Quotable Quote

From a second-year college student and third-string cornerback on the university football team:

If one has God given talent, one should not misuse it or take it for granite.

Labor Day Anniversary

I survived the first week back at school without any big mishaps. My students seem OK, but I can already tell that I have at least a couple of slackers. However, I also already know which is my favorite class. My research and argument students had to read a couple of chapters and a newspaper article that I assigned, and one class in particular really impressed me with their level of participation and the intelligence of their discussion. I'm really looking forward to going to that class every day. The only bad thing about it will be that the rest of the day will go downhill because the other two classes after that one don't seem nearly as talkative. But maybe that was just first-week nerves or something.

Today is JMG and Husband's 12th anniversary. I can't believe it's been that long sometimes. We marked the occasion by going out to eat at a home-cooking type of restaurant last night and having some dessert. It was OK. I think today we'll make some homemade ice cream, and if I'm feeling really celebratory, I might even bake a cake.

It's difficult to make special anniversary plans when the occasion falls during the first week of school, and this year it's even harder to do so because we have had an emergency with one of our dogs. We had to take Trixie to the vet yesterday because she was in terrible pain in her back. X-rays showed that she has two bulging discs. She spent the night in the hospital last night receiving pain killers, muscle relaxers, and steroid shots. We're hopeful that she can come home sometime today or tomorrow, but when she does, she'll have to be on strict cage rest for four weeks. Do you know how hard it's going to be to keep a Jack Russell Terrier happy in a cage for four weeks? We'll probably be sleeping with a cage on the bed for a while.

I hope everyone has a nice day off tomorrow if you have the day off. I know I'm going to enjoy mine, even if I end up having to do some school work.

Back to the Salt Mines and Other Stuff

I've been quiet lately because I've been getting ready to go back to work, which started back up today. I won't meet classes until this afternoon, so the day has been pretty good so far. We'll see what types of first-day of the semester emergencies this semester brings.

Nothing noteworthy has been happening to me as usual, which I guess is good. Husband and I went to the fair last week. We decided this year we'd pay the dollar to see the "World's Smallest Woman" assuming it would be some kind of trick with mirrors and stuff. But to our surprise, when we went up the steps and looked over the wall, there sat a real live, very tiny woman. We said hi and then hurried back down the steps, amazed that she was for real. The next day when we were talking about it, we realized that we both had the same weird, uneasy feeling when we saw the real live woman. It wasn't that we were weired out by her size, but that we felt strange about paying a dollar to look at an unusual person. We wondered whether she's happy being a side show, if she's placing herself on display by her own free will. We both agreed that we'd have felt much better if the whole thing had been a mirror trick instead of a real person.

We also avoided the horse-made ice cream this year. If you have never seen that, don't bother. They put a horse on an inclined treadmill that is hooked up to turn a manual ice cream freezer. The horse must walk or risk slipping off the treadmill. It seems really uncomfortable for the horse.

This was our first visit to the fair in several years, and I think we got enough this time that we won't need to go back for several more.

Convenience is not all it's cracked up to be.

Yesterday I stopped at the Kroger to pick up a couple of items, and when I went up front to pay, there was only one register open. Because a lady with a full cart was already in line, I decided to go against my principles and use the self check out. I do not like checking out my own groceries because first of all, it takes me twice as long as it would take an employee, especially when I’m buying a head of lettuce and the barcode is crumpled up and I have to straighten it so that the scanner will read it. Then I have to feed my money into the machine, and if a dollar bill has a crease on the edge, I have to take the time to straighten that out as well. But the main reason that I am against checking my own groceries is that I don’t get a discount for doing so. Part of the price that I pay for groceries goes toward the store’s overhead, which includes paying someone to work at a cash register, take my money, and bag my groceries. When I have to perform these tasks myself at a store, the store is receiving that much more pure profit while providing less customer service. Also, the extra labor involved in my checking my own groceries means that I am in effect paying more for my groceries than when I let the cashier check them.

Every now and then, when I am in the store and see a long line of people waiting to check out, I forget these things and go through the self check out because I perceive it to be more convenient. Yesterday, however, as I struggled to get the lettuce to ring up, I remembered why I hate the self check out, and I resolved to from now on be content to wait in the line and get my money’s worth in customer service.

Summer's Almost Over

Yesterday I signed a contract making it official that I am employed by the university for at least one more, and up to three, academic years. School starts up again on Monday, August 27. That gives me a little more than three weeks left to finish getting ready. Where did the summer go?

