Pouring pouring pouring down rain. My newly-planted flowers must be in root heaven.
Not flower heaven, like all my other poor dead flowers. Root heaven. Totally different. In root heaven, the blossoms still have a chance. In flower heaven, all is already lost.
Class went well tonight. I have a big pile of papers to grade, and that is a wondrous thing indeed. It means 1) most of the students showed up tonight, thunderstorm notwithstanding, and 2) I have a big pile of papers to grade. I really do love my students. They are lovely people.
The cat was screaming at the front door when I got home a few minutes ago. I let him in, and he went screaming up the stairs, across the kitchen floor, and straight out the patio doors. I thought he was miserable, being wet and cold, and wanted to stay inside for a while. But I guess he was just having an ‘episode.’ I’ve had many of those myself, lately, so I’m all sympathies with him. I’ve often wanted to run screaming through certain places, and so have you. Admit it.
Maybe it’s the new ‘streaking.’ Instead of stripping naked and running through a building, people should now consider ‘screaming.’ Same thing, minus the stripping, and plus vocals.
Everybody knows the words and the tune to a good running scream.
There were so many colored leaves on the front porch tonight, that it looked like cobblestones in the darkish glare. Slick, too. And the pile of little pumpkins I placed beside the front door, a la Martha Stewart, looked like cannonballs.
Yes, I am a skilled and talented decorator, just like Martha Stewart. Oh, okay, maybe I just shop a lot at K-Mart. Isn’t it the same thing?
I spy my daughter, reading my journal. . . . . Hi, honey.
Across the hall from my classroom tonight, there was live Mexican music. Some kind of presentation, good and loud and GREAT. It was great! Well, I thought it was great, and most of the class thought it was great. It’s too bad we had one party-pooper who couldn’t concentrate with music. Because of her, we had to shut the door. Actually, SHE got up and shut the door, all on her own. Sigh. Oh well. Fortunately, the music was loud enough that we could still hear it through the walls.
When did it happen, that the minority gets their own way all the time, and the majority just has to sit there and take it? I mean, it was 15 to 1 in favor of the music. And we ended up with the door closed because of the one.
Oh well. It’s over now.
As are many other things in my life.