So You Think You Know...Christmas?

Wrapping paper or gift bags? Newspaper, painted with watercolors. Or recycled wrapping paper. Or recycled gift bags. Or that red plaid paper I BOUGHT (gasp!) new a couple of years ago because I liked it.

Real tree or artificial? Real. Period.

When do you put up the tree? As late as I can get away with it.

When do you take the tree down? Before CheerChick's birthday on December 28th.

Do you like eggnog? Only Devon's recipe. God I miss Devon right about now! (And many other times, too, but especially around Christmas.)

Favorite gift received as a child? An axe. Really.

Hardest person to buy for? Rach, of course.

Easiest person to buy for? Either of the kids, who have nice long lists.

Do you have a nativity scene? Yes. I wish Willie Nelson were in it, though, bringing his special gift to the Baby Jesus.

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

A Colbert Christmas: Willie Nelson Sings

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

Mail or e-mail Christmas cards? Mail. I'll get the ones to my friends out sometime over vacation, I hope.

Worst Christmas gift you ever received? No such thing...as long as it was given from the heart.

When do you start shopping for Christmas? Whenever I see something that I need to buy someone.

Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Who hasn't?

Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Whatever beast is roasted...lamb, beef, ham, 'possum...it's all good.

Lights on the tree? Too many. I'd like them to be LED, but I'm not sure that's going to happen.

Favorite Christmas song? "Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)", performed by either U2 or Darlene Love.

Travel at Christmas or stay home? I'd prefer to stay home on Christmas proper, but I don't mind a short jaunt to Weld for dinner with my parents.

Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? And Olive...the OTHER reindeer...

Angel on top of the tree, or a star? Beer can. (Not really.)

Presents on Christmas Eve or morning? Morning, but the sock is my favorite part.

Most annoying thing about this time of year? Crass commercialism and lack of commitment to peace on Earth.

Favorite ornament theme or color? Theme? I like all our homemade ornaments featuring the kids' pictures from over the years.

Favorite for Christmas dinner? Standing rib roast with garlic mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole. The beef was Woody's favorite, too.

What do you want for Christmas this year? Not much. Everyone to forget about why they think their religion is best, and lay down their weapons and prejudices.

Who is most likely to respond to this? Either SJ or Rach.

Who is least likely to respond to this? Whoever has the least time on his or her hands.

D-Day

When I watched National Lampoon's Animal House for the first time (I was 10...but a very mature 10...) my favorite character was not "Bluto" Blutarski, nor was it Flounder or Hoover. My favorite was the total badass, "D-Day" ("Ramming speed!")

And my favorite part of the movie was the end, where all of the heroes and ne'er-do-wells' personal histories (fictional, of course) are revealed to the viewer.

Recently came news from the New York Times that Daniel "D-Day" Laikin, National Lampoon Chief Executive, has been charged in conspiracy and security fraud to artificially inflate the stock of the company.

It is a career footnote worthy of the movie's closing credits.

Photo Friday: Weathered

While SJ has taken to posting sky pictures on a semi-regular weekly basis, I am somewhat less regular in my posting to Photo Friday. However, here's my entry for "Weathered". I'm hoping some of the prompts will get me taking more new pictures, but I wanted to share this one. It's an old yellow birch standing on the bank of the stream by our house.

I took this picture during one of the field studies for my master's course last winter (just finished my latest class last night...woohoo!) It's an ancient warrior, which--though it is no longer removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and giving us nice, clean oxygen--is still providing food and shelter for birds and small mammals. It's a great tree.

At 89

I was looking around on the Late Show With David Letterman website, because there was an interesting singer called Sia on. She painted her hands bright red and signed along with her singing. I was slightly intrigued, and wanted to find out more.

Then I got sidetracked by a link to Pete Seeger...PETE FREAKIN' SEEGER...who performed ON LETTERMAN. And I missed it. Unfortunately, the CBS website won't let me post the video here, but that's what YouTube is for. Yes, I'll link it a little later on, but you'll have to endure my reminiscences until then. Unless you just skip ahead, or skip it all together. Honestly, I'll never know the difference.

Anyway, Pete Seeger is one of my heroes. I may not always be in the mood to listen to him, but his ideals, his morality, his passion, his sheer love for life and what he does, are an inspiration to us all. Some of my earliest musical memories involve my parents' record collection on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Quite often the playlist involved "The Bullfrog", "Abiyoyo", and other childrens' songs. Other times, there were more socially conscious, politically motivated songs, including some of the things Pete did with Arlo Guthrie. The "Precious Friends" album sticks out. And then there were the Weavers, who showed up now and then.

I'll leave it to you to check on Pete's troubles with the House Un-American Activities Committee (he was blacklisted from network television for a good long time) and his pedigree as a great American. The thing that stands out to me most is that about nine years ago, three of us had the pleasure of seeing Pete perform at Rockland High School. At the time he was 78 or 79 years old, and he was sickly. There were many worries that this would be among his last performances.

Flash forward nine years. Pete has just put out an album (because it would just be silly to call it a "disc" or a "CD" when you're talking about Pete) called "At 89". Dude's 89 years old, and he's still actively performing, writing, and putting out new music. He leaves much more of the singing to his guests and audiences today, but that's the amazing thing: everyone ends up singing along with Pete. I've never seen David Letterman's audience sing along, but they did on this song. His banjo is marked with the words "This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender." Pete, keep on rockin'.

The "Blue" Planet

Today we spent quite a bit of time in class discussing carbon, carbon dioxide, and the effects of greenhouse gases. We played a nice little online game, where the students played the role of a carbon molecule making its way through the carbon cycle, and learning all along the way. One student asked if I had seen this video, and I hadn't. I love these guys. It's amazing how humor in the face of something so potentially grim as global climate change can be such a powerful educational tool.

A Thought That Made Me Giggle...The Link Between Coldplay and the Wiggles!

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Where is the Love?

We were sitting around at our staff meeting today, looking at the MEA scores for our school and wondering how we could help improve our students' performance in math. The discussion turned to how students don't just "do" math nowadays.

First of all, if I had a dime for every time I'd heard "students today just don't _____", I'd be a rich man. That only beats "families today just don't______" by a very slim margin. Fact is, we're teachers, and we play the cards we're dealt. Meet the kids where they are, and help them get farther on. But I digress.

I tried to think of a time in my life, especially my adolescence, when I just "did" math. I can remember getting up an hour before I normally would have (5:30?), to try to get my long division problems done. Mom was up with me, enduring the tears and the woe, and we somehow worked through it. Thanks mom, you unwittingly helped make the case for "families today" arguments. At any rate, that was somewhere around 4th grade. I wasn't into baseball in a sick, obsessed sort of way...yet.

Flash forward about two years. I'm a sixth grader, who lives and dies by the Red Sox. And magically, I had developed the ability to manipulate fractions and percentages to the extent that, by the end of his at bat, I could calculate what Dwight Evans' batting average would be at the end of the at bat, whether he got a hit or didn't.

Then, in eighth grade, I was into calculating shooting percentages and free throw percentages on our school basketball team. My FT% was easy, because when you don't make any free throws, 0% is really easy to calculate.

So somewhere along the line, someone confused my statistical sickness with the ability (or desire, or readiness) to do higher order math in eighth grade. Eighth grade algebra was a dismal failure. The teacher was good, he was entertaining, and he really tried to help me. I just wasn't ready, and I didn't care. Taking the class again in my freshman year wasn't much more successful, but I did manage to pass.

