Hatin' on Howard

I teach in Baltimore County, considered by many to be the consolation prize to teaching in Howard County.  Many families prefer Howard County as well, paying more in property taxes for schools that come with a slightly better reputation.

I'm very proud to teach in Baltimore County, and I'm especially proud of my high school and its feeder schools.  Understandably, I get a little defensive when people imply that Howard County Schools are in any way superior.  So I felt somewhat vindicated about a week ago when I left a Speech tournament at a Howard County high school and saw this sign at the middle school across the street:

I don't know if I would trust a conferenc with one of their teachrs.  It also didn't help Howard County's case that the house across the street was proudly waving not one, but two, Confederate flags.

Our Christmas Conundrum

The longer we live in Maryland, the more I feel torn between two homes.  Never is that more evident than at Christmas.  Matt and I have spent the last few Christmas mornings in our own house, which is wonderful.  All the while, however, we find ourselves missing our friends and families back in Minnesota.

In other words, part of us sings "Crabs for Christmas"


...while the other part sings "Rusty Chevrolet"


We are a people torn between two Christmases.

For the Glory of the Corn

When Matt was in college, he and his Fargo college friends used cans of corn as wagering currency.  It was more fun than just betting a quarter on something.  One of them would make an outlandish claim, and another would simply say, "Can of corn!"

So it made sense when we first moved to Maryland (and brought Matt's family's Thanksgiving bowling tradition with us) that we would also incorporate the can-of-corn wager.  Since I first wrote about this tradition, the illustrious can of corn trophy has passed hands five times. 

This year, the now-expired (and likely botulism-laced) can was won by an exuberant Kris:

...which meant that Austin, last year's winner, had the humiliating duty of handing it off.

It's a good thing we don't take these silly traditions too seriously.

"We got cabin fever..."

After what seems like days stuck in the house, I've run out of things to clean, I feel like I've read everything (though it's only been two or three books), and I've had this earwig of a song running through my head:



It's no wonder that we can't go anywhere. Our region just isn't equipped to remove this kind of snow (of course, as I say this, Matt is out driving to "test the roads"). These are some images from the most recent blizzard, which added a foot or so to the snow piles that were already on the ground:


Perhaps because we're eternal optimists (or, perhaps because, like all native Minnesotans, we're more than a little masochistic), Matt and I are still taking time to enjoy the winter wonderland.

We could grumble about how much taxpayer money is being lost while the federal government is in a state of emergency (not taking into account the energy being saved and the telecommuters who are still working...but I digress), but we're perfectly content to make the most of these days off. We also know that fewer Marylanders on the road is never a bad thing.

A Blizzard in Pictures: before, during and after

Snowstorms in Maryland always make Matt and me laugh. We've realized that we're snow snobs, and we love watching the ridiculous ways our adopted homeland prepares for and deals with snow. This most recent blizzard was no exception.

Before...

All local stores were cleared out of milk, butter, eggs (the clerk was using a dustbuster on the empty shelves)...
...and bread:
This was a good 24 hours before the first snowflake appeared. We like to watch Marylanders freak out when the stores are out of dairy products and bread. They get angry at the stores and their fellow shoppers (including those jerks from Minnesota in the next aisle, laughing at them).

During...

While the snow falls, we feel like we're back in Minnesota. The muffled silence of a new snowfall reminds me of sitting in my front yard in my snowsuit.

Strange as it may seem, Matt and I really miss the snow. I bought this snowflake for our kitchen window when we first moved here to remind me of winters at home. I haven't needed it much this year.

We've had a great time playing in this most recent snow. We did some modified sledding and buried each other in the snow in our parking lot. I buried Matt up to his neck while a plow was driving by (nowhere near his head; safety first). "You might not want to stay there," the driver said. "Oh, really?" Matt asked. It's hard to be a sarcastic snow snob when just your head is sticking out of a 30-inch pile of snow.

Matt also built a snow fort for Barley. Right, Matt. "For Barley."

Barley was not nearly as excited by the snow as we were (and he was terrified of the fort). When over two feet of snow falls all over your bathroom, life is not easy.

Fortunately for us, Barley is always cute, even when wrestling with the elements:



After...

Once the snow has fallen, we get a you're-not-in-the-Midwest-anymore reality shock. I've often said that Maryland employs the "wait until it melts" method of snow removal. It's cute at first (and it's an added bonus when one Minnesota snow day becomes a week off of school), but it gets old in a hurry when roads are left unpaved and mammoth snow piles fill half the parking lots.

