A Day in the Life ...

My Own url

2009-06-01T02:01:00.000-07:00

I have moved so many times, I can't keep up! Can you? This is where I hang my hat these days:

Quintessentially Quilly

Moved to Hawaii

2007-09-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Oahu: Paradise Vacation

Wordpress Plug

2007-01-28T14:19:00.000-08:00

Why I like Wordpress:
In the weeks I have been there, I've not experienced one outtage!
When you get email notification of a new comment on your post, it not only tells you which blog, it tells you which post!
When you write to tech support, you actually get support. They write back in less than 24 hours. And they don't act like you're an idiot -- even if you are an idiot.
You can edit comments. No more eternal spelling mistakes.
Their spam blocker works.
The post editing feature is awesome!
Wordpress supplies blog stats and feed stats on your dashboard.
Wordpress tells you when someone links to your blog.
Wordpress provides free pages.
Wordpress will import your archives from another blog! It is fast and painless.
Wordpress allows you to add your own post tags.
Comments are searchable and they come up in google searches!
One drawback:
You have to pay if you want to customize your template too much -- however, I have done plenty to make mine my own, and am happy with it.
You can now find me at:
Quilly's Ouips
The Grownups Wanted Us Dead
Bits of Me in Poetry

~Fini~

2007-01-10T11:24:00.000-08:00

I don't know why Blogger is refusing to paragraph the post below. I do know that I am tired of fighting to post. Ladies and gentlemen, Quilldancer has left the building. You will find me here: Quilly's Quips & Quotes, at Word Press. I haven't learned all I need to to be competent over there, but at least the mistakes will be my own! The blog has a new name, and a new look, but the content will remain the same. I hope to see you there!

Do-Gooder

2007-01-10T04:52:00.000-08:00

In 1996-97 I worked at The Center For New Directions on the LCSC campus in Lewiston, Idaho. I was a job coach for the Idaho State Welfare Dept. My primary job function, contracted through Americorps, was to aid in teaching resume writing and interviewing skills to welfare recipients and prison parolees (attending the class was mandatory for receiving welfare and/or probation). I got to pass out gems of wisdom such as: "Shower; use deodorant; less cleavage, more skirt; clean your fingernails, brush your teeth ... There was one young woman whose name I can't believe I have forgotten. She came into my class furious at Welfare's insistence she get a job and support herself. She said, "Having babies and living on welfare is my job. Both my momma and my grandma did it. Why can't I?" She was also the one, 6 weeks later, who came back from a job interview, sat down at my desk and started to cry. "They hired me, but I can't do this job!" The job was at a plant nursery. They wanted her to pour water and pull weeds. "Why not?" I asked. She wailed, "They expect me to go to work everyday!" Everyday? Pft. Fancy that. One of my first students was a very tall and wide, 22 year-old parolee named Gina. She bulled into my classroom, invaded my personal space and shouted from about 6 inches above my head, "I'm f-ing not taking this class and you f-ing can't make me." My short 36 year-old over-fed self was thinking: I'm f-ing dead. Still, I opened my mouth and calmly said, "You're right. I can't make you." She backed up about two steps and looked at me in surprise. "Are you f-ing kidding? I can leave?" I gestured toward the door, "It's not locked." She moved toward the door. I backed toward my desk. As her hand touched the door knob I picked up the telephone receiver. "Gina," I queried, "Would you remind me, please -- is your parole officer Tom or Mike?" She stopped. She turned around. She sat down at a desk and folded her hands. She also became one of my most enthusiastic students and my ever present body guard. When the other parolees would act up Gina would rise to her feet and snap, "Hey, Teach don't disrespect you. You don't disrespect her!" I know nothing of Gina beyond my year at the CND, but when I left, she had graduated from my class, gotten a job and enrolled in college. One of the last things she said to me was, "When I grow up, I wanna be a do-gooder like you."

The Flag That Stands For Freedom?

2007-01-09T06:33:00.000-08:00

Contrast these words: innocent until proven guilty, against these:

According to Pentagon officials, the US targets included several alleged al-Qaida members suspected of organising the attacks on US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998.

We are the terrorists. My soul hurts.

"They [the Americans] must have believed they knew where the al-Qaida suspects were. It seems they decided to kill everything within a certain grid square and then find out what they had hit."

These days I find it much harder to be proud of being an American.

And the Winner Is ...

2007-01-09T05:10:00.000-08:00

Despite the fact that I am not feeling well, I did a bit of cleaning yesterday. My strength soon left me and I quit without dragging the vacuum cleaner down the hall and putting it away. I just left it sitting near the love seat in the living room. This morning when I entered the living room, Chrissy was on her hind legs batting at Fluffy, who was on the love seat. I walked passed and told them to "play nice." They never listen. I sat down at the comp, typed in my email password and Fluffy let out an indignant yeowl. I looked up in time to see both cats collide in mid-air and land on the vacuum cleaner. One of them hit the power switch and the machine roared to life. Fluffy bounced off the entertaiment center and the wall in his mad dash for freedom. Chrissy made it from the living room to the kitchen and into my arms in two giant leaps. The vacuum cleaner is off. Has been for ten minutes. Fluffy is at the end of the hall giving his best vocal impression of a siamese warrior, and Chrissy is curled up next to my feet under the blanket I have over my legs. Occasionally I feel her tremble. I think it is safe to say that my darlings each scared away one of their nine lives today.

Do Not Disturb

2007-01-08T12:45:00.000-08:00

I took my allergy meds and had a short rest. I woke feeling much better and wandered to the kitchen for a bite of food. I then went back to get my novel and make the bed. I found this: And received this response when I asked him to move. He is curled up in a lovely sunbeam. And moving him just seemed mean, so he is still there and the bed remains unmade. But don't go getting the idea that that means my cat is spoiled.

Sick

2007-01-08T08:59:00.000-08:00

Going to bed. Somebody bring me some hot tea, please.

Wake Up, It's Monday

2007-01-08T04:24:00.000-08:00

Wake your brain with this: Four Comedians -- all with today's date in common: Who are they? 1.) Corporal Randolph Agarn 2.) Sidekick to both Roy Rogers & Gene Autry, and extreme irritant to Eddie Arnold. 3.) *Became famous playing a British cad: one such character was named: Lt. Col. Algernon Hawthorne 4.) A man of many voices who often had pie in his face. As a child his brothers called him, "Soup Bone." Extra Credit: Which two were born on this date in history? Which two died on this date in history? *Question three was modified after Doug graded my grammar and found me lacking.

Part 2 A ~Real~ Day in My Life ..

2007-01-07T04:40:00.000-08:00

This is the second half of a real day in my life, January 5th, 2007, which actually started on the previous blog entry. This is part 2. (See also:Part 1 and Part 1.5. 11:40 a.m. Bring students in from playground, try to take electronic attendance -- the network is still down. Grr... Argh! And that scraps my computer lab lesson plans. Okay. No habitat research online. Fine. We'll just move on to Social Studies and extend the period, then we'll transition to writing a little early and extend that period as well. 11:52 p.m. ran finger over laptop mouse and was surprised when the screen didn't light up. :( This comp is never off when I am at work. My lesson plans are in there! 1:07 p.m. I decide to do some grading while my students work on their writing. My grade book is electronic. Pft. 1:10 p.m. living dangerously -- I am about to open my novel and read while my students write. I hope they don't know that if I get really into the book, they could all get up and leave without me noticing. 1:24 p.m. Cindy comes to me and says, "I can't spell inbaressed. It isn't in the dictionary." I said, "It starts with e-m." She said, "Why? That's silly." "Embarrassed," I said slowly. "E-m. Trust me." "Okay," she said, "I'll look, but I'm sure you're wrong." She went back to her seat. I watched her flip the dictionary pages. She stopped, ran her finger down the page, stopped again, then looked up at me in surprise. Fancy that. Teacher is right. 1:48 p.m. Still no Internet. I forgot to go to the bathroom at lunch time and there are still 51 minutes to break. Argh! 2:15 p.m. the NCLB tutor students leave for their special class. 2:17 p.m. the NCLB special tutor students return to get their tutoring notebooks and pencils. 2:32 p.m. We've been listening to Mr. Texas-Drawl through the wall for over 45 minutes. He hasn't stopped talking. I wonder when his kids have any time to get their work done. Mr. Texas-Drawl comes through the door talking. He gives my class the Vince Lombardo-Jim Valvano speech he just gave his own. We all stare at him in shock. He ltells a joke, laughs at it all by himelf, then leaves the room as abruptly as he arrived. 2:40 p.m. I tell my students to "Clean it up and get ready to go." Chaos ensures for 60 seconds while bags are packed, chairs are stacked and the homework assignment is repeated 16 times. My kids march off to P.E. I march off for my daily professional development class. 3:30 p.m. bell rings, kids leave, silence falls 3:35 p.m. I look at my laptop and realize I could have used the computer any time I liked. All I had to do before I turned it back on was unplug from the school network and Internet. I was told to turn it off. I turned it off. How can I expect to teach the kids to think when I just blindly follow orders? 4:00 p.m. home, check the net, change my clothes, head for the gym. 4:35 p.m. weigh-in. My weight stayed exactly the same. I think that is pretty good considering the holidays. I didn't lose, but I didn't gain, either. I lost a few more inches, and my body fat dropped three-tenths of a percent. Not great strides, but any loss is better than a gain. 4:50 p.m. exercise routine (45 minutes), and then home for the evening. A little dinner, a little Internet, a little novel reading, and bed. I hope you enjoyed this day in my life.

A ~Real~ Day in My Life ...

