New Knowledge or Revisiting the Basics

Having a puppy for one week has taught me a few things:

1) Having an indoor and an outdoor potty plan may prolong house training, but it's my most realistic option. I'm gone too long during the day to expect Max to only "do his business" outside, but when I'm home I would prefer he go outside. So far this is resulting in poop outside (except twice) and when outside is not an option pee inside on the house training pads (except three time). All of his accidents were results of me relaxing a little and veering away from training procedures.

2) Standing in the backyard, at 4:00am, saying "get busy" in your bathrobe while your dog poops is not embarrasing. I repeat, "Standing...."

3) At the end of the day, (come to think of it, at the beginning, in the middle, and all through the night too) he is a puppy.

This new knowledge is useful in the classroom too.

1) Always have an alternate strategy or plan (just in case) and every moment is a teachable moment (don't get caught up in the moment and loose sight of the bigger picture)

2) It's not about me, it's about my students. Do whatever it takes to teach.

3) Throughout the school day and all the hours before and after, they are children (middle school does not mean they have adult reasoning or thought processes).

Meet Max!

Apparently, work, household repairs/remodeling, and life in general weren't keeping me busy. I don't know what came over me, but I decided the to go for it. On Friday, I brought home a puppy!
Meet Max, he's seven weeks old and an expert at being a puppy. As an owner, I am a clueless novice. I was able to get a quiet night sleep last night (thanks to the "Sock Mommy" I made for him and the crate I purchased) The same cannot be said for our first night together.
Max! (He's supposed to be a chihuahua/dachshund mix, but I think there's something else in there too. I hope it's small!)

Kobi is indifferent towards him. He has had to hiss at him a couple of times, but he hasn't tried to do any serious physical damage.
Kobi loves to look into the backyard in hope of getting to go out.

You move you lose! (Kobi went to get a drink and...)This mix-up in the order of the universe was corrected with one hiss and a rather rapid walk/hop in reverse.

Kobi got his wish! While Max was sleeping, Kobi and I spent some time outside. I spent my time drinking coffee, Kobi spent his time relaxing.

Making My Peace

photo from www.libertineusa.com

For years, I've done battle with the word cute. It seems like a polite thing people say when you are not attractive, or they don't take you seriously. It is often based on size and not personality or style. Try as I may, cute describes my appearance and most of what I say, do, or own. I've been told my house is cute (I guess the lavender and light green interior paint contribute to this problem). My clothes are cute. (I still attribute this to size.) My mannerisms are cute.(That pinky thing when I eat or drink is an involuntary action...REALLY!) You get the picture.

For the past two years, I have tried to reinvent myself. I have discovered my version of glamorous is clownish. (Eyeshadow is tricky.)My powerful is stressful and far too angry. (No more committee or boards. The politics suck.) And, my sexy is absolutely disasterous! It was a lot of work and only made me tired and frazzeled. (Can I blame the lousy cooking on the time I spent trying to be sexy? Sorry if I scared you D. ;)

A little over a month into being 46 years old, I look in the mirror and guess what I see accept realize...I'M CUTE!!!

cute  /kyut/ –adjective
1. attractive, esp. in a dainty way; pleasingly pretty: a cute child; a cute little apartment.
2. affectedly or mincingly pretty or clever; precious
3. mentally keen; clever; shrewd.
(www.dictionary.com)

I've learned that people like cute. It's non-threatening. People who get close to cute people are there because of who we are not what they can get. YEA CUTE!!!

(Thanks TravlinOma for inspiring me to write about this recent discovery.)

So Many Depend Upon...

The Red Wheelbarrow
William Carlos Williams

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.



I remember when I first ended my love affair with poetry. I was in a literature class, and we were analyzing The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams. I actually enjoyed the poem until the professor insisted that this was a poem about the importance of the proletariat (the wheelbarrow) and the false importance place on the bourgeoisie (the white chicken).

This morning, as I raced against the rapidly arming burglar alarm, I considered how much depends on the job I do. My students depend on it, the community I teach in depends on it, society as a whole depends on it, and so does my mortgage.

so much depends
upon
a diligent
teacher

drenched by
perseverance

beneath a
mountain of standards.

Six Word Saturday

Shakespeare never fails to lift my spirits!

At Peace With Myself

Last night I attending a community theatre performance of Shakespeare's A Comedy of Errors. It was part of a Shakespeare festival and as usual did not disappoint. The event is held in the vineyard of a small winery which was a positive addition to the "break from my life" atmosphere that surrounds any Shakespearean play. The winery also makes some of the best Sangria I have ever had.

I went alone because friends were either unable or unwilling to go. I had a great time. While I don't relish the fact that their are times when it boils down to going alone. I revel in the fact that it doesn't bother me to do so. I know many people who don't do or see things they want to do or see because no one will go with them.

As for my life, grading is done (this week was our third week of school), listening to Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman (audiobook), reading The Language of Bees by Laurie King, Shakespeare, and Sangria. Life is good!