This past week was my spring break—no school for five days—and my to-do list was a full page long. I planned to make a quilt, assemble scrapbooks, craft lesson plans, catch
up on my climate class homework, score papers and record grades for my 8th graders’ homework, scrub kitchen cabinets, iron, mend, search the attic for shorts for Miles, work on Personal Progress with Grace, and make cheese, to mention a few.
I made cheese. Or rather, we made cheese, Grace and I. The recipe called for powdered milk, which was good. The cheese tasted like powdered milk, which was not so good. If any of you have a relatively simple cheese recipe that calls for rennet tablets (we cannot find liquid rennet anywhere locally), please share.
For the most part, the rest of the list did not get done. My work is not yet done and, it appears, neither shall it be for a long time. In fact my work probably will not be done until the end of man, which is not likely to occur anytime soon. So…………..enjoy the ride, right?
I certainly enjoyed Friday’s hike up Adam’s Canyon with Ron Jewett, an almost-long-lost-and-recently-found friend. This time of year the canyon is glorious; remnants of fall cling, golden and red, to nearly naked branches while bright green buds, heralds of spring, burst from those same nearly naked branches. Crusty white snow fields remind one of winter and occasional showers of sunshine promise that summer will come. Stunning.
Unwilling to cage my toes, I wore hiking sandals. Conceding to the likelihood that there would be snow in the upper reaches
(there was), I also wore wool socks. My toes were happy but my butt was not. Hiking sandals were not designed for snow; they have fabulous traction on sandstone but slip like skis on snow. And, while they may slip like skis on snow, they do not work like skis on snow; there is no turning or stopping. Boom, splat, down I sat (and slid).
While picking out this year’s fair pigs, the gentleman farmer who will be selling us the pigs asked if he could rent our rooster.
He does NOT have a rooster and DOES have a hen that is nesting. Currently she is faithfully warming a nest of sterile eggs and he would like to see her maternal instincts bear fruit (or chicks, as the case may be). When I told Lance about the rooster rental proposition, he accused my friend of pimping the bird. I started to explain my friend was the customer, not the hustler…..until I realized that if he was the customer, then I was the …… Time to change topics.
Mr. Miles still likes M----. One of his best friends also likes M-----. This would not do so they agreed to settle the matter with a game of Connect Four. The game’s winner would have courting rights; the loser would step out of the picture. Miles won. Now he and M---- sit together during carpet time every day.
Miles loves white bread, probably more than he loves M---, and the only time he gets white bread is when he takes the Sacrament during our worship service at church. Last Sunday he whispered to me, “Why do they make the pieces of Sacrament bread so small?” Whispering back I explained that we don’t take the Sacrament to get something to eat; we take it in remembrance of Christ’s body. In all earnestness he replied, “But if we got bigger pieces it would take
more time to eat it and we would remember Christ longer.” Good point.
I give my students homework every class. Their most recent homework assignment was “Enjoy Spring Break”. With a completely straight face and stark sincerity, Connor said, “Mrs. Hislop, I don’t think I can complete my homework in time.
It will take me at least two weeks to fully fulfill the assignment.” I wonder if Connor will be in class on Monday and, if he isn’t, will he blame my homework assignment for his absence. Perhaps his to-do list is as long as mine.
Well, my to-do list is not done but this letter is. Have a fabulous week.