Lee St. John's Blog, page 10
February 27, 2017
What Else Did You Find 'Down There'? 1/27/17
I am having a good time with the live video feature on my phone. After you broadcast LIVE, you can post it to your Facebook site. I hope you will visit my author FB page and LIKE the page. But you can see the video lineup even without LIKING the page, I think. Stop now and go there and LIKE it. I’ll wait for you here. Here is the site: https://www.facebook.com/leestjohnauthor
Did you scroll back so far to see my farce about not being able to find my car keys? I pretended to have misplaced them. I said that hubby was out of town and if I didn’t find the only set we had (not true) before he returned, he would blow a gasket (not true.) I don’t know much at all about cars but I do know that saying and it means trouble. I could have used another metaphor, but since I was writing about cars, I thought I’d use that one.
Now, in that video I am lamenting about how I cannot find my car keys and also I realize that I cannot find my clip that carries all my charge/insurance cards. I profess how I do not carry a purse (I don’t) because I don’t like the fact that a) you can never really find anything in them either and that the bottoms of the pocketbook get so dirty with grit of some kind or another, wrappers from anything, a rogue french fry or two, pennies, and other materials that drop to the bottom, it’s nasty to the touch. At least to me. I find that gross and then I don’t want to go looking for anything any more.
And b) carrying a purse requires you keeping up with it when shopping and I mean this part to have two parts, too. Having a pocketbook while shopping means you have to keep up with it by either 1) carrying it on your shoulder and even if the purse is small or big, if it has long shoulder straps, the straps hinder you getting a good days shopping done because as much as your throw your purse backward out of your way, they eventually swing back in your frontal direction and get in the way. This hinders serious shoppers because you are going to town with those hundred of hangers on the shopping rack and this endeavor is really bothersome. 2) If not carrying your shoulder-strap purse then you must leave it in the buggy and you certainly can’t shop that way either. It’s like a child sitting in the buggy seat. You keep watch on your purse and you can’t get any real shopping done.
So, no, I don’t carry a purse. I carry money/bank charge card/insurance card/ library card/ discount fundraiser discount card/ Kroger plus card/ driver’s license/ Sam’s card/ Credit Union identification card/ old no-longer-working charge card clipped in my money clip. Where do I keep that, you ask? In my bra. With my car keys. And maybe my lipstick. And sometimes my phone (although I know better to put that there).
I hate pocketbooks! My brush, more lipstick, nail file, loose change, tissues, or other expired fundraiser discount cards all stay in my car. What do I need a purse for? I have a mirror in my car, too, that lights up. I am not lacking and wanting anything in a purse that a store’s bathroom or my car can’t give me. What do I need an old cumbersome purse for? Or even a small purse. The above reasons are enough to not wanting to carry all that extra crap.
So, the video went on to tease not finding my keys…and also my charge card. Then realizing where I might have put them, like I always do, there were more treasures to be found with those twin girls: eyelash curler, a really LONG nail file, lipstick, and multitude of other things that shouldn’t be housed in a bra. But storage is storage. And since I did find my car keys and money clip, I am going shopping!
Did you scroll back so far to see my farce about not being able to find my car keys? I pretended to have misplaced them. I said that hubby was out of town and if I didn’t find the only set we had (not true) before he returned, he would blow a gasket (not true.) I don’t know much at all about cars but I do know that saying and it means trouble. I could have used another metaphor, but since I was writing about cars, I thought I’d use that one.
Now, in that video I am lamenting about how I cannot find my car keys and also I realize that I cannot find my clip that carries all my charge/insurance cards. I profess how I do not carry a purse (I don’t) because I don’t like the fact that a) you can never really find anything in them either and that the bottoms of the pocketbook get so dirty with grit of some kind or another, wrappers from anything, a rogue french fry or two, pennies, and other materials that drop to the bottom, it’s nasty to the touch. At least to me. I find that gross and then I don’t want to go looking for anything any more.
And b) carrying a purse requires you keeping up with it when shopping and I mean this part to have two parts, too. Having a pocketbook while shopping means you have to keep up with it by either 1) carrying it on your shoulder and even if the purse is small or big, if it has long shoulder straps, the straps hinder you getting a good days shopping done because as much as your throw your purse backward out of your way, they eventually swing back in your frontal direction and get in the way. This hinders serious shoppers because you are going to town with those hundred of hangers on the shopping rack and this endeavor is really bothersome. 2) If not carrying your shoulder-strap purse then you must leave it in the buggy and you certainly can’t shop that way either. It’s like a child sitting in the buggy seat. You keep watch on your purse and you can’t get any real shopping done.
So, no, I don’t carry a purse. I carry money/bank charge card/insurance card/ library card/ discount fundraiser discount card/ Kroger plus card/ driver’s license/ Sam’s card/ Credit Union identification card/ old no-longer-working charge card clipped in my money clip. Where do I keep that, you ask? In my bra. With my car keys. And maybe my lipstick. And sometimes my phone (although I know better to put that there).
I hate pocketbooks! My brush, more lipstick, nail file, loose change, tissues, or other expired fundraiser discount cards all stay in my car. What do I need a purse for? I have a mirror in my car, too, that lights up. I am not lacking and wanting anything in a purse that a store’s bathroom or my car can’t give me. What do I need an old cumbersome purse for? Or even a small purse. The above reasons are enough to not wanting to carry all that extra crap.
So, the video went on to tease not finding my keys…and also my charge card. Then realizing where I might have put them, like I always do, there were more treasures to be found with those twin girls: eyelash curler, a really LONG nail file, lipstick, and multitude of other things that shouldn’t be housed in a bra. But storage is storage. And since I did find my car keys and money clip, I am going shopping!
I am a Tooth Grinder 1/16/17
My wicked friend, Jennie Joe, used to ask me to say this saying out loud and fast three times:
I AM A SHEET SLITTER
I SLIT SHEETS
HOW MANY SHEETS CAN A SHEET SLITTER SLIT?
You try. 3 times. Fast. Out loud.
Now you get it.
Well, I am a tooth grinder. I grind teeth. How many teeth can a tooth grinder grind?
I don’t know when it started, but of course like many, I needed to eventually get a mouth guard. Mouth guards are coverings worn over teeth, and often used to protect teeth from injury from teeth grinding and during sports.
There are three types:
“Stock mouth protectorsare preformed and come ready to wear. They are inexpensive and can be bought at most sporting good stores and department stores. However, little can be done to adjust their fit, they are bulky, make breathing and talking difficult, and they provide little or no protection. Dentists do not recommend their use.
Boil and bite mouth protectors also can be bought at many sporting goods stores and may offer a better fit than stock mouth protectors. The “boil and bite” mouth guard is made from thermoplastic material. It is placed in hot water to soften, then placed in the mouth and shaped around the teeth using finger and tongue pressure.
Custom-fitted mouth protectors are individually designed and made in a dental office or a professional laboratory based on your dentist’s instructions. First, your dentist will make an impression of your teeth and a mouth guard is then molded over the model using a special material. Due to the use of the special material and because of the extra time and work involved, this custom-made mouth guard is more expensive than the other types, but it provides the most comfort and protection.
Generally, mouth guards cover your upper teeth only, but in some instances (such as if you wear braces or another fixed dental appliance on your lower jaw), your dentist will make a mouth guard for the lower teeth as well. Your dentist can suggest the best mouth guard for you. An effective mouth guard should be comfortable, resist tears, be durable and easy to clean, and should not restrict your breathing or speech.
If you grind your teeth at night, a special mouth guard-type of dental appliance — called a nocturnal bite plate or bite splint — may be created to prevent tooth damage.”
(http://www.webmd.com/oral-health/guid...)
I had #3, the custom fit night thingy one. It only covered my front two teeth, just enough to keep my bite open.
Over time – years really – I ground it down until it broke. Now this guard isn’t cheap. Hopefully they kept my mold but if not, I was going to have to pay for that, too. And I didn’t want to have to fork out that kind of money.
So, as usual, I came up with my own grind solution. I bought a baby pacifier. I mean, all I really needed was something between my teeth to keep the grinding at bay. A pacifier is used for soothing and comforting a fussy baby. “Most babies have a strong sucking reflex. Some babies even suck their thumbs or fingers before they’re born. Beyond nutrition, sucking often has a soothing, calming effect” (http://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lif...). I didn’t need it for sucking, of course. I needed it for keeping my mouth open a little so my teeth didn’t touch during the night.
So, I bought one. Still have it. Still use it on occasion. It stays in the top drawer of my bed’s nightstand.
But I just found out about this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Baby Pants Classic Adult pacifiers are larger versions of the ever popular Gerber NUK pacifiers. The shield is approximately 2 5/8 inch wide and 1 7/8 tall. The nipple extends 1 5/8 inch from the shield. The nipple shape is identical to the NUK 5 but slightly larger. The size makes them ideal for easy stress free sucking all night. They stay in place without effort. You’ll probably find your little one sound asleep with the pacifier firmly in place. Aww, so sweet. Makes you want to kiss a blister on them. The nipple is all silicone and the pacifier body is strong ABS plastic. The picture included below contrasts the orange NUK 3 on the left and the white NUK 5 (Medicpro (L) in the middle, to the new uncolored Baby Pants NUK6.
For use by ages 13 and older.
Please sanitize your new pacifier with warm water and soap.
DO NOT BOIL AS THIS WILL DEFORM THE PLASTIC.”
http://www.baby-pants.com/pacifiers.php
I AM A SHEET SLITTER
I SLIT SHEETS
HOW MANY SHEETS CAN A SHEET SLITTER SLIT?
You try. 3 times. Fast. Out loud.
Now you get it.
Well, I am a tooth grinder. I grind teeth. How many teeth can a tooth grinder grind?
I don’t know when it started, but of course like many, I needed to eventually get a mouth guard. Mouth guards are coverings worn over teeth, and often used to protect teeth from injury from teeth grinding and during sports.
