Beaulieu’s Babbling!

Are you curious about the title? Are you a staff member? Would you like to be able to conduct professional development sessions online?

There is a trend to imbed professional development into our busy schedule. You might think…”I can’t add one more thing to my plate! There isn’t any room! I’m already stuffed!” Well, this is the program for you. PD360° Professional Development on Demand is an online training program with short video clips ranging from Achieving Reading Success in the Early Years to Differentiated Instruction for All Students to Reading, Writing, Listening and Speaking, and much, much more. Clips range anywhere from 30 seconds to 15 minutes. The ideal situation would be where a team of teachers (3-4) meet to discuss a topic they are all interested in. Sessions are never to last more than 30 minutes…NEVER! Teachers would have the capability of viewing the clips in the 30 minutes, discussing parts of it, journaling about it and then deciding on the NEXT STEPS. The best part is that all of this can be done via the computer through the use of blogs. The video clips can be viewed at your convenience, you can have a quick chat about the content, and then you could “journal” (blog) with your team on successes, NEXT STEPS, or anything else pertaining to that clip.

There are questions to answer following the viewing of the clip, and there are questions to reflect on at a later date to see if what you’ve learned and implimented was successful in your classroom.

This is another great opportunity for professional development, and the possibility of the time spent on PD360 being able to be used for professional development is a realistic goal. If you’re interested, let me know. I will have to submit your e-mail to central office for them to enter it into the system.

A gray, cloudy sky hovered overhead the entire day today. At times, the clouds seemed to part as a sliver of sunlight attempted to peek through. The sight, simultaneously eerie and beautiful, had an effect on me I couldn’t explain. It nearly took my breath away. I scampered around the house opening doors and windows, allowing Mother Nature to enter into my little world, to swirl my curtains around, to slam a door I hadn’t properly propped open, and to whistle through the cracks and crevices of my home. I love this kind of day. Well, I usually love this kind of day. Today, however, as I watched the storm brew around me, I suddenly think of another day, just like this day, a day eight years ago.

It was a dreary kind of day. The sky was gray and cloudy, just like me. “Does Mother Nature” feel my feelings? Does she know the turmoil and chaos (the storm) brewing in my mind? Does she understand the howling, whirling, whistling sounds swirling around in my head as I have to make an extremely difficult decision today.

Today, I have to take Nicki, my 16-year old pekingese to the vet for what I know will be her last visit to the vet…her last day on this earth. My heart is breaking, the pain is unbearable. I look into her eyes, and I can see her pleading with me, “Please let me go. I am tired. My body is tired. I cannot fight anymore. I don’t want to. I want to be at peace and pain free.” I know I have to let her go. I know I have to do what is in her best interest. But, I am selfish, and I try to convince myself that she will pull through once again…just like she always does. We just need a new medication and time. Unfortunately, I also know I’m kidding myself. I realize her time has come, and that my time has come to say farewell.

As I remember that day, I remember my gloomy mood, my aching heart, the pounding in my head. I remember cradling her fragile, skeletal body in a blanket and holding her as gently as I would a baby; talking to her, soothing her (and myself), telling her everything would be alright. She literally fell asleep in my arms on the ride to the vet. I remember walking into the clinic, knowing that once I walked through the door, there was no turning back. I remember telling the doctor that I didn’t want her to feel any pain, and the doctor assured me she wouldn’t. I remember sitting on the floor, cradling her in my lap. The doctor placed an IV in her foreleg, and then gently, ever so gently, she administered the medication that would forever take away the pain. We (Tim, Tina, Ricky and I) sat there, our little family, crying softly as we watched our Nicki close her eyes for the last time.

We stayed for a little while, huddled on the floor, trying to regain some composure before walking out of the clinic. I remember as I left the clinic, holding Nicki wrapped in her blanket, there was a break in the clouds, and a sliver of sunlight broke through…

My brain, a wireless network, scrambling from one subject to another. Or is it wireless? Maybe that’s the problem! there are too many wires…criss-crossing all over the place, shorting out, sending some (not all) sparks of information across the scrambled highway known as my brain.

“M-r-e-o-w! M-r-e-o-w! M-R-E-O-W!” K-pang, k-pang. “M-R-R-E-O-O-W-W-W!!!” Ah, the joyful sound of Kuro wanting out of Tina’s room in the morning. I roll out of bed, look at the clock and read 5:35 a.m. “Kuro,” I think to myself, “it’s Saturday! I don’t want to get up at 5:35 a.m. How is that Tina doesn’t hear you, and she sleeps in the same room with you?” It doesn’t matter, I’m awake now…and so are the rest of the pets. Everyone wants to eat, and I know they’ll never let me go back to sleep. So, I just resign myself to the fact that I’m getting up now, and I let Kuro out of Tina’s room.

