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"These lumpenproletariat class members..." Heil! Herr Burwell earns a well-deserved troll spray! You should be proud of your hard work, Burwell, but it does seem that your final solutions are getting a bit repetitive. After all, you had the same idea for people who go to bars or drink alcohol in public places. Wait--were drinkers to enroll in work camps, or just the death march and then summary execution? I forget. You should also outline your theory of the American classes more clearly for us. I have my notebook and pen all ready to take notes, Herr Doktor Burwell. :)— October 24, 2009 6:59 p.m.
Wicked Costly
re: #7: "Indisposed" = Mercy Hospital, Pike. They wanted to keep me there, but I argued my way back out, explaining that I was a fan of a certain blog, and couldn't miss out. :) Actually, I argued that I would be fired from my job if I didn't get back to the land of execrable "grammer;" I am currently hobbling back and forth between Reader and said land of grammer--can't catch up!— October 24, 2009 5:50 p.m.
Bonus Blog: Second Grade Mom
One of my aunts used to be work at a library in eastern Canada, land of long cold winters. She instituted an extensive program of reading hours at her library branch, and I think went around to other branches, too, reading aloud whatever the kids wanted. One popular book was Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/088776424X… My aunt learned from her radio-voiced father to narrate and really ham up the various characters' voices, so it is something we all learned to do--I used to read to my mother when she was sick, or just tired after a hard day--she'd roll around in bed laughing until she gasped at my ridiculously lame accents and intonations. It brings great joy to the reader and the listener, doesn't it? I've also noticed that kids are mesmerized watching an adult draw--and remember watching my mother, the artist, while on the phone, doodling a cluster of grapes or a curl of long princess hair...— October 24, 2009 5:44 p.m.
Bonus Blog: Second Grade Mom
I love this, Ms Lopez! For a while, taught third and fourth-graders at one of two private after-school schools. These kids had been in school all day long, then came to this program for instruction in Chinese mainly (parents found school in a Mandarin newspaper) but also attended "writing" classes with me. Naturally, after a long day of school, they were rowdy and silly. The school's name translated to "Learning Tree" from Mandarin, but kids, who ranged from kindergarten to high school, called it "Burning Tree." They wrote on the stark white walls and sassed back a lot. I'd daily hear a high, sharp scolding in Chinese emanating from other classrooms that seemed to work--unfort, I am not Sino-literate, and not good at yelling at kids. When organized, we read and discussed their favorite books, and did art and lit projects that they often made more complex themselves. We invented a fictional school called "Ocean View School," for which they designed and drew uniforms, voted on 'field trips,' wrote letters to the "principal" (for this character's name I used "Ms Crabapple" from the Simpsons), and wrote about what curricula should be taught at this school. I loved hearing their ideas for the latter, especially. Smart little buggers chose LOTS of humanities classes as well as sciences. Could NOT get the hang of getting class under control, but they said I was their favorite teacher--not sure if it is for good reasons or not :) At any rate, I'll never forget this little sea of glossy straight black locks and giant impish eyes... Ms Daniels, Ms Daniels! Can we read Harry Potter today? :)— October 24, 2009 4:56 p.m.
South Park Cat Tales: The Red Rover (#3)
I meant both, actually :) But looks like we can't write with sympathy, or get the box. Mica will have to continue to take his head-scarf wrapping punishments, then :)— October 24, 2009 4:40 p.m.
South Park Cat Tales: The Red Rover (#3)
So you are going to take the box? We should have a cat hat party, then. Something tells me nan might be into this idea, too :)— October 24, 2009 1:14 a.m.
None
Looks like the Reader's insidious plot this week to get us to revisit older blogs is working. ;)— October 24, 2009 1:11 a.m.
Wicked Costly
I see mention of Lacan and Claire Fisher, so I must be in heaven--though it feels more tonight like six feet under. Usually get the "main" comment in sooner, Pike--apologies, been indisposed. Will take a little time to read carefully, then be back :)— October 24, 2009 12:37 a.m.
South Park Cat Tales: The Red Rover (#3)
"Biting the food dispenser that feeds you is not WiseCat."" Exactly. Just between us (and the city of San Diego), folks, Mica is not exactly the brightest boy on the block. Shhh. I have started the blowing at his face trick, AG. The water bottle spray (they always figure out it is NOT from god) just alienates, in my experience. "23-pound, one-of-a-kind Maine Coon/Siamese mix. He was a handful." Simba was more than a handful--an armful at least! What a love. re: #13: I feel like we should write this Patty, and give her some words of encouragement. Though I forced Mica to do babushka skits, I would not try to make him wear these hats, though. Any other takers here?— October 24, 2009 12:32 a.m.
South Park Cat Tales: The Red Rover (#3)
"SD, can't believe you don't like the condescending greeting roll that cats do when you arrive home. Displaying the belly like that and looking all submissive is one of their most charming deceptions." The roll at the door greeting is lovely, and I love everything he does. It is just the biting I abhor! Mica was just biting me as we tried to have a family meeting sitting on the bed, so I had to punish him by wrapping his head in a multi-color scarf, and doing "babushka" skits. :)— October 24, 2009 12:23 a.m.