1. All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. (yes, I plagiarized that from Abe Lincoln, but somehow I don't think he would mind.)
2. Being a mother has brought me great joy.
3. Sharing my daughter's adventures in mothering is another of my great joys.
4. Having sons is a blessing indeed. Our eldest son Ron, next in age son Scott, and Scott (aka Scooter)--I know that was confusing, but it is only because I have two sons named Scott, one by birth and one by marriage. Like on the Bob Newhart show, this is my son Scott, and my other son Scott.
5. My daughters keep me young. Daughter Jeana buys me cool purses and gives me fashion advice; daughter Jamie is reliving my days of shuttling kids from soccer fields to baseball diamonds to basketball courts, and she does it with grace and humor; daughter Nikky who loves purple as much as I do, and writes the most marvelous long e-mails.
6. Being a mother enabled me to become a grandmother to seven amazing young people. And provides me with seven more items for my mother's day blog ;)
7. Sydney, 14, who plays club soccer, has her mother's eyes, and is a head and a half taller than me, but will still sit in my lap.
8. Josh, almost 12, all around athlete, who promises to outgrow his daddy before long, and is always willing to help me move, carry, push, or disassemble whatever needs to be moved, carried, pushed, or disassembled.
9. Merideth, 10, fashionista of the family, who knows all the designer names, and says one day she will marry a man who can afford to buy her a Luis Vuitone shirt that says "spoiled rotten".
10. Katie, almost 10, who just returned from England, writes to me often, and has her mother's sense of humor.
11. Aidan, 8, who plays the fiddle for me (*not* the violin), and can already play Waltz Across Texas like Bob Wills used to.
12. Libby, 7, with the beauty queen smile, missing a couple of teeth right now, and with the curly hair all of us straight-haired gals envy.
13. Dawson, 5, who always has something to say, and always makes me laugh.
They call me Mama, Mom, or Mimi, and they light up my life.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Wednesday Redux
Ok, trying once more to correct my errors.
Jeana tried to help me put in a link for my last post, and I somehow lost everything except the first word. And it was a really good discussion about how to get three meals from one little chicken. I just don't seem to have the right touch when it comes to doing anything more than just blogging--I can't post pictures, I can't make a link work without losing my whole afternoon's work, I guess I am blog-challenged.
Maybe I should have stuck with pen and paper.
Jeana tried to help me put in a link for my last post, and I somehow lost everything except the first word. And it was a really good discussion about how to get three meals from one little chicken. I just don't seem to have the right touch when it comes to doing anything more than just blogging--I can't post pictures, I can't make a link work without losing my whole afternoon's work, I guess I am blog-challenged.
Maybe I should have stuck with pen and paper.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Sunday, May 07, 2006
After the Fair
Did we go to the job fair? yes. Did we see lots of old friends from when we taught in that district before? yes (this was the fun part). Did we come home with job contracts? well......no. But we did get to talk to several people who might, at some point in the dim and distant future, have openings, for which we may or may not qualify, and for which they may or may not call us to arrange interviews.
Actually, the event was interesting, and good practice for interviewing. The way these things work is like this:
You sign in, give your name, address and phone number, and write down what your areas of certification are, then put on a sticky backed name tag which may last until you actually get through the door into the "interview" area. Here you are, in a huge foyer/hallway/gallery, lined with tables all decorated with confetti and streamers, megaphones, pennants, and loaded down with free pencils, gum, mints, and occasionally chocolate which will disappear faster than a dime sized water puddle in the middle of the Sahara. A certain number of these tables will be manned by people from real schools, with real jobs, and signs telling which kinds of positions are open. The others are manned by people who want you to rent their luxury apartments (read: EXPENSIVE), subscribe to their newsletters, magazines, or newspapers, enroll in their pet causes, or pay money to join their organizations, each of which is the ONLY one that REALLY represents the interests of classroom teachers.
The way you tell the difference is to look for lines. Long lines. Interminable lines of people clutching resumes, briefcases, file folders, clipboards, and the kind of ring binders carried by high school students, with glittery borders around pictures of themselves and their friends at drunken orgies. They will be wearing everything from business suits to shorts, dresses to pedal-pushers, even one guy in jeans and a white t-shirt (you know, like John Travolta in Grease), and all with anxious, painful smiles stuck firmly in place with a combination of nerves, determination, and stark fear.
When they get to the front of the line, they reach a table where they sign in AGAIN, give their address and phone number AGAIN, write down their area of certification AGAIN, and wait AGAIN to talk to a real person who can offer a real job.
The relaxed people, with the fixed smiles of trained actors, are the people screening the applicants, making vaguely nice, polite comments that really mean, don't call us, we'll call you.
All of the people who were glad to see us, the ones who hugged us and said oh we are SO glad you are coming back to our district, all of those dear sweet people who might actually HIRE us, didn't have openings on their campus that require the subjects in which we are certified.
The ones who have openings, openings that correspond to our subject areas, are all standing or sitting at the front of a line of people who are ALL determined to be the ONE who gets the contract.
So we stood in line. And stood in line. And stood in another line. And stood in MORE lines. Waiting. Clutching our resumes to our breasts, smiling our anxious smiles, and reassuring each other that if we can just get to talk to the administrator at the end of the line, surely he will recognize our superior qualities, and go on one knee, extending a contract, and begging us to sign on the dotted line.
At the end of the day, we had actually met and shaken hands with a number of principals, talked more than two minutes to some of them, and more than a few minutes with a few of them. One principal knows and likes both of us, but said that he and the others had been told not to make a decision until some time next week, because they are also going to a giant job fair Monday, which will draw representatives of over 60 districts in the metro area, and thousands of applicants, so in fairness to THEM, no one who came Saturday can even be offered a follow-up interview yet.
One principal interviewed us together. That seems kind of hopeful, since we would love to be on the same campus. However, there are no openings in the disciplinary program, which would be our first preference. But maybe that is not what God has in mind for us this time.
Another assistant principal talked to Wick first, for about five minutes, I think. I was talking to the man who called Thursday night to ask if we were planning to come to the job fair. When we met up again, we went to the hospitality room to get a coke and sit down for a few minutes. We checked off all the schools we had already tried, and which we still needed to check on. As we were going back downstairs, we saw the asst. prin. Wick had talked to, and Wick said, hey here is the English teacher I was telling you about.
