Red or Green

August 27, 2018: Our little apple tree is full of little apples.

As I've made clear over the years, I'm no farmer. My thumb is not green, but closer to a lifeless, crispy brown. I've never kept a houseplant alive and healthy for more than a few years, and that one time was something of a miracle.

Our apple tree is my outdoor miracle. When we moved here, I thought it was just an ugly little bush. I never gave it any attention or care of any kind. When it started growing through my chain link fence, I planned to have it ripped out. Then, six or seven years ago, when I found a bunch of apples laying around the tree, I thought someone was throwing apples in my yard. Why would someone do that, I demanded. Even then, it didn't occur to me that the tall, ugly bush was an actual apple tree!

Despite my years of neglect, the little tree survived. It had finally captured my attention. Noting how it still looked like a wild bush rather than a tree of any kind, late last fall I asked a neighbor to prune the tree for me. Prune her he did, deeply. He cut out more than half of her wood. It made me a bit nervous, so I've been watching the little tree's progress more closely than usual since spring, comparing its stages to that of other small trees throughout our neighborhood.

On August 9th, the apples were still very green.

The pink-and-white blossoms came later than everyone else's. The apples seemed to take longer to develop. They appeared to be substantially smaller. And, while everyone else's apples started blushing, mine remained stubbornly green. I was beginning to foresee a crop of tiny, sour-green apples.

When I mentioned my concerns to my kids, both Sarah and Dylan told me they were pretty sure they'd always been green apples, never red. No...really? No... Was dementia finally starting to set in? I had such clear memories of the red apples I thought had been thrown in my yard, of the pink blush starting to color the apples late each summer. Was I really losing it?

Thus, I was quite relieved when the reddish blush began to stain parts of the apples in my tree. Not only could I hope for sweet red apples, but I also knew I wasn't crazy after all!

A fine blush finally appears. We should have red apples by September!

My concerns aren't over yet. It looks like many of the apples have developed rough brown patches on the surface. After an internet search, I'm happy to report that it doesn't match the damage caused by any type of pest or disease. It appears to be something called "russeting," often caused by too much rainfall or late frosts in the spring, while the apples are developing.

Russeting may decrease an apple's shelf-life, but it doesn't affect its flavor or render it inedible. On occasion, I've seen and eaten apples with scaly scars similar to mine, and they were fine. They are ugly, though, and I'd like to know how to prevent them in the future. If anyone reading this is familiar with this problem, please advise!

Meanwhile, I'll be watching.

Blushing beauties, with a little russeting thrown in.

On Owens Pond

Aug 25, 2018: Kids from church have a great time at Owens Pond.

School started four weeks ago. A month from now, autumn will begin to set in and the leaves will start changing up their colors. Out-of-town visitors will flood our community for the annual Fall Festival at the end of September, hoping to see the changing of the leaves. 

Now was the right time for a late-summer outing, before colder weather moves in. Thus, the bishopric of our ward made plans for a church picnic at a popular recreational area located on property owned by one of the early settler families in our area, the Owens family.

Owens Pond is a popular spot for young people and families.

On Saturday, everyone from our church ward--young and old--was invited to join together for outdoor fun and delicious eats, and all ward members were encouraged to invite their friends and family to come celebrate with us. It was mostly the young, of course, who took advantage of the huge pond for swimming, kayaking, and other water games. Most of us oldsters were happier sitting in the pavilion and visiting, or playing horseshoes and cornhole (beanbag) games. Thankfully, the rain that had fallen all morning took a break while our picnic was going on.

Mark (blue shirt at right) stands at the top of a small ramp.

Since we shared the property with a herd of cattle, it was important to watch where you stepped. I warned Mark about the "cow pies" underfoot, and two minutes later he stepped in one. In flip-flops. He scraped it off in the grass the best he could, and then we hiked up to the pond to watch the fun for a while.

I turned away for a few minutes to capture kids swinging over the water.

