missing lost things

so i've been kinda crazy since we moved but am finally starting to regain some sanity... probably because the day I was dreading, Aug. 20, finally came and went (yesterday). that was the first day we were allowed in the classroom...

let's see, yesterday. first i panicked for an hour straight in my bathroom. i don't think i hardly moved. i finally snapped out of it, drove to the school, got into my classroom, and proceeded to panic for another hour and a half. to pass the time and soothe myself during this period, i sorted all the construction paper into rainbow order, and alphabetized the envelope of cut-out letters.

today i went back to school and met with one of my fellow fifth-grade teachers (there is one more i haven't met). i learned more about the curriculum (which includes a reading textbook, ugh!) and we agreed to divide up (1) before- and after-school detention duty and (2) lesson planning work. i am to return next wednesday with 10 weeks of social studies lessons; she will provide 10 weeks of math and we hope that the third teacher will provide 10 weeks of reading. this is quite comforting.

not so comforting are some of the stories about some of the students, the fact that the computers don't work and that the leadership seems somewhat disorganized, and the possibility that we will have all the special ed students included in the regular classes BUT without the special ed aids that are an absolute necessity when you do that.

turns out we can't come back until next week, so i will be working in our tiny apartment and/or nearby coffee shop til then, also going to Targét for supplies. hoping i stay on track.

so anyway tonight at meditation my mind kept wandering (so what else is new) and i foudn myself being sad about some of the things we left behind at our house... the compost i worked so hard on for all those seven years... the potted plants, Audrey the jade plant and the nameless but fragrant jasmine... my hellebores... the trail through the woods... even the apple tree that shocked the hell out of me the first time it produced apples... snowy mornings where everything is bright and silent and the dogs are ecstatic in the yard... the bats that talk to each other under the eaves...

and beyond our house, things and people in Madison that I never said a proper goodbye to. we didn't see any of our friends before we left - too hectic. i will always miss my Picnic Point walk... that was really special to me. trout lilies and dutchmen's breeches blooming in spring, the lake lapping at the shore, full of boats in summer... in fall the maple and oak leaves coating the ground, and oh, that stunning sumac.... in winter the frozen lakes were so austerely beautiful... in spring the massive sheets of ice moving inexorably, piling up broken bits at the shore... then there was the 'congress of the birds' in late November/early December as all the migrating waterfowl cruised the lakes for a couple of days - swans flying in fives and sixes, geese by the hundreds, ducks, and all kinds of birds i couldn't even identify, swimming back and forth and round and round, talking amongst themselves... the soughing pine trees, the sharp pine scent that could be smelled even in midwinter...

then there was the beautiful drive home on highway 14 (not a highway really, just a two-lane road)... with the 'diversity farm' (three horses, a pony, a llama and a goat, whose antics Loopy and i always described to each other when we didn't see them together), mellifluous frog choruses in the ditches in spring, all the farms and cows...that one marshy field where there were always goose nests in spring, and once a crane nest, and at the right times of year, often cranes walking around eating, sometimes ducks, hawks too perched on the utility poles... the red-wing blackbirds perched on guardrails and fences, guarding their nests in spring, trilling their territorial calls... the soft spring-green mistiness of the trees getting their new leaves, of which Loopy said our first year, "don't the hills look like you want to pat them with your giant hand?" (after that we always referred to that look as "giant hand time").... there was a bend in Black Earth Creek that i loved - it always reflected the sky and the surrounding marsh grasses so beautifully.

of course there are plenty of things i won't miss. all the restaurants closing at 7 or 8. the electricity going out all the time. tornado warnings. 45 minutes to get anywhere. people who think i'm weird because i'm 'not from around here.' that blatantly stupid and ignorant racism... our basement overflowing with useless crap... our house always out of control, always too much for us.

it's coming up on a year since Loopy's ordeal... i think of it more and more lately. anniversaries are relentless things... there's a lot i didn't really process at the time and i think it's bubbling up now. sadness, loss... another thing we seem to have left behind in Wisconsin... the free-walking Loopy... maybe she'll be back, but it seems less likely as the months pass... so she remains in the past, in Wisconsin, in New York, in Arizona, in the rooms we've already passed through, the homes we've already lived in, the places and times that won't come back.

it's way too late, well past my bed time... tomorrow i have to get up and plan 10 weeks of social studies. this doesn't seem daunting. it's just work, and i know how to do it. crossing my fingers that i feel that way in the morning. i know blogging was partly just to procrastinate on going to bed, and to distract me from my anxiety, but i don't think it's all bad, as it connects me to real friends... thank you for reading. from time to time it feels extremely lonely here.