The Rabbit Test

When I was a kid, a popular punch line on some of the silly sitcom re-runs we loved to watch was, "The rabbit died." Upon hearing the sentence, the studio audience would roar with laughter at the recognition that somewhere a pregnancy test was administered, and the resulting death of the lab rabbit meant that the woman was expecting... or not. Rabbits die under other circumstances sometimes, and that was the joke.

Today you can pee on a stick and get the same diagnostic results, and I'm sure rabbits everywhere are super-relieved, but back then I never gave those rabbits who died a second thought-- they may as well have been paper strips thrown in the trash once they had served their purpose.

Over the past week, Heidi has been caring for our neighbor's pet rabbit. A rescue bunny, Oliver had a room of his own, and, despite his understandably ornery disposition, was well-loved. Yesterday when she went to check on him, Heidi found Oliver lying still in his crate, a pet-sitter's nightmare and so not funny.

I guess it's different when you know the rabbit.

Two Day Weekends

Who thought that was a good idea?

Turn, Turn, Turn

Even though it was warm and muggy this morning when I took the dog out, the light breeze must have suggested a change to me. I couldn't feel it, but when we got back the muffins I baked were pumpkin instead of peach, and tonight we have mashed potatoes for dinner where last night there was ratatouille.

Sure enough, there was an hour of severe weather this afternoon, and tomorrow it is predicted to be in the 70s.

Now that is change I can embrace.

On to the Next Thing

Menu:

• 100% all beef Halal hot dog on  bun
• Individual bag of chips
• Bottle of water
• Slice of watermelon

Number of diners:     
        350
Total cost:

• $481.57 or
• $1.38 per person

2012 Sixth Grade Picnic:

• A success!
• Over!

How'd I Do, Mark Zuckerberg?

Tonight when I was squandering a little time checking in on Facebook, my eye was caught by an invitation to complete a survey. You might think I would feel all-surveyed out, given that particular form of data collection's heightened popularity around our neck of education, but I was interested in offering feedback on my Facebook experience. Plus, sometimes when I'm really cranky, it helps to go all negative on some random survey-- it's like sucking the venom from a snakebite or something.

So... imagine my surprise when after the first question, which was about Facebook, they started asking me where I get my news and how often. Then they wanted to know my level of education and my political opinions on the upcoming presidential election. Thank goodness I didn't exaggerate, because the last half of the survey was a quiz on US politics of the the last four years, and let me tell you folks, it wasn't that easy.

I kind of liked it though; they even gave the answers at the end, and I got them all right.

Yes!

Show Me the Data

And while we're talking about measurable objectives... Why do we do a whole school science fair again?

Measuring Up

This is what bureaucracy looks like:

Every year we plan a sixth grade picnic for the first Friday we are back in school. In the interest of building a sense of community and engagement, it's a chance for the new kids in the school to celebrate making it through their first week of middle school and to connect and reconnect with their peers.

This year we have been asked to phrase all of our team business in the form of objectives and measurable outcomes... so what about the picnic? How does one compute the value of such an event? Do we administer a survey? Collect exit cards at the end? Have the students complete a reflection?

Would any of those make the picnic better, or would they simply justify it to any who cared?