tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10895849680848593882024-02-07T10:38:21.801-08:00Mia's BoysMia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.comBlogger432125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-9464708929755454802012-08-26T06:00:00.000-07:002012-08-26T06:00:03.309-07:00My Scottness Monster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Child protective services showed up at our house. Only Tommy was home, but at 12 years old, we were <i>pretty sure</i>
we were on solid legal ground leaving him there for a few hours. The
worker told Tommy she "just wanted to know the truth", which left Tommy
somewhat flummoxed. "Sure!" he replied.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While
Erik and I counted down our frontmost marginal parenting decisions of
the past few weeks (the list was surprisingly long and varied...an
impressive array of missteps and mistakes), he made an appointment for
the worker to come back and talk to him and the boys, both alone and
separate. I was working, and although I was curious....I wasn't <i>too </i>worried. Turned out it was about Scotty, and the alarm had to have been sounded by summer camp the week before.</div>
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When
the worker showed up, she explained that Scotty had spilled some water
at camp and severely over reacted. Crying, scared, etc. When the camp
counselor questioned him, and tried to reassure him that this was not a
tragedy, Scotty burst out with, "I get hit! My brother gets hit! My mom
gets hit!" Which, really, is only tragically, hilariously funny because
none of those things is true. Erik literally laughed when she told him.</div>
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<br /></div>
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"He's
just talking. [did not add: out his ass] You'll understand when you
meet him." He left the room and went to play guitar while she talked to
the kids. He left the door open and could hear her laughing. "Scotty,
are you afraid of anything?" Scotty: "Yes! Have you seen the big yellow
tractor at Yolore's house!" </div>
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<br /></div>
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File marked "unfounded" complaint. </div>
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It's hard to explain Scotty. He's a
very quirky, unusual kid. But if you meet him...well, no explanation
needed. :D He has an insane vocabulary, that he uses totally
appropriately. Example: We were at the top of the ferris wheel,
overlooking the fair. What six year old wouldn't say "I'm looking for
Aunt Karen"? Scotty: "I'm trying to locate Karen." When he sees a red
mini van: "That's a version of your car, just a different color." When
he's done: "Set a course for home." (Trekies unite!) </div>
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<br /></div>
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He
practices Extreme Walking and will move furniture all over the house so
he can bounce and twist and flip his way through without ever touching
the floor. He exhibits mild (in some cases) to moderate (in most cases)
OCD behaviors. My brother has called him Monk, after the slightly
obsessed tv character, since Scotty was two years old.</div>
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He's
obsessed with death and dying, and earnestly needs me to reassure him,
not occasionally, that human beings can, in fact, live to be 100. But I
always gently add, "Scotty...everybody dies. If you live, you have to
die. It's nothing to be afraid of. The important thing is to love each
other with all the days we're given." I always tell him this while I
hold his hand. Yet, when a small mouse (meant to be eaten by the
classroom snake) passed away before he could be swallowed, Scotty cried
over his cage and told me it was "his destiny" to use his "energies" to
help the dead mouse. He shut his eyes tight and said "I will give some
of my life, so he can live." Sometimes, all a mama can do is hug a boy
tight and whisper "shhhh" in his ear.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My mom tells me he's indulged and
thinks he's the way he is because somehow, he's spoiled? I still don't
understand it, actually. He is who he is; marvelously, gloriously,
impossibly different Scotty, and very often, I don't know <i>what</i> to say
or do with him...but I love him even when I can't understand him, and I
try hard not to be impatient with his quirky ways, even when he's so
different from me I don't know how to start. He hates change. The first
day of anything causes such anxiety and panic in him that he slowly
decombusts over his morning routine, until finally he's rolled in a
ball, crying, and whispering, "Nobody loves me." I curl myself around
him and hug him...."Mama loves you, Scotty. Mama knows this: you get so
nervous on the first day! But mama also knows this: you are so happy and
smart and kind...this day is going to be a great day. And I'm going to
hold your hand, and you're going to get through this part, because
there's a lot of fun waiting for you on the other side. I'm here to
remind you....it's always this hard for you....but only at first."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Lately, I've noticed that he queues up
miscellaneous physical ailments. A jammed finger, a splinter, a stubbed
toe....I think he feels it's acceptable to cry over these things,
instead of how he's feeling. When he does this lately, I hug him and
rock him and tell him..."Scotty, it's normal to feel this way. It's okay
to cry when you're feeling scared or lonely or sad or angry." Scotty:
"But my finger mommy...it's my finger!" I know, honey. I know. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm
so afraid of disappointing him. What if he needs something I do not
have? I think...there are times, thinking about my responsibilities as his mom, when I need somebody to hug me tight
and whisper "shhh" in my ear. Here's what I know: I love him. I love my
children. My story didn't even exist until theirs started.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I hope that's enough.</div>
Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-33364629597148157932012-08-25T10:46:00.001-07:002012-08-25T11:01:46.542-07:00Late Summer Garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Beans</div>
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zucchini</div>
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summer squash</div>
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jungle out there</div>
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pumpkins (LOVE)</div>
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cucumbers</div>
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seriously....a jungle</div>
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lettuce</div>
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harvest</div>
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<br /></div>
