I spent a nearly perfect day on Saturday. My son M and I went to a baseball tournament. We packed plenty of food and drink in a cooler, took our lawn chairs and enjoyed the day. First we had to move some things into the school building. That was interesting: my room was not available due to summer cleaning so I put my stuff somewhere else.

Anyway, after doing that, we settled in the sun to watch a game. Yes, I sat in the sun so I would get a little color. That color this morning, of course, is bright red. After about 1 ½ hours I moved into the shade. I work at two schools. I watched those schools play each other, then I watched as each school played a different team.

I got to spend the day outside, in the sunshine and the breeze. I didn’t read as much as I would have liked, because my son hates while I read at a ball game. Hey, while they are warming up, why not? Anyway, it was a wonderful day.

I couldn’t help wondering if Master would enjoy such a day, or if it would be just too boring for him. So I asked him, what was his idea of a perfect day? Here is his response:

lazing in a hammock in the shade with a cool breeze, you nearby, soft rock on the CD player just enjoying the moment, with nowhere to go, nothing to do. We could have a light summer salad with BBQ ribs for lunch. We could watch a movie at night, you snuggling close. You snuggling on my shoulder sleeping the sleep of coolness with angels and you my lil devil.

Damn, is he good or what?!? I wish I had a hammock, but it’s not in the budget right now. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to lie together in the hammock all afternoon? But, I live in a small town, and people would talk. *sigh* I would also love to change the music to country. But, damn, the man has the right idea, doesn’t he?

I also love that he didn’t once mention sex. Don’t misunderstand. I like sex. I’m very sexual. But that is not at the core of our relationship.

The core is U/us.

I think it’s a sign of getting older when you lose things you don’t normally lose, or when you forget things you didn’t used to forget. Recently, I was reminded that I was getting older. I lost my glasses.

First, let me say that it is unusual for me to lose my glasses for any length of time. I usually put them in a particular spot (really, I do). If they are not there, there are a couple other possibilities. But recently I lost them. I went 4 days without finding them! If I hadn’t been cleaning and rearranging for Master’s visit, I might still be looking!

Last Thursday I worked at my second job. I KNOW I took them to the job. Now, Master had called and left a message that I was to call him back. That usually means something serious, and with his impending trip, I didn’t know what to think, so I was understandably worried and flustered. These were the conditions under which I set my glasses down that evening. In the morning, I went to pick them up. But they weren’t where I expected them to be.

Normally I up them on a computer desk that we have. I put them in a specific slot. They weren’t there. I tried moving a few things around here and there. No luck. I looked in a few other places. Nothing. Okay, so what does Mom say when you can’t find something? Where was the last place you had it? Backtrack.

I knew I had them at work. Did I bring them home? I thought so, but I didn’t specifically remember if I did or not. I called. Nope, they didn’t see them. Okay. So, I checked my car. Might I have left them there for some reason? If I did, I didn’t find them. I checked near the computer. Is it possible I set them down on a different table? Could they have fallen on the floor? After all, I am a mother myself now. I am supposed to be able to find everything, right? Well, nothing I was doing was working. It was time to bring out the big guns. When all else fails, CLEAN.

Actually, cleaning was on the agenda anyway, since Master is visiting in 2 days. (Two days? Two days! Is it really only two days away!?!?!?) I was cleaning off desks and rearranging things, putting the computer on the actual computer desk. And, buried under my son’s wallet were my glasses. He later said that he had found them under a shelf on the computer desk and moved them closer to the top where I usually put them.

So, am I getting older and senile? Am I losing it? I don’t know. I guess I should just be thankful that I don’t have to buy a new pair of glasses. Holding things at arms length to read them was getting a bit old.

Is it June yet? When things get tough, that’s my mantra. When I’m working in the school and the kids are being a pain in the ass, I think to myself, is it June yet? When I have piles of paperwork to complete and virtually no time to do it, I think I June. When I drag myself out of bed yet again rather than sleep in, I dream about that glorious month. I dream of a time when I don’t have to work with uncooperative children, when I don’t have more than I can possible get done, when I can actually rest.

In the winter when I am shoveling a foot of snow, I think to myself, is it June yet? When I am warming up the car early, I think of June. When I am bundling up for another -20 degree morning, I long for that most beautiful of months. June is full of sunshine and gentle breezes.

June, for me, represents hope for a better, easier time. Theoretically at least it is a time of relaxation and good weather. Yes, sometimes I’m busy in June, and the weather isn’t always perfect. But it’s the image that I cling to. June is my hope.

Hey, starting today, it’s JUNE!!!

Sounds like a strange thing, doesn’t it? But in the mornings sometimes, I am almost afraid to eat. Why? Once I start eating, I don’t want to stop.

For example, this morning when I ate, I had a half a sandwich with corned beef and an orange, along with some water. Not a great big breakfast, but enough to satisfy. But now I want more. I could sit and eat and eat all day. It seems once I open that gate, it doesn’t close again.

Sometimes, if I get busy, the feeling goes away. But when I have time to think about it, I want to eat. Sometimes I’m actually hungry. Sometimes not. I just want to eat. Sometimes I am trying to avoid something, like working on a post or cleaning the house. Oh, wait, I need to eat first. Or sometimes I just want to eat. This is a feeling that I deal with daily.

I have dealt with it, and I’m afraid I will have to do so every da

Social promotion is popular now, and I believe has been for several years. It works like this: if a kid does not do well enough in school, does not learn what he is supposed to learn, he is passed on anyway. Why does this happen? From what I’ve seen the biggest concern is the parents. If a parent complains enough, the kid won’t be held back. From there it’s a short step to schools not even trying to retain a student for fear of parents’ reactions. The result: kids are automatically shuffled from one grade to another.

I’m sure it is very difficult for a child to be held back, probably even more so now that it never happens to anyone else. But are we really helping kids by passing them along? Often kids learn that they don’t really have to do anything or learn anything. Sure, the teachers yell at them a bit, but what really happens? They just keep flowing downstream like their peers.

Until, BAM, they hit high school. In high school if you fail, it means something. It means you won’t get credit for the course. It means that after 4 years you may not have enough credits to graduate. If the class is a required class, you will have to take it over until you pass. I’ve seen seniors taking sophomore English for the third time, trying to pass. Some do, some don’t.

But we changed the rules on these kids. You see, you only had to take 7th grade English once, and it didn’t matter how you did on it. The next year you took 8th grade English, which didn’t matter, either. Now, all of a sudden, these classes matter! If you don’t pass, there are consequences. We have done our kids a disservice by eliminating the consequences in the lower grades.

When you are in high school, social promotion disappears. You get what you earn. It seems to me that kids need to learn earlier that they must earn promotion. That, perhaps, is the most vital lesson that the kids aren’t learning.