1 year teaching anniversary

I passed my one year anniversary with University of Phoenix. I was reviewed by the school who sent a special representative to "audit" one of my classes. The Chair of the local campus reviewed their findings with me today. The auditor was very kind and stated I was excellent in the classroom and on-line. The Chair went on to say I was the best undergrad finance professor they have. While I might have been tempted to downplay or even disbelieve him I decided that I would simply thank him instead. Which I did. He went on to say he would recommend that I be offered a contract in January - a contract would guarantee me eight classes a year with the right of first refusal for the classes I am qualified to teach. That made me feel really good. It's nice to be recognized for doing a good job. It's nice to recognize that you've done a good job. And I was and I did. A little pat on the back to keep me going for another day.

a household repair adventure

The adventure for this weekend is the kitchen faucet. It's leaking from the sprayer and we've been told it's time for a new one. We've picked a nice one, matches the brushed stainless steel appliances and has a more traditional look which suits our house overall. However, it won't work well just sitting in the box it came in.
I'm not very experienced in these sort of house repairs; the fact of the matter is I've never changed a faucet before in my life. What's the saying, fools rush in where angels fear to tread? Do they have kitchen faucets in heaven? If so, do they ever need changing? Are there plumbing angels and do their pants fit properly? Wow, all sorts of interesting theological questions arise from simple house repairs. Who would have thought?
Back to the task at hand. If you've never done something before you can view it as a challenge, a problem or an adventure. A problem is negative and sets you up for defeat right from the get go. A challenge is adversarial and can quickly lead to frustration and language the plumbing angels probably don't use. An adventure speaks of new experiences, excitement, requires courage and bravery. So adventure it is. Plus, when you go on an adventure people want to go with you! So Claire, Addison and I are changing the faucet today.
I shut the water off (key first step!) and then quite easily disconnected the hot and cold water pipes from the taps. Loosening the collar nut that held the faucet in place was another matter entirely. I couldn't get a wrench in the cramped quarters and the whole threaded sleeve rotated when I tried banging it hammer-like. Addison came to the rescue. I jammed the wrench tight against the collar and he twisted the faucet from above. A moment of strength on the boy's part and the collar nut twisted freely. I'm quite proud of him, and myself for working with him - too often I get that wrong and it doesn't work out well for either of us.
With the old faucet out it was time for the new one to go in. It slipped in easily and it didn't bother me a bit that we were going from one central hole for the pipes to three, in fact four as the sprayer is on the side by itself. I taped up the connections and tightened the hot and cold water pipes.
The moment of truth had arrived and I turned on the water. No leaks! I turned on the tap and water sprayed out the bottom of the sprayer. It also came out the faucet where it should but that success was overshadowed by the sprayer malfunction. I turned everything off and contemplated the problem. Looking through the box I spotted a rubber ring and a rubber washer. Hmmm. Considering it unlikely they would put unnecessary seals in the box I disassembled the sprayer and low and behold, the home for the ring and washer was plainly evident. Reassembly took only moments. The water back on I tried the faucet again. Much better but still the sprayer dripped. I tighten things up and, third time being the charm, it worked properly.
I'm proud of myself for completing this adventure and for enjoying the trip too!

westward ho

The greenbelt runs along the Boise river for more than ten miles. It starts in the east at Lucky Peak dam and runs through downtown Boise and then on through Garden City. A paved biking/walking path lines one side or the other and, for much of the Boise Downtown section, both sides. I've been up and down both sides of the river downtown and some of the way to Lucky Peak. Okay, I've driven alongside the part that runs from downtown to Lucky Peak. Someday I'll ride my bike to Lucky Peak but not this year - I honestly can't see myself riding out there the next few weeks and with Fall arriving the weather will only hold for a few more weeks.
Tonight I tossed the dogs in the car and drove down to the greenbelt and walked west - toward Garden City. I haven't been down that end either. It's less developed or more properly, less redeveloped. There are empty, vacant lots and rundown light industrial facilities in parts but much of it is simply "open space" right up against the river. I saw a few people fly fishing. A family was enjoying skipping stones. We were passed by quite a few bikers. It seemed everyone wanted to get another trip on the greenbelt before it gets too cold.
Even now there are signs of Autumn all along the river. The locust trees are turning yellow already but they are the first to go each year. The wild grapes are turning bright blue on brilliant red stalks. Here and there oaks are turning red along with various creeping vines. The ducks and Canada Geese are flocking in preparation for their migrations. They fly low over the river and honk their lonesome calls to one another. I have a friend who doesn't like to see the leaves turn color because it means that winter is coming soon. It makes me a little sad to know they don't enjoy the moments, however brief, that make up Fall.

