>I am teacher: who am I?

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The knowledge bases of a professional teacher are many, diverse, and complex; and skillful teaching requires systematic and continual study of these knowledge bases.



Wow. Did I realize the depth of my profession when I chose this field? I can only answer that with another question: does anyone in teacher training truly realize the skill needed, the complex knowledge bases (not just base), and the continual study it will require?

Teaching changes as children change, as society changes, as our economic system changes, and as our future changes. Perhaps you’ve heard people talk about the way many modern jobs and careers did not exist when the professionals in the fields were in elementary school. I’m not sure the general public understands the complexity – wait. Strike that, reverse it. I’m sure that most members of the general public have no idea of the complexity in every day of teaching.

On that note, I think I’d better quit blogging and sign up for next summer’s continuing education course. I’m looking at differentiation techniques for teaching talented and gifted students. They’re in my class, in my neighborhood, and in our world. These are the quick learners, the voracious readers, and often the neglected students left to learn on their own as we assist the lower achievers. To add to another knowledge base, add to my diverse repertoire, I’m seeking systematic and continual study: again.

Quote from The Skillful Teacher by Saphier, Haley-Speca, and Gower.

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>The next cycle in Washers and Dryers

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>Dear Readers;

We need you. Yes, we. Chuck and I are finalizing plans for a remodel of our upstairs bathroom and (drum roll) moving the laundry machines into our second floor. We have to make final decisions regarding those appliances, and we need advice. Your advice. Yes, you. Here’s the situation.

I’m planning to buy a front-loading washer. I’ve done the research, and that type of washer will meet our needs and save water and detergent in the process. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Now: the plot thickens.

Pedestal or no pedestal?
I’m pushing 50. Yes, 50. My back isn’t as young and strong as it once was.
It would mean less bending, less reaching to put the laundry in the machines and take it out.
The pedestals also provide a storage drawer under the washer and dryer.

But…
Storage shelves above the appliances would be quite high, and I’m (ahem) short.
One pedestal costs about $200-$240. Two (one for the washer, one for the dryer) will run us at least $400. Ouch. Is it worth the investment?

Gas or Electric dryer?
Gas dryers are more energy efficient than electric: both green and frugal.

But…
Gas dryers are more expensive to purchase ($80-$100 more than electric).
Gas costs a little more right now than electricity.
Is gas efficient enough to counter these two costs? Will we make back our investment?

To stack or not to stack?
Stacked washer and dryer will allow for more space on the floor: a drying rack, perhaps, and/or access to a window.
We’re approaching (slowly, we admit it) the empty nest. We won’t need extra large capacity appliances for long.

But…
Side by side appliances can be larger capacity. The stackable models are somewhat smaller.
Larger capacity would let me wash blankets at home, avoiding the semi-annual laundromat adventures.
Weight. Can our old (1890) home support stacked appliances?
Vibration. Will the vibration of a washer, in particular, cause a problem?

Well, readers, please weigh in. What are your experiences with front loading washing machines? Gas or electric dryers? Pedestals? Stacked washer/dryer combinations? We need advice. Please leave your knowledge and expertise in the comments.

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>Weekend Greenings, er, Gleanings

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>The grass that’s peeking out of the melting snowbanks is brown, not green. If you’re looking for green, try these sites.

Eco-Women, Protectors of the Planet, are celebrating a birthday and hosting giveaways. Go enter! But not too many times, please – I’d like a chance at winning the tote bag.

Mother Nature Network talks about natural, non-chemical cleansers. Do they really work?

Green Girl, rather than echoing my sentiments on health care, speaks clearly and carries a walking stick.

At the Green Phone Booth, Jenn the Green Mom is planning her garden while she waits for the snow to melt.

Judy from Royal Ranch continues to introduce members of her “royalty” every Sunday.

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>Photoworks and Baby Phun

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Babies and pictures and photo albums go together like a horse and carriage, peanut butter and jelly, or green eggs and ham.

I have a new baby niece, so when Mom Central asked if I’d like to try out the new Photoworks site and build a baby book, well, of course I said, “Please, pretty please, may I?” Then I gathered all the photos I have of our new little sweetie and uploaded them to the site.

Uploading was easy. I created a login and password, chose my book style, and then filled my own photo album with any and all potential book pictures. Placing the photos in the book was as easy as ABC, 1-2-3, do-re-mi, or drop and drag.

As soon as I got started, I recruited La Petite to help out. She’s the most talented photographer and layout pro in the family, so I shared my password and let her go to town. But people, you don’t have to be a tech expert or a professional photographer to make this work. Photoworks albums are simple to make and produce high quality results.

And that just gives me another excuse to visit and take more photos of our cute little dumpling!


I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central on behalf of American Greetings PhotoWorks and received a free photo book to facilitate my review. I feel lucky to be a part of this tour; it’s such good timing for my extended family.

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>Health Coverage for all – are you listening, Congress?

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>One of the best posts I’ve read about making health coverage available to all: Erin at Queen of Spain talks about her day in the ER.

