Friday, December 20, 2013

Seeing the Goodness

I just realized I have not posted anything here in almost two weeks.  I have been out of sorts.  My body has gone strike and is refusing to remotely behave  and that just makes me feel blah. I am going to have some blood work done next week to see about it all.

In the past week and a half, Jack Dear did indeed come home and afte 5 days of working on it, did get our water well going again.  About the time we came home, he went back to Alva.  Staying at Jack 's parents for a whole was week was a weird mix of stress and luxury.  I fretted about Bell getting on their nerves and about our water woes.  I fretted about a lost debit card (issue now resolved).  I just fretted not being at home.  It was also the week of making semester tests and trying to cajole and plead and threaten my few problem children into passing my class by just turning something in. It was luxury to have a washer and dryer inside the house but not in the kitchen that was big with more counter space than I used.  The magic tub.   The fireplace.

I just feel like I have been going through the motions for two weeks.  There were some fabulous moments with my family and at girls night, but mostly I have been disconnected.  My mind whirls with ideas and questions and frustrations, but each day felt unplugged.

Today was better and it was all due to the last three minutes of the drive to work.  Two months ago, a staff member mentioned that a particular kid always looked guilty, shifty eyed as if he was up to something.  I didn't know the kid other than by sight, but I had certainly never seen him do anything bad or rude, but hey, what did I know?  Maybe that staff member had some insight that I didn't have.  Today, the young man was walking his little brother and sister to school.  When I drove past them, the boy was hanging on tight to his little brother's hand.  The younger child looked 5 or 6 and was just little enough to still not watch for cars.  The little boy's steps were smaller and the older boy shortened his steps to match.  When they got to the parking lot, he didn't go his own way or drop the smaller child's hand.  I could the little boy chattering and the bigger brother nod his head, listening.    I don't know this boy or who he is, but it so warmed my heart to see a big high school kid being that sensitive to what was probably a pesky sibling.  I  caught the young man later this morning walking down the hall.  I asked if he always walked his brother and sister to school.  He nodded, not sure where I was going with the question.  I patted him on the shoulder and simply said "you are a good big brother" to which his face lit up and he nodded a quick appreciation.  I asked around and found out that other teachers said he is a really nice kid.  Maybe he will be in my class next year.

Something about that moment of little boy and big boy together made me teary eyed and thankful that I get to be with these kids, get to know them, maybe learn a little while I teach a little.  It more than made up for the day before when I was this close to yelling at a kid, this close to telling a kid he was wasting my time and the oxygen in the room, for actually saying "If you want to fail my class this badly, go ahead because I can't make you pass and I am finished trying."    The boy walking to school didn't particularly look like he was having fun, but he looked like he was patiently doing something he knew must be done.  That patience and gentleness and goodness emanating from him was such an example to me.

I finished the day with a learning disability student making the highest grade on the final.  It was so nice to be able to say this kid who struggles so much, who often doesn't get it the first or even second time, "man, you did a fabulous job."  What it also says is that my other kids didn't study enough., which is a different rant.  If anyone deserved to have the highest grade, it was this boy who studied the most and tried his hardest.  I like that work sometimes pays off more than just sheer smarts.  I like to be able to send home an email bragging on a kid who doesn't get bragged on much.

Friday is the last day before break.  I have a smidge of stocking shopping left to do.  Family time coming up.  Jack will be home next week.  I am ready for a break, but I am really thankful for this day.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Cozy and Thankful for the Family That Came With Marriage

It is amazing how much differenc water, a warm house, and some sleep make.

We made the move up to Rubilee's mid morning yesterday, pushing our stuff in a wheelbarrow through the snow.   A 7 year old thinks she should pack her own bag (which has an equal amount of stuffed animals and good choices like a book and a board game), a mom packs toiletries, clothes, the pillow and blanket ( to which the kid has a Linus like attachment), supplemental groceries, briefcase full tests and AP a Research papers, a sled, and craft stuff and games ( to keep kid busy when she discovers that stuffed animals have a limited entertainment value.). Yes, we unglamorously trudged up with a wheelbarrow.

It was a good day.  Rubilee and Harold have very different internal thermostats so it was a very toasty day, the kind where I wear my thinnest pants and a tee shirt while the heat is set on 76.  That's totally okay.  We played in the snow a little, we made cookies and biscotti, we had baths in the magic tub ( it has jets) and Bell was going to sleep in the magic bed ( hide-a-bed) though she ended up in my bed.

My in laws have a big house with living quarters and bedrooms on both floors so we were able to spread out.  When they wanted family time, we all were upstairs, but when they needed a break, they went downstairs where they mostly live when we aren't here.  When they went to bed, I cracked a window for a bit over my bed and turned the heat down a twitch.  I made sure I reset it when I got up.

I am still stressed about our water situation.  I hate to think of having to dig up the sidewalk to replace the line that will surely break while we are shut down.  I hate to think of Jack driving home Monday and having to come here instead of home, possibly for most of his stay at home because if the pipes break, it will not be a quick fix.  On the other hand,  I am really thankful for this warm house with its magic tub and wide spaces.

But here is the thing.  I know so many people who dread going to their in-laws, who see their spouse's family as something to be endured.  I am so lucky, so blessed to get to share Jack's family.  His parents are kind and seem to genuinely like us being here (they may be ready for a break come Monday).  They are gracious and hospitable, but are also past treating us like company.  Rubilee has finally in the last year let me help in the kitchen.  Harold feels free to tease me.  But they do the big things like open their home as easily as they do the small things.  Yesterday, Harold went in the truck and went up and down my driveway making a path so I could get my car out if I have to.  I always cringe when I hear other people talk about in-laws as if they are something to be endured.  I know my dad's parents see my mom as the daughter they didn't have, so maybe I just a good example of what this extended family thing should be.  Or maybe I am just blessed.

Friday, December 6, 2013

Cold. Just damn cold.

I have been awake since 2 for the most part.  Partly the old bursitis and sciatica in my hip kept me up, but I think I just fretted a lot.

I wish I could be one of those calm, serene people who took things in stride and never got ruffled, but I am not.  I obsess and I fret.  I grind my teeth, stay awake all night and get fever blisters.

Yesterday, the sleet started in Elgin around 11 and the snow mixed with sleet had begun in ear test by noon.  It was 2 before I got my classes covered and got out of there.  The drive home was tense, but okay.  Getting up our hill to the house was a different matter.  Right inside the gate, the car started slipping.  I debated leaving it there, but I would have spent the next 4 days worried that it would slide down in the road or that something would happen to it.  So with a little salt and cat litter and a shovel and 45 minutes, I got up the hill and under the carport.  With only a little salt, I kept having to move the car five feet and then scoop up the salt and move it too.

I gave in and fed the stray dog, but he had to make do with sleeping on the cat bed in the shed.  Poor cats are not happy, but I just can't let a stray in.  And don't say call animal control.  Where I live animal control consists of a shotgun and a ditch.  Harsh, but true.  I got some laundry done in anticipation of losing power and water, got some chicken soup going for Bella, and then noticed the water was surging.

Of course Jack has been in Alva for the both the last snow storm and this one, so I got to crouch down under the pressure tank with a phone and pull this lever and watch that gauge and flip that switch while Jack tried to diagnose my problem.  Last night he thought we had a broken waterline between the well and the house, causing the pump to constantly kick on.  Rather than burn up the pump overnight and then have to pull it out of the well, we opted for shutting the water off.  I can turn it on for a few minutes to refill toilets and water jugs, but that is it.  No dripping to protect my water line.  This morning Jack thinks it must be something wrong in a control switch, but once again, this is not something I can fix.  In the meantime, if we didn't have a broken pipe before, we probably will by the time Jack comes home next week.

In the meantime, the house is cold.  During last winter, during the last snow storm, we stayed warm, but the furnace ran all night and it is 64 in here.

I really despise venting in this space.  But I am just so tired and frustrated.  I imagine we will go to Rubilee's for the day, maybe for the duration.  I can walk down and heat up water for the barn cats and the stray. I have several cooking pots of water drawn up for emergencies so there is enough water for drinking by humans and animals.  I don't know - maybe we will walk back and sleep in my bed at night.  Maybe.  Maybe.  Not sure I will keep the kid entertained at someone else's house for days on end.  For certain, we won't be going farther than that walk to her house.

Jack is in a mood too, frustrated that there isn't anything he can do to help.  He says we just move to town and live in a condo.  A condo where pipes can still freeze, where the power can still go out, where the neighbors' dogs bark and the idiot next door plays his music too loud.  Yeah, that really isn't an option for me.  This too will pass.  We will get the water fixed, though it may take a few days depending on how much damage Jack finds when he gets home.  We can stay with my in-laws in the meantime.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Cold Days, a Warm Kitchen

It was so cold the first part of the week.  Just so cold that I dreaded each time I had to put boots on and feed animals or switch out the laundry in the well house or all those other things that needed doing beyond the confines of the house.  But put my boots on I did.  I even ventured out to play with my girl, knowing it might be a long while before I again had a chance to push her down the hill on a sled.

