The View from Here

September

I see that in a few days I’ll be able to flip the calendar to one of my favorite months. September is the start of fall and holidays and changing weather. And it was Mom’s birthday month. I think about her all the time. Photos of her are located all over my house. Her butterfly adorns my kitchen window, just as it did hers. But there is something different about September. It will always be her special month.

Mother loved fall. She loved the colors of it and the feel of it, and the relative safety of it. Spring is beautiful, but around here it can also mean devastating storms. Fall changes tend to be a little gentler and kinder.

My husband’s birthday also arrives in September. He’ll be 64 this year. Please, I beg of you, don’t tell him he’s almost ready to retire! I want him to work until he’s at least seventy. He’s in a sedentary job now, so it shouldn’t be all that difficult. Studies show that men who work longer tend to be happier and healthier than those who suddenly retire and stay home. Don’t ask me which studies…I know I’ve read it somewhere. Besides, I know their wives are happier!! J I don’t know how many times I’ve heard a woman say “He’s retired now and driving me crazy!” LOL

I bought some fall clothes in my favorite colors- brown, orange, and olive. I’ve told you before that I hate to shop, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I did my shopping online and bought five shirts, two pairs of pants, and a skirt. Just enough to add to my fall wardrobe from last year. Now I won’t have to buy anything for months and months. Well, maybe another pair of shoes, and yes, I have to go to the store for that. Yuk.

            I stopped by WalMart on my way home and was happy to see that they have chrysanthemums for sale. Another lovely part of fall. I’ll buy a pot or two for the house and some for the flower beds downtown. Time to dress things up for our Heritage Day celebration coming up in October.

            I’ll leave you with another funny from the lips of a child- “Mrs. Maurer, kindergarten is way harder than I thought it would be!” Amen, sweetie, amen…

Blank

           There are times when I feel that I’ve lost my way. Oh, I’m still going about my daily business and I’m still working and functioning, but there is just something missing. Those are the times when I realize I’m not doing anything creative. It’s been months since I’ve written anything worthwhile or painted a picture or even taken a creative photo. I need those activities. I can’t just go through the motions of life. I need to create something new and unique from time to time. I’m searching for a little inspiration and hoping it comes soon.

Another piece that is missing from my life is my garden. This new place is still raw and ugly. I miss the flowers and shrubs and critters of our old house. I miss the soothing predictably of an old garden, the joy of watching for something that has bloomed each year for many years. I guess I need to spend a little more time on this place and be patient.

I always hated “being patient” when I was a kid. That phrase usually meant I wasn’t going to get something I wanted, or I was going to get it long after I’d quit caring. When you live in poverty and you have siblings there is always a “wait”- for attention, for food, for a turn in the bathroom, for a chance to play instead of do chores, for a new dress. The longest wait for me was always for school to begin again.

School was my escape- from the drudgery of field work, from the boredom of some of my chores, from my annoying brothers, from my bossy father. I could be myself at school and I could enjoy the rewards of being a good student. Teachers loved me and I loved them. Is it any wonder I became one?

            I’m still happiest during the school year, but I really do need to claim some personal time. Perhaps I’ve just been a little too involved in community service lately. Easy to do when you care about a place as much as I do. I’m not sure why Caddo is so important to me. Maybe because Mother loved it. I want to preserve the small town that she enjoyed. Or maybe just because I hate to see anything die. Anyway…this blank feeling will go away in time. I’ll just have to be patient.

Time

I know...you thought when I got this new job I'd have more time to blog. Well...I've had three evening meetings this week. Time is still giving me troubles. My mother always said "if you have an empty closet, something will come along to fill it up". Same with time.

I do have a funny story. I've been teaching my students sign language. We started with the basics- toilet, yes, no, cat, dog, letter A. They've all been eager to try their new skills by signing "toilet" during story time and lessons, just to see if I'll respond. But one little boy came up to my desk with an eager expression on his face and told me what he really wanted to learn. "Mrs. Maurer", he said, "will you teach me the sign for 'when is it time for recess'?" I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "No," I replied, "I'm keeping that one a secret."

In other news, I'm sure you've now been informed that baby carrots aren't safe to eat. What next?? I mean, how am I supposed to change my junk food habits when everything that is fresh and healthy is also contaminated??? Did you see the video of workers in China cutting up broccoli? After the whole lead paint fiasco can we really trust them with our food? I'm just going to go eat a corn dog. Why bother caring anymore.

