I started my second class today: EDSE 504 - Curriculum Inquiry. It's my last required class for my Master's degree; after this it's just my project and one last elective. I realize that the University has their reasons for requiring certain classes. 510 gets you started thinking about your research question and helps you learn to do academic research and write academic papers (APA, people, APA!!). 511 and 512 (depending on whether you're in a thesis or project based program) get you started on actually writing your final thesis/project. What I don't get are the curriculum courses. Or rather, why there are TWO of them that are required.
In my first curriculum course (503, the class from which I posted my final session notes here), we looked at the different ways in which people structure curriculum - kind of a "who's pulling the curricular strings and what's their agenda" coupled with a broad look at the different theoretical lenses through which people interpret curriculum. Sound riveting, right? Well, I didn't actively hate that class, but the only thing I remember from it is the idea of teachers helping students achieve transcendence - and only because that was the topic I chose for my final paper. Basically, teachers have a duty to their vocation to help students leave a class better than they were at the start. Reasonable, and didn't require me to compromise my own personal views to get a good grade, so I could handle it. But that's all I really remember from the class - that, and the distinct buzzing that would sound in my ears when people started talking about modernism, postmodernism, post-colonial perspectives, and psychoanalytical yadda yadda yadda.
I fear the same thing is happening already with this new class, and it scares me. It's only a three week course, three papers (one of which is half my grade), and a presentation. There are only 4 students in the class, and the other three women have just taken 503 this summer. My keen strategy of remaining mum on topics which I, quite frankly, have zero interest in, and making up any deficits the teacher may think I have through my strength in b.s.-ing papers, will not work. The prof. knows my name, dangit! And today, while there were some gems in his lecture that I could glom onto (hey, I know what the difference between modernism and post-modernism (or "pomo" for the cool kids) is!), there were also times when I caught myself thinking, "A lot of this sounds like complete and utter bullsh-tuff." Usually coupled with, "Who, outside of academia, cares?" There were also times when one of the other girls was commenting and throwing out names of famous academes, many of which our prof had cited in his papers we'd had to read for homework (before class even STARTED!), and I kept hearing Ben Stiller's voice in my head: "Don't be a kiss-ass". So mean, but it got to the point where every time this chick dropped another name, that was my first thought.
I didn't have this problem with my last class, but I realized that's because my last class was a.) in my particular research area, b.) taught by my supervising prof., and c.) focused on practical applications of digital technologies in the curriculum - moving from theory to actual use. It focused on HOW the technology should be used; everyone presented on software for classroom use, and put together a unit detailing how the technologies would be used to teach that unit. Actually, it was similar to what I am doing for my project...
(Okay, random sidebar: a storm front just blew in. And by blew in, I mean "The trees on the left side of my view started shaking before the trees on the right side as the storm moved overhead." Neato, but now I'm annoyed at the thunder.)
I'd kind of already figured this out, but today the point was driven home: I am not an academic. I doubt I ever will be. I just don't have the patience for it. I can't get enthused about discussing different theoretical lenses and the ways in which people interpret, well, anything. I. DON'T. CARE. Really, I just want to finish my project and get back to teaching. At this point, I'm not even picky about WHERE I teach, so long as I can be a teacher again.
Don't worry, Mum and Dad, this whole not-caring business isn't going to prevent me from doing everything I can to do well in class. I just get frustrated being forced to spend a lot of time participating in academic navel-gazing. I could be home reading a book.
UPDATE: So, I dropped the class. I will be postponing graduation until next April. It was a choice between total insanity with the distinct possiblity of a nervous breakdown (staying in the class), or mild insanity with a slight chance of jitters round about winter time (dropping it). I chose the latter. I have made my peace with it.
Monday 30 July 2012
Saturday 28 July 2012
Things I Could Do Without
I can't think of a good or funny intro to this post. The idea for it has been rolling around in my brain for a couple of weeks, but I couldn't muster up the energy to actually write about it since it really boils down to me complaining about things that have either been bugging me, or dumb things I did without pausing to think about the consequences. Anyway, here we go.
1. Thunderstorms. I'm over them. I haven't stopped to count how many thunderstorms we've had since I got back to Edmonton. The one that tried to flood my room was the first of many. I used to love thunderstorms; they gave me the shivers, like when you're reading the scary part of a book or watching a creepy movie, and you're scared but also slightly exhilarated because in the back of your mind you know that the book or movie isn't real so you enjoy being scared because it's just pretend-scared, not actually fearing-for-my-life-scared. Thunderstorms used to make me feel that way.
