And so it goes – by text message

Actual text conversation regarding my laptop:

Chuck: The problem is a known thing that happens to many. Major Software Company has not been forthcoming with a fix. Solutions are available, but complex enough that I don’t want to try.

Chuck again: Shall I call (local computer shop)? I’m sure they can do it, likely need unit for a few days.

Daisy (at work): If you do, ask if it’s worthwhile.  might provide a patch.

Note: at this time, we were just worried about minor problems such as the laptop running slowly and being glitchy when I wanted to access the start menu or shut it down. We had no idea. 

Chuck: At (local computer shop). On your desktop are apps called Blah Blah and Blah Blah Blah. Are they important? Do you use them?

Daisy: No. You may uninstall both.

Chuck: First one won’t let us uninstall, but got the other. Then things got worse. Lost most access to everything. These are known malware, usually comes bundled with something else. Explains all your recent complaints. It’s at (local computer shop).

Daisy: Crap. Thank you for taking care of it.

Chuck: Hoping to have it back three days from now. Sorry.

Daisy: So be it. Sob. I’ll live.

Note: I was working an extended night because of parent-teacher conferences. Add to the exhaustion of the long day the knowledge that my laptop was in the computer hospital, and I was wiped out.

If you read the last post, you know it took me a full week or more to recover access to my blog dashboard. Now that it’s back, I think we’ll have a party of some sort. Coffee, anyone? Chocolate?

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I Have My Voice Back!

It’s been a long, long week or two – so long that I’m not sure how many days I’ve been waiting. First, my laptop went into the shop to have malware removed. In the process of the malware-ectomy, Chrome was also removed, including all of my bookmarks. Most of my bookmarks are fairly easy to recover. One, however, wasn’t.

The dashboard to Compost Happens eluded me. I looked and I searched, and I searched and I looked. It wasn’t on the laptop; it wasn’t in a book. With apologies to Dr. Seuss, of course, for the loose rhyming pattern. 

I found my way into our hosting provider’s web site, then into our AMP (Account Management Panel), and from there into the cPanel.for our account. None of the links were direct, but I had enough at my fingertips to know I could get here from there. A short chat with someone in IT, and I had it.

CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON!!!

What should I post first? A rabbit, of course.

A Rabbit in a Sweater

A Rabbit in a Sweater

La Petite’s bunny, Sadie, wearing the latest in rabbit fashion – a sweater made from a Muk-Luks leg warmer. Perfect.

Ah, readers, it’s good to be online again.

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Buying a Dishwasher – fun?

We did the research online before heading to the Big Box store. On the short drive there, I tapped into as many Pokemon Stops as I could (to fill my bag with balls, etc.), and Chuck told me all about the features we could get.

Sales Dude in Blue approached, and we welcomed him. He knew what he needed to know, so we asked our questions, got answers, made our decision, and ordered a dishwasher to be delivered and installed in a few weeks.

That’s the short story.

Somehow, within this entire shopping journey, we discovered that we have a great deal in common with Sales Dude in Blue. Gardening, canning, foraging. Foraging! Water conservation, rain barrels, desire to see more cities rewarding those who conserve. Cataract surgery. Cataract surgery? Yes, indeed, Sales Dude in Blue recognized a particular glint that indicates eye surgery, and asked if I was satisfied with my results. For the most part, yes, I answered. If the left retina had stayed attached, I’d be more content.

But anyway, we’re replacing our aging dishwasher in a few weeks. Days, in fact, before Election Day. Oh, my, even the behavior of a major appliance can make me think of November 8th. I sense a theme here.

We didn’t talk politics with Sales Dude in Blue. We didn’t need to. And when we’ve had the dishwasher for a few days and Election Day is done, I’ll have more reasons to sigh with relief.

 

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Inventory

Wow.

Wow.

Top shelf, left to right: salsa; jams and jellies galore.

Lower shelf, left to right: applesauces (in at least three variations); juice concentrates; pickles, dill and sweet.

Expanding to a second set of shelves

Expanding to a second set of shelves

Bottom shelf: canning pots and a pretty blue aluminum stock pot.

Middle shelf: tomatoes; more tomatoes; enchilada sauce; tiny jars of jellies and jams, perfect for gift giving.

Top shelf: apple preserves (a.k.a. pie filling), more applesauce, and pear sauce.

Highest shelf: old laptop computers. This will eventually (hopefully) get cleared off and ready for more canned goods. Next year. Maybe.

This used to house small containers.

This used to house small containers.

Now it’s tomato sauce, tomato sauce, and more tomato sauce.

But where did I put the awkward and odd shaped small containers?

In my older, worn canner and a spare I picked up thrifting.

