Write On

We were about an hour from home and the sun was still low on the horizon when I realized that I had not updated the slice of life for my students. "I have to pull over!" I told Heidi and then scanned the interstate anxiously for the next rest stop or exit. 

Five minutes later we were idling in a park and ride lot as I cussed a little at the limited functionality of the app and my phone. The task that would have taken maybe 60 seconds if I had remembered to do it on my lap top, as I meant to, before leaving school, seemed interminably glitchy. 

"Are you sure it can't wait until later?" Heidi asked, noting my frustration. 

"Somebody is going to log on looking to post!" I replied. "It has to be there!" 

At last I was able to save and publish, and we were just about to resume our Spring Break road trip when a little chime sounded on my phone. 

"Where's the slice of life for today?" the message read. 

"Refresh your screen!" I replied. "It's there now." 

"Yay! Thanks!" the student responded. 

I took a deep breath and relaxed as I eased the car back into the flow of traffic. When the kids are that eager to write? It's worth an unplanned pit stop to let them.

Dogs in Space

When we went to pick up Lucy from doggie daycare this afternoon, there was a 4-month old pug puppy at our dog walker's house. Evie was a little shy; she watched the rough and tumble of the big dogs from behind the toy basket, her flat face peeking over the stuffies, and looking for all the world like ET hiding in the closet. And when at last she ventured out on her strangely long legs (she'll fill into them), she strongly resembled an AT-AT Walker from Star Wars. 

Really? Is it any wonder that the creators of Men in Black chose Frank the pug as the perfect disguise for a friendly alien? It really isn't much of a stretch.

The Haystack

One of my homeroom students started in person today. Because he was a few weeks behind the kids who had attended already, his mom contacted me yesterday to go over the routine and also to report that he was a little nervous. Understandably so! Our sixth graders have never even been in the building: they have no frame of reference for even the most explicit directions.

"No worries," I told her, "I'll head down to the gym in the morning and bring him upstairs to show him around." 

It was a good plan until I entered the cavernous field house attached to our school. A couple hundred or so masked kids sat on the cross points of a six-foot grid. Many had their hoods up; most were looking straight down at their devices. I scanned the group and considered my options. Short of shouting his name, all I could do was walk up and down the rows peering intently at every student. When at last I was saved by the bell, a figure just ahead of me stood up. "Here I am!" he said cheerfully.

"You are so tall!" I told him. "The camera doesn't show that!"

Later in the day, I found out that yet another of my homeroom kids would be starting tomorrow. "Where do I go?" she asked anxiously.

"I'll come downstairs to find you," I promised, but then looked at the guy I had fetched this morning. "But if you see me before I see you? You better wave!"

Keep Stirring

I made risotto for dinner tonight. Any avid fan of one of the many reality cooking competition shows out there will know that risotto is always a risk, if not a certain ticket to the loser bracket. It is not necessarily a hard dish to make (although it does take focused attention at the stove), but it's a hard dish to time when coordinated service is an expectation. Luckily for me we eat when it's ready around here.

The first time I ever ate risotto I was 14. My family was living in Saudi Arabia, but due to the laws governing expatriate schools in the Kingdom, I was in boarding school in Switzerland. Just up the mountain from my school was a little restaurant called Flora's where all they served were ribs slow-cooked on their wood fire hearth, salad, and risotto Milanese. If you wanted anything else you might have been disappointed, until the family-style platters and bowls arrived at your table and you dug in. A menu as simple as that must be impeccable, and Flora and her staff delivered.

But I was 14. How was I to know what an extraordinary meal I was having? I just thought you could find perfection everywhere. 

When I first started cooking seriously, I believed I could recreate that meal. Over the years, I have tried dozens of rib and risotto recipes, and there have been some good meals, but that Flora's magic? Has eluded me. Tonight our risotto is rather work-a-day: boxed chicken stock with some shallots and shiitakes. We have a shrimp topping sautéed with napini and winter cress from our CSA, freshly shaved pecorino and a little dice of plum tomato. Nothing to complain about, for sure, but no comparison to Flora's either.

But that's okay.

Whiskers Forward

I have a student in my homeroom who has been very shy all year. She never turns on her camera, and in fact, before Fall Conferences she told her dad that I had never seen her before. It was true-- my image of her was based on the photo in my grade book, a picture that had been taken early in fifth grade. When she finally made an appearance for the conference, I was kind of surprised at how much she'd changed: the little girl with pigtails and smile was replaced by a middle schooler with a high and tight mop of curls and an anxious frown. 

After that? I heard her voice (although rarely), but the slash across her camera icon remained steadfastly present, even during the second conference. That is until last week. 

A bunch of the other kids in our group are certified goofballs: they are forever wearing hats and masks, waving papers and books and posters, and parading their stuffies and pets across the screen for us. There were a couple of cats waving in the gallery when her hand went up. 

"Hey!" I said brightly. "Do you have a question?"

"No," she said quietly, "but I do have a comment."

"Go ahead!" I said.

"We're getting two kittens next week," she reported.

Well, the class went a little wild and wouldn't give up until she had posted a picture of her kittens-to-be in the chat. 

And then today? That hand went up again. "We got our kittens," she told us. 

And what do you know? There she was on camera, first with a very stubborn and wiggly gray-striped kitten held up to her cheek, and then again cradling a quite compliant orange-striped baby.

"So cute! Congratulations!" I said, as the image faded to a little circle with her initials. 

But my fingers are crossed that those kittens will be a little less camera shy than their girl.

The C in CLT

One colleague mentioned a mentor text that she had used successfully with her students. Another colleague searched the author and found that she lived and taught in the next school district over. The third colleague went to the author's homepage and contacted her about a virtual visit with the young writers in their classes.

Ten days later? Kids and author were laughing and talking about writing and publishing together.

Now that's collaboration!

It's Been a Minute

I ordered a lightweight vest from LL Bean and when it arrived the other day I found that it was a little big. If this had happened any time in the last 12 months, I would have printed a return label and dropped my package either at the post office or UPS Store. But there is an LL Bean store not 20 minutes from our house, and being fully vaccinated, it seemed like a good Sunday errand to go make an exchange for a vest that fits. 

So we did. It's not that we haven't been shopping all year; we have in moderation, but today being out and about in the sunshine, jockeying for a spot in the parking lot, and then spending a little time checking out the sale racks and new spring offerings? Well.  

And although it is hard to say if it felt more like a beginning or an ending, it undoubtedly felt very different.