Case in Point

Every teacher has been taught not to scold the whole group for the transgressions of some of its members. It's not fair and it's not effective. Ohhhh, but sometimes it's so hard not to do. Sometimes it seems like almost every single kid is conspiring to turn your lesson plan upside down, and then it seems like nothing would be so satisfying as to give them a sharp scolding culminating in the most epic guilt trip of their lives.

 I must confess that I know from experience that such venting can indeed be very gratifying in the few seconds it takes to deliver it, but ultimately, just as you have been warned, you lose credibility with your students, some because they were innocent of the charges you brought against the group, and some because they didn't buy into the requirements in the first place, and your outburst has not convinced them.

I was reminded of this fundamental principal of management today, as Heidi and I stood for 90 minutes at the final meeting of our community garden and were collectively reprimanded several times for things I knew we were not guilty of. I always turn off the water, lock the gate securely, keep my tools inside my garden, replace the common tools neatly in the shed (cleaned of course), show up for my scheduled work days, and mind the edges of my plot. By the end of the meeting, I was fuming, but Heidi seemed remarkably unaffected.

Later, when I was complaining about the experience to my mom and my brother, they were very sympathetic. "I hated that in school," my brother said. "I always knew I had done nothing wrong!"

My mom nodded.

"Not me," Heidi said. "Usually? I was the one they were talking to, and
I.
did.
not.
care."

Then she laughed wickedly and asked, "How did we get together, anyway?"

Endless Summer

Tomorrow is the closing day of the season at our community garden. That may be, but today? It was in the upper 70s and just Wednesday I picked a few more eggplant, tomatoes, and peppers from the hardy hearty plants in my plot.

No doubt there will be more to harvest tomorrow, which is certainly an added bonus to the longest weekend of the year.

The News from Isabel's House

Where everyone always wags their tails and no one ever has anything bad to say about the rest of the pack.

AND the beer is always cold.

AND there's always a vegan option on the menu.

A Little Early

Overheard through my open kitchen window:

Grandma: And this house has two pumpkins! Isn't that nice?

Toddler: Do they have candy, too?

Grandma: Maybe we'll find out tomorrow.

Educational Outings

What kid doesn't love the offer of a field trip? Whether or not said trip delivers on its promise, a day away from school is something to look forward to.

When I was a kid, a field trip meant a visit to the store to buy a couple of special items for my lunch. In addition to my usual sandwich and piece of fruit, on days when the school bus would whisk us away to a special destination, I could also pick out a Hostess cake or pie and a can of soda to take with me.

The soda was never my favorite, perhaps because my mom once read in a magazine or somewhere that freezing your canned beverage the night before and then wrapping it in foil would allow it to serve the double purpose of both drink and ice pak. A good theory, maybe, but I have distinct memories of steel cans bowed out on both ends and trying unsuccessfully to enjoy very messy sodas, both frozen and flat.

The dessert on the other hand was much more exciting. I usually chose a lunate cherry pie with shocking, almost blood-red filling so sweet it made my teeth hurt. I might have liked apple better, but their apple was not nearly as good as my mom's. (She didn't make cherry; if she had, those pink coconut cupcakes might have called my name.)

Tomorrow my team is going on a field trip to the corn maze, so today after finalizing the logistics of taking 107 kids to the country, I headed off to the grocery store where I bought a couple of special treats for my lunch tomorrow. Some things really needn't change.

Live From School...

I have written before about our new grade book where anything we put in there is instantly visible to parents. As with so much new technology (ahem, Obamacare) there was a predictable implementation curve. On conference day volunteers sat in a room just down the hall from mine ready to show parents how to access this new tool, and anecdotally, many of the folks I met with confessed and complained to having problems with accessing their children's grades.

I think that all that static might be on the decline now, though, for today when I posted the results of my students' weekly word study quiz it was only a matter of moments before my email pinged. I see L. bombed today's quiz... the message started.

Sabbath Day

When I was a child, Sundays were devoted to mass and football. For years, both were mysterious rituals to me, full of singing and sighing and chanting and cheering. I probably developed an understanding of the church before I grasped the rules of football, but there was a time in my life when I was an enthusiastic devotee of both.

That time is not this, and I have written here before about how much I enjoy taking advantage of the off times created by other people in this congested area and their Sunday traditions. Runing errands in the morning or at game time is a snap around here. Church is another post altogether.

The last 3 Sundays, though? Our houseguest has tuned in to her beloved hometown team, and I confess I have been drawn back into the fold. Just today I spent my afternoon in the rocking chair eating cheese and crackers, chips and dip, and rooting for one team to fail so that another might have an advantage, never mind their hateful name.

Could mass be far behind?