Rainy Days

Written January 6th, 5 AM

Well now I know how to take photos on my phone, and I didn't take any yesterday.

The rain is coming down and down, in the dark outside. I'm really glad I raked the leaves out of the ditch behind the house a few days ago. I'm sitting in bed with the comforter around me, I can hear the crackling of the fire that Dale Sr. has started in the other room.

Monday it was cold and rainy all day. I did the outside chores in the morning while the rain eased up for a while. I took out the guitar for the first time in a long time, after an hour my fingers were sore. I got quite a bit more done on the fabric-loop hanger for the little Navajo rug for Dale Jr.

 I got quite a bit of exercise. I walked Ziggy down the block and back, dug some more on the ditch out back, and practiced  doing some of the songs for the Renaissance Faire. (This was exercise because I try to practice them while walking or doing simple dance steps, so I can be a "strolling singer.") I turned another compost pile (near the bottom were those big fat grubs, larva of the beautiful iridescent emerald-green junebugs we have in the summer. The chickens get really excited about these grubs.

 I had to go get my rain jacket and put it on, and it felt surprisingly good having the light rain falling on me with the smells of the wet earth and compost.
 
Yesterday I had my computer tutor at 1:00. We spent the entire time teach me to take photos with the phone and send them to the gmail "drop box" so that I can retrieve them and put them on the blogs. I typed step-to-step directions into the "tech notes" section of the documents on my hard drive.


Whatever messed up my photo card also seems to have mixed up photos all over the place, all through my hard drive "pictures" section.

After the lesson I stopped by MacDonald's to see my tutor's wife and children. They were hanging out in the play area, which has a one-and-a-half-story plastic play structure. It was nice to see her and see how much their new baby had grown. The three year old and two year old are really fun kids. They are planning one more child. (They are Mormon, though he is the most easy-going Mormon I've ever met...he never went on the two year mission thing, and he drinks a beer now and then). She is very warm and friendly to me; they both are.

I went back to Starbuck's, right across the street from MacDonald's, because I had not had time to write a couple of e-mails I needed to make. Someone said my name, and it was my first, most favorite boss ever, the principal at the junior high for the first ten years I was there, Dr. Gary Nine. (I found this photo of him on Google Images.)

He reminded me of when he ran into Merrill and me at the funeral of another very dear person who worked at the school, the teacher and counselor Rickie Ross. She died tragically of cancer a couple of years ago. I didn't remember that we were chatting about writing, at that time, because Merrill had almost completed a book, and he commented that was trying to write and hadn't been getting anywhere.

"You said, 'Oh, you can do that!' ", he said, "and I went home and I gave it a try, and did better!" I didn't even remember that we had spoken of writing, when we met at that sad occasion. I'm not surprised I said it, because I admire him so much. It made me feel really good that I had said something which inspired him.

I'll never forget one thing that he said during one of the monthly parents' meetings. At the time I was  both a school employee and a parent, because my kids who went to that school, and I used to take the minutes at those meetings. Only a small group of parents would attend, and under his leadership the group were always interesting, inclusive and convivial.

The remark that stayed with me was, "A school should be judged by the way it treats its worst kids."  He meant those kids who were often in trouble and having the hardest time achieving). I had reminded him of that remark at the funeral, and he said he didn't remember saying it, but if he said it, he was glad that he had. A remarkable man, Gary Nine, and I was so fortunate to have him as a boss.

A few years ago, when I was applying to be a volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club, I asked him for a testimonial letter, and he sent an excellent one. (They do background checks on all of the volunteers.)
 
Around four, went up to the Boys' and Girls' Club. I had decided to just go and volunteer with whatever they needed, twice a week, as a way of reminding them that I want to start the drama club up again. I ended up helping two kids with homework, two kids that were in the drama club last year so I knew them.

The younger child, a second-grader was stalling and stalling on an assignment in which she had to make up twelve math problems, half addition and half subtraction. There was an oversize pack of cards on a nearby bookcase, and I shuffled them and had her make up the problems using whatever number came up next. When she had numbers right in front of her, she started making up the problems rapidly and answering them just as fast. It wasn't the math that was the problem, she just found it difficult to choose numbers in the first place! Which is a different skill, when you come to think of it.

She knew that the Ace meant "one". "I play cards," she said.




In the evening I had intended to finish the dishes and sweep the floor, but I was glued to a "Frontline" (a regular PBS series) about the prime minister of Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu. I had known he was on the right, politically, but I hadn't realized how far on the right he was and is, and what strong support he has from so many of the Republicans in the U.S. Congress. 



He actually wanted to bomb Iran, but when he asked Obama if Obama would back him up if Iran retaliated, Obama told him "no".

I have a sinking feeling that I will not be going back to school this coming fall, though I want to so much. I think I need to work on the Democratic campaign. 

Love, Lennie