Week in Instagram (Week #70)

This week's pics started on Saturday night.

Saturday:

I attended the band's crab feed.

I'm not a huge fan of crab--or any seafood--but I ate some.

I was high bidder on this lovely basket. All for a good cause!

However, I did not win the ukelele in the raffle. Darn.

Tiny chocolate treble clef.

Sunday:

Jelly beans...which prompted a long and impassioned
Facebook status update conversation amongst my friends:
Does anyone really eat the black ones? 

Sleepy Beauty. 

I disturbed her, and the result was adorable. 

Lady Fuzz, Duchess of Lincoln, begging for belly rubs.

Monday:

I wore green to the gym, of course.

And I (briefly) wore my ridiculous hat at school.

I got a great note from a student, and it was just...needed.

I'm going to have to get help keeping these alive.

Green shoes at choir practice.

Tuesday:

Good morning, Sacramento Valley! Off for a good run.

They're not excited about tour or anything. 

Wednesday:

It was a red boots kind of day.

Thursday:

Happy First Day of Spring!

Three miles for my first run of Spring 2014. 

On the front walkway.

Friday:

A cup of tea and the Lion Cam? Perfect end to a busy week.

Then I got busy cleaning the fridge. 

Saturday:

I did some major organizing in my room this morning,
including getting all of my ducks in a row.

Top left: Quackers, Daffy, Flasher
Top right: Libby
Bottom Left: The minions
Bottom right: Beezy

Top: Chico
Right: Biggie and Harley
Bottom: Cali...the original.
Left: Sassy and a little glass duck

I washed RoPro today, even though it's supposed to rain
this week. She was covered in bird poo. 

Blackfish

Twenty years ago--probably right around this time--I had to write a term paper for my sophomore English class. The English teachers and our biology teachers decided to make it a dual project. We'd write one paper, print it out twice, and submit it to both teachers. The English teacher would grade us on writing, style, and all that good stuff, while the biology teachers would grade on our topic, research and argument.

"Free Willy" had been released fairly recently, and it's star, Keiko, had gained international fame for his plight. He suffered from skin lesions, a collapsed dorsal fin, and other ailments that wild orcas don't really seem to have.

Let's get one thing straight from the start of this blog post. I hate the term "killer whale." Yes, orcas are "killers" because they do, indeed, hunt the cute little seals for food. It's called nature. Get used to it. Your friendly neighborhood lioness kills cute little wildebeest and cute little zebras. Everyone's gotta eat. But there is this ongoing myth that orcas are inherently dangerous to people, when the truth is that wild orcas are not considered a real threat. (Yes, my reference is Wikipedia, but it links to credible sources.)

But then, you put them in captivity, and all hell breaks loose.

What I'm getting at with all this, is that tonight, I finally watched Blackfish.

I've been hearing about it--mostly on Twitter--for months now, but only tonight finally live streamed it on Netflix. I knew, going in, what I was getting into, because I wrote that high school term paper twenty years ago, and I knew then that I would never step foot in a marine amusement park ever again. I refuse to give one penny of my money to anyone who keeps orcas and/or dolphins in captivity, performing humiliating shows for sugared-up American tourists who don't realize they're watching blatant animal cruelty unfold right in front of them.

Because, yes. I do believe it is cruel to keep an enormous animal in a tiny, concrete pool. I do believe it is cruel to force highly intelligent and emotional creatures to exist in a boring concrete block. They don't even hunt--they're handed dead fish for performing stupid tricks. Pectoral fin waves? Puh-lease. You want to see some amazing orca behavior? Watch this (and apologies for Maayan and I being shrill and hyper throughout):

Sea World, ever the capitalistic monster, continues to try to defend themselves, but I, for one, refuse to listen. A 12,000 pound mammal who grieves when it is separated from its young does not need to be put in a swimming pool. I'm not entirely sure, however, that I'd mind if the greedy bastards running Sea World weren't shut into a concrete room for the rest of their lives, with no stimulation, never to see their loved ones, to live out their lives with health problems brought on because they are not receiving the basic things they need to survive. I wonder how they'd like that?

Fortunately, there are saner heads prevailing. Richard Bloom of the California State Legislature has introduced a bill to effectively ban holding orcas in captivity in the state. I sincerely hope it passes and that Sea World is forced to close their doors. If you want to promote marine life in a positive, earth-friendly way, look to the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

I've been so fortunate to see many kinds of whales--humpbacks, orcas, pilot whales--in their natural habitat, in the Hawaiian islands, the Monterey Bay, and the Puget Sound. I know this is not necessarily an option for everyone, but trust me, it is so much better, so much more real, than watching an unhappy animal do stupid tricks for a handful of dead fish. Where is the joy in that?

Keep them wild, keep them free.

Orca dorsal fin in the San Juan Islands, Washington.

Humpack tail fin, Monterey Bay, California.

 

Orca, Monterey Bay.

An adorable sea otter in Monterey Bay.