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So many cucumbers! Lots of green tomatoes, but it's been a bad year for tomatoes. Not one tomato has been harvested! I wonder if it's the same all over? I have been too busy to know what is happening in the tomato world.</div>
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<br /></div>
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August is a bit of a blur for me at the moment...two birthday boys ate many cupcakes and I worked for two weeks and the boys went to day camp (LOVE) and I worked hard...so hard...setting up my classroom and STILL wasn't quite ready for the first day of school two days ago. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It's foggy these mornings....I'm feeling quiet and open to possibilities. I started taking a writing class on Monday evenings (worst. timing. ever.) and as you can see from this stellar blog post...that shit works! ;)</div>
Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-36382164048205207382012-08-02T07:20:00.000-07:002012-08-02T07:20:42.859-07:00Before and DuringI've been keeping very busy the last few weeks. I was overtaken by the urge to completely overhaul my classroom. Several contributing factors led me to go through every file, box, closet, cupboard, and drawer. I have been purging, recycling, donating, gifting, and tossing like....well, frankly, like it isn't my own stuff. Do you know that feeling? I love when I feel completely detached from STUFF and I like to take advantage of those periods of time. Teachers (elementary school teachers, in particular) are notorious hoarders. But I had three big steel file cabinets in my room....representing 15 cumulative years of teaching 5 different grade levels AND five years of being a math coach....and 90% of what was in those filing cabinets.....went straight into the recycling or the "free to good home box". I pushed those empty cabinets into the hallway and I feel about 2000% better already.<br />
<br />
But more than just cleaning, and organizing, I've taken a big leap and I'm actually....well, I guess the word I'm looking for is "decorating". There are teachers who LOVE to make bulletin boards and pick a "theme" each year....The Beach, then The Rainforest, then Western, and on and on. Then there is me. I do not. I gladly leave up the backings for three years (and they were kindly left up by the person who had the room before me! lol) and have students staple up work when the mood strikes.<br />
<br />
But I don't know.....it hit me this summer that I would nest into my classroom, the same way I nest into my home. And I'm never going to be what I am not, but I was suddenly inspired to be a much better "what I am".<br />
<br />
So here are some befores and some durings, as I am not done.<br />
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Here's something funny. I typically think of my closets as pretty organized. It's not unusual for me to even have some empty shelves in my closets, so this before picture of the first two kinda shocks even me. But, at the end of the year, things that are usually out and about in the classroom need to be stowed away in favor of a deep cleaning (our custodians work their butts off all summer! love them!) so that accounts for some of the haphazard look. But not all of it, no sir.<br />
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Here is the first closet. Bottom three shelves (blue, then white, then repurposed green worm bin haha!) are all base ten math materials. units, tens, hundreds, and thousands. Need them.</div>
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Next shelf is a box with my unit on rocks (a box of rocks! only a teacher!), a box of multiplication array cards, and on top, a box AND two tubs of dice - dice!!!! - and three big jars of assorted beans. If you're wondering about my mental health, so am I. SO MANY DICE. I actually labeled the box of dice with a small sign that says "OMG Dice" haha. For some reason, everything I touched had some number of small paperclips and dice. I cannot explain, but if you need either, give me a call. </div>
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Nothing fancy here, and I've already emptied those shelves and am separating those books into "staying" and "giving away", but $7.50 for a shower curtain, rings, and a tension rod never looked so good in my opinion. And a coat of black paint makes EVERYTHING better, including two cement garden blocks and a shelf I found that, it seems, was once part of that very bookshelf.<br />
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Speaking of black paint, I'm looking at you writing cupboard. This is a during and after, technically, since in the photo on the left I've already painted the top and sides with the black paint. Picture the "oak" veneer on the sides and straight up board on top, since the oak veneer panel had popped off long before I moved into the classroom. Contact paper left over from pantry (surprisingly easy to apply...I had certainly anticipated much cursing, but it was a pleasant 6 minutes) and it's no longer being used for writing.<br />
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These are the extra math materials (a lot of these will come out and go
into individual bags the students keep at their desks) and the shelves
where their Problem Solving Journals are kept. The kids can use all of
these at will. <br />
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Black paint for all (love you black paint!) and some Dollar Store scrapbook paper....and the afters are so much nicer! In the after picture, I have the cubby facing the "wrong" direction because on top is a stacking 'inbox' system I use to keep their math folders. It only fits on the cubby in this direction, so for now, this makes the most sense to me. We'll see if the orientation is a problem once The Squirrels move in. Oh, why can't they keep these in their desks? Because they aren't allowed to. Things in their desks get ripped, lost, spilled on, stuck to.....and, whatever else. No desks for you!<br />
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Before: 24 cubbies. These were when K-3 had 20 students. Each student was assigned a cubby for....I don't know? Homework? Book storage? Mail? I have no idea, but the tell-tale stickers of student names (students I've never even met who are, I'm assuming, driving by now) and generally grungy appearance has been hidden for three years under.....uh, MORE math bins. haha What can I say? I'm a hammer, so everything I see is a nail. <br />
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During: Meet my new writing center. Black paint on the sides and run across the fronts, more Dollar Store scrapbook paper and this showstopper is going places. 24 cubbies for a <i>writing center</i>, you ask? Oh, it's full.<br />
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Anyway, I've been working, painting, sorting, tossing, and organizing. Feels good! Something more interesting soon, I promise :) and Michelle, I haven't forgotten about you... I have Disney opinions, believe me! <br />
