1. Some of my students didn't sleep last night.
2. Some of them haven't eaten anything since yesterday's school lunch.
3. Some of them are trying to find the right balance of anti-depressants and/or anti-psychotic meds.
4. Some of them are seniors and are beginning to feel a bit crazy about getting to leave school and having to leave school, and they can't decide whether they love or hate these things.
5. Being cooped up in a computer lab when it's 80 degrees and sunny outside isn't anyone's idea of fun.
6. Some of these kids know a whole lot more about livestock and motors than I could ever dream of knowing.
7. Some of them are taking care of mentally ill parents at home and may not get to class on time because they had to wait for the ambulance...again.
8. Some of them are so smart that they're bored out of their minds and coming up with trouble to keep themselves entertained.
9. Some of them look scroungy because they had to get younger brothers and sisters ready for school this morning, and they put little sister's hair in ponytails instead of brushing their own before catching the bus.
10. Some of them laugh and joke because they're afraid of anyone figuring out that they care very much that they're failing, and they're covering up.
11. Not all of them HAVE to like me or like my class.
12. I can love them, anyway.
13. Crazy isn't such a bad state of mind if you're in far enough.
Showing posts with label Thursday Thirteen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thursday Thirteen. Show all posts
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Thirteen Marriage Tips for Bibliophiles
1. Budget for books the way you do for food and electricity...or you won't have food and electricity.
2. Read each other's books.
3. Keep separate accounts at the used bookstore.
4. Books are paper. Paper is good insulation. Line the walls of your house with bookcases. Fill them. It's the environmentally responsible thing to do.
5. Read aloud to each other.
6. Keep stray dishes, flowerpots, etc... handy to throw during arguments, lest you be tempted to throw books.
7. Respect each other's differing literary tastes.
8. To communicate with a spouse who is reading a book, replace his or her bookmark with a note.
9. James Fenimore Cooper is your friend.
10. Work out a shelving system together to ensure both of you can find the books you need when you need them.
11. For the sake of your financial stability, do not often shop for books together.
12. A bookless parlor is a howling wilderness.
13. Buy only one copy of books you both love. The thought of having to buy replacement copies is an excellent divorce deterrent.
2. Read each other's books.
3. Keep separate accounts at the used bookstore.
4. Books are paper. Paper is good insulation. Line the walls of your house with bookcases. Fill them. It's the environmentally responsible thing to do.
5. Read aloud to each other.
6. Keep stray dishes, flowerpots, etc... handy to throw during arguments, lest you be tempted to throw books.
7. Respect each other's differing literary tastes.
8. To communicate with a spouse who is reading a book, replace his or her bookmark with a note.
9. James Fenimore Cooper is your friend.
10. Work out a shelving system together to ensure both of you can find the books you need when you need them.
11. For the sake of your financial stability, do not often shop for books together.
12. A bookless parlor is a howling wilderness.
13. Buy only one copy of books you both love. The thought of having to buy replacement copies is an excellent divorce deterrent.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Thirteen Reasons To Love Fairy Tales
I have an inordinate fondness for fairy tales and mythopoetic literature. This evening I've spent several hours at SurLaLune, pouring over annotated fairy tales and their histories, not to mention many, many absolutely gorgeous illustrations. It's an incredible site.
If anyone knows of a graduate program that focuses in on mythopoetic lit or fairy tale lit or literature of the fantastic, drop me a line. Until then, here are thirteen reasons to love fairy tales.
1. Magical powers.
2. Wise women.
3. Brave princes and princesses.
4. Unbearable suffering.
5. Perserverance.
6. Long, flowing hair. (Yes, I know it's terribly girly, but...I'm a girl!)
7. Scary monsters. (See here. If you get this joke, I will write a poem for you of your very own.)
8. Small children being eaten.
9. Good overcoming evil.
10. Forests and thickets and rivers and lakes and thorns and flowers and mountains and castles and cottages.
11. Otherworldly kingdoms.
12. Talking beasts.
13. Journeys of the exterior and interior.
If anyone knows of a graduate program that focuses in on mythopoetic lit or fairy tale lit or literature of the fantastic, drop me a line. Until then, here are thirteen reasons to love fairy tales.
