What did you do to my pancake!?

This is the hundredth time I mention pancakes. If my blog search worked (which it doesn't, for good reason), it would probably have found more mention of pancakes than any other word in my vocabulary.

I am still supply teaching for the colleague of mine who is now confirmed to be out of comission for a few more weeks. She teaches home economics. Which means that ***PANCAKE*** is to be one of the things the students learn to cook.

So I doubled the recipe for "six 4 inch pancakes" to make enough per group of students to sample them. In my typographical haste, I neglected to include small, inoccuous words in the recipe (like "take a bowl" or "use a whisk to beat the egg first before sticking everything in haphazardly like fools") so there was much chaos and insanity. And this was just making the batter over one period.

It was a pity, in fact, that they were not cooking the pancakes during the same class. One group had a disastrous batter that was discovered only after tasting gobs of (unsuccessfully flipped) pancake. After they shed laughter-induced tears and ended their somewhat nauseating episodes with the garbage bin, I asked them what the matter was.

"Oh, it's salty."

I took a crumb and put it in my mouth. If I could go back in time, I would probably have burned it into cinders with my fiery revenge of pancake anguish. Not only was it salty beyond belief, but it was also dripping with oil. The scarred "non-stick" frying pan laid in ruination on the stovetop, disgusted with itself. (I should really throw that thing out.)

"Um... add some sugar." With the rest of the batter, they added in syrup (which didn't do much). It was also recommended that they added more oil (which turned out to be an even worse idea). Anyway, I will give them due credit despite their sad, sad, sad pancake.

Drive like a Granny

For the majority of the population in this country, driving a car anywhere is as big a deal as getting dressed, or drinking water, or picking your nose. Well, maybe not the last thing. I am nonetheless delighted (or completely naive) to have driven the car alone for the first time today. If you're reading this blog, it's probably safe to say:

a) you've been there, done that, a billion times ago, "Get over yourself,"
b) you're a hippy who believes that a driver's license is getting "too deep into the clammy grips of the man," or
c) you're Jorghnassen. :)

Anyway, my mum has been experiencing a really weird episode of "swollen face" for a week. She had been to the doctor, hoping it was an allergy to something she ate (which is probably right) but the doctor said it was "nothing." The next day after the visit, her face was so swollen that one of her eyes could barely open, so she couldn't go to work that day. So much for "nothing."

It has been pretty swollen for a week now, but it hasn't got much worse. Her eye was unable to open much today. Thus, after trying in vain to talk her into going to another doctor, I gave up and took the car for my own usage. Mwa ha ha ha! I drove alone to the mall and window shopped for three hours. Then I had a hard time getting out of the mall due to the car lineup from hell.

Now I know why people hate going to the mall.

Tiredzzzzz

6 hours a night isn't enough sleep. So I had 11 last night and went to school probably with less crankiness. Doesn't mean that I didn't blow my top again. Just not as often. Heh.

I really hope that the two weeks I took over for my colleague hasn't been wasted for the students. I did try my best to teach and guide what material I could muster and master at the last minute, and I would like to leave the students on a good note so they won't feel like they were stagnant in learning.

Chocolate Chip Pancakes

Do not attempt with crepe recipes.

What I like about my pancake recipe is that I can put any fruit or things in the batter and it will cook thick and fluffy, although the pancake will come out sort of moist and almost gooey in the middle depending on the wetness of the fruit. With chocolate chips though, the pancake will cook much faster, and rise to cover the gigantic blobs of chocolate almost completely. Thus, the pan won't be covered in chocolate goo after flipping and frying.

Crepes won't rise (at all) so if you plan on flipping them, the chocolate will make huge burnt chocolate spots on the crepe and it doesn't ooze like pancakes. Chocolate sauce is more appropriate for crepes.

Ponder Teaching

Read my lips, I'm not the one having the bloody problem, you demented teaching wackos. Two thoughts: I hate the argument that simply because teachers everywhere else have to face total crap means Quebec teachers have to face more crap as well; being the lowest paid to start teaching in the country, it means all the young teachers who aren't intent on staying here for abuse (*cough*) will go elsewhere and be treated (and paid) properly. Also, the BC teachers' strike isn't popular, but imagine the Quebec teachers going on strike too...

