Situational

We ran into a friend from work at Target today. It was a bit of a challenge to shop and catch up, but the three of us veteran multitaskers managed nicely, even separating and then reuniting in the checkout line for the last little chat.

Of course the conversation turned to summer activities, and for us that report always includes Josh. "I just don't get it," our friend said. "How can his mom let him go?"

We get that a lot. Our history with Josh is sort of complicated, but really? Lots of parents part with their kids for extended lengths of time for many reasons: boarding school, camp, etc. Such separation always has its pros and cons, and I'm not a parent, but why judge?

Tonight I asked Josh if he missed home and he said, "Not really, it hasn't been THAT long. Besides, I needed a break. They were really starting to bug me."

I was curious. "What were they doing to bother you?" I asked.

"Well, my brother and sister are probably the most annoying people on the planet."

"They're little," I said. "What can you do?" Then I added, "When you were that little, people put up with you."

"I know," he conceded.

"Wait, I take that back," I said. "When you were little, we passed you around like a hot potato, and I guess we still do," I laughed.

"Yup," he answered, but he definitely smiled.

Fun FILLED

This morning we woke Josh up around 9:30 and then Heidi drove us out to Historic Downtown Herndon where we hopped on the W&OD bike trail for the 21 mile ride home. It was hot and sunny, but still fun, and one of the highlights was the young indigo bunting that hopped-flew along the trail with us for a a few seconds, long enough to get a good look at that usually shy bird. We made a pit-stop at the Whole Foods in Vienna and fueled up for the rest of the ride. Once home, we quickly showered and then went to get Victor and Treat for another hamburger tasting. This one was at Carlyle, technically not a burger joint at all, but, before all the tasting, it was home to my favorite burger in town, so I wanted to see how it held up. Beautifully, as it turns out, and their pommes frites style fries are simply unbeatable. Another reason we chose that place for lunch is because we wanted to catch the new documentary on the hip-hop band A Tribe Called Quest. Directed by Michael Rappaport, I thought it was a pretty good movie. Next, it was off to the pool, and now, here we are, tired but satisfied, another summer day drawing to dark.

Summer Boy

The other day, we went to the pool with a neighbor and her kids. She's met Josh before, and she kind of knows the story of how he is our summer child, but I don't think she really gets it.

"How's it going?" she asked me.

"Oh, y'know, it's always kind of an adjustment at first," I said.

"Why?" she wondered. "Is it typical teenaged defiance?"

I think I actually snorted at the very notion of that. "No!" I told her. "It's just that we're not used to adjusting our plans for a kid!"

A Harry-Shaped Hole

Well, we did it. We managed to watch all the Harry Potter movies including the latest and last one, within the space of five days. Like any ambitious endeavor, this one became a bit consuming-- it filled nearly 25% of our waking time, not to mention our conversations and dreams.

"Sad but satisfying," seems to be the prevailing review of HPDH2, and I will echo that. As we stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house I had two things on my mind, the genius of JK Rowling and how to fill the infinite Harry-less hours ahead.

My July Almanac

Average length of daylight: 14 hours, 38 minutes
Family Birthdays: 8
Miles from our house to Mount Vernon by bike: 16.52
Number of different state license plates in the parking lot: 36
Pool water temperature: 88
Number of green tomatoes in the garden: 200+
Minutes of Harry Potter movies combined: 1179 (19 hours, 36 minutes)
Average burger consumption: 6 per person
Smoothie flavor: Peach
Full Moon: July 15, nicknamed "The Full Buck Moon"

Time Zones

During the school year I must rise at 5:30 to get all my morning chores done and still arrive at work on time. If you had asked me twenty-five years ago if such a thing was possible for me, I would likely have called it a deal breaker. I was a night owl and a late sleeper and I'm quite certain that it would have been my opinion that no job could possibly be worth such a drastic schedule change. Back then, the few times I had ever seen that hour were either at the end of an all-nighter or the beginning of a trip, and the grey light of dawn was always accompanied by that sick tiredness in my stomach.

I was wrong about that though. When I went back to school to get my education degree and teaching license, I had to switch my cooking shift at the flight kitchen where I was working. 2 PM to 10 was out, 6 AM to 2 was in, and my alarm was set for 4:45. Ugh. In light of those days, 5:30 seems like sleeping in. To be honest, though, even after 20 years of early rising, I do not pop brightly out of bed, ever, and even if 7:30 or 8 is "sleeping late," it still seems early. (For the record: teaching is a career that is worth it.)

I recognize the up side of starting your day way before noon, though, and so I find living with a teenaged boy who wants to sleep until 2 in the afternoon to be just a little irritating. We're six hours or more into our day before Josh ever makes an appearance, and then he's surprised when we turn at midnight. It seems silly (and maybe a little bit petty) to wake him up on principle, though, so I'm planning a few fun things over the next couple of weeks that just happen to begin in the AM.

Halfway There

We are watching all the Harry Potter movies this week in order to prepare for the very last of them all, Deathly Hallows 2, which will be released on Friday. Tonight we saw Goblet of Fire, and as Hermione says at the end, "Everything is going to change now, isn't it?" Well maybe not everything, but it certainly will be the end of an era.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I thought it was cool when my nephew asked for a turn table for Christmas last year. I had heard vague things about a renaissance of vinyl records and that just seemed like so much more proof. For his birthday today, we got him the new Wilco album on vinyl.

I remember when I bought my first CD. It was 25 years ago, and I loved how compact it was and how clear the sound was. I loved the whirring of the CD player, the way the tray opened and closed at the touch of the button. By comparison to that clean plastic case and shiny disc, my records and their cardboard covers seemed heavy, dusty, and old-fashioned. Within ten years the turntables were gone from our stereo cabinet and all the vinyl was in the basement.

