Part of Slice of Life Tuesday Slices on Two Writing Teachers! Join in and write on Tuesdays!
when I was 9 the summer after fourth-grade I moved far away heartbroken to leave my best friend We met, you know, when I was 3 and she was 4. she hid in her car sobbing while we packed the moving truck in my driveway I rode away sobbing kept sobbing every night of fifth-grade that was almost 40 years ago Would it make me seem younger if I said that was over 30 years ago? 38 years between then and now I moved back we went to college together she moved away there have been visits phone calls FaceTimes and today as I drove 14 minutes from my house to help unpack her moving truck here Just 14 minutes from my house. I wondered two things Would it help if I could tell 9 year-old me it’s going to be okay – What’s a few decades and miles between old friends. Also be patient. and hear me out here What is it that my future self wants to tell my today self will be okay?
Part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life. I’m writing on as many Tuesdays as I can… join me!
Where does your writing come from?
Sometimes I catch a line a phrase something someone says or sometimes some rhymes sometimes my fingers wiggle Wiggle? Do real writers use words like wiggle? Would you prefer joggle squirm jiggle? My fingers want to write so they move hopping hoping a keyboard materializes by the time my brain realizes how to possibly process what made me laugh or cry or most maybe most likely made me angry one day I’ll write about the breeze that floats through the trees in my backyard makes you believe those people who talk to trees I’ll find a way to describe the bird songs so you hear them the way they interrupt each other just in time so the short quick repeating chirp chirp chirp chirps don’t act like an alarm but a melody until then I’ll just notice things, my fingers will joggle I’ll write the words when I can catch them.
It’s Tuesday! Time for Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers! Plus, it’s April! So I’m writing poetry!
Dear Grocery Clerk, I didn’t want to be a jerk So I watched in silence didn’t threaten violence when you slowly bagged what didn’t need to be bagged and stuffed the bag into the bottom of my cart
I didn’t have my reusables and this was inexcusable so you bagged with hate I’m not here to debate but could you not consolidate? Did you have to bag while so irate? It’s fine, 4 bags for 20 cents was my fate The extra two in the bottom of my cart
It was so windy outside I swear I almost cried As the cart started to roll It was so hard to control I pulled, and I pulled the stuffed bag The 5-cent brown bag The I didn’t need a fourth one bag from the bottom of my cart
This slice if part of the Tuesday Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing as many Tuesdays as I can. Thanks for stopping by! It’s also April! That means poetry. Poetry is my favorite.
I tried to research a grouchy poem format. But, I couldn’t find one. So I decided to make my own. It could work with other feeling words, I’m sure. But right now I am very grouchy. Don’t take it too seriously though, writing it was fun.
I am feeling grouchy and that rhymes with slouchy which makes sense, especially when I’m sitting on the couch-y
I am feeling grumpy and that rhymes with frumpy which makes sense, especially when its all so Trump-y.
I am feeling irritable and that rhymes with uncharitable which makes sense, especially when life isn’t really editable
I am feeling snappish and that rhymes with brattish which make sense when happy seems to vanish
I am feeling bitchy and that rhymes with witchy which makes sense when days make me so twitchy
I am feeling snarky and that rhymes with malarkey which makes sense when life ain’t really a party
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I woke up around 5:45, and realized I was hearing my son taking out the garbage. At first I was sure this must have meant he never went to bed. A bunch of guys were over last night, and they didn’t have school today, so whatever.
But when I went downstairs and asked him, he said, “Nope. I told you I’d wake up at normal time and take out the trash. So I did.”
He even took all the trash out of the old trash can to put in the new trash can.
Yea. We have new trash cans, a new trash service actually, and it’s been a lot of drama about this new refuse collection. To be honest, it’s been annoying. A new service so you need a new trash can, and they promise it’s cheaper, but it doesn’t seem like that. And oh, you have to choose which trash can you want based on size. If you don’t choose, the large bin will be assigned to you. Your bill will be dependent on what bin size you choose, but you should probably get the big one anyway because anything outside of the trash can is going to cost extra, and by the way no more bulk trash, but you can get something extra picked up 4 times a year. But wait, is that four times or four things. And by the way don’t put your trash can out until the April 1st weekly collection but we will deliver it way earlier than that.
As I drove away this morning, I laughed to myself about all the drama of these stupid trash cans.
I texted my neighbor when I came home a month or so ago and saw the trash can had been dropped off in my driveway. It was confusing because I had just too many trash cans.
“Are we supposed to put these out?”
She sent me a picture of the tag which I hadn’t really read. Use it April 1st. Not before.
Okay. I will follow directions. So I stored the new trash can until today.
If I hadn’t been rushing this morning I would have stopped to take a picture of my new trash can on its first day at work. I thought about the funny signs I could have it hold up.
When I got home after school, I started to take my new trash can back in the garage, noticing that my son had already put the old trash can away, leaving space for the new trash can. I wondered if the new giant trash can would fit where the old one fit. I wondered when I could stop thinking about this stupid new trash can.
