The Perm Story - well, Erin asked!!

Yesterday, I mentioned taking Spanish just to be in the same room with Troy Starr. Here's how bad it was: I'd had crushes before, even held hands with Jeff V. in 5th grade at the symphony, but nothing matched the adoration I felt when the Starrs moved to town. Now, I'd tried and tried to catch his eye; poor guy would have to have been totally blind and an imbecile not to see the efforts I was putting forth. Looking back, what a miserable little girl I was, but I digress.

School began our Sophomore year, and I joined the Pep Squad. ( In those days, it was a group of girls who sat together and cheered with the cheerleaders... no talent required, but it was too late to sign up for Band) It came time for us to start going to football games, and I'd still not won Troy's heart. In my desperation, I decided I needed a perm. Mom took me out to the place that would fix me up, and so on that Friday, I was newly curled. Ready to go. Finally, this would do it. I got plenty of attention and felt like this was going to be the night. Troy just didn't like me with STRAIGHT hair. Yea.

The game begins. Band behind the Pep Squad, so I knew he could see me and my bouncy curls. Then, it began to rain. And continued to rain, and all I could do was stand there with my newly chemically enhanced curls and feel the burn of the process cooking into my scalp and down my face. People held their noses, and wrinkled their faces and the black cloud of poison wafted through the football stands. Never before, and I don't think since, have I wanted to die so completely. As memory serves, the rain stopped, the game continued, and I rode home full of the knowledge that yet again, my unrequited love survived.

If I could ever see Troy Starr again, I'd beg his forgiveness for all the humiliation I put him through. I'd hope that with time, he'd come to remember this pitiful young girl who was so infatuated with him and laugh WITH her.

Mrs. Williamson would be so proud!!

The only reason I took Spanish in high school was Troy Starr. He was THE love of my young life, and I knew he'd be in that class. So, while I had the best teacher PHS had to offer, it was wasted on me because I was goofy in love. (Someday, I'll tell you the perm story!)

Now, I took two years of Spanish, but haven't really kept up with the lingo and rules, as life hasn't really taken me in that direction. Until last week during TAKS testing. On Wed., I was holed up in the room with 3 Special Ed kids, 8 books, and about 5 hours to kill. Hummph!
We pass the books around kid to kid, and I model by reading my book silently, but - hey; I can actually read my book, and my kids have books too hard for them. Needless to say, it doesn't take long to look at the pictures, and the books have all been shared.

Mercifully, lunch comes around, and we waste as much time in the cafeteria as we are allowed, then it's back to the class until 2:30. Oh my gosh; what now?!?! I look over at one stack of books, and I notice it is "Caps For Sale" -one of my very own favorites - in Spanish. Yep.
Well, I call the kids over to me, and begin to "read" this book. Now, all three are Hispanic children, and they don't read, but they sit there and listen to me butcher their native tongue while drawing on my knowledge of the story (which I haven't read since Erin was 4!)
Every now and then I'd ask, "Is that right?" and they'd all shake their heads. Not one of the sweet ones laughed at me (to my face, anyway.)
I'm sure had there been a video camera somewhere around, it would make it to the Funniest Home Videos, but hey, it killed a good 15 minutes.

Come to think of it, I think I hear Mrs. Williamson rolling over in her grave as I speak. "Caps, Caps For Sale, Fifty Cents a Cap!"

Let the Games Begin!!

We have a group of about a dozen couples who get together during the SPURS playoff games, and tonight was our first gathering. Didn't go our way; the SPURS let the Nuggets take the 1st game. Our guys just didn't look like themselves, but it's a 7 game series.

We take turns on hosting, but everyone gets to bring what they like to eat. Tonight was chalupas and delicious chocolate pound cake with a coconut frosting. We have a good time and try not to be too critical about the refs when it's OBVIOUS to us all they are against the poor SPURS. All us ladies wear our team earrings and t-shirts, and the guys have shirts and caps. We're probably pretty odd looking, when I think about it!!

GO, SPURS, GO!!

Not much to say today; tired from a week of TAKS testing and allergies. Coughing is aggravating and futile at this point; nothing is going to change until the pollens go away. A kid at school this week told me I need an inhailor! Those two factors leave me more tired than usual. Today, I feel like a person who has just had surgery.

Naps calling!!

Explain this to me....
When we are young, and are around adults like teachers, ministers, and our parents' peers, they look old. One-foot-in-the-grave old. Fast forward to our adulthood, and we see those same folks, and THEY LOOK JUST THE SAME ! If they are old now, that implies that in our youth, they were young - you know, like our age NOW! Can't get my mind around that.

