Monthly Archives: May 2012

Daisy’s Garden Takes Shape: Planting Peppers

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Episode Two in The Garden Takes Shape took place Saturday evening. I was busy in an air conditioned office during the afternoon shift, entering data from canvassing volunteers. It was unseasonably warm in Wisconsin with a recall race heating up, so I waited until I could work in the shade. Clever, eh? Worked in the election reference right away. If you’re alert, you’ll notice a few more references cleverly hidden in the context of the post.

Performance art or garden sculpture?

This corner , mainly inhabited by “walking” green onions, needed work. It offered cages to be removed & grass roots to pull, and you know the strength of grass-roots organizing. I took care of the space around the onions, and I was ready. Well, almost ready.

I use a variation on Square Foot Gardening. I plan my space, block off the squares, and then figure out how many plants or seeds can fit in the space according to the number of squares in the grid.

What grid, you ask? I’ll show you.

This grid.

My grids are not faithful to the trademarked Square Foot Gardening technique. My grid is fairly accurate (I measure), but it’s not permanent. It’s made of masking tape. By the time I’m done planting and I no longer need the guidelines, it’ll be stuck to my shoes or tangled in the topsoil. That’s all fine with me, since it’s biodegradable.

Saturday night, while the guys in the family shopped for groceries, I dug into the soil and placed my pepper plants in their places. Squared, cubed, or otherwise multiplied, these little seedlings have the power to produce the ingredients for many jars of salsa next August.

 

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Daisy’s Garden Takes Shape: Inventory and Planning Episode

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In March, I found seeds. Some were a year old, some even older, so I wasn’t sure if they’d grow. With that uncertainty in mind, I planted them all. 


too many tomatoes and peppers

You guessed it. Almost every single seed produced a seedling. I even had to transplant the tomatoes into larger containers in mid-April because they were overcrowded. Last year, a late blizzard took down my starters. This season, I have many – some would say too many. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Chuck, you can say “I told you so!”

 

plan ahead

I did what I do – what teachers do, anyway. I took inventory of my seedlings and planned for the use of the garden space. I thought I could plant all the tomatoes in the triangle and plant all the peppers in the plot behind the garage, the area that last year was home to lettuces. Then I realized the tomatoes would need support. Supports? Both singular and plural, you grammar-loving sorts.

Of course I don’t have enough. With creative use of the square cage, I can contain and support the Large Red Cherry tomato plants. No comments from the peanut gallery, please, I recognized the oxymoron. i did. I have straight supports that will do for the Beefsteak variety when combined with gentle tie-ups made from old tee shirts. My favorites, the red spirals that stand about six feet tall, are in limited supply. As far as I can tell, Fleet Farm no longer carries them. The Bonny Best will climb what I have, and the yellow pear tomatoes will have to make do with the V-shaped stands.

cages, old and semi-useless

I still have several old wire tomato cages. These are too short to be of much use in the multi-tomato zone because my tomato plants usually grow quite a bit taller than the wires. I might, however, use these to help keep the pepper plants contained.

Oh, were you looking for my usual election reference? Check out the little purple notebook next to the clipboard above. The “I Voted” sticker was my exit sticker from the recall primary. 

So there you have it, readers. Tune in tomorrow for the next installment in Daisy’s Garden Takes Shape.

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The what ate your homework?

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Truth is stranger than fiction.

I teach in a virtual school. Students take most of their quizzes and tests online. Since the dog can’t eat their homework in this kind of setting, they have to get creative. Very, very creative.

Chapter One:

My brother was messing on the computer while i was getting coffee for my dad and i had my math test going i answerd the last few q. and sent it in the i was shocked by my grade and he told me that he was doing my school can u mark it un done???
im sorry

Chapter Two:

(insert student name here) had to do something for me and my son messed up her test. and submitted it while she was gone again. She wanted to webmail you but she didn’t want you to think that she is cheating. so she told me to do it can you please reset it again. – signed by student’s mother 

Chapter Three:

 mrs daisy my bro messed with my ss test

Well, readers, let’s have a prediction. What’s next? Will she pass the social studies test? Will her little brother decide that he likes science, too? Tell me, readers, what do you think?

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The Personalized Cubicle

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How does a cubicle-dweller give the space an personal touch? We teachers are more accustomed to decorating an entire classroom with the help of students. It’s a little different when the class is virtual. My cubicle has a few odd pieces on the walls.

Cookie Fortunes!

My Favorite Forgotten Terms

My Favorite Forgotten Terms

Select pages from my desk calendar grace one wall. Coworkers sometimes stop in to read my new words and the comments I’ve added.

