My loud voice and other small, incohesive thoughts

I've had some good ideas for blog posts recently, but none of them have quite worked out. One idea was to take some pictures of the darling houses and cornfield that are in our neighborhood and write a small bit about the kind of people I imagine would live in each one. I set off with Sumanth as my photographer, and as we got to the very first house, the owner came out on the porch demanding to know why we were taking pictures of 'HIS PROPERTY' . . . needless to say, that kind of killed the charming post I was planning about how, in that house, I invisioned a research librarian who loved tangerines and playing checkers with her grandchildren.

This morning, as I was directing the morning traffic on our third to last day of summer classes, a teacher came up and told me that I had found my loud voice this summer. He said that my voice was 'suprisingly filling up the whole auditorium.' . . . I think that this has probably helped me survive the summer, but I do hope my quiet voice returns soon.

One tiny student came up to me today and asked if he could have an extra project to do during his lunch hour. I remarked on how well mannered he was and he said, 'Well, I had a very strict teacher last year,' and I nodded and smiled as he went on to say, 'and I have apocalyptic fears.' Oh, boy.

Today a student called in to say that she wouldn't be coming in because she stayed up late and needed to 'get her sleep out.' I'm trying to decide whether I think that is a nice way to put it.

Thursday we are leaving after the summer showcase to celebrate my grandparents' sixtieth anniversary in St. Augustine, which I think is very close to a perfect city. I'm looking forward to showing Sumanth the Bridge of Lions as well as the candy store where I used to buy pralines and the small shore where my dad would pay my brother and I to catch sand crabs. (In years of vacations, we never caught one.)