Summer Sundays

It's Sunday night. The thunder is still growling outside, and the rain is still dripping, but I think the storm has moved past. I adore summer Sunday nights when I don't have to work the next day.

We bought our Paris/Italy vacation package for December! I know it's far away, but I wanted to get the most convenient flight times at the best price. Of course we also got the trip cancellation insurance, just in case, but we're optimistic. Terry told us about a European travel website that I had never heard of, called go-today.com. Using their multiple-destination feature, we created a Dec. 20 - Jan. 1 trip for a wonderful price. We land in Paris first and stay three nights, then fly on to Rome until the Dec. 31st New Year's count down. We return Jan. 1, flying out of Rome. When the school year heats up this fall, I'll just close my eyes, breathe a silent OHHHHHMMMM and visualize the Eiffel Towel and the Seven Hills.

Contrary to what I just said above, the rain has started again. I love rainy nights as much as I love Sunday nights before a non-working Monday.

Hot hot Friday

The sky is purple and rumbling. The t.v. screen is flashing "Severe T-storm warning."
The daily afternoon storm is crawling in. It was 101 today, according to my car's thermometer.

I finished SAT's on Tuesday. Wednesday through today, I really have no idea what I've done. The days have blurred together with nothing spectacular, unless you consider that I cleaned out the linen closet, which was so stuffed and disorganized it was impossible to find anything. I amassed a large pile of sheets and mattress pads that we don't need and drove them to the Humane Society to donate for the animals. They're always looking for towels, sheets, and blankets.

My routine is lovely to me, although it would sound crashingly boring to anyone else. Every day I sleep late---what a joy!---read the newspaper by the koi pond, do errands and household business, go to the gym or pool, play on Facebook, read, and putter.

I received a letter from the Georgia Teacher's Retirement System. The good news is that I have three years of out-of-state service that I can use to buy out three years from Georgia's TRS! After the forthcoming school year, three more years are all I need to be vested and retire with full honors, all the benefits and a pension. The bad news is that I can't buy them all out at once. They have a rule that after 6 years, you can buy one retirement year; after seven, another, and so on. Thus, having had 6 years in the system, I can only buy one year now. After the next school year, I can buy a second year. Okay, that adds up to 9 years. But to make it to 10, I need one more year after the next school year. They were forced by technicalities to give me a contract for 2010-11, but will they spend the year thinking of creative ways to non-renew me for the year after? The lady I called at TRS today told me that if I worked part-time for the last year at any job affliliated with TRS, not necessarily my current job, it would still count as a serviceable year.

On another note, the Troy Davis case is back in the news. After an historic ruling by the Supreme Court, a new evidentiary hearing was held by a federal judge in Savannah this week. Davis was convicted of shooting a Savannah police officer in 1989the same year we moved to Savannah, but always maintained that he was innocent. He was sentenced to death and was almost executed several times, but for appeals, once getting a stay two hours before a scheduled execution. Since the original trial, 7 of the 9 original witnesses who said Troy Davis did it have recanted their testimony, saying they were intimidated by police and coerced into their statements. The media is all over this, of course. After following the case in '89, it's spooky to see the slain police officer's children, then 2 and 2 months, giving interviews to the media as adults. I'm very interested in the outcome of this latest trial. Since I've taught To Kill a Mockingbird, I've told the students about the Innocence Project. It's scary to see how many hundreds of convicted criminals have been sprung after DNA testing proved them innocent! Witness identification is the the weakest type of testimony, and the Troy Davis case is based entirely on that.

Father's Day Sunday

We stayed up late last night watching a French foreign film. This morning, Liberto was already up and reading the paper in the living room when I woke up at 8:40. He'd had about four good hours of sleep. The three of us went out to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. Among our topics of discussion: the trip to Paris/Rome/Florence/Venice in December. All three of us are immensely psyched up.

We stopped at Wal-Mart on the way home. By then, the heat was record-breaking, or at least that's how it felt. I checked the heat index when we got home, and it's 103.The daily storm should be rolling in soon.

