Goin Shopping

Once in a while I go a little crazy while shopping for clothes. It doesn't happen very often--not often enough to call these cyclic binges or anything. But every now and then (every few years perhaps) the mood strikes me, fortuitously or unfortunately in tandem with the zeitgeist of shopping bargains, and I buy big bags of clothes and shoes.
It is perhaps understandable that I buy shoes whenever they are available. This opportunity may not after all arise again for years, given my small feet, which are delicate and sensitive. The shoes must not only be the right size but the right configuration to be wearable with my corns.
But truthfully, I have closets full of clothes and probably no real need for new ones. Yet I do buy them, mostly at charity consignment stores. The items at some of these places are unique, and are not generally the sorts of things I would ever be able to afford or would even see in the places I generally shop, so I indulge myself, for charity, spending very small amounts for individual items, but it adds up. I feel sometimes like a collector of art, though the things I collect are hardly art. Yet adorning the body is something I take to as naturally as a primeval warrior applying war paint or feathers. It is a way of celebrating the body and the spirit.
I do not read or pay attention to fashion magazines, but I gleefully indulge in color and style of my own choosing, for the same reason that I enjoy variety in food and the rest of my life. It's part of being myself, of being alive.

Another Youngun

A student had to drop today because his parents made him, he said. He must be very young. I knew he was under 18, but maybe he is very very young, like that other person who was in my class. He wouldn't say why, but asked if he could stay anyway because he was interested in the class. I said no because I didn't think that was quite kosher. He had officially dropped, after all, and I know auditing is not allowed, even though he has already paid the tuition. I tell any parents who ask me to permit their very young students to add that it is not advisable, that this is an adult class, and I mean it. I suppose they have found that out when they see the material we are working with.

Not on the home market right now after all...

R. has decided that since the U has cut employee's salaries 8% for the foreseeable future, we should not buy a house. I know he was nervous about it anyhow.
I suppose the worst that could happen in this department is that the price of homes and/or interest rates will shoot back up, and we will be priced out of the market again. That will mean that we will not be able to stay here after he retires. If I am forced to leave the area, I won't like that. I have finally found a place where I am comfortable, and I'd like to keep living here. However, it is possible I might like other places as well, as long as I could work, go to yoga, and find a suitable synagogue. Seems like a tall order.

The Incredible Shrinking Class

As I expected, after giving out grade reports and the graded first paper set yesterday, two more students dropped the class. One of them was failing. The other one had simply missed too much and was not devoting much work to the class; therefore, he was not seeing grades he found to be acceptable. He no doubt wants to try it again another time, perhaps in the regular semester.
The classroom, one I dislike anyway because it is so overstuffed with furniture that it is hard to make your way from the door to the front of the room, looks like a mouth missing too many teeth. There are big gaps between students, and the students huddle in small and consistent groups. This group never really cohered. It is odd that one can teach the same material several weeks apart to different groups and have entirely different results. I do not like the way this class is going. I do see improvements in their writing, but I often feel as if I am not communicating well with them, for some reason. It's almost impossible to get them to answer questions or to engage in discussion. I guess that's the way it is sometimes.
I suppose I'm glad that this will be a short semester, and I will be on to two other groups and a completely different class. I wouldn't be surprised if some of these guys and the ones from the previous session end up in one of those classes though. Combined into a different group, the chemistry will be different anyhow.

Unbelievable

One of my students just dropped today. That's not surprising, given the time in the semester it is--more than half way through a 6 week semester in which some people, too many really, aren't doing very well or working at all hard. But what is surprising is that I'm told she was 13 years old! Usually people have to ask permission to put a 13 year old in my class, but I guess for some reason this parent didn't. Perhaps she knew someone, was friends with a dean or something, or perhaps she is considered to be a genius. I thought she was quite bright, but incapable, all the same of understanding the things we were discussing. No wonder! How could a 13 year old be capable of making sage assertions about relationships or about life? 18 is bad enough. Genius or not, she is a child. It must be difficult to be a child genius. You don't fit in anywhere. In math or science, age doesn't matter. That's why so many discoveries in those fields are made by extremely young people. But in writing and literature, 13 is pretty young... too young to hold your own in a class full of adults, no matter how smart you are. The subject matter is just beyond a 13 year old. But parents never believe me when I tell them that.

New Picture

The picture I've placed above is my family. In the tall background is Richard and my cousin Andy. Then there's dad with the walker, me, my cousin Mignon, and mom.

Difficult Class

Today the class gets its first paper back. That is never a pleasant day because these students are often so clueless that they don't realize that even though they have not done much of the work and haven't done that well on what they have done, they are going to get failing grades. That's not all of them of course, but way too many, and unnecessarily in many cases in this class. They just don't take a hint. But today they get grade reports, in addition to their first papers. It is often a big shock. I don't give papers back until the end of the class, or the grade reports either, and I have a rule that I don't discuss grades with anyone for 24 hours after they get them. That takes care of most irate students.
In addition to grades, this class does not discuss things well. Probably they are not prepared to. With a couple of exceptions, it is clear they are not watching the film again. It isn't really possible to discuss it without watching it again. I show bits and pieces, of course, but that isn't sufficient to do the writing and discussion. I am hoping that they get the point and do the work, those who still have some hope of passing.