Gosh, I love this. I plant geraniums every year, and bring at least one pot in to winter and bloom. They remind me of my dad ... who hated them -- weird I know, but this poem really drove that home. I could picture my dad, the engineer (his career, our dad, so he could give us the life he felt we deserved), but as a little boy in a school room, gazing out the window past those "stinking geraniums."
You have a better memory than I. But I do remember the desks. The ink well that we did not have to use. The carving and the ancient gum hardened like rock.
And our second grade teacher, Miss Colburn. They only grade school teacher I remember, because she gave me a D in math. We called her, Miss Cold Burn when she wasn't listening.
Later I got even. Scored in the 98th percentile on the graduate record exam on the quantitative part. Not so good on the verbal. Only the 45th percentile. Why I'm still learning how to write.
Do you teach more than one grade level?
If so, you may be ready for some NEW Reproducible Exercises, Tests, and Writing Connection Pages to use with Simple Steps to Sentence Sense for High School by Charlene Tess
Do you teach more than one grade level?
If so, you may be ready for some NEW Reproducible Exercises, Tests, and Writing Connection Pages to use with Simple Steps to Sentence Sense for High School by Charlene Tess
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And our second grade teacher, Miss Colburn. They only grade school teacher I remember, because she gave me a D in math. We called her, Miss Cold Burn when she wasn't listening.
Later I got even. Scored in the 98th percentile on the graduate record exam on the quantitative part. Not so good on the verbal. Only the 45th percentile. Why I'm still learning how to write.
Ron