6.30 Day 25 Delightful Mismatches

Hotels. There's the chain variety, where everything is neat as a surgical suite and just about as organized. There's the chain variety, where things have slipped a bit, and the experience can get downright disgusting. There's the Mom and Pop places that pay great attention to detail. And the ones who don't! And then there's the Retro And Always Was variety.
We are esconced in such an abode in Fish Creek, Wisconsin; in the Door County area (read: trendy vacation spot). Our small drive-up motel provided us with a rather large 'suite' with separate bedrooms, a television dated circa 1972, the same bathroom wall and floor tile as my mom's 1946 house, and nary a grounded outlet anywhere. For a mere $116/night.
Bertha fumes a little without the in-room coffee maker and a place to plug in her cell phone. I'm struggling a bit sitting down the block, using the WiFi in the car to avoid the ravenous mosquitoe (the "free" WiFi doesn't extend to the actual motel rooms...) But our room has "ambiance". Not the chic' resort kind, but the kind in my old aunt and uncle's house that we used to visit when I was a kid.
Add to that today's delights at the Three Seasons Restaurant, an aptly named place on the upper shore of Lake Michigan, near Manestique. We went there on the recommendation of a local and the food was truly great. I noticed with a mixture of humor and respect a poster of Rosie the Rivetor, up on the wall about the cup racks. The racks held the cafe's collection, carefully resting on their lips, at arms' length so the wait staff could easily reach them. The beauty of it all: very few of the cups matched. Some with burgandy bands, some with green. Some others a plain tan. A few darker silvery color, and a few odd ducks.
I LOVE it.
The world needs more mismatches. We are entirely too "Disney".

6.29 Day 24 Cats, a Bird and a 99-year-old

Agnes will be 100 years old in December. She's Bertha's cousin, and was like her sister when they grew up together in Minnesota's German community of Giese.
We went to visit today. Agnes lives ALONE, yes alone. Son Jim lives about a half hour away, and was there tilling the garden when we arrived. Until recently, a young couple - relatives - had lived with Agnes, but they recently moved away.
The house is neat and brick, with a front step far too deep for anyone over 65. Cats ran through the raspberry bushes and along the apple trees. Agne's bed is in the living room. We barely could see her there, curled and bony like a newborn deer. She didn't feel well today - unusual for her, said Jim. Perhaps she was so excited about our visit that she overdid it?
Throughout the conversation she listened and chimed in in her strong, clear voice from time to time. We offered a cookie; she ate it industriously - no teeth in while resting! She sat up a bit to drink some water, told me her "indoor" cats names: Molly and Dolly, and chimed in with comments on the conversations about relatives. I kept wishing she'd sit up and be perky, but she was a little foggy and sleepy. Her long grey hair was satiny, her tiny feet poking out from under the blanket. Agnes was always a very small woman; at this age she weighs only 84 pounds!
We left a trail of prayers and even a few teardrops as we drove away. Will this be the last time? The strength and fortitude of this tiny, powerful woman can be felt miles away. God heal her, mend her, and when the time is right, give her safe passage.

6.28 Day 23 Too Many Coasts; Too Little Time

Just think - Michigan has many coastlines! Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, Lake Huron, and Lake Ontario...
Our Michigan guests set up for us a gallery hop experience in the neighboring towns of Douglas and Sagatuck; two 'seaside' communities on Lake Michigan. The area was originally founded as "Singapore, Michigan" in the mid-1800's; the early settlers fully expecting it to become the next Chicago or St.Louis. The town boomed with the lumber industry; but when the trees were all gone it died quickly. The remaining settlers moved a bit away from the water on inlets from the big lake, which communities became Douglas and Sagatuck. Singapore, Michigan's most famous ghost town, lies on the shore beneath the dunes...
It was a cat day. One of the galleries had a large bronze cat called Fat Cat. A jewely store had a cat bed inside; when I inquired, the proprietor told me that Douglas was "out" and would be home later! S P O I L E D !! A southwestern gallery hosted a large cat tabby laying on the counter -- Butler! He had a clipped ear. I found out that he had been a feril cat caught in a trap - neuter - return sting; hence the clipped ear. Post-neuter, he hung out a lot in the family's garden. They fed him for over a year; and finally he went from ferile wild cat to household spoiled lap cat!
We drove out onto the forested dunes, bought some fresh strawberries, and went 'home' to Grand Rapids to pizza at Vitales...
Most of my colleagues were gone; just a few stragglers left tonight!