While Mark stood at the top of a little water-ramp, surveying the scene, I wandered away to take pictures of other activities around us. When I returned, he was sitting on the dock next to the ramp, moaning. He told me, "I almost broke my neck." He explained that he'd taken a step down the ramp into the water, hoping to rinse off more of the cow-patty gunk, only to slip on the slick slime of algae on the concrete. His feet went up and he landed on his back. Not good, but at least he avoided a head injury or any breakage.

When I turned back, Mark was sitting on the dock, recovering from a fall.

He'd slipped on the slimy film covering the ramp and landed on his back!

After that, we wandered back over the hill to the pavilion, where we sampled delicious potluck foods and visited with great folks. The picnic was well-attended, with more than 100 people joining in by the end of the day. Our bishopric provided burgers and hot dogs with all the fixings, while volunteers brought the sides, like fresh watermelon, homegrown tomato wedges, baked and slow-cooker beans, potato salad, macaroni salad, two types of coleslaw, and a variety of chips and dips, as well as trays and trays of desserts. We were stuffed by the time the event ended three hours later.

It's always satisfying to spend time with our ward family, which I'm so happy to say now includes my daughter and son-in-law, Sarah and Chris, since they bought their house in our ward area. It's a good feeling to know there are so many people who love us and are there for us, whom we also love and care for. 

What better way to spend the dwindling days of summer!

Over the hill from the pond was our pavilion and picnic area.

Two Big Projects

August 14, 2018: A gorgeous sky over Jacob's house in Mesa.

Despite my determination to stay out of the Valley for six weeks or more, circumstances called me back to Mesa last week. The long-awaited front living room window we'd ordered two months earlier (the one that cost a whopping $1,041.54) was finally ready to be installed, and I needed to be there for the big event.

August 15, 2018: Brand-new window and screen at front of the Mesa house.

Not because I merely wanted to be there (although I was interested to see what I'd paid for), but because Jacob no longer had a day off during the work week. Instead of Friday and Saturday, his days off had been switched to Saturdays and Sundays, and since he was usually gone from about 8:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., that left no time for him to tend to house-business for companies that closed on the weekends.

A reminder of how the front window looked before it was replaced.

When it broke, the squatters fixed it with a board and wrong-sized glass.

During the heavy summer monsoons, rainwater leaked into the living room.

Under ordinary circumstances, we could have asked my nephew Julien, Jacob's roommate, to handle the situation. However, while the installers were there, I needed to discuss the fates of three other windows in the house. Being a person of many questions and a stickler for details, I felt it would be kinder to not task Julien with the extra hassle and the stress of reporting it all back to me.

First, the installers removed the glass panes.

So, since the install was scheduled for Wednesday morning, and since Mark's days off are Wednesday and Thursday, we left home after Mark got off work on Tuesday and drove back down to Mesa. We stayed until Thursday evening.

Then they wrestled with the outer frame, which needed to come out.

The installers arrived around 8:15 and everything went smoothly, other than the difficulty of ripping a 39-year-old metal frame out of the window opening. What a difference. The large, sparkling-clean glass allows so much more light into the room. It slides open so easily. Plus, they brought us a brand-new screen. 

Finally, success!

During our time in Mesa, we also purchased a new window covering to cut the heat from the afternoon sun that burns right into that window, making the living room the hottest room in the house. At the opposite end of the house, the morning sun lights up the master bedroom, as well, so we bought a less-expensive window covering for that one, too.

Such a mess. But they cleaned it all up nicely.

After the new window was in place, I had the installers look at the two bathroom windows and the window in the master bedroom (Jacob's room). In the bathrooms, the former residents (squatters) had busted the panes and simply replaced them with pieces of wood. Those would be an easy fix, said the installers, and they ordered new glass for both windows.

And now, a beautiful new living room window and a new screen.

