from the porches

you're grounded

I was thinking about Merry Jennifer today, about how this weekend she is on call.  She doesn't travel out of Gainesville when she is on call, and her pager rings continuously.  It makes me wonder if the nurses are "getting back" because they are not doctors.  I've overheard Merry Jennifer's side of these pages and basically, she says,  "Did you check this level?  Or that level?  How about his temperature?"  (Mind you, I just made up that dialogue simply because I truly can't remember my own conversations anymore.)  However, it caused me to think that she and Sam are both 'grounded' for a whole weekend.

Being grounded reminds me of the time Truett grounded Clay for 6 weeks when Clay was probably 9 or 10.  Do you know the implications of a kid this age being grounded?  I know it well.  I couldn't go anywhere because Clay couldn't go anywhere.  I could not take Clay down the road to play for 4 hours to get him out of my hair.  I had to take him to the grocery with me.  UGH!  And I heard that dadblasted TV 24/7  At the end of 6 weeks I informed Truett,  "NO MORE!  I"VE BEEN GROUNDED AS WELL!"  But it sounded cool.  "My son is grounded."  or "We grounded our son."  My advice is pull off that belt or better yet, tell your child to go get a switch; maybe realize none of this is going to make a difference in the scheme of things and just have a glass of wine.

Anyway, Merry Jennifer and Sam seem to be doing fine.  We saw them this afternoon.  Maddie and I compared 'boo-boos'.  She had one and I had 5.  Friday morning I didn't step up high enough to step onto the studio porch and went flying across on my knees and elbow.  I have 5 boo-boos now.  Madeline was very sympathetic, but she needed a new band-aid for her 1 boo-boo. Oliver was all smiles and literally jumped for Truett when he saw his grandaddy.  Maddie is now a 'daddy's girl', which is a relief for Merry Jennifer for a week or so, and Truett and I got our hugs, kisses and rough-housing for a few days.  Life is good.

a luxury

Do you know what luxury is?  It is not being wealthy.  It is not having BMW's or boats.  It is being able to sleep until 6:30 instead of 5:30 a.m.  It is being able to have coffee for as long as it lasts, maybe until 8:00 a.m.  Luxury is not being rushed to return from a vacation into a world of chores and responsibilities.  Folks, luxury is having a week free from hurridness, rush, and instant responsibility.  Luxury is my spring break coming to a close and I have enjoyed it immensely.  I've tended to business, to the house, I've read and thought. ..  What more could I ask for?

spring break

I'm loving spring break.  A little bit of work.  A little bit of cleaning.  A little bit of fun.  A lot of reading and birdwatching.  Plus, I've watched spring officially come to Fort White by being aware of the exact date that the pecan trees budded this year.  This, in my town, is the sure sign that cold weather is over.  I keep a weather diary and have off and on for years.  I saved calendar pages for years so I could anticipate the arrival of the chuck-wills-widow (a bird).  I know when my jasmine bloomed last year because of my weather journal.  I know many people have the ability to remember these things, but I'm a visual learner; therefore, I record the dates and after many years, "it sticks." 

A few things are getting done, the necessary ones; but I'm just happy about being around home, and feeling relaxed. Piddling is my term for it, and in the blink of an eye, I can change directions.  I'm loving playing with Roger, my cat, taking Maddie to swim lessons and hanging out with Truett on the porches, birdwatching.  I did a little shopping today (the best motivator for losing weight), and I've spent time with mom without feeling rushed or exhausted at the end of the day.  Plus, I have only 6 more weeks of school until a long summer break.

if you break a cookie

Yesterday Truett and I took Madeline to her swimming lesson.  Everything was going well.  Maddie did her thing and then it was time for the next class of swimmers.  After swimming lessons the children are rewarded with an old-fashioned butter cookie.  It looks much like a flower and has a center hole.  The swim teacher walks to each young swimmer and sticks the cookie on the children's index finger.  Then the children nibble the cookie off.

Well, wouldn't you know it.  As I was hurriedly pulling Maddie's dress over her head, the cookie got in the way and it broke in half!   It's funny how one small act can cause a major meltdown in a three year old. 

"NANA! YOU BROKE MY COOKIE!"

"I'm sorry, Maddie.  You can still eat it."

"IT'S BROKEN!"  she wailed.  Then the tears flowed.  Who knows.  It was probably her dripping wet hair.

