Bullet Points

• Just two more school days till I'm out for six weeks. I am not even close to ready! I was going to go through all the piles on my desk and clean it off. But now, I think I'm going to put the piles into a box, stick it in my closet and clean it out in May.
• Today is the anniversary of my dad's death---27 years ago. Wow...it seems like less than that. He still has a lot of influence in our family because we've chosen to remember him well.
• The weather here has been so nice this week. Warm, but not hot, sunny and breezy. It's a great time of year.
• I'm headed off to a family wedding this weekend. While I'm up in Utah, I get to go to my granddaughter's class and read a story. Yea! Being grandma is fun!
• I get to spend time with all of the grandkids---yea! Being grandma is fun!!
• I'm almost looking forward to the recovery time later this week because the last three weeks has been unbelievably frantic. Doctor visits, lab visits, pre-register at the hospital, filing forms with various entities to get time off or get tuition re-imbursed or get my insurance to authorize different conveniences. Then, it's also report card time---writing comments, filling out all the sections of our weird report card, printing off the awards for the assembly that I can't attend. But my co-workers will take care of it. I'm going to be ready for the rest.
• I feel extra tired because it takes a lot of effort to stomp around in this storm trooper boot. My hips are uneven, and I'm off-balance and have to watch where I step. Today, a boy slid out his chair just as I tried to pass behind him and I lost my balance and fell over on him and a girl sitting next to him. Luckily, I fell on them and not the floor. I'm tired every night from just moving around.
• Got to go pack! Flying out of here in two hours!

Kitty Cat Crisis

There was a double Kitty Cat crisis at our house this week. Instead of the usual: no one being here precisely at 5:00 P.M. to serve the little packet of kitty chicken; we've had two different events that probably burned up one or two of her nine lives.

One evening I came home from work, and CoolGuy asked me to go into the kitchen/dining room and look around to see if I could determine the cause of the near-meltdown of Her Royal Highness all afternoon. It had started about 1:00 P.M.--far too early for the normal "It's 93 minutes till 5:00!" harassment she does daily. She was stomping across the keyboard of his computer, she was up on the back of the chair tapping on his head. She'd stand in the doorway of his office meowing sharply and beseeching him to follow her. He tried letting her outdoors, but none of the usual efforts led to relief.

Finally at 4:59 P.M. he went into the kitchen to get the packet of kitty chicken and as he leaned down to pick up the bowl, he realized what the hours of panic had been all about. The dry food container was nearly empty. We have one of those dispenser types that is filled from the top and then as the animal consumes it, more shuffles down into the serving area. EXCEPT THERE WASN'T ANYMORE TO SHUFFLE DOWN. And there was actually a little space of blue plastic showing in the serving area indicating that by this time tomorrow there would be no more snacks for nibbling at all. Oh. My.

As he pointed me in the direction of the kitty cat relief station, I already knew what I'd see because two days before, as I'd put out the kitty chicken, I'd seen that the filler box was very low, but I'd been distracted and so didn't go immediately to the shelf and get the dry food to refill it. What a riot! My inattention was the cause of four hours of persistent harassment for CoolGuy by the desperate KittyCat who could not articulate her concerns. Good grief.

Then, on top of that anxiety I carelessly provoked, I've been the cause of another 24 hours of unrest. Because of the impending surgery and subsequent enforced idleness, I have been inspired to a frenzy of housework. On Saturday, I washed all of my bedding, right down to the mattress pad and the pillow covers. However, my wonderful corduroy comforter is too big to wash in my machine, so I went down to the laundromat to use their big front loader. I also used the occasion of my going out to do a little shopping and stopped off at the church to practice a difficult piece I'm playing to accompany a group for next week's Sacrament meeting. So, by the time I finished the actual washing and took home the damp comforter, it was around 8:00 P.M. It is quite big and cumbersome, and would have taken so long in the dryer, that I just hung it over a fence in the yard to dry overnight. You know---dry desert air and it was 75 degrees on Saturday....nice, huh?

Yes, yes, but...this meant that something else had to serve as our cover for last night. I got out a couple of other blankets that, together, covered us up nicely, but weren't the corduroy comforter. And the bed had been torn up all afternoon...

This morning, I brought in the comforter, but I didn't remake the bed until this evening. You'd have thought that the KittyCat was the elegant princess from the fairy tale of The Princess and The Pea. She hopped up on the newly made bed, and rolled around and groomed herself, and flopped out and pushed her paws on it. She'd been suffering for 24 hours without her corduroy comforter! What utter luxury to have it back in place. She was exhausted! And relieved! Never do that again, lady, you understand? I guess we should just be reported to the authorities for this week of cruelty. We'll try to do better.

Here is the picture of the exhausted, anxious Princess KittyCat, who with her last ounce of energy, managed to get up onto the corduroy comforter for her beauty sleep---denied to her all of these hours because of the careless humans who thoughtlessly do chores without taking into account the needs of the Queen.

The Stupid Feet Gazette

I've started a new magazine/newspaper. The title is above. So, the latest headline is :

"Right Foot Fail"

You know, like as in Fail Blog? I've got a torn posterior tibialis tendon. It means that the sharp pain I've been experiencing since late December isn't really ever going to go away until it is surgically repaired. I've put myself back into the storm trooper boot twice, trying to shore up my flat foot and make the pain go away. And it did, a couple of times. However, this last time, around the middle of February, I made an appointment with the podiatrist and got an MRI to see what in the heck was causing the seriously painful pain whenever I'd step down on my foot.

The instep is really where the problem is. Also I began to notice that my foot seemed extra flat lately. It's always been the flatter of my two feet. When I step out of the pool there is a complete duck print where that foot has been. My ankle sort of tips over and my toes have begun to point out to the right as though my foot is turning over, instead of curving up.

Well, according to the X-ray and the MRI, that is precisely what is occurring. I didn't realize that your foot arches up partly because the tendon attached around and under your arch is pulling it up toward your calf muscle, to which it is attached. Or should be attached. Mine is disintegrating. Shredding. Pulling apart like an old worn out rope. Hence, the pain. And since it isn't holding up my foot snugly as it should, my foot isn't up any longer. It is collapsed and sunken and as I walk on the side of it, the bones which should be arched up over the sole of my foot, are being shoved off to the right and misaligned.

So, in thirteen days, I have a surgery scheduled to attempt a repair of the various collapsed, torn and misaligned parts of my foot. And I'm feeling quite anxious about it. I can't NOT do it, because my foot is seriously in pain and it will only continue the deterioration. But, there are so many ramifications.

I must sit with the foot propped for six weeks following the surgery---no weight bearing at all. No, you may not go to school in a wheelchair, even. How are you going to drive over there? It isn't even realistic to imagine that you can have your foot propped above your heart while seated in a wheelchair. No, you aren't going to your nephew's wedding in Houston---too bad that you just bought the tickets before you found out about the foot. No, you won't be going up to your granddaughter's class during Spring Break.

But, at least the nephew's brother is getting married next weekend and I can go to that one and meet all the relatives there. And I can go to visit S-Boogie's classroom on that trip. And we've solved a problem with my class: the principal has been bugging us for years to swap classes this trimester---the fifth grader writing teacher and myself. But we've resisted for many reasons. She'd like to see if he can get a head start with the upcoming class for the Nevada Writing Test which is held in January. So, instead of a sub for my class, the sub will be in his class and he will take over mine for the six weeks that I am out. The good news: he will write his own lesson plans. I'll be helping him to figure out what his class can do--like some type of big research project. Not birds, they did that last year with me.

But---I'm missing the best time of the year in school! Bike rodeo, field day, Family Picnic Day, Spring Arts Festival, research reports!! (I love teaching research reports because I assign everyone a bird and we go nuts over birds for two weeks. They come away from the experience in love with birds and much more knowledgeable about web searching, book searching and writing reports.) So, I'm bummed and sad.

Plus, I feel like I'm on a runaway train. I'm just going along for the ride and I know it won't be much fun. I'm sick to death of clumping around in the storm-trooper boot and I'm looking at four straight months---I put it on Feb. 17 and it won't be coming off till June. Blah. And I hate being a patient...see that word...patient? I'm so not.

