Friday, October 31, 2008

No Coffee

The Halloween Carnival was a hit. I was in charge of the fishing pond (where the kids drop a line over the wall and I clothes pin a prize on their line). The alligator costume fit the theme but caused me to get tangled in the fishing lines through the night (it was the tail). The kids and families really enjoyed themselves.

I slept solid last night. I'm tired still. My cup of coffee is 9 miles away--left on the counter. Shit! I do have a pan of brownies sitting in my truck. I guess a chocolate sugar high will do.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Mr. Alligator

Halloween. What can I say? I'm never overly excited about it as a holiday.

Sure, it's fun to see the kids enjoying themselves. I enjoy the chance to confront our fears. Besides the vampires, ghosts, goblins, and (at least out these ways) skinwalkers, it just works out to be the best time for the most frightening to crawl out from their lairs; of course, I'm preaching about the religious fanatics.

Our school is having its annual Halloween Carnival at the local chapter house (local gov't building for those who wonder). When this came up in staff meetings several staff members suggested we must refer to it as a Harvest festival (but isn't that what Thanksgiving is about?!). Whatever you might want to call it, I'll be at the event dressed in my alligator costume.

The alligator costume came to me via several friends who insisted I dress for a party a couple years back. I wore it last year for the Carnival. Some preschoolers decided I was there to chase them around, so, not having much else to do, I did. They circled me taunting with "Mr. Alligator, Mr. Alligator...". Some preschool logic inisist that this is what I must always be called. There's a large number in the Kindergarden class who still yell "Mr. Alligator".

I'd hate to disappoint. The costume is back out from storage. Tonight, I slip back into my skin.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I Start Now

I like the word blog. Most of my favorite words are longer like guacamole, paparazzi, and lugubrious.

I am sitting in my classroom waiting for the first of Beclabito's three buses to arrive. I have morning duty. I don't mind and I won't apologize for not minding. In fact, I enjoy pacing along the breakfast tables and eventually heading out to the archaic playground to watch the kids. I hear a bus engine rumble. There's the start.