Professional Courtesy

"If you're not familiar with farro," our waiter told us last night, "it's a grain, similar to, uh, I would say, quinoa?" he finished on an upnote. I raised my eyebrows at Heidi, but did not correct him. Everyone in our group was either farro savvy or had no intention of ordering it. I did have it on my meal, and it was excellent.

It was the second time this week I have stayed mum on food facts. On Wednesday, we went with friends to a cooking class downtown. The experience was my Christmas gift from them, and I was looking forward to it. Our session was on handmade ravioli, and as a former chef and teacher, I was very curious about both the content and the presentation. As the instructor proceeded through the lesson, the members of my party did a lot of nudging and winking at me, mostly because I refused to engage on any level other than learner. 

"How many times have you done this?" someone whispered.

"Just once, today," I answered.

"How would you do this?" someone else asked me a little later. 

I shrugged. "This way, right now," I said pointedly.

And although I didn't really learn anything new, and I may have taught the class differently, it was still enjoyable. Just like the farro.

Leaping Llamas

"What is that animal?" the teacher asked her first-graders, pointing to a black-and-white illustration in their workbooks.

"A sheep!" someone called out.

"It does kind of look like a sheep," she acknowledged.

"A llama!" suggested another.

I giggled because a llama was not something I ever would have guessed. But even though the school was less than three miles from my grandparents' house, the kids in the class were from a much different background than mine. All but one were multilingual learners, most speaking Spanish at home and English at school. (Also, llamas are a lot more ubiquitous today.)

The teacher laughed too. "It's actually a goat," she told her class. "And do you know what we call a baby goat?" She waited, but hearing no volunteers, continued, "A kid!"

Many of the students looked blankly.

"You know, like sometimes we call children kids," she said. "You're kids, and a baby goat is a kid, too." She smiled. "Now, what does this kid do?" she asked, pointing to the word "jumps" on the handwriting line beneath the picture.

"El niño salta," whispered one boy to the girl next to him, hopping up and down in his seat a bit.

He does indeed.

The Yin and the Yang

The weather today was perfect.  The sun was so pleasantly warm, and the air had just the slightest chill. It was my very favorite kind of day.

And as I walked through its glory, it occurred to me that this is why I love my cooling comforter so very, very much. It keeps me cozy and warm, but if I wake up in the middle of the night, a slight adjustment gives me a smooth, cool sensation on my bare feet or hands, soothing me right back to sleep. It's like flipping to the other side of the pillow-- a perfect combination of warm and cool. 

It's no wonder I have been sleeping so well!

AND Good Company

Besides the obvious spiffing up your house and guest quarters, having company often gives you the opportunity to do things you mean to, but never get around to. Take this weekend, for example. We're driving up to Carlisle, PA, to fetch our goddaughter, who is a senior at Dickinson. On the way back to our newly-cleaned home, we're going to stop for dinner in Frederick, MD, at Bryan Voltaggio's restaurant, Showroom. 

He's one of our Top Chef favs, and we've been meaning to get up to his hometown for over a decade. Even though we've driven through dozens of times on our way back and forth from Buffalo, Pittsburgh, and West Virginia (not to mention Carlisle), we've never made time to actually eat at one of his places. That's going to change on Friday.

Then, on Saturday, we have tickets to As You Like It at the Folger Library Theatre, another place we know we should visit more often. The current production has been well-reviewed and cited as a "love letter to Washington, D.C." and "a light-hearted tonic for the troubled times the city finds itself in." Honestly, who could say no to that?

As of now, Sunday is open, but it turns out so are we, so who knows what fun we'll get into?

The Magic Bridge

Lucy and I went out for a walk through the neighborhood on this glorious spring day. As we headed over the bridge spanning the interstate, a dark pickup truck passed us and then slowed to an ominous roll, stopping just ahead. I was skeptical, but Lucy knew who it was right away. She began shrieking and whining as Sarah, her dogwalker, clambered down and came over to say hello. 

After chatting for a good while, Lucy and I continued on our way, walking about a mile and a half before looping back to pass over the same bridge on our way home. As we crossed, a tan Honda CRV slowed with a friendly wave. Lucy stood up on the leash and craned her neck to see who it was, just as our friend Mary considerately made a U-turn and came back to say hi.

Lucy put on another shrieky-whiny show; she was that happy. "She already thinks this bridge is magical," I laughed, recalling the lady who gave her treats there a couple of months ago. 

"Maybe she's right!" Mary said.

Tales of Temping

"It should be simple!" they said. "Just swap the grade level groups for teachers in their own grades."

But of course, nothing is ever that easy, especially when you're dealing with over a thousand kids and a hundred staff members, not to mention accommodations and room size. It took me all weekend to finalize the assignments and make transparent, easily accessible lists for all the stakeholders for just one of the two upcoming tests.

Thank goodness I'm getting paid by the hour! (Also, that I don't actually have to report to work tomorrow, although I do have a meeting at 9:30.)

That Hat

"Excuse me?" a young woman at the Jeep service center approached me. "Did you use to coach at TJ School?"

I nodded and laughed. "Yes," I answered, "but I taught there, too."

"I knew it!" she said. 

"And you are...?" I asked, examining her curiously. She looked slightly familiar, but it had probably been about 20 years since she was in middle school. 

When she told me her name, I saw it right away. I reminded her that she had been in my homeroom, asked about her brother and sisters, and even her cousins. I could tell that she knew I remembered her, and she was pleased.

Later, I thought about how she remembered me as a coach rather than as a teacher. I had co-coached the girls basketball team when she was on it, and I recalled her game. She was small but very skilled, made the team in 6th grade, and became an outstanding shooting guard. She was also a good student, but basketball was her strength and her joy.

Given that? I'm glad she recognized me as Coach.