Lessons from our Furry Friends

Sometimes it's hard to focus on how wonderful the change of season has been this year, especially when we feel too anxious and busy to appreciate it. Yesterday was crisp and blue, the leaves are showing their color all over town. And with temperatures dipping into the 40s, we had our first fire of the season last night. The leftover wood from last winter was light and dry and caught quickly, crackling merrily in no time. And also in no time at all, 2 cats and a dog were spread out back to back and nose to nose as close to the hearth as they dared, mindful of the danger, but stretching and sighing and soaking in the warmth. 

That's the way to do it.

I Get by with a Little Help

For nearly 22 years there's been a 1160 foot, 10% grade hill between me and riding my bike to school. The whole trip is only about 3 miles, but Superman Hill is near the beginning of the route, and it's a deal breaker. Plus, I'm not getting any younger. So when our local bikeshare rolled out a few electric bikes to join their fleet, I was eager to borrow one and ride it up that hill. 

Today was the day that I finally got my chance. A bike scavenger hunt to benefit the organization in town that teaches kids how to fix bikes and donate them to folks in need is running asynchronously all weekend long, and I made arrangements to meet my nephews and sister-in-law at its starting point-- my school. So this morning I launched the bikeshare app, found an electric bike available just a little ways from home, and set off to claim it. 

My first impression was how freakin' heavy and unwieldy the thing was, but once I hopped on and zoomed away, I could barely contain my Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! It was fun and zippy, the bike equivalent of walking on a moving sidewalk. Counterintuitively perhaps, riding the bike made me want to pedal even faster, and I was up the hill into our complex in no time. A little while later, the true test loomed, and as the light changed I punched those pedals and took off up the hill.

It wasn't anything like the hot knife through butter ease I had fantasized about, and I was huffing and puffing by the time I got to the top, but I got there and it didn't really take that long. I made it to school in a little under 20 minutes, which is a manageable commute. 

There was another ebike at the station there, and my sister-in-law borrowed it. We had picked the easy version of the hunt, six miles instead of 18, but our ebikes made it even easier for the two of us late 50-somethings to keep up with those two twenty-something guys. 

My only regret was that we didn't go for the 18 miler, although there was a moment early in the hunt when I was struggling to adjust my seat. "I might need a little help here," I sighed. "Pedal assist and sticky seats-- welcome to my golden years!"

To the Bone

 When my nephew was three, his scientific mind was already developing. "What's in your ears and your nose?" we would ask him.

"Oh," he would shrug, "that's carteridge." 

His pronunciation my have been off, but he knew his facts. The same cannot be said for the designers of all the decorative animal skeletons that have populated the neighborhood in advance of Halloween. Cats and dogs and rats and even a horse stare blankly through hollow sockets as we pass, but they all have bony little ears on their skulls.

Riley would not approve.

Pinch Me

Last night I dreamed that I was sleeping.

Wow! I must  really be tired!

The Show Must Go On

 Oh my!

Was that me screaming and cussing this morning 2 minutes before my first class call was supposed to start?

Err, yes, yes it was.

The tantrum was triggered when I spilled my coffee all over my work space, drenching blotter, keyboard, mouse and rosters. And instead of hastily cleaning up so that I could start my class, I swept my arm across the table in rage and knocked a few more things into the puddle of coffee pooling on the floor, then kicked my desk chair over, and stomped around, bellowing in frustration, forbidding Heidi to help me at all.

But

the clock was still ticking, and so I furiously grabbed some towels and paper towels and started swabbing my tears and the coffee as fast as I could. Then I righted my chair, plopped down, and rolled over to the still, slightly damp table, dried my mouse on my coffee stained shirt, and clicked JOIN, just a minute late.

And as the little circles glowed on my screen, disembodied young voices wishing me a good morning, my composure completely returned, and I turned on my camera and started the class.

Never the Same Unit Twice

 "Why didn't we ever do that?" many returning students have asked when our conversation turns to what the current kids are working on.

Sometimes I shrug and shake my head and say, "You did!" and they laugh because they don't remember. But other times? I defend myself by explaining that even teachers, no especially teachers, have to keep learning and improving. Then it's their turn to shrug, but nod their heads.

Even so, I've noticed that the most profound improvements often come not from the splashy new activities, but rather from the most subtle changes. Today I reframed some of the writing prompts we use to help our young writers come up with a topic for their food memoirs by simply adding the phrase a story about a time when...

I had a bunch of story starters and we spun a virtual wheel to pick a couple to brainstorm (okay the wheel was a little flashy, especially the fanfare and confetti). The ideas that the studenta came up with were wonderful. In response to a story about a time when you cooked or got food for someone else, we heard stories about cooking a traditional nepalese dish to surprise one girl's parents, a boy making dinner for his mother and grandfather because he knew they would be tired after work, and another young man waking early to make breakfast for his extended family as they slept, getting overwhelmed, and then rescued by his dad when he got up.

The mark of a promising topic I told them, is the emotion you felt and the change in you at the end. "What did you learn from your experience?" I asked each.

"To keep trying, even if you think it's not good enough," answered the first student. 

"Sometimes you have to be responsible and help out," said the second.

"Teamwork really helps!" replied the third.

I think they got it.

No Rest for the Weary

The second Monday in October used to be the first holiday of the school year. It came just at the right time-- when routines were pretty solid, but everyone could use a break after the go-go-go of the beginning of the school year. Some years back, in an effort to add more working days to the teacher calendar, Columbus Day became a student-only holiday; staff was expected to participate in professional learning. 

There was some justification of the move that involved a cursory discussion of whether it was appropriate to mark the day as a holiday at all, given all the terrible consequences of Columbus's journey on the people and lands he "discovered". I more than understand that perspective, and this year I was happy to hear that our state is celebrating Indigenous People Day for the first time. Even so, I got up, logged in, participated in my distance PD, and then planned my lessons for tomorrow and Wednesday. 

I hope the kids enjoyed their day off.