So, blah, blah and blah...That is the latest news from the land of aggravating feet. Old lady-ness, genetics and inflammation---all this mess is the result of forces over which I have no power. Blah.

Don't Do It

I mean don't go to the store when you are hungry. Tonight, I left school rather late, but I knew that CoolGuy was going to grill a pork loin for supper. All I needed to do was come home and gather up the side dishes to serve with it and we could sit down to our usual ritual of dinner and Jeopardy! on Tivo.

Except that I stopped off at the grocery store to get another package of Smarties so I could pass them out to my testing students about half-way through the test. I've got a group of students who qualified through a language test to have the math portion read aloud to them. So...anyway, I needed Smarties.

But then I remembered I also needed a couple of onions, and oh---yeah, sliced Swiss cheese. Oooh, look they have Greek olive flavored hummus....and those California rolls look good, I could eat them for lunch tomorrow. Do I want extra wasabi and ginger? Oh, I should get CoolGuy some of that Italian bread he likes so he can have a pork sandwich for lunch tomorrow. Hmmm...cinnamon raisin bread for toast. That's right, I'm out of orange marmalade. Now where is that candy aisle? Bush's baked beans! I used the last small can yesterday, I should get a few more. Tiny hamburger buns! How cute! I'll make me a sandwich on them for tomorrow. Oh, these raisins have a reseal bag, I'll get them, I know mine are all gone. Fish fillets...they might be tasty to microwave for Thursday when CoolGuy's out of town. Eek, I just remembered I'm out of granola bars for the test-takers--these are on sale, good. Oh, I'll just go over there and get some of that naan to eat with the hummus for dinner tomorrow.

Yes, I did indeed buy all of those items when I actually only intended to go in quickly and pick up a bag of Smarties. And, of course, they'd didn't even have any Smarties. I'll just give the testers Jolly Ranchers from my drawer. They always love Jolly Ranchers.

Moral: go home, eat dinner, then go out and pick up that ONE THING you needed.

Places of the Heart

Do you get feelings about places? I mean, when you drive past a certain place, do you get an emotional reaction? As I drove up the street away from my school, I realized tonight that seeing the temple made me feel terrific. I smiled without realizing why for a minute. So I began to think about other locations that evoked an emotional response when I saw or passed through them.

Beaver, Utah, makes me irritated. Sorry, Beaverites...it is actually those two shark-like tire shysters that ply their smarmy trade on unsuspecting motorists that cause me to set my jaw and narrow my eyes as I drive through your town.

My stomach tightens, and I get anxious, when I drive past a hospital. I just don't like going to hospitals. I've had just enough bad times in a variety of them to have made an impression of unhappiness in their zone.

I always smile when I drove by Weinerschnitzel. I discovered this fast food franchise when I first moved to San Diego several decades ago, and I still like their chili dogs.

Two places that cause instantaneous relaxation is the beach and the top of the mountain pass that leads into the valley where I was born and raised. The beach is a total no-brainer. Every single time I get to the coast, I get out of the car and stand on the edge of the ocean and think to myself, "Now why did I move away from here??" The scent, the breeze, the sound of the surf, the very feel of the air...I'm more relaxed just sitting here typing a description of it. Imagine how much better it is to be standing there.

The Salt River Pass. I moved away from there 40 years ago, yet, each and every time I've driven up over that pass, I am compelled to stop the car, get out and marvel at the view of "my" mountains. They are almost like relatives. They're always there. They'll always be there. They welcome me home with affection and don't mind that I moved away. They just stand there guarding the valley with eternal vigilance. My plan is to see them on Resurrection Day. They'll still be there. It's home.

We have a series of photos on this very spot...First with no children, then with babies, see them growing? Finally, we're taking shots of just us. But we simply have to stop, every time.

Timely Advice

Today we woke up to snow. Well, snow on the mountain, anyway. But, instead of the snow being all the way across the valley, shining from the nearly 8000 foot height of the western perimeter of Sin City, it was dusted half-way down the 4000 foot rocky promontory that juts up behind our neighborhood. Whoo-hooo! There had been heavy rain down here in the valley, and it was chilly. Last night, as we went out to the hot tub, it was real darn cold. But snow! And it was beautiful, too, with the bright blue sky, and sparkling clear air.

Our church is located at the top of hill and it has a magnificent view of the entire valley from the parking lot and steps. The east side of Las Vegas is on the edge of the bowl that makes the valley, and while it is not the "cool" part of town, it does have the very best scenery. We can see all the way to the south where the highway cuts through the canyon on the way down to Hoover Dam. We can see the curve of the horizon to the north where the mountains open up to the Great Basin and the highway heads into the vast open spaces where the government hides Area 51. We have an unrestricted view of the stunning Red Rocks Canyon, framed by Mt. Potosi on the south and Mt. Charleston to the north. For a"barren desert," Las Vegas is blessed with remarkable natural wonders.

Now, about that advice mentioned in the title...I arrived at church to participate in a regional conference. Every stake in the entire state of Nevada, and a couple of areas in California and Arizona were all a part of a closed-circuit broadcast from Salt Lake City. At first, I was somewhat un-enthused. I actually enjoy stake conferences. I like to hear from people in my area and get their point of view and their testimonies. I wasn't sure about going to a presentation from SLC. We get to do that twice a year, and I like it. But, stake conference is sort of special. However, it was superb. The speakers were general authorities with a personal connection to Nevada, and they explained their associations. The stories that several of them used to illustrate their point were about people in various parts of our state. The life problems they each addressed, while not exclusive to Nevada, are particularly acute here right now. It was timely, personal and very spiritually nourishing. Silly me for being a crank. At least I didn't go around whining about it before-hand. Only you and I know about my reservations.

The advice, the advice...I realize that there are only a few things that God actually requires from us: obedience, acknowledgement, service. And that is what they discussed today. But, again, the way in which they addressed these timeless themes went straight to my soul:

• patience in affliction
• recognition of God's hand in all things
• the scriptures are our modern-day Liahona: when Lehi's family was rebellious, whiny and lacking in faith, the Liahona didn't work. If we are rebellious, whiny and don't consult the scriptures and God in prayer, we won't get personal revelation to guide and comfort us, either.
• our difficulties can either strengthen our faith or drive us away from God, depending on who we decide to follow: man or God
• God and Jesus Christ know us personally and care deeply: are we not more valable than many sparrows?
• patience means being willing to submit to the Lord's will and to recognize what we cannot change
• walk the walk, don't just talk the talk, of a faithful follower of Christ

So, after the meeting, I felt buoyed up and ready to face the future. I know my concerns aren't insurmountable. Some of them are a great burden to me, but I'm not carrying the burden alone. I know what to do now. I mean, I've always known, but I feel reinforced and refreshed and bright and clear as all that snow glittering on the mountains that surround me.

Spring is Peeking Around the Corner

Today, I realized that tiny little leaves were sprouting on the trees in our parking lot!

Today, as I drove around town, I saw trees that were bursting with pink blossoms.

Today, I actually had to turn on my air conditioner while driving on the freeway, because it was too warm inside my car and I couldn't roll down the window going that fast.

Springtime in Sin City!

They Say It's Your Birthday!

It's my birthday, I've been properly feted with the Beatle's song---a family tradition. Now I'll go to school and hear the birthday song performed as a dirge by my class (they always sing it so s-l-o-w-l-y...not sure why) and then I'm passing out Jolly ranchers instead of cupcakes because I have 107 students. They'll want to know how old I am, and I'll make them do the math. Sometimes a person who isn't quite adept at borrowing across zero will announce in loud awe, "She's 158 years old!" No, it just feels that way sometimes.

I decided to borrow from this blog to reflect on the past decade. In February 2001, we were still just a family of seven. Three children had left home, two of them had served missions---our daughter arrived back from Spain just that month. We still had two boys living at home and going to high school. I taught fourth grade, CoolGuy tested new stuff on remote control spy airplanes. By the end of 2001, we'd had two weddings, our own temple sealing and the family sealing. Oh, and a scary new war for me to worry that someone might decide would be a necessary place to send CoolGuy.

The decade really whizzed by: no more high school students; no more marching band; no more Boy Scouts; no more parent conferences; no more early-morning seminary; the final missionary out and back; the first Peace Corps volunteer; college graduations; my very own passport stamps! In Arabic! CoolGuy traveling the world to places where people blow stuff up, hoping you go up with it.

