I wrote yesterday about how our school is operating during the week I've taken off to help manage my family's move, but yesterday I was in there for our Pre-3 class' parent meeting.
The first thing that caught my eye was this interesting composition on the bench in our boat:
Man, I want to know how this happened. Was it just one kid who did this? Two? A whole a gang?
Was there a shared story that went along with it or was it a silent, cooperative construction project like the one that broke out last week in the Pre-3 class?
It uses loose parts that I've not seen touched for months. Was my absence the cause of this or was it the different presence of Teacher Terry or Teacher Brooke, the parent-teachers in our cooperative who've been filling my role? Maybe an adult made it?
I don't need to know the how of it, of course, the fact that it's there at all is enough to be assured that children are learning and the school lives with our without me.
Inside, I found this, a sorting of the cutlery unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Usually it's all just tossed in there.
It raises the same mystifying questions and provides the same satisfying answers. This is the place I want to spend the rest of my life.
(Personal note: Today is the final day of my family's move. I'm sitting in my new living room surrounded by boxes, but the internet is already up and running so no more excuses!)