Torah Study

When you do the mitzvot, you become the mitzvot. You and it. Inexplicably tied.

Meetings and Tears

I am exhausted. I am tired of meetings with tears. I do not wish to harm people. I want children to be bathed, fed, supported with their homework. I want children to arrive on time. I want parents to see when their child is sad, falling apart, victimized.

I am weary of meetings and tears.

DAYS TO 50: 385

The Narrator in my Head

Do you have a narrator in your head constantly interrupting your reading? I am finding this an increasingly interesting and slightly annoying trend in my life. perhaps it is the books I am reading, or my purposes. Right now I am finishing BROTHERS KARAMARZOV for my book club and reading several children's books to pace with my various class groups.

Hmmm...that's IT.

I need to read for no purpose. For pleasure. FOR FUN.

Ah ha.

DAYS TO 50: 386

What is playing in my mind...time in a bottle

Written by: Jim Croce

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with

DAYS TO 50: 387

The pleasure of planning

Twice a week I meet with fellow teachers in the same grade - Tuesday with 4th; Thursday with 5th - and we plan. Perhaps one of my not-so-secret pleasures. Truly. I love the process, everything from generating ideas and looking at the large picture, logical sequence of things through the filling in of the little boxes in my green plan book.

Planning. So satisfying.

Ordering a chaotic universe. Questions asked and answered? What are the next steps? How did the fare with the previous week's plan? Did they grasp magnetism? The apostrophe? The Boston Tea Party? heady stuff.

And then their are the methods of recording your thoughts. The style of planner one uses. I like a plastic covered item that also houses my grade book. This all-in-one baby is durable. I have, however, added features. Tabs, a notes section, the standards. I use an elaborate system of paper clips to help me flip back and forth from 4th grade, 5th, grades, plans, staff notes.

All of this gives me a sense of control. It may be a false sense, but I realize that plan book makes me secure. I think it is another shroud, like the Rebozo...and my Venetian glasses.

DAYS TO 50: 388

The Rebozo - the best garment on the planet

It is just another San Francisco February day, which is to say fog followed by sun, chance of rain, mist, moment of heat, which is to say anything might/will/is likely to/happen.

Thus I offer the Rebozo, the classic Mexican shawl. A long (6 feet x 2 feet) scarf or sorts. Tightly woven cotton. Often Black and white, but other colors are created. Fringed beautifully. Durable, stain forgiving, lovely.

In Mexico, women use the Rebozo as a shawl, child carrier and food basket. An elderly woman would never be seen without one, and she likely create that which she is wearing. A sort of body armor.

I have owned a Rebozo for about 10 years. My first coming from a 1998 trip to Mexico when we spent a week on Porta Vallarta having scored someone's lovely condo at a Buena Vista auction. $300 for 7 nights over Thanksgiving. Terrific. I purchased the classic garment in the "mercado" and immediately felt its appeal. I used it as a shawl on breezy nights, wrapped it around my hips over my swimsuit, plopped it on the beach as an impromptu towel. It was so, well, useful!

Over the years, I have collected and purchased Rebozos for family and friends. Lovely green, black and white ones for Katherine (for her eyes) and Mary (her favorite color), purples and plums for my sisters-in-law, blues for my mother and mother-in-law.

Even now, curled on my couch in the early morning light, I am snug in my Rebozo. Later today, I will wrap it around my neck to ward off the rain, and later cover my head to protect from rain sprinkles. My shawl, my coat, my towel, my decoration. Not to be macabre, but perhaps my shroud? Well, I would be cozy and comfortable. So why not?

DAYS TO 50: 389

Joining the Gym for the Umpteenth Time

Well, I finally did it...AGAIN. I joined a gym.

This refers back to the exercise part of the BLOG DAY #1. I always worry I am wasting money. I probably am, but I'm trying. This time it is UCSF. We liked Golden Gateway but it was SO pricey ($330 for three of us) This is $75 for me, and I can add Elle for $20 a month. Nearly all the same facilities minus the outdoor spa :(

I also signed up for trainer time. Hopefully this is all leading to a better, fitter, happier me.