Now, I just want to smack the thunder and tell it to shut-up already.
I am a light sleeper; I sleep with a fan on to drown out noises that keep me awake: my own snoring, other people snoring, my own breathing, other people breathing, crickets, cars going by, birds (the window has to be closed for this one, otherwise they're too dang loud for the fan), and the weird mewing noise I make when I'm falling asleep laying on my back and start dreaming that I'm talking to someone and the dream talking causes me to attempt talking in my sleep but I'm not a sleep talker like Bec so it comes out as a mew. Anyways...
Thunder refuses to be drowned out by the fan, and my brain can't get used to it. It's too loud and inconsistent. About a week and a half ago a storm started, oh, right about the time I turned my light off for bed. And lasted the next two and a half hours. I couldn't relax because my body kept tensing for the inevitable crash every time I detected a flicker of lightning through my closed eyelids. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so annoying had it not been the night before I had to give a presentation/tutorial on Windows Movie Maker in class. Whatever joy I got from thunderstorms has since evaporated. Now I just get an annoyed feeling, kind of like - okay, you know how sometimes you think back on an unpleasant encounter with someone you dislike and years later you think of all the things you should have said but didn't at the time, so now every time you think about that encounter you get this angry, itchy, I-want-to-punch-someone feeling because you can't go back in time and say all the things you've thought of, and contacting that person to say them now isn't what rational adults do, and you're trying your hardest to be a rational adult even if you don't really like it because that's what society thinks you should be, so you don't contact them but every time you look back at that encounter you get that same feeling? That's me and thunderstorms.
2. Tumbleweed made of cat hair. Today I got one of my crazy cleaning urges. These come upon me every couple of months or so, and I know my mum loves it because I'll do things like clean the entire kitchen (even wiping down the counters) or the rec room. I think it's part boredom, part sporadic OCD/germaphobia that leads to these urges. Well, today I decided it would be a good idea to vacuum the carpets and sweep the floors.
You guys, I almost DIED.
The weather was nice and cool so I decided to open the doors and windows to let air move through the house. Sweeping in the basement wasn't too bad, although Gus decided to let me sweep the entire laundry room floor and dispose of the sprayed kitty litter before taking a dump and spraying more litter everywhere when he covered it up and hopped out. Brat. Then I did the middle floor, which was less fun, but still manageable, and the central vac sucker-up place in the kitchen floor was very helpful.
It was when I got to my room that everything went south. I had been sweeping with the broom, then vacuuming up the tumbleweeds and assorted debris with the hand vac. But I guess it's been a while since I swept or vacuumed under my desk, because there was a colony of dust bunny/tumbleweed hybrids living under it, and they took an exception to my eviction notice. I thought it would be okay. I got everything gathered in a nice little pile in the middle of the hallway, got on my hands and knees to use the hand vac, and then...a breeze blew through my open window, giving the bunnyweeds an opportunity to launch an air assault on my nose and mouth. Only my quick reflexes and the fact that my hand was already on the switch for the hand vac saved me from what would have been an untimely and gruesome demise at the hands of Lilycathairbunnyweeds.
3. Watching "Pitch Black" and other scary movies before bedtime. I should have learned from "Signs". I should have learned from years of watching "Supernatural". I should have learned from watching "Jurassic Park", and "Independence Day" and reading assorted R.L. Stein books back in the day (Fear Street, not Goosebumps). I don't do well with scary material right before bedtime. My imagination is a tiny bit hyperactive when it's dark and I've just watched or read something scary. The other night, "Pitch Black" and "The Chronicles of Riddick" were on AMC, so I DVR'd them to watch later. I have a grudging, almost unwilling attraction to Vin Diesel DON'T JUDGE ME!!
I decided the next evening that "Pitch Black" + nail painting = FUN TYMES!! And for the first little while it was. Vin Diesel's physique strikes a perfect balance between nicely muscled and grotesquely sculpted, which makes up for the deficiencies of his face and acting abilities (ooh, I'm such a meanie). The movie itself didn't scar me for life or anything, but the premise - creatures that are harmed by light, hunt in the dark, and aren't picky about what or whom they eat? Well, it's all entertainment watching people get munched until you're in your room...in the dark...and there are shadows you can't identify because you're nearly blind without your glasses or contact lenses, and your hyperactive imagination is constructing various scenarios in which you are gruesomely devoured by flying sightless beasties because you can't hide in their echolocation blind spot like Riddick because you're lying flat on your bed so they'll find you and eat you unless you can snap the light on quickly enough so you practice your speed light-turning-on abilities, then feel really stupid once the light is back on because, hello, it's a movie, and not even a very good one at that and you are a rational sometimes-adult so start acting like one and go to sleep!
