Conversation in class today:
Student: I can't find my reflection paper.
Me: You haven't written it yet.
Student: But I can't find it.
Me: You haven't written it yet.
Student: So what am I supposed to do if I can't find it?
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Sunday, September 8, 2013
What do you find in a crawl space?
I know old houses have a life of their own, but things around here got really crazy all of a sudden.
Case 1: The first day of classes
I got home around 830 pm from class as I teach a professional writing night class at Allen. Overall, it had been a good day - long and tiring, but good. I get home, change into comfy clothes, and plop down on the couch. All is well for about 15 minutes until I saw something out of the corner of my eye swoop above me. You guessed it: a bat. Dang, I hate those things!! I mean I REALLY hate those things. How did it get in? My guess is that it was nearby and came in with me when I got home. Naturally, I screamed at Ken to get it while I cowered on the couch under a very heavy blanket - because I'm sure all it had on its mind was dive bombing me. With care and patience, Ken opens the back door and lets it fly out. I'm traumatized and spend the rest of the week looking above me in the house for anything moving or perching upside down.
Case 2: The little mouse
During week two of classes, I came home late from class and once again plopped down on the couch for a few minutes of TV time until I headed up to bed. Ken was on the other couch and we were enjoying some showI can't remember what, on television. I heard a noise and figured one of the cats had a squeaky toy out. Something told me to take a look though and when I did, I saw not a squeaky toy but a live mouse in our family room. All four cats were checking it out and Tucker was wildly going after it. He eventually caught it but would not give it up. In fact, he took the thing - it's head in his mouth - and proceeded to run around the house. We managed to corner him in the office where I held him down until he dropped the thing and Ken threw a box on it. Tucker was not happy that we'd taken his kill ( though he hadn't actually killed it). We released it into the wilds of the neighborhood. However, I was yet again freaked out and unable to live in my house comfortably. I just couldn't stand the thought of another mouse making its way into the house and into the family room. I resolved to do something and so called the exterminator the next day, scheduling an appointment for Saturday morning.
Case 3: Something in the sink
Fast forward to Saturday morning. Ken and I are in the basement cleaning up a bit for the exterminator's visit. I'm in the process of cleaning the litter boxes and sweeping the floor. I move one of the litter mats to the laundry room sink so I can wipe it down. I leave it there and proceed to finish my cleaning. I go back to the sink, move the rolled up mat, and see something scurry around the corner of the deep utility sink. I scream, "ANOTHER MOUSE!" and made Ken get rid of it. In some small way seeing this second mouse in such a short time was gratifying because Ken didn't think we needed to call an exterminator -- that I was being a little crazy and obsessed. I guess we showed him. That really did it for me though and I was ready to move. Let the stinking mice have the place. The exterminator came, walked around the house, and found two places where we could do a little something to tighten up possible entry points from the outside which I insisted Ken take care of immediately. After that I put out some bait boxes.
Since this, I haven't seen any more mice or bats and I'm happy to report that something was nibbling on the poison in the crawl space in the basement. Not only that, but I did find two dead mice in there this weekend. Hopefully, they were already there from before closing up the spaces and are now on their way to becoming extinct. I don't like to think of killing animals, but I don't like to think of them alive in my house either. I'm hopeful we are on the road to the end.
That said, lately I've been seeing things out of the corner of my eyes throughout the house. Thankfully nothing is there, but I'm starting to think the house may be haunted and I'm now seeing spirit entities. My next post will probably be about our calling a ghost hunter/medium in to check out that little problem or will be about Ken having me committed to MHI. Either way, it promises to be an interesting post.
Case 1: The first day of classes
I got home around 830 pm from class as I teach a professional writing night class at Allen. Overall, it had been a good day - long and tiring, but good. I get home, change into comfy clothes, and plop down on the couch. All is well for about 15 minutes until I saw something out of the corner of my eye swoop above me. You guessed it: a bat. Dang, I hate those things!! I mean I REALLY hate those things. How did it get in? My guess is that it was nearby and came in with me when I got home. Naturally, I screamed at Ken to get it while I cowered on the couch under a very heavy blanket - because I'm sure all it had on its mind was dive bombing me. With care and patience, Ken opens the back door and lets it fly out. I'm traumatized and spend the rest of the week looking above me in the house for anything moving or perching upside down.