2007-01-06T05:29:00.000-08:00

Since my blog is titled, "A Day in the Life ..." I thought I'd share one with you -- that is, one full day in my life. Here is January 5th, 2007, in detail -- which actually started on the previous blog entry: 6:50 a.m., arrive at school. Prep class for morning lessons. Check email. Start this log. 7:46 a.m. a CCSD maintenance duo just came through. They explained that they are here in response to an A/C work order. It was dated August. I assured them we don't want air. They are next-door in Mrs. Whiner's room working on the thermostat. I am worried. 7:55 a.m., the CCSD maintenance duo return to my room. "Ma'am, how has your classroom temperature been this week?" I answer quickly and enthusiastically, "Perfect." The men look at each other. One of them nods. The other says, "Okay." They go to my thermostat box and make adjustments. Finally they turn to leave. As they walk out the door one calls back over his shoulder, "You should be warmer soon." 7:59 a.m.; I tell the AP about the above encounter. He admonishes me. "What is the matter with you? You should have lodged a complaint! That they would have ignored." He's right, you know. 8:06 a.m., Jasmine is absent. It is her job to turn the TV on for student broadcast (wholly student run daily school news production, Pansy Petite is the producer). I said, "Someone turn the TV on." Cindy grabbed the remote and pushed the power button. Nothing happened. She pushed the power button again. Again. Again. No TV. She asked for fresh batteries. I told her I'd just changed those before Winter Break. She wailed, "But they don't work. Now what do we do?" Jose said, "Oh, gee, let's try this." He walked over to the TV and pushed the power button. The picture emerged. Cindy said, "I'd never have thought of that." I told her I didn't think I was going to be able to pass her to 6th grade. 8:21 a.m., broadcast ended. I said, "Could we turn the TV back off?" Jake reached out, grabbed the remote Cindy had left on his desk, pointed it at the TV, pushed the button -- and the picture disappeared. Cindy burst out, "That's just not fair!" 8:26 a.m., the PA system clicks on, music fills the room, that is our signal that it is time to transition to Reading class. I tell my students to hand in their math pop quiz. My students sit at tables. Handing in their papers simply means passing them to the end of their table and waiting for me to walk by and pick them up. This helps keep them neat and save confusion. As I picked up the last stack of papers I glanced down. There was no name on the top paper. Nothing unusual there. I recognized the handwriting. "Jon, you've forgotten to put your name on your paper again." I hand it back to him as a chorus of dismayed, Oh's!" filled the room. A half dozen kids rushed over and rifled through my tidy paper pile .... 8:30 a.m., Isaac enters reading class. "It is cold," he says. "May I shut the door?" I tell him no, not everybody is here. Two minutes pass as kids straggle in. Isaac repeats, "I am cold. May I shut the door?" We are still missing six students or so. I say, no. Moments later the last few students enter the room. I am sitting in my oral reading chair. The class is clustered on the floor at my feet. Isaac included. It is very cold in the room. I look at him and say, "Isaac, what's the matter with you? Were you born in a barn? For pete's sake, go close the door!" The class laughs. Isaac gets up and stomps to the door, grumbling, "All right! All right! All right! Make up your mind already!" Door closed he turns back, irrepressible Isaac-grin upon his face. "Anyway, who's Pete and why does he get to have the door closed?" I answer, "Pete is my favorite student and he gets to have the door closed because I like him." More laughter. Isaac pretends to pout. 9:27 a.m. -- no Internet access. 9:44 a.m., Isaac said he couldn't find the answer to question three on his reading comprehension check sheet. I told him I was certain he would find the answer if he read page 33 of the text. He responds with disgust, "I have to read the story?" Sam pipes up, "Do I have to read it, too?" Uhmmm, yes. That would be why we call it reading class. I refrain from twapping both of them. 9:56 a.m., the hot glue gun, despite being plugged in for 20 minutes, won't dispense the glue. I push on the glue stick, hard. Hot glue squirts out of the gun and splatters all over the computer screen. No glue will come out on the back of my poster. Note to self: Do not buy another 99 cent glue gun. Pft. 10:03 a.m., still no Internet connection. 10:15 a.m., math class, the students need tape measures. I remember that they are in the bottom bin of the three storage bins stacked behind the television stand. Joy. 10:19 a.m., students measuring various body parts with tape measures. After they are finished we will compare the shortest child in the class, Pansy Petite, with the tallest child in the class, Jon. Following that, I will tell them about old-fashioned measurements (handfuls, arm spans, paces) and ask them how accurate they would be from person to person. (Could Jon and Pansy follow the same recipe and get the same outcome? What if they were measuring material or pacing off a boundry?) Then I will start the Math unit on standard measurement. 10:26 a.m. STILL no Internet connection 10:31 a.m. Jake approaches me as I am working with the two Cindys. He says, "Can I go to the bathroom?" I answer, "I don't know. Do you know how?" He responds, "Huh?" One of the Cindys says, "May I please go to the bathroom?" Jake responds, "Hey! I asked first!" I don't think he'll be passing 5th grade, either. 10:44 a.m., Dave, Jose & Rico approach my desk, tape measure in hand. "Ms. A." Dave says, "We measured the centimeters, but the millimeters are too small to count." I said, "You measured the centimeters?" They nodded. "Well then, why don't you just multiply them by 10 to get the millimeters?" "Oh yeah!" Dave says, "Just like in math class!" I refrain from twapping him. 10:51 a.m. STILL no Internet. At 11:20 when I am relieved of duty for an hour (lunch and prep perios), I am going home! A body can't be expected to survive in these primitive circumstances! Btw, it is cold in my classroom. 11:22 a.m. Mrs. B. walked through my door to teach my students for 40 minutes and I shot off campus like a crossbow arrow -- cognizant all the way home that a speeding ticket would keep me from the net. 11:32 a.m. home: I placed a phone call to a friend -- two minutes later than our appointed time. It usually only takes me 7 minutes to get home, but since I was hurrying it took longer. Pft. 12:29 p.m., I return to my classroom in time to hear the PA reminder that all computers should have been shut done 5 minutes earlier for the server repairs. There are seven computers in my classroom. I can tell at a glance that all are on. I cross the room and pull the main power cord. Off. Well, six of them anyway. I was a bit more gentle with my beloved laptop. If you enjoy this, I will post the remaining adventures of the day later this weekend.

Twilight Zone

2007-01-05T07:00:00.000-08:00

6:40 a.m., driving to work: between distorted black clouds, the sky is laden gray. The moon still hangs above the western mountains. Because of a heavy cloud bank, the sun has yet to come up, an eerie phenomena in this, the land of perpetual sun. The wind is gusting up to 18 miles per hour. A plastic trash can ran the red light at Las Vegas Blvd. and Cheyenne Ave., causing an SUV to swerve, narrowly missing my front end. Both the Internet and the heat are working in my classroom at the same time. I have a feeling this is going to be a Chris Van Allsburg sort of day. NOON -- update: The net is down at work. I had to come home at lunch time for an email fix.

Intermittent Internet

2007-01-05T05:15:00.000-08:00

At work yesterday the Internet chose to behave in a despicable manner, taking up to 40 minutes to load a page. A little after one o'clock in the afternoon, the system crashed altogether. I guess they don't realize that a couple of months ago I started to mainline my email and only disconnect when I absolutely have to. (Okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration, I refuse to put email on my cell phone. Then I'd never get anything done!) At any rate, my work friends know how I feel about my Internet connectivity, so I got a lot of teasing yesterday. Mr. Texas-Drawl opened the connecting door between our rooms shortly after the system expired completely. I was at the board teaching math. "Oh, good!" He said. "You're still standing. I was certain I would have to call 911." Today, with the unknowing (I stole it) help of my friend, Bill, who calls himself, "Old Fart," (I refuse to, he is younger than I), I present my intervention strategies: click on image to enlarge

Getting It Write

2007-01-04T16:33:00.000-08:00

I really do love teaching. When I am in the classroom interacting with the students, life is good. Today's writing prompt was:

There are many exciting people in the world. Tell about one.

I wrote the prompt on the board and then displayed a poster board with a non-example on it. I read the prompt, then I went to stand next to my student, Cindy, and read the poster:

My friend, Cynthia, is very exciting. She is in the fifth grade, has brown hair and brown eyes and is a good student. I like her a lot.

Finally I asked: Would that be an acceptable paragraph? The class chorused, "No!" So far, so good. I asked, "Why not?" Rick said, "It wasn't long enough." Moses said, "No! No! Cynthia is not your friend, she is your student." The little voice in the back of my head said, Oh yeah, this is going well. Then Jasmine raised her hand. "Your paragraph is boring," she announced. Finally, my little voice chanted, but I pretended shock. "Boring? What do you mean?" Jasmine said, "The prompt wants to know something exciting about Cindy. You just listed a bunch of ordinary facts." "Oh!" I exclaimed, over-acting as usual. "So, what do I need to do to make the paper more exciting?" Jon, who sits beside Cindy, looked over at her and drawled, "First, choose another person ..." The class laughed and Jasmine waved her arm frantically. "Choose me! Choose me!"" "Can't," I answered. "It says amazing person, not obnoxious person." Jasmine responded with her standard open-mouthed, wide-eyed -- Who me? -- head shake. "You have a problem?" I asked her. "You just called me obnoxious! You can't do that!" Jasmine over-acts, too. We make a great team. I responded with a question, "Weren't you the kid that just came to my desk and asked me 473 questions in less than three minutes, while I was trying to read?" Jasmine tried to hold her indignant pose, but cracked up laughing. I nodded my head at her. "Yep. See. I win. Obnoxious." Jasmine turned to Pansy Petite. "Ms. A. always wins, but someday I'll get her!" Pansy nodded her head, "You just keep believing that," she said. And then she rolled her eyes.

Re-educating Squirrels

2007-01-04T06:38:00.000-08:00

And when you finally get off the wheel, you sip from the chrome nipple, grab a kibble and snuggle down in your bed of wood shavings ...

That was a comment on the post beneath this from a friend whose intent, I'm certain, was to entertain me after a long and hectic day of teaching. Unfortunately after reading it, I read the news article just below and the two mingled together in my mind, triggering my ever increasing sense of futility.

Nevada Near The Bottom In Education Survey 01-04-2007 4:41 AM (Reno, NV) -- Nevada ranks near the bottom in a new national report on education. The "Quality Counts" report by "Education Week" magazine ranks Nevada 44th out of the 50 states when it comes to such issues as student proficiency in math and reading, and for relatively low graduation rates. Nevada also ranks low when it comes to a student's chance of going through school and college on the way to a good-paying job. But state education officials say Nevada's results are skewed by the fact that the Las Vegas Valley makes up nearly 80 percent of the state's student body. The Clark County School District is the fifth-largest in the nation, and is dealing with such issues as tremendous growth and a rising non-English student population. Copyright 2007 Metro Networks Communications Inc., A Westwood One Company

Research in second language learners tells us that it takes students an average of five years to consistantly comprehend a casual conversation in English. Research further indicates that it takes another two years to for the second language learner to be able to wholly comprehend academic language. Despite reams of research gathered over the past couple of decades, our esteemed government, lead by our Fearful Leader, Dubya, passed the No Child Left Behind Act, demanding that every child in a U.S. school be fully competent in English within three years of enrolling in the system. On one hand, I suppose I should be pleased that my government has so much faith in my ability to teach. Unfortunately I can't enjoy that delusion because I know where the real learning difficulty lies, and I don't have access to the Oval Office. If you are interested in reading more on this topic read: No Child Left Behind, One Teacher's Perspective and/or FP Update: Must Be Spring, The Teachers Are Leaving

Tired

2007-01-04T04:36:00.000-08:00

Our school day is arranged in such a way that I have two 40 minute work periods per day without my students. For one 40 minute work period, I am free to grade papers, make photocopies and do whatever else needs doing. For the other 40 minute work period I am required to attend a professional development class. The classes focus on our currirulum and programs. The classes are designed to make us better at our jobs. These classes rotate in 10 day cycles. Every ten days I spend 40 minutes with my team going over the math curriculum. Every ten days I spend 40 minutes with my team going over the science (social studies, reading, etc.) curriculum. Every ten days I facilitate the Writing Curriculum meetings. This means I plan the lesson, prepare the materials and present them to three individual groups of teachers. My day looks like this: 7:00 a.m. arrive in the classroom and make certain all is ready for the day 8:00 a.m. whole school assembly on the playground 8:15 a.m. in classroom, morning "warm up" on the board, TV on to the school news, students eating breakfast (whole school 100% free breakfast in the classroom every morning) 8:30 a.m. pass the sub at the door and head for Kindergarten Writing Class -- teach teachers 9:10 a.m. return to class, pass the sub at the door and pick up threads of the reading lesson -- teach students 10:05 a.m. reading students leave, math students arrive -- at same time pass sub at the door and head for the Second Grade Writing Class -- teach teachers 10:45 a.m. return to class, pass the sub at the door and pick up threads of the math lesson -- teach students 11:20 a.m. -- meet with the Principal about Writing Professional Development Classes 11:40 a.m. - 12:30 p.m. student free work period and lunch 12:30 p.m. -- pass the sub at the door and head for First Grade Writing Class -- teach teachers 1:10 p.m. return to class, pass the sub at the door and pick up threads of the science lesson -- teach students (then transition to writing & afterward Social Studies) 2:40 p.m. -- take students to P.E., attend 5th grade writing team meeting 3:25 p.m. pick students up from P.E., return students to classroom to gather all personal possessions 3:30 p.m. walk students to the gate and wave good-bye Normally, that should be it, but on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I tutor after school. So yesterday: 3:30 pm. prepare tutoring lessons 3:45 p.m. pick up students in gym -- teach (Math: mean, median, mode, minimum, maximum & range) 5:15 p.m. return students to gym -- hand them over to parents, wave good-bye 5:25 p.m. off the clock -- finally Tired -- not so much from the time spent, or the activities, but all the gear switching. What time is it? Where am I? And where should I really be?

Detour

2007-01-03T05:28:00.000-08:00

If you want a good belly laugh, go here and read this: Of Long Drops, Land Crabs, and the Prerequisites for a Life in Science. I'm still wiping my eyes and trying to breathe after laughing so hard. Besides, I got nothing for you today but the silly meme in the post below.

