Bringing out the inner child

So, I need to put my arm in a sling.  I need several padded bandages and some multi-antibiotic too.  I really should have soaked my hand in Epsom salts and generally doused it with hydrogen peroxide, too.  Why?  WHY YOU ASK?  Well hell, I had a splinter!  It doesn't matter that the wedge of wood in my thumb was only a millimeter long--it HURT! And my wife, Maryann, spent a good chunk of time digging it out with a needle.  OWWW!!!

There's nothing like a splinter to bring out the inner child.
I'm generally pretty tough--I rarely wear gloves when I do the myriad of chores that face me daily, I split wood and cut down trees bare-handed.  My hands are the calloused hands of a workman.  I rarely will wear gloves when I'm working with fiberglass insulation.  A splinter in one of my fingers and especially near the joint will bring me down rather quickly.

Splinters are just plain yucky.  In my case, most often, they are pieces of wood from fencing or firewood.  Other folks get slivers of glass, fiberglass, thorns, bone, even the needles of a cactus.  It doesn't matter, they are all painful and all need to be removed.  Of course the ones I get manage to dig themselves into my skin deeply enough that minor surgery is almost always called for.

The technical definition of a splinter is "a foreign body under the skin." Well "duh".  And some of the online remedies-"Squeeze a little Elmer's Glue, wait for it to dry and peel it off, taking the splinter with it." Pah!  That might work for a wimpy little splinter with its end sticking out.  Knowing me, since I can't find Elmer's Glue here in the house, I'd use Gorilla Glue and rip off all the skin down to the bone!

I remember getting some splinters--they were tiny (TINY) needles from a prickly pear plant that a friend in Arizona was giving me cuttings from.  She warned me about the little needles and I told her I'd be careful.  Well...I tried.  I had those invisible cacti needles in my fingers.  And on the palm of my hand.  And on my forearm.  They were hardly noticeable--at first. My daughter was with me.  We packed the cactus cuttings into the camper and headed for Texas.  I tried pulling those needles out of my hand because they were moderately annoying. By the time we got to the interstate I discovered I was fighting a losing battle. AND THEN I PUT MY HAND DOWN TO MY THIGH!  OWW!!!!!!  On both legs there was a patch of sticky things sticking out.  A few got into the fleshy part of my hand but the rest--well, it felt like I hammered them into my leg!!!  That's about when I discovered that the tweezers we bought at the truck stop were useless.  I changed out of those jeans pretty quickly, putting on shorts, and saw two good sized, err prickly pear cladodes (that's what the flat plant part of the prickly pear is called) impressions--one on each leg.  Found another use for duct tape--yep, it pulled a lot of those needles out but a week later, there were all sorts of puffy "pimples" on my thighs and arms where the needles had worked their way in.
OWWW!!!.

Oh and worse, we forgot we put the cactus cuttings in the oven...they got cooked in the camper heat over the next month--my bad.  Maybe it's a good thing---can you imagine peeling THIS fruit?
That was probably the worse case of splinters I ever had (you mean splinters are a disease?).

I'm not really a weenie...and usually splinters don't bother me much.  I get them a lot.  As long as they are stuck in my right hand, I'm okay (left-hander here).  I take them out--or not.  But there are times.... The only thing worse for me is a toothache, but that's another blog.

Some people do...the best people TEACH

ON Soapbox:

In my miniscule view of the universe and politics I'm basically a conservative independent. I make my opinions based on what I have learned, read, and seen in this world we live in.  I've had the privilege of being educated over the years in parochial schools for 10 years, a private university for several more and a couple of public institutions.  I taught for a number of years in the same grouping as well as a one-roomed schoolhouse with grades K-12 all together (what a wonderful memory).

Over the years I have watched my children, all of them, either succeed or fail depending on their motivation (sadly,  most of those young people came to me too late to try to instill a love of learning) mostly in the public school system here in the US.

As a teacher, I have literally worked for nothing and not much.  My idealistic thoughts that I can make a difference remain even today.  I see my local school system rake in $13,000 or more PER STUDENT from taxes and the federal government.  In Oregon, the average starting salary for a teacher, $33k + is nearly 6 times more than I started and the average teacher salary is around $51k.  No one is getting rich from teaching.  But with around 3200 students in the district, WHAT is that money (41,600,000 + dollars a year) going to?

Public School Spending-a black hole?

