In response to an essay written by a Florida teacher, we were encouraged to write a similar piece. I will never be wealthy enough to impact governmental policy.

Today was another day of writing, reading, blogging, thinking, and reflecting. I reported on another of her books.

Sure, there are occasions when grammar is secondary, such as when writing text messages, poetry, scripts and other forms of creative writing. But, for the most part following grammatical rules is non-negotiable. It may also be a matter of life and death.

I imagine I will continue to think about what I learned and the people I met at the Institute for weeks to come. Ideas for Music for Younger Grades. I have a couple of ideas for music those of you who teach younger grades.

I have long been a teacher, though I it took me some time to realize I was in the job.

Writing from the heart, sharing from the heart. How fun this morning log was and we learned that Pam can sing, as well as write! We had our writing groups first thing when we first came into the classroom and we also shared pieces we had been writing with our colleagues. I shared my piece entitled.

Language is like a tree. It varies in type, depth, and extent. It changes with season, mood, and location. It requires basic necessities to thrive and grow. It can adapt with its surroundings, changing to meet needs or dying out and becoming extinct. I really enjoyed the writing activity we did today during our technology hour. I love that the writing prompt was started for us in simile style, and we were given time to f.

I just really found myself excited about the possibilities for this idea in my classroom. When I think of writer, I do envision the author in the basement working for twelve to sixteen hours on his novel.

I have every intention of posting here on a daily basis; however, I have been. Pretty lame excuse, huh? I was wondering, while sitting in a meeting, where the documentary crew might be. Seriously, someone has got to get this on video. Have his people call my people.

Y viajo de abajo hacia arriba. Buscando lo que poseo adentro. Recorro la orilla del mar. Y no sé cómo descansar. Me canso de lo que es. Busco lo nuevo y extraño.