Why I'm Voting for John McCain

*National Security - I trust McCain's experience and perspective in the War on Terror.

*Social Issues - McCain is on the right side of issues such as abortion and marriage.

*Economy - McCain is not into big government, or "spreading the wealth around."

*Supreme Court Nominations - McCain wants judges who will interpret the Constitution (which is, by the way, their job), not engage is social activism from the bench.

*Wicked Fun Times - Because of John McCain I had one of the most exhilarating times of my life attending a political rally at which McCain and Curt Schilling appeared! I couldn't believe I was actually seeing JOHN MCCAIN right THERE in FRONT OF ME! Oh the cheers, screams, yells, dancing, sign waving, pom-pom rustling, jumping, and camaraderie. HURRAH! GO MCCAIN!

*More Wicked Fun Times - Also because of John McCain I had an awesome time sign waving with Craig and Sarah and the Bible School in Keene - cheering and yelling till we were hoarse. And the awesome thing was the response we got! SO many people honking and smiling, giving thumbs up and even yelling support out the windows. And so many of them young!! And so many of them in cammo:) Yeah! People are smarter than the media lets on! HURRAH! GO MCCAIN!

Teaching Ups and Downs

Soooo, I got talked to about classroom control again last week. It was a blow because I thought I was doing so much better. I was pretty discouraged for awhile, making wild threats about quitting and such (in my head only, of course... and maybe to Mama too). Of course, simultaneous with the threats was the knowledge that I'd be over it in a little bit, and right back to loving teaching.

I tightened things up a bit, and got comments from my students about being mean and such ("hey, can you say that a little louder so the headmaster can hear?"), but the end result was that I was able to lead some interruption-free, awesome discussions in class this week!

In British Literature I had one of those rare and treasured moments where one of my kids will suddenly be in awe of the writing, after we've unearthed an underlying meaning or something. "Why don't people write books like that anymore?" he asked. I agreed with the sentiment.

In Classical Literature we had a class-long debate about whether Achilles is really changed at the end of The Iliad, or if he's the same old heartless being. They were really into the debate, pulling in all kinds of evidence from the text. I had three things on the agenda that day, and we didn't even get through the first one. This made my teacherly heart sing for joy (to adapt a Sarah-ism).

In Algebra, it came to light that my most advanced student had caught up to the lower level of the grade above. He got moved up. I was really happy about this because the lower level of the grade above consists of kids I'd had the year before, and I felt a bit on the spot in light of the fact that they're struggling so badly. So I was glad that at least I hadn't failed with this kid (let's not talk about the fact that he's naturally really good at math). However, this kid, who has a fabulous sense of humor, decided that I'd moved him because I didn't like him, and he went on and on about it. He stood at my podium and said, in a high-pitched voice, "Oh students, you're so wonderful! Oh. Except you, Josh. Just leave."

And then, in journalism, when I had them write a story about how Miss Murray beat up a burglar attempting to steal something from her apartment, he wrote the following:

"Last night, at approximately 10:30pm, Miss Murray mercilessly attacked and pummeled a burglar in her apartment using only a mag light, because the thief was trying to [recover] a lost valuable. The burglar, a Mr. Josh W___ was found by police after Miss Murray fled the scene. Following a three hour car chase during which the suspect used a jet ski, a motorcycle, and eventually a helicopter, she was brought into custody. [During questioning] the information she reported was shocking.

Miss Murray was at her apartment to stow a treasure of incredible value: Josh's joy. She had stolen it earlier that day by sending him to a different algebra class, straining his joy into a physical entity which she placed in a box. Josh had broken in to recover his lost joy, but was beaten, and lost his Random spirit to Miss Murray's box that contains his still missing joy..."

Haha. I love teaching:) Full of great learning moments and great humor moments. So the downs ended in ups galore, and I will refrain from submitting my resignation... Until next time I get talked to... At which time other things will again remind me how much I love it... More ellipses... The end...

I'm Teaching Again

It's been far too long. Time for a blogging renaissance!

How about some amusing blips from my school days recently:

*Yesterday one of my students made a very clever pun on a word that I don't use... Which he very well knows. I said, "See, that was really funny, but now I can never repeat it!" And he said, "Miss Murray, you make conservatives look like wack-o liberals." Hahahaha.

*This week a student was reading a passage and cleverly switching words to their opposites, or to the opposite of a related word. He gave just the right amount of pause before he did it, and suddenly I was laughing... and laughing... and laughing... and crying... and laughing. When I'd finally regained control, I discovered one student had captured the whole thing on video on his digital camera. The reading student asked me what that was all about and I responded, "That was a combination of a leeetle bit of humor and a looooot of fatigue."

*The students were discussing the rare phenomenon of one of the teachers being in a realllly good mood. Then one of them said, "Hey! That was the day Miss Murray was being evil!" "Yeah, we switched," I said. By "evil," he meant "telling them their behavior was abysmal, and they'd better sharpen up and start taking their education seriously." Whew. Serious evil-osity.

*My 7th grade boys have an uncanny fascination with violence. I had them re-write a passage from Jane Eyre using a different perspective, and he wrote about Jane's friend's child. The child and his mother went to visit Jane (that took about 1 paragraph) and on the way home they were attacked by wild Indians (a rare phenomenon in Victorian England) and killed. Nice.

*Now I want to go eat breakfast and enjoy Katie's company. Tata! :)

The Michael Phelps - 19th c American Lit Connection

I have been enjoying the Olympics immensely, as I do every time. My sleeping habits are ridiculous, but hey, they only happen every 4 years! (Well, every 2, but you know what I mean.) I've found the Michael Phelps story the most exciting - especially with the 4X1 relay and last night's 100 Butterfly. Oy vay!! It's awesome to see someone going after excellence the way he is - and it's awesome that he seems like a nice person instead of some show-off that you secretly hope will fail. Go Phelps!

But you know what I think is the coolest? I love that in order to break the Mark Spitz record he has to depend, to some degree, on his teammates. He couldn't have tied it without Lezak and that incredible come-back against the French. And he won't be able to break it without the help of his teammates in tonight's relay. I think that's awesome.

Instead of the individual doing it completely on his own, there is a dependence on his fellow man.

It brings back American Lit class with Dr. Barbour. Franklin and Emerson had this exalted idea of the individual, and how he could do anything he wanted to, and be as perfect as he wanted to, on his own strength.

Melville, Poe, and Hawthorne begged to differ. Their writing shows the weaknesses and sin of the individual, highlighting the need for fellowship and for something beyond himself to save him.

As I sat in class, and heard that some people believed you could never really connect with your fellow man, I was scared. I decided to side with the Melville, Poe and Hawthorne school of thought because I desperately wanted it to be true that "We are connected to our fellow man by a thousand natural fibers" (Melville).

But then I realized that I didn't have to wish they were right... they were right! God created us for fellowship as part of the Body of Christ! I was so relieved.

And in Phelps' quest for the most gold medals in a single Olympics there is a picture of that.

Man cannot make it on his own. He needs God most of all, obviously (which, after the butterfly last night, I'm inclined to think Phelps has! Haha). But he also needs his fellow man. Coooool!

As I was saying this in a condensed and unrelated-to-American-Lit form to Gretchen, she said, "Andrea, you're cute." I was indignant.

"I am NOT cute!" I protested. "I'm..." and I searched for the right philosophical/literary term to describe my insight.

"Adorable!" Michael piped up.

Hee hee hee. Yeah. That's right.

We Went to Maine

This year's family vacation was to Maine! We spent three days up there, sightseeing and yardsaling. Way fun!

Wednesday was Pike's Island day. We went to Casco Bay, and took a ferry out to the island. We then started gallivanting about on foot. Yes, foot. It turns out the island is a lot bigger in real life than it was on the piece of paper. We were mighty weary by the end. But it was well worth it, and we saw some beeeooootiful views.



That night we stayed in a wicked nice hotel that Mom had somehow secured for free (some credit card points thing?). She's amazing. We were very impressed with it. And had fun relaxing there that evening.



Thursday we saw some sweet lighthouses and Longfellow's childhood home! It was awesome! My favorite lighthouse name was definitely Bug Light. Haha.



But Longfellow's home was my favorite part. I learned lots, and officially love Longfellow. I enjoyed celebrating his two hundredth birthday last year with my students, and I can't wait to tell them I saw his house!



Friday was yardsaling day and I made out like a bandit! I found everything from school supplies, to lit books, to brand new JJill clothes, to a wastebasket for the living room in our apartment. Yahoooo! Also fun was meeting the Randalls, who were also yardsaling:) Yay!



Maine was officially great! (Which reminds me of a conversation Craig and I just had, which reminds me to rejoice all over again that CRAIG IS HOME!!!!!)

Another Humorous Murray Moment

The other night Gretchen was down again, looking through home school stuff, and getting me to write out a copy of the poem listing the kings of England that I'd made my Brit Lit students memorize.

Willie, Willie, Harry, Steve,
Harry, Dick, John, Harry Three,
Edward One, Two, Three, Dick Two,
Harry Four, Five, Six, then who?
Etc.

Dad and Mom were reading, meanwhile, and Kimberly was working on a summer assignment for her ESL course. She interrupted our various reveries to say that she was supposed to give a report of how she liked the course, and she was just going to say it was good, even though she hated it and they were a bunch of liberal nitwits (to borrow a phrase from Karen's husband).

We all shrieked in protest and said that she should raise the issues that she had with the class. Suddenly, Dad broke out into Shakespearean poetry.

"Stiffen the sinews! Summon up the blood! Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect."

Gretchen, in full agreement, chimed in with "Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel!"

Mama, not to be outdone, cried, "Listen my children and you shall hear!"

And I, saving the best for last, bleated, "Willie, Willie, Harry, Steve!"

I think Kimberly was very inspired, and found the courage to raise the issues after all. A day well spent. Poetry rocks.

The Long-Awaited Tale of How Gretchen is the Hero of the (my) Universe

If you will, please recall the post I wrote concerning the computer store. Place yourself back in that environment, and hear my voice breaking into the largeness to say that I was not exactly rolling in wealth, and would like an assessment before any work was done.

Now move forward several days to my phone ringing in the living room. I pick it up to hear that my computer is ready, the problem sort of fixed, and the bill $120.

Gulp.

I drove into Keene already frustrated with some plans that had fallen through, and had an annoying time running a couple of errands. Needless to say I was not in the best frame of mind for arriving at the computer store. I walked in to find only the little man. That was one break, anyway. He proceeded to tell me that my computer was fixed, and would no longer randomly blink off... unless I tipped it sideways or picked it up from underneath.

??

He then wanted to demonstrate that it would still work when I picked it up from the sides. He booted it up, picked it up, and all was well. Well that was good - at least something was working right.

But then he also felt it necessary to show me that it would freeze/blink off if I tipped it. He tipped it. Sure enough it froze. Greeeat. But THEN he wanted to show me that it would also do that if picked up from underneath.

In case you aren't keeping track, that meant that I was standing there over the course of THREE boot-ups of the computer. And mine doesn't exactly zip through the speed up process. So all I want to do is get out of there, and instead I'm standing there watching my problematic computer have clock-work-like problems.

FINally, after carefully writing down FOUR possible anti-virus/anti-spyware programs I might want to look into, he released me.

I trudged to my car and went home. I stopped by Gretchen's to drop off a gallon of milk, and told her what had happened. She was very annoyed on my behalf. It is good to have siblings who will support you in your angst.

Then I popped by the garage to drop off Kimberly's car (I'd borrowed it to take, but Gerry was going to be doing some work on it), and met Gerry coming down the hill. We were about to carry on a conversation when my hair got stuck in Kimberly's rear-view mirror decor, and I absolutely blew up in one long roared "THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!!!!!!"

Gerry said something along the lines of "Hmmm, maybe this isn't the best time to ask you if you'll do the children's part of 9:00 hour tomorrow..." Hahahahaha :)

Then Gretchen came along and explained that I'd just paid a lot of money for not really getting my computer fixed, and without an assessment ahead of time. Gerry looked properly shocked and horrified. He's the best!

I went home and decided to read my troubles away in the hammock (that will cover a multitude of sins!).

