Imagine That

I can't say a word about someone else's child before my own child turns up driving me nuts. In another passive-aggressive move today, my son "forgot" about his therapy this afternoon and took the bus home. I showed up at car-riders to pick him up, and he's nowhere to be found. I trudge thru the pouring rain to the office, where they do an all-call and suggest that if he wasn't out front waiting to be picked up, he was probably in the gym. The school was having a dance today, the music was blasting, and the gym was packed. I wove my way through dancing adolescents to the DJ, who calls for my son over the loudspeaker. He's not there. Since my son lost his cellphone, I can only assume he's taken the bus, which means he won't be home until 4:45 and I have to cancel his therapy. This means, of course, I must pay a $50 fee for canceling with less than 24 hours notice. I drove home, furious, and waited for his bus to arrive. I am partly relieved when he gets off the bus, but pissed off that he "forgot" he had therapy. You know, the therapy that he hates and resists and says isn't necessary. Am I really supposed to believe him when he says he forgot? We went on to have a nasty row about his grades, his refusal to do his chores, etc. It became really ugly, with him sulking in his room while I cried in the living room. Thank God Mike rode in on a white horse and took me out to eat and plied me with alcohol. All day long, I bang my head against the wall to teach kids who refuse to live up to their potential, only to come home and realize...

HEY, THAT'S MY KID!!!

Underwear Follies

Sometimes I imagine that when you read stories about my students, you may think I am making this stuff up. I assure you: you can't make this stuff up.

I have a new student in my class; today was his third day. He's a bit rough around the edges, to put it mildly. I have already had to warn him about profanity and showing up for class on time. Today, when I saw the whole backside of his boxers, I gently reminded him that the county dress code mandates that students must wear their pants at the appropriate height and cannot show their underwear. This 16-year-old young man laughed and said that it could be worse. He proceeded to unbuckle his pants, drop his pants to his ankles, and shuffle over to his seat in his boxers, very pleased at his own cleverness.

The most shocking part? He gets a warning, but no disciplinary action, because he's new. We have to give him a chance, you understand. He's probably just trying to get attention and make friends. We don't want to be too harsh on him, until he's had a chance to settle in.

Anyone else disturbed by this, or is it just me?

As long as it's not a toe-tag...

I've been tagged by Nina to list the seven most famous or infamous people I have ever met or to list seven strange things about me. I've met about 4 celebs in my life, so I guess that means I have to list weird things about myself. That's always a thrill.

I hereby tag Karen, Charlene, Liz, Robin, Claudia, Willowtree, and the Gunfighter. If you want to play along, please tag some other people and leave them a comment so they will know they've been tagged. If not, that's fine too.

OK, now for the weird stuff.

1) I am fascinated with extremely sharp, expensive, kitchen knives. Other women buy shoes; I buy myself knives and other kitchen gadgets.

2) I must sit cross legged when I am on the computer. Otherwise I am completely uncomfortable. To that end, I use a large armchair as my computer chair. I drag it up to the desk and sit with my legs crossed "Indian-style."

3) When I was 21, I went through three decent-paying jobs in a month: claims-processor for a large well-known insurance company, receptionist at an audiologist's office, and full-time waitress at a Jewish deli. Notice how the jobs got progressively less spectacular; let's just say it was a bad month.

4) I compose recipes from books that I read. For instance, if the character is cooking and the author gets descriptive about the ingredients, I enjoy creating a dish that seems to match what the character was making. The best example I've ever found was when Alexandra made spaghetti sauce in The Witches of Eastwick. Updike's character gave specific directives like "select ripe tomatoes the size of your lover's testicles." The sauce I made from that chapter was excellent.

5) Although I am a domestic in many ways, I cannot sew. Can't knit, crochet, or needlepoint. The most I have ever done is cross-stitch, but honestly, that's ridiculously easy. I bought a sewing machine once and tried to learn to sew from a pattern. Eventually, I gave the sewing machine to my sister.

6) I go through a lot of Q-tips. I have a little OCD about having clean ears, and I use Q-tips almost every time I go in my bathroom.

