regular days

there are no regular days except that all days are irregular. today was a test day but it was not like friday's test day, nor will it be like tomorrow's test day. the ground i walked on may at first glance seem to be the same as yesterday, but with the wind, most of the fine top layer is now probably laid down on the loess hills of iowa. with varying degrees we all like to have some sort of order or sameness to our lives, but yet if was exactly the same, we complain of boredom. even for some of us, unless something really big and different happens every day--which if it did would make the days sort of the same--complain, nothing every happens. everything is in a constant state of motion from the molecules in our bodies to the dust we walk on. of course, there is bigger motions and smaller motions, but motion none-the-less, and if it all stops, we cease to exist. the bigger motions, like water rushing down the mountain, are no more important that the slow erosion of the rock the water runs over. all of the actions are needed to construct life.

deadlines

everyone expects a grace period--bills give you a grace period before the pentalty kicks in, teachers most often give grace for papers due, we all give ourselves grace on deadlines for cleaning the garge, loosing weight, walking regularly, giving up bad habits. has a programmer ever finished a major project on time exactly the way it was planned? has it always been thus or is it just our society? tried to impress yearbook staff of the importance of meeting deadline tuesday but didn't get book out till friday. they had other things. we all have other lives. still there are certain things that really do have a deadline. there are things that we need to be responsible for. the more i am around the students the more i see a lack of responsibility. who cares if i don't show up for work and the animals go hungry? if they have pets at home, it is probably mom taking care of it. what do we learn from having a grace period for everything? are we learning of God's grace? do we think that it will extend forever? is there grace for everything by everybody? or should it only be extended under special cercumstances? does God's grace have perameters? if it does is it grace?

home sweet home

it is definately true that travel expands your view, even when you can see for miles and miles. after traveling to the black hills for thanksgiving and looking at affordable places to live.....i am glad to be back in my own humble home. our real estate agent is new .... he needs to work a little bit more on preselecting and descerning the clients needs and wants... which are sometimes quite different. once house was a historic landmark, had beautiful tile fireplace surrounds, oak woodwork, tall ceilings. the floor was scratched and looked like it was red pine. definately not oak. the outside was the huge cement block with the rugged texture that was popular about a hundred years ago. had new wire, new furnace, but there was a horizontal jack holding the front walls of the house together. i don't know anything about jacks so that was kind of scary. then there was the fact that it was a repossesion, and the bank is not required to publish a discloser statement. not fair. then there are the bats that live in the attic. on the bright side there is an awesome 5 year old 3 car garage. maybe my sister and i could live in the gargage and turn the house into a haunted house and give tours to the tourists. of course, we would have to think of someone famous who lived there.

the other houses we looked at were pits....money pits...messy pits, bad bathrooms, old kitchens from the 60's-- so depressing. we could afford a trailor which would be all new... but, then, everyone knows they attrack tornados. right!!!

the drive back started out one of those picturesque thanksgiving trips.... characoal flannel trees laid against camel coated hills. by noon the steel sky was spotted with flakes which quickly turned the highway into a wheel gripping drive. my lilttle jeep with its short body and light weight just does not like icy roads (at least i know that 4-wheel drive does nothing on ice). think i need spicky tires and heated windshield wipers. welll, new snows and wipers anyway.

clothesline

Well the temperature outside is right, but in the middle of the day, not at night and even though daylight savings is in effect, the rapid temperature drop after sunset tends to dampen the enthusiasm for fires. Rain also. I have a wonderful clothesline but most sundays when i wash clothes, i either have school, a meeting, or it is rainy. The last time i hung out my sheets the wind was blowing them out parallel to the ground. they smelled good after i captured them and brought them in. good thing i am as tall as i am. sometimes it would be nice to hang out people in the wind to blow away lurking attitude problems and bring them in with a fresh clean look on the world. students were complaining today about working on sunday. the choices are longer school year and shorter vactions or work about 4 sundays during the year. let's think about this. bring out the clothespins and the wind.

student art

one of my art students is learning how to paint with acrylics. my boss's wife is into penguins and wants to buy it. it is not quite finished. there is some more shading to do and the yellow to add. she was looking at another picture which is a time honored way for artists to learn to paint and not considered cheating as long as you don't try to pass it off as being done by the origianl artist. quite different that the rest of the world.

sidewalk art

it has been rainy for a few days. these plastered leaves are from another rainy day.

