Thursday, December 31, 2020

The Beholder

Thursday is recycling day in our complex, and today, the first Thursday since Christmas was a big day on the curb. The rule is everything must be out no earlier than 6 and no later than 9 A.M. so when I took Lucy for her first out of the day, we walked by several brown bags filled with cans and bottles and many, many broken-down boxes. The one that caught my eye? Barbie's Dream Camper, tucked between an empty case of wine and a Chewy box. 

Fifty years ago Barbie's Country Camper, orange and yellow with a cool California vibe, was parked under our Christmas tree. In retrospect, I know it was meant to be my wow gift, everything any eight-year-old girl might ever dream of for the holiday, something so amazing I never knew I wanted and so never asked for. But I was not a Barbie kind of a little girl, and so I was a little underwhelmed. My friends thought it was amazing, though, and I understood how lucky I was to have received such a thing, bragged about it a little even. 

By where the box was placed, I knew exactly what little girl in our neighborhood got the camper under her tree this Christmas. She's a pistol of a 6-year-old kid, all go go go in her pink and purple sneakers and tutus. 

I wonder if she liked her camper.

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Fulfilling the Promise of the Gifts

I got a few fun things for the holidays-- among them a hand-forged Japanese bread knife and some copper canelé molds. Just preparing to use those beautiful tools as they were meant to be has given shape to the last few days.

First, feeding the sourdough levain for the bread, coaxing it back to life after a week in the refrigerator, then weighing, mixing, turning, resting, raising, forming, fermenting, and baking the loaves with the anticipation of finally using my knife to slice through them without crushing or tearing has been very gratifying.

Likewise, scraping vanilla beans and steeping them in milk, whisking eggs and sugar and butter and flour together, tempering the mixture with the hot vanilla milk and stirring in dark rum all so the batter can sit in the fridge for 48 hours until it will be time to coat my molds with a combination of beeswax and butter before filling them to bake into that classic French confection of crackly caramelized crust and tender custard within has also been a fine way to spend my time.

Tuesday, December 29, 2020

The Power of Words

 Lucy was not sure at all about the family approaching us on the trail this afternoon. Catching sight of the four of them with their adorable dog, she tensed and let out a low growl. 

"Look!" called one of the little girls. "That dog looks like a big version of Boomer!"

She was right, our dogs did resemble each other.

"Awwwwww," her sister and mom responded. "She's so cute!"

It must have been the tone of voice, or perhaps it was the sheer admiration, that disarmed Lucy, but whatever it was, she relaxed her shoulders, lifted her tail, and pranced happily past.

"Have a great hike!" the dad said us as we passed him on the trail. Boomer just wagged his tail.

Monday, December 28, 2020

Then, Again

One of the more humorous scenes in WW84 involves a character who suddenly finds himself 66 years in the future. To him, 1984 is an amazing place, full of wonders including pop tarts and parachute pants. There are also many confusing things as well, such as the stationary bike in the place where he's staying. "I couldn't figure out how to get it going," he reports sheepishly.

I thought of that scene tonight on my walk through the neighborhood. After winding through a residential section admiring the holiday lights twinkling in the spring-like evening air, I headed down to the shops and restaurants at the bottom of the hill. There I passed a gym with a half dozen power spinners out on the pavement. The dance pop hit "Believe" by Cher blasted through the speakers as a single sweaty rider pumped the pedals in gym shorts, muscle tank and tube socks. 

A time traveler from 1984 probably wouldn't have too many questions about that.

Sunday, December 27, 2020

Relative Heat

I never bothered to put my coat on when I took the dogs out and then packed the car this morning-- it's amazing how balmy 33 degrees feels after spending a few hours in 22 yesterday!

Saturday, December 26, 2020

Upstairs Downstairs

Upstairs it snowed all day. Bands of lake-effect squalls drifted slowly through, fat flakes reducing everything to simple, white shapes. Mid-afternoon we bundled up and went out to clean off the car and move it closer to the house so the plow service could clear the driveway when the storm had passed. The snow was fluffy and light, and the air was so cold that every crystalline capped column was starkly etched in each flocculent scoop of the shovel. In short order our work was done and we ready to venture forth on a snowy walk with the dogs.

Downstairs, the heat was working overtime; the year was 1984 and Wonder Woman flew in her invisible plane through fourth of July fireworks. I propped up my feet and reached into the bag of cheese corn on my lap, squinting to make out every familiar location in the movie that was filmed just a few miles from our house. WW1984 was slated to be released last summer, but COVID first pushed the premier back and then changed it to streaming. Like so many summer movies, it was as cheesy as the popcorn, and so it seemed a little out of place this time of year. Even so, it had been a minute since I'd seen anything even resembling a blockbuster, and so I forgave it for its lack of subtlety.

Friday, December 25, 2020

Christ-mehs

As promised, the snow starting falling at just about 10 last night. The tradition here is to open gifts on Christmas Eve, so everyone slept in a little, and we woke to a classic white Christmas with flocked trees and a soft, perfect blanket on the ground. The morning was spent puttering with our presents: plugging them in and trying them on, mostly, but not playing with them. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I confess to being a bit out of sorts, for there was not a single toy or game unwrapped this year. Which is perhaps just as well, because there is no sister, brother, nephews, or niece here to play them with, either. This holiday is lovely, but it doesn't feel completely like mine. I thought I would be fine, and I am, but I'm also not.

Things went a little off the rails this morning when breakfast was delayed, and my usual even disposition was a little ragged with hunger by the time the quiche made it to the table at noon. I perked up a bit with a facetime call to my brother and sister and aunt, and the prospect of cooking my rib roast the Alton Brown way also invigorated my day. 

Brown call for putting the well-seasoned roast into a cold oven and setting it to 250 for three hours until the internal temperature reaches 118. Then it's rest the roast and blast the oven to 450 for the Yorkshire pudding, and then sear the rested roast in that hot oven for about 10 minutes before carving. And it all would have been great, except I was following video directions which didn't mention that his roast was 8-10 pounds while mine was barely 5. 

When I checked the roast just a couple of hours in, the faulty meat thermometer read 160 and I swore a blue streak to think I ruined a 70 dollar roast. But snatching it from the oven just then to rest while I spun around the kitchen like a dervish for the next 45 minutes making gravy, Yorkshire pudding, roasted brussels sprouts, mashed sweet and white potatoes, and salmon for the non-meat eaters turned out to be perfect timing and the roast was a lovely rare, the slabs of juicy prime rib rivaling any steak house you like. 

Even so, it was sheer luck, I know, because it's not even my job to cook the roast on Christmas Day. I do the gravy.

Thursday, December 24, 2020

A Star, a Star Dancing in the Night

I was lying on the bed reading when my watch reminded me to stand up. Despite the temptation of holiday nestling, yesterday I made both my exercise and activity goal, but not my 12 hours of standing, which is ironic, because I always get that goal. So, with a cold rain falling, and exercise and activity feeling out of reach, I jumped right up and started waving my arms. Destiny Child's version of Do You Hear What I Hear? was playing in the background, and my flailing morphed into a kind of Christmas jig as I boogied to the contemporary arrangement of that old classic. Ding! One hour of standing achieved, and 2 minutes of exercise, too. Just nine more hours and 28 minutes to go-- all those cookies are not going to work off themselves.

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Whether the Weather

There's a big storm brewing up here. Driving rain and frigid winds are headed our way tonight and tomorrow. It's not the kind of weather you hope for this time of year, or expect, either, especially in Buffalo, NY. I guess we can chalk it up to another shitty thing about 2020. Except... on the other side of the front are arctic temperatures and lake effect snow. The prediction is that the rain will turn white just in time for Christmas morning, and 8-12 inches of snow will blanket the frozen mud. 

Is that a metaphor for 2021?

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

Christmas Finery

There was a pretty gift bag on our front porch yesterday before we left. Inside, beneath the brightly colored tissue paper, was a bandana for Lucy. Buffalo plaid on one side and little candy canes on the other made it the perfect holiday accessory, and tucked in the bag next to it were two little drawstring pouches. When we opened them we found a couple of masks sewn to match Lucy's bandana. The collection was handmade by our neighbor, and her thoughtfulness made us smile. Even so, I couldn't help sighing as I tried my mask on. "It's so nice," I said to Heidi, "but this might be the saddest Christmas gift I ever got." 

Monday, December 21, 2020

We're Here Tonight

How hard it was this morning to pack up and leave not only our decorated Christmas tree, but our two cats, and hit the road for the 7 hour trip to Buffalo! Cautionary advice from health experts and interstate travel restrictions made leaving home even harder, and Heidi's cranky parents and their reflexive negativity did not feel all that beckoning.

Still, they are the only parents we have between the two of us, and as we all grow older? Time, especially at the holidays, seems more precious for sure. It was their request that we gather despite the public health warnings, and in the end, despite our reservations, we agreed. And so, after a road trip that has grown as comfortable as a warm pair of mittens over the years-- around the beltway, up through rolling farmland, into the snowy mountains, past thousands of twinkling lights, and down to the great lake-- here we are together, just as we have been for the last 21 Christmases. 

And that's enough.

Sunday, December 20, 2020

Two and Half Hallmarks

 That's how long it took to decorate the tree this morning. Well, okay it was really only one and three quarters, but once you start watching? You have to know whose charm bracelet it is and how long it will take Holly and Greg to discover they are meant for each other.

Right?

And I must say that there is something quite soothing about knowing that no matter how bleak it seems, everything will turn out great in the end. 

And everyone will have a Merry Christmas.

