Mice skate close to the edge, write 8s

Thanks so much to Kim of Hummus Anonymous for getting me inspired for this week's art class.  Seeing the finger figure skates made by her daughter got me looping about the mental ice. But like most inspirations, I was caught in the crossfire of memories, images, words, and events.

Snow on the playground made Tuesday magical. Getting the smallest students bundled for a real life snow experience involved lots of turning sleeves right-side-out, and aiming thumbs into their own mitten studio apartment.

The five year olds are practicing writing the number eight.  This number is both the beautiful, graceful, double om of loops on ice, and purest torture for most young writers.  S S S, then / / /.  Link the bottom to the top.  No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, don't take that detour!  Don't double back around!

My ankles are too wobbly for skating, and my shoulder too shaky for holding the picture book back-handed.  Ed and Rebecca Emberley's picture book, Mice On Ice, added more ideas to the mix.  Next week the kids will make a 3-D ice rink.  The white crayon wax resist with the blue watercolor/black ink wash looked nicely icy.

"You are skating on thin ice" implies risky behavior without the disrespectful attitude associated with "pushing your luck". While I was pleased to find Kristi Yamaguchi's Olympic "Blue Danube" program online, I can't find Mary Tyler Moore's classic figure skating spin from the early 70s.

I'm midway between the eighth anniversary of my mother's death and the first anniversary of my dad's. As Dad worked through paralyzing grief at Mom's death, he found a little window of light.  "I'll never have to watch figure skating again!"









© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Na na na na Hey hey hey Goodbye

Neither gnomes, nor gnats, nor naugahyde will adorn the preschoolers' gift to their lead teacher, so you mightn't have expected the knife, knots, and knitting. Preschoolers can't give a gift of nothing to their teacher, so in the handmade spirit we have made a box of Nn. Naturally, the motives are twofold.

1. The students might learn something about the "Nn" sound.
2. This project will cost nada, nil, nothing, zip.  (Preschoolers often confuse N and Z)

The inspiration was part nasal exasperation. Our class is a championship caliber nose-picking team, no matter what measures we've take.

Our class rabbit is named Norton, so he's the star of the Nn box.

Having taught some of the kids to "turn sevens into stars", a few turned that back on me by refusing to practice writing numbers or letters. It's stars and only stars from morning until night.

Our box of Nn is almost done. And it's a good thing the semester is almost done, too. Enjoy some noodles, but use your napkin!

© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Penmanship at 74 years of age

Every few years I pull out the letter from great-great grandfather Sasse and find a source of inspiration and amazement. Today I am just in awe of his penmanship at age seventy-four. He was writing on lined paper.  He must have used a fountain pen in 1911, not quill and ink! His letter must have been a "final copy", as there are no indications of editing or corrections.

With a comfortable pen I can write for a few hours, but my penmanship is inconsistent in style and legibility.  I blame this on my tremor, which is inherited from the other side of my family.

Now that I've finished the transcription, I'm excited to post the rest of it!

© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Webbed bliss

When I got the spider on the left in focus I didn't even notice the spider on the right. I love that digital photography lets me see things I wouldn't otherwise. Are these two frolicking in webbed wedded bliss?

Trouble with those pesky little b's and d's is rampant as the preschoolers prepare their Father's Day project. I love my dabby!  I love my baddy!

I love these turtles just hanging out in the sunny curve of the creek far below the trail. They seemed pretty blissed. I may need to find my inner turtle today.










© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Who me? Yes u!

I had no idea Friday the Thirteenth was also Scrabble Day, but I thank Kim for playing!  On Friday I was short of sleep and still reeling from the school music performance of "The Alphabet Tree".  The Word Bug in the story had to arrange the preschoolers wearing letter t-shirts into words.  The preschoolers were, how to say it, not necessarily ready or wanting to participate in this word-building.

For privacy reasons I can't post identifiable photos of my students, just as they couldn't always form identifiable words.  In the show they had to be formed into:


hot     dot


rats   sour    earth

and

Treat others as you would like to be treated!!!!