But vinyl's decline was only temporary. It seems that most audiophiles actually prefer the quality of sound on a vinyl recording. Pair that with the convenience of mp3 recordings, and it turns out that it is now the CD which is endangered.

It was funny to see a wrapped LP today for the first time in at least 30 years. It used to be such a tell-tale package. "But you don't know which album it is," we would always say, "so it's still a surprise."

Nobody at the family birthday dinner tonight seemed to recognize the shape when we brought it in, though, even though I jokingly told everyone it was a calendar. "You don't know what year it is," I added, "so it will still be a surprise." They didn't really get it, but when Treat opened the gift, he was pleased.

The older folks among us started gushing about how much better the artwork was on a larger scale and how great it was to have all the words to the songs printed inside. My sister-in-law told us that at first, Treat wasn't sure where to put the needle to play an album. How would he? And in his own defense, he shrugged and pointed out that records are round, they don't really have a starting place.

"You know you can put the needle down on any track you want, though, right?" I asked. "You just look at the fat lines." He didn't know what I was talking about, and started to open the album to see. There followed a lot of direction about the best way to pull a record from the sleeve and the best way to hold it once it's out. All that audio etiquette that went out with the CD player is suddenly relevant again. Not only that, there's a whole skill set that almost skipped a generation. Fortunately? My nephew's a smart kid, so I'm sure he'll be able to spin a disc in no time.

Continuing Education

Today my friend and colleague Ellen and I went to a presentation at our local chapter of the National Writing Project Summer Institute. We are both Teacher Consultants, having gone through the 5 week SI ourselves-- me five years ago, and Ellen 12 years ago.

The presentation this morning was given by a dynamic young teacher and was on the topic of writing profiles with your students. I was especially interested, because I tried this genre for the first time just last month at the end of the school year, and I was very pleased with the results.

It was cool to hear how someone else taught it-- her approach was much more involved and well-developed-- but what was even cooler, both Ellen and I agreed, was to be surrounded by teachers with the same frame of mind about writing and teaching and teaching writing. The NWP is all about engaging, student-centered instruction, authentic writing, and writing to learn as well as learning to write. For example, one of the themes of today's presentation was using writing to give voice to ordinary people and uncovering, recognizing, and celebrating the extraordinary in all of us.

As we walked back to our car, we both wondered what it might be like if everyone taught that way, and we were both baffled as to why they don't.

Spoiled

Here's the thing about being off in the summer. Unlike during the school year where weekends are precious and never long enough, and you try to cram in as many errands and as much fun and relaxation as possible, now weekends seem needlessly crowded with all those workaday folks by the pool, in the store, at the movies, or on the trails. In fact, one quickly adjusts and replans most activities to take advantage of that midweek downtime. It only seems right to spread out the usage and patronize the off hours.

Someone's gotta do it.

Venius

Heidi is always super-appreciative to any who will listen about the vegan cooking I do for her, but I have to confess that I may be totally starting to believe my own press about it. Plus, I like the challenge of it! Today? Breakfast was light and crispy waffles, Carolina peaches, toasted walnuts, and maple syrup. For lunch? Spelt spaghetti with a lemon-basil marinara and a zesty green olive, caper, toasted almond, and nutritional yeast topping. Dinner was beer-battered zucchini finger tacos with lime slaw and roasted corn, tomato and avocado salad.

I'm sayin!

Planet of the Burgers

Today was a classic summer vacation day around here. I spent a few hours at the garden this morning, weeding watering and pruning and harvesting 20 pounds of humongous zucchini and yellow squash, then it was time for lunch.

In these tough economic times, the humble hamburger has become king. Steak houses might be fewer and fewer, but there are at least a half-dozen high end burger joints within a five mile radius. With this in mind, I proposed a summer project to my three teenaged nephews: Let's find the best darn burger in the area. The rules are simple, but evolving. They must have a veggie burger for Heidi, and we will rate them on their burgers, buns, sauces, and of course fries. We will consider service and decor, beverages and music, but they will only be deciding factors in case of a tie.

Our beta burger review took place today at a branch of the chain BGR. The burgers were huge (too huge, even for the boys) and juicy (too juicy-- our buns became soggy, because Treat didn't tell us until half-way through to turn the sandwich over when you get it) and the servings of hot hot hot crispy crispy fries were more than generous. Heidi liked the molasses in her veggie burger (it gave it a smoky BBQ note), but it was a tad too sweet. We may have to take a day or two off before our next stop.

After that, what else? A movie. We saw Super 8, and it was very satisfying. Before the show, though, they previewed the new Planet of the Apes prequel, and Josh was intrigued. He had no idea it was part of a classic franchise, so when we got home I promptly downloaded both the 1968 original (yes, Charleton Heston, pre-NRA, and younger than I am now) and the 2001 Tim Burton re-make with Marky-Mark and Helena Bonham Carter. We watched the first, and I would have totally double featured it, but after such a fun-filled day, it's a little too late tonight.

Fortunately, we have time.

In Season

When I was four we moved to a house that had a peach tree in the backyard, and so summer mornings meant padding outside barefoot in our pajamas to choose a perfectly ripe peach to eat, warm and juicy, for breakfast. A couple years later blight forced my parents to take the tree down, but to be honest, I mourn it still.

Peaches are the one fruit that I refuse to buy out of season. The apple is admirable in its longevity, berries and asparagus from South America, while not preferable, are edible, and I can even work with those hard greenish tomatoes, but crunchy winter, sour spring, or mealy fall peaches? No thank you.

