Spring Run

Despite the fact that most cherry blossoms have been long gone these last two weeks, the unpredictability of nature had the Cherry Blossom Festival on the calendar for this weekend. Many, many tourists had booked their trips in advance, and as it was impossible to get anywhere near the Tidal Basin either yesterday or today, we redirected our dog walking to Roosevelt Island on Saturday and then Hains Point today.

To be kind, East Potomac Park is a real fixer-upper with plenty of potential and lots of location, location, location. That said, this place, which actually houses the National Capital Region Headquarters of the Park Service, is a dismaying mess of flooded and rotting sidewalks, flotsam-and-jetsam-littered green space, and breathtaking views. Even so, it is still a popular destination for city families and fisherman, and us, today.

We started our walk around the peninsula on the northern side across from the golf course club house. Sunshine, a nice breeze, and an unbeatable view of the waterfront across the Potomac Channel made it almost possible to ignore the trash and gaping holes in the walk way. Several folks greeted us as we walked, and as we went on, we noticed many people looking over the railing into the choppy water below. Pausing to see what all the fuss was, we were amazed by a ribbon of large silver fish swimming along the side. Hundreds flashed by in both directions on what seemed to be a super highway for fish.

"What are they?" a woman ahead of us asked a fisherman nearby.

"Herring," he told her. "They run every spring like this. They live in the ocean but return to the Potomac to spawn."

We watched in awe for more than a moment as an endless stream of Alewife and Blue River Herring darted below us, and as we continued around the point, it was impossible not to stop and check to see if they were still there.

They were, every time.

Unaccompanied Adult

There was a time, that doesn't seem that long ago, when we had seen all the latest kid movies, but these days it's increasingly rare. On my Oscar ballot this year, animated feature ranked right down there with foreign language and documentary feature as the category with the fewest movies I'd actually seen.

So when we asked our god-daughters what they wanted to do this weekend, I was really happy when seeing Zootopia was at the top of their list. And honestly? The Disney flick did not disappoint. Nor did the previews-- I'm definitely seeing Finding Dory when it opens in June, even if I don't have a kid to take me!

Tough All Over

Our sixth grade god-daughter is in town from New Jersey for the weekend, and she and I have spent the last few hours commiserating about school. "I use to like school before they made us get up so early!" she said.

"Tell me about it!" I answered.

"When we ask to go to the bathroom our math teacher always sighs and says, Is now really the best time?" she told me at dinner. 

"I know, but look at it from her point of view," I said. "A kid goes to the bathroom and then comes back and says, What are we doing? I was in the bathroom."

She laughed. "Well whose fault is that?" she admitted, and so we went on. 

And to be honest? It's been helpful and refreshing to hear the student side of the kind of sixth grade drama that seems to be fairly universal.

Slowhand

"So did you practice a lot of ukulele the last couple of weeks?" my instructor inquired this evening.

"Uh. No," I confessed. " I haven't even picked my ukulele up in at least a week."

"Busy, eh?" he shrugged. "What? Do you have a full time job or something?"

He laughed. I felt better.

"Why don't we do a little rockin' out?" he suggested. "This song has two chords and then it uses the blues scale."

I expected him to pull out some sheet music, but he didn't. Instead he demonstrated, bar by bar, and then had me try it. He was right-- it wasn't too hard.

"I'm going to play the chords," he said, "and you just go ahead and play the scales up and down, any way you want."

I did what he said: I listened to the music and just tried to keep up, jamming along. It sounded pretty good! And I was smiling a couple of minutes later when we stopped.

"That was a nice solo!" he told me, "Just like Clapton!"

I laughed as he pulled out the sheet music so that we could keep working on The Sunshine of Your Love. "This is so much fun, I don't think I'll practice next week either!"

More than Enough

In a week where consistent frustration at work has led me to question both human nature and our culture at large, a welcome commercial transaction today:

Shout out to chewy.com, a web-based pet supply company from whom I ordered several items a couple weeks ago! Most of the stuff was great, but a couple things just did not work for us. When I went online to return the too-small collar and tiny food bowl I was irritated at first that there was no simple return form. And so it was in foul humor that I clicked the "Chat Now" button.

A few minutes later I had copied and pasted the items and order number into the dialog window and was busy grading papers when  customer service replied to me.

We will refund you the full amount right away, but there is no need to return the items to us. We hope you will find an animal shelter or other organization who will give your items to animals who need them. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

For goodness' sake, no! 

What He Could Do

Today I gave my students a poetry challenge based on Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, Famous. After reading, I asked them to come up with their own examples of fame and also to tell what they wish to be famous for.

On the surface? We were reviewing what a stanza was, but I hoped for a little bit more, and I was not disappointed. Here's a great example:

The run down hut
is famous to it's family.

I want to be famous in the way a parent is,
to his children.
Not because he did something
out of the ordinary,
but because
he pushed on,
through fights and work,
still keeping responsibility
for his children's happiness,
and because,
he never
gave up.

~Anuj

Yo-yo

With exactly 20 days left in the April writing challenge and 20 days required to win a prize, I casually pulled out a big gun today. As my students checked their reading logs and reviewed for the word parts quiz I circulated through the room flicking my wrist to deploy and retrieve my blue Duncan butterfly. Here and there I let it sleep at the end of its string before calling it into the safety of my palm; a couple of times I flipped it around the world, and once or twice I even tried to walk the dog. For a brief moment I was back in sixth grade myself: it was 1973 and, just like all the other kids,  I had a classic yellow and red butterfly threaded around my finger.

"You have a yo-yo?" my students exclaimed.

"Oh yeah," I shrugged. "Don't you?"

"No!" they answered, followed by a chorus of Can I try it?

"You can if you win one in the writing challenge!" I said. "Let me remind you how it works..."

It's nice to know that I did actually learn something valuable in sixth grade! I wish the same for my students.