I've been waiting for this book. I paused two years in my life to get back around to this one. I finished A Feast For Crows yesterday and I want the next book badly and I'm grateful that I don't have as long to wait as I would have if I'd gotten this one when it first came out.
I'm going to have to chase George R. R. Martin about the room with a sharp stick. I'm appalled, I'm dumbfounded, I want the next one NOW.
Oy.
/me "she taps rhythmically on her keyboard because words have left her."
I've seen a lot of stuff go by in the last week. I will have to sum it up under today.
Today I saw very dry grass across the street from the school. My friends were missing today so I didn't get a ride to get lunch somewhere and I sneaked off to smoke at some point.
At two PM promptly I walked across Chariot and tried to be as nonchalant as a white woman walking in an empty field in the hood can be. I walked out into the mowed field maybe fifty yards and realized with the high winds and my cigarette afire that it was not a happy placement. I walked very casually back to the storm drain and watched my ash very carefully before I temporarily satisfied my nicotine craving and wandered back into the building.
Last Tuesday night (today is Monday) I went to a "town hall" meeting at my school. My district administration is being heavy handed and is doing things that are unkind.
Thursday, my art classes painted protest signs to be used at the school board meeting. My school has 11 art teachers and half of us alloted class time to the skill of lettering posters and the use of colors to provoke emotional response. We chose this opportunity to teach about Henry David Thoreau and his essay on Civil Disobedience. What a teachable moment. We teach the children about how to protest if they think something is wrong.
Is that American? I think so. In an art class we talk about government and ethics and politics. Is that not Higher Order Thinking Skills? Are we dumbing down our curriculum or are we asking our children to THINK?
The board meeting was a painted pony affair. I was actually on the news at five and ten looking very cold as I held up my sign that said "Unity in Effort, Pride in Results" which is our school mantra. The meeting itself was laborious. Our school was not on the agenda, but our warriors were present to the dismay of our Glorious Leader. I saw a student that I took to task a few months ago for acting "ghetto." I had told her that she was a world class kid and that she should be a force for good rather than a voice for chaos. I saw her take up the microphone and be a passionate and viable voice. I have rarely been so proud of a student.
At school, I saw a kid with his hands down his pants. I went to wash my hands in a classroom I have half the time and there was a kid in a restricted area with his hands down his pants moving them about. I was offended. I'm sorry, but if one is over the age of five, there is no reason that will allow one to stick hands down the pants in public. That's rude. In fact, that's just nasty. I do not want to have to see teenage boys with their hands inserted in their pants. I may be old (and growing older) but I cannot see any reason why a high school aged young gentleman should have his hands shoved into his pants. I don't care if he is cold. That's just nasty.
I had to deal with foul children today. I don't know why they think being defiant makes them grown. It bites them on the ass almost every time. I fight the evil doers. I fight the chaos bringers. I threaten the gangland princess.
I just picked up book 8. I found it in the closet while I was looking for Sense and Sensibility. It takes a Village by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I'm not very far into it. So far I've learned that she has yearning motherly feelings for her offspring (go figure) and that she is a second generation American. Most of what I've read so far is said from my own heart. How can she say so well what I think and feel everyday?
Mark was watching the news today. He said that they were interviewing voters from around NY. The Harlem voters were strong for Clinton (DOH, I think the neighbors like Bill very well) and some woman in The Bronx said she would vote for Obama because he is black. Holy Criminee! Why would the news show that? That's horribly racist. I could say that I want to vote for John McCain because he's WHITE. How ignorant and racist would that be? I like McCain, I think he's a nice fellow and he espouses views that I can appreciate, but I have this concern that he was in a POW camp for five years and might have PTSD in a major freaking way. How could he NOT have PTSD as it is a major concern of war veterans. I don't know if I would want a president who was prone to US Military Induced Mental Illness.
Is that wrong?
My mother and I have squabbed over politics the last several years. We do not see things the same way. We see each other with much love and regard, but apparently our bottom line differs. We agree that it is a chore to find someone to vote "for" rather than against. I asked her once if there was ever a clear choice and she said it was more like a choice for lesser evils.
Mom, I love you for my life. I love you for just about every other reason known to man. You are the best person I've ever known.
At the end of the day, I ask myself every time I vote, I ask "Am I better off now than I was four years ago."
I would have to say no. Last time I also said no.
I'm talking about my brown bag of groceries. I've lost weight during this presidency. I should thank George Bush for the fact that I've gotten back into my "skinny clothes." It's not because I've gone to Weight Watchers, it's because I've given up a lot of meals that I can't afford to have.
I can't lose much more weight. At some point I appear gaunt.
I anxiously await the Super Tuesday results. I talked to a government teacher today and he said this one was for the democrats to lose. I cannot claim a party affiliation. I am an American. Bottom Line full blooded mutt.
I won't vote for McCain because he's white. Hmm. Wait, that's a horrible racist remark. I don't think I will vote for McCain because I have a fear that he may be crazy (one hears about all those soldier fellows). I won't vote for Obama because he just doesn't have enough experience. Also, he creeps me out when I watch him on TV. He's unseasoned.
That leaves me Mitt and Hillary. Who is the third party candidate? I've voted green and independent for as long as I can remember. I voted for John Anderson. I voted for Ross Perot. I voted for Ralph Nader. I voted for Bill. I didn't vote for any Bush. Forgive me Mom. The republicans have not helped me.
I do not claim a party affiliation. I am an American. I vote my heart.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Book 7 2008
I decided to pick up the other Jane Austen. I've got a volume of the complete novels plus Lady Susan but I'd just never read the shorter piece.
This book was one I picked up at Barnes and Noble the other day. This one is called Lady Susan, The Watsons and Sanditon.
Today has been one of my low key Saturdays spent in pajamas. I really should have gone to the doctor. I just did not want to get dressed. I may have to go to the doc in the box tomorrow. I've got a nice ear infection which perforated last night. I feel for small children and understand why they cry.
I just don't understand why I started getting ear infections at 45. I was never prone to them before. Not freaking fair. Gin had one for her first birthday and I think did not get another until 23. Rachael was never prone to them, but she and Gin and I all got one within 3 weeks of each other. It's making me crazy.
Today was "gronk" movie day, but we seemed to go for the romantic comedy. Mark has loved having the DVR that we got last year and has recorded all kinds of stuff. He started recording Designing Women for me because he knew that I enjoyed it. Today "Mannequin" was on which we have seen a million times, but not since we've watched so many Designing Women episodes. He wanted to see Mesach Taylor in a new light. It was fun.
I guess we are returning to some gronk. Batman Returns is on and there is lots of bang bang blow em up stuff going on (you can tell I really pay attention).
Mark did indulge me and we watched the last bit of Miss America. I read an article that details the decline of the show. I remember the glory days of Phyllis George and Shirley Cothran (both from Denton). And that really cute girl from Conway, Arkansas. Tonight's show was reminiscent of every reality show that is currently on TV. Miss Texas did some weird kind of jazz-ballet thing. It's hard to be objective with dancers as we've given birth to one, and Mark is the child of another.
I think my girl is every bit as good if not better than the girl I saw perform tonight. (not that I'm biased.
I'm diving in. I'm really thrilled that I've put to bed 7 books to bed already in 2008. That gives me some fudge room for book #8 which has 1060 pages. It will take me a while. I hope I can finish it before March 1.
I've been steadily rabble rousing and will continue to do so over the next week. More will be revealed!
This book was one I picked up at Barnes and Noble the other day. This one is called Lady Susan, The Watsons and Sanditon.
Today has been one of my low key Saturdays spent in pajamas. I really should have gone to the doctor. I just did not want to get dressed. I may have to go to the doc in the box tomorrow. I've got a nice ear infection which perforated last night. I feel for small children and understand why they cry.
I just don't understand why I started getting ear infections at 45. I was never prone to them before. Not freaking fair. Gin had one for her first birthday and I think did not get another until 23. Rachael was never prone to them, but she and Gin and I all got one within 3 weeks of each other. It's making me crazy.
Today was "gronk" movie day, but we seemed to go for the romantic comedy. Mark has loved having the DVR that we got last year and has recorded all kinds of stuff. He started recording Designing Women for me because he knew that I enjoyed it. Today "Mannequin" was on which we have seen a million times, but not since we've watched so many Designing Women episodes. He wanted to see Mesach Taylor in a new light. It was fun.
I guess we are returning to some gronk. Batman Returns is on and there is lots of bang bang blow em up stuff going on (you can tell I really pay attention).