Forgotten English: The Calendar

Here it is: the cover to the calendar. If you can’t quite see it, the word of the day was “flurrigigs” the day I took the picture. Don’t recognize the word? Look it up: if you can.

Meanwhile, I’ll reboot the computer one more time and plan to pick up a Barrett for Governor sign after school. Did you really think I’d make it through an entire post without mentioning the looming election? Hah. 

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What will I tell the grandkids?

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It was 2011 or 2012, you youngsters. I forget which year, but I can never forget what went down. And oh, boy, did it go down! 

Wisconsin’s newly elected governor decided to take a piece out of all the people who worked for the state in any way, shape, or form. His goal was to destroy our unions’ rights to bargain, to cooperate with our employers and negotiate. He focused in on teachers, but we (yes, that included me back in the day) weren’t alone by any means. All public employees began to feel like public enemies as he vilified (look it up, honey, there are still dictionaries in this home) vilified us for daring to earn a living from a public source, a.k.a. tax monies, instead of a private company.

As the recently-elected Governor Walker introduced and tried to pass his union-busting bill, claiming it was a budget issue, he needed a quorum in order to call for a vote. Sweetheart, do you know what a quorum means? No? What are they teaching these days…. never mind. A quorum is a set minimum number of people in a voting group who need to be present in order to vote on important issues. Budget issues, those that involve money, need a quorum. If that quorum is not present, the bill cannot go to a vote. 

So, my dears, in order to prevent this bill from reaching the floor for a vote, the Democrats in our state senate made a run for the border. They traveled to Illinois so the Wisconsin state police couldn’t come after them and force them to come back. Without the Democrats, the Republicans had their hands tied. They had to just sit there and look smug while the protests raged in and around the capitol. Clever, eh? It’s not that first time in history this runaway tactic was used, either. But back to Wisconsin’s drama –

Walker, it turned out, was acting as a puppet for his billionaire backers and a dangerous think tank named Alec. Or was the billionaire named Alec?  But anyway, he wasn’t doing his own thinking. His goals included not just destroying public unions, but putting women’s rights back a good forty years. His motto was Divide and Conquer. 

So what did we do? We did what Wisconsinites have always done: we looked at our progressive history, said to that guy in Madison, “Oh, no you don’t!” and we took to the streets. Thousands marched on Madison. Hundreds more participated in local marches and demonstrations. Ask your elderly neighbors about the demonstrations in downtown Appleburg. They were there. They were there sending a message: “Governor Walker’s got to go. This isn’t Wisconsin. If he thinks the citizens of our fair state are going to just lie down and go gently into that good night, he’s dead wrong. We won’t go quietly. In fact, we won’t go at all.”

And that’s when the recall effort began. 

Okay, kidlets, it’s time for my nap. I’ll tell you later about the tactics. It was an exciting and scary time to live in Wisconsin…zzz… it was the best of times, it was the worst of times…zzz. 

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A well-stocked pantry rules the world.

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Pantry Raid

Pantry Raid. It sounds so much more dignified than leftovers. Well, maybe. I came home one night just exhausted from school, unmotivated to cook. In the distant past, this feeling would have meant calling for pizza. Luckily, Chuck does the grocery shopping, and he does it well. All I have to do on any given night is put it all together.

I pulled together a package of fresh ravioli from the refrigerator, tomato sauce from a jar I’d started a few days earlier, grated cheese on top – and called it supper. I think we had a lettuce salad on the side.

This has become a point of pride in our home: the ability to create a decent meal without resorting to the phone or to convenience foods. The ravioli was pre-made, but it was from the dairy case, not the C-rations aisle. It was on sale, so Chuck bought it for just this type of day. The tomato sauce and the grated cheddar completed the dish. The more creative we can be in the kitchen, the less money we spend on take-out or delivery. And since my future financial security is in the hands of the weasel in Madison, anything that saves money and still feeds the family has value.

Did you really think I’d get through an entire post without mentioning the upcoming recall election? Hah.

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To educate or not to educate?

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Overheard: “Educated people aren’t as happy underemployed as uneducated people.”

Scary thought, isn’t it?

Educated people expect more. Educated adults tend to raise educated children. Educated people value education and vote for candidates who will fund and maintain successful education systems.

Educated people expect more. They expect results. They expect others to listen and learn from them as they listen and learn from others. Educated people want to raise the bar, not lower it, in most parts of their lives – including raising the bar for employment.

Educated people value education. They are more likely to work with their children on homework, enroll their children in supplementary activities such as drama, music, and sports, and encourage their children to reach for the stars.

