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 |  Welcome to Whatsit's Wild World. |
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Sometimes I think we're all tightrope walkers suspended on a wire two thousand feet in the air, and so long as we never look down we're okay, but some of us lose momentum and look down for a second and are never quite the same again: we know. ~Dorothy Gilman The Tightrope Walker |
| THE test is this week. THE big test for our students, that is. Remember when I first came to this job, and the principal told me not to teach the fifty states because they didn't need to know it for THE test? This is THE test. THE test actually starts tomorrow. Today we are having a pep rally for THE test. Now, she is stopping people from teaching things like the fifty states, because "they don't need to know it for the test," but a pep rally is supposed to do the job? Um . . . okay. Actually, it's not a pep rally in the traditional sense of the word - all the students are marching around the school twice. The principal has called the police to come stop traffic, because our school is bordered on four sides by four streets, one of them a major thoroughfare. Marching around the school twice? Um . . . okay. All the brouhaha you hear about education not being what it needs to be? Take it from somebody on the front lines . . . it's the truth. It's not the teachers' fault, or at least a lot of it isn't. Between these little airhead children we have, whose parents haven't taught them A from B by the time they get to kindergarten, and principals who say don't teach the fifty states because they don't need to know it, teachers have a serious balancing act. Oh, yes, I know we have the summer and all the holidays. That is the politically correct complaint to make about teachers - we have the summer off, when all we've been doing for ten months is being the highest paid babysitter in town. Ha ha! I dare anybody to come make our children behave and then after that try to teach them something, not to mention having to turn around and fight the principal too, and not need some time off. Not happening, people. Teaching gets old, quick. " . . .my doctor says I have a malformed public duty gland and a natural deficiency in moral fiber . . ." Douglas Adams |
I thought I was going to take a break from blogging, and I did take a short one. I'm back because every time something interesting would happen, I would start thinking of a way to blog about it, then go "Oh, yeah." Here are five of the topmost thoughts in my brain.  At the breakfast table this morning we were discussing things to get my grandmother for Mother's Day. Matt said "How about a hearing aid?" We laughed until we couldn't. The funny thing is that Memaw talked about Papaw for so many years because he got hard of hearing, but wouldn't dream of admitting to it or getting a hearing aid, and now Memaw has gotten the same way. Yesterday at work I was telling my kindergarten class The Three Bears. What I'll do is say something like "Once upon a time there were three . . . camels," and wait on them to correct me. This is good for kindergarteners - recalling details helps their brain some kind of way. So in the process of the story I made the comment that Mama Bear got up and cooked . . . scrambled eggs for breakfast. I sat there a moment and waited on some of them to say "Nooooo, porridge," but all the kindergarteners just sat there and looked at me. I said "Y'all know Mama Bear didn't cook scrambled eggs for breakfast, what did she cook?" Almost as if on cue, about five or six of them yelled out "GRITS!" I am sitting here watching Lawrence Welk. Instead of an inner child, I guess I have an inner old person. One reason I like this show is that one of the cast members is from Mississippi, Guy Hovis. My mother and I used to be slightly acquainted with the lady he married after splitting up from Rolna. My mom and I both thought it was funny that the second wife resembled Rolna so strongly. I guess this is gossip isn't it? As Dorothy Parker used to say, "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me."  Summer is coming soon! Five more days of little worrisome rugrats kids coming to the library. Ten more days of those same little worrisome rugrats kids coming to school. Fourteen more days of teachers coming to school, since we get out on Memorial Day, then come back for four days. I've had my mouth set on a whole summer off ever since I left the juvie jail. Hooray! *doing virtual cartwheels, since real ones would send me to the hospital* In our free week, my assistant and I are supposed to inventory the library. The key words are "supposed to." I feel some serious laziness coming on. Guess what? I came home from my mom's house about an hour ago, brushed my hair out, got comfortable (read: took my shoes and my bra off), and all of a sudden NOW my husband wants me to go out to eat. He can't just go make a sandwich? Men - good grief.  Now you know what I know. Happy Mother's Day to all. |
| Twitter has been in the news lately. Surgeons are Tweeting during surgery. Our news channel tells you where to find them on Twitter. Um . . . guess what, people? I don't know how Twitter works. And don't care! I'm too busy to learn how to do something new. Also, too old to fall for each new bandwagon-y thing that comes along. Especially when it doesn't look like my life will be substantially improved by it. Speaking of going with the latest thing people are doing, let me tell on myself here: it took me several years to decide I wanted to invest in CD technology. I wanted to see if they were hanging around for a while. We had already been through records, 8-tracks, and cassettes. Why should I buy CD's until I see if the next thing is coming along to push them out of the way? A piece of Whatsit trivia: my first car had an 8-track player in it. I had one 8-track cassette: of Olivia Newton-John. This will seem dumb to some people, but let me ask this question. How do they know what cell phone they are turning on or off? Let's say I fail to pay my bill for a couple of months and they turn my service off. How do they know it's Whatsit's phone and nobody else's they are turning off? Are there hundreds of switches on the wall, one of them with the label "Whatsit's cell phone" by it? I keep hoping that Elvis is alive. Don't you think that after he faked his death, he would have come back to his home state of Mississippi? Makes perfect sense to me. I keep expecting to see him in some little country store, eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches and playing checkers with all the other 70somethings. |
