In and Out

Garden? 

It's in.

Home-canned tomatoes?

We're out.

Hopefully?

We'll get a few more quarts this year.

Collective

We had an all school assembly first thing yesterday when the band, orchestra, and chorus performed their annual spring concert. Monday morning found the students bleary and subdued, which might just be the optimal middle school audience mode. 

There was only a low buzz as we waited for the program to begin, and from my vantage point, stage right in the second tier standing against the wall, I could see all 800 of us-- students past and present, colleagues new and old-- for the moment all in one place, and my heart swelled just a bit to be part of such a thing.

Seedfolk

As part of a school-wide activity centered around the wonderful garden we have and the novel Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman, my homeroom planted their own little "crops" a few weeks ago. In tiny 1 x 1 starter cells, each student had the choice of corn, beans, pumpkins, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, or sunflowers. I explained in advance that some plants germinate sooner than others and that we would transplant to larger pots as needed. I also told them, quite clearly, that I was planting beans because they grow the fastest, but mine was the lone bean in the plot.

I knew this from back when I, too, was in middle school. Then, for some science project or another, my mother showed us how to grow beans in a mason jar by simply wadding up a damp paper towel and sprinkling beans liberally in the folds. In a couple of weeks? We had a plant to rival any sweet potato or avocado pit skewered with toothpicks and submerged in its own jar.

This year, in my classroom, the sunflowers poked their spring green sprouts up in just a couple of days, but they were soon followed by the pumpkins. "Be patient," I advised the other students, "your seeds will grow." The cucumbers and corn were next, but my bean was not far behind.

By the time the tomatoes made their appearance, the early sprouters needed larger pots. The pepper farmers were getting a little discouraged, so I brought in my warming mat to encourage their seeds to join the party. Fortunately they have, and so our springfest can begin in earnest.

The other students are just as fascinated by our plants as we are. They wander over to the window in spare moments to check on them. "What is that huge one?!?" someone demanded today.

"It's a bean," I told him.

"It's the best one!" he said. "Who planted it?"

"Me," I answered, and perhaps there was just a trace of self-satisfaction in my tone, because he raised his eye brows at me suspiciously.

"Don't the other ones get any fertilizer?" he asked.

10 (Middle-aged) Woman-hours Later...

The garden is in for the season!

We Should All Be So Unlucky

We were discussing food and cooking at lunch the other day, and I mentioned my recent trip to the high-end grocery in our area. "It was sooooooo frustrating," I whined. "They didn't have anything I wanted!"

My lunch buddies were surprised. "Like what?" they wondered.

I felt a little sheepish as I answered. "Well, okay, this is definitely a first world problem... but there was absolutely no arugula!"

My friends gasped in mock horror.

"AND, I think they are discontinuing my favorite kind of kimchi!" I continued. "Plus, they were out of the IPA I like," I laughed as I finished. "Fortunately I was able to score some awesome mango-habanero cheddar."

Friday Night Pizza is Back

I got me a great new pizza dough recipe-- quick to make, easy to handle, and delicious-- it seems to be just what I have been searching for for years.

Click here to see for yourself.

Pick a Poet

My guest poet friend made his annual visit to my classes today. After six years, one of the things I enjoy most about his visits is how unfettered he is by the pedestrian practicalities of running a classroom. For example, he is free to change the activities for each class, and he always does. "I get soooooo bored doing the same thing over and over," he points out every year. Tell me about it.

His tolerance for "creative" chaos is also much higher than mine, but that's okay, because watching from the sidelines and seeing how my students react in a less structured environment is usually either a revelation or a validation for me. 

I like the surprises best, though, and he can often turn a kid from silly or surly to successful by the end of the session. And some kids surprise me every year with their wit, their whimsy, their originality, and their invention. True story-- just yesterday, I struggled to think of a strength for a boy who knocked it out of the park today. 

I also get a chance to improvise and write along, not as the leader, or even the coach, but as a fellow player on his stage. Here's my favorite composition from the day:

Saying Good-Bye in Five Acts:

I. Her suitcase closed with a snap.

II. A bright light streaked across the sky.

III. Splash!

IV. Thanks for all the fish.

V. "As I was remarking the other day to Heywood..."