The Computer

Today I got this new computer.  All the Literacy Workers got them.  I love it so much.  I need to get some of my own pictures on here, but at least I've figured out the photo problem.  I found this great picture of finches.  I feel very grateful for this new computer.  I'm going to work even harder now and every day of my life from now until eternity. 

The Show

Still no luck posting my creative photography. I'll get to the bottom of this sooner or later. I accidentally deleted an entire class worth of testing data from the palm pilot testing reports page, but after an hour on the phone with some testing site fixer, I did get to the bottom of the problem, and restored the class. So, in other words, I will get to the bottom of my photography problem as well.

We saw Lucinda Williams last night. She seemed to like the Bluebird. Kept saying stuff like, "This place is great!" and "We like playing in little rock clubs like this!" So that made all of us happy that she was enjoying herself. One gal near me kept texting and taking pictures with her handheld. She kept sticking her camera up in front of my view. I finally said to Husbandman, "Grab that device and throw it. Throw it as far as you can." He agreed it would be a good idea, but preferred not to take action at that time. My favorite songs were: You Took My Joy. Change the Locks. Atonement.

The Needles

I'm a little irked that blogspot is not letting me post my creative photography.

But the point of this post is to compare shots I've had. I'm thinking about the shots in my toe last year. Were they as painful as the shots in my armpit I received earlier today?

I didn't shout out with the toe shots, but I did with the armpit. So I guess
hands down the armpit shots were worse. My mrsa filled cyst has been anesthetized, nicked, drained,
cultured and bandaged. I'm hoping to be bacteria free asap.

The K

I had to give a meaningless math test to a K this week. The scores were used to determine how much free tutoring might be available after school, so it didn't matter at all who scored what. So I was zipping through it like a bat out of hell.
"This girl has 3 books and this girl has 3 books," I said, tapping at the pictures. "How many books do they have if they put their books together?
The K laboriously counted, tapping each book, and then looked up and said, "6?"
"Exactly. Write it down."
"What does 'write it down' mean?"
"Write 6 on the line there."
The K laboriously worked on writing down a 6 and when he was done, he held up a finger, pointing as if to make a point. "Wait a minute. 3 plus 3 is six?"
"Yeah. It is."
He looked at me for several seconds and then said, "I always thought it was 33."

The K's prior theory made a lot of sense to me.

The Rail

I was walking to the office yesterday and this little kid and his sister walked out. "I'm sick," the first grader said, smiling away.
"Sorry to hear that bud."
"I vomited two times. At recess." He offered with pride.
"Yikes. Hope you feel better."
He walked past me toward the stair well and his mom came out of the office and said, "He keeps getting sick. He passes it to his sister and she passes it back and it keeps going like that. Look what's he's doing now. That's how he keeps spreading germs."

I turned around to see the kid, his mouth wide open, walking down the stairs and sucking on the handrail at the same time. He was basically covering the entire hand rail with his saliva as he moved down from one stair to the next.

I just stared and said to the mom, "Yeah, that's how it happens."

Geez, kid, think it through.

The Books

Here's the good news: Yesterday I got great books in the mail from Good Pal Menosky. A Book by Mordecai Gerstein and The Plot Chickens by MJ and H Auch. If you teach writing or reading, you will probably want these books asap. I read them to Husbandman and he liked them both. And that's high praise indeed.

But here's the sad thing. Another good friend has a book for me, and she called me twice to tell me that she's even going to drop the book off at my house (!) , and I didn't return her phone calls. And now I'm afraid to call her to say I can come pick up the book. I get myself into these things fairly frequently. I'm supposed to go to another testing workshop this week and I was supposed to fill out a form and I didn't do it and now it maybe TOO LATE!!!! Why didn't I just fill it out? I had time. And my mom had her birthday and I actually HAVE her gifts now, but I keep not sending them. Bleh. So disappointing.

It's clear that I have some significant character flaws. I should join a 12 step for people who don't like to answer the phone and who don't like to fill out forms, and who are always late with birthday gifts. Step One is done, as you can see. I need to move on to Step 8 asap.

The Attitude

Yesterday I was in second grade. One little girl was in a time out at her desk while the other kids were having free time. Her teacher said she had to "lose the attitude." The girl seemed not at all sad but kept asking the teacher questions like, "Can I get a book?" and "How long do you think I'll be sitting here?" and "Are there any activities I could do here while I'm waiting?"
The teacher went over the whole concept of time out again with her and the kid nodded like she was taking it all in. Then she put her head down on her arms and said, "Maybe I'll just lay my head down here on the table and pretend I'm sleeping like a little dog."
The teacher said, "Yeah, that'll work."

It's pretty funny being with these kids and teachers. Tonight's Open House. I feel no anxiety whatsoever. I'll just walk around and chat with people.

The Stories

On this weekend, I've listened to podcasts and read the newspaper. I love the diagnosis piece that runs in the NYT magazine. This week the story told about a woman who could no longer walk and no one could figure out why. Finally a doctor figured out that it might be caused by using too much denture adhesive, which contains high amounts of zinc. And then I listened to the story of a doctor named Jack Geiger who was befriended by the great actor, Canada Lee. This piece was on This American Life, in the episode about the kindness of strangers. Jack Geiger was a founder of Physicians for Social Responsibility. I wouldn't mind being a doctor. I've had a nagging concern for my own profession since starting the new job. I love the idea of figuring something out and fixing it as in the case of the denture adhesive. I also love the idea of repositioning the job into broader work for human rights, as in the case of Jack Geiger.
If Teendaughter or #1 son could become doctors, I could learn more about what's involved with being a physician, almost firsthand. We may be getting a clinic in our new school that's being built, and maybe I could work part time in there to get true firsthand experience.

The Holiday

A mere few weeks ago we were out on the deck, sharing our space with this family here, and enjoying summer ease. Now we're fully in swing and things are falling apart. My house is in disarray, I'm a week late on my mom's birthday gift, the polymorphous light eruption is back (and itching like crazy) and I keep getting unpleasant reminders that Teendaughter doesn't live here anymore.

It's time for me to take a deep breath and focus on WHAT's GOING RIGHT! Okay, let's think.
Um. Let's see.
What's going right?

Well, first off, I feel guilty saying this, but I feel pretty happy I'm not in the classroom right now. And secondly, I haven't gotten hysterical about TD leaving for 6 days. And C., I got to see some movies yesterday. Last, but not least, it's raining, so I don't have to water the two squashes.
And even more? A 3 day weekend is undeniably fantastic for everyone. I've started to think about exercising again. Just rolling it around in my mind a bit. Not going to rush into anything. Thinking about it (awareness) may just be the first step to doing it (action).

And finally, the NYTimes is sitting over there calling me back to the couch. So I'm about to have an hour of pleasantry. Happy Labor Day Eve, friends.

The Angst

We've got some T's at school who are getting pretty mad about stuff. I keep telling them that thing everyone says, "Don't kill the messenger." But I think they suspect that I'm not the messenger. But really, I AM the messenger. I have always been the messenger.