Case 2: The little mouse
During week two of classes, I came home late from class and once again plopped down on the couch for a few minutes of TV time until I headed up to bed. Ken was on the other couch and we were enjoying some showI can't remember what, on television. I heard a noise and figured one of the cats had a squeaky toy out. Something told me to take a look though and when I did, I saw not a squeaky toy but a live mouse in our family room. All four cats were checking it out and Tucker was wildly going after it. He eventually caught it but would not give it up. In fact, he took the thing - it's head in his mouth - and proceeded to run around the house. We managed to corner him in the office where I held him down until he dropped the thing and Ken threw a box on it. Tucker was not happy that we'd taken his kill ( though he hadn't actually killed it). We released it into the wilds of the neighborhood. However, I was yet again freaked out and unable to live in my house comfortably. I just couldn't stand the thought of another mouse making its way into the house and into the family room. I resolved to do something and so called the exterminator the next day, scheduling an appointment for Saturday morning.
Case 3: Something in the sink
Fast forward to Saturday morning. Ken and I are in the basement cleaning up a bit for the exterminator's visit. I'm in the process of cleaning the litter boxes and sweeping the floor. I move one of the litter mats to the laundry room sink so I can wipe it down. I leave it there and proceed to finish my cleaning. I go back to the sink, move the rolled up mat, and see something scurry around the corner of the deep utility sink. I scream, "ANOTHER MOUSE!" and made Ken get rid of it. In some small way seeing this second mouse in such a short time was gratifying because Ken didn't think we needed to call an exterminator -- that I was being a little crazy and obsessed. I guess we showed him. That really did it for me though and I was ready to move. Let the stinking mice have the place. The exterminator came, walked around the house, and found two places where we could do a little something to tighten up possible entry points from the outside which I insisted Ken take care of immediately. After that I put out some bait boxes.
Since this, I haven't seen any more mice or bats and I'm happy to report that something was nibbling on the poison in the crawl space in the basement. Not only that, but I did find two dead mice in there this weekend. Hopefully, they were already there from before closing up the spaces and are now on their way to becoming extinct. I don't like to think of killing animals, but I don't like to think of them alive in my house either. I'm hopeful we are on the road to the end.
That said, lately I've been seeing things out of the corner of my eyes throughout the house. Thankfully nothing is there, but I'm starting to think the house may be haunted and I'm now seeing spirit entities. My next post will probably be about our calling a ghost hunter/medium in to check out that little problem or will be about Ken having me committed to MHI. Either way, it promises to be an interesting post.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
No more first days
I've officially completed all of my "first days" of the semester as of this afternoon. One can only take so many of those syllabus/calendar reviews after all. Grand total: 7.
I hate how I always get nervous the first few days of the semester, but especially on those first days. I think it's the fear of students finding out I don't know what I'm doing. Do I know what I'm doing? I don't know. You'd think after so many years of college and then so many years of teaching on top of that that I wouldn't get nervous anymore. But I do. I do admit though that I didn't have any of those really weird beginning-of-the-semester dreams this time though. Good sign? Bad sign?
So far, I don't think I really have any reason to be nervous. The class I went to this afternoon was the one I was getting the most nervous about. It's a Technical Editing class at UNI, and I have both undergraduate students and 1 graduate student. I must confess that I was tickled that the graduate student was the first one there and sat right next to me. Ha! A little "mini me" if there ever was one! (Gosh, was I ever that annoying? Just kidding. I know I was.) I think what made me nervous was the fact that I haven't taught this class before -- though I'd taken it at both UNI and ISU as a student -- so it's a new one for me. I have to figure out the best way to get through this material without making it seem too easy or too difficult. I think I'm more worried I'll make it too easy since most of my work is done with lower level students.
We seemed to have a decent conversation today though, or so I thought from my end. I reviewed the syllabus, went over our eLearning class site where most of the course materials are, and then we did some introductions. After that, they got into small groups and discussed 3 questions related to technical editing: 1) What is technical editing? 2) What preparation/education does a technical editor need? 3) What responsibilities do technical editors have? I tried to steer the conversation toward the idea that technical editing refers to a type of editing that is considered, well.. more technical (scientific, I mean). We also discussed how editing is a general term that encompasses a range of responsibilities and that is what we'll be focusing on in this class. I wanted them to know it would be a more skills-based class where we practice the work that real editors do. Now we just have to do it. Sigh. Pray for me. I just want to make it out of this semester alive -- sanity optional.
