The Haasienda on Shroyer…

This morning, my cousin Dana posted that she finally got to hear one of her favorite Christmas songs, “Snoopy’s Christmas” also known as “Snoopy vs The Red Baron.”

I always forget about this song.

As a little boy, I had this song on a 45-record which played on my Pluto record player.  I would play this song, along with “One Tin Soldier,” over and over.  Several times I recall my mother asking me to play something else.

I always thought she didn’t like the songs but she explained that it got tiresome listening to the same songs over and over.

Darren Paquin was my senior year high school advanced composition teacher.  I learned an incredible amount from this great teacher and lady and still, today, no project, small or large, begins until I’ve fully outlined the project as she instructed and insisted.

So, continuing with 35 years of following Mrs. Paquin’s orders:

1. Our first meeting, September 1980
   1. I was standing with the marching band alongside the old Elwood Junior High School gymnasium on North A Street waiting for the Elwood homecoming parade to begin.
   2. I saw our new principal, Gordon Paquin, walking toward me with a lovely, cheerful looking lady with platinum blonde hair.
      1. “Mr. Jolliff, I want to introduce my wife, Darren Paquin. Hon, this is our high school’s drum-major, Darin.  Darin/Darren, meet Darren/Darin.”
      2. “I absolutely love your name!”
         1. Those were the very first words spoken to me by someone who would later have a terrific impact on my life.
         2. We spent several minutes chatting and I recall her mentioning something about her grandmother and an endearing nickname they shared.
   3. After the homecoming game, I ran into Mrs. Paquin at the homecoming dance as she accompanied her husband who was chaperoning.
      1. We sat on a bench outside the cafeteria until the music made it impossible to hear one another.
      2. She sensed I had no desire to participate in the festivities and suggested we move toward the front office where we seated ourselves on another bench to continue our engaging conversation.
         1. We discussed music and I learned all about her singing career and will always remember her describing one performance where a fly intruded her opened orifice as she held a long note!
         2. We discovered we shared a similar sense of humor and despite our twenty-three year age difference, multiple interests that promptly formed a bond that evening.
   4. Over the next several years Mrs. Paquin and I stole many opportunities to chat during various school or community events.
2. Mrs. Paquin begins teaching at Elwood Community High School, 1982
   1. The English department gained a dashing ball of energy in the fall of 1982, the start of my senior year.
   2. I had Mrs. Paquin first semester for her advanced composition class and it was a significant landmark in my academic career that would serve me skillfully and splendidly.
   3. After I submitted my first written assignment she pulled me out into the hallway before class began.
      1. She held my graded assignment up before me, hiding the grade, and I feared I’d not followed the assignment correctly.
      2. “This paper is outstanding.” I was relieved. “You’re not the typical high school writer. I am going to challenge you and I am going to push you. You may not always like my critical encouragement but I will get the job done and so will you.”
      3. And, it was one of the best semesters of my academic life; I’m chuckling as I think about that hallway meeting because my own students are challenged and pushed, and although they may not readily appreciate my critical encouragement, the job gets done!
   4. One evening while working my part-time job at the Elwood Public Library, Mrs. Paquin entered and we began one of our typical, familiar chats.
      1. [We had just begun the process of preparing for the big semester project, the term/research paper]  She looked around. “You are so lucky to have all these research opportunities right here where you work.”  I agreed.  “But you’ve got to go beyond what’s in this building.”
      2. And then I learned one of the most valuable lessons in life as a writer, historian, educator, performer, director, and person.
         1. She continued, “Everything you do, from here on out, must be treated like an iceberg. Do you know what I mean?”   I did not. 
         2. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil from the nearby card catalog and drew an image of an iceberg with 3/4 of the image below the line indicating the waterline. “Your work will always be the part of the iceberg others will see.  Three-fourths of your work – your research, drafts, editing, more drafts, more research, more editing – will be like the part of the iceberg no one will ever see. Sometimes, that three-fourths of the iceberg – your hardest work – will never be seen by your readers or audience. Accept it and respect it.  It’s all a part of the process.”
      3. I accepted and respected it.  And what is more, I’ve never stopped.
      4. Ten years later, my younger siblings could not believe she was still using several of my assignments and my research paper to show subsequent advanced composition classes.
