Whining Allowed

Our dog had to have minor surgery yesterday. At 9 1/2 she had a few warts and cysts to be removed. While she was out, they cleaned her teeth, as well. In general, she is a very healthy pup, and when we picked her up, the vet tech assured us that everything went better than expected.

"She's going to be groggy for a day or two," the tech let us know, "and she may whine. That's normal. It's just her way of saying, Something happened to me, and I don't understand what."

And she did indeed quietly whimper and groan her way through the night and into this morning. We watched her closely to be sure she wasn't in any pain, but her protests seemed to match up with what they had told us. She just could not figure out what the heck had happened.

All day today, I've thought about the experience from our dog's point of view. How confusing it all must have been-- to be left in a strange place, then to feel so drowsy, to lose consciousness, to come to, again in an alien place full of odd smells, some of them coming from you, to be all woozy and wobbly. Then there is the lingering pain, even though it is managed with medication, there has to be some discomfort, and where did that even come from?

Yeah, you bet something happened to her! I think a little complaining is completely in order.

Bake Me a Cake

With all the activity at the SCOTUS today, rather than chew my nails waiting to hear how the justices reacted to the arguments, I decided to youtube an old favorite: The Puppy Episode of Ellen.

I remember the thrill of watching it when it originally aired nearly 15 years ago, and it was still as goofy and hilarious and heartwrenching today. Best line? For me, it was the same then as now: I mean, you never see a cake that says Good for you! You're gay!

A lot of progress has been made in the past fifteen years, but I mean, you still don't see those cakes.

A Perfect Day for Nesting

We had the biggest snowfall of the season overnight. Awaking to two or three inches of snow blanketing the rooftops and flocking the trees, I wasn't even disappointed that such a day came when we were already out of school. It was too pretty.

As the day progressed and things warmed up a bit, it was more of a slush storm and not nearly as charming. We ran a bunch of errands and roads and stores were practically empty. It seemed like most folks preferred to sigh at this grey day from inside. Who could blame them really? It wasn't a fit day for man or beast.

That's why I couldn't get upset when I went over to the sliding glass doors a little while ago to see what the dog was fussing about. A squirrel had found my stash of pine straw. I collected it several weeks ago to mulch my strawberry plants later in the spring-- the extra layer should keep the fruit from rotting on the ground-- and placed the bags in the back corner of my deck to keep them from the elements.

The squirrel had other plans, though. I watched her fearlessly gather tiny fistfuls of the dry needles and stuff them into her mouth, mere inches from my dog's nose pressed up against the glass. Then she scrambled twenty feet to a junction formed by several branches at the top of nearby white pine, where I could clearly see her using it to insulate her growing nest.

I could have let the dog out or chased her away myself, but I didn't. I had to congratulate her on finding such a convenient supply of dry building material on a day like this, a day when she needed that pine straw much more than I do.

The Fun Will Come Out Tomorrow

Today was definitely more eventful than yesterday. We kicked off the morning with an epic toilet overflow (in the other bathroom) along with all the attendant bleaching and nasty laundry, and continued on to attic reorganization, fluorescent tube replacement, and a litany of little things that should have been done months, if not years, ago.

Do I feel a sense of accomplishment? Sort of, although it's kind of a bummer to look at the water stains on the ceiling. In addition to all that, the seeds are started are sprouting and I finished the NY Times Sunday Crossword. AND?

We still have plenty of break to go.

Bet Your Bottom Dollar

I was stuck in the house all day today while the workers finished up on our bathroom renovation. Any other Saturday I might have welcomed the excuse to take it easy, whittle down the ever-growing magazine collection, watch a little TV, but today is the first day of spring break and so the enforced down time seemed like kind of waste. Truthfully, I was bored.

Fortunately, there are eight days left. Tomorrow? I'm going to do some fun stuff!

Ideally

As a writing teacher, I've found that for most writing assignments, there are three types of student products. There are the kids that totally get the task and usually write something super-creative and often outside the box. Their work is fun to read and easy to assess.

Then, there are kids who, for a variety of reasons, choose to meet the specified requirements as best they can, nothing more, and sometimes quite a bit less. Those often formulaic pieces can make you seriously question the rubric, if not your career choice.

And then there are some kids who approach the assignment earnestly and so end up composing something that expresses a heartfelt truth for them. No matter the initial technical quality, that writing is a delight to read and a pleasure to help revise, because the student authors care so much about it.

Is it unrealistic to work toward a class where drudgery is banned and the middle group is null? I hope not.

Attitude of Gratitude

One of the teachers on my team is retiring as of April 1, so today was her appreciation party. As the English teacher, I had all of the students write notes of thanks which we placed in a nice little album. The kids did a really nice job-- their cards were genuinely sweet and poignant.

The activity made me remember an interview I'd heard on the radio several years ago. It was with John Kralik, a man who, in his early fifties was overworked and overweight and facing his second divorce and a faltering law practice. Unsure as to how he could even move forward, he took a solitary hike on New Years Day, and after getting lost in the mountains heard a voice tell him that until he appreciated what he had, he would never get what he wanted.

He also remembered his grandfather who gave his grandchildren silver dollars with the promise that if they wrote a thank-you note, he would give them another. His grandfather's lesson was that expressing thanks will pay off, sometimes literally. Considering all the obsolete stationery he had back at his soon-to-be-closed office, Kralik  decided to use it to write 365 thank-you notes, one a day for the next year. His book, 365 Thank Yous, chronicles how that year of appreciation changed his life.

At this point in the year, my students complete a series of writing challenges designed to encourage them to write and post their writing every day, or at least twice a week. As our first task, The Alphabiography Challenge, draws to a close, I plan to do a poetry challenge in April, for National Poetry month. But before then, we have Spring Break, and just enough time to do a mini-project.

And so, our Gratitude Challenge kicks off on March 27: it will consist of ten days of thank-you notes, at least 2 of which will be handwritten and mailed off. Today the students made lists of possible recipients, and it was gratifying to see how little trouble they had.