memories


14
Mar 11

The one problem of disappearing weeds

And the next day of your life starts with breakfast. Or it does if you’re the lucky sort, a group of whom I am most definitely included. After a long, long Sunday — eight hours or so in the car, getting back home just before 11 — we figured on sleeping in and then a hasty breakfast.

So with a baseball cap on my head we headed out just in time to get near the end of the traditional breakfast hour. We visited the Barbecue House, where I ate so much as an undergrad (thanks, Chuck) that they knew me by name. Don’t care for the barbecue (it is a preference of style) but the CoAg students know they have the best breakfast in town right across the street from all of their major buildings.

We took my in-laws there when they visited last fall. They enjoyed themselves so much the New Englanders came back for a second time during that brief trip.

But they couldn’t have visited today:

Closed

It is Spring Break in Auburn. You take the off days where you can. So we went down the street — where we learned that metered parking is free downtown this week — near the corner of College and Glenn, to try the new Waffle House at the site of the former Daylight Donuts. I eat at Waffle House once a year, Christmas, but we wanted breakfast and IHOP was the next choice, so we pulled in.

I sat facing the campus and telling stories of things I’d forgotten. Just down the street lived so and so. And right over there was where my car died that one time and I became so frustrated that I forgot my mother’s phone number while trying to call and tell her I wouldn’t be visiting that weekend. (In my defense: she’d just gotten her cell phone and I’m terrible with numbers.) Here was how she and I met. This is apparently how Daylight Donuts closed down.

So we drove home. The Yankee went to her office for a little work. I mowed the lawn. Well, the front yard. But with our lawn mower you have to hit everything six times, so really it is like everyone in the neighborhood got their grass cut.

“But now I won’t know where to spray for weeds,” she said when she got back home.

That’s the thing about weeds, though. They grow back.

We walked to the grocery store this evening. It is a mile-and-a-half from the house, with a nice, new, wide sidewalk the entire way. Bradford Pears line the first half of the walk, and they are in full bloom. We go by a golf course, a subdivision, some local businesses and a few houses. We did the walk just as the sun was going down for the night. Cars were depending on their headlights as we returned, with pasta and spaghetti.

Today I’ve just been reading. Tomorrow I’ll dive into more productive things. Later this week I have grading to do and a few phone calls to make. There’s a lot of scanning to wade through this week, too. Also, the joys of class prep.

Tomorrow I’m going to do a few of those things, and we’re going to have breakfast again, because we’re lucky enough to be able to do that. I’m going to a documentary showing tomorrow night and, who knows what else will come up. Stop by, though, to check it out. Follow along on Twitter, too.


11
Mar 11

One more of God’s singers went home

This picture was made in August of 2001. Tonice put his arm around Ocie’s shoulder, “She’s my baby,” he said.

Ocie pointed out that the next January would be their 62nd anniversary.

ToniceOcie

Sadly, they didn’t get to celebrate together. Tonice died that fall. This was the last picture of the two of them we have. We buried him on a gray, muddy day with a copy in his breast pocket. Ocie missed him terribly ever after.

He was the most humble, honorable man I’ve known. My great-grandmother was as sweet and gentle a lady as you could meet.

I hope they’re getting to celebrate together today.


3
Mar 11

A silver lining in home repair

Anyone know what this is?

tile

After my class today, we had a nice presentation by a small group of students on advertising, one stood stuck around a little longer than usual. We talked about interviewing and resumes for two hours.

I’ve come to conclusion that the most rewarding moments of teaching aren’t in the traditional classroom environment.

So I’m packing up my things for the night and find I have a voicemail. A friend’s in-laws are in need. It seems they’ve had a catastrophic pipe failure that will require re-doing a room. And they’ll need tile. Lot’s of it. The local Lowe’s only has so much, but others near me had more, so I was sent on a mission to buy them all out.

I could sympathize in emergency repair, so I found myself visiting three Lowe’s tonight — I had to pick up a new garage door opener for our house anyway, so really only two of the store visits were for someone else. The very patient people working at the front of each store called their tile-needing customer and let her pay over the phone. I must have $600 worth filling up my entire back seat.

Got home to a delicious turkey wrap from Amsterdam, and then loosened the two screws from the old garage door opener. Opened the new one, wrapped the wires around the contacts, tested my installation (A success!) and mounted it to the wall.

This home repair only cost me $8.

Now let’s review:

When we first moved in we broke the thermostat. That cost $50.

Then I broke the shower head trying to fix a drip. That led to a larger problem which required plumbers, a drywall saw and an acetylene torch. It should have cost us about $1400, the plumber said, since it was a weekend. Fortunately the house warrant and the new shower head stuff cost us around $100.

And then we woke up one weekend to find the frozen contents of our refrigerator hanging out in liquid form on the floor. That cost us $50 (thanks home warranty) plus whatever we paid for ice and dry ice to preserve our perishables.

(We’d been in the house for two months by then.)

Then, in October, the dishwasher broke. Fifty more bucks. (And our second in-house electrocution.)

Then it broke again in December. We had it repaired during the holidays. Yep, $50 more.

This list does not include the bird feeder or the cable/Internet problems.

January we had a month off from from fixing anything, but lately the garage door opener died. For a few days we’ve opened it the old fashioned way, with the remotes in the cars, but now we’re boldly living in the 21st century again.

On the other hand, we haven’t had to re-do a room because roots destroyed pipes and brought a sewer into our home. So there’s that.


