Life in Boots

In order to fully appreciate all that life in rural Alaska has to offer, it is essential to have the proper footwear. Boots, people, are one of the keys to happiness here. Whether it's muck boots, warm winter boots, or wellies, the right pair can make or break an experience. Ice cleats are of the utmost importance for the slickest days.

So, imagine my dismay when all of our snow melted this past week and we returned to mud and puddles everywhere. It was 41 degrees last Friday, and, unfortunately, my Bogs have holes in them. This has meant some wet feet now and then, but I don't mind. In fact, it seems to bother others more than me. We're back to the mid-20s, but still snow is nowhere to be found.

Marshall students, here for a volleyball tournament a few weeks ago, said, "So NATIVE you are!" when they saw that I'd put duck tape over the holes. (Don't judge; one of my favorite coaches instilled in me the importance of duck tape. Or is it duct tape? I never can remember.) My friends encouraged me to get new ones, and I brushed it off, saying that winter was almost here and once it snowed, I wouldn't need muck boots until April!

The sad part is that I was in Anchorage for the majority of the month of November. You'd think I would find the time to go purchase some decent rain or muck boots. Nope!

Oops. Joke's on me! Here we are, December 10th, and here's what I've got in my mud room...

My trusty bogs. They're not as tall as they should be, but they've served
me well. At this point, a friend has volunteered to gorilla glue them for me.
Yes!

My Kamiks, recommended by a student who knows my clumsiness and that
I'm hard on shoes. So warm and comfy. Way too warm for the current weather! 

The ice cleats. No, it's not quite wise to have white cleats up here, but hey,
they're easy to put on and take off, and they've lasted two whole winters!
The $13 were totally worth it. May they last three winters more!

I remember ordering those cleats a couple years ago; the company called to make sure I lived where I did before they sent them because they didn't trust my partially made-up address.

We got to chatting, and he asks, "Hey, I'm sure it's a long shot, but I have a friend named Mary teaching up there somewhere...that's not near you, is it?"

My response? "Actually, yes, it's where I am, and I know Mary, too - she's my roommate!"

The poor guy didn't believe me until I put Mary on the phone. This would be the first of many occurrences proving that Alaska is just one big small town, and a reason I love it here. If you talk to someone long enough, you're almost sure to find a connection.

Coming back from the school the other day, I ran into these two fellows running their toy snow-go's through the puddles. I love how they make their own fun, and it reminded me of the trouble my brothers, neighborhood friends and I often found ourselves in making mud pies and pots and insisting that they be treasured inside the house as well, having 'who can kill the most box elder bugs with his hands' contests, playing in the flooded ditches, playing night games...ah, the memories!

Just over two weeks until Christmas...here's hoping I'm in snow boots by then!

Cheers!

Blessed

     Hi, all!

     As usual, time as flown and here it is, December, the semester almost over. It's been an eventful few months for our village and our school district. As many of you know, I've transferred downriver to Mountain Village, where I teach in the same capacity: 7-12 grade sciences. We've gone from a levelized system to a more traditional credit-based one where students receive a grade of A-F. Overall, it has been a greatly involved but wholly worthwhile change.

A beautiful fall view of my new home, Mountain Village, from the top of Cupcake.

Surrounding area.

I'm a fan of the winding side sloughs of the river. Following those bumps on the horizon will get you to three other villages in our district, or so I'm told. 

     The kids seem to be happier overall this year. One former Marshall student even said to me, "The work is harder, but I do more, and my grades are better than last year. It's good now." (There was a fancy conversion from levels passed to a GPA, so kids did get some kind of a grade at some point.) Another girl came to me with a thank you letter she'd written on behalf of the volleyball team to one of their sponsors. She said, "I just thought we should do this, because they helped us so much. Does it look okay?" In several ways, kids deserve more credit than we give them.

A 7th and an 8th grader wanted to help me get water from
the pump house. Later, they took me on a walk down by
the beach.

     Five minutes into my first city league basketball game this year, I managed to pop my medial meniscus, or "shred" it, according to the surgeon. There was no foul play; only my two feet and the floor were involved. Many thanks to Brittnay and Sam, who literally carried and carted me around after it happened!

     That, combined with the opportunity to speak at the Bilingual and Multicultural Education Equity Conference in late November, caused me to be out of my classroom for the majority of November - twice for over a week each time. Add in Thanksgiving week, and I taught a whopping 7.5 days that month! It was too few for me.

