Haul of Fame

I'm afraid that for me, the annual announcement of who will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is becoming just another reminder of how time itself rocks and rolls on. The rule is that no act is eligible until 25 years after their first hit, so being able to personally recall that first hit makes me feel more than a little classic myself.

Take this year for example. Kiss will be inducted, years after their first eligibility I might add, Nirvana, too, but the first year they can. Then there's Linda Ronstadt, Cat Stevens, Peter Gabriel, and Hall and Oates.

Back when I was in middle school, Carefree gum sponsored a contest. The school who could collect the most gum wrappers would win a visit and concert by the new band Hall and Oates. Never a big fan of gum myself, I was more than willing to chew some for the team, and I also encouraged everyone I knew to buy and save those pink wrappers. My campaign extended to a visit to my cousins' house where I enthusiastically explained all the logistics and benefits of winning this competition. "Who's going to come if you win?" my aunt asked, "Hauling what?"

The Calendar is not the Day

This morning we gave out interim progress reports to our homeroom students. "Okay," I directed them, "open your assignment book and write down that you need to get these signed for tomorrow."

"Wait!" one student said in shock. "WHY does this page look sooooo weird?"

I went over to take a look. This week, as well as next was compressed. "I guess they're thinking lots of schools are on vacation all ready," I said. I flipped the page. It was printed as a normal week. "But don't worry, they also think we should come back on the 30th."

"No thanks," said my student, and squeezed the reminder into the tiny space he had.

Reformed Early Risers

It wasn't too long ago that our pets made it tough to sleep in on the weekends. Any activity outside was their signal that it was time for us to rise and feed them.

On the weekends, that's my job. I never sleep much past 7:30, and so I get up and let Heidi snooze. The me getting up part hasn't changed, but our pets have found a different groove lately. They are quite content to find the warm spot I have so recently vacated, snuffle once or twice, and go right back to sleep.

This Little Kitten

Last year about this time, I bought a pair of mittens that I fell in love with. The softest of faux sherpa on the inside, a nubby black exterior that made driving in them no problem at all, and they were soooo warm. I wore them all winter long and eagerly pulled them out last month when the first cold snap of this season hit.

But then... inexplicably they disappeared. I don't want to point any fingers (in mittens that's impossible anyway), but let's just say, it wasn't my fault. Oh, how we agonized over those lost mittens, well, okay, it was mostly me, because I can perseverate at times, but I really wanted them back. We looked everywhere, but without success, I'm afraid.

When the snow and ice hit earlier this week, I gave up on ever locating those stray mittens and went online to find another pair. It turned out that I couldn't order them, but I could have them delivered to our local Target. So that is what I did, and yesterday, on my home I made a detour to pick up my second pair of the best mittens in the world.

Even though it wasn't that cold, I gleefully slipped them on and enjoyed their perfect warmth and softness all the way home. As I likewise did this afternoon when we went out to run a few errands.

We had to go back to Target, where we got stuck in a kind of holiday undertow: every time I thought we were going to get out, we remembered something else and were sucked back into the deep part of the store. At last, when I could really see the shore and I felt confident we would make it to dry land before long, I reached into my vest pockets and felt my heart sink to my socks. I only had one mitten in there.

Oh, we retraced our steps, several times, and I left my name and number with customer service, but I think it's safe to say that tonight? I shall have no pie.

A Satisfied Customer

The Christmas gifts are coming fast and furious these days. My inbox is full of tracking numbers and packages are piled up on the dining room table almost quicker than we can open them. Just yesterday I eagerly sliced open a mailing envelope to find something I hadn't ordered. It was close, but it was... wrong.

I examined the packing slip and saw that this order had been placed by someone in Dallas. The number on the receipt indicated that she had ordered a few people after me, and the items were close enough to explain the mistake.

When I called the company they were super apologetic and promised to investigate immediately and get back to me ASAP. It was less than half an hour later when I received word that they were sending the correct shipment right away to both me and my Texas counterpart, and there was no need to return the others.

Such prompt and generous service seems rare these days, and so I want to acknowledge my appreciation. Thank you, Pure Home.

Everytime a Bell Rings

As I've mentioned before, the Tolerance Club at our school sponsors a movie each month. This December we're showing It's a Wonderful Life. It fits with our spotlighted IB learner profile trait, Caring, and it also reinforces our core concept that one person can make a huge positive impact on many lives.

On Monday, we had planned to show a clip to our student members and have them do the advertising for our show tomorrow, but that plan went awry with the inclement weather. (Not complaining!) So, it's been left up to us adult fogies to promote an old black and white movie and encourage a school full of tweens to show and hopefully grow.

It's usually my job to find the trailer that will play on the morning announcements, and so it was with more than a few sighs that I looked at what was available on the internet this afternoon. As a die-hard fan of the film, some of them were certainly sighs of appreciation and even anticipation to share this great movie with a new generation, but there were sighs of consternation as well. Most of the clips were much too anachronistic to draw our students in.

I was about to despair before I found this one:

(If you can't see the image click here. It's really worth it!)

The Wolf of Bedford Falls?

Oh. Yeah.

Private Word Parts

I handed out the weekly word parts to my class today. As is our routine, they received a chart with five Greek and/or Latin word parts, a definition, and an example word. Their job is to look up the exemplar, figure out how the word part definition works with it, and then find another example of their own.

The five word parts for this week were aqua, port, circum, geo, and narr. Soon after receiving it a student approached my desk, his face cloaked in concerned confidentiality.

"Can I use the word "circumcise" for my example?" he asked, sotto voce.

"I wouldn't," I answered him, honestly.

"I know what it means," he told me.

I nodded, but before I could reply, he continued.

"AND, I know how it fits the word part. Circum? Means "around," and cise means "cut"!"

"Very good," I said, and I meant it-- his response was a paragon of word study precepts-- "but imagine the conversations we'll have to have if you put that word on the board."

"I'm mature," he assured me. "I can handle it."

Not me! I inwardly cringed, and in the end we agreed that it could be his private example.