I can vote to veto
hate and fear-mongering politicos,
a refusal to aid and abet upper-echelon manifestos.
You can vote to veto
whatever tickles your own toes,
a fair bet to ensure your own democratic say-so.
But please don’t vote to veto
empathy,
it’s absence begets and kowtows to a discordant symphony.
Next October, I swear I’m going to read nothing but horror, thriller, and zombie novels. I read quite the random mix, but I managed to squeeze in a few spooky-ish books for Halloween month.
Let the monthly mini book reviews commence.
(I swear, next month, I’ll write book reviews immediately after I finish reading books.****said with my fingers crossed behind my back****)
As always, any discussion is welcome, and I’m always looking for recommendations.
All cover art taken from Goodreads.com.
Thank goodness for daily prompts when you need them.
languid flame flickering
its haunted hollow
turning a pinprick pyre into respite
resisting the open wound onyx night
languid, turning
lantern
I read a tale about a young banshee,
who wailed of widespread, whispering despair.
But the man, he lambasted her decree
and shushed and hushed the howling as unfair.
From then on, the ban she breathed was brutal.
While the man, he nabbed fame and accolades,
and she nabbed death threats and disapproval.
She was banished, beleaguered, and betrayed.
Alone, the banshee refused the silence
and asked Can she? and if they could ban her.
Sister banshees all formed an alliance
and marched with “Ban He” written on banners.
And finally the power-crazed Macbeths
left banshees be and faced symbolic death.
I am only posting because I’ve committed to writing a post weekly. Be prepared to be less than underwhelmed.
(Disclaimer–These are not true to form haiku and run together to form one mildly incoherent poem.)
I’ve taught class all week
with an annoying fever
and ear infection.
Why teach while I’m sick?
Because if I don’t show the
kids are lunatics.
I try to save days
for scheduled doc visits
and personal leave.
I save my sick days
because I’m a mother and
my kid gets ill, too.
Teaching while febrile,
delirious, and loopy
makes students nervous.
I love an excuse
to force students to question
my stability . . .
(and ‘cause messing with
them while I’m sick makes me feel
a tad bit better.)
September was a glorious reading month over here at Mrs. Ram’s Jams. I hit the 100 books read for the year mark, and read some great (and some less-than-great) books.
For a full list of what I’ve read so far this year, you can check out my book challenge list at Mrs. Ram’s Goodreads Book Challenge.
But without further ado, here’s my September reading list:
P.S. Why do I struggle writing reviews for books I loved? It’s much easier to articulate why I didn’t like a book.
P.P.S. I need to start writing reviews immediately when I’m done reading and save them for my monthly books read posts. This whole I’m-gonna-wait-until-the-month’s-end-process-and-review-everything-in-one-fell-swoop malarkey is trash.
Note: All cover art images were taken from Goodreads.
Links to other book reviews and book lists by Mrs. Ram’s Jams:
Book List: What Mrs. Ram Read Recently
Mrs. Ram’s Jams Reading List for May, June, and (the First Half) of July
The Books I Read in March and April
Poise
ensnares all the boys
polish and posture
cheekbones and allure
style and grace
smart with a pretty face
Sin
smirks his devil-may-care grin
whiskey and cokes
tattoos and smokes
lies and alibis
trouble in a handsome disguise
Poise collides with Sin’s eyes,
and poison sighs.
It’s that time of year again.
Back to school supplies have been replaced with Halloween decorations in Target’s seasonal aisles. Basic girls in their twenties, pretending they’re professional photographers, are staging pumpkin spice lattes on tables, snapping pictures of their overpriced coffees, swiping right until landing on the perfect filter, and then posting their faux artwork on their Instastories. Football fans are gorging themselves on a smorgasbord of touchdowns, tailgates, and tallboys, an all-American weekend buffet.
But it’s also the time of year for Mrs.Ram’s Jam to write a pain awareness post because September is Pain Awareness Month.
Because while the shelf stocker at Target was swapping out the display of Ticonderoga #2 pencils for skeleton wreaths, he was suffering from a migraine.