Sunday and Monday we divided our time between getting warm and dried out and playing outside.  I have to admit that I only was out for an hour twice on Sunday and and two on Monday.  Bella spent the 4 out on Sunday and still outlasted me again on Monday.  When we finally wore all the snow out on our own hill, we moved across the pasture to Rubilee's hill.  She seemed to get a kick out of Bell flying down her slope.  I know she watched for a long time from a perch in her warm kitchen.  She didn't seem sad that we wore out her snow too.


It was not all play though.  Poor Jack spent all day driving around in that mess.  I managed to get all of the research papers graded, but at least it was at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming tea in my hand.  Now I am at least caught up until the AP kids turn in their research papers this coming week.

That was a brief return to school on Tuesday, but Wednesday saw us in full swing in the kitchen.  Bell had crazy dance music going in the kitchen so Jack Dear had to put up with me dancing while I cooked.  He was my partner all afternoon.  We made from scratch green bean casserole - that means we start with fresh beans, boxes of mushrooms and cartons of cream and butter.  Nothing comes out of a can except the onion topping.  He made my mushroom soup - I got to show him how to do a roux.  Not often I know something he doesn't.  He then progressed to taking care of snacky foods for tomorrow night.  I was busy with fruit cake.  Oh yes.  It was fruitcake day.  Our kitchn reeks of molasses, brandy, and our own blend of spices that we made for the special tropical fruitcake; my hand has blisters from snipping all those dried fruits - I bet Jack's does too.  Between the two of us, we cut up 5 pounds of good died fruits, not the old nasty candied stuff.  Harold must have been counting on fruitcake this year because he bought the brandy before Jack had a chance to.  We will all have to wait a month for our reward.

What the week really reminded me of was how much I love being with my crazy husband and kid.  Bell and I really had fun together in the snow.  It made me think of all those snow days when my mom would come out and help us sled or try to make snowmen.  She wasn't ever the sort of mom to say, "go play while I  . . . ".    She always played out in the snow with us and then gave us hot cocoa and cookies when we came in.  I know I always loved the fact that mom enjoyed really doing things with us, not just being a parent from the living room couch.  All too often I don't seem to have enough time to really do the things I want to with Bell, so I did love that walk with her a week ago and I did love playing this week.  Those moments feel stolen, but a I am grateful for them.    And Jack?  We used to cook with each other all the time before Bella. It was our time to do something together, to talk through the events of the day, to share that book, to just be.  There is something very intimate about cooking together.  Perhaps it is the complicated dance of working together in a small kitchen or the holding out of a spoon full of cheesecake batter offering a taste of something sweet, waiting for the other person to trustingly take what you offer.  It could be foreplay, but it doesn't have to be.  It is more.  It is closeness and sharing of words and space, though the proximity of a kiss is nothing to pass up either.

Today we will be off to Loco for dinner with my family.  Since some of my siblings have to work Friday and Saturday, Rubilee graciously said she didn't mind if we had dinner with her on the weekend instead of on Thanksgiving day.   We missed Christmas dinner last year because of the snow storm so I am overdue for some Wilson holiday chaos.  It will also be the first holiday and family gathering since Tuck and Lex got married.  I am really excited to go  tomorrow.  I hope you are all
with the ones you love.  May our words be patient and gentle.  May we soak up life.  May we laugh and tell stories.  May we be a thankful.  May we love.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately

Whenever Jack leaves for the week, there is an out of joint feeling in the house.  The balance is off as we adjust to the house being a third quieter, a third less funny, sweet and witty, a third less everything.  I wouldn't say melancholy, though last time Bell did have a full blown melt down at bed time.

Today when he left, the air was balmy, almost spring like, even though things are turning rapidly from red and gold to dusty browns.  Too nice of a day to spend inside moping in front of the TV, too nice to let Bell waste knowing that cold days are around the corner.

Last week Bell and I went to the woods for an armload of grapevine and Jack Dear showed me how to make wreaths.  Today, in our rubber boots (stickers don't stick into them like tennis shoes), we girls trooped down the hill and across the lake dam to the woods beyond in search of everything from grasses to leaves to dried berries for wreath decorating.  Bell divided her time in wading in the edge of the water, managing not to get in deeper than her boots until the end, and in being my eagle eye spotting the best leaves and acorns.  We explored the old fish camp, spied on turtles, watched fish jumping, all while trying not to spook the ducks hanging out in the north neck of the lake.

All the while, Thoreau kept whispering in my head.  My kids always scoff a bit when I teach him.  They are unconvinced, they do not relate to a "barbaric yawp."  As I pulled down fat clusters of berries from a green briar, I felt like this was living, this enjoying of the day with my blond fearless leader, not just watching the lake from the house, but being down here in the sun and the water and the woods.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close.

Perhaps the problem is the my kids don't go out and just look and listen.    I know have hunters in class, but do they ever go into nature to just be, without needing to kill something?  I know they go to lakes, but are they ever peaceful, or just partying?

Whether my kids ever get it or not, days like today are good for my soul.  We managed to stay out for at least 2 hours, stopping on the way home at Grandma's for a snack and a visit.  As much as I loved being in the woods, what I needed the most was time with Bell.  There were no spelling words, no hustling off to soccer practice, no fussing about chores.  Just us.  No hash words or whining.  Just the sound of the fish splashing, the birds calling, and the wind in the trees.



Thursday, November 14, 2013

Soap Box

This page is my space to get down my thoughts and feelings about what is most important to me - family, hopes and dreams - sometimes it is a place to allow myself to be sad or angry, but I am not sure I have ever used this page to ask my friends to take political action.

This rant is primarily directed at Oklahoma, but other states have adopted similar measures, so don't discount this if you live afar.

Last week the official A-F ratings went out for schools.  We knew they were coming, we had the scores, but finally the public could see the scores too.  Elgin High got an A, as did the English Delartment itself (thanks to those fabulous ladies I work with).  So I have nothing to complain about, right?  Wrong.  From the first day our score was given, it changed 5 times, bouncing from a mid A to low and gradually back to mid.  Other schools had more changes.  These scores were based on some real data and a lot of arbitrary data.

  I say arbitrary because test scores are a fickle thing, especially when cut scores are manipulated unfairly.  We don't know what the required score will be to pass until after the tests have been graded.  Never mind that biology teachers recommended one score.  The state went with a higher  one.  Test scores are fickle because they give you a snap shot of what a kid did on a computerized test after she had been testing for the better part of two weeks, after her computer had locked up and she sat there staring at it for an hour, after who knows what went on in her home that morning, after she worked until midnight at McDonalds to bring in the only money in her house, after she took care of a baby at 2 AM, after a friend died in a car wreck, after . . . , after . . . , after .   Every one of those afters were actually true for students I administered a test to last spring.  They are real and I am guessing that much worse real things happen in our students' lives every day.

There are a lot of things that happen in students' lives that cause them not to shine their brightest, no matter how much we teach, love, motivate, cajole, discipline.  We have them part of the day and then someone else is supposed to be in charge.  Supposed  is the operative word here.   Lots of kids live in homes where no is willing or able to be in charge.

So this A - F rating is based on a lot of things ranging from what courses we offer to our test scores.  We bear a huge amount of responsibility, but we can not be entirely responsible when it comes to factors like attendance and scores.  Top this off with the idea that now these scores will affect whether I receive all of my salary.  I had to write a plan that stated what my goals were for my test scores.  If the kids don't meet it, then I don't get paid as much.  This is a pilot year thank goodness.

Sometimes kids shouldn't be responsible either.  In the third grade, the new law is that students must pass a state test to get to go on to 4th grade.  One test.  No make up.  No do over.  How many 3rd grades are ready to understand the consequences of failing one test affecting their entire next year?   They are little kids.  They get upset and distracted by silly things like whether they got to sit in the blue chair or they had to sit in the ugly brown chair, like the kids who are already at recess, like they forgot their glasses at home.  Last year Bell bombed a spelling test and said she didn't feel good.  I made her stay at school because she wasn't running a fever, but she showed me.  By bedtime she was at 103.  You think she felt good?  No, probably not, and she probably didn't do well partly because of that.  It was only a spelling test, but what if it had been that 3rd grade test?

Do not get me wrong.  Kids and schools and parents should be held accountable.  Someone she should make sure we are working every single day in my room and not just watching movies.  Someone should make sure we are discussing and doing leveled questions and analyzing and connecting, not just doing fill in the blank worksheets.  Tests are important and they do have a place.  However, when these scores start mattering so much that my eye twitches for the last 3 months of school or third grader who has made good grades all year but flopped on a test doesn't get to go on,   this is a problem.  When kids dread going to school and they are stressed out over grades and scores even though they are doing their best, this is a problem.  When the kid who has made leaps and bounds of progress but has a learning disability won't get a diploma because he didn't make the cut score, this is a problem.

And why am I ranting at you?  Because our government is largely responsible and we elected that government.  Janet Baressi is unwilling to budge on these issues and just spends more money to develop more tests.  Governor Fallin thinks schools and teachers should quit complaining or we should be penalized for our voice.  Election year is right around the corner, but right now you can demand change by letting your voice be heard publicly and in letters to your senators and representatives.  Even if you are a homeschool family, this will eventually affect you when this years students become next years employees and tax payers.  It is your tax dollars that get spent in schools.

