Many years ago, I had an interview at Needville High School. I’d never been there, so I asked for directions.

Then managing editor Bob Haenel said getting there was easy.

“Go to the light and turn left,” he said.

“Which light?” I asked.

“The light,” he replied.

Finding our way has gotten easier with the invention of global positioning systems, GPS, but there’s nothing like directions from someone who remembers the old-time navigation ways.

Bob loved giving those kinds of directions, and this is another conversation we had.

“You turn where that house burned down,” he said.

Being new to the area, I asked what house. He proceeded to explain the lineage of the people who’d lived in that house, thinking that explanation would cause the light bulb to go off over my head.

That didn’t work. He described the fire which led to a discussion about fires in the area and houses and businesses the town had lost.

I never did get directions I could follow but I got a great history lesson.

Directions from natives are great as long as you understand local landmarks. When we first moved to Fort Bend County, Terry High School and Willet’s Furniture were the two landmarks people referenced.

It got to the point where when we’d ask how to find something, we’d immediately say we knew where Terry High School was to save time.

Houston directions are confusing. Instead of I-45 and I-10, people say the Gulf Freeway, the Southwest Freeway, the Eastex or the Old-Katy Highway.

As newbies to the area, we had no clue what they were talking about. Not even the GPS identifies those roads by the local names, a point I appreciate.

The modern GPS is indispensable. There are times when I talk to the system like it’s a person sitting next to me. And, just like a passenger, I’ll argue with the GPS.

When that calm voice tells me to head west out of a parking lot, I get frustrated.

“I don’t have a clue about north or west,” I’ll yell to the dashboard. “Tell me which way to turn.”

I also talk to the GPS when it tells me to go one way and I don’t want to go that way. Usually that’s because I know there’s potholes on that road or that the traffic’s always heavy at that time of the day.

“Turn left in half a mile,” the robotic voice will say.

“I don’t think so,” I’ll reply. “Too much traffic.”

“Make a U-turn at the next intersection,” will come the snippy voice insinuating I did not follow the directions.

“That’s not the way I want to go,” I’ll yell at the car.

The GPS does not give up easily. For the next 10 miles, the system will continue to try and reroute me with U-turns until it finally accepts that I’m going a different direction.

And for those 10 miles, I’m constantly telling the GPS it’s not the boss of me and I can go any way I want.

But I’ll give modern technology a pat on the back. There’s no way I could’ve maneuvered through the Dallas interstate system without that electronic voice telling me to switch lanes and roads.

Even though I grew up in the Baton Rouge area, there’s no way my memory could’ve gotten me through the city without that little electronic voice and arrow showing me the way.

There are times, though, when I miss the fascinating oral history that goes along with the old-time directions of “turn left at the old Anderson house.”

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

If you’re going anywhere in Texas, you’re spending a lot of time in your vehicle.

There’s lots of ways to pass the time as you stew in traffic jams, crawl through the school carpool line or cover the 20 miles between your house and the grocery store.

One is to create a bingo game, and here’s a few suggestions for categories. Give yourself a free space in the middle, just to be fair.

There’s the “I Wonder Box.” This is when I guess where people are going. I try to figure out their destination based on how they’re dressed and how many people are in the car.

Some are easy to figure out – a man or woman with a child in a car seat is often heading to a place where kids are welcome.

People in pick-up trucks with mud on the tires could be heading out to the farm or to the feed-and-seed store.

You could use your imagination and come up with all kinds of wonderful stories about where people are heading.

Another favorite driver to spot is the “Who’s the Biggest Idiot on the Road Today?” This game doesn’t last long because there’s so many idiots.

There’s the person checking their phone at the traffic light and doesn’t realize the light has turned green. When you lightly tap your horn to alert them, they act as if aliens are shining a spotlight on their car.

These idiots also turn left from the far right-hand lane or come to a complete stop in the middle of the road for no reason whatsoever.

Not only are they stupid, but they’re also often dangerous.

