Pretending I'm Retired

Please don’t ask me what I remember about high school because my first thought is “not too much.” I do remember my senior English class with Mr. Goodwin. We still sat in desks back in 1988, lined up in rows facing his desk in the front of the chalkboard.  (Little did we know, we were socially distancing. So before our time!) One afternoon, we filed into class and took our seats, but Mr. Goodwin was nowhere to be found.  At first, we chatted noisily waiting for him to stroll in to the classroom. After a few minutes, when he still didn’t appear, some students pulled out books or notebooks to pass the time. Others fidgeted in their seats, feeling impatient. Where was our teacher?  And so, we waited. And waited. I’m not sure how long we waited. Thankfully, not as long as Vladimir and Estragon. Because when he finally arrived, it turned out that Mr. Goodwin's absence was a planned introduction to Samuel Beckett’s tragicomedy “Waiting for Godot.” VLADIMIR Well? What do we do? ESTRA

How are relationships like plants? This probably isn't the best comparison for me because I notoriously kill plants. Paul is the gardener in our family. But let's see where this goes.  Sometimes in school I use a creative problem solving approach called synectics to encourage my students to think about the relationships between two seemingly unrelated items. Synectics means "the joining together of different and apparently irrelevant elements."*  Maybe this technique was percolating in my subconscious as we read a  book  about the different adaptations of plants surviving in cold weather. Did you know arctic poppies have cup-shaped petals to catch sunshine?  Did you know cushion plants grow close together to protect each other from the cold? Did you know snowdrops are tough enough to push up through frozen soil? Hey, look at that! I love sunshine and try to catch it as often as possible. I like to snuggle when it's cold, and sometimes I have to do hard things. I j

I did the thing. I started a new blog.  The irony of the new blog title does not escape me—quite the opposite of being retired, I feel like I have two full time jobs right now: teaching and trying to market my book. I'm an unknown author with no marketing budget. Let's just say Ellen hasn't called yet.  I had an interview with a local paper and the reporter asked what my next plans were. This question stumped me.  I don’t know.  I'm about to turn 50. I've spent much of my lifetime so far making plans and reaching goals. I filled bullet journal after bullet journal with carefully drawn bucket lists and ideas. Masters Degree, check. Run a marathon, check. Write a book, check. Even vacations were activity-filled travel adventures. I've visited 49 states in my 49 years. I have a hard time relaxing; it makes me antsy.  So what's next?  Alaska, I hope.  But other than that, I'm not sure, and I'm trying to be okay with that. I'm trying to be patient