from the porches

the funeral

Today one of our fourth grade teachers had a funeral for words we consider "dead".  Words like: got, went, big, said.  When fourth graders write essays and narratives, the words should be precise and specific like: grabbed, dashed, enormous, exclaimed.  That is, if the 9 year olds want high scores on their FCAT Writing test.

Well, I missed the funeral but I heard all about it.  All the students dressed in black.  Some girls even wore high heeled shoes.  I understand the funeral was quite an event.  Since this particular class is girl-heavy, and we all know how 9 year old girls can be drama queens, they literally cried real crocodile tears as they stood around the burial hole, dropping their dead words into it. They played a recording of mournful, sad music on a cassette deck.  The girls clung to each other and wept...loudly.  They boo-hooed and really played their roles good.

One girl told me she will never, ever again use the words:  got and big.  Another girl clung to her teacher wailing,  "But they were too young to die!"

I missed the funeral because I was teaching a different class.  This will probably be a highlight of their elementary lives.  Boo hoo.

seeing double

This morning my friend, Lucille, and I hovered around the TV in my classroom at exactly 7:50 AM.  We were waiting for the big debut.  Originally, I had told the tech teacher,  "No way.  TV makes you look at least twenty pounds heavier."  But, because my friend said, " Oh, Merry and I will tape the morning messages,"  we did.  What else are friends for?

So, we're sitting in student desks, and I'm truly amazed I can still fit into one, and the TV is on.  Blue screen.  Then the show begins.  We did really good in saying,  "You have a good day."  This doesn't seem hard, but the written script had said,  "You all have a good day."  Of course, Lucille and I never got the timing right so we reduced the script to "You have a good day...now the Twizzler.  That wasn't very professional looking, but the kids got a kick out of it, the red Twizzler hanging from my lips.  In fact, I rewarded good listeners today with the rest of the Twizzlers. 

But the whole time I watched the morning announcements, I thought,  "I'm watching Sherry, my twin sister...my double."  I'd had bet money it was her and not me.  Our mannerisms are EXACTLY the same.  The way I pursed my lips, trying to look serious; the way my hands looked as I fiddled with the Twizzler, kind of trembly-like.  I told Lucille,  "That's my twin sister doing the morning message."  It was really freaky, even for me.  But I was pleasantly surprised with the overall broadcast because I looked really buxom.  "That's me?  I've always been flat-chested."    But TV don't lie.

a tv star

This morning one of my best friends appointed me, and her, to do the morning announcements for our school. I had already said no to the tech teacher, but Lucille told the tech teacher she would do the announcements with Merry. "Thanks!" I said. "I don't appear on tv. I'm shy." At that moment Lucille laughed hysterically.

So we got our script outlining the pledge, the daily menu, tomorrow's menu and fundraiser information.
I do not like having my picture taken, much less being videoed; therefore, I was stressed to the max.

But Lucille and I practiced. We knew we may be in trouble when we were both to say, "Now have a good day" in unison. The script was written, "Now you all have a good day." We practiced and practiced, giggled and hee-hawed at our timing which was way off.

Then it was time. I think I did pretty good leading the pledge, talking about the fundraiser, etc. But I loved it when Lucille, our speech teacher said, "I'm Mrs. Idarola, your speech tether...teacher." Then came the part about the prizes...a blinking ring which we both proudly showed to our tv audience and Twizzlers. Heck. I'm not going to show the pack of Twizzlers. I immediately pulled one out and stuck it in my mouth, with it dangling out of my mouth like a cigarette.

Tomorrow morning's announcements should be interesting. The videographer giggled alot while we were filming. Do you think that may be a clue?

let's play school

Let's play school.  Have you ever watched a thunderstorm?  Raise your right hand if you have.

This afternoon when I got home from school the southern sky was an ominous blue-black.  Oh boy, a thunderstorm is coming our way.    I heard rumbling of thunder in the distance, along with flashes of lightning toward the south.  I became anxious like a cat on a hot tin roof.  Quickly, I dealt with the business, went to the bank, rushed to the post office and came home expecting to enjoy an August thunderstorm porch-side.  Truett and I sat on the front porch and watched the steady gentle rain fall.  We waited and waited; but the storm never came.  I was disappointed.   

sounds of child play

Truett and I baby-sat with Maddie and Oliver this afternoon.  I told Merry-Jennifer I felt like I was in a preschool during this time.  Both children were into their own playing for the most part, when Truett didn't have Maddie in a bear hug tickling her.  But this was pretty typical of the sounds of the children playing.

