Witness

I taught kindergärtners the past two days. I have witnessed a few things. here are three in no particular order that had me grinning at one point or another (don't judge, somethings are funny, especially in hind sight).

• A little girl had just gotten a drink of water, and stated to no one in particular "There is a lot of water in the sea."
• A boy accidentally spilled his milk on the floor. After I had replaced it and arranged for it to be cleaned up, the youth said, "I didn't see that coming."

The third needs a little introduction, given that I may find a deluge of mail telling me how uncaring I am. Or, perhaps, how mean I am. Honestly, it wasn't my fault. I really am sympathetic to the various digestive, respiratory, and cardio-pulmonary systems of the students I teach. That said, here is the third thing I witnessed.

• At the end of the day, I had bus duty. That meant that I and several other teachers watched the kids while they waited for the buses. That was going well apart from being cold and more than a little windy. Then, just as the final bus was rounding the corner in to view, a couple little boys in the line for the last bus called to me. One of them had been in my class today. After a little bit of talking at the same time, I gathered that the little boy from my class had to go to the bathroom. I looked at the bus coming up, then back to him. "Can't you hold it?" The answer was part grown, part moan, "Nooooo!" I looked to the principal and tried to get her attention, to tell her we needed to hold the bus for a minute or two. She didn't hear me. I turned back to check on the boy and his expression of consternation and, perhaps, pain changed to surprise and anguish. His entire body gave a slight convulsion and a dark stain began to grow on his pants, and then the flood really let go. The whole time he was trying to stem the flow with his fingers, which apparently on served to accelerate the flow, as you might with a garden hose...this merely made the spectacle a little less interesting than those waterworks outside those Las Vegas Hotels...instead of simply flowing down his trowsers, it came out away from his body and was caught by the wind. It spattered onto the pants leg of his friend. It left an interesting pattern on the ground, since it was not a completely free flow. With the flow of urine came the flow of tears. It was about this time, as my eyes took in and my brain cataloged the spectacle, that the principal turned her attention to the yowling mass that was three boys distressed over a natural body process in a most socially un-natural place! I stated the obvious. She said get him to the office to see if we could get a hold of someone to pick him up. Until then she would hold the bus. I pointed to the office, but made no attempt to grab his hand...or touch him. He followed. When we got in the office. I asked him if he still needed to use the bathroom. He said, "No." I guess that should also have been obvious. Still, I thought I should ask. And, he DID look like he was feeling better. We got the secretary on the case. I asked him if he wanted to wash his hands. He said, "Yes." His mom DID come and get him. Everything seems to have ended well. I, however, am left with an interesting visual, which I will probably never forget: that fountain of urine flowing from the pants of a young boy in the wind.

And I thought teaching would not be very exciting...what was I thinking? This is THE place to be!!

Busy Weekend

We went to Seattle to speak with the Bishop from Burundi. He happened to be in town and we thought it might be a chance to impress upon him our sense of urgency. We ended up spending a few hours discussing the adoption and things to expect in country.

Some of the things we learned were that the Bishop is working tirelessly to bring our kids home. (I say ours because we are not the only family with a child in Burundi anymore) However, his wish to help is not always enough. Others are helping, too. There are several ministers and government workers who are working to bring this adoption about. They may not have the same urgency that we do, but things are moving along. The next step is to be able to convince the state department that everything is on the up-and-up.

Other than that, we learned that culture and language differences have been and will continue to be a major barrier. When trying to get the answer to what we thought was a simple question, we ended up having to rephrase and re-word the question several times before we finally found the correct sequence of words to get the answer we wanted. For instance, we wanted to know who was BB's primary care giver. Because the Bishop is in charge of paying for BB's care, his answer was, "I am." It took several times, but finally we arrived at, "Who puts the food in his (BB's) mouth?" We finally got the answer. A young lady who attends a local college. So, one step closer...right?

We ended up staying for dinner and then driving home, where we arrived late.

Yesterday, we had a long slow morning. We ended up going to a local fruit stand. Dagdagan Fruit Stand. They have a delightful stand with a small hay bale maze filled with pumpkins. We bought some gourds and pumpkins and then brought them home to decorate our doorstep...and we my eventually dine on a few of them.

As we drove back toward Yakima to get a few items, we saw the Oscar Meyer Weiner-mobile...I just had time to clock one shot as it rocketed past.