friday afternoon suprise

my blog had a package delivered to my house today.... by the boss's wife , even. it came to the main building just after i left. : ) my blog is so happy, it was a propane gas lantern to put on the picnic table. i think that no matter what, i have to have one more fall fire. the lamp, the fire, and my dragonfly lights will make a cheery spot in the middle of the gardens. after all, winter does not start until late december. the table and chairs are still out. this is a big weekend so it will have to be this sunday or monday evening... even if it snowing. it has been raining and gray for the last three days, so i need a little light in my life and i can drag wood out from the bottom of the wood pile. i think hot chocolate and toasted marshmellows are in order.

starry, starry night

driving down the road at night is like traveling through the galaxy. the dash a close solar system and the towns and cities in the distance the far reaches of the sky with farm lights lone stars inbetween. the contrast of the light against matt black seduces thoughts of beauty. but beneath the cover of dark lays the dust on the dash, splash marks on the hood, trash in the ditches, and chipping paint on ancient buildings. you could be almost anywhere--there are no land clues, mountains, forests, grant wood hills. you can imagine a world and build a life. light kills the illusions--real light blindingly erases all flaws.

journey to faithful ancients

went to a nice little town church sabbath to give the offering appeal. must be 75 or less members. solid color wavy glass windows surviving another century cast jewel pools of light on the pews which were wooden, but covered with home made cushions. the covers were flannel and almost flour sack patterened. i chose to set on a bare place only because i thought they might be saved places for the members. old new england churches actually had little boxed in seats for families. everyone was old and older. there was a sweet innocence in their responses to the lesson and they have weathered enough to have steadfast faith no matter what happens. even though they were quite conservative, ladies wore slacks--i would too, to keep warm and it is a lot easier to put on trouser socks than pantyhose ( an invention of the devil, i must say--terribly unsexy). they have potluck every sabbath; this week included beets (yum), mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, several pasta salads, muffins, some mystery cassaroles, and unidentifable desserts. the pastor who has several churches, i have heard him before, never fails to mention the swing from legalism to saved by grace. i think he always brings it up when he sees me--we stand askew. (working on the use of perfect in the bible, to give him--but then maybe not) there are several in this area who believe we can be perfect (with or without help from above) for him saved by grace is interpreted by people as license to do anything. it seems to me to be rather arrogant to think you can be perfect. i don't see many people being translated nowdays. what a heavy burden. saved by grace is freedom from worry, from carrying the load. not license to do whatever. it seems to me if people have some understanding of the gift given, they will try to be better with help in response to the gift.
and then there is that whole mishmash of what are the basic beliefs. 27? probably not. a lot simpler than 27 but as complex as infinity.

it is a dark & stormy night

rain--slow, steady, and cold is going to keep me from walking the three blocks to meeting tonight where it is going to be stormy. fortunately, i will be the note keeper so it will be an excuse to be quiet and still. unfortunately, i am the one who put together schedules that will cause the heated conversation. my only consolation, it wasn't my idea to begin with.....the person who will complain the most is the creator of the idea. is that an oxymoron?

the obits

too many bare branches, excess of gray skies, & bittersweet chris botti

sweet grass, cigarette gifts, silent drums, graph paper notes, red string, lutefisk, rice pudding

pushing the crew

with my pentax and fuji film (vs other brands that the boss uses) i am the main photographer for the yearbook. having the telephoto lens is perfect, else you wind up with everyone posing or hiding or missing the facial expressions. friday jostens was in town and i took dozens of pictures of seniors making graduation decisions before i realized that i had no film.... arugh. so ran -- well in my case fast shuffled -- back to the house to get film out of the freezer. it worked out okay. in any case there are tons of pictures for the yearbook... they struggled over fonts....there is always something...this year the cover was an easy choice. have design pages picked out. but the biggy thing is i have only one writer. i think we were destined to help each other out though. another problem which is always a problem is TIME! only have 2 hours a month scheduled....not nearly enough. so no i am scheduling 3 hours on sundays that everyone is around. and sneaking in some other evenings during the week. mainly i need to get three people together and get the whip out...whoops... that won't work....maybe food will do it.

contact dodododododododododo

did you know that if you wear a metal clip --like the olympic gymnists wear-- close to but not touching your hearing aid that you can make your hearing aid squeal just by touching the hair clip? also if you bend over just right --clip still in hair-- the clip will set the hearing aid off also?

