This Blog Is Dead…

Just kidding, but without many comments there is really not a great inspiration to write here. Thus, I’ve been writing in other places.

This blog has been about relationships, thoughts on military service, homeschooling, grief, death, family matters, venting a bit of satire…

It has been a learning opportunity. The opportunity to write a little, share each article with only one or two people, and basically ignore it the rest of the time. When life is too complicated to explain, just blog it…

What has been going on with us?… furthermore, who the heck are we?

I’m Shane Cameron, not a professional boxer. Licensed contractor, some people joke and say I was born a roofer. That’s my specialty, but I do a lot of other things. My daughter is Lily, we were bereaved as she was only 13 months old when mommy passed in her sleep.

Two months later we needed to rest, and went to Mexico and spent the whole week of Semana Santa in Los Reyes, Michoacan, Mexico. Imagine taking a 15 month old baby in a backpack carrier, one suitcase, two plane tickets, and some crazy scary bus rides you’ve only ever had bad dreams about, I hope.

I never stopped writing, but I have rather been writing in various places.

Does anyone like this blog? It seems okay, there are 12 subscribers + reader 😉 so, I guess at least these twelve nice subscribers might like to see a bit of other material.

This blog has been random, variable, sometimes a little bit of a rant, opinionated, and hopefully funny. One of the posts may have made some people cry. Those are a big challenge to write. Everything is a big challenge to write.

The blogs include almost exclusively my original photography on each blog, fun information, travel discounts, and they are written by yours truly.  Each website and blog has links to connect on social media, I manage 3 Facebook Pages, One Pinterest, One Instagram, Two Twitter accounts, please do connect with me on Social Media also, and check out these more fun, focused, and sometimes more funny, informative, or serious blogs.

A blog about grief that is brand new, I just started writing here because I’ve written a fascinating novel about grief, in the process of editing now. Widowed But Not A Spider,

This started as a way to share a few travel stories, and a request from Italy came in. A little bit of help, thank you! Now, I must visit Italy in the future for a homeschool adventure! Living In The Free World is our travel blog, we travel just enough to have a need for this.

Boulder County Foothills Colorado

I was invited to write for Kiss From The World, a popular website in Germany, Turkey, and read all over the world. It is a community of travelers, the stories are touching, beautiful, amazing. I’m truly honored for the invitation, and am able to publish at will.

The following two websites, and two blogs, I’ve put together for business.

Allied Roofing Colorado, Allied Roofing San Jose, Colorado Roofing Blog, California Roofing Blog

Also if you like Gardening, ask about my small, but very international gardening group on Facebook, or Facebook MBTI INFJ Group.

It has been a pleasure writing here. Please leave comments anyplace, email, say hello, like, wave, shout, but don’t call us late for tea.

Thank you again for reading, subscribing, and following for so long here. I can’t wait to get connected again in other places and see what everyone is up to these days.

Cheers!!!! and Lily says Ttylxox!

Shane Cameron

P.S. Some of our new favorite hobbies/business include Freelance Travel Writer, Business Marketing, Hosting Couch Surfers, and we’re looking for House Sitting Opportunities, Volunteering with animals, Participating in Veterinary University Extension programmes, more photography….  Please do drop us a note, we can’t wait to get back in touch.

Who Gives A Flying Saucer?

Who gives a flying saucer about Television Programming?

I simply got tired:

-Tired of hearing the people bashing.
-Tired of the sugar coated lies, distortion about money in exchange for blessings. *indulgences
-Tired of being ‘encouraged’ to lay it all down and carry a symbol.
-Tired of being told ‘I don’t even work’, even though I constantly work.
-Tired of quickly doing any favors over, and over; favors to the same people who do not reciprocate when a favor is much needed in my life.
-Tired to being expected to do favors by entitlement folks.
-Tired of the unwanted ‘favors’ of others, advice, judgmental words, probing, manufactured rules, twisting ideas of fate.
-Tired of the anti-female, man centered, patriarchal, abusive, wife bashing, teenage hating, cultish… hogwash.
-Tired of seeing legalistic prying eyes handing longer, longer, longer dress to the ladies.
-Tired of hearing married men complain about their wives, men that are supposed to be an example.
-Tired of being handed books by heretics, abusers, haters; praised as ‘a really good read’.
But, most of all…..

