...at the elementary school on the south side of town. The same two little four year olds from pre-K class who are in need of a little boost to help them with developing reading skills. One was absent, so I retrieved the second and went to sit in the lunchroom and read with her. The book is 'Silly Sally', and yes, it is sincerely silly. The little girl had been reading with other tutors for the past two days, and remembered a lot about the story, even though it is mostly illustrations/pictures with a minimum of words, lots of repetition. She was very talkative and wanted to tell me all about the book before we even sat down to get started. We read, did the little work sheet and read it again.
I thought I would be finished in record time. But when I took #1 back to her class, the second one came in, late, so we got her binder, with her very own copy of 'Silly Sally' book and read. She seems to be more hesitant, maybe just shy. But hopefully with volunteers reading a series of books five days in a row, she will catch on, with repeated exposure to the illustrations and printed words. Gradually begin to absorb the basics, with a bit of one-on-one attention. Have experience with interpreting pictures, catch on to sight words, develop needed skills and begin a love of reading, and explore the world of books. Learn what wonderful things await those who delve into literature.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
the marshmallow study...
...is something you probably read about. It came up on public radio this morning, with someone telling how children are tested by tempting them with marshmallows. (Which would be a no-brainer for me, as marshmallows are on my list of things I hope to never put in my mouth again.) Someone did a test/research project where small children are given the option of eating the marshmallow right now, or postponing the eating. If they can resist the temptation to grab and gobble, they will get two marshmallows after fifteen minutes. Some did, some didn't. Some ate it immediately, while some were able to restrain themselves long enough to double the pleasure.
You would, of course, have to know about marshmallows - and I am sure there are lots of places in the world where little people do not have the marshmallow experience. And then you would have to have the self control to be able to wait, which is generally not a strong suit for youngsters. Plus and abundance of patience. Able to sit and fidget for what would seem like forever when you were looking at the temptation, right there before your eyes and feeling like the clock was running backwards, interminable seconds slowly ticking by.
The study was mentioned in reference to how people can make financial decisions. The kids who were able to wait out the timer, and double their pleasure by receiving the second, after the allotted time were more likely to be 'savers'. Better able to discipline themselves as they mature to set funds aside for some large goal that would not be instantly available. Postponing fun today, in the effort to gain some greater desired object in the future.
This made me think about the people I raised, who are financially independent, fully functioning adults. I've had conversations recently about 'rainy day funds' and the importance of setting aside a portion of income to invest/grow/accumulate interest over time. Hopefully to start now, with the idea of interest making interest, compounding over time to create a decent nest egg for retirement years. Much of the investment advice for those of middle age or later is directed at looking out for oneself, rather than being pressured into supporting the next generation. So the 'interest' you take in savings or investing should be focused on assuring the next generation you will not be dependent on them.
Years and generations ago, it was not uncommon for homes to be multi-generational within one dwelling, with grandparents, aunts/uncles/extended family to live under the same roof as a younger couple with children. Not always the perfect situation, but often a necessity. I've let my family know of a long term health care plan that will cover aging issues should I not be able to live independently. We all hope that never happens, but like a Good Scout: better to Be Prepared.
You would, of course, have to know about marshmallows - and I am sure there are lots of places in the world where little people do not have the marshmallow experience. And then you would have to have the self control to be able to wait, which is generally not a strong suit for youngsters. Plus and abundance of patience. Able to sit and fidget for what would seem like forever when you were looking at the temptation, right there before your eyes and feeling like the clock was running backwards, interminable seconds slowly ticking by.
The study was mentioned in reference to how people can make financial decisions. The kids who were able to wait out the timer, and double their pleasure by receiving the second, after the allotted time were more likely to be 'savers'. Better able to discipline themselves as they mature to set funds aside for some large goal that would not be instantly available. Postponing fun today, in the effort to gain some greater desired object in the future.
This made me think about the people I raised, who are financially independent, fully functioning adults. I've had conversations recently about 'rainy day funds' and the importance of setting aside a portion of income to invest/grow/accumulate interest over time. Hopefully to start now, with the idea of interest making interest, compounding over time to create a decent nest egg for retirement years. Much of the investment advice for those of middle age or later is directed at looking out for oneself, rather than being pressured into supporting the next generation. So the 'interest' you take in savings or investing should be focused on assuring the next generation you will not be dependent on them.
