This morning was the annual fifth grade breakfast. It’s almost like a graduation, but each student doesn’t get a diploma; it’s more of a group sendoff to middle school. I give out certificates to my library helpers for the year and the classroom teachers give out other awards.
Alice, my most devoted library helper, has health issues and must stay inside for recess. Because of this she has been extraordinarily faithful in helping with first grade classes and library tasks during that time.
Alice loves the library and library work so much that her teacher likes to say she’s my “Mini-Me.”
Intelligent, mature, well-behaved, willing to work, yet still a bit of a kid inside: Alice is that rare student that comes along only once every few years that you wish you could teach for her entire school career, guide into college, and befriend as an adult as well. Today I got to publicly thank her for her devotion to the library and coincidentally express birthday wishes at the same time.
I’ll miss her.
Another trip to the kindergarten hallway reveals they have been reading The Grouchy Ladybug. If you can translate the following kindergarten spelling, you will see it reads “I feel grouchy when I am at school.” With three student days to go, kids who are already mentally on vacation, and final grades due tomorrow, I think it’s fair to say he’s not the only one.
Every once in a while, when I’m having an off day, I like to go down to the kindergarten and first grade hallway to check out the work hanging there. Sometimes I don’t even have to know what it’s supposed to be before I start to feel better.
Eighty-six years ago today Charles Lindbergh flew the first solo Atlantic crossing from New York to Paris. Now a non-stop across the pond between JFK and Orly is as simple as $1444 on Priceline (not to mention all the add-on fees the airlines will hit you with).
If one has an extra $1444 lying about, that is.
Edited to add: Apparently I forgot to push the publish button on this last night (May 20). It was typed up and I thought I published it yesterday. Major brain fade.
One of the few things guaranteed to captivate second graders during the last few days of school (or anytime, really).
Toss in The Goat in the Rug or Rumpelstiltskin and you’ve sneaked in a real lesson painlessly touching on the clothing production process and simple machines (wheel and axle).
The book: A freebie by Alcott, although I’d never heard of it. I’ve downloaded it and will have it on my Kindle for the next time I’m in the mood for old-fashioned stories.
Sunday morning service can seem like forever when you are a four-year-old redhead with squirmy tendencies.
Today I was sitting next to LeeAnn’s youngest. He was randomly barking out numbers under the cover of one of the hymns, thinking no one could hear him. It sounded like a quarterback calling plays. Have I mentioned I adore her kids?
We managed to get in all but two stations before the thunderstorm this afternoon.
In a related item, apparently the frisbee throwing posts with circles were mistaken for a quidditch pitch. I heard one student lay claim to the position of beater on the way to the field.
Tomorrow my sister will wake up without the canine companion who graced her life for more than ten years. Lizzie was old and in pain, but it still brings tears to the eyes to think of having to say good-bye. We will miss you, Liz.
Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives. – John Galsworthy
My favorite four-year-old feeling compelled to show off her latest party trick.