Anyway, I probably shouldn't watch scary movies before bedtime anymore. "Chronicles of Riddick" last night didn't count, because it's not scary, not really, not when Karl Urban has a ridiculous mullet/braid/ponytail hairdo and chews the scenery like a dog that's failed obedience school chews shoes.
4. School. Particularly summer school. Please, family, friends, loved ones of all sorts, please don't ever let me go back for another degree. If I ever start talking about it, remind me of how much I hate school. Remind me of how painful it is to have to go to school every day, and do homework, and get graded on it. Remind me of how much I freak when I get a 6/8 on a blog post where three weeks' worth of posts count as only 10% of my grade. Remind me of how I dislike giving presentations to my classmates where they have the opportunity to grill me on how my activities promote higher-level cognitive strategies through the use of technology, so I stress about it for two weeks to the point where Cathie invites a middle-schooler over to give me her real-live-student feedback on what I have begun to suspect is a crazy person's idea of a good technology-based project. Because I've only been in school for three weeks - I've done one of my two summer courses - and I'm hoping I can squeeze out a little more effort for the next class, but right now I'm so done with school I'm afraid I'll totally slack on this next class.
Also, remind me of how much I dislike professors who e-mail homework assignments that needs to be completed BEFORE the first class session. That's cheating! We haven't even HAD class yet! You can't give me homework!
5. Eating McDonald's french fries right before bed. Too salty. Woke up ridiculously bloated. I could do without a repeat.
Okay, rant over.
1. Thunderstorms. I'm over them. I haven't stopped to count how many thunderstorms we've had since I got back to Edmonton. The one that tried to flood my room was the first of many. I used to love thunderstorms; they gave me the shivers, like when you're reading the scary part of a book or watching a creepy movie, and you're scared but also slightly exhilarated because in the back of your mind you know that the book or movie isn't real so you enjoy being scared because it's just pretend-scared, not actually fearing-for-my-life-scared. Thunderstorms used to make me feel that way.
Now, I just want to smack the thunder and tell it to shut-up already.
I am a light sleeper; I sleep with a fan on to drown out noises that keep me awake: my own snoring, other people snoring, my own breathing, other people breathing, crickets, cars going by, birds (the window has to be closed for this one, otherwise they're too dang loud for the fan), and the weird mewing noise I make when I'm falling asleep laying on my back and start dreaming that I'm talking to someone and the dream talking causes me to attempt talking in my sleep but I'm not a sleep talker like Bec so it comes out as a mew. Anyways...
Thunder refuses to be drowned out by the fan, and my brain can't get used to it. It's too loud and inconsistent. About a week and a half ago a storm started, oh, right about the time I turned my light off for bed. And lasted the next two and a half hours. I couldn't relax because my body kept tensing for the inevitable crash every time I detected a flicker of lightning through my closed eyelids. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so annoying had it not been the night before I had to give a presentation/tutorial on Windows Movie Maker in class. Whatever joy I got from thunderstorms has since evaporated. Now I just get an annoyed feeling, kind of like - okay, you know how sometimes you think back on an unpleasant encounter with someone you dislike and years later you think of all the things you should have said but didn't at the time, so now every time you think about that encounter you get this angry, itchy, I-want-to-punch-someone feeling because you can't go back in time and say all the things you've thought of, and contacting that person to say them now isn't what rational adults do, and you're trying your hardest to be a rational adult even if you don't really like it because that's what society thinks you should be, so you don't contact them but every time you look back at that encounter you get that same feeling? That's me and thunderstorms.
2. Tumbleweed made of cat hair. Today I got one of my crazy cleaning urges. These come upon me every couple of months or so, and I know my mum loves it because I'll do things like clean the entire kitchen (even wiping down the counters) or the rec room. I think it's part boredom, part sporadic OCD/germaphobia that leads to these urges. Well, today I decided it would be a good idea to vacuum the carpets and sweep the floors.
You guys, I almost DIED.