There are three types:
“Stock mouth protectorsare preformed and come ready to wear. They are inexpensive and can be bought at most sporting good stores and department stores. However, little can be done to adjust their fit, they are bulky, make breathing and talking difficult, and they provide little or no protection. Dentists do not recommend their use.
Boil and bite mouth protectors also can be bought at many sporting goods stores and may offer a better fit than stock mouth protectors. The “boil and bite” mouth guard is made from thermoplastic material. It is placed in hot water to soften, then placed in the mouth and shaped around the teeth using finger and tongue pressure.
Custom-fitted mouth protectors are individually designed and made in a dental office or a professional laboratory based on your dentist’s instructions. First, your dentist will make an impression of your teeth and a mouth guard is then molded over the model using a special material. Due to the use of the special material and because of the extra time and work involved, this custom-made mouth guard is more expensive than the other types, but it provides the most comfort and protection.
Generally, mouth guards cover your upper teeth only, but in some instances (such as if you wear braces or another fixed dental appliance on your lower jaw), your dentist will make a mouth guard for the lower teeth as well. Your dentist can suggest the best mouth guard for you. An effective mouth guard should be comfortable, resist tears, be durable and easy to clean, and should not restrict your breathing or speech.
If you grind your teeth at night, a special mouth guard-type of dental appliance — called a nocturnal bite plate or bite splint — may be created to prevent tooth damage.”
(http://www.webmd.com/oral-health/guid...)
I had #3, the custom fit night thingy one. It only covered my front two teeth, just enough to keep my bite open.
Over time – years really – I ground it down until it broke. Now this guard isn’t cheap. Hopefully they kept my mold but if not, I was going to have to pay for that, too. And I didn’t want to have to fork out that kind of money.
So, as usual, I came up with my own grind solution. I bought a baby pacifier. I mean, all I really needed was something between my teeth to keep the grinding at bay. A pacifier is used for soothing and comforting a fussy baby. “Most babies have a strong sucking reflex. Some babies even suck their thumbs or fingers before they’re born. Beyond nutrition, sucking often has a soothing, calming effect” (http://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lif...). I didn’t need it for sucking, of course. I needed it for keeping my mouth open a little so my teeth didn’t touch during the night.
So, I bought one. Still have it. Still use it on occasion. It stays in the top drawer of my bed’s nightstand.
But I just found out about this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Baby Pants Classic Adult pacifiers are larger versions of the ever popular Gerber NUK pacifiers. The shield is approximately 2 5/8 inch wide and 1 7/8 tall. The nipple extends 1 5/8 inch from the shield. The nipple shape is identical to the NUK 5 but slightly larger. The size makes them ideal for easy stress free sucking all night. They stay in place without effort. You’ll probably find your little one sound asleep with the pacifier firmly in place. Aww, so sweet. Makes you want to kiss a blister on them. The nipple is all silicone and the pacifier body is strong ABS plastic. The picture included below contrasts the orange NUK 3 on the left and the white NUK 5 (Medicpro (L) in the middle, to the new uncolored Baby Pants NUK6.
For use by ages 13 and older.
Please sanitize your new pacifier with warm water and soap.
DO NOT BOIL AS THIS WILL DEFORM THE PLASTIC.”
http://www.baby-pants.com/pacifiers.php
January 7, 2017
No Stone Left Unturned
1/7/17
While teaching Gifted middle school students in the 1990’s, I loved the way our school allowed us to meet the needs of these high IQ students. There were several ways the state requirements told us we could administer this service but we had to satisfy 4 ½ hours of Gifted instruction a week.
1. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom 1 hour a day for 5 days.
2. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom for 2 ½ hours a day twice a week.
3. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom 5 hours a day once a week.
(The remaining 2 ½ hours in the school day involved elective classes, i.e.: physical education, consumer science, foreign language, etc.)
We chose the 3rd option. It was GREAT!
We were allowed to teach straight through a day without the disruption of class changes and herding students from one place to another. Sure, we took breaks, changed up the curriculum like they would in their ordinary day, but we weren’t confined to mandatory classroom changes – going from one subject teacher to another. We could spend as much time on a subject as we wanted. If a certain lesson ran over the time we thought it would take, what did it matter? We could adjust.
Since middle grades consisted of 6th, 7th, and 8th grades, depending on the number of students in each grade level, we divided the grades up and then divided the week up to accommodate. We coordinated our lessons into units of Math, English, Social Studies/Geography, and Life Science which might parallel what their regular classroom was studying. We didn’t want to duplicate. We added information to their studies and could work faster since the number of students was smaller.
On a 7th grade day, I taught a lesson from the Life Science curriculum. But because I enjoyed adding humor to most situations, I wanted to really surprise my middle school learners. I dressed it up a bit. And not in a pretty way. I mean in a rather PG-13 rating shocking way. I knew from previous years they loved to be grossed out. I took a good bit of information from THE ALMANAC OF THE GROSS, DISGUSTING & TOTALLY REPULSIVE ~ a compendium of fulsome facts by Eric Elfman. Man, this was stuff I didn’t really want to know and have never kept my toothbrush exposed on my bathroom counter since (“BATHROOM – No doubt the grossest room in the house, the bathroom is constantly being assaulted by dangerous bacteria each time the toilet is flushed. With each flush, a fine mist consisting of billions of water droplets rises into the air. Hundreds of thousands of these droplets contain bacteria from our intestines. These bacteria land on every surface of the bathroom – floors, cabinets, sink, door-knob, even your toothbrush.” Page 46). Cool. But disgusting.
I would inform them about bodily functions as on page 14 – entitled WASTE 101. “It is often said that what goes up must come down. Less often said, but equally true, is what goes in must come out…”
I mentioned to them that in our fluid waste discussion, “The average person loses about five pints of liquid a day, in the following ways:
Urine – 2.5 pints
Perspiration – 1.25 pints
Exhaled moisture from lungs – 1 pint
Feces – (about ¾ of fecal matter is water) – .25 pint.”
After this information, I gave them a demonstration. I had previously poured apple juice into a vile so that they did not know that what they were seeing WAS apple juice. I then asked them to pass it around, which of course there were lots of “EEWWWWs!” But they gladly did so. Especially the boys.
Of course, I eventually let them in on my high jinx, which they had come to expect from me over time.
One year I developed problems from having a gall stone. Actually more than one stone. I researched the situation and tried to avoid surgery as I had already had a caesarian birth and ovarian cyst removal and just didn’t want any more cutting. I schedule several doctors appointments to see if I could avoid going under the knife. I even made an appointment with a Dr. Carter, an urologist in Atlanta, who I had heard invented Shock Wave Lithotripsy (SWL) which is the most common treatment for kidney stones in the U.S. According to
https://www.kidney.org/atoz/content/k..., “Shock waves from outside the body are targeted at a kidney stone causing the stone to fragment. The stones are broken into tiny pieces. lt is sometimes called ESWL: Extracorporeal Shock Wave Lithotripsy®.
These are what the words mean:
• extracorporeal: from outside the body
• shock waves: pressure waves
• lithotripsy (the Greek roots of this word are "litho" meaning stone, "tripsy" meaning crushed)
So, SWL describes a nonsurgical technique for treating stones in the kidney or ureter (the tube going from the kidney to the bladder) using high-energy shock waves. Stones are broken into "stone dust" or fragments that are small enough to pass in urine. lf large pieces remain, another treatment can be performed.”
And I heard you were submerged in a pool to have it done.
I thought if you can get rid of kidney STONES this way, why not GALL stones? Well, after meeting with him, I found that removing gall stones doesn’t work that way. I would have to have surgery.
Luckily for me they had developed a new way to remove gall stones: laparoscopic gallbladder surgery which removes the gallbladder and gallstones through several small incisions in the abdomen.
After it was all over, they asked if I would like to keep the stones. I said yes. They gave me a small glass container to store them in. Now, long story short (too late), this was going to be another life science lesson for 7th graders. I brought out the enclosed glass container with a gall stones.
Not telling them what was in the glass jar, I just mentioned that I had purchased a few rare stones. It cost (I really don’t remember the cost of the operation in 1998 but I would venture to guess it was around $3,000. The national average I read today is for an operation in 2005 and it says that gallbladder removal by laparoscope [without complications or pre-existing conditions] is $19,314. {http://tinyurl.com/jm4yhfp} WOW! I am glad I had mine done in my small town in Georgia). Would they like to see them?
Those poor little 7th graders. A captured audience. What were they supposed to say? Of course they wanted to see my rare stone that I told them I had paid big bucks for. So, I whipped it out. I handed it to the first person on the front row and they proceeded to past it from student to student. While they were examining, I expounded about that they came from a unique place and that they very valuable, that I would never have another one, and I wanted to share it with them so they could get a good look at such rare stones, etc.
The gall stone itself looked like a cocklebur: round but with grey/brown spiky points sticking out. But since they hadn’t seen a STONE like that, they didn’t question. Right at the last of the students to handle the jar, I told them the relationship to the stones and me. That was a great moment, too. Another gross-out!
And of course I always told these gross stories right before we’d break for lunch to make it more effective, timing it right down to the minute the lunch bell rang as they walked and gagged to line up for lunch.
#originalbadteacher #Southernbadgirl #Scarlettwannabe #tricksupmysleeve #teacherstorybookcomingsoon
While teaching Gifted middle school students in the 1990’s, I loved the way our school allowed us to meet the needs of these high IQ students. There were several ways the state requirements told us we could administer this service but we had to satisfy 4 ½ hours of Gifted instruction a week.
1. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom 1 hour a day for 5 days.
2. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom for 2 ½ hours a day twice a week.
3. We could pull-out the students from their regular classroom to visit their government mandated Gifted classroom 5 hours a day once a week.
