When You’re at a Crossroads: Take It from Me, It’s Okay to Feel Lost (Notes from the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest)

In this post, a high school English teacher gets lost in the forest of northwest Washington.

I am stuck at a crossroads — which way to go? Following the course of the Foss River in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, I’m allowed to be lost, a wanderer. I’m happy I found a rock to sit on so I can gather my thoughts, drink some water (from the mountain creek, of course). If you don’t hear from me, it means I’ve taken up residence in the forest. I’ll come out when I’m dang ready.

The Foss River

Somewhere in the Northwest

Click Here to Read Part IV

PDF Copy for Printing

That Weekend I Stayed in a Small Mountain Town in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest (along the Cascade Mountain Range in Washington State)

In this post, I write about why fantasy for the rustic life is really a sham. I'm not made for the mountains. But I liked my visit to Skykomish, Washington.

"Sheeeeeeshhhhh!"

The Empire Builder 
passes through
Skykomish

I found a rock to sit on to do some writing. When you arrive in Skykomish, Washington — you're in the middle of the Cascades Mountains. Because a railroad tycoon by the name of Stevens, built a railroad from Spokane to the Puget Sound — the place is smack dab in the middle of train history U.S.A.

Fishbowl

By the 1890s, the United States had already built a few transcontinental railroads — thanks to the unsung contribution of cheap Chinese labor — which the government tried to put a stop to with the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882. Even though Washington D.C. put a smackdown on immigration from Asia, the economy begged to open more portals to the West. A direct train route to Puget Sound. Open more trans-Pacific trade. But a train through the Cascades would prove to be a more difficult challenge. The mountains are a formidable presence — up to about 4,000 feet above sea level, which for a Louisiana boy, is a lot. I'm breathing air at high altitudes, refilling my bottle with water from the Foss River. 

Shoes Made for Walking?

Loving being outdoors — but dang, it's uncharacteristically hot today — the high is 90 ° F. Even the people who live here say that’s hot. Sitting by the river — I don't jump in, but I feel the coolness of the rock, and the water is ice cold to the touch. 

What’s your favorite picture that I took?

Click Here to Read Part III

PDF Copy for Printing

All Aboard! The Capitol Limited is an Overnight Train between Washington, D.C. and Chicago (And Where I Hung Out with Mennonites)

In this post, I wax lyrical about the joys of long distance train travel via Amtrak. Also, I’ve started a travel log of sorts.

All who wander are not lost. If you know me you probably know I like to travel by train. It's been a bucket 🪣 list of mine to traverse the United States on every @amtrak route in the United States. 

So far, I've relegated train travel to the South and North East regions. But, hey. Now that the country is opening up a bit more after a year or more of Covid-19 restrictions, I'm venturing West — along with the Capitol Limited, to Chicago — and stay tuned; later this week, I'm boarding the scenic Empire Builder train. Yay.

And of course, I've already met some fabulous folk. Lonnie is traveling from West Virginia after spending time “with his woman,” and Burke is a college student studying Chemistry. And it appears, this morning, I've just run into a gaggle of giggling Mennonite women just outside of Toledo, Ohio. 

What should I do for my four-hour layover in Chicago? See y'all real soon, boo. Sprinkles!

Toledo, Ohio

Some Mennonite Women

Click Here to Read Part II

PDF Copy for Printing

Travel Diary #34598: On A Memorial Day in Oyster Bay, Nassau County on a Wet, Rainy, Cusp-of-Summer Afternoon

In this post, I recount a Memorial Day weekend outing to Oyster Bay.

It’s Memorial Day, y’all. Do you think of history when you think of Long Island? Did you know that Teddy Roosevelt, the 

26th president of the United States, was a New Yorker — and he had a Summer home in Long Island? It’s a beautiful area. And you can climb up a hill and see where he’s buried (and get a nice view of Long Island Sound). 

And we hung out in a nature preserve. OMG. I felt like a kid. Going down random trails. Even though it was rainy, it was glorious. And I cooked a whole chicken and watched Dangerous Liaisons on HBO Max — the one with Glenn Close and John Malkovich as conniving ex-lovers in nineteenth-century France. It was a fun diversion. 

.

.

   .

   .

   .

#memorialdayweekend#theodoreroosevelt #oysterbay#glenhead #glencove #locustvalley#naturehikes #honoringourheroes🇺🇸❤️💙  @stonesoferasmus @theodorerooseveltsanctuary

PDF Copy for Printing

Why Wednesday Is the Day of the Week to Send Messages (Because of Woden, or, as the Greeks Call Him, Hermes)

Wednesday is named for Woden — the Norse parallel for the Greek and Roman messenger god Hermes.

Ephemera
I’m obsessed with messages, epistolary novels, and journeys and undertakings. I never 👎 skip by a note or love letter. Even a torn letter I see on the sidewalk. I'll pick it up. And save it. And I love to eat tears and swallow joy.