1. Magical powers.
2. Wise women.
3. Brave princes and princesses.
4. Unbearable suffering.
5. Perserverance.
6. Long, flowing hair. (Yes, I know it's terribly girly, but...I'm a girl!)
7. Scary monsters. (See here. If you get this joke, I will write a poem for you of your very own.)
8. Small children being eaten.
9. Good overcoming evil.
10. Forests and thickets and rivers and lakes and thorns and flowers and mountains and castles and cottages.
11. Otherworldly kingdoms.
12. Talking beasts.
13. Journeys of the exterior and interior.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Thirteen Things in My Desk Drawer
Yesterday I came home and swiped at the wide, flat drawer beneath the center of my desktop, intending to open it and grab a pen. It budged, but wouldn't open. I had to drag it open, to my wry displeasure. The reason? Too much stuff crammed in it. Here's a sampling.
1. Umpteen million pens and pencils: ball point, gel, and mechanical. (The fountain pens are set apart, well-nigh sanctified, in fact.)
2. Two pairs of sissors. One for me and one that the children are allowed to use. This is not due to safety factors. This is due to me wanting a pair of sissors that haven't been used to cut industrial grade cardboard to make castles and French log homes.
3. Empty Whitman sampler and Altoids tins. You never know when these will come in handy.
4. Enough mechanical pencil refills to be a lead poisoning health hazard.
5. A stapler. This is not always in residence, as Great Scott and The Daughters borrow it with regularity.
6. Umpteen million erasers, but they're apparently the wrong kind, as I am regularly asked to buy more.
7. Flathead and phillpshead screwdrivers.
8. Coconut brittle.
9. Two miniature screwdriver sets, neither of which are the right size to fix whatever pair of eyeglasses has broken this time.
10. Boxes of staples, brads, two or three different sizes of paperclips, and a box of butterfly clips.
11. Two or three different kinds of staple removers, regardless of the fact that I almost always just use my fingernails. This would explain the shape of my fingernails, I suppose.
12. Occasionally a stray M&M or Skittle. Finding these is just like Christmas, no matter how old they are. Hey, who am I to ask questions about age?
13. Two freerange, vampiric thumbtacks that attack and then scurry away to hide beneath the pens or in a far corner until they feel the need to feed again.
1. Umpteen million pens and pencils: ball point, gel, and mechanical. (The fountain pens are set apart, well-nigh sanctified, in fact.)
2. Two pairs of sissors. One for me and one that the children are allowed to use. This is not due to safety factors. This is due to me wanting a pair of sissors that haven't been used to cut industrial grade cardboard to make castles and French log homes.
3. Empty Whitman sampler and Altoids tins. You never know when these will come in handy.
4. Enough mechanical pencil refills to be a lead poisoning health hazard.
5. A stapler. This is not always in residence, as Great Scott and The Daughters borrow it with regularity.
6. Umpteen million erasers, but they're apparently the wrong kind, as I am regularly asked to buy more.
7. Flathead and phillpshead screwdrivers.
8. Coconut brittle.
9. Two miniature screwdriver sets, neither of which are the right size to fix whatever pair of eyeglasses has broken this time.
10. Boxes of staples, brads, two or three different sizes of paperclips, and a box of butterfly clips.
11. Two or three different kinds of staple removers, regardless of the fact that I almost always just use my fingernails. This would explain the shape of my fingernails, I suppose.
12. Occasionally a stray M&M or Skittle. Finding these is just like Christmas, no matter how old they are. Hey, who am I to ask questions about age?
13. Two freerange, vampiric thumbtacks that attack and then scurry away to hide beneath the pens or in a far corner until they feel the need to feed again.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Observations on Motherhood: Those Kinds of Days
Some days I feel much better prepared for what motherhood requires than other days.
Some days it all comes together quite well, and the bills are paid, and all the batteries work, and the children play happily together and have shining teeth. Other days nothing gets done, and it rains in the windows, and the cat leaves tongue prints in the grease in the unwashed pan on the stove, and the children look like prime candidates for the cast of “Oliver!”