The weather was nice and cool so I decided to open the doors and windows to let air move through the house. Sweeping in the basement wasn't too bad, although Gus decided to let me sweep the entire laundry room floor and dispose of the sprayed kitty litter before taking a dump and spraying more litter everywhere when he covered it up and hopped out. Brat. Then I did the middle floor, which was less fun, but still manageable, and the central vac sucker-up place in the kitchen floor was very helpful.
It was when I got to my room that everything went south. I had been sweeping with the broom, then vacuuming up the tumbleweeds and assorted debris with the hand vac. But I guess it's been a while since I swept or vacuumed under my desk, because there was a colony of dust bunny/tumbleweed hybrids living under it, and they took an exception to my eviction notice. I thought it would be okay. I got everything gathered in a nice little pile in the middle of the hallway, got on my hands and knees to use the hand vac, and then...a breeze blew through my open window, giving the bunnyweeds an opportunity to launch an air assault on my nose and mouth. Only my quick reflexes and the fact that my hand was already on the switch for the hand vac saved me from what would have been an untimely and gruesome demise at the hands of Lilycathairbunnyweeds.
3. Watching "Pitch Black" and other scary movies before bedtime. I should have learned from "Signs". I should have learned from years of watching "Supernatural". I should have learned from watching "Jurassic Park", and "Independence Day" and reading assorted R.L. Stein books back in the day (Fear Street, not Goosebumps). I don't do well with scary material right before bedtime. My imagination is a tiny bit hyperactive when it's dark and I've just watched or read something scary. The other night, "Pitch Black" and "The Chronicles of Riddick" were on AMC, so I DVR'd them to watch later. I have a grudging, almost unwilling attraction to Vin Diesel DON'T JUDGE ME!!
I decided the next evening that "Pitch Black" + nail painting = FUN TYMES!! And for the first little while it was. Vin Diesel's physique strikes a perfect balance between nicely muscled and grotesquely sculpted, which makes up for the deficiencies of his face and acting abilities (ooh, I'm such a meanie). The movie itself didn't scar me for life or anything, but the premise - creatures that are harmed by light, hunt in the dark, and aren't picky about what or whom they eat? Well, it's all entertainment watching people get munched until you're in your room...in the dark...and there are shadows you can't identify because you're nearly blind without your glasses or contact lenses, and your hyperactive imagination is constructing various scenarios in which you are gruesomely devoured by flying sightless beasties because you can't hide in their echolocation blind spot like Riddick because you're lying flat on your bed so they'll find you and eat you unless you can snap the light on quickly enough so you practice your speed light-turning-on abilities, then feel really stupid once the light is back on because, hello, it's a movie, and not even a very good one at that and you are a rational sometimes-adult so start acting like one and go to sleep!
Anyway, I probably shouldn't watch scary movies before bedtime anymore. "Chronicles of Riddick" last night didn't count, because it's not scary, not really, not when Karl Urban has a ridiculous mullet/braid/ponytail hairdo and chews the scenery like a dog that's failed obedience school chews shoes.
4. School. Particularly summer school. Please, family, friends, loved ones of all sorts, please don't ever let me go back for another degree. If I ever start talking about it, remind me of how much I hate school. Remind me of how painful it is to have to go to school every day, and do homework, and get graded on it. Remind me of how much I freak when I get a 6/8 on a blog post where three weeks' worth of posts count as only 10% of my grade. Remind me of how I dislike giving presentations to my classmates where they have the opportunity to grill me on how my activities promote higher-level cognitive strategies through the use of technology, so I stress about it for two weeks to the point where Cathie invites a middle-schooler over to give me her real-live-student feedback on what I have begun to suspect is a crazy person's idea of a good technology-based project. Because I've only been in school for three weeks - I've done one of my two summer courses - and I'm hoping I can squeeze out a little more effort for the next class, but right now I'm so done with school I'm afraid I'll totally slack on this next class.
Also, remind me of how much I dislike professors who e-mail homework assignments that needs to be completed BEFORE the first class session. That's cheating! We haven't even HAD class yet! You can't give me homework!
5. Eating McDonald's french fries right before bed. Too salty. Woke up ridiculously bloated. I could do without a repeat.
Okay, rant over.
