Pour Timing

Wouldn't ya know that the minute I was ready to start the grill for dinner this evening we were hit with a heavy rain. Not to worry, though, I just moved the barbecue to the breezeway and continued from there, ducking in and out of the storm to check the coals.

A little while later, veggies and steak sizzled, rain drops slapped the pavement, and a cool wet breeze tempered the warm moist air; the world smelled like dirt and everything growing was so green, green, green.

Hello, Summer. It's good to see you again.

Throwback Thursday

It's hard to believe that it's been eight years since the Nintendo Wii was all the rage. Back then, people were camping out overnight in parking lots based on the rumor that a shipment might arrive the next day, and consoles were selling on eBay for double the retail price. We felt lucky to get ours when we did, and our older nephews got quite a bit of playing time on it.

We invested in a bunch of games and accessories, too, including the balance board for "Wii Fit." That nifty little platform could sense your motion and give you a little fitness check as well. For a while we were skiing and hula hooping, bowling and playing tennis all the time. It wasn't quite the virtual gym it promised, but it was fun.

Our Wii hadn't been powered on for almost two years yesterday when I decided that maybe a little rhythm boxing would be better than slumping tiredly in the chair. The batteries on the balance board were corroded, though, and it became quite the little maintenance and repair project to get the system up and running. But I did it, and it was nice to see my old Mii after so long. She looked like she was having a good time, too, as we boxed and bowled 30 minutes away.

And it was indeed waaay better than sitting in the chair.

Clueless

Today, for Spirit Week, was Throwback Thursday. Students were invited to dress as any past persona of themselves or from some earlier decade. 7:30 a.m. found three sixth graders at my classroom door.

"Can you guess what I am?" one of them asked.

I looked at her Rapunzel t-shirt and denim skirt, and scratched my head. "Um, the 90s?" I guessed.

"No!" I'm my kindergarten self! I loved Rapunzel then!"

"Oh," I said. "Well, then, that's a great outfit!"

"How about me?" one of her friends asked. She was wearing a hair band tied in a bow, leggings, and a long cardigan.

"Easy!" I answered. "You're the 80s."

Her face fell. Her friend tried to help me out. "Look at her hair... she's the 60s," she shrugged, "or 50s."

Not so much, I thought to myself, but who am I to judge?

"What about me?" the third girl inquired, sweeping her arm dramatically down her buttoned wool jacket, pleated skirt, black stockings, and sensible shoes, then giving me a sharp little salute from the brim of her fedora.

"The... 30s or 40s?" I said.

"Perhaps this will help," she said briskly and pulled out a black umbrella and opened it over her head.

"Mmmm," I stalled.

"I'm Mary Poppins!" she cried officiously, and now that she said so, I could totally see it.

"So you're the..."

"60s!" she told me.

"But," I said, "Mary Poppins–"

"Came out in the 60s," she finished. "I should know. It's one of my favorite movies."

"But the story takes place in the early 1900s, I think," I said.

She waved her hand. It was clear to everyone that I was not good at this. Fortunately, the bell rang right then.

"You all look great!" I said, shooing them out the door. "Have a fun day!"

That's the Spirit

It's spirit week at school, and so each day has a theme that students are encouraged to dress for. Monday was Pajama Day, Tuesday Twin Day, and today was Character Day, when kids could come dressed as their favorite person from a book, movie, TV, etc. Participation, especially in sixth grade, is always a bit spotty– mostly because people forget, as I confess I do often. Like today, when one of the girls in my homeroom came in dressed in pink, wearing a small knapsack and carrying a chicken hand puppet.

"Put your backpack in your locker before the bell," I advised her.

"I need it," she told me. "I'm Dora the Explorer."

I took a closer look. I couldn't see it, but who am I to criticize someone's creative vision? "What's with the chicken?" I asked, for clarification.

"It's Perrito," she answered. "I don't have a dog puppet."

"If you say so," I replied, "but remember, Dora is very well-behaved and always respectful. Right?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Noooo," she said, with a hint of a sneer.

"I think she's Ghetto Dora!" another student explained.

E-I-E-I-O!

We read an article in class today that happened to cite a guy named MacDonald. That's all it took for one of the kids to become completely obsessed– he sang and hummed Old MacDonald Had a Farm for the rest of the class period. Despite many requests from me and the other students for him to Stop! Please stop! he just couldn't get rid of the ear bug.

Towards the end of class, he did quiet down a little, although his fingers were drumming at quite a pace on the table as he read.

"Are you okay?" I asked, looking meaningfully at his busy little digits.

"Oh yeah," he shrugged, "that's just Old MacDonald, the Remix."

Glows and Grows

Oh how satisfying it is when former students return from high school to tell you how much they appreciated your class!

And then write cuss words on your whiteboard because they think it's so hilariously naughty.

Surely they will have better things to do soon.

Stymied

When the handle broke off the top of my grill last fall, I worked around it on the few occasions that I cooked out once the weather turned cold. But it soon became clear that the big, fire-proof gloves I have were simply too clumsy to use indefinitely.

Upon that realization, the first thing I did was search for a new top on eBay. I thought I was being clever, although the thought of that domed piece of steel heading for a landfill did give me pause. Not to worry, though, because it was impossible to find what I wanted out there in the internets... Maybe other folks have less of a compunction than I, or maybe those are just some long-lasting grills.

Next I researched some local welders, convinced that they might reattach that errant handle with a wee drop of soldering, but the job seemed to small for me to bother them with once I got a sense of their mighty pricing.

I'm not sure when it occurred to me that a drill, a couple of screws and some wing nuts would solve my problem, but when it did? I made that repair myself in under 15 minutes for a dollar.