Trains

Sitting in the chair, she drew the sweater around her and shivered.  It was late January by the calendar, and as she looked out of the window near her chair, the yard light cast a glow on new fallen snow.  Glancing at the clock she sighed as the time crept by ever so slowly.  It was one of those nights.  She had let the tears spill down and now, she waited for the blessed relief of sleep.  The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall, but every once in awhile a gust of wind swept around the corner and whistled as it danced along the old shingle siding. 

Nights like this stretched so intermittably long.  Her thoughts drifted, as they did so often, to what her life was like before, and now.  Now, Papa was gone.  An old man full of years, yes, and those years were spent in her care.  Papa was her responsibility - one that she cherished and took upon herself without hardly a second thought.  She had opportunity to marry any of a number of promising young men when she was in her 20's and 30's and some not so young who sought her out as she grew older.  But, no, that kind of life - the one her sisters and friends found so effortlessly, was not to be her choice.  She knew early on her life was with Papa, and in providing for him - and provide she did.  But now, well, Papa took a final breath, and went home last month, leaving her in an empty house with memories, and pictures, and the cadence of the trains as they rumbled over the tracks and clattered into the night.

She still listened for his footsteps on the floorboards and the creak of his mattress as he turned in bed.  Those sounds  were not to be - but several hundred yards away - the trains came and went, all hours, all through the night.  They ran on a schedule, whistling long and loud as they passed the crossing near her old home. Like beacons in the night - the westbound locomotives headed toward the California coast and the eastbound freighters chugged toward Kansas City and Chicago - each one manned by an engineer, whose job was to blow the whistle as the train went through the crossing. 

40 or 50 trains a day clipping by become an accompaniment to the gardening, the chicken house cleaning, the yard work, or the visiting on the porch. But often, Papa stopped his work to watch the trains roar by, 70, 80, 90 miles an hour as they pulled car after car loaded with wheat, oil, new automobiles, or coal. At night the sweet music of the fast clickity clack along the corridor was a reminder that business and life, proceed as usual through the midnight of sleep.

12:22am.  The discordant wail of a three note blast broke the silence.  He's a little late this evening, she thought.  The notes hung in the air.  The hand on the noisy whistle had rules to follow regarding when to begin to blow, how long to hold it open, and how many times to press the button as the train sped through the north end of the sleeping town.  The engineer peered out the window of the locomotive and spotted a faint yellowish glow coming from the west window of the little brown house.  Someone's up late, he thought. 

She sat in the glow of the lamp, listening to the noise from the wheels and the whistle fade away, oddly comforted, somehow feeling as if an old friend had stopped by to visit and then left in a noisy hurry to get to another destination.  Getting up from her chair, she turned out the lamp and wearily climbed into the wrought iron framed bed.  Pulling the heavy quilt up to her chin, she listened for the trains' songs.  As the melodies echoed through the night, they wrapped her in peace, and she slept, dreaming of a life past.        



 

I'm a basket case

I'm so sad that I have this blog, and that I cannot seem to think about writing in it.  I enjoy writing, I like trying to express my thoughts with words, yet, the discipline of doing this eludes me.  I do not understand why I have such difficulty with this, yet, it is something I cannot give up on.  There's so much about my life that I'd like to be different  - yes, I may have a calm exterior, but inwardly, I am so in a turmoil about things.

It's my birthday today.  Actually, I see that it's 12:27 am November 19th, so it was my birthday yesterday.  I had a GREAT DAY.  I had lunch with my kids, Reb and I got our hair done, I took a nap, I took the afternoon off work, and we had dinner at Spears with my extended family.  I love love love family time together.

I need to head to bed as tomorrow Jay and I are visiting Jane and taking Rebekah with us.  In the evening the spouse and I are headed to the symphony concert, as we got some free tickets.  I am so blessed- and so confused! 

Comments a la carte

Beautiful weather!  We enjoyed a hot dog roast, croquet, and visiting over at my brother's this evening.  I saw, for the first time in many years, a shooting star.  It was quick and over almost before it begun - if I would have blinked, I would have missed it. 

Today I ripped out all the garden plants that were struggling along.  I gave up - BUT, I'm thinking about planting a fall garden.  I've got bean and beet seeds - could it be that I could actually grow something now that the weather has moderated?  Hope springs eternal...  We're working on putting in two more boxes along the back fence.  I really like this "box garden bed" concept.  We have to clear out years of honeysuckle vine first, so it'll be awhile.

I'm reading "The Help".  I can't put it down!  Well I can, but it's difficult.  What a great book - I can't wait to see the movie. 

After a rousing chorus of the neighbor's three dogs barking for almost an hour today I'm this much closer to checking on getting a privacy fence put up.  Yes, they'll still bark at me, but I won't SEE them.  I think that'll help.  Please, God, make it stop.

