Monthly Archives: January 2008

>Because "Hootycreek" is so fun to say

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I received a collection of cookie recipes for Christmas, and this one looked good. It had some of my favorite ingredients (dried cranberries, oatmeal, chocolate) and had a cute name.

Cranberry Hootycreek Cookies
from the 2007 we energies cookie book

1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened
1 egg (or 1/4 cup egg substitute)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 cup uncooked quick oats (or old-fashioned)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup white chocolate chips (see below)
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a large bowl, cream butter; beat in egg and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine flour, oats, baking soda, salt and sugars; gradually blend into butter mixture. Stir in cranberries, chips and pecans. Drop heaping teaspoonfuls onto greased cookie sheets. Bake at 350 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes or until edges start to brown. Cool on wire racks. Makes 2 1/2 dozen cookies.

I didn’t have the white chocolate chips called for, so I substituted semi-sweet morsels and topped the cookies with the last of the chocolate brown jimmies from the annual family cookie-decorating experience. They turned out absolutely delicious. I’ll put white chocolate chips on my next shopping list; I can’t wait to try the original version!
But what is a hootycreek, anyway?

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>But will it grow?

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>Winter, lovely winter. The snow softly drifting across the yard, the sounds of power snowblowers muffled by the television news announcing school closings (in my dreams, at least), and the crashing of icicles falling from the eaves.
Or the dripping of icicles from the eaves followed by the vision of puddles frozen solid on the steps and front porch, making getting to the school bus a dangerous escapade.
After Amigo survived the adventure mentioned above, I made my way back to the garage to look for rock salt or other ice-melting compounds. I was fairly certain we had run out after the last storm, so when I dug into a big bucket of sand and lo and behold, found a familiar looking white bag with red lettering. I dug in my mittened hands, grabbed a fistful, and scattered it all over the front porch and steps.
Later that day, I emailed Husband at work and asked him if we had a bucket we could keep on the front porch with a little rock salt in it. He said sure, but we were out of the stuff, so he’d stop on the way home and stock up. Until then, I should use the biodegradable kitty litter that would absorb excess moisture and provide some texture to the ice, giving us a little traction in the process.
Out of it? I replied. Then what’s in the bag that’s on top of the gray sand bucket?
He didn’t know. Neither did I.
After school, I checked on the front porch so that Amigo could get in the house without slipping. What was this stuff? It looked like — birdseed? Curiosity got the best of me, and I went looking in the garage. With the benefit of wakefulness and a full day’s worth of caffeine, I took a good look at the white bag with red print. Then I laughed out loud.
It was lawn fertilizer — an old bag of a product we don’t even use any more.
That’s what happens when I try to be efficient pre-caffeine on an early Monday morning.

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>I’ll take care of me, in one way or another

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>Standard advice on grocery shopping tells us not to go to the store hungry.
I would add to that the following: don’t go to the store when you’re hungry for pleasure reading material.

A few days ago I went to the local discount store pharmacy for a prescription refill. While the pharmacists were filling it, I wandered the store and picked up a few things we needed. Shampoo, conditioner, bandaids, and the rest of my short list took only a few minutes of the allotted quarter hour. That’s when the danger began.

The snack and junk food department (okay, they call it “groceries”) was right next to Health and Beauty Aids. I dropped a Hershey’s bar with almonds (on sale!) into my basket, followed by a small bag of Hershey’s Kissables in Special Dark (also on special, of course). I did not buy coffee, and they didn’t have the kind of tea I was craving, so I left the area.
For the book section.
Pleasure reading for me can include anything from Time magazine to paperback romantic novels. I usually buy my books used, but sometimes I just have to have something new. Call it guilt (writers have to make a living!), impulse (oh, this looks good!), or just laziness (The second hand bookstore means yet another trip out of the house) and you’d be right on all counts.
I bought three books. Me and Mr. Darcy by Alexandra Potter, Dear John by Nicholas Sparks, and Jennifer Weiner’s The Guy not Taken.
I really don’t have much time for pleasure reading right now. I’m finishing progress reports, planning a new geography unit for Social Studies, and pulling myself out of the near-depressive deep blue funk that comes with a major Green Bay Packer loss. Who has time to curl up and read?
When I start thinking along those lines, it means I really need to take a mental health break. It’s time to set up the heating pad in the rocking chair, brew a pot of my favorite coffee, gather a small dish full of chocolate and a good book and settle down for a long winter’s, well, rest.
This ought to hold me for a while.

This post was written for Jordan’s latest Group Writing Project. You can acess the entry page at MamaBlogga or read her regular blog, including an updated list of entries.

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>Trash vs. Treasure, or the Great White Elephant Chase

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>In my workplace, a public school, we work hard. We throw ourselves wholeheartedly into teaching and planning, assessing and managing, disciplining and rewarding. We work hard, and we play hard, too.
Happy Hour after report card writing day.
Ordering in a simple lunch on Fridays.
And — the annual holiday party, complete with White Elephant gift exchange.
The party was last night. Husband and I attended, carrying our BYOB (New Glarus Spotted Cow, Wild Berry wine cooler, Diet Coke for the driver) and our two gag gifts: the ugliest ceramic piggy bank ever and a pair of media passes to a defunct Milwaukee Brewers playoff game.
Giftees were allowed to either choose a new gift or “steal” a coveted item from some who had opened it earlier. As the night went on, two or three gifts got passed around so much that at times no one knew who had them! A bird made of a broken golf club, with a golf ball head and a golf tee beak, traveled through at least six people, some of them several times. A poorly made ceramic Buddha was also in demand. They were, in fact, moving too quickly for me to take pictures! When all was said and done, no beer was spilled, no tears were spilled, and Husband and I managed to come home with something useful!
We are now the proud (okay, laughing) owners of a small squishy lumbar pillow in bright orange and a sachet/ herbal heating pad created from an old pillowcase. I actually heated it in the microwave this morning and tried it out, and it works!
I can’t wait until next year.

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>Shoulds are bogus or What a Week it Was

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>The Packers should be headed to the Super Bowl.
Reality: They lost.
End result: They’re heading on home to watch the Bowl on TV like the rest of us.

Bitter cold weather should result in a day off from school.
Reality: Our new superintendent is a tough guy and thinks everyone else should tough it out, too.
End result: No day off, or even a two hour delay, despite the double digit below zero wind chills.

Students should behave when reminded, if not sooner.
Reality: Sometimes they argue with the teacher instead of shaping up.
End result: Certain individuals in my class are wondering why I contacted their parents regarding their inappropriate behavior.

I should be finished with my progress reports and feeling refreshed upon starting a new semester.
Reality: Dealing with the large numbers of students with unmedicated ADHD and the undiagnosed who-knows- what that permeates my classroom is, frankly, exhausting.
End result: I’m going to be working on my progress reports this weekend, since I had no energy to finish them earlier this week.

I should be mad at Buttercup for scratching me this morning.
Reality: Well, really, I shouldn’t have picked her up when she wasn’t eager to snuggle.
End result: She’s still my sweet bunny, and the scratch is fine now. In fact, you can find a Buttercup Portrait here. Yes, she’s a character.

I should rest this weekend.
Reality: It’s Trivia Weekend!
End result: I’ll spend too much time listening to the webcast and helping Amigo answer questions during the contest, and I’ll thoroughly enjoy the 50 hours. Well, I’ll thoroughly enjoy as much of the 50 hours as I experience, since I’m much too wise (or old) to stay up the whole time.

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>What’s a locavore?

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>Husband, Mr. Word Person and crossword puzzle addict, was listening to a show on NPR about new words coined in 2007. We laughed at “w00t” and talked about a few others, and he mentioned “locavore.” He thought I’d like the word.
I do like the word and the concept. It makes me think, and that’s a good thing in today’s world. A locavore, according to Oxford, follows “…a trend in using locally grown ingredients, taking advantage of seasonally available foodstuffs that can be bought and prepared without the need for extra preservatives.” If you’re worried about your carbon footprint, eating local also minimizes the need for transportation that ships the food over miles and miles of roads or rails, spewing carbon monoxide into the atmosphere.
That sounds rather radical, and my inflammatory choice of words makes it more so. I like the philosophy of eating local. The reality is harder. If I choose to increase consuming locally, it’ll be tough in the winter. Summer, it’ll be easy.
Here are a few steps we’re already taking along the locavore route. We shop at a farmers’ market, I have a decent vegetable garden, we can buy local produce easily. I freeze what I can; there is plenty of diced rhubarb and little grated zucchini in my (now functional) freezer.
Meat and bread are harder. When we buy from local bakers, is that enough? Or do we need to be sure they’re getting their raw materials locally? When I bake my own bread (in my lovely bread machine), do my raw materials need to be locally milled as well?
And what about produce that doesn’t grow locally, but has nutritional value? I’m thinking of the cases of oranges and grapefruit that I buy from the local music department’s fundraiser every year. This becomes a staple of my winter diet, and I hope the extra vitamin C helps keep the all-too-common colds away.
As with all green philosophies, I’ll use this one when I can. I’m sure I won’t be a perfect locavore, but I’ll work it into my family’s life little by little. We’ll make an impact. We’ll think globally and act, or at least eat, locally when it’s possible.

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>The Minimalist or a Talk in the Teacher’s Lounge

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>”We’ll just red-flag him in case he needs interventions later.”

Pause.
“When ‘just’ and ‘red flag’ are both in the same sentence, I know I must be at (insert name of school here). Nowhere else would a red flag be a relief.”
“Teachers in my former school didn’t have a clue as to what needy and poor students are like.”
“Not at all?”
“No, they kept saying that their school should have all the programs for the poor and the lower class sizes that go with it. And in the next breath they’d mention that they had no free or reduced lunch families in their classes, and there was a stay-at-home mom volunteering all the time while her husband was ‘taking depositions’.”
Snort in response. “No clue.”
“None.”
“And do you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is a great school with great kids and really neat families.”

