Alone in the Grocery Store

I went to the store late this afternoon. It's Saturday, I needed a few things, and I like this one store that has a lot of produce that is specifically for people who cook authentic Mexican food. So, there were a fair number of mothers shopping with their kids. I noticed the carts with a little one sitting in the seat, with a cluster of "helpers" milling around as the mom toiled up and down the aisles. Occasionally, one of the littler ones would perch on the side or front of the cart for a ride. The "big" sister ---maybe eight years old---would help get some of the cans or boxes that mom needed, and also help to wrangle one or both of the little brothers that would wander off or start running around. One of these groups had the little brother looking over his shoulder as he tried to run off, and he ran right into the back of me. I turned and laughed as I helped him up. The mom looked appalled and my smile helped calm her down. But we didn't share a language so I couldn't tell her that--"Don't worry---been there! Done that!"

I was that lady with the three or four or five kids accompanying me to the market. I sometimes got two carts--one to corral kids and one for the groceries. I actually left a grocery store once (it only took once) when someone was pitching a fit about something and I took everyone home. Later, I had to go back, but I waited until CoolGuy was home so I could go alone. One memorable day, I was waiting to pay at the check out when the woman in line behind me asked, "Are these all your kids?" (and I think I only had four at that time) I replied, "Yes." And apparently my youthful appearance in my late twenties made her assume something because she countered with, "Well! I hope you're married!" The clerk and I exchanged astonished looks and I don't even know what I said to the lady. But later, I thought up a great answer:  [Said with laughter and a toss of my hair] "Oh, heck no! If I was married to any of their daddies, I couldn't get my county checks!"  Yeah...

So, to the ladies in the grocery store with your small or large group of children: don't even sweat it. Just teach them to try and have good manners while walking around with you. It is truly one of the most boring things you have to do with your poor, frazzled mother. At least I didn't have to go shopping after spending a long day at a low-paying job like I suspect some of the women I saw today were doing. My day with my children was my low-paying job! (low-paying if you only count money) Just spend time with your kids where ever you can. Let them learn the realities of where that food comes from that they gobble down every day. Have them help you figure out the best price and look for the sales and the coupons. Let them practice their reading by finding things on the shelf for you.

But, just know that these days of cooking and shopping and feeding your children will come to an end. And it will be sad. Someday, you, too will be all alone in the grocery store, buying just three bananas because the fourth would get brown before you got it eaten. You too, will be cooking only for two people (if you're lucky) or just one. Enjoy those frantic days of motherhood, or at least don't hate them. They'll be over before you know it and you will be the one looking at the busy mothers in amusement and empathy, and just a little bit of nostalgic envy.

 

   Five kids---eight years

Weekend Nuptials

What a fun trip! It was pleasant all the way out there, and all the way back, and everything in between. CoolGuy is a good person to fly with--we cashed in his frequent flyer miles and we traveled in first-class. That is a very nice way to fly all the way across the country. I recommend it.

I also recommend New England in October. It was very beautiful! The autumn leaves were about halfway turned, and every now and then there'd be a group of trees that turn absolutely fluorescent orange--they glowed! There are beautiful old houses everywhere, with lovely landscaping and brick walls, and superb old barns that were surrounded by rolling verdant pastures speckled with picturesque cattle. Each little community is so traditional, with the brick buildings and little businesses lining the main street. It was almost like a series of calendar photos.

 

But, you didn't click into this website to see autumn leaf photos, did you??   How about this topic:

 

 

Is this more what you were hoping to learn about?

 

Yes, the wedding!! It was just wonderful. Everyone was there who needed to be there--both bride AND groom. He flew into Boston from Japan/Guam on Friday evening and we all met up at a nice Irish Pub restaurant. The parents, the best friends, some brothers and sisters of both the bride and the groom were all there, laughing, talking, eating.

 

Then, the next afternoon, we rendezvoused at the bride's home, where that photo was taken on the deck, among others. Then, we went to a nearby town, where the wedding and reception were to take place and had some more photos taken. The location for the following pictures was an historic mansion in that town, and we had permission to use it for photography. (There was another wedding being prepared inside the mansion as we were taking pictures outside.)

 

 

Here is the lovely couple with the groom's parents. The bride was going for a '40's look, to complement the groom's dress blues. She rocked it...The professional photog got a great shot of them replicating that famous scene of the sailor kissing the nurse in Times Square.

 

Here are both sets of parents. We moms are both teachers, so we hit it right off.

 

This is the best man (also older brother) and the Life of the Reception Party (older sister.)

 

They dated at baseball games the summer they met. Notice the groom's baseball...in his other hand is a baseball glove.

