Corn Hole Anyone?

First impressions of Cincinnati.

I now am very well acquainted with our house, having covered every inch of it, including the ceilings with new paint, and re-acquainted with all our possessions, having moved them all many times from box to room to other room to out-of-the-way-so-I-can-paint.

Today I started on the only remaining surfaces by tearing up carpet.

Sometimes I stop moving or painting and leave the house. For example, delivering resumes to people who don’t have job openings. Here’s what I have found.

The founders of West Chester liked cars and roads, but had not been exposed to the concept of sidewalks. There are no sidewalks and few roads have a shoulder. There are a lot of people who live here, therefore a lot of cars. Non automobile travelers (runners and bikers) have to keep their eyes open.

Most of the roads are windy and most of them don’t go anywhere. There are more dead-ends here than a career in the mortgage industry. You can count all the roads in town that go anywhere on your fingers. Google map it and you’ll see.

My first day here I noticed an old, brightly-painted, yellow building. There were various signs on it, labeling it as a drive-through store where you can buy alcohol, snacks, and “Corn Hole Accs.” Right. Corn Hole??? Yesterday I stopped in. It turns out these stores are common out here. People call them a “Brew Thru.” They are, in fact, a drive through convenience store. You drive in and tell the guy what you want (everything from Bud Light to potato chips) and wait in the car while he fetches it.

And Corn Hole? This turns out to be a game. Basically you throw bean bags at a board with a hole in it. Corn Hole Accs (accessories) turn out to be the bean bags.

Brew Thrus and Corn Hole are very popular, sidewalks failed to make the list.

That’s it for tonight.

Still

In retrospect, I didn’t really mean “Happy,” rather, contented or at peace. I’m at peace. (two days…)

Who Knew

I decided to be happy. That was about 10:30 this morning. We’ll see how long it lasts.

One time, after a teacher in-service about being positive, I tried to go an entire day without being critical or negative. I didn’t succeed. Neither did I on the next 30 days, or any single day of the entire school year. However, the concept stuck with me and maybe I moved a little bit in the right direction.

It’s 1:30 and I’m still happy.

I had a job interview yesterday at an arts school in Hamilton. The kids were great, and the facility is very nice. I don’t think I got it. The phone has been silent.

I’ve been trying to reclaim my unwavering faith in God, the kind I felt in my 30’s. In my youth I thought as I grew older it would be easier to believe. As it turns out, for me at least, the opposite is true. I thought the compilation of experiences with God would accumulate, like a hunks of coal in the furnace, each one a chunk of proof, and those experiences would radiate faith throughout my inner being. I thought by now the flame of faith would be so hot I could cruise into old age without doubt, fear, or uncertainty.

My actual experience is sort of like the story of manna. You know, God gave the people bread for the day, no more. Each day, when I wake up, there is a fresh decision to be made – walk with God or without. And while all the reasons I have to believe, gathered over years (now decades) of walking with God have piled up, so have the doubts, contrary evidence, and self will. In short, as I get older I carry more reasons to believe and more reasons not to. The choice remains the same, but the load is heavier.

It is becoming clear that seeking the kind of faith I had in my 30’s is like trying to teach like I did in my 30’s - impossible because I have changed. Life has changed. Faith (at least for me) gets harder instead of easier. Who knew?

OK, so there it is. In this blog I am nothing if not transparent. I, the Tim, have wimpy, moment-by-moment faith. But, in self defense, I will point out that I am in good company. Check out the Elijah of I Kings 18 and the Elijah of I Kings 19, or perhaps the Peter who watched Jesus heal the sick, raise the dead, calm the seas, and the Peter in Caiphas’ garden (or even Peter walking on the water and then drowning in it), or Thomas.

Understanding the situation will help me deal with it.

By the way, I’m still happy – (2:30PM.)

Back to square one

I’m back from Central America. During those 19 days I experienced some of the best days of my life and some of the worst. I am in the process of transcribing my journal which I will post here soon along with some pictures. Let me give you the setup as of the day I left the country.

The week I left was the last week of school. So I had to say good-bye to my students and friends at Reed Elementary, and also get checked out and moved out. Wednesday and Thursday the movers came to our house and moved our stuff to Cincinnati. Katy was home overseeing the movers and preparing for Guatemala. Thursday was the last day of School and we left the country Friday.

The week previously I had been offered a job 4 miles from our new house in Cincinnati. It looked perfect.

