My new writing student asked to switch her lesson for tomorrow to this afternoon. Having little else to do, I agreed. Since she is from my work, I do not charge her. However, I am willing to teach her because she is working on a graduate degree and genuinely wants to learn.

Much to my sorrow, I discovered today that she does not know what a single part of speech is. None of them. Not even a noun.

During the last lesson, I had noticed this and asked her to review the appropriate pages in the writing handbook I had her purchase and wrote out 12 sentences about her life for her to mark what part of speech each word was. She had not done the assignment. Even reading through the handbook, she did not understand.

I find this unbelievably sad.

She is a bright, eager student. She is very organized and always has her work done. Responsibility is her middle name. Yet somehow she managed to go through twelve years of public school and four years of higher education without ever learning much about the English language. I know, I just know she is not alone.

Yet I also know that few would be as sad as I am. No one really cares much about our education system. Oh, it is a great lectern or pulpit issue. But that's all the matter is. The system's broke; nothing we can do about it.

Sixteen years of schooling and yet she doesn't even know what a noun is....

After she left, I talked with JW a bit on the phone, wanting to hear more about her day than think of mine. I also decided to take Kashi for his daily walk.

I have been trying, since I have been walking without the cane once more, to at least take Kashi around the neighborhood each day. Eventually, I hope to be able to take him back to Huntley Meadows.

He was so good to Fancy in her last days. Even though she had been his arch enemy for 10 years, he never once barked at her while she was on the birdie hospital I set up next to the couch or the countless hours I held her. In fact, he spent much of those twelve days curled up on the floor beside her. It was truly uncanny.

He deserves better care than I have given him in months. Hence, the walks.

I was still talking with JW when I set out, but her daughter's hunger was calling, so I finished the walk by myself. Eventually.

As it is wont to happen, I can be out and about and suddenly be aware that I cannot really go any further. Normally, this is after walking and such continuously for about an hour and a half. Today, it was a half hour.

We got to the large park when I started feeling funny. My legs grow heavy and yet are like wet noodles as well. Very strange. I had the equivalent of about three blocks to go: one in the park, one on the side street, and then back down my street. I couldn't do it.

If you haven't noticed by now, I have a tendency to want to be on the ground when I am feeling ill (the bathroom floor, the kitchen floor). I hate fainting and waking up with a sore head or back or shoulder. When I know I am close to doing so or am very weak, I lie down. So, there in the park, I sank to the ground and waited.

It is funny, every day this week the park has been teeming with children, young adults, and families. Today, it was empty.

Then it began to rain.

Kashi had settled himself next to me, his back pressed against mine. As we both started getting wet, I wondered if that was why the park was empty, if everyone but me knew that it was going to rain. I also thought about my phone. But who could I really call? And what would I say? I need help walking. Yes, I got myself here, but no, I cannot get myself home. Sounds stupid to me.

We were both quite wet by the time we arrived back home.

Not even a noun....