Tag Archives: weekends

Spring time weekend activity

The weekends are getting busy around here now that spring has arrived. We’ve been so busy going and doing that I’ve neglected writing about all the activity.

Last weekend we headed out to the Clovis Botanical Garden open house. The last one I had attended had been in the fall where I had bought a plant for the backyard that was supposed to do well under trees. I never found out how well it would do because the snails devoured it almost as soon as I put it in the ground. This year I said no plant purchases. Instead we looked at an exhibit of birds of prey,  wandered through the gardens taking photos clovis Botanicaland enjoying the variety of plants.

Clovis botanical 2







The birds of prey had been rescued from various places. This fellow owl1had the most interesting story. He and two siblings had been smuggled into the country as eggs, dyed to look like Easter eggs. The smuggler then hatched the eggs and raised the baby birds only to be discovered by a bird sanctuary where the smuggler worked. The birds were rescued with this one (who was very vocal with his “who”s) coming to the San Joaquin Valley, one going to Half Moon Bay, and one going to San Francisco.

All of the birds are somehow damaged, either physically or emotionally, and unable to be returned to the wild. These birds actually put on shows during the year, helping to raise funds for their upkeep.Owl 2


The way it was


A young Facebook friend of mine posted this on Monday morning:

 >>Migraine quelled, apartment cleaned, clothing laundered, props acquired, sound cues programmed, new lighting board installed, (stage light) lamps replaced, third quarter grades finalized, student transportation arranged, new unit prepped, tomorrow’s lunch concocted, copious amounts of caffeine consumed, bedtime wind-down now commencing . . . show week, here 39 7th and 8th-graders and I come!<<

 She is a fairly new teacher who has six periods of classes having given up her prep period so as to teach a theater class at the middle school that is attached to the high school where she teaches five periods of theater arts. As you can probably guess, she is very young. You need to be to keep up that pace for months on end.

Her post reminded me of when I was teaching and how jam-packed my weekends would be during the school year. Every minute was precious, and as I mentioned in my post about the inner city café and the long wait for lunch, I could not waste such time during those teaching years. If I met friends for lunch on a Saturday, I sat with one eye on my watch, just knowing that I had to leave by 1:30 due to a still long list of chores to accomplish. On Sunday mornings, if the church service ran a bit too long, I was chomping at the bit to get out the door because I had an afternoon of grading to do. I was always planning the next hour and what I would accomplish with an eye on a list of more to do when that hour was over. There was just never enough time.

Looking back, I know I did a really good job as a teacher, but I also know that I raced through life, always counting how many more days before our next break when I could breath. In reading journals from those years I see, over and over, where I am desiring time to just sit and think.

Which brings me to now, in retirement, when I can do exactly that. Or, like on Saturday, when Terry and I could take a couple of hours to have a leisurely lunch and not fret one bit about the time. Then yesterday, a sun-drenched Sunday afternoon, when I attended a chamber music concert for two hours. Two glorious hours. Next Saturday I am planning to spend my morning at a garden show. Weekends are no longer a marathon of school work and household chores.


From TGIF to OMG

My Facebook friends, and others whom I know, and myself when I was teaching, all give the Friday rally call of TGIF. Thank God it’s Friday. Exhausted, ready for the weekend, seeking some time to ourselves. Except now, my husband and I wake up, and when we realize it’s Friday, it’s OMG, how did it get to be Friday ALREADY.

I think I’ve figured this out. When teaching, I was working so hard all week and each day was measured, but none of the time was my own. Now, every day is my own, and although I have worked all week, it’s been on activities that excite me.

I had one meeting this week, and I could hardly believe two hours flew by and I needed to get home so I could fix dinner. I spent hours doing research and making phone calls for the microfinance startup where I am working a couple of days a week yet I also had time to bake and cook. Terry and I took off on Wednesday and drove to Yosemite just to see God’s wonders in our own backyard.

Half Dome viewed from Taft Point

I edited photos and uploaded a batch to Flickr. And this morning we woke up and said, “Oh my gosh, it’s Friday. We only have two days left in Fresno to get a whole lot of work done. How did that happen?”

Today I am taking the chicken enchilada dish I prepared yesterday and heading back to the inner city high school for another birthday party for one of my teaching buddies. I know they will all be tired and ready for a weekend as this was an insane week for them what with grade distribution thrown in there on top of all the other work they have to do. I remember that week so well that it still makes me ache when I think about it. I, on the other hand, am well rested, and filled with ideas for the work I will do next week–writing a piece for the Laotian medical nonprofit for whom I volunteer, continuing my pursuit of an SMS provider for the microfinance startup, and talking with an organization for whom I may do some tutoring. OMG, Life is so exciting.

Half the day is gone

On school mornings I am up at 5 o’clock.  Not that I like getting up at that time, especially in the winter when it’s cold and very dark, but I like to read email and two newspapers before I leave for school.  I also have a few chores to do, like feed all the cats, and I always eat breakfast.  I leave time to sit quietly and pray before heading out the door at 6:55.  

On holidays and weekends, it is another story.  I’m usually up by 6 or 6:30 because I am a morning person and like to get all my chores and errands done early so I can goof off in the later part of the day.  This was the way I was raised, by farm parents, who believed you made hay while the sun shined, or in other words, get your work done, and then you can play.  Even during summer vacations, my mother had me up early because she was canning and freezing fruits and vegetables she had picked the evening before and I had to help.  This never worked with our city-bred daughter who slept in every holiday morning because I got all our fruits and vegetables at the nearby grocer.  The chores she had were limited to folding laundry and dusting.  

Due to a frenetic schedule the past four weeks, all those fieldtrips and tests, I am very tired, and when I awoke at 7:50 this morning, I was not too shocked.  I needed some extra sleep, but now, as my mother would say, “half the day is gone,” and the chores and errands still need to be done.  My husband, bless his heart, always makes pancakes on Saturdays, and there is a leisurely feel to the morning, with the sun streaming in the kitchen window, the newspapers begging me to linger and enjoy another cup of coffee and read every page.  Ok, maybe tomorrow I’ll get some work done.