Month: September 2016

It is Thanksgiving, and I’m home.  I’m so glad to have the day off and be at home with my family.  We’re celebrating, just the four of us, with a pre-assembled feast from the grocery store.  There’s a little cooking involved, but it’s about as low-stress as a Thanksgiving dinner can get.  Thank goodness!  That’s just what I need.

November has flown by without much time to write.  Besides the usual bustle at school, my family has had doctors’ appointments for braces, foot surgery, and CT scans.  My daughter has also been involved in a play in a local children’s theatre, so there have been rehearsals and performances to attend.  She’s even in a variety show at her middle school, so more rehearsals and performances.  Along with the performances came a visit from my dad and his wife, so November has also served up a helping of houseguests.  It HAS been a busy month!  I didn’t realize it until I started writing it all down.  Things won’t slow down in December, either.  My husband is preparing to make a business trip to Australia, my son’s birthday party invitations have been sent out, and the holiday festivities are rolling in.

At school, Marjorie returned to the office, so I’m finally relieved of her duties.  I’m proud to say she found the accounts in as good a shape as she left them.  I won’t miss the pressure of having to collect, record, and prepare all of the checks for deposit or having to prepare the monthly billing statements and distribute them to the parents, but I will miss the trips to the bank to make the deposits.  It was always so nice to get out of the building, even if just for a few minutes.  It was also nice to have an excuse to be left alone in the back office so that I could concentrate on handling the checks properly.  I’m glad Marjorie is feeling better after her surgery, though, and that things are returning to “normal,” whatever that means.

My little “pilgrims” and “Indians” enjoyed their feasts this week at school.  I was able to schedule the parent-teacher conferences for my son and daughter in the mornings so that they wouldn’t interfere with our Thanksgiving re-enactments at school in the afternoons with my preschool classes.  The children had a lot of fun making hats and headdresses and bringing a food item of their own to share at the feast with their classmates.  The food may not have been traditional (fruit, cheese curls, and cookies), but the spirit of friendship and sharing were.

Answer of the day:

Q: What was the name of the Pilgrim’s boat?

A:  The Sunflower

It was the end of the day, and I had stayed late to help with the ratio.  We’d had to send a couple of teachers home unexpectedly that were scheduled to stay until closing.  Both Linda and I had had to stay to cover for them.  She was down at one end of the school in the closing room with the children and Marcie.  (We consolidate all of the children into one room as the numbers dwindle.)  I had stayed in the office to cover the phones and the front door.

Linda came running into the office shouting, “Quick!  Get me the non-emergency number of the Netherville police!”  I desperately wanted to know why, but I didn’t detain her with my questions, just ran to her as soon as I had the number.  She dialed on her cell phone as she charged back down to the closing room.  I had to wait until everyone was picked up before I found out what was going on.

The front doorbell rang.  There was an officer there.  I ushered him into the school and went to get Linda for him.  They chatted for a few moments, then Linda returned to the office.

“What happened?”

“Varner.”

“Did he try something with you?”

“No more than usual.  No, I can’t be sure, but I think he’s drunk.  I didn’t want to give him his kids, but I didn’t have much of a choice.  Marcie and I tried to stall him and get him to call his wife to pick them up, but he started getting suspicious and irritated.  I didn’t want to agitate him any more than he already was, so I had to let the kids go, but I just couldn’t live with it on my conscience, so I called the police and asked them to tail him.  Marcie ran to the window and took down his license plate number, and they were able to find him pretty quickly and follow him home.  He wasn’t driving erratically, so they didn’t have any reason to pull him over, but I’m grateful to know the kids made it home safely.”

“That was really smart of you, and brave.”

“Yeah.  Please don’t tell anybody, though.  If Cate or Beverly gets wind of this, I’ll be in big trouble.”

“Okay, but you did the right thing, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s what the officer said, too, although he told me if it happens again to try to give them a call before Varner leaves the building.”

How do you save children from their own parents?  And, what’s more, why should you have to?

Hello, dear readers!

I just wanted to apologize for the interruption in postings.  I have been in the hospital and unable to sit at my computer for quite a while.  Thank you for your patience and loyalty.  I’ll have a new installment to my story posted for you to read soon.