Years and generations ago, it was not uncommon for homes to be multi-generational within one dwelling, with grandparents, aunts/uncles/extended family to live under the same roof as a younger couple with children. Not always the perfect situation, but often a necessity. I've let my family know of a long term health care plan that will cover aging issues should I not be able to live independently. We all hope that never happens, but like a Good Scout: better to Be Prepared.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
drivin' in the rain...
...on Friday morning. Leaving home about 5 a.m., hoping to get around the edge of Atlanta before traffic got bad, but after it got light enough to see and be on the defensive. As well as noting the appropriate signs and exit to get off the chaotic perimeter highway head north to TN.
To spend the weekend with some of my fave-o-rite people who live at the base of Lookout Mountain in the little community of St. Elmo. Along with the barking-est dog in the world, a schizoid cat and rabbits in a back yard hutch. The baby bunnies have gotten old/big enough to look like rabbits, instead of naked little things you don't want to touch - so we spent some time petting and handling to try to domesticate. They hide their little faces, squinch up their little pink eyes, flatten their little grey ears in an effort to become invisible. Apparently not realizing their fur is bed-sheet white, and hoping to disappear from sight: if they can't see you, a large toothy predator,you cannot see them.
We went out to eat at a local restaurant: very noisy, good food (though I only ordered a dinner salad and a dish of mac-n-cheese) and good company. Met the in-laws who were celebrating their wedding anniversary. And found themselves thoroughly amused by the fact that they bought each other identical 'happy anniversary' cards. Now we can start wondering how much longer before they start looking alike? Becoming mirror images/identical twins.
To spend the weekend with some of my fave-o-rite people who live at the base of Lookout Mountain in the little community of St. Elmo. Along with the barking-est dog in the world, a schizoid cat and rabbits in a back yard hutch. The baby bunnies have gotten old/big enough to look like rabbits, instead of naked little things you don't want to touch - so we spent some time petting and handling to try to domesticate. They hide their little faces, squinch up their little pink eyes, flatten their little grey ears in an effort to become invisible. Apparently not realizing their fur is bed-sheet white, and hoping to disappear from sight: if they can't see you, a large toothy predator,you cannot see them.
We went out to eat at a local restaurant: very noisy, good food (though I only ordered a dinner salad and a dish of mac-n-cheese) and good company. Met the in-laws who were celebrating their wedding anniversary. And found themselves thoroughly amused by the fact that they bought each other identical 'happy anniversary' cards. Now we can start wondering how much longer before they start looking alike? Becoming mirror images/identical twins.
my mom would say:
..." a day late and a dollar short". She would also say: "the rich gets richer and the poor gets chillun' (children, ie: more mouths to feed)", which could likely be a subset of Murphy's Law. Meaning that people who are blessed with good fortune continue to come up smelling like roses and those who seem to struggle with finding the right/simple/easy path in life always encounter road blocks and detours/diversions that result in poorly thought-out choices.
The reference to' a day late and a dollar short' is due to my not writing anything on yesterday/Friday. When I had all day to ponder and type the perfect thing to say:
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Abby.
Abby who?
Abby Birthday to You.
The reference to' a day late and a dollar short' is due to my not writing anything on yesterday/Friday. When I had all day to ponder and type the perfect thing to say:
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Abby.
Abby who?
Abby Birthday to You.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
literacy tutoring...
..yesterday morning at an elementary school across town. I'd signed up, but not sure about the day. Had to go to an introduction/training last week, and discover I am on the list to be a tutor on Wed. So I took a long 'lunch break' from work to go 'way across town and spent more time going and coming than actually being there. Worked with two little four year olds, about twenty minutes with each and read the book "Have You Seen My Duckling?" which is mostly illustrations, with a few words for them to begin to recognize. A cute sweet story, about a little duck who leaves the nest chasing a butterfly. More picture reading, interpreting the illustrations than actual words. And repetitive, for them to begin the process of recognizing simple sight words.
