Does Getting What You Want Make You Happier?

This gym/cafeteria was subterranean? There was a bump out that is not pictured to the right where the kitchen was, and the milk coolers were where the 2 yellow tables are.

I always thought things would have turned out better if, at one critical juncture in time, my family had zigged instead of zagged. I never really had the ability to know this to be true, I just assumed this from age 11 until just recently. Now, come to find out, maybe not...

See, I grew up in a fairy tale. Or in a Laura Ingalls Wilder novel. With wishing wells and water wheels and orchards and bobwhites. And then, I moved. To Cleveland. Ohio. In 1979. Body hair. Body odor. Lots of stuff happening with the body. And, simultaneously, moody. This must be Cleveland's fault! So, Cleveland was thrown under the bus pretty quickly. But, there was a rural quality to where I lived, and some amenities, and it had an amazing amusement park just nearby. I mean, we saw license plates from MICHIGAN there in Cedar Point! MICHIGAN!

Fast forward one year. I get a 12th birthday card from someone in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Mom, do I know anyone in Grand Rapids, Michigan? Yes, Lin, your dad. Oh, huh... I guess I'll put it on the pile...

Now, fast forward a number of decades. My mother is sick and dying in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I am there for her last breath. A year later, I am back in the fairy tale, back in Walnut Grove. I am being taken over by my mother, completely. I can feel her entering my body and mind in the forest with the birds. I am healing.

My fairy tale had some scary elements that I glossed over. I made a scene in 3rd grade on the bus, and I have been fearing my anger ever since. That set me on a course of regret and mistakes that would take a lifetime to overcome. But, I had many models. First was Mom. And the second was Laura Ingalls.

There is a fine line, it turns out, between historic nostalgia, and, we need to be careful to not gloss over this, indoctrinating anachronisms. So, I thought my elementary was "homey colonial", which is true. It is also true that it is not well maintained.

Four-square behind them authentic from my era, at least

I think there used to be a mosaic here, past the library and the 6th grade classroom. Pied piper?

Those closets used to have doors and you would hide in there during games.

The sink where my BFF and I filled our mouths with water and then tried to talk.

Those stall door supports were just within reach if you stepped onto the toilets.

Flooring from at least my era. Probably 1930s.

Drainpipe now cordoned off, and I think it was then, too. But...

Hopscotch now painted instead of carved with a slate stone.

Okay, if there were hundreds of children outside nearly killing themselves, you probably wouldn't notice me at the top half of this drainpipe for a while, either

These were the first grade classrooms with a view towards the kindergarten?

A great wall to play rattlesnake on.

Right side of building.

This must be the kindergarten room. Bathroom door was thick oak. I sat at the table behind the cardboard. Other door went to 1st? Closet?

So, that hill with the orange cones and chain link fence? I'd pick up speed there and crash into the parked bus.

The view if you were leaving on the bus.

The gym? No idea.

In my day, those balls were made of actual, red rubber and were none too soft!

I ended up in a faraway land, pre-internet, pre-social media, back when we had to either write letters or make toll calls. I returned here exactly once, in between Cleveland and Grand Rapids. I felt I no longer belonged there and that I had abandoned my friends. We had all moved on in one short year. I had changed; they were still the same. My elementary school and my friends were stuck in time...

Then, my cousin took me back in the late 90s. She did a news report on a Christmas tree farm. I don't remember how we got there, we must have gone in backwards or something, but there I was, looking at the giant Christmas tree that we planted as a seedling. And then, finally, once again this year, Christmas tree now gone, key neighbors still there?!?! The house is renumbered. I met the owner, who was a young mother. I told her we used to keep baby birds and tadpoles in teacups in her garage. She humored me. Then, I moved on.

And now, I am reconnecting with people from those bicentennial days! And, you know what? Puberty was not Cleveland's fault. Finding one's way through life is hard, whether you stay in one place or move all around. Moodiness is not on Grand Rapids. It was just a convenient scapegoat.

I had a great childhood and I was very impressive as a girl. And things went down the way they did. I accept that now. It helped make me who I am, and I am quite impressive!

Easy Ugly Sweater Tutorial - 3D Moose Wearing Glasses

Let's try something different today and make a post ahead of time. Let's plan for the holidays. Ugly sweater day. You know it's right around the corner. Well, here's an idea:

Why not make a Moose Shirt! With over-extended antlers, and plushy, 3D features such as giant googly eyes, soft pompom nose, and antler base bling! 

So, to create this ridiculous look, you will need:

• Brown fabric paint/pink sparkle ears
• Red pompom
• Stiff brown and green felt
• Tongue depressors or other wide, long flat wooden thing for antler support
• Giant googly eyes
• Fabric glue
• Random matching headband as inspo

You know what to do! Let's get to it!

The Criminals Are the Ones Going After Teachers

Once upon a time, it was a given that if you were at all capable of teaching, you received your one satisfactory observation each year, ending the year with an ever so carefree, satisfactory overall for the year. But then, someone said, wait, if so many schools are failing and yet every teacher or nearly so is satisfactory, well, that doesn't compute. Never mind free-will and oppositional defiance common to teens and ever-deteriorating influences! No! There was ONE study ONE TIME, never replicated, that showed a relation between teacher effectiveness and student achievement. It's the teachers' fault!

So, it’s the teachers that bear the onus of turning an educational corner while guiding students and parents from every corner of the planet, most experiencing turmoil in one way or another, while negotiating a new observation system that balances teaching to a rubric with high-stakes testing data. If you add an administrator breathing down your neck, exploiting every opportunity to deduct points from your rating and gives you zero credit for what you are doing, and, yeah, party’s over.

