The Fruit of all Evil.

Another horizontal page.  I've been doing a whole lot of them lately.

Another horizontal page. I’ve been doing a whole lot of them lately.

Outside of my classroom, there is this tree. It’s a pretty cool tree, to be honest, and it has branches that overhang the walkway in front of my classroom. Normally, this falls into the category of things that I would post to “IDon’tReallyCare.Com.” However, the change of seasons has brought me to a slightly different viewpoint on the subject, one that makes it worthy of a post here.

You see, the tree produces some kind of berry. What kind, I don’t know…do I seem like a @#$%ing botanist to you? That’s right, I DON’T. Still, there are berries. the berries mature, ripen, and then fall to the ground, as berries are known to do. This is all the Natural Order of Things.

The berries, then, fall onto the walkway in front of my class.

People step on the berries, creating some kind of strange, dark hued fruit juice.

People then step on the juice, and track the juice into my classroom, onto the white tiled floors. Floors like you have on the @#$%ing Death Star, but white. The aforementioned juice then dries into a weird, purplish mark that is just foul, even by my standards…and I am no stickler for neatness. It’s to the point where I have made a comment to custodial services that we should A) mop my room, and B) prune the tree. It takes a whole lot for me to get to the point where I say something to that effect.

Let’s put this into perspective, shall we? My old school, the one from last year, just had a security lockdown due to a report of an armed gunman on campus. My current school has a tree that needs pruning, in order to keep my floors from looking a little gross.

I’m putting this “problem” in the Win Column, True Believers.

The art is obviously from the commentary of EVERY adult that comes into my Edu-Dungeon. They are quick to comment on the massive splatterage on the floor, as if I had suddenly been struck blind, and possibly hadn’t seen it. To be honest, it is some kind of Fruit Juice (thank you, Bront) and it actually took me a few hours to figure that out. I just don’t figure that in Los Angeles, in a largely concrete environment, weird berry juice is going to be a custodial issue. I guess I was sure wrong about that.


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