 

Remember that this wedding was held in the greater Boston area. And that the Red Sox are in the playoffs. And there was a game that very night. At the bar section of the reception hall, there was a flat screen T.V. playing the game during the reception. The guests were grateful. Even the bride occasionally went over to check out the progress of the game. In fact, midway into the reception, the DJ played Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" and we all stood and sang for 7th inning stretch. (No, I didn't know a thing about baseball/Red Sox before this event. I learned from serious fans.)

 

 

This is a little hard to see, but it is the "guest book." They made "baseball cards" with their important stats: their birthdays, and the date of the wedding. Then, each guest was to sign one side and leave a sentiment, and on the reverse side, draw a picture or whatever. These "guest cards" were then put into the binder you see lying on the table at the bottom of the picture, which was a baseball card collector notebook, complete with plastic sleeves for each card. Too cute!

 

Here is the box into which you put the gift cards.

 

 

Here is the concession stand...you could just go choose some candy.

 

 

When you came in the door, you looked for your "tickets" and then went to the table you were directed to, with the team name.

 

 

We were seated at the Baltimore table (appropriately) and we met some very fine friends of the bride at our table, and enjoyed a pleasant evening of chatting and eating. We had hors d'ouvres before the ceremony and then sat down for a meal of pasta and salad and other stuff after the wedding.

 

The centerpieces were peanuts and baseballs---official Major League balls, too. The napkins were made by a dear older friend of the bride, from baseball printed fabric. The bride and her friends had a lot of fun decorating the reception hall!! I had the newlyweds sign a baseball for me the next day, as my souvenir.

 

 

The bride and groom sat here to eat, but most of the night, they were on the dance floor having a wonderful time. Once the DJ played some music from "Grease" and-- since the bride had directed all her friends in this musical in college--the whole bunch of them grabbed the mic and sang along in beautiful harmony.

 

Party's over...it's time to call it a day. Time for everyone to gather up their things, and head for some sleep. We'd had a tremendously joyous celebration. The bride and the groom had finally reunited in the same hemisphere and we'd had a WEDDING!! Yeah!! A good time was truly had by all--especially the energetic Older Sister who owned that dance floor! 

Goin' to the Chapel and They're Gonna Get Married

Actually the wedding will be held at the VFW Hall, but ---[trumpet fanfare] They ARE going to get married. At last! Finally! The sea has surrendered the sailor to the shore. This wedding has had a couple of other dates when it was scheduled, only to have the plans changed by the demands of submarine life reality.

So, we're heading off to Massachusetts tomorrow. We'll be joined by another son and another daughter and we'll join those East Coasters for a grand celebration. I met the bride a year and a half ago when I went out there to see our two sons. One lives in Baltimore, and the other son was attending submarine training school in Connecticut. When I went up to New England, I was given a superb tour of the Freedom Trail in Boston, by my son's then-girlfriend who has lived her entire life in that part of Massachusetts.

Not only was the tour around Boston one of my life goals, but she was a delight! I thought to myself, "Hmmm, I hope he has enough sense to marry her." And when he got his orders in October that sent him to Guam and his first boat, he did show a lot of good sense and bought her an engagement ring. So, now, at last, several months after they'd planned it, the wedding is going to occur.

I'm delighted for both of them. We anticipate a wonderful weekend. We met her parents last winter when they visited Las Vegas, and we're in agreement that our children have chosen a fine life partner!  What more could you want?

 

This was at a family "meet the fiance and say farewell to the sailor" when they came west a year ago before he left for Guam.

 

 

We were on the way to the airport. He went west....really far west until it was almost east. She went east back to Massachusetts. We knew that this weekend would eventually come, but it has been a long year!

Great Moments in Teacher Life

So, on Fridays, our schedule is a little different. Our lunch is about 20 minutes later than the other days of the week and so we change our classes a little differently, too. My second period class leaves and the third period comes into the room. They simply put down their backpacks and then stand behind their chairs, because we then leave to go up to the playground for recess. Recess is twenty minutes, then they line up and come downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, also twenty minutes. All together, including walking time, there is 45 minutes for the students for recess and lunch.

We teachers get 35 of that for our lunch, and the final ten minutes is spent in the cafeteria, supervising the last half of the students' lunch period. We walk around and dole out napkins or taco sauce packets or sometimes (I like to do this) use the little broom and long-handled dustbin to sweep up stuff that is on the floor. It helps the custodian, and also keeps our cafeteria from becoming trashy. Wrappers, napkins and crumbs are my usual targets, but any day that corn is served, then I'm really busy sweeping up kernels. I don't know why corn is so hard to get all the way to their mouths. I'm on top of spills, too.

So, you can see that my lunch time is pretty precious, and none of us are too willing to have to enforce our universal threat of making students stay in the classroom for part of their recess to either finish work, or just as a consequence for wasting our work time by talking or other misdeeds. I know that each of us has said to students, who have had to stay in from recess for even a few minutes, that this is "messing up my lunch time, you know."

