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A Down Day

Sat, 5 Jul 2025, 02:30 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

Argyle Lake State Park, Illinois

There was the requisite morning coffee (full disclosure: coffee for us while camping is instant, which honestly does the job admirably). There were eggs and bacon. And unlike many mornings on these north-south treks, we had no need to immediately pack up for another day on the road, since the Fair and Industrious Trudy had booked a two-nighter.

The idea is this: instead of exclusively using the teardrop as a motel on wheels, instead of the usual arrive-unpack-eat-sleep-eat-pack-depart cycle which leaves no down-time at all these parks, instead of that, a two-nighter once in a while makes getting there indeed feel like part of the vacation. That was the idea, at least.

But in this case the park had little going for it, and our reserved site was soul- and shadeless, making two days in the summer heat under the direct sun seem more like punishment than relaxation. When making these reservations, sometimes you have photos of the sites to help you, and sometimes you just have to trust your luck. This time we drew the short straw. As we ate our breakfast, we discussed skipping the second night.

In the event, we stayed. Trudy walked down to the park host and got us a new site away from other campers (including the one with a continually-running diesel pickup next to the trailer). We set up under the canopy of a medium-sized Bur Oak that promised to shade us nicely all the next day. And so day-2 be a down-day.

Indeed, the day was so down that even sitting in the folding chairs on the green sward of grass and blooming clover with bees buzzing around was too strenuous. And there came a time when we returned to the trailer under the shade of the young tree. In that shade, with blue sky all around us, white clouds floating by, and sunlight dancing on the lawn, we crawled in and left the doors open wide. Izzy curled up between us. There, having absolutely nothing else to do, we fell gloriously asleep.

And it was only just after breakfast.

Life on the Mississippi

Fri, 4 Jul 2025, 11:30 AM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

Traveling from Pomme de Terre State Park in Missouri to Argyle Lake State Park in Illinois

1.

En route to Illinois, we chose a “scenic route” along the western shore of the Mississippi River. There were green dots along the road in our (yes) paper atlas. The narrow road twisted and turned. It passed thru green bottomlands of soybean and corn. It climbed up and down rolling hills — unexpectedly steep for our poor knowledge of eastern Missouri.

And then there was a blue sign by the side of the road.

It announced a scenic overlook. We slowed and turned into the forest to the right onto a two-rut road that climbed up the hillside. We muttered hopes that there would be a place at the top to turn around with the trailer, which of course there was. But there was in fact no scene to look out over. The forest had long since overgrown, and there was no hint of a valley, much less the mighty Mississippi. So without stopping, we drove around the loop, descended back thru the forest, turned back onto the road and continued on to Hannibal.

2.

Then we can to another blue sign with a right-pointing arrow, this one advertising a scenic overlook and a picnic table. So we slowed and again turned onto a two-rut road into the forest to the right.

We drove up the hill, this time confident of a turn-around. And indeed, at the top, there was a loop encircling a grassy knoll with a lone picnic table in the shade of two large Oaks. But again, there was no scene to see thru the overgrowth. 

Strike two. We continued on to Hannibal.

3. 

Yes. There was a third blue sign. I consulted with the Fair and Industrious Trudy, who said no, because by this time she had located Becky’s Ice Cream Shop and Emporium along the main drag in old town Hannibal. We continued on the road past the sign and descended into the Mississippi valley into Hannibal, Missouri, where there was a parking lot big enough for us and the trailer just off the main street.

Izzy and I found a bench in the shade across the street from the shop. Trudy walked over and got a cup of Huckleberry Chocolate ice cream. (This was Mark Twain’s Hannial, after all.)

Twenty minutes later, we were travelling northward again. But here’s the thing of it. Our scenic overlook and ice cream detours had put us sufficiently behind schedule that we really wanted to get going (never wanting to arrive after sunset to back in the trailer). And so although life on mainstream Hannibal a block away from the Mississippi River was thriving, we never did walk that one block over. And we never did go down to the river. And so while in Hannibal, we completely missed life on the Mississippi.

Fruiting Body

Fri, 4 Jul 2025, 10:53 AM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

In Michigan. On the hill. By the lake. In front of the cottage. The size of two softballs. Emerging from the ground where another fruiting body stood last year.

the fruiting body of some kind of fungus

What a “great” way to celebrate the fourth of July! 

Tyler State Park

Fri, 4 Jul 2025, 09:46 AM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

At Tyler State Park in North Texas on the first overnight on our northward trek.

