I cannot fill
the empty chair
I sit in at the head of the table
a voice unheard
asks for another helping
cranberry, turkey, stuffing
cheerful voices conspire
not to notice
one place setting fewer
one package missing
empty spaces wrapped
in holiday cheer
It’s Christmas Eve, and I’ve been playing with a six year old and a three year old–oh, and their parents. They came to visit yesterday and will stay until after Christmas. It’s good to have youngsters around the house.
I got to see Jessie yesterday, and we got to talk a little about teaching just as we used to when she was teaching here at BSU. That was very satisfying. I’ve been jealous of her because she got to meet Loralee; I was even more jealous when she talked about her visit with Ms. LooneyTunes. Apparently Loralee’s fame is deserved. Jessie delivered a gift from Ms. Tunes. It is a T-shirt of such dimensions that I will use it as a replacement for the tent that blew away this past summer.
That may be a slight exaggeration.
Tomorrow will be spent out on the ice, fishing, until it’s time to clean up for the big dinner.
My best to any who happen upon this blog. Enjoy the holiday.
I looked up, reached for the next paper, and there wasn’t one. Checked e-mail; there weren’t any there either.
I think–gasp–I’m done.
Papers.
Some of them are really good and a privilege to read. Some of them are written for the sake of getting a grade. The difference is obvious.
All have to be attended to with full care.
I’ll bet anyone who has looked at this blog recently knows what I’m doing. The first letter is “p.”
Last night I went to the high school choir concert. Amazing. I haven’t gone to one in many years. They made sounds that would make college choirs respectful.
I have a cold starting. Must be because I have a role in a musical and practices will start soon.
It’s 9:30 on Sunday morning and I have three hours of paper grading behind me. I’m feeling very virtuous. I’m also amused that the descendant of many Lutheran ministers is feeling virtuous about working on Sunday. I should be in church, right?
Apparently the good people are, as I am the only person in the building so far. Mine is the only lighted office.
That last sentence sounds like a metaphorical boast.
Back to work.
Guess what I’m doing? Well, other than writing on this blog.
Anyone ever noticed I write about reading papers a lot? Saturday afternoon in mid December–I’ll be reading papers.
By the way, last night’s performance with the Symphonic Band was a kick. The audience was very receptive.
Back to work.
Today I took a break from reading papers to write a letter of recommendation for a really outstanding student. Then I read papers. When that got me to the point of lonely weariness I read e-mail. I got one from a former student now teaching in a small town near here that warmed me up and left me feeling far less lonely. She wrote about her work in the classroom and her affection for her students came through so strongly that I was thrilled and smiling. She said a nice thing about me, too, which definitely improved my day.
Then I read papers. At term end I try to get six hours in before lunch. I hit the papers while I’m fresh, but that also means I end up pretty numb by mid afternoon.
It’s approaching lunch time. I have a performance this evening and need to rehearse. I also have more papers to get done.
I’m still plugging through papers, though not so fiercely as has been so this previous week.
I’m disturbed by news from a former student/ former co-teacher/ current pride as master teacher that his father is dying of lung cancer and has reached the last weeks. This comes shortly after I sat with a friend through his last weeks. The sights and sounds I’m remembering are ugly. I don’t know the man, but I feel for him. I do know his son, and I feel for him, too. Hard times.
My tile laying buddy is turning gray with fatigue. The project goes on. I’ll be joining him a little later this afternoon. Wet saws are fun. When you don’t really have to use them. I don’t have to; I’ll do it to help.
I held a final for a methods class at my home yesterday. People enjoyed it so much that some of them stayed for eight hours. Tough final, huh?
Do you suppose I could make this entry any more random?
I’m emerging.
I preach to my prospective teachers that to live the teacher’s life you have to have a life. “Get a life” I tell them. Then I spend almost a week doing almost nothing but reading papers. By the time I quit each day my mind is so numb that I have nothing left. I go home and have nothing to say to Mom. I sit at the supper table and stare. Have no energy to socialize.
Everything I’ve been supposed to do at school I’ve had the strength to do, including two hour meetings and counselling miserable students whose lives have made their school performance less than they could otherwise have accomplished. And then I’m so out of balance that I have very little life outside school.
Two exceptions: a friend called me on Sunday morning (I was in the office, reading papers) and asked for help. I spent Sunday and Sunday night helping him lay ceramic tile for a local business. Pressure job. The business has to be closed until the remodelling is done. That means no money coming in. That means get done as soon as possible. So we worked a lot. We didn’t finish, but I couldn’t help on Monday because of my real job.
And papers. Monday and Tuesday I was really sore from carrying and cutting tile. That’s a lot like real work.
The other exception has to do with performing. My voice teacher asked me meet someone at his office and that turned into an audition and I got the part. I have a small role coming up in a community theatre performance of Kiss Me Kate. That startles me; I have done nothing like this in my life. The woman he wanted me to meet is the director of the play. He had me sight sing the song he had in mind from the play and she was apparently startled by that. She asked, twice, in disbelief, “You’ve never been in a musical before?”
Well, no, I haven’t. I’m going to, though.
I told my teacher “Fulton, when you asked me to come to your office I didn’t know it was for an audition.” He answered, “Huh huh huh huh ha.” He was bouncing at his seat on the piano bench. He was very pleased with himself.
The same day another music prof asked me to do a performance with the symphonic band. That’s day after tomorrow.
Well, readers, this is what has happened during my absence from CrustyProfessor. The paper load isn’t finished, but it is lessening, and I expect to have more energy for living again.