Funerals... and funerals...my sister, my mother, my aunt, my uncle, married children's new relatives, my brother-in-law. Too many of those funerals were held decades sooner than we'd anticipated.

Babies!! Four of our very own grandchildren came to dote on and love and spoil and fret over.

Kids moving out, then back in briefly while they transitioned off to, and back from, selfless adventures in serving others. Little did they know (or maybe they did) that I would have loved to have any of them stay longer. But they were full-fledged adults and, having done it myself, it's too hard to go back with your parents for very long once you've flown the nest.

I moved across the country to get back home in the West--and be closer to family members--especially the grandchildren. It was the first time we moved for my job. It isn't any easier that way. I started a graduate degree...twice. I hope to finish it before another decade has passed!

We started new family traditions: reunions, camping at the beach, spending Christmas at their houses, professional family photo shoots, Facebook birthdays, blogs and learning new languages.

I won money playing games on TV; I've been published in two magazines; I was interviewed on radio and television news. I've had six "minor" surgeries...believe me...that's a misnomer. I've still got long hair! It's mostly silver instead of gold. I've lost some more teeth. I'm still up for adventure, and someday I'll get to Israel with CoolGuy.

In the meantime, I'd just like to still be here to chronicle the decade when I have a birthday in 2021.

It Always Somtin' Lucy

Thurday, we had ward temple night. I was available so I left school as soon as the tutoring students finished and headed home to change. I had a bowl of cereal for dinner (CoolGuy was back east) and drove the four or five blocks up there.

I was fishing in my wallet for the card that entitles me to attend the temple, and as I got it out to show the gentlemen at the front desk, I realized a dreadful thing. I'd been too neat, and as a result, the valid version of this document was not in the wallet. The one I'd handed over was expired last October. He pointed that out as I told him, "Oh, no that is the expired one." (We could have have crossed pinkies.) Oops. One alternative was to call up someone to the front desk who would then phone a strategic person from my ward who could give him information that would admit me, but I said, "No, that won't work, those people are all inside here already." So I said I'd go home and look on my desk, since I live nearby.

However, I was pretty sure I'd shredded it along with expired Auto Club card, empty gift cards and some other debris I'd cleaned out of purse last week. I'd found both versions of this card in my purse and looked at the names, seeing my bishop's signature on one (and stupidly not verifying the dates) I tossed the other one. But...since the last time I'd sat for this interview, the man who'd signed it as a counselor to the stake president had become my bishop, so his signature was on both of the papers. DOH. And, no, I couldn't find that little card anywhere. So, I stayed home and read a chapter for my college class and went to bed early.

Friday morning, I called the bishop and explained the faux pas and asked what I could do for Saturday morning: our women's group was meeting at the temple early. He went way out of his way to arrange for another gentleman to meet us at the church right after work on Friday and and get me new card issued, signed and logged into the computer system. It was very thoughtful.

Now, Saturday morning, I woke up with horrible intestinal malaise and cramping and pain. I didn't dare go twenty feet from my bathroom door. By noon, when CoolGuy's plane was due, I felt secure enough to go to the airport and pick him up, but came straight home for a nap. Now, I have a fever. Blah.

But I also have a valid temple recommend and that is a relief, because I would have been very dismayed to have experienced that Thursday night moment in Salt Lake City attempting to attend my nephew's wedding next month.

Happy Birthday Daddy

It seemed weird to write "Daddy" when referencing my dad, but that is what I always called him, even when I was an adult. So, even though it looks funny, it really is my reference point. Today is his birthday. He would have been 88 years old. I know I've talked about Birthday Week before: we had three within six days. And my mother would always squeeze in a cherry pie to honor George Washington between the birthday cakes. She loved to bake. We loved to eat. A match made in heaven. The match is actually in Heaven now, for almost five whole years.

In an essay called "Eleven" Sandra Cisneros wrote: "What they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you're eleven, you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one....Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one." This is true in my own life. It is probably a truth for us all. I realize that when my parents married, they weren't just the adults that appear in the photo, but they were also the children who had grown up to become that young couple.

They both grew up during the Great Depression. But my mother's family was relatively secure on their small dairy farm, with her father an accomplished carpenter. She was the little sister in a loving family, living in a close community, enveloped by an enormous network of relatives. It was the very picture of security. My dad's family was fractured by his mother's death when he was just six years old. His father was involved in a questionable enterprise (he helped his brother bootleg liquor) and there was no large, loving family especially because his own grandmother didn't acknowledge their relationship. Then his father died two years later, followed the next day by the death of his father who'd been living in his son's home to help with the three little children. Orphaned at age eight, left destitute, taken in by relatives---he grew up quickly, always a little worried that he might not be allowed to stay there either. Despite growing up just 25 miles apart, and attending the same high school, their childhood worlds were completely different.

Yet, they joined up as a team, and worked hard to have a stable family life for us. I realize that my mother's expectation was that her childhood was "normal" and that was how a family should be. Lucky us! My dad thrived in her orbit. She told me once that he was really "hard" when they were first married, and that she'd had to soften him up. Meaning---help him to relax and realize that he was now part of a new loving family and no one would push him away. He didn't have to "deserve" it or be "useful" in order to compensate for his keep. She simply loved him as her mother had loved her father, and she passed that on. Grandma had made a pleasant home in which she provided comfort and love to her family, and my mom did the same from that example. Daddy, in response, did all that he could to provide a living and life for our family. His devotion to our mother was the soil in which the whole enterprise flourished.

On this anniversary of his birthday, I want to acknowledge what a magnificent gift their legacy has been to me as their child. I was bequeathed optimism, thoughtfulness, the desire to share my bounty with my fellow man, and a faith in God as our loving Father. I'm rich beyond belief as a result. It is my life goal to pass on this heritage to my own husband and children.

Helicopter Copping

For the last 10 minutes a police helicopter has been circling my house. Yes, shining its light all over my back and front yards! It is probably looking onto the cul-de-sac behind our street, I realize, but it is starting to unnerve me to have its continued presence thwack-thwack-thwacking overhead. So, I went outside to look around. There are cop cars blocking off the streets at both ends of my block, and all the other entrances and exits, too. Hmmmm...doesn't look good.

I went back inside and checked all my locks and set my alarm so if a window or door is opened a loud siren will go off. I hope the helicopter leaves soon. I realize now that I heard sirens about 20 minutes ago, then squealing tires out in the street right in front of my house, and saw flashing lights through the slits of my closed blinds while I sit here procrastinating my school work.

I don't like having a helicopter circling my house. Hurry and catch your prey and beat it. Hurry.

Fun With Websites

Here are CoolGuy and I as cartoons:I think his looks quite realistic.

Mine is a version of me about 15 years ago.

What do you think?

It Works

Regular exercise, I mean--it works. Not that I've been exercising especially regularly. However, each of the last four Saturdays, I have ridden my bicycle for at least 30 minutes. Last Sunday, I rode up (and I do mean up) to choir practice, too. The good thing about that is the return trip which involves: sit on bicycle, point it downhill, coast all the way to our house.

Today, I rode over to my school at 8:00 A.M. because we were having CRT Camp. (I'll explain later...) Then, I just returned at noon and I was quite pleased to realize that I pedaled the entire way back, shifting to a lower gear for the rises, but I did not need to stop and rest at all. I kept moving forward the whole time. This is a first. It is about 1.6 miles to my school. The wind was in my face and it is a slight incline for most of the return trip. And I did it without stopping to rest! Yea! Now, I just need to work it out so I ride two more days a week, not necessarily to school, but at least around the blocks near my house. It's a goal that this summer at the beach, I not look like I did last summer in my suit---eeewwww is all I'll say about that.

CRT Camp: wherein we teachers plan a test-skills-centered Saturday mini-session for our grade level. Fourth graders were invited to come today at 9:00 -- 11:00. We had about 45 students come (out of 104--pretty good), of course few of the ones who really need it most were there. But several were, so that will help. We held short sessions---25 minutes each---and rotated. We each took different strategies and practiced them. My emphasis was the written answers in math: use a diagram, chart, graph or pictures to show how you solved it. Write your equation, use arrows and words to show your steps. Voila: you will have explained it to the reader. None of these skills is new---we're just reiterating because in two weeks we're up to our necks in testing.