(The remaining 2 ½ hours in the school day involved elective classes, i.e.: physical education, consumer science, foreign language, etc.)
We chose the 3rd option. It was GREAT!
We were allowed to teach straight through a day without the disruption of class changes and herding students from one place to another. Sure, we took breaks, changed up the curriculum like they would in their ordinary day, but we weren’t confined to mandatory classroom changes – going from one subject teacher to another. We could spend as much time on a subject as we wanted. If a certain lesson ran over the time we thought it would take, what did it matter? We could adjust.
Since middle grades consisted of 6th, 7th, and 8th grades, depending on the number of students in each grade level, we divided the grades up and then divided the week up to accommodate. We coordinated our lessons into units of Math, English, Social Studies/Geography, and Life Science which might parallel what their regular classroom was studying. We didn’t want to duplicate. We added information to their studies and could work faster since the number of students was smaller.
On a 7th grade day, I taught a lesson from the Life Science curriculum. But because I enjoyed adding humor to most situations, I wanted to really surprise my middle school learners. I dressed it up a bit. And not in a pretty way. I mean in a rather PG-13 rating shocking way. I knew from previous years they loved to be grossed out. I took a good bit of information from THE ALMANAC OF THE GROSS, DISGUSTING & TOTALLY REPULSIVE ~ a compendium of fulsome facts by Eric Elfman. Man, this was stuff I didn’t really want to know and have never kept my toothbrush exposed on my bathroom counter since (“BATHROOM – No doubt the grossest room in the house, the bathroom is constantly being assaulted by dangerous bacteria each time the toilet is flushed. With each flush, a fine mist consisting of billions of water droplets rises into the air. Hundreds of thousands of these droplets contain bacteria from our intestines. These bacteria land on every surface of the bathroom – floors, cabinets, sink, door-knob, even your toothbrush.” Page 46). Cool. But disgusting.
I would inform them about bodily functions as on page 14 – entitled WASTE 101. “It is often said that what goes up must come down. Less often said, but equally true, is what goes in must come out…”
I mentioned to them that in our fluid waste discussion, “The average person loses about five pints of liquid a day, in the following ways:
Urine – 2.5 pints
Perspiration – 1.25 pints
Exhaled moisture from lungs – 1 pint
Feces – (about ¾ of fecal matter is water) – .25 pint.”
After this information, I gave them a demonstration. I had previously poured apple juice into a vile so that they did not know that what they were seeing WAS apple juice. I then asked them to pass it around, which of course there were lots of “EEWWWWs!” But they gladly did so. Especially the boys.
Of course, I eventually let them in on my high jinx, which they had come to expect from me over time.
One year I developed problems from having a gall stone. Actually more than one stone. I researched the situation and tried to avoid surgery as I had already had a caesarian birth and ovarian cyst removal and just didn’t want any more cutting. I schedule several doctors appointments to see if I could avoid going under the knife. I even made an appointment with a Dr. Carter, an urologist in Atlanta, who I had heard invented Shock Wave Lithotripsy (SWL) which is the most common treatment for kidney stones in the U.S. According to
https://www.kidney.org/atoz/content/k..., “Shock waves from outside the body are targeted at a kidney stone causing the stone to fragment. The stones are broken into tiny pieces. lt is sometimes called ESWL: Extracorporeal Shock Wave Lithotripsy®.
These are what the words mean:
• extracorporeal: from outside the body
• shock waves: pressure waves
• lithotripsy (the Greek roots of this word are "litho" meaning stone, "tripsy" meaning crushed)
So, SWL describes a nonsurgical technique for treating stones in the kidney or ureter (the tube going from the kidney to the bladder) using high-energy shock waves. Stones are broken into "stone dust" or fragments that are small enough to pass in urine. lf large pieces remain, another treatment can be performed.”
And I heard you were submerged in a pool to have it done.
I thought if you can get rid of kidney STONES this way, why not GALL stones? Well, after meeting with him, I found that removing gall stones doesn’t work that way. I would have to have surgery.
Luckily for me they had developed a new way to remove gall stones: laparoscopic gallbladder surgery which removes the gallbladder and gallstones through several small incisions in the abdomen.
After it was all over, they asked if I would like to keep the stones. I said yes. They gave me a small glass container to store them in. Now, long story short (too late), this was going to be another life science lesson for 7th graders. I brought out the enclosed glass container with a gall stones.
Not telling them what was in the glass jar, I just mentioned that I had purchased a few rare stones. It cost (I really don’t remember the cost of the operation in 1998 but I would venture to guess it was around $3,000. The national average I read today is for an operation in 2005 and it says that gallbladder removal by laparoscope [without complications or pre-existing conditions] is $19,314. {http://tinyurl.com/jm4yhfp} WOW! I am glad I had mine done in my small town in Georgia). Would they like to see them?
Those poor little 7th graders. A captured audience. What were they supposed to say? Of course they wanted to see my rare stone that I told them I had paid big bucks for. So, I whipped it out. I handed it to the first person on the front row and they proceeded to past it from student to student. While they were examining, I expounded about that they came from a unique place and that they very valuable, that I would never have another one, and I wanted to share it with them so they could get a good look at such rare stones, etc.
The gall stone itself looked like a cocklebur: round but with grey/brown spiky points sticking out. But since they hadn’t seen a STONE like that, they didn’t question. Right at the last of the students to handle the jar, I told them the relationship to the stones and me. That was a great moment, too. Another gross-out!
And of course I always told these gross stories right before we’d break for lunch to make it more effective, timing it right down to the minute the lunch bell rang as they walked and gagged to line up for lunch.
#originalbadteacher #Southernbadgirl #Scarlettwannabe #tricksupmysleeve #teacherstorybookcomingsoon
December 29, 2016
I Don't Want To Grow Up, I'm a Toys R Us Kid
After the loss of 22 pounds in 6 months because of not providing my body with alcohol calories, I wondered if I am still fun. Remember the alcohol loosened me up for mayhem behavior. Whatever I thought to do, there was no filter in my actions because of those uninhibited elixers. But I am glad to report, I've still got it. Here's the latest:
Shopping on the LAST SATURDAY before Christmas weekend, my Younger Teacher Friend asked me to go with her to Atlanta. Because she had just gotten out of school for the school break, she was behind on her shopping and had to get some things done. I wouldn't think anyone would really want to go buy Christmas presents on one of the last Saturdays in Atlanta if they didn't have to. But she had to and she asked me to tag along.
As a retiree, I didn't have to go. Not only were my presents bought, but they were already distributed to the recipients (and opened, I might add). But that happens a lot in retirement. Hey! Don't be thinking you wish you could have this much time to be done with these responsibilities. Remember - retirement is for OLD people. If you are younger than retirement age, don't wish it away.
I mostly went to be with her, of course, but also to see the malls decorated because she was going to a couple of them. I hadn't been in a MALL in years. I tend to shop in the stand alone businesses. So, getting out and visiting the pretty sights, even with all the humanity, which I was going to try and ignore (yeah, right) was going to be entertaining. And she was driving in that Atlanta traffic. I wasn't in charge of anything. I was along for the ride.
We started early and arrived home after dark. She was on a mission and I don't blame her. Her job was to "getter done." I have recently had a bit of plantar fasciitis. I knew I might need to sit down on our walking/shopping excursion to keep it at bay. And I did. So it wasn't so much the standing and walking as it was the length of the all day mission trip. But I signed up for it.
Late in the day I was starting to be worn slap out. By that I mean standing in long lines and ticking of the minutes before it was our turn to make a purchase, especially at Bath And Body Works in Perimeter Mall.
Young Teacher Friend needed SEVERAL items as gifts. She is such a girlie girl, even if she has a household of testosterone. There were 3 lines and the wait looked unbearable. But instead of both of us in line, I suggested she shop while I hold her place for her. The lines barely moved. They must have hired a bunch of new people for Christmas to run the register. It didn't look like they had the ringing-up merchandise rhythm down yet.
So, while waiting, I, of course, started talking to others in line to pass the time. Time stood still just like the lines and I tried to make the best of it. I didn't mind holding her place, it would have been worse to shop and get in line LATER. She soon joined me and we still had a ways to go. It's like "hurry up to slow down." You know the feeling. Anyway, we both were chatting away with our fellow linemen (and women) when I started to be come giddy. When I get bored, watch out!
I started using my "outside" voice. That's what we called it when I taught pre-school. We had "inside" voices and "outside" voices. With my "outside" voice I was taking command. I talked loudly so others could hear me say, "Did everyone get their number?" "You need a number to be called to purchase your gift." or "Don't forget to get your number before you get in line (and you know tons were already IN line)". Then I started calling OUT numbers: "Number 26." , "Number 79", etc. That was really fun to watch their faces then. Because it was so crowded, only those around me knew the source of this outlandishness and giggled...or were amusingly horrified ( I knew they were because of the expression on their faces). THEN, getting closer to our destination, I continued and said, "After your purchase, be sure and get your ticket stub stamped for free parking." That was the last thing I remember saying as we walked out of the store. And I said it several times to get a reaction to amuse myself with my trickery.
Thank goodness my Young Teacher Friend did not mind and laughed along as we left the store. My PARTNER-IN-CRIME from my younger days (as mentioned in my books) would have done the same, THEN. But today when I act goofy while visiting her in Atlanta she shames me. She has grown up now, I guess. She says, "You can't act like that up here." What? I am supposed to pretend I am mature?
So, thank goodness for my younger set of friends. They take me as I am...and that is that I am growing old, but I'll never grow up.
Shopping on the LAST SATURDAY before Christmas weekend, my Younger Teacher Friend asked me to go with her to Atlanta. Because she had just gotten out of school for the school break, she was behind on her shopping and had to get some things done. I wouldn't think anyone would really want to go buy Christmas presents on one of the last Saturdays in Atlanta if they didn't have to. But she had to and she asked me to tag along.