No one can say we don't get VIP treatment out here:
ERA workers wheeled me into the airport as I went into
Anchorage for surgery the following day. 

     I worried and felt guilty about being away from "my" kids; I've discovered this fall that I really do love this job and didn't want to leave them for that long. (This is a good sign, right?) I suppose that's a silly sentimental teacher thing to think, but it's true. Plus, how one successfully plans for 7 days of classroom work without much guidance that doesn't just include books and worksheets, yet still provides learning and keeps them on the newly adopted curricular map... well, you get the picture. It is neither fun nor easy.

Six days post surgery, Jamie (right), a 5th Grade teacher, and I spoke at the
 BMEEC about how using Constructing Meaning has helped our students.
I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

Kids hard at work building circuits. Once they got them done, they asked if
they could build more complicated ones. Sure, why not? I'm sure Grandpa Al
would do a much better job than I did!

     I needn't have worried. The kids worked so hard on their projects while I was gone. When I returned, kids rushed to see if I was really back, shouted "HI, WELCOME BACK, STOTZ!" and ran off. That was cute, but when class actually started, they were more concerned about showing me their work, making sure things were correct, and asking if they could add certain elements of creativity. It really was adorable and a bit unexpected.

     I'm sure many of you have heard about the tragedy of the recent plane crash bound for Mountain Village. It has affected all of us, and its timing is what inspired me to write tonight. Even with all the (mostly good) stress of this school year, I feel truly blessed to be where I am, with the job I have, with a bum knee and generous friends who continue to take care of me in that regard, with an iffy water situation, working with some pretty humble people who do awesome things for our students. Sometimes, one just needs to acknowledge those blessings. Take 10 seconds to consider your own blessings. Heck, take 20. What are they? Don't you feel better now? What if we all started our days that way?

     I do have a request of you. I'm trying to figure out what this blog is or should be. Do you like the stories and summaries? Want more pictures and less journal-like yammering and reflection? Would you rather I post about the realities - both good and bad, funny and sad - of teaching? Let me know. I think sometimes I put off writing because I'm not sure what y'all want to hear. Feel free to email me or leave a comment below.

     I hope this finds you all warm and preparing for the holiday season, whatever that means to you.

     'Tis the season...to know that you are blessed.

Coast Trip

Never had I ever predicted that I'd be in full snow gear on a Labor Day weekend. So here's how that came to happen...

A teacher friend, Jamie, asked if I'd want to go to the coast, meaning the Bering Sea, over Labor Day weekend. We'd leave Friday night and get back Sunday, having time to recuperate and prepare for the week on Monday.

Matt and Sarah, tour guides extraordinaire.

Well, sure, I'm game for that. It would be foolish to turn down an opportunity to travel the Yukon by speedboat to the Bering Sea! We would be looking for a seal or possibly a whale to harvest and bring back to the village as a winter supply of meat and oil. Sarah, one of our tour guides, told us, "if I can just get one or the other, my family will be set for winter supplies."






We (1st Grade Teacher Courtney, 5th Grade Teacher Jamie, our tour guides Matt and Sarah Peterson, our helper/boat hand/coffee enthusiast/generally awesome survivalist Amos, and myself) got our gear ready and left Mountain Village about 7:00 pm or so. In case you're wondering, "full winter gear" means snow pants or Carhartt overalls, one or two pairs of thick socks, heavy muck boots, long underwear, a fleece, a winter coat, a hat, and mittens. Luckily, it's the rainy season, so a raincoat was worn over all of that as well, topped off with a life jacket. One never feels quite so attractive out here as when we are decked out for the weather. But hey, warmth and dryness while on a boat are perks!

Jamie, myself, and Courtney all bundled up with Sarah goofing off behind us.

We arrived in Kotlik, a village very near to the coast, about 11:00 pm. A fellow teacher from the district, Jackie, took us in and let us sleep on her living room floor. She even rearranged her sleeping children to do this for us. She and her husband are saints!

Arriving in Kotlik.

After coffee with another teacher and visiting the store the next morning (it's a rule that you haven't really been to a village until you've visited the store), we set off again for the coast. We stopped at an established fish camp, grateful for a chance to warm up, eat, and laze around. It was here that I got to use my first honeybucket! If you're not sure what that is, it's pretty much a bucket with a tiny toilet seat on top. So fancy!

