Space Odessy Nothing!

My sister thinks all five of us (sister, brother-in-law, niece, nephew, and me) should dress up as the monkeys and the monolith from 2001: A Space Odessy for our halloween costume. Yeah, I know, re-dic-u-lous.

I recently bought a small vacuum for the carpet in my classroom and my nephew put the box over his head and ran around running into things. It's about as tall as he is so he looked like a walking box. My sister thinks we should paint the box black, cut eye holes, and turn him into the monolith. So that means the rest of us have to dress up (and act?) like monkeys? Sorry sis, but no thank you.

For as stupid (yes, I am completely biased) as that movie is, it seems to have pervaded our cultural psyche. Yesterday my sister pointed out that lots of people make references to it. As a lover of good allusions, I can hardly argue, but do they have to be about THAT movie? What is it about monkeys and monoliths, humans and computers, revolving space ships and "The Blue Danube" that we connect to? Now today I received an emailed link to an article asking if Google is making us stupid. How does it start? The author quotes HAL as he is "dying."

"Dave, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, Dave. Will you stop, Dave?”

Yes, please stop!

Okay, so I'll grant that I have never done an in depth study of the movie or any sort of serious thematic dissection. And yes there are those out there who really like it. And yes I'm probably taking it out of context because it was filmed before I was born in a different movie age. But, seriously, jogging in a revolving space ship for, what, 10 movie minutes?

I'm just sayin'.

Won't you be my neighbor

I love that I get to live next to wonderful people. I was in the process of opening my classroom door this morning when my phone rang. It was my neighbor calling to find out if I meant to leave my garage door open. Of course I hadn't and she said she would run over and close it for me. This is the kind of thing that happens when I get super busy or stressed, so I'm glad to know I've got people watching my back.

Besides that, it's an opportunity to remember a great American who made a difference in my childhood. Thanks Mr. Rodgers for reminding us to be good neighbors!

Pictastory: Happy Birthday Munchkin!

I have the pleasure of living close enough to my sister and her family to see them fairly often. The result is that I have lots of pictures and videos of the kiddos. Since today is my niece's birthday, I thought I would post some of my favorite pics and movies beginning with the earliest. Enjoy!


Three Months: Baths are great!



Six Months: Roll over, Baby!




Six Months: Yep, you'll get lots of nutrients from that!


Six Months: Chug that rice cereal!


Six Months: Mom, is this what I'll look like when I grow up?


Eleven Months: Yeah, I can walk, sort of.





One Year: My First Cake


One Year: Grandpa, I love this slide thing.



One Year and Three Weeks: I love to accessorize!



Twenty-Two Months: Gotta get this cleaned up for Daddy's birthday!



Twenty-Two Months: Now lets see, yesterday I watered the tomatoes . . .


Twenty-Three Months: I love to help!



Twenty-Three Months: Leaf anyone?




Twenty-Three Months: Oma, that thing's kinda big.



Two years and Eight Months: Got Sand? I'll take it!


Two Years and Eight Months: Look Dad--the rock splashed!


Two Years and Eight Months: If I do it just right, maybe it will go in.



Two Years and Nine Months: Just chillin'


Two Years and Nine Months: Posing with Great-Grandma



Two Years and Nine Months: Daddy's lap is the best!


Two Years and Nine Months: Impromptu Swim in Zion



Two Years and Nine Months: Clue to what's happening here-- "I don't think we should keep daisies in the garden. They really are drab little flowers."


Two Years, Eleven Months: Pure Happiness!

I love you sweetie!

Pictastory: In which I stumble upon something famous

This week's Pictastory goes back to 2002. That summer, my mom, her mom, and I went to England for two and a half weeks to do family history research. We didn't spend the whole time looking at old wills, however. We spent a few days in London and one in Stratford-Upon-Avon before heading off to North Hampton to begin the real work. From there we went to other counties and other records offices. We got to the point where we couldn't see any more immediate genealogy work to do so while my mom and grandma looked through some more film (film readers make me sea sick) I checked out the local library for possible tourist destinations. I was leafing through a book on the near-by Peak District, when I came across a picture similar to this one:
I thought, hmmm . . . could it be? No. Maybe? Well . . . maybe we should check it out. Without revealing my suspicion to my mom, I suggested we go see Lyme House in the Peak District. They both agreed and off we went. Try as I might, I couldn't keep my exceitment to my self, so when we stopped at an Tourist information place (why, I don't remember), I showed my mom a leaflet on the house and told her it's significance. She was as excited as I was.

