2011, Brave New Dystopia?

Maureen pointed me to this article by Chris Hedges about our two most famous dystopias, Brave New World and 1984. The gist of the article is that our society is moving from the Brave New World of hedonistic pleasing thyself to the brutal fear and hollow compliance of 1984.

One of the methods used to slide us in that direction is the reliance upon technology and the "new" that numbs us until we don't care what happens as long as we're entertained in the process. As a teacher I am frightened by the number of students that haven't read a book, but are connected to their iPhone constantly, a computer that keeps them up-to-date with national and world facts through Facebook and Youtube, and their movie watching that keeps the local corporate cineplex in the black. The students seem numbed to any voice other than what they are electronically fed. They remind me of Odysseus' companions after Circe is finished with them. Except there is no magic potion of herbs, just technology. And once that transformation begins, then what?

Once the techno-induced entertainment transforms us into the numb followers, then the corporations can complete their takeover. Do you think politicians and government are really concerned about its citizens? They have the power and they want more for the sake of having the power, not to help the populace. Think through the latest tax credits and legal machinations of our bureaucracies. Think of who really has profited from the housing debacle. Does the middle class really benefit from what has happened? Forget benefiting, do they even survive?

Two articles in today's Visalia Times-Delta illustrate the difference in how people think. In a recent AP-GfK poll 2 out of 3 (60% to 31%) Baby Boomers believe that they will outlive the Medicare health system they pay to support. The other article outlines how top executives in the University of California system, those making over $245,000 a year, are threatening to sue the the UC if their pension is not increased 5%. "The university estimates that agreeing to the hike would add $5.5 million yearly to its already $21.6 billion unfunded pension liability." (AP) On top of this is a "$51 million one time fee to make the increases retroactive to 2007."(AP)

Who do you think our leaders are thinking of?

Just a Reminder

Where to properly put things.

Rain, Rain, Stay Some More

It's raining in sunny California as I type. We had 4" of rain from last Friday to Monday yesterday. Historically the same amount that fell in 1955 over a similar time period that created the floods that led to Terminus Dam and Kaweah Lake being built.

Seattle did have a few inches more than we did, but not many. People around this desert of Tulare County aren't used to rain. Highway 198 was closed for a few hours Sunday afternoon and night because of rain runoff that flowed into the new sunken section of the highway, just as it was designed to do.

I have tried not to let the rain hinder my activities, but I have been awake inside my house more than usual. With the chillin' home it hasn't been a bad thing. When I do get out I wear a hat. For those that wear glasses you know the reason. For those that don't rain is a dripping pain on our glasses, leading to constantly wiping the glasses. The hat I wear around the suburban plot is the palmetto or palm leaf hat that is great sun protection as well as rain blocker. I bought it at a local western wear store as it's the latest cowboy hat craze. One of the palmetto's qualities is the leaf's ability to absorb water and swell helping it to be water repellent. The water absorption also aids in shaping it. Which I did shortly after purchase to make it less cowboy and more Franciscan friar. Not that I am intending to be such, just wanted a flat brim hat to keep the sun off my dome.

Which all leads me to the discovery today of mold growing on my hat from the damp weather. Maybe this global warming change is making Exeter into a Seattle weatherwise.

The D Street Gang Is Home!

'Tis the season and this chap is pleased that the family is under one roof. Most of the time. The D Street Garvers are "in the house" from points North and East. Those that never left, but wanted to, are here as well. And those that left, but came back, are here and in near wedded bliss.

What more does a person deserve?

Two to Think About

From the wonderful Susan Issacs.

Two More Days

And we will be finished with the first term of this school year. It has been quite a year with the schedule change leading the pack. Add to this multiple changes in teachers and students that don't like the change, and the pot is frothing. Some of the ensuing adjustments with the change don't appear to have been thought through fully. But que sera, sera.

I am looking forward to the Christmas break. Wilson is home and Sam will be here in a week. Brad is happy working and engaged. Having all of the D Street Garvers home will be good for the soul. Though Wilson has been home a sum of about 6 hours total in the last three days he's been here in Cali.

I am looking forward to some rest and reading and wood cutting for the fire that should blaze all break.

Oh, yeah. I'm going back to my "default schedule" in January, 2 ELD and 1 PE class. Fourth change in my teaching schedule this year. I will enjoy Christmas.

Are We Soft?

"Men sleep peacefully in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."