Our digs. Sarah made sure that Amos made sure it was cozy for us. A direct
quote from her to him: "Amos, you make sure these ladies are warm!"
And then, grinning mischievously, "I know you know how to keep the
 ladies HOT!" Poor Amos. He endured so much teasing this trip, but we were
 grateful to have him. 

Jamie and Courtney get their bearings. Some of our students had recently
been here for a tribal coast trip, and we found their names all over the walls.
We had a guest, mouse Gus-Gus, who was a fan of Courtney. Or maybe we
were his guests?

Our supplies for the weekend.

Jamie and I didn't plan our awesome supper of chili with
hot dogs, but it was scrumptious!

We spent Saturday and Sunday boating around, setting nets, and tootling around the Bering Sea trying to spot a whale or seal. Alas, we saw none, but it was such a cool experience. Amos shot a couple geese. A few salmon did catch in the nets, and we had a fine meal before taking off to return to Mountain. Sarah kept encouraging us to "eat more fish, more! It will keep you warm when we travel." Well, I'm not about to ignore advice from a Native Alaskan, so I helped myself to probably 3 servings. She's right; I wasn't cold at all!

Matt set the net in hopes of snagging a whale.

Sarah overlooks the Bering Sea.

Whale remains. That's my foot.

I had to check its teeth. Jamie wasn't happy when I tried to touch her after doing
so. I'm not sure why she's so squeamish - she is a 5th grade teacher, after all! 

Amos keeps an eye out for possible moose or birds. He also uttered my
favorite quote of the weekend to Jamie: "You put sugar and creamer in
your coffee?! That ain't coffee, that's a milkshake! Blegh!"
I couldn't agree more.

As per usual in rural Alaska during the fall, it rained on the way back. It was a bit rough returning, as we were traveling upriver in addition to the rain. We got back about 10:00 Sunday night, just as it was getting dark. A tiring yet invigorating trip, I hope to get to do it again next year!

Goodbye to Marshall

This year, saying goodbye to Marshall was hard. Prior to leaving, my teacher friends here had a surprise going away party for me, largely organized by Shelly, Josh's wife. She told me we'd be taking pictures and doing glamour shots, which she knew would be the only way I would attempt to do my hair. Sneaky lady...I'm glad she did!

Josh and Shelly's adorable twins, my buddies Logan and Jack.

Leah, myself, and Shelly. I will miss my Alaskan sisters so much!

We were all in tears at the airport the day that the families Cunningham and Gaylord left. 

Saying goodbye to Josh, my joking buddy who saved me many a time,
was what broke me. He messed up my decision not to cry.

I even got a snuggle from Josh and Shelly's littlest, Wyatt.

That night, I took a walk with Audrey and Howie, who will be returning to their village of Emmonak. Here are some shots of my last night in Marshall at about 11:15 pm.

The still frozen river.

Marshall School from the southeast.

Last sunset view from my classroom.

The next morning, May 19th, I awoke to find a fresh but light blanket of snow. For a minute I worried that I'd dreamed the past couple months and that it was actually still March!

Next year I will be in Mountain Village in the same capacity. I've already found out that a wonderful teacher from North Carolina has replaced me, so I'm glad to leave my kids in her capable hands. My time in Marshall was an unforgettable experience, one I'm so very grateful to have had. Mountain Village is sure to bring new friends and continued mischief. Thank you all for your support! It wouldn't have been the same without your kind words and prayers.

Another Oregon Adventure

During the third week of April, I had the privilege of going to Oregon to get re-certified in Constructing Meaning for next school year. I'll be training the new secondary teachers in the fall at some sort of district orientation. I made some great networking contacts and, yet again, met some fascinating people along the way.

It all started Friday night, April 19th. I boarded my flight from Bethel to Anchorage, and was sitting there reading Round Ireland With A Fridge by Tony Hawks. I overheard Jim, the flight attendant, chatting with a man behind me about his recent trip to New York, where he saw Bette Midler in a one-woman show on Broadway. I piped up, telling Jim how jealous of his trip I was and inquired a bit more about the other shows he'd seen. At this point, he noticed the title of my book and alerted Bruce, another passenger.

"Look at what she's reading, Bruce! Miss, this man's wife is from Ireland!"