Saturday, December 19, 2020

Bitter Sweets

Since this will be a Christmas like no other has been, I find myself more willing to try new things in the sweets and cookie department this season. Last week I made some peppermint cookie cups and bite-sized Atlantic Beach pies and this morning I made cherry-almond kringles-- a version of the Danish treat using my own sourdough pastry, none of which have been a tradition in our family. I'm also considering skipping the rugelach, or maybe switching up the filling to something different this year, and a recipe I came across for cranberry crackle pie looks kind of tempting, too. 

This post to the contrary, I'm not a big dessert eater, so the peppermint cups were a half recipe, and we gave most of the kringles away to our neighbors. All told, there are a lot fewer sweets this year, which makes sense, since there will be fewer folks to share them with. And who knows? Maybe next year? Cranberry crackle pie will become a new tradition.

Friday, December 18, 2020

Big Sibling is Watching You

Another day, another sibling-related interaction. Since we have block schedule, I shared the happy news that having a bossy big sister can be ever so beneficial with the rest of my classes today. The older sisters in the group embraced the news, but not surprisingly, there were skeptics, too. 

One student unmuted and said that his experience did not match the research.

"But you said you have a big brother," I answered. "That doesn't count."

"You don't know the whole story," he said. "My brother? Is transgender! So I know what I'm talking about."

"Uhh, you're right," I replied. "I did not know that." I was quiet for a moment. "I don't think the research study corrected for that factor, though. But maybe they should."

Thursday, December 17, 2020

Birth Order

Sometimes there seems to be a confluence of events-- some call it coincidence, but I always wonder just a little if perhaps the Universe is sending us a message. 

Yesterday I wrote about the study that FINALLY proved the benefits of having a bossy big sister, and as fate would have it, my students currently are reading a story where one of the central themes is tied to the connection between an older and younger brother. So today, for the Chat Snap, I asked the kids where they fell in the family: oldest, middle, youngest, or only child. 

I knew that some answers would be complicated, and they were. One girl posted that she was both, the youngest in her mother's family and the oldest in her dad's. 

"Which do you like better?" I asked with genuine curiosity. 

"Being the oldest," she answered without hesitation. 

But then there was the guy who posted that he was the youngest. "That's right," I said. "I taught your brother, Jeffrey, who's in high school now, and I know you have a brother in 8th grade who wasn't in my class. Isn't his name Ethan?"

"No!" the student immediately corrected me. "His name is Buffoon."

His unmistakable vexation made me laugh. "Well at school? I think we call him Ethan."

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Bossy Has its Benefits

As part of the back-and-forth-repartee-style toast my brother and I made at my sister's wedding rehearsal dinner, it came out that when we were kids I, as the oldest sibling, treated the two of them as my minions. My brother fully confessed to be a willing sidekick to all my wacky plans, and I defended myself, assuring everyone that I was nothing if not a benevolent dictator. 

But isn't that what the oldest child is supposed to do? When I went to school and learned to read, I thought it was soooo cool, that I came home and taught my brother how to do it, too. The same was so for riding a two-wheeler. I learned, and then both my brother and sister learned shortly after. Why would starting a singing group, trying to sell mud door to door, or taking the dog out for a walk when we were not supposed to be any different? Sure, some of my schemes were more successful than others, but at that age? They all came from the same place, and it always started with I have a great idea...

In our family, growing up in the 1960s and early 70s, my mom put me in charge of those two, for short periods of time, from the time I was 5 or 6. "Go outside and play!" was a common direction in almost every family then. She told me to keep an eye on them, and I did, even when they insisted, "You are  not my boss!"

So you can imagine how justified I felt this morning when I heard a piece on NPR about a recent study that "suggests kids in poor countries benefit hugely from having older sisters — who are more likely than brothers or even mothers — to engage in stimulating play." That's right! There were measurable benefits for all those kids whose bossy big sisters forced them to play school and other games that engaged their brains and their imaginations. 

Just as I did 50 years ago, these girls spend "as much as half of their free time looking after younger children." And their siblings? Perform better on tests of vocabulary and fine motor skills than their peers without an older sister, ahem, orchestrating their days. 

You're welcome, guys!

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

Where's Liz?

I had lunch, virtually of course, with a friend and colleague today. She is a math teacher on my team, and we eat together almost every day when school is held in the building. She is also an accomplished singer, and since COVID safety orders have been in effect, she has been performing with the Stay at Home Choir

The members of the SHC are singers from around the world, and for each project they meet with internationally acclaimed conductors and composers to prepare and rehearse, and then each singer records and submits their part. Sound and video engineers blend the recordings into a final performance, and the amazing results are released into the world via YouTube and other video sites.

Today happened to be the premier of their performance of Beethoven's Ode to Joy, with lyrics by US Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith and accompanied by the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Marin Alsop. Lucky for me? The premier was during our lunch, and so we watched it together. 

The performance was stirring and beautiful, but I confess that I was distracted by looking for my friend in the hundreds of faces, each in its own little tile. And maybe all this online communication is changing my brain, because I was sure, absolutely sure! I saw her at least three times. 

Later this afternoon, when I went back to listen again, I couldn't help myself from pausing the video to scan the faces, and sure enough-- there she was. For the last 9 months, all of seen of her is a face on a screen, and so I guess it makes sense that I could pick that familiar image out, even among all those other faces. 

Plus, it was kinda like Where's Waldo? but more fun and with wonderful music.



Monday, December 14, 2020

The Elements

When the days grow shorter and colder, it is so easy to burrow in, snuggle up, and hunker down. Working from home? There is very little reason to leave the comfort of my warm house, and quickly those instincts start to become habit. Fortunately, we have to get Lucy from her dog walker every afternoon, and at 3 miles round trip, walking over there and back offers a modicum of activity. 

Even so, when temperatures hit the low 60s over the weekend and sunny, springlike days beckoned me out of my lair, without necessity, I resisted and stayed in baking cookies and decorating my tree. Often the contrarian, this morning I woke with conviction to exercise outside, and the cold driving rain would not dissuade me. 

In need of a shower anyway, I dressed in some tights and a pullover and, leaving my phone behind so it would not get drenched, I shoved a cap on my head and ventured out. We were under a flood watch at the time, and at first I tried to avoid the wide puddles and gushing gutters, but as I got going, it was kind of exhilarating to plunge my feet into icy water even as I was sweating beneath my dripping clothes. 

And half an hour later when I returned home, breathless and sodden, I did not feel like curling up or nestling in. I did eat a cookie, though!

Sunday, December 13, 2020

No More Gnomes

When we were shopping for new furniture a year or so ago, Heidi told me in no uncertain terms that we could not buy a white leather couch, no matter how much we liked it in the showroom. "Babe!" she said. "White couches are for old ladies. That's not us."

I thought of that conversation today when we purchased a stuffed winter gnome to join the two I inherited from my mother. Those holiday fellows were just a little too appealing to me to leave to the consignment, and when we opened their box with my mom's handwriting on it a couple of weeks ago, I knew the perfect place for them. Currently, they survey the living room from atop the bookshelf. The new gnome in his gray flannel and buffalo checks is a perfect compatriot for them; he fills the gap up there we never knew we had, and three is a pleasing arrangement. 

While shopping, I was appalled to see Valentine's Day decor liberally included in the already clearance-priced Christmasware, but Heidi was transfixed by the pink Valentine gnome and his leftover autumn gnome brother. "We should get a gnome for every season!" she said, a proposal I immediately vetoed.

"You sound like an old lady!" I told her. 

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but I don't even care!"

"You must see our gnome collection!" I added in a warbly fake elder voice. "It's adorable."

She shrugged again. "It would be!"

Saturday, December 12, 2020

In Sight

I misplaced my reading glasses earlier in the week, which is strange, because my world is so very small-- I haven't been anywhere recently besides over to the dog walker to pick up Lucy each evening. Even so, they were gone, disappeared, nowhere to be found in this little condo despite an exhaustive search of the few possibilities. 

Oh, I muddled through, most people of my age have learned to strew their cheaters about, placing a pair of spectacles within easy reach of any location where they may be required. So, yeah, I have extra reading glasses in the kitchen, by my favorite seats in the living room, in the bedside table, and, of course, in the bathrooms. Even so, I missed my Peepers, the ones I purchased because Oprah recommended them, and whose heavy blue frames provided just the right balance of gravitas and levity to my on-camera teaching persona.

So you can imagine how happy I was to hear Heidi call down to me this morning: "I found your glasses!"

"Where were they?" I asked joyfully.

"In the washing machine," she reported.

Now, there's a place I don't usually keep reading glasses, but? Maybe?

Friday, December 11, 2020

Oh Snap

MS Teams recently rolled out an update that allows the meeting organizer, aka the teacher, to open breakout rooms and automatically send participants to work there. It's kind of a nifty feature, you can quickly organize and supervise group work, almost like being in a classroom. There is also a general broadcast that posts messages to all the chats, which is also very handy. 

Of course, I immediately integrated the new feature into my lesson-- I feel certain that many kids really miss the self-direction and interaction that cooperative work offers. Popping in and out of the breakout groups validated my sense, most groups quickly overcame their initial shyness and got to work on the task at hand. 

Perhaps the coolest thing about the breakout room, though, is the ability to close all the rooms with a single tap, bringing your participants right back to the main meeting in an instant. Today as all the little glowing circles rematerialized on my screen, there was almost a collective gasp as several kids unmuted at once. "Wow!" one student said. "That was so weird! I felt like I actually went some place else!"

"I know! Cool right?" I answered.

"It was like the Avengers," another student added. "You have the Thanos snap!" 