In my older, worn canner and a spare I picked up at a thrift store.

There you have it, folks. Storage, Daisy style. One problem: I don’t have room for the empty jars. Not that many jars are empty at the moment.

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If Wishes Were Horses

I was tired last night. Tired enough to turn on Monday Night Football, but not know the score. Tired enough to feed the rabbit and make my lunch, but forget to finish the refreshing beverage and bowl of pretzels beside my reclined end of the couch. Tired enough to avoid the debate between candidates for my congressional district.

And that, my friends, is tired. I’m tired of the election commercials. I’m tired of worrying about what-ifs. What if this garbage and BS of a rigged election cause craziness in the people who are gullible enough to believe it and aggressive enough to cause trouble?

And then, the wishes. I wish Election Day were over and the results clear. I wish the likelihood of a Clinton victory weren’t tainted with the nastiness of her horrible opponent. I wish I thought the glass ceiling would shatter dramatically, yet peacefully. I wish I had a Reese’s peanut butter cup. Hey, don’t judge. There’s Halloween candy in the back hallway, and chocolate makes me feel better. 

I wish I didn’t feel this ominous cloud hanging over my shoulders, the fear that we haven’t seen the worst of it yet. I wish that feeling were gone, and most of all, I wish I thought that feeling was wrong.

The best action I can take will be to vote early. Amigo and Chuck voted yesterday. My first opportunity, after meetings and conferences and more meetings, will be Thursday, between picking up the Chicago style pizza and serving it up for Eating the Opponent, Chicago on Thursday Night Football. Thursday night, I’ll know the score.

I wish I knew that the scores on November 8 will have the best results for our country.

And if wishes were horses, then beggars might ride.

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The Search for the Perfect Pot

Stock pot, that is. For cooking. And canning. You didn’t think I was aiming my gardening talents in a new direction, did you?

I have an ordinary kitchen stock pot. It’s a good size, heats up evenly, and cleans fairly well, too. BUT – the nonstick coating is wearing through. I don’t really know what the coating is or was, whether it’s toxic or fine, just fine. I’ve made many, many jams and jellies in it. Now that the underlying material is showing, I don’t know if it’s safe for canning anymore. So let’s look at the rest of my stock (pun intended) in the basement.

To the right of my hot water bath canners...

To the right of my hot water bath canners are two other pots.

The one in front, next to the bright blue, heats quickly: too quickly. It allows applesauce or pear sauce to burn to the bottom of it before the mix boils down, and that’s not a good trait. It may be aluminum, too, which would take it out of the “non-reactive” category most canning requires. Lovely though it is, this pot might go to the thrift store with the next donation batch.

I found the bright blue in a second hand store. It heats quickly and evenly. It has thick sides that keep the heat in, and I haven’t burned anything in it – yet. BUT – this lovely stock pot has a few weaknesses, too. The handles heat up, which means hot pads on both hands whether I’m stirring or lifting or dumping. It’s nonmagnetic (except for the handles), meaning it’s most likely aluminum, too. #*@&!

I won’t even analyze the cast iron Dutch oven. We love it, but it’s heavy and it can be difficult to clean. I season it every time I use it, hoping the cast iron will eventually have just the right coating. Cast iron, like aluminum, is also reactive.

So, my friends, there you have it. The search, so far unsuccessful, for the perfect stock pot. When I find the perfect match, I’ll use it for jams, jellies, butters (not you, Buttercup, so be quiet), pickles, salsas, and more.

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Dear Voters

Dear Speaker (Mr. Ryan, of course);

I’m glad to hear that you don’t think women should be objectified. Announcing publicly that you were “sickened” by Trump’s remarks was a good start. “Championed and revered” headed off in the wrong direction, however. How about equals? 

Yours in equal pay (not), Daisy

Dear Senator McCain;

Is “unendorse” really a word? I guess it is now. This could be even more powerful than “unfriend.”

An everyday middle school English Language Arts teacher

Dear Melania (Trump, of course);

Unacceptable and Offensive I can believe. Unfortunately, I don’t believe you when you say that this doesn’t represent the man you know. Denial may seem like a survival skill now, but you can’t deny his ugly and predatory personality forever. It’s time to step away from the Trump Troll, for your own sake.

A Quiet Observer

To whomever helps the candidate pack his suitcases;

This man needs a wake-up call. Cayenne pepper in the Tic Tacs might be appropriate.

Fresh Breath forever, Daisy

Dear voters;

You can tell a lot about a person by how he treats those he considers his inferiors. This guy doesn’t think of women as people. To him, a woman is an object, something to play with and someone to use. To paraphrase one of Donald’s own misstatements, Nineteenth Amendment people, you know what to do.