We made it there and enjoyed touring the grounds and learning about the family who had owned the land and house. The house itself was closed that day so we didn't get to go in, but it was fun to find all the significant spots on the grounds. See if you can recognize these locations:

Location #1

Location #2
Location #3
Afterward, we continued to drive through the Peak District and followed the signs to this place:


It's not as recognizable from this side since the movie (a newer version of the same story as the one above) that used it filmed everything from within the park. We got there just before closing time so it wasn't worth paying the x number of pounds to see it for five minutes. Even though we didn't get to go inside, I still recognized it when I saw this version of the movie. It's rather ironic since in the book they do visit this place and yet in the movie it is used as his house.

Sorry to be so cryptic, but it's so much fun to see if people can guess. Have fun!

Early American Battle Tactics

It's probably apparent that I like alluding to things (usually movies) and seeing if anyone can figure it out. On occasion, however, I like alluding to things that my audience will not only never figure out, but also never notice that I've slipped something in.

Case in point: My letter to my new students.

In this letter I included some information about what books I am reading and what I like to do in my spare time. Can anyone figure out what I am subtly alluding to that none of my students will ever notice or figure out?

In my spare time, I enjoy reading all sorts of books. Right now I am reading a book about early American battle tactics and recently finished one about a teenage super-spy. I enjoy keeping up a blog so that my friends and family know what’s happening in my life. When I’m not writing blog entries, I like to quilt and play ultimate frisbee both of which are great ways to unwind. I also enjoy writing poetry and reading friends and family member’s blogs.

It's a Wonderful Life

If you are a regular reader of this random blog, you will know that a couple of weeks ago my sister came down to visit and spent one afternoon and night at my place. (She stayed longer than that, but we all went to her in-laws place.) It's always wonderful to share my own space with someone, but especially with my sister and her kids.

After the initial hugs and kisses and moving things in, we all hopped in the car and went to visit the farm I farm-sat for. My niece had gotten to see all the pictures and videos when I posted them--if she drank all her milk for the day at least--and enjoyed them. It was even better in real life. We saw the baby goat who drank all her milk, the cows who make funny noises, the chickens and where they lay their eggs, the garden, the cats and dogs, and the pigs. (I never really talked about the pigs before because I didn't have to do anything for them since their food and water is automated.) We even picked black berries and beans--which were eaten on the spot--and tomatoes.

We headed home to dinner. My niece and nephew made short work of the living room and soon there were dominoes everywhere. They loved it. They got to take baths in Aunt Elizabeth's bath tub and climb/crawl up and down the stairs (it was my 10-month-old walking nephew's first experience with stairs he could use himself with supervision).

At some point in the evening, while my sister was doing something with the baby, my niece and I headed over to the small park in my development. The weather was perfect and had been all afternoon. As we were walking over, my niece said with complete awe in her voice, "This is a wonderful place." She said it a couple of times, actually.

I've thought a lot about that over the last few weeks. And it's true. I do live in a wonderful place. From her almost three-year-old perspective, it had been an amazing afternoon. I guess I had enjoyed it just as much as she did, but in my own way. It's just that in her innocent wisdom, she recognized what she had in all it's goodness and glory and said so. What an example!

So here I am, stating for the world that I live in a wonderful place. I have a wonderful life. I have more blessings than I can count and certainly more opportunities to serve than I take. The title probably doesn't count as an allusion since it's a title itself, but it is one of my favorite movies and illustrates the need to actively see and communicate the positive things in life.

Thanks to Jimmy Stewart and my niece for reminding me to see life in all it's wonderful glory.

