It's that time of year...

Exams.

I don't know if they are worse for students or teachers. Wait. I do know this. Teachers.

See you in a week. I don't know if you should pray for me or my students... *giggle*

Just a little something...

Last night my colleague (work-husband 'cause we spend so much time together -- his wife and I call each other "sister-wife") and I received an "Improvement of Instruction" award for the class we created for this year. It is a combination History / Literature class. Students use literature (mostly primary sources and some fiction and poetry) to learn American history. We couple this with four site visits over the semester -- including a three or four day to a significant site. This past fall we went to Williamsburg for four days; this spring it was Washington, DC.

The class has rocked my world. I minored in history, so it is all good to me. And, frankly, I have been thinking of leaving the teaching game for a while. I don't have the patience with the politics any longer.  But, that being said, we have both been re-energized and excited about the class and so have our students.

The best moment all year?? When a very very very shy young man stood up before the same class he couldn't tell his name to three months earlier and told them that his life and his children's lives (when he marries and has 'em) will be different from the class. That is why I teach. No politics can take away those crystal moments when you know without a doubt something you did mattered. Not in finding a cure for cancer matter. But, matters in a more remarkable way. It will ripple. And, it will keep on rippling for all time.

Go Back To Bed

You know it is going to be a lousy day when:

1. The cat puking on the bed is what wakes you.
2. It is 3:30 a.m. when the cat decides to toss a hair ball on the bed.
3. It is 3:31 a.m. when the Mister jumps up screaming that the cat has left a little present on HIS side of the bed.
4. It is 3:32 a.m. when you are stripping the bed, cleaning up what could be the cat's twin that he ate and is now giving back, which is now on the Mister's side of the bed.
5. It is 3:33 when the bed is changed, the Mister is back in bed, the cat is dosed with Laxatone, and sheets are in the washer and you are wide awake because of the stupidness that started three minutes ago.
6. It is 3:34 when your Airman messages you that he is "going to Hawaii" for a week while you have to stay home with a cat, the Mister, and no sleep.

Sigh.

Monday, Tuesday

One of the hardest things I am adjusting to is the fact that the Airman is now 14 hours ahead of me in time zones. One of the neatest things I am adjusting to is the fact that the Airman can tell me if tomorrow is a good day.....

Have you seen this:



I adore Christopher Walken and Fat Boy Slim. So fun! Makes me want to dance! You??

First Day Musings --- He's Alive

I adore this song. Enjoy and Happy Easter

Cooking Goat

If I have to wrestle another naughty goat and end up with my back out, I will be needing some goat cookin' receipts.

Today I let the girls into the portable fence so they could graze on some fresh grass. Someone (Anabelle) lead the way to push the fence down.  And Someone (Anabelle) convinced the Other Goats that the Lady didn't care if they went out. Then, Someone (Anabelle) talked everyone into making a run for it when the Lady and the Mister came to get them in.

Ironically, Anabelle was the easiest to get in. She lives by her stomach and the though that we had a Special Feed Bucket Just For Her was enough to lead (read: drag her by the horns) to the barn. Not the other girls. After enticing them with feed for 30 minutes, we finally got Clara, Lucy, and a few of the babies in. Even Mary and Mia went in fairly easily, but they are dominated by their stomachs (like me).

The back injury came when I gathered up Lila, who had gone into the open milking parlor door to go back to the goat yard. Stupid Me. I bent wrong. And fell to my knees where I stayed until the Mister came to rescue me as I struggled with a wiggling goat wrapped in my arms.

Did the other goats have pity for the Lady? Not Charlie and Layla. No. Not them. They ran up and down the mountain for another 45 minutes before they were worn to a bone and "decided" to go to the milking parlor door to go in.

At one point the Mister asked me: "What do you want me to do?" I can only surmise that my crawling on the ground and crying made him think Something could be done for me...

"Get the gun," I replied.

"For who??"

"Me or the goats. Murder. Suicide. It is all the same right now. It will stop the pain..."

He shook his head and started up the hill again. What a guy...

So, we are now in agreement that the next escapee will be dinner. Plain and simple. Only problem is: I don't eat meat.... but I think maybe I could start...

Who Built the Ark??

The rain in Washington on Saturday was of Biblical propotions! In fact, it was so bad that not one photo of it was usable! Suffice it to say that it flooded the Mall to over my hiking boots, which are now quite nasty looking, and soaked my socks until I could actually wring them out. The wind was so fierce that my umbrella, puny as it was, provided no cover. And, my Air Force hoodie was just a huge towel. Never have I seen such lightening and heard such thunder! All I could think of was how my little farm was surviving. After all, the rain came from that direction!

After wringing myself out at the hotel, which had NO hot water for two of the three nights we were there, I called home. The little creek in front of the house was overflowing, filling the bottom pasture, and over the bridges on both ends of the property. Our little grey runner duck, Helen, hasn't been seen since. We are fearful that she was washed away, but hopeful that she on a nest, safe and dry.

The garden, thankfully, wasn't planted, so we didn't lose anything there. However, we experienced a tremendous wash out of the blind ditch next to the house, to the point it has collapsed and we now have to install a new one. In the meantime, we are jumping it to get to and from the barn. Thankfully, the girls and all the little ones are fairing just fine!

Otherwise, mercifully, all was well here. Sadly, however, many of our fellow North Carolinians have suffered great loss. I heard one farmer on NPR talking about how he had planted his corn on Friday and by Saturday evening he had lost the field and it was so filled with debris he didn't think he could use it this year. And, we hear that perhaps some of the pig lots suffered huge washouts which will cause pollution in the rivers and, ultimately, to the fishing grounds just off the coast.

Does the weather in your part of the world seem odd these days??