Miracle Grow

Oh how happy and proud I was today to share a dozen of my grown-from-seed tomato plants with a few colleagues who expressed interest. Our garden is nearly full, and so all the spares I had got to go to other good gardens.

My hopes are high!

Role Model

"Is there writing club today?" Madeline came by to ask this morning.

"No. We had it last week," I told her. "It's only twice a month."

"But..." she was speechless for a rare moment. "Can we please have it again this week?"

Madeline is a great kid, and I can tell the end of middle school weighs heavily on her. I knew I'd be there after school. "Well, okay... if you can get at least five other kids, it's a go." I gave her the thumbs up.

"Yes!" she replied. "I know I can do that!" And off she went to round up her fellow writers.

With wide eyes, the sixth graders in my homeroom watched her disappear through the doorway and then looked at me; they were clearly a little surprised at the passion (for writing! of all things) that they had just witnessed.

But all the better for it, I think.

Big Fish

How fitting that when we called the restaurant to order a gift certificate for Heidi's dad that they told us he had just left. Happy Birthday, Gar! Enjoy the next few fish fries on us!

Bon Mot

I have a student this year who is super intelligent and very hard-working. She is in all the advanced classes we offer at sixth grade and has been on the honor roll every quarter. And yet, I know from working with her, that there are some gaps and glitches in how her brain works.

For example, she is a native English speaker but she often must grasp for even common words in both speaking and writing. The way she asks is very round-about, too. "What do they call that thing?" is how she usually starts, and then she laughs, sheepishly acknowledging her vagueness.

Today she asked that question twice as she composed a quick 150 word personal narrative. The first time she described a "glass box for snakes or turtles."

"An aquarium?" I tried, but she looked doubtful. "A tank?"

"Yes!" She went back to writing.

A little while later, she asked about an object that "You use it when you're, y'know, and it looks like this..." Here she paused and drew a quick sketch of a rectangular shape with what might have been a handle. "The floor..." She trailed off, but one of her classmates came to her rescue.

"A dust pan?"

"Yes!" she said.

At the end of the lesson she volunteered to read her piece, and it was a really, really good story about how she and her mom and sisters rescued a bird from their cat (using a dust pan) and then nursed it (in an aquarium), until one day it was able to fly away on its own.

I did have to laugh a little at how it started, though: We were cleaning the house, and my mom was brooming.

Off-duty

My mom's in town for my nephew's graduation and after visiting Monticello on Saturday, we decided to head down to Mount Vernon today.

How strange it was to be in a historic place on a beautiful Monday in May surrounded by school children on a field trip and yet responsible for none of them.

Not the girl shouting, "Look! Real sheep! I saw that one breathe!" Not the boy stuffing a whole cup of fountain soda in his pocket. Not the kids trying to huff the special effects fog in the movie, nor their class mates who caught the soap flake "snow" on their tongues, and definitely not the boy with the electronic transmitter on his ankle.

Is this what retirement will be like?

Exceptional

As a rule? I don't really like graduations. I've personally walked twice, in high school and then in college, but I've skipped the last two. Maybe it's my own feelings about change and transition or even my own feelings about pomp and ceremony, but either way, I don't like 'em.

BUT, when my nephew or niece should call, nothing seems out of the question, and so when the first member of our next generation graduated (Phi Beta Kappa, with highest honors) from UVa, I was right there.

And, oh what a spectacle it was! Over 4,000 grads and perhaps 10,000 spectators gathered on an emerald lawn under a deep blue sky this morning. Sunny, 70 degrees, and no shortage of balloons, this ceremony was marked by the obvious affection that the elders in attendance-- president, professors, parents, and other supporters-- had for these graduates.

On such a day, it was impossible to find fault in anything, and so I didn't.

You Don't Say

It's not that I don't learn new things every day--  as an educator, especially, I delight in those daily discoveries. Whether it's the unfolding of a news story or seeing a side of a student I never imagined,  I know that liife is full of new information and insights. 

It is rare, though, that my mind is blown by what I learn; usually it's more of an aha or even an oh right moment. That's why my jaw dropped in stunned silence today when I heard that ABBA's hit Dancin Queen was actually written for the current queen of Sweden on the occasion of her marriage to the king. What?!  

I know the band, and I know the song (who doesn't?),  but even after hearing it hundreds of times in the last 38 years,  I had no idea about its back story. 

That surprised me.