Author Archives: Jo Hawke

Classroom Conundrum

I’d had this quotation in mind for a long time, but only made a poster of it this past year. It’s what you could call a conversation-starter. And not just with students.

The “witticism” is attributed to Winston Churchill, although there’s a lot of debate over its original form.

“Don’t end a sentence with a preposition” is one of those language rules that we’re taught early on, before we can be trusted with inconsistencies and user discretion. It goes right along with “Don’t start a sentence with ‘because.'” #ugh

A Man Unlike Any Other

This man is a man unlike any other.
He was not only man, but also God.

God.

No matter where you’ve been,
what you’ve done,
or whether you believe it or not,

He died for you.

To say this man was only a man,
but a good man, a prophet,
is illogical. He himself claimed to be

God,

and if it were not so,
he would have been a liar,
a cheat, a blasphemer.

But this man was not only man, but also God.
This man is a man unlike any other.

It doesn’t seem finished. But then, most of my poems don’t. Works in progress, just like me.

50/365: Atticus’ Kids Period

Picasso had his Blue and Rose periods; El Greco had his Cretan and Italian periods.

Four-year-old Atticus is now in his “Kids Period.”

Every time he breaks out the paper and markers or crayons, he’s drawing kids. Kids with candy. Kids with bumps on their heads. Kids with one arm. Purple kids. Blue kids. Green kids. Kids under clouds. Kids under the sun.

I asked him why he loves to draw kids.

“Everybody likes kids,” he shrugged.

When Atticus draws a picture, he wants me to write down its name, the date, his name, and the person he’s decided to give the picture to. These two are for Kevin’s aunt Melanie and her daughter Kelsey.

And the Heavens Opened Up

Not really.

But I do love it when the sun’s rays shoot out from behind the clouds.

It’s like my inner three-year-old jolts to life or something. I’m all, “Yes! Do it again!”

This week has been tough, like two weeks of work jam-packed into one and two days of feeling running over by the head cold Mack truck.

And tonight was the funeral-home visitation for Kevin’s grandmother, who passed away Wednesday, after more than two weeks of misery and suffering in the hospital.

She was an amazing woman, Mae Simpson, and she will be terribly missed by her family and friends.

The last thing she said to Kevin, after telling him he needed to go home and be with his family instead of sitting at the hospital with her, was that she was going to be all right “either way.”

This afternoon, staring at the sun rays, I couldn’t help but wonder what the view was like from her side.

46/365: Advertising Faux Pas

Every time I see this (which is usually at least once a day), I have to shake my head.

The current restaurant’s sign is posted with removable letters underneath the old restaurant’s sign.

Doesn’t exactly elicit trust in their ability to provide a quality product, does it?

Colored Pencil Girl

I found this today when Atticus and I were looking through paper to find some more for his work.

I did it sometime last fall, I think. It’s in colored pencil.

And before you ask — it’s nobody.

I can’t draw somebody in particular to save my life, but I can draw somebody who sorta looks like somebody could look.

Kevin said he thought her eyes look alive, like they’re looking at you. I thought that was pretty cool!

Distorted Views

I took this picture today as we were driving across the Main Street bridge, heading south.

Those cut-outs in the concrete railing, which appear diagonal because of our speed (which, Kevin assures me, was not above the limit), are in reality vertical.

Weird, huh?

It makes me think…

Sometimes I’m careening through my days at what seems like ten times what must be the limit.

I wonder what that must do to my ability to assess reality and how many poor decisions I’ve made simply because I acted on my distorted view.

Um, Hello? Right on Red?!

Um, hello? Right on red?!

Unless you’re in New York, where the right-on-red allowance is against the law. I found this out only after turning right after stopping at a red light in Manhattan. Check out the dubious Wikipedia article: “All 50 states, as well as the District of Columbia, Guam, and Puerto Rico (except in New York City) have allowed right turns on red since January 1, 1980, unless a sign otherwise prohibits this.”

But I’m in Danville, so … um, hello? Right on red?!

He or she had his or her right turn-signal on and was stopped right on the white line, patiently awaiting the light change.

And speaking of gender wonder, did you notice there’s no head in view? It makes me wonder if he or she is even tall enough to drive his or her car. Is there a height requirement? I’ve never seen one of those “You have to be THIS tall to drive” posters at the DMV, but it seems to me that height would be more of an issue in driving a car than in riding a roller coaster.

Anyway, while he or she was evidently sitting patiently, I, on the other hand, was very much displeased with having to wait and almost wished I’d turned and driven through the bank parking lot instead, except that it would’ve been illegal and therefore wrong.

And speaking of wrong, this particular spot of this Franklin Turnpike/Piney Forest Road intersection is wrong. Really wrong.

Look through that car’s windshield. See the curve of the curb on the right? That gives you some idea of how far it is between the white line that should mark the stopping point, as today’s driver so nicely displays, to the actual intersection.

In order to implement my right to right, I have to venture out many feet (not a good mental measurer) to the edge of the heaviest-trafficked street in the city.

Who thought this one up? It looks like someone along the way would’ve realized this was a bad plan.

But since Kevin just informed me that the bank parking lot alterna-plan was a no-go not only because it was wrong but also because the building is no longer a bank and a chain blocks the lot on both ends, I guess I shouldn’t be blaming anyone else for not thinking something all the way through, huh?