I don't really know what the point of all this is. Regular, everyday calculations have been easy since I used them on an everyday basis for things I enjoyed, so maybe we're onto something there. But the more abstract concepts have never come easy, even to this day. Physics took a serious toll on my self-esteem when I took it last summer, and statistics was the bane of my existence in my earlier grad school stint. But geometry and trig were fine during high school.

I think I've figured out what the point of all this is: the point is, "meet the kids where they are, and help them get farther on." Sometimes digression can lead you to an clarity.

Funniest Sports Ads

I was sitting around on a Sunday (nothing new here!) reading the posts on Sons of Sam Horn. There was a thread devoted to Greg Maddux's imminent retirement from baseball, and I was prompted to post my memories of Maddux. Here is my post:

"We drove to Montreal in July of '03 to see Vladimir Guerrero. Had great seats in the front row of the RF bleachers. Ron Calloway started in Vladdy's place, thus reinforcing the old adage that you NEVER buy tickets to a Sunday game if you want to see the stars.

Anyway, Maddux went six innings, against Tomo Ohka. He gave up six runs and two homers, the deciding blow coming from...wait for it...Ron Calloway.

I can still say I saw the three best pitchers of their era live, though, in Pedro, Roger and Maddux. As I recall, all three got lit up when I watched them.

Oh, and "Chicks dig the longball."*"

*Here is your video for reference:


Then Rach suggested someone (Translated:"ahem...that means YOU!") do a post on the best sports related commercials of all time. Well, I've taken it upon myself to gather a few that I consider to be very good, but it is by no means an exhaustive list.

Bo Jackson, who made so many of us feel inadequate as athletes:

Gretzky's performance is almost as good as Glavine in the previous clip.

There were a lot of good Michael Jordan ads, but this one stands out for me, probably because it pairs him with Larry Legend:

"Nothin' But Net"

Arguably, this one got it started:

"Tastes great!" "Less filling!"

Now before I'm overrun with "What about Mean Joe Greene? That was the best EVAH!", let me just emphasize that I don't want to pollute this space with glurge. It's cute, but it's not that funny.

How about Sugar Ray Leonard? This guy singlehandedly made boxing relevant in the years when the heavyweights were bashing each others' brains out; he was just a breath of classy air in a brutish sport. I can't find the one he made with his son:

Boy 1: "Hey, is that the champ?"
Sugar Ray's Kid: "Naw, that's just my dad."

Another one I wish I could find is Eddie Murray's spot from the 90's where there's a little jingle to the tune of "Turkey in the Straw" singing about his career accomplishments ("...and a three time winner of a Golden Glove") and at the end, a young fan comments about the laconic Murray: "That's not tired, that's DEE-termination!" Eddie was a man of few words, but one HELL of a hitter.

The last one I wish I could find for you is one where Randy Johnson is playing dodgeball. That's just a flat-out funny concept, and it just might have been the inspiration for the Ben Stiller movie.

If any of you stumbles upon any of these missing gems, please contact me or post them.

Please vote in the poll at the upper right of your browser, and if your answer would be "none of the above", either don't vote, or drop me your favorite in the comments. I might even add your suggestions!

I'll leave you with this, and let you chime in with your own thoughts. I know I'm in the minority, being a Patriots fan who thinks Peyton Manning is pretty awesome, and here is why:

"Cut that meat! Cut that meat!"

Photo Friday Challenge

SJ's Sky Photo entry linked me to another photo challenge: the Photo Friday Challenge. Today's challenge is "food", and a whole bunch of people in this circle would be up for that challenge (Amity? Krazy Karoline?)! This is my entry:

Amity, I'm sorry I got all the garlic in the ground this fall without having you over to see the process. It's really easy, though.

The Beehive Collective

The Beehive Collective: full time volunteers based in Machias, making some incredible sociopolitically inspired tapestries. They restored local grange hall as their home, and have turned it back into a community center. They go on tour with their tapestries, exhibiting them at colleges and being paid in honoraria. They also show their work at high schools, where they get their bigger impact: usually when they exhibit at colleges, the students who show up are "the choir", and don't need to be preached to. To say these folks are liberal is analogous to saying the weather this year has been crappy. The next tapestry they are working on has mountaintop removal as its theme.

The tapestry in front of me stretches diagonally across the room, about thirty feet, and it depicts the political and social conditions in Colombia, as influenced by geopolitical and historical events. Directly in front of me there is an ant colony, where worker ants seem to be reading about organizing labor, watching television, plotting military strategy, and other activities. Different corporate labels (Monsanto, Chiquita, BP, Coca Cola, DynCorp, Ford) find their ways into the tapestry, and not in the most flattering of light.

I've seen these folks exhibiting at Common Ground before, but never really stopped to find out about what their story was.

This could be a really cool way to have students tell human stories in ways that make sense to them. It is interesting to watch these kids opening up a little bit, explaining what they see in the symbolism and imagery of the tapestry. This would be a really cool way to have kids show what they know in an interdisciplinary unit. (Joe, you feelin' me? Amity? Mike?)


Mission statement of the Beehive Collective: "to cross-pollinate the grassroots".

Feeling Good

I'm at the Maine Youth Action Network conference in Bar Harbor today. There are about 350 attendees, including middle school students, high school students, and the adults who love working with them enough to endure ridiculously low salaries to do what they love.

Shortly after the keynote (not really very effectively done, but the guy has an impressive record of anti-tobacco activism at the tender age of 19) I ran into a former student who is now a senior at our local high school. She endured three years of me as her science teacher, and one as her language arts teacher, and was a member of my favorite class ever. To this day, every time I see her she exclaims that I was her "favorite teacher ever". That's not a brag, and I certainly don't claim to have done anything to have earned that particular accolade, but I use it to set the scene.

So after hugs and some small talk, I asked her what is happening for her next year. I was flabbergasted to hear she is hoping to enter Pre-Med at UVM next fall. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't flabbergasted because she has dreams of Pre-Med. And it doesn't shock me in the least that she is considering a very good school. No, it was the fact that this is one of the most intelligent kids I've ever taught, who--though she coasted through my sixth, seventh and eighth grade science classes--I never pegged for being a particularly science-oriented person. She always had a book, and usually it was pretty challenging reading. Check that: she always had a book going, and usually she had it going simultaneously with my lessons. But she was a very capable multi-tasker, and even when I tried to trip her up, she knew right where we were, even in the middle of Return of the King. This is one sharp kid. Anyway, I view it as vindication of my teaching methods that she told me when they did Punnett Squares in honors biology, she had no problem while most of the others in the class simply didn't get it.

It excites me that at least one of my students is going into a scientific field, and I think I had some small part in helping develop her passion for science. That feels damn good.

It's Not Really a Celebration

I saw pieces of this video on the NBC Nightly News tonight, and felt I needed a place I could get back to it and watch it when I wanted to. Earlier tonight, Cheerchick said "I don't think we should celebrate Veterans Day." I asked her why, and she said "Because we shouldn't have the war in the first place." Though I couldn't agree with her more on that point, I asked whether she thought it was important to remember all those people who have died in wars. She said yes, it is important to remember them. I then explained that we don't really "celebrate", but we remember the sacrifices made by people who have served our country in the military.

