Ee-i ee-i oh! NaNoWriMo--Oh!

                                                                                  

        I committed myself to trying out NaNoWriMo this year...I've heard differing accounts from people.  It will be interesting to see if I can keep up with the daily word count requirements, and who knows where my story will go?  (Or even where it will begin, since I did not have a novel idea for a novel until this evening, after poring over 1000 plot ideas from the internet.)

        Because it might get me into some daily writing habits, I'm embarking on this month-long journey.

          My blogging got mired up in muck for a couple of weeks...I could whine, but since there is no decent cheese around, what's the point?  It has been parent-teacher conferences (with a couple of doozies), and then two workshops to prepare for--one last week and one that just took place today.  Prepping for a sub is tough, because you can't just call in when you're sick or when you want to take a personal day--you have to write sub plans, and they have to be detailed...You have to include things like, "Carl will get a nosebleed and want to go to the nurse.  Do not let him.  Just tell him to stop digging in his nose."

         So, if you occasionally check in, I'm sorry I have not been too active lately.  Part of me loves blogging and would post several times a day if I had the time, and another part of me wonders if I am blogging instead of putting forth some serious effort on writing.

         Before I begin NaNoWriMo tonight, I want to toot my own horn and Louella Turner and Donna Volkenannt's, along with many other Saturday Writers like Becky Povich, Teddy Norris, Cindy Allen, and Lonnie Whitaker.  The new issue of Cuivre River Volume V is out, and I have a story in it...It's called "Swizzle Stick" and had an interesting beginning.  A writing friend of mine---Julie---gave me the phrase "swizzle stick" as a prompt.  I wrote a story, polished it up, and it's been sitting around, waiting for the right opportunity to shine.

        

      Now I'm off to begin my book...

Too Long...

        It's been a while since my last post---at least for me---but this week has been parent-teacher conference week.  That mean long days, late nights, so when I get home, I collapse.

         At the beginning of the week, I was despondent.  One of my student's parent was is quite upset with me.  They have not observed me teaching (not even for five minutes) they are disregarding their child's perceptions (the student knows I care about him) and they wanted their youngster out of my classroom.  Unfortunately, the other 3rd grade classroom is maxed out (capacity-wise) which means the parent---if they really are unhappy with their child's placement---will have to drive to another school every day.  (Tomorrow is the conference with this parent. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I can smooth feathers...)

         Being judged without having the chance to "prove" myself as a concerned, rigorous, and imaginative teacher really caused me to wonder what else was I qualified to do...If they don't change the guidelines, I have 6 more years until I can retire; if I'm going to make parents miserable, I need to make a career change.

           This is what I found I can do when I retire next year (after jotting down my skills):

• radar-gun tester (Hey, I do speed sometimes most of the time, so perhaps I could find employment with the police, where I race along the highway, and they see if their radar guns are calibrated correctly...)
• unrhythmic, anti-stripper (I have no dancing ability, but I could be paid to put clothes back on...)
• earplug tester (If the sounds of my snoring do not penetrate the earplugs, they are highly effective.)
• Nutella spokesperson  (It's heaven on a spoon.  Or, if you want to eat it in a more socially acceptable way, put some on a croissant.)

         However, tonight I met some parental jewels.  They are the type of parents teachers dream about. They were supportive, funny, involved, and had great attitudes about life and childrearing.  They made me want to not give up...

Thanks!

Obama: Yes, He Might...

         For those who love the hope that President Carter and President Obama both embody (present tense, not past tense), please check out Katie Gates' insightful and optimistic post.  This particular post is from September 29 and is absolutely brilliant.  (Jeeze Louise!  I wrote from my dog's perspective today, and other bloggers write such thought-provoking stuff.  Amazing!)

photo by Violentz



photo by KGO Radio





Foley: A Guest Blogger

             My mom is swamped this weekend.  She is working on finishing report cards, and today, she has a board meeting for Love a Golden. (Love a Golden is the dog rescue group that saved me.  Before I was rescued, I was running the fields, I had to find my own food, and I was scared to death of storms but I had nowhere to feel safe---I spent all my days and nights outside.)