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Husband and I have begun a new project. We are now a part of the community of antique car owners. For a long time I have thought it would be neat to have a car to fix up and drive around to the various cruise-ins, and husband has thought so as well, but we've just now gotten around to doing something about it. We recently acquired a 1949 Ford sedan and a 1949 Ford pickup truck. Alas, we won't be driving our antique automobiles to the cruise-ins for a while, as they require massive work to get them road-ready. My past few weeks have been spent perusing hot rod magazines, websites, and parts catalogs. Yesterday, we took a trip to the paint store and a couple of body shops. We have a vision for what our autos will look like, but it will take some time to get there. My future contains lots of sandpaper.

Locked Out

When we built our house, we didn't spend a lot of time reviewing the options for many common but necessary items such as door knobs. What we ended up installing were knobs that when you lock them, you can still open them from the inside--meaning that it is extremely easy to lock ourselves out of the house, which we have done several times. (What is the purpose of this type of door lock? Who needs it?) I used to keep a spare key hanging outside in a tree, and it came in handy several times, particularly one cold winter night when Husband and I went out into the garage to see what kind of ice cream snacks were in the freezer. When we realized that we'd locked ourselves out, I borrowed his shoes and socks, as I was barefoot at the time, so that I could go get the key (he didn't know precisely where it was). It was a dark and cold night--I was wearing flimsy PJ's--and when I got into the woods, I had to feel my way to the tree and then feel all around to find the key. It was an adventure, and I didn't feel the need to eat ice cream that night.

Not long ago, some landscaping changes made getting to that key very difficult, so I took the key into the house and forgot about finding a new hiding place for it. That is until last night when Husband and I stepped outside to let the dogs go out before going to bed. As soon as I shut the door, I realized that it was probably a mistake, and indeed it was. To make a long story short, we ended up using a drill and a sledge hammer to demolish the door knob, and in the process, we ruined some of the door frame, creating another chore for my already overworked husband.

Today, my mission is to find a new place to hide the spare key.

My Simpson's Avatar

This is me as a Simpson's character. It's a remarkable resemblance, wouldn't you agree?

Re-vision

I reached a new milestone since I last blogged. Last week I visited my eye doctor, just knowing that the inevitable would happen this year. And it did. I now wear reading glasses. I knew it was coming. For a while now I've been sitting as far away from my laptop as my arms will reach. When I read a book, I have to move the book around every so often and look at it from a slightly different angle. I was starting to squint at things. The doctor said that I was suffering from eye strain and said that I would feel better if I wore reading glasses. The good news was that my distance vision is still very good, so I was able to avoid the dreaded bifocals. I swear I will never wear bifocals.

I am reminded at this point of an English teacher I had in high school. She wore two kinds of glasses--a pair for distance and a pair for reading. In class she didn't have to use the distance glasses, but when she wanted to read something she'd put on her reading glasses, read a few lines, look up and take them back off. It was sort of her trademark, repeatedly putting her glasses on and taking them back off. My eye doctor told me that I need to wear my glasses only when I'm going to be reading or working at the computer for long stretches, so maybe I won't become like my eleventh grade English teacher.

Shopping for reading glasses was not an altogether unpleasant experience. The girl who helped me was very friendly and honest and helped me to avoid any glasses that might make me look like a professor. I've never been a vain person, but I rather enjoy being mistaken for a college student when I'm at work, so I certainly did not want glasses that would make me look older. I picked up some brown glasses sort of the same color as my tortoise-shell sunglasses, put them on, and took them right back off again. Right then I decided to stay away from any drab colors. Since I don't have to wear these glasses all the time, I reasoned, why not go for something sort of funky, so I tried on pink glasses and green glasses and red glasses and multicolored glasses. I finally settled on a pair of turquoise and tan glasses that look nice with my eye color and will coordinate with most of my clothes.

When I used my glasses the first time I was sort of shocked. I opened my bible, looked at the words, and then put on my glasses. "Whoa!" I said. Although my eyes aren't in that bad of shape, I was amazed at the difference. I guess I'm sort of surprised since I've been an avid reader since I learned to read that this day didn't come sooner. I just hope that as the rest of my body starts to wear out, correcting the problems will be as simple as a new pair of glasses.

It's Time for Passover Again

Here's a wonderful piece of information I received in a newsletter from the president of my university:

"State legislators for the second consecutive year approved increased general operating funds for state colleges and universities. Seventy million dollars for new operating funds and 3 % across-the-board employee salary increases were approved.