One of the little people could not really count to eight (the number of ducks in the nest) or write her name, but the other seemed to be much better with basic skills. We read the book, talked about the pictures and counted the ducklings on each page, searching for the missing one that was semi-hidden in the illustrations. I am amazed to think that there are four year olds who do not have anyone in their lives who reads to them. Sad to think they have not experienced books. Saddened even more to think there are so many who will not ever learn to read, never go to school, have to opportunity of being literate and the resulting liberation that learning to decipher those strung together letters brings. Hard to imagine not having that ability.
So today: we can all be thankful for the people who taught us how to read, the community of book lovers who shared that love with us Taking us by the hand, leading us gently through the door into the world of being literate, and loving literature: books, magazines, writing, reading, postcards, stationary, postage stamps.Can you imagine what your life would be like if you could not decipher the confusing letters found on the cereal box or street signs?
One of the little people could not really count to eight (the number of ducks in the nest) or write her name, but the other seemed to be much better with basic skills. We read the book, talked about the pictures and counted the ducklings on each page, searching for the missing one that was semi-hidden in the illustrations. I am amazed to think that there are four year olds who do not have anyone in their lives who reads to them. Sad to think they have not experienced books. Saddened even more to think there are so many who will not ever learn to read, never go to school, have to opportunity of being literate and the resulting liberation that learning to decipher those strung together letters brings. Hard to imagine not having that ability.
So today: we can all be thankful for the people who taught us how to read, the community of book lovers who shared that love with us Taking us by the hand, leading us gently through the door into the world of being literate, and loving literature: books, magazines, writing, reading, postcards, stationary, postage stamps.Can you imagine what your life would be like if you could not decipher the confusing letters found on the cereal box or street signs?
Monday, September 21, 2015
ant invasion...
...possibly partially my fault: due to stirring them up yesterday. I went out in the late afternoon to water things that were looking desperately limp and thirsty - you could almost hear them panting for a drink. When moving the hose as I walked around the perimeter of the beds, I pulled it up and dislodged lots of highly agitated ants. Probably the mean, vicious, biting variety.
I've started to water, after letting nature do the work, as things have gotten dry in recent weeks. Remembering years ago, this was the rainy season, Dog Days, when as I child, it rained every day for weeks on end. Plus possible hurricanes blowing in from the Gulf of Mexico across the Florida panhandle. But since humans in our blissful self-centeredness have tilted the balance of the environment, no longer wet, steamy sticky summers awash with daily rain showers across GA.
When I walked into the kitchen before first light this morning, I saw at least ten thousand busy ants, swarming across the floor, up the cupboard wall and across the counter top. Having a feast on a dirty plate 'Someone' left sitting out overnight. Proving that Nature wins in the end? I am generally reluctant to spray bug killer in the house, mostly due to the greasy residue it leaves wherever you point the aerosol can.
So I went out to get the plastic bottle of Fire Ant Poison and sprinkled ant killer powder all along the trail they were industriously making under the door and across the porch. Sprinkling all around the plate and watching them scatter in distress. Went out in the yard to put some down where they were nesting and disturbed when the hose got moved. And hope the invasion has been halted.
But the powder is 'slippery as owl s**t', and now the floor needs to be mopped. I've cleaned it off the counter top. But left the used plate full of ants and white poison for the person who chose to deposit it on the counter top immediately above the dish-washing machine, instead of putting it in. I'd actually set myself the goal of getting the kitchen floor cleaned this morning before I have to leave for work at 11:00. But there is, of course, a big difference in doing something because you want to as opposed to Doing It Because You Have To.
PS: I do not like to clean up after other people. If WE ALL did it, cleaned up after our dirty, sloppy, lazy, sorry selves - there would not be a mess left for someone else to have to take care of. From trash, cups, butts, cans tossed out the car window, to empty plastic water bottles dropped on the school playground, to waxed squares of paper given with free cookies at the bakery and casually discarded on the floor of the store, to old tires and appliances disposed of in the ditch, woods or river. Your mama does not work here.