"No kidding? Well, I'm going to Ireland at the end of May. Got any tips for me?"

Well, of course he did. He gave me some great advice for my itinerary. As Jim went by, I ordered my red wine, and as I tried to pay for it, he scoffed and shooed away my card. Well, I'm not one to argue, so I happily sipped as I read about Tony's struggle to hitchhike around Ireland with a fridge. (You really must check out this book - though I will say this: you will burst out laughing, embarrassingly so, so if you're uncomfortable in this possibility, be forewarned of reading it in a public place. However, I've found that doing so leads to some of the best conversations.)

At this point a 22ish looking young woman, who I later learned was named Lillian, was seated right behind me. She loudly inquired, "Are you single?"

I had no idea that she was talking to me until she tapped on my shoulder and repeated her question.

"Are you single?"

I didn't quite know how to respond. "Yes...?" I wasn't sure if this was a poll or a proposition. 

"That's awesome!! Have fun flirting with the men in Ireland then!" And she extended her hand over my seat in a gesture known as the fist-bump. I didn't want to make the situation any more awkward than it already was, so I reluctantly returned it. 

Toward the end of the flight, I heard another question, or rather a command, from right behind me.

"Hey look at this!"

Again, the tap on my shoulder, and, "Hey, look at this!"

I turned to see an electronic cigarette. "Ever seen one of these?!" She seemed so excited.

"Yes, I have." I figured honesty was the best policy here. 

Lillian seemed even more excited now. "Kudos for people who need it right? Yeah, put it there!" And another offer for a fist-bump over my seat. I'd already fist-bumped her once, so clearly I couldn't avoid it now. I found myself wondering how I had engaged in two fist-bumps within such a limited timeframe. Do I project an aura of one who fist-bumps? Before now, I'd never thought so.

After the flight, Bruce, a legal consultant who lives in Seattle, and I ended up chatting in the Alaska Airlines Boardroom. We enjoyed some more conversation about rural Alaska and Ireland and then went on our separate ways. All told, I somehow managed to drink about a bottle of wine at no cost, all because I'm a chatterbox.

I got to Portland early on Saturday morning and went to the house of my fabulous Aunt Susan. My mom Julie flew in later that morning, and we began what would be an excellent ladies' week: massages, restaurants, facials, shopping, movies, and all things indulgent that are required during these types of occasions. My favorite of all? Walking on trails with towering trees and greenery all around us. I'm sorry for the lack of pictures, but my camera died. Oops.

My CM training was a fantastic experience; I networked with some truly talented teachers and got to tour two high schools in the Portland area that utilize the CM framework. I even met a woman who seemed interested in my project for my Master's degree, and she offered to help me crunch numbers and be a sounding board for it. I have a feeling I've stumbled onto another great resource and mentor.

My return to Marshall was uneventful. The last month of school was a whirlwind, as it always is. My year ended with the opportunity to do some curriculum mapping in Mountain Village at the district office, another adventure and story for another time. I'll try to detail it and any Ireland adventures in the weeks to come!

Ciao!

Grateful Smeagol I Am

"Stotz, you look like Smeagol today!" yelled out Bryan, one of my more hilarious students, this past week.

Not surprised, I asked "Do I really look that haggard today? Is it my beady eyes or my pale skin?"

"No, your hair. You're Smeagol!"

At this I took a wee bit of offense. I said, "Come on, Smeagol has maybe four hairs smeared across his head - I have way more than that!"

We all had a good laugh and got on with class. That night, I went home and found my first gray hair. Surprised? No. Annoyed? Yes. I have sworn up and down that they will not give me gray hair.

If you're not familiar with who Smeagol is, he's also known as Gollum, a character from the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and here's a picture of him...

Photo credit: lotr.wikia.com. 

Also, if you're not familiar with how a teacher feels at the end of the day, especially after teaching middle schoolers, then this picture pretty much sums it up. I imagine it's also how some parents feel at the end of the day; you're trying your darndest to keep a smile on your face, but you feel haggard, mentally emaciated, and strung out. I do, anyway. Maybe it's because I'm still a new teacher and not yet a parent.

Just prior to this little conversation in class, I had run into Linda, a parent of a different student while I was at the store. She said, "Oh, Susan, so pale you are!! You need to go manaqing!" (Manaqing, as you may recall, is ice fishing). 