The back bedroom window, on the other hand, would require full replacement, just like the front window. Although there's no broken glass, the frames no longer lock shut correctly, but slide freely on both sides. Jacob had to screw the frames into place to keep the window secure. The squatters had wired them closed through holes they punched in the frames. After we returned home, I received the estimate to repair all three windows: $1,133.21. At least this time I was somewhat prepared to see such a large bill, but it still stings a little... And the wait won't be as long this time. They say all three windows will be replaced in the next week or so.

The installers check out the back window and make a recommendation.

All three bedroom windows have these goofy stickers all over them,

but at least the windows in the two smaller bedrooms are operational.

After the installation, while Jacob was still at work, Mark and I went to Walmart and Home Depot to pursue some smaller projects. We found some wingnuts of the correct size to secure the vent over the air conditioner filter, making it easier to open and close when replacing the filter. We worked out a temporary system to hang vertical blinds in the front bedroom. When we'd cleared out the house in June, we'd found an unopened box holding unused vertical blinds that were the right size for the bedroom window, but the hardware with it was the wrong size. Our imperfect replacement hardware won't allow the blinds to be opened, but it will cut some heat until we can do better.

Our temporary fix for the blinds in the front bedroom.

We also looked into special-ordering a door for the odd-sized side-door into the garage. When we were done, the cost for the special-order door came to almost $500! For a plain old door with holes for a knob and a deadbolt--no, I don't think so. Instead, we worked out a way to make the next-size-smaller standard door work and bought the narrower 34-inch-wide door instead. Jacob and Julien successfully installed that door just this morning, so the garage is now fully secure.

A missing kitchen drawer, right next to the stove.

Our final errand of the day was a search for drawers to temporarily fill in for some missing drawers, one each in the kitchen and master bathroom. There was also one panel-front missing at the kitchen sink. We asked about replacement drawers at Home Depot, but they warned us it would be an expensive and lengthy process. Instead, they told me about two other places to try: Drawer Connection, which builds custom drawers for economical prices; and Stardust Building Supplies, a warehouse filled with reclaimed building supplies, donated by people who are moving out the old to bring in the new as they remodel their homes. Almost a "Goodwill" for home improvement.

The missing wood panel hole that's supposed to hide the sink's underside.

Eventually, Jacob will refinish or replace the old cabinetry in the house. Until then, it would be nice to have all the drawer-holes filled with drawers. Drawers are so handy. We decided to try out Stardust, since it was only a mile from the house. I didn't think there would be that much to choose from, but boy, was I wrong! The whole southeast end of the warehouse was overflowing with old drawers. 

I couldn't even get all the drawers into this pic at Stardust Building Supplies.

It took a lot of searching and measuring (bringing along a measuring tape is vital), but we found a panel for the sink that fits perfectly, is only slightly lighter in color, and won't be terribly noticeable. They gave us that one for free. We also found two drawers, four dollars each. The one for the bathroom was just a hairsbreadth too tall to fit in its hole, but the one for the kitchen works. It doesn't match in color or style, and it's a little too long so it sticks out a bit, but otherwise it fits the hole perfectly. It will be a handy spot for Jacob's hot pads and potholders. 

Julien and Jacob tightened security on this kennel Jacob bought from Sarah, to

prevent the wanderings of Julien's escape-artist pit bull, Porsche, while at work.

Yet she still manages to get out, breaking through the chicken-wire-and-tarp roof.

Once all the running-around errands were complete, Mark and I tackled Jacob's bedroom, where all the moving boxes had been stacked when he'd moved in on May 31st. When he got home from work on Wednesday, he was thrilled to see all the extra floor space we'd created. We'd sorted out the boxes he wouldn't need anytime soon--like games, holiday decorations, and camera equipment--and arranged them neatly in his roomy walk-in closet. Now his bedroom looks much larger and he can focus on emptying the boxes filled with things he needs sooner rather than later.

