Study Hall Tonight

Frank exclaims, "what happened!?" as the printer spews forth many more pages than he anticipated.  Later, I approach him to lower his voice, and he gives me a self-deprecating smile, plaintively confessing, "I am going away." Suddenly, I hear a soft, high voice singing. Little, happy Vy is contentedly  reading some very thick classic while listening to an opera, which she apparently knows by heart. Now how am I gonna shut that down?

I am suddenly overcome with one of those flooded moments: these people are precious. I look over at Andy, the very big, very loud guy, who is right now hunched over his math problems, not making a sound.

I look over to see a girl furtively toss a social studies book to two others at the table next to her. It falls just short and crashes in a splayed mess on the floor. The three girls look up wide-eyed. I turn and bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Meanwhile, Frank bounces over to the three-hole punch at the circulation desk. In one swift motion, his papers and the three-hole punch are on the floor. And that is it. I burst out laughing, exactly in the manner that I go about shushing all evening, and though I try, I can't quite contain it; hiding my face in the 500s section, I wipe away tears. Some days, keeping people quiet is an impossible joke.

General Education: Bird Watching

From my vantage point in the dorm office, I can see only a sliver of the front porch. Entirely filling that sliver is a square, brick column supporting the porch roof. This column also supports a large bird's nest. So far this spring, two bird families have made their homes there, first building up the tenement, then laying eggs, and incubating them.

I find myself often observing these creatures who seem to subsist so much simpler than I. Most recently was the robin family. What a cure to watch mama bird fly off, leaving the kids in silence, to snuggle and shove each other until she returned, bringing back worms and berries in her expert beak. Her squeaky, squirmy babies arched their necks and got excited. She had to make many trips to scrounge food for her hungry troop. And never did I hear her complain. Every time she returned to the nest, I wanted to applaud, so cheerfully did she extend her prizes for her young to devour. They might have applauded, too, if they were older and wiser and had hands.

Good job, mother robin! Yesterday the birdies flew off: graduation! 

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I wish I could take a class whose only objectives were the following:

1. careful and reverent observation

2. honest prayer

3. quiet introspection
4. further observation

I believe bird watching (executed slowly and alone) should be a required part of a liberal arts education. Because in order for it to be effective for people like me (whoever we are), it must be forced. My view must be limited to only a sliver of the porch where the bird families are perfectly framed and perfectly close enough for observation.

For other ideas for a liberal arts education, John Updike's "Hoeing" comes to mind. Perhaps all these ideas could be rolled into one required class that I am supremely unqualified to teach. For a few days, we watch birds. Another few days, we hoe a field. Another day, we make mud puddles and play in them. Another day, we learn to beat water as if it were a drum. Another day, we bake pies. It would be called "Explorations in Bio-Purpose."

Book Report

I looked in the mirror.

I looked at my paper.

And back in the mirror,

and down at my shoes.

I remembered my mommy

and all that she'd told me.

And my teacher, Miss Holly,

the way that she scolds me:

Eye contact. Posture. My

FINAL GRADE!

I wish I had read about

the British Light Brigade...

Here goes, Miss Holly, I plod to the front:

"I chose a book about Billy the Kid,

How he robbed the stage coaches,

And if I were him--

I'd overtake the whole West, those lawless red roaches! I'd overtake saloons and gun-sling til I got all the gold and the frills from the drinkers and girls. Then I'd sit at the piano and sing about the sea til the sun began setting, my cue to leave. And I'd hop on six horses and ride away easy, on into the sunset, my kingdom at peace."

-Miss McKalips

Dear Space-Time Continuum

Not that the space-time continuum has paid much attention to this plea in the past, but here goes another rendition:

Dear Space-Time Continuum,

Please, won't you slow down? When I looked at my Facebook profile, I saw my last status update, a book I had just finished. I thought, "man, that was just late last night." NO. It was Monday. Today is Wednesday. I'm dropping days! And suddenly I'm putting on chapstick and wondering, as I walk in cold rain, when it became so gray and wintry and where I put my warm socks. Waking and sleeping are blurs. I slept at my school placement during our planning period. I opened my book and slept like a baby.

I'm not blaming you, Space-Time Continuum. I'm begging you, would you find it somewhere in your stagnant, existential "heart" to either slow down time, or clone me (like in that movie, Multiplicity) so that I have a chance at writing and reading and thinking and maybe, just maybe... sleeping?

Forever Yours (if not by choice, by divine decree),

Carolyn

Fire!

Me: There was a fire in the library today! [Insert more detailed story.]

Joella: There was a vole in the office today. [Insert less detailed story.] It was about the size of a mouse.

Me: That was about the size of the fire.

Joella: Maybe. But a fire grows much faster than a vole.

Spring Break Events: elongated laundry-list style

• Mom, Chelsea, my grandma, and I went to dinner to celebrate my grandpa's 77th birthday Friday night.
• Then I drove Mom and Chelsea home through a blinding rainstorm.
• Saturday and Sunday I visited with Stephen, Megan and Aida who came for the weekend! They are such a treat. It's true.
• I then crashed an ultimate frisbee game with people very much not my age. I miss playing regularly.
• And Kelly and Sladana and I had coffee and lovely conversation Sunday night.
• Mom and I returned to Lancaster Monday through the snowstorm.
• Joella, Rachel, Jess and I left Tuesday morning for North Carolina Beach State Park.
• Every night we froze and every day we slowly enjoyed our leisure. Notably, cypress trees are very beautiful, and Venus Fly Traps are not in season in early March. An RV camper walked by our campsite one morning and complimented our "heartiness" to sleep in a tent in such weather. Tuesday night was 22 degrees and our tent was of the summery, meshy version. Oh, Lord, thank you for the bathhouse! Rachel and I slept there that night.
• Today as I walked in the beautiful, 72 degree Pennsylvania weather, I met a lady named Valerie who was sitting and enjoying the weather, too. We talked for over an hour. She has lived an incredible life.
• Now, the rest of Spring break, I hope, will consist of finishing a paper, starting another, finishing a book, studying for Political Theory and working.