The Deification of Stacy

My friend Stacy is now officially a member of my personal pantheon of deities. She is now Stacius, Crunchy Goddess of Boxed Vegetables.

She sent me vegetables. A whole box of fresh vegetables. Or rather, she had them sent from the Lower 48, as her village is as woefully lacking in fresh produce as Nunapitchuk.

I was drooling at school just looking at the box, and have eaten more vegetables in the past two days than I have in the past month. And I have only begun to munch.

I've discovered one interesting thing so far... my dog really likes radish tops. Whodathunkit?

Dead Arm

I took a nap this afternoon.

Weekend naps are one of the great pleasures in life if you ask me. I love a good nap.

I woke up from this little siesta to a most distressing situation. My right arm, the arm with which I do pretty much everything, was dead. Not just asleep... totally without feeling, and all floppy. I had had it up over my head (our house has no doors, and our walls don't go all the way up to the ceiling, and Shaun was watching TV), and apparently cut off all contact between my arm and the rest of my body.

It was kinda cool, actually. It was totally limp and floppy. No feeling whatsoever.

Eventually, the feeling came back. Holy crap did that hurt.

Testing the fun out of Them

It's that time of year, boys and girls. L.E.P testing time! We have to test every L.E.P. (limited English Proficient) student at our school to determine whether their English proficiency is truly still limited. Great fun.

I'm currently testing first graders. I am their introduction to the fantastic world of bubble-filling, standardized test-taking, and "remain quietly in your seat if you finish early."

I kind of hate myself for that. First grade should be all about reading, adding, and Play Dough. Bubble filling takes the joy out of all three.*

I tested two exuberant, can't-keep-their-mouths-shut students this afternoon. Normally right on the brink of shouting out, when put in such a limiting situation, they step over the brink into the talking-out-of-turn oblivion beyond. My jaw sets itself in a grumpty frown, my eyebrows crinkle down over my eyes, and I give them the *LOOK*.

Of course, when faced with such unencumbered joy for hearing the sound of one's own voice, the *LOOK* is seldom enough. In an hour, I was forced to move one student to a corner desk all by himself, place a pencil in the hand of another student while pointing to her next unanswered question, and just generally pull out all my "mean teacher" tricks.

By the end of the hour, I was sick of the test, the students, and most of all myself. If I'm going to be the grumpy teacher, let me at least do it in the name of teaching them something.

Thank you and good night.**

*I'm not sure how bubble-filling takes the joy out of Play Dough, but I'm certain it must. It has unmeasurable first grade joy-stealing power that we can only begin to comprehend.
**It's not night yet, but it might be when you read this.

For CP

A certain person (who never updates HER blog because... oh, right, she doesn't have one) gave me a haughty "Ahem" while checking my blog, indicating that I was not nearly diligent enough in my updates.

And she may be right.

So here's an update. I'm in Kasigluk-Akiuk for basketball. The trail was very slushy riding over. Shaun got wet because he didn't wear snowpants. I ate two hotdogs for dinner, but I feel like that's OK since I never got a lunch today. I currently have bleacher butt, both from sitting on a bleacher, and from sitting on the floor after sitting on the bleacher.

Feeling in-touch with my life now? ;-)