She saunters up to me, her tail swishing gently back and forth. Ever so softly, she brushes against my leg as she meanders past me down the hall. It’s almost like it’s her little way of saying, “Thank you…it’s about time!”

“Mreow…” soft and sweet she speaks…not that she’s been freed. “Pbrrrr! Pbrrrr! She purrs, barely above a whisper, as she sits at the end hall appearing to ponder her next move. “Hmmm…isn’t there a frog in the kitchen somewhere?”

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

It was a warm…an extremely warm day, in the Summer of 1993. Tim and I and the kids were on the way to Germany. We were waiting to board our plane. This was the first time Ricky and Tina had been to Germany. It was also the first time on a plane for two of our pets, Thomasina (cat) and Sheba (German Shepherd). 1993 was in the days before 9/11; thererfore, it wasn’t necessary  to be at the airport two hours early, except that we had the pets with us, and they had to be at the airport two hours early. As we dropped Thomasina and Sheba off, it was a bit heartbreaking and exciting at the same time. They didn’t know why we were leaving them, Ricky and Tina who were 8 and 5 years old didn’t know why we had to leave them two hours early, and I was just a nervous wreck, because, I have this fear of flying. At the same time, we (well, Tim and the kids) were looking forward to our adventure. On the other hand, the last thing I wanted to do was sit in the airport for two hours anticipating the impending flight!

Nonetheless, here we were. Once we dropped of Thomasina and Sheba, Ricky and Tina got into the excited mood that only a child can in anticipation of the upcoming flight. My parents were with us (Dad and Tim had driven to Dallas the day before with the pets. Mom and I had flown from El Paso to Dallas), and between us adults, we tried to keep the kids busy so that the wait time didn’t seem so long. Any of you who are parents realize that is near impossible for a child who is anxiously awaiting something. Five minutes seems like an eternity! However, our time to board finally arrived.

Things seemed to be going smoothly. We found our seats, put our carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments, and settled down to await take-off. Boy, was it a l-o-n-g wait! The Dallas airport is a fairly busy hub to say the least, and we were about plane #15 in the queue waiting to take off. We waited for what seemed like an eon (Tina had curled up in her seat and fallen asleep), and it was finally our turn to taxi down the runway for takeoff. Let me tell you, taking off is one of the things I hate most about flying (right there behind landing)! Anyway, we taxi down the run, picking up speed, and when we get to the end…nothing…I mean NOTHING! I sat there squeezing the armrests, waiting for the butterfly feeling in my stomach, and nothing happened. The captain comes over the loudspeaker to inform us that he couldn’t get all the engines to power up, and it was unsafe to try lifting off. “No kidding!” I’m thinking to myself. “Can I get off this plane now?” Of course, I couldn’t. By now, I’m really a nervous wreck! Thank God, Tim was keeping Ricky busy and Tina was sleeping.

We taxi all the way back…yup, to the end of the queue, and our wait starts over! Once again, it is our turn for take-off. By now, I’m beside myself! I’m praying silently, I’m clenching the armrests, and I literally dare anyone to say something to me! Here goes! We pick up speed, I hear the engines humming, and for the second time…nothing. That’s right! We can’t take off. I’m so scared, I’m actually sick to my stomach! As we are taxing back, and I’m thinking, “Please, God, not a third time,” the captain makes the announcement that they are readying another plane for us. Yes, Tina is still asleep.

The ground crew was pretty quick and efficient in moving all the cargo (including our poor pets) to the other plane. I had to wake Tina to get her to walk to the other plane, and she asked in that little 5-year old voice, “Are we there yet?”
     “No, Baby, we’re not there yet, we’re still in Dallas at the same airport.
     “Oh,” was all she could say.

Once we were all settled into the second plane, we got back in line for our take-off. Forget the “butterfly” feeling, I had earthquakes in my stomach! All was for naught though, as this time, we were able to lift off without a hitch. What a relief. After 3½ hours of sitting on the tarmac, we were finally in the air and on our way. Now, all I had to look forward to was 9½ hours on this plane with most of it being over water!

That’s the question! Should I make my blog “public” or should I make it “private?” The choice is yours, but there are a few things to know. If your blog is “private”…

- Only logged in users may view your blog. The only problem with this is that the users have to have a login just like you do. That means that your family and friends will not be able to view your site and write comments on it.
- Since your blog is “private,” I don’t believe I can add it to my blog, because then anyone can just click on it.