CRT Camp goes by so quickly that the students were amazed that it was over already. The only little hiccup was actually vomit. One poor little girl lost her breakfast between the last two sessions. We only had 15 minutes left by the time we got her settled and the barf covered up, so she just sat at a table with her head down until the parents came. She was embarrassed and felt awful, too, so it wasn't such a good time for her. But the rest of us? We'll be back on the 26th for session two!

PS: Happy Birthday Abraham Lincoln--1809-1865. Go learn about him on this link.

Teeth Tales

One thing about getting older is that my teeth have darkened. Although, it could also be the coca-cola I often drink for breakfast. But for years, I didn't drink any soda, and my teeth still yellowed. At any rate, I've tried an assortment of whiteners over the years. The icky trays, and the little strips that you wear around for a few minutes, trying not to swallow. The trouble is, these products usually leave my teeth too sensitive. So, I've settled for my twice yearly dental hygenist visit to enjoy lighter, brighter teeth for the few weeks after a cleaning.

Then, I read about a new toothbrush. It was advertised to have microscopic gritty bits on the bristles that would scrub off the stains. So I went looking for it. However, that brand (which I cannot remember the name of now...) had an empty spot on the shelf at the drugstore. Apparently other people had read the same ad. However, I did find my favorite brand of toothbrush, OralB, also featured a disposable battery-operated "whitening" toothbrush. It needed to be used in conjunction with a whitening toothpaste, so I chose Crest 3D Whitener.

It has been exactly one month, and I can see a significant difference in the color of my teeth. Yea! They are much whiter and, as a result, I think my smile is much more appealing. So, if you're unhappy with the stained appearance of your teeth, you might try one of those new whitening toothbrushes and see if you get a shinier smile, too.

Also, I know---I should give up the soda at breakfast. It's bad for my teeth, my waistline and my arteries. I'm working on it. At least I only consume one can each day. Getting enough sleep would be an excellent step in the right direction, so I'll sign off now.

Too Much

Today, I opened an e-mail that was curt and very pointed. The writer had no other choice, actually. I have failed to fullfill my obligation to her. I did sign up to write lessons to develop a curriculum for tobacco prevention in elementary school. I did have a deadline. I did fail to meet it. I did fail to notify her in a timely way if and when I'd be meeting it.

I have no excuse, either. I just found myself up to my eyeballs in everything else, and I didn't spend time to take care of that obligation. I have a rough draft. I spent an hour and a half after school today working on the revisions suggested to me from our last meeting. But, it isn't done and everytime I think about finishing it, my brain shuts down.

I don't remember ever having this sort of thing happen to me before. I don't know what makes this particular assignment so dreadful to me. I'm being paid, it isn't volunteer. I will go and cook dinner and then I will drag myself back to the computer and type more. I promised it would be completed by Wednesday, so Wednesday it will be.

Next year---I will not obligate myself for so many projects. Even if they are paid. Apparently, I have a maximum amount my brain can handle, and I seem to have found that limit. Blah.

Ice Castle in the Desert

It was very cold here the last few days. Brrr....

I know, I know---it was a lot colder in other places. Yeah, yeah. I've lived in some of them. That's why I live here now. It's not supposed to have temperatures cold enough to do this when the lawn sprinkler system comes on at midnight.

See that swimming pool in the background there? It's just wrong to have icicles in the same yard as a swimming pool.

It could be worse. I could have been driving along Lakeshore Drive in Chicago (look at # 22). Or milking cows in Star Valley, Wyoming. I'm looking forward to the weekend. We're supposed to get back to our regular 65 degrees.

Moving On

You know, we had one of my most squirrely boys move to another school this week, and (I really feel badly acknowledging this) I'm so relieved.

#1 He won't be counted in our test scores.
#2 He was such an exhausting child to have in class.

But, at least I also have regrets.

#1 We'd figured out a plan to help him improve, we were implementing it and he was making gains. I don't know if he'll get it at his next school.
#2 He and I had developed a rapport, and I hope his new teacher will try to do that, too.

I'm glad he got to go on the field trip with us. He really enjoyed learning from the real world like that. Plus, his mom told me at parent conferences that she doesn't take him places because he's too much trouble and she was very clear that she doesn't like him much. Poor kid. New house, new school, same mother.

Testing, Testing

I had a conversation this afternoon with a mother whom I believe is quite well informed, and whose child is now in high school. We were discussing something about education and I pointed out the theory that I've been mulling over, with a friend, that until children have a stake in the "high stakes" testing, it will remain difficult to motivate certain students to do well. Anyway, this mother expressed genuine surprise that the CRT tests that she knows are given every year are not a part of her child's grades. That this hugely important test is only important to the school's ranking, not the student's ranking or status or GPA.

I admit I was completely startled that she didn't know that. I thought after all the years that we've been giving these CRT (criterion referenced tests) that parents understood that the test is measuring the schools. Yes, yes, the students get a score, but it doesn't go on the student's report card nor affect whether they are passed on to the next grade --- in elementary school, that is. In high school, there are proficiency exams that are criterion referenced which must be passed in order to graduate. But the CRT's in elementary are only used as a way to rate the school.

[Actually, in my school, we use these scores to rank students and help us figure out who needs extra help. But the extra help is designed to get a passing score on the test--yes, as a by-product, the students should learn more, and gain mastery over certain skills, but the real goal is a higher percentage of passing scores so that the school can maintain its ranking as making "Adequate Yearly Progress."]

What I'm asking here is, are there other parents---a lot or a few---who don't realize that all this work and focus and effort isn't part of what we grade? Now, I realize that if a student is skilled enough to get above the "cut-off score" on the high-stakes yearly test, then in all likelihood, that student is also getting passing scores on their report card. But, seriously, the whole focus of our school year is that CRT test--it's all about the rankings.

I'm not stating that our ranking is irrelevant--I got a cash bonus last fall because we'd scored so well in our school. I know that I love working at my school because we are all aware of each student's ranking and we do give extra instruction, strategies and tutoring to the students who are "on the bubble" [almost passing] so that they can push on through to a passing score this year. It helps the students---they are learning more. But, again, it's about our ranking. That is our motivation as stated over and over again by our leader.

What I was wondering, though, is whether there is some way we can give the students a stake in this, too? We have informal ways: we have a drawing at our school for every kid who passes both the math and reading tests. All of their names go into the hat and the teachers and staff members all agree to donate prizes: iPod touch, movie tickets, gift cards for games and stores and restaurants, etc. So, a reward party is given. Also, my grade level is planning our own ice cream party for the students who pass one or both, and we're going to give an Olympic-type medal to the those who pass both. Then we're photographing them and making a poster to put in our Hall of Fame.

But, by the time kids get into 5th and 8th grades, where the tests are given (and some 4th graders, too) there are those who really don't give a hoot whether they pass or not. They don't like tests, they don't really care about the results and so they just blithely go through and check off...whatever...on their scantron sheet. Big deal, they shrug.

What if they couldn't be promoted if they didn't get a passing score? Would they be more diligent? Would the students get more help, or more encouragement, or more "You better do a good job or else..." insistence/help from home if parents knew their child would be repeating a grade until they could show mastery of reading and math at that grade level through this CRT?

Discuss...(and, hey, let me know your thoughts and experience on this topic.)

Field Trip!

It was 60 degrees today, the sky was the clearest blue, and we got to spend the whole morning outside tramping around in the Wetlands Park here. We had a field trip! Yea! Everyone was very excited! We finally managed to calm down enough to get out to the bus and sit down so the driver could get us there. I went with one of my fellow 4th grade teachers. The facility can only accomodate about 65 children at a time, and the bus only holds 75, so we divided up our grade level and scheduled two trips. The other classes will go on March 17th. We were lucky to even get any dates at all.

This is one of the most popular destinations here for elementary schools and they have limited openings. If you want your students to have this opportunity, you must call their office at 8:01 A.M. on the first day that teachers go back to work in August. This year, I temporarily lost attention, and didn't call until mid-morning....arrrgghhh! I was so relieved when there were still a couple of days open. Both of our dates were at the end of critical testing blocks, but we anticipated this trip and tested the traveling students first so they were finished for today. And the other team will be finished by their date, also. I'm sure the testing schedule is the only reason those two dates were still available.

