Let's Take It From the Top

Much has happened during the weeks since my last post. My mom and I took our vacation in Washington and enjoyed the relaxing effect of being away from the bustle of our workplaces. After getting back, I finished my remaining hours of work for my school bill and got a few extra in for the pocket. And now, with registration only 2 1/2 hours away and my dear sister four months away, I'm taking the last few moments of summer to type my last post before the school year starts.

Vacation time this year found my mom and I driving north through Oregon on our way to Young Disciple Camp in Washington. Our first night on the road we just managed to find our campsite in the middle of the barren wastelands of eastern Oregon long after sunset. Internet directions, we found, didn't always provide the exact mileages. After having supper on a picnic table that collapsed under us before we were done, we went and enjoyed the main attraction of the campground: hot springs.

We arrived in Inchilium, Washington several days later, having visited some old friends on the weekend and seeing some of Idaho. I settled into the rigors of YD camp, having fun in canoeing class taught by my distant relative Matt Boyd (yes he was there too), gobbling the food - including an unscheduled dose of cashew sauce -, playing my trumpet in orchestra, and deep-frying plantains in Mr. Arnold's Missionary Adventures class (shhh, don't tell anybody!). I also gained some valuable insights from the Deep Bible Study classes taught by Mr. Prewitt.

Mom and I stayed a few extra days visiting my cousin and then we headed back to the Golden State, with Mr. Boyd riding in the backseat. On the way we saw the giants of the Cascade range - Rainier, Jefferson, Adams, Bachelor, Shasta - and we stopped by the gorgeous Crater Lake.
Finally we rolled back onto campus close to midnight and spent the rest of our vacation time recuperating.

So there's the scoop. School starts tomorrow and I'll be on final approach for graduation. This shouldn't be the last you hear of me, as it's likely that Ms. Chi will give us blogging assignments again. Then those funny little assignment numbers will be back on my titles. Changes continue to occur and you never know, maybe in a year or two I might need to change the name of this blog to The Flying Yankee. We'll see.

For now, best wishes, and over and out.

The Flying Dutchman.

What Does That Say?

With every new job comes new skills and experiences. For my summer job, the draft board assigned me to Grounds for two hours in the morning and the Weimart for the rest of the day. A week after getting out of school, I reported for duty and began learning the ropes.

There is always a challenge involved in starting a new job. Grounds work is a bit more self-explanatory, but creating invoices, stapling the right papers together, and knowing just what to say to an upset customer who's order I had nothing to do with was a bit trickier. But after a couple weeks of shipping orders, cashiering, and talking on the phone with long-winded customers I felt reasonably settled in.

I survived inventory and store work finally started becoming routine. One day I set to work on filling a row of bulk containers. Setting the half-empty jar of baking powder on the counter I cast my glance about the room searching for the refill. Ah, there's a sack with the brand name EnerG. I unhurriedly scooped the white powder into the container while I remembered the unpleasant sour taste that the EnerG baking powder had imparted to a batch of waffles. Closing the lid on the very full jar, I turned to seal the sack. My gaze rested on the product name just below the brand: Egg Replacer. Oh no! Five pounds of mixed egg replacer and baking powder was now headed for the trash can.

More recently I was getting ready to bag some bulk foods, so I diligently set about preparing the bagging area. One of the store workers keeps a spray bottle with grapeseed extract for disinfectant instead of a chemical cleaner. Grabbing a spray bottle on the counter I carefully scrubbed down the work surface, not noticing the powerful odor rising into the air. I set down the bottle, ready to get to work when I happened to see the label scrawled in red marker. Not again. As I frantically scrubbed the counter with water, my boss walked by and asked, "Did somebody spray the Deer-Away?"

I can take away one good lesson from these two incidents: Always read the labels. There is absolutely nothing that can be lost from double-checking. At the very least it will save me from ruining someone's baking or trying to clean with a rotten egg base deer deterrant. In spiritual matters the same lesson applies. Sometimes what appears to be something good may be a close counterfeit. And maybe the only clue exposing its true identity is written on the label.

Look! An Airplane

The Flying Dutchman has been at it again! I'd finally had enough of being stuck to the ground, so I scheduled another intro flying lesson at the Auburn airport. (I had already taken two one-time introductory flying lessons.) But I was getting desperate. Finding a good excuse to spend the money turn up in a grade report from W.A., I headed down to the airport with my two sisters and a friend.

