Well, for those who didn’t hear my shouts of disbelief and request for verification that I wasn’t hallucinating, I passed the math. With a B. Even with making a 40% on one part of the final and completely forgetting another part of it and WHO KNOWS what I made on the written in-class part. I am still shaking my head over that one. The instructor assured me it was legitimate but I can’t see how. I’m no longer questioning. My GPA is now 3.93, thanks to that completely undeserved B. I’ll take it and be joyful. And yes, I did email the instructor asking him to verify that I wasn’t hallucinating. He did, and I wasn’t.
Anyway, school starts back on Monday, May 15. At the end of each semester I’m DONE with the school. I feel like saying “OK THAT’S IT.” Because I’m 52 and What. Ev. Er. I want to grow potatoes and take a cruise and pick roses and make throw pillows. I don’t need a degree for that. But I also want to be somewhat gainfully employed in a year and all the ads for jobs that are of the sort I’d like seem to require (at LEAST) an associates degree. And many seem to require several years experience, which I am still puzzled as to how one gets that. I am wondering hard if Housewifery, Husband-and-Child management (I managed to keep 4 of the 5 people alive, you know, and the one that died PROBABLY WASN’T MY FAULT).
However, in the interest of some sort of experience and upon the advice of a couple of instructors, I’m Gainfully Volunteering. I’ve done stuff like this in the past, so it’s not completely foreign. It will also fill some days and get on a radar or two of people who can give references. And, it’s fun. I like being useful and it will keep me from binge-watching Dr. Who.
And, now that The Final Child is graduating on May 26…oh my word. My last child is graduating. Pardon while I have a moment.
ok. I was dizzy for a second. That’s right. The sweet little tow-head boy in overalls, shoving around a tonka truck full of pinecones and perpetually requesting chicken fingers at restaurants is graduating from high school. He’s excited as am I, though I am a wee bit anxious about the big change. I mean, other than the having to wake him up at 6, 6:15, 6:20, 6:25, 6:30 and then loosing the dog on his bed to lick him awake…I won’t miss that. He has a good plan: an apprenticeship with a metal fabricator who is certified to teach and test him in welding, then work for a couple of years, then college. He also has another job at a local restaurant. He eventually wants a degree in organic chemisty. He will stay here when I move to The New House in another state, and I will miss him, but am also quite comfortable with his desire to stay here. There are a couple of brothers and many friends (including adults who can help him in a pinch) so he won’t be out there dangling alone in the cruel, cruel world. Sigh. My baby. Not only is he not 4 w/Tonka trucks, he has sideburns and a truck of his own and can cook. He is a kind and decent young man with a strong moral compass and gorgeous dark blue eyes. Another sigh.
I am ready to start back with the formal education. 2 weeks is plenty of break for me. I’m taking 3 courses this Summer: Business Ethics, Performance Management, and Team Project (which requires volunteer work, and that’s the ONLY thing I know about it other than there’s no textbook, and it’s one of the many reasons I’m volunteering now). All 3 courses are strictly online, so I only have to go to the school for the proctored final exams. This will allow me the ability to travel to The New House for longer spells, and get some real work done on it. The cabinets need making, there’s 2 rooms left to paint, and all the tiling (2 bathrooms and a laundry area). Other than the math, I’ve done well with online courses, and thanks to advanced age and mental (academically speaking) maturity, online has worked just fine. I can take my laptop with me and do the work anywhere.
It’s another page-turn to a new chapter in my life. I’d like to say I’m getting used to it, but I’m not. Even though page-turns happen to all of us, I’m still anxious a bit as I see the end of a chapter approaching. It seems like as soon as I get comfortable with the plot of my life, God says “complacency is unbecoming.” and changes things. I don’t know why I complain about it so much. If there’s one constant in my life, it’s change. Everytime I start thinking “Wow…things are going pretty smoothly right now.” there’s some sort of bump or existential flat tire or tsunami or tornado throwing me around and God sticks down a big finger for me to grab onto, and that doesn’t lessen the intensity of the event but it is definitely a stabilizing anchor that keeps me from drowning. He’s good like that.
A song of ascents.
1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.