Then there’s the “My Little Darling” parent in the school drop-off line who, despite sitting in that line forever, will take their sweet time at the drop-off point.

They’ll brush their child’s hair or give one last hug and a kiss, bringing the entire process to a dead stop.

If you don’t have to wait in a school drop-off line anymore, this box can be checked off at the entrance to a store. There’s often somebody dropping somebody off, completely blocking traffic but not caring one bit.

Another box is “Who’s Most Likely to Cause A Wreck Today.” This is the person who decides to cut across four lanes of traffic on I-10, driving 70 miles an hour, to make the exit.

It’s also the person who never signals, runs red lights, is putting on make up or texting while driving. This box is an easy swap for the “Biggest Idiot” category – take your pick.

There’s the “Speed Demon” box. This is the person who comes roaring up on you, zips around your vehicle, almost clipping your fender, and then gets to the red light at the same time you do.

Doesn’t matter to Speed Demon. They rev their engine and take off like a jack rabbit as soon as the light changes only to find themselves fender to fender with you, the slow poke, at the next light.

They also drive at least 20 miles over the posted speed limit because, to them, speed limits apply to other drivers, not them.

There’s the “I’m Terrified” driver, the exact opposite of the Speed Demon.

This is the person who leaves at least two car lengths of space between themselves and every other car, even if they drive 20 miles below the speed limit to accomplish that goal.

They almost come to a stop when merging onto I-10 because nobody wants to let them in. They haven’t quite learned the Texas way of merging – speed up and bully your way into oncoming traffic.

No matter what categories you include in your car bingo game, remember the goal is to arrive at your destination in one piece.

But if you want to make the trip a bit more interesting, create a bingo card and have some fun while you’re maneuvering the always surprising Texas traffic.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

Almost everyone is busy preparing for the coming school year.

School administrators are scrambling to fill the remaining vacancies on their campuses. To say they’d offer a reserved parking spot, weekly spa treatments and a free Thanksgiving turkey to a qualified applicant is an understatement.

Bus drivers and crossing guards are desperately needed as are cafeteria workers and special education aides. The pay for these positions isn’t nearly what these angels are worth.

Teachers are attending professional development sessions where energetic instructors show PowerPoints and use hands-on activities about the latest and greatest theories in how to get kids excited about learning.

The only thing the audience can think about, though, is how they’re never going to get their room set up when they’re spending all their time listening to someone preach.

Parents are staying up late shopping online for Crayola Crayons – only the boxes with 24 original colors, please – colored folders with brads and Ticonderoga pre-sharpened pencils.

They’re questioning why they have to buy a dozen boxes of Kleenex and a case of hand sanitizer. They forget that if one child has the sniffles, the whole class is infected, and teachers can kiss an entire box of tissues goodbye in an hour.

The easiest component in the back-to-school preparation track are the kids. Most get ready for school by wishing their friends are in their classes and that they have a nice teacher.

There’s no shortage of advice about how to have a successful school year.

One of my favorite pieces of advice is to establish routines and consistency. At home, that’s easier said than done when factoring in baseball and soccer practice, traffic jams and last-minute school projects that require at least two after-dinner trips to the store.

Professionals suggest teachers set up a calming learning environment. That’s all fine until a child decides to throw a hissy fit and rip down all the motivational posters on the wall.

Yes, teachers should create a positive and welcoming classroom environment. That’s possible with a smile, easy-going attitude and making sure the kids know you’re happy to be there.

Parents should limit screen time, but sometimes, mom and dad need a breather.

Of all the advice I’ve seen, read, taken or ignored, getting ready for the school year boils down to a couple of sentences.

Don’t sweat the small stuff. Can’t find those pre-sharpened pencils? There will be a pencil sharpener in the classroom.

Don’t understand the computer programs the school district expects you to master so you can contact a teacher? A hand-written letter still works.

Teachers, worried about not having time to set your classroom up exactly as you want?

No worries.

