The Eve of Christmas

 It's a happy time for us, visiting two out of the thirteen original colonies for some generational mixing and mingling. 

As happy as I am right now, there are others who are probably even more cheerful this holiday season.  Most notably, New Yorker Kevin Depaolo and the Moore Family of Tennessee.  Kevin, crushed by a 10,000 pound boulder, was rescued after ten hours and survived with all his limbs intact.   Four month old baby Moore was sucked up by a tornado earlier this month and found just fine in a fallen tree when the storm passed. 

Glad tidings indeed.  Can't stop thinking about these stories. Both occurred in this final month of the year. 

The Holidays

Thomas Dambo is an artist who makes trolls out of recycled materials.  My goal in the time I have left on this earth is to visit every damn Dambo troll this side of the Merrimack.  

Or I might have another goal.  I haven't decided yet. 

We're visiting my dad at 90Cab.  My dad's doing a lot of sleeping.  I've put Saving Private Ryan on the TV to lure him into a conversation.  He's obsessed with WWII movies.  He wakes now and again, and makes a relevant remark.  My brother reports he stays up all night and sleeps all day. Doesn't make a lick of sense.

Gear Up.  Fall in. Tom Hanks says that every man he kills... the farther away from home he feels.  

I get it. 

The Turkeys 2023

Good Friends... Here are the turkeys of 2023.  Inspired by Go Dog Go, we made turkey beach party hats.  

We are missing #1 Son and Ms. Shea.  

But rest assured, their turkeys were outstanding.  

Do you like our hats? 

We had so much fun making them.  

g

 

The Loves

I like the mini love stories the NYT puts out.  They're written by regular folk.  Less than 100 words.  Today's story was written by someone who was married to a cowboy for many decades.  I wrote this haiku about the photo she sent in with her piece:

cowboy fixing tack

horse patiently waits and wonders

about tack's importance 

I'm also a regular reader of the NYT Modern Love column.  I love the stories and the accompanying illustrations by Brian Rea.  These columns are also written by regular folk.  This week's story was by a man who didn't want his girlfriend to bring expensive cheese to a dinner party.  She broke up with him soon thereafter. I wrote this haiku about his situation.

why so controlling?  

Does cheese really matter that much?

lonely days ahead now

Then I decided to write a haiku love story about our recent weekend with our grown children. 

Rosalyn and Quinn

their giant autumn foliage 

fill up 706

It's not the best haiku but why should I worry about that?  I think it clearly communicates that these 2 people have a significant impact on our lives.  It also refers to the season which is a hallmark of traditional haiku.

Now it's time for a vacation. Glorious.  It's fun to gallivant about with nary a care in the world. 

The Blow Up

 

Halloween on a Tuesday should be a federal crime. 3rdLand experienced a significant decrease in learning levels for 5 days straight. By the time the bell rang for dismissal each day, I felt wrung out like an old kitchen sponge. My energy reserves were so depleted I worried that I might not be able to drive the mile back to my house. 

 I like Halloween as a citizen, but as a teacher I do not care for it. Because of this year's unfortunate timing, my fatigue built up and by Friday I had a sore throat.  On Saturday I couldn't move off the sofa.  As I languished, I caught up on Golden Bachelor and watched movies.  Flora and Son was good.  Appropriate Behavior even better.  Midnight Run and Blue Jay are older classics.  See any of these films if you want to.

Most 3rdLanders had a plethora of fun stories, but come to find out, the kids with the blow up costumes had some sadness.  A dinosaur inflatable worn by one third lander deflated halfway through trick or treating.  He carried on in his own attire, a pain to explain to the candy givers. Another 3rdlander skipped Halloween altogether when his Sponge Bob inflatable went bust 20 minutes before T-or-T departure time.  His parent dashed back to the shop but was denied an exchange. Annoyed beyond all get out, this kid opted for staying home. As we all know, some losses are so devastating that recovery is impossible. You may want to boycott that store next year.  At the very least, save all packaging and receipts.  Overall, I do not recommend the blow up costumes. Too much heartache.

On Wednesday a kid came to school wearing a Xmas sweatshirt. Charlie Brown. Tiny Piano. Pathetic tree with red ornament. That one sweatshirt led to an extended, wild mashup of Halloween recollection with fervent Christmas plans. 

We're in holiday hoedown mode and I need to figure out how to stay healthy. It's not going to be a super season of holiday cheer if I end up in a coffin by New Year's.

   

The Bowl

 Husbandman and I walked around the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center this morning. We also visited the gift shop in search of a singing bowl. There were many. 

