Tomorrow

...might involve rain.
...will involve a beach.
...most likely will involve seafood.
...should include a poolside cocktail.
...will most definitely be miles away from this desert.

Little Sally Walker

Mother May I, Simon Says, Red Light/Green Light.  These are the playground games I remember from grade school.  And what was that jump rope game involving a song about robbers?  I don't remember at the moment.  Anyhow, I had no idea what I was missing until watching my students play games with a beat, funky lyrics, and dance such as "Little Sally Walker" and "Down by the River."  This is how we do it on the east side, the hood, when we don't want to be out in 100+ heat on the last day of school...

P.S.  I was supposed to be "teaching with rigor" right up until the last moment of school.  Seriously?  Okay, so the above video was a differentiated lesson on poetry using the multiple intelligences.  So there.

Chickies

I don't like the birds that hang around our house.  I don't like the nests they aggressively guard near our front door, nor the bird droppings that pile up.  I don't like that we feed the birds in the back that then drop seeds that sprout into ugly rye grass in my yard.  I don't like how they help themselves to Duke's food if the bird feeder has run dry.

I do like the dove calls and the occasional spotting of a bluejay or cardinal, still somewhat rare in this area.  But everything else I don't like!

And then I saw these.  These little babies whose nest is in one of my hanging plants on the back porch.  They won't make it.  Duke already knows they're there.  It was a bad spot for the mom or dad to build a nest in the first place, but birds seem to have forgotten that that's what trees are for.  Anyway, their chances are slim but I hope they get to fly away soon.

Owls

A few weeks ago when Alan and I were in Houston and browsing in the museum gift shop, I made a random decision to start collecting "owl" stuff.  At the time I was still reading Poppy to my homeroom class, so I may have had owls on the brain.  Who knows.  But anyway, I discovered that Alan also likes owls, so it was sort of a joint decision to start the collection.  I knew I had an owl candle holder at home, but that was my only piece.  So when we walked into Pier One yesterday and these awesome owls were staring at me with their bug eyes, I had to get them. 

And then I had to get these:

So I'm now an official owl collector.

215

Sounds like the number of bones in the human body.  Or the number of school days in a year.  Or what time I woke up last night and looked out the window hoping for lightning.  It's actually the number of days since we've had measurable rain.  It's hard not to think about it.  We have frequent reminders.  Like the smoke that blows in from fires a hundred miles away when we're out trying to enjoy a baseball game.  Or when that hot 40 mph wind stirs up the fine sand that filters into your cars, your homes - I can't tell you how often I have to dust and vacuum. And you can imagine how dry our skin is.  The chances are slight, but we might get rain today or tomorrow.  We better start honing our Gene Kelly skills.

 Brown West Texas Skies: