Tag Archives: Gaelic

Strategizing for Strategy’s Sake

Beauty in the day: they are 2nd graders. One was in the office to take a “break”, something that is a new development in helping with his success. The other has been known to come and sing for me, particularly tunes he deems as “Spanish-Gaelic”, and also likes a little help with his success.
Singer came in dramatically, dragging his leg behind him and punctuating his steps with groans. Upon arrival, he heaved his gangly little body onto the countertop, the back of his hand grazing his forehead. “I hurt my leg,” he managed, with what was clearly almost his last breath. We went to get an ice pack, which he made use of for at least 45 seconds. He was suddenly back by my side, his upper body strewn out over the desktop again. “I want to know if my idea is going to happen,” he said pointedly.
“Your idea?” I asked, following the obvious prompt.
“Yes. I think I could maybe be Strategy Boy, and maybe there could be Strategy Man, or something.” This was a reference to our principals who dressed up as Unity Man and Virtues Boy a short time ago, which was quite a hit.
Someone came into the office, and the conversation was interrupted. It was at this point that “taking-a-break-boy” approached Spanish-Gaelic Boy with a proposition: “If you change your mind, can I be Strategy Boy?”
“Well, you can be Strategy Man, because you’re taller than me.”
“Well, maybe I could, because I’ve been growing a mustache.”
“I think I might be too. I have some hairs…”


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!”


Wait for It

Beauty in the day: he came in to the office first thing. “Have you seen this (movie name) movie?” I told him the unfortunate news that I had not.
“Oh, well, it’s really good. It’s about a girl, and she goes on a beach, and then she finds this shell, and then a bunch of stuff happens that you don’t want to hear about, and then she blows into the shell and a song happens. Do you want to hear it?” I assured him completely that I would, indeed. He got his mouth ready, and seemed about to sing, but then didn’t. “I can’t remember the song,” he supplied. “I’ll let you know if I can remember. But it starts like this,” and he allowed a single note to escape. I thanked him for his preview.
After school was out, he came back. “Did my teacher tell you that I would sing my song?” I told him that she had, and waited. “I need more teachers than this,” he insisted. I gathered a few who were nearby. He said he forgot the song. I reminded him. “You said it was a Spanish and Gaelic song, remember?” He truly seemed to remember – but then didn’t. He would need to look it up in his book, he said. So, we await tomorrow, for the Spanish-Gaelic song. How many of you have a Spanish-Gaelic song to look forward to in the morning? And a serenade, no less.