George Orwell

I've used this quote before, but I've been thinking of Sam lately and it seems more apropos now. He is half way through the following, except it is three weeks long now.

New Directions

Another week has come and gone. It's funny how as a teacher the time gets chunked into weeks. I used to think, before I became a teacher, that teachers existed only at school. No thought to what they did on the weekend, or what they were outside of the school grounds. I now realize school is not the only element in my life. I did learn just like a small child playing peek-a-boo by covering their face, I do have a life on weekends.

The fries shown above were grown, prepared and cooked by Maureen. They were monsters out of the ground and I/We at the 'Zoo have come to like sweet potato fries.


They grow stealthily in the parkway, then plop onto plates after some effort by Maureen, and satisfy a not too greasy craving.

I grew up in a house that didn't eat sweet potatoes, at least not like this. It's one of the life changers that has come out of our suburban sharecropping project. There are many things we do differently, and I guess it's just a natural progression from our thoughts of how to adapt to the changing community around us. The Corolla adaptation, if I go through with it, is another example.

Along those lines I'd like to take up fishing. What I did in my younger days doesn't really count much. I can gut and clean a fish, but what I'm talking about is going to Kaweah Lake on a fairly regular basis and catching fish, hopefully trout, for food. Doesn't a grilled trout taco sound great? The key is to remember the joy of fishing is no greater than the joy of eating. Hunting is another avocation I'd like to pursue. But I've come across a new twist to these activities and others.

Maybe my filters are set higher than before, but every endeavor has new technological advances that one must possess to accomplish the task at hand. This doesn't seem to be what I'm looking for. There is a blinding array of choices that one has to wade through to find what is needed. Even then one is not sure we've made the right choice because of the myriad of different options available. I know I'm a dinosaur in many ways, but how about a simple metal edged ski with some sidecut, 3 pin bindings and some leather boots? Why do fishing poles come in so many lengths? Do I really need to have four or five different poles and reel set ups? I just want to fill my taco with some meat.

In looking at these enterprises I get the feeling I'm being sold a lifestyle instead of tool that helps me live better. I need to remember to use the tool, not become a tool of a company.

Thanksgiving As It Was

This is Couch. Couch was originally called Thing 1. When he was an inside cat Thing 1 took to laying on top of the couch like a rug, thus the name change. He likes the outdoors now and greet me every morning at the front door with a series of meows. Just one of many morning rituals.

Two things have been occupying my mind lately as I try to stall.

I haven't skied in years, but lately it's been on my mind. Especially telemark skiing. Graceful, not that I am when I try, but just offbeat enough for my tastes. I've done it on lift assisted runs and in the semi-backcountry. I've been looking at the equipment and it sure doesn't look like the skis and boots I used. If fact it looks like the downhill/alpine gear I left behind when I took up cross country skiing. Oh, well. Que Sera, Sera.



The other thought is our lovely Corolla. I have come to like the simple efficiently of this car. It has been through multiple drivers before we six have driven it. The back windows don't go up or down. The front windows do move, but it means taking off the interior door panels and disengaging the cable spool that holds the window glass up and manually letting the window down. Or spin the spool to hold the window up. Quite an operation,though I can do it in about 10 minutes by now.

My thoughts are to strip the car of extraneous things like the back seats and carpets and make it into a lean, mean urban do almost everything machine. Dirt from the nursery, no problem. Fire wood hauler, bring it on. Another object to embarrass my children, you betcha.


Thanksgiving was good. We battled through some sicknesses. Maureen did a yeoman's job and prepared a fine dinner. Her mother was over along with sister, brother and attached family. Good times were had by the fire.

This was after a Tuesday night at Betty's of 3/5ths of the Napa Derrs and the arrival of Wilson from the Great Rainy North. With delays and layovers, Wils' trip from Eugene took 21 hours. Whoa, baby. Modern living.




Happy thoughts go out to Brad and Laurel and their engagement. Oh what times to live and have someone special to share life with.


The last thoughts go to Sam and his special test the next three weeks. Vaya con Dios.

Random Thoughts on a Rainy Day

It is sunny at this precise moment, but has been raining off and on for the last two days. What better time than to delve into the twisting spiral of the human species.

I am finished with water polo for this year except for the awards banquet. What a evening of tasty morsels and political intrigue that will be. It was a very good season, especially in light of the place I was when I left water polo six years ago. I've seen one game in those six years and didn't miss it a bit. Redemption can hit you when you least expect it.