Mark did indulge me and we watched the last bit of Miss America. I read an article that details the decline of the show. I remember the glory days of Phyllis George and Shirley Cothran (both from Denton). And that really cute girl from Conway, Arkansas. Tonight's show was reminiscent of every reality show that is currently on TV. Miss Texas did some weird kind of jazz-ballet thing. It's hard to be objective with dancers as we've given birth to one, and Mark is the child of another.
I think my girl is every bit as good if not better than the girl I saw perform tonight. (not that I'm biased.
I'm diving in. I'm really thrilled that I've put to bed 7 books to bed already in 2008. That gives me some fudge room for book #8 which has 1060 pages. It will take me a while. I hope I can finish it before March 1.
I've been steadily rabble rousing and will continue to do so over the next week. More will be revealed!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Book 6 2008
Today I saw my gradebook. I saw papers that less than thrilled me. I'm just astonished that students think their teachers are so stupid. They share information on a take home assignment and I can see the degradation and transcription errors that mount.
Holy Sepulchre became Tidy Sepulchre. Minaret became minoerots. Through four students' chapter handouts, I could see who copied whom. When asked to define "anchorite" one kid thought for himself and said "I think it is some kind of rock." I sure like that better than having a triptych defined as a triglyph. JESUS can't they READ? I admit that the words are similar, but a lot of words are similar. From and Form are very similar but they don't mean the same thing. Flautist and Flatulist look similar but there is a big difference between playing the flute and performing with farts.
Things are such a big mess. The Powers That Be are trying to rid our school of excellent components. It's hard to educate children in a large urban district. I cannot imagine having to administer 165000 students. Still, do you break what's working? /me screams from the peanut gallery "NOOOOOOOO"
My friend StarVenus is more radical. She advocates interaction between large knives and testicles. She gets really creative when she gets wound up. I admire her creativity with regard to such things. It makes me feel better sometimes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
I continue my reading quest for the year. I just finished book #6. It was FUN. Very early Jane Austen that wasn't published until 1922. It's very superficial and juvenile, fraught with misspelled words and unique situations.
My favorite bit of text. . . Sophia to Laura "Beware of swoons, Dear Laura... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is, I dare say, conducive to Health in its consequences -- Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint --"
Full Text is available here!
I need to check Librivox to see if they have it. I've enjoyed downloading audio books from them. I love it that all the public domain stuff is free. I'm a geek for 19th century BritLit and have put some of them on my ipod to listen to so I can fall asleep with stories.
I'm trying to decide if I want to gain more on my goal of reading a book a week in 2008 and pick up the other Jane Austen I got the other day or if I want to delve into A Feast for Crows which will surely take me a month (knowing how much time I get to read any given day).
I like to read in the car. Especially if Mark is driving. He thinks it is rude of me. I think it saves me from palpitations. He IS a good driver, but he scares the crap out of me (along with the other nuts driving on highways around Dallas) so I ride much more comfortably if I can focus on something other than where we are going. He wants me to pay attention to him (he's glorious) and I understand that I should. I just want to postpone a cardiac arrest. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, and doesn't scream near as many profanities, but I can remember saying that he would piss someone on the road off and they would shoot ME. I do recall that yahoo in the pickup that showed us his gun!!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rachael had a birthday Saturday. I didn't do an angstful diatribe about her origin on her birthday. Rachael sets her own time to do what Rachael wants. I needed to wait until I was ready!
She cut off her hair! I got it in a priority mail package. I guess that was the gentlest way she could say "Hey Mom, I cut all my hair off." I've just been aghast. She hasn't had short hair since she had hair.
I got this picture in my mind of what her short darker dyed hair would look like. When I saw her Monday, it looked exactly what I thought it would look like. It's astonishing. I tried to imagine her with short dark hair (I knew there would be some red in the dark) and that's what it looked like. She looks fabulous. She looks an awful lot like my mother. (That's a REALLY good thing!)
She really should have been born on January 17. It would have made so many people happy for her to have that birthday. It was my great-grandmother's birthday AND my grandmother's birthday and they were both still living at the time, but NOOOO, the damn Polish doctor refuses to induce a pregnancy that is over two weeks late already. He tells me to wait until Monday.
Rachael is on Rachael time. Sunday morning, she makes it apparent that Monday is not for her. The zodiac is racing towards Aquarius and that will just not do. Our neighbors had offered to watch older sisters when the time came but they were Godly people and were at church. Mark frantically calls his folks and TELLS them that we've got to drop the girls off because we've GOT to go to the hospital. They seemed to be inconvenienced by this, but I didn't really care at this point. We get to the hospital about 11 am and the place is empty. There is a big playoff game, I mean it's Sunday. They make me walk around for an hour thinking that they can send me home (at 20 days overdue) with false labor. It doesn't work out for them and they have to admit me. They don't believe me when I tell them that it will all go very fast after a certain point. The whole wonderful birthing experience is a comedy of errors. Rachael is posterior, and suddenly turns around on her way into the world. That's not terrible but she falls off the fetal monitors and the nurses think she's died and are talking about preparation for a "fetal demise." The doctor has gone downstairs to eat and a nurse is running through the hallways trying to find someone with a catcher's mitt. Mark is freaking out because he hears the nurses and he's caught the word "demise." I hold his hand and say "baby, it's okay, I can feel her moving."
I don't think it's supposed to work that way. He's supposed to hold my hand and tell ME it's okay.
Rachael precipitates her way into the world right after kickoff. They put her on the warming table and she immediately turns over, almost flipping herself onto the floor because they didn't put the little gate thing up (I guess newborns flipping over isn't usually an issue). The doctor said "put that in her baby book."
Rachael continues to do what she wants to do. She knows her own mind. She is an unstoppable force and gives notice to the immovable wall.
How cool is that?
Holy Sepulchre became Tidy Sepulchre. Minaret became minoerots. Through four students' chapter handouts, I could see who copied whom. When asked to define "anchorite" one kid thought for himself and said "I think it is some kind of rock." I sure like that better than having a triptych defined as a triglyph. JESUS can't they READ? I admit that the words are similar, but a lot of words are similar. From and Form are very similar but they don't mean the same thing. Flautist and Flatulist look similar but there is a big difference between playing the flute and performing with farts.
Things are such a big mess. The Powers That Be are trying to rid our school of excellent components. It's hard to educate children in a large urban district. I cannot imagine having to administer 165000 students. Still, do you break what's working? /me screams from the peanut gallery "NOOOOOOOO"
My friend StarVenus is more radical. She advocates interaction between large knives and testicles. She gets really creative when she gets wound up. I admire her creativity with regard to such things. It makes me feel better sometimes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
I continue my reading quest for the year. I just finished book #6. It was FUN. Very early Jane Austen that wasn't published until 1922. It's very superficial and juvenile, fraught with misspelled words and unique situations.
My favorite bit of text. . . Sophia to Laura "Beware of swoons, Dear Laura... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is, I dare say, conducive to Health in its consequences -- Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint --"
Full Text is available here!
I need to check Librivox to see if they have it. I've enjoyed downloading audio books from them. I love it that all the public domain stuff is free. I'm a geek for 19th century BritLit and have put some of them on my ipod to listen to so I can fall asleep with stories.
I'm trying to decide if I want to gain more on my goal of reading a book a week in 2008 and pick up the other Jane Austen I got the other day or if I want to delve into A Feast for Crows which will surely take me a month (knowing how much time I get to read any given day).
I like to read in the car. Especially if Mark is driving. He thinks it is rude of me. I think it saves me from palpitations. He IS a good driver, but he scares the crap out of me (along with the other nuts driving on highways around Dallas) so I ride much more comfortably if I can focus on something other than where we are going. He wants me to pay attention to him (he's glorious) and I understand that I should. I just want to postpone a cardiac arrest. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, and doesn't scream near as many profanities, but I can remember saying that he would piss someone on the road off and they would shoot ME. I do recall that yahoo in the pickup that showed us his gun!!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rachael had a birthday Saturday. I didn't do an angstful diatribe about her origin on her birthday. Rachael sets her own time to do what Rachael wants. I needed to wait until I was ready!
She cut off her hair! I got it in a priority mail package. I guess that was the gentlest way she could say "Hey Mom, I cut all my hair off." I've just been aghast. She hasn't had short hair since she had hair.
I got this picture in my mind of what her short darker dyed hair would look like. When I saw her Monday, it looked exactly what I thought it would look like. It's astonishing. I tried to imagine her with short dark hair (I knew there would be some red in the dark) and that's what it looked like. She looks fabulous. She looks an awful lot like my mother. (That's a REALLY good thing!)