Today on our trip north from Atlanta, we made a peach pit stop. It's usually easy to pass those well-advertised places by, knowing that most of the their inventory is limited to pickled peaches, peach preserves, peach cider, and peach pecan syrup, but early July in South Carolina? Irresistible! We bought a big basket of small freestone peaches and placed them carefully on the backseat so that for the next 450 miles the scent of fresh peaches occasionally drifted up front. When we stopped for gas, I ate two, standing in the warm evening air and dripping sweet juice onto the pavement, and well-sustained and very satisfied, I drove the rest of the way home.

It's Relative

Age difference can be a tricky thing. Whether we are considering siblings, students in a grade, friends, or spouses, a couple or twelve years can definitely shape the relationship. What makes things interesting is that usual complicating variable-- relativity, particularly of the human kind. There is no recipe for perfection, and any age difference can work for or against you. My father was one of eight siblings in his family; there were seven boys and one sister; he was the second youngest, she was the second oldest, and yet, as adults, they were closest to each other.

Who knows why? Certainly, as we get older, age differences that once seemed insurmountable become much more workable. On my team of teachers, we have people ranging in age from 25 to 63, but we all do the same job, and for the most part, we work well together. Contrast that to a conversation I overheard one day shortly before the end of the school year. It was the annual visit of the next year's students, so for two days, we had fifth graders and their teachers touring the halls and peeking in our classrooms, trying to get a feel for middle school. One of the girls in my class recognized a boy from her elementary school. "I always thought he was kind of cute," she said to the girl next to her.

Her friend looked at her in disbelief. "Omigah! You are such a cougar!"

Paying It Forward

Around the same time that we were having treasure hunts on rainy days, courtesy of my mom, Saturday mornings were spent under the care of my dad while my mother taught religion classes at our church. He always fried bacon, cut oranges into eighths, and served us coffee with lots of milk and sugar. He would also use all the furniture cushions and some blankets to help us make forts in the living room where we would eat our bacon and oranges, drink our coffee, and peek out to watch cartoons on TV.

As I write, Richard and Annabelle are camped out on top of their bed pillows, surrounded by couch cushions with a Diego blanket draped over the top, and watching Scooby Doo on the iPad. It is a pretty impressive structure, if I do say so myself. Thanks, Dad.

Timeless Pursuit

When we were very young, before we could read even, my mom had a special game for rainy days when we were stuck in the house. On small folded pieces of paper, she drew pictures of certain pieces of furniture in our house. Then she would set up a treasure hunt. Each of us would start with a different clue and then make our way from landmark to landmark until at the end we would find a prize, usually just a cookie or some other treat. That activity always lifted the gloom from any stormy day.

There's something about a hunt, whether scavenger, treasure, or other, that captures the imagination. Yesterday, when we arrived in Atlanta for our four day visit with my sister's family, one of the first things that Richard wanted to do was to "make a treasure hunt." At almost six, he had some complex ideas about hiding and seeking treasure, and even though I immediately recalled my mother's version, we played his way, and it was fun. This afternoon, though, as the threatening rain clouds ultimately gave way to thunder, lightning, and even some heavy rain, I sat down with a pencil and some slips of colored paper, and sketched a few of the more easily recognizable cardinal points in the house. Next I placed them carefully just as I remembered my mother doing, and then I handed Richard the first clue, and off he went on a hunt for treasure through his very own home. It was as big a hit with him and his three-and-a-half year old sister, Annabelle, as I remember it being with us.

I was a little worried that the kids wouldn't recognize my drawings, but they did pretty well.

"That's my hamper!" Annabelle exclaimed, looking at one of the clues.

"No, it's the basket in the dining room," I gently corrected her.

"That is her hamper," my sister told me, "I just haven't put it away, yet."

"I know just what this is," Richard assured me a few minutes later with a confident grin as he scanned another of the clues, "I've lived here a long time." And with that, he dashed off in search of treasure.

Well, If You Put it THAT Way

I was feeling impatient with my pasty white fellow guests as we tried to check out of the hotel this morning. The place was built some time in the early 80's and consists of studio- style rooms with kitchenettes and balconies. Each unit is independently owned and therefore individually furnished and decorated, and let's just say that our studio was a little dated and worn. I don't think that was true of all the accommodations, but the establishment itself had a bit of a cut-rate air to it. Take, for example, the free continental breakfast for two: an apple, an orange, a plastic-wrapped cheese Danish, and a pop tart, all stuffed into a small shopping bag. It reminded me of a cross between the bag lunches they used to give us in high school and the free breakfast my brother, sister, and I got in an economical hotel we stayed at in Israel: hard boiled eggs, breakfast treats, and tang.

The entire complex in Orlando had that sort of international bargain feel to it. I think Virgin Atlantic cut some kind of deal with the management, because the majority of folks that we ran into seemed to be solidly middle class British and Irish, hence the pallor I mentioned at the top of the post. There were several Asian families as well, not to mention many Spanish-speaking groups. It was kind of cool, but a little baffling to think that these people had traveled so far to visit... Orlando.

Well, that was my frame of mind, anyway, this morning in the 90 degree heat as I dodged groups of hotel patrons marching resolutely to this or that shuttle bus or pool, all the while trying to load the car. I was still a little grumbly as we made a last stop at the Whole Foods grocery to stock up on snacks before getting on the road to Atlanta. As we exited the store, a man approached us and handed us each a little card labeled "compassion exercise." in halting English, he asked us to read it.

The directions were simple: Choose a person who is a stranger to you and direct the following thoughts at them:

Just like me, this person is seeking some happiness in his/her life

Just like me, this person is trying to avoid suffering in his/her life

Just like me, this person has known sadness, loneliness, and despair.

Just like me, this person is seeking to fulfill his/her needs.

Just like me, this person is learning about life.

That put a different spin on my morning.

