Monday Photo Shoot: Things I Have Others Probably Don't

Your Monday Shoot: Things You Have Other People Probably Don't
"Got something weird around the house that you figure is unique to your personal environment? Perfect. Get the camera:

Your Monday Photo Shoot: Take a snap of something in the house you're pretty sure other people aren't likely to have in their house. Pets and people are not included (we're pretty sure your pets and kids aren't in most other people's houses). For this photo shoot we're looking at things -- stange objects, curios, odd keepsakes and just generally weird stuff. "

                             From John Scalzi's Monday Morning Photo shoot.

 

I had to look around to find something weird, something I knew that no one would have in their own home. It's pretty unique to my environment. I didn’t think of it right away until my eyes fell upon it because I generally forget it's even there, and then I said, “That’s it! No one has one of those!”

I’m pretty sure no one has one because I thought of it myself, I put it together myself. I cut the root-branch myself, I added the bugs myself. I guess you could say it was my “creation.”

I don’t even have a name for it. Cicada Gallery? Insects on Display? Lotta Cicadas?

But if you look closely at it, you can see my favorite insect, the Cicada, several of them in fact, perched at various points on the tree root.

I’ve had it for about twelve years now, and have been adding insects to the “branch” from time to time. I don’t kill the bugs… they’re usually freshly dead when I find them. If they die in my path, and if their little bodies look whole and untouched, I glue them to the branchwith rubber cement!

Right now, I have on display a Carpenter Bee, a Japanese Hornet, a dragonfly, and several Cicadas.

Why do I keep them? Well, I became enthralled with the Cicadas one year when our area was having one of those summer events everyone recognizes as the emergence of the 17-year “locust.” They are not locusts, they are Cicadas. They might have been the 13-year sort, or the annual cicada. That year I was able to capture a Cicada just as it was about to emerge from its larval hard shell stage, and it was as beautiful as watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. I’ve had a great fascination for them ever since.

So, in remembrance of them, I suppose, and to help educate others who are curious, in or out of the classroom, I keep this little “nature” display in my drawing room, amidst all the other curious things that I am involved in.

Hmmm, I think these pictures are saying a lot more than I probably would have written about myself!

If anyone does have something like this hanging around their house, I'm thinking we might be kindred spirits!

IF, J-Land Style

I want to make a journal entry, but nothing comes to mind. Moments like this are a sign that I need to stop and be still. I need to empty my mind of all thoughts: What I am planning to do for school, what I am planning to do for church, what I want to do for myself, and what I want to do for my husband.

What I want to do comes into conflict with what I have to do.

Ever since my neighbor died, I've been thinking about what will happen when I die, or my husband dies. What will I do without him? What regrets will I have? What would I do differently if I knew that in 6 months I would die, or that in 6 months he would die?

There is no doubt in my mind that I would quit my teaching job if I knew one of us were going to die within 6 months, or even a year. In a heartbeat I'd quit. Everything I thought was important to me, to the contribution I see myself making, flies out the window when I think about what I have taken away from the marriage and our relationship. The time I give to school related things and church obligations, since he is not involved in either, means I give less time to us.

I can't lie about it. If you are a teacher, you know what I am talking about. The job doesn't end at 3:30 each day, doesn't end on Friday afternoon, and doesn't end with the last day of school. It goes home with you.

You think you can get away from it, and have a meaningful family relationship with those you live with and live close to, but not really. You are so tired by end of day, discourse is unlikely. So much of what goes on during the day and the week cannot even be talked about because some things are just confidential. What you can talk about doesn't really matter. You find things to talk about, but they don't seem to matter.

I need to find another way to put my family in front of my job. Or there isn't going to be a job. I can see the regrets piled high when the inevitable comes.

The irony is that this is exactly the reason I entered the profession in 1996. In the summer of '96, I asked myself, what kind of work could I get into that was worth taking up agreat deal of my time, worth sinking my interest and energies into, worth laying awake at night for, worth my skills and talents?

What kind of work would get me out of bed each day, even on those days when I felt tired and burned out, even when I'd rather stay home and stay in bed? What kind of work, when I imagined  laying on my deathbed, would I feel proud of what I had done with my life? What kind of work would make me say "It was all worth it?" 

Teaching seemed to fill the bill for me.

If  I'm going to sacrifice a great majority of my conscious living and giving for something, that something better be worth it. I don't want to lay in my bed, taking my last few breaths and think, "Man, I could have done this, or I could have done that.... why didn't I?"  or  "I could have spent more time with my family."

And then I remember the greatest sacrifice of all time. I remember Jesus, and wonder if he asked that question of himself? "Are they worth it, Lord?"

He must have answered "Yes, they are worth it."

No, I don't think he asked it on the cross... he might have asked it three years earlier when he began the journey to the cross. Surely the thought crossed his mind. There was that human side to him, after all.

I'm worth it... God says I'm His beloved. You are His beloved. Jesus, His beloved Son, made that ultimate sacrifice. For me, for you, for us all.

Am I worth it? He thought so.

Which leads me to believe that any sacrifice I make as a teacher is also worth it. Worth giving a life for. I may not be hanging on a cross, but my life is given up for the work at hand.

Teaching isn't the only job or profession that is worth giving up your life for. There are so many others ...

If you make it important, if you see its importance, if you can be the best damn worker, the best newspaper delivery person, the best cashier, the best plumber, the best real estate sales person, the best nurse or doctor or pharmacist, lawyer, policeman, clerk, cook, salesperson, store manager, custodian, bus driver, x-ray technician, anesthetist, veterinarian, soldier, ... and so on... it is worth it.

If you treat people honorably, with respect, and do what is right by them, and do not misuse or abuse your authority and privileges, if you seek to help those who don't understand and those who probably never will, your life given up for the work is worth it.

If you look for the good in others, and nurture it, expose it, praise it, and honor it, your life given up for that will be worth it.

If you can guide another into the Light, and give them room to walk beside you on your Path, your life lost in that endeavor is worth it.

If ...

There are more... so many more... than the few examples I have mentioned here. I know you have thought of some of your own. Would you share them with me? I know we won't be able to top Rudyard Kipling's "If", but that is not my intention.

Is what you do worth it? What makes it worth giving your life for?

I invite you to add to the list of "If's..." with your comments below.  Thank you, J-landers.

Remembering Grief

I've been away from my journal for the past few days, unable to make entries, mostly busy with the school day, and too tired when I came home each evening to journal. I haven't even visited many journals to read new entries. My email box was filled with AOL journals new entry alerts... way too many! That's when I realized I had more alerts than I could manage on a regular school day. So if you've wondered why I haven't been leaving comments, it's because I've been preoccupied with the days' events this week.

As mentioned in the previous entry, Sunday my neighbor suffered a massive heart attack and died so fast, he probably never knew what happened. His wife is now dealing with living without the man who has taken care of her during the recent years of her surgeries and illnesses. They were very close, devoted to each other. He did everything for his wife... she was his queen, as his brother puts it. His funeral was Wednesday. I was able to leave school early to attend it, and I'm so glad I did.