I wasn't surprised that Husbandman was a natural with the singing bowls, while I bumbled and bungled along.  Bottom line: he's musical I'm not. The gift shop man stood near me redirecting and advising me as I misplayed the various bowls while Husbandman's bowl sang out vibrations throughout the store.  

I bought a bowl anyway because I've always wanted one and I'm pretty sure I can pick up better singing bowl technique at some point in the future. 

 You may remember I recently wrote about my love for my Deagan dinner chimes.  Come to find out, I also love my Tibetan singing bowl.

The Connection

 Our birthday week wrapped up yesterday.  I'm now 9 x 7 and Husbandman is 8 X 8.  We celebrated at restaurants, exchanged cool gifts, and felt all the love of fam and friends.  

As a celebratory birthday extension, we ventured out to an apple orchard early yesterday morning. We walked among the apple trees, split an apple dumpling with ice cream and listened to music.  We joined the hordes of foliage mongers soaking up autumnal beauty. We didn't buy apple cider and that's a regret.  

Later that same day, we attended a screening of Killers of the Flower Moon.  Excellent. You should see it if you feel like it.  It's one of those movies that propels me to the internets to gather facts and opinions about our horrific history. 

My personal connection with the film is a fascinating tale and I will share it thusly. 

In the fall of 2022, while visiting kin in Seattle, Washington, I unexpectedly discovered, and fell in love with, the melodic harmonics of Deagen's historic chimes and longed to have my own.  Unbeknownst to me, #30Something, aware of my obsessive desire, surreptitiously endeavored to procure a Deagan oeuvre.  Late in 2022, after extensive searching, she found, and purchased, authentic Deagan chimes and gifted these to me at our annual holiday gift exchange.  Come to find out, the seller of the chimes had enclosed a note that these very chimes (which I now own) were used as a prop in Scorcese's film, Killers of the Flower Moon!  As you know, we viewed the film on October 21, 2023 at a private screening.  While we did not see the chimes, we firmly believe that they were probably on the table of sound effect props featured toward the movie's end.  (No spoilers, but great scene).  Alas, the chimes were not played, but this is still a cool story.  I ring the chimes each day and they never fail to bring me joy. 

Birthday Week:  Solid 5 on the Fist of 5. 

The Lineage

 I'm back from a trip down south to visit my dad.  We sat in big chairs watching television and gabbing.  Dad held Karl with a K on his lap.  I held multiple plates of fritos. We watched The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara.  We talked about movie stars and reviewed Dad's genealogy research. 

Here's a sad story I haven't shared before.  My nana was born Emma Josselin. The Josselin line stretches back to the Massachusetts Bay Colony.  I'm sad to report that some of my ancestors were killed by Native Americans with hatchets in the 1690's. 

I wonder what my family members could have done to tick off their Native American neighbors?  

Let's face it.  It's not hard to put the pieces of this puzzle together. I wish I didn't come from LAND STEALERS, but I have to face the hard truth of my heritage. It is what it is. 

The Festivals

Catching up after a busy couple of weeks in B-town.  Last weekend Good Friend CB came for a visit.  Hoorah!!! 

I took a day off work and we bopped around stellar exhibits on campus.  Ceramics, Photography, Victorian Book Publishing. We saw it all.

On our second day, we drove over to Stinesville Quarry Festival. I'm sad to tell you that I've never spent time in this charming neighboring town, population 203.

Highlight of the festival was the pie auction.  The auctioneers skillfully drove up the bidding and the apple caramel pie went for 200$.  Two water pies ("poor man's sugar pies") went for about 25$ each. Generous when you get the backstory on water pie.   Originating in the Great Depression, water pie is made with water and a few other ingredients.  I'm wondering why someone would enter a pie contest with a water pie, but Stinesville is a land of mystery.

Both nights we zipped around town for Lotus Festival.  Another great festival, full of unexpected pleasures.  Check out San Salvador from France some time if you feel like listening to topnotch Occitan polyphony.  

Our time together was delightful.  Fall's off to a great start. 

The Festival

 Autumnal Greetings, One and All.  Today, we bring news of the Monroe County Fall Festival in Ellettsville. 

We were there at noon to watch the parade, featuring Ellettsville Elite.  The grand marshall was a man who owns a small business that sells signs, vehicle graphics and window tinting.  Other paraders included school communities, church folk, tractor drivers, young cloggers, equestrians, parade princesses, and firepeople in sky blue trucks. 

 Missing from the parade:  floats. 