He spent a few minutes talking to us, then left, saying he was going to speak to his principal about me. We both sort of thought, yeah, right. But he did come back, and did introduce us to his principal, and spent about 20 more minutes talking to me and asking me questions. They both gave us their business cards, and said if we don't hear from them in a few days, to give them a call. So.....
Here we are with another cliff-hanger, which will probably not be resolved for several days. Will the handsome hero find a job? Will his lovely wife be offered a contract? Will Frankie the pom ever get another bag of Pupperoni, or will he turn up his pointy little nose at the Ol' Roy brand?
Stay tuned....
Actually, the event was interesting, and good practice for interviewing. The way these things work is like this:
You sign in, give your name, address and phone number, and write down what your areas of certification are, then put on a sticky backed name tag which may last until you actually get through the door into the "interview" area. Here you are, in a huge foyer/hallway/gallery, lined with tables all decorated with confetti and streamers, megaphones, pennants, and loaded down with free pencils, gum, mints, and occasionally chocolate which will disappear faster than a dime sized water puddle in the middle of the Sahara. A certain number of these tables will be manned by people from real schools, with real jobs, and signs telling which kinds of positions are open. The others are manned by people who want you to rent their luxury apartments (read: EXPENSIVE), subscribe to their newsletters, magazines, or newspapers, enroll in their pet causes, or pay money to join their organizations, each of which is the ONLY one that REALLY represents the interests of classroom teachers.
The way you tell the difference is to look for lines. Long lines. Interminable lines of people clutching resumes, briefcases, file folders, clipboards, and the kind of ring binders carried by high school students, with glittery borders around pictures of themselves and their friends at drunken orgies. They will be wearing everything from business suits to shorts, dresses to pedal-pushers, even one guy in jeans and a white t-shirt (you know, like John Travolta in Grease), and all with anxious, painful smiles stuck firmly in place with a combination of nerves, determination, and stark fear.
When they get to the front of the line, they reach a table where they sign in AGAIN, give their address and phone number AGAIN, write down their area of certification AGAIN, and wait AGAIN to talk to a real person who can offer a real job.
The relaxed people, with the fixed smiles of trained actors, are the people screening the applicants, making vaguely nice, polite comments that really mean, don't call us, we'll call you.
All of the people who were glad to see us, the ones who hugged us and said oh we are SO glad you are coming back to our district, all of those dear sweet people who might actually HIRE us, didn't have openings on their campus that require the subjects in which we are certified.
The ones who have openings, openings that correspond to our subject areas, are all standing or sitting at the front of a line of people who are ALL determined to be the ONE who gets the contract.
So we stood in line. And stood in line. And stood in another line. And stood in MORE lines. Waiting. Clutching our resumes to our breasts, smiling our anxious smiles, and reassuring each other that if we can just get to talk to the administrator at the end of the line, surely he will recognize our superior qualities, and go on one knee, extending a contract, and begging us to sign on the dotted line.
At the end of the day, we had actually met and shaken hands with a number of principals, talked more than two minutes to some of them, and more than a few minutes with a few of them. One principal knows and likes both of us, but said that he and the others had been told not to make a decision until some time next week, because they are also going to a giant job fair Monday, which will draw representatives of over 60 districts in the metro area, and thousands of applicants, so in fairness to THEM, no one who came Saturday can even be offered a follow-up interview yet.
One principal interviewed us together. That seems kind of hopeful, since we would love to be on the same campus. However, there are no openings in the disciplinary program, which would be our first preference. But maybe that is not what God has in mind for us this time.
Another assistant principal talked to Wick first, for about five minutes, I think. I was talking to the man who called Thursday night to ask if we were planning to come to the job fair. When we met up again, we went to the hospitality room to get a coke and sit down for a few minutes. We checked off all the schools we had already tried, and which we still needed to check on. As we were going back downstairs, we saw the asst. prin. Wick had talked to, and Wick said, hey here is the English teacher I was telling you about.
He spent a few minutes talking to us, then left, saying he was going to speak to his principal about me. We both sort of thought, yeah, right. But he did come back, and did introduce us to his principal, and spent about 20 more minutes talking to me and asking me questions. They both gave us their business cards, and said if we don't hear from them in a few days, to give them a call. So.....
Here we are with another cliff-hanger, which will probably not be resolved for several days. Will the handsome hero find a job? Will his lovely wife be offered a contract? Will Frankie the pom ever get another bag of Pupperoni, or will he turn up his pointy little nose at the Ol' Roy brand?
Stay tuned....
Friday, May 05, 2006
Freaky Thursday
Okay, y'all, be patient, cuz I just got totally freaked out last night, but it will take me a while to get to the point.
Y'all know that Wick and I have resigned from our jobs, and started looking for something else which will pay enough to feed us and keep Frankie the pom in doggie biscuits. Well, yesterday afternoon, instead of working on my electronic grade book, which I should have been doing, since this is the third week of the reporting period, and progress reports are due, I was busy sending e-mails to everyone in my school e-mail address book telling them not to use the school e-mail address afte the end of May, since I won't be here to read their messages, or to answer them. (Breathe).
So... as I was saying, I sent out a gazillion e-mails, and some--well, okay, a lot--of them went to people from my e-mail address book at my last job, last year,when I also sent out a gazillion e-mails to everyone in my electronic address book, telling them I was leaving there, and coming here. (Is anybody still with me?)
One of those people was a man I used to teach with, and his wife was an aide in our school. Dear people, solid strong Christians, just wonderful people, but we had not stayed in touch other than accidentally runing into each other at a restaurant or the mall or whatever.
To make a long story short (I know, too late), He got my e-mail about changing e-mail addresses, and guess what? he is now a principal--that means he hires teachers to work for him--and he wanted to know if we were planning to come to his district's job fair Saturday?
Well, *yeah*, definitely (we are *now* even if we weren't before). So we are going to this job fair to see our good buddy who is now a principal, and knows other principals, and even if he can't place us on his campus, maybe he knows somebody who could, and wow doesn't it just freak you out when God opens a door that way, even if you didn't actually say a prayer when you were sending out all those gazillions of e-mails? It does me.....I am still feeling like, oh my word, what just happened?
Is God great or what?
