Bundles

We had to turn the air off last night because it was freezing up and not working right. The four little sleeping bundles on the floor became sweaty little bundles as the night wore on and never cooled. By the time the birds were in full song they were no longer sleeping bundles, they were giggling masses swarming through the house. I tried to go back to sleep but the birds and the giggles and the heat wouldn't let me. By 8:00 it was 80 degrees and I couldn't take it anymore so I turned on the air. Unlike the rest of us, I hope it got enough rest last night.

With my desk in a new spot I can now look out the front windows to see what's going on. I just glanced out front and saw three of the bundles (one returned home) racing down the driveway. They had seen the garbage truck coming down the street and wanted to run to it. As they got closer they realized that they didn't actually want to talk to the sanitation workers or be too near them. Their running slowed as they faltered. These men are paid by the day, not by the hour, so they move fast. They are long gone by the time the bundles reach the end of the drive. They stand there for a moment, watching the truck drive off, maybe wishing they had been a little faster.

Is this why I always have trouble naming my posts?

One of the coolest people I know is Sonya. She recently sent me some poetry that she was reminded of when she saw the Sleepy Hollow store picture that I posted. I love that a little picture I took with my cell phone can somehow be related to these cool poems by aaron abeyta. This is what I love about his poems: the very last line talks about how giving a name to something can make it last forever. The simple act of naming gives permanence. I like that idea. I've always toyed with the idea of naming my house. Not because it's a big presumptious mansion, but because it's mine and I think it deserves a little recognition. Except I've never been able to come up with a suitable name. If it's going to last forever it should be something really amazing. The other thing I love about the poems is that the very next poem tells us that those named things don't really last forever. They get torn down. But. Maybe because we named them they will be remembered.
Anyway, here are the poems:


san acacio garage

metaphor of dirt straw water
human work
set solid
at llano’s edge

a poet
someone with patience
for almost straight lines
must have made this their
three word poem
red lettering on plywood
a shouting sign
to no one passing through
SAN ACACIO GARAGE

the brown adobe garage
must handle the teacher
who says her language
is not diligent enough
forced into a lie
that thousands of adobes
handmade human placed mud mortared
are not diligent enough when compared
to new steel
and windows larger than
the moon fading through them

can this be reason enough to write
those three red words
which remind us
even empty garajes with
slanted light razoring
through cob-webbed windows are
human adobes

adobes with missing teeth
adobes that are lonely
adobes that lose children before and after christmas
adobes that had their rights purchased before they knew their rights
adobes with water that doesn’t flow
adobes that get no mention
adobes that don’t read good books
adobes that should learn english
adobes that don’t dare call themselves mexican
adobes whose bodies are shaped by wine
adobes with bells that don’t ring
adobes made new with paint and then condemned
adobes made mostly of earth
adobes whose sermons are on sin
adobes whose savior fell three times before rising
adobes who are mothers
adobes who are fathers
adobes of thinking stone
adobes of forgetful wood
adobes made of three red worded poems
adobes that should be noticed
adobes that do not fall when they are not
adobes that do not wish their walls to glass
adobes that do not wish themselves to steel because it is new
adobes that are like a huge garaje in the tiniest town
adobes that speak after their patria quits listening
adobes that are heard even after the paper has sent letters of denial
adobes that last forever
adobes that sing old songs
adobes that last because woman and man saw them from the earth
adobes that last because someone saw fit to give them names



san acacio garage an update

they tore her down

i thought that garage
blooming from the llano
like those cactus my abuelita liked so much
would last forever

joe’s ethereal garage
specializing in holly carbs
four bolt mains
domed pistons
and cruising machines
which roll south
through the town of san acacio
the worlds greatest detox center
eight miles in one direction
32 in another and too many
in the other two
from a drop of wine

damn that town aint seen grapes
since 1932 when ms. san acacio
used em as a prop in her fruit of love skit
man was that a sweet sweet chingon scene
when she started feeding them to herself
b/c juan the king of atzlan and leading man
had a rally to attend

I may go back to bed

It's raining. For the second day in a row my newspaper got soaked. What's the purpose of putting the paper in a plastic bag if you then throw the bag into a puddle in the driveway?

