I am writing this blog entry by way of response to a "forward" I received from a fellow Christian friend--a person whose faith, honesty, and integrity I admire greatly. I'm not sure she asked for this, but here it is!
My friend sent out an internet story to the members of our adult Sunday school class. The story is of a high school student in Tennessee who was supposedly suspended for saying "God bless you" to a classmate who had sneezed, and was disciplined for using "godly speech" in class. At first glance, the story smacked of an Internet hoax to me, designed to make it appear that the student's religious and Constitution rights had been abridged. The intent of the piece making the rounds was to arouse the ire of Christians who believe that Christianity is under attack in this country--and particularly in schools. Having been in the classroom "trenches" for 40 years (and having just taught two adult Sunday school lessons on separation of church and state, and prayer in public schools), I am probably as qualified as anyone to look into the validity of the tale to determine what commentator Paul Harvey would have called "the rest of the story".
But first, allow me to relate a story that happened to me, as a teacher in the real world:
I was teaching 11th or 12th grade English (can't remember which) to a class of mostly boys. (As happens sometimes, there were only four girls in that class. The rest were males of the species who had no use for English as we know it, and even less regard for literature!) I dreaded seeing that class walk in the door every day because I never knew what I would be up against by way of discipline. As parents, we learn to pick our battles with our children; as their teacher, I had to do the same. I decided early on that I wasn't going to make English scholars of those boys, but if I could simply "keep the lid on", the parents and the administration would be grateful to me. I endeavored to get them through the year successfully (by passing), and hoped that something I said or did during their one period per day with me would rub off and they'd accidentally learn something--anything--that they could take with them. Getting and keeping their attention was exhausting business and tenuous, at best.
One particularly frustrating day, I was attempting to teach a lesson when, right in the middle of my speaking, one of my young Lochinvars leaned sideways in his desk and loudly passed gas, grinning from ear-to-ear, while the rest of the class erupted in response. Had it been an accident--had the kid been the least bit embarrassed by it--I could have made a joke and moved on. This, however, was deliberate. I took it as total disrespect to me and an effort to derail my lesson. I issued the boy an after-school detention and moved on--or tried to. Immediately, another student loudly protested in front of the whole class. He argued that I had no right to issue the original culprit a punishment because passing gas is a "natural function" and "can't be helped", etc. I tried to calm him down but it escalated, and the whole class was watching to see what I was going to do about this new disruption. Finally, I assigned HIM an after-school detention, as well, explaining that we could talk about it later when he had settled down. The first youngster didn't serve his detention. I think his mother came in and talked to the administration and got his detention waived. (Not sure.) The detention for the second boy wasn't served, either, which meant he got three detentions to replace the one he refused to serve. This was a problem for him because he was an Office Aide, and Office Aides were supposed to keep their noses clean or lose the privilege of assisting in the office. Next thing I knew, I was called to a three-way conference with his mother and the Assistant Principal after school a day or two later.
At first, the mother was hot. She demanded to know what punishment the other boy got for his part as the initiator of the incident. (I think she wanted me to admit that the other boy hadn't served his detention so she could argue that her boy shouldn't have to, either.) I had to tell her that I was not at liberty to discuss another student's disciplinary situation any more than she would want me talking to other parents about her boy's situation. We talked about what went on for awhile and then, the Asst. Principal took his leave for the day, making the mother and I search for another place to finish our conference. (So much for administrative support!) Before it was all over, I explained to her that, had her son talked to me about his concerns privately instead of in front of the class, none of this would have transpired. I would have handled it all differently had he not put me smack-dab in the middle of a power struggle that I wasn't about to lose in front of that class. She confessed that her son had a bit of a temper...and we went on to talk about other things about her boy. I asked if she knew that he considered himself responsible as the Man of the House after his father/her husband deserted them all. That softened her. She had not known this but said it explained many things that had been going on at home. She realized in that moment that her son had trusted me enough to talk to me about it, that I actually cared about him, and that things aren't always as they appear. I think it opened up communications between them because, a couple of days later, the boy caught me in the hallway, confessed his temper and apologized, while I confessed to him that I would have handled things differently had I not felt cornered. I never had another moment's trouble with that young man. In fact, he became my staunch supporter to the class!
So...things aren't always as they appear. (This was in the days before the Internet. Can you imagine the story had it been tweeted? STUDENT SUSPENDED FOR A NATURAL BODY FUNCTION. ANOTHER STUDENT SUSPENDED FOR SUPPORTING HIM. I would have been condemned in the Court of Public Opinion!)
But I digress. Back to the "God bless you" story. Turns out, the story is not an Internet hoax. It actually happened just a few days ago, but not the way people are taking it--the way it appears, rather than what actually happened. Let's try to make sense of it.
First of all, people don't say "God bless you" to someone who has sneezed because they were taught to do so by their religion or their pastors. The custom has nothing to do with religion but rather an ancient superstition that we are close to death when we sneeze. Blessing the sneezer somehow wards off evil spirits. Then, too, I wonder how loudly the "bless you" was said. Was it a quiet little blessing so that only the person who sneezed heard...or was it out loud and disruptive? What was going on at the time? Was the teacher speaking/teaching? Were classmates studying? The circumstances probably had a lot to do with the consequences.
Secondly, the student was not suspended for the day. She was merely kept out of the remainder of that one class period. (Oh, how many times I sent students to the office for the remainder of a period because their disruptions were making it impossible for me to teach and the other students to learn!) She could have been in In-School Suspension for 45 minutes, or 20, or 5. The news story doesn't say, and it doesn't really matter.
Thirdly, the student says she was sent to the office, while "the office" said she walked out of class and went to the office on her own. Again, it doesn't matter. The end result was the same in either case.
Lastly--and most importantly to me--the student was not disciplined for what she said but for the confrontation that she made of it in front of the class. (Witness the fact that the rest of the class period had to be attended by the administration because the kids became unruly as a result...and this pleased the offender.) The teacher felt cornered and disrespected. The kid felt empowered. Here are her own words, taken directly from the Internet (emphasis hers):
A girl sitting right next me sneezed in class. I said “Bless You!” My teacher, Mrs. Kindle, asked “Who said that?” I said “me.” She said “Why did you say that?” I said “Because it is courtesy.” She said “Says who?” I said “Says my pastor.” She said “Well we don’t say that in my class.”