Granted a lot of that funding goes to salaries and building maintenance and upkeep.  Giving students a safe place to learn and to have qualified staff to teach them is of utmost importance.  Like most school systems the administration is over heavy but the lawns around the school are green and of course, the sports facilities are the best that can be bought.

When I was applying for my first teaching job, one of the first questions asked was, "What sport can you coach?"    Was I to be honest and say, "None? But I can coach drama, and speech, and debating."  Needless to say, I pounded a lot of pavement before I became the only male teacher on a faculty who didn't coach a sport.  AND I became very unpopular among other teachers when I refused to take into consideration "the big game" when I handed out students' grades--education was more important to me.

And that last six words are the crux of this epistle--education was more important to me.

It was only towards the end of my public school career that I joined the teachers' union.  There was a rather spirited debate going on regarding salaries and benefits for the teachers.  I joined because I supported the "good teachers" in the district, the ones who cared for the kids and who thought that their education was their highest priority.

I said above that no one is getting rich from teaching.  Good teachers deserve to receive compensation for the knowledge they share with their students and the skill they use to help those kids learn what is necessary.  Frankly, in my mind, a good teacher should be treated like a good doctor--they are THAT important to our young people--and should be paid accordingly.

Unfortunately, good teachers (note I keep repeating that) are treated no differently than bad teachers. Most school systems can't recognize the good teachers.  Most school systems can't fire a bad teacher.  Historically, very, very few teachers have been fired by any public system and that's because the unions have iron-clad contracts protecting the teachers--all of them.  After two years, a public school teacher receives tenure and it takes an act of God to fire them (or lewd/malicious behavior).  The unions are there to protect the teachers...period.  They recognize what a teacher's task is but in no uncertain terms.  Indeed, when a top NEA lawyer (Bob Chanin)  retired in 2009, his parting address included the following :

“Despite what some among us would like to believe it is not because of our creative ideas. It is not because of the merit of our positions. It is not because we care about children and it is not because we have a vision of a great public school for every child. NEA and its affiliates are effective advocates because we have power."

I have no union-busting bones in my body but I have a love for education and learning and most importantly, children.  It seems from the above that the National Education Association doesn't quite have the same loves in mind.  My daughter has been in a Christian school for most of her young life.  Her teachers all work for a fraction of what their counterparts in the public schools receive.  Her education has been of the highest quality and her standardized scores for the most part have been considerably higher than her public school peers--and my daughter isn't brilliant by any means, she's a bright, average student who has had good teachers.  

Tuitions in the best private schools in this region are considerably lower than what our county gets per kid, for the most part.   The difference is in the people who teach these youngsters--they are there for the children and every day set out to teach them to the best of their ability. Their idealism and zeal remain because they don't have to spend 15 minutes of every 45 dealing with bureaucracy and they are doing what they love, teaching. The majority of the teachers give their students their home/cell phone numbers in case there is a problem. The facilities are safe and most do have sport programs as well as other extra-curricular activities.

County school systems lose huge numbers of students to home-schooling because parents have lost faith in the system (although they still receive dollars for each of those home-schooled kids).  How many more students would be lost if some sort of voucher system was in place so that more parents could send their children to private schools of any sort--how many students have already been lost to Charter Schools which are basically independent from the county system and exist because parents and good teachers care? How many of the good teachers in the public schools would go to the alternatives just because the idealism of putting students first would attract them?

Good teachers teach.  They are one of the most important links in our young peoples' lives to the world...to the future.  Let's reward those good teachers somehow--that apple on the desk is great but it's only good for one meal!

Getting off of soapbox now!

Early Morning Mistaken Identity-not one of ours

January 13, 2012,   3:15 AM , Powell Butte, OR

A local miniature horse and pony ranch in Powell Butte received a knock on their front door in the wee hours of this cold morning.  The dogs were going nuts and there was a uniformed State Trooper on the other side of the door.

"There is a little horse loose on the highway," the trooper told the groggy lady of the house.  The husband, Larry, came stumbling out of the bedroom and heard the news. "I'll go up in the van," he said.

Shaking sleep, he  drove up the road to the highway intersection just as a pinto little horse ran by him, turning alongside the old minivan.   Larry drove up to the state trooper and was informed that was the only horse that he had seen.

Making an illegal u-turn on the empty highway, Larry drove back down to his property.  Thinking about the horse, Larry went "hmm" to himself.  "Wonder what horse that is?"

The horse went into the first of the two driveways...and was harassing another horse in his pen.

