We Almost Called Him Uncle

Tomorrow Scholar Lee "Scuba" Salley turns 3. Right now, he's curled up on Witt's stool, being a baby. I remember the first time we saw his litter--they were all so cute and dark brown. The tiny dogs just walked around each other and stepped in their pee and poo. They each had a different colored collar. I told Witt that first time that we saw them that we couldn't get one. We had just moved in, barely married a few weeks.

We drove past the house on Kansas Avenue each day for a few weeks, but then one day, the sign was gone. All of the sudden, we had to know where the puppies had gone, so we pulled into the driveway and I went to the door. The woman told us that her son had taken the last four dogs to the Wal-Mart to sell them there. We went, and saw the four dogs. The only two I remember are the two we picked up. I picked up the last girl with an orange collar, and Witt picked up a boy with a brown collar. We knew we were getting a boy--it's what Mama Dog had chosen (we did hand choice games, and she always chose the brother hand). Once Witt picked up that brown collared dog, I knew it was over for the orange collared dog. It was love at first sight for those two. The brown ten week old baby crawled all over Witt and licked him all the way home.

We struggled over a name for about a week. Since we had Mama, I thought it would be funny to call him Uncle. Mama and Uncle--brother and sister. The name just didn't set well with Witt, though, and when JenFlinn and Chad were visiting and Witt came up with it. "Scholar!"

Happy Birthday, Scoob!

The Cube

Last night we had our annual LAD meeting where we eat, do some business and hear a speaker. The first year I went, the speaker was a slam poet. He did some slam poetry and then we were encouraged to join the new slam poetry part of LAD. I don't know that anyone did. Last year we heard a woman talk about the beauty that is the graphic novel and how to use those in class. Both nights were dreadful--not becuase the information was bad, but because I am so tired by Thursday night when it happens. After school we rush to the meeting place ( Panera, Mr. Yen's, San Francisco Oven), and then wait for an hour to eat (my stomach grumbles and I think I'm going to pass out), get a lot of new and old people registered for LAD ( I usually staple and get a paper cut), eat some dinner (ususally leave hungry), and then listen to the speaker.

Last night's speaker started by doing activity she called "The Cube." You can do the cube as well. The first step is to draw a desert horizon with skyline and sand. Next draw a cube; what is it made of? Describe it. Then draw a ladder. What is it made of? Describe it. Now, draw a horse. Describe it. Finally, draw a storm.

The cube is you.
The ladder are your friends.
The horse is your significant other.
The storm are your problems.

Notice where they each are she told us. I couldn't stop laughing the whole time. And then I looked at my picture. I'm a big block of ice, melting in the hot desert. My friends are a big rope ladder all intertwined together, but I'm separate from them. Witt is close to them, but walking toward me with a thought bubble above his head that says "WTF? Water!" The storm is raging in his belly. That's right. In his belly.

What are the chances? I tell Witt about the Cube and ask "How in the world did this happen?" He looks at me sleepily and says, "You're smart."

I love him.

Why does that kid hate me?

Each year there seems to be one or two kids that just don't like me This year, though, there seems to be about a dozen. Perhaps it's becuase I've been gone for two of the four weeks we've been here. Maybe it's just an off year. Maybe that kid Kyle has a bug up his nose. Whatever it is, I'm a little sad about it. There seems to be at least one freshman in each section who rolls his eyes at me and grimaces when I talk.

In third hour that kid is Kyle. He's also in my homeroom which makes it that much harder to deal with. Twice a day? Really? He has a chip on his shoulder the size of Mt. Everest, and to prove it, he rolls his eyes. A lot. Today he was sleeping during homeroom and I asked him to wake up and stop drooling. He looked at me with daggers. Lots of little tiny daggers that peirced the teachery part of my heart.

I guess I should just get over it, but I can't stop thinking--why does that kid hate me? What did I do? And, I don't know that there is anything I can do about it. Probably not, really. There were teachers I just didn't like in school. Mrs. Gault--fifth grade. Mr. Askins--high school biology. My reason was that they were pure evil, but they didn't really do anything to make me think that. And so, maybe that's what Kyle will realize ins a few months or fifteen years. Will the teachery part of my heart feel better until then?

The BIG Review of Diary of a Wimpy Kid

I read this while Witt was in CCU fighting for every red blood cell he could get. There were a few drama ridden seconds when I thought I may be a widow, and I read this book intermittently during those seconds.

