True Calling

Despite the fact that I don't actually have a teaching job (or any job for that matter) for this fall, I am still absolutely sure that being a teacher is my true calling. I know this not because whenever I see a child (my niece or nephew, a friend's child, or a strange child at the pool) I cannot help but add in "please" and "thank you" when appropriate or explain the whys and wherefores of how plants grow. I know this not because I periodically burst into song if something around me reminds me of a song I know. (I sang "Oh, when the rain comes down it cleans up the sky" all too often in July.) I know this not because when I walk into a bookstore I spend more time poring over the children's books than adult books. I know this not even because on my trip I noticed that within the first two minutes of meeting someone, I had uttered the statement "I am a teacher", when almost no one else ever mentioned their job (which caused me to wonder if it was me or if it was the profession that caused these declarations).

I do all of the these things (with alarming regularity), but these are not the reasons that I know I am a teacher through and through. No, I know that I am meant to be a teacher because, just like clockwork, and just like teachers all over, in the wee hours of August 1st, I had my first school dream. Ask any teacher you know about this phenomenon. It is quite startling. Somehow a teacher's subconscious, which has been so quietly resting and rejuvenating for the month of July, knows exactly when it is the month which will usher in the return to school, and it reacts, usually stressfully.

My school dream this year took the form of a faculty meeting. In it I was supposed to be singing a song, but I couldn't remember the words, so I just made them up as I went along. For many people, this would be a stress dream of unmentionable proportion, but for me it was pretty much normal. As I mentioned above, I sometimes break into song anyway, and at my school (former school??) it would not be at all unlikely for someone to sing during a faculty meeting. Many a time has a grade level team given a presentation in song.

So even though I may try my hand at any number of odd jobs this year, I am sure that teaching is what I should, and will soon, be doing.

Last batch of flicks

Here are the last movies, from Thailand and New Zealand.

This is from atop an elephant. Quiet and bumpy...


This is what I awoke to (at about 4 am) in a village in Thailand when I did my little trek. Egads.



It is kind of hard to hear the audio on this, because it was really windy atop the pass on the Milford Track.


Okay, so I didn't realize that I couldn't turn a video clip, so you'll have to cock your head. Sorry!


This is a little clip from the Milford Track, just to show how wonderfully peaceful and beautiful it was (despite the fact that I was in a group of 46 hikers).


A quick clip from the Milford Sound. Enjoy the prettiness (and the accent of the boat captain).


One last video, this one from my favorite place, Punakaiki. (Go way back to February to see the first half of this piece.)

More Movies

Here are some more video clips... This first batch is from Guatemala. I narrate the first four; the last one is walking in the back door of the cathedral in Antigua as one of the Lenten parades is starting up. (I heard this music way too often in my two weeks there.)









This next group of clips is from Kenya. The first is a local tribal dance, but I loved the fact that the kids (off stage, so to speak) were dancing right along.



This is the view from the train as it came into Nairobi.



A couple more will come later...

Movies

As I can't figure out a way to get the movie clips I took on my travels to project on anything larger than my little laptop screen, I thought I'd try putting them on my blog (assuming that the internet connection in this 150 year old farmhouse is slightly faster than it was wherever I was before... big assumption), and then I can show them to all the houseguests on my brother's slightly larger screen. And I guess you can look at them too if you wish.

The first five are from Australia. You'll hear me chatting on all of them except the last, which is of some poor kid with possibly the worst summer job.

The last two are from Costa Rica. I have loads more, which I'll put on when I'm in the mood...

Houseguests

The nice thing about having 16 adults, four children, and seven dogs in the house for a weekend is that it makes six adults, three kids, and five dogs seem like nothing.

Guns

When I was in cold and rainy England last October (weather very similar to the last three weeks in NH, alas), I remember having a conversation with someone about America or something. I can't remember any of the details of the conversation (who, where, how much I'd had to drink), but I remember that I had the impression that this person thought that all Americans were gun-totin'. I said that I didn't have a gun at home, nor did I know anyone who did. The person was visibly relieved to have that stereotype dispelled.

Well, I'm afraid I need to amend my statement. I certainly do not have a gun of any shape or size, nor do I intend to EVER have one. But, this morning I climbed into the truck of the my brother's construction sidekick (I was doing some dry walling for my brother), and noticed something sitting on the floor at my feet. "Is that a HOLSTER???" Yes, a holster for a handgun. I asked no further questions about it, but sat in disbelief for a few minutes. The question that mostly went flying through my head repeatedly was "Why, why, WHY?!"

Not necessarily how I thought I would be starting my day.

Rain, rain, go away

I had thought that I was being excessive, materialistic, and a bit crazy when I brought so many long shirts and trousers and wool socks to my summer beach haunt, but I am afraid that I was a bit prophetic in my packing. I have been here for two weeks, and I have seen the sun two days, I think. The other days I have been wearing as many clothes as I can, happy that I had purchased some jeans and winter trousers from Beans, which I thought wouldn't be worn until October. Wool socks are a must, and often I throw a scarf on as well. In fact, the other evening (when it was only cold and foggy, not actually raining) I was sitting outside and I noticed I could see my breath. It was June 30th.

The cold and rain is pretty abysmal, I have to say. Two weeks of being house-bound. Not fun in and of itself. Now know that we currently have FIVE dogs in the house (about 350 pounds worth of dog), and FOUR children aged four and under. Aside from the din, the mess, and the diapers, what really is rough is that means I can't use the words I want to use to describe how I feel about the weather.

It @#$^&*! $#*%@s, and that's all I have to say about that.