Pick

During the past week, friends from Colby have emailed me two items about the icon of Colby Community College, Dr. Max Pickerill. Pick is 82 years old and this semester marks his 100th semester of teaching. Pick's been a teacher for 58 years. I fully expect the man to die either in his office, or in his beloved classroom.

Pick wasn't only a colleague of mine, he was also my teacher many years ago. I didn't need Chemistry, I already had my science credits; but I decided to take chemistry anyway, just to be able to say that I was once one of Picks students. I took General Chem.

Pick was in his early 60's then. He looked much the same as he does now, oh, maybe he was a little taller. But his hair still hasn't grayed and he was an ornery then as he is now.

I remember watching in disbelief as he lit up a cigarette using the Bunsen burner while he lectured. I remember loving his lectures. Why? Because he related Chemistry to everything!

Let's see what I remember...

I remember him explaining why heaven was hotter than hell. He stood there, and quoted scripture to us describing where heaven is. Then, using the ever-present chalk, he wrote down equations showing heaven's location in relation to the sun. Then, he reminded us that Hell was simply fire and brimstone. Brimstone is sulfur. And Sulfur burns at... (I don't remember that part). Therefore, heaven, with it's location charted out and it's local related to the sun was actually hotter than burning sulfur. Oh, yes, and...if you happen to wind up in hell, don't ask for a drink of water, you'll explode. Pick ended that lecture by telling us that he told a preacher this fact once and was...kicked out of the church. (And Pick is a PK, a preacher's kid!)

Another lecture centered around the structure of atoms, with the nucleus in the center with the electrons in orbit around it. Then Pick asked us what the solar system looked like...an atom. He told us that scientists who didn't believe in God couldn't see the evidence in front of their faces--the same design of an atom and the solar system.

Pick also used to do a magic show. He'd do parts of it in class and bring out different elements to show us different reactions. He had a chuck of sulfur and one of phosphorus in their glass jars filled with water and kerosene. He'd tell us about their instability and then show us. He'd also share stories about previous students who "borrowed" some and dropped it in Villa High Lake, or in toilets, or in sinks... I remember him turning water into wine. I know phenothaline (probably spelled wrong) was involved and he'd chew phena-mint gum and then spit into his "water" mixture. It would turn purple and then he'd add some more water and turn it clear again. I wish I could remember exactly what he used, but I can't. But I remember loving it when he'd "experiment" like that in class.

When I was a student there, Max (Pick) was invited by NASA to come watch a shuttle liftoff. This was in 1982 or 1983, before the Challenger blew up. It was an honor for him to be invited. He went and had the time of his life.

I remember his poster. It was of a bathing beauty, but her measurements were given in metric. Pick had that poster hanging up for years--until one of our Dean's made him take it down because someone might decide to sue him and the college for sexual harassment. That would have been the least of Picks potential charges for sexual harassment. The man liked women...and he liked sex. He always said what he thought. Now, it bothered him if he upset anyone. But Pick is so straightforward and outspoken that he just said things without thinking.

Picks biggest influence on me was when he called me a dumb ass. Yes, he, my teacher, called me a dumb ass. Hey, I deserved it. We were taking a test, balancing equations. Pick was walking around between our desks looking at our work. He paused at my desk, pointed at an equation, and said "what's 5 times 2, dumb ass, fix it!"

No it didn't offend me. Because it was a dumb mistake. But, Max is Max. When he's gone, CCC will lose many many students. I can't tell you how many kids come to Colby just to take a class from Max. Max has been wooed by NASA, many big companies, and by many government departments. He was an early leader in alcohol fuel production in the 1970's. He could have left Colby several times over but always chose to stay. Why? Because he loved teaching and he loves his students. He's on campus every morning, drinking coffee, still smoking, visiting with his students before class, after class, after school at night. He gets to know those in his classes and even those who never set foot in the Chemistry lab. He's simply an icon.

Congrats Max on teaching 100 semesters. You're one of a kind and I love you.

Chick days

Spring is right around the corner. I know this because it's "Chick days" at Orschlens, the local farm & ranch supply store. What this means is, it's time to get baby chicks!

I stopped by last night while waiting for Kev to finish at work. They had several chicks in already and are taking orders. All the watering supplies are out, feeders are out, feed is on sale, chicks cheeping, heat lamps hanging... I wanted to just grab up 20 or so chicks and head for home. But I didn't.

Kev and I have to build a chicken house, and I'm still not sure what kind of chickens I want to get.

There's Plymouth Barred Rocks

I started out with Barred Rocks. I like Barred Rocks, they are hearty, big chickens who lay good sized eggs. And, they tolerate the heat and the cold well. But,they are a little snooty.

Then, there's Rhode Island Reds.

I got RIR's for the first time last year. I really liked them. I had 2 broody hens who actually hatched chicks...no, none of them actually made it, but that was more my fault for not being ready and having a place for them. My RIR's were more...personable too. They liked me better than those snooty Barred Rocks.

Then, I've also had some Americanas.

Americanas lay those blue and green eggs. They are pretty chickens with small combs. Now, I only had one hen survive, and she was very timid. And, when I bought and paid for Americana pullets, I got 5 roosters. Roosters don't lay blue or green eggs. While they were really pretty birds, they were...Randy, and never left the hen's alone. So, I don't know if I want to try Americana's again.

Decisions, decisions.

