An Autumn Sunday in Flint

Autumn is finally upon us! Which means that Frederick's and my weekend-ly walk from our house to my office, which takes us across various parts of the campus of Mott Community College and past the College Cultural Center (which includes the Flint Institutes of Art [where Jami has learned pottery, weaving, mosaicking et. al.] and Music [where Thomas has learned percussion, piano and bassoon] and one of the only planetariums [planetaria?] in the state) will be at its most pleasant. Particularly as it has stopped bucketing with rain.

Companion on our trip this week was Frederick's new froggy pal.


Here he hops happily along the edges of one of the parking garages of Mott Community College.

Here's the old Central High School, closed last year. That big chimney used to be part of a welding lab, but that was closed long ago.

From the top of the other MCC parking garage you can see the FIA and planetarium.

It seems that every other week in Flint we have a classic car show of some sort. I had no idea this would be happening - they must advertise them on The Fogey Channel on television or something.

Neither is true of Frederick, actually. But we love him just the same.

Would You Deny Him an Education?

I have been seeing my doctor every Tuesday evening since June 1st for weight loss business (more about that some other time) and every week she asks how things are going and, among other things, takes my blood pressure. After the first week of school, she remarked that my blood pressure had gone up noticeably from what it was during the summer. This past week she said, as she got out the cuff, "This week MUST have been better." Well, it wasn't, and neither was my blood pressure. (The arteries don't lie--this was a shitty week.) This past Friday Simon and I started the day with a meeting with Frederick's teacher, the school principal and Emily. (When we asked where Frederick would be during all this and, more importantly, who would be with him, they said, "Oh. We hadn't thought of that." Thank God for Thomas.) The meeting was allegedly a chance for us to meet and discuss "how things were going for Frederick," as well as to pass around suggestions. Frederick's teacher's only suggestion was that, since she wasn't certain what level he was with math, it made sense to her to have him go home when they get to the math part of the day (which is at 1:00). Or, perhaps, having him go home right after lunch might be EVEN BETTER since sometimes he didn't seem to "get much" out of gym class, either. (This is in reference to one day when the gym teacher organized a kick ball game with all kids aged 4 through 10.) I asked if the other small kids in his class "got much" out of that gym class. She admitted that they probably did not. But were they expected to simply leave? Was that a sign that they were uneducatable? No, of course not.

Given that we have NO OPTIONS for Frederick, this is what we must work with. Emily, Simon and I discussed everything at length after school when Frederick happily came home to lark about the house and yard. We've all decided that the only sensible way to deal with this is for Emily to take in to school all the curriculum materials she and Frederick have been working with all summer and then merge with the classmates for art, French, music, snack time, lunch and recess outside. As for academics, it seems that Frederick and Emily are on their own. Here Frederick enjoys a bowl of strawberries while lying in his parents' bed on a not-so-sunny (Sunday) afternoon. He's happy to be home.

Didn't There Used to be an Air Conditioner There?

Yesterday it was pouring with rain. I was sitting in the living room (relaxing--that decision to indulge in a few minutes of selfishness is probably what set this train of events into motion) when I heard a heavy splat of water hit the living room window screen that faces out onto our driveway. This not unusual noise is typically caused by water gushing from the window air conditioner unit in Frederick's room when Simon empties it so that it will run more quietly. But Simon was not at home--so what could have caused it? Seconds later, I saw the air conditioner that WAS in Frederick's window fly down past the living room window and then, a scant second later, heard a distinctive "thunk." I jumped up to look out the water-spattered window and, yes indeed, there was now a very smashed air conditioner scattered across our driveway. I ran upstairs and there was Frederick standing in his room, looking very sheepish, with no air conditioner in his window (though the window was very neatly closed). Here is his window, sans air conditioner:Because the nights have been cooler I had mentioned earlier that day that we could remove the unit from Thomas' bedroom window and put it into storage--Thomas likes his room much warmer than Frederick does and hasn't had the air conditioner in his room on at night in about a month. But Frederick sleeps better if his room is icy, and we don't typically remove his unit until well into October--did he overhear our conversation about Thomas' air conditioner and take matters into his own hands? We'll never know.

Dennis the Menace socks

Strange red bugs

Frederick and I sauntered over to For-Mar this afternoon...


...and the red bugs were swarming:


A closer look:

Getting wood

Yes, it's that time of the year again. Actually, it isn't. We haven't turned the heating on at all yet, and it's a beautiful balmy late-summer-ish day. But this time we were actually ahead of the game and ordered wood. Seven whole cords of it! And no, I still don't know what a cord is, so all this time these people could be totally ripping me off. Here's the first half (they came in two loads of three-and-a-half cords):

Here's me working through the second load of three and a half cords (they couldn't back the truck all the way up the drive):

And here's the finished storehouse of warmth, stacked two deep:


Bring it on, Winter!

First Week of School

The weekend before school started, Simon and I got a phone call from the principal of Valley School. She said that, although we had discussed sending Frederick there extensively with the teacher Frederick would have, enrolled him, paid the tuition and filled out all the emergency/medical/shot record information on him sometime in June, the teacher was suddenly feeling "blindsided" by the decision. After much hemming and hawing (and more phone calls than one would think possible on a holiday weekend), we were told that his "specials" (the teachers of the elective classes such as art, French, music and so on) were not told anything and "weren't sure" they wanted him in their class--"was he," they worried, "prone to outbursts?" Would he violently assault the other children? So, here we are, going to school on the first day, wondering if it would be Frederick's last day. And, if so, where the hell was he going to go to school for the rest of the year? (Perhaps a "Where the Wild Things Are" t-shirt wasn't the savviest choice, but he did dress himself and we don't overrule his choices in those matters.)
Down, down, down...
Well, he's got a cubby. Does that mean he's welcome or not?
Emily showed up seconds after we got there and Frederick was very happy. She stayed with him and helped him manage the new rooms, rules and way of doing things. At 10, the teacher told Emily that "Frederick's parents" wanted Frederick to leave, but Emily simply replied that, no, Frederick would stay at least until lunch. And they did. He got long wonderfully with all his "specials" teachers and, despite whatever misgivings his teacher had, he seems to have won her over. On Friday, when Simon dropped Frederick off, she announced that "it was decided"--Frederick gets to stay the whole day! Hmm.

Why I can't I have something nice?

The other day, I'd parked my nice new (well, 2008 - but new to me) Toyota Prius in a student parking lot that happened to be equidistant from my office and the rec. center (where I was going to swim), and after visiting both, returned to my car (obviously in somewhat of a daze) and was just starting it up when I saw an old envelope tucked under the wiper. It read as follows:


With a sinking feeling, I got out and looked all round my car. Here is what I saw:


Sigh. I did phone "Jennifer" and she was just as apologetic on the phone as in the note (she backed into me in her giant Chevy Suburban, which, apparently, is hardly scratched) and more importantly, she has insurance. I have an appointment to get it fixed in a couple of weeks. But the bloom is off the rose...

This is Thomas

So, school started for all of us this Tuesday (more on that when we have strength) and one of Thomas's first assignments was to collect a bag of six things that captured his essence. And this is what he came up with. The bassoon reed is obvious, as is the Vegetarian Times. The panda is because of his regard for the World Wildlife Fund, and the cartridge, which, some readers might not be aware, is for an ancient video game system, represents his interest in Retro Gaming. And, of course, the video camera is the source of all of the documentation of Yoshi's adventures. That's only five, but Thomas also counts the bag, because it's recycled, representing his regard for environmentalism.

Yoshi's latest adventures