I will not obsessively check the washer for leaks. I will not go see if it is leaking. I will not.

I will not ask beth if her washer is leaking. That would be wrong.

So, beth, how's your washer?

Given. But still a really attractive goofball.

That's the vibe I'm going for.

And, thanks!

so far - no leaks. and really, it is the cat's fault I checked. He wanted me to play chase. and he went by the door to the garage.

so far - no leaks. and really, it is the cat's fault I checked. He wanted me to play chase. and he went by the door to the garage.

It's always the cat, isn't it!?!

I am cold and I want a nap.

t waves hand Entertain me.

These things have taken over my brain. No room left for being entertaining

Oh poor Owen. Can you put anything on it?

Part of what? I'm not sure I'm following the train of thought. I may need more coffee. But yes, of course one can be too young/immature to appreciate a book, regardless of how (or if) it's taught. For 9th graders, White Fang shouldn't be a problem. It usually gets presented as a story about a doggie and the gold rush with some good vocabulary words, and if nobody asks kids to look for anything more than that, most of them won't. And then they'll forget all about it it as soon as the test's over, because it was meaningless.

And I understand why that happens; I'm not blaming the teachers. It's just a shame that it happens so often.

Yeah, I found a 131 page unit plan for it, and was all excited -- till I read it. All vocab words, and who said this and who is this character. I'll use some of it, but it's all FACTS and no WHY.

I like WHY. I like HOW. WHAT is necessary, but it's not the end-all and be-all...and I think that WHAT is the main focus of my mentor teacher, and I want my students to think about WHYand WHAT IF...and MAYBE.

Gud, I'm glad you had a hash-out. And I feel for your wife; I know how fucking HARD it is to explain depression, and how badly it affects everything.

Deb, I'm very sorry.

Canterbury Catherdral...oh, my, yes. We went there on a blue and gorgeous day, and the sun came in streaming through all the stained glass, and turned the shiny smooth grey stones into watery mosaics. I know how slippery those old, old stones underfoot are, because I feel down them, and landed on my ass in front of the tomb of Edward The Black Prince. I was absurdly charmed my my aching knee for a day.

It was a HISTORICAL aching knee, and I have a crazy fondness for Ed TBP because of it.

And we played hide and seek in Dover Castle! We were the only tour group there that day. It was also the very first time I'd seen the ocean. It was a frigid grey shipping lane with a beach made of rocks the size of my fist. I ran over them barefoot and played in the cold water. I have pictures.

All my English history is bizarrely tied up to my leg and foot pain.