7) This one is for you, Karen. I am very apathetic about taking pictures. I don't really enjoy having my photo taken, nor do I take a lot of pictures myself. I do know how; I just don't do it. Sometimes, when I do take pictures, I never have the rolls developed. Most of the pictures I do develop live in a box; precious few make it into albums or frames. I did a very basic "watch me grow" plan with my firstborn, and didn't do it with my second child. (OK, that last statement was more of a confessional than an actual weird thing.)

Linkage

A few fun things:
Warm up with Baked Potato Soup, and watch out for the chickens in the road. Check out the adorable babies having too much fun at Cupcake's house. Say hello to Nina’s little friend. Want your own personal bouncer? Charlene has one! Yo tengo dos quesadillas, por favor. Laugh at stupid pet tricks.

Hope everyone had a great day. I'm hoping for another sunny one like today; it was in the low 60s and GORGEOUS. I enjoyed my walk after school twice as much, with warm sunshine on my face instead of cold wind chapping my cheeks. The ones on my face, that is.

A sign of spring?

While driving home from work on Friday, I spotted a whole host of daffodils growing and blooming around the ruins of an old abandoned house on Moss Ferry Road. Considering how cold it's been, it's strange to see them so early. I dug up a few to plant in my flower bed, and composed this little poem.

To Early Daffodils

Lovely, eager daffodil
Stubbornly growing on a hill
Winter winds are bitter cold
But hearty roots have taken hold
Gently lifted from a muddy bed
Transplanted to a garden shed
Rest in a haven from the chill
Lovely, eager daffodil

Follow-up

A while back, I recommended the book Bitterroot Landing. The book affected me so much that I wrote to the author, Sheri Reynolds, and today, I received a very nice reply. She thanked me for my comments, wished me luck with my healing, and told me about her new book that will come out sometime in the fall. She says the new book, Red Drum Running on Falling Tide, is also about sexual abuse, though told from a very different angle. I wonder if that means it's told from the perspective of the abuser? Yipes!

What are you babbling on about?

I hesitate to say this because it might tempt the computer gods to smite me, but I ink-thay I illed-kay the irus-vay. Everything seems to be functioning normally now, and the scans aren't finding any more malicious codes. Somehow, I had acquired a browser hijacker and a lot of other malware, so it was touch and go for a while there. I thought I was protected! (Wow, I sounded like one of my pregnant students just then.)

Have any of you taken the RealAge test? It's free and it will tell you if you are younger or older -- healthwise -- than your actual age. It was interesting to see my results, and to see what suggestions the site gave me for improving my health. For instance, I currently eat fish about once a week, but the site says I should eat it 3 times a week. That's a lot of fish! To my surprise, my test said I'm about 4 years younger than I am. I think I might go back to lying about my age. Haha! My husband took the test and it says that he's about 9 years older than his actual age. Oops. He's a smoker, and he has a lot of other aging factors as well.

Weird, though. There is so much information available EVERYWHERE about nutrition, weight management, longevity, etc.; wouldn't you agree that most of us know how to be healthy, but we just don't take the advice? I'm a talented cook, if I do say so myself. However, I'm more likely to make a box of Hamburger Helper on a weeknight than to whip up something healthy that I could probably make just as quickly. I've known for years that diabetes and heart disease run in my family, but I've waited until now to do anything about it. My husband smokes 2 packs per day, despite the history of lung cancer in his family. Know what I mean? I wonder why so many of us are wired this way.

Have you seen the movie Music and Lyrics, starring Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant? I've seen it twice, once when it was out in theaters, and recently on cable. This time when I watched, I noticed some continuity errors in the coffee shop scene that were hilarious to me. If you happen to catch the movie, pay attention to the drinks on the table. The two characters are seated across from each other talking, so first the camera is on one face, then the other, interview style. Drew's glass keeps changing positions and locations, as does Hugh's coffee cup. Left side of the plate, now right. Coffee cup in the hand, now both hands off the table. Drink to the lips but then it's on the table. Glass disappears completely, etc. Dunno why that amuses me so but it does.

Can you tell I haven't had a lot to do this weekend? I graded my papers for the week after school yesterday, and I have been enjoying a day without work. Hope you're all having some R&R, too.

A little humor

Ironic that I should receive the following e-mail, considering all of my current computer issues:

After going through a virus attack, losing a hard drive, fighting off hackers and hijackers, upgrading all my software, installing fire-walls, being cut-off by my email provider, and a host of other problems, I have fixed my computer.


