the resistance of the fluid to being moved. Blood is nearly four times more viscid than water. [ http://www.simondodds.
Though it is physically true, the axiom “blood is thicker than water” usually does not refer to viscosity or density. Instead it generally means that family ties (blood) are usually stronger (thicker) than bonds made with friends (water). When push comes to shove and choices must be made, time, energy and allegiance are allocated to family first. The axiom is also sociologically accurate.
So, how does the axiom apply when friends seem like family, when the blood bond is non-existent but the heart hook is secure? I don’t know…..and, actually, I don’t care. It really does not matter how the phrase applies; what really matters is how the bond feels and this weekend, at my 30th high school class reunion, the bond felt GREAT!
The people who graduated from Sugar-Salem High School in 1983 are great, GREAT people. Seriously. I had not seen most of them for at least 10 years, I have no family left in the area, and I only lived there three years yet joining them under the pavilion in the park in Sugar City Saturday afternoon was like walking into the back yard of the family home; they were warm and I was welcome. I was welcomed, not because I am an overly talented or charismatic person (clearly not!) but because I was part of them; I belonged. All of us were enveloped; invitations and updates were given on everyone, even people who moved from the area before beginning high school. Though they have very little in common besides the fact that they attended school together and are all Homo sapiens, these people know about and care about each other.
For me, who had a rather nomadic school experience (it was not until BYU that I attended the same school for over three years in a row), it was incredible to feel that I had roots somewhere. I drove away from Sugar City feeling like if something were to happen to me, these wonderful people would have my back; that, blood or no blood, “We Are Family” (Sister Sledge, 1979—when we were freshman).
More about blood……
“Mrs. Hislop?” queried the voice on my cell phone.
“Yes?” I responded.
“What color is blood?” came the question.
“Red,” I said.
“Isn’t it blue….” suggested the student.
“No. Red.” I said. I could hear adolescent voices in the background….some laughing “I told you so’s” and some groaning “No way’s”.]
“Okay thanks,” the still unidentified student said as the conversation ended.
I am not sure when I became Mrs. Hislop The On Call Science Reference Option and Final Authority on Disagreement About Science Topics however being Mrs. Hislop the teacher is fine with me. Being Mrs. Hislop the employee is a bit disconcerting.
The teachers at Ogden Preparatory Academy went back to school this week. We have a new principal, Amie Campbell. During meetings the first day she called several teachers by first name……Sam, Karole, Bev, Josh…..but she addressed me as Mrs. Hislop…twice. I did not think a lot about it, assuming that she had probably forgotten my first name until Josh also
called me Mrs. Hislop. “Mrs. Hislop?” I said to my teaching colleague, “Why Mrs. Hislop? Amie called me Mrs. Hislop too but I wonder if it is just because she forgot my first name.”
“Oh, I know your first name,” defended Josh, “It is a respect thing.”
Did I mention that both Amie (my boss) and Josh (my colleague) are at least a decade younger than I am? He
said “respect” but he could have said, “elder”. I appreciate the respect thing but am not sure I appreciate my placement in the senior class..
Maybe I do need to be in the senior class The close of county fair seemed to have closed the animal responsibility section of my psyche. I forgot to feed (or nag the kids to feed) the animals for several days after the fair ended. I also forgot to feed the neighbor’s cows as I had promised. Senior moments are coming more frequently. It probably has something to do with that 30 year class reunion.
Yes, the fair is over. And it was FAIR-ly fabulous. Miles’ hog did not make weight (it weighed 195 lbs. and pigs must weigh at least 220 lbs. to be sold at the auction) but it won a blue ribbon in the feeder class. Not being able to sell at the auction cost him about $400; winning a blue ribbon earned him $3 in premium money…..and bragging rights. He proudly carried his blue ribbon EVERYWHERE.
Grace’s pig earned a red ribbon…no bragging rights….but her hog did make weight (250 lbs.) so she earned about $400 on the hog and $2 in premium money. She did not carry her red ribbon around with her anywhere but she'll carry a sizable amount of money to the bank.
A large part of showing animals at the fair is showmanship, that is the ability of the handler to show the animal to its best advantage. And, as with anything, the way one dresses makes a difference. This year, instead of using garage sale garments, the kids dressed the part: fancy jeans, belt buckles, cowboy boots, and belts. Ah
yes….belts….. I bought Grace a big, beautiful, bling-y red belt, full price retail. It was a once-in-a-decade spending event…and it was worth it. She looked beautiful and, more importantly, she felt beautiful.
Peter, our 1991 Toyota pickup with 266,000+ miles, is not beautiful. In fact, he is not even functional. His antifreeze is leaking into his oil and the mechanic gave him less than 100 miles to live. Sad, sad day. I have had Peter longer than I have had Lance.
What to do about a dead truck? Our savings will not support even a new-to-us truck and there is no room in our
budget for a car payment. We cannot survive as a one car family as both Lance and I work…and our jobs are in opposite directions…. Egad.
Now we are truck-less but not luck-less. My darling sister and her agreeable husband offered to sell us one of their vehicles at a price we could not refuse. Actually, our good fortune has very little to do with luck and a whole lot to do with
love. Blood is thicker than water….and I am so grateful that Marjorie values us more than money.
For more about the color of blood, go to http://www.biology-online.org/biology-forum/about3136.html and scroll to the bottom of the page.