Well, on Friday, the students for third period came barreling through the door like a landslide of rolling boulders. They put down their backpacks and about five of them were roaming the room and provoking others as though recess were being held in my classroom. The volume level was out of control. I used all my signals, I put up on the screen my procedures list for preparing for recess. That got about half of them to remember what they were supposed to be doing. I looked around the room. I directed the teacher stink-eye toward a couple of the continued talkers. Finally, I said, "Do you want to just stand here all recess or do you think you could get quiet so we can go out into the hall." 

One of the Out-of-Control-Nearly-Every-Minute fellows called out, "Won't that mess up your lunch if we stay in from recess?"

BINGO!! I looked at him, and I said, "Well, as a matter of fact, it won't."  I marched over to my desk, pulled my lunchbox from a shelf, and plopped down in my chair. I opened my lunch box and extracted my sandwich and a baggie of grapes. I pulled out a napkin and reached for my drink. I took a bite of the sandwich and looked straight at him.

"Actually, it won't be any problem at all. I have my lunch right here. I'm going to eat it. If you'd like to spend recess watching me eat lunch, then fine---keep talking. If you'd prefer to play for recess, then you will be quiet so we can go out in the hall." And I took another bite of my sandwich.

The look on his face was AWESOME!! He didn't even speak! His jaw dropped. The other students turned on him with hissing, "[Horrible-talking-pest] you better shut-up right now!! We want to go to recess!" The room became deathly silent.

I ate a grape.

Then I stood up and noted that it was quiet enough to walk into the hall. So, we did, and they went up to recess. And once again, Age outwits Youth.

Now, I didn't entitle this "Great Moments in Teaching" but "Great Moments in Teacher Life"---there's a distinction and I hope you see it.

I Had A Fabulous Day!!

Well, it didn't start at 8:40 when I almost forgot I had morning recess duty, and so I had to hurry upstairs, instead of getting my copying done.

And it didn't start at 10:00 when I went in to cover a first grade classroom for the teacher whose sub didn't show up. Although I got paid to do this, I really missed getting my own planning time instead. And, now I know for certain that my decision to never teach first grade is a really, really good one!! Herding cats, I'm telling ya....

It also didn't start during my own classes when all of my students apparently decided that every time Mrs. [EarthSignMama] says, "Please put away...." or "Please take out..." what she really is saying is "Okay!! Free-for-all time!! Everyone talk loudly to your classmates!!" Sigh.

It also didn't start when I went outside to direct traffic after school and tripped over the curb and tried to whack a student with my big red stop sign. Ooops....

It wasn't when I sat down with a sigh in my desk chair at 4:00 P.M., checked my calendar and realized that instead of puttering around in my room and then heading home, instead I needed to quickly clean up and dash over to the teacher's union meeting that I'd forgotten about. Blah...but it was important because there was an election being held, and I wanted to ask about the negotiations for our health insurance that aren't going too well.

It finally started though when I shuffled my tired self into the house at 7:15P.M. (eleven hours after I left it this morning) and saw that CoolGuy, GREATEST HUSBAND EVER, had cleaned up the whole kitchen, washing the dishes, and wiping off all the counters and cleaning the sink!!!!

YEA!!! What a fabulous day!!!

Seriously...

As you drive south on I-15 there is one rest stop that has a couple of gas stations, a couple of fast food stores, and that's about it. But in the parking lot of this tiny refreshment village there is also a couple of metal statues. One is a rampant elk, front feet in the air, antlers aloft. The other is a bear, and he is on all fours. They are both about life-sized.

The question is: WHY would you put such an inviting statue of a bear out in your parking lot and then label it with a kill-joy sign like this??? 

Birthday, Birthday, Birthday!

We celebrated her birthday this weekend. Actually, she started it by doing an awesome thing: she ran a half marathon and did it in a record time. Yea!! I told her that those 13 miles she'd just run were more than my dopey feet had run altogether, throughout my entire life. I didn't do running. But she does!  She sets a goal and she gets there. That quality has so far resulted in her graduation from high school, nursing school, her bachelor's degree program in nursing, her master's degree program in nursing practice. And next June, we'll be attending her "hooding ceremony" when she finishes her doctoral degree in nursing practice. Imagine...it all started like this:

 

Then she grew a little taller and a little older....

 

And then she grew even taller, and grew into a woman...
 

 

celebrating sister's graduation....

 

joined the Peace Corps...

 

 

celebrated with brother...

 

 

This is the Master's Degree...

 

This is the Crazy Aunt pose...

 

 

Enjoying the view with Dad as we celebrate the birthday!!! 



 

Sisters and their daddy....