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-25506117826301432012012-07-24T08:23:00.000-07:002012-07-24T08:23:30.466-07:00SummerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrI have had the busiest few weeks...in the very laziest of ways. I don't know how else to describe it! My days are full of gardening, hanging out with my boys, cooking, doing endless mind-numbing chores around my (thankfully) small and manageable home, and working. Yes, working. Teachers typically work all summer. But, here's the beauty of summer work: we only work on what we WANT to work on. So summer is a time of creativity, reflection, and productive output the likes of which you cannot fathom from the whirlwind that is our gig from September to June. I am having a blast and falling in love with <i>all things classroom</i> once again. Soon enough the boys head off during the days for their beloved summer camp, and I'll be giving two one-week workshops at the same time. So scheduling and rushing and <i>real</i> work looms ahead...but for now, I'm quietly and happily puttering around in this Land of Nod between the past and the future.<br />
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A few pics from our short, oh-so-sweet romp at DisneyLand. Every year we go, and every year it is better than the last year. This time, we met my brother's kids and his ex-wife for a day and we had a <b>blast</b>. Can't wait to see them in a couple of weeks.<br />
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(fyi: that IS a space mountain astronaut t-shirt my honey is wearing. LOVE)</div>
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The new CarsLand at California Adventure is sooooo gooooood! The new Radiator Springs ride is AWESOME!!!!!!! </div>
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Do you want to hear about how we got there at 7am, for a park that opens at 8am, to stand in line for a fast pass that opened at 9am, so that we could get on a ride that didn't even open until 11am? And do you want to hear about how, when I picked up my family set of fast passes at 9:15am, they were <i>already</i> for a return ride between 3:15 and 4:15? Do you want to hear about how, when I met up with the rest of my family and we strolled by that very fast pass outlet not 30 minutes later....the entire ride had 'sold out' of fast passes for the <i>rest of the day</i> <i>and night</i>? The hapless folks who didn't leave their hotels at 6:30 am to get tickets (haha! #winning! wait.) had to wait 2 hours and 10 minutes in the standby line. Because of a fluke, our kids got to ride twice (and we each rode once) during the designated hour only using two of our four fast passes (one of the kids we traveled with that day had a pretty severe disability, and had a special pass that we all got to use). So we were able to gift two of our fast passes to a man and his son, as they took their positions at the end of that line.</div>
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Scotty was all <i>arrrrrgh matey!</i> on this trip. He bought (I bought him) one of those scopes after one of our <i>many</i> turns on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride (don't mind if we do go again, son, it is one of my favorites too!) and he was checking to see when the "pirate ship" was coming. It's actually their "Columbia" ship ride, but try telling him it wasn't a pirate ship.</div>
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Being a pirate is hard, lonely work. But well worth the sacrifices.</div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-7323798942396845652012-07-19T16:29:00.000-07:002012-07-19T16:29:19.062-07:00Zucchini Bread*<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Before</i></div>
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<i>After</i></div>
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<br />My mom and I both planted zucchini and that was, I assure you, a tragic mistake. I may have planted two. Nobody needs more than one. And one to share? Probably about right. Already, I have a dozen of the squash ripening on ONE of my plants. At my mom's house the other day, I was rooting around in her garden (<i>as you do</i>) and pulled out a zucchini that was roughly the size of a three month old baby. You don't want to lose track of a squash for a week. They will balloon to Jurassic proportions overnight.<br />
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So I brought it home, because she was already dealing with more zucchini than she cared to, and really, squash doesn't taste as good when it gets that big. So I cut it up and made zucchini chocolate chip loaves. I've made 6. I'm about <i>halfway</i> through this one zucchini. Really, now.<br />
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I've immediately removed the loaves from my home, via friends and neighbors, and so far, I haven't eaten any. Of course, that could change, since six more loaves are in my future, though I'm currently out of chocolate chips so it will wait a little bit. I think I'll do four loaves and then make a couple dozen muffins.<br />
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Anyway, this bread smells so good, and looks so amazing, I'll share the recipe. It's an old recipe, not unlike other zucchini bread recipes, I have to guess. But it's the one my mom taught me, and it's a keeper. Same recipe for loaves or muffins, and the recipe makes two loaves.<br />
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<i>This is a quick bread, and nothing could be easier. Mix dry ingredients together, mix wet ingredients together in a separate bowl, then combine wet and dry, add the walnuts and chocolate chips, then bake at 350 for 50 minutes (two loaf pans) or 25 minutes (muffins).</i><br />
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Dry ingredients: 3 c flour, 1/2 c sugar, 1 c brown sugar, 1 tsp each baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, 1/2 tsp salt<br />
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Wet ingredients: 3 eggs, 2 cups shredded zucchini (leave the skins on yum), 2 tsp vanilla, 3/4 c vegetable oil<br />
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1/2 - 1 c chopped walnuts<br />
1.5 c chocolate chips<br />
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I use pam spray on two 9x5 loaf pans. Each is filled halfway, pre-baking, by this recipe. Yum yum!<br />
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(This freezes really well. I slice it first, so I can pull out a few slices at a time, and then wrap it in wax paper then aluminum wrap. Muffins can be frozen in freezer bags.)<br />
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* I had to look up how to spell zucchini. It is not, as it turns out <i>zuchhini, zuchinni, or zuccinni.</i> Just saying.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-59204488261721432532012-07-17T17:06:00.001-07:002012-07-17T17:06:57.728-07:00Donuts?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We woke up this morning to a rather blustery day....overcast and windy, it finally cleared up around 2pm and although it's glorious now, it was <i>just</i> gloomy enough to require a quick batch of 'homemade donuts' in the morning.<br />
