25-plus years teaching high school drama has taught me something. THEY never AGE -- forever seventeen, they fly through my life too fast and have transmogrified into facebook friends the world over. Past students smile in photos with eyes I can never forget -- eyes that are passed on to children of their own. I love you all, but don't everyone visit the old lady at once. 'Cause that would be... awkward.
Showing posts with label Summer Vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Summer Vacation. Show all posts
Friday, August 26, 2011
Air Swimmers -- a nice distraction from homework
We had a giant helium balloon flying saucer like this years ago, but it randomly traveled the house. Tended to hang out over the bed and scared the crap out of me a couple of times.
We loved it.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Strive to learn something new every day...
Remember...
Time flies like the wind...
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Bee flying...like time... coneflower yellow like banana.. |
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Eye Contact
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My kind of Art :) |
Labels:
Eye Contact,
Great Canadian Art,
Summer Vacation
Friday, June 24, 2011
Last week of June
Ah, summer.
We all yearn for it about a month before the end. Coinciding with summatives, it makes everyone miserable and at odds. time to break out those ACTING chops and get to work! Smile and you'll feel better. Smile AT someone and you'll feel better about them.
That works till they tell you to #@#@# for some reason residing in the teen brain -- that has nothing to do with you, their teacher. Ah, I think with all my knowledge and Yoda wisdom, "sweetie, did you not have breakfast?" and since I never think before I speak it comes out my mouth at the same moment. The kid blinks, says actually, no. I send them off to get a milk or O.J. and, without their knowledge, make their day.
I started to write about how weird an empty school is and how surreal it seems to go about the empty (yet filled with costumes, black books and assorted crap) drama room doing whatever, whenever.
And I ended up reminiscing about kids who swear at me at 8:40 am because they're hungry.
Yup. Yer gonna learn a LOT about teaching from this blog
Espeshully speling.
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Seven foot high cone-flowers -- almost as tall as this years crop of grade nine boys |
That works till they tell you to #@#@# for some reason residing in the teen brain -- that has nothing to do with you, their teacher. Ah, I think with all my knowledge and Yoda wisdom, "sweetie, did you not have breakfast?" and since I never think before I speak it comes out my mouth at the same moment. The kid blinks, says actually, no. I send them off to get a milk or O.J. and, without their knowledge, make their day.
I started to write about how weird an empty school is and how surreal it seems to go about the empty (yet filled with costumes, black books and assorted crap) drama room doing whatever, whenever.
And I ended up reminiscing about kids who swear at me at 8:40 am because they're hungry.
Yup. Yer gonna learn a LOT about teaching from this blog
Espeshully speling.
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