Problems at church.  Problems at work.  Problems with family.  Problems all around.  What's the old adage - do what you can about the things you CAN control, everything else, let it go.  I need to be reminded of that every once in awhile.

I can usually work the sudoku puzzle all the way up to Thursday, most of the time I can get Friday's, and rarely, I can get Saturdays.  I usually try to work the Cryptoquip and the Jumble too.  Sometimes I wonder if that's the only reason I subscribe to the daily paper.  That and the comics.  Love Pickles, Zits, Sherman's Lagoon, and Non Sequitur.

Speaking of Non Sequitur, did you know that it's Latin for "it does not follow"?  In formal logic, it is an argument which its conclusion does not follow its premises.  For example:  in advertising - a commercial might state if you do not buy this brand of dog food, you do not love your dog.   Wiki goes on to give several other examples of different non sequiturs. 

It's late.  Time to get to bed, in order to, get up early, in order to, go to work tomorrow, in order to, come home, in order to, go to bed, in order to, get up early, in order to...  well, you get my drift.  Have a good week. 

A long two weeks

It has been a difficult, long, last two weeks. Briefly, there was a crisis which touched one of the schools I serve.  It was an incident of domestic violence where one of our first graders was shot to death, her 4th grade sister critically wounded, and her mother and grandmother wounded as well.  The little girl's funeral was yesterday, and although I did not go, it certainly was uppermost in my thoughts as I worked at school.
Events like this always cause me to reassess my worldview regarding good and evil, of what happens when you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who really is in control of what in this universe.  I am finding that really, when I'm called on to serve in a crisis, I can do that running purely on what I know my job is and what I have to do.  It's usually days later before I really begin to mull things over and process the horrific nature of what happened, and then begin to put it in proper persepctive in my mental filing cabinet.  PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) occurs when that system breaks down.  Sometimes people have to deal with trauma, tragedy, and things too indescribable to talk about - and I wonder if those who truly suffer from this disorder ever can regain a sense of normalacy about life. 

Rest in peace, Reimy.  I pray Dayonara recovers, and certainly for her mother and grandmother as well - the healing required to deal with this tragedy will be much more than just physical. 

Buddy

 
Buddy was a member of my friend Julie's family.  This is one of the last pictures taken of him, which she posted on facebook.  She titled it:  "You walked through my heart and right into heaven...I love you my Buddy!  PS:  I bet you're already catching birds and bunnies:) "  Julie and her family made the very difficult decision to ask a vet to come to their house and administer a shot to this beautiful dog.  He was old for a lab, and had some serious, chronic, health problems which were growing worse by the day.  He was a trained therapy dog, and Julie brought him to Kensler the first two years I worked there, however, the third year, he retired as he was just not feeling well enough to stay all day and do his job.  But he LOVED working, and when she walked in with him in the mornings, he bounded through the halls, ready to be of assistance to children who needed some unconditional love that day.  When his collar and harness were on, he was one of the most obedient dogs I've ever known.  He was well trained, and oftentimes, a look or a snap of Julie's fingers would bring him into willing compliance. 
 
I gained information about therapy dogs - how they are trained to leave food they find on the floor and in fact, do not sniff toward plates or tables, how they are tolerant of hugs and kisses and "mauling" by kids, and of how they with one word stop, heel, stay, sit, lie down, or walk.  But really, the one thing about Buddy - he was trained to not show pain.  So although he lived with chronic pain issues, he did not complain or whine.  Julie said that therapy dogs especially those who are labs, will wear their bodies out, but their hearts keep beating, they keep hanging on, they never give up.   So many times, they need some assistance to take that final journey. 
 
I looked at the other two pictures of Buddy Julie took today and posted, one of which is below.  His face is so full of expression, but there is a tiredness in his eyes.  I cried as I thought about what Julie and her kids are going through - losing a beloved pet is so heart wrenching you sometimes wonder if it is worth the risk.  I thought of that very thing before adopting Lydia.  There's no right answer the same for everybody, but I have to say, I'm so glad I knew Buddy.  I'm glad I was privileged to work with him and to see him work.  He will be greatly missed!
 
 

 

Blah and More

I've been feeling a little, well, I don't know the proper term, but perhaps "blah" describes it.  I sat down here late tonight to try to write about what's going on, but words fail me.  So when words fail, what's the next best thing?  I don't know for sure - after all, this is a BLOG, and blogs imply written material will be available for your perusal.