"Son of a gun," Larry thought, "that isn't one of ours" and told the trooper as much.  This was a stallion that was sold off the property as a baby and sold and resold until he ended up at a thoroughbred ranch across the highway.  For once, Miniature Ventures did NOT have any loose horses.

After briefly considering walking the little guy back up to where he belonged, the sleepy couple told the trooper they'd put him in the barn and get him home in the daylight--which the trooper heartily approved of.  The three pushed the little stallion into the barn and the officer took off down the road--rather too fast.  Larry and Maryann gave the horse hay and water and went back to bed.

Around 10 in the morning, a  young fellow stopped by Miniature Ventures to ask if we'd seen a missing horse.  When Larry took him to the barn to show him the truant stallion, a big smile came to the fellow's face and said, yes, that's Puddles.  No question about it,no one would name a STALLION that, it was his animal.

"Puddles was born at Miniature Ventures five years ago, literally in a puddle of water," said Larry.  "He's been through a number of owners until he ended up at the ranch across the street as a "teaser" stallion for the thoroughbreds (always the bridesmaid :-) ).  Puddles has often been seen staring across the highway looking at the mares.  I'm not sure how happy he is but he decided to come home for a little bit."

Puddles as a young foal

Puddles was walked back to his ranch, none the worse for wear, having to pass forty miniature mares.  How happy he was going back to his own place, Larry and Maryann weren't sure.  But at least his keepers were smiling.  Little horses have an endearing quality to them and Puddles is not lacking in that at all.

Unfortunately, we NEED winter weather!

Let me see, it's January 11.  That means we're twenty plus days into winter.  For really the first time since winter solstice, it felt like winter.  The temperature never reached 30°.

For this area, that's a normal temperature reading.  BUT I prefer the weather of a couple of days ago when I was working outside wearing just a t-shirt --no jacket-- and jeans.

We need winter weather here, much as I hate to admit it.  On the ski slopes of nearby Mt. Bachelor, there's not even 4' of standing snow and only a total of 90" over the whole season so far.  Snow pack in the mountains is what feeds our rivers and from the rivers comes the irrigation water that is so crucial to turn this high desert area into the lush agricultural region that it is.  Generally, over the course of a typical winter, more than 20 feet of the white stuff falls in the mountains.  The slow melt of that is what feeds the rivers and ultimately our aquifers and irrigation ditches.

I read a description this morning of the reasons behind this warmer weather we and much of the US is having--indeed, last week more than 1000 high temperature records were broken.   It has much to do with a La Nina effect and jet stream flow.  I'm not going to describe it here but if you're interested, here's the link http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2012/01/11/this-winters-weirdly-warm-weather-explained/  .  The story basically says that the combination (and mostly the jet stream flows) have blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) the winter weather thus far. The story does say that things are lining up to change some and fairly soon.

Winter around here, especially cold temperature winter, generally means lots of ice breaking ( or trough heaters on timers) to keep the horses watered.  We have yet to turn on our trough heaters (the eleven we use really push the electric bill up).  I would love to get through the winter without them.   It also means breaking ice in at least one of the ponds for the same reason.  We have one field with about 25 horses and some are too lazy to come in to the three troughs we have set aside for them.

Most of the past few years, we have had frozen pipes under the house, too.  With luck, that has been remedied with replacement and moving of the mains.  All I can do is keep my fingers crossed about that.  In all the years of my life, we've only lived in one other place that wasn't connected to a city water system.  That was a well but here we have a 20,000 gallon cistern that we have water delivered into regularly.  Because of the economy, we don't fill that cistern very often.  It's sort of like getting oil delivered except we get the entire load carried in--it would take five plus water trucks to fill the cistern and with a new delivery man, it's not quite as bad as filling an oil tank but still expensive.  The cistern, because it's not filled, is subject to freezing, too---so we walk a narrow path and add our toes to those fingers crossed I mention above.  Funny, winter is all about water for us.

Our cistern and our old water man, Ron

We have around 70 horses here and most are either miniatures or ponies.  People often ask us how the animals deal with the sometimes brutal weather we have.   Well, they do very well.  In twenty-one years of raising horses, we've only lost one specifically because of the weather and that was a freak accident: a youngster who was running, slipped on the ice, skidded into a water trough and broke his neck--while we watched.   It was awful.   Other than that one instance, as long as the critters have access to water and are fed, they do fine.  At 30°, they are much more comfortable than at 80°.  We no longer provide shelter for most of them because we've learned they don't use it except for a wind break.  In our last place, we had many shelters and the horses only used them as over-large poop boxes.   Nature gave them thick coats and long hair in the sensitive places and as long as we don't have windy, icy rain, we rarely see an animal shiver--even the babies.  Those winter woolies keep them toasty.  They all have trees to break the wind and when it is forecast to be really cold, we double up their hay---they are happy.

