More Kids to Love

This week I started teaching.  Not just speech therapy.  But- in a classroom, standing in front of children and adults- teaching.

Let me explain.

As I mentioned- my interview for my placement this fall panned out and I’m working at a private school near Battery Park.  (No. I don’t get paid.  Yes.  This is part of my requirements to graduate.)

And this is how my new school works:

It has 4 classrooms for grades K-8.  (K-2, 2-4, 4-6, and 6-8) And each classroom is named after a stage in the cycle of tree development to eliminate confusion (although we all really have to draw on our biology memory to keep the classes straight.) The school has (not quite) 40 kids attending.  (Which means the classes are all pretty small.  About 8-12 kids.)

And. As I mentioned- it’s a private school.  It’s a private school for ‘gifted’ kids at that.  Specifically, this school caters to ‘2e (twice exceptional) students.’  Whatever that means.  (But I take it- it’s ‘school lingo’ for smart.)  In addition to being a school for smart kids it’s also a school for … (I don’t know the correct term for this) stressed kids.  So.  The kids at my school are all 1. smart 2. mostly well-to-do (some more than others although some to VERY high degrees.  There is ‘normal.’  There is ‘rich.’  And then this is Manhattan Rich.) and/or 3. diagnosed with some kind of anxiety, stress, learning, coping, and/or some other kind of disorder (i.e. Autism).  In light of that- some kids have their own personal paras to follow them around all day.  And every classroom has at least 2 teachers.  And the school has 2 on-staff school psychologists.  1 psych intern.  1 occupational therapist.  Several specialized classroom teachers (like ‘logic’- where they learn computer coding. And engineering.  Because who doesn’t need to start that in kindergarten?) And 2 part time speech therapists.  and me.    Needless to say.  The school has a pretty high teacher to student ratio.



And I bet you wonder what I’m doing there. How am I- a speech-language pathologist- going to help a bunch of smart kids??

Well. This brings to me part 2 of my monologue.  The part where I nerd out a little and tell you about my field.  So.

There are 5 parts of language (syntax, morphology, semantics, phonology, and pragmatics).  But basically.  All those add up to 1. language + 2. how it’s used.  Well.  While MOST of the kids at my school have great language skills (they speak in complete sentences and follow all the rules of grammar) some of them lack pragmatic skills.  Pragmatic skills are the skills needed to use language appropriately.  Things like- Taking turns talking.  Not giving too much information.  But not giving too little.  Speaking at an appropriate volume.  Taking the perspective of others.  How to look like you are listening to what people are saying to you.  How to understand non-verbal cues (like eye rolling, arm crossing, etc.)  And how to read others’ facial expressions.  (Just to name a few examples.)

K. The nerdy part is over.  I hope you learned something. 🙂

Back to my story.

SOOOO….. In summary.  I work at a private school for gifted kids and teach them social skills. Sometimes I do one-on-one sessions.  Sometimes I do group sessions.   I haven’t done very many of these yet.  But the other thing I do (which is not what school speech therapists usually do- which makes it pretty cool) is teach 2 speech classes. One for the K-2 class.  And one for the 4-6 class.  I will call my K-2 class the ‘kiddos’ and my 4-6 class ‘the boys.’  (Because my kiddos are all young and my boys- are all boys.)

This week I taught my kiddos about listening with your whole body.  That way when they start talking and making noises I can say, “are you listening with your mouth?”  Then I watch them think.  and realize they are making loud ‘bam, bam, bam’ noises.  Sometimes they actually seem surprised about this.  But then they stop.  Because to listen you can’t be making noises with your mouth.  Next week we are going to talk more about whole body listening.  Seems like a lesson I really want them to understand before moving on to something else.

