This Just In...

Salad is more palatable if eaten with one's hands!

Perhaps part of my deep loathing of salad springs from my inability to get the stuff onto my fork.

Sadly, conventions of acceptable societal behavior may put a damper on my latest discovery.

The Two Happiest Teaching Moments of my Life

The first of the happiest moments of my teaching life came last year, sometime around the first day of school, right after my first class, when I realized, "I LOVE this! I was MADE for this!"

The second of the two happiest moments of my teaching life came today. I was talking with the headmaster, whose son is in my senior class. They had just gone down to PA for a college visit. The headmaster said, "Andrea, have you heard what my son's been telling people? You're not going to believe this. This is going to floor you. We got down there to PA, and the people asked what he was thinking about going into. And he said Literature."

!!!

Let me try to tell you what this meant to me. I was awake in the night, two and a half years ago, wondering what in the world I was going to do with my life. I realized that teaching was all I could see myself doing career-wise. I had discovered how much I loved literature that semester. And I couldn't imagine anything better than being able to stay immersed in it all my life, and passing on that love to other people. That was what I wanted to do with a teaching career: inspire others to want to find the beauty I had found - show people the possibilities and the richness there.

When my headmaster told me that news, my cup was full! THAT is why I had become a teacher. And I realized in that moment, very concretely, that that vision I'd had was being realized. What an amazing moment!

The Jane Eyre Mystery

I'm teaching Jane Eyre to my 7th and 8th graders, and I'm having a ball with it! The following tale is based on a real class... We just read the chapter in which someone sets fire to Mr. Rochester's bed. We got to the end of the chapter, where Mr. Rochester tenderly thanks Jane with her hand in both of his, and then I started asking the questions. "What is up with this Grace Poole character?!"

You should have HEARD the hypotheses that flew about thick and fast. We started with the more expected:

"Maybe she's crazy!"

"Maybe she's evil!"

"Maybe she knows something about Mr. Rochester, and if he fires her she'll tell everyone, so he can't get rid of her."

I write blackmail on the board.

And THEN...

"I know! She didn't really do it - the other servant, Leah, paid her to go by Jane's room and laugh and then leave, and then Leah did it!" (Motive? Um, no.)

"It was probably MRS. FAIRFAX (the very docile, ordinary old housekeeper), because she was distantly related and maybe she would inherit Thornfield!"

"Maybe Mrs. Pool has someone locked up in the attic!" (Miss Murray laughs in what she hopes will be perceived as a how-cute-of-you-to-be-so-far-wrong way, and not a nervous how-in-the-world-did-you-hit-upon-that way.)

"Or MAYBE Mrs. Pool is really Celine, the French dancer, Adele's mom, that Mr. Rochester used to love. And she's pretending to be crazy and she's so good at it Mr. R doesn't even know it is she!" (Actually, none of my kids would say "it is she." sigh.)

"It was probably Pilot (the dog)."

"It was the wife of the guy Mr. Rochester shot in the arm long ago, and she's come back to get revenge!"

"No, guys, it's always the person you don't suspect. It was probably Mr. Rochester himself!"

And then came the crowning moment of the class:

"I know. Guys, I know. Mr. Rochester just did it so he could have an excuse to hold Jane's hand." (Gales of laughter. Order never restored. Teacher laughing too hard to try. Class over.)

The Really Real

This week I've run into a few negative interpretations of religion.

In a tv show two people were discussing prayer. One said we thank God for things not because it does anything for Him (the speaker didn't even believe there was a God), but because it was good for us to express that feeling of thankfulness. Hm. The other said we thank God for things because we don't want to be squished like bugs. Nice.

Then, in bloggerdom, I saw a comment about religion being something man has created because of his own ego - he wants to think his ego can connect on with something that will last forever. Cheery.

And I just want to scream "PEOPLE! You're MISSING SO MUCH!!!"

All week long, since last weekend's awesome experience with the Holy Spirit, I've been thinking about how wonderful it is to dwell on the things that really matter - the things that are really REAL. It is so good to focus on the things that are high and lasting and right, instead of being absorbed with the trivial and temporary.

And I was thinking about other people who don't even know of this whole realm - the realm that is so much more real and lasting than what they see around them. My prayers for the removal of the covering (aided in inspiration by Craig's comments about being a prayer warrior even in the little prayers) have taken on new life. How dreadful to go through life without experiencing reality! It's as if a bunch of people are walking around with only half of their lungs, so that they can never breath deeply. It's like unsaved humanity can only see in black and white, or have no taste buds, or something... only so much more so. There is SO much MORE!

I breath in, deeply, the air of reality. I rejoice that God has allowed me to see Him and His truth - and I pray it out to the rest of humanity. I want them to break through the thin veneer on which they live their lives, and fall into the rich depths of what life is really about: the REALLY real!

God is huge - He is everything good - He is the meaning - He is the purpose - He is the most real reality. He has set up the world to be enjoyed in this context: that He is GOD! So let's live our lives in that context - experiencing all the good He has given us in this life - and looking forward to the time when what is really real is all we see, and the trivial, superficial, and transient are gone forever. And let's believe for others to get the reality too!

Praise the Lord for TRUTH!

Sept 30, 2006

By now you’ve probably read, on Craig’s or Derrick’s blog, about last Saturday night’s outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Here I am at last, with teacher training tomorrow and thus no lesson plans tonight (!), to weigh in on the matter.

It seemed to me a time of great import. It was a unified surrender of self to all that God has for us. It was a joint outpouring of our desire for God, for vision, for His highest. It was a time unlike any I’ve experienced before, in terms of being with a group of peers seeking God in that way. I found myself real and open, uninhibited, as I talked to God, despite the fact that so many others were listening. That was the Holy Spirit.

And I believe God heard us and is answering. Actually, I think we were the ones who were answering His call. But when we called to Him in response, He answered us and worked and is continuing to work, continuing to call us higher.

And I want to go. What else is there? What else would we possibly want to waste our time with except the highest and best – that for which we were created.

And I’m anticipating great things. God doesn’t work at random – everything He does is moving us toward that final goal of history. What happened that night happened for a reason. God prepared us for that, and what happened was preparation for something else… I keep thinking about the impact a group of people totally committed to God and to His will could have. Who knows what God has planned?! It is as if He is building a force for something. And I’m in.

I don’t know what it is, exactly. All I know is that I want to be totally His – totally surrendered – totally taken up with Him. And He'll do the rest.

Of course, emotions don’t last and the high fades. But the truth of the matter continues on – the vision is still there – the desire to deal only with what’s real remains. Whatever I do, I want to be close to Him, and furthering His Kingdom.

And that’s where it starts. As we give ourselves to Him, He can use us. So, readers, I encourage you to think about what really matters, and give yourselves again to His cause. It doesn’t have to be an emotional thing, even – just a conscious assent to His will is incredibly powerful. I am praying for new life all over the Kingdom – for an entire church with the passion to be His and only His, to see Him and only Him, to pursue Him and Him alone.

I believe this is possible, and that, if and when it happens, the power of such a movement will be immeasurable. So let’s turn to God and see what He will do! This is what really matters.

Across the Sea

I am sailing, I am sailing,
Home again 'cross the sea.
I am sailing, stormy waters,
To be near you, to be free.

-Gavin Sutherland










And, doubtless, unto thee is given
A life that bears immortal fruit
In those great offices that suit
The full-grown energies of heaven...

But thou and I have shaken hands,
Till growing winters lay me low;
My paths are in the fields I know,
And thine in undisover'd lands.

Tennyson, In Memoriam, XL

My Latest Games...

After having two people from school comment on my driving (specifically my tactic of weaving about through various lanes of traffic on the highway), I decided it was time to do something about it. One never knows when one will be spotted by someone from one's work world. Sigh. So recently I've been playing this game called "patience." It's actually quite entrancing! Finally I begin to understand children's attraction to The Quiet Game. I always assumed they were just a little too, um, immature to realize that the game was merely to keep them from driving adults crazy. But they may be on to something. It really is entertaining to spend time doing something contrary to nature! I calmly drive down the road, sticking with one lane, and shaking my head and sighing condescendingly about that young hot-head who is weaving about through lanes of traffic trying to save himself one extra minute. These silly impatient drivers. Someday maybe they will be as mature and peaceful as I am, serenely gliding down the highway.

The other game I've been playing is the "be more like Danny" game. It's great fun. You pretend that you have the work ethic of your older brother, so you work like a slave all week on lesson plans and essay grading. The reason this is a game is because you're pretending that you're doing the work in order to be as good a teacher as your brother, but really you're doing it because you have absolutely no choice - the amount of work is the bare minimum for survival now that you are teaching this many classes.

In other news (lest we forget) I LOVE TEACHING!!!

Okay, who told the Chinese?

It's so nice having TJ home - it means we eat Chinese food more:) And last weekend, I got a fortune cookie that made me reflect on deep life truths. Or deep life questions, rather. Like, who told the Chinese about me? Which of my friends and relations is the mole?!