All was quiet when we arrived.  Whispering and silently reading our books.  We knew the silence would end at any time.  Then we heard a soft scuffling of little girl feet followed by "I need a snack."  For thirty minutes I gave Maddie my undivided attention and then I heard banging on a crib by little boy feet.  Oliver was awake.  Now the afternoon party begins.

Maddie climbs a musical rocking horse which neighs and clomps.  Clippity-clop.  Clippity-clop.  Oliver tries to grab its mane and Maddie scoots off  on the horse.  Clippity-clop scoot scoot.  Clippity-clop scoot scoot NEIGH!  For twenty minutes.  This is followed by Oliver pulling himself up to the Fisher Price Keyboard and hitting the keys.  Then both kids spied the farm animal musical thing where you pull the string.  We are now listening to Old McDonald Had a Farm..Quack!  Quack!  Moo!  Moo!  Gobble!  Gobble!

I'm not complaining, mind you, because I'm beginning to hear Oliver say,  "Aaay!  Aaay!" as he throws a fit when Maddie doesn't share Fritz's toy ball with the raccoon tail, commonly bought at Cracker Barrels. This means the whining and fighting sounds will begin before we know it. So the sounds we heard today were pleasant ones, including "Buh..Buh" when Oliver saw the soccer ball.   

Truett and I left this afternoon with all the Markhams waving bye-bye, including Oliver.  As we drove away the silence was deafening.

one week

I made one week of school so far and I give it an "A".  Actually, classes are going pretty good.  Car rider duty, too; except for a handful of parents who insist on dropping their children off at 7:00 A.M.  Boy, I feel guilty about dragging myself to the gate, or stopping to talk with another teacher or student on the way to my post.  The gate sign clearly states: Gate opens at 7:15.  I should know because I put up the sign.  Some of these parents look downright indignant that I don't race to the gate to take their kids off their hands.  But, I bet they would be the first to sue if their child got hurt without supervision...and supervision begins at 7:15.

We baby-sat Maddie and Oliver last night.  What a fun several hours that was.  Oliver's curiosity astounds me.  He's into everything, pulling up and pushing his musical keyboard to the wall, walking behind it.  But not walking by himself yet.  I swear I thought I heard him say,  "Nana" last night. 

Maddie plays rough with Oliver; but he just cackles and smiles.  One time Oliver was crawling on the floor.  Maddie grabbed his feet and began pulling him backwards.  What does Oliver do?  He latches on to the highchair and it rolls behind the two of them.  So we had a train.  Maddie...Oliver...highchair.  I needed of photo of that for scrap booking.

Maddie has become quite the polite young lady.  I asked her if she would like a cracker as we left school.  "No, thank you."  she answered. 

"My, my.  What a polite young lady you are, Maddie."  I said and she smiled.  Then she stated,  "I'm not a young lady.  I'm a girl!"  She is also into princesses, just like her mother was.  I definitely heard Maddie tell Merry-Jennifer,  "I'm a princess and princesses don't suck their thumbs." 

We'll see about that tonight,"  I thought.

So now it's the weekend.  It's so hot and H-U-M-I-D down here.  By the time the fog cleared away this morning, I looked like I was wearing a football helmet on my head.  No fluffy curls.  No wisps.  Just a big package of gelled haired all stuck together.  Maybe I should rid myself of the gel.

So have a great weekend.  I certainly plan to.

rememberances

Today I was in the cafeteria watching preschoolers eat their lunch as well as throw temper tantrums and half-flips off the lunchroom benches.  That'll get your undivided attention.  I also saw an attractive young dad eating with his kindergarten son.  "Hmmmm!  I wonder who that is?"

  Then, as I was pouring my tea, a deep voice said,  "Hey, good-looking.  Aren't you going to give me a hug?"  I looked up and it was the kindergarten dad.  I rared back and squealed,  "Corey!"  I didn't recognize you.  You're a man now!"

Sure enough.  The kindergarten dad was a former student of mine about 20 years ago when I taught 4th grade.  I'll never forget that kid.  He was all boy and involved in sports.  The year I taught him in 4th grade he had brought a blowfish in for "Show and Tell."  Then, at break that year, I observed my fourth grade boys playing football.  They were screaming and yelling.  I rushed to the playground because I thought there was a fight.