She really should have been born on January 17. It would have made so many people happy for her to have that birthday. It was my great-grandmother's birthday AND my grandmother's birthday and they were both still living at the time, but NOOOO, the damn Polish doctor refuses to induce a pregnancy that is over two weeks late already. He tells me to wait until Monday.
Rachael is on Rachael time. Sunday morning, she makes it apparent that Monday is not for her. The zodiac is racing towards Aquarius and that will just not do. Our neighbors had offered to watch older sisters when the time came but they were Godly people and were at church. Mark frantically calls his folks and TELLS them that we've got to drop the girls off because we've GOT to go to the hospital. They seemed to be inconvenienced by this, but I didn't really care at this point. We get to the hospital about 11 am and the place is empty. There is a big playoff game, I mean it's Sunday. They make me walk around for an hour thinking that they can send me home (at 20 days overdue) with false labor. It doesn't work out for them and they have to admit me. They don't believe me when I tell them that it will all go very fast after a certain point. The whole wonderful birthing experience is a comedy of errors. Rachael is posterior, and suddenly turns around on her way into the world. That's not terrible but she falls off the fetal monitors and the nurses think she's died and are talking about preparation for a "fetal demise." The doctor has gone downstairs to eat and a nurse is running through the hallways trying to find someone with a catcher's mitt. Mark is freaking out because he hears the nurses and he's caught the word "demise." I hold his hand and say "baby, it's okay, I can feel her moving."
I don't think it's supposed to work that way. He's supposed to hold my hand and tell ME it's okay.
Rachael precipitates her way into the world right after kickoff. They put her on the warming table and she immediately turns over, almost flipping herself onto the floor because they didn't put the little gate thing up (I guess newborns flipping over isn't usually an issue). The doctor said "put that in her baby book."
Rachael continues to do what she wants to do. She knows her own mind. She is an unstoppable force and gives notice to the immovable wall.
How cool is that?
Monday, January 21, 2008
Looking at the world from different angles
I saw some ducks today. James was in the back seat and he hollered that there were turkeys by the road. They were strange looking ducks. I wish I had a camera. The coloring was similar to mallards that are certainly familiar to me, but their heads reminded me of turkeys. I commented that the prettier colored one was likely the male, but Mark insisted that it was about to lay an egg.
It actually turned its derriere to us and pooped.
This charming creature should not be this far north according to the article.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I finished book #5 for 2008 today. Flatland by Edwin Abbott. It is more than a hundred years old and quite peculiar. It details the existence of beings in a two dimensional world. It's hard to imagine a society where social status is determined by the number of one's angles, AND the regularity of those angles.
I've seen this book go by several times when we've gotten a load of books, but I never bothered to read it. It isn't very long, but it is most profound in many ways.
We finally made it over to Barnes and Noble so I could use the gift certificate that Mark got me for Christmas. My main intent was to get the next George R. R. Martin book (which I did), but I also picked up two collections of the shorter works of Jane Austen. I've been making Mark watch Masterpiece Theater which is presenting the novels of Jane Austen. He likes Jane Austen, in fact he read Pride and Prejudice in high school and loved it. I was married to him before I got around to it. I do love it, it has become one of my favorite books. I have the complete novels, but I've not read the shorter pieces. So I guess I know what book number six will be!
I spoke with the "English connection" yesterday, and had a lovely conversation. We nattered on about our silly game and related folks. I spoke to Neil briefly which is always nice. It sounds like it has been warmer in the UK than it has been in Texas. Darnit!
It's been so cold. I've really noticed because I made a new year's resolution to NOT smoke inside the house. It's been miserable outside, and the good thing is that our porch is open to the south and east and doesn't get much wind. I don't know what I'd do if I was on the block behind us with the opposite situation. Probably quit smoking. Hmmm. I have cut down quite a bit so I guess that's an improvement.
I also resolved to get rid of clothes that don't fit me any more. I did pull some things out of the closet last week before bulky trash, but there is a lot more to go. Good intentions et al. . . .
I resolve to stay in the size I'm wearing now!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Book 4 2008
Okay, I'm trying to stop sniffling. I just finished Merle's Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog. I was a little ambivalent about starting it. I mean, I don't do non fiction, and I couldn't imagine wanting to read a book about a dog. The book was a gift from my friend Jane, and because I believe that she wouldn't steer me wrong, I took a leap of faith and opened it up.
I was sucked in very quickly. The author is apparently some sort of nature and outdoorsy writer and in this book he tells the story of an amazing dog that adopted him. Within the book he discusses Merle's behavior living in a community where a dog can run free. He brings in the research of many learned folks who studied canine behavior and applied what he learned from his study to what he learned from Merle.
The story is more than touching, quite engaging and well worth the read. Thank you Jane! I wouldn't have missed this for anything.
Today, well, I'll come back to that-- yesterday however. . . . .
Last night I saw 700 people gather at the PTA meeting at our school. Our district is trying to do some less than favorable things to our school for misguided reasons. The turn out last night was a pretty good indication. It was marvelous to see so many parents there. There was standing room only. I saw people that I know speak and I heard people that I don't know speak. It's likely to be a battle of some duration. I hope the folks in charge realize that they are misguided. We'll see.
Today was pretty humdrum until after finals. We met in the library so that the kids could practice their speeches and interviews. They were so funny as they wandered around the library speaking to themselves, trying to get the speeches memorized. They've got two more days to have them letter perfect. We will see. . .
I'm not sure yet what book 5 will be. I'm looking around a bit.
Who am I kidding? I'm still sniffling.
I was sucked in very quickly. The author is apparently some sort of nature and outdoorsy writer and in this book he tells the story of an amazing dog that adopted him. Within the book he discusses Merle's behavior living in a community where a dog can run free. He brings in the research of many learned folks who studied canine behavior and applied what he learned from his study to what he learned from Merle.
The story is more than touching, quite engaging and well worth the read. Thank you Jane! I wouldn't have missed this for anything.
Today, well, I'll come back to that-- yesterday however. . . . .
Last night I saw 700 people gather at the PTA meeting at our school. Our district is trying to do some less than favorable things to our school for misguided reasons. The turn out last night was a pretty good indication. It was marvelous to see so many parents there. There was standing room only. I saw people that I know speak and I heard people that I don't know speak. It's likely to be a battle of some duration. I hope the folks in charge realize that they are misguided. We'll see.
Today was pretty humdrum until after finals. We met in the library so that the kids could practice their speeches and interviews. They were so funny as they wandered around the library speaking to themselves, trying to get the speeches memorized. They've got two more days to have them letter perfect. We will see. . .
I'm not sure yet what book 5 will be. I'm looking around a bit.
Who am I kidding? I'm still sniffling.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Actually 26 years ago just about right now I was wandering about downstairs
at my mother's house saying, "Mom, I think we need to go pick up Mark and
get to the hospital."
There was an ice storm going on and the roads were coated with about an inch
of ice. In Dallas that is doom.
Mom was putzing about upstairs and I stalked around downstairs getting very
impatient.
She hollered down that we could go ahead to the hospital and she'd pick up
Mark later.
I wasn't buying that. He had already called me three times and wanted to
know where the hell we were.
I just had this funny feeling that my mother would get me there and not
leave and pick him up, so I was adamant.
I should explain that my mother is 37 minutes behind the rest of the world.
She missed my high school graduation (I was 22 out of 701 to graduate)
because she was looking for a parking place. She would have missed my
wedding but I lied to her about what time it was. I very nearly missed my
college graduation because she was driving.
We piled into the car and crawled across North Dallas in the ice. She drove
very well and poor Mark was standing at the curb freezing
his ass off waiting for us about 2 am. We piled him in and finally made it
over to Medical City. It was 14 degrees.
Virginia arrived at 6:18 am. That was her time, and she was sticking to it.
Officially she was due Dec 21. This made her three weeks late. My doctor
argued with me, saying I must have miscalculated, but I knew my window of
exposure and she was three weeks late. After her grand arrival, all of the
medical folks looked at her and said "this baby is overdue, she's post-term"
DOH. Like I didn't know already? Virginia didn't care. She does things when
she wants to do things and I suppose that includes being born.
My first and greatest artwork is 26 according to the calendar, but
officially there are still a few hours of early morning to go by. . .
I wish I could see her today. I think of her across the pond in her almost
6 month marriage and I am joyful that she is so happily settled.
(jaws theme music interlude)
I hear that Virginia and Neil may want to start a family soon, so I may be hoping for the
next generation of artwork. Who am I fooling, I can't wait. I want it to be
on their own time, but I do wait with bated breath. . .
