Slight Detour: MIxed Bag Wednesday

By golly, I've been trying to help Santa out, and, happily, I'm almost done suggesting to him what everyone on my list needs for Christmas.

Just a couple more items, and that job will be completed. I'll probably help him wrap the stuff too.

In all seriousness, it's a good feeling to see the finish line with this year's shopping. I don't even want to look at the bottom line.

We're getting some more snow this morning. If it's just the inch or so predicted, I won't mind. It won't need to be moved, and it should provide enough cover for us to avoid ice for a while.

I went to town yesterday and notice the ice has been sticking around parking lots, so with each stop, steps went slowly and carefully.

Fortunately, my snow-shovel knee is feeling less pain every day. Maybe I lucked out with this body-ache go-round.

It's the season, they say for our anatomy to take a hit.

So, take it from me: be careful and don't over use those body parts!

I included the gorgeous photo below after seeing it on Facebook yesterday.

It seems weird but beautiful to see snow in Ireland. This shot was taken in County Donegal, which is in the north of the Republic of Ireland.

Along with the photo came a little Christmas message:

December days

Have feathers snowing

And all the eaves

Have petticoats showing

And the air is cold

And the wires are humming

But you feel all warm

With Christmas coming

~ author unrecorded at source.

Speaking of Ireland, we were thrilled to learn this week that the movie The Banshees of Inisherin has been nominated for eight Golden Globe awards.

Again, it's dark and grotesque and funny all at the same time. The acting is superb. Plus, the scenery from the islands of Inis Mor and Achill is wonderful.

I understand that the movie will be available on HBO next week, so check it out.

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And, what about this guy below, giving off the giant smile at the last "Ha Ha, we don't have to go to work retired SHS faculty gathering."

Today is his birthday.

His name is Rick Gehring, and he's a good friend and former colleague.

His wife Ann is one of my besties from a long time back. We laugh a lot whenever we visit, even when it's bad stuff we're talking about.

I dug deep into my writing files and found a letter I'd written to Rick 20 years ago.

After reviewing what it said, I thought it would be a nice addition to today's blog.

Rick Gehring was a math teacher extraordinaire at Sandpoint High School. He even won the Presidential Math-Science teaching award.

Possibly a bigger achievement, however, is the inspiration he has provided to so many of us over the past several years after suffering a major stroke.

The stroke affected his speaking ability, which I've told him in jest was probably nice because then he can't argue with me.

On one of my recent birthdays, I saw a message on my telephone answering machine. It was Rick, singing me the birthday song.

It was beautiful.

So, Rick, rather than singing to you, I'll post the letter below for all to enjoy and as a reminder of what our long friendship has meant.

Happy Birthday, friend!

Dear Rick,

Ya know, I thought that when I retired, all this writing stuff would end. Guess the only way to avoid it is to crawl in a hole.

So, just a few days before our dual retirement, I’m sitting here at the computer, in the usual pose, pounding out some supposedly meaningful comments. I just hope they make sense because at this point, my brain is pretty frazzled after another week of coercing and nearly murdering a few seniors who just don’t get it when it comes to taking the next breath.

Gosh, it’ll be good to never have to do that again. I’m sure you agree. Between the two of us, we’ve humored and nurtured almost 10,000 little darlings along their way, including our own kiddies. And I must say, I think we’ve both done a pretty fair job.

It would be neat to compile a book of where in this world all those students have gone with the math and English skills they learned under our tutelage.

I was talking to our friend Spencer the other day, and he was telling me about his Uncle John, who may have graduated before you showed up at SHS in 1974. Well, anyway, John just sold his $20 million lear jet so he and his family now have to travel first class to their two homes in Florida, one in New York and West Coast pad in Los Angeles.

Maybe we need to get together with John when we’re all finished up at this joint and see if he needs any hired help to clean the toilets at all those houses. Just imagine---Jet Set Cleaning Services. You poop. We scoop.

We’ve certainly shared many a fine student over the years, and we’ve shared a lot more. For example we’ve had some pretty good fights. I’ll never forget when Dwight Smith begged me to come into his office where he’d mediate so that you and I could work out our differences.

That was when you were needling my Cedar Post kids for missing class, and I wasn’t taking too kindly to it. That Cedar Post run was okay, but it wasn’t the most fun part of my career. I think everyone on staff hated me then for always stealing their kids from class, and I hated myself because I was too busy to smile. Not a good thing.

We’ve also traveled a mile or two together for fun and knowledge. The trip to Annapolis was a junket every teacher needs to experience. I hold permanent images of the boat trip on the Chesapeake, the formal dinner at the Academy where we hobnobbed with the Navy brass, and the fancy lear jet that brought us home.

And how can we forget the days spent in the Big Easy when the Walton’s, the Gehring’s and the Love’s soaked up that unbeatable New Orleans culture and cuisine?

If there’s a funny story to remember, it has to be the free parking attempt at the Hilton, where the attendant announced, “Why, sir, even Pete Fountain pays to park.”

Our years spent teaching together have been sprinkled with many great moments associated with the holiday food drives. We had a good time with the yearly banter which often included feigning failure, but you always won out in the end.

Are ya ever going to give your secret away? Think of all the great examples you set for young people by teaching them how to count and to be counted upon to help their fellow humans.

There’s much more----the family fun time on the water, the laughs we enjoyed at either your house or ours, the social events connected with our kids, the comparing of Catholic notes, our Presidential friend Nancy, the faculty room speculation, the dirty dozen meetings. I could go on and on, but we’re not retired yet, and I’ve got much to do before we celebrate at your surprise party.

So, I’m gonna cut this short and say that we can look forward to plenty of great times ahead as we calculate how to sell books and make every moment of retirement count.

You ol’ mathematician, you-----your years at Sandpoint High School add up to a job well done as teacher, human being and friend. Thanks for the memories, and thanks for always being there as a symbol of high standards and thinking big.

You’ve definitely succeeded and made all the difference for so many others in this world.

Marianne