Dawn to Dusk

When you have a puppy your day starts early, and so it was that I had baked 3 loaves of banana bread and a dozen and a half sweet potato muffins, packed all the recycling, watered the plants, paid the bills, and straightened the downstairs all before 8:30 this morning. Still, there were farmers markets to walk to, gardens to weed, errands to run, pedicures to be had, and meals to cook.

And so right now? The puppy is sleeping.

And I wish I were, too.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Windows open,
dogs barking,
birds singing,
breeze blowing,
sun shining.

Sold Out

I was a little concerned about sending the information for our end-of-the-year activities out with less than three weeks to go. So often over the last 25 years I have found myself counting pennies and making phone calls the night before a trip just to be sure that everyone was included.

But this year our team decided to give the students a choice of activities, one on campus and one off. The field trip was a repeat of last year's selfie scavenger hunt and IMAX movie, and based on an interest survey, I booked one 55 passenger coach. The rest of the students would get to enjoy some fun summer-camp style activities back at school.

"Space for the scavenger hunt is limited," I told the kids yesterday, "and it will be first-come-first-served, so if that's what you want, make sure you bring your money and signed permission slip as soon as you can to guarantee your spot." And with that, I turned my mind to fixing flawed test rosters and modified schedules.

I should have known something was different when a couple of kids waved twenties at me on my way in this morning. "I sent some kids away from your door," a colleague told me inside, "and told them to come back at 7:40." As soon as the bell rang, a line formed at my desk and out the door, and by 7:55? The trip was sold out. I had collected 1000 dollars in payment and scholarship donations.

By the end of the day, the bus company and IMAX theater were paid in full. I'm stunned and relieved, but my heart goes out to the kids who want to go and can't.

BUT... I'm working on it.

What? June!

That's what I wrote on my board this morning as my daily message to my homeroom students. On one level, it seems impossible that another school year will soon be over, and to be honest, I love my students this year. I will be sad to see each and every one of them move on to seventh grade.

There is a pent-up excitement in the kids, though, that they are hardly aware of, and that undercurrent of ridiculous, wild energy hums through the halls, spurting out in this or that impulsive behavior: neck-slapping, food-tossing, fidget spinning, dress-code challenging, giggles and whines.

And, oh, there is so much to accomplish in the three weeks we have left-- final assignments and high stakes tests, field days and field trips, all to be organized and supervised.

So, yeah.

June.

Both Sides Now

I was bummed this morning when I woke up to the persistent pattering of rain, and when I took Lucy for her morning walk, my carefully careless coif curled crazily. Later, driving to school in soggy sneakers and damp clothes, I passed my garden and relaxed a bit and stopped grumbling. At least the tomatoes were enjoying the weather.

The Money Quote

"You want give the subject of your profile the last word," I told my students. "End your piece with an inspiring quotation that really sums up the essence of that person." And to help them do so, I showed them examples and we imagined what questions the reporter had asked to get such a response.

Even so, we were looking at student work, which can be flawed, and when the words of a young basketball player flashed up on the screen one kid in the room grimaced and shook his head. "That's not very inspiring," he said.

"Well," I said, shrugging, "sometimes reporters have to work with what they get." I made eye contact with him and raised my eyebrows. "Not everyone is lucky enough to get someone who is well-spoken. We all have different strengths."

He nodded in understanding. When the lesson was over and it was time for them to follow up with their subjects to get that perfect ending, he walked over to me. "What advice do you have for people considering getting a puppy?" he asked, and I gave him my inspirational best.

"I really am lucky to have someone well-spoken!" he said.

Lesson taught; lesson learned.

Obsolete

We were driving past a family on their bikes this afternoon when Heidi asked me if I thought a certain student at our school could ride a bike. "No," I answered, "but there are lots of kids at school who can't ride bikes."

In Washington, D.C. there is a PE teacher who wrote a grant to teach a unit on bike riding to third graders, and in our district, third graders go to one of the high school pools to learn to swim. "I guess kids today don't learn the same things our parents taught us when we were young," I noted, before I thought better of it.

"I wonder if there was a time when people thought it was a shame that some kids couldn't ride horses," I mused. "Maybe they said things like, Can you believe so and so can't drive a carriage?" I laughed.

"And who knows what the future will bring," Heidi said, "Especially with self-driving cars on the horizon."

"Well," I shrugged, "I'm glad I can swim and ride a bike," I paused, "AND drive! Also? I wish I could ride a horse and drive a wagon."

"It's never too late, Babe," Heidi told me. "It's never too late."