My son went to his first day of preschool yesterday. My daughter turns three today. My wife teaches her first Pilates classes today. I am halfway through my third week of school in my ninth year of teaching in my fifth year of being the English Department of Falls City High School.

I just fell in love with a typewriter. My legs are sore and I’m going to try to run a 10k  5k next week. I keep meaning to do research about turtles because we have one in the backyard. I’m hoping to find a banjo to give to my wife for our 10th anniversary. My militant and disciplined writing schedule slowed down about a month ago when I realized that I should probably also include exercise and sleep into my daily life. I’m anxious to gain some momentum on some of my writing projects. It was hard to get out of my warm bed this morning, because it was a warm bed containing a beautiful woman. Blah. Blah. Lots of stuff going on.

I’m not exactly sure how to start this blog. I keep putting it off. But, obviously, like everything else, it won’t just happen on its own. I have been looking at a lot of blogs, outlining what I should focus on, what my goals are, and who I am and all that. I started taking a class called Intentional Blog that is helping me through the process. I have been avoiding this for years feeling like I should be doing it, resenting that feeling, and then just I don’t know, not doing it. I think my first blog was started in 2001 ish and I wasn’t sure what I was doing or why, and it fizzled out pretty quickly. I have tried starting class websites, and “this is me!” update kind of things over the years so I wouldn’t have to be on Facebook. These all fizzled out quickly because I really wasn’t clear on why I was doing it. I’ve always felt like blogs were sort of like someone flashing passing traffic. I’m still wrestling with all that.

I think I know why I started this blog. I’m excited to share this with you over the next indeterminate amount of time. My first step is to get going, start getting in the habit. It’s weird. I tell my students a lot of things about just getting started and knowing that what you do isn’t going to be great at first. It’s not supposed to be. And so we write sloppy first drafts, and we stand up and beatbox and rap to get over all those feelings of insecurity and all that. And yet, when it comes to me, it’s hard to listen to myself. Yeah. Yeah.

So here we go. And speaking of going, I should probably go to school. I realized that it’s probably good that we do have small class periods and the bell dismisses kids because sometimes we get to strange places in class. Recently the bell has dismissed us while we were learning the Maori “Haka” dance, drawing phrenology charts, eating gummi bears with chopsticks, beatboxing and rapping the words to The Very Hungry Caterpillar,  and yesterday I was trying to convince the sophomore class to make masks to cover up their mouths, so I wouldn’t have to look at their faces directly. They don’t smile. It’s hard to look at. I don’t think I’m going to put up with it. All of this, obviously, because I am an English Teacher. If you’re worried, the answer is yes. I can tie all of that to the Common Core State Standards.


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