With water polo off the plate, soccer steps up. Yesterday was Annie's first games, the official's jamboree. Annie is "trying" another new position, and though she is good at it, she hasn't warmed to it fully yet. I was reminded that Central California needs to join the rest of Cali and play high school soccer in a warmer time of the year.

I met an online friend of Maureen's, Frankie, who is another preparedness follower. Maureen dropped off some apples for Frankie and her family and talked while I watched Annie's first game. After I arrived I realized these two could talk for hours about many subjects. Frankie's husband came home and showed off a really nice old Powell bamboo fly rod. Reminded me that I'd like to start fishing, and really fish for food. Wouldn't homemade fish tacos made with freshly caught trout sound good? Another subject for another time. Maureen and Frankie talked for a bit more then they were off to duties and we were back to soccer.

My teaching schedule is changing again. This will be the fourth time this year and probably the classes will change again in January. The school has been trying to find a replacement for an English teacher that resigned. The fall back answer was to have me go back to being an English teacher. One of the classes I have taught for years and even with the new 6 period day it won't be much different than what I've done in the past. The second class, 9th grade university prep will be a new gig. Smart freshman as opposed to smart-aleck freshmen. This should be a hoot.

Baseball will be starting soon. We have some field maintenance and rearranging to do. All needs to be completed and ready for practice in January. And all should make coaching easier and more efficient.

Sam showed us a website years ago, Zen Habits, and from there the mnmlist blog. Over the years the two sites have been interesting reads in the move to simplicity. Hopefully the paring away will continue.

I'll leave you with a long talk on TED by Tim Jackson. Goes with the last paragraph, at least by my thoughts. The teaser thought is this: "A story about us; people being persuaded to spend money we don't have, on things we don't need, to create impressions that won't last, on people we don't care about."

I guess the spiral is moving us downward. Oh that we learn to climb.

Thank You & God Bless. . .

To those who have served and are serving. From the poetry of "At the Eleventh hour, of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month" to what was being described, has any thought ever produced more tears?

A BIG "Thank You!" to our family that have served; in the Navy Lt. Commander Thomas Derr;

USMC, Captain Michael Derr and Lance Corporal Daniel Kellogg;

Army Sgt. Max Garver and PFC Sam Garver.

Semper Fi!, Hooah!, and Way to go!.

Surprise, Surprise!

Last night Maureen and I went out so to speak. The baseball boosters hosted a fund raising dinner and I learned I travel in different circles than others. The planner was predicting $20,000 which I was silently unsure of happening. We/He did better. The final amount isn't in yet.

The money is going to fund a freshman baseball program, if allowed, and field updates. The players will have a nice place to go to work.

A good night was had by many and especially the Monarch baseball program.

The other purpose was to recognize people that have been special to the EUHS baseball program. Long-time statistician Chuck Knox, player and coach Jesus Banuelos, were recognized for their years of service with entry to the initial class of the Diamond Club.

Two special to me and many were Ray Strable and Brad Mills who were honored and had their jersey number retired, a first for the baseball program.

Patience, Grasshopper

I didn't realize it's been 55 years since the Giants have won a World Series. 1954. Only the Cubs have been waiting longer. The Senators/Texas and the Expos/Nationals have never won one, thought they have only been in existence for 49 years. Interesting to note that the city of Washington, D.C. is common to both of those franchises. There is a story there somewhere.

Just Finished a Book

Normally I don't get to read much for pleasure during school as I'm reading papers, or avoiding reading papers. I just finished The Tortilla Curtain. I liked the book and after reading The Grapes of Wrath this summer I find many similarities.



The jest of the story is a "Yuppie" couple living within a soon to be gated community in Topanga Canyon get included in the lives of an illegal immigrant and his wife when the Naturalist Yuppie husband runs his car into the darting immigrant man one evening.

The book asks more questions than it answers, but does open the discussion on immigration, stereotypes and how immigrants influence our society. Some of the mindsets, thoughts and actions are clichéd, but the dialog they should start need to take place if our society is to move on successfully. These thoughts reminded me of the words and actions used against the migrants in The Grapes of Wrath, just a new race and time in history.

The horror and wrongfulness of these actions, words and thoughts are the same though.

Inter- & -Session Don't Add Up

This could be one of those "Fill in the caption" pictures.

