Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the category “reflections”

11 Jun 2014
8 Comments

O Me, O My, My Birthday


Here is a math problem:

“Person X, soon to have a birthday, realizes this birthday will be the same chronological year as the birth year. Person X also realizes the birth year and achieved age are flipped numbers of the year of high school graduation. Given the birth year, chronological age, and graduation year, how old is Person X.”

I think I had this math problem in my eighth grade textbook.  This is probably why I decided to major in English.

But it’s true: I realized something unique about this year’s birthday–I shall turn the age of my birth year, at least the last two digits. When I compute that in my brain it sounds like I’m much older than I really am. What it comes down to is this:
I’m not sure how I feel about this particular chronos marking.

  •  I’m not old enough to retire, although some establishments elect to grant me a discount.
  • I’m past AARP’s initial invitation.
  • I’m old enough to know better, yet still have the gumption to still give it a whirl. Then again, it depends on the “it.” Bungee-jumping requires a deeper consideration these days as does the all you can eat buffet.
  • I can remember the “when I was”, although I am amazed at how long ago the when truly was, plus some of the details are fuzzy.
  • I no longer look forward to birthday cake because I only see calories laughing at me under all those candles.
  • Speaking of candles, the little skinny invids have been replaced by the fat doubles. I find this an insulting truism of my present state of figure.

My mother raised me thinking birthdays were really extra special. Part of that reasoning stems from waking up and seeing flags hanging up all over town and in front of everyone’s house. I never questioned my mother’s ability to achieve this. She was that kind of mother. It wasn’t until I turned about twelve that I learned June 14th signified Flag Day and hanging out the flag was expected. Please no comments about my naiveté or lack of American holiday knowledge. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I discovered another disenchantment–birthdays are only really a big deal up until the age of 21.

The Dr. knows how to make the special day special!

All the big deal birthday milestones take place in this order:

1. turning one: not too cognizant but it’s a big deal nonetheless
2. turning five: Yay! Go to school!
3. turning ten: Wow! double-digit
4. turning thirteen: All right! Teen Time
5. turning sixteen: Yes, I’m gonna drive my car
6. turning eighteen: Yay! Get out of school! Oh yeah–vote for important stuff too.
7. turning twenty-one: Omigosh! I’m considered an adult–all kinds of perks.

After twenty-one there are some milestones to consider such as thirty, forty, fifty–okay, I’ll stop there. All those in between and beyond years are rather tedious and accumulative. Yes, it is nice to get cards and presents, and okay, one small piece of cake.  The wake up to ME day (check out the Dr. Seuss book) isn’t happening anymore.  Is that sad or a state of reality?

For instance, instead of relaxing and trying to encourage the Queen for a Day mode, I allowed myself to get talked into proctoring for the ACT–funny how extra money is a motivator when the car is acting up. This is not how I envision the first part of my birthday. Lounging in bed definitely was part of that vision. Oh well, I don’t sleep past 7am anyway.
The MEPA assured me the rest of the day will proceed better. A muttered “kidnapping” floated my way. I’m not sure if this is a threat or a promise.

How do the rest of you spend your birthdays? Are they still big deals or just a tick on the age stick?

Posted in America, celebrations, holidays, reflections, summer, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , ,
10 Jun 2014
3 Comments

Just Another Smalltown Graduation


One thing about living in a small town (under 8,000) is how everyone comes out to cheer on our graduates.  Rain or shine we hold the ceremony out on the football field so that as many people as possible can stand, sit, recline as they root on children, siblings, friends, neighbors transitioning out from high school to the “real” world–I ponder this expression, but shall save for another post, another time.

This year the weather remained in the perfect mid 70s with a touch of balmy breeze.

