i never wanted water once.

A red-tailed hawk crash landed in my yard the other day.  The dogs went wild hurling themselves against the patio window, as if a red-tailed hawk couldn't swallow any of them in a single bite.  But only a healthy hawk.  Something was probably wrong with this one because red-tailed hawks don't normally land on the ground like that.  He sat awhile looking stunned, and I and four dogs stared at him waiting to see what he would do.  Eventually he seemed to recover and flew away leaving the garden littered with feathers.

This happened in the middle of the afternoon at a time when I would normally be at work.  But I had to take the day off, the whole day, to see my doctor.  The school district doesn't allow partial absences, so it's a whole day off to go to a ten minute appointment.  Not only that but this appointment wasn't even a real appointment.  I don't want to brag but my doctor must really like hanging out with me because he makes me come in, in person, to tell me nothing is wrong.


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This week T wrote to me and signed off with the word Peep; which stirred something but I do not know what.  It's one of those memories that is too vague to do more with than to say I know that it used to mean something important.  But whatever it once meant, it obviously doesn't mean that anymore, because I cannot retrieve it.

And strangely enough I also heard from Dave and Jason, who were two of my best friends when I was in high school.  We used to go to the airport or the university in the middle of the night because these were the only places that were open all hours.  And talk about ideas for the books we were going to write, and talk about books we had read.  (Teenagers gone wild.)

And I was perplexed by the fact I remember them better than I remember T, who should be the one I remember the most.  They are sharp and clear and T is a fuzzy lint ball.  Interesting.


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A counsellor at my school is sick and I have been asked to fill in for her until she recovers.  Now because I will be spending my days in an office talking not only with teenagers but also with parents and administrators, I am supposed to dress, and behave, like an adult.  (When I am spending my days in the dingy theatre no one expects much.)  This is unfortunate.

On Friday afternoon my principal appeared in the theatre to ask me if I would do this.  And while we were talking about it, a student showed up who had been on vacation and missed several weeks of my class.  I was hoping he would make me look good by appearing concerned about his grades, but instead he reached into his backpack and pulled out an array of barf bags he had collected from various airlines for me.  This started out years ago as a joke, kids bringing me barf bags, but it has become legendary.  Kids I don't even teach now bring me barf bags from around the world.  The walls of my office are wallpapered with them.  The principal looked a little like she wanted to use one of those bags.  I don't think this exchange instilled much confidence in my ability to be an adult for a little while.


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