twain on nablo...or something

I just read the following.

Nobody, except he has tried it, knows what it is to be an [newspaper] editor. It is easy to scribble local rubbish, with the facts all before you; it is easy to clip selections from other papers; it is easy to string out a correspondence from any locality; but it is unspeakable hardship to write editorials. Subjects are the trouble -- the dreary lack of them, I mean. Every day it is drag, drag, drag -- think, and worry and suffer -- all the world is a dull blank, and yet the editorial columns must be filled. Only give the editor a subject, and his work is done -- it is no trouble to write it up; but fancy how you would feel if you had to pump your brains dry every day in the week, fifty-two weeks in the year. It makes one low spirited simply to think of it. The matter that each editor of a daily paper in America writes in the course of a year would fill from four to eight bulky volumes like this book! Fancy what a library an editor's work would make, after twenty or thirty year's service. Yet people often marvel that Dickens, Scott, Bulwer, Dumas, etc., have been able to produce so many books. If these authors have wrought as voluminously as newspaper editors do, the result would be something to marvel at, indeed. How editors can continue this tremendous labor, this exhausting consumption of brain fibre (for their work is creative, and not a mere mechanical laying-up of facts, like reporting), day after day and year after year, is incomprehensible.

-- from Roughing It

happy birthday (anniversary), mr clemens

Have been doing a bit of reading around in Clemens's works lately. A sampling, from his time at the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise (December 30-31, 1862):

THRILLING ROMANCE. -- On our first page, to-day, will be found the opening chapters of a thrilling tale, entitled "An Act to amend and supplemental to an Act to provide for Assessing and Collecting County and Territorial Revenue." This admirable story was written especially for the columns of this paper by several distinguished authors. We have secured a few more productions of the same kind, at great expense, and we design publishing them in their regular order. Our readers will agree with us that it will redound considerably to their advantage to read and preserve these documents.

I would so read the local paper if the writing was in this style.

monday music: 'just sit right back and you'll hear a tale' (or, 'because i could not stop for death')

One: Head on over and listen to the Gilligan's Island theme song (cannot embed, alas).

Two: Read some Emily Dickinson. Try some "Because I could not stop for Death" or "My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun."

Three: Add steps one and two above. Sing to self or others until you can get something else stuck in your head.

You're welcome.

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I learned about this that semester I also learned about YouTube. I'm pretty sure I was one of the last people to know about either. Okay, maybe not, but probably, right?

a bit of lit: 'high' and 'low' culture

From Diane Long Hoeveler's "Frankenstein, feminism, and literary theory": "...feminism has long posited that 'high' culture is a system that favors males and that acts to ensure the continued power and status of the patriarchy. By examining what has traditionally been considered 'low' cultural artifacts, feminists have opened up and made available many works written by women and neglected by the literary establishment."

I would also argue that literary feminism includes opening up the canon and the conversation to include more than the men who've reigned and the women mentioned above,to also include every other voice possible. Perhaps this is just my naive idealism shining brightly? I think that's okay, though.

a bit of lit: quick quotes edition

A couple of things I'm currently reading...

"By the time the shade had reached the river, Augustus would have mellowed with the evening and be ready for some intelligent conversation, which usually involved talking to himself." -- Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry

"Bully has nothing to do with a bull: it comes from the Dutch for 'lover,' boel." -- The Joy of Lex, Gyles Brandreth

I'm not really sure what to do with the information in that second quotation. Is there some kind of a tough love mindset going on? Actually, I doubt it; I figure someone thought the word sounded appropriate in a situation when one person was pushing another person around, and, although the word didn't really fit the situation, it stuck, despite the cruel irony.

a little look at language: not so funny

Last night, I knocked my knee on something in the kitchen and experienced a moment of numbness and then tingling. Although I bumped my knee and not my elbow, I immediately thought of the term "funny bone." I have never understood why people ask, "Oh, did you hit your funny bone?" when one is reeling in pain after smacking her elbow.