I recognize that the general lack of physical drive I have hinders me. I just don't love exercising. Never had. I know I need it and have joined gyms, taken classes, bought machines all my life. It just never quite takes. Perhaps I just need to run from thing to thing forever. Perhaps if I RUN, it will be okay.

I will, as it were, keep you posted.

DAYS TO 50: 390

Going to My Own Roasting

Today I must attend the SSC (School Site Council) Summit for SFUSD. This is where schools learn their budgets for the year. Accordingly, California has now so seriously screwed up state funding that we will be ranked last, LAST nationally in spending. A reminder - that means Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, etc. are out spending us per pupil. New York and New Jersey spend over $16,000 per child. California spends less than $5000.

My attendance today is geared at how to keep "quality" up while taking a 25% cut.

And how will you do your work missing a hand or foot?

DAYS TO 50: 391

An Honor To Observe

Today, as my fifth graders practiced their shadow puppet version of THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH, I saw art making happening. They argued (politely) plot, methods of demonstrating something, best dialogue. What should be a puppet versus what should be human. Two weeks ago ten children were running the show. Now 20-25 are making it. They gain power. Today, new voices entered the mix.

They are making something. Nothing is better. Nothing.

I am grateful for the collaboration and patience of Leonidas Kassipedes, a talented teacher and artist.

DAYS TO 50: 392

Yoga

Standing still. Allign. Feet to knees to head. Feel the lifting. Raise arms upward. Hands in front of heart. Reverence. Full extension as arms rise up. Stretch. Swoop over. Feel spine. Plant hands. Spread fingers. Ease to the floor. Arch. Plunge up. Elongate. Balance for and aft.

Child's pose. True rest.

DAYS TO 50: 393

Her Birth

It was a strange thing. THe pacing, or not. Her birth was representative of her life.

42 hours of moderate labor. Not much accomplished, seemingly, but preparation nonetheless. Subtle. Percolating.

The labor had dragged on. The doctors left the room. Alone. One 10 minute contraction. Then two pushes and here.

So like the daily routine. "Elle, time to get up." "5 more minutes." "Elle..." A flurry of covers, movement, alive.

DAYS TO 50: 392

Making Art

Today I had a vision of a piece of art. Part timeline. Part blood splatterings-type paint. Old photos. The skin of an onion. All to represent THE BROTHERS KARMARZOV.

I've never done this, but today is the day.

DAYS TO 50: 395

Every atom hurts

I took a yoga class yesterday as a part of my struggle to find a meaningful exercise routine. Stretching, balance, breathing meditation - all good things for turning 50, right?

Today, every particle is sore. I better try again today, or maybe tomorrow.

DAYS TO 50: 380

Valentine's Day

The heart. It is a complex organ the swirls millions of miles of blood through us each day.

The heart. It is in constant demand if you work with or are raising children.

The heart. It is needed to sustain a long-term relationship, flowing in and out of love, peace, agreement, excitement.

The heart. It is needed to be part of the creation part of humanity.

The heart. It is complex, needed, demanding, a part of it all.

DAYS TO 50: 396.

When the party did work

It all started out just fine. The party. My daughter and three friends came home and set-up. I had bought tons of food the night before. They dipped strawberries, made brownies. We were to be down stairs, watching the Olympics, being invisible.

7PM - a handful arrive. It seems fine.

But by 9 no one else had come.

Tears, what happened? Did people think it was Friday? Where is your phone? MIA. More tears. Folks leave. She is on the bathroom floor crying.

Every step forward, every attempt to create a stable situation seems on the edge. Again. Parenting is hard. Being 15 is hard. How t keep it all at peace!

SATURDAY: She hadn't posted the address on her e-vite. The kids who showed knew where we lived.

DAYS TO 50: 398

Creating Art

Today, just as another part of my job, I am creating art. I children's play to be exact. Based on the Phantom Toll Booth. It is fun work, truly. Here is a sample:

ACT I

Narrator: I want to introduce you to a strange boy. Milo. Milo is a boy who does not know what to do with himself. He is bored by practically everything in his life. Milo especially dislikes his schoolwork. He thinks that learning is "the greatest waste of time of all."

