Cheaters lack Vision

Well; the students got a glimpse of me today they weren't expecting. Aaaannnnddddd; probably didn't want to see.
Happy Monday morning, luvs.
I love teaching; not instructing; teaching. I want my students to learn. Not memorize, but take the material and tuck it away so that it becomes useful, workable part of them.
Workable being the operative word. I'd like to prepare them for employment; for a career. And so I trudge along; pulling and tugging and yanking and fussing and yammering and picking.
For the most part; they claim to enjoy the class time. And there are some giggles. Especially on Wednesdays. Ah, the mornings after I've pulled a 12 hr. night shift and then bounced into the classroom to teach classes until noon.
For the most part; we go thru at warp speed and get to it. A stumble or 2, but there you are.
And for the most part; they are good, good kids. For the most part.
Today .... they got a good scolding. That they weren't prepared for and were surprised by and wound up being a bit afraid of.
Sorry about that bad English stuff.
On no uncertain terms; the law went down. The tattle tellers had blown some covers. Oops. We defined the parameters, the boundaries, and the rules.
Oh, and the consequences if all was not followed.
They didn't care for that part. Not a bit; not one bit. But part of being an adult means acting like one and there you are. Gotta grow up and gotta abide by the rules and all that ... stuff.
It sucks man; just sucks.
You could tell the culprits right away. I pretty much had my 'spitions. There are always those tell-tell signs, the tattle-tellers had confirmed it and the nervous twitching gave it away.
They knew they'd been made.
2, I busted outright. Ohmigod. It didn't get ugly, but it got serious. Oh, we were definitely business. Strictly business.
That they had never seen me like "this" was daunting for them.
Oh; well.
Some times ya just gotta shake it up.
So let's see how this goes. There's a new girl in town. And she insists that her people have integrity. Be honest. Follow the rules.
Or they can take their take-home-exams that they slogged thru in 4-5 hours and learn from; in 30-45 minutes in class. Oh, it will still be open book; but I defy them to do as well.
And they know; they'll sink like a rock. Not just grade wise; but that they won't learn as well. They know that they are learning; actually learning from my methodology.
Even my star pupil, said the fastest time he's logged has been 2 1/2 hours.
I woke them up this morning. Didn't even need coffee to do it.
Tough.
Open your eyes kids and look around. See things the way they really are; the world isn't for corner cutters and losers.
The world is for those with vision and ability.
Those that can see their way forward and follow the path.
OnceAgain

Wills

It's been a while. A long while since I've had time to post. Sorry about that. There's just been so very much going on. And on.
How many jobs do I have now? 3? 4? Hell; I've lost frickin' count. Not that it matters. I've not been doing any of them at my usual 110%.
'Tis hard to give anything your all; when you're so tired all the time.
Good news? I'm into my size 4 jeans again.
Bad news? I wasn't on a diet to get down a size or 2 to get into them.
Stress will do that to ya; beat the livin' day lights outa ya and turn your insides out.
Did I mention the hair loss I've been experiencing? Yep; got that, too.
Not in handfuls or anything, just noticing that I'm shedding more than the damn cat. Charley's a jealous boy. And when the Himalayan's getting green with envy because you leave more fur behind on the couch than him...well, my word; life has turned a bit on its head.
This Estate business is getting out of hand. And I'm damn tired of it. Damn tired. Executor stands for "You-are-constantly-gonna-have-to-deal-with-idiots."
Not the "Boys," not my cousins. They've been wonderful. Very supportive and cooperative. Love 'em to pieces. They've helped me keep what sanity I've been able to cling, too.
Ah, but the 2 villains in this Southern Family Gothic. Mumsie and Uncle Dear. Oh; THEM. Whatever I did to be cursed with those 2; please; I'm sorry and I beg forgiveness. Tell me and I swear, I'll never do it again.
They are liars and crooks and hypocrites.
Nothing like having someone throw Biblical phrases, etc., at you when they're blantantly flaunting their advirace; coveting; and good-old-fashioned-greed.
Gotta just sit back and love that one.
They've even gone so far as to harrass Daddy to try and get me to hand over the cash. Had to put number blocks on his phone.
Uncle Dear was just an ass about it. Ask him to stop the calling and he called the same night, the same night.
And this is the same man who always says," you have a blessed day." when you meets or leaves your presence."
Total hypocrite. Total.
And that just bites. Raises my naturally low blood pressure, too. This from the dude that was there to help hoist a Bible at me.
And so here we are. Trudging our way thru this squalid trench. That's the only way I know to describe it. The trench of death and all that goes with it.
Don't die; the hell with the pretty term of passing or some such; without a specific WILL. Just for the ones you leave behind.
Look at this way; you won't care. They will. W-I-L-L. It'll give them time to mourn you properly. It will give them TIME.
And maybe; you can help some of those behinders make less of an ass of themselves as they stay close to God.
Or make it less work for them at any rate.
Praise the Lord.
OnceAgain

