is this thing on? {solsc day 8}

Most of the time I don't even have an expectation that anyone out there in the world is reading my posts.  I get it.  I'm not a rock star name, I'm not super great at posting really often so I haven't built a following of readers. My blog is mostly library related, but I do post all my slice of life writing here, too, so I don't have a well-defined or specific genre that this blog covers.  I'm not writing about Paleo recipes or stay-at-home-mommy stuff or how to create circus animals out of straws.

Normally, it doesn't bother me when I see zero comments. I mean I LOVE it when I get comments, but on a daily basis I have no expectation that I'll get them.  I write for myself--to help sort out my thoughts and feelings for the most part.  I hope it resonates with others and that they are helped or inspired in some small way, but basically it is a more of a reflective practice for myself.

As much as it bothers me to admit it, though, seeing zero comments during a writing challenge---where folks are commenting on at least 3 blogs per day--- is hard.  I have a pretty strong self-esteem, but it carries the same sting as being chosen last for the dodgeball team, or not having a place to sit at the lunch table. Suddenly I'm 12 years old again and they purposefully "forgot" to tell me to wear pink.

I'm not good enough.
What made me thing I had anything worth saying anyhow?
I must be a terrible writer.
I've been totally fooling myself thinking anyone would want to spend their time reading my words. 
What an idiot. 
Everyone else has like 10 comments.  

Every year during this writing challenge it gets to me.  Every year I am reminded by these feelings to go out and comment on even more participants blogs because I don't want anyone else feeling like this.  Every year I make a blog post about it as a reminder to myself and to others.

I'm posting this in part because I'm working on being okay with being vulnerable.  I'm generally in warrior mode all the time, to be honest. I'll get it all done, with a smile on my face, and you'll never know I'm struggling. I don't love sympathy, I hate to be seen as any sort of "victim" or pitiful sad-sack.  Yet, here we are.

So, here is my real for the night, y'all--and now I'm off to read and comment on several more slicers tonight.  I hope you'll consider doing the same.

grandma's birthday {solsc day 7}

My great grandmother was the world's most kind and joyful soul.  Despite the difficulties she encountered throughout her life she always kept her quiet strength and her positive outlook. This precious woman, born poor in a small Alabama town on March 7, 1898, lived through care-taking for her siblings for all the years her mama was sick--all while she was a mere slip of a thing herself, two world wars, the Great Depression, marrying young to a man who was by no means easy on a good day, and having 9 children.  She seemed ancient by the time I came into this world and I always loved being around her.  This woman made the best sweet tea!  And her fried bologna sandwiches were just the thing to cure your hunger. She could out-garden any master gardener. She baked delicious cakes and had a smile for everyone around her. She was adored by all her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She passed away in 1989, but I carry her with me.  On days I'm feeling especially weary I remind myself that I descend from hard-working wise women like Nettie Ethel Mae McCrary Watwood and I stand a bit taller.

Today also marks the birth of Nettie's daughter-in-law, my grandmother Neva Almeda Shaw Watwood.  We called her Mamaw.  This is a photo of Neva with her siblings (yes, I come from large families) She is the one in the center of the photo.  Of course she is!  My grandmother was a strong woman, full of sass.  Born in rural Oklahoma in 1919, she also lived through the Great Depression and World War II.  She married my grandfather at 19 and theirs was a true love match that survived losing both their sons before losing each other.  She was a tiny thing---stood just about 5 feet tall, but she was a little stick of dynamite.  One did not argue with Neva Watwood.  I remember her telling me often to "remember that the man is the head of the house, but the woman is the neck.---and the neck moves the head, honey.  The neck moves the head." We spent a lot of time together, she and I. Looking back, I miss those days of shelling peas on the back porch and going out to pick peaches at the nearby orchard. She taught me how to crochet and she taught me how to take no crap using only the stink-eye and Sunday-appropriate words. She could make the best Sunday dinner you ever ate in your life, and oh my word, her chocolate pies were a slice of heaven on earth. On days I'm feeling overwhelmed I remind myself I come from strong and sassy women like my Mamaw and that nothing & no one can get me down for long.

So Happy Birthday, grandmothers.  You are loved and missed, and your memories are treasured.

rainy days & mondays {solsc day 6}

I can hear Karen Carpenter's lush soothing voice singing the lyrics.  I woke up with them in my head this morning. Rainy Mondays always do that to me.

But they don't get me down.  I really, really love them.

A rainy Monday just seems like the perfect way to enter the work week. It seems gentler, somehow; I guess.  I get the coffee going--the smell wafts delightfully through the library. I turn on the twinkle lights on the St. Paddy's day tree.  Kids are curled up on couches, chairs, and bean bags.

Books and rainy days just seem to go together. There's a coziness in the library on a day like today that is special. A certain rare hush that falls; a protective magical spell that the rain weaves over all of us.

Ah, rainy Mondays are simply lovely.

me: some ugly stuff {solsc day 5}

{part 3 in my 3-part the good, the bad, the ugly series}

I am not a neat freak.

I do not suffer from nor enjoy OCD in any way that makes my spaces particularly tidy.

I like vintage salt-n-pepper shakers and other whimsical tchotchkes.

I love to unwind by watching bad TV.

I drink coffee with creamer, Coca-Cola, and can absolutely enjoy wine from a box should the occasion call for such as that. 

My school kids often say---
oh, you love every book and everybody,

        name someone you actually don't like---

IF I were to go through my entire list from childhood on,

Brother, you'd be graduated and gone before I could list 'em all. 

