Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
...Now I will continue that post, saying it aloud as I type in order to further frustrate my former friend (the pencil.)
Every summer for as long as I can remember, I have been volunteering at a camp for people with disabilities...or, to put it the way I prefer to, people with different abilities.
This doesn't make me special or accomplished because volunteering there is not a sacrifice for me, it is a joy. The camp involves pairing up high school and college-aged people who bear (and contribute to) all the problems of this world-"buddies"- with those who are blessed with the joy of God no matter where they go-"campers."
(HINT--------> I'm definitely a buddy :-D)
Just starting this past year, two camps were set up to take place over the weekend during the school year. The first one occurred in October, but I balked at volunteering because I was afraid I would have too much school work, and would not be able to finish it if I was gone all weekend...I didn't have but an hour of homework that weekend.
Feeling bad about that, I decided to volunteer for this weekend, and, of course, I ended up having about 5-6 hours of homework and studying to do this weekend.
Teachers can be unpredicatable and goofy.
Camp was great fun as usual, and the weekend went by very smoothly with the exception of one blip on Saturday night...The details of which I will not share so I don't interfere with anybody's privacy. Everything turned out okay, though.
I would love to post pictures and tell you more about the camper I became friends with, but once again, I don't want to break anybody's privacy.
I'll just end that by saying it was a great time.
Pencil: My weekend was just dandy! ...Sitting in this danged drawer all weekend.
I don't want to hear it unless it's an apology, pencil!
You BETTER hope I don't get out of this drawer!
Shut up, pencil!
Where was I? ...Oh, yes.
I returned from camp Sunday night with the full expectation of studying literally all night. Now I don't do this a lot, only when it is necessary, but I had three energy drinks on standby to help me through the night. I was determined to ace that calculus quiz the next day...
I woke up.
"Dangit, it's already 6:30 (A.M.) and my throat's sore," I thought.
"And, whew, does my body ache!"
So started three days of a continuous 100+ degree fever that I still am carrying right now.
This is my third day straight absent from school...And unless I kick this fever by this evening, it looks like tomorrow will be my fourth.
I don't even want to THINK about all the work I am going to have to make up when I return.
But I still wouldn't trade this past weekend for anything :-D
Thursday, February 21, 2008
However, I am studying my behind off for a
HUUUUGE math test coming up next week...
On everything we have studied since we returned from Christmas break.
Just a moment ago, I managed to tear a large gash into my hand with the mechanical pencil I have been using to study all day. In an attempt to not bleed on my keyboard, I am going to cut this post short and find a Band-Aid.
Friday, February 15, 2008
"God a'mighty, what a toad strangler!"
Have a great weekend!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I usually like to be out of bed between 5 and 6 AM, but waking up before my alarm at 5 is unusual. It has happened before, though.
I fumbled in the dark while still lying in bed and flicked on my desk lamp. I grabbed a piece of loose-leaf paper from the stack I keep handy on my desk, and a pen from my aluminum can/pen holder labeled Allen's Sunshine Cut Italian Green Beans.
Still lying in bed, I scribbled out a poem. I was finished by 5:00.
Immediately thereafter, I got out of bed and tied about 800 knots on my castnet.
After my fingers were warn raw by the monofilament fishing line, I made a pot of grits and read the newspaper.
All before nearly everybody else my age even thought about getting out of bed.
The morning is the best time of the day. I don't know why so many people choose to miss it.
Poem posted next week!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
I know one Minorcan Factor reader who has strong feelings about it. Maybe even two.
For my out of state readers, FCAT is a test to see how well Florida public school teachers teach to the book and fulfill the beaureaucratic "Sunshine State Standards" for edumucation. Though it seeks to do so, it does not come remotely close to testing how much a student has learned in school. In my humble opinion, it only holds back true learning and creativity.
...But I am not here to complain about bureaucracy and the freedom of teachers to teach...
No, on this occasion I am here to proclaim my JOY over the administration of the writing portion of the FCAT that is occurring today at my house of learning. Being in my last semester of high school (whew!) exempts me from having to write a requisitely bland essay to "Persuade your parents to raise your allowance" (to which I would respond: "My parents do not pay me to live under their roof and eat their food")
Today I have a day off!
Maybe I'll go fishing when the moon gets high...
Maybe I'll finish planting some collard greens...