I wax poetic. I remember so clearly what I was doing so long ago at this
very moment.
How cool is that?
at my mother's house saying, "Mom, I think we need to go pick up Mark and
get to the hospital."
There was an ice storm going on and the roads were coated with about an inch
of ice. In Dallas that is doom.
Mom was putzing about upstairs and I stalked around downstairs getting very
impatient.
She hollered down that we could go ahead to the hospital and she'd pick up
Mark later.
I wasn't buying that. He had already called me three times and wanted to
know where the hell we were.
I just had this funny feeling that my mother would get me there and not
leave and pick him up, so I was adamant.
I should explain that my mother is 37 minutes behind the rest of the world.
She missed my high school graduation (I was 22 out of 701 to graduate)
because she was looking for a parking place. She would have missed my
wedding but I lied to her about what time it was. I very nearly missed my
college graduation because she was driving.
We piled into the car and crawled across North Dallas in the ice. She drove
very well and poor Mark was standing at the curb freezing
his ass off waiting for us about 2 am. We piled him in and finally made it
over to Medical City. It was 14 degrees.
Virginia arrived at 6:18 am. That was her time, and she was sticking to it.
Officially she was due Dec 21. This made her three weeks late. My doctor
argued with me, saying I must have miscalculated, but I knew my window of
exposure and she was three weeks late. After her grand arrival, all of the
medical folks looked at her and said "this baby is overdue, she's post-term"
DOH. Like I didn't know already? Virginia didn't care. She does things when
she wants to do things and I suppose that includes being born.
My first and greatest artwork is 26 according to the calendar, but
officially there are still a few hours of early morning to go by. . .
I wish I could see her today. I think of her across the pond in her almost
6 month marriage and I am joyful that she is so happily settled.
(jaws theme music interlude)
I hear that Virginia and Neil may want to start a family soon, so I may be hoping for the
next generation of artwork. Who am I fooling, I can't wait. I want it to be
on their own time, but I do wait with bated breath. . .
I wax poetic. I remember so clearly what I was doing so long ago at this
very moment.
How cool is that?
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Me Talk Pretty One Day
I've finished book #3 for 2008. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris is sarcastic, funny and sweet. I laughed out loud any number of times and will take one of these stories to my book club next week to read aloud.
I've already started #4. I'm moving pretty well for today only being the tenth. This book is a gift from my friend Jane. I would have never in a million years picked this one up. That's the beauty of friends that read. Sometimes they put something on your stack that you would have never thought about.
What did I see today? I saw my hands covered in graphite. I kept washing them, but part of the hazard of teaching a drawing assignment is that one continues to interact with dirty stuff.
I saw views from the video cameras in the hallways. My administrator was so excited that she hollered for Amy and I to come in and watch. I later had to go over to the discipline office and found our discipline administrator doing the same thing. She smiled and said "I may not retire this year if I've got this to watch!" Please, can we keep her? It would take three people to do her job.
I did have one unfortunate encounter. Why are children so silly. For some reason, they think that if they act really aggressive and obnoxious that they are grown. What they are is silly.
I only wrote one referral on the angel. It could have been four or five, but I didn't have the time. She's still in a heap o' trouble.
There is some excitement around school. There are rumors of a walk-out tomorrow. Some person high up the food chain decided that it would make some of the low performing schools better if the high performing clusters from our school were looted and sent across town. Who in their right mind would want their child to transfer to a low performing school? That's just nuts. The kids and parents are livid. I haven't talked to a single person that was in favor of such a move.
One more yahoo who has been promoted to his/her level of incompetence. (to quote my mother) It makes you wonder.
There are good things going on at school. We are working on things that will really make things better for everyone. Change is painful. Sometimes it is good. I'm planning for good.
I've already started #4. I'm moving pretty well for today only being the tenth. This book is a gift from my friend Jane. I would have never in a million years picked this one up. That's the beauty of friends that read. Sometimes they put something on your stack that you would have never thought about.
What did I see today? I saw my hands covered in graphite. I kept washing them, but part of the hazard of teaching a drawing assignment is that one continues to interact with dirty stuff.
I saw views from the video cameras in the hallways. My administrator was so excited that she hollered for Amy and I to come in and watch. I later had to go over to the discipline office and found our discipline administrator doing the same thing. She smiled and said "I may not retire this year if I've got this to watch!" Please, can we keep her? It would take three people to do her job.
I did have one unfortunate encounter. Why are children so silly. For some reason, they think that if they act really aggressive and obnoxious that they are grown. What they are is silly.
I only wrote one referral on the angel. It could have been four or five, but I didn't have the time. She's still in a heap o' trouble.
There is some excitement around school. There are rumors of a walk-out tomorrow. Some person high up the food chain decided that it would make some of the low performing schools better if the high performing clusters from our school were looted and sent across town. Who in their right mind would want their child to transfer to a low performing school? That's just nuts. The kids and parents are livid. I haven't talked to a single person that was in favor of such a move.
One more yahoo who has been promoted to his/her level of incompetence. (to quote my mother) It makes you wonder.
There are good things going on at school. We are working on things that will really make things better for everyone. Change is painful. Sometimes it is good. I'm planning for good.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Book 2 2008
I finished book #2 for 2008 this evening. Wow, I think I'm ahead of 2007 by about three months.
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris is funny, irreverent and reminds us that we should be grateful not to have such a sibling. If I had such a brother, I would pour him into a column at the new Cowboy Stadium. I love Sedaris and I'm now reading another of his tomes which will hopefully become book #3 for 2008.
Today was interesting. The kids came back to school today and I saw some funky stuff. There were boys that had 3 different price tags hanging off their obviously new pants. I asked my art history kids about that. This engendered some lively discussion. Mr. Foster said that they were posers. He said that they got the pants at Burlington for thirty bucks and then took off the Burlington tag, leaving the original tag that says eighty bucks. This class meets in the library, and giggles greeted the site of ANOTHER boy walking by with tags swinging.
The kids seemed to agree that this was genuine poser behavior--trying to show that they spent way more money than they did and were willing to demonstrate this by leaving the price tags showing.
When I grew up, that was considered, well, tacky. Minnie Pearl made a statement with a price tag hanging from her hat. It was ludicrous.
I was still tripping about that when I caught up with my friend Mr. D. He said he'd noticed the same thing and as we drove up to 7-11 for our morning smoke and cup of coffee he informed me that some of our students were wearing six or seven hundred dollar outfits. I knew that some of the stuff looked pricey. That's just hard to stomach when the same kid says he can't afford a pencil for art class. I always ask to see their shoes when they say that crap. If they are wearing $200 shoes or have a cell phone or are carrying a Dooney or Coach bag then I fail at sympathy.
Mr. D. told me that some of them spent ridiculous amounts of money on stuff that they'd wear to school and then return to the store. He thought that's why they left the tags on. Regardless, it's pretty silly.
This afternoon we met to work on the school redesign project and it was really good. There was a large amount of enthusiasm and creative energy. I love it when that happens. It's invigorating!
More will be revealed!
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris is funny, irreverent and reminds us that we should be grateful not to have such a sibling. If I had such a brother, I would pour him into a column at the new Cowboy Stadium. I love Sedaris and I'm now reading another of his tomes which will hopefully become book #3 for 2008.
Today was interesting. The kids came back to school today and I saw some funky stuff. There were boys that had 3 different price tags hanging off their obviously new pants. I asked my art history kids about that. This engendered some lively discussion. Mr. Foster said that they were posers. He said that they got the pants at Burlington for thirty bucks and then took off the Burlington tag, leaving the original tag that says eighty bucks. This class meets in the library, and giggles greeted the site of ANOTHER boy walking by with tags swinging.
The kids seemed to agree that this was genuine poser behavior--trying to show that they spent way more money than they did and were willing to demonstrate this by leaving the price tags showing.
When I grew up, that was considered, well, tacky. Minnie Pearl made a statement with a price tag hanging from her hat. It was ludicrous.
I was still tripping about that when I caught up with my friend Mr. D. He said he'd noticed the same thing and as we drove up to 7-11 for our morning smoke and cup of coffee he informed me that some of our students were wearing six or seven hundred dollar outfits. I knew that some of the stuff looked pricey. That's just hard to stomach when the same kid says he can't afford a pencil for art class. I always ask to see their shoes when they say that crap. If they are wearing $200 shoes or have a cell phone or are carrying a Dooney or Coach bag then I fail at sympathy.