I got tired of trying to make friends in an environment with a bunch of people sermonizing the life of everyone on earth with their impressive bible-wielding-skills.

Did I go to sleep?

Hell no, I didn’t go to sleep…

I woke up!

If this offended you, please go watch some Duck Dynasty reruns… and I will too!

Okay 🙂

 

Updated: Sometime in January 2014, I’m too lazy to look at the date on my iPhone.

Did any of that make anybody laugh?

What is Thanksgiving?

By: The Little Writer Girl

Thanksgiving is a wonderful thing

For friends  and family  to be neat.

The one thing about Thanksgiving is turkey

But the first thing abut thanksgiving is Jesus.

Let The Children Worship: Kicking Kids Out of Church

As I stood in the church lobby Sunday night, a gentleman by the name of Henry asked to speak with me in private. Always open to talking, we continued to the less crowded church parking lot. His demeanor changed, shoulders slightly back, chest perched a little, the following words came, “You were wrong”.

“Okay”, I answered gently.

As a willing person, I enjoy participating in church function, civic activity, volunteering, learning, teaching, community. However, Henry is a man in his early 50’s and had brought his little granddaughter to the Sunday morning church service.

During church a team of people are responsible for the order, safety, cleanliness, environment of the church, also known as ushers. It happened to be my duty that Sunday morning to sit in the church sanctuary/auditorium…

The usher team is trained with helpful technique, emergency procedures for CPR, assisting people, opening doors, all of the fun logistics.

This was not my first position in logistics, in fact, as a teenager I received a phone call from the director of a non-profit I’d been selected to attend. This phone call came after attending the conference events for two years.

In middle school, a teacher committee selected one other student and myself to attend this conference.

The conference included people from around Colorado. At no time in my life have I been surrounded by this kind of Awesome!!!

Naturally, I accepted the offer to join the logistics staff. This invitation also offered invitations to more conferences throughout the year. The friendships remain to this day. Funding was cut a few years later, and I have no idea what has become of the organization. Those are some of my best life memories. The actual events looked like something out of an old feel good party movie, or being in a music video. Kind of like the Ottawan.

Back to the church parking lot, Henry was legitimately upset.

Search results for: Keeping children quiet in church reveal a variety of complaints.

Emily was her name, she must have been two and a half, Henry’s granddaughter was in church that Sunday morning. Enjoying the song service, most children joining sing, coo, talk a little (rarely happens at this church as the children’s programs are elaborate).

The church evangelist approached me during the start up song service letting me know to keep an ear out for Emily making noise.

I was taken off balance by this and had been attending this church for years.

At another point during the song service, a pastor approached me and said the same thing.

Near the very beginning of the preaching, the same pastor asked me to have Henry and Emily to retreat to the church lobby, or nursery.

Honest to goodness folks, I didn’t hear anything…. nothing, Emily seemed pretty quiet from where I sat.

Like a heavy weight, after lame complaints, annoyed, stupefied, embarrassed… I walked over to Henry, sir, I’m very sorry, the preacher asked me to ask you to take Emily to the lobby or nursery, some of the older folks are disturbed.

I’m in complete agreement with Henry.

Later that day, in the absence of Emily, as she rejoined her parents, with his finger pointed in my face, other hand curled tight in a fist, in the parking lot Henry said, “I’ll never go to this church again, and it’s because of you”.

“I’m sorry, and you’re right. It wasn’t my idea, and I was just doing what I was asked”.

Those words sunk in.

It would have been better to stand up, walk out, and never return before offending Henry. Henry may be much older than I am, but are we not all children?

