This is a new article regarding a homeschool situation unfolding in CA right now.
Not a pretty sight. . .I started homeschooling in CA. . .’cuz their schools sucked (at least the local ones where we were). Ummm, yes, and I think “sucked” is the nice / polite descriptive word as to their state.
OH, and before someone gets all wound up, I said “schools” not necessarily “teachers”. Even bad schools can have a few excellent teachers.
My family is sick. It started last Sunday, with just the sniffles, but it’s progressed.
Jay went away this week for TDY and really got hit with it. He came back last night saying he was so glad to be home so he can get better. He says that knowing there’s a house full of “sickies”. I take that as a mega-compliment.
Ah, but as it turns out, being sick is just what I needed to bring back memories. . .
We were in the midst of a tale. . .and I left off here.
If you recall I was mightily surprised that not only was the schoolhouse giving me another chance, but the military had agreed to this atrocity.
Well, I now remember why.
I had gotten sick. Not a little sick mind you. . .but very sick. Sick enough that I missed 2 weeks of school.
It was a horrendous case of bronchitis, I believe. It just got progressively worse. I don’t recall all the details. . .just flashes.
I remember being excused from morning PT and told to go to the doctor. . .
As an aside. . .military doctors. . .well, especially those that are on training posts. . .they have an unenviable job. And it makes them seem. . .hmm. . .”idiots” is the first word that comes to mind. (Because that was my first experience with them.) Motrin was the cure-all of choice. Now, I realize a bit more, and I can be more understanding of their jobs. . .but at the time. . .
I recall walking to the clinic and having to stop to “eject the ills” from my body, only to stand up again in front of two soldiers who asked if I was “okay”.
“Oh, sure, fine, ” I mumbled.
I don’t have any recollection of the actual doctor’s visit, other than he told me to sit in the hall for a bit afterwards, and then he came to talk to me.
He came out after a bit and was telling me I needed to eat something.
I remember telling him everything was getting dark, and I was going to pass out. . .
Apparently, I did.
My platoon sergeant came to pick me up. What a good guy! He just talked non-stop about this and that, and how the 1st sergeant was irking him, and the Cubs. . .
The next while (days) I don’t recall squat. My roomies ensured I had everything the doctor ordered (to eat), and quiet.
At this time we were the only females on our barracks floor. Man, they were viscious with keeping the males quiet. (I heard about it afterwards. . .the stories the guys told were quite amusing.)
So, anyhow, that’s how come the military agreed to give me another chance.
Now, as it happened, Jay did not start tutoring me until after Valentine’s Day. Our company underwent a major overhaul, so all the “free time”, was spent re-arranging. Barracks were being re-arranged as well, in an attempt to have a better handle on things. They determined that each platoon would be living and working together.
Our barracks floor underwent a major upheaval. It really made no sense to me, but our room was untouched, the remaining 7; however, were vacated and re-occupied. Most of my class now lived on my floor. . .and that included Jay.
The fates were working against me.