Good Weather and Fun TBT's

For the first time in about three years, I don't have Christmas lights hanging from the deck. 

Took two strings of them down yesterday and planned to throw them away. 

The deck display went dark about a week before Christmas, and that was after Bill had replaced a faulty extension cord. 

So, I figured both of those strings of lights had run their course. 

On a whim, I plugged in the newer set without an extension cord.  

Nothing.

After mentioning this to Bill, he asked if I'd tried another outlet. 

No, I hadn't, and I had not thought about the fact that the outlet on the deck may have tripped its switch. 

Sure enough, it had. 

Happily only one string of lights went to the garbage, and I don't have to start from scratch next year. 

Bill and I enjoyed working outside for a good part of the afternoon yesterday. 

Twas cool but not too cool and dry.  

Plus, with the ice slabs sticking around, we've grown accustomed to leaving Yak Tracks on a set of boots for any time we want to slip in them and head outside. 

It's not often we outside projects besides shoveling, plowing or blowing in January.  And, when we're not doing that, some of us are inside whining when the the January gloomy drizzle hangs around. 

So, yesterday outdoor opportunity was noteworthy, especially when I go back through my photo library and find pictures taken in the winter of 2008. 

Yup, those snow shots below were taken at various times in January ten years ago. 

GOT SNOW!  For sure.  And, we "got" a lot more in the months afterward. 

January, though, meant the end of our vinyl quanset storage shed.  I was actually cleaning barns when I looked out and saw the roof in its final cave.   

We had watched the metal framing start to buckle prior to that day, but the weight of continuing snow finally did it in.  

I also remember that winter, looking out the garden window to see a dog and a cat perched side by side at an angle slightly above my hairline. 

The inside of our house was somewhat dark during daylight that year because snow berms blocked off the window and sliding-glass door light. 

At times it was pretty, but even the enjoyment of beauty wore off as that winter wore on.

But wait!  It HAS been worse. . . . 

Over the past few days, the history column of the local newspaper has reminded me of a much worse winter. 

Yep, 50 years ago, we had a doozy.  I think everyone who was living in Sandpoint at the time and some who weren't but got stuck with their girlfriends up at Schweitzer has a tale to tell. 

Hard to adequately describe that winter except for the BITTER COLD (minus 40 at one time), the CABIN FEVER from not leaving the farm for seven straight days cuz we couldn't get anywhere, the scene of a few folks finding a way over huge drifts in North Boyer with their cross country skis, the "rotator plow" eventually coming by the farm, cutting out packed snow from the roads . . . yeah, that was a 

                                         DOOZY. 

Twas during those days that the nervousness I felt about having my first teaching experience at Sandpoint High School gradually transformed into the utter excitement.

That excitement wasn't so much the "I get to go teach the children" as it was "Thank God, I get to get out of the house." 

I saw in this morning's history column that superintendent Jack Jones had called off school for another two days.  

I actually don't remember how long it was before the schools reopened after Christmas vacation, but I do remember how good it felt to walk into that school and into a career that would define me for the rest of my life. 

My student teaching mentor was Ragnar Benson.  Many of my students that year (just four years younger than I) would become friends for life. 

Some of those students have told the same story probably on an annual basis for fifty years now, and I have a feeling it will get told again any time Mike or Don Gunter and Marianne Brown are at the same gathering. 

The story they don't repeat but I do has to do with that first period English class-----first kids I ever "tried" to teach," same class where I became acquainted with John Scott's crooked peace sign. 

Under Mr. Benson's guidance, I was to teach Shakespeare's MacBeth.  When I had prepared my first lecture, Mr. Benson left the room and headed off to the faculty room so I could go it alone. 

Well, I went it alone for about ten minutes, babbling on something about Shakespeare, only stuff I'd written down from research.  

My lecture material ran out in ten minute but not before my voice had risen at least 50 octaves.  

With about 45 minutes left in the class hour, I panicked, announcing to the class that I had to go check with Mr. Benson.  

"What am I going to do?  I don't have anything else to teach," I frantically announced to Mr. Benson. 

I don't remember the solution but somehow I kept the students in the classroom for the rest of the hour. 

That experience taught me a lesson.  More preparation and some options are necessary with every single class hour. 

I also learned another lesson from my fourth period students:  use precise wording; do not generalize. 

One day I needed to leave the classroom to see Mr. Benson (who thankfully pretty much left me alone to learn classroom survival). 

"I don't want to see any people talking," I said, as I walked out the door. 

When I came back, I did not see anyone talking.  I just saw the backs of their heads while they talked. 

The class had turned their chairs around, so they could respect my wishes and talk at the same time. 

If you want to verify my account, just ask the Gunter cousins.  They have the story memorized. 

Anywho, it's hard to believe that horrible winter was 50 years ago, time enough for those first students of mine to go their separate directions, in some cases to the room up above and in others, to the good life of retirement. 

Time flies, they say, and good winter will remain a common topic among the old timers who each have a unique perspective. 

Finally, in this morning's paper, I saw a front-page article dealing with a topic that always draws our attention.  

After all, we lived right next to the original Quest Aircraft and listened to the vision those three original owners had regarding their dream of manufacturing an aircraft which could aid in missionary activities and also serve as a flying SUV. 

https://www.bonnercountydailybee.com/national_news/20190103/state_takes_delivery_of_quests_kodiak_100


Well, since those days of land swaps, updates and even seeing all aspects of the prototype at the plant out behind our barn, Quest has come a "long way, baby."  

Click on the link and you'll see why.  Bill and I always feel pretty neat about having the opportunity to experience so much of those early days of Quest and then watch the company "take off" to some impressive heights. 

Good going, Quest!

Happy Thursday. 

Gradebooks:  do they exist any more?

The student list in my first-ever teaching experience. If anyone wants to know their senior English grade for third quarter 1969, I have it available.   

I did not see them talking that day.