I asked her why it was a big deal to her. She yelled at me and said “We will not have Godly speaking in my class!” That is when I stood up and said “My pastor said I have a constitutional right -1st amendment freedom of speech.” She said “Not in my class you don’t.”
I said “I will defend my religion.” She said “You will not in my class because I trump everyone.” Then another student stepped in and said “You don’t over trump God.” So she sent me to the office and the assistants principal said “if I didn’t want to respect my teachers rules then maybe My pastor should teach me because my freedom or speech and religion does not work at their school.
Then they sent me to ISS (in school suspension). After I left the class room all my class mates stood up and defended me the teacher had to call assistants principal to control the class.
We can all be armchair quarterbacks. Woulda/coulda/shoulda. The teacher framed a power struggle. The student resisted, vehemently. The rest of us weren't there and did not witness the event. We are left to glean the truth from whatever details we can get. My personal opinion is that this incident has nothing to do with religion or even freedom of speech. It has to do with classroom management, and BOTH parties were wrong. It has been blown way out of proportion, and those who have an agenda are using it to fuel their own insecurities about what they perceive is going on in our country today. I'm not saying they are wrong; I'm simply saying that things are not always as cut-and-dried as they appear.
May cooler heads prevail, and............God bless you! :)
Friday, August 22, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Custodial Care
I woke up this morning to a thunderstorm rolling through. Worse to the south of Plainfield. When I got on social media (Facebook), I noticed posts from former students who are now parents, indicating that the elementary school in the district where I used to teach was without power. The students were just getting off the buses, so they were immediately taken to the middle school, just across the parking lot from the elementary, until a decision could be made about what to do with them. Some minor parent panic ensued on FB as they worried about the safety of their children. And then the power came back on in minutes and the kids returned to their school. Much ado about nothing!
The rough start to the school day in Monrovia, Indiana, reminded me of all of the times that we had snags when I was still teaching, which made me think of what/who really made a difference in those situations, which made me think of custodians. (See how my mind works?)
I taught school for 40 years, plus I had teachers for parents. I learned very early in my career that I needed/wanted to stay on the good side of the custodial/maintenance staff because those are the people who really make things happen. The administration--sure. Fellow teachers--of course. But the real heroes of getting tasks accomplished are the ones with the least authority: the custodians. Most of the custodians--especially the women--were proud of their work. "I take care of my teachers," they would say. And they did. If I needed an extra desk because I got a new student, I could wait all day for the administration to get word to a custodian...or I could catch Bill in the hall and tell him that I needed another desk. Bill knew which room held the extra desks and would have one in my classroom in minutes. Bam! There! If the heat or the air conditioning in my classroom wasn't working right, I could complain to the administration all I wanted. He/She would put in a work order and give it to the head of maintenance, who would then schedule someone to come look at it after hours sometime. Meanwhile, the students and I were roasting or freezing. More often than not, I would grab a maintenance guy in the hallway and make a generalized request. "Is there anything that can be done about this? We aren't comfortable in here." Invariably, he would say something like, "There's a little quirk to this unit." He'd make an adjustment with the kids still in the room rather than wait until the end of the day, and voila! Fixed!
The custodians looked out for me, and I looked out for them. The surest way to get me to blow up at a student was for that student to throw trash on the floor and smart off to me when I asked him/her to pick it up. "That's what they pay the janitors for!" No, you moron...they pay the custodians to empty the wastebaskets, sweep the floors, and swish out the restrooms, not pick up after spoiled brats who think it's okay to be inconsiderate. (Okay....I didn't really say "moron" or "brats", but I did get honked off, big time.) I usually ended with something like, "You wouldn't do that at home, so don't do it here!" (Actually, I'm not sure that they didn't do it at home, so I felt some misplaced sympathy for the parents who would have been mortified if they had seen Johnny or Susie doing that at school.)
There are two sets of school custodians: one on duty per building during school hours, and several on duty at night after everyone has gone home. For years, our daytime custodian was little Sue Dodd. Sue couldn't have been over 4' 10" tall, and she wasn't the brightest bulb in the socket, but what she lacked in height and smarts, she made up for in heart. (When my brother died suddenly back in 2006, she gave me a little ceramic garden statue of a boy holding a frog to remember him by.) If you needed something done right now or out of the ordinary, Sue would drop what she was doing and do it. If a kid threw up in the classroom, here came Sue with the stuff to clean it up. If a girl trashed a restroom by smearing unspeakable things on the wall, Sue had it cleaned up before the next passing period when the restroom would be used again. She was just a real sweetheart. And all I could think of when a student did something destructive to get even with a teacher or the administration was, "The only person you are hurting, beside yourself, is dear little Sue--the person who inevitably will have to clean that up." Some of them got it.
Only once did I have what I deemed to be a problem with a custodian. This was a night custodian, female, whom I rarely even saw. (She was also the mother of a couple of problem kids I'd had in class.) At the end of one school day, I noticed that some delightful child had thrown an open can or bottle of Mountain Dew at the wastebasket on the way out. It had hit the side and splashed out all over the floor just inside the doorway. I cleaned it up with paper towels as best I could, but since they don't issue mops and buckets to teachers, I believed that the night custodian, when she got to my room sometime that evening, would finish with the cleanup. She didn't. By the end of the next day, the sticky spot that was left behind had begun picking up dirt from students' shoes. The spot became black on whitish floor tile. No mistaking the need for a wet mop! This time, I just knew that the night custodian would take care of it, but no... The next day, there was the dirty spot, untouched. This went on for several days. Finally, I was called to the principal's office. "Do you know that there is a big dirty spot just inside your classroom door?" he asked. Yes, I confessed, I did. I told him what had happened and how I had tried to clean it up, hoping that the night custodian would finish the job but hadn't. He looked a little puzzled, as I'm sure I did. Here is what he told me: The night custodian had reported the dirty spot to the head custodian, who then reported it to the principal, who then called me in to ask about it. Neither of us was sure why or what the night custodian was thinking, but the principal said, "Just get Sue Dodd to clean it up." I did, and she did. End of story.