Liberto phoned his father this afternoon. He is 93 and almost always mentions that he is ready to die, whenever Liberto calls. I, of course, thought about my father. Although Dad was well-educated, well-read, and a medical doctor who obviously knew his share of science, he also believed in God and Heaven. (Some think that being educated and having faith are incompatible, but I don't. However, that's another discussion.) In my very early years, one of the family traditions was an evening bedtime story. Either Dad or Mother would sit on the edge of the bed and tell one of the old favorites, such as Jack and the Beanstalk or Hansel and Gretel. Following the story, we had bedtime prayers. I don't know whether the prayer choice originated from Dad or Mother, but each night we recited the James Herriott poem "All Things Bright and Beautiful," followed by a list of family members to bless. Our evening prayer was a simple acknowledgement of the beauty and mystery of all living things. Since I did not have a fire and brimstone immersion in religion, I feel comfortable with prayer and am open to the possibility that there is more to existence than humans are capable of seeing, feeling, smelling or knowing. I'm sure this is because in my formative years, religious concepts were presented positively, comfortably, lightly, as a natural extension of daily life, not oppressed upon me with a fearful "Be good or you'll burn in hell!" approach, or pie-in-the-sky.

Growing up, we children went to Sunday school while my parents attended Church. I found Sunday school fun and thought-provoking. I particularly remember the round-table discussions in the middle school years, where we questioned and discussed things that have no answer. In our church, questioning and wondering was encouraged. In my teen years, when we lived in Plattsburgh, I belonged to the Methodist Youth Fellowship and really liked it because it was more of a discussion-based experience and a fellowship of other young people.

Years later, at Dad's funeral, his male colleague gave the eulogy. Being bereaved, I don't recall every line, but I remember the closing one. The colleague ended by saying, to paraphrase, ". . . and the last thing I'll never forget about Paul is his profound belief in the Afterlife." This was a revelation to me. I did not know to what degree Dad had retained the belief system he had introduced to us during childhood. As we grew up, he had kept his beliefs to himself. He never went around prosthelytizing, bringing religious dogma into every discussion, or using it as a tool to try to dominate or subjugate others, as some people do, with their holier-than-thou approaches.

On Facebook it drives me crazy that some people post statements such as "If you are a TRUE Christian, post the statement I LOVE JESUS CHRIST on your wall RIGHT NOW!" I take great offense at having to follow someone's orders to "prove" my worthiness or whatever it is they think they are proving. It reminds me of the old days when panting guys would manipulate girls into "PROVING" their love. Spreading one's legs for a demanding boyfriend is just as shallow a type of "proof" of love as pasting a statement on facebook is.

Dad, Happy Father's Day! If it's a sunny day in Heaven and the breeze is strong, I'm sure you're smiling ear to ear as you sail across beautiful blue Lake Champlain.

Surprising Liberto with the news of our trip to Italy

Ever since I turned in my signed contract for another round of high school fun, I've been mentally planning the reward that will sustain me. Because the school system has granted a whole two-week vacation in December this year, longer than any I've seen before, I began to think about what part of Europe would be warm enough, or at least not 30 below, in December. I remembered that Mark and Terry went to Rome last December, so I began researching a trip-for-three over there. Rome has always been on my bucket list; after all, I'm probably the last remaining person on earth who studied Latin in high school, college, AND graduate school, during which I learned a lot about Roman history and culture. Researching on various travel sites, I learned that the price for a trip is not bad. I juggled some dates, airlines, and hotels and printed out a couple of possibilities. I planned my points of argument for Liberto:

1) Next December is our 25th anniversary; this would be an awesome way to celebrate
2) I have never coveted diamonds or fancy cars, but I always did want to see more of Europe.
3) To get me through the semester, I need something to look forward to
4) Íf we're going to wait until we're rich to do this, then we'll be waiting forever, and I'm not willing to do that.
5) I earn half the money around here, so I have the right to spend my half on something I really, really want. (Not that we divide it in half; that's a joke. It all flows into the same money pit together.)
6) My father fought in Italy during World War II
7) I've always had a secret hankering to be blessed by the Pope, ever since my parents had that experience during a visit to Italy in the late sixties or early seventies. My family isn't even Catholic, but the blessing was so moving that my mother cried and never got over what a powerful experience it was.
8)Italian is close to Spanish, Liberto, and you understand Italian pretty well, so you'd be a good tour guide.
9) We don't have pets anymore, so until we get a new cat or dog someday, let's take advantage of the freedom and go. For their entire lives, we always boarded Pete and Gus at the vets when we traveled because I didn't feel comfortable leaving them at home alone with a neighbor looking in.