Now it works exactly the way I want:

Grumpy Post

Irritating Things

· My computer is still screwed up by viruses. I now have two security systems running, but the scanning process continues to find malicious programs and spyware.

· One of my former students wants me to feel sorry for him because he might be charged with statutory rape. (He is a sophomore and had sex with a middle-schooler; I feel disgusted, not sorry for him.)

These next three are related.

· I’ve been walking after school with a friend, and we completed two miles today. This is good; however, now I have a huge painful blister on arch of my foot.

· It was cold and windy today while we were walking, and my face is chapped.

· My back hurts.

· My daughter is feeling a little better, and now it’s my son’s turn to be sick.

· I’m annoyed with my mother and her attitude toward my grandmother, who is now in a nursing home. That’s a really long story that I might share another day.

· A student told a rather inappropriate joke in class, after I repeatedly instructed him to stop. This wouldn’t be so bad except students have a tendency to go home and tell their parents things like, “You should have heard the joke I heard in Ms. B’s class today!” (I know you are wondering: Why did Hilary Clinton shave her vagina? So she could say, “Read my lips; no more Bush!)

· Speaking of school, my son is still screwing up at school, although not as badly as last week.

On that grumpy note, tomorrow is another day. I'm going to bed.

Hosed

I thought I had this computer virus beaten, but my computer is evidently all but hosed. At the moment, it's barely functional, and I'm trying to salvage what I can before have to reformat. Stopzilla has helped a lot, but I'm afraid some of the damage was already done before I reinstalled this very valuable program. Ugh.

Chelsea is feeling a little better; she's stopped throwing up and has an appetite, so I guess she's almost back to normal. What an odd week this has been! I'd really like things to get back to normal soon.

On a much more positive note, I can't wait for my seed catalogues to come in so I can get started on this year's garden. My herb garden last year was wonderful; I'm adding mint, sage, chives, lemongrass, and lavender. To the vegetable garden, we're adding okra (couldn't get it to grow last year for some reason!) and a different variety of corn. I can't wait for spring; gardens are so hopeful, you know?

Hope everyone out there is having a better week than I am.

Virulent House

Not only was the computer infected, evidently my daughter is too. She's been vomiting all day; she also has a sore throat, headache, stomachache, and is coughing. The doctor checked her for strep, which was negative, but the doctor said there's a virus going around with the symptoms. Yucko! Karen, sound familiar??

Perhaps I will have time to do a real post later. Stopzilla fixed my computer virus, but it's not going to help the kiddo. :(

Elf?

We interupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special bulletin:
I have a freaking computer virus. In the realm of virulent crap available on the internet, "the elfwgps" is a relatively low threat. However, it still annoys me and pisses me off. As I work on removing this bug, hope you're all doing well.

Found Dog Needs Home

In the metro Atlanta area, my friends Brian and Jessica found a dog that they are calling an "English pointer." Jessica writes:

Brian found an English Pointer on Friday night. He brought it into our garage to keep it from freezing. She is a really nice dog, very skinny but happy and friendly. She has been eating well. I really need to find her a home.

None of the no-kill shelters can take her and the County Animal Control was very rude and did not seem to care nor did they seem very positive about trying to get her adopted. If you are interested or know anyone interested please pass this photo on so they can contact me.

If you're in the Atlanta area and would like this dog, let me know and I will pass the word along to Jessica. And, no, I can't take in another dog. Previous posts with the "pets" label will prove that!

Crazy Mom, Part Deux

Those of you who have been following along might want to know the outcome of the Stephen King Incident. Due to the profanity in Different Seasons the kid's mom did not want him reading it.

"After all," she complained, "my son was written up for using profanity, so his teacher should not be giving him obscene books to read."

It wasn't enough for my colleague to offer an alternate assignment for her son. Nope, she didn't want ANY student reading the book; she wasn't limiting the censorship to her own child. The administration completely caved in, because she said she would go over their heads if they didn't take action. Mr. D had to remove all copies of the book from his classroom and cease teaching the material immediately.

That still wasn't enough for her; the school also removed the book from the school library and the faculty has been instructed that it would be best for all parties involved not to discuss the incident.

