rockING it in Maryland

So, as some of you know, last weekend it was once again time for the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Just like last year, it was awesome. Maybe better, now that I've been there once and had more "focused" approach.


Some of my favorite moments:

Dave's cousin took this picture claiming it was me "picking up men" at the sheep and wool festival, and I have to agree that it looks incriminating...however, what was really happening, was that he was explaining to me about some of the fleeces as well as telling me about his flock of sheep (and I mean that literally). Last year, I had a long conversation with another old man. This is becoming a part of the tradition. Old people are awesome.

This is a picture from the sheep dog demonstration. I didn't take the time to sit through this last year, but I'm so glad I did this year. It was absolutely amazing to see what the dogs were capable of and how much they loved it. It made me want sheep and dogs (maybe I'll buy them next year at Maryland....Right Dave??? Right?)

This (not this exact one) was my big purchase this year. A drop spindle! I'm spinning now. I would have loved to buy a wheel, but that's like a $300-$500 investment so.... I'm saving for next year. In the mean time, I'm spinning using a primitive, but very cool method. I love it. I love the history. Women in ancient Greece (and a ton of other places) used drop spindles to spin fiber to make clothing and other items, while watching sheep. After reading about some of the history of fiber, I love it even more.

Along with the festival, we spent a day in DC. I was total nerd the whole time as demonstrated below:

Me, as a squinty-eyed, smiling tourist in front of the White House. I fit right in with all the eighth graders. Obama wasn't home, I was secretly hoping he would be there, invite me in, and we would talk about education and basically become good friends, and he would totally invite me back to talk to congress about education and I would basically change the whole world.....a girl can dream can't she?

Instead, I just became more of a cheesy tourist and got my picture in a fake Oval Office in the gift shop. I hate how excited I look in this picture...I was taking this way too seriously. I was the only non-child or non visitor from another country in line for these pictures...yes, that's plural, I have set of 5 pictures of me looking "presidential". It's ridiculous.

So, that was Maryland. I totally feel like a narcissist posting all these pictures of myself, which is why I don't normally do this. That's probably why its better to wait until you have kids to have a blog, at least I could post pictures of them doing stuff, instead of nerdy pictures of myself.*

Also, it's worth mentioning, while riding in the car we had a book of White House trivia. Through out the course of our Q and A session, I discovered Lou Hoover was the most kick ass first lady ever. You should look her up. I'm pretty sure the Depression would have ended way sooner had she been running the country instead of dumb old Herb. Seriously, look her up.

*Mother, this in no way means I am planning on having children at this time...

listenING

It’s funny, how baseball's always been a man’s game.

It fits so well into a woman’s schedule.

It come's in with spring.

 The small radio on top of the fridge,

belts out the game all afternoon,

between ads, and static.

 A pop-fly during the dishes,

a 6-4-3 double when the towels are folded.

You stop for lunch, and the crowd roars over a four-bagger, putting Cleveland in the lead.

It’s April, clothes waving on the line, as history is made, the longest opener ever.

16 Innings.

Night games are the most exciting, at the end of some scorching summer day

and you sit,

The porch swing, powered by the gentle movement of your legs,

fighting off the day’s fatigue, as Detroit takes the Central Division.

It’s funny, this man’s game,

America’s pastime.

but it’s us who listen, and hear it.

It's rhythm, in sync with our own.

No running clock, the work is over, when it’s done.

Image Credit: Google Image

readING rundown

Three books, two I've finished, one I've almost finished. The first two, I have to tell you, were recommended to me by a couple 7th graders. For a teaching lit class I'm in we had literature pen pals from a Cleveland school district. I was so surprised by how much I loved the books. We should take recommendations from 12 years olds more often.

Unwind, by Neal Shusterman. This book was suspenseful and I finished it quickly. It's perfect for a middle school classroom (okay, okay, and for adults....if you liked the Hunger Games, you will like this...I promise). It deals with 3 "misfits" scheduled to be "unwound". I feel I would give too much away if I told you what "unwinding" is...but trust me...its not good. I also would love to use it in Social Studies as it deals with personal freedoms and even the sanctity of life. Pretty jammed packed for a book for middle schoolers.

This book creeped. me. out. I am not normally a ghost story reader, but this was the book one of my pen pals picked out so I read it. It was surprisingly great! It was a fast read and I was actually touched by its ending. I was amazed at the simple way the author communicates the grieving process and the idea of letting go.

I've been tyring to read more young adult lit anyway. I love being able to recommend books to students, and honestly the best way I've found to be able to do that, is to read more.