Mr. D. told me that some of them spent ridiculous amounts of money on stuff that they'd wear to school and then return to the store. He thought that's why they left the tags on. Regardless, it's pretty silly.
This afternoon we met to work on the school redesign project and it was really good. There was a large amount of enthusiasm and creative energy. I love it when that happens. It's invigorating!
More will be revealed!
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Book 1 2008
Book 1 of 2008 is done. I've worked on it for a couple of weeks as it was 1128 pages.
Tedious in places, it forwards a good story in the 3rd of a series called "A Song of Fire and Ice."
It's made me glad, made me sad and furious in some spots. George R. R. Martin cannot be relied upon to kill off a character. They have annoying way of showing back up alive. Just when you get used to a beloved character being gone, they pop up again like a persistent pimple.
I'm going to have to go to Borders tomorrow to get the next one. I asked for a book store gift certificate with the intent of getting it. I had pre-ordered A Feast For Crows from Amazon prior to its publication, but it never came and I never followed up. I had to start the series all over again to get back to where I was several years ago.
I like books that I like to re-read. I always get more from them in subsequent readings. Life gives me experiences to lend to the reading and the meaning changes.
It's only 9pm and I must pick up another book in the mean time. I'm horrible about reading part of a book before I pick up another one and I have have read tomes all over the place. Part of my goal in 2008 is to FINISH a book every week. My bookclub should be good for at least six of them. I look around and my eyes settle on the book my friend Jane gave me for Christmas. Perhaps I can gobble it up and get back to Feast For Crows before I've forgotten the story line. I still need to read a David Sedaris book for book club. Oooooo, which one? (goes and digs in the headboard of the bed) Okay, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim I've not read it yet, so I guess it's the lucky winner.
More will be revealed. . . .
Tedious in places, it forwards a good story in the 3rd of a series called "A Song of Fire and Ice."
It's made me glad, made me sad and furious in some spots. George R. R. Martin cannot be relied upon to kill off a character. They have annoying way of showing back up alive. Just when you get used to a beloved character being gone, they pop up again like a persistent pimple.
I'm going to have to go to Borders tomorrow to get the next one. I asked for a book store gift certificate with the intent of getting it. I had pre-ordered A Feast For Crows from Amazon prior to its publication, but it never came and I never followed up. I had to start the series all over again to get back to where I was several years ago.
I like books that I like to re-read. I always get more from them in subsequent readings. Life gives me experiences to lend to the reading and the meaning changes.
It's only 9pm and I must pick up another book in the mean time. I'm horrible about reading part of a book before I pick up another one and I have have read tomes all over the place. Part of my goal in 2008 is to FINISH a book every week. My bookclub should be good for at least six of them. I look around and my eyes settle on the book my friend Jane gave me for Christmas. Perhaps I can gobble it up and get back to Feast For Crows before I've forgotten the story line. I still need to read a David Sedaris book for book club. Oooooo, which one? (goes and digs in the headboard of the bed) Okay, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim I've not read it yet, so I guess it's the lucky winner.
More will be revealed. . . .
I didn't see much, I hid on the porch
I've been laying low. I count a good weekend as one that I don't get out of my jammies
We are starting a new year. I have a few small goals.
I'm not going to smoke inside my house. I've gone outside to the porch to smoke. I don't want Rachael and Becca to gripe that their clothes smell like smoke when they come home to do laundry.
I'm going to rid myself of any clothes that do not fit. My closet bar is drooping. Mostly because I value the books better.
I want to read a book a week. I'm at the end of a nice one. A Storm of Swords. I want to finish it tomorrow and get the next one in the series.
I cringe at this time. I am shy. I don't want to talk to anyone. I DO want to talk to folks I knew back when. I'm so lucky that some of them are talking to me.
Woo Hooo, happy new year.
Please be kind. Be kind to one another.
SQ
We are starting a new year. I have a few small goals.
I'm not going to smoke inside my house. I've gone outside to the porch to smoke. I don't want Rachael and Becca to gripe that their clothes smell like smoke when they come home to do laundry.
I'm going to rid myself of any clothes that do not fit. My closet bar is drooping. Mostly because I value the books better.
I want to read a book a week. I'm at the end of a nice one. A Storm of Swords. I want to finish it tomorrow and get the next one in the series.
I cringe at this time. I am shy. I don't want to talk to anyone. I DO want to talk to folks I knew back when. I'm so lucky that some of them are talking to me.
Woo Hooo, happy new year.
Please be kind. Be kind to one another.
SQ
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Education in America Today
Part of a rant to a long, long, long time friend. . .
"Some major school shit is about to go down around here.
"Some major school shit is about to go down around here.
Thank the shrubbery for leaving no child behind. I guess one reader in the
family is enough.
family is enough.
I just don't understand why they want to slap ineffective bandaids on
things. Children learn critical thinking skills from fine arts education.
If children can't read, they can't solve math problems. Music teaches math.
Art teaches thinking. Reading makes the brain grow exponentially.
things. Children learn critical thinking skills from fine arts education.
If children can't read, they can't solve math problems. Music teaches math.
Art teaches thinking. Reading makes the brain grow exponentially.
The masks are wonderful and amazing. Any school should be proud to
produce such artwork. Funding helps.
produce such artwork. Funding helps.
I got supplies this week. Construction paper and pencils and glue and
erasers and markers and drawing paper. Really basic stuff. I've done
without until this week. We are expected to produce museum quality
work on a bucket of broken crayon budget. It's fucking sick. Pardon my
perfectly fine anglo saxon.
erasers and markers and drawing paper. Really basic stuff. I've done
without until this week. We are expected to produce museum quality
work on a bucket of broken crayon budget. It's fucking sick. Pardon my
perfectly fine anglo saxon.
(You gotta love those anglo saxons for so many meaty BAD words)
I'm on a committee to restructure the largest high school
in Texas. The THEORY is good. Let me tell you a joke about
that. . .
in Texas. The THEORY is good. Let me tell you a joke about
that. . .
A young boy went to his father and asked, "Dad, what's the
difference between theory and reality?"
"Well, son, the best way to explain this is a practical exercise.
Go ask your Mom if she'd sleep with a stranger a million dollars
and come tell me her answer.
The boy returned and said, " She said she would, Dad." "OK,"
replied the father, "Go ask your sister the same question."
The boy returned and said that his sister also answered yes to the
question and then asked his Dad, "What's this got to do with theory
and reality?"
"It's simple, son. In theory, we live with millionaires.
In reality, we live with a couple of sluts."
In theory, we have really good schools that produce exemplary students
ready to graduate and attend college. In reality, we uns is in the
hood getting jiggy on the low down. I fin da do dat, crunk.Educating in America today is more challenging than it has ever been.
We're supposed to work miracles with damaged goods. You and I were lucky
to grow up
in an environment that valued education. Jayzus, you had valedictory trophys
sitting on your TV from older sisters. My mother was salutatorian. You and
I did really well in an intensely intellectually gifted crowd. We had
parents who did not see college as an option, but as a requirement. We
feel that way for our own children.The urban education system today provides us with 3rd generation welfare
mentality. I have students who are parents who have grandmothers who are
younger than I am. I heard a child say "My momma don't care if I have a
nother baby because we get a check."We have children who are or have parents who are not in this country legally.
These parents are terrified to come to school and deal with any kind of
authority. Often these parents are tremendously undereducated. It's kind
of hard to justify the purchase of textbooks for seventh grade if there are
ten kids in the family and food is scarce. We have students whose parents have learned to make money on the "dark side."
I have barrio princesses who have lots of gold jewelry and spend thirty bucks
every two weeks to have their nails done. Do their school work? What a silly
thought. They are killing time because the law says they have to be in school
until they are 18. They're going to get married to some other high dollar drug
dealing vato and have lots of pretty babies whenever babydaddy is not in lockup.
I have gangland "princes" wearing their gold and diamond encrusted "grills" who
cannot bring a pencil to art class. Values are skewed.
Education is going to breed different classes. We are going to have folks that
value education and we are going to have a vast undereducated
class that doesn't care less about school and the value of a free and public
education. I'm still tripping about the lady at 7-11 the other day. She saw my teacher ID
on my lanyard and said "I HATE teachers, they make me sick."I wanted to say something pithy like "I hope you want your children to be gangstas"
I ask my students, the girls especially about what kind of man they want to marry.
