Tiny by Mrs. Augelli

This school year has been a unique one for me.  For the first time I am not just an elementary school teacher, but an elementary school parent.  This year my oldest child is a Kindergartener.  It’s been quite the experience being on “the other side” of the education equation.  

Recently, my daughter has started bringing home a baggie of books from school that she chooses from her classroom library.  We typically read them together or she pages through and looks at the pictures on her own.  

This weekend, I caught her curled up on the couch with her baggie of books.  As I stood in the doorway and listened, I realized she was not just looking at the pictures…She was reading!  Not only was she reading the words, but she was cracking up!  I’m talking belly laughs with tears streaming down her cheeks!  

Curious, I asked if I could join her. Through her hiccups and giggles she invited me over.  She eagerly reported that this was the funniest book she ever read because the dog in the book was absolutely “ENORMOUS”, but his name was…”TINY”!   (little kid humor at its finest!)

At that moment, my mind wandered back to her days as a newborn… struggling to grow and thrive like most babies do in their early months.  She was so very tiny.  Today, as I watched her become a reader, she seemed totally enormous.  

After I listened to her read the whole book, I was completely awe-struck.  All I could manage to say was… “When did you learn to read?! How did this happen?!”

These were silly questions, of course, because I’ve worked in elementary schools for years. I’ve been a classroom teacher. I’ve taught reading. I know exactly how it happened.

I’m sharing this story because, from the “other side” of the education equation I now feel, more than ever, the power and impact of our work.  

I hope you know all the tiny things you do every day to help your students learn and grow are actually not tiny at all…  they are, in fact, quite enormous.  

5555- Mrs. Lavallee

Bennett and I just walked into the house from our morning walk.  Bennett, our hound dog, and I really enjoy this time of day.  It’s quiet and peaceful, a pretty good workout for me, and more than a few cookies for him. 

When we get back to the house, all the winter gear comes off and Bennett gets a few more cookies.  I usually check my app to see if we made our 3 miles and how many steps were recorded.  On this particular morning, the app recorded 5,555 steps.  Pretty cool; WAIT! That would be an awesome cribbage hand!  This made me grin!!

My husband, Moe, and I enjoy regular (not cutthroat) games of cribbage.  Sometimes, just the two of us, other times with friends and/or family.  Either way, four 5’s would be awesome.  How many points can you get out of four 5’s?  What if the cut card was a JACK!  

We have many fond memories of playing at Vineyards, 4th of July at Tanglewood waiting for James Taylor, on the deck in Martha’s Vineyard, in airports, or even at the coffee table. We laugh, we giggle, we talk about points, and time flies while we are having fun!  I tried to count that hand, but ended up asking google; 28.  Will I ever see a hand like that while playing cribbage? 

Small Blessings- Mrs. Scudder

     2024 was supposed to be my lucky year. Twenty-four is my favorite number. Lily graduated from high school and was excited to go to Quinnipiac, her first choice. Megan spent a semester in Italy and had the time of her life. Lily and I went to visit her. And our whole family was so excited to go to Costa Rica. Jon’s dream trip. He loves wild animals so much, and could not wait to explore. Losing him was the most profound type of loss I have ever experienced. He was the most kind, generous, fun-loving person I had ever met. And he chose to love me and my children with all his heart. The grief we feel has no end. But soon after his passing I chose to find small blessings in my everyday world.

I was amazed at the love and support I felt from all my friends and family. My class is truly amazing; they make coming to work fun. So many people have made me meals, invited me out, let me cry on their shoulder, walked with me and my 3 dogs, helped me clean out my house and listened when I needed to talk.

