Oh where oh where have my dominoes gone?

No, I haven't lost my marbles, just the dominoes. My sister recently came to visit with my niece and nephew. They spent one night with me before we all headed down to her in-laws for the week. I don't have many kid toys--my collection includes one toy truck--so my sister pulled out the dominoes since they play with those at home, too. It was all good. My niece shared them with the cats hiding underneath the couch and made lines of them on the window seal. After the kids went down, my sister gathered them all up and put them away.

Later in the week, we ended up stopping by my house for dinner to break up the drive home from the beach. They pulled out the dominoes and had fun scattering them about. We ate quickly so we could be back for bed time.

The visit ended and I came back home where there were a few, but only a few, dominoes scattered around the house. I picked up a couple and went to put them in box, but the box was empty. Where were the dominoes? I looked under the couch where the cats had been hiding. I looked behind the chair where my niece had hidden once. I couldn't find them anywhere.

I continued on with my chores which included remaking the bed in the sewing room. There I saw this:
My niece had put the majority of the dominoes into the wooded basket (a gift from my brother and sister-in-law) and put it under the sewing desk.
The irony is that they were in the same place I found my missing box. From now on, I think I'm going to look under the sewing desk when I can't find something.

The Corn Game

I spent the last few days in Seattle making myself useful. I figured that was a good way to start off my summer--being useful and being in Seattle. Amidst everything, my niece and I invented a new game. The Corn Game, as we call it, is quite simple.

How to Play:

Step One: Take a bowl of mixed white and yellow popcorn kernels.

Step Two: Put a handful of popcorn in a bowl or on a plate and pick out all the yellow ones.

Step Three: Dispose of the now separated corn in any appropriate manner. We threw out the white ones (too old for anything) and kept the yellow ones.

History:

My sister's grinder had recently broken and she thought it might have been because of the old white popcorn she had been grinding for cornbread. And, as we are Brodericks, we couldn't let all the newer yellow corn go to waste just because we wanted to throw out the old white stuff.

My niece had strapped herself into her booster seat because . . . well why do two-year-olds do half the things they do? Who knows. I thought it would be great to get her to help sort the popcorn; it would keep her occupied while my sister worked on dinner and would get the job done. We just weren't sure if she could do it. Well she could and we called it The Corn Game.

Accessorizing The Corn Game:

1. Shout for joy every time you pick out a yellow kernel.

2. Put the yellow kernels in another container before dumping them in with the rest. The more often you dump, the better. You can even dump after one kernel.

3. Allow everyone a chance to get one handful at a time from the mixed kernels to pick through.

4. Occasionally drop a kernel and the person not strapped into a booster seat gets to pick it up.

5. Shout to Mommy that you are playing "The Corn Game," or that you are helping.

Warnings:

1. Let the two-year-old get the last of the mixed kernels from the container.

2. Discourage the swallowing of kernels.


So, does anyone else have "games" you've made up to keep kids occupied?


Co-author of "The Corn Game"

Oh where oh where has my little box gone?

This last Thursday I was scouring my house of a card that wasn't a thank-you card that I could use to mail my brother's wedding gift. I was so sure I had some cute plain ones somewhere. I checked under the desk in the sewing room where I last saw them and saw a random box. It had been there for I don't know how long. As it was under the desk where I keep my semi-permanently borrowed sewing machine, I'm sure I had kicked it or bumped it every time I sat down to sew something, but I had never bothered to see what it was. I opened it up, and found items I thought I had lost.

At the end of the school year, Neil Armstrong requires all teachers to box up pretty much everything for the summer. Over the summer, everything gets moved out so that the floors can be waxed. I had to have things off the floor in Utah, too, but at least there I had counters and cupboards and so didn't have to actually pack everything up like I was moving.

At the end of last school year, knowing things would be jostled and moved, I packed a few things in a box to take home. These were things that I didn't want to or couldn't replace if they broke or got lost. I had a number of children's books and a set of ceramic unicorn bookends I got for Christmas one year. They made it home at the end of last school year and I didn't see them again until this last Thursday.

