I haven't really been writing anything lately, except for short little things on my cell phone which are largely about sunsets. Perhaps I'll copy them over here. I haven't decided.
This past weekend though I was in upstate New York visiting my friend Lindsey and my godson (her son) Ian and his twin sister Adrienne, for their birthdays and, incidentally, for Easter. It was tiring and also really good to see them. Also though, it was cold. And when I stepped off the plane tonight into the warm, humid Virginia air, it was almost like a religious experience. And when Jack and I drove home on the interstate with the windows down, and talked the whole time. And when I walked with Miley through the moonless night, under the quietly, constantly rustling leaves of the trees. And when I smelled the wet dirt and the little creek and the hay strewn across someone's lawn. It is emphatically spring, and I love it. I do not ever want to move to the North.
ALRIGHT. Some of the things I wrote on my cell phone notepad:
4/22--This April morning the sun rises like a rocket, drawn up by invisible strings into the low hanging clouds, from the horizon to some unseen place behind the rainswept cloud bank in a matter of minutes. Last evening I watched the spring in the treetops, the sinking sun kissing and melting through the outstretched arms of warm wood, bathing the earth in green light.
4/24--We're flying through the ethereal world between cloud layers, in a perfect palette of muted white and graded blue. Slivers and spots of light from the setting sun spread softly and quietly across the Western horizon.
And tonight (and this I did not put into my phone), we flew near a thunderstorm on our way between LaGuardia and my hometown. Though I know I look like a small child and a person who has never flown before whenever I do this, I love to press my face up against the airplane window and watch the lightning in the clouds. The clouds themselves are rather stunning--sculpted shapes of the darkest possible gray filling the sky above the city, and enormous banks of it piling up in the distance--but in the darkness they have no definition. Each lightning strike looks like a tiny sunrise, and it highlights the hidden depths of the clouds for the smallest instant. It's gorgeous.
Showing posts with label colors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colors. Show all posts
Monday, April 25, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Magic.
I love the way this little dog's big black eyes shine at me out of the gloom of the darkened living room. She says that it's really past time for a walk. She is correct, but she'll be okay for a few more minutes.
I've been substitute tutoring this week at an elementary school across town, and it's been great. Really great. I've never tutored in math before at all, but these kids--two in fourth grade and one in fifth--were working on multiplication tables and elapsed time/algebraic expressions, respectively. I've discovered this week that work sheets are really not helpful, and can actually be a hindrance. I've discovered this week that encouragement and a smile can go a long, long way. I've also discovered that there are a lot of uses for Phase 10 dice and cards. One boy had worksheets left over from previous tutoring sessions, and he mainly worked on those. He made some progress, but not a huge amount. The other fourth grader came in knowing almost no multiplication at all--she had been described to me as having the most trouble with it--and spent most of each of our two sessions playing multiplication games with the dice and cards, and left today being able to give me quite a few answers to questions. She knows 6 x 6. She knows 8 x 8 and 9 x 9 and 6 x 5 and many others. She knows how to multiply tens now, and elevens, and she's starting to learn the logic of multiplication. The third girl, in fifth grade, never really had very much trouble that I could see with algebraic expressions, and she made progress in her understanding of elapsed time. She was the best worker in the group though, and as such probably received the least attention: and that right there is the biggest reason I prefer one-on-one tutoring, and one-on-one interactions in general. I absolutely loved working with these three children this week, but I would have loved even more the opportunity to work with each individually. There is an energy in small groups, though, that is hard to find elsewhere. I guess there are advantages and disadvantages to everything. It was a wonderful experience.
Pro tip from today: small children love balloons. I mean, they really love them. Do you remember that? I'm not sure I do, but I love seeing it. The magic of those soft, floaty, brightly colored orbs isn't easy to describe. The three kids I was sub tutoring this week mentioned on Tuesday that their usual tutor had talked about bringing cupcakes on their last day--today. I didn't really want to bring cupcakes and ran out of time anyway, but I remembered that I had some balloons in my bag-o-tutoring-supplies, left over from the days that the only way to get Layla to write letters was to let her write them in sharpie on a balloon. I thought that they'd be disappointed by this trade, but I figured that it would be better than nothing.
But no--they were so excited about the balloons. And then some of the kids from other groups wanted balloons. And then some kids in the hallway saw me walking with one, and asked if they could have balloons. And there is just something really wonderful about making kids happy in such a simple, easy way. And then one little boy asked me whether I was a balloon fairy, and suddenly the whole world sparkled.