One of the ongoing expenses of these trips is the cost of eating out. We would love to have most meals at Jacob's house, except he still doesn't have a working sink, which makes it difficult to cook and clean up effectively. So, on Wednesday, it was breakfast from Taco Bell, lunch at El Pollo Loco, and dinner at Applebees. On Thursday, we did breakfast sandwiches from Subway and lunch from Pita Jungle. Mark and I stopped for dinner at Dairy Queen in Globe on the way back home that evening.

The old broken garage hardware is still in place as the installer gets set up.

Mark and I had actually planned to leave on Thursday morning, but on Wednesday Jacob received a serendipitous phone call letting him know that the new garage door was ready to be installed the next morning. So we stayed until late afternoon. This was another of the major, costlier projects, to the tune of $1,936.00, so it was nice we were able to be there and see the work completed.

The installer has put in new framework and is ready to hang the opener.

The garage door installation was an all-day job, literally. The installer arrived around 9:45 and didn't finish until 4:00. He was happy to see that we'd already removed the old, busted garage door, which saved him some time and effort, but he still needed to rebuild the wooden framework around the opening to ensure a better seal before he began the actual installation.

The new door was assembled one slat at a time, starting at the bottom.

I popped out to take pictures once in a while, but it was hot outside and the work proceeded slowly, so we mostly worked inside while we waited. Everything appeared to be moving along smoothly, and when we returned at 4:00 from a credit union meeting, the installer met us with a tired smile, maintenance instructions, and papers to sign. It was finished and the door opened and closed properly. Hooray!

August 16, 2018: We have a new garage door!

It all seemed to be a success, until after Mark and I left at 4:45. About half an hour later, Jacob called to report that he'd parked his car in the garage but the new garage door wouldn't close. I told him it sounded like a problem with the sensors. So he tried pulling the car back out to the driveway, and he tried to operate the door using both the remote unit and the button inside the garage. Nothing worked. Mark pointed out that it was a good thing that the door didn't quit operating after Jacob parked in the garage, leaving his car trapped inside. True that! 

It opens and closes as it should. Finally.

The garage-door people came back on Friday morning and got everything operational again. Turns out it was, indeed, a sensor problem. And then, later that day, Jacob drove up to Lakeside for his recent four-day visit with us on the mountain.

It looks nice even when it's at rest. (Jacob at right, exiting the side door.)

Meanwhile, back on Thursday, Mark and I were having issues of our own. While we'd been driving around Mesa, Mark had noticed that my left headlight was burnt out. We decided we'd be okay as long as we got on the road by 4:00 so we'd be safely home before 7:30, before it gets full-dark. However, nothing ever seems to go as planned.

Mark tries to explain the peculiarities of my car to an inexperienced tech.

Earlier that day, Jacob had spoken to the loan officer at my credit union, with whom he'd been working to get pre-approved for purchasing the house. She'd suggested that we both come in to start the process. I figured it would be okay as long as we started by 2:00 so we could leave for home by 4:00. However, it went much longer than expected (we waited twenty minutes while she was in a meeting) and provided some unwelcome surprises (more on that at some future time in some future blog post), so we barely got back to Jacob's place at 4:00. Then we had to take care of garage-door business before we could gobble down the pita sandwiches we'd picked up at Pita Jungle, and then we still had to load our stuff into the car. It was nearing 5:00 by then.

How many cars require the use of a lift to replace a headlight?

By the time we were approaching the freeway on-ramp, it was clear that we wouldn't get home until after 8:00, thirty or more minutes after full darkness. I worry about elk on the highway after dark, so I made a last-minute decision to stop at Pep Boys and plead for a miracle. I explained to the guy in charge that we were headed home to the White Mountains, but I was too nervous to drive through elk country at dusk and after dark, when the elk are most likely to be grazing near the highway, without two working headlights. I'm so grateful that Pep Boys had an empty bay and he directed us to pull in immediately.

