School Security Measures

The horrendous tragedy in Connecticut brings forth anew the question that schools hassle with on a consistent basis. How do you keep schools safe? As an educator I can truthfully say that we worked at it daily every minute of the day. Our students and their safety was always in the "forefront" of the mind.

I worked in public schools for too many years to confess and the longer I worked the tighter security within and around schools became. That should be an all telling factor of our society and its problems. This past school year I worked as a volunteer in a middle school media center in a school system other than the one in which I worked as an employee. Security measures were tight in the middle school, as well, with a full-time security officer on duty at all times.

I read a news report last evening which contained the letter written by the principal of the Newtown, Connecticut school concerning security policies and measures for the school year. It was detailed and set forth policies to be followed. Doors locked at 9:30 AM each morning. To gain access to the building you had to go through an identification process. This young man (killer) forced his way into the building and killed the principal and guidance counselor on his way to the classrooms to murder these children and teachers.

Who has the answer to this question? School systems and administrators work at policies for keeping students safe within the constraints of their budgets constantly.
Of course, the first thing you hear are calls for gun control which is a political hot button not necessarily divided by political party. The constitution guarantees the right to bear arms.
Interpreting the meaning of that right is another issue!!

Would states have the money to fund a security officer for the door of each school in this nation to better guarantee the safety of students? What is the answer to this huge, huge issue?? Any viable suggestions?

TS.....Again

I have got to be the oldest old person in town. I just can't come up with any appreciation for certain young singers. In the last few days I have heard all of this "twitter" about TS coming to town for a concert. One news person was all in a twitter about the tickets being sold out. I couldn't help but wonder what they did with the tickets --- pay someone to take them and attend.

So much has been written about the young blond who claims to be a singer in the past few months concerning her so-called romance with a certain young Kennedy. I am not certain that he knew (for sure) that he was in a romance. Then she hauled off and bought a house across the road from his family in Hyannis. Next there was the fiasco at someone's wedding when she came with so & so Kennedy and according to the news was dis-invited. Is that a word?? Twasn't too long before the supposed romance ended.

Anyway Raleigh residents should be forewarned that she is coming to town to sing those songs she made up about all of her romances and anything else that has happened in her short life. Don't know for sure but 'tis said that she reveals all in her songs. Soon she will be polluting the air with her latest -- something like--- Just sloshin' in the shower, washing off my funkies, wishing I had the power, to summon my rubber duckies.

Run, Raleigh, Run!!

Life is a Gift

I always enjoy the Tabernacle Choir Broadcasts. The music is wonderful and the messages uplifting and so often appropriate for needs whether spoken or not voiced. I enjoyed this recent message. Perhaps anyone reading or snooping on this blog might also. I am copying it to my blog for my own benefit.

“One Simple Gesture”

Have you ever received a gift that you could tell was made just for you? Not something that was mass produced and purchased from a department store, but something a loved one caringly crafted with you in mind. Maybe the craftsmanship wasn't perfect, but you were more than willing to overlook any imperfections because you could sense the love of the giver in the gift.

It has been suggested that “if we thought of life as a gift, we might not demand nearly as much from it.”1 One family who sees life as a gift started a tradition that before eating their family dinner, they would take a moment to express a prayer of gratitude. It's a little thing, but it reminds every member of that family to look heavenward and acknowledge the source of their good fortune.

No one's life is perfect, but everyone's life is a gift. One woman who was experiencing many of life's challenges and sorrows decided that she would set her alarm five minutes early and spend those extra minutes lying in bed thinking of all the good things in her life. She has followed this ritual for many years now, and though she gets a little less sleep every night, the spirit of gratitude starts her day off right. Not only does it help her recognize her blessings, but it also helps her enjoy them more fully.

Perhaps we ought to be a little more deliberate about seeing the simple goodness that surrounds us. Some days it's not easy to count our blessings, but those are the days when it's most important to try. Think of the air you breathe, the beauty of the earth, the loving people you know, and the good things that fill your days. Look for them and be grateful for them. Rejoice in the gift of life, and you will begin to feel the love of the Giver of the gift.

Just Like TS

As I sit here this evening listening to 60 Minutes doing a story on Taylor S_ _ _ _ _ I grit my teeth. I can't believe people think she is a great song writer --- or singer, no less. From the first time I heard her I could not stand that sound -- her music and her singing. The accompaniment for all of her songs sounds just alike, the melody line always sounds just like the last one she sang. And then there are the words--- supposedly she sings about everyday happenings. Well, who wants to hear about her doings??????????? Only some screaming teenagers, I suppose.

Let's see, maybe I could write a song like Taylor. " I am sittin in the floor, cleanin out the closet, found some old clothes, think I will give them awwwwwaaaaay on tomorrow if tomorrow ever comes." Sounds pretty good -- now let me put it to one of those same ole, same ole melodies of Taylor's.

Now I must stop dissing this girl and give her some credit. It is said that she lives a clean wholesome life and is a great role model for young girls. If this is so, she indeed
deserves this credit in a world where many entertainers are certainly less than clean and wholesome.

I expect no one to agree with me -- probably a good thing!!. These are just the thoughts of an old, old woman who appreciates a more melodic flowing musical sound.

Incidentally, earlier in this same 60 Minutes broadcast they featured a friar monk with a fabulous voice who is preparing to make an album. Interestingly, he can earn no money because of the vows he has taken with his priesthood, thus all proceeds from the recordings will go to charity.

