In my overzealous preparation for the geology course I'll be taking this fall (cause I wanna be a science nerd) I decided to purchase my textbooks online at the bookstore, thinking I could get them early that way and actually do some reading before class starts.
But no.
I called the bookstore and they said, sure, come pick them up. I went there and they said, no, not until the 21st. I momentarily considered buying a new set of books and then returning the other set -- once I was able to pick them up -- but that seemed, even for me, a bit too paranoid and nerdy.
I am a bit nervous about starting out down the science route, but I think that's just part of the stretching-myself motif that is engrained in my current science push.
Also, last night we had company over for dinner on our deck, with our new furniture and etc. Had a GREAT time, with a very international crowd, representing folks who are from or have traveled/lived in Europe, South America, Central America, Japan, Australia, and Africa.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Monday, August 14, 2006
CDT near Encampment, Wyoming
After the rain ended and the sky cleared, we had this kind of lovely day . . .
Handy Reading Meme
I read about this meme on Profgrrrrl. Here's how it works:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence on that page.
4. Post the text of the next four sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. No careful choosing of books that will make you look cool! Just pick the one that is closest to you.
6. Tag five people.
The nearest book is David Miller's AWOL on the Appalachian Trail. AWOL is a hiker who thru-hiked in 2003, when my spouse hiked. I met him when I hiked about 200 miles in Virginia. In fact, Footslogger and I are mentioned on page 80-something!
OK, here's the excerpt:
"Baltimore Jack, repeat thru-hiker and all-around trail bum, is at the grill, churning out hot dogs and hamburgers. A piece of red tape, roughly the same size as a white blaze, is plastered to the back of his t-shirt.
I am intrigued by what I over hear from a small group of hikers. They are talking about Elwood. I move closer with my plate of food, and ask if they will start the story over, from the beginning."
Hmm. As to tagging, I only know a couple of folks with blogs who read this one. So ... Trout and Classroom 9, consider yourself tagged.
On another note, we drove out to Encampment on Saturday and hiked a few miles in on the Continental Divide Trail, camped overnight, and got a deluge during the night. No leaks from the tents, though! More on that in the next post.
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence on that page.
4. Post the text of the next four sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. No careful choosing of books that will make you look cool! Just pick the one that is closest to you.
6. Tag five people.
The nearest book is David Miller's AWOL on the Appalachian Trail. AWOL is a hiker who thru-hiked in 2003, when my spouse hiked. I met him when I hiked about 200 miles in Virginia. In fact, Footslogger and I are mentioned on page 80-something!
OK, here's the excerpt:
"Baltimore Jack, repeat thru-hiker and all-around trail bum, is at the grill, churning out hot dogs and hamburgers. A piece of red tape, roughly the same size as a white blaze, is plastered to the back of his t-shirt.
I am intrigued by what I over hear from a small group of hikers. They are talking about Elwood. I move closer with my plate of food, and ask if they will start the story over, from the beginning."
Hmm. As to tagging, I only know a couple of folks with blogs who read this one. So ... Trout and Classroom 9, consider yourself tagged.
On another note, we drove out to Encampment on Saturday and hiked a few miles in on the Continental Divide Trail, camped overnight, and got a deluge during the night. No leaks from the tents, though! More on that in the next post.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
One S One H One E One R One I
Thursday evening -- and late into Friday morning -- I had the awesome opportunity to visit with one of my oldest friends, Sheri (see title for spelling) and her family, who stopped by one their way back home from vacation to spend the night with us. We barbecued, we chatted, chatted some more, and talked till 2 in the morning. The last time I saw Sheri was maybe 8 years ago. Now, even though we were both 16 just yesterday, she has one child about to begin her senior year in high school and another starting 6th grade. Wow. How does that happen?
Oh, and mom -- Sheri said to say hi.
OK, this blog entry will not be complete without a few memories that Sheri and I share:
* Junior year English class, writing notes to each other in Shakespeare-esque language while Mrs. R droned on and on in her unescapable monotone. Statements like this appeared in our notes: "Wilst thou comest to my abode after schooleth?" and other such rot.
* Canoe trip with Explorer Post #4 down the Current River in Missouri, where we spent one night in a public restroom because of a devastating rainstorm and a frog perched itself on Mrs. R's face (not the same Mrs. R as the one above -- this was a cool Mrs. R). We also lyricized our adventure as follows: "Red water/ Red water/ That's what you get when you go down a six-foot waterfall with sharp rocks at the bottom."
* Touring campsites at Philmont Scout Ranch -- back in the 80s, when campers and staff of the female persuasion at this august scouting famility were rarer than six-footed antelope -- singing "In the Jungle" to sold-out audiences of panting males.
* Driving together to our job at Page Drugs (in my lovely Datsun, named Bernie) during several years of high school. We were usually singing along to an 8-track tape of one of Paul Simon's albums, screaming the chorus at the top of our lungs. We goofed off more than we worked at the drugstore, taking lots of "sample" pictures of people's butts with the Polaroid Land cameras (we had to make sure they worked!), running around the store with feather dusters, etc. There was that one time the pharmacy was robbed and Sheri was almost shot, but I won't get into that one here!
* The morning of our high school graduation, Sheri's mom and mine organized a champagne breakfast for us and all of our friends, who showed up in our pajamas. Surprise! It was a good thing no one was sleeping nude that night . . .
There is much more I could add, but I won't, just to protect the innocent. Needless to say, it was great seeing Sheri again, her family is the bomb, and we should not let 8 years go by without seeing each other again. Maybe another reunion trip down the Current River?
Oh, and mom -- Sheri said to say hi.
OK, this blog entry will not be complete without a few memories that Sheri and I share:
* Junior year English class, writing notes to each other in Shakespeare-esque language while Mrs. R droned on and on in her unescapable monotone. Statements like this appeared in our notes: "Wilst thou comest to my abode after schooleth?" and other such rot.
* Canoe trip with Explorer Post #4 down the Current River in Missouri, where we spent one night in a public restroom because of a devastating rainstorm and a frog perched itself on Mrs. R's face (not the same Mrs. R as the one above -- this was a cool Mrs. R). We also lyricized our adventure as follows: "Red water/ Red water/ That's what you get when you go down a six-foot waterfall with sharp rocks at the bottom."
* Touring campsites at Philmont Scout Ranch -- back in the 80s, when campers and staff of the female persuasion at this august scouting famility were rarer than six-footed antelope -- singing "In the Jungle" to sold-out audiences of panting males.
* Driving together to our job at Page Drugs (in my lovely Datsun, named Bernie) during several years of high school. We were usually singing along to an 8-track tape of one of Paul Simon's albums, screaming the chorus at the top of our lungs. We goofed off more than we worked at the drugstore, taking lots of "sample" pictures of people's butts with the Polaroid Land cameras (we had to make sure they worked!), running around the store with feather dusters, etc. There was that one time the pharmacy was robbed and Sheri was almost shot, but I won't get into that one here!
* The morning of our high school graduation, Sheri's mom and mine organized a champagne breakfast for us and all of our friends, who showed up in our pajamas. Surprise! It was a good thing no one was sleeping nude that night . . .
There is much more I could add, but I won't, just to protect the innocent. Needless to say, it was great seeing Sheri again, her family is the bomb, and we should not let 8 years go by without seeing each other again. Maybe another reunion trip down the Current River?
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Weeds
I don't know whether to be happy or sad that I spent the whole morning (9-12) pulling weeds from my front yard. Should I be embarassed that I had that many weeds? Or happy that they're all pulled up? Either way, my hands and arms are sore, I have blisters on my palm, and I have a REALLY good excuse to spend the rest of the day piddling around. Ha!
About 2 weeks ago, I put weed and feed on my yard, which caused most of the weeds to shrivel slightly. This did make them easier to dig up, but . . . I still had to dig them up! I want to reseed in the bare spots, but I need to wait a month after the weed and feed, according to the instructions. So . . . I'll probably get some practice by reseeding in the back yard first, (where the weeds are growing happily) and then reseed the front once school starts.
It's not that I'm obsessive about my yard. I just want the grass to grow nicely, and it seems to be not doing so well. I've fertilized the heck out of it, and I water faithfully, but . . . .
We had dinner on the deck last night, with the new deck furniture, new umbrella, etc. Lovely! Felt all elegant and shit.
About 2 weeks ago, I put weed and feed on my yard, which caused most of the weeds to shrivel slightly. This did make them easier to dig up, but . . . I still had to dig them up! I want to reseed in the bare spots, but I need to wait a month after the weed and feed, according to the instructions. So . . . I'll probably get some practice by reseeding in the back yard first, (where the weeds are growing happily) and then reseed the front once school starts.
It's not that I'm obsessive about my yard. I just want the grass to grow nicely, and it seems to be not doing so well. I've fertilized the heck out of it, and I water faithfully, but . . . .
We had dinner on the deck last night, with the new deck furniture, new umbrella, etc. Lovely! Felt all elegant and shit.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
I Wanna Be a Science Nerd
Over the summer, I came to a startling awareness that has resulted in a choice that I'm still unsure about. Here's the deal: when I hike, I see rocks, and I wonder about them. How did that big chunk of (what I think is) granite get a vertical white stripe in it? How did that weird-shaped rock get left sticking out of a meadow? What makes the Appalachian mountains so rounded and green, while the mountains in the Grand Tetons, for example, are jagged and pointy and barren? (I know a bit of the answer to that is age, but I'd like to know more). So, I've decided to take up my employer on the promise to pay for 3 hours of coursework a semester, and use it to pursue these questions and others yet undiscovered. This fall, beginning August 27th or so, I'll be a freshman taking an introductory Geology course, also known as "Rocks for Jocks."
Another part of this for me is that I know I'll be pursuing something I don't have strengths in. Every other degree I've gotten has been in an area of strength -- literature, words, history, etc. I'm looking forward to a challenge, an intellectual one, that will require me to push on areas of weakness and make them stronger. At least, that's the tack I'm taking on it currently; we'll see when I start having to do math.
I'll keep you posted, my couple of readers . . .
Another part of this for me is that I know I'll be pursuing something I don't have strengths in. Every other degree I've gotten has been in an area of strength -- literature, words, history, etc. I'm looking forward to a challenge, an intellectual one, that will require me to push on areas of weakness and make them stronger. At least, that's the tack I'm taking on it currently; we'll see when I start having to do math.
I'll keep you posted, my couple of readers . . .
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Boring as Life
I received some harassment from a friend (yes, you, Jennifer!) about not updating my blog, so I am writing an entry under pressure.
Right now, things are pretty boring. I go to the office in the morning and work on projects, like
** editing chapters for a book (in regard to this book, I just found out that I'm going to be the first editor and not the second. Hoo-yeah!)
** writing an introductory chapter for said book
** writing a chapter on secondary literacy programs with a colleague from another southwestern state
** preparing for classes, which will start in a couple of weeks
** preparing for a research project on Instructional Facilitators
Mostly, I'm getting used to my new computers. It was my turn around for technology money, and I managed to get a new desktop and a new laptop. I LOVE my laptop -- it's tiny, weighs only 2.5 pounds, and fits smoothly into my backpack. I'm finally getting my desktop set up to run smoothly; the best thing about it is that the new monitor has USB ports right on it, so I can plug in my flash drive without getting down on my hands and knees and crawling around under my desk. Beautiful!
The weather has been delightful here this week -- today we had a high of 78 degrees. Perfect!
And I just found out that I'm going to get paid bookoo bucks for a project that I will enjoy working on. Hello, I'll be paying off my credit card . . .
Now back to Project Runway, my newest obsession.
Right now, things are pretty boring. I go to the office in the morning and work on projects, like
** editing chapters for a book (in regard to this book, I just found out that I'm going to be the first editor and not the second. Hoo-yeah!)
** writing an introductory chapter for said book
** writing a chapter on secondary literacy programs with a colleague from another southwestern state
** preparing for classes, which will start in a couple of weeks
** preparing for a research project on Instructional Facilitators
Mostly, I'm getting used to my new computers. It was my turn around for technology money, and I managed to get a new desktop and a new laptop. I LOVE my laptop -- it's tiny, weighs only 2.5 pounds, and fits smoothly into my backpack. I'm finally getting my desktop set up to run smoothly; the best thing about it is that the new monitor has USB ports right on it, so I can plug in my flash drive without getting down on my hands and knees and crawling around under my desk. Beautiful!
The weather has been delightful here this week -- today we had a high of 78 degrees. Perfect!
And I just found out that I'm going to get paid bookoo bucks for a project that I will enjoy working on. Hello, I'll be paying off my credit card . . .
Now back to Project Runway, my newest obsession.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Maine Pics
OK, this is the kind of thing I'm talking about. My mom would say "This is not a trail. This is a bunch of rocks with blazes painted on them." Actually, we found blazes were few and far between in these rocky sections, leaving us often wondering if we were climbing up the right set of rocks! The guy in the picture is my loving spouse. The bandana under his cap is to keep out the biting flies. You know, the kind that fly circles around your head for miles, looking for a way to get inside your brain? Sort of like a Twilight Zone episode.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Hard Hiking
Um, those Mainers? When they say a trail is hard, you should listen.
Slogger and I just returned from a week or so of hiking on the AT in southern Maine. Whew. That was -- bar none -- the toughest hiking I have ever done in my life. And since I've been backpacking since I was 12, that's a lot of hiking.
We hiked from Rangely south to Gorham, about 78 miles all told. Part of that involved climbing countless mountains, as the trail was either going up a mountain or down one. None of this weeny, sidehill hiking for southern Maine.
The highlight of the trip, of course, was the Mahoosuc Notch. This one-mile section of the AT, known as the "most difficult mile on the Appalachian Trail" is famous for its rock scrambles and general coolness. It's hard to say whether it's really the most difficult, but it did take us 2 and a half hours to negotiate over and under boulders, etc. Basically, there's a stream -- the Bull Branch, I think -- running through this narrow valley and on top of the stream are loads of boulders that range from smallish to house-sized. The trail winds around and over and through, sometimes through holes so small you have to take off your pack and push it through, then crawl through yourself. Here's a trip report on Mahoosuc Notch, if you're interested. Oh, and one of the coolest things about the Notch is -- it's really cool. There's even ice in crevices under the boulders, and as we were hiking through, every once in while we would walk through cool air that felt just like walking into a walk-in cooler. (And I do actually know how that feels, as I got locked in a walk-in cooler once by a sadistic fellow employee at a Boy Scout camp where I once worked. Maybe I'll tell that story at a later date.)Climbing up and out of the notch, we could feel the temps rising at an incredible pace.
The day we did the Mahoosuc Notch we hiked 5.1 miles -- and it took us from 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening to do it. So . . . needless to say we were a bit bushed. A different kind of tired, though, from the regular backpacking tired. The regular tired is a sore feet, achy knees, sweaty and disgusting tired; this one felt like I had done energetic aerobics and weight workouts all day long -- think The Firm workouts for a full day.
When we got into Gorham, New Hampshire, we had planned on hiking on to Pinkham Notch, but the timing was a bit off. (Translation: if we had kept on hiking, we wouldn't have had time to take a shower before taking a bus and two flights back here. Just can't inflict that kind of olfactory torture on the unwitting populace.) So we ended up renting a car and driving around New Hampshire, stopping at places where the road crosses the trail and handing out trail magic -- sodas, Little Debbies, and fruit -- to hikers who happened along. You wouldn't imagine how good it feels to see a hiker's eyes light up when you croon to them "We've got Swiss Rolls . . . "
Now that we're back home, we're compiling a video of photos from our trip, which we will obnoxiously send to just about anyone who either voices an interest or who we think might be willing to receive it without throwing it in the trash.
In the meantime, lots of work to do and lots of time to spend daydreaming about next year's long-distance hike. I'll be posting a couple of pics soon.
Slogger and I just returned from a week or so of hiking on the AT in southern Maine. Whew. That was -- bar none -- the toughest hiking I have ever done in my life. And since I've been backpacking since I was 12, that's a lot of hiking.