I love sleepy rainy mornings. I'd like to open all the windows and let the cool rainy air come through, but it's just too hot. I haven't been able to turn the air off for a month. Let me rephrase that: I could have at any time this past month turned off the air but chose not to because I'm such a big whiney baby who hates to be uncomfortable.

So my bedroom. I have been spending money like crazy. I think I went shopping every day this week. Normally I can go months without ever shopping. But my can of paint has morphed into new everything. New mattress, new bed, new art, new window stuff, new lighting, new fan.

I bought some picture frames that I liked and then planned to buy some prints to go in them. But I couldn't find any 8X10 prints. Other than those simply adorable ones of cute little kitty cats in teacups or some other nonsense. I kept looking at big ones trying to figure out how to cut them up. But who wants to spend $30 on a print just to cut it up? I'm much too cheap to do something like that.

I went to Borders to look at calendars to cut up. There were 2 to choose from: lighthouses and Amish people. What happens to all the 2006 calendars that don't sell? Why can't someone sell those for like a dollar? What I really wanted was some simple black and white prints. I found a book about orchids for $3 that had some great pictures in it. So now I have pretty white orchids in frames for my bedroom. And yes, one of them is a ghost orchid. I'm digging through old frames and trying to figure out where else I can hang orchids. Since I killed the lovely orchid I used to have, this is the only way I can ever have an orchid.

My sister yelled at me for not having pics of my family on every possible table top or free wall space, so I think I might hang a few of the kids.

Speaking of kids, i'd like to post a pic I just got of my niece, but my brother told me he is much too private a person to be mentioned on this blog, along with his darling daughter. Which is odd, since this is the same person who runs in his underwear. So just picture it: the third cutest kid you've ever seen, sitting in a big green tub, grabbing her toes with a big elfin smile on her face. I hope she's an elf for halloween. Or a pixie! A pixie would be a fun costume to make. We can save the elf for Xmas.

Instead I'll leave you with a pic I took on the way to guitar lessons yesterday. One of the things I love about where I live is old places like this that don't really belong anymore. Except maybe It's the new McMansions that don't belong.

Camping

To me, camping should be you surrounded by nature, crickets lulling you to sleep, pleasant woodsy smells, nature walks, campfire cooking. Peaceful. Unless I go camping during a holiday weekend. Then I know it will be crowded, there will be no sleeping, and there will be much alcohol. This weekend I was expecting the peace and instead I got the other. The Latinos that were way across the field from us did not turn their radio off until 3am. Don't think that because they were way across the field that we couldn't hear them. We heard every beat perfectly. While the music seemed fitting during dinner when we cooked quesadillas, it was less pleasant for the 3 hours I laid in the tent trying to fall asleep. I believe they stopped at 3am because that's when the rain came. I love falling asleep in my bed, listening to the rain. It's such a soothing sound. Unfortunately rain pellets banging onto a tent don't have that same soothing quality. The rain stopped around 6am. The drunken hillbillies walking around passed our tent at 1am. I can tell you what happened each hour of the night because I was awakened at least once an hour. If I even fell asleep at all.

The woman across the street yelled at her kid constantly. I don't think he was a bad child, I think his mom just had one volume level and it was set at screech. Two little dogs yip yapped all day to the left, and three monster german shepherds barked occasionally to the right. Miniature juvenile delinquents pegged the dumpsters with rocks and swore loudly every time they passed by. On the hay ride some little darlings spent the whole trip nailing everything and everyone with fistfuls of hay. Another monster harrassed other kids from his 4 wheeler.

But-
There was an old cemetary nearby and we walked around looking at the headstones. The kids got to fish and swim. We cooked s'mores and roasted hot dogs and made dozens of 'hobo sandwiches'. I made a roaring fire all by myself and coaxed it into staying through a small rain shower. It wasn't a total disaster. The next time we go camping though, I get to pick the place.