Another Meme

2007-01-03T04:57:00.000-08:00

I did something like this Meme recently, but I'm tired and my brain isn't up to being clever. Plus this is going to be a doozy of a day. This is the 10th day of the teaching cycle so today I will be in and out of my classroom, teaching teachers part of the time and students part of the time. After school I will tutor. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays I got to work at 7 a.m. and get off at 5:30 p.m. That's a hard way to begin after an extended vacation. Anyway, this thing came to me in my email from my dear (non-blogging) friend, Angela. 1. Do you have any nicknames? I am not telling you guys. And my sisters will be quiet! (An observant person could figure it out, searching my blogs.) 2. What is your favorite drink? water 3. Tattoos? no way 4. Any piercing? Ears -- long since grown closed 5. How much do you love your job? depends on what day it is 6. Favorite vacation spot? mountains 7. Ever been to Africa? Nope 8. Ever steal any traffic signs? no, but I stole a traffic cone once 9. Ever been in a car accident? Yes 10. How many doors does your car have? 4 11. Salad dressing? Ranch 12 Favorite number? 7 13. Favorite holiday? Christmas 14. Favorite food? Chicken 15. Favorite day of the week? Sunday 16. Favorite brand of body soap? not picky 17. Favorite Tooth Paste? Tom's All Natural 18. Favorite smell! lilacs 19. What do you do to relax? read 21. How do you see yourself in 10 years? much thinner 22. What do you do when you are bored? bored? What is bored? 23. Furthest place you will send this message? the outer reaches of the blogosphere 24. Who will respond fastest? You are not tagged! 25. Put an X in front of all the things you have done. Remove the X from the things you have not. In your life have you ever: (x) Smoked a cigarette (x) Drank so much you threw up ( ) Crashed a friend's car ( ) Stolen a car (x) Been in love (x) Been dumped (x) Been laid off/fired (x) Been in a fist fight ( ) Been shot at ( ) Been stabbed ( ) Snuck out of your parent's house (x) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back. (x) Gone on a blind date (x) Skipped school ( ) Seen someone die (x) Been to Canada ( ) Been to Mexico (x) Been on a plane (x) Been lost (x) Been on the opposite side of the country (x) Swam in the ocean (x) Felt like dying (x) Cried yourself to sleep ( ) Played cops and robbers naked? ( ) Recently colored with crayons ( ) Sang karaoke (x) Paid for a meal with only coins (x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't(Who hasn't?) (x) Made prank phone calls (x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose (x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue (x) Danced in the rain (x) Written a letter to Santa Claus ( ) Been kissed under the mistletoe (x) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about or love (x) Blown bubbles (x) Made a bonfire on the beach ( ) Crashed a party (x) Gone roller-skating (x) Gone ice-skating Oh, and Angela? I enjoyed this much more than I enjoyed the Wendy's Frosty in my shoe!

Hi Ho, Hi Ho & Other Parades

2007-01-02T05:29:00.000-08:00

It's off to work I go. Bleh .... You know, when they pay you to stay home (vacation), it is awfully hard to muster the energy to return to work. Lately I've been up every morning an hour and a half before the alarm. This morning I almost slept clear through. Why is that? WORK! That's why. The good news is, I love my students and all will fall into place when I see their smiling faces. Right? Yesterday I was featured on, The Bestest Blog of All-Time, as a "rerun" Monday. My repeat 24 hours of fame brought me twice as many hits as my first run! On Sunday evening 132 people skipped by my blog. On Monday, 529 people passed through. Out of all those people, only my regular peeps and three new people posted. It was rather like having a New Year's Day parade pass thorugh the living room -- except they weren't waving! (Just as well! Can you imagine answering all those comments!) Oh yeah, WORK! Better run ...

New Year's Memories

2007-01-01T07:54:00.000-08:00

New Year's Day, 1982 found me living in a 10 x 15 cabin 17 miles above Victor, Montana. There was no running water, no electricity and the heat was provided by a wood burning stove in the corner of the main room. Snow rose to the windows. The bathroom was out the door and down the path. A squirrel had nested between the cealing and the beams, and he would toss nut shells at us as we attended our business. The insult was that we had given him the nuts in the first place. The only other building on the property was the barn -- glorious, new, much bigger and in much better condition than the house. The day dawned bright and clear. The thermometer rose to a whopping 37 degrees, a welcome change from subzero weather. We went outside in our shirt sleeves to split and haul more firewood before the next cold front. As we worked, a power truck rolled across the cattle guard and pulled up in front of the cabin. A driver emerged, clipboard in hand, and asked where he could find our power meter. I told him we didn't have one. He tapped his clipboard. "It says right here you do. I'll just be looking for it if you don't mind." I shrugged my shoulders and told him to go right ahead. My companion suggested that if he found a power meter, he please tell us where. We kept working. The power guy circled the house, the outhouse, and the barn. He came back and asked for permission to check inside the out buildings. I told him to help himself. He poked around in the barn a bit -- even climbed the ladder and looked in the loft. I showed him the interior of our two room shack. Finally, he walked the fence line and then returned to where we were working and pronounced, "You people don't have electricity!" Shortly after the power truck slid down the hill and out to the main road, a car that had no business climbing our drive in that kind of snow rolled in. We quit working and walked toward it. A young woman emerged. She said, "I am lost and I simply must use your facilities." She walked straight to the house and opened the door without so much as a by-your-leave. My companion and I looked at each other in shock. I shrugged. Seconds later she popped back out the door. "Where is your bathroom?" She demanded. My companion pointed toward the outhouse. The woman spun on her heal and marched toward it. The squirrel followed her, hopping from tree to tree. I turned to my companion. "Should we tell her?" My companion shook his head. "Nope." She opened the outhouse door as the squirrel scampered over the roof. We heard a loud chatter, a startled scream and the girl came running back up the path. "I don't have to go that bad!" She yelled, then dove into her car. Just before she fishtailed down the drive, my companion yelled at her, "Turn left at the main road and go straight!"

Suddenly Popular

2007-01-01T06:39:00.000-08:00

I glanced at my sitemeter and thought it must have freaked out. There is no way I had over 100 visits in two hours so early in the morning on New Year's Day. I clicked on the numbers to check my statistics. Whoa! Eleven people reading my blog all at the same time? No way. I pinched myself, then I checked my pulse. I wondered if I was dreaming. How the heck did I suddenly become so popular? That's when I got the email from Bobby. The light dawned. Here's a wave to all you folks from The Bestest Blog of All-Time, and a special thanks to Alessia for reviewing my blog. Happy New Year!

Start as You Plan to Continue

2007-01-01T04:48:00.000-08:00

Start the new year the way you plan to continue. Many people start theirs with love and family and laughter. Still others start by drinking to excess. There are too many who start the new year in need and look toward the future with dispair. Because of them, I started my new year in prayer. However you started this new year, my prayer for you is that all of your needs and some of your wants are met, and that you realize a few of your dreams. Happy 2007.

Happy New Year

2006-12-31T05:28:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve -- a time of renewing? I was 26 years old the last time I made a New Year's resolution. I resolved not to save resolution making for New Year's Day, but instead to make my fresh starts whenever they were needed. Base your goals for 2007 not on what day of the year it is, not on what image you want to present to the world, not on what someone else thinks you should do; base your goals on who you are, and what you need to accomplish to remain true to yourself. Anything else is doomed to fail, no matter what day of the year it is. And remember, you don't have to pin all of your hopes on this one day. The sun comes up on brand new possibilities every single morning. Happy 2007!

Need a Hero?

2006-12-31T05:10:00.000-08:00

This is just too funny! I picked it up from my friend, Ilona's blog.

What Fantasy Archetype Are you?
The Unlikely Hero You are the Unlikely Hero! Others like you are Frodo (Lord of The Rings), Young Aurthur (arthurian Legend), Luke Skywalker (Star Wars), Peter/Susan/Edmund/Lucy (Narnia), Richard Mayhew (Neverwhere), Harry Potter (Harry Potter) and Richard Cypher (Wizard's first Rule). You were happy to just live out your life as a peaceful schoolboy/farmer/wood's guide. But alas, greatness was thrust upon you. Don't let the hordes of The Totally Wicked Villain get you down, you have your Seasoned Veteran Friend to protect you and you almost always end up with the Pillar-of-Strength Love interest. Heed you Mentor well and keep your chin up, hero! You are simple, humble and kind but possess great potential for truly inspirational heroism, bravery and strength in dark times.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

At The Tone The Time Will Be ...

2006-12-30T04:26:00.000-08:00

... half-past turning off the computer and going out to play. These days I am up before the sun and my common sense. My attention span seems to be on vacation. This morning my mind is curiously blank. This is all you get. Oh, and a bit of advice: Turn off the computer and go outside. Meet a friend for lunch. Do a systems check to see if you can still communicate without a keyboard. But afterward, please be sure and come back to tell me how it went.

Wasabi Miscommunication

2006-12-29T05:27:00.000-08:00

I like horseradish sauce and I like hot mustard, so it only makes sense that I would enjoy wasabi, the Asian blending of both; however, given it's nature, it is best to enjoy wasabi in minuscule amounts. Last night while I was eating sushi with wasabi for dinner, I was reminded of a communication meltdown between a lovely church lady and a poor street woman. Pastor liked to bring unusual foods to the Wednesday night Bible Study and entice people to try something new. One night he brought a very large deli platter of assorted sushi. The platter included a bed of shredded ginger with a scoop of wasabi nestled on it. When every one finished eating, the table was still laden with food. Only four people, including the Pastor and I, had eaten any of the sushi and wasabi, so most of it remained. Shortly after we finished eating, yet before we started Bible Study, a homeless woman entered the church and asked if we had something she could eat. We gave her a plate and pointed her toward the table. Pastor told her to help herself to anything she wanted. The woman went to the table and piled her plate high with fried chicken, potato salad and other tasties. As she came to the end of the line, she had no interest in the sushi, but then she saw the wasabi. "Guacamole!" She exclaimed. Grabbing a serving spoon, she scooped it all up. One of the good church ladies, anticipating disaster, shouted, "Don't take all of that!" She rushed toward the homeless woman. The homeless woman shouted back, "Pastor said I could have it!" And she shoveled the entire spoonful into her mouth. Wasabi fumes alone can put a hitch in one's lungs, a mouthful of the stuff can freeze them altogether. The homeless woman's eyes filled with tears. She gasped for breath and clutched at her chest. Someone pressed a glass of water into her hand. She gulped it down. And another. Finally her tears slowed. Her face regained it's normal color. The good church lady who precipitated the disaster said, "Are you alright?" The homeless woman screeched, "You tried to kill me!" And then she refused to eat anything at all. "You people are crazy!" She shouted as she ran from the church.

The Extra Little Girl

2006-12-28T04:45:00.000-08:00

Today for your reading pleasure, I direct you to: The Grownups Wanted Us Dead, where you can read about:

The Extra Little Girl I moved in the middle of 1st grade. I remember standing in the doorway of my new classroom, Gram's hand clenched in mine. The desks formed a perfect square - the same number across as down. The teacher's name was Mrs. Baker. Soon I would no longer have a name.

Paradigm Shift

2006-12-27T09:51:00.000-08:00

It has nothing to do with being unappreciative, but I have a Christmas gift that remains unopened. It is a box of chocolates. What is remarkable about the fact that the box remains unopened, is that as a rule, chocolate is my weakness -- yet I am not compelled to remove that wrapping .... I assure you, in the past I would have had a chocolate covered yummy in my mouth within seconds of being gifted. I'd like to tell you what caused this miraculous change, but I think it truly was a miracle. It began with a fall from my porch, followed by an accidental glimpse of myself in a department store mirror -- and instantly my lifestyle paradigm changed. I no longer crave carbs. Chips and chocolates no longer seductively whisper my name. I enjoy exercise! Even at my worst, I have always been active. I never lost the ability to bend over and tie my shoelaces, or touch my fingers to the floor, but I was slower, and shorter of breath than anyone my age should be. However, regular exercise has increased my stamina, my attitude, and lung capacity. I am hoping soon it will help me get rid of a few of my insecurities. Take a look at the heart rate chart: I tend to keep myself in the 80% zone. I can actually feel a thin person inside of me trying to get out. I have my stats taken once a month. My next official weighing and measuring is January 2nd. I'll keep you posted.

Fluffy's & Chrissy's Wordless Wednesday

2006-12-27T04:45:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Christmas!

