Yesterday was filled with piddling busy work. I finished the book "In Cold Blood", cleaned my ink pen, did a load of laundry, pruned my airplane plant, put the little plugs in the bookcase to conceal the screws, watched a watercolor video (Tom Jones), bid on and won a watercolor pallette on EBay, painted over my herford calf's eyes (again), transferred an antelope drawing to watercolor paper, partially painted a 4" x 6" landscape, and recited my times tables.
What? Times tables? Yes, I really did. I was curious how easily I could say them, and it was easy. I have my old fourth grade teacher, Miss Fuller, to thank for that. When my mind is totally gone, I bet I will still remember my times tables.
Miss Fuller was a unique teacher. She lived right behind the school and often went home for lunch. The other teachers watched out for her. If she was late getting back, someone would cover her class and someone would go get her. She liked a good stiff drink with (or in place of) her lunch. I don't remember her teaching us anything else, just the times tables. She made us write them, recite them out loud, and we had races to see who could write them on the chalkboard the fastest.
In later years, I worked part time as a waitress in the Derby Bar and Dining Room in Shoshoni. Miss Fuller would often be there, and without fail, she would get mad at Nick about something, and tell him she was just going to buy the damned place and fire him. Nick would accept the check she wrote him, and tear it up later. No one argued with Miss Fuller.
The last time I saw her was at a funeral in Shoshoni. She was dressed like a bag lady, with several layers of clothing, and shuffled as she walked. She remembered me, but didn't ask me to recite the times tables.
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I'm going to watch this video today. I had a copy I made from a VCR tape years ago, and it won't play. So I ordered a new one. It has the most beautiful footage of large birds I've ever seen.
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Another pair of strange shoes.
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4 comments:
To use the word strange doesn't even come close to what those shoes are.
They are't as bad as the spider heels.
You sure have some food stories. I had a Miss Duffy, but it was Jr Hi by then and she gave me a love for Algebra, but she was too late to teach me times tables. I use my fingers to this day...or go back to one I know & keep counting. Sad.
From somewhere on the road south of Phoenix.
Miss Fuller sounds like my kind of teacher.
Duene, You truly have the most interesting blog. How you come up with this stuff is amazing! I was totally cracking up this morning.
Love it!
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