Stay tuned for further developments to find out if Frankie is going to continue to get his favorite Pupperoni, or is he going to have to settle for Ol' Roy's cheapo treats?
Y'all know that Wick and I have resigned from our jobs, and started looking for something else which will pay enough to feed us and keep Frankie the pom in doggie biscuits. Well, yesterday afternoon, instead of working on my electronic grade book, which I should have been doing, since this is the third week of the reporting period, and progress reports are due, I was busy sending e-mails to everyone in my school e-mail address book telling them not to use the school e-mail address afte the end of May, since I won't be here to read their messages, or to answer them. (Breathe).
So... as I was saying, I sent out a gazillion e-mails, and some--well, okay, a lot--of them went to people from my e-mail address book at my last job, last year,when I also sent out a gazillion e-mails to everyone in my electronic address book, telling them I was leaving there, and coming here. (Is anybody still with me?)
One of those people was a man I used to teach with, and his wife was an aide in our school. Dear people, solid strong Christians, just wonderful people, but we had not stayed in touch other than accidentally runing into each other at a restaurant or the mall or whatever.
To make a long story short (I know, too late), He got my e-mail about changing e-mail addresses, and guess what? he is now a principal--that means he hires teachers to work for him--and he wanted to know if we were planning to come to his district's job fair Saturday?
Well, *yeah*, definitely (we are *now* even if we weren't before). So we are going to this job fair to see our good buddy who is now a principal, and knows other principals, and even if he can't place us on his campus, maybe he knows somebody who could, and wow doesn't it just freak you out when God opens a door that way, even if you didn't actually say a prayer when you were sending out all those gazillions of e-mails? It does me.....I am still feeling like, oh my word, what just happened?
Is God great or what?
Stay tuned for further developments to find out if Frankie is going to continue to get his favorite Pupperoni, or is he going to have to settle for Ol' Roy's cheapo treats?
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Wednesday Works for Me
I hate coming home from work and having to cook. So I try to find ways to cook less often. Here's one idea.
When we buy bulk hamburger, I cook it right then. 5 or 10 pounds at a time, if we have freezer space. Hamburger, salt and pepper, and chopped onion is the basis for several different recipes--chili, spaghetti sauce, creamed hamburger, Mexican casserole, taco salad, to name just 5. Divide the cooked meat into recipe-size portions, put in freezer containers, and into the freezer. Or put the portions into freezer bags, flatten as much as possible, and squeeze out as much air as possible. These flat packages freeze faster and thaw faster than containers.
Move one to the refrigerator in the morning, and by evening it is ready for whichever recipe we want that night. It seems to me that the meal is half-done, when the meat is already cooked. For taco salad, just warm up the meat, add chili powder, add some fresh chopped tomatoes, and wrap in lettuce leaves, or pour over lettuce.
I'm just not willing to spend more than ten or fifteen minutes geting supper on the table when we get home.
Another tip: marry a man who cooks better than you, and turn the kitchen over to him. Works for me!
When we buy bulk hamburger, I cook it right then. 5 or 10 pounds at a time, if we have freezer space. Hamburger, salt and pepper, and chopped onion is the basis for several different recipes--chili, spaghetti sauce, creamed hamburger, Mexican casserole, taco salad, to name just 5. Divide the cooked meat into recipe-size portions, put in freezer containers, and into the freezer. Or put the portions into freezer bags, flatten as much as possible, and squeeze out as much air as possible. These flat packages freeze faster and thaw faster than containers.
Move one to the refrigerator in the morning, and by evening it is ready for whichever recipe we want that night. It seems to me that the meal is half-done, when the meat is already cooked. For taco salad, just warm up the meat, add chili powder, add some fresh chopped tomatoes, and wrap in lettuce leaves, or pour over lettuce.
I'm just not willing to spend more than ten or fifteen minutes geting supper on the table when we get home.
Another tip: marry a man who cooks better than you, and turn the kitchen over to him. Works for me!
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Eighteen Days to Go
Eighteen more school days left in this school year.
18 more days to get up at five a.m. to eat breakfast, throw on my clothes, and drive to school.
18 more days of...
Grading papers;
Entering grades in the electronic grade book:
Planning lessons for ten different classes;
Making copies of lessons for ten different classes;
Dealing with students who think they are in charge instead of us;
Orienting new students;
Not having enough copies because we got new students without previous notice;
Keeping a discipline log on each student;
Sitting with students who have detention;
Driving to and from school with Wick;
Having lunch with Wick;
Working in the same classroom with Wick;
Wick winking at me without changing expression so that the kids don't notice;
Being able to talk about the day's events without much background explanation, because we both know the people involved;
Wick helping me figure out how to make the on-line grading program work;
Sending each other e-mails during our conference period, so that we are communicating without anyone else in our office knowing what we are saying;
Praying that we will get jobs together for next year.
18 more days to get up at five a.m. to eat breakfast, throw on my clothes, and drive to school.
18 more days of...
Grading papers;
Entering grades in the electronic grade book:
Planning lessons for ten different classes;
Making copies of lessons for ten different classes;
Dealing with students who think they are in charge instead of us;
Orienting new students;
Not having enough copies because we got new students without previous notice;
Keeping a discipline log on each student;
Sitting with students who have detention;
Driving to and from school with Wick;
Having lunch with Wick;
Working in the same classroom with Wick;
Wick winking at me without changing expression so that the kids don't notice;
Being able to talk about the day's events without much background explanation, because we both know the people involved;
Wick helping me figure out how to make the on-line grading program work;
Sending each other e-mails during our conference period, so that we are communicating without anyone else in our office knowing what we are saying;
Praying that we will get jobs together for next year.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Broken Toys
I've been thinking about something that happened when I was a very little girl.
I had a dolly that I loved. I took my dolly with me everywhere. We played together, slept together, even went to church together. One day my dolly's arm came off. I was crying as I took my dolly to Daddy. In my mind, my daddy, who was a carpenter, coud make anything, and fix anything.
I clutched my dolly in my arms as I sobbed. "Dolly's broke. Daddy, fix."
Daddy took me in his arms and sat me on his knee, then tried to take my dolly from my arms. I clutched tightly, unwilling to let dolly go. Daddy certainly could have taken my dolly from me by force, but he didn't struggle with me. He sat for a while holding me, stroking my hair, patting my back, but still I clung to dolly, unwilling to let him take her from me.
