I'm aghast (again)

It's been sort of an odd last couple of days. My youngest has been out of state on a trip, so it's just the old man and I at home. I'm off work for Christmas break, and he is taking off from today until Jan 2. We are not empty nesters quite yet, so it's a new experience. Last night we ate our supper at the table, just the two of us (I gotta get used to cooking for only two) and I thought, this is how it was 32 years ago when we got married. Only we're a lot older. And grayer. And hopefully wiser.

On a different tangent, have you mailed any packages recently? I put together a box to go to my sister in Michigan. It had two very lightweight things in it, plus 3 paperback books. It couldn't have weighed more than 2-3 pounds. (I lost my mailing receipt, so I can't tell you exactly what it weighed.) I took it to Love Box as they offer a plethora of shipping methods to choose from, and the man, after packing it up, says:

Shipping Man: "That'll be 17.60".
Me: (Not sure I heard right) "7.60?"
Shipping Man: (louder) "17.60!"
Me: "What? I'm AGHAST! I'm not paying that to send this box!"
Shipping Man: "Well, that's UPS. Fed Ex is the same price."
Me: (Speechless)
Shipping Man: "You know, I haven't heard the word "aghast" in a long time."
Me: "You should hear it every day with these prices."
Shipping Man: "So whaddya want to do?"
Me: "Ya got anything going by horse and buggy?"
Shipping Man: (not amused) "Parcel Post. That'll cost ya $13.23".
Me: "Is that with delivery sometime next year, no guarantees?"
Shipping Man: "Yes. Delivery 10-14 days, BUSINESS days, (if then), no tracking, no insurance available."
Me: "Sigh".

So the package went Parcel Post. Linda, I don't know when you'll get it, or even IF you'll get it. I had no clue that it cost so much to mail boxes these days. Next time, I'll check out DHL. They drive those bright yellow delivery vans you see everywhere-maybe they are more reasonable.

Celebrating Christmas

Today is Saturday about 2:45 in the afternoon. It is near white-out conditions as the wind continues to howl and the snow continues to blow. Driving around the city is near impossible (as KFDI is reporting.) We have already cancelled church for tomorrow.

Now my thoughts turn toward my husband, getting off work at 5:00, my son-in-law, ending his shift at 3:00, and my son getting off work at 6:00 tonight. I hope everyone makes it home okay. My son called, and asked me to reserve a bed at our "hotel" in case he decides to come home instead of going to his apartment several miles down the road.

I truly have not seen blowing snow like this for several winters that I can remember. Those in western Kansas have drifting and blowing every winter, and have learned to tolerate it, but it's just not that common here in Wichita.

You know what-this would be a good day to write a letter. If you read my post a few days ago, you know that I've decided to try to write to a friend, since her computer lost the hard drive and we are not able to communicate via the information superhighway. And, yesterday, a nice letter from my elderly uncle I wrote about arrived. He apologized in the first paragraph, saying, "I have not forotten you, but I just don't take time to write. Now may be a good time even if nothing great to write about." How nice to hear from him! I may write him a real letter as well.

You know, I haven't written much about Christmas. I don't really know why. I do think about it, but I really try to not get involved in the frenzy that accompanies this holiday. If you were to come to my house, you'd wonder if we even celebrate Christmas. We have no tree, no lights, no decorations, and no packages. We DO have Christmas music on, either from the radio or from the Christmas CDs I have, but that's about it.
I did buy one present, that for my son-in-law, whose name I was assigned in our annual name drawing.

We do celebrate Christmas Eve with a traditional family candle lighting, which beautifully tells the Christmas story. Last year, we did this at the children's home my brother and sister-in-law were working at. This year, it will be just our family, gathered around our table in our small front room.

Here's a thought: Did Jesus command us to celebrate his birthday? Is there anything in Scripture that would suggest we participate in such a celebration? I'm open for comments about this...what do you think?

Wednesday

Just a short note here-my brother wrote in his blog that there must be something wrong because he's gone a week now without posting-well! I bet I can do that. He is a regular poster, and much more faithful than I am.

We're on the downhill slide to winter break. Today, tomorrow and Friday, then I'm "vacationing" for a week or so.

Congratulations to my youngest, who graduated from WSU on Sunday with a degree in accounting. Now he gets to find a job - from what I hear, it shouldn't be too difficult, but we'll see. He's working part time at the university, but needs a full time position in order to eventually move outta my house. He's also a pretty good musician, and I think would like to devote some attention to that interest as well. I don't care, as long as he makes enough money to support me when I'm in the Baptist old people's home. Which could be any day now.

It's supposed to be 50 degrees today, so all the snow should finish melting. I realized the other day that I didn't get the cannas out of the ground before the first hard freeze, so-there they go. I doubt that they will survive the winter. I was seriously neglectful of the fall yard work. The tomato plants never did get pulled up, and other work should have been done, but wasn't. It'll be waiting for me the first warmer days of spring.

Well, I'll write more in a couple of days. Take care, and here's your joke of the week: What do you call a cranky man that lives in the woods? Here it comes - "Forest Grump".

Christmas With a Capital

Enjoy!

The sad state of mail

I received a Christmas card from a friend, with a real hand written letter inside. This friend has been in my life for many years now, let's see, I first met her in January of 1976 - that's been more than 30 years! On and off throughout our lives, we've kept in touch and way back many years ago, we used to write letters fairly often. Although we have what some might consider to be a significant age discrepancy (17 years), and our lives have taken very divergent paths, somehow we have managed to maintain an interesting relationship. We've never lived near one another except for that very first year almost 32 years ago.
Anyhow, a couple of years ago, after several years of not having any communication with her, I found her son's email address online (he's a staff member at a church in a neighboring state) and emailed him to see how she was. He contacted her, and she immediately emailed me back. Off we were again, communicating by email and now some phone calls since we both have the same cell phone plan.
However, in the letter she included with her Christmas card, she mentioned that her hard drive had crashed several months ago (I had known that, and had been waiting for her to contact me again when she might have it fixed.) But it was her last statement that caused me to pause in my tracks: "Hope you have a meaningful Christmas and New Years and I don't know when you'll hear from me next. Take care." Hmmm. I was thinking about this and mentioned to my youngest son-you know, people don't write letters anymore. My mother was a letter writer-she regularly wrote to all us kids after we moved away from home, and to her siblings who lived many miles away. When I was in college, I practically LIVED by my little post office box. Many days I received letters from home, either from mom, or, from the boyfriend I was dating at the time. For years my siblings and I wrote in a "round letter", a fat envelope that went from house to house with everyone's contributions in it. I can remember the highlight of my day, even 20 years ago, was getting a letter in the mail. But now, oh my. There are not very many letters in my mail. Every once in awhile, I will get a letter from my elderly uncle, who lives in a town not too far from here. He still writes to his far-away and near relatives. But this past year, 2007, I cannot remember anyone besides him sending me a letter, and it's getting to the point I don't hear from him by letter maybe 2 or 3 times a year.
Does anyone besides me think that there's just something precious that we've lost in our culture when the mail you get includes nothing but advertisements and bills? And that when we have no computer, we have no way to communicate? I'm thinking I'm going to write her back. Perhaps we'll be the only two people in the USA who still send letters, but there's just something about writing down your thoughts. I'm not talking about typing letters, I'm talking about real writing. Like with pen and paper. Does anyone remember how to do that anymore?

A moral dilemma, or is it?

It's been awhile since I've written. Every day I think about it, and every day I get distracted or something. It's cold, wet, windy, and sorta miserable here. Some ice is forecast for this evening and through tomorrow. I hate driving on ice. My car is rear wheel drive and we were in a few precarious spots last winter on city streets.

So, did you read about the gas station in Minocqua, Wisconsin? An employee accidently changed the price to 32.9 cents a gallon instead of $3.29 cents a gallon. Uh oh. That's a little bit of a difference. When word spread about the cheap gas, dozens of people flooded the station to fill up. It says: "Word of the bargain spread fast in the rural northern Wisconsin community, with 42 people buying 586 gallons of gas in an hour and 45 minutes." When local police got wind, they called the store manager, who came down and threw the emergency stop on all the pumps. What caught my eye was her statement: "I was very upset that there's that many dishonest people," she said. "They knew there was a problem, and they took advantage of an employee's mistake and I think that's terrible."

So what do you think? Would you have gone down to that station and helped yourself to cheap gas because of a store employee's mistake? Personally, I agree with the store manager. It WAS dishonest for people to do that. I can just hear it now, "...the big oil companies won't miss it...", "...it wasn't MY fault...", "...if you can save a buck or two, why not...", yadda yadda. There IS a standard of decency, even when you deal with "big oil companies". I'm not responsible for what they do, I'm just responsible for my own decisions. And that includes conducting business with integrity.

Let's hear what you think.

Can't we do life without numbing ourselves?

Here it is, Saturday morning - and I woke up at 5:32 am. That's right, 5:32. I laid in bed wide awake for almost an hour, then decided to get up. What else is there to do besides write in your blog? I dunno. I hate when this happens. Why can't I wake up at 5:32 on a work day and feel like this? Monday through Friday the alarm goes off at 6:15 and I have to almost literally drag myself out of the bed. I'm sure I will pay the price later for my early rising as I've got a busy schedule today. I've got some errands to run, some cleaning to do, and a "holiday crafts" party to attend. If you know me, you know I'm not a "crafty" person, but this annual get together at our church, I sort of enjoy. I was also invited to a Silpada Jewelry party this morning also, but also if you know me, you know I'm not a jewelry person. I'll let that one go by me, even though one of the selling points in attending this party was stated by the hostess as such: "We're going to be having Mimosas!"
Speaking of parties, and because I'm a member of two schools' families, plans for multiple Christmas parties are being made. I got one invitation which said, "Wine and beer provided. You can BYOB. If you drink, be sure you bring a designated driver." Yeah, count me in. I think I'll celebrate the Savior's birthday by getting blasted along with people I work with on a daily basis. Why is consuming alcohol to excess at any function such a big part of our culture? Do we need that in order to feel like we're having a good time? Weddings, showers, home sales parties, ball games, Christmas, Memorial Day, Labor Day - oh, and let's not forget the end of the school year parties which occur in May during which school staff get together and drink - could somebody explain how this activity has become so engrained in our culture that if you decline to participate, you are viewed as odd or weird? I don't mind an occasional glass of wine (very occasionally, as I am diabetic), but good grief. People who deliberately drink until they are falling down stupid need to get a grip. And stay off the road.