Volunteer guides take us around the trails and really engage the students in "seeing" nature. Each student gets a field book and a pencil, a pair of binoculars, a magnifying lens and even a sling to secure their water bottle so their hands can be free to take notes and look at cool stuff. We get to keep the notebooks, but return the lenses, binocular and water bottle slings at the conclusion of the day. The whole concept is that the students are part of the NSI team: Nature Special Investigators (get it...like CSI?? It's the LAS VEGAS Wetlands Park...) You can actually see the skyline of the strip from the trails.

We had a blast. We saw tracks in the mud from racoons, bunnies and coyotes. We listened to quail calls, we saw a shrike perched on a bare tree. We picked apart dessicated coyote "scat" with sticks to look at the rabbit bone fragments and, in another pile, we found the seeds from the honey mesquite -- the coyote's diet when rabbits are scarce. We found owl pellets and rabbit droppings and watched three snowy egrets soar slowly over the cattails as they looked for a likely fishing spot. We examined a stick that had gnawing marks left by a beaver (there are 17 beaver living in this wetlands--who knew??) We watched a turtle swim and saw many American coots. (No, really, they are a bird--not old guys taking a walk muttering about young boys who need to pull up their jeans..) Mallards flew overhead and a hummingbird fluttered by. Whew, it was simply divine.

We were divided into groups of about 10 students and their accompanying adults. The group I attached myself to had four of my most squirrely dudes. These fellows have varying official diagnoses that have resulted in each having an IEP, daily meds, and invitations to the counselor's social skills groups. But I like each of them a lot. They are quite intelligent despite their unusual personalities, and are very sweet, and we're good friends. They were on fire today! We need to go somewhere like this everyday and learn and read and write while investigating the real world. Seriously---I'd like to take them to a fire station, or the electric generating plant, or the kitchen of a big restaurant. Anywhere where real life is occuring would be such a magnet for their curious, investigating natures. We could see things and figure them out and then go back and get books and read some more things and write authentically. They were right on the heels of our guide, pointing out interesting tidbits, answering her questions, coming up with really intriguing queries about the next new thing. Wow. We learned today. Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby.

Ten Days....

That is how long it has been since I posted here. I've been very busy! Here are a few of the events that kept me away from the computer.

We spent the weekend of CoolGuy's birthday in Utah with two of our children and our grandchildren. The only reason I'd venture into the frozen northland in January is to spend time with family--believe me. The baptism event was terrific. The ceremony was bi-lingual because one set of grandparents is much more comfortable speaking and listening in Spanish. In fact, there were only about six of us in attendance who are not fluent in both languages, so much of the translation was for our benefit. Our son baptized his little boyand offered the prayer in each language. Their abuela from Argentina gave a lovely talk about baptism and our daughter translated her words into English. Jacob's confirmation was performed in Spanish by our son's dear friend, also an Argentine native, who then explained the gist of the blessing in English. The other grandfather gave a talk about the Holy Ghost, again professionally translated for the non-Spanish speakers by our daughter. (Good thing she got that second bachelor's degree in Spanish translation, huh?) Tears were shed due to the Spirit of God we all felt.

We reconvened at our son's house for food and conviviality, with all the children playing up a storm in the bedroom and all the adults talking up a storm in the living room. It was all in Span-glish, too. With the exception of CoolGuy and I, everyone else could speak Spanish well. But, the other grandparents have limited English skills. I can follow a conversation in Spanish, but I cannot make any sentences. So, we'd be telling funny stories, and it would get translated whichever way it needed to go, and then the other half of the family would laugh. It was quite a good time.

As all the guests had finally departed, it was pretty sweet to find our grandson busily looking up the scriptures from his "Scripture A Day" calendar in his new Book of Mormon and underlining them. I heard that later, he sat at the kitchen table and sang songs to himself from the pocket-sized, personalized hymn book I'd given him for a gift. He is truly his grandma's and abuela's pride and joy.

The next day, we met at our daughter's house for dinner to honor Grandpa CoolGuy. She made yummy food (including German chocolate cake for dessert) and we ate and laughed and talked and told funny stories again. And the kids played and played and played. Good times.

But Monday morning came and we had to leave. Bah. At least it was a beautiful day (cold, but sunshiney) and the drive home was pleasant. I dashed through a week of fourth grade. I started my new college semester. I was at a school training all day on Saturday and now it's Sunday afternoon and I'm already behind for the weekend on things I wanted to get done. Sheesh....So, I'll just grade some papers, and write some letters and go onto WebCampus and see what else I'm supposed to have ready by Wednesday night for class. It is a hybrid class (which is a problem for me, I'm not good at computer chatting for college) and so some of our meetings are supposed to be on-line. I hope I don't mess it up. One good thing about webclasses is that there will be fewer mad dashes across town to the campus during rush hour this semester.

Here was the best thing about getting home to the desert on Monday evening: (that's the temperature gauge in CoolGuy's truck. It was about 5:00 P.M.)

Observations

Just a few, unrelated, thoughts.

Today, when I left the school at 5:45 P.M. the sky was still a little orange over the edges of the western mountains. Yea! The DarkTimes are leaving us! It is so nice to have the sun returning. Also, today it actually got all the way up to 60 degrees. The high on Monday was 42. Brrr...my face got cold during the 15 minutes we were out there directing traffic at 3:30. I'm ready for 75.

We've been using the laptop computer cart in my room all week. The students were typing a paper they wrote about a time they ate out at a restaurant or a fast food place. The goal was to use lots of adjectives to describe what they saw, tasted, smelled, felt and heard. It's been a challenge. Most of them can barely type. But we've been also learning how to use the spell check and the formating tools so that it isn't just me saying, "Oh look! You didn't put in any punctuation marks!" or "Umm...you have many misspelled words." When the computer refuses to go on until you choose the correct spelling of the word from the list, then it is a real teaching moment.

I'm headed off tomorrow to Utah to attend the baptism of our oldest grandson. It is a wonderful event. Also, because of the federal holiday to honor Dr. MLK on Monday, we don't even have to start driving back until Monday. Yea! CoolGuy is already up there, and I'm flying on Friday night. He was babysitting while the parents were taking care of the baby and her scary medical issues. But, good news! The problem wasn't what was predicted and so the solution is more benign. We're all relieved. Prayers have been answered.

Little Luxuries

This might not look like much, but it is the very first manicure I've ever received. Or, that I remember receiving, at any rate. I may have had my nails done professionally before in my life, but I don't recall.

I used to polish my nails regularly when I had three tiny children. I'm not sure why...because my hands were wet most of the time back then: rinsing out diapers, washing diapers, washing dishes, washing off bottoms, washing faces, washing hands. But I also had really awesome, strong beautiful nails, too. I think it was related to pregnancy, because my hair grew long and strong and awesome then, too. My hair is still pretty good, but my nails now split and break and peel a lot. I think it is one of those old lady things.

But, since I had fine fingernails, I often polished them. One night, I re-painted them just after I got into bed, and then I laid down with my hands carefully spread out on the top of the covers and sighed and closed my eyes. CoolGuy, from his side of the bed, said, "Um, why do you paint your nails at bedtime?" I said, (without thinking) "It's the only time of day that I know that no one is going to be touching me!" ooooh....umm...I suddenly got his point. There was someone who was hoping for a little touching. So, I didn't go to bed with wet nails ever again.

I actually gave up painting my nails a couple of years after that, too. No time...plus I don't have lovely hands. I have working hands. They've always been big and sturdy. Once a boy gave me his ring in high school. He was a wrestler and played football, and worked on a ranch. But I didn't need to put tape on his ring for it to fit my cow-milker fingers. My best friend in high school, who is as tall as me, could drop her class ring right through the diameter of my class ring. She was willowy and narrow. I was sturdy, not fat, just sturdy.

I've always painted my toes, however. I loved wearing sandals in California. I love cute shoes. But, I had usually worn sturdy shoes to haul hay, or milking boots, or snow boots. It was awesome to live in a place where I could show my toes. Then, one day as I was painting them, Coolguy happened to mention that there were few things more attractive (ahem) than polished toenails. So, they've been painted ever since.

