Day 20, 345 to go

I have to tell you about last night's dream (no, not Hitler again... much, much better!) It made me wake up laughing. I dreamed that my students and I decided to play a joke on Mr. Flesuras (our principal.) We all tied our shirts up so our midriffs were showing... shocking! I know. Definitely a violation of the dress code. Everyone participated, the girls AND the boys. It was hysterical. Mr. Flesuras walked into the classroom and gave one of the girls a harsh, stern look. I was afraid she was going to get in trouble, so I stood up and motioned for the whole class to follow suit. So, there we stood...all bare bellied, waiting for the laugh that never came. Mr. Flesuras then gave me a smug, "joke's on you!" look, and I knew something bad was about to happen. Just then, Mr. Ritter (Asst. Superintendent,) Dr. Leighty (Superintendent,) Chris Cordner (Asst. Superintendent,) and Dianne Vaez (Director of Curriculum,) all entered my classroom. I gave them the "deer in the headlights" look...They gave me the "bless your stupid little heart" look. They wandered around my classroom as I quickly scrambled to look professional... suddenly aware that I had not written my objects on the board. Ah,,, every teacher's nightmare. The only "school" dream I've had that was worse, was the one where I realized I had no clothes on. Luckily the brass missed that one :)

I don't think I want to know the interpretation of THAT dream ;)

Heard a funny line on the radio this afternoon. Comedian Dan Anderson said, "Having a kid is like getting a sloppy roommate who's never going to leave." No need to add my 2 cents to that one.

On a serious note, today my next-door neighbor passed away. She fought a 12-year battle against cancer; she finally succombed this morning at 7:30am...about the time I rose from my bed. The spirit around her home was serene and reverant as I paid my respects. Death is such a sacred part of mortality. Her passage was a peaceful one; now she lives without the oxygen tank that has been her constant companion for the past five years.

"Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame."
George Gordon

Sue's was a sweet flame. She was an honest sweatheart of a lady; she will be missed.