fall fires

there is something primal about fire that draws people together. last year i discovered my neighbor across the street had a fire pit made from the rim of a big tractor. i admired it so much that he found me one which i promptly put at the edge of our business manager's garden (he has gardens everywhere on campus) and between several of the houses. it was made clear that the fire pit was communal property. so whenever the weather is nice and sometimes when it isn't, one of the neighbor's starts a fire and everyone in the close neighborhood comes over. then the food starts coming over -- little bits and pieces from everyone's house to share. usually there are marshmellows and predictably some catch on fire. i dragged an old workbench out of one of the empty garages and washed it with 409, bleach, and then murphy's oil to put stuff on. my neighbor went to the gym and snagged about 2 dozen old wooden fold up campmeeting chairs and brought them over. when it gets dark enough that we can't see the food on the table, i turn on the back porch light. i need to get a camp lantern though--porch light just sort of ruins the atmosphere.

simple politics = oxymoron

changing job descriptions is turning out to be a little more stressful than i thought. i was on one side, now i am in the middle--a place i do not like to be. i have the same boss, but now the people i was working with, are now working me. things that seem innocent turn out to bite my ankles. if i am not careful, i will have nothing to stand on.

red & blue x 2

i have been taking my iron pills for 2 months now so i could give blood when the blood mobile came around to school. there are quite a few students who are old enough to give and do give which is neat. when i went in with my camera for yearbook pictures, i found one of the older givers laying flat on the floor with an ice bag on the back of her neck and her feet propped up on a chair. they already had the windows open so it was a bit chill in there. i didn't take her picture, i wanted to remain friends, but took one of the students giving blood and he was okay. i think he gave just to get food. he tons of sandwiches and cookies and hung out for more than an hour. they were pretty good sandwiches. i ate 3 -----one for breakfast i missed and 2 for lunch---it was 10:30. the hardest part was the needle prick, but it didn't take very long. i think i am supposed to get a t-shirt.

so then that evening i went to vote. i took off my 'i gave blood' sticker, ---but maybe i should have left it on. there wasn't a line, which was good. but my name wasn't on the regular voter list but was on another list. so i did a provisional vote. i thought i registered when i got my driver's license. anyway they let me vote. i remember where i first voted....an absentee ballot at the bank in Enterprise, Kansas, but i don't remember who i voted for. it probably was goldwater. that's probably why i can't remember on purpose.

to the bone

i just wore a sweater over a shell, after all i spent time in colorado and a little chill is nothing. by noon the prairie wind cut right through the sweater on my two trips to the art building and one to home for lunch. decided to were my lined rain coat back to school. by five it was really chilly, rainy, dark, and depressing. really un-colorado. on the last leg of my walk home i look out across a very flat harvested field of corn. it is really flat because they cut the corn right down to the roots for cattle food. looking out forever through grey air over brown ground made me wonder how any pioneer person survived. no tv, radio, music, sound (other than a spouse and probably complaining children). if you were lucky you had books and could read the classics around a fire. the evenings could be okay, but those days with not one house close by, no interchange of ideas, no running to town, and if your house was not really air tight, probably you were wearing the same clothes day after day. who would want to take a bath with the wind whistling through the house. my windows are not even attached at the bottom in some rooms so they sort of breath with the wind. on days like today with the wind blowing, i come home to find my front door blown open and even when it is closed it is signifigantly colder around the door entrance. in winter i put quilts over the railing around the entrance to stop the chill from invading the living area. i have plastic over my windows. when i take a shower the cold air from the bedroom windows pull at the shower curtian creating a chill. needless to say showers are not long. i could shut the door, but then my cat would scratch at the door to get in if he was outside and to get out if he was in. it may sound old fashioned but i have long underwear which i use when it is cold. so i layer and wrap up in throws and drink hot coffee. i know it was at least ten time worse years ago. how did they ever survive. no wonder willa cather wrote the story about the lady who once she went to new york to straighten out an inheritance, did not want to return to the prairie. if your house is tight and cosy and you can walk from your kitchen to your garage into a heated car in which to drive to heated workplace, well, you just don't realize how fortunate you are. especially if you sit around a fire in the evening with your family. now i have to go out again for supervision at the cafeteria and am trying to decide whether to walk or not. i need the exercise. maybe another layer will do it. then i can look like the kids in snowsuits.

