I wish you could see all of these kids, in person, in all their rambunctious, idiosyncratic glory. In our most fluid moments, it's like conducting, paying attention to each instrument at once, giving them their moment, trying to fit them all into an understandable whole. In many moments, we're a mash up of marching band and orchestra, everyone playing at once in a totally different keys, drummers and brass and squeaky violins, me with a broken conductor's wand, so small that no one can see me waving it furiously.
And so it goes.
Speaking of 'furiously,' today we did adverbs in the 2nd grade level class, and while it's easy to teach 'describes a verb,' it's not so easy when it's 'describes an adjective or another adverb.' Also, 'ends in -ly' is one thing, but then there's 'there' and 'here' and 'then' and 'now,' which really ought to be 3 lessons instead of just one. Also, I don't remember EVER learning about adverbs. Not directly, not by name. Ever. Whoops.
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So, since I've only received input from one source as to the subject matter to be covered in the impending weblog #200, THIS IS SERIOUS PEOPLE, I'm going to guess it's going to run a little like this: a life in review, 2005 - present. Epic. Sprawling. Incoherent and ridiculous. You ready for that? Yeah? If you have a better idea, or something you wish to be included, bring it, and bring it fast, 'cause I'm crankin' that baby out by the weekend.
Do you like how I write sometimes like I have an opera house's worth of an audience, instead of an intimate room full of the five of you? It's a lot like when I start talking to a crowd of 50 when I'm really only talking to my one friend who's sitting across from me. I need to be reigned in sometimes, and sometimes, it's just best to let me go.
Venus from chewingmedulla on Vimeo.
