11/11/11/11/11/111

At 11:11 this morning, our superintendent announced over the intercom that we would take a moment out of our day to pray for veterans on their special day.  Since it was November 11th, in 2011, and we are now entering our 111th year of existence as a school, it seemed a special occasion.






(I knew there must have been some reason for me to have taken pictures of the sun, moon, and cows on the way to school this morning!)

All for a Few Good Pictures

Over the course of my life I have been asked to take a number of examinations to prove that I'm a sentient being, and I passed them all. In fact, the tests have universally agreed that I'm not overly deficient in intelligence and am capable of making rational decisions.

Unfortunately, you can't always tell that by my actions.  Yesterday was a case in point.

Although I had left school later than usual, and I knew that I needed to arrive home in time to run an errand or two before I had to dress up and come back to school to host a table for our annual school-supporters' banquet, I saw the clouds...and the sun...and the sun on the clouds..and the fields luxuriating under the new-fallen rain.  

Because we've been in a long, pitiless drought,
I wanted to see water. I plead that I was bewildered by welcome sights:  blue streams curving around green terraces, tree feet wading in puddles,  heavy clouds soft-shielding the sun.
I turned south and followed the country roads where pictures beckoned from every side.
Sounds rational, doesn't it?

It wasn't really.
I had forgotten one little item.
Dirt roads  covered by six inches of rain and left to sit overnight turn into mud.


Need I say that it was a long ride home? Need I explain that gravel roads make unusual furrows under the onslaught of flood run-off? Need I describe the blank stare of unconcerned cattle or the color of the mud that now coats the bottom third of my vehicle? I'll spare you.

The fact is, I made it home, finished my errands, arrived at the banquet on time, and nobody knows about my lapse of sanity...well, except you. You know now. And the cows. They know.

Fall in Missouri

A Trunk Full of Fun

Many years ago, when my children were young and sometimes bored on rainy Saturdays, an elderly lady in our church gave them a little suitcase full of old hats, ties, scarves, and jewels. It was an old suitcase, much repaired and spray painted a dull brown, but it served its purpose and more, making an appearance twice a year during junior high and high school dress-up days, and occasionally even being used as a play prop.

This fall, I decided that the time had come to pass it on to the next generation. When I dragged it from the attic, I realized that the 115 degree temperatures and dry conditions we had this summer had taken their toll. It was in need of glue, lots of glue, and paint--preferably gold and sparkly. So I painted. Claye and I searched for the smallest costumes, and we took it to Missouri, stuffed and sturdy.

When we arrived, it was two days before Halloween. Zaya and Mim weren't going trick-or treating, but they had a little party to attend, and had already planned costumes for that. Zaya was going as a black hole. His mom had painted a black sweatshirt with "glow in the dark" planets, the USS Enterprise, a Looney Tunes rocket, the death star, and some Ty fighters all being drawn into the swirling center of Zaya's stomach. He donned black hat, pants, shoes, and gloves and went around saying "Fear Me!". Occasionally he would grab something or someone and say "Schluck" as he pulled them toward the void.

Mim went as the more traditional Princess--Princess Leia, in keeping with the space theme. She suffered from wig-itchiness, though, and wasn't quite as brave as the real Princess would have been...well, maybe not. Star Wars never had itchy wig adversaries. Maybe she would have caved too, especially since her father wouldn't have helped by putting mole-skin on her ears and cheering her tears away.











The next morning we opened the trunk again, and the grandkids played "Newsies".

Zaya ran around yelling, "Pape, Mum, buy a pape?" and Mim played two roles: the office supplier and money collector, and the wealthy client who not only bought a pape, but adopted the poor little paper boy and took him into her home...

where she entertained him by being a royal jester.

Hours of fun in a little suitcase.