Still Wondering...What do I do now?

Friday Morning at the Local ATM

2010-10-05T08:01:00.000-07:00

Friday morning I was second in line at one of the two ATM machines in town. We rarely have a line, but it was the first day of the month, and many people’s checks are deposited then. In front of me a tiny little woman with her hair on top of her head like Pebbles Flintstone was putting her ATM card in the machine over and over. Her car was too far over from the machine, so she had gotten out in order to reach the slot better. Behind me, a guy sat in one of those huge trucks with huge wheels, not an eighteen-wheeler, just an unnecessarily large pick-up. I knew that any minute he was going to get mad because of the wait. Guys in trucks like that get angry quickly.

The lady at the ATM looked at me and waved, mouthing the words, “Help me.” I thought for a second. Well, I know you’re not supposed to get out and walk around at an ATM. The guy behind me might be a thief or a kidnapper or something like that. (On the other hand, big old overweight ladies hardly ever get kidnapped—ever notice that? It’s just too hard to drag them away.) Oh, well. The Pebbles lady would NEVER get finished if someone didn’t help her. I got out and went up to the ATM. Her problem was that she wanted to get out $600, more money than the machine would give at one time. (This is a safety feature built in because of guys like that one in the humongous truck behind me, no doubt.) Putting her card in over and over was not a good thing. I figured that at any moment the machine would rebel and refuse to give the rest of us any money at all; it IS out of order a great deal. The directions for the ATM were right at her eye level, but I am a fairly patient woman. Lots of people, including the students in my former high school English classes, never read anything, much less the directions to what they are working on. I moseyed back to my van and got in, relieved that no one had mugged me on this lovely morning in a small town in Georgia. I thought about how people rarely get mugged here, even though some people do get annoyed. About that time the guy in the truck ran out of patience and ROARED by Miss Pebbles and me, yelling obscenities as he went by. Yep, could have seen that one coming…

Well, she finally got her money. Miss Pebbles waved “Thank you” to me, got in the car, and headed down the road. The guy in the big truck probably got stopped by the local deputies for roaring down historic Main Street unless he is “kin” to all the locals. I pulled on up to the ATM and took my chances on its recently abused computer brain. Life goes on…

Falling Walnuts

2010-09-29T07:10:00.000-07:00

I know that the season has changed to autumn not when the weather people on television tell me so (after all, they are so seldom right), but when my daughters get out their hoodies and the walnuts begin to drop from the trees in our yard. This morning I looked up while I was walking one of the dogs. There was a cluster of eight walnuts directly over us. Now, these things are falling like bombs from the sky. Considering that neither my dog nor I am too strong in the brain department, I figured I’d better move it on out from under that particular branch a little faster than I usually move. I really don’t think I could explain to the neurologist or the veterinarian that we were hit on the head by a cluster of falling walnuts…

Is the Library Closing?

2010-09-28T05:38:00.000-07:00

The other day I received an email stating that as of the following Friday, our little county library would be closed. Someone had commented that the closing of the library was really sad. Another person commented that anyone needing library services could visit the library of the next county.

“What!” I thought. The closing of a small, rural library might not seem like much of a catastrophe to many people, but chaos was breaking loose in my little household. We are the people who not only have five books being currently read, but at least two overdue, one on hold from somewhere from another library in the state, two checked out and loaned to relatives two counties away, plus 40 cents currently owed in overdue fees. Never mind that I know perfectly well how to use my online library account, which shows me the titles of all my books checked out and how many renewals are allowed on each one. It also shows me the 40 cents I owe. Never mind the email I receive every two weeks that tells me I have books due soon. I want the people at the library to tell me IN PERSON.

I KNOW them. I have been talking to them about books for years, and I even taught one of them English literature before I retired. They know I’ll bring my books back in fairly good condition, and that I won’t move away or run off with the books. They know that I’ll admire the art and read the magazines while my daughter browses, if I don’t need anything myself. They know I think it would be a sacrilege to talk on a cell phone while in a library, but I also don’t mind the noise little kids make when their mama brings them into the library. After all, it wasn’t so long ago that I was bringing my own little girls into the library myself. I DON’T WANT TO GO TO THE LIBRARY IN THE NEXT COUNTY.

Luckily, there was a misunderstanding. The library isn’t closing “As of Friday,” but just closing on Fridays from now on, due to budget cuts. Just one day a week, whew. Still, that’s bad enough.

Sunday Morning and My Husband's Gone Fishing...

2010-09-26T05:14:00.000-07:00

I keep waking up at unreasonably early hours on the weekends lately. It's not a school day for my eighth-grade daughter, so why am I up? I make coffee, shuffle around, nearly fall over dog toys, worry about my lack of sleep. Think about my daughter's birthday, the same day as mine, next month. What present will I get her? She was my best birthday present in 1996...Smile as I think about the young man at the hospital desk (he had his feet propped up, and obviously wasn't expecting a very large, pregnant, 40-year-old lady to arrive and say, "The doctor sent me over, my blood pressure is high, and I'm about to have a baby." He moved his feet down quickly...) How did the years pass so quickly?

After the coffee is finished, I get a cup and listen to the noises of the house...

fans

air conditioner

breathing

snoring

a small cough

a dog shuffling the covers into my place in the bed

the refrigerator

a bird outside

our old dog outside wheezing

Well, I don't really have too many worries, I guess. I'll take a nap later. My daughter will be 14 soon, and she's a good kid. It's peaceful here. My coffee's good, and my husband's gone fishing...

What Should I Name My Brain Sacs?

2009-08-08T19:33:00.000-07:00

This is what happened to me about three weeks ago. I was hanging around, procrastinating about picking up the dishes from supper because I was really tired. I had slept only three hours the night before, and not at all the night before that. Anyway, as I picked up a plate, my right arm began to jerk as if I were throwing a Frisbee. The plate flew right out of my hand. My arm was jerking all by itself, out of my control. I told my husband that I was jerking. He told me to sit down, and so I did. That is the last thing I remember. My husband said that I tried to stand back up, and then I grabbed my head and screamed. Then I fell to the floor. My daughter came in from her room; she said that my eyes were rolled back in my head. My husband told her to call 911, so she did. I asked some questions later, like what were the dogs doing when this happened? What did the scream sound like? Bonnie said I sounded like the way people scream when they step on something. Wayne said he had to put Melvin in the bathroom, that both of the dogs were trying to see what was wrong.

The next thing I remember is that I woke up in the ambulance. One of my former students was in there. He said, “Do you remember me?” They always say that! I couldn’t think of his name, though. I said, “You had a brother…”(For 29 years I taught with a gentleman who taught social studies. He and I used to joke that we were afraid we’d wake up in the ambulance and find a former student who failed our class. I think this student passed, but I can’t swear to it.) I don’t remember much else about the ride. It’s so weird not to remember time that passed by.

Eventually, I became aware of being in the emergency room, and finally, that my family was there. Much later, my husband told me that a nurse asked him if I were his mother. That did not please me, needless to say. Then we began waiting and waiting. We got there about 11:00 P.M., and finally I was admitted at around 4 A.M. We finally got into a room at 6:00 A.M.