This last book I started reading for a project I'm doing on the effects and uses of technology in the classroom. (Sorry everything I think, read, write, and talk about these days is teaching...its sorta my world right now). This book confirmed a lot of my thoughts on technology and changed some of them. While I think sometimes her views are a little extreme, it definitely made me think about making sure technology is in its proper place in my own life, and even my classroom. I'm almost finished with this and can't wait to hear her thoughts. To me, the book is a little longer than I think was necessary, but at the same time she makes some excellent points. It's worth the length.

I have a few books I'm reading now and that are in my reading queue... :) I've finally started The Book Whisperer that I mentioned in my last reading rundown. It's wonderful so far! I can't even tell you how much her writing about reading resonates with me. Its beautiful and makes me so excited to teach.

Easter mornING

So, I may have failed at this poem everyday thing (that was sort of inevitable). The good news is, it has accomplished the goal of reviving creativity. It has made me think about poetry and writing, which is what I really wanted anyway. 

This year, due to scheduling mostly, we didn't go to our regular church for Easter. We went to a sunrise service that was held on the Moravian settlement of Schoenbrunn Village . This was my first sunrise service ever. It was so surprisingly beautiful to me. It was the simplicity and quietness of it all that was so moving to me.  Normally, I love what our own church does but,  being outside, with no lighting or bands, or shows was a refreshing change of pace for me. I honestly don't know what I think of this...it's still a work in progress.

__________

This year it came without billboards, without signs.

It came without announcement, much like it really would have back then, I guess.

When it came, we gathered,

 at dawn,

ragtagged.

Dressed not in the normal frill fit for the day,

but still in the drab and heaviness of winter,

to ward off what remained of it’s chill

on that early spring morning.

Thankful for scarves and old mittens,

boots, and wool coats meant for hunting, or farming.

The mismatched lot of us, huddled to say together,

“This we believe, this we truly believe,”

Under an ancient oak,
as old as the ground we stood on, as time-worn as our words.

“This we believe, this we truly believe”.

Quiet, we stood,

and listened, as The Story was read to the music of our own breath,

 in

and out.

“This we believe, this we truly believe.”

It’s words rang out clean and clear and confident,

standing still

but stirring our souls until we joined the song together,

“This we believe, this we truly believe.”

Moving from the silent sacred to our own resurrected joy, as we sang the old hymns, chanting together.

“This we believe. This we truly believe!”

Like it once was,

centuries ago, as they sang these same words, on this same solemn ground,

huddled in their own wool coats, to celebrate their own winter’s end, their own new Life,

and This,

“This we believe. This we truly believe.”

It came this year, quiet and rising.

Without programs, without sound systems, without lighting or rehearsal.

Without any real warning.

It came this year, full of subtle but expectant hope.

This we believe, this we truly believe.

revivING creativity

April is National Poetry Month. For me, it could also very accurately be named national (or just Harding household) procrastination month. I have several final projects I should be working on, emails to type regarding end of the school year events, and my Praxis II I could be studying for...yet, here I am. This happens every year at this time. There is just something about April that makes me run from school work like it's a serial killer. (Although, let's be honest, it sort of is one, in  a slow torturous sort of way...)

In the spirit of procrastination and hopefully more so, poetry, I have decided to try and write or at least post a poem everyday. This is honestly more for myself then it is for anyone else (you may now bow out gracefully if you hate poetry). I love to write and don't make time for it, and I feel I am giving my procrastination a positive outlet, making it into more of an "alternate productivity" than procrastination. Right??? It can be anything, a freestyle, sonnet, even a haiku. Just something. This could blow up in my face. This could really just be a month of awful poetry. 

I know that I probably won't post everyday. I say post instead of write because I'm not sure if forcing myself to write a poem everyday is conducive to good poetry or not. That really is a question more than a statement. So, on some days, I may just find a poem by a favorite poet and post it here. All in all, I'm hoping for this to be a revival of creativity for me.

procrastination,

one test, a paper to write,

so I'll clean the house.

p.s.---This isn't starting out well. I just stared for forty minutes. Wrote a whole poem about morning I'd been thinking about lately anyway, hated it, tried to post poem by a favorite poet but it didn't seem to "fit". So, I gave up and wrote that dumb haiku. I'm trying too hard.

readING rundown

I don't do reading posts as often as I'd like or as often as I finish books. I want to get better at this. As a future language arts teacher, I feel it is part of who I am and what I do to get people (students, adults, anyone really) excited about books. Here's two I've read, one I'd like to, and one I just heard about.

This book was beautiful. I didn't expect myself to love a book that is narrated by a dog--but I did. The perspective of Enzo as he recounts his life with the Swift family is one that made me laugh and cry. It was so very moving (again, I was surprised that a book about a dog could do this). It deals with love, and loss, and unfairness, and redemption. I just loved this book.