Eye Check

Tonight I went to the opthamologist to have my retinas checked. A couple of years ago, I experienced a small tear and he repaired with a laser. So periodically, he checks the insides of my eyeballs to make sure that the patch is holding and that there aren't any other weak or failing spots. This is just one of those fantastic parts of aging--having the gel in your eyeballs begin to liquefy and start to splash down into big blobs that float around making shadows in your vision. Also, it can pull at the retina, causing tearing. One more thing to look forward to, young'ens!

As we drove over to the eye doctor (CoolGuy took me because of the need to dilate my pupils in order to look -- actually-- into my eyes.) As we traveled over to the office, we could see the dark clouds that were rapidly moving our direction, and then the radio program was interrupted by the weather service announcing the high winds, thunderstorms and lightning that was part of a fast moving storm rushing across the valley. We watched as three jets from the Air Force base landed at the city airport, because the storm was so severe at the base that, apparently, they had to be diverted. The palm trees along Flamingo Road were whipping back and forth from the powerful wind, and raindrops were starting to beat on our windshield as we pulled into the parking lot of the medical center. 

When we came out about 60 minutes later, the streets had become streams. Every gutter ran full, with choppy waves. It was easy to find the lowest places on the roads as we drove home, because that was where a huge lake stretched across the pavement. We could see that the storm had moved on to the extreme southern end of the valley. But right over us, the sunlight streamed across the cars from the edge of the mountains where Old Sol was about to set. This resulted in a massive and shimmering rainbow with one end ironically ending on top of a Boulder Highway casino.

However, in the very center of this rainbow, lightning still slashed jaggedly over the mountain near our house. We drove through the sunlit streets, dodging huge puddles, admiring the rainbow, bemused by the lightning, and astonished at the drifts of sand, gravel and palm branches that were piled up along the streets, here and there. The temperature had dropped by twenty degrees in one hour. When it rains in Vegas, Baby, it's quite a show!

As we drove home, I told CoolGuy the good news from the eye doctor--everything looked good and, unless there were any new alarming symptoms, I didn't need to return for a year. I related to CoolGuy an amusing conversation I'd had with some students today. We were thinking of something we'd done, about which we could write a personal narrative. One technique is to think of a place, then write a list of things you've done there. Then from this list choose one event and write a story. One of my places was "barn" and several students asked if I had a barn at my house. I said that it was the barn from when I was a child. Then, I said that I had one advantage over them----they were only 10 years old, and I was 60 years old, so I had fifty more years of stories to tell than they had.

The girls at one table expressed their amazement at my age. "REALLY?? You're 60? You look like you're twenty!" I thought "Ha! Ha! Ha!" But I said, "Thanks" and then as I walked away, I thought, "Hmm...maybe I should load all of you up and take you to my eye doctor tonight after school!"  I know I don't feel as old as my birth certificate certifies that I am, but I'm pretty sure that I also don't look twenty. I appreciate their votes of enthusiasm! Does my excitement over a beautiful rainbow count as young at heart?

Human Logarithms

My understanding of a logarithm is that it describes an increase that grows exponentially. (I'm sure that people with actual math skills will correct me.) But, I used that title to lead into a reflection on my parents' wedding anniversary.

Today, September 5th, is the sixty-seventh commemoration of their marriage. They pledged their vows to love for eternity in 1946 in the Salt Lake Temple. Then, they went on an epic honeymoon, with two of my dad's cousins...sharing the car. Hey, my mom pointed out that they did have their very own motel room at each stop. Then, they ended up returning to the tiny valley where two other generations of their respective families had lived, and started their family, too. This is where the math starts.

My parents had eight children. This was a large family, yes, you're right. We lived all in one house for just a short time, because the oldest child graduated from high school just two months before the  youngest child turned one year old. But, it was only a three bedroom house. And, until I was a junior in high school, it had only one bathroom. We were a "close" family...elbow-to-elbow at our kitchen table.

When we older sisters started marrying and then reproducing, it wasn't long before the math kicked it up a notch. One year, there were four grandchildren born and then two years later, we did it again! Four more...and CoolGuy and I added a third child to our group the next year, too. Within just a few years of gaining sons-in-law, my parents became the grandparents of ten grandchildren. It had taken them nearly twenty years to get their eight. See how this human math works?

Eventually, between all eight of their children, they ended up with thirty four grandchildren. Now, many of those people are married, having children of their own. I believe the latest count of those we refer to as the "Third Crop" has reached forty-one. So, those two people, who fell in love decades ago, then started their family with high hopes, have ended up creating a progeny of 83 people. And there will be more, I'm sure.

Sadly, they only celebrated 38 years together before my dad died from leukemia. We continue to commemorate and cheer their decision to join their lives and start this generational equation moving along the slide rule of eternity. (Okay, okay, I couldn't help myself...I'm sure I'll be ticketed by the Metaphor Police.)