Me Time

Its sunny again. THANK goodness. After yesterday; and the day before; well; I thought that was that. We'd definitely broken the drought and we'd definitely have wet feet (along with every frickin' thing else) for the rest of our stay here in sunny south Florida.
But the sun came out to play this morning and she's stayed.
Yip - ee!
Now if the damn wind would die down it'd be perfect; but alas; one can't always have everything.
AND I finally got it through the old man's head that I just wanted a little "me" time.
Wasn't going to run away. Wasn't going to do anything nefarious. Wasn't going to go off and spend all his money. Just wanted to sit in the relative quiet of my own company and .... do nothing.
OK, well read the paper; clean up my e-mail; sit; get up and put some hooks up in the new RV; putter around and do whatever struck my fancy; and just hum around as I pleased.
That kind of me time. Doin' what I wanted to do or NOT do when I wanted to do or NOT do it me time.
THAT kinda time.
I don't get that when we go places. Usually.
This time I put my foot down.
Don't get me wrong. I love, love, love my Grandest kids and their parents. Love seeing their other grandparents. Love going around to the baseball games and all the goings on, etc. But at some point; I just want to stop and just stop.
Isn't that what vacations and getting away from it all stuff is about? Isn't that what you are supposed to do when you "chill?"
What ever happened to coming home tanned and rested?
OK; OK; I know I won't be doing the tan thing unless its from a spray gun; but can't I be rested for God's sake?
I mean come on people! I work 2 jobs and I'm doin' this Estate thing that "she who bore me" is givin' me fits over. Why can't I put my feet up and catch my breath here and take a minute; or 2; or what the hell; 180.
So I ask for this Sunday.
And after a little too much pushing, Mr. always-has-something-planned-and-things-to-do pushed that one inch too far. And I expressed myself in those terms that only I can.
Finally he got the message. Oh, she wants to stay at the RV without me, or the kids, or even the Grandest kids and just be.
Yes. I just want to be.
Dumb butt.
And even then he wanted me to drive him over to the ball park and leave him with friends so I "could have a car." I told him no.
Well, that was the gist. It was growled. Maybe snarled. But it was a definite negative.
He took the car and drove himself.
I do hope he's enjoying his baseball game. And I hope the Cardinals are winning. It's Spring Training here in Jupiter, FL. They're playing the Orioles today. And I'm not there.
I'm here. At my RV. I'm puttering and putering and doing what I darn well please when I please. The sun is warm, the wind a bit cool. But my oh my, not one person is here to rain on my parade.
OnceAgain

Patience

I'm not the most patient of people. Really. Friends can vouch for me on this one. So can my girls.
And now this is the 2nd Monday that I've had to sit in a waiting room and cool my jets why the old man's had a "procedure."
Thank you, Tracey.
Need to smack that young lady.
Not literally, of course.
She did it. Got her Dad to have a physical after all these years.
It was what she wanted for Christmas.
I gave up years ago. It was the cause of way too many problems and consternation in our relationship. Way too much.
Oh, say it. We had a couple of good fights. And a little yelling.
It was early in our relationship. Very early.
You know those days. When the 2 of you are still circling each other and defining your territories and deciding who is willing to give how much to the other. Who is willing to cede how much power over the other.
The stupid years.
The years before you realize that if you don't love someone as they basically are as a person; you'd better just haul ass outa there because you really don't belong together in the 1st place.
It took me a while in this life to realize that people are only able to love you as much as they are able to love you. Period.
And that doesn't mean I'm wise beyond the wise. It just means I've accepted the dude for who he happens to be.
And I get up and walk away when he acts like the jackass he can be. I don't fight and scream.
It just isn't worth it to get into a maelstrom. Why should I act like a fool and lower my standards just to meet someone else's expectations?
And then, when things have calmed down, I'm willing to talk. But, if you get loud again? We go back to the freeze zone.
And I can be VERY icy.
Actually seems to work better than the old fighting.
Men hate to be ignored. So do most women.
This doesn't mean I won't go to war for what is right vs. what is wrong; it just means I don't waste my precious energy on minuscule nothings.
And now I'm in the freeze zone for another reason. This waiting room is damn cold. And the old man is having a procedure to see if those outstandingly elevated PSA's mean a cancer is lurking in his nether regions.
And I will have to be patient even after this event is finished while they "cook" the biopsies.
Wonderful. I have something else to look patiently forward too.
Not.
OnceAgain

