Backwards

The past six weeks at work have been busy.  Lots of changes.  I have been struggling with how to share about them because my feelings are very mixed and I am still sorting through all of it.

The bare bones is that we lost two staff members in January and February.  As a result, there has been some reassigning of responsibilities.  Part of that has included me.  I am back in the classroom - my old classroom even.  It is supposed to be temporary.  My whole department is shut down because we are short on staff and substitute teachers.  My team-mates are in classrooms as EAs when they are not being used as substitute teachers.  This is all supposed to be temporary.

Yeah, I am still reeling a bit too.  And I have had five days to get used to it.

Five months ago I stepping into a position where the learning curve was steep, which I loved.  I worked really hard to meet expectations that were never laid out in a job description.  I felt like I had just started to get a handle on the basics of the position.  I was looking forward to taking some really  positive steps forward in the second half of the year.  And now it is all kaput.  

On the bright side, classroom teaching is a bit like riding a bicycle... you don't forget the skills.  It almost feels like I never left.

From the Backseat

"Look, a deer!"

Since we are driving to school through the middle of the Reserve, it is unlikely.

"That is a dog."

"No, it has long legs and a long neck.  I know it isn't a giraffe because giraffes don't live here.  They live in Africa."

"Yes, they do live here."

"No they don't," in a tone that says, 'Ever silly you!'

"Yes they do... at African Lion Safari there were giraffes."

"I mean on their own."

"In the wild?"

"Yes."

"I mean in zoos."

"Oh."

And that is life in our backseat.

Tulips

We are in the third week of miserable indoor-recess cold.  There have been little hints of warmth, a sunny afternoon, here and there, but overall it has been -30ish since mid-January.  We are cabin-feverish.

The dark is just starting to lift.  I can feel the days get incrementally longer and I long for long sunny afternoons with the "Drip, drip" of snow melting off the roof.  I have that green colour that is completely unique to spring dancing around the edge of my consciousness, taunting me with its elusiveness.

It feels like spring is forever away.

I came home after work today to a beautiful plant on the dining room table (thanks to my Soul Sista, who visited with her spouse and Sprout on the weekend).  It has a bright, sunshine-yellow tulip peaking out from between the leaves where this morning there was just green.

Yellow speaks of hope.

Even though I know that real outdoor tulips are months away in reality, it lifted my spirits immeasurably.

Spring can't be too far away after all.