 This is a family portrait from that one year we all lived in the same house. 1965?

How Do I Believe?

In response to some recent questioning of how I believe...not what...how...I wish to write a few things.
 

• I have attended church all of my life. I go because it feels good there. But it isn't the people, especially, it is something within that makes me feel good.

• I have never attended church because of the people there. In fact, several times in my life, I have attended church in spite of some of the people there. Even when I was a child. Please know, however, that I love and admire many of my fellow congregants.


• But, I can feel that feeling almost anywhere if I look for it. I continue to attend church because I believe that there are ordinances there that I need.


• I know God lives. I don't know where "heaven" is. I don't know how the concept of eternity can be understood. I have a couple of questions for when I get to heaven, though. One of them is: What was that hormones thing for women all about??? ...golly.


• I cannot reconcile everything I have been taught with everything else I know.


• There have been five separate occasions in my life when I received a "message" from a person I knew, who was no longer living. I won't go into detail here, but I was awake, I wasn't soliciting their comments or reactions; I was completely taken by surprise. The messages that I received from them were very important and gave me comfort and understanding.


• These events were so compelling, and etched so completely into my consciousness, that I cannot deny the existence of the human soul as an eternal entity.


• There was nothing creepy nor spooky about these events. On the contrary, I was overwhelmed with a sense of total peace, love and serenity.

Therefore, when I am faced with confusion or contradiction in my religion, or when I read or hear something that I don't understand or I cannot accept, I just set it aside for a while. Then, I compare these "problems" with my personal experience as a believer, and I relax. If I have to choose between my sure knowledge of God's existence, of our eternal souls, of aspects of the Plan of Salvation, and a perceived contradiction or an apparent failing of a sustained leader, then I stick to my sure knowledge.

I can't speak for anyone else. I cannot pass on to another person the experiences and feelings I have had. I'm sorry I cannot do a "Vulcan Mind-Meld" and let them know and feel what I know and have felt, because it could save others some anguish, probably.

This seems to contradict the faith principle, I know. I realize we are taught that we must have faith and then we will get confirmation by the Holy Ghost. Maybe I did have faith. Sometimes when I received these messages, I was in prayer. So maybe there is no contradiction here. I hope I don't sound like I lack humility when I say that there are some things I no longer have faith in, because my faith has been replaced by certainty and sure knowledge.

And that certainty and knowledge allow me to just trust the rest of it. It was trusting the principles I'd been taught that resulted in being in a position to receive the messages, I think. God uses a still, small voice. I know that sometimes He uses a still, small, familiar voice so we'll know, without doubt, that the source of the message is Him.

Third Day of School

Wow--it's been sticky and hot in Las Vegas! By 8:50, out on playground duty, I was already feeling the sweat trickle down the side of my face. It felt like Maryland on a bad summer day. We'll all be very happy to return to our "dry heat." But, we've already settled into a sense of routine with the fourth grade. The students adjusted quickly to the classroom rotation. In fact, I had one fellow tell me, as we walked to the crosswalk together, "It makes the day go by quickly when you change teachers."

And, I received a great compliment today: someone told me that their brother was right! Mrs. [Earthsignmama] is the funnest fourth grade teacher! (We'll work on that grammar....) Thanks! It's funny, too, because they've done a lot of work in my room in just three days. And I haven't skimped on the rules at all. In fact, these first few weeks, I'm extra hard on the rules, just so no one gets any ideas about what they can get away with.

After the traffic patrol, I went back to the classroom, picked up my purse, and drove up to a contract ratification meeting for the teacher's union. We listened to a question and answer session with the negotiating team, cast our votes, and I finally got home--eleven hours after I left home this morning. Sigh. Soooo sweaty, too...clothing firmly stuck to my skin.

I peeled it all off, and jumped into the pool. Awwwwwwww...it's even better than the shower, because in the pool, gravity is rescinded. My feet don't hurt. They don't have to do anything but flap along at the end of my legs. Awwwwwwww...KitKat lolled on the lawn and watched me cavort about, sighing loudly. I turned on the hot tub, and went inside to eat.

CoolGuy left for Maryland on Monday, so I've been home alone. I've eaten leftovers all week. I come home, feed the cat, get into the pool, go in and eat, go out to the hot tub, go back inside and crawl into bed. Maybe it's good to be home alone this week. I'm too tired to be sociable.

Tomorrow, we saddle up and ride out again. Hopefully, the humidity will be lower, and this year's monsoon season will end soon. Really anticipating the return of dry....

Another First Day In the Rear View Mirror

Survived it again! The First Day of School! And I left the building at 5:00, too. I knew that I needed to buy milk, and pick up drinking water and then I was going to lie on the couch, and possibly not get back up till morning. But, instead I fed the KittyCat and myself, and then soaked in the hot tub to sooth my aching feet and legs. Nothing new there---aching feet and legs---that is always a feature of the first day of school.

