Ms. Fleemer, my seventh-grade English teacher, was so old enough she taught my mother, 43 years before me. Ms. Fleemer believed in rote memorization and loved nothing more than a good bracing recitation of all the prepositions, in order, which I sweated and ground my teeth over but can still say: About above across after against along around amid among at….
I don’t know if we’ve lost something by taking memorization out of the curriculum, but I do know Ms. Fleemer would love having this kid in her class over me any day of the week.
On Sunday Mrs. Churm and I took Starbuck and Wolfie to Cub Scout Field Day, where there were ranges for air rifles, bows & arrows, and slingshots, as well as track events, a mobile fire safety house, and spongy tan hot dogs. I helped five-year old Wolfie draw and aim the kid-sized compound bow; when the arrow flew it left its damaged plastic fletching buried deep in my guide finger. After a tetanus shot, antibiotics, and two doctors visits, I’m ready to hear more about the “Dad Life.” Check it.
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