As a retiree, I didn't have to go. Not only were my presents bought, but they were already distributed to the recipients (and opened, I might add). But that happens a lot in retirement. Hey! Don't be thinking you wish you could have this much time to be done with these responsibilities. Remember - retirement is for OLD people. If you are younger than retirement age, don't wish it away.
I mostly went to be with her, of course, but also to see the malls decorated because she was going to a couple of them. I hadn't been in a MALL in years. I tend to shop in the stand alone businesses. So, getting out and visiting the pretty sights, even with all the humanity, which I was going to try and ignore (yeah, right) was going to be entertaining. And she was driving in that Atlanta traffic. I wasn't in charge of anything. I was along for the ride.
We started early and arrived home after dark. She was on a mission and I don't blame her. Her job was to "getter done." I have recently had a bit of plantar fasciitis. I knew I might need to sit down on our walking/shopping excursion to keep it at bay. And I did. So it wasn't so much the standing and walking as it was the length of the all day mission trip. But I signed up for it.
Late in the day I was starting to be worn slap out. By that I mean standing in long lines and ticking of the minutes before it was our turn to make a purchase, especially at Bath And Body Works in Perimeter Mall.
Young Teacher Friend needed SEVERAL items as gifts. She is such a girlie girl, even if she has a household of testosterone. There were 3 lines and the wait looked unbearable. But instead of both of us in line, I suggested she shop while I hold her place for her. The lines barely moved. They must have hired a bunch of new people for Christmas to run the register. It didn't look like they had the ringing-up merchandise rhythm down yet.
So, while waiting, I, of course, started talking to others in line to pass the time. Time stood still just like the lines and I tried to make the best of it. I didn't mind holding her place, it would have been worse to shop and get in line LATER. She soon joined me and we still had a ways to go. It's like "hurry up to slow down." You know the feeling. Anyway, we both were chatting away with our fellow linemen (and women) when I started to be come giddy. When I get bored, watch out!
I started using my "outside" voice. That's what we called it when I taught pre-school. We had "inside" voices and "outside" voices. With my "outside" voice I was taking command. I talked loudly so others could hear me say, "Did everyone get their number?" "You need a number to be called to purchase your gift." or "Don't forget to get your number before you get in line (and you know tons were already IN line)". Then I started calling OUT numbers: "Number 26." , "Number 79", etc. That was really fun to watch their faces then. Because it was so crowded, only those around me knew the source of this outlandishness and giggled...or were amusingly horrified ( I knew they were because of the expression on their faces). THEN, getting closer to our destination, I continued and said, "After your purchase, be sure and get your ticket stub stamped for free parking." That was the last thing I remember saying as we walked out of the store. And I said it several times to get a reaction to amuse myself with my trickery.
Thank goodness my Young Teacher Friend did not mind and laughed along as we left the store. My PARTNER-IN-CRIME from my younger days (as mentioned in my books) would have done the same, THEN. But today when I act goofy while visiting her in Atlanta she shames me. She has grown up now, I guess. She says, "You can't act like that up here." What? I am supposed to pretend I am mature?
So, thank goodness for my younger set of friends. They take me as I am...and that is that I am growing old, but I'll never grow up.
December 15, 2016
You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry
December, 2016
When my oldest was five years old (THE HEIR), I decided to make his Christmas really special. You know how we, as mothers. made home-made cookies and left them on a Christmas designed plate with a glass of milk and maybe a carrot for Rudolf? Well, been there, done that. This year was different.
When we tucked him in and he fell asleep, I pulled out from the closet my husband's L.L. Bean boots and several of the largest size baking soda boxes that I had hidden after previously purchasing from the grocery store.
I laid down a boot on the rug, poured baking soda around the perimeter, lifted the boot, placed the matching boot a step ahead, and again poured the baking soda. After several times, it looked as if Santa had sloughed off snow on his way from our fireplace to the Christmas tree and laid out his presents.
The fireplace stood empty because we didn't use it. We had a red enamel wood burning stove. When the logs were burning, the stove lit up a beautiful Christmas red and then became part of the room's holiday decor.
Christmas morning came and THE HEIR jumped out of bed, ran into the living room, and saw all the presents and Santa's footsteps! Overjoyed, his eyes widened! Santa came! He looked so cute in his Stewart plaid red pajamas with red piping on the collar and long sleeves and also wearing his solid navy blue housecoat. He wore no house shoes, just those sweet bare feet which ran down the hall.
Our usual festivities of opening all the presents ensued and then friends and family popped over to see what THE HEIR received. He bragged about Santa's footsteps on the rug. And as the days wore on and more people dropped by, Santa's footprints were still on the rug. He continued to show them off.
Nailed it.
When THE SPARE (our second son) turned five, I remembered how THE HEIR received such joy from my creativity that I tried to pull this same trick.
We did the same thing again. But our savvy second son in his cotton long-sleeved blue dinosaur pajamas, just looked at the situation and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Why hasn't it melted?"
Didn't think he'd catch that.
Theme: THE JOKE'S ON YOU
Title: "You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry..."
Found in Closet: 1990 - L.L. Bean Boots
~from SHE'S A KEEPER! Confessions from a Southern Girl's Closet
When my oldest was five years old (THE HEIR), I decided to make his Christmas really special. You know how we, as mothers. made home-made cookies and left them on a Christmas designed plate with a glass of milk and maybe a carrot for Rudolf? Well, been there, done that. This year was different.
When we tucked him in and he fell asleep, I pulled out from the closet my husband's L.L. Bean boots and several of the largest size baking soda boxes that I had hidden after previously purchasing from the grocery store.
I laid down a boot on the rug, poured baking soda around the perimeter, lifted the boot, placed the matching boot a step ahead, and again poured the baking soda. After several times, it looked as if Santa had sloughed off snow on his way from our fireplace to the Christmas tree and laid out his presents.
The fireplace stood empty because we didn't use it. We had a red enamel wood burning stove. When the logs were burning, the stove lit up a beautiful Christmas red and then became part of the room's holiday decor.
Christmas morning came and THE HEIR jumped out of bed, ran into the living room, and saw all the presents and Santa's footsteps! Overjoyed, his eyes widened! Santa came! He looked so cute in his Stewart plaid red pajamas with red piping on the collar and long sleeves and also wearing his solid navy blue housecoat. He wore no house shoes, just those sweet bare feet which ran down the hall.
Our usual festivities of opening all the presents ensued and then friends and family popped over to see what THE HEIR received. He bragged about Santa's footsteps on the rug. And as the days wore on and more people dropped by, Santa's footprints were still on the rug. He continued to show them off.
Nailed it.
When THE SPARE (our second son) turned five, I remembered how THE HEIR received such joy from my creativity that I tried to pull this same trick.
We did the same thing again. But our savvy second son in his cotton long-sleeved blue dinosaur pajamas, just looked at the situation and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Why hasn't it melted?"
Didn't think he'd catch that.
Theme: THE JOKE'S ON YOU
Title: "You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry..."
Found in Closet: 1990 - L.L. Bean Boots
~from SHE'S A KEEPER! Confessions from a Southern Girl's Closet
September 26, 2016
MUST SEE-TV!
September 26, 2016. Are you ready for tonight's presidential debates? How are we going to stand it? But it is MUST-SEE TV!
I thought of a way to make it more tolerable. I am going to turn it into a game. I first learned about this game years ago when one could catch reruns of THE BOB NEWHART SHOW in the afternoons. TV Land channel? I don't know. And this could be an urban legend but the story goes that some frat boys were sitting around their fraternity house in the afternoons between classes at the time Newhart's reruns were on. If you remember this 1970's show (which I do because of the line up of comedy I watched every chance I could - Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart, and then Carol Burnett on Saturday nights), Emily Hartley, Bob's wife on the show played by the lovely Suzanne Pleshette, when speaking to her husband, seemed to always say his name in conversation. For instance, "Where are you going, Bob?" "What do you want for dinner, Bob?" "Did you have coffee this morning already, Bob?" "Why do I always say Bob, Bob?"
So, when she spoke his name, the boys who were drinking their beer in the social area of the house where the TV was, took a gulp. Drinking beer during the week in the afternoon? You're not surprised are you, Bob? So, every day at the same time when the show came on and Emily said "Bob" in her conversation, beer was consumed.
So, I decided to tweak it. My editor and neighborhood friend, Miss Scarlett, started coming to my house around season 20 of THE BACHELOR so that we could watch it together instead of just talking about it afterwards. For years I called my friend, SWOOZIE, who lived in another town, while the show was on. But we only talked during commercials so as not to miss a thing on the "reality" show. Now with Miss Scarlett over at my house, we could talk or not while the action was taking place. We decided to play the "Bob Newhart" game. If you've ever seen THE BACHELOR, you know it's not real reality-tv. It's scripted also. One way to tell is they, too, use the same verbiage over and over. Example dialogue in EVERY SEASON: "She's not here for the right reasons." "It hurts my heart to see him falling for her." "My date was AMAZING!" "I think we have a CONNECTION!" Those last two were really good if you wanted to get hammered.
And we must have wanted to get snockered because once we ended up slobbering syllables from Peach Bellinis that I made. We had 3 each, I hate to admit. Recipe below.
So, tonight. Let's play, want to? I know that Trump doesn't drink. His revered older brother was an alcoholic and died so he stays away from the stuff. What does Hillary drink? I found this: "...She likes to get her drink on. Hanging out in Cartagena in 2012 with her staff at the Summit of the Americas, then-Secretary of State Clinton was photographed with her hair down and a drink in her hand. Hillary apparently outdrank Sen. John McCain (R-AZ) when they were touring Estonia in 2004. According to a witness, 'Hillary won. She stayed correct after four shots.' Terry McAuliffe, new governor of Virginia and Clinton ally, said, 'She loves to sit, throw ’em back…She’s a girl from Illinois who likes to throw ’em down with the rest of us.' ”
(http://www.breitbart.com/big-governme... )
So, tonight - shots it is. The article didn't say what liquor was in her glass, so you have your choice.