I told her, "I know, I know! Tell the principal that I need to go!"

Well, yesterday, Friday, we went out on our first manaqing trip of the year. Linda was in the school and asked, "You go manaq?"

I told her yes, and she responded, "Oh GOOOD!! Make sure you take your hat and sunglasses off, you don't want raccoon eyes!" I did as I was told, but had to cave and wear my sunglasses now and then to avoid snow blindness.

Bryan ended up driving me out to Kayakutaq, about a half-hour snow machine ride northeast-ish of the village. Throughout the trip, students kept asking if I was excited to "get brown." Clearly, my paleness is something that concerns them.

After being out all day and catching zero fish, I came home totally relaxed and drunk on sunshine with blazing pink cheeks and a Rudolph nose, plus some bloodshot eyes to go along with it. 

I really do look like Smeagol today. Darn kids are prophetic!

But that's OK, because Shelly just brought me a gluten-free pizza her husband Josh made for me for girls' night, so life is great!

See, I'm Smeagol with a Rudolph nose. At least I'm a happy one!

Thanks for reading!

Snow Snow Snow...and Changes

This post is nearing three weeks in the making. It's been pretty busy around here lately. Last weekend we unexpectedly ended up hosting the Junior High Upriver Basketball Tournament for both the boys and girls. We hosted eight teams; they arrived Thursday afternoon - we found out about it on Wednesday. Everything went fairly smoothly - whew!

Prior to the tournament, it had been snowing like crazy with high winds. See the effects below:

There are several peaks and valleys to cross going to
 and from school. Here, I'm venturing back home.

Our path is pretty treacherous. When coming to school I
usually just point my feet straight down that last snow peak
and hope for the best. It's my way of getting a tiny bit of
skiing in every day. Recently, Mary visited and quipped,
"Oh, good, I see your path to school has gotten hillier."

This is supposed to show you how high
 the drifts are. The van in the background
 was snowed in for a while.

This is why the van was snowed in. See the cord running to the truck hiding
on the other side of this drift?

The van, resting. Now, the van is in use and the
truck is in the shop. 

Joe dug out stairs for us. You can see to the left
where I still skied down. These are long gone now.

March 20th - the first day of spring! Light and fluffy snow came down on
and off all day - perfect time to do taxes with some hot cocoa.

Daily, I wonder if I'll be impaled by the deadly
icicles that loom overhead at the teacher housing. 

As of 9:20 am, March 21st, this is our playground. Happy Spring to us!

As I write this, I'm waiting for parent teacher conferences to begin. I am both looking forward to getting them done with and also dreading them, but for the same reason: I've decided that this is my last year at this site. Next year, I am transferring downriver to another village in the same district. I've told all the kids, and I'm hoping some of them have told their parents because I am not going to enjoy repeatedly informing parents that I'm not returning.

I nearly gave up teaching completely this spring. I see now why it's hard to retain teachers anywhere - this job is hard enough without having to please parents, state testing organizations, and whoever all else, as well as teach behavior. Actual learning feels like a bonus to the day. I was all set to find a beach, figure out how to bead jewelry to sell and give that a shot for a while. However, I decided that maybe I should try another site before jumping ship completely.

I'm comforted by this move in that I was invited by the administration and teachers of the other site to transfer there, their attendance is higher, and the community is warmer (figuratively, not literally. Don't get too excited!). Also, I can make a fresh start in a place where I understand the culture better and know what I'm facing with two years of experience. A mentor of mine, whom I ran into at the science fair (where my two girls got second in display!) told me never to miss an opportunity to reinvent myself. His statement stuck with me, especially since he had my job at my current site a few years ago, and said that it's not a place that fosters growth. I've decided that he also may have meant that this place might make me tough, but it won't help me to thrive professionally. With that in mind, I made the move.

It will be so hard to leave the friends I've made here amongst the staff, the parents, and the students. It breaks my heart that I won't have a few certain students next year, or that Leah and Shelly and I will not be able to have girls' night anymore. Or that Shelly's husband Josh, who is like my brother, and I won't be able to joke with, bug, and support each other throughout the day like we've done this year. Or that Debbie, the secretary, will no longer make fun of my running around like crazy in the mornings and laugh her hysterical laughter. I can only pray that a better teacher replaces me, and that better things are ahead. I have a feeling that they are, as well as new challenges.

