Where Are All the Notes?

Dear loyal blog reader,

Have you wondered what ever happened to me posting confiscated student notes? Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to start posting more soon. Last year I was teaching honors classes and the thing about honors students is they are smart (translate to sneaky). Either that or they aren't very interested in advancing their social agenda. Either way, I didn't find any discarded notes lying about and I rarely saw a kiddo writing a note. I usually at least warn them before taking their notes, a practice for which I apologize to you, dear blog reader. This school year, which starts in just a week (!), promises to be a better haul. I am only teaching 2 honors classes, the other three are just regular 8th grade science classes. Eighth grader's notes are usually better anyway, let's be honest. More drama and angst.

I will try to show at least one super boring science video during September and lurk in the back waiting for some good stuff to come rolling in. Videos are great for note collecting because the kids try to counter extreme disinterest with socializing.

Until then, consider rereading some of your favorites from the past.

Confiscated Notes

Dating and Fashion Advice

do u want 2 d8 me?

Dream

Last night I had a dream that I was drumming on a drum kit and I was confused because no matter how hard I pounded on the drum I couldn't hear it. Then the thought occurred to me that I must be in space. So I looked around me and I was in space. If only.

And this, because it's Friday. Enjoy.

Nanometers

I attend a Sunday School class each week that has a tradition of having everyone introduce themselves before the lesson starts. Usually the teacher will set the parameters of the introduction routine by asking everyone to state their name and something about themselves within a certain topic. As an adult when someone asks me to say my name and my favorite color I roll my eyes a little. Do adults have favorite colors? But I can tell you that little Karen loved yellow with all her heart so I whipped out my little internet device did some quick research to consult the following diagram:

Then announced to the class that my favorite color is the wavelength at 600 nanometers. It would have been more appropriate to state that my favorite color was within in a range of 570 to 589 nanometers because 600 is getting more into the orange light range but I didn't want to sound like a nerd.

Black Dot

Flowers? Whaaa???!

*Disclaimer: Adult content

Today I told my students that daffosils reproduce sexually. They were disturbed by this announcement.

*Disclaimer: Adult content is over.

What could I possibly have to say after this shocking announcement? How about one of my favorite poems? I don't remember when I first read this poem but I think it was in Mrs. Low's English class my Junior year of High School. She was an incredible teacher. So even if it wasn't her, she introduced my heart to poetry

This poem continues to be one of my favorite.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Growing up in Puyallup, Washington led to my gaining an early appreciation of daffodils. The daffodil parade, daffodil fields, my mom loved both of these things. You can click on that link to read a poem I wrote about her. I should add a disclaimer that I'm no William Wordsworth.