To offend a child of any age is worse than being tossed off a bridge with a weight around the neck. Isn’t that awful.

WKWJKO Whose Kids Would Jesus Kick Out?

Years have passed since Henry left the church, in fact, I left right after he did. On my last trip to the grocery store, while shopping, there he was, Henry.

We made eye contact walking toward one another in the store, I sincerely brightened with a genuine soft smile as I realized it was him. He did the same, only we both kept walking, passed one another and that was it.

As I stood looking at baking ingredients, it hit me, Henry.

I walked his direction as fast as I could.

All I wanted to do is to tell Henry “You were right”. That’s all.

As I walked quickly in his direction and searched around, I remembered that he was so angry years back, he probably wanted to punch me in the face back then.

I wonder if he still wants to punch me in the face.

At least he didn’t kick me out of church like I did to him. What an awful memory.

Some things are too stupid to write about. Some things must be written about.

This doesn’t seem stupid at all.

What’s the point of 100 adults sitting in the rows hearing repacked messages in absolute silence, shipping kids off to classrooms. Why the segregation? Isn’t Sunday or whichever day you’d like supposed to be a family day?

As a parent, I’m okay with children’s church, but I must be welcome to attend with my child, it’s a simple rule I have.

As a person, I’m okay with children being children.

It’s funny to watch husbands and wives carry on whisper chats, listen to the Amen corner, Sister who says ‘preach it preacher’ every five minutes. But, the children must be silent.

What do you think?

Should we Let The Children Worship?

Proof-Texting: A List of 5 Examples and 5 Reasons to Stop!

An old dangerous game is being played in the churches: Knock out the congregant with misquoted scriptures.

“Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me”?

The truth about the famed new testament writer, tells readers that his mission was redirected.

Saul had plans of visiting followers of Christ, penalizing them with their own creed, sentencing those to death.

In Acts chapter 26, the accounts of a man changing is notable for its unique appearing.

The reality of Saul’s zeal and mission was to judge others, condemn them to punishment, death, all for non-conformity.

Saul was shocked along the road to Damascus, as he and others were overcome with a bright light. A light so brilliant, they fell to the earth.

What is Proof-Texting? 

Proof-texting is when one person takes a scripture out of context and attempts to apply it to another person.

5 Examples of Proof-Texting:

1. “The number one thing that God hates is sexual sin”. This may be referencing cases in the bible of rape, incest, temple prostitution, King’s stealing the wife of soldiers, having said soldier killed in battle, it is not however mentioned as the number one thing God hates.

Polygamy, is however an accepted practice through volumes of the Bible, history, modern day cultures.

Explain that….

2. “If a man doesn’t work, he shouldn’t eat”. This is a statement I’ve heard repeated by the same person in every conversation we have. It has become a proof-text dead horse. Sincerely, an obvious form of judgement. Low and behold, this proof-texting person is a pastor, receiving income at the hands of her congregants. It’s funny to hear a person who lives on church funds tell others to work (especially to the people who do work). It is meant to be an insult.

3. “Forsake not the assembling”. In other words, “go to our church, or be forever fearful of losing rewards in heaven”. This particular statement bears a single reference in Hebrews and is one of the most misquoted quotes in church history. The idea of an all encompassing church meeting three times a week is merely sinful in comparison with the first century church meeting daily. Therefore, missing church, abstaining from church, changing churches, home church: all fall under the judgment of this passage in some twisted form or another. Oh, and it was daily, not daily and two times Sunday. Seven church services a week, and you’ll be washed clean…. maybe.

4. The Rod of Correction: Designated as any instrument appropriate for hitting children, you know because What Would Jesus Do, or better yet, whose children would Jesus beat? None, Jesus said it would be better to die by drowning than to offend a child. Is being hit offensive to adults? It’s also offensive to children. To be honest, I was beaten as a kid, sometimes to biblical proportions and look what happened, I’m not “just fine”, otherwise I’d choose something else to write about. I didn’t turn out better for being wrongfully accused, bruised. In fact, this is simply wrong. The first mentions and progress of the Rod has to do with shepherding, guidance, instructing. A sheep astray would be gently carried back to the fold, not driven away with a beating. Sadly, the translators have sorely mistaken the meaning, words in this text. The rod is all about gentle instruction, no shepherd would beat livestock, so stop telling people to beat their kids.