Finally. Daddy said, "Peanut, I can't fix your dolly unless you give her to me."
Sometimes, I see myself as that little girl, crying about the brokenness in my life, begging God to fix it, but unwilling to let go. I know I'm not the only one who does this. Alcoholics Anonymous (how I know about AA is a whole other story) has a bumper sticker that says, "Let Go, and Let God."
The first time I saw this sticker, I was puzzled. But after I thought about it, I realized that I'm not the only one who brings my troubles to Him, and then won't let go so that He can have control.
I heard Mercyme singing this morning a song I had never heard, about "so long, self."
Whether it is my self, or someone else in my life who is troubled, I need to give it to God, and let Him make of it what he will. He can't fix it, until I let go.
I had a dolly that I loved. I took my dolly with me everywhere. We played together, slept together, even went to church together. One day my dolly's arm came off. I was crying as I took my dolly to Daddy. In my mind, my daddy, who was a carpenter, coud make anything, and fix anything.
I clutched my dolly in my arms as I sobbed. "Dolly's broke. Daddy, fix."
Daddy took me in his arms and sat me on his knee, then tried to take my dolly from my arms. I clutched tightly, unwilling to let dolly go. Daddy certainly could have taken my dolly from me by force, but he didn't struggle with me. He sat for a while holding me, stroking my hair, patting my back, but still I clung to dolly, unwilling to let him take her from me.
Finally. Daddy said, "Peanut, I can't fix your dolly unless you give her to me."
Sometimes, I see myself as that little girl, crying about the brokenness in my life, begging God to fix it, but unwilling to let go. I know I'm not the only one who does this. Alcoholics Anonymous (how I know about AA is a whole other story) has a bumper sticker that says, "Let Go, and Let God."
The first time I saw this sticker, I was puzzled. But after I thought about it, I realized that I'm not the only one who brings my troubles to Him, and then won't let go so that He can have control.
I heard Mercyme singing this morning a song I had never heard, about "so long, self."
Whether it is my self, or someone else in my life who is troubled, I need to give it to God, and let Him make of it what he will. He can't fix it, until I let go.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Rain
Rain is in the forecast today.
I love rainy days.
I love rainy nights.
I especially love the sound of rain on our "tin" roof--we live in our RV, so the sound of the rain is more amplified than in a house, I think.
I love to curl up in granny b's quilt and read when it is cool and rainy.
I love taking a nap on a rainy afternoon.
I love walking in the rain on a warm summer afternoon.
I love the squish of mud between my toes when I am barefoot.
but not when I am wearing my favorite sandals.
I love to sit in the boat in its covered slip and watch the rain come down.
My husband likes to drive in the rain, especially when it is stormy, with thunder and lightening. Our pom Frankie loves to ride in the car when it is raining. Of course, he loves to ride in the car any time. Just rattle your car keys and he is sooo ready.
Our grandchildren like playing in the rain, splashing in puddles, making mud pies and mud roadways and mud forts and....mud anything.
I love watching the rain fall on the lake. Sometimes it's like a silvery curtain moving across the water.That makes me think about Genesis, when the Holy Spirit moved upon the face of the water...wonder if that is what it looked like.
I love sitting under our canopy, drinking coffee, watching the rain fall, holding hands with Wick, and listening to him hum a song under his breath.
We both love rain.
I love rainy days.
I love rainy nights.
I especially love the sound of rain on our "tin" roof--we live in our RV, so the sound of the rain is more amplified than in a house, I think.
I love to curl up in granny b's quilt and read when it is cool and rainy.
I love taking a nap on a rainy afternoon.
I love walking in the rain on a warm summer afternoon.
I love the squish of mud between my toes when I am barefoot.
but not when I am wearing my favorite sandals.
I love to sit in the boat in its covered slip and watch the rain come down.
My husband likes to drive in the rain, especially when it is stormy, with thunder and lightening. Our pom Frankie loves to ride in the car when it is raining. Of course, he loves to ride in the car any time. Just rattle your car keys and he is sooo ready.
Our grandchildren like playing in the rain, splashing in puddles, making mud pies and mud roadways and mud forts and....mud anything.
I love watching the rain fall on the lake. Sometimes it's like a silvery curtain moving across the water.That makes me think about Genesis, when the Holy Spirit moved upon the face of the water...wonder if that is what it looked like.
I love sitting under our canopy, drinking coffee, watching the rain fall, holding hands with Wick, and listening to him hum a song under his breath.
We both love rain.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Thursday Thirteen
1. Tomorrow is blue jean Friday.
2. The chicken nuggets we had for supper were delicious, so we brought the leftovers for lunch today.
3. Twenty-one days of school left.
4. It's spring, and the kids are going crazy. It seems as if I am spending half my day writing disciplinary reports.
5. Wick is going to a job fair next week, so we are praying hard that he gets offered a contract.
6. I want to to the "I'm from" thing, but just haven't gotten my thoughts in order yet. Of course, that is sort of a chronic condition, because I keep drifting off on rabbit trails, but maybe one of these days.....now what was it I was talking about?
7. The roof of my mouth is sore. Well, not exactly the roof--not the smooth part--it's that sort of corrugated part right behind my front teeth, and every time I bite down, it is tender and it hurts because I guess it is swollen, and my bottom front teeth dig in, whereas they don't normally, but they are right now, and it is bugging me.
8. I use purple paper for all my assignments. Wick doesn't. He knows that I use purple, and that I make copies first thing every morning, as soon as we get to school, before anyone else gets here, but he comes in and takes off the stuff I was copying, and sticks his stuff in the copier, and then gets provoked because his stuff starts coming out on purple paper, but does he look in the paper drawer to see if purple paper is still there? He does not. He just punches the copy button, and expects it to shoot out copies on white paper.
9. We are making copies of an announcement to remind the students that we do have school Monday. It was supposed to be a day off, but we had that icy spell way back at the beginning of winter, and the buses didn't run (this is a rural area, and we hardly ever have ice, so we are not equipped for it), and we had a day off, so we have to make it up Monday, but they (the students) don't even remember having an icy day and not coming to school, so all day we have been listening to them argue about whether they come to school Monday or not, and if not, why not.
10. I just concluded that I don't actually have 13 things to say right now, so I am going to stop for the moment, and if I think of anything else, I'll add it later.