We should have high standards, but we should have reason and good judgment too.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Taking Summer Down

Summer sang its last song weeks ago, but we weren't quite ready to say good bye.  "We" as in the garden and me.  I was still picking a few tomatoes and the vines had lots of small green ones.  I can never beat to tear down the garden until we are well and truly done.  Tuesday night will bring a hard freeze and so today, Bell and I started taking down the garden.

We only got the tomatoes vines pulled up and detangled from their cages, but over the next few weeks we will find time when Jack is home to pull up the cages and remove the wires holding them upright. Still, just this giant pile of vines was progress.  I found my first horn worm of the season today - I hate to kill them because they are so beautiful, but they are death to a tomato patch.  Not quite ready to think about winter, we planted some bulbs for spring and watered the fruit trees.  Somehow, this led to playing in the mud in November.

Last fall, we threw the birdhouse gourd that didn't mature over the fence into the Cat Kingdom.  At the end of summer Jack discovered that there was quite a birdhouse gourd patch growing back there.  They never got watered but they flourished.  Oddly enough, the grasshoppers left them alone even though the gourds we planted in the yard were devoured.

Bella and I trooped out with a basket and pruners and came back with several good sized gourds.  Now they just have to dry for a few months.  While we were across the fence, we walked on down below the lake and pulled down armloads of grapevines for fall wreaths.  Bell had never pulled down grapevines before.  Some were too big, as fat as my arm, but even the skinny ones went all the way to the tops of the oaks and elms.  Now they are piled on the picnic table since it got dark before we could shape them.

It was gorgeous out today, but Tuesday will be in the 40s.  I am not yet ready for the cold.  For today, I will be thankful for my outdoor girl who tagged along by my side as we did fall things.


Friday, November 8, 2013

Jack's child, Sarah's child

The combination of genetics and environment has created a bizarre creature in our house.  That school pic this year is my child.  The child who free hands pictures that look traced is Jack's.  The child who is okay with mediocre spelling grades because spelling is unimportant on most days is also Jack's.  The child who melt's down when she is tired or who has a fit when the spelling (that unimportant spelling) is not a 100 ( because perfection is important ) is my child.

Today's child was a challenge to my meager two cups of coffee.  Probably there wasn't enough coffee on the planet.  Thankfully there was a dad, a phone call away, to talk reason into her.  

This is strange and macabre, but Jack and Bell collect bones, particularly skulls of animals.  After cleaning the bones forever, they study their structure and have science conversations about species and why one animal is built this way and not that way.   This all seems slightly odd, but harmless.  These skulls are usually found in the pasture or near the lake.  Today, however, below the house, a coyote had been hit by a car.   Bell was furious because I woudln't stop and get its head.  On the way to school.  7:15.  School clothes.  40 degrees.  Dead coyote.  Absolutely not.

My refusal infuriated her beyond belief.  I was thwarting her interest in biology and that coyote was dead anyway and by the time we came home, some truck would have ran over it and crushed it.  

Here's the thing.  As ridiculous as her request was, her response to me was, well, just like me.  Stubborn.  Tenacious.

So I have been thinking today about personalities and quirks and how most of us fall a bit short of perfect.  Bell is a handful when she is tired and makes me crazy, but I am pretty sure I make Jack nuts at times, and I know I made my parents crazy.  My students undoubtedly would like to change a few of my quirks.  

I need others' patience and support, their love.  But that means I have to practice patience too, and not just my eccentric child, but with those 90 other children, their parents, the annoying woman in Walmart last week.

  A lack of coffee really isn't valid.  Neither is technology that didn't work all week.  I need to work a bit harder at that patience, no matter what.  Even when dead coyotes show up.   

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Bella Day

Last fall the first grade went to Tiger Safari near Tuttle .  The first grade sans Bella who woke with a stomach bug that day.  We promised our own family trip there but unemployment brings money woes and the day trip kept getting pushed back and back and back.  We had honestly planned a trip in the spring but Jack was working a crazy schedule  and always seemed on call.  Ten there was the back injury.

Chaos abounds for us.  Jack is back at work but is still limping and slow going so we haven't planned any real trips yet, but Bella really needed a special day.  She has not handled everything with grace lately, but there were a few moments in the past few weeks, when she handled disappointment at least stoically if not gracefully.  Jack had Sunday off and though it was chilly, we packed the kid in the car with a cryptic "we have errands to run" and "shoe shopping. ". Instead of complaining, she just nested in the back seat and cheerfully sang along with Jack and the radio.

We had hoped she wouldn't notice we were going to Tiger Safari until we actually pulled in, but she saw a billboard about a mile out, and cleverly figured out my plan.

We braved the wind and trooped from enclosure to enclosure watching lemurs and monkeys play, tigers and lions spat, and bears chew on their toes.  Bell got to do a bit handling at the end - she says lemurs are crazy soft.



We really don't take too many days and just blow them off this way.  They are expensive, but not just in money, but in time.  Until soccer is over, we are on the go every Saturday and during the week, we barely keep our heads above water.  But sometimes, it just needs to be about us being together.  Those days of rest are important, but a day together feeds the soul. 


Sunday, November 3, 2013

Stage Center

I haven't been able to get off the merry go round just yet.  In the past week, we had something "extra" every single day.  There were soccer practice nights, a day with a double header game, Halloween, a night at Rubliee's to have dinner with visiting family from Washington . . . Just crazy busy.  As much fun as it is to let Jack turn my kid into a zombie, the highlights of the week were the soccer game and the 2nd grade musical.

Friday I slipped out of class, leaving my charges with another teacher, and joined Jack and Rubliee to watch Bella in the musical about classic rock.  She was a fifties girl with her rolled up jeans and bobby socks, canvas sneakers, white button down shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a scarf in her hair.  She was in the center of the risers, second row - just where we could see her boppin' and swaying with the tunes.

The first day of music practice, Bella came home in a dither because she had a speaking part in the Elton Parsely show.  Me: Elton Parsely?  Bella: Yeah, you know he had a song about shoes made of blue thick leather.  Me:  oooohhh.  Blue Suede Shoes, possibly?  Bella:  yup.

Bell got to be a crazy daisy for the song Tutti Fruit  and then introduced a Surfin' USA.  When it was her turn to be in front of the mic, she just hopped up and belted out her lines, dancing and singing with a grin.  It was so much fun to watch her and all the other itty bitty rockers.  Her school is blessed to have an amazing music teacher.

The whole thing was just joy - I see so much of us in Bella.  She can be a hellion, but she also loves an audience.  It never occurred to her be nervous or to have stage fright.  There was no hesitancy, no pause.  Just performance.  This is my child.  I know most of you don't see this part of me since I didn't do theater, but when I started college, I really wanted to be a professional speech maker.

Watching these kids on stage made me wonder when people began to get stage fright.  Only one of these little kids seemed upset, though a few seemed shy.  It was such a departure from a performance I witnessed in my AP class that morning.  My AP kids are in groups and each group will be teaching a Romantic poet and analysis of three of that poet's works.  The first group went Friday and one boy was just miserable.  It was the whole shaky voice, no eye contact, repeating what had already been said, stumbling over words fiasco.  The rest of group was calm and professional.  I felt sorry for him, though I was fairly sure some of his trouble was a lack of preparedness.

But when we do we learn to fear performing? When does an audience become the enemy instead of a gift letting us shine?  I require my kids to get up and do something, even if it is just explain a sentence, several times a year and it is just terror for many.

I hope my kid never loses the magic dust that let's speaking and holding court for a few moments be fun, a high all of its own.  It is a gift, but it is also a craft to be honed.

Today the merry go round is still in full swing.  We should be out the door to church, but are sneaking away for a surprise trip to Tiger Safari.  Bell missed her field trip there last year thanks to a stomach bug and has been begging to go for a year.  We have told her we are going shoe shopping.  I think this will be a pleasant surprise.  I hope all of your personal merry go rounds have some sweet pauses this week and if you have a chance to shine, you do so spectacularly.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Long Live Romanticism

In my AP Lang class, we have been reading the American Romantics and Transcendentalists and I  keep referring to songs that have the same themes and motifs.  These poor babies just look at me like I am too far gone.

When I told Jack that they knew nothing good (not to belittle their music, but goodness, they need to branch out), we decided to undertake their music education starting now.  Last week I opened by having Pink Floyd's "Time" playing and the lyrics up on the projector when they walked in.  (I am sure their will be lots of revisits to Carpe Diem in the coming weeks.). Pink Floyd?  Five out of twenty had heard of them.  Only two had heard them, actually listened to a song.

Today, we will be reading Emerson's "Self Reliance" and they get to listen to Oingo Boingo's "We Close Our Eyes."  Next week when we sample some Walden, it is Talking Heads and "Flowers."  And then we will talk about irony.   The darkness of anti-transcendentalism will be next and then the gritty realism of the Civil War and new frontiers.  Not sure what music will happen then or when I get on my Kate Chopin feminism kick.  Jack thinks spoken word poetry should be done with Cake.

If there is some vital song that I need bring to their world, by all means, share!

It is unclear if I will be deemed cool or just weird, but I do remember Ann playing some They Might Be Giants in our Joe Campbell class.   Ann was such an amazing teacher - she let me have opinions.   Then she taught me to defend them.