I'm pushing 50 and I still don't always take all my makeup off before bed, 

or have an actual skincare regimen.

I don't spend enough time working out or working on my novel. 

I love to spend my first waking hour on the weekends silently drinking my coffee and catching up on my social media.

I am judgy of folks who attach metal cow testicles to the back up their pickup trucks

Or spend money to have something like "Vanilla Puddin" written on their back window.
Bless their hearts.

Unless I taught them. 

Then I love them anyway. 

I judge them extra if they're my cousins. 

I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm solidly and unabashedly me. 

me---some bad stuff {solsc day 4}

{part 2 in a 3 part the good, the bad, the ugly series}

Inside me, there is a volcano.

From the outside, you can't tell.

But that little girl they called Mt. St. Sonja because she would erupt?  

Yeah, she's still in there. 

    Not gone.

    Not forgotten.

    Just dormant. 

Thank you meditation, prayer, creeping-of-the-crone, for this gift you have given those around me.

   

My work day is filled with bursting energy.

I am THERE, baby.  I am PRESENT.  I am INTENTIONAL.

Sometimes so much that at night I find myself needing to be in a bubble of solitude,
Even from those whom I love best of all.

Patience is not my virtue.
Not with myself,
Not with other adults.
With kids?  Yeah, okay.
Grown folks? Not so much.
I'm not {often}snappish on the outside,
But on the inside, I feel the old rumbles of the earth as the lava begins to shift.

I often love the idea of doing things.
Until it is time to do them.
Life going to a social gathering on a Friday evening after work.
Or driving out of town to attend a party---especially if it is raining.
Dude, I'm tired.
Weary beyond belief.

Perfection hasn't been part of my journey on this earth, but my growth continues. 

me --some good stuff {solsc day 3}

I'm a Slytherin--Head of House in my high school's Harry Potter club, as a matter of fact.
I am hard-working, full-of-energy (at least while at work!) and always ready to lend a helping hand.

Despite all the obstacles life has thrown my way, I
-get things done.
-make life work.
- take pride in a job well done and always seek to do more, learn more, grow myself

I'm a giver and a doer.
I am a reader and a thinker.
I'm a talker and a listener.
I am a leader with a servant's heart.
I love the spotlight, and I love helping others achieve their moment in the sun.

I work at being salt & light even on those days when I'm feeling throat-punchy.
I love the lines that show I've spent my years laughing often.
I believe in win-win.
I am loyal and steadfast and true.
I am an extrovert with hobbit-ish tendencies at night and in the winter months.

I am a warrior, but I'm not made of stone.

Mornings in the library {solsc day 2}

I belong to several librarian list-serves.  These are great for staying in the loop, getting quick answers to posed questions, and learning new and different ways of accomplishing work-related tasks.  Once a year one of them even has a Thanksgiving recipe exchange, which is fun and a great way to build community.

Yesterday someone posted a question about whether or not it is a good idea to open your library before school.  I was surprised at the back-and-forth on this question to tell you the truth.  For me, this answer is an absolute YES, and it was interesting to see different perspectives.

Mornings in the library have actually been on my mind quite a lot lately.  We've recently learned that our start time will change next school year---we are flipping with the middle school start time so that my high school kids will have their first period begin at 7:30 am.

I don't mind the early mornings, and despite the brain research on teenagers (which is why the high school flipped times with the middle schools about 10 years ago), we haven't seen a surge in learning based upon school starting an hour later.  I know many of our kids need to work and an earlier start time means an earlier end time which helps them out.  I get all of these things, I really do.  But...

Mornings in my library are special and I'm going to miss them. We've built a little (well, big, actually) morning library family.  So many kids want in the library each morning that I have a literal bouncer (he's a senior now, so I guess he'll go down in history as our only bouncer) and once we have a pretty full house you must have a special morning pass to enter.  I'm talking about 200 kids each morning, y'all.

I arrive about 7:15 every morning.  I'm met by a group of between 10-15 students every morning.

We have two groups of intense chess players.  Sometimes one hides the others favorite pieces and the search is on to find them.  Sometimes I hear a loudish anguished cry from the back of the room--and when I hustle back to investigate I learn a queen has been taken in the heat of the game and "Miss, this game is intense---I couldn't help letting out that scream." We had a kid donate a beautiful glass chess set to the library this week so more kids can play.  This makes our third set and we could probably use more.

We have two guys who often bring their acoustic guitars.  They sit in the back playing beautiful music. Sometimes classical, sometimes classic rock.  They draw a crowd that ebbs and flows around them.  It is magical.

We have some gamers, some card players, some calculus student groups, a large group of band kids, some swimmers, some quiet readers, some not-so-quiet checkers players.  We have a few trying to get the last few winks in before 1st period on our bean bag chairs or couches, some doing each other's makeup, and some kids finishing up projects using our printer & student supplies.  We have some who color their stress away each morning, and some who just hang out.

I wander this library landscape, but I'm not lost.  I say Good Morning and How's your mama doing?and I'm so proud of you and Will you cut that out? They say Hey, Mrs. Schulz, how's it going? and Anything I can help you with? and AH! He stole my queen! and Thanks for making this our place.

What we have friends, is a morning library family. 

This is what I'll miss with our new start time.
And yes, we'll be open after school---but band and sports and club activities will likely fill in those after-school hours as they do right now.

And we'll grow into the change-- as we must.
I'll remember these lovely mornings and that which once was.