The Wizard of Oz has long been one of my favorite movies. When I was little it was only on TV once a year, and for my brother and sister and me that night was a very special occasion. It was almost like a holiday. All day long we waited in anticipation; we drew pictures of our favorite characters and acted out our favorite scenes. That night, we were allowed to stay up late and have popcorn and soda when it was on.
I liked the Scarecrow best; the lion and the Wizard really annoyed me. I thought Toto was the bravest, and the flying monkeys were super creepy. Of course the witch was... terrifying! I had nightmares about that scene where Dorothy sees Auntie Em in the crystal ball and right as she's trying to talk to her the image changes to the Wicked Witch of the West. Eeeeeeeeee!!!
Most of all, I loved the part where the movie turns from black and white to color, and I remember when I "got it" and understood that by doing that the film makers were communicating something important about the difference between Oz and Kansas. Even so, I was never sad when it turned back. There was always something comforting about those warm shades of grey.
Life Lesson: (What else?) There's no place like home.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
I is for In the Weeds
The end of the school year seems hectic to everyone. Students feel pressured to prepare and do well on standardized tests, teachers feel that deadline, too, and the change in everybody's schedules makes things feel a little off balance. In the food business, there's an expression for being waaaaay behind in your work. When that happens, you're in the weeds.
Every other job I've ever had besides teaching has been food-related: Before I was a teacher, I worked as a professional cook, and before that I waited tables, and before that I was a student manager in my college cafeteria, and before that I had kitchen duty in high school. So you could say that I know what it's like to be in the weeds.
In addition to my regular planning, teaching, and grading, I have a lot to do in the next 29 days-- meetings, unit plans, observations, field trips, team activities, and lit mags all need to be checked off my lengthy list. Wait! What's that I see all around me? Yep... it's definitely the weeds.
Life Lesson: The view is worth the climb.
Every other job I've ever had besides teaching has been food-related: Before I was a teacher, I worked as a professional cook, and before that I waited tables, and before that I was a student manager in my college cafeteria, and before that I had kitchen duty in high school. So you could say that I know what it's like to be in the weeds.
In addition to my regular planning, teaching, and grading, I have a lot to do in the next 29 days-- meetings, unit plans, observations, field trips, team activities, and lit mags all need to be checked off my lengthy list. Wait! What's that I see all around me? Yep... it's definitely the weeds.
Life Lesson: The view is worth the climb.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
O is for One Way Trip
In the science section of The Washington Post this morning, there was an article about journeying to Mars. It seems that some scientists believe that people will be ready to go and explore the red planet a lot sooner if we don't have to worry about getting them back... Yes, you read correctly. The mission to Mars would be one way. Explorers would have everything they needed to survive and start a colony, except a way back to Earth.
Nobody thinks that life on Mars would be easy, or even last very long, but it would undeniably be one of the greatest exploratory expeditions ever. In fact, over a thousand people have already informally volunteered to be a part of the project.
Think about it though: how different would the experience of going to Mars be than that of most people who immigrated to America a hundred and fifty years ago? Not much-- leaving your family then was almost always a last good-bye, and yet millions of people made that choice. In fact, most of us wouldn't be here if they hadn't.
Life Lesson: Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
Nobody thinks that life on Mars would be easy, or even last very long, but it would undeniably be one of the greatest exploratory expeditions ever. In fact, over a thousand people have already informally volunteered to be a part of the project.
Think about it though: how different would the experience of going to Mars be than that of most people who immigrated to America a hundred and fifty years ago? Not much-- leaving your family then was almost always a last good-bye, and yet millions of people made that choice. In fact, most of us wouldn't be here if they hadn't.
Life Lesson: Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
Monday, May 23, 2011
W is for a Wild Animal in My Garden
It's funny how kids become famous in a family for certain things they said or did when they were little. My sister used to say "Mo," when she meant "No," and my brother was well-known for his fish face-- the extreme pout he put on when he was verrrry displeased.
Our next generation have all had their memorable moments and quotes as well. When he was two, my nephew Riley fell flat on his bottom after trying and failing to give our cat a good kick in the butt. We scolded him soundly, of course. "What were you thinking!?" we asked.
