I had a lovely night's sleep last night. Yay! Back to my excellent sleeping habits. Yesterday Terry Gross was interviewing a man who had written a book about coffee. I think it was The Coffee Book. One of the things the author explored was the chemical impact of coffee on our bodies. He said it disturbed our sleep, even if we only had one cup in the morning. While we can fall asleep with only a little caffeine, we never achieve the deep sleep we need to feel completely rested. He said when he got off coffee, he slept like he had when he was an adolescent. Mike was, and I continued to be excellent sleepers. Neither one of us touched coffee. I got off it in 1976 for medical reasons, and Mike had already been off it for a while, also for medical reasons. Maybe that's why we were world-class sleepers.
As I was getting in the car, David Ayo called to say he was on his way and could I give directions again? Can I trust a professional who doesn't know how to use GPS? David was coming to cut my trees back so I can retrieve my view of the ocean. Yes, sadly, our great views require maintenance.
Yesterday, Crista, who owns the Bikram studio and has done a fantastic job expanding it, came up to tell me that I finally owed money. When Crista took the studio over from Mark, she stopped the annual payment plan- except for me. Do I feel special? You bet it. Of course, I am also the most consistent student there.
I got my whole lower back on the floor while in a resting position today, or pretty close to a relaxed resting position. I'm getting more stretch in the muscles at the hip joint of my left leg.
The other day I told a yoga buddy who suffers from plantar fasciitis that she might think of changing how she uses her feet. This involves strengthening specific muscles so that others can relax. She was so not into considering this idea. She argued only that her body was different from mine. I wasn't criticizing her. She's certainly entitled to pursue her solution in her own way. My money is on a different horse; I believe that if I change the way I use my body, I have a chance to solve whatever problems I have. I don't always come in the winner either. However, I love living this way. It makes my life endlessly fascinating. I explore the human body and the human mind through the one example I have, me. I find it a hopeful way to live. So far, so good. The doctors who have looked at the X-rays of my left hip want to know how I'm even walking. No problems, and I get better all the time.
I stopped to drop off some towels at the Friendly Place. My guess is Damon will go through the 20 plus I have left.
Then I stopped at Target to return one of the sets of storage bags I had bought. I paid $24 for a package of four; I discovered that Home Depot sells a similar package for $12. I'm not concerned about the vacuum design working correctly. The Zip Lock ones I bought didn't work anyway. I just want clear bags, so I don't have to wonder what's inside.
Besides the storage bags I bought the other day, I returned a tablecloth still on its display hanger with the Target label on it. Mike didn't think that the 5 or 6 white linen table clothes we had were enough and had bought another one. My hoarder husband.
When I got home, the tree trimmers were working away. They finished fairly quickly. There was a team of four men. B. had observed their work and seemed satisfied with how the men dealt with the mango trees. He was concerned that the flowers might be destroyed, and we would lose the year's crop. They did a severe cutback, but all from the middle of the tree. My lime tree, which was about two stories high and uncomfortably broad, was cut down to shoulder height. It took my breath away. I was assured by the tree man and by B. that it would come soaring back. I don't know if that will take a year or five years.
When I got back to the house, I loaded the washing machine with soiled mats and miscellaneous items, took my shower, and got dressed for school. I wore long pants yesterday. I hadn't worn them since I arrived in Hawaii. It was cold here.
Next, I called St. Michael's. I needed to check if I had the right container for Mike's ashes when we bury him on Saturday morning. Brenda told me that I should buy a resin container for $150, which has room for two sets of ashes, one for his ashes and one for mine. I also asked her if there was a mass available on March 3 for Mike. She said she had taken care of that a while ago. The noon mass will be for him on that date.