Andy’s Kitchen has been a home away from home. During Covid we started getting takeout from there to support locally. One of Jon’s good friends, Tony, visited there so much that he began working there. This quickly led to Tony Tuesdays. Every Tuesday the guys would all head down there to share some drinks and laughs. We even had our Tony Tuesday women’s nights too. We all became fast friends and enjoyed our time together. When Jon died, they were all at Andy’s Kitchen when I texted them to let them know. Despite feeling their own grief, they banded together, picked us up from the airport and had food waiting for us. They wrapped us in their arms and let us cry on their shoulders. They helped me plan his celebration of life.

Jon’s picture sits at the bar and greets me whenever I walk in. The whole crew gives me hugs, and we laugh and cry together. Recently, they invited me for dinner. As always the food was delicious, and after they all presented me with a quilt. They had taken Jon’s shirts and had a beautiful quilt made as a keepsake for our family.

When Lily came home to take her finals virtually, I wrapped her in the quilt. When Megan returned home and was missing Jon, I wrapped her in the quilt. When I am feeling extra sad, I wrap myself in the quilt. Each shirt has a story. A trip we took, a team we loved to watch, his high school football shirt, a shirt I threatened to hide because it was old and ratty. 

January is especially difficult, as it is Jon’s birthday, followed by Connor’s birthday the next day, and mine the week after. We always celebrated together. This year is a big birthday for me and we had planned a big trip just the two of us. Instead, I planned a pizza party for him with all his favorite friends. I know this will be a sad week, but we are taking comfort in being with friends, and sharing all our favorite Jon stories. We will all wrap ourselves a little tighter in our quilt.

Lunch at Charlie's- Mrs. Forsberg

 When I was a child, my father often gave me this advice: Never go off with strangers, especially in a vehicle you’re not in charge of, and avoid going to places where you don’t know the destination.

However, during a recent trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, I broke all of those rules—and had the experience of a lifetime.

It was Christmas morning, and my wife, Denise, and I were on a local city bus heading to a small fishing town called Boca de Tomatlán. We were following the recommendation of a fellow hotel guest, someone who had spent many years in Puerto Vallarta, and planned to enjoy some pastoría there.

During our bus ride, we heard beautiful Christmas carols coming from the back of the bus, sung by two tenor voices. When we arrived at Boca, the final stop, the singers exited the bus with us. I approached them to express my gratitude for sharing their Christmas spirit through song. They blushed and smiled, and we struck up a conversation.

When they asked about our plans for the day, we shared that we were planning to eat in Boca and then return to our hotel. Their response was unexpected:

“Oh no, you’re not. You’re coming with us to a small town called Quimixto for lunch at Charlie’s.”

Denise and I exchanged uncertain glances but decided to embrace spontaneity. “What the heck,” we said, and off we went.

We made our way to the pier and boarded a water taxi—not one of the official ones, which were full of passengers and equipped with life preservers, but a smaller boat carrying just the four of us and no life jackets. Pushing off from shore, we headed into the unknown.

After a scenic boat ride, we arrived at Quimixto, a quaint village accessible only by boat or, on rare occasions, by foot during low tide. Dirt roads wound through the town, where dogs ran freely, children played, and barefoot residents greeted us with warm smiles and wishes of Feliz Navidad.

Our new friends, David and Tom, led us through the village. At one point, Tom stopped to buy a fresh coconut, its top expertly chopped off to make way for a straw. After savoring the coconut water, he generously shared the tender flesh with us. It was slimy but delicious—a much-needed snack, as we hadn’t eaten breakfast.

They assured us there were great places to eat ahead, including Charlie’s, but first, we began a hike. We could have chosen to go on foot, horseback, or by ATV, but since David and Tom opted to hike, we followed suit.

The trail led us up a mountain, across precarious suspension bridges with broken planks, and over a rushing river. My fear of heights tested me, especially as the bridges reminded me of scenes from Indiana Jones. Denise held my hand for support as we jumped from rock to rock, and soon we reached a breathtaking waterfall.

At the base of the falls, we found a cement platform where locals quickly set up chairs and tables for us. A small restaurant offered guacamole, margaritas, light snacks, and even a restroom. We stayed for about 20–30 minutes, soaking in the beauty and chatting with David and Tom.

