Wednesday, November 07, 2018

What is the truth?

It is the day after the mid-term elections and I am still alive.  No one has come for my guns.

I had multiple horses in this race and some results were good and some were better.

I had two Beto signs in my yard.  Actually, they are still there.  I need to go pull them out. 

I may need to update them soon.

I just pulled them out and need to clean them up.  I think they will have continued value or is that the hoarder in me? 

As an educator, I want to give out good information.  How do I tell my students what THE Truth is?  How do I determine that? 

All I can do is read everything I can about a subject and then ask questions when things don't make sense. 

Truth is important to me.  I loathe being lied to. About anything.  I can deal with the truth, whatever it might be.  I've had to deal with too many liars in my life.  People who lied as easily as breathing for no apparent reason.  I don't get it, because my mind doesn't work that way. 

It's getting harder in America to ascertain the TRUTH.  So many entities are involved with "spin" to change the facts to represent a particular point of view. 

I reject this.

I want objectivity.  I want to know the stone cold hard facts.  THIS is red.  THIS is soft.  THIS is emotionally charged because. 

I guess Truth varies from person to person.  My personal Truth regarding a very politically charged subject is very personal.  My response to that Truth is harsh at times and sometimes forgiving.  I'd be lying if I didn't admit that choices make profound differences. 

I am confident today that I've made good and bad choices.  The consequences are profound with all choices.   However, I can only deal with the path I've followed.   I cannot make changes at this point.  All I can do is move forward and hopefully make better choices an informed point of view. 








Monday, July 31, 2017

Coming Home on a Germ Tube

To begin with, please let me laud Virgin America Airlines. They are efficient and comfortable. On the way out I wanted a bloody mary with Tito handmade vodka. I'm not sure



I am an old person from Arkansas. Part of my linguistic upbringing involved learning correct grammar and later in my schooling correct pronunciation.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

"Always seek the truth, then you're nobody's fool"

I've again been diligent on my news watching.  I've been reading the same political stories across the board from different perspectives so that I can ascertain the FACTS.

I am learning a lot about spin.  It sounds a lot like Educationese.  Instead of saying "he beats his head against the table and frightens other students," we might say "student fails to engage positively with his peers" which sounds a lot nicer.  

About today????? Today was described by people closely watching on the outside as both breathtaking and surreal.  

Tomorrow the next clown car rally gets going.  

Always seek the truth, then you're nobody's fool - Susan Embler


Monday, July 10, 2017

I Want to Run an One Room Schoolhouse One Day

I'm so excited that I get to and spend time with dear relatives in the near future.  It's going to be challenging because I've already been tried and judged.  The issue is known and impeccably packaged and on the table.

It's politics.  

I"m a pariah.  They still love me because they have to and think I'm probably stupid.  I still love them regardless and I know they are under informed.

I'm stupid and they are ignorant and OH aren't we going to have fun.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

The opening shot goes across the bow within 30 minutes of me getting home. Last time I responded that we'd all have a better time if we didn't discuss politics.  My parents did teach me manners.

So odd, at my "advanced" age that I still have apprehension about visiting the home of my parents.
I hope that we will have a lot of good old fashioned reminiscing and tell some tales.  I'll work on shooting pictures of the family albums with my phone and upload to the web.

I hope to God that there is not some kind of media shit storm while I'm there.  LA is already weird.  Add that to the FOX NEWS burned into the corner of the TV set......

The beach is only a half mile away.  I can run away from the house and go drink Margaritas at El Torito and call my mother to pick me up or Uber to drop me off.  If it is a Big Ugly Tweet, I bet I can get mom to buy.



Friday, June 02, 2017

Oh Glorious Weather that astounds me

There is a terribly old and trite statement about the weather in Texas.  If  you don't like it, wait fifteen minutes. Rimshot.

I have a late spring birthday (tomorrow) so I can remember volatile and extreme weather that peppered my birthday celebrations.  It makes me happy. I have an aunt called Stormy (whose birthday is in a month). I internalize the storms and the winds and the rains.    

Weather in Texas can be so spectacular.  I can tell from the weather radar that I am in the lull between the storms.  Texas is known for thunderstorms that can produce all kinds of effects and vary from longitude to longitude.  We have been blessed during this first wave of hellation. No trees are down, no hail to speak of.  The yard has washed out into the street. Again.   