2006-12-26T05:45:00.000-08:00

Hello. My name is Christmas and today I am one year old. Yep, just one year ago today my cat momma had me C-section. It only cost my people momma $330.00. Of course, some of that was for my brother and sister, so if you average it out, we only cost $130.00 each. That's not bad, right? (Why does my people momma choke whenever I say that?) I was born no bigger than my people momma's thumb. I was pink and shivering and had no hair. The vet said I wouldn't live. Funny, I look pretty healthy, don't I? My left rear leg isn't very strong. I have a little problem with my balance and sometimes I just tip over for no reason. I can still run and play, but I don't jump as well as other cats. My people momma loves me anyway. You may pay homage and sing Happy Birthday to me.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-23T06:21:00.000-08:00

The whitest Christmas of my life was the winter of '68-69. That was the winter I learned to bake. I was nine years old. The house was warm and fragrant and Gram and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. It was my job to roll the Snickerdoodle balls in cinnamon and sugar. I got to make the crisscross pattern on the peanut butter cookies with a sugar coated spoon. I rolled the dough and cut the cinnamon rolls into perfect rounds with a piece of white cotton thread. I very much enjoyed making those treats -- I would have enjoyed eating them, too -- except Gram kept packaging them up and giving them away. That particular winter lives in my memory for many reasons. And even though I was often wet and cold from playing outside, for some reason my memories of that time are as warm as hot chocolate and melty marshmellows. See for yourself: At, The Grownups Wanted Us Dead .... ... walk atop frozen snow. ... ride on a cardboard sled. At, Matthew 28:19 ... ... enjoy a little Good News

Christmas Cookies

2006-12-22T12:01:00.000-08:00

I lived with my sister, Caryl, the first Christmas after her husband died. Nothing was going to make that year better for my niece, Kellie, and nephews, Kenny and Lenny, but I did everything I could to keep some cheer in their lives. I often packed their school lunches and put special treats in the boxes. That day's treat was often the first thing each child exclaimed about as he or she came through the door at the end of the school day. As is traditional in my family, Christmas found me doing a lot of baking. When I made the rolled and cut sugar cookies, I hit upon the idea of not just decorating them, but painting them and making them trully beautiful. I made buttercream frosting in a half-dozen different colors, and I painted the Christmas trees green with brown trunks and yellow stars. I decorated them in multico;ored sprinkles. Santa's sled was red, the runners were gold, and the presents inside came in many hues. I painted and sprinkled stars, angels, bells, and more -- each with an eye to detail. The house smelled like cookies when the kids came home from school. I gave them undecorated cookies and the left over frosting so they could design their own after school snacks. The cookies I had decorated were hidden. That night, after the kids went to bed I took out the hidden cookies, wrapped them carefully, and placed them with love in each lunch box. The next day I waited anxiously by the door when, Lenny, a kindergartener only in school a half day, was due home. Sure enough, he burst through the door, his face shining with joy. He cried, "Aunt Charlene! Aunt Charlene! Your cookies were the best!" Naturally I beamed with pride. He thrust out one gubby little hand with an ancient yellow yo-yo clasped in his fist, "I traded them for this!" Before my ego completely crumbled I reminded myself that I'd made the cookies to make him happy, and they had obviously been a success. Then he added frosting to my contentment by asking anxiously, "You still have some of them cookies left don't you? Can I have some?"

Christmas Meme

2006-12-22T07:34:00.000-08:00

I lifted this from Cindra: 1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both, but I recycle gift bags and use em' till they fall apart. 2. Real tree or artificial? neither, not since I've lived alone 3. When do you put up the tree? don't 4. When do you take the tree down? see above 5. Do you like eggnog? Yum, but in moderation since it has more calories than a day's meals. 6. Favorite gift received as a child? a baby doll my daddy gave me, it crawled and cried 7. Do you have a nativity scene? yes 8. Hardest person to buy for? LB (adult niece aka Bratchild) 9. Easiest person to buy for? Betty. bubble bath, only the brands and scents change from year to year 10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Dang, I knew I forgot something! 11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I had a relative that used to buy me the ugliest dresses, which I was then forced to wear on whatever Sunday we visited her after church. 12. Favorite Christmas Movie? White Christmas 13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I'll let you know when I get around to it. 14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yes, but I've received many more recycled gifts than I've given. 15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? chocolate fudge -- but I've only had one piece this year! 16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? colored 17. Favorite Christmas song? Mary Did You Know, by David Phelps 18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Home 19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Yes. 20. Angel on the tree top or a star? see 2, 3, & 4 above 21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? I prefer morning -- Bratchild insists on a midnight compromise .... 22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? People who forget Christmas is supposed to be a celebration of love, not greed. 23. Favorite ornament theme or color? No themes, just love and precious memories 24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? turkey with homemade noodles 25. Leave cookies & milk for Santa? nope, I ask him not to stop by here, and instead visit someone else who needs him more

Perfect? NOT!

2006-12-21T23:33:00.000-08:00

For those of you who think I am too good to be true: In the comments section of an earlier post, my sister, Caryl, wrote:

And now to that perfect part (I see the rest of the family just skimmed right over that) you are exceptional, bright, beautiful and extremely entertaining but perfect you are not. And if you want examples I can give them....may find them embarassing beyond belief though!!

Any of you thinking about bribing Caryl for those embarrassing stories just save your money. Caryl, I hope I didn't mess up your Christmas financing. As to the rest of the family -- feel free to jump in and defend me! -----Update: I wasn't going to add this, but I want to explain the post. This is not what I had planned to run, but in my email I received this anonymous post (obsenities deleted):

You with your family all over the net pretending to love each other. You think you're all that, don't you?

Now, before you really do rush in to defend me, attacks from strangers don't usually bother me, but this email, coupled with some family conversations about how "functional" we appear to be on line, and the teasing comments of perfection from a couple of my friends, I decided to address the issue. I am an ordinary person with an ordinary family. The love you see between us is real. The fdisagreements you don't see are real, too. We just don't readily share those.

Post 300 & a Meme

2006-12-21T05:31:00.000-08:00

Today is my 202nd day as a blog host, and this is my 300th post. Dang. I talk too much. Big surprise there, huh? Alphabet Meme (lifted from Gary) A. Attitude? Generally sunny. Lately: STRESSED B- Best apples? Granny Smith (with salt) C- Cooking? not for myself, but love to for others D- Drink of Choice? water mostly; diet Pepsi E- Essential Item? my glasses F. Foreign language? Yeah, English (pft) G- Great at anything? compassion H- Height? 5' 3.75" I- Indulgence? chocolate J- Jealous? minor twinges on occasion K- Kinks? right here in my neck .... L- Life -- is to be lived M- Married? no N- Never -- received a speeding ticket O- Old? depends on who's asking, doesn't it? P- Politics? usually mum Q- Quit? Smoking May 6th, 1997. R- Rich? hahahahahaha S- Seasonings? make mine spicy T- Television? rarely U- Unknown Fact about Me? insecure V- Vegetable I hate? canned green beans W- Weeds I like? The ones I call flowers. X- X-Rays? several Y- Yogurt? yum Z- Zodiac? Whatever.

Winter in Vegas

2006-12-20T04:14:00.000-08:00

For those of you who think of Las Vegas as fun in the sun, let's talk winter. Las Vegas is surrounded by mountains. This morning all of those mountains were dressed in a bright, fresh coat of white. They were yesterday, too. When I went out to get in the car, I had to clean snow from my windshield. In the summer, when the temperature hits the hundred and teens, nary a wind blows. In the winter when the mountains are dressed in ice, the wind sweeps over them and down into the valley like a sharp-edged knife. Come to Vegas in the Winter time. Glance out the window. The sun will be shining brightly. It will look like a glorious day, but step outside and that 30* wind will cut a path right through you.

Dilemma Solved

2006-12-19T16:35:00.000-08:00

Better now ....

Dilemma

2006-12-19T07:24:00.000-08:00

I just cleaned my desk and can't do a thing with it.

Attitude Adjustment

2006-12-19T05:15:00.000-08:00

I believe an attitude adjustment may be in order. Currently there is some controversy in my life over who needs the attitude adjustment. My friends say it is me. I disagree. My niece, LB (a non-blogger, who holds little in common with my blogging nieces you know and love), called me several weeks before Christmas to put in her present order. Since then she has called me every three or four days to see how I am progressing on it and to add items. Not surprisingly, I've not progressed at all. That same niece had an argument with me about whether or not I would be allowed to attend church on Christmas Eve. Hello? She is currently considering my suggestion she attend church with me. I am not holding my breath. A friend of mine who usually travels cross-country for Christmas is staying here, so two days ago she called me out of the blue and informed me that I would be having Christmas dinner at her home. Then she was offended when I told her I had already made other plans. What in the definition of the word "gift" implies that one places orders for them? And what, in the definition of "friendship" gives one the right to define someone else's choices?

Morale Booster

2006-12-18T10:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm back and I have something to share. I don't know how exciting you're going to find it, but I am overjoyed: I started at the gym on August 1st and went bright and early every morning until school started. Once school started I had to go to the gym in the afternoons. Changing the time I attended the gym meant I had to get used to different personnel. Well, this morning I was at the gym bright and early, so I got to see Margaret, the lady who first signed me in when I joined. I actually got there before her shift started, so I was already in the middle of my exercise routine when she spotted me. I got to watch her facial expressions change from politeness, to recognition, to surprise, and finally excitement. I think she was more thrilled about how I look than I am. She wanted me to come and weigh and measure, but I wouldn't. I only do that once a month and my next scheduled time is January 2nd. I'll wait. Still, the look on her face was a nice boost for my morale.

Confession

2006-12-18T07:12:00.000-08:00

Ha! I am on vacation. I forgot all about entertaining you folks. Now I am on my way out the door to pick up a friend at the auto shop, go to the gym, and otherwise get on with my day. I'll try to do something worth posting about along the line, but don't count on it being too exciting. Laters!

Directionally Challenged

2006-12-17T07:23:00.000-08:00

So, I was supposed to attend a coworker's Christams party last night. Before I left school on Friday he called me from his classroom and offered me a map to his home. I am not normally directionally challenged. "I've been there already, remember? Don't worry. I'll find it." He said, "That was a couple of months ago. My sub-division is pretty tricky. You'd better come get the map just in case." I declined. I don't suppose I even have to finish this story. You already know .... I drove around in the subdivision maze for an hour and a half. The streets twist, wind, dead-end, double back and turn one-around-the-other so much that it is impossible to tell north, south, east and west. Every house looks the same. They are all beige, have identical red tile roofs, and manicured postage stamp yards. The only way to tell one home from another is by the SUV's in their driveways. I called my friend -- nobody answered the phone. Then I called a friend I knew would be attending. Of course, she was too polite to take her cell phone to the party. So I drove in circles hoping I would come across a home surrounded by familiar cars. Instead, I rediscovered the main road out and took it like an Indy driver on the last lap of 500. I had a desperate need to be where the streets were straight and rolled toward home.

Ho Ho Ho

2006-12-16T05:17:00.000-08:00

The AP walked into my classroom yesterday morning. As my supervisor he does that often. Yesterday, being a half-day before the Holiday, I hadn't expected to see him. The reading block had just ended and my students were preparing our classroom for the party. The AP took about seven steps into the room and stood staring at the chaos. I couldn't help but notice his electronic clipboard under his arm -- the one he uses for employee evaluations. Several young ladies were opening bags of chips -- forbidden treats banned by CCSD's new nutrition guidelines. Paper plates and napkins, and mini-chocolate bars were being passed out. Cyndi offered the AP a chocolate cupcake slathered in butter cream icing. Nessa offered him a similarly iced sugar cookie. He declined both politely, then his fingers began dancing rapidly over the clipboard's touch pad. I was on my knees at my classroom refrigerator passing out caffeine laden sodas -- highly forbidden -- to my students. I stared at the AP with a sinking feeling. His fingers stopped moving. He held the clipboard up and studied his work, then he slipped the stylus from the side and started toward me. He was going to ask me to sign the dang thing. I rocked back on my heels, looked up at him and challenged, "You have GOT to be kidding." He swung the clipboard toward me saying, "Yeah, actually, I am." I looked at the screen. Bright red and green letters spelled out, "Merry Christmas!" and "Happy New Year." I offered him a soda. He said no thanks, but accepted a potato chip from Jasmine. Then he winked at me and disappeared through the communicating door into Mr. Texas-Drawl's room. Moments later through the open door I heard a very twangy, "Ya'll better be kiddin' me!"

Role Reversal

2006-12-15T09:51:00.000-08:00

Morning assembly, all the classes stand in straight lines and we salute the flag together, then we listen as the AP gives the morning announcements. He dismisses the students with the words, "If I don't see you again today, enjoy your winter break, and I'll see you next year." Murmers immediately swept the crowd. My students were not immune. "Next year?" "Next year?" "Did he say, next year?" Sid turned to me in disbelief, "Ms. A? Next year?" The whole class riveted on my answer. I grinned. "Yep. When you guys leave here at 11:30 this morning, I won't have to... uhm, I won't get to see your grimy, uh, ... I mean, smiling, faces until next year." Sid dropped his chin and gave me the same, I-am-not-amused look I give him when I really am amused, but don't want him to know. Pansy Petite raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. "Ms. A," she scolded, "that was not very nice." And I reacted for them exactly the way they react for me. I held up my hands, gave them a look of wide-eyed surprise and said, "Wha-?"