Nevertheless, I could see her whole world falling apart in front of my eyes and in front of a dozen other parents who were probably watching to see how I would handle the situation.  Maddie tried to stick the cookie back together; but of course, that did not work.  Then she refused to eat the cookie, all the while whining,  "My cookie!  My cookie!"

Oh, what to do?  Such a cookie conundrum.  I was definitely in a quandary.  Do I sheepishly tell the swim teacher Nana broke Maddie's butter cookie and could you stick another one on her finger?  Nope.  I didn't have the guts to do that.  Truett, in the meantime repeatedly said,  "Maddie, just eat the cookie."

Finally, Maddie gave up.  She stuck one half of the cookie in her mouth and mumbled,  "Yum!"  Then she ate the rest.  Believe me,  I let out a sigh of relief equal to Hurricane Floyd.

The cookie story continued at Moe's, Maddie's favorite restaurant.  Granddaddy chose a raisin cookie.  Bad choice.  Maddie literally tore that cookie apart removing each raisin.  "I don't like them raisins,"  she said as she threw them one-by-one on the floor.  Believe me I've had enough of cookies and the lesson I learned is "Don't mess with a 3 year old's cookies!"

whirlwind

Life for the past couple of days has been a whirlwind for me.  Friday was great.  I zoned out!  Saturday came and mom called and said,  "Aunt Charlene is coming in three hours."  I looked at my house.  Dust everywhere.  Lightbulb boxes stacked on the kitchen island. Yellow pollen a half inch thick covered my beautiful porches.  So I sent the "all call."  "Clay!  Get up now!  You and your friend must clean my porches!  Truett!  Install the lightbulbs!  Rush!  Rush!  Hurry!  Hurry!"

Then my aunt and her friend arrived from Clarksville, Tennessee. The house was a showcase.  We hurriedly rushed her through our house, ate lunch at the "Goose Nest", (southern homestyle killer food) and then Truett and I watched the Gators win against Purdue in basketball.  Once again, thank you, Lord.

Come Monday.  Truett and I worked our regular 8+ hours and then we headed to Gainesville (thirty miles away) to take our grandaughter, Madeline, to swimming lessons.  We were told by Merry Jennifer that Maddie knew the way when we parked.  I said,  "Maddie, do you know the way from here? "

"No, Nana.  I don't know the way."  Eventually, Truett and I found our way to the Florida Gator swimming pool.  It was so neat watching Madeline learn to swim.  Well, in the meantime, my brother from Nashville calls on his cellphone.  "Hey, we thought we'd swing by and visit." (all the way from Tennessee.  Doesn't anyone know about cellphones?)

Well, we missed his visit, but it certainly would have been nice had we seen he and Alice, his wife.  Come Monday and Truett and I  worked like dogs, catching up.  It's Tuesday and we're still working.  But all I'm thinking is,  "Saturday begins MY spring break.  Lord, help me make it until then."

unfortunate incidents

Am I special or jinxed?  I have had three unfortunate incidents in restaurants over the past 16 years.  That means every five and one half years something dreadful will happen to me in a restaurant. 

The first incident occured in 1981.  My family was dining in a local restaurant in High Springs, Florida.  My son, who was four at the time, crawled beneath the table to retrieve a toy dinosaur or something and decided to raise up just as the waitress was refilling my coffee cup, leaning between me and my son to do so.  SPLASH!  Hot coffee scalded my chest.  Truett informed the waitress that my Playboy days were over.  We paid the bill and left.

Incident #2.  Truett and I were entertaining a stained glass painter in a seafood restaurant at Cedar Key, Florida.  Good conversation.  We watched dolphins leap out of the gulf and pelicans land on battered shack roofs.  I ordered my usual, a seafood platter, baked potato and heart of palm salad.  The food was brought to our table and I stuck my fork in the baked potato and it exploded.  POW!  Potato flew in my eyes, my hair, on my chest and ten feet away.  Eventually, I was cleaned up and we paid the bill and left.

Yesterday was incident #3.  Truett and I met with the director of Columbia County Tourism and a representative from the Alachua County tourism office.  We were dining in Madison, Florida at a really neat restaurant, "The One Eleven".  Good old homestyle cooking and quaint atmosphere.  Things were going well.  Nice conversation.  A couple of beers, and then it happened.  The waitress walked behind me with a tray holding a pitcher of ice water and glasses.  Suddenly, SPLASH!  I leaped from my chair and shouted,  "What was that?"  I was drenched all down my back and sitting in ice water.   The poor waitress and managers apologized over and over.  When we left, my dinner was free.  Thank the Lord for small miracles.