Also found out this week that there is a town in Vermont where clothing is now optional. The city council doesn't feel it has the right to tell people how to dress. Remind me not to drive through THAT town the next time I visit my daughter!

Enough for now. 

Good Week

       Well, for a “first week of school” I had a pretty good week. There were moments when I missed my colleagues at my old school, but I think I made the right decision in leaving when I did. I have a good class and I’ve been  made to feel welcome by my new colleagues. And there’s nothing better than getting home before 6pm!!!

          Had an interesting experience this week. I was driving to work Friday and glanced down at my speedometer. Surprise! It said I was going 100mph!!! Now that’s a bit difficult to do when you are slowing down for the oncoming signal light. Turns out my speedometer has chosen to die. It now permanently registers 120mph. My son says that’s because I own a Ford. Others tell me that it is because my car is a “first year of production” car. I say it’s because I bought a lemon! Already had the suspension fixed, replaced the battery. My fuel gauge doesn’t work. Now my speedometer doesn’t work either. Only have 70,000 miles on the car. L

The weather has cooled a bit this weekend and we got some rain, so I’ve had a chance to put some daisies in the ground. I don’t have a “plan” for my new garden yet, but I’m putting in some basics that always work for me. Every gardener has a list of ten to twenty favorite perennials and annuals. Friends have donated to my barren plot and I now have a little color here and there.

We’re gearing up for Heritage Day. Those of you who read my other blog know that I love any event that brings people to Caddo, and Heritage Day is our biggest annual event. Lots of food, fun, and entertainment. But that also means lots of planning, so several dozen people will start answering lots of phone calls and probably losing a little sleep as preparations begin in earnest.

Nothing else new and exciting. I’ll try to think of something profound one of these days!

Dear Aunt Martha

I’m posting my Aunt Martha’s memories, “From Covered Wagons to Outer Space” on my Stories Too Long site. She writes about coming to Oklahoma in a covered wagon when she was six years old and then follows with some tales of sorrow and joy. I’d forgotten, until I started this project, how much I loved to read her stories. I didn’t have the opportunity to spend much time with her, but she often wrote to me and told me stories about her life. She once took the time to write a thirty-two page letter to me!

My most vivid memories of her are from 1963. Mama and Papa had come from Oklahoma to California for a visit and were getting the grand tour. We went to see the Sequoias and several other tourist places. However, the best part of the trip for me was Aunt Martha’s house in Modesto. I’m sure it was a modest little house now that I view the photos from an adult perspective, but to my teenager’s eyes it was a wonderland. Aunt Martha had flowers and trees and the most beautiful lawn I had ever seen (St. Augustine grass). She lived on the river and there was a winding path down to a small boat dock where they went fishing. They had a patio and picnic table. There was even a bear next door! (A decrepit zoo retiree, but it was exciting to peek over the fence anyway.)

I remember Aunt Martha as a very kind person. She often mentioned people in her letters and was so appreciative of their time and talents. She loved arts and crafts. She had a good sense of humor and was sometimes a risk taker. You’ll have to read more of her adventures in her own words.

Whew!

I’m exhausted already! I don’t think many people realize how much work is entailed in setting up a new classroom, especially an “early childhood” one. My son has remarked several times this week as I’ve carried stuff out the door that 1. I have too much stuff and 2. I need a pickup. A truck would be nice, but, no, I don’t have too much stuff. It takes a lot of toys and games and puzzles and books and other “stuff” to teach children. They don’t retain as much from writing on a piece of paper as they do by handling things and working out problems on their own. Not to belabor the point, but if I give a child five sticks and ask him to take two away and tell me how many are left, the concept is much clearer to him than seeing “5-2=” on a piece of paper.

I’m also tired from trying to catch up with our yard work. We finally got the lawn finished again after doing without a mower for several days. Last night we weeded the hill across from the DQ.

Also finishing up some personal projects and paperwork. Once school starts my time and priorities are different. My class gets most of my time and attention, so the other little pieces of my life have to be adjusted. Usually that means my husband doesn’t get a hot breakfast, the laundry piles up until the weekend, and my computer work is always behind. However, this year I’m “gaining” an hour and a half by working closer to home. That should be very helpful if I don’t waste it.