Wayne took the girls home so they could get some sleep. He came back later on with my younger daughter. Luckily, I made it into a room just in time for some bad hospital food (oatmeal without salt and then because my arm was still jerking a little, I spilled the sugar). Eggs without salt, yuck. I had a number of tests that day, including an EEG and an MRI. During the brain scan, a very nice girl who looked like the blonde on 90210 (Now, what was her name? Tori Spelling) was putting dabs of cold glop on my scalp so that the little sensors could be placed on it. I said, “Don’t I have a big head?” She said, “Well, no bigger than usual…” I said, “Well, I guess you’d be in a position to know.” After all, she apparently does brain scans for a living, right? I finally told her that it is kind of a family joke about my huge skull that few hats will fit. She didn’t know if I were being humorous or not, poor girl. After getting my head set up for the test, she went into the next room and told me through the window to be very still and quiet, lying there in the dark, so naturally I went to sleep. I woke up in a few minutes to hear “Tori Spelling” talking to another girl about what she was seeing on the screen about my brain. This is not a wise method, to talk about the patients within their hearing. One of them said, “Look what I’m seeing!” The other one said, “It’s just on one side!” The one who put the glop on my head said, “That’s epilepsy!” After some further discussion, they decided to call a particular doctor down there, who turned out to be a neurologist. The neurologist was aware that I was awake, but agreed that it looked like epilepsy.

Back in the room, I talked to some of my family on the phone. My mother was somewhat surprised to hear that I had developed epilepsy at the age of 52. Later that afternoon, the neurologist came to the room. He asked me if I knew who he was. I did, of course, having eavesdropped on his conversation that morning. He asked me if I had ever had a seizure before, several times in different ways. I never have. He seemed quite intrigued by all of this.

Finally, they let me go home the next morning, after giving me pills to prevent me from having any more seizures, telling me not to drive for six months, and referring me to a neurologist who doesn’t work in the hospital.
So, I called and made an appointment with this doctor for the following Tuesday.

After being driven to the doctor’s office by my husband, I went into the office. A young man who resembled Palmer, the guy who helps Ducky on NCIS, gave me an examination. I had to follow his finger with my eyes, walk a straight line, have my reflexes checked, etc. I never have had very good balance…Oh, well. I told him all about my hospital experience. Then his boss showed up, a doctor about 32, maybe. He said, “Hello!” So I had to go through the whole thing again. Finally, he said, “There is no doubt that you had a seizure. You have an abnormal brain.” (Allow me to insert here that most of my friends and family will not be surprised to hear this.) “Well, not an abnormal brain, but the fluid that surrounds your brain. You have some extra fluid that is pooling at your temporal lobes. This can cause a seizure. It might be triggered by being really tired. So what I want you to do is to take two of your pills in the morning and two at night, don’t climb on ladders, don’t take baths instead of showers, don’t drive for six months. No heavy lifting. I want to see you here again in about a month.”

As one of my friends says, “Stay off the roof!” I’m trying. People are beginning to ease up; they are no longer watching me to see if I’m going to do anything unusual or go off like a bomb. The pills make me a little groggy, but I already was half asleep normally, because of my insomnia. My mother says she can’t tell the difference.

Wow. Abnormal brain sacs. How weird is that? My older daughter who has a sicko sense of humor (inherited from heaven-only-knows where) says that I should name my brain sacs, giving them their own identities. I might. I am not happy about any of this, especially not being able to drive for six months. Thank God for the internet.

It’s really a good thing I’m not still trying to teach English!

My Daughter Diana at an Earlier Age

2009-08-07T07:27:00.000-07:00

When my daughter Diana was in middle school, one of her teachers gave her a first-day writing assignment for her parents to do. The parent had to describe the child. That was all there was to it, and it was optional. I wrote something, and then our printer would not work. I think I emailed it to the teacher, but I am not sure. I can't imagine how many students told me over the years that their printers would not work. Anyway, my daughter is nearly 20 now, but this is how I described her when she was 13.

Diana at Thirteen

My daughter Diana is an interesting mixture of my characteristics, her father’s, and some of her very own. We are very proud of her.

When she was born thirteen years ago, her daddy called everybody we knew and some people with whom we were barely acquainted. When we went home from the hospital, I couldn’t find anyone he hadn’t already told. Diana was bald-headed, a good sleeper, and an early talker. Her first word was “baby,” and her favorite thing to do was chew on a Raggedy Ann doll’s black cloth feet. She has changed a whole lot since then. She has recently grown a great deal of long hair, she says many more words than “baby,” and I think her favorite things to do now are to draw cartoons, to talk on the phone, and to figure out ways to avoid her little sister. She gets the ability to draw from her daddy. Another favorite thing to do is to go fishing with him. Early in the spring she caught a 30-pound catfish, very ugly in its facial expression but impressive. Her daddy was not quite as excited as he was when Diana was born, but he came close.

I see some of my own characteristics in her. She is usually patient unless pushed too far, does not like to be yelled at by anyone, and observes the world quietly and thoughtfully. She likes to write and hates to see anyone hurt. She loves animals, particularly her dog Melvin (the rare beagle-chihuahua). She likes to read, just as I do, but there is a difference: while I feel lost without a novel somewhere in the house, she can go a while between books. We both love Harry Potter, so she reads the books first, and then I get them. The television program we both enjoy the most is The Gilmore Girls. I see in her the beginnings of that sarcastic sense of humor that gets me in trouble sometimes. Also, neither of us is too concerned about things like clothes and hair styles.

Belonging entirely to her are her sense of responsibility, her independence, and her dependability. Her good grades and academic awards have filled her father, her grandparents, and me with pride. I have never had to worry about whether or not she did her homework. Diana is much more mature than I was at age 13, and she has a greater strength of character. The opinions of others don’t matter much to her when she thinks she is right. While she might get annoyed with her little sister, and while she might be amused by my fear of mice and my forgetfulness, she can become fiercely protective of us when she thinks we need protecting. Her best characteristics are the ones she has grown into on her own.

Twitter Cartoon

2009-07-20T12:24:00.001-07:00

Tim Dorsey's Hurricane Punch

2009-07-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

I try to grab a variety of novels when I visit the public library. Mostly, I like murder mysteries/suspense thrillers, but sometimes I get a story about women’s lives or something new. The other day I grabbed Hurricane Punch by Tim Dorsey. It turns out that Dorsey might be crazy—who could have thought of this plot? It is an insane story about a serial killer and a newspaper reporter in Florida during several hurricanes. It was really amusing in spots. Here are some good quotes (“Serge” is the serial killer):

1. “I celebrated in advance, in case something good happened.” Coleman (Serge’s sidekick)

2. “…I dreaded the thought of getting my own cell, but the cutthroat competition of the wireless industry has created all kinds of offers you can’t refuse. Like mine. This guy set his phone on the counter in Starbucks, and before he knew it, I was halfway down the block…” Serge

3. “Remember the key to life. Always act like you deserve to be here.” Serge

4. “…mental illness is like cholesterol. There’s the good kind and the bad. Without the good kind, less flavor to life. Van Gogh, Beethoven, Edgar Allan Poe, Sylvia Plath, Pink Floyd…scientific breakthroughs, spiritual revelations, utopian visions, zany nationalism that kills millions. Wait, that’s the bad kind.” Serge

It’s great to discover a new, (maybe crazy) author. I checked out another of Dorsey’s books today.

Lines from The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons

2009-06-28T18:21:00.000-07:00

I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons this weekend. It was a thought-provoking movie, a “curious case” indeed. Here are some lines I especially liked.

1. Mrs. Maple: Benjamin, we're meant to lose the people we love. How else would we know how important they are to us?

2. Ngunda Oti: You'll see little man, plenty of times you be alone. You different like us, it's gonna be that way. But I tell you a little secret I find out. We know we alone. Fat people, skinny people, tall people, white people... they just as alone as us... but they scared shitless.

3. Benjamin Button: It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you.

4. Benjamin Button: [Voice over; letter to his daughter] For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

5. Benjamin Button: Along the way you bump into people who make a dent on your life. Some people get struck by lightning. Some are born to sit by a river. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim the English Channel. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers. And some people can dance.

A Quote I Like...

2009-06-09T04:03:00.000-07:00

"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." – CS Lewis

About Buzzards...