Then, of course, there are all the days in between, which probably look from the outside more like the first kind of day but which feel from the inside far more like the second. The trick is to navigate these with all the aplomb that comes naturally when one is having the first kind of day and knows it. It helps to remember that many famous and successful people have had parents who probably had days of the second kind, too.
1. Albert Einstein’s mother didn’t always get his hair combed before he got out the door.
2. Emily Dickinson’s mother couldn’t get her to come out of her room and play with visitors’ children every time they had company.
3. Jonathan Edwards’ mother couldn’t have counted the number of times she demanded, “Will you just get on with it and kill that spider?!”
4. Thomas Edison’s mother was sure he would ruin his eyes reading in the dark.
5. Henry Ford’s mother told him to go play in the street at least once.
6. C.S. Lewis’s father despaired that his son might live in a fantasy land forever.
7. Benjamin Franklin’s mother worried that he didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.
8. Louis Pasteur’s mother once despaired of ever getting him to wash his hands.
9. George Washington’s mother warned him time and time again to brush his teeth.
10. Mark Twain’s mother....Oh, Lord, that poor woman!
11. Edgar Allan Poe’s mother got sick of cleaning up after all those birds.
12. I can just hear Christopher Columbus’s mother saying, “It’ll be a whole new world when I let you do that!”
13. Leif Erikson’s mother threatened to ship him off so often he took her seriously and did it himself.
Some days it all comes together quite well, and the bills are paid, and all the batteries work, and the children play happily together and have shining teeth. Other days nothing gets done, and it rains in the windows, and the cat leaves tongue prints in the grease in the unwashed pan on the stove, and the children look like prime candidates for the cast of “Oliver!”
Then, of course, there are all the days in between, which probably look from the outside more like the first kind of day but which feel from the inside far more like the second. The trick is to navigate these with all the aplomb that comes naturally when one is having the first kind of day and knows it. It helps to remember that many famous and successful people have had parents who probably had days of the second kind, too.
1. Albert Einstein’s mother didn’t always get his hair combed before he got out the door.
2. Emily Dickinson’s mother couldn’t get her to come out of her room and play with visitors’ children every time they had company.
3. Jonathan Edwards’ mother couldn’t have counted the number of times she demanded, “Will you just get on with it and kill that spider?!”
4. Thomas Edison’s mother was sure he would ruin his eyes reading in the dark.
5. Henry Ford’s mother told him to go play in the street at least once.
6. C.S. Lewis’s father despaired that his son might live in a fantasy land forever.
7. Benjamin Franklin’s mother worried that he didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.
8. Louis Pasteur’s mother once despaired of ever getting him to wash his hands.
9. George Washington’s mother warned him time and time again to brush his teeth.
10. Mark Twain’s mother....Oh, Lord, that poor woman!
11. Edgar Allan Poe’s mother got sick of cleaning up after all those birds.
12. I can just hear Christopher Columbus’s mother saying, “It’ll be a whole new world when I let you do that!”
13. Leif Erikson’s mother threatened to ship him off so often he took her seriously and did it himself.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Thirteen Recent Moments of Serendipity or Sheer Amusement
1. Finding a given-up-for-good earring on the school parking lot this evening as we left the girls' spring concert. It was one of my favorite pair, one I lost Wednesday afternoon.
2. Seeing three deer in the field last night, while walking. One leapt out of some trees rather near me and ran, making startled deer noises, across the field and into the woods. The other two studied me at length before running halfway across the field and then stopping to study me some more. They did this so long that I expect they will present their theses at the end of this semester.
3. Finding purple salvia at the local grocery store's parking lot greenhouse.
4. The Older Daughter's deciding to forgo the school reward field trip in order to do something alone with me that day for a treat.
"Are you telling me you'd rather do something with your family than with your friends?" I asked, astounded.
She looked at me as if I was utterly brainless, "Well, yeah!" I am still reeling in befuddled wonder.
5. Sitting at my table with my father soldering phone wires and fastening them to receptacles and talking or not talking, as the mood struck us.