We hiked from Rangely south to Gorham, about 78 miles all told. Part of that involved climbing countless mountains, as the trail was either going up a mountain or down one. None of this weeny, sidehill hiking for southern Maine.
The highlight of the trip, of course, was the Mahoosuc Notch. This one-mile section of the AT, known as the "most difficult mile on the Appalachian Trail" is famous for its rock scrambles and general coolness. It's hard to say whether it's really the most difficult, but it did take us 2 and a half hours to negotiate over and under boulders, etc. Basically, there's a stream -- the Bull Branch, I think -- running through this narrow valley and on top of the stream are loads of boulders that range from smallish to house-sized. The trail winds around and over and through, sometimes through holes so small you have to take off your pack and push it through, then crawl through yourself. Here's a trip report on Mahoosuc Notch, if you're interested. Oh, and one of the coolest things about the Notch is -- it's really cool. There's even ice in crevices under the boulders, and as we were hiking through, every once in while we would walk through cool air that felt just like walking into a walk-in cooler. (And I do actually know how that feels, as I got locked in a walk-in cooler once by a sadistic fellow employee at a Boy Scout camp where I once worked. Maybe I'll tell that story at a later date.)Climbing up and out of the notch, we could feel the temps rising at an incredible pace.
The day we did the Mahoosuc Notch we hiked 5.1 miles -- and it took us from 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening to do it. So . . . needless to say we were a bit bushed. A different kind of tired, though, from the regular backpacking tired. The regular tired is a sore feet, achy knees, sweaty and disgusting tired; this one felt like I had done energetic aerobics and weight workouts all day long -- think The Firm workouts for a full day.
When we got into Gorham, New Hampshire, we had planned on hiking on to Pinkham Notch, but the timing was a bit off. (Translation: if we had kept on hiking, we wouldn't have had time to take a shower before taking a bus and two flights back here. Just can't inflict that kind of olfactory torture on the unwitting populace.) So we ended up renting a car and driving around New Hampshire, stopping at places where the road crosses the trail and handing out trail magic -- sodas, Little Debbies, and fruit -- to hikers who happened along. You wouldn't imagine how good it feels to see a hiker's eyes light up when you croon to them "We've got Swiss Rolls . . . "
Now that we're back home, we're compiling a video of photos from our trip, which we will obnoxiously send to just about anyone who either voices an interest or who we think might be willing to receive it without throwing it in the trash.
In the meantime, lots of work to do and lots of time to spend daydreaming about next year's long-distance hike. I'll be posting a couple of pics soon.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Peak Bagging
With friends from the AT in town yesterday, (hi Trace and One-Third!), we decided after lunch that we HAD to hike the Medicine Bow Peak trail. Got started hiking about 3 and had a beautiful, flower-filled hike. What lovely vistas. Reminds me of why I love hiking.
Speaking of which, we're heading for Maine soon to do our 120 miles from Rangely south to Pinkham Notch on the AT. Looking forward to that... this time I'm taking my digital recorder to do a better job of journalling.
Summer so far has been a parade of visitors, which has been lovely.
Speaking of which, we're heading for Maine soon to do our 120 miles from Rangely south to Pinkham Notch on the AT. Looking forward to that... this time I'm taking my digital recorder to do a better job of journalling.
Summer so far has been a parade of visitors, which has been lovely.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Not Enough Time
In spite of the fact that it is summer, I still have not had the time to finish posting my hiking journal from my Virginia AT hike last month. Perhaps because suddenly the deadline on the handbook section that I am co-editing is NEXT WEEK! Erg. That means I've got to spend every moment of Monday and Tuesday doing final edits on all four of the chapters I'm tracking, along with working on our co-written introductory chapter.
So . . . more hiking journal later, folks.
Now it's back to yard work. It is summer, dammit.
So . . . more hiking journal later, folks.
Now it's back to yard work. It is summer, dammit.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Hiking Journal -- Monday, May 22nd
My loving spouse dropped me off at the Blue Ridge Parkway (not sure of the mile marker, but it's near the Peaks of Otter Lodge) at about 10:30. He's only got just enough time to get back to the Tri-Cities Airport if he speeds the whole way. He'll probably miss his flight.
I hiked 7 miles in lovely sunny but cool weather to Marble Springs Campsite. Along the way, I met some thru-hikers: Pumpkin, Pepperoni (whom we gave a ride to Pearisburg), Caboose and Walkabout (picked them up on the Parkway), Energizer Bunny, and Lounge Lizard. Interestingly, Lounge Lizard was sitting next to a van at a forest service road about halfway through today's hike, with sodas, fruit, cookies, etc. When I asked what he was doing, he said that he had started the trail, but only got a few days into it (in Georgia) when he injured his knee. The interesting thing is that he was doing his dissertation research -- he's working on a degree in Recreation and Leisure Studies -- while hiking the trail. Sound familiar? When I heard this, I immediately took off my pack, sat down, and chatted for a while. I wish him the best -- in fact, it's probably for the best that he was injured. Though it means he won't get to hike the trail, he'll probably do a better job of his dissertation than I did.
As I reached Marble Spring, I thought about going on, but my legs were a bit wobbly -- first day, and all -- so I decided to stay put. Energizer Bunny, a 60-year old woman who is surely high on caffeine at all times, pushed on, planning for a 22-mile day. Better her.
I hiked 7 miles in lovely sunny but cool weather to Marble Springs Campsite. Along the way, I met some thru-hikers: Pumpkin, Pepperoni (whom we gave a ride to Pearisburg), Caboose and Walkabout (picked them up on the Parkway), Energizer Bunny, and Lounge Lizard. Interestingly, Lounge Lizard was sitting next to a van at a forest service road about halfway through today's hike, with sodas, fruit, cookies, etc. When I asked what he was doing, he said that he had started the trail, but only got a few days into it (in Georgia) when he injured his knee. The interesting thing is that he was doing his dissertation research -- he's working on a degree in Recreation and Leisure Studies -- while hiking the trail. Sound familiar? When I heard this, I immediately took off my pack, sat down, and chatted for a while. I wish him the best -- in fact, it's probably for the best that he was injured. Though it means he won't get to hike the trail, he'll probably do a better job of his dissertation than I did.
As I reached Marble Spring, I thought about going on, but my legs were a bit wobbly -- first day, and all -- so I decided to stay put. Energizer Bunny, a 60-year old woman who is surely high on caffeine at all times, pushed on, planning for a 22-mile day. Better her.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Zero Day
Although I'm currently hiking on the AT in Virginia, I am taking a day off (a zero day, in thru-hiker speak) at a lovely bed and breakfast just off the trail. Internet access is just one of the perks of this beautiful place!
I'm keeping a journal of my hiking experiences, and will post those when I return.
Happy hiking on your own trails to you!
I'm keeping a journal of my hiking experiences, and will post those when I return.
Happy hiking on your own trails to you!
Saturday, May 06, 2006
And I Didn't Cry
Graduation was this morning. Most of my students showed up to walk, and it was fun seeing them and wishing them the best. I enjoyed dressing up in my spiffy robes and snazzy hat. The graduation speaker was excellent, with lots of good things to say about the responsibility our nation has to provide a good education especially for the millions of children who live in poverty. Quite inspiring.
I got to stand at the end of the stage and give all of my students hugs as they walked off the stage, having received -- well, not their diplomas, but a neat portfolio for the one they will eventually receive in the mail. I hooded my first doctoral student, which was an outstanding feeling (congrats, Karen!).
And I did all of this without crying. Miracles. Never. Cease.
I got to stand at the end of the stage and give all of my students hugs as they walked off the stage, having received -- well, not their diplomas, but a neat portfolio for the one they will eventually receive in the mail. I hooded my first doctoral student, which was an outstanding feeling (congrats, Karen!).
And I did all of this without crying. Miracles. Never. Cease.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Exciting Stuff!
Yesterday was my last day of involvement in a year-long professional development project in a large city in my state (now called "Center City"). We've been teaching secondary teachers, speech therapists, principals, librarians, etc. about using comprehension strategies, developing text sets, writing, working with vocabulary as part of their work with students. It's been the most satisfying professional development work I've ever been involved in, particularly because of the ways in which groups of teachers at various schools are implementing the knowledge they've gained. Heard lots of stories yesterday about new projects started, new classes for students in which they are reading young adult novels related to various topics in content area classes. Lots of excitement brewing, and very high ratings on the professional development program itself.
I got to sit down with an art teacher and a music teacher who are taking seriously the involvement of literacy in their courses, and that was thrilling for me.
The drive there and back was beautiful -- I checked out a book on CD from the library and enjoyed listening to about half of it.
I got to sit down with an art teacher and a music teacher who are taking seriously the involvement of literacy in their courses, and that was thrilling for me.
The drive there and back was beautiful -- I checked out a book on CD from the library and enjoyed listening to about half of it.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Good News!
As of yesterday, I am finished visiting student teachers! Calloo, callay, it's a beautiful day!
No, really, can you tell I'm relieved?
It was actually quite a decent semester for student teachers, except that I supervised nineteeen this time, spread out over 4 districts and 9 buildings. That meant that I didn't get to spend as much time with all of them as I wanted to, but I still feel that I did the best I could under the circumstances. (I know, what am I doing under there, anyway?)
Only a couple of problems, and those were handled with a relatively small amount of angst.
Now I must get to work on the umpteen billion writing projects that have to be finished this summer.
No, really, can you tell I'm relieved?
It was actually quite a decent semester for student teachers, except that I supervised nineteeen this time, spread out over 4 districts and 9 buildings. That meant that I didn't get to spend as much time with all of them as I wanted to, but I still feel that I did the best I could under the circumstances. (I know, what am I doing under there, anyway?)
Only a couple of problems, and those were handled with a relatively small amount of angst.
Now I must get to work on the umpteen billion writing projects that have to be finished this summer.
Monday, April 24, 2006
One More Thing
Another change to my junior-level English methods class: Since I'll be operating Thursdays as writing workshops, each student in class will collaborate with me on teaching the mini-lesson for one workshop day during the semester. The collaboration is so that the workshop focuses on an aspect of their writing that is in need of work, and so that I can make sure the instructional experience they get is valuable. Perhaps after the workshop, I should require them to meet with me to debrief the experience of teaching the mini-lesson? I'll need to be sure to have a clear, highly structured and well-articulated sense of what the mini-lesson should involve.
I think this plan has more possibilities for quality instructional time and for learning about teaching than the "opening circle" work that I did last year.
I also would like to work in to this class some experiences with reading and commenting on student papers. This will mean, probably, using the local writing project website (for which I am the technology liaison) for teachers in the state to post their students' writing, and for my students to have an opportunity to read and respond to those. It's a bit tough to figure out, because I'm not sure how to organize it so that both the preservice teachers and the students of the inservice teachers get the most out of it, especially in terms of timing.
I'll work on that aspect some more this summer.
I think this plan has more possibilities for quality instructional time and for learning about teaching than the "opening circle" work that I did last year.
I also would like to work in to this class some experiences with reading and commenting on student papers. This will mean, probably, using the local writing project website (for which I am the technology liaison) for teachers in the state to post their students' writing, and for my students to have an opportunity to read and respond to those. It's a bit tough to figure out, because I'm not sure how to organize it so that both the preservice teachers and the students of the inservice teachers get the most out of it, especially in terms of timing.
I'll work on that aspect some more this summer.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
FYI
Just an FYI. If you write a grant proposal that has this in it:
"This data base can help departments of education start to think about how current and future high school teachers are taught how to teach writing."
and this:
"This statistic would allow us to look closely at the kind of education our teachers are receiving and to look at how they are applying their education in the classroom."
you'd better have talked to me about it first. Especially when you're talking about English teachers.
"Start to think"!! What the hell?
"This data base can help departments of education start to think about how current and future high school teachers are taught how to teach writing."
and this:
"This statistic would allow us to look closely at the kind of education our teachers are receiving and to look at how they are applying their education in the classroom."
you'd better have talked to me about it first. Especially when you're talking about English teachers.
"Start to think"!! What the hell?
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Blizzarding
I decided this mornign that I would walk to work. Decided that BEFORE I looked out the window and saw the snow falling. That's right, you heard me, snow falling on April 18th.
But it's ok, I'm a bad ass, I can take walking to work in the snow. I pulled on my warm blue jacket, wool hat (made by my mom!), fleece gloves. I turned on my mp3 player (no, it's not an Ipod, damn it) and cruised along for a few blocks.
That's when the real fun began. The wind picked up, to the point where I could hear it whistling even over the 70's-rock sound of Lenny Kravitz. The snow was pelting my face, sticking to my jeans, crusting my gloves and hat. The side of my face started stiffening up, and I could barely begin to see the snow sticking to my eyelashes.
I started looking around for a building I could enter, but aside from just knocking on doors, there was nothing around. So I trudged on, passing other freaks of nature out for a walk in this terrible weather, until I finally made it to an office building where I had to run an errand anyway.
Whew.
Now, of course, the sun is out, the snow has melted, and spring is back. Such is life. I'm sure when I head for home this afternoon, another blizzard will hit. Just seems like that kind of day.
But it's ok, I'm a bad ass, I can take walking to work in the snow. I pulled on my warm blue jacket, wool hat (made by my mom!), fleece gloves. I turned on my mp3 player (no, it's not an Ipod, damn it) and cruised along for a few blocks.
That's when the real fun began. The wind picked up, to the point where I could hear it whistling even over the 70's-rock sound of Lenny Kravitz. The snow was pelting my face, sticking to my jeans, crusting my gloves and hat. The side of my face started stiffening up, and I could barely begin to see the snow sticking to my eyelashes.
I started looking around for a building I could enter, but aside from just knocking on doors, there was nothing around. So I trudged on, passing other freaks of nature out for a walk in this terrible weather, until I finally made it to an office building where I had to run an errand anyway.
Whew.
Now, of course, the sun is out, the snow has melted, and spring is back. Such is life. I'm sure when I head for home this afternoon, another blizzard will hit. Just seems like that kind of day.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
I recently sat in a meeting with some school administrators who told me about the state's investment (via an allocation of funding from the legislature) in "instructional facilitators" for school districts. These are teachers whose job will be to work with other teachers on improving instruction. My sense is that these IFs will be working particularly with math and literacy skills across the curriculum, especially at the secondary level. Many school districts in the state are now frantically getting their paperwork in line so that they can hire several IFs per school. For example in the district I mentioned above, they will be hiring 36 new IFs, mostly classroom teachers who will come out of their classrooms to work with other teachers.
This trend has been common in elementary classrooms, particularly in terms of teachers called "literacy coaches" -- this has a special meaning for schools involved in the Reading First work.
But in secondary schools, it's a fairly new idea.
Of course, as soon as I heard about this, my research mode kicked in. A colleague and I have something planned, something I am very excited about, to take a look in a mixed method format at what happens in secondary schools when IFs are provided to help teachers. Still in the planning stages, but I'm excited about it.
The whole IF thing also raises some questions in my mind:
* What kind of teachers will volunteer to step out of their classrooms and work with other teachers? Will they be (and this is my hope) the ones who are master teachers, who are keenly interested in improving instruction and who can work well with other teachers? Or will they be the ones who are sick and tired of being in the classroom and see IF work as an easier, less stressful option?
* Will these IFs be able to work with teachers? I mean, in my experience, there are some teachers who are seriously interested in changing/improving their craft (the easy and lovely ones to work with) and then there are those who would not change if a fire was lit under their ass. How successful will these IFs be with the latter? What will stand in their way? What will facilitate their work?
* Ultimately, we will want to see improvement in student achievement. Will this happen?
* What does this do to the principal's responsibility as an Instructional Leader?
In the meantime, while this work is in the planning stages, the chapters are beginning to roll in for the two editing jobs I've agreed to. Exciting stuff.