Was the night custodian angry that someone had spilled pop in the classroom? Maybe. I know I was, and if I had caught the scoundrel, he/she would have cleaned it up, plus I would have written him/her up for having pop in the classroom in the first place. But if the custodian thought she was going to get me in trouble for something I didn't catch, she was wrong. Even the principal shook his head over why she just didn't mop up the sticky spot and move on. (I'd also heard that this particular custodian would read things left on the teachers' desks, etc. Which is a no-no.) Anyway, it was the only time in my career that I felt betrayed by a custodian.
I don't think the general public knows that when a community function goes on at school after hours, a custodian has to be on duty as a sort of property guardian. One night, I was helping with the pre-show details of the opening performance of the school's play when a terrible hailstorm moved through. The radio was blaring for everyone to take cover--tornadoes were around. I scrambled to get the kids in a safe spot. And when the storm was over, all of the cars in the parking lot had hail damage. (One large hailstone had hit the pavement and bounced up to break one of my tail lights.) Plus, many windows in classrooms on the south side of the school had been broken by hail. The custodian was frantically checking on us, trying to make appropriate phone calls to report the damage and secure the school, plus sweep up rain and ice balls and broken glass. (I have no idea when she finally got to go home that night, but I'm certain she didn't get paid enough!)
I had a custodian try to fix me up with a "nice guy" friend of hers. I had a custodian who seemed to be sweet on me--even took me out once (only to start avoiding me in the halls when he took up with a retired teacher from the district). I've had custodians put pencils on my desk at the end of the day--pencils that the students had dropped and not noticed--rather than throw them away because they understood how often kids borrow pencils. I've had custodians cover for me in embarrassing moments. (Not many, thank God!) I've had custodians jump-start my car at the end of a cold day, clean snow from windshields, push cars out of snowed-in parking spots, carry heavy stuff out to my car, supply my classes with big trash trolleys if students were cleaning out lockers, etc. In short, I learned that one should never look down on the janitorial staff because having them on your side is worth every kindness you can convey.
Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs said it best (and I paraphrase): "People who do the dirty jobs do them to make life more pleasant for the rest of us." God bless them for it!
The rough start to the school day in Monrovia, Indiana, reminded me of all of the times that we had snags when I was still teaching, which made me think of what/who really made a difference in those situations, which made me think of custodians. (See how my mind works?)
I taught school for 40 years, plus I had teachers for parents. I learned very early in my career that I needed/wanted to stay on the good side of the custodial/maintenance staff because those are the people who really make things happen. The administration--sure. Fellow teachers--of course. But the real heroes of getting tasks accomplished are the ones with the least authority: the custodians. Most of the custodians--especially the women--were proud of their work. "I take care of my teachers," they would say. And they did. If I needed an extra desk because I got a new student, I could wait all day for the administration to get word to a custodian...or I could catch Bill in the hall and tell him that I needed another desk. Bill knew which room held the extra desks and would have one in my classroom in minutes. Bam! There! If the heat or the air conditioning in my classroom wasn't working right, I could complain to the administration all I wanted. He/She would put in a work order and give it to the head of maintenance, who would then schedule someone to come look at it after hours sometime. Meanwhile, the students and I were roasting or freezing. More often than not, I would grab a maintenance guy in the hallway and make a generalized request. "Is there anything that can be done about this? We aren't comfortable in here." Invariably, he would say something like, "There's a little quirk to this unit." He'd make an adjustment with the kids still in the room rather than wait until the end of the day, and voila! Fixed!
The custodians looked out for me, and I looked out for them. The surest way to get me to blow up at a student was for that student to throw trash on the floor and smart off to me when I asked him/her to pick it up. "That's what they pay the janitors for!" No, you moron...they pay the custodians to empty the wastebaskets, sweep the floors, and swish out the restrooms, not pick up after spoiled brats who think it's okay to be inconsiderate. (Okay....I didn't really say "moron" or "brats", but I did get honked off, big time.) I usually ended with something like, "You wouldn't do that at home, so don't do it here!" (Actually, I'm not sure that they didn't do it at home, so I felt some misplaced sympathy for the parents who would have been mortified if they had seen Johnny or Susie doing that at school.)
There are two sets of school custodians: one on duty per building during school hours, and several on duty at night after everyone has gone home. For years, our daytime custodian was little Sue Dodd. Sue couldn't have been over 4' 10" tall, and she wasn't the brightest bulb in the socket, but what she lacked in height and smarts, she made up for in heart. (When my brother died suddenly back in 2006, she gave me a little ceramic garden statue of a boy holding a frog to remember him by.) If you needed something done right now or out of the ordinary, Sue would drop what she was doing and do it. If a kid threw up in the classroom, here came Sue with the stuff to clean it up. If a girl trashed a restroom by smearing unspeakable things on the wall, Sue had it cleaned up before the next passing period when the restroom would be used again. She was just a real sweetheart. And all I could think of when a student did something destructive to get even with a teacher or the administration was, "The only person you are hurting, beside yourself, is dear little Sue--the person who inevitably will have to clean that up." Some of them got it.
Only once did I have what I deemed to be a problem with a custodian. This was a night custodian, female, whom I rarely even saw. (She was also the mother of a couple of problem kids I'd had in class.) At the end of one school day, I noticed that some delightful child had thrown an open can or bottle of Mountain Dew at the wastebasket on the way out. It had hit the side and splashed out all over the floor just inside the doorway. I cleaned it up with paper towels as best I could, but since they don't issue mops and buckets to teachers, I believed that the night custodian, when she got to my room sometime that evening, would finish with the cleanup. She didn't. By the end of the next day, the sticky spot that was left behind had begun picking up dirt from students' shoes. The spot became black on whitish floor tile. No mistaking the need for a wet mop! This time, I just knew that the night custodian would take care of it, but no... The next day, there was the dirty spot, untouched. This went on for several days. Finally, I was called to the principal's office. "Do you know that there is a big dirty spot just inside your classroom door?" he asked. Yes, I confessed, I did. I told him what had happened and how I had tried to clean it up, hoping that the night custodian would finish the job but hadn't. He looked a little puzzled, as I'm sure I did. Here is what he told me: The night custodian had reported the dirty spot to the head custodian, who then reported it to the principal, who then called me in to ask about it. Neither of us was sure why or what the night custodian was thinking, but the principal said, "Just get Sue Dodd to clean it up." I did, and she did. End of story.