I ask them if they want a gangsta or a man with a briefcase. They tell me that they
want to marry doctors and lawyers. I ask them where they are going to meet doctors
and lawyers apart from the free clinic and legal aid. They somehow think that
there are fairy godmothers out there that will turn them into Jennifer Lopez and
put them in the pathway of Matthew Mcconaughey. Somehow they think lightning will
strike them because they KNOW they are all so special because we've told them for
years that they are all so special (because we didn't want to damage their fragile
little psyches)I have faith that a few will move on. One girl that I questioned so asked me what
job she could do that would put her around lots of lawyers. I told her she could
be a court reporter. That's a nice income and it certainly comes in contact with
lots of legal eagle types. She did the research and came back to me and said that
she thought that was a really nice career and that her mother was real excited
about it. She's lovely and pretty darn smart. She's in court reporter school and
in a year and a half she will be the cutest court reporter in Dallas County. At
least her mother had a vision of something beyond "do you want fries with that?"Kelly, I think I need to put this rant on my blog. I love you for provoking me to
write. Come to think of it, you did often give me inspiration. I'm looking forward
to our pub crawl."Hugs, SQ
Happy Birthday Becca
24 years ago today Rebecca was born. She's grown tall and lovely and brilliant.
At school, I hugged a neighboring teacher who has a birthday also today.
I tell her it is my daughter's birthday and she says it is no wonder that
we get along. Ms. E. is one of the nicest people and she's a good neighbor.
I forgot for a small time that it was her birthday also and told her I was
wracked with the memory of being in labor and cursing my sweet hubby.
She forgave me. In my mind, I recall the day 24 years ago in some detail.
I remember the doctor coming in and looking at the oxytocin drip and
him cranking it up a LOT to help me expel this child. She was so small. She
was my tiniest baby. She was so pink and so annoyed that the world
was messing with her. Her main concerns were eating and sleeping. Not
much has changed in 24 years.
I have to ask myself, what did I see today? What can I be a primary source for?
I saw plaid boxer shorts. A fellow teacher was getting after one of his
students for sagging too low for common courtesy. I told the kid I didn't want
to see his underwear and he stated that HIS underwear was clean. I told
him that my underwear was clean also and that perhaps I should arrange
my slacks so that he would get to see my underwear. He was horrified. He
told me that he really did NOT want to see my underwear. I told him that I
didn't want to see his either. I cut him a piece of jute to make a belt to hold
his pants up.
"It's the style, Miss." That's what I hear. I think I will interview my classes
and ask them if it is okay for me to show my underwear to them. I don't
have any thongs, but I'm inspired to get one.
I'm thinking terribly wicked thoughts about how to further combat the sight
of teenage boy butt.
This evening I saw my beautiful daughter. I'm glad she was happy with our
gift to her. She looked lovely with her emerald pendant. We went for
sushi. That's what she wanted to do and the restaurant was beautiful
and pleasant and more up scale than we are used to. The food was out of
this world. I had trouble with the chopsticks, but I managed to eat enough.
The restaurant was beautiful, the service was delightful. I want to go back.
I want more of that fishy goodness.
Today was a wonderful day. I'm so proud of my lovely daughter.
I win.
At school, I hugged a neighboring teacher who has a birthday also today.
I tell her it is my daughter's birthday and she says it is no wonder that
we get along. Ms. E. is one of the nicest people and she's a good neighbor.
I forgot for a small time that it was her birthday also and told her I was
wracked with the memory of being in labor and cursing my sweet hubby.
She forgave me. In my mind, I recall the day 24 years ago in some detail.
I remember the doctor coming in and looking at the oxytocin drip and
him cranking it up a LOT to help me expel this child. She was so small. She
was my tiniest baby. She was so pink and so annoyed that the world
was messing with her. Her main concerns were eating and sleeping. Not
much has changed in 24 years.
I have to ask myself, what did I see today? What can I be a primary source for?
I saw plaid boxer shorts. A fellow teacher was getting after one of his
students for sagging too low for common courtesy. I told the kid I didn't want
to see his underwear and he stated that HIS underwear was clean. I told
him that my underwear was clean also and that perhaps I should arrange
my slacks so that he would get to see my underwear. He was horrified. He
told me that he really did NOT want to see my underwear. I told him that I
didn't want to see his either. I cut him a piece of jute to make a belt to hold
his pants up.
"It's the style, Miss." That's what I hear. I think I will interview my classes
and ask them if it is okay for me to show my underwear to them. I don't
have any thongs, but I'm inspired to get one.
I'm thinking terribly wicked thoughts about how to further combat the sight
of teenage boy butt.
This evening I saw my beautiful daughter. I'm glad she was happy with our
gift to her. She looked lovely with her emerald pendant. We went for
sushi. That's what she wanted to do and the restaurant was beautiful
and pleasant and more up scale than we are used to. The food was out of
this world. I had trouble with the chopsticks, but I managed to eat enough.
The restaurant was beautiful, the service was delightful. I want to go back.
I want more of that fishy goodness.
Today was a wonderful day. I'm so proud of my lovely daughter.
I win.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Hopping Across the Pond
Dateline: November 18, 2007
Mark and I anxiously went to DFW somewhat in advance of our flight to Gatwick.
We got there really early so that we could check in and then chill in
the international terminal.
It was fun. We went to the duty free shop and then went to the pub there
and had some spicy cheese and potato dish. We were sitting there eating
spicy cheese and potato thingies when we saw a fellow escorted by in handcuffs. I guess I'm glad if he was going to act badly and get on my plane.
I sure wondered what he did to get hauled off in such a way.
We saw this lovely blue glass enclosure that seemed to have a maze inside.
We saw people walking in concentric circles with studious intent upon their
faces. We had to go check it out and learned that there were lamps installed
in the floors that when activated began to emit some sort of chime or tone
that resonated with the glass. This was pretty cool and Mark and I wandered back and forth and set off as much noise as we could.
After looking at a terminal map, we learned that there was some other kind
of sculpture off on the other side. As we had time to kill, we wandered over.
It was some kind of wicked tilty fantasy house. We wandered around it and
I inspected the surface which was treated like David Smith Cubi sculpture.
The interior spaces were convoluted and the light wandered in with mysterious ways.
There was a candy shop that we passed several times. I gaze fondly at the yogurt covered everything and the varied gummy items. After about the first
pass I see IT. It is amazing and wonderful on a number of levels. After all,
we are going to see Virginia. She collects lunch boxes and we have gifted
her with any number of them over the years. It's a pink Hello Kitty Lunch Box. That may not mean much to a lot of folks but Virginia also has an affinity for Hello Kitty. I mean the woman had a Hello Kitty mousepad and stool. Well, in addition to that, it contained collector Hello Kitty Pez dispensers. It was a BINGO that screamed loud and large at two nostalgic parents. We bought it and packed it in the carry on bags.
Winding down, we go to sit at the gate and people watch.
I see African ministers carrying bibles. Two of them hook up and converse with much enthusiasm. I see people who don't want to be sociable. We're pretty friendly, so we just smile at them.
We see a fellow who bears an astonishing resemblance to Eric Clapton. To be frank we didn't put it together at the time, but I nudge Mark and say "That guy looks like some famous old rocker." Mark checks him out and agrees. He's obnoxious and says "Rock Star" somewhat loudly out of the side of his mouth and then acts all innocent. "Rock Star" turns around to see where it is coming from. I'm sitting right across from him so I just smile. He smiles back.
Mark and I cuss and discuss between us. We know this guy is someone that we should know, or at least is the spitting image of someone we recognize. We continue to chill and they start calling people for the flight. "Rock Star" turns to us and asks what time it is.
Two ladies and a baby stroller come up. The baby is wearing a really thick clear plastic helmet. They get to go on before us. I've never seen a baby wearing a plastic helmet like that so I figure it is for some medical thing I've not heard of.
I was good, I did the online check in thing exactly 24 hours before the flight which (on British Airways) gives us the option to pick our seats. I'm able to secure bulkhead seats which give us leg room. WOOHOO. It also puts us right by the toilet.
It's real interesting to see all the folks who come by to use the toilet. We saw "Rock Star" numerous times. He was sitting up in pricier seats than we had, but he came back for the facilities.
I learn the story of the baby in the helmet. He's a cute little guy. He was a year old last week. I asked the older lady if he was her grandbaby and she said he was a great-nephew. He's going home to the UK after a visit to a medical center in San Antonio. He apparently had some kind of condition that required skull surgery. What I got was that the prognosis was much better if the surgery was done at a tiny age before the fontanel closes. She said that the hospital in San Antonio was one of three in the world that worked on really young ones. She said that this brave fellow had been to San Antonio four times since he was born. He'd just been for a new helmet fitting. She told me that the surgery was not done in the UK until 18 months and that the mortality rate was frightening. I cannot imagine.