Arriving at the Auburn Municipal Airport, a small airport stuffed full of private airplanes, I led my companions along to the flying school and let myself soak in the experience. I met my instructor - the third I've had - and let him pore over the whole 1.3 hours of flight time recorded in my logbook. I asked him the fateful question.

"Could we work on patterns today?" I queried.

"Sure. We'll go down to Lincoln to practice takeoffs and landings because it has a longer runway and less tricky winds," he replied, apparently unphased about letting a kid with almost no flight time try to land a plane with him in it. I beamed and off we went to preflight the Piper Warrior and get airborne. Peter, my sister's friend climbed in the back seat to take video. Several minutes later, the Hobbs meter (a sort of mileage counter that adds up minutes instead of miles) was running and we were in the air.

After I took the plane off, I followed my instructor's directions to the Lincoln airport. As we got close, Dennis my instructor took the controls and did one touch-and-go to show me how it was supposed to look like. Then, putting his hands in his lap he gave me control of the plane.

"Now it's your turn." Peter, you have no idea what kind of a ride you're in for. And you'd better be recording! Flying downwind, I followed the instructions Dennis gave me and began preparing the plane for landing. Throttle back. A notch of flaps. Turn to the base leg.

"Keep the nose down so the airspeed doesn't drop." Forward on the yoke. Another notch of flaps. Turning on final, the beautiful sight of the runway came in front of me. Last notch of flaps.

Moving the controls back and forth, I tried to keep the plane aligned with the runway as breezes shifted my plane back and forth. Another hundred feet to go. Dennis came on the intercom again, telling me just what to do to put the plane on the ground smoothly.

"Start looking at the end of the runway now and level off. Now pull the throttle out." I flew several feet above the runway and let the engine idle. Hold it off, hold it off. Thump! I had landed a plane for the first time.

"Good. Now steer back to the centerline and we'll take off again." Three landings later I was taxiing back to the ramp at Auburn Municipal. After refueling the plane and letting poor Peter back into the fresh air, we walked back to the flying school. I presented my prized logbook to Dennis and I watched happily as he jotted down the figures: climbs, descents, turns, pattern work, 4 takeoffs and landings, . . . 1.0 hour. He signed the entry, and handing it back to me he remarked, "You have a natural aptitude for flying. Not many students are out there doing touch-and-gos on their third lesson!"

Those words put a perfect end to a perfect day of flying. It's still awhile until I earn my wings, but a lesson here and there makes the wait much more endurable. This is the Flying Dutchman descending for landing on his bed. Goodnight.

To Meet Once More

I am a natural pack-rat, saving each and every item that I "might need" later on. Recently I was going through my letter collection in an effort to free up some more closet space. Opening the box, I began wading through mementos dating all the way back to my eighth birthday. This was my second time through the box and I was having a lot more success. Envelopes, cards that only had the sender's signature in them, and old subscription offers from Plane & Pilot magazine - all found themselves in the waste basket.

As I opened one particular christmassy card, I noticed the signature on the bottom. The card was from my first boss, a kind lady who had offered my friend and I a job after seeing our ad for trash hauling. Starting when I was about eleven, my Stephan and I weeded her yard, took out her trash, and made fresh vegetable juice each morning. She was always fond of us and though we were paid by the hour, she never failed to through in a bonus at the end of each week.

Then her visits to Rhode Island grew longer and finally I found out she was leaving for good. My boss was dying of cancer. One last stay and then she left, this time taking her cat. Several months later she died.

As I glanced over the card, remembering the fun times Stephan and I had working for our boss, the first sentence in the message jumped out at me. Hope to see you again quite soon! The words, written to let me know she was coming to visit, suddenly took on a deeper meaning. Jesus is coming soon. Sin and suffering don’t have much time left to do their damage and soon Christ will return. We will be reunited with loved ones and friends and this time it will be for good.

In that moment, the greatest event in the universe’s history seemed so near. God wants us to remember that our time here is really short. His words blend with my boss’s words as they echo the hope-filled reassurance, Hope to see you again quite soon!

Here We Go!

When school has ended, and the textbooks have been turned in, and the loads of graded homework burned, must the writing stop? The prudent will learn at least one thing from school – skills acquired and honed during the educational process are meant for life after school. It is my pleasure to inform you that what you are reading is now my very own blog. Summer has arrived, English class is done, and you won’t be seeing a funny little number in parenthesis at the end of each post title. My goal is to keep it updated. Nice idea isn’t it. Feel free to post a reminder comment if I forget to write. As I always say, “An old blog is a boring blog.” Keep your eyes peeled – The Flying Dutchman isn’t gone yet!