      5. Mrs. Paquin pushed me and continued to raise her expectations to create new challenges for me in class and with my assignments.
      6. Thank you, Mrs. Paquin!  I am still following your instructions:
         1. Always, always, always outline your project.
         2. Research until you’ve “researched yourself to death” and then research even more; there’s always something new to find and something that will lead to something else informative and exciting.
         3. Write with the mind but always from the heart and your gut: passion.
         4. Outline… make adjustments as needed but don’t stray from the outline; it’s your roadmap that will eventually turn into your treasure map.
         5. If you find your writing is running into roadblocks go immediately back to your outline and find where you’ve gotten off track from the outline.
   5. The 1983 ECHS Variety Show
      1. I was having difficulty figuring out what to sing.
      2. Mrs. Paquin and I even discussed singing, “Do You Love Me?” from FIDDLER ON THE ROOF.  I can never hear the song without thinking of Mrs. Paquin who introduced me to the song; this coming spring a group of my private students will perform FIDDLER ON THE ROOF at Centerville High School… 
      3. Mrs. Paquin decided the variety show should be my moment and not a shared moment.
      4. She had gone to the public library and located a book with a particular song she felt summed up so many things about me, “I’ve Got To Be Me” from GOLDEN RAINBOW.
         1. It was both my senior solo for the ECHS 1983 Variety Show and my audition ballad for The Ball State University Singers.
         2. I still have the same copy of music Mrs. Paquin gave me 35 years ago. [Photograph below]
   6. For our high school graduation it was decided our class would sing a song together; something different.
      1. Mrs. Paquin selected the song and taught the entire senior class during our commencement rehearsal.
      2. We learned Diana Ross’ “Do You Know Where You’re Going To?” from MAHOGANY.
3. “…the smelly ones, too” 
   1. I had begun my second year of teaching when I received an invitation from Mr. & Mrs. Paquin to sing at their daughter’s wedding.
      1. Although we’d run into one another during my home visits from Ball State University, we selected a summer afternoon for a nice long visit where we would discuss music for Dawn’s impending nuptials.
      2. We sat in the back of their backyard at a table near the golf course.
      3. We chatted. We laughed. We planned. We laughed. We chatted more. We laughed more.
      4. We began discussing the realities of classroom teaching and still managed to laugh.
         1. I mentioned the newest edict from my principal stating teachers were no longer allowed to hug students.
         2. Mrs. Paquin explained that she could never follow that rule, ever.
         3. “If Gordon ever came into my classroom and said, ‘Darren, you can’t hug students any longer,’ I’d nod, ‘Okay,’ walk back into my classroom, shut the door, and hug every student. I’ll always hug students… even the smelly ones.”
   2. Through the years we would continue to chat about teaching, life, our dogs, raising teenagers, and always, there was laughter… and love.
4. December 12, 2018
   1. After I graduated, Mrs. Paquin began the journey of fighting for her life.
      1. A pacemaker.
      2. An AICD (defibrillator)
      3. Two heart transplants; she was the first patient in Indiana to receive two hearts
      4. A kidney transplant from a former student.
      5. I am grateful to those beautiful organ donors who gave this much-beloved lady twenty-six additional years with us since her first 1992 transplant.
   2. Thursday morning, December 13, 2018, I received an email notice from my blog site that someone had commented to one of my posts from 2012.
      1. This is the article:  Darren Paquin: An Outline for Living
      2. I read the posted comment.
      3. I reread the posted comment.
      4. I got on Facebook and checked several pages and found nothing to corroborate the posted comment’s message.
      5. “This wonderful woman that you have profiled found her spot in heaven last night. As for me, she will never be forgotten. Taking a part of me with her, feeling empty. So much love for her and her family. Rest peacefully Mrs. Paquin.”
      6. The post was from the former student who had lovingly shared her own kidney with Mrs. Paquin.
      7. Within several hours, the news was confirmed.
5. The next chapter...
   1. One of the brilliant lights of my wonderful educational and academic journey is gone.
   2. Mrs. Paquin is now an angel and since I do believe in angels and believe they do exist in our lives, I believe Mrs. Paquin is still a part of my life.
   3. While I am heart-broken Mrs. Paquin’s earthly journey has ceased, I will forever be grateful for what she taught me about writing, teaching, and life.
   4. Mrs. Paquin’s obituary
   5. So, Mrs. Paquin, may choirs of angels sing you to your eternal rest… and now, will you please excuse me – I have more research and writing to complete before heading to bed.
   6. Know you are loved…

Yesterday was a fantastic day of finally getting out of the house and exploring some seasonal concerts with my neighbor lady and her friend from Belgium.

