My Mailbox

The Teacher’s Mailroom. It’s a relic from the past. Boxes that serve as a repositories for things better ignored via email. Every once in a while the cluttered box proves its worth. I get a special treat from someone like a thank you note or a card with a...

A Little Like Christmas

There was a box from Amazon at the door. I forgot what I ordered. I opened it up. Coffee. Another one came two days later. A carrier for my lunch tin and copies of my friend’s book. Cool.  I don’t buy a lot of stuff, but when I do, I forget it’s on...

Nobody Bought the Farm

“I like what you’re doing to the place,” I say to the man working at the farm stand. I’m getting a couple of onions and putting in my order for B Grade tomatoes. It’s what I do. Forage, trade, find, and pick food, and then preserve it. I...

Friending the Pope on Facebook

The Pope crossed my Facebook stream. I wondered if it was really the Pope. I’ve friended Jesus H. Christ, Jesus M. Christ, and Jesus (Plain) Christ already, just to make sure I get the right one. I couldn’t find the Buddha on Facebook but Rumi is on...

Work Less. Smile.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she said. “I can’t teach first graders to sit for 180 days. I don’t even have time for my own kids.” Do you feel this way? Here’s two from my playbook: “I just corrected two hundred fifty packets and didn’t cook...