Posting in the wee hours seems to be the time that works for me...just like at home! The day was relaxing in that we hung out til noon and then walked to the local beach. Great lunch, better gelatto, then a quick water taxi to the tram that took us to Carouge. This was recently cited in the SF Chron as a great small town to explore. Debbie's mission had us doing some shopping for some household items that can only be found there. What for, you ask? What are you a fucking cop?
We returned and I promptly fell asleep and woke up to a great b-day dinner Deb had cooked herself. (What a bad guest!) Then we peeled out of the house to meet up with her friends for some cocktails at 7. Great group of people from all over Europe and one other American. One girl in particular I like quite a bit is Corolla (like the car). She is Swiss German and quite cool. Also met a guy who is organizing a foam party next week which we will miss, sad to say. He was fabulous, if you know what I mean.
Around 11:30 pm we went to a beach (on the lake) party. It was beautiful--almost a full moon, smooth water, lights shining across the lake. Very cool. I keep thinking I'd like to organize events like these at home. There is that casting pond sort of near my house...I got totally lost driving there that one time, so maybe not. Besides, probably wouldn't be quite the same.
Tomorrow we are off to a winery tour that focuses on using the five sense when wine tasting. I'm not so looking forward to how differently wine might feel. I'll let you know how that goes. Did realize that I've spent the last threee years teaching the five senses to kindergarteners...I wonder how this experience might influence future lessons. Maybe I can use old milk or OJ. Hmm.
On Sunday we need to catch the 5:30 am train to make our flight to England. These early mornings...I don't even get up that early for work!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
That's MY Island
Well, I'm once again in the land of chocolate and cow bells. Arrived a little early, which was nice considering I'd had some "trouble" on my flights. I'll sum it up with one seat companion got in a fight with the stewardess and police action was threatened, and I fainted. Neither had anything to do with the other. But I'm fine, no police came, and now I'm here! Tonight we actually went for a concert (French rap) and a cocktail making get-together.
The latter involved a group of Debbie's extended friends meeting in an oo-la-la bar and learning how to make kick ass drinks from cute bartenders. It didn't suck. We're home now, and I'm going to toddle off to bed and take a miracle sleeping pill. Tomorrow is D's b-day, and Sunday we are off to the UK. I did learn on my flight that Ireland is an island. I think I knew that at some point, but it had escaped me. So we need to figure how we will get from Scotland to Dublin. I guess taking a car is out of the question...I realized just now (see the above title) my favorite character in Bravehearts' best line.
Anyway....night-night!
The latter involved a group of Debbie's extended friends meeting in an oo-la-la bar and learning how to make kick ass drinks from cute bartenders. It didn't suck. We're home now, and I'm going to toddle off to bed and take a miracle sleeping pill. Tomorrow is D's b-day, and Sunday we are off to the UK. I did learn on my flight that Ireland is an island. I think I knew that at some point, but it had escaped me. So we need to figure how we will get from Scotland to Dublin. I guess taking a car is out of the question...I realized just now (see the above title) my favorite character in Bravehearts' best line.
Anyway....night-night!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
First in a Series
So Brad's kid is due today. So far, no kid in sight. I did write this sonnet about a week ago in anticipation of the big event. I heard about creating a "sonnet wreath" in which you write a series of sonnets about a particular subject and add on to the series by taking the last line of the previous one and making that the first line of the next one. So the subject will be nephew __________. I'm a big fan of Kevin because that is the name of the boy who chased me in kindergarten. Plus capital K's are just good looking letters.
I don't profess that this is any good mind you. Sonnets can only have 10 syllables per line and need to have every other syllable accented. Which makes rhyming in an abab pattern quite difficult. See, it rhymes on paper, but you can't hear it when you read it out loud. Except the last four line stanza. And the last two lines need to rhyme and present some sort of unexpected change. You should try it. It is hard, but kinda like a puzzle. And it makes your vocabulary (or thesaurus) work overtime.
What I Imagine
It’s the 19th on which we’re set to meet:
But earlier than thought I am hearing,
“He’s just been born!” and my heart skips a beat,
To think that Brad’s a dad, eyes start tearing.
Fidgeting fingers and ten twinkley toes,
Your head trumps Nathan’s and now I’ve just seen,
That there’s no escape from the Bamford nose,
A tow-head no doubt, not one titian gene.
I’ll hold you on this your only birth day,
Perfect white skin a magnet for kisses,
Is an honor and gift, for which I’ll pay,
All that I have, plus three magic wishes.
But aunts ask questions not all of them sweet,
“Can-those-be-Foss tiny fingers and feet?”
I don't profess that this is any good mind you. Sonnets can only have 10 syllables per line and need to have every other syllable accented. Which makes rhyming in an abab pattern quite difficult. See, it rhymes on paper, but you can't hear it when you read it out loud. Except the last four line stanza. And the last two lines need to rhyme and present some sort of unexpected change. You should try it. It is hard, but kinda like a puzzle. And it makes your vocabulary (or thesaurus) work overtime.
