Homecoming Tiles and Blue and White Day

STUCO has been hard at work on the backdrop for this Fire and Ice themed Homecoming. So far they've finished the fire, but the ice is still missing. Ceiling tiles are done, however. (Every grade has to paint two.) They're exceptional this year, I think.
 

Blue and White Day is at once the easiest day for dressing up...and the most fun, I think.

Ah well. Homecoming week is safely behind us.  I might actually have to come up with other topics...maybe review some of the great books I've been reading.

International Day

There's not much to say about this day. I wish I could say it raised awareness of other people around the world, but I fear that it merely strengthened stereotypes. I didn't help much. But, thanks to Claye, who has an affinity for all things Japanese, I was able to wear this gloriously embroidered robe and be quite comfortable.


The queen of England

 An Argentine gaucho and his Scottish buddy

 An Egyptian lady

                                                        And a Greek

Mexico and Africa

 What I should have done--but thought of too late--was to have dressed as a wheat farmer in red and black and said I was an international harvester...

So Does Anybody Think I'm a Tree?

Not Really? Aw. 

 

Camouflage day was definitely not my strong suit...in fact, finding a suit at all proved rather

 difficult. There was no camo in the house...well, except for these rather warm pants belonging to Turtle.  The students, however, outdid themselves, as you can see for yourself.

Favorite Sports Day

I really wanted to go to school today as a roller skater, but I couldn't find my skates--yes, yet another reason for cleaning out the attic. The students have grown up using roller blades with in-line wheels. They think the old style skates are amazingly difficult to maneuver, so I would have garnished a certain degree of awesomeness. Sigh.

Oh well. I decided to wear my backpacking gear, because I do like to hike. Since I live with an equipment junky, the question was more a matter of what to leave behind than what to take. I agreed to the hat with the sun flap for the neck, but didn't actually wear it because I still have a bit of dignity left. I also left behind the titanium "pooper-scoopper"--which some people actually use to dig a hole in the ground when they stray far from camping "facilities"--because I didn't really want to be explaining all day. I also dangled a compass from my pack, stowed a bottle of DEET for the pesky insects, and carried a cudgel in case I stumbled into a sounder of wild boars.

My students portrayed more conventional sports, I noticed. Here are a few snapshots from the classroom and the halls.

Here's golf


















Volleyball

Baseball

Football

Lacrosse

and martial arts,
otherwise known as
an opportunity to get away with going barefoot to school...

Homecoming Theme--Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice. It doesn't really sound like a homecoming theme, but, ever since they were in the eighth grade, the STUCO reps have been suggesting it. This year they got the go ahead...

The verse they chose to go with it was Psalm 147:17-18   He hurls down his hail like pebbles. Who can withstand his icy blast? He sends his word and melts them; he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow. 

Our dress-up days are always a challenge. Monday was "fire and ice". I'm Ishkoodah, the Comet, which looks like fire but is really ice. It's a little hard to see, but my icy snowflake actually glows in the dark. (thank you, after Christmas sales) Believe it or not, it's easier to teach when one is wearing a diadem and carrying a very sharp scepter.

Here are a couple of fire and ice pictures from the halls.

Seventh graders and sophomores.

Are they cool? Or are they hot?
It's interesting that it means precisely the same thing in slang.
Obviously, having the old school advantage, I've lived through the "in" and the "out" of  both. Since "in-ness" and "out-ness" have never been high on my list of concerns, I have fun being both.

Cleaning out the Attic...Baby clothes

Usually, when I start a project, it leads to a jillion more. Focus is not my strongest trait, ok? I start with the best of intentions, but somehow my ambition gets re-directed. I said that to say this. Today I put away the Christmas tree and all the ornaments. Actually, I only started to put away the Christmas tree.  That took me to the attic for a box, and that made me notice another box, tucked back under the eaves.  Well, this is "sort something Saturday", and boxes all need sorting, right? Besides, it looked intriguing--more intriguing than putting up the ornaments. So, I ended up with a couple of boxes to sort, and managed to condense them into one. Meanwhile, I got to see all my stash of baby clothes once more.  Now, I'm a grandmother and not likely to ever  have another baby to raise, but I've held on to these for the memories. See, here is the ceramic duck my sister made for Elijah, the one that sat on his dresser until he was in seventh grade when we suddenly realized that he was really too old for it. Until then, it had just sat there with the cars, and planes, and trains, and Nintendo games, miraculously surviving without a crack or a chip, and that claim we couldn't make for Elijah.

There was a hand crocheted jacket from an aunt far away.

And a cute, little sailor suit worn by Elijah in this picture.  I remember that the photographer teased me, saying that I'd certainly not think it was so cute when my little boy grew up and wanted to be a sailor.











There were dedication dresses, and an adorable little bib, made and embroidered by my mother.












Here's a close up. It's amazing how few stains it has, considering how much we used it. (gotta love that double knit fabric)

My sister made this dress for Clay. I couldn't find a picture of her in it, but I remember her little face peeking out of that bonnet. The ruffles and flowers and little puff sleeves were far beyond my skills and patience level.

Here's Clay in a purple dress that was handed down from her older sister Carina. I don't know why I don't have it, unless it's in another box...way back under the eaves. Hmmm.

This little white sweater was simply my favorite. All three of the children wore it in turn, and I know it spent at least a few years on a doll.

This little dress survived in beautiful condition in spite of the fact that it was white, with lots of smocking and embroidered flowers around the neck. I have a snapshot with Carina wearing it. It's not the best when it comes to resolution, but I can't resist her expression. She's about two months old here...and six weeks in this one on her Grandmother's couch in Arkansas. I found one of those little shoes, but not the other.

My children didn't wear this yellow, checked dress; I did. I know. I know. It's old. It's over fifty years old, but just look at the teensy little rick-rack and the pockets. I'm not sure what I kept in them, because I could only have been a couple months old at the time, but they are cute.










This baby quilt was just an old one my mom made for my little sister and brother. She was going to toss it away, and, for once, I objected. It was made from scraps she had left over from all the dresses she had made for me and my four sisters over the years. We remembered wearing that fabric, so, of course, I had to bring it home. Now my grandbaby can enjoy those same prints, and that's a weird feeling, but a pleasant one.





The toys belong to Clay. That's her first clown, and a cabbage doll pet cat or lion or turnip maybe.

And there were more clothes that I didn't recognize; my instinct says they must be my granddaughter Mim's little clothes. Maybe next time she visits we can drag them out again and tell her how cute she was.

This music box was Elijah's. We bought it when he was going through a "Martin the Warrior" phase. It still plays and I know it's going to end up beside the duck in Blaze's Baby Bedroom....up high...out of reach, so it can survive another few years and decorate another person's attic.