And my class in Casper is over for the semester (except for the grading) and I'm suddenly freed up a bit to get some writing done. Hooray!
This trend has been common in elementary classrooms, particularly in terms of teachers called "literacy coaches" -- this has a special meaning for schools involved in the Reading First work.
But in secondary schools, it's a fairly new idea.
Of course, as soon as I heard about this, my research mode kicked in. A colleague and I have something planned, something I am very excited about, to take a look in a mixed method format at what happens in secondary schools when IFs are provided to help teachers. Still in the planning stages, but I'm excited about it.
The whole IF thing also raises some questions in my mind:
* What kind of teachers will volunteer to step out of their classrooms and work with other teachers? Will they be (and this is my hope) the ones who are master teachers, who are keenly interested in improving instruction and who can work well with other teachers? Or will they be the ones who are sick and tired of being in the classroom and see IF work as an easier, less stressful option?
* Will these IFs be able to work with teachers? I mean, in my experience, there are some teachers who are seriously interested in changing/improving their craft (the easy and lovely ones to work with) and then there are those who would not change if a fire was lit under their ass. How successful will these IFs be with the latter? What will stand in their way? What will facilitate their work?
* Ultimately, we will want to see improvement in student achievement. Will this happen?
* What does this do to the principal's responsibility as an Instructional Leader?
In the meantime, while this work is in the planning stages, the chapters are beginning to roll in for the two editing jobs I've agreed to. Exciting stuff.
And my class in Casper is over for the semester (except for the grading) and I'm suddenly freed up a bit to get some writing done. Hooray!
Friday, April 07, 2006
Beer Poet(ry)
Here's a poem written by a long-distance hiker, Beer Poet, who is now hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. (He's also famous for his poem, "The Rainy Day (AT Poem)"
My Compass (8/13)
15 miles from Oregon
I realized
that I had lost a close friend. . .
(my compass)
This is a horribly tragic moment.
That compass had become my mirror,
my reflection of the real world. . .
When it looked back at me
I found movement and direction.
"Oh what grief!"
If only it could talk. . .
It would yell out,
“Help! . . .
Take me to my friend!”
and it would tell grandiose stories of adventure
and madness.
(It could tell one hell of a tale.)
but it lies quiet somewhere . . .
(without me)
Sadly sleeping,
without the movement . . .
without serving me well.
And the hush of the wind
sings a lulling sad lament
as the morning begins
the stars fade, and the sky turns
from black to early grey. . .
and I sip on a cup of tea
(Earl Grey)
with a distant bugle playing taps in my head
. . . and I miss my compass.
The Beer Poet
My Compass (8/13)
15 miles from Oregon
I realized
that I had lost a close friend. . .
(my compass)
This is a horribly tragic moment.
That compass had become my mirror,
my reflection of the real world. . .
When it looked back at me
I found movement and direction.
"Oh what grief!"
If only it could talk. . .
It would yell out,
“Help! . . .
Take me to my friend!”
and it would tell grandiose stories of adventure
and madness.
(It could tell one hell of a tale.)
but it lies quiet somewhere . . .
(without me)
Sadly sleeping,
without the movement . . .
without serving me well.
And the hush of the wind
sings a lulling sad lament
as the morning begins
the stars fade, and the sky turns
from black to early grey. . .
and I sip on a cup of tea
(Earl Grey)
with a distant bugle playing taps in my head
. . . and I miss my compass.
The Beer Poet
Monday, April 03, 2006
Change is a Good Thing
Lately I've been pondering changes to my junior-level English methods class, which focuses on teaching writing. This has begun with completely abandoning the textbooks for the class and adopting new ones. I've decided on these:
Teaching Writing: Craft, Art, Genre by Fran Claggett
Grammar Alive! A Guide for Teachers by Brock Haussamen
Risking Intensity: Reading and Writing Poetry with High School Students by Judith Rowe Michaels
I'll also need to have students read some chapters on the writing process, on conferencing with students, on setting up a writing workshop -- I've got most of those in hand.
I'm thinking of setting it up in a similar fashion to last year, with Tuesdays being regular class days and Thursdays being workshop days. As to the workshop, we will be spending time developing our own portfolio of writing, including at least one narrative piece and some poetry.
Other assignments I'm thinking about include using Hillocks' ideas about structuring writing and a sense of writing workshop format to have students -- individually -- create a plan for teaching a particular type of writing. This will include a "gateway activity" and then a series of structured lessons, in workshop format, to assist students with writing that particular genre.
That's about as far as I've gotten so far, although I have other ideas milling about in my brain.
Teaching Writing: Craft, Art, Genre by Fran Claggett
Grammar Alive! A Guide for Teachers by Brock Haussamen
Risking Intensity: Reading and Writing Poetry with High School Students by Judith Rowe Michaels
I'll also need to have students read some chapters on the writing process, on conferencing with students, on setting up a writing workshop -- I've got most of those in hand.
I'm thinking of setting it up in a similar fashion to last year, with Tuesdays being regular class days and Thursdays being workshop days. As to the workshop, we will be spending time developing our own portfolio of writing, including at least one narrative piece and some poetry.
Other assignments I'm thinking about include using Hillocks' ideas about structuring writing and a sense of writing workshop format to have students -- individually -- create a plan for teaching a particular type of writing. This will include a "gateway activity" and then a series of structured lessons, in workshop format, to assist students with writing that particular genre.
That's about as far as I've gotten so far, although I have other ideas milling about in my brain.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Monday, March 06, 2006
Spring Break is Coming! Spring Break is Coming!
Here's what I'll be doing over spring break . . .
Friday night, our search committee took our final candidate out to dinner. The folks at the table started counting the number of times I said "Belize." I think the count was about 10 in an hour and a half.
I'm expecting to come back tanned, fatter, and happier. I'm certainly not taking any work with me. Sigh. Can't wait.
Friday night, our search committee took our final candidate out to dinner. The folks at the table started counting the number of times I said "Belize." I think the count was about 10 in an hour and a half.
I'm expecting to come back tanned, fatter, and happier. I'm certainly not taking any work with me. Sigh. Can't wait.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Green is the Color
My wonderful spouse packed his backpacking gear in his Vapor Trail last night, in preparation for his trip to the Rockies Ruck this weekend.
When I saw him in that backpack, I slowly turned green.
Because of some work commitments, I can't go to the Ruck this year, and that does not make me happy. However, when I think about it, I just repeat my mantra: "Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming."
It's odd that I've been having spring breaks as long as I can remember. Since I was 5 years old, I've been in school, either teaching or being taught, and spring break is a staple of the school experience. So much so, that when I first met Footslogger, who is not an educator, I cracked him up by asking "So what are you doing for spring break?"
I guess not everyone gets spring break. So sad for you guys!
I'm still waiting with bated breath to find out if any of my poetry gets published... will let you know when I find out.
When I saw him in that backpack, I slowly turned green.
Because of some work commitments, I can't go to the Ruck this year, and that does not make me happy. However, when I think about it, I just repeat my mantra: "Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming."
It's odd that I've been having spring breaks as long as I can remember. Since I was 5 years old, I've been in school, either teaching or being taught, and spring break is a staple of the school experience. So much so, that when I first met Footslogger, who is not an educator, I cracked him up by asking "So what are you doing for spring break?"
I guess not everyone gets spring break. So sad for you guys!
I'm still waiting with bated breath to find out if any of my poetry gets published... will let you know when I find out.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Sick to my Stomach
When my younger brother was very small, he used to say "I've got a headache in my tummy."
That's what's going on with me now, except that the headache is in my tummy, my head, my bones, etc.
Got up at 5:15 this morning to take someone to the airport. Have eaten out almost every night this week, with candidates coming in. Stressing over the timing of the search and whether or not it will be successful and how to make everyone happy (I know, I can't) and how to get all my work done while still chairing the search committee.
Impossible, I know.
On the bright side, we have two (and hopefully, with the funding gods on our side, three) extremely qualified candidates coming in. Bright hopes all around. But it sure is a lot of work getting them here and getting them through their meetings, job talks, etc.
Longing for spring break . . . .
That's what's going on with me now, except that the headache is in my tummy, my head, my bones, etc.
Got up at 5:15 this morning to take someone to the airport. Have eaten out almost every night this week, with candidates coming in. Stressing over the timing of the search and whether or not it will be successful and how to make everyone happy (I know, I can't) and how to get all my work done while still chairing the search committee.
Impossible, I know.
On the bright side, we have two (and hopefully, with the funding gods on our side, three) extremely qualified candidates coming in. Bright hopes all around. But it sure is a lot of work getting them here and getting them through their meetings, job talks, etc.
Longing for spring break . . . .
Friday, February 10, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Melted Honey
I found this rough draft of a poem in last year's composition book.
Made of stone
Sheathed in silk
Atop stiletto heels.
Not a sign of feeling escapes
Nor a breath of joy or despair.
A picture of perfect elegance
Made hard by those feelings now bricked up:
Life's unfailing plagues
Of sorrow and triumph and pain and elation.
Some force within me longs
To ruffle the feathers,
To mar the silken surface.
To tap the hardened stone
And see the honey flow forth.
Made of stone
Sheathed in silk
Atop stiletto heels.
Not a sign of feeling escapes
Nor a breath of joy or despair.
A picture of perfect elegance
Made hard by those feelings now bricked up:
Life's unfailing plagues
Of sorrow and triumph and pain and elation.
Some force within me longs
To ruffle the feathers,
To mar the silken surface.
To tap the hardened stone
And see the honey flow forth.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Face Plant
Lest you think that I have some new kind of ivy or rhododendron growing from my visage, here's the gruesome story.
On Sunday last, I went with my caretaking spouse, a doctor from the clinic where said spouse works, and the wonderful young woman the doctor is currently dating for a day of skiing at Snowy Range Ski Area just outside of beautiful Laramie, Wyoming.
The powder was deep, it snowed all day long, the company was fantastic, the roads weren't too bad. We had a fantastic time. Except for me, on my first run down Ogalalla.
I'm not the greatest skiier, let me assure you up front. I'm decent, but I'm usually cautious. On Sunday, however, I had some kind of wildness boiling in my blood that prompted me to say, "Sure! Let's do Ogalalla first!" Ogalalla isn't bad, but it's steeper than I usually do on my first run of the day. Let's just say that I need that slow first run of the day in order to work out the kinks, remind my body of what it takes to keep control while sliding down a hill on wooden planks, etc.
Fiberglass, whatever.
I didn't quite get that slow first run. Instead, I went screaming down Ogalalla and ended up with my face planted firmly in a snow bank about half way down. That's after spending a few minutes careening down the hill, way out of control, a few seconds flailing wildly, and a few miliseconds spreading my gear across the mountainside in a yard sale, just missing a snowboarder by inches.
When I pulled my face out of the snow, I noticed the blood.
Noses bleed a lot when they've been slammed into the side of a mountain. Luckily, my compatriots came along (they were behind me -- was I trying to show off? Perhaps, but that is the story of another post) with advice and Kleenex. Lie back, shove this kleenex up your nose, don't worry about the blood streaming down the side of your face and onto your new skiing outfit....
I don't want you think that it ruined my day. It didn't. Just slowed me down. A lot.
On Sunday last, I went with my caretaking spouse, a doctor from the clinic where said spouse works, and the wonderful young woman the doctor is currently dating for a day of skiing at Snowy Range Ski Area just outside of beautiful Laramie, Wyoming.
The powder was deep, it snowed all day long, the company was fantastic, the roads weren't too bad. We had a fantastic time. Except for me, on my first run down Ogalalla.
I'm not the greatest skiier, let me assure you up front. I'm decent, but I'm usually cautious. On Sunday, however, I had some kind of wildness boiling in my blood that prompted me to say, "Sure! Let's do Ogalalla first!" Ogalalla isn't bad, but it's steeper than I usually do on my first run of the day. Let's just say that I need that slow first run of the day in order to work out the kinks, remind my body of what it takes to keep control while sliding down a hill on wooden planks, etc.
Fiberglass, whatever.
I didn't quite get that slow first run. Instead, I went screaming down Ogalalla and ended up with my face planted firmly in a snow bank about half way down. That's after spending a few minutes careening down the hill, way out of control, a few seconds flailing wildly, and a few miliseconds spreading my gear across the mountainside in a yard sale, just missing a snowboarder by inches.
When I pulled my face out of the snow, I noticed the blood.
Noses bleed a lot when they've been slammed into the side of a mountain. Luckily, my compatriots came along (they were behind me -- was I trying to show off? Perhaps, but that is the story of another post) with advice and Kleenex. Lie back, shove this kleenex up your nose, don't worry about the blood streaming down the side of your face and onto your new skiing outfit....
I don't want you think that it ruined my day. It didn't. Just slowed me down. A lot.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Cowgirls Beat CSU
Went to the Cowgirls basketball game last night with my spouse. Was it ever an exciting game. Here's the freakiest thing about it -- in the second half, with 15 seconds left in the game, UW was down by 5. 15 seconds. Down by 5.
Then Jodi made a three-pointer, Erin stole an inbound pass for a bucket, and voila! UW is tied with CSU, with 7 seconds left.
In overtime, we went on to beat CSU, 87-80 or something like that.
When we got home, I had a sore throat from screaming so much.
Then Jodi made a three-pointer, Erin stole an inbound pass for a bucket, and voila! UW is tied with CSU, with 7 seconds left.
In overtime, we went on to beat CSU, 87-80 or something like that.
When we got home, I had a sore throat from screaming so much.
Not Really an Excuse
I know it has been much too long since my last post. No excuses. I should be posting more.
But . . .
(you knew that was coming, right?)
Here's the thing. I am not exactly anonymous here, and sometimes I get to wondering how I can really write anything somewhat approximating my experiences without pissing off my bosses, embarassing my students, implicating my spouse, or just plain making myself look foolish.
When those feelings overwhelm (and really, when the only things I have to talk about are things that would .... see above) I tend to go into hibernation. Work hard. And not blog.
But I had a bit of a breakthrough today, so I thought I would blog about it.
I'm teaching an intensive weekend course starting tomorrow, and planning for the Friday evening and all day Saturday has taken up a GOOD CHUNK of my time lately. Even with all of the work I've put into planning for the class, I started thinking this afternoon that I'm going to end up teaching until noon on Saturday and then run out of things to do.
That's a bad feeling.
So I sat down today, got out my composition book, and did some writing/thinking about what would I want to know about research in writing instruction at the secondary level, if I were a student in my class? Boom. Massive amount of content that I can deliver, that my students can debate and discuss and use for their projects, and that I actually have material on in my office. Cool, huh?
Topics to be enlarged upon before tomorrow afternoon at 1:00:
*** Research on response to student writing
*** Research on grammar and the teaching of writing
*** Research on the process approach to writing instruction
Now I must buckle down.
Thanks for stopping by.
But . . .
(you knew that was coming, right?)
Here's the thing. I am not exactly anonymous here, and sometimes I get to wondering how I can really write anything somewhat approximating my experiences without pissing off my bosses, embarassing my students, implicating my spouse, or just plain making myself look foolish.
When those feelings overwhelm (and really, when the only things I have to talk about are things that would .... see above) I tend to go into hibernation. Work hard. And not blog.
But I had a bit of a breakthrough today, so I thought I would blog about it.
I'm teaching an intensive weekend course starting tomorrow, and planning for the Friday evening and all day Saturday has taken up a GOOD CHUNK of my time lately. Even with all of the work I've put into planning for the class, I started thinking this afternoon that I'm going to end up teaching until noon on Saturday and then run out of things to do.
That's a bad feeling.
So I sat down today, got out my composition book, and did some writing/thinking about what would I want to know about research in writing instruction at the secondary level, if I were a student in my class? Boom. Massive amount of content that I can deliver, that my students can debate and discuss and use for their projects, and that I actually have material on in my office. Cool, huh?