As we began our hike back, hunger started to gnaw at us. Charlie’s was our destination, and the anticipation of an amazing meal kept us going. We passed through another small village, walked by a school, and saw free-range chickens, smiling faces, and festive piñatas decorating homes for the holiday.

When we arrived at Charlie’s, calling it a “restaurant” felt generous—it was more of a shack on the beach. We hesitated, wondering if eating there was wise so early in our trip, but we were soon blown away.

On Christmas Day, seated by the crashing surf (waves unlike anything I’d seen in Hawaii or California), we enjoyed an unforgettable meal: seared tuna, coconut shrimp, and margaritas that were nothing short of incredible.

Afterward, we hiked back to the dock where our boat awaited us. The ride back was thrilling, as the boat navigated the edge of the surf, and I held my breath each time the waves loomed.

Safely back in Boca, we exchanged contact information with David and Tom, thanking them for an unforgettable Christmas adventure. Over the remainder of our trip, we met up with Tom three more times, and each experience was as magical as the first.

Reflecting on my father’s advice, I can’t help but smile. While it’s wise to be cautious, sometimes breaking the rules leads to the most extraordinary memories.

Christmas Surprises- Mrs. Evans

It’s back!  Just like last year, I’m thrilled that we are doing this.  It is a great community builder, everyone really enjoyed reading the different submissions, and the feedback was fantastic.  

And, just like last year, as I sit to write my entry my mind starts to go blank.  That darn self-doubt starts to creep in ~ what can I share that people will find interesting, what can I write about that is long enough, why do I always make things harder than they need to be.  

So I started to follow the advice that we give our students.  I looked at what I wrote last year to get ideas.  I chuckled because I had a similar experience when I began my piece last year as well.  At the time, just putting words on the paper to get started was enough to get me going.  Fingers crossed that it has the same impact this year.  Here goes:

• Taylor Swift Concert

• Thanksgiving

• Christmas

It worked.  Christmas.  Our Christmas traditions are in a period of change.  Changes in family dynamics on both my side and Chris’ side of the family have us redefining how we spend our time with each other during the holidays.  It is a smaller crowd than years past.  We weren’t sure how it would all pan out ~ would we be bored, what would we do, how would we will all the time together?

As usual, all the fretting beforehand was for not.  The low key pace for Christmas was wonderful ~ and just what I needed.  We started Christmas morning with our usual gift opening.  Emily goes first.  Santa did not disappoint and continued the tradition of leaving his gifts to her in a scavenger hunt around the house.  (This year clues were left using “19 year old” terms.  The big guy got extra brownie points, as many of the phrases were right “on point” and needed to be explained to me, Chris, and my parents.  Rumor has it that AI might have been used as a translator. Regardless, it was fun.  But I digress.)

The rest of the family takes turns opening gifts in no particular order.  This year I went next.  We don’t really exchange many gifts as adults.  I typically get my photo calendar that I keep at work and one other thing.  This year there was a bonus box.  I was a bit intrigued.  What could it be?  Why did I have an extra gift?  What was going on?  I left that one for last.

As I tore open the corner of the package, I immediately started laughing.  Everyone was puzzled.  Why was I giggling, especially since I hadn’t unwrapped the whole thing.  What was so funny?  

It turns out that Chris and I got each other the same gift!  I knew it as soon as I saw the top of the box.  This was the first time we’ve ever done that in over 24 years of marriage and another 10+ years of dating.  As partial empty nesters, we are redefining our relationship.  We are making a conscious effort to do more things together ~ small things like taking Teddy for walks, catching up with friends, and going on date nights.  Sometimes it’s easy to come up with a plan of something to do and other times not so much.  I think that’s how we both ended up getting each other the Reach International Outfitters Connecticut Adventure Bucket List.  It has 50 things to do around the state with a variety of options:  indoor/outdoor, active/relaxing, summer/winter, few hours/all day.  You pick the town and the type of adventure you’re up for and scratch off the center square to see where you are headed.  

