Teaching kindergarten is excellent fun! I mean, seriously, you can never tell what they will say or do. I love it.
Some recent examples...
I was helping one of my kindergartners use his reading finger to point at each word as we were practicing reading a group book. Noticed that his fingers were sticky, so much so that his pointing finger was sticking to the paper. That was odd, as it was still very early in the school day, and we had not used any sticky materials yet. Then I watched as he switched something from his reading hand to the other hand. It was a booger.
The other day I was introducing the weekly Bible story about Noah and the Ark. I showed the Bible and told the students that this story happened a very long time ago, way back at the beginning of the Bible. One little boy popped up with, "Was that back before the 1970's?" (I guess that officially makes me old).
Today I had a rather reluctant child helping wash lunch tables after the mail. Mostly she was moping and disgruntled at having been chosen for this job. I looked at her and said, "Put some elbow grease into that!" The little girl glanced at my face, then with an invisible shrug, put her elbow onto the wet paper towel and proceeded to wash the table.
Can't buy funny stuff like this. Just gotta love it.
(There never will be a dull or sanitary moment in a kindergarten room.)
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Changing the Name
I'm changing the name of one of my favorite activities.
The hubster and I love to get away to the mountains and hit the trail, any trail, just give me a trail...Hiking is a wonderful relaxation for us.
Nature. Fresh air. New scenery (or familiar). Pines. Trees. Birds. Water features. Splashing fish. Bugs. Rain. Other noisy outdoors-persons (female in our most recent case, with their fighting in the water dogs). Stumps. Fallen trees. Roots. Dirt. Mud.
What a list! Regardless, we love getting out there to see God's Creation.
I'm also very good, lately, at implementing my own drama. Camera in hand, I creep carefully up and down the dirt and pine needle paths, sneaking down to the lake's edge - Cooper Lake in this instance - clicking pictures and enjoying the peace and quiet.
Until I found the log. It was thigh high for me, and had fallen over the trail. Sure, I can handle the camera AND climbing over the bark-free trunk.
Neither leg made it. It was a slow-mo two part classic fall and wished we had the video going event. My first leg going up and over slipped on the wet bark, throwing me half over the trunk, while the last leg scrambled to join the party on the other side of the tree. When the second leg made the leap, it came into contact with a slick rock and ground dust, sliding and bumping me face and knees first into a clump of shrubs.
But the camera was fine, although the lens cover fell into the dust. Mostly, I think, I kept the camera shoulder high (as opposed to doing anything to break the fall and personal one on one time with the ground and shrub).
The hubster, right behind me, grasped vacantly at my loose jacket, which was unzipped and provided nothing to grab. Neither could he leap in a single bound the tree trunk and beat me to the other side and catch me. He just watched the excitement, holding onto a piece of jacket shoulder, waiting for me to hit bottom so he could help me up. (He did feel really bad to not save me from myself...)
So I am renaming my hiking hobby to Falling. Whenever we go to the mountains I shall tell people we are going falling. This is not the first time. It seems to be happening more often.
On the list, new shoes with good tread and a longer camera strap so it can rest on my shoulders and not in my hand.
Falling, here we come.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Get to the Point
Wear shoes when watering the late summer vegetable garden. Soothing though it is to stroll serenely through the cool damp grass, hauling a drippy hose, danger lurks when you least expect it.
Just as much as I love the flowers, grass, flavors, smells, and sights of my back yard, so does a myriad of insects and birds (evidence of the birds is dropped all over the zucchini leaves and half of the missing sunflower seeds). The yellow praying mantis was lurking on the dead parts of the potted johnny-jump-ups. Daddy long legs raced away from my feet and the water deluge. The bees and flies were zooming around the towering sunflowers.
The bees also crept and buzzed un-noticed in the clover behind the garden shed. I found one. With my baby toe.
He used his point to get my attention. That's the fastest I've moved in a long time! Scraped out the stinger, and there lay the poor little guy (although at the time I did not think that, since pain was zinging up my foot), gray and black striped, butt-less and dying. Just doing his job and minding his own business. And then I had to step on him.
The point: wear shoes when tip-toeing in the clover (or any other flowering ground cover).
Standing in a pan of baking soda paste...
Just as much as I love the flowers, grass, flavors, smells, and sights of my back yard, so does a myriad of insects and birds (evidence of the birds is dropped all over the zucchini leaves and half of the missing sunflower seeds). The yellow praying mantis was lurking on the dead parts of the potted johnny-jump-ups. Daddy long legs raced away from my feet and the water deluge. The bees and flies were zooming around the towering sunflowers.
The bees also crept and buzzed un-noticed in the clover behind the garden shed. I found one. With my baby toe.
He used his point to get my attention. That's the fastest I've moved in a long time! Scraped out the stinger, and there lay the poor little guy (although at the time I did not think that, since pain was zinging up my foot), gray and black striped, butt-less and dying. Just doing his job and minding his own business. And then I had to step on him.
The point: wear shoes when tip-toeing in the clover (or any other flowering ground cover).
Standing in a pan of baking soda paste...
Monday, September 5, 2011
Zucchini Wars
It took hand clippers, a butcher knife, my shredder, the big measuring cup, a large mixing bowl, and almost 30 zip-quart bags, but I won.
The Attack of the Zucchini Monster was thwarted by stalwart stealth (snuck up on them as they lay there growing larger, fatter, longer, hotter), elbow grease, skinned knuckles (still using the original grater from the beginning of the marriage days), sweat equity, and the upright freezer.
Just you wait, zucchini monster. This winter, when I'm baking the thirtieth batch of whole wheat zucchini bread, I will reflect back and smile.
Zucchini Monster - zero.
Me - 1.