"But I brought you back!" I said. "I am Iron Teacher!"

Thursday, December 10, 2020

Dynamic Group

My homeroom was very engaged in the library scavenger hunt activity that was scheduled for today. Once I made sure they had the right app downloaded and opened, I shared my screen and we used the chat for them to post the answers they found to the 7 questions so I could type them into the challenge.

We had to use the chat because so many were excitedly yelling answers that I couldn't hear them. When we had successfully unlocked the final padlock and our finish time was displayed, I entered it into a google form to see how we stacked up to the other homeroom groups. "I did it!" I reported as I clicked submit.

"You didn't do anything!" one student said indignantly. "You just typed! We did all the work!"

"I know," I agreed, "I meant I submitted the form."

"Ohhh," he said without apology.

"What do we win if we got the best time?" asked another student.

"Um, bragging rights?" I answered. "They'll say our homeroom on the announcements."

"That's your name!" said the first kid.

I shrugged. "The gift of knowledge, then? A skill you need to be a good student?" I suggested, but they were jokingly grumbling and playing up their disgruntlement.

"Well," I finally said, "how about the gift of lunch 5 minutes early?"

With a cheer, their circles blinked out one by one, and I chuckled as I ended the call. 


Wednesday, December 9, 2020

*

Tonight, with my lessons planned for the next 2 days, I am within just a couple of plans of winter break, which begins at the end of classes a week from Friday. As much as I am looking forward to rest and relaxation and time away from the screens that comprise my professional life right now, I wonder what this holiday will be like. 

All my life I have enjoyed Christmas with the family I was born to; in fact, over the years I have traveled many miles, even on Christmas Day, to do so. When I was in high school, I flew home to Saudi Arabia from Switzerland, in college it was an even longer trip from Hamilton, NY. In recent years, I have driven or flown from Buffalo, NY to Washington or Atlanta. But every hour in the air or on the road has been worth the comfort and joy of the company of my parents, while they were alive, and my brother and sister. We've never missed Christmas together.

But this year?

Nope.

It makes me so sad, but we have promised each other that we will gather again as soon as it is safe, and in fact we are even holding our gift exchange until then. So, Christmas will come, and then perhaps? It will come again.

After all, 58 years is a good streak! And I plan to continue it, with an asterisk by 2020, of course.

Tuesday, December 8, 2020

Getting Warmer

For the attendance chat snap today I asked my students if they would rather be too hot or too cold. With only about 60% reporting (block scheduling!) the results are 32 cold to 15 hot. It was not what I would have predicted; in the past, most of my students have been heat seekers. "Maybe since it's just the beginning of winter, people are feeling kindly about the cold?" I suggested to my co-teacher. "If we ask again in March, will they be wishing for warmer days?"

But on this cold night, we are having a warm and homey dish of lentils, rice, and smoked sausage along with some homemade sourdough bread and a salad for dinner tonight. It's the salad that takes a star turn here, but mostly because of a supporting member. The tomato wedges that accompany the arugula, watermelon radish and olives are among the last from our garden. That's right! On December 8, we still have a couple quarts of homegrown tomatoes.

And just the other night on a FaceTime call with my brother and sister, Bill filled us in on a few of the many wonders he and Emily have observed in their Covid quest to walk every single street of our fair county. Among the unexpected charms, they have also lately seen daffodils, forsythia blooming, and cherry blossoms. "It's disturbing," my brother shook his head. "It's hard to shake the feeling that something is very wrong with the planet."

Monday, December 7, 2020

Reformative Assessment

What do you do when the average grade on the quiz you gave was below 60?

Review and reteach, baby!

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Joy to the Door

 I made a to do list today that included throwing or giving away at least one thing a day for the foreseeable future. Looking around from where I sat, I saw a pile of about a half dozen unread magazines, and decided to start with them. But first? I had to at least flip through each one, right? I started by paging through the two latest copies of The New Yorker, making sure to read all the cartoons, note any books, movies, or TV shows I should check out, and skim the articles of interest. Thirty minutes later, after reading a personal essay about mortality and Wheel of Fortune and an article about the human tragedy of poverty (in Alabama, specifically), I was almost ready to give up the whole magazine thing. 

I moved forward to a couple of alumni mags, one from college and another from high school, and those fortified me to continue on to Entertainment Weekly (which is now published monthly), and finish up with Martha Stewart Living. It was there that I found some recipes and a couple of holiday craft ideas, one of which I was determined to execute today

And so I did-- after a quick stop at the craft store, a bit of foraging through the evergreens growing in the neighborhood, and repurposing an LED candle and some ribbon I already had, my winter door decoration was complete!

Martha's:










Mine:

Saturday, December 5, 2020

So Reclined

I had every intention of leaving my house early today-- working out, running errands, getting a Christmas Tree. 

But... I walk every day, and so maybe more vigorous exercise can wait another day or two. Plus, we're set as far as staples go, and the tree? Well, okay, I really do want my tree up, but the weather was cold and gray, and there were other holiday errands to do that only involved reclining in my Stressless chair with my lap top. 

Oh, somewhere around 3 PM I cleaned off the deck to prepare for the lights we'll string out there, and we decluttered a bit and scooted the living room furniture to make room for the tree when we get it (tomorrow!). Then around 5 PM we bundled up and headed out into the early darkness for that daily walk, which was magical! So many lights and decorations, 2020 has got at least that going for it. And back home, I made soup for dinner and returned to my chair to rest up for the productivity that is sure to surface

tomorrow.

Friday, December 4, 2020

Wish You Were Here

I enjoyed the bonus pix some kids posted to the first Chat Snap of the week so much that I made the second Chat Snap a photo by itself. 

Take a picture of something red or green at your house and post it, I asked, and the kids delivered, if not always in the way I expected. In addition to an elf on the shelf, holiday lights, markers, pencils, notebooks, blankets, and hoodies, they also posted images of green mouthwash, red deodorant, video game controllers, lighted keyboards, computer cables, paint, donuts with sprinkles, parakeets, solo cups, and grass outside the window. 

It was an interesting glimpse, literally, into each student's world, and I loved it. 

I was not the only fan, either. "This is my favorite chat snap yet!" posted one kid today. (I appreciated her growth mindset demonstrated by the use of the word 'yet'! She's right: there will be other great snaps!)

"Same!" replied another, and the likes kept rolling in. 

I was happy, but hardly surprised. Clearly we all appreciate connection and community where ever we can find it these days. I'm just glad we found it in English class.


Thursday, December 3, 2020

One Day at a Time

How oddly the time passes lately! 

It's hard to believe that one week ago we were celebrating Thanksgiving, that tomorrow is the end of another school week, and that in two weeks and a day we will be on Winter Break. In other measures, it has been 3,996 days since I started this blog, 2,172 days since the first post on our family's selfie blog (Hi, Mom!), and 2,042 days since I started logging my weight and meals every day. This year's 100 Day Writing Challenge started 277 days ago, and my daily sit ups are going strong, but the mediation has fallen off. (I need to get back to that! Just 10 minutes, Tracey! You can do it!) I'll repeat my brother's wisdom that the days pass slowly but the time flies by.

Today I read that, upon his inauguration, President-elect Biden will ask the public to commit to 100 days of mask wearing. That would be from January 20 to April 30, 2021. Maybe it seems easy because I already wear a mask whenever I go into a public place, but still?

You can do it America!

Wednesday, December 2, 2020

Here Comes the Surge

After Thanksgiving Break it had been a while since I had "seen" my students, and so I set aside a longer period of time than usual to converse and connect with them at the beginning of class. 

"I'm warning you," I said, "I missed you guys last week, and so I'm going to ask everybody a follow up question to your Chat Snap today. I just want to hear your voices!"

I guess they wanted to use their voices, too. The question of the day was simply What was the highlight of your break? and the answers were predictable: food, family, and video games. But with a little prompting? Oh my! Some of the kids talked more than they have for the entire year put together, and in addition to pies and turkeys and Christmas trees, there were also pictures of kittens and parakeets and pugs in sweaters, and tales of family game nights and holiday movie marathons.

Unfortunately, there were also several reports of Black Friday shopping, huge family gatherings, and sleepovers with friends. I'm sure everybody thought they were being as safe as necessary. My own family ignored the CDC warnings not to travel. Of course we took precautions, but we also took our chances. I'm glad we did, and that makes it hard to begrudge others the same comfort and joy.

Even so.

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

I Think Not

I laughed today when I read that President Trump's longest serving cabinet official is... Secretary DeVos of education infamy. Holding her office in all the hurly burly of that administration may have been the closest she'll ever come to lasting a few years in a classroom full of kids, never mind actually doing them some good. 

The joke seemed a little too good to be true, and so I did a little research on my own. DeVos is actually only the second longest serving cabinet member of this administration. Six out of fifteen secretaries made it all the way through, their seniority determined only by Senate confirmation, and guess who was actually confirmed first? Elaine Chao, Secretary of Transportation, who also happens to be Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell's wife.

Coincidence? 

Monday, November 30, 2020

Season of Light

Just as expected, with Thanksgiving 2020 in the books, Christmas lights have started twinkling everywhere. Last night on a walk through the neighborhood we saw a dad and his perhaps three-year-old daughter strolling hand in hand admiring the decorations. "I'm just so excited!" the little girl cried, dropping her dad's hand and dashing forward. "Look! There's some more lights!"

I have to admit I understood the feeling. There is something quite thrilling about colorful lights, especially as the days grow shorter. Perhaps it is the promise of Christmas and all that holiday brings, but it could also be a little more primordial: in darkness we are drawn to the light. Tonight as we walked home from picking up Lucy, the full moon rising added even more spectacle to the array of shining snowflakes, glowing candy canes, brilliant icicles, bright trees, and even Yoda in a Santa hat. Undeniably, my step lightened and my mood lifted, and the hours spent in front of the computer dropped away.

