Guest Blog by Michael Vann

I am very pleased to be a guest blogger. When you first see the no W symbol your first thought may be no George W. Bush. That is not the gist of this article. What we are working with today is to reduce the English alphabet to a good round number like 5 squared. I will tell you some of my background involving this issue.

When I was a young lad in the first grade I was struggling with my teacher on a number of topics. One such issue was the alphabet. When I got to reciting the last part of the alphabet, T U V W X Y Z, my response was always “tee u vee double vee x y z”. My teacher would say, " No, no it is double u."  I would look at the alphabet and it surely looked like a double v to me. My reply would be,  "This is my final answer," since she would not let me call a friend for the correct answer. This resulted in my spending an extra year in the first grade.

Lo and behold, same thing happened for the next two years. Finally, the schools learned about social promotion and I exited my first grade encounter. To this day, when people ask me who was my first grade teacher, my reply, "Which one? I had three."   This started my public school challenge. When I was in high school, having reached the age of 22, allowing me legally to go drinking with my teachers, they finally said I should abandon my pursuit of a higher education and get a job roughnecking on an oil rig.  (So funny my girlfriend would not even agree to normal necking, more less on an oil rig).  To this day I still say the only thing that kept me out of college was high school.

An example of a sentence using u u instead of W (by the way is double u according to my teachers) is:

UUednesday, uuild UUee UUilly uueasel uuas uuriting uuonderful uuiggly uuords uuhich uuere uueird, uuhen uuishing uuise uuitch UUanda UUhite uuould uuelcome uuise uuhiplash UUally uuabbit (sic) uuith uuet uuater uuith uuhich uuould uuake uuhole uuorld uuide uueb.

Barbara's Note:  I had NO part in writing this!

Happy birthday, Canon!!!!!

We ended our family wedding weekend with a visit to the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History to see the From Turner to Cezanne exhibition and it really was quite lovely.  It is composed of a sample from the Davies Sisters Collection at the National Museum Wales.  It includes work by Manet, Monet, and Van Gogh,  Pissarro and Renoir.  I especially liked the meticulous, detailed watercolor work of Turner.  No picture of this small paintings can do them justice-the tiny strokes, the use of pencil, the layered color.

I've seen works by these artists in other museums, but this small collection was especially nice to see in Albuquerque.  How about these recognizable styles?

What is remarkable to me is the story of the Davies sisters who compiled this art collection mostly during the nineteen centeruy.  What a wonderful legacy, to be able to purchase these works of art and leave them for others to enjoy.  These women were community oriented, putting their collecting on hold during World War I to do their part to help.  I'm fascinated by these women.  The video about them was as interesting as the paintings!

Bad Boy!!!

An internet friend published a blog today titled "Hare Core Chewing"  with pictures of her dogs chewing on bones.  I thought she was talking about Canon, who today tore apart my sister's $200 sandal, chewed on the toe of my brother-in-law's dress shoe, and scattered a bad of Goldfish around the living room (mostly uneater).

Enough said.  Canon may get neutered for his birthday after all!

Neverending Story...

I checked previous blog entries before beginning to write this, not wanting to duplicate.  That in itself would be appropriate, for my story is of pulling weeds...again...and again...and again.

I'd put off pulling the majority of weeds in our front yard (we won't even discuss the back!).  It was too hot, or too dry, or I was too tired, or my back hurt.  My excuses were also neverending.  The looks of the yard even embarrassed me-- obviously not enough, though.  Michael kept saying he'd put week killer on the section near the street, and actually did once, but it didn't put a dent in the unwelcome little green visitors.  So, for the past two evenings I've been out pulling weeds from between the rocks and our "weed protection" layer.  Last night when I went in at dusk, I thought I was almost done-- could only see a few of the tall weedss.  There were just as many waiting for me this evening.  Did you ever notice when you see one and go to pull it, suddenly there are other little suckers around it?  You clean an area and walk by it the next morning and there are more?  I am not fond of the green invaders.  Aliens would be more welcome--especially if they eat weeds!

Warm Fuzzy Feelings

I've often envied my sister and siter-in-law, who have made so many friends in the process of raising their children.  They have a comeraderie based on common experiences.  One of the things that makes me feel good is that I do have that comeraderie from different experiences.  Today, after a poodle birthday party for Canon, Roxy, and Mr. B, I took time to appreciate that.

During my teaching career of 34 years, most of my friends have come from the people I work with.   Then, there's my book group, started by a couple of women who were parents of my students. We have come to share more than the stories of others.

My dogs have led me to other friends-- poodle groups, of course, made on the Internet and in real life.  People I have never met face to face have supported me and given me advice.  Through the Standard Poodle Yahoo group, I met Karen, who's the breeder of my Canon, who in turn, led me to my friends, Nancy and Jeremy, who belong to Roxy and Jasper.  Canon (and Nancy) led me to obedience and agility classes, and the Poodle club.

Rondo led me to the Bone Cancer Dogs group.  With these people I share a common, if tragic experience, but one that has led me to grow more than I thought possible at this age. 

I talk about dogs, mostly, books, people.  We make bonds with people with whom we share commonalities.  I have that, too. 

Grief and Anger

Another positive title, huh?

I'm disturbed that Caprice's orbital cellulitis is something that has to be approached through surgery.  I've been troubled lately by the dogs who have had to be released.  I'm worried about my friend, Julie, who is undergoing radiation now for her breast cancer, and my friend Carol's husband who has so many problems right now.  I am angered by THE oil spill, a sink hole in Guatemala, lives lost needlessly every day.

I sit at my computer and cry.  Thinking of some training twenty or so years back, I think of Kubler-Ross's stages of grieving and google it.  Grief NOW has 7 stages!  Why is grief even more intricate now?  When I look at the stages, what has been added is more resolution, working through the grief.  I return to anger- the way the world and my world seem to be crumbling.  Or maybe the drepression, loneliness stage.

This is life.  Mostly we live with it.  We show denial, guilt, anger, loneliness, and perhaps, most of all acceptance.  There is so little we can change.  Are we helpless?  I honestly don't know.  And here I am, back to anger, and lacking clarity and comphrehensibility, above all.