Technical jargon portion: The rating system that the "Great Thinkers" of government decided upon, currently has a matrix to determine what rating a teacher would get based on their observations, now known as "Measures of Teacher Practice" or "MOTP", and students' scores, now known as "Measures of Student Learning". Boy, do I want the job of naming these things! Someone has that job! Notice that it is possible to get a MOTP rating of "Ineffective" and a MOSL score of "Highly Effective". Yes, that is a possibility that the Great Thinkers anticipated! But, that means that students scored well on the state test in their ineffective teacher's subject. How can a teacher be teaching at an ineffective or developing level but her students show growth? Someone please explain this!

But, that never happens, right? Well, no, it does. I know of what I speak. And, it happens year after year after year. I know this, too.

So, either the determination of the MOSL is defective, or the assessment of teaching is. But, no matter how byzantine and secretively the MOSL is calculated, one thing you can say:

it is numbers in a formula that is empirical and non-manipulatable.

Now, it is this same observation system that came out in 2014 and was immediately met with practical questions, like, how do teachers that teach gym, the arts, specialized classes, etc, get a measure of student learning. The answer was, we'll test the students. The next year, they stopped using the MOSL entirely, and then the following year, rather than test each subject to tie the MOSL to each teacher, teachers were now to chose a test they'd like to use, instead. Teachers could choose a certain demographic in their school and a test that is given by the state. This means that a senior journalism teacher could select the 6th grade SWD math test if she taught in a 6-12 school. Kind of a mess, but you're still with me?

Now let's talk about the MOTP. This was first implemented, in 2014, based on the 20 component, 4 domain Danielson rubric. The very next year, it was streamlined to 8 components in 4 domains. Those teachers who still have groups that take the state test (basically ELA and Math teachers in grades 3-8, and science in 4th and 8th), received advisory scores, as well, using their students' growth, as in 2014. Student surveys were supposed to be included in the ratings, but that never happened, although school's did pilot giving the surveys.

In other words, they rolled out a new system without a great deal of feedback or forethought, and have been patching it ever since. But, still, there are problems integral to it.

Somehow, the geniuses in District 24, at the time, all math masters, had my MOTP on the decline, while my MOSL was climbing. How? Well, that is a story for another day. Strap in, baby cakes, I'm about to explain why.

New Bedroom Rug

I love the size, I love the colors, I love 
the ocean theme.

It has sparkle!

And my final coup de ville for the bedroom, the rug refresh. So, it is a poorly advertised fact that I like to take trash to treasure. And, so, now Manhattan is coming to Queens, and Queens trash is pretty bougie recently. Take last Thursday, for example. I scored a rolling tri-level cart for Tootie Pie's room, and what looked to be a knock-off Claire Murray! With shimmer. Into the car they went. Too late, yet again, to claim the crystal lamp, alas! 

Now, after lugging and unfolding, we discover why this gem was cast aside. A cat added texture, let's say... So now I need to decide between 3 options:

1) Leave as is because it will be under bed

2) Get crochet hook and start pulling from the back

3) Cut flush on front and hope for best?

Which option seems the most worthwhile? 

So, what on earth was this beauty doing
in the trash? Well, there's this...

How to Exterminate the Y-chromosome or Why We Need Science Education

Not recommended

Here is a poorly advertised fact: Women have the technology to wipe out the Y-chromosome. Uh-huh, yes. You see, when a sperm meets an egg, well, sometimes that sperm is X, male, and sometimes Y, female. The male ones get off to an early lead, but then they wear out, and women start to catch up to the point that it's a photo finish every time! Henry VIII really was very misguided; males determine the gender of offspring, currently. Unless... There is no more 50/50 even split any longer. Meaning, we take one woman's egg, and another woman's egg, put them together and each time, you get XX, female. So, It's within the realm of possibility. It's an option. I guess men could technically merge two sperm to get a supermale, but where will they incubate him? That tech isn't invented yet. So, knowing that, I have a few suggestions for improving the gender equality in language. Let's start with pussy, k? Pussy means weak, girly, effeminate. Balls means tough, rugged, manly. But, can we analyze these terms? Which one is stronger, a tiny canal that can accommodate a major cruise ship, or something so tender that they invented the jock strap before the helmet, people? Way before. So, from now on, when someone takes a risk, we're going to say "Wow, she's got a vagina!", and when someone cowers in fear, they are being a fucking ball. Just one, lopsided ball. What do we think? So, men, watch yourselves! Better put some research into that human incubator, and, bonus, we can do away with childbirth! And, honey, think!

So undainty!

Now, how to avoid this? Because, Lord knows we don't want to eradicate the word CONSENT from our language, nevermind the forever useless NON-CONSENT. Really, like you need to be explicitly told that you explicit consent? Really? Because we can avoid taking such drastic measures, but there are a few rules we need to abide by:

Rule #1 - abolish the term "pussy" to indicate weak or inferior. The new word is "ball" or "ballsac". See above

Rule #2 - Equal pay. NOW!

Rule #3 - Hands off my body. If a life cannot be sustained without a womb, then it isn't a life, is it?

Any more things to add, dear readers?

Night Side Table Refurbish

Tootie Pie's Gloucester, England, handmade, stained glass sunrise. Handmade by Tootie Pie. Obviously, still some wood gluing and paint matching still on to-do list.

I get to walk around my neighborhood now, and of course, there is much to discover. Like, this cute little black wall table that has inlaid mother-of-pearl and hand-painted detailing. 

Pretty dirty when I first found her. But, to find such beauty tossed casually aside! So I washed it off with soap and water and looked like this when it dried. 

What I think happened is those small, hand-painted flowers smeared across the surface? So, after taking off the support, I took out the trusty bottle of TSP, and then it looked like this:

Now we're starting to see potential. Now to add gloss. First, a nice rub down with wood oil, then linseed.