Pigs, Math, and Shared Rides

(From "Loonville" series. Tweaked and recycled.)From my new residence, it was a twelve-mile drive to my place of employment. After a year in the elementary school, I transferred to the junior high to teach mathematics. Marie's classroom was across the hall from mine. She taught English to the seventh and eighth graders who were our charges. This lady was the same age as my mother. We worked together for five years until I left the community, and she still had several good years before her retirement.

We soon figured out that a good bit of gas (read: money) could be saved if we were to share rides to work, as we lived only three miles apart, and we were both a dozen miles from school. Thus, we alternated weeks, stopping by one another's house to pick up and drop off the passenger.

The farm of Jim Griggs was located along our route to school. The pigster had posted a large, yet tastefully done, sign at the entry to his property.

-------------Griggs' Pigs------------



----------Hampshire----- Poland China---------
Marie, in her typically pedantic manner, was offended by the sign, for she claimed the apostrophe usage was incorrect, and the sign should read "Griggs's Pigs." I allowed that that would destroy both the rhyme and the lilt, and should therefore read "Griggs's Pigses." Marie was not amused.

There was a saying amongst school people at the time that "every teacher should be an English teacher." But not all English teachers are so willing to share the responsibility. I had occasion, created an occasion, once in a seventh grade math class to assert that "ain't" was a valid word in the language, and that it could be correctly used. "Ain't I" is a contraction for the phrase "am I not" and may be used in a construction as follows: "I am going to town with you, ain't I?" This was reported by my students to the English teacher, who in turn sent a message back to me, telling the kids to tell me that she "will teach English, and Mr. Lacy should stick to arithmetic."
© 2010 David W. Lacy

Teacher Again, in Memory

(For the next few days you will find recycled posts on String Too Short to Tie. Each may be modified somewhat from the original. This will give me time to think through some issues, including whether or not to continue with this platform.)
I recently had a flashback to my days in front of the classroom. I recalled this incident.

Last period of the day. Eighth grade math class. This group is the "band section." It has been demonstrated that there is a positive correlation between musical ability and math ability, which is to say this was a bright bunch of kids, but disadvantaged by being in a last period class. That is, the kids, and the teacher, had already been through six other class periods.

Keeping the attention a top priority, the teacher is performing brilliantly. In the course of the exposition, he makes a statement that inspires Jack to inquire about an issue that does not bear directly on the lesson, but it is related to the topic. Teach understands that this is a valid question and responds, and I quote, "I don't know right off-hand, but I have that information in my drawers. Give me a chance to look for it."

No reaction, except that I note that fourth seat back, far right hand row, Jane has a wicked sparkle in her eye and the formation of the grin on her face tells me she is about to let go. I make eye contact with her, hard stare, glower as if silently to say, If you do, you're dead. She relaxed, I relaxed and proceeded with the lesson.

This has been one of my favorite "teacher" stories over the years. Were I to meet Jane somewhere today, she would be sixty years of age and probably would have absolutely no memory of this incident. And I would not remind her.

Be of Good Courage (Reminder)

(Modified and recycled post.)
I am not a doom-and-gloomer, but I am no Pollyanna, either. Things look dark indeed. Yet the cliche would assure us that it is always "darkest just before the dawn." I don't see that as a hopeful expectation, either, because it might be the case that it is not yet "darkest" and things may get worse before they get better.



Setting aside economic circumstances, political division, and rampant nonsense, he or she who commits it all to God and walks with Jesus may suffer from the ills and vicissitudes of life, but yet will not be overwhelmed by them. We will walk in peace with God, in spite of the swirling and raging storm without!



The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?...

Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD. Psalm 27

Tapped Out

Creative juices, limited as they are at most times, are simply not flowing at all today. Laundry: sorted, done, folded, put away. Lunch: eaten. Nap: taken. And now, a lazy evening. Life's good.

So, then. What of the blog? Well, someone stole someone's cartoon and posted it on facebook, so I cobbed it and re-release it here for your amusement. Though in some ways I find it less than funny, because I hate it when I find an undershot installation.

Have a great Saturday!

Citrus and Vinyl

Oh, the birds and the bees in the citrus trees tempting me to juicy fruit (Wrigley’s does not own that term!). We have sampled oranges and grapefruit from outside our window; and today BBBH came in wagging a hatful of tangerines from the north end of the park. As you can see, these particular fruit are very small, about an inch-and-a-half in diameter, but oh, what juicy flavor is contained within!

Later in the day in the south end of the park, I plucked a lemon, one of the smaller ones on the tree, which is almost perfectly spherical and just a bit over three inches in diameter.


A trip to the flea market at DonWes netted me two vinyl albums, one by Bonnie Raitt, the other by Cat Stevens. Not a bad haul for an hour of roaming through the aisles of stuff. As I was standing in front of the junk pile that was actually the one where I found these albums, I remarked to Don that it would be a real favor to everybody if the entire pile of stuff were given a home in a landfill. This elicited laughter from passers-by, from the vendor not so much, and then I found these treasures there. Who knows what languishes in a heap of trash? The vendor knows!

137 Drops of Rain

At four in the morning I awakened
My heart leaped with joy and was taken
with delight, for on the rooftop were drops
of rain! What a joyous night
that there should fall
this blessing for us all!
But one could almost count before it stopped
the raindrops as they plopped
upon the roof. 137 drops of rain
Would not ease the Earth’s pain.
We cry out, “Oh, Lord, give us water,”
But all is quiet now. Will it rain later?

We winter Texans love the sun,
Enjoy the warmth, have lots of fun.
But true Texans who wrest their living from the soil
Or feed their families by honest toil
Need rain most desperately, Lord,
Would you grant us, is our prayer,
A freshening downpour, we are in your care!

We Are Entertained

Monday night’s entertainment was provided by the Edinburg Parks and Recreation program for youngsters. The Folklorico Dancers performed for an hour and kept the audience riveted every moment. These kids, aged eight to eighteen, perform authentic Mexican dances. They are internationally recognized, and have won both national and international competitions. They have performed in such diverse places as Los Angeles, Honolulu, and in two different Brazilian cities.
Apart from the energy level these youngsters display, the stamina and the talent they have nurtured, one has to reflect on the fact that these children also live ordinary day-to-day lives, attending school and doing what kids do. Participation is strictly voluntary (unless there is some parent with a cudgel in the background!) The practice time has to be an intense demand on each individual.
It was an hour well-spent; and it was the second time I have witnessed a performance by the group, though some individuals have moved on to adulthood since I last saw them perform, and some new tykes have been added.

The Year's Worst Day

Dr. Cliff Arnall of University of Cardiff (Wales) calculates that this is the worst day of the year as it applies to people's feelings, I guess about themselves and life in general. The unfortunate thing is that any day of the year is a bad day if one allows it to be. Professor Arnall has devised a mathematical-looking formula which one suspects has less to do with mathematics than it has to do with his endeavor to support a personal postulalte; but what do I know? He evidently sells his wisdom and knowledge to people in the tourism business, because it is when people are at their lowest that they are most likely to splurge on tickets, presumably to take them out of their misery.

It has been my observation that one can buy tickets to different geographic locales, but in all likelihood, if one is miserable, he will take his troubles along with him.

Here is a link to the article I read. Do the math if you like.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6847012/ns/world_news/t/jan-called-worst-day-year/

Meanwhile, happy Doldrums! Now there's an oxymoron.

(As BBBH says, Find a need and fill it...)