  Ooh, Giants need to go in the list.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Whirl

My life is this weird series of being a single parent weeks divided by learning to be a wife again weeks.  So far it has gone fairly smoothly, perhaps because I remember how hard it was when we did this before.    On and off for our first three years, Jack worked in Guthrie during the week and came home on weekends.  I purely hated it.  We weren't very good at being married yet - I remember thinking that marrying Jack was such a disservice to him, that we surely had to find our footing soon lest we end up miserable.  When he was away, I did my own thing, cooked as I pleased, watched what I wanted.  And when he came home, it was hard to switch into being a partner.  I know I feared him leaving for Guthrie angry so I tiptoed around anything that might displease him.  I loved him doing those rooms in Guthrie, but looking back, it wasn't a good way to begin a life.

This time around, we seem to be on more even ground.  Maybe we learned each other enough that I am confident in us, but when he is home, we slide right back into real life fairly well.  We miss him when he is gone, but I am too busy to fuss.  

I desperately needed fall break and wish I weren't already sucked back into the merry-go-round whirl that is school and home.  So far, as long as I can make it a week, Jack comes home again and I get to share, both the joys and the stress.  He thinks November will be a long month of him being mostly gone - I am already telling myself, "two months until Christmas Break," and then I realize it is only two months until Christmas.  Talk about whirl.

There are plenty of bright spots - and there is plenty of stress.  This is what I read in your blogs, reading that you are trying to find that balance, that way through.  It is supposed to lovely here the next few days - if you can, stop and breathe. Look around and breathe some more.  The whirl will still be there, but draw on those who help you, draw on that strength within.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Anchor

I know that a girl is supposed to be "daddy's girl," and I know when I was
little, I was, but as an adult my mama is probably my best friend.

I love to be with my dad - I can think of a lot of moments that are perfect.  But I get my love of words, cooking, and weird sense of humor from my mom.  It is she who taught me to love James Thurber and how satisfying it can be to make a perfect roux.

Really, mom is that best friend and glue for all of us.  After dinner on Sundays, dad goes outside to work on the farm, but mama sits at the table carrying on several different conversations with her tribe of children and grandchildren until she weaves them all into one.  Dad comes back in for the finish and dessert, but mama has anchored us through the afternoon.

She is in the hospital this week with gallstones and pancreatitis.  And of course this happened when she was searching for a new doctor.  She started out in Duncan, but her condition worsened and Thursday, she was moved to Baptist Integris where there are specialists.  The doctors there were planning on doing an endoscopic surgery yesterday to remove gallstones - they might have been blocking a bile duct, but that did not happen.  As of yesterday, her enzyme numbers were getting better so surgery has been postponed until next week, in hopes that her pancreas can heal a little before the gall bladder is removed.  My mom is also diabetic which always complicates everything.

I don't drive in the city.  This country mouse barely drives  at all.  Yesterday mom was knocked out for tests but might be awake today and I think at least two of siblings are going up.  I will try to meet them in Chickasha and ride up with them.  I saw her Thursday when she was in Duncan's hospital and she seemed so vulnerable.

It has been a long week of worrying for mom- I know we are all thinking of a relative who spent months in the hospital with the same issue and almost died over it. It has been a long week of not being able to call her and hear about her week.   I have missed her emails, book discussions, and political analysis. I think this is the first time since we moved (other than being snowed in at Christmas) that I have felt cut off from the family.

I am reminded this week of how fragile life is and of the strength so many of you must gather up each day, just to keep moving forward.  My circle of friends, you have parents with dementia and Alzheimer's, you have broken bones, you have lost spouses and parents, you have faced cancer and fear and sickness.  Yet, you put on faith, the armor or faith, and walk it out.  You walk out of the darkness and into the sun again and again.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Happy Eleven, Jack Rucker

By now eleven years ago Jack and I had abandoned the family at my folks house and stolen home to our first house with a stash of corn bread salad and cheesecake that we had liberated from the post wedding picnic.  I do not remember if we even had a bottle of wine though something tells me there might have been champagne.

We haven't ever managed to do a good job of celebrating our anniversary.  I recall at least 2 that Jack spent sick.  He worked nights on at least three.  There is always something.

Today began with Jack in Alva, and Bell and I slogging through the rain to a wet soccer field at 8:45 only to discover that I read the schedule wrong and our game was at 10, not 9.  We went to back to the car with our wet selves where Bell promptly dumped an entire 12 oz cup of hot chocolate in her lap in my from seat.  30 minutes we slogged back across the sloppy grounds to field 6.  I had an umbrella  and a raincoat but was soaked to skin by the time our four quarters were spent.  As we walked back up the hill, Bell said that tadpoles could swim in her shoes.  They were that wet.

We changed into dry clothes and managed to get lunch and  a slew of errands ran including getting Bell's eyes checked and groceries bought.

We came home to Jack, laundry going, the typical chaos of his coming in after a week away combined with a chocolate car and groceries to deal with.  I had planned on a picnic of bread, cheese, and wine - typical date night food for us.  Quite unromantically, we had a 7 year old between us  and the movie of the night is Men in Black 3.


You know, that is okay.  I came home to a husband who knows when  I am at the end my rope energy wise.  He knows when I am sad or angry or just overwhelmed.  And whatever it is that day, he rises to the challenge and does what he can to smooth the rest of the day into something I can handle.  He forgives me when I am impatient and tired.  He still thinks I am beautiful.

I came home to a family that we created.  Later in the fall or winter, when he can take a day off, maybe we can go away for a day or two.  Maybe once with Bell and once just us.  But tonight, after a week of single parenting, I will take family night over romance.

Even though I loved the man I married, he has grown to be a far better man, as handsome as ever, but more patient, kinder, and gentle with me and  that blond haired love that lives with us.

We have given each other far more than we dreamed of eleven years ago.  Love is a richer than thing than I imagined.  Happy Eleven, Jack Dear.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Rainy Day Apple Pie

I have been busier than I like lately.  With Jack back at work, I have been poorly juggling home, soccer, school, and family obligations.

One of the balls that got dropped was spending enough time with Harold and Rubilee while Jack is away at work.  He was home most of the weekend, but left again Sunday.  When I went by Monday, Harold was as poorly as I have ever seen him, depressed and drained of energy, still in his pajamas and all but giving up on life.  I stayed a long time visiting, and though he didn't have the energy to visit, just having company seemed to perk him up a bit.

Yesterday he got up and had a normal day, at least as normal as any day is when one is hooked to an oxygen tank.   When I stopped by last night, he was positively chatty, with a pink to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eye.  I stayed a long time again, but this was a fun chat about our favorite old movies and memories of his from being a kid in Grand Saline.

I didn't bring home many papers to grade tonight, not because the grading fairy had come, but because it was soccer night.  As the afternoon crept on in a drizzle and mist, soccer was postponed until tomorrow.  The house was a wee bit cooler and Bella got her homework done without drama or tears or lolly gagging.  Not a bad afternoon at all, especially since there was time to bake.  Harold has a sweet tooth - he will eat any sweet I make that his false teeth can handle - but his favorite is just an old fashioned apple pie. I still had pie crust from the wedding baking last weekend and I had a fresh bag of  honey crisps. I did not have pie pans.  Everyone of them is still at Momma's from the wedding dinner.

I made a sheet of little hand pies, apples peaking from the edges, cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar oozing from their seams.  Bell and I delivered them warm from the oven just as Harold got home.  Today he was still feeling good, still chatty.  This evening's memories were of growing sugar cane and making syrup as a child on his daddy's farm.  I enjoy these visits.  I hope to goodness my cousins are visiting like this with my grandpa, but I fear they don't.

I did not make pie because I had to, but because I could on this rainy day, because there is an old man up on the hill who still has a sweet tooth who might have a good enough appetite to eat dinner if there was a dessert tempting him, because he  shares his stories and his family with me.  Just so many becauses.

Maybe Rubilee let him have it for supper with ice cream while they watched the rain on the lake.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Changes and Busyness Blowing in with the Wind

This week has been at a forced breakneck speed.  From last Thursday until this Thursday, Jack was well and truly at work except for one late night home.  I am so grateful for his return to the working world.  I appreciate the salary, but he needed the ability to work to pull him out of a dark morass he was sinking into.

On the other hand, that meant I was solely in charge here.  His parents didn't need more than checking on (Harold is unwell, but there is nothing I can do), but there seemed to be a never ending list here.  Part of the time went to hauling a kid into soccer practice a few nights.  A lot went to grading papers/creating assignments.  And a fair amount went to building a puppy pen and starting to house train our new friends:  William the Ugly and Sweet Kate.  (No, I am not a royalist, but apparently their previous owner was - and now the names seem stuck).  Kate and Willie are half corgi and half mutt that looked like there might have been a a very short border collie vaguely associated with his past.  And these pups?  Well, Kate has a corgi body and border collie coloring.  Willie, well, he is just a brown wiggly thing that my child likes .

The other time suck this week is a truly happy thing.  My oldest brother, Tucker, is getting married today.  Pedicures, dress shopping, and flower girl stuff for Bell has spread out over the past few weeks.  Today, though, is the day.   There will be the big fancy church wedding and reception, but afterwards, 120 of our family and closest friends will descend on my parents for roasted pig, salads, homemade cheesecakes and pies.  We will have dancing, fireworks, and there is a canon that will be fired.  Last weekend found us at Momma's helping to repot every plant that been growing in my beds and my grandmother's beds.  One night was a marathon night of making pastry crust.  Yesterday, I played hooky from school and went to my mom's to churn out 8 coconut cream pies and help a bit more around the farm.