But then I heard Gretchen call from her house to Shawn, who was in the garden, "I'm going to save the day!" Or something like that. And suddenly I looked at the leaves above me with a wild surmise. Was it possible?!

Sure enough, my phone rang. It was Gretchen. "I'm going in to Keene to get your money back. Want to come?" I leapt from the hammock in amazement and ran into the house for my shoes.

As I got into the car my interrogation began. She explained. She'd called the computer store and asked for the (loud) boss, but discovered he wasn't there. It was still the small man by himself. So she said, "Well, we have a problem... " and explained how things were and said "I think we need to come get her money back." And he said, "I'll be here until 5:30."

WOWZER!

As we zipped in I said I did NOT want to go in, I was just along for the ride. My non-confrontational nature wanted nothing to do with going in there and accusing him (more or less) of robbing me blind (is that the expression? I wonder why? Why blind? Anyway...). I even mentioned the possibility of being dropped off a block down the road in case he should see me out the window. It was, after all, besides being a confrontational situation, a little embarrassing that I needed my sister to do my dirty work for me...

I ended up sitting in the parking lot after all, while Gretchen went in. Imagine my incredible consternation when all of a sudden I heard Gretchen's voice calling from the door "We're having a great time in here! You should come in!"

WHAT?!?! She had just revealed my presence in the car to the very man I was hiding from! What was she thinking! I slinked down a little in my seat in horror, and hoped she wouldn't be too much longer.

About 10 minutes later she called out AGAIN. "Andrea, you really should come in - we're having a great time!" OH MY WORD. I called up Kimberly in my desperation. "What is she doing?!?" She pointed out that she was probably just in social mode, which I saw was probably true. But oh my word. Then I saw her come out of the store WITH HIM. I thought I would melt away and die on the spot. I slunk down realllly low, and she got into the car as I was saying to Kimberly "Stay on the line with me in case he comes over!" hoping that he would see I was engaged in conversation and couldn't chat. Fortunately there was no need, the man was just coming out to remove the open sign.

So as I said goodbye to KJ and we cleared the parking lot I said "What in the world were you doing?!?!" She was horrified to find out how mad I was, and hastened to explain. She thought I didn't want to come in because I didn't want to embarrass him (which was true, partly), and when she saw how well the conversation was going, and that he was a Christian, and that he insisted upon our taking all the money, even though were were willing to leave some (she finally did talk him into taking a little), and that the random call I got from the loud boss requesting me to remind him of the problem (um, it clicks off every two seconds, pal, didn't you notice that?) was supposed to be the call giving me the estimate, and that he felt terrible about it, she realized that the coast was clear and amicable should I desire to come in for reconciliation. By the time I heard all of that all was well in my soul, I was giggling, and I didn't even mind that she'd invited him to church:)

PHEW!

So let's recap: I got totally gypped, just like all girls are supposed to be in mechanical situations, and my big sister jumped into the fray and got me my money back! Hurrah for HER! She already was my hero - but now I have even more evidence of her heroism.

From "The Mill on the Floss" by George Eliot (who was a woman)

He had small opinion of Saladin, whose scimitar could cut a cushion in two in an instant; who wanted to cut cushions? That was a stupid story, and he didn't care to hear it again. But when Robert Bruce, on the black pony, rose in his stirrups, and lifting his good battle-axe, cracked at once the helmet and the skull of the too hasty knight at Bannockburn, then Tom felt all the exaltation of sympathy, and if he had had a cocoa-nut at hand, he would have cracked it at once with the poker.

Just a Quickie

Today I was home alone, and had home-owners paranoia. I was about to drive out with Katie, but asked if we could swing by my house just to make sure I turned the fan off... Anyway, this paranoia lingered a bit into the night. I was just sitting at my desk when I caught something strange out of the corner of my eye. A glowing thing on the lawn. FIRE?! Noooo, not moving. (phew) OH! It was the orange-y moon, reflecting in the swamp! Very cool.

So I bet you're wondering where Katie and I were going, aren't you? Well, I will tell you. We went to a free concert at the Dublin School! It was given by tenor vocalist Issachah Savage, a ha-UGE black man (all good tenors are huge, aren't they?) who, we discovered, is the possessor of an incredible voice. We heard Greek folk songs and Elizabethan songs and Spirituals (never have I heard a Spiritual so authentically sung), and he ended with an encore of Amazing Grace, inviting the audience to join in. A fabulous Sabbath evening! It reminded me a little of the concerts we went to in Jerusalem... minus the view. Anyway, we went on a chance, and discovered a gem.

And I bet you're still wondering about Gretchen's heroism, aren't you! But this is to be a quickie, so you'll have to just wait a leeeeeetle longer.

The Computer Store: A Character Study

Soooooo, my computer has been very sketchy lately - randomly popping off in the middle of my work and such. At first it just turned itself off if I moved it, but then it started doing it with disturbing regularity whether I moved it or not. So I decided it was time for drastic measures. I drove it to the computer store in Keene. Katie (oh joy! oh delight!) accompanied me (I'm really glad she's home from Israel!).

We walked in and found ourselves in a small, dark room, strewn with computers and partial-computers. The walls had various computer articles, comic strips, and strange cartoon/anime type figures.

As our eyes adjusted to the dim interior we discovered two men to be present. The one closest to the door boomed out a greeting of some kind. He did not stop booming for the next 20 minutes or so, until we had safely retreated to our car. He was a large man, with a large mouth, and very large opinions that he largely expressed to the world. He should live in Brooklyn, methinks. He bellowed on about hating Mondays (due to how well the margaritas went down the night before...), his wife's finally being off crutches, his tomato wine recipe, and a little about computers and how honest he is.

The other man took a little noticing, because he was, in comparison, small. He was a little shorter than I am, and much, much quieter. He puttered about looking for parts for Katie's computer while the large man roared about how much more cheaply he could sell it than other people. The small man couldn't find the part, and retired to the corner of the shop to quietly see what he could discover online.

Meanwhile, the large man got a phone call. Ahhh, a reprieve, thought Katie and I. Not so. It was a telemarketer, and our large subject is not a fan of telemarketers. I have never heard a person so very abused by another person. Sworn at, yes. Yelled at, yes. But thoroughly scalded in such a manner? Wow. Katie and I vainly pretended to be carrying on a conversation about Turkey, but there was still a very awkward pause when the large man ceased his venomous attack and slammed the phone down.