We were there quite a long time, due to the eccentricities of my car. Even the normally-simple task of replacing a headlight becomes a huge issue on a Chevy Traverse. The young tech assigned to help us was completely mystified. Mark tried to help (we'd faced this issue with the other headlight last year) and two other techs pitched in their advice. The job was finally accomplished after they put my car on a lift so the young man could reach the headlight from beneath and within.

The guy at the desk only charged me $18 for the headlamp, with no labor costs, so we gave the young technician a $10 tip. It was after 6:00 when we were finally on our way. With a brief dinner stop in Globe, it was exactly 9:30 when we safely pulled into the driveway of home, having navigated almost two hours of dark highways without incident. Always such a blessing to be back at home!

Under One Roof

Sunday, August 19, 2018 - Me and my three: Jacob, Dylan, and Sarah.

It has been a full week for our family. One week ago today, Mark and I drove down to Mesa to take care of a couple of projects at Jacob's place (I'll blog about that trip soon), and then we returned home on Thursday night. The next day, Friday, Jacob drove up to spend some time with us, and he just headed back home this afternoon.

Nothing makes my heart happier than having all my kids together, gathered beneath one roof. I'm so grateful that they feel the same way. Whenever Jacob is in town, they find every opportunity to spend time together. It makes for a busy, crazy, sometimes-messy-and-always-fun time, and I love every minute.

Saturday, August 18, 2018: All of my kids together: Jacob (in back), 

Sarah and Chris (center), and Dylan and Jake (front).

Of course, food is central to pretty much any family gathering, no matter what the culture of the group, so we all planned and prepared and enjoyed dinner together every night. We even went shopping together. We had to work around schedules sometimes, but we managed it.

Saturday's dinner: One-Pan Tacos.

Friday night we had grilled chicken thighs with bacon-wrapped cream-cheese-filled jalapenos.

Saturday night we had One-Pan Tacos, which is eaten by scooping it up with tortilla chips. High-quality toppings are a must, like my homemade guacamole chock-full of green onion, tomato, and chilies. The sour cream container and guacamole bowl were both scraped clean by the end of the meal. (Dang, I was hoping for some guacamole with my eggs the next morning!)

On Sunday morning, Sarah treated us to biscuits and gravy, along with hash browns and sausage links. That evening, she also provided our dinner of delicious Mexican chicken casserole, with potato chips and toasted onion dip on the side.

On Monday morning, Jacob made us breakfast burritos filled with scrambled eggs, diced chilies, cheese, and bacon. Yum! For dinner, we had grilled burgers with home-fried french fries.

Taco toppings: sour cream, homemade guacamole, and chipotle salsa.

Dessert is also an important consideration. If I were rich, I might suspect my kids were trying to kill me off with an overdose of carbs, but I just can't seem to say no. It was cheesecake on Saturday night, Jacob's homemade lemon bars on Sunday, and fresh-baked deep-dish brownies last night.

Every evening, a rousing game of Skip-Bo or Uno.

And every night ended with several games of Skip-Bo or Uno. My kids love to play a variety of games together. That's not really my bag, although I do sometimes join in. Mostly, I love to simply watch them and enjoy their goofy camaraderie. 

Jacob with the beard still on...

While we were grocery shopping, I even managed to convince Jacob to get a haircut, and he surprised me by shaving off his entire beard. I don't mind the beard at all, but I admit that I do prefer to see both my sons' gorgeous faces. Plus, his beard was getting to be pretty shaggy. (Still don't know why both of my blond boys' beards grow out red!)

...and then the beard was gone!

By the way, Jacob recently got braces on his teeth. He's never liked the spaces between his teeth, so he never shows them when he smiles for pictures. I'm hoping that, when the braces come off in a year and a half, we'll finally get to capture his big, beautiful smile on film!

Chris with Razz and Jacob with Lucky (both are Jacob's dogs).