Promotion Time (36)

It's almost over. School year 07/08 is drawing to a close as the students prepare to go through finals week. Graduation invitations have been sent out, tickets home have been booked, and the last blogging assignments are being written. Juniors are anxious to be promoted to the coveted rank of seniors, and seniors are about to arrive at the bottom of the pecking order once more.

Here are my parting words to this year's batch of smartened cookies. We've had a great year. Campouts, choir trips, field trips, and S.A. socials are some of the fun memories we all share. But even the homework and sometimes boring classes paid off in the satisfaction that every student felt at least once when they saw a red "A" scrawled over their assignment.

A few words of wisdom for the classes: Freshmen, remember that it only gets better next year as you advance up the ladder. Sadly, it is true even at W.A. that freshmen get picked on the most. Sophomores, this year may have been busy, stressful, and jam-packed with homework. But being a junior won't be any easier. Enjoy! Juniors, it's all downhill from here (That's just my theory, but if those clowns graduating this year made it, it should be doable.) Seniors, you were a fun-loving bunch and it definitely brightened up the school. If you transfer some of your enthusiasm to studying, you'll do just fine in college. Good luck!

I express my sincere appreciation to my teachers and the neat staff of W.A. Since you always are involved with the students, we've all gotten to know you outside of the classroom. Mr. Boyd, always loving an adventure, Ms Jenkins telling the wildest true stories, Ms Chi promoting NPR, and Ms Polk and her "little" endearing terms.

W.A. is a special school because of the people that make it up. No amount of government grants and subsidies could have made Weimar what it is. Weimar Academy has truly changed lives and in turn changed the world. Let us uphold the tradition. And one day soon, friends, students, teachers, and staff alike will gather around the Throne and sing "Side by Side".

When Today Becomes Tomorrow (35)

Ask a ten year-old if five years seems like a long time and most likely you'd get an answer saying it would take forever for that amount of time to elapse. Indeed, back in elementary school I never imagined I'd be 17 years old and a junior in high school. But strangely enough it happened, and even as I tap the letters on the keyboard I am on the verge of becoming a senior. When (and if) 2013 arrives, what will my life be like? Perhaps it will look something like this:

Nearly four years of college will be behind me and I'll be getting ready to graduate with some sort of a Balchelor's degree. Maybe I'll have gained my education in the recently resurrected Weimar College or maybe I'll be packing up my dorm room at Andrews University. By that time I'll have had a bit more practice producing videos and hopefully I'll have put my backpacking equipment to good use. I'll be looking for a job related to my college degree (maybe a high school Chemistry teacher) so that I can start earning money to take flying lessons.

My formal education will be almost behind me and I'll be getting ready to launch off into the work of mission aviation somewhere in the jungles of someplace. My writing will have further matured through college and my portfolio will have a good amount of published articles in it. Eventually I will be starting up a column in a mission magazine that chronicles my mission pilot experiences.

Maybe at that time I'll start thinking of getting a driver's license. Since I was living at home while attending W.C., insurance just wasn't worth it and my bicycle sufficed for everything except town trips. But the airport is an hour bike ride away, so a car would come in handy. These are some of the possibilities and only the Lord knows what will transpire in the next five years. We may not be here that long. Or we may. One thing is certain; time is relentless.

The individual hardships and joys of days gone past are forgotten as a person grows older. And just as I never imagined I would someday be a high school student, it's hard to imagine that the Lord's coming will really happen. But it will. And even the seemingly long years of a lifetime will fade into insignificance when that small black cloud the size of a man's fist appears on the horizon. Only the blink of an eye separates today from eternity.

Spring Break (33)

As you can see I'm back, after a prolonged period of silence from a lack of blogging assignments. Spring Break was great; while my fellow classmates were sweltering down in Nicaragua I was enjoying the balmy spring-time climate of Southern California with Corey. During the week I was down there we rode horses and bikes, stayed up late, and even got an airplane ride with a man we met at the local airport. It was over all too soon, and I found myself back home. The following week I puttered around the house, finally starting a project I'd been eyeing for a while - dismantling the LEGO collection in my cupboard and packing away each set in individual Zip-loc bags. This gave me opportunity to relive the many happy hours I spent with those toys. Yes I am getting old.

Speaking of getting old, I observed my birthday this year by going to the IMAX with Maria and a couple friends. I have never seen such an amazing representation (it was 3D) of astronauts on the Moon. The film Magnificent Desolation is truly a must-see for anyone who'd enjoy an adventure. I think it would be appropriate for me to say that I had a blast.