All together now, say it loud: "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Can you imagine how powerful this one woman must feel now? She not only censored her son's reading choices, which is certainly a parent's perogative, if one wants to be narrow-minded and ignorant, but she has censored ALL of the students at our school, and the teachers too? (Not really; we talk about this constantly.) With this victory under her belt, I shudder to think what's next. Oh, and luckily for us, she has three more children coming up through this school system; we have years of stupidity ahead.

Censorship makes me very angry, but what really chaps my hide is that her son was enjoying reading for the first time in a long time.

"I love this book! I can't put it down! I've been reading it all day," he told me.

Do you know how rarely teachers get to hear that? Grrr.

Unbelievable.

Mama? She's crazy!

Now that she takes Prozac has mellowed with age, my mom is a much kinder, gentler person than the one I grew up with. My kids think Grandma is slightly nutty, but sweet. She is the granola of grandmas, if you will. Since my dad passed away, she's been through a lot, so I try to be very tolerant when she gets crazy. Sometimes, I just have to laugh, though, at the things that set her off.

In December, it was time for Mom to renew her driver's license. She went to the DMV, stood in line, you know the drill. Surprise: she failed her eye exam.

"This must be a mistake," she protested. "Something is wrong with your stupid machine! I can't see a thing!"

The DMV clerk assured her there was nothing wrong with the machine. Mom demanded a retest, but the clerk explained that all of the machines run off the same computer input. Mom was denied her license until she could get vision correction, and she was highly pissed that no one would let her take a retest. She sulked for a while, but finally made an appointment with an eye doctor, who, lo and behold, has confirmed that yes, she needs glasses. Her vision is about 20/70, and with her glasses, she can now try for her driver's license again. You would think that, for someone who will turn 65 this year, and has never needed glasses, this isn't so bad. Mom, however, is highly miffed about this turn of events. She insists that the doctor is somehow in cahoots with the DMV.

"Mom," I say, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes, it does," She exclaimed. "The doctor probably gives the DMV a kickback for all of their referrals!"

Hmm.

Actually, I think I do understand my mom's protest against wearing glasses. You would have to know how much this woman loves to read; as my dad used to say, she always has her nose buried in a book. I don't know anyone who reads as much as she does, and I'm sure there is a certain amount of fear that this pleasure might be taken away. However, we are talking a little blurred vision -- not blindess. My vision is WAY worse than 20/70, but contacts work wonders. Relax, Mom.

Tuscan Bean Soup

I served this tonight with some crusty Italian bread and a spinach salad. Try it; you’ll love it!

Tuscan Bean Soup

1 pound dried white navy beans
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 small bunch scallions, white and tender green parts, washed well and chopped
5 stalks celery, chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely minced
3 carrots, scrubbed and diced
5 cups good-quality chicken broth (or veggie broth for the vegetarians)
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh rosemary, chopped
Salt and freshly-ground black pepper, to taste
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/3 cup grated Parmesan or Asiago cheese (optional)

Prepare beans for cooking using the “quick soak” method on the package directions, then drain and rinse well.

Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot and add scallions. Cook, stirring frequently, until scallions begin to soften. Add celery, garlic, and carrots and cook, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes. Add stock, rinsed navy beans, herbs, salt, and pepper. Bring soup to a boil, then cover, reduce heat, and simmer over low heat for 2 hours.

Puree 3 cups of soup in a blender (to make the beans creamy) and pour back into the pot. Add lemon juice, and more self and pepper if needed.

Ladle soup into individual bowls. Top each portion with some of the remaining olive oil and sprinkle with cheese, if desired.

Quickie

It started snowing here around 3:30pm, and now we have a lot of icy roads. More than likely, school will be closed tomorrow. (Not that the kids and I are hoping for that or anything.) It was kinda pretty, though.

My car as I was leaving school today at about 4:30.
My son faced his music today at school with regard to the gum incident. He got a lecture and a day of ISS. He was warned about bullying -- evidently, the recipient of the gum is a kid who gets picked on a lot, which makes me a little madder at my kid. Don't be a follower, kid. I was relieved that he wasn't kicked off the bus, which would have been a scheduling nightmare for me.

