The Writer and the Wrench

Dozens of student recommendation letters and three thank-you notes. Thank you. Two words that probably top the most frequently used phrases in our language. There are many tones (heart-felt, sarcastic, nonchalant) and modes (verbal, email, text) in which to send a thank-you. My favorite? The handwritten note. When I was growing up, my mom always made me write thank-you notes to my relatives and friends whenever I received a gift, even if I was able to say “thank-you” in person. And then I married my husband. In his family, a verbal thank-you over the phone suffices at Christmas and birthdays. While I’m grateful that there is no expectation on his…

After many years our passion had cooled. But when you died, I discovered the evidence. Lipstick on collars, late night calls, love letters. Receipts and roadmaps. Withered flowers, chess pieces, take-out boxes. All things that made me cry. Signs that all along, I was yours and you were mine.

“For the Record” Silence.The popping of a switch and the movement begins.Round and round and round in the quiet,Until trembling forefinger and thumb lift the cartridge and lay it down.Together, the black groove and needle danceAllowing the notes to escape incarceration.Lifted head, lowered lids,Breath and heartbeat synced.For an hour, here is paradise.Every end comes with the option to begin again.

Teachers make thousands of decisions every day, many of them impulsive. It’s the nature of working with people, especially hormonal teenagers. While you can perfectly plan your day, you can’t control the questions your students ask or the actions they take, most of which call for redirection. And just like that, things don’t go as planned. The problem with making impulsive decisions is that you WILL make mistakes. This is an indisputable fact. I’ve made my share of mistakes, and even with thirty-eight days of teaching left, I will, indeed, do or say something that will cause me to take the walk of shame through the breezeway and to my…

What’s worse than not knowing what you’re talking about?  Standing in front of a group of twenty-five College Board AP English Students and not knowing what you’re talking about. Forget about a bear mauling and devouring me. Some of these kids had me for lunch almost every day. That year, I was on a steady diet of salt water, fresh from my own face. My first year as an AP English teacher came when I started my fifth year teaching. This small town gal didn’t know anything about advanced placement. I went to a school that didn’t even have an honors program. The first time I heard the words “diction”…

Culottes, hymnbooks, and A Beka curriculum. If you didn’t attend a private, Baptist school, these words mean nothing (unless you made fun of the kids who did attend such a school). In 2000, I graduated high school alongside thirteen friends who made up our class body since their kindergarten years in my ultra-conservative K-12 school. I can probably count on two hands all of the writing assignments my teachers gave me during my middle and high school years. A sixth grade research paper on the pony express. A middle school poetry project. A couple of book reports. A senior research paper about abortion. Okay, so apparently I only need one…

It has taken me almost thirty-two years to get to this point, and I am afraid I still do not know where I am going. I’m camping in the wilderness alone with only a tent, a flashlight, and a pack of gummy worms. Inevitably, I will be mauled to death and devoured by a bear. But the trip is fun. My journey began when I was six. But, fast forward to my first college level English class. I was a history major. My teacher, Linda Cooper, head of the theater department, assigned Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul as our textbook for the composition course. You can’t do that. Assign a “real”…

It’s been about 2.5 years since Brent embarked on this DIY project that would completely transform our family room! When we originally bought our home 9.5 years ago, it was in terrible cosmetic shape. But, the house had good bones. We saw so much potential, but we didn’t readily have the money to do exactly what we wanted. For 7 years, our family room wasn’t really a place we enjoyed gathering. We had nice leather couches from when we got married, but they weren’t cushy and inviting. And the wall for the TV…it was awkwardly offset in the room and our entertainment center didn’t cover the entire wall. Here’s a…