The quiet man, reluctant to break into our pretend conversation, for fear of asserting himself where he was not wanted, waited for a pause in our discourse to let us know the approximate price of the part she needed.

The large man then burst in with his opinion on the part, and of the allusion to ebay, and we thanked everyone (several times, because they were loath to let us go - the large man sad to lose his captive audience, the small man sad to lose anyone who free him from being the captive audience), and sidled out the door as fast as we could without being too abrupt.

We got back to the car laughing to ourselves, and I thought, "This would be great to blog about." Thank goodness for small men, no matter what their size, is what I have to say!

And I need to blog soon about how Gretchen is the HERO OF THE UNIVERSE! (Or at least of my universe!)

LOOK! I'M BLOGGING!

However, I did have to ask Kimberly how to get to the place where you write on your blog because I couldn't remember. That's sad. Also sad is that my last post was on MAY 7! Oy vay. Gretchen said she doesn't even check it anymore, but Daddy said he checks it repeatedly. "I keep seeing the funniest thing you've ever heard, or whatever it was."

"Which was funny!" Gretchen affirmed.

Anyway, I'm starting small here, as I get back into this... I'm just going to report three funny quotes that were uttered in our house recently.

The first came when Danny came down to pick up his boys who'd been playing at our house. There was a softball game scheduled for the evening, but thunder clouds were fast building.

"It's going to be a great softball game!" I said.
"Yeah. Struck by lightning in centerfield," he replied. "He's going back... back... ZAP! He's GONE!"

The second came last night when I came traipsing down the stairs from my room, and told my family "You lucky people, you! I have been smitten with the desire to sing!" As I was sailing on by to go downstairs to the piano, Mama said, "That's nice, dear! Can you shut the door as you go by?"

(She actually meant the door to the porch, but it certainly was great timing.)

The third came this evening when Mama came in wondering where her duster was. "Do you girls have it upstairs?" "Ha!" I responded. "I haven't dusted since the Fall! ...of man, that is."

So really I'm just posting this to show the world that I was funny. But other people's funniness preceded it, and I was reading Ann Coulter, so I was well prepped.

In fact, Daddy, KJ, Gretchen and I are all here reading (well, I was right before I got onto blogger), and we keep reading favorite lines to each other.

Gretchen is reading "The Politically Incorrect Guide to Western Civilization," which I just picked up with Dad at Borders today. We went together so he could pick out his birthday present and that was what he selected. I was in the store looking at the cover, and reading down the list of things "your college professor didn't tell you." I was reading along and thinking, "MINE told me that!" when I got to the bottom of the list and saw the author's name: Anthony Esolen. Wait a minute! That WAS my college professor!! Sure enough, I flipped it over and saw "An English Professor at Providence College..." I started squeaking and jumping up and down in Borders I was so excited. Fortunately Dad recommended that I take it easy before I made a complete spectacle of myself:) It was SO COOL! Now everyone go buy the book - it's AWESOME. Gretchen has read aloud some very funny things already, and Katie was reading it out loud to me earlier while she was waiting for me to finish up so we could go to Keene and get our computers fixed together... But that's a story for another day. I'm supposed to be starting small here!

Yay! That was fun! I should post more often. I love summertime!

Pretty Much the Funniest Thing I've Heard All Year

"We Brits like to laugh at ourselves. By 'laugh' I mean 'conquer.' And by 'ourselves' I mean 'everyone else.'"

When Teachers Get Sick...

So Tuesday I started getting sniffly and sneezy during school, and when I got home things progressed from bad to worse. Nonetheless, I persevered and worked on cleaning my room and doing laundry until I headed for bed. In the night, there was no more persevering. I was sick, sick, sick.

I hate it when I have to call in sick.

The biggest pain is that I have to think up creative things for my students to do while I'm not there - things that can be overseen by our longsuffering headmaster or his longsuffering wife. (We do not have a substitute teacher system for these occasions, you see...) And when one is sick, one is not inclined to much creativity. I was unusually sick, what's more, and could hardly bear the thought of getting out of bed to access my school materials across the room. And that's only 4 steps or so. Oy vay. But time was ticking, there were only about 10 minutes left before school would start, and I neeeeeded to get those lesson plans in. So up I got, and retrieved the materials. I sent in instructions for silent reading, picture drawing (oy vay), and such, and collapsed back onto my pillow. OY VAY I was sick! (Why do I love talking about how sick I was when nobody really wants to know? Typical human self-centeredness, I suppose. But hey, I was reallllly sick.)

That first day I could function about zero. I just slept and listened to the radio. At one point I flipped the radio on and heard this: "When teachers are sick, their students suffer. They sit in school getting dumber by the minute while their teachers are home doing nothing. It's totally evil when teachers get sick. How dare they." Okay, that wasn't it exactly, but it DID talk about how it hurts the students when teachers get sick. I was WRACKED with GUILT. I tried to stand and hobble to my car, but fell down in a dead faint by the door. When I came to, I went back to bed. Oh my word, what is my problem? That wasn't true either. The only true part was a tad bit of guilt. Anyway, it was some health care commercial or something... As if I could have avoided the flu if I'd had a blue cross blue shield card in my wallet...

By day 2 I could actually check email and such, and what I found warmed the cockles of my heart. An email from one of my girls was full of well-wishing and advice ("Drink lots of fluids and get lots of rest. I don't know why, but that's what my Dad tells me when I'm sick"). Awwww! And then there was a priceless text from one of my boys, "This school is dysfunctional without you." In the evening I got a book report turned in via email, and the boy's admonishment was "If you don't watch The Office tonight, don't even bother coming in tomorrow." Haha! I giggled, and refused to leave my bed even for him...

