Joey Smiles and then Julie Smiles

I just got home from work. It was kinda, really crappy. Right now I have one really difficult class that frequently tarnishes my day. Today was tarnished. Instead of coming home and enjoying the sun, I put in 10 hours, and I'm all the crabbier for it. Then, I got home to see that the bathroom contractor (who is not a good communicator) put the towel rack in the wrong stupid place. In the scheme of things, this is not a big deal. In my frame of mind, it is catastrophic. Coping technique? Bit my sweet husband's head right off, and promptly felt like the biggest b-i-t-c-h (sshh, I'm sure the students are reading) in the entire world. Luckily, I just found this picture of little Joey, and most of the drama has just melted away. Now, I just need to go attach aforementioned sweet husband's head, and all will be fine.

Student dilemma

OK, I'm going to admit it, I really wish that my students hadn't found this little journal. Sometimes I want to crab about them, sometimes I want to tell cute stories about them, and sometimes I just want to disclose more about my life than a student really needs to know about their art teacher. That being said, one of my students who checks the heck out of this blog, has a dilemma and I think that reader comments could provide some insight for her. PLEASE COMMENT. Her and her mom are moving to another school district this summer. If she wants to continue at our school next year, she'll have quite a commute every day. Of course going to another school is another option, but gosh, it'll be her senior year and that would be a pain too. The last option is taking her senior year courses over the internet. While I could not possibly be paid enough to go back to Roseville High and live through those not-so-glory-days again, I think mile-markers (like prom and graduation and trying out for the plays...) were really important to me at the time. At 34, are the memories and experiences of my senior year in high school really all that important to who I am now? What about closure?

Aren't there just so many things to love about spring? After being cooped up in the house all winter long, it's so fun to get outside and see what's popping out of the ground. It kind of shocks me when things that I planted last year are actually coming back now. I found two little lily of the valley plants hiding behind my roses the other day. They're probably my favorite spring flower. My Barbies used their petals for drinking cups when I was a wee little Barbie girl. Oh, and yesterday, for Mother's Day, I made blueberry rhubarb crisp with some of the rhubarb that Gnomie gave me last summer. It was delicious. Speaking of rhubarb, a woman from work told me that the leaves of it are toxic and that you've got to get every bit of leaf off and wash your hands, OR ELSE YOU WILL SEE DEATH. Anyone ever heard of this before?

Z and I went to the May Day parade over in Powderhorn a couple weeks ago. I love these little pod people.

I'm also loving anything with skulls these days.

Frida was at the parade too. As many of you know, she is MY homegirl and of course I thoroughly endorse her having a slice of the parade all to herself. However, don't you think this woman is a total Frida wanna-be-poser? I'm thinking about dressing up like the REAL Frida next year and hopefully finding this woman and chopping her stupid oversized watermelon in half.

Another thing I love about spring this year, is getting to babysit little Joey. I love it when he talks to me and I even love it when he's crabby. It just makes me laugh. We watched him all day on Saturday, and sheesh it was hard work. I didn't get one damn thing done except feeding him, burping him, changing him, tickling him, and trying to make him take a nap. Oh, and taking lots of cute pictures.

Find your own pose!

Check over on the CC for the latest meeting's pictures. A few highlights: 1. HoLyn as our poster girl. 2. The return of The Mess. 3. An impromptu post-crafting dance party in the livingroom. I think we were all giddy about getting out of the basement.