April 2nd 2012 -- I'm still 52 years old

This was a work day: I sat at my desk for more than half of my waking hours. If it wasn't for Mitt and Ann Romney calling, I might not have stood up and moved until Hubby got home! Dog and Hubby and I worked in the yard for about two hours, cleaning up the willow's weeping, the proof that Maximilian sunflowers are prolific, and discovering two plum babies worth saving, three asparagus, three quince in leaf, four currants, and leaves on the Manchurian apricot and the pear trees. Lovely day (partial day) in the sun, committing purposeful work that burns calories. Dinner was chops on the Christmas gift grill and another steam-in-the-bag (love those!). Now, back to work until my favorite t.v. shows come on.

This was a normal day. A workaholic's day. A regular (this semester) Monday. A day when I think outside of "me" and think about "me" as a purveyor of truths and questions to ponder. When the piles of ungraded papers get high enough to topple, I ask myself -- quick, before the students ask! -- what is the purpose? And then I grade some of those papers and realize what students MAY learn from the homework: to read the directions, to follow a rubric, to read critically and for meaning. It's not the points -- though you can't convince them of that! -- it's the action, the purpose, the implicit message of homework: do your best. I hope students discover their own personal best! W. Edwards Deming wrote and lectured about a person's perception of intrinsic quality, and William Glasser took the idea into the schools. How do you teach a student about his or her own personal best? How do you say, with the teacher's red pen, that this is good, and that is, like, lame-o? What sort of homework makes a student excited, engaged, and contemplative, about self, talents, goals, and a sense of one's own "best" work? This was a normal day: I asked the questions and found few answers. I am a plugger!!

I cannot reach my toes.

In the photo, Dad, brother, Grandmother (never "Grandma" and "G.G." to my children), me about age 9, Mom. I can't tell where we are.... I have great legs! A tomboy's legs. Nice shoes! And dig that jacket on Mom! Retro rules: fashions always come back. I may never again, however, wear a dress that short.