1. Post 884....wow, me, who would have thought, A Dragonfly!

    I took this picture today of a critter we caught at school.
    1st graders are good at spotting things.
    I think it's a wonderful picture. Actually.

    DSC03433 by you.

    One of my best I think.
    We saw it on the way to the Fire Station, on the wall, so I had to stop, catch it, get a jar, put it in carefully, and have it wait until we returned to really look it over. I learned quite a bit about dragonflies today by taking this one out to the yard to share it in our jar. It was popular for sure. I haven't sat down today yet, or had a break yet, or stopped working 5AM til 5PM yet, and on Yom Kippur- which I'm not thinking is appropriate, but still I want to blog about this amazing creature.
    Before you ask, yes, he's back in nature.

    First thing I found out by watching, dragonflies turn their heads around, 360 degrees, not like you might think at all, and they appear to groom their head. It goes ALL the way around, and this is a bit disconcerting. We noticed that. They right themselves when flipped over very efficiently too. And they make an incredible buzz flying.
    You know the best thing to do is take you to some good pages on them.

    So here we go, a festival of linking.
    If you just want to look through a million dragonfly links try this.
    It's just amazing.

    But I want to know more about this insect, and so I went to find something reasonable.
    So this page seems interesting, and I'm linking you here....
    This SAYS that they cannot sting. I am not sure about that, but I respect the information, and I did lift the bug right into my jar, so, okay.

    This page, What Is A Dragonfly? was the one we used to read about our find. Pretty interesting.
    My favorite part:

    "The face is a conglomeration of plates separated by seams called sutures. The sutures are often darkened into stripes. The upper half of the face is the frons, and the upper surface of the frons is a shelf-like protuberance on which various diagnostic markings may be found. The compound eye is composed of nearly 30,000 lenses, which work in consort to provide a rich visual image to the dragonfly. They are sight-based creatures who, with a quick turn of the head, are able to scan 360 degrees as well as above and below. Their vision probably allows them to discern individual wing beats, which to us would appear as a blur. They can see ultraviolet and polarized light. Many species also see well in dim light.

    Their two short bristly antennae are thought to function as windsocks or anemometers, measuring wind direction and speed, thereby giving them a method with which to assess their flight. By the way, dragonflies have no sense of hearing, cannot smell and are unable to vocalize."


    DSC03434 by you.
    I cannot say that I was surprised to learn the pattern of their lacy wings identifies them. It's remarkable. So if you read the information here are our wings to see if you can help us identify this one. We caught it in Oxnard, CA.

    DSC03447 by you.
    Here's a really cool video if you get into these things.


    I, evidentially, get into these things.

    I also get into origami so here is a pretty nice dragonfly you can keep. We all want to know WHERE to get that paper. It's wonderful.


    Here's a nice lesson about the dragonfly, again you have to be ready for it:



    So that's pretty amazing isn't it.
    DSC03439 by you.

    This video gets points for the music. Despite the fact I Can Never listen Again.



    Here I found interesting information:
    But , of course, we wanted to IDENTIFY our insect so we went here:
    CALIFORNIA DRAGONFLIES & DAMSELFLIES
    aka
    CALIFORNIA ODONATA

    I think it's a Common Green Darner
    See:

    images by Doug Aguillard at his website
    male
    images by Ray Bruun at his website
    male eating a flame skimmer
    images by Bob Miller at his website
    images by John Sterling at his website
    female
    female
    female
    female
    female
    female
    female emerging
    pair ovipositing
    female solo ovipositing
    nymph
    exuvia
    Scans
    male
    young male top
    young male side
    female
    female
    female
    nymph
    exuvia
    exuvia
    I'm pretty sure but please feel free to check my work. I looked at wings, color and eye.
    I think I'm on it!


    ( I'm adding in this wonderful link, On Dragonfly Migration, we record observations of migrations on this site and love it.)
    4

    View comments

  2. I would just like to place here again a poem my daughter wrote.

    I'm tempted to try and hook you into a very good book of poetry today.
    Good poets trying to do the impossible, while bleeding with a city and nation's pain.
    But I will say it was a book given to me that is worthy of a read on the day of rememberance of a national horror. Because of this day so many of us changed. Great poets inside.