Peanut butter sandwiches and the future

I've had a fairly good week. Lots of interaction with kids, and lots of talking with other adults about interaction with kids. I sometimes wonder if attention-starved kids act out because, you know, you can get a pretty good number of adults stirred up quickly if you say and do the "right" things. But, on the other hand, we've got a little 7 year old guy at one school who right now, has several adult professionals discussing his situation every single day. "Nick" looks at me with those beautiful green eyes and grins...when he's feeling pretty good about things, he does alright. But his homelife is a disaster-he confided in me yesterday that he often times has to make his own supper consisting of a peanut butter sandwich, because the person he lives with doesn't bother to cook. He gets dropped off in the morning between 6:45 and 7:00am, for latchkey, so he eats breakfast and lunch at school. I would imagine that he fends for himself quite a bit in the evenings and on weekends. Nick has no mom or dad around - he lives with a relative, who has stated- "I really don't care where he lives, I guess I'll take care of him because no one else wants him." Nick often explodes in anger at school. He kicks walls, throws things, and a lot of time loses control of his emotions. He spends time in the principal's office and in the cool down room. IF he gets any learning done, it's sheer coincidence. A 7 year old boy with a dimpled grin and sparkling green eyes shouldn't have to worry about his next meal, or whether he has a place to sleep at night. I wonder if some day, those eyes will be looking out of a jail cell. Or closed permanently under a casket lid. I wonder.

Thanks for teachers

After a wonderful break, it's time to get back to work. I did have a nice Monday. Busy, but not so busy I was crazy busy. My schedule right now is just the way I like it. I have enough work that it's interesting and a challenge, but not so much that I'm working in the evenings and on Saturdays like I did last year.

Say what you want about teachers, I think they are some of the most under appreciated of our work force. Most teachers I know spend far more time at their jobs than the required 7.5 hours daily. Additionally, they spend money out of their own pockets for their kids-this was illustrated again this week when I learned that a teacher paid for one of her students to get her glasses repaired. This student lives in a household where neither parent attend teacher conferences or school programs, in fact, neither parent has even met the teacher. This family has one cell phone which the dad has with him while he works out of state. They have one vehicle, which the dad has with him, you guessed it, while he works out of state. Dad is supposed to be sending money home to his family.

This little girl has needed her glasses fixed since September. Notes home to mom were uneffective. Phone calls to dad were uneffective. Visits to the home were uneffective. Finally, the teacher asked the girl to bring her broken glasses to school, and the teacher then took them to be fixed.
This student, not surprisingly, is struggling in school. A registered letter is going home to mom this week to explain about the girl's lack of progress. Will this get mom involved? Who knows? Past history would say no. But this little girl has a champion on her side who is fighting for her, and that's none other than her teacher. I've known teachers who have paid medical insurance premiums for families, bought clothes and shoes for kids, brought food to families in crisis, and supplied paper, pencils, markers, crayons, Kleenexes, and books for their students. It happens all the time, and most times, others are unaware of these sacrifices. You say there are no heroes? Contact me. I can put you in touch with some.

A Gift

A friend at church made a birthday cake

for me and presented it at the women's group Sunday evening. Although this picture does not do this cake justice, you can see it is a grand piano, similar to what I play in our church, complete with a miniature me! Almost everything is edible, including 3 pedals which you can't see. The cake is sitting on a wooden platform, but the piano legs and lid are made of what she called "fondant". Even I'm made of fondant, as is the bench. I hestitated to cut into the cake and serve it to the group, but I did so, and it was delicious! My son finished off the last of the keyboard last night.

I was touched by this gift and by her generosity. Hours of painstaking labor went into the making of this cake, and I am grateful. Although this is sort of a hobby with her now, I think she's hoping it will blossom into a business someday - it certainly has the potential to do so. I'll always remember my piano birthday cake with fondness for its creator and my friend-Linda Presley.

A Sea Symphony

Today is my 53rd birthday. I'm not terribly introspective about birthdays these days, although, I will admit that my 50th hit me kinda hard. I have no special plans today except the regular Sunday schedule-church, choir practice, and women's group. And that's it.

Last night Dan and I went to the symphony orchestra concert and heard Mozart's Symphony No. 39 the first half of the program, and then a work by Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) called, A Sea Symphony. You can find out some info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Sea_Symphony_(Vaughan_Williams) . This is a long work, lasting 70 minutes, using orchestra, 2 soloists, and last night, the Friends University Singing Quakers provided the choral interpretation. It is based upon a poem by Walt Whitman, and according to Wiki, it's "Leaves of Grass" but our concert program didn't state that. Here's an interesting stanza:

Yet soul be sure the first intent remains, and shall be carried out.
Perhaps even now the time has arrived.
After the seas are all crossed,
After the great captains and engineers have accomplished their work,
After the noble inventors,
Finally shall come the poet worthy that name,
The true son of God shall come singing his songs.

And the last stanza:

Away O Soul! Hoist instantly the anchor!
Cut the hawsers-haul out-shake out every sail!
Sail forth-steer for the deep waters only.
Reckless O Soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me,
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go,
And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.
O my brave Soul!
O farther, farther sail!
O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God!
A farther, farther, farther sail!

And it ends not in a grand forte flourish. The chorus sings the last line several times, each time softer than before, until you cannot hear voices. The orchestra repeats the notes and it sounds in that great concert hall as if the music is drifting farther and farther away, the maestro conducting even the silences between chords, until finally, you hear just the faintest notes of the bass violins fading away. Then awesome total silence.

I was strangely moved by this work, and left the concert hall with a tear in my eye. Dan thought it was too long, but honestly, I sat for 70 minutes and listened to this symphony, and was surprised to find it was that long. They left the lights up in the concert hall so you could follow the text of the chorus, which was good, because at times the orchestra overwhelmed them and the words were difficult to understand.

This is our second year to have season tickets to the symphony orchestra concerts. It took a few concerts for me to go and just sit and let the music speak. Some works are easier to understand than others - some symphonies and concertos seem to have no discernable tune that you can remember and sing on the way out to your car. The music appears disorganized and dischordant, and you wonder what on earth the composer was trying to get across. But other times, the music is balm for a fragmented, weary, tattered soul, and it washes over me like a healing wave of relief. Thank you, God.

Sunday Afternoon

Through a series of sorta weird circumstances, I was able to attend a lunch meeting on Sunday - a sort of round table discussion of homeless issues here in Wichita. My thesis research took a look at the academic success of homeless children and levels of parental stress to see if there was any correlation between the two. Of course the sample was way too small to be able to test any sort of hypothesis, but my experience gathering the research at two family homeless shelters was eye-opening for me. At this informal luncheon, a local author read from her recently published book of interviews of chronically homeless persons she met through a local shelter. Proceeds from this book benefit this shelter.

So I drive my 16 year old car into an affluent, upper class, east side neighborhood and locate the house where the meeting is. I park my car and survey the property. I realize I'm not an appraiser, but I would not have been surprised if this house would be valued at 200-250,000K. I was already nervous about this meeting, and became even more so as I approached the front door. The irony of meeting at a quarter of a million dollar home to discuss situations of people who didn't even have a roof over their heads was present in my mind. However, that feeling quickly evaporated as the owner of the house met me with a welcoming smile and warm handshake at the front door. I was introduced all around and in about a minute, was comfortable. We had a finger food lunch, and then for a couple of hours, discussed these issues with openness and honesty. I was asked to present some key points from my thesis, and those present seemed genuinely interested. I walked away, touched and surprised by this meeting. Got in my old car, drove back to my old house, and pondered how I almost let my prejudices decline this invitation. I would have been the poorer for it, not financially, but in my spirit. There is a greater poverty than the lack of money.

Parking Problems

I need therapy. Well, maybe not THERAPY. I just need an objective person to tell me why I get SO irritated when my neighbors park their vehicles in front of my house. I live between two families who either own, or have relatives who own, humongous pickups and SUVs. And for some reason, these people, instead of parking across from their house, or down the street, park in front of my house, and across from my house. Case in point: I've been away at a conference for two days. Came home from eating out last night, my husband was in his car and I drove my rental. In front of my house was the biggest pickup you've ever seen. Neither of us could park there. This morning, the large pickup was gone, and in its place-the young guy living with mom and dad next door to the south had parked his large blue Chevy Z66 - I'm telling you, it looks like a tank sitting there. Looking across the street from where they live, the curb is clear, there are no vehicles there- he COULD HAVE parked across the street from his own house. Another example, the neighbor to the north has had a frequent visitor the last few days who drives a large van owned by a heating and air conditioning company. Two out of four days last week I came home to find this van parked in front of my house.

I don't mind telling you that this makes me CRAZY. I cannot stand it. I have resorted to, when the curb in front of my house is clear, moving my car, AND, instead of leaving a spot for someone else to park either in front of or behind me, I park in the middle between my driveway and the neighbor's drive. I also have parked in front of their house from time to time, but this worries me - I may find that my car won't start some morning due to, well, you get the picture.