6.27 Day 22 Make The Most; or You Never Know...

Our main hostess in Michigan is a woman named Mary. She's been planning this workshop expereince for her 50 colleages for well over a year; gathering locations, figuring costs, getting sponsors, planning events, gatting sponsors, coordinating schedules; for a long, long time.
Just a week or so before the "event", Mary got a phone call. Her hubby had been motorcycling with a friend on Route 66; in western Oklahoma, when trajedy sprung. The heat had buckled the pavement; and even though Gary is a motorcycle safety instruction, the morning light prevented him from seeing one of the tar warps, and he flew -- up into the air, topsy turvy with bike.
Gary landed with a leg bent behind him, broken ribs, a shattered collarbone, and multiple injuries. Due to his companion and relatively new outpost LifeFlight services, he was reached in 15 minutes and airlifted to Oklahoma City, a transport that would have taken over two hours by ambulance. Mary got the call that the leg was in some trouble; she headed to OK from her home in Michigan.
When she arrived, it was apparent that it was much worse that she'd expected. The lower leg was mangled so badly that they had to amputate it. Despite vein grafts to get blood flow into the upper leg, the veins wouldn't take; and soon the upper leg had to be amputated as well. The shoulder had to be rebuilt. The OTHER leg was discovered to have multiple breaks as well. Blood clots began in the leg and lungs. All of this just as Gary was beginning to realize the extent of his injuries...
Gary was flow home 9 days after the accident; transferred from Oklahoma City to a Grand Rapids hospital. The ambulance transport first brought him to the wrong airport; then Gary was hungry, so the ambulance driver took him through the Arby's drive-through...
Mary arrived home yesterday, well into her event. 50 people dined at her house tonight, at her insistence and with the help and support of her friends. She's had 28 hours of sleep in 11 days...
Life is fleeting; we forget how quickly we can be gone or have our lives changed dramatically...
Keep Gary and Mary in your thoughts and prayers....

6.26 Day 21 Living Stories; and Living Things

I can't say enough good things about these people; my colleagues in Art Education. They are simultaneously the world's parents, counselors, sages, seers, doctors, psychologists, judges, juries, listeners, and challengers. They mend emotional wounds or know when one needs to be opened to let it drain. They know when to challenge thinking, and when to let it stew. They are constantly monitoring and adjusting the dials and levels that manage each individual students' life flight...
All one has to do is pull a few words out: rab the edge of a sentence or paragraph; and one can tease out a long string of story. It's amazing. I could listen for days.
This afternoon we visited Maijer Gardens. It's an outdoor sculpture park and botanical garden that shows up as #1 on the attractions list for Grand Rapids, Michigan. There are acres of gardens, woods, fens, waterfalls, prairies and ponds; many areas studded with sculpture. The effect is stunning - instead of catching a glimpse of a deer in a wooded area, one catches a glimpse of a sculptural form, and is drawn in to peruse it further. All of us, approximately 50 art education leaders from 15 states, huddled around a 24' high bronze horse to have our photo taken. Some of us are visiting with family members, turning a work experience into a 'vacation' opportunity, creating new layers of story.
Life meets art meets life generates story. My math solution for the day!

6.25 Day 20 * Big Audacious Goals (B.A.G.)

Deborah Reeve is amazing. As the current director of our national professional organization, the National Art Education Association, she has grabbed the bull by the horns - moving the organization quickly and professsionally into a new realm of advocacy, service and accountability. Our day at the NAEA Western Leadership Sessions and Meeting flew by quickly - all of the presentations were so GOOD; there was no time spent waiting for anything to end. Deborah, as always, has anticipated needs even to the point of providing a sheet that detailed where her presentation could be downloaded. She inspires - and not in a phony way. Her praise is genuine and acts as a catalyst for action. She is a model of an effective leader: professional and trusting with high expectations and clear goals.
I look at the assembly of art education leadership here, 14 stsates' worth, and see a good deal of age/wisdom and experience. People who can do. Deborah inspires them TO do.
Up her sleeve today: cloth bags printed B.A.G. - Big, Audicious Goal. Her compelling vision, which one could not help but share, to double our national membership.
We're with you, Dr. Reeve. How could we not be?

