And the Race is On!

Nana and Papa left this afternoon from Colorado to come visit us for Christmas. Papa sent a text message with an audio clip of "On the Road Again." It's Papa's signature roadtrip song.

They're already in Texas, about 50 miles out of Amarillo, so the question is--Will they get here before we finish cleaning the house? Factor in that Tabitha, Clara, Gemma, and Violet have made it their personal mission to UNclean every room right after we've finished cleaning it.

Growing Up

This is Zoe in the outfit she wore to the BPA awards ceremony tonight. She didn't win any awards, but I'm certainly proud of her for participating. She bought the skirt with her very own babysitting money. I'm proud of her for that, too. Those shoes? They're mine. Zoe, Eve, and I all share shoes now, which is pretty neat, except when I can't find my shoes because one of the girls is wearing them.

Jingle Bells, Questionable Version

Gemma has spent most of the evening playing with an Alphabet Learning Center. At the bottom, it has a little keyboard with ten keys, numbered 1 to 10. Juliet told Gemma that she knows how to play songs, and proceded to play a fairly accurate version of Jingle Bells. I was impressed, and asked her if she'd just figured it out. She proudly explained that her music teacher had taught it to her (dashing my sudden dreams of having a musical prodigy for a daughter...oh, well). "I'll have to ask her to write it down tomorrow," Juliet said. "All I can remember is..." and then she began to sing: "666 666 67456." She's been walking around the house for the last half-hour singing, "666 666." It's such a good thing that I'm not superstitious!

In other news, Juliet made the highest grade in her class the other day on a practice FCAT test. We're all very proud of her! She may not be a musical genius, but she can read well!! Oh, and she can dance and sing beautifully, so maybe she is a musical genius after all. Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. :)

The Next Faulkner

Not just brains, but looks and personality, too. She's the whole package, baby!

Sophia, who just turned ten, is becoming an amazing little writer, thanks, I'm sure, to her predilection for reading. Anyway, this is an anecdote Sophia's fourth grade class was assigned to write as FCAT practice (gotta love the FCAT). The teacher had the principal read the paper, and he asked Sophia to read it on the morning announcements (which is now broadcast to every classroom via television, unlike when I was in school). Without further ado, here is Sophia's beautiful anecdote, without any editing at all.

I looked up. Hovering over us was a cart. Suddenly, it dropped. My stomach tightened. My siblings sqealed. This would be ride of the night. It was Mt. Everest. We got there two minutes later. "Here we go!" He shouted, clamoring into the cart. A second later, I was plunged into darkness, a deep, writhing darkness. Were those eyes over there? I didn't know. We were heading towards a white, blinding light. I blinked. Suddenly, we were sliding into the darkness. When the darkness enveloped me, I lurched forward. I was falling...and suddenly, the ride was over. For Now!

Look at her spelling and use of commas! Notice the verbs and adjectives she uses: hovering, tightened, squealed, clamoring, plunged, writhing, enveloped. Yes, I'm very proud. I'm going to take this to work and show it off to my fellow secondary English teachers. In fact, I can think of a lot of tenth graders who could learn from this. :(

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Well, it's that time of year again. This season is riddled with stress and worry. There's so much to do and not enough time. That's right...grades are due. At the end of every grading period, I wonder why I decided to major in English. Why couldn't I be a math teacher? Grading must be so easy for math teachers. 452...correct. 32.5...correct. 19 3/4...wrong. Not so for poor English teachers. I've got mountains of papers to grade, and there simply isn't enough time to give each student's work the in-depth criticism it deserves. It gets irritating to find the same mistakes over and over and over ad nauseum, even though I've told them over and over and over how to avoid comma splices and misplaced modifiers. Of course, there is a bright side to grading papers. I really get to know my students through their writing, which is a definite advantage over math teachers. Right? *sigh*

Saint Judas by James Wright

When I went out to kill myself, I caught
A pack of hoodlums beating up a man.
Running to spare his suffering, I forgot
My name, my number, how my day began,
How soldiers milled around the garden stone
And sang amusing songs; how all that day
Their javelins measured crowds; how I alone
Bargained the proper coins, and slipped away.

Banished from heaven, I found this victim beaten,
Stripped, kneed, and left to cry. Dropping my rope
Aside, I ran, ignored the uniforms:
Then I remembered bread my flesh had eaten,
The kiss that ate my flesh. Flayed without hope,
I held the man for nothing in my arms.