Chasing Tarzan: A Trip Back in Time

 

I recently read the memoir Chasing Tarzan. It made me recall many moments in my own youth. I wasn't bullied in the same way the author was, but I am still traumatized when it comes to playing softball. (The kids would all group behind the backstop and yell "Swing!" and I still managed to avoid contact with the ball every time. I learned that if I didn't do my homework, I had to stay in at recess, which meant I wouldn't get made fun of on the ball field.)

The author was a foreign exchange student through AFS, and spent a year in New Zealand. I had a French sister--thanks to AFS--for a year, and just like it changed Forster's life, it also changed Virginie's life and my life. I fell in love with France (just like my son and my daughter and granddaughter), and Virginie has flown back to the US several times. (We crammed a minivan with friends, a niece, a daughter and granddaughter and saw the Grand Canyon for the first time several years ago. It was better than grand.) 

Catherine Forster chronicles her journey with incredible detail. Part of the book are funny, and parts are poignant.

I'm putting my copy of Chasing Tarzan on my bookshelf in my classroom. Kids today deal with so much, and Catherine Forster's book might help light their way as they navigate their teen years.

(By the way, as an author, I love the cover. The title really stands out, and the vines add interest and makes the reader's eyes trail down to the title and the author's name.)

Book Summary

In the 1960s, a relentless school bully makes Catherine’s life a living hell. She retreats inward, relying on a rich fantasy life––swinging through the jungle wrapped in Tarzan’s protective arms––and fervent prayers to a God she does not trust. She fasts until she feels faint, she ties a rough rope around her waist as penance, hoping God will see her worthy of His help. 

As the second of eight children, Catherine is Mommy’s little helper, and like Mommy, Catherine is overwhelmed. The bullying and the adult responsibilities together foment her anger. She starts smacking her siblings, and becomes her younger sister’s nemesis. Spooked by who she is becoming, Catherine vows to escape for real, before she hurts someone—or herself.

Catherine finds salvation in a high school exchange program: new town, new school, new family, new persona. A passport celebrity. In New Zealand, nobody knows her history or her fears. Except for her Kiwi “mum,” who sees through Catherine’s façade and pulls her out from her inner safe-house. Exposed, her sense of self implodes. Catherine must finally rethink who she is.

Publisher: WiDo Publishing (July 2022)

ISBN-10: 1947966618

ISBN-13: 978-1947966611

ASIN: ‎B0B6GFLXWC

Print length: 278 pages

Purchase a copy of Chasing Tarzan on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. You can also add this to your

GoodReads reading list.

About the Author

Catherine Forster honed her powers of observation early on, and later applied them to artistic endeavors. Although it didn’t happen overnight, she discovered that seeing and hearing a bit more than the average person can be beneficial. As an artist, her work has exhibited in museums and galleries across the United States and abroad. Her experimental films have won accolades and awards in more than thirty international film festivals, from Sao Paulo to Berlin, Los Angeles to Rome, London to Romania. Through her work, she explores the dynamics of girlhood, notions of identity, and the role technology plays in our relationship with nature. In her capacity as an independent curator, she founded LiveBox, an eight-year project that introduced new media arts to communities at a time when few new what media arts was. For the past four years she has been a member of the curatorial team for the Experiments In Cinema Film Festival held annually in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She received a Masters of Fine Arts from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, a Masters of Business from the London Business School, and a fellowship in writing from the Vermont Studio Center. She is also included in the Brooklyn Art Museum’s Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art.

You can follow her on her website as well as on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.  

My Sordid Affair

This is a busy summer. I'm in the middle of teaching my graduate class--coteaching, actually. (My teaching partner is my better half, and makes the month-long course a joy.) Two friends and I are embarking on a big (huge for us) undertaking involving storytelling. And it's hot.

Last week it got to 101 degrees. In St. Louis, that goes hand in hand with a humidity level of 127%. That might be an exaggeration, but only a slight one. In this part of the country, folks get to take shower as soon as they walk out the door--the sweat immediately starts dripping down every crook and crevice on our midwestern bodies.

Summertime... and the livin' is easy. And sweaty. 