This year, in vivid contrast to last year, we fourth grade teachers each only have 23 students, so far. WOW! That is so terrific!! We had 26 on our rosters, but only 23 have appeared. Even if we end up with the 26, that still beats last year's 32! It is absolutely amazing what a difference it makes without those extra bodies in the room. There is no way to tell if there is going to be any stand-out hoodlums this year, but there certainly is a lot of really nice children.

But, the most striking part of this day was the weather. There has been a big tropical storm churning its way north along the Baja Penninsula, sending moisture and clouds all the way into our dry desert city. On Friday, it was 106 degrees, with the whisperings of higher humidity. Sunday, big rainstorms dumped on the western side of the Las Vegas valley, creating flash floods, blocking some streets and pushing little mudslides down the hilly areas. We got a few sprinkles over here on the far eastern slope. But this morning, it was only 78 degrees, with 66% humidity. It felt like San Diego out there. The air was silky smooth and soft on my skin. It wasn't uncomfortable at all, like on Friday or Saturday, with the humidity and the temperature high enough to feel bad. It was extremely pleasant to be outside, in fact.

That is, until enough smatterings of raindrops convinced the principal to call off outside recess because of the look of the weather radar. She really can't afford to have a couple of hundred kids playing outside if a drenching storm suddenly rolls over to our side of town. So, that was unfortunate for all of us. We're hoping that tomorrow will be a little more normal for this time of year. But not too normal. That would mean the temperatures would be over 100.

Tonight, when I was out soaking, I noticed that most of the clouds are gone, (it was solid gray overcast all day) and the stars were coming out. The weather report says it'll get up into the 90's tomorrow, and the rest of the week. The tropical storm has calmed down; now there is just a large swath of rain moving up through Arizona and heading into Colorado. But, I really enjoyed that little Southern Cali day we had here. Not too warm, a little moist---all that was missing was the scent of the ocean.

The Payoff

All week school parking lots have been crowded with teacher's cars. All over the city, we have been busily unpacking the closets, loading up the bookcases, and stapling paper on the bulletin boards. We didn't have to be back, officially, until Wednesday. But many of us have dropped by a couple of weeks ago to pick up our keys and start the flurry of activity that can completely absorb 12 hours of your day if you don't watch out. Even Coolguy gets into the act with me by setting up my computers and organizing the tangle of wires and plugs so that my students can go on-line and practice their typing skills and do research.  He even cheerfully helped our two new Kindergarten teachers by using his wrenching skills to lower their student tables. The custodian was completely swamped and I knew CoolGuy could have it done in less than an hour. He's on their list of Awesome Dudes.

School starts on Monday, but we had open house Friday from 4:00 to 6:00 P.M. That is when parents and children can come in and meet their teachers and find their homerooms. My students always ask where they have to sit because they don't see name tags on the desks. I reply that they get to choose their own seat the first week. Then, I point out to the parents how that allows me to figure out what the seating arrangement really needs to be, by separating people who are too great of friends and can't get a grip on the chatting...

One former student from last year dropped in to say hi, and he was accompanied by his older brother who was in my fourth grade six years ago. Now the older brother is going into his sophomore year of high school. We see one another fairly often because he walks over to the school to walk his younger brother home most days, and I'm the crossing guard. So, we've maintained a relationship. Plus, these brothers were both eager students who were witty and polite, so it's easy to stay friends.

I asked how he was doing, and he said fine, and then added something that I didn't expect. He said, "I really liked your class, [Mrs. Earthsignmama] because it was always so fun and interesting. I really learned a lot and got good at writing. My freshman English teacher last year wasn't very good, and I kept thinking that I wished you could come over and show her how to do it."  Wow! That was delightful to hear!

Just that morning, in a staff meeting, our principal had asked us to think of a great teacher we could recall from our school years. Then, we were to tell our table mates why that person was a standout and how they made us feel. Her point was that we have so much power in the lives of our students. We need to always remember that and be someone from whom they can feel love and acceptance, and then they'll be more likely to listen and learn.

So here was my former student standing there, not twenty or forty years later, but just a few years, telling me that I was someone who had meant something in his life and that my efforts had been appreciated and accepted. It is a great way to start out my eighteenth year of teaching 4th grade.

 

Top of the Pass

Whenever our family has traveled to visit the Grandmas there is an obligatory photo. No, not with the relatives we've driven so far to spend time with, but on a particular rock, at the top of the pass. As one drives into the beautiful valley where both CoolGuy and I were born and raised, the first glimpse can be taken from a pull-out on the flat part where the highway department has made almost a parking lot to enable that view. It can be used to check your brakes before starting down the steep incline as you head north, or south. But most of us use it to stop and gape at the remarkable view of the mountains and the valley they surround.