I was actually pretty nervous for the first time in my classroom today, when one of my students decided to go gangster on me. I will write more about that tomorrow. It may be a long post. :X

(And yea, Nina, he's pretty cute. He still makes me nuts! Karen, I know you are right there with me, girl.)

Guess Who?

Guess who had three failing grades on his report card, and is already getting zeros again this semester. Guess who plays the drums every single day, but won't turn in a practice record to his band director. Guess who put gum in someone's hair on the bus today because someone dared him to. Guess who is probably going to get ISS and get kicked off the bus?

My kid. That's who. This "angelic" looking guy is the one. One of us needs drugs, is all I'm saying.


BTW, this is a picture he took of himself. I think this shows how he sees himself, and I don't like it.

Uninteresting Post

As I try to get into the habit of posting daily, I'm not sure I always have anything to say. This may be one of those uninteresting posts. With the new semester underway, and the change of faces, I've been amazed by the fact that moving a few kids around can make an entirely different class. My classes went thru about a 35% turnover, meaning some of my students went to other teachers and more students replaced them. I still have around 120 students, but the mix was shaken up. I think I really had a bad mix last semester, because so far, I like this group so much better.

Typically, the last period of the day is the worst class because students can hardly stand school another minute. They are tired and cranky, and they want to break free from the confines of school to rush off to their afternoon jobs or to their couches, where they will eat chips and watch something banal on MTV. (OK, some of them rush off to get high, but that's a different story). I actually find myself liking my 6th period. We're relaxed and friendly, but still getting our work done. I have a few bright stars in there, who make teaching fun for me. The less than bright stars aren't annoying to the point of irritation. There's no one I can't tolerate. (SO FAR. I will keep emphasizing that, because after all, it's scary when you get too comfortable.)

There you have it -- another mark in the pro column for teaching; if you can endure a grading period, a semester, or a year, the next block of time may be a lot better. Teaching is like a box of chocolates, I say in my best Forrest Gump imitation, because you never know what you're gonna get. As long as I don't get one of those ones with the gooey caramel or that yellow creamy stuff inside, it's all good.

After one week...

My knees have been bothering me a lot, so I sat around a lot this weekend alternating heat and ice. In addition to reading Under the Tuscan Sun,* I have graded all of my 120+ students' papers for the first week, and entered the grades into the online gradebook. My lesson plans are ready for the week, and I'm currently AHEAD. I celebrate because not every week is like this; sometimes I feel hopelessly behind. Now, if I could manage to keep this same pace, it would be a miracle wonderful!

Fun news. We're closing on our mortgage refi tomorrow. Fixed rate of 6.5%, at last. We will be breathing easier, for sure.

*I know this book has long been off the bestseller list. In this case, I had actually seen and loved the movie before reading the book. When I bought the book, and was disappointed to see how different it was from the movie, I never made myself read it. For some reason, I picked it up again Friday and am amazed at how much I enjoyed it. I guess time and distance from the movie helped. Also, her descriptions of all the gardening and yardwork make my green thumb tingle.

I just reread this post and I think I need to switch to decaf.

Some People

You know how some people can't give you a compliment without some kind of sting to it? My friend Curly (not his real name) is one of those people. For years, I've endured his backhanded compliments, and my skin has toughened up some as a result. Today, however, he smacked me with one that I wasn't expecting, and I gotta admit, it hurt my feelings and embarassed the hell out of me.

Curly was saying how great I look and that he can tell that I am losing weight. "Thank you, Curly," I said, beaming. He reached out and grabbed my turkey waddle neck and said, "Hell, even your double chin is getting smaller!"

:::thud:::

Poetry

The assignment was to create an original poem, copying the style of Dickinson. Here's one of the poems I received:

You've got a Scratch --
I've got a Blister.
From this day on --
I'll date your Sister.

Crazy Mom

The opinions of this blogger do not necessarily reflect anything, really; they are just opinions, folks.

You may remember me talking about my ADD student in a couple of posts. In this new semester, he is no longer my student; however, he frequently comes by to visit me and tell me how things are going with his new teacher. (This just goes to show you that some kids DO respect you for giving them boundaries, even if they don't always show it at the time.) I've been so pleased to see how happy he looks that I have wondered if he has put himself back on medication. He told me how excited he is about the book he is reading in his new class, Different Seasons by Stephen King.

