Month: September 2020
Another one from Papa's folder.
As for what happened today -- nothing much. Planning, mowing. Nothing major. However, K and the kids are gone, off for a weekend with friends at the lake. Papa and I are here alone. The house is so quiet. And lonely.
Were this a normal week, I would have finished today feeling that I had laid the foundation my students for the rest of the year by teaching them the basics of the writing system we use. They would have practiced and planned with partners as I wandered about the room, listening to conversations here and there and intervening when I felt it was necessary.
"Please zoom in to 150% on Google Docs," I would have said, "so I can get a peek as I walk by and see if you need direction or not." I would have looked over students shoulders to see if their first attempts with this at-first bizarre system of writing I teach (and insist on students using) were developing according to plan.
I would have told a few students, "Look, you really need some one-on-one time with this, so come by tomorrow during advisory, and we'll make sure you leave feeling much more confident."
Instead, I went step by step with students through the process, but each student was with me for a different part of the process; the other time they worked through it on their own at home with materials I developed. Which means I was unable to assess and assist them as they went along. Which meant I spent an inordinate amount of time assessing things online this week that I never would have assessed in a normal year. Which means I'm not at all confident about my students' development right now.
Covid-schooling.
I was going through Lightroom folders when I found one called "100CANON_fromPapasCamera" from 2013. It was, as the name suggests, from Papa's camera.
Lots of pictures I don't remember seeing.
I don't remember where the doll came from -- some aunt or other gave it to us, or maybe Nana. It's fairly lifelike in its size and features. Enough that when we first put the doll's box in E's closet (far back on the top shelf), he fussed quite about about how terrifying it was to think that such a thing was lurking inside his closet.
Today, K got the doll out to practice for a shoot she did for a friend who just had her first child.
As the Boy was cleaning up his room before bed, I noticed the box on his bed and went downstairs to retrieve the doll. I tried to sneak back in without him noticing because I feared a little breakdown when he realized the doll was going back into the closet.
"Oh, are you putting the doll up?" I heard behind me.
"Yeah. Mama was using it to practice pictures with today."
"Oh." Pause. "That doll -- I used to be so scared of it."
The Boy has a love/hate relationship with spicy things -- well, things he calls spicy. Coke is a little spicy, he says, and I guess there is something of a tingle in the flavor, a small little bite from the carbonation. Of course, we drink it so very rarely that that alone might account for it: he's not used to carbonated drinks.
Yet he loves chips and salsa, and he prefers the medium salsa to the mild. And Aldi's spicy salami? He'll devour that.
Today, while out shopping with K, he was insistent on getting some Listerine to try, because he knew it was "spicy."
His verdict tonight? Not too bad. His expression, though, belies his calm proclamation.