I. De. Clare. Fun

Growing up in the South Jersey in the late 60s and 70s meant lots of muggy summer days with no air conditioning. To be honest, it was barely a hardship, especially since we didn't really know any different. Once it got so hot inside that the box fans in the windows weren't enough, we moved away from the TV and its game shows ans soaps and out to our shady side porch to read or play cards and drink iced tea with lemonade.

These days I spend most of my time in climate-controlled spaces, and there are many summer afternoons when I walk out of school or home with flesh so chilled that the blast of heat and humidity almost, almost, feels like a nice little hug. And even during the laziest days of summer, TV and card games are rarely on the agenda. 

Even so, today when the sweltering blue Atlanta sky turned thundery, Heidi and Annabelle and I took the dogs and headed out to the front porch. Torrents of rain spumed up into clouds of spray on the roofs and sidewalks as we played first War with an incomplete deck of Star Wars Hero-themed cards, and then Corn Hole with just one board pushed all the way to the end of the railing.

It was a perfect summer afternoon.

Touch the Sky:)

Hi I'm Annabelle, Aunt Tracey's niece. I'm nine years old and yeah. Today I went to SKYZONE, it's a trampoline park if you didn't know. Today I am going to tell you what I did there. The first thing I did was  get signed in and get socks. Then, we started bouncing on the normal trampolines. My brother Richard and I chased each other, he is really fun.

Next, Richard and I played dodge ball. We almost won. Then, we went to this thing were you try running up a hill, I couldn't do it though. There was also a line you have to try and walk across and jousting. Richard went against me and won every time. I went against this guy who was almost three times the size of me. I almost won against him but he pushed me down. This other girl was really strong and pushed me right off.

After that, Richard and I went to the foam pit which is really fun. I did front flips into the pit, but Richard was a lot better at the flips than me. We got bored flipping into it so we went and tried to climb a ladder across the pit. Richard went across and back twice but I didn't make it across once. The last trampoline activity we did was normal jump.We decided to do it again because we wanted to do flips, run up the wall, and run all around the trampolines.

Finally we had to go, but we got snacks and played some games. For example we did the hurricane simulator. At first I didn't really like it but then it turned out really fun. One of the games took our money and didn't give it back.We also tried a photo booth but that didn't work either.

When we got home Aunt Tracey and I played war. Then, we baked a cherry jello flavored rice krispy treat with vanilla frosting. It's really yummy.I haven't eaten yet but I'm about to. I'm having steak and the adults are having sword fish. we are also having salad. Richard is eating the same thing as me. After dinner we will all talk. Then I will get ready for bed and go to sleep.

 I really liked my day today it was really fun!
Thanks for reading my day everyone! I hope you enjoyed it and Bye! :)

Go Ahead-- Be a Square

When we were kids we were lucky enough to travel a lot. Our dad worked for TWA, which meant unlimited standby flights, and my parents believed it best for us to literally see the world. Honestly? It was fantastic! (Thanks Mom!)

Of course, such privilege involved a lot of time spent on planes and waiting in airports, and so in that time long before smart phones and tablets we became experts in entertaining ourselves with cards, comic books, and paper. One of our favorite games involved creating a matrix of dots and taking turns connecting them. Anyone who closes a box, scores a point, and such a deceptively simple game involves quite a bit of strategy.

So, today at lunch when Richard and Annabelle had exhausted the tic-tac-toe boards on their kid menu place mats and our meals still hadn't arrived, I flipped one mat over, grabbed a crayon, and began to make a grid.

Some things just never get stale.

Southern Hospitality?

We were just outside Durham, NC when we stopped for gas and a restroom break. The gentleman at the register was surprisingly dapper; with white hair, mustache, and beard and a matching white suit he seemed a little more suited for KFC than the modest little Family Fare convenience store. In truth, he couldn't have been more than five or six years older than I am, but his look was definitely from another time.

"Would you like a bag?" he asked after ringing me up.

"No thanks," I shrugged as I scooped up my three bottles of water.

"Well, aren't you the independent little lady," he noted in a nasal drawl.

"I like to think so!" I winked as I pushed out the door.

Just Pull the Plug

Oh my!