So for us and the horses...here's hoping that we have tons of snow in the mountains, that will keep the skiers happy and us too.  It can stay up there. And if the days would get to 40° regularly on the ranch, then I'll be happy.  Working outside is so much more pleasant when the sun is shining and I don't need gloves and hats and boots and heavy outerwear.

Things sure have changed

Most of us have seen this or something like it:

How did we survive 50 years ago?

We drank water from the tap not a bottle and nobody knew about the dangers of lead poisoning so even cribs were painted with brightly colored lead based paint. Medicine and Bottles with tablets did not have child proof lids...No seat belts or air bags in cars, nobody knew or if they did told our parents smoking and drinking was bad for the baby...kids shared coke from one bottle, soda had masses of sugar and we ate real white bread and butter and everything else including full fat milk that we are now told is bad for you .....

There were no cell phones ...we all stayed out until the street lights came on, playing then we'd go home because we were told to.  If we got in trouble, chances are we'd get a thrashing and if we messed up in school or talked back to a teacher, we'd get the same. 

So we got a cut or a bruise, we never saw the inside of a hospital.   We didn't have video games but we could play for hours making a a go-cart, or a tree swing, or even a tree house.   We played ball with whatever kind of ball we could find and usually played in the street or in that empty lot next door.  We swam during the summer where ever there was water and it it wasn't clean, we just didn't swallow it.  

We rode our bikes with no helmets and  if we didn't make the team it was because we just weren't good enough and that was that.

But most of all, we were allowed to be kids...to dream, invent and to play.  It's no wonder that the generation that grew up then created some of the most innovative and exciting technology we have today Thanks for those years and all those "BAD THINGS" that is why we are who we are today. 

I was thinking about this today.  My daughter got sick last night and threw up.  She told her Mom she was sick and couldn't go to school.  At around 11:00 AM she came to me and told me she was sick, too sick to go to ag class but was going to just stay home and work on her online schooling.  An hour later she was yakking on the phone, texting friends and looking pretty good to me.  I know I'd never have gotten away with that.

I remember, it was early in my junior year of high school.  I attended a Catholic school in the "not the best area" of Boston.  Getting to school meant a bus, two different elevated commuter trains and a half mile walk.  One day,  I called the school from the train station and told them I was my Dad and that Larry was sick.  What was I thinking?  They took down the information and proceeded to call my Mom.  uh-huh.  I spent the day hanging around the local public school (two elevated commuter trains and a bus ride back).  Had a great day visiting with friends and I went home about the normal time.  Uh-huh.  I walked in the door and Mom exploded in her quiet way...yeah, "Wait until your Dad gets home!"  By the time he got to the room I was in after he arrived, he already had his belt off.  Yep, there were tears.  And then the next morning with my Dad at my side we visited my school--where I was promptly expelled.  Boy, I wasn't proud at all...and I wasn't sitting real good, either.

Fifty years ago, forty, thirty or even twenty,  things were different.  We learned from the school of life and we created the lives we have.   At least in my sphere, things weren't handed to me (I had my first real "paying job" when I was fourteen.  That job was in a Mozzarella cheese factory and I had to give some of my money to my Mom).  I saved up for and bought my first car and paid the insurance myself.  I ultimately worked my way through college with minimal student loans.  I even sold my Ford Mustang (1965) to fly to Portland to get married.  I did---WE ALL DID things for ourselves.  And we were proud.

Things have sure changed.   Unfortunately, it is WE that created this new generation.

P.S.  I really REALLY do know some neat young people.  This is NOT a slam at them at all.

Poetry by any other name

I have degrees in English and taught it for many years.   Bri had an assignment to do--she had to write a "Bio-Poem" to show that she recognized parts of speech.  I said, "huh?"   Never heard of a Bio-poem before.

Before she let me read the assignment, she just told me she had to write a poem (from where I come from in the Boston area, that's pronounced "poam").  Then she told me she didn't know how to write one---hmmm...teacher in me kicked in and I was telling her a step by step way to write one---then she hit me with the Bio-poem stuff.

