Mumford & Sons have a song called 'Roll Away Your Stone' and the poetry gets me every time : "It seems as if all my bridges have been burned /
You say that’s exactly how this grace thing works /
It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart /
But the welcome I receive at the restart." Life moves quickly and the opportunity to restart -- and rebuild -- is a blessing.
Musings from the restart .....
I never claimed winter was easy on me.. in fact, from the second week of January through mid-winter break are admittedly my darkest days. It's cold, it's literally dark all.the.time., and I'd like to spend most of it in my bed. Since I have to shape young minds and generally be a grown-up, this isn't possible. Still those six weeks knock me on my ass every winter and things kinda fall apart - including my intentions to blog every week. I did actually take the pictures - just didn't post.
I could not find anything RED for #dogwoodweek3 so I just skipped it. That week, it was actually warm-ish for Michigan January and I ran a lot that week. I kept my eyes peeled and red just wasn't poppin'. Maybe I'll find something artsy that has a focal red point later in the year and I'll come back to it but for now, please enjoy Weeks 4,5, and 6!
Week 4: Portrait This handsome gentleman holds a special place in my heart. I've chronicled Mpenzi's life from his first day of viewing and he continues to grow in grace & height. In the winter, DZ visitors can get super close in their house and this particular day, he was right up at the glass, enjoying some greens.
Week 5 - black & white landscape These two little humans hold my heart - their curiosity, bravery, and sense of humor inspires me. This particular day we adventured to the Detroit Historical Museum & Detroit Institute of Arts. Despite it being a bright, blue-skied day, they hurried up those stairs from the chill of 12 degrees. I love the contrast of this great white building and the Rodin statue which sits outside.
Week 6 - candy So much love in my life! My (fairy) Godmother treated me to this fancy box of chocolates; it, along with these cards and a pink rose, is such a reminder I am loved.
I flew home from my annual MLK weekend trip to Florida, which always leaves me a bit melancholy. My mom drew my attention to this gorgeous sky and it caused me to reflect on the wonder I experience each time I "fly into the wild blue yonder". While I'll likely never get used to that huge hunk of metal lifting me up & away from my loved ones, this landscape reminds me of my blessings of great friends who are family, ability to travel, my sight, and the hope which comes from one day's end and the beginning of another.
I felt inspired to give Dogwood Photography 52 challenge a try.. I'm not one for New Year's resolutions because I am constantly reflecting, rediscovering, and practicing ways to be my best self. But I also really like the satisfaction of checking things off a list. Doesn't everyone write things on a to-do list after you've done it to achieve the rush of crossing it off with a definitive line?
Also, in the past six months my blog took a real hit. I've never written regularly but this is definitely the longest I've gone in between posts so perhaps this will get me back in the groove. Stick around to see 52 weeks of quick photography and comments from yours truly. If you feel inspired, join me! Add your photos' link in the comments section and use the #dogwood52 and #dogwood52week_ (insert week number). If you're an Instagram user, I'll post there, too, at skclance.
I won't be sending weekly messages letting you know I've updated (annoying!) so if you want to follow along, just check back ... here's the first week's post and the challenge was a self-portrait (a selfie, to be specific).
I dressed up for work today! After my classroom was a chilly 52 degrees all last week, and I resorted to my warmest sweaters and double-layering of pants, I braved a skirt today -- with fleece-lined tights.
I feel ready to meet this second week of January!
I took my self-portrait outside of room 403 - I spend more time here than my own bedroom!
Each time I finish a book for "fun," I add its cover to my door. I often find students checking out What Ms. Clancy is Reading and there are students who read along with me (I only know this from eavesdropping) which is pretty cool.
Anytime I attend a concert, I play a little game with fellow attendees. We list songs we KNOW we'll hear, songs we'd really *like* to hear, maybe a cover the band might do, and a long shot song. The first time I remember doing this, I was in middle school on the way to hear Paul Simon and Bob Dylan at Pine Knob. My dad asked me what I wanted to hear and without thinking much, I blurted, "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" - in that moment, my cassette tape of Simon & Garfunkel: The Concert in Central Park got a lot of play. What am I saying? My CD of that album still gets played regularly. The concert rocked that hilltop - Simon and Dylan's pairing brought young and old together for a serious dance party and I joined right along with them but never so much as when I heard the opening chords of "Me and Julio". As I jumped to my feet, I gave my dad a Look of "I told you so" and danced like the flower child I wished I was. I've grown out of the hippie phase BUT still play the game before most concerts. Sometimes we get really lucky (Counting Crows 2012 we heard ALL THREE LONG-SHOT songs each of us chose) and other times, Ms. Swift played neither "Dear Stephen" or "Our Song". These two choices might be why the category is called "long shot' songs.