And I DID bother coming in the next day. I was so relieved and happy to be driving to school again! No more commanding my students to engage in semi-pointless activities while they awaited my return... I had at my side a trusty glass of ginger ale as I drove. I couldn't find a closed lid container, so it was a wide glass. But all was well, it was a smooth ride. Until the last stretch, that is. I hit the brakes, and my cell phone, which was resting on the console (I just learned that word in recent years, by the way), went "sliiiiide, sploop!" RIGHT INTO THE GLASS! Oh my word. I fetched it out with great rapidity, and then just kept giggling as I dried it off with Dunkin Donuts napkins (of which I have about 4000 - why do they all look at me in the drive-though and determine that I look like a girl who needs at least 4 napkins with my every single order?!) and tried to avoid hitting other cars. The phone seemed to work alright after that, but now it's having issues recharging, so it will only work when actually plugged in. Sigh. Hopefully that will right itself when it gets sufficiently dried off.

Then I got to school, where my students cheered at my return (except for a couple of 7th grade boys who boooed affectionately) in assembly. I found get well and welcome back cards as well as small gifts (three black jelly beans wrapped in a napkin) on my desk. I was practically giddy in Algebra, it was so good to be back amongst them. It took us a little while to get started, since they wanted to fill me in on things that had happened in my absence, and I had to tell them (because they definitely wanted to know) how very, very sick I had been.

Descriptive Paper on "Miss Murray" by Anonymous Student in 9th Grade

There is a teacher at the school of AICA. She is bright, beautiful, kind, caring and understanding. She has long, brown hair which she keeps long and pretty down to just above her waist. She wears exquisite skirts which vary in length. She has a normal face which consists of: ears, eyes, a nose, and a smile. You never see her without a smile except when you mess with her regulations which are: NO TALKING WHATSOEVER. NO SAYING "MISS MURRAY" UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. NO TOUCHING ANYONE ELSE'S DESK, BELONGINGS, BEING, OR PERIMETER OF SPACE AROUND THEM. NO GETTING OUT OF YOUR SEAT WITHOUT PERMISSION. NO THROWING THINGS WHILE CLASS IS IN SESSION. KEEP ALL LEGS OF ANY SORT ON THE FLOOR. NO MAKING ANY NOISES. NO SAYING THE 4 LETTER WORDS INCLUDING THE WORD CR*P. NO CONVERSING TO YOUR EVIL COHORTS IN ANY WAY. NO INFLICTING PAIN ON ANY OF YOUR CLASSMATES. NO NAME CALLING. So basically, if you don't speak or move in any way, you're good. But anyway, back to Miss Murray. She has a joyful spirit that, even when she's down in the "depths of despair," seems to soar on the wings of EAGLES. Oh! That's another thing. She loves her home team. She is the most loyal fan. That describes Miss Murray.

The Age Gap Increases...

Every once in awhile I'm reminded that there really is a significant gap between age 28 and age 14. I feel almost like I'm twice as old as they are... (yes, that was a joke - no need to point anything out in the comments section).

Generally this age gap is felt during the times when they're all laughing about something I don't think is funny, or stressing out about clothes. You know, general issues of interests.

The gap between myself and the other teachers is most often a gap in knowledge. They'll sing snatches of songs and look at me expectantly, or drop a name or something, and then laugh that I have no clue what they're talking about.

But today there was a bit of a switch in gap types. I was teaching my 8th grade Algebra class, and we got to talking about celebrities who shared our birthdays (yes, this is very relevant to solving two-placeholder problems by substitution). The only celebrity I know of who shares my birthday is Amy, and I didn't expect their knowledge of NH politics to extend very far. So instead I dropped the bombshell that my Dad shares a birthday (the exact day, too!) with Harrison Ford.

"Who's Harrison Ford?" one of my students asked. I looked at her dumbfounded. I appealed to the other for help. "Do you know who Harrison Ford is?" I asked. "Wasn't he a president?" he responded. "I know there was a president named Ford."

WHA.... ??? Neither one of them knew who Harrison Ford was!!! Oy vay. I brought up Indiana Jones and Hans Solo, and at least one of them looked at me with comprehension. The other turned back to her folder covered with the names of ridiculous 16 year old tv stars, and moved on.

Truly I feel twice as old as they are today. Thank goodness...

Glimpses of My Life

I'm waiting for my laundry to dry... Clearly that means it's time to blog. My Lit lesson tomorrow is one of those that can easily be winged.

*Today I said "She sounds like Edmund [from King Lear]" about one student, and the other knew what I meant! I was so proud of her. There's nothing like sharing a quick literature joke with someone...

*I sent my second kid to the principal's office. The principal was there. I felt kind of sickly...

*In Composition class I had a student hand in a paper that made me laugh so hard I was crying. Don't worry - it was supposed to be funny. He is definitely on my top 10 funny people list. What an honor for him! (This is the one I sent to the principal the first time...)

*I wonder who else is on my top 10 funny list. Danny, definitely. Also Brandon. And, um, 7 other people too... OH! Amy, for sure. Okay, enough. I'll write myself into a corner.

*Bobby makes me laugh a lot, too, but his is a different brand of funny. Mostly I just laugh AT him. Hee hee hee - just kidding:) He actually is wicked funny.

*One of my student's dads, ahem, the father of one of my students, I mean, came in yesterday and thanked me for inspiring his son to write. Apparently his son never wrote much at all before attending our school this year, and his parents have noticed a definite change. This came right after a blow to my, um, sense of accomplishment, so I was especially thankful for the encouragement!

*I told said dad that that was the whole reason I'd become a teacher - to inspire others to a love for literature. Well, writing is a little different, I guess, but hey... close enough!

*My students have challenged me (a challenge I attempted to take up while leading music in chapel this morning) to play the guitar without resting my pinkie (why not pinkey? or even pinky?) finger on the instrument. I have this weirdest habit ever of anchoring my pinkie while I strum with my remaining fingers. Weird. And of course they picked up on it instantly. I found that I could strum okay without the anchored fingers, but when I was picking it was harder to stay where I wanted to be on the strings. And again I say weird.

*I think rhetoric class rocks. It inspires me to be more careful with my words. For example, the word "rocks." Hmmmm.

*There are three weddings on my agenda for this summer! Yay! Time to go SHOPPING!

*Speaking of clothes, maybe my laundry is done drying now...

A BIG Day!