Despite the heat, I've decided to make the season even hotter. Taylor Sheridan and I are having a hot and heavy love affair.

                                                          image by 19dulce91 via Pixabay

Why Taylor Sheridan? Why have I fallen in love with this smooth writin' man? Check out my post on the Muffin... 

... and keep cool. This sweltering weather--around here--could stay with us into September.

 

A Long Time Gone

 It's been a long time since I last posted. Last week, I saw the Chicks (formerly the Dixie Chicks) in concert here in St. Louis. My post's title reminded me of one of their songs, Long Time Gone.

Right now I'm knee-deep into a challenging project: creating a channel of podcasts for women. I have two partners in crime crazy, and we thought the response would be slow... But just a couple of days ago we sent out an email, asking former Listen to Your Mother-St. Louis writers if they'd like to be involved...

And we already have more than 100 enthusiastic yeses. A. Maz. Ing.

I wrote about this big dream on WOW's The Muffin. If you'd like more information about it, I wrote a second post. I certainly hope that when it's up and running, you'll check us out... and subscribe.

What challenging thing have you faced recently? 

The Agony of Not-Terrible Defeat

 SOL #21 (should be #27) See below to see what the Slice of Life challenge is.

Last night I went to a work trivia night. I was the anchor of the table. In this case, I was the member that would be holding back the rest of the group. I suck at trivia.

We had predict what score we'd make, in case there was a tie for first  some miracle happened  unicorns pranced around our table, pigs started flying and God parted the Red Sea (again) and gave us the answers for each round.

I (with hopefulness) suggested 4.

Who was the lead singer of Pearl Jam? I knew the answer, but not last night. 

Who was the lead singer of Poison? I knew it was Bret something (I'd watched Celebrity Apprentice years ago when he was a contestant) but I couldn't come up with his last name last night.

Who wrote Of Mice and Men... Who wrote Catcher in the Rye... What

was the name of the movie about the two Olympic figure skaters (we only saw a photo of the two actors D.B. Sweeney and Moira Kelly)... I knew those answers. How exciting that I could help out occasionally.

Somehow, we ended up 6th or 7th, out of 25, which is not terribly shabby. Of course, the night was full of laughter, food, and teasing...

What a Difference a Day (or Two) Makes

 SOL #20 (should be #26)

Earlier this week: exhaustion. Pressure. Regret. (I was finishing my report cards a little past my principal's deadline, and had two nights were sleep was just an appetizer.)

Today: joy. Hope. Energy. (I plan on doing a better job of keeping up with my paperwork... but you know the saying about "man makes plans..." )

I can hear the gods laugh as I type this.

Death By Procrastination

SOL #19 (should be 22) 

She was a vibrant person, so full of life... except around report card time. Being buried under work that she should have kept up with, she breathed her last breath, and uttered her last words:                       

I'll try to do better next time.

And the gods answered, "We'll see. You say that every quarter."

Stories, Stories, Stories

 SOL #18 (should be #21) See below to find out what the Slice of Life Challenge is all about

Yesterday I was in a small theater all day. Yes, it was a gorgeous day, weather-wise, so I missed most of that. The black chairs, the black stage, the small spotlights--they were in stark contrast to the bright sunshine and the warm breeze that was happening right outside the double doors. However, I got to witness a different kind of beauty.

All day (and the day before, as well) writers were auditioning for the Listen to Your Mother show. We heard nostalgic pieces about mothers. We heard pieces of fierce motherhood--stories about mothers who had to be warriors for their children for a variety of reasons. We even heard a story about recovering from years of harsh treatment from a mother.

                                                                  image by Pixabay

The stories were healing. It was obvious that for the writer--writing the story, along with telling the story to an audience, was therapeutic. It either brought the mother back to life--if only for a moment--or it was a balm that helped alleviate a past pain.

If you're in the St. Louis area and you're free on May 7 (the day before Mother's Day), I suggest you save the date. The show will be at the Grandel Theater, and I think it will be wonderful.