My fortune was "You will find yourself in a position of dignity in the end." HA! You keep trying to be grown up and dignified, but we fortune cookie writers know that you are fighting a losing battle. You?! Dignified?! (giggle giggle) But hey, don't worry. You might be dignified by the time you DIE! (If you're lucky.) (more giggles)

Today one of my students told me that her mother said I bring sunshine to the school... you can hear me all through the halls. Oh. Great!

Well, here's hoping for that dignity in the end...

Confrontation? Not Today!

This morning I got a text message from one of my student's moms (the one who really befriended me last year - I love her!), saying she was sorry to bother me, but she needed to ask me a question.

Uh oh, I thought, here it comes. Her daughter had not completed her summer assignments, and I had told her that she could either tell her mom she was starting the semester with three zeros, or I would have to call her myself. From the text message I surmised that the daughter had told the mother, the mother was upset, and the mother wanted to talk me into some kind of excessive grace or something.

But I texted her back and told her she wasn't bothering me and to go ahead and ask. She texted me back: "[re: the logic puzzle I'd given her daughter in class the day before] Who really did steal the art picture, Charlie or Bill?!"

Hee hee hee. I was vastly relieved and told her it was Charlie. How cute!

And now, with that lovely segue into the subject of school (HA! What else do I ever blog about during the year?!), I am happy to report that things are going fabulously. Last night I was reflecting on the difference between this Friday and last Friday. Last Friday I was a mess, worried about the work load, hating the prospect of Rhetoric class, sure I would never survive. (Incidentally, when I start feeling like that I love quoting "The Princess Bride" at the part where Westley and Buttercup are about to enter the Fireswamp and Buttercup says "We'll never survive," in that beautiful English accent. Hm. Obviously I can't be too despairing if I am still quoting TPB... Oh well. It was pretty despairing for the likes of me.)

This Friday I came home wicked tired, but also happy with how the classes had gone, how I'd handled them (I felt so good-teacher-y because I went the extra mile, in trying to explain truth, validity, and soundness in my logic class, by bringing in a diagram and a visual aid made with legos!), and how the future looked. That talk with my headmaster made such a difference, as did getting further into the groove. I'm going to have to work hard, harder than last year, but not nearly as hard as I envisioned (burning the midnight oil - not a moment's free time - all that jazz). It's going to be okay, thank the Lord!

And this week, I had many of those moments where I thought to myself, or even said aloud: "I LOVE TEACHING!!!"

My Style of Conflict Resolution: Everyone Agree with Me!

This morning I was grumpy as all get-out, bewailing my overworked state. But by afternoon I was blissfully saying I had the best job in the world. What made the difference? The world's BEST headmaster!

Friday afternoon I suddenly realized that Rhetoric class was going to be totally boring and a waste of time and energy. This is not a realization one wants to reach at the beginning of a school year. So I generally panicked, and then started casting about for alternate curriculum.

This afternoon, with fear and trepidation, I sat down with my headmaster and told him I wanted to scrap the curriculum and replace it with a new one. And he listened! And (gasp) agreed! He was totally on my side. Isn't that amazing?! As an employee, I felt like my boss was really behind me, and wanted me to succeed. Now that was a good thing to realize at the beginning of a school year. He is really a good man. Bless his heart! He just saved my santity. It's amazing what the losing of a horrible class and the gaining of a fascinating one will do for my morale!

An Exciting Win, says you...

A Change in the Wind, Says I!

"It's Only a Game"

That has to be one of my most-despised phrases of all time. And for some reason, I always tend to hear it when it is the least true! It is NOT just a game! Well, okay, technically, definition-wise, it is just a game. Not a llama. Or a compound sentence. It is not a game AND a pistachio. It is just a game. That much I can accept.

But we all know that when somebody says, complacently or conciliatorily, "it's only a game," the implication is, "it doesn't matter." "Only" means "merely." "Only" means "I can't believe you care about something this insignificant." "Only" means "why don't you get an interest like world peace or something that really matters?" "Only" means "you are an inferior human being for even thinking about caring." Humph. Only, forsooth!

The phrase is invariably used by someone who is not a fan, or not an athlete, and is directed toward someone who is very much one or the other or both, and almost always when the team that the latter is supporting is losing in the playoffs or something. At the point where the fan is at his most tense - the team is at the do-or-die point - history is in the balance.

It is not "merely" a game. It is a CONTEST. It is a CHAMPIONSHIP. It is VICTORY at stake. There is a lot more to a game than it's definition - than the fact that what is being achieved isn't affecting the economy or the state of the Middle East. In a game there is the striving after perfection, the pitting of the best in the world against the best in the world, the attaining of things no one else has ever attained. It is a team - a group of men who have been seeking the same goal, together. It is a fan-base: people who have watched history unfolding with bated breath, and with passionate interest. There is a LOT to a game! It's not just a couple of hoops and a ball that bounces. That's almost like simplifying the Mid East conflict into a couple of guns and a line in the sand. There's a lot more to it than that! Similarly, there is a lot more at stake in a championship game than "only a game."

So, folks, let's not trivialize the role of the game in America. Let's not forget the lessons games teach, the character they build, the inspiration they give, the perfection they demand. "Games" is a word with which the word "ONLY" should never be coupled!

(And no, nobody said this to me recently - something innocuous just reminded me of it, and I thought it would be of utmost blog-worthiness.)

First Day of Teacher Training

The first day back was great! I was practically giddy: as sociable as I come. Well, nearly. Anyway, I guess I was happy to be back.

I met the new teacher, and he seems really nice. But, since we didn't get that third teacher, he might be the homeroom teacher for the 7th and 8th grade, which means I might not even share a room! Weird! But fun! If it means I don't have to oversee the 7th and 8th grade clean-up in their room at the end of the day I will click my heels for joy (or something). That was the worst part of last year. Well, that and having to confess that it was me, and not one of my 7th grade girls, who had just screamed like that.

Today we learned Logic. It was great fun. As a Classical school, we teach Logic, and our headmaster decided it would probably be good if all the teachers (even those for the younger grades) knew some logic, so we could all be heading our students in the same direction. Hear hear! I really enjoyed the day - it was so much better than hearing about what the ideal teacher is like, and feeling like I was up to about 1% of that ideal. Bring on the logic! Plus, I'll be teaching it this year, so it's great review for what I learned this summer in preparation (as well as some new stuff!).

Most of all I had fun setting up my posters. I have decorated this post with copies of two of the poster I have hanging in my room now! Beautious, eh?

Overworked and Underpaid (but still loving it!)

Okay, here is my sob story (which I'm not sobbing about):

My school was going to hire another jr high / high school teacher. Good. We needed one. HOWEVER, somehow that fell through. SO, the other teacher and I are totally picking up the slack. Oy vay. I am going to be teaching SO many classes!

I was all set to do British Literature for the 11th and 12th grades, as well as general Lit for the 9th grade. I was also planning on Logic (hee hee hee), possibly for two levels, as well as Rhetoric (for two levels, but during one class time - one-room school house syle). Okay, good. I was feeling like that was quite manageable. Oh, typing too, but that really doesn't require a lot from me since it's just Mavis Beacon.

THEN I got this e-mail from the headmaster asking me to call him asap. Call him I did, with an elevated pulse. The conversation did nothing to lower my blood pressure. "How do you feel about math?" He asked me. "Umm, I think that it is evil in number form." No, actually I said "I can handle low-level math, but I never went beyond Algebra II..." "Okay, do you think you can teach Algebra I?" "Sure!" (That last statement was made in a fit of insanity. No, I think I can really do it, as long as the real math teacher can help me out a little...")

We discussed some other possibilities, and then he popped in a little, "By the way, I think you're getting your 7th and 8th grade Lit class back." Here there is a pause, as I reflect back on the fact that I have just spent the whole summer preparing two Lit classes, and have one week to work on this third one. "Ummm, I don't really have any books or anything." "Oh, just teach something you've read before." "Well, okay!" It wasn't like he meant to spring this on my last-minute - it wasn't his fault the teacher decided not to work at our school after all. Sigh. And I'm taking him up on the books you've read before thing: The Hobbit, Tom Sawyer, Jane Eyre, and maybe The Chosen. Fun!

So now I'm teaching EIGHT courses:

*Lit (11th and 12th)
*Lit (9th)
*Lit (7th and 8th)
*Logic (7th)
*Logic (8th and 9th) - this one might be in with the 7th grade logic, or might be scrapped all together, so I might only have 7 courses
*Rhetoric (11th as well as 12th, but in the same period)
*Algebra I
*Typing

QUITE THE LINE-UP, EH? Good grief. But now I have to say that it's really not that bad:) It looks like a lot of fun, and I think it's do-able. For one thing (and this is a big thing) Logic, Rhetoric, and Typing are all just three days a week. So really only four courses are every day. And also, some will take very little preparation ahead of time (like typing and Algebra). So it's not as bad as it initially looks. But I just wanted to make it look as bad as possible for effect:)

Should be quite a year!

