Infrastructure

We traveled most of the way on I-95 today, and what the GPS initially predicted as a quick little 8 1/2 hour trip  turned into an exhausting 11 due to pure congestion. It's impossible to begrudge others the right to travel on the interstate, and yet how much more quickly our trip would have gone if only our fellow citizens had stayed home. (No doubt they felt the same of us.)

The Last Hurrah of an Epic Summer

The bags and cooler are packed and waiting to be loaded in the van for our 10 hour road trip to South Carolina tomorrow morning. Buckets and beach towels, books and games, tennis balls and dog beds, Treat's guitar and Josh's long board, all are ready to go.

We hope to be on the road before 7 AM; we can get into the house at 4, and who wants to waste a single minute of ocean front living?

Not us.

More from Edisto Island tomorrow.

Out of Office

I heard on the radio today about a growing trend in certain smallish, white collar companies-- unlimited paid vacation for employees. Who among us could hear of such a plan without cynicism and suspicion? The opportunity for abuse seems so obvious. But still... the engagement and personal responsibility that a policy like that presupposes is just what I want from the students in my class. So when did it become so impractical to assume the best of each other?

As a teacher, I know the answer. Personalized accountability becomes nearly impossible when the group is too large to support it. When we must standardize in order to guarantee "equal" treatment, we often lose sight of the individual. As the debate on the pros and cons of nationalizing and even globalizing not only our economy, but also our food supply, our educational standards, and more, continues, it seems wise to find a way to allow each self, each someone, to regulate his or her needs in good faith.

Nifty Gadget

My pressure cooker was delivered today. I find it thrilling and a little scary to own such a metaphorical item. I have big plans for all sorts of canning and preserving, but some of the cautions in the 76 page instruction guide give me pause. For example, improper use may result in scalding bodily injury and property damage. They also recommend having the gauge checked at your local county extension office before using the cooker.

Confession: I've heard of county extensions-- mostly in books-- and in my mind they were not much more than quaint holdovers of a more agrarian time, so I definitely never stopped to consider that a) they might exist in this urban county where I reside or b) they might be of use to me. In my strong desire to avoid any sort of high temperature explosion, though, I took some time this afternoon to do a little research.

Guess what? County extension are great resources! With programs dedicated to family and consumer science, youth, agriculture, and community viability, their mission is to help the people of our county improve their lives through educational programs based on research and developed with input from local stakeholders. Clearly, as a teacher and a citizen, I need to check them out a little more closely (both with and without my pressure gauge in hand).

See? My pressure cooker is already doing me a world of service and I haven't even taken it out of the box, yet.

Connotation Counts

Is it just me, or does "ilk" have a negative connotation? Despite it's definition, I can't recall ever hearing the word used to describe "like members" of a positive sort: it's always I can't stand people of his ilk, or we'll not see his ilk again. Really... in those contexts, who wants to be ilk to anything?

So imagine my dismay this morning when I heard a newscast on NPR stating that President Obama would be meeting with teachers in the rose garden today "to express his support of a jobs bill that would prevent the layoffs of tens of thousands of their ilk."

Ilk? Ick.

Garden Pest

The woman who has the adjoining garden plot to ours has been a thorn all season long. Starting with our first conversation when upon learning that we were teachers, she disclosed that as chairperson of one of the citizen advisory groups to the school board, all five members have her on speed dial. (Should we be impressed or threatened?) She also told us that not only was she a master gardener with over 20 years of experience, but she had been the head gardener here at the community plots until she gave it up a few years ago. The look on her face communicated her low opinion of the new leadership. Never did she offer to help or advise us, and in the interactions that followed, I got the impression of her as bossy and judgmental; so much so, that I tried to find times to go to the garden when I didn't think she would be there.

That strategy has been relatively successful for most of the summer so far. She was on vacation for several weeks, and then we were, too, and I usually try to go up there on weekday mornings when I know it will be quiet. Not so tonight, though. After time away and a house full of company, our garden was looking a little neglected. We've been getting a fair amount of produce, but the weeds have been thriving as well. This evening I was pulling up some of those uninvited plants and pruning the tomatoes, when a deceptively cheerful voice called to me from the next plot. "Oh there you are! We were speculating that you had either given up or were out of town."

Let's parse that:  

We: she and other people in the garden were talking about us.
were speculating that you had either given up: implying that our garden was so uncared for that people were talking about it AND they figured we might be quitters.
or were out of town: a misleadingly friendly little end to the comment that keeps it from being blatantly offensive.

I shrugged and told her we'd been away, but oooh! I was mad, and truth be told a little humiliated. A little later the words of Eleanor Roosevelt came to me as I brooded, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent," and that made me feel a little better. I know that I am somewhat insecure about the garden, because I am inexperienced. I accept that and try to be mindful enough to learn from the successes and the failures, too; I'm going to make mistakes; it's only the first year. So far, I've been pretty happy with how things are going.

How easily my fragile confidence was undermined! As September approaches and with it another school year, I want to remember today and prevent such a thing from happening to my students as they too struggle with the new and the unfamiliar.

Over Your Shoulder

 My brother and sister-in-law and nephew came over for dinner tonight, and as always, our conversation was far-ranging and extremely entertaining. At one point during the evening we spent some time recollecting an old Cream of Wheat commercial. Remember the one where the bowl hovered UFO-like behind the kids all day steaming in the brisk winter air as they romped merrily through the snow? What an indelible image that created-- creepy and sustaining all at once.

The kids in the commercial never looked back at the ghostly bowl floating along in their wake. If they had, would they have been alarmed or comforted? I wonder. Forty years ago, I remember wishing for such a glutinous guardian, but now the specter of my meals haunting my days is a little too corporeal. If anything, there's probably a wee phantom antacid tablet shadowing me, and may its effects be as lingering as the spirit of Cream of Wheat.