Last night while we were in the rehearsal, a great rain storm came through.  The rain was blinding and filled the ditches and flooded the roadways in 30 minutes. When rehearsal was over, I left Bell at the front of the church and went to get the car, sprinting through downpour.  As soon as my hair and skin were soaked, it was evident how much I baked as waves of the odors of coconut and buttery pastry crust rolled off me.  By the time we got home, my car smelled like a pastry shop.

Today, we are up early for showers and fancy hairdos and being at a church for hours before the wedding begins.  I am excited to see our family that has traveled in.  I love parties like this one at my parent's house (which is funny since I have never had one of my own) and yes, I love to dress up.

Mostly though, I am so excited and happy for my brother.  He is 30 which is not so old at all, but the past 5 years have not been kind to him romantically.  Well, maybe they were. Maybe all those years of heartbreak were worth it if it meant finding this girl who seems to make him whole.  Last night as I watched Tuck and Lexie walk up the aisle after the rehearsal, the look that they shared was so full of joy and love that it could have powered a city.   This is what weddings are about - the finding of love that gives us the joy and wholeness in life, of finding a best friend to share our bliss with.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Long List Day

My day started a tad bit later than usual - I was headed to the doc for a yearly look over so thought I would sleep until six and forget the makeup routine.

I might have squeezed in an extra fifteen minutes of sleep, but I am just done in now that the day is over and done.

It was the sort of day that allowed for getting Walmart done before 9 and beating crowds, but it was also the sort of that meant I did not find the right hair pins for Bell for her flower girl bit next week at Tuck's wedding . . . Even though I looked in multiple places.  On the up side. I did snag a pair of half price jeans from Maurice's and the doc thought I was pretty healthy, though I am going back in a month to do a little bloodwork to see if we can figure out why my hormones are so erratic these days.  It will be one of those fasting things so I will go n fall break instead of miss more school.

I went to get a damaged toenail repaired and came away with a full manicure and pedicure - that was a bit odd for me.  I have never had my nails done - wish I hadn't let it happen now.  They are a bloody  nuisance.  Not sure how I am going to keep them looking nice for a whole 9 days.  However, the foot business was sublime.  I now understand why people do this, though I won't be joining the line of people at Walmart.  I liked the quiet of the little salon I found, and there weren't people gawking at me as they pushed their carts of groceries and whiny children past.

I managed to squeeze in a visit to my dear friend Di. When Di quit teaching at Comanche, it felt like someone cut my arm off.  It had been a long while since I had found a friend like her.  Never mind that she is old enough to be retired and has grown grandchildren.  Di and I just hit it off from the beginning.  Today was a quick visit, but I think we both needed it.  There is a peace and a bit of life we walk away with after we have spent time with the sort friends that feed our souls.  Some people do just whittle away at our being, but Di blesses.


Monday, September 2, 2013

Dog Days Gardener

In January when the seeds are dropped into flats by stiff, frozen fingers, I am just thinking about shoots of Kelly green, of tidy rows, and maybe imagination runs as far as the first bite of summer salsa.

My thoughts never get to the dog days, when it is hot and still, Mosquitos are out in droves, and I am too busy with school to give the garden more than a passing glance.

I kept my garden in fairly good shape all summer.  The raised bed meant that my weeding was at a minimum except in the new area that was carved out as the asparagus bed.  That was a ton of weeding all summer, but I kept it looking good.

Notice the past tense of that "kept" . . . things have gone wild now.  I think it started when a wind storm blew my tomato cages over a month ago . . . Or maybe when my leg was hurt and I didn't more than make sure  the sprinkler got turned on.  Whenever, whatever, my attention shifted to getting by and school and the garden might have been neglected a wee, bitty bit.  The kind of wee, bitty bit where I didn't train the pumpkin vines to go down the hill instead of up the hill and into my tomato cages.  The kind of wee, bitty bit where weeds grow from the hay bales making the raised bed and hide the peppers.  And that asparagus bed?  It is so overgrown with pumpkins and weeds that I only vaguely know where it used to be.

The upside is that I still have plenty of tomatoes and there are 6 pumpkins out there that are bigger than basketballs.

I have a Mt. Everest stack of school work to do today, but I think I am going to take my garden gloves with me when I go water in bit.  Some therapeutic weeding is in order.

_________
 And four hours later, I not only watered and weeded, but also potted most of the flowers in my beds to take to my momma to use for wedding dinner decorations.  My beds look sad and ravaged now, but those flowers would have only lasted another month or so.  Now mom will have pots for the porches and tables, pots spilling over with coleus, sweet potato vines, vincas, four o'clocks, and every other pretty thing I grew.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Difference

I slept until 7 this morning.  I don't think that has happened since the morning after I got stitches.  Sleep is a powerful drug.  I went to bed feeling overwhelmed with the sheer mountain of things that needed to be done today.  I woke up with the mountain waiting, but without the dread.  Such a difference..

Rubilee commented last night that at least I could kick back and relax this weekend.  My reply was that I brought home 20 hours of work and  had plenty of big jobs around the place to do.  I was serious when I said twenty hours.  I have several assignments and projects I need to build from scratch plus papers to grade and get into the computer.  I keep having other great ideas of things I want to try, but just don't have the time to get them off the ground.

Sleep, though, as I said is a powerful thing.  I woke up with some strategies clicking together in my brain.  The first one was to have a bit of me time with coffee and the iPad.  I had thought to sit on the back porch, but a zipper spider has been building this cotton-candy sticky web out there and I just don't have the heart to take my chair from her.  Those webs are just so pretty with dew drops catching the sunlight.  I don't want to bump it and make them shatter into nothingness.

I  will have to power up quickly though.  I need to fetch a kitten from a tree where a bad cat has her  treed.  It should be noted that said kitten is only outside in the tree because she jumps on my head n the night.  The garden hasn't been watered for a few days and is parched.  It is a typical Saturday chore list.

Perhaps Jack will be home tomorrow to help, but he will likely be sleeping if he is home.  He officially went back to work Thursday evening and has been on one job site since then.  His crew has been power washing Frac trucks and sleeping in the truck when they can.  He called last night and sounded pretty tired.  His bad leg is not used to lugging around a steel toed boot.  He said he was sore, but it was just muscle sore from having lost so much muscle tone when he was down.

The past week has brought huge amounts of progress.  10 days ago he couldn't wear a shoe or sleep in a bed.  Now he can do both and go to work too.  He still limps and goes slowly at things, but he GOES. He has been to church and even Walmart.  Again, such a difference from the man who couldn't move with shrieking 6 weeks ago.

So many people have prayed for us.  Jack's bosses held his job for him and have been patient. Harold's handy man has kept my yard from going wild.   So the weekend has such a big list of to - do's that I probably won't make a dent in them, but I am thankful to have a husband who can go to work.  I am thankful for a garden to work in.  I am just thankful for the blessings that have come our way, even that pretty spider to watch this morning.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Sunshine at Last

Things seem to be looking up at our house this week.  Never mind that I am pinching pennies to stretch this month's pay check to cover an extra few weeks and a ton of doctor bills.  I am a little stressed, but not worrying about it that much.

Jack has been moving around a lot this  week - not every day and I know he had one bad day, but a definite upswing in mood and activity.  Yesterday he got a little feeling in his toes for the first time in over a month.  He still can't feel most of his foot, but every day seems a bit improved.

Here is the best news:  he had a consultation with a physical therapist today who thinks he surely doesn't need surgery.  He thought he probably needs to see see Jack a couple of times a week for the next few weeks to help Jack regain his strength and teach those nerves to work again.  He did say that Jack may be looking at a very long time before he had 100% feeling back, but Jack thinks he might be able to go back to work in a week or two.  The main thing is for Jack to not re-injure the disc and nerve while he is healing.


I have cried and prayed and begged God that he help us and Jack.  I know we aren't out of the woods yet.  Jack still has to manage sleeping in bed and wearing a shoe and standing all day, but I feel that mercy and healing is happening.  I am so very thankful.

Lesson to you all:  if you hurt your back and have nerve damage, ICE,ICE, ICE.  And avoid the chiropractor.  Jack used heat for a few days while I was at that AP conference, and between the chiropractor and heat did more damage. Hindsight.

I feel like I am in a little more of a controlled chaos mode now rather than full blown, monkeys swinging from the chandelier chaos.  The dismissal bell rang today with me having not a single paper to grade.  (I will have a new stack tomorrow, so it is a short lived victory).  My classes seemed to learn a lot this week.  My AP class is joy - just a burst of enthusiasm and fun and smarts floating through my room mid-morning.

At home, Harold's handyman came to mow my jungle.  Turns out there was a driveway lurking in there.  I got the tomatoes and pumpkins  fertilized and have held the army bugs at bay once again.  I even managed to feed my family well this week, or at least the non-picky, picky members.

Tomorrow is happy Friday.   I am thinking Cindy is right.  It will be Thankful Friday at this house.