Don't want to be overly critical, but floats are parade essentials.  I recommend a careful reading of How to Organize a Parade when organizing for next year.  This website clearly states:

One exciting element to consider for your parade is the inclusion of floats.

We're not mad at you, Ellettsville, but next year we sure would love to see some floats. Think it over.

On the good side, the paraders threw out gobs of candy.  We stood near a mom whose kids had a whole bag full.  I joked that the mom could use the parade candy for Halloween handouts next month. Mom told me that she was planning exactly that.  Doy. Way to state the obvious, leeway. 

 I nabbed a couple of Double Bubbles. Husbandman scored a mini-3Musketeers. 

After the parade we moseyed over to the festival booths.  We watched some young cloggers and HM ate a pulled pork sandwich.  

It's official.  Fall is here. 

 

The Apple Butter Festival

 We're back from the Apple Butter Festival in Spencer.  Surprisingly little mention of apple butter (ab) there.  We did find one booth selling ab so we bought a jar.  I'm hoping Husbandman can make some biscuits tomorrow so we can partake of this historic delicacy. Come to find out, ab has been around since the Middle Ages.  

The Summer Sorrows

Praying Mantis on the Playground

Nature Art created by 3rdLander

Nature Art created by another 3rdLander

 These are our last days of summer.  3 more weeks of hell.  Hate to pule like a cry baby complainer, but summer is not my favorite season.  6 reasons why summer is bad:

1. ever present sensation that my skin is burning off my bones whenever I risk a trip outside.

 2. disgusting slathering of sticky, smelly sunscreen on my exposed skin that sometimes gets in my eyes causing intense stinging when mixed with sweat.

3. unflattering summer attire, such as shorts and tee shirts. Not a good look for anyone, especially me.

4. irritating sound of bugs buzzing next to my ears as I take the occasional rare walk through shaded forests. 

5.  desperate panicky anxiety about being trapped inside air conditioned spaces (due to bugs, burning bones, sunscreen, etc.). 

6.  overwhelming fear and sadness about my contribution to climate change with excessive use of air conditioning.

Not a comprehensive list.  I haven't included comments about the various summer dangers we all face, such as fires and skin cancer, but I will point out one critical issue with ye olde barbecue grille. We aren't grillers, so we don't have to worry about swallowing wire grill brush bristles, but lots of people are, and do.  Stray wire bristles lodge in the digestive tract and make life uncomfortable for thousands every year.  Stop grilling immediately if you don't want to spend your last days of summer in the ER.  Look for alternatives to the wire bristle grill brushes.  Maybe try grill floss.

To be fair and balanced, I'll now focus on the few things I like about summer:  

A.  I love the summer blockbusters on the big screen. I saw Equalizer 3 last weekend.  Best movie ever. I might see it again before it leaves the theaters and you should too it if you feel like it.  Mission Impossible was also fun.

B. I love to swim.  I'm also quite good at it.  I swam competitively in high school and set records in the state of California on consecutive years. Look it up if you don't believe me. Unfortunately, I only swam a few times this summer because of the heat and the sunscreen issues mentioned above.  

To wrap this up, here's a summer haiku:

Oh summer sorceress!

 My garden cries for water

Why do you burn us alive? 

And ending on a good note:  The temperature dropped yesterday.  Husbandman and I traveled to the zoo.  I wore leggings.  We brought a picnic lunch and ate on a bench near the Kangaroo Crossing.  My mood was calm and cheerful.

Also, just FYI:  There's an International Chimpanzee Complex coming our way in 2024.  Stay tuned. 

Also, just FYI:  #1 Son's new album has been getting some great attention.  His release of Walking On Eggshells is by far the best thing that happened this summer. 

Unbound

Have I told you that #1 Son lives in Asheville NC now?

We read a book about Judith Scott called Unbound in 3rdLand this week.  I had never heard of her before, but now I'm a wee bit obsessed.  She could neither hear nor speak.  She had Down Syndrome.  She was institutionalized for 35 years, separated from her twin. When she moved to California  to live near her twin at last, she spent her days at the Creative Growth Art Center.  Drawn to fiber arts, she created non stop for the next 20 years. Her work became famous and is in museums all over the world. And now for the good part.... There's a Judith Scott exhibit.  In Baltimore. Right NOW.  If you feel like it, you should go to Baltimore to see this exhibit. 

 I am still mad at Oakland because of this summer's smashing and grabbing, but I have to give that city a big fat 5 on the Fist to 5 for being home to 50 years of Creative Growth at the CGArt Center.  

