It was a major assignment: a timeline covering about 200 years of early United States history. Some used poster board; others taped letter paper end to end. This student found a perfect piece of paper at home and used the back of it.
Quite an impression-ist
If you’re wondering, the timeline on the back was excellent. She earned an A.
Alternate title: Frustration on the Job.
This is the transcript from an actual phone conversation Chuck had recently.
“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts. How may I help you?”
Hi this is Chuck from W-blank-blank-blank out in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I need to place an order for a part please.
“OK, the guy you need to talk to is busy and can’t help you right now…And it’s me. Can I forward you to my voicemail? Please leave a message and I’ll call you back next time I’m in.”
Ummm…OK.
Click, Ring, Click, Recorded voice…
“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts. I’m not in right now, please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” Beep.
Hi this is Chuck from W— out in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I need to place an order for a part please.
You can call me back at ###-###-####.
Later, my phone rings…
Hello, W-blank-blank-blank Engineering, this is Chuck.
“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts. How may I help you?”
Hi, thanks for calling back, I’m with W-blankety-blank-blank out in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I need to place an order for a part please.
Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, at least in the television world. Meanwhile, back at my own workplace, I received the following email from Chuck.
Just got call from contractor. He’s going to start 7:30 Wednesday morning.
My Wednesday is crowding up. It’s becoming The Time Nexus; the day through which all other events must pass through.
I may need your help Tuesday evening as I deflect at least one black hole. I’ll buy you dinner at the Restaurant at the Edge of the Universe.
Well, my friends, life changed very quickly. Chuck developed a sudden excruciating pain that turned out to be a kidney stone or two, and his coworkers ended up handling the Black Hole in the Time Nexus. We waited until he was feeling better, and then we did visit a restaurant – one near home, not at the end of the universe. After a salad with bacon dressing followed by pumpkin bread pudding, both of us felt ready to face the big bad world again.
Test Booklets en masse
This is the last year for the boxes upon boxes of test booklets. We’re not done testing, by any means, but the tests themselves are changing. Next year, when we’re all set up, I’m sure I’ll post an overview. In the meantime, I guess we’ll just reminisce about The Way Testing Was.
I teach in a public virtual charter school, an online school, and my students live all over the state of Wisconsin. Since we can’t expect all of them to come to us, we go to them for the required tests. After a day of laundry and raking leaves, I put on my test season sweatshirt (above), packed my bags, and got ready to go.
In the morning, students armed with number 2 pencils will arrive, ready to attack their test booklets.
I hope they all remember that multiple choice items have only one answer, and they should make their marks heavy and dark.
Yoga Break!
…I watched as my colleague led the high school students in a few sun salutations. Now that’s a test break!
A few days ago, I mentioned having oodles and oodles of not noodles, but tomatoes. I even mentioned a few suggestions. Here you go, folks, the results of Daisy’s Overabundance of Ripe Tomatoes!
Lotsa Salsa!
I do mean a lot, too. It took two sessions in the hot water bath canner – my big one! – to process all of it.
In the category of “It’s only weird if it doesn’t work” (Thanks, Budweiser), we have Eating the Opponent, Philadelphia: Tomato Pie!
Tomato Pie!
Well, it didn’t work. The game against the Eagles was a disaster in many ways. I might make the tomato pie again some day, though. It was good. I served it with diced Golden Delicious apples from a farm stand near La Petite’s abode in Lake Geneva.
The calendar may say November, but we’re still eating goodies that were grown locally or nearly so, including tomatoes from my own backyard. Click your heels three times, now, and say, “There’s nothing like homegrown tomatoes. There’s nothing like…” Or something like that.
Facebook just can’t let me be me. The pretend personality behind the site keeps asking questions, almost like posing a meme for a blog blast.
What’s on your mind? Why, thank you for asking, Facebook. I thought no one cared. But to be honest, FB, I usually air my deepest thoughts on my blog or to my network on Plurk, rather than share it in the most public place possible. And yes, indeed, FB, despite the privacy settings, I’m certain that much more of the private me gets out to the public than I realize.