Topics to be enlarged upon before tomorrow afternoon at 1:00:
*** Research on response to student writing
*** Research on grammar and the teaching of writing
*** Research on the process approach to writing instruction
Now I must buckle down.
Thanks for stopping by.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Triple the Fun
We returned home from our Christmas extravaganza at the home of my brother, his lovely wife, and their oh-so-precocious triplet boys (2.5 years of age), graced by the presence of Mom, Sam, assorted in-laws on either side, lots of booze, neighbors, parties, gifts, etc. What a fun and yet exhausting time!
My mom has written a lively, yet short recap of the experience. I'm still waiting on her permission to post it, but while I wait, I'll just let you know that I returned from Texas with a lovely cold and earache (thanks, boys!) that is just now beginning to simmer down.
Meanwhile, I'm working away on lots of projects, getting ready for next week when classes start, student teaching supervision begins, and I'll be making a trip to the center of the state to do some professional development in Casper.
It's lovely to be able to do all of this from home . . .
OK -- here's Mom's recap of
Christmas with the Triplets
by
Barbara M. Tobias
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Matthew was running full tilt: through the den, around the corner into the living room, on into the dining room, back down the hall through the kitchen to make the full circle. Alexander was right behind him with William gaining fast. All three giggling and squealing with sheer delight. You don’t know how loud the pitter-patter of little feet can be until there are six little feet running, all fueled by the M&Ms they managed to get their hands on and the excitement of Christmas Eve.
They are not quite sure yet just what this Santa guy is up to, but everyone else is excited, so they’re in high gear too. Not enough to give serious consideration to being “good” but enough to lift the decibel level.
After they are finally asleep—at least we think they are sleeping—the six adults creep up the stairs to put Santa’s loot together. There is a bicycle. A real two-wheeler with training wheels. And there is a tricycle posing as a motorcycle complete with all the vroom-vroom sounds when you push a button. But the star of the show is a Hummer. Mustard yellow, squat and awesome. It runs on a rechargeable battery, moves when you press the “gas” pedal, turns when you turn the steering wheel, and even goes into reverse.
We were a motley team: two salespeople, one medical tech, one college professor, one computer programmer, and (thank Heaven) one mechanical engineer. But in spite of the somewhat limited qualifications, we managed to get most of the toys assembled. Getting the Hummer down the stairs was a challenge, but we were up to it.
And then we opened the box containing the table that was supposed to play host to a train track, trestle, bridges, and even the train. It contained no less than two dozen pieces, a bag of assorted screws, nuts and bolts, and not one single word of instruction. A three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. The professor and the programmer looked at it, looked at each other, and called the engineer. There was a bit of trial and error. We discovered that you cannot put the drawer stops in place before the drawer is in its slots. We also discovered that right and left have meaning even when they are not marked.
There was much laughing and head scratching and video taking. I suspect the latter may lead to a bit of blackmail somewhere down the line, but not at Christmas, surely. We even managed to get the monster down the staircase and in place under the tree before exhaustion set in and we all fell into bed.
The first thing I saw when I stumbled into the room with the toys after the boys woke on Christmas morning was Will. He had a railroad car in each hand and was moving them carefully over the tracks. He continued to do so for the next two hours, ignoring all efforts to get him to open presents, play with bicycles or radio-controlled cars. He even ignored the mighty Hummer.
Matthew opened his own presents and was more than glad to help anyone else open theirs if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. Alex climbed on the tricycle and immediately mastered pushing buttons to make noises, although his real aim was to regain possession of the M&Ms that had been confiscated the evening before.
But the thing I will always remember about this Christmas is hearing the mother’s voice as I sat nursing a cup of coffee in the dining room: “No, Matthew, the Hummer will not fit into the kitchen.”
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
My mom has written a lively, yet short recap of the experience. I'm still waiting on her permission to post it, but while I wait, I'll just let you know that I returned from Texas with a lovely cold and earache (thanks, boys!) that is just now beginning to simmer down.
Meanwhile, I'm working away on lots of projects, getting ready for next week when classes start, student teaching supervision begins, and I'll be making a trip to the center of the state to do some professional development in Casper.
It's lovely to be able to do all of this from home . . .
OK -- here's Mom's recap of
Christmas with the Triplets
by
Barbara M. Tobias
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Matthew was running full tilt: through the den, around the corner into the living room, on into the dining room, back down the hall through the kitchen to make the full circle. Alexander was right behind him with William gaining fast. All three giggling and squealing with sheer delight. You don’t know how loud the pitter-patter of little feet can be until there are six little feet running, all fueled by the M&Ms they managed to get their hands on and the excitement of Christmas Eve.
They are not quite sure yet just what this Santa guy is up to, but everyone else is excited, so they’re in high gear too. Not enough to give serious consideration to being “good” but enough to lift the decibel level.
After they are finally asleep—at least we think they are sleeping—the six adults creep up the stairs to put Santa’s loot together. There is a bicycle. A real two-wheeler with training wheels. And there is a tricycle posing as a motorcycle complete with all the vroom-vroom sounds when you push a button. But the star of the show is a Hummer. Mustard yellow, squat and awesome. It runs on a rechargeable battery, moves when you press the “gas” pedal, turns when you turn the steering wheel, and even goes into reverse.
We were a motley team: two salespeople, one medical tech, one college professor, one computer programmer, and (thank Heaven) one mechanical engineer. But in spite of the somewhat limited qualifications, we managed to get most of the toys assembled. Getting the Hummer down the stairs was a challenge, but we were up to it.
And then we opened the box containing the table that was supposed to play host to a train track, trestle, bridges, and even the train. It contained no less than two dozen pieces, a bag of assorted screws, nuts and bolts, and not one single word of instruction. A three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. The professor and the programmer looked at it, looked at each other, and called the engineer. There was a bit of trial and error. We discovered that you cannot put the drawer stops in place before the drawer is in its slots. We also discovered that right and left have meaning even when they are not marked.
There was much laughing and head scratching and video taking. I suspect the latter may lead to a bit of blackmail somewhere down the line, but not at Christmas, surely. We even managed to get the monster down the staircase and in place under the tree before exhaustion set in and we all fell into bed.
The first thing I saw when I stumbled into the room with the toys after the boys woke on Christmas morning was Will. He had a railroad car in each hand and was moving them carefully over the tracks. He continued to do so for the next two hours, ignoring all efforts to get him to open presents, play with bicycles or radio-controlled cars. He even ignored the mighty Hummer.
Matthew opened his own presents and was more than glad to help anyone else open theirs if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. Alex climbed on the tricycle and immediately mastered pushing buttons to make noises, although his real aim was to regain possession of the M&Ms that had been confiscated the evening before.
But the thing I will always remember about this Christmas is hearing the mother’s voice as I sat nursing a cup of coffee in the dining room: “No, Matthew, the Hummer will not fit into the kitchen.”
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Not So Much
Apparently, I'm not going to take over the universe.
Not this year, anyway.
Had a meeting yesterday in which I was able to
*** not get what I asked for;
*** make a complete and utter fool of myself; and
*** feel betrayed and used,
all in the space of an hour and a half.
Lovely.
On the other hand, I got a phone call from my younger brother (father of triplets; all boys; 2 1/2 years old)and my sister-in-law that left me smiling. Family can do that, can't they? I'm so looking forward to seeing the boys for Christmas, and having a huge family blow-out holiday. Should be just the antidote for the bitterness I'm currently experiencing.
Not this year, anyway.
Had a meeting yesterday in which I was able to
*** not get what I asked for;
*** make a complete and utter fool of myself; and
*** feel betrayed and used,
all in the space of an hour and a half.
Lovely.
On the other hand, I got a phone call from my younger brother (father of triplets; all boys; 2 1/2 years old)and my sister-in-law that left me smiling. Family can do that, can't they? I'm so looking forward to seeing the boys for Christmas, and having a huge family blow-out holiday. Should be just the antidote for the bitterness I'm currently experiencing.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Queen of Grading
In the last three days I have graded
30 multigenre essential question compositions
17 unit designs
numerous assorted articles of late work
and now I have only
4 (FOUR) unit designs
and
7 10-page papers
to go.
I am the undisputed queen. Soon I will rule the universe.
30 multigenre essential question compositions
17 unit designs
numerous assorted articles of late work
and now I have only
4 (FOUR) unit designs
and
7 10-page papers
to go.
I am the undisputed queen. Soon I will rule the universe.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Commencing Today
Have I mentioned how much I love graduation ceremonies? I'm not sure if it's because I get to dress up in goofy looking, but oh-so-luxurious robes; or maybe it's seeing all of those parents' faces as their baby walks in the processional. Maybe it's the sappy speeches that seriously bring a tear to my eye (although, I have to confess, I often get teary-eyed at commercials, so that's not saying much). Is it the chance to see students -- both undergraduate and graduate -- who also look goofy in their robes and pizza box hats, by the way -- strutting their stuff across the stage? Sitting with my colleagues and standing up to applaud the parents, children, brothers and sisters, spouses who have been supportive of the graduates?
I can't say, but I love it. And today, there was only one person graduating who was in my class. Next May, when this year's English education majors graduate, I'll be a basket of quivering emotional jelly. This is one of the best reasons to be a teacher.
Sappy, I know.
I can't say, but I love it. And today, there was only one person graduating who was in my class. Next May, when this year's English education majors graduate, I'll be a basket of quivering emotional jelly. This is one of the best reasons to be a teacher.
Sappy, I know.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Homecoming
In the middle of a meeting, my department secretary handed me a Fed Ex package, which I hugged, kissed, and then lovingly opened. That's right. My composition book has been returned to me, and I've already begun to write in it again.
Thanks, Concierge Rosello!
Thanks, Concierge Rosello!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Missing Composition Book
While at the airport in Miami on Friday, I wanted to write down a very important thought and went rifling through my backpack for my composition book. Now, for the last year or so, I've carried a composition book with me to every meeting, conference, class, and coffee shop trip, so it's become quite an important part of my life.
Missing. Composition. Book.
It has notes in it for articles I want to write, revisions to classes I'll teach again next year, ideas for research projects, to-do lists for every day of every week, poetry I'm in the midst of, and wandering thoughts about my identity, status, tenure potential, etc. Very important.
Here's what happened:
I was in Miami for the National Reading Conference, which is a fantastic opportunity to get tons of information and ideas, but also my one chance to see friends from graduate school. One of those friends from graduate school and I went out to dinner (a Cuban place -- the food was supposed to be good, but ended up being mediocre) and I didn't want to go back up to my room to put away my composition book. So . . . you guessed it, I left it with the concierge, very carefully taping my room number on the front of the book.
When I came back, we sat in the bar and had drinks, it got late, I got sleepy, so I headed up to my room. The next morning, I had a flight at 7 AM, so I left the hotel at 5:15, again completely forgetting about my life in the composition book at the concierge table.
So, Eduardo, I've sent you an email and spoken to you on the phone. If all of the planets are aligned, and if you read this, please, please, please send me my composition book. I'll be eternally grateful.
Missing. Composition. Book.
It has notes in it for articles I want to write, revisions to classes I'll teach again next year, ideas for research projects, to-do lists for every day of every week, poetry I'm in the midst of, and wandering thoughts about my identity, status, tenure potential, etc. Very important.
Here's what happened:
I was in Miami for the National Reading Conference, which is a fantastic opportunity to get tons of information and ideas, but also my one chance to see friends from graduate school. One of those friends from graduate school and I went out to dinner (a Cuban place -- the food was supposed to be good, but ended up being mediocre) and I didn't want to go back up to my room to put away my composition book. So . . . you guessed it, I left it with the concierge, very carefully taping my room number on the front of the book.
When I came back, we sat in the bar and had drinks, it got late, I got sleepy, so I headed up to my room. The next morning, I had a flight at 7 AM, so I left the hotel at 5:15, again completely forgetting about my life in the composition book at the concierge table.
So, Eduardo, I've sent you an email and spoken to you on the phone. If all of the planets are aligned, and if you read this, please, please, please send me my composition book. I'll be eternally grateful.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Highlights of the National Council of Teachers of English
I just returned from Pittsburgh, where I attended the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) annual convention, one that I have been attending regularly for the last few years. As usual, I ate too much, got too little exercise and sleep, and generally had a marvelous time.
HIGHLIGHTS:
*** Dinner on Friday night with about 60 members of the Talkies, a listserv of English teachers who have been my online and in-person friends since I joined several years ago. We ate at Mallorca, a lovely restaurant near one of the rivers in Pittsburgh (don't ask me which one). The waiters were funny and good-looking, the conversation was stimulating, the food was delicious. Good times all around.
*** Attending a session by Leila Christenbury, Anne Gere, and Kelly Sassi on strategies to help students become skilled at on-demand writing (picture the state assessments here) WITHOUT making test prep part of our curriculum. My methods class has been concerned about this issue, and I now have some great ideas to share with them, as well as a book to suggest (Writing on Demand by Christenbury, Gere, and Sassi).
*** Several dinners with teachers from Johnson Junior High School in Cheyenne, who are dedicated and caring teachers of their students. They are AWESOME people, amazing dinner companions, and very funny to boot. If there's anything I can help with, you guys, let me know!
*** Getting to spend time with Beth, a former student teacher, who is now teaching English in Wyoming. When she said to me, "I love these kids -- and they need me," I couldn't help but get a shiver. Makes me feel like I'm having an impact, and I love that!
*** A serious brainstorm while sitting on the plane, on the way home. I took out a draft of an article and revised the crap out of it, with the end result that it is about ready to send out. Just one more session and it should be done. I think I needed that opportunity to get my mind OFF the list of things to do here, and it got seriously into writing mode.
*** More great materials and ideas for my methods class. In addition, I'm setting up a blog with a few other English ed folks to discuss how we handle the teaching of reading comprehension strategies and pop culture/media literacy in the methods class. I'm also about to start moderating a listserv for those who attended the CEE colloquium on Monday, which was also about pop culture in the English/methods classroom.
*** Several people attended the policy session that we presented, and we have lots of ideas about developing an action network, beginning with those who came. It feels great to be involved and helping people to connect!
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. I'm exhausted, but it's a good tired.
Now, to get ready for Thanksgiving . . .
HIGHLIGHTS:
*** Dinner on Friday night with about 60 members of the Talkies, a listserv of English teachers who have been my online and in-person friends since I joined several years ago. We ate at Mallorca, a lovely restaurant near one of the rivers in Pittsburgh (don't ask me which one). The waiters were funny and good-looking, the conversation was stimulating, the food was delicious. Good times all around.
*** Attending a session by Leila Christenbury, Anne Gere, and Kelly Sassi on strategies to help students become skilled at on-demand writing (picture the state assessments here) WITHOUT making test prep part of our curriculum. My methods class has been concerned about this issue, and I now have some great ideas to share with them, as well as a book to suggest (Writing on Demand by Christenbury, Gere, and Sassi).
*** Several dinners with teachers from Johnson Junior High School in Cheyenne, who are dedicated and caring teachers of their students. They are AWESOME people, amazing dinner companions, and very funny to boot. If there's anything I can help with, you guys, let me know!
*** Getting to spend time with Beth, a former student teacher, who is now teaching English in Wyoming. When she said to me, "I love these kids -- and they need me," I couldn't help but get a shiver. Makes me feel like I'm having an impact, and I love that!
*** A serious brainstorm while sitting on the plane, on the way home. I took out a draft of an article and revised the crap out of it, with the end result that it is about ready to send out. Just one more session and it should be done. I think I needed that opportunity to get my mind OFF the list of things to do here, and it got seriously into writing mode.
*** More great materials and ideas for my methods class. In addition, I'm setting up a blog with a few other English ed folks to discuss how we handle the teaching of reading comprehension strategies and pop culture/media literacy in the methods class. I'm also about to start moderating a listserv for those who attended the CEE colloquium on Monday, which was also about pop culture in the English/methods classroom.
*** Several people attended the policy session that we presented, and we have lots of ideas about developing an action network, beginning with those who came. It feels great to be involved and helping people to connect!
