Did I ever say how much I miss the south? The south really is, well, southern. You know, as in Southern Living southern.
Friendly and just plain down-home southern.
Fried ocra and deviled eggs southern.
I bet the Brady Bunch lived in the south. Especially Alice.
Aside from that, it's where I grew up. We went home for Easter and stayed with Mom and Dad for a short weekend.


Emma stayed under this table during her waking hours. She hid from Devil Dog Hokie and Gentle Giant Brandee. Brandee's not so bad. She's a Golden Retriever with a sweet hulking disposition. Hokie is a Yankee. He's a dachshund and not very southern. Except when he's sleeping.

Camden and Benjy played with Nana when they weren't chasing invisible clones in the woods.


These were the same woods Michelle and I played in when we grew up here. Old Mr. Hart had built trails in these woods and we felt like explorers and wild Indians when we played there. I love how they hold the same magic for my boys.


See those guns? They practically slept with them. These are their weapons when they play Clone Wars. I couldn't believe they sat side by side for this shot and smiled simultaneously. They are good clones.


And here's Eaglescout after he sneaked one of Mom's deviled eggs. Shame on him. But Mom, being a woman of good southern stock, didn't mind. She let him eat all he wanted even before we said the blessing.

And here's Emma waiting for us to leave. She was scared to death when we went to church, so afraid we were leaving her there. She was born and raised in the south, but something about these visits to Mom and Dad and their dogs makes me think she prefers the green grass of the north. But she would never in a million years say yins.

Have you filled a bucket today?

I love this book, and I've used it in my classroom at back-to-school time since I discovered it in a Hallmark shop a few years ago. Here's the skinny: We all have this invisible bucket that people can either dip from or fill up. Bucket dippers make you feel lousy, sad, ineffective, or just plain dumb. Bucket fillers make you happy. They support you, bring smiles, cheer you on, encourage you to be all that God wants you to be. Personally, I prefer to hang out with the bucket fillers.

And now, Teaching Heart is sponsoring a give-away right here. I love give-aways as much as I love presents! You could win this bucket to give to your child's favorite teacher. It's filled with a copy of the book, activities to be used with the book, and two of her wonderfully amazing CD-ROMS filled with teacher goodness to be used with an elementary class. That's so bucket-filling amazing! (I've used her stuff and it is beautifully presented and relevant and easy and FUN! My kids love the activities I've used from her site.)


I am blessed to be surrounded by bucket-fillers. But the one who continues to fill my bucket to overflowing is my husband, good old Eaglescout. I cannot imagine life without him. He is a bucket-filler by nature, being an Eaglescout and Order of the Arrow and the publisher of his own invisible newspaper company and all. But seriously, he rocks in the bucket-filling business. He holds me to a higher standard with his outlook on life and people. When I'm down and ready to be in the dumps for a while, he pulls me out and shows me what's to love in life. When my bucket has been drained by petty every-day stupid stuff (for lack of a better term for it), he stops the leak and gently fills it back up. This weekend, home with my mom and dad, he spent so much time filling all our buckets that it's a true wonder he has anything left in his own. And yet he keeps on filling. Amazing is he, no? (Yoda said that.) Thank you, Eaglescout, for making me so happy and keeping me that way.

And now, I'd like to pass along some bucket-filling cheer to a few people who make me happy and fill my bucket.

Leslie. I know you feel like your bucket is drained to the point of being inside out. There are the people who rock and the people who suck rocks who pull at you. I pray the people who rock win the battle. I really feel it's gonna work out just like that for you and your wonderful boys. Here's a drop in your bucket. I hope it feels full soon.

Mom. You've been my hero for the past year with your Wonder Woman strength. How you've nursed Dad through cancer. Twice. And how you've let God hold you up after we lost Shell. How you've felt His blessings even when your bucket was drained. You are my hero. I hope that feels like a drop in your bucket today.

Tami. Your bucket seems to be overflowing with laughter and smiles and cheer. From your ninja skills to your princess tendencies, you make me giggle. Oh, but it's a serious giggle, of course. I do take you seriously. Seriously. :)

Kim. You haven't blogged since Pi day. I guess the holiday extravaganza plumb wore you out. But I thought you should know that you really put a big old drop of goodness in my bucket when you told me I could really and truly spar, at least a little. And, well, the Christmas gift you gave continues to give. hehehehe Here's a drop for your bucket!

OK, y'all. I challenge you to fill a bucket today!

Happy Easter! Allelujah, Allelujah!

Because there's a bit of Wild Thing in all of us.



I'm not sure if I can wait till fall. This has long been one of my favorite children's books of all time. I love it so much I've memorized it.

The night Max wore his wolf suit
and made mischief
of one kind
and another
his mother called him
"Wild Thing!"
And Max said,
"I'LL EAT YOU UP!"
So he was sent to bed
without eating anything.
That very night in Max's room
a forest grew, and grew, and grew
until the ceiling hung with vines
and the walls became the world all around,
and an ocean tumbled by
with a private boat for Max.
And he sailed through night and day
and in and out of weeks
and almost over a year
to the place where the Wild Things are.

