Category: Certainties

Did you ever do that? Get 10 out of 10 on a clouds quiz in geography class then get docked a mark because the teacher thought you talked to the kid in the next row while the quiz was going on?  It happened to me.

The kid next to me knew nothing about clouds.  I knew everything about them because I’d listened to every word the teacher had said last period, and took notes.  This was back when I was still a good student.

And here I was, with this kid beside me, Brodie or something his name was, he didn’t even have pants on, nudging me kind of surreptitiously in the upper thigh with the index finger of his right hand.  Psst…

It’s grade five.  Brodie’s in short pants.

“Very good, Mr Strech,” the teacher said, announcing the results of the quiz.  She didn’t know my real name.  Neither did I.  “A perfect 10 out of 10. But you opened your mouth and spoke to the student on your left and that costs you 1 demerit.  9 out of 10 is your final score.”

It was Brodie who spoke to me.  I didn’t say a word.  Just looked at him.  So instead of getting the top mark in class I tied with Janie with 9 out of 10.  And the one she got wrong was “cirrus”.  I wonder what happened to Brodie.  And Janie.  Selkirk Elementary.  A good school and still is.

I was reminded of this life lesson last evening during that stunning display of all those streaky clouds way up there as things were heading on for dusk.

Things have gotten way more complicated since I was in grade five.  There’s about twelve thousand names for permutations of “cirrus” clouds these days just as there is with every other type of cloud formation but in those days it was simple.  Cumulo.  Cumulonimbus.  Nimbus.  Stratus.  Cumulostratus.  Cirrus etc.

10 out of 10.  The apogee, the apotheosis of my grade school career.  And a mark docked for talking during the quiz.  What a spectacle.  I took it like a boy.

Go ahead if you’d care to share some moment of clarity from your grade school days.  It’s Grade School Moments of Clarity all week here at samoyeddogs.

Spring’s awakening.  Jerusalem artichokes. They look like potatoes. Nubby new potatoes.  They don’t look like artichokes.  That was my first thought.

Jerusalem.  That was my second thought.  All the way from Jerusalem.  Cool.  Land of the Pharaohs.  Helianthus tuberosus.  Don’t take my word for it.

I love that town.  Love the sound of it.  How many times a day do you think, “I’ve gotta get to Jerusalem”?  None?  Zero?  Twenty?  Five?  Very seldom?  Almost never?  I know.  But wouldn’t it be great?  Here we are in downtown Jerusalem.  And the market stalls are full of Jerusalem artichokes. It’s crazy.  No telling what’s gonna happen here.

You can chop ’em up and roast ’em in the oven.  That’s one method that works pretty good.  They look like roasted potatoes.  They taste like artichokes, roasted. Sort of.

My camera broke down.  It only takes fuzzy pictures now.  ‘But not all our power is gone’.  This beautiful little camera that basically made me and made my career is now, apparently, going to cost more than it’s worth to fix.  How about that?  Stay tuned.  We’ll sort it out.

That was funny learning that the Jerusalem artichoke isn’t an artichoke, has never been to Jerusalem, and is basically a case of mistaken identity.  It’s a member of the darn sunflower family.  It’s gotta stop.  Now this.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

You know what?  There’s no mountains in England so you have to be careful about what you believe.  Wales maybe.  Prince of Wales.  And no.  There was no Jerusalem builded there either.

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariots of fire.

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green & pleasant Land.

Bill, it just didn’t happen.  Zilch.  Mandrake root?  Okay.  Mandrake root but there’s no Jerusalem artichokes in England unless somebody brought them there.  It wasn’t me.  Today’s lesson.  My old accounting prof was right.  Things can get confusing.

Jerusalem artichoke.  Sounds lovely.