Personally, I think we get a big break because of urban heat. I live near a confluence of two major interstates and very often the weather seems to break around home.  This is fortunate because the local infrastructure is prone to flash floods. 


I would be reluctant to get out and drive around in the near future except for family emergencies.  I would go through ravaging floods for one of my offspring, but they're really all very bright and know better than to go out when the local creeks are overflowing their banks. They grew up around here and played "The Tornado Game. "  

I see a glow over my neighbor's roof. It's kind of funny. This time of year the sun gets in my eyes for a few minutes as it ascends and the declination changes I catch glare from over the neighbor's roof. I can see a brightening of the roofline which is different from early afternoon. I can see an atmospheric glow of light over the rooftop but it is not in my eyes.  


Things cleared for a bit, but I still hear thunder and the cloud cover seems to be eating the sunset.  


Thunder is a residual line of backstory. 


We are between the embrace of racing weather systems.  






Thursday, May 25, 2017

Unhappy Camper

It's hard as a teacher to give parents bad news.  Most of the time the parents are not surprised.  I've had a challenging year with some of my students.  To begin with, it's hard to fail art.  You have to be a real jackass.  You don't fail art because you are bad at art,  you fail art because you don't even try to put a mark on a piece of paper.  We have students of all ability levels.  We grade on effort.  You can be the worst talented person on the planet, but if you try the assignments and show effort you'll make an A.

I got a call from a counselor today about student a.  The counselor said that student a needed my class to graduate.   This student had a failing grade the first semester and an even lower failing grade the second semester.  Um, all of the points that he got all year were sympathy points.  If I look at his overall effort for the year I could with great kindness give him a 7.   For the year.  The counselor said I needed to talk to a parent so that this student didn't show up for graduation rehearsal tomorrow.

So, I had to call the parent to tell her that her student had failed the class and she said she knew he had because of a meeting she'd had with school people.  I reminded her that I'd sent her emails during the year but she denied getting any. I found an email that she had replied to, so I guess she doesn't remember well.  I guess, she never looked at his report card that did not reflect a single passing grade all year.  It's a little late to get irate about it.

I gave her the courtesy of a phone call as requested by my administration.  I told her that I had tried to work with her student and would have enjoyed working with her student and she said "I'm sorry YOU are so boring."

Huh.

Student a came in tardy almost every day.  He laid his head down and slept pretty much every day all year. I would wake him up and he'd go back to sleep.  I got a sketch or two out of him all year.  I graded him accordingly.  I reported to administration that I thought he was under the influence.  All he would be accounted for was with being sleepy.

Somehow it is MY fault because my class is boring according to the student who was a total lump all year.  Our class space is precious.  So many kids wanted his seat in the class.  Our classes fill up so fast.  We have to turn children away who WANT to be in our program.

This is the kind of thinking that drives dedicated educators out of the field.  Blame the teacher because the student didn't/wouldn't do the work.  Damn.

We need teachers.  We need individuals who understand the value of an education.  We need to help our community understand the need for education.  We need to support our teachers who are in the trenches.

It's a Gestalt thing.  Also my rant. Pardon me.

Happy Camper

It is nearing the end of the school year. Things are exciting.  The seniors are all stoked about graduation.  And well they should be.  Graduating from high school is a major accomplishment.  I am privileged as a teacher.  I can count the top four and six of the top ten graduates as my students.  Does it get better than that? I taught several of them for multiple years.  Wow.

I am so grateful to share my educational experience with so many great kids.  I know they will do amazing things.

Saturday, June 11, 2016

My dog was sexually harassed at the dog park today

I'm on summertime.  The best thing I can do is sleep and lose track of which day it is.  It's my mental healing. I hibernate in the summer and go on "dreamtime."

I was up before noon today and agreed to go to the Dog Park.  Mark told me we needed to go before it rained.  Mark has a "duty" for one of our children in the neighborhood so he dropped Mike and me off at the dog park.  Mike doesn't mind me as well as he does Mark.  I think it is kind of hilarious that at the dog park I am hollering "Mike" and I wonder how many guys at the dog park are named "Mike."  I think that one guy today thought I knew him and was so excited that I was hollering his name.  I've been watching too much of Criminal Minds.

