Today
This morning I went on a field trip with my son's third grade class. We went to a place called Scratch Patch. This is a wonderful place filled with interesting colorful abstract art. And rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.
Well, I should probably say minerals. The floors were covered with beautiful shiny tumbled almost gem-like minerals from South Africa. This tiny little shop is run by a woman from South Africa. She had the most amazing glorious opal earrings on, and had a lovely accent.
Once the kids had taken off their coats and shoes, they went into a larger room. There were stepping stones all around the borders of the room. The lady (named Amanda) told them about the various different kinds of stones, how to identify them, showed how some of them looked, passing around odd and intriguing rocks with unpronounceable names. She told them several times not to drop the rocks. Dropping them could chip or break them into very sharp chips which would be highly uncomfortable for sock feet. Then she let them get on hands and knees and start looking through the rocks on the floor to see what they could recognize. The kids had small colorful baskets that they could keep their collection in. They were allowed to take home a small bag full of these rainbow colored rocks.
I would have liked to do this, but not with 27 kids and 5 parents hanging around. These rooms were tiny, small, itsy-bitsy. It was very noisy and very crowded. I would want to scoop the rocks away so I didn't have to sit on them. I would want lots of time, space, and quiet, and I would want to keep asking Amanda about rocks that I had found. I love these kinds of rocks and I know several of them by sight.
In the meantime, we adults have taken off our coats and shoes. Our feet are freezing. Stepping on the granite stepping stones hurts, and they're cold too. Stepping on the tumbled rocks is a different kind of pain, much worse. By the time we leave my feet are numb and tingling. My shoes were on the top shelf above a baseboard heater, so my shoes were toasty warm. Thank goodness. My feet started to thaw out on the walk to the Greenlake Community Center.
The kids played on the playground, had lunch inside the Center, then played in the gym. Totally echoing loud shrieking playing in the gym. I did a lot of standing and walking and walking and standing. By the time I got home I ached. My feet were still cold. I was exhausted. I couldn't think. I played some non-intellectual computer games. I ended up taking a nap.
I think I might be too old for grade school field trips.
This afternoon I took my son to a doctor's appointment in Bothell. When the kids in Sam's group took off after their teacher, the room settled down. Other moms sat and read, texted or crocheted. I sat in a comfy leather chair, picked up my tea and my book and started to read.
The room was quiet. The large aquarium to my left burbled. The heater to my right hummed. It looked like a small fireplace, with gas-like flames, but no chimney. It gave off a gentle heat. I faced a glass wall that looked onto a deck. It held an large inflatable Thomas the Tank engine that was slightly deflated. There were soft murmurs of conversation from the office around the corner.
Three of the walls were painted a soft green. The wall to my right was a stone brick wall, with slightly projecting bricks here and there. There is a large sign that you see as you enter this room that always makes me smile. It says Please Don't Allow Your Children to Climb the Walls.
It was very peaceful. Although the book I was reading was excellent, I paused every now and then to look up, look around, and relax more. I was happy, warm, comfortable, soothed by ibuprofen. I was reading a new book and drinking Peach Passion tea I'd brought from home.
My feet still tingled and ached a bit. On the way home the heater was on full blast on my feet. They felt warm only on the outside, still cold and tingly inside. When we got home and I started walking around, I finally felt that the heat on the outside was finally moving inside. Aaaahhh.
What a day.
Well, I should probably say minerals. The floors were covered with beautiful shiny tumbled almost gem-like minerals from South Africa. This tiny little shop is run by a woman from South Africa. She had the most amazing glorious opal earrings on, and had a lovely accent.
Once the kids had taken off their coats and shoes, they went into a larger room. There were stepping stones all around the borders of the room. The lady (named Amanda) told them about the various different kinds of stones, how to identify them, showed how some of them looked, passing around odd and intriguing rocks with unpronounceable names. She told them several times not to drop the rocks. Dropping them could chip or break them into very sharp chips which would be highly uncomfortable for sock feet. Then she let them get on hands and knees and start looking through the rocks on the floor to see what they could recognize. The kids had small colorful baskets that they could keep their collection in. They were allowed to take home a small bag full of these rainbow colored rocks.
I would have liked to do this, but not with 27 kids and 5 parents hanging around. These rooms were tiny, small, itsy-bitsy. It was very noisy and very crowded. I would want to scoop the rocks away so I didn't have to sit on them. I would want lots of time, space, and quiet, and I would want to keep asking Amanda about rocks that I had found. I love these kinds of rocks and I know several of them by sight.
In the meantime, we adults have taken off our coats and shoes. Our feet are freezing. Stepping on the granite stepping stones hurts, and they're cold too. Stepping on the tumbled rocks is a different kind of pain, much worse. By the time we leave my feet are numb and tingling. My shoes were on the top shelf above a baseboard heater, so my shoes were toasty warm. Thank goodness. My feet started to thaw out on the walk to the Greenlake Community Center.
The kids played on the playground, had lunch inside the Center, then played in the gym. Totally echoing loud shrieking playing in the gym. I did a lot of standing and walking and walking and standing. By the time I got home I ached. My feet were still cold. I was exhausted. I couldn't think. I played some non-intellectual computer games. I ended up taking a nap.
I think I might be too old for grade school field trips.
This afternoon I took my son to a doctor's appointment in Bothell. When the kids in Sam's group took off after their teacher, the room settled down. Other moms sat and read, texted or crocheted. I sat in a comfy leather chair, picked up my tea and my book and started to read.
The room was quiet. The large aquarium to my left burbled. The heater to my right hummed. It looked like a small fireplace, with gas-like flames, but no chimney. It gave off a gentle heat. I faced a glass wall that looked onto a deck. It held an large inflatable Thomas the Tank engine that was slightly deflated. There were soft murmurs of conversation from the office around the corner.
Three of the walls were painted a soft green. The wall to my right was a stone brick wall, with slightly projecting bricks here and there. There is a large sign that you see as you enter this room that always makes me smile. It says Please Don't Allow Your Children to Climb the Walls.
It was very peaceful. Although the book I was reading was excellent, I paused every now and then to look up, look around, and relax more. I was happy, warm, comfortable, soothed by ibuprofen. I was reading a new book and drinking Peach Passion tea I'd brought from home.
My feet still tingled and ached a bit. On the way home the heater was on full blast on my feet. They felt warm only on the outside, still cold and tingly inside. When we got home and I started walking around, I finally felt that the heat on the outside was finally moving inside. Aaaahhh.
What a day.