Acceptance, Bare, Books, Captain Obvious, Cleanliness, Control, Education, Empty, Food, Growth, Husband, Judge & Jury, Life changes, Magnifying, Mess, Moving On, Nothing, Organized, Pinkdom, Play nice, Respect, Room 406, Scrutiny, Shattered, Teaching, Type A

Type A with a side of B

I visited one of my local haunts yesterday.    It was locked up, but a friend was already inside.  He let us in and wandered around with us.  We talked about the past, the present and naturally, the future.  He expressed a genuine concern regarding my health and was quick to ask if I would be roaming around on a more regular basis.  Sadly, I shook my head and confided the purpose of stopping by.  I wanted to get my personal effects and bring it all home.

I could read his face.  He was disappointed.  He and I had been “regulars” there.  There was always something to do or organize.  This is where I profess my type A personality…  We got my room (406 to be specific) and the lump in my throat began to alert my tear ducts “It’s time.”  The custodians had packed up a lot of my things already; so at first glance it seemed bare.  It was obvious that I hadn’t been there in awhile.

I wouldn’t leave a room like that, ever.  There were empty food containers on desks, a forgotten denim jacket on the back of a chair and empty boxes strewn about.  I made my way to the front book shelves, picking up a box and some of the papers which were left on the floor and turned around.  My whole world, the one where I put in thousands of hours grading, cleaning or organizing was gone.  Poof!

My first instinct was to get started on cleaning up and putting things where they belonged (my judgement).  The Type A in me was making it’s way to the surface.  I can’t focus when the environment is not orderly.  My husband and friend stopped me and reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to be “doing” anything laborious-per my doctors.  I was just supposed to point to what was mine and they would pack it up, transport it to their vehicles and then get it home.  So I did.  They did.  We tried to keep the mood light.  They joked about my “Shakespeare Action Figure.”  I had another one for Poe.  According to the custodian, I have a lot of “dolls” and glitter and pink.

My room was once my place of respite.  The building belonged to me and Michael- if you follow the “possession is 9/10 of the law.”  for 14 years. 

Packing up 14 years of my life is not supposed to look like it did yesterday, it’s supposed to have a nice and clean entrance and exit.  

My trek yesterday was just so sad.  My heart was breaking.  I loved it all once.  The smells, sights, sounds, of the hallway were comforting.  There was nostalgia for each whimsical item in my classroom or at least a story.  I had two homes… one for 90% of my existence and the other home clean, organized and full of heirlooms, nostalgia/stories.  It’s the way I am. Period.

The doctors told me that stress is a huge factor and gets my Adrenal Fatigue all out of control.  They want me to learn how to genuinely relax and loosen up the reins on life.  Ha!

I’m supposed to drop the Type A gig and work on being a B.  Remaining Type A could & has proven to make for a very difficult existence… However,  is being Type B a liscense for being unkempt?  Do B’s care about providing a space for everyone to feel safe (especially in room 406)?  Do B’s notice the little things?  Do they react or just turn away when a rule is broken?  Are they hippies?

My garage now harbors my recently liberated personal effects from room 406.  My husband expects to have his garage back before the first snow of the season.  

I understand where he is coming from, he  doesn’t deserve to have to step over boxes and pick up things that have been strewn about.  Sound familiar?  

Right now I’m processing it all and deciding what should go where.  My Type A will get it all taken care of.  It is just me.  Period.


Good Clean Fun


How many people can say that they had “good, clean fun” in Detroit for a night? Face it, Detroit has a bad reputation.

My husband and I were able to attend a Cirque du Soleil performance tonight at a rather large venue. The show was called “Crystal”. The advertising has been particularly absent of a storyline and in following that respect; I won’t ruin it for you.

But here’s how it went…

Just kidding.

We spent five hours traveling south to see it. Right now we’re in the hotel room. We’re getting too… (old or something) to drive down, see a show and then whip around to drive home in the same night. Especially when it’s this far from home.