    My daughter wrote a poem on one of those 9-11 days remembering. While helping me teach my 1st grade, as a saddened Principal read a poem on the intercom, and very, very ordinary life went on. Like a lot of things her words on that day might wash away, as so much ink, but I keep the poem around because it holds me, and contains some of our joint family memory....a day we remember how we worried over our family in New York, and the nation's safety...I think I'll share her work. It won't help you evaluate this book, but it will send you to it I think. It should.... the poets in the book are among our best.

    september 11th, by Sylvia Puglisi,
    A depressing sort of poem. But there could hardly be a happy one today, I suppose.

    * * *

    september 11
    17 first-graders
    moment of silence skipped
    for the immediacy of fresh strawberries
    and the novelty of pencil sharpeners
    (which may never wear off in this lifetime)

    invisible principal over the intercom
    (like in the old cartoons that reliably reproduced so many aspects of school particularly the cliched plots and precocious love lives)
    reading bad poetry in a
    flat lifeless voice
    like shakespeare in junior high
    with unenthused classmates
    esoteric
    and meaningless.
    stephen asks me to sharp his pencil
    and wonders why i
    teacher stands there for several moments
    staring blankly ahead
    looking like she's about to cry
    and then laughing quietly
    at how absurd it all is.

    come to the rug, children.
    i want to tell you a story
    of something that happened before you were born
    to people you will never get to know
    in a place you've never been.
    (next will be a story of a
    giant blue-green ball hurtling through space
    and a giant yellow ball
    they hold like lovers
    el sol y la tierra
    we love story time
    especially doctor seuss!)

    in the story it is a tuesday
    just like today.
    here is the sign for tuesday, make a t with your fingers and circle
    tuesday
    a cold bright tuesday just like today
    it was september 11 that day
    just like today.
    september is a long word that starts with an s
    and let's count to eleven
    one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven
    and in spanish
    uno dos tres quatro cinco seis siete ocho nueve diez once
    once upon a time
    in the year 2001
    before most of you were
    born or when you were the tiniest infant
    gnawing your fist and smiling to the delight of your parents.
    on a day just like today
    when little children just like you were counting the date
    a bad thing happened.
    a very bad thing.

    bad people
    very angry, nasty people
    who perhaps did not have enough
    people to love them
    hurt our country
    the United States of America
    you know America in sign language, children
    it is like a hug in a circle
    show me, children.

    our country was attacked
    some airplanes were flown into buildings
    important buildings
    two tall ones in New York
    which fell down
    also a military building called the Pentagon
    which has five sides
    show me five fingers, children.
    very good.
    and the last plane
    the good people took from the bad people
    and flew into the ground instead of a building.
    many, many people died.
    the people in the planes and the buildings
    and some of the firefighters who tried to save them
    they were heros, do you know that word?
    it means brave, brave people who did something amazing
    like going into a building that is on fire and falling down
    and rescuing people.
    are you listening, children?
    isaac, put your head down.

    this was the biggest attack on American soil ever
    which means
    that it was really scary for us
    really scary for your parents
    who probably grabbed you
    their babies
    from the cradles
    and held you close
    and whispered soft comforting words to themselves
    as they watched pictures on the tv
    and cried or
    just sat
    watching.

    the world is different now
    you don't know because you don't remember
    how it was before
    you can't ever know the time when parents
    worried about teething rings and toes
    and not fiery explosions.
    you weren't sitting there like i was
    in a classroom on tuesday
    (which was picture day and everyone
    was dressed to the nines
    it was two days after my birthday
    and i had new clothes
    i was looking sharp)
    a whisper went around
    that something terrible had happened
    a disaster
    an earthquake
    a bomb
    people were dying
    where? new york
    new york which was more magical and mystical to us than disneyland
    new york with the giant apple and the statue of liberty
    with the buildings that scraped the sky.

