The second year just isn't the first-- it's just the first second year

For the last two months of school last year (which ended on the 17th of June), I asked students to start class by writing a response to the following prompt: “It’s _______ (date) at ______ (time) and I am thinking and or feeling _____.”

So, it is 1:41 on August 12th and I’m feeling at ease. I am sitting on my bed, typing away. Three mugs surround me: one full of blueberries (the berries here are freaking awesome), one of granola, and one of coffee. I’ve been in this same place for the better part of three days because– at long last– I have Covid. I tested positive on Wednesday evening after two days of misery. I must have gotten the virus somewhere on the travels home. And, what was going to be a week without kids, has turned into a week on the third floor in our wonderful home in Sadyba, Warsaw. Ah, well. I’m on the mend. Covid DID kick my butt, and I’ll likely be tired from the stairs for another five days or so, but that’s ok. I’ve gotten to watch a lot of television. I wish that sleep were easier, but whether from the virus or jetlag, I’ve been up– lots.

Reed is still at camp Ak-O-Mak and seems really, really happy. Paul scours the images on Bunknotes to find her smiling face after two years of missing the woods and the water. And Phoebe is in Zakopane with her soccer team. If you want to find images of her, you can go ahead and “like” Diamonds Soccer Academy (Pl.) or something like that on Facebook or Instagram. Paul and I are proud of both of our kids right now. Phoebe hopped on a train, overwhelmed by everyone communicating in Polish, wishing that she were still in Buffalo. She really didn't want to return, especially after the amazing Doyle family carted us up to Toronto. Mary, Phoebe's bff is like a third daughter. And Reed will get herself back to Warsaw on the second day of school. She’ll land and go to class this coming week.

The summer was full. Paul went to Rome for professional development when we flew back to Toronto (to get to Buffalo).

He learned and studied, ran in the heat and ate pizza. And, now he’s in meetings all day (where I should be if I were not home with Covid) gearing up for his new role in the school.

The summer is short at ASW, so time flew. We were able to celebrate Paul’s mom (Sue), bury and honor his parents, laugh and read alongside the Errickson side of the family on Cape Cod (which definitely honors his parents’ legacy), visit with the Culbertson side in Pittsburgh, PA, attend Pickle Fest, attend the final bonfire on my aunt’s farm, build a slideshow for my inquisitive and supportive Buffalo book club, attend soccer games for Phoebe and bake in the kitchen (using cups and tablespoons). Paul rode with his bike crew, and I walked in the cemetery as much as I could. We saw good friends and former students. We discussed equity, education, the war in Ukraine, race relations in Buffalo, NY, the state of schools, the IB program, illness, aging, dis-ease (everywhere), and we volunteered for Mrs. Frances Nash’s Garden Basket. We visited with old renters and prepped the place for the new family coming. Likely, since I’ve only listed a fraction of what we did, I was susceptible to be heavily impacted by Covid. By the time the start of August rolled around, Paul and I were tired.

Poland is gorgeous in the summer. The days are often in the mid 70s, and the evening in the low 60s. Trees are green and often spilling into neighborhood streets, and parks are full. So, we are happy to be back. A second year of ANYTHING is better: sophomore year of highschool, or of college. A second year of a job, a second year in a new neighborhood…

A second year of ANYTHING is better because it just isn’t the first. So, it's now 2:13 on August.12, and I'm thinking that this is my first second year in Poland. Despite having Covid, this makes me so happy.