My husband, always the cool headed person, simply looks at my irritation with amusement. "It's a public street", he says nonchantly. "Whaddya wanna do, set up traffic cones?" OOO! Traffic cones! I could do that.

So my question is, why am I so angry about this? I can tell ya. I'm mad because this is something, that unless I want to confront neighbors about, I have no control over, and even then, it wouldn't do any good. You may say, in the big scheme of things, does it matter? Yes and no. There are very few "perks" to living in the house I live in - I could sink thousands of dollars into it tomorrow but money is always an issue, and, when you're done, it's still an old crappy house. I'd sell it tomorrow, but I am waiting on a spouse to come around and say "Let's sell this place" - so that's out of my control. But one of the perks, privileges, or rights I feel I am entitled to is simply to be able to park my car in front of where I live. Is this asking too much? No, it's not. And yes, it is.

But, in the grand picture, it doesn't matter. I have a job. My husband has a job - two of them as a matter of fact. I DO have a roof over my head. My old cars run fairly well. Perhaps I need an attitude adjustment - what is it they call that, I need "an attitude of gratitude". If I give up the right to park in front of my own house, then I won't get upset when I can't do that. That's a good way to cure what ails ya, just give up what you think you "deserve".

Well, I'm feeling better. Thanks for your help!

Am I a nice person?

I think fall has arrived. My hands are cold when I drive to work in the mornings, and finally finally, I'm seeing red leaves on trees. Looking across the street at the school playground, there's a tree that still has many green leaves on it, but the other trees are finally turning yellow. The time change got me-it's so dark at 5:15. No more walking in Riverside Park after work.

Have you ever been in a situation where you've unintentionally rubbed a co-worker the wrong way? I always thought I was sort of a nice person, but somehow someway, I've found myself getting crossed up with a teacher who has taken exception to me, personally. I've decided to stay out of her way as much as possible, but we will have to work together on some issues concerning kids and I'm not sure how to do that. She's a veteran teacher, many years of experience, and very good in the classroom from what I've seen. She's got a little bit of resentment toward me, but maybe she's had unpleasant experiences with psychologists before. You know how it is, we just never find the "right" kids are eligible for special education services. I was talking to another teacher yesterday who I do have a good rapport with, and she was asking me if I thought it would be worth it for her to refer one of her kindergarteners for testing. I sorta discouraged her, as it is difficult to place kindergarten students in special ed unless they have "obvious" deficits, like mental retardation or orthopaedic impairment. She says, "Of course not! You can't place him! I shudda known!" (And winked at me so I knew she was kidding.) Only, have you ever noticed that people speak the truth when they are "kidding"? They say stuff they'd like to say seriously, but for some reason can't.

I'll be gone tomorrow and Friday. A little break, a little respite, a little sitting at a conference on learning disabilities. As Daniel would say, "Boring! Boring! Boring!" Not to a psychologist. I'd be bored if I had to make it through one of his accounting classes. Now a music class-I could do that. We've bought some new piano music recently-a book of duets for two pianos, and then some one piano-four hand arrangements. We sightread through some of them last Saturday and one of my favorites will be a two piano arrangment of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring". We're gonna play that in December. See ya later.

Reason #4

I've been relating on other blog entries that civility appears to be on the way out the window, and today, I learned of a disturbing incident at one of the schools I work at which may lend credence to that observation. A driving encounter (a parking "misunderstanding") between the mother of one of our Pre-K students and the mother of an older student turned into sort of a road rage incident, and both mothers got into a verbal confrontation in the front office at school. In front of staff, other parents who were checking in to help with Halloween parties, and kids, these mothers engaged in yelling at each other complete with f-bombs, and even had some physical contact. The principal became involved, separating the two mothers. Both mothers called 911 on their cells. The police came, took reports, and interviewed witnesses. A nice afternoon turned into an ugly mess. I hope these moms are proud of themselves. I am livid that my workplace, a place that we teach is a SAFE place for our children to be, was used for such a despicable purpose between two grown women who were fighting over a PARKING PLACE.

This terrible incident leads us very nicely to the 4th reason author Lynne Truss would like to stay home and bolt the door: "The Universal Eff-Off Reflex". Truss says she's really not surprised by the proclivity of the people in our culture to believe "I have a right to do X", and, "I am beyond censure from you when I do X". And yes, as much as we don't want to do this, we certainly should look at television as a thermometer of what is acceptable. Verbal abuse is the norm in reality shows. Truss says, "People being vulgar and rude to each other in contrived, stressful situations is TV's bread and butter. The message and content of a vast amount of popular television can be summed up in the words, 'Eff-Off' "!

We're all touched by it. The question is, what can we do about it?

Will I have a bed on November 8?

I feel adventurous. This feeling doesn't come around very often - maybe that's a good thing since I'm on the downhill slide to senior citizenry. Nevertheless, the cause is due to my own time mismanagement. I am attending a conference the second week of November out of town, and guess what I forgot to do? That's correct - I forgot to make hotel reservations where the conference is being held. Now there are no rooms available at that particular hotel.

So I went online in search of area hotels. I'm not extremely familiar with this part of the state, and although I found many places listed, I'm not sure what's closest to the location of the conference. I gave up fairly quickly, and I think I'm going to just wing it. That's right, I'm going to drive up there and just see what's available WITHOUT a reservation. I'm sure my husband who never would consider such a plan will sorta freak out, but I'm not worried. I'm optimistic about the endless possibilities...hopefully, I won't end up in the bus station or in my car, but, I'll let you know how it works out. Here's a thought-I can ask my sister, who loves internet research to do some hotel shopping for me. There's an idea...

A Russian concert experience

I'm sorry I haven't posted recently. I've been a little weary. But I notice my brother, who has sorta been through the fire this last week is posting. What a good example he sets!

Tonight my son and I attended the Wichita Symphony Orchestra concert. We have season tickets again this year, and I enjoy it very much. Of course, going with Dan is always an adventure. He's really the classical music specialist of the family. This evening as I listened to Rachmaninoff's "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini", Op. 43, I admired the guest soloist, Lilya Zilberstein. She's a Russian pianist now living in Hamburg, Germany and what an extraordinary talent! The second half of the concert was the "Symphony No. 5 in D Minor", written in 1937 by a modern Russian composer, Dmitri Shostakovich. Take note of this, from the description in the concert program: "Emotional release comes in the form of a Scherzo. Here, Shostakovich's wry, sardonic sense of humor comes through, possibly taunting his worse critics." Did you know that Shostakovich had a wry, sardonic sense of humor? It's amazing what music communicates to the listener. I'm glad I read the entire description of this symphony before I heard it played - it was an amazing work.

The other work played, which I just wanted to briefly comment on, was one I had never ever heard of. It was called "Iron Foundry", composed by Mosolov. In 1926-1928, Masolov, a Russion composer, wrote a ballet called "Steel". It was intended to highlight the surge of industrialization going on in the Soviet Union during that time. "Iron Foundry" is a piece from this ballet. During this amazing piece you can close your eyes and imagine a steel factory, with all the noise from the machinery coming at you loudly and discordantly. The orchestra uses percussion and dissonant violins to create this illusion. I noticed one of the percussion players waving a large piece of sheet metal, which added even more realism to the experience. It was an odd piece, but one I won't soon forget.

'The Great Mattress Maneuver"

Characters:
Father
Mother
Daniel
Joshua
Rebekah
Tiffany
Michael

Setting: The house, Sunday afternoon, 1:30. Father and Mother are on the road, traveling back from a weekend away.

Prologue
Daniel: Mother, I'm way too tall for a twin bed. I would like a full sized one.
Mother: Yes you are tall. However, you will not be able to get a full sized box spring upstairs to your room. Remember, our stairs has a 90 degree turn from the landing.
Daniel: I can do it!
Mother: No you can't. Please do not attempt this, it will result in failure.
Daniel: I can do it!

ACT 1
Scene 1
Daniel: It's a Sunday afternoon and I have nothing to do. I think I will buy a new full sized bed.
Joshua: OK! I can help!
Rebekah: Huh?
Scene 2
Daniel: Hi Michael and Tiffany! I'm going to buy a full size bed! Can you help carry it in?
Michael and Tiffany together in unison: We'd love to help!
Scene 3 (At the Furniture Store)
Tiffany: How much do you mark this stuff up?
Furniture store man: 25 to 75%.
Daniel: I'll take this one!

Act 2
Scene 1
Daniel: (Surveying back of pickup) Woo hoo! Look at this great new bed!
Rebekah: Can you get that up the stairs?
Daniel: It has a 5 year guarantee!
Tiffany: Can you get that up the stairs?
Joshua: It's got quilting!
Scene 2
Michael: (huffing and puffing) I don't think it's gonna go up.
Joshua: (huffing and puffing) No can do, man.
Daniel: (huffing and puffing) We MUST get this up the stairs!
Mother: (answering cell phone) Hello?
Rebekah: You should see what's going on here!
Mother: We're turning around and going back to Branson.
Scene 3
Daniel: It's not going up the stairs!
Tiffany and Rebekah: We told you so.
Joshua: It's a GREAT mattress.
Michael: I'm a fireman. I will come up with a plan. Do not worry.
ACT 3
Scene 1
Michael: So, if we can't get it up the stairs, we have to find another way INTO the room. Hmmm. Oh, look, a second story window! It goes right into the room!
Daniel: Here's a ladder!
Michael: Let's remove the entire window! From the house! The frame and all!
Tiffany and Rebekah: Are you CRAZY?
Joshua: What a great idea!
Daniel: I am too tall for a twin bed, you know.
Scene 2
Joshua: (pointing to window) So, how do we hoist the box spring up there?
Michael: Get a rope! Get them wimmen upstairs! Get ready to push!
Rebekah: Huh?
Tiffany: It's easy! We'll tie the rope around the box spring. The boys will push it up the ladder from the ground. We'll pull it from the upstairs opening where the window used to be and haul it inside! It'll be great!
Rebekah: Huh???????????
Scene 3
Tiffany and Rebekah: PUSH!
Michael, Daniel, and Joshua: WE ARE! You pull harder!!!
Scene 4
Rebekah: Look at this carpeting! You tracked in mud everywhere! Look at this! Clean it up!! Before mother gets here!
Mother: (answering cell phone) Hello?
Rebekah: Where you are?
Mother: I'm pulling in the driveway.
Rebekah: SHE'S PULLING IN THE DRIVEWAY!
Scene 5
Mother: Look! See mud and shoe tracks on carpeting!
Father: Look! See Michael hoisting the window back into opening!
Joshua: Look! See our problem solving skills in action!
Michael: Look! See how this window will just barely fit back in here!
Tiffany: Look! See what these Neanderthals did!
Rebekah: Look! See what these Neanderthals did!
Daniel: Look! I've got a new bed!