    there was a moment of silence

    kids fidgeted a little just like
    you fidget today just like
    we fidgeted when old men with gravelly voices told us of pearl harbor.
    they speak of it like an old scar
    the memory is still fresh.
    september 11 is for me a cut
    that it took a long time for me to realize was bleeding
    like the scrape on the leg that i got from band
    which i didn't feel at the time any more than a poke
    but later my band teacher gasped and
    pointed at when the blood was dripping to the floor.
    i have a scar now, too.

    but you children have no scars
    you are young and
    tiny and unblemished and i
    truly hope no history is made in your lifetime
    because it is a messy business
    or so i have found.
    we with memory scars will age and fade
    recounting stories for
    our childrens' school reports on historical events.
    you will grow and replace us and get your own scars
    falling off your bicycle.
    you will remember the date as a
    sad story and me
    teacher crying a little when you're not looking
    and so will move past me
    into the future
    without my fears and doubts.

    this consoles me, children
    on this big blue ball going around the big yellow ball
    you have danced around six times
    keep dancing, children
    the slow beautiful waltz of time.
    0

    Add a comment

  3. my daughters, center with their cousins by you.

    Happy Birthday To A Twenty Year Old Daughter

    An exquisite kind of memory was brought to me
    Today as your cousin posted her family's
    Photograph of happy girls taken when we last
    Blinked our eyes, visiting there, it was just before
    Time crept up, to now take you away to your adulthood.
    And this is your twentieth trip around the sun, my daughter
    Happy Birthdays wave at you, across the country
    To your window seat on the nation's capitol
    Where you are roaming and wandering in the days
    Of your youth, and here I try on the shoes of my echoing feet,
    As the day that changed me forever is celebrated
    By my first child.

    IMG_0900.JPG by you.
    Cool waters

    When your dad tells the tale, he says you "drank a little water"
    At Carla's pool and "gave up swimming for a few years."
    I recall you on the bottom needing to be hauled up
    Completely unseen there, and just two years old.
    There seems to be that kind of difference in our parent
    Learning to swim memories.
    That difference is hard on you, I know.
    But I do remember you swimming with joy when you were
    Invited to a pool party with some happy dancers and your first dance
    Teacher in Salinas, (and I remember a hauling of
    Another boy child out of the pool, not a dissimilar story
    When he was seen, just there, on the bottom.
    But I was also trying to kind of keep you focused elsewhere.)
    The parents were having wine coolers. I wasn't.
    Never could ignore the kids running around a pool.

    Do you remember the frog in the pool in Temecula?
    The one my mom decided to go get thinking she could save him?
    Then she got too cold and had trouble getting out of the pool?
    She said to me later, (that water was probably 75 degrees that day in the winter)
    She said she probably hadn't been in a pool since she was a kid
    Did they have pools when she was a kid, no seriously, I asked her that?
    I never saw her swim or get in water, even at the beach
    I don't think it even saved the frog. I think I had to fish him out,
    Later with that net thing we used to have.
    I loved that we had a pool if only for awhile though.
    Pools were both fun and just a little bit representative
    Of how I drive you, my daughter, a bit crazy.
    You want to say, go, enjoy, try things, swim child
    And then you turn around thinking about that day when.....

    It's a good thing your Dad can ameliorate this with his versions.



    135-3551_IMG.JPG by you.


    Harriet Potter

    Even though
    I want to say
    You are so Hermione
    here in my flash of memory,
    Of life after we moved again
    You look
    so cute
    You did the costume
    just right
    I always think
    of how I sent Luca
    To school
    In the right wing
    of Temecula
    before this move,
    Unknowing

    As Harry Potter

    So cute in his plastic
    Glasses
    With an Owl on his
    Shoulder
    And he was sent home
    For
    Indoctrination
    "There will be no Potter here"
    While three fully
    Sprouted devils
    Were cheered
    As was dracula.
    Welcome to our school

    Who knew?

