"Live in the sunshine.
Swim the sea.
Drink the wild air."
R.W. Emerson
I am sure I have said it before in the short history of this little blog, but I once heard an older teacher once say that there were three reasons to get into teaching and they were June, July, and August. It was a joke in more ways than one; and a cruel one at that. The first being that a teacher usually has to have a job during this "vacation time" and attend some sort of continuing education item along the way. And the second being that the three month summer has gone the way of cassette tapes and vhs machines even though America's greatest minds of the 20th and 21st centuries had a three month summer, all the wisdom bottled up in the NEA decided that the educational system of Bill Gates, TS Eliot, Dorothy Sayers, Steve Jobs, the scientists of NASA who won the Space Race, Stephen Hawking, Mark Zukerburg, etc got it all wrong and kids just need more time in school and less time off because a few studies said they were just forgetting too much info and that just wasn't going to cut it when they wanted to teach students how to pass tests and teachers were having to spend so much time reviewing and educating the students. And the results are that the ole' USA continues to fade farther and farther from view within the educational landscape of the world. I could say more, but won't. A shorter summer isn't the only ill of the current educational climate, but it is one of a long list and sadly private schools follow most every wrong turn that public schools make. They feel they must to survive and they are sadly right. Anyway, I have strayed as usual, but you, my faithful reader, are more than used to it I'm sure. I wish the summer was still three full months long and that those were the only meager reasons one would want to "get into" teaching.
But...but...but...we only have two months and Mel and I usually try to cram as much into those eight weeks as we can while the fetters of the school life have been freed from me for a brief moment. It is a time we both look forward to all year and now that FH is here, it is a time I can't hardly wait for. Being away from your boy for 10-14 hours a day is really no good at all. And so, five weeks have passed us like a freight train in the middle of the night and we have had the good and the really bad and everything in between. And for the last two weeks, we have been living somewhere between an Amish paradise (Sorry, Weird Al and Coolio), a camp for Luddites, and a band on the run (Sorry, Sir Paul). I know it is a very weird place, but maybe by the end of the post you will know right about where we are. If not, it'd be okay just to nod your head like you understand like I do when someone is telling me about how the country club isn't what it used to be. Here is a sort of brief summary of our little summer thus far:
Exams were graded, grades were entered, report cards were printed and sent home, book and classroom inventories were turned in, and my door was locked for the last time at around 5:00 pm on May 25th. I love teaching and Covenant is a wonderful place, but by the end of a school year, you are ready to walk away from it all and never come back. If you don't teach, you will think I am a bad person, but if you do teach, you will understand fully. We had an odd night that night. It was meant for celebration, but ended with two sad humans on a couch muscling through some unwanted Wendy's with a warm, sleeping baby upstairs that only those with little children would understand. So, the first full day of summer vacation we headed the trusty maroon Subie south loaded down for a fun and restful time down in the Colony City. However, after only being there a few hours we both (Mel and I) began complaining of sore throat feelings and sore bones and by the middle of the following morning we were both deep in the covers and begging for some sort of relief. I am not sure what we had, but for the next three days, we were somewhere between the 1919 Spanish Flu Epidemics, SARS, and the Black Plague. I know those are not things to joke about, but we felt terrible and God graciously allowed us to be at Mel's parents home and they took care of FH beautifully and mercifully. I said it then and I will freely say it now, I am not sure what we would have done had we been at our own home by ourselves. I am not that strong. Mel is, but I am not. We are so blessed to have two sets of parents that love us, want us near them, love our child like he is their's, care for us, and still give to us with overwhelming generosity. We don't deserve it and never will. We are merely blessed. After four or so days of fevers, chills, achy bones, sleepless nights, we were on the mend and slowly loaded the car to head back home to prepare for our second week of summer: Beach Week!