2 inches of water filled our nearly vintage Jeep this morning after a summer boomer last night. No worries! I simply pulled the plugs on the floor and let it drain. A few towels later and the vehicle was cleaner than it has been in years. Well, maybe the upholstery was a bit damp, but a hot July sun steamed most of that moisture away.

Good thing, too--

It rained again this afternoon.

A Morning Stroll

Dogs need exercise, even when the temps top 90, and so we tried to beat the heat today by taking the top down on the Jeep and rolling down to the Tidal Basin before 10 AM.

It was an eventful little stroll. We walked through an actual wedding that was taking place across from the Jefferson Memorial. Heidi, Lucy, and I skirted the group of 8 just as the groom began his vows. Unfortunately, the German Shepherd who was also in attendance barked energetically at the little puppy who dared near the ceremony.

Next we walked past a group of young folks carrying colorful, homemade posters. Meet a Muslim! offered one. I'm Muslim; ask me anything! invited another. They were a jolly assembly, and if I had had any questions, I would have approached them willingly.

A little while later we found ourselves trailing another group of young people with a very different vibe. "She almost gave me a Corgi playdate for my birthday!" gushed one guy, "because I love them so much!"

And when we passed by four generations of a family, Lucy was a good enough girl to sit and let the two-year-old pet her and (smooch her on the lips!)

At the Jefferson Memorial I got a facetime call from my sister, and through the true marvels of technology we chatted in the shade of live oak at the bottom of those famous steps.

Back at the Jeep, it was too hot to consider another trip around, but to be honest, it didn't seem necessary!

Staying in the Kitchen

This year my strategy for beating the heat has changed drastically. Instead of blasting the a/c? I open the windows whenever I drive and let the hot air cool the sweat from my brow.

It works.

Time is Not a Palindrome

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We are just off a string of palindromic dates, which is definitely one of the unexpected delights of living at the turn of the century. The turn of the century? Wow. Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that that time is this time.

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Forgive the banality of my observation, but time is a funny construct. I have found myself writing and thinking about it much of the, time, actually. My last two blog posts were unrelated but for their examinations of time and its passing, which I did not address consciously; those trite observations just happened to be the intellectual highlights of a couple of slow steamy days in July.

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Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of the times that inspires such meditation on time, or perhaps it’s my age that draws me to the ages. Certainly rubbing away my wrinkles every morning with a product literally called Regenerist is symbolic if not sub-consciously thought-provoking.

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Maybe living with an older person who casually dismisses pleasures of the past with such phrases as that ship has sailed and those days are gone is what sparks my scrutiny. I suppose it could be the time I have spent researching my family tree this summer that has led to a greater contemplation, but somehow I feel that such research is more an effect than a cause.

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I confess that I do get lost in the generations, though, and all the lives that led to mine. Four grandparents, eight greats, sixteen great-greats, 32 three times greats-- sixty souls and two and a half centuries, and me a dead-end on that ever-branching highway of humanity.

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Oh, but it turns out that I am in good company in my genetic cul-du-sac. Other childless folks throughout history include George Washington, Harriet Tubman, Queen Elizabeth I, Nikola Tesla, and Betty White. I’m sure they were all wonderful aunts and uncles, as I like to think I am too. Well, maybe not Elizabeth. She had the habit of executing her relations.

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That was a long time ago, of course, but I have recently been a witness to the cold complications of cutting off your kin. My elderly cousin is living with us now because she has been so forsaken. Their story is double-edged, as always, but none of the players can see their side of that blade. There’s a lot of blood, but very few tears.

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This is the week of the year when it seems like almost every kid I know has a birthday. Two on the 12th, one on the 13th, two on the 16th, and one each on the 17th and 19th. It used to be our dog’s birthday, too, but 13 x 7 was the end of that happy equation.

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There are so many mysteries when researching your ancestry, and some regret that you didn’t ask the right questions when you had the time and opportunity. Now you are at the mercy of vital record-keepers, newspaper-digitalizers, and hucksters peddling suspect intelligence for a monthly fee.

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What surprises me most about my family tree is that no one seems to know my grandmother’s birthday. Her children are all gone, but none of the remaining 22 cousins know the date. We do know it was sometime in 1902. I hope it was in February, preferably between the 10th and the 19th.

