Thursday, November 25, 2021

 Thursday, November 25, 2021

 

     I slept long and deeply last night. Ah! I am one lucky lady.  I walked with Olga and Jack this morning. I focused more on conversation than the number of steps I could get in between my house and the end of the block.  Jack is one lucky dog.  Olga came across him filthy and starving and took him in. He suffered from food insecurity for a while. That quieted down. He’s still not happy when Olga goes out without him. I think she takes him wherever she can.  

   I also ran into Julie and Vince. While yesterday, Julie was content to abandon Vince and walk with me, not so today. We spoke briefly before she ran after Vince, who was walking at a good clip. I looked up the ‘correct’ form for It’s ____.  Should it be I, or should it be me?  I knew it should be I, and I knew why; it was an appositive.  Julie disagreed, thinking the self-reference should be the object of the verb, but it’s not. It acts as an equal sign between two pronouns. 

   I got my daily blog entry completed, and Damon called. He, Cylin, and his friend Eddie were going to Damon’s Steak House for dinner. August, his son, might have to stay home alone.  The poor kid had strep throat. He’d been running a fever for three days.  Damon and Cylin took him to his regular doctor, a pediatrician.  They realized he would have to switch to an adult doctor now that he’s over eighteen.  Cylin went in while August was being examined. That’s going to stop.  The doctor asked August if he knew anyone with Mono.  It’s that age, and he’s away at college. 

    Damon canceled plans to do a Zoom meeting today and proposed doing one for my birthday.  Both made me sad.  The first because I was looking forward to it; the second because I realized what a mess my family is.  I can’t think of any way to change things, so everyone is satisfied. Talking about problems is not allowed by members of my family. I have no idea how to resolve serious underlying problems if you don’t. I remember there were folks in the commune who felt this way. All the people I’m thinking of were incapable of sustaining long-term intimate relationships that weren’t abusive.  No, I can think of someone in that category who does just fine and doesn’t talk about things. Negotiations are out, but concessions are possible. However, these people live differently than Mike, and I did. We spent a lot of time together; they live separate lives with specified areas of overlap.

    Mike and I were interested in finding the best solution to our differences, the one that suited both of us.  We called it cocreation. It’s the dialectic: thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. We often came up with a third possibility that wasn’t only acceptable but was better than the one either of us had thought of; well, at least I had thought of for myself.  It allowed me to experience things I might not normally have taken on.  Did we always do that? Of course not. We weren’t perfect humans.  Sometimes, neither of us got what we wanted; sometimes, only one of us did;  but we had the paradigm of cocreation in mind at all times. There aren’t many people who are interested in relating to others that way. I was lucky to have met Mike. I was lucky that he decided to marry me before our first date and patiently corralled me. 

   Because I was anticipating a Thanksgiving feast, I didn’t want to overeat during the day.  I did eat the second papaya I had from Darby’s garden.  There had been three. I gave one to Judy. She said it was delicious, a strawberry papaya. I know nothing about the fruit.  The first one I ate with blueberries. Today, I ate it the way Judy recommended, with lime juice. OMG! So delicious!! I squeezed half a lime and poured it into the well created when I removed the seeds.  Wow!

    Judy had dinner scheduled for 4:30. Elsa and I walked up there and arrived on time.  The only person there besides Judy and Paulette, who were running around like crazy people getting things ready, was Brian, who lived in the Adam and Jazzy’s ohana.  It’s a small space, 500 sq. ft. It’s a room with a full kitchen.  It’s great for him. Adam and Jazzy lived in it for a while with two kids. That was tight.  Brian and I sat there and chatted, waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive. Besides Adam, Jazzy, and their three kids, there was one other family, friends of theirs, with an autistic child who gets easily overstimulated and upset.  The food was to die for, as was the lanai.  We ate on this open-air platform with a covered pergola overhead protecting up from rain if needed. 

   We all got some champagne to toast Judy and Paulette for their tremendous job fixing the lanai.  There were many rotten boards. Some they repaired, and some were beyond repair and had to be pulled up and replaced. Then they had to paint it.  This is a large space, at least 700 sq feet. They worked their knockers off.   I hadn’t had any liquor at all since before Mike died. I have always been a cheap drunk. I was quickly affected by the little I did drink.  It made me tired. I left about 6:30. 

    Once the liquor wore off, I was wide awake, afraid to go to bed because I wouldn’t be able to sleep.  I watched Offspring until 10.  For the second time in 295 days, I didn’t get 10,000 steps in.  The app won’t count it as a break in my streak. It forgives a one-day break. I also had fulfilled over 100% of my goal for the week because of higher counts on other days.  I don’t do alcohol well. 

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

 

 I slept a good part of the night. I was up by 5:15 but chose to stay in bed a bit longer.  I didn’t have to rush; no yoga today.  

  On my morning walk, I saw Vince and Julie approaching. When their scent wafted down to us, Elsa pulled to greet them.  She knew where she could get her pets from.

   Today, Julie walked with me, abandoning Vince, who went around the block at a fast pace on his own.  Julie told me about a problem she was having with a sewing project. She does professional embroidery and sewing projects. She’s not a seamstress, working on clothing. Her current project is a stuffed animal.  She had lots of scrap material and could sell what she made. She complained her granddaughter had messed with the sights on her laser printer. Laser printer!

    The other day I mentioned my problem with getting Mike’s gravestone engraved to Lutz. The woman who does the engraving here doesn’t answer her phone. She’s unreliable or downright inaccessible.  I explored the inlaying process. Between the expense, the size problem (it would have to be a large stone to accommodate the supers script 2 in Mike’s Ph.D. 2, and my problems communicating with the sales rep for the company, I have abandoned that as a possibility.  I could still go with the brass plaque, but it seemed cold.  Lutz had recommended laser printing.  He proposed I buy one because he couldn’t imagine that anyone here on the island would have that technology. I asked Julie if her machine would work on stone. She didn’t think so. Besides, her machine was too small for the 1’ x 2’ x 3” stone I had purchased, not realizing how much trouble I would have to get it engraved.  Julie recommended I try the trophy shop.  That’s where I went to explore the brass plaque.  The shop owner didn’t recommend laser printing, but I may not have left an opening for that offer. I wasn’t overly optimistic but was more than willing to explore the option. 

   Julie went off on another topic, grammar. She apparently reads material where she frequently comes across cases where people incorrectly use the subjective voice instead of the objective, as in ‘He came to visit Mike and I’ instead of saying ‘Mike and me.’  I mentioned that “It’s me” is grammatically incorrect. She argued with me, saying it should be in the objective voice because it came after the verb.  I planned to look it up when I got home.

   I got home relatively late. I thought I had an 8 am appointment with one of my physical therapists. I rushed to take a shower and get out of the house by 7:30.   This PT, Terry, is different from Katie but also amazing.  I didn’t have much luck with PTs when I lived in Princeton and Ohio. The medical care I got in Ohio was better than what I got in Princeton, and the medical care I am getting here from Kaiser surpasses both.