I digress.
Kate and I promised one another that we'd see Mumford & Sons in concert together sometime in our lives. The band had not been to Pure Michigan on any of their short U.S. tours and we collectively decided that despite not being old in real time, we were indeed too old for Bonnaroo. With our eyes on the prize, we even considered a European adventure! We girls like to dream big. While seeing Marcus Mumford and his sweet harmonies in their English home would've been great fun, life often surprises and delights - like the time the band's recent U.S. tour included our beloved Pine Knob. Kate booked her flight, my ticket dealer Uncle Michael hooked us up with lawn seats, and we started our countdown.
June 16th arrived with great anticipation, folllowing a celebration of Kate's baby boy! Our spot on the hill equaled perfection matched by a pristine Pure Michigan evening. Very little is better than enjoying a picnic with a girl's best friend listening to good music. AND THEN...
It'll always be Pine Knob. Baby's first concert :)
They played my long shot song. (Hint: I love this song so much I named my blog you are reading right now after it.) As Mumford and his sons hit the opening notes, Kate grabbed my arm and I gave a cry of disbelief. Moments like these don't happen often but when they do... I danced and sang my heart out with tears welled in my eyes for the song's entirety. The whole night held magic and reminded me once again the power of music and the awe it creates when a hell of a lot of people get together to share it.
Awe: a feeling of reverential respect mized with fear or wonder
I feel deeply and with great passion, enthusuiasm, and emotion. I cry easily, laugh with vigor, am moved by greatness big and small, and I will always be sensitive. Luckily for me (I'm practicing feeling grateful for this) with all of that comes the joy of wonder. I read this article not too long ago and one particular line struck me:
"awe imbues people with a different sense of themselves, one that is smaller, more humble and part of something larger" (NYT, 5/22/15).
As I sat out on that beautiful Pine Knob one Tuesday night in June and danced with my 15,000 friends united in the spirit of music, goose-bumps covered my arms and for another few minutes of this amazing life of mine, I realized "how this grace thing works". In other words: "good, clean livin'"
My job makes me dizzy. I encourage students consistently to avoid hyperbole in the form of "literally," and yet at the end of some days, I feel like I (literally) spent the day running in circles. Back and forth, as I pace while questioning and listening and redirecting. Up and down, as I hop onto my director's chair and hop back off to make a point at the board or bend over to point to a journal or in peals of laughter when that darn 4th block, B Day class cracks me up yet again. Here and there, as I start copies, run back to the 400 hallway to check on the darlings, tripping on the splayed legs and straining for the harp's peaceful notes to calm my nerves, and forget the copies I left on the machine three hours before until I don't have them when I go to pass out the handouts to the third section of the same prep I've taught that day. Are you dizzy yet? I spend my days with bright, motivated, and articulate young people. I teach alongside some of the finest teachers in the instructional game who work their asses off. They're some of my best friends on the planet and we genuinely love what we do. When we occasionally crash into one another (literally), we laugh for a moment about the pace or the panic or the profession and then we're off again, racing to meet the next deadline or drama or dinner date with another stack of practice papers. My head is spinning. Sure, I see my friends. I spend time with my family. I take hot baths and drink a glass of wine and watch (don't judge) 3+ seasons of Scandal in a seriously short period of time. I go to yoga and occasionally even make dinner. However, when it matters most, I become this whirling dervish who barely takes a breath while she's click-clacking down the hall with a kid trailing me, asking about forensics or her Extended Essay or the latest edition of the newspaper. I'm planning and grading and meeting and questioning (always with the questioning) and yet, I completely miss the balance or the care required to be my best self, the happiest, healthiest version of myself especially in my work environment. And I'm often a dizzy, drowning mess (not literally). So, this November I challenged myself to a gratitude endeavor. Of course, always the educator, I dragged the entire freshman class along with me as well as the staff. The Freshman Focus, initiated by a colleague-friend and myself, intends to promote well-being and skill-building among the newbies in an effort to make their first year experience less daunting and more welcoming. In my time with them today (the fourth freshman-only Passport time this semester - eight of us each have a small group of 9th graders), we discussed the power of intentional activities, positive thinking, and commitment to dwelling on "the good stuff". We watched a portion Shawn Achor's TED talk entitled "The Happy Secret to Better Work" and each committed to one of the five behaviors research indicates will make us happier leading to well-being, gratefulness, and maybe even a more balanced approach. A bulletin board on the main hallway showcases these commitments to inspire the ripples to spread.
