Hike

We headed to Paris Mountain State Park today for a warm-up hike for the coming fall hiking season. E and I, we prefer mountain biking. K enjoys it as well, but she prefers hiking, and she’s got a goal for this season: the Dismal Loop. Today’s hike was much less daunting:

We tried to talk the Girl into going with us, but she was intent on studying at the library. Of all of us, she definitely has the most negative opinion of hiking.

We’ve been to this lake several times, and we’ve even got pictures of L tottering about the place as a toddler.

The Boy managed fine, but he’s insisting that he’s outgrown these hiking boots — which he wore daily just this summer at Scout Camp. Is it possibe? And they’re the Girl’s boots, not his own boots.

Two signs of how our kids are changing: our daughter elects to go study at the library (I’m sure there was a fair amount of socializing as well — that’s how I studied at the library in high school), and our son is approaching full size with alarming rapidity, with a full-size appetite developing and a full-size teenage attitude emerging.

We decided to come head back next Sunday, and the Boy and I will ride while K takes the dog for a walk. The Boy, by the way, now rides K’s mountain bike whenever he gets the chance.

So that means we’re also looking for yet another bike for him. He’s not quite outgrown his bike physically, but he’s already putting demands on it that the poor bike can’t handle. He’s broken a chain once and gotten more pinch-punctures than I care to recall.

Once we got back and had some dinner, K did what she always does: she found some chore or other she felt she should have accomplished ealier and gets to work.

I graded articles of the week for my honors kids and snapped a picture of K, noticing once I’d converted it to black and white how awful our front yard looks.

Home Game

It was a tough loss: the girls were up 15-7 in the first set only to lose 22-25. It’s tough to lose after having such a lead, and it’s tough to go back out for a second set. But they did. And the struggles continued, and the frustrated girls took another one on the chin: 21-25.

Then came the third set. They jumped out to a quick lead just like the first set, but this time, instead of losing it, they increased it, taking the third set 25-14. “See? That’s what we’re capable of,” they seemed to be saying.

Then came the fourth set, which the lost 16-25. It’s these ups and downs, these moments of brilliance followed by moments of — what? — that are so frustrating for this year’s team. They know what they’re capable of: they’re just not managing to maintain it consistently.

Yet through it all, there’s our L, always the upbeat cheerleader of the team, always celebrating even the smallest victory, always cheering up the team when they’re down, always believing in her team.

Guest

I know today’s meeting with a counselor was very important for students so they would have an idea what to expect in the soon-coming high school registration process. I know they need to know this stuff. But do they have to learn it in my class? A class that is tested by the state? A high-stakes class?

Real Estate

While we were in Charleston this weekend, we saw a lot of houses that would come with seven- or eight-figure price tags were they to go on the market. It’s fairly common in the Battery area. In fact, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find something under $800,000.

And then we noticed this condemned building. Likely well over a hundred years old, it has certainly had better days.

The siding has completely deteriorated on one side of the structure.

to the point that the wall insulation and in-wall plumbing is visible.

Continuing around the back, I saw the back steps are completely wrecked,

and the entire back corner of the building is completely open to the elements, missing part of the roof and part of the wall.

Had the house been moderately maintained, it would be worth at least a six-figure sum even if it needed extensive renovation. Had it been meticulously maintained, it would likely fetch close to or even a little over a million dollars. But to do that requires resources, requires money — as the truism goes, one must have money to make money. One falls on had times but is still determined to keep a property in the family (only imagining a previous owner’s situation) until is no longer a possibility.

Whatever the story, all that’s left to do is demolish the building.

Labor Day Weekend 2024 Day 1

Labor Day weekend for many years meant one thing for our family: a weekend with dear friends at their lake house outside of Charlotte. This is the first time in probably six years that we haven’t gone.

Instead, we decided to spend the weekend in Charleston. It’s a favorite destination. There’s the beach at Isle of Palms.

It has lovely streets and historic buildings.

There’s Hyman’s Seafood, which has the most amazing deviled crab on the planet.