I volunteer as one of the staff crowd control, which involves trying to look imposing enough so that anyone trying to edge up beyond the perimeter rope won’t even think about it. The look and stance usually last about the first fifteen minutes before someone sneaks past and then the inevitable breach occurs. Crowd control is annoying as well as fun.  Telling people “please stay behind the line” when they only want a quick hug and photo op makes me feel a bit heartless. Yet, chaos would ensue if there wasn’t some attempt at decorum.  Did I ever tell you about the time someone handed a grad a lit cigar as he approached the admin gauntlet and he blew cigar smoke in the principal’s face?  Well, that’s one reason we now have a perimeter rope. It’s a rowdy crowd.  I’m always amazed at how loud  people can whistle, yell, or airhorn their sentiments to the exiting grads. I think having the ceremony on the football field must influence the enthusiasm.

We don’t invite in a fancy shmancy speaker–it’s all student-generated, except for a brief commentary from our principal. There is the Senior Class President, student nominated speakers, plus the valedictorian and salutotorian.  Each speech varies in its focus. The range is humorous with last-minute digs at admin and staff and students to sentimental and sincere (“Thanks, Mom.”).

Then the pomp and circumstance and parade begins. In a twinkling all too soon, students cross the stage and emerge as adults stepping into the next phase of their life. As they turn up the ramp to take their bleachers there are last-minute congratulations and hugs.  And the inevitable, “Please stay behind the rope–okay, make it quick.”

Yup, gotta love the small town celebration of life’s accomplishments.

image: blog.sparefoot.com

Posted in America, celebrations, education, reflections, Teachers, Writing and tagged , , ,
05 Jun 2014
3 Comments

Having a Senior Moment


Today marked the last day and first day for a group of seniors.  As we wrapped up their visual essays that little old epiphany popped up:

“Hey guys, do you realize this is the last class on the last day of your high school career?” I obviously was more impressed with that fact than they were. I offered up the Kleenex box, but no takers. There’s no room for tears when there is cheering going on!

Wanting to capture the moment before they all split in separate directions I said their exit ticket required five memories of AP Senior Literature.  Silly me, I was thinking they might mention any of the following:

  • “I sure appreciate knowing how to properly apply anaphora and polysyndeton when emphasizing my need for repetition and parallelism.”
  • “Having learned the significance of water when reading literature makes me want to run right out and grab a copy of Moby Dick this weekend.”
  • “I wake up in the middle of the night craving yet one more reading of Prufrock’s lovesong.

No. None of that. Instead they popped off these memories:

“Your cow jokes.”

“The story of how you met your husband and made polenta for him.”

“French day. All that bread and cheese and fruit we enjoyed when watching Cyrano de Bergerac.”

Nope. All the labor spent on creating scintillating lesson plans went unnoticed and instead the personal aspects is what became memorable for them.  Lesson learned: The best teaching comes from learning to set aside the plans now and then.

I’ll miss this batch of seniors, we’ve had our share of moments, that’s for sure.  Saturday is graduation and once they leave behind high school I wonder if they’ll take along some new friends with them–Jane, Janie, Lizzie, Darcy…

Posted in America, education, Literature, reflections, Teachers, Writing and tagged , , ,
01 Jun 2014
3 Comments

Of Memos and Mementos


When I return to school on Monday I will return to countdown week.  Every day is finals, which means every day is closer to school ending. Pause… How do I feel about that? Umm, isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for all year?  Okay, maybe not all year, but pretty close to it.

The year started out with surprises:

1. New technology. Learn now.  You didn’t get the memo?

2. We moved the Senior Project up one month. Sorry, we forgot to send the memo.

3. Two classes have 30 students, while one has 14.  Maybe I should send a memo.

4. Common Core Standards implementation–no one counted on month long testing.  Forget memos–stock up on Tums.

Those were not the nicer surprises, although I did have a few of those as well:

1. “You’re my favorite teacher!” one of my special ed students reminds me every class.

2. All AP students stuck it out and didn’t transfer when the going got tough.

3. I received a glossing 8×10 photo of the “Three Hubri” decked out in their prom finery.

4. More freshmen passed than failed first semester this year.

The end of the year always surprises me when it arrives.  I can’t wait for summer to start, yet there is still so much I want to teach my students.  Unfortunately, they too want summer to start and their brains are beginning to resist anymore knowledge bits that try to drift in past their deflector shields.

Tick, tick, ticking the time away.

