While I’m Here, I Might As Well Write

I came to write on my Proud of Every Wrinkle Blog and realized how long it’s been since I posted anything here.

I’ve been busy with my book. I have printed out parts of it and have more to print out. I need to get it all (that is written so far) into a binder, in order, so I can see what’s missing.

I’m surprised at how much is already written. I’m also still writing scenes for it from time to time. I don’t know if they’re chapters or scenes. I think I will figure it out as I put it all together.

I also have a book of stories from a public school teacher I want to publish at some point. I wrote about the pear tree and sent it to a friend and she said she liked it. I have shared that with others who also said they liked it.

I’ve taught school for sixteen years now – seventeen, if you count the year I taught Headstart, but surprisingly the state of North Carolina doesn’t count my year as a Headstart teacher. (and I know that’s two words. I don’t care. It’s been one of those days.) I’ve seen and heard a lot during my teaching years..

This year as I went to pick up my kindergarten students for the first time – I’m a reading specialist and they were having trouble learning their alphabet letters and sounds – and they asked where were we going? I told them we were going to read. For that is what they do – even if it’s only each other’s names, they are learning to read . . . every one of them whined, “we don’t know HOW to read”. But they trudged on behind me to read anyway.

Maybe you had to be there, but that made me chuckle.