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Hey, Teach

First day.  Those are loaded words.  Excitement. Dread.  Chaos.  Fear.  Noise.  Stress.

So much depends on the first day - the kids have impressions to make on their peers and teachers, but we have impressions to make too.  We have to lay down the law and get our bluff in, but we also have to make it clear that we are there to teach and help, not just dictate and talk at them.

Today was a good first day, so much better than the tidal wave that swept me away last year.  It just sucks to be the new kid.  All those new faces and policies and procedures.  This year felt good. I could greet kids by name as we began the morning.  I was excited to see my compatriots.


I must have scared a few kids at least - there were drops to sign by the time I finished telling them how much their brains would hurt if they stayed in AP.  Did you catch that?  Yep, I am so excited about this AP Lang and Comp class.  A bit intimidated, but jazzed just the same.

Other kids warmed my heart when they just confidently nodded when I assured them that we would cover a 30 page chapter on rhetoric tomorrow.

Two seniors even volunteered to be my aides.  One of them lectured my juniors on how much he hated my class last year until he figured out (thanks to his ACT score) that he learned more in my room than anywhere else last year.  He pretty much painted me as the wicked witch of English that they would grow to love.  I don't have to have their approval, but I do need them to believe in me and buy what I am selling; however, I won't complain about being liked.

I hope all our  new teachers had a good beginning. I remember how hard that was last year.  I don't think I realized how hard it was until today went so well.  Bella's day went well too.  When asked about her teacher, she told someone in my building that her teacher was beautiful, much more than last year's teacher.  (For the record, Bell and I both really liked last year's teacher, though she was more the Grandma type as opposed to the 20 something fresh out of college teacher for this year.)

So, the first day.   It is the beginning of our season of business, late nights grading, grouchy mornings, hurried coffee, homework,.  Good to be an Owl.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

These Women Who Make Me Laugh

Things are still pretty blegh here.  Jack had his MRI and the doc wants him to see a surgeon.  We are waiting for them to call with an appointment.  Limbo.  Never ending limbo in which Jack still can't feel his leg and sleeps in the recliner and his level of crabbiness signals the amount of pain he is in.

But things aren't all blegh, largely to the circle of women I have come to love here.  These women are strong, smart, and funny .  .  . And they let me be one of the cool kids with them.

Last week one of the ringleaders organized a wine and canvas night at an art studio/store in Lawton.  Over  the summer we have lounged by the pool, went for dinner, had movie nights - we always have a good time what ever it is.  We talk and laugh.  We talk about the serious and the ludicrous.  Nothing is taboo.  Perhaps the conversation is about someone's grandma with Alzheimer's . . . or maybe it is about quiche.  Doesn't matter.  The good and the bad, it's all there.

This time was different - not only did we have the therapy of laughter and  fellowship, but we had art.  The more we painted our crazy, beautiful owls, the quieter we got, drawn into the swirls of color on our canvases.  We had a little wine, a bit of fruit and cheese, some laughter . . . And something new.  We saw a creativity in ourselves that was refreshing.  I think we needed that therapy of laughter blended with quiet creativity.  We are beginning another 9 months of hard work and that night was a boost.

These women.  I am sure we don't all see eye to eye on religion or politics, but we have a common ground.  There is respect and admiration in my heart. I watch them raise children and love their husbands, teach their hearts out, walk in their faith, live gracefully through serious trials.  They know how to be women.





Saturday, August 3, 2013

Updates

I haven't been on Facebook much or even blogged lately because we are just stuck in limbo.

Yes, depression is becoming a real tangible thing in this house as we end week 4 of Jack not being well.

Last time I wrote here, Jack was scheduled to have an MRI which never happened.  Turns out it was one of the closed tube-like MRI machines and he just got too panicky.  They at least gave my money back.  It has been over a week since then and Jack is no longer in any real pain.  His back aches, though it has off and on for the past year with bouts of sleeping in the recliner for the past several years.  Even though the pain has subsided, he still can't feel his foot and lower leg.  Some feeling has returned to parts of his hip and upper leg, but no driving yet.  He can't stand more than a few minutes.

He has finally decided that Monday he will call and see if he can reschedule the MRI at a different facility that has an open machine . . . And get a prescription for some sort of happy drug that will keep him from going nuts again.  He still doesn't think there is anything anyone  can do for him, though he would do physical therapy if it would help.  He mostly wants to rule out any thing worse than a pinched nerve or herniated disc lurking there.  Even the idea that there could be something scary lurking . . .

In the meantime, we just seem to exist in this holding pattern.  Jack gets up as often as he can just to try to move, but he can't do anything.  I hold down the fort here and make sure things are okay up the hill at Rubilee's.  My friend Suzanne intervened last week and took Bell for a day and a night.  Bless her heart.  My father -in-law sent his hired guy down to mow.  I am past the 9 day mark when I should have gotten my stitches out, but my leg is finally starting to close up and it finally doesn't hurt much to walk so maybe next week I will get those stitches out.  Bell and I got our school shopping done and we will get her enrolled for second grade this week.  I am in a battle with squash bugs over who will the pumpkin patch. Progress is slowly being made for my AP class preparations.

I know many of you have been, but keep praying that Jack have healing.  He is improving, but is so painfully slow and he is needed.  We need him well and his boss does too. Jack needs himself well.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Gray Days

Fair warning - this is not a nice entry.  It is awful.

Monday came and Jack was doing a little better.  He still couldn't feel his leg, but could actually move his toes.  However, on the off chance that he didn't keep improving, I got him in to see our doctor before she was off on vacation.  He came home with orders to get an MRI on Thursday, though since he can't lay flat, I am not sure how that will work.  He was able to walk a little better - gone was the Fred Sanford lurch and I was hopeful he would be back at work in a few days.

And then everything fell apart.  Monday evening, I got in the car to go check on my in-laws.  I usually walk, but I had some things that I had picked up at the store for Rubilee.  As I inched down the driveway watching for the dog, I felt a bump and heard a yelp.  Avery had dashed between my front and back tire and I got her.  I jumped out to see how bad it was, hoping for a boken paw and hoping to not have to get the pistol.  I could hear her yelping and when I rounded the back of the car, she lunged for me, latching on to my leg.  Once I got free I sprinted to the house for help.  She was too in pain and scared for me to examine.  Jack went down and decided that she might be fixable but thought that I first had to have stitches so we went to the ER.  I will skip the details at the ER, but by 1 AM, I had several stitches in my calf and we had moved Avery to the house and fairly comfortable.

Yesterday, we got Ave to the vet.  We were hopeful that it would be damage that we could realistically fix, but also knew that we would likely have to put her down.  X Rays revealed too much bad news and we had to say goodbye.  Too make matters worse, since she only got her shots a month ago, she will have to be tested for Rabies.

I know Ave was supposed to be Bell's dog, but we all were attached.  She was sweet about spreading her cuddle time out with all of us.  She might have been was sweetest, most playful dog I have ever had.  Obviously, I feel a tremendous amount of guilt.

Today finds us broken hearted.  Helping me with Ave and taking me to the ER meant he was on his feet too much, and   Jack undid the progress he had made with his leg.  He spent yeaterdy in pain thanks to me.   I am limping around with orders to not work out for a few weeks or be up too much to keep this cut from proofing out and not healing nicely.  This spells disaster for my fitting in a dress at Tuck's wedding.  In spite of the stitches, there is still bleeding and I can't get comfortable to sleep much.

I know there will be other puppies.  I know my leg will heal and so will Jack's.  I am thankful for the rain - it meant I didn't have to drag the hose around for an hour this morning, but rain is also just  soothing to my soul.  Despite the rain, I still feel a bit gray inside.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

How to Pick a Berry

Berry picking is not a task to be taken lightly.

1.  Wear lots of clothes - you  are sure to be hot and sweaty, but should wear boots, jeans, gloves, and the heaviest shirt possible.  Not heavy as in a sweatshirt, but something that will resist snags and pokes of thorns.  Put on Off unless you live in a magical land without chiggers.

2.  Take a hoe - it's good for knocking spider webs away, poking around in front of  you on the ground to find snakes before you step on them, and to snag vines that are just out of reach and pull them to you

3.  Do not take people with you unless they are good at silence or are good conversationalists

4. Do not let small dogs who are afraid of losing sight of you go - they whine too much

5.  No cell phones or iPods - this is quiet time to listen to the birds and God.  Anyway, if you lose that phone in the berry patch, it may be gone forever.

6.  Plan on coming home with fingers stained purple, stained so deeply that they will look dirty for a few days yet.

7.  Plan on taste testing, right there in the patch, up to your eyeballs in brambles and thorns

8. When you get home, you will already be hot and dirty, so you might as well water and pick the garden before coming in.

9. Pie is in order.


Thursday, July 18, 2013

Berry Picking in the Rain

Right after the 4th, I went berry picking on the dam of the lake and came home with perhaps two cups of blackberries.  The bushes were covered in red berries and I promised my self that as soon as I came home from the Advanced Placement Summer Institute, I would go back and hope the birds and coons didn't clean out the patch while I was gone.