I Kid You Not

2006-12-15T04:35:00.000-08:00

Is it any wonder I want out of here? Actually, my original plan was only to leave Las Vegas, but this whole state is crazy! Just read this: Lawmaker Says Teachers Should Have Guns In Class 12-14-2006 7:31 AM (Carson City, NV) -- If state Senator Bob Beers has his way, every Nevada teacher will be able to keep a gun in the classroom. Beers says he's working on a bill that would allow instructors and other school personnel to arm themselves during classes, once they complete a course on gun safety. The Las Vegas Republican believes students would think twice about bringing a gun to campus if they knew the teachers were armed as well. Not everyone is supporting Beers' idea. Clark County School Superintendent Walt Rulffes tells the "Review-Journal" an armed staff would actually make schools less safe. He says more studies are needed before he would endorse the idea of teachers carrying guns to class. Copyright 2006 Metro Networks Communications Inc., A Westwood One Company

Six White Hours

2006-12-14T12:28:00.000-08:00

I am sitting in a straight-backed wooden chair, slumped over a side-table with my eyes closed. I can hear, down the hall behind curtain 6, a drunk yelling that he came to Vegas to gamble, not to sit in an emergency room and bleed to death. I also hear a mother crying at the bedside of a child whose small body is encircled by tubes and wires. My eyes are closed because across from me is a man, face down on a gurney. There is a large shard of glass protruding from the flesh of his right buttock. He is crying. After about two hours, someone grabs my hand. Cool fingers circle my wrist. I open my eyes to a white jacket and stethoscope. I focus on a kind face with a pleasant smile. "I'm Dr. Gonzalez," the man says. "What seems to be the problem?" I frown at him, puzzled, then shake my head and point at my friend crumpled beside me in a reclining wheel chair, her left arm bound in a make-shift sling. She moans. The Doctor immediately turns his attention to her. I watch as he carefully checks her over, assures her she will soon be on her way to xray, and tells her what we all already knew: her shoulder is dislocated. The man with the glass shard is suddenly gone -- whisked off to surgery? In his place sits a shriveled old man wearing trousers, bathroom slippers and a blood soaked t-shirt. He clutches a crimson rag to his face and asks repeatedly, "Is Janie coming? Is Janie coming?" Twenty minutes pass. The xray techs appear and take my friend away. In another twenty minutes they return her. We talk for awhile, saying nothing important, but distracting her from the pain. Finally a nurse arrives. He spends almost a half an hour looking for a vein in her arm. He gathers up his toys and slumps away muttering. Another nurse arrives. She spends 3 minutes looking for a vein in my friend's hand, inserts the IV, and is finished inside of 10 minutes. Ten minutes pass. My friend is transfered to a gurney and wheeled into a cloth walled cubical. I follow. A tech appears and soon my friend is circled in tubes and wires. They give me her glasses. I hook them over my jacket pocket. Five more people crowd into the little space. I step out even though they don't ask me to. My friend calls, "Where are you going?" "Just here," I answer, and lean against the cold, white wall. The doctor explains to my friend how they will do the "reduction" and put her shoulder back in place. As he talks of force and leverage, he ties a white sheet around his waist. The nurse jokes about midnight ER toga parties. The doctor does a saucy little dance and my friend laughs. I pull my cell phone from my pocket and look at the time. 1 a.m. I flip the phone open and call Sub Services -- twice. Once for me. Once for my friend. Neither of us will be in our classrooms the next day. As I call, the curtain around the cubical closes. I can no longer see my friend. She can no longer see me. "Are you there?" she calls. "Of course," I answer. Again I listen. I listen as the doctor explains the anesthesia. I listen as he asks her, repeatedly, her name. After the third query, she doesn't know. I listen as he directs the techs, and explains to an Intern what he is doing and why. I listen as he orders the nurse to call xray back for another picture. He adds, "Although I'm sure we've got it." The curtain opens. Everyone files out until only my friend, out cold and snoring at the cealing, and one nurse remain. I step back into the cubical, sit down in a straight-backed hardwood chair and rest my head against the wall. I try to doze. I hear the steady beep, beep, beep of my friend's heart monitor, the nurse's pen scratching across paper, and some man down the hall say, "I don't think Momma's gonna make it." Another hour passes as they monitor my friend's vital signs and make certain she isn't going to have an adverse reaction to the anesthetic. Finally they say she can go. I take her home. Once in her own home she happily dismisses me and toddles off to bed. I stagger out into the darkness to make the drive home.

Intermission

2006-12-14T07:18:00.000-08:00

This blog has been temporarily interrupted due to exhaustion. It will resume it's regular fair (fare?) of silliness and nonsense after it's perpetrator (proprietor?) has gotten some much needed sleep. Please, carry on without me. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Enough

2006-12-13T10:51:00.000-08:00

I am sitting in my classroom freezing. Once again there is no heat (second day in a row this time). My students are wrapped within their coats shivering, pencils clutched in sleeve-covered fingers. I just put a call in to the AP and told him we were all going home if something wasn't done soon. The good news is, we are having an afterschool program tonight and I am hosting parents in this meat locker. That ought to get someone's attention. 12:24 p.m. Update: The heat just came on.

Taking the Frightened Away

2006-12-13T02:22:00.000-08:00

Everyday I get a 40 minute prep period, and Mrs. B. takes over my class. My students work on enhancing their writing skills with her. At Thanksgiving time she asked my students to write about a person they were thankful for, and to explain why. The paper below was written by Cyndi: ----- I am thankful for my teacher, Ms. A, because she is there when I need her. Ms. A. is helpful and kind. She helps me when I need her during class. She especiallly helps me a lot during math when I don't know how to do a problem or when I just don't understand. She is very clever when she teaches math skills we haven't learned. She takes all my frightened away when I try to learn something new. Ms. A. is the best ever math teacher and homeroom teacher. She is loyal and respectful to everyone. She encourages us to do new things. She is a fun and absolutely funny teacher and she tells us great stories. Ms. A. is the teacher everyone I know wants to have. I am thankful she is my teacher. ----- I needed this message. Lately I have been very discouraged and have found myself wondering why I even bother. All the testing, all the statistics, all the programs and the red tape that tangles and obscures the fact that the bottom line is the children. Today I am thankful for the reminder of why I went into teaching in the first place.

The Administrative Assistant

2006-12-12T05:11:00.000-08:00

Pansy Petite stops nervously beside my desk and eyes a precarious stack of papers. "Ms. A.," she says primly, "Would you like me to clean your desk?" "Not really," I answer. "I know it looks messy, but I actually know where everything is." She stares at me skeptically for a long moment, then asks. "May I please borrow the special white eraser?" I open my desk drawer and rifle through it. No eraser. I look up at Pansy. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. Somebody must already have it." She nods her head, reaches out and plucks the white eraser from the chaos of my desk. Holding it up for me to see, she chides, "Are you sure I can't clean your desk? I promise I would keep it very well orgnized." "Yes, Dear," I answered. "I am certain you would, and I find that thought very, very scary." "Suit yourself," she answered while walking away, "But I'm sure my way would be easier." Mmmmm --- for whom?

Cat's Query

2006-12-11T06:06:00.000-08:00

Her name was Catherine, but they called her Cat, which suited her personality well. She was the brand new Assistant Principal's spunky five year-old daughter. It was only the second week of school and I'd already heard enough about her to wonder why her father's hair wasn't gray -- and there she was in fromt of me, hanging upside down from the monkey bars. Her hair and arms dangled toward the ground, with her pink striped shirt rumpled at her armpits and ber belly hanging out. I walked over and put one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her back to help support her. "Young lady, get down now!" She swung her hands to the bar, loosed her feet and casually dropped to the ground. Hands on her hips, blonde hair sticking out every which way, blue eyes shooting sparks she demanded, "Do you know who I am!?" "Yes, " I answered, "I do. And that doesn't change the fact that rules are rules." "Oh," she said. "Darn!" And then she grinned at me and skipped off to play.

To Keep You Busy

2006-12-09T04:52:00.000-08:00

I leave you for the weekend with a choice of two entertainments: First, on, The Grownups Wanted Us Dead:

When we were in Yakima, Caryl bought me a pair of HASH jeans. I was 17 years old and had never owned a pair of blue jeans, and even in my wildest dreams would never have thought I might own a designer pair. She also bought me this cute little striped t-shirt that clung like skin, a pair of chunky platform high-heels, and then she gave me the "Farrah Fawcett" hair-cut. It was like being transformed into a movie star. I looked good and I knew it.

And second, on Matthew 28:19:

You could just be sitting somewhere, minding your own business, when out of the blue your life changes drastically. You see it coming, try to stop it, but that [snap] fast, it's out of your control.

At least that's how it happened to me.

Blessed Quiet

2006-12-08T10:42:00.000-08:00

Jake is not in school today. And he was not in school for very long yesterday. He has been in rare form lately. On Wednesday I turned away for just a moment and when I turned back he was dancing on his chair with a kick me sign on his back -- which he'd put there himself. Later in the afternoon he and his best-friend got in a playround wrestling match. When I went out to pick up my class after recess, Jake had a bright red handprint on his face and blood seeping from a scratch beneath his eye. I sent Jake to the nurse -- who cleaned him up and sent him (and his buddy) to the principal. Thursday morning before school I saw Mr. Texas-Drawl frog-stepping two boys to the office -- one of them was Jake. Fist fight. Both boys were suspended pending parent conferences. My classroom is remarkably quiet. My students are extraordinarily well-behaved. And I'm still waiting for Jake's mother to show up for his report card conference. She is only 3 weeks and 7 hours late .... It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ...

Bah Humbug

2006-12-08T05:18:00.000-08:00

Thursday in the teacher's lounge at lunch time -- the place full of talking, working copy machines, humming microwaves and assorted dining noises -- I casually mentioned to my lunch companion that I wasn't going to the staff Christmas party. The room was suddenly silent. Everybody looked at me as if I'd just admitted to killing babies. From 15 feet away, Mr. Texas-Drawl demanded to know why in the 7734 not? Nobody cared for any of my excuses. That is probably because they were just excuses. I never told them the truth. I hate going to parties where everyone is part of a couple and I am not. What joy is there in ... ... getting dressed up alone? ... driving across town alone? ... walking into a party alone? ... standing in the midst of couples alone? ... then going home alone with the laughter of those happy couples still ringing in my ears? Thanks to a goodly amount of peer pressure, I will be going to the Christmas party. Chances are I will even enjoy some of the evening while I am there. But I will not enjoy leaving -- walking across the parkinglot alone while everyone else is hand-in-hand. Alone and lonely are not always synonymous -- except when you are a single in the middle of a paired off crowd.

Wednesday With Words

2006-12-07T05:24:00.000-08:00

As one travels between Las Vegas and Phoenix, there is a spot in the Arizona desert where he may travel for miles without seeing any sign of human inhabitation beyond the road shimmering into the distance. Suddenly this weary and lonesome driver spots a road crossing sign. Civilization! His eyes search the horizon ... Into view comes a wide, four-lane cross street, stop signs optimistically standing guard in this vast nothingness. Still no other signs of human occupation exist beyond these bitumen lines in the sand. Yet there proudly stands a street sign proclaiming -- testament to some man's rueful faith -- First Street.

Life Isn't Fair

2006-12-06T00:16:00.000-08:00

We've all heard it said that life isn't fair. It's a quip we make when some minor inconvenience mucks up our day or keeps us from getting our own way. For most of us here on the net, life has probably than kinder than we acknowledge on a day-to-day basis. I have a roof over my head. Every time the wind blows I hold my breath at it's creakings, and when it rains I walk the rooms checking for leaks -- but so far it's still a roof. I am able to eat whenever I please and pretty much whatever I please. I drive a nice, fairly new car. My bills are paid -- mostly. There's one here from the power company I am a little afraid to open. Sure I have a few horrible instances in my past that I can point at and say, "Foul!" My mom died when I was a baby. I had a step-mom that made Cinderella's look kind. There seems to be little fairness there, but today I saw reason to be thankful for the truly minor unfairnesses in my life. At church tonight I held a five week old baby in my arms who weighs less than ten pounds. She is in foster care. Her birth mother has never seen her. The state welfare division is currently striving to get one of the two men who could possibly be her father to take financial responsibility. This child is literally of no value to the people who created her. I held this baby and rocked her and talked to her while her foster mother ate. The baby's big brown eyes focused on my face without wavering. She did not smile. She did not blink. She did not wiggle. If I stopped moving and talking she would whimper, other than that she was unresponsive -- like holding a hard, plastic doll in my arms. There was no softness to her. No bend. No cuddle. Could she talk, this child would have the right to claim that life isn't fair. The only heritage her parents gave her willingly, was their addiction to methamphetamines.

I've Become One of THEM!

2006-12-05T05:31:00.000-08:00

I recently started going to the gym on a regular basis. I find I really enjoy the way I feel. My body functions better. There is a spring in my step. My patience and my temper seem to have greater endurance, and my students say I smile more -- though there's a chance the smile springs from another source. Friday I arrived at school the same time as one of our regular substitute teachers. She commented that I was looking trimmer. I told her I'd joined a gym. She mentioned one she was thinking of joining, but knew she would never go alone. The gym she mentioned was mine. I attend the gym almost nightly with another of my co-workers. We talk and giggle while we exercise, which makes the time go faster. Tonight, at my invitation and on my pass, the substitute teacher joined us. We exercised her breathless, kept her giggling the whole while, then made her sign up before we let her go. All must exercise! Everybody together now: one, two, three, four ....