Well, it turns out a Bio-Poem is an eleven line poem with a specific formula:

(First name)-

(Four adjectives that describe the person)

Son or Daughter of (your parents names)

Lover of (three different things that the person loves)

Who feels (three different feelings and when or where they are felt)

Who gives (three different things the person gives)

Who fears (three different fears the person has)

Who would like to see (three different things the person would like to see)

Who lives (a brief description of where the person lives)

-(last name) 

Who knew?  But the funny thing is that it wasn't that much different than what I was going to tell her to do, I just didn't know it had a name.   Here's my bio poem:

Larry

Short, grey-haired, smiling, and exciteable

Son of Americo and Eleanor

Lover of stars, muted colors, and friendly faces

Who feels weary right now, scatter-brained very often and optimistic about the future.

Who would like to see the ocean soon, the Greek Isles someday, and Peace, just peace.

Who lives on a ranch in Powell Butte, OR

Cerullo

Pretty elementary and simple to do.   I was going to have Bri build a poem based on just words but in a similar form:

one

two words

three words now

now write four words

back to three

then two

one

I often had freshmen students write a poem such as the above--here's an example.

Larry

Getting older

Still has horses
Looking forward to babies
coming in April.
They are
FUN.


There was no specific formula for that obviously.  I had many excited kids AND adults, when I taught adult classes, who were able to produce a poem and it had visual appeal.  Try these with your kids or even your friends.  They might roll their eyes when you introduce it but that will change, I almost guarantee it. 

LOTR again - over and out

This morning I completed my reread of J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece, Lord of the Rings, which some have called the "greatest literary work of the 20th century."

As I've stated elsewhere, this is my fortieth/fiftieth/sixtieth or more reading of these three books.  I really don't know, I've lost count and there really is no purpose in counting.  I read it every year on purpose and because I want to.  As is my wont after completing a book or a series, I looked up certain aspects of these three not so little books.  My purpose, this time, was to research what people had to say about the ending of the series...and I really was left wanting.   Little has been written at all--at least not that I could find.

Most authors end a book on a note that will push their readers to read more of that author.  Even blog writers do that.  Tolkien didn't.  He had no intention of writing a sequel to the series and was relieved when it was done.  His time was better spent writing about the "back story" as far as he was concerned.  Professionally, Tolkien was consumed by Germanic, Nordic and Celtic mythologies.  His Middle Earth was a contemporary mythology with a firm foundation in those he studied.  Writing his "back story" filled in the mythology from creation to the day Frodo sailed away from Middle Earth.  Indeed, regarding a sequel to the tale, Tolkien in his own Letters said that : 

    "I did begin a story placed about 100 years after the Downfall of Mordor, but it proved both sinister  and depressing. Since we are dealing with men it is inevitable that we should be concerned with the most regrettable feature of their nature: their quick satiety with good. So that the people of Gondor in times of peace, justice, and prosperity, would be become discontented and restless -- while the dynasts descended from Aragorn would become just kings and governors -- like Denethor or worse... Not worth doing." (J.R.R. Tolkien, Letters, #256, to Colin Bailey)


We are stuck (stuck?) with 1200 pages, a massive appendix, and a series of hopeless heroes (hopeless as in lack of hope). We must remember that Lord of the Rings ends at the beginning of the fourth age, the Age of Men.  So, in a way, these books are a part of our pre-history and we are living the sequel!


The ending of the tale of Middle Earth left me wanting...unlike Peter Jackson's movies.  But the journey to the end and the surprise offered to us by our main protagonist, Frodo, at the edge of the fires of Mount Doom (it only took me sixty readings to really digest that surprise) was and IS certainly worth it. The book, although it should have ended with Frodo's departure, COULD have ended with Frodo's statement,  when he was lying on his bed clutching the gem given to him by Arwen and ill from his horrific past wounds, "It is gone forever," he said, "and now all is dark and empty." (talk about an awkward sentence!)

Instead we see Sam returning to his family.  We have a hint he will follow Frodo but it's not likely.  BUT Tolkien's last words of the three books, perhaps is the reason why I (as so many others) make it a yearly tradition to read these books.  But don't just look up the ending, it's the journey that counts!

I won't be writing again about Lord of the Rings--at least not until NEXT YEAR! :D

An addendum to the above:

I will watch the magnificent epic group of films brought to us by Peter Jackson.  I will gnash my teeth about what he left out and what he added. I will rue the day, however, that I first watched them.  Too many characters faces are now firmly planted with the stars of the movie.  I'm not sure I'm happy with that at all.  I like to let my mind create the faces and the characters--now they are all too real!

Bilbo smoking a pipe

Bilbo smoking a pipe