And then there was the AP institute.  Oh. My.  It has been years since I felt that stupid and uneducated.  Words like "anaphora" and "synecdoche" floated glibly off teachers tongues as they discussed passage analysis while I scrambled through the dictionary on my iPad trying madly to keep up.  The difference in argument and persuasion.  Making a 9 rather than a 5.  Style and voice.  At one point we did 10 multiple choice q's over a passage.  I was guessing.  I was praying I got at least half of them right and that no one called on me.  I actually got 8 right, but couldn't have explained to a kid why I knew they were right.  They just felt that way, just instinct.  It was so relieving when Jo Perriman, who has a masters, said in frustration "I can't do this."  It was permission for me to struggle.  I came home still totally unprepared to teach this class.  I left USAO feeling confident to teach lit analysis . . . I can better handle theme and all that.  I will be teaching language and comp, not lit. Not my comfort zone.

I have a lot of work to do in the next few weeks to get ready for this and my eye has started twitching.

I came home to a husband who couldn't even get off the couch to pee so was choosing to not drink anything.  Two days before I went to AP, Jack fell and did something to his back.  The first day he was stiff and sore but took some anti-inflammatories of mine.  He managed to function fairly well for about 4 days.  Then he ran out of the pills and locked up.  I came home to a husband who couldn't function, a wild child, and a trashed house.  I got him more meds and got him to the chiropractor. The doc said it could be as bad as a ruptured disc or as simple as a torn muscle and definitely a pinched nerve.   He is a little better - the screaming and moaning has stopped when he moves, but his right leg and foot are numb so driving is tricky . . . Which means he can't work.  He doesn't have insurance yet, though if he goes back to work, he can start that process.  In the meantime, our chiropractor says a regular doc would have the same "wait and let it heal" approach.  Jack goes back to the chiropractor tomorrow.  I am getting worried - I really thought he would be better by now and I don't know how long his job will wait on him.  In the meantime, I have asked our church body to pray for healing.  He woke today with less pain and a better mood so maybe it is progress.

Can you tell I am a little stressed?  Depressed?  Bordering on panic?  I feel like I am swamped with things I need to do here on the place before school starts - both academics and house projects.  My janky hand is slowing me down, but that is a whole different problem to be addressed some other time.

Back to the berries.  Tuesday morning came drizzly, cool, and gray.  I pulled on my old rubber boots, the ones with the top bitten off by a former dog, grabbed my bucket and headed down the hill.  I really expected the berries to be gone - it had been too long since I had been down there.  The bushes were covered in berries, both red and black.  I came home with only a gallon, but there were lots of red ones so I will check again in a few days.  With these cool, wet days, maybe they won't have shriveled on the canes.

While I picked, Avery kept me company.  It rained a little more, plastering Jack's last Navy work shirt to my back.  I continued to pick.  I pondered Malthusian theory from PEST class because I am reading Dante's Inferno.  I thought about some poetry I had read and a David Sedaris piece I wanted to re-read.  I wondered what other farmers and country folk thought about while they worked.  Did they contemplate international relations with Egypt and try to remember all the words to "She Walks in Beauty"? It was beyond peaceful.  There were fish splashing and frogs hopping, much to Avery's delight.  The rain was misty and cool on my face.  The black berry thorns were vicious. My eye didn't twitch and I didn't worry about whether or not my hand would allow me to scrub the shower.    I am still convinced I belong there on the farm, all day and every day.  It seems to sit well with my soul.

Today, I will putter in my wild patch of tomatoes a bit today and take Bell to the pool.  I will finish mowing the yard.  I will make something for the church bake sale.

There is surely a patron saint of English teachers with gimpy husbands who can lend me a hand until I can get back to the berries and some sanity.




Thursday, July 4, 2013

Fireworks, Friends, Grandpas, and Seizing the Day

Sometimes our children are wiser than we think. And sometimes it just makes me cry.

A week ago, friends of ours from school had invited us over for dinner and to watch the Fletcher Fireworks show from their back yard.  Suzanne even invited my in-laws.  Bell was excited because she loves to play with their son.  I was looking forward to good company.

But then the evening began to unravel.  Jack will be off next week while I get to go to an Advanced Placement Summer Institute so that I can teach my very first AP class in the fall.  That means that he ended up being on multiple jobs starting yesterday and running through Friday or Saturday.  No 4th of July for him.  We will be lucky if he even calls home today.

Then last night when we went to check in my in-laws, Harold asked if Isabella was big enough to ride in his truck without her booster seat.  When I asked why, he said he thought she might like to go with him to Cyril to watch the fireworks.  He knew that we were going to Suanne's, but had forgotten.  Rubilee piped up that we already had plans and he looked like a puppy someone had kicked.

When we got home, Bell and I talked about it over evening chores.  She pointed out that this may be a one time opportunity to go with Grandpa.  He will be 87 next month and honestly, every winter he is worse and we think it is the last.  He has never felt well enough to ask her to go with him anywhere before either, but he felt well yesterday.

I pointed out that she might never go Suzanne's house on the 4th again either.  Isabella agreed that it might be true and I left the decision up to her.  She was really quiet.  I could hear the scales in her mind weighing burgers, ice cream, her friend, and a nice show against sitting in Grandpa's truck watching a small show from the shop.  Her answer:  "Mom,  I should spend it with Grandpa.  He is my only Grandpa Harold and there really might not be a next year for this."

And with that we just hope our friends understand and forgive our rudeness of not showing up, especially after I said I would bring salsa.  We hope our friends and family everywhere spend this holiday appreciating the ones they love and remembering the sacrifices made so we can live in a place where we can make the choices that matter to our hearts.  Happy 4th of July from us here on the hill.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Sunrise

At 4:15 this morning, when the coyotes got the house menagerie stirred up into barking and whining and hissing, I decided that Misti Pryor is right.  I need a vacation from vacation, but  I don't think it will be happening this year.  In only the first three days of this week we spent a day with grandparents, a day with friends at their pool, and yesterday was Medicine Park and the Witchtas, getting Avery spayed, and picking blackberries.

Poor Avery has a small bladder and is still in house training mode so I normally just get up with her around 5:30, but this morning when she needed at out after the coyote alarm, I thought I might just go back to sleep.  First I had to remove a kitten from my bed and by the time I got settled, Jack said, "You know, my alarm is going to go off in 30 minutes."  And that was the end of sleep.

I am so painfully tired that I can't think, even though I did  have some coffee with the sunrise.  When I first could see the lake this morning, I could tell it was another one of those mist shrouded sunrises over the water.   The water is warm - last night I stood in the edge to pick berries I couldn't reach from shore, but this wonderful cool morning air makes a foggy mist hover over the water.   At first, it was too dark to see the ripples of the fish and turtles or the reflection of trees, but when I finished my first cup of coffee, I grabbed my camera, bathrobe and flip flops.  I started in the yard, but found my self drifting across the pasture catching the sun as it rose higher above the water, until I was at Rubilee's yard.  She brought her coffee out to join me and we talked flowers and kids and animals for a bit before I drifted back to my own house to feed my tribe.

I am not sure what all today brings.  The day after Huxley went to his new home, a dumped half-grown puppy showed up, emaciated and runny eyed.  We must have had a neon sign flashing "vacancy - dump your pet here."  We can't keep him - I have committed to having 4 cats and one dog spayed and vaccinated already this summer.  Anyway, he would be another trip hazard for Rubilee.  I have called and called the guy at the Elgin Animal Rescue but can't through.  I am waiting to hear if a place in Carnegie can get this little guy a space with a vet.  Limbo.

Today, I might drop the dog off somewhere.  I might get a nap.  I ought to go buy shoes with Bell and visit the grands while they are down at my folks . . .  if I am awake enough to drive that far.  I at least won't  be cooking for a few days since Jack went back out today.  Perhaps we won't go anywhere at all and I will sleep in the sun and even out this tan.  Whatever the day brings, it was certainly a gorgeous start.



Friday, June 28, 2013

Highs and Lows

This week has been a little crazy, maybe a lot crazy.  Some of it is good and right and I am giddy about it.  Some of it makes me tear up.

On the family front, we began the week by going to Amy's wedding.  I am always a bit teary at weddings, but this one was magical.  I was so happy watching them be happy and felt so blessed that they let us come and watch those moments.  My own family began being sucked into the mad ride of wedding preparations this week as things begin to move forward for my brother's wedding.  Bell was presented with a flower girl dress and there is much talk of the where and when and how when I am at my folks.  Sometime this weekend, I should probably take Bell shoe shopping while there are still white dress shoes to be had.  By the time September gets here I will be plotting days off to help with the doings.

On the home and animal front things aren't so giddy.  At the beginning of the week, it became apparent that our dog Huxley was not co-existing peacefully with my in-laws.  Let me go back a step and say that I have always felt that when we take an animal, it is ours.  We have never dumped a pet. We have never given one away except for the offspring of strays who show up pregnant.  We don't leave them at the Humane Society.  Our pets aren't spoiled with a seat at the table, but they are ours and taken care of.  But now we are sending Huxley away.