Now, I am at that awkward age--I'm not flexible enough to get my feet close enough to my face so I can see my toenails with my bifocals to care for them. So, I go to the nail lady. She trims and buffs and scrubs and massages. She clips and shapes and emolliates. Then, she has the skill and practice to swipe on that red laquer in one step. I love being pampered and I have nice looking toes on these goofball feet.

Yesterday, she asked if I'd like a manicure, too. I showed her my dry, cracked peeling cuticles and ragged, mishapen nails and she almost recoiled. So, I walked on my damp toes over to her little table and she did the whole ceremony on my fingers. Who knew? They look fabulous! She only put on clear polish because I didn't want to call attention to my manly hands. But, with the cuticles trimmed and the ends shaped and shiny, they actually look really lovely. I keep looking at them. I'll do this again! Who knows, maybe I'll even get pink polish next time.

Happy New Year! Brrr...

Baby New Year is shivering. I hope he's wearing more than just that banner and his diaper. Look at this temperature:

It might not look like much to those of you in the frozen northland (Afton, Wyo: -18 at 9:00 A.M.) or (Salt Lake City, UT: 13 degrees, 10:00 A.M.).

But this is the desert. We're more accustomed to this sort of temperature:

Yes, more whining...And the whining will continue until the temperatures return to a more moderate region. However, the five day forecast is for a high of 42 and lows in the 20's. We'll be shivering for another week. I actually feel bad for the tourists who came here to escape whatever frozen climes in which they live. I'm sure they were hoping for warmth.

Last night, we perched ourselves on the roof to watch the New Year's Eve fireworks show on the Strip, and it didn't disappoint. The Stratosphere look like it was launching for outer space...cool. But we were seriously cold up there. When CoolGuy was skimming leaves from the hot tub prior to heating it up for our nightly soak, the water that puddled on the pool deck froze. Yeah. It was chilly. Remember---I don't whine about the hot.

Vacation

Wow, I really must be on vacation. I've read two entire books. Cleaning out my room and revising the bookshelves, I found a couple of books I like and I re-read them. I finished Captains Courageous this morning--I woke up and just stayed there in bed reading until I was done. Luxury...

Of course part of it was due to owing KittyCat. She'd accidentally been out all night because I forgot to pay attention to her whereabouts before I got in bed. When I got up and went for a drink in the kitchen, there she was-on a patio chair, all hunched up sorrowfully. It was 29 degrees here last night, so it really wasn't the best night to be a little kitty outside. When she came in, she rushed into the bedroom and jumped up on the bed. What else could I do but get back under the covers so she could push her paws and snuggle? I picked up my book for a few more pages and an hour later--I finished it. Cool---vacation!

We went to see the new version of True Grit last night. It was very well done. I've seen the first version from 1969 many times, so I knew the story. But the new movie does a fine job of retelling it with a few little differences in emphasis. Jeff Bridges does quite a good Rooster Cogburn--he's completely different than John Wayne's version, yet excellent. Remember Glen Campbell as LeBoeuf? (tee hee) Well, it's weird: Matt Damon is just about as tee-hee-able.

Anyway, I came home and got out the novel by Charles Portis and I'm almost finished reading it now, too. Good story. So, I feel very vacationed. What a luxury to read for fun--two entire books. But, for the rest of this afternoon, back to cleaning out my room. This time, it's the bedroom. Clothes all over, dust, junk piled up on the dresser...I should be ashamed. I am.

[Looking up that link for the book was illuminating. I knew I'd first read this story in a magazine. The link points out that True Grit was serialized in the Saturday Evening Post in 1968. I could picture myself reading this story from a magazine while lying on my aunt's sofa while I was still in high school. But I had begun to think I'd only dreamed that memory. Whew, what a relief. Oldness is getting to me.]

Renovation

I have taken my Thromdimbulator apart.

There's a great Dr. Seuss book called Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? that tells of different folks who are in a dreadful circumstance because of some unfortunate event. One of them is Poor Herbie Hart, who has taken his Thromdimbulator apart. There sits Herbie surrounded by countless pieces of something: pipes and wires and connectors and fasteners. Two whole pages are covered with the bits and pieces of this mechanism and Herbie is having a little trouble putting it back together.

This book and that page are infamous to our family because it perfectly articulated CoolGuy's problem at work the first year we read this story. He was in the Navy, working at a submarine base as part of the team of sailors tasked with keeping the Advanced Submerged Shipboard Control Trainer up and running. This was a new technological marvel that trained sub crews in an environment that was so accurate, that when we visited, there were covers on the gauges to prevent anyone without proper vetting from seeing the capabilities of a modern nuclear sub. It was on hydraulic legs so it could mimic the motion of the sea. One Christmas stand-down period, something wasn't working. There was a lot of pressure to get it back on line before the holiday ended and the training schedule started back up. CoolGuy saved the day, naturally, and got a commendation, too, for his efforts. But, at the time, we likened it to Poor Herbie Hart.

Now, I am Poor Herbie Hart. I got a lovely, thoughtful gift from CoolGuy--new computer! But as we set it up on my desk, we realized that it needed to be in a new spot in the room to minimize window glare. Sure, move the desk, you say. Except that for 6 months I've been just putting stuff into this room thinking I'd get to it later and take care of it, or put it away or something.

Then school ended and I had foot surgery. Then I got healed up from foot surgery and went on vacation to see my family and then we went to the beach and then I started the new school year. And then I got hired to teach the Instructional Aide class. And then I got hired to write lessons for the Tobacco Prevention Task Force. Oh, and don't forget graduate school, and, oh, hey! I teach fourth grade full time, too. So, of course, I didn't actually get to anything "later" except adding to the piles of crap.

Well, we got to it yesterday. I took everything out of the room and we moved the furniture and I washed the Venetian blinds and vacuumed and washed the book shelves and dusted everything. Now I am tasked with putting things away in here. So far, I've filled four boxes and two bags of books for the thrift store. I've thrown into the trash quite a selection of things. We're boxing up some more books that I can't yet part with, but will go to our storage unit. It's going to take a bit of time to get everything put away or thrown away, but I'm confident that it will occur. Then, I'll try to curb that tendency to just stick stuff in here for "later"---bwaaaaa haaaaa haaaaa! As if.

One Love, One Lifetime

We went to see Phantom of the Opera last night at the Venetian Hotel. It was superb! CoolGuy used our "locals" coupon and got us two-for-one seats on the front row. When the Trumpeting Elephant sounds...we practically got sprayed with elephant sweat. We love Phantom of the Opera.

We've seen Phantom quite a few times. When our oldest son was in high school, we chaperoned a band trip to the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles to see their production. We sat up in the farthest balcony seats, but were absolutely stunned as we watched the show. The band had been playing the music, and we'd had a friend send us a tape of some of the songs, so we were familiar with the score. But the entire production was so magnificent and spectacular that we almost felt compelled to go down and buy tickets for the next night when the lights came up for the intermission.

We did go see it two more times while we lived in So. Cal. I discovered that you could go to the box office in person, with a student ID, and get half price tickets. So, I drove down there with all the kids, even the one in 1st grade, and we presented our IDs (I had one for college) and we got tickets for the whole family---sort of. The first grader stayed overnight with a friend while the rest of us--including non-student Dad--went to the show.

Then we moved to the East Coast, and by then that "little" boy was in high school and we took him to see Phantom at the Kennedy Center. Of course, he'd been fully indoctrinated to the music through listening, playing in band, and the piano book of the score that was constantly played at our house. His reaction--like ours each time we've seen it--was the desire to run down to the lobby and buy tickets for tomorrow. We've actually resisted that impulse, but it is a strong one.

Before last night, our most recent viewing was in the Hippodrome Theater in Baltimore. It is the perfect venue because it is a beautifully restored old-fashioned theater that strongly resembles the Paris Opera House where Phantom is set. That production was also fabulous.

Which brings us to the Las Vegas version...It was very well done--very professional, well-acted. The costumes were superb, the theater interior was reconstructed just for this production, and it is stunning. There is a live mini-orchestra that sounds like an entire symphony (the percussion dude really gets a workout). We loved the music, the special effects--mist, fireworks, chandelier crashing. The OG is all over the place and a couple of times, they break the "wall" and come down into the audience, treating us as though we are in the theater, too.