The good news? Tomorrow is Thursday, marking the official end of my teaching work week! (But not the actual work week.)
I hate how I always get nervous the first few days of the semester, but especially on those first days. I think it's the fear of students finding out I don't know what I'm doing. Do I know what I'm doing? I don't know. You'd think after so many years of college and then so many years of teaching on top of that that I wouldn't get nervous anymore. But I do. I do admit though that I didn't have any of those really weird beginning-of-the-semester dreams this time though. Good sign? Bad sign?
So far, I don't think I really have any reason to be nervous. The class I went to this afternoon was the one I was getting the most nervous about. It's a Technical Editing class at UNI, and I have both undergraduate students and 1 graduate student. I must confess that I was tickled that the graduate student was the first one there and sat right next to me. Ha! A little "mini me" if there ever was one! (Gosh, was I ever that annoying? Just kidding. I know I was.) I think what made me nervous was the fact that I haven't taught this class before -- though I'd taken it at both UNI and ISU as a student -- so it's a new one for me. I have to figure out the best way to get through this material without making it seem too easy or too difficult. I think I'm more worried I'll make it too easy since most of my work is done with lower level students.
We seemed to have a decent conversation today though, or so I thought from my end. I reviewed the syllabus, went over our eLearning class site where most of the course materials are, and then we did some introductions. After that, they got into small groups and discussed 3 questions related to technical editing: 1) What is technical editing? 2) What preparation/education does a technical editor need? 3) What responsibilities do technical editors have? I tried to steer the conversation toward the idea that technical editing refers to a type of editing that is considered, well.. more technical (scientific, I mean). We also discussed how editing is a general term that encompasses a range of responsibilities and that is what we'll be focusing on in this class. I wanted them to know it would be a more skills-based class where we practice the work that real editors do. Now we just have to do it. Sigh. Pray for me. I just want to make it out of this semester alive -- sanity optional.
The good news? Tomorrow is Thursday, marking the official end of my teaching work week! (But not the actual work week.)
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Get off my porch!
Tonight I am angry! I am so freaking angry! Ken and I went out to dinner tonight. As we were pulling out of the driveway, he said to me, "Should we bring in the mail?" as there were two boxes on the front porch that had arrived during the day. We have a lot of plants and things on the porch so the items weren't visible. I said we'd just get them when we got home.
Fast forward to when we got home. As we pull in the driveway, we see our neighbor standing in the grass between our two driveways holding one of our boxes which is opened. She has a distressed look on her face. I jump out of the car as Ken goes to pull it in the garage. She tells me that three middle school-aged boys were walking around the neighborhood and had just knocked on their door. They'd asked if there were any jobs they could do to earn money to go to the pool. She told them she might have some things for them to do the next day if they came back, and then they walked across the driveways to our house. Thankfully, our neighbors happened to be watching from inside their house. They saw the kids knock on our front door and then noticed that when they walked down our front steps they were carrying a package. Our neighbor said he had noticed our packages before and knew that the kids hadn't walked up with one. He hopped on his motorcycle and chased them down to confront them. He found my box ripped open and ditched in a yard. Obviously, the kids didn't care for my dishes, and I am grateful that they didn't break them which they could have easily done.
Our neighbor called the police who came to investigate and checked out the neighborhood but so far has found no sign of them. We spoke with the officer who said to call him back if they happened to show up again the next night or if we say any sign of them.
I'm so mad that these kids thought they could just walk up to our house and take whatever they wanted. What upbringing are they getting? Any? Where are their parents? I thought I lived in a pretty decent neighborhood but now I'm really paranoid. What happens when I'm not here? What's going to be next? Breaking and entering?
I know dishes aren't a big thing, but I feel violated to some degree. I really want the police to catch these little shits and teach them a lesson, but because it isn't that major of a crime, I doubt anything will happen. Errrrr.....
Fast forward to when we got home. As we pull in the driveway, we see our neighbor standing in the grass between our two driveways holding one of our boxes which is opened. She has a distressed look on her face. I jump out of the car as Ken goes to pull it in the garage. She tells me that three middle school-aged boys were walking around the neighborhood and had just knocked on their door. They'd asked if there were any jobs they could do to earn money to go to the pool. She told them she might have some things for them to do the next day if they came back, and then they walked across the driveways to our house. Thankfully, our neighbors happened to be watching from inside their house. They saw the kids knock on our front door and then noticed that when they walked down our front steps they were carrying a package. Our neighbor said he had noticed our packages before and knew that the kids hadn't walked up with one. He hopped on his motorcycle and chased them down to confront them. He found my box ripped open and ditched in a yard. Obviously, the kids didn't care for my dishes, and I am grateful that they didn't break them which they could have easily done.