2. The chicken nuggets we had for supper were delicious, so we brought the leftovers for lunch today.
3. Twenty-one days of school left.
4. It's spring, and the kids are going crazy. It seems as if I am spending half my day writing disciplinary reports.
5. Wick is going to a job fair next week, so we are praying hard that he gets offered a contract.
6. I want to to the "I'm from" thing, but just haven't gotten my thoughts in order yet. Of course, that is sort of a chronic condition, because I keep drifting off on rabbit trails, but maybe one of these days.....now what was it I was talking about?
7. The roof of my mouth is sore. Well, not exactly the roof--not the smooth part--it's that sort of corrugated part right behind my front teeth, and every time I bite down, it is tender and it hurts because I guess it is swollen, and my bottom front teeth dig in, whereas they don't normally, but they are right now, and it is bugging me.
8. I use purple paper for all my assignments. Wick doesn't. He knows that I use purple, and that I make copies first thing every morning, as soon as we get to school, before anyone else gets here, but he comes in and takes off the stuff I was copying, and sticks his stuff in the copier, and then gets provoked because his stuff starts coming out on purple paper, but does he look in the paper drawer to see if purple paper is still there? He does not. He just punches the copy button, and expects it to shoot out copies on white paper.
9. We are making copies of an announcement to remind the students that we do have school Monday. It was supposed to be a day off, but we had that icy spell way back at the beginning of winter, and the buses didn't run (this is a rural area, and we hardly ever have ice, so we are not equipped for it), and we had a day off, so we have to make it up Monday, but they (the students) don't even remember having an icy day and not coming to school, so all day we have been listening to them argue about whether they come to school Monday or not, and if not, why not.
10. I just concluded that I don't actually have 13 things to say right now, so I am going to stop for the moment, and if I think of anything else, I'll add it later.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Wednesday Wanderings
1. We have four weeks and three days until summer.
2. It was cooler today. There is something just not right about temps. in the 90s in April.
3. I am almost finished with the blanket bunny I am crocheting for the newest baby in the family, Hunter Cade.
4. I found "fun fur" crochet yarn on clearance at Wal-mart for a dollar a ball--I paid nearly $5. last time I bought some to dress up flipflops for the granddaughters.
5. Someone has asked me for advice, and I don't quite feel that I know what to say.....wow, me speechless? Nah, can't be true. I'll have to think of *something*.
6. Next week is the 3rd week of the 6 weeks, so I need to get my e-gradebook set up for the last reporting period.
7. Wick is making chicken nuggets for supper.
8. I've been discovering new blogs, by clicking on blogs listed by people whose blogs I already read. What a variety of styles and subjects and personalities!
9. One of the tunes played at Aidan's violin guild Sunday is still stuck in my head. What do people say now that we no longer play records, and the expression "like a broken record" doesn't really mean anything to a generation who only knows CDs and music downloads?
10. As Katie has been playing with her "English" accent, and using bits of vocabulary from Pride & Prejudice, I am hearing expressions my grandmother used to say. For example, she would say, "I'm fixing to go to the store directly, if you want to go." The "fixin to" part is very southern, of course, but "directly" meaning immediately or very soon is so English. Wonder how many other expressions we think of as southern or American idioms are really a vestige of our English heritage?
No real point to all this, just meandering and thinking--I started to say thinking out loud, but actually it's on blog ;)
2. It was cooler today. There is something just not right about temps. in the 90s in April.
3. I am almost finished with the blanket bunny I am crocheting for the newest baby in the family, Hunter Cade.
4. I found "fun fur" crochet yarn on clearance at Wal-mart for a dollar a ball--I paid nearly $5. last time I bought some to dress up flipflops for the granddaughters.
5. Someone has asked me for advice, and I don't quite feel that I know what to say.....wow, me speechless? Nah, can't be true. I'll have to think of *something*.
6. Next week is the 3rd week of the 6 weeks, so I need to get my e-gradebook set up for the last reporting period.
7. Wick is making chicken nuggets for supper.
8. I've been discovering new blogs, by clicking on blogs listed by people whose blogs I already read. What a variety of styles and subjects and personalities!
9. One of the tunes played at Aidan's violin guild Sunday is still stuck in my head. What do people say now that we no longer play records, and the expression "like a broken record" doesn't really mean anything to a generation who only knows CDs and music downloads?
10. As Katie has been playing with her "English" accent, and using bits of vocabulary from Pride & Prejudice, I am hearing expressions my grandmother used to say. For example, she would say, "I'm fixing to go to the store directly, if you want to go." The "fixin to" part is very southern, of course, but "directly" meaning immediately or very soon is so English. Wonder how many other expressions we think of as southern or American idioms are really a vestige of our English heritage?
No real point to all this, just meandering and thinking--I started to say thinking out loud, but actually it's on blog ;)
TAKS testing
For those of you who do not live in Texas, TAKS stands for Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills. Before the kids take TAKS, we are supposed to teach TEKS--Texas Essential Knowledge and Skills. The operating assumption on the part of those who designed the tests is that all students will be proficient in all academic areas. Whoa.
Suppose we had a school for animals, and wanted them all to be equally proficient? The duck would get A+ in swimming and diving, but fail tree climbing. The squirrel would get A+ in tree climbing but refuse to take swimming class, which would result in a disciplinary action. The horse would ace running, but fail honey gathering; the bear would pass honey gathering, but only get a C in running.
My point....and I do have one... is that we do not all have the same gifts, nor do we all have the same intelligences or learning styles. Whereas I excell in vocabulary, grammar and writing skills, I am woefully inadequate in math--I'm not sure I could even get a diploma, let alone a college degree, if I were in high school these days.
So why are we as a society holding all students to the same standard? Why are we assuming, as an educational institution, that all students are going to college, and therefore should all be taking the college prep courses? We may be slowing running out of ditch digging jobs, but we will always, I think, need plumbers, electricians, mechanics, people who work with their hands as much as with their minds, who don't excel at distinguishing good poetry from rubbish, but who can keep the sewers operating, the lights burning, and our cars running.
Okay, there's my rant for today.
But relative to the subject is this conversation I had with a new teacher, about 10 days before TAKS testing was scheduled:
New Teacher: What does TAKS stand for?
Me: Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills.