He was dumped a year and a half ago and we kept him.  Sometimes he is infuriating when he barks in the night or rolls in maure for third day in a row.  But he is still ours, with his own bed in our room and his own stuffed animal.  Rubilee is getting to be unsteady on her feet and she is still trying to stay active and at least check her flowers and water them herself.  Hux gets to playing and rolls into her.  He doesn't mind her and is too rowdy.  She is afraid of his antics and it makes her nervous.  If she falls, at 84, well . . . I see broken hips and an end to this current fragile existence she and Harold have carved out.  I can't be here 24 hours a day and I can't lock the dog in a cage.  I can't stomach the thought of her being hurt either, so he is going to live with Jack's nephew's in-laws.  They want him, even after being told of his faults and they are animal lovers.  I feel irresponsible and traitorous.  I feel guilty, but I can't choose an animal over a person's well-being.  Maybe this new home will be a better match for Hux.  Maybe.  Maybe.

I don't know what the new week will bring.  Hux's new owners will come for him tomorrow.  Jack is going away for a few days to work.  Rubilee is not feeling well.  The grasshoppers and chiggers refuse to be defeated.  Shoe shopping needs to happen. It promises to be another full week.



Sunday, June 23, 2013

Country Mouse

It is a slow morning on our little hill this morning.  We have lots going in the afternoon, but this morning is quiet.  We both slept well, despite a dog who barked in the night, a kitten who cooed like a pigeon in our ears, and those vague worries when our child is not home but sleeping at Grandma's.

Today and yesterday started off cool and I had my coffee on the porch.  Yesterday, I watched the sun rise over the lake.  Today, I was a little slower in getting up and settled for communing with a busy woodpecker.  I knew the cool would be fleeting, so yard work followed.

I have been thinking of city people and country people lately.  Most of my town friends don't need three hours on a riding lawn mower and an hour with a push mower to get their yard mowed.  It doesn't take an hour just to water raised beds and baby trees.  They don't drive thirty minutes to get a loaf  of bread or forty five to find a Walmart.  Their dogs don't routinely show up covered in horse manure or dead animals.  Sound like a hassle?  Yeah, maybe.

  But I also have country friends who, like me, wouldn't trade this life for a big fancy house in town.  We like watching the sunrise over our pastures and lakes.  We like being able to be free from constraints.  If we wanted to shoot a gun or lie in the sun naked, we could.  We can go to the back door at ten at night and holler for the dogs, knowing we aren't bothering anyone.  If we waste our well water on trees, well, it was our well water and who cares if it wasn't an even numbered day.  We even like mowing and watering before 8 in the morning.  There is just something sublime about early mornings in the country.

Today will be busy.  We have a wedding to attend and a child to collect.  I am sure there are plenty of chores still to do, but for now . . . A little more coffee will do.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Joyful Father

When I was first pregnant with Bell, I couldn't believe how excited Jack was.  My excitement was mixed with trepidation, but Jack just seemed so pleased.  I had worried that he would be displeased, but he just bounced when he walked.  He spent his evenings rubbing my belly and reading to us or singing to her.

When Bell was born, Jack bonded with her first.  She was a c-section baby and I was just so groggy for so long.  The first night he couldn't see her breathe in the bassinet, so he put her on his chest and that is how they slept the first few nights.

Things haven't changed much.  She is a daddy's girl if there ever was one.  If she has a bad dream, she is snugged up with him the rest of the night.  If she has a scrape, he is the doc.  If she needs a sounding board for a new somg, he is the first audience.  Whether she needs a comforter or an exploring buddy, he is it.

Jack is an amazing father. I watch the way he loves our child, whether it is indulging a whim or whether it is firmly holding her accountable for her behavior, and I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving.   So many parents see their children as an inconvenience, but not him.  He is a joyful father.

Right now he is also a tired father who seems to be asleep because he worked far into the night or he is off on a job.  Friday was his day home.  Instead of doing his own thing and even though he had worked until 2:30 in the morning, he took us to the pool because a little girl had been waiting all week to show him her skill on the diving board.  Yesterday, he headed out for  his 4 days away.  I know he would much rather play the role of starving artist or work in a theater for little pay, but he knows that little girls are expensive, from their health insurance down to their predilection to nice shoes and owning a tribe of animals.

 I am thankful that I have a husband who cares enough about our stability to take a job that really isn't his dream job and that takes him from home so much. There have been other seasons of our lives when the right choice for the time was to take a low paying job to be able to be home more.  I am thankful that he tries to adapt to what we need most at the time.

Jack Dear gives so much of himself to us - even though he won't be around or even see this post for a few days, I know I am blessed in having him for my parter in life and father of my child.  I cannot ask for more than this kind, loving, passionate, and faithful man that we have.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Slow, Soft Morning of Just Us

Normally, Sunday mornings find us on our way to church and then sometimes on our way to my family's house for lunch and visiting.

Not so this week.  I really, really hate to miss church.  More so than usual, I find a need to be there and soak up the Word and the encouragement that comes with joining with our body of believers.  However, we needed some family time.  Last week Jack was sick all week and still managed to work some and then we had my sister's graduation thing.  This week, Jack worked days the first half of the week in Duncan so he was home at night, but then he was totally gone the last part of the week.  Bell does fine when he is only gone one night, but this time it almost three days and she was sure missing her poppa. I might have missed him a little too.  Okay, there is no "might" to it.  Who knows if this will be his only day off so we are going to just be home bodies today, puttering and enjoying each other.

I have some outside projects planned, namely getting the big mower going and hauling off some junk out of the shed, both of which require Jack Dear's help.  I am going to try my hand at homemade pasta this morning.  My KA stand mixer came with a rebate for a free pasta roller and cutter which arrived Thursday and it is just begging to be tried out.  All of my Saxon phonics books arrived yesterday and I need to figure out what parts of it we can/should get done this summer.  I really need to do some reading of my own for a workshop I will go to in a month.

For now, before the chores start, I feel soft and slow.  It was a clean sheet, curl up together sort of beginning with good coffe and conversation while we let Bell sleep in.  Avery the pup is giving a stuffed mouse a working over and the cat is being bossy.  There is even homemade cheese and cherry Danish for breakfast.  We don't get these sorts of mornings often and we mean to enjoy this one.

Enjoy your Sunday - spend it well.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Cicadas? No Thanks, We Already Have Grasshoppers

Farming and gardening is such a gamble.  It's all about the weather and bugs.  Either we have too late of a frost or not enough rain.  There are not enough bees or we are being devoured by some pestilence.

Yes, I said pestilence and it feels Biblical in size.  We are being devoured by grasshoppers.  Last week we began seeing the tiniest grasshoppers I have ever seen.  Every step we take through the yard is preceded by a veritable wave of half-inch long grasshoppers.  This creates a disgusting problem for sandal and flip flop wearers.  I do not like having sticky hopper glue between my shoe and me, and right now it is a reality every time we go out.  I have taken to wearing tennis shoes or walking in a strange, stiff gait that keeps my foot pressed against my flip flop at all times.

When we came home from my mom's Sunday, I discovered that in one day they had eaten in entirety five feet each of lettuce, kale, spinach, and carrots, 5 peppers, three squash, and a row of sunflowers.  There was serious damage to the hollyhocks, tomatoes, and beans.  They had just found the flowers and some of the tiger lillies had so many bugs that the plants were invisible.

Organic gardeners, this is where you stop reading.  I put on the old clothes and mixed up seven spray.  I cut the broccoli that was ready and the little bit of greens still there.  This was beyond any nice measure I had.  Either I got out the big guns or there would be no garden at all, so after I gathered what was ready to eat, I sprayed. I sprayed the baby trees, the flowers, the garden, the asparagus - it all was being attacked.  It just is awful to spray this stuff on my garden, but it was the choice I made.

I hope the rain last night and tonight will drown the little buggers.  In the meantime, I ended the day on a hopeful note.  The green beans are too far gone to make so I planted pumpkins in their patch.

Janky Old Hand

This is not my usual post at all, but it is the thing that concumed my morning.  A lot of you know I have been dealing with carpal tunnel like symptoms in my right hand for the past year.  After wearing a brace and trying steroid shots in my wrist, I finally saw a surgeon this spring.  He sent me to have the nerves in my hand and arm mapped last week and then this morning I went back to consult with the surgeon.


I do not in fact have carpal tunnel, at least not according to the nerve mapping, unless it is such an early and mild case that it is not showing up on the test.  That sounds good, right?  Instead, I have a nerve  that is pinched at my ulna.  This is a little more complicated than the wrist thing.  The pain in my wrist may or may not be related, but certainly all the numbness is.  The surgeon felt like dealing with the elbow would most likely also fix the ache in my wrist.

My options were to do nothing, try an oral steroid and prescription strength anti-inflammatory, or open up my elbow and move the nerve over.

Obviously, do nothing is the cheap route, but I am not sure how often I am going to get Jack to scrub the shower for me . . . or truly how much I want to keep writing and typing and driving with a numb hand.

The surgery option is expensive and it means wearing a cast afterward for a few weeks and making Jack take a day off work,  not to mention the joy of surgery and moving a nerve.

So, that leaves us with meds, which I will go the pharmacy to pick up today.  I am also going to do a stretch that might help open up the area around my ulna.  Most of all, I think I am praying  for healing.   Our God is mighty and merciful and I believe that he can heal all things.  I know this is an inconvenience and nothing more.  It certainly is not a tragedy, but I think we are allowed to ask for help in the small trials as well as the big ones.

Anyway, I am going to pray, stretch, and get some medications and then go back to the doc in a few weeks to consult again.