Our own neighborhood has been only partially cleaned. Snowplows don't clean back roads here like they do in the Great White North. The mayor of Baltimore even urged residents to clean their own roads with their shovels and snowblowers. The result is an extremely bumpy (not to mention hazardous) ride home:


As I write this, another winter storm is headed our way. Poor Maryland. I love you, but you're no Minnesota.

Snowtopia

The Baltimore area was hit with a blizzard this weekend. For those of us from a naturally snowy climate, it was like a small taste of home. In fact, I think there may even be more snow on the ground in Maryland than in Minnesota.

The entire area shut down for the entire weekend, and we were out of school today. Here's just a glimpse of what our neighborhood looks like (we haven't ventured much farther than that):


And, of course, a video of Barley trying to run/hop through the snow:

Opposite Day at Camden Yards

The Twins were in town last Thursday, so we assembled much of our little immigrant community and headed to the game. We bought $45 tickets from a scalper for $15, then sneaked into the bleacher section anyway: opposite day.

Sadly, the Twins lost both of the mere two games they're playing in Baltimore this year, but we still had a great time at the ballpark:


Note all the jalapeños, which made for a particularly rough Friday morning:

"They're still good."

Matt is still laughing about this sign:

It's sad how few Twins players I know now. I'll learn all their names by the post-season, I swear.

And, of course, the obligatory usher picture for my dad. This man didn't care that he was in the bleachers. He was in charge, and we knew it.

After the game, we headed to Pickles, where Matt warmed up his cornhole skills. Little did he know how soon they would come in handy! More on that in a later post. Stay tuned.

More little shoes

Not long ago, I posted about one of my favorite stores in Baltimore. I went in last weekend intending only to buy some of their yummy chocolate (they have a white chocolate one with black olives that's to die for), but I came out with another fabulous pair of shoes...along with the chocolate bar.

I've had my eye on this pair since I started going to Ma Petite Shoe, and they were on uber clearance last weekend. At over 80% off, I would have been a fool not to buy them. Welcome to the family, my beautiful new El Naturalistas. You'll like it here.

My Little Shoes

One of my favorite stores in Baltimore is Ma Petite Shoe, a wonderful hybrid of shoes and chocolate. Aside from the delightful play on words ("mon petit chou" is a French expression which literally means "my little cabbage," but is a term of endearment), Ma Petite Shoe has some of the cutest shoes I've ever seen.

They're a tad pricy, so I only have one pair of Ma Petite Shoes (for now!), but I get compliments on them every time I wear them. It's a shame that a mere photo can't do them justice.

Cold comforts of home

My friend Mindy came over the other night. She had to hurry inside because it was "so freezing" outside. We figured it was about 15 degrees. We talked about how cold it was back in Minnesota and Wisconsin. "Why do we miss those places?" Mindy asked.

Yesterday morning, a few girls in my first period were complaining about how cold it was outside and how cold my room was. It was around 10 degrees outside, and it takes a few bodies to warm up an old classroom, so, yes, it was cold. I told them how cold it was in Minnesota. "Why do you want to move back there?" they asked.

Then, yesterday afternoon, my friend Jessica (also an escapee from the bitter Minnesota winters) sent me this video:


21 below? Really? That's the air temperature! This dude isn't even wearing a hat! Although hammering with produce and calling it a "bammer" may have been a questionable choice for national television, this dude is proud of how cold his home state is. He's embracing the cold and, by God, it's embracing him.

This last week, Anna wrote about how cold it is, too. In Minnesota, life doesn't stop because it's cold. Minnesotans don't make a run on milk and bread when there are snow flurries in the sky. They're tough people who not only get out of bed when it's colder than the Arctic, but also find clever ways to multitask with fruit and get their butts to the gym.

Mindy, this is why we miss that place.

Kids, this is why I want to move back there.

Any Given Sunday

No, it's not just a movie with foul language and full-frontal male nudity. It never ceases to amaze me how crazy, out-of-the-ordinary things are completely commonplace in Baltimore. For example, I saw these things just this morning:

• A stylish gentleman in a three-piece lavender suit, complete with a plaid jacket. Rebecca tells me that plaid is the new black.
• Pirates swinging from the mast of a pirate ship in the Inner Harbor. I wasn't bothered until a few of the children tried to spray me with Harbor water. They find dead bodies in that water, you know.
• A fabulously flamboyant gay man who insisted that I take 20% off my entire Barnes and Noble purchase, because my APA stylebook was "way too expensive." He scanned it and said, "Oh, no way. Are you serious? That much? For this? No way am I letting you pay that." Jill always says that I'm a gay man trapped in a straight woman's body, so he must have sensed a kindrid spirit.
  
• A rather large woman with a t-shirt that read, "I used to skinny dip. Now I chunky dunk."
  

Just another Sunday in Baltimore.