Opening this gift made me laugh, as I knew that the same thing was coming Chris’ way in just a few minutes.  What I treasure most about this small moment is that it was a wonderful reminder that after all these years we still like hanging out with other and continue to make our relationship a priority.  Afterall it is the people in our lives that are the real gifts of life.  

Now that I started, I could go on and on.  However, I’m going to end here.  

Ps.  I highly recommend signing up for the Slice of Life.  It wasn’t really nearly as scary once I started and it was a lovely memory to relive.  

A Break in the Conversation- Mrs. Meehan

 

NOTE TO ALL: I'm excited to launch the 2025 Slice of Life Writing Challenge for the Squadron Line Community. Rather than have an opening-themed slice of life, I decided to go with a more authentic story that happened recently. I hope you enjoy and are inspired to join in the writing. 

By the time the six of us sat down for breakfast, it was 9:30. For some people, that could seem about the perfect time to eat your eggs, but for my family, that's late. And we had already woken up at 4:30 to get to a special sunrise that was over an hour's drive. We had already huddled together on a mountaintop watching the kaleidoscope of clouds and the growing glow over the mountains. We'd even already completed a hike, exploring the inside of the crater as the sun rose over it. 

 And we'd lived through the winding drive both up to the summit and back down. 

                                            (Just a snapshot of the long and windy road!)

We were ready for food, and we were at a breakfast place that Julia, the morning planner, assured us would be one of the best we'd have. 

"What would you recommend?" Julia asked the waitress. 

"Anything you like," she said, dodging the decision. "Everything is good."

As we waited, we checked out the desserts available next to the cash register. Chocolate lava cake, lemon squares, passion fruit tarts. Coconut cream pie, oatmeal cookie sandwiches, and guava cheesecake... These became the talk of the table as we waited for our pancakes and eggs to arrive. 

"Everyone pick the two they would want to take home," Larkin said. "But don't say them. We'll try to guess."

We'd gotten through three of us when breakfast arrived. The waitress and Julia were right... everything was good and it was one of the best we'd ever had. 

After a few bites, my husband tried to restart the dessert game. "What ones would Clare choose?" he asked. 

Almost at the same time, but with various levels of emphasis, we let him know that the game was on hold. The forks were barely big enough to shovel this incredible food into our mouths, let alone consider slowing down for a conversation. He'd have to wait for the clean plate club to learn about dessert choices! 

Mrs. Meehan- Closing Thoughts

 Hi everyone, 

Thank you for writing and reading slices throughout the month, and if you were a commenter, an extra thank you! 

I’ve loved coordinating this effort, even more than I expected to. Yes, there were moments when I wondered if the energy would catch on, and there were moments when I felt like a nag or that people avoided me so I wouldn’t ask them to slice. Please don’t feel that way! Believe me, I understand how hard writing can be! 

That being said, the reflections that have come my way are share-worthy! Here are a few of them!

• I lived differently because I was trying to figure out what to slice! 

• I realized that there are slices everywhere if we are looking for them. 

• I understand and empathize with students more when they say they have nothing to write about. 

• It’s really hard to put yourself out there for peer review-- but that’s what we ask kids to do every day. 

• Writing scares me. 

Yes to all of these! Many posts touched me, but these two posts from Tootin’ teachers especially touched these sentiments. Both have given me permission to share them with you. 

• Silvie Fluckiger’s post where she tried to find the best way to begin her piece

• Jess Flaherty’s post about finding slices everywhere. This post is on a google doc since it won’t publish until later this week. 

There are a few teachers who have asked about continuing to slice with students. If this is something that interests you, please reach out to me. I’d be happy to connect students across the district and maybe even beyond. 

Thank you again for coming along on this adventure, not matter how you participated!

Melanie