Category Archives: Friends

Beauty by the Thimbleful

Beauty in the day: friend AP at another school had a fun day today. I got pictures to prove it, and they were accompanied by a quote about said Friend AP.

When I left work today, I took the West Lake Sammamish route to Issaquah – a seemingly good plan. On this gorgeous, lovely day, it should not have mattered that I traveled approximately 8 miles at 4 mph. I survived it, but was stressed because I had to get some people to the airport. No sooner did I get home, than it was time to leave to go BACK to Bellevue to pick up airport Friend. The good news is that my 6 hours on W. Lake Sammamish prepared and trained me for the 42 hour trek at 4 mph to the airport – IN THE CARPOOL LANE. Actually, at one point we noticed that we were traveling at the break-neck speed of 26 mph, and I think I may have strained a muscle in my neck over that. Gah.
I traveled home and enjoyed the beautiful evening – so what if it was spent in a car? No matter. I had music and all that good stuff.

Oh – the quote? Yeah, that made my day. How about “Evil Life-Ruining Fool”? I’m hoping to use it in a sentence tomorrow. The beauty? People, by now you know that it’s ALL part of the beauty of life. AP Friend shared it with pride. She knew it really meant “job well done”. She’s talented like that. 😊

The Bigger the Better

Beauty in the day: little Aussie came in. “Excuse me, but I have some shorts on. They are a size 3, and they are not supposed to fit me anymore, but instead they keep, well, slipping down all day, and I have had about all I can take of pulling them back up again (again pronounced “ah-gane”).”

“Well, that’s a bit of a problem, then isn’t it? School is over in 18 minutes, so instead of calling your mom, perhaps we can find some string to fashion a belt for you. What do you think?”

His thought ran toward the affirmative, so I set about my task. Road block: I could find no string. SOMEONE has my string. “Um, Friend, I can find no string, but I have this polka-dot red curling ribbon. What do you thing about us using this?”

As luck would have it, his thoughts again ran toward the affirmative.

I fashioned the makeshift belt, and tied a knot. “When you get home, your mom can use scissors to cut off this belt.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “I think my mom should save these shorts for me when I have grown a bit bigger, because I do know that I plan to grow some more.”


The Leap From Spanish to Irish is Sweet

Beauty in the day: okay, so it wasn’t Spanish-Gaelic after all.

More on that later.

So young singer gets permission to come to the office, because he wants to sing his song for me. He comes into the office and waits for my attention.

“Hi Friend, what’s up?” Friend hesitates and then regales me with a story of how his nose was bleeding the night before and has never stopped. A conference with the school nurse determined that “never stopped” is equal to “bled for about a minute straight, then stopped, and then subject goes back to sleep.” We took a look at his perfectly formed and perfectly healthy nose, and sent him back to class.
His teacher later asked if we got to hear the song. Answering in the negatory, she was amused, as that had been the purpose of his office visit.
After school (once he had managed to pilfer some pretzels from the nurse’s stash), he came and stood in front of my desk. I decided to meet the elephant in the room head-on.
“Friend! What happened to the Spanish-Gaelic song you were supposed to sing for me?”

“For the last time, it’s IRISH-Gaelic!”

Note: in this particular post, “for the last time” is equal to “this is indeed the very first time I have ever mentioned this”.

“Well, Irish-Gaelic makes so much more sense! I think I can easier imagine this song now. I think you should sing it for me.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he shared in a hushed tone, “I didn’t sing it because I got embarrassed a little.”

“Well, I can certainly understand that. It takes bravery to do some things. But it might give you some courage if you remember that you have sung for me before. And very well, I might add.”

He looked dubious, but as I reminded him about the “Blue Skies” song, his face lit up. I was in mid-sentence when he began his recital. It started out with some special oohing and ahhing, and culminated with poetry about the north and the south.

“Wow, Friend! That was great! Was that from the Hobbit?”

“For the last time, it was from “Song of the Sea.”

(You and I are sharing one of those knowing looks right now)

There was some other information about a selkie (had to look that up) that turns into a seal, and suddenly the van had arrived to take him to Boys and Girls Club.

“Okay bye!” He called, and then, “I’ll try to sing another one sometime!”


A Bad Thing vs. A Worse Thing

Beauty in the day: he missed his van. He came in, his little self all hot and sweaty; his breathing labored with concern. “I was late because I got lost,” he said by way of explanation.
“How could you get lost, Friend? You wait in the same place every day. ”
But he didn’t wait in the same place today. He stole away to the playground, the temptation being too great since he ended his day with a different teacher, and the sun was hot in the sky. Then the true reason for his semi-frightened demeanor unveiled itself: when he knew he had missed the van, he decide to try to walk to the Boys & Girls Club by himself. This is when he got “lost”, though he hadn’t actually gotten anywhere.
“Friend, ” I began, with my hands on either side of his face. I stroked his hair back a few times, and then continued, “you must never, never try to go to the Boys & Girls Club on your own. Never. If you miss your van, that’s a bad thing, right?” He agreed. “But if you try to walk there alone, that is a much worse thing, because there are too many dangers. If you miss your van, it’s okay to come to me and say ‘Ms. Nordstrom, a bad thing happened’, and then we can work together to fix it. Okay?” He nodded. But what with the trauma of the moment, I knew I wouldn’t be serenaded today with a Spanish-Gaelic song.