This just in ... for everybody who disses my peeps:

Thank you Princess for the helpful image that gave me reason to blog.
And LL, you have my love and prayers, including this one.

I am nearly blind from being on the computer all the live-long day. I've been working on my National Board Certification renewal portfolio. Now I know what Tiger Woods goes through when he practices for the Masters. Only I don't get a green jacket. But I do get a nice little certificate to hang up on the wall of my choice. And if I was teaching in a public school in Virginia, I'd get a handsome $2,500 bonus every year for the next 10 years. If I lived in Mississippi, I'd get an annual $6,000 bonus. It's hot there, though. And humid. Since I teach in Pennsylvania, which sucks, by the way, and teach in a private school, I just get the lovely certificate. But ya know? That's enough for me. I'm easy, what can I say.

Really, that's what I've done today. I've typed my fingers to the nub on how I teach reading comprehension strategies like inferring through the reading workshop model and how I teach writing by focusing on the reading-writing connection. Big stuff, I tell ya.



I had to videotape one component of the portfolio. I recorded 10 minutes of moi leading the class in a minilesson (teacher-speak for a brief lesson) focused on how to infer what the author doesn't explicitly say. It wasn't so much my great teaching as my students' great inferring. They're a smartly bunch.

And now I'm so addicted to the keyboard that I sit here doing the blog. That and, plus, my mom has missed the blog updates. I love you, Mom! Thanks for being my loyal reader!

I finally couldn't take it anymore and quit Microsoft Word for Mac. Literally, quit it. Stopped the application and saved the whole shebang.

And then I thought on it some more. I'm wild that way.


The BOX has to be mailed by April 30. I have completed 2 of the four papers required. I have almost completed the third, but need to add a couple of examples of how I impacted student learning and all that jazz. I have a reflection on my growth as a teacher to go. And then I send my box off to the wild blue yonder in Texas. You can bet I'll pay extra to track that shipment.

Why put myself through this experience, you ask? Well, part of me feels that since I worked so hard to get it, I shouldn't let it go, even if it costs to recertify. Another part of me feels that keeping the certification will certainly help if I move and want to teach in another place. And, well, the biggest part of me (which is my hips) feels that this is the best way to reflect on my growth as a teacher. Truly, going through National Board Certification was by far the best professional development I have ever undertaken. No GIANT NAME IN EDUSPEAK can compare to the process of examining your teaching and reflecting on how you can be even better.

Break to watch the TV...

I see now that Christopher has died on the Sopranos. A rerun is on, and I'm admittedly drawn to it. The Sopranos opening song is the theme song of Camden's arrival into this world. Let me explain. The season premiere was slated to start when our first son was born. We actually have photos of Curt and me in bed awaiting this event, with Camden snuggly wrapped and lying in my arms. And then the theme song came on.



Those were the days.

I'm a blue belt!

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Today was the BIG ATA Chief Master's American Taekwondo Assocation's Tournament of Champions. This was a Class A tourny, which in my vocab meant a VERY LOOOOOONG DAY. But in the followers of tourneys, meant a VERY BIIIIIIIIIIIIG DEAL. We were there from about 9 a.m. till 4:30 p.m. whilst the Richert boys competed. Why, pray tell, didn't I compete, you ask? Well, I've got one word for you.

Vomit.

That's all I'll volunteer on that.

But I happily strapped my Nikon camera around my neck and took pictures like I was All That And More. I'm so proud of my boys.

Now, don't expect anything grand in the ORDER of these photos. Blogger insists in uploading everything backwards, so my order is all out of whack. And I'm just not in the mood to put them in the right order.

Let me explain: I used to be an extrovert. That means I derived my energy from others. Now, in my 40s, I'm an introvert. I derive my energy from my naps. Well, let's just say that this day drained me of my energy. The people. The noise. The colors. The closeness. Invaders took over my personal space at every hour. My own personal offspring took over my personal space, leaving my bubble burst. And yet, I survive another hour, blogging the theatrics of my family because that's what good mommies and wives do. I love them, and that's what sustains my introverted ways.

Benjy's form

I was so inspired watching this judge, the co-owner of the Cleveland school, lead these Tiny Tigers through their moves. She made every one of them feel like they were the entire reason for this tournament.

A good job for Benjy. The sun rose and set around his form.

Camden who competed in jhang bong weapons form and took 2nd.

Camden's form that Mr. Dreskler helped him with.
Thank you, Mr. Dreskler!!!!!

My man.

My man in a SEA of black belts.
There were competitors from all over the country here.
World champs, too.
The quality of these competitors was simply amazing to watch.

Benjy got two trophies:
one for Loud Yells
one for Weapon Control
Yes, all Tiny Tigers get a trophy.
And they totally deserve it.

Benjy and his bhang mhong ee
I'm not entirely sure if I spelled that right.
But I'm not in any mood to look it up.