No Hog Dog Today... No Snow Dog

SOL #17 (should be #20) See below to check out what the Slice of Life Challenge is all about

Two blocks from our house is a park. It's big enough to have a football field (along with another space where a second team can practice). There's some playground equipment, a large pavilion, and lots of great smells.

                           image by Pixabay--There was dew on the grass this morning... and it's the

                                                                 first day of spring!

At least that is what Radar is interested in. Some smells are so complex, so fascinating, he would stand for 10 or 15 minutes and sniff (if I allowed him to linger that long). I don't, because sometimes his smelling results in his finding something to eat. Could it be some discarded chicken bones he's crunching on? 

Accck! Gutteral. Loud. As much phlegm as I can muster, I try to verbally persuade him to stop crunching on whatever he's eating as I yank him back from the dead squirrel  half of a left-over stale sandwich daily delicacy.

This morning, it was early enough that Radar's friends were not in their back yard. Usually, as soon as they catch Radar's scent (from several blocks away) they're in their back yard (which butts up against the park). They're ready. Hog Dog (a yellowish dog built more like a hog than a dog) works up a froth as he runs back and forth along the fence line, barking. Snow Dog (an Alaskan Husky) usually lies in wait, and as soon as we get close to his fence, he streaks across his yard and barks.

Too early on a Sunday morning for either of Radar's friends. Bad news for him, good news for my arm (because I have to pull and pull and pull Radar into the middle of the football field and away from the yards... otherwise, he's leaping and twisting like a bucking bronco in a rodeo).

Ahh. Early morning walks...

The Little Things

 SOL #16 (should be #19) See below for info on the Slice of Life Challenge

The sound of rain outside... while you're warm and dry inside. Feeling tired... and being able to curl up on the couch and take a nap. Being hungry... and fixing some eggs and potatoes, topped with a drizzle of raspberry salsa.

                                                                   image by Pixabay

It's the little things that fill up my morning today...

Everything's Comin' Up Green

 SOL #15 (should be #18) See below to check out what the Slice of Life Challenge is

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. In St. Louis, we have a parade in the Dogtown section of the city. The area is a sea of green (hats, beards, hair, shirts, beads and make-up) and a river of yellow (there is way too much urinating in alleys and side streets).

Apparently beer and whiskey are great breakfast drinks, because when you get there early (early enough to be able to navigate the sidewalks before they get packed with people) the drinking has already begun. 

                                                                  image by Pixabay

Things were different the last couple of years--with Covid--but the parade returned yesterday... the first time since 2019.

Things change. Sometimes the changes are for the better, and sometimes they're for the worse.

Yesterday I celebrated St. Patrick's Day with a shot of Bailey's... and plans to take a trip with a friend sometime in June. We're thinking Tennessee... or Wisconsin... or France... or Maine. Maine's too far, really. I found a place in Tennessee where you can hike with a llama (each hiker has a llama that carries your stuff). Part of the fun is finding out what your llama likes (and dislikes, I imagine). We'll see.

I hope you're seeing good changes around you...

 

I Like 'em Naked and Blonde (Big Feet--a Bonus)

SOL #14 (should be #17) See below if you want to know more about the Slice of Life challenge 

Ode to My Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love

Oh, your fast, hot breath

Makes me eager and excited

About stepping out

(towards the park).

Your liquid-brown eyes

Let me know I’m desired… wanted… needed.

Your tongue licks my skin with such care

And thoroughness

And so much drool,

I drip after each of our love sessions.

Oh handsome boy,

You’ll always be my best boy…

(until, sadly, you’re gone…

And then I’ll adopt another dog…

But they’ll never take your place)

                                                        This is Radar--my best boy

The Deep End

SOL #13 (should be #15) See below to find out what the Slice of Life challenge is

One of my favorite shows was on tonight. It's winding down--only 6 or 7 more episodes until the series is over--and there was a line that resonated with me.

The character was drunk and sitting in the bottom of an empty community swimming pool with his siblings. From his perspective, he was the screw-up, his brother had it all together, and his sister would have it together if only she stopped putting obstacles in front of herself.

I don't belong in the deep end. I belong in the shallow end.

