PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE LETTER. teacher s guide for the development of learning programmes. teacher credential ca.
Parent Teacher Conference Letter
- A formal meeting for discussion
- A linking of several telephones or computers, so that each user may communicate with the others simultaneously
- a prearranged meeting for consultation or exchange of information or discussion (especially one with a formal agenda)
- league: an association of sports teams that organizes matches for its members
- A formal meeting that typically takes place over a number of days and involves people with a shared interest, esp. one held regularly by an association or organization
- a discussion among participants who have an agreed (serious) topic
- A person who teaches, esp. in a school
- a person whose occupation is teaching
- (teach) an English pirate who operated in the Caribbean and off the Atlantic coast of North America (died in 1718)
- a personified abstraction that teaches; “books were his teachers”; “experience is a demanding teacher”
- A forefather or ancestor
- an organism (plant or animal) from which younger ones are obtained
- An animal or plant from which younger ones are derived
- a father or mother; one who begets or one who gives birth to or nurtures and raises a child; a relative who plays the role of guardian
- A father or mother
- rear: bring up; “raise a family”; “bring up children”
- A written, typed, or printed communication, esp. one sent in an envelope by mail or messenger
- A school or college initial as a mark of proficiency, esp. in sports
- set down or print with letters
- win an athletic letter
- A character representing one or more of the sounds used in speech; any of the symbols of an alphabet
- a written message addressed to a person or organization; “mailed an indignant letter to the editor”
Service for one
Priority two, stop feeling guilty for things beyond my control. Like the rain for example. Not my fault. Though it did convince me of the wisdom of staying in on a Friday night. I was trying to convince myself to go out dancing, but I have too much work to do, and tickets to a choral concert tomorrow, and so…
Zany senior member of my department and I hijacked our work and took it on the road, planned on having sushi but were ultimately convinced by the gods of self indulgence to eat bacon instead. Yes. Not Pancetta, nothing fancy, just pure, good old fashioned bacon. (On a cheeseburger, of course.) I mitigated the guilt about things within my control by taking a two hour walk and making doctor’s and dentist’s appointments, getting my eyes checked after I.’s parent/teacher conference.
I remember still what parent/teacher conferences were like when Sheila would have me come in with Mom and Dad and they would talk about me and ask me to draw a straight line between two points. That was back when work was under contractual agreement (which may indeed explain my need for quid pro quo setups) I did three years worth of math in one year because I loved it. I don’t know what possessed me to be a woman of letters. I suppose I still have time to bail. One of my many secret wishes, the ones that hide in the back of the closet when I sift through for something presentable yet comfortable to wear, was to have been a physicist. I think it may be too late for me now. Another was, of course, to be a singer, not a diva, not really, just a quirky ol’ folksinger would have done me just fine… But my fingers are too torpes to play the guitar, and there is not much market, let’s face it, for a solo artist with no art. But thinking on this whole solo flying mission (the ophtalmologist said my eyes are almost perfect, but teased that if I want to become a night pilot, I might want to wear my glasses) I decided to actually treat myself to a nice dinner cooked by my very own loving hands. So, seeing as how the salmon I purchased the other night was beckoning, and who better to eat it than me (as no one else could be enticed)? I figured, hell, I’ll be creative, for once.
So I salted it, just right, sprinkled a dusting of curry over the top and baked with an apricot preserve glaze. Meanwhile I peeled the skins from previously boiled potatoes, in a lazy and altogether inefficient manner, thinking about how if anyone else were there watching me, they would be irked by my absolute unprofessionalism and I smiled to myself, thank god I’m alone. Once I diced the potatoes into reasonably bite size cubes, I diced a boiled egg and dusted the two with salt, for the dressing I made a scallion, curry mayonaise, with a dash of salt, lemon and sugar. Magnificent. And, for the ultimate balance that is never missing from my mother’s table, the appropriate proportion of green leafy vegetables (an herb mix), with halved cherry tomatoes for a splash of color, and of course a balsamic vinaigrette. There are still days that I think I might prefer to be a chef, than an academic, or a writer (ha!). So I take pictures to commemorate my evening, and to add to my archive of food pornography, and I write just a little, to process my day, before going back to my work, the neverending procession of papers and tests and…
Maybe I’ll just go take a hot shower instead.
Day 276-April 26th: Lunch with the Girls