"The 3% salary increase will be effective July 1. . . . The percentage raise will not apply to adjunct faculty, temporary employees, graduate assistants or student workers."

At my school, temporary faculty teach most of the general education courses--those classes that are required for all students (English, math, etc.). More and more, universities across the country are relying on temporary faculty; however, these same faculty are continually short-changed when it comes to raises and benefits. (I'm one of the lucky ones who does receive good benefits.) These faculty also typically teach twice the number of students per semester than their tenured or tenure-track counterparts.


This is the second consecutive year that temporary faculty will be passed over for a raise. I would complain about it, but because I had to reapply for my job this year and I haven't heard anything yet, I think it's better to keep my mouth shut. But this continual neglect is causing me to rethink how hard I want to work at my job this coming fall.

Relief

Today we finally got some much needed rain. Maybe now the grass in my yard won't be crunchy. But I doubt that whatever rain we get today will do much to alleviate the drought we're in.

Nothing much is happening around my house. We get up around 5:30; Husband goes to work, and I stay home and do laundry, study my bible, and think up something good for supper, or think up a scheme to get to go out for supper. That hardly ever works on a weeknight, however.
We're planning a fun weekend outing. We're going to canoe on the Caney Fork river on Sunday morning, putting in at the Center Hill dam and getting out at Betty's Island. We had a lot of fun the last time we went, and this time should be even better since we just got a new canoe. I can't wait to get it on the river. It's sort of hard to know how well it will handle just trying it out in my brother's swimming pool, but we got a pretty good idea that it's not nearly as tippy as our previous canoe. (Yes, we actually did try out the canoe in the pool. It was the highlight of our day--we're easily amused.)

Is everyone else having as uneventful a summer as I am?

Book Report

Tony recommended that I read Doug Marlette’s novel The Bridge, saying that I would love it. He was right; it is an excellent story. The primary story takes place in the present day, but a secondary story—what the main character, Pickard, learns about his family heritage—takes place in the late 1920’s through the 30’s, the main character of which is Pickard’s grandmother, Mama Lucy.

This is a novel that can be read more than once, and the reader can explore different themes during each reading. I particularly enjoyed the little history lesson presented in the story, one that I had never really learned about in school. Mama Lucy grew up in the South working in the textile mills weaving cloth. Her story centers on the textile workers’ strikes during the 1920’s and 30’s and the workers’ attempts at unionizing and petitioning their bosses for better pay and working conditions. What Mama Lucy experiences during this time is fundamental in shaping her actions and attitudes later in life towards her family.

Family dynamics, particularly those of Southern families, forms a major theme in this novel. Mama Lucy is the cause of much friction in the family. When she is first introduced, she a frail but feisty old woman celebrating her ninetieth birthday and resisting being sent to a nursing home. She still does all she can to exercise control over her grown children and grandchildren. Her family consists of a very colorful bunch, very few of which made it past high school, and those who did (Pickard) are viewed with suspicion. Pickard describes his extended family in the scene leading up to his attendance at his grandmother’s birthday party and family reunion:

The Cantrells are a fiercely modest clan, not given to ostentatious displays of personal wealth, material possessions, or hubris of any kind. Any and all forms of “showin’ off,” “puttin’ on airs,” or “gittin’ above your raisin’” are generally frowned upon in my family, and whatever pride we might possess is religiously suppressed, except when it comes to our means of transportation. Any residual Cantrell strut and boast is channeled into the chrome and paint jobs or the horsepower per cubic inch under the hoods of our latest set of wheels. We Cantrells may not go far in the world, but we’ll get there in style. No wonder a number of my relatives made their livings working on and around combustible engines—as garage mechanics, car dealers, auto parts specialists, service station attendants. Ambition in my family was gauged by whether you wanted to pump hi-test.

Pickard’s cousin describes ambition as the “Southern Disease,” a virus that should be avoided at all costs because “nobody likes it when somebody breaks with the rest of the herd. It pressures the rest to do the same, and that’s risky.”

Despite their various feuds and alliances (which will likely remind readers of some of their own past and ongoing family dramas), the extended family is very protective of each other, not allowing anyone, including other family members, to speak negatively of the family in pubic. When a particularly “redneck” cousin decides to badmouth Pickard at the reunion, another cousin comes to Pickard’s defense with a threat that I found particularly hilarious: “I want you to apologize to Pick, ‘fore I rip you a new asshole and rearrange your digestive tract to where you don’t know whether to piss or fart.” If the offender had been someone outside the family, he likely would not have received fair warning before being subjected to such a procedure.

