Autumn beauty

Last week, driving along the highway, I noticed that the trees had turned. The change always seems to happen suddenly. One day they're green, and the next they've become yellow, burgundy, and burnt orange. Very soft colors, not the flamboyant foliages of my northern childhoods. The temperature has been perfect too; cool in the morning, up to 70 at the peak. The moon is full tonight, and was beginning to glow as I drove home at 5 o'clock. There's no school tomorrow because of Veteran's Day. I will spend most of the day grading.

At the school's Veteran's Day assembly this morning, I thought of Dad, of course. While the school band played patriotic songs, and the school color guard performed, I couldn't help but remember the photos of young, handsome Dad smiling in his Army uniform circa 1945. He was a mere boy, younger than my own youngest son, when he was drafted out of college and shipped over to Italy to fight a world war. The very thought of shipping a son off to a major war is heartwrenching, yet millions of mothers across the world and over the centuries have done just that, including my grandmother who sent two sons off to World War II. How she could bear the fear and uncertainty, I have no idea. She was one of the lucky mothers; they both survived. I remember Dad's stories of how the Italian natives---just as effusive and vivacious as Hispanics are, no doubt---would come running out to greet the American soldiers with shouts of joy and flowers. I also remember Dad's stories about patrolling at night. If I remember this right, some unique tribe of Eastern Indians was working with the Allies. They were extremely tall, wore turbans, and were very violent. Each night, the American solders were informed of a secret password they would need to utter if they ever encountered one of these Indians at night, so the latter wouldn't mistake them for the enemy. The password one night was "Gravel Gertie," recalled Dad. He did indeed cross paths with one of those Indians--wish I could remember the specific name of the tribe. I'll have to research that. Now it was time to say the password before the tall guy pulled out his knife and asked questions later. Dad remembered how his teeth and jaw chattered as he spat out "G-g-g-g-g-ravel G-g-g-gertie!"

After the war, after marrying my mother, he went to medical school on the G.I. bill. He apparently had to be affiliated with the Army for awhile even after finishing at McGill. When I was three, we moved to Tacoma, Washington, and lived on what I think was a military base. I remember a photo of the front door, with the sign "First Lt. Agnew" painted on it. I remember other men in Army uniforms. He must have been affiliated in some medical way, or have been receiving medical experience. Photos show my mother and groups of other mothers sitting on the lawns together with all the children nearby. I even remember the inside of that teeny little house, connected to all the other teeny houses in a giant square, with a courtyard of sorts in the back. I remember riding my tricycle on the sidewalk in the back.

Yep, Dad was with me today during that Assembly.

Moving on to other subjects. . . how about Obama's victory? How happy we are that he won! We're overjoyed! This country needs a fresh leader with guts and VISION who is not afraid to throw off the yoke of tired Republican policies of the past eight years and forge ahead with plans for healing. Today I showed the classes a United Streaming film about the Great Depression, which is the setting for To Kill a Mockingbird. It was chilling to be reminded of the similarities between the Great Depression and the current economic crisis: both events were preceded by prosperity, stock market climbs, a strong housing market, widespread over-spending and over-extension, hands-off government approach to regulation, and support for big business, then BOOM! Stock market crash, job loss, foreclosures, and bank failures and the huge ripple effect that destroyed the economy. When the film described Hoover's laissez faire approach to the economic problems and his idea of bringing about recovery by giving money to businesses, not individuals, it reminded me big-time of Bush and the current Congress. (Yes, of course, let's bail out AIG, whose CEO's get bonuses higher than the total income of Georgia. Here's an idea that's been going around the internet: take the bail-out package, divide it up among the population of America, and send each citizen a check. Someone calculated that it would come to $200,000 each. Now there's a stimulus package!) The film described the election of dynamic FDR, who took charge right away and came up with program after program after program to assuage the pain of the Depression. Obama is the new FDR.
While shopping this weekend, we saw his smiling face, along with Michelle's, on just about every magazine cover on the rack. It fills me with joy.