You won't believe what I saw.  The boys were playing football with the blowfish (puffer fish).  No wonder they were howling as they caught the blowfish.  The spikes on it were like needles.  Being the good teacher that I am, I confiscated the blowfish and told young Corey that I would like to buy the blowfish and proceeded to write his mom a note.  It would make a great object for my Science Center. 

Corey's mom answered my note by saying she would gladly give it to me.  So, I've had the blowfish for over 20 years.  I named him Spike. Now, whenever I see this mature young man, I chuckle because he has a history that has lasted for two decades.

rule #2: sit still

Today I had more second graders in my classes.  Mind you, as first graders, most of them did not come to me, and then some came only in groups of 4 or 5 last year.  So basically, I'm teaching classes of 25 second graders this early in the year, only they haven't matured into second graders yet.  We're talking about 6-7 year olds.

Second graders, in the beginning of the school year are quite challenging, particularly with me as their teacher.  They fidget.  Rule #1:  Eyes on the speaker.  Rule #2:  Sit still.  I can't count the times today that I said to only a few fidgety students,  "Rule #2 says, "Sit still."  Over and over and over.  Then I got smart. "Pencils down.  Stand up.  Run in place until I say stop."  What a relief.  The fidgeting stopped. 

Of course I had the typical answer to some of my questions by only a few children, "I don't know of a favorite place."  But I was kind, coaxing and urging at this point in their writer's life.  Jackpot!  "The park!"   Little do they know that by October, they'll have to do their own thinking.

I'm not complaining, mind you.  I love every second of this experience. 

bringing it down

Today was the first day of class for the 2007-08 school year for me.  It went well since I didn't see all my class load, just a few classes.  Some of the homeroom teachers were instilling their rules and procedures into those little minds and skipped writing the first week. 

I did see a second grade class and they were to write the name of a favorite place they've been.  I love the phonetic spelling of these brave little souls.  "bech...Tenisee...Wild Udventrs"  These students are coming straight out of first grade, so I will cherish their phonetic spellings for half a year.  Then they will mature into more correct spellings.

At 3:00 P.M. I came home and worked in the office.  Truett said Merry Jennifer had called and was taken to the ER last night with chest pains.  Turns out she has pneumonia.  A neighbor came and watched Maddie and Oliver in the middle of the night while Sam's mom drove down from Lake City to relieve the neighbor. As her mother, I felt distraught and offered my help to drive down tonight to help out. 

Merry Jennifer.  What a special daughter.  As I watched TV tonight, bringing the day all the way down to a feeling level, I focused on all the sweet things about Merry Jennifer.  Her voracious love of reading and tender care with animals.  Her beauty and beautiful composure.  Her kind heart, and even the will she wielded when she was Maddie's age, which drove me batty.  But...I am still her mother.  I tell Maddie that Merry Jennifer is my little girl and Maddie says,  "No.  She's my mommy!"  And Maddie is right.

So MJ, if you're reading this, know I'm thinking of you and get well soon.  Tell Maddie that Nana says to "Be good."

go to the mall

We had a wonderful day today.  Truett and I did our chores and had about two hours to kill so we sat on a bench in the Gainesville Mall and people watched.  Now that's a trip.  I have to agree with Jeff Foxworthy on his rules about dressing.  One saying being,  "If you weigh two hundred pounds, then spandex is not your type."  I bet 90 per cent of the women at the mall were either overweight or definitely wearing the wrong kind of clothes.

I've had difficulty buying shirts, tops, and blouses because most of them are made of synthetic fibers that cling and show every lump and valley, but mostly lumps.  In fact, I almost bought a Florida Gator shirt made in Bangladesh from the "Gator Store" but the shirt was made way too small; probably for Bangdalesh women.  Well, the mall showed all the don'ts of dressing. One heafty girl with too-tight jeans, black tank top, tattoos and piercings was looking pretty cool or in charge.  When she stopped in front of us, she yanked her cellphone out of her back pocket and it went flying all the way to Radio Shack.  She wasn't cool anymore.  Too bad.  Only the old people saw her. 

The movie, "No Reservations"  with Kathyrn Zeta Jones was a good movie.  A good story.  She is a chef in the movie and I thought,  "Give me a break!", but by the end of the movie I wanted to decorate my meatloaf or Hamburger Helper with basil leaves.  Actually, it's worth seeing.  It's a love story.

So I'm satisfied with my last free weekend before the children start back to school.