Case in point. Today, I'm in HEB, and there are the parents of a childhood friend and my parents' friends. Known them all my life, and they look the same. Sure, there are a few more wrinkles, and their shoulders may be stooped with age, but other than that, it's like time has stood still for them. I'm thinking, hey - that means that when my students or daughters' peers see me in 25 years, I'll still young!! (But do they think I look old now?!?!) See, I'm confused!!!

One Down, One to Go!

This is for those of you who don't teach in the great state of Texas - a little info on the phenomenon called "TAKS."

Now, we aren't supposed to let it "drive" our teaching, but consider the following: if our class doesn't have a certain amount of passing, you don't get a contract. Right. Doesn't matter what type of class you get in the luck of the draw in August, if you don't get them up to standard, you're out of luck. We have to sign an oath, promising not to look at, discuss, modify or adapt the contents of said test. Doing so will cost you your teaching certificate. I have to sit with my little group of students at lunch so they don't talk about the test while eating - right. 4th grade boys who've had to sit silent for 4 hours, and they're going to discuss Math problems? Anyway -

After the testing is finished, the child has one option: they may read or sleep. I test students that are basically NON-READERS; how many times can they look at a book in, oh - 4 hours. No drawing, no word puzzles, no videos. Read or sleep. No talking. No nothing. It is miserable for me, and I'm an adult.

Well, tomorrow is the last day for testing for me. I'll have a group of 3. Should be fun.

Sorry about the griping....

"Crazy Little Thing Called TAKS"

Lots on my mind today - TAKS testing begins tomorrow, and I went to HEB to stock up on easy dinners and comfort food to snack on. Kinda like preparing for the Apacalypse. I'm already preparing to be exhausted the next two nights, based on previous years' experience, and am looking forward to Thursday morning, when it's all over. One teacher's husband got her SPURS tickets and a limo to celebrate Thursday night; I just want to come home and put my feet up.

Today we had our rally; one skit was based on Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz (Follow the road to your goal...). It was fun, and the kids liked it, but we were saying a lot of kids didn't know the Wizard of Oz. How un-American is that!?!?! Teachers acting silly and kids laughing like all get-out. The fun before the storm. The principal letting her hair down and the Superintendent urging the kids to "use their strategies" and "reach your goals." We'll see.

My big stress in 4th grade was to see who had the prettiest cover to their "Songs of Texas" folder in Social Studies. My, my, my.

Quite a Milestone

This weekend is the Poteet Strawberry Festival. Thought I had some cousins coming in, but that didn't happen. Kinda looking forward to joining them at the parade.... :(

At school yesterday, I was talking to some of the kids, and they had been to carnival wrist-band night. I told them it was easy for me to remember how long the Festival had been going on, since my parents married the first year.

This is the 60th year!! 60 years ago, a handsome rascal of a man married the challenge of his life, and together they lived in the same house on the corner of Avenue B and Boyd Street. The house grew as the family did, and it was a great place to grow up. My dad died in 1990, and mom in 2001; Gary, Marsha and I live literally across the country from each other, and the house doesn't look at all like it did. Except in memory. Mom's vibrate, artistic colors in each room, her lovely knotty-pine cabinets in the kitchen, and Dad's perfect grass.

I'm extremely grateful that, as years pass, the memories and feelings get sweeter and more kind.

Hugs

One of my favorite things to do right now is to hug. Not just a quickie, glad to see you, now move on hug; but a long, lingering hug.

In college, at the Bible Chair, we forbid FBC hugs - Full Body Contact hugs. They were off-limits because, well, you know those raging hormones on both sides of the species in college. So, we'd be sure nothing touched except for arms and maybe a hip if it was a side-to-side one. Only dating couples were allowed, and they were closely monitored!!

As I've aged, I've found great comfort in hugs that connect you with the soul of the huggee - one to share a moment of peace and love in an otherwise hurry-up world. I think it started in the latter days of my mom's life - we weren't always on the best of terms, but I'd heard that widows and widowers often craved physical touch when they were alone, so I tried to remember that when I was with mom. It was something meant for her, and yet I came to really enjoy those brief moments of affection. Now, I hug all my kids at school, and pretty much most people at church, just because it feels so good. To stand and hold Jackie or Roxanne in my arms while we talk is almost Heaven to me - a closeness that goes deep to my very soul.

It IS better to give than to receive - but in this case, it's all the same!!

Just Like Old Times, except Different!