Five Lessons of the Day

Mango-avocado sushi rolls make an excellent breakfast.

Those little nylon bags with the strings that you can wear on your back are pretty damn handy.

They make child leashes that are like plush harnesses complete with a stuffed animal that rides piggyback.

Simulations are not as good as rides. Corollary: Old rides are not as good as simulations, but they have a certain nostalgic charm. (Ahem Jaws and ET)

It's a total buzz kill when the people ahead of you on the moving sidewalk stand still and block your way, especially when the people on foot pass you by.

Respecting the Line

Those theme park people really know their business. It was just a little after 8 AM that the shuttle from our hotel dropped us off at Universal Studios. Despite my misgivings, I felt my heart rate rise with the escalator that lifted us to the breezeway bridging the parking garages and the "City Walk." Moving sidewalks couldn't get us there quickly enough, and even in the harsh daylight, the neon lights were vibrant and exciting as loud music pounded from huge speakers and Carrie Underwood sang on a ginormous LCD screen overhead. We were practically giddy as we were swept along with the tide of tourists eager to enter Islands of Adventure.

And so the day progressed from there. Every detail in the park is well planned: the bathrooms are plentiful and clean, the lines are well marked with estimated wait times, and the baffles are all shaded, or even better, air-conditioned. Most rides with long waits have introductory sections that are actually an integral part of the attraction, for example Harry Potter's Forbidden Journey turnstiles you through the Great Hall, past the talking portrait marking the entry to the Gryffindor common room, and through Dumbledore's office, too. If it's possible, it almost seemed like our line moved a little too fast.

To be sure, it's a fine line between cheesy and cool, or between weird and cool, or creepy and cool, or almost anything and cool, but it is amazing how the most successful theme parks do cartwheels up and down those fine lines, ricocheting between meeting, disappointing, and, yes, even defying expectations to deliver something cool to almost everyone.

Dissatisfied Customer

I just wrote three decent paragraphs and lost them to the profoundly flawed wifi access that this cheap hotel provides. To be sure, I had a much more generous perspective on the place before their idiotic Internet access caused me to lose my writing. Now? I calls them like I sees them:

Run down, tacky, two-bit, tourist trap.

Yeah! Take that hotel!

Hi There Summer of 2011

657 miles
Torrential rain through South Carolina
Blood, Bones, & Butter
Oceanfront motel on Jekyll Island
Fried Shrimp for dinner
Next stop, Orlando

It's on!

World Cup Fever

Was it really twelve years ago that the US Women's team beat China (in a penalty shoot out, no less) to win the World Cup? Mia Hamm, Briana Scurry, Brandy Chastain, I remember that summer so clearly for a lot of reasons, but the FIFA Women's tournament was definitely one of them.

Today I saw the first round match-up between the US and North Korea, and watching the contest sparked all those old memories. There also may have been a certain vibe that was missing in the two German-dominated contests since '99. I'm usually not "that" nationalistic sports fan, but call me crazy: I have a good feeling for team USA in this one.

(And, yes, there's an app for it.)

There's an App for That

This summer I intend to go through a lot of my stuff and get rid of things I no longer use or need. I promised myself to dispose of at least one bag a week, but as of 6 PM this evening with a scheduled vacation departure of early morning the day after tomorrow, all my junk was securely gathering dust in its usual place.

On Wednesday, we are going to Universal Studios in Orlando to meet family. Before agreeing to this trip, I had no idea how complicated such a "classic" American vacation could be. Take for instance ticket levels and pricing. There are two separate parks, and a visitor has the choice of single park or multi-park access for one, two, three, or four days. Then there is the express pass; that will provide access to a separate, faster line for most rides (except the most popular). There are two types of those-- one will let you in the express line once per ride, but the other gives you unlimited times through. There are also meal plans and discounts on other area attractions that come with some tickets, but not others. Then, there's lodging...

It's hardly surprising that there are numerous websites devoted to how best to spend your time and money while visiting this particular part of Orlando, and what I also discovered tonight is that, yeah, there's an app for that. I have one that will give me a description and directions to any attraction in the park as well as the wait-time for the line there.

I think that will definitely come in handy, even beyond eliminating the need to refold those troublesome maps they always give you at the entrance of the park. In fact, it's mere existence has already helped me meet my summer cleaning goal. After downloading the "Universal Orlando" app, I turned to the bookshelf in our spare room and summarily tossed most of the travel guides and maps that I've been hanging on to for when we go back to Paris, the Badlands, San Diego, etc., because I realized I don't need them anymore... the most up-to-date info on my future destinations will be available on my phone.

Here Come the Veggies

Today for lunch we polished off that honking zucchini I picked from the garden yesterday, and tonight for dinner it's gumbo with homegrown okra. We spent a few hours this weekend trying to get the garden squared away for our week-long absence, and I can tell that, when we get back? There will be a lot of vegetables.

Hoo-Ray.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

A few weeks ago, I had a pretty intense conversation with the parent of a former student who is also very involved in the PTA at our school and in our district. She was concerned about some of the movies that the tolerance club had shown this year. Her objection was that we had not adequately helped the kids "process" the issues that they had been exposed to by viewing these films.

As an educator, I am wary of this idea of "helping" kids to think issues through. Many times it is reduced to getting the kids to say what they know we want to hear. This is part of the reason I became involved in the Tolerance Club. My experience has shown me that middle school children are very capable of parroting the "right" answers in discussions of, for example, bullying or discrimination, and yet their behavior when adults are not around belies their words. I wanted to find a way for the kids to come to the value of tolerance and acceptance on their own, so that they would be more likely to act on those values whether an adult was present or not.

