Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Halleeeelllloooojah!
My grades are in, my grades are in, my grades are in!
For a moment, just a moment, a euphoric feeling overcame me.
Intense pressure lifted like storm clouds when the rain has passed.
(Which, as an aside, that doesn't seem to be happening here. Anyone have a spare rowboat?)
I think it must be the same feeling students experience when exams are done, papers are in, classes are over and all they have to do for the summer is work.
But like all good feelings, it passes, and come September, the students are anxious for school to begin.
For me the good feelings end Monday.
When one of my intesession classes hands in their first assignments.
Let me savour this feeling for the short time we're together.
The rowboat reference wasn't a joke.
So much rain has fallen in little Fredericton, New Brunswick that flood alerts have been issues and in some places, roads have closed.
Especially those roads closest to the Saint John river.
Or Saint John Ocean as it should be called these days.
Every spring flooding occurs.
The issue is to what extent will flooding occur.
Three years ago the river flooded to such an extent that schools were closed, power was out, emergency measures kicked in. . . .
But was live at one of the highest parts of the city.
As evidenced by all the hills that must be manouevered in order to get to our humble abode.
Plus, our house is at the peak of the hill.
And every spring people email or message us about flooding.
And every spring I give the same answer.
If we flood, the entire city will be underwater.
Just call us Altantis.
Now that doesn't mean we aren't water-logged.
Because we most certainly are.
There is a small lake that appears at the bottom of our yard, the space that moves into the neighbours' backyard, behind us.
I think I saw ducks in it yesterday.
A couple of deer.
Beavers gathering dam making necessities.
Just a little sunshine.
Please.
Not asking for too much.
Nothing as crazy as temps over 25 degrees C.
And intense humidity isn't necessary.
A little sunshine to facilitate the illusion that perhaps we won't all require scuba gear by the end of tomorrow.
I also recognize that things could be worse.
For several summers during my youth I worked at a day care.
Nothing set the stage for a bad day faster than rain.
Being stuck inside with however many dozens of children is not among the happiest recollections of my teenage years.
So hats off to all those mothers who've been inside with their children for the last several days, taking refuge perhaps in the mall or movie theaters as a means of escape.
I've been there.
You will survive.
Intersession can be challenging for those who live with me.
Not only am I exhausted after teaching a three hour class in the morning and then another three hour class in the afternoon but. . . .
I have the car.
Which means that Stephen is home all day with no means of escape.
Outside of his feet that is.
Stephen is still marking, so there shouldn't be escape opportunities anyway.
Nonetheless, by the time I get home, he is ready for the opportunity to get out of the house.
And away from the dogs.
Who LOVE that he is home and express their canine joy in all sorts of ways that make Stephen want to duct tape their muzzles shut.
Which he would never do by the way.
Because the consequences, meaning me, would be disasterous and life altering.
Last evening, after he made supper. . . .
. . .something for which I was MOST grateful for as I had the energy to maybe slap peanut butter between two peices of bread. . . .
. . .and Em did the dishes. . . .she is such a lovely child. . . .
Stephen decided he would go to the grocery store to mail his mother her Mother's Day card and pick up a bottle of ferrous sulfate, an iron supplement I am supposed to take every day and haven't taken as I ran out and had no time to get more if I wanted to get my marking and grading done.
Two things.
Mail a card.
Get iron supplement.
Oh, and a bag of the gluten free chocolate chip cookies Em likes, because after eating them she doesn't feel as if her insides are revolting against her.
An hour later Stephen returns home.
Ferrous sulfate.
Check.
No cookies because they were out.
We'll check later this weekend.
Card mailed.
Not.
Even.
It's still downstairs on the counter, a vibrant green envelope that couldn't be missed unless you've been diagnosed as legally blind, addressed just waiting to be mailed to its destination.
The question, then, is what did he come back with?
A six pack of Coke and a box of Ivory Snow.
In addition, I heard the clinking of bottles. . .a sounds that makes me think a liquor store stop has been added to his travel itinerary for a couple of bottles of red wine.
I've stopped trying to figure out the mysteries of Stephen's shopping.
I need to use my brain powers for good instead of evil.
Mother's Day this Sunday.
Another restaurant family dinner.
Pray for me.
Title Lyric: Rainy Day by Coldplay
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