Our neighbor called the police who came to investigate and checked out the neighborhood but so far has found no sign of them. We spoke with the officer who said to call him back if they happened to show up again the next night or if we say any sign of them.
I'm so mad that these kids thought they could just walk up to our house and take whatever they wanted. What upbringing are they getting? Any? Where are their parents? I thought I lived in a pretty decent neighborhood but now I'm really paranoid. What happens when I'm not here? What's going to be next? Breaking and entering?
I know dishes aren't a big thing, but I feel violated to some degree. I really want the police to catch these little shits and teach them a lesson, but because it isn't that major of a crime, I doubt anything will happen. Errrrr.....
Friday, August 16, 2013
Laughs at a Funeral
Today found us at a funeral - no Ken - just me, mother, Aunt Sheila, and Grandma Frieda. As funerals usually are, this one was solemn. However, this blog post is dedicated to Grandma Frieda who busted out with some laughs at the luncheon following the service and burial.
The luncheon after the funeral was held in the basement of the funeral home in Independence. Overall, I have to say it had some of the best funeral food I've had in a while: egg salad sandwiches, chips, veggies, and an assorted blend of cakes and bars. I say it was good because not many people can make a good egg salad sandwich anymore, but the folks at this place did it up right. On a side note, this food was representative of many a Lutheran funeral although it was missing the requisite red jello with pears suspended in it, potato salad, and the occasional ham salad sandwich, which is becoming a rarity at funerals these days - to the chagrin of many a Lutheran.
At the luncheon sat the four of us plus two people Grandma Frieda recognized from previous days of square dancing. The conversation at the table covered the usual funeral talk: comments on the food, the length of time it took to get to the cemetery, why the family didn't have the burial at a closer cemetery, the length of time it took at the cemetery, and of course more commentary on the food.
As I sat down to begin enjoying my egg salad sandwich, I heard Grandma Frieda asking her square dance friends about some others she used to know. I listened for a bit but then got up to get more iced tea. Thinking I wouldn't miss anything was sure a mistake. In the roughly 15 seconds it took me to get up, get tea, and return to the table, I missed a major piece of the conversation as what I heard next involved some story about a missing man who just "disappeared" in the 1960s (I think) and the comment that it was in some way mob/mafia related. "What?!" says I when I returned, for this was not the usual funeral luncheon talk. How could I have missed anything so interesting?
While somewhat dismayed at having missed the mafia story, my sadness didn't long because Grandma started sharing with the other two at the table stories about the deceased's ex-wife. It was funny on varying levels: 1) grandma was telling how the woman used to work at a place where she had to wear a skimpy bunny outfit which was funny just in the away she described it, 2) grandma was talking loud enough that people at other tables could have easily heard, and 3) my mom made the funniest faces trying to shush Grandma and halt the telling of the story as we were sitting at a table close to where one of the deceased's children and his family were sitting.
I just loved how Grandma had no reservations about saying what she did. She doesn't hold back and, in this case, it made for a very interesting post-funeral lunch. I know it's one I'll remember for a while. Way to keep it real at the funeral, Grandma!
The luncheon after the funeral was held in the basement of the funeral home in Independence. Overall, I have to say it had some of the best funeral food I've had in a while: egg salad sandwiches, chips, veggies, and an assorted blend of cakes and bars. I say it was good because not many people can make a good egg salad sandwich anymore, but the folks at this place did it up right. On a side note, this food was representative of many a Lutheran funeral although it was missing the requisite red jello with pears suspended in it, potato salad, and the occasional ham salad sandwich, which is becoming a rarity at funerals these days - to the chagrin of many a Lutheran.
At the luncheon sat the four of us plus two people Grandma Frieda recognized from previous days of square dancing. The conversation at the table covered the usual funeral talk: comments on the food, the length of time it took to get to the cemetery, why the family didn't have the burial at a closer cemetery, the length of time it took at the cemetery, and of course more commentary on the food.