Was the night custodian angry that someone had spilled pop in the classroom? Maybe. I know I was, and if I had caught the scoundrel, he/she would have cleaned it up, plus I would have written him/her up for having pop in the classroom in the first place. But if the custodian thought she was going to get me in trouble for something I didn't catch, she was wrong. Even the principal shook his head over why she just didn't mop up the sticky spot and move on. (I'd also heard that this particular custodian would read things left on the teachers' desks, etc. Which is a no-no.) Anyway, it was the only time in my career that I felt betrayed by a custodian.
I don't think the general public knows that when a community function goes on at school after hours, a custodian has to be on duty as a sort of property guardian. One night, I was helping with the pre-show details of the opening performance of the school's play when a terrible hailstorm moved through. The radio was blaring for everyone to take cover--tornadoes were around. I scrambled to get the kids in a safe spot. And when the storm was over, all of the cars in the parking lot had hail damage. (One large hailstone had hit the pavement and bounced up to break one of my tail lights.) Plus, many windows in classrooms on the south side of the school had been broken by hail. The custodian was frantically checking on us, trying to make appropriate phone calls to report the damage and secure the school, plus sweep up rain and ice balls and broken glass. (I have no idea when she finally got to go home that night, but I'm certain she didn't get paid enough!)
I had a custodian try to fix me up with a "nice guy" friend of hers. I had a custodian who seemed to be sweet on me--even took me out once (only to start avoiding me in the halls when he took up with a retired teacher from the district). I've had custodians put pencils on my desk at the end of the day--pencils that the students had dropped and not noticed--rather than throw them away because they understood how often kids borrow pencils. I've had custodians cover for me in embarrassing moments. (Not many, thank God!) I've had custodians jump-start my car at the end of a cold day, clean snow from windshields, push cars out of snowed-in parking spots, carry heavy stuff out to my car, supply my classes with big trash trolleys if students were cleaning out lockers, etc. In short, I learned that one should never look down on the janitorial staff because having them on your side is worth every kindness you can convey.
Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs said it best (and I paraphrase): "People who do the dirty jobs do them to make life more pleasant for the rest of us." God bless them for it!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Life's Little Snags
Some ramblings from my senior mind:
1. No matter how much I ride herd over my grandkids when it comes time to pack to go home, they always manage to leave something behind. Most of the time, it's Ryan that is the guilty party in this, but not always. This visit, I was particularly vigilant. I saw one of Ry's black socks near the bay window in the living room, so I made sure he got that. And his new soccer ball was in my bedroom (hidden there by his sister). Got that, too. I asked Robin to check the bathroom for her beauty products, etc. She said she had it all. Then I asked if she got her bathing suit out of the bathroom. She said, "Totally!", then promptly walked into the bathroom and came back with her suit in her hand. I checked the rooms. Got it all this time! Packed the car and left to deliver the kids to their mother up north. Came home and crashed. Then, the next morning, there it was: a black sock under the couch. Not even far under the couch. In plain sight! How did I miss that????
2. This morning, I was sitting here in front of my computer when along came a spider dropping down from the ceiling on his own piece of thread. The nerve of him! He came right down between my face and the computer screen. Had I been Little Miss Muffet, I might have been frightened away, but I'm not. (I used to teach 8th grade; I am fearless!) I grabbed a tissue and clapped him between my hands. He never knew what hit him. I can tell you this: he won't be scaring anyone else ever again!
3. Also this morning, I saw a "parade" of eight 15-passenger church vans come down my street and turn west. Two were from my church; two were from Plainfield Christian; two were from First Baptist; and two had no ID on the side. Wonder what that was all about. Hmmmm....
4. When I get up and dressed in the mornings, I usually don't return to my bedroom until time to retire for the night. Yesterday, I got ready to go to bed and heard water bubbling somewhere. Turns out that the toilet in my half-bath had been running ALL DAY, from the time I got up and used it, until bedtime. Ugh!! I jiggled the handle and it quit, but how many gallons had already run through before then? It's only money down the drain...
5. When the grandchildren are here, mysterious things happen--things no one seems to know anything about. For example, an entire box of 15 Schwann's peanut butter ice cream miniatures disappeared from the freezer in less than 12 hours. Correction: the box was still there. The ice cream wasn't. Know how many of those miniatures I had? None. Ryan said it must have been Robin; Robin said it must have been Ryan. Then, too, I got up one morning to find a big wet spot on the carpet in front of the main bathroom door. What is that? No one knew. Curiouser and curiouser...
6. Unbeknownst to me, Ryan got sick to his stomach in the middle of the night after doing the State Fair. He didn't wake me, and he didn't tell me. (He told his mother days later after he got home. Said he didn't tell me because he had felt better after that.) I wondered if that was the wet spot on the carpet, but he said no. The mysterious wet spot is still a mystery.
7. One morning when the grandkids were here, Ryan got up at 8:00 AM, which was a shock because he normally will sleep past noon if allowed to. (His computer tablet said 1:00 PM, so he thought he'd better get up.) When he found out it was still early, he curled up under a blanket on the couch and went back to sleep for hours. At one point, he sat up on the couch and announced, "I have crispy pee." I thought I had misunderstood, so I asked for a repeat. Same thing. Then he put his head back down and went back to sleep....or should I say that he just continued his sleep. (He wasn't awake at all when he said what he said!) I happened to mention it to his mom and stepdad. Now, they won't let him live it down, primarily because he is so easily embarrassed by things like that. He teases, so he gets teased. Evens things out!
8. In the Who Knew? Department, I just discovered a feature of my 12-year-old car that I never knew existed. It has a split seat in back that opens up the trunk to the back seat. I knew about that. What I didn't know was that part of the split seat function had a console that comes down to separate the back seats and provides cup holders. How many years have I transported grandchildren with no idea that they could have put their drinks in something that would hold them upright?? I feel so stupid!
9. I'm watching Million Dollar Listing, Los Angeles. Cracks me up! My entire little house-on-a-slab cost less than the cars that those real estate dudes are driving. I win! When those dudes get to be as old and infirm as I am, they will discover that all the money in the world will not suffice. The standard of living in California costs so much more than here in the good ol' Midwest. Yes, we suffer from more weather problems than they do, but that makes us sturdier. They freak out when there is a little water on the pavement. We don't freak until more than six inches of snow falls. I love the Midwest. MY country!