10:00 AM we listened to an hour or more of the Carillon Brass from the Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra.

11:30 AM we crossed Main Street to take a peek at the Rike’s window displays in the Schuster Center lobby. I often check them out a dozen times while they are out.

12:10 PM we walked a few blocks to Westminster Presbyterian Church for their Noontime Carol Sing. Lovely music from the bell choir, organist and a local high school choir. Afterward we browsed the store filled with gift items made from all around the world and then enjoyed a delicious lunch also shared by Westminster’s gracious folks.

By 2:30 PM I was napping with the dogs.

The remainder of the evening was spent reading, watching JEOPARDY on Netflix and several documentaries.

I woke this Saturday morning a bit fatigued. The abdominal pain, though greatly diminished, was gnawing ever so slightly that I remained in bed with books, documentaries, more JEOPARDY, and of course, my Paw Pals.

By 3:30 PM I was hankering for some goat meat soup at Taqueria Mexican and found myself showered and on the bus downtown where I ate a large bowl of soup. I hit the Neon theater for THE FAVORITE at 7:30 PM and at 10:10 PM am about a half mile from home.

The day has been dreary and terribly rainy. Not cheery at all. However, I made it cheery and hope to increase that bounty as I greet four dogs.

It was a tender moment as Lynda Johnson Robb, daughter of President Lyndon Johnson and First Lady Ladybird Johnson, paused for a moment at the State Funeral in the Capital Building’s rotunda, and shed some tears.

It was a beautiful reflection of the child of the 36th Democratic President honored the 41st Republican President lying in state.

When Lyndon and Ladybird Johnson left the White House in 1969 following the inaugural ceremonies, George and Barbara Bush traveled to Andrews Airforce Base to bid them farewell.  George Bush also requested his Texas staff to step outside the office when President Johnson’s motorcade passed upon his return to Texas.

Barbara Bush told Ladybird, “We Bushes love you Johnsons.”

How beautiful!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

When George Herbert Walker Bush was inaugurated in 1989, it was the 200th inaugural anniversary of another George’s inauguration: George Washington was inaugurated in April 1789.

GHWBush would also share a common bond with our nation’s second president, John Adams. Both presidents Adams and Bush would one day see their sons step over the presidential threshold.

Our nation’s 41st president, George Herbert Walker Bush, has died at age 94.

The past year or so, I’ve hated seeing the images of President Bush in such failing health. The poor soul just looked miserable.

I have adored Barbara Bush since her days as the nation’s Second Lady. It was heartbreaking to know George and Barbara Bush we’re separated this past April. It seemed only a matter of time before we’d hear the breaking news of his passing.

Rest In Peace, President & Mrs. Bush. I will miss your earthly presence.

At the last minute, I decided to head downtown for my favorite Mexican restaurant on East Third Street.

I got on my connecting bus at the downtown terminal and a few seats ahead of me was this little baby in a stroller. I began my usual ritual of getting her to smile.

From behind me and across the aisle came up voice, “Man, you seem like you are a load of fun. I wanna grab a beer with you.”

I wanted to assure her that I was a load of fun but did not like drinking beer.

I think her and declined her invitation.

“Are you sure? You just seem like you’d be so much fun to have a beer with.”

I explained I was meeting a son for supper and thanked her, again, for the invitation.

At my stop, she followed me off the bus.

“We could grab a quick beer and you can go have dinner.”

I thanked her, again, and said that I could not.

“Well, can you at least give me some money? I don’t got a cent to my name.”

I told her I don’t carry cash on me and she got pretty irate.

“You could at least buy me a couple beers with your credit card.”

I continued walking away toward the restaurant as she showered me with a barrage of profanity and yelling what an insensitive person I am.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s Wednesday and I find myself ensconced in one of my favorite writing areas at the downtown Dayton Metro Library.

Last evening, my neighbor lady, Kay, her daughter, Laura, and I went to El Toros for Taco Tuesday, and sat for a while at Laura’s house, continuing our laughter and stories.

Kay and I moved along downtown to The Neon theater to see CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? A delightful comedic tragedy, somewhat dark, but light due to the humor and amusing moments.