5. Women are to adorn themselves modestly: And that means any way the rest of the women in the church dress. No makeup, skirts dragging on the floor, long sleeves, turtle necks. The idea behind this proof-text is that women serve, mostly as a temptation, baby factory, cook, housekeeper and should look base, unattractive, no braided hair, no jewelry. Really? What was it Jesus said at the well “Woman, surely you have five pairs of Yoga Pants, and the pair you’re wearing now does not even belong to you”….. yea, something like that.

It’s disturbing to see how the church enjoys sexualizing men to work, women to be subservient to the needs of men. It’s almost as if they forgot about intersex born people.

Okay, so women dress in plain baggy clothes, men go to work, the other sexes don’t matter, nor do they exist according to churchianity.

5 Reasons to Stop Proof-Texting

1. It is bad theology: Taking scripture out of context, shoe-horning ideas into sermons, fault finding, all have got to go.

2. It is harmful: Using a bible verse to comment on another person is typically not a helpful remedy, it falls along the lines of gossip, often disguised as a-need-for-prayer, change, more faithful service, better offerings.

3. It is obvious: To the trained eye, the proof-texter is easily spotted. Among being guilty of unrighteous judgement, one is also pointing out their own feelings of guilt and shame.

4. It is a self-fulfilling-prophecy: That’s right, when one judges another, three fingers point back judging ones own self.

5.  There exists no biblical basis for proof-texting. The bible was written of specific accounts, with specific people, of men and women. Remember Miriam, Hannah, Ruth, Elizabeth, Esther, The host of women in Psalm 68:11, or doesn’t your bible mention women in Psalm 68:11?

 

Finally, the amount of reading, prayer, study one invests time in means absolutely nothing from a heart that is not free. A person focused on correcting others is living in a mental prison.

There is a good indication, those caught up in proof-texting are truly trapped in their own jail cell of judging. Cages they’ve built up for their own selves.

The first step to building oneself into a spiritual trap is to begin looking at God through rose color glasses. Before reading, studying, put on some filters, find what you want to find, begin at the conclusion and work backwards. These are the keys to mastering proof-texting.

A certain amount of unholy pride goes into slapping a person in the face with scriptures. Worse, would be to ask a pointed question, reply with a bible beating, sinner!

My only question: Have you hung out with any prostitutes lately, given a hug to a smelly homeless person, tipped more than 10%, appreciated anyone, anywhere, at any time, other than your own proof-texting self?

My only reply to the Proof Texters: Go wash yourself in the Jordan River seven times.

Why wash seven times in the Jordan? Because, it will give everyone plenty of time to walk away from your passionately mistaken dogma.

 

You might also like: A guide to exposing modern idiocracy “Do you find yourself feeling stranded and alone on the island of intellect, surrounded by the ocean of stupidity?”

23 Great Reasons to Avoid Homeschooling.

Consider avoiding homeschooling if you:

1. Have a bad attitude.
2. Think homework should be sent home by a teacher.
3. Enjoy the cost of transportation, fuel, time, logistics, meeting the schools schedule.
4. Believe that a 25:1 or 30:1 Student:Teacher ratio is better than 1:1 or 1:5 or more teachers than students.
5. Enjoy paying peak prices during tourist season vacations.
6. Enjoy the crowds of “everyone else” who is on vacation because school-is-out!
7. Think a trip to Disneyland could never be a homeschool/learning adventure.
8. Believe that children should be silent, seen-and-not-heard.
9. Accept the idea that children will be bullied. After all, kids will be kids.
10. Accept the idea that people will tell your kid that they are, Stupid, Retarded, Ignorant, Ugly, Fat, Dumb, Slow, White, Mexican, Black, Asian, Cracker, Honky, Redneck, An Illegal Immigrant, A hoodlum, Non-Compliant, Disobedient, Rebellious, Trouble Makers, Shameful, Guilty, Depraved….
11. Believe that it’s good to “hold-it”, because everyone should learn to use the toilet on a strict schedule.
12. Are in agreement, fifteen minutes of playtime is plenty, get those kids back to work.
13. Believe that learning is a specific activity, directed by a skilled authority person at a designated time.
14. Hate creativity, schools effectively lock-up all learning materials by middle school, vandalism and theft are the first things to worry about, not freedom and learning, not experiments, kids should not have beakers and telescopes unless properly supervised, lest they be removed from the school on a five-finger-discount.
15. Think schools need the enrollments for their funding, after all just because the graduation rate is roughly 50% doesn’t mean we shouldn’t stick it out and participate. Every students beating heart helps get the funding in the door.
16.  Are unwilling to learn.
17. Think children need to sit in a chair in order to learn.
18. Think learning comes from text books/assignments/memorizing/repeating.
19. Believe that a primary care physician is qualified to quickly diagnose and treat mental disorders in children labeled with ‘behavior problems’.
20. Think 45 minutes per subject/per day is the best way.
21. Simply don’t have time, it would be inconvenient and a sacrifice.
22. Absolutely believe it is wrong for children to Talk Back, Say No, Refuse to Comply, Ask Questions, Disagree, Form Their Own Opinion…
23. Are willing to take a 50/50 chance on graduation success.

I hate this blog

Because I end up laughing at myself, it’s embarrassing.

And then, I do it again, I write something and click publish… I hate it!

Here is what I just finished writing, it’s ridiculous, I’m going to laugh at myself as it gets edited, proofread, chopped… published

Please do not read:

Spending nineteen thousand hours in the same buildings, with the same people, with an ever evolving set of standards, rules, GMO’s served.

Bathrooms, Food, Water by special permission only.

Who asks to urinate? That’s embarrassing.

Who asks for a drink? That’s silly.

Who asks for food and is told to wait? Beggars, not my children.

But, they need to learn to comply don’t they?

Respect and compliance are not the same thing.

What can 19,000 hours of socializing do for you?

Ever hear of quiet time? Time outs? Suspension? Detention? Expulsion? It sounds like war…. doesn’t it.. here, try reading those words again while thinking about a warm fuzzy war story in the news: time out, suspension, detention, expulsion… that’s war terminology. No it’s not 🙂 Yes it is…

Did you know that not so long ago children were treated as if in boot camp, marched in and out of class, even dismissed in a military fashion? 

For what reason would children need to march like soldiers? 

Better yet, how about filling out forms for a good amount of that 19,000 hours?

Forms are good!!! Especially if you’ll need to apply for any government loans/give backs/jobs/enlistment/contracts…… after you meet the taxman kid.

One more time please: Forms are good!!!!

Even better, lock the place down and make kids ask for a toilet break, water, food, to leave the campus, to leave their chair.

If anyone farts, call the police and have them arrested, even the youngest of them, even down to the age of 5 years old.

If they can’t sit in the chair… take them to the doctor for some Ritalin.

If Ritalin doesn’t work… there is stronger stuff… take ’em back to the doctor.

Luckily, the government has a way for every kid to do this, even teenagers, all the way up to eighteen or nineteen years of age.

Do it for the children!

If you are one of the lucky kids and are happy with the success of those 19,000 hours, please like this post.

Highly Appreciated: Rude comments, war stories and controversy.

My favorite part is about farting, but the reality is, this actually happened in a school.

I hate my blog.

Now, I’m going to laugh at my self and hope nobody ever reads this.

Sometimes, Quitting is Impossible…

without taking a public ride of shame.