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"homemade" in quotes because they start and end with these:<br />
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For some reason, a package of these biscuits has been in my refrigerator. Easy enough to make biscuits at home, I can't account for why I would have these....a monster sale? left at a potluck? I have no recollection. If these are your biscuits, and we just ate them, I apologize.<br />
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Anyway, pop open a package (or three) and separate the doughy disks. I heated some organic vegetable shortening (healthy! #winning!) in the electric skillet. I have no authority in these matters, but used the 375 degree setting, in case you are inclined to try these but are as clueless as I am.<br />
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When the oil was good and heated, I plopped all ten biscuit doughs right in, browned for a minute, then used silicon tongs to flip them and brown on the other side for a minute. I pulled them all out and onto a paper towel, then rolled them in a bowl of sugar/cinnamon mixed together. No idea how much of either, I keep an old jam jar full of it for cinnamon toast, and I just used whatever was in there. Repeat from the top, when serving my kids.<br />
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That's it. Seriously. I didn't even bother with punching holes. And you know what? Not bad at all. A tasty (and more importantly....easy) impromptu treat for a dreary morning!Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-25173128423462132562012-07-11T06:00:00.000-07:002012-07-11T06:00:07.940-07:00Fair<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love the fair! I even love the rides. We are at DisneyLand this week, and we take both our boys on every single ride....Space Mountain, Thunder Mountain Railroad, Matterhorn, Splash Mountain, Pirates....it just doesn't matter. We encourage the last car, the first car, HANDS UP EVERYONE, and I never bat an eye.<br />
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But there's something about a fair ride, isn't there? The "thrill" of these "thrill rides" comes from getting a close up look at the carnies who are responsible for transporting, constructing, and operating these creaky, broke-ass monstrosities. The excitement comes from not knowing if this thing is going to shake apart completely, hurling you across the park.<br />
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<i>Good times</i>.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-83991223545186792922012-07-10T06:00:00.000-07:002012-07-10T06:00:17.976-07:00Garden at the Farm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My parents have almost three acres of space at their farm, but this is by far my favorite garden on their property. It's a beautiful, meandering garden that is just exactly who they are. The rocks and wood have all been poached from different places they go motorcycle riding and camping...from Wilseyville to Pi-Pi Valley to the Apple Ranch near Yosemite. Here is where they sit quietly drinking wine and listening to the small fountain in the pond, where they battle snails and deer and wild turkeys, where they lovingly transplant and shape and tinker. They experiment with light and foliage and structure and it is a beautiful treat for all my senses. I often step out of my car and walk the paths of this garden, to the side of the kitchen (including the veggie patch and fruit "orchard" of a half dozen trees), opening and shutting each gate behind me, before I even venture into the house. They often find me here, and because my mother is crazy, she greets me with, "What the hell are you doing?" And it feels like home. So I tell her, "I'm visiting." I love that garden.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-30256417253905012842012-07-09T07:00:00.000-07:002012-07-09T07:00:01.631-07:00ChallengedI am a bit famous, in some circles, for creating materials and curriculum for teaching mathematics... and then either losing it or giving it away. I am <i>constantly</i> either trying to REcreate something, or, sheepishly, contacting my <strike>colleagues</strike> caretakers with short cryptic emails that begin, "Hey! Do you have a file or hard copy of the decimals/percentages unit I wrote last summer?" I have no good system for keeping track of my work life....<i>yet</i>. But I'm closer than ever with my new discovery (perhaps you've heard of it) called <b>binders<i>. </i></b>Yes, binders.<br />
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Before binders, there were boxes. I brought home 6 boxes of work at the end of the school year, that I needed to organize so I wouldn't have to recreate things for my Chicago experience. The Thursday before I left, my living room looked like this:<br />
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(Don't judge me.)</div>
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Boxes are bad for me because they hide so many sins. Duplicates, randoms, and weird objects make their way into the boxes. Further confounding me, is that I can't figure out a filing system for the boxes. I've tried file folders, but my descriptions on the tab that shows are never descriptive enough and I end up having to pull and look through every folder to find what I'm looking for. By the way, whatever I am looking for, is never in the box anyway.</div>
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By Friday night, my living room looked like this. In the binders, are several hundred plastic sleeves. The binders are by topic. Some are mathematical ideas that I think are key for the grade levels I specialize in. Some are pedagogy ideas that I think are crucial for teachers of mathematics who want to teach math in a sense-making, problem-centered way. Finally, I have one for the new Common Core Standards for Mathematics, one for professional readings I like teachers to do in the workshops (my crowning jewel! oh how I was sick of looking for and asking for and re-copying previously highlighted copies of, these readings!), and one for the tools and materials of the consulting group I work with.<br />
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In the one remaining box seen on the floor in front, I have duplicates of things that were leftovers. And in the red train case are my presenters materials, from the mundane (scissors, my favored chart pens, emergency dry erase markers, post it notes, and index cards) to the crucial (ibuprofen and safety pins, because nothing says "I have to stand up in front of 60 people today" like a migraine, a broken bra strap or a missing button).<br />