Chilled

2006-12-04T14:22:00.000-08:00

If you'll recall the school year started, here in the land of 112 degree weather, with no air conditioning in my classroom. Now we are in the middle of a record cold spell -- and there is no heat. All my students huddle with their arms inside their shirts and their coats over their heads. According to the thermometer on the wall it was 37 degrees in my classroom this morning. At 9:00 we opened the door because it was warmer outside. My students were trying to write. Most of them had their sleeves pulled over their fingers and their pencils wrapped within the folds. One of the kids stood up to ask me a question. He saw me huddled at my desk with my coat over my head and my arms inside my shirt. "You can't sit like that!" He exclaimed. "Why can't I?" "Because," he said. "You're a grown up!" Guess what? Grown ups get cold, too. And fed up and tired and angry -- kind of like the way I feel about this school district. ----- It is now 2:20 p.m. and the heat has been on for about an hour. We are starting to thaw. The kids are just now starting to show some interest in their surroundings -- and you understand that I am responsible for anything they didn't learn today.

Down Time

2006-12-04T06:01:00.000-08:00

Currently I am without words. If you absolutely, positively must read something new from me, I posted, Soup, Bibles & Blankets, on Sunday afternoon.

Six Weird Things About Me (MeMe)

2006-12-03T06:30:00.000-08:00

I was tagged by SilverNeurotic, so I guess I should do this. If you've been reading my blog long you know 6 is a pretty conservative number on my weird meter; but just the same, here are six weird things about me: 1. In my life, the word "attention" is sometimes an oxymoron. 2. A little cracked linoleum offers proof that my cat is smarter than I. 3. My first car was a motorcycle. 4. I cultivate unusual flowers. 5. I am my father's daughter. 6. I also spend a lot of my time wondering. For instance, right now I am wondering why I agreed to play meme tag. However, since I've gotten this far and you're still here with me -- TAG! you're it!

The Resistance Leader

2006-12-02T05:27:00.000-08:00

The next couple of days look like they are going to be pretty busy, so I took the time last night to prepare something to entertain you in case I couldn't be around. Once again, I invite you to stop by, The Grownups Wanted Us Dead, and enjoy a bit of getting even. On occasion, we gave the grownups reason to want us dead:

We complained. We wrote letters. We walked around blue-kneed and frozen. It mattered not. The powers that be were male and they had never stood outside in 20 degree weather while the wind blew up their skirts. What did they care how cold we were?

Super heroes are made, not born. Their inhumanity called forth: The Resistance Leader.

I'm a Loser

2006-12-01T19:01:00.000-08:00

In the last 11 days I have lost another 4.5 pounds. On August 1st, I decided a change needed to be made and I set out to make myself half the person I used to be. So far I have lost 13 pounds altogether. Inches are coming off, too. Of course the weight-loss is great and I definately plan to continue, but that is just a minor part of the benefit of exercising. The other day I backed my car out of the driveway and saw all the garbage cans lining the road. Trash day. I'd forgotten. I stopped the car right there at the curb, hopped out, sprinted up the driveway and took the steps in a single bound --took the steps in single bound --. Those would be the same steps that somedays after work seemed much too steep to climb. Speaking of which, when my work day comes to an end I now still have energy. I also seem to be in a better overall mood. Not to mention that I am resenting the three days per week I can't go to the gym: Wednesdays (church), Saturdays (Sidewalk Sunday School), and Sundays (gym closed). I should have picked a gym with longer hours. Since I didn't, I'm thinking of getting a stair-stepper or walking machine. I am truly liking this exercise thing. Weird, huh?

Karaoki and Other Disasters

2006-11-30T21:09:00.000-08:00

This weeeeeek will go down in the history of my life as one of the longest on record. Disaster precipated disaster. I have never been given so many new tasks with so little direction in such a small amount of time. Monday I was given paperwork at 8 o'clock in the morning which needed to be returned by noon -- and I had to figure out how to complete it while teaching. Tuesday and Wednesday, for my afterschool tutoring group, I was handed incomplete lesson plans and few of the necessary supplies. After every tutoring session I am required to post online, but my password wasn't agreeing with the program. Midweek the principal came to ask how the new writing program was going -- and all of the 5th grade teachers (myself included) were surprised to hear there was one ... On top of all that, I was asked to direct an event for 175 kids -- Karaoke. Noise. Mayhem. Madness. And around 230 kids arrived. We scrambled to find snacks for all the extra kids -- my car trunk was opened and all the Sunday School snacks poured forth (hmmm, I wonder if I could get in trouble for feeding them "church" food?) and kindergarten opened their larder. The more difficult problems to solve were the two karaoke machines, one room, 200+ kids, and no microphones .... Still, a good time was had by all. The teachers at my school are awesome. We all looked around, took stock of what we did have, and made a party happen. I have to tell you, you haven't lived until you've sung, Hakuna Mata, and then done the Hookey-Pokey with a couple hundred assorted kids.

There IS a Lock on the Door

2006-11-30T05:07:00.000-08:00

Our school staffs about 68 people. Eleven of them are men. The men and women have the exact same amount of bathrooms on our campus. Some of the women grumble that it makes no sense. Others of us take a different course. There are two single stall bathrooms in the teacher's lounge -- the one building on the campus everybody uses. One bathroom door is marked, "Women's." One bathroom door is marked "Men's." Those words don't mean a dang thing to a good many females on staff. If the door is unlocked, and one of us has to go, we march right in. The secretary really should tell the male substitute teachers that when they are given orientation. "Oh, by the way, if you like privacy in the bathroom, you'd best lock the door behind you." I met one of those subs today. I believe in the future he will lock the bathroom door.

Start Thinking

2006-11-29T05:06:00.000-08:00

My car door was tagged. The mark was on the passenger side, so I may not have spotted it right away. It was made with a brown marker -- probably a Sharpie. It was the sign of a local gang. The discovery left me feeling doubly violated -- someone vandalized my property, but more than that, they violated my security. I am Teacher; Maestra; Miss. I am the one person, when our pod was broken into two years ago, whose room remained pristine. The vandals trashed all three of the other rooms, spray painting the walls, breaking furniture, destroying books -- and in my room they took the VCR, the TV, and every pen and pencil in my desk, but they destroyed nothing. They left a note on my white board that read, "You were cool." A few years back the teachers all walked out of their classrooms at the end of the day to discover their tires had been slashed. My car was among the few untouched. I am liked and respected in the neighborhood. I am known as fair, honest and kind. Knowing I was respected left me feeling immune. And then I discovered the tagging on my car. I said something to my students. Richard piped up, "That's good teacher. The gang, they like you. You are under their protection." I said, "That's bad, Richard. That mark on my car could get me killed. When you put on one gang's colors, you put on a target the members of every other gang wants to shoot." All the kids immediately looked at each other and started murmuring. One of them said, "I never thought of that." My response: "Start thinking." _____ To those who love me: the car door has been cleaned.

Jake's Mistake

2006-11-28T05:54:00.000-08:00

Jake just couldn't keep it together. He got in a fight in reading class (name calling, eraser throwing) and received a citation. He repeated the performance during writng period and received yet another citation - and lunch detention from me. At lunch time Jake informed me that he had also gotten in trouble in P.E. and he'd been given detention there. He said if he didn't show up, Mr. T. would make him serve an extra day. I told him to go serve his detention with Mr. T. Mr. T. and I both have lunch at the same time. Imagine our surprise as we looked across the table at each other in the teacher's lounge, each of us wondering aloud where Jake was. Jake was, of course, at recess, having told me he was with Mr. T., and having told Mr. T., he was with me. After lunch I confronted Jake with his deception, and an aditional two days detention. Was he contrite? No. He was disgusted. "How was I supposed to know you guys talk to each other?"

Mixed Results

2006-11-27T05:01:00.000-08:00

Why is it that, even though I buy the same dang box, same dang brand, same dang number, I get a different hair color every time? Not only that, but Jaime says, "Oh, you've lightened your hair." And not ten minutes later Joe says, "Your hair's darker. It looks nice." Precious ten year-old Brandi was the kicker though. She scrunched up her nose, looked at me and said, "What happened to your hair?" "Happened?" I questioned. She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "Oh well, Ms. Charlene, I love you anyway." And then she left me with a gooey tootsie pop kiss on my cheek. Lovely. I feel so much better now.

Distracted

2006-11-26T04:16:00.000-08:00

The Saturday after Thanksgiving we always have a talent show at Sidewalk Sunday School. The kids show off for each other and we feed them Pizza and soda. The only way you can have an 11 a.m. delivery of seven large pizzas is if you place the order the night before. The thing is, I've been a little distracted lately and my mind skips off all by itself. I'm finding this rather disconcerting. For as long as I can remember, as I'm drifting to sleep I review the day I just had, and preview the one coming up. Friday night just as I was on the edge of sleep, Connie Conscience, that little voice in my head said, "So, did you order the pizza?" "Nope," I mumbled. "Say that again?" "Not. Going. To." "Right." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "Get up!" "Make me." "Thirty kids are all going to be standing there holding empty plates and staring at you." "Crap! Why'd you have to go and plant that vision in my head?" "That's it. Turn on the light. I knew you'd do the right thing." ___ Saturday morning when I woke I was relieved that Connie had made me order the pizza. Facing the children without it would have been horrible. The pop I'd purchased the day before, and it was already in the trunk of the car. I just needed to stop by the store for ice, and the church to get the kid's prizes -- harmonicas -- and all would be set. I got in the car and started driving. The next thing I knew, I was at a red light about two miles beyond both the church and the store. "Lovely. Turn around and go back, Idiot. And this time pay attention!" I got my supplies and made it to Sidewalk safely. We were setting up and Brandon, holding the pop and ice, said: "Where's the cooler?" Cooler? Milli said, "Do we have paper plates and napkins for the pizza?" "Hello?" I picked up my car keys and walked away, assuring them over my shoulder, "I'll be right back." ___ If any of you have an extra attention span I would very much like to borrow one. "She'll probably just misplace it, too."

The Sounds of Silence

2006-11-25T06:03:00.000-08:00

When I was very young I sat at the feet of one of my father's friends and I listened to him tell adventures of his life lived around the world. That day I said a prayer. I asked God to give me an adventure-filled life, and make me an awesome storyteller. I have since learned that one needs to be very careful when framing petitions to the Almighty. I bring you yet another scene from my childhood:

I was a clumsy teenager. In fact, I've pretty much been clumsy all of my life, but there was a short period in my teens when I was truly a walking disaster. My accidents became so routine people began reacting to them as if they weren't extraordinary.

To finish reading please visit: The Grownups Wanted Us Dead Oh! And before anybody asks: No, I don't smoke anymore and I haven't in ages.

Still Thankful

2006-11-24T06:32:00.000-08:00

Last fall I was in desperate need of a new wardrobe, so I took a summer job at an upscale women's clothing store, and traded my paychecks for clothes. Despite teaching full-time and my extra-curricular job as the school's writing coordinator, I kept the part-time job through Christmas. Even with my 40% discount, the clothes I bought were spendy. I wanted quality wear that would last awhile. Well, the other day I put my favorite skirt on and the elastic was shot. The thing spun about my waist and drooped very unattractively. I spent most of the day holding it on with one hand and simmering about how little wear I'd gotten from it. Just this past August, I'd started going to the gym. I went every single morning until school started and then things got hit and miss, mostly miss. They said I needed to go three times per week for successful weight loss, but between my church commitments and two jobs, I was lucky to make one night a week. I deliberately skipped weigh-in nights because I didn't want to be handed a slip highlighting my failure. Even though I wasn't going to the gym, I did stop eating at fast food places and take care with what foods I brought into my home. I've replaced my beloved Pepsi with water. When my students aren't looking I either giveaway or throw away the candy they bring me. November 13th I made a promise to myself that no matter what I had to give up, I would make it to the gym three nights per week, and that when the December 1st weigh in came around I wouldn't miss it. That's partially why you've seen so little of me lately on your blogs. November 21st I walked into the gym and it was empty. I should have walked out. What was I thinking staying there alone with all those employees who had nothing better to do then look at my stats and discover that I hadn't been weighed or measured in 113 days? The next thing I knew I was hustled onto the scales, wrapped up in tape measures and squeezing body fat indicators. And sure enough when all was finished they handed me a computer print out. My stats: total pounds lost: 8.5 total inches lost: 6.5 I guess it wasn't the elastic in my skirt after all ... Now, if I can do that without half trying, what might happen if I put some effort into it?

