Isn't America Great?

These do not count as

dollhouses, in my mind

I bought my daughter's first dollhouse as a kit for Christmas.  Well, first, if you don't count the My Little Pony house that features a musical toilet, but technically that's a ponyhouse, right?  And, we're not counting the Polly Pocket homes, of which we had two, because, um, those are Polly houses?  Oh!  Technically one's a hotel, and the other is described as an apartment, so...  Anyhow, once I was need deep in mini-home construction aggravations, the neighborhood girls said they had something for L.  This something turned out to be two Barbie houses, plus this and this.  Then, just this week, I found another Barbie house on the side of the road, with furniture!  

When I bought the doll house kit, I joked with the woman who sold it to me that if my family had to live in a small home, then our dolls would have to, as well.  So the original plan was to have one small 1':1" dollhouse.  But aquired Barbie houses tend to be around 4' tall, and in a house with a 16'x30' footprint, one of these large play homes is plenty.  There was no way we were going to have three.  So, we played dollhouse shuffle yesterday: the dollhouse that we kept in our house went to Oma's, the one at Oma's went to our friend, and the Malibu Dream home is now in our basement.  

I have remarked on how I find just the things I'm looking for on the street.  I also find a great many things that I don't need, but that doesn't stop me from keeping it anyhow.  I believe that when you form an idea of what you want, it comes to you.  I suppose I am quite good at dreaming up material things that I need.  I need to change focus to the more important things in life that I need.  So, now, where is that six foot tall Norwegian doctor?

Apparently, I'm putting out there that I want more of these. 
I should really try to stop my subconscience from operating, else I'll be buried in a sea of pink plastic soon.

Free Math SmartBoard Math Lessons

In my biography for this blog, I assert that I know middle school math better than anyone else.  While this is something of a stretch, it is almost certainly true that I am more familiar with middle school math than you do, even if you happen to be a math teacher.  Three years ago, I was teaching Greatest Common Factor and Least Common Multiple, and I told the students that I was demonstrating just a couple of ways to find them.  One student asked if we could see some other methods, and the other students chimed in that they, too, would like a quick synopsis of other procedures.  While it may seem unbelieveable that children would want to know more ways than I'd already taught them on this rather dry, not heavily applicable to the real-world skill, remember that they would do anything to get a teacher off-topic, if only for a moment.  So, I indulged them, and while I was in the midst of my impromptu lesson I had one of those out-of-body experiences where I could see myself and I realized that I know a little too much about finding GCF and LCM.  I was thinking, gee, Linda, how did you come to know so much about this topic, and isn't it a bit strange? 
 

They try this problem, with their

fraction pieces and a timer

I have been wanting to write a guest blog, and my first post is for a "best practices" teaching website.  In this effort, I have been taking screenshots of my smartboard lessons.  These lessons represent years of work and experience, so why not show them off? 




A slide and its progression. 

From top to bottom:

the old style visual aid, wrapped in
rubber bands to hold it together;
the same prism, now on the
smart board, peeling off the layers,

breaking off the individual

 cubes and displaying

the solution.

Then, reveal correct answer, and misconception.

The screens I chose to show in the guest blog demonstrate the use of manipulatives in the classroom, which is considered a good practice, methods to dispel misconceptions, which is extremely difficult to do, and engaging, hand-on lessons, which, if you're a teacher, you know means headaches!  I've developed these lessons for use with the smartboard, and there are hundreds of slides with cartoons, turn and talks, think pair shares, reflections, procedures, do nows and links to interactive websites.  The instant access to visuals is a godsend for a teacher who is accustomed to having to draw such things as turnstiles and radiometers, to little effect.  But even better are the interactive elements.  The smartboard timers help keep students on task, and they even give me a better feel for how long three minutes really is.  I no longer have to circle the classroom with a rectangular prism made of snap cubes in my hand, demonstrating what the dimensions of the prism are.  I can spin spinners, flip coins, or toss dice without having to tell the students to "trust me, it's heads".  I do not have to buy the incredibly expensive quad-ruled chart paper to teach the coordinate plane or graphing.  And I don't have the aggravation of other teachers in my classroom blithely taking a sheet or two without permission and using them indiscriminately after I take such care to use them sparingly by plotting things in pencil and erasing it clean before the next class.  That's over $2.00 a sheet, people!  And, while I'm on the subject, do you have any idea how expensive overhead projector lightbulbs are?  They're not cheap!  Don't leave it on for the whole period, because the fan doesn't work and it's going to overheat!  I'm not paid enough for these supplies!!!  

