Now That's Farmin'!!!

I’ve got this neighbor who we’ll call Old McDonald.

Now, Old McDonald is quite a guy. As far as “Do-It-Your-Self-ers” go, he is the man. Old McDonald has lived here for over 30 years. I’ve only been here for the last 10 of those years, but that’s long enough to be quite amazed by the jobs he’s pulled off. To date, I’ve been a bystander as he installed his own sprinkler system, laid the wood floor in his house, tiled his front porch, and hung his own front door. However, in the 20 years before I got here there’s no telling what he did.

I like to think of myself as a fairly savvy, home project kind of guy. Thanks to my dad, I can fix more than my fair share of things around the house. However, it’s more than a little bit humbling to discuss home repairs with Old McDonald, because I know that inside he’s just laughing.

Old McDonald is also quite the farmer. In the back-40, which is really just a strip in the alley out behind his house, he’s always got something good growing. For the last couple of years it’s been tomatoes and peppers. And baby, these are some seriously good tomatoes and some seriously hot peppers. Old McDonald went out of town for a few weeks and told me I could have any tomatoes that turned red while he was gone, not many did, but the ones that did were very, very tasty. Every time I went anywhere I made a close inspection of each tomato in the garden.

Little did I know that Old McDonald was taking his farming to a new level.

It was after Old McDonald got home, and we were talking over the fence about the tomatoes, my new foundation repair and all kinds of stuff, when he was telling me about some problem one of his gutter downspouts was having due to all the rain we’ve had.

He was in mid-sentence as he gestured up to the gutter on the second floor above his garage. What we saw silenced him, raised my eyebrows, and made both of us smile.

“Went with corn this year did ya?” Was all I could think to say.

I don’t remember exactly who said what, but we each made several wisecracks about keeping the rabbits off, how hard it was to plant, and being a bitch to harvest.

Like the song says;

“…and on his house he had some corn, ee-i-ee-i-oh!”

OKC

“Oklahoma City? What’s in Oklahoma City?”

These are the words that somehow stumbled out of my mouth when I was asked if I had any interest in making the journey.

I was quickly informed that the Oklahoma City (OKC for short) has one of, if not the, largest collections of Chihuly glass in the world. I’ve seen some Chihuly glass, and it’s pretty amazing, so I said, “Sure, let’s go.”

I think I was more excited about making a road trip with our friends Darryl and Winjie than I was to see the Chihuly, but I figured the glass would be fun too. I really wasn’t expecting much more that a fun time with some good friends, and the chance to see some Chihuly glass…but it turned out to be better than I expected.

First things first, the Chihuly glass was incredible. I am officially a fan. Not that I’m going to be buying any to decorate my home any time soon, but seeing this huge exhibit and watching a video showing the incredible process each piece goes through has made me think twice about buying some...you know, when we win the lotto and all.

We also went to the National Memorial of the Oklahoma City bombing. I was both very impressed and deeply moved. I’ve written before the closed head injury and my emotions, and this was really hard for me to make it through. I mean if you cry at Tide commercials, something like this puts you through the ringer.

The memorial, inside and out, is wonderfully done. It walks you through the day and you leave with a true understanding of what this did to the community and how the community pulled together to overcome such a horrible time in its history.

I must admit, I never really understood the whole empty chair sculpture thing out on the lawn. I thought it looked good, especially lit up at night, but now I understand…it makes sense.

I gave up trying to put into words here how seeing it made it all make sense, because nothing I wrote seemed to do it justice. Visit if you have the chance and I think you’ll see what I mean.

And last but not least, we went to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum. We had been told by Melissa’s mother that it was a good museum and worth seeing. I went along simply because I didn’t think it would kill me. However, I was pleasantly surprised. There was a whole section devoted to John Wayne, Buck Rogers and all the old movie cowboys. Not to mention, the all the great guns they had on display. Overall, the museum was fun. Well, except for when Darryl and I were forced to dress up like cowboys for a picture. I’ll post a picture of the two roughriders in western garb as soon as I get one from Darryl.