The other teacher told me they are reading excerpts from the book as part of their study of Dark Romanticism and to compare/contrast with the works of Edgar Allen Poe. Not only is this a reasonable assignment, but the kid who hates reading is loving the book. "I can't put it down," he told me, excitedly. Everything's great, right? Nope.

ADD boy's crazy mom is now having a cow that her son is reading King in an American Literature class. She says it isn't right to allow students to read a book that has profanity in it, if her son got written up for using profanity at school. She claims that maybe books like these are where her son learned that language in the first place. Yeah, Mom, that's where he learned it. Your sixteen-year-old son couldn't possibly have ever heard this language anywhere else, even though he talks about all the R-rated movies that he's watched, not to mention the internet porn he claims to have downloaded. Now that he appears to be enjoying school, and is actually reading a book with enthusiasm, take that book away, Mom. Find find more ways to blame the system for your son's behavior issues. Stir up the drama because it's obvious that's what you contribute to his condition.

My colleague has to defend his actions because ONE parent has a burr under her saddle. Having already had numerous confrontations with this mom, I'm just glad the poor kid's not in my class anymore; as much as she hated me, she'd have me roasted on a funeral pyre for corrupting her kid with Stephen King.

An Eclectic Playlist

Bitterroot Landing

That's the name of a book I've just read. Bitterroot Landing is about a survivor of sexual and physical abuse, who learns to accept healing and to reconcile with her past. Unfortunately, this subject is all too personal for me, so I won't say it wasn't a painful read at times. However, it was a very powerful, well-written novel, filled with wisdom. One passage wrote itself on my heart in permanent marker: "All those times when you thought no one was hearing you, you weren't being ignored." Isn't that a reassurance that we all want, truly? I recommend it, if you are in a good place to read a book like this.

Is it really your ally?

Maybe some of you, like me, are trying to lose weight. Especially after the holidays, your waistband might be feeling the pinch. Maybe you've seen the commercials and print ads for a product called Alli. Well, I'm sorry. Even if this product helped me lose 50 pounds, the warning lable would scare me off:

"Such effects may include oily spotting, loose stools, and more frequent stools that may be hard to control."

It's just not worth it; not to me. I'd rather eat healthy and exercise than experience THOSE side effects.

The First Day

Man, I'm tired. There is nothing like a break from school to make you just lazy enough to be exhausted after one day. It takes time to get used to standing up all day again, not to mention the mental juggling act that I must perform all day long. My classes were really good today, but it was the first day, after all. They are always good the first day so they can lull you into complacency. :)

We're on the semester system, so about 35% of my students moved on to other teachers, and have been replaced by new faces. Several of my problem children are now someone else's problem; it might give me a break, but I almost feel sorry for them breaking in a new teacher. One or two of my problem children have informed me they are going to get switched back into my class; I thanked them for the warning. :::grin:::

We're currently studying Dickinson and Whitman, and then we move on to American Realism. I'm always struggling to find ways to get my students excited about the content, but mostly, I get to hear, "This is so gay." (Gay means boring and lame, in case you think it means anything else.) Maybe if I could rap Dickinson and set Whitman to something emo, I'd get their attention.

My mentor gave me an excellent piece of advice. She told me that I have to find my rose garden in every individual class; one class might have 10 students that are my rose garden, while another might have only 5 or 6 flowers in the garden. "Teach to that rose garden," she said. "Lavish them with all the sunshine, rain, and fertilizer that you have to offer. If some of the nutrients happen to fall on the weeds, then that's wonderful, but always remember your rose garden comes first." She assures me this method will preserve my sanity; it does make sense when you think about it.

Rambling

From my brain, in no particular order:

I'm sick and tired of Guitar Hero III. Since Michael's birthday in November, it's been played in this household for several hours a day. Other people love video games; I'm not one of them. Husband and both children are addicted. I don't think there's a cure.

The kids are back in school tomorrow, and I'm back in the classroom with them. This part of the year usually flies by, and I'm just hoping for a good sememster. My letter of intent have to be turned in by January 9, if I want to be offered a contract for next year. Decisions, decisions.

Dinner was really delicious tonight. I made blackened salmon, spinach salad, and fresh bread. I wish there was some wine to go with it, but not this time.