Girls Singing Boys' Songs

So here's this dilemma. Some of the most beautiful songs in the world are written from the male perspective. But when I'm rich and famous and cutting 276 CDs a year, I'll be realllly tempted to use the most beautiful songs in the world! Because really, why would you want to cut CDs that didn't have the most beautiful music in the world? I mean, that would be like if you were an incredible writer but chose to write stories about red ponies who die and stuff.

"Danny Boy" for instance is an incredibly beautiful piece. I love singing it at the top of my lungs when the occasion warrants (occasions in which I'm cleaning the house and no one else is home, for example). But really it was written from the father's perspective. Lots of girls sing it, and thus change it to a love song, and it's very pretty. But for me it loses some of its meaning that way. Sigh.

"My Love to My Bride" is one I actually sang at a recital in college. It is another incredibly beautiful one, but really there is no way to make that work. So that one gets the old scratch.

Fortunately for me, and all other females who like to sing, there are also beautiful songs that are written from a female perspective. So all's well there. I don't really have to settle for ugly songs for all of my days...

Anyway, this all came because I was listening to just such a song being sung by a girl on Pandora Internet Radio. PEOPLE! You should check it out! Melissa introduced me to it, and then Penny reminded me of it (Pandora, that is). You type in someone you like, and then you can listen to tons of music in that same style! Right now I'm listening to "Lisa Kelly Radio" and it's beautiful. (Lisa Kelly is one of the "Celtic Woman" singers.) COOL, HUH? I highly recommend it. It can introduce you to all kinds of great new music!

Also, I'm still having a fabu time in GA! I love it down here. We've done some great shopping, some great fellowshipping, some great dining, etc. Oh! And swimming! For like an hour and a half or so last night we had the pool to ourselves and it was such fun. I won the "swim underwater the farthest" contest. Yippee! My calling in life! Today we joined the Adams girls for shopping on the square and had a delightful time. We had fried green tomatoes at the sweet little restaurant there. Success all around. Hurrah for GA!

Happy Birthday to Gretchen!

Today is my big sister's birthday! I love her.

When I was little she was one of my standards of cool-ness.

Now she is one of my standards of Godly-woman-ness.

I admire her devotion to God - her vision for what her life is about - her unselfishness for the sake of her family.

I love being friends with her.

Happy Birthday, Gretchen!

Penny = Superer Woman than Superwoman!

Okay folks. So you see THIS. But I saw the process! Well, not the painting, which was already done, but the hanging of the accessories. And was I ever impressed! I wish you could have been here to see Penny, surrounded by tools, working away with levels and tape measures, hammers and weird tools whose names I didn't even know. She's amazing! I was wicked impressed. She even has her own power drill! You can get much more super-woman-ish than that. This living room is BEAUTIFUL! If I even get a house, I think I'll ask Penny to be the interior decorator. I love her style. Oh, she also makes her own iced coffee! Folks, this girl is goooood. I'm such a fan.

In other (but pretty related) news, I'M IN GA!!! Man, I love this place. Katie and I had a lovely time getting here, except for about 2 hours in NY City and 1 hour in Virginia where we weren't doing very much in the "getting here" department. But actually, even that wasn't too bad, because hey, we were hanging out, and taking a road trip! Okay, I'm lying. NY City stank. But VA was okay:) Anyway, the rest of the trip was fantastic. Katie read "The Ball and the Cross" by G. K. Chesterton out loud to me, and it was fantastic. I HIGHLY recommend it. Funny, great story, great characters, and great point!

Yesterday I joined the youth group for some basketball. After two days of sitting in the car I was ready to move around, and it wasn't too hot (amazingly). So I jumped onto the court and went at it. I was having a fabulous time. I even got some baskets (I was on Zohrab's team which meant that everyone on the team got the ball - yay!). But after awhile my feet were really starting to hurt. I was playing barefoot on the pavement - and this was no ordinary pavement. Very rough. Soon my feet hurt so badly that I had to take a time out to go beg some sneakers off someone.

Lo and behold, after more basketball and some volleyball too, I returned to the Browns to discover that there were large blisters on the bottoms of my feet! Like I say, no ordinary pavement. Both big toes were really scuffed up. Interestingly enough, they scuffed along the toe-print lines. Weird. But the balls of my feet were the worst. They had large, paisly-shaped blisters just below the big toes. Woooo! They are things of beauty. I guess it's from all the rapid changes of direction and such. I don't know. But there they are. Large, red, and squishy.

So since then I've been walking around on my heels and the outside edges of my feet. I feel like a grandmother. A really old one. But it's kind of fun. You should try it! It makes my walking really slow though, so sometimes I kind of run that way in order to catch up with the person I'm walking with. It makes for quite the hobble.

Last night Nate, Penny and I went swimming at the near-by pool (which was empty!). We were walking back to the car, when I commented that I hoped no bad guys came to chase us, because I'd have to just run regularly, and the blisters would have to fend for themselves. Then Nate said cheerfully that he and Penny would be fine - they'd just have to make sure to run a little faster than I could. I told him I didn't like his attitude.

I'm having a wonderful time!

"It could happen!"

Last night Katie and I went bowling. Actually, Katie went bowling and I went to watch her. We only had one pair of socks between us. And the Red Sox game was on, so I wasn't in great need of other entertainment.

I took some sweet video of the occasion on my phone, but alas, I can't get it to transmit. Something is definitely wrong there. I'll have to look into it.

Anyway. I sat there, happily keeping one eye on the tv and one eye on Katie. The result was strange to behold, but fortunately Katie had requested a lane far away from other people, so nobody noticed.

As I watched, I began to notice a strange phenomenon. When the Red Sox did something right, Katie did well, and when they did something bad, she did... um, not so well. Odd, I thought. I pointed it out to Katie. And then it got a little uncanny. Katie got the ball, er, semi-far-from-the-middle, and the pitcher (Hansen) got a ball. Katie got one more middling and Hansen got a strike.

There was definitely some kind of connection there!

But then there was a commercial and I kind of forgot about it. I got absorbed in the games (Katie's and the Red Sox). But THEN it happened. Ortiz was up to bat, and Katie was up to bowl. She strode forward, released, and lo! it was RIGHT down the middle. A PERFECT STRIKE!!!

And I looked up at the screen and Ortiz was trotting around the bases. Trotting? Why YES. He'd just hit a HOMERUN!!!

Oh my word. Stop the presses. Folks, it has become abundantly clear that Katie is the key to success for the Sox. Obviously there is some mystic bond between the two. One cannot succeed without the other. I predict that this year's World Series will occur with Katie in the bowling alley. We need to foster her love of bowling. Take her often. Get her in excellent form. She must bowl the Red Sox to VICTORY!

Hm. On the other hand, she'll probably want to watch the World Series. This could be a problem. Okay, solution: have her bowl many and many a 300 before the WS, in order to get some victory in the bank that the Sox can pull out and use at the opportune moments.

Now if I ONLY had that video to post...

My Confession (which is quite different from Josh Groban's)

I HATE SALAD! There. I've said it. After years of just eating it because it was there, it finally hit me, clearly and undeniably: I simply loath the stuff. I wouldn't mind if I never saw another leaf of it again. I like the veggies fine: tomatoes, green pepper, cucumber... yummmm. But as for the leafy stuff, absolutely no redeeming value. Except for nutritionally, of course, which doesn't count.

Many of my more meritous friends enjoy it, which makes me wonder if perhaps I am missing out. Sometimes, even where there is the option of a hamburger or a quesadilla, they choose it at a restaurant! To me, that is a waste of stomach space that could have been used more efficiently, and pleasurably.

I don't see any way out of this vicious salad-loathing cycle. Every time I convince myself that it's good for me, and try some, I am reminded all the more vigorously of why I do not like it, and I am all the more hardened in my anti-salad stance. It is not for me to munch upon the green and leafy.

Now if they would come up with CHOCOLATE lettuce, that would be a different story!

The Big Coffee

Claire coined this spin on the Big Apple, and I liked it (sorry, Claire)and therefore stole it. Remember the time when I went to Seattle? Well, here I am, back to tell the tale! Quite an amazing place, really... I agree, Linds -- I kind of want to live there. It suddenly dawned on me at some point on the trip how incredibly rich I am in travel experiences. Here I was in a brand new corner of the country, taking in new sights while at the same time being reminded of Jerusalem, Northern Galilee, London, and Boston. Wow. What a variety of places God has put me, without my even realizing it.

Okay, so instead of launching into a full blow-by-blow account of our (my immediate family, that is-- sorry I forgot to mention that detail before) adventures, I'll try to just hit the highlights.

1) MOUNTAINS. REAL ones. I could harly believe it from the plane -- all these massive, craggy ranges, complete with honest-to-goodness snow on top. We're not in [my small, flat hometown] anymore, Toto. Mt. Ranier was the most impressive, of course. It kept popping up and surprising me around every turn (enough so that T and A got sick of me saying "Look! A mountain!" every 5 seconds). It was really weird to travel by typical stores and strip malls and suddenly see this majestic panorama towering above a Michael's like a fake backdrop meant to garner business. On one day we went to Olympic National Park and wound around impossibly steep cliffs with no guard rails (a little like the ascent of Akrabim only with trees). What a vista. On top we found some leftover snow and some feisty park rangers who were very diligent about protecting the dead pine needles on either side of the path. I thought of Brandon's Adventures in Yellowstone and of course appreciated their keeping us all safe. We didn't see one single buffalo...