"What do you think the Giants chances are in the World Series?"
"I was thinking of planting some apple trees. . ."
"What do you think would happen if you crossed a salmon with a flying fish?"

Actually it was one moment in a wonderful weekend celebrating my mother-in-law's 80th birthday.



Some of the Derrs, Kelloggs and Garvers gathered in Three Rivers at the Bullene's bed and breakfast, Sequoia River Dance B & B, to wish Betty a happy birthday and to see each other. Great weekend and fun times as always.

Half of the Garver's living at home, Annie and Dad, are "off" this week for Intersession. Curious wordsmiths will note that intersession is much like interstate. "Inter- "meaning the connection between two things and "-session" which is the sitting for a course or period of lessons. A short teaching or learning course between two bigger sessions or time periods. Our time off is neither. It is a vacation for some. Originally it was designed for short courses to either enrich or help students catch up in their studies. No learning is going on at school. In fact the office is shut down and teachers are encouraged to stay away to save on electricity.

The problem is if you are playing a sport or coaching, the games go on. Some athletes think it is vacation and don't show up for practice, or games. Some families take their vacations now, and why not. October is great weather in these parts and few others are off at this time. Between coaching baseball and water polo, the Garver's usually have a staycation during intersession. Which isn't so bad, but isn't so great either.

It's just with the break in routine and it is hard to get back into the routine when we return next week. And the students think they are coming back from summer vacation, so a day or two is spent growling to get them back in the "learning" mode.

A Pair o' Dimes. . .

. . .Or what can 20 cents buy you? Sleepless nights I suppose.



I've been thinking about many things lately related to this country, our schools and my own family and where we are going. I was involved in a discussion with another teacher and they suggested this article by David Brooks.
In searching for the piece I found another article about it in salon.com. And within the second article I found the what I think is the best of the bunch in this Thomas L. Friedman column in the New York Times.

Please don't think this is another rant about why education's failure is not the teachers fault. I think you'd be missing the point. At least the idea I've been pondering and wondering about for a while.

It's tough in schools right now, but it's tough everywhere. People are looking for direction, or at least someone to stand up and point in a direction that truly helps. The problem is when someone does stand and point they are usually blaming someone else, not leading. A good friend says to remember every time you point to blame someone remember there are three other fingers pointing back at yourself.

Our leaders aren't honest about the difficult things we need to hear but don't want to hear. And we don't listen even if we do hear. The times they are a changing is so true. People are getting fed up. This week I read the lines from Network used in a newspaper article.



But that's only part of the issue. Remember that movie was made in 1976. How much of what he says is still true?

We can complain about politicians and Wall Street, but isn't the issue with us also? I'm reminded of the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding: The success or failure of a society does not depend on the system, but depends on the morals and values of the people within the society. I'm to blame and we're to blame.

So for me and my house we are acknowledging that the times have changed and the paradigm has shifted. Let's see what happens.

Gotta dime?

A Taste 'O Eugene

How about another glimpse of our trip to Eugene? Eugene has a different feeling. Earlier I said it reminded me of Chico of the late 70's. There is more though, and it is pervasive in a mellow kind of way. The selection of markets was amazing. We found four small to mid size stores with organic and fresh foods. Picture Whole Foods/Trader Joe's but at a Mom and Pop corner-store size and friendliness. Bakeries were usually attached or nearby with an array of breads and pastries.

It was green everywhere, and for this boy from dry Central CA this was a welcome change. I'm guessing some of the gardening situations we have here would be no problem in Eugene. I'm guessing grass yards would grow easily, yet the majority of grass was in parks, schools and green swathes through the city. We saw at least three neighborhood vegetable gardens in different parts of town.

The absence of grass was on display in people's front yards. The vegetables and fruits though were there. Front yards were in many configurations and it made one wonder what was going on in the back of the house if this was the exposed side. It's hard to explain in words, but here are a few pictures of front yards. We would not be the weird ones with potatoes in the front if we lived in Eugene.


















This is the Friendly Street Market, one of the four we visited. Across the street was a development being started of mixed use buildings. The drawing showed what would be housing, markets and office space. This was one of the building that would be incorporated.




This was another version of a front yard "garden," though bikes were the product being grown. And also where Wilson got his bike.

Addendum to Little Car Story

I talked to brother Dan about my recollections about the TR-3 and he reminded me of a few things. The water jackets, the channels water travels through from the radiator to the cylinder walls to cool the engine, surrounding the back two cylinders were clogged with deposits. No cool water to them equals overheated engine.

