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| Middle School typing class |
23 degrees/cloudy/calm winds
Pentoga Road
Had I not written Friday morning, I'd have probably skipped today. After two days of substitute teaching, theres not a lot to write about.
Both Thursday and Friday went well in the classroom. The kiddies were well behaved and I only had to flash my Mean Mr. P face once.
I had to laugh, it was in 7th grade English. A girl was talking and everyone was quiet except her. The poor Chatty Kathy was clueless that she was the recipient of the now-famous look.
The class would look at her, then me, then back to her. Suddenly, one concerned boy who couldn't take it any longer said in a rather loud voice, "Sarah, be quiet! Mr. P is giving you that look."
I think what he really meant was, "Quick, run and save yourself while there's still time."
Ah, despite the wrinkles and old man face that have developed in my senior years, even after twenty years of not being active in the public school classroom, I still have the look.
I have to brag a bit. At one time, many many years ago, I had one of the largest marching bands in Maine, around one hundred-forty members strong. It was just me and them. I was able quiet all my charges without saying a word. All it took was the look.
I've always been known for my classroom management skills, even taught that subject for years at the university level. Dad had the look. Grandma, a long time one-room schoolhouse teacher, also had the look. It's a family thing.
I arrived home last night, carried in wood, got a fire started, then didn't move off the couch. Sargie walked through the door shortly after and we both collapsed in front of the wood stove. Another week gone by!
She opens today, but has tomorrow off. I'm going for my walk first thing then head to the shop for the day. Thanksgiving will soon be here and the piece I've been working on is at least a day, maybe two, away from being finished.
Oh, I didn't get to see the guys at the deer camp last night, but as of yesterday morning, no one had had any success. I have the feeling there may be more eating, gabbing, and taking naps, going on across the road than actual hunting. I'll find out today.
Time to get the day started.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
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| No longer called typing, "keyboard" instruction is all done digitally. It must work. The students have remarkable skills. |
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