soozphotoz

paper, scissors, and glue

Sigh. Tomorrow I return to work after two full weeks of Winter Break. The week was a leisurely one but not altogether unproductive. I relished the time I spent playing with my paper, scissors and glue. There is something distinctly therapeutic and relaxing about using these simple materials and tools to form a creation that is so different from its beginnings.

When I began my teaching career, lo those many years ago, I taught preschool and early elementary students. One of most important skills students needed to master was to develop the hand-eye coordination and manual dexterity to cut along dotted line and then glue their masterpiece into a designated area on the paper. Most four and five year olds could spend an hour just happily cutting away until they were left with a glorious pile of construction paper confetti. I think they must have felt a bit empowered to change the shape of something into whatever form they desired. The process was as important, if not more important than the product.

There's a lot to be said for process. I think that the love of process is what motivates us to learn, to create, to eventually produce something of intrinsic value. But too often people, and students in particular, are acknowledged only for what they produce; they are rarely, if ever, acknowledged for their process, or their love for it, after those golden early elementary years.

To instill a love of process is to foster a love of learning. To cut, to glue, to write, to read, to create, to discover, to explore....these are the processes that create life-long learners. Maybe this is my educational philosophy; cut paper as though there were no dotted lines...and love it for a life-time.

SNOW DAY!!!!

Admiring my first completed knit sock :-)

Okay, I know that this is the very same photo that I uploaded to Facebook but at least I'm posting something again on my blog.

HOORAY for today's snow day....not much actual snow but plenty of ice. Enough ice in fact to make me not want to venture out to the grocery store for food. I've been surviving on sugar cookies and salt & vinegar potato chips this morning. There is homemade soup in the fridge leftover from last night but I'm saving that for a late lunch. 

My plans for the remainder of this glorious do-nothing day? None really...I guess that's the beauty of it!

Try, Try Again

I read on Facebook that Corey of Tongue in Cheek has posted everyday for THREE YEARS! How remarkable for her, how depressing for me.
I have been thinking lately of posting a photo a day and Corey has given me the push I needed.
I have used the excuse of not going outside much lately (lately meaning for months) but I figure I have enough stuff in this house that I could probably fill a years worth of post with common everyday at-home photos. As boring as that may be, at least I'll be back to using my camera again.
Wish me luck!

novocaine

Bon Jovi - Novocaine live

Two hours and forty-five minutes seems longer when someone has crammed both hands in your mouth and endlessly prods and pokes and drills and sticks you with long hideous needles. Yet as I glibly strolled out of the dentist office, I thought to myself "that wasn't so bad." It's easy to be tough while the drugs are still working.

Then, the Novocaine wore off.

Suddenly, the egg salad and soft whole wheat bread I'd bought for dinner made sense (yes, even buying the egg salad instead of making it myself made sense too). I took my preventative Aleve but numb is soooo much better than not-as-inflamed-as-before the drilling began.

Speaking of drilling, most people I know would probably agree that the high-pitched sound of a dentist drill is the worst part of having four (yes, count them, FOUR!)consecutive (as in, all in the same visit) root canals. I went prepared for the harrowing noise of the drill by taking my iPod. All was well during the several shots of Novocaine (ahhhhh) and the scraping and other preps. But then the drill began. It is my belief that 30-foot concert speakers cannot mask the sound of a single dental drill. But the iPod did help; it gave me something to clench other than the dental assistant's throat.

A couple of days from now, when I can again enjoy a cold Pepsi and Ben & Jerry's Triple Fudge Chunk and other staple foods, I will be grateful for having subjected myself to the pain that follows Novocaine. Until then, I just keep listening to the calming sounds of my Playlist now titled Novocaine:

Heavenly Day - Patty Griffin ( I love this song so much it will be on almost every Playlist for a while)
A Whiter Shade of Pale - Annie Lenox
Across the Universe - Fiona Apple
Broken Wings - Cherish the Ladies
You'll Never Be the Sun - Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt & Jewel
Dresses of Lace - Nancy Griffith
Two More Bottles of Wine - Emmylou Harris
Our Town - Iris Dement
Corner of Your Heart - Ingrid Michaelson
They - Jem
Simple - k.d. lang

Poetry is...

City Lights bookstore, San Francisco

Write On Wednesday - Discovery

I am looking for the face I had before the world was made. ~W. B. Yeats

This week Becca's Write On Wednesday poses the question What's Your Line? When I first read the prompt, the word FOCUS seemed to jump off the page and my first thought was...oh my, I'm often so ADD that focus is a difficult concept for me to wrap my pen around. Yet, at other times, when pursuing an interest I can become quite intense and unwavering in my quest to know as much as possible about whatever has stirred my passions. So to put a more positive spin on my diametric self, I would say that my focus in Life (and therefore, Writing) is DISCOVERY. I love to discover new people, new ideas, new foods, and new places, whether they be near or far.

This incessant drive to discover is undoubtedly the impetus for my love of Travel. If there is such a thing as a "Travel Gene" then I certainly inherited this from my father. As I was growing up, each summer my family of four (Mother, Father, Sister, Brother) would pile into the family car and take a two-week vacation. Rarely did we go to the same destination twice. Living in the midwest (St. Louis) had definite geographic advantages -- we were almost smack dab in the middle of the country (or so it seemed). By the time I was twenty-one, I had visited all but five States (Hawaii, Alaska, Maine, Michigan, and Oregon being the exceptions.)

My father would save all year for our treks and would start planning them months in advance. Some of my fondest memories of my father include sitting with him as he mapped out routes and places of interest along the way to our destination. But even as I write these words, I realize that I learned a far greater lesson from my father than just the vital skill of map-reading. I learned in a very practical way that the journey IS the destination. Our vacations were not just about arriving at a specified place, they were about discovering and appreciating what was in between. We would often tease my Dad that if there was an historical marker next to a trash can , we'd have to pull off the side of the road to read it.

My legacy of wanderlust is something for which I will always be grateful. Just as we hope that our own children might someday take pleasure in the same things that we enjoy, I realize that in my continued travels my father lives on through me. Sadly, it has become increasingly more difficult for him to travel and I hope that in sharing my own travels and photos with my Dad that I can somehow provide for him some vicarious experiences. And perhaps I love to travel so much because at the root of it all, my fondest childhood memories are of our family vacations. In this sense, I suppose I am running toward home, not away from it.

It's funny how when I began this piece, I intended to focus on the journal writing which I began as a child on our family journeys and how linked my writing has always been to travel and vice versa. But while writing this, I made a new discovery--that my quest for exploring new places and experiences far from home, always circles back to where it all began...at home with family.

awry

something by Picasso which I photographed (legally) but I'm not certain that posting it is legal

Speaking of Legal vs. Illegal...this week and next week, my school is administering the state standardized test for NCLB. I signed a document stating that I would not disclose anything about The Test. As far as I remember, the Disclosure Form did not prohibit posting a photograph that depicts how I feel about said tests (see image above).

I do not find it coincidental that in the very week that standardized testing interrupts my life, that a major news story informs us that drinking eight glasses of water per day is unnecessary. Duh. No one that I know drinks eight glasses of water per day. No one that I know has the freedom to dispense of eight glasses of water during the work day, nor has the desire to spend their resting moments in a room that has nothing whatsoever to do with resting.

So to the math teachers of the world I apologetically say...I have never once had to use Pi in my life after college (except perhaps for the occasional Jeopardy answer). And to the bottled water manufacturers of the world (esp. Fiji) I say...thanks anyway, because your products are superior to my tap water but my consumption will not wane nor grow in response to Recent Findings.

Guess I'm just an English-Major, I'll-drink-whenever-I-feel-like-it, learning's-so-much-more-than-ABCorD kinda girl.

Indulging my Alter-Ego

photo taken in Doolin Ireland with my Holga camera

I talked about doing it and finally did. I got a tattoo. My mother simply shoot her head and my father reminded me that my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit.