Humpback whale, Maui.

Another humpback in Maui.

Spring

On Friday, one of my choir students told me how nervous and excited she was--that night, UC Santa Cruz would be posting their list of accepted incoming freshmen, and that was her first-pick school. I wished her luck, thought about her a couple of times on the weekend, and on Monday, was greeted with a huge smile. She's in.

Today, another senior asked, "Remember that scholarship you wrote a recommendation for?"

"Yes, of course," I replied. "And...?"

"I got it. It's four thousand a semester."

Of course, I'm hugely delighted for my kids--this is such an amazing, exciting time for them, facing graduation and college, all of the changes and growth that come with moving on from adolescence and into adulthood. It's interesting to see it juxtaposed with spring--as winter shakes off its gloom and everything comes to life again, a new crop of graduates marches towards The Big Day. I'm proud of them, happy for them. And I know, as I continue my at the Large Suburban High School, each graduating class will mean a little bit more, as I have a chance to get to know them over their high school careers.

It's exciting to watch them embark on these new journeys, knowing that their paths in life will take them in so many directions they never anticipated. Some directions won't be so easy, but I am confident these kids will weather the storms and come out stronger for it--just as I have in my own life.

That said, there's still 10 weeks left of school, with Senior Ball, choir tour, and all of the spring activities that inevitably occur at your typical high school. Senioritis has set in, the sun seems to be here to stay for the next six months, and all kinds of craziness awaits. Bring it on.

Running Fool

I've been aiming to run three days a week, and lately, that's been going very well. I find I can make time to run on Tuesday and Thursday mornings before work, and get one weekend run in. If I miss a weekday, I can make it up on the weekend, as well.

On Thursday, I had a day off from school due to midterms. Anticipating my weekend run being shorter than usual (yesterday's Shamrock'n 5K), I set out for my long run that morning, and got five good miles. No walking, no running. Go me!

Yesterday's race went well. My official time was 32:30, and while I felt some of that familiar nausea in the last mile, I didn't stop, walk, or get sick. I did, however, talk to myself a couple of times. Well, more of an under-the-breath muttering. "You've. Got. This." and the like.

Actually, with all these four- and five-mile runs of late, a 5K is downright easy. It felt like a short run.

Having run yesterday, no one would have blamed me for taking a rest today. I am supposed to take one rest day every week, with all of this running and my gym time. But I ate a huge meal last night at the school band's crab feed, and I felt good this morning. It's a beautiful day here--sunny, clear, spring-tastic. I really wanted to run...and Meg wanting to run is a rare thing.

Thing is, I needed to run to the grocery store for some spinach and fruit, and I wanted to be home in time to watch NASCAR. What to do?

Inspiration struck. I mapped out the route to Raley's on Daily Mile, and found it's just under three-and-a-half miles. I can run three-and-a-half miles. It was almost entirely residential, except the last half mile along a major road (on a sidewalk). It involved one major road-crossing, at a light with a crosswalk. The only problem? Three-and-a-half miles back. I normally walk a mile-and-a-half back after a run.

So I asked Dad if he'd pick me up, and he agreed. Armed with my phone, drivers license, and debit card all tucked in my little waist pouch, I laced up the Mizunos and set off for a slow run through this gorgeous morning.

Sometimes, I can't believe myself.

My Week in Instagram (Week #69)

I've figured out that the reason I do a Week in Instagram post each week is not because I expect people to read it (I'm a realist) but because it's so easy to forget what I did from day to day. The hashtag for this would be #busy.

Sunday:

In the garden

Thunder Valley Casino, as seen from Highway 65.

Monday:

Going for the 40s look with my hair on Monday.

I bought this because of course I bought this.

We started this on Monday night in Sac Choral and I haven't
been so excited about a piece of music in ages.

Also excited about the Vaughn Williams.

Tuesday:

It was a messy desk and Smells Like Teen Drama kind of
day. 

Wednesday:

Amusing Google auto-fills.

Pretty girl on a pretty day.

My one true love, always happy to have me home.

Thursday:

Gorgeous day over the Sac Valley. That's Mt. Diablo
on the left, Sacramento on the right. 

The Sutter Buttes. I took this WHILE running.

First snake of the season. The harmless kind, and very
dead. But still, UGH.

How many miles today?

Lovely

The poppies are popping out.

"You're home today!! WE CUDDLE!!!"

Friday:

Because of midterms, I got Thursday off, but had to be at
the Large Suburban High School before the sun came up.

The Breakfast Club.

Even choir teachers give midterms.

"No, you can't sit back in your desk chair. Deal with it."

I went to the Junior High music program's pasta dinner
last night. Some of these kids will be in my program next
year! 

Saturday:

Raley Field this morning...race time!

Personalized bib for today's 5K.

Green socks. 

No, boys, as a matter of fact I hate personal space and I
adore being crowded by total strangers. No worries.