   I was in a hurry to get to the 8 am appointment. I took the high road, Mamalahoa Highway and Palani Rd. Boy, was that ever a mistake. The traffic was stop and go up there. I was never going to make it on time.  I didn’t know what the problem was. There is a good possibility it was a school bus or just cars taking their kids to school.  They were having trouble finding bus drivers, so people had to drive their kids to school. That puts a lot of cars on the road.  There aren’t many turn-offs from Mamaloha.  It took a good 20 minutes to get to Hina Lani.  The way down toward the ocean was clear. I cut across on the middle road instead of going all the way down to the Queen K highway.  The middle road intersected with Palani, which was the road closest to the rehab place.

      I was only a few minutes late, only to learn my appointment was at 9.  It wasn’t worthwhile going all the way home. The receptionist said I could use some of the exercise machines.  I tried one but had no idea what I was doing. The clerk offered to help. She walked me around the exercise equipment. The instructions were printed on the machines. I hadn’t noticed. I did some upper body work, nothing too strenuous, and then went out to sit and read.  I read more of David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell.  Its message is more is not better.  It’s the ole U curve.  There’s too little, just enough, an optimal amount, more than you need, and too much.  Too much is just as bad as too little.  They’re both ruinous.

    I learned the other day that a favorite principal of mine had been in a bad car accident in February. His twelve-year-old son died, and he was hospitalized and nearly lost his arm.  I hoped the accident was caused by some drunk who crashed into the side of the car. No such luck.  The principal skidded on ice.  I can’t imagine this man’s agony. I got this information through one of the teachers I used to work with to whom I sent information about my teaching videos on YouTube. She knew the circumstances of the accident, which was not covered in the newspapers.   She told me the insurance company had insisted that he couldn’t leave the hospital to go to his son’s funeral. The hospital rigged some excuse so he could go. Can you imagine?! 

On the other hand, maybe the insurance company colluded with the hospital to figure out a way around the rule.  I also learned the man was back on the job.  I wish with all my heart that I could do something to help him in his suffering.

   I had a Cryotherapy appointment later in the day. I made a point of not constantly turning while in the machine to get more of the benefit of the cold. Turning every fifteen seconds is recommended.  The therapist told me when to turn. It was less pleasant than last time when I turned continually but hardly unbearable.  When I got out, she immediately took my temperature, 57⁰.  She declared this good Huh! Last time it was the same, and it wasn’t good.  She said, next time, she will take my temperature before I get it.  Seems I’m a little boiling cauldron. 

   It was such a lazy day.  Most of my days are on the lazy side. I don’t get much done. As they always say, if you want something done, ask a busy person.  I’m not busy; I don’t get much done.  I napped. I woke up for my appointment with Mama K’s crew. She asked to cancel until they had a replacement for their broken computer.   It is tough doing tutoring on Zoom over the phone.  

   Later in the day, Mama K sent me a text. Twin A spontaneously wrote the following. “I don’t no ware is Toco.”  She is moving ahead at the speed of summer lightning; remember, she still struggled to learn the letters of the alphabet during the summer.  However, teachers report all three of her kids have language problems. Unfortunately, they provide no details.  Mama k sees they’re agrammatic; that means they don’t use the right words or the words in the right order.  The sentence Twin A wrote above is an example of such a problem.  I think we can deal with that with my method of teaching. Well, it’s worth a try.

   I called the trophy store as per Julie’s recommendation. They can do laser printing on stone, marble, or granite, but there’s a limit. It can’t be bigger the one foot by two feet by three inches. That’s exactly the size of the granite I ordered. Done!  How much? I didn’t ask. It can’t be more than the $3,000 plus for the inlay or the $1000 for the brass plaque.  The laser printing will do more detail, but it’s not as deep as sandblasting. How long will it last? Marble will be good for fifty years; the granite for seventy. Done!!!

    Yvette called to tell me that Judy had been trying to get hold of me and was worried. I called her immediately. She said she had called me twice and had sent two texts. Often, my phone doesn’t beep when I get a text.  Also, Judy had used the house phone. I never answer that. It will be gone altogether at the end of the month now that I have the new system through Brian and Tommy.  Judy called to ask if she could borrow my folding chairs for the Thanksgiving dinner.  They were more suited for her table, which was high.  Paulette came by, and I gave her three of them. Yvette had the fourth one downstairs for her desk chair. Judy called later to ask if they could have that one too. I sent a text to Josh and Yvette and heard nothing. When I checked, I saw my message had not been delivered. I have no idea why that happens.  I called them. Yvette brought the chair up, put it in my car, and drove it up to Judy’s house.

    The verdict came in on the Ahmaud Arbery case. I don’t know if it should or should not have been murder one.  It was assumed it was a hate killing.  I was struck with a comment the defense attorney made some comment about Arbery’s ‘dirty long toenails.’  I thought that was an odd thing for the defense attorney to have made. It was obviously very disturbing. Some pundits speculate she was trying to evoke unconscious bias in the predominantly white jury. My first thought was the attorney felt the three men were guilty and was prejudicing the jury against them with that comment. My next thought was no; the attorney sensed that the judgment would go against the defendants and set up a basis for a mistrial based on the impact of his comment.  I assume she hadn’t done anything that could get her disbarred, but it could get the men a second trial under more favorable circumstances.

  Yvette came up to give me a quick Facebook tutorial.   I posted information about my videos on teaching phonics.  The ones I posted were lost on the thread.  How did I bring up only my own posts? She told me to click on my image. Worked like a charm. 

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

 Tuesday, November 23, 2021

 

    I slept till 5:15. I got up in the middle of the night to pee but fell right back to sleep the moment my head hits the pillow.  I am one good sleeper.  I was in a deep sleep until 5:15. I should have gotten up and started my morning walk. That would have been a good idea. My walking time was limited this morning because I had driveway yoga at 7am. I assured myself that I had plenty of time today to get my steps in; I could stay in bed a little longer. 

     It was close to six when Elsa and I got out the door.  Yvette was out walking her dogs too. Elsa didn’t want to walk with me. She pulled back to be with the others. Well, maybe not. She wanted to be pet by Yvette. She had less interest in the dogs. 

        I made a change in my walk as of last night. I have been aware that my left glutes were too tight; I then became aware that my right glutes are underused. This imbalance creates or supports my spinal curvature.  This confirms my belief that my alignment problems started before puberty. I remember my lopsided walk. As I walked, I emphasized contracting the right glutes, which changed my stride.  We’ll see.

