Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Last summer, a little sorrel (seed?) snuggled into our succulent pot by the kitchen window. It survived the winter, small and meek, and this spring, it's thriving. I love that little extra green, how it folds its wings at night, bursts open at sight of the sun.
This April Fool's, we had snow.
This April Fool's, there was an accident that closed the on-ramp halfway in to campus. I drove around the back roads of farm country, dirt roads slick with half melted snow, seeking another way onto the highway.
This April Fool's, I was five minutes late to the first of the two classes I teach, out of breath, weighted down with student essays and midterms.
This April Fool's, I stayed up until four the night before, with complete intentions for an all nighter and failing miserably. I'm not cut out for endurance grading, and I'm always able to falsely convince myself that I can get up early enough the next morning to finish.
This April Fool's, I ran into one of last year's high school students in the hallway. "What are you doing here, Mrs K-----?" Out of context; I'm Molly to my students now, you see. She's an elementary ed. student; I'm back for another Master's.
This April Fool's, Ryan and I stopped at King's Burgers and I tried the Dug Out, which includes peanut butter. It's not horrifyingly awful. Weird, but not the worst. I'd ditch the mayo, if I ever ordered it again though.
My April Fool's wasn't about tricks or lying, and I did resist the temptation for composite characters in my creative non-fiction class. (Shame, I imagine Trish Hampl admonishing me.)
I'm exhausted now, and I still have a wee bit of promised grading to go. I have earned the weekend after this, though this weekend won't be about relaxing. There's a certain nine month old who is going to get a little bonding time with his godmama.
Stories told by Molly around 9:09 PM