The weather has been gorgeous this weekend, which I appreciate after that cold spell earlier in the week. We're talking 60s baby, and it's supposed to be 70 by Tuesday. From 15 to 70 in one week - wow! The cold snap killed the broccoli, but not the collards and kale. I put up the last of the kale in the freezer today, and pulled up all the turnips. I will work on the collards this week.

I'm headed for bed; morning comes too early!

Important Bullsh*t

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

The Onion is much more entertaining and accurate that the regular news, don't you think?

Do you lie?

I have a reason for asking this. Is there something you consistently lie about, like your age or your weight? I admit that I lie about my weight to the DMV; it's the easiest way I know to lose 30 pounds. :::grin::: When I turned 35, I claimed 35 for a few years until my son kept correcting me. In public. Loudly. "Mom, you are NOT 35 anymore; that was 3 years ago!" Brat.

Many of us probably lie about this kind of stuff; however, the reason I ask is because I have one friend who lies about her age to everyone, and I mean everyone. Everyone at work thinks she is much younger than she really is, except perhaps the people in human resources, if they are paying attention. She accidentally outted herself to me in conversations about music, college, and world events, and confirmed my suspicious when I confronted her about it. She freaked out and swore me to secrecy, but I still think it's pretty damn funny.

Are these "little white lies" OK, as long as they don't go too far? What do you think?

Someone turn off the AC!

This morning, as I groaned myself awake and tried to convince myself that "vacation is over and I really do have to go to work today," I noticed one thing right away. The instant my warm body slipped outside the covers, it was all I could do to keep from crawling back in. The heat pump doesn't do the greatest job getting the heat down to the bedrooms, and it was downright frosty in my room. I could actually see my breath. Going to the bathroom felt like going to an outhouse. OK, I've never actually used an outhouse, but it seemed all Little House on the Prairie to me this morning. I checked the temperature and it was 15 degrees outside. 15, ladies and gentlemen! That's not normal in Georgia. Holey moley.

When I stopped whining, I drove in to work, grabbing coffee and a biscuit on the way. I was grateful for hot coffee to hold in my hands, because the county turned off the heat in the building while everyone was away on vacation. Despite the chilliness, I worked from 8-3 today, setting up my classroom and writing lesson plans for next week. It's amazing how much I can accomplish and actually enjoy my work when the students aren't there...um, wait, was that outloud? :::snicker::: One more workday, and the students come back on Monday. Report cards go home Tuesday, so the phone calls will start Tuesday night. It should be a fun week. :)

Going back to work tomorrow

'Tis the night before third term and all thru my brain
Misgivings are stirring; school makes me insane!

My grades have been posted -- all the failures and passes.
There should be no surprises for the lads and the lasses.

Still, to my pondering eyes will appear
At least one student with an alligator tear.

"But please, dear teacher, don't let me fail;
Restriction at my house is like being in jail!"

I did all I could do for each young adult;
Anything more would be an act of the occult!

So be it, my students; the new term is here.
I'll forget all this angst while I finish my beer.

Brrr

While I realize that many of you are bundling up against much colder temperatures and nastier weather conditions, for the South, it's damn cold here today. I looked out the window and my poor dog's water tub is frozen over. Right now, it's 19 degrees outside, and very windy. Weather channel says the windchill factor makes it 11 degrees. The high today is supposed to be about 34, and tonight, it will drop down to 15. Things could be worse; after all, the sun is shining brightly and I don't have to go anywhere today in the cold.

Now I have to bundle up and go take care of my dog. Be back later.

I'm gonna pop!

Let the menu speak for itself:

· Coca-Cola ham
· collard greens (fresh from our garden)
· black-eyed peas
· crusty whole-grain bread and butter
· deviled eggs
· chocolate pie

With a meal like this, it has to be a fabulous year. :)

2008

There is something so hopeful about the first day of a new year, as if your slate is as clean and filled with promise as the fresh pages of the new calendar hanging on the wall. The Georgia lottery has an ad campaign that says, "This could be the day." If I have to make a resolution, then I'd like to have more of that kind of optimism. There are many personal and professional goals that I want to accomplish, and the first of January always makes me feel like, "This could be the year."

I hope this is your year. Happy New Year, everyone.