Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Lotsa Luck

What do you call a day when a big chunk of your siding blows off and your car flashes three warning lights?

Lucky!

Because that day was this day, a day I was already off from work for my annual physical.

And not to boast? But I got it all taken care of and had oysters for lunch, dining right on the river in the glorious autumn sunshine.

I know, right?

Monday, October 30, 2017

Ready to Learn

"Ms. S.?" a student asked this morning. "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Am I in trouble?" I replied, eyebrows higher than before.

She shook her head and I followed her into the hall.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened last Thursday," she told me and paused.

I remembered what she meant. She and her writing partner had been off-task, and I reprimanded them for using their iPads for something other than they should have been. I nodded, and she continued.

"I think there was a misunderstanding," she began, and calmly laid out her side of the event.

Oh I told her my perspective, too, and after talking a little, and quickly came to a meeting of the minds, agreeing to communicate more clearly in the future.

"Hey listen," I said, "before we stepped back inside. "I want you to know that I wasn't mad before. I was willing to let it go."

She nodded.

"But your way was much better!" I continued.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

Positive Energy

With two kittens and a puppy in the house there is a lot of chasing and wrestling and climbing and clawing and wrestling.

Joy!

Saturday, October 28, 2017

Infrastructure

We spent a beautiful autumn afternoon walking five miles on a clear trail along a creek, through the woods, up the ridges and down through the hollers, out one boardwalk and across 11 bridges... gotta love those national parks!

Friday, October 27, 2017

Do Tell

I remember my parents coming home from parent-teacher conference day. "I told them that if you give them any trouble to let me know and I would take care of it immediately," my father always told me.

I've often wondered how my teachers replied to him, because he really needn't have threatened. I did not have the slightest inclination to draw any negative attention to myself; school was a place of great success for me, and I loved it there.

I figure I conducted my 500th or so conference today, and my dad's words came back to me at the very end of the day. The student has been pretty successful so far this year: her grades are As and Bs, and her teachers rated her studentship skills as above average. A first generation citizen of our country, her parents came here from Vietnam in the late 1970's, and I know her mom from the time she worked as a custodian in our building. "You email me!" she said as they stood to go at the end of our meeting. "Right away! Tell me everything that's a problem!"

"Okay," I agreed, "but that will be a short email!"

We laughed, and she gave her daughter a hug as they walked out the door.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Simple Pleasures

Lucy's dear friend Cooper turned one year old today, and so of course there was a party this evening. Seven humans and five full-sized dogs piled into a cozy 10 x 10 living room. There was dog cake and people cake and water and wine to celebrate, and, amazingly, not a drop was spilled.

Despite an avalanche of new toys and treats for the celebration, the favorite toy of the evening was...

the empty paper towel roll.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Overheard in Sixth Grade

At the end of a writing partner conference:

"I think you're going to be a great storyteller when you grow up!"

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

No Yellin, Just Gellin

Today was just one of those days when everything seemed to work out just right in my classroom. Most students worked diligently with their new writing partners, taking advantage of fresh pairs of eyes and ears to work through the revision checklists for their personal narratives with. I was able to get to almost everyone and troubleshoot or answer questions. Many students asked if they could continue working at home, and who was I to turn down such a generous offer? With final drafts due Thursday and student-led conferences on Friday, it seemed like we were finally coming together as a writing workshop.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Share and Share Alike

Despite the fact that I did not actually go to the corn maze this year, somehow my perennial promise got around. When I got back to my classroom on Friday, a plump little pumpkin was sitting on my desk. "For you," a student told me, "because, y'know." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

I did know, and I took that punkin home and roasted it up that very night. All weekend we enjoyed it-- pumpkin biscuits, pumpkin cinnamon rolls, and of course! Pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, which I brought in to share with my homeroom this morning.


Sunday, October 22, 2017

Head to Toe

On a warm afternoon in October it seemed like a good idea to shed my shoes for a pedicure and then to shed that hair I've grown since June, too. So we took a little personal grooming trip up to our local shopping center, and now?