He actually made this form up.
And he was so proud of the between-the-leg move he did.

Camden's jhang bong form.

In action

Eaglescout.

Eaglescout kicks.
He's a very good kicker.

Yes, I'm plumb worn out.
I'm at the end of my rope.
I'm spent.

And I'm so proud of the Richert boys. They practiced.
They worked hard and had true ATA black belt attitudes.
I wouldn't have picked any other family to be with today.
You should know that there were world champs, national champs, Nth degree black belts here.
And my guys were here, too.
I love you, Curt, Camden, and Benjy.
And I am so proud of your hard work and accomplishments today.
A T A!!!

I do not live here, but I would if I could. I don't know where it is, but quite frankly, if it's perched in the middle of a landfill in Mississippi, I'd probably still live here. That's how much I am adoring this little cottage craftsmanesque home I spotted somewhere on the internet. If I lived in this home, here are a few things I'd put in it.

A good for nothing lazy hound dog.

A clone.

Or two.

A handsome black belt man to guard and protect the clones whilst they recharge their batteries.

A room that befits the time one spends in it washing the threads of a family.

Flower boxes

A chandelier in every single room. Just because they sparkle.

Room to kick back and relax by Eaglescout's garden. Yes, he fancies himself a farmer of sorts.

An old timey clawfoot tub like I had in Big Lick, Virginia. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

A tree house for me to escape to when I need some time with a book. (Or a Kindle, which I admit has captivated me of late.)

These whimsical mushroom stools would, of course, dot the lawn.
Because, why not?

My back porch would have to be pinkalicous.
And I don't really even like pink so much as I love that word.
(You'd have to read to book to really understand, I suppose.)

Numbered stairs because you don't want to miscount and trip and injure yourself. Of course.

Yellow walls.
Yellow has been my favorite color since Midge Vaughn told me it was hers in fourth grade.

Finally, my home would be moved to Hatteras Island, NC.
Just because.
That's why.
So this would be what I'd see every day from my pinkalicious back porch.

Gee, it's been so long and I've left you hanging, waiting and probably pacing in anticipation of learning the answers to my mystery word game of last week.

Yeah, just humor me, OK?

The pictures I posted were the number 1 images to show up when I googled words I heard on NBC's The Office. Here are your answers.

Number one: KGB
Number two: Dwight
Number three: Shoe La La
Number four: Metabolism

I just cracked up when Michael told Dwight that he dreamed of opening up a fine men's shoe store. And calling it Shoe La La.

Obviously, you people need to get a life and watch The Office if you plan on playing games with me.

And now, for some peeks at what Maggie the Leprechaun did to my classroom today at lunch.


She did this at lunchtime because, well, as amazing as I may seem at times, I totally dropped the ball on St. Patrick's Day. Hey, it's not like it was Hundreds Day or Pi Day or the Ides of March!


So, I recruited some eighth graders to help me out. They arrived ready to make a mess. They tipped desks, spilled toys and sprinkled green beads all over the place. They turned word wall words upside down and - you need to be sitting for this one - took the ABCs out of alphabetical order. What heresy!

These guys wound up best friends and are still hanging tight.

This mess, however, we could not stand. So my little ones picked it up without me even asking!
One of the big kids remarked, "I like how we get to make the mess and they have to clean it up." Clever, I am, no?

The best trick of all wasn't captured on film. The big kids put mini Tootsie Rolls on the ceiling fan blades. Then, when we turned it on, Tootsie Rolls rained down on us! That Maggie can't be so bad after all.

My Dear Blog Readers (all 5 of you),

Can I just tell you how lame it is that I've neglected you for all these live-long days?
I feel like a heel.
I feel like a horrible heel.
Not to be confused with an eel.

And to beat it all, I have not a nugget of original, fresh, thought-provoking and mind-changing multimedia for you. Any picture you see on this post, I warn you, comes ripped right off the internet. I confess, I am a thief. And as such, I resort to thievery when I have to.

So, let's see. I will play a little game with you, dear blog people.
I will type a mystery word into google and post the first picture that comes up.
Your job is to guess the mystery word I typed in.
Sound like fun?

OK, since you're all on the edge of your seats in anticipation, here goes:

Give up yet?
You'll have to wait for me to remember to update this to find out my secret word.

That was great fun. Let's do it again.
Here's a new picture with a new and improved mystery word.

And now for a break from our sponsors of the mystery word:

Give up yet?

OK, here's a clue. 

All of my words come from tonight's episode of The Office. 

I just love that show.

Those funny guys make my funny bone itch. Cause they tickle it, of course!

(Woops, I slipped into my Junie B. Jones voice there for a minute.)

OK, I'll give you one more bigger, better image. 

This one also is from The Office. Cause it's still on, that's why. 

I was gonna give you an image to go with one of the last words on tonight's episode - boobs. But it was obscene. Take my word for it. (Admit it, you're ready to google it yourself, aren't you? You dirty people.)

Stay tuned for my mystery words. 

In the event of a winner, no prizes will be awarded.