Humbility Knocks

The Academy was graced with a visit from the Howard County Building Inspector today. It seems our little capital improvement project on the north grounds has attracted some attention. The inspector was very gracious, and agreement was quickly reached regarding the issue in question. Our guest walked the grounds around the entire perimeter of the campus. After his little stroll, the headmaster was visibly relieved - fortunately the inspector hadn't stopped to comment on the gas line which the headmaster roughed in over the weekend for the fire pit. After all, how much humbility can a headmaster take in one day?

Hercule Poirot: "I am learning, Hastings. It is more English, yes, the humbleness? So, I am learning. I shall be the most humble person in the world. No one will match Hercule Poirot for his humbility."

Good Fences Make Mad Neighbors

Howard County building codes aside, I've been working on this fence for a couple of months now. Let's review progress, shall we? My goal is to block people from wandering into the back yard and falling into the swimming pool - thus, I must install 32 linear feet of fence on the side yard. After two months of back-breaking work, I have 8 feet blocked, though the fence there is not complete. Say wha?

Today, my neighbor interrupted his vacation in Kitty Hawk to call and ask me if I'd made any progress on the fence. Uh oh. I think that qualifies this project as a high priority for them. HEY, WHEN DO I GET A FREAKIN' VACATION, HUH?!

OK, so I'm slow. I'm half a century old for chrissakes. Give me a break - I knew some of these rocks when they were just kids...

Boyz in the 'Hood

Girls are noisy. They fuss and they fight all the time. They wear noisy "clacky" shoes. The simplest of incidents are fodder for melodramatic wails, complete with real tears. They scream when they're happy, scream when they're scared, scream when they're surprised, and scream when they just feel like screaming. Conversationally, they have boys beat by tens of decibals. Its enough to make the Headmaster run for sanctuary several times a day, into the "Man Room". He may even do a load of laundry or two while he's in there.

But one thing girls rarely do is jolt you with heart-stopping, horrific surprises. That's the specialty of the all-male student body of the Academy. While a max-extract spin cycle might drown out the bone jarring sound of a barbie-doll fight, nothing will soothe the nerves after finding a plastic sandwich bag full of worms. Dead worms. Worms roasting in their plastic death-sauna for an undetermined number of days. Yeah. Only time can heal that memory. Lots of time, and lots of liquor.

When the Headmaster entertains, the last thing he wants to hear from a guest is speculative inquiry into whether something may have crawled behind some furniture and died. In fact, in hindsight, it was an excellent way to describe the smell of bagged dead worms. And, as he later found out, an oddly appropriate description of actual events.

Since getting close enough to take a photo of this grisly scene would have required overcoming the strong gag reflex, and since looking at such a photo would require the same of you, the Headmaster has chosen to spare the details. So, in the spirit of providing visual support for all blog posts, please enjoy these pictures of something the boys dragged home today. (mental note - must visit liquor store)

What's behind YOUR trees?

Its been a rather expensive week around the Academy grounds. And its all because of the number one enemy facing Americans today - TREES.

Before we go shrinking the government down so that it fits in, say, a bathtub, we should marshall our federal resources and mobilize our military heroes in a domestic "Shock and Awe" program against all conifers and deciduous-ers. These things are a menace. I mean, you can't see what's going on behind them - and that's just what the terrorists want.

Earlier this week, while backing the truck across the West grounds to get another load of tree debris (oh yeah, we've graduated from brush-clearing to tree-clearing - those Texans are such wimps), an innocent-looking Bradford Pear tree jumped right out in back of me! I'd like to see that Geico Gecko explain THAT one.




















This evening a wicked storm ripped through the area (at least, that's what the terrorists want us to think). Down came this huge Linden tree in the East Pavilion, taking out a Leyland Cypress in its path. The wind snapped the tree right in two. I'm feeling safer already...

Uh... He-hello?

Uh... he-hello? Is this thing on? Is anyone there?

Huh. First post since November last year. I gotta give a quick shout-out to all the people who've maintained links to this blog. You know you've thought more than once about taking them down...

The Headmaster's, er - head, is swimming with all the construction projects he's started since then. Of course, none are finished, but I suspect you knew that. And speaking of swimming, did you know that according to Howard County building codes, if you own a swimming pool you must maintain a fence (minimum 48" high) around the pool perimeter, with a locked gate? Huh. The Headmaster tried to get a variance for a cracked, leaky swimming pool, but they weren't swayed by his argument that, should someone actually fall in, the pool would virtually drain its entire 40,000 gallons within a week anyway.

So, we're all about getting the fence done before the new neighbors move in. They have toddlers. FREAKIN' TODDLERS! JUST WHAT THE HELL WE NEED MORE OF AROUND HERE!! Okaaaay.... deep breath... serenity now..... There... (mental note - must stop at liquor store)

Anyway, I've cleared a bunch of brush out of the side yard. Hey...

- from New England
- able to speak with a Texas twang
- clears brush
- never served in the military
- never REALLY went to college

...I think I'm fully qualified to become President! Oops, no wait... not hearing voices from God yet. Except for that time He told me to quit my job and stay home. No wait, I think that was my boss.