School stuff

The big thing about teaching in an elementary school is having a behavior plan. This tells what rules are expected to be followed, and what consequences will result in what order if those rules are broken. The first one is usually a warning and the last one is a trip to the principal's office. I have a few behavior plans that I wrote for school and student teaching and I've been thinking about it for weeks now. This is what I've decided and I hope it doesn't blow up in my face:
If my first consequence is a warning, then every student can act up once a day every day and not have any consequences. I could spend my whole day issuing warnings. I decided I'm not giving warnings for first offenses. I'm also not following a set list of consequences. I will decide the consequence based on the action. I do not want to be constantly looking at some chart to see whether this action requires a detention or call home. I think this will work better with my personality. The other teachers will not have similiar plans so I hope it doesn't cause any problems.

The first week of school should be all about procedures. Before any lessons can begin, students need to know what the expectations are. I have been writing up procedures for anything I can think of, so I can explain these during the first week. Things like asking to use the rest room, or sharpening a pencil, or what parts of my desk are off limits to students. All the little details that people don't normally think about. Once I get this squared away then I can start working on my lesson plans. I am counting down the days until August 7th, when I can step into my classroom and take a look around and take a deep breath.

Bedroom Update

I'm almost finished painting. Just some touch ups left. The blue is a little brighter than I thought it would be. I feel like I'm painting a nursery. I have a bad feeling that it will be out of date in a year and will need to be changed. But we're going to keep that to ourselves for now. The furniture is ordered and will be here soon. I need new bedding and some artwork. I also want a new ceiling fan. My little project is becoming much bigger than I thought it would. Our party is in 3 weeks, I just hope I can get it all done by then. I really should be focusing on planning the party, and getting stuff ready for school, but instead I'm throwing myself into this project. Typical.

Reading

I finished reading Amy Tan's Saving Fish From Drowning this weekend. It was ok. Not nearly as bad as some of the reviews made it sound. Amy Tan's novels always seem to shift back and forth from the past to the present. I always prefer the parts set in the past. Maybe that's why I didn't love this one, it was almost completely set in the present. I read this book while camping and while I was reading, the rest of my family was off actually saving fish from drowning.

Next I have a book by the guy who wrote Lemony Snickett, Daniel Handler. This one is for grownups though. I hope I like it. My kids are still plugging away at the Series of Unfortunate Events. They haven't even finished the first book yet, but at least they are reading other books on their own as well. I took some pics of them reading the other day. I just tried to post them on here, but it's not working. Oh well, I'll try again later.

A tale of two stoplights

The city of Cleveland has decided that cameras should now be used to catch people going through red lights. These cameras snap a cute little pic of your car as you zoom away, and then in 4 to 6 weeks your ticket arrives first class mail. The problem is, people get freaked out when they see a yellow light and slam on the brakes. People like me. I'm just glad that no one was behind me because they would have sent my face through my windshield. I stopped so fast my ABS kicked on. I'm not normally a freak, but I knew my butt might not be quite over the line when it turned red. I hate that stupid camera. It makes me not want to visit my brother as often, since it's on the way to his house. Also contributing to my infrequent visits is his habit of running on the treadmill and then answering the door in his undies. I don't want to see a sweaty brother in his tighties and Nikes. But that's another story.

Later today I was rushing home from the grocery store, having forgotten that guitar lessons are tonight. I was driving through Brunswick, which locals sometimes call Brunstucky due to the fact that it can't quite shake its rural past, even with the help of a Starbucks. There aren't a lot of cops driving around in Brunswick so I wasn't too worried about driving through a red light. I did check oncoming traffic, and I did go through it just a split second after it turned. One woman, from the opposite direction took offense at my driving through the light. She properly stopped and couldn't believe that I didn't. She was in such disbelief that she had to roll down her window and throw her arm out in some sort of what's up with that kind of wave. That poor thing. I hope she's ok.
I'd like to imagine her sitting down at her computer right now, fingers a mile a minute as she blogs to all her loyal fans about the idiot she saw today driving through a red light.