One other person from our neighborhood also attended, and we took comfort knowing that we were neither related to the man, nor could we say we knew him well, but could only say, "He was our neighbor," and we come to honor and remember him for that.

Several people who knew him better than we stood up and spoke of him. His daughter, his brother, his like-a-son friend, a minister. I heard things about my neighbor that I never knew because we never crossed paths in our areas of interest. He loved yard sales, and he was an e-Bay seller/buyer/trader. He was a former mailman, and once delivered newspapers. I heard of his manner in dealing with his children and grandchildren, and how much everyone who knew him loved him, and recognized his gruff ways to be what endeared him to them. There was much respect and honor shown at his funeral.

How could I not know these wonderful things about him when he lived only mere shouting distance from my back door? Because I never took the time to walk over and visit him, and he never took the time to walk over and visit with us. Just like I don't take the time to walk over and visit any of my neighbors, just to visit. I don't even know how to start that. I know some folks are good at that, but there are a hundred and more reasons why I don't just walk over and visit my neighbors than reasons why I should.

I cried during the service because as I heard the well-spoken, and often humorous, words of high praise and love for this man, and as I gazed upon the beautiful portrait that stood at the front of the crowded chapel that sunny afternoon, I felt something inside, and I wasn't sure of the feeling. I shouldn't be too sad, I thought to myself, because I didn't know him well, and the fact that neither of us had gotten to know each other well left me little to miss. How could I miss someone I had never really known? He wasn't like a friend. He was simply my neighbor. But, even that word carries much weight by Biblical standards.

I realized, as his wife followed the simple casket out of the chapel, walking with him one last time, why I felt like I had lost something... I had lost the opportunity to get to know him. It would never be possible now. Instead of being one of those who would and could stand up and speak on his behalf at his funeral, I had been one of those who sat and recognized that those who had lost him were the winners. They had known him enough to love him. I had not known him enough.

After the funeral service at the graveside, I drove home, but did not stop at my neighbor's house to visit with the family. I thought they needed their own time of grief... you see the excuses already beginning? That afternoon and into the evening, there were so many cars parked in front of their house that I could not go over there.

The next day, Thursday, as I drove home from school, I saw that there were no cars in front of the home, so I pulled in directly without going home first. I decided I would stop in and pay my neighbor, now a widow, a visit. She was amazingly strong, and able to talk about it, and bared her heart, telling me how hard it is to sleep at night, how worried her daughter is for her, and how glad she is to have some time alone so she can smoke a cigarette and cry if she feels like it without someone there to witness it all.

I remembered my own deep grief for a year following my sister's and niece's death nearly nine years ago... I can't even believe that much time has passed, but I remember the shock, the numbness, and the anguish.

I remember crying prostrate on the floor when no one was home because that was the only place that felt stable enough to hold me. I remember stifling sudden sobs whenever I saw a girl between 10 and 12 years old with long brown hair, or a young mother holding her baby. I remember feelings of panic whenever I'd pass a car accident. The day I walked onto the college campus for my Education class, and came upon a mock car accident scene on the campus lawn demonstrating something for the ambulance and rescue services left me trembling by the time I got to class, and I wouldn't take off my sunglasses because I couldn't stop the tears.

It's best not to stop the crying whenever possible. This woman, my neighbor, had lost her husband of twenty something years. I can't even imagine her grief. They were in their retirement years... it seems so unfair. I told her I understood her need to cry, and that it was okay to cry for as long as she felt the need. Any time of day... there are no rules for grief. Are there?

I haven't read Dr. Elizabeth Kubler Ross's book "On Grief and Grieving"  (as mentioned in Nat's journal ) yet, having only just ordered it today, but I'm thinking each person has their own time to grieve, and shouldn't base it on another person's schedule or expectations. I know from personal experience that over time, the grief softened. It didn't go away, but it became gentler, and more forgiving. It became less intense, less up front, even less personal.

I can't even say for sure that grieving over the loss of a child is any harder than the loss of a husband... I could never speak to that since I have not experienced it. Or that losing someone to a disease is less painful than losing someone to a car accident, or to war, or to murder. I would never attempt to compare one woman's grief with another's. I imagine that losing one's child goes deeper with the anguish that one so young could never live as long a life as the adults who gave birth to him. 

Still, losing one's mate after sharing so much life and so many years together is an inevitable sadness, promised on the day of one's marriage when we speak the vows... "til death do us part." Just as our lives begin, the end is upon us.

And now that I've said all this, this is the paradox: This time of grief is also a time of great joy. One's death should be a time of joy. I believe in the afterlife of eternity. I don't understand it as much as I believe it. Which means that on the one hand, I may grieve for the loss of a loved one, yet on the other hand, I believe that person has moved on into the next phase of a new life. And this is exactly where my neighbor is now: grieving for the half of her that is missing, and believing that he has joined, or will soon join, with his Maker, the great I Am for that sweet eternal life we long for.

I will be a better neighbor from now on. I'd rather grieve because I lost someone I loved than grieve because I had not loved.

When a Neighbor Dies

Yesterday, my neighbor died. 

Massive heart attack. Took him quick. It was traumatic for the family who were present when he collapsed. He was about 65. His wife was trembling uncontrollably sitting on her front porch by the time I heard the news. The ambulance had come and gone, and I had not even heard the siren.

I don't know why I didn't hear it. The TV was not on, I was not listening to any music. I was working on lessons for the week. I didn't have a notion that my neighbor was dying until another neighbor, who heard the sirens, called to tell me something was going on down my way. I looked out the back door, and there were the flashing lights of several vehicles.

I thanked my friend for calling me, slipped on some shoes, threw on my jacket, grabbed a flashlight, and picked my way through the woods that separated my house from my neighbor's.

By the time I got there, the ambulance had already taken him away. His wife crying on the porch. My neighbor Carol consoling her, talking to her, giving to her. Carol knew what she was going through. Carol's son was killed a few years ago in a 4-wheeler accident. This very month. Today is the anniversary of her son's death. He was only 15.

There was Carol, giving more than I could give, but I stayed, and I went inside to see how the daughter and granddaughter were doing. The EMT supervisor was still there, and wasn't going to leave until someone had arrived to stay with the family. At the time, there was hope that my neighbor was still alive... the EMT's were "working on him," and that gave the family hope, but the truth was visible in their grief. They knew. They knew.

Someone arrived to take them to the hospital, and I made my way back home. I came home thinking he might still be alive. I called my husband who was out of town for a training workshop and told him the news. My husband had worked with our neighbor from time to time, piddling stuff, but not often. Not often enough. Mostly, they might cross paths while cutting trees or doing other yard work. Mostly, a wave of the hand, a smile, a holler.

Christmas cookies and Christmas cards were exchanged between each season. When our dogs visited them, they'd give them a treat , and when their dog was alive, I treated her likewise. A few phone calls to check up on each other from time to time. But mostly, where we live, we all have jobs, and we are seldom home during the day. When people are working all day, and running around on weekends, there isn't much time to be real neighborly.

