Friday, April 18, 2014

The Lure of Labor in the Lavender and Lilac

I started out the day with the best of intentions.
It's a holiday.
I'll clean house.
I'll scrub the kitchen.
I'll do the laundry.

Then I took a brief, brisk walk.
On my way back, I noticed an offending rose-bush branch that had plopped itself right over my sidewalk. That rose bush was wildly out of hand. Stepping inside for a pair of lawn shears, I noticed that my kitchen window was sadly cloudy; maybe if I trimmed the rosebush out of the way, I could reach it without scratching my arms and give it a wash.




 Three hours later, two of my back windows were washed, Three lawn bags of old leaves cleaned from the flowerbed and sacked for pickup. The lavender had been transplanted back into the bed, from which it had been straying a little further every year for the last ten, and the crowded irises thinned and transplanted to the bare bed where once tomatoes struggled. The tulip beds were watered, the lawn raked and ready for rain, the rose bushes trimmed almost into oblivion...and the lilac? Well I couldn't trim it in bloom like that. It smells wonderful.

Sigh. The house is still in dire need of straightening. Maybe tomorrow.
But hey! It's spring! And the weather outside is exhilarating!

And I'm not the only one who's going to think so. Somebody loves "plowers".




Thursday, March 6, 2014

The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood



Just in time for spring which may yet emerge from this confused winter season with its thunder sleets and ice pellet storms, comes this hilarious junior class production:
The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood. 

 This imaginative look into “medieval England” during the reign of the unfortunately-absent King Richard; the nefarious rule of his brother, Prince John; and the rebellion of a well-loved outlaw, Robin of Sherwood Forest is a spoof--replete with flashbacks, fade-outs, and anachronisms. The actors are superb. They shatter stereotypes and break the glass-wall with pithy advice to the audience. Here's the introduction to the play and a few one-liners that introduce the cast of characters. For the sake of privacy, I've left off the real names of the actors, but if you hail from these parts, you'll recognize their faces.
 

Town’s Guy , a local yokel with one foot in the past and the other in the future, sets scenes and advises characters of both Nottingham and the home of outlaws—Sherwood Forest.  


 















The most famous inhabitant of Sherwood, Robin Hood, reclaims money from the wealthy and restores it to the poor. 


Will Scarlet, Alan A-dale, and Little John, are merry outlaws who share in Robin’s vocation, and, unhappily, his dangerous lifestyle. 



Jane of Locksley, Robin’s sister and right-hand confidant, lives in the forest also, and manages the wildlife found there. 







 













The merry men’s comrade in arms, the good Friar Tuck serves as an adviser as well as a friend to them all. 






 

 If one were to leave the safety of the forest, and venture into the town of Nottingham, one would encounter other dangerous creatures: Namely

The conniving Prince John who sits uneasily on a throne not rightfully his and plots to make it so. 
His cooperative cohort the Sheriff of Nottingham is frequently found at the palace, where he helps initiate schemes--nefarious and nasty.  

Of course where the rich and famous congregate, we find fawning ladies.

Lady Gillian Laughalot and Lady Mary Ellen fawn over the royalty, which includes the unfortunate
Maid Marian, King Richard’s daughter, who is caught by the rising ambitions of her
 Uncle Prince John.




Thankfully, she is not alone in her misery. Her lady in waiting, the incomparable Millicent Heavenscent shares her every danger. 
If you live near Western Oklahoma, I suggest you come out on Friday night, to buy yourself  a five dollar ticket to see The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood.


Here are a few more pictures from dress rehearsal!



Friday, December 13, 2013

Stromboli and Cinnamon Rolls--Ambrosia!



Our school cafeteria is renown for its excellence. The cooks are revered by our present students and fondly remembered by the alumni. If I ate the noon meal every day, I'd soon be as chubby as a sausage roll, so I don't. However, there are some temptations that are irresistible. Stromboli fall into this category. Every time they are on the menu, the cooks make it a point to let me know so I don't miss my favorite treat. Today they were served with their special tomato sauce, salad,  ice cream and strawberries.  I composed an impromptu stromboli song and led my seventh and eighth grade boys in an enthusiastic tribute to the cooks.

It went something like this:

Stromboli, Stromboli
So plump and roly-poly
The meat and cheese
Can't fail to please
It thrills my little soul-i

I'm so glad our school chose not to comply with the new government cafeteria regulations which demand they serve proportions which might be sufficient for an eighty-five pound seventh grade girl but sadly insufficient for her brother who plays basketball and practices for a couple of hours every day.  Of course that choice did cost us--we lost the small stipend that the state had awarded us to cover the cost of reduced-meal tickets--but we felt that having the liberty to use our own judgment in choosing nourishing and delicious meals for our students was worth the cost.

Speaking of delicious, a couple of the home-economic students just brought in a pan full of cinnamon rolls, still hot from the oven. They offered to share them with the calculus class. I just happened to be here, since it's my hour off.

Today was a No-diet day. I guess I'll fast tomorrow.



Saturday, December 7, 2013

More Philosopher Limericks























So do I exist or  not?
Well, I just had a sentient thought.
And I cannot be dead
With these thoughts in my head
And I think them; I think them a lot!






Francis Schaeffer
When sin becomes cause to rejoice,
And "right to life" changes to "choice"
When the foundations give,
"How then should we live?"
We can justify raising our voice!






Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Man is naturally good and born free
His children conceived equally
Society corrupts him
Enslaves and bankrupts him
So I'm giving my children to Thee

 








Ludwig Wittgenstein
"Do away with explaining",  he explains
For words are all subject to change
There is no deeper meaning
Just descriptions convening
What I mean is ...no meaning remains.