Find The top o’ August’s Poetry Friday organized here.
The request from a school recently fluttered my way.
We were to pick a number from one to 70.
I picked 50. For no other reason than,
of the numbers, I am devoted to the round circle,
often oval, zero.
And five is a great rhyme number.
Alive, connive, dive, FIVE, hive, jive, live, survive….
In some sparkle of serendipity, the #50 that I randomly selected
is the right # for me. The crackerjack school leader there,
formerly a Florida Teacher of the Year,
has her staff’s back, asking us to send a book,
along with a note of strong spirit &
advice for the 2018-19 school year ahead.
Just pick a #, 1 through 70. And my anonymous
teacher 50 turns out to be someone
who will shape the days for the next nine months,
of a mixed-age class of young ones assigned
to special education. My heart pinged.
Some few of you know that intense life experiences
with two developmentally delayed relatives are woven
into the defining nature of my psyche.
Although a relative published some about the topic, I haven’t, much.
One of the developmentally delayed relatives let me know that my column
on the topic was unwelcome; my respect for that person brought me to the
decision that I can wait to publish. But it didn’t block my writing.
Among other pieces, I created & revised & revised a
critiqued novel manuscript for MG with the theme threaded through it.
Some day I feel I will publish on this topic.
My heart soars for any educator working in any setting with
developmentally delayed spirits. Although the Americans With Disabilities Act
is a wondrous thing compared to what was before, if you are involved with
special needs students you likely know there can be gaps, chasms,
entire sinking bogs.
However, knowing the leadership at this school that the little package
flew to this week, I think those bright kids in special ed. are
in brilliant hands.
And so I turn my attention to the half-there picture of my calendar year,
summer. On the writing front, I’ve moved forward much on my historical setting
MG verse novel. And summer isn’t over at the end of August because actually in Florida,
we call close on summer ’bout Oct. 1st. Am I correct, Florida folks?
Our June, July & now our August bring some ebullient moments.
From our front yard garden we have savored
not only figs from our own tree,
but also eggplant, first time for our suburban garden. Yup, from seeds.
We discovered a wayside tiki hut cafe we didn’t know was hidden where we had moseyed
hundreds of times before.
And when the beach is too hot to reach, we slip into our cool pool, if we
are not in a monsoon moment. And at the pool, hummingbirds zip low across
the water to drink from the flowers of the shrimp plants & purple cone flowers.
And we watch the skies for big birds and tall clouds.
I hope your August is sweet & that it is august for you.
I expect to be back with another post some time in September.