It made me think of what was the deep end--for me, for other people. It made me think of how many of us are just treading water as we desperately attempt to keep at least our nose above water.

                                                                image by Pixabay

The Power of Bread... and Breaking Bread Together

SOL #12 (it should be #14) See below if you're curious what the Slice of Life challenge is

Last night I had a dinner meeting. It was only supposed to be a meeting, but the woman who was hosting the meeting generously (and deliciously) made dinner for us.

On the table was a basket of two loaves of bread--a marble rye and a rustic, crusty loaf of white. Just the smell reminded me of France--where the best bread lives. As we ate and talked and worked, it reminded me of how important it is to break bread together.

(It also reminded me of my love of bread. If I could have just one food for the rest of my life, it would probably be bread. Unfortunately, bread loves me way too much. Bread's the kind of friend that never leaves... it never leaves your hips. Your gut. Your butt.)

           image by Pixabay--This looks like my French sister's rustic kitchen table with bread--always--as the centerpiece                                

Sharing food with people is an act of love. You get to know people as you sit together and eat a meal together. If you don't feel comfortable enough to sit next to someone during a meal... well, something is wrong.

How about you? What are some of the dishes you most enjoy sharing with others? 

Being Provided For

SOL #11 (should be #13) See below if you're curious about what the Slice of Life challenge is.

There is something delightful when you have a day or two (or three... or four... or more) where everything is arranged for you. Food? Check. Someone is there--wherever you are--to plan and prepare the meals and clean up after you eat. A place to sleep? Check. There is a bed with clean sheets, along with clean towels--just waiting for you. (This weekend the bed was especially waiting for me to sink down into it for a long nap on Saturday. *)

A table to write at? Check. A beautiful view, if I choose to daydream occasionally too often for a moment a while instead of working? Check.

A cocoon surrounding you of creative, inspiring people who are generous with their time and talent? Check. Check. And check.

Sometimes all we need is time away. Time to recharge our battery. A change of scenery.

And if that change of scenery makes is easier for us to write, paint, read... Well, all the better. 

* Naps are wasted on the young. We should hook them up to a treadmill to power things while we--the adults--take naps.

Levity

SOL # 10 (should be #12) See below to find out what the Slice of Life challenge is

Once a week at my school, we play pickleball after the kids leave. (We are not idiots. We know that if we played when the kids could watch us, it would go viral... and it would be very embarrassing.)

I am extremely competitive when it comes to some sports. (Pool. Kickball--when I can butt into a kids' game. And apparently pickleball.) Unfortunately, I don't have any skills to back up that competitive spirit. Fortunately, I only groan and yell over my own mistakes. Everybody else (when they miss a shot)? Great try... That was a tough one... That almost went in.

                                                 image by Curious Fun, via Pixabay

I wanted to tell the group my great softball story, but everyone had to leave as soon as we finished playing, so I'll tell you:

It happened 11 or 12 years ago. My daughter was invited to fill in at a softball game. (She is extremely athletic. Who knows where she got it from.) I tagged along to watch my then four-year-old granddaughter. I figured while Virginia played (slow pitch--something she wasn't used to), I could sit and watch Riley at the playground.

Virginia's team was short players, and was on the verge of forfeiting. They convinced me to catch. It'll be easy. You just let the ball bounce, you pick up the ball and toss it to the pitcher... The pitcher will cover home plate if there's somebody coming home. How hard could that be? (There were other grandmothers sitting in lawn chairs, and they promised they'd keep an eye on Riley.)

Okay. I can help out and do that.

An awful twist of fate: when I walked off the field after catching an inning, thinking I'd return to catch in a bit, I found out that if I caught, I also had to bat. 

Uh oh.

I came up to bat three times. The first time, I swung around like a windmill. Three times. I struck out. The second time, I chopped at the ball like I was cutting firewood. Again, I struck out. The third time, I was determined to make contact with the ball. I ran forward (I didn't even swing) and the ump yelled, "You're out!"

"What do you mean, I'm out? I didn't even swing!" (I was hot... and I don't mean Beyonce hot and I don't mean temperature-wise hot.)

Apparently there's something called a batter's box. And I had ran too far forward and out of the box... which is an automatic out.

That evening Riley proclaimed, "Grammy, you were phenomenal." (Perhaps that was partially fueled by the knowledge that Grammy was treating them to Ted Drewes?) Today we laugh and laugh... because it was hilarious.

Levity. It's a healing balm...

Forgiving Yourself

SOL #9 (should be #11) See below for what the Slice of Life challenge is

Yesterday evening, I had to forgive a frozen food company for making crab rangoons with something bready instead of with wonton wrappers. What's with that? I mean, seriously.

As is sometimes my life, I drifted into sleep too early, woke up, began this post (at 11 PM) fell back asleep, and woke up at 2 AM.

Oops. This is the 2nd time I have not posted, in a post-every-day-this-month challenge.

                                                       image by Insecurity, via Pixabay

Perhaps it's come with age, or perhaps it's due to a well entrenched I-don't-give-a-flying-fig attitude... but I forgive myself a lot. I understand that I do the best I can do    most of the time I do my best    most of the time I do my best when I don't have The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel or the new season of Ozark singing to me like sirens.

So I missed a day of posting? So I am probably not going to be able to bake chocolate chip cookies for the retreat this weekend? (I'm just prepping some of you: it might be store-bought hummus and sweet potato crackers instead of home-baked cookies.) So I'm really really really behind on a writing project?

Oops. Oops. And oops. (There is a power in three.)

Forgive yourself.  Forgive yourself thoroughly and often. You don't have to be pouchy-bellied and silver-haired to come to this realization. Embrace it now. YOLO (I admit, I had to look this up this week)  and life is too short.

 

It's a Dog's Life

SOL #8 (should be #9) See below to find out what the Slice of Life Challenge is.

I jacked up my knee a couple of weeks ago. Finally, I don't have to gingerly walk down the steps, two week on each step. Finally, I could take Radar for a walk in the park instead of into the backyard for a game of fetch.

It's so nice to get to smell new, different smells. The smells in our backyard? Too familiar. The smells in the park? New and exciting.

                                                                      image by Pixabay

Saliva pooled along his gums, he was so excited. 

Dogs. They have such lessons to teach us. Lessons like:

• Savor the moment. The next minute might not be as fun as right now is. The evening might be unpleasant or boring... but right now, there's joy.

• Keep your head swiveling. All dogs constantly turn their heads in a million directions every minute, so they don't miss anything. My dog is ADD, just like every male in my immediate family, and when he's on a walk he's on high alert for other dogs, the really big dogs by the park (AKA horses), the chickens by the park, and any people (especially children) who are there for the sole purpose of admiring him. As crazy as it drives me, it is a good idea to change your perspective regularly, so you don't miss something cool.

• Ask for what you want. Nobody's petting you? Bark. Nobody's paying attention to you? Tap a paw with nails that need to be trimmed twice. Over and over, until a hand reaches out and strokes you. Ask... the worst that can happen is you'll get a no.

And again, it's almost midnight. If I don't finish this now, it'll get posted with tomorrow's date... and I'll be behind again.

Short Legs Upright For Too Long

       SOL #7 (It should be #8)  See below for what the Slice of Life challenge is all about.

       It's been a long day. I've been up for so long, I've got the Jimmy Legs, just like Kramer's girlfriend.

     

       When you're old, you look forward to the simple things. Sleep. A book you can read until you fall asleep. A bowl of potato soup. Finally starting the new season of Ozark. Napping on Saturday afternoon. Wrapping up in a quilt and snuggling on the couch. (Can you see a theme in this post?)

        My quilt and my pillow and I have a date right now...

(By the way, I Googled "photos of a bed" and they each had a lingerie-clad woman sprawled across it. None of them looked like me, with flannel PJ bottoms and a stained t-shirt and slouchy socks.)

Oh crap. It's 11:56 PM. I promised Tracy...

Only One Hour

This evening I spent only one hour with a complete stranger. Yet when she left, I felt reenergized... replenished.