2009-05-24T13:41:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week I saw a huge vulture on the side of the road, and it reminded me of something I wrote a couple of years ago (before I had a blog):

March 25, 2007

A disturbing thing happened yesterday. I looked out the bathroom window and saw a large bird, even bigger than these fat cardinals and woodpeckers who fight over the Ol’ Roy dog food Wayne puts out for the dogs. This bird was BIG. Cautiously, it looked around the yard, wary, watching for killer dogs (where were those maniacs?). Pretty in an odd way, its body was covered with black feathers, but its neck and head were free of feathers, making the curve of its neck and head look like a goose or a duck or something. I noticed it had a little hook on the front of its beak; it hooked down. Gradually, I decided that it must be, well, a vulture—a “buzzard” as we say around here. In my backyard? Were all the dogs all right? The bird was trying to drink water out of an orange bucket Wayne had left in the backyard…but there was water in other containers for the dogs nearby. Why not drink there, or in the creek? I went for the camera, which was naturally not charged up. I went outside to see if the buzzard were still there. No…but then I looked up. There it was, high in the walnut tree—definitely a vulture, looking down over the hill, thankfully not over the house. So far up in the tree, it looked just like the cartoon buzzards on Jungle Book.

I see symbols everywhere, literature-teaching woman that I am. A sign of death?
What is it that Mel Gibson’s character says in the movie Signs? "Are you the type of person who sees signs in everything?"

"Creeped me out," as the kids say. Diana came home a little while after that, and we watched Thelma and Louise. When Wayne came home from his mother’s house, I told him about the buzzard and the orange bucket. There were fish guts in there—he cleaned some fish and left the remains in the bucket (I know...ewww). There is always a reasonable explanation-- even a nasty, smelly one-- for unusual events, even signs.

At least I didn’t hear it say "Nevermore."

About Turkish Delight and the Internet...

2009-05-13T17:25:00.000-07:00

Today, my younger daughter said, "Do you know what Turkish Delight is?"

"Nope. It sounds good in books, though."

"I know! It's in Narnia..."

"Yeah, the witch gave it to the boy..."

"I'm going to look it up! I want to know what it is." She settled down at the computer and began to google. She found the recipe, read it through, and said, "Ewwww." Then she looked up all kinds of exotic foods from the links on the recipe site, and tried to pronounce their names aloud, giggling madly. This went on for quite a while.

This is why I love the internet, and Google, and the innate curiosity of kids, and my kid...

Here's a Great Video: Sound of Music, Train Station

2009-05-09T15:19:00.000-07:00

Sound of Music Train Station @ Yahoo! Video

That's the Truth!!!

2009-05-07T20:20:00.000-07:00

"Housekeeping ain't no joke."

Louisa May Alcott

Not very grammatical, but I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT!

My Favorite Poem (Well, one of them!)

2009-04-13T12:36:00.000-07:00

Barter

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up,
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like the curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Sara Teasdale

My New Favorite Poem

2009-03-31T13:14:00.000-07:00

Indian Summer

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

Dorothy Parker

Blue Monday...

2009-03-15T23:08:00.000-07:00

Is on my other blog! http://sheilatsscrapbook.blogspot.com/

Sheila T's Quote of the Day

2009-03-05T15:50:00.000-08:00

“My advice to you is not to

inquire why or whither, but

just to enjoy your ice cream

while it’s on your plate.”

--Thornton Wilder

The Ram and the Fleur-de-lis

2009-02-28T18:53:00.001-08:00

I admit to being a little bit cynical nowadays. It comes with having taught school so many years and with being as old as I am, although some people turn into sweet little old ladies rather than getting more cynical about the sorry state of mankind. I, however, have been disillusioned so many times. I should know better.

I wait each day in the parent pick-up (PPU) line for my daughter, the twelve-year-old. If a parent is too late, the line will stretch endlessly ahead, her vehicle might even be in the street rather than the school’s carefully designed driveway, and the child will be nearly the last one called (trauma). If a parent is too early, she is doomed to sit there for 45 minutes, studying the brave parents who zoom up to the door, leap athletically out of the car, and go on in the office to DEMAND the child from these education bureaucrats, and bustle back to get in the car and ZOOM away. I, so far, have been too lacking in bustle to zip in and demand my daughter’s presence at 3:05 with only a few minutes left before the bell. I am bored entirely out of my mind, though. I have closely examined everything there is to observe about the front of the school. I usually bring a book, but I have dozed off twice while waiting. This napping is hazardous and leads to other parents having to peer in the window to discover me sleeping while serving my time in the parent pick-up line—a somewhat embarrassing situation. I have tried in vain to find something interesting to look at in the dreary school environment. The boys who are somehow privileged to come out and bring down the flag? (The same boys every day? And are there no flag girls?) Once, I brought our dog Melvin with me to relieve the dullness. He went off into his Melvin Crazyland and barked his fool head off at everyone walking up and down the sidewalk, guarding me with all his twenty-five pounds of beagle-chihuahua (Cheagle?) fierceness. Well, at least I wasn’t asleep that day.

Anyway, I have looked at all the cars in the line at one time or another, looking at the back and reading the letters on the license tags. Sometimes they actually spell something! So one day I was behind a neat little pickup truck, and I noticed that it had the cutest taillights! “That looks like a fleur-de-lis!” I thought happily. “How cute! Maybe there will be a whole bunch of new designs for taillights. Like hearts, or unicorns, or butterflies, or daisies, or your initials, one on each side! Hmmm!”

See, it’s a good idea, right? Maybe I should patent it. Anyway, a couple of weeks later my husband was with me in the parent pick-up line, and I pointed out these “cute” taillights. He said, “That’s a ram, not a flower. It’s a Dodge taillight cover. That’s a Dodge ram.” What? I was very distressed, because now, when I look at the lights, I can’t help but see the ram instead of the fleur-de-lis. Dog gone it. Stuff like this is enough to make anyone cynical, I swear.

About Republican Governors and Such...

2009-02-24T19:45:00.000-08:00

Quotes of the Day: www.Time.com

(Sound like anyone we know?)

Monday, Feb. 23, 2009

It's a little late for Republican governors to get high-minded about accepting federal dollars.

BRIAN SCHWEITZER,
Montana Governor and a Democrat, criticizing Republican governors Bobby Jindal of Louisiana and Haley Barbour of Mississippi for rejecting incentives to expand unemployment insurance

Quotation from George Eliot

2009-02-21T08:57:00.000-08:00

"It is never too late to become what you might have been."

--George Eliot

Have You Read My Blog Yet?

2009-02-19T15:45:00.000-08:00

Good Advice from a 9-Year-Old

2009-02-17T16:55:00.000-08:00

Quotes of the Day (Time.com)

“I say, Life is hard, move on. If you can't get over it, it's ruined.”

ALEC GREVEN,
the 9-year-old author of How to Talk to Girls, on being dumped. The young love guru offers romantic advice in his New York Times best-selling book

The Truth about Grade Inflation

2009-02-15T16:28:00.000-08:00

As usual, the Ruraltown News was eager to plaster a negative article about the public schools on the front page this week. “Grade inflation” at Ruraltown High School “appears to be a problem, according to a recently released state report.” This study was done by Christopher Clark of the Department of Economics and Finance at Georgia College and State University. Mr. Clark compared End-of-Course Test (EOCT) scores with students’ final grades in the class. Quite a few students who failed the EOCT for a given class passed that class; a few who failed the EOCT even made an A or a B.