I've been substitute tutoring this week at an elementary school across town, and it's been great. Really great. I've never tutored in math before at all, but these kids--two in fourth grade and one in fifth--were working on multiplication tables and elapsed time/algebraic expressions, respectively. I've discovered this week that work sheets are really not helpful, and can actually be a hindrance. I've discovered this week that encouragement and a smile can go a long, long way. I've also discovered that there are a lot of uses for Phase 10 dice and cards. One boy had worksheets left over from previous tutoring sessions, and he mainly worked on those. He made some progress, but not a huge amount. The other fourth grader came in knowing almost no multiplication at all--she had been described to me as having the most trouble with it--and spent most of each of our two sessions playing multiplication games with the dice and cards, and left today being able to give me quite a few answers to questions. She knows 6 x 6. She knows 8 x 8 and 9 x 9 and 6 x 5 and many others. She knows how to multiply tens now, and elevens, and she's starting to learn the logic of multiplication. The third girl, in fifth grade, never really had very much trouble that I could see with algebraic expressions, and she made progress in her understanding of elapsed time. She was the best worker in the group though, and as such probably received the least attention: and that right there is the biggest reason I prefer one-on-one tutoring, and one-on-one interactions in general. I absolutely loved working with these three children this week, but I would have loved even more the opportunity to work with each individually. There is an energy in small groups, though, that is hard to find elsewhere. I guess there are advantages and disadvantages to everything. It was a wonderful experience.
Pro tip from today: small children love balloons. I mean, they really love them. Do you remember that? I'm not sure I do, but I love seeing it. The magic of those soft, floaty, brightly colored orbs isn't easy to describe. The three kids I was sub tutoring this week mentioned on Tuesday that their usual tutor had talked about bringing cupcakes on their last day--today. I didn't really want to bring cupcakes and ran out of time anyway, but I remembered that I had some balloons in my bag-o-tutoring-supplies, left over from the days that the only way to get Layla to write letters was to let her write them in sharpie on a balloon. I thought that they'd be disappointed by this trade, but I figured that it would be better than nothing.
But no--they were so excited about the balloons. And then some of the kids from other groups wanted balloons. And then some kids in the hallway saw me walking with one, and asked if they could have balloons. And there is just something really wonderful about making kids happy in such a simple, easy way. And then one little boy asked me whether I was a balloon fairy, and suddenly the whole world sparkled.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
There just isn't enough trashy in my life.
It has come to my attention that there is nothing in my wardrobe that sparkles. Not one thing. Where can I find cheap crap with glitter and sprinkles*?
This appalling lack of trashy came to my attention on New Year's Eve, when Eva and I went to get dressed and while she was putting on a sparkly tank top, I was dejectedly pawing through my piles of cotton blends. It was a sad moment.
One thing I am happy about, though, [disclaimer here: I am so terrible at drawing a line when it comes to TMI and noonegivesashit and "that girl is so crazy (in a bad way)." I am aware of this. You should be aware that this is maybe one of those times where my inability to properly screen my subject matter is more apparent] is my colorful undergarments. I got some new ones via mail order while I was in Scotland, and I noticed this afternoon that the under layers I was wearing were (are) colored as follows: blue and white polka dot, plum-colored, bright yellow, and bright blue. And in the dirty clothes pile on the floor were (are) pink silk long johns with a matching shirt, and some more pink and blue and bright green and purple and "with stars" stuff. So maybe most of my normal clothes are boring and I have too strong an attachment to blue jeans and zip hoodies, but it's okay, because I'm like a mullet. Business in the front, yes?
I bought new chapstick (I use the term loosely in that I never buy Chapstick, only sticks of wax-based stuff to keep my lips from bleeding when it gets too dry out) tonight, and I didn't like it at all. This is at least the second time in a row that this has happened. Not cool. I gave it to Chloe. I've been using Burt's Bees for a while, but have been looking (out of boredom and curiosity more than dissatisfaction) for an alternative. I haven't been particularly successful, obviously.