Concerned, I turned to Heidi. "What are we all going to do in January?"

Sunday, November 29, 2020

The Good Genes

Richard and Annabelle had an argument while we were at the beach last week. They're teenagers and siblings, so it was bound to happen. "You got all the bad genes in the family!" Richard spat at his sister in the heat of the disagreement. 

I thought about his observation this evening when I called my aunt to catch up and wish her a belated Happy Thanksgiving. "I'm really sorry I'm calling so late in the weekend," I said. "I feel bad."

"Don't ever feel bad about that," she told me. "I am the world's worst caller! I have no place to complain."

"Well, I am the world's second worst caller, then!" I replied. "But it's nice to know that I come by it honestly."

As our conversation drew to a close I said, "Well, I'm going to let you go. I know it's your dinner time."

"That's right," she agreed. "We're having turkey noodle soup tonight."

"Does it have tomatoes in it?" I asked, because that's how my mom always made the soup after Thanksgiving.

"Oh, yes!" she answered. "It has to have the tomatoes!"

"Wait until I tell Courtney," I laughed, mentioning my sister. "She HATES the tomatoes in the turkey soup!"

"Where did we get her?" my aunt asked.

"I know," I said, "and she's a pretty good phone caller, too."

Saturday, November 28, 2020

A Glass Darkly

"It's a shame we didn't do this when Mom was still around to enjoy it," my sister said to me the other day at the beach. She was rolling the pastry for our pumpkin pie. 

I swiveled the tall stool on the other side of the counter around from my ocean view to face her. "I was just thinking of Mom, too," I said.

"Well, she's never far from thought," my sister answered, and she was right. 

I had been thinking all week of when this very same group had gathered at the beach eleven years ago for my mom's 70th. It was June and the summer was young, and so it seemed we all were. My mom was a vigorous new septuagenarian, my older nephews were in their teens, my sister's kids were 18 months and nearly 4, and this blog was just a few months into its run. Despite the years in between, my impressions then reflect our experiences now.

Seaside 

This evening our dog chased a ball through the surf, leaving crescents of ragged claw-shaped prints across a field of tiny air bubbles in the flat, wet sand. Tonight the stars fill the sky in a way that is impossible in the light-washed nights of the city where I live. What will tomorrow be like? 

Seaside 2: What We Take with Us: 

I had a beach cruiser when I lived at the beach. What a ride! It was a cool black and pink one-speed Schwinn with high, padded handle bars, a wide, soft seat, nobby tires for some traction in the sand, and flat pedals so you could ride barefoot down the boardwalk. Gosh, I loved that bike. 
 
When we moved north, I brought my beach cruiser with me, but it was totally unsuited for the roads in my new town; they were way too hilly. I had been warned that I wouldn't get a lot of use out of it in the place that I was moving, but I couldn't let it go. Eventually, I bought another bike, and the cruiser decayed away in a leaky outdoor shed. The chain rusted; the tires went flat; the cushy handlebars cracked, and squirrels chewed through the seat cover and made off with the padding for their nests. I'm embarrassed to admit that eventually it ended up in the trash on another moving day, but I was glad when someone took it before the garbage truck came. 
 
It turned out to be another tragic lesson on the difference between what we need and what we want-- my beach cruiser totally deserved better. 

 Seaside 3: I Love an Ocean 

Today my nephew and I were sitting in the surf. He's almost four and has a healthy respect for the sea; in fact, he's terrified of it, so we were way up at the waterline where the waves could just reach us. I don't usually sit at all at the beach, and I'm not one to sunbathe or nap, either. I like to swim, or beach comb, or play frisbee or catch, or build things in the sand, but sitting still, not so much. Still, there we were, the outgoing tide carving little gullies beneath our heels and butts, and looking around, I noticed that we were surrounded by hundreds of tiny little clams about the size of a baby's fingernail. They were translucent shades of white, orange or blue with the finest of stripes and subtle variations in color. When the water left them temporarily high and dry, they would each extend a teeny, nearly transparent, fleshy foot to flip themselves vertical and then disappear beneath the sand in a blink. Enchanted, I showed my nephew, and we watched them together for a while. I picked a couple up and put them in some sand in his hand, and they buried themselves there. "Isn't that cool?" I asked him. 
 
He nodded. "I love an ocean," he sighed. 

Seaside 7: Sunset Sunrise 

On the east coast, the sun does not set over the ocean. There are lovely sunrises for those who get up early enough, but for a sunset over water, you have to be on a mighty big lake or bay. Tonight, as the sunset washed the sky behind a bunch of houses and trees to our west a faded pink, we bid the first farewell of our vacation. My mom has a 6 AM flight in the morning, and so she left to stay with some friends who live closer to the airport. After yet another perfect day at the beach, some late afternoon Wii Karaoke, and a great dinner of crab cakes, homemade slaw, and salads (it pays to have high-end leftovers), there were tears-- as there always are when our family parts-- and the gray light of the dusky evening seemed to reinforce the undeniable fact that all that was left of our vacation was the packing up and getting out of the rental place by 10 AM.

Friday, November 27, 2020

Adapt or...

It's a cliche to say that the beach is relaxing, and yet, being here for Thanksgiving seemed to give permission to relax some of the Thanksgiving traditions we have had for so long. 

For one thing, we started making and eating our pies and desserts early in the week to avoid that feeling of must eat, even after one of the heaviest meals of the year. The menu for our holiday feast was streamlined, a few favorites left out or simplified in the interest of saving time and being able to enjoy the amazing weather-- 70+ degrees in November! The parade was no longer de rigueur viewing-- why watch the rain in Herald Square when the sun was shining on the ocean right outside our door? And Black Friday? Well, I almost got away without spending a cent, but the seafood market was right there as my sister and I were pedaling our beach cruisers, and shrimp tacos instead of pasta night seemed like another wise modification. 

And who knows? This is our second Thanksgiving at the beach. That in itself may be a new tradition.

Thursday, November 26, 2020

Thanksgivingtide

We passed what must have been a family celebrating Thanksgiving on the beach this morning. About 18 or 20 folks, of at least three generations, some dressed up, some playing in the sand, many wearing masks, and all standing a responsible distance apart, smiled and chatted in a warm November sun. A light breeze blew off the tumbling sea, the surf still up from the storm that passed through last night. There was no turkey or dressing or cranberry sauce, but their gratitude at safely gathering in these treacherous times, and in such a beautiful place, clearly matched my own.

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Oysters and Pea Crabs

It started with a conversation about dinner. "Should I get some oysters for tonight?" Emily asked. From there we discussed whether they should be raw or Rockafellered. A quick call to the seafood market revealed that oysters were only available by the pint or in the shell, and for our purposes the jar would not work. 

"Let's get an oyster knife and learn how to shuck them!" I suggested. "Wouldn't that be a fun family vacation project?" 

So Emily got the oysters, and I went to ACE Hardware to get the knife and a pair of gloves. "Of course the knife will go right through these," the guy at the store shook his head as he pointed out the gloves. "They'll give you a better grip, but it's a dangerous, dirty business to open oysters. Better to go to a raw bar."

I thanked him for his help and ignored his advice. Upon arriving home I showed the new gear to Victor. "Are you up for learning to shuck oysters?" I asked, and before too long he was doing some research on YouTube. Dinner time found the two of us in the kitchen poking and prying and twisting and popping and scraping. It wasn't long before we got the hang of it, and pretty soon we had a plate of six oysters on the half shell.

"This one has a little crab in it!" Victor said as he popped open the next one. Sure enough, a tiny round crab the size of his thumbnail feebly waved its eight legs. Treat was working on his computer at the table, and he quickly searched the creature as Victor and Emily took pictures. 

It turns out that it was a pea crab, which is a parasite that invades the oyster when they are both larva and attaches itself to the gills, eating part of the oyster's food as it filters through. The crab does not harm the oyster. "Will it harm us?" we wondered.

"You can eat them, and, listen to this," Treat read, "they were said to be one of George Washington's favorites.

We set the little crab aside and continued shucking oysters. Two more of them had crabs in them, and the three tiny crustaceans wiggled weakly as we debated what to do with them. It seemed cruel to throw them away, and even though the ocean was just steps from our door, they couldn't survive alone in the sea; it was most likely they would become some other animal's meal. I sat down for a moment and pulled out my phone to read up on these pea crabs. According to my research, they were actually a sign that the oysters were fresh and healthy. Not only edible, they were reportedly delicious either raw or fried.

With that, I got a little skillet and tossed some butter in it. When it was sizzling, I apologized to the little crabs and tossed them in. They turned from gray to a delicate pink, sort of like shrimp. A sprinkle of salt a and a squeeze of lemon later, I plated them in the center of a small fiesta ware plate and showed them to Victor, Treat, and Emily. 

Treat tasted one first. "It's really good!" he said.

Victor had the next. "It is," he agreed.

Emily let me have the last one. The tiny bite was crispy and crabby, a little like soft shell crab, and actually pretty delicious. "I can see why George Washington liked these!" I said.

Later, as I rinsed the gloves and washed the oyster knife, I thought of the guy at the hardware store and shook my head. No way any raw bar could have been better.

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Teach from the Beach

Ever since we have started working from home we have been tempted to relocate temporarily and carry out our virtual duties from somewhere fun and beautiful. Today I finally got to try that model out. 