6.24 Day 19 * The Call of the Open Road, or: Driving Ms. Bertha

The Call of the Open Road; or Driving Miss Bertha
Mom is a hoot. I'm not sure how many 88-year-olds are actually willing to pack up their meds and blood pressure cuffs and canes and snack foods and hit the road for days at a time, but she is. Almost always. "Beats sitting at home", she says. And (the phrase we always tease her about), everything is "so INTERESTING!". No wonder she's the age she is - things continue to be interesting and lively; and there is so much more to explore!
Lest any of you think that Bertha is an anamoly, allow me to introduce Evelyn Maki (nee: Evelyn Ruotsinoya). Evelyn, who married into the family as did my mother, is a mere 84. She lives in St. Joseph, Michigan; and we looked her up after finding her address online. She was married to my dad' Aunt Olga's son, Clinton Maki. Mom hasn't seen or heard from Evelyn for years, yet her call was warmly welcomed. We spent part of the afternoon with this delightful lady, the oldest of her siblings at 83. Turns out she used to live with Clinton on the very block that Pat and I live on in Duluth; and that she graduated from high school in Litchfield with one of Mom's very good friends from the Cities (how many people are named Ruotsinoya, after all?). Evelyn gave us a tour of St. Joseph; from it's lovely long sandy beaches to its adorable downtown; replete with little Cape Cod-esque shops and cafes...
Tonight rendezvoused the the Western Region art teachers; from the wilds of Kansas and Indiana to the cities of Texas and Iowa. We're here to work, but it's always a pleasure to share time with these dedicated teachers... And Bertha gets a few days out of the car!

6,23 Day 18 Gotta Love Truckstops, or THey Still Smoke in Wisconsin

Gotta Love Truckstops, or; They Still Smoke in Wisconsin
We're in the Hearty Platter cafe, off the interstate at the Kwik Trip in Mauston, WI. Mom and I were delighted to discover 2 pieces of broasted chicken with potato and vegetable AND a trip to the salad bar, which included not only salad but soup AND dessert, for $4.95. I doubt we could have gotten a burger at Culver's across the street for that much. God bless the truckstops, and God help the truckers who eat this all on a regular basis!! Lordy!
We're so used to having "no smoking" in Minnesota - it took a minute for my nasal passages to compute what the heck that scent was - I'd forgotten just how good we have it in Minnesota; with no smoking. Even though no one in the cafe' was smoking at that time, it hung in the air. 2010: no more smoking in Wisconsin restaurants - not a minute too soon!
We're en route to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I will be attending the National Art Education Association's Western Region meeting and leadership training. Work, but fun work I guess! Pat's working and looking for jobs, so Mom opted to come along for the ride!

6.22 Day 17 Where Have All My Minutes Gone?

Where Have All My Minutes Gone?
OK, through the haze of business I recall hearing that it was solstice, and I've already passed the longest day of the year, AND according to the ratty little dweeb on the evening news, "today is already 2 minutes shorter." Shut Up! I am NOT ready to hear that. The last hour just vanished in a single moment, and pretty soon I will be accelerating into some weird time blurp like in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." Not to worry, I guess, as my mind IS spotted; so perhaps I'm OK by default. But jeez! Where did the time go?
I am trying like fury to get out of town (and, I can hear you waving your finger at me, you're typing on your blog? Helllo??) The printer broke. Between having to get something done at school, getting to the chiropractor before I spend hours in the car en route to Michigan, going to the bank, going to the OTHER bank, getting my INR machine calibrated (this little gizmo that checks the thinness of my blood, for heart valve purposes), helping Pat read over a job application -- well, I already missed my 4 Sustainable Twin Ports meeting. What's still not done? The kiln inventory, my room at school, AEM things and so much more....
Well it must be tomorrow by now. Gotta go.

6.21 Day 16 * How Much Wood Could A Woodchuck Chuck?

How Much Wood Could A Woodchuck Chuck?
Woke up EARLY (still on that school schedule; a hard habit to break!) Did dishes, clothes, floors, rugs, and went to take out some garbage. By the time I got halfway down "the back 40" (as we lovingly call the back end of our long, thin, urban lot!) I could see them: three little critters frolicking near the steps to the alley. Baby Woodchucks!!! Cuuuuttttee!
I watched them for a bit; then as I stepped forward, all three 'stood up' like their squirrel cousins, front paws hanging and noses up to sniff the air. Following Mama Woodchuck's lead (we have decided to call her 'Penelope'); they scuffled off under the sauna.
I hit Wikipedia with my morning soda, and learned that woodchucks are indeed related to squirrels. Also called "marmots" and "ground hogs", they are now quite plentiful, moreso than in the frontier days. Woodchucks, ironically enough, flourish where there is a lack of forest - they are more able to burrow where humans have interfered with the natural cover of wood. "Benign nuisance", one reference claimed.
Benign, but cute. I suppose I could be worrying about how to get rid of them, but why? Penelope was resourceful enough to find a great place to raise her family, complete with tolerant humans and a sauna that now apparently has a basement.