So...remind me in 2023 to stay away from restaurants!  If any of you are mathematicians, my numbers may be off, so just deal with it!  Tonight we ordered pizza in! 

TGIF

Fridays are the best day of the week if you work outside of the home.  Today in my classes we celebrated Friday.  We walked outside and the 7 year olds (second graders) took notes on what they saw, heard and felt as we stood beneath aged pecan trees.  No talking.  Just looking, listening and feeling.  What great paragraphs these second graders wrote because of the cumulus clouds zipping across the skies, the wind blowing at a brisk pace, enough to muss my hair, and the sounds of crows cawing and children laughing or chattering.  Spring is definitely almost here.  I love the way the second graders combine their images into a meaningful paragraph; ie, "The wind blew on my skin and the grasshopper hopped on my foot.  I saw a jet in the sky that left cotton strips in the sky." 

I know that when  our elementary students leave our school after fifth grade, they may not be taught writing like we do it at the elementary level.  I am so proud of these 7 year olds who take writing seriously and trust what I tell them.

All in all it was a wonderful Friday.  I read some great tee shirts worn by a few of the boys:

     "Yeah!  I know.  Go to my room!"

     "Whatever it is, I didn't do it!"

     "I'm allergic to my sister."

     ""Keep your hands to MYSELF."

So have a good weekend.

deadlines

The students at my school have been writing and illustrating their own original books published by Studentreasures Publishing, a division of Nationwide Learning.  These books are hard bound books that parents have the opportunity to purchase.  It's a wonderful opportunity for children to be published and for parents to be proud. 

Since I coordinate the project I must set deadlines.  Generally, the children have typed their stories in alphasmart computers (lap tops) and the stories are printed out and formatted for their books.  The content has been completed since January.  Then the students have six weeks to draw 8 pictures.  That doesn't sound difficult, does it?  Well, most students meet the deadline.  Others whine that they have no watercolor markers.  Even one child said,  "My mama wouldn't let me illustrate until last night" (the day before the deadline; therefore, his book was not completed.

March 12 arrived.  The deadline.  Most books were completed.  But on March 13 I had three children say,  "I brought you my book."

"Sorry,"  I replied.  "You missed the deadline." The children tucked their tails and left.  This sounds horrible, doesn't it.  A teacher not accepting late work.  The thing is, the students were told there would be no extensions on the deadline.

Now to the teachers and parents.  The adults knew the deadline.  You wouldn't believe how many adults said,  "Can I have until tomorrow?"  Or the parents who are sending money in 3 days after the deadline.  But all good things must come to an end.  So after 12:00 noon today, the office is closed.  Our rural parents purchased $2750.75 worth of books.

I truly believe that we're not teaching responsibility by accepting work past the deadline.This isn't very exciting, but there's something niggling at my brain.  I've also written a book to be published through Studentreasures and I haven't done my pictures yet and I'm 4 days past deadline.  I guess the guilt has set in.

wild hogs

"Wild Hogs" is a must see movie.  Plug your ears for some profanity, but the movie moves at a quick clip, and is absolutely hilarious.  No lulls whatsoever.  Just good old belly laughing.  Plus it has all the elements of a narrative (story). Laughter is the best medicine!

ibis on the greens

This afternoon my friend, Lucille, and I played golf, thanks to daylight savings time.  The weather isn't so humid yet and we played from about 4:00-6:00 p.m.  It had been  about a year since I've played golf, so I was curious if I had lost my swing.  No, I had not.  I can drive a golf ball down the fairway pretty long and straight; it's the putting and chipping I need practice with.  PRACTICE!  That's the key word.  However, it was so refreshing to be out in the spring air watching ibis landing on the greens or beside the ponds plucking out whatever it is they pluck out of muck.  Exhilarating it was as I whacked that ball as hard as I could and muttered,  "There goes that burden."  WHACK!  "Good-bye frustration!"  WHACK! I could feel tensions releasing.

It was just so delightful to be back on a golf course.  The courses are so manicured and the wildlife I've seen on the golf courses throughout the country are National Geographic moments.  I've driven the ball across a hill in Tennessee while a deer drank from a brook beneath the rising hill.  I've turned the cart in a 90 degree turn in South Carolina only to find a fat snake coiled on the cart path.  Ducks, owls, fat squirrels, alligators.  One time I saw a mother raccoon and her babies curled up by the edge of a pond in St. Augustine.  I've even seen the space shuttle lifting off while we were playing golf in Vero Beach.   There's much to love about golf and I believe it is the courses themselves.