ChristinaMused

Conversations at the Dinner Table*

9 notes

Apparently I “tsk” a lot when I talk. I’ll work on that. Meanwhile, here’s a stealth video peek at my classroom area.

Filed under education

18 notes

If, like me, you are a sucker for great Coach stories, make sure you go see When the Game Stands Tall. I’ve read zero reviews, and maybe there are more faults than I could see, but it was exactly what I needed this afternoon as I endlessly obsess and assess how in the world I am going to do what I need to do this year, which begins for me on Tuesday.

It wasn’t awful to watch Jim Caviezel, either.

Filed under All the ugly crying coach movies get me every time

207 notes

girlwithalessonplan:

thankyoufive:

*hyperventilates*

I HAVE TO GET ONE OF THESE.  SO HELP ME GOD.

Just a reminder that you can use coupon code 55870818 to save another $10 on this (expires today).  That brings the total of these 10,000 post-its to about $42, including tax. Even at the dollar section at Target, that would buy only about 40% as many stickies, and those might be cute but they don’t stick well and they curl up and leave residue on your books. Plus, this box is filled with velveteen-rabbit Real post-it brand notes.
(I do not work for the Office Depot corporation, but I know a deal when I see one.)

girlwithalessonplan:

thankyoufive:

*hyperventilates*

I HAVE TO GET ONE OF THESE.  SO HELP ME GOD.

Just a reminder that you can use coupon code 55870818 to save another $10 on this (expires today).  That brings the total of these 10,000 post-its to about $42, including tax. Even at the dollar section at Target, that would buy only about 40% as many stickies, and those might be cute but they don’t stick well and they curl up and leave residue on your books. Plus, this box is filled with velveteen-rabbit Real post-it brand notes.

(I do not work for the Office Depot corporation, but I know a deal when I see one.)

Filed under education get on the post it bandwagon

6 notes

Blackberry Picking

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.

But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not. 

—Seamus Heaney, who died on this date in 2013

Filed under poetry late August

12 notes

Columbia Glacier, Prince William Sound, Alaska

This is the view my parents shared yesterday. I’m worried they won’t want to come back to Michigan and I’ll never see them again.

5 notes

Be Kind

Not merely because Henry James said

there were but four rules of life—
be kind be kind be kind be kind— but
because it’s good for the soul, and,
what’s more, for others; it may be
that kindness is our best audition
for a worthier world, and, despite
the vagueness and uncertainty of
its recompense, a bird may yet wander
into a bush before our very houses,
gratitude may not manifest itself in deeds
entirely equal to our own, still there’s
weather arriving from every direction,
the feasts of famine and feasts of plenty
may yet prove to be one, so why not
allow the little sacrificial squinches and
squigulas to prevail? Why not inundate
the particular world with minute particulars?
Dust’s certainly all our fate, so why not
make it the happiest possible dust,
a detritus of blessedness? Surely
the hedgehog, furling and unfurling
into its spiked little ball, knows something
that, with gentle touch and unthreatening
tone, can inure to our benefit, surely the wicked
witches of our childhood have died and,
from where they are buried, a great kindness
has eclipsed their misdeeds. Yes, of course,
in the end so much comes down to privilege
and its various penumbras, but too much
of our unruly animus has already been
wasted on reprisals, too much of the
unblessed air is filled with smoke from
undignified fires. Oh friends, take
whatever kindness you can find
and be profligate in its expenditure:
It will not drain your limited resources,
I assure you, it will not leave you vulnerable
and unfurled, with only your sweet little claws
to defend yourselves, and your wet little noses,
and your eyes to the ground, and your little feet.

"Be Kind" by Michael Blumenthal, from No Hurry. © Etruscan Press, 2012. Reprinted with permission

Filed under poetry be kind

8 notes

Backfired

Ways that things backfired today:

  • In order to show you the open concept nightmare that is my classroom, I needed more privacy than was available for video recording. Between the constant foot traffic inside and the tent city just outside my room (a bike tour from our capital to our Upper Peninsula was coming through), I never had a chance.  I’ll do it when I go in sometime this weekend to finalize things before school starts Tuesday.
  • The middle school principal found me this morning at our Welcome Back catered breakfast, and said, “Do NOT forget that you are just on loan to the high school. You didn’t get traded.” It was supposed to make me feel loved and wanted, but it made me feel like I would never get to settle in somewhere and be home.
  • The middle school staff invited me to have lunch with them today, and so I went with them instead of with my new high school faculty group. The HS teased me and called me a traitor and said they would gossip about me the whole time I was gone. The MS group included a couple someones I didn’t care to see at all. Wrong choice.
  • At the open house, I volunteered to man the Freshman Station, handing out class schedules, building maps, etc. I had already had these kids as 8th graders, and a familiar face is less scary. Maybe, but a familiar face that blanks on your last name is not very confidence-building. At least a dozen kids had to remind me of their last name. Oops.

Filed under education

16 notes

j-unscripted replied to your post: Orders

You can use open binder rings & shower curtain hooks to hang posters/visuals from the marker tray attached to the board.

Oh. My. Goodness! Brilliant!  I never would have thought of this, and since I don’t have any bulletin boards whatsoever, I’ve been trying to think of other solutions. 

Thanks!

Filed under j-unscripted