Mean ol’ Miz Roberts, in seventh grade, made us all memorize this poem. I still know it by heart. Thank you, Miz Roberts. This poem refers to World War One soldiers, killed and buried overseas. Their families had no body … Continue reading
Mamacita says: I have never been able to understand why some people consider other people’s business to be their business, too. I mean, shouldn’t they at least wait to be asked before chiming in with an opinion, piece of advice, … Continue reading
Mamacita says: I worry about the future. I worry about the future for different reasons than most people’s reasons. I worry about the future because present generations aren’t learning about the past. Seriously. Our students don’t seem to have anything … Continue reading
Mamacita says: I’m going to miss the huge shagbark hickory tree in the front yard (we’re moving) but I am so tired of walking on nuts. I’m tired of hearing them flop and fall all over the place. I’m tired … Continue reading
Mamacita says: I used to look at my young students every day and wonder what they went home to every night. Sometimes I did know, and my heart broke for them daily. With others, I had no idea. When a … Continue reading
Mamacita says: I hate to think I’m turning into a fogey, or, even worse, am already there, but it seems to me that people are getting more and more ignorant by the minute. It doesn’t seem as though they’re doing … Continue reading