Whole Body Listening

And my boys?  They are boys.   They didn’t seem that impressed with me when I started talking.  Probably because I interrupted their craft time where they were making posters about themselves.  But I got their attention with a true story about my life.  (People always like those.)  And we moved on to a ‘get to know you’ activity.  Just because it was the first day.  And when you are 9-11 years old you don’t want to just read a book and hold up popsicle sticks with lips and hands and ears on them.  The activity went well.  (In my opinion.)  I had them answer questions about themselves and then guess who the answer belonged to.  We only got through 2 questions (plus my story) in my 30 minute session.  But.  Did I mention?  These boys crack me up.  Probably not on purpose.  And not in class.  Just when I think about it.  Like having a heated discussion about ancient Greek and Roman history to justify wanting to visit Rome. (Hence- we will be working on taking turns in conversation.) And when I asked what superpower they’d like to have one said, “all of them. DUH!!!”  But when I said, “I’d want to teleport so I could commute faster,” he said, “You could just have supersonic speed.” (He’s obviously one for flare.)  But I pointed out that that kind of speed would take a lot of energy.  He said, “Not if you were bionic.” (Which I’m not.)  But I said, “Good point.”  I think this class is especially amusing to me because I spend my life almost entirely with girls.  I live with girls.  My department (and my field) is most girls.  And.  Sometimes boys are just funny too. 🙂

All that  to say.  I think I love my kids.  Every day I come home and tell my roomie about some dramatic event from watching these children manage their emotions and their lives (related to part 3 of the 3 things the kids at my school are) and she shutters a little and says, “And I thought my kids were bad.”  But really.  Every day is different and interesting.  I’m in a constant state of wondering.  Wondering about ‘intelligence’ and what that really is.  about culture.  The culture of high SES communities and how that affects intelligence.  And if that’s fair.  And I wonder about positive reinforcement (which you can google if you don’t know what it is- but my school promotes it exclusively as a method of behavior management).  And I wonder what God thinks of all this.  And of the lives of all these people.  But behind all the drama and stress and interest is the reality that these are vulnerable kids.  Who just need love.

Quote of the week, Haim Ginott.  Inspiring teacher/mentor quote for working with kids

What I Like about Hosting and My Fancy Week

What I like about hosting:

Before moving here I didn’t know I liked to host people.  I think I had this dramatic vision in my head that good hostesses prepare elaborate meals and were always available.  Well.  I don’t know if I am a good hostess BUT as hostess, while I almost never do either of those things, I still have fun.  I think mostly it’s because I like: 1. Meeting new people/ making new friends, 2. talking, and 3. taking people around the city.  Well. In the last 10 days my roommates and I have had people in our home 8 of those days.  I can’t speak for my roomies- but I, for the most part, greatly enjoyed it.  Last week we hosted 3 girls who were here for a mission trip.  And this week we hosted my friend DeLora ,who was here for an outreach weekend, AND my brother and his wife, who were here for a wedding.  Somehow they both managed to have a great time.  Mostly because Tony and LaTasha got to see their friends while they were here and they won cheap tickets to a Broadway.

See, they were pretty excited:


And DeLora and I had fun exploring and having foodie adventures.  Like this dessert deli.  Think gourmet sandwiches.  Made with cookies shaped like bread. And sliced fudge (like cheese squares).  And ice cream like a meat patty.  I also got strawberries on my sandwich.


And we went to the Hungarian Pastry Shop that I’ve been wanting to visit by my school.  So much goodness.  Plus.  I can finally say I know a coffee shop in Manhattan.  win win. Image

My Fancy Week:

This week I started ‘working’ at my new placement.  (Yes, the interview panned out.) (No.  I don’t get paid.  This is part of my school coursework.)  Well.  Since my new placement is at a private school in lower Manhattan my average day has taken a less than average turn towards ‘middle class’ exposure.  It is quite amusing to say the least.

The sun rising on the streets of Manhattan:


Blue skies and tall buildings.


The freedom tower.  Just blocks away.


My new building. So fancy.


Also fancy this week was the wedding I attended with these smiling people. Image

An outdoor ceremony at the country club.  I only got a little sun burnt. Image

The indoor reception that required the use of many different pieces of silverware and hours of grazing gourmet food.  yum!


Tony and Tasha with the happy couple, Kendall and Ingrid.  This isn’t a great picture of the guys- but the girls have their act together- so I’ll post it. 🙂


And a final, not so fancy thing.  A ‘flash mob’ in the subway at Times Square. Image

Oh New York.  Sometimes I love you too much.

City Livin. City Lovin. (Alternatively titled: Every Day is an Adventure)

If you’ve known me for any amount of time you know that  I love adventure days.  They are pretty much my favorite thing of all time. If you didn’t know- I sincerely question how well you know me. But. You don’t have to know me. (Though I would question then – why are you reading my blog?!? But don’t worry.  I won’t judge.)

