And On This Friday, I Exit the Last of the 14-Hour Days That Made Monday-Thursday What They Were

And at 9:40 p.m., I pulled in my driveway after beginning my day at 7 a.m., to work until midnight on meeting the last of the week's deadlines. I did have the pleasure, however, of working with a team of five to select this year's 7th and 8th Grade Poetry For Peace winners from Fairfield and Bridgeport schools. We had a record number of 470 poems and narrowed it down to the top 16, a representation of many schools with a variety of poetic styles.

Have you ever read 470 poems by middle school students? You should some day. It makes you a better human being.

We had numerous folders to go through and had to come to consensus and we were thrilled that the 1st 12 were on all of our lists. The last four, however, came from conversation, debate, and an eye on representation.

I went to bed last night with the thought "Poetry Is," reflecting on the number of responses from middle school students. The picture to the right is part of our 'narrowing-down' process in 148 Canisius Hall.

Meanwhile, at home, the cold temperatures have thinks crackling and breaking: limbs, snowbanks, rooftops, etc. I heard a large bang out back that made it seem like the back porch collapses. I have no idea what is was, but it shook the whole house. I thought winter was over last month when it almost hit 70 degrees. Surprise. March had much more in store for us.

I'm kicking off my Friday wishing I was at a resort where I could hike, walk, and run all day, then take momentary breaks looking out at oceanic waters. I would love this to be without technology: computers, emails, cellphones, and social media. I need a week with a pile of books, sunshine, and fresh air, where I hear no demands, no voices, and just the lapping of waves.

That would be a TGIF, indeed. A dream, but the wish will keep me going for a little longer.