I could imagine my nice new life up north as Katy and I flew south. I would get footage of Guatemalan and Mexican music, buy traditional authentic instruments and costumes, and spend the rest of the summer working towards my goal of showing my new students (in person) and others (through video) about music and people around the world.

During my time out of the country my back pack was stolen with all my camera equipment and passport. No more video. A few days later I cut my Achilles and had to get 6 stitches and just sit in a chair for two days. No more trips, no going anywhere, no running for 10 days.

The night I arrived in Ohio I called my new principal and he said another music teacher in the district had chosen to transfer in, and so there was no job for me.

So I spent the last two days unpacking boxes and moving furniture up and down stairs, trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my legs are cut off from under me, and the future is blank. I don’t know how to move forward or where I’m going.

My new friends in Guatemala told me to be patient, to wait for God. I think He is trying to teach me something – maybe dependence on Him. Anyway sitting here, surrounded by mounds of stuff to put away, looking out the window at the daily rain clouds, dreams and goals that seem impossible to pursue, no friends, no job – I think this is about as low as I have been in a long, long time.

But I do have God, and I have Susan, and I have hope. I’m writing these words to mark this day not to complain about my life, but as a benchmark from which to measure what God is going to do from here. I am trying to take steps forward (even though I don’t know what direction forward is) towards a new life in Cincinnati with God.

JOURNAL FROM GUATEMALA

Today we arrived in Chiriyuju. This area is absolutely beautiful. There are mountains, and small, manicured fields of vegetables everywhere. Everything is very green, and there are all kinds of trees.

Angela’s house is on the old Pan American highway, witch turns out to be a one lane dirt road filled with potholes.

We were met by Mauro’s family, and the mayor and two other city officials. Before long the pastor arrived with four or five elders of the church. Then the school principal joined us and the president of the education association, and a teacher. Throughout the morning more family members showed up.

At one point they moved all the chairs and spread long, fragrant pine needles all over the porch and on the floor of Katy and my rooms. It is a tradition of welcoming honored guests. I have never experienced anything like it. As I write my room is filled with the fragrance of pine.

We ate a feast of vegetables, tortillas, and grilled beef. There was some delicious chili salsa, which I spread all over my food. I don’t think they normally eat so much of it, and I caused quite a stir. It seems as though I will be remember in this village a “The chili guy.”

After much talking we went to a meeting of the local coop, the mayor, the city improvement council, and leaders from the school association. The topic was Katy teaching the younger students on Fridays.

It was sort of like a committee meeting except everyone was nice. They have made a really big deal of welcoming Katy to teach here and dream of a day when their children can speak English and reap the benefits thereof.

They expressed their support, and recommended each child pay a small fee – because if you give something away they will take it for granted. People are the same everywhere.

Then we decided to drive to Chimaltenango for chicken and French fries. For families riding in a compact pick-up, most of us in the back. It is the rainy season here. Therefore we pickup-bed-riders, laying all over each other, held a blue plastic tarp overhead for the 30 minute ride home. I think some part of my shoulders and chest stayed dry.

At this point I feel very welcome (having shared food, laughter, committee meetings, and a blue-tarped baptism) and in some weird way a part of the family – even though I was only here one day, can’t speak Spanish, am taller than 5’3”, and eat chili salsa by the spoonful.

SUNDAY
Today is Sunday. I started the day by running down the old Pan American Highway. The Old Pan American Highway turns out to be a narrow, pot hole filled, winding dirt road. It runs right in front of the house I’m living in. It rains every day here, so I picked my way along, dodging mud puddles. I was warmly greeted by people on bikes, on foot, standing by the road, young and old. All were clearly curious. Some applauded. I met a few colorful buses, and some opinionated dogs.

I couldn’t help but compare running on this old, famous road to the Boston Marathon. Like Boston I wondered who passed that way over the years. Like Boston the people were friendly and encouraging. Unlike Boston, the road was narrow, meandering, and the scenery stunning. You’ll have to see the pictures.

The remainder of the morning was spent rehearsing songs to sing in church, hanging with the family, adding words to my “dictionary,” and practicing Spanish.

Church was very intense and passionate. It was my first experience with “Ranchero” Worship Music. On the trip home I shared the pick-up bed (did I mention it is the rainy season?) with three boys from the family, Katy’s guitar, and 5 or 6 other people from another family. Picture a mother in traditional dress standing (yes standing in the wet pick-up bed) with an infant in a blanket on her back, holding an umbrella over her four daughters sitting on a row behind the cab. The oldest daughter steadied her mom by holding her by the skirt.

