Shannon Writes...

More Skye.

I'm back with a few more pictures of the beautiful Isle of Skye, where I vacationed this summer. Life is quieter on Skye, although they still have traffic jams.

I just can't get over -- still, two months later -- the sky of Skye. It is so big and blue and beautiful.

The main town of the island is Portree. It is, of course, picturesque and charming. There's probably a picturesque and charming mandate in the town charter.

Lots of people in the harbor area, eating fish and chips.

It was a cute town, and I found a really well-stocked bookshop there, but I just wanted to get back out to see more Skye sky.

And then, a little while later, I wished to be the people on this boat.

Wouldn't you?

Sewn.

One of my tasks this summer -- 75% complete at this writing -- was to clean out my spare bedroom (yes, I am the rarest of New Yorkers, I have a spare bedroom and I am not wealthy) and make it more usuable as both a craft and guest room. I did pretty well -- the ugly desk from an Ohio K-Mart? Gone! The CD holder from the Pittsburgh IKEA? Gone! Although, as I said, my work is still not yet done -- 50 balls of yarn I know I'll never use? Gon--oh, wait. Um. Bagged! Bagged and in danger of being thrown out! Very serious danger!

I did this because I am craving more organization and order in my life. I'm tired of looking up from my writing and seeing piles of stuff that I am completely incapable of identifying. I have some piles that have sat in the same place for years. I blame my parents. They are big pile-rs too. It happens to people who love paper and words, as we all do.

I also wanted to be able to sit down to write a letter or sew something without it being a major production just to clear off a table or thread a needle. I'm getting closer to that goal. Now I have a letter writing nook, which is also my bill-paying nook. And my sewing machine is not presently covered in anything more than the AWESOME Presidents of the USA tea towel my sister-in-law gave me for Christmas. In fact, I even sewed a few things this summer. Here's one -- a skirt for my friends' daughter, and my favorite fairy, who started school this year:

It's hardly perfect, but it's pretty cute, I think. I have a few other things to show but they will have to wait until I get back from my new Godson's baptism in a couple of weeks.

I love making things. There are very few things I can control in this world. My writing has a mind of its own. My students have minds of their own. My city has a mind of its own. My needles? They usually do what I ask.

Whew.

I am so very, very happy it is a rainy Saturday. I don't think I could bear a bright, cheerfully sunny Saturday today, when I am so sleepy and worn out. I'd feel obliged to run about doing things or being places -- in the park, for example -- and I'm not really up to that. I'm not unhappy, mind you, but have the cheerful tiredness of a person who's worked hard all week and then met her obligations to her friends with reasonable good humor. The cheerfulness of a person who bought locally produced milk. The cheerfulness of a person who has pizza dough cooking in her breadmaker. The cheerfulness of a person who's about to settle down with WALDEN. Again. 

Walking home from the library this afternoon, I thought to myself, "I think things will be ok." I meant school. Last year, as anyone who reads this blog knows, was not a good year for me at school, not professionally, not artistically, not personally. I met many wonderful people, but the year was a wash. And that's actually upgrading it, because I had been considering it a waste. I'm supersititous enough that I don't want to jinx this year, but things certainly seem a great deal better. I feel my teaching mojo coming back. I'm not the world's best teacher -- I don't know enough about different ways of teaching, different system of learning, how a child's brain works, how to keep on top of paper work. I try, but I only get so far. But what I am good at, usually, is conveying how wonderful plays, books, words, writing and reading are. Last year, I was so constrained that I didn't feel like I ever really expressed that. This year, three days in, I already have. I don't know if that's the best way to reach all of my students, but it's my best gift as a teacher, and I'm happy to have it back. You don't want things like that -- the core truths you think you understand about yourself -- to disappear. 

When I was walking, I thought that, and then "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee" popped into my head. One of my favorite hymns, a prayer of thanks and praise, no doubt because I'm so grateful for second chances. I thought, "I'm going to walk down the aisle to that song when I get married. Better yet, I'm going to run." 

Skye and Fairies...

Returning to Scotland, mostly because I started school yesterday and at least three different colleagues remarked about how much they enjoyed looking at these photos... so, my dear teacher friends, you are in luck, as the photos of one of the prettiest days of the trip are on their way, here!

The Isle of Skye is a large island to the west of Scotland. There are quite a few Scottish islands of note... Skye, Harris and Tweed (which I'll get to at the end of these posts), Iona (never been), Mull (likewise), the Shetlands (never been) and the Orkneys, which are to the north of Scotland (and are lovely, haunting, mysterious and beautiful and I've been dying to go back pretty much since the day I stepped off the ferry coming back from them). Skye is one of the most visually beautiful of the islands, due to its unusual landscape and rolling mountains and hills. It's hard to explain why (at least for me), but the sky itself is spectacular at Skye. There's just so much of it.

The first place we went to was an area known as the Fairy Glen. It's not well-known as a tourist destination, and it is somewhat obscure. You turn off onto an unnamed road and then drive just about until one of you in the car says, "Um, this is pretty but nothing --" and then you stop talking because you see this.

And this.

And this.

You'll drive further down the road and see landscape of farms that is just like out of Babe, right down to the chicken doing what chickens do:

Then it's time to go on to see more beautiful things. But you can't help but look back.

Bye, beautiful, magical Fairy Glen.

Back to School.

The poet (or the Bible, or someone) wisely told us that all good things must come to an end. This summer was a very good one for me, and, although I may have little dabs of it yet over this weekend, it has come to an end. I went back to school today.

You know what? It felt ok. It was nice to see people. It was nice to meet people. It was nice to see the walls are still kinda crazy-making blue, and that the construction workers are very happy to see, um, two particular parts of me. I like school. I have no recollection of dreading starting it as a child, or teenager. I liked the turn of the air and the purchase of new school supplies. I like learning new names and wondering about who I'll like or not like and what will happen.

I've heard many teachers say that the beginning of the school year feels more like a time to make resolutions than a new calendar year, which makes sense for those of us who live and breathe by the academic year. We buy new books, new pencils, new looseleaf -- how about throwing in a few new resolutions too? Here are a few of mine --

I resolve to try, as much as I humanly can, to wipe my mental slate of every student clean of all wrongs done to me.

I resolve to try to take suggestions of how I should teach less personally, but to also stand up for the way I teach best.

I resolve to only teach literature I can genuinely say I am passsionate about (adios, Hawthorne's "The Black Veil" or whatever that story is).

I resolve to continue to let my students see me read and write, and to share my writing work with them as much as is appropriate.

I resolve to commit to going to the gym at least 3 times a week, and will try to shoot for 4 or 5.

I resolve to not play more than three games at a time on www.tetris.com, when I could use that time for writing. No more procrastination. I'm 35. The time is now.

That's it for now. I've got a headache from the whole thing, and school doesn't really, really start (like, with kids) until Weds, so I'm headed for a nap. But, whew. To quote a friend who always says this (and I am sure she is quoting someone else, but I don't know the source): "All will be well, and all will be well, and all under God's care will be well."