Really. Where did the year go?

Posted in America, education, reflections, Teachers, Uncategorized and tagged , , , ,
27 May 2014
2 Comments

The Road Less Traveled


NOT on the road again…sorry, Willy N. image: http://www.3.bp.blogspot.com

The open road tends to beckon when twenty something. That yearning to travel starts young and bubbles up in the teens, often erupting into a boil up upon achieving graduation.

Where to go? Europe, Australia, explore the continental USA–all possibilities.
I was fortunate to travel to Europe when a mere 21, spending the entire summer in Bavaria visiting family, experiencing Deutschland like a native.

No, I did not go total native when visiting Bavaria

Even though I had family around, comforts, experiences, even fabulous doses of chocolate, I was incredibly homesick. Good thing I discovered early my penchant towards being a homebody. I have yet to renew my passport.

From time to time I do wonder what it would be like to see more sights than I have.

For instance, I recently attended a conference and inevitably we shared a bit about our lives. When I hear how some people have been all over the globe and they are barely dipping into their thirties, I reflect as to whether I’ve missed something. Part of me wonders what it would have been like to live in Paris, go to school in England, backpack in Europe, live in Melbourne.  And then I drift away from the postcard daydreams and realize some are born to travel and some are born to stay home.  Dorothy and I got that RubyRed Slipper thang down–we know there is no place like home *click click*

Ruby Slippers

Because being ever so cool–I want those transporter powers of the Ruby Reds image: http://www.ladymirror.com

I derive great enjoyment and satisfaction from cozying up in my little house. Got my wood-stove for winter, hammock for summer, my recliner couch and remote control, my pillow top bed, choice of clothing, eats, whatever I need. Truly there is no place like home.
Sure it’s nice to get a change of scenery now and then. For instance, that conference I attended? What a tonic to meet new people, exchange new ideas, and explore new places.  However, after the second day, I couldn’t wait to get back home. I will not be joining the corp of retired teachers of RVing around, skipping from one sunny spot to another. Okay, maybe taking off January and February is a possibility. Living in the land of snow and ice can’t always be remedied by the wood-stove and a stack of good books.
So, me, Dorothy, and Toto all agree that there are some mighty cool sights somewhere over the rainbow, but after it’s all said and done, there really is no place like home.

cozy-home-500x375.jpg

Aah–that cozy home feeling–nothing like it image: http://www.allthingschic.net

Posted in reflections, travel, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , ,
24 May 2014
8 Comments

Wrap Up or Fall Flat


After five years of stop and go writing on my historical novel I’m nearing the end chapters. It’s rather intimidating. The ending involves the reuniting of a homestead mother with her family. The way I have presented the conflict is that there is some ambiguity of whether the mother left the family due to the grind of daily life as a pioneer women or if she wandered away due to fever delirium.
Here’s what I need to figure out:
-Is the husband readily accepting her leaving the family and not returning once she was better? (He’s a good guy overall, but was left with six children ages 3-15 to raise in her absence)
-How will the daughter (her POV) feel about her mama at this point? Anger, relief? This girl took on the task of raising her three ornery brothers and packed up her petticoats and put on pants to do so in order up keep up with them.

The right grab really counts… image: bodyresults.com

 

Reaching the end chapters is a lot like rock climbing. A cadence is developed in both–the reach and pull up towards progress. Just when the top is in sight, flat is sometimes hit, meaning no handholds and no way to go up. Finding a new path is sometimes the only direction left. Then again a risky move can be tried and what a sensation of exhilaration when it leads to success and pulling over the top.

Write now? I’m at that looking for a move that will pull me over the top.

So, writers–what do you do when you hit flat when the top ledge is in sight? Do you press on or look for a new route?

