A couple of weekends ago I saw this poignant Sidney Poitier film about an engineer who could not get a job in his field so ended up a school teacher in a bereft docklands school north of London.
These days anyone would give the world to be in a loft or flat in that neighborhood. But I digress.
I hate to tell you the end of the film but you’ve had over 44 years to see it so I don’t feel bad. He tears up his engineering job offer and sticks with the poor kids. He has taught them skills, including manners, cooking and most important, respect for themselves, each other and society at large, in an unorthodox manner for the day.
There are “sirs” I love, from my father and brother to husband and his father and brother. In between there have been teachers/professors who made a difference. Often they taught between the lines, which spoke to me (my little brother drove me crazy but taught me even though I was brought up in a strict Teutonic home ‘tho he and my little sister had it much easier – I could blur some lines and maybe be able to break a few boundaries in life, which I have done). Brothers are enervating but inspirational at times, just not when they’re playing drums on our suitcases in the back of the station wagon en route to our summer vacation, a long drive.
I didn’t back seat belt laws for adults, just for kids. Imagine how annoying he would have been between me and my sister, belted in, in the back seat. Mom, he’s poking my arm! She didn’t see it and loved him more than us so told us to forget it. Now he’s more than family, he’s also a best friend.
The ladies I respect and love will be included in a later post. I awakened early this morning. Dog was still on the bed, husband a couple thousand miles away at work. Zoe usually gets off the bed around 4:00 a.m. to go underneath the bed below my pillow, for beauty sleep. That’s why she, at about 90 in “people years” looks better than I do in the morning.
I had written an entire blog in my head during this morning in a few seconds of REM sleep. It was recalled for a fraction of a second then lost forever. I ran to the office to write it down and it was gone. Poof!
A difference was made this weekend. I spent 20 years working with disowned shelter dogs and cats, and spaying/neutering feral cats. We have a 12 year-old “pup” who is very sweet to everyone. She’s an Australian Shepherd mix, a herder, but our neighbor’s five year-old grand-daughter was frightened of all dogs because she had been bitten by one.
We (Zoe and I) wrote her a letter speaking of fear and how I got rid of some of my fears. The next day the little girl begged to call on our dog Zoe with Grandma and played with Zoe in our home and was still a bit fearful of placing out her hand flat with a treat on it, as one would give an apple or carrot to a horse. She probably gave Zoe 100 treats but after Zoe did the trick she threw the treat on the floor for Zoe to retrieve. Permit me to say that Zoe slept soundly that evening. “I’m tired, Mom, put me up on the bed.” Yes, in our home I am Otis the elevator for our Hip-less Wonderdog.
Today I sent F’s grandpa an email telling him of my petting an ornery mountain lion. Once. Do not try this at home. I was properly supervised. His grand-daughter wants a dog but should not have one until she faces all her fears. Miss F made great progress in 24 hours. We were thanked and look forward to seeing these kids again.
It’s funny that we’re living amongst very interesting people and two of our neighbors are grandparents who have grand-kids who love our dog and call on her to play or walk or chase a ball. I don’t know what I’d do without Zoe.
Our place is clean within an inch of its life, until Zoe sheds all over, yes today, and my arthritis is making me strive to walk twelve blocks a day. We’ve a new maid and she knows the name of our Zoe’s imaginary evil twin who we’ve never met or fed, taken out or to the vet. Her name is Chloe, who leaves fur under the bed.
Yesterday Ms. B was lying next to our bed with a vacuum cleaner and saying some not nice things about evil imaginary twin dog Chloe. I made up for it. Last week, on my husband’s flight home, a baby was crying and driving all the passengers nuts. My husband reached into his shirt and grabbed a balloon and made a balloon animal in front of the screaming kiddo and tendered it. The baby was quiet. The navigator came back and gave my husband a set of “wings” that he gave to me and I gave to Ms. B for her five year-old son. Apparently he likes pins on his school backpack. As JFK said for an astronaut, John Glenn (later Senator) this medal came from the ground up. As did he, and circled the earth then went back up years later on the Shuttle.
One thing perplexed me, that the original astronauts forced an explosive hatch, a window and called it a spacecraft but decades later they called it a shuttle. As in an elderly Dee saying now it’s time to go to dinner, dear, it’s 4:oo p.m. and there will already be a line at the buffet. Let’s take the shuttle. It’s like getting the bus. Now the entire program has been de-commissioned, unless NSA has taken it over and is using it to spy on us.
What goes around, comes around. I’ve never seen the people who’ve deeply hurt me go through this, on their end however know what awaits evil people. I love seeing happiness and joy and giving to life, love and people. I believe in people, until they give me a reason not to do so.
It’s been a rough week. I made this post up as my brother just said, seat of the pants. I’m Red Adair. I fight fires, situations that come up that I must deal with before anything else. I was always afraid to write because I kept everything inside. Now I can write 500 words in ten minutes. Wouldn’t the gals on my dorm wing lined up at my door to borrow my 1957 Smith-Corona electric portable typewriter love that! I still have it and take it wherever we move. It’s the heaviest “laptop” I’ve ever used.
Wouldn’t the gals love my secret? I may have been able to teach them to write their own paper in ten minutes. Do the research, think it though then write……..Dee