File Under "Time Flies"

Regular readers know that we love us some documentaries in this house. I happen to be especially partial to those that cover the history of my own life. As such? The CNN series that documented the 60s one summer, 70s the next, and 80s the following year was a big hit. But honestly guys?

When did the 90s become historic?

Go-to Philosophers

We had a lunch today with a friend and former colleague. Chris has been gone from our school for three years now, and as we chatted about this person and that, it became clear to me that, as usual, Calvin & Hobbes had it right.

What You Pay For

My friend Mary and I took some time out of our summer to write a little curriculum today. (Oh! Don't worry! We were well compensated for a time, as teachers always are.)

Our school happens to be a part of an international organization, one you may have heard of, and as such, the majority of our teaching is to be documented in a prescribed format. And so it was we found ourselves at 10:30 on a Monday in July anxiously scanning and rescanning our laptop screens, desperately trying to make sense of the comments on the work we had already done.

"I don't understand a word of this!" I said in disgust. "It's gibberish!" And I read a few sentences to emphasize my point.

"I know what you mean," Mary answered. "Every word is in English, but I have no clue what it is trying to say."

Still, we persisted.

Prodigals

There are a couple of young squirrels who have taken to lounging on our little deck whenever nobody's out there. They relax on the railing and even go so far as to nap on the Adirondack chairs. In fact, they act like they were born there, which I'm beginning to suspect they were. Welcome home, little squirrels-- don't wreck anything!

The Heart of It

We were shopping the farmers market this morning when a sign at a meat vendor drew my eye: they were selling beef heart for 4.99 a pound. It seemed just the thing to add to our pets' raw food diets, and so it was that I found myself butchering the two pound aorta of a beast who lived a happy and dignified life, they assured me at the market. It was muscular, but not tough, and had no sign of fat or other disease. It was a pure heart, and Penelope and Lucy will doubtless appreciate the sacrifice.

Obliging

Heidi can not stand having Lucy spend the night in a crate when she might be snuggling with her. Well, snuggling might be the most accurate of terms, especially since my wife has been known to send a beloved pet flying across the room in the middle of the night for the smallest of transitions. Still, they adore her, but from a distance on the bed.

That means that our pets wind up sleeping on my side, because it turns out that I am a very compliant sleepmate. On any given night you can find me in a variety of yoga-like poses clinging to sleep while trying to accommodate the dog or the cat. But Lucy has introduced a new wrinkle into our nocturnal activity. Last night she licked my feet clean for at least 10 minutes.

In that twilight state between wake and rest, my complaints were feeble; I think I may have groaned and wiggled my toes in protest. What she got out of it I have no clue, but tonight?

My feet are going under cover.

Fresh Produce

We saw Spiderman: Homecoming today, and while it was definitely a big explosiony summer confection, it was made it even sweeter by an extraordinarily low body count for such a movie. One. Just one single character died in the whole 121 minutes.

Oh, and Michael Keaton as the disenchanted blue-collar joe turned villain Vulture wasn't too bad as , either.

Ask a Silly Question

I stopped by the gym today to reactivate my membership after it lapsed a while ago when my credit card expired. We exchanged polite small talk as the sales manager updated my account. "So, you're a teacher, eh?" he started. "Do you have any plans for the summer?"

"Well," I answered, "I'm going to join the gym!"

Founding Fathers

My mom and I spent a little long-distance genealogy time this morning. The website we use has changed a bit since last she was actively using it, and so I was answering her questions as best I could. We chose an ancestor at random to use as a study case and started from there. Jones Temple is my five times grandfather on my mother's mother's side.

With a few clicks and a little analysis we traced our line back a few generations from Jones to a family living in Virginia in the early 18th century. "Well," my mother laughed, "it's not William Bradford, but it's pretty good." She was referencing my last big family tree discovery, which happened to be on my father's side.

"Who knows?" I replied, "maybe someone is descended from the Jamestown guys."

We turned our attention to more recent relatives, but our conversation stuck in my head. So after we hung up I kept digging, and? Believe it or not, it turns out that my 11 times grandfather did indeed immigrate to Jamestown, not in 1607, but just twelve years later.