Now for the food:

I didn’t want to go to Oklahoma City and eat at places I could eat at in Dallas. Chili’s, On the Border, or places like that. I wanted to experience some real OKC cuisine. And experience it we did!

There’s a place downtown that Melissa and Winjie knew all about called, Bricktown. Bricktown is a kind of downtown revitalization thing, I think. While we weren’t all that impressed with what Bricktown had to offer in the way of Friday night entertainment, it does have a fun micro-brewery called Tap Werks, and Tap Werks has good food, cold beer and a fun atmosphere.

We also ate a fun place called Shorty Small’s. It’s a BBQ and burger kind of joint that was also rich in OKC flavor and tradition. It was good, but the BBQ sandwich, while good, couldn’t hold a candle to Peggy Sue BBQ here in Dallas. This is a fact that I decided against sharing with our waitress. However, their blackberry cobbler was more than a wee-bit tasty.

Saturday night, we went out to the lake, and sadly I don’t even know which lake it was. It was one of those lakes with lots of water. We went just to go see the sunset and sit and talk. We went to a restaurant/bar called Pearl’s Lakeside, had some more to eat, and sat outside by the water and listened to a band called 2AM. They were good enough that we even bought one of their CD's.

Get this; we even closed down the place! I know what you’re thinking, “Man, they are some party animals!” However, I should probably tell you that last call was at 11:00PM and not 2:00AM.

What can I say – It’s Oklahoma.

Sunday morning we had breakfast at a place called The Classen Grill. It was another old time, been there for over 50 years kind of OKC institution, and it was good too.

I have to thank Winjie for doing all the restaurant research. She somehow found our about all these great places and she even had directions and maps to boot!

So should you go to Oklahoma City for your next vacation? I’m not sure it has all the makings for full-blown vacation, because after a couple of days I was ready to hit the road.

But next time you’ve got a weekend to burn, give OKC try, you may just enjoy yourself…I know I did.

This is the Life!

The only 7-Eleven in Texas that changed to a Kwik-E-Mart for the Simpson's movie is only about 5 miles from my house. So of course I had to go get a Squishee and some Buzz Cola. I decided to buy a 6-pack so I can send a couple to Gordon.

Here I am with my recent purchases.

Foundations of Life

Unlike the title of this post might suggest, this isn’t writing with a deep theological meaning. I’ll leave that to Real Live Preacher.

I first began to notice some foundation issues a few years after we moved in. Doors sticking, cracks in the sheetrock, and a couple of cracks in the bricks on one side of our house. We had a soaker hose that went around about half of the house, and at first, simply having that on for an hour or two was all we needed to fix the sticking doors.

Sadly, the soaker hose hasn’t been fixing things recently and I decided it was time to bite the bullet.

There are about 10 guys are out there working, so I decided to take a few pictures and write a bit about what’s going on. For a man (some say simply a big kid) with a love of anything mechanical, this was a dream come true! Baby, I’m having a blast.

I put a cooler full of ice and water bottles on the porch this morning for the guys as kind of a bribe. I think it worked, because they haven’t minded me poking around and taking pictures.

The type of repair we decided on is the concrete pressed pilings. These are six inch in diameter x 12-inch long cement cylinders with a hole running straight through the center of the length of the cylinder. The put rebar in the hole and a kind mortar between the cylinders to stabilize the piling. They dig as many of these holes as the engineer says they need. For us it was it was 14, but the average is 10.


Cement cylinders

First, they dig a 2 foot square hole, that is about 5 feet deep right next to the foundation. Then they put the cylinders into the hole one at a time and use a hydraulic jack to press them down into the ground. They keep on pressing these into the ground until the amount of force needed to press the cylinder into the ground is greater than the amount of force needed to lift the house. Then they put a wider piece on top of the last cylinder and use jacks and shims to level it
off.


Looking down into a hole



One wall of holes



Finished piling with shims

Even as I’m writing, I can both hear and feel the work that’s being done right outside my window. This is the closest I’ve ever come to being in an earthquake…it’s kind of fun.

My cats are freaking out! I’m talking arched backs, big tails and everything!

They should be finished today, with maybe a little bit of work to do tomorrow. You know, holes filled in and bushes put back – that sort of thing.

