Adventures in parenting, vol. 11

A couple of nights ago, The Kindergartner busts out this gem during dinner:

boogersnot!

I remember using it myself.  Let me just say that it's awfully hard not to laugh at stuff like that.

Adventures with Students, vol. 17

put on your bravest face

Got asked this morning by a student, after I admitted to them that the Darwin reading I'd given them was difficult even for me:  "wait . . . how come you're making us read something that you don't even understand?  How are you going to grade our performance?"

Fair question, though it proceeds from flawed premises.  Let me see if I can work my way toward a satisfactory answer.

First, I think it's a comforting fiction for many students to think that their teachers have mastered all the material they teach.  In the hard sciences, this might even be the case:  there is a certain set of facts and procedures, theories, etc., that represent the requisite material one needs to be able to teach.  In the humanities, however, and especially in the range of readings that one approaches in a composition class, it's a pipe-dream. 

Second, it's worth examining whether or not mastery of an essay is necessary in order to teach it.  I don't hold to that, of course.  I think the more important thing is to have a handle on interpretive strategies, on contextual knowledge, on the workings of rhetoric and philosophy in the general sense.  With those tools, it's possible to approach an enormous range of topics successfully.

Third, education and knowledge isn't the same thing as automatically "knowing" everything about every writer you face--or even understanding everything he or she says. A young person can be idealistic about knowing everything . . . as is the case with so much else, time and life teach otherwise.

Day off. A photo essay.

 Just me and the cats and a bit of work today.  Featuring Sidney in his "do I look like I care?" pose, Simon typically oblivious, my Macbook, a cup of Aeropress coffee, my 1972 Pilot Myu fountain pen, a Field Notes memo book, and Tolstoy's little volume.  

pig . . .

. . . picked.

Six Years Later

Face

There will be time . . . to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet.

I tell thee what, Antonio--
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks--
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!'
O my Antonio, I do know of these
That therefore only are reputed wise
For saying nothing; when, I am very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not, with this melancholy bait,
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.

--Merchant of Venice, Act 1 Scene 1

(hahaha!  Sir Oracle!!)

Hawks Road Hawg Roast # 5 Update

hey, it's a pig pickin.  Didn't say anything about "pretty."

This fifth year, we're doing things pretty much the same as we've done them in the past.  We had to get new sheets of tin this year, though:  the old one we've been using finally bit the dust.  I have to give credit to The Spouse, because without her, frankly, this wouldn't get done at all.  So far, however, we have managed the following:

a.  Cleaned up the yard for the most part
b.  Procured 2/3 of the tin we need
c.  Pits are built and ready to go
d.  1/2 the charcoal we need is in the garage ready to go
e.  Gotten ingredients for the All-Important Carolina Style Sauce
f.  Ordered one (1) 180-lb. sow for our consumption (from Yoder's, of course; head included for theatrical effect)
g.  Straightened up portions of the house and garage that have sorely needed it since winter
h.  Ordered fine weather for this coming Friday and Saturday

Adventures in parenting, vol. 10

The Kindergartner was most excited about spending the night with his best buddy.

Until it got to about 7:30 . . . at which point the tears started.  A bargain was made; he would wait until 8:30 and then decide.  He did well . . .

He waited until almost 9:00 before he called asking to be brought home.

Swapshopping for bucks

One of the most hilarious/annoying features of daily life around here is the flood of emails that come in from "Swapshop," a local email group used to list things/services for sale, etc.  Below, a sample from today:

If anyone has a small set of antlers they want to get rid of, please respond.  I am going to modify them to attach a birdhouse as a project.  They don't have to be in good condition.   If the antlers are not attached to the face of an animal....that is a plus!  [paging Gaston...]
Matching motorcycle jacket, helmet, and gloves for sell. [seen this one countless times]

Suade leather coat  [suade . . . is that some exotic asian breed?]

VHS Videos for sale- $2.00 each (some without cases)
The Land Before Time- Journey through the mist
Beethoven’s 2nd
Joe Somebody
ALI
The Jungle Book
Bush Whacked
Space Jam
Men in Black
The world is not enough
The Little Rascals- volume 7
Men in Black II
Camp Nowhere
Tomorrow Never Dies
Wild Hearts can’t be broken
Lady and the Tramp
Bambi
All dogs go to heaven 2
Timeless tales
Rupelstiltzkin
Polar Express
The Little Mermaid
Ice Age 
[lady, I'll give you $2.00 for the lot.  You do realize these are VHS TAPES, don't you?]