Casting my ballot

I got back from the polls at 6:10. Chatham County was offering early voting until 5 p.m. at the Eisenhower Tag Office. The line stretched out the door, twisted down the street and around the corner, but I decided to stick it out. On Tuesday, it will be worse. Of course I voted for Obama. I could talk all day about how annoying it is to hear the Republicans latching onto the word "redistribution!" as a scare tactic, and it's even more annoying to think that people take the bait. The weasel word itself is supposed to connote Communism, which our culture is conditioned to recoil from. But hasn't our country always supported redistribution of wealth--it's called taxes? A panelist on Larry King was arguing that the wealthy should be rewarded for their hard work and should not be punished through higher taxes. But wait a minute, last time I looked, I too work like a dog, up at 5:45, home at 5 or 5:30 every night, grading round the clock. Liberto works long hours too. Why is our work less deserving than Donald Trump's? But I shouldn't get started on a vent about how wrong-headed I think the Republican position is. I just hope Obama wins. The economy is spiraling out of control, and if it takes some intervention from the government, so be it. Son number two lost his job very suddenly a few weeks ago. Although we've wired him some survival money, we can't afford to take on his $700 a month apartment lease and other ongoing expenses. He texted me that he hopes to collect unemploymenet benefits in about 3 weeks, but has mostly stayed out of touch.

We went to buy a new car battery last weekend. When the woman said, "That'll be $115" I told her that I could have sworn the other new battery we bought a few months ago for Paul was about $80, and she said, yes, but they'd suddenly gone up, no surprise.

Liberto's colonoscopy last Wednesday revealed nothing, which was very frustrating to him because he continues to have some pain in a certain section. He has another appointment with the doctor on Nov. 20, to see what they'll do next. When I met with the doctor after the procedure, he theorized that maybe it's a back problem and that the pain is radiating around to the front.

I have a head cold, which started Tuesday with lots of sneezing, then a dripping nose Wednesday, and total stuffiness Thursday and Friday, but not sick enough to skip work. I had the day off Wednesday anyway to stay with Liberto. I graded for hours while I waited in the waiting room and got a lot done. The students reported that the sub was very mean and rude and that they hated her! I've met her before and she is a kind of no-nonsense, children-should-be-seen-and-not-heard type of person.

My feet and legs are throbbing after standing all day at work and then standing in line at the polls. It's so nice to be in an easy chair. I'm still very stuffed up, but still enjoyed the Chinese food and little pony of beer for dinner. It's almost 8 o'clock, and no trick-or-treaters yet. Maybe the porch light is off, but I'm too tired to get up and turn it on.

Richmond Hill students

This past week was Homecoming week. Each day was a different theme, such as Superhero Costume Day or School Spirit Day. Naturally, the students were as hyped up as Mexican Jumping Beans. So this was the week to cut them a little slack.
I love to take photos, so I've been taking them regularly since the school year started. In fact, I recently sent a bunch to the school's Yearbook Advisor since 9th graders are usually left out of the yearbook.



Overall, my students are very nice and easy to love. None are mean-spirited; the disruptive ones are seeking attention from peers or haven't learned to contain those intense hormones.



I was telling a friend recently that one very positive characteristic of high school students is that they are almost always smiling or laughing. Look around the classroom, look around an entire high school, and the laughter and squeals of joy fill the air.

Friday downpour

Friday: The week flew by. Liberto got back last Saturday night, right on time. I'd taken all day Saturday off from grading papers---too tired to do it even if I'd wanted to---so I did have to spend some time working on Sunday, but we still managed to hang out and enjoy each other's company. He was back to work on Monday, working long hours and going to several doctors' appointments this week for whatever is ailing his intestines. He seems to have a combination of problems, one of which is the old kidney-stones issue that he's had for over 20 years, added to inflammation of a section of the colon. He has very specific pain in one area. Next Wednesday, he's having another colonoscopy, as a follow-up to an MRI, which didn't show anything. Although you're only supposed to have colonoscopies every 10 years and he's had one in the last five, the pain is cause for further examination. I'll be taking my first day off from school to go with him.

Heavy rain today! I used the beautiful, colorful, frog-themed umbrella from my dear friend Sharon, and was so proud to inflate it to show off to everyone, as I walked into school this morning. It was raining heavily early this morning and still is now. I had to drive Paul's car to work because my car's battery is dead. Another errand to do this weekend, buy a new battery.

