This week teachers were to take some time to help students “remember” 9/11 even though they were only, like, two years old when the terrorist attacks happened.

“Stick to the facts,” we were advised, “and just read from this handout that relates the bare-bones events of the day” (and completely neglected the bigger picture).

Students in my classroom were rather low key about the whole thing, but another teacher told me one student’s recommended response to the events: “We should have attacked someone!”

The lesson also mentioned other “dark days” in U.S. history that brought about some good (9/11 brought about renewed helpfulness and patriotism among Americans), including the explosion of the Challenger with a teacher on board (which brought about safer space travel).

“Should we have attacked someone for that, too?” my colleague asked the student.

“Yes,” he said: “the Russians”–which is logical, I guess, considering that we started going to space only because they got there first.

…pays me. Would the free market?

Sunday afternoon when we arrived home from church, I noticed a new member of the neighboring barnyard: a hefty Angus bull.

This was a bit worrisome for me, since, as I’d been suspicious that the farm renter had jacked up the current on the electric fences to a dangerous level, I had just that morning used a tester to measure the voltage and discovered that the fence was not shocking at all, leaving our property’s barnyard boundary permeable.

I again tested the fence and even tried to register a snap with a direct ground, but no dice. I called and left a message for the farmer that, there being no electricity in the fence, I was nervous about the bull.

The next morning when I opened our gate to pedal down our driveway and off to school, I noticed that the bull was no longer in the barnyard. Then I saw it placidly grazing in our driveway.

As I’m not very familiar with cattle, I quickly shut myself back inside our gate and called the farm renter.

“I don’t have a bull down there,” he said.

I called the landowner. She didn’t know whose it was, either, but said she’d call the farmer who grazes his herd across the road.

I bumped along down through the field on the other side of our house to the road and made my way to school, where maybe it was the stress of the bull situation or because it was Monday or maybe it’s just how I am that made me swing by the faculty lounge during my planning period to grab an ice cream sandwich from the stash left over from last week’s faculty meeting.

It was delicious.

At the afternoon’s faculty meeting, then, when ice cream treats were served, I felt ravenous again. Just one more sandwich was simply not enough, plus there was untested variety, so I had an Orangesicle, too. And then–What do you know!–after the meeting I realized I hadn’t even sampled the brand of sandwich that I’d contributed to the snack time, and so, well, I had another.

Perhaps it was the pouring rain, or maybe it was the sugar in my veins; I don’t think I ever pedaled quite so vigorously all the way home, and once there I gobbled chili, pepper and tomato slices, toast, and apple chunks–and didn’t even miss the ice cream dessert M decided not to serve–and learned that the farm renter whose bull it wasn’t sent his son to pen it up until the animal’s owner retrieved it.

This afternoon when my ceiling-mounted LCD projector started swaying and the floor shaking even though no herd of students was running down the hallway, one of my students–it was our first day of school–ventured, “Is it an earthquake?”

If I would have thought faster, I would have told the whole class to crawl under their desks, but instead I just stood there with a puzzled expression on my face while I thought, “You know, they’ve never told us what to do if we have an earthquake.”

“I guess we could all get under our desks,” I said.

“What if you don’t fit?” one girl said.

After school I heard another teacher say, “I almost crawled under my desk, but then I realized that that would still leave twenty three students right there in my classroom in harm’s way.”

But it’s not only because of the earthquake that I won’t forget this–M pointed out that it’s my seventh–first day of school, because today I received a most encouraging note from a mom of both a former and a present student:

I hope you’re having a great first day of the school year! Last night as [my former student] B and I were processing her going to high school and working through the anxiety that comes with that she was commenting on how there will never be another year like seventh grade. We talked about Mr. Doud and what he shared with the staff [when he spoke with teachers and the school board–the mom’s currently the board chair–earlier this month] and she said, “That’s Mr. Jacobs.” She really appreciated your style, humor, willingness to joke with her, and make a huge impact on her life. I just wanted to share that with you. And of course…she told [her little sister in my class this year] S that she was so lucky to have you. Thank you for being the teacher that B will always think highly of and who made a positive impact on her life. Have a great year!

Summer is winding down.

H has taken well to occasional bottle feedings (we’re preparing for our gigs at the end of this month), and is starting to smile and grin more, and to sleep longer hours during the night. N has been super cooperative and helpful and really into The Little House in the Big Woods. She liked The Mouse and the Motorcycle earlier this summer, and then tolerated Ribsy, but this book is a favorite. In our first two days of reading, we covered over 100 pages. The last two nights haven’t been so heavy, though, since she’s fallen asleep rather quickly and early.

Sure, there’s work, like laundry, dishes, cleaning up, and so on, but at the moment I have no other projects on heating burners. Maybe it’s partly because the garden has all at once found itself in a lull, or maybe my head cold has me in slow motion, or else it’s the loomation of school just ahead, but I’m not really in to doing things, these past couple days.

I’m excited for school, actually. I’ve already been doing some of the groundwork for the year, and today a friend who is also a teacher came out to swap activities ideas. I’ve made an “about me” photo slideshow that’s accompanied by music by my band. I think I’ll have it play in the background during parent night next week, and I’ll also show it to my students on the first day of school.

After that, it will be off to waivered accountability.

“May I go to my locker when the 3:07 bell rings?” L asked me this afternoon (seventh graders aren’t released until 3:09).

“No,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because right now it’s 3:08,” I said. “That bell’s already rung.”

“Alright,” she said, and returned to her desk.