I called my mom to give her the news. "He got here in 1619," I reported. "Which, I would like to point out, is one year earlier than the Pilgrims."

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled...

As summer vacation continues routine is out the window, and the days expand and contract to take on shapes of their own.

Take today for example:

Lucy and I woke at 6 and rose 30 minutes later; our young new neighbor breathlessly approached us as we made our first exit to ask what to do when your car is towed for no sticker; after assisting him as best I could, there was breakfast for all and Heidi, too, when she made her way downstairs around 7:30.

There was plant-watering and dog-visiting until it was time to meet a colleague at the dog park and then head over to try a new kebab place for lunch, dining al fresco at iron cafe tables in the shade outside the library. Arriving home with our exhausted puppy we decided to let her nap as the housecleaner did her job and take in a movie.

The Big Sick was entertaining, and finding Lucy still a little sleepy, we headed off to the pool for an hour. Now Heidi and Lulu are out on a walk while I prepare zucchini cakes, grilled chicken, and sliced tomatoes with basil for dinner.

From here? Who knows what the evening will hold? But isn't that the beauty of it all?

Like Cats and Dogs

Still no sign that Penelope is embracing the whole puppy thing; there is spitting and growling and hissing and yelping whenever the two of them get even a little close. No worries though- they have the rest of their lives to work it out.

Not so Lazy Days

Summer school starts at my school on Monday, and I am thankful not to be involved. One argument against summer vacation from school is the documented lapse that many students experience after so many months away. Not every kid has the summer full of reading and unstructured playing and  swimming and listening to the radio and doing chores and taking day trips and vacations and having conversations at dinner that I had when I was younger. Those activities were stimulating and involved critical thinking and problem solving that exercised my young brain, even if the game shows and soaps I also watched did not. Or did they? Maybe summer is kind of like the R.E.M. sleep of a kid's life, an active rest essential for proper development. Now if only they could find a way to measure that.

Kayak with a Twist

"Sure!" I said when my friend Mary asked if I would help her put her kayak on the roof of her new car to take to the beach.

"Ew!" I said when she flipped it over and showed me a season's worth of wet leaves and rodent-chewed styrofoam.

"No worries!" I said when the hose splashed me as I held the boat up at an angle so she could squirt it out.

"Hold that while I pull!" I said once we had the tie-downs around the kayak.

"Oops!" I said when we noticed the roof was bowing in beneath the styrofoam blocks.

"Let's Google it!" I said during the test-drive when Mary predicted she wouldn't be able to last the 6 hours down to the beach listening to the high-pitched vibration coming from the roof.

"Wouldn't it be funny if that fixes it?" I said after we read that if the straps are flat they will vibrate like the reed in a saxophone and sing the whole way, but if you give them a twist it will stop.

"There you go!" I said when it worked.

"Right!" I said when Mary laughed that at least I had something to write for the blog, and I should call it Kayak with a Twist.

Jiggity Jig

It was a zippy 7 hour trip along Lake Erie, up the Southern Tier, through the Alleghenies down to the coastal plain, and through this undrained swamp we call...

HOME

Fair Play

We spent part of today visiting with some of Heidi's extended family. It was breakfast with one of her aunts, a cousin and her cousin's daughter, and then lunch with a cousin from the other side and her 2-year-old son, Henry. They were very nice people, and I did a pretty good job holding up my end of the small talk.

And? Since one of my cousins is actually living with us, it's not like I had any room to complain.

A Wee Bit Homesick

Being on vacation is fun, but there are always some comforts of home that can't be transported along. I miss my cat and in summer, my garden, too. "Oh you don't have to do that," Heidi's mom said when I started pulling weeds from her flower beds this morning.

"I want to," I answered,"and I'd be happy to water later, if you like."

Too bad they don't have a cat.

I Tumble For You

Niagara Falls is one of my favorite stops any time we are in Western New York, and since Heidi's family is here in Buffalo, I have been to the falls many times. And yet, with a nod to Heraclitus, it really never is the same place twice. Depending on the season, who else is along on the trip, and where we end up parking, the experience is not only different, but new every time.