NT: Oh. So what does TEKS stand for?
Me: Texas Essential Knowledge and Skills.
NT: Hmm. I gues that I should teach the TEKS before the kids take the TAKS then?
Me: (suppressing laughter) Yes, that would probably be a good idea.
Suppose we had a school for animals, and wanted them all to be equally proficient? The duck would get A+ in swimming and diving, but fail tree climbing. The squirrel would get A+ in tree climbing but refuse to take swimming class, which would result in a disciplinary action. The horse would ace running, but fail honey gathering; the bear would pass honey gathering, but only get a C in running.
My point....and I do have one... is that we do not all have the same gifts, nor do we all have the same intelligences or learning styles. Whereas I excell in vocabulary, grammar and writing skills, I am woefully inadequate in math--I'm not sure I could even get a diploma, let alone a college degree, if I were in high school these days.
So why are we as a society holding all students to the same standard? Why are we assuming, as an educational institution, that all students are going to college, and therefore should all be taking the college prep courses? We may be slowing running out of ditch digging jobs, but we will always, I think, need plumbers, electricians, mechanics, people who work with their hands as much as with their minds, who don't excel at distinguishing good poetry from rubbish, but who can keep the sewers operating, the lights burning, and our cars running.
Okay, there's my rant for today.
But relative to the subject is this conversation I had with a new teacher, about 10 days before TAKS testing was scheduled:
New Teacher: What does TAKS stand for?
Me: Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills.
NT: Oh. So what does TEKS stand for?
Me: Texas Essential Knowledge and Skills.
NT: Hmm. I gues that I should teach the TEKS before the kids take the TAKS then?
Me: (suppressing laughter) Yes, that would probably be a good idea.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Conversation with Dawson
Yesterday afternoon Aidan asked me to tell a story about my childhood. I told him, Libby, and Dawson about when I was about 8 years old, playing with my dog, a black spaniel named Lady. Lady ran out into the street, and I went after her. A lady hit me with her car, and knocked me down.
At this point, Dawson said, "Ohhhh MiMi, did you die?"
At this point, Dawson said, "Ohhhh MiMi, did you die?"
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Thursday Thirteen
This is my first attempt at Thursday 13, so bear with me. I'm not sure I can come up with 13 things.
1. TAKS week, TAKS testing, standardized testing in general--I could do a *lengthy* blog on this issue.
2. end of the six weeks, averaging grades, messaging parents--another lengthy blog topic.
3. Rain! Blessed rain!! rain to grow the grass, rain to refill our lake, rain to freshen the wildflowers!!!
4. The metal "crane" I got Wick for his birthday actually lights up at night, just like the picture shows in the catalog, and looks great standing next to the end of the dock.
5. A former student introduced me to his friend as "the most awesome teacher ever."
6. Chicken salad in the school cafeteria, one of the best things they have *ever* served.
7. Blue jeans Friday--yayyyyy!!
8. The new capris and tops I ordered fit beautifully, and look even better than in the catalog (remember, I hate to shop in person).
9. Frankie ate all his kibble on the tile tonight, instead of hiding bits of it under the furniture and under the bath mats.
10. Spending the weekend at Jeana's.
11. Seeing Aidan at his violin guild awards this Sunday afternoon.
12. Shopping for granddaughter Sydney's "True Love Waits" ring, which she requested for her 14th birthday in two weeks.
13. It is still raining! I love rainy nights.
1. TAKS week, TAKS testing, standardized testing in general--I could do a *lengthy* blog on this issue.
2. end of the six weeks, averaging grades, messaging parents--another lengthy blog topic.
3. Rain! Blessed rain!! rain to grow the grass, rain to refill our lake, rain to freshen the wildflowers!!!
4. The metal "crane" I got Wick for his birthday actually lights up at night, just like the picture shows in the catalog, and looks great standing next to the end of the dock.
5. A former student introduced me to his friend as "the most awesome teacher ever."
6. Chicken salad in the school cafeteria, one of the best things they have *ever* served.
7. Blue jeans Friday--yayyyyy!!
8. The new capris and tops I ordered fit beautifully, and look even better than in the catalog (remember, I hate to shop in person).
9. Frankie ate all his kibble on the tile tonight, instead of hiding bits of it under the furniture and under the bath mats.
10. Spending the weekend at Jeana's.
11. Seeing Aidan at his violin guild awards this Sunday afternoon.
12. Shopping for granddaughter Sydney's "True Love Waits" ring, which she requested for her 14th birthday in two weeks.
13. It is still raining! I love rainy nights.
Quitting our jobs
Last May Wick was finishing his first year with a school district fairly close to our lake place. I had been teaching in the Dallas area for several years, and looking for something closer to where Wick was teaching. On Memorial weekend, his principal called me in for an interview and hired me. We were elated. We would be working together, in the same program, and could live at the lake full-time.
The first eight weeks were great, driving to and from work together, having lunch together, enjoying our work, and happy to be working for our principal, a strong Christian.
Then....eight weeks into the year, our principal told us he was going to leave. He had been having major health problems, and his doctor had advised that he take a less stressful job. We got a new principal.
On the one hand, we were sad to see our principal leave. On the other hand, we had a commitment to the program, and to the kids, and wanted the new principal to be successful. As the days and weeks went by, we both found certain events unsettling, uncomfortable, unpleasant, even. But we reminded each other how much we were enjoying working together, and living at our lake place.
Then, one day, we sat down to eat lunch together as usual. We looked at each other, and almost in chorus said, "I think we need to leave here. There is somewhere else we need to be."
We wrote our letters of resignation.
We feel that we acted on faith in God and in each other. Both of us having the same thought at the same time seemed to confirm the rightness of our decision.
So here we are, looking for different jobs. Some days, I feel a bit stressed about all the effort that goes into looking for a job: writing resumes, asking for letters of recommendation, getting copies made, etc.
But underneath the "busyness", in my heart, I feel a great sense of peace about our decision, and excitement about what God has planned for us in the future. Are we crazy? I don't know. don't think so. We both feel that God has given us a spiritual gift for teaching and working with students in disciplinary programs. He will not allow that gift to go to waste. Perhaps we will find and use other gifts; perhaps this particular gift will not be the focus for the immediate future; we don't know where we are going, but we look forward to finding out.