Mark did his duty and reported back to the dog park.  It was sauna hot with no breeze.  Mike was hot, I was hot and Mark suggested we adjourn to a grassy knoll in the shade.  We did so adjoin and then there was this fluffy dog that came up and made untoward advances toward Mike.  There was a young nubile whippet female who flirted about and seemed to like Mike.  There was a lot of posturing and a pissing contest ensued around the tree that provided our shade.  At one point there were four dogs in a line to piss on the tree.  I thought that the fluffy dog was trying to impress the whippet but it soon became obvious that he was interested in our Mike.  Mike ran away and fluffy dog ran along beside him trying to offer ..... favors.  Mike ran here and he ran there and fluffy dog chased him all over and was relentlessly offering "favors."  I hollered after Mike and said "Mike, just say NOOOOOOOOO."  Mark thought that was rude.

Anyway, we sat there for a while and Mike and his admirer laced in and out between us and we discouraged aggressive behavior.  Fluffy chased Mike all over the place and out into the bushes that are more hidden and Mike ran away and Fluffy kept offering favors and he would try to run along next to Mike while rendering favors and it was kind of intense to follow.

Fluffy's human came by and scooped up his dog and says "I think my dog likes your dog."

Duh?




Monday, May 16, 2016

16th of May 2016

I saw many things today.

Retro....back up....it goes up in smoke.

The children are wild and unruly.  They are so over high stakes testing and AP testing that they are just out of their minds.   I'm so tired after AP testing and I'm not done yet.   We are all a cocaphony of intensity and emotion and angst.

The end of the year looms and beckons with golden skies.

Today I saw Blue Jays.  I also saw a Cardinal.  I saw fat white winged doves.  I remember how tasty doves are.  Is that wrong?


Saturday, March 05, 2016

What I Saw Today

What I Saw Today  Throw back a few years.

To soften things, I spent the day with other teachers who are out for Spring Break.  I get to listen to A Way with Words on the way to book club.  One of the things they talked about what kind of environment one needs in order to write.  Grant said that he put in earplugs that expand into your ear canal and block out any noise and Martha says she put on earbuds and was able to write with "spa" type music (my interpretation)   I said that I can write in a hurricane but it is hard for me to write unless Mark shuts up.  He's talking as I write and screeches at me as he talks about deciding about what he needs to stay alive.

I am distracted.  He's gone off into glory.  I would like to write about things that I would like to write about but I've been hijacked as a muse to tell his story.  He wants grandbabies.  I want them too.  He's a superstar and could live twenty years and wants to spend time with them.  I do not want to discuss his health situation but I am a faithful scribe because I was going to write about things important to me but Mark wants me to tell his story.

I totally got hijacked.   I can't keep up with him.   I kind of forgot what I wanted to talk about.  It's kind of hard.  I had a stroke that reduced my attention span to that of a goldfish.

I am frustrated every day because I start to talk about something and something distracts me and I forget what the hell I was thinking.

It's hard being an art teacher at times.  It's glorious at others.  We want our kids to ask questions. We want them to challenge the problem.  It's great when they do.

Sometimes, I'd like to write my own narrative. That's my point.

I just need for him to be quiet for a space of time and not feel threatened that I'm not paying attention to him.   I could write glorious things if he would just be quiet and not feel threatened.

He doesn't seem to realize that I have a blog for many years.  He's not interested.  I'm married to the man 33 years and he's not interested.  That's kind of tragic.

So, I move on.  I'm grateful that I have friends that love me and give a rat's ass about my daily existence.   I'm glad that there are folks that have some interest in what I have to say.

I'm trying to express today about how I feel about the people I love.  I love them all.  You all know who you are. I'm still being distracted by Mark's narrative, he won't leave me alone. I forgot what I was going to say because apparently I'm a bad person because I'm not giving my undivided attention to my husband.

That's what I saw today.