I always like to pull off the highway up there and look around. The mountains on the east side are as familiar and dear as my own parents were all those years we came "home" to visit. Unlike humans, though, the mountains never age or die. They're still there, evoking an emotion I can barely articulate, but is manifested by an involuntary sigh of relief whenever I stand there looking at them. I haven't lived there in more than forty years, but something about their very existence makes me feel safe, secure and at ease. 

 Autumn

 

For years, I thought I was weird because of this reaction when I see that view up on the summit. But then, I read the story of another man's first sight there, and realized that perhaps my response wasn't too far off. He told of growing up in the eastern United States, finishing college, and then later moving to California where he met a woman whose home town was in our valley. They developed a relationship and finally, she brought him home to visit her elderly parents. In his recounting, he was skeptical of the description of her Wyoming childhood home, and frankly, thought she was just experiencing the effects of nostalgia. They climbed the winding narrow highway on the south end of the summit, passing beaver ponds and stands of aspen trees. They eventually reached the top, and she stopped the car because he demanded it. He stepped out and looked at the scene spread out before him and was stunned. He described it as better than she had described. It was like Shangri La to him. He couldn't believe that something that lovely could be a real place. They ended up moving there and starting a business. He is a professional musician, so he finds ways to perform and occasionally teaches others. But his reaction to that view from the top really impressed me. Hmmm...I'm not alone.

Summer

 

Now, about those photos. We've often stopped and taken one with the kids. Some summers, we took them with grandchildren! And it was amusing, because one of the features of the photo op is that, over the years, there is usually someone not too delighted to be posing there.  So, below are a series of photos from the many, many stops at the Rock at the Top of the Pass.

 July 1991

(One son was already in Wyoming.)

 

 July 1991

 

July 1992

 

August 2004

 

 

  May 2006
 

 March 2007

 

August 2008

 

 

Sometimes, it's just not what someone wants to do.

 

 

Your cooperation is not required...just your presence.

 



Summer 2013

 

Mojave Serenity

 

When people go to the desert, they see this:

 

Long vistas of desolation...

 

Sparse plant life scattered among the rocks and sand. Virtually no animal life at all.

 

However, if you go to the desert at night, prepared to be there, it is a whole different world. When we arrived in Tecopa on Sunday night, the sky was still blue, although the sun had set. The glow from behind the western mountains faded gently, but steadily. We took our belongings into our room, and then came out to watch the stars appear one by one, then thousands in a rush as the sunset was finally extinguished. The quarter moon was nearing the edge of the sky and by 11:00 P.M. it, too, was no longer visible leaving behind the black dome that glittered more brilliantly than the Strip we'd left behind us.

 

I hadn't seen the Milky Way in such a long time that I'd forgotten that it almost looks like a series of clouds arching across the roof of the world. We could pick out entire constellations and tell the different planets because of the colors blinking at us from outer space. We watched a satellite zooming eastward, a tiny steady bright light traveling in an arc across the sky. The Big Dipper was so brilliant and hung so low it nearly touched the northern horizon.

 

It was so quiet. We spoke to each other in soft voices. We could not hear traffic or insects. After we ate our dinner, we walked over to the mineral spring/hot tub building that was part of our complex. CoolGuy used his red-light flashlight to illuminate the gravel road because my feet don't navigate rough surfaces too well. We slipped into the silky warm mineral water. Since the water comes from a spring, there isn't a pump, so even this experience was still and quiet. After about 20 minutes, we decided to drive out to a public pool along Furnace Creek Road about  a mile from the buildings.

 

Amazingly, it was more quiet than out there. This time we were far enough away from the compounds that we couldn't hear the swamp coolers. It was a perfectly still night, not even a whisper of breeze. Someone, long ago, poured a cement tub with steps and a hand rail so that one of the springs would have a defined pool. There are a couple of palm trees growing on the western side of the pool and someone has parked a very comfy sofa along the edge under the palms. We were all alone, so we disrobed and climbed into the warm pool under the stars. Warm water, total silence, and billions of stars. Periodically a  shooting star would flash overhead. Soon, two bats joined us, swooping just over our heads to snatch the little flying things that were attracted to the water. As we'd driven up to the pool, a kangaroo rat ran across the road in front of us. So, with the bats and the bugs, it was rather lively out there. Totally silent, but lively.

 

We watched the sky for another half hour, then climbed out and dried off and dressed. It seemed so noisy when we turned on the truck motor, and the headlights were spectacularly bright. We slowly drove along the gravel ruts and returned to the highway. It was just a half mile to the driveway of the compound. When we parked in front of our cabin, we spread out sleeping bags in the truck bed, and laid there watching as a few more meteors flashed across the sky. We realized that we were nodding off, so finally around 2:00 A.M. we surrendered and went in to the comfy bed.