Here's the thing: research shows that happiness, success, and productivity breaks down this way: 50% is completely biology, 10% is our circumstances, and 40% is intentional activities. I cannot change the fact that I seem to be naturally anxious, determined, perfection-seeking, and Type A++ (despite having THE most laid-back parents ever and as hard as I try to breathe deeply and laugh at all these things about myself). The world isn't going to change dramatically in terms of pace. We live a dizzyingly fast-moving existence which cannot be controlled so there's another uncontrollable 10%. I can, however, send an email, snail mail note, or shoot a text to someone highlighting what inspires me or challenges me in a positive way or demonstrates gratitude. It's a small moment in my hectic day and yet, I'm committed to its potential to create ripples of happiness in my world because (clap along if you feel) happiness is a truth! If you want to create these ripples out of your life, here are tried & true suggestions from The Happiness Advantage (see above link) for increasing happiness.
Ten minutes of exercise reminds your body of all that good stuff which comes rushing in when your heart rate increases and the flow to the brain improves.
A random act of kindness such as praising or thanking someone via note or email not only improves that person's day but also contributes to your well-being.
Add three things to a gratitude journal each night concentrates your thoughts on those (rather than the one irksome item on which you focused.
One quick journal entry about one positive experience before you go to sleep leaves you thinking about it lastly in your day.
Five minutes of meditation removes you even for a short time from the ADD mentality of culture
Get happy (literally)!
Beautiful fall Pure Michigan days improve happiness 100%!
Research shows.
Perhaps you've heard: the weather of 2014 broke all kinds of records, caused severe damage, and wreaked havoc on Pure Michigan. From its beginning, the bitter cold shut down school (yay!) for days at the time and I snuggled into 2798 Phillips with my dear housemate, good books, my knitting, and the leftover wine from our bar christening (oh, yeah, I did just finish the basement -- more on that later). We're now into a new school year (my tenth!) and raindrops keep fallin' on my head.
House rules.
"Well, come out when the skating rink glistens"
When Detroit broke its 100 year record of 94.8 inches, it was April. No joke. Here's the article. As nice as the snow days were and as much as I like sweaters and hot chocolate as much as the next true Michigander, enough was enough. I was most definitely not the girl rooting for that extra half an inch so we could claim a record had been broken.
Bright spot amidst the cold - helping Daniel learn to ice skate!
My lady friends at Maggie's son's wedding
Beautiful day at New Smyrna
"Broken pipes, broken tools"
The really deep hole with two men in it
The trench in my front yard
To escape the frigidity, my Florida friends embraced me like a refugee in both January and February - thank you, friends! Shortly before I left, however, blank gunk seeped onto the floor from the floor drain in the laundry room. If this happens to you, call the plumber. Immediately. This might lead to the water being shut off for ten days carpet being cut to find drains and pipes, big trucks digging up the frozen ground in the front yard, and all the sewer lines being replaced. You still should call the plumber. Immediately. My retired dad oversaw the project while I basked in Florida's February rays. Thanks, Dad! I returned home and while the project was mostly completed, the water still had not been turned back on ... "to my parents' house, I go". My sewers, however, are really clean.
"And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'"
The sewage-water at its highest
On the night of August 11th, I watched as Phillips Avenue filled with water. This is actually fairly normal and I didn't think much of it; what was not normal, however, and what I did not realize, was that the rising water came at such a speed that sump pumps and sewers were not able to keep up. My friend Brad called to ask if I'd come over to hang out with his boys while he attempted to siphon the water out of his basement. Before I attempted the trip, I happened to look into my newly finished, "solidly waterproofed" basement to see the water gathering on the floor. I now understand what it means to feel utterly helpless. The water rose so fast and with such momentum, at points I just stared as it got higher and higher. My mom risked driving in absurdly flooded roads to help me bail out the basement; ultimately, the water disappeared almost as quickly as it rose and within a short time, the carpet was soaked but not covered and all that remained was remnants of the sewage. (It looked remarkably like the black gunk previously seen in episode February so apparently the pipes were not quite as clean as I thought.) All over the area, people were forced to ditch cars on the interstate, salvage what they could from flooded basements, and at points, just sit helplessly. It was a wacky experience, and really made me empathize with those who have lost their homes to flooding. My parents helped as I salvaged most of my belongings and calmed me down in my more frantic moments. I know a guy who knows a guy and the basement was clean and dry before many people could even get on a waiting list for abatement! (Is it needless to say that I never made it over to the Davies' that night? Honestly, I'm not sure how I would've gotten there with sheets of rain pouring down and flooded streets.)