Sunday was such a blessing - the ideal topping on the weekend. So many of Dana and Erin's group came home for Easter with their families that it was hard to see everyone. Everyone just wanted to stay around and visit as long as possible. A couple of the boys (men, now) served on the Lord's Table, and they looked so much like their dear dad, it was almost hard to look at them. As sweet as it was, it was a reminder that he is gone, and not there to see the amazing men they've grown into.

Dana, Erin, Gregg and Roarke were such a blast. We didn't get to work in the yard like I'd hoped, but we had fun. I spoiled Roarke just enough, and it was GREAT! Erin and Gregg did good picking him out. Dana stayed longer and went to evening services with us, and that was nice. I have wonderful memories to hold me for years.

I hope your weekend was good for you.

Chicks, bunnies, eggs, and cake

Kind of reminds me of that line in "The Wizard of Oz" - lions and tigers and bears, oh my!! Easter is all around me; sweet little stuffed animals, beautiful colors, reminders of the Savior's sacrifice and miraculous rising from the dead. It's a time of renewal and refreshing, and sweetness.

My kids are coming; Erin wants chocolate cake with white, crunchy frosting. We're having our dear friends join us for lunch on Sunday, and the games will be fast and furious. My yard looks grand, thanks to Andrew's hard work and some good choices we made in purchasing the right plants. Roarke is coming for all the excitement as well.

I'm a happy, happy woman today.

Allow me to vent, please !!!

First of all, I do not mean to offend anyone; I'm sure there are exceptions to every rule, and I know several who would apply to this post, but I gotta rant a little today....

Throughout the years, as far back as Dana's preschool days in Katy, I've been approached about private schools for children. It always makes my hair on the back of my neck stand straight up, because I feel very - can I say VERY strongly about certain aspects of private schooling. I know that the public schools have problems, and are not always the best in situations, and that there are kids who benefit well from attending smaller, more intimate, individual settings.
However -

Today, we received a letter from a student we know that attends a private school. Has for a while, and will continue there until graduation. Fine. That is the choice the family made and it is their sacrifice to provide this for their child. My beef comes when I get letters asking me to help with "fundraising" - tuition, and better yet, school trips to places like New York or such. I'VE NEVER BEEN; why would I pay for someone else's child to go? A couple of years ago, when Dana and Erin decided they were going to New York, they didn't send out letters begging for help to enhance their experience.
PLEASE! If you are willing to provide that for your child, go for it. I know many people who feel it is vital to their success, but don't ask others in carefully worded letters to "support" their choice. I want to shred it and return it in the enclosed envelope with a well-worded letter of my own. GRRRR!

Public school has supported my family and given me a fine career. While there were things about it when the girls were going through that I didn't like, I kept them there because I felt they had to deal with life and the people in the world. They came out of the experience having been exposed to a lot; good and bad, but with a rounded look at our society and the whole of the people that inhabit it. It was our choice.

Like I said, I don't want to judge or criticize those who choose to put their children in private schools - their reasons are theirs to deal with. But with that choice come the bearing of the debt.

Since it's the week of Easter, I'm thinking a lot about my life as a little girl. With all the cousins I had, Easter was quite a festive occasion. We'd often go down to Alice, where my grandparents and a couple of my mom's sisters lived, and everyone would be there. I was in the middle of 20 1st cousins, so I was in the best of all places.

My Mamaw, Inez May, had peacocks. Every time we went down there to visit, she'd have a feather or two to give me. I was so proud of those feathers, and knew that those birds were her pride and joy. (She didn't have much otherwise.) I could pick up whatever feathers I found on the ground, but I WAS NOT to go into the pen and approach the birds.

On one visit, the birds had held close to their plummage, and Mamaw had none to give me. Well, that was just WRONG. When I thought she wasn't looking, I went into the pen. There I stood, with evidence in hand, when out the side door of her "roundhouse" came Mamaw. I'd never seen her mad, especially at me, so it really startled me to see the look on her face. I couldn't move - the feathers weighed me down, and the peacocks were yelling my guilt at the top of their lungs! She got to me, took the feathers into one hand, and took me in
the other. I got dragged back into the house, where I spent the rest of the day alone. It was torture.

I never pulled out another peacock feather from then on.

Easter fun at school!

I'm excited about this week at school - it's Easter week! I got out my April folder and pulled all sorts of fun activities for the kids to do that have an Easter theme; multiplication sheets, vocabulary, abc order, etc. Also, a couple of just fun sheets to color - my favorite thing to do with my kids. (You want to know something about a kid - hand them a color! They concentrate on the coloring and spill their guts! ) Anyway, it livens things up and gets us ready for the fun of the holiday.

Another good point - only 4 days of school this week!! Have a good Monday!