In his dealings with his family, the main character Pickard enters upon a journey of self-discovery. Along his journey, the novel explores many other themes such as loyalty, betrayal, resentment, and forgiveness, not only within the family dynamic, but in other venues as well. This is a novel that can be read and interpreted on many different levels, and readers certainly will see parallels to their own lives in this very engrossing story. I will definitely look for other titles by this author.

If you've read it, let's talk about it. (Do I get an A, Tony?)

Rest In Peace, Woody

My dogs and I will miss seeing you jumping out of your Element and christening cars on Saturday mornings.

Bored and withering up like this tree

The lack of rain has taken its toll on the vegetation in my yard. I have watered this tree repeatedly, but as you can tell, my efforts seem futile. It's weird, though, that this tree is the only one that is suffering to this degree. The grass looks pretty bad, too. I last mowed the yard nearly three weeks ago. Husband mowed a little yesterday, but it didn't seem all that necessary.

Life since school has been out has been extremely slow. I have been doing some housework that needed to be done, and I've been putting off some tasks that I know will be very boring. It's sort of ironic, though, that I fear that August will come much sooner than I'd like.

I"ve been reading some. I read a book called The Faith and the Power. It's a history of the time between the crucifiction and the destruction of Jerusalem. Very interesting. Then I started a mystery novel that I picked up for a dollar a couple of weeks ago, but I'm having trouble getting into it.

I have not listened to very much news. It seems that every time I turn it on, it's the same stuff. I'm tired of hearing about Paris Hilton. The story about the tuburculosis guy was mildly interesting. I don't care about hearing from the presidential candidates because I don't see much point in following them this early in the game. Besides, the media will choose the top two in each party and that will be that.

I have not posted in over a week because I have nothing to say. The problem is I still want to blog. I like writing. Someone please give me a writing assignment.

No Worries

Medical researchers are constantly learning new things about our bodies, disease, and what is good or not good for us. However, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, much of the information that we hear about how to maintain good health is contradictory. For instance, foods like chocolate, coffee, and wine have both benefits and drawbacks. How do we know how much we can have and receive the benefits without the harmful effects? We’re constantly told that we need to keep our cholesterol low, but this morning I heard that people who have low cholesterol are at higher risk for Parkinson’s disease. So now all those people who were afraid of heart disease and did all they could to lower their cholesterol are now afraid that they’ll get Parkinson’s because their cholesterol is too low.

It’s really frustrating to constantly hear all this changing information. It’s confusing. The media purport to give us all this information so that we’ll stay informed, but the real result is that we’re just confused. We’re afraid and confused. We’re afraid of the bad things that might happen to us, and we’re confused about how to prevent those bad things. This causes us to worry which, in turn, has a negative impact on our health. We’d be much better off if we stopped listening to the media reports about what may or may not be good for us and quit worrying about the diseases that may or may not afflict us.

Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ ^For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ^But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. ^Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble (Matt. 6.31-4).

The Nutcracker Suite

Yesterday, my morning began with something I have been dreading for nearly two months. My gynecologist, whom I have known since fifth grade, is a very good doctor, and she always makes me feel good about what I’m doing to take care of myself. However, when she wants to prod me into doing more (for instance, exercising more), she has a way of using the pronoun we instead of you. She likes to use phrases such as “We’ve reached that age. . .” and “At our age, we really need to. . . .” So, at my visit with her early last month, it was with this tactic that she persuaded me to undergo my first mammogram. She assured me that it wasn’t really all that bad and that she didn’t dislike it nearly as much as that other part of the yearly checkup. I wasn’t exactly convinced, but I decided to go along with it.

Some man who hates women must have invented this torturous procedure. While it didn’t hurt as badly as I imagined it could have, I have nonetheless decided that I will likely not do it again. Surely, a monthly self exam is good enough. If a self exam is good enough for men—you know, guys, that you should examine your testicles periodically—then it should be good enough for women. However, if the medical establishment insists that an x-ray image of the breast is the best way to detect those little breast cancers early, then it stands to reason that men would need to detect testicular cancer early using the same method. In fact, in the interest of promoting healthy families, couples could make appointments together, and her mammogram and his “testigram” could be done at the same time, in the same room even. First the wife could have her mammogram, and then the husband could get his testigram done on the same machine. Besides being a great bonding experience, it would be very practical to do them together because after the exam, the wife would have to push the man back to the car in a wheelchair and drive him home.