Red, sweaty, and super-satisfied. No, not a new best time,
but those guys who crowded me at the starting line?
I totally beat them. They were faster...but I have endurance.

Anyone else get super-annoyed by these? Five--FIVE--
on every card. I took all of them, ran after one of the
distributors and handed them to her. "These are wasted
on me." Well, honestly.

Runner

The first few feet are excruciating. Her body feels tight, her arms are sore from yesterday's weight lifting. Her hamstrings protest. Maybe her shoe isn't tied tight enough. Is that sock slipping down?

She pushes it out of her mind, focuses on breathing. In over two steps, out over two steps. Repeat.

Pretty soon it's a quarter of a mile...half a mile. She feels pretty good, but she's pacing herself, not letting all of her energy out at once. Half a mile is nothing; she's going for five today.

Breathe in (left foot, right foot). Breathe out (left foot, right foot). Sweat starts pooling in her armpits, around her hairline. Her ponytail swishes back and forth in rhythm. She waves at a passing walker, says good morning. Her smile is more a grimace, but the walker and their dog don't seem to mind as they return the greeting.

The slight downhill slope becomes an uphill. She powers on, her arms pumping, working the soreness out.

Her route winds around, turning right and left, curving around. She wonders what the drivers of passing cars think. Are they impressed? Do they shudder and thing, "Better her than me?"

Thoughts weave across her brain in rapid succession. The endorphins always give her some of her best ideas, and her best solutions to nagging problems.

Miles start to tick by; she's in her zone now. Her breathing stays steady, her muscles acquiesce and start working with her rather than against her. There are no shin splints these days; a combination of experience, better form, and good shoes have eliminated them from her life. Her legs feel good...they'll be tired when she's finished, but right now, they feel good.

Finally, the last half-mile looms before her. It's always the hardest--so close to the finish, yet so far, running head-first into the wind and mentally, so ready to reach the imaginary finish line and tap her hand against the light pole as she always does. She pushes a little harder. She's come too far to quit now. Her eyes focus on the goal, her breath comes harder and faster, her feet eat up the pavement a little bit faster.

And the most amazing thing happens...a smile. Her face splits in a grin as she ends her run. Even as muscles start protesting, and her lungs heave with exertion, she smiles foolishly. It's all so very worth it.

Me Day

Last semester, whenever midterms and finals rolled around, I would head into school on the 1st/2nd period testing day, just to get stuff done. This time around...I stayed home.

I had no contractual obligation to be there today. My duties, as assigned, are to teach 3rd period, and to keep my grades and lessons sorted, etc. No one cares if I choose, on a day that 3rd period doesn't meet, to stay at home and work on lesson plans in my pajamas, with a cat by my feet. Actually, I think most people at my school would do this if they could. So here I am, in my pajamas, working on a few things that need doing. I checked my email, etc.

But the best part of this little blip in my normal routine was that I got to go for a five-mile run this morning. It's a glorious day out--sunny, clear, cool-but-not-cold--absolutely one of those early spring days that leaves you feeling happy to be alive. My run went very well. I'm new to this whole five-mile deal, but I conserved when I needed to and let the energetic bursts happen from time to time, too. No pain, just even breathing and a lot of sweat. My heart rate was up, but not frantic. I feel marvelous. I'll sleep like a log tonight.

The last few weeks have been hectic, and perhaps a little stressful. It's a combination of factors, including the endless loop of piano lessons, a recent attack by an unhappy choir parent and the associated stress of knowing that the way I'm planning our upcoming tour--itself a source of stress--is not satisfactory to her or her daughter. There's been trying to recruit to grow my program, keeping up with lesson plans, and the inevitable teenage drama--mostly not directed my way, but it is quite disruptive to a happy choir rehearsal when one person speaks up and another person rolls their eyes so hard you can hear it.

And I'll tell you what: It's the girls. I only have five boys and while one requires a little more patience than the others, my guys are mostly, "Let's just sing, then" while the girls have opinions on everything. And I love my kids--all of them--but if some of the girl-drama doesn't stop soon, I'm going to have to hold peace talks. As it is, I do my best to remind them that we're in this together, that you don't have to love the person next to you--or even like them very much--but you do have to work together to row the damned boat if you don't want to sink. Most days are great, but this week, I had one in which two girls ended up in tears (one for no apparent reason, and she didn't feel like talking with me about it, and she was fine the next day).

Oh, high school.

I love it, I really do. I loathed teaching at DV, but I was young, immature, and not ready for it. Now, I feel like I can handle this--most of the time. I had one moment this week where I sat alone in my office, sniffling miserably and wondering what I could do better. (The answer: nothing. These are teenagers with all their associated learning curves and hormones and societal pressures. I just have to keep being a solid, understanding adult in their lives who doesn't take bullshit.)

So a day like today, a "Me Day," if you will, are particularly welcomed. I've gotten a few things done and I'm ready to face a two-hour midterm with them tomorrow.

I've got this. I really do.