The first eight weeks were great, driving to and from work together, having lunch together, enjoying our work, and happy to be working for our principal, a strong Christian.
Then....eight weeks into the year, our principal told us he was going to leave. He had been having major health problems, and his doctor had advised that he take a less stressful job. We got a new principal.
On the one hand, we were sad to see our principal leave. On the other hand, we had a commitment to the program, and to the kids, and wanted the new principal to be successful. As the days and weeks went by, we both found certain events unsettling, uncomfortable, unpleasant, even. But we reminded each other how much we were enjoying working together, and living at our lake place.
Then, one day, we sat down to eat lunch together as usual. We looked at each other, and almost in chorus said, "I think we need to leave here. There is somewhere else we need to be."
We wrote our letters of resignation.
We feel that we acted on faith in God and in each other. Both of us having the same thought at the same time seemed to confirm the rightness of our decision.
So here we are, looking for different jobs. Some days, I feel a bit stressed about all the effort that goes into looking for a job: writing resumes, asking for letters of recommendation, getting copies made, etc.
But underneath the "busyness", in my heart, I feel a great sense of peace about our decision, and excitement about what God has planned for us in the future. Are we crazy? I don't know. don't think so. We both feel that God has given us a spiritual gift for teaching and working with students in disciplinary programs. He will not allow that gift to go to waste. Perhaps we will find and use other gifts; perhaps this particular gift will not be the focus for the immediate future; we don't know where we are going, but we look forward to finding out.
Monday, April 17, 2006
6 Weird Things About Me
Lauren tagged me for this one. Hmmmm......six weird things.....okay, here goes:
1. I have absolutely no sense of direction. But then you already knew that, if you have been reading my blogs.
2. I like to sleep in a very dark, very cold room, with two quilts, and all-cotton sheets (percale, because they are so soft and smooth).
3. I don't even notice when Frankie (our pomeranian) licks me--which drives Jeana insane with horror.
4. I don't really like to shop.
5. I hate to sweat. That's why I hate to exercise.
6. I read obsessively. Labels. Instructions. The backs of cereal boxes.
Who's next to admit to 6 weird things? Geekwif? Kelsey? Jenna? Jenny? Diane? Mary?
1. I have absolutely no sense of direction. But then you already knew that, if you have been reading my blogs.
2. I like to sleep in a very dark, very cold room, with two quilts, and all-cotton sheets (percale, because they are so soft and smooth).
3. I don't even notice when Frankie (our pomeranian) licks me--which drives Jeana insane with horror.
4. I don't really like to shop.
5. I hate to sweat. That's why I hate to exercise.
6. I read obsessively. Labels. Instructions. The backs of cereal boxes.
Who's next to admit to 6 weird things? Geekwif? Kelsey? Jenna? Jenny? Diane? Mary?
Ten Simple Pleasures
Carol tagged me for this, and after reading hers, I had to think a while, since I didn't want to duplicate hers. (Carol, I too love pedicures--feels so luxurious!)
1. Getting to sleep late on Saturdays.
2. Having a husband who makes coffee *and* breakfast before waking me up.
3. Having time for a third cup of coffee before we leave for work.
4. Having grandbabies who still sit in my lap, even the ones who are taller than me.
5. Early morning talk while drinking coffee with Jeana's Scott, while she gets to sleep late after staying up until 4:30 Sat. morning with her brother, working on her new blog site.
6. Sitting on the dock watching Wick fish, and applauding when he catches one.
7. Six adult children who talk to me as friends as well as family.
8. Getting to be with my husband virtually 24 hours a day, driving, working, having lunch, living on the lake.
9. Reading other people's blogs.
10. Eating good chocolate--especially dark chocolate.
1. Getting to sleep late on Saturdays.
2. Having a husband who makes coffee *and* breakfast before waking me up.
3. Having time for a third cup of coffee before we leave for work.
4. Having grandbabies who still sit in my lap, even the ones who are taller than me.
5. Early morning talk while drinking coffee with Jeana's Scott, while she gets to sleep late after staying up until 4:30 Sat. morning with her brother, working on her new blog site.
6. Sitting on the dock watching Wick fish, and applauding when he catches one.
7. Six adult children who talk to me as friends as well as family.
8. Getting to be with my husband virtually 24 hours a day, driving, working, having lunch, living on the lake.
9. Reading other people's blogs.
10. Eating good chocolate--especially dark chocolate.
Family Stuff
Wick and I spent the weekend at Jeana's, starting Thursday night. Our son Ron and wife Nikky came from near Houston,and son Scott and family came Sat. along with some cousins. There were 29 of us, I think, and it was great.
Jeana's Scott came in from work Friday and saw wonton wrappers in the refrigerator. He said, "Are you making Chinese for tomorrow?" I said yes, and he began to dance me around the kitchen, he was so excited. He is so easily pleased, and I enjoy cooking for him.
Jeana and I shopped for food Friday, while Nikky entertained the little ones in the toy department. While we were checking out, we saw a magazine cover about Gwenyth Paltrow's new baby. She named the first Apple, and this second one Moses. Jeana said she thought that Adam would have gone better with Apple; I said I thought she should have named him MacIntosh (see Jeana's entry about Adam and Eve getting involved with the apple).
On our way to Jeana's Thursday, we stopped at Flying J truck stop to get deisel and fill the propane tank. The propane guy always makes us get out of the RV, because he says it could blow up while he is filling the tank. (!) So I was standing between the propane tank and the deisel pumps, holding Frankie and hoping the RV wouldn't blow up, when a big burly truck driver climbed down out of his 18 wheeler and approached me.
"Is that a Pomeranian?" he asked.
I said yes.
He said," My wife has one of those. Every time she goes out to take a ____, her ___ gets all ______ and I have to scrub her ___ before she can get back into the truck."
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was talking about the Pomeranian, and not his wife.
Jeana's oven caught on fire Friday while we were cooking a brisket for supper. The heating element made a loud strange electrical noise, and smoke started coming out into the kitchen. Her daddy put the fire out with a water pistol, and managed to save the brisket without any damage. Jeana stood by with a fire extinguisher while he shut off the breaker. Dawson was just worried about whether or not we had damaged his gun while putting out the fire.