Okay, okay...I'm blabbering. Ever onward and upward!
1. No matter how much I ride herd over my grandkids when it comes time to pack to go home, they always manage to leave something behind. Most of the time, it's Ryan that is the guilty party in this, but not always. This visit, I was particularly vigilant. I saw one of Ry's black socks near the bay window in the living room, so I made sure he got that. And his new soccer ball was in my bedroom (hidden there by his sister). Got that, too. I asked Robin to check the bathroom for her beauty products, etc. She said she had it all. Then I asked if she got her bathing suit out of the bathroom. She said, "Totally!", then promptly walked into the bathroom and came back with her suit in her hand. I checked the rooms. Got it all this time! Packed the car and left to deliver the kids to their mother up north. Came home and crashed. Then, the next morning, there it was: a black sock under the couch. Not even far under the couch. In plain sight! How did I miss that????
2. This morning, I was sitting here in front of my computer when along came a spider dropping down from the ceiling on his own piece of thread. The nerve of him! He came right down between my face and the computer screen. Had I been Little Miss Muffet, I might have been frightened away, but I'm not. (I used to teach 8th grade; I am fearless!) I grabbed a tissue and clapped him between my hands. He never knew what hit him. I can tell you this: he won't be scaring anyone else ever again!
3. Also this morning, I saw a "parade" of eight 15-passenger church vans come down my street and turn west. Two were from my church; two were from Plainfield Christian; two were from First Baptist; and two had no ID on the side. Wonder what that was all about. Hmmmm....
4. When I get up and dressed in the mornings, I usually don't return to my bedroom until time to retire for the night. Yesterday, I got ready to go to bed and heard water bubbling somewhere. Turns out that the toilet in my half-bath had been running ALL DAY, from the time I got up and used it, until bedtime. Ugh!! I jiggled the handle and it quit, but how many gallons had already run through before then? It's only money down the drain...
5. When the grandchildren are here, mysterious things happen--things no one seems to know anything about. For example, an entire box of 15 Schwann's peanut butter ice cream miniatures disappeared from the freezer in less than 12 hours. Correction: the box was still there. The ice cream wasn't. Know how many of those miniatures I had? None. Ryan said it must have been Robin; Robin said it must have been Ryan. Then, too, I got up one morning to find a big wet spot on the carpet in front of the main bathroom door. What is that? No one knew. Curiouser and curiouser...
6. Unbeknownst to me, Ryan got sick to his stomach in the middle of the night after doing the State Fair. He didn't wake me, and he didn't tell me. (He told his mother days later after he got home. Said he didn't tell me because he had felt better after that.) I wondered if that was the wet spot on the carpet, but he said no. The mysterious wet spot is still a mystery.
7. One morning when the grandkids were here, Ryan got up at 8:00 AM, which was a shock because he normally will sleep past noon if allowed to. (His computer tablet said 1:00 PM, so he thought he'd better get up.) When he found out it was still early, he curled up under a blanket on the couch and went back to sleep for hours. At one point, he sat up on the couch and announced, "I have crispy pee." I thought I had misunderstood, so I asked for a repeat. Same thing. Then he put his head back down and went back to sleep....or should I say that he just continued his sleep. (He wasn't awake at all when he said what he said!) I happened to mention it to his mom and stepdad. Now, they won't let him live it down, primarily because he is so easily embarrassed by things like that. He teases, so he gets teased. Evens things out!
8. In the Who Knew? Department, I just discovered a feature of my 12-year-old car that I never knew existed. It has a split seat in back that opens up the trunk to the back seat. I knew about that. What I didn't know was that part of the split seat function had a console that comes down to separate the back seats and provides cup holders. How many years have I transported grandchildren with no idea that they could have put their drinks in something that would hold them upright?? I feel so stupid!
9. I'm watching Million Dollar Listing, Los Angeles. Cracks me up! My entire little house-on-a-slab cost less than the cars that those real estate dudes are driving. I win! When those dudes get to be as old and infirm as I am, they will discover that all the money in the world will not suffice. The standard of living in California costs so much more than here in the good ol' Midwest. Yes, we suffer from more weather problems than they do, but that makes us sturdier. They freak out when there is a little water on the pavement. We don't freak until more than six inches of snow falls. I love the Midwest. MY country!
Okay, okay...I'm blabbering. Ever onward and upward!
Monday, August 18, 2014
My Blessings: My Grandchildren
In His infinite wisdom, God didn't endow me with good teeth or great beauty or a lot of hair, but He did give me something more precious: grandchildren that I adore. And this past week, I had them here with me, on my turf, doing what we do best (which isn't always conducive to the lives that "tweens" like to live), but it worked for me!
The children spend the summer with their mother (my daughter), but live primarily with their father the rest of the year (with allowances for weekends and holidays, etc., with mom)--all in far-northern Illinois. This summer, their father's side of the family was having a family reunion here in Plainfield where I live, so it was arranged for the kids to be at the reunion last weekend, then spend the rest of the week here with me while dad and stepmom took a vacation trip alone together. Our week together ended yesterday when we met mom and stepdad in Merrillville, IN (just before the Chicago area in northern Indiana) for a late lunch. In retrospect, I look back at all that the kids/we did while here. This is the run-down:
Friday and Saturday: Family reunion.
Sunday: Lunch at a Japanese steakhouse with the Heffelman family, complete with fancy knife-work and fellowship.
Also Sunday: Children delivered to me when father and stepmom took off on their trip; kids and I ate a nice supper at the other grandparents' house and played cards with the cousins.
Monday: Robin went to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis with Aunt Ann and Uncle Eddie and cousins, while Ryan stayed home with me. He and I went shopping to buy him new soccer cleats and shin guards, etc. Kids went swimming with the cousins at the cousins' motel in the evening. (Robin got to see the Chinese Terra Cotta Warriors that are making their only debut in the US this year at the CM. I think she is aware of how special that is. She has talked about it a lot.)
Tuesday: State Fair with Grandma Judy and Aunt Ann, Uncle Eddie, and cousins. Big day!
Wednesday: Took Robin shopping at Hot Topic as her birthday present.
Supper at McDonald's, then went swimming at Splash Island.
Thursday: Robin went to the park on her own twice, looking for other kids. Ry stayed here with me.
Friday: Not much went on. We did go to Orange Leaf (frozen yogurt place) for a treat.