I go an extra day of unanticipated freedom when the mission trip people got delayed on their way back from Central America. When break finally ended I visited the WeiBlog sight to see what was happening in the world of blogospheres and found out I must tell my readers several lessons I learned on break. Here are two that I can recall: (1) Prevent the horse from eating on the trail or else both you and him won't go anywhere, and (2) Sleep deprivation during break defeats the whole purpose of vacation. That's all the wisdom I can pull off my tired brain right now. So with that I sign off again; you'll be hearing from me after my English research paper is finished.

Heads, You Win - Tails, I Lose (34)

An article in the Sacramento Bee brought up a case in which a compulsive gambler has filed suit against several casinos, claiming they should have recognized her addiction and barred her from the casinos. Arelia Taveras, a former lawyer and TV commentator, was staying up for days at a time without eating or sleeping so she could gamble. Now, having lost her practice, apartment, parents' home, and being $58,000 in debt to the IRS, Taveras is suing for $20 million.

Naturally, questions arise regarding cases like this. Who's to blame for Taveras' addiction and her resulting financial ruin? That's a difficult one because both parties are at fault to a large degree. The gambling business' single purpose is to make losing seem attractive and exciting. (See Eric Schlosser, Fast Food Nation) It's really a criminal enterprise, yet it will remain in society along with alchohol and tobacco. That's where responsibility for the individual comes in. At some point, a person realizes they have become addicted to something; then it is their choice to seek help or face the consequences.

Should Taveras be suing? It's a dicey situation lacking an evident answer. Taveras should have sought help before reaching that critical helpless state. The casinos should have noticed her passing out at the tables and intervened. However, I believe Taveras lacks the grounds to file suit. As the saying goes, "If you play with the fire, you're going to get burned," likewise if you play the gambling game and end up losing, you really only have yourself to blame.

$20 million in compensation would definitely sort out financial problems for Taveras, but she shouldn't count on winning the case. Probably her best way out is to direct her determination into hard work instead of court battles. Sometimes the choices we make affect us for years. This is an excellent example of why gambling isn't worth it. But sometimes the only way people will realize the fire is hot, is to first burn themselves with it.

Today: Tomorrow's Yesterday (31)

Have you ever noticed that the experiences and happenings of a year get simplified and generalized as time progresses? I associate the year 2004 with green cards. 1998 was the year we moved to the States. As you zoom out and start looking at larger time periods you generalize even more, perhaps describing the first ten years of your life as sheltered, happy, and relaxed. Those of you who've been around a bit longer, or have been reading too many history books, may "associate the '50s with prosperity and conservatism; the 1960s with social upheaval, experimentation, and war; the 1970s with self-examiniation; the 1980s with prosperity and decadence." (Weiblog home. Prompt 31.) What will my generation be associated with as time stereotypes and generalizes?

The 90s started the Information Age, as personal computers and the Internet gained popularity. Then there was that whole Y2K scare. And now the 21st century has dawned and young people are starting to use less and less of their brains. Perhaps my generation will later be seen as the generation of teens who lacked nothing, and had everything done for them they could possibly imagine. Maybe we will be seen as the generation that finally lost the ability - and even desire - to think for themselves. Or maybe we'll be viewed as the generation of Lazy Gluttons.

I really do sound gloomy. But times just get worse as we get farther along. It's called entropy, and it's a scientific principle. Looking back, years down the line, we will see how parents' lack of discipline for their children has impacted the history of this world. Technology and information aren't bad. They've just gotten the better of us.

The Last Shutdown (32)

During 8th grade someone gave me a laptop, complete with built-in speakers and microphone, modem card, floppy drive and Windows 95. It was a wonder! For a short time I used it to do stuff like type up top-secret documents. After a while I got tired of using nothing but Paint, QBASIC and WordPad. After letting it sit in my desk drawer for a few months I decided to take it out and see what the inside of a dinosaur computer looked like. And of course after taking it apart, I couldn't be bothered to put it back together again. My computer slept comatose for the next several years until more recently I tried to repair it, in a desperate attempt to recover one of those "top-secret" documents. For one last spectacular moment, I managed to revive the tired machine long enough to retrieve the file. Then my lovely old laptop breathed its last.