28
Feb 11

History, history

Back into the swing of things today. It was this evening before I realized I felt normal today. Weird. I’ve plowed through many long projects, pulled far more consecutive all-nighters and found myself in lots of anxious tests, papers, projects, work assignments and so on. But the comps last week beat me up far better than any of those things. I wrapped that up Thursday and I couldn’t get back to feeling normal (meaning exhaustion and general ease) until tonight.

I went to bed last night before 10 p.m., for example. That just doesn’t happen.

Anyway. Back to it today. Back to the phones and the email and the syllabus and grading and so on. Lots of grading this week.

Also rode the bike a little bit. A tiny bit. My pedals arrived — I’m not sure if I care for them — and so I did a few laps around the neighborhood sizing everything up. Feels like a good bike, the new Felt. Now I just have to remember how to ride.

It’s like riding a bike. Yes, I know. I learned to ride a bike on a gravel road. Merry Christmas, and thanks. It was no one’s fault in particular. My first big boy bike was delivered by Santa to my grandparents who, until the last few years, were so far out their county didn’t even realize they were out there. Necessity being a mother, I was taught the Jedi trick of balance, was pushed, pedaled and fell.

But if you fall on gravel you learn quickly how to prevent that from happening again.

[I fell off a bike just a few weeks ago, so take that gravel road! (My grandparent’s road is paved now) I couldn’t stop fast enough, and I had the choice between a curb or a port-a-potty. I got over the curb, saved the bike and managed to execute a perfect fall, distributing the kinetic energy of my motion as evenly as possible over the ground … and laughed as I was covered in mud.]

So maybe gravel doesn’t teach you how to never fall again. But you learn quickly all the same.

On this day in history, since I couldn’t anywhere to take pictures today, this is stripped directly from my Twitter stream and indulgently embellished beyond the 140-character limit.

In 1997 there was the North Hollywood shootout. It was a Friday. (I just clicked back through my calendar to be sure. You want depressing? Click back to the point you were in college and wonder why carpal tunnel is kicking in. Too many clicks.) I was a sophomore, so I’d probably gotten smart about morning classes by then. Let’s say I was just waking up. Two bad guys killed, eleven officers and seven bystanders shot. More than 2,000 rounds of ammunition were expended. There was a television movie, which was better than it should have been. Some of the footage was made at the scene of the shoot out, six years earlier. Also, the film used 40,000 rounds of blanks.

You can just imagine how that played out in production meetings.

“So we’ve got to find a way to get more than 2,000 rounds in 44 minutes. That’s almost a shot per second!”

“Have you seen the work of John Woo?”

“Right. Better make it 40,000.”

On this day in 1993 the Branch Davidian raid started the standoff in Waco. I was in high school (and, thus, am not clicking back that far to see what day of the week this lands on.) Four feds and six Davidians were killed as the ATF tried to serve a search warrant. Since that worked so smashingly they decided to lay siege for 50 days. Seventy-six people, including almost two dozen children, died in the infamous fire. Not the government’s best moments.

Something brighter then! Remember 1991? I don’t recall specifics of this, but I clearly remember when the Gulf War began. But on this day, 20 years ago, President Bush declared victory, seemed destined for a second term — if Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf didn’t swoop in — and life was grand. Oh, sure, some folks wondered about Baghdad and why the good guys didn’t march on in, but other than small details like that, life was good.

A few others wondered how they could spell Schwarzkopf and make it count on write-in ballots. So beloved was the general from New Jersey that even Madonna had a lyrical fling.

Can’t imagine that these days.

In 1983, there was the M*A*S*H finale. I don’t remember seeing it then. I wasn’t even in kindergarten yet, but I do remember the intro from the original airings. It was years before my mind could convince my eyes the helicopters weren’t flying backwards. Optical illusions are tough, I guess. It was longer still before I would see the finale. And I worked for a year or so at a television station that aired M*A*S*H constantly.

It is still in the top five, ratings wise. There are four Super Bowls and the farewell. I wonder how that show would do, today.

And, finally, in 1958 a school bus rear-ended a wrecker on a foggy morning in Kentucky. The bus fell off into a ravine and, ultimately, into a flood-swollen river. Twenty-six kids escaped. Twenty-six more, and the driver, could not get out of the bus and drowned. This is the worst school bus disaster in American history. The other worst bus disaster in the country was in 1988, also in Kentucky, also killed 27. (That one was a drunk driver hitting a school-turned-church bus, causing a vehicle fire that the victims could not escape.)

Because of these two incidences Kentucky requires buses to have more exits (nine) than anyone in North America.

The drunk driver that hit that bus in 1988, incidentally, received a 16-year sentence as a repeat offender on 27 counts of manslaughter. He was considered a model prison and was released after 10 years. (He declined an offered probation.) The church members, those most profoundly impacted by what was a truly national story, largely forgave him. The profound amount of courage that must take will always mystify. Now he lives just a few miles from the crash site.

You’d think you would get as far away from that as you can.

And now, for no particular reason, Dilbert:

Dilbert.com

I went back 20 years (more clicking) on this date. Dilbert has said exactly five things on February 28th. You’re welcome.


16
Feb 11

Trees at Toomer’s Corner poisoned

Out came the news today, some pathological deviant decided to do dastardly deeds. As of this writing the police are reportedly near an arrest and the fate of the trees is uncertain, but the situation is very grim. The best forestry specialists and horticulturists around work just down the street. If the stately old trees can pull through, they’ll be the people who make it happen.

But let me tell you a more important thing about my alma mater: Auburn and her family are stronger than oak and more sturdy than history. We’re going to say “Meet me at Toomer’s” for generations yet. The power of dixieland is going to be just fine.

War Eagle and plant a tree.

“I believe in the human touch, which cultivates sympathy with my fellow men and mutual helpfulness and brings happiness for all.”