At M’s parent-teacher interview yesterday we asked about how they teach kids to form letters, because M does some very odd things when she prints.

“Oh, we don’t teach that anymore,” said her (absolutely wonderful) teacher, “Any which way they get the letters on the page legibly is fine.” And we all made a few cracks about “back in the day” and “…with my feather dipped in ink” and that sort of thing.

But now I’m wondering: is forming letters properly really one of those things one can learn informally?

Kids these days, etc.

I just found out that a women who used to be on a listserv with me has died at the age of 56.

She was due to retire this upcoming spring. As long as I knew her she was talking about when she’d retire, how much she was looking forward to it, all the things she’d do…

RIP Angela Wilke. This isn’t the retirement you deserved.

edit to add — Melle said it much, much better.

1. I burned my hand nastily this morning — left hand, of course; whoever burns their non-dominant hand? — and I can’t even blame anyone. It was just a stupid non-preventable accident (lid fell off the kettle [for the first time ever] while I was making coffee [not even real coffee! Just my usual pathetic decaf!] and my fingers were in the path of the resulting blast of steam). Three and a half of my fingers are red, shiny, and excruciatingly painful.
2. Hideous weather. Rain combined with snow so thick it makes a wet splat when it hits the ground. Rain, snow. Pick one. Or preferably neither. Please send me to a Caribbean island now or let me hibernate under the duvet until about April, kthxbai.
3. On a related note, Canada keeps spurning Turks & Caicos when they approach us and ask to be a Canadian territory. Why? Why?
4. We got all excited yesterday because on a whim we bought celeriac (impressively ugly, as it should be), cooked it, ate it and actually liked it. Getting excited about vegetables = middle age, for sure.
5. Can’t sleep because my throat is too scratchy. Tired.
6. Dark by 4pm today. Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhggg.
7. Out of Grand Marnier.

I think I get a do-over for today. All in favour, say Aye.

M with iPod and ballerina/fairy getup

Originally uploaded by morecoffeeplease.

The modern five-year-old, shown in its native habitat, with accoutrements: sturdy green army-style pants for playing outside, tutu, cape, wand, Sigg water bottle, and iPod.

Last night when I went to bed, the maple tree out front of our house still had most of its leaves.

This morning, not so much. The neighbour’s car was covered with a thick layer of leaves. The path, the lawn, the sidewalk and the street are pretty much indistinguishable.

I suppose at some point soon I’ll have to acknowledge that winter is arriving very soon.

I don’t watch The Daily Show myself, but this video by its writers about caps it:

Good luck to all the TV writers out there, and may they prevail.

h/t to DMc

From a federal government press release in my RSS –

Allergy Alert – Undeclared Milf Protein in Anna’s Biscuits and Cookies

All kinds of rude jokes practically write themselves.

(as of this moment, they haven’t fixed it on the website either)

This is a photo I did not take of a young guy standing in the doorway of my subway car, dressed thuggishly with the low-slung goofy pants, huge hoodie and the whole bit, with two perfectly spherical puffs of black hair sticking out the top of his black do-rag, one on each side.

(hat tip to Boing Boing)

Now you can buy plush human organs — no, not THAT kind of organ*, just the boring internal “guts” kind of organ.

I could see giving someone a plush anatomically-correct heart as a silly romantic gesture, if the recipient were suitably biology-geeky. But on what possible occasion would you give someone a plush kidney or liver? Hmm.

Perhaps the plush organs could be friends with, or alternatively have wars with, the giant plush microbes.

* I am so, so not imageGoogling that concept