On the day before Thanksgiving Break, no teacher plans a serious lesson, and with the added complication of only teaching one of our two block days, my plan was to log on, take attendance, and direct the students to a light activity, leave the call, and enjoy the ocean view from my window. 

It didn't exactly go that way... the beach house where are staying is lacking robust wifi; so much so, that the only place I had a reliable signal was next to the router. So I scooted a tall kitchen stool over to the nearest chair in the living room, plunked my lap top onto the seat and spun it around to face me. At 7:45 in the morning, the sun rising over the ocean created a glare on the screen, so I pulled the blackout curtains, placed my iPad on my knees, held my breath, and joined the call.

And everything went just fine!  Neither the ambient conversation of my non-working family, nor the barking of four dogs impeded my instruction, (although my empathy for the kids who work in such conditions every day increased a hundredfold) and I knew at the end of every class that I?

was still at the beach.

Monday, November 23, 2020

Late Autumn Dip

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how cold would you say it is?" Annabelle asked me as I shivered in the outdoor pool at our beach house this afternoon. When we arrived, it seemed amazing that the pool was still open so late in the season, even here in the Southern Outer Banks of North Carolina. And yet? There it shimmered two stories down, deep blue and inviting, rivaled only by the wide sky and the ocean just beyond. And today was the day, nearly 70 and very sunny, that I decided to take the plunge, literally. To be fair, I was egged on by Annabelle, and the two of us stood first ankle deep in the frigid water and then up to our knees. I might have changed my mind and said no, but I did not. Punching the swimming workout on my watch, I listened to it counting down and 3-2-1 dove in. The cold water took my breath away, and even though I could easily stand, I lifted my feet and began treading water to stay warm. 

"An 8!" I answered. "Are you coming in?"

Sunday, November 22, 2020

EUI

I glanced at my watch before taking it off for the night and noticed that I only needed 35 calories to close my activity ring. "I'll be back!" I told Heidi and headed for the spare room and the Bosu ball. I had enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine, but it seemed like a great idea to do a little vigorous step activity to meet my goal. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if...

Well, maybe I wouldn't have gotten away with it, because about 2 minutes in, I stepped down from the bouncy Bosu and felt my ankle roll. I heard it crackle, and the next thing I knew I was on the floor. Miraculously, it was a soft landing, and although my ankle was sore, I could stand. A couple of ibuprofen and a compression brace later, I was in pajamas and off to sleep, 10 calories shy of my daily goal but feeling fortunate and a little wiser for the reminder that at my age? I need to be careful! 

Saturday, November 21, 2020

Tales from the Chat 2

Because of the way block scheduling works at our school, I teach four of my five sections alternating two and two every other day, but there is one class I see every day for half a block. Splitting the lesson and activities in a way that makes sense adds an extra layer of planning, but so far it hasn't been too bad. I do have to give that group two additional chat snaps every week, though, and that has led to some interesting conversations. 

For example, yesterday, since we were working on character traits, I asked them if they would consider themselves extroverts or introverts. I happen to have an assistant working with me in that class, and she and I have known each other for at least 20 years. She is an extrovert, and I am an introvert, something we have joked about a few times over the years. Before we read the answers, I asked the students to guess what we were. They knew Ms. P was an extrovert right away. "She's so smiley and friendly," one student said, "you can just tell!"

"What about me?" I asked. 

"You're definitely an extra!" one kid said. "You do everything in this class, and you are definitely always talking!"

"That's funny!" I said, "because that's just my teaching personality. Right Ms. P?"

"Oh yes!" she told them. "Ms. S is very quiet!"

Maybe because they've never met me in person, they were unconvinced. 

"Let's try to guess what the students are," I suggested to Ms. P. and we went down the list, making our predictions. Believe it or not, we got every single one right. I'd have to say we aced that formative assessment.

Sometimes it seems hard to believe that we are really reaching the kids we are teaching from a distance; getting to know them, making connections, and building bonds from so far away seems impossible. But there are small signs everywhere, you just have to check for them.


Friday, November 20, 2020

Tales from the Chat

When did we become such a people of indecision? Lately it seems that every answer the students give me begins with "It depends" or ends with "some where in the middle." It's so wishy washy!

For example, before we started our lesson on organizing an argument essay this week, I asked the kids to reply in the chat whether they thought they were organized or disorganized. A few students were willing to commit quickly and succinctly with one choice or the other, but most of them wanted to split some hairs, equivocating along the lines of what the situation was or how long it would take to become and/or stay organized. 

There were a couple of great answers though. One kid confessed that he was extremely disorganized, but he could always find whatever he needed. Speaking as one with a similar approach, it sounds like he has system, whether he knows it or not. 

Another boy wrote that he used to be disorganized, but that had changed. 

I asked him to unmute and elaborate. 

"Well," he started, "at the beginning of the school year everything was new and confusing." 

I nodded sympathetically. 

"Distance learning was hard," he continued, "and I lost track of some things. But now I'm really organized!"

"Wow! What changed?" I asked, impressed.

"I have some folders," he explained, "and my mom sits right next to me."

Now, she seems like a resolute person.

Thursday, November 19, 2020

A Couple of Shakes

Just when I was feeling kind of low about the limitations of distance learning, a couple of genuine connections with kids grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a shake. 

With block schedule, I teach 2 1/2 classes a day, the same lesson 5 times, but one of those sessions is split over 2 days. I'm really lucky that the first group I have most of the time is very high functioning and pretty small. They are the perfect trial subjects, and I often tweak the plans when their class is over. That's what happened today-- I realized that an opportunity for collaboration would improve the assignment, and so I quickly set up breakout groups for the next class. 

Many of those kids are English language learners, but again, they are very compliant and generally hardworking, and hopping in and out of their small groups as they worked together to complete their assignment was amazing. Not only were they helping each other, but when I was there they were also asking questions and interacting with me; it was a refreshing break from the radio silence that I hear so much of the time. 

In the next class, My trusty teaching assistant was running a bit late from her earlier class, and so I asked for a volunteer to read the chat as I checked the students off for attendance and participation. There was a moment of awkward silence, but then one girl, who is usually pretty shy, unmuted her mic and accepted the job. It was so great to hear a new voice transforming the monologue to more of a conversation, and what was even better? The other kids posted much more quickly. I think we might be on to something there!

And honestly? I'm willing to give almost anything a shake to help these students engage a little bit more with their learning.

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

I Wash My Hands

The latest update for the Apple Watch OS has a hand-washing feature. Any time my watch senses enough back and forth motion of the hands a little chime sounds and a timer counts down to 20 seconds. When all is done, and my hands are clean, a little message of congratulations glows on the tiny screen. It's silly, but after a day spent in front of the computer, when my exercise and move goals seem almost certain to be unattainable, it sure is nice to know that I can wash my hands like nobody's business!

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Goodnight Garden

There's a frost warning tonight, and so when I hung up from my final meeting of the day, I laced up my boots and walked up to the garden this afternoon. The day was sunny, but blustery and kind of cold; dark and light clouds raced across the sun, and it felt like the forecast was right. Two hours and twenty pounds of green tomatoes later, our plot was cleared out. Cages stacked and compost bin full, I hefted that last bag of bounty onto my shoulder, closed the gate for the season, spun the combo on the lock, and headed home.

Monday, November 16, 2020

Say Yes to the Turnips

 What does Thanksgiving look like in 2020?

Not sure, but I did get the rutabagas today!

Sunday, November 15, 2020

The Will and the Way

I woke up stressing about the plants on my deck and the next unit in my English class. 

I usually bring my plants into my classroom for the winter: the wide windowsill and western exposure provide a perfect home for them in the cold, dark months of the year. Our house already feels stuffed to the seams with the addition of two working spaces and everything else we think we need to survive 2020, and I have been wrestling with the plant situation since September. And as an extra complication, our cat eats any non-toxic plant within her reach. Given those restrictions, where could they possibly go?

Fortunately, we have had a splendid fall, but rain tonight and the threat of frost on Tuesday forced my attention on finding the solution today. As it turned out? I simply needed to start carrying the smaller plants inside to find that we do actually have a place for them on the high shelf in the spare room. Once they were squared away, finding space for the larger plants was a bit more challenging, but manageable. I have great hope that all will successfully overwinter, surviving until we can move them outside again. And to be honest, their green is a vibrant addition to our indoor time. 

If I could only figure out how the students can team up virtually to make commercials in January, I might be able to sleep in a little tomorrow.

Saturday, November 14, 2020

The New Necessary

As winter approaches, we usually deposit a pair of gloves or mittens in the pockets of each coat or jacket so that we are never caught without them on cold days. Last evening, as we headed down the street to an outdoor birthday party for an 8-year-old neighbor,  I dug my hands into the pockets of my vest and was pleased to find the gloves I had stuffed in there last year. The weather turned a little nippy after the sun set, and who wants cold fingers at a party? 

It turned out, I didn't need them. There were a few logs crackling in a portable fire pit in the center of the gathering. What I did need, though, I didn't have. Despite keeping social distance of six feet, everyone was wearing a mask. I had a gaiter around my neck, and I pulled it up over my mouth and nose, but it was rather uncomfortable for the length of time we were there. 

It had simply never occurred to me to grab one of the many masks we have in a basket by the door; even after six months of masking, some part of my reptilian brain must still be in denial. 

But when I got home? You can bet I added some masks to the mittens in my jackets.