Postlude
Rebekah: (to Daniel and Joshua) Get in the car. Go to Dillons. Rent a "Rug Doctor". Get all the cleaning supplies. Bring it home. Clean up this mess on this carpeting. Return the rug doctor.
Daniel: Ok.
Joshua: Ok.
Mother: The mud is nearly gone. I am happier.
Father: The window is back in. The Cowboys will beat the Patriots. I am happier.

Note: Final score: Patriots 48 Cowboys 27
THE END.

Canon in D through my head

We just got back from a weekend spent near Branson - and because we've discovered an inexpensive "jewel" of a place down on Indian Point, we had a wonderful time. I would never in a million years actually STAY in Branson. This little place on Indian Point, Hunter's Friend, is well worth the time and trouble it takes to get there. It is NOT a 4 star motel. We met two of my brothers and their wives there - and although some had problems with weak shower flow, some had problems with lumpy mattresses, some had problems with noisy neighbors for awhile, it STILL is great staying there in order to avoid the Branson madness. 35.00 a night. How do you beat that?

We did see "The Haygoods", a high energy musical group of 7 brothers and 1 sister who entertained us exceedingly well. Check out their videos on YouTube. The "Canon in D" is worth it, even if it takes awhile to download on a slow connection. I LOVE Dick's 5 and 10 store in Branson-stocked with more than 40,000 items (the affable sales clerk told me) in what seemed to me like about 1000 square feet, maybe less. The excursion train was kinda cool. Lots of trees. As one brother enthusiastically commented, "If you've seen one tree, you've seen 'em all..." And dinner at the Keeter Center at the College of the Ozarks was the highlight of the trip for me. What a wonderful time! Very good food. Very good service. Very nice atmosphere. Very conducive to visiting. Very wonderful live violin music. Very good coffee. Just VERY GOOD. (In case you hadn't noticed those adjectives before.)

So I'm back home, went to an inservice today on emotional disturbance. You know you're back to reality when you get to do that the very next day after coming home from a weekend vacation.

Reason #3

Continuing on with the third reason: "My Bubble, My Rules"
According to author Lynne Truss, one of the great principles of manners, especially in Britain, is "respecting someone else's right to be left alone, unmolested, undisturbed." She calls it the concept of distinguishing between public and private space, and, stating the the cell phone is by far, the biggest catalyst in blurring the lines. Anytime, anywhere, we can listen in on one-sided conversations where anything is the topic-business arrangements, lunch menus, criminal activity, and why someone doesn't like one's mother-in-law. The title for Reason #3 came from Bart Simpson, who one time explained his boorish behavior by stating, "Hey, it's my bubble, my rules." When we're out in public, we're in our own little bubble, in our own little world, and in our own little world, our own rules govern our behavior. So what if I am having a disagreement with my spouse over whether to invite his sister to Thanksgiving. You get to be part of that too, whether you want to or not, because I'm having this conversation behind you, at the checkout line in Dillons. The ironic part of this is that if I said anything, you'd tell me to mind my own business. Well I'm SORRY. You made it my business when you encroached upon me with your what should have been private discussion of why you can't stand your sister-in-law. Truss says it used to just be CIA agents who walked around with earpieces and "preoccupied, faraway expressions, regarding the little people as irrelevent scum. Now...it's nearly everybody."

My son works for a major auto parts supplier. He went with us to a funeral home Thursday evening to pay respects to a family who unexpectedly lost a loved one on Tuesday. We were there visiting for 30-45 minutes and during that time, he had his cell phone turned off. After leaving the home and getting back into the car, he turned it on and found that in that length of time, the store had called him 8 times. I was aghast. And grateful he thought to turn it off.

**************************************************************************
I've been busy at both schools this week. In this job, a lot of unexpected, unplanned things come up, and you often cannot stick to what you had planned to do when you arrived at work that morning. Then, you get that "I'm behind" feeling, which is a major cause of life stress - I have an outbreak of painful canker sores on my lip which I think, are in part triggered by that stress. It's not just me, my sister-in-law was telling me yesterday that she spent 5 days at her job trying to clear her desk. My husband has a job where the phone rings multiple times in an hour-he used to keep track of the number of phone calls in a day and it was not unusual for him to get 30 or more in an 8 hour day. It's all about dealing with interruptions, isn't it! When I think about interruptions, I think about the gospel of Mark. Read through that book in one or two sittings some time, there are only 16 chapters. Note the number of times Jesus was interrupted, either when He was teaching, walking somewhere, going to church, praying, eating, or speaking with someone. And note His reaction to the interruptions. I had a friend who once told me that interruptions are opportunities for ministry. What do you think?

Reason #2

2. Why am I the One Doing This?
In this section, author Lynne Truss says that in our society, we, as consumers, are required more and more to handle our own problems. I was talking to my brother and sister-in-law about this the other day. In the old days, you could call up the company, talk to a real person, state your problem, "I am calling because you've sent my bill to the wrong address three times now", and that person would apologize, and direct you to someone who would actually help you. I related an incident that happened to me, not too long ago, when I called our district office to speak to someone. I said, "May I speak to Cathy Clover (not her real name) please?" The secretary said, "She's not in today." Period. That was it. Simply, "She's not in today." No offer to take a message, no information regarding whether or not she might be in tomorrow, no nothing. There was not even a perfunctory, "I'm sorry." So then it was up to ME to extract this information from the sealed vault and then decide whether to email, call back, or leave a message. Another example: In lining up to take care of business, you discover you're in the WRONG line-you SHOULD be in the cash only line, or in the credit card only line. Or, you go somewhere to resolve an issue, and you are told that person is only there on the 3rd Tuesday of months which have a "b" in them, only if it is not raining, and, it is up to YOU to remember that. Truss says that in asking customers to perform more and more functions of a business (Online banking anyone? Self-check in? How about pulling your own tooth out?), businesses are actually considering us as "co-op employees". They tell us is for our convenience, but it's actually for theirs.

My primary care physician is in a rather large practice, with probably 15 or 20 other doctors. When you call his office, you wade through a phone menu that first separates the new patients from the existing patients. Then from there, you can select if you want an appointment, or if you want to call your physician-nurse team, or if you need to speak to the business office, etc etc, then from there, you select WHICH physician-nurse team, or WHICH business office, then you get to press whether you have an insurance claim pending or if you have medicare, etc., THEN you get to leave a message on somebody's voice mail. Yeah. This is for MY convenience. I think the ultimate, though, is that the city set up "satellite offices" for you to conduct your car tag/property tax business, with extended hours and actually maybe, close to where you might live or shop. Then they tack on a surcharge for this convenience. You have to PAY for the priviledge of customer service. If you don't choose to pay extra, you can take 1/2 day off work and park with the hundreds of others, wait in what you hope is the right line, and finally reach a station where the stars will have lined up just right and you can transact your business with a minimum of surliness from the clerk who hates her/his job and can't wait to get home to watch "Survivor".

We aren't living in Mayberry anymore. You can't stroll down the street past Floyd's barbershop and go into the sheriff's office to pay a parking ticket Barney gave you last week. (Speaking of paying tickets, you should try to navigate your way through City Hall to conduct buisness. Be sure to again, request at least 1/2 day off work.)

I realize as part of a large school district, that I'm one of those you reach after working your way through a menu of choices on the phone, and that I have inconvenient office hours as I work at three different schools and depending on what school your kid goes to, I may or may not be at your kid's school when you have a question. Believe me, I understand your frustration. But I at least, return calls and apologize for my crazy schedule, dictated by someone bigger than me. That's more than you'll get from AT & T.

Reason #1

In her book, "Talk to the Hand", author Lynne Truss discusses six areas in which the human race is getting more "unpleasant and inhuman" day by day. She defines these areas as six reasons to stay home and bolt the door - perhaps figuratively, perhaps not.

#1. "Was That So Hard To Say?"
Truss deplores the state of manners in our society-and the infrequent use of the words "please" and "thank you". She notes that the rituals that once were in place for showing gratitude are now in sad disrepair. Hold a door open for someone and it's unusual to hear a thank you. However, I think maybe in the midwest, we still do this a lot of the time. And the place that surprises me the most with polite door holding is QuikTrip. Yes, that busy convenience store where people are rushing in for drinks, snacks, or a myriad number of other items - it is not unusual for the person in front of you to hold the door for you as you go out, particularly if you have something in your hands. I'm always amazed at that. And, it's contagious. I always hold the door open for the next guy. Even if the person coming out IS a guy.

Reason #2 next post. Stay tuned.

In other news, I have 3 special education staffings this week. To complicate matters, a long time church member and friend died yesterday, and her funeral is Thursday. I have been asked to provide music, but I'm afraid I will not be able to as one of those special education staffing meetings is the same time as the service. And Friday is another inservice day-I get to hear about suspensions and expulsions for half the day, and review crisis plans at both schools the other half of the day.

