So there’s a growing list of Things I’ve been meaning to post about, but, well …
… here. Have a baby jaguar cam.
You’re welcome.
(Via lnhammer. But you knew that, right?)
Blog
Just found out my Mom’s partner passed away, so will be offline for a few days while we head to NY to see her. Probably behind on email as well … will catch up when we return!
On neighborhood schools and school closures
I was stunned yesterday to discover that my local school, Sewell Elementary, is on the TUSD (Tucson Unified School District) closure list. Stunned partly because no one wants to see their community school close–I watch kids and families walk to this school every day, and so I know just how strong a part of the surrounding community Sewell is–and also stunned because this is one of the district’s more successful schools, and so choosing it for closure just doesn’t make any sense, and does the entire district a disservice.
Sewell is also in a part of the city where, within a five mile radius, several other neighborhood elementary schools have closed already.
If you’re a Tucsonan who cares about this and would like to see Sewell (or any of the schools on the closure list) stay open, TUSD has a form for comments here. (I also sent copies of my comments to my state legislators, because the budget problems that put closing Sewell on the table began at the state level.)
No matter where you live, if you’re up for doing something more concrete, there’s also a campaign to raise $50,000 to secure permanent portables and so increase the school’s capacity. This won’t guarantee Sewell stays open (and funds will go to a local literacy charity if it doesn’t), but it will improve the school’s chances.
Thanks for listening. For now, I’m remaining hopeful that if enough people speak up, the district will reconsider.
The least we can do is try, for the sake of our community and our city.
“I think of you whenever life gets me down / I think of you whenever you’re not around”
Dear Tertiary Character No One But Me and My Early Critiquers Will Ever Know,
Taking you out of this book solves So Many Problems.
It’s awesome.
You … don’t agree?
I … don’t understand.
Me
“You’re so nice and you’re so smart / you’re such a good friend I have to break your heart”
Dear Shapeshifting Secondary Character Who Thinks She Isn’t Very Good At Being Human,
Oh, SSCWTSIVGABH. Part of being human is being bad at it.
You just don’t have enough experience to know that yet, that’s all.
Me
Mid-afternoon music break
Spoken and sung by anyone else, this would probably be a little irritating. Spoken and sung by Ethel Merman, it’s rather nice. And makes me smile.
(Via lnhammer.)
“I am the master”
Also known as your afternoon silliness:
“I am the master”
“First by mind, then by music / You’ll make this all less confusing”
Today in yoga class we did a simple partner pose, one we’ve done before. Basically, it involves facing in opposite directions, letting palms and forearms touch (right to right or left to left), and then pushing against each other while turning in opposite directions.
This results in a great stretch through shoulder and chest, but like all partner poses … like all yoga poses … it’s more complicated than that.
Because you’re constantly adjusting, figuring out how much your partner can/wants to push, adjusting how much you can/want to push in turn. Figuring out how strong each of you are that day, and so respecting not only your own edge, as one does in all yoga, but also someone else’s.
Needless to say, this can be tricky.
Outside of yoga class, in human relationships of all sorts, it’s even trickier. Knowing your own boundaries, knowing other people’s boundaries, knowing how to make adjustments both when you’ve pushed too far and when you haven’t pushed enough. It seems on the surface that pushing too hard is the real danger, but pushing too little, or not at all, is just as problematic. One means you topple other people over. The other means they topple you.
Two-person poses require trust. Trust that the other person won’t knock you over, but also trust that they’ll let you know when you’re about to knock them over. Trust that when you push, someone will push back, because otherwise you both just wind up on the floor.
Though in yoga, winding up on the floor, or falling out of a pose in any way, isn’t all that big a deal. More than one teacher has reminded me that wobbling and losing your balance is as much a part of a pose as staying in it.
It’s by falling out of poses that I’ve learned (and forgotten, and learned again), that it all goes better if you can fall down laughing.
“First by mind, then by music / You’ll make this all less confusing”
Today in yoga class we did a simple partner pose, one we’ve done before. Basically, it involves facing in opposite directions, letting palms and forearms touch (right to right or left to left), and then pushing against each other while turning in opposite directions.
This results in a great stretch through shoulder and chest, but like all partner poses … like all yoga poses … it’s more complicated than that.
Because you’re constantly adjusting, figuring out how much your partner can/wants to push, adjusting how much you can/want to push in turn. Figuring out how strong each of you are that day, and so respecting not only your own edge, as one does in all yoga, but also someone else’s.
Needless to say, this can be tricky.
Outside of yoga class, in human relationships of all sorts, it’s even trickier. Knowing your own boundaries, knowing other people’s boundaries, knowing how to make adjustments both when you’ve pushed too far and when you haven’t pushed enough. It seems on the surface that pushing too hard is the real danger, but pushing too little, or not at all, is just as problematic. One means you topple other people over. The other means they topple you.
Two-person poses require trust. Trust that the other person won’t knock you over, but also trust that they’ll let you know when you’re about to knock them over. Trust that when you push, someone will push back, because otherwise you both just wind up on the floor.
Though in yoga, winding up on the floor, or falling out of a pose in any way, isn’t all that big a deal. More than one teacher has reminded me that wobbling and losing your balance is as much a part of a pose as staying in it.
It’s by falling out of poses that I’ve learned (and forgotten, and learned again), that it all goes better if you can fall down laughing.
Mirrored from Desert Dispatches: WordPress Edition.