I tried to explain my perspective to the parent. I told her that in my experience too much of education involved telling kids what to think rather than giving them the chance to think for themselves. She's a thoughtful person, and I received an email the next day thanking me for my time and assuring me that she values my experience and perspective, and asking if we can talk again.

Of course we will, and I'll welcome that conversation, because I thought of her today when I visited my garden for the first time in a week. There was a lot to do. The tomatoes were growing outside their cages, the strawberries desperately needed water, weeds were making steady progress, and the zucchini that had been no larger than my index finger had grown to almost 12 inches. I know I can't make my garden grow, but there's a lot I can do to help it do so.

No More Teacher's Dirty Looks

The last day of school is a necessary evil. Every year, the kids ask why we even have school and I always tell them the same thing-- if we weren't here today then we would have had this conversation yesterday; there has to be a last day. We do our best to maintain a regular schedule, or at least focus on academics in a fun way up until the bitter end, but it's really no better than glorified babysitting.

A few months ago, I read Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool, the Newbury winner this year. In 1938, the main character, Abilene, starts school in a new town on the last day. She meets her future classmates and even receives an assignment from the teacher, Sister Redempta. As for the other children, they collect their report cards, clean out their desks, and go home.

There's something to be said about going old school

The Old Lady and the Young Woman

Years ago I visited Ireland and took a driving tour around a couple of its scenic Atlantic peninsulas. At the time I was not a very experienced driver, and yet I did not hesitate to climb behind the wheel of the rental car, even though the wheel was located where I was used to having the passenger sit. Driving on the opposite side of the road gave me no pause either; I giggled a bit when, in a very charming Irish brogue, the rental agent advised us to “mind the roundabouts” and then politely added, “and please don’t curb the tires,” before depositing the keys in my outstretched palm with ill-disguised skepticism.

How many other Yanks had she seen go from brash to abashed when they returned their bashed rentals? Her attitude did not bother me, though, as I casually drove off on the left side of the road, and nor did the narrow winding roads scribing a thin line between the rolling green hills and the seaside cliffs. Admittedly, the roundabouts were a bit tricky, but it was in negotiating them that I realized that this endeavour could not be conscious—it was like looking at one of those optical illusion pictures that can be seen in two ways, like the young woman and the old lady—once you see both perspectives, it becomes easy to switch back and forth and also to focus on one. Of course, I lost this new point of view every now and then, but we returned the Ford Focus undamaged at the end of the week.

A while ago, Heidi decided that she would like to try a vegan diet for a while. At first, I was extremely resistant. Such a change seemed radical and frankly, a little depressing. Still, I agreed to go along for three weeks, cooking, if not eating, only plant-based foods. It wasn’t long before I discovered that I was having fun trying to create tasty, balanced meals from limited ingredients. I approached as a kind of cooking challenge, ever-mindful that it was only for a limited time. I found that I had kind of a knack for vegan cuisine (despite the inevitable failures: “cheesy” macaroni was the worst), and I also realized that I had been in a bit of a rut before, often relying on a rotation of the same old dishes in various combinations. For the first time in a while, I was thinking about new flavor profiles and researching new recipes and ingredients. I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t cook and turned my attention instead to what I could.

It is not my nature to embrace change, and lately I feel a shroud of dread descending on me at the least provocation. Reform Medicare? Change our email platform? Implement flexible scheduling? Work on Columbus Day? It doesn’t matter how minor the adjustment may be, I don’t want to deal with it, especially if I have not chosen for myself. They say that the Chinese symbol for crisis is a combination of danger and opportunity, and I can see how that is so. For me the choice is a little different: will it be the old lady or the young woman?

Silver and Gold

We held our end of the year staff party this afternoon, and it was a fun event. A couple of people are retiring, and so we took the occasion to honor them and wish them well. This is the end of my 18th year at this school, but it doesn't feel like it until I look around and realize that I am one of the old timers now. In fact, a few former retirees attended, and  not only was there definitely a generational divide, but I was on their side now.

One of my colleagues and I sat chatting as the party swirled around us-- music was playing; people were eating and drinking; groups formed and reformed on the couch, in the kitchen, and out on the deck. There was a lot of laughter, and my friend turned to me. "All of our young ones are really good," she said with a smile. "We're lucky."

I agree with her, and I hope they feel the same about us.

I'm Blushing

and those are real tears in my eyes. What I'm about to post may seem self-serving to some, but I want my mom to read it.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we're wrapping up the year with personal profiles, People Magazine type pieces of journalism. The kids interviewed each other, but in the classes with an uneven number, I got involved in the project, too, both as reporter and interviewee. Here's what one of my kids wrote about me:

On June 30,1962 in Washington, D.C a child was born not knowing she would be come a teacher and a miraculous writer and reader.
    Tracey is an amazing, outstanding teacher. But there is definetely a child within her. "I think because she has had such a happy childhood that she is so good with kids." Tasnim  says.
    She is exciting and always knows what to do. She definitely likes teaching and she loves kids. And she also liked by everyone of her students.
    She is the oldest kid in her family so she was mostly always in charge. And being a teacher and having to be in charge of kids, she does not really feel out of place. "My brother and sister didn't give me a hard time so it was easy being in charge as a child!" Tracey says herself.
    Tracey as a little girl would pretend to be a teacher and would dream about it too. And now she is living the real thing. So what do her kids think about her in class. "She is fun to hang out with but also strict." her student Ashley says.
    Her childhood is such a big part of why she loves to teach and be a good teacher. "My mom was nice and awesome but also strict just like I am now." Tracey say she loves to teach and be a cool teacher with  her students. "She knows how to explain things but make it interesting." Maeve says.
    You really just have to admit she is a great teacher. "Although I have to work hard I love to work with kids." she says. I for one think she is an awesome teacher. Teaching makes Tracey happy.

