A Pair of Ragged Claws

 Well. I cannot, should not, be blogging right now—haven’t time, when I’m expected to be weltering in unit plans, diagnostic and summative assessments, syllabi, and lesson plans— and oh, I am— but life is overflowing with a pursuit of perfection and I simply have to effervesce somewhere.  

Sunday I had a few TFAers over for brunch. Is brunch not the most delicious of words and meals and perfect for friendly confidences or silly rigmarole? They were a crew of interesting people with fascinating stories, but more importantly, a deliciously laid-back, common-sensical, yet still delighted attitude towards life. It was a pleasant morning, filled with the smell of fresh rolls and blueberries, and I felt, in Anne-terms, as though “I’d put down a tiny soul-root” in Charlotte TFA. Of course, I don’t yet have table and chairs, but I draped a tablecloth over the box from my new sofa, turning it into a low table, and we sat around it comfortably on the carpet. Luckily, one of the guys is Turkish-American and thought it quite elegant, so I may never buy furniture now, just invest in some cushions and call it oriental. 

The past few weeks have been an exercise in recovering my personhood. Institute in Tulsa dealt quite a blow to my conception of my self, and since then I’ve been regrouping, paying attention to every tiny action and mood and monitoring my living as I try to direct it into fresher, more positive waters. This morning I got to use some of the Mesillat Yesharim I’ve been learning when a clerk at Home Depot offered me a faucet adapter for free. Perhaps I reminded him of a granddaughter, or he just found my grateful request for help enlivening, but I remembered in time that only a store owner can offer free gifts, and headed for the cashier with a rueful sense of integrity. Now I can’t fit the new adapter into the tubing—I haven’t the upper body strength necessary. No good deed goes unpunished.

I sent my revised “Vision and Goals” to my MTLD today with the Prufrockian email subject “A hundred Visions and Revisions” and a bit of doubt about my complete lack of knowledge in so many areas. She volleyed deliciously, reminding me that:

 

And indeed there will be time 
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, 
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 
There will be time, there will be time 
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; 
There will be time to murder and create, 
And time for all the works and days of hands 
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 
Time for you and time for me, 
And time yet for a hundred indecisions 
And for a hundred visions and revisions 
Before the taking of a toast and tea. 

Are you not drooling in jealousy that I have such an awesome advisor?

Now I write, and run, and dare, and shall wear white flannel trousers and walk upon the beach, and hear the mermaids singing, each to each.

They sing to me.