 

The best part about arriving at the top of a mountain and sliding off a ski lift is seeing all the Texans wearing Wranglers and Dallas Cowboy’s jackets.

We all know who you are and love the style. It’s a good thing you brought two pairs of wranglers because it’s cold. At fourteen, I was convinced to try snowboarding, my head, buttocks and wrists hurt after a day of that. A few years passed before snowboarding became my new mountain to conquer. Skiing is something that seems born in to me. Before conquering snowboarding, my spine conquered some of the finer points of bouncing down a mountain full of rocks, bumps and trees. I still do it, but a little less aggressively these days. Finding that the body responds better when less jostled is a hard learned and often too late discovered truth. Some people can’t help but do a million flips until they are 75 years old, I applaud their abilities and hope for the same.

My daughter began snowboarding on her birthday if I remember accurately. Nobody sticks around to argue facts here, it’s a peaceful place and we always work together to find solutions.

She had a couple of lessons. By the third day, she was on the intermediate slopes in beautiful powder as deep as her chest. We ate up all of the powder days that year, got snowed in a few times and did it the next day. The powder pass was on sale and kids passes were free for her age. We ate, we laughed, she cried, at times I wanted to cry, I encouraged her, we made it down each time. It was frustrating, fun. The best thing about being stuck twelve thousand feet on a mountain in a steep field of fresh snow is knowing there exists one way down, by sliding frantically past trees, bumps, rocks, ledges into pillows of neck deep powder consuming a tiny purple dragon into the snorkel zone. It’s really frustrating to learn anything new at all, but the point is to learn.

Tears in her eyes and screaming at me about how hard it is, cold, she now drags me down the advanced stuff, no bowls, glades or chutes yet, but I see it coming.

It seems as hard as things are to learn in life, they require more maintenance down the road. It is wonderful to see children explore. I tried to follow Lily around the playground when she was less than two years old. My head got bumped a couple times, playgrounds are not for helicopters, parents or people over four-foot-something. As a loving parent, none would ever let their kid get hurt, on purpose. Every child burns their hand, gets a scrape, broken bone, some are more cautious than others. I realized early on how important failure is to the learning process. If a parent is an instant safety net, helicopter, dispenser of answers, and swooping up baby from each little incident, how may children learn to learn? It’s hard, it takes a lot of deep breathing to watch a kid fall down and not have a huge reaction. Trying to wait for their response is a lot less scary, sometimes kids don’t even need comfort, they can handle it without a drama.

Being the dad of a princess is challenging. She has an inventive mind, always wantint to create, build, explore, investigate, mix, discover, collect, gather, spend, earn, learn, jump, run. I have no skills with hair styles, understand little to nothing about painting nails, French braiding, but can teach about music, English, Spanish mathematics, science, language and learn about anything.

I like to make fun of societal norms, identify common beliefs and make a joke things that seem common, but not natural. 

For good measure and in the spirit of what I do best, please look at this funny yet tragic picture. This guy is probably not a Texan, but I’m pretending he is, because who doesn’t love to make fun of the biggest state?  (Excluding Alaska). If ever I go to Kentucky, watch out. 

 

Now, the Purple Dragon has learned to snowboard, she’s pressuring life to get on a pair of ski’s… If we don’t do it this year, we will be one year older when we finally get around to it. 

Logic, Facts, and Figures are Great but…

…consider what may be missing in a highly practical environment. 

In a social setting such as work, church, school, athletics or any variety of places, if socializing has a stigmata, why not just complete such activities in a more free environment?

In recent years, various rules have emerged in schools, no contact rules, no hugging, nothing. I wasn’t a hug giver in school mainly because I had no idea who was dating who. For an observing person, I sure have no clue about pop culture and gossip, thus Vogue magazine arrives in my mailbox each month. It looks like Katy Perry is losing weight and Michelle Obama wrote a book, beyond that, I know nothing. What is the deal with no-contact? “Tag” is a game long gone, do children even know what “freeze-tag” is? How about “cartoon tag”? But, it’s okay to play tackle football and full contact wrestling. I loved tackle football, hardball and wrestling as a kid.