Although, in this neighborhood, there are a few of us who do like to keep the connections strong, and so we have summer ice cream parties, and winter sledding parties (when it snows), and some have Christmas Caroled, one year a neighbor organized a luminary party to line our streets with luminaries made from gallon milk jugs. What an endeavor that was! There are Girls' Night Out a couple times a year. Not enough. There are bonfires at one neighbor's house, and, just lots of brief little moments when we do come together.

Mostly, what brings us together is extreme weather.  Hurricanes, ice storms, and tornadoes have brought us together. Everyone knows their neighbor when the weather rampages. People check up on each other, share water, share heat, share food. When you get snowbound for a week without power, it's good to have neighbors. My dogs and I had to sleep in the home of one of our neighbors (who happen to be best of friends) during one particular power outtage a few years ago when an ice storm trapped the south east. They had fuel heat... I had electric. It was an enjoyable adventure to share those days and nights with them like that. My husband wasn't there for that experience because he was icebound at work. He had slept in a motel room near his workplace.

And now I'm reminded that when your neighbor dies, it matters. Even though we seldom came together, and our paths seldom crossed, we were there when we needed each other. There's security in that. Security to know that right next door is a man or a woman who can contribute something in way of friendship, conversation, opinions, news, or even a "hey!" and a wave of the hand. You borrow a gallon of water, get a cup of coffee, a bite to eat. You help your neighbor cut the trees that fell in his yard, and he helps you cut the trees that fell across your driveway.

I rely on my husband as much as my neighbor's wife relied on him. But he's gone now. I can't imagine... I don't want to imagine... my life without my husband with me.

Yes, when I think of my neighbor dying, I think of my husband, and then I cry because he is my best friend. In the end, he is my best friend. I don't want to lose him like that. But the reality is that one of us is going to lose the other, if not like that, like something else. One way or another, one day, one of us is going to not wake up, or collapse suddenly, or be killed in a car accident, or die of some disease, or whatever... something is going to take us away, and life as we know it will never be the same.

So I know only to be kinder, to be more loving, to say what is good, and do what is good, and to encourage, and to support.

May my mouth never say another thing that could harm the image of another. May my ears never hear another word that slanders another person. May my eyes never see the darkness in a person, but only what is good and true in them.

Thereby, others may not harm me with their words, nor hear slander against me, nor see only my faults, for faults I have many, but see the good in me.

I'm baking lasagne to take over to the family tonight, and an apple pie which I bought because I didn't have time to bake one fresh. There are many cars coming and going next door. It is dark and raining. There will be many hungry people visiting, comforting, grieving over the next few days.

This is one of those times when the neighbors get together to help out. I thank God for my friends and neighbors. For the ones I often talk to on the phone and for the ones I seldom see.

Four things

This assignment came from Sassy at Sassy's Second Word. You can participate too.

4 jobs you've had in your life:

Waitress in a Mexican food restaurant (I was 18)

Student-artist in TV studio, Athens, Ga (I was 20)

Homemaker and Mother (21-45)

Special Ed teacher (grades K-12) (46-present)

4 movies you would watch over and over:

Master and Commander

Postman

Dances with Wolves

For the Moment (early Russell Crowe movie)

4 places you have lived:

Connecticut (born in Waterbury)

England (in the late fifties)

Berlin, Germany (in the late 60's)

Warner Robins, Georgia (in the early 70's)

4 tv shows you love to watch:

Lost (not the reality show, the airplane crash story)

Big Brother

Survivor

Medium (Her husband is adorable)


4 places you have been on vacation:

Cruise to Jamaica and Grand Cayman (culture-shock)

Florida (Orlando, etc) (such fun!)

North Carolina Outer Banks (peaceful)

New York, Niagra Falls (awesome!)

4 foods you love to eat:

Chicken and pasta

Wendy's Mandarin Chicken Salad

Shrimp, Lobster

Medium Rib Eye

4 places you would rather be right now:

Visiting my mother in Alabama

Visiting my son in Durham

Visiting my sister in Georgia

Visiting my brothers in California

Ok tag you're it!
Any one who reads this journal but only if you want :)

 Leave a link at Sassy's http://journals.aol.com/debbted/SassysSecondWord !

Weekend Assignment: Best Money Ever Spent

From John's By The Way assignment this week:

"What's the best money you've ever spent? Whether it's something you love, something you use all the time or something that doesn't owe you a nickel, what is it?"

"Extra Credit: Aside from food, what's the next purchase you plan to make?"

Best money I ever spent, or we ever spent, was when we bought a parcel of land in this subdivision and built a home on it back in 1981.

We’d been married about three years when our son was born, and about two years later, my husband got the urge to buy some land and build us a home. He began the process of subcontracting, got the land cleared in March, the foundation was laid, well drilled, septic system installed, and the house was built. By November we had moved in and celebrated our child’s third birthday. We have lived in this house ever since. It truly has been a home for us. Steven does not remember living anywhere else. This is contrary to the lives my husband and I lived as children, both having done extensive moving.

Even after twenty-five years, I still love to look at our home from the outside, and love to come back to it at the end of every day.

The journey began after we were married in 1975, when we bought a used mobile home for $3000 and lived there for over two years while we saved every penny we could make, deferring vacations and gifts and any luxuries. We sold the mobile home for what we paid for it, which was like living rent-free for two years, and put the money down on five acres of land with two little square two-bedroom houses and lived in one while we rented out the other for a couple of years. Even after our baby was born, we scrimped and saved. We sold the five acres and two old houses for an even greater profit and put all the money into the land and the building of our new home, where we have lived ever since.

The house is in a friendly, growing, community, and though our neighbors seem close in proximity, there are so many trees out here that we feel like we are living in the forest sometimes. We love the yard, the woods, the sounds, the smells here.

Sometimes we don’t go anywhere for vacation because we don’t want to get away from home. In fact, we stopped going camping after we moved here. One summer, while hiking in the Carolina mountains, we realized the trees and shrubs and plants we saw all around us were the same ones growing in our yard. The deer and squirrel, the birds were the same. We live a few hundred yards from a major river. We thought, why do we need to pack up all the camping gear to get away for a week, when what we get away to is just like where we live? Couldn’t we just stay home? Not only would we save lots of bucks, which we could spend on other things we like, but we wouldn’t have to drive for four hours to get there. And we’d still have all the conveniences like bathrooms, showers, TV, our own bed, and a kitchen. No packing and unpacking. I hate that part anyway. We don’t need a break from our home…. we need a break from work, so why couldn’t we take our vacation at home?

Yes, I’d say the money we put into this home was the best money ever spent.

Extra Credit: Next purchase we plan to make, aside from food: since we are in our fifties, the likelihood that we need to buy anything more seems very small. Actually, we'd like to downsize. We may have to consider our needs in the future,and sell this house and home to buy something closer to town, something smaller, more practical, with no yard maintenance.

