October 31st, 2010

one of those days

Im Wald nicht heute

I'm punting on going to Wilderstead this afternoon. Deanne wants to stay home and watch Hera, who got sick last night. None of my friends whom I nudged about getting together are apparently available (only one replied, and that was a No). And I'm pooped from the last two weeks of busy-busy. So, it looks like I'll be staying home and watching The Next Iron Chef tonight, and try to get over to Wilderstead one day this week, just to wander the woods.
junior woodchuck guidebook


True Story:

I was down at the local IGA buying a couple of things, one of which was a quart of cream. The cashier -- a girl of about 16-19 years of age -- goggled at the carton that said, "Whipping Cream," and said in astonishment, "Is this whipped cream?"

"Well," I replied, "it's whipping cream." Quizzical look. "It's pre-whipped cream." Still no response beyond a confused look. "You know," I said, "whipping cream doesn't come in a can, it comes from a cow." That finally got a response.

"I did not know that," she said. She wasn't kidding, either.

/true story

Now, there probably aren't many farms left around here, but this is still a small town bordering a rural county in Indiana. What is wrong here cannot be fixed by any amount of money poured into the local schools.

The system is designed for the results it is getting. We need to tear it all down and start over.