There will be some deep and amazing discussions in the not too distant future as my kids attempt to figure out when--or if--war is ever justified. Unfortunately, I think war is part of our DNA, but the idealist in me says if we didn't have willing warriors, we couldn't have war. And then, of course, there are the battles that have to be joined, even when we're reluctant, because evil must be met head-on. I only hope that we are entering a phase of foreign policy where we will only enter righteous battles. I am tired of any blood--American or otherwise--being spilled needlessly.

At any rate, this video grabbed me. Black and white. No sound. And it is real.

Change Has Come.

Wow. 11pm, and NBC has declared Barack Hussein Obama the 44th President of the United States of America. I am in tears.

Grant Park East

The entire family is in the living room, watching the returns come in. 270 is the magic number, and if you trust MSNBC, there are fewer than 100 to go (currently Barack 175/McCain 70). I'm hoping to get the kids off to bed by ten. That would be a landslide, in my book.

On the Dole

Elizabeth Dole, who ran a MORE shameful campaign than Soo-Sin, appears to have been defeated in North Carolina. Kind of makes me wish Collins had called Allen "godless", or something equally meaningless. It might have turned the tide.

Soo-sin Wins.

NBC projecting Soo-Sin Collins as the winner over Tom Allen. Her campaign was shameful, but effective.

Meanwhile, Virginia numbers don't look all that good for Barack UNLESS...you realize that the precincts reporting are the rural precincts, and Northern Virginia hasn't reported yet. As someone on fivethirtyeight pointed out, the "fake" Virginia takes longer. I still have hope...and that's what this is all about.

Virginia is for (Barack) Lovers

It looks like the night could be very short if Virginia goes Obama's way. I've become a serious junkie at this site and they are also reporting some encouraging happenings in Indiana, where they say he is "substantially outperforming" John Kerry's 2004 performance in that state.

Dare we hope?

A Change is Gonna Come

It is 6:46 pm Eastern Standard Time, and the results should start rolling in soon. My stomach is fluttery. I'm unbelievably nervous about this election, though everything I'm seeing is treating an Obama victory as a foregone conclusion. I can't let myself believe it, and I'm simply in awe of what might happen tonight. Below is a video of Sam Cooke performing "A Change is Gonna Come". The story goes that Cooke wrote it in reply to Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind" in 1964 because he was so amazed that a white man could write such a powerful song about race relations.

I can't believe this hasn't registered with me before now that this has been such a staple in the Obama appearances, but it is perfect. Of course soul greats Aretha Franklin and Otis Redding recorded their versions of this song, and it has been a touchstone for the civil rights movement. But it has also been an iconic song for all Americans--and others--seeking true freedom: some of my favorites on my iPod have also recorded their own takes on this song, including Billy Bragg, Cold War Kids, and Arcade Fire, a Montreal band that is so fervent in their support of Obama that they recorded their own version. I'm going to be blogging this election night live, so feel free to keep checking in if you're so inclined. Meantime, here's Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come".

So Much for the Trifecta...I'll Have to Settle for the Quinella

So last Friday night, Rach and I were fortunate enough to catch Richard Thompson at South Portland High School (?!?) where he was playing a rescheduled show. This was after his unfortunate run-in with a scorpion last spring. We'd just seen him do his "1,000 Years of Popular Music" show at the Stone Mountain Arts Center in Brownfield about two months previous, so we didn't spring for tickets at the time. Rach wasn't all that excited about the show because he didn't play one of her all-time favorite songs, "'52 Vincent Black Lightning". There was good reason for disappointment, as it is an amazing song, with some of the craziest finger-style playing you're likely to ever see or hear. But RT put on an amazing show that night, and I was totally blown away by his versatility and the power of his playing. He didn't play the tune below that night either, but man, he makes even Britney Spears look good. He did do a brutal version of Nellie Furtado's "Maneater" that night, and an amazing cover of the Easybeats' "Friday On My Mind", which, if I'd had my eyes closed, I would have sworn had him playing three different guitars simultaneously.

His show last Friday was the one Rach hoped for: solo RT for about two solid hours, and three encores. The ONLY drawback was the boomers in the audience (sorry if any of my boomer readers take offense) hollering out requests a la "FREEBIRD". And he dropped "'52 Vincent" on us. Simply amazing.



This Friday night we are making the trip to Brownfield again, kids in tow, to catch Peter Mulvey. He is not as famous as RT, but is a great guy, a fantastic songwriter and story teller, and he can shred an acoustic guitar pretty well, too. (NB: see what he does from about 2:20-2:40...if you've ever tried to play guitar, your jaw will likely drop...the only similar thing about my guitar playing to Peter's is that we use the same capo.) Last I knew there are still tickets available for this amazing show, at a pretty cool venue. $20. C'mon, what else would you be doing on a Friday night?



So, on successive Friday nights, we'll be hitting paydirt, hence the "Quinella" I mentioned in the title. But there was a fleeting chance that I was going to hit the Trifecta this week. I was listening to my iTunes last week, and Billy Bragg's "Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards" came on. I wondered to myself if Billy was on tour anytime soon. I checked out his website, and OH MY GOD!!!!, he is playing tomorrow night (Thursday) in Lebanon, NH. Billy Bragg is one of my rock 'n roll idols, described in some circles as "a one-man Clash". He and John Doe of X are the two guys I'd most like to have been if I'd been a "rock star" (so, yeah, I'd like to be more of a "cult rock star").

Suffice to say, this week has been hell, and I decided to hold off and make a game-time decision as to whether I'd drive the three hours out-and-back to Lebanon. I just can't do it. I have a feeling I wouldn't see Peru alive again. So I'm kinda glad I didn't bet the Trifecta, but I'm providing it here for you on There's Always Someone Cooler Than You. It's my pledge week gift to my loyal readers. Henry Rollins says "1(800)866-1475...that's the number to call to keep this great resource coming to you. It couldn't happen without you. 1(800)866-1475. And this is a matching pledge break, so your money will do double duty."

Anyway, Billy is not the great guitarist that the other two guys on here are, but he is one of my panoply. The lyrics to this updated version of "Waiting" are quite different from when the Soviet Union was still intact, but even more salient today. Rock on, Billy...without me.

Being John McCain

This kind of says it all. I think he was just being philosophical, referring to the "Allegory of the Cave". Maybe that's why Sarah looks so startled when he utters the brilliant line...



...she just hasn't extended the metaphor as far as John has. Or maybe she's just realizing her wagon's been hitched to a train...running over the edge of a cliff...into a pit of piranhas...that are made of nuclear waste.

Classroom Assessments and other stuff

Well, with 2 hours and 40 minutes remaining in the month, there is time yet for one more post in the month of September. I'd feel worse about the dearth of writing on my blog if I weren't actually doing things, but I really am busy. I feel like I should go back into coaching high school soccer so I might have more free time.

The class I'm taking this quarter is on classroom assessment. It is highly useful, and this time I can actually understand what the textbook is trying to tell me! Long story short, it is all about techniques teachers can use to actually affect student performance positively through formal and informal assessments. We're not talking big ol' Princeton-style standardized tests here, though. We're talking one-sentence summaries, Preconception/Misconception Checks, and something called "The Muddiest Point", where students submit the parts of their learning about which they are most confused. Much of the time these assessments are administered anonymously, so what the teacher REALLY gets is how well the class is understanding the main ideas they are supposed to be getting.

