One of the reasons I decided to be a teacher was that I’d grown accustomed to the time frame. The year began in late August or early September and ended in May or June. It was a rhythm that suited me and even now, five years retired from the classroom, my inner clock beats to the school calendar.
Of course, there are mini-melodies within the greater song. Soccer – indoor and out. Girl Guides. Periodic break weeks and stat holidays. Yoga classes running bi-weekly in the hamlet or once a week in town. All coalesce into a larger framework that guides me from fall to early summer, and all are swiftly coming to a finale this week.
So with the bonus months looming – July and August simply fall outside organized time – I am feeling a bit let down and off-kilter.
Not that I miss 7AM wake up calls or thrice weekly jaunts to the pitch or manic Monday’s of juggling teaching and Girl Guides. Even teaching yoga has its burn out point come spring and longer lighter days. However, routine is good. Dependable. Requiring more energy than thought. Free time, interestingly, needs more management.
Tomorrow is the last day of school. Sunday is Canada Day. There is basketball and soccer camp and our annual trek to the extended family and friends in the States. Blocked in but certainly not set at a Bataan Death March.
There is a roof in need of new shingles and a playhouse (with a front porch that Dee desperately wants a swing attached to) in need of construction. It’s not as if the time off months is devoid of “have to’s”, but certainly there are no penalties for delays when a lake, hiking trail or camp ground calls.
Idly I think about the coming year. Toy with the idea of a “real” job. Although, I’m already covering so many yoga classes in the first month and a half that I don’t know if I could fit a “real” job around them.
The weather is assaulting me of late. To the point that it almost feels like Iowa and I lack the a/c buffer advantage I had down there, but too much humidity (which is freakish in a climate change kind of way) aside, there is little to complain about in terms of how the summer is shaping up. My two Canucks are withering damp rag dolls but it’s not really hot. Pleasant. Uncharacteristically so.
Dee’s friendship woes have turned a positive corner and I might even be on the verge of having one of those “let’s have lunch” type of girl relationships that, for the most part, have not been a reliable feature of my adult female life.
Slow, lazy (a given in any case) and steady is the mood rating – if I did cheesy sort of things like that.