Longest Three Weeks Ever

Last week, when one of my students called his classmate "that kid", I gave the group a pep talk about community and offered a reward to anyone who could name everyone in the class. Over the next few days, there were several takers, and I was impressed and heartened by their attention to the other kids in the class. "I know how hard it is," I laughed to my teacher friends at lunch, "because I feel like I just learned the names and faces myself!"

But today, when I scanned the 2 assessment forms I have been charged to complete for some student support meetings, I wished for an N/A or "not yet observed" option on many of the questions. I also wondered if I was somehow coming up short because I couldn't give a 1-5 on tests, peer relationships, or accommodations imperative for success. In the end, I reviewed the available data, and completed the form as best I could.

"Do you know I've only worked five days this year?" my friend Mary sighed this afternoon. She's been out on family leave since the day her father died a couple of week ago, and today was her first day back. "It seems like these kids need to re-learn almost everything."

I sympathized, but it was the five day figure that captured my attention. "Today was six?" I clarified.

She shrugged-- it had been a hard re-entry.

"But, you were out for six days! That means we've only been in school for 12." 

And with block scheduling? I've only seen most of the kids six times!

Now, that explains a lot.

Very Late Summer

It was a busy weekend, and so it was nearly six this evening when we walked up to the garden to harvest anything that might not last until midweek when we will be able to find the time to return. The peppers are finally coming in, some of the tomatoes are enjoying a resurgence, and the shell beans seem to think it's still July; we can thank the hot weather we had last week for that, I think. 

Although we picked briskly and dawdled not at all in the garden, dusk was coming on quickly as we headed home. The cold front this morning brought us some drier air, but there was no chill, yet, and we were comfortable in our shorts and flip flops. Still, the light told us that summer will not linger much longer. As we walked home in the gathering evening we heard some folks out on their decks and patios, enjoying the final hours of the weekend, but the windows, too, cast a warm and golden glow, encouraging a passerby to hurry home.

With a K

 A few days ago at Target we ran into the son of a friend of ours. This young man was also a former student at our school, and so it was fun catching up with him. He had some really good news to share, too. "I had to buy me some more polo shirts," he said, showing us the jewel-toned garments he was carrying. "I got a promotion! I'm a district supervisor now!"

"Congratulations!" I told him "That is awesome!"

"I even get my own office!" he replied. "I have been decorating it all week with pictures of Kobe Bryant."

I was reminded that it was when he was a student at our school that Heidi had hamsters as classroom pets. She generously adopted them from a student who was forced to give them up, but unfortunately, their former owner kept putting the male and female in the same tank together at school, and so soon the two hamsters became seven. (Then they became four, because, well, you know what hamsters do if they feel their environment can't support their young.) It was a rather traumatic time.

Back at Target, I remembered that this guy had adopted one of the baby hamsters and named him Kobe. "Do you have any pictures of Kobe the hamster in your office?" I teased him.

He looked wistful. "Ah, no," he answered. "But that was my first pet, so now it's the answer to all my security questions!"

Eighteen Months Later

I literally scratched my head as I stood in front of the big, new copy machine in the main office. After tapping around a bit on the darkened touch screen, I finally woke the giant up and found that it wasn't really that different from the last copier we had. But when I had to think a minute about where to find some of the settings and controls, it occurred to me that I hadn't made a single copy since before March 13, 2020. Almost all of my instruction had been electronic since then.

"How many trees do you think you saved?" joked a colleague when I told him.

"That's not even the point!" I said, do you know what else I haven't done since that week in March 2020?"

He shook his head.

"Have a full, five-day week of in-person school! None of us have." I pointed at the calendar. "But, get ready... it's happening next week!"

Susan's Salsa

One of the unexpected pleasures of the wedding we attended last weekend came when I was drying dishes. At about 10 on the night of the wedding, those who were still celebrating were *really* still celebrating, and a few, a little more sober, of us decided to get a start on clean up. That is how I found myself working to clear the cluttered kitchen with the sister of the bride. 

I have known Josh's Aunt Susan for over 20 years; she is his mom's younger sister, and was probably around 21 when we first met. Like many big sisters, Michelle is sometimes dismissive of her younger sibling, but over the years I've seen Susan become a wife, a mother of three, and an accomplished homesteader, with all sorts of enviable making and preserving skills. When the kitchen was as clean and organized as we could get it, She opened a jar of her candied jalapeños, chopped some spring onion and stirred them into cream cheese. The concoction was delicious on crackers. 

As we discussed the heat level (pretty mild), she told me about a friend who, after tasting the jalapeños, requested candied ghost peppers. "I treated it like the toxic mixture it was," she said. "I ordered a gas mask from Amazon and wore two layers of rubber gloves past my elbows. I have a three-burner gas cooker out in my back yard, and I did all the cooking and canning there."

My eyes were huge. 

She laughed. "And it would have been fine, except for some reason, I took the gloves off to do the dishes." She shook her head with rue. "My hands were red for a week and super sensitive to any heat of even warm air. I had a chemical burn!"

"Did the guy actually eat his peppers?" I asked, thinking that if they could do that to her hands, what would they do to someone's throat.

"Yep," she shrugged. "He loved 'em."

A little while later, she gave me her method for making salsa. 

Cut your tomatoes in half and squeeze out the seeds. Place them cut side down on a baking sheet, with sliced onions, garlic cloves, and seeded peppers. Run the sheet under the broiler until everything is charred. When cool, the tomato skins slip right off and the pepper skins will, too. Chop everything together, season to taste, put into pint jars and water process. One sheet pan makes about a quart.

I tried her recipe this morning with tomatoes and peppers from my garden and onions and garlic from Treat's farm. A little of the fresh cilantro I have growing on the deck, and some cumin and sea salt completed the salsa. 

But it won't be around long enough to can, because it's that good.

Near Miss

The compost bin in my garden is snugged up to the chainlink fence that separates the community from the public sidewalk that runs right along its edge. Over the years I've had a few conversations with friendly bypassers, even recognizing one or two people from school or the neighborhood, but in general the folks walking by while I work politely ignore me just as I do them. 

So today, when I chucked a rotten tomato from the far side of the plot to the compost bin without looking, I gasped when I noticed a pedestrian heading my way. Mostly, my aim is true, but I have splattered a few over-ripe things through the fence. And goodness, did that teenaged girl, all focused on her phone, jump when a soft, pulpy mess kerplunked into the nest of vines and clippings in the bin a few inches from her phone hand.

Our eyes met when she scanned the area to identify the threat, and I waved wildly. "Sorry! Sorry!" I apologized. 

And to her credit and my relief, she laughed and kept on walking.

Just One Thing

The warm-up question for class today and yesterday was "If you had to eat only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?" 

Even though I explained that it was really just a thinking exercise, the sixth graders took it very seriously, many of them posting answers and then replying to themselves to add or change their responses.

Here are a few examples:

Bread

Or maybe grapes

No actually it would be pizza

Pizza is my final decision

And this one:

Funnel cake 

Because its just soooo good in my opinion, but I would miss French fries

 Because French fries never let me down as well

LIKE NOT EVERRR!!!

There were also a few surprises:

Honeydew, I guess...

Or spinach

And

My choice would be whey because it would supply me with much protein. It wouldn’t taste very good but it is healthy.

 The kind without lead

There were also kids who tried to game the question

Eggs, cause you can have them lots of ways

Subway subs

Different pizza every day

But my favorite of these cheatin' answers was this one:

A sandwich with every single type of food on it.

"Wow, that's so smart," marveled another student. "You can just take off anything you don't like!"