My Cardboard Balcony

Yesterday, I held the last day of class for my second graders at the afterschool program I worked at. Some of them I really hated to say goodbye to. Many of them had this amazing spirit - this ability to be themselves, however strong or cute or sassy they were. While others have a lot to work on to become better individuals, lots of my students blew me away with their enthusiasm, confidence, bravery, and creativity. Two parents gave me flowers - one a single large pink rose, the other a bouquet of mums and red roses. They are in a vase now, on the coffee table, and they are so beautiful. I will treasure their appreciation and remember how much they helped me remember my Spanish (haha!). Most importantly, as one chapter ends, I will be an instructor at a summer program at a different school. There will be new students, new co-workers, and a whole new environment. Will it be insane? Will it be challenging? Will it be enlightening? Or will it be all of the above? All I know is tha...

Beethoven by Belinda Roddie From the depths of a dismal ocean He rose A deaf man could still compose A trumpet of gold could not suit A third ear better And with a kiss on the head The man was dead Buried in ashen soil and mist That clouded eyes And hearts upon the tide So was it that such men died And I Go sailing back To compose for him An ocean The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since August 5th, 2007.

We had a chat at the local grocery store after buying sandwiches at the deli. The wind kicked up outside and blew through the gaps in the automatic opening doors, but we didn't mind. We were strangely enchanted by the atmosphere of such a cluttered, crazed environment. Happy with bits and pieces of small talk over carts littered with random produce and the occasional stack of muffins.