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. I'm exhausted, but it's a good tired.
Now, to get ready for Thanksgiving . . .
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Dialogue from a Stockyard Painting
This bit of a dialogue came about when I was sitting through a meeting that was insufferably boring. On the wall of the meeting room was a painting of 5 men, sitting around a table in a stockyard. It depicted a western scene, western men, with some topic under discussion. I decided that my time could be better spent imagining the characters of the men and creating a bit of dialogue. Here's what came out:
Dialogue from a Stockyard Painting.
Characters:
Jedediah Montgomery: A rancher from Colorado, Jed spent his youth as a candidate for the priesthood. After an experience of the “dark night of the soul” brought on by heavy drinking and profligate sexual activity, Jed returned to his father’s ranch. He has now taken over the ranch and is a candidate for the Colorado House of Representatives.
Arthur Holland: Arthur is a circuit judge in Wyoming and Montana, well respected for his sagacity as well as his understanding of Western customs and values. Arthur was a Pony Express rider and is most at home on horseback.
Frank Marsden: The youngest son in a family of 14 children, Frank has bounced from one career to another, from one wife to another, and from one state to another. Currently homeless and unmarried, Frank is a closeted homosexual. The majority of his energy is spent hiding this fact from his older brother, William
William Marsden: The patriarchal oldest brother, William rules both his family and Golden County, Montana, with an iron fist. Feared by everyone who knows him, William has no friends and many enemies. He is the larges landowner in Golden County, president of the county school board, a county commissioner, leader of the city council of Jewel, Montana, and the father of 6 children. He is also a deacon in the Jewel First Baptist Church.
Flippo Harthead: The town drunk of Jewel, Montana, Flippo grew up in Boston and moved out west after the death of his sweetheart, Clara. Highly educated and sophisticated, though often intoxicated, Flippo rarely speaks.
Scene: All 5 have gathered for a conversation on the last evening of the Golden County Fair. The big event of the day was the Prison Rodeo, which was held in the very arena in which they are meeting.
William: (bangs fist on the table, rises, and bounces on his toes, looming over the others) (Shouts) Jed, this is complete BULLSHIT! Totally out of line, and I’m not going to stand for it.
Jedediah: (shrinks back in chair)
Arthur and Frank (together): Now William, let’s be sensible. William, please. . .
William: (thundering): Jed. What do you say?
(Long, uncomfortable pause, during which Jed looks down at the table and slowly straightens his spine)
Jedediah: (Quietly) I’m not changing it, Mr. Marsden. I can’t. And I won’t.
Arthur: Look, Will. It’s a public rodeo, a public event, for crying out loud. The winner has been announced, the prize was awarded. You saw the crowd, the way they clapped and cheered when Rodney was announced. He’s their golden boy, no matter what he’s done. We can’t reasonably do anything about it now.
William: I don’t care about reasonable – I could give a shit about reasonable. I want results.
Frank: Look, William, it’s all going to work out. Penelope knows how you feel about Rodney –
William: (snarling) I’m Penelope’s father, and I’m the one who will break that little rat’s neck if he comes anywhere near my daughter again.
(Long pause.)
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. Here’s the idea – Jed is a judge at the Prison Rodeo. The conflict involves William’s daughter, Penelope, who is pregnant by a prisoner, Rodney, who competed in the rodeo and won. The prize for the winner: release from prison, unconditionally.
William attempts to force Jedediah to change his ruling – using blackmail and other forceful methods.
Dialogue from a Stockyard Painting.
Characters:
Jedediah Montgomery: A rancher from Colorado, Jed spent his youth as a candidate for the priesthood. After an experience of the “dark night of the soul” brought on by heavy drinking and profligate sexual activity, Jed returned to his father’s ranch. He has now taken over the ranch and is a candidate for the Colorado House of Representatives.
Arthur Holland: Arthur is a circuit judge in Wyoming and Montana, well respected for his sagacity as well as his understanding of Western customs and values. Arthur was a Pony Express rider and is most at home on horseback.
Frank Marsden: The youngest son in a family of 14 children, Frank has bounced from one career to another, from one wife to another, and from one state to another. Currently homeless and unmarried, Frank is a closeted homosexual. The majority of his energy is spent hiding this fact from his older brother, William
William Marsden: The patriarchal oldest brother, William rules both his family and Golden County, Montana, with an iron fist. Feared by everyone who knows him, William has no friends and many enemies. He is the larges landowner in Golden County, president of the county school board, a county commissioner, leader of the city council of Jewel, Montana, and the father of 6 children. He is also a deacon in the Jewel First Baptist Church.
Flippo Harthead: The town drunk of Jewel, Montana, Flippo grew up in Boston and moved out west after the death of his sweetheart, Clara. Highly educated and sophisticated, though often intoxicated, Flippo rarely speaks.
Scene: All 5 have gathered for a conversation on the last evening of the Golden County Fair. The big event of the day was the Prison Rodeo, which was held in the very arena in which they are meeting.
William: (bangs fist on the table, rises, and bounces on his toes, looming over the others) (Shouts) Jed, this is complete BULLSHIT! Totally out of line, and I’m not going to stand for it.
Jedediah: (shrinks back in chair)
Arthur and Frank (together): Now William, let’s be sensible. William, please. . .
William: (thundering): Jed. What do you say?
(Long, uncomfortable pause, during which Jed looks down at the table and slowly straightens his spine)
Jedediah: (Quietly) I’m not changing it, Mr. Marsden. I can’t. And I won’t.
Arthur: Look, Will. It’s a public rodeo, a public event, for crying out loud. The winner has been announced, the prize was awarded. You saw the crowd, the way they clapped and cheered when Rodney was announced. He’s their golden boy, no matter what he’s done. We can’t reasonably do anything about it now.
William: I don’t care about reasonable – I could give a shit about reasonable. I want results.
Frank: Look, William, it’s all going to work out. Penelope knows how you feel about Rodney –
William: (snarling) I’m Penelope’s father, and I’m the one who will break that little rat’s neck if he comes anywhere near my daughter again.
(Long pause.)
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. Here’s the idea – Jed is a judge at the Prison Rodeo. The conflict involves William’s daughter, Penelope, who is pregnant by a prisoner, Rodney, who competed in the rodeo and won. The prize for the winner: release from prison, unconditionally.
William attempts to force Jedediah to change his ruling – using blackmail and other forceful methods.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
On Today's Schedule
New refrigerator being delivered -- right now
African Students' Association Celebration -- 4:00 PM
UW/BYU Football Game (yes, I'm a season ticket holder) -- 4:00 PM
[Hmm. Bit of a conflict there.]
Housewarming Party at a Colleague's House -- 7:00
Interspersed among these things -- grading innumerable papers and stewing over my methods classes.
Should be a fun day!
African Students' Association Celebration -- 4:00 PM
UW/BYU Football Game (yes, I'm a season ticket holder) -- 4:00 PM
[Hmm. Bit of a conflict there.]
Housewarming Party at a Colleague's House -- 7:00
Interspersed among these things -- grading innumerable papers and stewing over my methods classes.
Should be a fun day!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Whirlwind
A meeting today left me with a familiar feeling. Familiar, that is, from the time when I was teaching high school. Things are falling apart, the world is almost ending, learning will soon cease to exist, and my place in this world is fading.
That feeling.
When I taught high school and had that feeling, it was often from hanging out too long in the teachers' lounge. Now it's from a meeting in which only the negative was addressed.
How did I handle that feeling back then? I went in my classroom, and worked hard to see that my students read and wrote and thought and spoke in deep, critical, and meaningful ways. I taught them how to comprehend what they read, to write in ways that communicated to an audience, and to ask questions. At least then, I could feel that I was making a difference, that I was doing my job well.
Once again, tomorrow, I will enter my classroom and work as hard as I can to give my students what they need. They trust me, and I will not put that trust in jeopardy.
Honestly, if we're not all about the students, what are we about? It's the only way that I have found to put the whirlwind to rest.
That feeling.
When I taught high school and had that feeling, it was often from hanging out too long in the teachers' lounge. Now it's from a meeting in which only the negative was addressed.
How did I handle that feeling back then? I went in my classroom, and worked hard to see that my students read and wrote and thought and spoke in deep, critical, and meaningful ways. I taught them how to comprehend what they read, to write in ways that communicated to an audience, and to ask questions. At least then, I could feel that I was making a difference, that I was doing my job well.
Once again, tomorrow, I will enter my classroom and work as hard as I can to give my students what they need. They trust me, and I will not put that trust in jeopardy.
Honestly, if we're not all about the students, what are we about? It's the only way that I have found to put the whirlwind to rest.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Polysemy
Polysemy -- having many meanings
Slogging through the days of
meetings, class, student conferences,
email, websites, research, writing,
I gather my equipment around me,
Take a short break to check my maps
and have a snack.
Hiking.
Through Massachusetts
in late July,
following the AT north for 200 miles
as it winds through swamps,
up and down hills,
through small towns,
I stop to wait,
breathing hard.
Leaning on my poles,
I watch while she
negotiates with a boulder field.
"Walk up the crack," I say.
"Follow that line."
Teaching.
To use the overhead projector, I must
pull down the screen.
Pull and tug as I may,
it will not stay down.
I pull up a chair,
tie a taut-line hitch,
and teach.
Hiking.
Collecting and purifying water,
Hanging a bear bag,
Setting up tents,
Cooking dinner,
Unpacking and packing gear.
The 'how-to' of daily life on the trail.
Teaching.
A colleague stops me in the hall between classes
To tell me that there is no true example
of polysemy.
"The experts argue," he says, grinning.
"And yes, I was looking over your shoulder."
No true example.
Slogging through the days of
meetings, class, student conferences,
email, websites, research, writing,
I gather my equipment around me,
Take a short break to check my maps
and have a snack.
Hiking.
Through Massachusetts
in late July,
following the AT north for 200 miles
as it winds through swamps,
up and down hills,
through small towns,
I stop to wait,
breathing hard.
Leaning on my poles,
I watch while she
negotiates with a boulder field.
"Walk up the crack," I say.
"Follow that line."
Teaching.
To use the overhead projector, I must
pull down the screen.
Pull and tug as I may,
it will not stay down.
I pull up a chair,
tie a taut-line hitch,
and teach.
Hiking.
Collecting and purifying water,
Hanging a bear bag,
Setting up tents,
Cooking dinner,
Unpacking and packing gear.
The 'how-to' of daily life on the trail.
Teaching.
A colleague stops me in the hall between classes
To tell me that there is no true example
of polysemy.
"The experts argue," he says, grinning.
"And yes, I was looking over your shoulder."
No true example.
Monday, October 10, 2005
First Snow of the Season!
The snow began last night, while I was busily painting a window downtown for homecoming (long story -- we've got a wolf on a spit and a cowboy blowing fire). That was a bit cold, but it was followed by a nice steak dinner at home and a good bottle of red wine. Lovely.
This morning as I look out my office window, the snow is still sticking to the ground, but not to the roads. I'm ready to get my skis tuned up and hit the slopes.
I'm not feeling quite so stressed this week, though goodness knows I probably should be. Still lots to do, but I feel it's doable.
This morning as I look out my office window, the snow is still sticking to the ground, but not to the roads. I'm ready to get my skis tuned up and hit the slopes.
I'm not feeling quite so stressed this week, though goodness knows I probably should be. Still lots to do, but I feel it's doable.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Arctic Softball
This morning, when I left home to head for work, it was 29 degrees Fahrenheit. I'm sitting in my office now, though the sun is shining outside, with a warm and fuzzy muffler wrapped around my neck. There's a draft through the window! I could turn the heat on, but then the violets in my office would die.
Last night, in order to prove my insanity, I agreed to fill in on an intramural softball team made up mostly profs and grad students. Naturally, we were playing folks 20 years younger than me, so we lost by a grand margin of 12 points.
The interesting thing, for me, was to be on a softball team again after probably 15 years of non-softball life. I was placed in right field (which was good! I used to play left field, but I'm a bit rusty at the moment). I came up to bat twice: I struck out once and hit a pop to the third baseman, which he caught.
I'm happy that I didn't completely disgrace myself.
It was cold, though, the Wyoming wind howling across the intramural fields. I did a lot of running, and that kept me warm. My wonderful husband showed his devotion by coming out to watch. Some cold entertainment, that.
Last night, in order to prove my insanity, I agreed to fill in on an intramural softball team made up mostly profs and grad students. Naturally, we were playing folks 20 years younger than me, so we lost by a grand margin of 12 points.
The interesting thing, for me, was to be on a softball team again after probably 15 years of non-softball life. I was placed in right field (which was good! I used to play left field, but I'm a bit rusty at the moment). I came up to bat twice: I struck out once and hit a pop to the third baseman, which he caught.
I'm happy that I didn't completely disgrace myself.
It was cold, though, the Wyoming wind howling across the intramural fields. I did a lot of running, and that kept me warm. My wonderful husband showed his devotion by coming out to watch. Some cold entertainment, that.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Weary
Weary.
Bone-tired.
That sweet sensation of sinking into a soft bed.
Muscles melting
breath slowing.
Pillows and blankets; fleece sheets and the dark.
Eyes closed with relief --
the deepened, undertow tug of
slipping into a warm, cozy trance.
Or having waded through a monstrous pile
of senior research papers, 15 pages each
with outline, rough draft,
footnotes and
bibliography page.
The blessed finality of placing them
firmly
in my book bag for tomorrow,
and settling down for a few pages
of that novel before
my eyes begin to blur and close.
Or at the end of a 20 mile day
the pins and needles starting in my toes
and working past my ankles to
my calves.
No pack on now, but
the pressure on my shoulders and hips
reminds me of its weight.
Hips resting on hard board,
surrounded by snores and mice and that musty, funky smell
of hikers.
Somehow, drifting off to a place
where nothing hurts.
Isn't that an unknown country?
Bone-tired.
That sweet sensation of sinking into a soft bed.
Muscles melting
breath slowing.
Pillows and blankets; fleece sheets and the dark.
Eyes closed with relief --
the deepened, undertow tug of
slipping into a warm, cozy trance.
Or having waded through a monstrous pile
of senior research papers, 15 pages each
with outline, rough draft,
footnotes and
bibliography page.
The blessed finality of placing them
firmly
in my book bag for tomorrow,
and settling down for a few pages
of that novel before
my eyes begin to blur and close.
Or at the end of a 20 mile day
the pins and needles starting in my toes
and working past my ankles to
my calves.
No pack on now, but
the pressure on my shoulders and hips
reminds me of its weight.
Hips resting on hard board,
surrounded by snores and mice and that musty, funky smell
of hikers.
Somehow, drifting off to a place
where nothing hurts.
Isn't that an unknown country?
So Much to Do
It has come to my attention that I have been a BAD blogger of late. So, in place of posting a witty statement about my stress level, I'm going to substitute a list of things I need to get done this week:
Prepare research presentation for today's faculty meeting
Re-read materials for tomorrow's classes
Plan for tomorrow's classes
Grade a shitload of papers before tomorrow's classes
Meet with a couple of students individually who are struggling in said classes
Finalize paperwork for the TWO search committees I'm chairing
Write a review of a book I haven't finished reading
Finish my multigenre manuscript and send it out to a journal (with fingers crossed)
Read and respond to a grad student's thesis
Make plane reservations for Christmas trip
Prepare presentations for NCTE (late November) and NRC (early December)
I could go on, but I've got some things to do . . .
All of this is not to have anyone feel sorry for me, but just to say that blogging has to take a low priority for the moment. I do love my job! More posts later . . .
Prepare research presentation for today's faculty meeting
Re-read materials for tomorrow's classes
Plan for tomorrow's classes
Grade a shitload of papers before tomorrow's classes
Meet with a couple of students individually who are struggling in said classes
Finalize paperwork for the TWO search committees I'm chairing
Write a review of a book I haven't finished reading
Finish my multigenre manuscript and send it out to a journal (with fingers crossed)
Read and respond to a grad student's thesis
Make plane reservations for Christmas trip
Prepare presentations for NCTE (late November) and NRC (early December)
I could go on, but I've got some things to do . . .