I laughed at loud at several parts in the book. Greg is a great kid and the way that he views the world reminds me of the way I viewed the world at that age--or maybe the way I wish I had viewed the world at that age. The funniest part to me is when Greg held the string over Manny's face and then Manny swallowed it. When his mom asked Manny to point to the thing most like the size of the string and Manny

grabs an orange from the fridge I laughed so hard I thought I would pee my pants.

Thank God for Cody Duvall, Jeff Kinney, and for Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

The BIG Review of: The Last Summer (of You and Me)

I finished reading Brashare's book in the Holiday Inn Express in Mississippi that we stayed at on our way to Georgia. I started it in the Pep Boys on Battlefield the day before our trip. Why do automotive shops say it will take about two hours when they mean four (more on that later)?

The plot: Alice and Riley, two sisters, and their best friend Paul spend summers together at the their respective beach houses for several years. Paul stops coming to the beach, although I'm not sure why, but at the start of the novel, Paul is on his way for the summer. Alice is waiting for Paul which seems to be a central theme of the book--Alice waiting for Paul, Alice waiting for Paul and Riley, Alice waiting to let Paul know how she feels--yet I digress.

Paul is working on his last paper before entering graduate school; Alice is contemplating law school, while Riley is content to swim and explore the ocean. The dynamic with the three of them, simply put is--Paul and Riley are best friends. Alice and Riley are close sisters. Paul and Alice have a complicated relationship built around a lot of teasing and flirting that winds up being TRUE LOVE (read, Alice is a virgin until Paul who had never fucked anyone he cared about until Alice this summer).

Everything is going along swimmingly, literally, until we find out that Riley has copped up with a bout of rheumatic fever that nearly killed her as a child, and apparently when it comes back, it's worse. In her case it takes on congestive heart failure. Riley's only chance, a heart transplant, is just over the horizon, and in the meantime Riley doesn't want Paul to know she is sick. Being consumed with nothing else, Alice has to shirk Paul from her due to all of his questions about Riley and herself. Torn between her loyalties for her sister, and her undying devotion to Paul, Alice chooses her sister.

In the end, Riley dies, but not before Alice allows her swim in a heated pool each day for a few hours. Paul has been told about the illness, realizes why Alice shut him out, and makes it up to her by being supportive during the time when Riley is gone. At first Alice is plagued with thoughts of guilt because Riley found out about the relationship between Alice and Paul, but Riley forgives her. This forgiveness is what lets Alice know that it is okay to be with Paul even if Riley is gone.

Subplots include Riley and Alice's father having an affair with Paul's mother; Paul's father being dead due to an OD, a culture of lifeguards, two small girls who live in Paul's' house after he sells it, Paul's grandparents who are rich blaming Paul's mother for her husband's untimely demise, Alice's mother being terse about most everything.

Overall--6 --plot was bit predictable, characterization not stellar

For the past three years on my birthday, I've been in Florida reading AP exams. Universally,

Who the hell knows what I was planning to say here? I started this post in June, and now it's October. Why do I start things and never finish? Why do I plan to go back when I know I won't? And why don't go back and finish things? Is there something in me that won't allow it? I know my personality type is more of a starter, but I seem to finish only under duress. I'm a teacher's nightmare, yet I'm a teacher?

I would hate having myself as a student.

Simply a List

This is what I want to write about:

My grandma's stay in St. John's for exactly four weeks, her death, her funeral.
I know that if I don't write about these things soon I will forget them and they will be gone.

I feel this striking sense of losing my extended family without her and my mom to hold me to them. I saw people this month that I'll probably never see or hear from again.

Is this what it's like when everyone gets older?

My friends having babies and being pregnant while I feel like a barren wasteland. Not becuase I can't get pregnant, but because we're not ready yet. And then I wonder if I will ever be ready for a baby. And then I think about not having my mom to show me how to be a mother in the first few hours and days of a newborn's life. Yes, that may come to me, but I wish I didn't have to rely on my instincts alone. I wish that I was able to look into my mother's face as she held my child for the first time.

Memories that my family and I shared around my grandmother's hospital bed as she took her last breaths.

Mary Carsten's love of the family tree, and how it literally drove her to work my grandma's funeral.

The last wishes paper that is lost.

The dating talk I had with Piper.