Tuesday, 3/26

“What are you, 9 years old?”

Believe it or not, that’s a phrase that comes from Loraine’s mouth with some regularity. What prompted it this time around? We were out walking in the sun this past weekend and apparently, when the snow’s melting, I do something without even thinking.

You know how, on the side of the street, water runs under the piles of frozen sand, erosion carving out a big brown “shelf” under which the water runs? And you know how, if you jump on the “shelf”, it cracks and caves in? Well, apparently, whenever we’re out walking and I see something like that, I walk over and jump on the “shelf”, caving it in with a satisfying “thud”.

I didn’t even realize I do it until it was pointed out to me, but once it was pointed out to me, it made perfect sense. You see, when I WAS 9 years old, I remember jumping on those “shelves” like that. I also took advantage of the arrival of spring to play out on Norway Street in Marquette (where I grew up) using snow to build dams and catch the water as it was flowing down the slight incline on the street.

When you stop to think about it, it’s amazing how much of your childhood carries over with you into your adulthood. What’s even more amazing is that so much of it comes with you subconsciously, like, oh, jumping on ice shelves. It almost makes you wonder just how much other stuff is off lurking in some dusty corner of your brain.

Oh—and I might add that as our walk progressed Loraine joined in the jumping and the “thudding”. Guess it's kind of contagious!

****

Okay, speaking of stuff when I was nine years old, I received a letter from my third grade teacher, Ms. Johnson, at work yesterday, congratulating me on that History Center award I received last month. She sent me a nice note and the newspaper clipping about it, and I do appreciate it. And I had to laugh when I looked at the envelope and realized that can probably never stop being a teacher.

Why? Well, like all good teachers, she made sure I had a sticker--

So thanks, Miss Johnson (and trust me, she'll always be “Miss Johnson” to me). I appreciate the thought!

(jim@wmqt.com)