Well, a little later, I was reading through some New York Times archives (of course) and was enlightened. In July 1980, William Safire wrote, in the "On Language" column dedicated to discussion of puns, "Once in a while, puns become part of the language: the 'funny bone' is a play on 'humerus,' the bone that extends from shoulder to elbow."

Tell me I'm not the only person who didn't know that.

quick quote*

I have, for the last 1331 days, had a quotation sent to my e-mail inbox. Most of the time, I delete the e-mail without having read the quotation, but today I thought I might as well check out whatever words of wisdom had been sent my way. Here they be:

INTEMPERANCE.--A man may choose whether he will have abstemiousness and knowledge, or claret and ignorance.--DR. JOHNSON.

("Intemperance" is the category under which the quotation-choosing deities have categorized this, in case that wasn't obvious.)

Okay, then, abstemiousness is mine, bring on the knowledge! I haven't overindulged in food since, oh, this past weekend, and I have yet to ever indulge in claret. Seriously, now, where's the knowledge?

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* Alas, no quill.

a bit of lit: elizabeth jackson to her son

Still reading Women's Letters: America from the Revolutionary War to the Present, edited by Lisa Grunwald and Stephen J Adler. Still reading it very slowly.

Another good mother-to-son letter. Another letter to a to-be president. Elizabeth Jackson wrote this to her son, Andrew, when he was fourteen. She died the year she wrote this.

Excerpt:

If I should not see you again I wish you to remember and treasure up some things I already said to you: in this world you will have to make your own way. To do that you must have friends. You can make friends by being honest, and you can keep them by being steadfast. You must keep in mind that friends worth having will in the long run expect as much from you as they give to you.

...

In personal conduct always be polite, but never obsequious. No one will respect you more than you esteem yourself. Avoid quarrels as long as you can without yielding to imposition.

...

Never wound the feelings of others. If ever you have to vindicate your feelings or defend your honor, do it calmly. If angry at first, wait till your wrath cools before you proceed.

from the mouth of the babe

Testament to my cooking prowess:

Last night, I made (as in heated some frozen) garlic bread. I left it in the oven a tad too long and the edges were black. All was okay because, of course, you can just scrape the blackened parts off.

This morning, as I was making myself breakfast, I was putting more bread in the oven* and asked Pic if she wanted another piece. She told me, "Yes, but please scrape off the black part."

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*I had roasted broccoli and cauliflower and a piece of garlic bread.

a bit of lit: a multiplicity of chat

Currently, Cardo and I are very slowly working our way through Women's Letters: America from the Revolutionary War to the Present, edited by Lisa Grunwald and Stephen J. Adler.

We're still in the Revolutionary War era.

First, why did I never know that small pox was such a big problem during the Revolutionary War? Did I know that at some point and forget it?

Second, I love reading these letters.

There're a couple by Sally Wister, a teen, to her friend Deborah Norris. Sally is writing about the soldiers quartered at her home. In the second of Sally's letter included, she goes on for a bit, detailing both a soldier's and her side of a conversation, before she admits that she can't detail the entire conversation. She says to Debby, as she calls her, "'Tis impossible to write a regular account of our conversation. Be it sufficient to say that we had a multiplicity of chat."

I'm working that last phrase into my lexicon.

There's also included a pretty great letter from Abigail Adams to her eleven-year-old son, John Quincy, in which she goes on and on about how he should live out good morals and make good choices. He was with his father in Europe. The letter is seven not-short paragraphs long. In the seventh paragraph, she tells her son, "But, to quit political subjects. I have been greatly anxious for your safely, having never heard of the frigate since she sailed, till, about a week ago, a New York paper informed, that she was taken and carried into Plymouth. I did not fully credit this report, though it gave me much uneasiness. I yesterday heard that a French vessel was arrived at Portsmouth, which brought news of the safe arrival of the Boston but this wants confirmation. I hope it will not be long before I shall be assured of your safety. You must write me an account of your voyage, of your situations, and of every thing entertaining you can recollect."