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Here is why it is so great for me to use plastic sleeves in binders: I don't have to care if they're organized, as long as they are in the proper themed binder. I can so easily flip through the sleeves that I don't have to care what order anything is in. If it's about The Number System/Place Value, it IS in that 2" space. Period. It takes 30 seconds to flip through and find what I'm looking for.<br />
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Also new for the last week I did in Chicago: I took one empty binder and started populating it with sleeves from SEVEN other binders! A post-it note at the start of each section of sleeves told me which binders they originated from. That's why I was able to pack for 4 days of work and 3 days of play in a city 1800 miles from home in one carry on roller case and my tech backpack. It's also why I was able to put all the materials back into their original binder in less than 6 minutes when I got home.<br />
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I started the Binders Are Delightful And Super Systematic (or <i>BADASS</i>) organizational technique with my classroom last year, and I can't wait to fine tune it now that I've had this break through with my math work.<br />
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I'm going to organize the shit out of this!Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-77542492284846088472012-07-06T07:30:00.000-07:002012-07-06T07:30:01.811-07:00Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ten to eleven miles a day, and he positively loves it! I love vacations!!!!!</div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-48554365809730289772012-07-05T07:30:00.000-07:002012-07-05T07:30:02.721-07:00Bound<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had to put my quilt aside to get ready for, and travel to, Chicago.</div>
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But now I have the lovely task of binding to get back to. I know there are people who find this to be a tedious chore, but I am not one of those people. I get to use a thimble and I love hand sewing the binding into place. I love being curled up in a chair sewing, with my family near by, instead of holed up in the bedroom, with the sewing machine, away from everybody. Or worse, holed up in the bedroom with the sewing machine, AND my boys, laying on the bed and playing XBox...AND asking me to stop sewing because it's too loud.</div>
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I love you. GET OUT.</div>
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-72966324983414829122012-07-04T14:23:00.000-07:002012-07-04T14:31:18.419-07:00While I Was Gone....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My boy's room took a tween twist with the addition of this awesome electronic drum set. Please do not ask how much it cost. It embarrasses me. But, both of them play, and I hope will for many years, so someday I hope to share that it was a great bargain at pennies a day. <i>ahem</i></div>
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Erik did an awesome job taking care of and watering my gardens! It looked like <a href="http://miaandtheboys.blogspot.com/2012/06/garden-grows.html" target="_blank">this</a> when I left for my Chicago trip. Really now!</div>
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Ohhhhhhhh pumpkins! I love them so. I didn't grow any last year, how I wept, but I've got 4 big plants from seed going this year, and I could just die. Look how sweet they are, I love them so!<br />
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SOMEBODY is digging in my cucumber patch. Probably the dog. I will cut her.</div>
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Squash! The zuchini and yellow squash are both thriving, but these summer squash are actually bearing fruit already. Yummy on the grill, just in time for July!</div>
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The greens confuse me. I need to figure out how these work. I checked the packages, and it says "harvest in 45 to 60 days" and I believe these were planted 40 days or so ago. I'm going to let it ride. Come on, no snake eyes!</div>
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The tomatoes have had the slowest starts, but I believe I can see real progress, <i>finally.</i></div>
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I love coming home :)</div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-28383230693376356442012-07-01T17:51:00.000-07:002012-07-01T17:51:37.007-07:00Home Again<br />
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Home after 7 days in Chicago. Still love that city! Now I'm doing laundry, enjoying the clean house and bountiful garden I came home to (good job, honey!), and settling back into all things home.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-3606931396527357242012-06-20T14:46:00.000-07:002012-06-20T14:46:28.248-07:00Garden :: Grows!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Beans, yellow squash, zucchini, pumpkins, strawberries....</div>
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cucumbers....</div>
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greens....</div>
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Not pictured: tomatoes, spinach, kale...all growing just out of the line of sight from these photos.</div>
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Gardening for me is at once a leap of faith, confirmation of the physical laws of the universe, irrefutable botanical science, and yet a completely magical and mysterious process.</div>
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The fact that each of these things was a seed, mere potential, not four weeks ago? Plus the fact that these have grown by no less than 35% in the few days since I took these pictures, standing barefoot in my backyard? This plus that equal awe, every single time. It never gets old.</div>
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On Father's Day we had dinner at my mom's house. Standing in her garden, troubleshooting tomato death, marveling at her beans and the way the hummingbird sage starts I propogated from the native beauty in my front yard are now so huge they need to be transplanted...AGAIN...I could very nearly feel the thread that connects me to her through the roots of those plants, and then through her, connecting both of us to my grandmother.</div>
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One thing I'm <i>pretty sure </i>Grandma Dot never asked my mother to do, however, is hop into a 50 gallon garbage bin and jump up and down on it (holding onto the eave of the garage for balance) to make room for a final bag of garbage. That crazy is so patently Mother that I couldn't help but remember the time she had dad's gray bomber truck loaded sky high with pruned branches from, among other things, a dozen rose bushes ambling around her property. When she ask me and my brother to hop in the back to "pack it in", my brother raised his eyebrows at me and shook his head ever so slightly. <i>Thank you, no</i> he seemed to be saying. </div>