   Judy and Paulette had loaded my car with their collected cardboard.  I drop off theirs and mine at the transfer station for recycling. A few months ago,  I discovered the Glicksteins didn’t recycle when I saw their garbage can loaded with cardboard as I walked the street in the morning. Now, they collect it, place it in the back of my car and I take it to the transfer station.  I had to get rid of the stuff today because I had two airport pickups.  Brian was coming in from California, and Darby and Patrick were returning from Oahu.  Brian was supposed to come in at 12:50 pm. Then it changed to 3 Pm. And then it was delayed again. He arrived at 10:58 pm.   I wanted to make sure I had a bed ready for him.  His place had been closed for over six months. He would be exhausted when he arrived after traveling since early this morning Pacific Coast and spending most of his time waiting in the airport before the five-hour flight to Hawaii.  If he slept in my guest room for the night, he would have the energy to open his place in the morning. 

   An NPR host interviewed Ann Patchet this morning. The interviewer listed her as her favorite author. I have to second that. She’s mine too. I haven’t read all her books but loved each one I did read.  Bel Canto was my first. It was recommended to me by my friend Carol Zimmerman.  Ah, I remember it well. On the talk show, Patchet talked about a friendship she had with an employee of Tom Hanks. She found the woman endless interesting, but she also said something else. She said this woman saw her “at her best and complete self.”  

     While most of us are a mixture of positive and negative, we want to be around people who see more positive in us than negative. I felt Mike was that way. I have one relative who describes me with terms appropriate for Ted Bundy – minus the murders. She has never accused me of being a serial killer.  My guess is the rule for this aspect of relationships follows the Magic Ratio. The rule is that there have to be five positive interactions for every negative one for a relationship to survive. Of course, they have to be somewhat of the same nature. It can’t be one infidelity compensated with five flowers.  Anyone can be viewed as purely negatively by others. I don’t know if anyone can be view as only positively by others. I suppose so. As with all interactions, we want to be around someone who sees us as having more positive characteristics than negative.  Mike and I both had complaints about each other, but we loved more about each other than we disliked.  I was proud of Mike, and I believe he was proud of me.  I know we both thought of each other as decent human beings, good people.

   I texted Isaac to tell him I was out for my walk if he wanted to join and headed out. As I came around the corner and walked up the hill toward his house, I saw him at the curb. I saw him answer his phone. Isaac comes from a close family; he has long, regular conversations with parents, siblings, grandparents, and cousins. It’s wonderful. I knew the phone call was a priority and didn’t expect him to join me until he was through.  Elsa and I continued on our walk.   Isaac trailed after us at a distance while he continued his call.  He ended his call just as I was about to go inside. He had been talking with his dad.    Lutz came by at that moment.

    I had to make sure Elsa was fed before I got a call from Darby announcing they were ready for pick up at the airport. It all went smoothly. After I dropped them off, I came across Lutz and Isaac standing at the intersection where they would have to part. They must have been talking for close to an hour. I stopped to say hello, made some stupid comment just to participate.  Later as I sat down for dinner, I thought of that scene and smiled. It was a different smile than the one I’ve felt lately.  I used different muscles.  I haven’t had that smile since Mike died. I realized why. Seeing those two boys, Isaac, 21, and Lutz, 58, standing there talking because they enjoyed each other’s company made me think of Mike.

       Mike was childlike; I saw their enjoyment of each other’s company, an irrepressible childlike enthusiasm.  I loved it.  I like the childlike quality in Lutz; unfortunately, it’s heavily laden with ‘look how smart I am.” Too bad. Both Lutz and Isaac are filled with curiosity. If you bring up a topic, their minds will explore it. They’ll come up with new ways of thinking about it I haven’t considered.  These two have become my evening walking companions.  Isaac and I will text each other to say we’re out walking. So far, we just run into Lutz, who makes several trips around the block each night.

Monday, November 22, 2021

 Monday, November 22, 2021

 

   I get tired around 9 pm every night. I try to stay up a little longer, concerned I’ll wake too early in the morning. I sleep very well till 3:30 or 4. That’s after six and a half or seven hours of sleep.  Then staying asleep often becomes a struggle. You’d think I had the common sense to get up, get dressed, and get in my chair to meditate, but no. I struggle to go back to sleep. I try to meditate while in bed.  It’s much harder than when sitting upright. I dozed off. That’s okay. However, during those early morning hours, disturbing thoughts enter my mind, which can throw me off for the rest of the day. After the Sunday NPR shows on meditation, I did much better. It’s like NPR knew what I needed.  Sometimes, I can fall down the rabbit hole. 

   Monday, I had my Reading Office hours.  Four tutors from the Step Up Tutoring problem were scheduled.  Only three showed up.  The first was an older man who had a third grader with attention problems. He even had problems paying attention while playing a game.  I thought that sounded like an anxiety disorder.  I suggested doing a meditation exercise.  See how long they could sit without moving anything, not even a finger or a toe.  I told him to ask the child how he felt afterward.  I remembered sitting still actually hurt. My muscles spasmed. This problem continued until I started meditating.  I completed 10-day silent retreats where I had to sit without moving for 45-minutes. I had to build up to that.

   Another woman came on and described her student as having pronunciation problems.  The student came from a Latino background. At first, the girl denied she even spoke Spanish.  That sounded like a shame issue.  It also sounded like the tutor had already made some progress in this area. The tutor told her she didn’t speak Spanish very well, which helped the student feel her Spanish was valuable. The child then admitted she knew Spanish and helped the tutor with it.  This woman really had no idea what her problem with reading was.  She gave scattered pieces of information, which made it difficult to get a complete picture.  She said she pronounced the vowel letters with a Spanish accent. It sounded like the student didn’t understand that a single letter in English could represent different pronunciations.  The letter A has eight phonically regular ways to be pronounced.  I showed the tutor the list from the Phase I video.  She asked, “How can someone learn the difference?”  I showed her the rules for each of the eight pronunciations. “You wouldn’t teach a student those rules.” In fact, yes. They are explicitly taught.  Finally, it came out that the student could read big words like transition but made all sorts of mistakes on smaller words.  We finally got down to what the problem might be about. This is the most lost tutor I’ve seen so far. She has no idea what to expect and what the student might need help with. The student’s accent was the least of her problems.

    I ran my lecture on the importance of not pushing a change in accent because it teaches the students that they can only learn to read once they speak English correctly. Their knowledge is not good enough. The other participant spoke with a foreign accent and chimed in to confirm what I said. 

  I did some gardening before I took a shower in preparation for tonight’s dinner guests.  I worked on cutting down the blown heliconia.  They have to be cut back, or they look pretty skuzzy. 

  I had adolescent D at 4:30. I asked him if he thought he hadn’t read a word if he had to figure it out, decode it?  Yes. Oh, boy. This means he thinks reading is automatically knowing what a world is.   If he focused on automaticity as his goal and avoided conscious processing, he would never be a good reader. 

       I used his experience with knot tying in the Boy Scouts. If he had to tie the knot slowly, thinking about every move, in the end, was the knot tied? Had he tied the knot?  I explained the difference between conscious processing and automatic processing. While doing something automatically may be a goal, we can still say that we did something even if we had to think about it every step of the way. Good learners know when to use conscious processing versus automatic and how to get conscious processing to become automatic.