Ahem, <straightening my tie>, where was I?  I like the smartboard.  For those of you who are interested, this is a tiny glimpse of my life as a teacher.  For fellow teachers, if you'd like copies of my smartboard lessons, I'd be more than happy to share them.  You don't even need a smartboard to use them, just a computer and a projector and a copy of the software.  This is how I use it, because I no longer have a smartboard, either.  I have most middle school math topics done, and a few 6th and 7th grade science lessons.  Leave a comment and I'll send you them.  



And if you're curious about the GCF and LCM, first off let me say that you're a bit strange, too.  No, I'm kidding: intellectual curiosity is one of the great gifts of being a human.  But follow this blog, and we just may cover it, like it or not!

Eames Tulip Table Base Casting Success

The first cast of the Eames tulip table is out successfully.  It, naturally, was not as easy as I thought.  Twice, I had to throw out the rubber mold because the "mildew remover", as the woman at the store called the mold release, was not for rubber-to-rubber two-part molds, but instead for removing originals from a resin cast.  The third time, using vaseline in between the two halves (thank you, internet), worked.  Then, the first two plastic casts failed because of the extremely narrow opening at the mid-point, so the third cast I mixed and poured extremely rapidly, and it worked!

   

So, I now have a cast!  I'm going to fashion the marble top using the same marblizing process I used to create the marble base to the Castiglione Arco lamp.  I need to remove the flashing from the cast, and it didn't turn out as white as I thought it should, so I'll give it a spray of plastic spray paint.  As is obvious from these absolutely mesmerizing photos, I am extremely excited!

Real World Applications of Math

Dowel + mirror + paint + protractor + ruler =
a $300 mirror made for $10.
How do you like THAT math? 

"When are we ever going to use this?"  I hear this refrain from my middle school students quite a bit.  The obvious, though not satisfying, answer is "on the test next week".  A more thoughtful response, but mostly lost upon tweens, is that math, like any academic pursuit, builds different neural pathways that help us become rational, problem-solving adults.  However, truthfully, a lot of math in the upper grades they may never use (I'm looking at you, square roots of negative numbers and surface area of a triangular prism), but most of middle school math is used in real world situations.  Of course, we want kids to be able to balance checkbooks, make sure they're using coupons in the right order (not that you're allowed to use more than one coupon that often anymore), make change correctly, or to maybe one day use the circumference formula to determine if the drain snake is reaching all the way to the basement without having to uncoil it.  The latter scenario could probably only occur in a household with two math teachers in it.

If you'd like to make this pelmet someday,
you'll need math.

I just received notification that my first project on DonorsChoose is now fully funded.  I am going to have the students make miniatures.  Math and miniatures do overlap in that miniatures are scaled down versions of real world items.  Scale factors and proportions need to be considered in miniatures.  The students will research an item that they would like to create, and then they will find the dimensions of this item, scale the dimensions down, and then build them.  I'm hoping to appeal to the nearly universal love of mushing clay and having small things to cherish.  I hope they respond to it.  I used clay one other time, during a cross-curricular project on Mesopotamian math, where the students had to use cuneiform to create their own equations on a "tablet".  It enlivened a lesson about base-60 number systems (yawn) and Iraq (not the most popular country circa 2005).  They loved it, I enjoyed it, and it's a lesson I still remember some 6 or 7 years later. 

In my DIY decorating, I have had to use ratios (mixing plastic and rubber compounds), angles (to measure rays on a starburst mirror), create nets for boxes, transform patterns, etc.  I have always loved math; in the beginning because it was definitive and exact, then because I was good at it, and today because I appreciate the wonder and miracle inherent in this human invention in its interplay with the natural world.  Getting kids to appreciate math, especially in this day and age where entertainment is everywhere, "covering" the material for the standardized test is critical, and immediate gratification does not encourage subtle discoveries nor small victories, is the hard part.

Final, Final Working Miniature Arco Lamp Tutorial and Pictures

The prototype for the working miniature Arco lamp is finished.  The two improvements from my last post is the addition of lead tape, to prevent the tipping, and a marblized cover surrounding the battery box.  It is done.  Cue Handel's Messiah.  I will be selling this on ebay or etsy, I haven't decided which.  And, before I do so, I have to work out the cost, so I can recoup my material outlay when I sell all of the Arcos that I can make before I bore of it.