Thursday 12 July 2012
A Ripsnortin' Welcome Back
I have returned to the Great White North. Except right now it would be better labelled the Great Green North. I guess this much beautiful foliage is the payoff for ridiculous winters, eh? My return trip wasn't quite as adventure filled as last time (no fires blocking the highway, accidents, etc.) although I did have an A-MA-ZING Fourth of July. My dear sweet mother bought tickets to Stadium of Fire, so we went with JD and Megan to see the Beach Boys and a fireworks show partially dedicated to celebrating the 50th anniversary of James Bond. Yeah, it was as cool as you think.
Anyways, my return has been relatively uneventful, with the exception of a head cold which developed the day before classes started. But even that's going away now, so no big.
No, the major event that Edmonton threw to welcome me back to the north countries was, in true Canadian form, weather related.
Now, it's not like I've never experienced a thunderstorm before. We don't get a TON of them in Moreno Valley (although apparently a lot more since I've left), and the ones we do get aren't as loud and powerful as they get in, say, Texas (although we did get those tornadoes that one time). They knock the power out, sure, but our power goes out in a high wind, the box is so old, so that may be more wussy-power box related than the strength of the storm.
I've also experienced the "monsoon season" during the summer in Arizona, where a high wind storm kick starts the evening before the thunderstorm begins. I'm still not sure what Jonny and I were thinking, continuing to shoot in the archery range after the power went out. At least we had the sense to call out when one of us went down range to retrieve the arrows.
But last night...oy, last night.
Mum was up here, so I was sleeping on the couch in the basement. Since the cats are used to having their litter box down in the basement (we moved it while I was down there), I kept the door closed. I am not one of those cat owners who allows 24/7 access for my friendly felines. Boundaries, people, boundaries. I also sleep with a fan on every night - I need the white noise to fall asleep.
So imagine my surprise when I awoke early this AM to what sounded at first like...applause? I was dreaming, but I think it had to do with zombies (thanks, Walking Dead black and white series premier!), so...who's applauding? As I became fully conscious, the sound sharpened to water falling. A lot of water falling. My first thought was that a pipe had burst in the basement by the washing machine, and any second I would feel the rush of water move through the room. I got up to check - no water in the basement, but I was definitely hearing pouring water. My next thought was that someone was running the shower upstairs and had the door open, but I checked the time (3:33 - really) and that seemed highly unlikely. So I went upstairs to check.
And walked into a dance club. At least that was my first thought. (I was still a little sleepy, okay?) Then I realized that the strobing effect was due to the lightning flashes outside. Really, I almost wanted to start blasting "Evacuate the Dancefloor" or some other club-worthy song. Once I realized that there was a serious storm happening, and that the noise I was hearing WAS water falling - a LOT of water falling - my brain gradually worked out that the volume wasn't solely due to the amount of rain happening, but also because the windows were open. All over the house.
A quick check of the (south facing) kitchen windows revealed that very little water was coming in - just a little mist, but I closed them anyway. The living room windows (north facing) were a different story - things were definitely getting wet, so those were closed as well. I almost went back down stairs, but was stopped by two thoughts:
1. I should totally get my camera and take some video of this ridiculous storm (it had started hailing by that point) - crap, it's in my room (where Mum was sleeping), and
2. I wonder if Mum and Cathie have realized it's pouring out, and if they've closed the windows.
I went upstairs and saw Cathie looking out her window, so I didn't bother pointing out the obvious. Mum looked like she was asleep, and I tried very hard not to startle her awake (she sleeps with earplugs) - I failed. I explained I was just checking the window, and sure enough, the water was coming in and misting everything on the desk...including my lappy (aah!).
Thankfully, there wasn't enough water to do damage. I wiped my stuff off, said goodnight to Mum, and walked back toward the door...and into a...puddle? On my floor? NOT by the window?
Turns out the reason the water didn't get all over my desk and lappy was because there is a slight tilt to my windowsill. The water collected on the sill, then ran down the wall to the side of my desk and across the floor. Yup. I had a waterfall in my bedroom last night, and a river running through my room. I wanted to take pictures, but I was too worried about my stuff.
This is another time when I'm grateful Heavenly Father is watching out for me, because while it was annoying to have to wipe up the water, nothing was damaged. It went straight down the wall by the desk, under my plastic storage bins (which were easy to wipe), and straight across the floor - missing the power strip with multiple electronics plugged into it by less than two inches.
After cleaning up the minor flood, we joined Cathie in her room to watch the death of her beautiful garden - the hail was going all Red Queen "Off with their heads" to the flowers. It was very tragic - much flora lost its life last night. I did get a couple of pictures, once the hail had calmed down - but for some reason the resolution on them sucks, so I apologize for the blurriness.