Maybe I'll edit the poem I wrote early this morning...
Maybe I'll leave it just as it is...
HERE'S TO BUREAUCRATS!
Friday, February 08, 2008
Today's Florida Crackerism is:
"Ya cain't git all yore coons up one tree."
Anybody want to take a stab at what this means? There's a popular corollary that has something to do with baked goods...
Answer Posted 2/12:
"You can't have you cake and eat it, too."
"Don't put all your eggs in one basket" would be acceptable, too!
Note: News on my property-purchasing plans will come soon.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
One of the great things about Weedman's, as with many other rural stores, is that it sells everything under the sun inside its cramped quarters. From motor oil to "Yoohoo" in glass bottles to boiled peanuts and tractor parts...I mean everything.
One of the many unique things about Weedman's is that is still sells Coca-Cola in those little glass bottles that my parent's generation are always reminiscing about. REAL glass bottles...no screw-on lids here...yes, you actually have to use a bottle-opener!! (This comes as a shock to much of my generation.)
Whenever I stop in there it is often tempting to me to buy a glass-bottled Coca-Cola and some roasted peanuts, and do something that is also unique to little rural southern areas: Coke n Peanuts. Yes, the peanuts are actually poured into the GLASS bottle and the two are....dreaten....simultaneously.
Today, as my mom and I were heading down to take a look at the property I am buying, I caved in to this temptation and bought a couple bottles and a jar of peanuts.
One thing here is that it is simply not the same with a plasic bottle as it is with a glass bottle. It's just something about an ice cold glass bottle that completes the equation. Oh, and another thing is that the rough peanuts take out the carbonation of that little bottle very quickly. So enjoy, but don't prolong the experience too much!
It's delicious! You should try it!!
Saturday, February 02, 2008
I'd like to give you more photographic hints, but I figure I can leave this open-ended and have ya'll guess what's going on here. The news will be mentioned in THE VERY NEXT POST I PUT UP.
Until then...Have an outstanding "National Men's Grooming Day!"
Friday, February 01, 2008
A gravel road
cut out of swamp and pine
winds through the memories
of my mind.
My thoughts wind down
this road of memories,
taking me back
to that family of mine.
We lived humbly
cows and swine.
We ate a few gophers,
and a gator
from time to time.
Old folks sat
in rocking chairs,
waving as I
passed them by.
I loved them all dearly,
and I considered them
Our house was
built of cypress,
and our spirit of
But our life was
soon to unravel,
like a spool
of cotton twine.
That gravel road
is a highway,
and the pine exists
The rocking chairs
and the people crave
more and more.
I do not recognize
without the hammocks
of palm and oak.
The gophers were
buried and suffocated,
and the land
covered with houses
like a cloak.
Our swamps now sit empty,
The panthers no longer run free.
Our river is choked with toxins,
And shredded are the backs
Of the manatee.
Our culture is dying,
Our Southern flag
No longer can we see.
Our house now sits empty,
No old folks left
To wave at me.
How the heart aches
Inside of me!
Take me back
to my road of memories!
Take me away
from this place!
My people are gone,
but not forgotten.
of a race.
But the real reason is...
I've been trying to unhook myself a little from the internet. I'm still networking with my friends on Facebook and keeping up with the national news, but for the most part, I am disconnecting myself from the World Wide Web. I haven't read a single blog except PureFlorida for months now (Which doesn't help, because after devouring the neverending creativity on that blog I always think "I cannot possibly be that good of a blogger" and become dejected. It's not your fault, Florida Cracker, it's my own complex :-D) It's kind of nice being away, but I would like to start reading again. So if I've been strangely absent from your blogs, it's not that I don't like you, I'm just trying to unhook myself :-D There's many times I wish we did not own a computer.
...Now on to the main attraction...
Tonight I will be posting a poem entitled "Adirolf" that I wrote in the middle of one night this past November. It's received positive feedback from my friends, family, and "Florida's Cracker Cowboy Poet," Carl Sharp, but I've been sitting on it a while for fear that it's too negative..
All that is said in it is true, but I fear that my writings on here are too pessimistic when it comes to Florida. Living where I live, though, and witnessing the urban sprawl and seeing people become less and less respectful, I frankly have a hard time being optimistic about it. (There I go again!)
I would love some feedback and/or constructive criticism on this poem. It's appreciated!