Went back to work this week.  I usually don't mind that too much - I like the structure and routine of a work day.  Started on some increased meds for the diabetes and I'm having a few side effects - but nothing terribly major, just inconvenient.  My kids are going through various and sundry difficult times, but so are a lot of people.  Nothing unique there - just sort of heartbreaking but I'm not the first mom to experience that.  I think of those families who lost loved ones this last week in the war - oh my - the devastation that moms and dads, husbands and wives, children, brothers and sisters go through when a loved one gives his or her life military service - I can't imagine.  A few days ago, 30 American soldiers died when their helicopter was fired upon by insurgents. 

So I can count my blessings and come out "in the black" - I always do no matter what has happened.  A certain weariness comes over me though.  Don't know what it is or how to deal with it.  Don't know that it's even that important that I do.  It's really not about me and I was reminded of that in a big way these last few days.  Every once in awhile, we need something to happen to us to help us re-focus on priorities - and we should be grateful when that comes about, painful though it may be. 

Have a good week. 

Reunion Observations

We just got back from a few days in Kentucky, where we shared a resort with other family members we don't get to see very often.  The weather was hot, the accomodations were so-so, but the time together was memorable.

Because the weather was hot, we weren't able to gather outside in groups to chat, so other than the hello hug and goodbye hug, I wasn't able to really visit with some the way I would have liked, and I missed that.  For example, my oldest brother lives in Michigan and the next oldest lives in Texas, so I may see them twice a year, but generally speaking, it's once a year or less.  At this reunion however, I would imagine I didn't chat with either one more than 15 minutes.  Other relatives attending probably got less than that.  I feel badly but am not sure what could have been done differently.

Our extended family has always been cohesive, strong, and supportive but this reunion was a little bumpier than some.  Some misunderstandings were apparent, some things were said, other things were NOT said, and overall, I walked away with an unsettled feeling.  I don't like conflict, but I can tell you that I learned a lot.  You know, we get comfortable viewing life through our perspective and in doing so, this comfort may trick us into the trap of thinking that others see things the same way we do.  The truth of the matter is, we are a widely diverse group who comes together once a year simply because we are connected to the Plank family in some way.  We are 6 siblings who share a biological and historical tie, and we bring with us our spouses, our children and their spouses and children, who, someday, will be gathering for their OWN reunions with their own children and grandchildren.  These are family ties which go back to my parents - John and Estella Plank - and soon, there will be more people in my extended family who never knew my parents than people who did know them.   


So, what this old dog learned from meeting with my extended family for these three somewhat troublesome days is this:  Don't ever take other people's perspectives for granted.  Don't ever assume that you know how someone else feels about something.  Learn what's important and what isn't and let go what isn't.  Learn to appreciate the diversity we have.

Facebook

I've been wanting to write a post about Facebook for several weeks now, and finally have decided, I just need to do it.  I am a relatively new facebooker, having been doing it now for only 2 or 3 years, as opposed to my kids, who have been facebooking almost all their adult lives. 

My husband had a Facebook less than a month before he in frustration, deleted it forever.  He said he could not deal with first of all, people wanting to be his FB friend, when in real life, they hadn't spoken to him in years, and if for some reason, they would have spoken to him, it would be a short conversation and once you catch up, that's it.  Secondly, he had no defense against the "minutia" of information people posted, and found it  hard to understand why they thought he would be interested in knowing that they took their dog to the vet, went to the store, trimmed their toenails, or killed a spider in their house.  He was assaulted with posts from games people were playing and although he blocked them, found it was an ongoing battle he just didn't want to fight.  Thirdly, he rarely statused because, well, he's just sort of a private person.  He doesn't feel the need to tell people he found a good deal on toilet paper or had a flat tire, or threw up his lunch, or whatever.

In so many ways, Facebook has had a gigantic impact on our personal lives, and in our culture.  We post our political and religious opinions, we share articles and videos we find interesting, we comment on others' posts, and we basically, open our lives to those we choose to be friends with, whether they are truly "friends" or not.  My social world has expanded - I am familiar with friends other people are friends with just because of the comments they make on mutual friends' walls.  From today's posts, I know that:  Robert likes "Facing the Giants" movie, that Charles has friended two people I don't know, that my son Dan wants tacos for lunch, that my niece is seeing a 1:00 show, that a school friend is garage saling today and another friend is scrapbooking.  That's just from this morning and I only have a moderate amount of friends.  Our family uses Facebook to send messages and invitations, and, we have a reunion facebook page set up where information is posted that is beneficial to all who are coming.  Overall, I don't object to that, and in fact, I have invited those statuses to be a part of my life because I have ageed to have a Facebook account. 

What's not to like?  Well, here's something that knocks me for a loop from time to time:  A status or opinion which is posted, and which quickly turns into a spirited discussion, which quickly turns into people misunderstanding what someone has posted, which quickly turns into people arguing with each other, and from there, we have people verbally assaulting one another.  I've participated in many civil discussions on facebook, and some not so civil.  Participants are much more likely to respond quickly by typing and in doing so, will write things they might not normally say face to face.  I think people are much more careful about what they say and how they say it when they are actually looking at another human being in the room, however, this is changing rapidly.  People are now living Facebook real lives, and I'll explain more in the next post.  

