I honestly used to think my teachers dreaded the coming of Summer Vacation. I just knew they were cherishing every moment with the class, and they would pine away all summer for September and sharpened pencils and fresh bulletin boards. After all, what else would they be doing? They were teachers, after all!
I hope my students feel that way about me, and can't read all over my face that I was counting down the very minutes until I could be free.
The first Saturday of summer vacation, I kid you not, I had a parent of one of my students call me, asking what her child's grades were at this point in the year and how we could bring them up. (This was a parent I had called on a daily basis the entire year with no response.)
I explained that it was summer vacation, so the grades were final, and they were not good.
Summer vacation? No, she explained. Her child was at school today.
I assured her it was indeed summer vacation, and also a Saturday.
"She must be around here somewhere, then..."
--Let's hope so.
The wedding planning business is definitely picking up! Our new website, www.whiteblossomweddings.com, is up and running and getting a great response. Event coordination, linen rentals, party supplies--- it will be a busy summer!
I have discovered that making websites is addictive! I made my classroom a new website, MrsMacri.com, and am now looking for the next excuse to make another one!
Since my last post, I have changed jobs a bit. When we return to school in the Fall, I will be teaching in the Gifted department for Kindergarten, First, and Second grade students. I am so very excited for the new challenge! Things are looking up on all fronts these days!
On a completely unrelated note, I recently purchased a copy of Wuthering Heights at Target. I had to look three times to make sure I was holding the right book at the check-out. The cover was black. The font was scary. There was a bright red wilting rose on the cover with a drop of blood dripping down. It was.....Vampiresque. Now sure, the moors were dark, the deception was depressing, but if my memory serves me well, Heathcliff never chomped into Catherine's neck. It got me to thinking-- just how badly every media outlet is selling out to trends they know very well are garbage. Not even Emily Brontë is safe, apparently. I cringe to think what my children will consider the great literature or music or movies from my generation. In the words of Kesha, (I say the name with utmost disgust,) ...."Blah Blah Blah."