Sunday, November 6, 2016

Polishing Up the Rust Belt

We drove by some ginormous houses this morning on our way to brunch at a new, hipster restaurant I read about online. Buffalo, like so many rust-belt towns, has endured some very hard times over the last 40 years: mills and factories have shed thousands of what were formerly solid, blue collar jobs that allowed workers to comfortably support their families, and a majority of young people have moved away from the contracting economy.

Over the last few years, though, small signs of a tiny turn around have become more and more evident. Some tech start-ups, state grants funding a huge solar panel plant, a rise in reputation of SUNY Buffalo and a new medical corridor have reinvigorated the area in many small, but meaningful ways. The waterfront has been restored with restaurants, museums, bike and paddle boat concessions, and an open-air concert stage. Old mills are being converted to cool loft condos, and the traditional ethnic and comfort food that the town is rightfully known for, fish fry, wings, pierogies, char-broiled hot dogs, beef on weck, kielbasa, sponge candy, and handmade donuts has been joined by some micro-breweries, healthy fast-casual joints, and some new restaurants like the one we visited today with menus that can compete with some of the places near us at home.

Oh, the food was a little disappointing, but the place was still fun. On the way home, I used a real-estate app to price properties in real time as we rolled past them. How about a 7-bedroom, 3 1/2 bath, 4100 square foot Victorian with finished studio within walking distance of the zoo, Olmstead's Delaware Park, and Frank Lloyd Wright's Darwin-Martin House for 329,900.00?

Saturday, November 5, 2016

A Grain of Salt

We were on our first Wegmans run of the Buffalo weekend when an older gentleman in a motorized cart rolled up. "Excuse me ladies," he said, "I'm hoping you can help me."

"Of course," I replied, and prepared to reach an item from the upper shelf behind him, I was surprised when he continued.

"My daughter gave me a pot of chicken chowder," he made a circle with his hands. "Her neighbor was nice enough to make it for me, but it's so bland..."

I nodded sympathetically.

"She is a chef!" My mother-in-law pointed at me. "This is your lucky day!"

He nodded, unimpressed. "I added pepper to it," he said, "but it didn't help. And," he paused before delivering the kicker, "I'm on dialysis, so I can't have salt."

The mystery of the bland soup was suddenly much easier to understand.

"The soup part is like water, so I was thinking of adding bouillon or canned chicken broth," he said. "Would that fix it?"

"Those both have a lot of salt," I told him, considering a variety of solutions-- herbs, lemon juice, Parmesan cheese, and trying to figure out the best match for him. "Maybe you could strain out all the chicken and vegetables and cook the broth down until it's more concentrated and flavorful. Then add the other stuff back in."

He frowned. "Would I have to cook canned chicken broth?"

"No," I shrugged. "It's ready to heat and eat."

 "Thank you," he said politely, and then giving us a courtly nod, rolled away down the aisle toward the canned soup.

Friday, November 4, 2016

Best of Three

A pair of sisters, former students both, appeared in my classroom this afternoon. "Ms. S!" they cried. "How are you?"

It was good to see them, and I know my smile told them so.

"Guess what class I'm taking?" asked the older. "AP English!" she told me before I could guess.

"Nice!" I high-fived her. "You're going to crush it!"

"I have a 94!" she said proudly.

"I'm in intensified English," her younger sister boasted.

"All right!" I high-fived her, too.

"Do you miss us?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, of course," I answered, "but I do have your little sister to carry on the family tradition."

"Do you like her?" the younger girl asked.

"Oh my gosh! Yes!" I said. "I feel lucky to have had all three of you in my class!"

"Who's your favorite?" they wanted to know, but of course I didn't say.

Just earlier in the day, I had a funny exchange with their sister. Our reading classes change teachers every quarter, and so next week her group was moving on. "Oh, but you'll still have me for English," I told the class. "You're stuck with me for the rest of the year!"

"Good!" she said, "because I just want to put you in my backpack and take you to seventh grade with me! You are the best teacher ever!"

How could I pick a favorite from those three?

Thursday, November 3, 2016

I'll Be Glad When It's Over: Reason # 496

Maybe that unknown caller will stop ringing my watch every single weekday at 10:20 AM.

(If I weren't busy teaching, I could probably tell them I already voted!)

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Throwback Wednesday

We have had some network issues in our school system over the last couple of days which rendered the students' iPads practically useless. "What are we going to do today?" my first period class came in excitedly moaning. "We can't use our iPads!"

"Sit down, kids," I said, "I want to tell you a story..."

They settled expectantly in their seats.

"Long ago," I started, "people used to grind up trees and press the pulp flat into this thing called paper! Today we are going to use that."

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

There to Here and Here to There

"What are you doing here?" a student asked me a couple of weeks ago when  he saw me at a store.

"I'm shopping!" I told him.

"What are you doing here?" the same student asked when he saw me in another part of the school.

"I'm meeting with other English teachers!" I told him.

"What are you doing here?" the same kid asked me as I walked down to the bike share station.

"I'm going for a bike ride!" I told him.

"What?" the same guy did a double take when he saw me outside the school office a while later. "You're everywhere!"

"So are you!" I told him.

Monday, October 31, 2016

Don't Leave Home Without It

I've learned that taking a break and getting outside during the school day will usually improve my productivity, and so today, when I finally completed setting up my account for the free bike share membership they are giving school employees this year, my brain break involved hiking up to the nearest metro stop, picking up my key, grabbing a bike, and riding on back to school where I dropped it off at the rec center bike station.

Round trip? 45 minutes.

Clearer head? Priceless.