The Writing on the Wall

Today, I joined my daughter's mixed-age 4th & 5th grade class on a walking field trip to the Baltimore School for the Arts where they toured arts classrooms and studios and were greeted with a small gallery of student artwork as exposure and an opportunity to treat their community as a learning classroom. Pleased with the great weather spent out walking, I take leave of the class to begin 'storytelling' to pass their final 45 minutes of the school day. As I unlock my bike to begin my downhill trip home, I spy the following graffiti on the wall:

It's easy to feel good about my kids' educational environment when this is the writing on the wall.

Baltimore City Public Schools: Subvert reality!

Neighbors

Last October, at the beginning of my renovation, I had a rose plant growing wildly out of a rusting, antique, iron tub in the "backyard." Charles and Carroll truncated its gangly offshoots and placed it in a plastic 5-gallon bucket. It looked so abbreviated from its original untended splendour. "It's alive, Rolla!" they assure me.

Undoubtedly, this spring, shoots grew from the stubbed branches and I was gifted 3 perfect blooms...

In keeping with prior experiences of Frantz's gorgeous bulbs planted in the flower box he built, and testament to the selfish nature of our current society, beautiful blooms are never allowed to be shared with all who walk by. Within three days, each of my three blooms were taken. Snip. by. Snip.