Today, I’m working from the library to accomplish more research and hopefully, a few hours of writing.

Make it a great day!

I’ve reunited with the television series with which I grew up, LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE.

It’s national adoption month and tonight while watching the episode where James and Casandra are brought to Walnut Grove, it struck me how many adoptions took place on LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE.  The Ingalls family and their friends and neighbors

How wonderful!

Also, the actors portraying Charles and Caroline Ingalls, Michael Landon and Karen Grassle, adopted children off-screen.

James, during his first night in the Ingalls home, “I almost forgot what it felt like… to be safe.”

MIAGD: Make it a great day

https://youtu.be/PjFoQxjgbrs

Anytime it rains on a Monday Karen Carpenter’s cheerless song, “Rainy Days and Mondays” always grabs hold of my mind and sticks.

I don’t mind Mondays but rain is always preceded by sinus pressure and headaches.

Last night I went to a movie at The Greene with six former students, now in college, home for the Thanksgiving break. More will return by midweek. After the movie we grabbed some EO Burgers across the street from the theater and closed the place down, continuing our chatter and laughter outside for a good thirty minutes.

It was fun and refreshing but my body is paying for it, this morning. Combined with the rain induced headache I am not off to a good start.

I’m gifting myself an addition 90 minutes of sleep after taking my morning meds and something for the sinus headache.

Then, I shall make it a great day.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Dear Mrs. Luurtsema,

I’ve been thinking of you and Mr. Luurtsema and am delighted to read that he is being moved from ICU.

I am not good at math.

I probably never will be.  And, that’s Okay.  I know where my strengths are in other areas of life.

In first grade, I often sat on the curb during recess at Washington Elementary School because I could not grasp the bundle of ten sticks plus another bundle of ten sticks equaled twenty sticks.  In my mind, they were simply two bundles. I was frustrated because I was simply told to “fix my errors” but the teacher never sat down with me to explain how these bundles worked.

I forged through the remainder of elementary school and somehow kept my weak math-head above water.

Then, in 8th grade, Mr. Garner persisted in trying to help me understand those decimal points and percentages.  He told Mother, “Darin has this huge mental block with decimal points.”

It was the first time I recall hearing the phrase “mental block” and I assumed I was special needs in math and that I’d never move through it.

I am thinking you were at the junior high, too, and moved out to the high school with us.  If so, I must not have had you in class.

Then, high school arrived and I was in your classroom on the second floor, northwest area of the high school, long before the new middle school and auditorium were added on.

Algebra had arrived.

The other students in my class were at ease and gifted in math.  Sitting next to my good friend, Ann Morgan, who was brilliant in everything, did not help me absorb math skills.  But, I could still separate my inner humiliation by marveling at her tremendous gift.

Within a few weeks, you were spending additional time with me in class. I felt bad because I knew you needed to assist several of my other classmates. However, you never seemed rushed or impatient.

“Is there a time you can come in to meet with me before school or maybe stay after school?”

And, we did.  After school twice a week.

Patience.

You were so terribly patient and never once did I feel any frustration from you for my lack of understanding.

Persistence.

You never gave up from September through May. Even when we had moved long into the abyss of my complete foundering.  I began not turning in assignments but you encouraged me to turn them in because “I may find something where you’re connecting.”  I turned them in, but there were no advances.  Regardless, you never once treated me as “that kid” in your class.  You greeted me with the same enthusiasm as you did the Ann Morgans in class with me.

Presence.

During our after-school specials, I never detected “I really need to be doing other things!  I’ve tons of papers to check and tests to grade.” You sat down next to me, propped your elbow on the student desk in which you were sitting, and reached your other hand/arm to the back of my student desk as though to embrace me with, “We’ve got this!  We’re in this together.”  I never ate lunch and one day I went up to my locker, outside Mrs. Yate’s biology room, and you were in your room eating your lunch.  You stepped out to monitor and spied me, “Darin, are you eating lunch or in a class?” No. “Do you have a second?”  Yes.  You had something new to share: “Maybe looking at it this way will help you get yesterday’s work.” And, we sat the remainder of the lunchtime, your lunch uneaten, working, together.

Productive.

I know I rarely accomplished fully understanding math but you never allowed me to feel the sense of non-accomplishment.  There was always an encouraging phrase or even an encouraging tone in your voice that kept me from feeling like a complete failure.

I failed your class.  Not surprising.