We spent the evening in the kitchen talking, planning, and singing. Supper was quesadillas and black beans. I feel quite at home, but really tall.

MONDAY

We rode to bus to Chimaltenango. We = Katy, Rebeca, Michelle, and I. There were many, many stops – mostly women and children taking large baskets to market, or on their way to shop. Two young guys took turns transferring the “cargo” from the women’s heads to the top of the bus, minding the door, and helping the driver enter busy streets or back up.

The women wear traditional dress, so it was very colorful. The buses are painted wild, bright colors too, and each bus has its own name, given by the driver I assume. Most of the names are feminine, and are either inspired by the Catholic Church or a girlfriend – it wasn’t always totally clear which.

In Chimaltenango we had a short meet and greet with the Governor of the state, and also the Mayor. The town is very noisy, crowded, and busy. Store displays spill out into the street so signs are superfluous. There are cars (old cars) and buses (old diesel school buses) spewing huge clouds of exhaust (visible and invisible but very, very smelly) everywhere on the narrow streets. Traffic does not stop for or even notice foot traffic, so I almost got smacked a few times. This did not inspire a great deal of confidence in my hosts. (This later played out to be justified.)

On the way back we passed by the market. I couldn’t believe the bus actually drove there – almost touching the store buildings on one side and the market stalls on the other. A lady brought 2 live chickens on the bus.

We arrived home in time for an excellent bunch prepared by Dona Angela. Afterwards we went to the school –Katy’s first day. The teachers had organized a Welcome party. Many of the students participated. It was very moving. Many people spoke kind words, and there were several groups of students doing traditional dances. Have I mentioned it is the rainy season? The dancers performed in the pouring rain. Afterwards Katy talked with students, and we all had coffee with the teachers. There were some students still playing music, and others were dancing. Katy and I also danced - she with a student and I with a teacher. I thought it would be a fun way to connect with the students. It turns out the church doesn’t allow dancing so I hope I didn’t offend anyone or get Katy in trouble.

At the welcoming party I was videotaping so I put Rebeca’s 7 year old son in charge of taking pictures. (Don’t worry Susan – my camera, not yours!) He did a great job. I love the pictures children take.

Anyway, this evening everyone (Walter, Angela, Rebeca, Carlos, Michelle, and Katy) entertained themselves looking at the pictures Carlos took.

Did I mention it is the rainy season? I did, however, ride inside the pick-up to and from school today – after all, only 6 of us were inside.

So Katy has been officially welcomed by 2 mayors, the Pastor, Elders, the entire church, the City Council, the Education Board, Co-op Board, teachers, students, and the Governor. I told her all that’s left are the Rocks and Trees.

I can’t stop eating tortillas, staring at the view, saying “Gracias, muchos gracias,” and taking pictures.

I’m drinking coffee and liking it. Go figure.

TUESDAY

Today is Tuesday. I ran the other direction out of town this morning. It was just as beautiful as the first way. I just can’t stop taking pictures.

At 8:00 Jorge took me on his motorcycle to an ancient ruin called Ixeche. This was the first capital of the Catecan (spelling?) people. It was beautiful, and moving. NO one was there but the two of us, some workers, and loads of singing birds. It was so peaceful.

Then we went to Tecpan. I got some good video from the back of the motorcycle. He took me to Tecpan to purchase a traditional costume of Guatemala. The first stop was the tailor. I got measured, and started into a few conversations in Spanish which I could not finish.

Then we bought the apron in a different store. In that store I filmed a girl weaving the traditional clothing.

Then we went through the market which was very interesting – I got some good footage. Then, by accident, I heard a marimba band. I followed the sound into a store and filmed these 6 guys playing two marimbas. It was awesome. It turns out they are a professional group. I should mention that the marimba is the traditional instrument of Guatemala.

After lunch I went to the field with the family, and hoed a field of sweet peas. It was interesting to see the field and the work. The women went back, and Walter and I worked a while longer. Then Dona Anjela called and made us come in because the rain was coming- did I mention it’s the rainy season- and she was afraid I would get sick.

At about 4:00 we went to school for an interesting town meeting. The people gathered at the school. The mayor was there, and his secretaries at a table taking minutes. There was some joking around, and the atmosphere was friendly. The mayor gave them information about a government program – something about government distribution of fertilizer. Some men asked questions, the mayor answered. At one point he made a call on his cell phone to get an answer.