 

The next morning, it was back to the harsh, barren world of desert rock and small prickly plants. The sun was glaring down, the temperature was creeping upward and once again, I began to feel small and vulnerable. We happily got into our air conditioned modern vehicle and pondered the stamina of those people who, 200 years ago, first trudged through this area, mapping the Old Spanish Trail for which the highway was named. We drove along at 60 mph and marveled at their determination as they rode their horses and packed their supplies on mules over yet another range of mountains that only led them into yet another barren alkali valley floor. Apparently, there are enough small springs spaced within 20 to 30 miles on the path they pursued that they finally made it over the final range of mountains that led them into the Los Angeles basin.

 

But, next time you are driving southwest toward the ocean, I recommend taking a break. Spend a night in the desert at one of the many oasis outposts like Tecopa or China Ranch. To appreciate the fragile beauty and subtle wonders of the desert, you'll need to be far away from the noises and illumination of civilization, so it isn't enough to just get out of your car in say...Baker. Go way out in the far reaches of the desolation, so that you can hear the quiet and see every star. Sit still and appreciate the wonders of serenity.  Night in the desert is soothing and calm. I recommend it.

 

Not A Promise, But a Pretty Good Time

About ten years ago in the summer, I was driving from Maryland to the West to visit family, and as we crossed eastern Utah there was a sign along the highway. It was one of those triangular yellow caution signs and it had a silhouette of a large bird with wings outstretched, and the words, "Caution: bald eagles on road." Well, needless to say, I was thrilled and kept my eyes peeled for them. Eventually, there was a rest stop where we pulled in to "rest" and then I asked the woman who was at an information booth there about the eagles. I complained that I didn't see any, and she laughed. "I hear that complaint often---it isn't a promise, it's a caution." It seemed that in the winter, there is a fair amount of roadkill along that hilly stretch and the eagles come to scavenge some dinner. Because of the limited views, vehicles would come upon a group unexpectedly and there were a series of collisions with the big birds as they were hunkered over the carcasses. No one wants to kill a bald eagle, because they are protected and the national symbol. Also, they are quite large and could cause some damage to a smaller car, not to mention the possibility of a wreck as the driver tries to avoid the collision in a panic. Hence....the warning signs.

Well, I experienced another "not a promise" event this week as we traveled out to the desert to watch the meteor shower. We decided to head west toward Death Valley to find the dark night sky. There is a small town (well...that's a stretch--there are a few buildings) called Tecopa with a natural hot springs and cozy cabins you can rent. We've stayed there before. The mineral springs are very lovely, and in the winter, the place is filled with tourists (mostly geezers) who come from many nations to soak. It is also very, very dark at night. We arrived after dark. We set up our chairs in the courtyard and looked at the sky. It was stunning! I forget how many stars are up there because in the city (especially this one) most of the night sky is obscured by the lights from below. We saw the Milky Way and several constellations: Scorpio, Perseus and naturally, the Big Dipper. We could even find the Little Dipper. By midnight a few shooting stars had begun. We saw several long-tailed meteorites strike a glowing path across the sky. But, despite our staying up till nearly 2:00 A.M. we didn't experience the meteor "shower" that was heralded.

Another part of our journey toward the desert wasteland was this sign:

 

To get out of Las Vegas driving west, you pass through a National Recreation Area called Red Rocks. It is a marvel of nature, just over the hill from the Marvel of Hedonism. It is also, allegedly,  home to wild burros. Hence, the caution sign. They randomly roam all over and are known to cross the road in their leisurely amble. However, in my many trips out to this beautiful natural site, I've never seen a wild burro. I'd love to see wild burros!  In fitting tribute to our "almost" meteor shower, I actually saw one wild burro on this journey! I almost missed him, but there he was, all alone, grazing about halfway up the hill as we rounded a curve.

I guess, the moral to my story is to realize that life is filled with "not a promise" events. However, you should still enjoy the journey and find things to delight in, nevertheless. Tomorrow I'll tell you about the quiet.

The Supervisor

There isn't a thing that is done around here without  proper supervision. The supervisor's latest job was on Friday afternoon when CoolGuy mowed the lawn.

I came out to dig weeds from the garden bed, so that I could just toss them onto the lawn and they could be chopped up into the lawn mower bag, then added to the composter.

Who else was out there -- supervising?  Of course you know...

 

CoolGuy pointed out that she was checking the height and density standards and making sure that he'd cut it to the correct specifications. Also she was testing the moisture content and seeing if the soil was adequately aerated. There's a lot of pressure around here for nearly every routine chore because of the intense level of monitoring we receive. Believe me, we pay attention to detail.