Prices

In life, mostly, we know how much something costs up front before making the decision to buy it. In retail stores we see price tags on items or shelves. It’s $120, but everyone needs a cashmere sweater in black, no? Nowadays you can even find scanners in the score which serve the dual purpose of identifying a price and satisfying the frustrated inner cashier in some of us.

You bring your car to the shop, they give you an estimate first, right? You want to build a deck, have your local contractor come by and work out the plans and price. You pull up to the pump, you know what you’ll be paying (reluctantly) for a gallon of gas. And menus have prices. Never do you eat a bowl of pasta then get bowled over by the price. You know up front.

But it occurred to me recently, as I seethe at a bill from my dentist, that such is not the case in medicine or dentistry. There’s no signage when you walk in an office that says:

Blood pressure reading: $50

Blood pressure and pulse combo: $75

I don’t know how much a Pap smear costs up front, nor would I be in a position to negotiate for one. (Literally.) But maybe worse than not knowing is that, really, if we did know up front, we can’t really do anything about it. We’re stuck. For those of us who are fortunate to have insurance, the only way we know how much a dentist or doctor charges is if our insurance doesn’t cover it all and we get a bill.

On a recent bill from my dentist I saw a charge of $175 for a crown recement. Even if I walked in with a crown in a coin purse because I was silly enough to eat a Sugar Daddy I’d find this high, but such was not the case. In order to prep another tooth for a crown for which they would bill me, they needed to take off an existing crown, then recement it later. But it wasn’t considered a part of the new crown prep cost. Unbelievable. And yet if I did know up front that it would cost the equivalent of 6 manicures, I could not have said, no, I’d rather you not uncement then recement my crown so that you can prep the tooth next to it for a crown. Now I’m just pissed that I’m stuck with the bill.

And yet I know I am fortunate. I can’t imagine what it must be like to live without any health or dental insurance coverage. At all. I'd have shabby hands and one less tooth, I'm sure.

The Gym

I decided to join a gym. Not an expensive one, or one where I’ll have to commit to showing up at a certain time to jump around or cycle with strangers, or one where people grunt while lifting weights, but a gym where there is exercise equipment that may give me a better workout than my Leslie Sansone Walk Away the Pounds DVDs.

I’m nervous. Of course I am! I know that my first time there I am going to feel as vulnerable as I did when I was in grammar school and we picked teams for kickball, or when I had to change into a one-piece gym suit in the locker room at the middle school. I’m going to put myself back in that self-conscious place that none of us likes to go, but it’s clear to me that since I am not willing to give up food or wine, and my logy metabolism is slowing down even more now that I’m in my mid-forties (did I just say that?), I need to exercise more.

The last time I frequented a gym it was a painless and successful and free experience. I eased into it slowly with my friend Candyce. We were both Resident Directors at Simmons College at the time, and fortunate to have access to the newly constructed, state-of-the-art Sports Center. We started by walking together on the suspended track, and eventually felt confident enough to tackle the Stair Master. Gradually we used all the equipment regularly—rowing machines, bicycles, treadmill. And it was great. I stayed with it for two years, and got fit enough to run. Yeah, like outside, with a walkman, which—once I no longer had the luxury of free gym membership—was a good thing because it was free.

Alas that was a long time and a foot surgery ago, and I have no friend to accompany me or encourage me this go-around. But I do think it’s about time I moved a little more. So wish me luck.

(And think of the material I’ll get there, the stories I’ll have to share!)

Lunch Club

Summer demands light, fresh, and easy meals, with little to no cooking if possible. I like to sweat as little as possible (not at all) (God help me in menopause) and the last thing I want to do is overheat after I’ve finally gotten my body temperature down at the pool. I do enjoy eating out of course, but because I have to stretch my last paycheck (albeit oversized) and live on a budget from the beginning of June to the end of August, I do not eat out very often in the summer. Especially in August. Quickly sautéing of a piece of fish; boiling a pot of water for a simple pasta with a no-cook sauce; or slicing, seasoning, and arranging fresh mozzarella and tomatoes are about my speed in the summer. Some nights cheese and crackers count as dinner.

Once my air conditioner is off for the season and the days get shorter and colder, I find my way back to the kitchen. I experiment with new recipes and make old favorites like chili, whose recipe I developed decades ago, before anchovy paste was among my refrigerator staples and I knew what Sriracha was. Recent faves include an Italian sausage soup, and spicy sesames noodles with pork tenderloin medallions. Because I am my mother’s daughter I usually make more food than necessary, so I tend to freeze or share. Sometimes both.

As I have mentioned before my friend Amy is also a foodie and avid cook, so she and I developed a lunch club of a sort, where we take turns trying out new recipes on each other or sharing leftover favorites. There is no formal schedule or pressure to supply (even though Amy apologizes a lot when her husband leaves no leftovers), but on occasion one of us will deliver to the other a lunch, packed nicely in a gift bag or small shopping tote, including any necessary accoutrement, like a hard roll for soup, or grated cheese, or tortilla chips for said chili, and a sweet treat. Neither of us claim or desire to be pastry chefs, but can usually muster a couple of Hershey kisses from our pantries, or something from our respective chocolate stashes like anyone with two X chromosomes should.

I though about making chili the other day, but wasn’t there yet. Soon enough. Again, I’m not ready to rush the seasons, just looking forward to the treasures they bring.

