A Girl and Her Pup

For over a year Bell has been asking for a puppy.  I am not at all sure she is ready for one, but every girl should have a dog.

We have Huxley, but he came to as an adult who had been dumped at my brother's house.  He never became Bell's dog, instead connecting more to Jack and me.  Of course there is also Princess Buttercup the cat, but cats are for curling up with and playing with in the house.  They are not so good at being a partner for exploring the woods or swimming in the lake.  Oh, and there is Luna, the stray cat that showed up last month . . . and the three gold fish.  Yes, yes, I know.  We are probably at maximum capacity.   Don't tell Jack, but I really want chickens too.  Maybe next year.

I have been casually looking for a puppy for a few weeks now, but Friday we actually went to the humane society.  There were some great dogs, but maybe not the right dogs for us, though a little 6 week old terrier was sure a sweetie.  But well, he was sooo tiny. Not nearly ready to be a playmate or house trained or left outside when we go to town.

We ended up bringing home a little girl of undetermined age, maybe 6, maybe 10 months old.  She looks like a corgi-jack russel and had been dumped at a friend's house.  So far we have had a good beginning.  Only a few accidents, and all within the first 12 hours.  She is quite the fetcher and bone chewer, but is just a sweetheart.  She is cuddled up to anyone sitting and is the shadow of anyone outside, but already seems to know she is Bell's girl.  She had a rough first night and we think she has some worm issues.  I ended up on the couch with her because she was too fretful to be in Bell's room.    Yesterday morning found me at Tractor Supply waiting for the doors to open so we could get dewormer.  Last night was quiet and we all slept.  She was afraid of Bell's crazy high bed so ended up sleeping with Huxley.  He was a good big brother, curling up around her.

taking a nap while being de-ticked

No name as of yet, but pretty sure this girl is going to be a good fit for this crazy house.  As I type, they are playing tug of war all over the house.  Crazy indeed.

Rucker, You're Not Half Bad

Believe it or not, not all my students loved me at the beginning of the year.  They are shocked that this does not phase me.  I tell them that I made peace with not being loved years ago.

They tell me this now as if it is some big secret they have been keeping all year.  But they have also started saying, "We really didn't like you, but Mrs. Rucker, you're not half bad."  Believe me, this is high praise from this tough crowd.

I am not sure when they realized that I was not the enemy, but I think that EOI tests actually were in my favor.  Apparently, they felt confident on those tests and liked the feeling.

Yesterday, I had a note on my desk from one of my more challenging students.  She thanked me for stubbornly getting her to do the work when she stubbornly avoided it.  She said I "out-stubborned" her.  High praise, I tell you.  I have had several comments and they are all over the map. Apparently I earned my approval by getting them to read Gatsby.  They also loved the lesson we did on "Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin.  Some kids have said, with a note of surprise, "We ACTUALLY learned a lot this year."  Turns out the ones who are doing concurrent enrollment next year are glad we learned how to do a research paper.  I even "talk with them."  That one took me awhile to figure out.  I think they expected me to just lecture and talk "at them."  Instead, I lean more to discussion classes where I throw out a question and turn them loose on it, like Dr. Frankland did with us in college.

Now, I know who some of these kids had last year.  She is an amazing teacher.  I think they just resented getting stuck with the new lady.  What ever the case, even though I can totally live with being the "mean" English teacher, it is good to know that a least a few have learned and enjoyed the process in my room this year.

Officially joining the circus

Any day now.  Any day you are going to see a post from me saying I have run away and joined the circus.  Any day.

Yesterday, Bell had a good time playing with a friend at the park, but then had an all out melt down in the car because that friend and an old friend from Comanche are both moving away soon.

Today, unusually, there was no fussing or foot dragging about getting ready for church.  The ride was distinctly peaceful.  Once we there, not so much.  Bell seemed to have a particularly difficult time sitting up.  She seemed to think that lying down and napping was good.  Ultimately, rather than be dragged outside, she settled for reading her book of Bible stories and drawing.


After church, she and Jack got out the farm toys and built a farm for a huge green beetle.  Then they fed it a worm. They didn't know it was going to liquefy the worm on the carpet before eating it.  Jack cleaned up the worm slime and then left for Stillwater on a job.

Things were smooth for a few hours until she was almost banished from Grandma's house for pouting and crying over a piece of broken side walk chalk.  Hiding in the barn and playing with kittens set the world to rights enough that she could finish her materpiece while I weeded Grandma's flower beds, though I meanly wouldn't let her keep the cutworms we found.