They’ve barely started to shim things up, and already my two doors that stick aren’t sticking anymore.


Not too shabby, not too shabby.

Some People are Really Stupid...

So Melissa and I are going to the movie. We saw Ocean’s 13 and it was very entertaining. However, that’s not the crux of this story.

We went to the Northpark AMC 15 Theater. Northpark is a mall here in Dallas and the theater is relatively new. Usually I don’t like going to theaters in malls, but this one is about the closest theater to our house, and the parking is usually better than most of the other theaters.

We’re looking for a parking spot when I turned down an aisle and first witnessed the shenanigans happening down at the other end. As we crept down the aisle looking for a spot to park, my gaze was locked on a small four-door sedan and a minivan.

At first it looked like the sedan was leaving a front row spot and the van was being impatient as it waited to park. However, it quickly became clear that the sedan was trying to twist its way around, via some very creative forward and reverse maneuvers, and steal this space from the minivan.

The minivan was doing its best to crowd, but not touch the sedan in order to somewhat forcefully persuade her not to park there.

It is important to know that there were two African-American ladies in the sedan, and a white lady driving the minivan.

Melissa and I were immediately entertained. The first thing we thought of was the Seinfeld episode where George gets into the parking dispute while trying to parallel park.

We’re laughing and having a good time, all the while waiting for them to get finished so we can find our own spot.

The sedan finally gets into the spot and the minivan starts to pull away and stops. I don’t mind telling you that I began to get a little worried. It’s a sad state of affairs, but people have been shot here in Dallas for much less.

The lady in the minivan rolls down the window and shouts at the top of her lungs, “That’s why everyone hates black people!” Then she drives off.

My first thought was, “Oh, why did you have to bring race into it?” Then I thought, “You mean, if you hate black people it’s because of the way they park?”

Then I saw the driver of the sedan shaking her head, and I decided I wanted to say something to her. I drove over to the exact spot that the other lady had made her idiotic remarks, stopped my car, looked over at the lady and smiled.

She looked back, but didn’t smile and seemed a bit guarded.

“I’m sorry she said what she said.” I told her. “That was very mean and it’s just not true, please don’t listen to her. I like you because of what you did! That was great parking!”

She smiled and her passenger said, “Thanks, but we never listen to people like that.”

I drove off feeling like I had done something good, fought the good fight.

It wasn’t long before that lady’s words started to haunt me, “We never listen to people like that…we never listen to people like that…we NEVER listen to people like that.”

I only happened to be there while these two ladies were treated like second class citizens. And it’s something they deal with enough to be able to say, “We never listen to people like that.”

I don't feel like I'm going through life with blinders on. I mean, I've seen my fair share of bad stuff, but I guess in reality I’m pretty sheltered.


Like I said, Some People are Really Stupid...

Childless in July

At 8:30 this morning you could find us, along with about 200 of our closest friends, at Inwood Village on Lovers Lane here in Dallas. This is our third year to put Macy on a bus and sent her off to camp for a month. There really weren’t any tears this time, at least not from us.

The family of a friend of ours put their little girl on the bus for the first time, and that sure brought back some memories. But in the end, all was well.

For the next month we’ll communicate by US Mail and, when we’re lucky, we’ll get a glimpse of our daughter enjoying one of her many activities on Waldemar’s web site. (They post 50 to 100 pictures a day)

Other than that I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself. Oh, I’ve got a list of projects. One of which involves me ripping everything out the master closet, painting and installing all new ClosetMaid wire shelves, drawers, and shoe racks…I’ll keep you posted on that one.

Power Restored!

After a day of electrical mystery all circuits are up and running, all our gauges have acceptable readings, and we’re good to go.

We limped along on half power for about 24 hours, but in the end everything turned out fine, and…it didn’t cost me a penny!

Dropped Power Leg???

“Mr. Atkinson, sounds like you’ve got a dropped power leg.”

“Umm…so what does that mean?”

“Well now, that’s hard to say. Could be something simple, it could be something really big, or it could be a bunch of small problems all combined, there’s just no way to tell until we get out there, dig things up and check ‘em out.”

