To keep my coffee cozy

There's nothing better than a hot cup of coffee.  I love coffee.   So I knit something to show my coffee just how much I care.  I made a little cozy to keep my coffee warm.  I think there's something silly about a coffee cozy, usually people make tea cozies.  And I like tea, but not as much as I like coffee.   It reminds me of the people I like: strong, full-bodied... um bitter..?  I don't know what I was trying to get at there, but coffee is where its at.

I'm sure that's why I got 150 dollars worth of Starbucks gift cards for Christmas last year.

Want to keep your own coffee cozy? Use a Bulky Wool of your choice, and on US Size 11 needles, cast on 20 sts.

Knit in double moss stitch until long enough to go around your coffee press, and cast off.

Sew the ends together leaving a space for the handle to come through.  I added a button to the bottom of mine to keep it closed.  And the button I had was really cute.

Spectacles! (Or more appropriately, how the optometrist doesn't think I'm funny)

My new glasses

My partner D and I decided to go on the wildly expensive adventure of getting our eyes checked, and getting new glasses yesterday.

When we got to the office, I embarrassed D by not letting him check us in until I had checked the credentials of the optometrist.  I looked at the diplomas and made sure they were real schools and not like University of Phoenix Online; I asked for the doctor's license number, you know all the stuff neurotic people do when seeing a new doctor.  Everything checked out (Thank goodness!) and we checked in.  I forgot to mention that we were the only people in the place, and the receptionist was not as enthusiastic about my thoroughness.

We had our "pre-screening"  and D went first.  Through the door, I could hear a lot of laughing and conversation.  That's cool, D's a charming guy.  Apparently, listening through the door of a medical office is not cool, or so I was told went they caught me listening.  It was my turn, and being a woman who knows what she wants, I demanded the same level of jovial conversation as D had.  Needless to say, I didn't get it.  And I think the "tester" was overzealous with that puff of air in my eyes too.

Now it was time for the real deal.  I saw the doctor.  We talked about my last eye test (10 years ago) and set to the task.  I rocked those big letters.  I was good on the medium letters.  I guessed the small letters.  I got them wrong.  I asked if anyone ever got those letters.  She said, "Yep, people who can see."

It was not going well.

Next slide.  I guessed.  And I got them right!  But the doc guessed I was guessing.

Next slide: I guessed again.  The doctor said, "Oh, come on! Just tell me you can't see them."

I said, "I can't see them."

She said, "are you saying that becasue I told you to?"

Me, "Yes."

Then she asked me to read the letters I could see.  So I did.  I needed glasses.  She said I should wear them all the time.  I said that we both knew that wouldn't happen, so I asked when were the most important times to wear them.  Begrudgingly, she told me while driving and at night.  Deal.

The doctor warned me that with my new glasses, I would be wobbly, and the floor would look uneven.  I may stumble a little for the first few days.

I said, "that's ok.  I'll just start drinking now.  At least I can have fun while working these new glasses."

Then she told me to get out.  It's too bad I only have to see her once a year.

Sloppy thirds and fourths (graders)

Yikes.

This is what my workspace looks like in the middle of the day.  You like neatness?  Don't teach 3rd grade. 

We used all those sheets for togas this afternoon.

Instead of counting sheep, count embarrassment

There are few things I really love to do:  and sleep is high on that list.  And nothing is worse than when a good sleep is ripped away from my tiny hands on a work night.

Insomnia, you are definitely not a friend of mine.

Instead of counting sheep, here's a list of funny happenings/things I said to the students on our field trip last week:




One of the girls was goofing around on the subway, and she fell right into the lap of a cute high school boy.  She was so embarrassed, and had the pinkest cheeks I ever saw.  She looked at me, and I said, "Do you feel like a goat?"

Confused she looked at me and asked, "like a goat?"

I replied, "Baaa-aaa-ad?"



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I let the girls buy some candy for the ride home on our field trip.  One of the girls bought a box of Nerds.  (Remember Nerds?! Definitely a cool choice.)  She was studying the box intently while we were on the subway.

I tapped her on the shoulder, and when she looked up I said, "Looking for a picture of yourself, Nerd?"

She giggled.  I giggled.  The guy in the seat beside her giggled.  It was a good ride.

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My students love to sing.  They sing anytime.  And the music of their 8 year-old lives, is not exactly the soundtrack  would choose to live by.   I often have to tell them, "there is a time and place to sing.  And this is not one of them."

Sitting on the crowded city bus, I heard a little voice start singing, "Sparks Fly" by Taylor Swift.  The voice inside my head said, "that has to be one of mine."  Before I could say anything, all of them started singing "Sparks Fly."  Loudly.  On a crowded bus.  I told them the bus driver probably would want us to stop becasue he didn't like Taylor Swift.  He said, "no its fine.  I like it."  The only talking bus driver in all of Toronto wouldn't back me up.  So then I though a compromise would be in order; I asked them to sing Sarah McLachlan song, "Ice Cream."  So they did.  Then a passenger on the bus said, "Whoa, they take requests.  Can you sing some Bon Jovi?"

And all my 8 and 9 year-old students started to sing, "Living On A Prayer."

I still don't even know how they knew that song.