While it Lasts

One day over our snowcation last week, Heidi and I went to a mall that is a little farther than we usually venture outside of town. There was still a lot of snow on the ground, and we took advantage of the fact that we needed to make a return to walk around the mall and get some extra steps in. "Let's explore every corner of Tysons!" I said, because even though it was opened in 1968, it has been renovated and expanded several times in the last 47 years.

Back when I was a kid, Tysons Corner was considered the newest and coolest place to shop. My glamorous cousin, Sandy, was a buyer for Woodward and Lothrop, and she she was based out of their flagship store that anchored the mall. When we were in town visiting, one afternoon was always set aside to meet Sandy somewhere fun for lunch. She would glide in elegantly and then sit right down and dig in to pizza or burgers with us.

I'd forgotten those days until we turned down a little dogleg into a section of the mall I haven't been to in a loooooong time. As we swooped past Saks and made a U-turn to return to the main shopping area, I skidded to a stop and gasped. "That pizza place!" I pointed. "We met Sandy there for lunch!" I stood and stared for a moment, thinking back to a Tysons Corner that no longer exists. Where was the Farrell's Old-Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor? Woodys? Hechts? Woolworths? The Hot Shoppe?

"I can't believe that place is still open!" I said with a lingering look over my shoulder as we continued on our way.

Less than a week later, I read the following bulletin on my foodie news feed:

Luciano Italian Pizza Has Closed in Tysons Corner. After 42+ years serving our friends and family at this location we had reached the end of our leasing agreement. We cherish the many fond memories we have been a part of over the years.

On Me

The first Wednesday of the month in our school district is reserved for countywide content area meetings, and so over the years I have attended roughly 175 middle school language arts gatherings. In an honest attempt to make the time valuable for the teachers who are required to attend, the department has tried many formats, but personally, I have forgotten most of the meetings.

I think that may be inevitable, but not necessarily negative, perhaps, in the way that although I don't really remember my own sixth grade year I continue to confidently teach legions of sixth graders. I'm pretty sure that whether they recall the specifics or not, our time together is well-spent because what I try to instill in them before they leave me is a desire to learn, the belief that they can, and a skill set they may use to do so.

Do our countywide meetings do the same for us? Not always, but today mine did. I attended a presentation by a Teacher Consultant from our local chapter of the National Writing Project. He led us through a session where we wrote poetry, outlined an opinion essay, and learned how to guide our students to collaborate to create standards-based rubrics that they can use to assess their own writing. It was awesome!

Ten years ago, I attended the Writing Project five-week summer institute, and it revitalized and refocused my teaching practice dramatically. My take away today? I need another such re-energizing experience.

Oh, and here's the zero draft of my poem, written in the style of Kwame Alexander in Crossover:

With my knees in the dirt

         WEEDING and SEEDing

                     mulching and feeding

                                       

Bees BUZZ and worms w        e

                                         i     l

                                          g g

                                           

Shoots !   green and grOW

            T

            U

            O

            R

            P

            S

SUN shines on long V      I      N     E      S

Fertilizing flowers to fruit

O! How my garden grows

Please, Sir, I Want Some More

It is part of our daily routine in homeroom to stamp reading logs in order to ensure that students are filling them out daily even though they are due weekly. So, at the end of November I bought a blue ink pad to go with my snowflake stamp.  "We're going to use this every day until we have a snow day," I declared.

"What if we never have one?" somebody asked.

"Then I'll be stamping blue snowflakes in June!" I answered.

This morning on our first day back after the eleven day blizzard break,  I held up the box with all the stamps in it. "What'll it be?" I asked. "Those snowflakes were pretty effective! Want some more?"

Ten students looked at me silently. I couldn't tell if they were tired or snow-shocked. "I'll tell you what," I said. "Why don't you choose? When I come around you can pick a snowflake or a yellow jacket, our school mascot."

It was snowflakes all around, friends.

Target Audience

A colleague brought her fifth grade daughter to school for our teacher work day this morning. (That's right-- after six snow days in a row, we had our previously scheduled grade preparation day today. Don't be a hater.)

I have known this little girl all her life, but today we had a more wonderful time than usual, chatting at lunch about books, and the blizzard, and her classmates who would be coming to our school next year.

We had just finished a hilarious round of I'm going on a picnic when her mom finally stood up. "C'mon," she said. "I have work to do next door."

"But I want to stay here!" her daughter replied.

"Oh don't worry!" I laughed, "we can spend lots of time together next year!"

Hmmm.

I guess I did miss those kids after all.

Thank goodness they'll be back tomorrow.

All Good

Today was one of my favorite days of the year:

We had our annual appointment with Bill and Emily to see the Oscar-nominated live action and animated shorts, 10 films of thirty minutes or less that ordinarily do not get a lot of commercial theater play. Each one was a well-constructed little treasure: funny, heart-wrenching, and thought provoking, but we were generally in agreement with the review that was headlined Live-action misery, animated joy.

Following that double feature we scored a prime parking place and made our way through the unseasonably mild evening down a cobblestone path vaulted by strings of white lights and giant illuminated snowflakes. Leftover piles of real snow lined our path down the stairs, past the skating rink, and on to dinner at one of our favorite places on the Georgetown waterfront.

It was a perfect way to end our second winter vacation.

Waste Not

"Don't throw them away!" I said to Heidi last Saturday afternoon. I was referring to the three pastry bags with leftover buttercream from the mini birthday cupcakes we had just frosted. 

"When will we use them?" she asked with mild exasperation. "Better yet, where will we put them? You know the fridge is full."

"The whole world is a refrigerator," I answered with a sweeping gesture at the blizzard outside. "And you never know when we might need cupcakes again."

She shrugged and humored me, fastening each bag securely into its own ziplock, placing them in another plastic bag and hanging it from the door handle on the deck where it stayed well below 40 degrees all week.

"What are we going to bring to Ruth's tomorrow night?" Heidi asked me yesterday. We were invited for dinner and game night. 

"How about... mini-cupcakes?" I suggested.

She nodded. "Good one!"

The Wind from my Sails

I took advantage of our sixth day off from school and cooked up a storm yesterday. Besides french toast and vegan Greek skillet pies, I made two of Josh's favorites, cream of broccoli soup and braised pork shoulder with bbq sauce. Appropriately appreciative and still trying to put on some of the pounds he lost while in the hospital, he ate huge portions of both dishes. I went to bed secure in the notion that I had significantly contributed to his recovery.

You can imagine how alarmed I was to find him at 7:30 am this morning on the couch wrapped in a blanket and looking pitiful. "I threw up all night," he told me. "I think it was the pork and the soup."