Today is April. Yesterday was April too. (Or April 2, if you prefer. Today is April 3 – but I digress.)
Despite the rainy atmosphere outside, I’m feeling optimistic – perky, almost. I’m alone in my momma’s kitchen, I’ve had a cuppa tea, got some good tunes on (shoutout to SaltWater Hank), and feeling more rested and cheerful than many days this past year. Obtaining a degree in elementary teaching has been a defining fact in my life this last season of time. It’s been hard to feel alive in my education journey thus far, which is a shame. Thankfully, that’s not the point of this post.
The purpose is, in fact, quite opposite. I don’t want to talk about the ed program. I want to tell about everything else! While chasing this degree, I’ve neglected to communicate well with the outside world. I miss it. I miss you, dear people. So over the next few weeks, I’d like to fill in a few of the cracks in the canyon of non-communication that I’ve fallen in this past season.
Thank you, friends, for remembering me. For paying attention, even when I have not given much back to you. But I’d like to share life better again – and while that may not mean a lot of face-to-face conversations, in person visits, etc., I do know one way to share – and that’s here.
My blogging focus will be scattered (oxymoron alert!) in the upcoming weeks – the structure being set in place by an alphabetical listing of 20 moments or perspectives that took place this year. From April to April – I’ll look over my shoulder to point out some places I’ve been.
Want to follow along with this ridiculous tour guide? To start this the chronicles – I’ll let you peek at last April
(One day I’ll catch up to this April and fill you in on the current adventures – but for now, one step at a time.)
Status: Bleary-eyed awakening – there’s a world out there? Just finished a semester of uni and kind of in shock I survived.
Self-Prescribed Recovery Method #1: Spend time in my “Safe Place”. (That’s education-talk for my Auntie’s house. Free food and baby snuggles abound.)
I was done with philosophical conversations about education, classrooms, professionalism, even children. I was pretty numb to the real world and I knew it. Months spent in a classroom with no windows is not good for me! It was time to thaw out with hands-on activities and gentle conversations about anything but what I’d been studying that winter. I was happy to sit with real kids doing real things in their own way – developing as unique individuals who may or may not line up with textbook cases and theories.
Can we just decorate some eggs, and drink milk together? Have the first spring camp fire and weiner roast? Yes please. Yes thank you. I can do Easter eggs, hot dogs and wipe up spilled milk. Just don’t ask me to philosophize on the matter. I was wiped and drained.
Recovery Method #2: Spend time with good friends who forgive your garble and are happy to drag along or be dragged on random excursions.
Devyn, Sarah, and Kendra, this means you. Good friends do life together – whether it was pig pee, haircuts, new food, naps on couches, rolling down hills with screaming children, or 6am meet ups to drive circles in a car, these three individuals might never know how I appreciate their willingness to join me on a whim and meet me in daily life to share time together. These are friends that filled the nooks and crannies of my time in April as I transitioned from school to the next spring chapter – AlbertaLand.
Recovery Method 3: Move far, far away.
Okay, so I’m kind of kidding about far far away. But a change of scenery was what I was looking for. It sounds terrible, but there was no way I wanted to TOC (be a substitute teacher) for May and June. I like variety too much, and needed some fresh air away from PG. So in April, I headed for Alberta.
For a few months last spring I went to work for a cousin of mine, in rural Southern Alberta. I still think I got the best end of the deal – helping with kids and yardwork and whatever needed to be done, all while listening to podcasts and being shadowed by a 5 year old. Even the drive itself was therapy – 13 hours with myself, the mountains, and a big bag of carrot sticks.
And if that doesn’t sound like a good time, what does?