handwritten on March 29, 2019
I had the ultimate pleasure of going into my brother's workspace and whimsical workplace. They say that every environment has some kind of zen to it. And this particular space was no exception with wooden standing desks and space between members, windows flowing into the cityscape and carefully hung lights creating inspirational borders. The space was a relaxing wordflow, a series of interrupted and uninterrupted silences creating a feeling of coziness yet independence and collaboration but not obnoxiously so. Time ran quickly but also slowly enough that I felt secure in knowing I had done "enough" work for the day. I must say other work cultures could learn a thing or two from proper...
handwritten on March 28, 2019
I had the opportunity to visit my mother's classroom today. And though I have been paying particular attention to whimsical encounters, I found probably one of the most important elements of a successful teacher that I have had yet to articulate clearly. I go back and forth with my teaching philosophy because I think at the current state in education I have a lot of inner-turmoil in what I am doing versus what I want to be doing more of. I have been told that this occurs constantly within the span of one's career. Which is a little disheartening knowing that my turmoil will most likely span a lifetime.
Regardless, what became apparent to me in spending 10 minutes in her classroom was this...
handwritten on March 27, 2019
Tonight was a whimsical night in my eyes. I came home from Buffalo, New York and realized I had no food to eat. Bregrudgingly (because I'm very cheap) I realized I may have to go out to dinner. With my brother in the midst of moving his life to the Northside of Pittsburgh we decided upon Industry. A burger and fries with a life catch-up is always splendid. It's even more splendid when you are off from teaching for a week and realize you actually have energy after a full day and your eyes are still wide open at 7:30 PM. A little life break every now and again is sometimes what the doctor orders.
Through some life chats, we decided afterwards that moving the mattress at 9:00 PM from one...
handwritten on March 26, 2019
Today was my last day sitting within the walls of 200 Meadow Lane. And to think, in many ways, this house was where each of us realized the importance of life. Each with our own story. Our own journey to tell. My parents started the tradition early that Meadow Lane would become a second home. An escape into a space with reminder of the important things life had to offer like pigs in a blanket and concepts such as "shrimp cocktail time" and of course secret cousin clubs and Christmas plays written and performed in the basement or the laundry shoot stuffed animal wars or that secret door right inside my uncle's bedroom that leads into a secret back wardrobe space that, for us as children held...
handwritten on March 25, 2019
I woke up this morning to both of my grandparents already sitting at the breakfast table drinking their daily orange juice and bowl of cereal. My grandmother began talking about this cake that she remembers having as well as a corn casserole which she claimed both could be found on the bottom shelf in the kitchen near the stove.
I must say anytime I'm asked to look for something at my grandparent's house, I either know I am going to fail miserably or I am going to find it after searching for a long time. Luckily, though, this time was different. I did find the old Notre Dame cookbook which looked like an antique from the past. It had a bright yellow cover, worn and a Notre Dame emblem on...
