APRILL BRANDON: POSTER CHILD FOR STUPIDITY

Having Aprill in the same line as "stupid" is truly redundant.

Drug and alcohol abuse seem to be what she lives and then records for The Advocate. She is one of the fair-haired children who works for the paper. I understand that she is there to add some youth to the paper; however her views are so skewed that she's the barfly equivalent of Myra. Inebriation demonstrated through different speech patterns is what passes as humor in Aprill's articles.

As if that isn't bad enough, she is now on the Board of Directors for CASA. That appointment is wrong in so many ways. Aprill's maturity level is on level with many middle schoolers. CASA deals with very serious issues on a daily basis and I am sure that a sense of humor helps the case workers get through the day; however, there's a difference in a sense of humor and no sense at all.

In my opinion, Aprill Brandon's appointment to CASA's board should be reversed. Until she understands the importance of sobriety in a fulfilled life, she doesn't need to have anything to do with such fragile children.

Youth should be enjoyed, but when given the responsibility of making decisions concerning children, it is time to grow up.

Friendships: Going with the Ebb and Flow

When I was young, my friends were from the neighborhood. We went to school together, played at each others' homes and enriched our lives with all that we shared. Squabbles were settled easily, toys were shared, secrets were traded and brothers were tormented. We would sleep out in my playhouse, and the boys would come in the night throwing tin cans, rolling off the roof to scare us; which it did. Their silly giggles outside, however, dispelled the feeling of goblins and replaced it with the goofy brothers we knew.

Changing neighborhoods, states, and friends proved to be a huge adjustment,but this life lesson taught me to expand my circle of friends. Games I had played up north were unknown in my new neighborhood. Give and take with the new friends allowed me to learn as well as teach. Since we could play outside year round, the major obstacles for me was enduring the scorching heat and prickly, painful sticker burrs. Didn't have any life experience to teach me that something so small, could hurt so very much. Bike rides replaced sledding. Rattlesnake warnings were as casual as warnings to watch out for traffic. Even though, I came from Yankee land, my new friends and I established bonds that were comfortable and enriching.

Early teenage years brought a new environment and more challenges. Economic changes to our family took away many possessions and yet our family managed. I was undergoing physical changes that drew me further into myself and books became even more a retreat for me. Being alone, was not my nature so by high school, I branched out and gather a very small group of friends to my heart. We were a diverse group from all sorts of family configurations and we accepted each other for ourselves and not monetary riches or lack there of.

Many nights were spent at other people's houses, because the situation at my home made the weekends unbearable. Looking back on this time, I realize that my mom was stuck in a toxic situation and when I would escape on Friday nights and return on Sunday nights, she was worn out from the weekend fray. I always let her know where I was and when I came home, she was grateful to see me. My friends' families were accepting of me and for that I am eternally grateful.

Off to college and my experiences afforded me such a variety of friends that when I look back on those years, I realize that my education of life didn't just take place in the classroom. Friends introduced me to facets of life that were so foreign to anything I had ever dreamed. Throughout my college years I kept a small handful of friends who were as diverse as the decade in which I found myself. There was Dina, my friend who took me into her circle of friends and protected me from myself. There was Mary, my Italian, hot-blooded, quick tempered friend, who rescued me and put me on a plane to leave the state. Other friends filled in my years at college and helped me discover my dreams and play a part in the fulfillment of them. And then there was Bill. (Someday, he will be a blog all to himself.)

I will stop at the college years and continue another day with rest of my life. Stay tuned.

HOME SCHOOLING: Multi-faceted Issue

People throughout the centuries have fought very hard to make sure that their children would receive the best education possible. For many years, girls weren't even allowed to attend school past the first few years. Even in this year, there are countries that don't value schooling outside of the home. This brings me to the mine field, otherwise known as Home Schooling.

My views are based on personal experiences, which aren't everyone's? My step-dad had to drop out of school at a very young age so that he could work. He barely could read and it was a family secret for years; which I didn't even know until I was older. Shamed that he didn't have formal education followed him throughout his life. Even without a formal education, he could read blueprints, build anything, weld in any environment, establish a successful business and be the best grandfather anyone could ever imagine. No, he wasn't home schooled and I know that home schooled children are academically superior to many other kids. My point for this aspect is that he didn't just miss out on reading skills, he was behind in social skills. Yeah, I know good home school "teachers" make sure that the kids are involved socially. Those experiences aren't the same as dealing with bell schedules, waiting your turn, paying attention in a diverse environment and many other school-specific activities.

It is ironic, being raised by an semi-illiterate parental unit, that I would go on and finish graduate school with my Master's in Education. Throughout my school years, the lessons I learned weren't restricted to the curriculum set before me. There were many nuances that I had to decipher and acquiring that skill prepared me for the "real world" outside of my educational settings.