We also spent some time this week watching movies and old TV shows together, and the kids took a long hike with their dogs (Sarah's Diego and Jacob's Razz and Lucky) along the Mogollon Rim Trail on Monday. It doesn't matter what we do, as long as it's together. As for his lodgings, Jacob took turns spending a night with everyone: one night at my house, one at Sarah and Chris's house, and two nights at Dylan and Jake's place.

Now that Jacob is headed back home, my house is quiet and calm and uncrowded again, which has its own kind of charm. However, nothing can compare to a house filled with family. I always miss them when they're gone.

Diego unleashes his inner beast at the edge of the Mogollon Rim.

August 20, 2018

What I Left Behind

Was that really fourteen months ago?

Yesterday was the first day of school, here in our little town. And it was the second time I wasn't a part of it, as I begin my second year of retirement.

Do I regret retiring three years before I'd originally planned? No. I always tell people this is the best gift I ever gave myself. It really is. And my retirement benefits are more generous than I'd expected, so there's no financial reason for regret.

Do I miss being a teacher? Actually, I'm often a little shocked at how little I miss it, how little I even think about it. Of course I cared about my students, and of course I found satisfaction in doing a job that I enjoyed and did well. I have no doubt that I would have missed teaching if I'd retired a few years earlier.

Now, however, the time had come. I knew without a single doubt that it was time. So I retired and never looked back.

After writing hundreds of IEPs over the years, here I'm directing my final IEP meeting! 

The principal is at the end of the table. Our counselor for grades 9-10 took the pic.

May 19, 2017

I don't miss the paperwork at all. As a special education teacher, our required documentation was endless and thankless. No matter how hard we strove to write each students' annual Individual Education Plan (IEP) to state and federal specifications, auditors always found some new thing we needed to fix. Including when, on two occasions, I showed the auditor their very own instructions on a sample page, using exactly the same words I'd used, because I'd followed their instructions to the letter. Maybe they didn't like my font choice?

When I began teaching regular freshman and sophomore English classes during my final three years, the paperwork became a true nightmare. Now, in addition to writing IEPs (each one, a minimum fourteen-page legal document, took at least two days to prepare), the mountains of essays and reports to be graded kept me after school until about 6:00 most days.

I don't miss the meetings, either. IEP meetings, which rarely lasted less than an hour and often much longer, could be emotionally-charged, stressful affairs. Everyone wants to help students succeed, but often the participants have different ideas of how to make it happen. It was my job to manage the meeting and direct all that energy to a productive conclusion. Even faculty meetings and district training meetings (and there were many) could be stressful, with administrators adding to our already strained burdens of expectation. Always, always, I was thinking how much better my time could be used in the classroom, actually preparing to do my job and more effectively serve my students.

I made my last assignment sheet for the final five weeks of school.

This one was for one of my resource English classes.

Our district's teachers returned to work last Wednesday, one week before the students' return, and I ran into two high school teachers at Walmart that same evening. Their shopping carts were filled with back-to-school supplies for their classrooms and students. We talked for quite a long time, as they expressed their concerns about problems that don't seem to have been resolved in the year since I left. Both confided that they were considering retiring in a year or two, for reasons very much like mine. And both are at least ten years younger than I am.

On the plus side, the high school is going back to a modified block schedule this year, which we teachers had been begging them to do for several years. In fact, if they'd done it a year or two ago, I'd probably have stayed longer. I worked under a block schedule, which we called a "four-period day," from 1992 to 2013. When it's done right, it's the most effective method to plan and deliver quality instruction. During those years, our test scores went up and our behavior problems went way down. The opposite happened when we returned to the six-period and then, worse, the seven-period schedule. Which heavily influenced my decision to retire when I did.

My fourth period class entertains themselves with balloons before lunch.

Then there are the students. Do I miss them? There are moments, of course. Brief moments. To be honest, I was never that teacher who cried on the last day of school, or even at graduation (and I knew a lot of those teachers). I was never that teacher who couldn't wait for school to start, to fall in love with a new batch of kids. I have things I'm sentimental about, but a classroom full of teens was never really one of them.