"Come in, she said, I'll give you shelter from the storm"
It stormed rather hard again last Friday night and shortly into the storm, the lights flickered a few times and we lost power. Deborah and I really couldn't do much but laugh. Let's be honest: it was really just a good opportunity to go to bed *extra* early on a Friday night. It was the hottest evening we've had all summer and to escape the dead air, I ended up sleeping on one-third of the sectional in the basement, which, if you recall, is gutted. Saturday morning, we typically chat with coffee in our jam-jams; this weekend's chat happened without coffee in the dark basement pre-cleaning out the fridge. Once again, I loaded the car, this time with my fridge's contents, and headed to my parents'. Just when they think they're rid of me ..... Thankfully, they are always up for a visit and providing shelter to their wayward daughter and the power resumed late last night in time for my fourth week of school to begin. On my way in this morning, NPR reported 98,000 Detroiters are still without power. Again, I lifted up a silent prayer that truly, my situation could pretty much always be worse.
"It's not dark yet"
Despite the major inconveniences of 2014 weather-related incidents, I am deeply fortunate. Fortunate to have made it through with my home intact, my body all in one piece, and my spirits high, thanks to my framily who keeps me laughing and never minds hearing my woeful tales. I know full well how good I have it. Simply put, 2014 has been a year of growth. From its beginning, my strength as a person grew through all the reminders that I am SO not the one in control. It would be great if life were easy and if everything went exactly the way I expected to or the way I really, really, really want it to. And yet, that's just not real life. It is a year of bright spots - good friends, family memories made and big moments celebrated (two retirements!), a Forensics season of which I am incredibly proud, my new car, Poppy!, the third CHWC in the D which was bigger and more impactful than ever, summer travels including my first UP trip, an impromptu Justin Timberlake concert which qualifies as one of the best nights of my life, planting in the Secret Garden and escapes into fiction (highlights: Wonder, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, I Kill the Mockingbird,The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, and The One and Only Ivan).
CHWC dance party 2014
Reading on Belle Isle (Detroit skyline)
Nathan and Charlotte honoring a tradition in the Boston Common
Celebrating Kate's birthday in Nashville
JT
UP blueberry-picking with Sue
Arch Rock on Mackinc Island
Poppy faithfully carrying my new plants
"I got all the love, honey baby / You can stand" As a kid, I read Highlights Magazine religiously and really love the Hidden Pictures page. So, how many hidden blessings can you find in this post? I count a whole bunch for 2014 and the list keeps rolling. Life remains .. full of grace.
Praise the Lord, our minds finally stopped wandering with the sentence beginning "When the basement gets finished ........." IT IS DONE! And it's beautiful.
Since I moved into 2798 Phillips 2 years ago, I've dreamed of transforming the basement into livable space. I grew up in two homes where some of the best memories derived from time spent in our basement living space. On Harrison, we had an amazing playroom, complete with a fish tank, play school and kitchen space, and treasures like PlayDough and art supplies (the PlayDough made us really popular among the neighborhood kids). The wood burning stove and our favorite VHSes played again and again added to its coziness. When we moved to Windsor, my parents remodeled the basement several years after we moved in to give Pat a larger space in which to live (it's a sweet chilly and dark cave of a room which fortunately I called home for a short while not too long ago) and a cozier living space. Before the remodel, however, the Ping Pong table and many TAG parties kept it a lively space. My vision of my musty "Michigan basement" in the Berk developing into the warm, bright, and livable space stemmed from these happy memories of family and friends.
"And I'm painting my room in a colorful way"
So, with the addition of a housemate in early October, I decided more space would be helpful and thus started six weeks of rotten wood removal, dry wall creation, painting, carpet laying, bar building, and shelf creating. It took the patience of the contractor Nick, my dutiful parents, and my dear housemate Deborah to help me through the decision making, mind changing, and constant dust. Thankfully, Deborah laughed through most of the noise, dust, singing, and transformation. And, luckily, she wanted to celebrate with me in a big way at the culmination of the project with a Bar Christening party. Thanks to everyone who joined us - we have rockin' friends!
Below are some before and after pics plus some shots from the party .. enjoy!
All the rotted wood under the stairs needed to be cleared
The wall's up!
Look at all the storage space .. we'll eventually have
Drywall
Messy, messy, messy
More mess
My dad is basically a master painter
Painting's done
Furniture & carpet
Behind the bar (thanks for the fridge, Mom & Dad!)
Newest bar in the Berk!
Bar christening
Moonshine shots in celebration! "The basement is DONE!"
My ladies!
Cheers!
And the day after the party, we played a little Ping Pong.