Gratitude

It’s just over two months since my last ‘proper’ blog post.  I often ask myself, “Why bother?”  My stats make pretty poor reading and, with so many other poetry bloggers out there doing it far better/offering readers something a little different – well, why bother?

I don’t think this blog post is about poetry.

I’m tired.  Bone-weary and brain-fogged.  I don’t sleep as well as I used to.  I get too many headaches (like the one I have now).  It’s the end of the teaching year but not the end of my To Do list.  I frequently drive to work wondering if mind and body will allow me to carry on till Teachers’ Pension-able age.  I find it much harder to multi-task these days.  I make mistakes; stupid mistakes.  Even the much-put-upon staff room photocopier does it better.

This isn’t about poetry.

What happened to the last twenty-odd years?  I woke up last January and found myself in my fifties – well into my fifties.  My hip said, “Wake up and smell the coffee,” or summat like that.

This isn’t about poetry.
It’s the chinks of light:
-a Thank You message in a card from my Reading Recovery Lead Teacher (few words, much praise and encouragement – it made me cry)
-the SMT member who said the children’s Summer Read books I’d displayed on tables in the hall looked “really good” (There were lots. There was me)
-the teacher and her class who chorused “thank you” as they left, clutching their choices
-the boy whose eyes lit up as he pounced on a Science Q & A book
-this afternoon’s early (below-target) reader who ‘made it sound like a story,’ grinned at me as she turned each page and volunteered her first full-sentence comments about the story (phonics ain’t the only tool, Minister)
this poem, on Anthony Wilson’s blog – on why we do it – the because-ofs and the in-spite-ofs (oh, yes, there are lots of the latter, Minister)

And, on gratitude, here’s Josephine Corcoran’s Seven/Seven thoughts.

 

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