Tuesday and Again with The Math

I'm up early and in the kitchen. 0500 hrs. and I'm fixing lunch for Carrie. Shrimp Alfredo, some crackers and some Fruit Loops along with an Apple juice drink is crammed into her small lunch satchel. It will soon be time to collect her and we will share a ride to Ernest Gallet, the elementary school she attends.

Some hours later: I'm sitting in my usual chair at Mrs. Steven's desk. I have my red pen and my pencil and my scratch paper and I'm ready for my math lesson. I'm surrounded by 5th graders, who I fear know much more about this subject then I know.

The lesson begins and again my attention doesn't waiver. I am making a supreme effort to be attentive to this class then I was some 50 yrs. ago when I sat in a  5th grade math class.  Oh, but to only revisit that time and been more concerned with what those educators  were trying to  present to me. I'm embarrassed at my lack of motivation those many years ago.

Devisor, dividend and quotient. That's the language of math and the language we speak in class.  We are learning to divide using two numbers as our devisor. Sound simple? I thought so too. My way of finding the devisor was haphazard and a "guesstimate". I've learned to "round" the devisor and do multiples of the rounded devisor to find the quotient! I'm excited and impressed. My instructor says this is the way she learned to find the quotient. I don't remember how I was taught and evidently if taught this way, I didn't "get it". I can't estimate the age of this math instructor, mainly because I'm just not good at guessing anyone's age. I know she is a grandmother and her daughter looks to be in her late twenties or early thirties AND she taught Teddy (the grandson) years ago when he was in the 5th grade. Teddy is now 23 yrs. old so that should give me some clue as to her age. My main point about wondering about her age is the method used with her by her teachers. Maybe my teachers taught the same way as hers but I just didn't pay attention.

I'm learning math again and possibly for the first time! I'm enjoying myself immensely and who would have thought that I would ever say that about math??

Soon Carrie will be home and it will be time to do math homework. I'm ready. I hope she is.

5th Grade Monday

Monday morning and the new material starts. I'll be in class again this week. I'm taking a math class and it happens to be filled with 5th graders. This is nothing like the math I had in the fifth grade. I don't think we hit this level of math until my senior year of school.

My attention is riveted on the teacher. Mrs. Stephens is a medium height, atheletic looking woman. She wears a pair of jeans, a t shirt and a pair of sneakers. Her thick brown hair is streaked lightly with strands of grey and falls to shoulder length. The hair is of the untamed variety. It's thickness and coarseness causes it to splay out around her head. The hairline is low leaving a small forehead. A pair of  bright floral reading glasses is used to hold her hair off her face. During the lesson she reaches up and pulls those glasses down to the bridge of her nose while her hair becomes unbound from those glasses and springs outward and down to her face. Soon she will move the glasses back to the top of her head creating a "headband" effect for her hair.
She bounds around the room, engaging  her students in the lesson she is delivering. Sometimes she speeds back to the white board on the wall and covers it with numbers. Her lessons move along quickly. She interjects stories and examples that co exist with what she teaches. Sometimes I can keep up with her and sometimes I just figure I'll figure it out when I get home.

Carrie sits a few rows away from me. I check occasionally to see if she is "getting it". Sometimes she gives me a thumbs up and at other times she waves her hand as if to say "somewhat". I know that when we get home we will compare our knowledge and together we will do her homework. She will listen as I go over the lesson of the day; she will do some problems and I will check her work.

I am bound and determined that she will become a good math scholar. It's a lot of work and frustrating at times.
This afternoon she came home and had something to eat and attempted her home work. After a few minutes she was complaining of a headache and being lightheaded so I excused her to her bedroom for a brief nap. I'll wake her in an hour or so and we will finish her homework.

My goal for Carrie is organization. Her skills in that department are lacking. I do notice improvement in the weeks I have been working with her. She now deposits her ID badge into a pocket of her book bag as soon as she gets home. Her clothes are laid out each night; she knows where everything is  which makes it easier to find when she gets to school.

I'll be at the school again tomorrow in the event the teacher has new material to present. A test on Thursday and a quiz on Friday is scheduled. We will be busy this week.
I'm off to do some homework. My own understanding of math is improving. I'm enjoying math albeit my nerves still get 'on edge' when faced with new problems I don't understand.

November and Many New Things

It's the holiday season. Baubles and beads have appeared in the stores and everyone is gearing up to let loose a hail of pierces into those credit cards. It's the season of giving and guilt  followed by the season of regret, anger and amazement at the giving that they will be paying for in the remaining year. I have never played that game. My Christmas list is short and surrounds my immediate family. Years ago I released my siblings from gift giving. Coming from a large family that now lives scattered around the USA, the postage cost more then the gift that was given.