What’s really on my mind, you might wonder? Too Many Tomatoes, that’s what. Famous last words of mine: Oh, I don’t need to store them in newspaper or a paper bag to slow the ripening process. We’ll just eat them or cook them as they ripen.
I have so many tomatoes that I need to make something, and fast, before they rot. That’s the last word.
So I asked Da Boyz, a.k.a. Amigo and Chuck, whether I should put together another batch of tomato sauce or salsa, and they answered — Tomato Pie!
What? Tomato pie? I gave in and looked it up. Courtesy of Zorba Paster’s Heart Healthy Recipes, we’re having Tomato Pie for Eating the Opponent: Philadephia.
And I still have enough left over for a generous batch of salsa.
As heard on Halloween Day —
“I am the Count from Sesame Street. ONE timeline portfolio graded! TWO timeline portfolios graded! Bwahahahahaha!”
“All I can say is there had better be chocolate at home. Wait – it’s Halloween! There IS chocolate at home!”
Why yes, I do work with teachers. Need you ask?
Trick or treaters in costume looking over the pit next to the porch — “Hey, is someone buried there?” No, it’s just yet another step in recovering from last spring’s disaster: the porch sank in the saturated ground. Contractors came yesterday to build up the foundation.
And so it goes, Halloween at the O.K. Chorale.
Disclaimer: this is NOT my garage.
Charred spot formerly known as Compost
My dear, darling brother sent this picture along with a warning and a story. It’s not his garage, either, thank goodness. One of his friends sent it around.
“Small fire on the back side of my garage. Learned that the compost pile shouldn’t be that close to the garage and that old ashes from a fire pit should never be put in the compost. Fire captain said even 3 weeks later. He also said he has seen where a cigarette butt weeks later in mulch can catch fire.”
Wow! Bummer, indeed. I have dumped fireplace ashes on our brush pile and occasionally in the big compost bin. I always think, “these are cold ashes, no heat at all.”
The big bin isn’t up against our garage. It is, however, rather near my neighbor’s woodpiles. I guess we’d better give this some thought. Ashes to compost, safe or not? Readers, what kind of experiences have you had with fireplace and fire pit ashes and compost?
She has a system. Or, I should say, we have a system for her. It’s ridiculous, and it actually works sometimes.
Back up. Reverse, restart. I’m talking about NFL predictions. My family makes picks each week before the Thursday night game. I used to be pretty good at this, but I’ve been outscored recently by (drum roll) our rabbit.
The column on the right has her total.
Buttercup the rabbit “has” a system. We write down her picks according to the team mascot and whether a rabbit would like it or not. For example, she’ll pick the Cowboys over the Lions and the Broncos over the Redskins. If the team name represents a species that hunts or eats rabbits, she chooses the other one. She always picks the Packers. If the Falcons play the Eagles, we’re really out of luck.
Another week, another set of picks
I won that time; Buttercup tied with the dear sweet man of the house. Amigo, surprisingly, isn’t doing well this year.
Chuck won last week.
Amigo and I tied last week, and not for first. Who knows what’s next? So far this week, I’m in the lead. Come on Packers, do right for me!
I “borrowed” this from a FB friend.
In my line of work, virtual schooling, there’s quite a bit of creativity – all born in cubicles. It helps that we can personalize our fabric cubes.
One way to proclaim my NFL allegiance
My paper clip holders give a nod to a classic Wisconsin book.
Confession: I haven’t been there. I bought the tin cups at a rummage sale.
The bookshelf displays remind me of what I do.
And the photocopied cartoon reminds me of who I am.
I found this on Pinterest. Someone else has the same mini greenhouse I have! And they must not have a bunny, because they can use all the shelves! And…and… they have a whole big harvest of green tomatoes, too!
Tomatoes!
Yep. Just like me. Almost.
Two things money can’t buy —
True love and fried green tomatoes!