I'm in the middle seat between Mark and a fellow that was easily Mark's size. I was squished. The other gentleman sounded some variety of UK. Welsh maybe. Not English, not Scottish, not Irish, but still distinctly Brit of some kind. He was a pleasant seat companion. At one point I saw him thumbing through his passport. He had SO many stickers and stamps.
I had to allow to him that I was envious because I've had the darnedest time getting stamps in my passport. I don't CARE if they search my luggage if they stamp my passport. I got three stamps in one day in Frankfort in March and they started fussing at me for going in and out of controlled areas (I couldn't help it, I was trying to get 30 people from Frankfurt to Rome after missing a connection)
The kindly fellow looked at his passport and said kind of wistfully "Yes, I've traveled a lot in the last year." I saw stamps from places that I don't think I'd want to go. I hope he was headed home.
I really liked this direct flight to Gatwick. It seemed that we got there relatively quickly (for anyone that has flown across the pond). We had to walk quite a long way to get to where our luggage was. We passed up "Rock Star" and his limo driver who apparently had a much better deal about getting through customs. I think they knew where the "short" line was. I think the limo almost pulled up at the plane. Damn the luck.
We collected our bags and followed Virginia's directions. . . "Turn right and go to the trains. Get on the one to Bedford." We did exactly that, and at 11:30 am on Monday the 19th we got off the train to see the beautiful face of our daughter and the wonderful smile of the man who loves her.
More Adventures from Across the Pond to follow. . . .
Mark and I anxiously went to DFW somewhat in advance of our flight to Gatwick.
We got there really early so that we could check in and then chill in
the international terminal.
It was fun. We went to the duty free shop and then went to the pub there
and had some spicy cheese and potato dish. We were sitting there eating
spicy cheese and potato thingies when we saw a fellow escorted by in handcuffs. I guess I'm glad if he was going to act badly and get on my plane.
I sure wondered what he did to get hauled off in such a way.
We saw this lovely blue glass enclosure that seemed to have a maze inside.
We saw people walking in concentric circles with studious intent upon their
faces. We had to go check it out and learned that there were lamps installed
in the floors that when activated began to emit some sort of chime or tone
that resonated with the glass. This was pretty cool and Mark and I wandered back and forth and set off as much noise as we could.
After looking at a terminal map, we learned that there was some other kind
of sculpture off on the other side. As we had time to kill, we wandered over.
It was some kind of wicked tilty fantasy house. We wandered around it and
I inspected the surface which was treated like David Smith Cubi sculpture.
The interior spaces were convoluted and the light wandered in with mysterious ways.
There was a candy shop that we passed several times. I gaze fondly at the yogurt covered everything and the varied gummy items. After about the first
pass I see IT. It is amazing and wonderful on a number of levels. After all,
we are going to see Virginia. She collects lunch boxes and we have gifted
her with any number of them over the years. It's a pink Hello Kitty Lunch Box. That may not mean much to a lot of folks but Virginia also has an affinity for Hello Kitty. I mean the woman had a Hello Kitty mousepad and stool. Well, in addition to that, it contained collector Hello Kitty Pez dispensers. It was a BINGO that screamed loud and large at two nostalgic parents. We bought it and packed it in the carry on bags.
Winding down, we go to sit at the gate and people watch.
I see African ministers carrying bibles. Two of them hook up and converse with much enthusiasm. I see people who don't want to be sociable. We're pretty friendly, so we just smile at them.
We see a fellow who bears an astonishing resemblance to Eric Clapton. To be frank we didn't put it together at the time, but I nudge Mark and say "That guy looks like some famous old rocker." Mark checks him out and agrees. He's obnoxious and says "Rock Star" somewhat loudly out of the side of his mouth and then acts all innocent. "Rock Star" turns around to see where it is coming from. I'm sitting right across from him so I just smile. He smiles back.
Mark and I cuss and discuss between us. We know this guy is someone that we should know, or at least is the spitting image of someone we recognize. We continue to chill and they start calling people for the flight. "Rock Star" turns to us and asks what time it is.
Two ladies and a baby stroller come up. The baby is wearing a really thick clear plastic helmet. They get to go on before us. I've never seen a baby wearing a plastic helmet like that so I figure it is for some medical thing I've not heard of.
I was good, I did the online check in thing exactly 24 hours before the flight which (on British Airways) gives us the option to pick our seats. I'm able to secure bulkhead seats which give us leg room. WOOHOO. It also puts us right by the toilet.
It's real interesting to see all the folks who come by to use the toilet. We saw "Rock Star" numerous times. He was sitting up in pricier seats than we had, but he came back for the facilities.
I learn the story of the baby in the helmet. He's a cute little guy. He was a year old last week. I asked the older lady if he was her grandbaby and she said he was a great-nephew. He's going home to the UK after a visit to a medical center in San Antonio. He apparently had some kind of condition that required skull surgery. What I got was that the prognosis was much better if the surgery was done at a tiny age before the fontanel closes. She said that the hospital in San Antonio was one of three in the world that worked on really young ones. She said that this brave fellow had been to San Antonio four times since he was born. He'd just been for a new helmet fitting. She told me that the surgery was not done in the UK until 18 months and that the mortality rate was frightening. I cannot imagine.
I'm in the middle seat between Mark and a fellow that was easily Mark's size. I was squished. The other gentleman sounded some variety of UK. Welsh maybe. Not English, not Scottish, not Irish, but still distinctly Brit of some kind. He was a pleasant seat companion. At one point I saw him thumbing through his passport. He had SO many stickers and stamps.
I had to allow to him that I was envious because I've had the darnedest time getting stamps in my passport. I don't CARE if they search my luggage if they stamp my passport. I got three stamps in one day in Frankfort in March and they started fussing at me for going in and out of controlled areas (I couldn't help it, I was trying to get 30 people from Frankfurt to Rome after missing a connection)
The kindly fellow looked at his passport and said kind of wistfully "Yes, I've traveled a lot in the last year." I saw stamps from places that I don't think I'd want to go. I hope he was headed home.
I really liked this direct flight to Gatwick. It seemed that we got there relatively quickly (for anyone that has flown across the pond). We had to walk quite a long way to get to where our luggage was. We passed up "Rock Star" and his limo driver who apparently had a much better deal about getting through customs. I think they knew where the "short" line was. I think the limo almost pulled up at the plane. Damn the luck.
We collected our bags and followed Virginia's directions. . . "Turn right and go to the trains. Get on the one to Bedford." We did exactly that, and at 11:30 am on Monday the 19th we got off the train to see the beautiful face of our daughter and the wonderful smile of the man who loves her.
More Adventures from Across the Pond to follow. . . .
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Hava Nagila
I just went to the coolest wedding ever. Two of my former students who hooked up in my class got married tonight.
I coach Academic Decathlon and almost every year we have an "AcDec Romance" Well our AcDec Romance from 2001 got married tonight.
In March of 2000 we all went to France. So many of the folks that were there tonight were on that trip to France. The bride and groom were on the trip but they were not an item at that time. We had adventures. I had issues with the bride slamming four glasses of sauvignon blanc in about fifteen minutes. Her bridesmaid matched her but the bride got really sick. She was horribly sick the next day. The groom, theatrical person that he was, was part of a group of our kids who gathered on a sidewalk in Chartres singing about "Stupid Americans." It was really funny and people threw money in the hat.
In 2001, I had both these angels in two classes. Art History and Academic Decathlon. I didn't notice any particular chemistry until we went to the state meet in March. After that they were inseparable. They've been together ever since.
Tonight I witnessed the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended. I have never been to a Jewish wedding before but this was stunning. It was intimate and funny and everyone watching was involved. I've been to lots of weddings but I was a bystander, not a participant. Tonight I felt like I participated.
We pulled up to the venue and apparently entered through the back door. We didn't know that there was valet parking. Wine was being served from the get go. The reception started before the wedding. That was kind of cool. I visited with the bride who was the prettiest bride I ever saw. She hugged me so hard. I was lucky to have her all four years of high school. She was a delight. She told her bridesmaids that I was her second mother.
The wedding place was odd. It was in an incredibly quirky place not far from the jail. It looked very industrial from the outside, but the inside was filled with odd rooms that were decorated in eclectic ways. We got inside and it was wonderful. It was wonderland.
The groom wore pink converse high tops. This is typical of him. Well, I don't know about pink but he always wore converse high tops. The bride was in a gorgeous wedding gown. She was sublime.