What I like most is the idea that students aren't being measured against each other in some sort of competition. They are being measured by their own capabilities and understanding, and against some standards that have been identified as vital to their mastery of the subject matter. Grades are compiled as a guide to the students' paths to their education, rather than as a social norm that tells very little about what they can do or how well they can apply what they know.

Besides the class, I've been helping to coach my kids' soccer teams, developing an after school program through the River Valley Healthy Communities Coalition, becoming more involved in the Dirigo Educators Association, setting up a family night to view the Draconid meteor showers at school, and being a team leader for the seventh grade team. It's been kind of a crazy month.

So while I am busy, it is a good kind of busy. I'm just looking forward to a time when I can be lazy. A good kind of lazy.

It's Getting Ugly!

All right, so now the McCain/Palin crazies are trying to turn around the phrase "you can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig", which Obama used in a speech on Tuesday to characterize Republican policies. People, it's an old phrase. It's been used for many years to illustrate the foolishness of prettifying something ugly, but not changing it fundamentally (reminds me of a certain Republican ticket...but I digress...).

But then Good Ol' GSWLTF used this joke in her speech accepting the party's nomination for VP: "What's the difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull? Lipstick." Even I almost cracked a smile when she delivered this line. She'd obviously practiced it for comedic effect. Her timing was impeccable, and her delivery deadpan. I was impressed. But now, it seems the Republican Party seems to think GSWLTF has a copyright on lipstick or something. This will come as a bit of a surprise to Revlon, I'm sure.

Anyway, my take is this: Palin opened the sty door when she used the joke, and whether it was intentional on Obama's part or not, it seems to be fair game. The gun totin', caribou-killin', oil-drinkin', bridge-to-nowhere-lovin' VP candidate should be able to handle herself in the heat of a campaign, yet the chivalrous door holding white males of the Republican Party are stumbling over themselves to defend her honor. Meanwhile they make up lies about Obama wanting to teach kindergartners about the ins and outs of sex, and of consorting with terrorists. So a little comment about lipstick on a pig? Well, if the mud fits...

It Must Be Sweeps Week...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Palin in Comparison...

I'm feeling particularly masochistic tonight, watching Sarah Palin's address to the Republican National Convention. I must not have fulfilled my monthly quota of pablum, "aw, shucks-ism", late to the party Hillary worship, and empty jingoism. At any rate, I almost gagged when the GSWLF (I couldn't leave the "I'd" in the acronym, so I've substituted "some would" instead) introduced her family, and especially her hubby. "After twenty years, he's still my guy!" Bleah.

I guess the thing ringing emptiest to me is the screeching cries of the Republicans of sexism on the part of Democrats: that somehow we are implying she can't find time for her five children if she is Vice President. Frankly, if she were to treat the job of VP the way it's supposed to be treated--as opposed to Cheney's de facto shadow President--she is eminently qualified, as a former beauty pageant champion. Shouldn't the VP job really be window dressing? And if she were VP, maybe she'd have more time to spend with her kids than she has as governor, doing all sorts of important parental things, like, oh, I don't know...talking to them?

I love her snotty witticisms. I love how she toes the party line of perpetuating fear in order to garner votes.

I love how she refers to herself as a "gal". I love how the idiotic sheep in the audience keep chanting "Drill, baby, drill!" Mmmm. Let's drill our way out of this particular set of problems.

I love how this crowd is whipped into a frenzy by such an apparent lightweight. It gives me hope for the next eight years, because we simply can't be stupid enough to fall for this again...can we?

Quite a Weekend

Well, the Labor Day Weekend has been quite something.

I awoke Saturday to the news that John McCain had named Sarah Palin as his running mate. A quick Google search, and I'd been introduced to the term "GILF" If you're not familiar, quickly click this link for "MILF" (language is rated R, for those with sensitive sensibilities), and then substitute "Governor" for the first word of the acronym. It wasn't long before all sorts of sordid rumors began to surface about her, which I won't dignify in this space. Y'all are capable of looking up dirt on your own. But what struck me is that here McCain's been spending all of this time impugning Obama's fitness for the presidency based on his inexperience, and then he grabs up the first Pro-Life hottie with five kids from an oil-rich state who pops up, regardless of the fact that she's been a governor for a shorter period of time than Obama's been a candidate for President. But have no fear, she does have more extensive executive experience: she was previously the mayor of a town of 9,000. And was on the PTA...which is probably the highest qualification on her resume. Don't get me wrong, Ms. Palin is probably a pretty competent person, and I don't question her intelligence. She does believe we should be teaching creationism in science classes, which makes me question her understanding of constitutional issues, but that's another point entirely. What was most interesting in THIS morning's news is that there is now going to be another "G" word that can be substituted for the "M" word in "MILF": grandmother. Again, that certainly doesn't disqualify her for the job, and her public statement about her daughter's pregnancy strikes the right tone, but I guess my main objection is this is just the type of thing that conservatives love to attack liberals for, and I have a feeling she's going to get a pass on this one from the conservative wing of the Republican party because it is politically expedient to excuse it.

One more thing about McCain, and then I promise to stop: do you think he asked Condoleezza Rice? Because if he didn't, that was the dumbest thing that ever happened. If he wanted to try to take over the Hillary wing of the Democratic party, she was his shining hope. Because do you really think the Pro-Life and evangelical wings were really going to jump ship and vote Democrat? Here is a person with very strong credentials, experience in the highest levels of foreign policy, by most accounts is a very intelligent person (service for the Bush II administration notwithstanding), she counteracts the minority factor enjoyed by Obama, and let's not forget, she carries two--count 'em!--two X chromosomes. Sarah who?

Anyway, Saturday was spent McCain's bombshell, coaching peewee soccer, and wrangling up some lobsters and salmon for a Labor Day Weekend feed. Life is good in late summer.

Then on Sunday we headed to Portland for the Sea Dogs. This was not just any Sea Dogs game, however, and it wasn't important for anything that happened on the field. As a matter of fact, the coolest thing happened on the top of the visitors' dugout in the middle of the first inning.

Back in the spring, Rach found an opportunity for our kids to do some writing and possibly earn a scholarship from NexGen and the Sea Dogs. They had to write a 250 word essay stating whether they would choose to take a scholarship to college to play a sport, or to represent their country in the Olympics. There were three divisions: elementary, middle and high school, and the winners would get a $1000 scholarship. With some heavy prodding, especially from their mom, both kids entered the contest.

The summer went by, and no word came about the contest. Weather Lad asked whether we knew anything, and Rach said since we hadn't heard, she was assuming they must not have chosen his. Then, a couple of weeks ago, we were told that WL was a finalist in his division, and that on August 30th there would be four tickets to the Sea Dogs waiting for him at Will Call. We were all so excited and proud that he'd been chosen as a finalist! We wondered how many other finalists there were, and with guarded optimism, kept thinking "how cool! Even if he doesn't win, we all get to spend a day at Hadlock, watching the Sea Dogs and having a great time!"

We picked up the tickets, with great seats in section 212, row E (right behind home plate and directly above the entrance, so no one would block our view). We were told that a representative of the Sea Dogs would come give us more information before the game. About five minutes prior to scheduled game time, true to their word, a Sea Dogs employee came and told WL that he would meet him on the concourse above the visitors' dugout in the middle of the first inning. The man contacted a few more people, and then was off. Sitting right next to us was a freshman at UMaine who had entered the contest last spring, when she was a senior at Rockland. A nice young lady, she held a bag for Camp Mechuwana, where I attended music camp three times back in the 80's. That was good for small talk.