What are we drinking to? Let me give you some help:
Trump: crooked, liar, show us your health physical report, not qualified
Clinton: show us your tax reports, not qualified, doesn't have temperament, racist
Take your pick. Aw, find your own repetitive comment. Aw, hell, just drink the entire time.
Just think: BOB!
Peach Bellini recipe:
Ingredients:
2 oz peach nectar
1 tspfresh lemon juice
1 oz peach schnapps
3 ozchilled, dry Champagne
1/2 cup crushed ice
Mix the peach nectar, lemon juice and schnapps in a chilled glass. Add half a cup (or more) of crushed ice, stir, and add the champagne. (Serves 2).
I thought of a way to make it more tolerable. I am going to turn it into a game. I first learned about this game years ago when one could catch reruns of THE BOB NEWHART SHOW in the afternoons. TV Land channel? I don't know. And this could be an urban legend but the story goes that some frat boys were sitting around their fraternity house in the afternoons between classes at the time Newhart's reruns were on. If you remember this 1970's show (which I do because of the line up of comedy I watched every chance I could - Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart, and then Carol Burnett on Saturday nights), Emily Hartley, Bob's wife on the show played by the lovely Suzanne Pleshette, when speaking to her husband, seemed to always say his name in conversation. For instance, "Where are you going, Bob?" "What do you want for dinner, Bob?" "Did you have coffee this morning already, Bob?" "Why do I always say Bob, Bob?"
So, when she spoke his name, the boys who were drinking their beer in the social area of the house where the TV was, took a gulp. Drinking beer during the week in the afternoon? You're not surprised are you, Bob? So, every day at the same time when the show came on and Emily said "Bob" in her conversation, beer was consumed.
So, I decided to tweak it. My editor and neighborhood friend, Miss Scarlett, started coming to my house around season 20 of THE BACHELOR so that we could watch it together instead of just talking about it afterwards. For years I called my friend, SWOOZIE, who lived in another town, while the show was on. But we only talked during commercials so as not to miss a thing on the "reality" show. Now with Miss Scarlett over at my house, we could talk or not while the action was taking place. We decided to play the "Bob Newhart" game. If you've ever seen THE BACHELOR, you know it's not real reality-tv. It's scripted also. One way to tell is they, too, use the same verbiage over and over. Example dialogue in EVERY SEASON: "She's not here for the right reasons." "It hurts my heart to see him falling for her." "My date was AMAZING!" "I think we have a CONNECTION!" Those last two were really good if you wanted to get hammered.
And we must have wanted to get snockered because once we ended up slobbering syllables from Peach Bellinis that I made. We had 3 each, I hate to admit. Recipe below.
So, tonight. Let's play, want to? I know that Trump doesn't drink. His revered older brother was an alcoholic and died so he stays away from the stuff. What does Hillary drink? I found this: "...She likes to get her drink on. Hanging out in Cartagena in 2012 with her staff at the Summit of the Americas, then-Secretary of State Clinton was photographed with her hair down and a drink in her hand. Hillary apparently outdrank Sen. John McCain (R-AZ) when they were touring Estonia in 2004. According to a witness, 'Hillary won. She stayed correct after four shots.' Terry McAuliffe, new governor of Virginia and Clinton ally, said, 'She loves to sit, throw ’em back…She’s a girl from Illinois who likes to throw ’em down with the rest of us.' ”
(http://www.breitbart.com/big-governme... )
So, tonight - shots it is. The article didn't say what liquor was in her glass, so you have your choice.
What are we drinking to? Let me give you some help:
Trump: crooked, liar, show us your health physical report, not qualified
Clinton: show us your tax reports, not qualified, doesn't have temperament, racist
Take your pick. Aw, find your own repetitive comment. Aw, hell, just drink the entire time.
Just think: BOB!
Peach Bellini recipe:
Ingredients:
2 oz peach nectar
1 tspfresh lemon juice
1 oz peach schnapps
3 ozchilled, dry Champagne
1/2 cup crushed ice
Mix the peach nectar, lemon juice and schnapps in a chilled glass. Add half a cup (or more) of crushed ice, stir, and add the champagne. (Serves 2).
September 23, 2016
When in Rome...
September 23, 2016 -
Recently, Hubby and I decided to take an excursion for a few days. We headed South. Even MORE South.
I went to many colleges for varying degrees and studies. I landed at Middle Georgia College for my 13th year of high school. I wasn’t ready for college and my high school grades proved it. After seasoning up, I studied Communications and graduated (where I made Dean’s List, BTW) from Georgia Southern University. After working in an advertising agency in Atlanta, I chose to change my focus to education and landed in graduate school in English at Georgia State University and English Education at the University of Georgia.
So, see? When you count my childhood and now as an old married woman, I’ve lived in the east side of the state, the west side, middle Georgia, South Georgia, Urban Atlanta, and North Georgia. I count myself as somewhat of an expert of ALL THINGS SOUTHERN.
I was in a sorority in college. By being in one, you receive their national sorority publication. Ours is called THE ANGELOS, because I am a Kappa Delta. Every sorority I know has one. Since my 1975 undergraduate graduation, I have received this national quarterly magazine (that’s 4 x’s 41) . There are several interesting sections regarding my sorority sisters. We have sections that recognize outstanding women in various fields: leadership, philanthropy, popularity, GPA’s, beauty, civic involvement, and athletics, just to name a few. This publication places pictures of these women next to their written achievements.
Since 1975 I have played a game with myself when my magazine arrives. I used to be pretty good at it. I guess I could call it FIND THE SOUTHERN BELLE. Before I read one LINE of comments about the pictured girl, I’d cover the information with my hand and try to guess WHERE this outstanding woman attended school. And over 41 years I had a pretty good track record of guessing the geographical location of the school she attended. Was it Northern, Southern, West Coast, New England? IMO, the United States and its women had a distinct look by location.
Did the sorority gal have the sunny beachy California look in 1975? What about New England and their prep school wool sweaters?
But between New England cold and the harsh upper North winters, that choice could be a hard one. It was never hard to pin point a Southern girl. The hair. The clothes. And mostly the beauty queen smile (and crowns). Oh, and don’t forget the peachy complexion – from the humidity we get here. BTW – a Kappa Delta (Debbie Maffett Wilson) was 1983’s Miss America!
Today, it’s harder. Since we are such a melting pot, I’ve gone from about 77% accuracy to the low 30%. I can’t tell any more. Yes, I am 63 and still playing that game. Silly. And I should quit. I am not getting any better.
But while on our mini vacation, my husband and I visited Paula Deen’s LADY AND SONS Restaurant in Savannah. What a beautiful city. And what a mixture of tourists! The servers bring over homemade (Paula Deen style) cornbread fritters and biscuits to munch on while cooking your order. Suits me. I love cornbread. May I have some more buttah, please?
Perusing the clientele of the restaurant to see if I thought there were many out-of-towners having lunch there, I noticed a group of women looking hesitant about their bread choices. I watched and sure enough there they were, using a knife and fork for their hand held fritter. My guess was, “They are from out of state.” I wanted so badly to ask them where they were from. Hubby wasn’t sure I should interrupt but I had to find out if my instincts were correct. At the end of our meal and before theirs arrived (Hubby skidaddled out of there while I sided up to them), I posed the question. Sure enough, their answers were Ohio and Colorado.
And then they wondered WHY I had asked. I explained my observation. They graciously didn’t seem to mind my question or possible intrusion. One lady said, “Fritter? Our server called it a hoecake. We didn’t know what that was but it sounded like we should put syrup on it, so we did.”
OMGosh! Even worse! No wonder they had to use a knife and fork.
P.S. I don’t even want to know that you had to look up what a fritter or hoecake looks like.
Recently, Hubby and I decided to take an excursion for a few days. We headed South. Even MORE South.
I went to many colleges for varying degrees and studies. I landed at Middle Georgia College for my 13th year of high school. I wasn’t ready for college and my high school grades proved it. After seasoning up, I studied Communications and graduated (where I made Dean’s List, BTW) from Georgia Southern University. After working in an advertising agency in Atlanta, I chose to change my focus to education and landed in graduate school in English at Georgia State University and English Education at the University of Georgia.
So, see? When you count my childhood and now as an old married woman, I’ve lived in the east side of the state, the west side, middle Georgia, South Georgia, Urban Atlanta, and North Georgia. I count myself as somewhat of an expert of ALL THINGS SOUTHERN.
I was in a sorority in college. By being in one, you receive their national sorority publication. Ours is called THE ANGELOS, because I am a Kappa Delta. Every sorority I know has one. Since my 1975 undergraduate graduation, I have received this national quarterly magazine (that’s 4 x’s 41) . There are several interesting sections regarding my sorority sisters. We have sections that recognize outstanding women in various fields: leadership, philanthropy, popularity, GPA’s, beauty, civic involvement, and athletics, just to name a few. This publication places pictures of these women next to their written achievements.
Since 1975 I have played a game with myself when my magazine arrives. I used to be pretty good at it. I guess I could call it FIND THE SOUTHERN BELLE. Before I read one LINE of comments about the pictured girl, I’d cover the information with my hand and try to guess WHERE this outstanding woman attended school. And over 41 years I had a pretty good track record of guessing the geographical location of the school she attended. Was it Northern, Southern, West Coast, New England? IMO, the United States and its women had a distinct look by location.
Did the sorority gal have the sunny beachy California look in 1975? What about New England and their prep school wool sweaters?
But between New England cold and the harsh upper North winters, that choice could be a hard one. It was never hard to pin point a Southern girl. The hair. The clothes. And mostly the beauty queen smile (and crowns). Oh, and don’t forget the peachy complexion – from the humidity we get here. BTW – a Kappa Delta (Debbie Maffett Wilson) was 1983’s Miss America!