Sooo, today I sent a kid to the principal's office for the first time in my entire career! The ironic thing is that he really didn't deserve it this time as much as he has in the past. The other ironic thing is that he's one of my favorite students - he makes me laugh every day.

Anyway, after hearing repeated talks about the need for good discipline in my classroom, I finally instituted a new policy. If I have to talk to a student about poor behavior (talking without raising his hand, throwing something, etc), his name goes on the board. Next time is a check, next time is a trip to the principal's office.

This particular student was actually being quite good, but happened to talk without raising his hand three times. Oy vay. I looked at him with a kind of shocked face and said, "Um... you have to go see the principal." This happened to be a class of all boys, all very competitive, and they were pretty psyched about this turn of events.

Part of their joy stems from a dream I shared with them a couple of months ago (probably unwisely - but it was so funny!), in which someone totally acted up, I was about to send him to the principal, and then I realized it was this particular boy and changed my mind, sending him to the hall, instead. Thus it became the running joke that I would never send him, no matter what. When they realized I was really doing it, there was quite a to-do.

My poor student was shocked. I told him I would go with him:) You see, I wanted to explain to the principal that he wasn't really being all that bad... it was just this new policy. (I know, I know.) So I headed out the door, and he followed about 10 feet behind, making lamenting noises and comments all the way.

But when we got to the office, lo! the principal wasn't there! Ahhhh, phew! I was so relieved. I had followed through, but my students hadn't gotten in more trouble than he deserved:)

We headed back into the classroom, which was in an uproar to see us both return. They accused me of just peeking around the corner and zipping away again with an "oh well! He's not here! Let's go quick!" Hee hee. I protested that I had really looked for the principal. But they were right in spirit:)

Another red letter teaching day in the history of Andrea.

The Dunkin Lady

So when I first moved into this beautiful apartment, I was pretty psyched that there was a Dunkin Donuts two seconds away. But it turns out they make really bad coffee. This is something I don't understand. How are there some shops that are so good, and others that are lousy? Don't they all have the same coffee? I don't know. And it's immaterial at this point. So I'll move along.

There's another DD in Swansea, MA that makes awesome coffee. Consequently I am there rather frequently of a morning (but not too frequently! don't want to get addicted! and yes, I'm adding this parenthetical comment to ease my guilt) - frequently enough that the cashier recognizes me now. I love that! And I love her.

She's an older lady than most who work at the establishment. I'd guess 50's, perhaps. She is heavily ringed and nail polished, and she calls me "darlin," "sweetie," "dear," and you get the point. The first couple of times I was taken aback. Instead of the "do you know who I am?" line, I wanted to give the "do you know how OLD I am?" line. I assumed she thought me about 15 to be using such titles. But now I love it every time:) So I drive away feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, ready for another day teaching. We're becoming fast friends.

The kicker was during the last Christmas season. I was heading through the drive-through, feeling a little blue as I recall (yes, it happens... I was kind of stressed out, I think), and I drove up to the window to receive my food, only to see a Christmas card come popping out of the window with the bag! "I just got a Christmas card from the Dunkin Donuts lady!" I reflected, totally amused with the fact that it was the only Christmas card I'd received (um, not that I really expect to receive any, since I never give any! Except to my church family, from whom I also receive cards. But that hadn't happened yet, you see. Oh my word, get out of these parentheses immediately!). It made my day. We are definitely becoming fast friends.

Long live the Dunkin Lady!

From Alpha Centauri

One of my students recently recommended (and loaned me) the book Alpha Centauri. It was a great story, along the lines of the Narnia stories (though not as masterful, of course...). There were some beautiful moments in the story, and some quotes I really liked. So now I share one with you.

This is one of the First Ones discussing "the problem of pain" with the main character. I loved the simplicity and truth in his words.

"'But why does the Shaper allow all this to happen?'

'That is known only to the Shaper,' Menos replied. 'Sometimes we think we have a glimpse of why. Sometimes the Shaper may take what the Warper has twisted and make from it a thing more beautiful than before. Sometimes good is better for having overcome evil. But finally, only the Shaper knows the "why," and finally only he shapes good out of all.'"

Longing for Home

Whatever book I'm having my students study usually spills over into my everyday life in lots of ways. Right now my Classical Literature class is nearing the end of "The Odyssey." What a great story! As you're probably aware, its basic plot has to do with a man coming home after the battle of Troy. It takes him ten years. Throughout the book his longing for home is emphasized and reemphasized. So it's gotten me thinking about home and attachment to home, and when I run across other things pertaining, they jump right out at me.

One such "other thing" is the songs I've run across about longing for home. There's Charlie Zahm's "Caledonia and Me," Robert Burns' "My Heart's in the Highlands," Dougie MacLean's "Caledonia." Of course, these are all having to do with Scotland, but there are numerous other examples having to do with other people's homes.

And then I was wondering whether today we have the same kind of attachment to home as people have had in the past. We are a much more transient society, as I am regularly reminded, being a teacher in a school with a large population of military families.

Although it's not to the same degree, I think there definitely remains that loyalty to home that the ancients knew so well. I feel it for Fairwood, I know! There's nowhere else on earth that I belong so thoroughly as I belong at Fairwood. Part of that is the people, no doubt, but it's more than that, too. And of course I feel a lot of patriotism for the US. I love my country!

But I also feel it for Scotland. While I was there I felt an indescribable and deep connection to the land. And I know many of us have felt it for the land of Israel, as well. I've heard Grace talk about this bond with Armenia. Not just an "oh cool, this is where my ancestors lived," but something much more profound (not that Grace would ever say "oh cool"). There's more to this love for home than meets the eye, I think. There's something about it that goes beyond reason and intellect. "There's more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophies..."

Perhaps the reason this idea of home is such a compelling and poignant theme in literature, and something we find so strong in our own experiences, is that it flows from the inborn desire in each of us to reach our real Home. Our lives are our odysseys to the place we most truly and deeply belong.

Thesis Projects

I am sick. So is Melissa. We seem to have the same bug. Poor us. But that means I can totally veg alllll day! I'm so thankful for the good timing of being sick on a Saturday. It's such a pain to miss school days. Anyway, I'm not annoyingly sick, just kind of sick, so I'm well enough to read and blog! What a great sickness.

