The Scorpio Races

I've had this book in my TBR pile for some time, and it worked its way to the top last weekend. I stayed up waaay too late reading it a couple of nights, and it stuck with me through my days. Maggie Stiefvater takes the Celtic/Irish/Scottish water horse legend, the capaill uisce, and brings the reader into the dream-like setting of Thisby. Puck and her brothers are orphans who struggle to eek out a living, and Sean is a young horseman who has a mystical touch. The story unfolds slowly and magically, and the meat eating, blood thirsty water horses are at once horrifying and majestic. Her scene of the herd of water horses "tearing in from an angry sea" may be one of the most beautiful things I've ever read, and it continues to stick with me. I'll be looking for more to read about the capaill uisce, but I fear nothing will compare to Stiefvater's rendition.

Nerdlution

I have never in my life managed to keep a resolution, but the folks at Nerdy Bookclub have created #Nerdlution as a way to inspire us to create habits. So, here goes, for the next 50 days, every day I will: Do something each day to improve my health-park farther away, make extra trips up and down the stairs, or skip the junk food. Read for pleasure. Not for personal, professional development, not for making recommendations for others (though I will-if I love a book, you're going to hear about it!) Make progress on my school website. I think that's enough. Any more, and I'm afraid I'll feel overwhelmed and get discouraged. Wish me luck!

Unless You're a Kid, Stay Out of My Classroom

I've been angry lately. Angry and frustrated. I am sick to death of people whose only knowledge of education comes from the fact that they once attended school, telling teachers how to teach. We would not tolerate for one second having these people tell our coaches how to coach, or expect coaches to take advice from the dad who once played middle school football, but when it comes to the classroom, everybody, except the teacher, seems to be an expert. Well, I am an expert, and I'll tell you what needs to be done in an English Language Arts classroom. Kids need to read, teachers need to provide interesting, valuable material for them to read, deep, relevant discussion of the reading needs to happen, and writing needs to happen. THAT'S IT. Any second that one of these things isn't happening is a complete waste of time. Money spent on anything else is money wasted. In addition, if parents will read, if parents will discuss the ideas in books with their children, the literacy rates will skyrocket. It's that simple. Read. Talk about it. Write about it.

And so it ends...

It's over-but it was a good night for it. A soft spring night under the lights. The flag over center field wafting gently in the breeze. Cleats scratching in the on deck circle, and the ball pops the mitt. Subtle courtesies: a catcher hit in the mask and the ump walks the ball out to the pitcher-speaks for a moment, and the pitcher drops to one knee to tie a cleat. Later-ump takes a foul ball off the chest protector. Catcher turns to see that he's okay, calls for time, and trots to the mound. Pitcher and catcher confer and Coach walks the ball to the plate. The game continues-and everyone's had time to recover-everyone's pride is intact.

It all ends on a bases loaded, double play ball. Just that quickly. It's finished. Twenty-seven years as baseball parents have passed in the blink of a double play.

No one wants to leave. Coach stands in the dugout looking out over the field. It's more than a season ending. This particular program also ended on that double play. The players mingle, hug, keep arms slung over shoulders, shed emotion through their eyes. Eventually they head for the bus. Our son walks with us. His baseball career began twenty-one years ago on a tee-ball field just a few miles away, and he smiles and nods when I tell him that. "I like that, I like the symmetry, the full-circle -You know-I don't mind walking away from baseball. But this"-and he nods toward his teammates-"it's hard for this to end."

 As we drive away, the lights are still on. They are all Fields of Dreams.

New Family Members

Over the Thanksgiving break the Epic family added another dog, a horse and a donkey. A treadmill, too, but we won't count it. Mr. Epic and I grew up around horses, but it's been many, many, many (you get the idea) years since we had one as part of our daily lives.

Oh, my. Jerry Sheldon (Epic horse) has lived his entire life in a suburban area boarding environment, surrounded by other horses, and not a great deal of open space. When he arrived and saw all of the "outside," and no equine companionship, he had a horsey melt down. He's a big boy, and one broken lead rope and another broken halter later, I decided he was going to have to have a four-legged best friend.

Did you know there are people GIVING AWAY donkeys? Seriously-go look on craigslist. And if you get one from the West Equine Rescue (I believe they work in conjunction with the Humane Society of North Texas), a lovely lady and her two friends will deliver it to you. It's good form to give them a donation. They have horses, too.

Anyway-on Sunday Tom Leonard (Epic donkey) arrived. He's eight months old, and 350 pounds of adorable. He had never had a halter on before, and it took three of us to drag/push/pull him into the barn. Fifteen minutes, and ten horse cookies later, he was leading around the paddock like he'd been doing it his whole life. Who doesn't love cookies!

Then it was time for introductions. Much over the stall door sniffing ensued, followed by a full paddock meeting. All went well until Jerry Sheldon (16+ hands, 1300+ pounds) decided to get pushy. Tom Leonard doesn't appreciate pushy. He kicked Jerry Sheldon. Twice. Jerry Sheldon decided to be the bigger equine and act civil. For now. I'm pretty sure he's going to get kicked every time he decides to try to get bossy.

Last night second Epic dog made the mistake of running up behind Tom Leonard in the paddock. I've never heard a dog make the sounds she made while scrambling for her life. Those stories about donkeys keeping coyotes away from herd animals-they're all true. That was one little ball of four-legged grey fury. And he was going to kill himself a dog. Fortunately for her, he couldn't get under the fence.

There's a new boss on the Epic farm. His name is Tom Leonard. He can be bribed with cookies.

Horse Heaven

When I was three my grandparents bought me a pony. Several months later our small East Texas community held its annual trail ride in conjunction with a week long festival. My grandfather and oldest sister were riding horses, my middle sister was to ride my pony on the seventeen mile long ride, and I was to ride in a covered wagon with Daddy and others.

As people gathered for the start of the ride, my poor Daddy was confronted with two hysterical daughters. He held me in one arm as I screamed, and pulled my screaming sister off of the pony with his other arm. As he pulled her off the pony, I grabbed the pommel, clambered into the saddle, and stopped crying instantly. As soon as my sister was in Daddy's arms she stopped her wailing, too. Those two got into the wagon, and I joined the other riders.

All of this came back to me this weekend. On Saturday, for the first time in twenty years, I climbed on to the back of a horse. I felt my face split into a grin, and that exhilarating sense of freedom flooded through me. While I'm an awful long way from that little girl, she is still inside of me, and she is thrilled beyond words that her barn will once again be home to a horse.

I must confess though, it feels odd. Almost selfish. It's something I desperately want, but I want it just for me. That doesn't feel right, but I'm pretty sure I'll adjust-especially once the grandchildren start to ride!

Teacher Bliss

My new sentence diagramming books from Barnes and Noble arrived yesterday!!!! I didn't tell Epic Husband and Youngest Epic Son what was in the box because, as much as they love to read, I was pretty sure they wouln't share my delight. One of them finally asked what I got, and when I told them, they just looked at me and shook their heads.

I can't help it; our language delights me, and its structure is facinating.