flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

May 23, 2008

Taking Coveting to a New Level

I still listen to the local talk radio on my way to work each morning - it helps me keep in touch with my race identity. (Don't you love the jargon? I can almost say it with a straight face these days.) One of the stories I've wanted to blog about but haven't found the time is this one.

Bucks County is still pretty much pastoral burb. It's the last burb that hasn't really been Phillyfied. Murder is not common there.

Murder in a CHURCH is unheard of.

Rather, it was, until this January.

Rhonda Smith was found shot to death in a church basement in January. The locals were completely wigged (rightfully so). But imagine their surprise when it was one of their own? Mary Jane Fonder, a woman who made a PIE for the grieving parents of the victim, was arrested in April for the shooting.

She was jealous of Smith's relationship with the pastor.

This whole case reads like a Miss Marple come to life. I mean, is this woman actually wearing a muumuu?

To thicken the plot, Fonder's own elderly father disappeared some 15 years ago under suspicious circumstances. I vaguely remember the story - he "wandered off" never to be seen again. The gun they suspect she used on Smith was purchased the year her father, who I understand was writing her out of his will, disappeared.
dun da dun dun. Real life imitating pulp.

Doesn't It Just Figure

I'm taking today off (my first and only personal day!) to celebrate the Moth's nativity. Yesterday, I woke up sneezing with a sore throat. By last night, it was fever, sweats, inability to swallow... Spring colds stink, but usually I don't get them. I guess this is my punishment for taking a day off.

We're going to ride on a steam train today and we're going to a place my husband detests. But I hear it's great for little kids. The last time we went to the Village, we were poor grad students and we were hanging out with some muckety mucks. They simply didn't comprehend that we couldn't spend more than $10 for lunch. So we drank water and split an appetizer while they had a full meal. It stuck with John for a long time, and he associated it with the place. I'm guessing it's actually kind of nice. They have this "giggleberry fair" thing for kids. It may be awful. I'm betting Stinky and the Moth love it, though.

I wonder if Stinky's school will mark this as an unexcused absence and take us to truancy court. Now, that would be interesting! Our school did that to my parents once - my brother stayed home for something they didn't think was excusable. Consider that most of us had close to perfect attendance (our mom believed if you were home, you were either working on the farm or you were laying down on the couch with no book, tv, radio, or anything else. Believe you me, school was the preferred option.)

One of my best students (she would be a best student in any school) got pulled into truancy court this week. She's missed 4 days total this year. Hell, I met one of my students for the FIRST TIME this week. I've been teaching since early February. I wonder if all of her absences are good?


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May 21, 2008


Today I was teaching about erosion. I had two baby food jars with a piece of hard candy and some water in them. In each class, I showed how both had weathered, but the one that had been shaken had dissolved much more.

It didn't fail - in each class I had at least 1 student ask for some candy. I knew this would happen. The deal I made with myself was that I would give a piece to any student who said please without being prompted.

I only gave away one piece of candy today.

I did, however, call one of my students a megabeyotch. She totally is one, btw, but I didn't mean to say it out loud. She thought that was funny and was actually better the rest of the class than she has been all semester.

Go figure.



May 08, 2008

shorty want a thug

Do you like my title? It's the only set of lyrics I know from Lil Wayne's song Lollipop. My girls thought it quite funny when I said them out loud yesterday. I always accentuate my whiteness, just to get them to laugh. It generally works.

Life as a city teacher is better. Much better. I've always made fun of that storm-norm-perform group work theory crap. I'm not much of an HR person. But since my university supervisor is gone, I finally feel like I can "norm" with my kids. And I'm having a bit of fun. Hence, the quote of this week's top pop 40 song.

I liked the Alicia Keys week better. Or Chris Brown. This thug crap is too close to my girls. I wish... oh well. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, as my dear mudder might say.


Life in the dusty aviary is the same old same old. Stinky and the Moth have joined baseball and t-ball, respectively. Now, I don't think I've posted on this before, and I'm too lazy to go look. So let me just say, t-ball is the strangest suburban tradition I've ever seen. Let all the kids hit, don't keep score, and stand around in the cold spring weather cheering them on. I told John he's on his own with this crap. I think it's pointless.

In fact, Sean's baseball team is a little better. They have a pitching machine, they count outs and runs. They have winners and losers. This might seem intuitively obvious, but they didn't used to keep score or have winners. It's about the game, not the competition. Right? Heh. the kids always kept score.

This was brought painfully to light when one of the kids cried at receiving "best sport" trophy - all the kids received trophys. When asked why he cried, he said that "best sport" was reserved for the worst player. The kids all understand waaaaay better than their parents might like.

I don't know who we think we're doing favors for, in the end. Life is not fair. There are winners and losers, and if you have no talent for sport, it's best to find that out and find out what you do have talent for. Padding our kids in cotton wool just makes the inevitable fall more painful, methinks. But that's just my opinion.


Tim has been funny as heck lately. He started singing a song last night - or as he might say, he started singing a song tomorrow. (he has a really tough time with tenses. go figure.) "ABCDEFG, Barbie is my enemy..." then he sang about nefarious downfalls for Barbie. Something about pooping on her head and green freckles on her face. (wonder where he got that from, Uncle Larry.).

Tim also has some funny mothisms - he says "bit" instead of "put" - "I bit it on the table". That was a weird one for us to figure out. But the boy has charisma. Not sure where he got it from. Not from me or John, for sure.

Not to be out-done, Stinky has taken his job of "class animal expert" to the extreme. His "job" in his class is to maintain the terrariums. Now, in all of my teaching classes, I have been told to give the problem ADHD kids "jobs" to make them feel important, keep them busy, and, best of all, contently out of your hair. Since Sean announced he has this "job", I'm wondering what a holy terror he must be in his classroom. But his teacher maintains that beyond being messy, he's a rule follower to the extreme (the perfect blend of John and I. Said it b4, say it again - poor kid).

He has homework every night and cries and whines every night as we do it. His handwriting is ATROCIOUS and I have taken to calling him chickenscratch, as that's what his dad used to be called in school. He doesn't like this. He calls me mean. Best he learns the truth at a young age, no?

But at the same time, he is so much fun. He constantly comes up with games (mostly battle and war games) and he likes all the same kind of tv shows and movies that I like. We're patiently waiting for Prince Caspian to come out - and Journey to the Center of the Earth. He even shares popcorn. Unlike his dad, he's a good movie date.


OK, well, the kids are starting to roll in. I have to go give a test. Yipee skipee. Wish them luck.


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