At Josie's school. It seems that the vast majority of parents choose to pick up their elementary students rather than have them ride the bus. Pick up is set for 2:45 and the line begins forming around 1:30 and stretches out to the highway.
Five cars at a time can proceed to the pickup area when signaled. Placards on the windshields give the name of the student being called for and, five at a time, they are escorted by five teachers or aides to the waiting cars. It is an Excruciatingly slow process but, in these days of caution, I don't have any suggestion to speed up the process.On Wednesday I got there around 1:45 and was maybe 15th or 20th in the line. On Thursday I decided to see just how early I'd need to get there to be first.1:30 put me 5th in line. A victory of sorts.The thing is, if one gets near the front there is a LOOONG waiting period BUT one can spend it reading rather than inching forward like the poor devils at the end of the line.
So I take a book and enjoy a quiet hour or more of reading. Currently I'm reading a book my grandmother had before she was married. It's charming in its very old-fashioned way--all about an idealistic young man working for his wealthy uncle. When the young man discovers his uncle in part of a swindle, he renounces the easy life and goes to work for an engineer (who happens to be wealthy and who has a beautiful daughter . . . well, you can see where this is going. When the young man saves the father's life, it's all over but the Wedding March.As I read, I remember all my grandmother did for me as I was growing up. "Someday you can drive me places," she once said. And I did.And I like to think I'm, in some way repaying the debt I owe to her and my grandfather and my parents by picking Josie up after school. (Also, staying useful, so I don't get put out on an ice floe, as the Inuit were said to do with useless elders.)