All of these thoughts written by an individual who gave up on this blog and writing several weeks ago. Duh!!!!!

I Called Him Daddy

I thought I really had a tremendous case of writer's block but then I realized that Sunday is Father's Day. I need to write about my Dad to remind myself of how incredibly grateful I am to be his daughter. First, I owe him tremendous thanks just for choosing to be my Dad.

My Dad, like all other earthly Fathers, was less than perfect. He had his faults but blood run pretty thick, you know. We want no one else to know our fathers have any faults. When we are teenagers we sometimes disagree (with them) when their judgment and our choices do not match. As we grow older we may realize their weaknesses but our tolerance grows greatly and we instinctively become protective of our parents. Tolerance as in, perhaps, their political opinions or the sports teams they favor. Protective as when they grow older, are sick, or even may be widowed. (At least, I found that to be true.) I think my Father mellowed a lot with age.

My Dad was a really hard worker. He did not mind getting up early and toiling through the day on difficult tasks, and in doing this day after day. He was extremely neat and very organized whether it was his tools or his clothing. It was just the way he was and the way he preferred to operate.

He was a truly honest man. When I think of my Dad, that is the first character trait that pops into my mind--honesty. He was extremely responsible and dependable. He taught these values by example. He modeled them each and every day of our lives. As his children we have no excuse but to be the same if we learned by example.

My Dad was a mathematician. I am sorry to say that I do not think any of his living children inherited this trait. Sometimes he lacked the patience, although he could be a patient man, to put up with my inadequacies when trying to help me with Math. Upper level Math is not my strength. I could never be a statistician!!

Daddy was not much of a talker. Often he would not offer advice or even his thoughts unless asked. If you asked him, he might tell you what he thought but he wasn't much at nosing in anyone's affairs. Sometimes he just had nothing to say about a situation so he didn't talk. On the other hand, he could talk a big bunch about baseball!!
He liked to spend his evenings tuned in to a ball game until the bitter end. He liked all sports and watched all of them. However, baseball was his favorite.
My Dad was not a UNC basketball fan. I think that had its roots in Dean Smith's era of holding the ball rather than keeping it in play to win a ball game. Daddy despised that Carolina "slow-down ball!"

From my Dad I inherited my love of reading the daily newspaper. My Daddy and Mother would read the newspaper and discuss so much of its contents almost daily -- even the editorials. I developed that same habit. Ken and I both were newspaper readers and we frequently discussed the happenings, words and thoughts --- just like our parents.

My Father was the ultimate gentleman. Today's kids wouldn't know what to think as he would (always) rise to his feet when a lady entered the room, would yield his seat, or remove his hat when entering a building, just to name a few. He had been taught those courtesies at an early age and they followed him all of his life.

These are but a very few of the memories I have of the man I call Daddy as I remember him on this Father's Day 2012. My Dad died a few weeks short of his eighty-second birthday. He really wasn't ready to go and as he told a neighbor he didn't want to leave his family. One January day, after some months of decline, his heart just wore out and quit in spite of that little pacemaker he had.
I Love my Daddy.

Could This Be "The End"

I haven't written anything on this blog for at least a month. I never expected to have writer's block but I think I have a very serious case. Just do not seem to have a thing on my mind worth expressing through the written word.

Perhaps I am just tired or perhaps my brain has taken a "leave of absence" a condition of which some might believe I have always been afflicted!!

So....until I feel so inspired.....my last entry has been written.

But then again.....I might feel inspired tomorrow. Who knows???

Not An Ordinary Day

Today, May 6, a day, that after 1998, will always have a special significance to me. I can not seem to regard it just as another day on the calendar or in the case of this year, just another Sunday.

At 11:45 pm, May 6, 1998, my Ken breathed his last breath on this earth and passed beyond the veil. He left that mortal body behind and his spirit went to dwell in the next stage of existence. Throughout his entire sickness I was stunned as we moved from day to day, stage to stage of the most bizarre deterioration of a healthy body that one can imagine. I was stunned and bewildered as I sought a cause and a cure from the best medical help that I could find. About one dozen doctors together tried to find the cause, each with their own specialty comparing symptoms, medications, tests, and results. They, too, were frustrated.

I watched as an otherwise healthy man went down to a brain wasting disease in the most cruel way imaginable. My hands seemed tied. From week to week he seemed to lose functions like being able to tie his tie, a task he could always do beautifully, having learned as a very young man and having served in the military (where it had to be perfect.) That is just one example.
He thought he was depressed and told me perhaps a thousand times that "the old devil" was trying to destroy him. To this day I have never figured out what he was trying to say. But as a result, I never left him alone. Either I was with him or a relative or friend if I absolutely had something I had to do. I even took him to school with me every day. He read in an area where I could keep my eye on him.

He went through many, many physical changes as this dreadful disease progressed. Eventually he had to be hospitalized and developed pneumonia. His primary cause of death is listed as pneumonia. However, after his death, the conclusion of those professionals who treated him is that they had witnessed a rare case of a prion caused case of CJD -- some type of variant of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. There is no cure -- once the disease manifests itself the individual has little time left.

For a long while I felt paralyzed by what I had seen and experienced. To say it broke my heart for him is but a trite expression. This was a terrible, horrible thing to watch and not to be able to help. We always want to think we can help. This time, I couldn't. I couldn't help the man I loved most -- my soul mate.

Just a few of the reasons May 6 is not an ordinary day -- for me --- ever again.