I knew all of the parents involved and it was great to see them. It's just kind of funny to know that his mom and her mom are now related.
The ceremony was gorgeous. There were very many traditional elements that were enacted. There was a canopy and prayer shawls and they stomped the glass to everyone yelling "Mazeltov!!"
It was beautiful. I was happy to see so many people that I'd not seen in a few years. I was pleased to see two very favored students join themselves together. I cannot describe the look on the groom's face as he gazed into his new wife's eyes.
I hope I will be invited to the bris of their first son.
I coach Academic Decathlon and almost every year we have an "AcDec Romance" Well our AcDec Romance from 2001 got married tonight.
In March of 2000 we all went to France. So many of the folks that were there tonight were on that trip to France. The bride and groom were on the trip but they were not an item at that time. We had adventures. I had issues with the bride slamming four glasses of sauvignon blanc in about fifteen minutes. Her bridesmaid matched her but the bride got really sick. She was horribly sick the next day. The groom, theatrical person that he was, was part of a group of our kids who gathered on a sidewalk in Chartres singing about "Stupid Americans." It was really funny and people threw money in the hat.
In 2001, I had both these angels in two classes. Art History and Academic Decathlon. I didn't notice any particular chemistry until we went to the state meet in March. After that they were inseparable. They've been together ever since.
Tonight I witnessed the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended. I have never been to a Jewish wedding before but this was stunning. It was intimate and funny and everyone watching was involved. I've been to lots of weddings but I was a bystander, not a participant. Tonight I felt like I participated.
We pulled up to the venue and apparently entered through the back door. We didn't know that there was valet parking. Wine was being served from the get go. The reception started before the wedding. That was kind of cool. I visited with the bride who was the prettiest bride I ever saw. She hugged me so hard. I was lucky to have her all four years of high school. She was a delight. She told her bridesmaids that I was her second mother.
The wedding place was odd. It was in an incredibly quirky place not far from the jail. It looked very industrial from the outside, but the inside was filled with odd rooms that were decorated in eclectic ways. We got inside and it was wonderful. It was wonderland.
The groom wore pink converse high tops. This is typical of him. Well, I don't know about pink but he always wore converse high tops. The bride was in a gorgeous wedding gown. She was sublime.
I knew all of the parents involved and it was great to see them. It's just kind of funny to know that his mom and her mom are now related.
The ceremony was gorgeous. There were very many traditional elements that were enacted. There was a canopy and prayer shawls and they stomped the glass to everyone yelling "Mazeltov!!"
It was beautiful. I was happy to see so many people that I'd not seen in a few years. I was pleased to see two very favored students join themselves together. I cannot describe the look on the groom's face as he gazed into his new wife's eyes.
I hope I will be invited to the bris of their first son.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Babies
(sent to a friend in response to an email forward thing that involved Mother Theresa)
Dear Friend I Love you!
Dear Friend I Love you!
I didn't think so much of Mother Theresa. She caused a lot of people suffer that didn't need to suffer. I would not deny dying people morphine to let them be closer to God with their suffering. That does not follow my logic. I would not have denied my grandmother the only shot of morphine she took at the end of her liver cancer. I think she was plenty close to God. Mother Theresa did many wonderful things, but I guess I have some grudges. I wouldn't want to equate any amount of unnecessary suffering as something that my God would want. Maybe she has a different God than I do. The God of my understanding would not want people to suffer for no reason. My grandmother was plenty close to God her entire life and was one of the most profoundly Christian people I've ever known. The God I know would not have wanted her to feel any pain at all.
We leave the US in 13 days to go to England to see #1 and her new husband. We get to meet her inlaws and our new inlaws. The people that we hope to share grandchildren with in not so long a time. I'm ready. I WANT GRANDBABIES. I just wish that my only hope for grandbabies were not across the pond.
My cousin just had a beautiful baby in Denton. Maya Corinne *****. I think she was born 10/22, but I'm fuzzy now. My cousin is a photographer and the baby pictures that she has taken are amazing. Makes me proud of my cousin and her beautiful daughter.
I continue to wrestle the inner city youth. They need wrestling. I read in the paper today that Texas has the highest teenage birth rate. http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/110507dnmetteenbirths.35daddb.htmlThey said that 24% of the teen birth rate was second or more baby. I've had two kiddos (juniors) have a baby this year (both boys are gorgeous) and I've got two that are pregnant now (including a freshman that I just got as a transfer student from BA)
My last year at HHS I had a junior in my jewelry class. She was a special ed kid and she kind of did work as I could get her to do it, but she liked to color a lot. I got her interested in doing an altered book project (where you take a book and paint over it and paste stuff into it) and she came to class with her book. She'd painted over the cover and some of the pages and had pasted pictures of a little boy into some of the pages. It was her child who was seven. She was a special ed junior in high school with a seven year old child. She was so proud of him and said he was the most beautiful thing in her life. I don't doubt that but I wanted to SCREAM that SOMEONE should have gone to jail for making this child pregnant when she was a child.
My next to last year at HHS (2003) one of the Down's Syndrome girls was pregnant. She was so barely functional. I don't know if she even knew what was going on with her. I remember her wearing overalls over her huge belly. She delivered a normal baby and unfortunately died of asphyxiation about two days after she went home from the hospital leaving her normal baby to be raised by her parents. Go figure.
I pray for good and right things to happen..I see some scary things. I know that my friends who are medical caregivers do. Do you remember all the fuss over the baby whose parents were HIV and had Hep and VD? I was told I didn't have to take the baby's picture. I had faith that there was nothing that baby could give to me and I took a good picture (1986 or 87). That was back when we didn't know too much about HIV. She was a pretty baby. I can still remember the baby's face.
My students laugh at me when I dismiss 4th period on a Friday afternoon. I tell them to travel safely and not get pregnant. Kids laugh at me and ask me later what I mean. I ask them if they know what causes babies. They laugh but then they realize that I'm serious. I can't say what I want to say. I can only tell them that abstinence is the only way (per the mandate of the state of Texas). I tell them not to cause babies unless they are serious to a lifelong commitment. I tell them that the only sure way to keep from being pregnant or getting an STD is to be abstinent.
Who in our powers that be was ever a teenager? From the beginning of recorded time, babies have happened. They occur regardless of the "morality" of their culture. I'm disappointed that our state mandates such an archaic exchange of information. We have a problem with too many teens getting pregnant. We are allowed to give them very limited information which has no bearing on their reproduction capabilities.
Would it be better if I could have preached at Miss X who is my student for the third year? If I'd been able to talk to her frankly at the age of 14 would she get pregnant? Would she have a child now if I had been able to talk to her in a very frank and honest manner about what causes babies? I do not begrudge that beautiful baby. But I see CHILDREN at my school who are pregnant and don't have the sense God gave a chicken. I see pregnant children with 29 year old mothers becoming grandmothers and 36 year old grandmothers becoming great-grandmothers.
This is not how America gets ahead. This is how we breed a 5th generation of welfare mentality.
....overheard in the hallway "My Momma don't care if I'm pregnant 'cause we get another check."
I'm serious.
Who in our powers that be was ever a teenager? From the beginning of recorded time, babies have happened. They occur regardless of the "morality" of their culture. I'm disappointed that our state mandates such an archaic exchange of information. We have a problem with too many teens getting pregnant. We are allowed to give them very limited information which has no bearing on their reproduction capabilities.
Would it be better if I could have preached at Miss X who is my student for the third year? If I'd been able to talk to her frankly at the age of 14 would she get pregnant? Would she have a child now if I had been able to talk to her in a very frank and honest manner about what causes babies? I do not begrudge that beautiful baby. But I see CHILDREN at my school who are pregnant and don't have the sense God gave a chicken. I see pregnant children with 29 year old mothers becoming grandmothers and 36 year old grandmothers becoming great-grandmothers.
This is not how America gets ahead. This is how we breed a 5th generation of welfare mentality.
....overheard in the hallway "My Momma don't care if I'm pregnant 'cause we get another check."
I'm serious.
I hope I reach some of them. Please let me reach at least one in the way that the state limits me.
I WANT GRAND BABIES. #2 girl is graduated and working and doesn't want to date anyone in particular and doesn't want children at all. DAMN. #3 girl is a senior at TCU and she's got so much going on. She's prepping for the LSAT. She's got years of school ahead of her. I hope to God #4 boy doesn't knock some chippy up. I guess I have standards.
I miss you and would love to see you sometime. Please let us make a date!
Love,
Me
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