I retook remedial-Algebra my junior year with my cousin, Stan Daugherty, the basketball coach, driver’s education teacher, and math teacher.  I passed.  I felt accomplished, but I knew I had only passed the course, not the full embrace or love for math.

One day, you approached me at my locker and said, “Coach Daugherty said you are doing a good job in his class. I am so proud of you. If you ever need any help, stop by my room.

Occasionally, through my college years and adulthood, I was confronted with the horrors of math beyond the basics of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, but they were rare.  Even the four basics, performed in front of others, had me swimming in the perspiration pool.

Mother always insisted, “Do your best.”

I did.

She knew my math-life was a tremendous struggle and never once degraded or punished me for “not getting it” or “not working hard enough.”  This served me well as a future adoptive parent who had five sons who were academically delayed by three to four years.  Only one son struggled with math but that was waaaay past my own understanding. The Math Gods were gracious to me as a parent.  “But look at your talents in music, English, and history?” Mother would stress.  “Not everyone is good in everything, and please stop comparing yourself to Ann [Morgan] and Angie [Knotts].” And Mother always insisted she was proud of everything I did and for always trying my best when I felt failure nipping at my heels.

So, thirty-nine years (1979-1980, my freshman year) later, why is this note even important?

It’s important because while I did not grasp math concepts, I did grasp teaching techniques from you that have been invaluable in my thirty-four years of my own teaching career.

Patience. Persistence. Presence. Productive.

You taught me the most valuable tools to teach my own students.

Early on, when a student wasn’t grasping a concept in music (voice, saxophone, piano, acting, etc), I always approached it from memories of your classroom when I felt like an idiot or frustrated and put myself in my own student’s place. I gave them the “Luurtsema Lift!”

Several times a month, I share with a student or two my struggles with math and how we sometimes have that one subject or a particular method that’s not clicking, but there are different approaches in figuring it out.  99% of the time, the student and I succeed. There’s an occasional 1.999% that just doesn’t make the finish line. However, there are always so many successes and strengths to celebrate and eventually, that skill that was not clicking begins to show sparks that turn into tiny flames.

I failed algebra. But I learned so much more from you as a teacher.

No longer do I look at my algebra attempt as a failure because while it is simply a small piece that makes up the complete mosaic of my life, that experience with you prompted me as a teacher to draw upon all the wonderful techniques and qualities you shared throughout your teaching career.

Now that I have thirty-plus years of former students teaching and performing, or still participating in the performing arts while pursuing other careers, I can see the chain from you to me, to my own students.

A part of You now lives on in my own current and former students.

Thank you.

Thank you for never giving up on me as a student and for never allowing me to feel stupid.

And, mostly, thank you for giving me so many tremendous tools on how to be a successful teacher and to always keep the heartfelt love for each student regardless to whether they’re the top dog or struggling.

Monday’s teaching schedule started at 1:00 PM and wrapped up at 10:45 PM.

I’m tired.

Tuesday’s lineup begins at 1:15 PM and will finish by 11:00 PM.

I’ve pulled into the bed with three pooches snuggled tightly next to me and some Erma Bombeck writing with which to wind down.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s barely 22F but the sun is out and the sky is a brilliant blue.

I really want to be out with my camera but I don’t know if with my crappy sinuses and lower gut and back aches if I am up to moving through Woodland Cemetery to capture the autumn platter of colors.

I’ve returned to my room with research. Perhaps later I will venture out when the temperature rises to 35F.

Make it a great day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

The Quartet was unrelenting I’m wanting to begin their day at 7:00 AM and I ignored them until at last they won.

I let them out to potty and returned to bed until 8:15 AM.

They were fed and I decided to have just cereal and no coffee. Had I elected to have my morning coffee I would have noticed, then, there was no power before sitting down at my computer to discover the entire house was down.

Via Facebook I learned a nearby transformer was down. We seldom lose our power in this little nook of Kettering. When The Miami Valley was hit by Hurricane Ike, we lost power for four hours when many were out for seven to sixteen days.

9:01 AM, power was restored. There are flashing clocks and I must remember to adjust the lamp-timers.

I’m feeling an urge to go take photos at Woodland Cemetery. We’ll see.

Make it a great day!

Thursday morning found me enthusiastically eager to kick into the day with tons of research and writing but the sinus pressure/headache returned me to the second floor bed chamber with four enthusiastic dogs who were delighted to snuggle.