In years and decades past, rules and standards have emerged for the workplace to discourage socializing, some of those concepts have been helpful. Work should be a practical place. It would be odd to work at a place for years and not have at least one friend in the company. I’d say, they overdid the discouraging.

When it comes to philosophical environments, is it logical to believe that socializing should not be encouraged? It’s not overshadowing to remove socializing from the workplace, but to remove it from the core of belief, might have some unforeseen effects.  Could the idea that philosophical organizations are to revolve around logic, facts and figures be missing something? Is there something more to be desired?

A good number of people are able to isolate into their small world, work in a practical manner, be greatly satisfied, yet fail to connect with some of the most important things in life, relationships. Now, this would not be such a bad thing, yet if a large group of people were to have that ideal over their heads like an ominous cloud, it could have a more universal impact on the group or organization. These theoretical individuals could have good relationships in isolation, and fail to connect with their outside world on a deeper level than logic alone offers.

If social rejection by logic is part of a belief system, don’t be surprised when the true diversity of individuals begins to disappear. Either the people will conform into the ideal, put on two faces, become bored, tune out, find a more friendly environment….

Illiteracy is a Decision…

…often handed down by authority.

The following is an excerpt from: As I Remember Copyright 1986 Pioneer Publishing Company. A story about homesteading life in Pritchett, Colorado written by a close relative.

Chapter 11 School

Page 58

Spring 1916 continued to big black headlines in Papa’s Denver Times about the war in Europe. Relatives and neighbors who stopped by our house often read Papa’s papers too and it seemed to me that war was the main topic of conversation with these visitors. They might ask, “Sam, do you think we are going to get into the war?”  I didn’t like these conversations as I sat ignored and bored at talk I didn’t really understand. But sometimes these conversations became graphic descriptions and maybe it was the reading aloud of horror stories about the war that caused me to have bad dreams. 

My horrible re-occurring bad dream, which I guess was a sort of continuing nightmare, had to do with me being along in a place I did not know among many many people, who looked at me with unfriendly eyes which frightened me. They talked and yelled at each other a lot in some language I could not understand. Terrified, I ran and ran searching for my family or anyone I knew, but never found them. This was a terrible experience I had many times and from which I would finally awaken, terrified and exhausted. Actually this dream has followed me into adulthood and it was only a few years ago that it came to me again. I’m sure my parents never realized that I would be listening, understanding some and worrying about these conversations. 

A new topic was entering more and more into the everyday discussions–it was about something called school. I didn’t know what that meant either, but I could see it was something my parents approved of and wanted very much. They explained to me that school  is where you go to learn, to be educated, and it is good. A few nights Papa came in from the field early to go to “school-meeting”. One night I was permitted to go with Papa and I was made very unhappy and upset to hear some of our always before pleasant and easy-going neighbors angry and shouting at each other as they were trying to decide where the school house should be built. Ours was as large school district–I believe six miles square–so that children living near the outer corners could have more than three miles to walk if the school house were built at the middle of the district. Some people wanted it one place, others wanted it somewhere else. 

Page 68 School

Opening bell rang at 9 A.M. at 10:30 the teacher said, “You may put your books away for recess.” When all desks were clean she said “Stand. Turn. March.” When we were all outside in a nice straight line she said, “Dismissed.” Now we had fifteen minutes of free time to go to the outhouse and then play games as time permitted. But as time went on I discovered that at the word “dismissed” the older girls were apt to run to the toilet and leave us little girls bringing up the rear so that by the time our turn came to go inside, the fifteen minutes were about gone. At 10:45 the bell rang and we assembled our lines outside….

Page 69 School

I remember taking great pride in making my letters the very best I could and any praise made me feel nine feet tall. I know all children–indeed–everyone needs praise, but I believe I needed it more than most because so little came my way. So I tried very hard to excel at school and take good reports home to my parents and Grandma Huff.

