Well, that might be overstating my point, but
I taught math to sixth graders. Trust me when I say it helps to foster a sense of humor.
And sometimes a joke will spark an understanding, an aha! moment,
not to mention a shared experience. Never underestimate the power of shared laughter as a teaching tool,
because some students latch on to the offbeat as a way to store information that otherwise would pass right over their heads.
Studly Doright shot even par today. Apparently that’s a big deal.
I took two naps today, surely that trumps anything that happened on the golf course.
Peace, people.
A friend shared this on Facebook and tagged me in the post.
So far, no demons have been summoned in my cooking adventures, but just in case, I won’t be cooking anything from scratch.
Peace, people!
Coach Jim White, played by Kevin Costner, is a down on his luck football coach who finds himself at the end of the proverbial rope in McFarland, California, after losing his cool in a half time locker room incident at a school in Oregon.
McFarland is an agricultural community with a mostly Latino population. Students at the school Coach White teaches at begin their days picking lettuce and other crops at 5:30 a.m. before going to school and then end their days picking more before going home. And they run to and from every location.
Soon after arriving in McFarland with his wife and two daughters Coach White finds himself at odds with the head football coach and has to find other ways to augment his teaching salary. That way ends up being coaching cross country, a sport dominated by well-to-do schools.
I put off seeing this film because it seemed fairly predictable: Anglo coach finds himself embroiled in culture shock, but rises to the occasion lifting the Latino boys on his team along the way. Nailed it. But the story had so much heart, and I’m a sucker for heart. The youngsters who play the young athletes are endearing and likeable, and fun to root for.
McFarland, USA, is well worth the time, especially if there’s a kid in your life that might benefit from some good motivation. The viewers at Doright Manor highly endorse it.
Watch it!
Peace, people!
We’re rockers, me and the band
We play hard, driving drums
Screaming guitar, sexy bass
Boom, boom, thrum, mmmm, thrum
Straight through your heart and
Down into your soul, bypassing
The brain; no need for control.
We’re hard core, me and the band
Tight jeans and black tank tops
“Prayin’ for Eyebrowz” emblazoned
On the front; tour dates printed
On the back. Coming soon to a
Venue near you, groupies lined up
For autographs and souvenirs.
We’re imaginary, me and the band
Rockin’ in our minds, or at least
In my mind. My drums, my vocals,
My screaming Les Paul. A one-woman
Show straight from my brain to
Your Facebook feed: Boom, boom,
Thrum, mmmmm, oh baby, thrum!
peace, people!
Some things don’t need fixing
they’re fine just the way they are,
like mornings in the mountains
And evenings by the fire.
We don’t get perfect lives,
or even perfect days,
but moments of perfection
to savor along the way.
The trick is to recognize
these moments when they come:
a baby’s smile, a lover’s touch,
and acknowledge their existence.
To chase perfection is to lose it,
hold on too tightly and it’s gone
just smile to yourself in acceptance
and tuck the memory away in your heart.
My cats were glad to see me when I arrived home Tuesday afternoon after a week on the road. Studly Doright was, too. I could tell by the way he purred when I rubbed between his ears.
Today has been devoted to laundry. It could’ve been much worse, but Studly took it upon himself to do his own. I did a happy double take when he told me that he’d successfully pushed the appropriate buttons on both washer and dryer. He even took the time to learn how to properly use the Tide pods that I’m so fond of.
Studly has always claimed he didn’t know how to do the laundry. Now, this is the man who taught me the difference between a two-stroke engine and a four-stroke. He’s the same one who made sure I knew how to check my own oil and to change a tire. And yet somehow laundry mystified him until this past week.
Well played Studly. Well played.
Peace, people!
He’s really good with the grandbabies, too. No instructions necessary.
Peace, people!
I spent a lot of time driving on our nation’s interstates this past week and came to the conclusion that most people are competent drivers. I logged well over two thousand miles in the fast lane and encountered an abundance of courteous, conscientious motorists. But there’s always that one, or in this case, those two.
Just outside of Fort Benning, Georgia, a funeral procession pulled onto the interstate. That in itself was a little weird. The drivers around me reduced their speed and kept to the far left, so I followed suit. I figured folks around Fort Benning were accustomed to interstate funeral processions and knew the drill.
The procession continued for two miles before the lead police escort took an exit, and traffic began flowing normally again. All except for one car. Apparently the driver needed to take the same exit as the funeral procession and instead of going down to the next exit he came to a complete stop in the middle lane of a 70 m.p.h. interstate highway.
A white Ford pickup whizzed by me, passing on the right. My heart skipped a beat as I realized the pickup driver didn’t know that the car in the middle lane wasn’t moving.
“Errrrrch!” the brakes squealed as the truck’s front end dipped sharply. Amazingly he avoided hitting the car by mere inches. In my rear view I could see the pickup trying to get back into the left lane, but he never passed me again. I guess the close call slowed him down.
As for me, I’m just glad to be home and back in the slow lane.
Peace, people!
Just love this! Note the switch in the last stanza, and read more of Paul’s wonderful poetry at poesypluspolemics.com.
“Timeless”
Painting by Brigit Byron Coons
From fineartamerica.com
some love is timeless
sits beside you
when all the world’s
gone to the dance
some love is timeless
prays in your stead
when the pain
consumes faith
some love is timeless
holds your hand
when the nights
convey terror
some love is timeless
acts selflessly
tending your frailties
minding your pride
some love is timeless
uproots itself
more than content
to follow your dreams
this love is timeless
undeserved
it outlives
this faltering life
I’m operating my blog on cruise control right now. My trip to Illinois cut into my writing time, so this is what my readers get today.
I’d love to get your happiest four word stories in my comments box. Mine would be “They danced every day.” What’s yours? 
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 