In the meantime, I solict your opinons - how do you feel Facebook has benefited our lives in a postive way, and how has it negatively impacted you, or society as a whole?

Friends

Today I went out to get the birdfeeders and fill the birdbath.  As I reached to put the one back that hangs in a tree, a little sparrow fluttered within a couple of feet of my arm, as if to say, come on!  We've been starving for days now!  Although this "hobby" can be expensive, I have a budget - otherwise, I'd fill them every couple of days and my WalMart bill would be much larger.  I enjoy doing this - I like seeing the different kinds of birds that come.  Mostly they are common ordinary sparrows and finches, but every once in awhile, I'll see a bluejay, mourning doves, or an orangeish sort of bird I can't identify. 

My lovely daughter in law has this bird feeding thing down to a science.  She made her own squirrel-proof pole, set it in her yard, and from it, hangs several feeders, all of which frustrate the squirrels that live there.  She saw a problem, she came up with a solution, and she implemented it - Why do I think this is a trait sorely missed in our politicians today....  But alas, I digress.

My bird friends like me because I feed them - and they hang around for that reason.  Real friends - now that takes effort to accomplish.  I had lunch with a friend yesterday, and after a mixup about waiting for each other (we were both seated in the same restaurant waiting for each other and never saw one another until I texted her and said, "Where U at?"), we had a nice lunch and took up 2 hours sitting there there chatting.  I treasure these friendships, both of the bird and people variety.

How can I write about friends and not include the one who follows me around all day, even if I'm in the house and walking from room to room, who costs me vet trips and allergy shots, and, who provides companionship, who is a walking partner when it's not hot, and makes me laugh - oh yeah, that's Lydia, my friend of canine persuasion.  

I'm also blessed to call my adult kids and their spouses "friends" in some sense, and my siblings - well I know that if I ever needed anything, these friends would instantly help. 

I'm happy to tell you though, that my spouse is really my best friend.  From feathered, to furry to human - I am blessed.

Summer of 1980 Remembrances

So, how's it going?  I hope the few of you who read this blog are doing ok, even in the extreme heat we are "enjoying" here in S Central Kansas.  Some are comparing this summer to that of 1980 - here's some info about it: 
Sweltering heat took a long, unwelcome vacation in Kansas during the summer of 1980. The blistering heat arrived with a vengeance on June 24th when the mercury soared to 103 degrees. Afternoon high temperatures broke the 100-degree barrier each day for the rest of the month, culminating in a monthly high of 110 degrees on the 30th. The nighttime provided very little in the way of relief as lows in the mid to upper 70s were prevalent during that one-week span. Little did anyone realize that the atmosphere was just getting "warmed up". During July, the heat wave hit full throttle when high temperatures cleared the 100-degree hurdle a staggering 24 out of 31 days, including an eighteen day stretch from the 3rd to the 20th. The 4th was, quite literally, hotter than a firecracker, when another 110-degree reading was achieved. The record heat reached a pinnacle on the 12th, when Wichitans baked in 112-degree temperatures.  It appeared that the heat wave was losing its grip, when a cold front crossing the region on July 21st caused temperatures to "nosedive" back into the mid 90s with overnight lows dropping to near 60 degrees. Not so, as temperatures shot right back up into the 105-110 degree range from the 28th to the 21st. The heat wave that wouldn't die was entering its third month. The record heat didn't break stride as August took the baton and raced to a high of 110 degrees on the 1st. In fact, 11 of the first 13 days of August would see triple-digit highs. It was on the 14th that "the sizzling Summer of 1980" began to east its grip on Kansas, as temperatures settled back into more seasonal levels. However, it was too late, as 20 record high temperatures were set between June 24th and August 13th, all of which stand to this day. During the months of June and July, Wichita's Mid-Continent Airport only received 1.81 inches of rainfall, 0.47 inches of that was in July.


We had moved here from Ft Worth on July 1, with our firstborn baby daughter, who was born in April of that year.  We had a nice apartment with some AC, but it was upstairs and it wasn't able to stay cool.  The word "misery" comes to mind as I remember that summer.  We had help to unpack our truck and haul all of our stuff up a flight of stairs and into our new home - but I recall lots of sweat and effort from those older people in our congregation who came to help us out.  Oh, it was something else! 

Judgment in Word and Picture

I'm the first to admit that I'm a person who finds humor in people watching.  I think people are generally funny and I enjoy observing others in humorous situations.  Ask my youngest son - as he grew up, we shared a lot of "Look at that guy!" moments.  One memorable "look at that guy" moment occurred as I was driving past the Broadway and Pawnee WalMart one day with him in the car and we saw a man walking north on Broadway clad in nothing but a pair of "tighty whiteys".   "LOOK at that guy!!" we both screeched as we went past him. 

