The weekend flew by. On Saturday, I went to my hairdresser for color and cut, which took an hour and a half because she usually juggles several clients at the same time, but I enjoy it because I read the trashy, gossipy rags ("BRAD IS CHEATING ON ANGIE WITH THE NANNY!")and am not grading or reading for class. Amazingly, I don't have any gray to cover yet, but I like to have the color goldened up a notch with partial foils of high and low lights. I was happy with the results of both the color and the style. Before and after the appointment, I re-read To Kill a Mockingbird to refresh my memory on it. The rest of the day was spent grading, reading, planning. I'll never catch up with all the work I've given them, but I have to keep them busy every second. That's my classroom management philosophy. But boy, am I counting the days until the end of the semester. After today, 21 school days to be exact.
On Sunday, we were driving home from the usual trip to Wal-Mart but had taken a back road. I spotted an eye-catching tree in a front yard. It was covered with lemons which weren't even half as huge as the lemons on our tree. That's when I got the idea of starting a lemon tree in the front yard. Wouldn't that be pretty when the lemons are ripe?
I spent the rest of Sunday grading and printing. I have my own nice printer at home, and though I don't have to print there, I like to have everything ready when I go in, and not have to count on the school printer, which might have a line. Of course, Paul and I watched Cold Case at 9:30 (pushed up because of a football game, I guess.) Tonight, I'll have to read a pile of student's rough drafts of the research paper, worth 50 points out of the total 300 points.
Our wonderful President-Elect and wife were on Sixty Minutes last night, which I watched with half an eye while grading. I can't remember the interviewer's name, but he jokingly har-harred about how the Obamas would have to get used to their new puppy in the White House at the same time as they'd be getting used to having the Mother-in-Law there. It sounded so old-man-of-the fifties-chauvinistic women-are-bitches humor. But Barack rose a few more notches in my esteem when he replied smoothly, with an unruffled smile, "I'm not going to compare my mother-in-law with a dog" and went on to say how much he appreciated the time and hard work she'd devoted to the family during the campaign. It was a perfect response to deflect the interviewer's attempt to do a mother-in-law joke at the expense of the First Mother-in-Law. I wanted to shout, "YOU GO, Barack!"
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