6. A working internet connection.
7. And phone lines that don't buzz in our ears.
8. Walking down to the creek in the rain while we were under a flash flood warning and watching the water tearing past at four times the width of the normal stream bed.
9. Looking out the window during last Friday evening's slumber party to see the younger daughter and her two best friends in the driveway having an all-out mud fight .
10. Hosing them down afterward. In well water.
11. Overhearing the younger daughter tell her father over dinner, "I like 'Red Green', even if it is a show for middle-aged men!"
12. Participating in the napkin fight that erupted as a result of the above comment.
13. Lying on my stomach across a made bed in the middle of the day, watching a steady rain soak the earth outside the window and listening to it on the leaves and grass. Luxury.
2. Seeing three deer in the field last night, while walking. One leapt out of some trees rather near me and ran, making startled deer noises, across the field and into the woods. The other two studied me at length before running halfway across the field and then stopping to study me some more. They did this so long that I expect they will present their theses at the end of this semester.
3. Finding purple salvia at the local grocery store's parking lot greenhouse.
4. The Older Daughter's deciding to forgo the school reward field trip in order to do something alone with me that day for a treat.
"Are you telling me you'd rather do something with your family than with your friends?" I asked, astounded.
She looked at me as if I was utterly brainless, "Well, yeah!" I am still reeling in befuddled wonder.
5. Sitting at my table with my father soldering phone wires and fastening them to receptacles and talking or not talking, as the mood struck us.
6. A working internet connection.
7. And phone lines that don't buzz in our ears.
8. Walking down to the creek in the rain while we were under a flash flood warning and watching the water tearing past at four times the width of the normal stream bed.
9. Looking out the window during last Friday evening's slumber party to see the younger daughter and her two best friends in the driveway having an all-out mud fight .
10. Hosing them down afterward. In well water.
11. Overhearing the younger daughter tell her father over dinner, "I like 'Red Green', even if it is a show for middle-aged men!"
12. Participating in the napkin fight that erupted as a result of the above comment.
13. Lying on my stomach across a made bed in the middle of the day, watching a steady rain soak the earth outside the window and listening to it on the leaves and grass. Luxury.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Thirteen Things That Drive My Husband Batty
1. My cold feet against his bare legs in winter.
2. I wear crop pants.
3. I have a neti pot...
4. ...and use it.
5. I prefer to mow the grass in fun designs (think Indian or Celtic knotwork) rather than doing a complete section at a time.
6. If a book is very boring or very interesting, I have no problem with turning to the back (or the middle) and reading there for awhile.
7. I am chronologically challenged (read, oblivious). Dinner gets started when the sun begins setting, a problematic issue in spring and summer.
8. I dislike wearing shoes.
9. I forget to turn off the stove burners and oven...
10. ...and to shut the windows when the heat is on...
11. ...and a couple of times, to pick up the children after school (Children? What children? Whose children?!).
12. James Fenimore Cooper amuses me.
13. I think trees talk.
2. I wear crop pants.
3. I have a neti pot...
4. ...and use it.
5. I prefer to mow the grass in fun designs (think Indian or Celtic knotwork) rather than doing a complete section at a time.
6. If a book is very boring or very interesting, I have no problem with turning to the back (or the middle) and reading there for awhile.
7. I am chronologically challenged (read, oblivious). Dinner gets started when the sun begins setting, a problematic issue in spring and summer.
8. I dislike wearing shoes.
9. I forget to turn off the stove burners and oven...
10. ...and to shut the windows when the heat is on...
11. ...and a couple of times, to pick up the children after school (Children? What children? Whose children?!).
12. James Fenimore Cooper amuses me.
13. I think trees talk.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Thirteen Things to do on A(nother) Snow Day
1. Let the children sleep in.
2. Let the husband sleep in.
3. Sleep in.
4. Throw the cat off one's head.
5. Make scones with real butter for breakfast.
6. Do laundry...and more laundry
7. Pull out season 3 of Hercules: The Legendary Journies, the one you bought and stashed away before Christmas in anticipation of potential snow days.