Meanderings

It's been a long while since I've had a moment to sit and write a note.
My days and nights have been filled with other notes and letters.
Filling out paperwork for my late Uncle's estate; typing up papers for the classes at the little College where I'm teaching; writing a letter of resignation to one Hospital and filling out all the paperwork for the new one where I accepted a position.
I told Skipster, I had 4 jobs for about 18 hours at one point. He didn't laugh. Come to think of it; I didn't chuckle either.
I was too frickin' tired.
And all the while, I've been trying to have some sort of home life.
Uhhhh, yeah, right. Believe that one, will ya.
Not happenin'.
I generally am lunging from one place to the next, hoping I don't over shoot the runway and crash into the end fence and wreck what's left of this old bird.
That's me. Picture an old WWI bi wing spiralling out of control, then at the last minute, I usually pull the joy stick back, kick the rudders over, some how pull out of the dive and just pull her over the edge of the precipice.
Nose up and back into the blue. Head for the sun. Until the next clouds appear on the horizon.
This is going to ruin my dye jobs. They are just NOT going to last like they should. And that's gonna really kill my budget.
But, I have made some progress.
I have a little office set up in the upstairs, northwest bedroom. Quite professional, too. Now all I need is an electric kettle and I are set; as they say.
I do hate trotting up and down the stairs to get my tea and coffee. I have the TV and radio/CD player connected to surround sound so all I need is the caffeine. Man, I'm setting myself up, I'm telling you.
Of course, I hardly ever have the TV on when I'm working. Too distracting. But, some good music in the background..... It's lift off Huston. I can go for hours.
And I have the prerequisite exercise equipment. The gazelle. Love it. I like to go and go with no stopping. Well, except that I get sore. And tired. And I'm terribly out of shape.
I'd give my eye teeth if my body would stop when I did.
Jello. It's come to that at this stage of my life.
Ick.
If I could get 20, 000 or so dollars..... Oh, wait there's the pain factor. I think I'll just keep covered up. That's ever so much more comfortable. Yeah, that's the ticket. I'm game for that one.
So as you might have noticed; it's a rambling night. I've just jumped from one subject to the next. No rhyme or reason.
I warned you this could happen. Comes with the exhaustion factor. What can I say.
Enter at your own risk?
Maybe.
But it was nice to type and not care why, after a long wait.
OnceAgain

Francis

This was written by my Grandmother after the death of her first child.
I found it when I was clearing the home where she lived the last half of her life. The paper is so old and faded, the words are soon to be lost. And they are so poignant and sweetly written. They render the heart with their pain.
So, I share them as written. I hope they will be warmly received and treasured.

In loving memory of little Melba Francis Baker
Born June 24, 1917 Died May 16, 1917
I miss you darling baby at twilight,
When darking shadows fall,
I miss you my baby at evening,
When God bids us draw near him.
For my dreams of you, my baby,
come not with the glare of day.
They come with the twilight's soft glow.
And the setting sun's last ray.
I want you, my darling baby at twilight,
When the night flower wants the dew.
When the night clouds want the starlight.
Darling baby, Mother wants you.
And some day darling baby,
Just at twilight's soft hour
When tired of the world I'll be.
I'll leave the ideal and the real,
My darling baby, I'll go to you.