After a while it was sprinkling so the table with the secretary guys got moved under the awning where the people were standing. Soon it was raining enough that the mayor came up under the awning too. (Somebody always gets wet – it is the rainy season.) After a bit it came to a vote for “15-15” or “20-20.” This took a few tries by show of hands. I think the 15-15’s won it.

Then the rain came pouring down and, even though the meeting was over, no one could leave, they came by foot or bike. Everybody laughed and waited in good humor.

After supper I was logging my video of the day and they all wanted to watch – so I suggested we watch through the TV. The ten of us (4 ladies, 5 children, and me) watched my video of the day.

One of the things that is different here is shared space. I sleep in a room, but it is still shared space. During the day the children come in, anyone can come in. Everyone spends the day together. Of course the kitchen is the central space.

OK, that’s it.

WEDNESDAY

Today is Wednesday.

I had my stuff stolen today. If I wrote about it I could only complain – so I’m going to bed.

THURSDAY

Today is Thursday. We got up before 5:00 and left for Guatemala City at 5:30. Our mission was to get a temporary passport for me. We arrived at the American Embassy at 7:30 and left at 10:15 with passport in hand. There was happiness all around.

Guatemala City:

I won’t say much because I’m trying to remain positive. But, I don’t like Guatemala City. Not one bit. I don’t think I have ever said that about any city I have ever been in anywhere in the world.

Here goes: The buildings are (with a few exceptions) ugly, or boring, dirty, thrown together. The traffic is horrible. All the cars are so old the exhaust is horrible, not to mention the thousands of old diesel buses spewing huge clouds of black smoke. The air is so thick with pollution my eyes were burning and I had a low-grade head-ache the whole time. I never saw a neat or tidy neighborhood or nicely painted building.

Alright, now all of this would normally fall under the category of “interesting” of “different.” But, the city is so unsafe you can’t just walk down the street, or ride the bus. Seriously. We heard accounts like this: Thieves cut off fingers to get rings or hands to get watches. CUT THEM OFF. Robbed at gunpoint and so on.

I don’t like Guatemala City.

From there we drove back to Chimaltenango to run some errands related to the theft yesterday. I should say that Nehemius, Rebeca, Katy and I were in the truck.

Nehemius and Rebeca were so much fun. We soon put the loss of possessions, worry, and long hours on the road behind us, and had a really fun time. We laughed the whole afternoon.

I wanted to buy a traditional set of girls’ clothing, so we stopped off in Cherijuyu to pick up Nehemius’ wife and drove on to Tecpan. Maria and Rebeca helped us find the right stuff in the market, and did the bartering.

Then it poured rain and we got soaked on the way back to the car- even with umbrellas. We came home via the old Pan American Highway – which I wrote about earlier. It is very beautiful and I got a great picture of a yoke of oxen.

I have to stop for a minute to try to explain how gracious and giving all the people have been. The whole family and Nehemias were in Antigua at the time of the theft. They insisted we drive to Guatemala City to try to get a passport right away. Of course the Embassy is a picture of inept beaurocracy, and we had to come back today. That meant the 7 of us spent 6 hours in the cab of a small Toyota pick-up in stinky, crawling traffic. All the while no one complained and they were all so nice.

Then add the time we spent this morning driving to Guatemala City again.

Last night the pastor and his son came over to fix a lock (keys stolen from Katy’s bag) and prayed with us.

Well, anyway, everyone has been amazing and encouraging.

So, then, tonight we got home and Dona Anjela fixed fried plantains- which were awesome. Then we had chicken, fries, and tortillas. After that we had church, and I talked to the musicians about the bajo sexto – a Latin American guitar.

Driving to church goes like this: me in the back with the two little ones. We pass women with baskets on their heads, children in traditional dress, mend riding bikes, motor bikes, pickups (most of them small Toyotas) or walking - all of them carrying hoes or other farm implements. The driver of every vehicle gives a short toot on the horn to every human they meet. We can’t drive faster than 10 MPH because the road is so full of pot holes (deep ones) and you have to avoid running over all the people I mentioned above. There are lots of cargo trucks so you have to pull over (but not too far or you’ll fall in the ditch) and wait for them to squeeze by.

We are driving so slow that I greet and am greeted by all the above people- most of whom are in great spirits, and are intrigued and humored at the sight of the gringo riding in back.