Challenges in life have not blocked me, because of the training I learned in the classroom. Working in a group in the classroom and being stuck with the kid who didn't want to work on the assignment was a lesson onto itself. Sitting next to someone who was smarter and knew how to decipher the math on the board, taught me how to ask for help from a peer (no, not cheating, just "explain it to me in different terms.")

As a teacher I had many different types of learners in my class. When I would have a former home schooler arrive in my class, there were very obvious gaps in the learning of the child. Favorite subjects were over learned, while the less-liked subjects were sorely lacking. Parents who had home schooled had the best of intentions and multiple resources at their disposal. However, parents are meant to be parents and tutors after the school day, not the main teacher.

Parents love their children more than any teacher can ever, in spite of claims from teachers that they love their students. No one can love a child as much as a caring, nurturing parent. Since parents trust doctors, dentists, dance instructors with the care of their child, why would they think that they could provide a better education than a certified teacher? To me that is just ludicrous.

Parents, be involved with your children's education at their school. Volunteer. Read stories to the kids in the classroom. Become a teacher's aide. Whatever you have time and talent enough to do. Just leave your child in school and let them learn all that they can.

In all things, be willing to listen to people around you. None of us is really smart enough to go it alone.
~ John Clendenin

Books: A Sensual Experience

I've written about this long-lasting love affair I've had with the written word, before, but as is often the case I've remembered other things I thought I'd share.

When I was growing up, public library visits were frequent and I was left to indulge any flavor of books my hunger desired. For awhile I read every Dr. Seuss book that I could find. My mom was always practical and she did try to persuade me to read more mature books, but once I showed her that beyond the silly pictures were words whose meanings I had to decipher, she backed off. I was only in the third grade and I did stumble over the words, but when I sat cross-legged on my bed reading aloud, my room filled with palatable flavors of wonder.

Biographies intrigued me, as I wondered how someone would live a life worthy of being recording in such detail. Again, my mother brought me back down and explained that even when there was dialogue, it sometimes was embellished by the writer. That helped me relax, because I sure didn't want to remember every conversation I had to give to the author of my biography. Helen Keller was my favorite biography. That should have been a clue to how my life would take a dramatic turn later on.

Books were honored in our house. No dog eared pages, allowed. Sign your name neatly on the card for the librarian. Return the books on time. Read every day, even if just a little bit.

Now, people are giving up on the feel of the paper as it caresses the fingers turning the pages. Smelling the aroma of a freshly bought book or the musty aroma of the second-hand book that had escaped from your house years earlier. Those reminders of how precious books are, quickly are fading like yesterday's cut flowers. In spite of technology, we must contain to enjoy the experience of paper, thoughts, and ink. Books are treasures for young and old; for rich and poor alike; for city folks to country bumpkins.

Books are the great equalizer. Sit down with someone who loves books and all barriers disappear.

We need books.

We desire books.

Training a husband: Silk is better than Steel

When I married, I wasn't any spring chicken, so I did know a thing or two about the male species. With that being said, I've learned exactly how much I didn't know about the male species through my interactions with my husband of more than thirty years.

Let's start with the simple idea of expiration dates on milk. I remember clearly, waiting in the car and looking at the huge smile on my husband's face as he handed me the gallon of newly purchased milk, "I really had to look hard, but I finally found today's date!" I thought he was joking, until I read that indeed today's date was stamped on the milk jug.

Taking a deep breath, I calmly explained that even though I appreciated the effort of reading all the dates and finally snapping up the last of "today's date" he would need to go back in and find a date far into the future. I was afraid at this point to tell him to find a date far away from today's date, because I surely didn't want last week's expiration date on our milk. He did huff and puff, but finally he took the jug back into the store and slumped back, wordlessly handing me the milk. To this day, he finds the best date in all the dairy case.

Back when we first married, ice was made in metal trays in our refrigerator's freezer. I suppose that there was a manly rule somewhere that stated that the person who took the last cube was responsible for replenishing the liquid to the tray. I don't know, although I did ask. Aggravation met me many times when I wanted a glass full of ice and there were only two cubes left (one from each of the trays in the freezer.) It got to the point that I began to learn to drink lukewarm sodas and water, until I came up with a brilliant solution. When he wasn't looking I loaded up the freezer with ten ice cube trays, so that at least I would have ten ice cubes, if needed. Many the times I found out the filling all ten trays was an act requiring balance and the ability to hold open the refrigerator's door with my knee, because the freezer door was spring loaded. Finally, a few years ago, we were able to purchase the appliance of my dreams....a refrigerator with an ice maker. No more warm drinks and glares in my husband's directions have decreased remarkably.