My family has been going to the same beach, Ormond Beach, since I was in middle school. We have had a time share at the same condo, the Maverick, since my dad got it off a patient who had to get rid of it. We used to spend our week late in August back when summer lasted three months and then once we got older and I headed off to college and then Amy followed suit a few years later, my parents moved our week closer to the beginning of August, but then two of the four of us became teachers and our start dates for the first day of school kept inching closer and closer to the end of July, my mom soon became the lone member of Beach Week. She changed it up and moved our week to the beginning of June over the last several years and this has been great for everyone and my older brother has even been able to come. And last summer we made the big jump to a new locale, Plantation Island, but have no fear, we are still in Ormond. The Hines Terrace crew attended Beach Week last year, but it was very close to an experience that Dante merely touched on. I am sure there have been those that have pulled off a great week of vacation with a one month old, but we were not those people. We turned the 6 hour car trip into about a 9 hour trip and good ole' FH hated the beach and all that surrounded it just about more than Nancy Reagan hated drugs. And just for some additional flare and comfort, there was a tropical depression that sat over our hotel for the majority of our visit, so we sat in our rooms with a newborn who wasn't sleeping and watched ourselves go to the brink of insanity. It wasn't a good time. It was a time we have tried to forget. My family was very kind to let us come then, but we hope we never go to that dark place again (pun intended).
So, as we approached Beach Week 2013, we held our breath and hoped for the best and made a mental note to expect the worst. Little Fordzilla made the car trip made a little rough, but we made it in a little over 6 hours. It was rough because he hates the car, but once at the beach, things turned golden. He loved it all. He loved the sand. He loved his sweet cousins. He loved the surf. He LOVED the pool. He took to beach life like a labrador does to water. And we woke each day hoping that we could copy the previous day and for the most part it was done. As the week wore on, he began to get more and more tired, but overall Beach Week 2013 was an awesome success. And we were so glad and relieved.
Just taking it all in.
It was great to see my family and we had a great time. We ate a lot. We got a bit of a tan. FH and I had some great morning runs on all, but one morning we were there. Mel and I went on a date!!! We played catch with the football and the frisbee till my arm hurt for days after we got back. We hit the ice cream truck that runs on the beach not once, but I think three times. We grilled through two days of tropical depression rain, but this year we got smart and put our beach tent over the grill. I am sure it is some sort of OSHA standard not to be done, but it beats getting wet everyday of the week. We laughed. We got into a few arguments (A Dark Family tradition). We spent enough time in the pool to look like raisins. We bowled. We spent too much at the grocery store and got everything we all three wanted! As you can see, I could go on, but won't. We had a great time. And are so thankful that my kind and generous parents let us come, paid for our room, let us eat their food, wanted us to be there, etc. We wouldn't really be able to hit a week at a beach without them. And it was so great to see my brother's family since they live in the Lone Star state and we have sadly reduced our time of getting to see them about once or twice a year , but we have thankfully gotten to see them three times in one way or another this year. And to top it off, we got to see my sister Amy, her husband, and our new nephew, Jackson Carter Bass. He is only four months old and they braved the week and did an awesome job.
Beach week ended on a very warm Saturday and we packed it up and headed home via St. Augustine and lunch at the Columbia Restaurant. It was sad to leave, but it was time to move onto the Summer Phase III, which involved working for my father in law and living the South Georgia life. When we got home however, we noticed our dogs were in MIA. We didn't panic because this is a usual occurrence with our four pawed friends. They live 99.9% of their lives on our back deck laying in the shade with the occasional dash for a squirrel or to bark at our neighbor's dogs, but once our car heads anywhere and we leave them at home, they pretend they are in a movie where they must escape from Alcatraz or die trying. Our very kind friends, Tiffany and Chris, watched them while we were at the beach and they spent most of the time trying to find the newest weak link in our fence where the dogs were getting out and some neighbors down the street spent a lot of their time herding them up from our street and putting them back in. And as we drove into our neighborhood, there were signs all over the place like the one below. And from what I've heard, they also made some cameo appearances on Facebook. After several hours of looking for them, going door to door on several streets, and playing phone tag, we got our pups. I love those two dogs, but sometimes, I wish I could have them put on a K9 version of Scared Straight or at least a pep talk from this guy:
One of numerous posters put up by a very kind lady who even teared up a bit when I came to get our two bad dogs because she loved them so much. We are blessed that God takes care of us and our stupid dogs.