   A while ago, he said that there has been no improvement in his reading. He was always able to do what he could do now.  He was able to read some words automatically, maybe 200 words.  Even then, it wouldn’t have been all the words on any one sight word list.  He tested on the first-grade level.  When I started working with him, he still confused the words her and here, and he couldn’t remember the word they from one minute to the next.  I asked him if he thought the only difference between what he did before and now is he knew more words.  I didn’t dare try him on lower-level work to see how he did. I could face his continuing inadequacies; I was concerned he couldn’t. He could decode most of the words in the eighth-grade passage we read. It just took him forever – if he used an adequate decoding procedure.  I have certainly taught him one that works, but he tends to not use it. Drives me nuts. This confirms a theory that some students do the same thing D does; he refuses to decode because that’s not reading. OW!

  Today, I finally started announcing my completed videos to the world.  I posted the announcement I created on FaceBook.  I wanted to start posting it to everyone on my email list. I couldn’t find an address book on Yahoo. There used to be a link listed on the Yahoo site. If there still is one, I couldn’t find it.  I did send it to three teachers that came to mind from Licking Heights, my last teaching job before I retired and moved to Hawaii.  I also tracked down an old principal who taught me a lot about myself as a teacher. He was the one who told me that it was unusual for someone like me to say working with students. Usually, they left the classroom and went to teach at the college level and do research.  I did and do research and develop new ideas. I just don’t do it under the auspicious of a university. I didn’t want those limits. I develop my ideas in response to my students’ needs. In doing so, I often come up with something new.  I’m good at that; I’m an effective teacher.

     When I Googled the name of my old principal, the first thing that came up was an article. He and his son had been in a car accident where the boy was killed, and my old principal had spent time in the hospital.  He was listed as the current principal, but I didn’t know if that was valid.  I should call the school. I sent him a personal email expressing my condolences, thanking him for sharing his insights about me and sending the blurb with information about the videos.

    Watching all those videos with Fosse’s choreography made me want to dance.  I thought I could make those moves.  I chose the finale from the 2002 film Chicago.  That choreography wasn’t Fosse’s; it was Rob Marshall’s, but based on Fosse’s vocabulary. A modification was necessary because neither of the lead actresses was a professional dancer. Zeta-Jones had a background in musicals; Zellweger had only been a cheerleader.  I love the way she moves.   I set my computer up on my bed and tried to copy the moves.  I had trouble on the first eight counts. I was shocked at how limited my movement range was. I could easily have made those moves even in my forties. I tried again. I was better on the second try. I hope I can stick with it, slowly building coordination and range of motion.  I don’t ever hope to look like either of those women. They were in their prime when they did the movie. I checked. They were both thirty-three.  

  Yvette and her friend Scott came up for dinner. Yvette brought a vegetarian pie made by a friend in Hilo. She had been over there for a yoga class with her friend, Jennifer.  Scott bought a small bag of sweet kale salad, my favorite.  The shepherd’s pie was surprisingly good, well-seasoned.

Sunday, November 21, 2021

Sunday, November 21, 2021

 

    I’ve fallen into obsessive thinking.  The good news is that I have more control over my behavior than I did when I was younger.  I can function smoothly when there is something to respond it.  I have learned ways to deal with other people and life circumstances. I couldn’t do that when I was younger. My emotions affected my behavior. Thank God for my forty-five years with Mike.  No, he was not a perfected person.  He was also anxious, maybe more so than I was.  I can only hope that my presence in his life gave him some relief from his fears as his presence did in mine.  

   I had my 9 am Sunday morning session with the M & W sisters. They were still on Oahu visiting their paternal grandmother and a dozen or so cousins. Families here are all good-sized.  When I reread first-grade M’s story this morning to see what revisions I could advise, I discovered that I had misread something she wrote yesterday. I added something from my own mind that wasn’t in the story and tried to get her to clear up the problem.  I told her I had done so and apologized.  I didn’t think she understood what the apology was about, but she did understand an adult said they did something wrong and apologized to her. I made a few suggestions on improving her story, reconciling the tenses and using a complex sentence instead of two simple ones.  She wasn’t interested. I left it as it was.  Her confidence in her ability to write a story is more important than producing what I consider a perfected one. 

  With sister #2, fifth-grade W, we continued applying Phase I. However, I started using eighth-grade material with her. Her comprehension was excellent, even at that level.  When I first started working with fifth grade W, she was uncomfortable. She doesn’t do discipline well.  She felt more relaxed today. This would be great. Her discomfort with much of the work exhausts me.  I want to be clear; there are no problems with her behavior. She is cooperative;, does what I ask her to do. She just hates every minute of it.

        I hope that this application of Phase I will affect her reading as it did mine. When I made the 5 Stories tape, I saw an immediate improvement in my reading speed.  I had just completed my MA in reading with straight As and I had a 760 out of 800 on the Verbal section of the GRE.  Did I mention I was 58?

  Two NPR shows this morning were designed for my needs. Both On Being and New Dimensions had shows on meditation and how to cope with fears and sorrow. Elizabeth Gilbert was on New Dimensions.  She spoke about letting go of hope for the future. It is that I am worried about.  I see coldness and loneliness in my future.  People who can’t relate to me the way I need it.  I was so scared. Gilbert started writing to what she calls love. She started it when she was most desperate. Love answered her right away, saying that it was there, would always be there; she would never be alone.  I sat down, spoke to love, and discovered it wasn’t there.  I believe my parents were passionate about me, their child, as they were about my sister. I felt some love from my father, true delight, and acceptance. However, I never felt that from my mother. She had too many fears, too many agendas.  I can say I felt it from her at the end of her life when she lived with Mike and me for her last eighteen years.  Then I was the one in control, the caretaker.  I felt even as a child, that was what she needed me to be. How does a four-year-old become a loving parent to a disturbed forty-year-old adult?  Mike was my conduit to love, to feeling loved, and to being a loving person.

   The guest on New Dimension, the next show, said she spent much of her life unaware of her fear. She did not realize how much of it was driving her life.  I can remember when I first became aware of fear. I was eighteen years old. My behavior was so off, my psychology professor recommended I get help and referred me to the school psychologist.  The therapist was a jerk in many ways, but she did get me started on the path to self-awareness.  I remember surprising myself by explaining my behavior, saying, “I’m afraid.”  Yes. I was terrified.  Fear has driven most of my life.  My mother was driven by fear. I called her the high priestess of fear.  She embraced it.  I can appreciate it when we get caught in our own paradigm and embrace it as a defining reality.  It’s so hard to get beyond ourselves. 

   As I struggled to get my fear under control in the here and now, I remembered something a colleague of mine said when I was worried about global warming, a new ice age. Eleanor said, “Betty, never worry about the future. It won’t be what you’ve been worrying about anyway.” It may be better, it may be worse, but it won’t be the same.