So it’s 3:50 am and true to form I’m wide awake remembering the show. Those artists were incredible! They had me ooooohhhing, aaaahhhhhhing and ddduuuuuuudddddeee-ing. Their show used an ice rink as its base. That was already impressive (*hint, rationale for getting the tickets).

They danced, swung from dropped swings, stepped all over each other to perform crazy cool stunts and flew! Now I know where Pink got some of her stage/ air tactics. This show of stunts was definitely not for the faint of heart!

However, it was for the family. It was beautiful, sparkly, one-of-a-kind enjoyment. The tricks, dancing and sheer strength that the individual performers have is remarkable!

Plus, the Zambony came out at intermission. (C’mon you know that you still want to drive the Zambony, or your inner child does. Mine does).

All in all, I am most happy to say that we had good, clean fun tonight. We got along great. My pants only got a little bit caught in the escalator, and our hotel room is lovely.

I can hear the rain outside and it’s pulling me back to my sleep rhythm. So I will sign off for now.


🌞 🌞

🌞 Merci! 🌞

🌞 🌞



What do you call…

Do you ever wake up and wonder whatever happened to so-and-so? I mean, they used to be such a huge chunk of your life! How could they slip away unnoticed?

I’ve had people come into my life and stay for long periods and people who have made a difference in my life in five minutes and then be gone.

How does that work exactly? What’s the name of that algorithm?

For the most part I love people. I don’t care how you look, just how you treat others, ya know? I know that there are creepy people who don’t have my best of heart at interest. They just have a mission and every once in a blue moon or so, I happen to be in their way. No biggie, I can move.

My real question is what happens to the people who touched your soul, held your heart, made you laugh from your core and then slipped away?

I asked a Psychologist about it and the gist of the answer was that we’re supposed to go through those experiences. And yes, sometimes it hurts when they leave (willingly), and sometimes we don’t even notice when they’ve gone. I can think of a few who have been so intertwined with me that they were able to figuratively move my soul.

The movie Somewhere in Time With Christopher Reeves and Jane Seymour really got me thinking!

If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean. If you don’t know what I mean, re-watch it. If you haven’t seen it, remove the rock you live under and then rent it.

Albeit the point that I am trying to make is that the very essence of love must be part of the definition of my preponderance today.

Make sense? I don’t mean sex or physical love (only). I mean, the real stuff. The stuff that Angels float around on. Prayers, maybe? Seedlings during allergy season? Blessings in disguise as humans?

That’s what I want to know. Whatever that is. In the meantime I am going to go and snuggle up on my husband and fur babies, while they’re here.

Amen 🙏🏻


AFTER THE CLASSROOM by Brande Ellsworth

Teachers never stop 🛑

They start the career.

And retire from a lifestyle ⌛️

They may pack up their classroom. 📦

But books and gifts aren’t all that she’s got. 🕯

She has a hurricane of memories

Held up in her hair

By a pointed pencil. ✏️

Her pockets are full

Of dropped scraps and

Thoughtful delights. 🍬

She’s been independent.

She’s been part of a team.

She’s been tied up with commitment.

She’s been adrift and free.

She’s found comfort and community

She’s found politics and begged for understanding 🎭

She’s been brave

She’s been scared

She’s held back tears when a student shed theirs.

When she leaves the system

She simply can’t believe


She won’t have to wait to pee

She won’t have a last minute meeting

Or have a brand new responsibility.


She’ll be free.

She’ll shop in the same stores

You still won’t recognize her.

Simply because you never did.

She’ll be at your graduation 🎓

In the back as a guest.

When before she was front and center,

One of the very best.


Teachers never stop caring,


and making certain

that her students

move along

safe and strong.

But what she will never

fully realize

is that

her wisdom and her impact

will forever


on. 🎗


Thank A Teacher

I see this small sentence on bumper stickers, posters, magnets and all other sorts of things. The irony is that those who use them are 90% teachers! It’s just not right.