We're throwing an engagement party for my cousin this weekend, and as trying to get me to cook or bake is generally a pretty painful experience for all involved (not that I can't; just that trying to get me to is a huge pain), my main job in all this is to paint the bathroom and not eat the freshly baked biscotti or cheese pennies or ham biscuits with pimento cheese, or whatever other delicious things get made this week, all from scratch. I'm sure that second part of the job, the not-eating-stuff part, will get harder as the week progresses, but at the moment I am feeling the irritation that is trying to scrape a bathroom that, for some unfathomably asinine reason, was painted ten years ago with flat paint. Except for the closet door frame, and one stretch of wall below the medicine cabinet, which were sensibly painted with semigloss. Whose idea was that? Flat paint, by the way, does not hold up to moisture. Like, at all. Don't f-ing paint your bathroom (or kitchen, for God's sake) with flat paint.
On the plus side, and on an entirely different note, we lost power the other day. I think some drunken idiot ran into a power pole or something, because a huge section of the neighborhood lost power on a fairly clear, non-windy evening. Obviously that isn't super great. It's "on the plus side" because I texted Jack to tell him the power was out and ask him if he needed a flashlight or extra blankets or anything, and then he came home with five snuggies. I have way too much stubborn pride to actually buy a snuggie, but damned if I'm going to let one go to waste. Also, as it turns out, a snuggie is (or seems to be) the perfect thing for my father, who is nearly always cold but doesn't like using blankets or adding lots of layers. Cozy light blanket with arms? It's the perfect compromise! I can't imagine why we didn't think of this before.
*Halfway meant to type "sparkles," but had intended to type "metallic sequins" before I stopped paying attention to what I was typing. I think I'll leave sprinkles though.
**Homeless footnote: in the interest of using this like a diary and giving myself some actual record of what's going on even when I don't feel like typing/talking about it, I should admit that I have been super emo about David lately. "Super emo" is probably far too strong a phrase, but whatever. And anyway, it's hard to be so completely single when kissing is so much fun, and when there are piles of colorful awesomeness lying around. I mean really.
This appalling lack of trashy came to my attention on New Year's Eve, when Eva and I went to get dressed and while she was putting on a sparkly tank top, I was dejectedly pawing through my piles of cotton blends. It was a sad moment.
One thing I am happy about, though, [disclaimer here: I am so terrible at drawing a line when it comes to TMI and noonegivesashit and "that girl is so crazy (in a bad way)." I am aware of this. You should be aware that this is maybe one of those times where my inability to properly screen my subject matter is more apparent] is my colorful undergarments. I got some new ones via mail order while I was in Scotland, and I noticed this afternoon that the under layers I was wearing were (are) colored as follows: blue and white polka dot, plum-colored, bright yellow, and bright blue. And in the dirty clothes pile on the floor were (are) pink silk long johns with a matching shirt, and some more pink and blue and bright green and purple and "with stars" stuff. So maybe most of my normal clothes are boring and I have too strong an attachment to blue jeans and zip hoodies, but it's okay, because I'm like a mullet. Business in the front, yes?
I bought new chapstick (I use the term loosely in that I never buy Chapstick, only sticks of wax-based stuff to keep my lips from bleeding when it gets too dry out) tonight, and I didn't like it at all. This is at least the second time in a row that this has happened. Not cool. I gave it to Chloe. I've been using Burt's Bees for a while, but have been looking (out of boredom and curiosity more than dissatisfaction) for an alternative. I haven't been particularly successful, obviously.
We're throwing an engagement party for my cousin this weekend, and as trying to get me to cook or bake is generally a pretty painful experience for all involved (not that I can't; just that trying to get me to is a huge pain), my main job in all this is to paint the bathroom and not eat the freshly baked biscotti or cheese pennies or ham biscuits with pimento cheese, or whatever other delicious things get made this week, all from scratch. I'm sure that second part of the job, the not-eating-stuff part, will get harder as the week progresses, but at the moment I am feeling the irritation that is trying to scrape a bathroom that, for some unfathomably asinine reason, was painted ten years ago with flat paint. Except for the closet door frame, and one stretch of wall below the medicine cabinet, which were sensibly painted with semigloss. Whose idea was that? Flat paint, by the way, does not hold up to moisture. Like, at all. Don't f-ing paint your bathroom (or kitchen, for God's sake) with flat paint.