The white stuff is snow. They must have had some crazy drifts this winter, because it was HOT and there were still piles lying around.



Here's A. leaping into the great beyond. This was before we saw the "please stay behind the wall" sign. Oh well. It wouldn't have been the first time we ignored such warnings on our trip. I think we killed a rainforest by the side of the road earlier in the day.... It brought back fond memories of Kingdom History trip.



2) "Only in Seattle" moments. There are always some signs of foreignness on trips like this. Just the fact that we were on the West coast was kind of weird. At one point A. said something about what we do "out East" -- do they say that in Washington? Or do they say "back East," since everything began here in the first place? hmm... Anyway, that's beside the point. The point is that people here really are majorly obsessed with coffee. At least that's what I gathered from the fact that we kept seeing espresso huts in every other parking lot. They were around the size of the old snackbar on the ballfield -- some even smaller-- with the one word "espresso" emblazoned on the front to assure weary passersby that they would survive until the next Starbucks. I didn't see very many people actually stopped at them, though, which made me wonder.... Personally, I missed Dunkin' Donuts (although that one green tea raspberry frappucino I had from Starbucks was pretty stinkin good).

Here's another oddity that I found highly amusing. I guess this fully-illustrated warning makes it very clear to potential lawbreaking truckers exactly what terrors they have to face if they DARE go over 30. I think I found my calling as an artist.








We also went to the famous Pike Place Market, which reminded me a lot of the souq. Part of it is an open-air type affair, with little booths of fruit, nuts, flowers, hot, melt-in-your-mouth donuts, and fish. The fish stands are particularly famous, I guess, because they throw the things around and tend to make a giant show of it all.


3) Friends. There are so many cool people in Seattle! We went to the A's house the afternoon we arrived (relations of Penny, Brad, and yes, Craig -- somehow that connection slipped my mind. so many family trees to remember...). We were treated to some FABULOUS raspberry pie made by Kristi, and enjoyed a tour of their beautiful home and backyard garden (I think we should hire out Mrs. A to come landscape for us). I'm afraid we weren't very thrilling company since our bodies were telling us it was around midnight... but it was a nice visit nonetheless and we got some good advice about what to do with ourselves in Seattle.
We also saw Luke and his fiancee (who was super nice and we all liked a lot). We met them at Safeco Field (more on that later) and watched the game with them, then went out to dinner later on. I had a great time chatting with Luke, getting caught up on our goings on, filling him in on the who's who of the 2006 Red Sox (kind of hard to stay on top of things way out there) and even launching into a very interesting discussion of politics. We covered a lot of ground during batting practice. :)
Finally, I got a chance to meet up with 4 friends from high school. I wasn't totally sure how it would go, but I ended up having a fabulous time and wish that they lived closer. It's kind of cool to relate with friends from long ago who are still the people you remember, only more grown up. If that makes any sense...

4) The Game.... Sigh. It really was a fabulous game, but such a killer loss. Safeco Field is really nice -- very big, and very new and therefore clean. One thing that struck me as being different from Fenway was the fact that we looked DOWN on the field when we walked in from the street level. Not the same glorious impact.... But there were plenty of reminders of home. The Sox fans were out in droves, and the camaraderie was all the more spectacular being so far from home. There was this instant bond with every 3rd person we saw, it seemed. I even sat next to a guy from Boston on the plane who was going to the same game we were, then heading to Oakland to catch the series there. At batting practice I chatted with a guy from Worcester; he showed me a picture of his daughter w/ Curt Schilling that he was going to try to get signed. What other team can boast such fabulous fans... I love it. During the game itself I was torn between reveling in The Nation's numbers and cringing at how loathed we were by the Mariners fans around us. There were some pretty hearty, stadium wide "Let's Go, Red Sox" cheers. I get the impression that it takes quite a bit to get the few Seattle fans whipped into much of a frenzy (though they got pretty frenzied at the end, which made the walk-off loss all the worse. But then there was that great guy who came walking past holding up his Boston hat and nodding to his comrades in the stand, "it's all right; we've still got it!")


Here's where we got our seats. Those tiny specks are apparently ballplayers. The depth perception was totally off from up here; we couldn't even tell which way the ball was going -- it was weird. An interesting perspective, but of course we fell back on our old ways and moved to some seats T scouted out for us about 30 rows up from the first base side of home. Nice. We didn't even get kicked out once! A new record!

As you can see, we got within pretty good picture range at batting practice. Alex Cora tossed a ball that Luke, being very tall, snagged. Someone near him asked who had thrown it...good thing I had just told him who Cora was :) At one point T was hanging out near where the pitchers were warming up and Manny Delcarmen tossed a ball into the stands. T reached in front of some girl and caught it, then felt bad and said he'd give her the next one. Sure enough, Craig Hansen threw him one, and he handed it over to the girl. Papelbon saw it, and yelled up, "WEAK!" to T. haha. T. tried to explain that he already had a ball, but "Papi Jr." just shook his head and yelled "weak!" again. Ah, the momentous brushes with fame.

There's plenty more I could write, such as the fact that we did in fact see the first ever Starbucks (and the awesome a cappela trio out front), and the Space Needle, and lots of art galleries (yay for me! poor everyone with me!), including one in the Experience Music Project building designed by THE Frank Gehry (oooh, ahhh... who's Frank Gehry? Look up the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. wowzers). However, this post is a veritable beast already, and I'm tired. Thanks to all you well-wishers out there -- we had a really good time. You can see more pictures if you ever run into me someday.

The end.

Reading Like Crazy!

I have approximately two weeks left free for the rest of the summer. Gasp! Where does the time go?! So I've designated it as reading time - as in, reading the books I'll be teaching next year.

Yesterday I read H. G. Wells' "The Time Machine." It was actually quite a fascinating read! I liked it better than "The War of the Worlds," which I'd finished just before. And it reminded me of this hilarious bit of writing.

Today, on a vastly different note, I read "The Pilgrim's Progress." Wow! I was sort of familiar with it, I guess, but hadn't read it in years (if I ever did read the whole thing). There are some really deep things there. I'd recommend it to all! It wasn't exactly a page turner, and I did skim some, but it was well worth the time. (I read just the first half - about Christian - and skipped the second half about his wife...)

I'm taking a break for the Sabbath (doing some P. G. Wodehouse or something), but then I'll be tackling such things as "Silas Marner" (has anyone read it? I haven't yet. Obviously.) and "Paradise Lost." Woooo!

Oh. Before vacation I massively skim-read "Frankenstein." I had no idea what a horrible story it was! Oy vay! Barely a drop of good cheer to be seen anywhere! I decided not to make my kids read it:) But I did learn something valuable: Frankenstein is the name of the guy who made the monster-ish guy, and not the monster-ish guy himself. Who would have thought?

When I wrote my PC English profs to let them know I was an English teacher, one wrote back with the bad news that it's a lot of work, but the good news that the work is usually reading, which is why we got into the field in the first place! Hurrah for books!

Weeohd!

The other night I needed a book (I hadn't really brought vacation books on our vacation - a serious blunder), so I rummaged in Aunt Laura's attic and found one I'd never read. I forget what the name and author are (it's waaaaay upstairs, and heaven forbid I leave the couch for investigative research), so sorry about that. But anyway, I picked it up and started to read and it was the weirdest thing. The book kept reminding me of myself!

It wasn't a particular character - it was more the author. She put in things that sounded so much like me. For instance, she had a character who got really mad when he walked outside and felt the cold air. That's ME! When I walked out on the way to school early early in the morning, and was hit by 20 below winds, I just wanted to punch something. Angrily.

And there was also the dislike of talking on the telephone - an inability to really communicate without being able to see the other person. Yup. That's me! Hate phones.

And then there was the guy who was feeling annoyed because he'd figured out the world's most beautiful word the night before and he'd forgotten it. I love beautiful sounding words! I've never figured out the world's most beautiful before, but if I did I'd surely forget it (if I didn't write it down immediately).

It's kind of uncanny, really. So many peculiar little things that made me think of me. That doesn't happen very often. I think there was another thing, too. And ALL of that was just in chapter one. Phew! At this rate, the depths of my soul will be in chapter 12!

"A man said Why, why does traveling
in cars and in trains make him feel sad,
a beautiful sadness.
I’ve felt this before.
It’s the people in the cities you’ll never know,
it is everything you pass by,
wondering will you ever return.
The colors of rowboats, the greens and the blues.
Orange grove side streets you only see halfway.
And beaches in winter
and when kites are flown.
It’s the people in the cities you’ll never know,
it is everything you pass by,
wondering will you ever return."

-Innocence Mission, "Song about Traveling"

Happy Golden Birthday, man. Find some good spots today.

Girls Week Flashback

Here are some of my favorite pictures from Girls' Week!


