Bits and pieces

What to post about, what to post about? :)

Not much is going on for me right now besides work and getting ready for fall.

I still enjoy snuggling with the family's latest baby, "Ranger". I have never considered myself a cat person - I'm for dogs all the way! - but Ranger has almost changed my mind. :)

I can't wait for the homeschool co-op to start again - I'm teaching two classes this year, "Writing and Composition" and "Film and Television," both at the upper high school level - but just in case the year doesn't go as smoothly as I anticipate, I'm prepared (see above :)).

This morning, after I was unable to sleep in (my last chance to do so for eight more days, but my body is used to getting up at 5 AM these days), Maggie and I ducked out for a little shopping and lunch date. I had money in my pocket to spend on new shoes for fall, and legitimate reason (it seems like all my shoes save pumps are literally falling apart!), but I couldn't find anything I liked that also fit well. Eep. Time to go to the mall, I guess.

I was in the mood to explore, so we ducked into the new Irish pub in town to check it out. No pictures, as I did not have a camera with me. Unfortunately the menu failed to grab either of us (the most "interesting" thing listed was a grilled chicken breast stuffed with apples and brie with plum sauce, but it was the only interesting thing and was priced quite a bit higher than the rest of the menu). Maggie ended up ordering a pub salad, and I went for the fish and chips. Maggie's salad was a bit of a flop - a very large bowl of lettuce with a few (very few) slices of green pepper and cucumber - but my fish and chips were actually better than the average seafood restaurants' around here. We both fell head over heels in love with their thick steak fries in malt vinegar. I don't know what they do to those potatoes, but goodness! Mmm!

The atmosphere was fun - lots of Irish folk music - but if we returned I think I'd throw "high dining" to the wind and aim for the fried. :)

My car air conditioning lost its oomph this week and though I was only without it for a few days, I am grateful to my dad for recharging it. I have had about enough of summer. I am looking forward to fall, sweaters, and tights!

Sightseeing in D.C.

One of the things I love the most about living in beautiful southern Maryland is being within easy day-trip distance of our nation's capitol. I love the pulse of the city, the opportunity to people-watch, and most of all I love all the knowledge that is within such easy reach within the city. I love to spend a day in the museums and memorials.

Today I was exploring for the first time with my younger siblings Anna (16), Elizabeth and Allen (13), and Ruth (9). This is the first time the kids and I have hit the city sans parents (although my father metroed in later and took us all to dinner after a long day of walking).

In spite of the recent accidents that seem to be plaguing the Metro system, I love the convenience of the system. Here we are departing!

Something about riding Metro never grows old for kids. :)

We were destined for the American History Museum, but the peril of walking in D.C. is that there is always something fascinating that calls for a stop and a perusal... like the sculpture garden, one of my personal favorites. I love the playfulness of many modern sculptures and I'm fascinated by shape and form, period!

I loved this fun take on "The Thinker!"

Something else I love about sculpture is the way it changes as you change positions.

We did finally make it to the American History Museum and the display we came to see - the film and television "Hall of Fame"!

We found Dorothy's slippers...

Kermit the frog (I was sad to discover that none of my siblings had any clue who "Kermie" was!!!)...

And Oscar the Grouch! :)

Downstairs in the Lobby, I found another dear childhood friend! :)

After we finished in the American History Museum and met Dad, several of my siblings wanted to revisit the Natural History Museum. If I had to look at the Hope diamond or dino skeletons one more time, I was going to die... so Ruth and I parted for a quick run through the art gallery!

My favorite display was easily this new display of light and motion called "Multiverse." This is easily worth going to the gallery for alone! Try as I might, I could not get any pictures that came close to capturing the incredible beauty of this piece...

... However, this video at least gives you a sense of it.

Some of the pieces that Ruth and I deemed among our favorites included these geometric-y pieces.

We also found this picture by Jean DuBuffet, titled (very loosely translated) "Facade of a City Block". In fact, we liked it so much that we memorized the artist name so we could come home and google the picture!





This picture is too small to show much detail, but each of the little white spots in the windows is a face with its own personality! It truly captures the idea of a city block!

Maggie and I had visited Chop't during our last trip to D.C. for a concert at Strathmore, and so we walked to Chinatown for dinner.

For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of Chop't, it's like a giant salad bar stuffed with the most awesome of ingredients, like black beans, chickpeas, sesame noodles, grilled tuna, avacado, edamame, hearts of palm, kalamata olives, goat cheese, craisins, and much, much more. You select your lettuce base, pile on the toppings, and the chefs then dice all your tastiness together with a mezzaluna knife (like this one). Everything ends up nicely distributed, so you get a bit of each flavor in each bite!

It was delicious as always. :)

It was a lovely trip, but my poor feet have had it. :) As one of my favorite books as a child ends: "At the end of a long, long day, it's nice to be alone and think about tomorrow."

New Curriculum Review

For the last two years, as I've been teaching various English-related classes through my church's homeschool co-op, I have ended up writing/assembling my own curriculum. This was not for lack of looking for a ready-made curriculum to use - I would have been glad to find one; however, it just seemed that all the curriculae I looked at were either too childish and relied mostly on rote busywork (which I hate as a main learning tool), or too mature or explicit (including themes, language, or analysis that was offensive or just too heady for my younger highschoolers).