And here is Cora as we walk in toward one of the stores we visited yesterday. I ended up buying a new jacket on Saturday. Cora got new shoes and we basically had a good weekend. I hope the rest of the week continues that trend for us and everyone!

Long Ago...

Long ago, I had hoped to put my slim abilities as a writer to use. I had hoped to mate them with my paltry photographic skills and become a photo-journalist. I took classes as such, until the almighty cost of schooling became my nemesis. So, I put education on the back burner and began seeking a trade. I was a pretty good KOA Kampground person. I made a fair gas station clerk. I thought I had promise as a sandwich artist at one time. I even managed to work at a pet store.

I eventually managed to locate a job at a mill and then at a photography studio where I ran machines that developed other people's pictures. I returned to the mill. There I managed to work for a few years until one day I got poked in the eye and decided that mill work was unsafe. Finally, people around me convinced me that since I liked history so much, maybe I should become a teacher. I put some thought into it. Well, a little (since I am lazy, and a little says a lot). I decided that, yes, that might be a good idea. Certainly it has less potential for parting me with my parts than working in a mill with cutting edges all around.

So, here I am, about 8 years later. I am a substitute teacher. I enjoy subbing, while looking for a full time job as a history teacher. Recently, I signed up with a couple other districts and have been happy as a clam and busy as a beaver. Though my old district seems to find it difficult to let me get the other jobs. I don't mind.

Today, I am to work at one of those other districts. This one does not use the on-line program that the other two use. They call subs. I got a call the other day asking me if I would sub there. I said ,"sure!" The lady told me I needed to be there at 7:15am. I thought I'd make sure I was there on time and showed up at 7:10am. She looked at me and asked when she had told me to be there. I said, "715." "Oops! I forgot this week was conference week! You are two hours early!" So, I walked back out to the truck and came home. So, here I sit waiting a little longer to go to work. On the bright side I will get a little more caffeine in my system than I would have otherwise...still, it may make for a longer day.

I have been ruminating on a post for my other site for two weeks now. I want to make it a particularly involved one, since it seems to invite more than just a cursory inspection. Usually the accidents I deal with are from sparse documents of reports. This one, however, came with some forty or more pages of report. Then, if that weren't enough, I got a second report on the same aircraft...slightly smaller, but mostly different info than the first. Given my fondness for the Boeing B-29, of which the aircraft that crashed was an example, I decided to work a little harder on it. I have thus been digesting various texts concerning this WWII behemoth of the air and its gigantic engines, trying to decide the best way to approach this crash. So, while I keep mentioning it on Facebook and in e-mails, the article is still in its infancy. Awaiting final development, it sits in my computer, stirring slightly.

Given this weekend's complex schedule, I may not finish it this weekend either. So, it will have to wait forlornly for me to write it a few more days. And so it seems that I am still managing to put my writing skills, poor though they are, into some semblance of use. So, that long ago dream of writing may not have been given up for dead. It may have transformed some, but it is still there...even if I am not getting paid (monetarily) for it, the personal satisfaction I derive from comments and letters I receive concerning the blog I write about aircraft losses in Washington State seem to make it worth the effort.

Pictures! And Narrative.

Looks like I finally managed to get my pictures up again. I guess I just needed to catch my computer by surprise. Above you see one of my wonderful nephews on my shoulders. This was at my Sister and BIL's birthday party. She is older than he...guess he got a wildcat feral cat...I don't think she quite qualifies as a cougar.

My lovable sister likes for everyone to participate in somewhat humiliating games when she has a party. This was no exception. This time we were given "handicapts." Note the guy with the glasses? He's blind. The guy next to him, in the Florida shirt, is mute (did the tape over his mouth give it away?). I had small rubber balls shoved in my shoes to simulate some sort of foot malady. We were to all go into a store and buy a pack of gum and then take a picture in the store...hence the picture below.

Below, the mute guy is carrying the blind guy.

All in all, it was a very fun day and we got to spend some time with friends and family that we don't often get to see.

I managed to put up hooks for our new pots last week. I like to have them within reach...it might not look very pretty, but they are useful!

My sister got dogs and below you see the product of that choice.