Most educators know that a standardized test gives evidence of what a student knows at a particular moment in time. While useful, the scores should not be given too much credence. Who knows what factors may be causing a particular student to score as he or she does? Maybe the student did not get enough sleep, breakfast, affection, or Mountain Dew. (Mountain Dew is the addictive elixir of life for high school students who are capable of smuggling a gallon jug of it into class under an armpit.) Maybe the student copied someone’s EOCT answers, and that person had a different version of the test. Believe me, any of these is possible.

Mr. Clark seems blissfully unaware of the variables that may affect standardized test results. He also apparently has no clue that the state mandated that the EOCT can only count as 15 percent of the student’s final grade. Now, I never taught math, but I am aware that 85 percent is, well, larger than 15 percent. The 85 percent is usually a cumulative average of the student’s grades from the 18 weeks of classroom attendance in a semester. The instructors from the State Department of Education who indoctrinated teachers in the art of “unpacking” the Georgia Standards for Language Arts placed great emphasis on the idea that a variety of assessments should be used to evaluate a student’s learning. There was a definite lack of emphasis on multiple-choice testing, such as the questions on the EOCT. Instead, the 85 percent block of the grade should come mainly from projects, presentations, written assignments, and research. The idea is that the student’s real understanding of the material is better evaluated by these assessments. (“Unpacking” suggests that the new standards are weighty or, perhaps, heavily loaded. Believe me, they are.)

No grade “inflation” occurred. Hopefully, assessments done during the 18 weeks of the class are a more accurate reflection of the student’s real understanding than a standardized test taken reluctantly during one spring morning. Mr. Clark doesn’t know some basic math: 85% >15%. Maybe some ego inflation occurred when a researcher was overeager to discover negative information about the public schools, and when a newspaper writer was eager to report negative information in a front-page story with cute little graphs. Maybe Mr. Clark should find another focus for Georgia State’s Department of Economics and Finance: I hear Sonny Perdue could use some help balancing the budget.

A Great Quote

2009-02-14T21:30:00.000-08:00

"Hell is full of musical amateurs."
-- George Bernard Shaw

(George must have attended a middle school band concert or two!)

Some Different Hearts

2009-02-14T18:39:00.001-08:00

I copied this design from the internet last year when I was making a bookmark for Diana! I liked the black frame.

Happy Valentines Day

2009-02-13T19:31:00.001-08:00

Make a Smilebox greeting

Giant Snake!

2009-02-12T13:17:00.000-08:00

(Wednesday, Feb. 04, 2009)

Quote of the Day from Time

(www.time.com)

“It could easily eat something the size of a cow. A human would just be toast immediately.”

JACK CONRAD,
a snake expert, after fossils from northeastern Colombia revealed the biggest snake ever discovered: 42 to 45 feet long, reaching more than 2,500 pounds

Well, I have watched too many terrible snake movies on Sci Fi! This gave me vivid images for my bad dreams. Ewwwwwwww.

About retirement...

2009-02-11T13:58:00.000-08:00

"How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then to rest afterward."
-- Spanish Proverb

Bumper Stickers

2009-02-10T17:41:00.000-08:00

My daughter has driven two cars in the past year or so. Both have some very revealing bumper stickers. What do you think of them?

To Achieve True Inner Peace

2009-02-05T14:45:00.000-08:00

"My therapist told me the way to achieve true inner peace is to
finish what I start. So far I've finished two bags of M&M's and
a chocolate cake. I feel better already."

-- Dave Barry

About your madness...

2009-01-31T18:55:00.000-08:00

“You're only given a little

spark of madness. You

mustn't lose it.”

- Robin Williams

When Three Old Friends Get Together Again...

2009-01-25T10:39:00.000-08:00

When three old friends get together—

What do you say to someone you used to know really well, friend and roommate, after a couple of decades have passed by?

“Well, I’m still married!” (We are all still married to the only guys we ever married. That’s a shocker, actually. Never would have guessed us to be the ones destined for monogamy.)

“I guess we should talk about our ailments!” Yeah, we’ve got some. They’ve both had knee surgery; one has had back surgery; one has had a hysterectomy. Menopause wasn’t a happy time, but we’re all through it, even though we’re only 52. Me, I’ve got mild arthritis and major insomnia, high blood pressure and sinus problems. Getting older is still a surprise to me.

”I don’t party like it’s 1974 anymore.” Well, no. It seems silly, somehow. I’d just sleep through it if I tried to.

We compared our pets, our children, our parents, our grandchildren and step-grandchildren, and our siblings. We compared our jobs or lack of—two out of three retired. We compared our lack of money, although I suspect that my lack of money is closer to poverty.

We remembered moments from back in the day—how’d those three girls get to this point? When we dreamed about the future, we never dreamed about hysterectomies, arthritis, our kids moving out, our hair turning gray…

We’re still the same, though—we talked, and we laughed. We laughed a lot. We always did.

We’re hoping to get together again next month!

Inauguration Humor

2009-01-24T20:51:00.001-08:00

I have high hopes for our new president, but I did think this cartoon was funny!

A Quote from Einstein

2009-01-21T19:06:00.000-08:00

Edgar Allan Poe's Birthday and Other Madness

2009-01-19T12:20:00.000-08:00

Of course today we are honoring Martin Luther King, Jr.'s life. Another cause for celebration is the fact that January 19, 1809, was Poe's birthday! I told my daughter Diana that today is Poe's birthday, and she said, "The Teletubby?" Well, no, not that Po.

My father used to recite random bits of poetry to us when we were little, and one of the things he used to recite was a section of "The Raven." When Diana was little, in the grocery store I would say, "'Twas a-----, Nevermore!" and she'd excitedly scream, "Raisin!" She wasn't old enough to be acquainted with ravens. When she said that, I always envisioned one of those California animated raisins from the eighties knocking on the chamber door.

Enough of this madness.

Here's the first stanza of "The Raven":

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this and nothing more."

One Very Long Day 19 Years Ago...

2009-01-18T17:12:00.000-08:00

On January 17, 1990, I wandered into the obstetrician’s office for a checkup. The baby was supposed to have been born already, but it had not come yet. I was tired, and I didn’t know it, but 19 years of insomnia had begun for me. I was humongous and uncomfortable, but glad to be free from teaching. I had begun my maternity leave, feeling sure the baby would come soon.

The doctor checked me over and said that my blood pressure was too high. I wasn’t in labor or anything. He sent me to check in to the hospital. I drove over to the hospital, parked, and moseyed in the front door. At the desk, I told a young man who had been sitting with his feet propped up, that the doctor’s office told me to come on over to the hospital to have a baby. I was pretty calm, but the young man was no longer calm. He jumped to his feet, ordered a wheelchair, put my humongous self in the chair, and tried to find a room. No rooms were available, so I soon found myself in the VIP suite. This was exciting. I lay down on the bed, still wearing my jeans, and began calling people.

Eventually, my husband arrived, along with my mother-in-law and several members of my husband’s family. They thought I was in labor. Since I was in the VIP suite, there was a couch and a number of chairs for all of these visitors. Realizing I wasn’t in labor or anything, everyone calmed down quite a bit.

At some point, the doctor came along, and I finally learned that they were going to induce labor in the morning. I didn’t know if the baby was a girl or a boy yet. I was going to name it Zachary Wayne if a boy, Diana Jean if a girl. I called my mama and told her that they were going to induce labor at 6:00 AM in the morning on January 18.

Mama got Daddy up at 4:00 AM so they could journey to the hospital. When they got there, nothing was happening. Inducing labor didn’t work. This kid did NOT want to come out! (She's always been pretty stubborn.) Daddy wouldn’t come back into the labor room, but he talked to me on the phone: “How about some action in there?” I said, “I know! Nothing’s happening!” A very long day went by, a day so long that the hungry doctor ordered pizza for himself. Finally, about 7:00 PM, Diana Jean was born by C-section. She was only 13 hours late! Her daddy called everybody in the natural world to announce her birth; he was very excited. I couldn’t believe I had a baby. Although I was 34 years old, I somehow didn't feel exactly qualified for motherhood.