11 AM I returned to the first floor and combined all the ingredients I had prepped the night before into three large pans of delicious soup. It was based on a recipe Heidi Andersen shared, but I gave it my own twist.

I spent time researching and by 2 PM I was finally tackling the leaves in the front yard. It would be quite easy if not for the walnut tree’s tiny little stems that require the rake and not the lease blower. I also deposited a dead rabbit over the fence and into the easement, a courtesy from one of the dogs.

At 4:30 PM, my adorable neighbor lady, Kay, delivered some chicken noodle soup, and we got to chat for about 45 minutes.

At 5:30 PM, while waiting on the bus for downtown, I got to chat with my other neighbor lady across the street, Kate. At 94 years old, she was out front raking her own leaves and having a grand time.

I spent the remainder of the evening at a really neat seminar by the Next Chapter Collaborative. It was designed for folks over 50 who are possibly seeking a new career, a startup business, retirement, volunteering, etc. It was quite an adventure of exploring so many fantastic possibilities. I got to meet some super new folks and got to see Steve and Lorrie Makofka.

Now, I’m headed back home with thoughts and ideas abound, and a full schedule, tomorrow, ending with Centerville HS’s production, INTO THE WOODS. I’ve students playing the lead roles of Baker, Baker’s Wife, Cinderella’s Prince, and Cinderella’s Father. I’m so very proud of these students. I also have nine students performing and/or presenting for Fairmont HS’s A Cappella Festival, Friday and Saturday.

Photos: downtown Dayton; two of my students, sophomores Mitchell Goecke and Katie Kress as The Baker and Baker’s Wife in INTO THE WOODS.

b

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s Wednesday, my Friday, and I’m enjoying sunshine streaming through the windows, blues skies, and loving pups.

Sinus pressure and discomfort is also with me making it quite difficult to focus.

Other than that, the goal of making it a great day is on track.

Make it a great day.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Wind!

Lots and lots of strong wind. It has definitely cleared many of the neighborhood trees holding on to the last minute to deposit their leaves on the ground.

I worked from my bedroom with my four favorite Snugglers close at hand.

Now, it’s almost 1 PM and time to begin my teaching day which lasts until 10:45 PM.

Make it a great day.

8:00 AM morning view from my bedroom

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Everything is soggy from yesterday evening’s rain showers.

It will be the week’s end before I can attempt to gather up the leaves until they’re dry as we’re expecting rain the next several days.

Sunday was another long day of teaching but students were fired up for several different auditions and the Centerville HS gang is on fire with their INTO THE WOODS roles. I’m so excited.

I’m eager to meet my next four new students beginning today.

The dogs, still on the daylight savings time we’re ready to eat at 7:00 AM while I was trying to continue with sleep. At 7:45 AM I finally gave in as Harrigan would not stop her “humanesque” chatter right beside my pillow.

It’s an adjustment for me, as well. I’m working from bed this morning.

Here’s The Quartet, and here’s to making it a great day.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

The day began an hour later and the only good thing about today’s time change is that it ushered in a fiery red sky that evolved into a breathtaking morning of sun and the familiar autumn pallet.

I’m wondering how true the legendary sailors’ call is: “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight; red sky at morning, sailors’ take warning.”

The teaching schedule resumes and I’m eager to see the students and ready to tear into all they’ve got on their musical plates. I get to meet five new students this week and am excited to work with them.

I’m workin from bed this morning while half-watching The Smithsonian Channel’s Aerial series. Wyoming is just getting started at our new 9:00 AM.

Make it a great day.

From my bedroom window.

I only teach four weeks for each month.  If there are five days in a month, I do not teach those fifth days.  For October, there were five Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so I took those days off this past week. Tomorrow afternoon I return to my regular schedule.

Today was beautiful and I can only imagine how the great lyricist, Oscar Hammerstein II, would have penned it.

I joined Amy Dallis, and her darling daughter, Carissa, for lunch at the 614 Diner, and afterward we went to Neon Movies to see TEA WITH THE DAMES.  Again, it is a lovely, witty, and endearing vehicle of four truly great ladies of the stage and screen.

I returned home to four very excited dogs who’ve spent the remainder of their evening napping in my study as I watch various videos.

Tomorrow, I return to teaching with two new students, and then three other new students the remainder of the week!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

We finally have sunshine on this brisk Saturday morning.