The first Monday and the second Tuesday of every month, I'm at a table at St. Louis Bread Co. Most times, it's just me, which is fine. I get some writing done. I get some papers graded. I play Wordscapes on my phone. I answer emails.

                                                               image by Pixabay

However, this time, I was pleasantly surprised. A woman came up to me and said, "Your name wouldn't by chance be Sioux?" Wonder of wonders, she was there to get some feedback on her picture book manuscript.

Asking too many questions (as is usual for me), I learned she had the idea for this book 15 years ago. This would be her first book baby. As I read her manuscript, I was charmed. The rhyme was natural and didn't stick out in a stilted fashion. (I hate when people can rhyme so seamlessly. ;) There was a flair to the plot. A sassyness to the characters that was delightful.

Spending time with other writers gives me energy... reignites my passion... makes my eyes dance and my hands wave and gesticulate.

When I spend time with other writers--even for only an hour--I'm spending time with my people...

Look around... The leaves are brown

SOL # 5 (should be #6)  See below for what the Slice of Life challenge is. 

I was playing fetch with Radar (my 84-pound bundle of fur), and saw (again) that I need to do some serious raking. The leaves are brown, but it's not a hazy shade of winter. I noticed some green sprouts shooting above the leaves (I think they are those wild onions) which makes me think of spring and warmer weather and no more snow days (since my school has used them all up, I'm no longer frothing at the mouth for them).

Spring.

Then I was watching CBC Sunday Morning News and a commercial came on for the Chicks' (formerly the Dixie Chicks) concert tour... and they're coming to St. Louis. 

Impulsively, I ordered a couple of the cheap (lawn) tickets.

They've been a favorite of mine for many years. When George W. Bush was president, Natalie Maines (the group's lead singer) criticized him during a concert... and a huge landslide happened. The group received death threats, radio stations refused to play their songs, their music plummeted on the hit list, but their fans never faded away. To address the mess, the group (along with Dan Wilson) wrote the song Not Ready to Make Nice.

If you're interested in how they handle domestic abuse (in a humorous way) check out this music video.

Impulses. Usually I don't succumb, but I've never seen them in concert, and for me, going will be a political statement...

No Yarn About Yarn

SOL # 4 (should be # 5) See below what the Slice of Life Challenge is all about.

Needles sliding into each other. Looping the yarn. Pulling back the needle to dig in and catch the loop. Tightening or keeping things deliberately loose, depending on how much air you want to knit into the piece. Looping the yarn. Pulling back the needle to dig in and catch the loop. Every session, the same small movements, hundreds and hundreds of time.

For me, knitting is like liquor. It relaxes me. It's my serenity now! strategy. (That's for you Seinfeld fans... and you know who you are.) It's one of the ways I calm my spirit.

image by Pixabay

Madame  Defarge I ain't. In fact, I'm not chronicling anything as I knit, I'm unchronicling it. (Yeah, I know that's not a word but that's a writer's prerogative. We can make up words as long as the meaning of them are clear to the reader.)  I'm unraveling my story, my day, my stress, my anxiety. 

What do you do to destress your life? Nosey Sioux wants to know.

Teen Entertainment and Adult Entertainment

SOL # 3 (should be #4) See below about the Slice of Life challenge. 

I am not talking about what entertains teens--I'm talking about how teens can entertain us. I'm a middle school teacher, and here are few of the things that made me laugh today:

• I finish Fridays with a music video, and the students vote. Was the video fab or was it a flop? (I got this idea from Tracy Brosch.) I made the mistake of asking the class for any suggestions. And one of my boys (who is quite proud of the barely-there moustache he's cultivating) suggested Pitbull's Fireball. I know Pitbull. I even like some of his music, so I checked out the video during my plan period. Thank goodness. The first 10 seconds alone would get me fired. I chuckled to myself, thinking that he thought I might play it for the class. Ha!

• The I'm-just-sitting-next-to-way-too-close-to-him-because-we're-helping-each-other-with-our-math-work maneuver. Ha ha! I remember having teen crushes. She didn't fool me one smidgen.