The SEL

We have a Social Emotional Learning (SEL) curriculum in our district. Every week, I pull out a big card with a photo on it and then I read a text on the back.  At first I rejected this whole deal. Scripted Curriculum?  I think not. 

At first, I only used the cards sporadically, but come to find out, the 3rdLanders are interested in the scenarios and like talking about stuff like empathy, friendship, and the complexities of emotions. Now I read a card a week during afternoon meetings.  The end of the day is never pleasant because we all want to get the heck out of there, but we end up having some good chats with the SEL cards.

Last week's card focused on Positive Self Talk (PST), a favorite strategy of mine. Whenever life gets overwhelming, and I feel like a parasitic gremlin is pinching my stomach lining, I take a breath.  Then I deliver a rational, caring inner monologue to get my head back in the game.  I highly endorsed PST to the 3rdLanders.  I even wrote on the board: "Use positive self talk" as something we should talk more about. 

Later that week, we got our chance.  As you know, moving kids quietly through hallways is one of my least favorite parts of the teaching gig.  On Thursday morning, the 3rdLanders got ready for Gym by forming a boisterous non-line at the classroom door. I rang our pleasantly sonorous chimes with little effect.

At last I got their attention after it dawned on them that they weren't going anywhere. I suggested that we all take a couple of deep breaths and use PST to figure out what we needed in this moment.  "Maybe you'll tell yourself something like, 'This is my Gym time and I love Gym. I'm going to stop shouting and jumping and grabbing people's bodies so I can get to Gym and have fun." I could see from their faces and their bodies that they were engaged in some serious PST.  Off we went.  

In short, our SEL curriculum helped us all out this week.  The right wingers hate SEL, but as usual, they are wrong. 

 

The Caterpillars

 We have finished 3 weeks in 3rdLand.  I'm still feeling more tired than I think is appropriate, but maybe my energy will return in time.

On the good side, I have rescued 2 monarch caterpillars and Nancer and I are raising them. As citizen scientists, we are committed to teaching our students how to be good stewards of the earth.  The 3rdLanders voted to name our caterpillar BOB.  I was against this, but ... democracy.  There's one 3rdLander who has bug phobia so when he first saw Bob's habitat, he curled up in a fetal position on the floor and expressed his fears with plaintive cries.  We talked it out and he seems fine now.  Keeps his distance.

We also continue living with a haiku spirit, noticing and caring about nature.  This week we cut construction paper frames and went out to the garden to zoom in on whatever captured our visions. We did this with our first grade buddies.  First graders are adorable and I am fascinated by them.  But I also love teaching 3rdLanders because you can tell them to go do a thing with their buddy and they go off and do it.

Foto Credit: Nancer

I can't take credit for the paper frame idea.  We read about it in a picture book about Sister Corita Kent, who was called the "Pop Art Nun."  Cool gal. Believed creativity is our life path. 

On an unrelated note, I learned today about mammals that lived at the same time as the dinosaurs. There were some small ratty types doing just fine during the Jurassic Period.  

The Re-entry

Friends,

We're back in 3rdLand.  24 Kiddos, the standard amount, and yet, 24 feels like a teeming mass at this point in time.   I'm feeling like Fred Flintstone in his pre-historic car.  Legs moving frenetically.  Car standing stock still.  

I have been trying to write here and there, to no avail.  

2 weeks ago I started this snippet of a blog entry...

 There's a new exhibit at our History Center called Breaking the News.  It's about the history of our local papers.  It's a fine exhibit.  I was surprised to see a copy of our first newspaper, The Gazette from 1824.  We had about 500 people in Bloomington back then and we had a newspaper?  My sense of newspaper history is faulty, I have to just admit that right here and now.  Learn more at the MCHC if you feel like it.

Then, one week ago I started research to accompany this photo of tussock moth caterpillars. The research was fascinating but never resulted in a post.

As you can see, my writer identity has suffered because of my teacher job.  I don't know the 3rdLanders well yet, but they seem like a pretty good group.  Maybe I'll climb out of this handbasket of hell sooner rather than later. Please hang in there, both of you dear Readers.  I'll be back.  

The Haiga

Last few fab days of vacay.  In a week we'll be back in action, learning about, and with, a new group of 3rdLanders. Can't wait to meet 'em. I hope they have pleasant personalities. 

We usually start the year learning about Kobayashi Issa, the great haiku poet.  We follow up with a haiku hike around our playground.  After the hike, we write haiku and add watercolor imagery.  Voila.  Morning #1.