With that, I must prepare for conferences.

Happy Spring everyone!

Academic Decathlon

So this year I had the pleasure of chaperoning the Academic Decathlon team again. It was a fun time. Last year we ended up getting stuck in St. Mary's and stayed the night in Pitkas Point, where we slept on gym mats in the kindergarden room. Fun times! Flights were smooth this year, however, so we got home on schedule.

Of course things got off to a rocky start - the coach did not make it into Anchorage until 9:00 pm, so I attended the coach's meeting in her place. Once things got rolling, however, it was such a fun week in the city with basically the same group of kids as last year. Being around teens who consistently held open doors, said 'please' and 'thank you' for the littlest things, and who were genuinely curious about their surroundings was quite refreshing. I entertained all sorts of curious questions and hilarious statements. Here are just a few:

• "Do those solar panels make all the electricity for that building?"-Jason
• "How does a credit card work?" Rebekah asked. I explained to her how they typically operate. She responded, "Oh, so it's a good thing I didn't get one back at that one store then huh?" Yikes.
• "Is that sea urchin poisonous? Can he poke you and you go (makes a dead face)?" -Ellis
• "Is this edible?" (One student pointing to red cabbage, another to arugula)
• "It's okay to cry...it means you have a sensitive heart."-Isaac (can you tell he is the eldest of 6?)
• "I'm next to a button, what did you expect me to do?" - Isaac, after pressing at least 3 other floors' buttons in the elevator when we all just wanted to get downstairs on time.
• "Maaan, Aca Deca is better than all the sports!" - Serena

We took them for sushi, to the mall, Moose's Tooth pizza, and did a campus tour of Alaska Pacific University, ending with the chance to touch an octopus! Check it out:

View from APU student center. 

"I wanna make electricity!" (Note the
red and white signage where the wheel
should be.)

Climbing wall.

Clyde posing for us. 

Sea anemone - quite the hit!

To eat, the octopus' tongue drills through the shell of its prey. You can
just barely see it when held up to the light.

Yep, I'm touching an octopus! Her name is Dena (pronounced Day-na).

After our tour of APU, we had the banquet back at the hotel. Here are a few shots of that.

"Is this edible?" - the team captain, Chantel.

Jace was quite skeptical as he sampled the greens.

We started home on Sunday. At the airport in St. Mary's, the students started to notice my ancient electronics: an MP3 player and a new flip phone because my smart phone has become a dumb phone, and there ain't nobody got time for that! I am quite proud of being from last century, thankyouverymuch. However, it does make for tricky traveling, as I must pack various chargers and wires and cords and such. Do you remember travel before electronics? Maybe a book and your walkman with batteries and a few tapes or CDs? Those were the days.

Spending as much time as I do in airports, I have realized that people would rather communicate with their beloved phone than strike up a conversation with a soul seated nearby. I find this sad, because those souls often have some pretty good stories that you might not get the chance to hear ever again. Your phone, however, likely won't run off. Try it next time you're out - look up and smile at someone! It's kinda fun; you never know what you're gonna get out of the situation.

I'm also convinced that our ears will forever be assaulted by the loud and obnoxious ringtones and games of people who've forgotten or see no need to silence their phones in public places. It is times like these that I am truly disappointed that I cannot smack some people upside the head, an urge brought on simply because of the startle from said sudden racket. Surprisingly, teens are not the worst offenders in this area, according to my very scientific airport people-watching observations.

"What century are you from?" implored
a mystified Coleen, as she informed me
that her phone "does all of that" - meaning
that it calls/texts, takes photos, has music...
"1857," I replied.

Some of us in our snow gear, part of the team waits at St. Mary's airport: From
L-R, we have Chantel, Serena, Jason, myself, Coleen, and Irene.  The rest of the
team did not leave Anchorage until 2:00; they were routed differently. 

My view on the way back to Marshall in a little 207.

See the moose? The pilot dipped sideways so we could see better.

From the plane.

An aerial view of Marshall. 

When we got back, my neighbor Howie was building this igloo. He said he'd never done it before and just wanted to give it a try. I promptly claimed it. 

The sunset over our slough of the Yukon after a full, fun day.

So that's my latest adventure. I'm now back to tutoring, trying to catch up with an online class, and am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed. Thanks for reading!