Milo: I am SO bored. Bored, bored, bored.

Narrator: One day, Milo goes into his bedroom to find a strange package addressed to "MILO, WHO HAS PLENTY OF TIME."

Milo : It is not my birthday, or Christmas.

Box: Open me. Open me.

Narrator: Deciding that there is no way he can return the box, he opens it. Inside he finds a tollbooth

Box: What’s a toll booth?

Narrator: You know, a place you go through to get some other place.

Box: Ohhhhhhh.

Narrator: So he builds the toll booth, gets in his toy car, looks at the map to THE LANDS OF BEYOND.

Milo: Where to that isn’t boring…..hmmm……the city of Dictionopolis….well that sounds pretty good!

SOUNDS GOOD and 5th grade-y, right?

DAYS TO 50: 398

The Search for the Perfect River House

I am searching for the perfect river house a the Russian River. We have rented enough that I know such a thing exists. I don't want to compromise and I don't to pay a fortune....

The perfect river house has:

1. a lovely river view. I go to stare and meditate on life by looking at water.
2. a deck - for sunning and contemplating (see no. 1)
3. river access, direct is best, walking down and just jumping in - the best!
4. a hot tub for warming up, relaxing muscles, just soaking.
5. dog friendly - if Toby can't go. I won't go!
6. Nice interior - nothing tacky or horrible. This is a vacation!
7. Walking distance to a town. Preferably Guerneville or Monte Rio.

Ah, the perfect River house!

DAYS TO 50: 399

River versus the Sea

My husband has always had it. That balanced life - home, food, exercise, work. He gets in 3 90 minute workout most weeks. He leaves work between 5 and 5:30. He eats the right amount of everything.

I, n the other hand, and more extremely. I binge - exercise, food, love, work. And then I starve...except for the food part, but even that, at times.

His life is steady. My is waves, swells. He is a river - grand, steady, flowing ever forward, powerful, peaceful. I am the ocean - salty, sweet, foaming, crashing, mavericks and rogue waves, dashing, shimmering.

DAYS TO 50: 400

Being the Heavy - a frequent state at 50.

Some days you are the heavy: 1. you need to take 3 not 4 classes next quarter, 2. I will not sign a slip of paper so you can "ink" yourself. 3. THAT does not count as a paragraph. 4. Put a sweater on if you are cold. 5. Please turn the heat off that before it becomes my next pair of shoes. 6. I will be home during your party. 7. Please hang up the wet towel (x 1000) 8. Write your grandmother. Using paper.

It goes on.

I am the yeller in the hall. The demander of respect.

"Put the seat down." "Have you printed that out?" "Where is your______"

Sigh.

DAYS TO 50: 401.

My Baby is 19!

Nearly not a teen.

Well, I was there at the beginning. A regular Wednesday when I was finishing making curtains. Curtains. The first and last I would ever make. Nesting. I remember Katherine painting a room red days before Tobi was born...

It commenced. I called Joe. We decide t see GODFATHER III, which I hear was bad. I was out of the room throwing up so much and having mini contractions, I didn't really notice.

Dinner later on Van Ness and the radio playing David Bowie's "Changes." Yah think?

Walking, rocking, visualizing, endless Thursday.

Being measured. Not enough. Disappointment. Calling our birthing teacher. Eat soup, have wine, relax. 2 AM big contractions, biting Joe, pain, driving through the Castro as the bars let out. Worrying about wrecking John and Jean's car. Stop/Start.

Hospital room like the broom closet. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Monitors. Signing forms while pushing.

Finally, beautifully, you. 5:29 AM. Dawn.

DAYS TO 50: 402.

A perfect day in the city - part II

There are clusters of things in San Francisco. Duos, Trios. Quartets. Quintets.

1. Yerba Buena gardens, MLK Fountain, Lunch at Samovar, one or more museums (SFMOMA, Jewish Museum, Yerba Buena) and a movie (Westfield or Metreon)

2. Japantown - sushi, noodles, saki, sweets; shopping, public baths, Sundance Cinemas

3. North Beach - Washington Square, Grant Street (especially for boutiques, clothing, oddities, maps!), yummy food, then up to Coit Tower and the Filbert Steps.

