wind

On first day, after meeting, I worked in my classroom a few hours and got some books from the library. The five o’clock sun was in a brilliant blue sky to my left as I walked down the road in a spritzing rain (pelo del gato). A full glimmering rainbow (el arco iris) arched over the treetops to my right. I heated a bowl of Friday’s soup (purple cabbage, potatoes, onions, garlic, corn, jalapenos) and flipped a couple apple pancakes onto my plate. Then, I had supper while sunset colors glowed through la bosque le circunda mi cabina.

This past week I was extremely occupied with all of the plotting and implementing that most third or fourth grade teachers do to get their students to understand and accomplish long division, poetry, comparison charts, and continue with their study of human anatomy.
Letters arrived from my students’ pen pals in Thailand. (the beauty of email) This week, amidst the other literacy projects, my students will be composing their letters for me to send.

Happily, chorus rehearsals have begun. We are learning part of Faure’s Requiem for Semana Santa and some opera favorites for a program in May.

The wind is quite astounding. Unfortunately, my kite kids couldn’t get our box kites up into the air above the sheltering trees by the grave yard. We tried to use the larger soccer field but two other classes were in the field and our edge of the field was sheltered by tall trees.
I may talk with a neighboring dairy farmer to use a field adjoining the school property. This week I hope to construct a tetrahedral kite designed by Alexander Graham Bell. Building kites and flying kites is a mini-course that I offer on Thursday afternoons. Just wondering, if people who explore caves are called spelunkers, what do you call people who fly kites?

Saturday evening I enjoyed a Beatles extravaganza. Talented musicians performed dozens of Beatle tunes at a performance space in Cerro Plano. This benefit for Creativa began with vocalists & acoustic guitars, then a string section, and grew to a large electric band. It was fantastic.

The cabin temperatures hover around 15 or 16 degrees (59F?) in the evening and morning, so I am very happy that I have an electric blanket. Most nights I am in bed with a book by eight o’clock. The gale through the trees sounds like ocean waves. I am reminded of a Brinton Turkle story called, Do Not Open. Miss Moody gleefully reads in her bed during an ominous storm, while Captain Kidd (her cat) cowers beneath a corner of her quilt. I, too, wonder what joys will await me in the morning light.