"I just wanted to kick him over," he answered honestly.
His brother, Treat, is remembered for many things he said when he was a wee beastie, and one of them was, "I'm just going to skip time out... yeah, that's an option." It really wasn't.
Our godson Josh desperately wanted a pet hamster, unfortunately, the one he got was not a very friendly fellow-- he would bite anybody who even tried to pick him up. "He's not a ho'din hamster," Josh would tell us sadly.
Kyle, our nephew, used to call our dog Isabel, "Lisabel," and Lizzy is still one of her nicknames.
When he was very little, my youngest nephew, Richard, loved diggers and trucks. One day, as a dump truck rattled noisily past the house, he ran to see what it was, then turned to us with two thumbs up. "That guy was movin!" he reported.
His sister Annabelle, once saw a possum in the back yard. To this day she'll tell you about it, breathlessly: "I saw a wild animal in my garden!"
Life Lesson: Kids say and do the darnedest things, and even if they usually don't remember them, no worries-- that's what the older people are for.
Our next generation have all had their memorable moments and quotes as well. When he was two, my nephew Riley fell flat on his bottom after trying and failing to give our cat a good kick in the butt. We scolded him soundly, of course. "What were you thinking!?" we asked.
"I just wanted to kick him over," he answered honestly.
His brother, Treat, is remembered for many things he said when he was a wee beastie, and one of them was, "I'm just going to skip time out... yeah, that's an option." It really wasn't.
Our godson Josh desperately wanted a pet hamster, unfortunately, the one he got was not a very friendly fellow-- he would bite anybody who even tried to pick him up. "He's not a ho'din hamster," Josh would tell us sadly.
Kyle, our nephew, used to call our dog Isabel, "Lisabel," and Lizzy is still one of her nicknames.
When he was very little, my youngest nephew, Richard, loved diggers and trucks. One day, as a dump truck rattled noisily past the house, he ran to see what it was, then turned to us with two thumbs up. "That guy was movin!" he reported.
His sister Annabelle, once saw a possum in the back yard. To this day she'll tell you about it, breathlessly: "I saw a wild animal in my garden!"
Life Lesson: Kids say and do the darnedest things, and even if they usually don't remember them, no worries-- that's what the older people are for.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
L is for Lee's Woods
Arlington National Cemetery might be one of the most famous cemeteries in the world. More than 300,000 people have been buried there in the last 147 years, but few people know that it was designated as a cemetery in part to punish Robert E. Lee. Until the Civil War, the land that ANC lies on today belonged to Lee and his family. Their mansion still stands on the hill overlooking Washington, DC and surrounded by thousands of graves. When Lee made the decision to fight for Virginia and the Confederacy, his land was confiscated by the Union. Montgomery Meigs, a former friend of Robert E. Lee, and the Quartermaster General of the Union Army ordered the first soldiers buried in what had been the Lee's garden, because he knew that once that was done, the Lees would never return to live in their family home again. Meig's son had been killed in the war, and Meigs was so angry with Lee's betrayal that he wanted to make sure he lost his home.
It's amazing to think about all the history of that location-- both human and natural: because the grounds used to be private property, there is a stand of woods that is one of the last old growth forests left on the east coast. (Most woods in the United States have been cleared and farmed or settled at one point, and have now returned to forest, but an old growth forest is one that has never been cut down.) Right across the street from the mansion, are some woods, and some of the trees growing there today were standing when Robert E. Lee was alive, 150 years ago and longer. There is also a huge wild raspberry patch-- don't ask me how I know-- but around the fourth of July, you can pick ten pounds of berries if you know where to go. Watch out for the poison ivy, though.
Life Lesson: The life of humanity is so long, and that of the individual so brief... it is history that teaches us to hope. ~Robert E. Lee
It's amazing to think about all the history of that location-- both human and natural: because the grounds used to be private property, there is a stand of woods that is one of the last old growth forests left on the east coast. (Most woods in the United States have been cleared and farmed or settled at one point, and have now returned to forest, but an old growth forest is one that has never been cut down.) Right across the street from the mansion, are some woods, and some of the trees growing there today were standing when Robert E. Lee was alive, 150 years ago and longer. There is also a huge wild raspberry patch-- don't ask me how I know-- but around the fourth of July, you can pick ten pounds of berries if you know where to go. Watch out for the poison ivy, though.
