Signs Point to Ridiculous

Because we have block schedule, my lesson is the same for two days.

So, what were some of the favorite animals today, you might wonder? Meal worms and tardigrades.

Yeah, this year is going to be a doozy.

How Much Is that Mole Rat in the Window?

The opening activity in English class today was to post a picture of your favorite animal. There is a method to my madness, of course, and today I wanted the sixth graders to figure out how to post images in our Learning Management System, and to remind them that the name of every animal is also a noun. It was also pretty wonderful to begin each class by looking at animals. The fox was a popular choice, as were lions, cheetahs, pandas (red and regular), and of course cats and dogs. 

Seeing what kids choose to share with the whole class can also be very revealing. Most seek out stunning or cute images of the animals they love, but there are always a handful of iconoclasts and contrarians. For most questions, I can usually count on at least one person to ask What if I don't have one? but I don't ever remember such a comment when discussing favorite animals, until today. 

Then there was the guy who posted several screen grabs of non-existent creatures from various anime shows. There were also a few ugly monkeys, and a couple of sloths that really gave me the creeps, and one naked mole rat.

"Is that really your favorite?" I asked the guy who was snickering about his picture with a friend. 

"Oh yes!" he assured me. "Look at those teeth." He pointed at two grotesquely long incisors that ran half the length of the hairless rodent. "They wiggle!"

"Do you have a pet naked mole rat?" I asked.

"I wish!" he answered, and continued the litany of fun facts. "They only have like, twenty-four hairs on their whole body!"

"I don't know why your parents won't get you one," I joked. "They obviously don't shed!"

Until Next Year, Summer

Even though teachers went back to school nearly 3 weeks ago, and kids have already had a four-day week themselves, there's still something about Labor Day weekend that signals the end of summer. It's no matter that the weather was hot, and the pool was open, and we had four days off: there was a shift sometime a little after noon today, right around the time the clouds rolled in. 

And now? I'm sitting at my lap top doing school work.

Cue the rain.

Small World

We spent the evening with some neighbors, hanging out on the back patio and enjoying a classic end-of-summer cookout. The six of us know each other from here, and although we all hail from different parts of the country, in addition to Idaho and Florida and wherever you might say I am from, the other three are from Upstate NY: Buffalo, Rochester, and Utica.

"My dad was from a small town just south of Utica," I said. "Little Falls."

"I know it well," nodded the guy from Utica.

"My sister-in-law is from there," said the gal from Rochester.

On Tap

A couple of years ago I bought a home brewing kit with visions of making my own IPA. When I first got it home, I eagerly opened the box, but was quickly discouraged by what I considered to be an overly complicated set of directions. I repacked the gallon jug, tubing, and plastic airlock, along with the pre-measured packets of grain and hops, and put the kit away for another day. 

When he came to help in the garden yesterday, Treat brought me some hops that he had foraged on his recent trip to Canada and Maine. Hops have many applications, ice cream, chicken marinade, lemonade, and pickles to mention a few, but of course they are most widely known as a flavoring for beer. What else could I do, but dig that kit out again?

In our family, whenever we get a new game, we get Treat to read the directions. He has a gift for quickly grasping the overall concept and then explaining it to us, fielding questions, and consulting the rules when necessary, so that we can get to the game and play. Yesterday, I handed Treat the beer box. "It's too complicated!" I complained. "You have to help me with the directions! Then we can use some of the hops in our very own beer."

"I'm happy to look at it," Treat replied agreeably. "How hard can it be?"

He read the back of the box out loud first. It didn't sound as complex as I remembered. Then he opened the box and admired the equipment, smoothing the printed directions out on the coffee table. "There are 3 steps," he said in his authoritative game master voice, "the mash, the sparge, and the wort."

"See?" I interrupted. "What even is sparge? A noun or a verb?"

"It looks like it can be either," he noted. 

We looked it up on our phones. To sparge means to sprinkle with hot water, especially in brewing.

"Once you sparge the mash, you have your wort," Treat continued.

"No!" I laughed. "Why don't you just take the kit home and teach me how to do it later?"

And bless his heart, that is what he did.

Butternut Bounty

Treat helped me in the garden today and in return, I not only gave him all the butternut squash he wanted (which was only one) I also served him a three course lunch that consisted of butternut squash soup with homemade sourdough bread, butternut squash quesadillas with homemade tortillas and salsa made with homegrown tomatoes and peppers, and finally, butternut squash bread with currants, coriander, and orange. 

What did he do to earn such remuneration? 

Well, among other things, he pulled out the butternut squash vines!

But don't worry! We still have 15 butternut squash to go.

Come Back!

This is the time of year when I most miss my former students. The new kids are sweet, but still? Strangers, and the kids from last year are a little lost as they adjust to their new teachers and schedules. So, we kind of gravitate toward each other.

Today, a couple of of seventh graders stopped by on their way to lunch. At that time, my sixth graders are just going through their starting routine-- posting their answers to the daily question and getting ready to go through the replies, but I enthusiastically invited them in.

"Guys!" I interrupted the class. "We have a couple of visitors from seventh grade! They were in your situation one year ago-- do you have any questions for them?"

The room was silent for a few beats. I heard one sixth grader turn to another and say, "They look so old!"

I was surprised that, when the class finally warmed up, all of their questions were about seventh grade. The older kids answered gamely; to them this was a logical line of inquiry.

"Okay, one more," I announced a few minutes in. "These kids have to go to lunch! Don't you want to know anything about this year?" I suggested. 

The student I had overheard raised his hand. "How can we make sure we don't look really old next year?" He smirked at the guy next to him.

The seventh graders didn't miss a beat. "Skin care," One of them shook her head.

"It's never too early," agreed her friend.

The exchange made me miss them even more.