This is never the conversation you want to have with your power company.

That was about 6:45 this morning. Since then I’ve discovered that not only are they going to have to replace about 100 yards of underground cable going to my house, but it’s an all day job with no real idea of a time or even a date for completion.

We’re getting more than our fair share of rain here in Dallas, maybe that’s to blame. Whatever the reason, the power in our house started acting rather strange yesterday afternoon. We were down the street with some friends when Melissa came home to get something and discovered our power dilemma.

What's odd is, only some of our power is out.

· The lights in our family room are out, but the television works.
· The main light in my daughters room is on, but all of her outlets are out.
· The main lights in our guest/computer room are out, but the outlets work just fine.
· The A/C keeps trying to turn on, but doesn’t have enough power, so I just turned it off.
(So I’m very happy to have the cooler rain temperatures for the day)
· Luckily, our fridge is still working, but the oven and microwave only have about half power.
· If I flip the light switch in the guest room, the oven’s timer beeps.

And the bizarre list goes on and on and on...


I don’t think Ben Franklin had this in mind when he flew his kite.

It wasn't a Rock...

The B-52’s (You can check them out here) had a concert at the House of Blues here in Dallas last night.

And we were there baby!

The fact that Melissa not only listened to the B-52’s, but also owned at least one of their albums was one of the first things I liked about her. I’ve liked the B-52’s ever since I first heard Rock Lobster. Back then their music seemed so kooky and unusual that it was hard for me not to like them.

I liked the fact that their songs were written about the most bizarre things. This was the late 1970’s and early 1980’s and all the music I was used to hearing was either some sappy love story put to music, or it was some AC/DC type of band singing about being “Back in Black.”

Don’t get me wrong, I really like those songs too, but I couldn’t understand half the words, and the half I could understand didn’t make any sense. Not that that made all that much difference.

However, with the B-52’s I could understand the words…I didn’t have any idea how they came up with the words, but they were catchy and I enjoyed both listening and singing along.

That being said, the concert was great!

The House of Blues' theater is pretty small, with a mosh pit and seats in the balcony. We sat in the balcony and could see and hear everything. My only complaint, if you can call it that, is that they didn’t play Quiche Lorranie, one of my favorites.

It was a lot of fun, well worth the money, and I’d go back to see them again in a heartbeat!



…it was a Rock Lobster!

SPAMALOT

I don’t think I had ever seen a musical on stage until the first year I got married. I had been to lots of plays, and had seen the movie versions of things like The Sound of Music, but as for experiencing a musical live and in person, I didn’t really understand the appeal.

However, shortly after our wedding my father-in-law gave us season tickets to the Dallas Summer Musicals…and I was hooked! There’s something about being in the audience as it is being performed that’s really cool.

A couple of years ago my father-in-law thought that the upcoming season look particularly good, and he decided to get season tickets for the four of us. We enjoyed the season so much that we’ve repeated our season tickets for the last three or four years. However, this is the first season that Spamalot has come to Dallas.

Spamalot is basically the Holy Grail put to music. The Playbill puts it this way:

Monty Python’s
SPAMALOT
A New Musical (lovingly) ripped off from the motion picture
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail"

I’m here to tell you that it is simply incredible! - My new favorite musical.

If you're even kind of a Python fan, then do whatever you must to go see it...It’s well worth your time and money.

MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU...

Wednesday, Macy and I went to the Star Wars exhibit (You can check it out here) at the Fort Worth Science and History museum. I, being somewhat of a Star Wars nut, was super excited. Macy, who was born a couple of decades after the original movie came out, doesn’t truly appreciate these films like I do. However, she tagged along promising to do her best to not get too bored.

I had a blast and Macy really enjoyed herself as well. There is also an IMAX film all about the history of special effects, and it was great. If you are any kind of a Star Wars fan I would highly recommend going to this exhibit. However, I read somewhere that Fort Worth is the only city in the Southwester United States that is going to host this exhibit, but that may or may not be true. The exhibit will only be in Fort Worth through the middle of September.