   I finally had an appointment with fourteen-year-old A from Canada.  His mother knew about me because I worked with her ex-husband, A’s father when he was in high school. The mother and I met face to face twice over the years.  She wanted me to work with him because he had trouble getting his homework done.  I concluded he had problems with logistics; he didn’t think of chores as a series of steps.  Also, he was easily distracted.  The last session left me feeling adrift. He didn’t see he had a problem; how could I help him? I cut that session short. I needed his mom to come in on the session and share her point of view.  Well, she listed three of four problems that had been resolved. He no longer got lost in electronics or his thoughts when he was getting ready in the morning. He proceeded efficiently and was ready when it was time to go. She thanked him for that change. In addition, all his homework was done.  He had even done a lot of it in school.  There was at least one other change.  I went from feeling ineffective to a miracle worker in a few minutes. Lovely.  We decided that additional sessions were unnecessary for now. However, there was another son, a twenty-one-year-old, that was having problems.  This boy is a perpetual victim. He believes everything should go his way; he should be allowed to do what he wants. He’s shocked and hurt when it doesn’t work out that way, a victim.  He believes he should be allowed to be on his phone as much as he likes at work and not be fired. He has lost several jobs because of his behavior and doesn’t get that it’s on him to make the change. I told mom that I have difficulty with people who see themselves only as victims. I find them lethal and unmovable.  If I got frustrated with him, I would have to stop working with him for fear of becoming abusive.  

   If I do work with twenty-one-year-old D, I had the thought of giving him an exercise Buddha gave a grieving mother. Collect a mustard seed from everyone who has never lost someone to death.  In D’s case, collect a seed from everyone who gets exactly what they want at all times. Disappointment is a big part of life. What separates the boys from the men is our ability to deal with it.

    

Saturday, November 20, 2021

 Saturday, November 20, 2021

 

 I had the M & W sisters first thing in the morning.  I used to work with them during the week. Then they got involved in sports activities that had them practicing in the afternoons after school.  Since mom wanted to keep it at an hour and a half a week, she scheduled them for Friday afternoon and Saturday and Sunday mornings.

   I used to have first grade M reading and rereading the Carpenter stories for low-level readers to build up her sight recall and her confidence. Today I wanted to apply Phase I of the Phonics Discovery System to 2nd-grade material.  I also wanted to write another story with her.  I gave her a choice between story writing, going back to the Carpenter materials, or working on the 2nd-grade level.  I told her it was her choice. There was one I preferred, but I wanted her to choose what she wanted. She hesitated. Then she announced she wanted to work on the ‘names.’  ‘Names’ is what she calls a story she wrote a while ago that I used to do Phase I.  I thought it was too hard for her. There were several two-syllable words in it. The second-grade material is lower.   This was perfect. My concern is moving ahead learning how to decode words. This was fine. 

   We did some story writing too.  M came out with one line, “The cat went to the pond with her friend.”   I don’t remember what prompted her to say this, but I saw it as a great opening line for a story. She was able to write from her imagination today, writing a more complex story.  I have found co-writing an excellent method for helping students develop their imagination and verbal expression skills.

    Up to now, I have had 5th grade W just read regularly formatted text. I thought she needed practice, and that’s it.  She made enough errors as she went along that I switched her from reading standard text to transcribed text, with the word broken up into syllables and phonemes.  It improved her reading. Today, I started the process of having her transcribe the words with me.  I was shocked.  She had extensive Orton Gillingham training. Yet, she had difficulty separating the vowels from the following consonants.  They were merged units in her mind.  Yes, viewing them as merged units is a goal. However, I have discovered that if you want to improve your reading accuracy and speed, you have to go back to Phase I, identifying each phoneme in each word.  How do I know that?  I recorded five stories, phoneme by phoneme.  When I was finished, I saw an immediate increase in my reading speed.  I was shocked. I realized the sense of it.  Professional musicians practice the foundational elements of music, the scales. They will practice for one or two hours a day. This is how they hone their skills.

     When I met with adolescent D later in the day, we continued with the copying activity.  He did pretty well. He described the ‘trick’ he used when copying text. He would collect what he could and then look up.  I’m pushing him to collect letters not by the number he thinks he can hold in his mind but by patterns to reinforce his word decoding skills.  Earlier this week, he claimed he didn’t read the words as he wrote them.  As he was doing the writing, it was obvious that he did read the words. He would say them before he wrote them.  His lack of awareness of himself and the world around him is stunning to me.  He really believes his classmates don’t know he had trouble reading.  I asked his teacher. She said they absolutely do.  The boys take care of him, actively help him when they think he’s stuck. It’s evident from their behavior, and D still doesn’t recognize the reality.  I don’t know how much of this is emotionally driven, avoidance, versus cognitively. Does he have a neurological problem?  

    When I told him he had read the passage well, he said no.  He pointed out five words he hadn’t been able to read.  I accepted his opinion at the time. Later, I thought, “He did read those words. Several he decoded on his own.”  Did he not consider it reading when he had to figure out the word? Does he think he has only ‘read’ a word when it has spontaneously popped into his mind without conscious effort?  I can imagine that I have other students who think that way too.

   I’m spending a lot of time alone and enjoying it.  I work on the updates and blog entries, and I do some housekeeping and gardening. I watched YouTube videos, so far, mainly about Bob Fosse’s work.  I love watching rehearsals, watching performers learn the dances.  They make mistakes and start again.  It would be good for me to learn some of the Fosse dances. He’s right up my alley.  He had no turnout, hip flexibility. I didn’t suffer from his other problem, which influenced his dance vocabulary; I’m not bald.  His dances involve small moves. The challenge is the isolation and impulses for the moves.  I could have done reasonably well when I was young. Dance training is about learning to isolate muscles, moving one body part while not moving a neighboring one.  I never had the extension of his dancers. Apparently, he didn’t have a good extension either.  While it is easy to learn some version of his choreography, making it look good is a whole other kettle of fish.

 

Friday, November 19, 2021

 Friday, November 19, 2021

 

   I had a bad night’s sleep.  I have been worrying about the Rittenhouse trial.  While I believe this seventeen-year-old naïf deserves compassion, the problem is how would a seventeen-year-old black boy have been treated in a similar situation.

  I learned the police did spot Rittenhouse standing there waving that gun around and gave him a thumbs up.    Now, what if there had been a seventeen-year-old black boy standing there with an assault rifle?  Any bets?  Do you think- well, that’s different? Really, why. They are both seventeen-year-old boys with assault rifles. What’s the difference?  The black boy was there to protect lives, the lives of the protestors, not just property but lives.  Do you feel differently about the black boy’s intent than Rittenhouse’s?  Why? If the police stopped that black boy, what do you think they thought? Felt? Would have done?   

   Rittenhouse cried on the stand.  He was scared. No black boy will cry; they are trained not to. Why do you think black parents teach their children not to cry, no matter what? Does that mean the black boy was less scared?