I've started to water, after letting nature do the work, as things have gotten dry in recent weeks. Remembering years ago, this was the rainy season, Dog Days, when as I child, it rained every day for weeks on end. Plus possible hurricanes blowing in from the Gulf of Mexico across the Florida panhandle. But since humans in our blissful self-centeredness have tilted the balance of the environment, no longer wet, steamy sticky summers awash with daily rain showers across GA.
When I walked into the kitchen before first light this morning, I saw at least ten thousand busy ants, swarming across the floor, up the cupboard wall and across the counter top. Having a feast on a dirty plate 'Someone' left sitting out overnight. Proving that Nature wins in the end? I am generally reluctant to spray bug killer in the house, mostly due to the greasy residue it leaves wherever you point the aerosol can.
So I went out to get the plastic bottle of Fire Ant Poison and sprinkled ant killer powder all along the trail they were industriously making under the door and across the porch. Sprinkling all around the plate and watching them scatter in distress. Went out in the yard to put some down where they were nesting and disturbed when the hose got moved. And hope the invasion has been halted.
But the powder is 'slippery as owl s**t', and now the floor needs to be mopped. I've cleaned it off the counter top. But left the used plate full of ants and white poison for the person who chose to deposit it on the counter top immediately above the dish-washing machine, instead of putting it in. I'd actually set myself the goal of getting the kitchen floor cleaned this morning before I have to leave for work at 11:00. But there is, of course, a big difference in doing something because you want to as opposed to Doing It Because You Have To.
PS: I do not like to clean up after other people. If WE ALL did it, cleaned up after our dirty, sloppy, lazy, sorry selves - there would not be a mess left for someone else to have to take care of. From trash, cups, butts, cans tossed out the car window, to empty plastic water bottles dropped on the school playground, to waxed squares of paper given with free cookies at the bakery and casually discarded on the floor of the store, to old tires and appliances disposed of in the ditch, woods or river. Your mama does not work here.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
it was a looonnng day...
...going in to work at 6:00 a.m. and leaving just after 5:00 p.m. But not quite as bad as it sounds, since there
was a two hour break when I went to church. And also not so bad as it would have been had I spent the whole day doing produce prep.
Co-worker who usually mans the floral department is out of town for several days so I was doing that. Putting out fresh cut flowers, that come tightly packed in bunches, in flat boxes, shipped from growers in south America. They need to have stems cut, and placed in buckets of fresh water to drink and revive/freshen upon arrival. Plus watering lots of plants that looked desperately dry and thirsty. And making some cut arrangements to go in reach in cooler for cash/carry sales.
So it was not such a bad day, as I was able to putter in the flowers and spend about half the day doing something I really enjoy. And take a long two hour break to go to church: that rarely happens due to either travel or work schedule I'd asked the dept.manager about coming in early, since I know he always makes a point of going with his family on Sunday mornings. He knows I will get my work done before leaving, so it's not a problem.
But after nine hours of standing on that hard floor on my poor tired feets, I was worn out. Plus in an effort to be completely honest, I will admit all I had to eat during that time was two Snicker bars. Nothing 'well balanced' about that!
was a two hour break when I went to church. And also not so bad as it would have been had I spent the whole day doing produce prep.
Co-worker who usually mans the floral department is out of town for several days so I was doing that. Putting out fresh cut flowers, that come tightly packed in bunches, in flat boxes, shipped from growers in south America. They need to have stems cut, and placed in buckets of fresh water to drink and revive/freshen upon arrival. Plus watering lots of plants that looked desperately dry and thirsty. And making some cut arrangements to go in reach in cooler for cash/carry sales.
So it was not such a bad day, as I was able to putter in the flowers and spend about half the day doing something I really enjoy. And take a long two hour break to go to church: that rarely happens due to either travel or work schedule I'd asked the dept.manager about coming in early, since I know he always makes a point of going with his family on Sunday mornings. He knows I will get my work done before leaving, so it's not a problem.
But after nine hours of standing on that hard floor on my poor tired feets, I was worn out. Plus in an effort to be completely honest, I will admit all I had to eat during that time was two Snicker bars. Nothing 'well balanced' about that!
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