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Sonnets, Again

Friday 14 December 2012

We’re writing sonnets again in English I. “The hardest thing I’ve ever written” is the common consensus. So much to worry about: meter, rhyme, thematic development.

Notes from the board

The kids wonder why we’re doing it. “It’s not like we’ll ever write one of these again,” some protest, and it’s true. At the same time, they’ve never struggled over a piece of writing word by word; they’ve never searched for the right word only to find it’s actually not quite right; they’ve never planned a piece of writing simultaneously word by word, line by line, quatrain by quatrain. In short, they’ve never written like a poet.

What’s the value in this? In a society where most of these kids are fluent with text shortcuts and seem never to slow down, the question almost answers itself.

Observing and Inferring

Thursday 13 December 2012

Of the many things I have to teach my students, one of the most difficult is the art of inference. When we read, we infer, but I try to show students that we infer constantly: about people’s body language, about who’s walking behind us, about the mood of our mothers and fathers — simply everything. But as we begin working with it at a visual level, inferring from photographs, I find that students often think an inference is merely an observation. In other words, they look at a situation, make a generalization about it, and think they’re merely reciting facts.

For example, take a look at the picture below.

It’s tempting to say that one observation is simple: this is in a store. After all, there’s plenty to indicate that:

  • in the foreground there’s a display case with meat;
  • in the background there’s what looks like a refrigerator display case; and
  • there are people who appear to be client and salesman.

However, the very verbage of the description belies the fact that it’s not an observation (after all, I used the term “indicate”) but instead an inference. It might be an inference with a very high degree of probability, but an inference it is.

I think that this might be a source of political friction between the liberals and conservatives. They’re both making inferences that they assume to be mere observations, and when the other side calls them on it, the discussion often slides into ad hominem arguments. Anyone who can’t see the obvious inference — which to the speaker is just an observation — is an idiot. After all, it’s as simple as seeing that the woman in the picture above is clearly shopping for Christmas dinner.

The Dog Next Door

Wednesday 12 December 2012

The plan was simple: it was Sunday; the Girl and the Boy had been inside most of the day; there was still a bit of light left and some power in our small camera’s battery — a walk seemed in order. We reached to top of the driveway and it became immediately obvious that the walk wouldn’t occur.

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It had nothing to do with the impromptu photo session; the weather wasn’t a factor; the Girl wasn’t complaining that she was too tired. No, nothing as complicated as any of that. It was simply that Max, the neighbor’s dog, was out, taking his owner for a walk. Max would make the perfect companion for L: they’re both hyper, hyper, hyper, to the point of carelessness and frustration.

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And so they leaped and ran, rolled and barked (yes, both of them), and the walk never got any further. I stood chatting with our neighbor, a retired gentleman who seems more like a third grandfather to L at times than anything else, and we both remarked at how quickly both the kids are growing.

“We’ll be heading out to Missouri,” he said as the conversation drew to a close, “to spend Christmas with our son and his family.” And I realized again — how many times will I realize this? probably countless — that within two blinks, we’ll be saying the same thing about L and/or E.

“We’ll be heading out to X to spend Christmas with our daughter and her family. Our son and his family are supposed to meet us there as well,” I’ll tell our neighbor, asking him to keep an eye on our place.

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And marveling as he turns to walk away at how recently I did the same.

All photos by the Girl.

Enough!

Tuesday 11 December 2012

I’ve been wrestling with WordPress, the software that runs this system, all evening, on and off. I’m sick of it, aren’t you?

Parties

Monday 10 December 2012

Good parties always have short cigar breaks in them somewhere. And even if one out of the three to try a first (or almost first) cigar end up really enjoying it, one could consider it a success.

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Polska Choinka

Sunday 9 December 2012

For most of K’s life, her family had an artificial Christmas tree. Christmas tree farms were nonexistent in Poland, and if one wanted a tree, one had to go to the forest oneself and cut it — after fulfilling the requisite paperwork for cutting a tree down. (Yes, it seems to me too that Poland has bureaucracy in place for everything.)

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The resulting tree was humble at best. The thick, almost-bushy fir trees of the States would have likely been an impossible dream. Instead, they were sparsely branched, humble trees.

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This afternoon, when K came home with the Christmas tree, she proudly proclaimed that she’d bought a “polska choinka.” With its relatively broadly spaced branches, it looked about as much like a Polish Christmas tree as one is likely to find in the States.

“And it was only $20!” she added with a smile. “I saved us $20 and got us a Polish tree.”

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It seemed only right, then, to leave the decoration to those who had Polish blood — or at least that excuse seemed logical at the time.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son…”

Saturday 8 December 2012

There are some things one really shouldn’t put off. Yet sometimes these are also things that one wants to share with the wider family. When those two come into conflict, one waits. But not forever…

"...and of the Son..."

And so on a Saturday morning, friends and family gather to welcome the Boy into the Church.

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Friends old, family, friends new, baby-sitters — they all come together to share in a small moment of incredible importance. Yet the focus of the day slept through the most significant moment of his life thus far.

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Yet once it was over, and the godparents were ready to hold the Boy,

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and the grandparents were ready to hold the Boy, and everyone was ready to hold him,

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he woke. After all, there was the party to come, and one can’t sleep through one’s own baptism party. Well, at least in theory.

The Day Before

Friday 7 December 2012

So much done; so much to do.

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Cooking, cooking, cooking.

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And a bath.

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Assisted Preparation

Thursday 6 December 2012

We’ve a busy few weeks in front of us: this weekend, baptism; next weekend, Polish Christmas party; following weekend, something I can’t remember, and the same for the weekend after that. I just know it’s busy — blur-everything busy. And that requires preparation for the preparation: you have to plan your plans this time of year, I suppose.

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We begin in earnest tonight: an hour’s worth of ironing. There’s a lot of pressing involved with traditional Polish Highlander costumes. I get to work on some of the food we’ll be serving Saturday: pork roast goes in the oven as I slice the broccoli and cauliflower for the salad.

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Nana and Papa, though, come over to the house to do the real heavy lifting.

Giving

Wednesday 5 December 2012

The Girl has surprised us of late with her generosity, spending her own money to by a copy of her favorite non-fiction book — she’s always keen to point out that it’s non-fiction — for her friend. She continued today, buying presents for a handful of friends and family from the school Gingerbread House Gift Shop (I guess a Christmas time fundraiser).

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When we returned home, she was eager to dig out the wrapping paper and begin layering sheet after sheet on the gifts.

The Boy, on the other hand, is still exploring the more basic giving: the gift of joy.

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