    Would the judge have been as open to giving a black boy a way out as he was Rittenhouse?  It’s not that I think Rittenhouse should have been treated worse. I don’t. He was a child. He didn’t have the brain development to make a wise decision. He saw himself as a hero without thinking the situation through. Yes, the three people who pursued him made threats.  However, no one would have been killed if he hadn’t had that gun.  

    According to the Internet, a seventeen-year-old cannot buy a gun. This means that his parents should be sued.  He is both their legal responsibility because he was under eighteen, and he used their gun. Either that assault rifle wasn’t locked up, or they gave it to him, knowing what he was going to do.  Their brain development was complete. They can be charged with negligent homicide. 

   I’m sure some people will read this when it is posted on the blog next year who feel that blacks should be treated differently from whites. After all, everyone knows that blacks are. .. . . . . . , and whites aren’t. Should there be any question, I am for equality under the law. 

   I woke up to the news that Rittenhouse was acquitted on all counts.  I have one question. I’m sure someone knows the answer to this. I can’t believe the prosecution overlooked it.  I saw a picture of someone carrying an assault rifle. It’s long.  How can someone shoot someone in the body if they are grabbing for the rifle? If the rifle is pointed down when someone grabbed for it,  the shooter couldn’t get it up that high. Maybe he’d have shot someone in the foot or the knee, but it wouldn’t have been lethal.  If he was pointing the rifle at his assailants, they would have directed away from themselves when they grabbed for the gun.

   I wonder if the adult Rittenhouses are proud of their son or distressed for him?  Do they consider him a hero, or do they realize the trauma he’s experienced and how this will affect him for the rest of his life? Do they care?  Is killing people they disagree with their top priority?

   When I went out for one of my short periodical walks, I found the plastic container troth I put out for the pigs and turkey had been shattered. Given the timing and the distribution of the parts, it seems unlikely it was done by a pig.  Paulette came driving by when I discovered it. She pulled over at my request.  She said she had seen it intact when she left an hour ago. Pigs, the only animal big enough to break it, are nocturnal.  They wouldn’t have come out in the heat of the afternoon.  Also, the smaller pieces were scattered over a 10-foot range. No way a pig would have done that.  The pig would have broken it by stepping in it; all the pieces would have been over a small area.  Someone must have driven over it. Accident or deliberate?  I certainly hope the former.  

    I had the W & M sisters. I started with first grade M as I always do.  I was concerned about her. I had done visualization work to release her fear of making mistakes. She had a reaction I had never seen before.  She felt the exercise increased her fear. Yet today, I thought she was more relaxed, exploring possible answers and making mistakes as she learned. Indeed, not where I would like her to be.  If someone is terrified of making mistakes, it blocks learning. Good learners love to explore and learn from their mistakes. I asked her what she wanted to work on. I told her I had a preference, but I would be happy to do what she wanted to do. I work to teach student agency over their learning experiences. I wanted to apply The Phonics Discovery System I & II to second-grade material.  She said she wanted to work on “the names.”  This refers to a story she wrote that I was using to do the Phonics Discovery System. Okay. Great, in fact.  The session was relaxing and fun for me.

    However, after half an hour with her sister, fifth grade W, I felt exhausted.  She hates the work, all the work.  Because she once disparaged her efforts because the work was ‘easy,’ I have concluded she believes if she is not miserable while working, she’s not doing anything worthwhile.  Ow!  Today I had her reading transcribed material.  Up to now, we have just been using untranscribed material (Transcribed: t-r-a-n-s/c-r-i-b-ed; untranscribed: transcribed). Working with her is agony for me.  This is new. I have worked with difficult students my whole career.  I find it interesting.  I watch them the way fishermen watch the end of the fishing line.  It’s relaxing. Now, I writhe. This can’t possibly be all her fault.  Where has my patience gone? My fascination?  Is this because I’m through wanting to work with individual students? Do I only want to work teaching people who to use the process?  Or are my nerves shot because of my loss, Mike’s death in 2019, and the extraordinary worldwide political and economic situation? Certainly, these are all stressors.  It’s still upsetting.  I have time to take on more students. I don’t want to. 

Thursday, November 18, 2021

 Thursday, November 18, 2021

 

    My leg has been feeling weak the past couple of days. This too will pass -or it won't. Then back to the drawing board. I think it is coming from the changes in my back. Both my legs feel weak. No one says I need a hip replacement in my right leg. 

   I got my Moderna booster shot today. They're well organized at Kaiser.  I had an appointment, so it wasn't a free-for-all.  It was all over quickly. I'll be spending Thanksgiving with the unvaccinated.  It will be outdoors; there will get great breezes up there.  It shouldn't be a problem, but I want to be on the safe side.

   I saw a post on Facebook by an old student of mine who is now the mother of two. Her youngest, an elementary school-age girl, contracted Covid and is suffering from heart problems.  I knew that the vaccine could cause heart problems. Winds up Covid can, too, even in the young.  Choosing between the two on some issues is settled by going: eeny, meany, miny moe.  Your guess is as good as mine.  However, I believe the death rate is still much higher when it comes to the disease.  Although I think some people believe the Covid statistics are all lies. Oh, well. I know any is possible.  I went with the statical likelihood that the government does not have that much control over the media-yet, and it would have to be a worldwide conspiracy. I don't think we're that organized.

     I emailed my primary doctor at Kaiser for this persistent lousy feeling. I feel it is largely due to a nasty bout of grief. It comes and goes. It's not that I ever forget, but sometimes I do better with just getting on with my life. There's plenty to do.  I have friends, and I have work. I have a lovely home, and I live in Hawaii. Pretty close to perfect.  

     Brian and Tommy came over to hard-wire the remaining appliances:  the Solar Edge solar panel monitoring app, and then they realized they had to do the same with the Tesla app.  I had texted Brian this morning to tell him the Solar Edge was still out.  He reminded me that he promised to be by today to fix that problem.  I forgot his promise. This is what I've been feeling like, less than sharp. I apologized. My excuse is grief. Grief can be debilitating. It is exhausting. 

    Scott stopped by to pick up Yvette's shoebox that someone on Craig's list had bought.  I had him look at my screens and the plastic I purchased to cover the opening when the screens are in the shop for repair. He will be the one taking them down and helping me get them in the car.  I was under the impression my screens were about seven feet by four feet.  He said these screens were fourteen feet across with a support bar in the middle.  I told him I didn't think so. I washed them all when the painters took them out.  I didn't have to deal with such a large screen.  He then figured out the two sections snapped together; they looked like they were one screen. 

     I washed Elsa today.  I missed Saturday a week ago. She went two weeks between baths. She started throwing lesions on her abdomen.  When I gave her the flea protection, she threw more on that spot and on her neck.   I decided to wash her twice this week, once today and once on Sunday, and then return to my every Saturday routine if the problem clears.