These two are at the ocean in Newport...



We had a lovely, sunny, chummy, and creative day!




Then there was ice cream in Newport...
And here is a sample of the AMAZING drama that came about because of the long van rides. Hurrah!

(Thanks Steph and Diane for the pics you left on my computer:)!)

Coffee, Rain, and Some Big Needle...

...is pretty much all I know about Seattle. But that is about to change! This is Melissa, by the way, back from the netherworld of summer school. Biology is over FOREVER! Huzzah. I still don't really have time to be posting anything, of course, since I haven't packed one speck and we're leaving the house at some horrible hour tomorrow morning(like 4:45 or something... is it even POSSIBLE to wake up that early?). But yes... I now declare to the blogging world that we are going to Seattle. My dad had Sky Miles that needed to be used up, so we randomly picked that unexplored corner of our fair land. Some of my friends from high school live out there, as well as cousin Luke and the um... people who are relations of Penny and Brad (there's my occasional burst of Internet Anonymity Consideration coming through), so it will be nice to see people who we haven't seen in forever. AND, what is more, we're going to our first Red Sox game on the road! Everyone be sure to watch every second of the game until you see us. I'm curious to see how many Sox fans there will be that far afield. No doubt a whole host... I love The Nation.

Maybe I'll figure out how to actually post some pictures one of these days so I can share the natural wonders (such as the aforementioned attractions) with the world. Okay. The end.

p.s. We're going to Sunday's game... kind of forgot that little detail.

24 - AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Okay, this post isn't really about 24. But MAN is that show intense. We have only two episodes left of season one... AAHHHHH!!!

What this post is really about is this: try to remember waaaay back to 7th grade. What was your favorite book of those you had to read in school? Or 8th grade? Or 9th? In the next few days I'm hoping to finalize the list of books we'll be reading in the lower grades, and I'd love some suggestions. I can only remember a couple of the books I read then, but I figure that if all of you remember one or two, I'll have quite a list to work from...

So how about it? What books did you enjoy as a junior high school student?

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my father's birthday!

He is my all-time #1 hero. If I was allowed to have an idol, he would be it.

I was a little limited in my selection of photos (not being a digital camera person, myself), but I liked this one that was on my computer from Girls' Week. He is looking inspiring, and I am looking adoring:)

I love you, Daddy!

Literature Prep

I've been working on getting ready for teaching my BRITISH LITERATURE class next year (woooooooohoooooooooooooo!!!). My preliminary preparation has been reading up on the history of England. What a tale! I never took a British History class (shame on me), and things are beginning to click left and right!

"Ohhhh, THAT'S what the 100 year war was! Ohhhhh, THAT'S why Bonnie Prince Charlie should have been king! Ohhhhhh, THAT'S where the word spinster comes from! Ohhhh, THAT'S what "Tudor" and "Stuart" and all that is referring to!"

I love learning things!

But as I'm going through history like that, I have to brace myself for my strange alter-ego tendencies to emerge. I am such a conservative, and such a fan of tradition, that I just side with the Kings and Queens as a matter of course. So I'm reading along about such and such a king that was living in horrible excess, and I get annoyed when Parliament tries to check him! Weird. I really had to stop and get hold of myself when I was siding with the King against the MPs who wanted freedom of religion! Good grief. This conservative thing can go a bit too far. I mean, I'm an American, after all! I DO believe in freedom! So I decided that the Kings were pretty cool, but sometimes they did have some, er, issues.

By the way, I'm doing this study out of "A Children's History of Britain and Wales" or something like that. It's perfect! It's written for older children, who are really supposed to be learning, so there is actually serious content there. But it's not filled with humongous words, dry passages about currencies and such, or political nuances (or blatant agendas). Very nice! More history books should be written that way.

The Homerun Derby!

Oh my WORD!

Okay, remember (those of you who have any kind of maturity of years) the '94 baseball strike? Everyone wondered if baseball had just lost all of its support, if it would ever recover, and all that stuff.

Well, we're talking big-time recovery tonight, boy howdy!!! MLB.com (that would be the Major League Baseball) is streaming the home run derby on the Internet. I'm sitting here typing this blog while I watch it! What could be better?! Who needs cable?! David Ortiz is definitely going to win, that's my prediction.

Baseball. Ahhhhh. What a beautiful thing.

The NE Curse

For those of you who may not read my blog all that much - and even for those of you have picked up on the fact that I kind of like teaching, but haven't yet picked up on other nuances of the Dreweyfern Blog, allow me to enlighten you to the fact that I love New England. I think it is one of the best (if not THE best) places on Earth. It is beautiful - historical - characterful - idiosyncratic in a most endearing way - and pretty much perfect in every possible way.

However (as we learn in the Little Elba song), there has to be something to remind us that this world is not our home, and that we're bound for a more perfect place. New England's particular reminder is mosquitoes.

Daddy set up the hammock: the place of joy and peace and relaxation. Hurrah! However, I kind of forgot (during all those winter months) that evening is not the best time for hammock lounging. I happily read for a little while before noticing my back was kind of itchy. As was my arm. And there were some mosquitoes and mayflies buzzing around. I decided it was time to go inside.

And THERE I discovered that I had not been victim to a bug here or there. I had been absolutely GNAWED upon! I had been out there with a blanket, but the weasely bugs had figured out that they could access my back and arm from the backside of the hammock. I HAD 15 BITES!!! Grrrrr. And some of them were huge! My prize winner is about the size of a quarter.

Being the socialite that I am, I went from family member to family member showing them the monstrosity on my arm, garnering all the sympathy I could. They did a good job being sympathetic. But I needed MORE sympathy. So up to Shawn and Gretchen's I went. Ian let out a particularly gratifying exclamation of awe when he saw the bite. Little boys know all about bad bug bites.

In the famed words from years gone by: poor, poor, pitiful me!

“All that Mattered”

I was glancing through a Guidepost article about Bonhoeffer recently, because it happened to be lying open on the counter at the Brown’s.

[Side note: Isn’t it amazing how God can work through “chance” occurrences like that? So often He will bring just the right thing along at just the right time. It’s like He knows us or something!]

Anyway, as I was reading the article it had a little sentence that ran something like this: “God was all that mattered to him.” I have thought of that SO often since then. That’s what I want to be true of me!

After reading that phrase, the importance of a real, vital relationship was emphasized to me by something I chanced upon on the Internet: some guy’s disillusionment with fake Christianity. I realized that I need to be absolutely real in my Christianity – connected with the source of Life. I can’t rely on past inspiration. I need to be up to date – constantly seeking – constantly getting closer.

[Side note 2: Isn’t it amazing how God brings along something to reinforce the lesson He’s taught, so it’s really cemented? It’s like He knows us or something!]

This summer I have more time than I have during the school year (though I’ll be quite busy preparing next year’s classes!), and I want to make it a summer spent in the pursuit of God. That’s what matters!

The Sanguine and the Melancholic

Last night at about bedtime I decided I wasn’t sleepy. So, anticipating Kimberly’s taking my car to work in the morning, I thought I’d empty all of the junk out of it for cleaning the next day. I had moved all of my stuff up from RI for the summer, but hadn’t unloaded it yet. So I began tackling the job. And it was quite the job! What a mountain of disorganized rubble met my eyes.

My car has a strange leak in it, which means that after there’s a hard rainfall there’s standing water in my car for days. This time the water was beginning to smell stronger than usual. Grim.

I began cleaning up a storm, picking things up and dumping them onto the driveway for transport. But alas, the more things I picked up, the worse the smell became. Uh oh. A bad sign, indeed. This must mean that it was NOT the standing water stinking up the place.

I delved deeper, through a smelly book, some smelly CDs, my smelly jacket (the shoulder was damp – gulp), some smelly potatoes (which were left over from the Girls Week), some smelly flour bags (ditto), and discovered, to my dismay, a Lipton Tea bottle, somewhat damp. Ahhhhhh! One of the girls bought it during Girls’ Week, and it must have leaked out. And WHAT a stench!

So back into the house I went to retrieve dry rags, wet rags, and club soda. After several soakings of various kinds I decided that I’d done all I could do. I began carrying things back into the house. A few loads later, and after I’d hung my smelly coat on the line to air out, I grabbed the potatoes to take into the house.

PEW!

It was then I realized that the potatoes, not the Lipton Tea, had created the problem. Oy VAY! Those things stank. For some strange reason the potatoes had not withstood 5 days in a roasting hot car. Odd. In any case, they were rotting and fermenting to beat the band. Gross potato juice had accumulated in the bottom of the bag, and that what is had leaked into my car. Alas!

I left them, as well as the tainted flour bags, outside, and put the book and CDs on the porch. I left the car windows open to try to air out the car, and decided that I was, finally, ready for bed.

The next morning I came downstairs to find a note on the counter that Kimberly had left before she went to work. It read like this:

Some early morning observations:
1. Found a book and 2 CDs on chair outside on porch
2. Noticed side door was unlocked
3. Fern’s coat on clothes line may get rust on it that way
4. Andrea’s car windows are open
5. Saw bag of potatoes and 2 bags of flour outside downstairs door way.
6. I LOVE MY FAMILY!

