Life...

How do you break out?!

{from Harold's Planet}

Wonder Kid!

I saw this posted on Facebook today by my dear friend, Keeley:

This is a wonderful 5 minute case for eating good, local, organic food whenever possible made by a very talented and poised 11-year-old. You have to check it out!

And the beat goes on...

And we're back! Fall has finally arrived in Northern California and we're feeling the fog and cool breezes. It's quite a welcome change after the unseasonably (for us) hot September weather. I'm looking out the office windows to cloudy skies and waving, whooshing leaves, but they have yet to turn color. That's one thing about Oregon I'm missing. The deer are frequent visitors outside our office window. I hear them crunching through the leaves and bushes. We have a buck and a doe that like to hang behind the house. We do live in a gorgeous place!

Chris and I have been plugging along, starting to get into a routine of work and studying. It hasn't gotten easier, but it's become more regular. We're both anticipating a lot of work while trying to maintain a positive attitude. I had a chance awhile back to photograph my classroom at one of my schools. At the other locations, I'm in a multipurpose room or a shared portable, so this room is a chance for the kids (and me, too) to really have a designated "music room." It's a luxury nowadays!

We adventured into the city today to visit the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival. It was recommended to us by our neighbor and we were not disappointed! Today we saw Martin Sexton, the Indigo Girls, Randy Newman, and Elvis Costello, all for FREE! We could have stuck around to see Emmylou Harris, but we both are exhausted and needed to get back home to take care of some work before the week starts. For future reference, this is a great time to visit us! Come next year! The Festival is a blast and there are some absolutely incredible artists. It's a real gift.

The Indigo Girls... waaaaay back there.

Martin Sexton

The tired but victorious concert-goers!

Randy Newman, up-close and amazing.

We're gearing up for soup and sandwich weather and are hoping you all are enjoying the beginning of the most beautiful season (in our opinions)! With the weather comes cold season, unfortunately, and Chris and I are both fending off a couple of bugs. Please send good, healthy thoughts our way!

FALL BREAK

Meg has gently commanded that I write a new post and herewith I concede. Her command might have something to do with a fair and much loved tradition at Boalt: Fall Break. Each year 2Ls and 3Ls fly to LA, NY, CHI, etc., the third week of September for interviews with white-shoe firms and other similarly noble institutions, such as Mexican drug cartels and blood diamond traffickers. With 66% of the student body elsewhere, the law school, including lowly 1Lset, takes a week off from classes.

WAIT -- DOES THAT MEAN CHRIS HAS TIME OFF WHEREAS MEGAN AND OTHER HONEST AMERICANS MUST CONTINUE TOILING?

Yes.

But it's not all beer and skittles, despite my best efforts. For instance, it also involves Cool Ranch Doritos.

Today I made the mistakeof trying to make myself right with the state of California, in particular, its Department of Motorized Vehicles. The primary purpose was to get a California license, which in theory should not trouble a grown, educated man. Theories, however, cannot prepare a human for the reality that is the California public sector. For example, instead of simply showing up, filling out a form, and handing over a wad of cash in exchange for a driver's license, the state of California makes you take a written driving test.

I haven't thought about rules oftheroad in twelve years, and it smacks me as practically sarcastic that California, of all places, should expect its new drivers to abide by the vehicle code when one of every one California drivers is certifiably homicidal.

Here's a question most Cal drivers would fail:

Question 1: At a four-way stop, if you arrive at the same time as someone else, you should:

A. Continue trying to find your Chihuahua, Fredo, at the bottom of your purse.

B. Ask your mom, because you're talking on the phone with her anyway.

C. Gently skid through the intersection while blogging from your iPhone.

Hence, with much umbrage, I dedicated myself to studying the Driver's Manual, driven on by the fear of having to explain to people that I was admitted to Boalt but cannot seem to pass the California DMV written test.

The DMV is open only five days a week, so in true Perdue fashion I woke at dawn, walked two miles down the hill, took the first bus to El Cerrito, and walked another half mile down to the lovely DMV complex located just a hair's breadth from the wonderful town of Richmond (Town Motto: "Broad daylight is no excuse for not committing a property crime.") Wary of walking into a Tupac Shakur video, I made sure to walk along the main road and assume the pose of the most fearsome thing I could imagine:

The whole point of going so early was that I wanted to avoid Pandemonium. I figured that the costs of waking early, arranging for transportation, and waiting outside in the morning chill would weed out upwards of 90% of the set of people in need of DMV services. I was actually feeling pretty confident until I turned the corner and saw this:

Not really.