Ten years ago, you would find us in line with four little boys clad in yellow plastic ponchos and disposable sandals, waiting to take the elevator 185 feet down to the Cave of the Winds and the craggy path that leads to the decks on the edge of the falls.

Four summers ago we parked in town and made our way through an early Canada Day festival to the well manicured park just north of Bridal Veil Falls. From there our group of 2 seniors, 2 adults, a 12-year-old boy, and our dog walked over the foot bridge and on to the Horseshoe Falls overlook.

A couple of Christmases ago, Heidi, her mom and brother, took advantage of a warm December day and wandered the nearly empty park. All the concession were closed for the season, giving the place an air of abandonment, and letting us have the falls almost to ourselves.

That summer, we visited the Canadian side with my mom, sister, brother-in-law, nephew, and niece, marveling at how, well, Canadian,everything seemed even though we were within view of the U.S. the entirety of our excursion.

And today the sun was shining, a cool breeze was blowing, and from we parked we walked over another bridge and into a section of the park I've never seen before. A trail ran right along the rapids and made detours over raging tributaries to get out to the Three Sisters Islands. Then we followed it down the river toward the rainbows and mist rising dramatically ahead until at last we were at the top of the Horseshoe. From there it was around to the visitors center, which, to my disappointment, was under construction, meaning the statue of Tesla was in storage.

No doubt he'll be back soon. And so will I.

WNY State o' Mind

Boardwalk
Pedicure
Lunch on the patio
River walk
Corn hole
Cookout

Let the vacation continue!

A Handful of Weeds

On our walk yesterday, we passed a lady picking wildflowers as she went, creating a colorful little bouquet as she wound along the path. It was such a lovely idea, that I picked the next flower I came to, a sunrise-hued blossom appropriately named Butter and Eggs. We were distracted after that by other joys-- dogs and kids and creeks-- and when we met the lady on her way back, I presented her with my flower to add to hers. "They're beautiful!" I told her.

"Thank you," she said. "Other people would call them a handful of weeds."

I remembered her words today when we took another walk with Heidi's folks. The pace was slower than I might have made on my own, but I picked a couple Butter and Eggs and started from there. The enterprise occupied my mind and slowed my sometimes anxious feet.

Once around the little pond, and Heidi's mom declared my bouquet "florist-worthy"!

Around the Sun

We were tromping through a lovely meadow toward a footbridge spanning a gurgling stream. The sky was blue and a light breeze ruffled the grasses and wild flowers. It was a perfect birthday moment, one that made me reflect on June 30ths of the past.

"Last year on my birthday we went to the Lucy museum," I reminded Heidi, and this year--" I nodded my head at the frisky red puppy bouncing along the trail between us, chasing dragonflies.

"We love Lucy!" Heidi finished.

The Road Is Long

The long and winding road

We pulled out of our parking lot at 10 sharp, just as we planned, and headed north without a trace of rush hour traffic.

That leads to your door

"Bring me that puppy!" Heidi's mom texted back when we let her know we were on the road.

Will never disappear

Our map app directed us up through Frederick and Breezewood and then onto a combo of windy Pennsylvania roads interspersed with a few miles of interstate here and there.

I've seen that road before

It is a route we have traveled before, and one I enjoy-- sending us over mountains and through state forests. We opened our windows at one point and turned the radio loud enough to hear over the wind rushing through the car.

And we made it to Buffalo in 7 and a half hours, including stops for gas and to clean up Lucy's puke in the back seat. All in all? A pretty good summer road trip.

How Happy We Would Be

Why can't every day be 80 degrees, sunny, with no humidity?

Customer Service

The space was obviously brand new when I walked in this afternoon. Boxes were piled in the corner, everything was shiny and new-- except for that are still outlined in blue painter's tape. The system seemed very new as well; when the automatic doors swooshed open, I was unsure where to turn.

After a lap of the store and several failed attempts to make eye-contact with blue-shirted folks at hi-tech stations, I joined the line at the counter to the right of the door. People who were clearly accustomed to the former system seemed confused-- hoping to simply drop off this cable box or that modem, they were told to hang tight while their name was entered in the customer service queue.