Saturday: Kids went to a ceramic painting place with Grandma Judy. They picked out something to paint for $5. The finished product will be glazed and heated in the kiln, then returned to us to be shipped up to them in a week. Then all of us had pizza with the grandparents Heffelman.
Sunday: Packed for the trip home, but first a trip to Five Below to spend a little money! Drove to Merrillville, IN, to meet their mom and stepdad who were only there about three minutes before we pulled in. (Are we good or what??!) Ate at Golden Corral, made the kid trade, and departed for our respective homes. All's well that ends well. I miss them already!!
We won't talk about how much all of that activity costs! I'm not flush with money, and I had to dip into savings some, but my thoughts on that are this: I am not with my grandchildren often these days. I live modestly and have nothing on which to splurge, except for them. I've been told that I spoil them. So?? That's my job! If my grandbabies go home feeling good about being with Grandma Peggy, spoiled or not, I'm okay with that. I can't throw money at them because I have no money to throw, but if they are given opportunities that will last them awhile, I'll find the funds!
I am grateful to the other grandparents, Judy and Phil, who did all they could to keep the kids amused and happy, and delighted that Robin and Ryan are so much more civilized than they used to be. In spite of the fact that I no longer have the energy or strength to do the things that I used to be able to do with them, we still endure in love.
I am so blessed!
The children spend the summer with their mother (my daughter), but live primarily with their father the rest of the year (with allowances for weekends and holidays, etc., with mom)--all in far-northern Illinois. This summer, their father's side of the family was having a family reunion here in Plainfield where I live, so it was arranged for the kids to be at the reunion last weekend, then spend the rest of the week here with me while dad and stepmom took a vacation trip alone together. Our week together ended yesterday when we met mom and stepdad in Merrillville, IN (just before the Chicago area in northern Indiana) for a late lunch. In retrospect, I look back at all that the kids/we did while here. This is the run-down:
Friday and Saturday: Family reunion.
Sunday: Lunch at a Japanese steakhouse with the Heffelman family, complete with fancy knife-work and fellowship.
Also Sunday: Children delivered to me when father and stepmom took off on their trip; kids and I ate a nice supper at the other grandparents' house and played cards with the cousins.
Monday: Robin went to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis with Aunt Ann and Uncle Eddie and cousins, while Ryan stayed home with me. He and I went shopping to buy him new soccer cleats and shin guards, etc. Kids went swimming with the cousins at the cousins' motel in the evening. (Robin got to see the Chinese Terra Cotta Warriors that are making their only debut in the US this year at the CM. I think she is aware of how special that is. She has talked about it a lot.)
Tuesday: State Fair with Grandma Judy and Aunt Ann, Uncle Eddie, and cousins. Big day!
Wednesday: Took Robin shopping at Hot Topic as her birthday present.
Supper at McDonald's, then went swimming at Splash Island.
Thursday: Robin went to the park on her own twice, looking for other kids. Ry stayed here with me.
Friday: Not much went on. We did go to Orange Leaf (frozen yogurt place) for a treat.
Saturday: Kids went to a ceramic painting place with Grandma Judy. They picked out something to paint for $5. The finished product will be glazed and heated in the kiln, then returned to us to be shipped up to them in a week. Then all of us had pizza with the grandparents Heffelman.
Sunday: Packed for the trip home, but first a trip to Five Below to spend a little money! Drove to Merrillville, IN, to meet their mom and stepdad who were only there about three minutes before we pulled in. (Are we good or what??!) Ate at Golden Corral, made the kid trade, and departed for our respective homes. All's well that ends well. I miss them already!!
We won't talk about how much all of that activity costs! I'm not flush with money, and I had to dip into savings some, but my thoughts on that are this: I am not with my grandchildren often these days. I live modestly and have nothing on which to splurge, except for them. I've been told that I spoil them. So?? That's my job! If my grandbabies go home feeling good about being with Grandma Peggy, spoiled or not, I'm okay with that. I can't throw money at them because I have no money to throw, but if they are given opportunities that will last them awhile, I'll find the funds!
I am grateful to the other grandparents, Judy and Phil, who did all they could to keep the kids amused and happy, and delighted that Robin and Ryan are so much more civilized than they used to be. In spite of the fact that I no longer have the energy or strength to do the things that I used to be able to do with them, we still endure in love.
I am so blessed!
Thursday, August 14, 2014
My Social Faux Pas
I'm usually fairly sensitive to things going on around me. That is to say, most of the time anyway, you could take me out in public and I wouldn't embarrass you by saying or doing something stupid. Yesterday, however, wasn't that kind of day. I embarrassed myself!
As part of her birthday present, I took my granddaughter (Robin) to a clothing store where she has wanted to shop to get tee-shirts with band names/logos on them. The place is called Hot Topic, and Plainfield has one. I gave her a budget and turned her loose to pick out what she wanted. A clerk approached us offering assistance if we needed it. While Robin shopped, the clerk and I had a small-talk conversation. This is where the problem came in. I could NOT tell if the clerk was male or female! S/He was short and stocky, with a colored and coiffed off-center longish hair style that seemed distinctly feminine. The voice seemed male but had feminine affectations, like a gay male might have. S/He had no facial hair and no sideburns, sported earrings and a sparkly stud in the side of his/her nose. No real breasts, broadish shoulders in a Nike tee-shirt. Daizy Duke shorts--VERY short and tight--so short, in fact, that the pockets hung down below the leg length from the inside. The shoes were high-top and clunkyish--another female style trend that I've never liked, but that's because I'm old and old-fashioned. S/He told me that s/he was leaving Hot Topic soon in order to go to cosmetology school. All s/he wants to do is hair...doesn't care about learning about nails, etc...just hair. Everything within me screamed that this was a guy wanting to look like a gal...a gay guy, perhaps...but I honestly didn't know for sure. It shouldn't have mattered, one way or the other. And it didn't until checkout time.
A different clerk worked us at the register, with the other clerk right behind her. When she asked, "Did anyone help you today?" I said, "That gal right there"...and pointed to him/her. Then it hit me what I had just said, so I promptly made it worse by blurting...."Er...guy...er...whatever." S/He heard. Both clerks heard but, gratefully, ignored my comment, or seemed to. Not only had I messed up, I had messed up TWICE! There was no one else in the shop. No way I could have hidden behind someone or crawled under the counter. There was no chuckle from the clerks--no comment at all about what I'd said--but there was also no eye contact from them, either. I was mortified!!! I didn't apologize for what I'd said because, in doing so, I was going to have to explain my confusion, which would have compounded everyone's embarrassment, including my own. I paid for the merchandise and out of the store we went.
