4.25.2009

i love lida

Emily and Louise went to new york(whatever that is) and got an Ariel CD.
Lida is making me listen to it all day. It is very long - I say ''no lida no'', and she says, ''yes gawwet''.

4.19.2009

unknown talents


Emily is partaking in an end-of-school sing-song play of sorts in a few weeks. She attends a non-school, home-school, school away from home... thing one day a week. Every student participates in the event, which will involve 80 hours of preparation, a decent bit of stress, and 4-5 minutes of a show... a long-standing tradition in cultures that no longer have to worry about what to eat.
We were told that she was going to sing the lead solo parts. Emily's brain is strangely attuned to the art of m
emorization, so we were not surprised by this announcement.

Maggie teaches a 2nd day at this non-school, home-school, school away from home... thing each week as well, with Emily repeating a few of the classes and spending the rest of her time playing hacky sack and smoking behind the cafeteria.
The music teacher asked Maggie the other day if Emily could sing the solo parts for that classroom as well: "She sings so beautifully. It really is a joy to hear her voice"
Silence. Initial assumption that the teacher is making fun of Emily... then slow realization that the teacher is serious, does indeed like Emily's singing voice, and wants her to perform in the other class' sing song show."Uhhmm, I suppose... do you really???... well, OK"

Those of us who live in Emily's real world are in a bit of a shock. She has been perfecting the fine art of underage-operata-star search-piercing-drawn out-shaky singing since her second birthday. Indeed, she has been punished and her voice banned from different parts of the house at various stages of her life. While excelling in the art of Volume, it has not been observed by those with ears to hear that she has been gifted by what is generally termed 'pitch' or 'tempo'.

There are two options here: Emily is either growing into a talent with the outside help of her teacher, or the non-school, home-school, school away from home... thing has a horrendous availability of talent to compete against. I will let you know in a few weeks.

4.17.2009

It's an honest question....

from Louise, as we're walking towards the checkout lane at Target:

"Why don't we ever steal?"

3.23.2009

Fifty Years of Math in the USA

1. Teaching Math In 1950s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?



2. Teaching Math In 1960s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. What is his profit?



3. Teaching Math In 1970s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80. Did he make a profit?



4. Teaching Math In 1980s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.



5. Teaching Math In 1990s

A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20. What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if you feel like crying, it is ok.)



6. Teaching Math In 2009

Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?

3.19.2009

Sleeping Arrangements and Their Downfall

I don't know how it happened, but I woke up, it was dark, and I was trapped somewhere. I started screaming, and it took forever - and I mean forever - for Mom to show up. She turned on the light and said:

"Garrett?"

"Wha?" through my much-needed tears

"Where are you?"

"Righ he-yuh." Isn't it obvious? I'm here, and I need you to help me!!

Wait, I see Mom's feet. How the crap did I get here? I wriggle out, the light hurts my eyes. My mom reads me the riot act for being under my bed in the "middle of the night", but it's not my fault. I have no idea how I ended up there.