Tuesday, October 06, 2015

Jump Down Turn Around Pick A Bale of Cotton


Ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale of Cotton)
Do ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale a Day)
Do ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale of Cotton)
Do ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale a Day)

Whoa Whoa Lordie
(Pick a Bale of Cotton)
Whoa Whoa Lordie
(Pick a Bale a Day)
Whoa Lordie
(Pick a Bale of Cotton)

Do ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale of Cotton)
Do ya wanna jump down turn around
(Pick a Bale a Day)
Do ya wanna jump down turn around..."


I heard this go by recently and the tune haunts me and harkens back to days of yore ;)  The melody and energy of the song are both energizing and has been stuck in my head like a tunneling ear-worm.

I learned this song at the knee of my grandmother when I was small.  I can still remember her acting it out for me.  She had picked a lot of cotton in her day.  Her hands were roughly worn, but still always brought joy.  She told me once that she would leave picking cotton to go up to the house to have a baby.   She showed me cotton bolls when I was tiny, I remember how they pricked and scratched.   She didn't have to pick in the fields anymore because they had some newfangled cotton-picking machine.

I was humming it at school the other day and a child asked me what the song was.  I sang pretty much the above lyrics with joy (I am known for interpretive dance). Some of the kids thought it was catchy and one kid said "Miss, that's racist."

I asked how.  The kid said "That's making fun of black people."

I asked how.  She said, "That's a slave song."

pause

I asked her how she knew that.  She said, "Well, that's just my opinion"

I asked her if she'd ever known any slaves.  No.  I asked her if she'd ever known anyone who picked cotton.  No.

People make assumptions.  My Cherokee/English grandmother picked cotton and showed ME how she did it.  I don't know if I know anyone else who can say that.  I think I own that song.

FWIW










Sunday, June 07, 2015

Welcome to the Grand Opening of the Dog Park Everyone!

Yesterday, the White Rock Dog Park reopened after some months.  We'd gone up there last week when it was supposed to open initially, but after all the rain we've had lately, it was probably good to let it dry out a week.

We started off at the small dog side. Mike was funny, he didn't want to go run as much as he wanted Mark to walk around the place with him.  I had my iPad and was content to try to catch up a few pages on our book club book.  Mike got bored, so Mark took him over to the dog launch and I just sat on the bench in the shade and read and pet occasional dogs that go by. They usually pet me first.

While I was reading I felt a nudge and there was a very wet fox terrier with a show dog cut that asked very politely if I would scratch an itch for him.  I did and he went his way.  There were other people there.  There was a guy with a real book and if I'm not mistaken a Bill Nye the Science Guy bookmark.  He also was wearing a boot on his ankle so I had instant sympathy since I've recently gotten out of one.

There were a couple of girls with a dog named Sadie that ran all over the place and was really not a menace. There were folks with itty bitty dogs. There were a group of ladies standing in the shade behind the bench where I was and random folks would come by and try to engage their dog with the newfangled water fountain but not many of the canines were buying that noisy contraption.

My attention was then drawn by a histrionic queen just going off on the group of ladies behind me.  "Don't you touch my dog (the same fox terrier I had obligingly scratched) and they said they'd leave his dog alone.  He started disparaging them about his supposition of their lack of education (I believe he said sixth grade).  One of the ladies said "God Bless you, sir." and he was walking off and turned around said "NO, God Bless  YOU, have you got your food-stamps yet this month?"

I'm thinking in my own head that I could sure use that BFA in metalsmithing to demonstrate what an education with hammers can do for an individual, but the guy and his fancy dog were leaving the small dog area.  The guy with a book says, "What an asshole, this is a public park, people are going to touch your dog if the dog approaches them."  One of the ladies came to refill a water dish and I told her my favorite new quote about unpleasant people.  "You can't stick a flower in an asshole and call it a vase."  They laughed and one said "That man is strange."  I eavesdropped on them for a bit and I think one of them was a teacher and they were asking about another's daughter that had just graduated from college.

I was proud that these ladies just considered the source and went on.  I was horrified.

And then he came BACK.  He walked right up to these ladies and shot their picture and said "I hope you like Instagram." and then left again.   That left all of us there shaking our heads and thinking "Bless HIS heart."

Meanwhile,  Mark and Mike holler through the fence that they are going to the big dog park.  I'm settled back down and I'm reading again when the same jerk (I'm feeling sorry for the dog at this point) comes back in and sits about 20 feet from this group of ladies and stares at them.  I see Mark coming back so I get up to head out.