Friday, November 13, 2020

Another Sorrow

A good friend of my mom's passed away last night. June was 88, but more active than a lot of people 10 or 15 years younger. She was a part of my mom's gym and coffee group, and with their friend Barb, they traveled all over, most notably to Europe, and China, and Vegas, and Florida every February. The three of them had a standing date for the Minnesota State Fair the last week of every August, and until the last week of my mom's life, they emailed each other every single morning to check in and make sure that each of them was safe and sound and ready to see another day. My heart goes out to Barb; how empty her inbox must feel.

June had been feeling a little off and then progressively worse for months, but like what happened to my mom, her doctors brushed it off as one minor thing after another until she reached a crisis and went into the ER three weeks ago. There a CT scan suggested advanced cancer, a diagnosis which was confirmed a short time later. She spent her last days at home, surrounded by family and friends. 

As her daughter wrote this morning, "She had 88+ good years and three bad weeks," and when you put it like that? It's hard to imagine asking for much more. But she will be missed by those of us she leaves behind, one more loss in a terrible year.

Thursday, November 12, 2020

Why I Can Never Have Chickens

"I'm thinking of making something with pumpkin for dinner tonight," I told Heidi this afternoon.

"Great," she said. "I'm sure it will be good if you make it!"

I walked over to the sideboard and looked at the 4 remaining pumpkins from our garden. "Which one should I cook?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" she replied.

"Not really," I shrugged, "but for some reason? I feel a little bad about chopping them into pieces, throwing them in the oven, and eating them!"

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Blah-liday

 It was not a jolly holiday around here today. A muggy, overcast morning gave way to a drenching, tropical afternoon. After working for most of the gray, gray day, I had to get out of the house, so at 4:30 I pulled on some boots and my raincoat, leashed up the dog, and headed out for as brisk a walk as we could manage. Lucy is a sniffer, she never met a patch of grass or invisible trail along the side of a fence that she didn't long to lose her nose in. Such aromatic shenanigans make it challenging to maintain any speed, and so we traded off jogging and meandering, eventually compromising our way down to the local shopping district at the foot of the hill. I was surprised to see a few hardcore restaurant patrons sitting at somewhat soggy tables beneath dripping awnings, but aside from them, the sidewalks were mostly empty. Rounding the bend to the library square I did a double take at the Christmas Tree, all set up and decorated. And although Veteran's Day is mighty early for that kind of cheer, I do confess my spirits rallied just a bit at the sight. I snapped a quick selfie and then off we trotted toward home.

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Small Victories

Today was the day when it finally fit in the curriculum to have the students enroll in the online app for writing skills that our school system subscribes to. It's not super complicated: I log in and create classes, and then the students follow a link to set up their accounts and join my class. 

And yet... 

Over the four years that we have been using this platform, even as I give directions and circulate throughout the classroom, somehow there are always one or two kids who get into the wrong class, or worse can't join at all, and I never know until the first assignment is due. So I was prepared for problems when I added this activity to my plans, and I built in some time to resolve them.

And yet...

This time

every

single

student

joined our class and started the assignment! 

Oh, sure, there were a few kids I had to talk through the process. Click on that big blue button under the pink person in the weird desk. Do you see it? Do you see it?  Now log in with your school Google. 

But at the end of the day, I gave the assistant in my class a virtual high five. "They are all in!" I told her. "That never, ever happens, even in person!"

"I know," she said. "We must be getting good at this stuff!"

Monday, November 9, 2020

Having Written

I have my writing group tonight. When we started 14 years ago, the four of us met every month, almost without fail. Back then, I was fresh from the National Writing Project Summer Institute for teachers where the writer within me had awakened. Having the chance to write every month for an audience was intoxicating and fun, and the food, wine, and company were just as potent. 

Since then, our meetings have become a little less frequent, perhaps six or seven a year, and of course this year, the COVID crisis has curtailed our gathering even more; we met once in February and were all set to meet at the end of March when social distancing and lock downs upended that plan along with so many others. We were able to find time to meet outside in late July, though, and this mild November weather has offered the chance to meet outdoors one more time this year.

Over the years, the food, fun, and fellowship haven't lost a glint of their luster, but writing? Well, that's a different story. Obviously, I write regularly, in a few weeks I'll hit 4,000 posts on this site. But while writing every day does build my fluency, I sometimes wonder what the trade off is, and I often ponder that very question in the days leading up to my writing group. The empty screen illuminates my doubts. Where's the passion? What's the point?

But tonight, after a nice dinner and a glass or two of wine, when I pull out whatever I bring to share with the group, and we all adjust the reading glasses that none of us wore when we started, I'll take a deep breath, start to read the words that I put on the page, and I'll remember.

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Birthday Wishes

Twenty years ago , on Heidi's birthday, the election between Gore and Bush went into overtime. It was a first for modern history, and definitely nothing we expected as we celebrated both her birthday and what we hoped would be four more years with a president we had voted for. We left my brother's house that evening kind of stunned and unsure, and the disappointment with what happened several weeks later has hung vaguely over every fourth birthday for Heidi ever since.

All that was washed away yesterday afternoon when this election was called for Joe Biden. The birthday texts came pouring in, all with a similar sentiment. "Happy Birthday! Enjoy your new president!"

I think she will.

Saturday, November 7, 2020

On the Face of It

We had the annual meeting for our community garden this morning, and like most large gatherings safely should be, ours was held virtually. So, at a little before 9 AM, I dutifully clicked on the link to the Zoom call, joining 65 other gardeners as we conducted the business of approving the budget and electing a slate of officers to lead the community through the next season. And I participated in the way I have become so familiar with over the last 8 months-- I replied in the chat and reacted with the built-in emojis. 

Here's what I didn't do, though; I didn't turn on either my camera or my microphone. I wasn't alone, and of course, I couldn't help but think of my students who never show their faces. For this meeting, the organizers actually requested that we keep both off, unless we were speaking, so I didn't feel bad at all about lurking behind a simple black square with name on it. 

Truth be told, I am a an immigrant to this land of virtual interaction, such things were literally science fiction when I was in school. That's my excuse, but the fact of the matter was, I didn't want to turn my camera on, and the people who had theirs on looked odd in that weird video call way: the awkward camera angle, the strange lighting, the distracting background. I didn't want any part of that. 

And although my students are digital natives-- the first iPhone is older than most of them-- they still resist turning the camera on. I guess some things cross generations and citizenship, but it's really hard to teach those little glowing circles!

Friday, November 6, 2020

Ailing Debate

 Another sign of the times...

As the kick-off to our persuasive writing unit, I always ask students if they like arguing. In the past? I have found that sixth graders generally love to argue, and any assignment with the word "argument" in the description or directions at least sounds kind of fun to them.

Today, though, when I posed the question Would you rather argue or walk away? in the chat snap the vast majority of students chose walk away. And when asked why? Well, one student put it like this, "I don't like to waste my time on idiots."

"It is possible to disagree respectfully," I said to the little round circles with their initials in them, but, and I know this anecdotal...

Crickets.

Thursday, November 5, 2020

What They'd Rather

One of my online teaching hacks is to give the students a "chat snap" at the beginning of every class. This quick question is posted at the top of the agenda in our Learning Management System, and so students have to navigate from our call to that site, which is where I want them to end up anyway. Then they post their reply in the chat, so I know that they are both present and engaged. As they post, I or my co-educator reads the answers out loud, and we often ask follow-ups to make a connection with each student before the instruction begins. 

I try to make the question fun, but also relevant to the lesson in some way. So, for example when we were working on leads to hook their readers, the chat snap was to post the first sentence of their independent reading book. And when we were looking for topics for their food narratives, the question was, If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Yesterday and today the assignment was to begin the second quarter by reflecting on their writing from the first. The chat snap was, Would you rather be able to know the future or change the past? Why? My hope was to use our conversation as a hook for the notion of reflecting and setting goals, but also to be able to manage any anxiety about current events by saying, "Who doesn't want to know what's going to happen in the election?!"

Their answers were mostly of either the I'd go back and fix my mistakes variety or the I just want to know what's going to happen sort. The replies of the students in one of my sections, however, were notable in their responsibility and altruism. I'm not sure if it's relevant, but all but one of them were from families with parents who had moved to the United States from another country. 

Here's what some of them said:

change the past, so I can make peace and stop war

change the past and stop corona

know the future, because I want to see what the James Webb telescope can see in the universe when it launches next year

change the past and make COVID go away

change the past, because I can redo all the tests

go to the future and see what will happen to humanity and the earth

But don't worry! At least one of those writers had a very kid-like caveat:

also, stop homework from being invented.

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Gee, Mrs. Cleaver

I watched my share of 50s and 60s TV when I was a kid. Back then, shows like I Love Lucy, Gilligan's Island, and I Dream of Jeannie ran in continuous loops in the afternoons. We knew their stories so well that we called them, The one with...

One show I never really watched too much was Leave it to Beaver. I don't know if it was programming or content, but it seemed like the show was never on enough to get us hooked. I could say the same about Dennis the Menace and The Donna Reed Show-- they were around, but they just weren't on when we watched.

Even so, I recognized an Eddie Haskell when I was confronted with him this morning. "Let me take a look at your reflection before you leave the call," I told one of my sixth graders near the end of class.

"Go right ahead," he answered brightly. "And may I say? I want to thank you for bringing it to my attention that my writing could use more detail! I truly never thought of that before!"

I pulled up the image of his assignment. It was a scribbly mess. "Do you need to type your work?" I asked him.

"What a great idea!" he said. "Can I have a little extra time?"

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Around the Bend

In addition to consciously not worrying about the election results, I spent a big chunk of the last four days grading and commenting on the first "big" writing pieces that my sixth graders have composed. As such? It's been a bit of a slog.