Hyde Park Street Fair

Hippies in Idaho? Believe it or not every fall a rag tag collection of flower children gather in Boise's North End neighborhood and put on a street fair. There are the obligatory booths selling crystals, tie-dye, peasant garments, spiritualism of every kind, and even free informational booths too. Planned Parenthood is there, along with the Regional Transit Department, Central Valley Health Organization and a few more. There's a children's play area complete with the ever more fantastical inflatable jump houses. They can't even be called jump houses anymore. There's a three story slide and a run down a lane with a bungee cord tied around you one which hardly fit the "jump house" category.
There are two stages for performing arts, and I use the term very loosely. Each year the local belly dancing class puts on a number. We're not talking fashion model waifs here - these women have hips to shake and quite of bit of belly with which to dance. I'm always impressed by how much they enjoy themselves up there on stage. They obviously are a great group of friends who know how to bring some happiness into their lives. Three cheers for the belly dancers - I'm learning how to add that kind of happiness to my own life. The other stage is for musicians and they come in all varieties: folk singers, punk rockers (at least I think that's what they were trying for), rockabilly, rappers and whatnot.
If you get bored of the shopping or the performances you can always sit on the grass and watch the people go by. For some reason the Hyde Park Street Fair brings out the hidden flower child in all Boiseans - especially if you are in high school and too young to have been there yourself.

my brand new cafe hat

Well, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Yes, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, you must tell me, baby
How your head feels under somethin' like that
Under your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat.
Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat - Bob Dylan

When you're bald, whether by preference or not, you have to wear a hat in the sun. The risk of skin cancer is too great these days to let vanity prevail and besides, there's nothing worse than running an electric razor over a sunburned head. Unless of course it's a disposable razor over sunburned legs. I'll have to ask my female friends about that one. At any rate, I have to wear a hat. Contrary to popular belief my head is rather small. In fact, the "one size fits all" baseball hats do not fit my head. I look rather foolish in them as they flop over my ears unless I cinch them tight in the back so they get all bunched up. At Art in the Park last week I spotted a new hat. It's called a "cafe hat". It reminds me of the old Chairman Mao Red Army campaign hats. This one has an artsy design with a bird in a circle of dots. Petty urban chic I think. Oh, and it was sold by the Boise Art Museum (BAM) so I'm supporting a good cause. My friend Tony from New York says it's ultra urban hip because BAM stands for the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Everyone in the know about New York City's art scene would give an arm and a leg for one of these babies.

western skies

Nothing compares to the beauty of a western sunset. The whole sky is painted red, yellow and orange. I love the Boise sunsets at this time of year especially as we often get a light covering of wispy clouds, perfect for catching the colors. You can't see the sunset from our house. The towering trees obscure three quarters of the sky - not that I'm complaining, I love the trees of our neighborhood. But if you want to see the sunset you have to walk the few blocks and climb the hill in Camelsback park.

art in the park

Each fall Boise hosts "Art in the Park". It kicks off a month or two of community arts and faires. The Hyde Park Street Fair will be next weekend. It's Boise's version of Bohemia, hippy, summer of love remembrance. Think flower children come grandparents selling crystals, Alpaca wool garments, massage, and homoeopathic cure alls. But that's next week's blog.
Art in the Park. Each fall Julia Davis Park is overrun with masses of tents crammed with ketch, crafts, jewelery, cottage industry clothing, and rarely but still represented: fine art. Bands play in the center of the park at the band shell, surrounded by drive up "lunch wagons" selling everything from gyros to corn dogs.
Hundreds of people mill around dragging or being dragged by at least that many dogs (how many Great Danes can there be in Boise? I'm sure I saw all of them enjoying the arts)!
We met our friends in front of the Boise Art Museum and wandered through the fair with four children in tow. We weren't exactly aimless as our friends had a couple of items to pick up that their children had outgrown the previous year. The children had ideas of their own, the littlest one had her heart set on shaved ice. "Ice Daddy, ice," was her response to each question addressed to her. Mostly we enjoyed the sun, the ketch, and the easy slow paced conversation with good friends as we wandered beneath the towering trees.
We strolled though the rose garden at the end of our day while the children played hide and seek. What is it about a garden that children love to run along the paths among the formal plantings? The sky was blue and the sun hot and we all left exhausted. We were grateful we hadn't ridden our bikes like so many environmentally conscious Boiseans as we would never have made it home, our own power long gone.