Making the Hard Decisions

As I mentioned previously, my kitchen window has stayed open since early summer to provide us with a 6 X 30 connection with the world outside. Oh, I suppose if I was serious about my little nature portal I would have taken the screen out, too, but my commitment stopped short of letting bugs in.

31 degree air pouring in this morning made it a little nippy as I packed lunches, but I soldiered through despite my slightly stiff fingers on the knowledge that when the sun came out? It would get up to 49.

Maybe I was in a bit of denial; truly I like the window open.

Our house cleaner has a bit of a different sensibility. Over the 8 years she's been cleaning our house on Mondays, we've gotten a few subtle and not so subtle hints about the way she thinks things should be. For example, after she's been here, we can tell that the coffee table should be much closer to the couch, the dog's toy box should be closed, the cleaning supplies belong upstairs, the bath mat should go on the towel rack, and the tooth brushes? To the right of the sink, please.

Oh. And the kitchen window should be closed in cold weather.

Sigh.

Bossy

Read the Paris Review.

I mean it.

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.