We always end up with more people in the back than we started out with - stopping to give a ride to some pedestrian.

All of this takes place on the muddy, puddle filled Old Pan Am Highway – (Did I mention it is the rainy season?)

We ended the day at about 9:00 (after coffee, cookies, conversation, and poems by Carlitos – age 6 or 7) with an earth quake. The tremor shook the house pretty good. It felt like being on the ocean for about 2 or 3 seconds.

Well, that’s it.

FRIDAY

I started the day with 4 year old Michelle. “We” washed my clothes in the concrete water basic. I ended the day with a very nice doctor. He put stitches in my foot.

In between I ran 9 miles on the Old Pan Am Highway, past Jorge’s summer cabin, through the next village, down the big hill, past the wheat mill to the fork in the road to Patzan and then turned around. I’m getting pretty familiar with this place.

I spent the afternoon in the field with the family scraping the weeds out from around a field of lettuce. It was fun to work together.

We left there to go visiting and I cut my foot getting out of the back of the pick up. Don’t ask me how I did it, lots of people looked at what happened and it was generally agreed upon to be a miracle – impossible by human standards.

That led to yet another trip in the Toyota – 8 of us – to the hospital in Chimaltenango. Six stitches, a boat-load of advice, a late supper, and much laughter over the events of the day.

I can’t do anything for two days. Hmmmm.

SATURDAY

Today is Saturday. I was bound to my chair because of the stitches. But I had a boat-load of visitors all day. In the morning Bernarda and Rebeca washed my stitches. They were very professional and I don’t think anyone could have done it better.

Then Katy and I talked for a while and afterwards I read some of Shane Claiborn’s book. Then we talked some more. It was good and I think I understand more about Katy’s perspective on Justice etc.

The Pastor, Elders, and Deacons came by to pray for my foot. 12 guys. That was so thoughtful and I was very honored and moved by their show of concern.

Dona Anjela and Rebeca made a delicious dinner of fried chicken and the lima beans from Jorge’s field. (He brought them yesterday.)

After lunch Katy and Rebeca and Michelle went to do chores around town and I read some more and played the guitar and got out my marimba. Jorge came by and we played marimba together. Francisco stopped by – He’s the president of the Education Association. With the help of the dictionary we had a nice conversation. I forgot to say how fun it was to play music w/Jorge. No language barrier there – just friends playing together.

Later Rudi, Fredi, and Wilmer came by and we played marimba too. Then Nehemius and much of his family came by. We tried to talk a bit and then Katy got back so we could have a nice conversation. I think someone else was here too.

Walter and I played guitar (he) and marimba (me) together until nearly supper when Jorge came back from Tecpan with the rest of my traditional costume. Of course I tried it on and everyone was real fun about how cool it looked.

He also gave me a personal souvenir – a vase he made to commemorate his daughter being queen of Chirijuyu. It was an amazing gesture.

Everyone has been so, so nice.

Here’s another quick glimpse at village life: The roads here are all narrow dirt roads. This week they were being repaired. So the men in town volunteered their time to do the handwork alongside the heavy equipment. That way the town didn’t have to pay for a crew to do it. These guys really work together and have a great communal spirit.

SUNDAY

Today is Sunday. I am still grounded. This morning included lots of kids, marimba playing, treatment of my stitches by two different “nurses” and a trip to the cemetery.

Katy and I say “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” in church. I read some this afternoon, and Katy and I had a nice long talk. She’s a gem. We laughed pretty hard at supper, as usual.

At 6:30 there was a service for a woman who died. We just got back – its 10:30. It was very beautiful how the town turned out to honor the dead woman. Hundreds and hundreds. We sat outside under a sort of low porch and under a tarp in the “courtyard” of her house. The most interesting part was the guy who sat by the gate and whacked intruding dogs with a big stick.

Katy and I say again. There was lots of prayers sessions. Here, they pray loudly, passionately, and everybody out loud together at the same time. We sang dozens of hymns – all 4 verses. They sing them sort of drug out, with no apparent awareness of or concern for a steady beat, or meter.

I think I’m the tallest person in town by a foot. Everyone had a pretty good laugh when we stood up to sing because I just missed hitting my head on the beam supporting the roof of the awning. I had to peek down to see the people in the back.

We had the first real sunset today, (it’s the rainy season.) It was nice and I took a picture.

MONDAY

Today is Monday. This morning I packed and helped Katy get started recording her finances.