6.20 Day 15 * "You Plant A Seed and It Grows"

"You Plant A Seed, and It Grows" is as simple as one can boil it down to - the calm faith of life. Artist friend and mentor Hazel Belvo share this mantra with me years ago. Standing in my garden on a warm soon-to-be-summer day, sweat pouring, dirt sticking to said pouring sweat; my hair makes me look like Unibomber Ted Kazinski (sp?) - it's sticking straight up with a mousse of sunscreen and insect repellent. I'm a happy camper.
Really no mosquitos yet; just hoards of ticks sharing the day, reminding us humans of our place in the natural order!
What could be more amazing? Waist-high Egyptian onions; their green tubes overlapped flat. The red-veined leaves of beets, beginning to poke to the sun. Squash blossoms, which I recall eating, sauted in tacos, in Mexico. Asparagus gone to seed, taller than I. Horeradish dizzily drilling it's white roots downward. The brightest green basil leave against the red-brown soil. The tiny stringed dots of the grapevine, each plotting to grow up into a large red grape. Even the chilly white curl of the cutworm as I eject it over the fence, airborn from a shovel catapult.
You plant a seed, and it grows.

6.19 Day 14 * Two Weeks, and Nary A Vacation In Sight

Two Weeks; and Nary A Vacation in Sight...
Wow. I can't believe I've been "officially" done with school for two weeks. WHERE DID IT GO?? Every day I've been in town I've been AT school, working to muck out old plaster with scissors stuck into it, filthy clay-dusted sprinkled fabrics and papers, and paint-splattered bins. Or having a curriculum meeting. Or discussing jobs - who was staying and who is going - with my colleagues. Or working on the kiln inventory.
Not only does it not feel like vacation, it doesn't feel like I've caught up on anything or gotten anything done.
We are running to the cabin tonight, to weed and garden. At least it will LOOK like vacation.

6.18 Day 13 * Winter In Summer, or; Why Didn't I Wear Tights?

Winter in Summer, or, Why Didn't I Wear Tights?
I am an admitted technodweeb. Having worked as a teacher-trainer for the ArtsConnectEd website when it was launched in 2000, I came back to help with the remake and relaunch of this fabulous website - a joint venture of the Minneapolis Institute of Art and the Walker Art Center. We spent the day in one of the MIA's lavish boardrooms; our minds whirring with the wonder of where we could take our students with this fantastic tool.
I was distracted only by the cold. Yes, in June - the cold.
You know how cold it is in Minnesota's summer establishments? The cafes, museums, department stores, etc? If it were THAT cold in there in January, people would be complaining like crazy. But somehow, when it's above 60 degrees outside, there's free license for it to be quite cool indoors. I made it through the morning by sandwiching my sandaled feed between my purse and my computer bag; albeit my calves were frosty to the touch.
What a relief to get out into some warm air!

6.17 Day 12 * MomSpeak, or; The More Things Change, The More THey Stay the Same

Momspeak, or The More Things Change; the More They Stay the Same
I don't know about you, but the protocols at Mom's house never change.
Mom is 88, I am 49. Yet, when I am home, I'm lovingly reminded to pull the door shut, be careful not to step on the pepper plants in the garden, etc. You'd think I'd know by now, right?
Mom has a house FULL of treasures, and I do mean full. She grew up during the Great Depression, and her values regarding "stuff' would make any environmentalist proud. Things are not simply thrown away; they are repurposed. Or saved for the future. Or dismantled and recycled. Or gifted - but only to someone who will appreciate them.
I still remember when Great Aunt Olga had to move into a nursing home. Her daughter in law went into her house and just threw- virtually everything. Another cousin rescued photographs, favorite dishes and more from the trash. It felt like a rape - all of this elderly woman's household discarded so casually, after being cared for for so long. I try to respect that with Mom; helping her with the repurposing, rather than admonishing her for her collections.
Lots of time to work on that today, and to buy plants together. Rather than return to Duluth between my Tuesday meeting (AEM) and my Thursday meeting (artsconnected); I chose to hang out at the homestead...