So.  A good adventure day is typically a designated day where I do something that I deem “adventurous.”  Usually with people (which is how I prefer it) but they are not required.  What is required is that I like what I’m doing and that what I’m doing is something I’ve never done before.  I could have done something similar.  Or even done part of it.  But not exactly.  For it to be a legitimate adventure day at least part of the adventure has to be unfamiliar.

Those are my rules.  And upon review I discovered that this week at least part of every single weekday had an adventure.

Let’s begin.

Monday.  On Monday I wore a t-shirt.  To school.  In Manhattan.  One week after Fashion week. I’ve never felt like such a dork in all my life. (Well. That might be exaggerated since I don’t remember every time I’ve felt like a dork in my life.  But. Exaggeration is a key element to a good story. And I felt pretty dramatic this week.  So. It could have been true.) But let me explain.  I wore a navy “Columbia” t-shirt with a plaid skirt (not denim. just to be clear. my dorkiness did NOT extend to a denim skirt.)

Now. Since I am from Indiana I have observed that people in New York do not dress like people in Indiana. Here in NYC people are meant to be individuals.  One way they show this is by dressing well.  And uniquely.  Which means virtually NO “name brand” or team specific or school specific clothing. Unlike the Midwest.  Where identity means being part of something NOT standing apart from something.  Hence the plethora of Notre Dame shirts spread across Indiana.  It is even deemed to be appropriate “going out” apparel.  This is a source of comedy for New Yorkers as they never “go out” in a regular unisex t-shirt.  That would be pretty lame.  So lame in fact that the people who wear t-shirts here can be listed as: 1. homeless 2. tourists 3. people who need to do their laundry 4. people from the Midwest.  (In my perception at least.)

So. I wore a t-shirt. (b/c I qualified for numbers 3 and 4 listed above.) A Columbia University t-shirt.  and since I live in the ghetto. (kinda) I had this ridiculous feeling that I was more likely to be jumped now that my whole neighborhood knows how much I’m paying for school and where I go every day.  (A little melodramatic. I know.)

I was mostly okay wearing my t-shirt on campus.  Since I was, you know, at Columbia and all.  But I was pretty embarrassed to be wearing a t-shirt for my group meeting with my clinic supervisor.  Since we have a dress code in the clinic that explicitly says ‘no t-shirts.’  Granted.  The clinic isn’t open yet.  But I was pretty proud of my supervisor for not looking right at me when she read that regulation.

And on the way home. I counted (at one point) 3 white people within eye-shot of me on my train.  And 0 other people wearing regular t-shirts.

So. Monday was an adventure in being lame and breaking cultural norms.

Tuesday. On Tuesday I had an adventure finding a place to get my PPD (or TB) test.  Long story short, I ended up in Midtown.  Now.  If you don’t know NYC very well you don’t know what I mean by Midtown.  That’s fair.  So.  Let me explain. Midtown is just south of Central Park but north of all the villages (West, Greenwich, and East) and “lower Manhattan.”  It encompasses regions you may be more familiar with- like Times Square, Grand Central Station, Bryant Park, and the Flat Iron Building.  Well. I got out at Grand Central and walked to Madison Avenue to find a walk-in clinic.  Then I walked in and took the elevator and waited on a leather chair for a Doctor with the last name Fuzayloff (which sounds like Fuz-ol-off.  I thought perhaps he was related to Dr. Seuss.)  And this was the first time I’ve been somewhere in The City that was not related to tourism or food but actual events of daily living.  (yes. I have gone to my campus clinic.  and I have been to some elementary schools in Harlem.  But that hardly counts as The City.)  Anyways.  It is a funny feeling to feel like a real New Yorker.  To actually feel like I live here.  That I have a right to these experiences.  It’s a funny feeling.  but it’s a feeling I like.

Here’s a picture I took of Grand Central while I was there (just because I feel like a New Yorker doesn’t mean I never take pictures like a tourist.)