Farm Sitting Part 2: What's that got to do with the price of eggs?

Movie quote--any takers?

For the most part, the two and a half day stint at farm sitting went very smoothly. No one jumped the fence or got sick. However, I made a few relatively benign mistakes that made things a little more interesting.

Fed after the cats and dogs, the chickens got an ice cream size bucket of feed twice a day plus six or seven handfuls of wheat as scratch in the morning. In the evenings, I collected the eggs. I officially started my farm sitting experience Wednesday evening and so got to collect the eggs right off. I don't know if this is standard farm procedure, but the chickens had a dark box where they laid their eggs. The box opened into the storage part of the barn making egg collecting rather easy.


Two of those eggs were not laid in the box. There were a few hens who preferred more light when they felt the urge to lay, but they were consistent with the placement and I never had to go looking for eggs. Here's a picture of the "rogue" eggs:
There were actually two sections to the chickens. One with about eight hens, and another with two hens and a rooster. When the owner walked me through everything, she said that she thought she saw a chick in the second section, but hadn't verified it. Neither of the hens in this section laid their eggs in the boxed area (a different one from the one in the picture) and you had to move the hen out of the way to get at the eggs. The owner told me to just grab the tail feathers and show her who's boss.

When I went to collect the eggs from this section, I did just that. And that was my mistake. There was a chick (I could see it) and I got soundly nipped as I tried to move the hen to get the eggs. It wouldn't have been so bad if I had used my head (not to gather the eggs). Everyone knows that you don't bother a mother with young and I did it anyway. Yes I had seen the chick and I did it anyway. To make matters worse, I hadn't worn gloves so I got a nice peck on my palm. It wasn't more than a scratch, but it stung throughout the rest of the chores (or maybe that was my pride). Here's the ferocious hen and her baby.

The rest of the hens and rooster were never a problem. Of course I never tried to grab their tail feathers.
Thanks to these obliging chickens I haven't had a store bought egg for a while.

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.

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.

You Hear the Door Slam . . .

Okay, so name that tune (see title).

I feel like I'm in the doldrums of the school year. It's been hard keeping my chin up as it were and keeping a level head. The kids must feel similarly it seems because I've had more issues of the annoying behavior that gets under the skin.

With that back ground, earlier last week I had gone over to the classroom next door to ask the teacher if a student could work quietly in her room. As I returned to class through the doorway that connects our two classrooms, I found my class more out of control than I was willing to accept. As I stormed into the classroom to give them what for, I let my anger get the best of me and I slammed the door on my way in. I don't let myself get angry too often like that. I hate the feeling and really it doesn't do any good. The kids certainly were good the next day, though.

The silver lining is that my neighbor teacher has been laughing about it ever since. She was so surprised that her supposedly level headed, calm, put together neighbor (like anyone who knows me well would believe that!)had it in her to slam the door like that. When the story came out next day at lunch, everyone got a kick out of it and congratulated me on joining the "dark side." I was just glad that I could provide some entertainment. Now if only my students saw it that way!

Think spring everyone!

Cheese in a sandwhich--what a happy thought

I had to post this just for the title (again, let me know if you catch the allusion).

A few nights ago when I was making my lunch for the next day, I suddenly and without explanation didn't just want lettuce and pepper turkey on my sandwich. I'd pretty much eat the same thing for lunch every school day--pepper turkey or pastrami sandwich, string cheese, carrots, and an apple. And yes, it sometimes get old. So what else could I put on the sandwich?

I immediately thought of cheese and immediately remembered that I don't like cheese on my sandwiches. Too bad, I thought. If I don't like it I don't every make it again, but it sounds good right now. And it was. So now I put cheese on my sandwich everyday. What a happy thought.

Yea, I'm a [teacher] again!

If you get that reference, let me know. I received my "unofficial" scores for the ORELA test--the scary test I had to take a while ago. I passed with a 288 and 287 out of 300 on each section. I had to get at least a 240. I'm very grateful for everyone's help and support. I really felt the Lord's support, too. It was a good practice in putting my trust in the Lord and not worrying about the outcome.