On the plus side, and on an entirely different note, we lost power the other day. I think some drunken idiot ran into a power pole or something, because a huge section of the neighborhood lost power on a fairly clear, non-windy evening. Obviously that isn't super great. It's "on the plus side" because I texted Jack to tell him the power was out and ask him if he needed a flashlight or extra blankets or anything, and then he came home with five snuggies. I have way too much stubborn pride to actually buy a snuggie, but damned if I'm going to let one go to waste. Also, as it turns out, a snuggie is (or seems to be) the perfect thing for my father, who is nearly always cold but doesn't like using blankets or adding lots of layers. Cozy light blanket with arms? It's the perfect compromise! I can't imagine why we didn't think of this before.
*Halfway meant to type "sparkles," but had intended to type "metallic sequins" before I stopped paying attention to what I was typing. I think I'll leave sprinkles though.
**Homeless footnote: in the interest of using this like a diary and giving myself some actual record of what's going on even when I don't feel like typing/talking about it, I should admit that I have been super emo about David lately. "Super emo" is probably far too strong a phrase, but whatever. And anyway, it's hard to be so completely single when kissing is so much fun, and when there are piles of colorful awesomeness lying around. I mean really.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
We had one of those long, mostly substantive talks.
Some lessons learned via said conversation:
I am doing nobody any favors by aspiring to become a career receptionist. That's idiotic.
Mutable schedules? No. Things happen When They Are Scheduled. Even if I am the one who scheduled them. Period.
I will get up at 9 or earlier. Period.* This "sleeping until I have something to do" thing has got to stop.
Art Time will be from 10-noon.**
Other things can be scheduled around these.
On another note, the palette of the river has been so lovely lately. All made up of the most delicate shades of purple, blue, pink, and grey. Every time I cross it I wish I could just stop on the bridge and get out, and stare or paint or at the very least take pictures. I love going with people to the river, but I always feel pushed to move on more quickly than I would to the next thing. Left to my own devices I will sometimes just look at the water for an hour or more. Usually, of course, there is something else that needs to be done before so much time has passed. I sat with David by the river once, the powerful Rappahannock, a week after we broke up. We just watched the water rush by, and talked very little as I remember. That night we were rushed to dinner only by the cold of a March evening.
I left my tea like an idiot while I got dressed earlier, and I let it steep far too long. It's bitter. And I have promised myself to cut back on the ungodly amounts of honey I use in tea, so I am just drinking it bitter. English Breakfast tea, too. What a shame. Still, it's nice to have time to drink tea in the morning. And all because I got out of bed at 9ish. Mmmm.
*Well, my alarm went off at 9 today, but I actually "got up" about 15-20 minutes later. But that's a start, right? Particularly considering that I don't have anywhere to be until nearly 11.
**I felt a lot more adamant about this last night, but I am going to try to stick with it, even if only for the sake of having some structure in my day, and particularly something to get up for. For discipline. And I think better when I spend time painting. I breathe better. Maybe I'll add "blank stretched canvasses" to that Christmas list. And Bailey's. Did I say Bailey's before? And dark brown Uggs. Don't judge me. They're the warmest things I have ever put on my feet.
I am doing nobody any favors by aspiring to become a career receptionist. That's idiotic.
Mutable schedules? No. Things happen When They Are Scheduled. Even if I am the one who scheduled them. Period.
I will get up at 9 or earlier. Period.* This "sleeping until I have something to do" thing has got to stop.
Art Time will be from 10-noon.**
Other things can be scheduled around these.
On another note, the palette of the river has been so lovely lately. All made up of the most delicate shades of purple, blue, pink, and grey. Every time I cross it I wish I could just stop on the bridge and get out, and stare or paint or at the very least take pictures. I love going with people to the river, but I always feel pushed to move on more quickly than I would to the next thing. Left to my own devices I will sometimes just look at the water for an hour or more. Usually, of course, there is something else that needs to be done before so much time has passed. I sat with David by the river once, the powerful Rappahannock, a week after we broke up. We just watched the water rush by, and talked very little as I remember. That night we were rushed to dinner only by the cold of a March evening.
I left my tea like an idiot while I got dressed earlier, and I let it steep far too long. It's bitter. And I have promised myself to cut back on the ungodly amounts of honey I use in tea, so I am just drinking it bitter. English Breakfast tea, too. What a shame. Still, it's nice to have time to drink tea in the morning. And all because I got out of bed at 9ish. Mmmm.
*Well, my alarm went off at 9 today, but I actually "got up" about 15-20 minutes later. But that's a start, right? Particularly considering that I don't have anywhere to be until nearly 11.