pie crust

for me late summer and fall is memory time. so last night when i was baking banana bread for the students who were coming over for a bonfire supper, i thought about my grandmother when i fluffed flour all over the mixer and counter because i added the flour too quickly. i can still see her sitting on her rolling stool in the cozy farm kitchen baking wonderful bread--with flour all around. she always complained that she could never bake without flour somehow getting onto everything. the bread was great - especially served warm with slabs of butter and tomato perserves- and always baked with out receipe. then this morning my home companion came in the mail with an article about pie crusts. --which reminded me of my daughter. i was not a good cooking instructor to my daughter, but i did help her make her first pie crust (receipe from joy of cooking slightly altered). she is famous for her pies, impressing first her dad and then her husband's family. i think knowing how to make one tricky thing well gives confidence to try all sorts of things. now she makes all kinds of dishes. so maybe i did okay by her.

wanting, getting, dusting, disposing stuff

i guess i could never be a minimalist though now after a move i wish i was. there is something about my past and my character that abhors an empty room. i've tried to do the martha stewart look and the metropolitan home look, but almost immediately it morphs into the 'fill every nook and cranny' look. i spent a great deal of my life looking at things and desiring things, but since i have never had the funds to get the original, i tried to copy the look. well, now i have all this 'decor' and furniture and i am trying to give it away so my next move won't be so terrible. also, when you live in a windy place in the middle of corn field with a house where the windows aren't really that tight, there is dust on everything all the time. if i had the means, i would make sure all my cupboards, bookshelves, cabinets, drawers, etc. had airtight closures. they could have glass fronts, but they would be airtight. so i keep trying to give stuff away...and some of it is gone... lots of books to the school library, but when i thought to give my table away, no one really wanted it. (truly -- most of the stuff people have - unless they have antiques or have spent big money on a item, like furniture--doesn't really mean much to anyone else. they are the owners memories and experience) then i have two boxes packed with sheet music from my grandmother. and then there are the little paper houses of a castle village that i cut out a put together. my sister has the same problem. we have taken an oath not to buy any more 'decor' and especially anything that can be called 'cute." i already broken it--i bought little tiny clothes pins. --there were so cute. the only consolation is they don't take up much room. sigh.

the new ketchup

i remember the first time i saw someone put ketchup on eggs. culture shock--i had never seen anything put on eggs but salt and pepper. ketchup on eggs still doesn't sound too good, but...i really like salsa and onions and cheese with and on my eggs. but now i am in a culture where ranch dressing is used as the all around condiment. pizza of any kind dipped in ranch, chips dipped in ranch, french fries in ranch, and ranch mixed with ketchup or with ketchup and mayo as a dip. my taste buds are offended. but then i really probably shouldn't really wince. i love hotdogs dipped in a sauce of equal parts of heated ketchup and grape jelly.

that little box of samples

well i saved it for years, now with the recent move i don't know where it is or if i even have it anymore. i tried to use it in english class to show the kids what seersucker was when the story talked about the man wearing a seersucker suit or what a suit made of serge was like. wasted effort, so i put the box away in a safe place. you know what that means....it is safe from me ever finding it again. but in that box are samples of different types of wool. if i could find it i could drag them out as examples. wool--after being stolen from the sheep--is carded and processed into different types. if you want the material to be long wearing and durable you use the longest fibers to make the cloth. there will be no little fuzzies sticking out all over to make those nasty little pills--hence the finished product will have a "hard" feel. now what to do with all the little fuzzies. our calvinistic heritage really won't let us waste anything. so we weave it togeather to make flannel which has a very soft finish. however, as it turns out, other natural fibers also come in different lengths. the longer lengths of any fabric are always more durable and more expensive. so anyway, what kinds of materials are made from very short cotton fibers?---flannel. confusing. with all the words in the english language you would think they could come up with more specifc words---that is too hard. nah...that is too hard and no one would learn the new words anyway. the kids have it figured out---you just take the old words and give them new meanings to harass the old people.

the exception to the making of new words is in the tech world. for some perverse reason all the techy people find great pleasure and humor in crunching togeather letters and old words to make new words. i have to admit i find the new words fun. this crunching originated--i know because i had to do it, because you only had a limited space dictated by machine architecture to name files. so if you had to name a file quiz for chapter three section one of history--you might name it hc3s1q, and you would know what it was, but it would not be readily apparent to anyone else. the latest crunch words in wired include carbage (carbohydrates + garbage) and Kruegerware (ie- browser-hijacking software that, like freddie krueger, just won't die).