The young man ahead of me was quite vocal in his dismay. "And exactly how many people do you have serving us?" he demanded of the woman at the desk who ignored his question.

"What is your first name, sir?" she inquired politely.

"William!" he answered, and sweeping his arm in exasperation across the chaos of the room, added, "I'll be outside smoking!"

At about that time, the store manager relieved her of first contact duty. He expediently checked the two people ahead of me, Lauren and Richard, and me in. After that I wandered the space some more wondering if they were going for an Apple Store vibe or something else. Either way, they had a long way to go. A dozen or so people were gathered on hip couches in front of a huge screen TV showing college baseball. All of us were intently listening for our names to be called from some station scattered throughout the room.

"Courtney?" called an agent. A relieved customer practically skipped over.

"Courtney?" called someone else from across the room.

"They just called her!" groaned a young mother from the TV.

"Sorry! Mario?"

And so it went, until someone called William. There was no answer. I scanned the room. He was in the back, ear buds firmly planted. I made eye-contact with the agent and nodded my head toward the kid on the couch. "I think that's him in the red shirt," I told her.

"William!" she shouted in his direction.

He pulled out one bud. "Did someone say 'William'?" he asked.

I nodded at her. "Thanks!" she mouthed. And when it was my turn? She gave me great service!

Good Idea!

Last year we celebrated the end of the school year with a lobster roll and a movie. This year, I was hoping to make that meal a tradition, and so around 1:30 last Friday afternoon when our rooms were packed and our paper work complete, Heidi and I rushed home to fetch Lucy and Cousin Elaine for an al fresco lunch. Arriving at the restaurant, we were disappointed to find that they had closed their outside dining because a storm threatened. Right across the way, another place was not as cautious, and so we had a perfectly pleasant lunch on their patio, although lobster was not on the menu.

Today, my hankering for that dang sandwich was still pretty strong and so the four of us tried again, and this time we were rewarded with a perfect summer day and the meal I was hoping for. On the way out, we ran into another teacher from our school. "You know what?" she told us, "I just went to the gym and thought Today is the first real day of summer-- I should treat myself to lunch!"

I looked at the lobster roll on her plate. "How is it?" I asked.

"Great!" she answered. "I think I might make it a tradition!"

Plymouth Rock

The reaction was not as I expected.

"Guys!" I called to Heidi and Cousin Elaine this afternoon from the computer. "You'll never guess what!" I had been poking around on my favorite genealogy website, tracing back the line of our Western Massachusetts ancestors.

They looked at me impassively from the living room. "Not only did our family come over on the Mayflower, but we are directly descended from William Bradford!"

With a polite nod, they tried to get back to what they were doing.

"William! Bradford!" I repeated. "You know, the head pilgrim!"

(Perhaps that was a bit of hyperbole, but he was 2nd, 5th, 7th, 9th & 12th Governor of Plymouth Colony, AND the author of Of Plymouth Plantation.)

"Mm hmm," they said.

Instigator

We are a three dog family for 24 hours this weekend. Lucy's cousins, 12-year-old Sonic and 5 month old Rosie are staying with us. I've written before about how Rosie and Lucy wrestle each other silly whenever they get together, and Uncle Sonic plays referee. I may have also mentioned how dog-crazy Lucy is. Now that is a cyclonic combination! So much so, that when Sonic and Rosie are visibly lagging and ready for a break, our girl is still rarin' to go.

I think we'll all sleep well tonight.

Appreciation

Yesterday I wrote of how I gave my students the charge to write the nicest thing they could about each of their classmates to end the year on a note of kindness and gratitude. Well, I, too passed my notebook around, and I was extremely moved by the praise of my students.

At the risk of sounding self-serving, I will share two comments:

The best teachers tell you where to look but not what to see. You are one of the best teachers on the face of the Earth.

I never liked to write, but you changed that. Thanks for teaching me.

The Last Lesson

To end the year I shared the story of another teacher and another class with my students. The tale of Mark Eklund and his teacher Sister Helen is oft-told: how she had him in both 3rd and 7th grade, how despite his squirmy talkativity he never failed to thank her for teaching him, and how on one tough Friday afternoon she had her students take a moment and list the nicest thing they could think of for each kid in the class, and how when Mark was killed in Vietnam he was carrying his list, and how all the other former students who attended his funeral had their lists also.