Wednesday.  On Wednesday I had an ENTIRELY different experience than any other day this week.  On Wednesday I went to the post office.  Which.  For some people is a dramatic enough experience alone because the lines are so long.  Luckily for me, that was not the source of my drama. (I only waited about 30 minutes.  Which I don’t constitute as being forever. IDK. Maybe you would.)  But what was interesting about my post office is that 1. It’s almost a mile from my apartment.  And I don’t have a car.  And it’s not accessible by public transportation.  Which made me feel very dramatic.  Like I was in Africa and the only way to get to the supermarket is by walking.  So walking I did.  It was an incredibly HOT Wednesday but that only added to the fun I guess. 2. My post office is located south of Atlantic Avenue.  Now. Atlantic Avenue (in my neighborhood) is the community understood line that divides the ‘good’ half of town from the ‘bad’ half of town.  I live in the ‘good’ half.  Just to be clear.  But I had to walk to the ‘bad’ half.  Now.  It’s not so bad that I feared for my life or anything. But. I did get some weird looks. And I didn’t see a white person for an hour. 3. In light of the preceding sentence you may have gathered that I, the ethnically and genetically WHITE girl from Indiana, was perhaps outside of my culture on this specific September day.  You are correct.  Which.  Put me at a great place for some interesting cultural observations.  From what I gathered, most of the people at the post office were from Caribbean (black and Spanish) decent.  Or they were culturally Black (African-American or whatever the trendy word is these days).  Which means.  They formed lines differently than I would have expected.  That’s all. I picked up my package and walked home.  Carrying my small box with pride.  As if to say, “see. I have a reason for being here. I got mail!” Just another culturally interesting adventure.

Thursday.  Thursday was least adventurous of all. I went to Midtown again to get my TB test read.  But since I’d been there just 2 days before it hardly counted as an adventure.  But I did get to use my new green umbrella.  Which counts for something.  Because it’s one of those big ones with a point on the end and a curved handle.  When I moved here I wondered why people would want to carry around such big umbrellas.  But. They have some many advantages.  Like. They are bigger. And. You don’t have to hold them awkwardly away from your body when you get on the train to prevent getting wet from your umbrella because you can rest the point on the ground.

Anyways. I didn’t take a picture of my  umbrella.  Mostly because I was so annoyed that it didn’t rain until 8 pm and I suffered in madd humid weather (in my rain boots- lookin like a dork AGAIN) for most of the day up to that point.  But I did take another picture in Midtown.  Here you can see one building reflected in the windows of another.


Friday.  Friday was my biggest adventure of all.  On Friday I went for an interview for my placement this fall.  I won’t know until next week how that turned out, so we will stick the the surface stuff of the situation.  Which is- my interview was in the Financial District. I know these ‘districts’ mean nothing to you.  But- to me- every neighborhood has a feel.  Which is created by the people that fill it.  And (I think) the feel comes from the fact that people are in different neighborhoods for different reasons. (I.e. eating, living, touristing, work) Anyways.  The financial district as an interesting feeling to it. Especially when you are part of the living part of it rather than the looking part.  Because it is full of a lot of tourists.  But these tourists don’t go in these big tall buildings and sign in at the front desk and get a 9 digit pass code to a touch-screen keypad that makes the elevator fly you up a mere 3 floors to a private school.  Like I said- the living part of living here is a bit surreal to me sometimes.  And I was glad (for once) to have worn the appropriate attire (heels) and not looked like a dork.

Here are some pictures I took of this ‘everyday life’ adventure:

My view when I got off the train.  From Broad Street.  Onto Wall Street.  That’s the Federal Building up ahead. I posted about it once on one of my sightseeing adventure days.


Here’s the view to the North outside my destination building. That’s the wall street bull to the right. Image

Here’s the view to the south outside my destination building.  You can see the glass building that is home to all the Staten Island Ferry rides that soooo many tourists (and locals) take.


And here’s the sky from Broad Street.  That’s it.  Just straight up there.  There is something comforting about having so many buildings close to you.  It’s like an urban hug.  (Although sometimes it may feel a bit like a hug that lasts too long.)


And to celebrate my adventure I marked something off my bucket list.  A cupcake from Crumbs. It’s nice they have chairs and tables on the street.  Makes for a great place to eat cupcakes.


To top off my adventure week we hosted 3 girls in our home who were here on a mission trip and attended our own church’s mission focus weekend.  And that’s it.  That was my week full of adventures in (another) lengthy blog.

And since I NEVER know how to end these things (it’s worse than trying to hang up the phone) I’m going to use a Zimmerman (phone) classic and say, “well. I’d better let you go.”

Happy September adventuring everyone. 🙂

My Bucket List(s)

When people at home act all dramatic about me living in New York City sometimes I’m tempted to sigh and smile.  I usually do actually.  Then I tell them living in THE city is great.  But just like living in Indiana- it becomes normal and fills up with routines and expectations and realities.  And then it doesn’t have to be so dramatic any more.