My two sets of wind chimes are swinging and ringing like crazy outside, as the rain swirls down, and the wind gusts. I can see the chimes through the window, hanging from a thick branch of the lemon tree. The set that rings the loudest was ordered from my darling grandson in Virginia, who was getting points at school for sales from a website store, and the other was purchased from a neighborhood child, also selling door to door for her school. Even before I bought these chimes, I had already ordered one from the child of a teacher at school, but it hasn't come in yet. Soon, I'll have a third set swinging from the tree branch.

I can already smell the end of the semester in the air. Next week is Halloween, followed soon by Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving break, and the End of Course test for my 9th graders. Then the holiday break, and a new semester.

I'm SO grateful that the principal of the school always smiles and says hello to me. That's a management style which is far more effective than icy stares, in my opinion!

Rosy-fingered dawn

Saturday: In Homer's Odyssey, dawn is usually described as "rosy-fingered." Yesterday morning, the sunrise reached across the gray sky just as the Greeks and Latins described it in their epics, beautifully "rosy-fingered." On my way to work, I drive over a river, and yesterday, the epic sunrise looked spectacular over the water. One of the important joys of being an educator is being educated at all times. I haven't read the Odyssey for years, but teaching it has required me to re-read and re-appreciate it, probably more than the students ever will at this stage. I love the epic descriptions of nature. When I was a high school student taking Latin, I was forced to translate the Aeneid from Latin into English, and to this day, I remember the rosy-fingered dawns described by Virgil. Teaching secondary English has forced me to review material, as well as to learn material, that I didn't need to know during college teaching. High school ELA programs are quite thorough in their requirements, from reading lists to literary terms, so I continue to learn or re-learn.

I got nine weeks' grades in last week and started a new nine weeks. As an ending to the Count of Monte Cristo unit, I showed the 2002 film version, very cheesey and romantic, and not at all like the book. Nevertheless, the students enjoyed it (great substitute for reading the book, I'm sure) and it had some good scenes of Chateau D'If and Marseilles. Its theme of revenge could not help but be thrilling, and what student can resist loving a lot of fight scenes? The truth is, though, that Edmond Dantes, the Count of Monte Cristo, never physically touched his enemies, and ruined them in far more sophisticated ways, such as hitting them where it really hurt, in the pocketbook.

I ordered the long Gerard Depardieu version of the movie through Netflix and started watching it last night. This version hits the spot! It's in French, but if the translation is accurate, is faithful to the text. I managed to watch four hours of it last night and will finish the next few hours of the movie today.

Liberto arrives home tonight at 10 p.m. I truly hope the plane is on time. I always call the airline hotlines before departing for airports because there's nothing worse than hanging out for wasted hours at an airport, with later arrival times appearing on the screens every 15 minutes. But even if I wait for hotline confirmation that the plane has departed Miami, what if that departure time is pushed up till midnight or later? I am not a Night person. I don't do well after 9 p.m.

It's drizzling today. Every morning now, a few fresh lemons appear on the lawn.
I have three full bowls of fresh lemons in the house. We'll have to start taking them to work, to give away to people. The tree has grown so well that one section has arched right into the fish pond reeds, weighed down by the clusters of growing fruit. I hate that we'll probably have to cut some of those branches before the limbs end up in the pond water.

Rain, rain, rain

Sunday: This morning I awoke to the sound of pouring rain. It has rained hard almost all day, save for a few pauses. The leaves on the trees are dripping and waterfalls are splashing off the roof. It's now 8:30 (almost time for me to crawl into bed and grade the last few papers before retiring)and I can still hear it coming down hard outside. I love rainstorms if I'm inside and have nowhere to go.

The day stretched out. I graded nine weeks' exams all day, alternating that with the ongoing battle of the messy house. My day was almost exactly the same yesterday, except that Paul and I went to the gym yesterday afternoon, and I also took Pete for a walk, but other than that, it was the same ole. I was telling Diana today that when Liberto goes to Venezuela during Christmas break, I don't have the same pressures to get papers done, so I can actually turn my mind off from work and have fun on my own around the house, just puttering, doing this and that, so I never feel bored, even when he's away. But during the school year, when I'm under pressure to keep up with the grading, either I can't seem to find the time to do something frivolous, or I can't shut off school-related thoughts long enough to enjoy whatever hobby I should be taking up. Thus, his absence right now has created a sense of boredom. Without his energetic presence to balance the monotony of 85 tests and other less-than-exciting work-related tasks, I feel rather dull and blah today.








