Still Life

Last week I covered a photography class. They were to read this article and then photograph the items that the article listed. Then they were to watch a video on symbolism, likely to help them arrange their still life images. In case you want to take a look at the video: 

So, why am I telling you all this? Because embedded in the Google Classroom for the class was a link I'd like to save. For me. And the easiest way to do it is to put it someplace I'll find it again. 

Apparently, they've been taking pictures using their phones. When school is in person, they can check out cameras to use. At home, that's harder. (They only have a set number of cameras, so when at school, they work in teams.)

And the link I want to save is for converting HEIC (the format that iPhones now use) to JPEG (the format I need if I want to use the images anywhere else, like this blog). I had been using them via Google Photos. I'm not sure which is easier, but I like having the choice. 

There. Now I can find that link again, even though I did bookmark it. (I never look at my bookmarks. I forget they're there.)

Silent Third

Last week I covered a photography class. They were to read an article on still life and respond to it before taking still life pictures. The teacher had set up a kind of comment page (on something called Padlet) for them to list three things they learned as well as comment on fellow students' lists. 

(Since they can't have a discussion due to the distance thing, this is the next best way to have students communicate with each other.) 

Everything went well first period. At the end of third period, I checked the Padlet page only to find that none of the students had made their comments. Before I dismissed the class, I reminded them that they needed to create posts so that their peers could comment. 

Fifth period. Since things went sideways third, I made sure to start with telling period five about the commenting thing. 

A few minutes later, a student alerted me to a problem. 

For the students to add their comment to the page, they needed to "add a comment" using a plus sign button. The students in period five told me they didn't have that button. 

Upon further investigation, I discovered that the same issue happened to period three. In fact, only one class, period one, had the button to add a comment. 

Deep sigh. 

I won't go into the mess that ensued when I attempted to contact their teacher to let her know. (I'm still rather irked over the incident.) Suffice it to say that the issue never did get fixed. 

But period three... *shakes head* Not a one of them piped up to let me know that there was a problem. 

Usually, there's someone who will chime in with "there's a problem here". At which point I can troubleshoot, or at the very least, let their teacher know that they couldn't complete something due to a technical issue.

Of course, there are some classes that are just quiet. They keep their heads down and don't comment on anything. 

I suppose period three was one of those. If we were in person, they'd probably be the "best" class of the day only to later discover that not a one of them had done any work. 

Missing Third

Last Tuesday morning I was called to cover a photography class. As we're doing things virtually, that means I roll out of bed and then log in.

The school sends me an invitation to join the Google Classroom classes. I logged into the four classes and perused the lesson plan.

Four classes? I should have five.

I verified that the teacher did, in fact, have a full schedule. (Some teachers don't.) I then emailed the school to let them know I was missing a class. 

I started first period.

The class I was missing was immediately after first period. (We're on a block schedule, so we go periods 1-3-5 one day and periods 2-4-6 the next.) But the staff is busy, so I wasn't concerned right away. I got first period going with instructions and attendance and such. 

Halfway into the period, I still had no response. Time for a follow up email. 

I got a response that time. The secretary's email said she was having technical difficulties, and did I get the invitation that time? 

Technical difficulties? You don't say...

If I didn't have technical difficulty posts, this blog would have been blank for weeks. 

Luckily the invitation went through, and I was good to go in time for the class. 

Of course, that wasn't the only technical difficulty I had this week, but that's another post.

Impending Doom

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

Last week's question wasn't read in the way I intended it. That's not really a problem. I want questions to be interpreted differently by different people. But last week everyone got bogged down in the how rather than the what, so this week I'm going to try the question again. Hopefully this time the focus will be where I had hoped it would be.

What if you learned that something terrible was coming (either coming for you or coming your way)? (The how you learn this is unimportant. Only, the source of this knowledge is trustworthy, so this impending doom is coming.)

A Bit of a Surprise

Remember last week how I went and picked up an old project?

When I started the thing, back in 2013, the intent was to knit myself a lightweight cardigan. Instead of finding a sweater pattern, I found a stitch pattern I liked, and I decided to wing it. I know roughly how a sweater is constructed. I've knit sweaters in the past. 

I swatched. I found my gauge. I figured how many stitches I'd need to cast on to make it sized for me. And then I cast on. 

I figured it'd be a couple months, and then I'd have to figure out how I was going to attach sleeves. 

Seven years pass... 

So, a couple weeks ago, I found myself between knitting projects. And I remembered the cardigan. I figured I could knit a few rows on the thing until something else catches my interest. 

Only, a funny thing happened on Tuesday or Wednesday. I looked at how long the thing was, and I wondered. I pulled out a t-shirt for comparison, and yep, I'm just about there. It's almost long enough to need to figure out the sleeve portion of the project. 

Suddenly my sweater is looking like it might get finished. 

I haven't bound off for sleeves yet, but I'm close enough that it was time to do some calculations. I actually have a sleeve plan. Barring any weird distractions, I should be ready to get the sleeves started this coming week.

The picture of the thing doesn't look much different than last week. I completed about half a pattern repeat.

But, in an experimental mood, I tried filming myself knitting. (I'm planning to film some videos of me making stuff. Figuring it all out is turning out to be more complicated than I expected. So, baby steps.) 

Remember a couple months ago when I tried to post the videos I had made of my lip balm holders? It seems that the only solution to getting videos to upload and embed is to upload them to YouTube. I guess this means I started a YouTube channel.

Well, hopefully it works...

There is no sound. I'm knitting one pattern repeat on row three of the pattern. It's slow. I'm a more confident knitter, really, but dealing with having the camera set up slowed me down. 

It was a first attempt. I'll figure out how to set it all up eventually.

Fully Asleep

Friday. Special ed math. More of them had their cameras on than is usual for me. Some of the kiddos were bouncy. One boy had his father walking around in the background. And a couple of them had one-on-one aides with them. 

Cannon logged in. I noted that his camera was on its side, so while Cannon's head was oriented up and down, it was obvious he was lying down. 

And. . . His eyes were closed? Yeah, his eyes were closed.

After a bit of time passed, Cannon placed something over his camera. And I heard nothing from him all period. 

Ahem. If you were to tell me that some students slept through class, I would not be surprised. I'm sure some of them are. But they make sure their cameras are turned off. 

Because, seriously? If you're going to sleep in class, the least you can do is not make it obvious. 

Busy

A lot of this distance learning thing consists of me staring at a computer screen with boxes of avatars and student names. When the students have their cameras off, all I see is their avatar. 

I leave my camera on, but I have an avatar of my own:

So, I find ways to entertain myself. One of the things I planned to do last week was come up with some questions for my "what if?' posts on Tuesdays. 

But I really should know better. . .

Friday. I had a special ed math class. And they had a review assignment. 

More of them actually had their cameras on. And they responded when I greeted them. 

I explained the assignment. I offered my assistance if they got stuck. Then I had them get to work. 

And they took me up on my offer of assistance. 

It was nice. I actually got to do some teaching. I ended up going over the same thing over and over. It's a bit of a challenge to explain things through a computer screen, but I do have a few tools at my disposal. 

I was actually busy. 

I answered questions right up until the end of the period. One class was dealing with inequalities while the other two were working on fractions, decimals, and percents. These are challenging for all students, so it wasn't a shock that they needed help.

I really should know better. Never make plans to work on something else during class time. Those are the days when I don't have the time.