Looking Forward

A student waved at me on my way out of the building this afternoon.

"See you tomorrow!" I called.

"OK!" he answered. "But I can't wait until next week!" he added. "The field trip and everything? It's going to be great!"

"I agree with you!" I replied. "But I think the next week is going to be even better!" I winked.

He laughed. "Yeah, it is!"

You Got Me There

The upper 90s they were predicting inspired me to wear flip flops to school for the first time in a long time today. "Oh you had your toe nails done!" One student exclaimed, and although it was true, it made me a little cranky.

"How do you know I don't always have them done under my shoes and socks?" I asked her, eye brows raised.

She raised hers right back at me. "Do you?" she asked.

"No," I admitted, "but I could."

"No," she shook her head, "that's not really your style."

Drawback

I spent an hour or so at the garden this morning, weeding and watering and putting in a few annuals for bouquets later in the summer. When it was time to go, I happened to open the top bin of the little potting bench we keep in the corner, and a few wasps flew out. On closer examination, I noticed the beginnings of a paper nest, just five or six cells. It's inhabitants were as mad as the hornets they were, but luckily I avoided their wrath, smacking one of them through the air with my trusty shovel. I couldn't get in there to remove the nest, though, that chore is for another day soon when I am armed with something to subdue them first.

I did a little research when I got home, and it turns out that those five were probably the first generation. The queen starts a nest on her own, and then the offspring pitch in as they mature, growing their home exponentially. Luckily, I discovered their habitat early on, because lifting the lid on 125 or even 25 wasps could have been a way different story. Wasps are generally regarded as beneficial to gardeners, preying on insects that would gladly eat our crops, and I would consider keeping them around, too, if it weren't for that stinging thing.

So Close and yet So Far

After a busy morning of chores, errands, and working on grades, we took Cousin Elaine over to check out the National Harbor complex today. In the 12 years since she moved away, that site has grown considerably. Our main objective was to hit the outlet mall, but we stopped for a late lunch at the waterfront first. Seated outside, with a view of the water and right across from the farmers market, we relaxed and enjoyed people-watching along with our seafood.

Along with the tourists and strollers and shoppers and dogs, a light breeze wafted up the cobblestone way, and I took a deep breath. "Two weeks from today..." I started with a sigh.

"...we'll be out of school!" Heidi finished. We made eye contact across the table. "Hope we make it!" she said.

Making the Grade

A woman of about thirty walked into my classroom this afternoon. "Ms. S!" she cried. "Do you remember me?"

I was on the spot. It was the end of a long day and a longer week, and later I would find out it has been 17 years since she was in my class. Still... I didn't want to give up. There was something familiar in her face, a hint of the girl she had been so long ago in sixth grade. My brain practically creaked and groaned as I reached back.

"Is it something with a J?" I asked.

"Yes!" she clapped.

"Janet!" I said, and added her last name, too. And once I had recognized her, I went about proving I had remembered her all along, asking about her sister, brother, and mother by name.

She was pleased, but no more than I was. I know such a lapse of memory would easily be forgiven, but I still felt like I passed a very important test.

#afterthetest

On the day after a marathon 4+ hour testing session, my reading class was working on "evaluating a short memoir to determine the main events and create an illustrated chronology showing them" (aka the chicken chronicles timeline project) when a student asked if I would play some music while they worked.

"You bet!" I winked, and soon the Chicken Dance was blaring from my little bluetooth speaker. "C'mon you guys!" I encouraged them, until about half the class was snapping their hands, flapping their wings, and wiggling their butts to the music. And when it came to the slow polka part of the song, I locked my elbows with this student and that merrily skipping in circles while other kids did the same.

Oh, we had a good time, but not everyone was amused. One boy held his hand in his head. "The fourteenth reason why," he muttered with dark humor.

And then there was a knock on the door. "The office sent me," the messenger said in a hushed tone. "There are people testing in the room below you, and they said you are shaking the ceiling."

20th Century Skills

I heard recently that most VHS tapes will be unwatchable in the next 10-15 years. The technology that dominated home entertainment from the 1970's through the early part of this century and changed the way we consume TV and movies just wasn't designed to last. Which makes sense in a way-- VHS was the threshold of on demand viewing... if you can watch something anytime, availability stops being an issue.

This point was driven home to me the other day when, in a moment of down time, students watched the beginning of the movie National Treasure. Although at first they resisted a bit, when the bell rang 40 minutes into the film a collective groan filled the room. "What was the name of that again?" several students asked, interested in viewing the end.

One kid was particularly interested, and worried that he wouldn't be able to find and watch the end.

"I have a copy right here," I offered, raising a DVD. "Would you like to borrow it?"

"Oh," he shook his head in disappointment, "I don't know how to use a DVD player."