'that's fire, beats everything'

Pic has recently discovered Rock, Paper, Scissors. Right now, we just play it to play it. We don't yet use it as the challenge that leads to the winner earning some pre-selected prize. ("Rock, Paper, Scissors, Go!" "I win! Now, I get to sit here and ponder life's mysteries while you sweep the floor."*)

I just read this article on winning strategies for Rock, Paper, Scissors. (Seriously.) I didn't know, until I read it, that there is a world championship for the game. Wow. Best three...hundred out of 301?

I have yet to introduce Pic to the more eccentric possibilites in the game:


"Friends-1008: TOW The Late Thanksgiving (rock-paper-scissors)"

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* Actually, I'm quite pleased to say that when I sweep the floor, Pic usually grabs her broom and helps out. And, yes, I just knocked on wood.

this cracks me out

Phrases that would seem so mundane (or just strange) coming from adults' mouths just seem so funny when they pop out of Pic's mouth. I'm thinking part of it is me marveling at how she even comes across and/or comes up with these things. Part is also that there must be something biological that keeps me oh-so-interested in her doings...and sayings.

So, what has Pic come up with lately?

"That's a toughie! That's going to be a toughie!"

"Can't you believe it?!"

"That cracks me out!"

More? The other day, she told me she was hot, so I told her we'd put her in some ice or put her in the freezer. Her response: "Do you want me to get chicken pops?!"

I asked her, "Chicken pox?"

"Yes, do you want me to get chicken pops?"

"Why would you get chicken pox?"

"Because, when we get cold, we get chicken pops," she reasoned.

"Oh, goose bumps!"

And, finally: the other day, we were visiting Grandma J who asked Pic what kinds of toys she liked. Pic responded, "Oh, I like stuffed animals. And, stuffed people." Cardo and I spent the following several minutes avoiding each others' eyes and stifling laughter.

I keep wondering if we'll always be so amused with the little things she says.

i will look forward to this

I was just discussing phrases I find funny with Cardo and my dad. I mentioned "I'll look forward to that" which always makes me stop and think a moment. I always want to know when the person will start looking forward to the event.

Anyhow, I am looking forward to the opening of the children's museum up here. Should be about two more months. I really hope this is going to happen.

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I have more to write about regarding our many and varied unschooling adventures, but I've a headache and I need to sign off soon. It's been a long day of 5th St., Virginia City, the pool, dinner and a walk.

one up and one down

Yesterday, in the midst of me floundering around, trying to function like a "normal" human (whatever that means), Pic is having a great time. While I'm having a quiet, but scary, breakdown, she is soaking in the good times. How can I make sure she holds onto that? How do I attain that for myself?

Anyhow, we were settling down last night, Pic told me, "This was a great day! I got to see the fireworks, I got a pocsicle, I gotted to play. And, did you see me do the monkey bars? I did them all by myself!" (No, those weren't typos. I was transcribing Pic-speak.)

Looking at it through her eyes, it's all crayon scribbles and sparklies. We should bottle that up!

a little look at language

I went to a movie today. In an actual theatre. A first-run movie.

So, anyhow, there was a nice long stretch of trailers before the film started and a great many of them had a little disclaimer pointing out that "The following preview has been approved for appropriate audiences." Well, thanks for the incredibly vague notice. Perhaps it's a guessing game: Whoever figures out who the "appropriate audience" is wins!

Anyhow, the rest of the outing was cut short, but will be picked up again in a few days.

a reality show i would watch

I saw the following on Mrs Q's Fed Up With Lunch: The School Lunch Project [I'm figuring it's okay to repost in full because it isn't her own writing, but something that had been floating around the interweb...I'm including the link to her site because I still feel I should give credit.]



Next Season on Survivor...
Have you heard about the next planned Survivor show?

Three businessmen and three businesswomen will be dropped in an elementary school classroom for one school year. Each business person will be provided with a copy of his/her school district's curriculum, and a class of 25 students, no aide.