Lota Carr Baker
Born November 19, 1897 Died February 12, 1973 as the sun set surrounded by her husband of 58 years, her children and grandchildren.
OnceAgain

Uncle William

I've spent the 2nd of two weekends essentially, for all intents and purposes, destroying the life, of a man, I dearly and truly loved.
And why would I do this?
Because I had, too.
He's gone. Left. This world anyway.
A short recap.
My sister phoned me just as I was walking out the door for Shift, ( I pull 12 hrs. at a time at my Hospital), to inform me of Uncle William's passing.
He had died that morning at my old Hospital. Of a stroke I would later learn. And, I would also learn, he'd been ill for 3 days.
Not one call, not one notification. Nada. Nothing.
Just the call to let me know, "he's dead."
Well, there you are. What do you say?
For me. There was stunned silence. My Uncle William was supposed to live forever. I had it planned. All neatly and quietly drawn out.
Had to go and spoil it did-in-cha?
Thanks alot.
And I'd just scored that teaching job. The one that was just going to make you so proud and knock your socks off.
Fink.
Instead, I had to drive into work, snuffling and trying to hold it together and act like a grown up. Then dash into Huntsville after Shift and teach until noon.
Then it was home and hit the shower and fall apart. Shatter like glass into a kazillion pieces. All the while, telling myself it was just a bad dream and when I woke up, boy, were we gonna have a conversation about THIS one.
Then I called my Girls to tell them. Kel my oldest went on the net to get the details of the Funeral arrangements so I could arrange to attend.
No contact from the Family again.
Friday at 1100 a call demanding I come down and sign papers so the Family could, "write checks for expenses."
Hmmmmm. Yep, I'll get right on that. You who never call unless you need something and haven't let me know anything about anything? Ssssuuuurrrreeee. Jumping up and running on it wrat neeooowww.
Turns out I'm the Executor. And the Family isn't too happy about it.
It's been along 3 weeks since January 21. Long time. Gotten ugly a few times, too. I've found out about greed and featherless vultures. How people that quote the Bible to you, forget that 'coveting," is in and of itself a sin. Big one, if I recall correctly.
And I've been made responsible for tiding up the long life of a dear, honorable man who would be devastated over some of the actions of these idiots we have to label, "relations."
The 1st weekend I slogged my way through the kitchen. It was ... a disaster. Let's leave it at that. Although I can not understand for the life of me how the neighbors could always help him and I could help him when I was down visiting, the sister and brother that live in the same area couldn't help him.
This 2nd weekend, my husband came with me and we went through the rest of the home. Sweeping and dusting and throwing out and sorting.
So much. So very much.
And heart breaking.
The mice had gotten into everything. Yeah, hadn't mentioned them until now. They'd had the run of the place and taken over. You couldn't move without seeing evidence of their existence; of their traces; of their having been across a surface.
And apparently his eyesight failing as it had been, he only had one eye to begin with, well, there you are. He'd lived in this ... mess, this absolute state of filth.
It had not been so the last I'd been in the home. But, it had come to this. And no one had intervened.
And so today, the last day, I finished with my task. I threw out more than a lifetime's mementos and keepsakes. They were ruined. Some chewed, some just so ... degraded.
What I could save, I did. But how heart breaking to see the elementary grades earned, now to a trash container, of a life I loved. And for him, they were so much a trophy. But, chewed and ruined, only handled with gloves.
I cried into my mask until I couldn't see.
It was the same throughout the home. Pick and choose and do what you could. Feel your heart crack, take a break, wipe your tears, blow your nose and then back to work.
Last weekend was easier. Then it was just grit and dirt and mold. Last weekend was elbows and aches. This weekend was hearts and rends.
And the Hell of it? The house will probably be razed. The home where nephews and nieces raced about playing under the pines. Where the Clan gathered for Grandmother's Sunday dinners and Thanksgiving feasts. Where Christmas trees were shiny aluminum with a color wheel and blue ornaments.
It was the house he built for his parents. The house he sacrificed everything for, so that they would be secure and have a haven. Everything in his life was always about another.
Today, I took the 1st steps in its destruction.
And I could feel him there. I could remember the times, from way back until more recent times.
The weight was heavy and oppressive. Not blame, that wasn't his style, his way. Just that terrible sadness. All those years and now this. Was it worth it?
Yes. Oh, yes.
If I did anything, I tried to convey anyway I could, that any of my childhood memories that were good, they stemmed from that place, the one he created.
Without that home there were many times, I wouldn't have had one.
And that's the reality of it all. That good, good man who gave so much to so many and ask for so little probably saved my life during my maternal parent's crazy years and provided a haven.
He was always providing a haven for one of us lost lambs.
And now by writing this, I can pull it together. The house was just the shell. He was the haven.
And maybe as I picked and sorted and tossed and chose; I wasn't crying so much for him; than as for me.