I tore the corn out of the garden and put the stalks around the front door for Halloween. I think they look good and scary. The 9 year-old neighbor girl thought it was only "SO-SO" scary...I think she thought she was being generous. Still she lied to save my feelings...sweet, ain't she?

I have been busy this week. And sick. Well, not totally sick. A little sick. I think I am handling the thing remarkably well. I know I have mentioned it before, but I think it is weird how when I have a cold I stay awake and can't sleep at night, but during the day I feel fine.

I guess, I should give a narrative, since that is what I advertised in the title of this post...of course, maybe that was simply a clever ploy to gain readers. No, probably didn't work anyway.

We may get the chance to meet the Famous Bishop from Burundi again this weekend. I won't get into it much, but we are hoping to get some concrete details about BB. I hope we get a good chance to grill him on things like "What does he eat, OTHER than bread?" and "What size of clothing does he wear?" and most importantly, "When are we going to get him?"

So, when we got our phones last month there was a rebate. A significant rebate. I had gotten the rebate page and the associated necessities (Proof of purchase, receipt, etc.) and sent them away, after having Cora check to make sure I was not missing anything. Today I got a card in the mail explaining that they would not give us the rebate because we did send the receipt. I DID send the receipt. So, I drove into the Sprint Store and asked if they could print me out another darned receipt (I wanted them to help me, so I did not use the choice words I wanted to). To my surprise they had not problem with it and even filled it out for me. To top it off they filled out two for me so I can at least get one...fine by me. I was more than a little annoyed by Sprint's antics, because you know that has to be a gimmic for them to get out of sending off semi-large sums of money...who keeps that receipt. OK, some people do, but I am not THAT organized, and I think those bastards were expecting me to be pathetic and give up. HA HA HA! They were wrong!

Well, Survivor is on...I gotta go watch Russel weed out the rest...I don't like him, but he seems to be doing a decent job.

Challenges

I got the opportunity to teach high school today. It was math. I am pretty much useless in anything above algebra, so I was happy when most of the classes simply began working quietly. Sure there was a low buz around the room, but most seemed to be on task, so I let it go.

At one point, though, one of the kids asked me why I did not have a better grasp of math. I said that I chose history for its remarkable, and, honestly, noble lack of higher math.

He wanted to know how much history I knew. He wanted to ask me a question about history. I usually tell kids that history is such a big subject that it keeps us historians humble. We can only KNOW a very small portion of history, and even then, it is a relatively loose "KNOW." I went ahead and played ball though, figuring, how much can a high schooler know? If I were a betting man, I would have cleaned the table. He asked me a simple one. "How did WWI begin?" Of course, my "simple" might not be everyone else's "simple." Obviously, the political, economic, and social underpinnings of WWI were very complicated, but in a nutshell, I handed him a simple narrative, which he took wide-eyed. He said, "We just talked about it in class this morning...and you got it!!" I should hope so, I have been in school long enough. Also, I read that stuff for fun. Kinda like shooting fish in a barrel...with a 16" naval gun...can't miss.

I had some time to look on-line while they did their work. I got a job for tomorrow and am filled up for the week now. I also read a fun short book on-line about the Chrysler plant and it's role in aircraft engine production during WWII...hmmm, obviously I AM a hardcore historian, if that's fun.

I got home and collapsed in my chair for an hour...I think I am in the midst of a cold. Of course, my colds only truly show themselves at night. I caught this one in the act and have been hitting it with Airborne vitamins and have found some cold meds that help. I always have trouble sleeping with a cold, no matter how good I feel during the day. Last night, I woke up about 45 minutes after going to bed. Could not sleep. I was experiencing drainage...probably more than you want to know. Still, I took another dose of cold meds and was able to get back to sleep by 330AM. Six O'clock came WAYYYYYY too early. Tonight I have sore muscles and my sinuses seem to be filling with viscous fluid...perhaps the consistency of molasses...maybe cold honey, but without the sweets. Oh, the joys of teaching!

No Photos

I have been trying to post some pictures, but due to computer issues and apparently Blogger issues, I have not.

This weekend was spent, at least partially, with family. We went down and celebrated a double birthday party with my sister and BIL (that's brother-in-law for those of you who are abbreviationally-disinclined). My sister will be...dare I say it in such a public forum? Hmmm, such a hard decision, but I know she will see it and it may cause some embarrassment (I hope)...oh, o.k., she will be 30 (Wow, isn't that ANCIENT?) years old. Wow!! I know we still have a couple days, Sis, but, Happy Birthday!