 I'm also somewhat of a wordsmith, and, I've been told by some that I have a "dry" sense of humor - I actually looked that up on the "internets" because I wasn't sure what it meant.  I love the humor in the writings of Dave Barry, Garrison Keillor, and others.  I poke fun of people, and I expect it back - with 4 brothers, a sister, 3 kids, and numerous nieces and nephews, all who have advanced funny bones of their own, I can't help but be the end of someone's witty observations.  So I'm ok with that sort of thing.  However, a couple of things occurred recently which help bring me back to the reality that there is a line that should not be crossed.  In our extended family, we sort of know what that line is - we can zing someone but do it respectfully - and, speaking for myself, I may have gotten out of hand a time or two or three - and I do regret when that happens. 

You may be aware that there is a website up and running called "People of Riverfest" - similar to the "People of WalMart" website.  Someone walked around with a camera and took pictures of people at the River Festival which just concluded here in Wichita.  In some pictures the people looked like they were aware they were getting their pictures taken, and were posing, and other pictures were taken more stealthily, with people not aware their images were being captured.  I have been looking at this website the past several days, amazed and aghast at what people wear in public (or don't wear, as the case may be), and have found humor in "Look at that guy!" shots of people who you really wonder if they knew they looked like that before they left the house.  The captions accompanying the photos are sarcastic judgments about the person featured, and yes, I think some people dress like that for attention and to get noticed, ha ha.  However, I was brought up short by a photo - it's of a woman I know.  She is pictured with a caption which implies that she's not too bright in the way she talks.  I found myself oddly offended by this - that someone took it upon themselves to take her picture, then judge her based on what she looked like.  The difference is - I know her.  I've known her for years.  She's a nice person.  She is "needy" but she would not harm anyone, and she just lives life on her terms.  For that, she gets her picture on the internet with a sleazy caption and people commenting about her.  I don't know how I feel about that.  I think there's a hairline difference between posting pictures of and noting people who obviously want attention with how they are dressed (i.e., the two guys wearing nothing but Speedos, or, the woman wearing what looks like a shower curtain, or the drag queens), and posting pictures of people who are "different" but not attention seeking.  I dunno. 

And, in the other situation I found myself in, a person of the younger generation used this phrase "that's so gay" to comment on my son's facebook status this last week.  This person meant, as young people these days mean when they use this term, that my son was nerdy or stupid, or whatever, not necessarily "gay" because of his personal like for a certain kind of music.  You may be aware that that phrase "that's so gay" is commonly used today by mostly kids, teens and twenties, to describe something or somebody in derisive terms, much the same way we used to call people "squares".  I took exception to this person saying that, not because I was offended that she said he was gay, but I was offended that she applied that term to him in a derisive way - she meant that his choice of music was stupid.  A long facebook discussion ensued, with other people jumping in on the topic.  When all was said and done, I hope a couple of kids were enlightened by the offensiveness of this comment.  If I hear a kid say this at school, I call them on it. 

So once again, I am reminded to watch what I say, and temper that sarcastic humor just a bit.  Those people that are being made fun of on websites such as peopleofriverfest.com are somebody's mother, daughter, son, or father.  They are real people, with real feelings - and yes, some crave the attention and like the publicity - others don't deserve the judgment that comes when people make fun of the way they look, dress, or speak. 



   

Is it getting old in here?

For those of you who follow my brother's blog, we smiled at his adventure at WalMart not too many days ago, as he dealt with his "stolen" pickup.  Here is a link to that blog entry in case you're interested.   

http://hubblefan.blogspot.com/

There's no doubt we're getting older.  I now have a WalMart story of my own.  It's not as spectacular as his, but it addresses the same problem - what happens when older people like myself, do things out of the ordinary routine?  Trouble!   That's what happens! 