All of this happened one very long day 19 years ago. Although they kicked us out of the VIP suite after delivery, Miss Diana Jean will always be a VIP.

What kind of flower are you?

2009-01-10T17:42:00.000-08:00

I am a
Canna

What Flower
Are You?

Time's Quote of the Day

2009-01-06T08:45:00.000-08:00

You can go back to your — what do you call it? — your Google and you figure out all that.

GEORGE BUSH SR.,refusing to answer questions about his son's failures as President

A Great Quote from a Friend's Email

2009-01-05T19:53:00.000-08:00

"I hope this is this best year of your life.
I wish that for all of us."

(Wasn't that a nice wish? She's so sweet.)

My New Blog

2009-01-02T18:22:00.000-08:00

I need to finish putting away the Christmas ornaments, and finish sorting out old clothes to send to my step-grandchildren, and fold the laundry, and wash some more laundry, etc. Instead, I have been setting up a second blog! I have read a couple of photo sites (well, looked at the pictures!), and decided I need to have a blog for my pictures. I am not quite ready to commit to "a photo a day" as many of the bloggers do, but I will try. I also want to scan some of my scrapbook pages and put them on. We'll see how well it goes. The other blog is http://sheilatsscrapbook.blogspot.com. I have posted a couple of photos on there for yesterday and today.

Look What I Found for Your "Marvelous Journey"

2009-01-01T06:21:00.000-08:00

A great poem read by Sean Connery! (After the poem below, there's a video with him reading ).

ITHACA, by C.P. Cavafy [1910, 1911]
As you set out for Ithaca
hope that your journey is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare sensasion
touches your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope that your journey is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and learn again from those who know.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so that you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.
Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would have not set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Art on December 27

2008-12-27T19:10:00.000-08:00

Better late than never! Here is my daughter's angel design, and then there is a another image I just liked from an interesting art site, http://ffffound.com/:

Stolen from someone else's blog...

2008-11-30T14:04:00.000-08:00

"Remember, half the people you know are below average."

I Never Saw That Before!

2008-11-29T18:15:00.001-08:00

I went to the North Georgia mountains for Thanksgiving. Like the turkey, I was stuffed when it was over—full of food and unwanted advice, as usual.

I go up there twice a month, so the drive is a familiar one. I am frequently bored by the scenery, since I have been driving the same road since I was student teaching in 1977. Hubby doesn’t usually go with me, since my mother doesn’t like him much, but my daughters are often in the car, either asleep or with their ears full of music. If I do happen to see something unusual, they are incommunicado, so it is a good thing I have this blog now. I can share the rare and unusual sights I might see. A while back I noticed a huge metal sculpture of (a)a huge insect (b)a triceratops (C)a dragon. It stands before an antiques and folk art place on the right as we go out of Gainesville, and it is one such sight. What inspired a person to make this thing?

Once, a humongous praying mantis hit my windshield, and green guts reminiscent of guacamole covered the windshield. Naturally, if something so wonderfully gross occurred, both girls were asleep. I had to turn on the windshield wipers to clear the glass, and they missed it. That was before I got a phone with a camera, unfortunately.

Anyway, this time I noticed a house about halfway up the road to Dawsonville with seven or eight dead crows hanging on branches all around a big tree in the front yard. How weird is that? There’s a certain amount of deliberate and macabre action involved here. First, a person would have to kill the crows. Then, he or she would have to tie strings on their little black corpses, and then contrive a way to tie them at regular intervals on the branches of the big tree. Why?

On the way back home today, I watched for the dead crow house, and made my daughters look at this unusual yard art. I did this so I would have confirmation, since there are people who would believe I made up the whole thing. A little too admiringly, Older Daughter said, “It’s like a cult thing or something!” It was weird enough so that even I, usually an intrepid photographer, was unwilling to stop and take a picture. What if they looked out the window?

Thank goodness for Google! I found some info on the internet about this hanging up of crow cadavers. Apparently, in “the southern Appalachians,” some people hang up a dead crow to warn off other crows, literally a “scarecrow.” Whoever lives in the dead crow house needs to realize that seven or eight hanging symmetrically around the tree is surely OVERKILL.

Never mind that I grew up in “the southern Appalachians”… I never saw THAT before!

Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving and that sometime this week, you see something that you never saw before!

"A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it." - --John Steinbeck

My Dog Rambler

2008-11-16T16:33:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of my dog Rambler. He was the dog I had from ages 10 to 23, approximately. He was supposed to be my brother's dog, but Rambler and I knew better. He smelled bad because he would not let us give him a bath--as soon as we soaped him up, he would run off to the river. His was a true and solid love. I still miss him.

"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went."
-- Mark Twain

Quote of the Week from the News

2008-11-14T19:42:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday, Charles, but long may the queen reign over us.

THE DAILY MIRROR,
a British newspaper, on Prince Charles' 60th birthday; for many Britons, the prince remains second to 82-year-old Queen Elizabeth II

from Time magazine's Quote of the Day

Overheard at Our House This Evening

2008-11-10T19:08:00.000-08:00

“Today I had to draw my dream house in Enrichment. I’ll show it to you.”

“What is wrong with this dog? Every other dog I’ve ever seen would have gobbled that down. He smells of it and looks at it like he can’t imagine eating such a thing. He’s a picky dog.”

“Oh, no. It’s a wrestling night.”

“What is that dog chewing on now?”

“I notice that the dogs have their own wings in your dream house. The dogs and your purple desk in the window are the only things the dream house has in common with your real house. Well, and the fields around the house…”

“If you fail algebra and lose your HOPE scholarship, you might not have enough tuition money for next semester…”

“I’m going to move in with my friend. And her boyfriend. And maybe another friend…”

“Can I get a middle school class ring?”

“No wonder this dog gets sick all the time. He keeps eating pieces of plastic!”

“I made a 100, a 70, and a 90 on my three tests in Ag. It was soil judging.”

“Ew! You sneezed right in my plate! Thanks a lot!”

“Did that dog chew up my flip-flop?”

“Why does Ray Mysterio wear a mask all the time?”

“Good night, Daddy, I love you. Good night, Mama, I love you.”

Younger Daughter's Dream House

2008-11-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

Quote of the Day; Words to Live By?

2008-10-31T18:24:00.000-07:00

Friday, Oct. 31, 2008

You can be joyous; you cannot be a jackass.

PHILADELPHIA MAYOR MICHAEL NUTTER,
Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter, on celebrations for the World Series winning-Philadelphia Phillies

(From Time Magazine's Quotes of the Day: http://www.time.com/time/quotes)

Free coffee!

2008-10-31T06:23:00.000-07:00

I'd Vote for Either One of These Guys!

2008-10-26T13:26:00.001-07:00

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Elementary School Education & Memory

2008-10-19T21:53:00.000-07:00

more music charts

I love these graphs on Graphjam.

C'mon--everyone needs fashion advice!

2008-10-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

Well, I had lunch yesterday with some of my former colleagues! That was great fun. I listened to the standard high-school-English-teacher complaining about the crazy, lazy students. Our school didn't meet AYP because of our low graduation rate, so that is the current focus. I always felt that the problem was, the kids don't care whether they do all right or not. They don't do any work; the teachers and parents scramble around trying to figure out a way to manipulate them into doing some work; they don't pass; parents and administrators ask questions; the teacher must complete forms and explain why all of these kids are failing...it is an endless, nonproductive circle. When it's over, you have a "graduate" who doesn't know where to put a comma or who in the world Ernest Hemingway was. This is why I was so burned out by my twenty-fifth year.