             Since Mom is so busy, she asked me if I would write a post today.  (It's slow going, because my paws are so big, so sometimes they hit several keys at once, and I have to erase and begin again.)  My day is usually spent napping on the couch in between sessions of playing fetch, so I figured, I have the time...

This is a photo of me as I contemplate where I will take my next nap...
In the hall?  On the futon? By the door?  So many decisions...

                 I admit, I have an easy life.  I get fed two meals every day and even though I eat the same thing every day, I don't complain.  It's pretty tasty stuff!  During the sweltering summer months, I suck up the air conditioning right along with Annie, the senior citizen I live with, and my mom and dad. When the snow piles up, no worries.  I can go outside and play in the drifts if I choose, but otherwise, I curl up on the couch where it's cozy and warm.



This is Annie. (I figured I might as well include a picture of her,
since she was nice enough--two years ago---to agree and share her home with me.)
Her eyes are really cloudy.  Mom and Dad say that she has something that sounds like "cadillacs..."

                 There's only one bad thing about living here:  the squirrels are quite wily.  They scamper around the yard in the early morning, and when they hear the back door open, they race for the trees and the fence. As fast as I run, I can never catch one.  Before I was rescued, I had to catch squirrels and rabbits for my meals.  It's been a long time since I've had a snack with four legs...



                                       

This is a picture of Love a Golden's booth at a dog rescue event.  Humans bake dog treats and spend their free time selling things so there is money to rescue more dogs.  Look them up at http://www.loveagolden.com/. (That's our president. She doesn't get any money for all the work she does, just like all the other unpaid "workers." I give them a rating of "four paws out of four.")

               
             I only do one thing that makes my family look at me in mean ways.  I love to chew. Sofa pillows. Shoes. (Only my mom's shoes. My dad says his are too stinky, too smelly to even tempt a dog!) Any paper within my reach.  Bags of bread. (I not only eat the bread, but I tear and rip the plastic wrapper until bits of it are strewn all over the floor.)  Now the house looks a little different.  All the pillows are put away, the bedroom doors are closed while us two dogs are alone during the day, and Mom does a final "security check" before she leaves in the morning. Shoes? Put away, check. Bread on top of the microwave or way back up against the wall on the table? Check.  Doors closed so they "click" shut? Check.  Any mail or papers or magazines or books set up out of reach? Check.

               I know what you're going to say.  I've tried.  I've tried to blame Annie on the mischief I make. (Hey, before you look aghast, she's deaf, so she wouldn't be able to hear Mom and Dad admonish her and she's also forgetful, so her shame would pass in an instant...)  The two-leggers are not buying my scam. They know that nothing ever got chewed up before I came along, so I can never escape the well-deserved reputation of being the Chewinator.

This is one of my "pin up" photos.  The girl dogs love me in this tantalizing pose,
but I have no interest in them.  (The vet made sure of that when I got rescued.)
At my side is one of my two favorite things. This one is "red ball." My other
favorite thing is "purple ball." I used to also have "disgusto ball" but my dad threw it too hard,
and it went into the neighbor's yard and since it looks like a jungle back there, no more "disgusto ball..."

                I suppose this is a long enough post. I hope my mom is happy with it.  She had this idea when one of her blogging friends Lisa Ricard Claro had her two grand-cats write a post!  Yuck! Cats!  They make me even more crazy than squirrels!

A Laugh and a Prod

       If you want the opportunity to laugh (and these days, who doesn't need to laugh?) check out Katie.  If you want the chance to think, to reflect, to go back into your memory bank, check out Katie Gates' blog.  (Her October 11 post has a hilarious definition for what a mushroom is.)

photo by Sean Hawkey

Magpie Tales

Only half of the door open,

Allowing the sunshine to flood in

Blind now---

the light too bright

and the wounds too raw

I lower myself to the floor

and

r

e

t

r

e

a

t

into the darkness...

        Try your hand at a magpie tale.  It's quick and enjoyable...Just go to Magpie Tales, take a gander at the photo, and write a poem or vignette.