But reading my friend Joanne's blog post about hope and the election reminded me this morning that Martin Luther King said "the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice," and her optimism, and his, made me feel a little better.

And at the end of reading all that earnest, sloppy, wonderful, imperfect writing I was reminded that, in my experience, the arc of sixth grade is also long, but it bends toward literacy. 

Onward!

Monday, November 2, 2020

Tired Truth

"Who do you think will win the election?" my sister asked me as we FaceTimed yesterday.

"I refuse to say," I answered. "I just don't have it in me to speculate. It would make the outcome even more disappointing. I just want it to be over."

"I know," she said and held up her phone to show me a meme that a friend of hers had shared. 







Yah. 

Sunday, November 1, 2020

In the Ring

As I mentioned, one of the decluttering chores I did yesterday was to install the Ring doorbell I received for Christmas. For the last 10 months it's been languishing in its box as I wrestled with whether or not to keep it. For while I am kind of interested to catch a glimpse of the fox and deer that are rumored to pass by here, I liked the doorbell we already had, and I wasn't sure if the time and hassle of installing the ring would be worth it. So, the box just became one of those things that got moved when it was time to tidy up-- from the side board to the desk to the sideboard again, always placed somewhere that I would see it so I wouldn't forget about it and find it 15 years later. (I'm talking to you evaporated milk!)

Yesterday I made up my mind and reclaimed that 72 cubic inches of real estate. The installation, while not the snap they portrayed it to be in the directions, was not as complicated as I feared, and within 45 minutes my Ring was ringing and recording and reporting it all to the app on my phone and watch. 

No doubt the novelty will wear off, but every couple of hours I feel the need to check the footage and see who's been passing by. And while there has been no wild life, I have found cause for alarm. 

"Who are these sketchy guys lurking in the courtyard at 12:34 at night?" I asked Heidi, indignantly thrusting the phone over to her. 

"Um, isn't that our next door neighbor and the guy who's been staying with them?"

"Oh, yeah," I agreed, "that is them. But look at this! They delivered the paper at 3:11 AM! Why so early?"

"So it will be here when you get up?"

"Fine! but who's this guy in slides and bath robe?"

That stumped her for a minute. "Is he smoking?" she asked, squinting at the tiny screen.

I looked, too. "I think so."

"He's the other neighbor, all the way at the end. He must have gotten up and gone out for a smoke."

But mostly, the camera just captures us: me running out in the rain to rescue the pumpkins and the Halloween decorations, Heidi taking Lucy out, me locking the door before we go walking, us carrying groceries up from the car, mundane actions somehow elevated by the simple fact of their recording.

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Cottage Industries

I spent some time tidying up this morning. My 10 x 10 work space had become pretty cluttered, and I was feeling overwhelmed. In addition to the two monitors, iPad, pens, pencils, notebooks and folders that comprise my school set up, there was a little rock-painting station, 4 pumpkins, 3 spaghetti squash, several butternut squash, and some ripening tomatoes over on the sideboard, a six-pack of home canned tomatoes and 2 jars of jam, a bag of mason jars and bottles, some murder boxes, a crate of teaching books from my classroom, another crate of airheads, envelopes, cards, and stamps, a shopping bag with some items I want to have framed, and the ring doorbell that I got for Christmas and couldn't decide if I wanted to install-- all this, in addition to things that were in this space before it became such a multi-purpose area. 

To be honest, there wasn't a lot I could do, but I started by organizing the pantry to find space for the canned goods. Then I painted a few rocks and cooked the spaghetti squash, which we will have for dinner. Next I went through the shelf of books next to my desk, finding a couple to drop in one of the little libraries around the neighborhood and another few to toss. Then I painted some details on my rocks, read some of the books I was undecided about,  and replaced the books I was getting rid of with my school books. After that I installed the doorbell and painted my rocks some more. 

Believe it or not, there actually seems to be a little more space in here, but it must be some of the most productive square footage in the county!

Friday, October 30, 2020

Freezin Friday

It seems like all of a sudden those warm days of late summer are long gone and winter is on its way. I shivered in my teaching chair all day long, bundled up in flannel and fleece but only warming up briefly with a hot cup of strong tea. 

I may have to move my one room schoolhouse operation closer to the fireplace!

Thursday, October 29, 2020

Letting out all the Cold

The other thing I did with my homeroom yesterday was to take a NYTimes quiz. The premise of the challenge was to look at a series of photos of the inside of refrigerators and guess whether they belonged to Trump voters or Biden voters.  

Every few pictures you are asked to click on one item in the refrigerator that influenced your guess. At the bottom of the quiz there is data about the items that were most frequently associated with correct and incorrect guesses. 

The whole feature was fascinating to me and to several of my students. Beyond the voyeuristic curiosity of looking into a stranger's refrigerator, it was an interesting way to reframe our ideas about other voters with whom we broadly agree or disagree politically. 

I would never draw any but the most general conclusions from the pictures, but those refrigerators did remind me that I have some things in common with people I disagree with, and that is a slippery idea to hang on to in these polarized times. At the very least, we all have to eat.

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

Who is that Data Point?

One of the supports we are offering students during distance learning is a dedicated 35 minutes a day with a teacher adviser. Known as TA in our school, this contemporary version of homeroom, and pillar of the whole-child, middle school model, has undergone a lot of ups and downs in the 28 years I've been a teacher. For example, since it is not purely academic, advisory is often the first thing to be cut in the name of remediation and test prep. Even so, the simple truth that spending time with a small group of kids with the intention to forge a personal relationship is a positive and supportive equation has managed to shine through in the darkest of times. 

At our school, we are provided with a lot of guidance as to how to use the time we have. In addition to the conferences and IB orientation we do with our students, this year we have also been given some mindfulness routines and some current events activities, too. Not surprisingly, the current events piece has been very focused on the election. Such discussions are always unpredictable with 11-year-olds living inside the Beltway, many of whom are from other countries. 

Over the years I've learned a few strategies to approach that potential minefield. "How many of you guys have an opinion on the presidential election?" I asked today. "I don't want you to tell me who it is, I just want you to raise your hand if you support one candidate over the other." 10 out of 14 virtual hands flew up, but I felt like I had to check in with the other four. "So you're saying you don't care who wins the election?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral. They all confirmed that was the case.

Later, I considered who those kids were. In my homeroom I have six girls and eight boys. Three of the girls identify as Latina, one is Ethiopian, one is white, and one is from Nepal. Of the boys, three are white, one is of Eritrean descent, and the other four are Latino. It was the last four who did not have an opinion on the presidential election. If we had been in the classroom, there might have been some peer influence on answering my question, but one aspect of virtual teaching and learning with sixth graders is that the students don't really pay very much attention to what the other kids say, and I feel like my informal survey was pretty accurate.

I'm not really sure what the significance of the data is, though, because although advisory is meant to be a time to build relationships, the process can be slow, even in person, and I don't have a lot of context, other than the four of them are hardworking young men who want to do well in school.

But 100% in a demographic? That's got to mean something.

Tuesday, October 27, 2020

All Dressed Down

Yesterday, I actually wore pants for the first time in months. Like so many others working from home, my uniform has become athleisure wear, mostly tights and t-shirts. In the spring it was so I could work out without changing, but times have changed since we've been distance teaching. Now I just dress that way out of habit, and yes, comfort. My good old jeans slipped right on, and a turtleneck and flannel shirt completed a very familiar look, but I just wasn't feeling it. So today? It's back to the tights and tee, with a fun orange tie-dye sweatshirt and a Halloween buff around my neck. Is it temporary or is it evolution? Only time will tell. I haven't been more than a casual dresser in years, and who knows? I still might go for a run after lunch.

Monday, October 26, 2020

Gourd Heavening

I've had my eye on one of the little pumpkins that came from my garden. It is tall and slender and more of a golden orange than that traditional Halloween hue. When it was first growing, I thought perhaps it was a spaghetti squash, but I concluded otherwise. From the time it burgeons, a tiny fruit on the vine, spaghetti squash is the palest of lemon yellows, but this other fruit had the dark, mottled green of an immature pumpkin. 

And so a pumpkin it was!

Until today, when attention and opportunity collided: looking at that little orange gourd I wondered if there was such a thing as a squash hybrid, and I had the time to look it up. A bit of research revealed that pumpkins and spaghetti squash are crazy cross-pollinators. Plant two vines in a garden, and who knows what you'll get! Spumpkin? Pumghetti? 

I'm looking forward to cooking my hybrid squash in the near future, and if it's any good? I'm saving the seeds! A little squash surprise will only add to the the fun of the garden next summer.

Sunday, October 25, 2020

SSDS

"I hate that pan! It's. always dirty!" Heidi growled in frustration from the sink.

"I'll wash it!" I said. "I know you hate it, but it's the best tool for the job." In this case the job was roasting vegetables and the sheet pan in question was non-stick with a circular raised pattern that did a great job caramelizing.

I should have stopped there, but I didn't. "It's not really dirty," I pointed out. "It's like a cast iron skillet, seas--"

"Dirty!" Heidi declared. "People say 'seasoned', but that just means that there's left over shit from other cooking and they're okay with it!" she scoffed.

Did I mention my wife was a bit of a clean freak?

"Seasoned and dirty are not the same thing!" I answered indignantly, searching my brain for a logical reason that I was right. "Dirty means that there's stuff on it that you don't want, and seasoned means that you do want it." I laughed, because it was a clarification I had never considered.

It might be the same shit," I shrugged, "but it's a different situation."