Now for a clinical update on that surgery on the left foot. The repair of the Achilles has been a long slow progress. I do not remember it being like this on the right foot when that Achilles was repaired. Maybe I have selective memory but I do not remember all the swelling; all the pain when walking and then the burning nerve pain. It is now about three months post op and finally the pains have noticeably decreased. There is still an occasional rif of pain, hot and intense but short in duration. In the past week I have been able to walk with it feeling as though a hot nail was imbedded in my foot. The pain in the foot centered around the incision site for the first month or two. Following that decrease in pain, the top part of my foot toward my toes became very painful. The following week the pain had moved to the mid part of my foot and the next week it was centered around my ankle topside of my foot. It's November the 11th and this surgery was performed around August 3rd. It seems as though my life has been disrupted for longer then this 3 month period.

Now on to the Trip. Carrie and I ran away this past weekend. We ran to New Orleans. It was an experience of many for Carrie. She has been to the city a few times before but she was a small child. This trip she was 11 yrs. old and able to note many of the strange things that are always going on in New Orleans.  Our first afternoon was spent parking the car and walking over 5 blocks back to the Butterfly and Insectitorium.. By the time we got back to that event, there was less then 45 minutes to view the exhibit. We decided to try the next day. We were on Canal Street and the trolleys were zipping by. Carrie's first trip on the trolley was about to begin. We found a bench in the center of Canal and waited. Soon a trolley arrived. We bought an all day pass for 6.00 (3.00 per person) and climbed aboard. Carrie wanted to sit on a bench alongside the wall and that's where we sat. She watched as different characters boarded. Many of the riders were people that had worked  in the many restaurants in the Quarters. Dressed in black pants and shirts, a name tag identified their place of employment. Tired from their shift, they sat with head bowed, eyes closed awaiting their stop to embark on their evening at home. Tomorrow they would board the trolley for another day of business.

An elderly man in soiled shirt and pants, face wrinkled and worn,  with lips that covered toothless gums, he held on to a crumpled paper bag. As the trolley moved down the tracks, he stood and walked to the door area. He was not planning on getting off but only to reach into that paper bag and bring out a half eaten hamburger. Eating on the trolley is not allowed. He stood in the stair well out of sight of the trolley conductor and munched on his sandwich.

A young couple sat across from us holding hands. A middle aged couple held a quiet conversation, pointing at various sights along the way.

Carrie watched out the window as we moved down Canal Street. She watched as the elderly man munched his sandwich and as the restaurant workers left the trolley at their stops. She learned she could pull on the cable above our heads that signaled the trolley conductor a wish to stop and alight.

We got off midway and grabbed a spot on another bench to wait for another trolley  heading back down Canal.

We headed back to the car, legs tired from all the walking and looking forward to a comfortable stay in a hotel. No reservations were made in advance so we headed to Metairie to look for a room. The Landmark Hotel provided a room for the night. We sat in the hotel café too tired to venture out and look for a place to eat. A wedding reception was being held in the Mardi Gras room. Couples came in dressed in formal attire, beaded dresses and glittering shoes, the ladies walked by with their gentlemen dressed in tuxedos. Both man and woman wore masks that sported long black feathers and beads; the men without the feathers but masks that were encrusted with colored beads and baubles.

We watched as they paraded into the hotel and past our table. People watching is what New Orleans offers in abundance.

The city and it's climate make a liveable  arrangement for the homeless. As we walked the city the next day, people wrapped up cocoon like in their blankets dotted the city. One young man had a box sitting beside resting place for donations, three books rested at his head, one open to his last reading spot.

A man with a violin stood at one corner playing for pay. Carrie begged a dollar to put in his box. We stood for a few minutes to listen and then moved on.

Walking down Decatur, a wedding party was marching down the street. A band marched and played as the bride high stepped it along with her huge bridal party. Always something to see in New Orleans if you hang around long enough.

Our second day, we went to the Aquarium of the Americas. Eels, alligators and lots and lots of fish, penquins and frogs, sharks in tanks with scuba divers and mermaids made for an interesting afternoon. I had to take a few breaks to sit and rest my legs. I had aching leg muscles for the next three days.

Lunch was at the Riverwalk mall. I let Carrie select the type of food to eat; I chose the location. We sat inside and watched as the cruise ships loaded their passengers. More walking to get back to the car and we had had enough of New Orleans. Another 3 hrs on the road and we were back home in Lafayette. Carrie is very easy to travel with. She just goes with the flow but now she was tired and ready to get to bed. School again tomorrow. We enjoyed out little weekend getaway.

November and Many New Things

It's the holiday season. Baubles and beads have appeared in the stores and everyone is gearing up to let loose a hail of pierces into those credit cards. It's the season of giving and guilt  followed by the season of regret, anger and amazement at the giving that they will be paying for in the remaining year. I have never played that game. My Christmas list is short and surrounds my immediate family. Years ago I released my siblings from gift giving. Coming from a large family that now lives scattered around the USA, the postage cost more then the gift that was given.