People who have never had a tattoo (the former Me) always want to know if it really hurts. People who have had a tattoo (the present Me) usually respond with what can be condensed to an all-encompassing DUH! Imagine jabbing yourself a few thousand times with a rusty razorblade in the same inch-and-a-half square area. Yes, it hurt. A lot. But for me it was like being sixteen and having my ears pierced all over again.

On both occasions I went with friends who were virgins at self-mutilation. And again, I volunteered to go first (I tend to be more brave than bright). I KNEW that if I didn't put on a brave front that not only would I be the first in line, but that I would also be the last. But unlike having your ears pierced, tattoos take longer. And they hurt more. And you can't just let the old skin grow back. But that's okay....fortunately, my tattoo artiste was brilliant and I love my tattoo. It's so vivid that it could have been done in Crayola Crayon colors that they didn't even make when I was a kid. I'll love it even more when I don't have to clean it and lotion it up ten times a day and when it stops feeling like a sunburn on top of a bruise.

Would I do it again? You betcha! Would I do it tomorrow? Not on your life! My Alter-Ego is going to have to take siesta for a while because I have a lot of unfinished knitting projects to attend to....

snapping out of it

Bryce Thompson Arboretum - outside of Phoenix AZ

Okay...I've been absent...I've been lazy...it's March (aka almost Spring) and I am snapping out of it! (the lethargy, the funk, and the writer's block-icity).

What I HAVE been doing: knitting (and not just scarves anymore...I took a sweater class so I have moved on to more laborious projects); visiting not-quite-sunny-enough Arizona; and practicing (at work) for Testing (imagine that little spitting sound one makes in disdain).

It's lunchtime and I took a quick walk out in the (drumroll......) SUNSHINE! Five minutes on a park bench with one's face inhaling the sun can do wonders for the soul.

Alas, now I must go prepare to preach Poetry to eighth graders....however, one can do worse than be a Preacher of Poetry. Some random photos that have a loose connection but that I cannot fully explain now:

Barrel cactus on a bed of clover

Mariachis at Aunt Marie's party

x

Yummy looking isn't it?! Especially so when I was able to have breakfast outdoors a couple of days.

A Lesson in Knitting

Knit 5, Purl 5

I only learned to knit last month so my repertoire of items is rather limited; it includes scarves and well, more scarves. Guess what everyone is getting for Christmas this year? Even my niece-in-law who currently lives in Texas just a stone's throw from the Mexican border (the scarf above is hers but in my defense it's a sort of "welcome back" gift as they are returning to Maryland soon).

Each day I would take a scarf project with me to school and knit during lunch and at bus call at the end of the day.  One of my students, Sandra, is very interested in crafts. Each time she saw a different scarf-in-the-making she would ask about it. Recently she asked for a pass to go to the Media Center (aka Library) and she returned with a book entitled Fully Wooly:

I was tickled that Sandra was going to teach herself to knit when she sheepishly extended the book to me and said, "I thought you'd like this. You can learn to make a hat."

Hmmm....imagine that. A student pushing the teacher to expand her horizons, push herself beyond her comfort zone. I had just the night before taught myself to purl and wanted to defend my apparent lack of knowledge. Instead I thanked Sandra for the book and brought it home that evening.

I haven't tried knitting a hat yet (still putting the finishing touches on gift scarves) but I must admit the book contained a valuable lesson that my other knitting books did not. It contains an illustrated section on Fixing Mistakes. To fix a mistake one must unknit or knit backwards. I really hate backwards. I have enough trouble with forwards. However, the directions were clear and had pictures....in teachertalk we call this Guided Practice.

Now that I am more confident in having the skills to fix mistakes, I am not as worried about making them. Naturally, this applies to more than just knitting. If I can convey to my students that there are proven strategies to fix their mistakes in reading comprehension and in writing, they too will have the confidence to take more risks. Learning depends on risk-taking. I think that I will attempt the Pixie Hat or Sassy Skullcap in Fully Wooly. And if it turns out okay, I'll give it to Sandra for being such a good teacher.