Anyway, now I don't have to worry about it anymore, but my friends are still fighting the good fight. I get to go to lunch with them WEARING ONE EARRING, and, in honor of my crazy-old-ladyhood, no one told me I was wearing only one earring. Big old silver hoops, too--not easy to miss.

I betcha neither Sarah Palin nor Paris Hilton gets to go out with only one earring! This gets me to the point of my title: Everyone needs fashion advice! See:

Quote of the Day: Paris Hilton's Advice to Sarah Palin

"My advice to Sarah Palin is, you've got a hot bod; don't keep it to yourself. Why wear a pantsuit when you can wear a swimsuit? Welcome to the Lower 48, girlfriend."
--- Paris Hilton gives fashion advice to Republican V.P. nominee and Alaska governor, Sarah Palin, in the new issue of Harper's Bazaar

I'm thinking about sending Paris an email to see if she can help me.

The VP Debate on SNL

2008-10-06T05:36:00.000-07:00

I really don't know how much the comedians on television affect voters, but I do know that I LOVE it when they have such great inspiration as they have had lately. Everybody's probably seen this by now, but if not, here it is for you. I betcha you will enjoy it (wink).

I'm pretty sure I only have one house...

2008-08-25T07:25:00.000-07:00

Ringtones, Alice, and Conway

2008-08-21T19:48:00.000-07:00

The cell phones my husband recently chose for us were the ones with “The Network” (if I turned around and saw all those people following me around, I’d head for the hills). This means that all four of my immediate family members, as well as some other relatives and friends, are able to call and text me “free.” Modern technology is so wonderful! The next step for me was that I had to decide on ringtones for the people who call me frequently. This way, I can tell who is calling before I fall and trip on my way to get the phone I left on a distant piece of furniture, in the car, in my pocket yesterday, etc. Still, the act of choosing a ringtone required quite a bit of thought and character analysis. After all, why just choose any old song when one can choose just the right song that is descriptive or especially appropriate for the person? This is how I do things: I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to decide, and thought and thought and thought about it.

Hubby has always been a Conway Twitty fan, so I chose “Hello, Darlin’.” Most of the time this cell phone thing has not disturbed me too much, since I tend to leave the phone somewhere quite often and because, in my elderly state, I cannot deal with loud, sudden noises. The volume is always set fairly low. Still, when we were in the book store the other day, some old guy grinned at me when Conway began singing “Hello, Darlin’—Nice to see you. It’s been a long time…”from the depths of my purse.

Next, Older Daughter, who is easily my most frequent caller, was difficult to consider in terms of song lyrics. I finally chose Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman”; she and her friends, much to my surprise, did not really know this song. They do now; sometimes, when we are talking on the phone, I say, “But are you strong? Are you invincible?” She IS Woman—except when she needs money, somebody hurts her feelings, or she wants her laundry done for tomorrow. Hear her roar.

Younger daughter rings to Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” She does just “wanna” have fun, but she, at the age of eleven, is still much more solemn than I have ever been in my life. I can’t help it.

I thought about my other family members. My little brother (he’s 47) has always been quite a hairy lad. (Once a beauty shop worker was cutting his hair; she had to ask her boss where to stop cutting.) He doesn’t usually call on my cell, but I gave him a ringtone anyway. “Werewolves of London” has always been one of my favorite songs because I get to howl while singing it. (The women in my family are pretty hairy, too, but we won’t discuss that right now.)

My woolly brother’s wife has the happy name of “Joy.” I gave her, “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night, although she never calls me. Bless her heart—I have told her that I can’t help being related to my brother, but she CHOSE him. This information usually doesn’t help with whatever situation is going on.

My mama calls me once a week, usually, or I call her. She rings in to another Three Dog Night classic, “Mama Told Me (Not to Come).” She does usually try to tell me what to do, whether I want her to or not. I’d be amazed if she called me on my cell; she doesn’t really think they should be used unless one’s engine blows up or something.

The default ringtone for everyone else is “School’s Out” by Alice Cooper. That’s the theme song for my life right now. There’s been a miniature Alice Cooper in the back of my brain every May for the last five or six years, singing “School’s out for summer! School’s out forever!” Yep. It is.

Bigfoot in North Georgia?

2008-08-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

Okay, I would like to say something right now. I grew up in the North Georgia mountains, out in the woods. I played in the woods and wandered around picking huckleberries with two dogs and a cat for company. Let me tell you something—I am going to be very annoyed if there turns out to be a big old family of Bigfeet (well, what is the plural of Bigfoot?) up there, and I NEVER SAW A SINGLE ONE!!!!!!!! Just where were these beasties when I was out in the woods talking to myself and trying to keep our Scottish terrier Miss Peabody from eating the huckleberries right off the bushes? I do have to admit, though, that I am awfully nearsighted. That oak tree just might have been Harry, I guess.

Also, what is up with the DNA samples these guys supposedly took? POSSUM????? Now when I moved to my current residence in the kudzu wilderness between Ruraltown and Nowhereville, my husband and I were feeding our dogs Purina Dog Chow. We didn’t have any kids yet, and we were out to get that Hi Pro Glow or whatever. (Now that we are poor and have two kids, we switched to Ol’ Roy. I haven’t seen any possums eating it, but we have some fifty-pound blue jays out there. They love it.) One night I heard a noise out on the porch, and when I looked out there, I saw the biggest possum in the world. He was humongous. He definitely had that healthy Purina glow about him, all right. I bet he weighed at least thirty pounds, and he was chowing down. He very well might have been a first cousin or something of Bigfoot, now that I think about it.

I can’t wait to find out more about the discovery these two hunters made in North Georgia. I’d really like to know for sure. The next time I visit my mother up there, I’m going to walk around in the woods a little bit and just check things out, wearing my bifocals.

Saturday Quotation

2008-08-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

"Right now I'm having
amnesia and deja vu at
the same time. I think

I've forgotten this before."

by Steven Wright

Retirement To Do List

2008-08-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

I have a group of friends called the Marigolds--we mostly go out to eat once a month, although once in a while we do something else. We don't wear hats of any particular color or do any good works as a group, but we do talk a lot. They are nurses and social workers, and they are great at their jobs, doing their good works at work. Not a one of them has a retirement plan, so they say they'll just have to work forever. I am not gifted in the area of finance, and I know perfectly well that I would have no retirement plan if the state didn't just automatically put public school teachers into the one we have. Left to my own devices, I'd probably be living in a cardboard box. Anyway, the Marigolds are astonished that one of their number just hangs around all day (they were astonished enough by the summer vacation teachers get every year). These ladies are making plans for me to come clean and cook at their houses, since obviously I have nothing else to do. (Most of them have never been to my abode, and so have little notion of how alien the idea of dusting is to me.) They gave me a pack of retirement cards and some other great stuff for retirement. The cards have jokes on them such as the "to do list" at the right.

I couldn't really see much difference in this list and my real list...I mean, what's funny about that?
You know, it's kind of like those redneck jokes by Jeff Foxworthy; the humor is a little too close to life as I know it.

For the English Department...

2008-08-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

Today was the second day of preplanning for the teachers at my school. Yesterday I was on my way to pick up a new wireless router so Older Daughter could use her new laptop. Our journey took us by the high school—yep, there were all of their cars, poor things. Preplanning = hours of meetings and introductions + the fun of seeing everyone again after the summer + going out to lunch. How was that ethics video this year? Is the internet working for you? Has a mindless tech person said,”Opps, we know that the internet isn’t working! Don’t email ME about it!” yet?

