The Ever-Increasing Flock

I couldn't believe my eyes.   On the church program yesterday, there was his name.  It had to be him.  How many names in the church could there be like his?  Not many, for sure, since his dad was a Dutch immigrant.  You've seen the Dutch names.  But anyway,  there he was in my nephew's ward.  We were visiting Craig and Lee-Ann since they were blessing their baby.

I taught this guy about fifteen years ago at Brighton High School in an LDS Seminary class.  Let me hasten to say I really did like him.  He was funny, for one thing, which always wins points with me.  But he did have ear piercings that you could see daylight through like the one to the right only not quite so huge.  And if you know what a "straight-edge" is, he was one of those.

The other kids really liked him too, I think, but they did cut him a wide berth since he was a little scary to them.

But there he was in church, with his cute wife and two little sons, saying the closing prayer, and looking smaller than I remember, I might add.  I hustled over to talk to him after the meeting and asked if he remembered me, and he did, though he said that was surprising since he didn't remember that many people from back then.  He was totally charming, too.

But I wasn't surprised to see him there.  I've seen it enough times before.  The first times were from my own high school days when kids, as goofy in their own ways as he was in his, turned things around and went on missions for the church and turned out to be great parents, adults and Sunday-go-to-meeting-Mormons.

But as a teacher, many former students were kind of disappointed when I was not too terribly surprised they turned out to be decent people too.  But it really happens far more often than it doesn't.  Sure, there are those poor souls who spend a lot of their lives wandering about aimlessly, or worse.

But most turn out to be quite commendable folks.  And I suspect that even those who do appear to be in trouble at any given time are still not dead, and it's not over till it's over.  The Good Shepherd does not lose his sheep and they were his long before they were ours.

Breakout

I've had it. Retirement is boring. I'm not prepared for it. It's not the money. I just have no hobbies, interests, activities that can sustain me through this.

I'm used to colleagues, other teachers and staff, hanging out in the school hallways and of course in class. I'm social. I'm a Yellow. I love people. And here I am, retired.

I'm planning to document what it is I'm doing just to make things better until I find my bliss. I know it's out there.

I'm also apologizing to all of you who have made legitimate suggestions. I just can't seem to do genealogy. I tried volunteering at a museum and that didn't ring the bell. I did give it a chance, too. I lasted a whole year. Some have suggested a mission which might be fine but I'm not sure my little heart is up to it. It does have its problems.

I have a couple of irons in the fire. One is this blog. Even if nobody reads anything, I'll still have it waiting. Another is a women's club with a book club that might not prove as narrow as those chosen in Relief Society book clubs. No offense should be taken as none is intended. I just like a little bit further branching outward and upward.

We'll see.