Today, it’s harder. Since we are such a melting pot, I’ve gone from about 77% accuracy to the low 30%. I can’t tell any more. Yes, I am 63 and still playing that game. Silly. And I should quit. I am not getting any better.
But while on our mini vacation, my husband and I visited Paula Deen’s LADY AND SONS Restaurant in Savannah. What a beautiful city. And what a mixture of tourists! The servers bring over homemade (Paula Deen style) cornbread fritters and biscuits to munch on while cooking your order. Suits me. I love cornbread. May I have some more buttah, please?
Perusing the clientele of the restaurant to see if I thought there were many out-of-towners having lunch there, I noticed a group of women looking hesitant about their bread choices. I watched and sure enough there they were, using a knife and fork for their hand held fritter. My guess was, “They are from out of state.” I wanted so badly to ask them where they were from. Hubby wasn’t sure I should interrupt but I had to find out if my instincts were correct. At the end of our meal and before theirs arrived (Hubby skidaddled out of there while I sided up to them), I posed the question. Sure enough, their answers were Ohio and Colorado.
And then they wondered WHY I had asked. I explained my observation. They graciously didn’t seem to mind my question or possible intrusion. One lady said, “Fritter? Our server called it a hoecake. We didn’t know what that was but it sounded like we should put syrup on it, so we did.”
OMGosh! Even worse! No wonder they had to use a knife and fork.
P.S. I don’t even want to know that you had to look up what a fritter or hoecake looks like.
September 9, 2016
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
September 9, 2016
This is just unbelievable. When they say, “Great minds think alike”, I am happy to be in the company of these women.
It’s college football season. Time for tailgating with friends and cheering on your favorite team donned in all the university’s regalia. We hosted long time friends to our lake house near Auburn where the Tigers were hosting the Clemson Tigers. And there was a lot of orange involved.
Our friends used to live about 7 hours away from where HUBBY and I live. They have since moved and now it’s only around 4 hours. We were “meeting in the middle”, so to speak and I couldn’t wait to laugh along with the wife who I had known since dating HUBBY days. Her husband is a fraternity brother of HUBBY’s and was in our wedding. We have known them a long time.
I should have remembered they did like seafood but to be on the safe side, I called to see if they did. I wanted to make a jambalaya for a meal while they were our guests. I just felt like having this although it wasn’t really cold weather for a stew. My thinking was, “It will be something different that I bet they haven’t had in a while.” And that was true. They were happy to know I was going to serve it.
I prepared it a few days before their arrival which was Friday afternoon. There was going to be a spread of food at another frat brother’s house Friday night that we were all invited to and also on Saturday night there was a catered affair for tons of folks. I would serve the stew Saturday for lunch.
I was very happy with the way my recipe turned out. How could it not be good with 3 pounds of shrimp in it that I painstakingly shelled and deveined?
Here is the recipe:
Easy Jambalaya Recipe
Prep time – 20 minutes. Cook time – 45 minutes. Total time – 1 hour and 5 minutes.
Serves: 4-6 servings
Ingredients
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into cubes
3 lbs.frozen shrimp
4 sausages (andouille sausage is most common, but use whatever you like!), sliced
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 green peppers, chopped
3 celery stalks, sliced
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes
3 bay leaves
1 tsp. Worcestershire
1 cup uncooked rice
3 cups chicken broth
1 tsp. cayenne
½ tsp. paprika
½ tsp. dried oregano
½ tsp. ground thyme
as much frozen okra as desired
INSTRUCTIONS
In a large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, peppers, celery, and garlic. Cook for a couple of minutes, or until veggies begin to sweat. Add the chicken and sausage, stirring frequently, using more olive oil if necessary. Cook until meat is browned and chicken is no longer pink. Season with salt, pepper, cayenne, paprika, oregano, and thyme. Cook for 1 more minute.
Stir in tomatoes, broth, Worcestershire, okra, and bay leaves. Bring to a boil and add rice. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 20-30 minutes, or until rice is cooked through. Add more broth if necessary, but if you stir often enough, there should be no worries of burning or sticking.
When the rice is almost cooked, stir in the frozen shrimp. Cook until heated through.
Serve!
With tailgate food at the two couples houses, how could my dish not be considered a rare treat? Well, I was about to get a total shock.
We landed at the Friday night affair. While standing around in the kitchen (like every one does) drinking and talking, the dinner was being prepared in a gigantic pot. When the hostess opened the lid I just about freaked. There was her version of jambalaya. Oh, my poor guests! There were going to now have that same meal two times in a weekend and in less then 16 hours. The meal is wonderful but to offer it twice? What could I do about it? I hadn’t brought anything else to offer them for lunch the next day. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to only have it TWICE in a weekend.
Here is her recipe:
INGREDIENTS
1 lb. shrimp
1 lb. kielbasa, sliced into 1″ rounds
1 can beef consomme soup
1 can French onion soup
1 can Rotel, original
1 stick butter, cut into pieces
2 Bay leaves
1 bunch spring onions, chopped
1&1/2 cups Uncle Bens rice, uncooked
Mix altogether except for the shrimp. Bring to a boil and simmer until rice is done. I usually cook about 45 minutes and then add the shrimp just before serving.
After her wonderful – and I do mean wonderful – dinner (doesn’t it always taste better when someone else prepares the meal?) I decided to let her in on my quandary. How funny, we both thought. I am so glad she had a sense of humor about it all. Such a coincidence! By Saturday’s lunch, I was feeling OK about not having jambalaya myself for lunch since I had just had it the night before. I did prepare it for my guests, though. I cooked a satisfying breakfast and thought when we arrived at the next party, I would find something else to eat besides Cajun food.
When we arrived, the chafing dishes were set out in her kitchen and we could see our host and hostess had decided to cater their party. The hostess from the night before was there and as I was standing across the kitchen counter where the food was laid out, I watched her open the lid to see what meal was prepared for all of us. Then I saw the reaction of almost HORROR and afterwards a laugh on her face and I knew exactly what she had found and how she felt about it. That’s right: jambalaya! AGAIN! My poor guests were ONLY having this Creole delight for the entire weekend, except for the breakfasts I would be serving. These coincidences were just hilarious and of course we had to let THIS hostess in on the joke.
I spoke to the caterer and this was their recipe:
NEW ORLEANS JAMBALAYA WITH SHRIMP AND SAUSAGE
Serves: 8-10 servings
INGREDIENTS
ROUX:
½ cup high heat oil, such as canola, corn, or vegetable
½ cup all purpose flour
GUMBO:
1 medium onion, diced
2 bell peppers (I used ½ of each red, green, yellow, orange – see note), diced
3 stalks celery, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
3 bay leaves
8 ounces andouille sausage, sliced (I used Tofurky)
2 tablespoons EACH: cajun seasoning AND tabasco sauce (more or less to taste)
1 tablespoon cayenne (omit if you want it mild)
4 cups low sodium chicken broth
1 (14.5 ounce can) stewed tomatoes and juices, roughly diced
1 ½ pounds raw shrimp
2 teaspoons gumbo filé
sliced scallions + white rice or quinoa, for serving
INSTRUCTIONS
ROUX: Heat the oil in a large dutch oven or a heavy bottom pot over medium-high heat. Whisk in the flour until combined and smooth. Switch to a wooden spoon and continuously stir for 15-22 minutes or until the roux darkens to just past a deep peanut butter color. Do not let the roux burn! (if you smell it burning, you will need to throw is out, clean the pot, and start over, unfortunately there’s just no saving burnt roux!)
Once the roux reaches that deep rich brown color, stir in the onions, bell peppers, and celery and continue to cook, stirring as needed so the vegetables don’t stick. About 8-10 minutes or until the veggies soften. Add the garlic, andouille sausage (if using tofurky, do not add yet), and bay leaves. Continue to cook for an additional 1-2 minutes until the garlic is nice and fragrant.
Add the cajun seasoning, tabasco sauce, and cayenne along with the chicken broth and stewed tomatoes and bring to a high simmer before lowering the heat to medium-low, covering and simmering for 15-20 minutes.
IF USING TOFURKY: add a teaspoon of oil to a skillet over medium high heat. Add the slices and cook for a quick 90 seconds (turning half way) just to sear the outside before adding to the gumbo.
Add the shrimp and tofurky (if using) to the gumbo, give it a stir and allow to continue to simmer for an additional 10 -15 minutes or until the shrimp is opaque and the veggies have softened. Taste and season with salt and pepper as desired. Add the gumbo filé and stir. Remove bay leaves before serving.
TO SERVE: Serve warm with white rice or quinoa with sliced scallions on top.
Delicious!
Before bed, I checked my Twitter and since I receive Southern Living Magazine tweets, it was important that very night they send out to their readers several great recipes that would feed a large crowd for any upcoming football games. The variety of recipes were for the same meal and what did I NEED to know for future reference? What do YOU think?
Here are Southern Living Magazine’s Recipes:
http://www.southernliving.com/food/en... Seafood Jambalaya
I have no words.
This is just unbelievable. When they say, “Great minds think alike”, I am happy to be in the company of these women.
It’s college football season. Time for tailgating with friends and cheering on your favorite team donned in all the university’s regalia. We hosted long time friends to our lake house near Auburn where the Tigers were hosting the Clemson Tigers. And there was a lot of orange involved.
Our friends used to live about 7 hours away from where HUBBY and I live. They have since moved and now it’s only around 4 hours. We were “meeting in the middle”, so to speak and I couldn’t wait to laugh along with the wife who I had known since dating HUBBY days. Her husband is a fraternity brother of HUBBY’s and was in our wedding. We have known them a long time.