You're hearing my "but" aren't you? The hesitation for a full-on Two Thumbs Up is because of our previous experiences. We're Phantom snobs, I know. But, the show lacks that ultimate punch because--even though they are VERY good---the leads aren't awesome. The Phantom is a good singer, but not as expressive as the versions we've seen. His voice doesn't have the range of emotion that the others who did the role. I've seen it and heard it so often, that I was waiting for his voice to crack with sorrow and emotion in certain places, and while he did use some dynamics, they weren't authentic. "Christine" was the best of the principals--she had the range for the songs, but you could tell that those high notes were her limit. "Raul" was pretty good, too, but not fantastic. His passion was sometimes a little meh.

But---it was terrific! Fabulous! Worth the time and money! It's just that I'm able [unfairly] to compare this production that these people do six days of the week--and sometimes twice a night--with no intermission--with the Broadway productions. I don't mean to demean their talent or professionalism. If you love Phantom, you will enjoy this production. The theater is packed every night. We really enjoyed ourselves, but...we've seen better.

Merry Christmas Eve

I wanted to post something Christmas-y and I remembered that a few years ago, I took you on a tour of our living room. I developed a hankering for Nativity sets many years ago and we have collected several. So go to this link:

http://earthsignmamawrites.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-come-let-us-adore-him.html

And then go to this link:

http://earthsignmamawrites.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-come-let-us-adore-him-part-2.html

I hope you enjoy Christmas and have a cookie or two. I'm headed back to the kitchen to finish cutting out and baking the rest of the treats for our Giving Plates. CoolGuy and I will go around to friends' houses and sing and drop off goodies. Then, we'll come home and watch White Christmas or something. Merry Day to you and yours!

Blue Skies Smiling on Me

It's been like we were living in California the last four days here. It rained and rained and rained. Without stopping. Sometimes it would ease off a bit, but it continued to dribble rain down on the desert. I'm glad I live on the uphill side of town.

But today--blue sky! KittyCat was astonished when she was rousted from her sleep. She wandered over to the door, looked out, expecting to see water running off the patio roof, but instead--bue sky! She turned and meowed at me to open the door---glory be! She hurried out to enjoy it.

I've been looking at the destruction this weather hath wrought in California and I feel sad for them. It really is awful to imagine cleaning up from the mudslides. And here, one of the big charity organizations has lost a huge amount of revenue from the holiday lights fundraising activity because they had to shut it down in the rain. Plus, there are so many guys who've bought a water tank on a trailer and set themselves up to wash cars alongside the streets. I'm sure many of them were once in construction, but I admire their pluck to figure out someway to make a buck---but no one has been washing cars.

Here's a video I took in my driveway yesterday to give you an idea of the effect of the continual rain.

Solstice Eclipse

Wow, tonight is the Winter Solstice, and a total lunar eclipse during a full moon, and we won't get to watch the moon. It's raining here in the desert. The weather dudes call it The Pineapple Express because the moisture comes like a fire hose from the tropics because the jet stream has been pushed way south.

I'm amazed at how much rain has fallen today. It hasn't stopped since about 9:00 A.M. It has been gentle, but steady, so all the flood control channels are roiling along with muddy run-off. The usual spots are filled with huge puddles. The desert is mostly flat, so any little indentation will become a shallow lake in weather like this. In the higher areas, there is flash flood danger, so the radio in the car would periodically feature the robot-like voice telling of the warnings and the bad places to avoid.

It is nice to get the rain. We always need it to wash away the grime from the streets. The plants are always grateful. It helps to refill the reservoirs and Lake Mead. In the high elevations, it comes down as snow usually and that also helps the rivers and lakes. This storm may not be much for snow down here, though, because the air is warm. It has been around 60 all day. Last night at midnight we were in the hot tub and the air temperature was 57.

Up in the Sierra Nevadas, however, snow is falling. They're measuring it in feet. California is getting washed away. It's normal. Many things in Cali are done to excess. That's what makes it California.

So, if you live where the sky is clear tonight--go out and enjoy the celestial spectacle of a total lunar eclipse and dance in the coppery light to celebrate the End of Darktimes. From here on out, we get a little bit more sun every day. By February, it will be obvious. This is a good day for me. I miss the sun.

Birthday Time

Since today is our mother's birthday, I pondered what I'd write. It has been four and a half years since she died, and I am astonished that so much time has passed. We miss her, but she is still such a powerful force in all of our lives. Last summer, at our family reunion, we were all asked to send in a memory of her in form of "Since Grandma has been gone..." Some were humorous: "...we leave the butter out to get soft." (She was notorious for using cold, hard butter to spread on bread, and she could do it better than anyone and it does taste good that way.) Another was silly, "...no one laughs and has their teeth come loose." (She had a partial upper plate and it would sometimes slip loose when she laughed hard.) Mine was, "...now I'm the one in my family who says, "S#!t" when they make a stupid or scary mistake." Yes, it slips right off the tongue in a moment of fright or frustration. It would slip off her tongue, too, and scandalize the grandchildren.

I was going to post a story I wrote about a special Christmas gift she received from my dad one year, but I looked back and realized I'd already done that. So you can go back and read it again, if you'd like, part one and part two.

So, today, think of the hard working, great cooking, ever cheerful, doer of good deeds, opinionated, and well-thought-of person who was our mother. Cook something for your friends, or eat some bread and butter, or smile and talk to a stranger in her honor.

Every Day a Marathon

I took off from school on Monday and went to the doctor. My right foot had been aching severely for ten days. It has been diagnosed as posterior tibial tendonitis. The treatment: prescription NSAI, ice and immobilization. I'm sporting the storm trooper boot from this summer's surgery, but now on my right foot. However, without the stitches and wires, it isn't nearly as uncomfortable. It is annoying, though. And no matter how much I try, I cannot successfully find a shoe for the left foot that results in my legs being on the same plane, so the right foot is slightly higher than the left. My hips are sore tonight. But, my foot does hurt less today than yesterday, so perhaps this is a good thing. I've been sitting in my rolling chair, moving myself about the classroom. But, there is still quite a bit of walking that must be done, so I'm exhausted. Two weeks and then I go back and if it isn't much better, we'll do an MRI.

Today, we had an author visit. Our librarian knows someone who knows someone, so we got a presentation. He is in town to promote his new book at a local store. Despite the obvious advertising for his series, he had some great things to say to our 4th and 5th graders about writing. They were captivated by him, and lots of them have read his books so they were excited to meet him. The amusing part for me was during his talk (and slides) he told them 8 powerful things that a writer must do. #1 was Read. Every fourth grader turned and looked at my colleague the reading teacher. #2 was Write...#3 was Write Some More...#4 Revise...#5 Edit. At each of these steps, the whole fourth grade turned to look at me in amazement. After all, here was a celebrity, a person whose books they had read--famous, even--echoing their teacher! I mean, who knew? Someone else saying all those weird things that she said, "Write--Write some more--write about everything that happens in your life. Revise! Edit!" Just amazing...

After the assembly, back in the classroom, I learned an important lesson today from my students. Each year for Christmas, we make a card for their parents. I usually let them use my stamps and create an original design for the cover. Then they write a letter inside to say loving and seasonal things. This year, I found some really cool craft items made of sticky-backed foam where you peel and stick the parts on and then glue the whole thing to a card and put a photo of the student in the center of it. And since we get sticker photos of each kid, it seemed like a great idea.

I realized that, a) it wasn't very creative...you had to follow the exact design--it was peel and stick. b) They were packaged inconveniently---you couldn't just hand a kit to each child--the parts were all joined together in sheets, so people have to sit together and get their five little red shiny shapes after someone else plucked off their five little red shiny shapes. I have 107 students, mind you. This was going to be going on all day. But, we got through the first three classes with astonishing ease. They loved it and they did a good job.

But when I got to the last class, I was panicking. I couldn't find the rest of the supplies. They had their foam ornament shape, but no shine red piece of pre-cut shapes. I could find several partially used pieces of foam. But, mostly, there were just scraps left over from the other groups punching out the precuts. Well, silly teacher, just give us the glittery foam -- we'll take it from here. They got scissors and went to town. It was sticky on the back, so they just cut out their own designs and actually, they created the best looking cards of all! They were well behaved--being enthralled in a bit of creativity and crafting. Tomorrow, we'll write letters and read some Christmas stories and everyone will go home with a cool gift for their parents.

