No, unfortunately I don't feel like dancing today. Not even. But this video clip always delights me. Here are a couple of quirky things about my day: 1)somebody kifed the keys to my antique typewriter case (typewriter inside) forcing me to write "KEYS!" in four foot high letters on my whiteboard. I was ticked. So ticked that I threatened to fill out a Wendy's application if the keys don't show up!! 2)I was confronted with a "female" problem today that not only took me deep into the bowels of ask.com but to a few other internet stops as well AND two calls to two doctors on behalf of this student. Sheesh. I still don't have an answer! 3)I was forced to "lockdown" until someone fessed up about what my bottle of EXPO (whiteboard cleaner) which was nearly empty but was now nearly full was full of!!!!! I tried to force a confession. Still a mystery. What is that liquid and from whence did it come??????????? It was a Black Hole of questions kind of day. No answers. Teaching--do not attempt this at home!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
We're going to visit these feet in Denver next week. Forgive me if I nibble. Good thing this picture was taken before I start eating them!!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Beaker hangs in the corner of my classroom (just west of Skippy my resident gargoyle) and is the silent observer of all that goes (and doesn't go) on. Last year one of my students, Amber, was deathly afraid of him--in spite of Beaker's best efforts at offering gifts and peace offerings. Today, however, Beaker finds his voice and raises it in a song of joy! This Beethoven movement has a special place in my heart. My youngest son at two could not only hum it perfectly but could give rightful credit to the composer AND even the nickname of the symphony as well. He was a great parlor trick in Austin, Texas, in those days.
What was that commercial? Northern Tissue? Grandmothers forced to live away from their grandchildren is cruel and unusual punishment. Anybody ever hear of the Geneva Convention for heaven's sake??????? Wasn't there a grandmother clause????? For the most part I compartmentalize these frustrations, but then not always...
Thursday, November 13, 2008
It's 12:07 A.M. and insomnia has set in. I guess that's the price you pay for going to sleep at 8 P.M. Actually four hours of sleep is not bad, and in some circles might even be considered a good night's sleep! I'm toying with the idea of going down to Mt. Potato Peeler's brand spanking new 24/7 gym. Over that. Cruised around at Cake Wrecks and found Mr. I'm-President-and-You-Aren't-Nanny-Boo-B00. What is this crusty sticky glob of sugar on the elbow of my robe?????? Today I was proofing a paper with the author perched right above me on my "proofing stool". I've long ago accepted that yes I have to edit 7th grade essays as punishment for being a baby beater in another life--Karma--ya gotta love it. But today I received a small pay-off. Mr. Author wrote that he was heading off to Australia to begin a new civilization with 5 other poor schmucks and by golly they were taking 3 "Douche ovens"! Maybe I'll go raid the tower of goodies that arrived from the Popcorn Factory last week. So far we've been using it as a centerpiece--shared a Pixie (it's really a turtle) with Elyse on Sunday. Hold on. I'll go take a picture.
Paco did something horribly right for Gallup and this arrived in the mail. You start at the top with little foil-covered chocolate leaves and end up on the bottom with some gourmet popcorn making brief stops in boxes in between to sample nuts, candy pumpkins and I don't know what all. Actually the snug fitting ribbon/chastity belt has proven to be the best deterrent for complete hog-ness that I've ever seen. So hmmmm....whatcha up to? Maybe I should go practice the piano. What else is new? NEWSFLASH!!!!! JUST IN FROM IDAHO!!!!!! MIDNIGHT BLOGGER PUTS ENTIRE FREE WORLD TO SLEEP WITH RAMBLINGS!!!!! ....yeah, everybody but herself probably. Hungry. Douche oven potatoes anyone? I've got some stuff on my mind. Maybe that's what is messing with my sleep. Feel free to drop out here. I'll not be offended. Anybody keeping up with The Office? I find Michael almost painful--he's such a tragic figure to me. And I'd give anything for a Dwight at my school. But then I'd need a Pam or Jim too and that just isn't going to happen. Ever. Hey! Wake up!!! Don't leave me!!! Here's a picture of my kid's leg the night before he got married. He ran afoul of a log appendage when we were out getting firewood a few weeks ago.
