Farmer H took my little helper tonight. Purloined my basement home companion. After an hour, I was ready to call and tell him enough is more than enough. "That boy young 'un needs his down time, not time bonding with you while holding the end of a 2x12 for sixty-five minutes." Of course I didn't call him, because to call from my dark basement lair, I would need to use the land line, which charges us long distance to call our own cell phone. What a crazy mixed-up world we weave when first we attempt to obtain the best deal on land, cell, and internet.
It was positively barbaric, I tell you! I had to carry my own bubba cup of ice cold well water down the steps to my dark lair. Fetch my own knee ice from the mini fridge. Thank the Gummi Mary, The Pony returned in fine fettle. It's a grand surprise then one exits the NASCAR bathroom to find that The Great Toilet Paper Fairy Kringle has left a gift outside the door.
Tomorrow we have an early out. I can hardly wait to find out what new programs I'm expected to learn and implement in two hours. I'm still reeling from the Monday faculty meeting where we learned of a new website to search for Common Core accoutrements. But like one wizened internet maven asked, "Doesn't that mean everyone can look there? Including the students? Because it's not password-protected. And I guarantee they'll find a way to get this information." Que sera sera. It's the end of public education as I know it. Oh, and we're getting access to a magical new site that rivals Study Island. With video! Of course, with only two computer labs, both occupied by regular classes, and two laptop carts with 20-minute log-in times, I'm not sure how all this cutting-education is going to be implemented.
But then, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is a skeptical old curmudgeon.