There's a Hole in My Brain

to be sung to the tune of "There's a Hole in My Bucket"

There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.

Then fix it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then fix it, Dear Ruthie,
Fix it.

There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy,
No brain.

Then buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.

I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.

There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie,
A sale.

But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy,
I'm broke.

But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie,
Three jobs.

But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy,
One job.

Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.

But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.

Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie,
Your book.

But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy,
No pics.

Then Google it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then Google it, Dear Ruthie,
Google it.

But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy,
I'm scared.

Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie,
Picture.

But you need it more, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
'Cause there's a hole in your brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.

At least I have one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
At least I have one, Dear Ruthie,
Have one.

But I can buy one at Cosco, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I can buy one at Costco, Dear Joysy,
Buy one.

Noticeboard

If You Notice

If you noticed this notice,
You will notice
That this notice
Is not worth noticing.



Fountas, Irene C. and Gay Su Pinnell. Sing a Song of Poetry. Portsmouth, NH: FirstHand, 2004.

New Twists in the fabric of things

Life is officially mixed up--my sister is now old enough to wear (and look good in, I might add) my clothes. At first I thought it was cool. Then I pondered getting annoyed. Then I realized that it was a MAJOR compliment that my clothes are cool enough for her to wear.

My aunt is back in the States from Nigeria and realized that, staying Stateside, she's going to need a new wardrobe. She and my mom have been shopping for three days. They found many good deals. We looked at many new outfits and nodded or shook our heads or oohed and aahed as appropriate. We had a fashion show tonight while my sister was away at the LC GB (LC=Living Candles, the name of her youth group; GB=graduation banquet for those who just graduated from high school--everyone comes to see the seniors off to college, or, as my sis says, to celebrate their leaving).

Listening to my sister tell about GB, I am reminded of reasons I am glad I'm no longer a high-schooler. Reasons that make me smile. Reasons I'll keep to myself.

First Day of School--Summer School, that is

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Well, Summer School started today with a splash--no, with a series of disturbing beeps.
Actually, my day began with the buzzing of my cell phone's alarm clock at an hour that was WAY too early. But I got up. You know, it really is pleasant to be awake early in the morning (around sunrise) . . . once one gets over the initial "un-awake" feeling. But at this time of year, morning is beautiful--fresh, clean, unpopulated.

I'm responsible for my campus's before-school-care program. So I'm supposed to open up at 7am to take in the kids that arrive early. Well, I was running a little late (amazing how no matter how early I start, I still end up running a little late!), and showed up to open the gates at exactly 7am. Already there was one kid waiting at the door for me, another approaching with grandparents in tow. No, scratch that last one. Amendment: his grandparents were approaching with him in tow. They are very nice people, peppy and excited about their grandkids and everything associated with them, especially since the oldest is just out of kindergarten and ready to start first grade in summer school this year. I suspect that they are still new grandparents.

So now I have an audience for the opening of the doors. Bother! Oh, well. I get out my nifty set of keys (I LOVE having keys to the buildings I work in!) and wave my card in front of the alarm box. If I remember right, it's supposed to beep and then click the door open for 5 seconds so I can get inside without opening the main doors (someone opens them an hour later when more people are coming). So the box beeps but there's no click and the door remains locked. Bother! I try again. And again. Still nothing, so I turn to my audience and announce that my keys do not work (to which the grandpa replies that he has surmised as much). I attempt to call one of my bosses. I get his voice mail and decide not to leave a message. Then I bethink me of my other keys--perhaps one of them will open the door and I can at least get into the building. [I have visions of myself standing outside the building all morning until someone else arrives with a key; I can see myself telling the parents "oh, we will be having before-school care outside today!"; I can see the parents not being very thrilled and not seeing the humor of the situation; and I laugh inside at the humor of it anyway.]

The key works to get us into the building where the alarm is beeping, calmly letting us know that the building knows we are there without any right to be there and that the situation is being dealt with. I seat the kids on the steps, rummage in my bag for the paper that tells me how to call the alarm company, and run into the office to call the company. The lady at the company walks me through turning off the alarm, and the day proceeds as normal--as "normally" as the first day of summer school ever proceeds!