Well. This week I returned from the corn fields of the midwest and next week my new routine of my final year as a student hits full swing.  (dun. dun. dun.) One of my classmates acted surprised when I said that I’m glad to be back.  But really, I said, it is a bit melodramatic to complain about school starting again when the only thing I’ve ever done as an adult is go to school. (ok. make that- my whole life- since I also went to school as a child.)  Plus. This is my last year. And after this I get to face “reality.”  Which (from what I hear) isn’t that exciting, stable, or predictable.  So.  While I have a lot of decisions to make before this time next year, I don’t have to make them just yet.  Instead, I’m just going to enjoy this stage I’m in. (Well. That’s the plan anyways.)

So. I decided to start my last year out right- by doing some things on my bucket list. (Yes. I have a bucket list.) Three actually.  One for my life. Which I wrote as a teen and really- was rather short-sighted I must say.  One in my head.  Which is more like- an “oh- I’ve always wanted to do that!  Now would be a good time for that!” type list.  And one for New York.  That way if someone visits and we don’t know what to do I look at my list and it gives me ideas.

So what did I do?  Well. First, I flew “home.” Which was interesting. Coming home from home is always interesting. Not the flight itself.  But mentally adjusting.  I realized I had been gone for a while when I thought it was fun to ride the subway.  Don’t worry.  I got over it by the time I hit rush hour in Manhattan.


So I flew back to New York on Labor Day.  And the day after Labor Day I marked an event off my life AND New York bucket lists by going to see a Yankees game. (Not that I specifically had to see the Yankees.  But I did want to see a professional sporting event.  Thanks to my school- I was fortunate enough to see this one for $16!)  All in all- it was a great experience.  I went with my friends so we talked and ate food and laughed through the first several innings and mentally joined the game just in time to see the Yankees make a 5 point 8th inning comeback to win the game!


Then I went to school.  For my last first day ever.  (Not counting the first day of Spring semester that is.)  Needless to say- starting my last year of school is just one step towards finishing my last year of school.  And that is definitely Bucket List worthy.


Later in the week I headed to Long Island City (LIC) to do some exploring. No.  Long Island City isn’t somewhere exotic.  It’s just in Queens, across the river from Manhattan.  Which means it still feels like it’s almost part of Manhattan.  But it’s cleaner.  And has some great views.  I actually went to LIC 2 days with 2 different ‘groups’ of people.  The first day I went with a friend to see a museum. (The museum wasn’t specifically on my bucket list.  But using my school ID to get into museums for free is on my mental bucket list.  As was checking out LIC. So. It was a win.)

We met this nice screen-print graffiti on our way.


And this is the museum we went to.  It is a sculpture museum.  But rock sculptures.  So.  More like… kind of hard to tell what this is supposed to be sculptures.  So.  It’s not typically ‘my kind of art’ (I prefer realism and impressionism.) But. We had fun trying to match the rock sculptures to their pictures on the map.  Plus.  It’s always good to spend time with friends and do things you wouldn’t always choose to do. (well. I’m sure there are exceptions to that always statement.  But anyways.)  Here are the pictures from this adventure:


My friend Shannon.  Trying to see if she measures up to this piece of art. (We thought it looked like a yard stick is all.)


Can you see us?


Then we walked to the pier for a picnic.  That we packed ourselves.  Because we’re good like that.  And because we like views of the city.


So that was day one in LIC.  On day two -two of my friends and one of my friend’s friends and I (haha. good luck figuring that out) went to check out MoMa PS1 (which has been on my mental bucket list since I visited MoMa my first weekend moving here a year ago.)  However, PS1 was closed today.  So instead we checked out 5 Pointz.  Which has also been threatening my mental bucket list since I heard about it last fall.  It turned out to be a pretty cool find.

Basically.  5 Pointz is a building that allows graffiti (with a permit and only during certain hours) in order to promote the urban art of graffiti.  Yay for public art!