But still: About 100 people wrapped around the building. Crestfallen I took a humble spot at the very back and decided, hey, I have the day off. No rush. So I walked two miles? No biggie. I'll recover here in this line with these fine people. The line started moving, and we were all feeling good. Not ten minutes went by, and we were inside the warm DMV building, which ended up being much larger than I anticipated. Finally, I made it to the front of the line. A nice, friendly lady beckoned me.

"Birth certificate?" she asked as she handed me a form.

"What?"

"You have a birth certificate or passport?"

"No, I have my old license."

"We need a birth certificate or passport. Old license won't do."

"What am I, running for president?" is what I wanted to say. What I ended up saying was: "Oh, thanks. I'll remember next time."

I ran outside and took a moment for some manly reflection:

Then I went home. All two miles of walking uphill and waiting a bus. Tomorrow? I go again. This time I'm bringing everything I own.

That's by far the most productive I've been all week.

AND MEGAN?

She's a saint, the genuine article. She works around the clock to help little children love music, and she comes home with enough energy to laugh at my lame jokes and tend to serious issues of the day, such as deciding whether I need a haircut. I'm not sure the world of elementary school music deserves her. I'm not sure anyone does.

I Go Among Trees

The past two weeks have been absolutely crazy. I'm not going to go into it right now. I'm just going to focus on how amazing this weekend was... three full days. THREE DAYS, I TELL YOU! What a gift! One thing has been completely solidified for me over the past fourteen days: weekends are precious. Guard them with your life. They belong to YOU.

We spent this past Labor Day Weekend lazing around the house and walking down to Tilden to have a fancy lunch among the eucalyptus trees. We packed our picnic bag, courtesy of Mom and Pop McCornack, full of carrots, pita bread, Panda licorice, fruit leathers, root beer, and a healthy slab of Tilamook cheddar. We have a cheese board and knife in the bag. We just had to have the cheese. We poured the root beer into precious little cups, ate from plates, and happily utilized the cheese board. After a lazy lunch, we ambled over to the Little Farm to pay a visit to our animal friends. The goats, ducks, geese, bunnies, chickens, roosters, sheep, cows, and pig (singular... I wonder if she's lonely) were all out to play. It was us and about fifty screaming children. We hiked home via the Memory Trail, which we think was so named because you remember the trail the next day by the lactic acid stored in your leg muscles. We still had a great time. ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY WEEKEND! For your perusal, some photos follow of our adventure.

The Cheese Board... and cheesy face to match.

Wee Root Beer Cup


Chris found Andre the Giant Carrot

GO DUCKS!

The eucalyptus trees are so beautiful.

Hiking the Memory Trail

The Wisdom of Mr. Rogers

My middle school chorus students looked at me quizzically when I mentioned Mr. Rogers today. We really need some more Fred Rogers in this world right now. Everybody is special in their own special way! I've been spending some time on the world-wide-web listening to and watching a little Rogers Wisdom. Here's a great song to share:

http://pbskids.org/rogers/songLyricsYouAreSpecial.html

Enjoy! Lots of love. L-O-V-E.

Ready... set...

Hello, All! I'm about ready to turn in at 9:00 so I can wake up at an ungodly hour to make the trek over to Marin. I start my first day with my choir at 8:00 am and as many of you know, that's not easy for me. It's not any easier for middle school kiddos, so we'll have a lot in common already. Chris and I did a lot of heavy lifting today at the elementary school where I have a classroom. We moved five heavy cabinets full of instruments from a multipurpose room to the classroom. We also moved a piano, keyboard, and other miscellaneous heavy things. I'm going to be one muscular music teacher! The portable is looking much more like a classroom rather than a scary, empty space. I'll post pictures soon.

Because I just got the okay to move in late last week, the music coordinator and I made the decision to cancel kindergarten classes for tomorrow so I can finish moving in. So, I just have my choir in the morning and move-in the rest of the day. Besides moving in, I think I'll take some time to visit with kids on the playground and at lunch. I'm really excited to get to know them.

I've been having flashbacks to my elementary days when I was waiting anxiously to find out my teacher for the year. The kids were running around the school on Friday with their parents, rushing the windows when the classroom assignments were posted. Kids were either elated or devastated, comparing lists to see which of their friends they were with and which ones they would lose forever to the "other side." It's a mini soap opera of flying playground feelings. I had a few visitors in my empty classroom and met three lovely second grade girls and two kindergarten students, one of which ran right over to hold my hand. As anxious and exhausted as I am, this will be a fun year.

I set up a website for my middle school choir and completed their handbook for the year. I am meeting about thirty middle school kiddos tomorrow morning and am planning on teaching a Venda song, playing a little name game, and going over our handbook. Check out what they're up to here: http://www.meganperdue.com/White%20Hill%20Chorus%20Home.html

Thank you all for your love. I've been needing some extra, supportive vibes down here lately. Keep 'em coming for the first week of class!