China, holidays, random, teaching

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho

A Snowy St. Patrick’s Day
(My stretch of Virginia rarely looks this beautiful in winter)

Well, yesterday was Monday which, this winter, seems to mean SNOW DAY!  Originally, snow days were freaking me out a bit as I thought of all the writing I still had to cover with the kiddos.  Fortunately, I came to the revelation that I can’t control the weather so…stress less.  Instead, I enjoyed the extra time off catching up on a few things since I was in Virginia Beach last weekend.  I did laundry, wrote lesson plans, read, and then drove over to spend a few hours with my friend Rachel and her baby boy who were in town for a long weekend.  Not only was the drive to Rachel’s amazing (see the top of the post), Cole was precious.  He smiled, he cried, and he smelled like…well, a baby, which is just adorable.  (Speaking of which, what does make a baby smell so good?)  He is also extremely gifted at the art of cuddling which makes me wish, now more than ever, that Rachel and her family didn’t live so far away.

And speaking of living far away, I got an email late last night that it was time to contact my school to purchase a ticket for August.  Work permit paperwork has been turned in, but there always seems to be more to do.  I have a criminal-background-check affidavit to send in, flight booking, and the small matter of going through all my stuff for a rousing game of send*, sell**, stash***, or trash****.

*to China
**a bit obvious
***in my parents’ basement
****again, obvious

I suppose I should go get my things ready for work.  Enjoy your Tuesday!

holidays

When Irish Eyes Are Smilin’

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!  While this post has nothing to do with saints or Patricks, I felt it would behoove my Irish heritage to at least draw attention to this day.  Thus, a short post by celebrated Irishman, W.B. Yeats:

I am worn out with dreams;
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams;
And all day long I look
Upon this lady’s beauty
As though I had found in a book
A pictured beauty,
Pleased to have filled the eyes
Or the discerning ears,
Delighted to be but wise,
For men improve with the years;
And yet, and yet,
Is this my dream, or the truth?
O would that we had met
When I had my burning youth!
But I grow old among dreams,
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams.