because not everyone here really cares- OR-
Where but in the knitting of an intermediate novice(see side bar)can you find such great hope in the next finished object?
It’s blurry but it’s probably the glow of her magic making it so.
Greatauntofmine has been in and out of ICU. When she was released today she had what’s known as ICU delirium. Who knew that was a thing?
I walked into her hospital room and she said “I’m dying, they shot me. Ask him out there. I was shot. They brought me here to watch me die.”
This went on for 45minutes. Then Dr. Mays showed up, calmly explained to her (using near identical words) that her brain was traumatized from being so sick and was making sense of things the best it could and when she saw someone shot on television and then pulled out her IV bleeding all over the place that’s what it did.
Aunt looked at me and said “now her I believe.” I don’t swear much on here but holy fucking shit what the fucking what!?
And the reason I have her picture was so that when she left I could show aunt and say remember what she said?!
I totally forgot to show you the cutest knitting picture I've ever taken- I wish she felt as sweet as she looks but mostly she was just annoyed that I was taking her picture and stealing her soul.
An update on the school space. A week has gone by and there has been no dumpster fire in the front of my room. I figured out how to use the panoramic feature on the tablet so there is this- which is zoomable
At the high school today-
The young lady that wants to see how far she can go- if I'm really who I say I am- was playing the first two phrases of Twinkle Twinkle. She got to the part that was no longer an open string and said "oh shit." I laughed and sang twinkle twinkle little star oh shit. Later as they were talking about "shredding it on the uke" she said "yea, I'm gonna shred this uke and then I'm going to shred your mama." I laughed, looked at her and the class and said Really? don't do this to me. The room relaxed and all was well.
One of the questions that I asked on their music personality survey was What is your earliest musical memory? Her sister answered Brittney Spear's Hit me Baby One more Time and added only My mom isn't a good person. wow. Reading that gave me a chance to pause, recognize where the anger, defiance and challenging behaviors were coming from and I could respond in a way that was good for her instead of defensive for me.
And finally- I was walking toward my room before class which had a table of ukuleles easily seen from the hallway. A former student (I recognized him but couldn't remember his name) asked why they were there, asked if he could play one and talked about how much nicer it was than the one he had from his grandfather. (this was a $40 uke- he must be playing on a log.) I told him how much they cost and that I could order one if he wanted one. But then I said maybe he should try new strings on his, that makes all the difference and I offered to bring him a set next week.
He was grateful and in an amazingly polite older than his years way, thanked me, shook my hand and introduced himself as Justin. I said "I know you Justin Black (I remembered his last name once I heard his first) I was your elementary music teacher, Mrs. Terry. I cut my hair"
Justin freaked the hell out. He was so excited. Mrs. Terry! I can't believe it! You were such an inspiration to me- I play ukulele and guitar now because of you! I'm in two bands- a heavy metal and a punk band. Wow! I can't believe it. etc. etc.etc. What an absolute gift that was.
Just the day before I was listening to the giggles of kindergarteners playing "Open them Shut them" without any words, It was one of "the moments." Perfect response, perfect giggles, perfect start to kindergarten music. That also felt like such a gift. Today it was re-gifted in knowing that it can lead to the likes of a Justin response.
So we’re supposed to blur any kids faces but once again I have to leave the smile there because she’s using her classroom teachers pointy finger to pick my nose.
Too too many. I need to just stay chill on the outside but seriously I am panicking on the inside. I already knew 10 of them-seven are new. Including the twins (one far right middle row, the other center middle row) They give off a smart and snappy but respectful sort of vibe. I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford stocking the pantry for the whole week. The one on the top right wrote an I<heart>u at the bottom of her snack food preference page. The one at the other end of the top row told me I was her favorite teacher (actually she amended second favorite after math) ever. And it was only third period.
The way I see it the way to build relationships is to establish trust. I shared a lot about myself, my life now, what my life was like in high school. It was one of those pin drop quiet moments. The point was also to say that whatever they’ve got going on outside of school- they’re ok and they matter.
I just think class wise everything is going to take a lot more time. Closer to what I thought it would be last year.
At the elementary school I am still waiting for a confirmation on which kids I see when and what I'm supposed to do with them when they get there. I’m over the fact that I could be doing this much more quickly and efficiently because it’s nice not to have to but I’m starting to get frustrated with the always changing not knowing what it is aspect. Especially since the schedules I made ran as printed on the first day with the only complaints being typos. Today I pointed out one problem on what was supposed to be a final version and she looked at me and said “oh I forgot to take that off of your printed copy, it’s not on mine.” We’ll o.k. then.
Yesterday she also said that maybe I could teach music to first grade two times a week if I focused on rhyming. I managed not to say “name me a song or a poem (which is all that I teach with if she ever looked at my plans) that DOESN’T rhyme for Pete’s sake.
There is what I believe to be one of the kidnapped immigrant children in my third grade. We were looking at the floor rug of the United States and walking to the vacation places and he asked me where “Old Mexico” was on the map. Come to find he speaks Spanish (though his English seems good (but now that I think of it there were a few time when he didn’t follow directions and maybe he just didn’t understand them.) He was definitely digging the interaction- time to download the Spanish dictionary.
And in the category of “kids say the darnedest things”... Michael is on the spectrum.. when kids are playing instruments he waves his hands in the air and says “do you like my directing?” Preferring not to play an instrument and not really noticing that he isn’t. His teacher last year was in constant angry mean sarcastic yelling voice. Let’s call her Mrs. Miller. Today on the first day of fourth grade music I was talking about being kind. I noted that after spending every day together, we sometimes can get on each other’s nerves. When that happens we tend to pull out the mean “I’m right you’re wrong” voice. And then I demonstrated it. Without missing a beat Michael said “that sounds just like Mrs. Miller.” I’m pretty sure he wasn’t really disrespecting his former teacher (who thankfully left the profession this year.). He was just making an observation. A particularly awkward observation to his giggling classmates given that we had just talked about respect. Hil. Air. Ious.
This post is for my future self. When I forget about it I will laugh again.
In other last minute back to school news-
I still only get to teach music once a week and it’s taking almost as much grace as it did last year to deal with it. I may secretly be thinking wait until I get my law degree and see what you think then. I don’t really think that but it helps to make me laugh.
I’m roasting some tofu with a tamari, olive oil, sesame oil, garlic ginger sauce. I’m hoping to get a crunchy texture that doesn’t require frying it because that is such a hit and miss adventure.
The neverending quest to keep a minimalist school space took a step forward this year.
The large storage area with a double door entry has been cleared of all desks and detritus that prevented me from making full use of it. As a result, all of the “stuff” of teaching can be stored and accessed away from the main teaching area. Previously everything was on a cart and the carts hung out on the perimeter of the room. Now the cart sits in the space waiting for the student helper to retrieve needed items and roll it out to everyone.
I’m going to have these pictures blown up and put on the walls so that the putter away-ers know what it should look like when they’re done because after 30+ years it’s painfully obvious that I can’t do that and there are, in fact, some kids who like to make things tidy. Go figure.
One of the most annoying parts of running a classroom is to pick kids to do stuff. I try to make sure I spread the love but don’t know how successful I am. So I bought tongue depressors. Each class has an in cup and an out cup. 300+ names on depressors (writing that many is still better than having one in your mouth). I hope it becomes a convenience and not another new thing that I tried that didn’t work.
And finally the rule about charity is that it’s not really that if you talk about it. But it’s my blog and I only have 2-3 readers. Also rather than a bragging thing it’s more about the gratitude that I have to be able to do small things.
We have a substitute custodian. I taught her 2 boys, one grown and working, the other in high school (and possible in my music appreciation class though I’ve yet to get a class list.) She looks like she might weigh 100 lbs soaking wet. I snagged her in the hallway and asked her to help me do the heavy things and to sweep and mop the new space. She did so with a smile. While it’s all in a days work, I gave her $20 to buy her son a pizza for dinner. There can’t be much extra cash in custodian subbing. She came back and thanked me again at the end of the day telling me that her son was excited and had placed his order. I am very grateful for the fact that finally at this point in life I have the means to be helpful.
Tomorrow there is a keynote speaker on working with children who have experienced trauma. There were absolutely no music teacher sessions after that so I am going to one on making the most of your professional twitter account (really? I’ll admit I’m going to it to look for ways for greathusbandbob to spread his presidential top tens to a broader audience), a session on internet safety where I will be instructed to create passwords that are 25 characters long and a session called West Virginia history which was the last choice available other than instruction on how to use the new math textbooks.
Finally behavior rewards. Classroom teacher each have their own things. While I usually jus mlog on to whatever they do, I wanted some rewards in my room. So far I’ve brought out the previously used risk rocks (dollar store river rocks). I’ve got a large collection of shells which will be a reward for not being “shellfish”. We had been using “caught being good” tokens at a school store. That’s been discontinued but there are still plenty of tokens. I think they might just like having tokens. And as always, there are the Mrs. Terry picture stickers. I really crack me up.
Greathusbandbob and I looked at this house this afternoon. There is a park across the street from it. It is now painted dark turquoise. It is completely gutted with no electricity, plumbing, walls etc. It has a carriage house.
I am stating here for the world to know. I would give up every hobby and every aspiration I have to live in a house like this. I would sand and patch and paint every night into the wee hours. I would sell my yarn stash to pay for it.
That being said, it's not likely but I've let it be known.
Last free Monday of Summer brought artichoke spinach lasagne. I wish I would remember that the food processor is easy to clean. The green sauce came from processed artichoke hearts and spinach.
End of the summer critter making pause- right now its a headless bear but it is one of the best patterned knitted critters I made. Very clever.
And finally the end of the summer binge is Insatiable. Awesome.
Sometimes, in spite of his best intentions, greathusbandbob doesn’t always register what I am saying. He pretends to listen but unless it’s a commercial there’s no guarantee. Enter my turn at the living room chalkboard.
Sadly there are things on the schedule. Teachers go back on the 16th.
At least a small casino windfall led to some gel nails.
I spent yesterday and this morning working on those plans.
They didn't listen to enough music last year. I didn't force appreciation on them. I also didn't really find a way for them to appreciate the unfamiliar much.
This year I am starting each class for the first month with recordings of Gustavo Santaolalla's guitar pieces. (heard here if you are so inclined)
It's guitar. He writes a lot for tv and film so the sounds will be familiar. Nothing is longer than 4 minutes so I can keep their attention. He writes in clear AB and sometimes C form. He changes meter and dynamics. This will give us an introduction to the vocabulary of describing what is heard and practicing purposeful listening. My only hope is that I don't hear someone say "there's 5 minutes of my life I'll never get back"
I'll follow the unit of the plans I developed for the first quarter, exploring the elements of music, starting with melody and moving to rhythm. When the Santaolalla part is over, I'm developing a unit for the month of October called "Classical Music is Scary"
More listening but now more complicated and hopefully just accessible enough because of the whole Halloween connection.
Things I have learned in the process of compiling the Halloween business.
Night on the Bald Mountain is about the Witches Sabbath on the Summer Solstice.
Dance Macabre is about skeletons leading people to their death with the general idea that we are all equal in death.
The guy who composed the music to the original Psycho was cranky and hot-tempered and also composed the music to the Twilight Zone
The scene in the Shining where Danny Torrence rides the big wheel in the hallways is as terrifying in isolation as it is within the context of the movie. It is made more so by Bela Bartok's piece Music for Strings, Percussion and Celeste (mvt 3)
Don Giovanni is the Italian version of Don Juan. And the story really is, after he seduces all of the women he can find, the dead father - the Commandatore(who Don killed) of one of them comes to life at dinner and drags him to hell.
Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King is about trolls, gnomes and goblins punishing Peer Gynt for seducing a young girl. In the play the lyrics are.
Slay him! The Christian man’s son has seduced the fairest maid of the Mountain King!
Slay him! Slay him!
May I hack him on the fingers?
May I gug him by the hair?
Hu, hey let me bite him in the haunches!
Shall he be boiled into grothe and bree to me:
Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan?
Ice to your bood, friends!
Yikes.
The two note theme in the movie Jaws plays every time the shark appears EXCEPT for the final scary part at the end. The predictable music and then lack thereof is used to created even more surprise.
Things to note for next time. When making pizza, the toppings go in between the sauce and the cheese. How I could I not remember that. When trying to pull moisture from the eggplant before cooking, rinse the salt off before cooking. It wouldn’t be horrible with the skin removed. Basil garlic pesto (premade) is delicious and what they put on white pizza. Maybe roast both sides of the eggplant before adding pizza ingredients. Then broil.
This whole pan was only 543 calories so in terms of a way to eat fresh melted mozzarella cheese, it’s a win.
Buildings stay the same, people come and go in them. Everyone thinks of their building as their building without really thinking about whose building it was before or will be after. It’s the same building but a different place for any given former or present occupant.
The building that is the gym is designed so that there are big windows between people in the gym area, specifically the treadmills and Nordictracs look out onto the indoor walking track. They are parallel to one another so if you’re on a treadmill, someone may suddenly pop into your field of vision and disappear just as quickly. Today it was all I could do to not do funny walks, and ridiculous movements as I passed those windows while on the track. I was laughing out loud to myself at the possibilities.
It was adventure day today. First a drive to the Ville of Steuben to plan for retirement. I also stopped at the funeral home to figure out what to do with Aunt if/when she goes. Come to find they take care of moving things. Whew. I wasn't looking forward to a Weekend at Bernie's.
After that I drove to Center Market in Wheeling and ate what they called a crepe at a little place called Later Alligator-
It was good but it was more of a pancake than a crepe- it was filled with ricotta, roasted tomatoes, pesto and a few pine nuts. It was "Wheeling Fancy."
Not wanting to eat two lunches, I headed to Coleman's fish market and brought home dinner for the big guy and myself. To the untrained eye it might not look like much but it is the only battered fish I will eat. AND it's listed on the LoseIt app which I've started using again (450 calories)
There are a a lot ofseveral a few cute shops in the area. It's trying SO hard to be cool and hip in a Charleston, S.C. sort of way. I managed to stay out of the antique shops. The thing about those is that everything looks good when its all next to each other and functions as designer junk. When you bring a piece of it home it just becomes junk.
There was a gift shop that caught my eye and I purchased this t-shirt. It cracks me up and will be the perfect shirt for field day next year when I do my rock paper scissors station.
When you have places in your dreams, they take on Seussical proportions. I drove through some of the places I visit at night just to make sure they're real.
I climbed these steps at least once- sometimes twice- a day- no wonder I was so skinny.
The house has seen better days, (at least days where there wasn't a mattress on the porch) but on the stoop just behind the garbage cans and into the road is where summer evenings were spent hanging out with Jeff and Fred. One time Fred killed a frog with a rock in that very spot. He meant to miss.
I aso drove past the site of my first summer job. It was once called Good Shepard Nursing Home. Now it is still a home for the elderly but is called Welty. The mural reads "when my needs changed." I feel like the bottom half should say "I could only afford this prison." I never left the kitchen but it was one of the most depressing places ever. It may have once been a convent, I'm not sure.
I did the obligatory drive past the high school (which is "on the way" to nowhere.) Just as I was leaving I caught a glimpse of the band rehearsing in a far field. By then it was time to go. Nostalgia accomplished. Seussical places confirmed. And all I got was this t-shirt.
