the screw

that's a mighty big screw

for such a small bone

bones are so, i dunno, prehistoric?

museum worthy?

thankfully, the screw stays.

things i wonder about...

do they get the screws from home depot?

four to a packet?

is it a flat head? phillip's?

did he use a drill?

*faints a little*

a screwdriver?

did the surgeon hold it in his teeth?

wear an apron?

consider a toggle bolt?

i'm better now that i am out from under the haze of narcotics...

i think.

it takes two hands to blog

i actually fell down like a cartoon character and broke my left wrist....

 

so

 

later

 

i hope to be back in August

 

*crosses fingers*

 

*ouch, ouch*

Box 479

 

Several weeks ago, I posted about cleaning out "the desk," and coming across all kinds of items which sent me on a sentimental trip down memory lane. The top drawer, packed to the brim with all kinds of paper, contained the letters I wrote to my parents when I went to LaGrange College in the fall of 1972, as well as letters I had kept from college from my parents, aunts, brothers, and sister.

The following is an excerpt from the first letter [I can't give it all away} I wrote home, unedited and typed on my roommate's typewriter; I guess I have always found myself  amusing. :-)

Gloria was my college roommate as well as a high school friend.


September 4, 1972

Gloria and I have put posters up so now the room really looks neat. People walking down the hall have told us that it really looks good. [see photos at bottom]

The girls across the hall are pretty nice -- but have changed roomates already.

The orientation meetings are really bad they are so boring and the gym is so hot that it is depressing. I sure do find my mind wandering during those things - but so far I have not missed anything. It really stinks.

Gloria’s mother came down today and brought Gloria’s things and the fan. Thanks so much for giving it to us - last nite it was so hot we couldn’t’ go to sleep.

Tonite we are going to a big party at the President’s house - and don’t’ faint mother I’m going to wear my long dress. Now don’t you feel better? [photos at bottom of blog]

Tomorrow I am meeting with my adviser and he’s {Grady Bradley - Proff of Science] going to help me decide what to take. He’s really nice. Classes start Thursday afternoon and I’m not looking forward to that.

The food here is okay but it’s not much to talk about. The coffee is awful. I about got sick.

Oh there is a few good looking boys and believe me I have been checking out the merchandise. The upperclassman are coming in Wednesday and that means there is more merchandise coming in. I’m got to get me some field glasses so I can see in the boy’s dorm. {Just kidding}

Oh, there are showers downstairs and I feel relieve that I not confined to these ancient tubs. I hear that the boys dorm have got great showers - I’ll have to take a shower over there. {again just kidding}.

Everybody down here is rich as heck except one girl across the hall. All she wears is blue jeans so I don’t feel so bad.

Well I guess that I’m not going get homesick but last  night I thought I was going to because me and Gloria were looking through the photo albums.

I don’t have much else to say - but I will write as often as something happens.

Oh, thanks for the extension cord it helps a lot.

Mother, did the lady from Rich’s call about the jacket? Please find out.

Well, I’m gonna close now but remember me down here in the big metropolis of LaGrange okay.

Will write later.

Love Harriett

PS I just wanted ya to know what good parents I have for letting me go away to school. Thanks.

What cracks me up most about this letter is the minutiae that I shared with my parents as well as the observations I made about college so far -- I do wonder what my parents thought, even though they knew me well, about some of my comments. *snickers*

and -- as someone who was two semesters short of declaring herself an English major --  the lack of punctuation and the bad spelling....uh, well...never mind.

Just so you know -- long distance was expensive in 1972, and I rarely talked to my parents on the telephone while I was in college. We communicated by letter -- and apparently, that sufficed.  Gah. I don't know what to think now about how different my college experience would have been with the cell phone, much less the texting or the internet.

Dorm room photos

Above me to the left -- poster of Three Dog Night -- James Taylor above my head -- and the framed photo behind my head is Pete Maravich. Ha. Ha.

Gloria -- so much more zen---- with her nature posters....

------

My daddy wrote typed, weekly letters to the family -- first, just my mother's sisters, then to my brother when he went away to school, and the eventually to all of us who were gone from home. He used carbon paper to make the copies.

In a letter dated September 3, 1972, which is the day they took me to Lagrange, this is daddy's minimalist reaction to taking me away to school:

Well, it's beginning to look like the salutation will be longer than the letter. We have just finished supper having gotten back from Lagrange about 6. We went to Sunday school and church and then drove down after lunch. It only takes about an hour to get there. Harriett Sue forgot her fan so Mrs. F. {Gloria's mother} came by a few minutes ago to pick it up since Gloria had forgotten some things so she was going to take it all down tomorrow. They have a big room in an old building -- a corner room on the 2nd floor - north east. Only two windows on the north however.

In a typed letter dated 9/10/72 from my mother [who was not as good of a typist as my dad] about the questions in my letter, she added this to the end in her chicken scratch of a handwriting -- "I cleaned your room today and felt lonesome as I got the scotch tape from the mirror."  Love, Mother.

I love that little ditty from my mother  -- it was just enough not to be sappy but to let me know how she felt about her empty nest.

*sigh*

Love mother, indeed.

More in this series to come.
I know you can't wait.

Box 479 was my LaGrange College address. :-)

Gloria in her finery -- to the President's house for "bad coffee"

and I in my "long dress" [nice 70s couture] and beautiful, patent leather white sandals --

The Book Thief

Nine year old Liesel Meminger watches her younger brother die on a train as she and he are headed to their new foster home in Munich.  “How it Happened” relates Death, the narrator of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, “ [is] there was an intense spurt of coughing. Almost an inspired spurt. And soon after  - nothing.”

Liesel’s younger brother is just one of the many “souls” that Death will carry away, and Death’s fascination with Liesel comes because no one “except the girl” saw him as he “stepped through the cluttered aisle” and took her brother.

So begins Zusak’s novel set in Nazi Germany and the story of  illiterate Leisel who becomes, after the death of her brother, a thief -- of books.

Not only is Leisel a likeable and root-able character in spite of her thievery, but Death too is amazingly human.  His running commentary, like a sportscaster watching an event, comes across as both poignant and, at times, witty. 

I know. I know -- really? Yes.  Death wants the reader’s approval, and he kind of gets it.

Quite different stylistically, the work has a poetical edge, and if examined closely, could be seen as quite metaphorical -- or so it seems. I could be reading too much into it -- but stealing apples, recurrent dreams, the titles of the novels stolen by Leisel -- yeah, yeah, yeah -- once an English teacher, always an English teacher.

Books That Should Have/Could Have/Might Have [If they'd read them] Shaped My Students

Occasionally the government does something of which I approve --as they are good for .... some things.

*thinking, thinking, thinking of examples*

I've always liked it that  Henry David Thoreau, as intellectually crazy as he was,  wrote in Resistance to Civil Government that "government's best that governs least."

*still trying to think of an example*

But.

I love that the Library of Congress has this exhibition:

Books That Shaped America

Look at the list, readers, it's quite interesting -- not necessarily all literary, but all noteworthy.

To my former students: Look what made the list.

Told ya.

*sticks out tongue*

I'll get back to you on that example of "good thing[s]."