When we came home, I discovered that the beetle had been joined by a box of dirt full of Rolly pollies. Meltdown number 2 when the bugs were all sent outside to live.  While she made a habitat outside, I took a shower.  When I got out, I discovered that all the leaves off of a few of my Shasta daisies were  now the roof for the bug habitat.  In her defense, there weren't flowers on the daisies yet and they could have been mistaken for weeds . . . Other than the part where I water them and they live in my flower bed.  Now, five minutes until bed, I am still the bad guy because I won't let her start a video game.

This kid is high maintenance.  Tomorrow,  there better not be a circus passing through, or I just might run away for an hour or two.

A little spoiled

This morning as I type, I sit on the back porch.  There is an absolute cacophony in the trees.  I can't see the birds, but I hear a whipporwhill who is up late.  There is a woodpecker.  The rest I can't identify, but they are chatty this morning.  As it gets hot, they will settle down, but for now there is a gentle breeze and it is glorious.

I had thought to go for a run - I have sworn I will get back in that routine - but I need Jack to mow a path through pasture and over the lake dam for me.  Now the weeds and grass are knee deep and wet from dew.  Instead, I opted for a cup of good coffee and the back porch.  The humming bird feeder is a few feet away.  They were miffed with me at first, but have decided that they can breakfast even with me here.    The herbs are wafting over their damp early morning smells . . . idyllic.

I am feeling pretty spoiled these days.  I had worried that Jack would be gone so much that we would never see him with this new job, but so far - fingers crossed, knock on wood - it is going well.  He has a job that pays bills.  We are starting to make a little headway in getting out of debt again.  At the same time, he is home enough that Bell and I don't feel too lonely.  He has managed to be home enough to still get the yard mowed.  Thursday he went and bought groceries so I wouldn't have to.  When he is home, he plays laundry fairy and helps get some of that  stuff done that he did over the winter when he was home.  Last weekend, he dealt with leak in the fridge.  Today he will work a miracle on my vacuum cleaner.  He is doing more than his fair share.

I saw a beautiful necklace last week and commented on it, just in admiration, not hinting.  It, of course, showed up in a little box at our house on Mother's Day.  We have never made a big deal of those consumer driven days, Valentine's, Mother's Day, etc., instead just doing nice things for each other when we wanted, as we could afford them.  I fussed a little at his extravagance, but he doesn't buy things often and it is so lovely.  

Some women expect a pretty box and flowers at every turn.  But I have always thought I was spoiled in other more important ways.  Those boxes are grand, but in reality, the help with cooking, laundry, the kid, the groceries - all that matters far more.  The shoulder offered every night to curl up on and the kiss good bye every morning, the appreciative eyes that follow me around the house and the catching of bugs with the kid - that is stuff that makes my life sweet.

Last week end, I was allowed to spend a ridiculous amount of money buying flowers and plants for the flower beds, beds that I am admiring as I sip my coffee.  Rubilee and Harold are feeling good, so there is no rush or stress there.  have a Bountiful Basket to go pick up in a couple of hours, but for the moment, I am just going to enjoy the morning, the birds and the coffee, and that roll of thunder far off in the distance . . . Spoiled woman that I am.

Watching My Mom

I have never thought it was much of a big deal for anyone to tell me "happy Mother's Day," and perhaps it is because I just think we should be more grateful for our mothers all the time.  But life has a way of getting busy and things get left unsaid, and I know I don't let my own dear mamma know nearly often enough how much of a difference she makes.

If I started in listing all mamma's great deeds, well, we 'd need bifocals before this blog was over.  My  mom is not the sort who attended every speech contest or came to junior high ball games.  She always had a passel of other kids at home to take care of.  She found other, better ways to be supportive.  We always had a cooked from scratch supper (and often breakfast too).  Our clothes were always clean.  She played with us on rainy days and taught us read.   Even though she didn't make most of those never ending school events, she always came through if I truly needed her to, whether it was taking a nervous 18 year old to state speech finals or helping a stubborn 26 year old plant grass so she could get married in the back yard and then making that girl's wedding dress when she didn't find one to buy.


  She wasn't a stay at home most of my growing up years, but she managed so much "housewife" work in the hours between getting home from work and going back again.  Once again, it isn't that she did so much, but the grace with which did it.  My mom doesn't go in for whining, complaining, or drama.  She doesn't walk around with her mouth set in grim lines.  Instead she does her best to make our home a place of love and gentleness.  Perhaps that is the greatest lesson I learned  from her.  Attitude.  There have been so many times when lesser women would have thrown in the towel or marched around the house making sure that everyone else was as unhappy as she was.  But she doesn't.