Sympathies extend to my daughter, whose faithful companion, Alex, a guinea pig she had for five and a half years died. My daughter, for some reason, has a real affinity for guinea pigs, and has had them in her life ever since we got her first one for her for her birthday when she was in the 3rd grade. She babies them, spoils them rotten, and they want for nothing when they are in her care - in fact, they communicate exceptionally well with her in squeaks, chirps, grunts, and noises that only she can understand. I never did get on good terms with Alex as he bit me once, but he was sure a nice looking tri-color pig, with a personality all his own.

A Civil Civilization

Whatever happened to civility? Kindness? Manners? British author Lynne Truss writes a spot-on account of the trend in our society of uncivilized, rude, and ill-mannered people in, "Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of the World, or, Six Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door." While I was home on Tuesday, I read this book in one day. (You can order it from Amazon for as cheap as 1 cent plus shipping, or check it out of your local public library.) In this laugh out loud and enlightening treatise, she explores reasons why we are in such a state, not only in Britain, but in the USA as well.

I'll be talking about this in blog entries to come, so stay tuned for the six reasons she gives, good reasons I might add, of why we may often feel like staying home and bolting the door. For example, here's her thoughts about one possible cause of our unseeming behavior toward each other: "One hesitates to blame television for all this because that's such an obvious thing to do. But, come on. Just because it's obvious doesn't mean it's not true. People being vulgar and rude to each other...is TV's bread and butter." I agree. The TV show "Survivor" is a good example of betrayal and knife in the back stabbings, however, even it isn't as bad as some reality shows.

So let's discuss civility and human kindness. Whatever happened to please and thank you, to genuine customer service (where you call a number and actually get a human to talk to), where your bank knows your name and the guy you let get in front of you on Kellogg during rush hour waved his gratitude to you? Stay tuned.

Blech

Oh man. This cold, or perhaps allergies, I'm not sure, finally got me. This morning it's been nothing but cough, cough, cough, blow nose, cough, sneeze, concurrently with headache and scratchy throat.

I'm at home today as I didn't want to cough and blow my nose in a 2 hour meeting this morning, and in a 2 one hour meetings this afternoon. You're welcome. If you're sick, stay home! Although I am scrupulous about handwashing and using hand sanitizer, some little germ got through. Little things can topple big things. End of story.

The Sounds of Silence

This week looks like it's shaping up to be a busy one. Tomorrow I'm meeting with a WSU professor in the afternoon. I have several other meetings this week, plus an all day workshop to attend on Friday, so I'll be out of the office all that day.

I'm evaluating a student from another culture-I'd tell you which one but this student is rather unusual and I need to protect his privacy. I'll call this student Maxa. Maxa was born with several physical deformities, plus had an unfortunate accident when he was younger resulting in two broken legs. Maxa's culture is not very tolerant or accepting of children who are less than "perfect", and his mother has reacted to this child's "imperfections" by sheltering him, and by doing for him even those things Maxa could do for himself given the opportunity. He has been coddled throughout his short life, and allowed to do whatever he likes. Consequently, he has behavior which is not acceptable-when told "no", he fights. When playing with other children, he doesn't share, he grabs toys and pencils. He pushes and is a bully. Maxa does not have social or academic English language skills. He has sensory deficits and an unusual deformity of his hands and feet. Evaluating him will be a challenge, but the big hurdle will be to find someone to translate so that my results will make sense to his mother. In discussing her child with her, I really have to be cognizant of the fact that the native culture she grew up in does not allow for children to be "different". Hence, I have a meeting with a WSU professor of this same culture and ethnicity. I'm hoping he can help me understand how I can best communicate to this mother about her son, all the while keeping in mind that I must say what needs to be said, and she must understand what is said.

It is hot and muggy tonight. After a cool day in the 50's yesterday, it got warm today-up in the 90's. And this evening at 10:30, it still hasn't cooled off much.

I wonder what I'd be doing tonight if I didn't live in the city. If I lived outside of town, I bet I'd be sitting on my porch watching the stars come out. Listening to the sounds of the night-and I'm not talking about traffic, horns, sirens, airplanes, and trains. Sometimes my soul aches for peace and quiet. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find it.

"Pilch" vs "Filch"

So, I've revamped the blog. I realized that I have problems writing in this journal because I've always defined myself by my job title. I figured not much else was interesting about me. And I dunno, maybe there isn't. But now that I'm starting my second year on the job, and I'm not in school any more at Wichita State University, maybe there's more that I should discuss on these virtual pages. I take comfort that not too many people read this blog anymore. It doesn't really bother me that I've lost my faithful reader friends who used to check in once in awhile (I miss you guys)! But your lives go on. You have more interesting online activities to pursue than this sometimes boring, sometimes retrospective, sometimes confusing look at life.

So here we are on a Saturday afternoon. This morning was distribution day for Angel Food Ministries at our church and I was the person in charge of making the unpopular decisions. I left about 1:00 with two of my kids who also volunteer (we were the last to walk out the door after clean up) and so I took them to lunch. I really enjoy being with my kids, it seems we are all friends, and can have a good time laughing at our, and others' foibles along the way. (BTW Daniel, "pilch" IS a word meaning: "an infants wrapper worn over a diaper." In the context you used the word in, you meant "filch" i.e., steal, purloin, take, swipe, lift, snaffle, pinch. EX: "Mom, I'm going to FILCH that trash can from that other room and bring it in here", not, "Mom I'm going to "PILCH" that trash can ...etc.)

Frips and Fraps

Someone told me that my Saturday post just now showed up today, Tuesday on my blog. I don't know what's going on with that-when I posted Saturday, I took a look at the blog and it was on there, so, go figure. One of those internet anomolies.

Today was busy for me. I got to go to a meeting this morning, then this afternoon, I: observed and worked with a kindergartener who is 7 years old, but yet, is unable to write his name, recognize any letters, or hold his pencil correctly, counseled a student who had an "accident" at school, tried to fix a pair of glasses for a student which needed a screw in the frame, gave a little time and a package of Smarties to a troubled kid for a good day, met with a mental health worker regarding another troubled student, visited with 3 teachers, and, periodically checked on a second grader who came to school so mad he could spit nails about something going on at home, but de-escalated and had a good day. Oh, and helped with 2 suspensions, both for fairly major infractions. There ya go. A somewhat typical day. And, I got to leave at 4:45, which was good.

My son tells me he doesn't read my blog entries because they are way too long. Fine. I'll try to write oftener and shorter. (Maybe.)

Somebody asked me how my health is, since I deleted my health blog. Fine just fine. Last A1C was 5.7. If you're diabetic you know that that is an excellent A1C number. (Waiting for applause.) THEN, my youngest son, a Starbucks junkie (when he has the money) bought a "Java Chip Frap" for me when we were out running errands last Saturday. Applause can stop. I looked up nutritional info on the net. A small one of those (which, you can't get anything "small" at Starbucks, the smallest size is "Tall", does this make sense to you?) was wonderfully refreshing, and, had, (wait for it), ...40 grams of sugar in it. There are 4 grams of sugar in one teaspoon. Putting my math skills to work, I deduced that in one small tall Java Chip Frap, I ingested...ta dah! 10 teaspoons of sugar. I may as well have had a can of real pop, which I have avoided like the plague for the last 3 years. So I told him this, and he looked at me and said, "Well! You cannot do that ANY MORE!!" No kidding, Jack. No more.

Life is good. Even without Java Chip Fraps.

This 'n That

I think I'm about ready to be recouperated from having a 3 day headache and some dizziness-all due to a sinus problem I had no idea I was having. As I explained to the nurse on the phone, I have no drainage, either throat or nose, and had no idea I even had any kind of sinus problem, except for the awful frontal and on top of my head ache which consumed my energies since Wednesday. I thought Thursday that it might be a migraine, however, after taking some sinus pain and pressure decongestants on Friday evening, finally today, I have a little relief. So, maybe it WAS sinus problems and not migraine problems. I dunno. It hurt so bad Thursday night that I would have gladly handed you my head on a platter to do with what you will. So, I didn't go to school Friday, and my son (who has strep) and I made a sickly couple of people in this house.

I've got stuff to do at both schools, so Monday will see a busy week. We have 4 staffings scheduled at one school in September and a couple at the other school, so there's no time to let grass grow under my feet. I've had a week now, to get used to new management styles at both schools, and new staff at both schools, both of these things are sometimes difficult to adjust to, but flexibility must be a part of this job. The "new sheriff in town" is doing a great job, and for the most part, has been well received. There are a few parents who do not appreciate her zero tolerance policy, but they will soon either grow to appreciate it, or transfer their children to another school.

Last night (ironically trying to get to a theater to see "Evan Almighty"), we had rain rain and more rain, and it was very welcome. I kept hoping we would get some heavenly precip so I wouldn't have to water the tomatoes so extensively, but I really waited too long. The one tomato plant is showing signs of distress as the leaves are yellowing, and some tomatoes I picked this morning had mold on them.

I got my car back from the shop and it's just wonderful how it drives now, 1200.00 later. It SHOULD, for that kind of money. The work on our leaky roof will start next week, so there's a lot of money flowing out of our household-actually, there's a lot of introductory offer credit card checks flowing out of our household. If I have to borrow money, I sorta like those 4% interest rates.

Well, I'm going to the fruit store to see if there are any home grown peaches left, then to do some other errands. I like Saturdays, but they go by fast.