I read it, and was somewhat amused, but then, as I thought more about it, I just laughed and laughed. On one hand were my frantic endeavors in the middle of the night, combating decay and ruin in the midst of chaos, and on the other Kimberly’s pristine, unhurried chronicling of the results of my frenzied activity.

What a great juxtaposition! The only thing that might come close to that kind of black and white comparison is the fact that she had time to make such a list on a work morning, where I would be dashing out the door with my hands full of things I couldn’t take time to pack up in my bag.

We certainly are a strange pair. But fortunately, despite our dissimilarities, we have a great time together!

Girls' Week Report

For those who prayed, THANK YOU! It was a stunningly wonderful time. I had a group that was fun, interesting, enthusiastic, cooperative, thoughtful, friendly, and spiritually alive. They all got along with each other, and seemed to enjoy everything I threw at them. They even worked happily! My goodness.

We took trips to Newport, Boston, Wrentham, and Concord, MA. We saw amazing sights! We had an amazing amount of fun!

The girls learned the Virginia Reel, made up skits and radio dramas, sang, laughed, played games they'd never played before, and generally kept themselves beautifully and wholesomely entertained.

We also had some rich times in morning devotions and in the meetings. Our theme was "Intimacy with God," and I think we did more that just talk about it - we deepened our intimacy with Jesus. We had some marked times of hearing the call of God to our hearts. Praise the Lord!

And the most startling part of all, for me, was the fact that I was feeling sad about the week coming to a close. Generally, I have a great time, but I'm exhausted by week's end. This time I was feeling blothpicky about it ending. That was quite new!

Hurrah for Girls' Week 2006!

ps. Well, I valiantly struggled to upload pictures to accompany this post. But I am at Fairwood, and thus am trying to maneuver with dial-up. Sigh. Sorry. Maybe another time...

Girls' Week!

The Girls' Week has officially begun, folks. So no lengthy posts or brilliant essays. Just wanted to pop in to say that it's going SO WELL. Fabulous group of girls - fabulous schedule planned. Huzzah!

I would appreciate any little prayers you might shoot up on our behalf. I really want God's anointing to make it more than just a fun time. And an absence of rain would be just wonderful. Especially on Wednesday when we're going for a hay ride type thing:)

Thanks, all!

Sightseeing in Kentucky! (And Cincinatti, sort of, in an Across the River Kind of Way)

I have become quite enamored of this bridge. I love it! I guess I have a thing for beautiful bridges, like I do for arches. It must point to some deep spiritual truth or something. Anyway, this is fast becoming my second favorite bridge (After the Newport one, of course)!
..


This is beautiful 2nd street. So historic. So lovely. I loved the little gardens in front of each house. They were exquisite. I wish I had a close up shot, but Renee was telling a story and I didn't want to interrupt her any more than I already was:)


...

Here is a cute little arched door we found. It was so very wee!

And lastly, Cincinatti at night. Ahhhhhhh. (Note the beautiful bridge in the foreground!)

Looky Looky! I'm in Cincinnati/Covington

Renee (my wonderful fellow teacher) and I have now arrived at our hotel. It is AMAZING! Here are a few pics of the room itself (Renee is by the window, working diligently). Note the sweet laptop. That's mine:)


.....


Here is the lobby. There is a player piano in the middle of the, um, canopy thing. It's playing tunes as we speak. There is a tile fountain behind it which is hard to see, unfortunately.



.......



Here is the Red's Stadium! I took this picture from my hotel room window.

Woo woo!

So far this conference business is great!

Explanation of Truancy

I'm so sorry I haven't posted for the past couple of days. I even have something I want to write about! But I've just been too jolly busy with social obligations and partay-ing and such. And today I've been preparing for tomorrow's adventure to KENTUCKY (of all places - who goes to Kentucky?) where I'm going to be attending a teaching conference (all expenses paid by the school - what fun!). So, ya, I'm not blogging. But I am taking my laptop to Kentucky, so hopefully I can find a few moments there... But no promises:)

PS. Happy Anniversary to Shawn and Gretchen! One of my all-time favorite couples, for sure.

Day 4: Why the Problems of the World Can't be Solved by Talking

Short Answer:

Because not even the problems between two people can always be solved by talking. How could 6 billion even remotely think of talking it all out?

Long Answer:

When our church was undergoing some, er, tension, back in the mid 90s or so, I had this dream of peace. I would just go up to Pastor X (whoever he may have been) and say "Hey, let's talk..." I would explain how things stood, he would see the light, and all would be well! Sigh. I never did get the opportunity to do so. So much for my saving of the day.

And yet, somehow methinks a little sit-down with all the Pastors Xs in the world would have done little. Because no matter how much I talk, or how loudly, people still have this irritating habit of having their own opinions! And (gasp) talking to me in reply! There was nothing in my scheme of saving the world that included a dialogue. I talk, they see the light, world saved. It's very simple. Bother these people with their own opinions! Obviously what this world needs more of is totalitarian dictatorship. By me of course. Under anyone else disaster would ensue.

Hm. My days of teaching US Government are wafting back to me from the mists of the past. Perhaps a totalitarian dictatorship is not the best plan. Even though I would be an awe-inspiring dictator, I'm sure.

Okay, Plan B: NOBODY should talk about ANYTHING! We should all adopt the "Ostrich Mentality." If there's a problem, ignore it. Bury your head in the sand. You know, the more I learn about the Victorians the more I like them. Not only was Tennyson among them (moment of reverent silence), but they had this method of surviving the tensions of the times which I find refreshing: Muddle Through. Just keep on going, not addressing the tension, and probably somehow things will work out. Or if they don't, at least the results may be ignorable.

There. I think I've solved it. If the problems in the world can't be solved by talking or by dictatorship clearly ostriching is the way to go. Rest easy, dear readers. I have found the answer.

Day 3: The Emergence of the Smiley Face into the World of Punctuation

When I was young, maybe 12 or 18 (I can't remember which), my Grandfather (FSM) told my Father (TFM) that he was impressed by a recent letter I'd written him (FSM). It was well-written without any spelling or grammatical errors.

(I had written the whole letter with a dictionary at my side - I am a terrible speller. It took me years to convince my sister that this was because of some genetic fluke and not because of a low IQ. I am quite sure that some of the great geniuses of the past couldn't spell either. I mean, look at Shakespeare!)

I wonder what my grandfather would think if he could see the e-mails I write now. Terrible punctuation! She keeps putting colons at the ends of sentences, and then closes parentheses on them as if she had opened parentheses earlier in the e-mail. Which she hasn't! What is this younger generation coming to?!

I admit, the whole :) as punctuation thing can be overdone. I have to go back over my comments on other people's blogs to edit for them. I usually put in a ! or a hee hee hee instead. Once in awhile a . will suffice.

But really the merits of the :) as punctuation are notable. Have you ever noticed that it is almost impossible to include inflection in the written word? One simply cannot add a note of humor to a sentence. If you choose the right words you can give the reader a sense of irony or even sarcasm. But the gentle smile? Hard to recreate with the written word. But with the :) all is solved! No fear that a reader will misinterpret your subtle humor.

Note the difference:
- Admit it: it was an excellent movie. (Tone implication: You must bow to my opinion. I am right. And I am therefore superior in every way. You should probably grovel now.)
- Admit it: it was an excellent movie:) (Tone implication: Wasn't I right in recommending the movie? Wasn't it worth your time? Your valuable time? And aren't we chummy?)

The :) has saved me many times. There is no mistaking it. I try to use at least one per comment. Well, okay, I really don't try. They just pop out. But I try not to use them so much in my regular posts since they are very e-mail-esque to me. Although I have caught myself using them when writing with a pen, or even a pencil. I've even put them in my journal.

Hmmm, it's sounding like it's taking on epidemic-like proportions. I'm going to have to watch it.

Also, while I'm talking about inflection (which I was talking about a few paragraphs ago), have you ever noticed that it is impossible to add inflection to something whispered? Try it. Whisper "and her name was?" and then "and her name was." They sound identical! I noticed it when my Mom and I were trying to carry on a conversation in whispers and I thought she was making a statement when really she was asking a question. The dialogue that followed was momentarily reminiscent of Abbot and Costello's "Who's on First?". Remarkable the role that inflection plays in communication.

:)

Day 2: The Stages of Paper Grading (kind of like the stages of grief, only different…)

* Stage One: Optimism

Thought Process: Of course my students learned from the comments I carefully wrote all over the last papers they submitted. I am about to witness the transformation that comes about as a result of my revolutionary teacher comments.

Timing: Right at the beginning of the paper grading process, after just sitting down in an oh-so-comfy chair with a crisp stack of papers in one hand, a pencil in the other, and a mug of cocoa in whichever hand can take the extra load.

Visible: The top cover page in the stack of papers: Title, Date, Name, Teacher's Name

* Stage Two: Disillusionment

Thought Process: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! What is this?! I corrected this exact thing in the last paper! Grrrrrrr.

Timing: While reading the first sentence of the first paper.

Visible: "Ancient Greek literature was written on the risings, apexes, and downfalls of the different cultures and epochs of Greek history."

* Stage Three: Anger

Thought Process: Those kids (grumble grumble). Don’t they know that words mean things?! What in the blooming world are they thinking? Didn’t they ever learn to write?!?!

Timing: All throughout the first several papers.

Visible: Sentences like "Because of the war, peace, community and philosophy written by these great authors, Greece has become what is is today," and "Oedipus at Colonus was written during the High Classical Period when there were a lot of Polynesian wars between Athens and Sparta accompanied by severe Greek civil fighting.

*Stage Four: Resentment

Thought Process: What in the world were their past teachers teaching these kids?! How dare they pass them along into high school with writing abilities like these?!

Timing: Following hard upon stage three’s commencement.

Visible: "This is what Homers next writing encouraged Greece to do to live how they were living like back in the peaceful times of the Minoan era."

*Stage Five: Audible Grumbling

Thought Process: If I complain aloud about the ridiculous errors my kids are making, surely my grumblings will be validated by the poor person occupying this room with me.

Timing: Alongside stages three and four.

Visible: Melissa's sympathetic and kindly patient face.

*Stage Six: Awakening

Thought Process: Hey, these kids aren’t really evil, plotting specifically to ruin my evening. They just don’t have quite the same passion that I do for essay writing. Yet.

Timing: Right after the poor person occupying this room with me says, “Hm. It’s weird to be on the other side of the paper from the ‘I really don’t care, I just want to get this done’ perspective.”

Visible: The folly of my own optimism.

*Stage Seven: Acceptance

Thought Process: --------- (not a lot of thought going on, just a grim determination to get through the stack as efficiently as possible)

Timing: Just after awakening.

Visible: A never-ending stack of, um, 3 more papers (sorry, Chad).

Day 1: Sports and the Human Spirit

"I have long believed that competition in sports is detrimental to the human spirit." So says Debra Herrera in the most recent issue of Reader's Digest. Is she right? Does competition hurt humanity?

Herrera, doubtless, is writing from a totally secular worldview. She probably buys into today’s philosophy that no man is better than any other man, no viewpoint better than any other viewpoint. Thus competition is pointless. My worldview is opposed to such a philosophy. Belief in God means belief that the world was created for God, that there is a right way and a wrong way, that there is absolute truth. And there is something in every man that knows he was made for more than this temporal, fleeting existence. There is something in man that desires God.

So where do sports fit in? Does competition in sports help or hinder this aspect of human nature that ultimately desires God? For the casual on-looker sports may appear to be neutral ground. It neither helps nor hinders man in his search for deeper meaning.

However, to the not casual on-looker it quickly becomes apparent that competition in sports can actually help in man's search for truth, because sports are allegorical of what God has created man for.

Sport, of any kind, demands the best out of its players. There is nothing of today's apathetic, relativistic spirit in sports. To be remembered, to be honored, one must be among the best. The precision and speed and strength demanded of today's top athletes is stunning. Similarly, there is something in the human spirit that is crying out for the best. The culture wants to stifle that, to encourage mediocrity. Christianity says no, there is a best; there is a right and wrong. Where else is that truth reflected in today's culture better than in the sporting world?

Herrera claims that it is the competition in sports that is so detrimental to the human spirit. But that competition - that thing that will pay almost any price to defeat the opposition - is allegorical of what is going on in a cosmic sense all around us. There is a war going on for the hearts of men. It is a life and death struggle. And men must be willing to align with the good against the evil. Yes, the Red Sox and Yankees rivalry is not exactly cosmic, but it certainly illustrates the passionate desire to conquer the enemy. Our culture seeks to blur the lines between good and evil. There are no "bad guys," it says. But rivalry in sports helps to keep alive the all-important idea of good vs. evil.

Lastly, sports promote unity, both among teammates and among fans. There is an instant kinship between people wearing the same sports jersey. There is a common bond that is at its height when the competition is the fiercest. This, too, is allegorical of what God intends in man. God has built into mankind the need for fellowship. What is more strengthening than communion with a fellow-pilgrim of "like precious faith?" Again, sports provide a clear reminder of that truth.

So let us not say that competition in sports is detrimental to the human spirit. Rather sports serve as an allegory to truth - a representation of the world as God has created it. Sports are about striving for the best, overcoming the enemy, and finding unity. These are the things our culture needs more of.

Certainly sports are a very dim reflection of truth. I do not advocate going to sporting events as one would go to church. But God has filled the world with symbols and allegories of Himself. "The heavens declare the glory of God!" Might it not be that other things in the earthly realm declare His glory as well? Sports have been around almost as long as humanity itself. Competition is not new. There is something there that is part of the human spirit. And I propose that competition is a part of the human spirit in order to remind man, in however small a way, of what he should be in this cosmic struggle.

Summer Time = Post Time!

Okay, here's the deal. I just want to write! So I'm going to write.

I want to try posting a post every day this week (starting tomorrow) about random subjects that go beyond just what's going on in my life. Okay? Okay. Here we go.

(This may not last past tonight, just to warn you.)

Last Day!!!!!!!

Today was my last day of teaching. One year complete. Wow. God is so good. I LOVE TEACHING!

And then I came home, exhausted, after cleaning out my room for TWO hours. I was up in my room when Uncle Paul called up, "Ummm, Andrea, I think you have a flat tire." "Oh," I said. I wasn't really computing, since my mind was on a project I was working on, and I am kind of used to random things going wrong with my car. "And I think there's a dent in your fender." "Oh," I said. "Do you want to come confirm?" he asked. Oh, I got it at last. I was supposed to go down and look.

Down I went, and Uncle Paul greeted me with a "I know you didn't really need this right now..." And he opened the door to the great outdoors.

AND THERE WERE LINDSAY, AMY, KATIE, CRAIG, AND KIMBERLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They came down to party with me in celebration of my completed first year of school!

Sooooo, I can't write right now, must go party.

PS. I feel SO loved. It's amazing. I have the world's best friends!

What Does it Mean?!

Has anyone else noticed the recent rash of Princess Bride allusions in the blog-o-sphere?! It's been on Karena's blog, Aaron's blog (via Meredith's comment), and Craig's blog. And now it's on my blog! The Princess Bride is EVERYWHERE! I think it's a sign. A good omen, as it were. I mean, it might be a bad omen, but how could a movie that classic be a bad omen? So it must be a good omen (I might be teaching logic next year, can you tell?).


So I'm wondering if there is any way to analyze and interpret this phenomenon. What can it all mean? There must be some deep, cosmic reason for it. Any ideas?

Perhaps there is an adventure in store, and we are being prepared for it: some adventure of revenge and betrayal and pursuit and love and courage. Or maybe someone is going to be poisoned and this is the cosmic warning. Maybe we've reached the saturation point for bad news in the world and our coping mechanism includes dwelling on fairy tales. Maybe we are just due for a laugh. Maybe the end of the world is at hand! Hmmm, anyone have any creative ideas?

Wheeeeee!

I'm typing this post on my brand new laptop!!! It's beautiful! It's speedy! It's fun! It's mine!

All year I've had in mind the fact that eventually I'll have to stop bumming off the Brown's computers, and finally, when my family decided we'd put our England trip off for a year (which meant I had money in the bank) the time was right. So Shawn scouted out the best possibilities on-line, and Gretchen went to town and brought home MY LAPTOP!

I'm having such fun personalizing it. First, Shawn helped me go through the initial business of putting in your name and agreeing to something-or-other in the Terms & Conditions. But NOW I get to do the more fun personalizing.

First things first, of course. I set Google as my homepage:) Then I zipped over to Webshots.com to get beauuuuutiful pictures for my background. Then I downloaded itunes. And now I'm blogging! My next step will be to start adding people's blogs to my favorites list:) What fun to have my OWN favorites list, and not be just a folder on someone else's (a very kind someone else, at that) computer.

YIPPEEEEEE!!!!

Blessings upon the heads of Shawn and Gretchen. Boy oh boy, did Gretchen every marry well:)

Emily Would Be Proud!

Yesterday, in our poetry unit, we read Emily Dickinson's fabulous poem, "I'm nobody, who are you?" If you aren't familiar with the poem, google it right away. It's so charming!


Anyway, I taught the class second period, and the day progressed as usual. Then, at the very end of the day, as the kids were coming from their classrooms and heading to the end of the hall to wait for their parents, I saw one of my students accosted by a younger student in a silly mood.

"Who are you?" asked the younger student, feigning amnesia, or something.
"I'm nobody, who are you?" responded my student with a knowing look toward me.

WOW!!! I have an 8th grade boy quoting Emily Dickinson!!! My little heart swelled with joy as I acknowledged his wit.

I love teaching!

(PS. Tomorrow is the last day of classes for the high school. We're going to be partying like crazy... With "Ice Age" and chocolate!)

(PPS. Happy Birthday to my nephew, Michael, who is six today! He holds an inexpressibly precious place in my heart. I love you, Misha!)

Another World...

I have just returned home from Florida, and have this weird feeling that I was in a strange and amazing dream-world, or even parallel universe, for the past couple of days.

In this parallel universe, that had almost zero relation to most of my life, except for some of the principle characters, I was in blazing sunshine, on green grass, next to the blue, blue ocean. I was surrounded by a host of friends almost non-stop (you can't get much more blissful than that in my book!). With these friends I was playing volleyball on the beach and watching the sun set over the ocean and going out to eat and bowling and playing games and talking and laughing a lot. And burying treasure in the sand, of course.

Oh ya, and two of the said friends were married! (Small detail there...) They were married in a beautiful, meaningful ceremony that celebrated the sanctity of what they were embarking on. And the music was killer (hee hee hee). I rejoice in the goodness of God, in bringing Jeff and Fritha together, and I trust for His continued blessing on them!

Most of you have probably already seen DJ's post w/ its link to an abundance of pictures (good job, Steph!). If you haven't, check it out!

Teaching Poetry

I'm teaching a wonderful poetry unit to the 7th and 8th grade now. I am discovering that junior high is not exactly the time when one's literary analysis skills are at their peak. This is good news for college professors, but it makes for some interesting moments for me. I love teaching middle school - I'm just discovering that I have to teach on a very basic level. There are some moments where light dawns. Those are wonderful and exciting moments in my teaching world. They usually happen with the 7th grade girls. The 8th grade boys are much more literal. Note the juxtaposition of these two classes last Friday.

7th Grade Girls

Me: So, girls, what do you think of this Raven in Poe's poem? What do you think it could represent?
Girl #1: Maybe death?
Me: Okay, good! We know that someone has died, and the narrator is thinking about that a lot. What else? Why do you think he asks the Raven questions that have such sad answers, when he knows the raven will answer that way?
Girl #2: OH! Maybe he WANTS to keep on feeling sad! He doesn't want to be happy!
Me: Exactly! He is so sad about the person who has died that he thinks the grief will last forever! Good! So now what do you think the Raven stands for?
Girl #1: sadness!
Me: Very good!

8th Grade Boys

Me: So, guys, what do you think of this raven in Poe's poem?
Boy #1: I don't get why he's stuck with it forever.
Boy #2: Ya, why doesn't he just shoo it out the window?
Boy #3: Or hit it with a broom or something?
Boy #1: He could move to a different house!
Boy #3 (with an evil glint in his eye and a sly grin which I instantly and accurately interpreted as the look associated with guns) OR, he could SHOOT it!
Me: Umm, well that's true... But maybe Poe didn't really want to write about a literal talking bird. Maybe he was using the bird as a symbol... (My voice fades as I look nervously at the clock).

I love teaching!!!

Qualifications on Nature Loving

(Editor's note: I may be mixing two nature stories together here. But hey, it makes for a better story.)

As the weather turns warmer, more and more of America is pouring out of doors to enjoy the sunshine. I happily joined them, recently, taking my blanket in one hand, my books and notebooks in the other, and traipsing out to the lawn to do lesson plans in the presence of Nature. I sat down and began to work.

Hm. I kept having to switch positions. The ground was really quite hard. No sofa cushions in the grass here. And no back of the easy chair to lean against either. I had to hold myself up, and try to keep my legs from falling asleep. Wheeee. Nature.

And I seemed to have plunked myself down right in one of those ant paths. I had to keep flicking the things off of me. And sometimes they would crawl in between my toes and suddenly feel intimidated and randomly bite me. Grrrr.

And THEN I looked down and saw that my book was covered in tiny little reddish brown bugs that hopped when you touched them. I quickly realized that if they were covering my book, they could be covering everything else in sight, too. That would include me. Ahhhhhh! I sprang to my feet and forsook nature. Enough was enough!

Nature is full of bugs and hardness and crawly things (oh, I forgot to mention the spider that was on me!) and sun in the eyes and probably many more gross and annoying things that I didn't even detect. Blah on nature.

However, the call of the sunshine is a strong one. So I got a rocking chair from the porch and carried it out in the grass to a place I could put my feet up on a convenient rock. I will enjoy nature on my own terms (a. comfort, b. no wildlife near my person), thank you very much.

Sigh. Thoreau would never have approved of me.

Just a Small Grammatical Note

(or a large one, as the case may be...)

A LOT IS TWO SEPARATE WORDS!!!

...A................LOT

ALWAYS

.

Okay, my tyrannical inner grammarian is appeased...for now.

Ahhhhh.....

I hope nobody checked this blog in the past 5 minutes, because I accidentally posted only the title. Oh well -- it pretty much says it all anyway.

Right now I am sitting on the couch in our den with four sleeping puppies in my lap, watching the Red Sox winning over the... well, you know who... and I'm NOT WORRYING ABOUT SCHOOL!!! How much better can life get? I have NOTHING due! I keep thinking, "I should be painti... no....I should be resear... no... studyi.... no..." NOTHING! After my math exam today I joined Lisa in that Universal Grin of Release. I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh, or cry, or scream, or jump, or what... but oh man, what a spring in my step! (especially after returning my 10 or so spoot library books that I'm so sick of looking at)

Hopefully I will post more soon after being cut off from all civilization for a while, but I do actually have to go to bed earlyish tonight... I have an intense faculty vs. student art department volleyball match tomorrow, and I have to be in prime shape.

Life is good.

Community Living

RI is, as you all know, the smallest state in the union. And yet, it's not as if a short stroll will take you from one side to the other. I drive an hour to get to work! But little by little I am becoming more familiar with the state, its highways and byways, its quirks, its people (who might fall under the category of quirks in some cases).

But last week I experienced a moment that brought the state into focus as a cheery neighborhood full of dear friends. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but hey, it sounded good. In any case, I did have one of those bonding-with-strangers moments that makes me so happy.

I was in the McDonald's drive-through (getting a fruit and yogurt parfait - yum!), stopped and waiting for my food, while listening to sports radio (now THERE is a subject for another whole blog - I love sports radio!). All of a sudden it was as if my radio had gone into surround sound or something. Huh? And then I realized that the Fed-Ex truck that had pulled up nearby was also blaring sports radio! Yay! We were so of one mind!

It reminds me of the time Lindsay started singing a song in the car, and the lady next to us at the stoplight sang the next line! Or when I walked out of the main house singing a song about summer, and a voice wafted down from up near the women's dorm with the next line. Or Claire's recent sneezing story on her blog. So many nice things that bring people together.

Oh! I thought of another one! I was sitting at a stoplight waiting to go, and there was an advanced green for the people coming our way. There was an elderly driver next to me who assumed his light must be green if theirs was, and he went! The car behind him drew up beside me, looked over at me, and shrugged in a mystified and amused way.

Of course, then there are the times in which the whole world seems to be a community, but you are on the outside. Okay, I really only have one example of this. Yesterday I was driving home from work, and suddenly realized that I hadn't gotten hung up in traffic yet, even though I was at the place where traffic usually slows. And then it began to be uncanny. There was no one going under the speed limit in the fast lane! What was going on?! People kept moving into the slow lane when I gained on them. What?! I began to wonder if there was some weird conspiracy going on. Where were all those people who go 60 in a 65? Was there some state-wide event everyone but me knew about? The mystery was never cleared up. I guess it was just a light day for traffic. Strange. But I'll take it!

MA Tax Dollars Put to Excellent Use

Last night saw the first Sox/Yankees game of the season. Big news. Also, it saw the Johnny Damon, now in pinstripes, playing against his old team. Even bigger news. But all of that was overshadowed by one of the most exciting/unusual outside-the-game moments I've seen in baseball.

Tim Wakefield is a knuckleball pitcher, and knuckleballs are really hard to catch. The new catcher was having fits trying to hold onto the pitches. It was starting to be a real problem. So yesterday, the Red Sox re-acquired Wake's catcher from last year: Doug Mirabelli.

Problem: Mirabelli was in San Diego when the deal went through. And Wakefield was pitching that night. Thus the mad dash.

Doug jumped on a plane and flew across the country (and three time zones), landing at Logan Airport at 6:48. The game was scheduled for a 7:05 start. A police cruiser was waiting (here's where the tax dollars come in), traffic was stopped, and Doug flew through the streets at maximum speeds (the radio guys said 100 mph, but I don't know if they were being literal or not). Doug's uniform was in the vehicle, and he arrived at Fenway all suited up, and ready to catch Wakefield, a little after 7:00. How dramatic!

The Red Sox beat the Yankees 7-3, and Doug didn't allow any passed balls.

[Bonus info: Veritek was going to catch if Doug didn't make it in time, and the back-up pitcher (in case anything happened to Veritek) was going to be Alex Cora. Cora is a utility infielder. He said he hadn't played catcher since he was 14 years old. But he wasn't worried. Instead he gamely pointed out that that was what 'utility' meant! I thought that was so cool!]

This morning the radio guys were arguing about whether Mirabelli should have had the police escort. Feel free to leave opinions on the matter if you so desire (I'm sure you can't guess where I stand).