Let the blogging begin. . .

10 November

So, I am about to embark on yet another distraction. A blogger-wanna-be. Most of my hesitations in joining the blogging community were centered in feeling syntactically paralyzed by the inventively clever blogs, the artistically creative blogs, the visually stunning blogs, the intellectually amazing blogs, and then there would be……………..me. I suppose one might think of my blog as that food designed to cleanse the palate between servings of gastronomical delight at restaurants with unpronounceable foreign names and food that appears painted on the plate. Naturally, a transplated to Lake Charles New Orleans girl ( and, yes, one of those Southern perks is anointing one’s self a girl at any age) would find comfort in a food-related analogy.

And, extending the metaphor, my personal plate is full…I (on a good day–) am a teacher of 11th graders (on a bad day, I recognize that allowing teachers to carry guns would be, indeed, a very B-A-D idea). My course assignments are English Advanced Placement, Creative Writing, and English III American Literature. Teaching includes one weekly lunch duty, two weekly morning duties, monthly faculty meetings, bimonthly 9th grade mentor meetings, bi-monthly Creative Writing club meetings, monthly English department meetings, five (or six?) parish-wide Professional Days, parent conferences, oh–and then there’s that whole issue of grading and recording the grades and inputting grades in the computer and verifying the grades and alerting kids that they do not have the grades that they and/or their parents/think/want/hope they have. Somewhere in that gumbo, teaching happens.

In addition, I am working toward my National Board Certification in English Language Arts. I am doing this because I am an insane person who allows herself to be deluded into thinking that I can make myself entirely miserable for one year engaging in Natl. Board certification as opposed to making myself slightly miserable for several years to earn a Master’s Degree. My other rationalization is that I am too old and ornery to return to college to listen to professors who have never taught high school or perhaps have not done so since the days of ditto machines. A certain arrogance on my part, but I am willing to own that. Hurricane Katrina is responsible for my absolutely having to finish Boards as I am considered a “delayed” candidate. That story for another blog.

For the past two years, I have nurtured my dream of writing and have two WIPS actually breathing on their own and a few on life support. One of the functioning pieces is women’s fiction, the other is for the YA market. My goal is to finish the YA before the end of the year. Topics for other blogs—

My husband and I just moved into a house that we rebuilt from the inside out. Sigh. More to blog on that——–

Then there’s the fam—mother of five, grandmother of three–Bailey, who’s watching over us from heaven, seventeen-month-old Emma who is exactly two hours and fifteen minutes away barring unforeseen accidents or police patrols, and Emma’s pending sibling . . .due date in the summer.

But, for now, I am off to wallow in last year’s birthday gift of a massage from my biological children.

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