The Time Has Come, The Powers Said, To Speak Of Many Tools...Of Mrs. HM's Workmanlike Performance, And Stubborn Missouri Mules

Every dog has its day. And yesterday was that ol' b*tch Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's day!

You know how Newmentia has been in the throes of that dadblasted S L O and U O I gobbledygook? Even The Pony knows. He had to give a speech for his public speaking class (duh), after interviewing a faculty member. And that faculty member was Mrs. Hillbilly Mom! Go figure! He got to choose his interviewee.

As a part of the speech, he had to ask the interviewee's opinion of those dreaded alphabet soup programs. And Mrs. Hillbilly Mom pulled no punches. She did not hold back one iota. Okay. Maybe she reined in a plethora of iotas. But she still told The Pony how she really felt. Like that crap was a lot of busywork to awkwardly document what we already do.

But wait! That's not how Mrs. Hillbilly Mom had her day!

All these years, she has toiled long and hard, burning the afternoon oil whilst others made hay while the sun shone. Chained to her mini-desk, not even a proper desk to call her own, but a mini-desk, kind of like those sheep in Cold Mountain that Renee Zellweger as Ruby Thewes deemed not big enough to count as proper sheep, a desk inherited from a long-ago retiree.

But wait! Mrs. Hillbilly Mom did not get a new desk. Are you crazy? She's about to retire in only eight months and one week. Nobody would give her a new desk now. What would be the point?

You might recall the workday on which Mrs. HM was sick as a dog, but attended. And went to Urgent Care the next day. On her very own Saturday. Uh huh. She went to that workday to learn more about the S L O and U O I. Even though she had a fairly good grasp of the topic, having paid attention at all the regular meetings, and having built her own curriculum last year as instructed, even though that program has now fallen by the wayside, and cannot even be accessed to find the work Mrs. HM did, burning the afternoon oil at her mini-desk.

Others in her circle pooh-poohed the S L O and U O I. "I think I'll just make something up. I'm serious. That's just busywork. Nobody cares. Really. I might even make up my student list, too. Create some kids who don't exist." Let the record show that such a statement was NOT made by Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.

In fact, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom had most of her U O I in place at the end of May. Because supposedly we were to have it ready upon return in August. The whole shebang is due at the end of the week. Okay. Not the WHOLE shebang, but half a shebang. Mrs. HM slid her lever to READY today. Because it was ready.

And now...sit up and pay attention...DOOT DO-DO DOOOO! That's the long horns from that old Imperial Margarine commercial, just before the crown appeared on the head of the margarine-eater.

MRS. HILLBILLY MOM RECEIVED A COMPLIMENT!

Now don't get me wrong. Mrs. HM knows she has been appreciated all these years. Has she not been awarded the $150 stipend for not missing a single day all year, on four different years? Has she not been offered various subject matter to teach, because she is a Lifetime Certificate Holder of All Trades? She has been mostly left to her own devices. Supported when need be. Allowed free range with her subject matter, hair style, clothing, and classroom management style. And while Mrs. HM was never singled out for praise, even when praise was due, and that praise was on occasion heaped upon Arch Nemesis, who downright admitted to having no hand in the success that garnered her accolades...neither was Mrs. HM singled out for chastisement, or heralded as a bad example. So it came as quite a surprise yesterday when Mrs. Hillbilly Mom opened up her email and found a glowing endorsement of her superhuman effort.

"I reviewed your UOI and it was very well done."

YES! Fist-pump, baby! Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has been recognized for setting the bar. With such a glowing report, she can only imagine that the local newspaper will be knocking on her door for an interview. After all these years, Mrs. HM has finally done something right. Too bad it comes only eight months and one week from her retirement.

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom will be sorely disappointed if she finds out that a plethora of others received the same message. Especially an other with a list of fictional pupils.