This has definitely been the "Summer Deferred." The kids got out of school on a Thursday (those unfortunate enough not to be exempt from exams and have finished the year two days earlier). Teachers' last day was Friday. A rare occurance, my grades were in on time, I was checked out with the early group, and my room was packed up and ready to abandon for the summer.
I was asked to teach Summer School. Now, I don't mean for that to sound like the prison sentence adolescent teens may view it to be. I had actually asked to teach, so for that opportunity, I was thankful. I was told that I would be teaching 12th grade, repeat and possibly new. I have never taught Senior English, never even looked inside the textbook, so for that opportunity, I was a bit anxiety-driven (perhaps terrified?). It was a lot of "old dead white guy" stuff, which is just not my genre. So I sketched out an overall curriculum, at least for the reading, but thankfully I didn't let myself invest too much time in it because when I went in the day before Summer School was scheduled to start I found out that my class didn't make (again)... and I wouldn't be teaching (again).
Last summer, I let this news devastate me and put a damper on the whole break. This year I tried very hard to go into it with the attitude though that there was a benefit either way, more money or more summer. I'm glad I asked to do Summer School so that decision was made for me and I didn't have to stress over it.
In the time between school ending and when Summer School was scheduled to start, I planned an over night trip to the Eastern Shore, with the primary goal to correct the boys' birth certificates. I had a tightly planned schedule of shopping at the Country House, going to The Red Rooster for crabs, and visiting the fireman's carnival... before I got to Salisbury and realized it was Sunday. The Country House was closed and the fireman's carnival, not running on Sunday anyway, had ended it's mini-season the night before.
We did hit The Red Roost though and spent an obscene amount of money on crabs, and on Monday we stopped by The Country House and visited The Salisbury Zoo. I like visiting Salisbury, it's reminiscent to see the places of my childhood and early adulthood/motherhood. It's interesting to see the way it's changed and grown. But having no family and not having kept in touch with any friends there, it doesn't have the feeling of "home." I'm not sure anywhere has *that* feeling for me.
Unfortunately, the primary goal of the trip was a bust. The office in Salisbury is not able to make any changes to birth certificates, only print copies. I have to go through the Baltimore office to get the names corrected. So, now I am investigating and weighing the options of driving to Baltimore versus mailing the paper work (again).