I've created a new daily blog specifically dedicated to classroom organization and management. Please visit me there at: The Clutter-Free Classroom
When I was little, my mother used to make a culinary delight.
It was a treat for the senses.
We called it Goulash.
I Googled Goulash (try saying "Google Goulash" 3 x fast) and found out that it was all a lie. The results for "goulash" do not even remotely resemble this dietary staple of my childhood.
So I called my sister and said, "Take a casserole dish, line it with Spam, dump in Velveeta Cheese, a can of corn, and instant mashed potatoes. Bake it in the oven until the instant taters from a box get all brown and crunchy. What's it called?"
Her response, "I call it GROSS! Why?"
I found myself discussing this dish as the culmination of one of my rambling tangents today.
You know the ones where you start to tell a story and then get off topic and forget your point.
In this case my path lead me to a description of Mama's Goulash. Want to know where it started? Spam.
But, not the nasty processed 'meat-product' spam. The kind you get in your inbox.
I discovered today that I've been spamming people for months and months. Unknowingly.
When my classes started in January I used the email account that I use for this blog and my business. I needed to set up a gmail account for the course and since I already had this one I figured it would be easiest to use it.
No big deal.
Except I forgot that there is a signature file attached to my email with links to my blog and store. I didn't realize until today that it automatically attached to all my messages.
That means that every. single. email. that I sent over the course of the semester (and there were a bunch) all had the signature. Hopefully they knew that it was an automatic thing and weren't just figuring I was using the course for marketing purposes.
So if you are here because you clicked on the link in an email...well, welcome.
If you are here because you are one of my regular readers, and you were just asking yourself, "What's for dinner?" Well then, might I suggest a heaping helping of Spam Casserole? Now you have the recipe. Go crazy. I triple dog dare you to bring it to a potluck and try to keep a straight face.
And on that note...what's the yuckiest thing you were forced to eat as a child?