The last of my parent conferences are tomorrow, so I won't be teaching Shakespeare. Well, I'll be on campus, which means I'll pop in and eavesdrop to make sure the substitute has no idea what he or she is doing. Because if a sub knows what he's doing, then that is a sure sign of the Apocalypse. They're usually bad, real bad. And I like it that way. When I return, my students thank me for coming back and beg to never have (insert name here) as a substitute again. Appreciation breeds respect.
But today was innovative. For the first time, we had a slide whistle (for sound effects) in class. It was ten degrees of coolness times twelve, which equals a good portion of 100 percent of reverse global warming.
We used the slide whistle for the part when Puck and Oberon put the flower's "love" juice on the eyes of Lysander and Titania. As I mentioned, it was cooler than a Midsummer's Eve in Antarctica.
Hey, there's a few boy names! Lysander. Oberon. Puck. What about Starveling? Now that's original.
BTW - I was driving home the other day. Blondie was in her car seat behind me. I said, "We need to find a man to fix your bike helmet. Well, maybe I can fix it."
Blondie said, "You're not a man, you're a boy!" And then she started laughing.
That's another sign of the Apocalypse. (I've stolen this category of events from Sports Illustrated. I am guilty. Seize the thief of these noble words!)
At the plate: The Maze Runner, by James Dashner
On Deck: The Order of Odd-Fish, by James Kennedy
In the hole: No idea, but I'm really into Jameses right now. Any other suggestions written by James _________.
Running: Too cold. ;-)
Writing: MG novel. Writing in Scrivener for Macs and loving it.
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