Been a while.

I have recently been sent this link. It is only a few minutes long and a good reminder of things we forget. You’ll want your speakers on.

http://www.ernestcline.com/dmd/

I have been real busy lately so, sorry about the lack of posts. If I can make it through February I am golden. Thank goodness it is a short monthJ

Not much happening, just work. The only cool thing I have been up to is hiking the perimeter trail at the local park. There is a lot of the trail I have already hiked here and there, but this is the first time that I am actually keeping track. The good news is that I can follow the blazes much better now that I know that when the Buckeye Trail and the Perimeter trail run together there are times they only blaze it blue.

I did break up a fight at school recently. That in and of itself is no big deal, the manor I broke it up is. So, it was early. The type of early that only comes before coffee, when without thought you bumble through your routine. I was walking around a corner when a fellow teacher flagged me over. I could tell in her eyes that something had gone wrong. As I approached her I saw it…the crowd. In a high school “the crowd” can mean only a few things and up to this point my ears had only heard the typical noise associated with packing 200 teenagers into a small area. It is strange, how our minds have the ability to shut so much out so we don’t overload. When in school there are certain words that can break the monotony of the noise. I heard one of the best, not once from only one voice, but several times from two voices. Yes, it was a fight. This was a real one, not one when neither want to fight and both a little to scared…nope this was a real one. As I approached there were fists flying, a female teacher stepped in and got punched (she is fine or I would not tell this story like this). From my left I heard another teacher yell, “I don’t want to get hurt”, my heart raced. Heck, I don’t want to get hurt! From my right I heard, “man its over there’s a teacher”. The gentlemen that was “winning” the fight reached back to take another shot an I, running on instinct alone, went to knock his arm down so he would not hit the “losing” opponent. When I made contact a funny thing happened. I knew I had something in my hand and squeezed. When I looked down it was the kid’s fist. At this point I did the only thing I could do, shouted in my deeper morning voice, “Its over!!”. I must admit I had no intention of catching his fist, I am not sure I even knew it was there. But from an observer’s view I caught his fist with the reflexes of a cat. Anyways, it was cool.