Actually, my two 2nd grade classes really went well. There came a couple moments when the kids were sitting spellbound at my description of what would happen to them if they misbehaved when I realized that if I thought about the total theatricality of the moment I would laugh. So I stopped thinking about their faces looking at me in awe and fear and proceeded to remind them that they did want to follow the rules because life would be so much more wonderful if they did. Teaching really is a performance much of the time!

And then there are the moments when you know you can't laugh until later when you can talk about the incidents in the teachers' lounge--today I had a kid singing in the bathroom. I'd never had that situation to deal with before! He is the kind of kid that thinks class clown is a job description he can apply for. So when his chance came to use his nifty new restroom pass, he decided to make it a memorable trip. He started to hum as he approached the bathroom door (our classroom has a bathroom at the back of it) and then he began to sing when the door was closed. Of course the other kids thought he was funny, and all 24 of them began to giggle. I waited to see if he'd stop, wondering "ok, how do I handle THIS one?" He didn't stop. Finally I banged on the door. When he called oh! so sweetly "Who is it?" I firmly told him, in my deepest, sternest voice (as reminiscent of my father's as I could make it), to stop. "Ok," he meekly replied and stopped. I explained to the class that he would not be laughing about it later when he got in trouble for it; I also talked to him after class about his misbehaviors (of which the bathroom incident was only one). Yes, I did my own laughing about the incident when I recounted it to the teachers I ate lunch with.

It truly has been a memorable first day. Funny how the things that make it memorable are not the fact that I have a huge class and the fact that my first-day-of-school class time went better than ever; the things that make a day memorable are the out-of-the-ordinary things. Theatrical moments.

Tomorrow my key should work. We tested it before I left school today. Maybe tomorrow won't be very memorable.

A drink a Starburst would be proud of

Tonight Mom, Ruth, and I went to our chiropractor and, as usual, made a "ladies night out" of it. I know, "chiropractor" doesn’t sound all that exciting, but we really enjoy it because we all go into the same room and we laugh a lot when we update him on our lives and hear how his is going. Then we all three usually get a massage before we leave--oh, so nice! Anyway, on our way home we stopped at Jamba Juice where I got the best smoothie ever! It really tastes like a Starburst. Or maybe a cross between a Starburst and a sour Skittles mouthful. So sweet and sour at the same time! I think it's my new favorite Jamba Juice drink.

Spider Killer

There's a fairy tale about the tailor who killed 7 flies with one blow and was so proud of himself that he stitched "7 with one blow" on his belt and went out into the world to try his fortune; as fairy tales usually go, everyone read his belt, mistook the 7 for seven men, and were duly afraid of him. Well, folks, be afraid, be very afraid. My count today has mounted into the double digits, I am sure. (kindly ignore the fact that I do not have a very good head for remembering numbers). No, I was not killing flies, nor was I out felling people, but today I became the spider's nemesis. Tomorrow is Tommy's grad and going-away party, so Mom set me to cleaning the house. Proverbs says that spiders are in kings' houses and that we are to learn something from this (probably a lesson of diligence or perseverance or espionage); I don't know about kings' houses, but I do know that they are in our house! We have these tiny spiders that don't build big webs and instead lurk in corners of shelves and windows and eat bugs tinier than themselves. I declared war on them. And I won the skirmish today. Everything I picked up to dust seemed to have one on it; every time I . . . Why in the world am I describing this???

When we first moved to California, my very first task was to clean out the spider-infested shed at the back of our rental house. "Welcome to California, the land where spiders never die by natural means!" My response? Die, spiders! Die!

I used to watch Spiderman as a kid: I loved that show. But perhaps he shouldn't come to live and work in my town: I'm really not too keen on webs anymore.

On a totally different tack--tonight my big little brother graduated from high school! The ceremony was lots of fun (long, yes, but fun). Hearing the aspirations of the seniors was exciting and interesting. A girls' quintet sang one of my favorite songs: "Shine on Me"--their harmony gave me chills. It was so beautiful! Oh, and I noticed two pink ties in the bunch: Thomas wore one, a nice respectable shade of light pink; and one other guy wore a pink tie--a hot pink one over a black shirt. So much for fashion reporting.