What I Imagine
It’s the 19th on which we’re set to meet:
But earlier than thought I am hearing,
“He’s just been born!” and my heart skips a beat,
To think that Brad’s a dad, eyes start tearing.
Fidgeting fingers and ten twinkley toes,
Your head trumps Nathan’s and now I’ve just seen,
That there’s no escape from the Bamford nose,
A tow-head no doubt, not one titian gene.
I’ll hold you on this your only birth day,
Perfect white skin a magnet for kisses,
Is an honor and gift, for which I’ll pay,
All that I have, plus three magic wishes.
But aunts ask questions not all of them sweet,
“Can-those-be-Foss tiny fingers and feet?”
The Last Four Weeks
Reflection on ISI 07
When I first entered the ISI program, I was excited about all the great writing I was going to create. Our first task, to write about our name left me stumped. But I figured it was ok, I mean what can you really say about the name Karin Victoria? Well, Karin Smith and Victoria showed me in quick succession that there is a lot you can say, and I suddenly wished I’d written their pieces. Mine was lame. I thought I was out of my league, and decided to be the selective mute of the group. But over time and through gaining confidence from my writing group, I found I had a voice and a desire to share and impress the people I have come to admire, enjoy and like a great deal.
In my normal life (outside Sweeney Hall that is), I find myself frequently wondering/worrying/obsessing over the way I am perceived by those around me. People rarely take the time to tell you, either professionally or socially, unless you’re about to get fired, dumped or engaged. And you never forget those conversations…but it’s unusual that as adults you walk into situations with a clean slate and are evaluated on the merit of your actions from that day forward.
For me, this class has been an opportunity to hear people’s honest reactions to something I’ve created and to take the time to share mine with them. One of the best experiences I’ve had this summer was also the quietest. Anne shared a piece in the afternoon group that had started as a prompt about someone’s hands and evolved into a devastating and gripping short story. After explaining how great I thought it was, I asked questions to clarify things I didn’t understand, and made a couple small suggestions (one was I didn’t know what the word supine meant, so I thought she should change it). She listened took some notes and I thought that was it.
I was surprised and touched when she came up to me the next day and expressed how happy and satisfied she was with my edits. I also received the following note:
“You are my first editor. How incredibly fortunate I am that you listened to my first ever short story that day.”
To be able to help someone who I think is crazy talented and have her to be thankful to me is an amazing feeling.
I’m not much of a planner when I can avoid it, so I came here with no set plan on what I was going to take away with me. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of teaching high school and college literature, but was scared because I didn’t think I could edit the work of others. I believe stupid maxims, i.e. those who can’t do, teach. So I figured I should probably teach math in high school. Thanks to Anne’s honest feedback and those of my other peers, the knowledge I’ve garnered about my profession and myself is inspiring. I see myself now as an evolving educational professional with many avenues of opportunities to explore. And papers to edit.
When I first entered the ISI program, I was excited about all the great writing I was going to create. Our first task, to write about our name left me stumped. But I figured it was ok, I mean what can you really say about the name Karin Victoria? Well, Karin Smith and Victoria showed me in quick succession that there is a lot you can say, and I suddenly wished I’d written their pieces. Mine was lame. I thought I was out of my league, and decided to be the selective mute of the group. But over time and through gaining confidence from my writing group, I found I had a voice and a desire to share and impress the people I have come to admire, enjoy and like a great deal.
In my normal life (outside Sweeney Hall that is), I find myself frequently wondering/worrying/obsessing over the way I am perceived by those around me. People rarely take the time to tell you, either professionally or socially, unless you’re about to get fired, dumped or engaged. And you never forget those conversations…but it’s unusual that as adults you walk into situations with a clean slate and are evaluated on the merit of your actions from that day forward.
For me, this class has been an opportunity to hear people’s honest reactions to something I’ve created and to take the time to share mine with them. One of the best experiences I’ve had this summer was also the quietest. Anne shared a piece in the afternoon group that had started as a prompt about someone’s hands and evolved into a devastating and gripping short story. After explaining how great I thought it was, I asked questions to clarify things I didn’t understand, and made a couple small suggestions (one was I didn’t know what the word supine meant, so I thought she should change it). She listened took some notes and I thought that was it.
I was surprised and touched when she came up to me the next day and expressed how happy and satisfied she was with my edits. I also received the following note:
“You are my first editor. How incredibly fortunate I am that you listened to my first ever short story that day.”
To be able to help someone who I think is crazy talented and have her to be thankful to me is an amazing feeling.
I’m not much of a planner when I can avoid it, so I came here with no set plan on what I was going to take away with me. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of teaching high school and college literature, but was scared because I didn’t think I could edit the work of others. I believe stupid maxims, i.e. those who can’t do, teach. So I figured I should probably teach math in high school. Thanks to Anne’s honest feedback and those of my other peers, the knowledge I’ve garnered about my profession and myself is inspiring. I see myself now as an evolving educational professional with many avenues of opportunities to explore. And papers to edit.
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