Now what do I do?

Today, I slept in late--I got up at 6:30-- and had a leisurely breakfast.

I have a few tasks on my agenda--many of which are things I've needed to do for a while--barber at 11:00, call the car dealer for maintainance, and take the boxes out of the car (my estimate of two turned out to be five!)

I'm going to take a break from blogging for a while--I'm sure no one will be interested in my post-retirement activities (slept late, had coffee, napped, ran errands, napped, etc.)

However, maybe some day I'll pick it up again. What shall do and write about? Political commentary? Celebrity stalking? What I decide to do when I grow up?

Until then . . .

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Done!

Today was the last day. I had no finals scheduled, but had two makeup tests plus a few slow pokes were finishing up a project.

I got my keys turned in, and my boxes moved to the car. There was, of course our recognition luncheon. (My speech got high marks for its brevity.)

My friends all came by to wish me well. There were many hugs and a few tears. Even people I didn't know came by and said nice things. (I didn't realize that I had made such an impression.)

So, after the goodbyes and hugs (and the moving of boxes) I went back to my room for one last time. I opened all the curtains and adjusted the Venetian blinds. Then there was only one more thing to do--I straightened the rows and made sure that desks and chairs were placed properly.


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Here we go!

Well, it is the last day. I got up before the alarm clock, excited about going in. I don't have any finals today, but do have a few makeup exams. Then all I need to do is upload grades (which won't take long), packup my last boxes (I think I will have two more), turn in my computer and keys, then go to lunch.

The toughest part will be lunch. Each year, on the last day of school, the administration hosts a luncheon for the faculty. Teachers reaching milestone years (5, 10, 15, etc.) are recognized. Retiring teachers are recognized as well--but are expected to make a speech. Mine will be short and to the point.

And I don't expect to get misty , , ,

Sharp Stick

Today, I was met at my classroom by a small group of regulars. Regular students who just don't get their work done. Regular students who are a little behind.

I was helping them finish a project and get ready for a test.

One of my finer youngsters, said. "Mr. Miller, you really don't have to do this. You are leaving, and none of this matters."

Of course I replied, "No, it does matter. I care about you. I care enough to 'poke you with the sharp stick of reality' to make sure you get the most out of my class."

Of course, his response was, "Oh, Mr. Miller!"


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