He can tell I'm rattled and I tell him the strange and surreal time we spent apart at the dog park.  I guess I can have adventures anywhere I go.









Friday, December 26, 2014

The Interview

We watched this silly movie today.  It really had me laughing almost all of the way through.  I could have skipped that part in the Korean Control Booth.

I think that this film is as much a statement of international diplomacy as Idiocracy taunts sociologists and anthropologists.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Observing Humanity

I hardly slept last  night... We are farming out a litter of kittens and were down to the last two.  We have restrained their access to the world at large and they cried a lot.  Momma cried because we separated her from her babies.  The babies cried because they missed Momma.

I am a hibernator.  I want to sleep as late as is humanly possible.  I was woken up probably a hundred times last night.  I was wide awake before ten am on this Sunday morning and so we kick-started a very busy day.

One of our favorite Sunday destinations is Circle Grill.  It's infamous. There are tables named for regulars.  We've been in the neighborhood for some years.  We went for our favorite breakfast meals. I get a #1 over medium with sausage patties and hashbrowns (need to  remember to order them crispy) and biscuits and gravy.  Mark gets the veggie platter.

Today we are seated in the back of the front room.  I look around to see if I see folks I know.  1/2 the time I do.  It's very busy and things are running slow.  We see two families with children in the corners.  

One family is ambiguous.  We watch carefully because we are nosy and observant.  We see a booth behind us with a boy and a girl in a princess costume and two daddys. There is a lot of coloring going on. There is a lot of manners training about napkins in the lap.  We can hear them talking to their children.

We see another family.  A young latino couple with a toddler.  The baby is allowed to peel all the lids off of the jelly and the creamer.  We see the child throw a creamer past his dad's head and it hits the wall.  We see the small child escape out of his booth and go about and harass other diners.  

Dad is about to pay and the toddler grabs a hundred dollar bill out of his hand and carries it to another diner.

I see the boy and girl being talked to and colored with and celebrated and we see this tiny boy being ignored and allowed to be a nuisance in a public restaurant.

Who would society support?  The two attentive daddies or the inattentive Latino mom and dad.

As a public school teacher, I want the kids that are being colored with and are being taught manners.  They have a much higher chance for success than the tiny Latino boy that was allowed to run rampant.

Why does our society support the machismo view in poverty?  That small Latino boy will be taught that his stuff doesn't stink and that his mother is less than.  He's going to be spoiled and uneducated.  The two daddys obviously support their children learning good manners and using their time being creative.   The Latino parents loosed their child on the restaurant because Dad thought it was cute for  him to be a menace. It was obvious that mom was not allowed to say boo to the boy.
 
Later in the day I was waiting in a parking lot for my hubby to pick me up after a pedicure appointment.  I saw a couple walk by.  They were holding hands.  The man was singing at the top of his lungs.   I could see the doobie tucked behind his ear.

He sure sounded happy.

What an odd day to see things!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Dude, It's Christmas

We had some errands to run today.  We had lunch with our local children and planned out our holiday activities.  It's a bit different this year as some of the family is unhappy with us.  We weren't invited to Mark's family celebration for the first time ever... I've been going since 1981.

I can live with that, in fact, I'm somewhat relieved. We didn't really want to spend time watching our step father/father in law act like a jackass.

The weird thing today is the guy I heard.  Sometimes, I hear people talking in my head.  Some folks are very loud broadcasters, especially if they are upset for any reason.  Mark ran in to a convenience store while I sat in the car.  I could hear him mulling it over in his head if I would be an easy mark.  I talked back in my head and said "Dude, it's Christmas, don't be hating."  I zoned out for a minute. I think I plead for kindness.

Mark came around the corner of the store and didn't look happy. He loaded up his purchases and said "did you see that guy?" I looked up and the guy was leaning against the side of the store smoking a cigarette.  I said that I didn't see him.  Mark was upset and said, "he was standing by our car right behind your door."  He moved over there when he saw me coming.

I looked at the guy.  He was still broadcasting very loud.  I looked him eye to eye and thought "Dude, it's Christmas, make the best of it."