I believe on my first day of school I learned a new respect and value for our cistern with its always ready cool water. Immediately after eating lunch and finishing with the good sweet prunes, I wanted a drink of water. Everyone want a drink too, but there was no water. There was talk about bringing water from home the next day but that did no good now. All afternoon I was very thirsty but had to wait till four o’clock, then walk the mile to Eikleberry’s before we could get a drink. 

I accidentally fixed some of the grammar and spelling errors. Not everyone thrives so much on praise as Vera Huff. Learning is about engaging with life and the environment. For some, accolade, merit, praise and pride are motivational. For others, these factors carry far less weight. For others, knowledge is where the interests are piqued.

In Kindergarten, I attended a private school. The teacher was infamous for being strict and old fashioned. The teacher was short and fit, slightly graying brown hair, neatly pulled back and braided as tightly as the teacher. She wore a long black skirt that touched the floor and a longsleeve, high neck, white blouse buttoned tightly around her astutely.

Once, a boy in class was slightly rebellious for a moment, the teacher marched him to the back of the class and instructed the entire class to keep their eyes facing forward. Everyone was petrified. I promise, not a single eye twitched or moved off the blackboard. I’m sure it was a yardstick, made in the U.S.A. no doubt of hickory or something good and hard. “Pull down your pants”, and then the swats. How demeaning. I’m guessing this young classmates desire for reading may have been reduced. His offence was very minor and actually a non-issue. Strict obedience, submission and silence are not coercive to the learner.

In the same year, at the same school, both of my older brothers attended, one was a Junior and the other Third Grade. After school, Grandpa would pick me up because Mom was at work campaigning for Denver International Airport to be built, Dad was out of state working. Grandma would sit and read with me until Mom came. Sometimes, I’d stay the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Grandma would read quite a complex story. It must have been a thousand pages. It was about a King Fisher, such a lovely novel. I don’t know if she read the whole book to me. In the morning, I would wake up to Grandpa’s coffee and newspaper. They had an old Burnt Orange telephone hanging on the kitchen wall, a cuckoo clock and the smell of waffles on the iron filled the air. I’d sit with grandpa after convincing him to let me drink coffee at five years old. As the morning wore on, there was more reading, Grandma would awake slowly and do the same thing.

At home, my parents would sit in bed together in the evenings and read novels, Dad read Western’s, Mom read Romance Novels. We always had to ask permission to cross the threshold into their room. Often, my brother and I would sit on the bed while they read, or we would bring a book. Mom came and read to us at night, sometimes it was Dad.

Back to Kindergarten, I learned to read from Grandma, it was easy. Reading was simple because I could easily observe and learn. My mind was ripe and the timing was perfect. By Second Grade, I was in a Government School, the teacher informed me that I was reading at a Twelfth Grade level. It meant nothing to me, it still means nothing.

The Librarian while in Second Grade was a foreign exchange teacher from Australia. She found a book for me Shark Lady, it’s a great read.

My dad had a small airplane, a two seat open cockpit ultralight. We went flying, it was awful, I loved it and wanted to do it again. Sitting in a bucket seat with a harness seat belt and nothing but sky under my feet, we flew up and down. Nose dives, eagles and hot-air-rising, it was miserably fun. I screamed for my mommy the entire time and would do it again. Thus, at seven years old, I read books to learn how to fly and for a pilot’s license. I never got my pilot’s license, but it’s not required to fly. I can still fly a plane without a license, landing in a crosswind could be an issue though.

Learning to read wasn’t about praise, it was about engaging with the world. It was about the King Fisher, the ultralight airplane, a dear librarian from Australia.

Many students do great with gold stars and good report cards, many do not. Learners should be physically or imaginatively engaged with their reading materials. Materials should be selected upon current interests, desires, hobbies, experiences. Creating a need to learn is as easy as creating an interest. Once an interest is formed, reading becomes essential.