17 days of classes. 80 days (approx) until The Big Move. The house in Retiring Town is undergoing inspection today, and the builder walk-through is Monday. Closing 15 April. I'd told the builder not to put in the standard (and odd) 4" backsplash, that I would do it myself because I wanted one that would go clear to the cabinets. He offered to bid it out - so I sent him pictures and item numbers at Big Home Store, he bid it at a very reasonable cost - I had him do it. He'd done everything else I wanted with no problem and high quality, so I sent the go-ahead, reiterating that I wanted invisible grout lines. Told him that if his guy couldn't do it the way I wanted that I'd so it myself.
Monday night I got pictures of the tile installation... and was furious. Totally, irrationally angry. I hadn't realized that such a thing would be such a big button for self, but WOW. Sure was. Told the realtor it wasn't right; she dithered, tried to talk me into letting it go. Nope. Not gonna listen to that shit. We exchanged a flurry of emails - mine increasingly firm as to 'absolutely not; rip it out" hers conciliatory and assuring me that it'd be fine, to just let it be. Finally I got down to it, sent off another email directly to the selling broker and the builder, telling them to either make it right by redoing it the way I want, or to tear it out, repair the wall and refund my check.
The builder must have the patience and serenity of a saint. First thing yesterday he sent me an email, accepting responsibility and assuring me that I'd get a full refund and a clean wall. I'm actually good with doing it myself; it'll be a nice thing for me to do and say 'I did that.' I did it here in my current house, and every time I see my backsplash, I'm happy with my work and my accomplishment. So be it.
Classes proceed. Nothing different from any other term - there are good classes, excellent students, piss-pour students. At this point, as I've tried multiple times to explain to them, they've pretty much established the range of the grade. The ones that cannot possibly pass the class are still enrolled, still come to class. The ones that are doing well continue to worry about doing well. The in-between ones are just marking time, with no real interest in or possibility of doing A work. What's different is my attitude towards their opting out: I regret their choices, but it's
their choice.
Heard something yesterday: every time they don't raise their hands to answer a question, they are teaching themselves to accept what they have, to quit striving, an act of self-erasure. They choose to silence themselves and announce to the world that they are not to be heard. That struck a cord; I'll see if I can get them to hear that today.