I never thought of teaching as a last-resort job. (Indeed, I had once written in an elementary school project that I had intended on becoming either "teacher or violinist.") To me, those who thought that the faculty of education was full of business school or arts student dropouts were terribly, terribly wrong. It's not *full* of them anyway...

Teaching is a very difficult job. The only problems I have are classroom management related, which is common with ~90% of my peers. I am perplexed whenever a student defies me, distracts everyone, or chooses not to work. And this happens all the freaking time. If I really was teaching because I had nothing else I could do, then I'd have dropped out the very first second they put me in the field experience. I know that I am far, far, far from being a competent teacher, but I know in my heart that wanting the vocation and not turning away from it at the very start had me set in the right direction. Who said their development had to be easy or come as second nature? It sounds like a bad anime cliché, but I'm working hard to become the best teacher I can be, no matter what others believe I can't do. (Locke!)

House Party!!!

My colleague and her husband (hi, Martin!) held a housewarming last Friday. I was quite happy to get out of my apartment, but most importantly I was quite excited to see this new house. What a house! Now I wish I had a house (right, Jorghnassen?). House was barely finished a month ago, painted and detailed, and now houses couple and cute, cute bunnies (right, Jorghnassen?). If Jorghnassen comes soon, I'll try to invite ourselves over for another housewarming call. In that case I would drive ourselves over (lOlZ!!!) to the house, as I haven't driven since Thanksgiving.

"House" was written 10 times. "Jorghnassen" 4 times. ;)

Miss, do you even know any music?

...or paraphrased in that manner. Anyway, subbing for my colleage involved conducting two different sets of brass/wind bands that consisted of highly questioning and/or defiant students of all levels. Fortunately, I have had experience conducting with our student choir at cegep (*snif* those were good times, good times). Unfortunately I have very sensitive ears.

But the questions in class were compounded with questioning my abilities. What to do, when half your class is staring at you and wondering if they should trust the non-music teacher to teach music?

So, following Scott's suggestion yesterday (which I will detail later), I went to school today with my violin. The kids didn't see it because I arrived early and hid it in the music room.

After another massively messy music manglement this morning, I had another 3 minutes before the class would shuffle off to their next class. So I calmly took out the violin, which caught the atteniont of a few curious students. The rest were starting to mill outside.

"Miss, play something!"

Ok. So I shakily played with the stiffest and least expressive wrist moments, the very basic of the basics, the Alphabet Song aka. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, or Ah! vous dirai-je maman. A few of them politely clapped, while half of the students wilted from disappointment.

Then I started Bach's double violin concerto, in virtuoso. But much, much, faster.

I don't think I've ever heard my class quiet down as quickly as it did, nor did it stay through the bell as mesmerized.

I must have caused a bit of a stir because the teachers during lunch were asking me about what happened that caused their students to stay in class voluntarily.

---

Scott's freak-out plan was similar to this experience. He was teaching a typing class at school, and the students were asking him if he could type.

"Oh, show me where I put my fingers."

They watched with great patience, as he tapped each letter probably at the rate of granny on Sudafed.

"Wait, let me try practice more." Tap... tap...

Egging them on, "Let's do a race then."

So the kids sat at the keyboard, ready to laugh him into the dust. Suddenly, Scott speeds through test after test, at ~61 wpm. The kids never questioned him after that.

Back in (In)Action!

In a series of odd consecutive events, I managed to work (for money) twice today. Unfortunately for my pang of guilt and consciousness, one was to replace my colleague at my school today because her back suddenly went out. I will also go tomorrow because she will be lying on her back unmoving, most probably. But overall I had a pretty good day and I did feel better for having darted back and forth, despite the tinge of envy I directed towards the newbies who occupy the jobs I would have been happy to take if I only had been grubbier.

Spent the whole day on it.

Happy Thanksgiving. Happy birthday, Jorghnassen! I think it's about time, don't you? :)

The rest will come at not as slow a rate.