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Sunday, September 18, 2011


When we left the melting glaciers we decided to head to Washington’s northwest corner. It’s as far from Miami as you can get without a passport.
We followed the Columbia river (that’s Francesca stretching next to it) until we got to the ever-moist Olympic National Park. Fish must love this place, the rain never ends.

Moss jumps up on everything.
If you stand still in one place too long it starts growing on you.

Seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time on this journey was good but not "totally awesome". It was more like seeing a cold, old friend.

Pi liked it because we finally let off her leash. She chased seagulls until her stubby legs gave out.

This dead fish looked like he was sunning on the beach but of course, this being the Pacific Northwest, there was no sun.
Was he "clouding"?

I shot about a thousand pictures on our 49 Days of Fun. Now I am adding pictures and stories that I didn’t have time to send first time around.

I hope my web log doesn’t seem like “Woodstock II” . That movie had the music not good enough for the original Woodstock.

I suppose I could do what I usually do, journaling about what’s going on in my life. Truth is, at the moment it’s probably not interesting enough to write about.
Here’s a sample:

Francesca and I are beginning our fifth weeks of teaching manana.
Thanks to Governor Rick “Skeletor” Scott we have many more students in our classrooms. I used to teach 650 kids every week. Now its close to 900. One class has 58 kids, another 53, and so on. Every hour a tide of ten-year-olds sweeps into my art room, I teach as best I can for then another hefty group takes their place. This happens all day.
Yes, it sucks, but at least I have a job. Most Florida schools got rid of their art/music/drama programs a long time ago. Its not just the economy; Florida has always been near the bottom of the "money spent on public education list”.

I wish I had time to get to know each of my students. Some are little more than a smiling blur. When some ask at the beginning of the school year, “Do you remember my name?”, I just quip, “Of course. I’ll never forget your name and I hope you don’t either”.
Now, let me tell you about the outstanding art lessons I’ve planned for this week.

Whoa, too bad. As you can see from these fading letters I'm running out of ink.

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