We got back from the beach late Saturday night and rested on Sunday and one our friends had a baby the following Monday and we found ourselves at the hospital till midnight. She had a baby girl and they named her Ada. It was odd being there for another baby besides Ford. And it was very serene to walk across the bridge from the parking deck and to the hospital carrying the baby boy I first went there with Mel to have. Tuesday morning we were to head south to the Colony City and I was to begin my annual summer stint at Hunter Industrial Bag Repair, but instead I woke up at around 5 am feeling like this guy:
Except, I had extreme back pain in the upper right section of my back. It felt sort of like someone was stabbing me in the upper back. I am not usually one for laying in bed and giving up because of pain, but it seemed my whole body hurt and it was all coming from one place. I put ice to it. I put heat to it. I took ibuprofen. I took Motrin. Mel massaged my back with sport's creme. And then I laid in the bed and did my best to recover for a whole day, but nothing seemed to help. Needless to say, we didn't head south. Instead, Mel took care of two babies; one that was 13 months and the other was 33. And the next morning it wasn't much better, but we headed south hoping that the trip would loosen things up. We, however, arrived in the Fitz. and my back was still carrying a knife in it. And instead of working for Mark, I found myself laying around the Hunter abode and then going to a chiropractor that wasn't my dad and he helped, but I couldn't move much less work. Several days went by, we loaded up and headed back to Macon and just waited for my back to quit hurting and to be honest many, many days have gone by and it still isn't at 100%. We have been hovering at around 90%, but life goes on.
The Sunday after we got back to Macon was Father's Day: June 16th. Mel and FH said they didn't have much of a plan and asked me what I wanted and what I wanted to do. And I knew exactly what to answer. Ever since Mel told me she was pregnant, there were two things that I wanted to do with our little baby. One was to put him or her in the BOB jogging stroller and head out. And the second item was to put a baby seat on a bike and really hit the town with a co-pilot. Well, ever since FH was eight months old, we have been making good use of the BOB. And now that Ford was a little over a year, we had reached the point of being able to do the baby bike seat thing. So, we did a lot of internet research on baby bike seats, read a lot of reviews, and then headed out to our local sporting goods stores and purchased a bike seat and a great little helmet.
We came home and assembled the bike seat and put it on the bike. I will post more about the bike and the seat in a later blog, but it is all too awesome. The bike I am using is a late 1970's Huffy Bay Pointe 3-Speed bike. I rescued it from the rafters of my in-laws storage building. I won't say much more because I am excited about the future blog post, but it is the same bike Mel's parents used to ride her around! And now FH and I are keeping the roads hot and we have already ridden around 50 miles in and around our house and a little beyond and it is everything I hoped it would be. The first several rides FH seemed far past apprehensive, but now he has full command of the back seat and now we talk as we ride!
We did all this on Saturday prior to the actual day, but Sunday we hit two bike rides, church, and a bag full of take home goodness from Margaritas Mexican Restaurant because someone feel asleep, and then a restful afternoon before we headed off to the Colony City for my first week of work. It was a great second Father's Day. I could type much, much more about what I have learned about God, my beautiful and gracious wife, my lovable son, and myself since becoming a father, but I won't for now. Becoming a father is the third best thing that has ever happened to me. And being a father is the hardest and best thing I have ever done. I come from a great father and each day I try to be the best father for this guy:
Each summer for the past several summers, I work for father in law. And each morning when I wake up, I tell Mel that I am going to the mines or she tells me to have a good day at the mines. No, it is not as hard as the picture above, but it is strenuous at times and very dirty work at all times. My father in law has a business repairing components of carbon black train cars. He used to work at a place that repaired and rebuilt all types of train cars, but then he invented a way to repair components that they used to scrap and or throw away. He is a genius. And in a round about way, it is a true green job. I am amazed that he thought of and created all the different processes that we use each day. And each year, he tweaks them a little to make them more efficient and more enduring. And if you don't know what carbon black is, I will tell you. It looks like this:
And they haul it in train cars that look like this (the black one):
And it is used for a whole variety of purposes; everything from toner, to pen ink, to mascara, to paint pigment, to a fortifier for rubber, in brakes, and for making tires. It is very useful and can be found in so many of the products we use on a daily basis. Until Mark started his business, I had never heard of it and didn't know anything about it. Now, after around seven years of working for and with Mark, I know a little about what they do with it, how they mine it and produce it, and how they transport the majority of it. And after a long 10 hour day of working with the bags they carry it in, I know how it can get on you, stay on you, and even after multitudes of showers, hand washings, etc can still be found on you weeks after you have worked with it. And this is the job of Hunter Industrial Bag Repair. Take the components that make the carbon black train car work (transport bags, gates, gate covers, etc.) and when they need cleaning and repairing, do just that: clean them, repair them, rebuild them, test them, and then send them back.
