No Need to Thank Me

I read recently that the smell of flatulence is actually good for you. Evidently, hydrogen sulfide in small doses can protect the mitochondria in our cells, thereby preventing stroke, heart failure, diabetes, arthritis, dementia and other effects of aging.

So now when I toot a little (or a lot), I don't even say Excuse me.

Nope, I just tell Heidi that I am purifying our cells, one fart at a time.

Worry Never Helped

A former colleague stopped by school today to bid us all farewell before moving to Charleston, SC. Although her replacement is terrific, we miss her big smile and easy way with the kids already.

"So how's the year so far?" she asked, well aware of the challenges we are confronting with increased enrollment, new staff, and construction literally right outside our classrooms.

"Let me put it this way," I started. "Last year I made the decision not to even think about how things might be this year." I shrugged. "What could I change by worrying? I asked myself. Maybe it won't be so bad."

The other teachers and I who are still at the school shook our heads with woe, considering the trials we are facing in addition to actually teaching our students.

No parking, everyone stretched thin, new administration coming down hard on the kids, first year of departmentalizing special ed, flawed master schedule, and a brand new learning management system that nobody knows how to use.

"It's way worse than I ever could have imagined," I sighed. "Thank goodness I didn't worry too much.!"

Lord of the Whys

Why do we tell stories? I asked my class today as part of the personal narrative unit, and as they were discussing their ideas with another student one guy waved flagged me over.

"Can I tell him a story?" he asked, nodding at his partner.

"That's not exactly what we're doing," I told him, "but why do you want to?" I continued, drawing out the word.

"Because he told me one," he shrugged, "and now it's my turn."

"But you don't have to tell a story," I said.

"I know," he answered impatiently, "but I want to."

"But WHY do you want to?" I probed, eye brows raised. "That is the question."

"Oh," he said. "Because it's fun? Because I think he might like it? Because I will like telling it?" He paused. "Are you just going to ask me why, why, why, again?"

"Nope," I said. "Do you know why?"

Sleep Deprived

Why? Why? Why?

Our puppy was doing so well-- out of the crate at 4 months, recovering from spaying like a champ with no chewing licking or even whining about her little pillow of shame. So last night, after the stitches were out, and she finally had a chance to play with other dogs for the first time in 10 days, and she ate a healthy dinner and was neatly groomed, it didn't seem like such a stretch that she might sleep soundly through the night.

And yet...

Let's just say, if Lucy ain't sleepin, ain't nobody sleepin.

After a night of jumping and playing and chewing and tossing and rocking and rolling, today was a very long day.

And There She Was

"I forgot to give Emily these tomatoes," I complained to Heidi as I packed up to leave school today around 5. "I don't know if she's still here, but I wrote myself a note for tomorrow," I continued, stepping into the hall and closing my door behind me. A quick glance down the looooooong corridor to my right revealed a miraculous sight. "Emily!" we shouted. She turned around, and I ducked back into my room to grab her gift from the garden.

Happy ending!

Did He?

We talk a walk on the National Mall this morning, hoping to enjoy the beautiful weather and tire our puppy out. Our plan was to walk from the Capital to the Lincoln, reflection pool to reflection pool a distance of two miles, and back again.

As we neared the first reflection pool, all the ducks diving drew Lucy's attention, but I was more engaged by the brother and sister walking toward us. She perhaps eight and he around six were also fascinated by the animal life in the pool.

"I see a shark!" he cried and grabbed her elbow.

"They don't have sharks here!" she said crossly.

"Where are we, again?" he asked.

"Washington!" she told him. "The Capital?" she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the impressive edifice gleaming white against the amazing blue September sky.

"Well I saw a shark," he said.

Vegging

"Going for the exotic vegetables, are you?" the woman ahead of me in the grocery line asked as I unloaded my shopping basket. "What is that? Cassava? Jicama?" she guessed.

I laughed politely. "No, it's rutabaga," I shrugged, "actually pretty homespun."

"Well, I never eat rutabaga," she assured me. "Sweet potatoes? Yes. Carrots? Sure, lots of them."

"Better watch out," I warned her. "Rutabaga could be next... Those are definitely gateway vegetables!"