8. Listen to delighted cheers.
9. From the husband.
10. Join in the general mockery and delight of cheesy dialogue and fight scenes.
11. Let the husband field The Older Daughter's question as to why the females in Hercules wear clothes that facilitate pneumonia.
12. Wonder how much more Hercules we can take.
13. Listen to the news and discover school is out again tomorrow. Good thing I've got seasons 5 and 6 still hidden in the bureau drawer.
2. Let the husband sleep in.
3. Sleep in.
4. Throw the cat off one's head.
5. Make scones with real butter for breakfast.
6. Do laundry...and more laundry
7. Pull out season 3 of Hercules: The Legendary Journies, the one you bought and stashed away before Christmas in anticipation of potential snow days.
8. Listen to delighted cheers.
9. From the husband.
10. Join in the general mockery and delight of cheesy dialogue and fight scenes.
11. Let the husband field The Older Daughter's question as to why the females in Hercules wear clothes that facilitate pneumonia.
12. Wonder how much more Hercules we can take.
13. Listen to the news and discover school is out again tomorrow. Good thing I've got seasons 5 and 6 still hidden in the bureau drawer.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Thirteen Things...That Begin with "S"
Back in December Seeker gave me the letter "S" with the assignment to list ten things beginning with "S" that I love. Since I am such an underachiever in regard to promptness, I shall endeavor to tack on an extra three things, thus bagging brownie points while still fulfilling my Thursday list of thirteen things. Ah, multitasking!
1). Symbolism
2). Scott--The man I sleep with and cook for and read with and worship and torment and for whom I buy chocolate.
3). Silence
4). Stillness
5). Snow
6). Shimmering light on running water
7). Subtleties
8). Silliness
9). Slippery, moss covered stones
10). Streams
11). Sisters (my own, my aunts, my daughters...this relationship in general is one that interests and fascinates me and makes me grateful)
12). Sunlight
13). Seekers (people who persist in asking questions when there is no guarantee of being given an answer they can bear or even any answer at all, people who ponder and wonder and ask what if)
1). Symbolism
2). Scott--The man I sleep with and cook for and read with and worship and torment and for whom I buy chocolate.
3). Silence
4). Stillness
5). Snow
6). Shimmering light on running water
7). Subtleties
8). Silliness
9). Slippery, moss covered stones
10). Streams
11). Sisters (my own, my aunts, my daughters...this relationship in general is one that interests and fascinates me and makes me grateful)
12). Sunlight
13). Seekers (people who persist in asking questions when there is no guarantee of being given an answer they can bear or even any answer at all, people who ponder and wonder and ask what if)
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Thursday Thirteen: Books Since Christmas
The following is a list of books I've either read or am currently reading or will soon be reading as a result of generous Christmas gift carding (and borrowing from my husband's and our daughters' stashes):
1. Eragon by Christopher Paolini--We saw the movie over Christmas break. Great Scott had read both this book and its sequal to the girls, but I'd registered them only in bits and pieces, so I reread them for myself this week.
2. Eldest by Christopher Paolini--No, I don't believe that Murtagh and Eragon are full brothers. I'm betting Brom was Eragon's father. My older daughter disagrees. This is the stuff of a lively relationship. :) (Even if I did agree, it's entirely too much fun baiting her.)
3. Blue Iris by Mary Oliver--I need to write her. She's kept me alive for years now. She deserves tangible thanks. I begin to breathe again when I read her work.
4. Late Wife by Claudia Emerson--Found this by accident. Am impressed all to pieces. Very concrete. No telling. Showing. Showing. Showing. Meaning conveyed via image. Excellent.
5. Mint Snowball by Naomi Shihab Nye--Prose poems! I've been becoming increasingly interested in prose poetry. Nye is a favorite. Good combo, I'm hoping.
6. Narrow Road to the Interior by Matsuo Bashō, translated by Sam Hamill--Maybe I was feeling a bit harried in the bookstore when I bought this with a gift card after Christmas. Usually haiku doesn't catch my attention. This, though, seemed restful, and when I opened it, immediately I felt permission to "play" more with my own writing, to take it less seriously and try new things. Plus, Great Scott has long been a fan of Bashō's, and I knew he'd enjoy it, too.