4. Financial District - Golden Gate Tennis and Swim Club, Ferry Building, walking the wharf, Saturday and Sunday markets, the Slanted Door or burgers at an outdoor cafe.

5. Noe Valley - bakery, second hand stores, Rabat for shoes, Korean, Mexican, Peruvian cuisine, bagels or breakfast. Lisa Violetta or Nest. Great Local Book stores!

6. Cortland Street - Good Life (and how I cherish my local grocery store...), Heartfelt (the best gift shop EVER), Red Hill books, Liberty Cafe, the wine bar, Progressive Grounds, Bernal Beasts, Bernal Yoga, our library - all new!, and THEN walking to the hill.

7. Fort Funston - the views, the walk!

8. Ocean Beach, coffee bars with surfers, the Beach Chalet

9. Ocean Beach - the Cliff House, Sutro Baths, the walk to Golden Gate Bridge.

10. Mission - Roosveldt Tamales, St. Francis, the new gourmet donut shop, burritos, galleries, Mission Cultural Center, Dance Mission, ODC, on and on......

11. Marina - brunch at Liverpool Lil's, Crissy Field to Fort Point with the pooch, coffee and browsing at the Warming Shack.

12. Temple Emanuel/Sacramento Street - best second handing, Magic Flute, walking in the Presideo, Rubens at the golf club, fancy foods and clothes in Laurel Village.

And lucky 13. Clement Street - Green Apple Books, Blue Danube, gift shops, super tokyo.

DAYS TO 50: 402

A perfect day in the city - part I

I live in a place that is a blessing. Truly. Each day I awake to so many possibilities in San Francisco. First, the morning view from our cottage on a hill - rosy and clear, clouds or no, the morning electric lights glittering on the houses in Noe Valley and atop Twin Peaks. Other mornings - fog. And even with fog we face many a variation. There is the fog that surrounds the house like twisted bed blankets. THe fog that slinks down the hill. Cresting fog that is hooked onto the hill opposite. There are bits of drifting mist or fog. There are dawns shrouded in rain or daybreaks of fluffy clouds or mornings of Italian blue skies.

All mine for the price of coffee (and my mortgage)

DAYS TO 50: 403

To Katherine - with love on her Birthday!

Main Entry: or·chi·da·ceous
Pronunciation: \ˌȯr-kə-ˈdā-shəs\
Function: adjective
Etymology: New Latin Orchidaceae, family name, from Orchis
Date: 1838
1 : of, relating to, or resembling the orchids
2 : showy, ostentatious

Orchidaceous
crafted, crafty, crafting girl
snagged backdoor love/life.

DAYS TO 50: 404

I'm not feeling it

I feel a little abused around the edges and now I need to write some sort of script in the next 24 hours for 70 students. So rather than rattle on here, let's see if I can do it...

DAYS TO 50: 405

Bile or Optimism?

Today, after a bout of acid reflux I experienced a build up of bile that surely had to do with aging, frustration, and all in the face of possibly job hunting.

Yes, job hunting. If my site is forced to let go of positions, mine is on the chopping block.

I am trying to envision interviewing, being new at a site. How does the copier work? Is the laminator as fussy as ours? Hauling in my books, tree, rocker and re-doing yet another classroom. Do they have rules? Do they have rodents????? I am trying to envision folding into yet another team. What is your scope and sequence? How do you do it? How do you share materials and ideas? Or a school that does not team. Do you share materials and ideas? I am trying to envision not leaving Buena Vista in tears. Good luck with that. It has been a nest and home base for 14 years. My classroom is across the hall from my son's K/1 class and my daughter's K/1 room is across the way. I am trying to envision this as an invigorating next step, not a step off a cliff.

I have to work on my vision.

DAYS TO 50. 406.

Another favorite

When You are Old
by W. B. Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

DAYS TO 50: 407

Thank you - Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

DAYS TO 50: 408