6.16 Day 11 * Taking Care of Business, or; "if we don't do it, who will?"

Taking Care of Business, or "if we don't do it, who will?"
Around the table today in Rochester sat our AEM (Art Educators of Minnesota) Council - teachers whose jobs should really be done for the year. But, here we were!
I would not be surprised to see these same individuals at OTHER council tables in OTHER places. Have you ever noticed that the same handful of people do everything? Go to the PTA meeting - they're there, baking cookings and planning for the rummage sale. The political rally? They're there - holding signs and getting donations. The "insert medical malady organization here" fundraiser? They're there, doorknocking for Cancer or Heart Disease or Hodgkin's Lymphoma or... Church? They're the ones doing altar guild, serving as ushers, rallying the campaign for Africa. You get the point.

6.15 Day 10 * Crookshanks & The Woodchuck

"Crookshanks" & The Woodchuck*
Today, after we moved stuff off of the porch to get ready for the roofers, we heard a loud, crabby "meeoowwwwl, meowwwlll" coming from the alley. "Kitty! Kitty"" I called out (can't help it folks; it's instinctive...) Here came a large yellow/orange tabby, "meeowwwlll", up the stairs from the alley.
After a little sweet talking, tummy scratching, and ear rubbing, we were pals. The cat had a very distinct twist in it's tail, complete with a bump - as though he'd caught it in a door and broken it. "Just like Crookshanks, from Harry Potter", I cooed, "Crook in the tail, yellow tabby; Hermione's cat..."
As Pat and I were complementing this handsome feline, "Crookshanks" caught movement from under the sauna - our friendly local Urban Woodchuck. Game on.
After a good deal of sniffing and straining on the parts of both critters, the cat got a little too close. The sound coming from the woodchuck cave was startling: "Eeeeeeeeeeee! chk chk chk Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" I didn't know that woodchucks had voices, let alond piercing screams, but this one was downright operatic!
A pleasant experience after a day of working at school and takin' care of business....
*Note to self- Title Blog Entries.

6.14 Day 8 * A Midsummer Night's Woodchuck

Can it be that it's already the middle of JUNE? How is that possible, when we still have the quilt on the bed and the mittens in the car??
There's a woodchuck living under the sauna. I saw her today when I went back into our "back 40" - our nickname for our long, skinny, city lot. At first I thought she was a rabbit; but no - short rounded ears, lovely granite-colored fur; the little pad of a tail.
Our yard seems to be a haven for critters of all sorts. My mother, knowing full well what my answer would be, asked "Well, what are you going to do?" To which I responded "Try to stay out of her way - she probably has babies under there."
Can't we live peacably with the rest of the natural world? Why is our first instint to kill the spider, trap the rodents, mow out the weeds. I mean, if something is imposing in some way, I could see working to reorient it: mice, for example, would not be welcome in my home. But a woodchuck under the sauna? She's not bothering anyone.

6.12 Day 8 * You Look "Fair" In Those Tights, M'Lord

We spent some time today at the Renaissance Faire (yes, that's "Fair" with an "e" - just as in "olde", "shoppe", and other words denoting tourism) in in Twig, MN. It's a small "Faire", especially in comparison to Minnesota's Shakopee Renaissance Festival, but delightfully non-Disney. Pat was a swarthy pirate by my side, and I but a poor serving wench!
It all made me wonder: hundreds of years from now, will there be "Early 21st Century Fair"s? Or "Faire"s? Will people dress up in OUR 'costumes of the day'? I can just imagine folks donning ass pants, applying fake tattoos to mimic the "tramp stamp" of the day. Or young men spending a great deal of money to purchase handmade "authentic" saggers; the crotch-down-to-your knees style that seems to have infected today's youth...
What about those dressing as the wealthy of our day? Will they wear replicas of Armani suits? Purchase fake bottles of Dom Perignon and pretend to sup it with their peers? Will the women mimic the look of breast and lip implants? (I'm assuming, perhaps in error, that this fad will have faded by then -- or that we will be merely genetically producing people with all of the 'amenities' that we now so barberically cobble together...)
Will folks, hundreds of years from now, be so fascinated with how we lived, made art, did business, etc., that they'll pretend to be us, as we pretended to be Renaissance era folk today? And how successful will they be?
Sometime to ponder; as I ate my "Renaissance" corn dog today....