My English teacher just gave me a wonderful opportunity to pay a final tribute to my aged laptop by having me post a eulogy. To my faithful laptop:

Thank you for your dedicated service to me during our short time together. You helped me express my thoughts and then held onto them for me. Although you weren't that bright, and your memory was limited, I could always here you humming as you worked. You possessed many fine qualities, being accurate, organized, ready to listen, good at keeping secrets, and as quick as your slow thinking could allow you to be. You have lived a full life, having seen ten generations. I must apologize for ending your life in such a tragic way. Your final moments however, were truly your finest; right up until the end you gave, holding nothing back. I hope I have somehow expressed the true spirit of a laptop computer. I bid you a fond farewell as you leave for that better place that all good laptops go to.

Years Gone By (30)

I must say that the year 2007 has been my best year so far. I live for events and trips, and last year I had my share of trips. In February I traveled with the Academy to Kauai to help Kahili Mountain Park and Adventist School with some much-needed grounds work. Afterward, we visited Oahu to do some sightseeing. The trip was a blast and the hard work made it all the more enjoyable. One sour note punctuated the end of the trip; my good friend Corey was leaving, not to return to W.A. But that's how my next adventure developed. After staying at my house for the college and academy graduations, Corey invited me down to his house. So a couple weeks later I walked up the stairs in Sac Intl Airport, through security, and into a new state of independence; I was traveling all by myself! For the next week Corey and I rode bikes, swam at the pool, and practically killed ourselves hiking the 25 miles up and down 11,499 ft San Gorgonio. I had a great time with the Harms and it was with reluctance that I bade them farewell and climbed aboard the plane for home.

But the year was far from over. My sister Rachel returned from China a couple weeks later with just enough time to unpack, repack, and then leave again - this time for Europe for our family vacation! Visiting my grandparents in the Netherlands, we traveled around the country, seeing various museums, touring the canals, and of course shopping. My uncle and I embarked on a 2-day cycling trip from the center of Holland to Groningen in the north. I won't easily forget that trip, with the smell of fresh-cut hay from the fields making my nose run uncontrollably, the
tremendous fatigue after cycling 90 miles in one day, and most memorably, the beautiful Dutch countryside rolling slowly by. The rest of of our time abroad we spent in Wales, returning to London to do some sightseeing and catch our plane home.

Things slowed down after returning home. I worked the rest of the summer, preparing breakfast at the cafe at 5:30 a.m., enjoying making fun of Carsten every time he had to make more garlic feta dressing, and eating raisin bread at breakfast each morning. School arrived with all its inconveniences and character-building circumstances. Thanksgiving and Christmas slipped by in close succession and before I knew it, 2007 was nearly over. As the clock ticked its way toward 12:00, I felt a twinge of sadness. I didn't want 2007 to end. Remembering all the fun times of the past year, I wished I could grab onto those last seconds that were quickly slipping through my hands. But then I realized that greater things are in store for the future. So with a light heart and the anticipation of new adventures to come, I stepped into the brand new year.

Imagine if . . . (29)

Okay, here's the background (don't ask me where this prompt came from!): It's my first time back at the grocery since the manager, in a not-so-kind manner, told me never to bring my kids (this is definitely fiction) into his store again. I'm secretly relieved to have to leave them home with my spouse.Thirty minutes later, I return home--without groceries. Egg yolk is dripping from my hair, chocolate syrup is smeared across my shirt, and smashed produce is sticking to my shoes. What happened?

Well, it went like this: Some deranged customer got mad at me for a really silly reason. I was just wheeling the cart to the checkout, when this man suddenly got extremely angry at me for getting a good spot in line ahead of him. Unable to control himself, he picked up the first thing he could find - a fresh egg - and hurled it at my cranium. What happened after that is a blur of events that I couldn't quite follow in the excitement of the moment. The next thing I knew, people were throwing food at each other, someone was stomping on chocolate syrup bottles and food was everywhere! I was trying to make a dash for the bathroom when the manager suddenly showed up. Recognizing me, he immediately concluded that I was the source of this chaos and his face turned red, then purple.
"Get out of my store! You're even worse without your kids! Don't ever come here again; your business is NOT welcome." With that he seized my arm and dragged me out the door, without even allowing me to buy my groceries. And that's how I arrived home minus the groceries and wearing the remains of my ordeal. Maybe I'll just try ordering my groceries online from now on.