Today, I met the English Department for lunch at Cracker Barrel. Here is what I have decided about retirement: it’s the same as summer vacation, except that it goes on and on! So I get the good stuff without the meetings and the mind-numbing inspirational speeches. Hooray!

These teachers watched videos about using more technology in their classes. There’s just a little irony in that. I guess the projector was working today, hmmm.

If I won the lottery, I would give the English Department and the Foreign Language Department (that’s you, J.), a bunch of my money. They wouldn’t have to steal the Gator from the Ag. Department; they could buy their own Gator! Also, they could get all the paper they want without having to beg or sing and dance, hire someone to make all the copies they need on their own copy machine, get ENOUGH books and DVD players, and afford, oh yeah, WINE WITH LUNCH!!!!! Plus fancy coffee for all! AND they could pay Patsy to cater lunch for them, too, if she wants to!

Well, I’ve never actually bought a lottery ticket. I don’t have any deeply moral misgivings about the lottery; I just don’t know how to do it. I need to keep learning new things, though. I’ll get right on it! (Y’all just hang on until I figure it out.)

A Sad Story about Poe and Roscoe...

2008-07-30T16:25:00.000-07:00

Look at this picture closely. Yes, that is a bobblehead of Edgar Allan Poe! My daughter gave him to me for my birthday, and I kept him in my classroom for the last two years. I had to defend him from vandals from time to time, and explain once that "No, this is not a bobblehead of Hitler!" He was FINE when I packed up my stuff and retired. He is NOT fine now. His NOSE IS GONE!

Now, look at this second picture closely. This is Roscoe. He is mostly beagle, although he is somewhat long-legged for a beagle. He chews plastic clothes hangers, dog biscuits, our other dog, shoes, socks, people, baskets, etc. He was hanging around when I discovered Poe in the floor without a nose, but he looked innocent, just as he does in this picture. WHO, ME? He never looks as if he would dream of chewing up anything. Yeah, right. This innocent puppy-face has accomplished what 300 juniors and seniors going in and out of my classroom for two years could not--HE DEFINITELY TOUCHED THE BOBBLEHEAD!

I have another bobblehead, one of Shakespeare. I placed Will high on the bookcase, where he belongs. Roscoe will not get a chance to gnaw on the Bard!

Is this dog innocent? NEVERMORE!

A Great Quote

2008-07-21T15:37:00.000-07:00

"I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming....suddenly you find--at the age of 50, say--that a whole new life has opened before you."

by Agatha Christie

(Isn't that a great quote? It's true, too.)

(Dis)Orientation

2008-07-19T15:47:00.000-07:00

Today I attended my daughter's college orientation with her. The college folks separated the parents and the kids, so we attended separate sessions. The gentleman in charge said that when the new students were given their orientation packets, the first thing they did was hand the packets to their parents to hold. There were smiles of recognition all around. Yep, they aren't all that independent, are they? I remembered proudly that MY child did not hand me hers, that in fact she was reluctant to let me look at it.

After the session was over, we were told to go to the student center and meet up with our children. It was quite a warm day, and I didn't realize I was going to be marching all over campus! Anyway, I took a wrong turn and ended up at the car. I decided it would be a good plan to drive to the student center, so that is what I did. I waited about half an hour, and finally, there she was. What was the first thing she did? (Well, after saying, "Where have you been?")

She handed me her packet of orientation materials. Yup.

A Wordle of My Favorite Poems and Poets

2008-07-09T19:52:00.000-07:00

Here's something fun: http://wordle.net/

Wisdom

2008-07-09T18:43:00.001-07:00

I took my eighteen-year-old daughter to consult with an oral surgeon about having her four impacted wisdom teeth removed. He said that eighteen is the usual age for it, the "age of wisdom." He used "air quotes" on the phrase; afraid I think so, too. How come when you're eighteen you feel so wise, but other people don't think you are?

Is fifty-one years of age the age of wisdom?

Anyway, I remember getting my wisdom teeth removed. We had to drive about an hour and a half because my hometown was so far away from real civilization. Half the way home, my mother stopped to get me something to drink so I could take my pain medicine. My mouth was full of yuck, so I had to spit, much to her dismay. She was saying, "Don't spit here!" and I opened the door and spat all over the store parking lot. What else can you do? I guess she was worried about the people who would drive up next, but who cares?

Just think, I was at least 24 and had already begun teaching English, way past the age of wisdom.

Terrific Tuesday

2008-07-08T08:30:00.000-07:00

Just three questions! Change the answers for you.
Who would you like to see on a new banknote (dollar bill, etc.)? Virginia Woolf

If you were reincarnated as some other plant or animal, what would it be? One of my descendants' dogs

If you owned your own restaurant, what would you call it? "What's for Supper?"

A video to explain about dead parrots....

2008-06-19T15:42:00.000-07:00

About dead parrots...

2008-06-19T15:40:00.001-07:00

more graph humor and song chart memes

Election Year

2008-06-07T18:05:00.000-07:00

In 1968, I had just turned 12, and my grandmother took me with her to vote. I'm not sure of her purposes--maybe she wanted me to see a woman voting, maybe she just had me along to carry the stuff she bought shopping, maybe she just wanted my company--but into the booth I went with her. There was a curtain, and of course the ballot was printed on a piece of paper. My grandmother was sure of herself. Her hand went straight to the Democrat side, and she marked "Hubert Humphrey" for president instead of "Richard Nixon" on the Republican side. She smiled at me and said, "Don't tell anyone."

This was my tiny, bustling grandmother, who wasn't quite five feet tall, and who made apple pies of such splendor that I still love apple pies of any sort today. She also had some giant Hershey bars hidden in her kitchen cabinet to sneak to chocolate lovers such as me. She had a great deal of energy, and she raised six children. She took care of my grandpa and the cat and any grandchildren who happened to visit. Her husband, my grandfather, was a staunch Republican. So was my father, her son, until late in his life.

Well, I never told anyone for many years. I have thought of it a few times, especially lately.

I really hate that Hillary didn't win the nomination.

Funny...

2008-05-30T20:52:00.000-07:00

Well, one thing I can do now is spend more time on the internet! I found this site: http://graphjam.com/. Very funny. I can't figure out how to copy one of the graphs onto this blog, bu I'm working on it.

Finally, the last day...

2008-05-29T18:32:00.000-07:00

Today was my last day!! An old friend who is a retired teacher came to help me finish cleaning out everything. I probably never would have gotten finished, otherwise. We went out to eat lunch instead of going to the official school cookout. Then, I went back to attend the county-wide reception for retirees. Well, here’s how that went.

First, teachers from the primary school and their principal went up. The principal talked a long time about the merits of these teachers. The teachers cried. Some other teachers in the audience spoke up about the merits of these teachers. Some more people cried. The elementary school principal then went up. Only one teacher was retiring from there. The principal and the teacher cried. You get the picture.

Next up, the middle school principal is a very tall man who, fortunately, did not cry. However, the retirees and some audience members did cry. Finally, it was time for the high school. By this time, I was getting very restless. Too much crying going on, speeches going on too long, etc. When my assistant principal went up, I said, “You aren’t going to cry, are you???” Then some stories were told about the time I wore my dress backwards to the stage on honors night. Then someone admitted to rolling my yard one night a long time ago, and thanked me for not letting my husband shoot her. Anyhow, NOBODY CRIED during my time. THANK GOODNESS. I received a nice glass apple with my name on the back and some money. I grabbed my daughter and hit the road. My family and I went to Target and out to eat, so I spent the money. I am now AT HOME. I have no big old pile of papers to grade and no lessons to plan. I might feel a little left out in the fall when school starts back, but right now I am feeling damn good! This calls for a happy dance!

A chocolate bar, a jug of wine, and thou...