After hearing the story, we passed our writing notebooks around the circle and everyone wrote the nicest thing they could think of about each of us in our book. At the end of class everyone was excited to read the messages, but I asked for their attention one last time.

"Today is our last day together," I told my students, "and I will miss you. But you are all going forward together," I paused and gave them my best teacher look. "Try not to forget to be kind to each other."

We're Still Learning!

But online quiz sites are definitely some of my best friends this week! Thank you Kahoot!

Final Equation

   2 days left of school
+ 2 substitute teachers on the team
   4 goodness' sake, you guys!

Superlative

The big field trip for this year is in the history books-- we had another successful selfie scavenger hunt today. 47 sixth graders and 8 adults made our way downtown and around the Tidal Basin searching for fun objects and enlightening information as we went. Each find was photo-documented and posted to a blog created especially for the occasion. An IMAX movie in 3-D completed the experience.

Riding back to school on the bus I asked one of the chaperones if she'd had a good day.

"Yes!" she answered. "I had the best group!"

"Wait," said the teacher beside her, "I thought I had the best group."

We laughed. "That's the beauty of this trip," I told them. "The kids really like it, and so everybody really does have the best group!"

Lady Peeps

One of Lucy's favorite toys is a large lavender peeps stuffie, and although the squeaker gave out long ago, she still loves that filthy bunny. Today Heidi saw another one on clearance and couldn't resist the purchase. Oh, Lucy was thrilled-- chewing and squeaking away until she suddenly stopped, ran to her crate, dug through its contents, and produced the original. Then she gave a contented puppy sigh and flopped down with Mr. Peeps and his hot pink lady friend.

Miss Congeniality

For her entire life, our last dog was terrified to go to the groomer. Every visit was an ordeal filled with trembling and whining, and although she always looked great at the end, no one was happy in between.

It's hard to say why the experience was so negative; we have speculated considerably over the last 13 years. Could it have been that first time when they blew her out into a gigantic puff ball, and we laughed when we picked her up? Oh, the groomer scolded us soundly, but perhaps the damage was done. Or was it that time Heidi's mom and I gave her a bath because she had rolled in something? My mother-in-law is no one to be trifled with, and Isabel learned that lesson then.

No matter the cause, in an effort to avoid such distress with Lucy we made an appointment with our groomer for a puppy bath today, and Cassandra couldn't stop smiling when we picked her up. "She's so happy! She loved everything!" was the report. "I really like her personality!"

And although such praise made us sad that Isabel never showed her loveliness to the groomer, we were also thrilled that Lucy had no such challenge.

Too Much Fun

It wasn't the assembly with the record holding jump roper; no that was much too early in the day. That was followed by bowling, throwing balls at moving targets, the Indian version of red light green light, and a wacky British relay called corkscrew, and still, the kids held it together. Next we played a complicated Greek game a little like Ultimate Frisbee X3, golfed, ran around chasing balls and bringing them home, did a water balloon toss (twice!) and had popsicles before heading off to lunch.

Trying "Egyptian" food, making kites and flying them seemed to go pretty well, and watching a movie seemed to calm everyone down before the grand finale-- the student-staff basketball game, which was definitely a rolicking occasion.

How come it wasn't a better day?

That's Entertainment

Any student-run production is high on my must-see list, and although it got off to a rocky start, the annual student talent show this afternoon did not disappoint. I actually missed the first performance due to an impromptu staff meeting, walking in as the emcee proclaimed it "Amaaaaazing!"

After that there were several karaoke-esque vocal performances hampered by technical difficulties and somewhat marred by being much too long. "I want a comedy routine," I whispered to my friend Mary, and shortly after we were rewarded with knock knock jokes to fill the lag time between acts.

Then there was a wacky rendition of Cake by the Ocean with awkward hand gestures a-plenty; a number which remained our top performance until a seventh grader belted the heck out of the theme song for Captain Underpants which brought down the house.

Way to go kids!

Get Outta Here

This afternoon our team had a little going away party for a couple of colleagues who are off to other opportunities. There were small gifts and an ice cream cake to celebrate their new horizons and drown our sorrows at losing them. 