I just learned today that the combination of haiku with imagery is called haiga.  Haiga has been around for centuries.  During the EDO period (1603 - 1867), people who felt like it would create haiga for fun, sometimes at gatherings.  Haiga writers of today may use photography or collage with their haiku, rather than watercolor.  See above.

The Dans

The DANS ARE HERE! Brother Dan drove Father Dan to our fine town and we’re having a grand old time. A big outing for Dad is a drive to a medical appointment, so I’m trying to balance some fun field trips with restful down time.  Dad’s 94. He does not move easily nor well. He basically can’t move at all without a lot of assistance.

Yesterday we walked and wheeled at Switchyard Park.  I read all the plaques aloud to the Dans as they listened attentively.  My dad loves history.  We discovered that the first ever color television was made right here in B-town.

Today we drove to our largest state park, Brown County.  We walked and rolled along the Friends Trail, short and shady. Our stop at the Nature Center was a bust.  Even though it was 10:40 and they should have been opened, they were not. I took a photo of the Dans in front of the nature center in order to get fb credit. No one will know the difference.  We stopped for lunch and then headed home for naps.

Tomorrow’s the last day of the visit and I’m thinking of a campus walk followed by lunch on Kirkwood.  Dan2 commented they are fine with a “do nothing day.”  He might be trying to tell me something but I’m not sure.  As usual, I will err on the side of fun.

The S&G

 

I have a new laptop because I have been the victim of theft.  Husbandman and I did a quick drop in to an urban center out west to see #30something and Mr. HL over the weekend. We were there for about an hour when we were smashed and grabbed.  The Smash and Grab (S&G) involves thieves smashing a barrier like the back window of a rental car and then grabbing valuable stuff like laptops.  

If S&G happens to you, don't panic. You can get a new rental car. With "2 to 3 S&G's daily," the rental car agency won't bat an eye.  A nearby pharmacy will replace your medications.  Friends from home will ship out a second copy of your key for your car, parked at the IND airport. A trip to the post office will get you forms for replacing your passport.  Your insurance company may throw some cash your way if you've filed an on-line police report.

2 million laptops are stolen each year in the US. S&G looters use blue tooth detection devices to find laptops in vehicles, so try to remember to put your device on airplane mode even if it's in your trunk.  Less than 2% of stolen laptops are recovered, so don't be a hero with your Find My Laptop apps. You're wasting valuable time with that nonsense.  If you can't help yourself, local pawn shops might be a good place to start your search. Good luck.

If an S&G disrupts your trip, take heart. You can still have a good vacation, full of windy walks at the beach, incredible meals, victorious major league baseball games and non-stop conversations with people you love. Your anger about the S&G won't disappear, but with effort, you can move on and live life to the fullest. In short, don't let the S&G steal your joy.

The Spirit

 Alittleleeway here, reporting again from Montreal.  Check out these two historic buildings which are the focus of today's blog post.

In the foreground, you see the Mary, Queen of the World, Cathedral.  For some reason, it has been designated as a minor basilica, though to my mind, there's nothing minor about the place. In the background, you see The Queen Elizabeth Hotel.  

In the mortuary chapel of the church, you will see the horizontal bronze statue of Ignace Bourget, Bishop of Montreal in the mid 1800's.  (This brother had his hand in everything).   There's a live gentleman in this chapel eager to answer questions. I wasn't in the mood for conversation, so I just wandered through the church at my leisure, snapping photos. Case in Point:

But what about the Queen Elizabeth Hotel? In 1969, John and Yoko held their second bed-in for peace right here!  Along with friends, they recorded the classic anti-war anthem, Give Peace a Chance, while still in their jammies.  I went to this shrine searching for a plaque of remembrance, but the doorman told me the plaque had been removed. As you probably know, I love a plaque.  The doorman could see my disappointment and quickly directed me to check out a photo near the elevators with information about the suite, which you can now see here:

I was disappointed with the hotel's desecration of this universal Site of Conscience, where peace loving people fought to end the Vietnam War. The "renovated" Bed In Suite (1742) can only be visited by hotel guests, for 3500$ per night.  

Queen Elizabeth Hotel needs to buy a clue from the Cathedral across the street.  Open the doors to Suite 1742 and let us all soak up the lingering spirits of Sts. John & Yoko. 

Montreal should install a skyway from the Queen of the World Cathedral to the 17th floor of the Queen Elizabeth. STAT.  Suite 1742 belongs to the Peace Loving Citizens of Montreal and the world.  

Give Peace a Chance, why don't you? Also don't forget:  War is over, if you want it.