Early in the school year, Clay entered a couple of pictures in a county 4-H photography contest. The fourth grade social studies/science teacher at his school is excellent (don't just take my word for it... she's previously won the area title of Teacher of the Year... probably more than once, but at least once that I know of!). Mrs. T, as she is known to her students, even taught Bruce back when he was in school. And I'll tell you a little story about that in a minute.
Mrs. T works along with the county 4-H folks and gets the students involved in various projects. Clay doesn't do all of them. He wasn't interested in the cornbread making contest, although I'd have let him follow my grandma's killer cornbread recipe if he'd asked. Seriously, I'm sure he'd have won with her recipe! But he had no desire. Nor did he jump to be involved in the public speaking competition. Can't say that I blame him there. He can always get over his fear of being center stage when he's older.
But he was all over the photography contest. Probably because he's seen Bruce be so interested in photography.
So one fine day in late October last year, during a camping trip to Pigeon Forge, our family spent a day at Cade's Cove in Townsend. We really enjoy that place.
Bruce toted along his camera equipment. Clay brought tons of enthusiasm.
It was chilly, windy and kind of drizzling to boot. But perfect lighting for some outdoor photography.
Bruce took several pictures and then we found a very pretty spot for Clay to take his picture. Bruce explained some camera settings to Clay and then cut him loose.
Clay entered a couple of pictures in the competition, including this one...
... which won second place in the "water" category. Nice job, Clay! (And dad, too, for braving the weather while mom stayed tucked away inside the truck.)
Now for my story about Mrs. T and my husband. This story also features Clay.
A couple weeks ago, I started thinking about canning with a pressure cooker. Spring is just around the corner. We had a friend dig up a garden plot for us last fall. Seeds had been purchased for every vegetable that appealed to Clay the day he went shopping with me.
However, a few years back, for my birthday Bruce exchanged our normal range for a glass top range. I thought I'd love it. And when it's clean, I do. But it is harder to clean, in my opinion, than a regular stove top. AND, if you go online and do some research, you'll read all kinds of cautionary tales about not using a pressure canner on glass top stoves. Something about the weight breaking the glass. Or the base of the canner scratching the top. Or the variant heat not keeping the pressure regulated, thus leaving you with a chance of poisoning your family with botulism. Who knows which is actually true, if any.
But I am a rule follower by nature. I read instructions when baking. I heed traffic signs. I am a huge fan of directions. They make me feel safe and secure.
All that info is back ground, so you'll understand why I was spending a morning working through a junk drawer that I rarely open. It holds various things that won't be mentioned along with every single owner's manual for each and every kitchen appliance owned by our home's previous owner (who must also have had a great love of following directions). And since we bought our home nearly 10 years ago, we've just tossed into the drawer any owner's manuals for new appliances we have bought along the way.
I was sure I'd find the owner's manual for my glass top stove and it would tell me in no uncertain terms either "Do not use a pressure canner" or "Go ahead and can to your hearts content... all other contrary opinions are stupid."
I found no such great guidance.
But I did find an envelope addressed to my mother-in-law from Mrs. T. The letter had been passed on to me a few years ago, long before I ever thought that Clay might also have this same teacher. I had completely forgotten I even had the letter.
There was a note inside from Mrs. T to my mother-in-law. It said she had found a note that my husband had written to her back when he was in her class... on July 2, 1981. Bruce was in second grade at the time.
Then Mrs. T tucked in the note from my husband. I'm going to type it the way he wrote it after the salutation...
"I told my Mom and Dad that I cheated a few times this past year. I have asked them to forgive me, I have prayed and ask Jesus to forgive me and now I would like to ask you to forgive me. Thank you for being a nice teacher.
love,
Bruce"
I got a nice chuckle out of it, so I kept it out, planning to send Mrs. T an e-mail about it.
Later that day, Clay found the envelope and wanted to know what it was. I told him to go ahead and open it and find out.
He read both notes, got a silly little smile on his face and then said, "Dad was a dirty rotten cheater."
I burst out laughing!
Clay wasn't being disrespectful. He got a little glimpse into what his dad was like as a boy. And I think it was good for him to see that his daddy wasn't perfect. And he still isn't!
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