Respectfully (and you won’t get that from the Donald), a feminist voter

Dear President Obama (Eight years later, I still love hearing that title!);

Thank you for publicly stating that you want the same opportunities for your daughters as anyone would for their sons. You set a prime example by installing Hillary Clinton as your first Secretary of State. I would expect no less from the leader of the free world.

Daisy, a Dedicated Democrat

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Math Encore

My students had two prompts from which to choose: Peer Pressure or My Role Model. I remembered this. Try it. It won’t take long. Seriously. It’ll only take you a few minutes.
WHO IS YOUR ROLE MODEL?

1) Pick your favorite number between 1-9.

2) Multiply by 3

3) Add 3

4) Multiply by 3 again (I’ll wait while you get the calculator….)

5) You’ll get a 2 digit number….

6) Add the digits together to obtain your score.
Now scroll down to find out what your score means.

I’ll go get a cup of coffee while I wait for you to interpret your results.

Keep scrolling (I had to keep the answers under the fold in case you’re one of those people: the people who will skew the math to match the result they want).

Now with that number see who your ROLE MODEL is from the list below :

1. Barack Obama
2. Michelle Obama
3. John Kerry
4. Aaron Rodgers
5. Tom Hanks
6. Simone Biles
7. Oprah Winfrey
8. Ellen DeGeneres
9. Daisy of Compost Happens
10. Meredith Viera

P.S. Stop picking different numbers.

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Teachers have Many Talents – Foreshadowing?

Browsing the archives, I wondered if this post could be considered foreshadowing. At the time, we teachers were very worried about the future of public education. We’re still worried, and we set that worry aside daily while we focus on the task at hand: educating our current students.

It was one of the average days at the lunch table and an average teacher conversation these days – what to do if we get laid off, our salaries go down, the governor gets his way, or all of the above. It was the kind of day when we reflected on our own capabilities and wondered aloud where our futures might lead.

One of the more productive discussions came about through mention of LinkedIn. Many of us have LinkedIn accounts, but few of us are actively using the site. This discussion led to skills and resumes.

Teachers, we realized, develop many professional skills beyond classroom teaching. Heck, we virtual teachers learned new ways of delivering instruction as soon as we stepped in the door and logged onto our computers. When I opened my LinkedIn account and started to check off skills, I was pleasantly surprised. As we sat around the table and listed each other’s strengths, we started feeling more confident and even a little calmer.

Time management. Prioritizing. Meeting deadlines. Learning new software and doing it quickly. Organization. Keeping records. Analyzing. Reading. Writing. Making coffee. Okay, I slipped that one in just for fun.

The point, if our lunch table group had a point, was that we are skilled professionals. We’re not “just” teachers. We teach and we do much more. If public education goes south in a hand basket, each one of us will find a way to make a living, pay the bills, and feed the family.

And if public education crashes and burns under stupid state programs, er, ineffective policies, the children of today and tomorrow will suffer. And that, my friends, is the real loss. 

We’ve lost a handful of teachers since this post first aired. Some went into private sector jobs; others retired. Some left the virtual school world and moved back into traditional brick and mortar settings. This post may have foreshadowed those losses. At this point, we’re having a hard time hiring a paraprofessional (teacher aide) because the job is a lot of work and the pay is low. As long as educators and support personnel watch the field go downhill, fast, foreshadowing on this note might not be surprising.

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Flashback – Foreshadowing?

I was browsing my archives and reminiscing, and at the same time thinking about how I’ll be teaching flashback and foreshadowing as literary techniques very soon. Here’s a flashback to Election 2012.

The flashback begins with a smallish haul from a midweek farm market.

I’m not growing zucchini this year. Can you tell?

Unfortunately, Chuck thought I went overboard.

Fortunately, I have good recipes for zucchini bread and zucchini cookies.

I met a friend for coffee. Unfortunately, I ran late. Fortunately, I found a great parking place and we had delicious coffee as we worked.

Lovely, tasty beverage!

Fortunately, I donated zucchini bread when I did a little volunteer work for the Obama campaign.

Unfortunately, I didn’t plug the meter with enough change.

A $5 Ticket!$@#^!

I dropped off the Obama postcards at the post office and then went to City Hall to pay my dues. It’s a small price to pay to help re-elect the president. Fortunately, I had change for the meter that time. Unfortunately, I left the change in my pocket. Fortunately, the meter readers were still canvassing the blocks by the political offices. So… I made another investment in downtown and brought home smoothies for me and Amigo.

Oh, what a day. I think I’ll go hide in the tomato jungle. At least I don’t have to pay for parking there.

Foreshadowing? Come back for more in the category of literary techniques, Daisy style.

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