| What I've been reading Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. I have to laugh at Holden Caulfield, the main character, every time I read this. Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant by Anne Tyler. I read this in college and have been in love with Anne Tyler's writing ever since. I want to BE Anne Tyler when I grow up. Ruffles and Flourishes by Liz Carpenter. This is kind of interesting - it's about Lady Bird's social secretary. I enjoy reading the memoirs of anybody who has worked at the White House. Dragonsong and Dragonsinger by Anne McCaffrey - another favorite author. I went on a binge at the bookstore and bought a whole bunch of her books. Plans I have a whole folder of ideas on what to do this summer. I have printed a bunch of ideas off the internet. One thing I want to do is go to a museum on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, the Lynn Meadows Discovery Center, which is just for children, so I printed out the hours and price of admission and stuck it in my folder. Another thing I want to do is drive all the way up and down the Natchez Trace. I'm familiar with the southern part of it, but not the part that goes all the way to Nashville, Tennessee. Kids Nobody in the Southeastern United States has a harder head than Matt. He's been working on my last nerve lately. Anna Claire is grounded because she has been being lazy in school. How do you ground a second-grader? No TV or playing outside until the offensive behavior is taken care of. On a positive note, Emily was in the All-State Honor Choir. Good eating Krystal burgers - we had them for supper. Who else has Krystal burgers? They are little square hamburgers with a ton of onions on them. I hadn't had any in ages, probably because one has enough cholesterol to block every artery in Mississippi, and you have to eat several. They ARE delicious. Bad news I got a ticket - two, in fact. My tag was expired, and so was my insurance. I didn't realized either one had lapsed. I do good for months, then I have these moments of failing colossally to pay attention. Actually, I didn't have my seat belt on either, but Mr. Cop was nice enough not to write me a ticket for that. Y'all didn't know what a menace to society you were dealing with did you? |
| My mother and grandmother, along with me and my family, went to Clarke County, Mississippi, yesterday to put flowers on my Papaw's grave. I haven't been over there in probably five years, and lately I had been feeling guilty about it, so when the opportunity arose to go, I jumped at it. The trip takes two hours. When I got there, I remembered why I rarely go to cemeteries where family members are. Nothing is there except the monument. The important thing is the memories we hold. There had been a little church by the cemetary for I don't know how long - almost a hundred years, but I'm not sure of the exact number. My great grandparents attended that church, and the property adjoined my grandparents land. However, nobody had gone to that church in years because all the members, like my great-grands, had died off, so the church had started falling down. My mother had told me that they had torn the church down, but I still wasn't prepared for the sight of the empty lot. It was heartbreaking. Usually I'm fairly no-nonsense about stuff like that. After all, it was just a building. However, anything associated with my childhood, I tend to be sentimental about. My grandmother's old house looks like nobody lives there. After my Papaw died, Memaw couldn't live there anymore and sold it. My Papaw built that house. It looks abandoned, even though people do live there. Papaw had 80 acres, and the house proper is on about five of them, which Papaw kept immaculate, and has now been allowed to run wild. It was kind of disappointing. However, we did get to see some family members who still live over there, so that made the trip worthwhile. They had not seen my kids - or at least, they had seen Emily when she was 15 months old. I guess you can't go home again. Or you can, but only if you lower your expectations. |
| Matt went to the zoo today on a field trip. Big doings! It threatened to rain, but never did. Anna Claire had dance class. Her recital is coming at the end of May. Tonight was our last night for soccer for the season. Emily had two games. The wind blew like bizzem - it's a wonder I have a hair left on my head. Matt found some other little boys who had started a pick-up football game. It was quite entertaining - I had two games to watch. But after the zoo AND football, that was one sleepy little boy. Emily was tired too after two games - I hate it when they schedule two in one night. There was a teenage girl at the soccer field walking around. She had on a shirt with a great big elephant's face on it. It just so happened that the elephant's eyes were right where this girls bezums were. It was extremely peculiar looking. I wondered if she even realized how it looked. Probably so! |
| We had a minor domestic drama today. My little boy is soooo attached to his Teddy. It's a teddy bear that I had when I was little, and it has become Matt's best friend. It's kind of sweet, and of course it tickles me that he likes my old bear better than any of his newer ones. It's not girly one bit, so it suits him. Anyway, I got home and found that one of my dogs, Wimzy, had chewed Teddy's nose off. Matt was as heartbroken as if his real live best friend's face had been disfigured. So, now a trip to the craft store is in order to see if they have any new parts for a bear that needs a nose job. The office staff where I work had a birthday party for the principal - her birthday is Monday, but we will be out for Easter, so they went ahead and had it. I found out later that some of the teachers had not been invited. For what reason, I don't know, except that the ones who did the inviting have a junior-high mentality sometimes. It hurt my heart because they were hurt by it. I wish they would have not invited me instead - it wouldn't have bothered me since I don't like going to social events and making small talk anyway. My little boy's kindergarten class had an Easter Egg hunt today - we