Educated people value educators. Educators value education. They expect results and will extend themselves to get those results. Educators will find shoes for their students, write grants to improve their resources, and make sure their students get fed. Educators reach out to help meet students’ basic needs so students can turn their attentions to reading.

Educators, like other educated people, aren’t happy underemployed. Educators know their worth, and they’re not content to be disrespected. Educators, passionate about their work, aren’t happy to be the continual victims of name-calling by the uneducated.

Soon-to-be-former Governor Walker doesn’t value education. In his form of logic, he didn’t graduate from college; why should anyone else?

I submit exhibit one.

Actual sign: no photoshopping required

Educators proofread their work.

Educated people proofread their campaign signs.

Educated people vote.

Unfortunately, uneducated people also vote. I just have to hope that the former will outnumber the latter.

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A chair can hold flowers, too.

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curbside find #1

Curbside Find #1

Here’s the chair we adopted and converted two years ago.

Curbside Find #2

Here’s the chair we found last week.

Below: behold Chuck creating a hole in the “new” chair.

Chuck, hard at work

 And finally, the completed project.

Chair completed!

The story told in pictures above is the story of Petunia’s gift for Mother’s Day. We found the chair earlier this week. It reminded us of one we’d already converted to a planter (see first photo), so we brought it home and cleaned it up. Chuck cut the hole in the center (no easy feat; this chair was sturdy) and I planted petunias in it. Done!

 

 

 

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Pure Matters –

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Early last week, a package was on the porch: a product review sample left by FedEx. While overnight shipping has a significant carbon footprint, I understand the need for marketers to get their products out to their bloggers quickly. Within its protective packaging, I found small samples, a cloth shopping bag, and two full-sized bottles of product.

I sampled the combination pro- and pre-biotic for digestive health. I gave the kids’ multi-vitamins to La Petite. She’s 25, but she’s still my kid.

I grumbled about the over-packaging, and then I settled down to read the enclosed information in order to write a review. When I stopped grumbling and actually read the information, I decided that the combination pre-biotic and pro-biotic was safe for me to take and might just counteract the, um, er, stomach distress I’d been feeling lately. Replacing Wisconsin’s rogue governor will make my stomach feel better, too, but our chance to do that is still 22 days off. I’ll stick to Pure Matters to regulate my digestive health.

This product is a Complete Biotic, meaning it’s both prebiotic and probiotic. Probiotics replenish the good bacteria in the digestive tract. One commonly known probiotic is lactobacillus sporogenes, or the live bacteria that makes yogurt, well, yogurt. Prebiotics are supplements that help support the growth of probiotics. Pure Matters’ product is shelf stable, too.

Pure Matters also sent a few sample packs. Their gummi-style vitamins for kids are delicious. I did not try the sleep formula or the green tea extract yet.

Pure Matters sent me samples in order to facilitate my review. I had reservations about their over-packaging, but I liked the product in the box. In the end, I guess that’s what matters. 

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Romney: none so blind

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My son, known to readers as Amigo, stands with his white cane and tells a good joke.

Mitt Romney, on the other hand, isn’t funny. Mitt is gaining notoriety for his bullying behavior in high school, behavior he calls “dumb things.” I’d take it farther than just dumb or dumber.

He allegedly cut off a fellow student’s hair. No matter what the reason, holding a person down while cutting his or her hair sounds like assault to me. If Mitt instigated this attack because he suspected the classmate was gay, this assault falls into the hate crime catalog.

Mitt might claim ignorance with the excuse that he was a prankster, one who was mischievous and liked to push boundaries. Gang-tackling a classmate and cutting his hair while he cried and screamed is more than pushing boundaries. It’s mean. It’s hurtful. It’s traumatic. None of the members of this wolf-pack can pretend they didn’t know they were hurting their classmate. I said he might claim ignorance; I didn’t say anyone would believe it.

There’s a sequel to this story we might call The Tale of Mean Mitt. While at the same privileged private boarding school, Mitt the Mean tricked a blind teacher into walking into a closed door – while other students laughed. He took advantage of a disability for his entertainment. .

So far we’ve established that the teen Mitt preyed on young men with long hair and took pleasure in the discomfort of disabled adults. Do you see where I’m going, readers? I’m sure you can.

I’m both a disabled adult and a teacher. I’ve taught long enough to notice that a person’s character shows in his interactions with those he considers his inferiors. Think about it. Teen Mitt didn’t respect people who were gay or people who were blind. The adult Mitt doesn’t respect people who are poor or people who are female. I’d wager a guess that he hasn’t changed his mind about long-haired men or disabled teachers, either.

Friends and family are saying Mitt “…doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” I don’t believe them. I don’t want him near me or near my blind son. And I most certainly don’t want him in the White House.

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