I snuck a camera in and managed to covertly snap a few photos…take a look at what we saw.



This is the actual landspeeder that
Luke Skywalker drove in the original
Star Wars movie. It was much smaller
than I had imagined.







A couple of the extremely detailed miniatures used in the filming.


One of the many Darth Vader costumes
from the original movie.



The inside of Darth Vader's helmet.


And of course, the most feared of all the
Jedi Lords, Hughbi-Wan-Kanoobi!



May the force be with you always.

It's a Snuba Miracle

When I told you about our cruise, I mentioned how much fun the snuba was on Roatan, but I didn’t say anything about the snuba miracle. Here’s how it goes.

We’re out about 200 yards from the shore enjoying a close-up look at the second largest reef system in the world…did I mention how much fun the whole snuba thing was?

Anyway, there were three people hooked to Gordon’s tanks and two hooked up to mine. We had been out for about an hour, I guess, and both of our tanks were running pretty low on air. I decided to go down deep one more time when water started seeping into my mask. It got up to just below my eyes and I headed for the surface. Just as broke the surface the salt water got in my eyes.

Popping the mask off and looking around I could tell that the seawater had washed out my left contact. I had only just barely started my cursing when I looked down at my mask and noticed my contact stuck right inside the space where my nose had been. I quickly grabbed it and proudly announced to the group that I found my missing contact.

“Great, can you put it back in?” Was the gleeful reply from Mark, our happy but somewhat shocked snuba guide.

However, as handy as he was, Mark hadn’t anticipated needing a mirror that day. So I sat there with my contact squeezed tightly between the thumb and index finger of my right hand.

Suddenly, out of nowhere another guide shows up in a yellow kayak and tells me to take the kayak back to shore. Somehow I manage to climb into this kayak, grab onto the paddle, and row myself back to shore all without losing my contact.

By the time I get to the shore there were several people from the snuba place standing there. One guy asks, “Are you the guy with the contact?” I nod and he says, “Don’t worry about the kayak, just go take care of you your eye.”

I get my backpack with my contact solution, rinse it off and pop it right back in.

It was a snuba miracle!



Oh yeah, my niece Reiley also got to pet a shark…I guess that’s kind of miraculous too.

Dukes of Hazard

So we go to see the musical Chicago last night here in Dallas. On the way, Melissa is telling me some of the actors playing the major roles. I think she mentioned that Tom Wopat would be playing Billy Flynn, but I didn’t recognize his name. Now, if she had said Luke Duke…well that would have been another story.

We go in and Macy is look trying to decide which Chicago shirt she wants to buy, when I notice this guy standing next to the souvenir booth. The first thing that catches my eye is that fact that he’s wearing a hat. Not a big deal, but you don’t see many ball cap type hats at the Dallas summer musicals.

That’s when I noticed how much he looks like Luke Duke from the show Dukes of Hazard. Same facial features, only older. I keep glancing over, trying to decide if it’s him and wondering why, if it is in fact him, he would be in Dallas, of all places.

I’m paying for a shirt when the guy taking my money points to the guy and says, “He was on the Dukes of Hazard.”

Melissa leans over and said, “That’s Tom Wopat! He’s playing Billy Flynn.”

I shake his hand and say, “You know, I ruined my 1974 Camaro trying jump it like the General Lee.”

He shook his head and just said, “Not my fault..not my fault.”

The musical was great, and Tom Wopat did a really good job.

Even without jumping an orange car over a bumbling sheriff.

Cruising

As celebration of my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary, the 13 members of the Atkinson clan set sail a week and a half ago for the Mexican side of the Caribbean. The ports we hit were Cozumel, Roatan and Progreso. We were also supposed to stop at Costa Maya, but choppy waters closed the dock that day, so we ended up going back and spending a second day in Cozumel, which ended up being a good thing.
The highlights of the trip for me were touring Chichen Itza, Snuba, the underground river in Xcaret, and of course smoking my first Cuban cigar.