I'm ready for the fall social season.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Home Improvement

"You should come to Home Depot more often!" Heidi told me this afternoon.

We were standing in the tool aisle, but it could have been nifty containers, or maybe lighting. Our cart had a couple of mums, a keyhole saw (for our pumpkin), some velcro wire ties, and a clamp lamp.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it makes you so happy!" she answered, and she was right. 

All around me I saw possibilities for improvement. That washer, those light fixtures, that key chain, snow shovel, arbor vitae-- I knew just the place for all of them, and on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in October, with a 1 day work week behind me, and Halloween just around the corner, it all seemed within reach.

Friday, October 20, 2017

May the Road Rise up to Greet You

I parked the car this morning, grabbed my lunch bag and heavy, heavy backpack and started my long, long hike up to school. Halfway there, my path merged with a throng of students coming from the bus drop-off point.

"Ms. S!" a student hailed me with a genuine smile. He is one of the few kids I have had to call home about; we've gone to head to head more than a few times, and he is one of my genuine concerns. "I missed you!" he continued as I came up next to him, and then put out his arm and pulled me into a friendly embrace.

And what a quick and easy walk it was from there!

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Plus One

Since Heidi was working every day we were at the beach, it seemed a shame to head home the minute she was done. And so?

We didn't!

Instead, we enjoyed dinner on an oceanside patio, and one more morning at the beach, complete with perfect weather, sandwiches from Taste (no longer unlimited), dolphins, pelicans, hawks, and an eagle.

Once in the car, the traffic was light, and we made it home in no time at all.

I think I can make it through the workday tomorrow.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Awkward

I was walking on the beach this morning when I saw a blonde woman coming toward me with a couple of yorkies. She was dressed in seashore chic and wearing sunglasses, but I thought she was a few years older than I am. As she approached, I wondered if it was someone I knew back when I lived here.

Lucy bounded over to see her dogs and I followed, peering closely into her face. “Are you Gaye?” I asked her, because for a moment I really thought it might be my friend.

She looked at me in confusion and a bit of horror. "I'm sorry?" she replied.

I shook my head. "Is your name 'Gaye'?" I clarified with a laugh.

"Oh!" she looked relieved. "No. I'm Debbie."

"I just thought you might be someone I knew," I explained.

She nodded and hurried on her way.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

In the Present Moment

Lucy and I headed north up the beach on our walk this morning for three reasons. I wanted to go the opposite way from yesterday; I wanted to start into the wind so that it would be at our backs on the return; and I wanted to explore that section of oceanfront that used to be "ours" when we lived here over 30 years ago.

We lived in four places just a couple of blocks off the beach in the stretch from 47th to 58th Streets. The biggest change was that the "new" Cavalier is gone, demolished to make way for some multi-million dollar homes, and a few of the houses that line the way were different, but the beach was pretty much the same: wide and empty in the way I used to love it in the off-season.

We walked all the way to 58th, and before turning around I headed to the trashcan at the foot of the walkway from the street to dispose of a bag of Lucy's. Up there the seagrass and dunes cut the wind, and I remembered some of the cold days I came to a little windbreak right here where the warmth of the sun did not have to compete with the frigid ocean breeze.

The sky was impossibly blue, like today, and the muffled surf was a lullaby as I lay on the warm sand and breathed the salt air. The light was white, so white I could still see it even with my eyes closed. And time was suspended, then like now, and so now like then, I lay down and closed my eyes.

