All You Can Eat, Carry, or Sell

We're rounding the clubhouse turn, and we're starting to smell the barn. This is my none-too-subtle reference to the end of the school year. It came on me all of a sudden this afternoon as we were cleaning up after our annual Dads' Club Pancake Breakfast. This one's in the can. Stick a fork in it, metaphorically, turn it over - it's done.
We start each year with the hopes of bringing new faces out to the Back To School barbecue in September. In October we gather together again to sell pumpkins for little or no profit, but we always have a shot at cleaning up the garden. This November we slipped in a new bit of fundraising that had us selling wrapping paper and scented soaps. After a little holiday respite, we're back to raising funds again, only this time we sell miniature pizzas and cookie dough. When that money is counted, we're ready for March and the Talent Show. April has us cleaning or constructing someplace to beautify or revitalized the school. Now it's May again and we're up at dawn getting ready all the sausages, eggs and pancakes that our community can hold down for only five dollars (three dollars for kids). Before the year is over, we'll have our little self-congragulatory celebration - patting ourselves on the back even as we start to count the days before we have to start counting burlap bags for the sack race next fall.
The rhythm of it amazes me sometimes. It has such a natural flow compared to the other side of my brain, the teacher side. Teachers don't have a continuum. Time runs out - eventually it always runs out. As a parent I follow the current from Kindergarten to First, First to Second, and the grades just stack up over time. I'll be planting trees in front of a middle school before you know it. But for now, we're putting our spatulas away and washing our aprons. File this one under 2005-2006, and we'll see you at the wrap party.