Say Hello to Friends You Know

My mom and I have the tradition of going grocery shopping one of the afternoons before Thanksgiving. She always makes soup for everyone the night before the big day, and since she travels from Minnesota, it takes one big grocery trip to get the supplies for her meal.

This year, Heidi joined us, and the excursion took on a whole new vibe as we ran into former students and/or their parents at seemingly every turn. When at last we had loaded eight bags of groceries into the back of the car, she hopped in smiling. "Well!" she said. "That was a productive trip!"

We thought so, too, but not in quite the same way.

On Deck

After being a no-cruise person for 53 years, I find myself becoming a frequent cruiser. We enjoyed our Alaskan adventure in August considerably, and I have to confess that I really liked the cruise ship part, too. After 7 days aboard, I was a little sad to disembark and leave my little home away from home, with its compact cabin and endless ocean view.

Now it turns out that we're going to celebrate Heidi's parents' 50th anniversary with a Bahamas cruise in February. They left the research and planning to me, and I booked the trip today-- on the sister ship to ours. In fact, our staterooms are right around the corner from the one we had in August. The cafe is up one deck, the restaurant down a few, and we know right where to find the gym, the pool, and the promenade deck.

A day in Nassau and another in Grand Stirrup Cay? That's just gravy!

Pinch Hitting

I woke up with an unexplained hankering for date-nut bread this morning. I have a fantastic recipe that veganizes easily with excellent results. I love its quirks, too: you pour boiling water over the dates, sugar, baking soda, salt, and butter (or in this case, coconut oil), then beat in the eggs (this morning it was pumpkin and chia seeds), before folding in the flour and walnuts, and dumping it into the pan to bake for about an hour. It's quick, fun, and delicious.

I don't really need the recipe card because I've made it so often, but I always take it down from its place on the side of the refrigerator because my cousin Sandy gave it to me, and it is written in her own hand. It's been almost 16 years since she passed away, but seeing her writing and making that bread still gives me a warm feeling of connection.

In fact, Sandy used to bring her date-nut bread every Thanksgiving, along with some cream cheese to spread on it, and we ate it for breakfast the whole holiday week.

I guess that explains the hankering.

Whoop Dee Doo

All new brakes and four new tires, too?

Ouch!

BUT, it rides almost like new, AND it was 1/20 the price.

Giant Steps

I read today that it was less than 65 years from the Wright brothers' first flight to landing a man on the moon. It's an amazing achievement, but a little less so, perhaps, when you spend your days with children who were not even alive before iPhones, Facebook, and Barack Obama was in the Senate.

The culminating assignment of the first big unit in sixth grade English at our school is for students to write a letter to themselves in the future. After spending some time exploring the question Who am I? we move on to its twin, Who do I want to be?

The assignment is a chance for them to look over all the writing they've done since September: an introduction of themselves to peers, poems about the sensory details of their favorite season, other poems about an action that reveals something essential about them, the "Where I'm From" assignment where they collect concrete family details, and then publishing a motto and explaining why it is a credo for them. All of these are meant to help them as they compose a letter reminding the future them who they are now, who they hope they are then, and how they can stay true to both.

The kids love it! They really get into choosing how many years the letter must wait, their questions about the future are endless, and sealing all of their work into an envelope with a big DO NOT OPEN 'TIL... is the final thrill.

I read through quite a few drafts today, and, in general, the open-hearted hopefulness of them buoys my vision of the future. They remind me that, truly, anything can happen. Take for example the one little girl who wrote I hope you're in an acapella singing group and I wonder who your girlfriend will be.

Wow. Forty-two years ago, the sixth grade me would have been more waaaay likely to walk on the moon than to write such a thing, and yet here we are.

One Leg at a Time

The focus of my quarterly reading class is theme. Reading several mini-memoirs, the students work to uncover the answer to the question "How can we learn from the experiences of others?" To do that, they must first learn that the theme of a story is the universal truth about life that it reveals. It's a new concept to many sixth graders, but it's one they take to, although the idea of universal is a little tricky at first. Kids want to make the lesson case-specific.

So, to introduce the whole idea I start with what has got to be one of the strangest Dr. Seuss stories ever. What Was I Afraid Of? is buried in the back of the Sneetches collection, and I swear the 8-year-old me had nightmares about the creepy olive green pants and the weird nocturnal yellow bear-like protagonist wandering through the bizarre aqua night of the pages. It's one of his lesser-known works, though, and so most students approach it with fresh eyes and open mind.

I emphasize how odd it is, too, and that makes it engaging, as well. Anyway, for those who are unfamiliar, the title is a big hint as to the lesson of this story. It's basically that there's no need to fear unusual or different people.

Oh, we get to that eventually, but first I have students write their ideas on index cards and I share them anonymously with the class. As a group we talk about universality and text support, and in that way we find our way.

Those first attempts can be pretty amusing, though, and today we had a great one:

Have fun with pants!

Not on the Ballot

I always do a first quarter review with my students. It gives all of us a chance to look back and call the highs and lows of our class as we see 'em. One of the questions is always What do you want to learn second quarter? and although the answers vary, they are generally inside the box.

To write fiction is always a biggie, as is more independent reading time in class, and to a lesser extent more poetry, more cool words, and more grammar (!).

This year, though, there was sort of a write-in candidate near the end of the day. As the day went on, We want to learn to take care of our class hamster! started to appear on more and more review sheets.

"But we don't have a class hamster," I said.

"Exactly!" was the answer. "We should!"