Monday, October 16, 2017

... Is Still a Day at the Beach

There must have been 25 dolphins playing in the breakers this morning. "I guess they don't mind the rain," Heidi said as we watched them jump and splash from the shelter of our balcony. It turns out Lucy didn't mind it either. It's 42 blocks down to the fishing pier and back, but she must have covered three times that distance on our walk, chasing seagulls and bubbles and running away from the scary surf. She never found the courage to actually enter the ocean, but that was okay with me-- she got just as much of a work out with no rinsing required.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Memory Lane

The road was familiar with many personal landmarks: that's where we used to meet Aunt Harriett and Larry halfway; that's where Pauly found her dogs; that's where we used to stop for barbecue; that's where we saw the Talking Heads; that's where we were catering when I rode to the event on the back of Curtis's motorcycle; that's where you turn to go to my grad school; that's where Courtney went to high school and there's her college; that's where the toll plaza used to be-- we would make the passengers toss dimes over the car until they hit the basket; that's where you turn to go to the mall; that's where we ran out of gas on the way to the movies; that's where we found Noah; that's where we used to work; that's where Elaine lived.

And then we were here-- at our dog-friendly hotel in an oceanfront room with a balcony.

What a trip it's been already!

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Worth the Trip

A few years ago when I was surprised by a bumper crop of peachy mama peppers, beautiful apricots-and-cream-colored peppers with all the flavor and none of the heat of habaneros, I found that dehydrating and grinding them produced the most fragrant chili powder imaginable, so wonderful that I find myself sneaking a pinch into almost everything I cook.

I first acquired them from my local CSA, but otherwise the peppers are rare, so much so that the only way I can grow them at all is to save the seeds from the year before. Imagine my disappointment, then, when my pepper seeds were slow to start this spring and still just tiny sprouts by mid-July. I know these tropical fruits are late producing, and I nurtured them through a cool, dry summer, but by the end of September, there was only a handful of peppers, nowhere near enough to produce enough powder to make it through to next fall.

Fortunately, although I am no longer a summer subscriber, I know my CSA farmer vends his crops at a farmers market on the north side of the city, and so Heidi and I took a little Saturday morning road trip up to that little village. Oh my! We found parking right away across from a picturesque elementary school on a street lined with neat cottages and cute bungalows. There was a little grocer on the ground floor of a Victorian house on the corner selling organic meats and other local products. The market itself had about 7 stalls, one selling hand dyed wool and felt with 2 sheep in a pen, a couple bakers, a pan-African cooked-to-order stall, and a few farmers, including my guy. The peachy mamas were there too, and we scored a half bushel for a bargain price.

Munching on halves of a ginormous almond croissant, we drove home through the city, past embassies, parks, and monuments, a felted pumpkin kit and peppers in the back. "Why don't we live there?" I asked Heidi.

Friday, October 13, 2017

Paradigm Shift

Heidi is going to a 3 day conference at the beach next week, and she asked me if I wanted to take some personal days and come along..

"I can't!" I said. "It's the corn maze field trip AND the day of peace!"

She was disappointed,

And so over the next few days I gave it some serious thought. Finally it hit me. My gosh! It's the corn maze field trip and the day of peace!

Why wouldn't I want to be playing with my dog at the beach instead?

Thursday, October 12, 2017

AKA

Sixth week of school, and I’m making my way through the roster, having a quick conference with every student. “When is it going to be my turn?” asked Andrew.

“Not for a little bit,” I answered. “I’m going alphabetically backwards by first name. That puts you at the bottom of the list today.” I smiled apologetically.

“Wait! How come Alex just went?” he asked.

“Who’s Alex?” I replied with furrowed brow.

Andrew looked over his shoulder.

“That’s Nelson,” I told him.

He shrugged, and I made eye contact with his buddy.

“It is my nickname,” the second guy admitted. “It even says so in the information system.

I did not doubt him. “What does your math teacher call you?” I asked.

“Nelson,” he answered.

“What about social studies?”

“Nelson,” he admitted

“Science?”

“Nelson.”

“Well, Alex," I said, "I will make sure they call you by the right name from now on, BUT...”

I paused, and his smile drooped a tiny bit.

“I am going to miss Nelson! He is a great guy!”

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Goosebumps

When I was a kid I couldn't get enough of ghost stories or any other creepy supernatural tale. There's just something about cooler weather, golden afternoons, and dark nights that makes me want to settle in with something scary, and I know from my teaching that many kids are the same way.