nostalgia, nylons, & denim

there are certain times of day, certain times of the year, even a particular fragrance, that can pull up a memory from eons past. a hot summer day is a day long ago spent vegatating on a beach in air thick with water on Martha's Vineyard. winter is getting stuffed into snowsuits and jackets that make your arms stick out and then walking forever in a nebraska blizzard to the mailbox on a sunday morning to get the newspaper. i always wonder what my parents were doing while my sister and i made the trek. we never got freezer burn or lost so it couldn't have been to dangerous. fall is walking down mapleton avenue in boulder in october when in a weeks time the trees go from golden with a few sugar maple reds to bare branches against the foothills. those memories are real. how is that a writer can make you think that the words you read are your memories? just finished reading that old ace in the hole and all the people and places seem like memories of mine. even though i have lived in colorado and nebraska for years, those places are not texas and oklahoma, although the prairie over the ogallala aquaifer-which she mentions in the book-takes in all those states. but the prairies are different--as different as evergreen forests are from decidious forests. still, it seems like i know those people--those people who are fit subjects for npr even though they don't like npr. that "antique" store that i have been in a million times in denver. that upper room with the special collections. those people who don't let you in their group until.... those crazy little festivals that all the towns have now to somehow give their place a place in the sun and maybe draw in a few tourists. the ending was a little too happy, but we need some happy endings in our lives.

and as for denim and nylons, well, i am not old enough to have drawn on seams for missing nylons during the war, but i have worn seamed nylons with garter belts. cheered when those things went away. pantyhose-what a disgusting name- where somewhat better, but some could squeeze the middle out of you and if you got a run in one leg, well the other leg had to go where the leg with the run went. i cheered when i could wear slacks to church with knee highs, but now i just want to wear plain old socks with slacks, or a long skirt. however, in the middle of the prairie things don't change as fast as on the edges, so i had to go back to wearing nylons to church. i should keep track of how much money i could save by not buying nylons that i could send to missions. could amount to a bit since i have not been able to wear nylons more than twice without wrecking them. most of the time it only takes one wearing. and can't wear the spray on stuff either. checking to see if you have hose on reminds me of checking skirt lenths with a ruler or by kneeling. hopefully, life is bigger and more meaningful than that. yes, it is. and their is the denim thing, too. no denim in church. even though i am older, there is still a part of me that is rebelious and ornery. i have a jacket that is make of broadcloth but at first glance you might think it was denim. i really like it. but, it is not denim--denim is made of two colors of threads, white and blue, woven in a twill pattern, whereas broadcloth is a simple over and under patter. it is possible to wear a jacket that is the same cut as a denim jacket as long as it is not denim. just more picky, picky, picky stuff. i hope no one from my work reads this.

what is there about denim -- for some people---older people, it is the material of the worker and the poor, not fit for high occasions. but in other generations it is considered a statement of rebellion, in others just a fashion statement, and finally in others pretty much nothing. for me it is a james dean thing.

group politics

from the time a person is able to realize other--they are aware of being part of or not part of. some of us create are group, some rush in, others are blocked out. when you have an artifical groups which are to act a unit--how do reconcile those old guard default leaders with the new positional leader? i used to think the smartest and most knowledgeable would be naturally followed. in time i learned knowledge and smarts are not the most important--there is that elusive social skill that allows you to mould people into a team. can it be learned? not sure.

light patterns

a mist clouded all the edges today as i walked back to my cottage from school. small golden locust leaves had thrown themselves in a random pattern across the gray sidewalk--a last bit of summer sunshine whispering goodbye. earlier my class watched as a true southern gentleman loaded his long rifle with powder and fired creating a flash of sharp light and a crack of thunder bringing down to the present an echo of battles of freedom. for better or worse, time is the mist that softens the intensity of those realities.

light

The best light is the sliver of light slipping through the cover of night sky with its promise of newness. The best light is the brilliant light of middle day that warms your soul. The best light is the soft smokey light ofautumn that wraps around your day.

gray skies

gray skies on the prairie engulf yesterday, today, and tomorrow. it is no wonder that some of the early pioneers were rather dour. --especially without electricity and the bright sounds of music from the radio or cd or ipod. for some of us the brightness of the sun is as important to the soul as sweet air. i read once a long time ago in high school social studies that one of the reasons the greeks became the culture they were and are, was the crystilline sun brightness of the sky. i have never been there but i have longed to go there since.

politics

It is everywhere! Who you know, how well you can spin, what you know, secrets--not my game. The best defense is probably really know your power source and keep quiet. If you think you are safe from politicing you are probably dead.