Anyway, I've taken down the old fence and I'm starting to dig the holes for the concrete footers. Woah! Concrete footers you say? Did you say concrete footers?! Hey, we don't do anything half-assed here in Texas - er, at the Academy. Plus, I need to do something with those three tons of field stone that have been holding my driveway in place for more than a year now. So, here are some pics, and plans. Stay tuned...

Here is an elevation of the fence plan - four stone pillars flanking tongue-and-groove cedar sections...








If you recall, this was how we started this whole thing. Note the old stockade fence...


















And here we're all trimmed up, fence down, and ready to begin...

Son of a B______!

Beckett knows. He always knows.

Whenever the Headmaster heads out of town for an overnight trip, Beckett seizes the opportunity. Remember our Disney holiday? Beckett got the better of the Headmaster that day, but who's laughing now? Certainly not Beckett, whose body lies rusting in the Howard County landfill.

But Son of Beckett lives. The last remaining oil-fired appliance in the Academy - the furnace, source of all that is warm and good - carries the bitter grudge forward. The Headmaster went to North Carolina for the Thanksgiving holiday, and as he sat at the banquet table engaged in enthralling conversation with the In-Laws, perhaps pausing only to dab a spot of gravy from the corner of his mouth, Beckett went to work. The phone call from Academy staff came quickly enough - "The heat isn't working and we're FREEZING!" The Headmaster set his napkin gently on the table and swallowed hard. With veins bulging in his neck, he raised a fisted fork to the ceiling and shouted "BECKEEEEEEEEEETT!" A small piece of turkey and one green bean fell to the table as the father-in-law dropped his jaw open. Yeah, good times.

Although there was positively nothing the Headmaster could do to salvage what little remained of his reputation with the In-Laws, he awoke this morning (after a long, cold night) with some small hope that, by fixing the furnace himself, he might salvage what little remains of the Academy's endowment. The Headmistress was skeptical - she waited at the top of the stairs with a twitchy finger on the speed-dial, ready to call in the professionals.

Several hours later, with every tool in the Academy's workshop brought to bear, the Headmaster emerged victorious and positively reeking of #2 fuel oil. Who knew there were SO MANY parts in a furnace?!

So, Son of Beckett, who's laughing now?


Oh crap, we're in trouble....

Raindrops Keep Falling on my House...

Watching the rain fall at Fenway Park tonight, I suddenly became aware that it was raining pretty hard outside here in Highland, Maryland also. And then it hit me - I didn't care! Two years after moving in, I can finally say that I don't care if it rains. After two years of running around with buckets, squeegees and sponges, I could care less. Its all better now.

Sometimes the simplest of things can mean so much.

Beautiful Evening

What a beautiful evening it was last night. The leaves on the trees were shimmering yellow and fire-red, and even at twilight the moon was bright. Birds were chirping. Crickets were... cricking. The fire was snapping and crackling in the fire pit. Just a wonderful evening for pouring a drink and sitting back to watch....

THE FREAKING RED SAWX WIN, BABY!

WE'RE GOIN' TO THE BIG SHOW!!!!!

Check, please.

Today the entire faculty and student body of the Academy went to "Sunday in the Park" at Centennial Park. It was billed as the most fun your kids would have this Halloween. Five minutes into the affair, this was the look of fun on most faces:



That's because FIFTY THOUSAND other families had the same destination. We sat for 45 minutes in the line for parking, then stood in line for another 45 minutes to purchase tickets, only to realize that you needed to stand in line another 45 minutes to DO ANYTHING. Uh, exit stage left. On the way to the car, Josh says "Well that was a big bucket of nuthin'".

So we came home and set up our own "Sunday in the Park" on the west grounds. First we sat around sipping our "H-eye Ball" martinis. Then we spread hay all around and buried dozens of prizes, which the kids had to find in their "needle in a haystack". Then we bobbed for apples and made scarecrows using our carved pumpkins for heads.

Next year, I'm charging the kids admission.

Progress is as Progress does...

Eventually I hope to post some REAL "after" photos, but for now, these will have to do. Actually, its more like "during" and "more during" photos...

Put A Lid On It

The lower dormitories are now ready for the winter, with the access stairwell covered up and dry. This represents another success (of sorts) for the closer. Unfortunately, its all temporary. The entire structure will have to come down this Spring, so that the retaining wall beneath it can be razed and rebuilt with stone.

sigh...

Welcome! Here, hang your coat on my nipples...

When the Headmaster was installing the new flooring in the conservatory, he had some leftover landing tread that he'd used around the stairwell. Being the frugal sort that he is (penny-wise, pound-foolish), and knowing that the conservatory needed a coat rack, he kept the material.

et voila.

Today we called in the closer, and the Headmistress is pleased to see yet another capital improvement project successfully completed. Using the left-over tread and half-inch gas-pipe fittings, the Headmaster has built an industro-chic coat rack, très élégant.

Each hook on the inverted tread is fashioned from the following gas-pipe fittings:

- 3" flange
- 1.5" nipple
- end cap

What delight the Headmaster will take in welcoming guests with his new double entendre!

That is, until the Headmistress l'entend...