August Saturday

I’ve written often enough, I suppose, about how my Saturday rhythm has changed over the last forty years or so. Saturday once meant church, seclusion, no work, no socializing with non-church folks, no sports, no school-related activities. Nothing that could pollute our minds or get our focus away from our sect’s teachings.

Saturday afternoon at 2:30 we met at the IBEW (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) union hall. We usually arrived at least an hour earlier, and stayed at least an hour past the 4:30 end time. Every Saturday afternoon, a two-hour meeting during which men of dubious theological education pontificated about the conspiracy theories that comprised the bulk of the organization’s theology. The only saving grace was the playing (and later, as a teenager, socializing) that took place before and after the meeting.

Shrubs before

These days, my Saturdays are so much more fluid. Sometimes, there’s a clear outline to the day, with chores in the yard occupying much of my time. Once school starts, I send a fair amount of the morning grading students’ work. Today, for example, I went through 43 kids’ single-paragraph analysis of “The Cask of Amontillado.” They wrote things like this:

The narrator’s story can be trusted because Montressor is confessing his actions to the priest on his deathbed. For example, Montressor talks to the preist because he knows the “nature of [his] soul.” and would not believe that he “gave utterance to a threat”. This proves that the priest knows Montressor very well, probably because the same priest would come to his house often. The priest also would not suppose Montressor killed someone. He would most likely want to admit his wrong doings before he died. Another example is, In “half of a century” no one has disturbed the catacombs or found Fourtunado’s body. It shows that no one has found out what happened to Fortunato 50 years later. This also explains the reasoning why Montressor would tell his priest, because he would be very old by this time; old enough to be on his deathbed. To sum it up, because Montressor is confessing to the priest that he killed Fortunado, this narrative can be reliable.

I worked through the papers in between trimming shrubs, cleaning my bike chain, and cleaning out the basement.

The shrubs — didn’t L just trim those? Her chores on Saturday usually include getting crickets for her frog, shopping (she usually gets the week’s groceries on Fridays, but there’s always something more we need), and cleaning her room.

Shrubs after

The bike chain — didn’t I just clean it? Bike maintenance is something I’ve never really enjoyed. It’s so tedious cleaning a chain, replacing cables, adjusting brakes, replacing tires. But the worst of it all is definitely chain cleaning. No matter how carefully I clean it, there’s always a bit of grime left behind. But nothing makes a bike look better than a spotless chain.

Today, I used a new degreaser, and I was fairly pleased with the results. Ultimately, what I’d like is an ultrasonic cleaner that I could just drop the chain into for a few minutes and then let dry. But in the meantime, I’ll use a degreasing solution and toothbrush.

Cleaning out the basement — there’s been a crate of old books that K will eventually take to Goodwill, and among the books are several of my college lit anthologies. I’ve kept them for so long because — well, I really don’t know why. I haven’t cracked one open in so long. I had them at school for a long time, but I’ve run out of shelf space and brought them hope.

That is a story in and of itself. Last year, the state of South Carolina provided each English teacher with $3,500 worth of independent reading books so we could have a classroom library of contemporary, high-interest books. But this year, things changed:

Effective August 1st, 2024, SC Regulation 43-170 requires teachers to produce a complete list of the Instructional Materials (including classroom library books) that are used in or available to a student in any given class, course, or program that is offered, supported, or sponsored by a school, or that are otherwise made available by any District employee to a student on school premises. That list shall be provided upon reasonable request by any parent/guardian of a student in the District.

Greenville County Schools Press Release

In short, we’re not to have any books that even hint at sex. It’s another last-gasp effort of the far right to maintain its stranglehold on young people’s minds, I say to myself. For me, it’s simply a headache, which is why I’ve closed my library: I haven’t made the list yet, and I have no idea when I’ll be able to. In the meantime, I posted a sign explaining the situation, and I look forward to Meet the Teacher night when all parents can see the signs because I’m going to make my presentation standing right beside one.

So I guess in a way, my Saturdays have come full circle.

Ride

Four Fridays in a row now I’ve managed to get a post-school bike ride in. This time, a good friend from work joined me, and we made an evening of it. It seemed like it might be a bit too hot to ride, but once we got on the trail, it was relatively pleasant. Ending the week with a 19.7km mountain bike ride — perfection.