Top Secret: Do Not Read (28)

Censorship – a controversial word that brings to mind images of Communist officers rifling through books and writings, looking for forbidden material. The tables seemed to have turned as of late. In an increasingly dangerous world filled with terrorists, the governments of such free countries as the U.S. are removing freedoms to protect the security of the people. But certain questions start coming up when this is done. One of them involves censorship; should it be allowed, and if so how much? Freedom of the press has long been argued in the U.S. and it has stood as a symbol of the free world. But when the government has unlimited access to personal emails, simple or not-so-simple opinions become dangerous to the individual expressing them. Depending on what you write, you never know when government agents will come swarming into your house. Yes censorship is definitely becoming a problem. There are always going to be a few nutcases that write the stupidest things; a few terrorists do get caught as well by their incriminating messages. But these isolated cases are eventually going to make it such that opinions can’t be freely expressed anymore. Opinions will become national threats. Right now, it is still possible to chew out the government without getting in trouble. But add a few key words like “blow up”, “A l Kyduh”(just making sure I don't get arrested!), and other such terrorist-linked words and you’ll be serving time. After a while, other individuals may be targeted, as new kinds of “threats”. It’s a slippery slope that gets steeper and steeper, terminating in a cliff looking over empty space devoid of a Constitution.

What did you say? (27)

I’ve been hired to write a dictionary of phrases and words that my peers and I often use. (So where’s the money?) Here are a few words that a person starts hearing over and over again at W.A.

Like - adv. : The universal gap-filler of teenage conversation. Can be inserted into almost any part of the sentence to substitute for harder-to-find words. “I was like…” “It’s like this…” “He like didn’t know what to like say…”

Dang-it : Euphemistic expression directly derived from a much stronger phrase. Used to express frustration. Not the best phrase as it sounds almost exactly like its unholy relative.

Cool - adj. : Common descriptive adjective used by almost every American teen that can be used to describe almost anything pleasing or satisfying.

Go Levi! : Not really sure how this phrase originated, but Marshall says it a lot. Overall, it seems to enhance the morale at W.A.

Stranded In Comfort (26)

Here’s a good one: If you were to be stranded on a deserted island for ten years and you were allowed to bring one item from each of these categories – a book, person, CD, food item, drink item, piece of clothing, and one miscellaneous item – what would you pack? Here’s my list of what I would bring:

Book: Boat-building for Dummies

Person: A ship captain

CD: Any CD would be perfect; the signaling qualities of a disc’s reflective side are stupendous.

Food item: My sister’s vegan cheesecake; no particular reason except the exquisite flavor.

Drink item: Water. It’s just the best beverage out there.

Piece of clothing: A robe from a Sahara nomad. It’s bound to get hot and I want to keep cool.

One miscellaneous item: A large tree. How else am I going to build my boat?

Okay, there are a few flaws in my list. First of all I’m supposed to be on the island for ten years. Naturally I would be picked up afterwards, so the items I bring are just to keep me busy. My book and lovely large tree would be useless (I'd still need a saw and nails anyway). Of course I could use t the pages to make paper airplanes and climb the tree to fly them . . . Here then are the things I would change on my list:

Book: 1001 Things To Do When Stranded

Person: An expert desert-island farmer – to provide the eats.

CD: The Bible and Ellen White’s Writings – for spiritual sustenance.

One miscellaneous item: Solar-powered laptop with Microsoft Flight Simulator pre-loaded onto it. With it I’d be able to read the books on the CD as well as keep my instrument flying skills sharp.

T'is the Year After Christmas (25)

It’s good to be back at the keyboard blogging away. Let me bring you up-to-date as to what happened over break – if I can remember. Ah yes, a number of interesting things happened over break, one of them being the arrival, and of course the inevitable subsequent departure, of Christmas day. I got some much needed R&R, and I continued to take calls at the Welcome Center a few hours a day. Socialization on campus was out of the question as every young person had fled the grounds for Christmas break and un-vegan gastronomics. I stayed home to keep company with my mom’s delectable Dutch apple pie (perfectly vegan and loaded with sugar) and the computer.

Yes, a number of exotic locations were graced by my virtual presence as I flew my simulated aircraft all over the world through Microsoft Flight Simulator. I did manage to get out and see some people, however, on New Year’s Eve at a church social in Meadow Vista. Maria and I thoroughly enjoyed Mr. Cullinan’s group games. I again indulged in the foolishness of staying up till midnight to watch the Old Year transform into the New through the passing of a single second. Christmas break was far from sensational for me, but I definitely enjoyed the respite from the frenzied life at W.A.

It’s back to the grind, but variety is indeed the “spice of life”. Breaks get equally as old as school does. One day all the Scotch broom behind the house will be pulled and nothing will be left to do if vacations were to continue forever. I am ready to return to the institution of learning, to continue furthering my education. Tighten your backpack straps; here we go!