I’m feeling old fashioned and technologically challenged again this week. I never feel that way until my children are home (my daughters will be happy to know that their brother evokes the same feelings in my poor psyche). The questions and subtle comments start almost immediately: “Two channels? Where are the other ones?” “Why don’t you have a cordless phone?” “What do you mean, you don’t use the dishwasher?” “Your computer is so-o-o slow.” Yes, welcome to the dark ages. I’m selling tickets.

Well, if I don’t get off this computer I won’t have time to finish my room today. I’m trying to get all of the physical things in place so I can start the fun projects like bulletin boards and name tags and welcome cards. Have a great day!

New World

          Gary and I were talking last night about how many things in our little world have changed in the past few months. We've moved, so our routines have changed. Everything from the way we sleep and eat to how we interact with people has changed at least slightly. I now keep a flashlight next to my bed and NEVER get up during the night without it. I can't see the scorpions on the floor in the dark. :) We eat at the table more often just because of where it is located. Our new house is closer to some of our friends and we are able to see them more often.

          We made some more little changes this weekend. Had to buy a new lawnmower because I broke the other one. Ran over a stump. It was very old and had served its purpose. I only hope the new one lasts as long. The new one is lighter, more efficient, starts more easily. Still has to have someone operating it, so I guess my time in the yard won't change much. :) Also had to buy another trimmer. I pulled the starter cord on our "old" (30 days) one and the cord just stayed out- wouldn't recoil. That's the second one we've purchased since April, so I wasn't happy! Traded it in for a different brand. The new one is also heavier and it will take some adjustment time. I gave out quickly last night because I'm just not used to carrying it.

     Bigger changes this week. Gary starts a new job today after driving for the last twelve years. I'll go work on my classroom today and get ready to be the "new teacher" one more time. Our son is moving in with us this afternoon so he can start his new job next week.

     Change. It is supposed to be one of the big "stresses" in our life, but it is also what keeps us alive. Life is fluid, ever changing and moving. We adapt and change and stay flexible in our thinking and in our actions. We learn new technologies and embrace new ideas. We adjust to new people. All a part of the process. I may gripe a bit here and there, but I usually welcome changes. They're part of the joy.

Bridge Tragedy

I don’t like bridges. Never have. Can’t really tell you why. I can climb a mountain, a ladder, or a tree (ok, could in my younger days) without fear, so I don’t think it’s just the height that bothers me. My children will tell you that the second floors of some buildings make me nauseous, but that is usually because I can feel movement, or vibrations through the floor. But give me a balcony, ledge, overhang, or bridge of any kind and something inside me goes crazy. Now this…the terrible bridge collapse in Minneapolis. More reason to fear.

Our driving rule for bridges has always been “both hands on the wheel, eyes straight ahead, don’t talk”. I do know where that idea came from- the sight of a tractor-trailer rig hanging over the side of Lake Texoma’s Roosevelt Bridge when I was a teenager. I’ve traveled thousands of miles all over the country with my husband. He’s teased me about my fear of bridges, but always followed “the rule”. My logic fails in light of yesterday’s tragedy. Even if you stay on the bridge, it might not stay in place.

How can something like this happen? How can something so big and solid collapse? Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention in the last couple of years, but my memory recalls several reports about the poor condition of bridges in my own state and throughout the country. Our bridges and other structures are OLD. I’ve seen some bridges in the East, especially in New York that look as though they were held together by nothing more than sheer determination. Many of them weren’t designed in the first place for the amount of traffic and weight they carry. Our own local truck drivers ignore weight warnings and restrictions on local overpasses and bridges. I’ve seen them do it! 

And bridges are made by human beings. I’m not saying that workers don’t do their best, but people make mistakes. We’re foolish to rely on something just because it is big and impressive. That applies to old bridges and new overpasses and highway structures. 

I remember driving over a “sailboat bridge” to take my children to school when they were little. When I worked in nearby Kingston I drove over Roosevelt Bridge each day. I never crossed over without thinking about what might happen. Now I suppose there are some routes I might not even take if I know ahead of time that I’ll be crossing an old bridge.

I felt sorry for the mayor this morning. While the news media is counting bodies and working on the enormity of the event, he made the point that this is a story about individual people, with families and friends and co-workers. Let’s not be blinded by the body count and forget that.

Let’s also see this as a cautionary tale, not just for those of us who already fear bridges, but for everyone who travels the highways. Our country is old and many of our structures are old. We’d better start taking a much closer look at them.