It's been ages since I've had that pleasure, though. I trace the decline of my enjoyment to 1980, the year I saw Friday the 13th. Back then there was no such thing as a slasher movie, and I can still remember the sick feeling I had as I trudged out of the theater along with the other shocked and silent patrons. We were unsure what we had just seen. A couple years later I had a conversation I can't forget. "I cried when I saw Friday the 13th," a colleague told me, "because I had never seen someone killed before."

Imagine that! A world where we had never seen simulated death and dismemberment! It seems like a very long time ago. And over the decades, it also seems that such graphic violence has completely taken the place of a good, old-fashioned boo! of a scare.

I suppose there have been some exceptions. The Sixth Sense (1999) comes to mind, and although there was plenty of blood and gore in that movie, too, somehow it had a gentler sensibility. I also liked Disney's Hocus Pocus (1993); it was spooky and entertaining.  And the TV show The Ghost Whisperer was a little hokie, but satisfying, but that went off the air in 2010.

To be honest, I think I had given up on the whole idea of October goosebumps, that is until I happened upon the podcast Spooked, by the producers of Snap Judgment. Well-produced, compellingly-told true stories of ghosts and other dark and scary things, I was hooked from episode 1.

I sometimes listen to podcasts to help me go to sleep at night, but when I tuned into this one? Man! I was wide awake and itching for another episode. Check it out-- it's really that good.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

An Allegory

At this point in the season the tomatoes are still sweet and tangy, but they are fewer and their skins are a little tough since the waning hours of sunlight means a longer ripening time. Even so, there were plenty of cherry tomatoes when I went to the garden yesterday afternoon.

Several years ago I found an excellent recipe for those times when we are blessed with such profusion. It involves lots of olive oil, shallots, garlic, basil, rosemary, and a long slow cooking time that takes maximum advantage of all that pectin in all those tiny tomato skins resulting in a silky and flavorful sauce.

It's kind of cool to watch the tomatoes burst as they cook, each individual losing itself for the good of the whole. Tonight, though, the pot was full of recalcitrant, tough-skinned little tomatoes, seemingly unwilling to yield.

Oh, I could have taken a masher to the batch of them and crushed them into submission, but I didn't. I hoped that with a little extra time and patience they would come along, and? They did.

(Except for that one little yellow pear tomato. That one I totally squished. After all, we had to eat.)

Monday, October 9, 2017

Home Alone

"Whoa!" Heidi said as I made the right turn to go home. "I thought we were going straight to the movies!"

"But we have some groceries that should be refrigerated," I told her.

She shook her head. "Lucy is not going to like that!" she replied.

"We have enough time to take her out for a quick little walk," I said, but she was unconvinced. Still, we had our tickets and we had our groceries, so we followed my plan.

As we shut the door behind us to go to the movie, a muffled howl rose up. "Is that our dog?" Heidi asked wide-eyed. Another soulful bay confirmed that it was. "That hurts my heart," she said as we dashed to the car.

On the way to the theater Heidi was pensive. "I hope she doesn't do anything destructive," she said more to herself than me.

After the movie we opened the door, unsure of what would await us. A small mangled heap of cardboard and plastic was on the living room floor, but everything else seemed intact. "What is it?" I asked.

"The toothbrush I just bought," Heidi answered.

Hm. I guess Lucy showed us!

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Not Always Right

It was a long wait for some popcorn. The line snaked beyond the post-and-ropes they had set up and into the food court, but this was, after all, the premiere Chicago popcorn place. On the Sunday of a three day weekend, we were willing to wait for our own little bag of the cheese and caramel mix,along with a small canister for the hostess of the open house we were attending later in the afternoon.

Plus? Did I mention the free samples? Maybe that's why the line was so long. At any rate, we chatted amiably as we moved forward at an efficient pace. At last the young woman behind the counter spoke her magic words to the customer directly in front of us, a well-dressed woman who looked perhaps to be in her sixties. "What can I get you?" she said, stepping from the kitchen door where she had interrupted her service a few moments before to have an animated conversation with whoever was in there.

