Every Day Another Story

"I really like reading your blog," my aunt told me today. "I like knowing what's going on, but I really like the stories about the kids."

She spent her career in education and retired from a middle school, and so I especially valued her appreciation.

"You know it's been so long since I retired," she continued, "that I forget how nutty they can be sometimes."

"Sometimes?" I replied. "You have been retired a while!"

Sorry, Wrong Number

It was just last night in writing group that Mary and I were griping about the parking situation at our school since they built in elementary school in the former parking lot. Now we have assigned spaces in the underground garage beneath the school, but there aren't enough for everyone, and there is no visitor parking, either. Ellen and Leah were appropriately appalled, even though we had to admit it hadn't been much of a problem. "But it could be!" we agreed.

And not 10 hours later when I sleepily pulled into the garage and rounded the pillars to my assigned spot, it was. Another car was there, and although there were several open spaces, I knew that taking one could set off a chain reaction. Fortunately? I remembered that Mary was out today, and she had mentioned her space number in the conversation that night before.

Once I was safely parked in 243, I went over to my assigned place, 231. The car there had an official hangtag, but the number? Was 234. Three spots to the right, and next to a column, just like mine.

231, 234, 243-- aye yi yi! What an unnecessarily stressful way to start my Friday.

No Resolution

Every time we teach the fiction unit, I vow to write something along with the students. After all, we make it seem so easy-- just create a character, figure out what he or she wants, throw some obstacles in the way, identify the turning point when something essential changes that allows that conflict to be resolved, and wrap.it.up!

And to be completely honest, as creative and elastic as their brains are, the process really works for them. The stories they write are funny, touching, suspenseful, and wise. But as for me? I can't do it. I can't think of a good character, or imagine an original problem, or even fathom a solution, except for this one: Tracey wants to write a story, but...

Let me know if you can find the turning point!

Too Thick

There was a brief moment last night when, after the school board canceled school for Super Tuesday, we thought we might have an extra day off, too. After all, snow days have been few and far between this year, and they are built into our schedule. It was not to be however, for not 15 minutes later we all received an email about a professional development commitment.

I was disappointed, but I understood; the message included an apology for the short notice and acknowledgement of our hard work. In fact they had me until I read the part that said As lifelong learners, we hope you will see this as an opportunity to participate in professional development that will expand your knowledge and skills in how you teach your students.

Because rather than encouraging? That was just patronizing.

Inspiring Writers One Cup at a Time

I didn't exactly have a plan when the 10 students in my new intervention period walked in at 8 AM this morning. Sure, I knew I wanted them to write-- they are the kids that my evaluation goal is based on this year-- and I thought that encouraging them at this stage in the writing challenge might jump start them to do all 100 days, but beyond that? Let's say I was planning to rely on my motivational teacher personality.

But when they were in front of me, still a little sleepy from the early hour (even though it is our regular time), I sensed that I was going to need a little more than time and encouragement to light a fire under these guys. "Welcome to..." I started, and paused. "Welcome to... the writing cafe!" I said, and turned the lights a little lower.  "My goal for you is that each one of you will write 100 days before the year over."

I saw a few skeptical looks so I continued quickly. "Here you will have space and time to write." I clicked on my Bluetooth speaker and pushed play on a light jazz list and scanned the group. "And refreshments! What's a cafe without food and drinks? How about some hot chocolate?"

Heads nodded; iPads were unlocked, and fingers tapped the screens.

"I love it here all ready," one girl whispered as the writing began.

It's On!

I introduced the 9th Annual 100 Day Writing Challenge to my students today. As I have for the last 4012 days, I'll be writing daily with them. This year I have also decided to challenge myself to do a couple other tasks, that are not quite so routine, for the 100 days from March 1 through June 8.

For me? My daily diligence will be writing, posting a selfie, and doing 100 sit-ups and 10 minutes of meditation. As I told my students today-- I am going to turn these flabs into abs and this stressing into luminescing.

The pep talk must have been somewhat effective-- I've got at least 40 kids in for the writing challenge, and another two girls who are going to do 100 days of push-ups.

Let's go!

Haute Meal

After Heidi's surgery the recommended diet was low fat and high fiber. Plus, she was concerned about keeping her weight down in the weeks of inactivity, and so we settled on oatmeal for breakfast. The cereal we had in the pantry was a can of steel-cut oats from Scotland, and after a couple hearty, filling, and delicious morning meals under 200 calories, I was hooked.

The next oats we bought were organic from Whole Foods and then, in a pinch, we purchased a discount brand. It was oatmeal for goodness sakes! What could it possibly matter? Perhaps it was the snob in me (or as I prefer to think, my refined palate), but those breakfast bowls seemed somewhat lacking. Less nutty? A little more gummy? Starchy rather than toothsome?

Wondering if it was my imagination was driving me nuts, so yesterday I resolved to figure it out. On our weekend grocery run we bought Irish steel-cut and one of America's top brands, too. This morning I prepared all three identically and presented them to Heidi in numbered ramekins so that we could do a taste test.

Of course, I knew which was which, and so I must acknowledge my bias, but Heidi did not. Her preference? Irish one, Bob's two, and Target? Number three. But were the differences enough to cover the price points-- twice and three times as much for the preferred brand? For both of us, it was a NO. And so in good conscience, we can put oatmeal on the regular grocery list.

What a relief!

(Apologies to my brother for two posts in a row with puns!)