At the beginning of the year, I had looked desperately for the box but to no avail. One of my first lessons uses one of the books in the box. I ended up checking out the book from a library across town. I was just glad I could find it. I had to change some other lessons because I couldn't find some of the other books. I was sad because I enjoyed those books and lessons and the books represented personal monetary investments.

I'm not sure how I missed the box in all my desperate searchings. It certainly gave new meaning to the phrase "hidden in plain sight." Anyone else have random "lost and found" stories? Please share.

Mad Libs

My sister-in-law sent me a delightful birthday card in the form of a mad lib. However, if I am going to enjoy it to it's fullest, I need some help coming up with the words. So, if anyone would like to help out please give one of each of the following. Use your judgment please.

adjective
time of day
noun
number
number
noun
verb (past tense)
article of clothing
body part
famous person
noun
body part-plural
adverb

Later I'll post the text of the card with your suggestions.

Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

That is a fairly common saying, but for true fans, you will know exactly what I am alluding to.

I came down with a nasty cold this week. I had been healthy all year, a feat for someone who teaches 7th grade. I stayed home from school on Wednesday, but dragged myself to school on Thursday sans voice. My students needed me. We had work to do! We also had parent teacher conferences that evening, but I had to communicate in purple via a small white board.

I again dragged myself to school on Friday along with my laptop. I had decided I needed to be a little more high tech about how I communicated with my students. With my laptop connected to the projector, I typed my lesson. The kids were great. It wasn't a big deal because they were just finishing an assignment I had given them the day before.

Despite my innovations, by lunch time, I was done for. Leaving my lunch where it was, I went directly to the team office and collapsed on the couch. The teacher who was already there put her jacket over me, and as the other teachers came in I could hear the whispered--she should go home--yes, but there aren't any subs--well, who has 5th period prep--etc. Twenty minutes later, I was told that the remaining classes were covered and that I was to go home.

I printed out my lesson off my laptop--it was very convenient to have it all scripted word for word--packed up my stuff, and went home. My plan was to take my temperature, two TylenolPM, and sleep for as long as I could. I was out of the frying plan.

I successfully took my temperature (101+) with my relic of a thermometer--the old glass and mercury kind. Unfortunately, as I was shaking it down, it hit the sink and broke. Great! I carefully cleaned everything up, took a decongestant, two Tylenol PM, and crawled into bed. That's when I realized I had something in my eye.

I crawled out of bed and extracted an eye lash; however, after crawling in and out of bed two more times, I realized that a minute piece of glass from the thermometer was in my eye. Double Great! After debating with myself for about a minute, I knew that I had to go directly to the doctor. Problem: I couldn't drive. I took two TylenolPM.

I called my visiting teacher who found someone to take me to the doctor as she herself couldn't. No appointment times were available, but "foreign body" patients don't have to have one apparently. As I talked to the lady at Kaiser, I was crying, but I told her I wasn't going to try to stop as the tears would probably help.

Fighting sleep, a temperature, a cough, and the fatigue that comes from not having eaten anything since breakfast, I made it to the doctor's office with the assistance of a sister in my ward. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long to see the optometrist. She numbed my eye and confirmed that I did have a sliver of glass embedded in my cornea. After explaining exactly what she was about to do, she fished it out whereupon I became lightheaded and nauseous. It took five minutes of lying down on the floor and two cans of OJ to get me feeling a bit better. I now have to put antibacterial ointment into my eye three times a day for the next few days. That, I can handle.

So here I am alternately taking decongestant and putting cream in my eye. Everyone keeps saying--That's terrible--you poor thing. Granted, it's not very fun, but I'm more inclined to laugh than cry. Who would have thought that I would end up at the optometrist's getting glass removed from my eye when all I wanted to do was take two TylenolPM and go to sleep. Talk about going from the frying pan into the fire.

Here's a picture of my new thermometer purchased yesterday when I picked up my eye-cream prescription (It wouldn't upload right side up!). When I read the back, I had to chuckle.