Whoops! A red light

Dear People, (City of Fort Worth, Automated Red Light Enforcement)

It is plain to see that I ran that red light.  The worst part of the whole ordeal is that my granddaughter was in the car.  We had spent the day shopping for material to make doll clothes and she had said, “Oh Grannie, that light was red.”  Of course, it was too late.  I had desperately tried to get over, but being unfamiliar with the new roads, waited too long.  (No one was being too friendly.)

I do want to say this, ” I was sure the intersection was clear, but could not get even one more look up to check the light.”

So, to sum it all up – I am really sorry for breaking the red light rule.  Here is my punishment along with sending you the knowledge that my granddaughter (who was in a very tragic accident when a drunk driver hit her mother) will probably only remember that her Grannie Pam ran a red light and that, my friends, is a far worse punishment than the fine!

Love to All

Being unsure is the worst thing

Well, to the hospital we went after another fall; have finished there and now at a rehab center.  Physical therapist are a tough breed, but they swear they can help him so we are working at it.  The one thing that a rehab center does not want is the spouse hanging around all the time, and he does do better at the therapy when I am not there.  He knows I’m a sucker for his pain.  They don’t even have a chair in the room, but of course that doesn’t prevent our rowdy crew of 10 from descending all at once.  Where the Man goes, we go.

I cried crocodile tears to leave him at night the first time.  I’ve never slept in our bed alone.  I know they are all sick of us/me already, but I don’t care.  It’s our life, and we are sworn to live it in the way we wish.  They are hopeful that he will get strong enough to come home and get around.  They have given me hope, where I had none.

It’s a strange feeling when you feel alone, but you are not.  You don’t want to talk to others because you only want to talk about Him, yet when you talk about Him it is so emotional.  Then, they worry about you which you don’t want.  You have lost your closest confident because He is sick and you don’t want to worry him any more than he is already.  Sometimes, I can’t help but cry like when he told me that I could just crawl up in his bed at the hospital and stay there and when I told him that I didn’t think we would both fit he said there was always room in his bed for me and always had been.

I fear his mind is slipping.

Solidarity for teachers in Chicago

I do not like teacher bashing.  I readily admit that there are bad teachers, but they are few and far between.  What often comes across as a bad teacher is more likely a result of poor facilities, overcrowding, and kids with issues that need additional support systems to succeed.

These are the issues that Chicago teachers are fighting for.  A Science class with over 40 students, over 90% with economic issues and no air conditioning is not likely to help students do their best on standardized testing.  Yeah, yeah, yeah I’ve heard it all before about the no air conditioning thing.  Well, we didn’t have air conditioning when we were going to school.  Neither did I, but I came out of a house without air conditioning into a school without air conditioning.

It is about time that this society made up their minds to support public schools with the social programs needed for today’s kids.  I have seen so many extremely troubled children that need much more specific help than a classroom teacher is prepared (or has time) to offer.  One student told me that his dad died from “sniffing too much sugar.”  He was living with an uncle because his mom and step dad did not have room for him in their apartment.  He was angry, smart enough to get away with lots of things, yet starved for attention.  Starving for attention made him disruptive in class.  His social skills were non-existent, so he made enemies instead of friends.  These kinds of issues require support systems, that yes, cost money.

Now, come on.  Do you really think teachers make 75,000 a year?  That is an average and a few teachers skew that average.  A teacher with 10 years tenure does not make that much, and my daughter-in-law makes that in the computer industry after 10 years and she doesn’t have to put up with 40+ kids in a room with her to earn her living.

By the way, who has been at the bargaining table with teachers.  If I was worried about a strike I sure wouldn’t have waited until the last week to show up to talk about it, but the Mayor did.  He sent lawyers to talk to teachers.  Does that appear to be trying to work something out.  It appears to be more of an insult to me.

Damn, I’m tired of preaching that same ole thing.

And if nothing else the endorsement of Paul Ryan, alias Eddie Haskel and Munster, would put me on the teachers side any day.

Be careful Chicago firefighters, and policemen – you are next.  Rahm Emanual – what kind of Democrat are you?

The first election of the first born son

 

It was quite an event at our house to go and vote.  With the first-born entering the world in 1973 his first presidential election was the 1976 election between Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford.  There are a lot of tidbits about that race that make interesting reading, such as Ronald Reagan was defeated by Ford for the Republican nomination.  My grandmother at that time was 66 years old and not registered to vote.  I was insistent that she register and brought the paperwork for her to get registered.  She was my caregiver for the first-born during this time as I was still going to college, so we saw each other daily.  We had a great many discussions about who she should vote for, and I spent months trying to convince her to vote Democratic; however, she kept her cards close to the vest so I was never sure which candidate she favored.

On election day, we went early to vote before school and work and before taking the first-born to grandmother’s for the day.  When we went in to vote after standing in line for close to an hour the three-year old precocious first-born was ready for his big debut.  I did not realize how serious he was, but he announced to everyone there he was ready to vote for Jimmy Carter.  I must admit the lady at the polling place was a gem and allowed him to scribble something on a scrap piece of paper and pretended to put it in the ballot box.  Of course, I was so proud of his first election.  Little did I know what a politician he was becoming at such an early age.

Later in the day, my grandmother went to vote for her first time, and she had the first-born with her.  Now, she had never told me how she was going to vote, but had evidently had this discussion with a three-year old!  As they entered to polling place, the first-born announced to all there,  “I already voted early this morning for Jimmy Carter and now I’m here to vote for Gerald Ford.”

I guess that answered the question of my grandmother’s support.  She voted in every election since then even until they had to come to the car for her to vote.

You gotta love em.