Sandburg Home
Meeting with Friends
It took some time, but the Girl finally got to spend out-of-school time with one of her best friends from daycare. With so much anticipation, there was only one fitting destination: the zoo.
"I have a lot of energy right now," the Girl told me yesterday, pointing to her chest and adding, "In my body." It's common for three-year-olds, I suppose. Two of them together had an exponential effect. "Guys, slow down!" was the day's mantra.
It was a day of firsts -- not first-time experiences, but merely who could be first.
"Do you want a picture with the giraffe," we asked, and they bolted to the first photo set, the Girl reaching it first and shoving her head and shoulders triumphantly through the opening.
"I'm supposed to be first."
With some cajoling and physical manipulation, we managed to get them both in the frame. For all of 1.5 seconds, they sat still for a picture, then bolted off in different directions: the only sure way to make sure one is first.
The energy must have been contagious, for all the animals were unusually active. The reptiles were slithering about in their displays, and the four-year-old orangutan, Baby Bob, was climbing, rolling, and jumping.
Just more examples of the continuity among the animal kingdom's pre-schoolers.
April’s List
March was a slow reading month. Too much student work to read. In fact, looking back on the month, I'm not even sure what I finished reading.
| Author | Book |
|---|---|
| Mark Steyn | America Alone: The End of the World As We Know It |
| Walter Dean Myers | The Glory Field |
| Charles Dickens | Great Expectations |
| Louis Lowry | The Giver |
| Robert Marzano | Classroom Instruction that Works: Research-Based Strategies for Increasing Student Achievement |
| Pope John Paul II | Crossing the Threshold of Hope |
A Perfect Weekend
A perfect weekend might center around something like this:
Friends and family, good food and good conversation. That’s all the adults need.
L looks for something a little more active. Three dogs might just do the trick.
Three dogs and a swing raise the probability of satisfaction to nearly 100%
Three dogs, a swing, and a row of azaleas — well, perhaps we’re pushing our luck with that one. L loves flowers, but only insofar as they are pickable and portable. Lately she likes to pick flowers, tote them about a bit, crush them with affection (like the cat), then proclaim that she’ll plant them in a glass of water in her room so they can grow.
They rarely do, but she never gives up.
The Girl on the Funeral
We were sitting in front of the computer, watching the streamed footage of President Kaczynski's state funeral when the Girl began asking questions.
"What happened?"
"The plane fell."
"Why did it fall?"
"There was a lot of fog. They couldn't see."
"It was dark?"
"Yes, it was."
"I know what happened. They forgot their flashlight."
A simple explanation for the tragedy. Later, she asked for clarification.
"Did the whole plane fall?"
"The whole plane fell."
"Did it fall on the road?"
"No, it fell in the forest."
"It's not good to go in the forest with an airplane. It's dark. They can't see."
Photo: "Dark series #12 - the forest rouse" by Xavier Fargas
Birthday
"You say it's your birthday?" It was tempting to sing the Beatles' birthday to Papa yesterday when he turned forty-something (he was a precocious child). We settled for the old stand-by, in more ways than one.
The first old stand-by: the Girl is the center of attention, even when it's Papa's day.
Even when sisters come to make brother-Papa the center of the day, the Girl manages to charm everyone.
"You, and you, and you -- watch this!"
The second old stand-by: the Girl makes most of the decisions, like who gets to wear the birthday hats and who gets a pass.
Cake is another stand-by, with Happy Birthday New Year candles.
When Papa turned forty-something (the first time, that is), Nana and I tried to put forty-something candles on the cake. It was a Herculean task to get them all lit before the first ones started going out.
"H-A-P-P-Y N-E-W Y-E-A-R" (what are they doing selling New Year's candles in April?) was much easier to light.
And blow out, I'd imagine.
The ultimate, ever-new stand-by: Papa showing Nana that, even on "his" day, she's still the center of his world. (Like the reservoir behind the Three Gorges Dam, though, the Girl puts a little wobble in that orbit. Just a little one.)
