How’s your house hunt going?
My house hunt has been put on hold temporarily. I am still, as they say, reading the market, but the job hunt has assumed top priority. Which side of the county I live in will depend on where I end up working. And don’t get me started on working. I know the time of year is working on me, but I could really not work and be happy. Spring break was ample proof that I could easily occupy myself and never get bored or feel shiftless. Of course, I’d have to live in a Maytag box and eat previously chewed gum and the occasional fast food joint discards, and this, my friends, is not what I have in mind when I say I’d rather not work. So yeah. I’m still job hunting.
If you were any animal other than a primate, which animal would you be and why?
A bird, I think. A wild bird–maybe a chickadee or a sparrow, something small. They get to fly whenever they want, most of them are beautiful, and for once I’d be able to sing without drawing frightened looks from innocent bystanders. Also, people feed birds, so there would always be an all-you-can-eat buffet around every corner.
What are you doing with yourself this summer?
Most likely more of this, minus eating after the cat.
Have you ever had one of those students who make you so glad that you became a teacher?
Several. There are a few every year. Usually not the goody-goody over-achievers, either, but the truly bright, real, funny, honest kids, the ones you can have actual conversations with. If you’d like to meet one of them, go here.
What was your favorite book when you were a tween?
In school media we identify tweens as kids ages 9-12, so I’m going to base my answer on that classification. With that in mind, I have to confess that I don’t remember much about my life between the ages of 9 and 12. I do know that I absolutely loved books like Charlotte’s Web, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, and Stuart Little. See a pattern? I was the kid who had long, conversations and scripted “scenes” with her stuffed animals. (I taped these scenes with my portable tape recorder; I added music with my little Casio keyboard; each animal had a different voice. My grandmother still has some of these tapes. Can you smell the blackmail possibilities?) I wanted Ralph the mouse and Stuart Little to be real. I wanted to be extra small so I could ride around in my mom’s pocket and hide in tiny spaces.
This would be a good time to confess something. I was an awful student until I hit middle school. Awful. I almost failed 4th grade. I never did homework. I didn’t pay attention. I never, ever applied myself. On every report card from elementary and early middle school, the story is the same: “hd is not working up to her potential. hd could do better. hd is not nearly as stupid as she wants us to think she is.” It wasn’t pretty. I started life as a reader–my grandfather read to me all the time, books by Nostradamus, the Bible, and lots of other giant volumes I can’t name–and I have been a reading addict since high school. But in between I spent most of my free time outside climbing things, digging, making stuff, playing with my dogs, and having long conversations with my imaginary talking animals. I still do those things, but now I read, too. Part Tomboy Girl, part Book Worm. I like it that way.
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