How we felt about PS1 being closed today:


Some artists at work:


Yeah.  It’s a pretty big building. ImageImageImage

This one made me think of my parents and their bakery. 🙂 ImageImage

We ended our adventure with another walk to the pier.  This sign is cool because if you are in Manhattan looking across to Queens- one way you can tell it’s Queens and not Brooklyn is to look for the Pepsi sign.  And here it is!Image

And there they are.  The Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. (and the United Nations).Image

Yup.  That’s my city.  And yes.  It is pretty different than ‘home.’  But I like it. And I’m glad to be back. Even if it means I have homework to do again. And even if it means that I’m going to have to put my Bucket List on hold for awhile again to get said homework done.  Because, you know, you can do a lot- but you can’t do everything. At least not all at once.

And a final cheesy joke from today (from my friend Kai- who may be even cornier than me):

“How did the hipster burn his tongue?”

“He drank his coffee before it was cool.”

The Midwest vs. Manhattan

I’ve officially been home for 16 days now and tomorrow I return to (what people here like to call it) the big city to 1. mark my 1 year anniversary to moving to New York and 2. finish my (6th and) last year of school.  I suppose this means it’s time for a comparison between the two places I call home.  So. Here. We. Go.

Since my move to Brooklyn a year ago (and in my many trips home since then -6 altogether!) I have gotten better at switching from ‘Indiana’ mode to ‘NY’ mode.  However, there are still a few things that surprise me every time.

1. The water. Tastes funny in Indiana. Well water. And I still think it tastes funny.

2. The sky.  Day or night.  The milky way. The sun. The clouds. The fact that I can see an entire sunset without craning my neck.  It’s beautiful and sad all at the same time.  I love the space in the country.  I can feel it.  It’s a palatable sensation of having room for things.  For nature. For life.  But it also gives me a feeling like the opposite of claustrophobia.  Instead of wanting to get out of a small space I want to find one.  All the emptiness of space around me- the fact that I can stand (and sleep) without touching anything- makes me feel like I could easily get lost. A small spec of humanity in a galaxy of orbits.  Something like an ant must feel as it walks among humans.  So tiny and precarious and yet part of it all.

3. The night.  It’s so dark.  When I drive. The signs are blurry a mile away.  And I realize that maybe I need to update my contact prescription.  And then I realize I don’t need to because I almost never need to see anything a mile away in the city- because everything is closer together than that.

Plus. Driving in the dark is a little bit scary. The city is almost never dark.  But here in the country- I can’t see a thing.  And that’s kinda scary.  But I’m brave.  And I get over it.

4. Air conditioning.  Everyone has central air.  Sometimes I’m freezing cold.  That is weird.  In Brooklyn we all have (if we’re lucky) window air conditioning.  So if I don’t want to be cold I can just move away from the window.  Totally different.

5. The cost.  Of food.  In Indiana. In New York I consider a good/average meal to cost between $10-$20.  $20 is usually more than I want to spend.  Which is why I never eat at sit down places (which can easily exceed that range.)  But here in Indiana.  Breakfast for $5. Dinner for $12. I’ll take it!

6. The people. In this part of Indiana they are white.  Amish. Mennonite. Christian people.  No. Not all of them. I know. Some people are black.  Some are from Mexico.  Some are from somewhere else.  They may be Muslim. Or they might not be.  But even our local public high school my sister (a senior) says that she thinks almost all of her class would be ‘professing Christians.’  To note: This is the same senior class that lost a classmate to suicide last week.  The first documented suicide of a Fairfield student in history.  In response they spent the entire day in the auditorium crying, talking, and praying together.  At a public high school. I wish that feeling of community was available to all children of the world.  Especially in New York. I also wish suicide and death were treated like the dramatic and tragic things that they are.

7. But the largest difference I have seen so far between the ‘city slickers’ and the ‘country folk’ is their different world views.  This is a working theory and is subject to change.  And for that reason I will keep it to personal conversations rather than the world wide web.  But once I came to this realization- transitioning from one place to the other got a lot easier for me.

Ok. I think we’re ready for the photo montage part of this post.

Corn.  Sometimes gets in the way.


My most ‘urban’ view in Goshen.


I went to a high school football game while I was home.  These Amish boys were in the stands.  So funny to me.


Also. Our family went to the zoo.  Just because we wanted to do something together.  It turned out to be a pretty fun day (even if we were the biggest ‘kids’ there)!





The end. Of this blog. Of summer vacation. Of no homework, staying up till 2 am, and sleeping in till 9. Of seeing my family every day. Of sleeping in my big bed. Of homemade bread and ice cream from the Chief.  As always.  Going home is bittersweet.

I LOVE this quote!