Little Victories

The other day in my Biology classes, my lesson plans included discussing controlled experiments and identifying variables. (I know, exciting stuff!) In my first decade of teaching it was a struggle to get kids to tell the difference between the independent variable and the dependent variable. I was proud of developing a tool to help them in this quest and always begin the year telling kids “if you use 'To see if _____________ affects _____________,' format it will be easier to keep them straight. The first blank is the independent or manipulated variable, and the second is the dependent or responding variable. It comes in extra handy when writing lab reports. If you see the purpose statement as the question you are trying to answer, then the conclusion is the answer to that question, supported by data."

For example: To see if discounts affect shopping habits.
Independent variable: discounts; dependent variable: shopping habits.
Conclusion: Yes, discounts affect shopping habits because when Lord and Taylor has a sale and email coupons, Ms. K always goes shopping.

Well, for kids I use other examples, like to see if amount of sleep affects student performance, but you get the point.

At the end of the day, at the end of my first week of teaching, I found that all my students knew the difference, that even if I changed sentence structure to be tricky so that the independent variable was not found in the first half of the sentence, students identified them correctly. Not one student got one wrong. In any of my three sections of Biology! Can I tell you how happy I was? Beyond that, they know what a control is, and what constants are. They can discuss controlled experiments like it’s nobody business. I am thrilled.

The victory belongs to my colleagues, of course, who get these students before me, in freshman biology, or at the middle school. But it makes me happy nonetheless. I am hopeful that they’ll grow up to be scientifically literate adults. That they’ll be able to analyze and think critically and be savvy consumers. But right now it’s enough to be hopeful that we will have a good year.

Little victories first.

Seasons

Yesterday, when I finished nesting—washing and spinning lettuce, taking stock of my freezer stock—I actually thought about not going out to the pool. I was tired after a weekend spent mostly crying, glued to the TV watching the memorial and funeral service for Ted Kennedy (Rest in Peace), and didn’t want to be bothered to get in my bathing suit and gear up for the pool. So I decided to rest on the couch and ignore the sun that was peeking through my windows after a weekend of mostly rain.

While I dozed, I even fantasized about fall, about getting apple cider plug-ins from Bath and Body, and pumpkin spice scented Yankee candles. Clearly, I had gotten over the assault of the Halloween aisle at CVS, and the idea of autumn had sprouted somewhere in my brain. And I do love fall, especially after a long summer.

Eventually I scolded myself for being so lazy. I mean, come on now, that is award-winning sloth to be too tired to sit by the pool. Or at least to get myself there. I reminded myself that time moves on and the seasons change, and soon enough I will be wishing for a sunny day by the pool. I need to enjoy every moment and make the most of every day, and dreaming about fall from my comfy couch was not the best use of my time.

Especially since there’s no rule about dreaming about fall while sitting by the pool.

Rain

Well, I made it through my first week of school unscathed. I started off on the right foot, gave myself plenty of time in the morning (more than I needed) every morning and didn’t hit snooze once all week. I got a little sun every day after school and finished that book I wanted to finish. And tomorrow it’s supposed to rain. I couldn’t be happier.

Yes, you read correctly. I, Queen of the Pool, am looking forward to the rain.

As much as I love the sun, I have never been one to unequivocally hate the rain. I find it soothing and can enjoy a good, steady rain sometimes. I plan to tomorrow.

A hurricane (maybe only a tropical storm at this point) is coming up the coast and is supposed to deliver some heavy rain tomorrow. This morning, as I sipped my coffee and watched my morning meteorologist talk about it, I got a little excited. I thought of how nice it will be not to feel like I have to hurry off somewhere, not to feel compelled to enjoy the sunshine by my pool. I won’t have to slather myself with lotion and make extra ice, and double check my bag for reading and writing materials. Instead, tomorrow I can listen to the raindrops on my skylight and have an extra cup of coffee, watch Food Network all day and read while I stay cozy under my microfiber throw blanket. It will be a nice change of pace.

Summer is not over and there will be more sun. But tomorrow I am going to take my cue from nature and stay inside.

Still Summer

Today the high temperature is predicted to be around 90 degrees, but the dew point has dropped to a more comfortable 62%, "slightly humid" on the scale used by my local news station of choice. Based on the date, and the weather, it is summer. Still. And so I have decided that although I am back to work, back at school as of yesterday preparing for the students' arrival on Thursday, August 27, I will still enjoy summer while it lasts. More importantly, I will make efforts not to let my job wheedle its way into every crevice of my life.

Yesterday I went to the pool for a couple of hours after school and will again today. I read in the late afternoon sun until I got hungry enough to make myself some Caprese salad for dinner. With msnbc in the background I read some more while I sipped some wine. Today I plan on sitting by the pool as well to read some more—my goal being to finish this book by the weekend so that I can attempt another one over the weekend, and get through another one or two by Labor Day.

I do believe it is part of the nature of the beast that is teaching that teachers rarely leave their jobs at work. (And if you do, you feel guilty.) There are papers (and lab reports) to correct, lesson plans that can be revamped, new images that can be downloaded and imported into PowerPoint presentations. But there is also my sanity to maintain, which requires a whole lot of balance for me.

Even when the season changes and I am no longer drawn to the pool like iron filings to a magnet, and instead can’t trade wool crepe fast enough for French terry after school, I will try to maintain balance this year. I will try to write often and read often, and complain less. Yes, there will be nights that I cannot put off lab reports any longer or that I am too tired to do anything but sit with my feet up on the coffee table staring at the TV like post-lobotomy Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, but I will try.

Because I’m not just a teacher. I’m so much more.