Reading this piece was a special experience for me, and I know from listening to the students over the last few days how eager they are to read the profiles that their peers have written of them. I'm just so happy to have found such a great way to end our time together.

P.S. To regular readers of this blog, the author of this profile was the very same student who accused me of sucking the fun out of everything. Redemption is sweet.

But Who's Counting?

Today was the day when my students totaled up their independent reading for the year, and as usual, there were some pretty impressive figures.

Average pages per student: 10,788
(That's over three quarters of a million total pages.)
Average number of books completed per student: 49
Most avid reader: 73,286 pages and 190 books
Reader most in need of acceleration and encouragement: 904 pages and 10 books

Every one of those numbers is up from last year. I had my doubts about these kiddos in the beginning of the year, but, both in terms of writing and reading, they have finished strong.

Best of all is the improvement they see in themselves. "I can't believe it," one student said when she saw that she had read 33 books and almost 6000 pages. "I used to hate reading! Now," and here she picked up her copy of The Divide and literally hugged it, "I looooove it!"

Seven Wonders of the Modern World

Or, Instant Gratification is NOT Overrated

Streaming movies to mobile devices
Downloading books
Managing a library account online
Forever stamps
EZ Pass
Digital photos and phone cameras
Texting

Six Word Review

For Terrence Malick's Tree of Life:

I like a more narrative movie.

Einstein Never Met Us

e = 95 6th graders + 20 bowling lanes x 2 games each + 25 pizzas + ∞ refills on fountain drinks.

It wasn't the beach and dolphin watching, but it sure was a good time!

Citizens of the World

One of my students is moving to Okinawa over the summer. As the daughter of two USAF officers, she has moved around a lot in her 12 years-- Arizona, Colorado, Germany, Alabama, and Virginia have all been her home. Inevitably sad to leave her friends, she is excited, too.

She posted this on her kid blog:

I GET A JAPANESE SNEAK PREVIEW!

So, for dinner, me and my family and our friends went to this Japanese place where, I ate SEA WEED!!!!!! Haaaaaa……. It was so good……. I was like, dry, crunchy sea weed…… And along with rice,teriaki, a wee bit of pickled ginger, and tofu, it was a very delicious meal. It was probably the most exotic meal I’ve had too….. Pickled ginger is very, very strong, it tastes like a REALLY strong herb or something…… Everett, our friends' less then one-year old baby, was staring at the waitresses with his huge eyes……. SEA WEED!

I confess that, given the variety of ethnic food available in the very culturally diverse area in which we live, I was a little surprised that she'd never tried Japanese food before, but okay-- she's in for an adventure, and she seems up for it.

My family moved overseas when I was in middle school, and it changed our lives. For one thing, living in a foreign land can alter your perspective on what's relevant simply by expanding your frame of reference. This alteration continues in my life to this day: sometimes I find that, given my life experience, it's easier to grasp the implications of a certain international event, but more often, I'm left with the awareness of how little I know.

For example, I have a student who has left school a week early to travel with his family to Dubai and then on to the Sudan, where they are from. Just this morning, I heard a piece on the radio about violence in the Sudan as the date draws near when that country will be split in two, and South Sudan will become the newest country in the world. I don't even know which region my student's family is from, or where they will visit, or whether they supported splitting the country or not, but now, I really wish I did. Knowing Omar and his brother and parents has put a human face on this conflict for me, and that makes it relevant.

Writing Up Until the End

So, we're wrapping up the year with a taste of journalism. The students are conducting interviews and writing personal profile pieces. First, we drew names to see who would be interviewing whom. Next, we read about interview strategies and composed a list of questions. Then each student had 15 minutes to conduct their first interview. After that, they went over their notes, looking for a theme. We read examples of profile pieces, too. Once they had decided on their angle, they conducted brief follow-ups and worked on figuring out what questions to ask other people to get the supporting quotes they needed.

Today we started getting a few rough drafts in, and I was very impressed by the products I saw: there were some compelling angles and interesting quotes, too, and the writing was really good. This was a great activity to end the year with. It gives the kids a chance to talk to each other and to write about a topic of interest, one of their peers, for an audience they know well, also their peers.

I'm Proud of This

As the end of the year culminating activity, the science teacher on my team has asked our students to design a clean water action project, so several of the kids proposed starting a blog to inform people about the issues and to build support and involvement.

Nice.

The Spirit is Willing, but the Flesh is Weak

I've written a lot about one of our cats, Bingo, but I rarely mention the other. Her name is Penelope, and it is the name she came with when we adopted her from a rescue organization. For the first couple of years of her life, she was a feral cat-- born wild and living as nobody's pet. The vet said she has had at least one litter of kittens, too. Her first three months in our home were spent in the guest room, under the bed. She was terrified of everything and everyone. We were okay with giving her as much space and time as she needed, though, because really? What's the rush?

Over the last seven years, she has come a long way-- much further than simply out from under the bed. Oh, she's still very skittish; in fact she still runs away from me any time we meet on the stairs, but she warms to visitors much more quickly, and there is something about her manner which clearly communicates her desire to please us.

Desire and willingness are not always the same, however, and so she occasionally bites and flees, not to mention puts up a hell of a fight whenever the cat carrier makes an appearance. Still, I admire her spirit, though her flesh may be a bit weak. It all reminds me of one of Aesop's fables:


A scorpion and a frog met on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asked the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asked, "How do I know you won't sting me?" 

The scorpion said, "Because if I do, I will die too." The frog was satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stung the frog. 

As they both began to sink, the frog had just enough time to ask "Why?" 

And the scorpion replied: "Because it is my nature."

70-30: Penelope would have made it across.