Each class will have a minimum of five learning-disabled children, three with A.D.H.D., one gifted child, and two who speak limited English. Three students will be labeled with severe behavior problems.

Each business person must complete lesson plans at least three days in advance, with annotations for curriculum objectives and modify, organize, or create their materials accordingly. They will be required to teach students, handle misconduct, implement technology, document attendance, write referrals, correct homework, make bulletin boards, compute grades, complete report cards, document benchmarks, communicate with parents, and arrange parent conferences. They must also stand in their doorway between class changes to monitor the hallways.

In addition, they will complete fire drills, tornado drills, and the drills for shooting attacks each month. They must attend workshops, faculty meetings, and attend curriculum development meetings. They must also tutor students who are behind and strive to get their non-English speaking children proficient enough to take the tests. If they are sick or having a bad day, they must not let it show.

Each day they must incorporate reading, writing, math, science, and social studies into the program. They must maintain discipline and provide an educationally stimulating environment to motivate students at all times. If all students do not wish to cooperate, work, or learn, the teacher will be held responsible.

Lunch will be limited to twenty minutes, which is not counted as part of the work day. The business people will be permitted to use a student restroom, as long as another survival candidate can supervise their class.
If the copier is operable, they may make copies of necessary materials before, or after, school. However, they cannot surpass their monthly limit of copies. The business people must continually advance their education, at their expense, and on their own time.

The winner of this Season of Survivor will be allowed to return to their old job.

Pass this to your friends who think teaching is easy, and to the ones that know it is hard...

screens and sleep, not the best of friends

We've been spending much less time in front of screens lately, especially in the evening. (In fact, I'm about to be signing off here shortly.) This has made getting to sleep at night somewhat easier, but it has made it much more difficult for me to visit this space. Especially because when I do enter the ether, I want to check out other people's blogs before I start working on my own.

So, I'll be slowly working on how to work visiting into this space into my daily rhythm. I am thinking that will mean much more writing by hand and transcribing (or whatever the typing equivalent of that is) later. For now, I'll be sharing little bits here and there, although I have a lot of thoughts for longer posts mulling in my head.

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A bit of conversation from the other night:

I was telling Pic that the backs of my knees hurt (reason: sunburn...ouch). She told me, "My legs hurt, too. It hurts my craps."

I asked her, ignoring that I had no idea what "it" was, "Your what?"

"My craps."

"What?"

"Craps."

Insert my thoughtful pause here. Pic points at her leg and asks, "What are these?"

"Oh! Your calves!"

Never a dull moment.

putting it gently

Pic and I both had cereal for lunch today. Pic poured herself some Cheerios and I asked her where she found the box (that was not located in the cupboard). She responded, "I found it on top of the used-to-be-working microwave."

Perhaps it's time to get rid of that.

overheard

At a program at the (fabulous!) library today, one of the kids in the audience was introducing himself: "My name's Drake! D-r-a-k-e," he spelled out.

"Oh, Drake. I don't know many Drakes," said one of the librarians.

"No! There's only one. There aren't Drakes!"

seen and heard

The other day, as I was leaving the bank with a wad of ones for the bus, I noticed a sign that says "Thank you." It's in pretty big print on an a standard sheet of paper. Along the bottom of the sign, in much smaller print, was the following: "Please see a teller or a brochure for details." I'm not sure what details are necessary in that case. Perhaps they wanted to clarify just what they were thanking me for?

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Last night, we went to dinner for possibly our last Thursday night dinner out for a while. As we were eating, someone across the dining room was imbibing in some tequila, which, she declared, changed her person-al-ity. For a full five minutes that felt like much longer, she felt it necessary to loudly repeat "Balls to the wall!" When she tired of this, she shortened it to just "Balls!" At one point, a couple of diners felt it more comfortable, perhaps, to move to our side of the dining room, away from the balls-to-the-wall woman.

Dinner and entertainment.