Next Time Around the Sun
October 1, 2020
Well, September happened. The leaves have started to fall and change color. The days are getting shorter, and life will be snuffed out as we know it here in cold Alberta fairly soon. The month came as expected: chaotic, disorganized, full throttle into masks, hand sanitizer and just an all around wicked ride on the merry go round of life in amidst a pandemic.
Educators braced for September, waiting for the cold and flu season to start. Here it is! Most high schools here in Edmonton have cases of the “Vid” as I call it; isolation is starting to ramp up, parents are trying to jump their kids into online, and teachers and admin teams are juggling the balls like champs. A sassy group of kids started a bingo card on social media with a X for each school that gets Vid cases. Our school made it until last week, so no prize for us. I suspect wine sales are up for anyone in education, but hard to find data on that.
However, I added a bottle of gin to the rotation this month for my own sanity. A few of us are working hard on preparing our own “teacher down” bingo cards for when- not if- our time comes for a mandatory 14 days of isolation. We are all wondering which kid it will be in our class, which class, how long will this be, who will test positive, and how many kids will test positive. Of course, in my cheekiness, I have been encouraging my morning class to do this in segments; everyone to take a turn at isolation. We could probably roll that way and stay in our stretchy pants till the quarter ends in November. We are all coping as best we can.
I am also looking suspiciously at social media posts of well put together humans with autumn pictures of their porches decked out with pumpkins and plaid, making soups in their kitchens, harvesting gardens and canning. I must admit I am just a smidge envious for two reasons. 1. They look put together. 2. I want my own kitchen with my own pots and pans and all my gadgets I have bought the past few years. I sold my house that I had lived in for 15 years in June. Then I stayed in Texas for 6 weeks, bought the property for the BnB, and now at my folks home which also soon will be up for sale. Next stop is unknown till I make my way back to Texas in 2021. Please cue image of the Littlest Hobo here- maybe tomorrow I will want to settle down… so if you want to join me just for a little while grab your hat...The adage for many of this year seems to be “next year.” But this is where I pause because the next ride around the sun I will be a small business owner puttering around in a newly constructed house, a BnB on the property, looking at the lake and embracing the world of hospitality. And all from the comfort of Texas weather. And while that is next year, I cannot help but think how my past teaching career has helped prepare me for my upcoming hospitality gig.
1990 - First school picture
When I was working my way through university, I was a cute little cocktail waitress serving drinks to pay for tuition and books. And when I say cute, a size 7/8, pink lipstick and blue eye shadow, and copious amounts of hairspray to puff my already ridiculously thick hair. In many ways this prepared me for the classroom. Not my blue mascara but being a waitress. Serving a section of funny drunks is much the same as classrooms filled with funny kids. I “got good” at waitressing as I later “got good” at teaching. The management of a classroom of 35 kids is no easy feat. Everyday our goal as teachers is to provide a pleasing experience of learning for kids to whom some want to be there and some do not.
Let’s face it, Shakespeare is not always a pleasing experience. Everyone dies. End of story. And while I started with reel to reel film projectors and will be finishing with streaming something from some cloud in the sky, I have managed to enjoy it all. I have felt for much of this ride I have never worked a day in my life, but rather “went to school.” Each year I learned more about managing a class, working with kids, building relationships, smoothing over the rough edges of the crusty kids, [and my own] and building my capacity to juggle it all with empathy and humor– and all the while doing this sober.
Each decade changed with new advancements of what education could and should be, and I learned through experience what worked and what didn’t. Politicians still don’t know much education. I spent a lot….. a lot… oh so many Sundays grading papers….and being invested in my career. Technology, my favorite nemesis, continues to plague my self esteem on a weekly basis. Just when I think I have it, Bill Gates changes the system. I have managed to keep my sense of humor through it all even when a lot didn’t seem funny. Like a pandemic. Not funny. In 1990 I remember being excited to trade my serving tray and short skirts for a teacher desk and paper, and finally making good on my college degree. When I started my career 31 years ago, retirement was a long way away. I imagined I would stay in teaching; it never occurred to me to do anything else. I would get to 55, and then take up golfing. Ah, the naivety of me at 22. Now I have years of wisdom to draw from, and while I would likely have to sew two short skirts together to fit my expansive pack I call menopause, I am not starting entirely new as I did so many years ago. But I must admit, I am just as excited to start this chapter as I remember my younger self being that first day at my new school.
2020 - School picture
Sometimes the lessons learned in the past have taken more than once to learn… and some experiences have been less fun than others. There has been some hurt; some mistakes required more out of my bank account than I had wanted, and some lessons took a whole lotta wine to get through. I suppose it is fair to say it seems natural for me to take risks– or perhaps I just make a lot of decisions to try things that look good at the time, and then later the realization of “I did not expect that to happen.” I can be fairly self deprecating when the experience doesn’t always work out as planned. But I chose teaching as a life long career, and that has been the most rewarding payout to date. I really have loved the kids and the classroom. And so, much like hanging up my white board pen and leaving my comfy and familiar teacher desk, I am excited to meet my future guests at The Virginia May. I have plans and ideas that I am eager to try. Some ideas will work and there will be some flops. Maybe I don’t get the eggs right each Saturday, but I will probably nail the cinnamon buns more often than not. If nothing else, I can be charming and the first few guests will likely get a few coupons to come back again as I ease into this new role.
And what do I see you ask, instead of my classroom? I see a “weekend window” at the end of the driveway for baked goods for pickup on Saturday mornings. I can envision a deck with a BBQ, maybe find some local talent who will come and strum the guitar on the odd Friday night for tips. I see ladies getting together for weekend fun; and maybe I am teaching them how to make pizza. I will also see if there is interest for professionals looking for a quiet place for meetings and development. I hope to meet people from around Texas and beyond, with each guest teaching me something I will be happy to learn. Guest chef? Come on in. It will be a work in progress much like my first career. A few hiccups along the way, and definitely some eye rolls, but I know there will be just as much reward before Mackenzie puts me in the senior home.
I have much to learn before “next year” arrives, but I am excited to start it all. I know I will entertain all sorts of ideas over the months, and have enlisted help from all the corners I can, so that by the time of the Grand Opening, I will know more than I do today. I have been following Instagram pages of those who have figured this all out, and I spend a lot of time jotting down all sorts of ideas. I hope I can find the Texas waffle maker. That will make my weekends, and hopefully the weekend for the guests.
As a side note, I am looking at a pontoon boat this week from my new neighbor down south- Captain Ron I call him. I don’t have a trailer, insurance, or a cover– but I want the boat. The plumber phoned this week– some additional pipes need fixing is the short version. However, I still want the boat. And that’s how I have always rolled. Jump in. It has definitely made life spicy. I don’t want to get to the end and regret things I never took a chance on. So as John Baumann’s song reminds us, nobody’s got a day guaranteed, so make it count on the next ride around the sun.
If entrepreneurship is for the risk takers- I am all in. Y’all come down next year. Can’t wait to show you around; maybe on my pontoon boat. Or maybe I don’t get the boat but there will be water in the taps for your shower. Everyone wins.