We were blessed with my mother for transportation of our daughter from school, except for rare cases when she couldn't because of doctors' appointments. My husband assured me that it wasn't a problem, as his office was only a few blocks from our daughter's school. Armed with sticky notes and verbal reminders, my husband gallantly took up the duty of picking up our girl from school. Luckily, our daughter learned to be calm and not panic, even when she was left standing outside waiting for her dad.
A call to his office, "Dad, how are you?"
"Fine, Hon."
"Dad, how was your day?"
"Okay, what about yours?"
"My day was fine, Dad. Hey, Dad, did you forget anything today?"
A pregnant pause and then, "Nope, don't think so, Hon. Why?"
"You forgot to pick me up at school, I'm still here."
A very pregnant pause, "I'll be right there." He was there in five minutes and she forgave her dad.

Two days later and I won't repeat the above dialogue, as it was basically the same, except, she added, "Again!" to her last statement. So, we all learned an important lesson that week, in spite of adoring someone to the ends of the Earth, you can forget to pick them up from school.

What other lessons have I learned these last thirty some years with the man I love? I know that in spite of all of MY faults (I do have many) he loves me and would do anything to see me smile. He is my closest friend and confidant and the best milk buyer in the world.

Experiencing Life: One Cruise at a Time

If anyone had asked me ten years ago what my favorite activity was, taking cruises wouldn't have made the list.

A few years ago, my mom passed away and as we were leaving the cemetary in our friend's car, they said, "You know what we need to do? We need to take a cruise together." I sort of agreed and then preceeded to talk to them over the next few months, until I was convinced that a cruise would maybe help ease over the stress and pain we had been enduring for the past year.

My apprehension was concerning sea sickness for me and having enough to do on a seven day cruise. Well, fears aside, we finished making plans and began to get excited. We didn't know what to expect, so questions were readily answered by our friends.

Packing everything but the kitchen sink, we drove with our friends to Galveston for our July cruise. You could literally feel the excitement in the truck as we traveled to the ship. My first glimpse of the ship overtook me. I never had imagined how large the big, white boat could be. And that was just seeing it from the dock.

We finally unloaded the luggage, checked in and walked up the gangplank. From the first smile and "welcome aboard" we were transportated into a place where anything we desired would be provided with a warm eye-included smile and "My pleasure".

Our cabin had a window (on later cruises we would experiment with different floors and category of cabins) and plenty of room for everything we brought with us. Stashing our things in the little cubbies and closets, we began our seven days of wonder.

Since we had our friends to rely on, our maiden cruise went on without a hitch. Muster stations were found, shore excursions were booked, dinner plans made and foreign lands were explored. We enjoyed everything that was offered and went to bed each night with a smile on our faces.

By the time we returned to Galveston, we realized that we had found how we enjoyed our hard-earned vacation time and money. Cruises brought us closer as a couple and opened up new lands for us to explore.

Cruises have become the salve to soothe our overstressed lives.

Follow the bouncing ball: Sing along, everyone

When I was growing up, Mitch Miller had a television show and during that show, they would play a familiar song and on the bottom of the screen the lyrics would be highlighted by a bouncing ball. Remember this was way before video games concerning rock stars. You could sing along and make a fool out yourself and feel entertained. We did alot of silly things before cable television and DVDs to have a good time.


With that introduction to this blog, let me also remind you of the elementary tune,
"Do your ears hang low?
Do they waddle to and 'fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw 'em over your shoulder
like a Continental Soldier?
Do your ears hang low?"

Take those two things and wrap your mind around the fact that on The Victoria Advocate there is a cadre of posters who are wearing jock straps that are three sizes too small causing both their brains to be oxygen-starved. The only subject that they care about is SPORTS; not academics, social behavior or even traffic safety concerning the schools. Just sports; preferably one that involves playing with a pigskin. There is one poster who must sleep in a jersey, clutching his ball, because this guy is so hyped up on "Rah Rah Juice" that he is mean to anyone who even questions VISD for anything.

Okay, guys, let me tell you, there is more to life than football, honestly. School spirit is wonderful, but it must involve more than athletes.

I want to leave you with this song, that is dedicated to a stormy guy who is a comment bully on The Advocate website:

Do your Boys hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw 'em over your shoulder,
like a Continental Soldier?
Do your Boys hang low?

Hope he doesn't take offense, because LOL. (He uses "LOL" whenever he puts out some of his humor, so I hope he finds this as funny as I find his comments.)

Hey, if it was good enough for Fruit of the Loom to use the song in an ad for their underwear, I can, too.



Fun Ferret Fact: It is best to have your pet ferret's scent glands removed, unless your nose is not working well.