Brenda asked me if I had the headstone ready. No. the guy who was providing the monument had never gotten back to me. She then told me that she and Don had the same problem with the provider. They had found someone here on the Kona side who sold headstones for much less money. I stopped by today. Let's see, the Hilo guy wanted to charge me $7000 for a monument. I gulped when I heard that. I had been told he was the only provider on the whole island. For a monument of approximately the same size, the Kona company will charge me $750. Notice the missing zero. To boot, Damon, who is arriving on Friday afternoon, may be able to take a look at it with me. This guy's selection is much smaller, but I appreciate that aspect of his service as well as his price. I was so excited about this find, I had to call Damon immediately. I was relieved by this turn of events; I hadn't realized how much this issue weighed on me. Maybe I will feel better when all the details of his burial are done.
The students in Mrs. D.'s class worked on a writing project and didn't want to work with me. No problem. I love that they want to stay in class so they can work on a project. R. was one of the students excited about the writing assignment. N. asked to work with me, and we wrote a five-paragraph essay on ways to be kind. It was relatively easy to pull information out of him, and I included more of his phrasing in the essay.
When we were through working, Mrs. D. was working on math. D. agreed to come out with me to get help with the fractions work. He didn't know what to do with the assignment. Mrs. D. said he didn't know because he hadn't listened. She said his behavior is not as bad as it used to be, but he is still uncooperative and doesn't' listen as she explains things. I suspect an oppositional disorder of some sort. He is a bright kid and can catch on easily when he listens. Once I understood the assignment myself, it didn't take much to communicate it to him.
R. came out next. I had her read three of the transcribe Carpenter stories. She did much better. She has trouble with the word his. So far, I have noticed four children this year who have difficulty with that word. What is this about? They also have trouble reading them correctly.
I asked her if she wanted to read the fourth story or get a book from the class. She came out with a book that I would say was way over her skill level. However, she struggled with it and let me help her. This is some improvement.
B. had scored 50% on last week's spelling test. I went up to him and assured him that was a very good score for that test. There was no pattern to the order of the words that he could use to help him remember how to spell them. Each word had to be remembered individually. Sounding out wouldn't have helped because the lesson was on homophones. He smiled sweetly. He said he wanted to work on the words on his own. That's fine.
I had observed Mrs. B.'s class leave the room with their backpacks on. I don't know where they were going, but I knew they weren't coming back to the classroom for the rest of the day. They would be dismissed from wherever they were going. This left me with extra time.
I went to work with D. in Mrs. L's class. He came out without complaint even though the last fifteen minutes were going to be devoted to a birthday party for one of the students with cupcakes. We spoke briefly. He told me he had been well behaved and had made no mistakes. Mrs. L. contradicted that report, and when I asked him if she was telling the truth, other students overheard and reported that he had made mistakes. Oh, well. At least he had come out with me without too much of a fuss. It's a work in progress.
Since Mrs. B.'s class wasn't available, I went back to Mrs. D.'s class and asked if any students wanted to work with me. Three kids raised their hands. I picked one little boy, M. He wanted to work on reading. N. was sitting near him and said, "It's okay. You can trust her." While N. never says thank you, his words were as much praise as I could ever wish for. M. was struggling on a J level, which is the end of first grade while he is in third grade. He had problems with decoding and blending sounds even when he can accurately determine what the individual sounds are. He also had a problem discerning the difference between /b/ and/m/. They are both voiced bilabials. I don't know if the children who have this problem are Marshallese. It may be that /b/ and/m/ are not separate phonemes in their language. I know /b/ and/p/ aren’t.
Mrs. B. returned to the class after school was over. She was concerned because I had been out 'sick' the other day. I am convinced that I was 'sick' because of the statin I was on. It imitates flu symptoms. I stayed out because I didn't want to make anyone else sick. I even skipped Bikram. Then I slept all day and all night. It was hard to believe that I wasn't ill. Now that I'm off the drug, I feel much better.
After school, I went down to the Civic Center to find the name of the owner of the empty lot next to my lot. Ronan, my next-door neighbor, on the other side, runs a commercial farm. He said he was doing very well and actually needs more land and was considering renting that empty lot. I would love it if he did. It needs to be cleared. That would be good for me, it would be good for him, and it would be good for the owner, who is a widow who is overwhelmed with taking care of the lot. It would be a win-win-win. The only negative is that the empty lot is not flat; it slopes down steadily. I don't know if Ronan can work with that.
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