Life Lesson: The life of humanity is so long, and that of the individual so brief... it is history that teaches us to hope. ~Robert E. Lee
Saturday, May 21, 2011
D is for Doomsday
The beginning of the end of the world did not happen today. Despite the predictions of a small but vocal group of religious fundamentalists, half of the people on earth did not disappear leaving the others to face five months of turmoil before the ultimate apocalypse.
There was no catastrophe back on January 1, 2000, either, even though many people told us there would be a huge problem when lots of computers thought it was 1900 instead of 2000. New Years Day was as quiet and uneventful as usual.
Our next date with doom is on December 21, 2012. That's when the Mayan calendar supposedly ends, and with it, some people think, the world as we know it. Whenever someone asks me what I think of such predictions, my usual reply is something like, "I don't think so, but what do I know?"
Life Lesson:
Fire and Ice
By Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
There was no catastrophe back on January 1, 2000, either, even though many people told us there would be a huge problem when lots of computers thought it was 1900 instead of 2000. New Years Day was as quiet and uneventful as usual.
Our next date with doom is on December 21, 2012. That's when the Mayan calendar supposedly ends, and with it, some people think, the world as we know it. Whenever someone asks me what I think of such predictions, my usual reply is something like, "I don't think so, but what do I know?"
Life Lesson:
Fire and Ice
By Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Friday, May 20, 2011
R is for Remains
We were fascinated in my third period class this week when one of the students came in with the tale of confiscating a relatively fresh skull from her dog. According to her, there was still some hair and tissue, but otherwise the thing was not very recognizable (although her dad thought it might be a cat!). All those police and detective novels I've read kicked right in, and after questioning her for a few more relevant details, I started googling images of small mammal skulls, but without any luck. It wasn't a cat, a squirrel, a possum, a raccoon, or a puppy (thank goodness...). It was always the eye size that was wrong-- whatever it was, it had pretty tiny eyes. When the bell rang for lunch, I sighed and gave up.
Fortunately, she brought a cell phone photo in today, and before I ever got to see the picture, one of the other kids recognized it as a skunk. We searched again for an image to confirm his hypothesis, but it was never 100%. There was too much gore on the one in her picture to make a positive identification. LAter, though, I did some more research and found that skunks do indeed have very small eyes. They rely on their hearing and smelling more than sight.
Coincidentally, I heard a story on the radio this morning about why mammals have such big brains, especially compared to reptiles. Millions of years ago, dinosaurs were hunting in the day, so anything that could hunt at night had an advantage, because it wasn't prey or competition to the dinosaurs. The theory goes that mammals developed a strong sense of smell to help them hunt in the dark, and that the sense of smell takes up more brain space, so their brains grew to be larger and larger. Later, some mammals evolved into daytime predators, and they have larger eyes, but not the skunk. Good job, Skunk!
Life Lesson: Do what you're good at.
Fortunately, she brought a cell phone photo in today, and before I ever got to see the picture, one of the other kids recognized it as a skunk. We searched again for an image to confirm his hypothesis, but it was never 100%. There was too much gore on the one in her picture to make a positive identification. LAter, though, I did some more research and found that skunks do indeed have very small eyes. They rely on their hearing and smelling more than sight.
Coincidentally, I heard a story on the radio this morning about why mammals have such big brains, especially compared to reptiles. Millions of years ago, dinosaurs were hunting in the day, so anything that could hunt at night had an advantage, because it wasn't prey or competition to the dinosaurs. The theory goes that mammals developed a strong sense of smell to help them hunt in the dark, and that the sense of smell takes up more brain space, so their brains grew to be larger and larger. Later, some mammals evolved into daytime predators, and they have larger eyes, but not the skunk. Good job, Skunk!
Life Lesson: Do what you're good at.
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