The Glowing Edge

Tag: school

  • The Maker: Where I’m From

    The Maker: Where I’m From

    This poem made my eyes fill with tears when the Maker read it to me. Maybe because he’s the youngest, maybe because there were so many unexpected insights offered, line after line. I can’t decide whether it’s very twelve (years old) and boy (so much food!), or entirely, surprisingly, out of the boundaries of that sort of reckoning.

    Whatever it is, I find it rare and beautiful…

    Recaptured below with original spelling intact:

    Where I’m From

    I am from rich coffie, from

    busted paintballs to sizzling

    bacon. I am from calm scent to

    blasted remixes. I am from the

    faint russtle of leaves to the loud

    obnoxious alarm of five o-clock.

    I am from my bright red

    guitar, from soft flannel P.J.’s.

    I’m from juicy grapefruit to

    crispy bacon, from dry lips in

    the morning. I’m from crunchy,

    sweet, and yummy. Dark to light,

    bland to rich. I’m from down

    at the rock, from heartless school

    desks, to campfire chats.

    I am me.

  • Creepy Skeleton Guy

    Creepy Skeleton Guy

    Not too long ago this weird little creature started showing up in his freaky poses all over my kitchen. One day he was resting in peace on a carefully folded tissue pallet in the windowsill; another day he and his death-defying grin suddenly appeared on the chair in the study.

    He has a nice heft to him, none of that papery, light feeling you expect from a skeleton; and he actually makes a very pleasant sound when you rattle him. He jingles. Santa Skeleton.

    The Maker crafted him from clay — which was fired by one of his teachers — then he carefully assembled the pieces with white yarn and toted him home, where he haunts our house with his feverish grin. Whenever he starts to get to me, I pick him up and jingle him, and his creep factor diminishes.

    He probably hates that I keep killing his skeleton cred.

  • Drawing is Relaksing

    Drawing is Relaksing

    The Maker is new to public school, and one of the delightful things he’s discovered is that his teacher has a “Read, Write, or Draw” period every day. The first time she introduced this he made himself a book, of which this is the first page. He’s been a book-maker for years, and loves to compose and illustrate them. This one in particular tickled me because of the phonetic spelling.

    My favorite part is the very “relaksing” visual. Ahh, just feel the peace.

  • First Day of Public School

    First Day of Public School

    All three of our boys have been homeschooled. Two years ago the First decided he wanted to go to public school for his 7th grade year, and he made the transition beautifully. Last year the Ice followed him, and had his first year of middle school. This year the Maker was ready to take his turn, and will be in fourth grade. (They really do get younger every year.)

    The Maker had selected his outfit (pictured) and kitted up his camo backpack well in advance. When his dad was going through the backpack one last time to make sure his pencils, notebook, and signed forms were all present and accounted for, he saw a new addition: a recorder.

    “Uh, Honey, what do you need this for?” he asked, stumped.

    “It’s my recorder,” the Maker replied, as if it weren’t patently obvious. His parents can be so obtuse.

    “You’re probably not going to need that… uh, today.” The thought of future recorder lessons crossed both our minds: oh fun! The Husband glanced at me over the Maker’s head. I gave him the nod: It’ll be fine.

    “It’s a Yamaha,” the Maker explained, as if to dispel the last of our doubts… about something.

    “But, then again, I think it’ll be fine,” his dad offered, as they zipped the backpack up again. “You know, I’m pretty sure Billy Joel kept a recorder with him on the road to compose with.”

    “Yeah,” I said, ready for my opening, “‘Cause a  piano won’t fit in a backpack.”

    We all nodded solemnly, sagely.

    Don’t know if Billy Joel’s was a Yamaha, though.