I kid u not.

As the art teacher, I had to watch powerless from the sidelines.  Felt like the time in '91 when Oil Can Boyd was pitching for the Texas Rangers and could not get out of the inning.  If I didn't have to rehearse my red wiggler worms for their upcoming performance I would waste time tracking down how many runs the opponents scored in that inning.  I really wanted to Little Bunny Foo-Foo old Oil Can:

bop nim on da hed

The spring semester rolls on over gravel ruts. Five year old boys are practicing writing their letters. They all have a future creating security words for blog comment verification.


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Trout lily handwriting

This premature spring has convinced the first grade girls they should really be writing "in cursive", so they are making looping nonsensical signatures. The five year olds are struggling to master printing on lined paper, working out which letters are tall, and which hang down below the line. Candy canes and fish hooks get larger and larger. The three year olds are documenting life in invented script and writing their names in all caps. Remembering my childhood fascination with my dad's drafting block print lettering.

© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Monet pops bubblewrap/writes cursive with sparklers

 Not exactly waterlilies, but still plenty of ripples.  My visual meanderings and Art History 101 flashbacks were interrupted by a buzzer.  ZZZZZ!  Still your turn?

Splendid tiny milkweed pyrotechnics.  Sparklers sold in a sulphur tent.  Spinning faster than that busy bird buzzes ZZZZ.

Small.
Crest.
Gray.
Noisy as all get out
Smoke detector
Restaurant pager
Seriously pissed
Seriously buzzing tenor
with a chickadee
singing soprano.
Even a do-si-do or two.

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

Letter sweater

Perhaps they award letters for selling and clearing out parent's houses in the cosmic high school with our "permanent records".  I don't want to wear an itchy wool sweater, but I would like a letter.  I haven't been able to think, let alone blog, about any other issue for a very long time.

I couldn't resist claiming possession of my Dad's sweater letter for penmanship when we found the high school mementos from the Pierce High School graduating class of 1941.  I know Dad lettered in basketball and glee club.  We found three major sweater "P"s.  This one had the Palmer Method penmanship firmly affixed.  Was it really possible to letter in penmanship?

© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder

Etiquettiphobia

That would be the fear that Emily Post, Amy Vanderbilt, and Letitia Baldrige are going to swoop down from Mt. Olympus in their perfect plus-size mother-of-the-groom attire hurling lightning bolts at me for my glaring errors. This week I am trying to avoid their wrath as I address the envelopes for my son's wedding.

My son and his lovely fiance don't have the same concern about Mr. and Mrs., Master, Miss, and Ms. They are busy young professionals who have grown up in the email generation. To them an address includes first.last@.

Choosing the proper pen with Letitia's guidance was a treat, though I worried Amy and Emily would be jealous. You know how those goddesses are.

It's nice to use the dying art of handwriting for a good cause. So soothing gliding the pen in lovely curves and curls on the large envelopes. Just please don't let the three goddesses of wedding protocol get me in their sights. Was that thunder I just heard?


© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Walking Cane Letters

Handwriting on hold--Another Wall Street Journal book review has enticed me to reserve the library's copy of Script & Scribbles, by Kitty Burns Florey. Cullen Murphy's review, "Handwriting Is on the Wall: Penmanship skills are being slowly erased in a typing and texting age" is fun if you have memories of elementary penmanship exercises or enjoy a lovely handwritten note.

Somewhere in one of my too, too many boxes, there's a small piece of paper with my great aunt Emma's examples of the Palmer Method's "walking cane letters". Aunt Em resolved to improve my awkward fourth grade cursive by convincing me of the beauty and legibility of nice penmanship. She also convinced me the discipline to master the skill was worth the effort. I believe it still is. Smooth cursive is faster than block printing, and causes less arm and hand fatigue when you set your paper correctly. Yes, I'm a right-handed female! How did you know?

The Walking Cane letters are the upper case H, K, M, N, W, X. Forming those letters began by making the loop of the cane handle, then its stick sitting nicely on the line.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder