>What’s in my bag?

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No, it’s not a commercial for what’s in my wallet. Over on Work it, Mom, there’s a contest with a great prize: a Veronica London Business Tote. I took a picture of my schoolbag with its contents, and patted myself on the back for not having to clean out a pile of junk.
Just for fun, I thought I’d share.

From the left, moving clockwise:
  • binder of overhead transparencies (for planning the week’s writing workshop)
  • folder of above transparencies in need of copying first thing Monday morning
  • nice note from former student
  • assorted pens and pencils, highlighter advertising credit union
  • star stickers
  • tri-fold containing instructions for using automated substitute – finder system
  • jump drive (containing templates for substitute plans, among other files)
  • social studies papers awaiting correction
  • calendar (with bunny pictures on cover)
  • Winnie-the-Pooh folder containing phone tree, research articles, and coupons for school supplies
  • inhaler (rarely needed, but when I do need it, I can’t wait)
  • wrist splint (darn district database is not teacher-friendly; I feel physical, not emotional, pain after entering my class’ scores)
  • and the bag itself, a bargain I found in the luggage dept. two years ago
As I looked over this picture and listed the contents, I felt good about the absence of “junk” in the bag. I’ve learned to be realistic with my workload on weekends and only bring home that which I can really accomplish. Any more, and I bring home a heavy bag that puts strain on my back and stretches my guilt reflex. I also feel good about both the green and the frugal elements shown here. The binder and both folders are re-used. The jump drive was a piece of swag Husband brought home from a work event. The stickers were donated to the school, and I picked up a good stack for classroom use. I paid (sale price) for the calendar, and then La Petite helped me personalize it with bunny photos. The messenger bag, after being marked down once and then on clearance at 70% off, ended up costing me $6. Yes, $6.
And contrary to the evidence below, Buttercup does not go to school with me.

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>The Great Rabbit Escape

>The setting: a quiet home, early Friday morning, almost normal routine
The backstory: La Petite was home from college for a holiday break, bringing her two dwarf rabbits with her. They lived in her bedroom while our regular house bunny (Buttercup) inhabited the rest of the main floor. While we planned to introduce them slowly and carefully, that needed to be handled carefully in a neutral territory and with human supervision. For the time being, the pets had to remain segregated.
Early one Friday morning while La Petite was traveling with friends, I loaded my hands with the necessary delicacies (lettuces, parsley, carrots), and proceeded to feed the furry family members. My usual routine includes feeding Peanut and Sadie first, the two tiny visitors in La Petite’s room, followed by feeding Buttercup and letting her out of her cage for the day. This particular Friday, I reversed that, inadvertently leading to The Great Rabbit Escape.
Peanut, cute as can be and just as devious, slipped out the door and went searching for The Other Bunny. He found her behind the couch, and the fur started flying — literally.
Buttercup, his nemesis, is three times his size and weight. She was destined to win any fight, and I was feeling panicky because I couldn’t reach either of them or move the couch without hurting myself. Peanut soon ran out, followed by Buttercup, and they rolled around again like a couple of tournament-bound wrestlers, emitting territorial ‘gas’ and grunting and growling in a way that only rabbit owners know and recognize. When they rolled their furry frenzy into a small table with enough force to knock it over, I jumped into the fray and grabbed Peanut — all three pounds of him, most of it fur. Oh, and teeth. He sunk his sharp carrot-gnawing tools into the palm of my hand, I yelped, and then he realized the fight was over. Mom had him, and he was safe.
I brought him back to the daughter’s bedroom, let him limp under the bed for his sweet friend Sadie to lick his wounds, and then went out to do triage on the Big One. She was fine, but there was a pretty hefty pile of fur tufts on the rug under the overturned table.
Peanut recovered quickly. I checked on him before school, Husband checked on him before he left for work, and both of us looked him over when we came home from work. He recovered too quickly, in fact. That evening when I took in his food, he tried to sneak out again.
I should have named him Houdini.

This post is my entry in Scribbit’s Write-Away Contest for January. The theme is The Great Escape.

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>Random Holiday Thoughts

>Husband and Amigo are in the den decorating the tree. Husband just came out to me and suggested a blog post based on “Teachers never need (blank)” and ending with “…to buy candles or Christmas ornaments.” I think he just found the box full of student gift ornaments from the past twelve years.

If anyone wonders why our tree lights don’t reach the bottom branches, just remember we have rabbits.

Yes, I wore geek clothes to school today. My students think it’s totally normal for a teacher to wear a Santa turtleneck under a Green Bay Packers sweater. I think they may be right.

My boss is looking for a Wii. She has had no luck in town or online. Any ideas, folks? She’s a terrific mom and really wants to get this for her daughter for Christmas. I suggested a couple of web sites, but she’d already tried them and they were sold out.

I had an odd dream last night. In my dream, a chair got buried in snow on our front porch. Only the top of its back stuck out of the drift. This was not a deck chair or molded plastic polka-dot type thing; it was a nice, wood, straight backed chair. I couldn’t pull it out without breaking it because the snow was so heavy and deep, but I knew that leaving it buried outside for the duration of winter would ruin it. I woke up wondering why I left an indoor chair on the front porch. Our porch is rather small, too — it would have made more sense to leave it on the deck. We’ve had some snow and some bitter cold days, but nothing resembling Boston’s current storm system. Dream analysts, any takers? Or is this another subliminal thought that is best unidentified?

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>Pillow Fight!

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It was pillow against the rabbit, and Buttercup won.
The vacuum cleaner wasn’t happy, either. It coughed and gagged and had to have a new bag installed before we could finish the job. This was, of course, in the midst of Thanksgiving preparations. Naturally, I put the turkey in the oven this morning and then started to clean up the rabbit’s nesting materials. Gee, doesn’t everybody do that on Thanksgiving before the guests arrive? Buttercup, silly bunny, played innocent.
“Who, me? I was napping up here on the couch the whole time.”

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>Bad cookie. Bad, bad cookie.

>La Petite had an adventure a few nights ago with her rabbits finding and attacking a fortune cookie, still in its plastic wrapper. She wrestled it away from them, unwrapped it, and let them go at it so that she could sleep. She never did tell me what their fortune was.
Mocha Momma, a high school dean and coffee aficionado, led me to this site for fun. Warning: the cookies on this site will not predict a lottery win.

My results:

You will become a great bore in your later years.
Well, gentle readers, stick with me now. The posts will likely go downhill as I get older and wider. I mean, wiser.

An evil letter or message is on its way to you.
Spam, begone! Enough already!

Be selfish with your money; trouble lies ahead.
Good thing I finished the Christmas shopping early.

Idleness is the holiday of the wise.
Hmm. I actually like this one. I think I’ll go relax, drink some coffee, and read a book. It’ll feel like a holiday.

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