It happens every year. For the students it hits the second week of May. I’m able to hold off the contagion until the third week, and then my brain falls victim of a fatigue that makes no sense at all. People call it, “The End of the Year Tired.”
I began a Nanowrimo journey with my seventh grade class. A week in, I can proudly say, it has succeeded far beyond my wildest dreams.
Two best friend. An interesting proposal. It could be the best thing to happen to them…or the worst idea ever.
Why did we stop celebrating? When did we become complacent with growth? The smaller milestones are what get us to the larger moments people see.
She froze and blinked to push away what she thought she saw. What were the odds that her ex-fiancé, looking better than she remembered, would be at the table she assumed was reserved for her friends?
The moral of this post, and the point of my return trips to Arizona (in the middle of the summer) is this. Your children never stop needing you. Lessons that take a lifetime cannot be compressed into eighteen years. Especially when we don’t know what we’re talking for three of those years.
I am doing a mini blog on Instagram and Facebook. Because I have several followers that don’t do social media, the posts will be here too. I have been in Phoenix for a week. Before today, I would have honestly said the love is gone. Were it not […]
Small Town Spring is part of a short story promotion available on Prolific works. There are forty books from a variety of genres available for free download. Personally, I’m going to check out a couple of the cozy mysteries. I’ll share what I thought about the stories in […]
If she wasn’t so angry, Sara would have thought the situation was funny. Her boyfriend of four years cheated on her, and someone offered to tell his mother on him.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Jenkins,” Ryan called out. “This is something we can handle like adults.”
“Like adults,” set off a trigger in Sarah. She pulled her leg back and kicked Ryan’s tire. The force of her foot connecting with the tire sent a ricochet of pain through her leg. “Doh!” She groaned in pain.
She heard an older woman’s voice call out, “You should have kicked Ryan, honey. He’s the one that deserves it.”
It is the fourth quarter and the eighth-grade students are at that saucy stage. Those critical thinking synapses have connected, they get and use sarcasm. Basically the sweet kids that thought I was the moon and the stars are probably planning ways to hide me in the closet […]