As I sat down to begin enjoying my egg salad sandwich, I heard Grandma Frieda asking her square dance friends about some others she used to know. I listened for a bit but then got up to get more iced tea. Thinking I wouldn't miss anything was sure a mistake. In the roughly 15 seconds it took me to get up, get tea, and return to the table, I missed a major piece of the conversation as what I heard next involved some story about a missing man who just "disappeared" in the 1960s (I think) and the comment that it was in some way mob/mafia related. "What?!" says I when I returned, for this was not the usual funeral luncheon talk. How could I have missed anything so interesting?
While somewhat dismayed at having missed the mafia story, my sadness didn't long because Grandma started sharing with the other two at the table stories about the deceased's ex-wife. It was funny on varying levels: 1) grandma was telling how the woman used to work at a place where she had to wear a skimpy bunny outfit which was funny just in the away she described it, 2) grandma was talking loud enough that people at other tables could have easily heard, and 3) my mom made the funniest faces trying to shush Grandma and halt the telling of the story as we were sitting at a table close to where one of the deceased's children and his family were sitting.
I just loved how Grandma had no reservations about saying what she did. She doesn't hold back and, in this case, it made for a very interesting post-funeral lunch. I know it's one I'll remember for a while. Way to keep it real at the funeral, Grandma!
Sunday, July 28, 2013
As the Grass Grows....
And now for another installment of our soap opera based on the ever-evolving joys of home ownership (which today includes lawn care) : "As the Weeds Grow..." (other names under consideration: "One Lawn to Mow," "Days of our Lawn," "The Lawn and the Restless." Suggest other names if you have some.) Last time, you'll remember that I posted a picture of the path that meanders from the patio to the pond. Well, it's still there and it's still not done. But that's okay. It's almost done. Someday it will really be done. Someday. I keep telling myself. Yes. Someday. Sigh.
What I have for you here instead is a look at a before and after. Because it is important to reflect on what HAS gotten done (especially when one's thoughts tend to turn to what hasn't been done), I thought we should take a look at the pond area when we moved in and now. I stumbled upon the before picture a couple of days ago and so went out and took a better one of now.
Before
After
What I have for you here instead is a look at a before and after. Because it is important to reflect on what HAS gotten done (especially when one's thoughts tend to turn to what hasn't been done), I thought we should take a look at the pond area when we moved in and now. I stumbled upon the before picture a couple of days ago and so went out and took a better one of now.
Before
After
One thing I did notice from these pictures is how badly the bird house has fallen into disrepair. I tell Ken that we are slum lords because we provide inadequate housing for our tenants. That's one of the projects being added to the list. I know we need to clean and paint it, but I'm not sure how to go about that while there are still birds living in it. If anyone knows what to do, please advise. When I look at these, I'm amazed at how overgrown it was -- and we thought this was awesome when we bought the house! Yikes. Of course, now we know how much work it actually is to care for a pond plus fish. (I made Ken clean the filter again...ewwww.)
More to come.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Thrift Store Happiness
We just returned from one of our regular trips to IL to Matt and Lisa's for a fun-filled time of shopping at thrift stores in the 'burbs. My major finds this trip: books, books, and more books! I don't usually find that many that I like enough to want to get, but this time I went book crazy. I found books on gardening, managing money, general fiction, a book on the guy Rudy for whom the movie bearing the same name was about, and random other items. It seemed like everywhere I went I found books I had to - for some reason or another - purchase.
So now my dining room table is covered with books that I really don't know what to do with right now. Some will make their way to my office at school as I thought they had some general educational potential ( at least at the time I bought them-now I'm trying to remember what that was). One cool find was a small republished Sears & Roebuck catalog from 1909. It's really fun to look through that and see what was being sold and for how much. Surely, I can make some sort of lesson out of that for my HCC classes, right?
I'd try posting a picture of the table, but I'm upstairs lounging and don't feel like going all the way down (12) steps to do so. Please don't take my laziness personally.
So now my dining room table is covered with books that I really don't know what to do with right now. Some will make their way to my office at school as I thought they had some general educational potential ( at least at the time I bought them-now I'm trying to remember what that was). One cool find was a small republished Sears & Roebuck catalog from 1909. It's really fun to look through that and see what was being sold and for how much. Surely, I can make some sort of lesson out of that for my HCC classes, right?
I'd try posting a picture of the table, but I'm upstairs lounging and don't feel like going all the way down (12) steps to do so. Please don't take my laziness personally.
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