Still painting

I'm taking another break. This time to eat my tuna lunch. My mom always chops up some celery in her tuna salad but I don't like crunchy things in mine. I do however, love crunchy things like apples in my chicken salad. Go figure.
The first coat of primer is done. I may do a partial second coat. I can't believe how much brighter it looks in there. I hope I like the blue color I picked out. I'm very annoyed that they don't let you return paint anymore. That makes me not want to be as adventurous. This is the third time I am painting my bedroom since we've lived here. We've been here six years. I know people, in my own family even, who could go 30 years without repainting a room. 10 years boggles the mind, but 30? If it wasn't such a pain in the butt I'd do it even more often.
For the remainder of my luch break I shall be looking at camping recipes. Did you know that you can cook an egg in a hollowed out orange peel, just throw it in the fire? Not that I'll actually be cooking anything like that, it's just nice to know I could if I had to.

Painting

I am stalling right now. I should be finishing the painting that I started. I have the trim done (primer only) but I haven't even started the rest of it. Why do I always take on these big projects then never want to finish them? Normally I love my bedroom, but I can't easily reach the the top of the walls and I am wishing for ones that aren't so tall. I have to stand on a ladder to reach everything. Because I am an idiot, I stand on the ladder incorrectly. I'm not exactly sure what the correct way to stand on a ladder is, but I'm fairly certain that it is not barefoot, on the wobbly topmost step with pajama bottoms that are too long and keep causing tripping. I've come to the conclusion that it is only a matter of time before I fall off. I just hope I don't take the television or any small children down with me.
I still haven't found a bed, let alone new bedding or drapery. But that's ok because I probably won't get the color on the walls until next week. We are going camping this weekend. What I should be doing right now is getting organized for that. But I'm not.
Allright, back to the grind.

Cool Blue

Some of you may know that we bought our house as a foreclosed property and it was in bad condition when we bought it. The old owner had removed everything that wasn't nailed down. Oh wait. He took stuff that was nailed down, too. Like carpet, molding, doors, toilets, sinks, lights. He had also thrown many items into the yard, and then left the yard unmowed for years. Nothing too damaging, but lots of cosmetic stuff. We spent six months working on it until it was ready to move in and it still isn't done six years later. This weekend we got glassblock windows in the basement, which is our first step toward finishing the cinderblocked basement. I have a room off my bedroom that is meant to be a bathroom. It has holes cut in the walls and various plumbing thingies sticking out. There is a toilet in the corner of the room, not attached to anything, and some cabinets. The room tends to accumulate junk and I have to clean it out again every so often.

I have decided to redo my bedroom, and as part of that redo we took out the computer desk and all the crap that goes with it and put them in the bathroom. So now I have an office. With a toilet in the corner. I've been told it's temporary and I will have that bathroom someday. I'm still holding out hope, but it's fading. The kids want me to paint the walls because there are a bunch of scribbled measurements and things all over, but I refuse. I want that constant reminder of where a tub could go, and how much room is left on that side for the shower. But, in the meantime, it is nice to have a little more space. I'm filling up bags and plastic tubs of stuff for school so I can pile it all in here.

My room redo started out as a new coat of paint and some different bedding. Because a little rug rat climbs into bed with us most nights, we are thinking about a bigger mattress. A bigger mattress means a new bed. A new bed might mean new nightstands and ceiling fan. It also might mean a new chair under the window since the desk is gone. Or it might just mean a new coat of paint. We shall see.

Rude

Joey had a sleepover party this weekend so the rest of us went to Home Depot and then grabbed a bite to eat. We went to Shake and Steak, which I assumed most people know is just a baby step away from McDonald's. You have to know going into a place with a drive through window that you aren't in for a gourmet meal. Apparently this eluded the family that was seated near us. The dad threw the bun to the side and grabbed his hunk of meat that he waved around as he loudly complained, "Is this really a double burger, or did you just cut one in half?" Then his wife started in with her loud exhalations of disgust aimed at her plate. "Can you bring me some fries?", she bellowed at the poor servers (who are a couple of sweet looking high schoolers). When the girls tried to ask what size order of fries she wanted, she grew even more huffy and told them to just forget it. Don't those girls know that if someone is too lazy to actually read a menu, that person will also be too lazy to decide what size fries to order? The dad sent his back and the mom spent the rest of the time giving dirty looks to everyone. Finally, they threw their tip down and headed off to the parking lot where mom could really lay into her kids and grab a big chunk of arm to shake. Why do some people think it's ok to be so very rude to others?