I wonder how that bruise played out for him on Waikiki for the honeymoon. I'm not much on beach etiquette, but I would think that stomach-turning displays of wounds wouldn't go over well. I don't know. What a long night. Long and dark. Wind is beginning to howl. Just when I start to think I have amazingly good mental health I get overrun by a funk. Anybody else out there funk-y? I feel like I'm on one of those crazy cutloose cabooses in a cartoon--you know the ones where the train car tears madly around corners and the big cartoon faces with the looks of terror and tongues lolling out zoom in and take up the whole screen? That's how I feel. Only my train car this time seems to be me and the aging process. And I can't stop it or control it. Way down at the end of the track I see myself reclined in a barcalounger in a nursing home sleeping around the clock with my mouth open and my skin sort of ashen. My lips and nose are chapped from the oxygen tubes, but I can't even have any Vicks or Metholatum becaue the petroleum in them is flammable. So I discover that butter does the trick and now I sneak that at dinner. Don't tell on me. Today I missed my bathtime because when they came around I just didn't feel like it. Now I have to wait for 3 days to catch another one. A polar fleece blanket is thrown haphazardly over my knees, and next to me here in the commons area is an old guy with his pant legs hiked up--bony legs exposed. He's in the same spot that they've parked him in during the day for the last 3 months. But his hair looks nice. On Tuesdays somebody comes to do my nails. Wednesday is BINGO and Relief Society. The nurses try hard to hang decorations for every holiday. The custodians try unsuccessfully to keep that awful awful smell at bay. How come we enter into this world with so much fanfare, celebration, and dignity and the exit is so confoundedly depressing? Anybody wanna analyze where all this came from? Go read something happy. I'm going back to bed. Send cheer.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Here is someone some of you know (other than the guy to the right). Hannah (just left of him) met Obama in his capacity as her senator during a trip she took to DC a year or so ago. I believe she was there on something official--I really should get my stories straight. I'll do that and get back to you. Rather than pontificate about anything political tonight, however, I am choosing to focus on something far less global--being in photographs. Now Hannah here looks great! She has a spiffy suit, is well coiffed, and looks confident. Her regal moment is etched in time through the photograph. Obama, as well, appears on top of his game. He always looks like the groom on a wedding cake, doesn't he? Their planets were aligned to produce one great photo! I think it should be made into posters for everyone Hannah knows AND hung prominently. If I were in this photo, I would most likely have skewed my mouth--or worse still said something to the photographer just as his shutter snapped--resulting in a monstrosity good only for deleting. I probably would have shut my eyes or later discovered toilet paper stuck to my shoe. I'm not sure whether there was a line of people waiting to step into the photo beside the senator after Hannah was escorted away. I'm imagining here. Hopefully she got lunch with Senator Obama and was then given a paperweight or at least a pen or something. My point (and I do have one) is that generally speaking my photo karma is lousy. My eyes are uneven, I'm usually caught saying something out of the side of my mouth to somebody next to me, and my mouth appears not only unnatural but deformed. Why is that? I don't see a freak when I look in the mirror! Usually not, anyway. In conclusion, Hannah, be ever so happy that none of my photograph demons are yours! Now you can rejoice that not only did your diligent campaigning pay off in huge White House dividends come January, but you ALSO had the good fortune to have been in the right place at the right time with your eyes open and your suit pressed to pull off one great photo. I sincerely congratulate you on all counts. Having said that, I shall excuse myself to photoshop out the inch of white slip showing below my skirt in recent wedding photos... (note: Should you not recognize Hannah--she's a family friend and former student from way back--daughter of my principal and good friends Bruce and Cheryl, gifted writer, brilliant student, and recently graduated physician's assistant now working in the down and dirty part of Chicago while her husband continues in medical school. She's articulate and beautiful. And happy happy happy since last Tuesday.