William and Dorothy were Brother and Sister, so it's like that

Dear *******,

You will always be the William to my Dorothy Wordsworth. I guess some people are simply meant to write together. I will be the prose. You can make sense of the metrics. I will look at the mist and give you a detailed description of the fauna; and you can become famous after making nature accessible and beautiful for those who will still bother to pick up books.

As a Teacher...

Ha! I am not used to the title, and I might as well be honest about it. It is mighty fun to be in the classroom, though, finally learning the details that escaped me as a student teacher. I am struggling now with myriad questions, the theme of which is how I am perceived by my students.

• How much of my life is appropriate to cast abroad? (Like this post, for instance... Do I need to de-personalize my writing? Am I even capable of such a thing?)
• Do all students notice when a teacher begins to repeat her wardrobe? (This has already begun, of course, since it's been over a week.)
• How much should I care about how I am perceived? (Not at all? I've seen that be really, really good, and I've seen that be sad and pathetic.)
• How do I "come off as strict" only in the beginning of the school year? Am I strict? (I sincerely hope so. I think that strictness provides structure for people to count on, and makes school a safer place. Even if my students don't like me, I hope they know they can trust me.)
• Do I talk too fast? (Usually. Why would the classroom be any different?)
• Do I know enough? (No. I don't even know what I don't know.)

As much as I struggle to find something useful to say as I stand up in front of a group of young people, I feel favor as I do so. I feel an energy come over me. So far, so good.

To the Owner of the Blue Oral-B Toothbrush

In their honor, I shall post a note that was forced to write last semester. It was mid-student teaching time. It was late at night. I stuck this to the mirror the next day.

To the Owner of the Blue Oral-B Toothbrush:

My sincerest apologies.

Last night, your toothbrush bore a great resemblance to my own, and was therefore dreadfully misapplied to my teeth.

No more than a moment elapsed before I discovered my error. But alas, germs are faster-moving than the most elastic mind (which I do not claim to be).

The fact having occurred so long before your arrival, and so close to my bedtime, I acted not at all on your behalf, to save you the contamination of the sullied toothbrush. That is, until this evening, when the events of last night came rushing back. I took the more welcome liberty of boiling your toothbrush first, then mine.

Since both are now clean, you may take your pick. And henceforth I, like you last night, will not be the wiser for your choice of toothbrush.

I beg your pardon, however, and never hope to do it again.

Earnestly,
C

Well, I knew this would happen. I miss my housemates here at the dorm.

End Year 23

I sometimes think about how strange it is that agriculture dictates our education system and therefore the rhythm that we use to plan our lives. This means that mid-August is naturally a time of chaotic rearrangement. Kids and young adults shuffle off to school, teachers return to their kitchens and coffee pots to start a new school year after summers which they must relegate to dreamworlds untold. I am, for the first time, in the latter category instead of the former.

But before all of that, comes my birthday. And my birthday this year was incredible...

Let's begin at 10:15 am, when I left LMH in Lachelle and Brian's car, listening exclusively to a very beautiful piece: "The Last Waltz," the perfect blend of beauty and sorrow and change, with other significance attached in other ways. I arrived at Jordan's house to meet Krystle, Shelby, Alyssa, and Jordan. We left for Longwood Gardens together and met Garrett just inside, so we made six.

I've been to Longwood before, but my impressions of this day were something different from ever before. The sun's whole face was laughing. My imagination took over! We marveled at a treehouse; I felt like an elf, finally home. We stood above the Italian water garden; I felt like I was attending a ball, dressed in satin and lace. We stood in the triple fountain, south of the DuPont house; I felt like a duckling, delighted! We ran around the meadow; I felt like the Von Trapp children, set free! We stood under the wrought-iron gazebo above the coy fish; I felt like a goddess on Olympus, everywhere I laid my eyes was mine.

For lunch, we left the gardens and made hamburgers at Garrett's house nearby. Fun. So fun. Summer is cutting tomatoes and watermelon and doing dishes at someone else's house with good friends. The sun went right on laughing. Back to the gardens for the other, more exquisite half. We were walking our legs off by this time.

It's worth mentioning that sometimes when you have a few people together who love the Lord, your fellowship grows. At one point, I counted our group of six and thought, "wait, aren't there seven of us?" It has to be the Holy Spirit who comes and makes seven.

We departed for Jordan's house where we met up with David, pizza, and a fire after sunset. Why not finish with ice cream and conversation? Why not, indeed.

Themes of Entertainment

How much can the entertainment you choose tell about your personality? I'm guessing... a lot.

I have been using Leah's Netflix for a few months now. It automatically makes suggestions based on an original viewing questionnaire. But after a while, it seems to suggest based solely on your viewing choices. Here are the categories that show up for Leah and me:

1. Romantic Dramas Featuring a Strong Female Lead

2. Witty Sci-Fi and Fantasy

3. Goofy TV Shows

4. Feel Good Screwball Comedies

5. Quirky TV Comedies

6. Sentimental Children and Family Movies

7. Classic Musicals

8. Foreign Action and Adventure

9. Cerebral TV Dramas

10. Independent Movies

11. Faith and Spirituality

Reflections on Moving

What am I reading right now? The Shepherd's Castle by George MacDonald; The LMH staff Handbook; the Gospel of John.

My mom came to pick me up from camp on Sunday morning. I finally knew how all the campers felt when their parents picked them up each Saturday morning. Relief mingled with a feeling of somehow not being finished. They would longingly look back, waving, cherishing a vague feeling that camp was still going on, even with no campers.

We moved things from camp to the dorm, then from 409 (my former residence) to the dorm. It was a long day which culminated in a dinner with Brian and Lachelle, who inhabit the downstairs advisors' apartment. All the same, I went to bed with a dissatisfied, empty feeling in my stomach.

I can tell that as I go through changes in location and responsibilities, I am getting better at accepting them. But you must understand that I used to be really, really bad at accepting change. I mean, bad. If someone turned a figurine to the side in my room, I could sense it. Save your OCD jokes. I'm not diagnosed. The point is, I'm improving. And I like change. I feel alive and awake and scared all at once.

Everywhere I look, there's something I could buy to add to my apartment. One of my goals in life is to live simply. Sometimes that means forgetting that there is an easier way if I only had a ________, and making do with what I already have. Besides, I like to be somewhat dependent upon people around me for things. What kind of relationship can you build with people if neither of you need each other for anything?

I don't know. I'm going outside.

Nearing

Camp is nearing the end.

Foley Stromboli night has just passed. Camp affirmations have just finished with a Tim Tam Slam Fest. God is good. He's been good this summer. More details later. That should be sufficient for now.