I.O.Us

As the daily blogging challenge has continued, I've noticed that my students often post an empty message with nothing but a subject line in the morning and then go back and edit it throughout the day. This practice makes me curious, and I have asked different kids about it, but so far, they can't really explain why they do it.

Call me a writing romantic, but I kind of like to think of it as a promise to themselves and their readers that they will find time in the day to write something meaningful.

Caught Pink-Pawed

I've written before about our geriatric cat, Bingo. Pushing 18, (isn't that like 300 in cat years?), he continues to astonish us. As I've probably mentioned, the most notable thing about his dotage has been his weight loss and subsequent voracious appetite, particularly his extreme fondness for vegetables-- green beans, butternut squash, avocado, and so forth.

Today, he added to his bony bad-ass reputation:

Roasted beets cooling on the stove? Shouldn't be a concern, right?

Wrong.

Missing: One whole roasted beet.

Exhibit one: Torn aluminum foil and a trail of beet bits accross the stove.
Exhibit two: Bright pink paws and muzzle on a certain Maine Coon cat.

Gee. I wonder what happened to the beet.

Think Twice, Click Once

There was news today of the press descending upon Sarah Palin's FOIA-released email messages, not the ones she sent from her official account, but rather the ones she sent from her yahoo account to alaska.gov addresses and also the ones she received from the state servers. Reporters were lined up to receive the 24,000+ pages, and news organizations are enlisting the help of their readers, viewers, and listeners to wade through the material in search of something newsworthy.

Who knows what they'll find, but it certainly sends home that rider that is automatically attached to our school email messages:

Please be advised that email is not a secure form of communication. There should be no expectation of right to privacy in anything sent via electronic mail.

Summer Bloggers

That's the name of the kidsblog.org blog that I set up for any interested students. A purely optional activity that I put in place to encourage summer writing, so far over 60% of my kids have signed up for their first "real" blog. They seem pretty enthusiastic, and who can argue with that?

Here are a few excerpts that show the kind of writing they are doing all on their own:

Well hello, I see you are reading my blog. Are you this interested in what I have to say? Well then go ahead, keep reading because, I HAVE A LOT TO SAY (most of the time). Let me just start out with me and my interview with myself. ~Lili


I can’t believe I have a blog! I feel so special! I have also come up with some ideas to make the blog(s) better! I think we should hold competitions, just like the SOLSC and Alphabiographies. ~Chris


Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and possibly Thursday have been and will be the best days of American Studies for this whole year. We have been watching the movie Glory! ~Jay


Just wanted to know who is ready to get on with summer!!! To take a nice long break from school, and kick around doing nothing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am!!!! Right now, I’m having a mental breakdown, and I NEED a break. ~Bridget


This is sooooooo cool! I just love this! I have always wanted to be part of a blog, but I haven’t until now! Is that just like everyone else? I just can’t wait to really get started. ~Maeve


Being stuck like glue onto a song isn’t a very good thing. Are you stuck like glue onto a song? Well, I am. And coincidentally, the song title is stuck like glue!  ~Joann


Take 5s are one of my favorite chocolate bar, if you’ve never tried one it’s like chocolate covered pretzels in a bar. Anyways when I was six my family went Hershey park and they sometimes give out free samples so I got to try a take 5 before it was even out yet. So when I go to Hershey park tomorrow I’ll try to get a take 5. What’s your favorite candy bar? ~Helen

It should be an interesting summer!

The Century Club

Today marks the 100th day since my students started their Slice of Life challenge back on March 1. I have five kids who have never missed a day since then, including one boy who called his mom from a soccer tournament in Philadelphia and dictated his post.

Here's what one student had to say about her accomplishment:

WOOHOO!!! It has been now 100 days of posting CONSTANTLY on SOL!!!
I feel proud now.......
Has it really been 100 days of posting on SOL?
Time does go quickly..
Anyways, I wonder if anyone else have posted for 100 days....
I would like to thank MS. S for making the SOL challenge, and I HOPE THAT YOU KEEP DOING IT TO THE FUTURE 6th GRADERS!!!
YOU ROCK!!!

Thank you, Silvia. (I'm sure she meant "for" the future 6th graders...)

Number Sense

A couple of weeks ago I was in meeting where the topic of a particular student's number sense came up. He can identify coins, the math teacher said, but he has no idea about value. I am not a math teacher, although I do love math, and I like to show off my own math skills anytime I have the chance. For example after-school homework club:

Me: What's wrong?
Student: I can't figure this out.
Me: Can I help?
Student (with doubt and a dab of disdain): I'm in advanced math...
Me: Yeah, I think I can probably give you a hand.

A few minutes later...

Student: You should be a math teacher!

And so it goes, but, as I also like to tell the students, I have been in sixth grade for an awfully time, and it would be pretty sad if I didn't know the curriculum by now.

So this discussion about the student and money threw me for a loop. Not having children of my own, I never considered how you teach monetary value. I'm guessing an allowance and shopping opportunities, but I was surprised again yesterday when one of my homeroom students came up to my desk.

"Can I go to my locker?" he whispered.

"Why?" I inquired.

"My mom gave me an envelope with 12,000 dollars in it," he told me.

"What!? She did not! Why would she do that?"

"It's for the thing," he said quietly.

"What thing? You do not have 12,000 dollars in your locker..." I started, but then I realized the quickest way to get to the bottom of all this was for him to go get it.

He returned a few minutes later looking sheepish. "It wasn't 12,000 dollars," he said.

I was not surprised.

"It was only eleven thousand two hundred," he continued.

"Let me see that," I said. "This says 112.00 dollars!" I told him.

"Oooooh," he answered apologetically.

"What's it for?"

"Math summer school," he whispered.

"Good," I nodded. "Good."