And the adult entertainment I had in mind? The kind of adult fun I enjoyed today was a short video on what Zoom teaching was like. I chuckled, because I did some of the same gesturing as this teacher did, and invariably got sucked into conversations about pets/bedroom decor/what they were eating while I taught, and so on.

 

Next week, our school might be taking off the masks... until we need to put them back on. It's often impossible to tell which student is talking/making noises/singing (and I'm most definitely not a music teacher) when they're wearing a mask.

I imagine the kids will be thrilled to be able to take off their masks... but I smile as I wonder if they know that baring their faces will have a downside...  

                                                                                                                                                                                         

It's the Small Things

SOL #2 (should be 3--see below to read a bit about the Slice of Life challenge) 

Here are some small things I delighted in yesterday:

• the softness of a well-loved quilt as I snuggled on the couch
• the velvet of the side of my dog's nose
• laughter among friends--women friends--who get the same things I get
• dancing to Uptown Funk in my car seat as I drove

I make a conscious effort to lighten my foot when it comes to the gas pedal when that song comes on. I once got a speeding ticket for going 78 on the highway when Bruno and his friends were singing. The officer was a great guy--he wrote it for only 70--but wondered why I was going so fast. I didn't have the courage to say, "It was a reeeally good song,"

If you want to smile or snap your fingers or tap your toes, check out Uptown Funk's  music video... and keep a close eye on Bruno Mars' footwork and what he does with his hands. He's mesmerizing...

The UN

 My students are working on their Civitas project. Civitas is a St. Louis gem--a model UN program. The students who participate choose a country, research its problems, draft a UN resolution to solve one of those problems which involves data, a plan and a budget.

Yesterday (the first day I should have posted :( my classes waded through websites and asked lots of questions. Since Ukraine is on everyone's mind, there were were several resolutions from countries intending to sponsor Ukraine.

If only all world leaders would have the hope and the peace in their hearts that our students have...

                                     a photo from one of the Civitas General Assemblies in 2019--

                                                              not one of my classes

Dream Squasher? Or Dream Nurturer?

 There are some who help keep people's dreams alive. They fan the tiny flames. They dig around the embers, the coals, trying to get a fire reignited. They bring in kindling. 

There are other people who squash people's dreams. They criticize. They ridicule. They refuse to listen to some out-of-the-box thinking from a writing colleague.

I'm lucky. I belong to a great writing group. When I do encounter people who are "clueless" about my writing (and everyone else "gets it") I know that probably that one person is the one who's in the wrong... it's not my writing that needs work.

Recently I wrote about my students in a post for WOW. While we were discussing the project they were working on, I brought up Mae Jemison--the first African American woman to go up into space, and how a kindergarten teacher tried to squash her dreams.

                                                                     image by Pixabay

If you're curious about what the teacher said, check out the post... and think about how you nurture other people's dreams, along with your own.

Jack... Or Mark?

 

I admit, this version of Jack Daniels does not look anything like Mark Twain. However, I've got a styrofoam version of Jack that is the spitting image of Twain. He's about 3 feet tall... and he's spectacular.

I got the statue via a white elephant gift exchange. Initially, I wondered what I was going to do with it. First, it's so white and plain. It was the gift I wanted as soon as I saw it. Size does matter, and this one was the largest one, it was wrapped in several white trash bags and it was intriguing.

You want it... you got it, they say. Now I have it, and since I live in a small house, I needed to think of where to put Jack Daniels Mark Twain. Immediately, I knew how I was going to jazz him up. Zentangling him (if you don't know what Zentangle is, google it--it's a methodical way of doodling), and transforming him into Mark Twain was also an instant solution. After all, I have no connection or fondness for Jack Daniels. But Mark Twain? That's a different story.

Someone suggested I put it in my classroom... and what a brilliant idea that was. So, after he emerges from his cocoon, Mark will get a prominent place in my classroom.

Am I crazy? Does my Jack Daniels really look like Mark Twain? You be the judge. Check out my post on the Muffin. Some bonus tidbits: you'll see what was my favorite gift, and you'll learn the name of the artist you should never support financially (because supporting him is actually supporting moneygrubbing and soul-stealing people and not the artist).