September 18, 2012

The Little House on Pentoga Road

I’m thinking summer must really be over. Here’s the current forecast:

Updated: 4:00 AM CDT on September 18, 2012
Freeze watch in effect from this evening through Wednesday morning...
	Tuesday Mostly cloudy with a chance of rain in the morning, then partly cloudy with a chance of rain. High of 52F. Winds from the NNW at 10 to 15 mph. Chance of rain 50%.
	Tuesday Night Clear in the evening, then partly cloudy. Low of 25F. Winds less than 5 mph. Chance of rain 20%.
	Wednesday Mostly cloudy with a chance of snow and rain showers in the morning, then overcast with a chance of rain. High of 57F. Winds from the SSW at 10 to 15 mph. Chance of precipitation 50%

Hmm, I don’t know, I have to seriously consider the possibility that we’ll no longer be swatting flies, plucking ticks, or slumbering to the hum of the window fan for another six or eight months. 

Yesterday’s half day of work at the camp turned into a nine-hour affair, but that’s okay. I enjoyed fielding phone calls, taking reservations, smiling, giving a hug or two, and greeting 27 ministers and a bishop, as they arrived to attend a two-day retreat.

The group reminds me of a gathering of teachers before an in-service workshop.

When assembled in a small area, the group automatically separates into two groups, the rookies and the veterans. It's as distinct as when the Red Sea parted for Moses.

The newbies stick out like high school freshmen adorned with KICK ME signs taped between their shoulder blades. Each seems freshly scrubbed with rosy cheeks, full of smiles, and ready to spread the Word.

They stand to one side, elbows almost touching, with grins that show teeth, and are anxious, indeed eager, to shake hands. All must have taken Handshaking 101 at seminary from the same professor.

I observed one youngster yesterday who even shook hands with members of a women’s quilting group who were renting some of our facilities and had come into the dining hall to use the public restrooms. The child-pastor reminded me of Donny Osmond with just a touch of Elmer Gantry.

The veterans emit completely different personas. They seem to have vacillating attitudes that give one an impression of strength and familiarity. They want to get the conference started so each can get home to family, congregations, NFL, and fishing. The old-timers are real, genuine, and give off the same vibrations as older teachers. They are my favorite group.

Then the bishop and his assistant entered. He has the same aura as the superintendent of any given school district. The man was comfortably in control and like any good administrator, was escorting the featured speaker of the conference.

So, school teachers or clergy… one deals in children, the other in souls. Is there that big of a difference?

I spent an hour on the internet with Susie in Alaska last night getting my online class straightened out. Some of the mistakes I’ll simply have to live with. She showed me how to best work with what I have and for sure, I won’t make the same errors next semester. Susie is also very familiar with my class and will help me set it up next semester so I’ll know exactly where/what/why buttons and levers to push and pull to make the software perform without me having to stand on my head to see and read quite so much. I’ll begin to grade assignments today and hopefully, by tonight, the class will be streaming ahead at full speed.

And speaking of school… I get to attend a two-hour meeting Wednesday afternoon for new substitutes that is going to teach me how to teach! I hope my education students at UAS don’t find out about this class. The university will go broke.

 I’ve spent forty years honing my craft and instructing other teachers and suddenly, I find that everything one needs to know can be learned in two hours of instruction.

I’m going because it’s required and to meet other area substitutes and no doubt, representatives from the area school districts. I imagine rather than teaching us how to teach, they’ll be talking about procedure and expectations… and that’s a good thing. I’m looking forward to attending.

OUCH… I just came in from hanging out a load of white clothes. Sargie closes tonight and gets to sleep an extra hour this morning, so I thought I’d do a load of white clothes and get them hung out on the line before she feels compelled to. The washing was easy, but my fingers are telling me it’s a bit chilly out there.

I enjoy hanging clothes outside… it’s a pleasant childhood memory; that of running between the sheets on a summer day. I loved the way they smelled and felt on my face.

I no longer run between the lines, but if one watches very closely, he can still observe me smelling the sheets and quickly rubbing them on my cheeks while I take them from the line and place them in the clothes basket.

No new pictures today. It rained yesterday and I was office-bound. I hope today is better. I need to pay the property taxes and mail out Uncle Terry’s forgotten charger for his iPad. I’m going to attempt to limit my hours working to four. The next group that arrives at the retreat center will come in Thursday afternoon. There’ll be about a million women who will arrive for three-day fall conference.

So goes the tales from the little house on Pentoga Road…