Love and Literacy

Happy to report that I have partied through my last Valentine's Day of my teaching career.

 I  usually steer clear of doom-filled sentiments about how teaching used to be dreamy delightful, and today verges on nightmare, but sometimes facts must be faced.

Valentine's Day in the elementary classroom has taken a concerning plummet down the tubes.

Its whole purpose in years past centered on the cards. Passing them out.  Reading each goofy line of love while munching on candy hearts.   Kids called  out sweet comments across the room like, "Thanks, Scott.  You know I love cats" and "This is so funny, Ally!" If a card was more on the lovey-dovey side, you would see kids smiling, huddling with friends to whisper about possible implications of that simple missive, "BE MINE."

The card meant something back in the day but today's valentine is merely a piece of trash connected to a ring pop  or a package of  "fun dip." Cards, if they exist at all, get gathered up with the candy wrappers and tossed in the recycling bin even though I've told them thousands of times that food wrappings can not be recycled. 

I told #1 Son that I was thinking about writing about this decline.  He said, "You can begin with the title, 'The Day Our Children Forgot How to Love.'"

That's extreme. Which may have been his point. But let's not scoff at the significance of this cultural shift. If we all work together, we might be able to reverse this troubling trend. My message is simple. Let's bring literacy back to the Day of Love.  It's not too late. 

The Olecranon

 Husbandman visits a good bakery on Saturdays, to pick up breakfast pastries and treats for afternoon tea. I usually have a scone and a pecan bar. This Sunday past, he slipped on ice and came down hard on his olecranon, the pointy tip of the elbow. 

X-ray technology showed us that Husbandman's arm suffered an "extensively comminuted fracture of the olecranon process of the proximal left ulna. The main fracture fragment is displaced posterior superiorly by 1.5 cm."  

He had surgery yesterday and now has six screws and a metal plate restoring his shattered elbow to its original form. Good news for Husbandman is that he will not lose use of his triceps. Come to find out, the tricep isn't worth a plugged nickel without the helpful olecranon. 

The best news of all is that Husbandman, in extreme pain and distress, successfully picked up the box of pastries, and delivered them to our home safe and sound.  

The Feelings Check

Like you, I've been feeling feelings as I witness what's happening in Minneapolis and elsewhere. The people there are so incredibly brave.  Feeling:  Awed inspiration.  I then read nothing but hypocrisy and lies from our despicable thuggy government.  Feeling: Raging disgust.  I make phone calls and donate money. Feeling: Slightly diminished powerlessness. (Just a smidge). 

 

A teacher once told me, "Feelings are your best friends."  

In that spirit, I address you, Seething Rage, and invite you in. Please make yourself at home. You can sit and chat with Overwhelming Sadness while I work on e-Learning plans and make another useless call to yell at the greedy heartless folk who run this state. 

The Hoosiers

Challenge:  Can you find this small house in Asheville

Hoosiers are heading to the Natty.  I'm not a football aficionada, but I am a long time fan of happiness and this team has spread the cheer to the people of B-town. We'll take cheer anywhere we can get it at this point. 

IU fans have been through the gosh darned mill. Verily, the pathos of past seasons lingers still in the collective memory. Specific personal examples follow: 

•  #1 Son considering Michigan for college, "If you're going to college, you might as well be at a place with a winning football team."
• Mall shopper sobbing to friend after another loss, "No bowl game?"
• Husbandman's squashing of optimism after a rare victory with, "They played East Overshoe State.  It means nothing." 
• Notre Dame fanatic father asking repeatedly, "What happened to IU?  In the 40s under Bo McMillin they were champions." 

Despite the dismal scores through the winless decades, Hoosier fans have kept on fanning. Tailgating Revelers in RV's travel in from hither, thither and yon for weekends of camp chairs and cornhole, bbq and beverages. Some might wander in to the stadium to watch actual games. I'm not sure.

Read more about the curious phenomenon of the dedicated tailgators here if you feel like it.  Here's an excerpt if you're short on time.

New Year’s Eve is not postponed because of a blizzard. Thanksgiving is not if a grocery store runs out of turkeys. Nor is tailgating abandoned because the home team is in a slump....

In the words of Carmel’s Angie Park, part of three couples who have consistently upgraded their tailgating into a super-sized RV and a restaurant-sized spread of eats over a dozen-year period, “We’ve never lost a tailgate.”

The prolonged "slump" is temporarily over. IU fans travelled down to "Indianta" for the Peach Bowl in droves. Kudos to all the teachers at the compound who went down to represent and help the team get the job done. We were short on subs, but we all have to do our part.  

I hope the Hoosiers win the Natty.  We need this. 

HOO HOO HOO HOOSIERS!

The Resolutions of Danielle deSpare

New year, new me  

2026

 my time 

 to gossip and bad mouth

judge others

watch reality tv nonstop

spend money on things i don't need, can't use

scroll my phone at dinner

limit myself to 1,000 steps

or less 

each day

talk trash and borrow trouble

miss appointments 

roll my eyes

live in fear

hold a grudge

dare the world to

knock the chip

off

my shoulder