A good day

First week of school is over. First DAY of school was this past Wednesday. In "Dodge City" (a reference to the school with a new "Matt Dillon" in town), we suspended a kid at 1:45pm. First day. Thursday the sheriff suspended 2, and Friday, she told 4 kids to go home early. I told her it was getting worse, and she said that actually, she was anticipating suspending at least 10 on Friday, so she thought the day went fine! Her zero tolerance policy will get a workout in the next two weeks, as many of our troublemakers are still on a "honeymoon". There's another situation developing with a student who is never picked up on time after school. She sadly waits in the front of the school for sometimes as long as an hour. Not surprisingly, she is one of our students who also has behavioral issues (she was suspended the 2nd day of school), but yesterday, she flew into my office after the bell rang and announced to me that she had had a good day. When I inquired about her day and gave her a thumbs up, she said, "I had a good day because I did NOT get into trouble!" And grinned at me. Knowing quite a bit about her, I know that school is about the only place where adults care what happens to her. As her "village", what an awesome responsibility we have!

Two blogs are not a good idea

Don't send me an email telling me my health blog link doesn't work because I deleted it. I found it difficult to post to TWO blogs (imagine that). I think someone in my family, or even more than one someone told me I was ambitious to try to keep up with two. I may try again sometime, but for now, we'll just see if we can post on this one regularly. Yeah. Post regularly. What a concept!

So I've been through 4 days of inservice. I have one more to go, tomorrow, then school starts on Wednesday. For you teachers, I know inservices are not your favorite thing to do, and they are for sure something I approach with dread. We were in the library today, discussing data points, local, district, and state assessments, curriculum changes, yadda yadda yadda. Nothing was really applicable to me and how I do my job, yet, I was required to attend. Now, I will say, I have been to a few meetings over the past several days that WERE applicable to me, and not only that, were, get a hold of yourself, semi-enjoyable. For example, tomorrow is "BIST" training, and I'm looking forward to learning how to implement this new behavior program at one of my schools. Also tomorrow night is open house, and I will be in attendance at an assembly, where our new principal is going to not only welcome parents, but make her expectations for their children very clear. It'll be interesting. She was assigned to us to help us get things under control and my oh my, I am so very impressed with this outspoken, talented, and firmly compassionate educator! I hope to have good news to report all year from this little formerly hopelessly dysfunctional little school.

In other news, as it is in most of the central region of the United States, it is hot hot hot here. We had buckets of rain and more rain from March to July, now it's hot and dry and even though it's August, in Kansas, and it's supposed to be hot, people seem to be surprised by this turn of events. "My it's hot!" That's what ya get when you live in AC most of the time. When I was a kid, I didn't know it was unbearably hot. I just knew it was summer, and there were all kinds of things to do outside. Building treehouses, jumping off an 8 foot step ladder onto a gunny sack swing suspended in the air, picking rows of green beans and digging potatoes, skating, (remember the metal skates that you needed a skate KEY to tighten, and that pinched your toes?), playing in the dirt, riding bikes, playing "hide and seek" or "kick the can", even making mud pies once in a great while were all to be had, just by stepping out the back door.

Well, enough reminiscing. This will make me nostalgic and I don't wanna go there!

Are you enjoying any garden tomatoes? I finally had several that turned color all at once and although they are kinda ugly and cracked, they really taste pretty good. The grape tomatoes are nice and sweet. Enjoy the last vestiges of your garden, and your hot hot summer-beautiful fall will be here before you know it.

Vacation is about over!

Wow. It's been like 3 weeks since I've blogged. Good heavenly days. It's just been one day right after another. !

My brother blogs much more faithfully than I do, and I enjoy reading what he's been up to on a daily basis. Maybe I think he has a more exciting life than me, and in some ways, he does. He's WORKING this summer, and I, well, I did not have to be employed. How cool is that!

Speaking of work, I get to go back on August 8, which is next Wednesday. I did make a visit to both schools this last week, and met with both principals, as well as the psych coordinator downtown. All meetings were productive, which is not what I'm going to be able to assert after 5 days of inservice meetings, the 8th, 9th, 10th, 13th, and 14th. School starts here on the 15th, which is fairly early.

Have any of you heard of "BIST"? It stands for "Behavior Intervention Support Team", and is a program one of my schools is adopting in order to deal with problem student behavior. The website is http://www.bist.org/index.html . I get to attend an all day session in order to learn about this program. I gotta tell you, this school needs to do SOMETHING in order to get things under control besides just a change of staff. In MY day (don't you just love it when old people like me start out sentences with, "In MY day...") you could get in trouble in school for: chewing gum, if you were female-wearing jeans or slacks, closing a classroom window, not showing up to class without parents calling in, backtalking a teacher, and printing assignments rather than using cursive writing. At this particular school I'm at, one day last year we had a student bring marijuana in a pocket in his shoe, and another student bring a pellet gun. All in one day. We expelled several students, and there were many days that cops were throughout our building. Neighborhood shootings were in the news. Yet for the most part, teachers did an admirable job.

Did I say I'm looking forward to this year? I am. I really am.

Work work work

So, how many days before I go back to work? It's looming over me like a, a, an ax? Well, not quite that bad. Let's see. I go back August 8, so it's 3 weeks from today. Aaauggh. I STILL have two closets to clean out, however, I've managed to keep somewhat busy this summer. I've volunteered some at Maude Carpenter's Children's Home. I've done some landscaping and kept up the yard work. However, I have not done much reading, nor have I practiced the piano like I thought I would.

We have 5 days of service (great. I LOVE sitting on those child size wooden chairs in the library all DAY), then school starts on the 15th. I'm hoping to spend some time at each school's inservice as there is new significant staff at each place. Actually, I hate to admit this, and if you accuse me of saying it, I'll deny it, but I think I'll sorta be ready to go back to work. There. I said it. Although I enjoy just sorta putzing around, and setting my own schedule for the most part and being lazy some, and doing all those things that come with "vacation", I really have to, well, there's no good way to say it, but I really have to work at working. Like many others, my natural inclination is to avoid work, however, I'm thinking about a movie I saw yesterday. "The Ultimate Gift" made the point that the ability to work and even work itself, is a gift. If you haven't seen this movie, I would encourage you to rent the DVD. It'll be worth your time.

Wasting time

It's time to update my now discouraged readers about what's been going on since, oh, when was the last time I posted? June 22?

I've gone to a nephew's wedding and helped to rennovate a house that my brother owns...not just ANY house, but the house we grew up in. My brother bought it after my parents died and raised his own boys there until he moved a few years ago. It's located in a small town south of here, and to everyone but just a few, it's a nondescript run down little house on a piece of property not worth much, but to me, it means more than that. Realistically, my brother really needs to sell it instead of renting it out, and I truly hope he can sell it. It has become a liability to him as renters have not been kind to it. So, I did all sorts of manual labor I'm not used to, but since all my siblings were there and other family as well, I enjoyed the work.

The wedding was very nice, and a big official welcome to Katie, the woman who is making my nephew "Mike" (I always called him Michael, but things change...) a happy man. I hope to get to know Katie - there hasn't been much opportunity to just visit. I think I scared her off at our first meeting, and she's not sure what to think of me, but hopefully, she'll realize that I'm not that horrifying to be around. I would discuss why it is that Katie got scared, but, let's just say it involved an old cat and a betting pool.

Not a lot happening in the school psychology field. I realized I have less than a month to go before reporting back to school (aauggh!!) and many more things to accomplish before then. For example, I'd like to at least get ONE ripe tomato off of ONE of my tomato plants. Would that be too much to ask? Maybe.

I hate to admit this, but I've been wasting some time looking at YouTube. Specifically, I've been watching old Johnny Carson clips, and here's the link to one classic: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpVjW30I-YU
I've watched this twice now, and it just cracks me up. If the link doesn't work, go to youtube.com and search for "Copper Clappers". So that got me started watching other Carson clips - check out the one where the marmoset sits on his head.

Watching these old clips got me to thinking about that comedian-pianist, Victor Borge, so I searched for him on YouTube and watched some of his schtick. Remember him? I've about decided you can find anything on the net.

A Three Act Play

Just when I think I've about got a handle on understanding my eccentric oldest son, I get to experience a new high. Imagine a parking meter post, without the parking meter. In other words, a pipe sticking out of the sidewalk where a parking meter used to be, about 3 inches in diameter. As you will note, the pipe has no end cap. This post is located in downtown Wichita near a busy street corner. And so, the story begins.

Characters: Mom, Bruce, Rebekah, Joshua, Daniel

Setting: Downtown Wichita, 12:30 pm, corner of Waco and Douglas

Occasion: Three adult children, grateful for their father's influence, guidance and fun times over the years, decide to take him out for lunch along with their mother and give him the Father's Day gifts they have purchased.

ACT 1

Scene 1

Mom: Here we are kids. This is where your dad would like to eat lunch.

(Parks the car along Waco, heading north.) Let's wait on the corner for him as he will be walking from work.

Kids: Swell!

Mom: Here comes father!

Kids: Father! (Hugs all around.)

Scene 2

Rebekah: Here you are dad. Presents new portable CD player.

Joshua: Here you are dad. Presents new coffee cup.

Daniel: I already gave you my gift ON the day. (A pair of khaki shorts.)

Bruce: Thank you! I'm so grateful for such wonderful children!

Scene 3

Mom: Joshua, why don't you take the gifts and put them in the trunk of the car. Here are the keys.

Joshua: Okay. (Walks to trunk, opens it, puts gifts in trunk. Closes trunk.)

ACT 2

Scene 1

Mom: Joshua, what are you doing? Let's go eat! (Pointing to the Broadview Hotel across the street.)

Joshua: Um, I have a problem. (Looking in parking meter pipe, laughing.)

Mom: What is it? (walking over to Joshua)

Joshua: I, um...(points in pipe).

Mom: Aaauuggghhh!

Scene 2

Mom surveys pipe. Keys are down in the pipe about 8 inches from the top of the pipe. Joshua is attempting to stick his hand down the pipe to retrieve the keys.