   I worked on my ad for my The Phonics Discovery System videos. I plan to post it on Facebook and to everyone in my email address book. You'll probably get a second copy when I do.

 

 Here's a copy of it:

        Here are two videos demonstrating my method for teaching phonics through discovery, The Phonics Discovery System Phase I ((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yy93zNI8Fw8; )

 and The Phonics Discovery System Phase II (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Egkh-a7adYc)

 

       Many of you already know that I had success teaching your students with this method.  Recently, I have been teaching this approach to tutors who are untrained in any teaching methods. After an hour of instruction, several have felt comfortable enough to use it with their students.  A few have gotten back to me to report success.   Below is a series of three emails I received from one of the tutors.   For those of you who have methods for teaching phonics you are happy with, this method can be incorporated a few minutes a week and have success. 

    NO new materials are required. You can use the students' names, sight words, or any text the students can understand. You can incorporate the process into your current phonics lessons.

   The foundation of the method is learning phonics through discovery so students can become independent learners.  When they achieve that approach to learning, they can learn anything.  It does not eliminate traditional methods of teaching phonics. While it can be used almost exclusively, I think of it as a complement to the conventional approaches.

 

Tutor emails:

Sent: Tuesday, September 7, 2021, 01:17:11 PM HST

Subject: thank you!

 

Hi, Betty --  

 

       Thank you again for your "office hours" help yesterday.  I had my first session with Elijah this afternoon, and it was definitely productive.  

        I found your videos on YouTube (The Phonics Discovery System Five Stories: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0InNt2c8oFw&t=499s).  

I'm sure no one will play that "full video" for Ezra, but I listened to it myself as I was puttering around the house for about 15 minutes yesterday. You're right -- it did heighten my awareness of how words are comprised, and I think I brought that usefully into my tutoring this afternoon.

      Anyway, I'm quite appreciative.

                                                                                                Best, Harry

 

Sent: Tuesday, September 21, 2021, 03:48:39 PM HST

Subject: Re: thank you!

 

Hi, Betty --

        I just wanted to follow up and tell you that my 3rd grader, who couldn't read at all a couple of weeks ago, read a book today.  It was a 1st-grade book --  but it was a book, and he did it.  

        Amazing progress.  Thank you again.

                                                                                                     -- Harry

 

Sent: Thursday, November 11, 2021, 06:41:40 PM HST

Subject: Re: thank you!

 

Hi, Betty --

         I don't know if you recall working with me a couple of months ago, but I had a student who was turning 9 and could only read about 10-15 "sight words" and couldn't do anything beyond that.  You were a great help, as my notes below suggest.

         Today his mother reported that his teacher says the student has caught up to the rest of his class and now raises his hand and wants to get called on to read.  You can imagine how thrilled we all are. It's a little sad in that it suggests his class is reading well below 3rd-grade level... but it's a great success in that my student had no confidence or expectation that he'd ever been able to do it, and in just a few months has come to feel like he can hold his own.

          So thank you again, on my behalf and his.

                                                                                                                                                Best, Harry

 

  I had a 3 pm appointment with third grade A. I have him working on 3rd-grade material. He still has problems with word recognition, but he does all right with comprehension, at least inferring the paragraph's main point. His mother told me they want to talk to me about what the teacher feels he still needs. That was over a week ago.   I have asked her repeatedly to play the Five Stories video for him. She makes excuses: too busy. I often think of quitting because of her lack of cooperation.  I can't guarantee the audiofile The Phonics Discovery System-Five Stories will help, but if it doesn't harm her son, why wouldn't she press the play button.  I have similar problems getting A to follow directions. Now, mom has no learning problems. She has three master's degrees under her belt.

    I started adolescent D with the copying activity, teaching him how to collect letters in his mind, hold them there and then write them.  He did reasonably well; then, he reversed some of the letters. He said, yes, he often writes letters out of order. I asked him if there were visual perceptual disturbances soon after we started working together. He said definitely not. I find younger children very aware if they have problems like that.  I don't know if D's lack of self-awareness is indicative of an individual problem or if it is just typical of kids his age.  I had him describe the movement pattern. 

     D's perceptual disturbance pattern had some familiar elements and one that was new for me.  The familiar elements were the movement direction.  His disturbance was in a spiral pattern, moving from the outside in in a counterclockwise direction.  Unexpected was where he processed visual images; his area of disturbance was above the left temple. I believe the best area for visual processing material is in front of the forehead. Moreover, his spiral didn't increase or decrease in speed; the speed remained constant in his case.  

   While I have been feeling untypically nervous and cranky in many of my tutoring sessions, I found this session with D delightful. I was calm and happy. It's like a spontaneous mood shift.  I could have been cranky with either student.  The crankiness I've been feeling while teaching is unusual.  I always enjoy teaching; I approach it like a fisherman watching for fish in the stream. It's a form of meditation for me.  This increased nervousness is disturbing.

   I called Matthew, the head of the special education department at the local middle school.  I had an idea for some work to do with one of his students.  He is in middle school and still has to make marks when he adds two numbers. This student also has trouble reading. Matthew says he is a good kid, anxious to learn.  I created an 11 x 11 frame for him. I instructed Matthew to write the numbers 0 through 10 in one of the edge columns. Then have the boy fill in the number of squares represented by the number.  Once he can do it quickly in sequence, Matthew should change the exercise, filling the numbers in random order. The objective is to strengthen the association between the abstract numeral and the concrete quantity.  One year I used this approach with a second grader with William's Syndrome, a genetic disorder that affects a student's ability to understand math, among other problems.  The child hated, hated, the process. Every day I gave her the form; in her case, the numbers were always in sequence.  The following year, when she was in third grade, she was able to do the math.  I can't believe she could keep up with the grade-level lessons, but she miraculously could do more.  I thought it was worth a try with this middle school child after reading how the brain develops the connection between the abstract and concrete. 

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

 Wednesday, November 17, 2021

  

    In the middle of the night, my left psoas spasmed.  If it had been on the right side, I would have been concerned it was appendicitis. I didn’t panic; I just waited. It passed.  Yesterday, I had a PT appointment. She did myofascial release on my abdominal muscles. I had another PT do something like this on me. I made a huge difference. I realized this morning this PT was doing cranial sacral work on me.  This is fantastic!  

    There was no internet connection again this morning. I reread my update entry from November 16, 2020 but couldn’t run it through Grammarly or post it without an internet connection. Given that I had to make a presentation that evening, this was not good. It was getting annoying. If the boys can’t figure out how to fix this, I may have to go back to Spectrum.  

   I stopped off on my way to town to pick up a copy of my TB test results at Kaiser.  No, the principal didn’t suggest I bring in another copy. I wasn’t sure I could get one.  I called Kaiser yesterday, and they told me I just had to go to the registration desk and ask for one.  The clerk said, “I can only print out your whole vaccine record.”  Okay. I had nothing to hide.  