The first words out of Robin's mouth when we left were, "I have an important question: was that person in there a guy or a girl?"
I wish I knew, Robin. I wish I knew!
As part of her birthday present, I took my granddaughter (Robin) to a clothing store where she has wanted to shop to get tee-shirts with band names/logos on them. The place is called Hot Topic, and Plainfield has one. I gave her a budget and turned her loose to pick out what she wanted. A clerk approached us offering assistance if we needed it. While Robin shopped, the clerk and I had a small-talk conversation. This is where the problem came in. I could NOT tell if the clerk was male or female! S/He was short and stocky, with a colored and coiffed off-center longish hair style that seemed distinctly feminine. The voice seemed male but had feminine affectations, like a gay male might have. S/He had no facial hair and no sideburns, sported earrings and a sparkly stud in the side of his/her nose. No real breasts, broadish shoulders in a Nike tee-shirt. Daizy Duke shorts--VERY short and tight--so short, in fact, that the pockets hung down below the leg length from the inside. The shoes were high-top and clunkyish--another female style trend that I've never liked, but that's because I'm old and old-fashioned. S/He told me that s/he was leaving Hot Topic soon in order to go to cosmetology school. All s/he wants to do is hair...doesn't care about learning about nails, etc...just hair. Everything within me screamed that this was a guy wanting to look like a gal...a gay guy, perhaps...but I honestly didn't know for sure. It shouldn't have mattered, one way or the other. And it didn't until checkout time.
A different clerk worked us at the register, with the other clerk right behind her. When she asked, "Did anyone help you today?" I said, "That gal right there"...and pointed to him/her. Then it hit me what I had just said, so I promptly made it worse by blurting...."Er...guy...er...whatever." S/He heard. Both clerks heard but, gratefully, ignored my comment, or seemed to. Not only had I messed up, I had messed up TWICE! There was no one else in the shop. No way I could have hidden behind someone or crawled under the counter. There was no chuckle from the clerks--no comment at all about what I'd said--but there was also no eye contact from them, either. I was mortified!!! I didn't apologize for what I'd said because, in doing so, I was going to have to explain my confusion, which would have compounded everyone's embarrassment, including my own. I paid for the merchandise and out of the store we went.
The first words out of Robin's mouth when we left were, "I have an important question: was that person in there a guy or a girl?"
I wish I knew, Robin. I wish I knew!
Monday, August 4, 2014
My Gluten-Free Rant
"Gluten-free" seems to be the nutritional buzz-phrase of the day. Have you noticed the explosion of gluten-free foods that are advertised in your local grocery store or the store sale flyers? What's up with that?
I'm no nutritionist or dietician, but I think I know a little bit about food. (Don't believe me? Just look at me!!) I've also done some research on the whole gluten-free thing, and what I have found is that a gluten-free diet is only advantageous to people who have Celiac Disease. To those who don't, it can actually be dangerous, for a number of reasons.
Celiac Disease is an auto-immune disorder in which the sufferer's system cannot process gluten--a protein in wheat and other grains--that will cause major digestive problems and will cause damage to the intestinal lining. It's a serious problem. In my lifetime, I have known only two people who were true "celiacs". Apparently only 1% of the population has Celiac Disease...and only half of them have been officially diagnosed by medical tests. In short, it isn't rare, but it isn't common, either. There might be a half-million sufferers in the US. Only celiacs need to eliminate gluten from their diets. I've read article after article on the Internet about gluten-free diets, and the only one I have found (so far) that indicates that a gluten-free diet will be beneficial to anyone who is not a celiac is one that was selling a gluten-free diet!
I don't even want to get into the details of what is wrong with a gluten-free diet for non-celiacs. What I want to deal with is the hysteria that the proponents of "green" and "organic" are creating. First of all, gluten-free foods are at least twice as expensive as regular foods, and foods that are advertised as organic are also more expensive. There is a reason for that. If you plant a garden and don't do anything to prevent insects or disease from invading it, some of the crop will be lost to both.
Multiply that by hundreds of acres that farmers cultivate, and you are faced with the reasons that the produce is so high priced. If you buy into the notion that organic is better, you are turning your back on the history of food production in this country.
Many folks politically disavow meat products, for example, that have been given hormones or antibiotics, claiming that both of those contribute to human problems, by way of the food chain. Antibiotics produce mutated strains of bacteria that are immune to treatment, and animal hormones surely must affect human consumers. I'm not saying that either one of those claims are false, but let's look at the history. One of the reasons that the food supply in the US has been safer than in any other country in the world is that our meat livestock is given antibiotics, when needed, to assure that the meat produced is healthy. (When was the last time you heard of someone getting trichinosis from pork?) Hormones assure that the animal is the best it can be. The animal wins, the farmer wins, and the consumer wins. (No farmer in his right mind is going to risk his entire family's income for a year by doing things to his crop or livestock that would harm the consumer. Think about it!)
I've written before about the fact that grass-fed beef seems to be the "green" consumer's choice--but grass-fed beef is tough. That's why livestock is sent to a feeder lot before slaughter in order to be fattened up on corn/grain. Grain-fed cattle produce much tenderer meat. The cows don't care! They will eat grass or corn or whatever yummy stuff is provided them, as long as it's enough! And what's the deal about free-range chickens? If the chickens are free to roam around, does it make them healthier to eat?
When I lived in Japan as a kid (in the late 1950s), military personnel were warned not to drink Japanese milk because the dairy cattle were not tested for tuberculosis. American dairy cows are. We were also warned not to eat local produce without first washing it with bleach because it was fertilized with human excrement. (Not sure why human excrement is considered worse than manure, but what do I know??) One of the reasons that TB in this country was all but eradicated is because we have been vigilant in giving our animals the antibiotics that makes our food chain safer, and our milk is "pasteurized and homogenized". There is even a "green" movement afloat to drink milk that hasn't been subjected to that kind of processing. Back to nature, I guess...but guess what? I've seen raw milk. I've milked a cow by hand, and I've witnessed cows being milked in a dairy barn, and I would NOT drink milk that hasn't been pasteurized and homogenized. You can, if you think it's better for you as a human, but a century of research and results says otherwise. Good luck with that!