2008-05-28T18:57:00.000-07:00

Today was a long day. I finally managed to get my checkout sheet initialed by all the appropriate people. This, even though I was thrown out of the office because I was questioning why we needed to print out grades and absences from the first semester when the office people could get them from the computer. No one knew how to get PowerGrade to print out reports from the first semester with grades and absences on them. Our records clerk emailed them to everyone so we would have them. I said, "Let me be sure I understand this. I'm going back down to my room to print out something you already have?" The AP said, "She doesn't already have it." I said, "Well, if she emailed it to me a minute ago, she has it." They all laughed and said, "Just get out! Get out of the office, Mrs. About -to-Retire!" I went to lunch with people from my hall (that part was cool). My friend gave me a bottle of wine and a chocolate bar as a retirement gift! My friend who teaches Spanish wasn't at school, since her daughter was having a baby. My DD helped me throw out workbooks and such, then she got bored. I imagine it was a really long day for her. Age 11 is not an ideal age to spend hanging about in empty school rooms. She did work really hard.

About today...

2008-05-27T18:48:00.000-07:00

Today is the day my father passed away last year. This has been in the back of my mind all day. I have been having trouble with my emotions because I just always imagined he would be here when my older daughter graduated and that he would be here when I retired. He isn't here. I have a really difficult time talking about it, especially to my brother and my mother. He just isn't here. It was the worst thing I have ever experienced, I am far from over it, and here it is, a year later. We've gone through a father's day, his birthday, my younger daughter's and my birthday (it's on the same date), Christmas, New Year's, his and mama's anniversary, Valentine's Day, my brother's birthday, my mother's birthday, my niece's birthday, Easter, Mother's Day, and now, the year has come around again. Life does go on.

The picture is one of my favorites, when Daddy graduated from college when I was not-quite-two.

Because old ladies ROCK!

2008-05-27T17:36:00.000-07:00

Today was a reception for my retirement. I have spent thirty years at this school. I freely admit that I am "burned out." Anyway, the social studies teacher who taught next door to me for 29 years came, and everyone still at the school came. They gave me a beautiful white rocking chair with my name on the back. When I got home, my daughter asked me why they gave me a rocking chair. I said, "Because I'm retiring...because old ladies rock!" Some people told stories, such as the never-to-be-forgotten time I wore my dress backwards to honors night (well, it had no buttons or zipper, and was a very simple design...except that it did have a pocket which I wore on my shoulder blade...) It was a very nice time. I didn't cry, but I did come close. I am just too relieved to be sad. The stress has been great these past few years.

I have a little more cleaning to do and some paperwork due. Thursday is a county-wide reception for the four people who are retiring. Tomorrow, something I greatly prefer, my comrades on my hall are taking me out to lunch. Almost done...

Almost the end: Time to color outside the lines!

2008-05-26T14:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I did a terrible job of blogging about my experience during my last year at school! It just points out the main problem I had the whole time. I never could control the time school took out of my daily life.

I'm going to change my title to something else and just blog about my daily life as a RETIRED teacher. I have one day of postplanning and plus another day of reception to go, then I'll be done. Unlike most people I know, it has take me 46 years to finish school! I was only five when I started first grade, with a red sweater (well, surely I didn't wear a red sweater in August in Georgia, but I remember having it) and a book "satchel" with a humongous box of Crayola crayons in there. I was also terribly excited. Now, I'm 51, and I just might go get a big old box of Crayola crayons and COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES. I'm pretty excited.

School technology is my favorite thing...

2007-08-03T20:00:00.000-07:00

Whatever. When the printers don't work, when the Mailwasher won't open (whatever the hell a Mailwasher is), when your old, obsolete computer is the only one working, just think of a few of your favorite things...

If I were a computer tech person (in some alternate universe), I would be so incredibly ashamed if all of the teachers in one of my schools came back to start school for the new year, and the computers would not work for them! At my school, we have become so used to tech problems that they seem more common than for the computers to work well. After all, the tech people have ALL SUMMER to prepare for us. Why doesn't everything work? Why are teachers going home to print out their syllabi using their own ink so their evil-eyed administrators will be appeased the next day? Why are all the passwords on the student computers suddenly changed YET AGAIN, and no one has been told? Why are teachers new to the system unable to get their laptops for DAYS after their arrival? Why are the grading and attendance programs different EVERY YEAR, so that teachers begin the year without access to their rolls?

Because. That's why.

I remember those dandy mimeograph machines we used to use. Yep, those were the days. A teacher might go home with violet fingertips, but the sheets had that SMELL when they were freshly run off, and you could stand there and watch the machine run hypnotically around and around and around, making the copies for your students...no passwords, no arrogant tech people talking down to everyone else, no "access denied" messages. Just that lovely toxic purple ink...

"...share the fun."

2007-07-31T14:54:00.000-07:00

I swear that my horoscope says this today: "LIBRA: Your job may be the pits, but your social life will be quite fabulous! Indulge yourself and share the fun."

Well, my job wasn't exactly "the pits," and my social life isn't exactly "quite fabulous"! Today wasn't bad, if I disregard getting up early and trying to function on no sleep. We had a long faculty meeting before lunch,and then we had an English Department meeting from 2:00 until 3:00.

Naturally, we talked about NCLB and AYP. All the schools in the system made it, but the school system didn't make it. How can this be? First of all, it is being appealed. There is a problem because some kid transferred out of the school, then came back, then transferred out again. The figures apparently do not add up, and the state department doesn't have a big old calculator to figure it out.

We watched the ethics video, same one as last year. The acting is bad and situations exaggerated. We laughed at the video, but that doesn't mean that we don't take ethics seriously. I think the administrators are troubled by the laughter, because they always say something about it the seriousness of this information. One of the "teachers" portrayed in the movie has a gun in his drawer; another jumps out the window with drugs. We know how serious it is; we see the news. The items in the news are not humorous...this video is.

There are lots of new people in our school, and I find it worrisome that so many teachers left. It is important to build a faculty that will last and can plan ahead to structure the future. Starting over every year with new folks is not a good idea. I believe this because we have had a high turnover in our English department at the ninth and tenth grade level for years.

Maybe I just don't tolerate change well...! One change involves my coteacher--she is leaving to teach at the primary school level because her certificate is for that age. Fortunately, the school has hired her daughter to teach in her position with me! I taught her daughter a few years ago. Her first assignment is to clean out my file cabinet (joke). My file cabinet is the most ungodly mess of unfiled piles and stacks of papers that anyone has ever seen. It will take all year to dig through. My new coteacher might find some of her old work in there if she looks hard enough.

Tomorrow is the first day...

2007-07-30T21:20:00.000-07:00

Summer has ended at an usually early date...how can the first day of preplanning be on July 31? Here it is already. For many years, I would lie awake before the first day, nervous and excited, sad for my free time yet looking forward to seeing everyone again. And, although I seldom admit it, excited about seeing my new students. How could I make the new year better?

Nowadays, I am an insomniac who is usually awake in the night anyway. I don't feel that same level of excitement. Still, it's my last first day, since I am going to retire in May. How will I feel next year when they start without me? (All "mature" teachers believe the school really cannot operate without them.)

No, I'm not too excited to go back already. However, I have been thinking over what supplies to get with the $100 credit card we Georgia teachers receive from our governor. The $100 is just enough to expand the imagination--like one of those writing assignments I used to give ninth graders, "What would you do with $100?" I bought fairly mundane supplies last year: pencils, notebook paper, magic highlighters. Well, they were magic. My high school juniors who were somewhat reluctant to read literature were very pleased to highlight anything rather than take notes or whatever. Also, I noticed that the highlighters were magical enough to disappear by the end of the year!

I need to go to bed, so I won't doze off in an important meeting of some sort.