Now for a clinical update on that surgery on the left foot. The repair of the Achilles has been a long slow progress. I do not remember it being like this on the right foot when that Achilles was repaired. Maybe I have selective memory but I do not remember all the swelling; all the pain when walking and then the burning nerve pain. It is now about three months post op and finally the pains have noticeably decreased. There is still an occasional rif of pain, hot and intense but short in duration. In the past week I have been able to walk with it feeling as though a hot nail was imbedded in my foot. The pain in the foot centered around the incision site for the first month or two. Following that decrease in pain, the top part of my foot toward my toes became very painful. The following week the pain had moved to the mid part of my foot and the next week it was centered around my ankle topside of my foot. It's November the 11th and this surgery was performed around August 3rd. It seems as though my life has been disrupted for longer then this 3 month period.

Now on to the Trip. Carrie and I ran away this past weekend. We ran to New Orleans. It was an experience of many for Carrie. She has been to the city a few times before but she was a small child. This trip she was 11 yrs. old and able to note many of the strange things that are always going on in New Orleans.  Our first afternoon was spent parking the car and walking over 5 blocks back to the Butterfly and Insectitorium.. By the time we got back to that event, there was less then 45 minutes to view the exhibit. We decided to try the next day. We were on Canal Street and the trolleys were zipping by. Carrie's first trip on the trolley was about to begin. We found a bench in the center of Canal and waited. Soon a trolley arrived. We bought an all day pass for 6.00 (3.00 per person) and climbed aboard. Carrie wanted to sit on a bench alongside the wall and that's where we sat. She watched as different characters boarded. Many of the riders were people that had worked  in the many restaurants in the Quarters. Dressed in black pants and shirts, a name tag identified their place of employment. Tired from their shift, they sat with head bowed, eyes closed awaiting their stop to embark on their evening at home. Tomorrow they would board the trolley for another day of business.

An elderly man in soiled shirt and pants, face wrinkled and worn,  with lips that covered toothless gums, he held on to a crumpled paper bag. As the trolley moved down the tracks, he stood and walked to the door area. He was not planning on getting off but only to reach into that paper bag and bring out a half eaten hamburger. Eating on the trolley is not allowed. He stood in the stair well out of sight of the trolley conductor and munched on his sandwich.

A young couple sat across from us holding hands. A middle aged couple held a quiet conversation, pointing at various sights along the way.

Carrie watched out the window as we moved down Canal Street. She watched as the elderly man munched his sandwich and as the restaurant workers left the trolley at their stops. She learned she could pull on the cable above our heads that signaled the trolley conductor a wish to stop and alight.

We got off midway and grabbed a spot on another bench to wait for another trolley  heading back down Canal.

We headed back to the car, legs tired from all the walking and looking forward to a comfortable stay in a hotel. No reservations were made in advance so we headed to Metairie to look for a room. The Landmark Hotel provided a room for the night. We sat in the hotel café too tired to venture out and look for a place to eat. A wedding reception was being held in the Mardi Gras room. Couples came in dressed in formal attire, beaded dresses and glittering shoes, the ladies walked by with their gentlemen dressed in tuxedos. Both man and woman wore masks that sported long black feathers and beads; the men without the feathers but masks that were encrusted with colored beads and baubles.

We watched as they paraded into the hotel and past our table. People watching is what New Orleans offers in abundance.

The city and it's climate make a liveable  arrangement for the homeless. As we walked the city the next day, people wrapped up cocoon like in their blankets dotted the city. One young man had a box sitting beside resting place for donations, three books rested at his head, one open to his last reading spot.

A man with a violin stood at one corner playing for pay. Carrie begged a dollar to put in his box. We stood for a few minutes to listen and then moved on.

Walking down Decatur, a wedding party was marching down the street. A band marched and played as the bride high stepped it along with her huge bridal party. Always something to see in New Orleans if you hang around long enough.

Our second day, we went to the Aquarium of the Americas. Eels, alligators and lots and lots of fish, penquins and frogs, sharks in tanks with scuba divers and mermaids made for an interesting afternoon. I had to take a few breaks to sit and rest my legs. I had aching leg muscles for the next three days.

Lunch was at the Riverwalk mall. I let Carrie select the type of food to eat; I chose the location. We sat inside and watched as the cruise ships loaded their passengers. More walking to get back to the car and we had had enough of New Orleans. Another 3 hrs on the road and we were back home in Lafayette. Carrie is very easy to travel with. She just goes with the flow but now she was tired and ready to get to bed. School again tomorrow. We enjoyed out little weekend getaway.