sent plastic Easter Eggs stuffed with candy up to the school for this purpose. One of the first-grade teachers at the school I work at said she is planning to dye eggs tomorrow, and that her grandson who is in kindergarten is also doing something Easter-ish. I am impressed at all these Easter celebrations in the public schools. We used to have Easter celebrations at the juvie jail, because it didn't matter down there, but I was under the impression that any religious celebration in the public schools would cause riots and uprisings. I suppose most parents approve, so the teachers sneak around and do it without drawing to much attention to themselves. I think this is splendid. Remember last week when I stood in the background and let my assistant handle a fifth-grade class, and they acted terrible? She had to leave early today to take her children to the doctor, so I had this same class by myself. They wanted to try me, probably because of getting away with murder last week, but I got them settled down. This made me feel smug. It didn't hurt that I said a little prayer ahead of time and asked for help with this class. They are SOOO obnoxious - all the fifth-graders are. But guess what? The school secretary had to come in the library while they were in there - she knows their reputation. She looked around in amazement and commented on how quiet they were. I almost died of smugness. Okay, I'm through bragging on myself now. Did I mention how quiet my fifth-graders were today? I bought two great big bottles of Mr. Bubble the other day. My two girls are in the tub now. My little boy is about to get in. Then guess who is going to sneak around and get a bubble bath? We're going to watch Scooby-Doo, then it's bedtime, and then bubble time for Mama. Hooray! |
| I've gone back to the juvie jail. Mentally, that is. A little boy in fourth grade went there with me, being a smart a**. In an instant, my mind went back to my old job, and I told him off. He shut up and did his work. I hate doing that. The whole reason I quit that place was because I hate being that way. Some people that work down there get their jollies from it yelling at kids. I'm not one of them. I wanted to come work with "regular" children so I could go back to being a "regular" person, because I was carrying that toughness around with me, even in my personal life. It's hard to be a certain way all day at work, then flip a switch on the drive home. I knew my personal kids needed a different mom than I was being. I know good and well this child deserved what he got from me. He's had it coming a long time. That doesn't make it any easier. |
“Golf is a game in which you yell "Fore!", shoot six, and write down five” “If there is a 50-50 chance that something can go wrong, then 9 times out of ten it will.” “In times like these, it helps to recall that there have always been times like these.” “I've never seen a monument erected to a pessimist.” “Like what you do, if you don't like it, do something else.” “If 'pro' is the opposite of 'con' what is the opposite of 'progress'?” “In times like these, it is helpful to remember that there have always been times like these” “Retiring is just practicing up to be dead. That doesn't take any practice.” Does anybody besides me miss Paul Harvey? All of the above quotes are by him. Ever since I learned to drive, if I was in my car at 7:30 AM, noon, or 6 PM, I would turn the radio to whatever channel he was on. In college, I would sit in my car and finish listening to the 7:30 broadcast before getting out and going to class. I especially liked the 6:00 one - The Rest of the Story. Sometimes I would get to feel smart by guessing what it was about before he got to the surprise ending. We lost a class act when we lost Paul Harvey. September 4, 1918 - February 28, 2009 |
| Sam took the kids with him to a church event, and I actually got out it. I have cleaned up the house all day, and I was tired, so that got me out of having to go. Whenever the other members of my family are off doing something, I have this bad habit of taking off to do something to suit myself. That is my Sanity Preservation Strategy Number One. Tonight, although I WAS physically tired, my reluctance to go was more of a not wanting to be around a crowd of people. The thought of having to make conversations was more than I could emotionally handle. Although I didn't saythat out loud - even making an explanation was too much trouble. Especially to my extrovert husband who thrives on being around people. Tonight I went to Chick-Fil-A for a chicken sandwich before going to the bookstore. At Chick-fil-A I went through the drive-through. Now, there's something about the Chick-Fil-A employees that gets me. Every one of them does it - it must be part of their training. They always want to know if I need any "condiments." Who in the world says "condiments" in natural conversation? For some reason, even though this is a tiny thing, it kills me for them to say this. It just sounds so phony for them to say "Would you care for any condiments? " Tonight I was feeling giddy from just having recovered from being sick, as well as getting rid of my family. Plus I have a naughty streak. I responded "No, I practice safe chicken sandwich eating." Which was the stupidest thing anybody in the world could have said. I mean, my little dumb dog could have thought up a better comeback than that. But the woman almost fell out of the drive-through window laughing. It gave me the big-head that she thought it was so funny. Because as soon as it came out of my mouth, I got embarrassed at myself. I couldn't think of anything better to say than that? I must be getting old - I get cornier by the year. Oh, and who elseo does this? I got home before Sam did. So, naturally, I took my books and put them on the shelf right quick where he wouldn't notice that I had bought anything. Not that he would say anything about it - well, he may and he may not - but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? Some things are for me to know and for him not to find out. I have done this with clothes too - just slid them in the closet. Even when I put them on, he doesn't tend to notice because I buy such nondescript clothing. I just wondered how other people handle the not-wanting-the-spouse-to-see-what-they-bought thing. |
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Well, it is the time of miracles I guess.