Posted in creativity, Nature, reflections, Uncategorized, writers, Writing and tagged , , , ,
20 May 2014
4 Comments

Bargain Bin Book Bonazas


At a local warehouse clothing sale I unexpectedly found a tier of gift books.  At a couple of dollars a piece I grabbed up a few.  It proved a difficult choice as they ranged from the secret lives of cats to how to dress cool instead of never cool (I kid you not).  There were also cutesy books like how to enjoy incense and candles.  I passed on those.  A match is all I need to understand those two.  Okay, maybe there are a couple of things I could learn, but when I came across these I couldn’t resist:

1. The Gregg Reference Manual (ninth edition) by William A. Sabin
Of course I already have my Strunk and White, How to Not Write Bad, and various college textbooks sitting on my shelf, yet who can resist a grammar handboook. I can’t. And because I don’t need it I decide to give it to my youngest progeny who admittedly wants to get his there, its, and yours figured out once and for all.

2. Leadership Courage by David Cottrell and Eric Harvey
Definitely a gift book for the youngest because he is into building up a business and is always talking about all these amazing leadership books he’s reading, so he most certainly needs another one.

3. Shakespeare’s Sonnets by William Shakespeare
For  the oldest son, I couldn’t pass up this slim volume of the Bard’s best.  I bought it because every young man who is looking for the perfect soul mate should have at least a couple of sonnets up his sleeve.  He received it graciously, if not warily. I  was amused to overhear him say the line, “Hey, I have a sonnet and I know how to use, so back off.”  I’m pretty sure he was kidding.  A loaded sonnet is nothing to mess with.  I have cautioned him on the power of verse.

4.  How to Say It Style Guide by Rosalie Maggio
Yes, another reference book. With two boyos in business they each need their handy dandy grammer guide.

 

 

Finding books on sale is always a bonus.  And being able to give them away is the best bonus.  Have any of you found any bin bonuses lately?

Oh, all images are from amazon.com.

Posted in Books, reflections, reviews, Writing and tagged , , , , , ,
14 May 2014
4 Comments

Costco: Warehouse Candy for Book Boosters


Recently we gifted the youngest progeny with a Costco membership and instead of being thrilled with loading up on cheap eats, he headed for the book aisle, practically leaving a trail of slavering as he beelined over to the miles of titles.

“Mum, look at all these!” he gushed. Looking over from my own browsing I could see him transfixed by a display of author works, the ones with the fancy covers and decorative texts.  The librarian teacher that I am can only smile and hum like llama in my happiness.  It’s so wonderful to have hatched a reader amongst the brood.* Especially since he was a late bloomer in the reading arena.

While I prefer to keep my frequent flyer status at our local library, our youngest dreams of houseplans that include a generous library. “And, of course, I will have you come organize my collection, Mum.” Aah, these are retirement plans in the making.

*the other kiddos are readers too, how could they not be with an English teacher librarian for a Mum? However, this particular kiddo gets as excited about the whole sensory aspect of reading as I do. Is there a book geek gene?

Anyone else hit the book aisle first before launching out to fill their Costco cart? Even before snarfing the vendor snackies?

Posted in America, Books, reflections and tagged , , ,
11 May 2014

Why We Say: #8 (a backstock of Bs)


Well, Well…

I haven’t run a “Why We Say” since December. Tsk. Not wanting to disappoint I will make up the lost months in a bevy of Bs. Five months equal five reasonings for “Why We Say”–

 

1. Springtime is April showers and May flowers and baseball!  It is appropriate we begin our first B with Baseball Fan. Back when newspaper ruled the news, there would be great competition for space. Naturally, if a longer word could be exchanged for a shorter one, or if a long one could be condensed, the switch was made.  Charles Haas, apparently is the reason we now refer to sports enthusiasts as “fans.”  He was credited as being the greatest baseball “fanatic,” which became shortened to “fan” once it hit the press pages.  And here I thought “fan” referred to the paper waving needed for those hot days in the stands.

 

2. “Oh quit beating around the bush, and just tell me what you think!” Have you ever been accused of holding back information? If so, this statement might be flung at you. You might not realize how foxy you’re being by holding back from your audience.  Back in the day, hunters wanting to rout foxes from their hiding spots in the bushes, would send someone to beat the bushes to scare out the tawny evaders.  Not wanting to become some ladies fur stole, the foxes would learn to keep hidden, which meant it took a long time to get a fox to pop out.  The “aha” moment with this phrase: sometimes it takes someone a long time to get to the point of the story.