The pre-game festivities began ("Field of Dreams" day...Hadlock Field..."if you build it, they will come"...players in circa 1923 Portland Eskimos throwback uniforms...entering the field through cornstalks set up in center field, then coming into the stands to show their appreciation to the fans: it was hokey, but fun.)

Then the game began, the top of the first flew by, and Rach and WL made their way down to await word on his fate. As I looked down at the concourse, it seemed there were fewer kids there than I expected. Rach signaled up to me with three fingers, which I assumed to mean there were three finalists for each age group. The stadium announcer drew everyone's attention to the third base dugout, where a representative from NexGen said a few words, and then three kids, one of them WL, were escorted up to the top of the dugout. The high school girl who was seated next to us was presented her scholarship. The middle school age winner was announced. And then, WL, as shocked as he could be (really, why do you think only three kids were called up on the dugout? God bless his naivete...) was announced in front of 3,700 people as the grade k-5 winner of the NextGen/Sea Dogs Field of Dreams scholarship. He began crying in joy. It was quite a moment.

Honestly, if the circumstances had been different, I might have flipped out on the lady about five rows back who bellowed--absolutely BELLOWED--Seussian cheers for the Sea Dogs FOR THE ENTIRE GAME ("Through thick and thin, YOU'RE OUR KIN, and WE NEVER GIVE UP!", and "Come on HALL, hit it over the WALL!", and "Come on LARS, hit it to MARS!", "Come on ZACK, use your BACK!". "We're behind you ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!") My kids saw a different side of me, as I mumbled wise-guy responses: "It's kind of fun to be QUIET...You ought to TRY IT!", and the like. But given the beautiful day, the circumstances, and the fact that the hometown team clinched a playoff berth even as they lost 5-4, thanks to the ineptitude of the Binghamton Mets. Add to that a Clay Buchholz sighting in his street clothes, and a dinner at the Great Lost Bear, and you've got a pretty good day.

Later that night we watched Food Network where Bobby Flay took on an Asian dumpling throwdown. They looked so good that I dreamed about them on Sunday night, and Monday was largely devoted to drinking good coffee, kicking back, and making some pretty yummy Asian dumplings (recipe...with some substitutions).

Tomorrow it's back to school, and that is just fine. It was a great weekend.

Long Time, No See...

It's been a while since I last logged in to the blog. I've been bad.

The world has changed since I last wrote: my wife went away and came back*; a war started; the Olympics began; the family and I went to Cape Cod; ten cords of wood showed up at the house, and now I have to house it; it's rained pretty much every single day; oh, and then there was this thing about some left fielder in Boston**. I didn't hear much about it, but apparently some people were pretty worked up about it.

*It's not quite as dramatic as that: she went out to California for a few days to visit her ailing uncle. Then she came back. But I wondered whether she would...

**I LOVE JASON BAY!!! He's still with the Pirates, right? I think if the Red Sox could get that guy, this whole Manny thing might go away. Theo, make it so. ***

***Apparently I've been a little out of the loop. Welcome to Boston, Jason Bay.

Anyway, I think the point has been made. I've been away for a while. I've been away so long, I'm holding conversations with a volleyball named Mr. Wilson. (Incidentally, isn't it time for another Tom Hanks movie? What's the last bad movie you saw that had Tom Hanks?****)

****The title was "The Terminal", but I just called it interminable.

So what is the point to all of this? The point is I've been away too long. The good news is that my physics class ends this week, and that, in my estimation, is the culprit for all this time away from the keyboard. I vow to do better. Though I've been neglecting you all, my newfound classmates on line have benefited greatly from my input. We were talking about electric charges, and since it was about all I had to contribute (here I am a 7th grade science teacher and I'm just taking my first physics class...what a farce!) I started a thread called "Behold, the dryer sheet". Believe it or not, it was one of the more popular threads of last week. What a proud moment in my education.

So, let me sign off now with the solemn vow to spend a little more time spilling my thoughts on you. When I have time.

Blogging Live From the MEA Conference

Silly me, I forgot my camera so I can't share any pictures of Southern Maine Community College, so I've linked it. Amazing how this place has changed since the mid 90's when I came down to apply for a youth mentoring position. It's Tuesday, and my Web2.0 workshop began at 2 pm, and I'm feeling a little too proficient. After all, I have a blog, I have a MySpace account (never use it) and I'm not YouTube phobic. I was hoping there would be people here who were using Web2.0 in classrooms, but mostly it's people who are just progressing beyond email. No problem. There are some cool things that go along with the presentation that I can take home.

We're also moving toward talking about using Web2.0 applications for association issues. That could be very useful to the Dirigo Education Association, sharing information and ideas between leadership and membership. Lord knows we can use that.

I am commuting during this conference, because of my aforementioned Conceptual Physics class. I know that if I were to stay down here I'd end up frittering away my time, not doing my physics work, not being able to use my equipment at school. This way I can spend an hour and a half driving each way for the next three days, then frittering away my time in the comfort of my own living room. Easy peasy!

But seriously, I found a cool way for me to use that time effectively: I'm listening to my Richard Muller "Physics for Future Presidents" lectures on iTunes while I commute! This week we are talking about waves, light and sound. The Muller lectures will be my companion for the week.

Tomorrow and Thursday I will be in the "New Leaders Academy". Somehow I feel like the Politburo is molding me to the will of the party, and I am becoming part of the apparatchik. I'm simply not good at making my mind play along with these activities. Is it weird that I'd really rather be working on my physics?

Where y'at?

Not that I expect a whole lot of exotic locales outside of the River Valley...

...and proud of it!

67% Geek
67%
...but if I were a TECH geek I could figure out why this graphic comes out all funky. Andi I'd even care.

Created by OnePlusYou

Renaissance Man

Thanks to SJ, there are all these "memes" for us to post, and take the place of the real effort of blogging. Apparently I'm a renaissance man--which I think must be code for "not good enough at anything in particular to claim it as a skill". I have a difficult time comparing myself to da Vinci, but I like to think I'm as studly as the Vitruvian Man...and I also like to think of jelly donuts as fruit and fiber.

Which Famous Artist Are You?
	You are part Leonardo da Vinci. You are the "Renaissance man" and you live to be productive. Great at everything you put your mind to, you have great passion and drive. But of all qualities, your curiosity is your best trait.
	You are part Ansel Adams. Your artistic tool of choice is the camera, but you've got lots of other skills as well. Spoiled when you were young, you grew up to be a loving person and you have a deep affinity for nature and all things black and white.
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com

Wordle Up!

Man, if I thought there were people out there clamoring for my posts, I'd feel guilty about my inactivity. Conceptual Physics is using up most of my RAM, so I haven't even given much thought to what I'd say even if I could blog. Thank goodness for Wordle.

I love that "nekkid" shows up...



...but where the heck is "shuttlecock"? Tell me if you find it.

Coming Home in Pieces

I don't have much to say about this, except I debated posting it because of the graphic footage of the reality of war. James is one of my favorite bands, and I think the lyrics of this song express my feelings about Iraq quite perfectly.




