Just another reason why....

Approximately 10 (or so) years ago, a baby Great Horned Owl fell from a nest on my property. We (the neighbors, my ex, and I) were unable to get her back in the nest - Mom and Dad were going nuts, and we were frantic trying to figure out a plan. We called "the bird lady" up in the foothills, who came down and took our baby home to nurse back to health. A few months later, she brought her back to release.



And she stayed. Over the years, she and her mate have resided here. Oh sure, sometimes months would go by without me seeing them, or talking to them.
Yes -- I said talking -- and no, I'm not crazy.








My city (and some of my country) friends thought I was nuts when I told them that my owls talked to me. When I would arrive home late, they would call to me -- her voice pitched a bit higher than her mates. I would answer back, and they would hoot once more.

This year -- they had babies. Three babies. And yes....the babies talk to me. Well, screech actually (as they don't hoot yet). I can walk right up to the tree, and they all stay. The other night, I was out talking to one of the babies, and the other two flew over to join baby huey (that's what I call the roundest one --the one that the stupid bluejays pick on the most).

I think I'm a good apple

This came in my email this morning:

Apples and Wine

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Now men...
-Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

Freeflying or Falling

I stand, toes dangling over the edge
feel air race up my thighs, close my eyes,
Damn –
I swear I hear the Wind beckon me, “Fly!”

“Ahhh...Wind,” I reply,
“Freefall is relatively painless
But that last foot? Done wrong can leave you brainless.”

But it’s safe here on the edge;
and with eyes closed and arms spread wide
it almost feels like a skydive
Wind beckons again, “Fly!”
So I lean into it
but damn

- I still remember
that painful last foot. Should have been fatal
though it wasn’t. Snapped a femur and filled a lung
but I guess I wasn’t done.
Brushed myself off, and raced to back to the edge.

Have I told you?
It’s safe here on the edge,
And with eyes closed and arms spread wide,
It almost feels like a skydive…
Wind beckons, “Come on, damn it! Fly!”
So I lean into it
but damn


- I still remember
that painful last foot.
It certainly felt fatal
but it wasn’t.
Shattered my confidence, splattered
my heart on the floor of the shower,
leaving me feeling power-
less
but nonetheless,
brushed myself off, and raced back to the edge.

Don’t you understand?
It’s so damn safe here on the edge,
Eyes clamped shut and fists raised wide
It almost feels like a skydive
Wind beckons, “You have got to fly!
Just let go and try,
And besides
You know what they say about the third time…”

So I lean into it,
but damn-

-how do a I know which three
it will be:
a strike or a charm?
Happiness or harm?

So, do you see now?
Do you see why I perch here on the edge?

Because it’s safe.

And it almost feels like a skydive.


If only the Wind would stop beckoning me, “Fly!”

A Few of My Favorite Smells

Somehow, it all fits. I am nasally-oriented.

When I was three, I put a string of glass beads (Christmas decorations) up my nose. Just because they were pretty.

Shortly thereafter, I informed my brother, Satan, that I could fit three pussywillows up my nose. He dared me to try for four.
Yup -- I could.

Middle School found me hating boogers -- mainly because they made it so hard to breathe. In the midst of a horrible cold, I thought that if I kept blowing my nose, the snot would not stay. Blow, blow, blow.
bam! The busted artery story.

It's still all about my nose...

I love smells......

1. Orange blossoms
2. Vanilla
3. Lavender
4. Chocolate
5. Clean Sheets
6. Eucalyptus Tree
7. Grass (as in lawn)
8. Ginger
9. Gasoline (I don't get this either....I maybe be a secret huffer or something)
10. Man

Well....I may need to work on the order here....

I must have pissed of an Ent. Seriously. I don't know how. I don't know when -- but at sometime I must have.

I love trees. Some of you read this Ode to the Leaf. My love of leaves is obvious -- as (should be) my love of where they come from.

And yet -- they're out to get me. THIS IS NOT PARANOIA.

Remember this incident? How many 100 ft Acacia trees are there in San Francisco? But the one with wobbly footing decides to crush my car....

And then this morning.....I walk out to the garage this morning.
::crap::
I forgot to put the car in the garage! It'll be covered in dewy stuff and all....I might need to wash it--
::vvrrrooommmm:: (that's the noise the garage door makes)
::crap::
Wow! Those leaves and that branch sure look low -- they're almost
::crap::
I think the tree fell on my car. Again.



So.....I walk around to the other side.....


::sigh of relief:::







It seems to have missed the car. But I've got to go to work!!! Can I get the car out of the driveway? Pull forward. Turn. Back up, turn wheel tight. ::crap:: is that a scrapy noise? Pull forward, turn again. Back up, s-l-o-w-l-y, turning wheel t-i-g-h-t-l-y. ::crap:: Don't fall into the drainage hole on the left side.
::sigh:: I think I'm clear.





HOLY COW!!! I made it around that!?!?!?!?


Damn.....I'm good.





Anybody up for a chainsaw party?

A Teaching Moment

In addition to teaching 7th grade Language Arts, I also teach a Reading Intervention class - targeted at students who are reading 2+ years below their reading level. Most of these students have struggled with reading since 1st grade, and reading has never been something they enjoyed.
I try to change that.
I show them strategies to use while they are reading that help them retain the information. And we try to have fun.
This is one of my favorites
At the end of each chapter, I ask the students to write down 2-3 favorite lines from the chapter. They might like the figurative language - they might have a personal connection - whatever.
**I DO NOT TELL THEM WHY WE ARE COLLECTING THEM**

When we finish the novel, they cut out their sentences, select a few, and put them in a different sequence to create:

FOUND POETRY
Here is my example from the novel, "The Music of Dolphins," by Karen Hesse.
Note: This novel is written at a 5th grade level, but is 7-8th grade interest. It is written in a journal form, and reminds me a lot of "Flowers for Algernon."

I watch the red sun set into a choppy sea
I am on this beach of grass with no ocean, with no quiet, with no clean air to breathe.
Waves whisper onto the beach, sucking at my heels and my toes.
I must get back to the sea.
In the sea there are no locks or switches, no doors or walls.
I can leave my human thought on the beach
I swim out to them on the murmuring sea
-like the wings of the ray flying through the slow green water
What we are doing will not fade like a sunset.

Bambi - The Book, not the Disney Movie

This is my favorite chapter from the novel, Bambi. No Bambi, no Thumper, no Faline, no Karus. In fact, the characters don't even have names! But this chapter affected me then, as it still does today. I recently read this chapter to my students, who loved it (of course). I then thought I should share it with you. So, naturally, I had to make a little video to go with my reading...





Since reading this book (I believe I was around 10), I have never looked at leaves as "plain." I don't crunch them when I walk, I don't jump in them, and sometimes...sometimes I tell them they're beautiful....