My friends say I’m constantly flexing. My students want the school year to end. I’m listening to lots of books on tape and cooking lots of sausages and egg salad.

Achievements
I’m proud of my student @jukycheng, who got accepted into a Summer engineering program at NYU Tandon in Brooklyn. Congrats, Juky!

And I’m also excited for the Summer—those dog days. But I’m into May. With its warm afternoons and occasional showers.

Let's Chat!
How are you holding up? Need a hug? Here’s one. Need a nudge? Here’s one? Need a ride on a white swan? I don’t have that, but drop me a message if you want to chat about YA novels and the best place to walk in New York City.

Mr. Greig Roselli, Teacher, Writer, and Philosophy Sprinkles Maker!

Click Here! for a PDF Copy for Printing and Viewing

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week! (And How to Download a FREEBIE from TpT)

Hi, Friends, and Happy Teacher Appreciation Week!

Share the Love

I know. I wrote that subject line with a lot of pride! But it's true. You guys buy stuff from my store because you must really love what I do with educational downloads. And that's the beauty of TpT. There are thousands of sellers on this site, and a part of you chose me. AWWWWWWW.

FREEBIE Creation Myth Individual Lesson Plan

Access this Freebie on TpT

Get this freebie from my store -- it is now the featured free content I am showcasing. So download. And drop a like if you thought it was awesome. I created a lesson plan to teach Greek Creation myths. I hope you like it!

100+ Products and Counting

I recently topped over a hundred digital downloads on the Stones of Erasmus store. I am uber-proud and uber-excited to get more stuff rolled out soon. Currently, I am exhausting my creative output on Mythology.

Teaching Resources Based on Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You

I am also making products related to Ibram Kendi's amazing book Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You — a Young Adult non-fiction remix with author Jason Reynolds. So check that out, too!

A toolbox for Teachers to Use with Stamped

Love, Peace, and Harmony —

Greig from Stones of Erasmus

stonesoferasmus.com

PDF Copy for Printing

A Paean to Payphones (And Why I Feel Nostalgic for Old School Telecommunication)

When is the last time you used a working payphone? How sure are you that you can find one if your mobile phone goes dead? Do you have a quarter in your pocket?

Found a working payphone in the
Times Square / 42nd Street Station in New York City

Nostalgia is dangerous. Start feeling nostalgia, and suddenly, everything in the present is suspect. "Oh, I remember the days when you had to call someone on a landline."

But I like it when old-school technology still persists. I don't want to return to using payphones. They are clunky (and who has change, anyway?). And just when the conversation gets good, you have to add another quarter to continue the call.

You can find a working payphone in a few subway stations, strip malls, maybe a gas station in Duluth?

I used a payphone recently. I cannot remember why. It was when I was traveling. My phone was dead. I think it was in an Amtrak station (which I feel like is where I would find a working payphone).

Ironically, the school where I work has a payphone in the main hallway. But it does not work. It just hangs there on the wall. Hundreds of people walk by it. Heck. I didn't even notice it until like two years working at the school. I think it will become an art installation. Soon.

Fun fact: Payphones still exist. And one in five of them are in New York City! The Federal Communications Commission still regulates payphones. They still maintain a tip guide for using them and not get scammed when using a calling card. Remember those?

When was the last time you used a payphone?

PDF Copy for Printing   

On Positivity and How I Am Dealing With Teaching and Promoting Anti-Hate (#stopasianhate #stopblackhate #love)

"Girrrrrrllllllll!" is my general mood as of late.

Two people told me today, “You are always so positive.” The first was a colleague — and they always encourage me to be myself. The second was a student —

.... she came to me after class and was like, “Thank you for always being positive.” And I was like, “Well. I can embrace my sadness. But it's important not get distracted by the negative.” Like. I mean — I'm not oblivious to the Rainbow of emotions. But I like to infuse joy, especially with adolescents. It is the way I connect, and it's the glue to keep a classroom together. That and reading, writing, and arithmetic.

My two English colleagues and besties.

It’s been a stressful year — Covid-19. A disrupted school year. And a tragic time. George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. Say their names. And Asian Hate 😡. 

One of my kids said this week, “I don't like coming to school. I like school. It's just getting there. Should I bring mace?” I told him — “Your feelings are valid.” And we talked about strategies to signal for help if a hater ever comes at you. Pretend to talk on the phone. Don't travel alone or on a lonely street.

All this hate takes its toll. It's toxic.

What are you doing to help folks feel safe? What should we be doing? Am I right to spread positivity? Even when I'm sad or broken, or I feel like I can't find the energy to teach or do whatever. I got this.

Start Class with the Right Attitude

Love you all!