Shopping

I went garage saling with Sarah Belle and the kids yesterday. All Belle wanted was a dresser and I wasn't looking for anything in particular. Belle did not find her dresser, but I found almost $30 worth of yummies. Oh, and Belle also had to shell out money for lunch at Cozumel's and gas for her guzzler.
Here's what I got:
camping chairs for the little ones, because they have outgrown their spongebob chairs
A cooler because every time we go camping or fishing one of our coolers disappears. One day all these coolers are going to find their way back home and I will have a garage full of coolers
Little storage things for my classroom
Cute little borders for my bulletin boards
A cookbook. Why do people want to get rid of cookbooks? Especially pretty ones? I thought you could never have enough cookbooks
A bunch of captain underpants books. These were $.10 each! In perfect condition. My boys will love me because I will let them read captain underpants in school
A timer so I can time various activities. I'll probably never use it but it was a quarter and it's blue
A Mariah Carey Xmas cd. I love Xmas music. I will begin playing it on Thanksgiving.
I think that's all. I also stole one of my sister's cd's. I may or may not give it back to her.

Mustang Gary

He's wanted a new Mustang ever since he sold his Mach 1 to pay for our wedding (and no I did not ask him to do that, if anything I tried to talk him out of it). We have to roll our windows down any time we pass one on the street so we can all hear the sound of the engine revving. Cali has learned to spot a Mustang 20 miles away. He's owned 2 mustangs since then, but they were not anything special. He sold one of them, again because of me. I could not drive stick. I am quite possibly the worst stick shift driver ever.

A while ago he heard a whisper about a new Shelby coming out. He's been looking online and stopping at dealers for months, trying to find some information about it. he keeps showing me the same movie clip of its test drive. No one ever knew anything, and then, this past week, they're suddenly all over the place.

Well, not exactly. Dealers are only getting a few cars each. One dealer has 4 of their 5 cars sold already and they aren't even in yet. Another dealer sold theirs to some jerk in California. Many dealers are selling them on Ebay. The minimum seems to be $25,000 above sticker price. I have never paid sticker price for a car. These people are willing to pay 50% above sticker. That is insane.

I'm kind of glad they're are only 1 or 2 cars around. He's very persuasive and I'm easy going. It probably wouldn't be too hard for him to convince me to spend my first two years paychecks on a car for him.

Breastfeeding

The other day in our Plain Dealer there was an article about a protest. Some breastfeeding mothers were having an 'eat-in' in front of a Victoria's Secret store because they were upset about what they considered some anti-breasfeeding policies. At least I think that's what they were upset about. I didn't read the full article. I did notice the picture though; several women sitting or standing in front of the store with a child attached at the nipple. I think only one of the children pictured seemed to be a baby, the rest were definately toddlers. I cringed when I saw that picture because I knew people might freak out when they saw how old the kids were. I had no idea, though.

The Plain Dealer publishes letters to the editor of course, but they also publish a Monday Moaning section where people can call in and mention something that is bugging them. At least I assume people call in and don't write in, because the rambling sentences and odd fragments usually resemble the way we speak and don't resemble the way most adults should write. Anyway, someone was so upset over those mothers breastfeeding toddlers that the person called in to complain. That topic is the one topic that this person needed to moan about more than any other topic in his or her life. I have a pretty cushy life. Even so, my life is not so easy that my biggest worry is someone else's mother.