I wish I could spend less time on schoolwork; I wish I could just turn off the switch when I get home and forget everything until the next day. I'd like to spend more time writing my blog, or working on another creative project I have, or hanging out with friends more. I guess part of it is I'm just wired to be anxious about work. Even when I was a young thing, I worried, no matter what the job was. Even when I slung hash in Maine during the homestead days, I was nervous about doing it well, never mind for other more important employment gigs over the years. I admire people who are naturally placid and unruffled, who never worry and in fact always assume that the workplace is lucky to have them! Yes, I've seen that type before!


Gus and Pete snuggled up for a nap today. That rainy weather just makes a dog and a cat feel sleepy, doesn't it?

Glad it's Friday

Friday: It was noticeably darker this morning as I drove to work. I gave the third and last nine week's exam today, and now have a stack of them to grade. Ah, it's Friday. I love Friday evenings and the prospect of a grading-free evening.

I'm sick about the stock market crash(es). I'm sick about how much of my IRA from the years at Georgia Southern has disappeared. L and I worked hard during those years and had our priorities straight when we decided to contribute a decent monthly amount to that retirement account so that I would have a glimmer of hope to be able to retire some day. When I left GSU, I just let the account sit since I'm in the state Teacher's Retirement System. Our goal now is for me to achieve 10 years in TRS---I'm now in year five---and use the GSU account to supplement the measly pension from TRS or even buy a few more years from TRS. Even with the best case scenarios for retirement income, I sure as heck won't be living high on hog. Perhaps this is time of life when aging baby boomers should come together and start farmsteads, homesteads, and communes, and live cooperatively and economically with each other's help. We ex-hippies had it all wrong. We should have kept our noses to the grindstone during our younger years and gone back to the land in our sixties. But nah, I think we're too tired and creaky now to be chopping wood and harvesting crops.
I know I'm too crabby and independent to want to share my space, my routine, or tomato crops with anyone but family.

Yesterday, the first fight occurred at Richmond Hill High School. Remember at Groves, there was one about once per day? Until yesterday, there had not been one at RHHS. But the spell has been broken. At 3:00, as school let out, a violent fight erupted at one of the entrances to the school. I didn't see or hear it because I was in my classroom, but the three children of the teacher with whom I share the classroom came running into the room, all excited and breathless, reporting that THEY HAD SEEN THE FIGHT! Their mother was out of the room, so they had to tell me everything. "One guy was on the ground and the others were STOMPING ON HIM!!" A teacher got hit during the chaos.

This morning, my first block students were talking about THE FIGHT non-stop until the first bell rang. After all, it's not the norm for them, as it was at Groves. Then, for the first time since school began, the Principal himself came on the intercom to speak to all teachers and students. After his reminder that he will NOT tolerate any nonsense and WILL permanently expel students who misbehave physically, he said that the fight yesterday was vicious, violent, and was gang-related. A few gang members who were not students at our school, walked right through the door and jumped a RHHS student (he was the one on the ground). The principal assured everyone that the jumpers were now in jail. He told the students that he was aware that there is a growing element of "gang wannabes" at the school, and he said, to the effect, "Students, don't be stupid. If you're a gang wannabe, the real gang members are going to come after you. Plus, we're going to expel you." After his announcement, one of my students confided that "Brandon," a student in that very class, had been part of the fight. He was absent this morning. I don't know for sure if he was the one jumped, but he certainly fits the stereotype of a gang type. To be honest, if he did not return to the school, I would not be sorry. He swaggers in every morning with an attitude---I'm the man!---and proceeds to disrupt, show off, not work, and basically do the posturing thing. I think the school administration is serious about culling the deadbeats. The bad boy of my third block class has been expelled from the school, and the freon-sniffer is in ISS almost full-time, where he can sleep contentedly. One of the special students from my fourth block class has been expelled, to my surprise. Apparently, his mistake was to be naive. On the way to school one day, he found a bong (so he claims)and brought it to school to impress the cooler kids. The administration was not amused, and expelled him.