My Sicilian grandmother was just over five feet tall, like me. She had thick brown hair and olive skin, like me, and she wore a ring on almost every finger.
"Mangia! Buon appetito!" she'd say, setting down an antipasto platter, a plate of warm arancini, or a slice of spaghetti pie made from leftovers.
Last week, a neighbor three doors down invited our dog, Rory over for a dog play date. While Rory and Red chased each other in a loop around the backyard, we admired the garden—azaleas, forsythias, pink flowering almond, and blue phlox. Hasta, wild violets, Japanese water iris, an old dogwood tree, and a large weeping willow in the middle of the backyard.
I've been reading The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman. The book is about making decisions and creating space for your soul to breathe and I don't know about you, but I can always use the reminder that my soul needs to breathe.
Here's something you may not know about me: I love pizza. It's been my favorite food since I was 5, as illustrated in a construction-paper preschool project about my favorite things (macaroni and cheese was a strong contender).
We've learned a lot from pizza nights, but we're still tweaking our process. This is true for our teaching practice, as well. We're always experimenting, evaluating, and studying the outcomes.