Add to that the radiator had a hole in it for a hand crank to start the engine in emergencies which took up space for more water for cooling. I remember the hole in the grill for the crank, but not the radiator.

Here's what Dan said much better than I can: "The reason for the overheating was the space for water to the back cylinder and a half was clogged with deposits and water was not allowed to circulate as it should have. There was also a hole in the radiator for a crank starter that took up valuable water capacity. We replaced it with one without the hole. It was easier to push start than crank. Fun car. When I was looking for the Harley I told Brenda if I found a TR3 I would buy it instead."



This is a 1960, ours was an '59. If you look close you can see a slightly larger hole in the grill for the hand crank.

Think About This For a Bit

"Men sleep peacefully in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."

George Orwell

Just a Little Car Story

I like riding bikes. Though mostly for transportation now, I ride for the pleasure of the act. For many reasons long miles in the saddle doesn't appeal any longer, but just feeling the wind still does. As a youngster riding a bike gave me a freedom that could not be found otherwise.

Things started to change during junior high as with many boys. Cars started to show up on the radar. '57 Chevies, Mustangs, GTO's, even some older trucks. The teenage desire for a licence and wheels that most young men go through hit. But one day the focus changed.

On one of my usual bike rides around town I came across a car that would change my thoughts.


The Austin-Healey 3000 Mk. II. A red one just like this one.

My Sunday evening ride ritual now took me by this car as much as possible. I'd stop and look, and dream and wonder. Before the internet there were few options to gain more knowledge. So I started buying sport car magazines and learning more about the British Invasion of cars after WWII. A neighbor had a Triumph, but it was a poorer relative to the Healey. The low slung Healey was the ticket.

As with many young men reality hits and school and sports and other distractions moved to the forefront of my mind during high school. This was the early to mid '70s and the oil embargo hit the US. Bikes were still on my mind. The car I drove was a '63 Ford Ranchero that was the family work truck on weekends. Though I still have a fond spot for Falcons and Rancheros, but the British two seaters still festered in the back of my mind. A classmate came by one day when I was gone offering his brother's Healey for sale at $800. Upon hearing of this the next day I scrambled and conjured to gather the money, but to no avail. The Ranchero was replaced by an El Camino after a collision and the dreaming continued.

In the fall of my freshman year at the local JC my brother and I decided to pool our money and look for a car. A proper British sports car. The Healey was possibly going to happen, but none were to be found, at least within our budget. We eventually found a TR-3 for the worldly sum of $750. I put up all my savings of $350 and my brother contributed the rest, and a Columbia Blue 1959 Triumph was ours.



Though not without some learning experiences along the way. The trip home took four plus hours because of a blown head gasket found later. The first time I drove the car the hood flew off hitting the windshield, then glancing off my head and finally landing in the road behind me. This led to the discovery of the high cost of auto parts made in Britain and shipped to the US. As well as the lessons of the scarcity of parts for 16 year old foreign cars. Economics 101 on a personal level.

Eventually the TR-3 and the Garver Boys reached a truce and the car taught us that maintenance will be rewarded with a reasonably reliable British car. There was the Geography lesson we learned. The damp, cool climate of Great Britain led to the making of cars that don't always like the hot, dry of Central California. When the car ran it was a joy to drive and everything we expected. When it didn't, we were left to figure things out at odd times. As the time a friend and I were stranded on the wrong side of a rival town near midnight with a back seat full of oranges. A helpful MG owned helped us find the distributer wire had rattled loose and we were gladly on our way.

All of this is a prelude of a pleasant discovery last weekend in Eugene. Across from our motel was a British Car Restoration Showroom.



We didn't find any TR-3's but there were three Austin-Healey 3000 Mk. II's. I've never been to a concours, so this was more Healey's together than I'd ever seen in my life. One red, one British Racing Green and one a beautiful gun metal blue. Please excuse the pictures. The glare from the sun and the glass, or maybe it was me drooling, made for difficult shots. You get the idea though.



That's the green 3000 in the back with the blue one between a Jag XKE and MGB.



Then the car that started all. Nestled between two Jaguars a red 1962 Austin-Healey 3000 Mk. II. The car I that led me away from bikes. The car I had a chance at for a mere $800. The car that still turns my head. For Sale on the showroom floor. Waiting for me to drive it out the doors. Mine for only:



Maybe that's why I ride a bike.