6.12 Day 7 * One Man's Trash...

"One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure", or so they say. I got my "packrat" gene from my mother, Bertha. So nothing is quite as much fun on a sunny Friday morning than heading out to follow the signs...... I hope there's some sociologist out there who has analyzed what people choose to sell, and how much they want for it - it's an immense study in values. At one sale, the very tools we use in our gardens were priced and marked as "antiques". At yet another, I picked up a 1959 Milton Bradley board game, mint condition, for a quarter.
Despite her 88 years, Bertha still manages to pick up things for "someday". I love that about her.
Which begs the question: whose child is my sister? Bertha and I: piles of stuff all over our houses, scavenged and salvaged treasures, few unutilized surfaces. My sis: no piles of stuff, carpet vacuumed so that the nap stands up straight, hotel-like, grass cut in diagonal stripes.
Bertha and I: Early to bed, early to rise; let's GO!!! My sis: wakes up mid afternoon; sleeps all day, cleans and organizes all night. Bertha and I: "Oh, I've got that tool somewhere....let me look. I probably have a few of them because I don't put them back after I use them". My sis: "Oh, I have that tool. It's in box A-4, Row 17, lower level, in the garage files."
All of which probably contributes to the whole schtick about what people value, what they sell, what they charge, and what they give away. But that's all of no consequence when the day is bright, the signs are up, and the sales are open..."going saling" for us means something different than for many!

6.11 Day 6 * Weeds in My Head; Late Night Musings

Sitting out on Mom's front steps in Robbinsdale. The people across the street appear to have wireless internet, which I am currently PIRATING (Pat would be so proud of my "pirattitude'!) More grades to fix, a principals' meeting that got cancelled, lunch with hubby, a search for a better weed hoe for the garden, a quick trip to the cabin, testing out the weed boe, and crying with one of my high school friends on the phone on I-35...her kitty had been diagnosed with cancer and was going to be put down tomorrow. They were having 'special time' together tonight; as the kitty's breathing is getting more labored - a tumor is pressing against her esophagus. Time to go out and buy another copy of Cat Heaven. Mom has been cautioned by her doctor on her "pre diabetic" state, and is dieting; no mean feat for an 88-year-old who needs a cookie to take a pill, and has to take a lot of pills!
Well, the suburban mosquitos are out tonight, so I guess I'd better sign off. Time to go argue with Mom: The National Enquirer is to news what FOX TV is to.....

6.10 Day 5 * Toe Cleavage

At last - a warmish day!! The slightest hint of summer; like a pinky blush on a green apple. Only Day 2 of sandals this season (I wear 2 pairs of socks from about October through April - Ms. Cold Feet!) So when it's Sandal Time - it's no holds barred, or all toes bared, as the case may be. Bared and decorated. Hey, you only live once! Wait til you see my tattoo...
So much for summer vacation, at least so far. I worked at school all morning, after an early Sustainable Twin Ports meeting. A phone call indicated a problem with grades that had to be fixed; then prep was necessary for the afternoon meeting with the curriculum director. More work on STP this late afternoon: Tracy and Jeff and I have been composing the curriculum for Round 2 of the project; to begin in January of 2010.
Pat and I sat and looked out over Lake Superior tonight at Va Bene', a wonderful Italian bistro on the waterfront. We got our calendars together and did some planning - already June is pretty much in the bag. But the fact that one can go outside without an extra jacket, or wear sandals with no socks, or walk unconfined by the gerbil-Habitrails of paths in the snowbanks...ah, life is good.

6.9 Day 4 * On Waste

10:00 PM: still working on the District kiln inventory; after spending most of the day at school cleaning...
There's a lot to clean out in my NEW art room, to make room for my stuff! I found a gallon of old Elmer's glue that quite literally was brown; with mold inside the container! How many years has it been since anyone cleaned room 242?? So, there are tons of things that are "garbage" and need to be sorted and disposed of.
At the same time, not just this year but EVERY year, there are tons of things that are NOT garbage that need to, in my humble opinion, be SAVED from being disposed!
Already this end-of-year I've made 3 trips to the Goodwill, with items that students or teachers have thrown away. Books. Notebooks. Jackets. Shoes. (With the number of clothing items in the Lost and Found at the end of the year, you'd be convinced that we have a bunch of nude little kids running around...) Fake flower bouquets. Banners. Posters. Vases. Cups. Furniture. A pinata. Freshly made pillows from the Home Ec room - along with bags of poly filling and fabric. Every year I am amazed at the waste, especially since most of what is thrown away is perfectly good and usable. I'm tempted, by the time I end my career, to come up with some sort of "school supply rescue" organization - what if we collected it all, packed it attractively, and SWAPPED IT with some other school's stuff? The kids would still have "NEW" and nothing would go to waste...
I walked to my new school today. 30 minutes walking from my door. This will be great - I can easily walk or ride my bike to work! This is only the second time in 20 years that I will be teaching in ONE building, making it possible to transport myself in a more sustainable way!

