It’s almost back-to-school time. And I’m wondering where the summer went. Then again, I’m still writing 2017 for the year, so I may not by the best person to judge the passage of time.
My mother’s birthday is Aug. 29. I mention that because when I was a child, she’d always say the children going back to school was her birthday present. I never understood that until I became a parent.
I hate this time of year. OK, maybe hate is a strong word. But it’s not my favorite, by far. I remember, as a child, dreading the start of August.
Those bicycle paths around the house were just getting worn in. The swimming holes were holding up well. Who wanted to ruin all that fun by going back to school? Seeing those backpacks and school supplies in the store still gives me a few seconds of dread.
I lived on the outer reaches of the Otto-Eldred School District and didn’t see many school friends in the summer. So it was nice to see everyone when we went back. And because I was — and still am, really — a bit of a nerd, I did enjoy the challenge of new classes.
I remember waiting impatiently for the class lists to be posted on the door of the high school, so we could go see which homeroom we’d be in for the coming year. And to see if there were any new students coming.
When my daughter was in school, I remember sending her to kindergarten on the school bus. About six weeks into the year, the driver and aide asked me if I worked in a clothing store, because my daughter hadn’t worn the same outfit twice. I got a good laugh out of that, and ‘fessed up that I shopped garage sales all summer long. My daughter was a very small child, and still wore toddler sizes in kindergarten. I’d shop garage sales all summer long, buying only the nicest, fanciest clothes — the kind parents save “for nice” instead of for everyday wear. And then the kids outgrow them, often wearing an outfit only once or twice.
A few years ago, one of the young folks who worked in our newsroom told us about the “green movement,” and how he wouldn’t buy anything new. He would only wear used clothing and buy used furniture and household goods, to reduce his footprint on the earth.
Pick berries, grow a garden, he told us, grow grapes or plums, plant corn and potatoes. Use a wood stove for heat.
I called my mother, and told her our family was “green” before it was fashionable. We were trendsetters, forward-thinkers! We got quite a laugh out of that.
The young man was not a native of McKean County, as one might have guessed.
At any rate, it won’t be long now before children will be waiting for the bus, and motorists will be grumbling about having to wait for the frequent stops of a bus picking up its precious cargo.
So a few reminders — if you worry a school bus might make you late for work, leave earlier. Speeding or trying to pass a bus is so dangerous. That big lumbering bus is filled with our future.
Watch for children — now and always — entering the street. Sometimes little ones get excited, and might not make the best choices with where to stand or how to wait patiently.
And if you have a child in your family who is heading back to school, wait until they are on the bus to gloat. And if you are going to do a happy dance, make sure their friends are watching.
(Schellhammer is the Era’s associate editor. She can be reached at marcie@bradfordera.com)