Mom: (Too dumbfounded to use any words to express thoughts.)

Daniel: HA HA!! Let me take a picture!

Rebekah: What have you DONE, you dork!

Bruce: Well, we gotta think of SOMETHING...

Scene 3

The family walks to the restaurant. Joshua is made to understand during the walk that he must figure something out to retrieve mom's keys. While waiting to be seated, Joshua asks the desk clerk for a wire coat hanger, and is informed that they only have wooden hangers in their hotel.

Joshua: Hmm. I guess I could walk back to the house and get a hanger.

Mom: I guess you could.

Dad: I'm hungry! It smells like chicken in here!

ACT 3

Scene 1

Joshua arrives about 30 minutes later with a wire hanger.

Dad: I'm going to watch this.

Daniel: I'm going to watch this.

Mom: I'm too nervous to watch.

Rebekah: I'll stay with you.

Scene 2

After several minutes, the men come back in the dining room triumphantly exalting over the successful fishing expedition.

Joshua: Look! (Waves keys at mom)

Mom: Great.

Joshua: We also fished around in the pipe for other stuff...(tosses a single key for some sort of briefcase on the table.)

Mom. Great.

THE END

Of wet carpets and city life

I'm sitting out here on my screened in porch, hoping that in this 90% humidity, my carpets I just had cleaned this morning will dry. We've been farkeling with carpet cleaning since Tuesday, when the guy started the job by spraying everything with "pre-treatment", then went out to start the steam machine, and it wouldn't stay running. Long story short, he finally came back this morning and finished the job, so since Tuesday morning, we've had things picked up and stacked waiting for the cleaning, now, we're still not put back together because it will be a YEAR before the carpet is finally dry. But it looks much better. I paid extra for "Scotchguard", but as I was writing the check out to the man, I wondered how I would know if he actually did "Scotchguard" as he said he would.

Rain, rain, and more rain. The yard is, in the next couple of days, going to get way out of control as I haven't been able to mow. Basements which never had problems with water seepage are flooding. Everything is damp, moist, and mildewy. Farmers are not able to get the wheat harvest underway. Even if they could get in the fields to cut the wheat, the grain would have too much moisture to be acceptable. What we need is, and I hate to say this, but it's true - we need about a week of 100 degree sunny weather. The farmers would love it, as would my wet carpeting.

As I'm sitting here, listening to the birds in the trees, I'm thinking that living here isn't so bad, then I become aware of all the other city noises crowding in around me. I am within about 6 city blocks of one of the busiest thoroughfares in this city, and there's always, 24 hours a day, the nondiscript sounds of thousands of cars a day from this road which wafts onto my peaceful porch. Then you've got helicopters circling, airplanes both commercial and military as McConnell is south and east of here, and if that isn't enough, there's a train crossing just 2 blocks away. For many years we had a fire station within what looks to me like a football field's distance away. You can almost always hear sirens, and let's not forget car radios as people drive by with their windows down. Do you ever get tired of noise? I do. If God's willing, and works it out, someday I hope to leave the cacophony of the city. I'll invite you to come out to my place. We'll sit on the porch and drink coffee, and take in the sounds of life away from Wichita. That'll be a welcome change.

Calling for volunteers

The mind is a terrible thing to waste. So they say. At the conclusion of this, my second week off work, I am getting caught up on journal readings and getting ready to do some research in the stacks at WSU. Another goal is to give the Stanford-Binet V at least 4 times this summer. (To that end, I need some SB-V guinea pigs. If you're interested, I need about 2 hours of your time, and, you will receive a small gift prize for participating.) For those of you school psychs reading this blog, what do you think of the SB-V, besides the obvious (cumbersome, complicated, many manipulatives to keep track of, etc.) I'd like to learn to give it so that it can be an option in some evaluations (there is no "standard battery"), but am also anxious to see what the DAS-II is going to be like. I have reservations about using the Wechsler in certain instances, so am needing to become more skilled with other instruments.

Here's a question for you, my readers, no matter who you are: What are you enjoying about your life right now? Or are you?

Weekly activities

The quest to document summer activities continues-when I go back and re-read this, I want to see how I spent my time and why it went by so fast.

This week I've sprayed weeds, am cleaning up flower beds, bought some flowers, and am clearing brush in the corner of the backyard. I need to do some trimming, and pile some things up to go to the dump. You might be interested in knowing that I have an old-fashioned clothesline in my backyard and I've got my sheets hanging out to dry! In this wind, it'll take about 5 minutes.

Let's see, yesterday I went to Harper with my brother to look over his property situation there - sad news all the way around. Let's just say that the world would be a better place if people actually did what they promised they would do.

I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon to discuss why I'm not feeling well a lot of the time-he's thinking it's a reaction to the cholesterol med. I'm hoping we can find a good solution to that problem.

The neighbor to the north of my house told me today that she noticed the license tag was missing from my husband's car on Sunday when she walked back from church. Great. Today's Wednesday. I called him at work, he went out to look, and sure enough, the tag is gone. So now it's off to Auto Zone where my son works to get some anti-theft lock screws, and to the tag place to get a replacement. This is the second tag we've had stolen in the last several months. And you wonder why I hate living in this neighborhood...

And that's about it. Oh, and Happy Birthday to my little brother who turns 47 today - he probably doesn't read this blog, but I'm so appreciative of him and his family. He's a great dad, a nice brother most of the time (!), intelligent, and works hard. Oh, and did I mention that he's pretty funny? He makes me laugh - (tee hee!)

Already Friday?

In my quest to note what I have done while on summer break, I will again bore you with trivial trivialities. This is actually just for me, so that I can look back and see that I really didn't while away the hours doing nothing.

Yesterday I had a bone density scan and an appointment with the doc to go over test results, which, I will write about on my other blog. Lunch with a friend followed that, then home for a little bit (long enough to read the paper), then off with my daughter to my little home town to collect the flowers from the cemetery that we placed there on Monday. Home, and to bed fairly early as for some reason, I was tired.

And, on my busy agenda today, I'm planning on a major shopping spree at the grocery store (haven't been major grocery shopping for weeks), a walk in the park, and working on assorted projects here at home (i.e., laundry, getting summer clothes out and winter clothes put away, etc.)

Just so you know, I'm not sitting around drinking a mai tai while a pool boy named Enrique fans me with a large palm leaf. (Although...hmm.)

Wednesday

Yesterday as I mentioned, I did some yard work, and I did walk with the SIL, however, she's accomplished at this and I'm sure she felt like she was dragging me along toward the end of the trail. I decided that i wasn't going to walk on the days that I mow, however, I HAD to mow last night because we have 3 more days of rain coming and the grass was already high in the backyard. SO, not only did I walk like a banshee, but I mowed for an hour and a half. Frequent breaks drinking water helped, but I had a sugar low in the evening, even with a snack. And, an update about the ants on the forsythia, as I stepped out on the porch, I noticed a couple of birds having lunch with ant souffle as the main course, so I did not spread any poison around. If they help with the problem, that would be great, just great.

So, today I'm finishing up the mandatory 12 hours of "Diversity Training" that this school district requires of its new employees. I'll be there all day, morning, and afternoon sessions. Can I sigh now, or are you going to make me wait until it's all over?

I told my brother I can condense 12 hours of diversity training into an 8 word sentence. Here it is: "We're all different, but we're all the same." There ya go. However, if anyone at the district ever figured that out, a few people would lose some well-paying jobs. I have already been to half of this training and if you held a loaded water pistol filled with icy slush to my head, I could not begin to tell you what we "learned".

As a side note, happy birthday to my nephew John who turned 12 yesterday! It seems impossible that he would be this age, but that's what old people say when trying to contend with the passage of time.

Happy Wednesday!

First day work

So, it's Tuesday, the first day of my summer "vacation". I've already gotten some things done, but I've also just enjoyed not thinking about work.

One of the things I did was probably trivial, (as is everything I write about), but I feel better having done it. I have a rather large forsythia growing in front of my house. I did not trim it last year, and with all the rain this spring, this bush became very tall and unkempt. It didn't even bloom very well this spring, but we had a late frost and I think that got it. Anyhow, I hauled out my loppers and my hand shears and gave it an army haircut. In doing so, I discovered a whole world of black ants underneath it, traveling up and down the branches, turning the forsythia into a mass transit system. SO, now I need to find ant repellent-I have some in the shed, but, it looks like rain, and you can't use it if it will rain in the next few hours, yadda yadda. My son and I loaded up the forsythia brush, 3 old storm doors, and various other disposables and headed to the transfer station, where a waiting loader piled our refuse into a truck, which hauled it, along with the refuse of all the rest of Wichita, down to a landfill south of here about 40 miles.

Laundry is working, and now I need to make a trip to Sedgwick County Hazardous Waste Disposal to get rid of some old paint cans. Next on the agenda will be a walk at Sedgwick County park with my sister-in-law, the power walker and fitness buff. I'm glad to be going with someone since I lost my previous partner.

Well, Dan's ready to help load cans up, so off I go.

To all my faithful readers who have given up on me ever posting again, I say, I'm BACK. I apologize for not posting since last April 21, but I'm going to able to do so with regularity at this point.

School was out yesterday. Today is "teacher work day". You pack up your stuff, you return test kits etc to downtown, you take home what you want home, and you bid a fond farewell to your schools. We started the day out with breakfast at Kensler-oh my. There was some blueberry french toast casserole, egg casseroles, fruit, bagels, muffins, sausage gravy, juice, coffee, etc etc. We had a meeting to honor our retirees and wrap things up, then off to my office I went. I spent the morning filing and putting things away, then went to Clark and wrapped things up there by having, of all things, a meeting with a parent! I also met the new principal, who is bringing 4 teachers with her from her previous school, and I gotta tell you, she impresses me. I'm looking forward to working with her.