"I can't have that," said Joel, who has been on our team for four years, when I offered him the cake. "I'm lactose intolerant!"

Hmmm... 

I must have missed that.

Oh, well.

Looking Forward

A student waved at me on my way out of the building this afternoon.

"See you tomorrow!" I called.

"OK!" he answered. "But I can't wait until next week!" he added. "The field trip and everything? It's going to be great!"

"I agree with you!" I replied. "But I think the next week is going to be even better!" I winked.

He laughed. "Yeah, it is!"

You Got Me There

The upper 90s they were predicting inspired me to wear flip flops to school for the first time in a long time today. "Oh you had your toe nails done!" One student exclaimed, and although it was true, it made me a little cranky.

"How do you know I don't always have them done under my shoes and socks?" I asked her, eye brows raised.

She raised hers right back at me. "Do you?" she asked.

"No," I admitted, "but I could."

"No," she shook her head, "that's not really your style."

Drawback

I spent an hour or so at the garden this morning, weeding and watering and putting in a few annuals for bouquets later in the summer. When it was time to go, I happened to open the top bin of the little potting bench we keep in the corner, and a few wasps flew out. On closer examination, I noticed the beginnings of a paper nest, just five or six cells. It's inhabitants were as mad as the hornets they were, but luckily I avoided their wrath, smacking one of them through the air with my trusty shovel. I couldn't get in there to remove the nest, though, that chore is for another day soon when I am armed with something to subdue them first.

I did a little research when I got home, and it turns out that those five were probably the first generation. The queen starts a nest on her own, and then the offspring pitch in as they mature, growing their home exponentially. Luckily, I discovered their habitat early on, because lifting the lid on 125 or even 25 wasps could have been a way different story. Wasps are generally regarded as beneficial to gardeners, preying on insects that would gladly eat our crops, and I would consider keeping them around, too, if it weren't for that stinging thing.

So Close and yet So Far

After a busy morning of chores, errands, and working on grades, we took Cousin Elaine over to check out the National Harbor complex today. In the 12 years since she moved away, that site has grown considerably. Our main objective was to hit the outlet mall, but we stopped for a late lunch at the waterfront first. Seated outside, with a view of the water and right across from the farmers market, we relaxed and enjoyed people-watching along with our seafood.

Along with the tourists and strollers and shoppers and dogs, a light breeze wafted up the cobblestone way, and I took a deep breath. "Two weeks from today..." I started with a sigh.

"...we'll be out of school!" Heidi finished. We made eye contact across the table. "Hope we make it!" she said.

Making the Grade

A woman of about thirty walked into my classroom this afternoon. "Ms. S!" she cried. "Do you remember me?"

I was on the spot. It was the end of a long day and a longer week, and later I would find out it has been 17 years since she was in my class. Still... I didn't want to give up. There was something familiar in her face, a hint of the girl she had been so long ago in sixth grade. My brain practically creaked and groaned as I reached back.

"Is it something with a J?" I asked.

"Yes!" she clapped.

"Janet!" I said, and added her last name, too. And once I had recognized her, I went about proving I had remembered her all along, asking about her sister, brother, and mother by name.

She was pleased, but no more than I was. I know such a lapse of memory would easily be forgiven, but I still felt like I passed a very important test.

#afterthetest

On the day after a marathon 4+ hour testing session, my reading class was working on "evaluating a short memoir to determine the main events and create an illustrated chronology showing them" (aka the chicken chronicles timeline project) when a student asked if I would play some music while they worked.

"You bet!" I winked, and soon the Chicken Dance was blaring from my little bluetooth speaker. "C'mon you guys!" I encouraged them, until about half the class was snapping their hands, flapping their wings, and wiggling their butts to the music. And when it came to the slow polka part of the song, I locked my elbows with this student and that merrily skipping in circles while other kids did the same.

Oh, we had a good time, but not everyone was amused. One boy held his hand in his head. "The fourteenth reason why," he muttered with dark humor.

And then there was a knock on the door. "The office sent me," the messenger said in a hushed tone. "There are people testing in the room below you, and they said you are shaking the ceiling."