Last week of school? It’s wild. Straight up hairy and wild. There’s no open gym, so the kids have next to nothing to earn by doing well in school. The sun is out 24/7. So I came up with this idea a while back: rocket week. Yes, rocket week. I told the kids to be ready, and excited, because we’re going to blast rockets into the sky on the last day of school, the last week we’ll watch movies about rockets and make our own.
What could be better?
I tested the supplies yesterday. Critical error. The ignitors don’t fire. I should not have trusted old supplies we had here at the school. PANIC. So I call up the man the myth the legend Mr. White in Nome–yes, he’s willing to pick up supplies from his PO box and get them on the chopper out here on wednesday. Then I call the hobby shop in Anchorage. But there’s more bad news: motors and ignitors are considered haz-mat. Air shipping is a no-go. There’s no way to get them here in time, it’s doubtful that I could even get them here by next year…they have to come by barge from Seattle to Nome, then another barge from Nome to Dio.
&%$@
What do?
I’m going to make some damn rocket ignitors.