Chichen Itza:
As for Chichen Itza, it was well worth the two-hour bus drive to and from the place. Dad, Gordon, my niece Reiley and I braved the bus and made this amazing journey. Walking around through these ruins that had been there for thousands of years was incredible. The precision these grand structures were built with would be difficult with today’s technology, so 1000 years ago these people were truly ahead of their time. We couldn’t go up the steps of El Castillo, the pyramid like building, but we were able to explore and climb around plenty of other places. I highly recommend going if you ever have the chance.

Me in front of "El Castillo" (the castle)

Snuba:
I’m not certified for scuba, and I always end up swallowing gallons of sea water when I snorkel, so snuba seemed like a perfect combination. Basically, you are connected, via a 20-foot hose with a dive regulator, to two scuba tanks that are floating on the surface above you. It’s very easy, very fun and you can stay underwater as long as you like. Whenever I snorkel I tend to breathe in short rapid breaths. Also, I can never seem to not think about my breathing, so I can’t really relax. With the snuba I was able breathe at a normal pace and forget about being under water. It was very cool.

Me and Macy underwater with a starfish

Xcaret:
Xcaret, which turned out to be a kind of tropical amusement park, was a place we were told would be a fun place to go. With the exception of the underground river, it wasn’t really worth the money.
The underground river is almost a mile long with these ancient Mayan sinkholes in the ceilings that provide light. As we were walking down to the entrance I noticed a sign that said the water’s average temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s only 30 degrees above freezing…and baby, that is some serious cold.

I walked down some step like rocks up to about my knees and I couldn’t go any farther. I turned around, kind of half sat down and jumped back with all my might. At first I couldn’t believe how cold it was, but the current was swift enough that there was no way I could have gone back even if I had wanted to.

Then good news is I was numb in about 30 seconds so the cold was no longer a factor. After that we just drifted underground through these ancient rock formations and had a blast escaping from the day’s 98-degree heat.

The whole family in the underground river.

Cuban Cigars:
On our second stop at Cozumel, Gordon and I went to a cigar shop that our ship had told us would have real Cuban cigars. Gordon got two and I got one for 15 bucks each. My dad bought two boxes of five cigars from some guy on a ferry we rode. The guy originally wanted $80 for one box, but ended up taking $100 for two, plus he threw in one extra cigar. So dad ended up spending about nine dollars apiece for each of his eleven cigars, although we had some serious doubts about the authenticity of his purchase.

Seems Gordon had done some research on Cuban cigars and found that you can tell a fake by the band. After comparing the bands, we’re pretty sure his are fakes. However, I had a chance to smoke both and while you could tell a difference between the two, they were both better than anything I’ve ever gotten in the states. Not that I smoke cigars all that often, so what do I know.

I really had a blast enjoying this kind of adventure with my family. Who knows when we’ll have a chance to do something like this again.

Maybe we'll go again in 50 more years…

What's a Teacher to do?

Sometimes we’re fighting an uphill battle.

Take a look here to see what I mean.

Ever so Sadly Yours,
Third Grade Mind

What's Happening

If you read my brother’s page, Real Live Preacher, which I assume anyone who reads my page does, then you know about our up coming cruise.

While I’ve heard the names of the places we’re going on more than one occasion, like my brother, I haven’t taken the effort necessary to commit them to memory.

For the most part I want to snorkel and catch some rays at a cool beach somewhere. I don’t really care where, so memorizing the names of the places really does me no good.

My goal is to take some notes, be they mental or actually on paper, and come back with some fun stuff to write about.

Unlike my brother, I’m not going to youth camp too, so I may get to write something before he does.

Who I'll Miss

Well, school’s finally over for the year. And it’s been a particularly tiring year. I think it was a combination of my principal retiring, one my grade level team members leaving, and the strange dichotomy that was my class that made this year noticeably more tiring than usual.

Any time a grade level teacher leaves, there is some uncertainty about the next school year. The grade level interviews and labors over not only who the new teacher will be, but also over all the changes that a new personality means. Maybe it’s a head injury thing, but I really hate change.

However, as odd as it may sound, I’m more at peace with the school having a new principal than I am with a new grade level person. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to miss Mrs. Kilduff, our former principal, more that I can say, but for some reason this is easier for me to get my brain around. You would think that it would be the other way around, but for some reason it’s not for me…who knows?