The complete tutorial, with sources for the harder to find items, follows:

Materials:                      Source   

3/32" aluminum tubing           K & S

Plastic silver Xmas bulbs       Kurt S. Adler

Knife                           I had this on hand

Sandpaper                       I had this on hand

AA Battery box                  Pololu

AA Batteries                    CVS

2 strand mini electrical wire   Dollhouse Heaven

Shrink tubing                   Dollhouse Heaven

1.5 volt LED bulb               Dollhouse Heaven

Solder & soldering iron         I had on hand
Super Glue                      Loctite
Lead Tape                       Find Tape

Optional material:

Plastic spray paint             Rustoleum

Painter's tape                  3M

Polymer clay                    Sculpey

Pasta Machine                   Amsco

Procedure:

• Tape off the switch of the battery box and spray with plastic spray paint.  Set aside to dry. 
• Insert the 2-strand electrical wire into the aluminum tube to prevent kinking while bending the tube into a curve.  Then bend the wire.
• I used 3 colors of Sculpey clay to fashion a "marble" cover for the battery box.  I chopped the white into 1/8" bits, and added small, ball-bearing size bits of black and pewter (which has a nice sparkle to it like real marble).  I rolled this into a log and twisted and folded it until it was nicely streaked.  The I put this through a pasta maker, and cut out the sides and top of the box.  The top also needs a hole for the tube to fit through.  Once baked, I used Loctite gel glue to glue the sides and top together.
• Using a hot knife (I run mine through the flame of my gas stove), slice off part of the Christmas ornament on the side with the opening for the wire.  Sand the edges smooth.  Take a straightened out paperclip, heat that, and push into the ornament to make a hole for the tube to pass through.
• Strip the wires from the battery box and the 2-strand wire to a size you feel comfortable with.  It should be less than an inch, the smaller the better.  Feed a small piece (just long enough to cover the bare wires plus a little extra) of shrink tube onto wire, and the solder the wires from the 2-strand wire to the wires from the battery box.  Heat the shrink tube to fit tight.
• On the other end of the 2-strand wire, send the marble cover and the cut ornament down the tube,  then strip this other end to a short length that you are comfortable with.  Place a small bit of shrink tube (again, just enough to cover the bare wires, plus a little extra) over the bulb to the other end of wire.
• Open the panel on the top inside of the battery box.  Pull the wire taut and push the extra into the open space on top.  Replace the panel.
• Put a dot of glue at the opening of the battery box to secure the tubing to the box, and another dot on the ornament to secure it to the tube.
• If necessary, place lead tape along inside of marble cover to weigh it down more.
• Lift marble cover, toggle the switch, and enjoy!

Funnies - These Just Made Me Laugh, So I'm Sharing!



Poor Cookie.  He's always been a bit slow.




This appeals to my computer
programming, flowchart side, and
THE-ONLY-HIGH-SCHOOL-MUSICAL-MOVIE
-that will-ever-count side.



This is only funny to those who
eat xioa ban (did I spell that right?)

 


A cross-eyed rhinocereros.  It's just such a bizarre take on things.



  


Because I've considered making this exact thing,
and fully expect it to look like the bottom photo.



 



Yup, everyday.



 

Plain silly.

Unreasonable Effectiveness

The mold box worked well. 
The mold, however,
was sadly a complete bust.



Lego scaffolding as glue dries

Since I assume most of you are not holding a master's of education in Mathematics, you may not be familiar with the phrase "the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics".  It was coined by Nobel Laureate Eugene Wigner in a paper of the same name.  It basically states that math not only describes but predicts phenomena in the natural world, which, if you think about it, is amazing.  Some famous examples are when Newton invented calculus before he needed it for his Laws of Motion (was this man ever a genius!), Maxwell predicted radio waves with his equations before Heinrich Hertz detected them, and how the seemingly quixotic 19th century knot theory work eventually helped explain quantum field theory.  No one could imagine life without their cellphones, but did you know that without fractals, in order to pick up all of the frequencies for Bluetooth, walkie-talkie and Wi-Fi, it would look like a porcupine?  And even though we haven't found them yet, Einstein presaged the existence of black holes.  Math is the bomb (literally, if we're talking about the A-bomb)!  Ha!  Math humor.

A lego lathe!!!

Ah-hem...There is a less well-known phrase called "the unreasonable effectiveness of Legos", which pertains to the unexplained usefulness in miniature making of the already very cool Lego.  The phrase is not as famous because I just made it up.  I have used it as doll house scaffolding, as well as an easily assembled and disassembled mold box.  Has anyone found another use for Legos besides their use as a building toy?  I can envision all sorts of uses.