    You were incredible
    As your heroine
    Fully ready to go off
    To your world of
    School
    just like
    That Hogwarts's

    I knew
    when you saw,
    Cal-tech,
    With those students
    building that
    hot-tub
    In that room,
    A bedroom
    no less,

    You'd found your
    equivalent
    castle.

    DSC06296 by you.



    IMG_0867.JPG by you.

    Portrait

    Why is it in water
    the best portraits are framed?

    Do we crawl still from watery
    depths onto land to grow our legs and swim?

    What joy is floating and swimming
    on a summers day in returning home?

    How is it that the greatest adventure
    for our children come in our pools learning to sail?

    When I wonder of our time together,
    will it be held in a droplet, pool, or an ocean?

    IMG_3474.JPG by you.
    And I was the Official Photographer

    You've seen them at the games
    Or covering an event
    With a camera and a silent watching.
    This was how too much I went
    Once I got a better camera,

    In our days
    afraid to let
    Anything get by
    Afraid for missing the moment
    That best said
    It all.

    Like these.


    101-0158_IMG.JPG by you.

    Toujours Gai

    Were you dressing for a food day
    In French class?
    Or International food day
    Was this when we made the cream puffs?
    Did we make cream puffs?
    Ok did grandmom make cream puffs?
    I think we made cream puffs
    And used canned chocolate sauce.
    Sent in the can.
    Or was this trying on a present from a relative time
    So we could make a picture album?
    Were you writing a report
    As a young American in Paris?

    I forget, it's vague, but I remember the chapeau
    That you have on here Syl
    It was one I wore daily en college
    Recall us in the kitchen too,
    Can see pictures mentally
    With different color backgrounds
    As the best days, the days of energy and love.
    I recall in images.
    But lost in the haze was
    What trip we were on
    In that time of our life.
    I was sitting in the alcove
    And inputting some kind of school data I think

    You were so much the little
    Happy one that
    Seemed to me Le Petite french girl
    Ah, Sylvie, tout le Monde is not
    So fair of face, but in your heart
    I always see the world.



    106-0687_IMG.JPG by you.
    108-0870_IMG.JPG by you.


    I have a student this year
    She kind of tilts her head
    In a familiar way
    Wearing her glasses
    Trying to find my line
    Happily going in with her class
    I'm reminded by that tilt
    Of my daughter.


    111-1157_IMG.JPG by you.



    Butterfly


    She made a chart for my class and taught the stages
    The life-cycle of the butterfly
    In a unit where we made books
    Designed lots of connections in science and literature
    And unraveled the joy of spring
    Coming to this good Earth again


    syleye1.jpg by you.

    Your Face
    You learn the face of your child like no other face
    It is probably the most beautiful thing you ever know
    The eyes, smile, feelings, joys, sadness
    All are like your home
    So much of your being rests there.

    I know a face that has given me so much joy
    Wonder, amusement,
    Times I'm utterly not sure what to say or do
    Challenged me into questioning everything I do
    One I have been so blessed to have beheld.

    sylviaportrait.jpg by you.
    103-0358_IMG.JPG by you.

    A Poem About Dad And You

    A poem about a father
    should be written by daughter and dad
    Told in the actions of their days
    Footballs tossed
    Charades
    Running wildly through the livingroom
    Tackles
    And sitting to watch the game
    Or snuggled up napping.

    A story of support
    And care for a kid
    That knew he had the answers
    To her questions, mostly
    The first thing I can remember
    About School is
    you both doing a report
    One night when you woke up
    In your top bunk
    Recalling a butterfly report
    Due the next day
    As I slept on.
    I hear your Dad
    and you
    Typing away, Monarchs,
    As he got it done.
    And you got it done
    With references.
    ( He says he waited
    To see what grade he got)

    Or that big chart listing
    all the colleges you applied to
    And eventually got into
    As your Dad
    Got the job done
    Or sitting watching all of you
    Play out on the sand
    Or on bikes
    skates,
    Ramps
    Or over in the grass a game of ball
    Those days of being with
    Your father
    Were the ones I see now thinking of you both
    Your Dad getting things done.



