Afternoons in the 60s, fruit trees beginning to bud and light rain showers all hail the coming of spring, and we got ’em right now. These false signs are all precursors to a few days of freezing temps, or a sudden and heavy snowstorm. Never have my tulips managed to finish blooming without becoming sno-cones.
The key to solving the problems that plague Plumas County is visible from virtually every vantage point in the county — our national forests. Twenty years ago a group set out to grab that key and open the door that would protect the long-term viability of our communities.
But many in that group are tired. Last week, the group that used to draw dozens to its monthly meeting could only muster a handful.
When I was a child, my parents always told me I had too active of an imagination. Now, it’s usually my wife that tells me that. I’m often caught spacing out, daydreaming of all sorts of ridiculous ideas and scenarios.
Ever since I can remember I loved to draw. Any piece of paper I could get my hands on turned into little doodles of whatever was happening in my life. My family was one of my favorite subjects and my parents still have stacks of cartoons I drew of them.
At what point does the public’s right to know the facts outweigh a public servant’s right to privacy?
That is the question we are facing in the wake of the Plumas Unified School District board’s decision to dismiss a popular principal. The board voted in closed session March 7 to not renew Quincy High School Principal Dr. Sue Segura’s contract. The outcry from teachers, parents and students who vehemently support Segura has been loud and clear: It was wrong.
But, was it?
“My mom is an opera singer and my dad is a music professor.”
That is the line I tell everyone when I’m asked what my parents do.
Though I feel I’ve conquered the fluctuation in my voice just enough to make it sound like I have normal parents with normal jobs, I still get some sort of surprised response followed by the question of the existence of my own musical talents.
Music was an inevitable family activity in my household growing up. All four of us kids played some sort of instrument. Some more than others, like my brother who can play any instrument you throw at him. All four of us sang. Some better than others, like my Whitney-Houston-sound-alike sister.
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