Unwrapping of lunches, tea bags dropped into mugs of water and placed in microwaves

“Which students go to the Talented and Gifted class with you today?”
“Susan, Ron, Jorge, and Jerome.”
“I thought there were five. Um…Hans! Isn’t Hans in the program?”
“He chose not to participate.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. He’s so bright. He learns so quickly, and seems to pick up new concepts out of thin air.”
“I remember his brothers. They were the same way — minimalists. Nothing but the bare minimum effort to get by.”
“Oh, that’s so sad. So much ability, and so little motivation.”

Beeping of microwave, setting up of plastic forks and spoons, as teachers inhale a little lunch

“None of us are minimalists.”
“Hmm?”
“None of us put a bare minimum of effort into our teaching. If we only wanted that, we wouldn’t teach here.”
General laughter and nods.
“Hey, all. Isn’t this an awesome school?”
General chorus of “Yeah, all right, you bet!”
And off we went into the wild blue yonder of trying to tame and teach our young unpredictable charges in a diverse, largely low-income school, while the weather outside was frightful and there was a full moon on the way.

And no, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

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>Are you smarter than a fourth grader?

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Actual answers on a recent Social Studies activity:

What part of Michigan borders Wisconsin and separates Lake Superior and Lake Michigan?
Pennsylvania

What state has more Great Lakes coastline than any other?
Pennsylvania

Fortunately, most of the class got these questions right. But this kid? I’m more than a little bit worried about him. I think it’s time to make sure he learns how to read a map and can tell the word Peninsula (as in Da U.P der hey) from Pennsylvania.

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>SMART goals — or, something to take my mind off of the playoffs

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>I read the BlogHer Good Health-a-thon post about New Year’s Resolution vs. SMART goals. It reminded me a lot of writing Individual Education Plans for special needs students, where we write their goals for the academic year. SMART is an acronym for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, and Timely. With those thoughts in mind, here I go.

Back pain was a major issue in 2007. The problems have been developing gradually for a few years, but the doctor finally said “No more muscle relaxants. We need to deal with the root cause of this,” in 2007. So I started physical therapy.

The short version: it worked. Or more accurately, it’s working. PT loosened up muscles I hadn’t used properly in years, revealed some bad habits that were causing more pain, and started me on a long-term stretching and strengthening regimen that can only help. Now, instead of being stiff most of the time and in excruciating pain now and then, I’m feeling sore all the time. But it is much less severe pain than I had pre-PT.

My objective: deal with the back problem to strengthen the area and lessen the pain.

Specific: Continue exercise regimen. Practice good posture, replace bending with sitting or squatting. Use lumbar pillow when at the computer or at my desk.
Measurable: Exercise daily (as possible), evaluate pain level on 1-10 scale at least once a week.
Realistic: Take anti-inflammatories when pain is worse. Ask for help with heavy or awkward details at school (this will be difficult for me). Bring small lumbar pillow to school for desk chair.
Timely: Start now. Continue at least five days a week with a goal of 7 whenever possible, and contact doctor if progress is slow.

There are a few items I need to put in place to make success more likely. I need a new, better quality heating pad. Mine is about to give up. A smaller, more usable lumbar pillow will be good, too. Maybe even a new pillow for the bed; if it helps my spinal alignment, it’ll help minimize the back pain. Pillow shopping, here I go!

Since Husband doesn’t have to travel to Phoenix after all (Sniff, Sob), at least I won’t have to shovel or run the snowblower. Darn it.

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>These pretzels are making me thirsty.

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>According to my wonderful younger brother, everything in life can be explained in the context of an episode of either Seinfeld or Friends. I don’t think he knew that his philosophy would hold true for the NFL playoffs.
The New York Giants come to town this weekend to play the Green Bay Packers in the NFC Championship game to determine who will play in this season’s Super Bowl. According to the grapevine, quarterback Eli Manning’s favorite show is Seinfeld. A local TV station airs reruns of Seinfeld on Saturday evening, and has decided not to air its scheduled show because that might be considered “providing comfort to the enemy” — the enemy quarterback, that is. The news folks took a poll via their web site and decided to replace the rerun with a Vince Lombardi piece.
Apparently, Jerry Seinfeld heard about this and decided to take matters into his own hands. He is providing Manning with a full set of Seinfeld DVDs, the portable DVD player, and yada, yada, yada.
The visiting teams usually stay not in Green Bay, but in a decent hotel in my own little nearby town. Honestly, I hope dear Eli is happy and comfortable now, because he certainly won’t be comfortable in the cold come Sunday evening. At the moment, my outdoor thermometer reads 2 degrees. Temps on Sunday will be about the same, and the wind chill has not been predicted — not that there’s anything wrong with that.
This sure is a lot of something over a show about nothing. So put on your green and gold, fans, and serve up the pretzels.

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