Because even though sorority girl Sally’s posts seem overbearing, she was crippled with a fibromyalgia flare all week and is celebrating its end with an expensive coffee and Instagram.
Because while the biggest Saint’s fan in New Orleans hollers “Who Dat” in the Superdome on Sunday at noon, he’s masking the pain of the pinched nerve in his lower back that’s causing him to consider going on disability.
Because one in three Americans suffer from pain.
Because pain sufferers suck it up and trudge on when they can and deserve to be heard.
Because pain sufferers deserve to be heard when it gets to be too much.
And because, as always, pain only remains invisible if isn’t discussed.
For more information about Pain Awareness Month, visit the American Chronic Pain Association’s website.
For more information about pain, visit the American Academy of Pain Medicine’s website.
Here are links to other posts about pain and chronic illness by Mrs. Ram’s Jams:
A Poem: Invisible Illness Idioms
My New Normal: Meniere’s Disease
Chronic Illness: Playing Phone Tag with Doctors’ Offices
I’m tired of societal teacher shaming and teacher shaming within the teaching profession. Are you? These unrealistic expectations Need. To. Go.
you’re a bad teacher
if you can’t hold your bladder for six hours plus
you’re a bad teacher
if a student and his parents see you at a restaurant with a glass of wine in front of you
you’re a bad teacher
if every single lesson isn’t differentiated and appealing to every single type of learner
you’re a bad teacher
if it takes you a week to return 95 five paragraph essays with quality feedback
you’re a bad teacher
if you question state standards and
if you don’t question state standards
you’re a bad teacher
if you don’t teach to the test
and if you do teach to the test
you’re a bad teacher
if all of your students aren’t mastery by the end of the year
you’re a bad teacher
if you don’t grade at home
if you turn your email off after school hours
if you aren’t available to students and parents 24/7
if you aren’t losing sleep
you’re a bad teacher
if you take two days off in a row because you have contagious strep throat
if you take a day off to accompany your kindergartner on her pumpkin patch field trip
you’re a bad teacher
if you put your children, your spouse, yourself before the job
you’re a bad teacher
if you don’t spend your own money to fund
pencils, paper, and markers for your students who can’t afford them
donuts, pizza, or ice cream for the victors of a classroom competition
stickers, candy, and prizes for motivation
you’re a bad teacher
if you think you deserve a raise
because, how dare you, it’s a calling, it’s not about the money
if you think you deserve a raise, did you forget about your summers off
you’re a bad teacher
even though you have a bachelor’s degree in your area of expertise and a master’s to seal the deal
you’re just a teacher
you’re a bad teacher
if you take a day off to protest at the capital for educational reform
you should be in the classroom instead, teaching those kids
you’re a bad teacher
let me, my suit, my tie, my MBA make legislative decisions for you
you’re just a teacher
you’re a bad teacher
if you’re human
if you have a life outside your career
if you don’t ooze platitudes and exalt your profession to the masses
if you’re not a martyr
You’re a bad teacher.
You’re just a teacher.
You’re a bad teacher.
I’m a bad teacher .
On Monday, I will have a six year old. I just. Sigh. No words.
Except I wrote a poem, so I did “word” just a little for my Little Thing.
the floor is lava in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1
glittery nail polish on fingers and toes
pink, poofy dresses that pass the twirl test when spun
fluffy kitties, fuzzy blankets, and fabulous bows
noodles and strawberries
cartwheels and splits
Friday night dance parties featuring Katy Perry
a whole box of tissue because of evening sneezing fits
proper nouns are too hard to capitalize
flour measured to perfection to bake cookies from scratch
unwrapping toys like LOL Surprise
funky socks that are mix and match
silky, soft nightgowns worn all day on the weekends
slime experiments made with Borax and Elmer’s Glue
play dates full of giggles with her best girlfriend
the antithesis of the color blue
Happy sixth birthday dear, precious Little Thing.
May your sweet, joyous, and innocent soul forever continue to laugh, dance, and sing.
(Here’s a picture of her birthday cake for her party, which is LOL Surprise doll themed. She decorated it herself with minimal guidance from her nana, who always comes to visit from Illinois for the occasion.)