The order was slightly complicated, involving a substitution of one caramel corn for another, but it was handled with alacrity, until as the second scoop of popcorn cascaded into the jumbo bag, the customer pointed haughtily at a couple of stray pieces on top of the glass counter and said, "That does not look good at all."

The employee stopped, and tilted her head. "Excuse me?" she replied.

"That looks dirty," the woman elaborated.

"Well," the other woman shrugged with a smile, "we are really busy!" She pointed her chin at the line behind us.

"Not too busy for you to socialize in the kitchen," the other woman said archly.

Behind the counter, the young woman's eyes narrowed, her smile frozen. She flicked the popcorn into the trash. "We can call my manager if you'd like," she said steadily, and when there was no reply, she returned to filling the bag.

"Have you ever been to the stores in Chicago?" her customer asked in a conversational tone.

The employee's shoulders relaxed, and her smile warmed again. "No, I haven't had the pleasure," she answered, holding the full bag out.

"Well," the other woman spat, "they don't play there. The service is," she paused, "impeccable." She took the bag of popcorn, and moved self-righteously to the cashier.

From behind us, a concerned voice piped up. "Are you almost out of cheese corn?" he asked with a little desperation, because the bin was pretty darn low.

"Don't worry," said the employee, "that's what I was talking to the kitchen about. It will be out here shortly."

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Many Happy Returns

"It seems like we just had cake last week!" Heidi remarked as we finished our shopping for Josh's birthday celebration last Friday.

"We did!" I reminded her. "For Elaine's birthday."

And tonight, for the third week in a row? Another birthday party! It's Emily's family dinner, and yes! There will be cake!

Friday, October 6, 2017

Involuntary

"...and so we want every sixth grader to volunteer in at least two different focus areas this year," our IB Coordinator was addressing a group of students in our school lobby who were about to attend a service fair and meet representatives of several local organizations to find out how they might get involved.

"Oh, fuck no!" said the girl to my right under her breath.

I tilted my head and furrowed my brow in disbelief. We made eye contact; she frowned. "Did you just cuss?" I asked her.

She shrugged angrily.

"Let's step into the office," I suggested firmly.

I gestured to the row of seats lining the wall in waiting-room formation. She plopped down defensively. "My sister said this school was going to try to make me do something like this!" she started angrily. "And she told me that I don't need to do nothing but focus on my grades!"

"What do your parents say?" I asked.

"What parents?" she answered.

I realized I was looming over her and sat down in the next seat. "How old is your sister?" I asked.

"The one that said that? 23," she told me.

"Who else lives in your house with you?" I asked.

"My grandfather," she said, "but he's in our country, and my other 2 sisters."

"How old are they?" I asked.

"32 and 29. My oldest sister has two kids," she explained.

"Well," I said, "the service requirement here is because we think it's important for everyone to think about how they can help."

"Our family already gives away clothes to our church," she told me.

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

She frowned again. "Because there are people who need them!" she answered in exasperation.

"That's right," I said, "and you want to help. That counts for part of your service here."

"How can giving away some old clothes change the world?" she challenged me.

"It makes a difference when people see a need and try to do something about it," I said, "that's exactly how the world changes. The people who are here for the fair know that. All we want you guys to do is to see if there is anything you are interested in helping with. You don't have to do anything, but there are some cool groups here. Don't you want to check them out?"

She nodded. I could see she was interested. "There's no cussing, though," I told her.

"Fine," she shrugged and stood up. 

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Where Have You Gone

...my little girl, little girl?

Today Lucy got her first real clip at the groomers. All her sun-bleached golden locks were left behind on the floor of the pup salon. Her adult coat is a soft and gorgeous dark red, and she looks great, but I miss the shaggy little puppy we dropped off this morning.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Reaching the Low Bar

I woke at 2 am to the dog staring at me. She's had some on and off digestive issues over the last week or so, and I thought it best to get up and take her outside. I had to pee, myself, though, and so I padded in the dark to the bathroom and straight into a cold puddle of diarrhea.