.⁣
.⁣
.⁣
.⁣
.⁣
#covidstories #highschoolenglishteacher#stopasianhateのヴィジュアルを掲出しています #stopasianhate活動#stopviolence #stopblackhate #stopasianhatenyc 😥😔💔😞😩 #positivevibes #love #stopasianhate❤️😔 #stopasianhate能看到 ✊🏽✊🏼✊🏾✊ #stoppeopleofcolorhate❤️#stopasianhate❌#stopasianhatecanada #motivation via stonesoferasmus.com

PDF Copy for Printing

Report from a Holy Saturday, Once: The Holy Fire Liturgy at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem

On one Holy Saturday – spontaneously – I attended the Holy Fire liturgy at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher (The Church of the Resurrection, as it’s called in the West) in Jerusalem.  

Photo by Dave Herring on Unsplash

Islam has the keys to the door, Jews are honored guests, and a potage of Christian groups run this place, but this morning the Greek Orthodox had the worship space.  Because of the status quo set into rigid placement two or so hundred years ago by the Ottoman Empire, liturgies in the Holy Sepulchre are set according to a very stiff timetable — implemented before the Second Vatican Council. Hence, even today, the Latin’s celebrate the Easter Vigil at 6:30 in the morning!  

After the Latin Patriarch and his train left with much fanfare, the Holy Sepulchre doors closed. A Moslem “guard” locked the doors again in a ceremonial “ladder from hole” routine, and we waited for the Greeks and Armenians to show up for their traditional greeting.  It was uncomfortable, waiting in line, waiting for the doors to open while hewn matrons with steely eyes yelled out invective to anyone who attempted to cross their space. The dazed English speakers could only muster, “What are you saying?” The women would only continue to spill out their sputter onto the crowd and me. 

When finally the old, crackly wooden doors finally, slowly wheezed open again, the people, not a single file, piled into the Basilica, arms clutching their children hoping for a heavenly blessing.  Everyone wants a view of the aedicule (edicule), which is the structure believed to be the place Christ was laid to rest and rose again. It is not the most beautiful structure; steel supports cover the faded glory tomb – a phalanx of luminaries fill the entrance, making visible a gaudy icon on top of something or other.  I could only see glimpses of the tomb, as I was constantly, for four hours, smashed up against people’s backs and other parts – at one time, a woman’s long strand of hair found itself in my mouth.  The fervor heightened inside the Basilica as Armenian teenagers walloped and yelled, climbed the aedicule singing “fire” songs, praying for the angel to come and light the place ablaze.  I could only look blearily on from my curtailed privacy, people continually poking and prodding me.  

This lasted for a very long time, while in the crowds, people collapsed from fatigue.  The church’s central section was throbbing with action that a Westerner could only gawk at – is this liturgy? I wondered.  What sort of liturgy is utter chaos?  There was no sense of order in this bedlam – if there was any, I could not see it maybe I had no faith. Only the person of faith sees the angel come down to light the flames, for hours processions followed the tomb around and around.  

Periods of silence where it seemed nothing was going on ensued, only the people’s continual hum and a loud chant song from the tomb precincts.  The anticipation was growing, and I was hot and bothered – the sweat collected and the compression of people made my head swim.  I reminded myself I was about to witness a miracle.  The Greek Patriarch entered the tomb to receive the holy fire from the angel. He is ritually searched by a Moslem group and then enters – I think alone or maybe with an assistant.   No sound comes from the aedicule as the inner thumping of peoples’ anticipation grows.  Then it happens, suddenly, without a warning – a hand sticks out of a pre-carved oval with a flame.  The whole church goes crazy – people are singing and waving their candles, and the flame approaches me like a fireball, for by now, hundreds of people have lit their torches. Quickly the place becomes hot, the wax is flying around and soon, anti-luminaries with handy sprayers violently extinguish the flames.  Some place their flame in a secure metal box to be taken home to the dinner table or on the next Greek Air flight!  

In about five minutes, the whole Basilica was bathed by a bequest from an angel – a sight to behold – I just could not believe it as I again joined the throng trying to crawl my way out of this enormous church where I had indeed experienced a miracle.  And when I got outside, I saw holy flames licking the streets of Jerusalem – Christ-like a Pandora shedding not chaos, but wild radical mercy on his people.

Note: This post was originally written in the Spring of 2000.

PDF Copy for Printing

Spring Break with Jambalaya and Friends and Why I Love Faces (and Portraits!)

What’s the best feature of the photograph? Portraits! Photos capture faces. And I’ve appreciated faces lately — especially during this recent Spring Break-cum-Easter time and so on.

I made jambalaya and fed it to a few friends to
celebrate that we're all vaccinated and can now
officially hang out together (and of course, that does
not mean we are lax with social distancing and mask-wearing). 

As vaccinations against Covid-19 are more widely distributed, people are congregating with each other to celebrate. While mask-wearing and general social

In Diversity Plaza in Queens
on a Spring Day

distancing guidelines are still in place, being vaccinated means I can hang out with folks I haven’t been with since March of last year. I saw my friend Michelle and her family, and I made jambalaya for a group of teacher-friends. By the way — the jambalaya was lit 🔥.

PDF Copy for Printing