I should have remembered they did like seafood but to be on the safe side, I called to see if they did. I wanted to make a jambalaya for a meal while they were our guests. I just felt like having this although it wasn’t really cold weather for a stew. My thinking was, “It will be something different that I bet they haven’t had in a while.” And that was true. They were happy to know I was going to serve it.
I prepared it a few days before their arrival which was Friday afternoon. There was going to be a spread of food at another frat brother’s house Friday night that we were all invited to and also on Saturday night there was a catered affair for tons of folks. I would serve the stew Saturday for lunch.
I was very happy with the way my recipe turned out. How could it not be good with 3 pounds of shrimp in it that I painstakingly shelled and deveined?
Here is the recipe:
Easy Jambalaya Recipe
Prep time – 20 minutes. Cook time – 45 minutes. Total time – 1 hour and 5 minutes.
Serves: 4-6 servings
Ingredients
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into cubes
3 lbs.frozen shrimp
4 sausages (andouille sausage is most common, but use whatever you like!), sliced
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 green peppers, chopped
3 celery stalks, sliced
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes
3 bay leaves
1 tsp. Worcestershire
1 cup uncooked rice
3 cups chicken broth
1 tsp. cayenne
½ tsp. paprika
½ tsp. dried oregano
½ tsp. ground thyme
as much frozen okra as desired
INSTRUCTIONS
In a large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, peppers, celery, and garlic. Cook for a couple of minutes, or until veggies begin to sweat. Add the chicken and sausage, stirring frequently, using more olive oil if necessary. Cook until meat is browned and chicken is no longer pink. Season with salt, pepper, cayenne, paprika, oregano, and thyme. Cook for 1 more minute.
Stir in tomatoes, broth, Worcestershire, okra, and bay leaves. Bring to a boil and add rice. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 20-30 minutes, or until rice is cooked through. Add more broth if necessary, but if you stir often enough, there should be no worries of burning or sticking.
When the rice is almost cooked, stir in the frozen shrimp. Cook until heated through.
Serve!
With tailgate food at the two couples houses, how could my dish not be considered a rare treat? Well, I was about to get a total shock.
We landed at the Friday night affair. While standing around in the kitchen (like every one does) drinking and talking, the dinner was being prepared in a gigantic pot. When the hostess opened the lid I just about freaked. There was her version of jambalaya. Oh, my poor guests! There were going to now have that same meal two times in a weekend and in less then 16 hours. The meal is wonderful but to offer it twice? What could I do about it? I hadn’t brought anything else to offer them for lunch the next day. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to only have it TWICE in a weekend.
Here is her recipe:
INGREDIENTS
1 lb. shrimp
1 lb. kielbasa, sliced into 1″ rounds
1 can beef consomme soup
1 can French onion soup
1 can Rotel, original
1 stick butter, cut into pieces
2 Bay leaves
1 bunch spring onions, chopped
1&1/2 cups Uncle Bens rice, uncooked
Mix altogether except for the shrimp. Bring to a boil and simmer until rice is done. I usually cook about 45 minutes and then add the shrimp just before serving.
After her wonderful – and I do mean wonderful – dinner (doesn’t it always taste better when someone else prepares the meal?) I decided to let her in on my quandary. How funny, we both thought. I am so glad she had a sense of humor about it all. Such a coincidence! By Saturday’s lunch, I was feeling OK about not having jambalaya myself for lunch since I had just had it the night before. I did prepare it for my guests, though. I cooked a satisfying breakfast and thought when we arrived at the next party, I would find something else to eat besides Cajun food.
When we arrived, the chafing dishes were set out in her kitchen and we could see our host and hostess had decided to cater their party. The hostess from the night before was there and as I was standing across the kitchen counter where the food was laid out, I watched her open the lid to see what meal was prepared for all of us. Then I saw the reaction of almost HORROR and afterwards a laugh on her face and I knew exactly what she had found and how she felt about it. That’s right: jambalaya! AGAIN! My poor guests were ONLY having this Creole delight for the entire weekend, except for the breakfasts I would be serving. These coincidences were just hilarious and of course we had to let THIS hostess in on the joke.
I spoke to the caterer and this was their recipe:
NEW ORLEANS JAMBALAYA WITH SHRIMP AND SAUSAGE
Serves: 8-10 servings
INGREDIENTS
ROUX:
½ cup high heat oil, such as canola, corn, or vegetable
½ cup all purpose flour
GUMBO:
1 medium onion, diced
2 bell peppers (I used ½ of each red, green, yellow, orange – see note), diced
3 stalks celery, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
3 bay leaves
8 ounces andouille sausage, sliced (I used Tofurky)
2 tablespoons EACH: cajun seasoning AND tabasco sauce (more or less to taste)
1 tablespoon cayenne (omit if you want it mild)
4 cups low sodium chicken broth
1 (14.5 ounce can) stewed tomatoes and juices, roughly diced
1 ½ pounds raw shrimp
2 teaspoons gumbo filé
sliced scallions + white rice or quinoa, for serving
INSTRUCTIONS
ROUX: Heat the oil in a large dutch oven or a heavy bottom pot over medium-high heat. Whisk in the flour until combined and smooth. Switch to a wooden spoon and continuously stir for 15-22 minutes or until the roux darkens to just past a deep peanut butter color. Do not let the roux burn! (if you smell it burning, you will need to throw is out, clean the pot, and start over, unfortunately there’s just no saving burnt roux!)
Once the roux reaches that deep rich brown color, stir in the onions, bell peppers, and celery and continue to cook, stirring as needed so the vegetables don’t stick. About 8-10 minutes or until the veggies soften. Add the garlic, andouille sausage (if using tofurky, do not add yet), and bay leaves. Continue to cook for an additional 1-2 minutes until the garlic is nice and fragrant.
Add the cajun seasoning, tabasco sauce, and cayenne along with the chicken broth and stewed tomatoes and bring to a high simmer before lowering the heat to medium-low, covering and simmering for 15-20 minutes.
IF USING TOFURKY: add a teaspoon of oil to a skillet over medium high heat. Add the slices and cook for a quick 90 seconds (turning half way) just to sear the outside before adding to the gumbo.
Add the shrimp and tofurky (if using) to the gumbo, give it a stir and allow to continue to simmer for an additional 10 -15 minutes or until the shrimp is opaque and the veggies have softened. Taste and season with salt and pepper as desired. Add the gumbo filé and stir. Remove bay leaves before serving.
TO SERVE: Serve warm with white rice or quinoa with sliced scallions on top.
Delicious!
Before bed, I checked my Twitter and since I receive Southern Living Magazine tweets, it was important that very night they send out to their readers several great recipes that would feed a large crowd for any upcoming football games. The variety of recipes were for the same meal and what did I NEED to know for future reference? What do YOU think?
Here are Southern Living Magazine’s Recipes:
http://www.southernliving.com/food/en... Seafood Jambalaya
I have no words.
August 25, 2016
A little dab will do 'ya...
I am going to let you in on a little secret. Even though I majored in public speaking as an undergraduate because I was given this GIFT OF GAB, it doesn’t mean that I didn’t get a little anxious before going on stage.
When I sang in my high school or church girl’s trio or solo, I had butterflies and sometimes my voice cracked and I couldn’t sing well. Before I went on stage for a drama performance, I was nervous and my strong voice was unusually quieter. When I competed in some pageant, I threw up. Yes – tossed my cookies. While hovering over the toilet, I would hold my beautiful gown back with one hand and my hair with the other and give into my nerves.
But eventually over time, I got a little better. My inspiring CO-TEACHER friend (from my SAK books) and I conducted many regional and state Gifted conferences and even one national Gifted Conference during our 8 years of teaching together. There were two of us so no one was looking directly at me! She would speak while I prepped something then I would talk while she coordinated something for the next segment and we were never speaking alone, really. While preparing for our next individual speaking moment, we would interject something relevant here and there while the other performed. Neither of us minded. It really took the stress off of carrying the conference sessions by ourselves.
I became more comfortable leading a group of 20, 50, or even hundreds.
Then the money ran out. The county we worked for couldn’t afford to send us to share our lesson plans or conduct these workshops any longer and I got out of the habit of being comfortable while public speaking.
Two close friends died pretty soon after these educational speaking engagements stopped. But I was still known as someone who wouldn’t mind speaking before crowds. No, I didn’t mind. But giving a eulogy? I mean, all eyes were on me. There were no handouts to divert the attention away from the speaker (me) like at the conferences. There was no candy to throw into the audience to keep them engaged with all our infotainment. There was no overhead projector for power points to have them watch while we were talking. I was alone.
And nervous. This was a serious moment. I had to come up with something to get me through this.
I have this specialty concoction that I use on general occasions when I want to be the belle of the ball. It’s called: SCOTCH. I take 2 shots. Neat. I am not a real fan of Scotch. It doesn’t taste good (until the second one) and that makes it hard to swallow. But I tell you, even if I don’t like it very much, it sure likes me. It must be because of my Scottish DNA. I mean, I am the darling at the party AND at the funerals. Yes, yours truly took her nerve medicine BEFORE she gave those eulogies. It just calmed me and made me relaxed enough to get the job done. And WHERE did I take those 2 shots? Well, I used to drink those double airplane miniatures in my car after I parked in the church parking lot. Away from people. I would get there a little early, park far away, and down those suckers. I was chilled and in a good frame of mind when it was my turn to speak (for such a sad situation) that after it was all over people came up to me saying how entertaining I was. I was worried that I might be called on to be the “go to” person when someone needed a speaker for funerals…that people were going to start calling me up and that I was going to have to get an agent. I was a hit because I always talked about the celebration of the person’s life and made it more upbeat. And the Scotch did the talking. Right?
Now I am speaking at author engagements. And guess what? To take the edge off in the beginning, I began using the recommended dosage of my nerve medicine. It allowed me to be my uninhibited comical self. But I no longer needed to sit in a parking lot to down the elixirs. Those little DEWAR’s miniatures went into the buildings with me. WHAT? Well, when you have size D bra cups they didn’t fall out. Then, all it took was a bathroom trip. It all sounds very clandestine. Well, it was!