The First of Many Hearty Thanks

This is the third of more than a few stories that will come from this past weekend traveling to Central Oregon and back. As Dickens said, "It was the best of times and the worst of times." Though in relation to the French Revolution much less blood was shed.

When we travel there is always the element of the new and exotic. But even more often is the experience of the old and already known shaded by the novel and fresh. Napa is that to me. John and Ashley have invited us into their world with open arms and hearts. This past Sunday they weren't even there but their presence was very evident.

How often do you get to stroll through a family's house with them nowhere to be found? Maureen and I got that opportunity Sunday night and the initial thought of just a place to rest our bodies while on the road quickly turned into more. It had been a long journey in many ways. Leaving a loved child twelve hours from home is problematic even when it is your third experience of such. Fifteen hundred miles in a car that doesn't quite fit adds to aching bodies and souls. Walking into a welcome house is a gift. To sit, eat and watch an old movie favorite with the comfort of familial amenity is something that the Holiday Inn will never be able to duplicate.
Thank you, Derrs.

What better way to celebrate changes in a family than watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding? That was the beginning of the karma that wouldn't end. The reasonably priced Cab turned cheap with a discount card continued the night. Movie, wine and cheese with no whine makes for a good time at my age. Great conversation is icing. All was present.

The morning dawned early, but good shades prolonged the rest. Sneaking out to finish the journey was expected, welcome, and we looked forward to the end with relish. Maureen and I went to one of our favorite Napa spots. We have heard of the French Laundry in Yountville for years, but discovered the garden a few years ago. We figure to never eat at the restaurant, but can always look at the food before it is prepared. As fellow food growers it is fun to see what other growers are doing.

We then were on to the Mustards Grill garden. Remember the new and novel with the old? Napa we've seen, but also try to discover something new each time. This garden was seen often but never visited, and the new gardener taking time to talk to us made the stop all the more special. Different techniques and style than the other garden that were not better just different. Just like all gardeners and cooks.

So again, thanks to John and Ashley for opening their door with Zoey and Socks welcoming us into their house.

P.S. Sorry, Eli. The Giants weren't on TV so we watched the movie about getting married.

Just Some Thoughts

This last weekend in Eugene reminded me of the Chico, CA I lived in 20 years ago. There are so many labels that tried to describe what we were living within the community: counter culture, alternative, hippie, etc. All were lacking, but there was a fuzzy-edged, laissez faire, live and let live attitude that was evident to me in Eugene this last time. Couple that with the desire to help others (All the second hand stores and philanthropic organizations) and help the Earth, there was no way you could not feel that this was a different place than much of America. Not worse, maybe better, but certainly different. Throw in the thought and energy that goes into food and food production, what better place to lay your head at the end of the day?

The Sort-of Long Way 'Round

We are home, sort of. Two thirds of this Garver clan is at the 'Zoo. Sam will shortly be on his way to Louisiana for more training, which is good. Maureen and I drove 1568.3 miles this last weekend to help Wils move into his apartment within central Oregon. I only got lost once and the GPS was actually correct in telling us to, "At the earliest possible opportunity, make a legal u-turn." I eventually did after observing a puddle of urine in the main aisle of a "sketchy" market in Esparto, CA. We then made an exit of said Esparto after asking directions from a soon-to-be intoxicated young man carrying out a 12-pack from the aforementioned market. Oh, what a night.

The offshoot of this travel has Wilson ensconced in Eugene with friend and roommate Preston. I have many stories to tell of Eugene, Goodwill stores, humans living alternative lifestyles, good food, bicycles, interesting people and a wonderful time with Maureen.

And by the way, to us roasting in Central CA today, Wilson called to say it was raining in Eugene and he thought maybe he should buy a rain jacket. Good thing he bought a bike with fenders.

P.S. I talked to Preston's girlfriend the day after this was written and they had both bought a rain jacket.

Just When You Thought. . .

It couldn't get more bizarre.




I've just been asked to change the classes I teach for the third time in the first four weeks of school.

Wilson is gone to Oregon. Maureen and I are driving up tomorrow night and Friday to help him move in properly.

We won our first girls water polo game. More to come so don't hold your breathe.

It took me 20 minutes at the end of this strange day to upload this picture.

Enuf said. Good Night!