7. The Gift by Hafiz, translated by Daniel Ladinsky--Rumi is one of my favorite poets. Hafiz sounded as though his work might have in it what I love so much about Rumi's. This is an educated guess. I'm widening my horizons.
8. October Palace by Jane Hirshfield--I love the grounding effect of Hirshfield's poetry. I need it.
9. Lincoln's Melancholy by Joshua Wolf Shenk--Finally I'm reading this, and although I'm reserving judgement until I'm finished, thus far I'm notably impressed by the depth of Shenk's research and how cautious he seems to be about drawing set-in-stone conclusions. You'll hear more from me on this one in the future.
10. A Writer's Book of Days by Judy Reeves--I really don't like buying books about writing or books of writing prompts or plans. They ususally sit on the shelf and mock me. This one, though, is friendly. I think it purrs when I open it.
11. The Essence of Zen compiled by Maggie Pinkney--An anthology of zenlike quotations from widely (and wildly) varying sources.
12. Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill--This one is Great Scott's, and I shall have to wait until he finishes it to tackle it myself, since I read in fits and starts, and it drives him crazy to pick up one of his own books and find four or five of my bookmarks in it. He is a patient man.
13. The Chronicles of Chrestomanci Volume II by Diana Wynne Jones--I'm always on the lookout for acceptable fantasy books to keep the young book-demanding hordes here in our home at bay. So far I've not read anything of Diana Wynne Jones' that I'd have any qualms about handing over to the girls immediately. This pleases me. Plus, her books are just plain fun.
1. Eragon by Christopher Paolini--We saw the movie over Christmas break. Great Scott had read both this book and its sequal to the girls, but I'd registered them only in bits and pieces, so I reread them for myself this week.
2. Eldest by Christopher Paolini--No, I don't believe that Murtagh and Eragon are full brothers. I'm betting Brom was Eragon's father. My older daughter disagrees. This is the stuff of a lively relationship. :) (Even if I did agree, it's entirely too much fun baiting her.)
3. Blue Iris by Mary Oliver--I need to write her. She's kept me alive for years now. She deserves tangible thanks. I begin to breathe again when I read her work.
4. Late Wife by Claudia Emerson--Found this by accident. Am impressed all to pieces. Very concrete. No telling. Showing. Showing. Showing. Meaning conveyed via image. Excellent.
5. Mint Snowball by Naomi Shihab Nye--Prose poems! I've been becoming increasingly interested in prose poetry. Nye is a favorite. Good combo, I'm hoping.
6. Narrow Road to the Interior by Matsuo Bashō, translated by Sam Hamill--Maybe I was feeling a bit harried in the bookstore when I bought this with a gift card after Christmas. Usually haiku doesn't catch my attention. This, though, seemed restful, and when I opened it, immediately I felt permission to "play" more with my own writing, to take it less seriously and try new things. Plus, Great Scott has long been a fan of Bashō's, and I knew he'd enjoy it, too.
7. The Gift by Hafiz, translated by Daniel Ladinsky--Rumi is one of my favorite poets. Hafiz sounded as though his work might have in it what I love so much about Rumi's. This is an educated guess. I'm widening my horizons.
8. October Palace by Jane Hirshfield--I love the grounding effect of Hirshfield's poetry. I need it.
9. Lincoln's Melancholy by Joshua Wolf Shenk--Finally I'm reading this, and although I'm reserving judgement until I'm finished, thus far I'm notably impressed by the depth of Shenk's research and how cautious he seems to be about drawing set-in-stone conclusions. You'll hear more from me on this one in the future.
10. A Writer's Book of Days by Judy Reeves--I really don't like buying books about writing or books of writing prompts or plans. They ususally sit on the shelf and mock me. This one, though, is friendly. I think it purrs when I open it.
11. The Essence of Zen compiled by Maggie Pinkney--An anthology of zenlike quotations from widely (and wildly) varying sources.
12. Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill--This one is Great Scott's, and I shall have to wait until he finishes it to tackle it myself, since I read in fits and starts, and it drives him crazy to pick up one of his own books and find four or five of my bookmarks in it. He is a patient man.