Kiss Attack
Viral
Od momentu odzyskania niepodległości Polski do najazdu naszej ojczyzny przez Hitlera i Stalina, i przekroczenie granicy Rumuńskiej przez Prezydenta Mościckiego upłynęło 7615 dni.
Od odzyskania demokracji przez Polskę do tragicznego wypadku w Smoleńsku upłnęło... 7615 dni.
Just doing my part...
The Girl Reads
Lumberjack Fail
It's almost worth of FailBlog: I cut down a tree in the backyard. Those two clauses would be enough to make many worry. "Did it fall on your house?" "Did it damage your neighbor's property?" I miscalculated, but nothing so awful.
The tree -- diseased and dying -- was a mite, just a tiny bit too tall. A few inches. Of what significance would a few inches be in our almost infinite galaxy? For the want of a nail and all that...
When the tree fell (after much tugging and physical cajoling, for I didn't want it to fall on our neighbor's fence), the top portion caught a branch of a neighboring tree.
And there it remained.
Today, I took care of the problem, but not without some trepidation. As it stood -- or rather, half-stood -- I didn't know which way it would finally fall. Cutting from the bottom seemed most logical: eventually, gravity would serve to create a fulcrum out of the weakened part of the tree, pulling it in on itself.
It worked. But not after I literally cut through the entire tree, a nerve-wrenching experience. I could see the tree lurching this way or that, cracking me in the thigh, breaking a leg, an arm, a whole bag of bones. I cut through to the mid-point, then made paranoid careful cuts: squeeze the chainsaw's trigger, a little cutting, then a retreat.
In the end, I won: no broken bones, and the wood is now is now curing. And I'm finally coming down from my chainsaw-testosterone high.
Transport
A trip to the park is nothing new. When it's warm, with everything blooming, it's hard to stay indoors.
The Girl gets to climb, run, slide, swing, and fall.
Get to relax a little bit.
The difference today was the transportation:
You Might Have To
I go home to learn about life from my daughter. I learn what goes on in her school, what her teacher says, how her teacher teaches.
L, like any good story teller, doesn't simply tell us, though, she shows: she begins incorporating various phrases from school into her own speech.
"You might have to" becomes the key phrase. "You might have to do this." "You might have to move that." I can imagine L's teacher helping her with this or that task, explaining, "You might have to try it a different way, like turning it the other direction." "You might have to wait. I believe someone else is using those crayons."
"That's okay" is another. I spill a little milk and mutter "Shoot" under my breath. L consoles me: "That's okay."
Old Friends’ Visit
The Promise of the Future
We took our students on a field trip to a district vocational school where students can learn everything from cosmetology to aircraft repair. We weaved in and out of the classrooms, learning a little about the requirements and salaries of the jobs the students were preparing for, as well as the expectations of the class. Students asked questions and occasionally listened with wide eyes at salary possibilities.
Though they're only fourteen, they're already thinking about their future and their careers. It's an exciting and uncertain time.
At age fourteen, I was sure I was going to be architect. I was thrilled at the prospect of taking drafting in high school, and though the thrill was gone by the end of the second year, I stayed on for a third year of drafting. In a sense, I regret it: I never directly use those skills now. Auto shop would have been of much more practical value.
I thought about telling the students all this as we walked from room to room, but we almost always learn -- truly learn -- such lessons firsthand.
MAP Testing
When I walk up behind her, she's already read the question:
Read these two sentences:
- The odor of the blossoms drifted across the field.
- The fragrance of the blossoms drifted across the field.
What is the primary difference between these two statements:
- connection
- connotation
- context
- conceptualization1
She's selected "connotation," but she's not sure. She clicks "context" and then "connotation" again. She clicks back and forth, several times.
I linger to see what decision she makes. I cross my fingers, hold my breath, hope that she's going to select the right answer. Glancing away for a brief moment, I'm disappointed to see that she's made her selection while my attention was diverted. Being forbidden to discuss the test, I'll never know if she got it right.
There's a lot pedagogically wrong with that simple fact. 2