So we've plunged into Thesis Projects at school. Every year the juniors and seniors must do an extensive thesis on some controversial topic or other, write it up in 10-15 pages, and present it to a panel of scary folk (like me). Last year was the first year we did it, and I ended up being the main advisor (much to my horror), but we muddled through. This year I have that much more experience and am kind of excited about it.

As I often found in college, the hardest part is choosing the topic. I had one student who had an immediate idea, but two who were waffling. Thursday we took a field trip to the Newport Library (what a great place!) and started plunging in. I got a teacher high from helping one of my students come up with a really good idea after a bit of floundering about in the history section and the online card catalogue.

So as of right now the topics are:
Ethics of the genome project (eeek!)
Effects of the 60's
Media Bias

Should be good papers! I get excited about this kind of thing - there are so many things I'd love to really dig into. Many times in my schooling career I was presented with controversial material and longed to be able to really investigate it and find out the truth. I suppose some things will have to wait until Heaven, but who knows, perhaps someday I'll have the time and motivation to explore...

Some topics I'd like to research: Israeli/Palestinian issues, the Crusades, treatment of American Indians, and probably more that aren't at the tip of my brain right now. Wouldn't that be fun? And of course there is so much to learn in the field of Literature... So much to learn if I would just do it! But for now I content myself with the fact that I have broken into the world of scholarly non-fiction with these Louis Markos books (Achilles to Christ and the FANTASTIC book I got for Christmas - thanks Dan and Ruth - Pressing Forward: Alfred, Lord Tennyson and the Victorian World. Woooooooo!). That's a big step forward for the usually totally un-self-motivated me. The next big step is to finish reading them! :)

Whew, this is a lot of teacher-y stuff for a Saturday. I better get right back to vegging.

You Never Know When it Will Hit

I was just standing at my kitchen sink draining a thingy of tuna fish, and realized that I was vigorously squeezing the lid against the meat with the dreamiest of expressions on my face. How is this? Tuna fish is many things, but dreamy is not one of them.

It was this way, you see: I was listening to Charlie Zahm's "Caledonia and Me" while I prepared my (oh-so-yummy) tuna melt. "But throughout it all, through desert storm and shower, I have dreamed of home: Caledonia and me." Suddenly I was thinking of those hills again. Hence the dreamy expression. Man, did that place ever get under my skin!

In other news, today one of my fellow teachers found out that I don't really cook. "Well, would you like to learn how?" she asked expectantly. And it hit me. I really don't want to! Not only do I not like cooking, I don't even like the thought of liking cooking! Things have reached an extreme state... But not really, because I'm not that picky an eater, and I'm fine with eating tuna melts!

And dreaming of Scotland...

Tidbits on Apartment Life

I love living in this apartment! There are definitely some things I didn't foresee when I moved here, though...

*Heat is wicked expensive. We have opted for 17 layers and a thermostat set at 60 degrees. It's amazing how 60 is balmy in March when you're outside, but mighty chilly when you're indoors...

*I miss NESN.

*If your landlady carpools to church with her sister, leaving her car parked in front of yours in the oh-so-narrow driveway, forgetting to leave her keys behind, you are absolutely, totally, 100% trapped. There's not a thing you can do until she returns home again (full of mortified apology, bless her heart!).

*The oh-so-narrow driveway is also oh-so-long, and takes a good deal of otherwise-unused muscle come shovelling time.

*Christmas trees actually have to be removed sometime in January (ideally). They don't just go away. Similarly, paper towels and milk have to be bought every single time you want more. Those things used to just happen...

*When you're home alone, it's nice to have a cat upon whom you can blame any noises you may hear in the night.

*I LIVE ONLY 25 MINUTES FROM THE WRENTHAM OUTLETS!

*It's amazing how much you can bond with a new place, and make it your own. And it's amazing how much fun you can have if your roommates are two such great girls as Sara and Melissa!

Wicked Cool Story!

This morning I had a fascinating discussion with my house-mates, in which I wondered if I would have recognized Jesus for who He was, had I been alive when He was on earth. Then this evening I ran across a very small picture of that. If one of the world's greatest violinists played in a subway station, would I recognize him? Or at least recognize the quality of his playing? Gretchen sent me this article, and I thought it was fascinating. Check it out!

Pearls Before Breakfast

Marriage & Resurrection

Four days ago one of my students leaped up from where he was sitting at the lunch table, and before the entire student body loudly proclaimed that the new Latin teacher and I would make a perfect match. The room was in an uproar! Some students were scandalized that he would say something like that, others were protesting that the new Latin teacher is old enough to be my grandfather (which isn't technically true, I don't think, but pretty close). I was amused at his matchmaking, and even more amused by the hubbub it caused.

Two days ago one of my students asked me if I would marry Shakespeare if he was alive today. I said that I would not, because it's dangerous with those genius artist types - they might forget you exist! We joked about the possible scenarios and moved on.

There have been other similar moments recently as well. What is it about my students worrying about my not being married? It doesn't bother me that they talk about it - I think it's rather charming. But still, where does it come from? I guess they, like many others, view single-ness as a problem that they must fix. Ah my dears, fear not. I'm right where I belong, and I'm loving it.

Speaking of people coming to life again, Friday was teacher training and we were reading a book by John Milton Gregory about teaching. It's an excellent book, and has sparked many conversations and a good bit of inspiration in our training times. On this occasion my headmaster said, "I love this man! I wish I could resurrect him and hug him!" I burst right into laughter - what a great thing to say!

And before you can ask me, no, I don't think I'd marry John Milton Gregory if he was alive today.

My Fellow Teacher...

I share a classroom with a man who is such an interesting fellow! He believes Frances Bacon wrote Shakespeare's plays, and that the US bombed the Pentagon. But he is SO nice! He's not at all intimidating, and I really enjoy him. Anyway, one day I was feeling exuberant, and decided to decorate the board. This resulted:

Then I turned around and burst into laughter, seeing this in his board:

I am thankful for a congenial co-teacher who makes me laugh:)

Words of Aff in Disguise

I am a words of affirmation person. Sometimes pathetically so. My pathetic example that I pull out to illustrate my patheticism is that when I cooked in Bible School I didn't know whether my meal was good or not unless someone said, "Mmm, good (whatever I cooked)!" It didn't matter that I had the same thing in my mouth, and could taste for myself whether it was good or not. Someone else had to tell me for it to be true.

