Today I saw my gradebook. I saw papers that less than thrilled me. I'm just astonished that students think their teachers are so stupid. They share information on a take home assignment and I can see the degradation and transcription errors that mount.
Holy Sepulchre became Tidy Sepulchre. Minaret became minoerots. Through four students' chapter handouts, I could see who copied whom. When asked to define "anchorite" one kid thought for himself and said "I think it is some kind of rock." I sure like that better than having a triptych defined as a triglyph. JESUS can't they READ? I admit that the words are similar, but a lot of words are similar. From and Form are very similar but they don't mean the same thing. Flautist and Flatulist look similar but there is a big difference between playing the flute and performing with farts.
Things are such a big mess. The Powers That Be are trying to rid our school of excellent components. It's hard to educate children in a large urban district. I cannot imagine having to administer 165000 students. Still, do you break what's working? /me screams from the peanut gallery "NOOOOOOOO"
My friend StarVenus is more radical. She advocates interaction between large knives and testicles. She gets really creative when she gets wound up. I admire her creativity with regard to such things. It makes me feel better sometimes.
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I continue my reading quest for the year. I just finished book #6. It was FUN. Very early Jane Austen that wasn't published until 1922. It's very superficial and juvenile, fraught with misspelled words and unique situations.
My favorite bit of text. . . Sophia to Laura "Beware of swoons, Dear Laura... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is, I dare say, conducive to Health in its consequences -- Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint --"
Full Text is available here!
I need to check Librivox to see if they have it. I've enjoyed downloading audio books from them. I love it that all the public domain stuff is free. I'm a geek for 19th century BritLit and have put some of them on my ipod to listen to so I can fall asleep with stories.
I'm trying to decide if I want to gain more on my goal of reading a book a week in 2008 and pick up the other Jane Austen I got the other day or if I want to delve into A Feast for Crows which will surely take me a month (knowing how much time I get to read any given day).
I like to read in the car. Especially if Mark is driving. He thinks it is rude of me. I think it saves me from palpitations. He IS a good driver, but he scares the crap out of me (along with the other nuts driving on highways around Dallas) so I ride much more comfortably if I can focus on something other than where we are going. He wants me to pay attention to him (he's glorious) and I understand that I should. I just want to postpone a cardiac arrest. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, and doesn't scream near as many profanities, but I can remember saying that he would piss someone on the road off and they would shoot ME. I do recall that yahoo in the pickup that showed us his gun!!
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Rachael had a birthday Saturday. I didn't do an angstful diatribe about her origin on her birthday. Rachael sets her own time to do what Rachael wants. I needed to wait until I was ready!
She cut off her hair! I got it in a priority mail package. I guess that was the gentlest way she could say "Hey Mom, I cut all my hair off." I've just been aghast. She hasn't had short hair since she had hair.
I got this picture in my mind of what her short darker dyed hair would look like. When I saw her Monday, it looked exactly what I thought it would look like. It's astonishing. I tried to imagine her with short dark hair (I knew there would be some red in the dark) and that's what it looked like. She looks fabulous. She looks an awful lot like my mother. (That's a REALLY good thing!)
She really should have been born on January 17. It would have made so many people happy for her to have that birthday. It was my great-grandmother's birthday AND my grandmother's birthday and they were both still living at the time, but NOOOO, the damn Polish doctor refuses to induce a pregnancy that is over two weeks late already. He tells me to wait until Monday.
Rachael is on Rachael time. Sunday morning, she makes it apparent that Monday is not for her. The zodiac is racing towards Aquarius and that will just not do. Our neighbors had offered to watch older sisters when the time came but they were Godly people and were at church. Mark frantically calls his folks and TELLS them that we've got to drop the girls off because we've GOT to go to the hospital. They seemed to be inconvenienced by this, but I didn't really care at this point. We get to the hospital about 11 am and the place is empty. There is a big playoff game, I mean it's Sunday. They make me walk around for an hour thinking that they can send me home (at 20 days overdue) with false labor. It doesn't work out for them and they have to admit me. They don't believe me when I tell them that it will all go very fast after a certain point. The whole wonderful birthing experience is a comedy of errors. Rachael is posterior, and suddenly turns around on her way into the world. That's not terrible but she falls off the fetal monitors and the nurses think she's died and are talking about preparation for a "fetal demise." The doctor has gone downstairs to eat and a nurse is running through the hallways trying to find someone with a catcher's mitt. Mark is freaking out because he hears the nurses and he's caught the word "demise." I hold his hand and say "baby, it's okay, I can feel her moving."
I don't think it's supposed to work that way. He's supposed to hold my hand and tell ME it's okay.
Rachael precipitates her way into the world right after kickoff. They put her on the warming table and she immediately turns over, almost flipping herself onto the floor because they didn't put the little gate thing up (I guess newborns flipping over isn't usually an issue). The doctor said "put that in her baby book."
Rachael continues to do what she wants to do. She knows her own mind. She is an unstoppable force and gives notice to the immovable wall.
How cool is that?