It started with the mushroom, found behind the greenhouse several weeks ago after the first autumn rains. It dried completely, then I soaked it in the sort of stuff used to seal wood to make it strong.
It begged for a poppet reading under it.
But tonight isn't for talking about poppets. We know they're here. And they agree that we might be best served by continuing to talk about education. Thank you for your comments. I'll answer each of them, but likely, it will be tomorrow morning as this has been a long day of yaks and interruptions, the end result of which is that I'm convinced that, at this point in the history of my life at least, that I am an excellent parent.
Here is another excerpt from Thinking About Quality:
" Education is different. Since you can never know everything, education must continue. And it is better, according to Deming, if that education has little or nothing to do with your job. That's the point where traditional American managers balk. Major corporations consider it reasonable to pay for a course in advanced accounting for a new accountant, but even some of the best companies seem reluctant to pay for a course in philosophy or art appreciation or Japanese flower arranging.
Worker education in unrelated areas may have a better payoff in the long run than skills training, but it is, we admit, impossible to measure or prove. The theory is that he or she will bring that new thinking skill to the job. Thinking of the old job in a new way could create a new solution. For instance, Japanese flower arranging requires the eye of a designer searching for maximum artistic benefit with minimum materials, which is one way to describe creating a better product for less money. Even if there's no breakthrough, the worker will be smarter, and that is an asset. What will provide commercial success in the twenty first century is a workforce of highly educated, highly motivated people.
I welcome and very much appreciate your comments and thoughts on this.
Now, I've just finished the third steamy bathroom for a croupy, congested child who is now asleep with a vaporizer. He and I left the brave Dwarves and Hobbit in the cells of the prison of the King of the Wood Faeries. (At least they now know that Thorin is alive and well.)
Aubrey and I are about to complete the last three episodes of Lost. And I, your artist, am feeling quite satisfied to have jumped through the many hoops thrown in front of her on this day.
I thank you for checking in, as always.