Stay in Touch

Yesterday, I stood in a large crowd downtown while a man to my left carried on a loud phone conversation. Where are you? By the theater? I can see the theater. Are you near the guy in the chef's coat? Oh, you're past him? Which way are you going? What side of the street are you on? Wait there-- I'm coming to get you. No. I see you. Do you have a thing in your hair? I'm waving. Do you see me? Come on over. Bye.

By the end, I was as anxious to see his friend as he was, maybe even more so because of how curious I was about the thing in her hair. Fortunately, it wasn't long at all before she and her pink silk flower walked past me, her arms outstretched, her hand still clutching her phone, and soon I tuned out their face to face conversation, trying to remember how we ever connected before we had our mobile phones.

This morning I heard a little story on the Writer's Almanac about Maxine Kumin and her best friend Anne Sexton. Back in the early 60s, these poets were so close that they had extra phone lines installed in their houses so that they would never have to hang up on each other. I'm sure at the time it was considered a bit extreme, but they were definitely on the right track. Visionary, even.

The Post-Alphabiography Post Syndrome Post

They say it only takes 30 days to develop a lasting habit. Could be. I'll tell you what, tonight all I can think of are possible alphbiography topics: W is for Weeding, X is for X-men, P is for PostHunt (F is for Fink-- you know who you are), and 2 is for Could There Really Be Over 2 Weeks Left?

A is for Alphabiography, Again

Today is the last day of the challenge I issued to my students back at the end of April. It started out as twenty-six posts for the month of May, one for each letter of the alphabet, but we expanded it to numbers for the kids who wanted to continue posting every single day, so there ended up being 35 possible topics, and those of us who did them all are on our last post today.

I am very proud of my students for all the great writing they have done this month. Most of them really stepped up to the challenge. Last week as part of another assignment, one of the kids was interviewing me. "So, how did you come up with the alphabiographies?" he asked.

I explained that I had adapted other teachers' ideas that I'd read about on the internet, and I told him that one of my objectives was for the students to build writing fluency. He looked puzzled. "You know," I said, "the ability to write more easily-- longer, faster?"

"Ooooohh," he seemed surprised. "Because I've really noticed that in myself lately and was wondering how it happened."

Life Lesson: It's not rocket surgery: skills improve with practice.

1 is for Just One of Those Things

Every year since 2001, our sixth grade team has taken a trip in June to go dolphin watching. It's about three hours away, so we charter buses, spend a couple of hours at the beach, and then board a really big boat for a 2-hour cruise skirting the capes of Delaware in search of marine mammals. Next it's back on the bus, and a few hours later we're home. It's usually a nice day and a pleasant way to end the year. It also offers experiences that many of our students have never had: the beach, the boat, or both.

This year will be an exception to the tradition. Our school system has adopted a stricter set of guidelines for planning field trips, and the charter company we use could not produce the paper work we needed to have the trip approved. I don't want to judge either the new rules or the guy who owns the charter boat; I believe everyone involved wants what's right and what's safe-- it just didn't work out for the kids this year.

Life Lessons:

1) Better safe than sorry...
2) A person's word and a handshake ought to mean something.

6 is for 6000 Steps or So

Tomorrow we're walking to a local park for our annual water cleanliness and testing field trip. Because we have about 100 kids on the team, we're taking them in two groups. It's always a negotiation to decide which teachers will go and which will stay back on such a trip. Of course, the science teacher goes; it's her curriculum, but after that? It all depends on who's absent, who's healthy, who's willing, and whose turn it is.

This year, like last year, I'm present, healthy, and willing, and so I'm going both times. Lucky me! The walk is lovely, the weather is supposed to be gorgeous, and the activity is fun. Not only do I get to be outside all day, but I'll get a little exercise, too.

Life Lesson:

Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side,
Keep on the sunny side of life.
It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way,
If we keep on the sunny side of life. 
~Ada Blenkhorn

8 is for 823

That is the number of this post-- I've posted to my blog 823 consecutive days. Usually, I try to avoid writing about the number of times I've posted, even the milestones, because I've decided over the last couple of years that there are two types of blog posts that are crushingly boring: writing about how you don't know what to write and writing about how much you have written.

Don't get me wrong. I've definitely written several of each type, but I try to give those pieces either an alternate focus, an original spin, or both. I'm not saying I succeed at that, and in truth I've almost made peace with the fact that it's okay to post something I don't love. It's okay, because it means I'll write again tomorrow, and who knows? That one might be awesome.

Do you know what will really be a milestone for me? The day I stop caring about how many times I've posted in a row. Because then writing every day will not be a chore or a requirement, but rather just a thing I do.

Life Lesson: If you have to think about it, it's not a habit.

4 is for 40 Minutes on the Treadmill

I try to go to the gym regularly; in fact I was there today. Whenever I go, my routine is to spend about 40 or 45 minutes doing cardio, and then I lift weights. It can get boring, even with music or movies to distract me. One of the things I do in the first part of my workout is walk on the treadmill. It's not very strenuous, so I have two options if I want to kick it up a notch: go faster or go higher. In "real life" I love to hike, so my choice in that situation is to raise the incline, or to climb as I walk. One of the handy things about working out on a machine is the stat screen: it will tell you your speed, your distance, your calories, and also your elevation. When I walk, I like to imagine that I am climbing one of the mountains in Acadia National Park in Maine. I go there every summer to hike, and the rest of the year I read the trail maps like favorite poems or post cards from the old me to the now me. So on the treadmill I watch for every foot I climb: 284? Flying Mountain. 520? That's the Beehive. 681 is Acadia, and 839 is Beech. 1373 is Sargent, the second highest mountain on the island.

Well, OK,  I can't climb Sargent in 40 minutes... yet!

Life Lesson: Everything prepares you for something. Find out what!