So, my car was past an oil change.  I zipped into the West Kellogg WalMart to see if they could change it for me.  It'll be an hour and a half, the man said.  I agreed, as I had no pressing engagements, and needed to do some shopping anyway.  I got a cart and off I went.  About 45 minutes later, I was done except for some frozen groceries, so I headed over to the Subway, parked my cart, and got out a book I was buying to read (it's called "The Christian Atheist" in case you're interested).  Soon I was engrossed, but kept an eye on the shopping cart to make sure no one decided it was abandoned and rolled it to customer service.  Time passed quickly.  With about 10 minutes to go before the car was ready, I got my cart, went to frozen foods, got my veggies, then got in line to pay.  I had about half of my groceries on the conveyor belt when I looked at the child's seat I usually put my purse on, and.... no purse.  I'm telling you, there is nothing like the sinking feeling you get when your purse is gone.  It is pure panic.  Immediately I began looking, searching (visually) other shoppers standing in line.  I screeched at the cashier, "My purse is GONE!"  She notifed the CSM.  I had my cell in my pocket so I called my husband, and asked him to come as I had no way to pay for this 100.00 in groceries, bawling on the phone.  The CSM arrived, and with her, 2 people from Loss Prevention, (by the way, they look like ordinary shoppers, dressed in t shirts and shorts).  I described it, and they started looking.  The CSM told me to call 911 immediately so that if my card was used in the store, the bank could confirm it wasn't me.  I picked up my cell again, and had no bars, so I walked over toward the Subway to call.  Just as I dialed 911, my eyes drifted to the Subway, and.....  spotted my purse in the exact same spot I was sitting at 20 minutes ago reading my book. 

Screeching, I made a beeline for it, hanging up on 911 (who immediately called me back and asked if I needed help).  It was zipped shut and in perfect condition.  I showed it to the cashier, and by that time, the LP people had already isolated the video tape of me checking out.  She said, we see the purse in your shopping cart, but the next frame shows it's not.  I told her that I thought I'd left it in the Subway when I was there earlier, and she wasn't so sure, as she says it is visible on the tape. 

At any rate, all is right with the world.  My purse was unattended in that Subway for 20 minutes or more, and I never even missed it as I finished my shopping. 

Here's the best part:  After the whole thing was over, and I was feeling very relieved, I realized I needed to use the restroom, so I parked the cart and went into the nearest restroom (with my purse on my shoulder).  As I sat in the stall, I wondered why there were only two stalls - "I thought the women's room had at least 6", I said to myself.  I finished up, then as I turned to what I thought were sinks when I hurriedly came in, I realized they were indeed, yes, they were urinals.  For about 3 seconds I was aghast at what I had done, then calmly walked out, not caring - hey - I had my purse!  Things were great! 

Catching Up

Finally, the wind which has battered and beaten everything in its path the last two days has died down and today, May 31, 2011, has dawned sunny with just a little breeze.  My little digital camera I purchased at WalMart a couple of years ago was a victim of my carelessness and yesterday's wind.  I left it in the swing at my brother's house and the wind blew so hard it blew the cushion it was on up from the swing seat, which threw my camera onto the ground.  There's a couple of cracks in it, and although we tried to get it to come on, it is done for.  I LOVED that camera, and I will need to replace it with one like it if I can find one.

Another Memorial Day has come and gone.  Although I was raised to be more of a pacifist, I am so grateful for those who have given their lives for this nation and my home - so that I have the right to hold and speak whatever viewpoints I choose.  I love hearing the stories of veterans, particularly, those of WWII.  I posted on facebook this video of a 93 year old man Larry Hatteberg interviewed for "Hatteberg's People".  If you haven't watched this, I would encourage you to do so.

http://www.kake.com/hattebergpeople/headlines/Hattebergs_People_-_Pastor_H_O_Lindeblad_122809924.html

Notice what this man learned to do at age 91. 

Back to Memorial Day, my young niece and nephew enjoyed wading in the Little Ark river, and, very much enjoyed playing in the mud pit their Uncle Kevin fixed for them.  After baths, they were almost as good as new.  If I can get the pictures off of my memory card from my broken camera, I will try to post some on here and on facebook.  We went to the cemetery the day before, but it was so very windy and hot that it was not conducive for visiting.  We ran into a relative I hadn't seen in awhile, and I was sorry we weren't able to stay longer. 

I also wanted to mention that my daughter-in-law's parents were here over the weekend.  Her mother is an landscaper extraordinaire, and they brought all kinds of plans and plants for my son and DIL's home.  She is what I would consider an "adventurous" landscaper.  She plants things that look really neat, but it takes a brave person to do that and not worry about killing everything.  I'm not a landscaper, and just mow my yard, but, I have experienced good success with my raised garden beds.  I have 2 larger ones, then a smaller one for tomatoes and peppers.  I LOVE it.  I have harvested lettuce, which is done now, and so far, one "vidalia" onion which was planted from an onion set I planted last spring.  As I explained on facebook, it's not a true Vidalia onion, as they only grow in Vidalia County Georgia - and, the one I used in a salad yesterday was kinda spicy!  My potatoes are huge, and peas are blooming.  Beets are up, radishes are up, and green beans are doing well.  If you are thinking about a raised bed, get some good dirt!  I have a recommendation I can give you. 

Today I'm having lunch with Rebekah and getting my hair cut etc.  I love not working at school for awhile, but it seems my days fill up with other stuff pretty quickly.  I have a lot I need to accomplish in the next two months.  I'll keep ya posted. 