This book refilled my "hope tank" like no other book has in a long time. I swear it made me a better person to read it. Amber Appleton is a teen whose life is anything but fair, but seeing how she copes and comes through grief is so hopeful and reviving. I also loved her perspective on her faith.  She has a very raw and unrefined faith that I wish we all had. This book  restored my hope in goodness.  I think it's one of those books that I'll come back to when I need an extra shot of optimism.

I haven't read this book yet. It's on my list. It was recommended to me by one of my professors but it's not a "professory" book if you know what I mean. It's written by a reading teacher. She speaks on the ways that she gets students to not just read, but to love it--which is what I hope to do someday. I can't wait to read this.

I honestly can't remember how I even found out about this book, but I'm glad I did. It's about a girl from the city who finds an ordinary box of yarn that turns out to be not so ordinary. I love children's books and I love knitting so this is perfect. The little "snippet" I've seen on Amazon looks so lovely. The illustrations are wonderful. Can't wait to own it. :)

Happy Reading Everyone!

skatING in circles by yourself

I will never forget my tenth birthday. I had a skating party. All of my friends came, there was cake, music, presents, everything a ten year old Ali could have wanted. There was just one thing about it though--I was the only one who skated (at least to the best of my memory). By myself, I circled and circled the rink. I requested songs, I had a blast. Knowing my competitive self, I probably timed myself to see if it could get better. Now, I did take the time to spend with my guests thanking them for coming, eating cake, laughing, hanging out etc., but I alone skated, probably wearing some nerdy shirt that had something about NASA or the planets or something like that on it. I had my weird short haircut that made my head look like a mushroom, but I didn't care, I just skated.

When I look back at that memory I have two initial reactions. The first is that I sort of  want to recognize that memory as sad. How did I not realize how "uncool" I was? Were all my friends just pitying me by being there? Oh my gosh, I was such an nerd and didn't even know it. The worst kind! I almost get embarrassed over my ten year old self. No wonder I was  never a "cool kid." It can kind of be a painful moment to look back on.

Then I think about it for a second longer, and I laugh and I'm honestly proud. The thing is, when I look back at that memory, I wasn't embarrassed at all. It didn't occur to me on February 20,  1995 that nobody else skated. It didn't occur to me that I was skating in circles by myself. I just had a blast. The DJ played the music and I just went for it. I skated forward and backward, and did the scissors, and tried to go faster and faster each time around.  I would say I was brave, but to be honest, I don't remember it being something I was afraid to do, I just did it because it was fun and I wanted to.

Now, why am I telling you about my tenth birthday??? Lately, there have been these moments where I've felt like I'm skating in circles by myself. I've had moments where I didn't even know I was alone in what I was doing, and I looked back and realized no one was joining me. This feeling has come up with my job, with some friendships, just everywhere lately. I felt like maybe I was still that 10 year old skating in a circle by myself not going anywhere, looking uncool.

Then I rethought it again. I realized that sometimes in order to really live, you just have to skate in a circle by yourself, because it is fun. The truth is, everyone else usually wishes they could go out there and skate. After all, how is not fun to listen to "Ghostbusters" and feel the air flutter through your mushroom haircut,  as you zoom around on a bright orange floor while the lights from the disco ball swirl around you??? I mean, come on.  Everybody is just too afraid and fear makes us miss out. We sit and we think of a million reasons why we shouldn't be out there. We think about our ability or lack thereof, we think about how dumb we might look or how uncool it is (adults worry about coolness just as much if not more than Jr. higher's I've noticed).

Life sometimes, is trying to rip the hope right from us--through criticism, through painful experiences, through disappointment, but I've realized that that's the fight. The battle is to hold on to hope, simply because its worth it. Sometimes in order to do that it takes skating in a circle by yourself. It even takes grit. Not the kind that makes you calloused, but the kind that can still love even when things feel unlovely. The kind that believes in other people (or even yourself) even when it seems like there is no reason to. It takes laughing and smiling and rejoicing even when no one else seems to care to join you. The hope is that maybe they will join you, maybe they will feel less alone, less afraid, if they just get out there.

Maybe this still seems sad, but I don't think it is. It's freedom. I hope that I can always look back at 10 year old me and have the courage to rejoice and to hope, and to just be me really; I hope that you can be you too.

" Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place." --Unknown

"No child on earth was ever meant to be ordinary, and you can see it in them, and they know it, too, but then the times get to them and they wear out their brains learning what folks expect." --Annie Dillard