Rebeca fixed a delicious meal of chicken, rice, and a delicious vegetable sauce.

This afternoon I helped Walter put the posts in for the peas. Katy is at school. She is feeling more in a normal schedule. I think this has been a good transition for her. I think this trip has accomplished the purpose of helping Katy get settled in here in Chirijuyu.

Last Supper

I’m sitting amidst piles of boxes, eating pulled pork and fried okra from “BarB Cutie’s” with a Shiner Bock. It’s not technically my last supper in Texas, but symbolically this is it. I wanted to eat something Texasish. I haven’t searched, but I’m thinking they don’t have fried okra in Cincinnati.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. I won’t miss fried okra anything like I’ll miss my colleagues at school. I have already written what this staff has meant to me. For the last two months I have procrastinated all thoughts of parting. I determined just to enjoy every last day at Reed. Well, tomorrow is the last day. Damn.

They have all been so gracious to me, choosing to look at the positive things I did. They always said the nicest things. I’m pretty much over-rated at school. To me I'm just some guy who tries hard among a staff of people who know what they are doing, and love our students like crazy. Inspirational they are.

I’m hoping I can get through tomorrow without being reduced to a puddle on the floor.

Katy and I are leaving for Guatemala Friday. I’m so proud of her. A parent always hopes their children go beyond them. All three of mine have. I took Katy on a few mission trips, and now she is taking me on one. My purpose is to help get Katy settled, and build relationships with the people of the village. I’m not sure what I’ll actually do, but I hope it includes a little teaching. I also hope I can get footage for a short documentary about village life, textile production in the village, farming, and some local music. I’ve packed my camera, mics, and tripod.

After I leave Guatemala I’ll spend a week in San Miguel, Mexico. Some of my teacher friends invited me to visit them when they go south this summer. It’s a dangerous thing to invite me on a trip like that because I’ll take you up on it!!! I am so excited to go. I have wanted to go to Mexico since high school. Crikey, that’s over 30 years! If things work out, I’ll get to buy an authentic Mexican instrument from the person who made it. I think we’ll see some interesting places. My friends are the most hospitable people I ever met, so it should be fun!

Meanwhile Susan will be in our new Ohio house alone. When I made the plans it seemed like a good idea, I guess I was sort of dragging my feet about leaving here. I think I’ll get a chance to make up for it – our new house needs some remodeling…

I’ve been a little long-winded tonight. I’m not sure I can blog again until I get to Ohio in the 27^th of June. I plan to journal my trip, so when I get back I’ll post an account of my adventures down south.

Better to just Rip it Off

It’s almost ended. My remaining time in Texas can be measured in hours. I have been saying “Good Bye” for three months now – one group of people at a time. It’s like pulling a band-aid off reeeeaaaalllllll slowly.

Today was our last “Rise and Shine” assembly at school. We have a short whole-school assembly at the beginning of every week – birthdays, “character kids,” cleanest room of the week, and the “Whoo Whoo” award (we are the Owls here are Reed), the presentation of which is a riot.

Well, anyway, I made the mistake of looking across the gym at all my students and thinking about our year together. I am going to miss those rascals. I had to dive into the restroom for a tissue so I could operate the sound system for the performance of Ms. Hastin’s class with dry eyes.

I’m such a dweeb.

I decided months ago not to dwell on leaving, but just to make the most of everyday we have together. There will be plenty of time to miss them after I am gone. But that day is almost here, and I don’t like it.

We said good bye to our Small Group from Church last Saturday. Even though we all knew it was coming, I had a hard time with our parting. These friends are so dear, and such great people, we are so much better for having known them.

Balboni's Barbequed Baked Beans

In the end even I liked it.

In the beginning it was just an idea. Then it grew to a spoken goal, “Let’s create a musical together.” As the year rolled forward those 110 4^th graders and I inched ahead, transforming the idea into reality.

Last Thursday we performed it. It seemed to me that all of us; teachers, students, parents, had an experience we will always remember. The students and teachers had worked so hard, the students performed from their hearts, the parents received it so openly - understanding the depth and richness of what their children had experienced.

Personal achievement is wonderful – but group achievement all the more so.

It was called, “A Thief, A Liar, and Some Singing Cows.” Our musical was set in Old Texas. As Billy Bob tries to “get to the bottom” of the why certain things have turned up missing (Including the entire stock of Balboni’s Barbequed Baked Beans) in town the people of Diamondback Springs learn that you can’t hide the truth.