Sunrise, Snow Day: Seattle

Snow fell most of last evening and blanketed Seattle and cities around the Sound. Hardly enough for a snow day back East, but sure enough, with limited snow removal service, we have our fourth day off from school due to weather. 20K more troops in Iraq, huh big boy? What about that No Child Left Behind thing? You're not just leaving them in dust, with your poor budget plans, you're leaving them in the snow.

So we take snowflakes and make play days. Sledding with neighbor kids, walking the wintery world, and watching the flurry of feathers from chickadees on twigs in the back yard. I'm reading a great book right now called Winter World. It's a lovely companion to hot chocolate, a blanket, and the comfort of new snow.

Stay warm.

Full Moon in verse

I
I held up the filter paper
with an outstretched arm
to show them how to fold it.
Half the class disappeared behind
the brilliant orb
as I squinted,
and dreamed for tonight’s full moon
to separate out from the constant drip.

II
The whorls of my fingertips
warmed by a tea mug
this winter evening.
Steam rises,
mingles with the bare branches
out my kitchen window.
I’ve caught the full moon
on the end of this string,
bobbing in the dark brew.

Back in the Middle

Sometimes I forget what I do for a living. Yet when the alarm goes at 5:30 (and I realize it is not to go skiing), and I drive half sleepy to work, put the key in my door, the reality rushes at me like a heat wave, which does in fact occur when I open the door to my classroom. By 7:10 I'm trying to remember faces of students I haven't seen in almost three weeks, thanks to a power outage just before break. But by 8 o'clock, when most of you haven't even gotten your coffee, I'm remembering why I love this gig.

Students fall into routine and rigor. We reflect and review and roll on. A few students bring me rock candy and illustrated descriptions of a saturated solution while others wonder, "You mean you want us to bring you candy?" when they discover the sweet extra credit project on solubility has been extended.

It's hard work. And although there are frustrations with the bureaucracy and the politics of public education, I know I'm lucky to do what I do. I think my kids are lucky too.

Two New York Times articles show the challenges of being in the middle, and pushing through.
1. Stay in school, be healthy
2. Middle School Challenges

Busted

We busted out of the cloud layer to witness a wonderful winter view of Red Mountain, Guye Peak, and Chair Peak today from Commonwealth Basin, just beyond the Alpine Lakes Wilderness line near Snoqualmie Pass.

And on the decent, for our backcountry ski/stroll/social tour, I busted my cable binding. Bummer.

It is very powder. I'm sinking!

Christmas day tradition: ski
Forecast: 10 inches of new
Destination: Stevens Pass

Matt and dp and I headed out EARLY to Stevens. We waited in line for the big cheif chair (have I ever waited in line for first chairs?) and then waited at the top of that for double diamond to open to take us into the back side. Matty counted: we were the 10th chair. There are no friends on powder days, so we made a plan to meet up at lunch and keep in the loop. I can't believe I skied all the way till noon. Endless untracked powder and DEEP. Over the boot and, with the genuine tele genuflexion, thigh high. Not as light as we had thought, with an interesting density inversion, but still delicious, although exhausting.

I overheard a non-native-English speaking couple skiing beside me. She hollered to her friend," It is very powder. I'm sinking!"

The sucker hole dp noticed as we drove up, and parked right up front of the stairs, opened into a beautiful blue day. Sunshine and powder. What a glorious christmas present.

By lunch we were all dragging. Matt and I even layed down on the benches at the table. We lingered, and munched, and stretched. And made a plan for more. dp and I skied the backside again with a few laps in Tye Mill valley. By three we met up with Matt who invited us for a "family ski". Undecided and indifferent, we debated. Then, Matt threw in the towel: "Let's ski!" and we took a fabulous final run of the day.

Merry indeed!

The light of darkness

I push off from the classroom shore
as windows tell of wind and tree limbs wave
shadows on brick walls.

The way is worse
than forecasted.
To breathe means aspirating raindrops
that fall so furiously I've got five squelchy
toes in fewer minutes.

I throw a wake through intersections,
eddy out in the pools below stop signs,
water standing rim deep.

I hear sirens, and then smell fire.
Smoke's a strange odor in a deluge;
what's not so wet it can still burn?
The next six blocks are blacked-out.
Christmas lights lost their cheer,
street lamps lonely in the inky tunnel
of a street.

Approaching home, I squeeze a river
from my soft-palmed gloves
as I brake to slow this flow.

Steven's Pass Season's Pass

Bonus.
Being handed my season's pass from the group sales coordinator on Saturday morning when the SkiAttle chaperones meet for a program walk through.

The kids are going to love it up here. I do.

Sean and I had a great day, dodging the fog (and thus avoiding the back side), and finding the joys of freshies on the edges of the earlier race course. My skis work well, the new boots are really great, and my shoulder handled the day well. Again, my legs are tired. Must have been Thursday's work out in the pool, followed by serious plymetrics.

We brushed 3 inches off the car at about 3 pm and headed back to town. Sean and I discussed education, philosophy, and dreams of smaller schools. He's a great teacher. He's going to make a great dad... his wife, Aliza, also a chaperone last year, is due mid January.