The James album "Hey Ma" will be released in the U.S. in September, but I found it on eBay as an import, in case you are interested.

But Enough About Me...or Not...

I am...

having a hard time keeping up with blogging, especially now that summer is acting like summer.


I want....

to want less.


I have...

never understood the fascination with Michael Jackson. Or Madonna.


I wish...

there were a way for me to drop out of society and farm garlic for a living.


I hate...

bigotry.


I fear...

very little except for my childrens' and grandchildrens' futures.


I hear...

the voices of generations before in the words of my students.


I search...

for rainbows every time the sun shines after rain.


I wonder...

how we're going to use our ingenuity to get out of this mess.


I regret...

anything I've ever done that wasn't in line with what my heart told me to do. My heart is usually right.


I love...

rain on a metal roof.


I ache...

in the morning, sometimes when I sit too long, after gardening...pretty much always.


I always...

avoid answering the telephone when there is someone else around to answer it.


I usually...

treat everyone with respect they deserve. I wish this could be an "I always..."


I am not...

into yoga/and I have half a brain...(any Rupert Holmes fans out there?)


I dance...

only to music that I find worthy of the energy, and only spontaneously.


I sing...

better than I think I do. I'm working on my confidence.


I never...

have had much confidence in my abilities.


I rarely...

argue when I don't know I'm right. It's an infuriating trait to some.


I cry....

more about happy things than about sad.


I am not always...

good at remembering.


I lose...

my temper very rarely, but it's not pretty when I do.


I'm confused...

about the formulas in the physics class I'm taking. Old mental blocks die hard.


I miss...

Too Much Joy. They wrote the soundtrack for my life from age 18 to 30.


I need...

much less than I want.


I should...

eat less meat.

"Those Swim Trunks Are Dope!"

Note: This entry is about sports. I promise to try and treat the topic in a manner befitting it and keep it light. Sports really shouldn't be taken as seriously as we take them.

So, we were sitting around watching the U.S. Olympic Swimming Team Trials with Mike and Katie tonight, and talking about the technology. I don't know if any of you have watched swimming lately, but there aren't too many OOB-ready Speedos in the pool these days.

The latest in controversial swim wear is not controversial for what it doesn't cover, but for what it DOES cover: Olympic distances in world record times.


The Speedo LZR Racer swimsuit is made with NASA technology, the seams sealed with a laser to reduce drag. The fabric reduces drag by 10%, and increases "oxygen efficiency" (whatever that is). Swimmers are corseted into the suits, with all of their "parts" held into a more aerodynamic--ahem--"package". Of the 22 swimming world records to fall since March, 21 of them were broken by swimmers wearing the LZR. Each suit runs around $500 retail, but of course the elite swimmers get a deal. This leaves "lesser" swimmers splashing around in the shallow end of the pool, looking for money to improve their performances.

Mike mentioned the term "tech doping", which is what one Italian swim coach has called this technological advance.

But sports has seen technological advances before: can you imagine how badminton would look today if we still used live turkeys instead of shuttlecocks? Really, that's why we started calling them "birdies". You could look it up, but I don't suggest it. And at one point, golf balls were pouches of leather filled with feathers. Which led to making "birdies" and "eagles" on the links. It all comes together, now, doesn't it?

But I digress...often...and unabashedly. It occurred to me that the most fair way around all of this is to begin a movement. The Nekkid Olympics.

Some sports are far better suited to the Nekkid Olympics movement, and swimming is one of the best. First off, if you've never skinny dipped, you owe it to yourself. I can't imagine any feeling that would more closely approximate what it must feel like in the womb, before we are born. Our elite swimmers should compete against each other naked, to remove any technological advantages enjoyed by some.

Keep in mind, the earliest Olympians competed nude, if we are to believe what history books tell us*.

*I wouldn't advise it.

Floor exercise in gymnastics might work, as well as the bars, the rings, and the vault. However, the pommel horse might prove too revealing: the Thomas Flair indeed!

Track would be fine, I think, except the hurdles and the pole vault.

However, I really don't want to see weightlifting in that particular light. Let's keep those athletes clothed. As a matter of fact, let's make them wear MORE clothes. Please. And the one event we have historic proof of being contested nude, Greco-Roman wrestling, should also happen while fully clothed...at least on the global stage. What people do in the privacy of their own homes is their own business.

The Hot 100

1) I sweat when the dew point gets above 30˚F...
2) even if the temperature is below 3˚C.
3) I fancy myself a sports fan...
4) but music is really my first love...
5) but really my first love is my family...
6) and especially my wife. (Didn't think I could save that, did you?)
7) I love John Stewart and Stephen Colbert because they are clever...
8) and hate country music that tries to be clever.
9) When I was a kid the only garden chore I would do is hit rocks out of it with a stick...
10) and I've taught Weather Lad he can perform the same chore.
11) I've lost every competitive fiber in my body since high school.
12) That doesn't bother me.
13) I considered doing this list with song lyrics that contained each number.
14) Sadly, I could probably get pretty far with that.
15) It saddens me how far Mike Myers has fallen...
16) and Eddie Murphy...
17) and Adam Sandler.
18) Writing in this fashion severely cramps my style...
19) and it's probably good for me.
20) In my freshman picture from high school I look like Wil Ferrell in the cowbell skit, minus the sunglasses (I presume you've met my belly in previous pictures?)
21) Wil Ferrell makes me laugh even in his most stupid moments.
22) Jim Carrey does not make me laugh, except in his least stupid moments.
23) My favorite baseball players are the ones who do the little things right...
24) which is why Dwight Evans is my all-time favorite (the REAL #24--sorry, Manny)
25) I admire the detail-oriented people in my life...
26) though sometimes I don't understand them.
27) I fail to see why anyone would want to spend their time reading this.
28) I believe kids need to spend less time doing things adults are running.
29) I believe nations should be abolished and dissolved...
30) but I have no idea how this happens.
31) It's pretty damned sad that Zimbabwe is making Kenya look good right now.
32) As unlikely as it is, I feel Obama could actually make a difference. Call me a cockeyed optimist, but that's how I see it.
33) I originally attended college at Marist in Poughkeepsie, NY.
34) I was a communications major, intent on being the next Dan Rather.
35) That lasted one semester, as I hated New York and the frantic pace.
36) My communications experience was finally put to use at WABI-TV 5 in Bangor.
37) I was a production assistant for $5.75 an hour.
38) If the pay had been better, I might have stayed in television.
39) My faith in America has been profoundly shaken by the Bush II administration...
40) and that is no exaggeration.
41) I was born in Barnstable, MA, and lived the first 8 years of my life on Cape Cod.
42) My parents worked at Camp Arcadia in Otisfield, and moved the family to Weld when we visited some friends there and decided it was the place for us.
43) This fall will be the first soccer season in 15 years that I'm not coaching school soccer.
44) That doesn't seem possible.
45) The last time that happened I was a grad student at the University of Tennessee.
46) MS in Political Science, if you must know. One year. $15,000. Some lessons are more expensive than others.
47) I have just been accepted into the MS in Science Education program at Montana St.
48) I don't plan to drop out of this program.
49) I take pleasure in the simple things...
50) I love my headphones...
51) and my wedding ring.
52) That was for Rach.
53) Human nature scares the hell out of me. We're pretty ingenious, but not very smart.
54) The concept of hunting appeals to me, but I'm not good at killing things.
55) The only mammal I've ever intentionally killed was a woodchuck...
56) in my mother's garden, with a Browning .22.
57) It really bothered me.
58) Oh, yeah, I've killed countless mice with traps.
59) This doesn't bother me in the least.
60) Somehow, fishing doesn't bother me, either.
61) I borrowed "The Omnivore's Dilemma" from Sue BC and I hope to get a chance to read it.
62) I have one sister who is six years older than me.
63) We get along great, but I'm not very good at keeping in touch.
64) The lure of Aunt Beast is calling; I can't wait to take her out.
65) The best part of marriage is the shared experiences and points of reference.
66) I love that we already had so many shared points of reference before we even met.
67) My short-term memory is horrible, and it has nothing to do with THC. I was born this way.
68) I can definitely relate to Dory.
69) The Olympics in Beijing are going to be hard to watch, but I'll do it anyway.
70) B-minor is my hardest chord to play on my guitar.
71) I love my guitar, a Seagull Artist M series, made from sustainable Canadian cedar.
72) Bedazzling simply freaks me out.
73) My summer list of to-do's includes an Earth oven.
74) It's almost time to begin my summer professional reading.
75) I enjoy the way I've become more true to my ideals as I've gotten older.
76) My mid-life crisis is not likely to involve an expensive sports car, but an expensive electric guitar.
77) This is harder than I thought it would be.
78) Sweet William is my favorite flower.
79) I get more pleasure than I should from mowing my lawn.
80) If I could ever get a dog I'd look into Bernese Mountain Dogs.
81) The one summer when my cantaloupes flourished was my favorite garden EVER.
82) My garden is a constant source of joy...
83) as well as frustration and disappointment.
84) I'm troubled by society's misguided attitudes toward winning and losing.
85) When I was a kid, all I wanted to be able to do was dunk a basketball.
86) As a freshman, I could grab the rim.
87) That was as good as it ever got, but I was a pretty tough rebounder.
88) My large butt was the main reason for my rebounding success: hard to get around me!
89) I quit baseball after eighth grade because I didn't think I could hit anymore.
90) Then I ran track, and am glad I did.
91) When I moved to Peru I played fast pitch softball in the Oxie League.
92) Turns out I could still hit pretty well...I miss it.
93) I had back surgery about 8 years ago, and my body won't tolerate anything high impact for very long anymore.
94) My back is really good, and biking doesn't seem to bother it much.
95) I will be trading my upright diamond frame bike for a recumbent tadpole trike in the near future...
96) so I can do a cross country ride.
97) Sometimes Spongebob Squarepants makes me laugh. I'm sorry.
98) Traveling with my family is one of my most favorite things to do.
99) New York Super Fudge Chunk is one of the greatest discoveries of man.
100) This was fun, but I'm out of stuff to say.

