A Hot, Steaming Mug Of Tea
I had the air conditioning on up until recently, and what I need today is a nice hot, steaming mug of tea. Well, I said that autumn was Mother Nature’s warning track for the onset of winter, and we are now onto that dirt-filled warning track.
Pardon me for a moment while I heat some water. Really. I’m going to stop here and get implements of tea. . .
. . .Ok; I’m back. While waiting for the water to boil, I started a load of clothes, visited The Smallest Room In The House, made the tea and here I am, Mr. Efficiency. I should be Mr. Neat Room, but all things come in due time.
My grammar school (1947-56, if you MUST know), sent me their newsletter. Among other things, they’d like to know who the kindergarten teacher was in the school’s earliest days. I can remember a nun I didn’t have, but who was as tall as a cowboy; we called her “Tex.” St. Joseph Monica, our beloved “Harmonica,” but I can’t remember this gal’s name. She was a lay person, one of only two I had; nice, nothing like the other one, a real witch. The nuns were great, all of them.
I wonder how many Catholic grammar schools that were around in 1945 are still in existence today? And I don’t mean “merged,” a nice term for “closed, but let’s not use that term.” Mine outgrew its original building, as planned, but is still there, still full of students and just as lively as ever.
Pardon me for a moment while I heat some water. Really. I’m going to stop here and get implements of tea. . .
. . .Ok; I’m back. While waiting for the water to boil, I started a load of clothes, visited The Smallest Room In The House, made the tea and here I am, Mr. Efficiency. I should be Mr. Neat Room, but all things come in due time.
My grammar school (1947-56, if you MUST know), sent me their newsletter. Among other things, they’d like to know who the kindergarten teacher was in the school’s earliest days. I can remember a nun I didn’t have, but who was as tall as a cowboy; we called her “Tex.” St. Joseph Monica, our beloved “Harmonica,” but I can’t remember this gal’s name. She was a lay person, one of only two I had; nice, nothing like the other one, a real witch. The nuns were great, all of them.
I wonder how many Catholic grammar schools that were around in 1945 are still in existence today? And I don’t mean “merged,” a nice term for “closed, but let’s not use that term.” Mine outgrew its original building, as planned, but is still there, still full of students and just as lively as ever.
posted by Tom Carten at 2:58 PM
1 Comments:
I don't know if mine was there in the 40's as I moved to that neighborhood in Fall, 1954. Probably, though, as it wasn't a new building, even then.
It's still going strong. Oh, not as strong as when I attended---we had 2 each of grades 1-9 then, with as many as 64 kids in one classroom!
But it's still in the business of dragging kids up, kicking and screaming, to responsible adulthood.
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