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Breathing Ghosts


This morning Baltimore woke to a damp, warm fog. My son and I drove to school through it, switching as always between his favorite two pop stations. At some point, after the Party Rock Anthem played for the bajillionth time this month, the morning DJ mentioned the fog. It felt like breathing ghosts, he said.

Breathing ghosts! William Faulkner himself could not have described it better.

The fog has vanished now, leaving behind the regular outlines of a world that is, I am once again reminded, full of poets.

That Cytoplasm Needs More Vanilla

cell tart

GENIE WISHES follows a group of kids through fifth grade. Like kids in schools everywhere, these fifth graders have projects to complete, everything from constructing bridges out of toothpicks to wrapping holiday gifts for homeless kids.

This week, the students in my son's seventh-grade science class had to build a model of an animal cell using any materials they wanted. Edible materials were a popular choice, of course. The photo above shows my son with his finished animal cell--a tart made from scratch. The pineapple ring is the nucleus, a strawberry the nucleolus, some kiwi bits the Golgi body, and so on.

I didn't get to taste the tart before it left for school, but I tried the leftover cytoplasm. It was delicious.


Fledgling Post


Fledgling owls for a fledgling post...

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