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Did you hear about the Texas Teacher who was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots? He asked for help and she could see why.

Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still didn’t want to go on. Finally, when the second boot was on, she had worked up a sweat.

She almost cried when the little boy said, “Teacher, they’re on the wrong feet.”

She looked and sure enough, they were. It wasn’t any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on – this time on the right feet.

He then announced, “These aren’t my boots.”

She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream, “Why didn’t you say so?” like she wanted to. And, once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet. No sooner they got the boots off and he said, “They’re my brother’s boots. My Mom made me wear ’em.”

Now she didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. But, she mustered up the grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again.

Helping him into his coat, she asked, “Now, where are your mittens?” He said, “I stuffed ’em in the toes of my boots.”

Her trial starts next month.

[author unknown]

Gerber Picante Sauce

Gerber Picante Sauce

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Prairie Grass in the Wind, North Dakota, 2005

Prairie Grass in the Wind, North Dakota, 2005 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

September leaned into fall
clinging to the remnants
of summer’s warmth
remembering the distant blooms of spring’s color collage.

September resisted fall’s
persistent march toward winter
a deceiving warm invitation to
a cold death
costumed in ice and snow.

September announced change
to earth’s seasons
its harvest rains preparing life’s fruit
of blood, sweat, and tears for picking.

September called to us
and its night sky planets aligned
the moon rose and moved
east to west
while mars traveled
its easterly course.

September offered up memories
of seasons past and lost
as it rained
surrendered its future
by marking the end
by its rain.

September declared change in
its winds and skies
and it rained
to wash the land
and like tears
cleanse the soul
and like rain
wash away the dust
of a hot, dry season.

September tears rained
upon us as we celebrated
the ripened fruit
of our lives and bodies
and hungrily consumed
the fresh produce
of what we lovingly tendered.

Like harvest rains
mixed with dirt and sweat
September tears came
bitter and salty at first
leaving a thirst for something more
the reward of a good harvest and
a long Indian Summer before
winter’s first chill.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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