Howdy Everyone,
The hike up and down LV Ray Peak this weekend delivered as only Crescent Lake Valley could. Friday and Saturday indeed proved to be spectacular, warm, and made for climbing high. Sunday morning's sideways rain wasn't even too bad, and waking up to a pile of Trout's grass-puke on my Thermarest was a first. Unfortunately, Jonathan did not get a moose.
I'll have to wait until later in the week to post pictures, since I was using a couple of disposable cameras I picked up just for the trip. Luckily, another digital camera has come into my possession, by way of my friend Martha Story. She has recently bought a new camera, and decided to give me hers. Thanks a ton, Martha!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Howdy everyone,
What can I say it is great to be back in the blogging world after a summer's hiatus. As some of you might have noticed, I spat out a blurb of a poem a couple of weeks ago that was meant to serve as a welcome back to myself, to TWOTC from Trout and I. I can only say that my heart was truly behind it, if not my complete awareness, and that what is left behind after the trimming away is still worth something akin to a chuckle. Enjoy if you can.
As you know I have started another part-time school year in Whittier, a place that keeps showing up, like your boss from your first high school job continuing to pop up in your dreams, Whittier continues to change yet stay exactly the same, a constant something at the end of the tunnel over the last few years. The quiet concrete, green brush, and rock of this place is especially honest in the early mornings and late evenings, something true of all places that mean something to us, that aren't just another place.
Yes, Mr. Clay is back on the scene, back in his room, changed it up a bit this year. I'm really going for the "enema" approach to my house and my job lately. Keep the essential, and absolutely boot OUT the rest. Stacks of papers from years past, written about in springtime blogs, are lying together in a box in the back of my truck, waiting their time to be tossed into a large blue recycle bin in Anchorage, where they will continue their reincarnation in the Paper Circle of Life.
Brightly colored posters now face my students and I in contrast to faded ones, made by kids now graduated, now adults, that had been on the walls for years. It's time for some new memories, I tell them, and the tiny flinching in the corners of their eyes tells me that this is immediately unnerving to them. Maybe it's just the natural resistance to change that we all seem to experience. Or maybe the kids really liked those old posters...I had come to think in the last year or two that my leaving them up had served as a barrier to connecting with them, that the slogans, drawings, photos, cut and glued behind my desk and around it of students from years ago were to them work of my "favorite" students, and that I was just teaching these guys because I I had to, but that it would never be as much fun as back in the "good ol' days." More than likely I'm just giving my ego its daily steroid boost by dwelling on all this. Hey, at least now I've got clean walls.
Light another match and strike anew,
Jeff
p.s. Sorry 'bout the lack of pics. Blogger is acting funny right now so I can't post any. Hopefully this will work soon and I'll post more pics of my epic weekend...all I'll say now is it was one mother of a walk!
What can I say it is great to be back in the blogging world after a summer's hiatus. As some of you might have noticed, I spat out a blurb of a poem a couple of weeks ago that was meant to serve as a welcome back to myself, to TWOTC from Trout and I. I can only say that my heart was truly behind it, if not my complete awareness, and that what is left behind after the trimming away is still worth something akin to a chuckle. Enjoy if you can.
As you know I have started another part-time school year in Whittier, a place that keeps showing up, like your boss from your first high school job continuing to pop up in your dreams, Whittier continues to change yet stay exactly the same, a constant something at the end of the tunnel over the last few years. The quiet concrete, green brush, and rock of this place is especially honest in the early mornings and late evenings, something true of all places that mean something to us, that aren't just another place.
Yes, Mr. Clay is back on the scene, back in his room, changed it up a bit this year. I'm really going for the "enema" approach to my house and my job lately. Keep the essential, and absolutely boot OUT the rest. Stacks of papers from years past, written about in springtime blogs, are lying together in a box in the back of my truck, waiting their time to be tossed into a large blue recycle bin in Anchorage, where they will continue their reincarnation in the Paper Circle of Life.
Brightly colored posters now face my students and I in contrast to faded ones, made by kids now graduated, now adults, that had been on the walls for years. It's time for some new memories, I tell them, and the tiny flinching in the corners of their eyes tells me that this is immediately unnerving to them. Maybe it's just the natural resistance to change that we all seem to experience. Or maybe the kids really liked those old posters...I had come to think in the last year or two that my leaving them up had served as a barrier to connecting with them, that the slogans, drawings, photos, cut and glued behind my desk and around it of students from years ago were to them work of my "favorite" students, and that I was just teaching these guys because I I had to, but that it would never be as much fun as back in the "good ol' days." More than likely I'm just giving my ego its daily steroid boost by dwelling on all this. Hey, at least now I've got clean walls.
Light another match and strike anew,
Jeff
p.s. Sorry 'bout the lack of pics. Blogger is acting funny right now so I can't post any. Hopefully this will work soon and I'll post more pics of my epic weekend...all I'll say now is it was one mother of a walk!
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