And each summer, he (Mark) allows me to come each summer and work. It is really more than this that he allows. He actually lets us live with them, takes me to work, and they feed us three meals a day, and then he pays me to work. Yes, I am working. And yes, the work is hard and I get dirty and at the end of a 40-50 hour week, I am exhausted, but it is good and satisfying work. And after standing in the classroom and doing most my week's work and feeling mentally drained, but not physically, it is so nice to have a little bit of a reversal for a couple months and a few weekends each year. Every summer, I learn a lot and feel very blessed to have a situation like this. I am pretty sure no other job would allow me the perimeters that this one does. It is a great job and as Jose' (his lone full time employee) says, Mark is the Jefe of the Jefes.
The school I work and teach at is a classical school. It is also a Christian school. I will spare you for the time being about what exactly is a classical Christian school and what it looks like from the inside out, but each year, several members of my school are sent to the annual ACCS conference. Like any other association that hosts a yearly conference, they hold it in different locations each year and it is attended by most or all of the schools in the association. Next year will mark my ninth year as a teacher and my sixth for doing so at a classical Christian school. I had never gotten to attend the yearly conference and in the back of my mind, I had always wanted to and so this year when my administration asked me to attend and then graciously paid my way, I jumped at the chance.
This year's conference was conveniently in Atlanta and with a group of about 13 other teachers from my school, We met at 4:45 am and caravanned up to Hotlanta and spent two and a half days attending the Association of Classical Christian Schools Annual Conference. In my nine years of teaching, I have had the chance to attend several conferences or weekend workshops and I will say that they come in three varieties: the impractical, the idealistic, or the complete waste of time. If you are a teacher, you will understand, if you aren't you will assume I am as dumb as a brick and a bad teacher, which I may be, but if you had attended the events I have, I am sure we could agree to my observations. I was expecting much of the same from this event, but I was gladly and pleasantly proved wrong. Each large session speaker and each seminar I attended was either inspiring, or practical, or both. I learned so much in a short amount of time that a couple weeks have gone by and I am still digesting what I heard, observed, read, and wrote notes about. I bought several books and am reading through them and am excited about the 2013-2014 school year. It was a great conference and a great time spent with my fellow teachers. It was a good shot in the arm and I am so greatly full that my school, Covenant Academy, sent me. I am a better teacher for having gone.
Here I am trying to get FH to wear the signature HIBR hat, but it was a no go!
After attending the ACCS conference, heading back home, reclaiming the house for a short time, doing some laundry, mowing the yard, feeding the chickens, working in the garden, and watering some plants, I headed back down to the Fitz. for another week of work. It was good to be back in the Colony City, but it was much better to see my bride and my boy. Being away from them is at the top of my Top Five Most Hated Items. And when I saw them again, there was much hugging and catching up.
I worked for a week at HIBR and then Mark let us off for a week and now that week is over and tomorrow we start back at it in the shop at 7 am. We have had a great week here at home and haven't really done much other than wait for it to quit raining and then watch it rain some more. We have done a lot of little things and even went to Atlanta for the day and took FH to the Georgia Aquarium. I will do a post about that someday in the future, but just know it was amazing and awesome in the true sense of the words.
Well, there it is. The whole of our summer so far. We have been busy and we have been lazy. We have driven many miles and yet, we have woken up in the same places for the most part. It is has been a good summer so far and I look forward to the second half of it and I hope it slows down a bit, but I know it won't. It never does, but instead just goes faster and faster. And before long, I will be standing up in front of a class, handing out syllabi, and starting another school year. Hope you enjoyed the post. And hope it didn't bore you. I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
Happy and blessed summertime,
DAVID