If you do not see your name under the 2008-2009 Students category, then your parents chose a “private” blog for you. Should your parents want to change that, they can let me know (in writing).

I don’t usually watch news podcasts, but I clicked on the baby panda and mom cuddling and somehow wound up finding a clip about an individual being pulled over for driving in excess of 100 mph in order to get his choking, dying dog to the vet. Now let me make myself clear. First of all, I am a pet lover, but I wouldn’t drive 100 mph to get my dog to the vet. I also respect law enforcement, and I understand that officers don’t know what to expect when they pull over a speeding car. However, the officer in this video doesn’t really attempt to give the guy a chance to explain, and then once the dog dies, the officer appears (by his comments) to be appalled that the man would go to such lengths for a dog! What bothers me is that the officer asked the man if he were willing to rear-end a family of 4 and kill them because of his reckless driving, all for a dog. The man does say, “No sir.” Fast forward to the end of the video where the officer is telling the man that he’ll be lenient this time since he understands the man thought it was an “emergency.” Then the officer proceeds to tell the man that the next time he drives like that he better have a dying child in his car. Wait…does that mean he could drive in excess of 100 mph, rear-end a family of 4, and kill them…as long as he himself had a dying child in the car?

I don’t know how to add the video link to this post; however, you can search for: “dog dies in ” on either google or youtube and see the video for yourself.

There she was, the cutest black ball of fluff I had ever seen. She almost looked like a puffed up blowfish with just her legs and tail sticking out in all directions! but she was cute, and she was mine. My husband and I had gone to the local kennel looking for an addition to our new family. This addition was going to be our “first” baby, and I had my heart set on a Yorkshire Terrier…that was until I saw “her.” My heart melted, and that was the end of that.

Now, the name. Hmm? What do we name her? Princess? No…too prissy! Fluffy? No…too common. Lady? Isn’t that what all cute girl puppies are named. I had an idea, she looked just like a little Gremlin (the movie Gremlins was a big hit the year we bought her), and the cutest Gremlin was named Gizmo. That’s it, I would name her Gizmo. Well, maybe not…Gizmo was a boy, and then everyone would think she was a boy and not the cute little girl she really was. Finally, Tim and I agreed on Nicki. I don’t why. I don’t even know where the idea came from. Neither of us knew any Nicki’s, but she was a “Nicki,” and that became her name.

Have you ever wondered where your name came from? Why it’s the name your mom and dad gave you the day you were born? Why it wasn’t the cool name you would have picked for yourself? With all these questions bouncing around in my head like electrons in an atom A4atom.jpg, I began to think about my name. Thinking about my name made me think about the person I was named after.

To begin with, I know I am named after my great-grandmother, Virginia, which really makes me feel special since she was such an extraordinary woman. To me, she was “Omsi,” but to those who knew her as Virginia, she was an educated, strong-willed woman who lived life to the fullest. Born in Romania to a duke and duchess, she chose to give up her birthright and marry her true love, a commoner. She taught herself seven languages, because she thought is was important for an individual to be able to communicate with others. She was a lady…I found an old etiquette book in her old attic, and she had written in the margins all the proper etiquette one needed when entertaining Americans: how to greet them, how to set a formal table, and how to sit like a lady!

No, Virginia probably is not the name I would have chosen for myself. However, it is the name my parents chose for me, and they chose it in honor of a woman whom they both love and respect. I too, love and respect her and only hope that I live up to my namesake (I don’t know about the seven languages)!

My daughter and I were dog-sitting for my sister this evening…yes, dog-sitting. Anyway, she (my sister) has a new member in her little family. She adopted a dog from Animal Control (that’s a story in itself), and he’s the cutest little thing! He’s a Chihuahua or part Chihuahua, and he’s so shy. He was sidling up to Tina (my daughter), sniffing her stockinged feet and softly wagging his tail. Tina was scratching him behind his ear, when all of sudden, she said, “How is it that something this small, this tiny, actually descended from the wolf? How is that all dogs are descended from the wolf?”
   The only answer I could come up with was, “Many years of breeding.” But, then I began to think, how does a tiny, little bit nothing truly come from a wolf?” Where in the world did the selective process start? What makes a Chihuahua a Chihuahua; a Pekingese a Pekingese; a Border Collie a Border Collie? I mean if they ultimately share the same ancestors, where did the difference begin? Where did the “odd wolf out” come from to start the process of the different breeds? Today, it’s easy to understand how breeders use different breeds to create new ones, but in days gone by, where did those different breeds come from?