What did I learn? Something I already knew...give children some supplies and an idea and stand back. They love to create and will come up with something marvelous most of the time.

Fuschia Cadillac

I've found CoolGuy's Christmas present! I was driving home along Boulder Highway and passed it parked in a used car lot. What do you think?

Two-door, convertible, tastefully-sized tail fins, whitewalls...

Now this is Vegas Car, Baby.

I would so drive around in this awesome vehicle. And the paint is kinda iridescent, too.

Ahhhh....

You know, I saw some video today of the football stadium in Minneapolis when the roof collapsed because of the vast quantities of snow on it. Then, CoolGuy chatted with me a bit and talked about the steady rain and 40 degrees he is experiencing in Maryland this weekend. I heard how Portland and Seattle are inundated with rain and that they're warning people to stay home and be safe--landslides, mudslides and flooding are the dangers. Right now it is 24 degrees in my hometown in Wyoming, and they are expecting snow all week. Wow, bad weather---this must be winter.

And, yes, I am going to gloat. In Las Vegas today, it was clear and 70 degrees. It was absolutely lovely. I enjoyed every moment of it. And one reason I enjoyed it so much is because I know how good I've got it. You are all invited to come and visit us for Christmas. It will be balmy the whole two weeks of our school vacation. We'd love to have you.

Holiday Cheer

We had a really nice Relief Society dinner tonight. It was held in the meeting room, so it was intimate and pleasant. They had asked for eight different people to be the "hostess" for a table: bring the dishes, silverware, glassware and centerpiece. So I signed up. Three years ago, I fulfilled a lifelong dream and I bought some Christmas dishes with some of the game show money. Then, we've traveled at each of the holidays since I got them, and I've rarely used my festive dishes at home.


Here's a photo of my table setting. Of course, I had to get placemats and napkins, too. I went shopping all weekend trying to find something I liked. I ended up buying a whole gorgeous set at one store and gulping at blowing so much money. Then I went to the discount store and found something perfectly fine for a fraction. So tomorrow after my meeting, I'll go back to the kitchen store and return all the unused pricey stuff.

We ate, sang, listened to a nice Christmas story, but mostly--relaxed. We had two whole hours to sit and eat and talk and it was very lovely. We rarely get to do that during our frantic weekly meetings. Thanks everyone for a pleasant time.

I stacked a salad plate on the dinner plate.

I alternated the colors of the dishes, the placemats and napkins.

(Um..this plate isn't centered on the placemat..oops.)

Naturally, I used a Nativity set for the centerpiece.

Come and visit during December, and I'll serve you food on my cool Christmas dishes.

A Lighter Feeling

I just e-mailed my final exam to the professor, ending another semester of graduate school. Awwww...a giant weight has floated off my brain. I will have to enroll in some class in January, yes, but for now, I have three weeks without homework due.

Of course, I still need to check the homework of the people in the class that I teach on Saturdays. And I'll need to prepare the lesson for this week. So I still have several things hanging over my head.

But, I did stay late at school tonight and print off every report card, sign them and place them in the envelopes. This might sound like not much, but our report cards are unique in that we don't put letter grades on them. We use designations like "approaching" "meets" and "exceeds" to show how a student is in relationship to the individual standards in each subject. Lots of work, yes. So that means that we have to compose our own first page. Then we each write a comment for all 107 fourth graders about our subject. Then, my county has a page called the parent report card that evaluates five areas such as attendance, homework completetion, parent attendance at school events, etc. That's another page I get to fill in on the computer. Then, to print them, I had to manually re-insert the pages so I could print back-to-back to conserve paper. My printer doesn't do it automatically. It took over an hour to print, staple, sign, fold and stuff. BUT IT'S DONE!! I pass them out on Wednesday after the awards assembly.

I've crossed off almost everything from my list that absolutely, positively had to be done before Christmas break. Just a couple more things...then--I restart my daily paper and I get to sleep in and I'll have time to scrub my floors. Whoo-hooo! Vacation!

A Day Off

I had my schedule wrong, I discovered yesterday afternoon. Rather than having to teach the class this morning, I actually...had no where to go...on a Saturday morning. I've been here, in my own home, since I woke up. Wow. And, I didn't set the alarm!

So, I took the spider plants outside and groomed them. Then they went into the bathtub for a nice soaking shower to wash off all the dust and soak up their potting soil. Then, I made some hot cocoa and read a pile of newspapers that have been sitting on my couch for ---a month. Yes, I read old newspapers. The "news" isn't news anymore, but the comics and advice columns are still new to me.

Actually, and this is a sign that the End Is Near, I didn't restart my paper again after we returned from our Thanksgiving trip. I don't have time to read it. Now, my family members reading this will realize that their mother is truly in a crisis of time--no daily paper is being delivered to my house because I don't have time to read it. Ooooh. This is the first time--ever---since I've been married, that I haven't had the paper delivered to my house.

But, I intend to start it up again in a couple of weeks. I'll be on vacation for two weeks at Christmas, and I will, once again, have time to read the daily paper. In the meantime, I'll sign off now, because today I need to:

1. Write 2 of the 5 essay answers to my final exam for the graduate class due Monday night at midnight via e-mail
2. Get my toes done at the nail lady shop (my toenails look like dragon claws)(TMI)
3. Shop for napkins to coordinate with my Christmas dishes for the Relief Society dinner on Tuesday evening, for which I've volunteered to "host" a table
4. Correct some papers to finish getting the grades for the report cards
5. Play the piano at a baptism for former student

That's all. After all, it's my day off.

Blogger of Note at Words of Wisdom

Greetings to friends of Words of Wisdom! Today I get to be the "Blogger of Note," an honor for which I wish to thank my good friend Amy. She nominated me. I hope you'll like what you read here.

My career trajectory went like this: farm girl, dental assistant, wife, stay-home mother of five, college student, and now I teach fourth grade. I've lived in several states since being married due to the nomadic nature of my husband's job. They all have their pleasures, but one of my favorite states is California. I love the sun. Wyoming will always be home, but we're in Las Vegas now because one doesn't ever have to shovel sunshine.

I write because I breath. I love to craft words. Every day I try to teach children to learn to love writing. Blogging is a terrific medium to praise, whine, muse, and vent. I hope you'll enjoy the variety of subjects and find something to entertain you or make you think.

Here are a few of my favorite posts:

Meet the Parents

Family History

A Bird Story in Two Acts

What Teachers Learn

Biblio-Biography

Setting The Bar

So we were watching our favorite re-run shows: Dharma and Greg, and the plot involved their two lives before they were married to each other. Greg had proposed to his girlfriend by putting the ring in a glass of champagne at a nice restaurant. The fiancee was recounting this to her future mother-in-law, who replied, "How romantic!" Then Greg's father, getting himself another Scotch, leaned over to Greg and said, sotto voce, "Slow down, son, you're setting the bar awfully high--it's a long haul." This, of course got a big laugh---even from us.

But, I immediately thought back to when CoolGuy and I were first together. My parents weren't particular demonstrative with each other. I don't recall my dad getting my mom flowers, except perhaps on her birthday. They kissed a little, sometimes he'd give her a little pat on the fanny in passing and she'd giggle and demure. So, anyway---I didn't have great expectations of fabulous romance. Plus, I'd inherited the practical gene from my mom, and I hadn't had any boyfriends up to that point who'd gone out of their way to be particularly chivalrous. And--gee---I'd spent most of my life being manly--hauling hay, milking cows, cleaning barns. I didn't have much practice being a delicate flower of a lady.

But the day that CoolGuy came rolling into the driveway with a bouquet of daisies strapped to the sissybar of his chopper...seriously...that was sooooo romantic and dear. I was bowled over. There was no special occasion, he'd just seen the flower stand lady as he waited at a light and thought of me, and acted on the impulse. It was awesome.

Just like tonight, when I came home from work, dead, and there he was, dressed in his jeans and boots and biker vest with the hand-embroidered "Shovelhead" patch on the back, cleaning the sink as he filled the dishwasher. He set the bar high with the daisies and he just keeps leaping over it, higher and higher.