For my first class, an introduction to poetry class, I actually spent several weeks writing my own curriculum, complete with workbooks and lesson plans. For the rest of my classes, I ended up selecting my own literature, pairing it with discussion prompts I developed, and writing my own classroom charts, handouts, and worksheets. It worked well - it was tailored exactly to the level and interest of my students - but it was time-consuming.

Imagine my excitement when I attended HEAV this year and discovered Andrew Adams and his Center for Literacy Education! Finally a "curriculum" that I could apply to any piece of literature, complete with teaching method, supplemental materials, and resources. After sitting through two of his seminars and looking through his exhibit table, I ended up buying his Worldview Supplement (including DVD set) for this fall.

I am looking forward to selecting literature to use with this method for the upcoming school year!

"In 2009, Dorothy Speaks Out"

Something that came to me on the drive home from class today...

I am
too tired
to walk the yellow brick road
which stretches on for endless mile upon mile
up hill and down dale,
and besides,
my feet hurt
and these shoes are killing me.

For that matter, I am through with all
but emotionally-stable travel companions.
the Tin Man is insensitive and offends everyone we meet;
I have not had a moment to myself since the severely co-dependent Lion joined us,
and if I turn my back for one second the stupid Scarecrow will hurt himself or me – or both.
Don’t I have enough problems of my own, without babysitting three emotionally-challenged grown men?
Enough. I am done.

Besides that, I am not so sure that trekking down this road to meet the Wizard is the best way to find my place in the world.
This Wizard means well, I’m sure,
but Wizards are people too, and people make mistakes.
I would probably learn more from the experience
if I set out on my own path, my own journey
sought out my own guides of questionable nature
(perhaps write my memoirs when I’m through).

The state of Munchkin society bothers me –
Sure, there were riots of happiness in the street when I ‘liberated’ them from the Witch of the East,
but who’s to say that the vacuum of power will not be filled by another, even less desirable leader?
Besides, who was I to decide that the Witch deserved to die? After all, she
was a person too,
who had family who loved her.

That’s another thing – this sister Witch, the one from the West.
I’m not at all convinced she’s as evil as the Munchkin leaders would have me believe; am I not partially to blame, having killed her sister?
I am sure she is misunderstood,
and that if we could just sit down, woman to woman, and talk things through
that we could reach a peaceful agreement.
(I am sure her attacks so far have merely been in retaliation for my perceived crimes, and that if I assured her of my peaceful intentions to withdraw just as soon as possible, she would immediately lay down her arms.)

All in all, I am fed up with the whole state of affairs,
these poppies are so soft,
and I am so tired…

As Published In Connections - "When I..."

My introduction for the Connections reading:
Poet Lucille Clifton wrote a poem called "the lost baby poem" in which she speaks to her unborn child, her "almost-child," and thinks about the life it would have had if it had been born. If you believe, as I do, that life begins at conception and that we are all "fearfully and wonderfully made," then the loss of a child, even an unborn child, is a tragic loss, made all the more painful if the child was wanted and loved. I have several siblings who were lost in utero, and I've seen firsthand the very real pain that surrounds the loss of an unborn child.
On the other hand, I am reminded of a line from one of my favorite musicals, Steven Sondheim's "Into The Woods," where a not-so-wicked-witch reminds us that "wishes are children." Children are symbols of endless possibility, unrealized potential, and those of us who have not experienced firsthand the loss of a child have probably nourished a dream, a wish, that became so real to us that we felt we could touch it, "take it in [our] arms," only to wake up one day and realize that that dream was not to be.

When I
exhausted, weary beyond endurance,
fell into my bed, and my head hit the pillow,
I dreamed of a dark-haired babe
with eyes like hazelnuts,
dimples like the dips in chocolate candy
who laughed when she saw me, that laughter
reserved for the one called "mother."
And I took her in my arms,
my heart warm,
and kissed the downy head,
felt the softness of her skin against my own.
Then I awoke, suddenly, confused,
wondering at the ache in my empty arms.

"Echoes"

We are God’s fingerprints
And of fingerprints, they tell us no two are alike
(God must have many fingers).
I scream to the world, to you,
a rant of humanity –
love, despair, hope, deepest longing –
you understand me, and my soul is soothed.
Funny how, though we fight for our individuality
our originality, our singularity
what we really want to know
is when we scream into the night
that what comes back
are not
echoes.

An Untitled Poem

I recently submitted a slew of poetry to Connections Literary Magazine, a local literary magazine published by my college. It occurred to me after I submitted that I loved every poem equally, so I honestly couldn't guess which one they might choose. One was selected, but since I love them all, I thought I'd post the "runners up" here :). If anyone is interested in coming to see/hear me read the poem that was selected, details for the reading are on the Connections website.

Far away, an earthly rhythm, one that stirs the heart
to thoughts of You, pulses beneath the sky.
The ancient music-makers –
the harp, the flute, the fiddle –
all seem to be one, in accord
with Your perfect holiness.
Perhaps that’s why the music of such beauty breaks our hearts
reminds us of what we lost, tossed aside in pursuit of temporal lusts.
We raise our voices, fit our lips to divine sound
and our fingers to the instruments
and fall short,
our souls longing for the heavenly, ne’er ending music,
for home,
and that we, too, as Your instruments,
might be tuned to Your heart.