So, school's out. Two months are stretched before me, but I've heard time flies by quickly. I have a lot of projects I want to get done, one of the first is, a cleaning out of my house and a possible yard sale. I've never been one to set pretty things around and to decorate (I inherited my mother's gene for functionalism instead of beauty), but I do want to do some painting and I dunno, I MIGHT buy some new curtains. We'll see. If I could afford it, I would pay an interior designer to come in and just do some simple things for me. I DO, however, have two nieces who could do a pretty good job with that...you wanna help me this summer Nicole and Michele?

I also managed to have a complete physical a couple of weeks ago, and will go in next week for test results, so will write about those on my other blog, "A Decision for Health". I guess I could put a link on here if I could figure out how to do that...

Unexpected shuffle

Today is Saturday, warm, windy, and a nice spring-like day. I got to sleep in until 8:00 today! Woo hoo! I've had "company" since early this afternoon, and now everyone has gone, continuing on the errands they began earlier in the day.

I'm trying to get used to the earphones that came with the MP3 player my better half got me for our anniversary (31 years next week, thank you very much.) I've always known my ears are weird. They are a little smaller than normal, and I have no "lobe crease" as my son says, to hang these little earphone things on. They are fairly uncomfortable. I may need to invest in the big kind that go over your whole ear, since these aren't working very well. I'm doing good, however. I've got Rich Mullins singing in my ear (apologies to Jay).

Well, in the world of this school psychologist, I've found that things can change day by day, sometimes minute to minute. The meeting with the upset parents/guardians that I had on Tuesday morning was one of those resolution "can't we all get along-you give a little and we'll give a little" meetings. It seems to me like ONE SIDE gave a lot and the other side gave a little, but oh well. We have a plan. Some details were hammered out that I would spell out here, but because they are so specific to the case, I cannot - the situation could be too easily identified. But if those of you who are school psychologists or interns are reading this blog and would like to know more, please email me. I could in a conversation divulge a bit more in general terms - and some advice about a pitfall to avoid.

And, this past week, I got to take a stand for ethical principles. At one school, we have a case sliding headlong into the wrong direction, at the advice of someone the rest of the team listened to when they shouldn't have. I'm not listening to that person. I'm not following that person, or the team's recommendation. And I will dissent legally if it comes to that. A sticky situation indeed. But, the time has come to stand on what's right.

At both my schools, the principals will be leaving. One is retiring, and one is moving to another school. I also got an email saying that I may not be able to stay at my schools next fall as was promised because of "unexpected shuffle". That's the story of our lives, isn't it! Unexpected shuffle happens to everybody, and it can really mess things up. We think it does anyway because we have a short-sighted way of looking at one small part of the picture.

Happy only what, 4 weeks left...

Cold and Heat

After a spring snow last weekend, it's finally turning warmer. On the way between schools yesterday, I ran my car's air conditioner. Is it only in Kansas where you would wear a winter coat, gloves, and muffler, and run the car heater at full force one day, then 2 days later turn on the air conditioner? It's crazy. The cold weather got the early rosebuds, froze the peony plant that had straggled up, and nipped the buds off the mini-lilac bush. Fine. Whatever.

This week I really must work steadily on the paper for Internship class that's due, and my oral defense. I just can't believe how much work this is. In visiting with another psych who went through this program two years ago, she made the comment that it didn't seem fair to load a first year school psychologist with a job that's overwhelming, PLUS class work in addition to that. She said the second year is much better. I hear the same thing from my sister-in-law, who is an excellent teacher working in a nearby district. I receive these words joyfully because they give me hope that maybe I won't always feel like this. Will I?

It's the usual end of the year rush to get kids evaluations in, but I'm doing okay. At both schools, I was able to hold the line in terms of, "let's evaluate the ones who are the worst of the worst" and save the rest until the first of next year. Sad part is, some of the worst of the worst do not qualify for services. In one of my schools last year, they did 10 staffings the last week of school. Sorry, I'm just not going to do that.

I met with the overseer of psychological services yesterday. Yes, I do have a job for next year. And yes, she thinks I can stay at the same schools. There's good reason sometimes to change, but there's also comfort in familiarity.

Off to the 8:00 meeting with the parents/guardians who are upset that our team decided not to evaluate their child. We'll have a couple of district personnel there to help facilitate the meeting, and we'll see how far we get. Then it's to the other school for a staffing, then back to the other school for the rest of the day.

28 days and holding

After today, there are 28 days left until school is out. I always thought I could do anything for 28 days. Now, I'm not sure.

I have 2-3 and sometimes 4 staffings weekly between my two schools. I have training sessions, internship class, and the internship class case study and oral defense to prepare for. There are rather serious issues going on at both schools - at one school, the parent I wrote about several posts ago who objected to a recommendation I made - this parent has filed an appeal and are exercising their rights to a resolution meeting, then a mediation meeting, then an appeal hearing. Next week, I must attend the first of these, the "resolution meeting". Also in attendance in addition to particular school staff will be the special education coordinator for our building, and a district lawyer. The parent may also bring a lawyer. I'm hoping I won't have to say a lot with the downtown person and the two lawyers present. The meeting is early in the morning. Suffice it to say, I won't be eating before I go.

At my other school, chaos reigns due to several issues, the most notable being the untimely death of a special education teacher last weekend. This week is state assessments and the SPED kids are having a tough time, but the state and fed officials do not take into account these environmental issues when they look for reasons that scores are low on these assessments. We won't know the scores until next August, but I'm sure the SPED kids were not able to perform their best. Other issues at this school are weighing heavily upon me, and I will not be able to comment about them on this public blog for awhile yet, but comment about them, I shall. They are issues that really have a bearing on how efficiently a school functions.

Also this week, I've upset a teacher who complained to another staff member about me. This other staff member informed me about what she said, and, you'll be happy to know that I blew it off. I don't have time to get involved in dramatic presentations at my job. I just try to do my job. And, finally, this week, in the what I have learned category, I have (re) learned that when something's your responsibility, and when someone offers to take care of this thing that's your responsibility, and then DOESN'T, the buck still stops with you. You're still responsible. You cannot point fingers and blame the someone else who offered to take care of this particular thing. Because when downtown calls asking about this particular thing, it's not good to say, "Well, so and so offered to take care of that for me, and I gave it to them, but apparently, they DIDN'T take care of that for me, and yes that's my responsibility, and yes, I'm sorry, and yes, I will take care of that immediately." Moral of the story (and haven't we heard this before): Just do it yourself. Figure out who you can trust and not trust. And then, take responsibility for what happens.

There ya go. A whole 4 days summed up.

Monday after Easter

It's back to work on a cold Monday. We were surprised by snow last week, and cold temps. I told somebody that I was refusing to get my winter coat back out, but alas, I broke down and wore it.

Yesterday was Easter, and my son and I attended the presentation of Handel's "Messiah" at Bethany College in Lindsborg. This work has been performed at Bethany by a community chorus and orchestra at least once annually since March 12, 1882. A few interesting notes about "Messiah", it was first performed on April 13, 1742 in Dublin Ireland - Handel was invited by a charitable organization to premiere it there. This invitation arrived at a low point in his life. Several operas he had written had failed, he was in bankruptcy and in danger of being sent to a debtor's prison. He was a man who had been deserted by friends and family, and it was said that he was through as a composer. In accepting this invitation, his hope was that he might be able to change the course of his life.

"Messiah" was composed in 1741. The first part was written in 7 days, the second part in 9 days and the third part in 6 days - in less than 25 days the entire masterpiece was completed. And what a masterpiece it is! If you ever have a chance to hear a live presentation of "Messiah", do not miss it. We hear bits and pieces of choruses or words from this work, but hearing all of it in totality is an experience you won't soon forget.

Time to get to work. Besides the "normal" stuff of this job, there's a lot of work yet to be done for this internship class. You know where I'll be in the evenings after school. That's right, working on a paper and presentation which is due April 24. That's where I'll be.

May all of you reading this blog have a blessed and productive week. I'll write again soon.

Secrets

It's Sunday morning. I'm up early, showered, washed a few dishes, put a ham in the crockpot, gotten the paper off the porch, unloaded the dishwasher, and made coffee. It's not because I'm all perky. It's because for some reason if I wake up before the alarm wakes me up, I may as well give it up and get up because I cannot go back to sleep. Ever. Things start rolling around in my head and I can't stem the tide of thoughts that are already starting to race around-thoughts about the day ahead, about my job (yes, even on the weekends), about problems, both large and small.

This morning, though, I have a confession to make to all my faithful readers. I stayed up way too late last night (midnight) and watched an old movie that was on the classic movie channel - "Deliverance". Now stop laughing, I hear it way over here. That's right, I stayed up to watch Deliverance. I knew what the story was about, and had seen bits of it over the years, but once I got started watching, I couldn't stop. In case you've forgotten, this odd movie, made in 1972 (my graduation year from high school), starred Burt Reynolds, Jon Voight, Ned Beatty, and Ronny Cox as four businessmen who take a canoe trip together away from civilization. As I recall, it was newsworthy at its release because of its extremely graphic violence - even now, the TV version is a little hard to sit through - I could not watch the uncut version. And now I have that "Dueling Banjos" tune running through my head. Great. But it was an interesting psychological study of what lengths people will go to bury their sins (so to speak). There are people living with us who have enormous secrets they are going to take to their graves. People you might know and work with, or go to church with, or who might check out your groceries at the store, or teach your children at school. Ever think about that?

There is a website I read every week, not for the fainthearted, and I'm warning you, there's adult content on there so don't say I didn't tell you. It's www.postsecret.com. People mail their secrets in on postcards to the webmaster who posts them on this site. It's amazing what people will post so publically but so anonymously. Take a look sometime if you've got the nerve.