There were about 35 of us at my mother's Easter Sunday. The guys hid eggs for the smallest ones, then did a more difficult hiding of the eggs for the older kids. My mother puts candy inside those plastic eggs, about a bushel basket of them, and usually about 3-4 pieces in each egg. So while the babies were hunting their eggs, "someone" sneaked the chocolate malted eggs out of the remaining plastic eggs, on the theory that no one would ever know there had been 3 pieces instead of two in each egg. Well, at least she was willing to share with me ;)
Jeana's Scott came in from work Friday and saw wonton wrappers in the refrigerator. He said, "Are you making Chinese for tomorrow?" I said yes, and he began to dance me around the kitchen, he was so excited. He is so easily pleased, and I enjoy cooking for him.
Jeana and I shopped for food Friday, while Nikky entertained the little ones in the toy department. While we were checking out, we saw a magazine cover about Gwenyth Paltrow's new baby. She named the first Apple, and this second one Moses. Jeana said she thought that Adam would have gone better with Apple; I said I thought she should have named him MacIntosh (see Jeana's entry about Adam and Eve getting involved with the apple).
On our way to Jeana's Thursday, we stopped at Flying J truck stop to get deisel and fill the propane tank. The propane guy always makes us get out of the RV, because he says it could blow up while he is filling the tank. (!) So I was standing between the propane tank and the deisel pumps, holding Frankie and hoping the RV wouldn't blow up, when a big burly truck driver climbed down out of his 18 wheeler and approached me.
"Is that a Pomeranian?" he asked.
I said yes.
He said," My wife has one of those. Every time she goes out to take a ____, her ___ gets all ______ and I have to scrub her ___ before she can get back into the truck."
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was talking about the Pomeranian, and not his wife.
Jeana's oven caught on fire Friday while we were cooking a brisket for supper. The heating element made a loud strange electrical noise, and smoke started coming out into the kitchen. Her daddy put the fire out with a water pistol, and managed to save the brisket without any damage. Jeana stood by with a fire extinguisher while he shut off the breaker. Dawson was just worried about whether or not we had damaged his gun while putting out the fire.
There were about 35 of us at my mother's Easter Sunday. The guys hid eggs for the smallest ones, then did a more difficult hiding of the eggs for the older kids. My mother puts candy inside those plastic eggs, about a bushel basket of them, and usually about 3-4 pieces in each egg. So while the babies were hunting their eggs, "someone" sneaked the chocolate malted eggs out of the remaining plastic eggs, on the theory that no one would ever know there had been 3 pieces instead of two in each egg. Well, at least she was willing to share with me ;)
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Living in the sunshine of God's love
Do you get the blues in the winter? Some people call it SAD--seasonal affective disorder. I love the cold weather, love sitting by a fire drinking coffee or hot cocoa, love snuggling under a quilt with my darlin', but those short days, especially the cloudy ones, wear on me. I feel as if my mind is in hibernation mode. No new ideas, no creative energy. Then the days start to get longer, we have some bright sunshiny days, and I am renewed.
I've been sitting in the sunshine, soaking up the warmth, watching the birds, listening to the breeze, and looking up into that gloriously blue, cloudless Texas sky, thinking about sunshine and warmth and God.
For some reason, it just struck me how God knows us *wholely*. He knew me, as the Psalmist says, "before I was knit together in my mother's womb." Before my parents or grandparents were even conceived, He knew me. He knew my heart, my mind, my very DNA. He knew the mistakes I would make, the contrary spirit I sometimes indulge, the angry words I would one day say. He knew too the love He would kindle in me for the husband I had not met, the babies yet to be born, for the family to come, whether through birth or marriage, adoption formal or informal, all of us bound together through blood and through love--just as He binds us to Himself through the blood of Jesus, and the eternal love through which we find salvation and become His children.
For today, for this moment, I feel His *knowing* of me. Not just the past or the present, but entirely, and for eternity, He knows me, and He loves me anyway.
I've been sitting in the sunshine, soaking up the warmth, watching the birds, listening to the breeze, and looking up into that gloriously blue, cloudless Texas sky, thinking about sunshine and warmth and God.
For some reason, it just struck me how God knows us *wholely*. He knew me, as the Psalmist says, "before I was knit together in my mother's womb." Before my parents or grandparents were even conceived, He knew me. He knew my heart, my mind, my very DNA. He knew the mistakes I would make, the contrary spirit I sometimes indulge, the angry words I would one day say. He knew too the love He would kindle in me for the husband I had not met, the babies yet to be born, for the family to come, whether through birth or marriage, adoption formal or informal, all of us bound together through blood and through love--just as He binds us to Himself through the blood of Jesus, and the eternal love through which we find salvation and become His children.
For today, for this moment, I feel His *knowing* of me. Not just the past or the present, but entirely, and for eternity, He knows me, and He loves me anyway.
Then the student said...
I teach in a disciplinary program. My husband and I both teach there. We've been doing it for years, and feel that it is our calling--our gift--to work with these students. Our gift, in more than one sense. A gift from God who calls us to do this work. A gift for dealing with difficult students, students who often have never had any parental guidance, who may not even know one or both of their parents, or who have had to assume the adult role in the household because the "adults" behave like immature children. But these kids also are a gift to us. They often give us insights into issues we have struggled with for a long time. Sometimes they gift us with their love, the gift of their trust, and their progress toward adulthood. Sometimes they just give us a good laugh.
Thursday I had to redirect a student several times, because he was not working on his assignments. Each time, he argued that he had nothing to do, but as I went through the stacks of books and papers in his cubicle, we found that he did indeed have a great deal of work to do; he just didn't want to do any of it.
Mid-afternoon I saw that he was drawing. I took the drawing from him, and redirected him. His response?
"If you hadn't of seen that, you wouldn't have come back her and taken it away from me!!"
What could I say? He was right; if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have taken it.
Here is where you are supposed to laugh :)
Thursday I had to redirect a student several times, because he was not working on his assignments. Each time, he argued that he had nothing to do, but as I went through the stacks of books and papers in his cubicle, we found that he did indeed have a great deal of work to do; he just didn't want to do any of it.
Mid-afternoon I saw that he was drawing. I took the drawing from him, and redirected him. His response?
"If you hadn't of seen that, you wouldn't have come back her and taken it away from me!!"
What could I say? He was right; if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have taken it.
Here is where you are supposed to laugh :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