    IMG_3845.JPG by you.

    Sophia With An Orange Ball

    When she bowls your sister makes me think of something so absurd
    A marshmallow trying to hold up to an onslaught of graham crackers
    But if you have to bowl, orange is definitely the way to go.

    The day she chose this lovely matching 50 pound thing to spin
    Into gutters and crawl its way toward those pins it sat
    And chatted with them instead hanging around sharing
    News of how things were going up by the shoes
    Telling of what was hot on the grill today.

    Sophia has such a gentle turn of wrist that one often wonders watching
    If perhaps she may accidentally leave the ball
    There on the line and instead slip herself down
    The alley to knock away the standing guard.

    IMG_3191 by you.

    It was All About The Sun

    There was a light that day
    That came through the skylight
    Illuminating the stairs
    The three of you
    Decided to allow me to film
    So I caught it flickering
    Over a boy
    Torturing two sisters
    With every act of goofiness
    His 12 year old mind
    Could produce.

    DSC06284 by you.

    We Would Like The Filet

    Dad proudly tells everyone
    "She's no cheap date."
    Ordering you a filet, with a joy about it
    Making me laugh
    The girl who ate only meat
    The first twenty years
    Pork chops, chicken, steaks,
    Roasts, burgers, meatballs,
    Broiled, fried, roasted
    We've grilled and watched
    You enjoy the delights of the carnivores.

    DSC06288 by you.

    DSC06354 by you.

    Concerts

    There have been concerts, festivals, music, shows
    You have bowed a cello, played a sax,
    Blown a horn, piped a piccolo
    Marched with a flute, drumed a kit
    Tingled a triangle, gonged, hauled, assisted
    Marking your childhood with jazz, classical, standards
    Chorales, at Christmas Concerts, Spring Medleys
    And I've enjoyed each show as if I could hear only you
    Above the rest, Sylvia, hear that I say
    She's the one coming in right now
    But I missed Carnegie Hall, how could I?
    Guitar, I forgot guitar, that ties you to your Dad.
    I hope that you find a way to keep this musical
    You. Sylvical.


    DSC08416 by you.

    Look it's the future
    Burning brightly
    There beyond us
    Waiting for you
    With possibility
    Problem
    Hope and hurrah's
    Every parent sees it in their
    Child
    Look carefully
    You'll see it too.
    DSC06382 by you.

    Thank you
    Thank you for the cheer
    Thank you for the affirming
    Thank you for days in sandboxes
    Thank you for those tiny glasses
    Thank you for all the books I loved, you loved
    Thank you for the many hours listening
    Thank you for little meaty bites
    Thank you for a few secrets kept
    Thank you for the wearing my hats
    Thank you for all the work you did
    Thank you for the wonder
    Thank you for the best days of a life.

    101-0104_IMG.JPG by you.
    100-0088_IMG.JPG by you.


    Christmases

    Some say that Santa is a great lie
    We bring to our children
    So I'm a liar but the thing
    That made it wonderful was
    Knowing that you'd wake up
    Finding all that treasure
    To enjoy.

    107-0799_IMG.JPG by you.



    DSC06306 by you.

    And she is saying "Can you believe she's taking another picture?"
    And he is saying, "She's just trying to save time, just make it nice."
    And that cracks everyone up because
    A certain someone's not in this picture and she's
    Just said something about how they've had it with the camera,
    But what I was trying to capture, I did.
    The love you had for one another.
    124-2401_IMG.JPG by you.


    The Rites

    Of passage bring the girl
    Into her own
    To look out
    On the world
    Beautiful
    And intelligent
    Gracing her day
    with a gentle presence
    My child
    Became a woman
    Wrapped up
    In the
    Costume of
    The lady
    Going out to
    Dance
    And hold a hand.


    104-0450_IMG.JPG by you.

