8/23: First day of No school

So, for the first time in more than 26 years, I don't have to go to an in-service, arrange desks, paper a bulletin board, hang posters, tack the Spanish alphabet above my blackboard, print out seating charts and soak my feet. I had intended to retire in two more years, but as one friend put it, the perfect storm of circumstances came up and June 10 of this year was my last day as a teacher. My plan was to blog my last year of teaching, but since I didn't know it would be my last year of teaching until May I'll have to settle for blogging my first year of retirement.

I didn't really feel retired until today when my husband went to his first-day in-service. Before today, it was just a summer like always. I am still processing the whole thing, really, since I didn't have that build up: last parents' day, last Christmas break, last field trip, etc. Suddenly I was just done. More about why later.

So now, no excuses not to do the things I've always wished to have time for. I will (and do already) miss the kids and my friends and colleagues, but not much else. Those who teach know what I'm talking about. There are many things  that are not obvious to an outsider: the oppressive heat when classes start in late August in a building without air-conditioning; the unbelievable ache in your feet that first week of standing all day; the hoarse throat from all the talking the first few days as you lay down the rules for the kids.

What I'll miss is the absolute possibility of that first week. The possibility that this will be the best year ever. The possibility that I will reach every kid. The possibility that I will finally find that perfect way to teach verb conjugation.

I flatter myself to think that maybe I have left a hole there, at least for some people. For the past 15 years I taught eighth-graders and loved it. We had fun every single day. Well, okay, maybe not every single day, but definitely most of them. I monitored sixth-grade lunch and my favorite tribute was the table of sixth grade boys in my section who were despondent when I told them I was retiring. One boy summed it up as only sixth-grade boys can: "It really sucks that you're retiring," he told me. "My brother said he really liked your class."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that even if I didn't retire, he'd never have the chance to be in my class. My district chose to eliminate the foreign language program in the middle school because of financial concerns. So by the time he was at the high school, I would have been gone. But that's a story for another day.

Today, I sent hubby off to his "Welcome back in-service," kept two appointments, took my mother to PT and got ready for tonight's Planning Commission meeting. I'm trying to figure out when the "retired" part happens!

Today: 9:00 massage, 1:00 haircut, check in with the Mamá, dinner, Planning Commission meeting.
Dinner: grape leaves, lentil salad with roasted red peppers and tomatoes, Greek lemon chicken soup (a successful experiment in technique), fresh peach slices.