Thanksgiving

2006-11-23T11:30:00.000-08:00

This is my 47th Thanksgiving: here are 47 things I am thankful for -- mostly in no particular order: 1.) my grandmother 2.) Caryl 3.) Jackie 4.) Jean 5.) Harold 6.) assorted nieces and nephews 7.) God/Jesus 8.) my students 9.) laughter 10.) clothing 11.) Betty 12.) my church family 13.) Sidewalk Sunday School 14.) food at hand 15.) green grass 16.) hot showers 17.) my car 18.) my health 19.) my independence 20.) my cats 21.) my sense of humor 22.) Tina 23.) spring 24.) Eder 25.) LuzMarina 26.) Jamie P. 27.) Jaime A. 28.) chocolate! 29.) hot tea 30.) Brandi Jo 31.) the gym 32.) my washing machine (someday I hope to be thankful for a dryer, too) 33.) Pepsi 34.) words 35.) lepidoptera 36.) Ilona 37.) sunshine 38.) sunrise 39.) sunset 40.) silence 41.) good books 42.) DSL 43.) gym 44.) hope 45.) my blogs 46.) your blogs 47.) And each and every one of YOU!

Dr. John

2006-11-22T08:24:00.000-08:00

I was asked to participate in a roast for Dr. John. To tell the truth I don't really know how to proceed. How does one roast such an incredibly nice man? What could I possibly say to poke fun at such an upstanding citizen of not just one community, but three? To the people of Crystal Falls he is their beloved Pastor, now retired, but ever an inspiration and a part of their past, present and future, whether he is there in person or not. To the people of Pigeon Falls he is Dr. Fortress, the bringer of the railroad and giver of life. To those of us who live with him here on the net he is inspiration and encouragement. He is also a pastor and a friend. Society might label him retired, but he has never stopped serving God. Now how could I possibly make fun of that? I mean, so what if he believes in dragons and talking white rabbits? So what if he confuses mailing labels and sends packages to the wrong places? So what if he lives in a make believe town, terrorizes phone solicitors, and adopts dogs for other people? Does that make him odd? Well, yes. But is that any reason to make fun of him?

Is This Wednesday?

2006-11-22T06:30:00.000-08:00

Someone has played havoc with my "pay-attention" and I am horribly out of sync. I don't really want to be cured, so don't try to help me. Just the same, slient or not -- here's your silly Wednesday pic ....

Baby Steps

2006-11-22T05:46:00.000-08:00

Testing again today -- we started the monthly Math Benchmarks. Mona raised her hand. I have been working with her one-on-one in math and the other day she had a break-through in understanding the relationship between multiplication and division. Still, tests are hard for her and they sap her confidence, so my heart sank as I walked toward her, fearing she would ask a question that test protocol would demand I not answer. As I stopped beside her she looked up at me with a beautiful smile on her face. "I think I get it," she said. I looked down at her paper and she had the first three problems finished and correct. I started to grin, too. "You do get it," I said. "These are right!" She didn't do as well on the geometry and measurement section, and she knew it, but she glowed all the way through the rest of the test anyway -- small steps forward.

Healthy Snacks

2006-11-21T05:40:00.000-08:00

Monday we had a "party" in my classroom. I do it after every round of parent-teacher conferences. In my neighborhood by the time students reach 5th grade, their parents stop showing up for school events. Persuasion is needed to get them there. I usually persuade the students to drag their parents in by offering soda pop and a pizza party. The thing is, new nutrition guidelines forbid both -- and the foods they do offer don't very well lend themselves to a kid's party. For instance, we are encouraged to reward hard work with carrot sticks. (Can't you just see kids jumping through hoops for those?) Well, that's what I served. Carrot sticks, celery, broccoli, cauliflower, cheese and baked Triscuits. I had little bowls of low fat Ranch Dressing, and a low-sugar, high vitamin C fruit drink. The students arrived at the table with their little plates and napkins and they all ah-ed in amazement. Jasmine breathed, "Just like grown-ups!" And they proceded to eat like locust. I enjoyed the comments: Rico said, "I'm not eating that white stuff (cauliflower)." Moe replied, "It's not bad." Nessa said, "This green stuff (broccoli) is really good." C.C. answered, "Nothing green is ever good." But my very most favorite comment of all came as we were cleaning up: Cyndi said, "Next time can we have more celery? That was the best part." Of course, Cyndi also asks for homework.

Compassion Limited

2006-11-20T06:13:00.000-08:00

For your laughing pleasure, another glimpse at the trials and tribulations of my teen years:

"Come quick." "Lenny's hurt." "... fell off the slide." "... poked a stick in his eye."

For the rest of the story, pop over to: The Grownups Wanted Us Dead.

Intermission

2006-11-19T13:20:00.000-08:00

Today you must live without me. It is okay. You will be fine. I promise. Your regularly scheduled programming will return tomorrow.

Back in the Olden Days ...

2006-11-18T08:05:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, when schools were much less regimented than they are now, folks entering my 5th grade classroom often found themselves momentarily confused -- apparently, to hear it described, the phenomenon was rather like one of those dreams where you open the door to one place, yet enter another. It was the beginning of a brand new year and I was introducing the students to their new math books. The door opened and the principal walked in. It was my second year working for him and I was used to him often wandering through the classrooms, so I just kept teaching. He paused at the bird cage and greeted the parakeets. He stopped briefly at all three hamster cages, and all three fish tanks. He hunkered down at both aquariums. The trantula he took in stride, but when Iggy, the iguana, spit at him he backed up just a bit. At that point he had made a full circut and was back at the door. He paused to look at me, so I paused to look at him. Straight-faced, he drawled, "I find myself wondering: will this be a fifth grade classroom, or Ms. A's petting zoo?" Completely deadpan I answered, "Yes." As he turned to leave the room I saw a smile.

Busy Weekend Meme

2006-11-18T00:02:00.000-08:00

Wanna play? It's simple. Copy, paste and if you've done it, bold it. Here are just a few of the things I have done in my life -- proof I am actually quite boring: 01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink 02. Swam with wild dolphins (ok, they were in captivity, but it was cool...) 03. Climbed a mountain (I've hiked a few ...) 04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive 05. Been inside the Great Pyramid 06. Held a tarantula 07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone 08. Said "I love you" and meant it 09. Hugged a tree 10. Bungee jumped 11. Visited Paris 12. Watched a lightning storm at sea 13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise 14. Seen the Northern Lights 15. Gone to a huge sports game (Does NASCAR count?) 16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa 17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables 18. Touched an iceberg 19. Slept under the stars 20. Changed a baby's diaper 21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon 22. Watched a meteor shower 23. Gotten drunk on champagne 24. Given more than you can afford to charity 25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope 26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment 27. Had a food fight 28. Bet on a winning horse 29. Asked out a stranger 30. Had a snowball fight 31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can 32. Held a lamb 33. Seen a total eclipse 34. Ridden a roller coaster 35. Hit a home run 36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking 37. Adopted an accent for an entire day 38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment 39. Had two hard drives for your computer 40. Visited all 50 states (close, but not quite) 41. Taken care of someone who was drunk 42. Had amazing friends 43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country 44. Watched wild whales 45. Stolen a sign (Gram made me put it back.) 46. Backpacked in Europe 47. Taken a road-trip 48. Gone rock climbing 49. Midnight walk on the beach 50. Gone sky diving 51. Visited Ireland 52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love 53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them 54. Visited Japan 55. Milked a cow 56. Alphabetized your CDs 57. Pretended to be a superhero 58. Sung karaoke 59. Lounged around in bed all day 60. Played touch football 61. Gone scuba diving 62. Kissed in the rain 63. Played in the mud 64. Played in the rain 65. Gone to a drive-in theater 66. Visited the Great Wall of China 67. Started a business 68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken 69. Toured ancient sites 70. Taken a martial arts class 71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight 72. Gotten married 73. Been in a movie 74. Crashed a party 75. Gotten divorced 76. Gone without food for 5 days 77. Made cookies from scratch 78. Won first prize in a costume contest 79. Ridden a gondola in Venice 80. Gotten a tattoo 81. Rafted the Snake River (I've swam in it and fished in it, but no raft.) 82. Been on television news programs as an "expert" 83. Got flowers for no reason 84. Performed on stage 85. Been to Las Vegas 86. Recorded music 87. Eaten shark 88. Kissed on the first date 89. Gone to Thailand 90. Bought a house 91. Been in a combat zone 92. Buried one/both of your parents 93. Been on a cruise ship 94. Spoken more than one language fluently 95. Performed in Rocky Horror 96. Raised children 97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour 99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country 100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over 101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge 102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking 103. Had plastic surgery 104. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived 105. Wrote articles for a large publication 106. Lost over 100 pounds 107. Held someone while they were having a flashback 108. Piloted an airplane 109. Touched a stingray 110. Broken someone's heart 111. Helped an animal give birth 112. Won money on a T.V. game show 113. Broken a bone 114. Gone on an African photo safari 115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears 116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol (all three) 117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild 118. Ridden a horse 119. Had major surgery 120. Had a snake as a pet 121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon 122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours 123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states 124. Visited all 7 continents 125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days 126. Eaten kangaroo meat 127. Eaten sushi 128. Had your picture in the newspaper 129. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about 130. Gone back to school 131. Parasailed 132. Touched a cockroach 133. Eaten fried green tomatoes 134. Read The Iliad - and the Odyssey 135. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read 136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating 137. Skipped all your school reunions 138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language 139. Been elected to public office 140. Written your own computer language 141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream 142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care 143. Built your own PC from parts 144. **Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you (Does writing count as art work? If yes, then: Yes!) 145. Had a booth at a street fair 146. Dyed your hair 147. Been a DJ 148. Shaved your head 149. Caused a car accident 150. Saved someone's life If you've not done so yet, visit Belle of the Brawl and Vote for me in the caption poll in the right hand sidebar! Please be polite and say "hi" to Sar, too, while you're there.

Accidently Hilarious

2006-11-16T19:21:00.000-08:00

My students had a very huge amount of work to get done in a very short time. Because of this they were writing furiously and quietly for almost 40 minutes. They were all hunched over their desks making no noise save pencil scratching and an occassional sniffle. I decided they needed a break (or I was just bored myself by the silence and inactivity). I walked into the middle of the room and suggested that everybody put their pencils down and stand up. Then I told them to shake their hands -- and demonstrated. Next I told them to wiggle their rears -- and demonstrated. I ordered them to stretch -- and demonstrated. Then I told them to kick their legs high. I demonstrated that, too. And as I demonstrated I felt a pretty solid "thump" right on the seat of my pants. The room was immediately silent. I slowly turned to look at the half-dozen kids behind me. All six of them were staring wide-eyed. One of them had her hands pressed to her glowing red face. I looked right at her. "Nessa, who kicked me?" I asked. She giggled behind her hands and backed away from me. "It was you, wasn't it?" I prompted. She tried valiantly to say, "Yes, Miss," and "I'm sorry," while clutching her stomach and laughing, so it didn't come out sounding terribly sincere. "Hmmm," I said, "This might require a citation home. In a stern "announcerish" voice I said, Dear Mr. & Mrs. Nessa's parents, your daughter kicked me in the rear today." At this point the whole class -- including me -- lost it. We roared laughing. As we settled down and were gasping for breath the communicating door between my room and the next-door teacher's opened. He stuck his head in the classroom and, in his cute Texas drawl, said, "Hey, ya'll better settle down over here or I'll have to wup some butt..." Of course we fell out laughing again. Poor Mr. Texas waved his hands on the air and said, "Ya'll are nuts!" It was another 5 minutes before we could manage to get back on task. _______________ Now that you've been entertained, please indulge me for a moment: Go to Belle of the Brawl and vote for me in the caption contest NOW! You will find the ballot in the right sidebar. Please, do not read the competition. Just vote for Quilly!

A Rare Moment

2006-11-16T07:47:00.000-08:00

For a few moments today I actually had the joy of feeling like a teacher. I was working one-on-one with Mona on an introduction to division lesson. Mona has severe math anxiety and it interfers with her learning. Today my slow careful patience with her paid off. I got to see her eyes brighten when the light bulb came on -- and that's what I went into teaching for. Those light bulbs don't light like they used to. Kids have less and less time to spend on hands on learning. These days everything is pretty much, "repeat after me." If you want to hear what else I have to say on this topic, visit my guest post at Belle of the Brawl. I am Sar's Thursday Guest.