The famous athletes and celebrities and normal everyday folks are the one’s I would love to see sporting them. (My opinion).

Next I have to ask myself, where do the retired teachers go? Do they die right away? Do they hide out in their homes? I never see them. Did I ever really see them outside of the classroom during their tenure?

Given the amount of snacks and things they would keep in their desks I would think that they would go to the store somewhere, sometime.

As a retired teacher I was in search of a poem or some sort of writing that encompasses their retired lives sassy or sappy I didn’t care. I just wanted to find that one idea or word choice which encompassed going from Teaching and then sliding into oblivion (or textbook doodles).

I asked my friends for one word answers to “Give me one word that describes being a retired teacher.”

The responses varied from “freedom”, “free”, “adrift”, “anything I want”. There are more but you catch my drift.

There you have it folks! Teachers felt spoken for, tied down, imprisoned, and bathroom break deprived. I also saw this:

Go figure!


Never Have I Ever

Right off the bat, let me be honest with you. I “never have I ever” had a brand new car. As mentioned in my previous post, we are a “hand-me-down family”, especially when it comes to vehicles.

I was raised on Mustangs from the 1960’s, to be more precise. (Gasp! Awwwww! OMG!). I know, right? The favorite car of Ford was my Driver’s Ed. “try it” car. I have to chalk up this craziness to a momentary lack of forward thinking on the part of my parents. (Sorry)

I was 15 driving a gorgeous light blue, 1966, leaded fuel, am radio, Ford Mustang in 1987. That pony taught me way more than my Driver’s Ed. Book or Teacher ever could imagine.

1. Standard Brakes, Windows, Steering meant pure muscle not power.

2. Railroad Ties are as big and unforgiving as they look. They can and will damage your oil pan.

3. Checking the oil and radiator fluids is as important as putting in the correct fuel. (Sorry dad).

4. There is no wiggle room with the gas needle. If it’s on E you are out of luck and best be wearing comfortable shoes. A walk to the nearest pay phone or gas station is in your immediate future.

5. The Car gets the looks, never the driver. Get over yourself, that car is hot! Not you.

6. Lawn Jockeys are not real humans getting ready to run out into traffic for a big, invisible, beach ball. You need not swerve into on-coming traffic to avoid hitting him after dark, in the Valley of the Sun. This not only scares the shit out of your passenger (mom); it will also alert police in the area to your existence. Neither of which are funny nor productive.

7. Your father will count the miles you put on his car. He knows how far everything is and enjoys doing the math while you squirm because you went to Circle K for a grape Slush Puppy after school, drank it while driving, in his car which has white leather interior. Eeeek! ( I still get goosebumps over that screw up).

8. A Standard “H” is a transmission reference, not a nod your head in agreement, when your pony is an Automatic.

9. Finding an ideal radio station on an am radio is just not in the stars.

10. I love that car!

Since those days, I have had the pleasure of owning a Ford Fairmont (light blue), Mustang (’79, ’86, & ’89) and a Taurus, Infiniti QX4, Explorer (’93, ’05), Escape (’98, ’16) and my signature car Mazda Miata.

I am writing about this for two reasons. First, I started yesterday’s blog with what I have learned from my family. Second, I bought my first (gently used) car from a dealership yesterday! I did it!!!!! 🐾Woo Paw!🐾


May 6, 2019. Two Things My Family Has Taught Me…

Money matters and things do not.

It isn’t that one’s wallet is always fatter.

Nor possessing necessities needed to be bought

We simply level our priorities based on the BBB, Consumer Reports and reliable sources.

This doesn’t keep us from judging

How much one might have spent

Alas if you look you will see those elbows nudging

Along with a lengthy lament.

I feel like we all want to be minimalists

But fail miserably

When in Cost Co., Coach, REI and mailing lists.

Unsubscribe, do not go, tell yourself it’s not necessary

But vehicles are an interesting exception

They get handed down or around.

Only those with fuel injection

Are in our family found.