Anyways, my return has been relatively uneventful, with the exception of a head cold which developed the day before classes started. But even that's going away now, so no big.
No, the major event that Edmonton threw to welcome me back to the north countries was, in true Canadian form, weather related.
Now, it's not like I've never experienced a thunderstorm before. We don't get a TON of them in Moreno Valley (although apparently a lot more since I've left), and the ones we do get aren't as loud and powerful as they get in, say, Texas (although we did get those tornadoes that one time). They knock the power out, sure, but our power goes out in a high wind, the box is so old, so that may be more wussy-power box related than the strength of the storm.
I've also experienced the "monsoon season" during the summer in Arizona, where a high wind storm kick starts the evening before the thunderstorm begins. I'm still not sure what Jonny and I were thinking, continuing to shoot in the archery range after the power went out. At least we had the sense to call out when one of us went down range to retrieve the arrows.
But last night...oy, last night.
Mum was up here, so I was sleeping on the couch in the basement. Since the cats are used to having their litter box down in the basement (we moved it while I was down there), I kept the door closed. I am not one of those cat owners who allows 24/7 access for my friendly felines. Boundaries, people, boundaries. I also sleep with a fan on every night - I need the white noise to fall asleep.
So imagine my surprise when I awoke early this AM to what sounded at first like...applause? I was dreaming, but I think it had to do with zombies (thanks, Walking Dead black and white series premier!), so...who's applauding? As I became fully conscious, the sound sharpened to water falling. A lot of water falling. My first thought was that a pipe had burst in the basement by the washing machine, and any second I would feel the rush of water move through the room. I got up to check - no water in the basement, but I was definitely hearing pouring water. My next thought was that someone was running the shower upstairs and had the door open, but I checked the time (3:33 - really) and that seemed highly unlikely. So I went upstairs to check.
And walked into a dance club. At least that was my first thought. (I was still a little sleepy, okay?) Then I realized that the strobing effect was due to the lightning flashes outside. Really, I almost wanted to start blasting "Evacuate the Dancefloor" or some other club-worthy song. Once I realized that there was a serious storm happening, and that the noise I was hearing WAS water falling - a LOT of water falling - my brain gradually worked out that the volume wasn't solely due to the amount of rain happening, but also because the windows were open. All over the house.
A quick check of the (south facing) kitchen windows revealed that very little water was coming in - just a little mist, but I closed them anyway. The living room windows (north facing) were a different story - things were definitely getting wet, so those were closed as well. I almost went back down stairs, but was stopped by two thoughts:
1. I should totally get my camera and take some video of this ridiculous storm (it had started hailing by that point) - crap, it's in my room (where Mum was sleeping), and
2. I wonder if Mum and Cathie have realized it's pouring out, and if they've closed the windows.
I went upstairs and saw Cathie looking out her window, so I didn't bother pointing out the obvious. Mum looked like she was asleep, and I tried very hard not to startle her awake (she sleeps with earplugs) - I failed. I explained I was just checking the window, and sure enough, the water was coming in and misting everything on the desk...including my lappy (aah!).
Thankfully, there wasn't enough water to do damage. I wiped my stuff off, said goodnight to Mum, and walked back toward the door...and into a...puddle? On my floor? NOT by the window?
Turns out the reason the water didn't get all over my desk and lappy was because there is a slight tilt to my windowsill. The water collected on the sill, then ran down the wall to the side of my desk and across the floor. Yup. I had a waterfall in my bedroom last night, and a river running through my room. I wanted to take pictures, but I was too worried about my stuff.
This is another time when I'm grateful Heavenly Father is watching out for me, because while it was annoying to have to wipe up the water, nothing was damaged. It went straight down the wall by the desk, under my plastic storage bins (which were easy to wipe), and straight across the floor - missing the power strip with multiple electronics plugged into it by less than two inches.
After cleaning up the minor flood, we joined Cathie in her room to watch the death of her beautiful garden - the hail was going all Red Queen "Off with their heads" to the flowers. It was very tragic - much flora lost its life last night. I did get a couple of pictures, once the hail had calmed down - but for some reason the resolution on them sucks, so I apologize for the blurriness.
Oh, hail.
Um, weather? It's not winter! Stop it with all the white!
I was just looking at the weather forecast...seems we are due for more thunderstorms. They're all the rage this summer, from what I read on Facebook. Stay safe, friends!
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