We'd certainly miss this place, and all the memories we have stored up here, but reality will dictate where and what we will do over the next ten to twenty years. That, and our health!

Lost and Found

Have you ever misplaced something, thought you might have lost it? You look everywhere for it, tell people so they can look for it, too? Recently, two things come to mind: my pen, and a Fluency Reading lessons book with transparencies.

First, the pen disappeared about three weeks ago. It was a champagne colored Cross pen, slender, with a satin finish. I bought the pen three years ago at Office Depot one day as a way to treat myself.

I love pens, I love to write, but this was more than an ordinary pen. It was distinctive and sleek, and the way the metal barrel smoothly twisted to expose the pen tip was a pleasant change from the ususal plastic clicker pens. It felt comfortable in my hands, rested nicely against my fingertips when I held it in writing position, and it fit perfectly in my wallet without adding any additional bulk.

It might have fallen out of my purse while I was shopping at WalMart or who knows where. I looked in my car for it, in the trunk, under the seats, in the door pockets. I searched the pockets of my jackets and sweaters, skirts, and coats. I've checked all the bags I carry to school or church, canvas, corduroy, leather, or weave. I asked people at church to keep an eye out for a lost white pen, or off-white. The pen has not shown up.

The fluency book is one I purchased at an educators workshop. I had not begun using it for my reading class until recently, about two weeks ago. It took me awhile to figure out how I could fit the lessons into my already full Wilson reading class, but as I pondered the importance of fluency, I decided I could set aside one day a week to work on fluency after spending three to four days on decoding skills.

I had given the kids each a copy of the reading passage from the first lesson. I modeled reading it fluently, and I explained the three components of fluency (rate, intonation, and emphasis). Then, we did an echo reading of the entire passage. That's where I read one line, they read the same line and try to copy my rate, intonation and emphasis on words. After an echo reading, we read it together as a group, and then I listened them read it individually. Then I sent them home with their copy to practice reading out loud each night. I told them that on Friday they would read their passage to the class, and I would give them a score for each of rate, intonation, and emphasis. I didn't know how well they would take to this extra homework, but they actually seemed to like having it.

By the following Friday, they returned to class. I had made extra copies of the passage for those who forgot to bring theirs back. After their spelling test, we began the readings. They were so serious! I asked them to stand at the front of the class to read their passage, and to read with confidence. I asked for volunteers... several wanted to go first! That surprised me. The smiles as they were called to take their turn at the front of the room to demonstrate their good reading skills was amazing... they haven't smiled that much about their reading in a long time.

Well, needless to say, these kids stood up and read their passages with near perfect fluency. Their intonations made them sound like they were speaking expressively, not reading one word at a time. Emphasis gave some words more importance than others, and the increased rate guaranteed fluidity as one sentence gave way to the next. They were reading fluently!! Spontaneous clapping erupted as each child finished reading his/her passage (2 paragraphs). One boy, who is struggling at a 2nd grade level, read as well as the best reader in the class, and when he finished, another boy whistled his approval.

They wanted to do it again, so the following Monday, I gave them another passage, about tornadoes, and they did the same thing. I modeled, they practiced echo, group, then individual, took it home to practice every night, then came in and read it out loud to the class on Friday.

Then, I lost the book. I looked everywhere for it. I didn't know what I was going to tell the kids after their long break over the MLK weekend. I sent an email to all the teachers asking them to see if they may have accidentally picked it up from the work room where we make all of our copies. I might have left it in there one day after making copies of one of the passages.  Throughout the week, teachers have stopped me in the hallways and at lunch to ask me if I found my book. Those I talked to promised to keep their eyes open for me.

I searched my own classroom several times over, examining closely folders, notebooks, and shelves. I looked in all the obvious places, then in the not so obvious places, like the bathroom, the library, my car.

Today, I told  my students that I could not find the fluency lesson book. Several kids let out a mild cry of dismay! No! Mrs. G do you mean we can't do that any more? I told them I could find other passages, I had other resources, and we would start next week. Kids, you'd think that only one book, THAT book was the only book I could use. I told them to get over it, and then we began a decoding lesson.

After school, while looking for something else in and amongst the notebooks on my bookshelf in the classroom, where I had already searched at least a dozen times earlier, guess what I found? The fluency book with all my transparencies, and the copies of passages I had made for the next three weeks! I was thrilled, to say the least. Now I don't have to make up my own materials (which takes more time than using already prepared materials), and I'll be able to continue the focus on fluency with ease.

Now, if only the pen would reappear like the book did!

 

For Those Who are Tired, a Reminder

But they that wait

upon the Lord shall renew their strength;

they shall mount up with wings as eagles;

they shall run, and not be weary;

and they shall walk, and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31

 

Sometimes I need to read this passage over to myself.

It reminds me that sometimes I will be soaring for the Lord, with strength and confidence, full of dynamic energy (like when I'm planning Vacation Bible School in the summer).

And sometimes I will be running for the Lord, like a jogger pacing herself so as not to grow weary, as when I am in the routine of teaching during the school year.

Then, sometimes, I am walking for the Lord, never intending to stop, but merely not to run for awhile; not intending to be the first to finish, but to finish. This can happen at anytime, like after I have soared, or after I have run, and so, rather than quit, rather than giving up completely, I choose to walk for awhile.

And I even remember a couple of times when the Lord picked me up and carried me along when the journey became overwhelming. Just for awhile, and then He'd set me back down again so I could walk the path on my own feet, break into a run when my strength increased, and leap into the air to soar once more, revived and potent!

That I could soar more often, but grateful when I am walking. 

John Dewey Quote

Education is not a preparation for life; education is life itself.

 

John Dewey

Dinner with Steven

I seldom talk about my son, out of respect for his privacy. Yesterday I spent some time with him and his girlfriend, Vi. My husband and I met them at the Carolina Ale House in Durham for dinner. It was one of those rare times when all four of us were available and able to be together, same place, same time.

Both Steven and Vi (Vee) are pharmacy students, and both are studying to pass weekly exams as they work toward their Pharm D at the Pharmacy School at UNC in Chapel Hill. I like Vi, mostly because she likes my son, but also because she likes to cook, read, loves animals, and has beautiful eyes and a pleasant smile. She is respectful, independent, and has a quiet demeanor. Actually, she is very pretty, but I didn't want to dwell on her physical attributes because she is so much more. If I ever get a recent picture of the two of them together, with their permission, I will post it here.

Our conversation ranged from thanking each other for the Christmas gifts, to the series Lost, from movies to books, and the Super Bowl (that lasted about 15 seconds). Now that I think of it, I may have talked too much! It's because my husband doesn't talk much at all. I think we can have all the quiet time we want at home, but when we go out, let's talk! lol! 

He's all grown up now, working between semesters, going to school full time, paying his own bills, taking care of his own car (calling dad whenever there is a mechanical problem that dad can help with). He seems to have adjusted to living on his own. I am proud of him for that. And so grateful that he lives only about a 35 minute drive away from me.

