Sunday, October 31, 2010

THE WEEK

The people who were born out here say it's going to be a really, really, and one more 'really' hard winter.  So, I spent the first part of the week  trying to figure out how much propane I will need to get through to December when the propane man comes back.  As I have never lived anyplace where I was heated with propane, this was a small problem.  I am glad I have brothers for many reasons, and this is yet another.  Tom told me how to read the dial so I knew how much I already had on hand, they both told me that one hundred gallons should do it, and when I told John I was going to buy a space heater, he said, 1. get two, and 2. get an electric blanket. I did both.

Then , I went out to read the propane tank and saw that , even with the aforementioned instructions,  I had mis-read it and had about two hundred more gallons more than I had thought.  So, I called the propane dealer and cancelled my order.  Guess what? They ran my card anyway and brought me one hundred more gallons!  I have , now, enough propane to get myself 'pretty near' all the way to spring.  My Grandad Baker used to say that:  'pretty near'  all the time.   Well, I'll be 'pretty near' warm enough, I'm guessing.   I'm also gonna be broke for about two weeks , because of all the winterization arrangements.  Watch.  Just Watch.  This will turn out to be the warmest winter on record, and I'll be sitting here absolutely awash in propane!

The week was tough, with the state mandated assessments, and the kids were really tired.  Heck, I was really tired, and we were all cranky.  Three times, I asked a young lady to quit bouncing her ball against the lockers outside my room.  Three times she ignored me. Fourth time, I owned the ball.  What messed it up for her was that  on the fourth request, she gave me the classic 'look of innocence' and replied, 'I am not bouncing the ball, I am rolling it.'

Bear in mind, the young lady had just sassed a woman who, a thousand years ago, had been sitting in an art class, visiting with her friend.  Miss Donovon said to me, 'Sally, stop talking to Paula.'  And I, replied, 'I am not talking to Paula. I am talking to myself, and Paula is listening.'  And darned if she didn't let me sit there.  And, I'm sorry, but long deceased though she may be, that woman was a dummy for letting me get away with that.  She should have snatched me up and marched me straight down to Mr. Cunningham's office. Truth be told, I did a bunch of shady stuff when I was a kid, but I always gave up that 'look of innocence'  and , most of the time, I got away with it. I had two teachers who would call me on that, Mrs. Donna Cullison and Mrs. Mamie Large.  They both saw straight through me and my act. But, I digress.

At any rate, the basketball bouncer had just crossed a woman who , not only knew every trick in the book, had  pretty much pulled every trick in the book.  And,  that woman , also, knows that if you want to survive as a teacher, you cannot allow a student to 'take you there' and must be prepared, once you start something to finish it.  Which is why, normally, I pick my battles.  On any other day, I would have let that bouncing basket ball just keep bouncing. Then, she would not have sassed me, and would , still, have her ball.  However, as I said, I was tired.  I will give it back to her tomorrow. If she begs.

So, here I sit, the weekend has sped by, but all in all, I'm good.  I got all of my assignments submitted for my NAU class.  I even got a chance to scare myself by watching 'House of Wax', and now, I am sitting here giving out candy to trick or treaters.  Halloween may be one of those times when I miss Philly. In Philadelphia, I taught in West Philly and lived in Mt Airy.  My students never, ever came to my neighborhood.  Therefore, I could walk down to the laundry room in my jammies (at least, I did that til I figured out the guy who lived across the hall from the laundry room was a 'chubby chaser' and was checking out my 'charms'). Also, I could hand out Halloween candy while dressed in my robe.  Here, all the students know me so I not only have to put on clothes and comb my hair, I have to wear a BRA!  Don't want to traumatize the little tikes.   Oh well, nothing is perfect.

Everyone have a nice week.  

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Unlike Quilting and Gardening, Children are not a Spare Time Activity

Our family is quite diverse in terms of life styles, politics and religion.  Truth be told, we are composed of Democrats, Republicans, an outright Communist or two. Christians, Buddhists, Jews and Muslims, a few out and out atheists.   A Baker-Britton family reunion can  turn into a political brouhauha at the drop of an opinion.  We live and love to  'discuss'.  'Discuss' is the word my Grandmother Britton used to use when , over Sunday dinner, a good old fashioned throwdown would occur.  'They are not arguing, they are 'discussing.'  Sure sounded like an argument to me, but if Grandmother said something , you did not disagree.  'Discussions' they were. One big subject, when I was growing up, was whether Franklin Delano Roosevelt had been  the Messiah who had returned or the Anti Christ.