All of this is not to have anyone feel sorry for me, but just to say that blogging has to take a low priority for the moment. I do love my job! More posts later . . .
Friday, September 16, 2005
Haircut (just a trim)
I really dislike and abhor going to get haircuts. There is something nauseating about sitting in front of a mirror, staring at myself -- and what is it with that lighting? you know? the kind that makes you look like a corpse? -- while wrapped up to the chin in a black drape, and making forced conversation with someone who couldn't give two shits about me and about whom I couldn't give two shits either.
In spite of this horror, I did actually get a haircut today. I've been working up to it for several weeks, feeling the crispy ends of my hair and thinking "You really need to get a haircut. Soon."
It actually wasn't that bad. The hairdresser wasn't in the least bit creepy (unlike the guy I had last time, who seemed to get way too much enjoyment out of combing out my hair. Eeeew.) and as soon as she saw my turtle tattoo, we were off to the races chatting about turtles and frogs we had bought, known, loved, and lost.
Not to mention ex-husbands, but that is a story not worth getting into.
Anyway, I'm spending my time now feeling the ends of my hair with a satisfied smile. No longer crispy.
In spite of this horror, I did actually get a haircut today. I've been working up to it for several weeks, feeling the crispy ends of my hair and thinking "You really need to get a haircut. Soon."
It actually wasn't that bad. The hairdresser wasn't in the least bit creepy (unlike the guy I had last time, who seemed to get way too much enjoyment out of combing out my hair. Eeeew.) and as soon as she saw my turtle tattoo, we were off to the races chatting about turtles and frogs we had bought, known, loved, and lost.
Not to mention ex-husbands, but that is a story not worth getting into.
Anyway, I'm spending my time now feeling the ends of my hair with a satisfied smile. No longer crispy.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Getting to "No"
My application for a small grant was frowned on by the grant-gods and trashed. That's the way it goes, I understand, and I'll get over it. (Voice in the back of my mind says "I'll Deal.") I haven't read the reviewers' comments yet, and I'm not sure if I want to. I'm planning on doing the research anyway; I'll be using my own money to do it.
I also had an idea for a sabbatical today -- one that involves lots of travel in order to build networks of English teachers in my state and to understand how teachers teach.
So, in other words, the best way to handle this letdown is to immerse myself in other work and to keep on doing the things I do well (one of which is apparently NOT grant writing!).
I have to admit, though, I'm feeling a bit used.
I also had an idea for a sabbatical today -- one that involves lots of travel in order to build networks of English teachers in my state and to understand how teachers teach.
So, in other words, the best way to handle this letdown is to immerse myself in other work and to keep on doing the things I do well (one of which is apparently NOT grant writing!).
I have to admit, though, I'm feeling a bit used.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Maturity (or the lack of it)
I am beginning to think that it was easier to be patient with high school students (back when I taught high school) than it is to be patient with the college students that I currently teach. I have found myself -- this week -- coming close to losing my temper during class, when my college students speak/act in ways that either offend me or with which I disagree.
Is that just because I'm getting older?
I certainly expect my college students to exhibit a higher level of maturity than I did my high school students. Perhaps it is the lack of fulfillment of this expectation that is bothering me.
Or maybe I'm just overworked.
Either way, I have to deal with it. (This, by the way, is the newest saying that Red and I got from our backpacking trip. I.E. Question: "What if it rains?" Answer: "We'll deal with it."
"Dealing with it" in this case will involve two fronts
1. Handle my anger constructively (translation: work out like a demon)
2. Confront, privately, those students who are causing me grief.
3. Spend as much time as possible with my wonderful spouse, whose presence is soothing to me.
There! all done. Now for the real work.
Is that just because I'm getting older?
I certainly expect my college students to exhibit a higher level of maturity than I did my high school students. Perhaps it is the lack of fulfillment of this expectation that is bothering me.
Or maybe I'm just overworked.
Either way, I have to deal with it. (This, by the way, is the newest saying that Red and I got from our backpacking trip. I.E. Question: "What if it rains?" Answer: "We'll deal with it."
"Dealing with it" in this case will involve two fronts
1. Handle my anger constructively (translation: work out like a demon)
2. Confront, privately, those students who are causing me grief.
3. Spend as much time as possible with my wonderful spouse, whose presence is soothing to me.
There! all done. Now for the real work.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Hiking Done, and Now for School
Having successfully hiked a 230-mile section of the AT through Massachusetts and Vermont (and having lost 10 pounds in the process -- YEAH ME!) I am back at school and in the thick of teaching classes. I'm basically teaching two classes this semester -- both English methods classes. The morning class is focusing on teaching writing at the secondary school level and is HUGE (for me, I mean). 31 students. Plus I'm co-teaching with a grad student, which is a new experience for me. So far we've had one incredibly hectic day, in which we were only able to get through half of what we had planned, and one lovely day (today) in which I was totally impressed with my students' work ethic and depth of thought. I do really love my job.
In the afternoons, I teach another English methods classes which focuses on teaching literature. This one is smaller, populated by my seniors who will begin their student teaching in the spring, and my post-bacs who already have degrees and are working on certification and getting some graduate credit. These folks are great as well, and so far things are going smoothly with that class. I'm sure some personality issues will crop up (they always do!) but it hasn't happened yet and that makes me happy.
I still have to come up with an essential question for my writing class, and I'm wavering between two:
1. How can I do a better job of merging my hiking self and my teaching self?
2. How can I do a better job of working with mentor teachers in the schools?
Neither of those questions is phrased exactly as I want it to be, but I'll keep working on it. I have until Tuesday.
Plus, the UW Cowboys play Florida on Saturday (can you say odds are against us?) and I'm excited about football season opening.
I know, I know, I'm an English teacher; why am I interested in football? I can't help it.
In the afternoons, I teach another English methods classes which focuses on teaching literature. This one is smaller, populated by my seniors who will begin their student teaching in the spring, and my post-bacs who already have degrees and are working on certification and getting some graduate credit. These folks are great as well, and so far things are going smoothly with that class. I'm sure some personality issues will crop up (they always do!) but it hasn't happened yet and that makes me happy.
I still have to come up with an essential question for my writing class, and I'm wavering between two:
1. How can I do a better job of merging my hiking self and my teaching self?
2. How can I do a better job of working with mentor teachers in the schools?
Neither of those questions is phrased exactly as I want it to be, but I'll keep working on it. I have until Tuesday.
Plus, the UW Cowboys play Florida on Saturday (can you say odds are against us?) and I'm excited about football season opening.
I know, I know, I'm an English teacher; why am I interested in football? I can't help it.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Hiking on the AT
I've spent the last 8 days hiking in New England -- we started in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, and are now in Bennington, Vermont. (I'm writing this from the public library in Bennington, where the librarian is giving me the hairy eyeball even now).
The hiking is going well -- no blisters, just some sore feet. We've done 94 miles and have about 130 left to go. It's a great time, and I love it. But I have to say, I'm missing my oh-so-wonderful spouse in the worst way. I think we were born to be hiking partners.
Must go, as my computer terminal will self-destruct if I go over my one-hour allotment.
The hiking is going well -- no blisters, just some sore feet. We've done 94 miles and have about 130 left to go. It's a great time, and I love it. But I have to say, I'm missing my oh-so-wonderful spouse in the worst way. I think we were born to be hiking partners.
Must go, as my computer terminal will self-destruct if I go over my one-hour allotment.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Gone Hiking
Dear Small Audience of Reader(s):
I'm leaving this evening with a great friend and now hiking partner (Red) to fly off to the Appalachian Trail in Massachusetts and Vermont. I should be gone a month, barring any unfortunate occurrences, and we will be hiking about 230 miles on the AT, from South Egremont, Massachusetts, to Hanover, New Hampshire. Once this section is hiked, I'll have only a couple hundred more miles in southern Maine to finish up.
Of course, before I leave, I must run around town like a chicken with my head cut off, getting everything done that I should have done last week.
If you see my spouse, give him a hug for me. He so wishes he could go with me, but can't get the vacation time.
If you're one of my students, keep a stiff upper lip. You'll do fine without me . . . and I'll be back in late August.
In the meantime, happy trails to you -- enjoy the rest of your summer!
I'm leaving this evening with a great friend and now hiking partner (Red) to fly off to the Appalachian Trail in Massachusetts and Vermont. I should be gone a month, barring any unfortunate occurrences, and we will be hiking about 230 miles on the AT, from South Egremont, Massachusetts, to Hanover, New Hampshire. Once this section is hiked, I'll have only a couple hundred more miles in southern Maine to finish up.
Of course, before I leave, I must run around town like a chicken with my head cut off, getting everything done that I should have done last week.
If you see my spouse, give him a hug for me. He so wishes he could go with me, but can't get the vacation time.
If you're one of my students, keep a stiff upper lip. You'll do fine without me . . . and I'll be back in late August.
In the meantime, happy trails to you -- enjoy the rest of your summer!
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Sneeze Attack
So, yesterday a friend and I drove out to the Platte River Wilderness for a day-long hike. We are getting ready for our trip out to the AT in Massachusetts and Vermont, so we both carried our packs, full of gear and a bit of food. Not the same weight as we'll be carrying there, but enough to get a sense of what it will be like. This "getting the sense" thing is important as the friend who is going with me (trailname: Red) has never been on a backpacking trip before. We'd done one other full-day hike (about 7 miles) and she experienced some pain in the balls of her feet, so we wanted to give the experience another chance to see if Advil and some different shoe inserts would help.
We arrived at about 9:30 and were hiking by 10. We kept with my new hiking plan of stopping every hour for a short break, and all went very well. Red was experiencing a bit of pain, but it was manageable; at the end of a 10-mile day, she said "With another break, I could have hiked some more."
This is very good news, as we're planning to hike about 10 miles a day in Massachusetts/Vermont.
The bad news was that as soon as we started hiking, I started to sneeze. The scenery was beautiful, it was VERY warm, and the wildflowers and grasses were out in abundance. Needless to say, hiking while sneezing and constantly blowing one's nose is not the most pleasant (or elegant) way to spend the day.
Made it through, however, and I'm feeling better today. Drugs help.
We arrived at about 9:30 and were hiking by 10. We kept with my new hiking plan of stopping every hour for a short break, and all went very well. Red was experiencing a bit of pain, but it was manageable; at the end of a 10-mile day, she said "With another break, I could have hiked some more."
This is very good news, as we're planning to hike about 10 miles a day in Massachusetts/Vermont.
The bad news was that as soon as we started hiking, I started to sneeze. The scenery was beautiful, it was VERY warm, and the wildflowers and grasses were out in abundance. Needless to say, hiking while sneezing and constantly blowing one's nose is not the most pleasant (or elegant) way to spend the day.
Made it through, however, and I'm feeling better today. Drugs help.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
How Does This Work Again?
As I understand this tagging thing, since I got tagged by Paul, I have to answer some very personal questions about myself. In public. Since this is the very thing I've struggled with since starting this blog, and since I try to operate my life from my mantra -- "You have to do the things you're most afraid to do" [that's a paraphrase of a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt, one that I can't be bothered to look up at the moment.]
Oh, ok, here's the actual quote:
'You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'
And that combined with this one:
'You must do the things you think you cannot do. '
equals my habit in life.
But enough about that, on to the questions!
1. What are three of the stupidest things you have done in your life?
A. Marrying my first husband, who turned out -- in spite of being the golden boy of his church -- to be a womanizer and a firm believer in the superiority of males and of my place as subservient to him. I doubt he would admit to either of those, but from my perspective, it is the truth.
B. Allowing the heat, lack of water, loneliness, and my anxiety over my research to sidestep me from the Appalachian Trail (although temporarily) in 2001. I still regret the fact that I decided not to hike those miles in New England, while I was there. Now I have to make a series of special trips to get those miles done, and I'm always questioning my status as a thru-hiker.
C. OK, now this one is complicated. I chose to do my dissertation research (in the field of reading education) on the literacy practices of the Appalachian Trail, using qualitative methods, at a time when the field of reading was becoming narrower and more focused on print text, when government funding was only available for quantitative analyses, and when my job choices depended on the respect garnered by my dissertation and subsequent work. As a result, I got only a few job interviews, but I did get a position at the University of Wyoming, where I'm very happy with both my academic work and my opportunities to be an outdoorsy girl. So -- maybe it was a stupid mistake, but it all turned out ok in the end.
2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?
No question. My ever-loving, patient, and rational spouse, Footslogger. He is my sanity and my grounding when things get crazy in academia-world. Plus, he always comes up with fun things to do, like this.
3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up five people to dine with, who would you pick?
4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
A. That people in this country would start valuing and understanding the work that teachers do, in all its complexity.
B. That teachers who do not care about their students would quit teaching and giving the rest of us a bad name.
C. That my hair was curly.
5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.
I
'll go with Laramie, since my hometown is in Texas, and I'd rather not talk about that.
Two things I regret the city not having -- a variety of fantastic ethnic restaurants and affordable housing. Two things people should avoid -- mosquito bites (can you believe how thick they are right now?) and trying to have a quiet dinner at Altitude's on a Friday night (wow, they should get some acoustic material in there right away!).
6. Name one event that has changed your life.
No question about this. Hiking the AT in '01 and becoming a member of the thru-hiking community. In addition to giving me another persona (in addition to that of an educator, something I've been for my entire adult life), it has given me countless true friends all over the country, a new vocabulary, my dissertation research, and -- most importantly -- a sense of confidence that I can 'do the things I think I cannot do.' I'm proudest of that accomplishment.
7. Tag 5 people.
Now here's where it gets interesting. Are these people that I know read my blog? If so, I'm not sure there are any .. . .
Any of you dear readers who want to be tagged, consider yourself tagged. Donna, if you start a blog, you should start with this one!
Oh, ok, here's the actual quote:
'You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'
And that combined with this one:
'You must do the things you think you cannot do. '
equals my habit in life.
But enough about that, on to the questions!
1. What are three of the stupidest things you have done in your life?
A. Marrying my first husband, who turned out -- in spite of being the golden boy of his church -- to be a womanizer and a firm believer in the superiority of males and of my place as subservient to him. I doubt he would admit to either of those, but from my perspective, it is the truth.
B. Allowing the heat, lack of water, loneliness, and my anxiety over my research to sidestep me from the Appalachian Trail (although temporarily) in 2001. I still regret the fact that I decided not to hike those miles in New England, while I was there. Now I have to make a series of special trips to get those miles done, and I'm always questioning my status as a thru-hiker.
C. OK, now this one is complicated. I chose to do my dissertation research (in the field of reading education) on the literacy practices of the Appalachian Trail, using qualitative methods, at a time when the field of reading was becoming narrower and more focused on print text, when government funding was only available for quantitative analyses, and when my job choices depended on the respect garnered by my dissertation and subsequent work. As a result, I got only a few job interviews, but I did get a position at the University of Wyoming, where I'm very happy with both my academic work and my opportunities to be an outdoorsy girl. So -- maybe it was a stupid mistake, but it all turned out ok in the end.
2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?
No question. My ever-loving, patient, and rational spouse, Footslogger. He is my sanity and my grounding when things get crazy in academia-world. Plus, he always comes up with fun things to do, like this.
3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up five people to dine with, who would you pick?
[Can I just make a comment about the atrocious wording of this question?]
Hmm. Eleanor Roosevelt. John F. Kennedy. Mahatma Gandhi. Buddha. And George W. Bush. Maybe they can teach him something.4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
A. That people in this country would start valuing and understanding the work that teachers do, in all its complexity.
B. That teachers who do not care about their students would quit teaching and giving the rest of us a bad name.
C. That my hair was curly.
5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.
