the summer, too, shall pass

And so it starts.

Summer this year was busy. Terribly busy. The promise of free time on the drought stricken prairie was short lived: summer is out and school is about to go back in.

I am, however, feeling somewhat hopeful about this year.

You see, this year I'm the English teacher.

Perhaps that doesn't mean a lot to some of you. One teacher is much like another and is probably not worth mention.

For me, however, being the English teacher means something altogether different.

You see, this is why I went into education.

I didn't become a teacher because of the pay, hours, or kids. I became a teacher because I wanted to teach high school English.

And here I am. English teacher in a prairie high school.

Which makes it better, you know, because the prairie high school teacher is something of an archetype. I'm not sure I've been anything archetypal before. This is sort of exciting.

And so I'm going to sit now. Look out my classroom window at the dusty little town. Look at the shelves of books around my wall and think about the fall.

Regards from Alberta's brush plain.