   I continued to my Cryotherapy appointment. Yvette recommended it. She and Josh were doing it and loved the results.  I had one previous appointment. I only had a local treatment that day to see how I felt about it. Nikki worked on a small area of my back that day. It helped with the inflammation.  Today, I was trying the whole-body treatment. It required me to be naked except for a pair of underpants, socks, and gloves.  She gave me a bathrobe which I handed to her once I got in the tank. It’s a vertical cylinder with a door. I stepped inside and passed her my robe.  She raised the platform I was standing on, so my head was outside.  The therapist told me she hated the treatment, and she does it daily when she can because it does her so much good. During her first session, she kept moving. Some people only move every fifteen seconds.  I kept moving to be on the safe side. I didn’t find it particularly cold.  The treatment is brief, only -is it three minutes or five minutes?   I needed help getting out. She had to get a stool for me to step on.  All this took time. She had to take my skin temperature.  It was 58⁰. She said it was probably that high because she couldn’t measure it the moment I got out.  It was only then she told me that my constant movement reduced the impact of the treatment.  I didn’t feel any difference from the treatment except for a lovely calm that came over me as I walked to my car.  I’m game to give it several more tries before I decide against it. I hoped it would help me feel better while dealing with my grief and all the stress from the social and political chaos worldwide, particularly here in the USA. 

  I thought of the cold in Madison, Wisconsin winters.  My last year there, it was 600 below zero with the windchill factor. I was used to it. My sister also studied there. She remembers one day when she walked up the hill to Bascom Hall. By the time she got there, every hair on her legs was frozen. I bet her skin temperature was below 46⁰, an ideal temperature goal.  All Wisconsin residents must have been very healthy.   

    I went to Ace Hardware Picked up plastic sheeting to cover the openings when my 4’ x 7’ screens would be in the shop. Then I went to Island Naturals to get vitamins.  I told the stem cell doctor that I felt lousy and mentally weird, easily disoriented, and forgetful. He said, “Are you taking your vitamins?”  I have a relative that people suspect had some short-term problems. The doctor recommended Vit. B 12 for him.  It made me imagine that I’m not getting enough Vit. B at all. I wanted to buy an iodine-free One a Day supplement and some extra Vit B.   

I got some help from one of the Island Natural’s staff. When I told him I was looking for an iodine-free pill, I got quite a lecture. He told me how vital iodine is.  When I came home, I looked up iodine allergy.  It said people are not allergic to iodine; it is some additional chemical that triggers the allergy. My allergy first showed up in hard-shelled seafood.  I’m sure there are other chemicals there. However, I had the same reaction when I took two one-a-day pills.  I got that particular type of nausea I associate with the allergy.  I like salt.  Recently, I didn’t separate some pretzels from the remaining loose salt at the bottom of the container.  I had an immediate reaction.  The only constant in all these items is iodine.  I don’t get it. Nor do I care to risk it.  When I was a kid, my mom would make scallops with red cabbage. I always got nauseous when she made that meal.  I associated it with the red cabbage because it was a stronger smell. 

On the way home, I stopped at the middle school to drop off the TB test results. I didn’t want to use a valuable business envelope; I grabbed one of the Christmas cards I got from some charity or another with a Santa Claus on it.  I wanted something clearly marked I could put in the principal’s mailbox.  When I walked in, I saw a woman I had seen before. She was never sitting in the reception area. I knew her from the elementary school.  I wasn’t sure who she was. I asked, “Are you the principal?” Yes. Ah, she must have been an assistant principal in the elementary school.  I handed her the record sheet, telling her the TB results were on the bottom of the page.  She thanked me and said sorry; she would process my application. How long now? Another month?

   Mama K texted to say she had to take Twin E to the dentist. Could we cancel? You’d better believe it.  I had to get ready for the workshop I was presenting.  I had been thinking about it like my Reading Office hours, requiring no preparation. Julia wrote to tell me she was thrilled I was making another presentation; they were advertising it.  Yikes! I spent the rest of the day organizing it. 

   I had an appointment with Adolescent D.  Did he do any reading today in school? No. Did he do any writing? Yes. He copied questions. What!!!?  That means you read something. No. I didn’t read those words as I wrote them. What!!!??? Is that even possible? You didn’t read a single word. I don’t think so.  Holy cow!  No, I don’t think he’s lying. I think he lives at that level of inattention to himself and the world around him.  I made my plans for the next lesson. I was interested in knowing his copying procedure. Did he copy letter by letter, looking up to see the next letter after he had written one?  Did he collect letters in his working memory before he wrote? If so, how many?

   The presentation was no big deal.  There were only four people who were not involved with organizing it.  The two organizers had already had a session with me. One of the remaining four announced that she had attended one of my Reading office hours. She had used my method with great success. Apparently, there had been a snafu with the announcement.  My big concern was time. I completed my spiel in under 45 minutes.  I felt comfortable skimming over some ideas and referring people to the videos for more information.  Something good came out of the workshop. I was able to push Tommy into compiling the Phase II video and uploading it to YouTube.  He’s been dragging his feet on this. One excuse after another. He’s twenty-three. That I needed it to support the presentation, put a fire under him, and he got it done.  Sometimes, I need a little heat myself to get things done.

       Isaac joined me for our evening walk. We ran into Lutz, as we often do.  He does his long walk at that time of night. Lutz and Isaac fell into a conversation about chemistry. I learned that Isaac was studying pre-med. He really did know chemistry inside and out.  It was fun listening to them, even though I had no idea what they were talking about. I interrupted them to tell them my chemistry story.

    I took chemistry in my junior year of high school.  I was failing. I didn’t have a clue.  I have since learned that some people like biology and algebra, and some like chemistry and geometry. I’m a biology/algebra girl. I barely hung on in geometry. But the only way I passed chem was because the teacher cheated.  I had been getting Ds and Fs on tests. Then one came back with a solid C. I was thrilled.  I sat in class, seeing if he missed any points. He did; something like 20, but they were all points he added to my grade. I didn’t earn them.  I was an honest kid. I went up to the teacher after class. “Mr. Snyder, you made a mistake on my test.” He didn’t look up. He just said, “No, I didn’t.”  with tears in my eyes, I said, “Yes, you did. Please, look.” He said, “Go away.” I got it.  My dad had died the spring before. There is a good chance all the teachers knew it and were looking out for me. 

   Tonight, I had to tell Isaac that Judy couldn’t handle two more people at the Thanksgiving dinner table.  Isaac was alone here volunteering at a church school.  I have no idea why someone from the church hadn’t invited him for Thanksgiving dinner, but they hadn’t.  Judy agreed to include him at her table.  Then I found out that a friend of Isaac’s would be arriving on Thanksgiving Day.  One person was going to make things tight around the table; two people was just too much. At least Isaac won’t be alone.  Judy is talking about cooking them a Thanksgiving dinner for two.

    I watched some Offspring.  I do love this show. I learned that it was award-winning show in Australia.  I can easily believe that.