Different, though we are,there are  common threads that run through all of our lives.  We love our family, we love our country, and we love young people.  A love of kids and a desire to see them educated, self-sufficient and socially responsible adults runs  deeply  through both sides of my family.  My Grandmother Britton was a school teacher.  My very first Sunday School teacher  was my Grandmother Baker.

This is a tradition that continues in their descendants to this day.  Some of us are employed in the educational  field, but even those of us who are not in the education field choose to  spend their  'leisure' time in such activities as coaching, chaperoning, volunteering at the school.  We  were reared to understand that we owed a responsibility to the next generation,  

   If my mother had lived, she would have  been 92 years old last week.  Because it is her birthday week, she has seemed more close to me than normal, and believe me, she is never far away.  Mother had opinions, and she had no trouble voicing them.  If you saw 'Hello Dolly!' and remember that line where Dolly Levi says that her late husband said that money was like manure, it did no good unless it was spread around, then you know how my mother felt about her opinions.  In order for them to be of any use, whatsoever, it was necessary to spread them around.  I guess that's where I get it.

At any rate, my Mom,also, had a soft spot for kids, all kids.  By 'soft spot', I mean she enjoyed working with them, enjoyed guiding them. This woman was , by no means, soft on children. Good grief, no!   She  had firm ideas on how children  should be raised and educated. And, when I think about it, her ideas were  similar to those of my aunts and uncles.  Maybe, they couldn't agree on, well you know,  poor old FDR, but  all of them were pretty clear on how to appropriately parent.  As an adult, I have come to believe that, for the most part, they were  right on the money.  

I put out for you, a few of the Baker-Britton rules for rearing children.

1.  In the beginning, children should have very little, if any, say in how their lives should be run.  That is why the Good Lord gave them parents.  My mother thought that allowing a child to 'make his own decisions' before the child was  old enough to do so was just short of insanity. I was never real clear on when that magic number was, because when I would ask  her, she said 'it's different with everyone.  Some  people mature faster than others.'  I was pretty sure she thought I'd never be ready to make the jump.


 I can remember once when my sister and her friend, Susan, wanted to go to a party.  Trouble was, the party was on the same night as a MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship) function.  Mother told Libby she could make her own decision, and Libby decided to go to the party.  Then Mother told her no.  She and Susan would attend the MYF meeting.  Libby said, 'But you said we could make  our own  decisions..'  Mother responded, 'Yes, but you decided wrong.   So, I'm helping you  decide right."

2.  Children neither need nor benefit from  privacy.  Until I was in college, every phone conversation I  ever had was held in the kitchen.  That's where the one and only phone was.  Anything I said could be heard by anyone who wanted a cup of coffee or a glass of milk.  I had no concept of life being lived any other way. I was just thankful  we had a phone at all.

3.  There was no chance for the media to infuence us too much, because we had  not a scintilla of say-so as to programming. Daddy would come home, wash up, eat dinner and sit down in front of the television.  The only thing we did was get up and change the channel when he told us to do so.  To the channel he told us to change it to. It would never have occurred to him to ask us what we wanted to watch just as it would never have occurred to us to voice an opinion.

4.  If I had gone home and told my Mother that I was not going to do something in school, because I did not like the teacher,  I would not be sitting here talking about her.  I would, quite literally, BE with her.


My mother , my father and their sisters and brothers knew that rearing children was not a 'spare time' job.  They gave us time, they gave us guidance, and I know that all of their kids have done the same with their kids.   But, you know what they gave us the most ( and I've given this a lot of thought)?  They gave us the sense that they were sure of who they were, they were pretty sure about what was right and what was wrong , and they were not reticent about telling US what was right and what was wrong. Every last one of them was there for their kids.  They made sure we understood that they were there to protect us if we needed protecting.  They were there to rein us in if we needed that.  In short, they were THERE.  And , maybe that's what I see missing with so many young people today.  They are just not sure who will be there for them if the you know what hits the fan.  They have no one in their lives that they can depend on to keep the bad guys away from the door.  And that's just sad.