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.

Basically I'm on my way to Australia

The title is, once again, a movie reference. If you have no idea and would like a hint, please visit my sister's blog. Moreover, I would like to state for the record that I introduced her to the movie.

In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson

In my efforts to increase my intake of non-fiction, I grabbed this title off the book-on-cd shelf at the library, loaded it onto my iPod (deleting it off my computer after I was done), and proceeded to venture into the wild unknown of Australia. Over all, I enjoyed the book. I learned A LOT about Australia, but there are three things in particular that I learned.

1. The chances of the average person knowing anything about Australia beyond boomerangs, the simple existence of aborigines, kangaroos, (start video about 5:50) the opera house, the Great Barrier Reef, and P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way Sydney are, well, not great. Before reading (okay listening to) this book I can't say I knew much more myself. There's a vast amount of amazingly ironic and seemingly impossible history. It was quite the education.

2. I could spend six or seven months traveling around the country and still miss some of the finer points of interest. I would make a list of every possible point of interest, but it would be easier if you just read the book. However, my top four destinations would be the following: (I admit that I am going to cheat and list large areas rather than specific locations. I don't think I could narrow it down any further.)

Adelaide, South Australia and the neighboring State of Victoria: My reason for this begins not with the book, but with my Grandparents. My mother's parents spent 18 months in and around Adelaide (South Australia) and Broken Hill (New South Wales) as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I would love to see the areas they served in. As far as the book goes, his description of the verdant and exquisite State of Victoria leave me wishing for my own view. I'm a sucker for scenery and literally have no other choice.

Queensland: This apparently highly quirky state is rich in beaches, tropical forests, and deadly creatures. It's the place to go if you want to visit the Great Barrier Reef and have a narrow brush with death, I mean a jelly fish.

Norther Territory: Home to Uluru (aka Ayers Rock), it also houses such specimens as Devils Marbles, and Stuart's tree where one of the most famous Australian Outback explorers carved an "S" into the trunk marking the place where, on the brink of death by dehydration, they finally found water. Apparently you can't see the "S," but it certainly allows you to contemplate the finer things of life--like water.

Western Australia: Here you will find the pleasant city of Perth and as in all parts of Australia, plants and animals that you will not find anywhere else in the world. Take for example the Walpole-Nornalup National Park home to the Tingle Tree and a high rise walk through the canopy.

3. If life ever gets too much, I will sell off everything and go to Australia. I should have enough to get there, rent an RV and spend six or seven months traveling the country before choosing one of several hundred ways to die. For example, I could tramp through the Queensland Tropics, find a spider or snake no one has ever seen before and let it bite me. Of course prior to the bite I would take a picture of the creature and put the camera in a plastic bag with a note indicating the date and myself as the discoverer along with a suggestion for a name.

If that's not to my liking, I could always go swimming during the box jelly fish season. Before hand, however, I will need to plan a way to record how painful the experience is as I go through it so that I can add to body of box jelly fish research. If I chicken out on that idea, I can always let myself get caught in a rip tide, swim over a deep ocean channel with sharks and groupers lurking about, or discover some aquatic animal that no one has ever seen before and packs enough venom in it's seemingly innocent appearance to kill 10 adults.

Depending on my mood at the time I could also opt for walking out in the outback, though apparently one must be prepared to drink one's own urine before giving in to the 140 degree heat and finishing life as a meal for dingos. Or once again it may happen that I find some previously unknown creature designed for instant death and leave this world knowing I won't be forgotten as long as I have enough time to write a note stating my name next to a crude sketch and description of the animal.

So there you have it: a glimpse of what I gleaned from this enjoyable book. I had actually intended this post to be more of a review than a report, but the delightful and ironic way the author shares his experiences made me want to share the funny and interesting things I learned. My biggest disappointment with this post, however, is the fact I wasn't able to work what seemed to be Bryson's favorite phrase: And here's the thing. Oh well, maybe next time.

Final note: If you do ever decide to read this book, know that some swearing crops up here and there, though the author manages to mostly just "quote" other people.

Stand as a Witness

Here's a video of a student at Harvard sharing her belief and testimony of the gospel in a very articulate way. As a member of an on-campus panel, she answers some very direct questions with grace and testimony. It's worth the full 21 minutes.


Day of Faith: Personal Quests for a Purpose - 3. Rachel Esplin from Harvard Hillel on Vimeo.

Arrrr. . .

Just in case there is anyone who hasn't seen these yet amongst my small audience, here's an uplifting laugh. Too bad the doctor didn't give me an eye patch; I would have fit right in.

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.