Right now, I'm leaning toward 10 RIR's and 10 Americana's. I'm planning to order chicks (or pick some up) on Saturday. I can't wait.

12 years ago...

Yesterday was Miss Kat's birthday. She's now 12.

Yesterday, I thougt about posting and waxing poetically about my day 12 years ago when she was born and how wonderful it was and how happy we were to have her join our small, happy family.

But that was yesterday. Today, she's annoyed me once too often to think about how happy we were when she was born. Instead, I remember that she was born mad, and is still mad, 12 years later.

And, yes, she WAS born mad. She was induced, and evidently, she absolutely did not want to be born yet. She still likes things done her way and in her own time. It's enough to drive me mad. She's the reason I have gray hair. She really is.

Today, instead of the baby who liked to laugh and giggle at her big brother and her daddy, I'm remembering the baby who refused to sleep in a crib and would only sleep when laying on my chest or her father's chest. We'd get her to sleep, put her down and she'd wake up...mad, no furious. So, we'd pick her up and hold her. Maybe some would consider that we spoiled her. We thought then, and still think, that it was self preservation. We could get sleep ourselves if we held her. If not, it was a very long night. Voice of experience there. Believe me, we both wanted to sleep in our bed and not take turns on the couch holding the little red-headed monster.

Today, 12 years after her birth, she still knows exactly what buttons to push. She knows how to drive me insane (and her father and brother too.) Kev and I often say that if Miss Kat would have been our first born, she'd have been an only child.

Don't get me wrong. I like the fact that she's got a strong personality and that she can and does stand up for herself, and she won't be led around by peer pressure...she'll be busily creating peer pressure for others not to succumb to it herself. But, I've got to admit, that living with such a strong personality is not easy.

So, for today I won't remember the sweet smile and the cuddles and snuggles that she's rapidly outgrowing. I'll remember those another day. Cause right now, the beast that lies inside that small petite body and behind those brilliant blue eyes is winning the war. Today, I completely understand why some animals eat their young.

A matter of interpretation

The kids didn't have school yesterday. So, being the good parents that we are, Kev and I left them a list of chores to have done by the time we got home. We weren't too optimistic about them actually getting done, because last Friday, they also didn't have school, and we also left a list of chores to be done when we got home. Those chores were important, because we wanted to leave town and had to make sure all animals were cared for with lots of food and water before we left. It wasn't done. Kev and I spent 45 minutes finishing chores that the kids should have done.

We weren't happy.

So, we tried again yesterday. We left a list and lectured about how they--the kids--needed to do much better than they had done on Friday. And, actually, they did really well on the chores. Andy had finished his chores. Kat still had stuff to pick up in the Living Room. She argued with us about it. Cause, when I got home I said...

"Kat, you haven't picked up the living room yet."

"Yes I did."

"Then why are those dirty dishes still on the end table and why are those shoes still on the floor and why is your stuff still on the couch, and why are your clean pants still on the stair rail? And, you didn't dust."

"You didn't say that I had to do all that stuff. You just said I had to vacuume and clean the Living Room, not pick everything up."

"Yes I did, it's in the note."

She then marches into the Kitchen and picks up the note and reads "Clean the Living room."

Her dad then asked..."so, what does CLEAN the Living Room mean?"

Kat replied, "dust and put everything away."

Kev said..."isn't that just what Mom said you didn't do?"

She marched out the room, making that humph sound that she does so well...

suspicions

There are two persons in my house who are female. I am one, and we all can figure out exactly WHO the other is...

Only one of the females in my house is old enough to wear makeup. The other isn't allowed to wear it until she's in 7th grade. But, somehow, this other person has managed to wear makeup at various times during her short life. One of these times was at a middle school dance. Now, I allowed makeup to the Halloween dance, because it was...well, it was Halloween.

I'm not a big makeup person. As I've gotten older, I've gotten lazy. Where I used to go the whole nine yards with foundation, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara and maybe even lip gloss, now I simply use eyeliner and mascara. I call it laziness. I just don't want to take the time to get all dolled up just for work. And, I'm married to a man who doesn't care if I get dolled up, so I don't.

On Friday morning, I applied my normal makeup of eyeliner and mascara and went off to work. The other female person who lives here didn't have school, so I left her behind at home. Her duty for the day was basically to get ready to go to Colby for a weekend trip. We left for our trip as soon as Kev and I got home from work. I packed our bag. The kids had already packed theirs. It was a good weekend. We returned home yesterday afternoon and I unpacked my bag. It was then that I discovered the missing eyeliner.

I didn't pack my eyeliner. I knew I wasn't going to wear makeup over the weekend, so I left the eyeliner and mascara on the sink, where they live. But, on our arrival at home, my eyeliner was missing.
It was not on the sink.
It was not on the floor.
It was not in my suitcase.
It was not in the trash.
It was not in the bathroom.
It was not in the bedroom.

It was lost. But...how could it get lost? Where could it be?

I asked the other female person...who denys ever seeing it. I asked Kev, who denied ever touching it. I didn't bother asking Andy, as he won't step foot near anything that looks like makeup.

Oh, I have my suspicions...but no proof.

I suspect that OTHER female person. I suspect that she "borrowed" it and lost it. Unfortunately, I also suspect that this other female person had earlier borrowed my brand new eyeliner pencil, as it is not in the drawer. It is so suspicious that both of my eyeliner pencils have disappeared on the same day...

But I'm not blaming anyone.

It's just suspicious.