After Jeopardy, I sat next to Liberto on the couch and told him sweetly that I am going on a trip, and that I'd like him to come with me. I presented my print-outs of the various vacation packages to Rome. Calmly, I waited for his mouth to tighten, at which point I would begin to recite my above reasons.

His eyes lit up. "I'd love to do that!" he said. "But let's extend the time to 10 days instead of just seven! And I want to stop in Paris on the way to Rome. I just HAVE to see Paris! Just two days! Then we'll go on to Rome! I also want to visit Florence and Venice! It's always been my dream to see Florence!"

I was thrilled! He shares my enthusiasm for the trip! I reminded him that we don't have to see everything and go everywhere in one trip, and we could always return another time.

Thus, we agreed that on Saturday, we will sit town together in front of the computer, go through all the travel sites, and plan the trip, seeing how well we can fit Paris, Florence, and Venice into it.

This makes the forthcoming semester seem a lot more do-able.

Liberto doesn't drink. But last night, he had another sleepless night. Almost every night, he can't sleep more than three or four hours. This morning he was exhausted and said he might have a real DRINK tonight to help him achieve a good night's sleep. He said he thought he had a little bottle of gin somewhere in the house, a souvenir present from Venezuela. They always send liquor back with him. This evening, he was three sips into his gin and tonic when I presented my proposal for the trip.

I'm hoping his response wasn't just the alcohol talking and that he feels the same in the morning. "Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker" as the old saying goes.

Searing hot Sunday

I just returned from the daily trip to Food Lion. The unbearable heat hung thickly in the air. It was predicted to be in the high nineties today. No doubt, a thunderstorm is on its way, now that it's late afternoon. The sky is already darkening. Good! I love storms. Love the pounding of the rain on the roof and windows, love to look outside and see the fish and frogs dancing excitedly in the splashing pond.

The week in review: On Tuesday morning, Shawn left for Ft. Campbell, Kentucky. This time, he's allowed to have a vehicle on the base, so he took off in his car that has been parked in our driveway for almost a year. I assume he got there okay because the next day, I noticed one of his postings on Facebook. On Thursday, I started grading the June SAT's, and have been doing that daily. The grading window continues for at least another week. I see this as one of my post-retirement careers, so I try to accept every offer they make.

Paul is finishing his Associates Degree in drafting this month. He and I talked about it this week and we decided he would apply to transfer to Armstrong for a four-year degree in Health care. First, I told him it would give me peace of mind for my old age if he could have a degree in a field that would be almost certain to land a job. In this economy, the opportunities for drafting are as minimal as most other fields, but health care is far more promising. Second, I can't help but remember how patient and kind he was when tending to Pete in his last weeks. Paul may not be an extrovert, but he has a tremendous capacity for compassion. Third, many of his drafting courses will transfer. The two fields don't appear to be related, but oddly, health care requires a fair amount of math, and he's already taken some tough math courses through the drafting program, as well as psychology. This week, he received a Certificate from Central Georgia Tech acknowledging his high G.P.A. I've been impressed with how focused and responsible he has been with all his colleges courses, always studying hard, always getting assignments ready before the deadlines. I told him if he wanted to, he could still be a drafter in the future if the market opens up because he has the Associates degree, and nothing will change that, but if he adds a health care degree, such as nursing, onto that, he will have more choices. Thus, he applied to Armstrong this week and started the paperwork, such as transcript requests.

Derek and family returned from Cozumel last weekend. I would love to post the link to his photos from that trip, which he emailed to me on the Facebook chat room, but I can't find it in my computer's history or on facebook. It looked like they were having a beautiful time---how could one not, in lovely Cozumel?

Between SAT's, laundry, Food Lion runs, a little writing, the gym, and household business, I've been reading Matterhorn, by Karl Marlantes. It puts the reader right into the jungle of Viet Nam during the war. And of course, I've been watching my housing shows. This ongoing interest must be inspired by envy. I'm always excited watching couples tour their three final housing choices, usually all gorgeous, often overseas in exotic places, and then make their final selection. I also love watching Designed to Sell. Surely it is envy. It's all I can do to keep up with the basics in this very basic house, let alone remodel in the ways their team can do. Our next big step will be to put hardwood floors in the living room and bedroom, but that will be a major project because Liberto will insist on doing it himself, as he did with the the t.v. room and hallway.