**I felt a lot more adamant about this last night, but I am going to try to stick with it, even if only for the sake of having some structure in my day, and particularly something to get up for. For discipline. And I think better when I spend time painting. I breathe better. Maybe I'll add "blank stretched canvasses" to that Christmas list. And Bailey's. Did I say Bailey's before? And dark brown Uggs. Don't judge me. They're the warmest things I have ever put on my feet.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Important Announcement
Attention: the first bright and shiny outdoor decorated tree is decorated! It lives just at the end of my street, so I get to look at it every time I pull out onto the main road at night. Love.
(The holiday season is heralded by NPR jazz playing on the car radio as green and red and white lights flicker and flow through dark, misty rain-shined streets. Also, brightly decorated outdoor trees.)
Tonight I went home to have dinner with my parents and walk Miley--but as I believe I have mentioned*, Miley needs to be walked late at night if she is to be expected to refrain from waking my mother at 4 or 5 am. After dinner, therefore, I retired to my room and began playing dress-up with my new boots (by the way, my boots came in the mail yesterday), ostensibly in an effort to find something to wear on the plane to Scotland. I really did (mostly) start out with that aim, but it quickly degenerated into "let's figure out how many things I can get away with wearing with grey boots and orangeish-yellow tights." Since "get away with" is a relative term and at times like this I have very little shame, it turns out that the answer is "a lot." But still, if I am going to have any success on my campaign to bring color to Dundee (where, I have heard, nobody wears any colors), I am going to need a lot more pairs of colored tights.
I am house/pet sitting again for Sara's parents, and I have just run out of Bailey's. This is so uncool. I might have to go to the ABC store tomorrow like an alkie** and get some more.
On another note,
Linked on facebook by my friend Cliff
*I mistyped this at first, but evidently "mentioend" is a word***.
**This is one of those sometimes-mildly-frustrating abbreviations that are spelled in ways that don't really relate to the parent word. Technically this should be "alchey" or "alchie," which are totally unsatisfying spellings, and misleading in terms of pronounciation. I guess the accepted spelling ("alkie") can be justified by categorizing it as slang. I guess.
***Actually, it appears that this computer (or this browser?) has spell check turned off. Good to know I suppose, but now I'm worried that everything I am writing is riddled with typos. Just yesterday I realized that the last formspring question I had the honor of answering was answered with a "to" where a "too" should be. I was mortified. Someone please, please have mercy and give me something else to put at the top of my page. Not that anyone is reading that stuff, but I have my pride.
(The holiday season is heralded by NPR jazz playing on the car radio as green and red and white lights flicker and flow through dark, misty rain-shined streets. Also, brightly decorated outdoor trees.)
Tonight I went home to have dinner with my parents and walk Miley--but as I believe I have mentioned*, Miley needs to be walked late at night if she is to be expected to refrain from waking my mother at 4 or 5 am. After dinner, therefore, I retired to my room and began playing dress-up with my new boots (by the way, my boots came in the mail yesterday), ostensibly in an effort to find something to wear on the plane to Scotland. I really did (mostly) start out with that aim, but it quickly degenerated into "let's figure out how many things I can get away with wearing with grey boots and orangeish-yellow tights." Since "get away with" is a relative term and at times like this I have very little shame, it turns out that the answer is "a lot." But still, if I am going to have any success on my campaign to bring color to Dundee (where, I have heard, nobody wears any colors), I am going to need a lot more pairs of colored tights.
I am house/pet sitting again for Sara's parents, and I have just run out of Bailey's. This is so uncool. I might have to go to the ABC store tomorrow like an alkie** and get some more.
On another note,
Linked on facebook by my friend Cliff
*I mistyped this at first, but evidently "mentioend" is a word***.
**This is one of those sometimes-mildly-frustrating abbreviations that are spelled in ways that don't really relate to the parent word. Technically this should be "alchey" or "alchie," which are totally unsatisfying spellings, and misleading in terms of pronounciation. I guess the accepted spelling ("alkie") can be justified by categorizing it as slang. I guess.
***Actually, it appears that this computer (or this browser?) has spell check turned off. Good to know I suppose, but now I'm worried that everything I am writing is riddled with typos. Just yesterday I realized that the last formspring question I had the honor of answering was answered with a "to" where a "too" should be. I was mortified. Someone please, please have mercy and give me something else to put at the top of my page. Not that anyone is reading that stuff, but I have my pride.
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