I
'll go with Laramie, since my hometown is in Texas, and I'd rather not talk about that.
Two things I regret the city not having -- a variety of fantastic ethnic restaurants and affordable housing. Two things people should avoid -- mosquito bites (can you believe how thick they are right now?) and trying to have a quiet dinner at Altitude's on a Friday night (wow, they should get some acoustic material in there right away!).
6. Name one event that has changed your life.
No question about this. Hiking the AT in '01 and becoming a member of the thru-hiking community. In addition to giving me another persona (in addition to that of an educator, something I've been for my entire adult life), it has given me countless true friends all over the country, a new vocabulary, my dissertation research, and -- most importantly -- a sense of confidence that I can 'do the things I think I cannot do.' I'm proudest of that accomplishment.
7. Tag 5 people.
Now here's where it gets interesting. Are these people that I know read my blog? If so, I'm not sure there are any .. . .
Any of you dear readers who want to be tagged, consider yourself tagged. Donna, if you start a blog, you should start with this one!
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Budget Cuts
OK, now this pisses me off. Apparently, we're all supposed to just let our education funding, health care funding, etc. go because the Bush administration has put us so deeply into the hole in order to fund a war based on misinformation.
I'm about to start phoning and emailing and writing letters to my representatives, I can promise you.
I'm about to start phoning and emailing and writing letters to my representatives, I can promise you.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Seam-Sealing is Critical
Yesterday morning we spent several hours seam-sealing our new tents. We're not finished, as we've only done the fly and not the floor, but the process reminded me of hiking through the 100-Mile Wilderness in Maine, late September, 2001. My ever-patient spouse had joined me in Monson, Maine, and we hiked together to Katahdin to finish up my thru-hike. He brought with him a new 2-person tent (I was carrying my old and well-loved Sierra Designs Lightyear CD), so that we could split the weight and sleep in the same tent. Unfortunately, he had neglected to seam-seal it.
Thus, when it rained almost the entire 9 days of our hike, we got wet. The first night that it rained, we didn't even get out our sleeping bags; we just stacked up our bandanas under the drips and slept diagonally across the tent, holding on to each other to keep warm.
Needless to say, it was not a comfortable night. Neither were the nights that followed, as all of our clothing and gear was wet, wet, wet. We stopped early the following day -- when it was only mildly misting instead of raining -- and hung our clothes on branches in the vain hopes that they would dry. Of course, they didn't.
Of course, eventually we did get to Katahdin and eventually we and our stuff got dry. (You see, every story must have a happy ending.) I did get a cold, however.
So -- we're now serious about seam-sealing. We've learned a new technique that involves using a syringe to apply the goopy stuff, and we're getting better about not dripping Sil-Net everywhere.
Anybody else have camping stories to share?
Thus, when it rained almost the entire 9 days of our hike, we got wet. The first night that it rained, we didn't even get out our sleeping bags; we just stacked up our bandanas under the drips and slept diagonally across the tent, holding on to each other to keep warm.
Needless to say, it was not a comfortable night. Neither were the nights that followed, as all of our clothing and gear was wet, wet, wet. We stopped early the following day -- when it was only mildly misting instead of raining -- and hung our clothes on branches in the vain hopes that they would dry. Of course, they didn't.
Of course, eventually we did get to Katahdin and eventually we and our stuff got dry. (You see, every story must have a happy ending.) I did get a cold, however.
So -- we're now serious about seam-sealing. We've learned a new technique that involves using a syringe to apply the goopy stuff, and we're getting better about not dripping Sil-Net everywhere.
Anybody else have camping stories to share?
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Course Cancelled due to Lack of Interest
This summer, I was supposed to teach a graduate course for our reading endorsement series on research on reading and writing instruction at the secondary level. I was truly jazzed about teaching it, as it meant I would learn a lot, and I would get to meet lots of teachers from around the state. I worked hard to find quality texts and prepare a syllabus; I have half of the daily planning done for the course.
Last week, it was decided that my course didn't have enough folks enrolled to make. You see, in the summer, a course has to have at least 16 students in order to make enough money for my salary to be paid. The most I ever had enrolled in the course was 12; by last week, I was down to 9.
I'm seriously conflicted about my reaction to this news. On one hand, I could have used the money, and -- as I said -- I was excited about the material in this course. Plus, there may be students who signed up for the course who need it in order to get their reading endorsements.
One the other hand, I could seriously use the time to get some writing done. I'm finally making some headway with the multigenre manuscript, and I still need to write up that research on the writing project in Lander. Plus, it means that I'll get to be more involved with the Wyoming Writing Project invitational, which conflicted with the schedule of my course.
So -- if any of the readership of this blog had planned to take the course (doubtful, but possible), I apologize for the inconvenience. I'll be teaching it in the spring semester of 06, when we don't have so much of an enrollment requirement, if that helps.
Last week, it was decided that my course didn't have enough folks enrolled to make. You see, in the summer, a course has to have at least 16 students in order to make enough money for my salary to be paid. The most I ever had enrolled in the course was 12; by last week, I was down to 9.
I'm seriously conflicted about my reaction to this news. On one hand, I could have used the money, and -- as I said -- I was excited about the material in this course. Plus, there may be students who signed up for the course who need it in order to get their reading endorsements.
One the other hand, I could seriously use the time to get some writing done. I'm finally making some headway with the multigenre manuscript, and I still need to write up that research on the writing project in Lander. Plus, it means that I'll get to be more involved with the Wyoming Writing Project invitational, which conflicted with the schedule of my course.
So -- if any of the readership of this blog had planned to take the course (doubtful, but possible), I apologize for the inconvenience. I'll be teaching it in the spring semester of 06, when we don't have so much of an enrollment requirement, if that helps.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Freak
I found out today -- as a result of a spine x-ray -- that I have an extra vertebra.
What does this mean?
What does this mean?
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Decompression
There was a time when I was in graduate school, just after I had successfully completed my comprehensive examinations, when I felt the need for some down time. I had worked hard on writing, doing library research, thinking, preparing for the exams, and I had this vision of my head exploding if I didn't allow myself a break. So I took about a month of what I called "decompression time." (Remember, Donna?) I didn't write, I didn't read -- at least I didn't write or read anything academic. At first I felt guilty about it, and didn't say anything to anyone about what I was NOT doing. But after a week or so, I felt the tension fall away from around my shoulders and neck, and I knew that it was the right decision.
Now I'm approaching that one-week mark again. Well, I have been in the office a bit, but mostly I've done yard work, read mystery novels (I've just discovered Elizabeth George, and I love her characters!), ridden my bike around town to do errands, and cooked. It feels good.
At the same time, there is this voice in the back of my head that is pressuring me to get back to work on a variety of projects that need doing. I may give in momentarily, but I'm trying to preserve what I can of the summer for much-needed decompression.
I also went to see a chiropractor yesterday, but that is another story for another day.
Now it's time for me to think about whether I should read a bit or plan tonight's dinner . . .
Now I'm approaching that one-week mark again. Well, I have been in the office a bit, but mostly I've done yard work, read mystery novels (I've just discovered Elizabeth George, and I love her characters!), ridden my bike around town to do errands, and cooked. It feels good.
At the same time, there is this voice in the back of my head that is pressuring me to get back to work on a variety of projects that need doing. I may give in momentarily, but I'm trying to preserve what I can of the summer for much-needed decompression.
I also went to see a chiropractor yesterday, but that is another story for another day.
Now it's time for me to think about whether I should read a bit or plan tonight's dinner . . .
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Topo, Anyone?
Saturday and Sunday of this Memorial Day weekend, we drove about an hour outside of Laramie and did a two-day hike in the Platte River Wilderness. We had planned to make it a three-day hike, but when it started raining on Sunday, that plan changed. I mean, we don't have to be out there when it's raining, and it's not actually fun to be out there when it's raining, so why should we?
The Platte River Wilderness is a lovely section, with trails that are not too strenuous. The trails there are lacking one thing however: signage. The first 5 miles or so (on Saturday) were lovely. Hiking through forests and down along the sides of a creek. We only lost the trail a couple of times, once when it crossed a creek and we didn't -- instead, we hiked uphill for about 30 minutes, following what looked like a trail but turned out to be someone else's diversion. Just around the corner from that crossing (once we found the trail again) we found a fantastic little campsite, where someone had taken the time to dig out fairly flat spots for a couple of tents. Fairly flat, I say, because we slid downhill most of the night, in our sil-nylon tent. Will probably have to do something about that (the sliding part, I mean -- we can't do much about the campsite being set on a hill).
The next day, we decided to follow the Platte Ridge Trail to its intersection with the Douglas Creek Trail. Mind you, we had no topographical map, as the guy at the Forest Service office in Laramie had pooh-poohed the notion of needing a topo map in the Platte River Wilderness. At one point, where the Platte Ridge Trail was supposed to branch to the east and the west (I think), there was only a stump of a signpost left; no direction at all except for a few odd symbols cut into the trees. What exactly did that orange arrow mean? I'll never know.
Needless to say, we never found where the Platte Ridge Trail and the Douglas Creek Trail intersect. Instead, we hiked through a good bit of marshy swampy trail and then decided we'd had enough. As it was, we hiked about 13 miles on Sunday, enough to merit a big cheeseburger in Woods Landing. With homemade fries that were heaven itself, and not on my diet.
Monday we spent cleaning up and putting away our gear. And tonight we have company for dinner and to spend the night, so I must push away from the keyboard and get around to putting sheets on the bed in the guest room.
The Platte River Wilderness is a lovely section, with trails that are not too strenuous. The trails there are lacking one thing however: signage. The first 5 miles or so (on Saturday) were lovely. Hiking through forests and down along the sides of a creek. We only lost the trail a couple of times, once when it crossed a creek and we didn't -- instead, we hiked uphill for about 30 minutes, following what looked like a trail but turned out to be someone else's diversion. Just around the corner from that crossing (once we found the trail again) we found a fantastic little campsite, where someone had taken the time to dig out fairly flat spots for a couple of tents. Fairly flat, I say, because we slid downhill most of the night, in our sil-nylon tent. Will probably have to do something about that (the sliding part, I mean -- we can't do much about the campsite being set on a hill).
The next day, we decided to follow the Platte Ridge Trail to its intersection with the Douglas Creek Trail. Mind you, we had no topographical map, as the guy at the Forest Service office in Laramie had pooh-poohed the notion of needing a topo map in the Platte River Wilderness. At one point, where the Platte Ridge Trail was supposed to branch to the east and the west (I think), there was only a stump of a signpost left; no direction at all except for a few odd symbols cut into the trees. What exactly did that orange arrow mean? I'll never know.
Needless to say, we never found where the Platte Ridge Trail and the Douglas Creek Trail intersect. Instead, we hiked through a good bit of marshy swampy trail and then decided we'd had enough. As it was, we hiked about 13 miles on Sunday, enough to merit a big cheeseburger in Woods Landing. With homemade fries that were heaven itself, and not on my diet.
Monday we spent cleaning up and putting away our gear. And tonight we have company for dinner and to spend the night, so I must push away from the keyboard and get around to putting sheets on the bed in the guest room.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
47
I just finished reading an advance copy of Walter Moseley's 47. Not impressed. I wanted to be, but sadly, I am not. The book is a mixture of slave narrative and science fiction; the slave narrative is beautiful and thoughtful, while the science fiction I can only call sad and strange. And I usually love science fiction!
Here are the elements of the science fiction that didn't sit well with me:
1. It wasn't consistent. When 47 (the main character) receives Tall John's (the alien) cha, he becomes more knowledgeable about the world, about philosophy, about life, about technology, etc., but nothing else about him, except for his physicality, changes.
2. The author described some elements of the story too simplisticly -- perhaps in an effort to appeal to a young adult audience. For example, Wall (evil creature out to destroy the universe) is after a "green powder" that can be found "buried in the earth." He has to use Tall John's spaceship to get the green powder . . .but how did Wall get there in the first place? Why call it "green powder" when other elements are given special names?
That's enough, I guess. On to the next one.
I'm sad that I didn't like it.
Here are the elements of the science fiction that didn't sit well with me:
1. It wasn't consistent. When 47 (the main character) receives Tall John's (the alien) cha, he becomes more knowledgeable about the world, about philosophy, about life, about technology, etc., but nothing else about him, except for his physicality, changes.
2. The author described some elements of the story too simplisticly -- perhaps in an effort to appeal to a young adult audience. For example, Wall (evil creature out to destroy the universe) is after a "green powder" that can be found "buried in the earth." He has to use Tall John's spaceship to get the green powder . . .but how did Wall get there in the first place? Why call it "green powder" when other elements are given special names?
That's enough, I guess. On to the next one.
I'm sad that I didn't like it.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Writing poetry, again.
In honor of the writing project retreat I attended this weekend, I am going to post here a revised copy of "Wings," and a couple of others that I did some serious changing to.
By the way, can I just say that any teacher alive would benefit from participating in writing project work? I've never actually done the workshop, but I helped to plan an invitational this weekend, and just being around those folks helped me to feel invigorated about my poetry again.
Thanks, all of you.
Plus, I found out some great information about the turtle as a symbol for planet Earth, the personification of goddess energy, representative of the continuing cycle of give and take, and possessing shields that protect us from harm. Cool.
Wings
One grand and coming day
I will sprout wings.
The swirling, lifting breeze will
chime out the hours
as the time grows near.
Small bumps will jump from my shoulder blades,
Itchy feathers one by one sweep my arms
Bits of down float sunlit through the air.
As I gain altitude,
an eagle's-eye perspective:
Roads float above green hills,
Horizon angles into the suspended blue sky.
Will my aerial view
Affect my earthly sight?
That Hat
That hat struts in,
feather waving
trench coat swirling.
It pauses
and surveys
with a tilted head and
a cynical, jaunty eye
the crowd of coffee-sippers,
blissfully unaware of its presence.
The crowd bobs
and sips
and sits
unimpressed
unreactive.
Nevertheless,
that hat maintains its integrity,
its pride,
its sense of place,
and wavers on
to an appointed seat
in glory.
First Snow
The first snow of the season
is a blessing, a baptism, an epiphany.
One that appears,
rebelliously,
on Halloween.
Slipping softly over the jack o'lanterns
hissing out candles
Lightly anointing the foreheads
of the assembled pirates, ballerinas,
monsters, and ladybugs,
it drips and floats.
Here, they huddle around the front porch light,
offering up the emptiness of their bags,
praying for Snickers or Skittles
or peanut butter cups.
As they walk away, toward the
luminarias and fake spiders next door,
the snow fills their footprints,
erasing all evidence of their presence.
By the way, can I just say that any teacher alive would benefit from participating in writing project work? I've never actually done the workshop, but I helped to plan an invitational this weekend, and just being around those folks helped me to feel invigorated about my poetry again.
Thanks, all of you.
Plus, I found out some great information about the turtle as a symbol for planet Earth, the personification of goddess energy, representative of the continuing cycle of give and take, and possessing shields that protect us from harm. Cool.
Wings
One grand and coming day
I will sprout wings.
The swirling, lifting breeze will
chime out the hours
as the time grows near.
Small bumps will jump from my shoulder blades,
Itchy feathers one by one sweep my arms
Bits of down float sunlit through the air.
As I gain altitude,
an eagle's-eye perspective:
Roads float above green hills,
Horizon angles into the suspended blue sky.
Will my aerial view
Affect my earthly sight?
That Hat
That hat struts in,
feather waving
trench coat swirling.
It pauses
and surveys
with a tilted head and
a cynical, jaunty eye
the crowd of coffee-sippers,
blissfully unaware of its presence.
The crowd bobs
and sips
and sits
unimpressed
unreactive.
Nevertheless,
that hat maintains its integrity,
its pride,
its sense of place,
and wavers on
to an appointed seat
in glory.
First Snow
The first snow of the season
is a blessing, a baptism, an epiphany.
One that appears,
rebelliously,
on Halloween.