I saw a news feature about a new treatment for head lice; it’s safer and greener, a method that suffocates the little bugs rather than kills them. Avoiding pesticides on children’s heads? Good. Bad? It’s only available by prescription. Families I’ve known who’ve been repeatedly re-infected haven’t had health insurance. If payday was recent enough, they’d head to the drugstore for an over-the-counter remedy and hoped it would work. Meanwhile, their kids miss school until all the nits can be stripped using the proverbial fine-toothed comb.

Two kids talking on their way to recess:
Student 1: “Mrs. Teacher, do you know anything about insurance? Like doctors? Doesn’t everyone have that?”
Student 2: “My mom doesn’t. She wants to get a good job so she can go to the doctor when she’s sick.”
Two ten-year-olds bringing health care coverage into their real lives: what’s wrong with this picture? One was a middle-class child, two working parents with good benefits in their jobs. The other was a child of a recent divorce and a tough time financially. Both were hardworking children of hardworking parents. Why should one family have coverage and the other not?

Erin (a.k.a. Queen of Spain) was lucky; she could drive directly to the ER without a second thought.

Remember the signs at the Vancouver Olympics? You know, after the USA surprised Canada’s hockey team by beating them 5-3 in the first round.

Heck, now they have a gold medal, too. When will the U.S. find its gold medal health care? Please don’t tell me that only time will tell; we need it now.

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>Honey, I broke the shredder.

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>I’ve been cleaning and purging the basement shelves, determined not to be a hoarder. Every time I’m waiting for the washer to fill and the detergent to dissolve, I find another basement box and attack it. I’ve managed to find and freshen books that go to school or Goodwill or Paperbackswap.com, clothes that are not suitable for anyone in the house (why did I keep these?) and go to Goodwill, and more. I’ve cleaned shelves, buckets, boxes, and done so thoughtfully. Last weekend I found an old (read: older than Amigo) box of cancelled checks.

The checks were from a savings and loan that no longer exists. It converted to a bank, then merged with another, and by now I’m sure it’s been swallowed so far it’s unrecognizable. The checks date back to the days when people would get their cancelled checks back in the mail: paper checks. Honestly, you youngsters, that’s the way it was.

I looked them over. I recognized our favorite stores for groceries and sundries. The day care centers for the young La Petite and the younger Amigo. I saw the various styles of checks and remembered that we used to take turns choosing the design each time we reordered. Teddy bears, bright colors, trains, coffee motifs, initial monograms – it was like walking through a photo album of our interests many years ago.

The account number would be irrelevant; the account was closed long ago. The address and phone number would be fifteen years outdated as well. But the checks contained our drivers’ license numbers, and I wasn’t sure if there were other identifying numbers handwritten on the memo lines.

That left the shredder. I got through about three years worth of old auto loans and everyday expenses when the shredder shrugged and shuddered and announced with a groan that it was done. I unplugged it and let it rest, thinking maybe the fine appliance was just overheated. Chuck gently tugged scraps from the blades with a needle nose pliers. The shredder works now, but only for a few sheets of paper. Destroying the rest of the checks would take months at this rate.

What to do? We did the only thing left: we lit a fire in the fireplace. Chuck crumpled the checks and added one small pile at a time to the fire. We joked about burning money. We enjoyed the ambiance and watched the Closing Ceremonies while our old money burned.

I can’t imagine the next box from the basement will contain the memories – or the challenges – that this one did. Readers, what have you found when you’ve cleaned and purged? Anything challenging? Interesting? Please share in the comments!

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>Chili in the pot

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The Twitter Moms organization was looking for recipes that used canned food. My first reaction was to offer up the easy fruit cobbler made with a can of any fruit. It’s easy and delicious.

Then I read the directions. The request and the resulting contest called for a dish using at least two canned food items. This was a little harder in my pseudo-locavore home, but not impossible. One of my standards, crock-pot chili, uses several cans. I like it with homemade tomato sauce, but I rarely have sufficient tomato crop to make it that way for long. Chili is my standby when I have meetings or classes after teaching all day. Grandma comes over, adds the noodles, and serves it up with whatever side dish Amigo wants. In fact, to give credit where credit is due, “my” crock-pot chili was hers first.

The next requirement was to watch this video about canned food. At 10 minutes it was a little long for my taste (I’d rather read than watch videos), but I did see some interesting facts. My favorite part was the timeline in the beginning showing the history of canned food preservation. Did you know that early canned food sustained the Napoleonic Army? I didn’t, either. And that canned food was (supposedly) safe to eat after nuclear testing, making it the Thing To Have on the shelves in case of nuclear attack? Nope, I didn’t have that little piece of info, either.

