12.02.2004
"when the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock"
flashback to 1989 or so, my first year at n1nd3 s. w1ld3r elementary school. this was the same year it was decided that i was a genius and needed to be pooled with the genii in something called "advanced classes." ms. weinberg's class simply wasn't challenging enough for me, and all of the kids in her "regular" class were far to dumb to be concerned with anything besides their liz claiborne purses (you're in FOURTH GRADE, BITCHES!) and who was coming to their slumber party. nikki heiniger (sp?) was in that class, she moved that year to bolivia or something, thus giving up her "queen of the balloon barette and only girl in class with a boyfriend" crown to kr1st3n "that bitch i sometimes still run into" utl3y. anyway, on with the story...
that year, i had to play catch up with my spanish lessons. in ky, they started the kids young on learning the mexico-speak... this wasn't even an option back in rode hiland and ohio. so, i got to stay after school in the library with senora whatsherface to learn conjugation of verbs. one side-effect of my after-schooling was that i got to spend a lot of time around the resident "lie-burian," who worked in the "lie-bury," miss thelma something or other, maybe smith? anyway, she was quite the "red" individual, and i was a yankee, so her super-dee-serious accent floored me on numerous occassions. she was a bitch, too. oh, and bald! sometimes in the afternoons, when she figured everyone was gone, she would take her wig off and place it on its white styrofoam fake-head resting place. i walked back to the a.v. room one day to ask her something and caught her, hairless. she freaked out and yelled at me for not knocking. so now, i knock. still not the point.
there was one day that class was being held in the lie-bury. it was getting chilly out, and the bald one decided to read us some poems about the cold weather. one of them began "when the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock..." but it came out of her mouth like "winna fross is onna punkin anna fahduhrs inna shock." and i remember totally being like "what the fuck did that woman just say!?!?!" cuz of course, i said fuck a lot back then. so i couldn't understand her at all, and i picked up my copy of whatever nancy drew i was reading right then and secretly read it instead of listening to her.
so, fast forward to today. i walked out the door this morning, and everything was covered in a light layer of frost, including the pumpkins on the neighbor's porch. i remembered that line, in thelma-speak and everything, and it's been stuck in my head ever since. i looked around, trying to see if i could find any "fodder" or a "shock," but i don't know what the hell either of those things are. i also don't know how the poem ends, so i'm not sure what happens "when the frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder's in the shock." i've been trying to finish it up, but all i can come up with is "something something something about new kids on the block."
i wore puffy paint shirts back then. haha. maybe it's time for that fad to come back, only this time, we'll make it popular with the 20-somethings. are they already doing that in LA or anything? prolly.
that year, i had to play catch up with my spanish lessons. in ky, they started the kids young on learning the mexico-speak... this wasn't even an option back in rode hiland and ohio. so, i got to stay after school in the library with senora whatsherface to learn conjugation of verbs. one side-effect of my after-schooling was that i got to spend a lot of time around the resident "lie-burian," who worked in the "lie-bury," miss thelma something or other, maybe smith? anyway, she was quite the "red" individual, and i was a yankee, so her super-dee-serious accent floored me on numerous occassions. she was a bitch, too. oh, and bald! sometimes in the afternoons, when she figured everyone was gone, she would take her wig off and place it on its white styrofoam fake-head resting place. i walked back to the a.v. room one day to ask her something and caught her, hairless. she freaked out and yelled at me for not knocking. so now, i knock. still not the point.
there was one day that class was being held in the lie-bury. it was getting chilly out, and the bald one decided to read us some poems about the cold weather. one of them began "when the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock..." but it came out of her mouth like "winna fross is onna punkin anna fahduhrs inna shock." and i remember totally being like "what the fuck did that woman just say!?!?!" cuz of course, i said fuck a lot back then. so i couldn't understand her at all, and i picked up my copy of whatever nancy drew i was reading right then and secretly read it instead of listening to her.
so, fast forward to today. i walked out the door this morning, and everything was covered in a light layer of frost, including the pumpkins on the neighbor's porch. i remembered that line, in thelma-speak and everything, and it's been stuck in my head ever since. i looked around, trying to see if i could find any "fodder" or a "shock," but i don't know what the hell either of those things are. i also don't know how the poem ends, so i'm not sure what happens "when the frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder's in the shock." i've been trying to finish it up, but all i can come up with is "something something something about new kids on the block."
i wore puffy paint shirts back then. haha. maybe it's time for that fad to come back, only this time, we'll make it popular with the 20-somethings. are they already doing that in LA or anything? prolly.
# posted by Nancy Cunningham @ 1:24 PM 