A Matter of Stress

2006-11-15T07:54:00.000-08:00

More work, but not more time. Higher expectations, no appreciation. New curriculum, no training. Memos today detailing work to be finished yesterday. I wake every morning with a headache and a sore jaw from grinding my teeth in my sleep. It's all about scores, not kids. Less and less I am a teacher. More and more I am a task master.

Past Highlights

2006-11-14T07:06:00.000-08:00

I always thought these things were made up until I received a few myself. An excerpt from a child's paper (1997): Martin Luther King was a great man. He believed everybody should be treated the same even if they were different colors and religions. Some people didn't like Rev. King's ideas. One of them shot him in the head and he died. Rev. King is still dead today.

Generous to a Fault

2006-11-13T12:14:00.000-08:00

We're out of Kleenex in my classroom. This is allergy season. My nose is running like a faucet, and the Kleenex box is empty. The Kleenex is mine. I bought it. It sits on my desk -- but I am not the one who used a whole box in just a couple of days. In fact I was quite shocked to visit the newly opened box and find it empty. I picked up the empty box, turned to the class and said, "My Kleenex are gone. I just bought this box and it shouldn't be empty yet. I need to blow my nose. Since you guys used all my Kleenex I think it's only fair if you all give me something to blow my nose with." I turned to the child closest to me - it was Ike. I said, "I have to blow. Give me your sleeve." He extended his arm, holding the cuff of his long sleeved-shirt in his fingers and stretching the sleeve taut. "Okay," he said. "Just don't use the side I do."

I'll Be Quiet Now

2006-11-12T13:55:00.000-08:00

When I was a teenager I had a cyst on my vocal cords and though the cyst is long gone my voice was left all husky, smoky and low. It's not so apparent in real life, but something about phone technology enhances those qualities. At least it used to -- I hadn't had anyone mention it in years. When I was young and worked in Spokane, Washington in a bowling alley, it was my job to call the league members and remind them of their bowling night. Because of my voice, my phone calls were very popular with the men and quite detested by the woman. I actually had men come to the back office to meet me, and women come to the back office to threaten me for calling their men. The men always left disappointed. The women always left relieved. They were anticipating Marilyn Monroe and found Jane Average. Last week I was asked to make phone calls for the church and get RSVP's for our luncheon this afternoon. Without a thought, I left many messages on many answering machines. Today as I was helping clear the tables after the dinner one of the men said to me, "I really liked your phone message. I don't suppose I could get you to call me again sometime?" I looked up at his wife in shock. She nodded her head and said, "He played it at least four times before I erased it." Okay then. I want off the phone committee.

Lord Flufferson

2006-11-12T06:34:00.000-08:00

He who was was formerly known as King of the Coffee Table has become Ruler of The Computer Desk (which resides in my kitchen). Yesterday he was quite disgruntled that his sister's face appeared before him so often. He requested equal billing. Flufferson also wanted me to tell you that he encouraged me with hugs and kisses, not death threats.

Unplugged

2006-11-11T16:10:00.000-08:00

Christmas, my cat, tried to kill me this morning. I was in my bed sleeping oh-so- peacefully when -- Pft! -- My medical equipment shut off. Fortunately, when I stopped breathing my brain went on alert and insisted I wake now, so I woke. My first inclination was to grab the cat and kill her. Before that could happen the clock distracted me. I'd overslept by almost 45 minutes! Yikes! That meant I had time to get ready and leave, but I did not have time to come to blogland and play with you. I am sorry if you missed me, but I am here now. As for Chrissy, I've decided she is the most brilliant kitty in the world to know that her momma was going to be late if she slept just one minute longer. And she did pick the most effective (non-painful) way to wake me completely in the least amount of time. Therefore, I am waiving the attempted murder charges -- but I am not expunging them from her records, just in case ...

Money $pa

2006-11-10T00:59:00.000-08:00

I spent about 3 hours this evening at a beauty spa. I was hor d'ouvered, champaigned, pedicured, manicured, massaged, aroma therapied and cosmetically enhanced -- and it didn't cost a dime. Open house at the beauty spa: held so the "have nots" can get a glimpse into the world of the "haves." I don't know if it is my backwoods Idaho upbringing, my teacher's salary, just plain common sense, or just plain jealousy, but I walked out of that place wondering why folks are willing to pay big buck$ for some of that stuff. With the exception of the massages, the greatest difference I saw between the services at the beauty spa and the services at my regular beauty salon were the prices. A $55.00 manicure doesn't last any longer than a $25.00 manicure. A $60.00 pedicure doesn't last any longer than a $30.00 pedicure. An $80.00 dollar haircut needs to be trimmed in the same amount of time a $30.00 cut needs trimming -- and it doesn't look any different, either. So what's the big deal? Somebody who finds it necessary to say, "I just paid $80.00 for this haircut," doesn't make me think, "Damn, you're lucky." They make me think I wish I'd have seen them coming when they still had some of that money. Granted, champaigne and the salmon mousse can't be found in my low rate beauty shop, but when I want champaigne and salmon mousse I generally go to a restaurant, not to a place where loose bits of hair hoover in the air. I am glad I made my visit to the beauty spa. Now I know what I'm not missing ... though I really did enjoy that massage.

Lost in Translation

2006-11-09T06:45:00.000-08:00

I teach second language learners. We are having half days this week. School in the morning, and report cards and parent-teacher conferences in the afternoon. The combination of freedom and stress is a bit distracting to the students. This can lead to unusual language confusions. The whole school assembles on the playground every morning, weather permitting, and we all salute the flag together. Then we move to our seperate classes in an orderly manner. Fifth graders -- being the eldest kids -- are last to file off the playground. My class is usually last, period. That is because mine is the closest room and if we left before the others they would have a traffic jam in the hall as we paused to enter our room. Anyway: the playground was empty save my class. The Principal and Assistant Principal were waiting by the fence for us to pass. Most mornings they offer encouraging words to the students as they walk by. Yesterday my class was standing in two impressively straight lines. I said them them, "Shall we go?" They respond crisply and in unison, "Yes!" I was a bit taken back. This wasn't something I taught them. Not only that, they didn't move. I repeated, "Shall we go?" Again, crisply and in unison they shouted, "Yes!" And again, they remained stationary. I was at a bit of a loss. We now have the undivided and highly amused attention of both of my supervisors, and I am looking impressively ineffectual. Again I said, with perhaps a bit of edge to my voice, "Shall. We. Go?" Even more loudly and emphatically my students shouted, "Yes!" I closed my eyes, took a slow deep breath, then said very softly, "Well then, move!" My two line leaders looked very startled, said "Oh!" and stepped lively. The rest of the class followed. As we passed by, our waiting school administrators offered their standard morning encouragments, but I couldn't help notice they did it with smirks on their faces.

Not So Wordless

2006-11-08T07:51:00.000-08:00

I am the guest blogger at Waking Ambrose today. Please stop by and take a peek.

Wordless Wednesday

2006-11-08T06:24:00.000-08:00

Let There Be Peace

2006-11-07T06:23:00.000-08:00

Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me, Let there be peace on Earth, the peace that was meant to be; With God our creator, children all are we, Let us walk with each other in perfect harmony. Let peace begin with me; let this be the moment now. With every step I take let this be my solemn vow: To take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally. Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me. Each and every one of us is an intrument of world peace. Americans, as you vote, vote with that in mind. Peace will not come accidently. It will take effort and deliberation. Please take a moment to stop by Path to Peace and add your voice to the many who think that all people have the unalienable right of peace.

Twenty Minutes Past Breakfast

2006-11-06T09:43:00.000-08:00

The Background: I work at an "at risk" school. Breakfast and lunch are 100% free. Our entire school eats breakfast together every morning at the same time. This morning we had Total cereal, orange juice and 1% milk. Mini pancakes were available, but there was no syrup or butter (sugar and fat have been cut from the menus) so very few kids ate them. The Story: I put a couple of Air Wick Fresh-Matic air fresheners in my classroom over the weekend. I set them to spray every twenty minutes. This morning my reading class came in and settled around my chair. I opened a book and began to read aloud. The air freshener sprayed and suddenly the air was filled with the scent of papayas and mangos. My students inhaled as a group, exhaled on a sigh, and four of them said in unison, "Now I'm hungry!" The rest agreed. I calmed them and went back to reading the story -- about hungry mice who were trying to steal fresh vegetables from a cat-guarded garden. Rudy said, "My breakfast wore off!" Issaic agreed, "Yeah, even vegetables sound good."

Terminal Stupidity

2006-11-06T07:37:00.000-08:00

Some days you're the windshield; Some days you're the bug. I decided to customize my email program. I have incredimail and I like it very much. I use it to consolidate several different email addresses. I went into the program the other day to delete an obsolete address I haven't used in several months -- and I accidently deleted the entire program. I shreiked. I jumped up and down. I said words my sister, Caryl, would not approve. Then I attempted to restore the lost info. It pretty much worked -- except all of my history is gone. All of my saved mail is gone. All of my email addresses are gone. If you want to hear from me, I'd suggest you send me an email so I can replace your address.

Not a Cindrella Story

2006-11-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

About a month ago I promised to tell you more about me. For a glimpse into how I became who I am today:

Cinderella stories didn't mean the same thing to me that they did to other little girls. My mother died when I was three. My father remarried almost immediately thereafter. It was not a happy union, so this is not a happy story. If you are in the mood for handsome princes, glass slippers and fairy godmothers, don't continue.

Teachers Aren't People

2006-11-04T11:20:00.000-08:00

Some of you may be surprised by this news, but teachers aren't people. They are public school furniture and do not function outside of school hours. Just ask any first grader. My first teaching job in Vegas was 1st grade remedial reading. One of my students was a fire-haired, freckle faced, jack-in-the-box named Jordan. Jordan couldn't read because he had yet to expand his attention span beyond 20 seconds. Jordan talked frequently about his momma cat and her kittens and it came to be that I was convinced I need one. Jordan's mother brought the cat to me after school one day. Jordan had picked the kitten out. It was fire-haired, just like him. The next morning in class Jordan's attention span seemed to be even shorter than usual. He kept bouncing out of his chair and crawling around the room. At one point his face was pressed to the floor, his butt was up in the air and he was trying to shove his head under the wardrobe. I snapped, "Jordan! What are you doing?" He said, "Looking for the kitten." "The kitten doesn't live here," I said. "Now come and sit down." He plopped back on his butt, still sitting on the carpet, and demanded, "Where does it live?" "In my apartment," I told him. "He's probably curled up on my bed sound asleep." Jordon frowned skeptically. "You have an apartment?" Harvey, sitting on my left queried in disbelief, "You have a bed?" Bridgette, clearly in awe, whispered, "Do you sleep?" I assured all six of my students that I had an apartment. I slept. I ate food. I did dishes, took showers, watched TV and did all of the normal things other people do. Juan Jose, despite having touched me many times, slowly reaced out his fingers and touched my hand. His eyes widened in surprise. "She's really real!" He breathed.

Teaching Vocabulary

2006-11-03T06:30:00.000-08:00

This morning, Mona, one of my students, brought in the word "over-achiever" and asked me to explain it. The conversation involved the whole class, but it was an unplanned, totally off the cuff, 30 second lesson. I promptly forgot it and we moved on to reading, math, and lunch. After lunch I stood in front of the class trying to convey the idea of exaggeration. I was deliberately overacting. Ike told me I was weird. I told him it was part of my job description, then added, "It says in my contract I have to act silly at least twice per day." Moe immediately mumbled, "Boy, you're really an over-achiever."

Vote For Me!

2006-11-02T23:25:00.000-08:00

Vote for me at Sar's. Look in the sidebar for the caption contest.

A Post a Day

2006-11-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

Do me a favor: go by Sar's and look for me in her sidebar. You will see that my blog provided the Word Play Wednesday Inspiration of the week. And, if you go to Megan's blog, you can see the painting I named (a contest was held). The prize was a print (copy) of the painting. I'm afraid the original has already sold, but look around the site. Megan has many bold, glorious originals awaiting adoption. I signed on to the "write a-post-a-day in November, no matter what" movement. I figured, how hard could it be? I usually one post per day anyway. Well, the thing is, it is report card time and I am up to my ears in ungraded papers -- probably caused by all that time I spend here with you. On top of that, the first day of November was Wordless Wednesday and I couldn't introduce this seal and tell anyone what I was doing without talking .... Still, I did post yesterday, even if I wasn't flying the seal. So, I hope the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) Police are okay with that. They didn't say what kind of post or how long it had to be.