Allow your students to help put the final touches on the room. It might not look like something the seasoned teacher down the hall has or a picture you saw on Pinterest, but it’ll be a space your students will call their own.

The old adage that kids will long remember how you made them feel is absolutely true. Treat them like an experiment and they’ll resent you for not seeing them as a person.

Not every kid comes to school having had a hearty breakfast and a leisurely morning. Never forget that kids and parents are usually doing the best they can under their current circumstances.

Teachers, remember that children need your smile and your grace, both emotionally and in the amount of work you send home. Don’t forget to send home a praising note or make a praising phone call every once in a while.

Administrators, grant your teachers and staff leeway so they can be innovative and creative.

Parents, please give teachers mercy because some of them are parents as well as professionals. Offer to help instead of criticizing.

Take a deep breath and remember… no matter what piece of the educational puzzle you are, it takes everyone working together to put the big picture together.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

With rainy days followed by hot, humid weather, I stayed indoors and tackled some of the long-overdue household chores on my to-do list.

As school is right around the corner, I decided to use the tried-and-true method of A-F grading. Here’s my Housekeeping Report Card for the Summer of 2024.

Laundry – A – I’m a weirdo who enjoys doing the laundry. There’s a feeling of accomplishment watching a pile of smelly, wet clothes transform into folded, dry stacks of clean clothes.

Vacuuming – F – Why vacuum something I’m going to walk on over and over again? Besides, we have brown carpet and light brown tiles in the house so the dirt is practically invisible.

Mopping – F – See note on vacuuming.

Dusting – F – As my friend Patsy likes to say, dust is a protective covering on furniture. Our furniture is over 40 years old and still looks great. Underneath layers of dust, that is. I’m tempted to raise this grade to an A, but in terms of housekeeping, it’s a definite fail.

Rearranging pillows on the couch – A – I don’t go to bed unless the pillows on the couch are arranged in a specific way. Maybe if I spent more time vacuuming than rearranging pillows, our house would be cleaner.

Making the Bed – A+ – I never made my bed when I was a teenager. My husband convinced me that making the bed in the morning was a good start to the day. He’s been right about a lot of things. This is one of them.

Washing windows – D – The only reason I didn’t get an “F” here is because I occasionally wash the inside windows and the windows on the patio door. Toddler handprints have a way of being quite evident.

Cleaning the Fridge – C+ – I’ve improved in this household chore, mostly because it’s just the two of us here, so there’s not as much food in the refrigerator.

Maintaining an orderly pantry – D – I try, I really try to put things in the same place in the pantry after each shopping trip. But when there’s a sale on something and I buy a dozen cans, things must push aside to make room. That’s not always an orderly shove.

Closets – B- – The grandkids have closets in their rooms, and for the most part, those stay orderly. However, whenever they come over to play, forget order. Legos, swords, cars, trucks and plastic fruit are all over the place. When they go home, I shove everything in the closet and shut the door.

The Kitchen Table – A – I make sure the table is cleared every evening after dinner with plastic fruit in a bowl and napkins in the middle of the table. Now if leaving my laptop, notebook, pens, headphones and mouse on the table count as cluttered, then this grade could easily be lowered to a C.

Bathrooms – B – Of all the household chores I avoid, cleaning the bathroom isn’t at the bottom of the list. I procrastinate, but once I get going, I don’t mind swishing the bowl, cleaning toothpaste out of the basin and Windexing the spit off the mirror.

My Car – C – I could blame my messy car on my grandchildren who ride with me quite a bit. But they’re not responsible for the gum wrappers in the front cup holder, the discarded grocery lists or the unfolded blanket, two umbrellas and extra pillow I carry around for emergencies.

Kitchen Drawers – B – I don’t have fancy dividers or holders in most of the drawers. For spatulas and big spoons, they’re tossed in the drawer well enough so the drawer closes. I do have a holder for forks and knives, but when a toddler helps unload the dishwasher, all bets are off.

When I add everything up, I’m passing and that’s good enough for me.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.