Words of hope

This is a chilly, overcast, drizzly, windy Sunday morning.  I am sitting here at the computer, and from my vantage point, I can look out the front window and see a red-headed finch picking up sunflower seeds from my hanging feeder.  He is a spot of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy day.  I am listening to John Michael Talbot's "Pathways of the Shepherd", and this instrumental music brings me peace. 

I take comfort in the fact that my Heavenly Father sees me, as surely as He sees the finch outside.  His presence is here - and it is a reassuring comforting Presence.  Although circumstances in several areas of my life are far from peaceable and pleasant, I rest.  Tears of relief come.  

Truly, the Lord is my Shepherd, and I shall not want.  The words of this familiar Psalm echo in my mind, and center themselves in my heart, in my very being.  I rest in the knowledge that I am never far from His thoughts, I am never away from His Spirit.  I am not ever abandoned or forsaken.  I am weary, but not discouraged.  I am saddened, but not in despair.  I am sheltered and loved. 

I hope whatever you are going through that you find hope in the Shepherd's Presence.  May you feel His comforting embrace as His arms encircle you.  May He bring you healing from the hurts and wounds of life.  Allow Him to annoint you with oil, and fill you to overflowing.  God bless you in your journey to wholeness.  It's worth it. 

Carry On

I'm feeling a little sad this evening.  It seems that there's a lot going on in my life, and most of it is because I never thought I'd be in some of the situations I'm in, dealing with some of issues that have presented themselves to me.  I feel like withdrawing and just wrapping myself in a covering of some sort so that I am immune or impervious to slings, arrows, and thrown stones.  Wouldn't THAT be a great idea?  If we could walk around like turtles with shells -we wouldn't get ourselves into messes, (unless we ended up on our backs with our legs flailing around in the air), and, we wouldn't be hurt by what life sometimes brings.  Conversely, we wouldn't hurt others with our actions or words if we could just stay in our shells and complete life's minimal requirements, such as bill paying and working for a living.

I sometimes just get weary trying to stay afloat and on course, trying not to crash into hidden rocks.  I realize part of this feeling has to do with the fact that there's only a few weeks of school left, and this is my absolute busiest time of the year.  But, I also am struggling with more personal things particularly in relationships.  When friendships change, when things you thought were sure aren't, when others misunderstand intentions, and when you can't describe or explain how you feel - then a restless, something's off-kilter, something's amiss feeling comes to take up residence.  How does one cope? 




   

Music Speaks

So, I've been learning a new piece on the piano.  It's called "Solace" or "Solace Rag" by Scott Joplin.  It's not really a rag like you might think, it's slower, deliberate, and full of expression when played properly.  I heard this piece played in Century II Concert Hall by a pianist who was featured with the symphony that evening.  After a stellar performance of playing technically challenging pieces, for his encore, he sat at the piano, alone, and simply played "Solace".  I, along with the rest of the audience, was mesmerized by the beauty of this composition and said to myself that evening, "You will learn to play that!"

Forward several weeks.  My son purchased "Solace" online and as I sat at HIS piano one day and plunked it out I discovered that although it may not be extremely difficult to master the technical aspects, what will be difficult will be playing it with feeling and passion in order to evoke an emotional response in myself, and in my audience, should I play it for anyone else.

Daniel gave me the music, so while I practice these notes, I imagine the composer - Scott Joplin - and what might have inspired him to write this simple but beautiful music, which inspires wistfulness, solitude, and a melancholy feeling of yesterdays.  This music, as well as Chopin Preludes and Bach Inventions, and even more modern compositions bring me to a state of lowered blood pressure and a different perspective - it uses a different area of the brain than I've used all day, and it is heaven on earth for a little bit.  I hope you too can find that place where you can obtain peace of mind and a healing of your spirit.  The work day batters and tears, but a place of rest restores.  God will meet you there, and He promises to renew your strength  for yet another day.   

Wishes

My wish list, which includes world peace and a chicken in every pot, has been growing recently. Five new additions include the following:
1. A shoe store which carries ONLY wide and double wide shoes. In lots of different styles and colors. And shoes that are cute - not old lady shoes.
2. I need a purse I don't hate. I don't exactly hate my purse, but I'm not fond of it either. It's sorta like an ugly beater car you drive because you have to have transportation.
3. I ardently wish our school district did not have to cut another 15 million out of the budget for next year. The cuts in "phase two" will impact classrooms, support services, and programs. "Phase three" cuts will be even more devastating.
4. Senator Oletha Faust-Goudeau can speed all she wants to. She doesn't have the right to get by with it because she's a senator, because she has a "challenge coin" from Norman Williams, or because she thinks she's being racially profiled. She needs to suck it up and pay her tickets and quit trying to make excuses for her behavior. My wish for her is that she would conduct her personal life more responsibly and with integrity. She also has problems with code violations in housing she owns, but hey, she's a senator! She's busy!
5. I wish young boys and men, from say age 13 to age 40, would pull their pants up. I am in no mood ever to see any sort of underwear on a person, and don't they realize that if they didn't sag, they could actually take normal steps? It's so STUPID! Pull your pants UP! As I said to one gangbanger, "Pull your pants up. Does your mother know you sag like that???" He looked at me as if i were speaking a foreign language. Along with that, I wish larger women would wear bras and moderately longer shorts. I'm tired of seeing tattooes, flab, sag, and fat on people who shouldn't wear tanktops and short shorts. Blech.