 

3. Do you suffer from getting in tight spots? Do you sigh at the getting behind, just when you thought you had it all in order? Do you wish you could be a winner, instead of being a loser?  If you checked “yes” to any of these questions, you will then most certainly relate to the expression “Behind the Eight Ball.” This expression is derived from the pool game of rotation, where each ball is played except the eight ball. If the eight ball blocks your shot, you have basically lost the game.

4. “I would love to be in your shoes.” This one makes sense all on its own.  It’s simple, right?  It simply means we want to trade places.  That’s true and then some.  Let’s go back as far as 1834 in England. At that time children who were to be adopted would step into their new father’s shoes to stress the importance of the new connection and family ties.  “Shoes me, are you my new dad?”

image: 74211.com

 

5.  With spring comes summer and with summer comes weddings.  Ooh, I love a summer wedding and I am so disappointed when I don’t get to go to at least one summer nuptial exchange.  I love the chance to actually dress up, mix and mingle with old and new acquaintances, eat, drink, and be merry and best of all I enjoy watching the bride and groom exchange their commitment to one another.  I look forward to the wedding theme and the fashions.  How many bridesmaid? Will the best man be serious? Or will he pull the old “ring, what ring?” routine.  The best man is naturally the groom’s best friend or close relation, and it’s a place of honor.  This custom stems from centuries ago (primarily in Europe) most weddings took place at night (don’t know the reason on that one–research time) and it wasn’t unheard of to have the rival come swooping in an attempt to kidnap the bride. One precaution against this shocking, and irritating practice, was to have the groom’s men stand guard during the service.  The main guard would be the groom’s most trusted or best man. Tuxedos optional with swords?

 

Next month B on the lookout for some more Bewildering “Why We Says.”  Until next time…

Posted in Expressions, reflections, Words, Writing and tagged , , | Leave a comment
08 May 2014
1 Comment

Updated Momisms


Mother’s Day has taken on new meaning having become an Empty Nester. The kiddos have flown the coop, starting their own lives, and while I’m still, and will always be their Mum, I don’t expect or need a big flautin’ tootin’ acknowledgement of being their mother.  Thanks, but not needed, Hallmark.  Another calendar guilt day.  Whoa–wait–stop–I didn’t mean to go in this quasi-negative direction. Of course, getting a card or phone call or even flowers is sweet and appreciated, but everyday I’m reminded that it is so cool I’m a mom of three very lovely children who have become adult just that fast. The youngest turned 21 in March and the oldest will be turning the *yikes* 29 in June.  How’d that happen?  Wasn’t it moments ago I was telling them:

  • Hey! I’m your mother not the maid. Pick up your stuff!
  • Don’t make me come back there!
  • Just try one bite–
  • It’s your brother’s turn to pick the movie.
  • No, I don’t have money for candy.
  • You can have one–I said one.
  • Not before dinner.

Now that they are adults, I find the following conversationals happening:

  • How’s work going?
  • Is this a “friend” or a friend?
  • Do you need gas money?
  • What are you doing for the holidays?
  • Is it okay if Pops and I come over?
  • Do you want to meet at the restaurant?

Yes, I notice they tend to be questions rather than statements?  Why is that? Maybe it’s because I can’t really tell my kids to get a haircut, or that they should tidy up their apartment anymore.  But I guess I do. *Sigh* I really can’t stop being a mother so easily.  There is not switch off once the kinder become A-dults.  That Mom drive just keeps going.

So, this post is dedicated to my children.  You make Mother’s Day happen everyday–not only some designated May Sunday.

And this is why I wrote that essay that got in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Multitasking Mom’s Survival Guide. 

Now that you have all moved out and have your own lives I finally do have “A Little Piece of Quiet.”

Loves and Hugs, Mum

Chicken Soup Cover

Image: Amazon Inspiration: My Very Own Progeny (psst…story #10)

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in America, Books, celebrations, children, creativity, Family, holidays, reflections, time management, Writing and tagged , , , , ,

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