As usual, my sister had fun and games planned for her victims guests. I hope to post some of the pictures here...her game involved giving each player an embarrassing handicap, and then giving them a task to complete in a public setting. Some were given the gift of muteness and had their mouths taped shut. Others were deaf and wore ear plugs, or were blind and had to have their eyes covered. Still others were forced to put small rubber balls in their shoes to simulate bad feet. I was the latter and still have bruises in the arches of my feet...thanks Sis! Despite the discomfort, it was a fun game and it showed that I would be a horrible helper to a blind person. Sorry Caleb.

Yesterday (and today), I subbed for a kindergarten teacher. I like kinders, because if something isn't working you can toss it and draw something or tell them a story and they still learn something. You don't need a degree in history to teach kindergärtners!

Well, hopefully my computer issues will mend themselves and Blogger will get its shit together and everyone will see some pictures soon!

until next time!

Realizations

I lost a cousin recently. He was older than I and we had never had much time to get to know each other. Still, I always thought I would get that chance to know him better. I guess I was wrong. My uncle asked me to be a pall bearer, and I was honored to accept. I had to take a day off from work but did not begrudge that.

Apart from the standard reminder of your own mortality that funerals give you, there were some other realizations I experienced during the funeral service. Here are a few, in no particular order.

• I and a select few of my relations seem to have gotten all the looks (I didn't say they were going to be deep realizations! I am fairly shallow after all, but I am smart enough to not specify which ones got what, I'll let you guess).
• I and a surprising few probably got all the brains (Did I mention I have difficulty being humble?).
• I should probably feel more at home at the local Wal-Mart.
• It is easier to make it through a funeral without tears when you have not seen the person for a decade or so.
• Despite the formal occasion and somber mood I had the STRONG urge to stand up and question the minister about the type of airplane out of which my cousin REALLY jumped (No, that was not the cause of death, so don't ask).
• I am a little picky about historic "facts" being bandied about carelessly. When the minister mentioned that my grandparents came out west over the Oregon Trail, I had to fight the urge to look up and confirm on my phone my distinct suspicion that the railroads put the Oregon Trail out of business long before the turn of the previous century (Sure enough, by 1883 it was not being used, and my grandparents were not born until after 1910).
• 43 is too young to die, for that matter, anything under 117 is probably just a little too young.
• I prefer the "new" sharing stories about the dead to the "old" sinners repent or you'll end up where this guy is approach to funeral services.
• Even though you can count on someone to stand up with an anecdote that appears to have no tie-in to the dead person at all except in the teller's head.
• Most people have formal funeral attending clothing that is 15-30 years out of date.
• I regret not listening to my mother tell me who "those old boring people" were (I was totally wondering the whole time who the hell everyone was).
• We should probably have more family reunions, since the only time we see family is when someone dies (don't want the sight of family members to become a reminder that we will all eventually die, and might make Thanksgiving depressing).
• Some of my family try to put the "fun" back in funeral, no matter what.

Being a pall bearer again lead me to some other realizations:

• As a pall bearer, I have come to realize that all Coffins must be made to protect the occupant from radiation, because they feel like they are made of lead.
• Being short does NOT make you a good pall bearer.
• Being short does not keep people from asking you to be a pall bearer.
• If you have been a pall bearer with another person more than once, that other pall bearer will remember the time you (the shortest and youngest pall bearer) stepped in a hole some 20 years ago carrying a casket.
• That other pall bearer will also gladly relate that former incident willingly to the other pall bearers, who might not know of your previous pall bearing experiences.
• Other pall bearers don't feel comfortable with the possibility of receiving 1/5th the weight of the casket, but 1/6th the weight is acceptable.
• Pall bearers are pretty good with fractions.
• I'd rather be a pall bearer if I could hold the coffin with my right hand.
• The occupant of the casket probably won't complain if they are dropped.
• His widow might.
• Hearses probably don't need windows in the back...
• Pall Bearers do NOT get to keep the boutonnière.
• At least one of the pall bearers seemed disappointed that pall bearers do not keep the boutonnière.
• I was not disappointed that I was not going to be able to keep the boutonnière, even though I think it really set my ensemble off!.