I wanted to ask Vi so many questions, but I didn’t, because I didn’t want to scare her off, or scare Steven off. He doesn’t like it when I “interview” his girlfriends. Well, if I don’t ask, how will I find out? I need someone to talk to me! Tell me things. Tell me what you think, how you feel. 

I just want to know better the girl that likes my son, maybe even loves my son. I want to know him better too, because he is an adult now. I knew him so well when he was a kid. Adult he may be, but still my son, my child.

I remember wrestling on the floor with him when he was a toddler. I remember the wooden spoon fights in the kitchen when he was ten, as I cooked dinner. I remember taking him to Star Wars movies because we were both big SW fans. I remember making arrangements for his friends to spend the night, and sledding down the driveway on snow days. I remember science projects that grew and changed colors, or burned up in flaming glory... I remember. We had some pretty good times when he was a kid in this house. Yeah, I do miss that sometimes.

It was very nice to spend some time with them. Maybe next time I can learn a little more. If I didn’t talk too much this time. I enjoy all the little pieces of time that I can be with my son and his girlfriend.

Poet, Peacemaker, and Angel

A few entries ago, I talked about young Mattie Stepanek, and how his heartsongs had influenced the lives of many hundreds and thousands of people, especially after they heard him speak on Oprah back in 2001. I was one of those who saw and heard Mattie, 11 years old at the time.

I remember the day I first saw him in October, 2001. His words blew me away. Literally. A month later, I wrote the following in my journal (my paper journal, I wasn't a blogger back then).

Poet, Peacemaker, and Angel

Did you see him on the Oprah show? Last month she interviewed him, the Peacemaker and Poet.

I thought he was an Angel. He sat comfortably in his special chair, a chair that kept him alive. His blue eyes sparkled as he answered her questions. A miracle. His life lived so deeply.

Did you see him on the Oprah show? She asked him what kept him alive. "My poetry," he smiled. His words. His wisdom. Too much to contain in that little body. He is on a divine mission to spread Peace around the world, a message of hope. His heart sings songs, his heart is full and

Did you see him on the Oprah show?  I saw him, his heart so full of love and joy for life that it burst right there, spilling out his songs, touching the lives of every soul with ears, and eyes, and hearts. His song pierced the television screen in my living room straight into my heart and I knew where his song had gone: it lives in me! And

If you saw him on the Oprah show last month and you heard Mattie's heartsongs, then I know your heart was pierced, too.

Did you feel your heart suddenly expand? Did it feel like for a moment it would burst?

Because I think that's how he felt when the heartsong filled his heart. Yet he knew he had to let it go for his message of peace to be heard.

So now, with our pierced hearts we, too, are on a mission: to listen to our own heartsongs and to let them out through that little hole created by the words of an eleven year-old peacemaker. Mattie Stepanek.

God's Angel on Earth.

The Tau (Way) of Dogs

The Tau (Way) of Dogs

Little doggies in the dark

Want to go outside and bark

At our neighbors, at the cars,

At the postman, and the stars.

 

From our window they can see

Pigeons, blue jays, chickadees,

Cardinals and finches, too.

Then a squirrel leaps into view!

 

Its movement catches doggie eyes.

Tails are wagging, ears held high,

Scratching at the window panes

Just one thought in their doggie brains.

 

Bounding to the back door, then

Leaping on the couch again.

Excitedly at the door they stand

Knowing freedom is at hand.

 

Waiting for the door to open,

Staring at it, every hoping.

Patient little doggies know

Doors open when they gotta go!

 

Finally, their wish comes true.

They bolt into the morning dew,

Heading for the squirrel trail

Searching for that squirrel tail.

 

Squirrel hears them coming fast.

It scampers up a tree at last.

Doggies sniffing all around,

Noses vacuuming the ground.

 

Giving up on squirrel chase

Soon the two are in a race.

Running through the woods once more

Then they’re standing at the door.

 

Again it opens at their scratching.

At the window they sit watching

For another chance to see

That squirrel scurrying down a tree.

 

Finally, on the couch they lie

Letting out their doggie sighs,

Happy to be home again.

When summer comes, I’ll be like them!

 

They run and play and eat and sleep,

No calendar or time to keep.

No phones to answer, no bills to pay.

I’d say my dogs have found “The Way.”

 

Bea Gilmore

3-17-02

Dog Day Tuesday entry

I found this assignment at Sassy's Second Word blog. Of course, I wanted to participate. She loves wolves, and her wolf photographs are beautiful. You have to check her blog out. Since she asked if the reader/visitor has a story or photo to share for  Dog Day Tuesday, to join in, I enter mine. Here's mine, SassyD! Thank you for the task.

Anyone who has been reading this blog knows about my two schnauzers. They're our babies. Max is in the front, Misty further behind. In the picture, they are both very alert and attentive, and so their ears take on a cute, symmetric shape. Misty is actually the squirrel chaser, the mouse chaser... Max is the one with the killer instinct. Misty taught him when he was a puppy, and it took him a few tries, but once he caught his first mouse, that was it. Misty seldom gets to see any action unless Max is held back from the hunt. So, these are my house companions, chair snugglers, foot warmers, and guard dogs.Oh, and mousers.

 

htttp://journals.aol.com/debbted/SassysSecondWord/

Be Lost in the Call

Remember God so much that you are forgotten.
Let the caller and the called disappear;
be lost in the Call.

by Rumi

 

Back in 2001-2002, I was part of a Bible Study class that lasted for nearly a year. It was a small group class, led by our Pastor, Richard. He called it Pilgrim's Journey.

We came to see ourselves as Travelers, as Pilgrim's seeking Truth in the Lord, and among People of the Word. We read scripture, and responded, sometimes in poetry, sometimes in prayer, and in discussion. We listened to Richard read the words of a Sufi sage, like Rumi, above. We reflected on Hebrew wisdom as well, learned about the history of Kabbalah, and even came to grasp some of the concepts. We contemplated Holy Scripture, the Lord's words, the parables told by Jesus. We compared the beliefs of different faiths, we often questioned the meaning of the text we read.

It was a most unusual Bible Study class. I continue to be drawn back to the story of creation as told in Kabbalah, an ancient wisdom that influences people of all faiths. The source of Kabbalic wisdom is the Zohar, a 23 volume collection. I haven't studied Kabbalah, I am just aware of it, but I want to study it. There will be more about this in my journal in the future.

Monday Photo Shoot: Whoops!

Edited 1-17-06.

Your Monday Photo Shoot: Show us a picture that didn't quite come out the way you wanted -- but is still interesting. These are my photos that didn't quite come out the way I wanted, but just the same, I found them interesting.

1.  Max's eyes aren't blue, it's just the way the light hit them. I don't have blue-eye reduction, only red-eye reduction! Still, I thought they were a pretty blue. I had just given him a bath, and he looks so cute all wet, shiny, and well... pitiful, actually. He's a mini-schnauzer.

2.  We call it CatFace. This fish has eluded me all year. I've been trying to get a photo of its face. This is not very clear, but it is the best I have. I'm certain someone will want to publish in the next book title "Most Unusual Animal Faces" because its face really does look like the face of a cat. Even the koi's whiskers are in the right place... very eerie to watch it swim around underwater with that face and those fins. Very eerie.

3. The flash is too powerful, and all you see is the light reflecting off irredescent body of the garden spider. I don't know how to control the flash in these kinds of situations. The spider really is smack in the middle of that web. Oh well ... The web is nice.

4.  Same spider web, WITH the spider this time. It had woven a web right outside my kitchen window, and just above our heat pump. When I opened the window and removed the window screen to take its photo, the heat pump came on at the same time, and the fan part began blowing air straight out and up the side of our wall outside, shaking and vibrating the web like crazy. It was very hard to take this picture, but he was a patient spider.

5. Dragonflies abound in and around our front yard pond. This one came to rest on the wing of a metal dragonfly sculpture. I wanted a closeup of the dragonfly and tookseveral pictures, moving in closer and closer with each one. This is the closest it let me get before it flew away.

6.  Our pond takes on a new appearance with each passing season. I took this one last fall, in 2004, not 2005. In fact it no longer exists in this shape since my husband took the big section out and filled it back in with soil and grass. I wrote about the change in a November 26 entry. In this photo, the original barely showed the colors that I could see with my eyes. The sun was low in the horizon, and there was a goldness to the air. I wanted to recapture that color, so I manipulated the color adjustment in my ZoomBrowser program, and this is what I got. So, in the end, I almost got what I wanted.

 

Bea

 

Your Monday Photo Shoot: Whoops! http://journals.aol.com/johnmscalzi/bytheway/entries/5375

If you would like to participate with your own photo(s), write your entry, then link to John's website above so he can find them! Share them with J-land.

People Come Into Your Life for a Reason

I found the following in an email sent to me just a few minutes ago, from a friend at church, Nan. It seems very true. I can think of a few relationships that either no longer exist as they began, or have evolved. It made me think of people like young Mattie, whom I mentioned in a previous entry, and my sister who died young at 31. It made me think of friends whom I once shared lunch with every day, and no longer do. It's like my needs change, or theirs do, or both of our needs change, but what we gleaned from that relationship is still with us, connecting us. Maybe you can think of friends who were with you for a reason or a season.?  

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.   When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.   When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.


They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.


They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an
inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.  Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.


Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done.


The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.


Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.  Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.


LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.  It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.


Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Duties as Designed by M.Stepanek

Duties as Designed

The job of the poet

Is to give birth to the words

That give breath to expressions

Of the essence of life.

The job of the poet

Is to leave stains of the storms

Yet echo laughter of the light

That is seen from the soul.

The job of the poet

Is to weave ashes of yesterthoughts

Into silhouettes that rise gently

On the horizon of dawning hope.

The job of the poet

Is to create and to capture

And to spirit and to script

The pulse of life.

 

February 14, 2003

By Mattie J.T. Stepanek

From Reflections of a Peacemaker: A Portrait Through Heartsongs

Published by Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2005

 

Mattie was born in 1990 with a life-threatening neuromuscular disease. He had three other siblings who were born with, and died from, the same disease. His mother has it as well. Mattie never knew his two oldest siblings, who died before Mattie was born, but he remembered one brother who died when Mattie was a preschooler. Mattie started writing what he came to call Heartsongs when he was three years old! He died in June of 2004, but during those nearly fourteen years of living and loving, he graced our world with his poetry, his wisdom, and his humor.

You can read all about Mattie at his website, and you can buy his books, one of which I've quoted from above with permission from his mother, Jeni Stepanek, at Amazon.com, or your favorite bookstore. I will probably add other poems  and thoughts as I walk through the year just because this little boy with the God-sized heart made such an impression on me several years ago when I saw him on the Oprah show.

I rediscovered Mattie when I found his most recent book at the local bookstore. I wanted to pass this information on to anyone who might want to discover Mattie, but I'm thinking most of you already have heard of him, or have heard him. If you have heard him speak, then you were touched as I was.

Bea

A Day With the Girls

I just had a wonderful day with my friends and their daughters.

Do you remember the New Year's Resolution Beth made for me around the firepit at Patterson Park? She had suggested that we do more things together (us women friends) this year. Anything from going out to dinner, sitting around the pool, having a discussion over the latest book we're reading, even going to the lake or the coast or the mountains... I imagine it could mean just about anything that ladies can do together, like best girlfriends. Laughing, joking, sharing family history, thoughts, concerns.

Today, we did one of those "things." We met at the mall, and spent pretty much half the day there. For me it was a rare opportunity. I had not been to the Colonial Mall on Huffman Mill Road in Burlington in so long that I didn't even know it's name had changed. Now I can't even remember what it's new name is!

Anyway, all the stores were either having after Christmas sales, 75% off everything, or going out of business sales. It was a good time to go shopping for a new coat, although that wasn't on my mind when I met them there. The only thing I knew for sure was that I'd be sharing some important time with my friends.

It wasn't long after I met them that someone suggested we have lunch at Wholly Guacamole, a fabulous restaurant that serves up not only the best steak and shrimp plate, but also the best Margaritas. Alyson suggested that she and I split the steak and shrimp since we weren't that hungry. The steak was most tender, and the grilled shrimp divine. The girls, Marlene and Mary Catherine, ordered something else like fajitas, and drinking their sodas.

You can really see how little girls pick up their mother's mannerisms when you go out to lunch with them. You can see how they learn from their mothers, who model good behavior, when they are in public, and the proper way to respond to waiters and salespeople. I was very proud of both these moms for setting a standard of good manners and appropriate conversation. You both get A+, ladies!

I think the biggest surprise for me was that I found a new coat to wear, and some new shoes, both on sale, and both fitting good. I've been wearing the same jacket since 1996 or 97... it's gotten a bit thread bare, but I loved that jacket, and it was hard to give up. My husband, son, and friends have on various occasions suggested I get a new coat because mine has gotten raggedy. But the jacket was very comfortable, machine washable, and besides, I hadn't found anything equally comfortable.

Until today, that is. The new jacket is all weather, has a removable liner, removable hood, zips up the front, and the sleeves are just the right length for my length-challenged arms. The price was right. With Alyson admiring it and telling me how good it looked on me, I had to get it.

Girlfriends do that... give their support. And when Alyson tried on some new clothes, I was there to tell her how good this shirt looked or that one. Beth and I ended up buying the same sweater, same color even. We agreed not to wear it at the same time, but I reminded her we that we didn't work together so that wouldn't be a problem. The girls found some clothes on sale as well, but mostly they seemed more interested in buying something for their loved ones to give to them on Valentine's Day. How sweet is that? I told you, these moms have taught their kids well.