We have gone five days with rainy days and grey skies and this morning the seasonal imprisonment was abandoned for bright blue skies illuminating the beautiful multicolored hand of nature with the trees.

Little to report for today. Lunch and a movie, TEA WITH THE DAMES, with Amy Dallis and her daughter, Carissa.

Other than that I am enjoying the sunshine while working from my bed with a snoozing Quartet.

Make it a great day!

Dewey Smith was born in Monon, Indiana and found his way to Elwood, Indiana, where he married my grandfather’s sister, Evelyn Barmes.

Uncle Dewey worked at the Elwood Post Office and as a little tyke, Mother would allow me to climb the long stretch of stairs to take outgoing mail to the window to hand over to Uncle Dewey.  Not only was I proud of this big task, but it was also an important moment when the tall handsome gentlemen, always with a smile, leaned over to address me.

“Well, hello, Mr. Jolliff. How can I help you, today?”

There was always a familiar tone, but always still on an adult-to-child professional level.

Aunt Evelyn passed away several years before Uncle Dewey.  In the meantime, he kept busy with family and friends and took to learning email and even fully participating in an online group associated with our hometown.

This evening, I ran across an email from Uncle Dewey that shared some of his favorite memories of the Barmes family.

MIAGD: Make it a great day!

The rain began at 10:00 AM, Wednesday morning, and has barely let up these past 28 hours, bringing grey skies, strong winds, and an all-around crappy feeling to everything.

This morning, from my second story bedroom window, I saw the rushing river in the high school’s parking lot rounding the corner onto Shroyer Road, in front of my house, stampeding north and downward.

I returned to my bed with research and an eventual nap.

I woke and saw it was only 11:45 AM.  Ooops!  I had set back all my clocks Saturday night thinking it was the weekend we did.  It’s this coming Sunday morning.  I didn’t feel like resetting all my clocks, and since I only taught Sunday, with the remainder of the week off, I only reset my study clocks.  So, it was actually 12:45 PM.

I sauntered downstairs with The Quartet racing behind me and realized I had not brought in the previous day’s mail.  In front of my door was a box, addressed from a dear school friend and neighbor, Stephanie Hofer Bright, whom I’ve known 48 years.

Hmmm….

What a surprise!  Although I’ve never met Stephanie’s daughter, Chloe, a high school freshman at Elwood High School and is a percussionist in the band and marching band.  Chloe recently took a great trip to Washington DC with classmates and I eagerly followed her adventures via her Facebook posts.

In the box: a beautiful mug from The White House Historical Association, one of my favorite organizations (which I do not believe she knows) and a booklet on President Abraham Lincoln’s quotes! The mug is absolutely stunning with blue and gold with all the presidents listed.

This was the best surprise and such an uplifting, extremely thoughtful gift from such a lovely young lady!

And, kudos to her mother, Stephanie, for raising such a thoughtful, sweet daughter!

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, Chloe Bright!  I absolutely love these gifts! And, thank you for making it a great day!

Bus #17 let me off at Springhouse Drive and Far Hills Avenue where I hiked over to The Great Miami River to grab some distant shots of Carillon Park framed by the beautifully autumn quilt rising up behind it.

I had just stepped foot inside the visitors’ center when the clouds finally let go of their full load of water that has carried us through the remainder of the day.

I managed to take some photos throughout the park while balancing the umbrella in one hand and my camera in the other. I finally gave up and grabbed the arriving #18 bus to the Wright Stop hub, downtown, and grabbed #1 for East Third Street to have lunch at Taqueria.

Since the rain was taking full command of the day I decided to head home where I napped, researched, and enjoyed time with The Quartet.

And that was my Halloween.

A gorgeous fall day with wonder temperatures that allowed the door to the deck to remain open so The Quartet could come and go.

Little was accomplished but reading and napping.

At 4:30 PM, my neighbor lady, Kay, took her daughter, Laura, and I to El Toro for Taco Tuesday. It was so much fun and I adore these two women, dearly.

At 7:00 PM I was seated in Trent Arena, the exceptionally nice athletic facility that is perfect for band concerts that accommodates the six concert bands and the marching band. I got to spend time with Angela Bane so we could watch Jacob in the symphony band.

The evening was beautiful and the walk home quite comfortable.

It’s been a good day.