    Pistachio

    She loves pistachio
    But not gazpacho
    She's big on pumpkin
    (It's orange, you bumpkin)
    She'll order something almond
    Over a fancy diamond
    Passes on fruits
    Preferring chocoloot
    Bubblegum hits her tum
    She always said it was so awesome
    Ice cream days
    Are lost in haze
    But Sylvia enjoyed her cones
    Almost as much as her bones.

    ( I'm getting punchy)

    DSC06221 by you.
    103-0354_IMG.JPG by you.
    102-0266_IMG.JPG by you.
    103-0355_IMG.JPG by you.
    103-0360_IMG.JPG by you.
    123-2364_IMG.JPG by you.
    kidbeach2.jpg by you.
    123-2348_IMG.JPG by you.

    The Big Hole
    (He called a Sandcastle)

    One of my earliest memories as a mom was the time
    we went to the Beach with you as a baby
    In Monterey over towards Marina, and you ate a little sand
    Seemingly unperturbed by it with your dad finally laughing
    About how every time we looked up you'd be face down.
    We were such good parents we just set you back up
    And off you'd crawl and be over and gritty in that hat.
    Then there was the time we all met on a beach in Carmel
    Tons of us, digging the deepest hole ever attempted
    As I sat feeling sick that day, watching the baby
    Laughing as you all approached China and we won a contest
    Getting a cute wooden plaque, with a shell glue gunned on it
    Our award for most something in the sandcastle building
    We raised you at the water, by the beach, in sand
    In San Diego, Monterey, Hueneme and up and down the coast
    Of California.

    The first thing you do when you go
    Is say that you are going to build a sandcastle
    And then you start digging deep holes
    With lots and lots of buckets of sand being thrown into the air,
    Not on the blanket I've said it a million times Luca.
    Right at the waters edge because if you've timed it right
    The tide will come in and turn this into a mighty
    Thing your dad calls "a fort," now as you turn to face the onslaught
    Sometimes you like to dig the tunnels away from this
    Through the sand, I forget exactly why, I never got the concepts
    But then action comes by carrying the hundreds of buckets
    To watch the water run away
    Down the ditches, through the channel and back to the sea

    If you are raising a child an ocean is a mighty place
    To find metaphors and meanings
    Fun and days within the sun rotating around, taking you
    The tides coming and going, you coming and going,
    As you revolve again around the sun
    An ocean can mark your happiest days
    The relaxing, the currents of your thinking, marking time
    It can wash away sorrows or listen to your agonies
    The ocean can celebrate your finding a clutch of ducks
    Even if no one will let you take them home
    And an ocean can be the place you go
    On your daughter's birthday to shout out
    As wide as this is, as deep, as mysterious as it all is
    Beautiful, and the life of our planet, I love you
    More than these waves can ever know.
    Happy Birthday!

    105-0514_IMG.JPG by you.
    114-1407_IMG.JPG by you.
    DSC06163 by you.
    DSC04536 by you.
    IMG_0268.JPG by you.
    IMG_0370.JPG by you.

    2

    View comments

Total Pageviews
Total Pageviews
4 1 9 3 5 5
My Blog List
My Blog List
Blog Archive
About Me
About Me
My Photo
I'm a public school elementary teacher from W.V. beginning my career in poverty schools in the 1980's. (I have GIST cancer-small intestinal and syringomyelia which isn't what I want to define me but does help define how I view the meaning of my life.) I am a mom of 3 great children-now grown. I teach 3rd grade in an Underperforming school, teaching mostly immigrant 2nd Lang. children. I majored in art, as well as teaching. Art informs all I do. Teaching is a driving part of my life energy. But I am turning to art soon. I'm married to an artist I coaxed into teaching- now a Superintendent of one of the bigger Districts in the area. Similar population. We both have dedicated inordinate amounts of our life to the field of teaching in areas of poverty hoping to give students opportunities to make better lives. I'm trying to write as I can to the issues of PUBLIC education , trying to gain the sophistication to address the issues in written forms so they can be understood from my teaching contexts.I like to blog from daily experiences. My work is my own, not reflective of any school district.
Loading
smpuglisi. Dynamic Views theme. Powered by Blogger.