Yes, go ahead. Be shocked! But I know what you are thinking. You are glad YOU weren’t the one giving the speech or the eulogy. Jerry Seinfeld, my idol, said that according to a poll he read, the #1 fear of people is public speaking. Am I right? So, he continues…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQ6gi...
Don't judge me now.
When I sang in my high school or church girl’s trio or solo, I had butterflies and sometimes my voice cracked and I couldn’t sing well. Before I went on stage for a drama performance, I was nervous and my strong voice was unusually quieter. When I competed in some pageant, I threw up. Yes – tossed my cookies. While hovering over the toilet, I would hold my beautiful gown back with one hand and my hair with the other and give into my nerves.
But eventually over time, I got a little better. My inspiring CO-TEACHER friend (from my SAK books) and I conducted many regional and state Gifted conferences and even one national Gifted Conference during our 8 years of teaching together. There were two of us so no one was looking directly at me! She would speak while I prepped something then I would talk while she coordinated something for the next segment and we were never speaking alone, really. While preparing for our next individual speaking moment, we would interject something relevant here and there while the other performed. Neither of us minded. It really took the stress off of carrying the conference sessions by ourselves.
I became more comfortable leading a group of 20, 50, or even hundreds.
Then the money ran out. The county we worked for couldn’t afford to send us to share our lesson plans or conduct these workshops any longer and I got out of the habit of being comfortable while public speaking.
Two close friends died pretty soon after these educational speaking engagements stopped. But I was still known as someone who wouldn’t mind speaking before crowds. No, I didn’t mind. But giving a eulogy? I mean, all eyes were on me. There were no handouts to divert the attention away from the speaker (me) like at the conferences. There was no candy to throw into the audience to keep them engaged with all our infotainment. There was no overhead projector for power points to have them watch while we were talking. I was alone.
And nervous. This was a serious moment. I had to come up with something to get me through this.
I have this specialty concoction that I use on general occasions when I want to be the belle of the ball. It’s called: SCOTCH. I take 2 shots. Neat. I am not a real fan of Scotch. It doesn’t taste good (until the second one) and that makes it hard to swallow. But I tell you, even if I don’t like it very much, it sure likes me. It must be because of my Scottish DNA. I mean, I am the darling at the party AND at the funerals. Yes, yours truly took her nerve medicine BEFORE she gave those eulogies. It just calmed me and made me relaxed enough to get the job done. And WHERE did I take those 2 shots? Well, I used to drink those double airplane miniatures in my car after I parked in the church parking lot. Away from people. I would get there a little early, park far away, and down those suckers. I was chilled and in a good frame of mind when it was my turn to speak (for such a sad situation) that after it was all over people came up to me saying how entertaining I was. I was worried that I might be called on to be the “go to” person when someone needed a speaker for funerals…that people were going to start calling me up and that I was going to have to get an agent. I was a hit because I always talked about the celebration of the person’s life and made it more upbeat. And the Scotch did the talking. Right?
Now I am speaking at author engagements. And guess what? To take the edge off in the beginning, I began using the recommended dosage of my nerve medicine. It allowed me to be my uninhibited comical self. But I no longer needed to sit in a parking lot to down the elixirs. Those little DEWAR’s miniatures went into the buildings with me. WHAT? Well, when you have size D bra cups they didn’t fall out. Then, all it took was a bathroom trip. It all sounds very clandestine. Well, it was!
Yes, go ahead. Be shocked! But I know what you are thinking. You are glad YOU weren’t the one giving the speech or the eulogy. Jerry Seinfeld, my idol, said that according to a poll he read, the #1 fear of people is public speaking. Am I right? So, he continues…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQ6gi...
Don't judge me now.
July 28, 2016
"F" - Failure or Fantastic? You Decide.
July 28, 2016 – My pre-school (you know that had to be a long time ago!) teacher’s genius son ended up at MIT and founded another part of the atom in the 1950’s. I once heard that when he was in first grade, he received an “F” on a report card. When he brought this information home, he asked his mother, “What does ‘F’ mean?” She remarked, “It means you are FANTASTIC!” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him what it really meant because, after all, he was just 6.
I have a long resume of teaching gigs: church pre-school, church adult Sunday School, public elementary school, home school, public middle school, public high school, summer school, and public night school.
My night school job was eye-opening. Thank goodness for a somewhat- last- chance for some students. Those who make the most of it, I congratulate you! But for those who are there (and WHY are they there if they aren’t trying to better themselves? and are just biding their time – for what? – to be able to get a driver’s license?) please don’t disrupt my trying to teach you something.
I learned later that I had a female student who was in my night school class because she was thrown out of her county school system for throwing a desk at someone. I think that someone was a teacher. Thanks for the heads up!
I tried to make the American Literature lessons relevant. I really did. One student obediently came to class every night, sat quietly as a mouse, and failed every test. When he didn’t pass the class he spoke to me for the first time (although I did try to prompt him to contribute to the discussion in class to little success). He asked me why he made an “F”. I answered that 1) he made an “F” on every test and 2) there was not much contribution in the class discussions for me to be able to determine he was absorbing the material for him to pass. I couldn’t tell what he knew. He responded, “But I came to class every night!” I countered by saying, “Would I use a doctor that showed up to my surgery with a SCAPLE making “F’s” on all his grades just because he attended every medical lecture? Would YOU want that?”
He was a really nice guy and I hated to drop that news on him, but I certainly couldn’t GIVE him something without some signs of comprehension. I wanted to. But my conscience wouldn’t let me. It wouldn’t be fair to those who did work for it. I felt terrible for him.
Gosh, it’s hard on the students these days. I am not being sarcastic either. It really is. All the demands they and others put on themselves. They need to remember this: more “C” average college students become CEO’s of corporations. They have learned how to balance fun and grades.
My good friend, Swoozie, works for a public school test prep company whose website vision states:
"PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
With lots of opportunities to review and practice concepts and skills, Common Core Performance Coach is the program that will pave the path to success on the new high-stakes assessments.
The program allows teachers to implement lessons in a variety of ways and can reinforce Common Core Coach instruction or supplement any other program. Many examples are provided in order to solidify understanding. Practice tests mirror question types that will be seen in the new assessments and simulates in paper format what students will see online.
Common Core Performance Coach is perfect for ongoing instruction throughout the year or more intensive instruction and test prep before the tests."
She recently received a phone call while at work. The name that popped up on her phone screen read, JESUS (she was nervous for a moment that JESUS was calling - LOL). Well, after rationalizing that and calming down, she answered and heard, “Can I speak to the manager?” She said he sounded very young and she replied, “I’m the manager. Can I help?” He commented, “I’m in class right now and I need the answers.”
She replied, “I am sorry but we don’t provide answers to students.” He said, “Thank you” and hung up. Using his cell phone in class, he must have found her company’s website and called for THE ANSWERS!
Some things change and then again some things don’t: He was so polite…and I bet he showed up every day to class.
I have a long resume of teaching gigs: church pre-school, church adult Sunday School, public elementary school, home school, public middle school, public high school, summer school, and public night school.
My night school job was eye-opening. Thank goodness for a somewhat- last- chance for some students. Those who make the most of it, I congratulate you! But for those who are there (and WHY are they there if they aren’t trying to better themselves? and are just biding their time – for what? – to be able to get a driver’s license?) please don’t disrupt my trying to teach you something.
I learned later that I had a female student who was in my night school class because she was thrown out of her county school system for throwing a desk at someone. I think that someone was a teacher. Thanks for the heads up!
I tried to make the American Literature lessons relevant. I really did. One student obediently came to class every night, sat quietly as a mouse, and failed every test. When he didn’t pass the class he spoke to me for the first time (although I did try to prompt him to contribute to the discussion in class to little success). He asked me why he made an “F”. I answered that 1) he made an “F” on every test and 2) there was not much contribution in the class discussions for me to be able to determine he was absorbing the material for him to pass. I couldn’t tell what he knew. He responded, “But I came to class every night!” I countered by saying, “Would I use a doctor that showed up to my surgery with a SCAPLE making “F’s” on all his grades just because he attended every medical lecture? Would YOU want that?”
He was a really nice guy and I hated to drop that news on him, but I certainly couldn’t GIVE him something without some signs of comprehension. I wanted to. But my conscience wouldn’t let me. It wouldn’t be fair to those who did work for it. I felt terrible for him.
Gosh, it’s hard on the students these days. I am not being sarcastic either. It really is. All the demands they and others put on themselves. They need to remember this: more “C” average college students become CEO’s of corporations. They have learned how to balance fun and grades.
My good friend, Swoozie, works for a public school test prep company whose website vision states:
"PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
With lots of opportunities to review and practice concepts and skills, Common Core Performance Coach is the program that will pave the path to success on the new high-stakes assessments.
The program allows teachers to implement lessons in a variety of ways and can reinforce Common Core Coach instruction or supplement any other program. Many examples are provided in order to solidify understanding. Practice tests mirror question types that will be seen in the new assessments and simulates in paper format what students will see online.
Common Core Performance Coach is perfect for ongoing instruction throughout the year or more intensive instruction and test prep before the tests."
She recently received a phone call while at work. The name that popped up on her phone screen read, JESUS (she was nervous for a moment that JESUS was calling - LOL). Well, after rationalizing that and calming down, she answered and heard, “Can I speak to the manager?” She said he sounded very young and she replied, “I’m the manager. Can I help?” He commented, “I’m in class right now and I need the answers.”
She replied, “I am sorry but we don’t provide answers to students.” He said, “Thank you” and hung up. Using his cell phone in class, he must have found her company’s website and called for THE ANSWERS!
Some things change and then again some things don’t: He was so polite…and I bet he showed up every day to class.