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He's been in every kind of pickle imaginable because of that woman, so I didn't question it....my turn, I thought to myself. I climbed on the edge of the truck bed using the wheel hubs as a makeshift step ladder and scooted toward the cab. With one hand on the top of the truck, and my left foot planted on the edge of the bed, I toed my right foot around until I found my footing and I <i>lept</i> onto the top of the branches. It was no less than a 40 inch vertical leap, and I can't remember <i>exactly</i> what I was thinking when I fell <i>through</i> the tower of branches, cracking and snapping my way as I plunged hip deep into the thorny wood that scratched and gouged first my ankles, then my knees, and finally my thighs...but I'm <i>pretty sure</i> it was something like GODDIZZLE.</div>
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My brother shook his head and gave me a (not unkind) <i>I told you so</i> look before my mom started nagging at me that I need to do <i>more</i> I hadn't <i>packed it in </i>enough and <i>there's plenty of room just start jumping.</i> So I did what I can only hope my own kids do one day...I started jumping.</div>
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<br /></div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-46444403127524173362012-06-18T19:30:00.005-07:002012-07-01T17:53:21.488-07:00Crafty :: Quilt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm finishing up the binding on the quilt I'm making. It's sewn in long strips first, alternating squares and rectangles. I'm following the process from <a href="http://ihavetosay.typepad.com/randi/2010/03/on-the-road-to-spring-quiltalong-.html" target="_blank">Randy's Quilt Along Series</a>, in which I made <a href="http://miaandtheboys.blogspot.com/2010/10/quilt-along-episodes-done-and-done.html" target="_blank">this quilt</a>, originally. I needed a much bigger blanket, so I followed the same process but made much larger squares and rectangles. The original is 3.5 x 3.5 inch squares with 3.5 x 7.5 inch rectangles. This one is 4.5 x 4.5 inch squares with 4.5 x 10.5 inch rectangles.<br />
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Squares and rectangles alternate along in each row, then the rows are placed, replaced, and placed yet again, until it's fairly pleasing and random to the eye. Harder than you might think. Just saying. And because I managed to sew <i>rectangle to rectangle </i>at least three times, I kept the seam ripper quite handy. In this case, it worked out because it helped me make a last minute decision that makes my quilt pattern even more random. Good job, screwin' up.<br />
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Once I had the rows in place, and I was quite certain how I wanted them, I used a small piece of painters tape and marked each row, 1 to 20. Which was WAY MORE AWESOME than what I normally do (keep a stack, in order, which never works and I always get turned around and forget which way I was working from).<br />
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This system, so you know, is super fantastic. I thought so that first night, when I quickly pinned and sewed the first three rows together....one...two...three. Bob's your uncle!<br />
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I even thought so the next morning, when I woke and pinned and sewed number four to number one and number seven to number 3. So....four...one...two...three...seven? It's a great system. <i>It works if you work it.</i> But, if you are like me, keep that seam ripper nearby. It's my number one must-have tool when sewing. If you think I'm kidding? Needle and thread are numbers 2 and 3, respectively.<br />
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-78990746141544925962012-06-05T17:29:00.000-07:002012-06-05T17:29:28.308-07:00SeedlingsThis year in the garden, I planted seeds instead of starts. I got a late start, too, as most seeds went in over Memorial Day weekend. But whatever! I'm a Thug Gardener, so I am not afraid.<br />
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Pole beans were the last to sprout. I thought maybe they never would. Not that they were outside the 10-14 day germination printed on the package....but tomatoes </div>
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and beans definitely both took their time.</div>
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Unlike these warriors. They sprouted in neat rows not four days after I put the seeds in the boxes. This is the first year I've planted greens, and I'm super excited about it all. This is kale, spinach, lettuce, and a fancy mix too. I was telling a couple people this story, so now I guess I can tell you. These two boxes are in partial shade during the day. I was standing around trying to decide if I should dig out the dirt and move them into one of the walkways, away from the shade-giving butterfly bush, so I could plant pole beans in them. At the exact moment I was contemplating this labor-intensive move, I was also lamenting that these seeds I bought (for the kale, spinach, and lettuces) all preferred cooler climes. The box I was considering them in (below, and in full sun for the whole day) was going to be way too hot for them. I thought maybe I'd wait a cycle, and plant them in the shade of the squashes that would also go in this box.</div>
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I guess it took me 25 minutes or so to figure out what you, undoubtedly, already have....and that's how it came to be that the shade-loving greens went into the shady boxes and the sun-loving beans went into the sunny box. </div>
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Mensa called later that day. </div>
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Summer squash, zucchini, and lots of pumpkins, plus three rows of pole beans. Everything is happy and growing well. In fact I need to thin them all now, though that wasn't clear when this picture was taken.</div>
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A whole plot of cucumbers. Again, everything grew, so I'll need to thin these out. There are five or six growing on each mound, and it's supposed to be 2 or 3, I guess. There are two varieties of cucumbers here...pickling and I think Armenian. I planted a whole box of tomatoes too. I've never regretted having too many cucumbers and too many tomatoes. The neighbors all know they can come into the backyard and take their fill of any and all, so it has never been a problem.</div>
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And of course the strawberries are still growing and spreading.</div>
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Hopefully, between report cards, quilting, and the end of the school year chaos, I will have a chance to show the front yard herb garden that I've started. Also planted from seeds, also making my heart sing. Oh spring! I love you.</div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-83956863838645450962012-06-01T12:33:00.000-07:002012-06-01T12:33:34.208-07:00"I'm Order, You're Chaos" ~ Erik to Me, Everyday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZHb6JuvFe8yZyhFf69-xoYYeVsf_iPzcxbDWKZOPrK8_qmpjxJZkgXYoUKFTIkCbzazlpeith5XWfpFMoqvV5ocfT6zEeq4ejPIYVIqEwuylY2XT-967SH_QDt3V2HPElS27D-6A_mWh/s1600/DSC_0465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZHb6JuvFe8yZyhFf69-xoYYeVsf_iPzcxbDWKZOPrK8_qmpjxJZkgXYoUKFTIkCbzazlpeith5XWfpFMoqvV5ocfT6zEeq4ejPIYVIqEwuylY2XT-967SH_QDt3V2HPElS27D-6A_mWh/s320/DSC_0465.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I bought this book, because Tommy is entering middle school next year (the hell?) and he goes to Montessori schools, which means he's in charge of his own learning and project management, to a large extent. We've been all over him about his (blackhole of a) backpack, his (missing) baseball equipment, his (disgusting) desk, and his general (perplexing) lack of time management. </div>
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Son, really, I mean, <em>what is wrong with you?</em></div>
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But then I did some cooking.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKx-RKse2jraYm0t9yLVS2bUAI8Ebg_P9n4C83XvVynv2fOu9t95aPS1_qBYREnQ0gZG9h2wiwBh0sVlnbtlQ6rrkKpidbXPF-YIXX5ykMduFS-0GwZdoclL-ckaWX2DB_Ax3o863JtqU/s1600/DSC_0478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKx-RKse2jraYm0t9yLVS2bUAI8Ebg_P9n4C83XvVynv2fOu9t95aPS1_qBYREnQ0gZG9h2wiwBh0sVlnbtlQ6rrkKpidbXPF-YIXX5ykMduFS-0GwZdoclL-ckaWX2DB_Ax3o863JtqU/s320/DSC_0478.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I "cleaned" my backyard.</div>
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And I thought to myself....I don't know, maybe I <em>do </em>know what is wrong him. </div>
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Great book, by the way. </div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-1173766684245932652012-05-31T12:18:00.000-07:002012-05-31T12:18:52.066-07:00Black Thumbs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3Cg4sakgFGdGpjse3EbNhXyIf7xR-CePvB32-zFIQNqjHXxRKI7kyMcF35gGQJpro54mgtEWCnXbxxGwTiglOKMV4fYH6AjnLNR9NXnHcRhGjR_s32S7jQkJTDDR3UEEqI5tZrbuslC3/s1600/DSC_0477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3Cg4sakgFGdGpjse3EbNhXyIf7xR-CePvB32-zFIQNqjHXxRKI7kyMcF35gGQJpro54mgtEWCnXbxxGwTiglOKMV4fYH6AjnLNR9NXnHcRhGjR_s32S7jQkJTDDR3UEEqI5tZrbuslC3/s320/DSC_0477.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Backyard</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvP0RGVsoyXT7wVQ_ZZ8b9OIZEVNGpqvHw1qQ7oR-nvOBrct0fOcOfDUkFCkX_pW827C0l6R-joQA-1JjEZ_oC8ZqUVDJ0Zxfq_svVzTYwTxATj6PFDDk_enob1A3ZB5KPKsWaWnbjVicv/s1600/DSC_0481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvP0RGVsoyXT7wVQ_ZZ8b9OIZEVNGpqvHw1qQ7oR-nvOBrct0fOcOfDUkFCkX_pW827C0l6R-joQA-1JjEZ_oC8ZqUVDJ0Zxfq_svVzTYwTxATj6PFDDk_enob1A3ZB5KPKsWaWnbjVicv/s320/DSC_0481.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Front yard</div>
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Side yard</div>
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Geraniums aren't fancy (neither am I)...they are a bloom-where-you're-planted kind of friend (so am I)....You can't kill them. And? If you do? If you do, they are a break-off-a-piece-and-start-over kind of cat (as am I).<br />
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There are dozens of geraniums, in various stages of transplant and growth, around my yard. I think 90% of them are offshoots from the pink and red trailing variety that have lived for 4 years in the giant pot next to a raised veggie bed in my backyard. <br />
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I love them because they were Grandma Mary's favorite flower. She had a bit of a black thumb. "I kill them with kindness," is what she would tell us, as she watered everything in her yard....to death. But geraniums don't mind if you over water them. Or under water them. Or anything else. They will produce (and reproduce) their happy little blossoms until time out of mind. <br />
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Really now....I kind of love them.<br />
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-80607172888920071722012-05-25T06:48:00.000-07:002012-05-31T12:07:27.375-07:00This Boy and His Dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dazLhy2Ae400qjIWiJDK6NvW35m9jSjgS_715BfWdq4HMcDsPcj_U8duVzjS1kahaFJ9ZwovKvOv1yX5h3ejBZCyG_9xbCCOUZSAVlbEBIcnVcShqr-avbmLFb9syL2jgcR86C77HLb1/s1600/IMG_0359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dazLhy2Ae400qjIWiJDK6NvW35m9jSjgS_715BfWdq4HMcDsPcj_U8duVzjS1kahaFJ9ZwovKvOv1yX5h3ejBZCyG_9xbCCOUZSAVlbEBIcnVcShqr-avbmLFb9syL2jgcR86C77HLb1/s320/IMG_0359.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOULErlPWYVSvQFXIMPiyuoXxjiR44mEuFc0UakSCA74c1YKhYsAyAjB3huVJbmR1yRrrBfU78ej8ZnLKnkO2JQPwYKmjEPJHPA6izzLX9sLMUtiDGsTcomjoKkurWkD55fkFFM2Qj4Nz/s1600/IMG_0341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOULErlPWYVSvQFXIMPiyuoXxjiR44mEuFc0UakSCA74c1YKhYsAyAjB3huVJbmR1yRrrBfU78ej8ZnLKnkO2JQPwYKmjEPJHPA6izzLX9sLMUtiDGsTcomjoKkurWkD55fkFFM2Qj4Nz/s320/IMG_0341.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-29985677118246408992012-05-24T06:21:00.000-07:002012-05-31T12:07:05.374-07:00Thoughtful :: Missing Her<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;">They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time. ~ Banksy</span> </blockquote>
Gram died a year ago, yesterday. Me and Tommy talk about her the most, I guess. Scotty tells me he knows that she lives in his heart. I tell him that's true. But. I guess I would give just about anything to hear her singing, one more time. Hear her laughing, one more time. Hold her hand, one more time. Today, I'm going to say her name, one more time, and I hope there never is a last time. I love you, Grandma Mary.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-33544571518445668652012-05-23T07:19:00.000-07:002012-05-31T12:06:52.448-07:00What I Wore :: Cardigan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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BOOBS</div>
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It's allergy season and I was wearing a cardigan over my "teacher dress" (oh, yes, I assure you, there <i>is</i> such a thing as a "teacher dress", and it's a standard issue with your credential ;) when I noticed a tissue poking out of my sleeve. </div>
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My Grandma Dot taught pre-school for...um....carry the one, that makes 8....a hojillion years**. And there are a lot of tears (and boogers) in pre-school. She was never without tissue, and they were always stuck into the sleeve of her bright green cardigan, just as I have done here.</div>
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She never shared this as a "hot tip" and she never mentioned it at all really, so I was sort of surprised to look down and find that, with a muscle of memory I didn't even know I had, a tissue had found it's way into my own cardigan sleeve.</div>