And the letters. Geez. I'm used to topics like abortion generating a lot of anger and hatred, but breastfeeding? Why on earth does breastfeeding make some people's blood boil? This one man was just insane in his ramblings. He talked about how those children are going to have emotional problems later in their lives. I don't believe he was basing that on any obscure study he may have found, I think he took full credit for that gem of knowledge. He also felt compelled to tell breastfeeding women that if they must feed their children in public, then they must accept his ogling as a result. He seemed almost giddy about these free peep shows. His closing kicker was this amazing leap of idiocy, where he equated urinating in public with breastfeeding. He threatened to urinate alongside a woman anytime he saw her breastfeeding in public.

This is something I just don't understand. Why do people care how other's feed their children? Why do they get so angry and mean when they see a woman feeding a child that is no longer a baby? Where is the cut off line between tenderness and disgust? How can people be disgusted by breastfeeding? Why would you feel the need to direct such venom toward something that has no effect on you whatsoever?

This crazy letter writing freak lives near me. His children might go to the same school as mine. He might be pushing the shopping cart next to me at Giant Eagle. Since he seems to enjoy telling others how to parent I'll give him a few tips when it comes to me. Leave those innocent breastfeeding mothers alone and save your dirty looks for those of us who shove sugar down our kids throats instead of fruits and vegetables. Grumble about our unhealthy fast food trips. Preach about how we sit those poor innocents in front of the tv for hours on end. Direct your urine toward those of us who submit our children to second hand smoke. Use your powers for good, my man, not evil.

Cottage

I went garage saling today. I haven't done too much of it this summer and I miss it. The kids were a little whiney so we didn't go to many houses. Oh well, maybe next week. I did get a cute little rolling cart thing for the classroom as well as some of those stacking shelves to put on your desk. I'm so excited that I have actual things to put in the room. I have no idea what to put in the cart, but I have a cart now. I got a couple more books, too. I'm trying to look for books that appeal to boys more than girls because I have so many that I bought for my daughter and because most boys don't usually like to read.

I've been looking stuff up online and printing it out like crazy. I've written out some of the procedures that I want to use. I'm going to use some sign language in the classroom, for things like getting attention and asking to use the bathroom. I don't have a loud voice so I have to find ways other than yelling 'shut up' to get them to quiet down. I also made some hall passes. This is so much fun.

We're getting ready to go to the cottage this weekend. Little ringletted Dora the Explorer will be going there for the first time. All the other kids have been there once or twice before. We're all very excited. I'm going to go the dollar store in about an hour to pick out some little toys and stuff. It's amazing how much fun can be had from a seemingly worthless toy. We're trying to get the older generation to come hang out for the day. Usually when we go, it's just us and our kids. It's been forever since we were there with our parents. Maybe this is the next step towards the family reunion that we always talk about. I am a little nervous because I read an article about a bear sighting near the cottage. I'm not sure how near, it could be 50 miles. Or it could be .5 miles. Bears scare me. I don't want to go for a nice walk and stumble across one. I'd die of a heart attack and it would eat me. I don't want to be eaten.

Happy Birthday Dora the Explorer

Not much happening on the teaching front. I've been looking up lesson plans and stuff online. Sticking everything in my favorites folder to read later. I've been too busy partying and swimming this weekend to do any real work. We had a birthday party on Saturday.

Is it possible to fall in love with a 3 year old based on the little ringlets that are in her hair? Seeing those little ringlets falling down her back is like stress relief. All my worries seem to disappear as I watch those ringlets bounce with each step. Every time I see her I want to pick her up and swing her around until she squeals. And usually, she lets me!

For her birthday I let her paint my nails. if any of you were considering letting a 3 year old paint your nails, you might want to reconsider. It took me two days to get all the polish off my nails and fingers. Every one who saw her painting my nails wanted to tell her what a fabulous job she was doing, but they all had a difficult time keeping a straight face. I watched every single one of them think to themselves "Thank god it's Mrs. B instead of me".

That's ok though. It was totally worth it. I got to see her look with such concentration and determination at the job she was doing. I got to have her hold my hand so gently, as she carefully picked up each finger. I got to watch her little angel lips pucker up and blow air on the polish to dry it. I saw how proud she was of herself. She can paint my nails again any time she wants.