Then I realized it was still full.
I texted my neighbor.
“Did they pick up your trash?”
And then like a movie montage, I figured it out.
It’s March 31. The old trash truck came and wouldn’t pick up the new bin. The new trash truck doesn’t come until next week, after April 1, so no. . . it is not yet time to stop thinking about this new trash can drama.
I took the dog for a walk and noticed other people had the new trash cans out. I’m glad to not be so alone in my embarrassment.
Lucky for me when I checked the mail, I got the bill for the new trash collection, and an included flyer that reminded me to Begin to use your new cart on Tuesday, April 1. Do not use your cart before then.
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I first tried this format here, and then here originally from Ethical ELA: A True or False List Poem . . . There are some things that are true, there are some things that are false, and you’ll never really know!
My day, True or False?
Today I Bought 14 bagels Did not finish my coffee Cried with a friend in grief Read one chapter of Onyx Storm Went fishing at a Fisherman’s Paradise Saw a hill full of leaves turn into a hill full of snakes Walked over 10,000 steps and right by a man praying by the stream, hunched over with his head on a cloth Took a trail next to a path full of gravel Only talked to one of my three children Threw my wedding dress into a fire Watched my dog eat a guitar and a bone Only wrote one school email Changed my bra to go to dinner Drank a bottle of wine Or did I?
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
Did I tell you about the other day? My student teacher planned to plan a little during lunch.
So with 10 minutes left before the kids came back, I asked him if he wanted to look at the lesson.
He said he would in just a bit. “Sometimes I need to prioritize my sanity,” he said. Which is I think is the new lingo for self care. And then he started to add something to his explanation that has now become my favorite quote of the year.
“Sometimes I need to prioritize my sanity, which is something I know you …” his voiced trailed off a bit, and I started laughing as he continued “is something I know you don’t always do…”
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
Writing workshop time has started, and I have a few kids who have decided they’d like to work at my table. It’s my favorite, actually, this choice small group time. It feels like a luxury, as my student teacher is doing the heavy lifting of the mini lesson and the management.
“Ms. Gabriel, her coach’s name is Mr. Pickles,” One writer tells me. She’s writing about Lucy, who daydreams about swimming lessons, but she isn’t allowed to take them.
“Oh my goodness,” I say. “I hope you labeled that somewhere so you remember. It’s perfect!”
In front of me another writer, often reluctant, is writing up a storm. She pauses and says to me, “I’m writing some words big, but you won’t know why until the end.” Then she keeps writing. She wants me to start a timer to see how much she can write in ten minutes. Another student lets me know that sometimes timers distract her. We put the timer facing just the student who needs it.
“Is the Ms. Gabriel table open?” Someone asks
One of the writers already at the table answers for me, “Yes. And it isn’t any dollars today.”
Another writer walks up to the table and asks, “Ms. Gabriel, how do you spell screaming?”
“Screaming?” I ask. “Is this going to be a very very scary story? Too scary for me to read?”
She laughs and tells me, “No. She is going to open a present and scream because she’s so excited.”
I ask her to try writing the word on a sticky note and then I will check it. She gets it almost right, and we talk about the r sound in there, and also how the vowel team is an ea.
“Ms. Gabriel, can I have a sticky note?” a writer asks me. I tell her the sticky notes are in our student teacher’s hands. He’s standing right by and hands her a sticky note.
We talk for a minute, my student teacher and I, about what we should do next. How much time do the kids need for finishing this part of building their stories? He’s wondering about the kids who aren’t done with the part we did yesterday. I tell him that this is the amount of difference that I would expect in our workshop.
“As long as you think that the amount of people who are still working is okay —-“ he says.
“Absolutely.” I say, and we plan to keep working on Friday and next week, adding in dialogue details on Tuesday.
The writer’s timer goes off, and she looks down at how much she has written.
“You’ve written so much!” I say. “And class isn’t even over yet. You still have more time.”
Somehow, a few more students have joined the table and we have to do a little problem solving to fit everyone in.
My student teacher gives a heads up about the time we have left. I give a compliment to all the writers in the room. It’s my favorite kind of mid workshop teaching point. “I see so many writers labeling, adding details, using all kinds of sticky notes. . . What an amazing writing time! You should be feeling very proud.” Not only have I complimented some specific things, but I’ve also sneaky-style given some ideas for those writers who have forgotten the goals of the day.
My para, from her table across the room says, “We agree over at this table!” Students start writing again.
One of the writers who recently sat at my table, gives me some advice about my own story about a clumsy rock skipper. “If he gets a prize for doing the rock skipping, he’s going to drop that too!”
I’m so excited about his idea, the whole table is.
So now I have another teaching point.
“Now as a writer, what should I do? I am not at the end yet” I say, pointing to my sticky note story building. “How can I remember this?”
It’s unanimous. The writers at my table tell me I’m going to need to write that down — on a sticky note.
On a Thought 