INTJ

I had an older colleague ask me today, in all seriousness, to explain to her about introversion. "I really don't know what that's all about," she said.

um, where to begin?

gallows humor of the day

From the inimitable James Lileks:


Went over to Macy’s, because they’re having a sale on comforters. (Items that caustically describe your faults and the inability you’ll overcome them, human nature being depressingly immutable, were not on sale.) 

cloudy

Some days the sadness creeps in from all directions.  There's so much suffering all around us, even in the midst of what looks like laughter. 

dust motes

object of major desire

Pee-wee soccer update:  in each game, The Kindergartner has shown the ability to break away with the ball, and also shown the ability to be utterly out to lunch.  When he's focused, he does pretty well. 

**

Twelve days until the Pig Pickin:  and we're getting things in shape.  This year will feature t-shirts!

**

I'm glad I don't get bent out of shape over football games anymore:  otherwise yesterday's debacle by the Tide at South Carolina would have really bothered me.  As it stands, it's like "oh well.  next."  Now if I could only get that way about college basketball.

**

Grandparent surprises:  we met Papa for dinner in Jackson on Friday evening; Grammie came to spend yesterday afternoon and evening with us.  The boys liked being surprised.  Little Red is especially demonstrative with his pleasure at being thus surprised.

**

Speaking of Jackson:  the object pictured at the top of this post caused enormous anguish.  The Kindergartner REALLY REALLY WANTS IT and can't understand why his parents didn't just get one at the store for him RIGHT NOW.  It may be delivered by a certain company before October 21st.

**


New trees:  have made it so far for this week.   

**

Busy days at work:  like, incredibly so. 

Adventures in professoring, vol. 1

 

Now leaving on Track 6...









It was too good to last, obviously.  It looks like the Governor's School for the Humanities gravy train has left the station without me on board.  It has been a good experience, and has also (coincidentally, of course) been a steady source of summer income that I could count on every year.  Until Budget Cuts strike, and they have to make a choice about cutting a section of English Composition.  Perfectly understandable.  It came down to me and a colleague of mine:  one would be kept, one laid off.  Well, I did what I considered the right thing:  I conceded the choice to the senior colleague.  He has seniority, so it's only fair.  Sad to miss the opportunity, though.

Adventures with Students, vol. 16

Standing outside chatting with a particularly voluble older student from my Shakespeare class.  He's congratulating himself on being talkative in class, contributing a lot, etc.  I'm reminding him that perhaps some students in the class are quite tuned in, just not particularly anxious to talk.  Maybe they're introverted.  He comes out with this gem: 

I had to get over my introversion before I was ready to become a teacher.  I don't want to wilt in front of a class!

I leaned in really close and said:

Here's a secret:  I'm an extreeeme introvert.

Then I bid him good day.

Adventures in parenting, vol. 9

Sometime in the middle of the night, Little Red climbed in bed with us.  This is a common occurrence; The Spouse thinks it happens when he kicks the covers off and gets cold.  I just roll over and let him get in. 

Next thing I know, I'm involved in this exchange:

daddee.
...
daddee.
....
daaddeee.

mmmffmfmm?

daaaaddeeee.
...
hmmmm?
...
daaaddeee.

....mmmmwhahhtissit?

don't do that again.

...whaaa?

you don't do that ever again.

...do what again?

I don't like it when you do that.

Apparently I fell asleep again, because once again we repeated the pattern (while, I might add, The Spouse was in the other room trying to get the Vulcan Baby to settle down--and apparently snickering as she listened in).  Again, he very strenuously told me that I was not to do that ever again because I don't like it when you do that.

It was only after I got out of bed this morning that The Spouse explained what had happened.  I tried to tell her about this hilarious thing that Little Red said while he was dreaming last night, but she interrupted my funny story to inform me that it had been my snoring that offended Little Red so badly.

Somebody has a birthday today

just a few years later, she has one with the same kind of naughty naughty smile.

Voyna i mir

It's taking me a long time to get through this monster of a book, but I will say this: 

It makes the other books I've got going (I usually have at least two or three) seem insipid by comparison. 

Not exactly enthusiastic

I am chairing a search for a new director of the university honors program.  Part of the application process is procuring a letter of support from the applicant's chair.  The below is the exact text (name redacted) of the letter of support I received for one of the candidates:

Dr. _____ has asked me to contact you concerning his application for the director’s position.  If Dr. ____ is successful in obtaining this position I believe that the Department of Engineering can handle with only minor inconveniences his 50% release time.

Okaaaaay . . . waiter, this coffee is tepid.