Ants and Bee

I was sitting in a folding camp chair. On the ground in the dappled sun nearby, there was a flash of some sort. A fly or maybe a solitary bee was flopping in the dirt. Wait… that wasn’t it — the flopping bee was in a struggle with (I could barely see it from this distance) an ant. No… two ants. Make that three. Was the number of ants growing? Were others joining the melee?

To answer this pressing question, I continued to sit in that folding chair and watched a fourth ant wandering nearby the others. It seemed to be heading toward them, but then it passed the insectoidal struggle — missed it by that much. So no. Ants were not joining forces. But wait… the passer-by ant stopped, turned, and headed back. It missed the brawl again. Then stopped, turned back and forth in several directions, and headed directly into the fray.

So yes, the ant kingdom was indeed descending upon that hapless bee, whose flailing and flashing was by now slowing. The ants were getting the upper hand, and I couldn’t stay to watch the rest.

I stood up and walked away

Summer Breeze

Some time later, I somehow found myself in that folding camp chair again — viewing the land, enjoying the summer breeze. (This camp chair thing certain is a thing.)

A hummingbird was buzzing in the canopy of Oaks and alighted on a dead branch. It swiped its beak on its perch, first one way then the other. And then it came to attention. At guard, scanning the air in the distance. On guard for rivals.

Suddenly it swopped down from its perch, flying across the campsite to inspect a red bulb in the camp lights strung between two trees. It inspected the light closely, and then finding no nectar moved on to the next red bulbs down the line. Again finding no nectar and having exhausted the possibilities (as our string of lights is mercifully short), the hummingbird flew onto a nearby perch.

And after a few moments, it flew off into the forest.

Silent Sunday

Sun, 18 May 2025, 05:05 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

sedum between the rocks with one tiny white star-shaped blossom

#silentsunday

Silent Sunday

Sun, 11 May 2025, 04:24 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

closeup of a coneflower blossoming in our yard with an early evening sky in the background

#silentsunday

Silent Sunday

Sun, 27 Apr 2025, 06:10 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

yellow sedum and pink primrose blossoms

#silentsunday

Abraham’s Smirky Smile

Sat, 26 Apr 2025, 06:12 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

1. Precalculus

Abraham came to class every day, always on time. He paid close attention from his seat at the back of the room. He took notes. He wasn’t afraid to ask questions. He did the practice problems and meticulously showed his work. Still, his test scores were mediocre. He was putting in a huge effort, and as I found out from his mom, he was considering dropping down to grade-level next year. She asked me to help him decide what to do.

One day when he was in my room during lunch, I walked over and sat nearby. We talked about his schedule, about what he thought he might like to do after high school, and about how to go about choosing classes for next year. The conversation only obliquely touched on the question of advanced vs. grade-level. Mostly we discussed the various options.

A few weeks later he told me that he signed up for AP Precalculus. I smiled. He smiled his smirky smile. 

2. Early Fibonacci

That was months ago—January or February.

A week ago, as the due date for their Fibonacci Numbers Projects was nearing, he came into the room. This was a project for which they produced booklets about Fibonacci Sequences including excursions into nature and art and goings on in other parts of the world in Fibonacci’s time. It wasn’t a huge amount of technical work, but I had a very specific grading rubric, and I cautioned them not to be late. Abraham walked in, smiled at me from the doorway, and put his completed booklet into the purple turn-in box by the door.

“With a week to go, even!” I said.

“Right?” he said, smiling that smirky smile. 

3. Wrangling with Logs

We finish Advanced Algebra 2 with a unit on exponential functions and logarithms.

It needs to be said: logarithmic notation is horribly confusing. It’s unlike anything the kids have seen before. I tell them that and that they don’t need to feel bad if they get confused. We work into the subject incrementally. Still, many of the students struggle.

On Wednesday, Abraham came into class to turn in a worksheet that involved serious wrangling of logs. He turned it into the purple box. 

“Mr. Hasan?” he asked as he walked over to where I was standing at my desk.

“Yes?”

“Are we going to do more difficult log problems this year?” wearing that smirky smile.

I laughed and said, “No.”

It seems that his choice of AP Precalculus was the right decision.

Attendant Contagion

Thu, 17 Apr 2025, 08:46 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

There is perhaps good news in this unambiguous appeals court rejection of the White House. Written by seasoned conservative judge J. Harvie Wilkinson, each sentence burns with quote-worthy language suggesting that we ought not abandon hope, that the judicial branch might yet say no, recent tentative facilitating wishy-washy-ness from the Supreme Court notwithstanding.

I reveled in this:

…[public perception of the Executive’s] lawlessness and all of its attendant contagions

silent sunday

Sun, 6 Apr 2025, 11:54 AM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

#silentsunday

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