Friday Tidings

This is Kelly—she teaches full-day Kindergarten. Her classroom welcomes young learners each new school year at a time when everything is new and just a bit scary for those kids. But Kelly connects with each child —developing a relationship that both welcomes and inspires each one to explore a bigger world. She’s the reason some parents outside our district choose our school for their kids. She prepares and equips students for the next grade—and does so with a zeal that the kids take with them. Those little kids feel a bit bigger and more confident in their world.  But like many of her fellow teachers, the pandemic has made education challenging. Kelly's lessons include protection from Covid while also helping her kids master the required skills. I can’t imagine how hard it is to teach new words while wearing a mask. How about play time—where social skills are learned, but social distance is required? This is year three with schools impacted by the pandemic. Teachers face the da

The winter of 1984 only seemed to get colder each day. As a former coastal girl, Eastern Washington winters were brutal. I had tried wearing extra sweaters, but I couldn’t keep from shivering. At the time, we lived in a single-wide trailer, out in the middle of what once was an old pasture. Now, narrow strawberry rows graced our ten-acre farm. Nothing stopped the determined winds from rushing down the steep hills behind us and blowing against our trailer. Each blast rattled our metal roof. Whatever wasn’t tied down outside tumbled down the fields. In the mornings, I would bundle my toddler in bulky layers as we drove to the grandparent’s house. Papa cared for her while my husband and I worked. The wind pummeled the car as we drove. The locals informed me that it was too cold to snow. At least snow would have made the brittle cold worth it. As I opened the folk’s front door, a blast of frigid air came in with us. I quickly shut the door behind me. “Come in here where it’s warm.” Pa

I decided to pick my own decade for Facebook’s #tenyearchallenge. So here I am at six-years old and sixteen-years-old. When I was six, I was frequently scolded for not coloring within the lines. By 16, I was learning that “coloring within the lines” wasn’t the only way to color. But I still hadn’t faced the adult world. The ten year challenge photos have brought some fun to the Facebook newsfeed. As I gaze at some of my young friend’s faces, I don’t see a whole lot of change over ten years. That’s not true at my age. My mirror gives me my own reality challenge. But for my younger friends, you’re in the exciting, life-changing,  life-building years. You’re also making a difference in our world—or you can be. You’re doing the work of building a legacy that only you can create. Legacies take time, but I already see some amazing work in your lives. I have two young friends raising special needs children, others are tackling college while raising a family. Some are entrepreneurs. Buildin

Meet Larry, a bigger-than-life framed photo my grandson once had hanging in his bedroom. I told him I’d keep Larry—maybe one day they will share a dorm room or an apartment. Until then, Larry watches over me in our large garage. We have a lot of things like Larry. Stuff that means something to someone. It’s just a matter of where it all goes. That can be hard for someone like me. Larry looks like I do when confronting a mess—stressed and a bit panicked.   Ben Franklin succinctly declared: “A place for everything, everything in its place.”  That’s totally me. I put things where they belong. I confess, it borders on compulsion—you can ask my family. I’ve gotten in trouble putting other people’s things away where I think they belong. If I get a call from my grandson, it’s not just to say hello, it’s to ask me where I put something he’s looking for.   Yes, I’m one of those neat freaks. My family gives me more grace than I deserve. They roll their eyes as I flit around keeping things tidy.