But that’s not why I make chili. I keep the staples for making crock-pot chili in my pantry year round. Here it is:

Daisy’ Mom’s Crock-Pot Chili

1 can red beans (kidney beans, chili beans, or other)
1 can tomatoes (I like Red Gold diced with chilis)
1 lb. ground beef or turkey, browned (leftover sloppy joe meat or meatsauce from spaghetti works, too)
1 tablespoon chili powder
1/4 cup red and/or green peppers
1/4 cup diced onion
1 large can tomato sauce (or leftover spaghetti sauce: you get my drift, it varies)

Place ingredients in crock-pot in that order. Cook on low for 8-10 hours or on high for 4-6 hours. In true Wisconsin style, I add 1 cup elbow macaroni or pasta shells about an hour before serving.
Serve with grated cheese (I said it’s Wisconsin!) or sour cream on top. Mmmmmm.

This is not a sponsored post. It is an entry in a contest on Twitter Moms. In fact, I’m not entirely sure the widget will work; I have yet to successfully upload a TM widget to Compost Happens. Well, here goes!

Watch the Field to Table Video


Canned Food Alliance

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>Creativity; the kind I’d rather avoid.

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>Oh, lovely day. My students are expanding their outlook in a way I’d rather they didn’t.

They have a new vocabulary word. The word is Hob knocker; if you look this word up there are several definitions:

A Hob Knocker is a person that is considered cool but in a nerdy geekish kind of way. (Nickelodeon Definition)
Hob Knocker: one who goes around hitting people in their privates. (true English Definition)
Another definition is that one goes around hitting others WITH their privates. (true English Definition)

Student definition: it means someone that walks around, acts cool, does drugs and smokes.

What will they think of next? No, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know.

In other news, I intercepted the following note between two students.

R we going 2 play puppies at morning recess?
do you love me?

OMG! They’re only 10 years old! Between the HobKnockers and the puppies and the young love, they don’t leave much to chance.

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>A thousand words on work-home balance

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If a picture is worth a thousand words, this post is actually worth five thousand words toward illustrating a typical weekend’s to-do list and the feeling of ta-dah! when it’s done.

First: the laundry room with work in progress.
Next item on the list, but going on concurrently with laundry: schoolwork. Reading papers, math tests, all in need of correcting and then recording in the gradebook. Thank goodness for remote access; I can record all of these scores while watching the Olympics!
Ah, the good feeling when work is nearly done. Below are three baskets full of clean and folded clothes: one for me, one for Amigo, one for Chuck. If you look closely, there’s a stray dryer ball in Chuck’s basket. It got stuck in the sleeve of his sweater. Oops!

And finally, the table is empty of school papers! They’re all corrected, scored, recorded, and packed in my schoolbag for Monday. The package in the back is a to-be-mailed pack with two books requested from Paperbackswap.com. I included them with the schoolwork because they’re both teacher books.


Did I say the table was clear? Cleared of school files, but not totally clear. While waiting for the washer to fill and the detergent to dissolve (oh, I lead such an exciting life), I’ve been (are you ready for this?) purging the clutter on the basement shelves. Today I found an ancient, older-than-Amigo box of cancelled checks. They’re destined for the shredder now, if the old shredder can handle the volume. Maybe I should just start a fire in the fireplace; the job might go faster!

Uh, yes, that’s a gin and tonic beside the checks. Don’t judge me; the lime is a good source of vitamin C.

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>I failed Eat-In Week.

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>Yes, I did. I confess. It was timing, really. I couldn’t make it happen. Here you are: the excuses.

I had three evening commitments on top of teaching the full week. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday night were all staff development or class nights. When I have one of those nights in a week or even two, it’s time to bring out the crockpot. Three? No time to prepare the crock, much less plug it in for the day.

Results: I bought myself deep fried cheese curds (stop laughing; they’re a delicacy in Wisconsin during the winter) after a three hour class in analyzing running records for reading instruction. The second night of classes Amigo went out to a (local) fast food joint for a perch-wich and fries. The third (well, really the first night) Husband had a day off and cooked, for which I am very grateful. Without him, it might have been frozen pizza – or worse.

I normally treat myself to a Jo to Go coffee on the occasional (I admit it, frequent) Friday mornings. The rest of the week I set the kitchen coffeemaker and bring my own little thermos to school. I’ve built a good habit of saving money and reusing my thermos and coffee mugs. This week? I’ve been through the drive-through three times. Three. They’re starting to greet me with “The usual?” instead of “Can I help you?”

When I did cook, it was wimpy. A can of soup instead of homemade, frozen chicken patties on buns, leftover potato wedges (I did make them, they were good) and a can of baked beans. This is not my usual locavore standard. The most creative dinner was Sunday’s casserole: leftover spicy rice, cream of mushroom soup, a handful of frozen peas and a chicken breast cooked up together.

I made my own lunch four days and made a second sandwich to take to class Thursday night. But then… I ordered out with the rest of the staff on Friday. We do it as a team; order from a sub shop or restaurant that delivers, varying the place each week. This week, despite Eat In Week, I’m joining the order-out crowd.

Confessions aside, this week is unusual. Since I began moving our family to a more local and fresher food supply, we’ve cooked largely at home. A meal out is an occasion, not an everyday deal. A Special Week isn’t really the reason we eat in at our house; it’s a philosophy that’s becoming routine. Eat In Week, for all its good intentions, is just another gimmick. The real good comes from making eating in the norm, not the exception.

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