On second thought, maybe that much togetherness is not a good idea. After all, when you have to go through a mammogram first thing in the morning, the last thing you want to do is take care of an incapacitated man that afternoon. No, a day of shopping and a nice lunch is a great reward after the torture of the morning.

For What it's Worth

Recently, Husband decided that he wanted a new car. I told him that he could have one if he stops doing hay in the summers and sells his hay equipment. He agreed, and while we have sold some of his stuff, we still have for sale a John Deere 735 MoCo (mower conditioner). (If you are aware of someone who needs some hay equipment, I'll be happy to point you to the ad.)

I sort of thought that we'd sell all the equipment and then buy the car, but I guess men don't work that way when they want a new car.

I became interested in the Mustang when the new body style--a real, honest retro style--came out a couple of years ago. I dragged Husband to a dealership right after they came out because I just wanted to see one up close--I appreciate a beautiful car, and the new Mustang is a beautiful car. I had no thoughts of buying one. Husband, however, got the fever, and though it subsided, he never quite got over it, and a couple of months ago, I broke down and made the deal with him.

Now when Husband decides to do something, he does it all the way. The way he thinks, if he's gonna spend the money to get something, he might as well get exactly what he wants the first time. He does his research, and in all the time I've known him, he's never made any bad deals. This time has been no exception; however, I think we both got a bit more than we bargained for when we bought this car.

He picked out a Roush 427 Mustang. This car is a real head turner. No more than fifteen minutes after we'd driven away from the dealership, a guy yelled at us with admiration for our car and took our picture as he drove alongside us. Later on down the road, some young kid parked on the side of the road with his souped up Honda gave us two thumbs up and then bowed in a posture of worship. We laughed and laughed. Whenever we go out to eat, we see men stop and inspect the car and sometimes take pictures. It's absolutely amazing.

I can't help but wonder what people think of the owners of this car. To me, it's a pretty car, and it's fun to ride around in it. But many people attach a lot more to ownership of a car and make judgments about people by the cars that they drive. I've done it plenty of times myself. I know better than to do that now. While some cars are more aesthetically pleasing than others, they all have one thing in common: They are all a hunk of metal that get their drivers from one place to another. We get into trouble when we begin to measure the worth of a person by the value of his automobile, or house, or clothing, or any other material possession and think that the person who has the more beautiful possessions is the more valuable person. Possessions can be fun, but their value is only in the eye of the beholder.

I See London, I See France. . .

If I see one more news announcer holding up a pair of granny panties and saying "poor Paris" I'm gonna scream.

Of course, it would be punishment enough for her just to wear granny panties without going to jail.

School's Out!

I have a big stack of papers to grade, but after I'm done, I'll be free until mid-August to do whatever I want.

Having to read so many essays during the school year doesn't allow me much time to read what I want to read, and by the time summer arrives, I've forgotten about all the books I've heard of during the previous months that I thought I might like to read. So if you have any suggestions for my summer reading list, I'll be glad to hear them.

Could it Have Been Prevented?

The young man who killed all those people at Virginia Tech was obviously a very troubled individual. News stories have portrayed him as a loner, someone who didn't have close friends. Students who knew him said that when they would speak to him, he'd stare right through them without saying a word. Perhaps we'll learn about his past as time wears on--I wonder what he went through to make him end up the way he was?

When we encounter people who are obviously very troubled, how are we to respond? How do you reach out to a person who no longer wants to be reached out to? Is a person ever too far gone to be helped by another human being?

If you look at all these school shootings, it seems that it was always the "weird" loner who perpetrated the crime. Have we been guilty of contributing to their weirdness? Have we ever not taken the time to become friendly with weird people because it's just so much trouble to try to relate to them? We need to do our part to make all people feel like they are treasured; otherwise we run the risk of helping to drive some people to commit these desperate acts. Jesus hung out with the social outcasts of his day, and we need to not be afraid to do the same. Perhaps we might help to save a life.

Checking In

I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately, but I've been swamped at work, and the time I haven't been working, I've just not felt like blogging much. I still have lots to say, but just no time or energy to say it.

I did take some time for an outing with my mom last week. We went to a spa and had a massage and a facial. It was my first time, and it was GREAT! I can't believe I waited so long to get a massage--I won't wait that long again. When I get done grading all the reasearch papers I'll be collecting very soon, I'll probably go again.

Y'all have a wonderful day!