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It got me to thinking about my children, and their children (or children's children) one day, and if there's anything about me that will find it's way into their bones? Like, will my great-great-grandchild love horses and cry when he steps on a snail, but not know why?</div>
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I kind of hope so.</div>
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Whenever I use the made up number of "hojillion" I am reminded of <a href="http://www.spotlight-online.de/news/technology/one-octillion-is-a-hella-big-number" target="_blank">this news story</a>, where folks were petitioning to officially call the number octillion (10 to the 27th power) "hella big". Still cracks me up.</div>
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-6967918260183491442012-05-22T16:39:00.000-07:002012-05-22T16:39:00.645-07:00Gardening :: Sage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's that time of the year, when I've started assessing the garden plan. Besides the monumental weed situation, two beautiful plants came up big losers. The top one is a flourishing rosemary and the bottom one is a stronger-than-ever sage. Both of these herbs started as $1.99 starts several years ago, but both have outlived their planting arrangements. I hated doing it, but the sage had to die (I'm sorry honey and bumble bees, I know this is your favorite friend!) and the rosemary had to move out of the tub and into the ground.<br />
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After about an hour of hacking, pulling, and cursing, the sage BUSH had been reduced to a pile of branches and an enormous stump.<br />
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The raised bed that had been buried under the sprawl of the sage was now free and clear, and with compost and soil amendments, it has been planted as the cucumber patch.<br /> <br />
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The only thing that made this task bearable was the fact that this amazing plant had lovingly cast it's seeds into the surrounding areas and a half dozen small sages were growing nearby. I carefully dug them out and kept them immersed in a bucket of water until the next afternoon, when I finally had time to plant them in the front yard.<br />
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The front yard is going to be the kitchen garden, and I'm happy to report that three of the new sage plants <i>and</i> the enormous rosemary bush have survived the move and <i>appear</i> to be thriving. That's a decent mortality rate for my gardening record, if I'm being honest. Fingers crossed that I can, in the near future, amend <i>appears </i>to be thriving with just "thriving". Wish me luck....<br />
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-78848799435907196992012-05-21T16:24:00.000-07:002012-05-21T16:24:00.037-07:00Making :: Crocheted Baskets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Using the <a href="http://miaandtheboys.blogspot.com/2011/03/video-crochet-rag-rug-preparing-sheets.html" target="_blank">material I prepare for rag rugs</a>, and <a href="http://miaandtheboys.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-to-crochet-rag-rug.html" target="_blank">roughly the same process</a>, I have crocheted a few fabric baskets in recent weeks. They are sturdy and functional and, in my mind, pretty charming. The round one that holds (about one third of) Scotty's block collection was made using a pile of crib sheets I'd been saving. I'm not much of a home decorator, so 5 or 6 well-loved sheets were exactly the inventory that got me through both sets of crib years. No matching crib bumpers, no themed bedroom sets, just whatever few had been given to me by thoughtful, more stylish friends than I, and they made an adorable basket in the end.<br />
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I made the rectangular basket for wood next to the fireplace. Our San Francisco springs are so mild that the fireplace mostly sleeps from now until mid-November or so.....but the weather here is just unpredictable enough that you'd be a fool not to keep <i>something</i> to burn close at hand. So the ugly yellow-wrapped fire logs are cute as a button cozied into their new home.<br />
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Another basket, the first one I made, was started on Easter, watching the kids run around Aunt Barbara's backyard. Originally intended to hold my mom's traditional Easter presents (the vegetable starts I give her for her garden every year), I couldn't quite finish the basket in the few hours we were there. She took her plants home in the cardboard boxes they came in, and I took the basket home and ended up using it every day since. <i>As you do.</i><br />
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It's amazing how much this basket holds! Camera and extra lenses, lunches and snacks for school/work/baseball field, veggies from the farmers market, a family set of water bottles, my (empty) wallet and keys (somewhere buried in there, i swear, give me a <strike>second</strike> minute and I'll find them), my ever-present notebook(s), at least three baseballs, my mitt, and random squirt guns and sticks I'm holding onto for The Things. <br />
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Seriously sturdy.<br />
<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-26866457174806123462012-05-21T00:15:00.001-07:002012-05-21T00:27:36.049-07:00Weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tommy loves baseball, and this is his year. He drafted up to THE BIG LEAGUES and his hitting has turned a corner. This stand up double is the result of weeks of hustle and heart by this boy of mine who absolutely loves this game. And, wouldn't you know, once that door is opened......he has hits and rbis coming out of his ears. Thank you, Baseball, he needed that. <br />
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<br />Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089584968084859388.post-22405092547270893822011-10-13T07:19:00.000-07:002011-10-13T07:19:49.298-07:00Man I Love My KidsTommy had created this little scene with his legos. I said, "Hey, Tommy.....what happened to the heads?"<br />
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I was prepared to be annoyed, because I get so tired of the way they take care of things sometimes! Legos are expensive, especially the figures, and to think we'd have all these missing heads??? It was more than I could take as we rushed out the door and into the car during our morning grand prix.<br />
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"Oh, I took the heads off," he answered. "Those are the zombies."<br />
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Duh.Mia's Classroomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07760445106454214971noreply@blogger.com3