A trip shopping is never complete without a stop at the Dollar Tree or the Hallmark Shoppe, or the bookstore, in this case, it was Books-A-Million. Found a couple of good reads. Ever hear of Mattie Stepanek? Mattie was a young boy, with the heart of a wizened man, who died very young from a rare form of muscular dystrophy. He was a peacemaker and authored several books of poetry by the time he was 11 years old. He had appeared on Oprah, met President Jimmy Carter, and was on a mission to promote world peace.I had fallen in love with Mattie back in 2004, I believe, when I caught him on the Oprah show one afternoon.

Today, I bought his latest poetry collection, Reflections of Peacemaker. "A portion of the proceeds of Reflections of a Peacemaker will be donated to the Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA) Mattie Fund for medical research to help find treatments and cures for childhood neuromuscular diseases."

I found this information at MattieOnline.com. One day I will write more about Mattie and if I get permission,will include a poem or two of his. He is truly an inspiration.

Well, our girls day out finally came to an end, and like the promise of a beautiful day to follow, the setting sun colored the clouds with a spread of reds and oranges. I expect I will be doing "more of this" with them this year. 

Please Send a Card to Emma

I just found this entry at Barbara's journal, HEY! LET'S TALK. I wanted to keep the request out there in case there are those who haven't seen it. It's a simple request. A card, a message, and a $.39 postage stamp will spread love and kindness, and offer comfort and friendship to one who is afraid and alone. Won't you help?

"Good Morning Everyone,

Today I am coming to you on bended knee.
I am asking this on behalf of my precious sister
who is frightened and quite alone on this journey.

She has suffered 8 years with Breast Cancer
and now it has traveled to her lungs and her liver.
She is scared and needs support of any kind.

My request of you is, if you can find it in your heart
to send a card to a complete stranger?
I asked her if I may give her address out
and she was more then happy to do so.

I want her to see what online friends are really all about.
I want her to get cards from across the world.
I want to fill her room from wall to wall.
That is my wish for my beautiful sis.

We just lost our older sister last year to this dreaded disease

Please if you haven't already, get your Mammogram.
My sister's address is:

Emma Scarola
2386 Black  River Road
Bethlehem, PA 18015"

More Moon Talk and Links

Now, see, I didn't get this graphic until today. I could have shown my students this series of the moon phases. Well, I did show them the video I mentioned in yesterday's entry, and they wanted me to replay it over and over again. One student said, "That really helps me understand it better."

One boy acted uninterested in all the moon pictures until he saw the video. He nearly jumped out his seat to get to the monitor to see the replay. Then he asked me to send the address to his cousin who has a computer. He's hooked!

This graphic came from AOL Research and Learn Skywatcher. Apparently, tomorrow night there will be a Wolf Moon, so called because "Indian tribes gave this name to January's moon. Wolf packs used to howl hungrily outside villages at this time of year."

More information regarding the names given to the different full moons can be found at The Farmer's Almanac. It's good reading.

I've include the actual web addresses of the above links for your information.

http://www.farmersalmanac.com/astronomy/fullmoonnames.html

http://reference.aol.com/space/fullmoon

 

Moon Facts and Trivia Links

 No I didn't take this photo, but I found it at Keith's Moon Page. There's a lot of interesting facts about the moon here, like why we have what we call a blue moon, an animation explaining the phases of the moon, why the moon looks bigger near the horizon, and a list of when full moons fall on Friday 13th. I didn't see tomorrow's Friday the 13th listed however, but that may because tonight is its actual full month date, but it should be full tomorrow night as well.

All this done to have something to bring to class tomorrow for my 4th grade reading class. I thought they would love to see the time lapse video I found of 3 1/2 weeks of the moon going through its phases. If you go to this link, you'll have to scroll down to find the video, but I promise you will want to check out all the other photos and videos time lapse and in real time of the moon.

Anyone ever read Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress? It was my first science fiction novel. Read it in high school. And I read Moonstone in High school in Literature class. Can't think of any other moon titles.

Can you? Enjoy the links.

http://www.netaxs.com/~mhmyers/moon.tn.html This is the actual URL address of the place where I found the moon phases video in case you want it. I realized after saving all those links the way I did, I wasn't giving any URL addresses, and I certainly want folks to be able to get there quickly and find these cool facts themselves.

http://home.hiwaay.net/~krcool/Astro/moon/ And this is Keith's Moon Page, the very interesting facts and trivia page with great moon photos and links. It's also where I found the photo above of the Orange Moon 

http://home.hiwaay.net/~krcool/Astro/moon/moonorange/).

 Bea

"Waxing Gibbeous"

The girls in my reading class had no trouble understanding the phases of the moon. Explaining to them where the earth was in relation to the moon and the sun as each phase was named was easy. We role played. I was the Sun, of course, and one girl became the moon, and the other the earth. I didn't even have to tell them what to do. After I showed them the pictures in the Astronomy book, they stood up to demonstrate, and did a great job. Even I understood it better after that.

I gave them each a sheet to take home. I told them they could record the phases of the moon over the next few weeks. The pictures of the phases, and their names (like waning gibbous, waxing gibbous, crescent, full, new, first quarter, third quarter, etc) were at the top of the sheet.

The next day, I asked them if they had seen the moon and recorded its appearance on the tracking sheet the night before. One girl had tried to, but the other said, "No, I didn't try to draw what it looked like, but it was definitely waxing gibbeous."

"Gibbeous?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"Yep, it was gibbeous."

I didn't correct her on the pronunciation just then. The time would come for that when we read the word in print again. She was using it appropriately, confidently, and how many people even know how to say that word anyway? Who knows what it means (well aside from the space buff folks)?

I was impressed that she understood what it meant.

 

Living on the Internet?

I had a good day at school except for the one student I had to send to the principal's office.

I found out this week that we are going to "test drive" a new teacher website program that will help us maintain our lesson plans, and even share them with teachers across grade level, and if it were a system-wide program, across schools.

I'm going to be one of the first to check it out and give feedback... what a tech geek I have become. I'm practically living on the internet anyway, might as well use it professionally as well.

Goodnight.

When It Is Good To Be Alone

The Dalai Lama says:

Spend some time alone every day.

That is a mantra for myself. I have others, but this is one that suits me, and has suited me long before I became a teacher.

I remember when I was as young as fourteen seeking moments and places where I could be alone. I didn’t understand it then. I just knew I wanted to be alone. I didn’t do anything significant when I found these moments and places, but that was because I didn’t know that what I did really was more significant than I could know.

Often, I would do absolutely nothing but think. It was the thinking that was significant, but I never would have considered thinking as an important thing to do. Not as a child.

I didn’t get rave reviews for my thinking ability. My grades did not reflect that I was a deep thinker. My verbal responses in a conversation certainly didn’t show off any thinking prowess. Not until I was in my late thirties/early forties did I become truly aware of my cognitive abilities, and how they were a strength for me.

I grew up in a family of seven children. I was the oldest. I was seldom alone. For many years, from the time I was a very small child, until I was about seven or eight, I remember sharing a bed with my sister, so even the act of going to bed did not enable me to be alone. We got along fine as long as she stayed on her side of the bed and I stayed on mine. If one of us strayed too far over the imaginary line that we both understood lay between us, we’d usually start playing and giggling, and that would get us into trouble. So, we stayed on our respective sides of the bed. Most of the time.

