Everything old is new...

I love old things.  If it was around during the 1960’s or before I’ll probably adore it.  Even as a kid I was in love with anything my mind categorized as “old” or historical.  I read and reread my favorite historical fiction books from the library (the American Girls series and Calico Captive were some particular favorites).

When my family lived in Tifton, GA I was able to volunteer weekly at the living history museum.  The Agrirama was like my own personal version of Disney world!  I got to dress up in authentic clothing (right down to the bloomers), cook on wood stoves, sit on the porch and cross-stitch, churn butter and even have lessons in the schoolhouse.  It was positively heaven for a 10 year old me.

Now that I’ve moved on from my dress up days (although rather reluctantly) I’m still fascinated with things from the past.  This morning while making pancakes I was struck with how much my apartment represents this infatuation. 

Let’s start off with the fact that the building is itself a piece of history (or at least I’d like to think so).  I love everything about it from the old fridge and the cabinets where the milk used to be delivered

to the spice cabinet (complete with my old nutmeg grater). 

Even the little, slightly rusty, latches that close the cabinets make me smile.

Beyond the hardware of my apartment I’ve gone on to fill it with some of my favorite retro accessories. 

I’m pretty sure my coffee tastes better in the morning when it’s sipped from a cup with a saucer.

And my pancakes are always fluffier when mixed in my Fire King mixing bowls thanks to my mom

(who knows me well and has collected a whole set of Fire King azurite dishes from the 1950’s for me).

See...

And while I resisted putting on my pearls to make breakfast this morning a woman needs a touch of shine as she swishes and spins around the stove (what?  don’t you dance when you cook?!)

One of my favorite blasts from the past is my typewriter, lovingly restored by my brother last Christmas.  I love the heavy click, clack, ding sound it makes when I write in the evenings, with Ella singing in the background.

I remember being in middle and high school and lamenting regularly in my journal that I had certainly been born in the wrong decade, or possibly even the wrong century.  I’d like to think I’m not quite so naive now.  Remember the picture of my typewriter?  Um, well, I should probably show you the whole picture of my desk.

As much as I love the things from a time gone by I’m also pretty attached to the more recent developments in technology. 

Oh, but if anybody sees a record player around town let me know.  I need something to play Sinatra on while I dance in the kitchen…wearing pearls of course! 

The start of something great

There are a lot of things I like about working at a year-round school. It’s pretty darn nice to only have 9 weeks of teaching (at the most) before some sort of break!

But one of the things I love the most is that I get to have four “first days of school” every year. Four fresh starts, four chances to get things started on the right foot, four Sundays filled with the anticipation of getting back to what I love.

It also helps that I have three weeks before hand to work in a quiet classroom and get things cleaned up and put back in order. I mean look at this classroom! Doesn’t it look like a place where amazing learning is about to take place?

The bulletin boards are cleared, ready for new poems and stories to be displayed, math concepts to be explained and illustrated.

My whiteboard is so clean I can almost see my reflection in it.

And there’s nothing better then a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils!

Even the arrival of snow on the first day back could not dampen my spirits.

I love nothing better then a clean, organized classroom. Well… almost nothing. As hard as it is for me to deal with some days at 3:21 I also love a messy, slightly chaotic classroom that tells the world “Yes, learning happened here!” And learning is not always clean and organized.

Of pigeons and neighbors...

I like pigeons. I realize this is a rather bold statement but ever since I picked up Mo Willems incredible series documenting the life of one lone pigeon I have been drawn to the cooing wonders.

(If you have not read them I would suggest you start with Pigeon Wants a Puppy, the raw emotion written on those pages is fantastic. Although Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus is a classic that brings me near to tears with its bittersweet ending.)

When I moved into my apartment on the 4^th floor several months ago I was actually delighted by the colony of pigeons that was roosting on my windowsills. Their cooing and the occasional thump/shudder when they crashed into my windows become a familiar part of home.

Well, is seems as if my neighbors could not disagree with me more. Last Tuesday instead of the familiar sound of pigeons I was greeted with a new sound when I got home from work- that of frantic hammering and the clatter of a ladder. Curious as to what the commotion was I opened my window to investigate. This is the new addition I found installed on my neighbor’s windows.

I’m still a little nervous ever time I open my windows now. One poor planned landing by an unsuspecting pigeon would have disastrous results!

And expect the next installment of Mr. Willems series, Pigeon Wants a Crowbar, this summer!

Accomplishment

I’m covered in grease, my hands are sore, arms tired, and my fingers hurt like never before. But today I changed a flat tire on my bike… all by myself. Booya!!

this was about half way through, it got a little messier (and painful) as I went along

Yes, I did try to get a bolt off by turning it the wrong way. Yah, I almost threw the wheel across the room trying to get the tire off. And I might have come close to tears when I couldn't get that pesky little wire in the right place for the shifters. But I did it and yes, I'm rather proud of myself!

So now I can finally go on my ride! Except, after all that... I'm kind of tired. Maybe I'll ride tomorrow?

By your pupils you are taught

I’ve recently become reacquainted with the song “Getting to Know You” from the King and I. You know, the one that Anna sings with all her cute little Siamese students. Well here, just watch...

I love the line- “if you become a teacher, by your pupils you are taught.” Children are amazingly observant. They also love to share what they observe (be it good or bad!). Here is my favorite example that happened just last week.

Last week was a little crazy. Lots of meetings, data study and things that had to get turned in. By Thursday morning I was having a hard time getting my head in the game for literacy small groups and was running all over the room trying to get something finished and done. By the time I finally got to my small group table and started fumbling around for my supplies Diego was a little concerned.

He looked at me and asked in a very serious tone, “Miss. Gates are you nervous or just really busy or something?” How’s that for observant!

I stopped and laughed, “Well Diego,” I put on my best explanation voice. “I have a lot to get done before we go on break and not quite enough time.” He considered this and came back with a zinger of a reply. “Miss. Gates, you always say we have a lot to get done and we always get it done. And you don’t want to waste our small group time.”

Ok, so first he’s right; I do always say, “we have a lot to do today” (they really do listen!). And second, he’s turning my own words against me. I don’t take away recess time in my classroom, I make a trade. If you waste my teaching time then I trade for some of your recess time to catch up. And yes, I reteach whatever I was doing when the “trade” was made during recess (because I’m that nice of a teacher and want to make sure you learn it all!). Time is very valuable in our classroom.

Thanks for reminding me Diego. It will all get done sooner or later and I should use the time I have for what is most important (in that case a lesson on contractions). Lesson learned!

Oh, and I totally want a dress like that to teach in someday!