Sunday swim

Late this afternoon, Paul and I enjoyed the first swim of the season, in our community pool. We swam for about half an hour before an ominous dark cloud crept in. Right now, it's just starting to rain, with little splatters bouncing off the azalea bush outside.

It's been a sweet, lazy weekend. This morning, Liberto and Shawn drove out to Tybee to go fishing. Instead, they accidentally caught a seagull which swooped down and tried to snap the bait off the hook in mid-air, as Shawn was casting, and got tangled in the line. Between the two of them, Liberto and Shawn were able to reel it in and carefully disentangle it and send it on its way. It put up a big fuss, of course, and bit Liberto's finger in the process. I am pleased, of course, that the two of them did the right thing. As I told Liberto later, "The way a person treats animals reveals everything about that person's character." A few years ago, when Shawn was living here, he drove several huge buckets of water from our fish pond down to our docks to empty them there because there were minnows still swimming around in that water and he didn't want to just toss the water on the ground and watch the minnows thrash around and die, as many other people might have done.

This afternoon, Liberto and I went to the gym, but found that it had closed at 4:00. But he already goes three times a week in the mornings before work, and I've been keeping up with going too, but not early. I sleep late every day, and it's wonderful.

I was watching Face the Nation or one of those pundit talk shows this morning. I think it's important to listen to all points of view, not just what I want to hear, and that's why I listen to discussions on Fox as well as CNN and read opinion columns by conservative and liberal writers alike. One thing I know is that around here, Obama is not well-liked, which is to be expected in this ultra-conservative state. It's hard to tell from where I sit how voters across the nation feel, but I do have a gut feeling that Obama won't win re-election in 2012. I know the Tea-Partiers are vastly exaggerated and their numbers are actually small, but I'm not sure he has the same widespread support he had in 2008.

Summer flows lazily along

I've said this once or twice before: I love the summers, especially when I reach the point of not knowing for sure what day it is. The teacher at my school who got cut is terrified of unemployment because she dreads having unstructured, open-ended days of not knowing what to do with herself. She may be worried about money, too, but a bigger fear is not having that emotional anchor of a job. If I ever felt that way, that feeling has long passed. I like my own company and have no problem spending unstructured time with myself. That's a good place to be emotionally.

A few days ago, I called the Georgia Teacher's Retirement System to find out about buying out my last three years in the system. They were very helpful. They told me which form to download and instructed me to mail the form to Francis Marion University, where I had my first real teaching job after graduate school. Human Resources will have to verify my three years of full-time employment there. They will then send the form to the South Carolina Teacher's retirement system for information. The paperwork will then go back to the Georgia Teacher's Retirement System for evaluation. The GTRS will send me a letter informing me IF I can buy out three years, and if so, how much it will cost. If a buy-out is on the horizon for me, I know I can get through next school year.

I'm in the process of having dental work that is running into the three thousands. Knowing I have both dental insurance and a medical flex spending account through my job has taken some of the edge off the pain, at least financially. The actual procedures are no less traumatic, but I comfort myself by thinking about Chuck Nolan wincing, rubbing his jaw, and telling Wilson, "I'd give anything to have a dentist on this island!" before knocking his impacted tooth out with an ice skate blade. I'm just having some crowns put on, but they are not cheap. In addition, both of our cars are in the repair shop today. Liberto's needs a new alternator and mine needs new brakes. Again, it's not cheap. Maybe I am delusional to think that we could have lived comfortably on L's salary and my part-time income, if I had lost my job. I've always said that it's not the little things that impact a family's budget, such as buying the cheap brand of cellophane versus buying Saran Wrap. It's the surprise, big-ticket items that keep a family on edge, the unexpected increase in homeowner's insurance, the termite damage co-pay, the broken washing machine, the broken glasses frames, the sick dog, the stalled electric garage door; I could go on and on.

In fact, the repair shop just called to say the cars are both ready. Paul is going to drive us there to pick them up. Let me grab the checkbook before we leave...