6.8 Day 3 * Brr, Brr, More Brr, and Still Working

It didn't FEEL like 'summer vacation' today. First of all; witness the A.M. temperature -- Xena and Sophie were snuggled in tight; and it was as tough as a January morning to get of that warm nest. Plus, Pat still had a day of school. He dropped me off at Woodland Middle School (my new home for next year), where hours slipped by over the sorting of colored paper, the cleaning of shelves, the scouring of student tote bins and more. A colleague called, reminding me of the afternoon architects' meeting - our District is going through a massive construction/reconstruction plan. Another colleague offered to pick me up; fortunate due to the torrential rainfall and the late time.
All in all it was shorter than regular work day; the architects finished up about 3. At least we got our two cents' worth in; for the Art team.
The RAV was ready to pick up at the mechanic's; we made a quick run out. Even the most reliable Toyotas sometimes have issues. The ignition had broken inside.
After a quick trip to the gym and a date at Arby's with my guy, we spent a good chunk of the night watching "The Bachelorette."
Ah sweet fantasy!

6.7 Day 2 * On Roadside Attracts, or; Non-Disney

Ah, the sleep-in. Til all of 7 AM, but that's sleeping in compared to the school year. We'd opted for a quick trip to the cabin over church, despite all there is to be thankful for. There were water jugs and other supplies to haul down, and the riding lawn mower needed to come home for some maintenance.
BRRR!! My hands were numb by the time I finished loading the truck!
It was a tidge warmer, but wet, down at Finlayson. The garden has exploded -- potatoes poked their leaves up through the sand, and the snow peas wove tendrils around one another. Thistles and quackgrass lurked between the rows, like thugs on a dark street, knowing it was probably too cold and too wet for me to go after them.
We UNLOADED the topper, LOADED the ragtop, UNLOADED the water and other goods, LOADED the riding mower, and; as the rain loomed nearer, stood a moment on the dock to enjoy the waves. As Pat peered out with his spyglass, piratelike, over the water, a bald eagle swooped out from the trees mere feet from us, zooming low over the water. I watched as he approached the opposing shore - his body reared up slightly, feet came down and SPLASH - plucked a fish from the water. There's church - right there - yet another amazing thing to be thankful for! Pat caught the action through the spyglass as the eagle landed in a tree lakeside; fish in claw then in beak; then gone.
Wet grass and heavy skies caught up with us as we pulled the gate shut and headed out. On Highway 61, in Rutledge, Pat pulled over to a curiosity we'd driven by thousands of times - since it was the thousand-and-first time, we had to stop! The old gas station was bejeweled in driftwood, antlers, handmade signs, and a full fan of turkey feathers, which the proprietor confirmed were "local," "from a roadkill" and "smoked" - the roadkill turkey, that is, not the feathers. The gentleman told us of his ambitions to make a place off to the north side of the station to create his birdhouses (there were several there already of all sizes). The whole place was surrounded by oddly sculptural things; car chassis (sp?), taxidermied animal components, buckets of flowers - you name it. The shelves inside held everything from engine components to hot dog buns. What a place - reminiscent of some we'd visited along Route 66.
Home, COLD, to the gym, COLD, to the grocery store, COLD. Hunkered down with the kitties and the big warm man.

6.6 Day 1 * I Went on Summer Vacation, and All I Got Was This Stupid Blog...

I've always joked about the proverbial "what I did on my summer vacation" essay - but here it is! Ta da!! Will I be able to do it??
The older you get, the faster the time seems to go. Perhaps by chronicling my 'summer vacation' I'll actually know what happened to it?
There are so many things to catch up on at home, I don't know where to start. ADD is setting in -- doing the laundry leads me to cleaning the basement leads me to... I need to stop and focus. I need a haircut (see photo). I need some warm weather (see my basil seedlings, still under plastic?). I need to lose some more weight. I need help, with everything! Too much to do...