13. The Chronicles of Chrestomanci Volume II by Diana Wynne Jones--I'm always on the lookout for acceptable fantasy books to keep the young book-demanding hordes here in our home at bay. So far I've not read anything of Diana Wynne Jones' that I'd have any qualms about handing over to the girls immediately. This pleases me. Plus, her books are just plain fun.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Thursday Thirteen: Impressions at a Memorial Service
I've not posted a Thursday Thirteen list in a long time. I like lists. They are a genre of literature all to themselves. I'm not so fond of joining things. Therefore I will compromise. I reserve the option of posting a Thursday Thirteen list but will do it without using the formatting or linkage that go along with the original and official deeliebopper.
Today was Dr. Nancy Walker's memorial service. Below are thirteen thoughts or observations that ran through my head.
1. It is cold.
2. What wonderful people are Witt and Leslie Salley (who were of great help to her and were with her when she died)! How glad I am to have met them.
3. THAT was Nancy?! (On seeing a picture of her in a poofy dress in her teen years)
4. Her mother looks very much like her, only perhaps a little softer, more approachable.
5. Her sister has a wonderful sense of humor.
6. Having people get up and speak (a "Nancy roast" Nancy and a friend called it) is so much nicer than having a sermon! (Great Scott take note. Please no sermons at my funeral!)
7. While there was not an overabundance of flowers, the stories I heard told about her today make us all bloom into laughter over and over.
8. It is amazing how many lives a teacher of teachers (or a Teacher of Teachers, as Dr. George Jenson put it) can impact. She potentially influences and inspires not just her own students, but their students as well.
9. I did not know that she went back to finish her degree after her daughter's death. Somehow it seemed to me that she'd probably always been clicking through the halls of higher education, setting students quivering in their boots with one glance over her tiny wire-rimmed glasses.
10. Van Morrison's music can be perfect for a memorial service.
11. It is good to let down the guard of professional veneer and be human.
12. The passing of an exceptional person brings choking grief, but borne together with others who loved and appreciated her, that grief is somehow transformed into a shared joy in having known her.
13. Nancy was an exceptional person. One of the characteristics that made her such was that she treated those who knew her as exceptional people as well, worthy of being listened to, capable of accomplishing their goals, and unique and valuable in themselves. I was struck, as person after person, student after student, colleague after colleague stood to honor her, by how right she was.
Today was Dr. Nancy Walker's memorial service. Below are thirteen thoughts or observations that ran through my head.
1. It is cold.
2. What wonderful people are Witt and Leslie Salley (who were of great help to her and were with her when she died)! How glad I am to have met them.
3. THAT was Nancy?! (On seeing a picture of her in a poofy dress in her teen years)
4. Her mother looks very much like her, only perhaps a little softer, more approachable.
5. Her sister has a wonderful sense of humor.
6. Having people get up and speak (a "Nancy roast" Nancy and a friend called it) is so much nicer than having a sermon! (Great Scott take note. Please no sermons at my funeral!)
7. While there was not an overabundance of flowers, the stories I heard told about her today make us all bloom into laughter over and over.
8. It is amazing how many lives a teacher of teachers (or a Teacher of Teachers, as Dr. George Jenson put it) can impact. She potentially influences and inspires not just her own students, but their students as well.
9. I did not know that she went back to finish her degree after her daughter's death. Somehow it seemed to me that she'd probably always been clicking through the halls of higher education, setting students quivering in their boots with one glance over her tiny wire-rimmed glasses.
10. Van Morrison's music can be perfect for a memorial service.
11. It is good to let down the guard of professional veneer and be human.
12. The passing of an exceptional person brings choking grief, but borne together with others who loved and appreciated her, that grief is somehow transformed into a shared joy in having known her.
13. Nancy was an exceptional person. One of the characteristics that made her such was that she treated those who knew her as exceptional people as well, worthy of being listened to, capable of accomplishing their goals, and unique and valuable in themselves. I was struck, as person after person, student after student, colleague after colleague stood to honor her, by how right she was.
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