Garlic! (The Great Scape)

Alright, it's time to humor me (as if that isn't always the case...) I picked the scapes off one of my varieties of garlic today, and the other two will be ready in the next couple of days. In honor of this momentous event, I am writing my "how I grow garlic" blog. A couple of people in the RVB community have expressed some interest in this topic, so for those of you who care, here it is. For those of you who don't, I'll try to do something less, um, agricultural before too long. I hope to never do this again, unless I come up with some wild variation on my technique, or I start to grow some exotic varieties of garlic*.

*Is there really an "exotic" variety of garlic? Garlic is ubiquitous. To me it is like calling something like water or air exotic. It is far too important and central to life on earth to be cheapened by labels like "exotic". I apologize to garlic for even suggesting there might be something exotic about it.

For now, I will stick to the basics: I grow hardneck varieties called Georgian Crystal, Chesnok, and something that was once probably Romanian Red or something like it, but I lost track of the name and now I call it "Dave's Own Red". You're allowed to do this with garlic once you are reusing your own seed garlic, and you've done it for at least three years in succession in the same soil. I just made that rule up. Why, you may ask, do I grow hardneck? Because it is not finicky about soil, it grows in most conditions--hot, cold, dry, wet--and despite some reports to the contrary, it keeps pretty well. I've put up our garlic in July, and if stored in cool dark places, have run out in April before it sprouted or got soft. If you're considering growing your own garlic (note: DO IT!) don't be fooled by the hype of softneck. Most softneck varieties come from warmer climes than our own, while the hardnecks tend to originate in Russia and other unforgiving places.*

*Like Washington.

Anyway, hardneck is cool because it roasts really well, but it can't be braided like softnecks can. That's okay because garlic braids are kind of prissy.

Growing Garlic

Step 1:
After buying your seed garlic from a reputable company (like this, this, or this) WAIT UNTIL LATE OCTOBER OR EARLY NOVEMBER TO BEGIN THE PLANTING PROCESS!!! Then peel the papery outer skin off the bulbs. If you've bought more than one variety, you might want to make row markers so you can know which variety is which (unless you just want to name them for yourself later on, which I'll admit is very satisfying). Avoid messing with the harder, inner skin, which will protect the seed bulb through the long winter and into spring. If it is damaged, your bulbs will be more susceptible to rot.

Step 2:
Prepare your soil. I like to have beds about three feet wide, and about 25 feet long. I usually till my soil by hand, with an EZ Digger (aka Korean Hand Plow) duct taped to the end of a rake handle. I love the utility of this tool, and if you don't have one you should order it now...I'll wait... Seriously, it will become your favorite tool.

Often I will sow garlic in soil that has had some sort of cover crop growing on it, such as oats or buckwheat. That keeps the nitrogen in the soil, and since garlic is planted long after the first frost, you can usually just till the organic matter into the soil and then plant. Every couple of years I will add some compost and soil amendments (SulPoMag, bloodmeal, greensand, Menafee humates, etc.) but the key, according to a number of garlic famers I've spoken to, is to keep sowing it in the same soil year after year. Do not rotate garlic crops.

Step 3:
When have my three foot rows, I like to create three shallow furrows about 10" apart, the full length of each row. Then I just drop in the individual cloves every six inches or so.

From there, it's a simple matter of covering the bulbs with about two inches of soil, and tamping down the soil, and covering the rows with mulch. DO NOT SKIMP ON THIS STEP! The garlic cloves will begin to put out roots in the time between planting and solid frost. This will help it stabilize itself for spring, but the mulch will cut down on the amount of frost heaving the bulbs will go through.

Step 4:
Fuhgeddaboutit! This is my favorite step. It is what makes garlic such a gratifying crop to grow: your work is really mostly done, save for a little weeding in the spring. In the past, I raked the mulch off the beds as soon as the soil opened up in the spring. This year I found if I left it on, the garlic came up through the mulch, and the weeds didn't emerge nearly as badly as in the past.

Step 5:
Harvest. For me this has been happening in mid-to-late July, which seems to be earlier than some in the area. I have no idea why this is, and I'm not too worried. I just follow these two simple guidelines:
1) break off the scapes when they are big enough to snap off;
2) pull the garlic gently* from the ground when about 70% of the leaves have turned yellow.**


Breaking off the scapes allows the garlic to put its energy into storing energy in its bulbs, which makes for the bulbs being as big as they can be. The jury is still out as to whether this makes an appreciable difference in yield, but there is another good reason to harvest the scapes: they are yummy. I've had pickled garlic scapes that are to die for, and am still looking for a good recipe to make our own. If you allow the scapes to continue growing, eventually they will develop into a flower-like bundle of tiny garlic bulbs (bulbils) on the end of stalk. These can be planted, and will form one solitary bulb the following year, and then those bulbs can be planted and will yield full sized heads. It's a pretty cool process, and all along the way the scapes, bulbils and bulbs are edible. I would suggest against eating the foliage though. Pretty chewy.