As for the kids, I’ll miss them, but I’ve had the whole year to think about them moving on, so it’s never the same…at least not until this year.

There’s a boy in my class, we’ll call him Pedro. Pedro is very smart. Pedro is very creative. Pedro has a great sense of humor. Pedro borders on gifted. Pedro is also a little lazy. Pedro is also a little impulsive.

Pedro sat up by me for most of the year, and it was a real love hate relationship. We had more than our fair share of fun times and we had more than our fair share of stern talks as well. I spent a good part of the year dreaming of the day that Pedro would be out of my class. It wasn’t until about a week or two before school was going to be out that I realized why I had such a hard time with Pedro.

You see, the things that describe Pedro, smart, creative, sense of humor, gifted, lazy and impulsive, are the exact same things my fourth grade teacher said about me.

Maybe I understood him better that any teacher he’d ever had. Maybe he understood me better than any student I’d ever had. Maybe, “You are your own worst student,” is really true.

I’m going to miss you Pedro, because you taught me a lot this year.


Pedro, have a great summer!

What did you say?

What I needed to say was…

“Boys, stop bouncing the basketballs.”

What I actually said was…

“Boys, keep your balls in your hands!”



I think you can imagine what happened next.

Block Party

Back in February, Moss Haven, the school where I teach, had its annual auction. Now this is no ordinary public school auction. I’ve been to my fair share of elementary school auctions, and I dare say none make this kind of money.

For starters, it’s held at night at a country club that’s not far from the school. Next, they have both live and silent auctions. Third, it’s parents only. They also hire a professional auctioneer. This guy is fantastic. He knows how to keep people bidding long after they’ve decided to quit. And last, but not least, alcohol is served. A fact that tends to loosen the purse strings on some of the bidders. Anyway, this year’s auction, an event that is actually raising money for next the next school year, cleared around 120,000 dollars.

I realize that many people have no idea how good that is, so allow me to put it in perspective. At my previous school, the last year I was there was a record-breaking auction year for the school. The PTA was absolutely giddy when they found that they had cleared almost $5000.

But this isn’t so much a story about the auction, as it is a story about one of the items that my wife and I purchased at the auction…an invitation to a block party.

There is an L-shaped cul-de-sac near the school that has about 10 –12 houses, most of which have children who either currently do, or recently have attended Moss Haven. Every year the people who live there close off the street and throw a huge party. There’s lots of food, lots of music and lots of people. These people know how to throw a party!

However, it’s by invitation only.

I think pretty much it goes like this: If you live on the street, you’re expected to be there and help with your share of the cost/work. If you live somewhere else, but are invited to attend, then you are also either asked or encouraged to help with both the financial and hard labor aspects of the party. However, if you purchased your invitation at the auction (which were going for 100 buck per couple) then you got to simply attend. They had 10 spots for sale in the silent auction, but ended up selling close to twice that many…with all the money going to Moss Haven.

Last night was the party and it was huge! The rain, which had been popping in and out all day long, stayed away. The nice temperature and the cool breeze made being outside until about 11:30 PM feel really nice.

Last night about 60 of my closest friends and I ate, drank and danced the night away.

I know what I’m buying at next years auction.

TAKS Happenings

As my students sat diligently working on their TAKS exam, I simply sat and spent time watching. I hadn’t been watching very long when I decided to make a list of the different things I saw and post it here.

The Things I saw during the TAKS Test

· Kids working hard
· Pencils being flown around the test paper like a rocket ship.
· A girl whose vacant stare and sheepish grin told me she was miles away having a great time.
· A boy picking his nose, looking around the room to make sure nobody was watching, and then wiping a huge chunk of something under his desk.
· A fairly lengthy finger puppet play…complete with one hand actually talking to the other.
· Frightened eyes
· Several blank stares
· Some quite sneaky attempts at what I can only assume was designed to be some kind of sign language between two girls. Both of whom instantly snapped to attention and got back to work the moment I cleared my throat.

And of course…
· A girl, who the nose picking boy didn’t see watching, looking like she might become violently ill.