Slipping softly over the jack o'lanterns
hissing out candles
Lightly anointing the foreheads
of the assembled pirates, ballerinas,
monsters, and ladybugs,
it drips and floats.
Here, they huddle around the front porch light,
offering up the emptiness of their bags,
praying for Snickers or Skittles
or peanut butter cups.
As they walk away, toward the
luminarias and fake spiders next door,
the snow fills their footprints,
erasing all evidence of their presence.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Ass-Kicking
Yesterday was a beautiful day in Laramie. Sunny, breezy, and cool -- the way I WISH summers had been growing up in Texas. So, I decided to let my cats hang out in the back yard, eat grass, roll around in the sun, etc. I propped the back door open with a stone and went to sit in my easy chair and read (can only do THAT in the summer!).
I wasn't really surprised to hear a commotion break out -- there are a couple of neighborhood cats that treat our yard as theirs -- but I WAS surprised when I went out back and saw Loner (see picture below) kicking the crap out of the big orange and white tom who loves to hang out in the yard.
This is quite unusual. It is most commonly Loner who gets his ass kicked, and then hides in the house for a few days as he heals. I love him, but he is usually a wuss.
Apparently he decided he'd had enough of that orange cat -- chased him all the way across the street.
Now, of course, he's hanging out in the house letting his wounds heal -- but he's certainly proud of himself!
I wasn't really surprised to hear a commotion break out -- there are a couple of neighborhood cats that treat our yard as theirs -- but I WAS surprised when I went out back and saw Loner (see picture below) kicking the crap out of the big orange and white tom who loves to hang out in the yard.
This is quite unusual. It is most commonly Loner who gets his ass kicked, and then hides in the house for a few days as he heals. I love him, but he is usually a wuss.
Apparently he decided he'd had enough of that orange cat -- chased him all the way across the street.
Now, of course, he's hanging out in the house letting his wounds heal -- but he's certainly proud of himself!
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Trail Days
We spent last week backpacking about 50 miles in Tennessee/Virginia, reconnecting with our thru-hiking community, hanging out at Trail Days in Damascus, Virginia, and then doing trail maintenance at Hard Core with our favorite hostel guy, Bob Peeples. It was a week full of memorable times, big hugs, and renewed awareness.
We got a room at a B&B in Damascus -- thanks, Bob and Dianne. That was a first for us, as usually we're camping out at the campground ("ghetto") outside of town, which invariably becomes a mud-filled poison-ivy ridden swamp, or we stay at a hotel in Abingdon. Having a room in town meant that we could walk back and forth among the vendors (I bought a new pack!), out to the campground, drink a lot of beer, and then walk home for a good night's sleep in a bed!
There were only a few folks from 2001 there -- Sheriff, Lucky, Phoenix, Rain Queen, Jim Beam, Ropeyarn, Tent-n Kent and Toccoa. But tons of hikers from 2003 were there (Footslogger's year), so we hung with Jersey, Rumbler, Hiker Biker Babe, T-Bird, and lots more.
As for awareness, hiking 50 miles helped me remember how hard and how wonderful hiking on the AT is. We only did about 10 miles a day, and that first day was a killer, but HOW GREAT it was to be back. To introduce ourselves (to a few people) and have them say "Oh, Bad Ass Turtle, I've heard of you!"
When can I do that again?
We got a room at a B&B in Damascus -- thanks, Bob and Dianne. That was a first for us, as usually we're camping out at the campground ("ghetto") outside of town, which invariably becomes a mud-filled poison-ivy ridden swamp, or we stay at a hotel in Abingdon. Having a room in town meant that we could walk back and forth among the vendors (I bought a new pack!), out to the campground, drink a lot of beer, and then walk home for a good night's sleep in a bed!
There were only a few folks from 2001 there -- Sheriff, Lucky, Phoenix, Rain Queen, Jim Beam, Ropeyarn, Tent-n Kent and Toccoa. But tons of hikers from 2003 were there (Footslogger's year), so we hung with Jersey, Rumbler, Hiker Biker Babe, T-Bird, and lots more.
As for awareness, hiking 50 miles helped me remember how hard and how wonderful hiking on the AT is. We only did about 10 miles a day, and that first day was a killer, but HOW GREAT it was to be back. To introduce ourselves (to a few people) and have them say "Oh, Bad Ass Turtle, I've heard of you!"
When can I do that again?
Monday, May 02, 2005
Mostly, I'm general
Here's a quiz I took this morning:
Your Linguistic Profile: |
60% General American English |
30% Dixie |
5% Upper Midwestern |
5% Yankee |
0% Midwestern |
I think I knew how it would turn out as soon as the question, "What do you call a carbonated beverage?" came across. It's COKE, of course!
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Not a Wok
I've never cooked anything in a wok before, though I've certainly cooked Chinese food, or perhaps what passes for Chinese food in my part of the world, growing up. Today we purchased an actual wok and I spent a good deal of time seasoning it. Heating it, rubbing oil on its surface, etc. Could make a connection to sex here, but I'm going to bypass the opportunity . . .
So Mark says the stirfry was good, but I was not satisfied. I'll have to look into Chinese cooking if I want to get better at it.
I'll just add that to the list of things I would like to get better at -- Chinese cooking can join with speaking German, playing the piano, riding a horse, quilting, and writing this blog in terms of things I should probably spend more time doing in order to get better at, but probably won't.
Why won't I, you might ask? Because in addition to the work of teaching courses and supervising student teachers (I love that work, don't get me wrong!) I need to get to work on the 6 or so writing projects that I have going but haven't finished. So, the newest one, a survey of K-12 teachers on their use of comprehension strategies, can join the rest -- the multigenre writing manuscript, research on the writing project in Lander, the article on working with mentor teachers to develop materials for mentoring student teachers, the thirdspace article, multimodality article, the conference presentation on policy and politics in teacher education, etc. in the list of things I would like to get done but can't seem to get to.
If I don't find a way of coping with all of these things, they're going to turn out like tonight's dinner. OK to some; not satisfactory to me.
So Mark says the stirfry was good, but I was not satisfied. I'll have to look into Chinese cooking if I want to get better at it.
I'll just add that to the list of things I would like to get better at -- Chinese cooking can join with speaking German, playing the piano, riding a horse, quilting, and writing this blog in terms of things I should probably spend more time doing in order to get better at, but probably won't.
Why won't I, you might ask? Because in addition to the work of teaching courses and supervising student teachers (I love that work, don't get me wrong!) I need to get to work on the 6 or so writing projects that I have going but haven't finished. So, the newest one, a survey of K-12 teachers on their use of comprehension strategies, can join the rest -- the multigenre writing manuscript, research on the writing project in Lander, the article on working with mentor teachers to develop materials for mentoring student teachers, the thirdspace article, multimodality article, the conference presentation on policy and politics in teacher education, etc. in the list of things I would like to get done but can't seem to get to.
If I don't find a way of coping with all of these things, they're going to turn out like tonight's dinner. OK to some; not satisfactory to me.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Once again, in the bathroom . . .
Most of this morning was spent preparing the bathroom for another round of plastering and sanding, which involved spreading plastic and clearing EVERYTHING moveable out of there. Once that was done we spent about an hour sanding and putting new coats of plaster on -- then about 2 hours cleaning up the mess we had made and getting the bathroom into useable shape again.
Which is important, as we're having company for dinner.
All that plastering and sanding, though, should make me philosophical about something. Not sure what. My life, I guess, but I prefer not to think about it.
Instead, I'm planning what to cook for dinner and enjoying that. As well as the thought of next week being finals week, and the week after -- let's just say, I won't be in the office!
Which is important, as we're having company for dinner.
All that plastering and sanding, though, should make me philosophical about something. Not sure what. My life, I guess, but I prefer not to think about it.
Instead, I'm planning what to cook for dinner and enjoying that. As well as the thought of next week being finals week, and the week after -- let's just say, I won't be in the office!
Friday, April 29, 2005
Why a Bad Ass?
It occurs to me that some readers may not understand the title of this Blog: "Adventures of a Bad Ass." To avoid the impression that I actually believe I am a bad ass, I will tell the story of my trail name.
In 2001, I thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail and collected data for my dissertation at the same time (and yes, I've only got one damn article published from it!). I had taken the trail name "Turtle" as a symbol of my desire to be persistent, to be connected to the earth, etc. Then, after about two months of hiking (400 some odd miles), I injured my piriformis -- a big muscle in my rear -- and had to leave the trail for a month and a half of physical therapy. Yes, on my rump. What made it so bad was that the piriformis muscle, because it was injured, banged away on my sciatic nerve, making it impossible for me to sit, stand, lie down, or simply BE without pain.
Just before my completely self-sacrificing, wonderful, and ever-lovin' spouse showed up in Damascus, Virginia, to collect my sad self and take me to a hospital where I could get good drugs and some rest, a couple of hiking friends (Chris and Triple Slim) stopped by the drug store, bought a little stuffed donkey, and brought it to me in a paper bag. They said, "Your trail name used to be Turtle. Now it's (drum roll, please) Bad Ass Turtle."
That donkey is now sitting on my desk, as a reminder for me to be who I truly am. Not just a bad ass, but Bad Ass Turtle.
In 2001, I thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail and collected data for my dissertation at the same time (and yes, I've only got one damn article published from it!). I had taken the trail name "Turtle" as a symbol of my desire to be persistent, to be connected to the earth, etc. Then, after about two months of hiking (400 some odd miles), I injured my piriformis -- a big muscle in my rear -- and had to leave the trail for a month and a half of physical therapy. Yes, on my rump. What made it so bad was that the piriformis muscle, because it was injured, banged away on my sciatic nerve, making it impossible for me to sit, stand, lie down, or simply BE without pain.
Just before my completely self-sacrificing, wonderful, and ever-lovin' spouse showed up in Damascus, Virginia, to collect my sad self and take me to a hospital where I could get good drugs and some rest, a couple of hiking friends (Chris and Triple Slim) stopped by the drug store, bought a little stuffed donkey, and brought it to me in a paper bag. They said, "Your trail name used to be Turtle. Now it's (drum roll, please) Bad Ass Turtle."
That donkey is now sitting on my desk, as a reminder for me to be who I truly am. Not just a bad ass, but Bad Ass Turtle.
Wings
One day
I will sprout wings.
Small bumps will jump from my shoulder blade,
Itchy feathers one by one sweep my arms,
Bits of down float through the air.
Will my view
-- from above --
Affect my sight?
I will sprout wings.
Small bumps will jump from my shoulder blade,
Itchy feathers one by one sweep my arms,
Bits of down float through the air.
Will my view
-- from above --
Affect my sight?
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
I'm feeling a bit down this morning, due to our inability to find any affordable housing to buy. I have to remind myself that it has been a long time since I owned a house, and there is nothing that says I HAVE to buy one this summer. Renting is ok, too. I should know -- I've been doing it for the LAST SEVEN YEARS! It's just that I had my heart set on finding a house or a townhouse or a condo or SOMETHING to buy, and instead I'm finding lots of land speculators who buy up houses for cash. The market here is INSANE! Who would think that you would have to bid OVER the asking price of a cheap little house in a funky college town like this one? If you ask me, the city council needs to get up off its' collective ass and DO SOMETHING about the situation here, so that people who make a decent living can afford to buy a simple house.
Whew. Rant over.
Whew. Rant over.
Sunday, October 05, 2003
While cleaning out the cat box this morning, I started thinking about Lil' Orphan Annie and Daddy Warbucks. I mean, why is he called "Warbucks"? I'm sure someone out there knows. I'm guessing it is to show that he made his money in wartime. Perhaps he was a gun runner, a mercenary? Or just had a factory that made cannons? But if so, why is he pictured as such a sweet guy in the end? Shouldn't he be this horrible evil man who lurks around in corners, twirling his moustache and casting lecherous glances at innocent young women? Instead, he adopts Annie, who turns him into a big ol' softy.
Then I started wondering what would happen when she got to be Teen Orphan Annie . . . she turns a bit rebellious, she starts picketing his ouzi factory, she runs away from home (after a big shouting scene in which she calls him a despot and throws a priceless vase into the garden) to . . . San Francisco. There she takes up with a young man who lives in the park and makes money by playing a guitar and a harmonica. That'll serve him, she thinks! Now I'm poor again!
This move from liberal to conservative to liberal again makes me wonder -- as a teenager I was extremely conservative, with lots of Republican views on money, society, gender, race, etc. Now the older I get, the more liberal I become. Isn't that a bit backward?
Then I started wondering what would happen when she got to be Teen Orphan Annie . . . she turns a bit rebellious, she starts picketing his ouzi factory, she runs away from home (after a big shouting scene in which she calls him a despot and throws a priceless vase into the garden) to . . . San Francisco. There she takes up with a young man who lives in the park and makes money by playing a guitar and a harmonica. That'll serve him, she thinks! Now I'm poor again!
This move from liberal to conservative to liberal again makes me wonder -- as a teenager I was extremely conservative, with lots of Republican views on money, society, gender, race, etc. Now the older I get, the more liberal I become. Isn't that a bit backward?
Saturday, October 04, 2003
This morning I woke up early (due to a phone call from my hiking husband 8-) and then decided to watch the rest of the movie I started last night in bed, drinking coffee. Felt all cozy and comfy with my cup of hazelnut coffee and the quilts pulled up around me, watching an action flick. With Antonio Banderas, no less. Then some friends and I went for a walk out in the mountains. One of the things I love about living on the high plains is our proximity to beautiful mountain spaces. It was a treat to get out, walk around, watch the aspens turning color, and soak up some nature for a change. Only too soon it was time to head for home. Tonight I'm going to a volleyball game (UW vs. UNLV, I think) and then coming home for a good night's sleep before heading into the office tomorrow (yes, I know it's sunday tomorrow) to get some writing done there. I've begun to realize that my putting off writing this article from my dissertation is because I KNOW it will be badly received, at least by some. Makes me want to turn my hand to something that's a sure thing, but the only thing that might be would have something to do with NCLB, standards, assessments, etc. Nobody wants to hear now about cultural and social literacies, multiliteracies, approaching literature with a critical eye, etc. And I'm not interested in working on much else. Perhaps the writing project work I am going to be doing soon will be a nice middle-of-the-road type of research project. At least I should be able to get something published on it!
Sunday, September 28, 2003
Well, it's Sunday, and I managed to spend the whole day crocheting a doily and watching television. However, when I begin to get down on myself for this, I simply remind myself how hard I work during the week. There's a lot of stress there, right? So I deserve some down time, right? And it's not as if anyone is going hungry in my house or the bills aren't getting paid. So back off, conscience!
In the meantime, I managed to also get up to date on Footslogger's web page (see www.trailjournals.com/footslogger) and to update his pictures there. Only three weeks until he gets home -- and about damn time, too.
In the meantime, I managed to also get up to date on Footslogger's web page (see www.trailjournals.com/footslogger) and to update his pictures there. Only three weeks until he gets home -- and about damn time, too.
Saturday, March 08, 2003
This morning I purchased my new pack. Yahoo! I got an Arcteryx bora 60 LT, a lighter weight and smaller version of the pack I carried in 2001, the Arcteryx bora 80. After I got finished culling out the stuff I didn't need in 2001 (I started with about 53 pounds of weight and ended up carrying 35 to 40) I was hardly using the space in that big pack. I sent the top home, and I had to cinch the thing down like crazy. Anyway, I found a really good deal on the pack I wanted at a website called Mickie's Place. They didn't charge me any tax or any delivery cost, plus they had the pack on sale for much cheaper than anywhere else I could find it. I'll be using that pack when I head out to the trail in May to hike from Damascus to Waynesboro. I'm both excited and nervous about that trip, although the excitement far outweighs the nervousness. This is a very different type of experience than that I had in 2001, when I spent the last two months before my thru-hike began asking myself, "Can I really do this? What am I doing? Should I just quit? What if I break my leg?" and other silly questions.
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