It oozed fouly through my toes as I hurried to complete my business and stuff both feet into the sink and under some warm running water. Then Lucy and I headed outside, where she wandered about squatting and squirting for some time.

When at last we returned to the house, I still had to clean the bathroom and open a few windows to air out the place. I slipped back into bed around 2:45, at which time the puppy and the kittens, all wide awake, chose to scamper loudly through the room.

Rest was not easy and I was merely dozing when the alarm snapped my eyes open at 5. The good news? It didn't seem that the day could possibly get any worse, and it didn't!

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Frustrating and Innovating

I feel fortunate that teachers in our system get a relatively generous annual budget to order supplies. Over the years I have been able to acquire almost everything I need for a well-equipped classroom. Oh, don't get me wrong, I supplement quite a bit out of pocket, mostly books and specialty items, but as far as the basics are concerned? I can order what I need.

For example, each of the six tables in my room is supplied with a basket of scissors, glue, colored pencils, markers, post-it notes, a pencil sharpener, a stapler, and a tape dispenser. It is this latter item, there to allow students to affix printed resources into their writing notebooks, that most delights and distracts the sixth graders at the beginning of the year.

On any given day, there is tape on their foreheads, tape on their cheeks, tape on their mouths, and tape on their fingers. They tape the markers and glue sticks closed, make tape balls and stick them to the bottom of the table, and wrap the stapler in tape. Please don't waste our tape, is my constant refrain, because I know that each roll costs over two bucks.

Today, though, the tape mania reached a new pinnacle. "Look Ms. S!" a student waved, "I hurt myself!" He flipped his wrist over to show me what looked like a smear of blood oozing from a staple embedded in his flesh.

It was a pretty convincing example of special effects make-up done completely with a single staple, marker, and of course, scotch tape. His work was actually so impressive, I couldn't even be mad. "Wow!" I told him, "you are ready for Halloween!"

He grinned in appreciation.

"Now quit wasting our tape!"

Monday, October 2, 2017

Won't Back Down

Mondays can be tough, and waking up to the news of another mass shooting did not make this day any easier. At 5 am the death toll was an awful 20, but when I looked again at lunch, it had climbed to more than 50. Nothing about the Vegas incident makes any sense to me; it seems to lacks motive, ideological or otherwise. What's to be done in times like this when a single man can kill and injure almost 600 people in less than half an hour?

When the fire alarm went off this afternoon at 1:45, we assumed it was a required drill until the administrator in our meeting said, "Damn! Someone must have pulled it," before dashing from the room. With the school under construction we lingered outside in this glorious October day wondering silently where the fire engines would go since they must respond to any unplanned alarms.

How hard it was to keep from scanning areas of height or cover, or speculating about the possibility of someone who wished us harm drawing us out into the light.

And just a few minutes ago, when I woke up my computer to write this post, there were some reports that Tom Petty has died or is near death. Hoping it was fake news in the same category as Morgan Freeman and David Hasselhof, some quick research verifies that he is quite gravely ill.

Something I've always loved about Petty is his writing: his lyrics are clever and wise, witty and inspirational, and fun. Just the remedy for a day like today.


Sunday, October 1, 2017

But What Do I Know?

Heidi and Lucy went to their first obedience class today and both came home ebullient. "They gave tickets to people and dogs who were doing well," Heidi told me. "Whoever has the most at the end of the course gets fifty percent off their next class," she continued. "The most you can get in one session is ten, and guess how many we got?" she asked.

I knew it was ten without her telling me, and I was proud of my girls, but the teacher in me paused. What is the objective of fostering such competition? I wondered. It was clearly motivating to Heidi, but she has both experience and aptitude in the area of dog training. How do those who are less successful feel to be thrown into an unexpected contest? Although it appears that they have nothing to lose, if they feel unable to win, the structure runs the risk of being demotivating.

Fortunately for me, I live with the winners.