Laura Story - Blessings

Changes

I've been thinking the last several weeks about making changes to my blog. Tonight I kinda looked around at the templates and colors and just decided to go with something different. I have been frustrated the past year or so with this blogging situation, simply because I feel constrained by the title "Cool School Psychologist". I'm so much more than my job and there are a lot of things I would RATHER comment about, think about, and write about. Don't misunderstand, I love what I do, it's just not the sum total of my life. If I wrote about my job, or discussed more formal academic topics, then I wondered if it was boring to the folks who know me just as me. If I wrote more personally, and discussed my faith, my feelings, my love for my family, or even talked about where I live, I worried about those of you who subscribe to this blog purely for the professional ideas you might glean. A lot of my subscribers are those who are also in my job field - and I have no problem with that, but I'm MORE than my job. I thought when I was finishing up school that I would enjoy going to conferences, and one of these days, I'm going to make the national conference for school psychologists, but I gotta tell you, I am less enthusiastic about that now. I think it's because I have come the realization that like so many people in the work force, I am powerless, more or less, to change the way the district expects me to practice. I just do what they tell me to. I keep plugging along year after year - go to this meeting, attend this training, acquire this new binder with information it it - and that's ok, but I really have no way to try innovative things in my practice. I keep getting catalogs in the mail, but why? I don't order testing supplies and now with no budget funds, I especially don't expect any new test materials. I'm basically a person who is trained in this specific area, and I have developed expertise in this area, and I like almost everything about my job, but I don't create or define policy, I don't drive RTI implementation at any school I'm at (the psychologists reading this know what I'm talking about), and I just basically put my head down and plow through the work - somehow, the elephant they served me in the fall and told me to eat all of by May, gets eaten bite by bite. The rule is, you can only eat 1/4 of the elephant by Christmas, and from January to May, you eat 3/4. Lastly, I've felt uncomfortable in the last year blogging about specific situations at school. My job is absolutely fascinating, frustrating, and amazing, and I wish I could tell you about things I've seen, heard, and know. I wish I could be open and share, but this is a public blog on a public forum. I have too much respect for my job, my students, and my supervisors to really say what I feel like saying. When I've written about students on here, I've always disguised their identities - however - there is always a slight risk of discovery. My intentions have always been to promote the field of school psychology, and to lend a perspective to my readers that they may not always see - but, doing that not only with integrity but discreetly remains a challenge. So, I feel better now that I've changed things. Those of you who are looking for purely a professional discussion, and you want to quit following, hey, that's fine. I'm not looking to try to please everybody. I just want to share from my heart to yours.

Announcement

This blog is closed until further notice. Thank you.

No school AGAIN

Second day of no school. I'm always a little flustered by this, but believe me, I'm not complaining. It's just that meetings have to be rescheduled and now I'm going to feel even more behind. Next week we're out on Monday for MLK day, and Tuesday we have inservice. Those two days out I sorta planned for, but now - well, we'll have to see. Plus, in May, we get to go for an extra two days, so, bleh.

As usual, things remain challenging. I'm going to begin work with a child who has "silent seizures". I've not ever done that, so some research will be necessary. According to the child's relative, the physician has said that in this case, these seizures are very frequent and it is his belief that they have caused some cognitive damage. I feel for her and for the relative. I have another case of pretty severe autism which has been undiagnosed up to this time, and a couple of kids who just have several symptoms of several disorders. It's sometimes hard to figure out environmental factors in these cases.

I have several cases also at the private school in our area - they are coming up with more and more kids who need special ed assessment. Thankfully I have a good relationship with the administration over there and we can talk about some of these cases and try to figure things out. I just got done with the nicest kid over there - he's new to the school this year and was so delightful for me to get to know. "Larry" was the tall silent type until we talked about Arkansas Razorback football and hunting. That kid could write a manual about hunting duck or deer - it was really great to visit with a student who had a passion for something besides video games. Although I'm not a hunter and couldn't shoot any living thing, I loved how his eyes lit up when talking about shooting his first buck.

Well, it's off to spend time with my niece's kids today to give her a break. I can think about work stuff later!