*Pulling gently is advisable because it's no fun digging through the soil trying to find the broken-off head of garlic.

**If the leaves get too dry, the garlic won't keep well, because there won't be enough skin to protect it. If not enough of the leaves are yellow, the skin will be too thick, and the garlic--you guessed it--won't store well.

Step 6:
Storage. Hang up the freshly harvested garlic on a clothesline somewhere. After about two weeks, it will dry out, and the leaves will become dry and rustly. At this point you can brush the dirt off the bulbs, snip off the roots, and cut off the leaves and stalk about two inches above the bulb. Being hardneck, you will need a fairly sturdy set of clippers or scissors to do this.

Then, store it in a cool, dark place. A pantry will do just fine. And then, enjoy the fruits of your labor for the next eight months, when you will see the next year's crop just beginning to peek through the mulch.

Hey Lucky You, Lucky Me

A few entries back I talked about theme songs, and which songs seem to fit our lives. Given the events of the last three days, I'm submitting "Lucky Me" by Great Big Sea as Rachel's and my joint theme song:

He was born a sailors son
Nothing came easy or free
He suffered the squalls all the rises and falls
And everything else in between
But he says storms always fade after they've had their way
They're never as bad as they seem

As long as the rivers still run to the seas
Hey Lucky You Lucky Me

Who'd ever thought for a moment
She'd have to grow up so fast
School beauty queen with a child at sixteen
Swore that her fortunes had passed
But blessings can hide in the strangest disguise
I know that she would agree

As long as the rivers still run to the seas
Hey Lucky You Lucky Me

Hey look at me in the spotlight
Ripped jeans and rock and roll hair
Feeling so cool but I'd be such a Fool
Singing to no one out there
So Hey take a bow every band needs a crowd
And I've got a song we can sing

As long as the rivers still run to the seas
Hey Lucky You Lucky Me

I'll back up a little for those who aren't up to date. Rach had her graduation ceremony for three of her students on Friday, and was in disbelief at the outpouring of support and thanks given to her by students, families, and her administrators. I was not that surprised, for what she does is far beyond what most of us recognize: she takes kids who dislike the traditional school setting intensely for whatever reason, and gives them a place where they can learn comfortably. It takes lots of tough love, but amidst the "tough" part of that, her students really come to recognize the "love" part. It is an amazing process, and I admire her greatly for what she does.

On Friday I was unable to attend that particular ceremony, because I was participating in the Trek Across Maine. I'd hemmed and hawed for months as to whether I wanted to pull into the Middle School on our way through Dixfield. The positives would be that I could model for the kids about volunteering and doing things for a good cause, and I'd get to see my kids on the last day of school. The drawbacks would be disruption of the kids on the last day of school, and everyone seeing me in my tight bicycling jersey. By Friday morning I had decided that I would zip through the Middle School on my way to Weld, just to check in on my home room, who by that time should have been playing kickball in a 7th grade double elimination tournament.

At around 10AM the Cyclin' Cougars of SAD #21 pulled out of the rest stop in Rumford, and headed toward Dixfield. A phone call was placed to the central office, and as we wheeled up Weld Street about 20 minutes later, we were greeted by a small crowd outside Dirigo High School. It was nice to stop for ten minutes or so to chat, as other Trekkers whizzed by wondering why our team was pulled over, talking to people on the sidewalk.

The small group I was riding with then pulled out and headed north on 142, with a short side trip into Dirigo Middle School planned. They would be surprised to see me!
Well, the surprise was on me. At the end of the access road to the school, I was greeted by this sight (photo credits to SJ):




The seventh grade team was assembled by the road, cheering on other bicyclists as they went by, until our small group pulled into view. They then started cheering for ME exclusively, and after I pulled to the other side of the road to visit with them, completely shocked and at a loss for words, they gathered around asking questions about the trip, about my bike, about the other bikers, and anything involved in the Trek. It was a strange and humbling feeling, being a bit of a celebrity there on my own turf. I really didn't answer their questions very eloquently, but I hope everyone involved realized how touched I was by their kindness.

I am told this was pulled together by the teachers on my team, with help from the students. Whoever was responsible, it was an amazing moment in my teaching career as they chanted my name as I pulled away. The next twelve miles to Weld flew by, as I alternated between shaking my head and tearing up every time I thought about what they had done. Regardless of what our kids learn in their subject areas, it is clear that both Rachel's and my kids have somewhere learned the more important lessons: it is the connections we make with other people in life that matter most.

Lucky us.

Happy Feet!

With all the talk lately of comfortable sandals and taking pictures of our feet, I thought I'd join the fun and take a new angle: check out the sandal tan lines on my feet! That is a great sign of late spring turning into summer: without trying, I have worn my sandals enough in warm sunny weather, that I have telltale Keen lines on my feet. It's a good thing.

This is the End...My Only Friend...The End

My list of lasts has begun. As a teacher you can always come up with some fairly frivolous "lasts" of the year: last workshop day in August, last standardized test, last formal observation by the principal--you get the picture.

It is when the REAL lasts start rolling by that we realize "Holy crap, another year and I still haven't figured out how to get everything done that I planned." I hope my friends and colleagues who are retiring aren't plagued by this type of thought. I can't imagine my golden years being spent worrying that we didn't get around to doing the water lab back in 2003. Knowing my memory, that isn't anything for me to worry about.

Today marks my last Friday because next Friday I will be in a throng 1,500 strong, heading to Belfast on two skinny wheels on the Trek Across Maine. Every day from here on in will be a last of some sort.

I heard word of a long-time special ed. teacher in a neighboring district who recently had his last PET of a long career. I believe he's been teaching since at least the mid-1970's, if not the early '70's. He is still a young guy, in my eyes, still enjoys the kids he works with, and is only really happy to be leaving because of the proliferation of paperwork enjoyed by special ed teachers. When (or if) I ever retire, I hope it is on terms similar to his. If I don't still enjoy working with kids, I should be put out to pasture long before my statutory retirement age. It should be that way for all educators, and anyone else whose attitude and demeanor affects the future of others. This is why the Maine Legislature screwed up so royally under John McKernan when they raided the retirement fund and forced teachers to work longer before they could retire without penalty. They effectively forced ineffective teachers to stay in linger, teaching ineffectively for even longer than they would have and making an artificial barrier younger, eager teachers. Hand in hand with that comes the step increases for older, more experienced teachers, which cause districts to pay even more money for (presumably) less enthusiastic and effective teachers.

It would be foolish to suggest that all veteran teachers are ineffective or less enthusiastic: indeed, I've seen plenty who are good teachers even beyond the traditional retirement age, and I've seen plenty of teachers who don't improve much throughout their entire careers. But for the most part, it does seem fairly common for the passion to fade with passing years.

So with each passing "last" of the school year, I am reminded of summer. Summer leads into fall, where the lasts will all begin again and cycle throughout the year. It's hard to know what my reaction will be when all my "lasts" are really final. I hope by then that I will still love working with kids, and that I leave this profession on my own terms. That will be a good day.