There would be such a thing as a knitting sabbatical.
Admin: Alaska, this is your third knitting sabbatical you've submitted this year.
Alaska: I can't control these things, Ma'am. As Shakespeare's Benedick says with such anticipation, "The world must be peopled!" and in my case, having done my fair share of people-ing, "The itty-bitties must have handknit sweaters!"
Admin: But it's only March. When will you teach your classes?
Alaska: Just as soon as I run out of this baby bamboo/merino superwash blend.
Yeah. Not going to happen. Okay, what if I started each semester teaching my students to knit so by the end of the semester they had both a firm grasp on the difference between segregated and unsegregated ESL programs AND a knit and purl stitch? We could donate each semester's baby sweaters to the nearest refugee relocation NGO.
But today is Wednesday and Wednesdays are my best get things done day. Jill and I swam. There is laundry in the washer. The dog is spoiled and fed. The whole house (except the kitchen and bathrooms) is the cleanest it's been in ages (which pretty much took the whole summer to get to this point, with the carpet cleaner guy putting the finishing touches on yesterday) and my goal is to keep it this way until Thanksgiving. After that, who knows. But in the meantime, I need to tackle the bathrooms and kitchen this week. But not today.
Until it's time to go get Ben for oboe I'm working on final evals for the World Languages student teachers, some paper work for my dissertation project, and finishing touches on an article I hope to submit to a journal in two weeks.
It's really, really nice being in a clean house. I wish I were the sort of mother for whom keeping it that way came easily. I mean, assuming that meant I could keep the other good things about me like finding most teenagers charming and brave and thinking that teaching is an art, not a science, so it must always be assessed qualitatively, not quantitatively and being really, really sure that Institute class at church is the best. thing. ever.
I've been thinking lately how school is like my sons' swim team. But that will be fodder for another post.
Admin: Alaska, this is your third knitting sabbatical you've submitted this year.
Alaska: I can't control these things, Ma'am. As Shakespeare's Benedick says with such anticipation, "The world must be peopled!" and in my case, having done my fair share of people-ing, "The itty-bitties must have handknit sweaters!"
Admin: But it's only March. When will you teach your classes?
Alaska: Just as soon as I run out of this baby bamboo/merino superwash blend.
Yeah. Not going to happen. Okay, what if I started each semester teaching my students to knit so by the end of the semester they had both a firm grasp on the difference between segregated and unsegregated ESL programs AND a knit and purl stitch? We could donate each semester's baby sweaters to the nearest refugee relocation NGO.
But today is Wednesday and Wednesdays are my best get things done day. Jill and I swam. There is laundry in the washer. The dog is spoiled and fed. The whole house (except the kitchen and bathrooms) is the cleanest it's been in ages (which pretty much took the whole summer to get to this point, with the carpet cleaner guy putting the finishing touches on yesterday) and my goal is to keep it this way until Thanksgiving. After that, who knows. But in the meantime, I need to tackle the bathrooms and kitchen this week. But not today.
Until it's time to go get Ben for oboe I'm working on final evals for the World Languages student teachers, some paper work for my dissertation project, and finishing touches on an article I hope to submit to a journal in two weeks.
It's really, really nice being in a clean house. I wish I were the sort of mother for whom keeping it that way came easily. I mean, assuming that meant I could keep the other good things about me like finding most teenagers charming and brave and thinking that teaching is an art, not a science, so it must always be assessed qualitatively, not quantitatively and being really, really sure that Institute class at church is the best. thing. ever.
I've been thinking lately how school is like my sons' swim team. But that will be fodder for another post.
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