A student took this with my cell phone at the end of seventh period.

Don't get me wrong. I sincerely liked my students, even the difficult ones. Teens are always interesting, full of energy and surprises, finding drama in the most mundane of events. There's never a dull moment with teenagers around. The absolute best part of my career was the time I spent interacting with my students. 

My teaching style involves a lot of class discussion. Not lecture, mind you. Students' brains shut down the instant a lecture begins. On the other hand, in the midst of the give-and-take of true discussion, where everyone feels free to contribute, their young minds come alive and everyone learns from sharing, especially me.

My long-suffering aide, Joe, works with kids in fifth period, right after lunch.

Joe decided to retire the same time as I did, after five years in my classroom.

During the final semester of my career, I had a student teacher for the very first time. Mr. V was in his forties and had decided to change careers. It was fun to have this new experience and watch him as he developed his skills in classroom management and lesson planning and delivery. He was a perfect fit and, in fact, he was hired to be my replacement (I advocated heavily for his hiring).

However, the surprising thing to me as his supervising teacher was how much I missed being up there with the students, interacting with them, instead of watching from the back of the room. When he finished his term with me and left us to attend to his college graduation, I truly enjoyed being back in charge of those discussions for the last few weeks.

Assignment: design a "movie poster" for the novel The Outsiders.

My second-favorite teaching method involves creative expression, probably largely due to my own love of various art forms. During the years of the "four-period day," there was plenty of time to incorporate curriculum-enhancing creative activities on a daily basis. It was much harder to fit it into a 47-minute class period on a regular basis, but I kept trying!

Even stick-figures can be effective: Ponyboy gets his head dunked.

I've posted pictures of my students' artwork over the years. This particular assignment was the final creative, art-based assignment of my career. The kids did not disappoint!

A little anime emphasizes the Socs versus the Greasers.

There were so many items I'd have loved to bring home with me upon retirement but, frankly, where would I put it all? So, instead, I took a lot of pictures and then threw things in the trash, leaving a clean slate for Mr. V. I'll always have the memories.

I liked expressing my artistic side, too. I made this scene from The Hobbit.

Another scene I made from The Hobbit: Bilbo Baggins and Gollum.

And then there were the going-away cards. I received some wonderful sentiments from fellow teachers, but these warm wishes from a few students were particularly sweet and often unintentionally humorous. A few of them even address my frustrations, especially the growing problem of disrespect in the classroom by a handful of kids who seemed determined to disrupt the learning process. 

Problem students are hardly a new phenomenon, but during those last two years (coinciding with the installation of a new administration) the tenor of the classroom environment underwent a dramatic change. Many of us felt unsupported in student discipline, a problem that the difficult kids soon picked up on. And another reason for my decision to retire.

You might notice the appearance of alien spaceships in a couple of drawings. Back in the 1990s, I also taught earth science (along with general math and English). During our astronomy unit, we'd talk about the likelihood of life on other planets. That, of course, would lead to a discussion about UFO sightings here on earth. During that time, I had a weird UFO experience of my own, which I shared with the students. One student memorialized it with a sketch (below), which I'd saved for all those years.

During the remaining years of my teaching career, even when I hadn't taught earth science in a decade or more, it became an annual "thing" for the students in pretty much every class to ask me, "Mrs. Carter, do you believe in aliens?" We'd all laugh, talk about it for a few minutes, and then they'd insist I tell my story again. It was the UFO story that never died.

This sketch was done by a student way back in the 1990s, after

I'd shared my experience with a UFO on a drive home from Mesa.

I'll always have amazing memories of thirty-seven years in the classroom. And no regrets, not one. But now it's my time. My time to do the things I put off while I worked and raised a family. My time to explore new interests and take care of myself. And I don't regret that, either!