Momo's done! Turned everything in. Walked out of the building with Nancy McBride.
She had walleye for lunch. And she wore jeans, crocs and a black three-button shirt to her last day at work.
And those are little details that I will enjoy knowing in later years. Because I'm like that.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Towards Retirement
Today is Momo's last day with students at L-BF.
Last day. Ever. With the students.
In my hometown. Where I grew up.
Where we know just about everyone.
Probably everyone actually. Except any "new" folks.
Where we were the "new" folks 28 years ago.
Last day with students in the school that I went to.
Where she used to let me play with the plastic turtle-shaped paper clip holder that she kept in her desk.
And get irritated with me because I would take all the paper clips out and make a chain.
And then put them back in the turtle. HahA!
Where she read me Little House in the Big Woods while we sat on the faux green leather couch in the teacher breakroom of the old school.
Where there was a coordinating (NOT!) plaid couch in the breakroom.
Where we would wait for a ride home from Dad.
Where I would walk around barefoot because it felt neat to walk around barefoot in a school.
Where we took the cookie class with Mrs. Rasmussen.
Where we learned how to make baskets with Clarice.
Where I had driver's training.
Where she used to let me practice volleyball on weekends in the gymnasium.
Because I was terrible. And she thought I might get better if I practiced more.
Where she sometimes let us play "Oregon Trail" on the computer (in black and green) if we were good and had our work done.
Where she would let Ryan Lee and I study in her classroom before Science tests. But only if we were good and getting work done.
And sometimes she would call over "Get back on track, you two."
Where we had to wait while she corrected many, many papers before we could go home.
Where she sometimes chaperoned my school dances. How embarrassing.
Where she stood by her classroom door and supervised the halls.
Where she gave me detention. More than once. One time for getting chapstick out of my pocket. I kid you not.
Although there may have been more to it than that.
Where she would not talk to me at all during detention until we got in the car to go home. I kid you not. Really.
Where she would sometimes speak at awards night.
Where she helped us plan mock trial.
Where she made countless bulletin boards.
Where she had red, spiral bound lesson plans.
Where she mentored all those student teachers. And actually cared about how they were going to do on their own.
Where I got to visit her classroom when I was a grown-up.
Where she let me talk to her students about being in the Army.
Where she called out to them "Get back on track, you guys", when they were asking too many questions about blood and guts.
It's her last day with students at that school.
Check out the fancy "marquee" script the students have added to the website for the occasion.
http://www.isd362.k12.mn.us/high_school_teachers.htm
Last day. Ever. With the students.
In my hometown. Where I grew up.
Where we know just about everyone.
Probably everyone actually. Except any "new" folks.
Where we were the "new" folks 28 years ago.
Last day with students in the school that I went to.
Where she used to let me play with the plastic turtle-shaped paper clip holder that she kept in her desk.
And get irritated with me because I would take all the paper clips out and make a chain.
And then put them back in the turtle. HahA!
Where she read me Little House in the Big Woods while we sat on the faux green leather couch in the teacher breakroom of the old school.
Where there was a coordinating (NOT!) plaid couch in the breakroom.
Where we would wait for a ride home from Dad.
Where I would walk around barefoot because it felt neat to walk around barefoot in a school.
Where we took the cookie class with Mrs. Rasmussen.
Where we learned how to make baskets with Clarice.
Where I had driver's training.
Where she used to let me practice volleyball on weekends in the gymnasium.
Because I was terrible. And she thought I might get better if I practiced more.
Where she sometimes let us play "Oregon Trail" on the computer (in black and green) if we were good and had our work done.
Where she would let Ryan Lee and I study in her classroom before Science tests. But only if we were good and getting work done.
And sometimes she would call over "Get back on track, you two."
Where we had to wait while she corrected many, many papers before we could go home.
Where she sometimes chaperoned my school dances. How embarrassing.
Where she stood by her classroom door and supervised the halls.
Where she gave me detention. More than once. One time for getting chapstick out of my pocket. I kid you not.
Although there may have been more to it than that.
Where she would not talk to me at all during detention until we got in the car to go home. I kid you not. Really.
Where she would sometimes speak at awards night.
Where she helped us plan mock trial.
Where she made countless bulletin boards.
Where she had red, spiral bound lesson plans.
Where she mentored all those student teachers. And actually cared about how they were going to do on their own.
Where I got to visit her classroom when I was a grown-up.
Where she let me talk to her students about being in the Army.
Where she called out to them "Get back on track, you guys", when they were asking too many questions about blood and guts.
It's her last day with students at that school.
Check out the fancy "marquee" script the students have added to the website for the occasion.
http://www.isd362.k12.mn.us/high_school_teachers.htm
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
J stubbed his toe
He chronicles the event below:
I'm glad I made it out alive! Unfortunately I couldn't do any adventures for a few weeks. The reason for this catastrophe is the deadly bruiser trike.
Photo of "deadly bruiser trike" by J
I'm glad I made it out alive! Unfortunately I couldn't do any adventures for a few weeks. The reason for this catastrophe is the deadly bruiser trike.
Photo of "deadly bruiser trike" by J
Monday, May 12, 2008
Elmo Cake
T has decided that he really likes Elmo. I have decided that I really like decorating cakes.
For T's birthday, I have decided that I will make an Elmo cake.
And just to put things in perspective, on a scale of 1-10, 1 being the worst, totally unrecognizable, ugliest Elmo cake ever made, and 10 being the very, very best county-fair-winning Elmo cake ever made, I'm only really aiming at:
3-4.
Which Elmo cake should I make?
Elmo cake "A"
Elmo cake "B"
To put things further in perspective, below is a cake that I made for Christmas. I plan to make it every year and have everything on it edible by the end of time. Fondant anyone?
I had to use a lot of ornaments this year. You've gotta start somewhere.
This cake is from a book called Picture This.
And I can't even claim full credit for this beauty of a cake, because J decorated the paper, and F helped me with the sugar cookie holly.
For T's birthday, I have decided that I will make an Elmo cake.
And just to put things in perspective, on a scale of 1-10, 1 being the worst, totally unrecognizable, ugliest Elmo cake ever made, and 10 being the very, very best county-fair-winning Elmo cake ever made, I'm only really aiming at:
3-4.
Which Elmo cake should I make?
Elmo cake "A"
Elmo cake "B"
To put things further in perspective, below is a cake that I made for Christmas. I plan to make it every year and have everything on it edible by the end of time. Fondant anyone?
I had to use a lot of ornaments this year. You've gotta start somewhere.
This cake is from a book called Picture This.
And I can't even claim full credit for this beauty of a cake, because J decorated the paper, and F helped me with the sugar cookie holly.
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