High fructose syrup has also gotten a bad rap recently. A number of products advertise "no high fructose syrup". So?? High fructose syrup is sugar. And sugar is in fructose. The fanatics will have you eat all kinds of antioxidant fruits, all of which are high in fructose. Many of the foods that you eat every day are turned into sugar in your body for the production of energy. How you get it is up to you, but it's all the same...
So, you are welcome to reduce the number of toxins in your food by going for things you think are healthier, but consider this: every time you take a drink of alcohol or swallow a pill, you are introducing a toxin into your body. I could never be a vegetarian because I love meat too much. I take pills because I have to and drink wine because I want to...and I think I am like 95% of the American population in that. Consider this as well: the recent issue of Reader's Digest had an article that said, among other things, that rice contains arsenic, and we should all be cautious. Seriously? If rice consumption causes arsenic poisoning, a huge part of the world would be affected--all Asian countries, and then some. And fish, which is touted as the healthiest meat for us all, is contaminated with mercury. Why aren't Chinese, Japanese, Indians, and Koreans dying like a pack of poisoned rats??
I think Americans are subject to silly trends. If you think you feel better eating gluten-free, and you are not a celiac, go for it. Just don't discount current research by trying to make it seem good for everyone!
I'm no nutritionist or dietician, but I think I know a little bit about food. (Don't believe me? Just look at me!!) I've also done some research on the whole gluten-free thing, and what I have found is that a gluten-free diet is only advantageous to people who have Celiac Disease. To those who don't, it can actually be dangerous, for a number of reasons.
Celiac Disease is an auto-immune disorder in which the sufferer's system cannot process gluten--a protein in wheat and other grains--that will cause major digestive problems and will cause damage to the intestinal lining. It's a serious problem. In my lifetime, I have known only two people who were true "celiacs". Apparently only 1% of the population has Celiac Disease...and only half of them have been officially diagnosed by medical tests. In short, it isn't rare, but it isn't common, either. There might be a half-million sufferers in the US. Only celiacs need to eliminate gluten from their diets. I've read article after article on the Internet about gluten-free diets, and the only one I have found (so far) that indicates that a gluten-free diet will be beneficial to anyone who is not a celiac is one that was selling a gluten-free diet!
I don't even want to get into the details of what is wrong with a gluten-free diet for non-celiacs. What I want to deal with is the hysteria that the proponents of "green" and "organic" are creating. First of all, gluten-free foods are at least twice as expensive as regular foods, and foods that are advertised as organic are also more expensive. There is a reason for that. If you plant a garden and don't do anything to prevent insects or disease from invading it, some of the crop will be lost to both.
Multiply that by hundreds of acres that farmers cultivate, and you are faced with the reasons that the produce is so high priced. If you buy into the notion that organic is better, you are turning your back on the history of food production in this country.
Many folks politically disavow meat products, for example, that have been given hormones or antibiotics, claiming that both of those contribute to human problems, by way of the food chain. Antibiotics produce mutated strains of bacteria that are immune to treatment, and animal hormones surely must affect human consumers. I'm not saying that either one of those claims are false, but let's look at the history. One of the reasons that the food supply in the US has been safer than in any other country in the world is that our meat livestock is given antibiotics, when needed, to assure that the meat produced is healthy. (When was the last time you heard of someone getting trichinosis from pork?) Hormones assure that the animal is the best it can be. The animal wins, the farmer wins, and the consumer wins. (No farmer in his right mind is going to risk his entire family's income for a year by doing things to his crop or livestock that would harm the consumer. Think about it!)
I've written before about the fact that grass-fed beef seems to be the "green" consumer's choice--but grass-fed beef is tough. That's why livestock is sent to a feeder lot before slaughter in order to be fattened up on corn/grain. Grain-fed cattle produce much tenderer meat. The cows don't care! They will eat grass or corn or whatever yummy stuff is provided them, as long as it's enough! And what's the deal about free-range chickens? If the chickens are free to roam around, does it make them healthier to eat?
When I lived in Japan as a kid (in the late 1950s), military personnel were warned not to drink Japanese milk because the dairy cattle were not tested for tuberculosis. American dairy cows are. We were also warned not to eat local produce without first washing it with bleach because it was fertilized with human excrement. (Not sure why human excrement is considered worse than manure, but what do I know??) One of the reasons that TB in this country was all but eradicated is because we have been vigilant in giving our animals the antibiotics that makes our food chain safer, and our milk is "pasteurized and homogenized". There is even a "green" movement afloat to drink milk that hasn't been subjected to that kind of processing. Back to nature, I guess...but guess what? I've seen raw milk. I've milked a cow by hand, and I've witnessed cows being milked in a dairy barn, and I would NOT drink milk that hasn't been pasteurized and homogenized. You can, if you think it's better for you as a human, but a century of research and results says otherwise. Good luck with that!
High fructose syrup has also gotten a bad rap recently. A number of products advertise "no high fructose syrup". So?? High fructose syrup is sugar. And sugar is in fructose. The fanatics will have you eat all kinds of antioxidant fruits, all of which are high in fructose. Many of the foods that you eat every day are turned into sugar in your body for the production of energy. How you get it is up to you, but it's all the same...
So, you are welcome to reduce the number of toxins in your food by going for things you think are healthier, but consider this: every time you take a drink of alcohol or swallow a pill, you are introducing a toxin into your body. I could never be a vegetarian because I love meat too much. I take pills because I have to and drink wine because I want to...and I think I am like 95% of the American population in that. Consider this as well: the recent issue of Reader's Digest had an article that said, among other things, that rice contains arsenic, and we should all be cautious. Seriously? If rice consumption causes arsenic poisoning, a huge part of the world would be affected--all Asian countries, and then some. And fish, which is touted as the healthiest meat for us all, is contaminated with mercury. Why aren't Chinese, Japanese, Indians, and Koreans dying like a pack of poisoned rats??
I think Americans are subject to silly trends. If you think you feel better eating gluten-free, and you are not a celiac, go for it. Just don't discount current research by trying to make it seem good for everyone!