Saturday, October 24, 2020

Kitchen Archeology

My brother likes to point out that the days are long, but the months and years are short. I know what he means, and I'm pretty sure his theory of time explains the 2 cans of evaporated milk I found in the back of my pantry this morning. Having no recollection of purchasing them, I knew they had been there a while, but I wasn't prepared for the expiration date, July 2005. Neither was I ready for the golden brown goop I found in the bottom of each can as I emptied them. Aged for over 15 years, I'm sure the thick and cheesy-smelling clabber is probably a delicacy somewhere, but as for me? I was just glad to have a little extra space in the cabinet.

Friday, October 23, 2020

A Hart and no Brain

Lately we have been watching Hart of Dixie on Netflix. Aired on the CW from 2011-2015, this romantic dramedy tells the story of Zoe Hart, a young NYC surgeon who, when she doesn't get the fellowship she was expecting, decides to spend a year as a GP in the small town of Bluebell, AL. 

Upon her arrival, she discovers that the kindly old doctor who invited her has died and left her his half of the practice. Early in the first episode, we all find out that he was actually Zoe Hart's real father. It's a fish out of water story, full of cultural misunderstandings, but surprisingly very few hard feelings. Nobody on the show holds a grudge for longer than an episode or two, even after they've been left at the altar. 

That is not to say that Hart of Dixie is a kind show; it is not-- the characters are mean, and often petty, despite the strong message that deep down they possess hearts of gold. We started watching it because it was loosely compared to Gilmore Girls, but even though the show was actually filmed on the same Warner Bros back lot that was the setting for Starr's Hollow, gazebo and all, I see more of a thematic connection to Once Upon a Time. 

The interesting core of both HOD and OUAT is not a likable heroine, but rather a complex villain. At least that's what it seems like the writers are shooting for. We are only on episode 26 of 78, and it's all still a bit of a muddle. Oh, I'm definitely over-analyzing, and I really shouldn't, because the best thing about the show is that it is pretty brainless, though, and after so many hours a day working, that is what we need right now.


Thursday, October 22, 2020

Me Mail Makes Me Smile

I had forgotten that one of the school counselors had asked me to add her to my class call this morning so she could observe a student. How one does that on an MS Teams call with very few cameras on, I'm not sure, but I will say that the student in question participated quite a bit. This afternoon I received a quick email from my colleague with the subject line Fun!

Hoping for a little positivity, I opened it up. Thanks for letting me join your class! it read. So fun-- makes me want to take a writer's workshop from you. 😊

That was nice! 

I also texted another colleague a few minutes before my conference with a student of hers and his mom. I noticed he has several kissing assignments, I mistyped. Is there anything you want me to pass along? Then I hit send without proofreading.

Oh, I sent the obligatory correction with a goofy emoji, but I laughed out loud when I got her email tonight, subject line Solution for Kissing Assignments. She filled me in on her phone conversation with his mom, adding at the end, I can't wait to be in the classroom with real faces. I kiss so much this way!

Wednesday, October 21, 2020

Need and Want

We woke to news today that school was canceled because of a major internet outage. Still, there were piecemeal work-arounds, and I had a lot of work around, so I still spent the day at my dining room table, what else? Working. 

Even so, It gave me a chance to get almost caught up with my grading and emailing and planning. Plus, I took a few breaks throughout the day, making a breakfast other than yogurt and finally finding time to get out the Halloween decorations. 

In a few minutes, I'll go out and stretch my legs, and maybe run a little. I need to be back at 5:30 though because I have a call scheduled with my brother and sister. Today is one year since our mom died. 

She has been on my mind even more than usual over the last few weeks, as I thought back to last year at this time when I spent the last weeks of her life with her in Rochester, Minnesota.  Even though I was away from school, I was actually teaching remotely. Every morning I would post an announcement and links to activities for my students, which they would complete under the guidance of a co-teacher or sub. In the evenings, I would check their work and plan for the next day. 

I guess that experience kind of prepared me for the transition to distance teaching this fall. I wondered this morning if perhaps my mother was somehow sending me this day off from teaching. If so, I wish she would have given me the whole day with nothing to do. But to be honest, that wasn't really like her. She believed in hard work and fulfilling your responsibilities without complaint. And in that respect, an extra day to get my work done is probably just what she would have sent.

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

Carried Away

There won't be many more days this year when I can walk up to my garden and harvest some of the vegetables I have growing there, and this afternoon seemed like a great time to do just that. It was 77 degrees and sunny with a light breeze when I headed up Superman Hill on foot. Once to the top of the hill I spun the padlock and stepped into the community garden, which I had all to myself, unless you count the goldfinches and crows. 

I weeded a bit and cleaned out the tall, bare corn and okra stalks. I picked the last two pumpkins, got most of the shell beans, some of my favorite little peppers, 2 quarts of rainbow cherry tomatoes and at least five pounds of tomatoes. When it was time to go, I realized that I was overambitious in my reaping-- the thirty or so pounds of produce would not fit in my carrying bag. I repacked a bit and headed home with 20 pounds on my shoulder and a bag of beans and a pumpkin in the other hand. 

I hadn't gone far when I began to regret my decision to not just walk home and come back in the car to pick up my harvest. Still, I soldiered on, mostly because it would have been uphill to return to the garden, shifting the bags and the pumpkins a couple of times until I reached the halfway point at the bottom of the hill. There I found my solution-- an ebike docked in the bikeshare station just ahead. 

I was so eager to drop my load that practically skipped over. Before I unlocked the bike, though, I had to figure out the cargo situation. In the end I strapped the pumpkin and beans to the front basket with the built in bungee and balanced the big bag back on my shoulder. Then shifting my weight to keep the bike steady, I teetered and tottered and then zipped right on home, where I delivered my bounty. 

And I was just considering a quick little pedal-assisted ride when I received a text that my bike's battery was low, so I sped out of the complex, up the other big hill, and around the corner to surrender it to the nearest station. 

Oh, I was a little disappointed I didn't get more of a ride, but there was definitely a satisfied spring in my step as I jogged home to my vegetables.

Monday, October 19, 2020

Teacher as Writer

I always tell my students the more you write, the easier it gets. Some times that is more true than others. Like tonight, when I was trying to finish my lesson plan for tomorrow, and I realized I didn't have an example of what I wanted my students to do. So I pulled out my trusty writing notebook, looked over the resources, and composed three quick leads for a personal memoir that I may or may not actually write. I guess it depends how the lessons go!

Anyhow, here are my three leads: 

#1

Snapshot Character:

The baby sitter was not stupid, and she was only trying to be nice when she asked me if there was anything she could get me to drink.

#2

Dialogue

"Can I have some tea?" I asked the babysitter.

She looked surprised. "You drink tea?"

"Oh yeah," I told her. "All the time."

#3

Thought-shot

Something looks a little weird about that tea, I thought. But what did I know? I had never had tea before.

To be honest? That did not take very long. I may need another activity for the lesson!

Sunday, October 18, 2020

Lessons from our Furry Friends

Sometimes it's hard to focus on how wonderful the change of season has been this year, especially when we feel too anxious and busy to appreciate it. Yesterday was crisp and blue, the leaves are showing their color all over town. And with temperatures dipping into the 40s, we had our first fire of the season last night. The leftover wood from last winter was light and dry and caught quickly, crackling merrily in no time. And also in no time at all, 2 cats and a dog were spread out back to back and nose to nose as close to the hearth as they dared, mindful of the danger, but stretching and sighing and soaking in the warmth. 

That's the way to do it.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

I Get by with a Little Help

For nearly 22 years there's been a 1160 foot, 10% grade hill between me and riding my bike to school. The whole trip is only about 3 miles, but Superman Hill is near the beginning of the route, and it's a deal breaker. Plus, I'm not getting any younger. So when our local bikeshare rolled out a few electric bikes to join their fleet, I was eager to borrow one and ride it up that hill. 

Today was the day that I finally got my chance. A bike scavenger hunt to benefit the organization in town that teaches kids how to fix bikes and donate them to folks in need is running asynchronously all weekend long, and I made arrangements to meet my nephews and sister-in-law at its starting point-- my school. So this morning I launched the bikeshare app, found an electric bike available just a little ways from home, and set off to claim it. 

My first impression was how freakin' heavy and unwieldy the thing was, but once I hopped on and zoomed away, I could barely contain my Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! It was fun and zippy, the bike equivalent of walking on a moving sidewalk. Counterintuitively perhaps, riding the bike made me want to pedal even faster, and I was up the hill into our complex in no time. A little while later, the true test loomed, and as the light changed I punched those pedals and took off up the hill.

It wasn't anything like the hot knife through butter ease I had fantasized about, and I was huffing and puffing by the time I got to the top, but I got there and it didn't really take that long. I made it to school in a little under 20 minutes, which is a manageable commute. 

There was another ebike at the station there, and my sister-in-law borrowed it. We had picked the easy version of the hunt, six miles instead of 18, but our ebikes made it even easier for the two of us late 50-somethings to keep up with those two twenty-something guys. 

My only regret was that we didn't go for the 18 miler, although there was a moment early in the hunt when I was struggling to adjust my seat. "I might need a little help here," I sighed. "Pedal assist and sticky seats-- welcome to my golden years!"

Friday, October 16, 2020

To the Bone

 When my nephew was three, his scientific mind was already developing. "What's in your ears and your nose?" we would ask him.

"Oh," he would shrug, "that's carteridge." 

His pronunciation my have been off, but he knew his facts. The same cannot be said for the designers of all the decorative animal skeletons that have populated the neighborhood in advance of Halloween. Cats and dogs and rats and even a horse stare blankly through hollow sockets as we pass, but they all have bony little ears on their skulls.

Riley would not approve.