Since I was the eldest, I was selected to be the responsible one. I took the role seriously. It wasn’t that I liked babysitting or didn’t like it. I had to do it, and I tried to make it fun whenever possible. Most of the time I could.

Mom  always kept the house clean. We kids did a good job messing it up again. We were, and should have been, told to clean it up. It was our mess. I know that now. I knew it then, but didn’t like it because in my opinion, I didn’t mess the house up, they did, but we older sisters were given the chores, and often, I had to supervise them. That put me in the role of “boss,” and who likes the boss? That’s why I tried to make the work fun.

One way I did that was to play music while we worked. Music helped me get my work done, made the work more pleasant. I figured I’d try it on the younger kids, sort of motivate them, although I didn’t realize that is what I was doing. I remember a particular story we had. on record, about the wolf and the seven little billy goats.

We loved that story because we imagined that we were the seven little billy goats. As the story was being narrated, a song would interrupt to entertain the listener further. The song would be catchy, easy to remember and sing along with. I loved the story, though I was nearly 14. I could recite the story by heart, using the same intonations and phrasings as the narrator. My siblings loved it when I repeated the story imitating the record version. (We didn’t have access to tv and video games back then.)

One day I got the idea to play one of the songs, “Sweep, Sweep, Sweep the Floor.” It was a silly little rhyming song, but it was catchy. Easy to sweep floors by. I remember playing the record, and sweeping the living room floor. I danced with the broom, and was having such fun collecting all the dust, hair, dirt, etc from the floor that my younger brothers wanted to join in. I gave one of them the broom, while I kept singing and dancing beside him. I don’t remember which one it was that took over the job of sweeping the floor, but we were all singing and dusting, and cleaning, and sweeping, and putting toys and clothes away while we sang. It really was fun and the work got done.

The point to this little narrative is this: I found times to be alone, and during those times, I was able to leave the noise and the confusion of growing up for a little while. I think that by allowing myself to do that, by seeking solitude, I was able to be more imaginative and free to enjoy the special moments we had in our family.

I remember hearing remarks from other well-meaning adults as I grew older. Some thought I was withdrawing into my shell. I heard thatI was escaping reality. Another was that I lived in my own little world.

Certainly, I may have been doing all of those things. But when I was there, in the silence, in the stillness, I could calm down inside. I didn’t think or know God had anything to do with it, but looking back, I see that He was the One calming me, comforting me, and holding me. I always felt safe and secure in this aloneness.

When I seek this quiet place of being alone, even if only for a few minutes during a busy day, I feel the same calmness embrace me.

Only now, it is Christ I imagine with me.

Phases of the Moon

 I've been studying about the phases of the moon this evening in preparation for my 4th grade reading class this week. Before they read a book, focusing on generalizations, I need to give them some background on the moon phases. The story will make much more sense if I do this before we read.

Well, the lesson plan requires me to use scientific diagrams to show and explain the moon phases, and why the moon looks the way it does at different times of the month. In other words, I am going to have to tell them about the new moon, the quarter moon, the half moon, and the full moon, and if possible, explain where the moon is in relation to our earth and the sun during each of these phases.

As much as I love reading science fiction, I hadn't thought much about explaining these things, but teachers have to know enough to explain enough, so I found a book about the moon in my bookcase that I had bought before I even became a teacher (because, I guess, I am a geek after all, but only a geek, not a super geek, or a major geek, btw).

The pictures and explanations were scientific enough for even a fourth grader to understand, which means I got it!

The graphic I copied above is from a moon phase website. This is what our moon looks like tonight. Judging from the picture, and from what I see outside, that means our moon at this time is just past the first quarter moon phase, and waxing toward the full moon. ( I hope the link I left works... I tried it once but when I saved it, it wasn't linked).

If you are a moon afficianado, let me know if  I'm wrong... but do it before I tell my students!

Then, as if reading my mind, the phone rings, and it's my friend and neighbor, Alyson, telling me to run outside and look at the moon! What's the chance?

I go outside while she's still on the phone,  and she tells me there is a huge ring around the moon, larger than what we normally call a halo, a very wide diameter... I don't know if that is a weather predictor... I know when we see a halo around the moon, it means snow within ten days. But this was not a typical halo, it was much further away from the moon than most halos I've seen.

Know anything about that? Leave a response if you are a moon watcher.

And if you want to find out what the moon will look like on any particular night in the future, or how it looked on any given date in the past, go to Virtual Reality Moon Phase Pictures, from the US Naval Observatory (http://aa.usno.navy.mil/data/), where you can plug in dates and times, and click, a picture of the moon. Really cool if you like these kinds of things.

Thanks, Bea

Only If You Love Your Computer!

  Cleaning Poem  

I asked the Lord to tell me
Why my house is such a mess.
He asked if I'd been 'putering',
And I had to answer "yes."

He told me to get off my fanny
And tidy up the house.
And so I started cleaning up...
The smudges off my mouse.

I wiped and shined the topside.
That really did the trick...
I was just admiring my work...
I didn't mean to 'click.'

But click, I did, and oops I found
A real absorbing site
That I got SO way into...
I was into it all night.<<Sigh>>

Nothing's changed except my mouse
It's very, very shiny.
I guess my house will stay a mess...
While I sit here on my hiney!  

 

This came to me from my Aunt Delvia email this evening.I loved it!

Thought you would, too.

 < : - )  Bea

Friday Fiver on Sunday. OOps. Late again!

"Let's play!!!

This weeks theme is...potatoes. I don't know why...I am just thinking about them.

1.  When was the last time you had mashed potatoes?  Were they regular mashed potatoes or some kind of fancy version?

I had mashed potatoes last Sunday when Alyson and her family came over for a New Year's Day dinner. They weren't fancy, just plain butter, salt, and pepper, just the way everyone likes them. Good old fashioned mashed potatoes. Alyson made them because I didn't have any potatoes, and I had asked her to make them the night before (the firepit, remember?).

2.  Do you grow your own veggies? Have a garden? If so are potatoes one of the things you grow?

I did once upon a time before I became a full time working girl, and gave it up. We never grew potatoes. My husband is the one with the green thumb in this house.

3. French fried potatoes...do you like natural cut fries, with skin still on or the McDonald's kind?

Either way is fine... I love potatoes with or without the skin.

4.  How about potato salad?  Do you like it? Have a family recipe you have used for  years?

I love plain, old fashioned potato salad. I have a recipe that I follow, and ingredients include relish (whatever is in the fridge) to sweeten it up a bit.

5.  Did you have a Mr. Potato head as a kid?  Ever purchased one for someone else's kid?

I don't recall ever having one as a kid, however, I think I may have bought one or two over the years for my child, andfor other kids.

This little game is complement of Robin. Here's her link if you'd like to add your answers. The Five logo is hers also.