These days, mamma spends as much time being grandma as she does mom.  When Bell came along, she stayed with my mom when I went back to work.  Now she takes care of my brother's little ones.  My little sis is a senior and graduating, and though she and my youngest brother who is 20 will still be at home, they don't need her to do all the little day to day mom things.  Now she does the theoretical mom things, like help us navigate college and career and spouse choices.

I know that I am not very maternal.  I fiercely love Bell, but I have to work at the mom thing.  I don't know if it came natural to my mom or not.  If not, she must be the most dedicated woman in the world, because we all grew up thinking she liked to play candy land and monopoly, picking plums and swimming, sewing our clothes and cooking our meals.  We all grew up confident and assured that we were loved and would be taken care of.  And even though I am a grown girl and a mamma myself, I still know that she would move heaven and earth for me and mine.

Little Sister Not So Little

one of my favs, even though not the best of the day

I know I have written here about my little sis before and since she is graduating this month, I am sure I will again in the coming weeks.

Rachel is almost 20 years younger than me.  She was born the summer I came home after my freshman year of college.  She was more like a pet when she was little, but the older she gets, the more we have in common and enjoy about each other.

She finally got her braces off last week and asked me to take her senior pictures.  We were under the gun on time because the deadline for her senior slide show is this coming Sunday.   I might should have been nervous because I am not the photographer in the family.  That is Jack's title.  I have never shot anything important.  But here is the deal.  My sis has never been comfortable in front of a camera.  She is shy.  Really shy with people she doesn't know.  At times she has lacked confidence about her appearance because she is really tall, 5'11", and towers over everyone.  She has gone through the typical gawky stages, but has come out a beauty and doesn't know it.  Anyway.  Shy means she isn't comfortable with most men taking her picture so I got to be the lucky one.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.  That is said with not a drop of sarcasm because we had fun.  She has found a grace and confidence in the last few months, letting her have fun with the pictures.  She smiled with out being asked.  She held shoulders back and looked unfalteringly into the camera.  We shot with my favorite wooden chair, on an old tractor, against trees and vine covered walls, astride fences, and with feet in the lake.  We shot till she was worn out.

They weren't perfect.  Thanks to my janky  hand, I shook a lot and cut the top of her head off occasionally.  I didn't know to have her dip her chin down at times and we had a few light issues.  But a lot of those pictures were really beautiful - it was if we both just knew what to do and it was perfect.

I just had so fun much taking her pictures and am relieved that there are shots she can be proud to show off.  At the same time, I just can't believe she is this big.  Doesn't seem like it should be so.

Feeling Like an Owl with Friends

I know some of my non-Elgin friends always ask how the year is going with the new school, new faces, new everything.  I remember after first semester, my friend Misti said, "It has been a beast, hasn't it?"  And in so many ways it had.  I spent that first semester feeling overwhelmed with new policies, new names for policies I had at Comanche, not really knowing anyone well, a kid who was so bad I thought Jack would harm him, my own kid miserable.  It was just rough and it was certainly not due to my co-workers who were nice and friendly; it was just rough.

We are almost to the end of another semester and I can say it hasn't been a beast at all.  When someone asks where I am from, I don't still automatically say Comanche.  I had been there for 12 years and it was a hard habit to break.  I think some of it has to do with the removal of two particularly challenging students from my class, including the one Jack wanted  to harm.

Most of it has to do with my co-workers who are sliding over into being friends.  A few months ago, a bunch of the ladies went to dinner one night.  I had been invited before, but this is the first time I had gotten to go.  Amy brought me a bag of citrus that her family couldn't consume fast enough.  Kelli made a Facebook post wishing us well on our EOI tests.  Lori kindly let me ride with her on a first grade field trip.  Suzanne takes the cake though because she took my kid for an evening so Jack and I could have a date night last night.  That was huge - we have had no Bell free time since we moved almost a year ago.  All of these things sound so small, but they aren't small and they aren't the only ones.  They are all gestures of friendship, of kindness, of acceptance.  These women have all made a point to let me in the circle in so many ways, whether it just the "good mornings" in the hall or bringing me lunch when someone makes a Somic run.

I wasn't scared to come to Elgin, but I was was so sad about leaving my old crowd.  I still miss the lunch bunch.  I want to hear about their children and grandchildren and motorcycles and . . . and. . .


Even though I still miss them, I am so grateful for these women who let the new girl in.  It matters so very much.