That being said, I've had some severe non-aff words hurled at me recently. But somehow I remained unscathed. Why? They were words of aff in disguise. And I loved them!

The first instance of this was in a Christmas card, from a girl I've TOTALLY bonded with this year. It read, "Dear Miss Murray, Even though I hate your algebra, logic, and literature class, I decided to give you this anyway. I hope you have a WELL (underlined) Christmas." Hee hee hee! I laughed so much and read it to all and sundry. I usually don't approve of negative joking, but somehow this one just captured my heart:)

The second instance came today in Lit class. One of my students was trying to stump me by giving me initials of famous authors and making me guess them. The first was EAP. I was stumped. One of my other students came up with it: Edgar Allen Poe! Then he asked CD, LB (with the clue that the first letter isn't a name) and RB. I came up with Charles Dickens, Lord Byron, and Robert Browning. (Don't be impressed - I'd just taught all of those authors to him so they were fresh in my mind.) "Aha! You'll never get this one!" he crowed. "JS!" As he was repeating "you'll never get this," I came out with John Steinbeck. And he retorted "I hate you." That saying has been the TABOO-ist thing in the WORLD all my life, but this time it was incredibly gratifying:) It came across as high praise. Of course, what he doesn't know is that he gave me a clue by saying I'd never get it. I knew it must be someone I didn't like, and there are very few of those that he knows about... So maybe the "I hate you" wasn't deserved. But I'll take it anyway.

And now, just like that, after a two-day week, it's the weekend! Hurrah! Basketball game tomorrow night...

The Mad Dash to Revelation...

It's on, folks. The crazed rush at the end of the year to make sure I make it through the whole Bible. It's like this every year. I don't think I've ever had a sane last week in December. Why? Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I just stay up in my Bible reading?

It's frequently a few killer weeks in the summer that tip me over the edge into perpetual behind-ness. Somewhere around Girls' Week and Convention time... It fluctuates year by year, of course. Sometimes I do pretty well there, but have a crunched couple of weeks at school or something. In any case, somewhere in the mad rush of living I drop the ball, only to pick it up again in December.

So why bother? you make ask. One year I did give up, I admit. I just read a little every day instead of trying to cram in a book a day or something. But most years the frenzy is worth it. Gretchen contends that I'm missing the point - the point isn't to read it in a year, it's to read a little EVERY DAY and thereby finish in a year. Hm. An excellent point. But I guess I figure if I'm that close, and if I've put that much work in, I might as well finish it up! I mean, I've already read 50 books, I might as well do 15 more! Besides, it's all about finishing what you set out to do. Who wants to leave a job half-finished?

And of course, there's always that great relief of starting off on January 1 having only 1 reading to read instead of 10. It's probably all worth it just for that!

Okay, enough babbling. I've got a bunch of Bible to read! (I'm always at my holiest Dec 31...)

Happy Birthday to my Favorite Mom!

I love my Mom. And today is her birthday! I love her because of the many ways she is like me. She understands me. I love her because of the (fewer) ways she is unlike me. I can't actually think of any at the moment. Well, that's not true - she doesn't have a lot of my faults! She has allowed God to work in her life in a remarkable way. And she can give amazing counsel along those lines. She is a very wise woman. I love her because she is fun and adventurous (you should have seen her on the moor on the Isle of Skye!) and funny and as kind a person as you will ever meet. I'm so thankful for such an awesome Mom!

Reading About Me in Books

Sometimes I run across things in books I can totally relate to - personality quirks or trains of thought or something. And then there are descriptions that are more obvious - things that really do describe me. Often they are negative things.

For example, I read a book about a girl who was my height and weight. And (now this, of course, is the not true-to-life part) she was described as "a large girl" or something like that. HEY NOW!!! I was not impressed.

Then there was the time a couple of weeks ago when I was reading "The Hiding Place" for school, and read about Corrie realizing (AT AGE 27) that she would never marry. Haha.

I've really enjoyed 27. I think it's a cool age. Established yet full of future possibility. 28 seemed kind of weird - an in-between age. I wasn't so sure.

But a couple of days ago I was reading a great Helen MacInnes and LO! the heroine (whom I really liked) was "only 28." Hurrah! Suddenly 28 was an acceptable age to be:) That was a nice pre-birthday gift.

Then, when I went downstairs this morning to receive the birthday greetings of my parents, Dad (who likes to find significance in these things) announced that 28 is the perfect square of 2 multiplied by 7. Ooooooooo! Auspicious to be sure!

So here I am: 28 years old. And so far it's been great!

(PS. Several of you have already commented on facebook - no need to leave birthday greetings here. I just wanted to write this!)

Merry Christmas!

"In him was life,

and that life was the

light of men.

The light shines in the darkness..."

Christmas: The Time for Traditions...

Back in the days when I was in school, our family was making Christmas traditions left and right. You know, things like a Christmas story Christmas Eve, the girls sleeping under the tree, certain ornaments that had to go up, favorite music, stockings, gift-opening traditions... And then there was one tradition all my own. I used to get sick practically every Christmas. Our theory was that I was pushing, pushing, pushing to get everything accomplished school-wise, and then I would let down for vacation and WHAM! I'd get sick.

This year I decided to take that tradition up again. Yup. My family is downstairs listening to Christmas music and chatting away over dinner, and I'm up here, feeling fever-y. But Mama left the door open so that I can be a part of it all. Much better than isolation, which I've never been a big fan of. I can even make out snatches of conversation. I just heard Kimberly say, "Remember how she always used to get sick on Christmas, though?" Awwww. They're talking about me!

The nice thing is that I got to stay in bed alllll day. Many is the time I've awoken to my alarm and wished that I could get away with this. Of course, I didn't count in the headache and general malaise. But still - I have an excuse to be totally and completely unproductive. So that's jolly.

Now for something a little more Christmas-y. I loved this year’s Christmas service yesterday – so many lovely and inspiring contributions focusing on the love and the wonder of Christmas. I’m thankful to our great God for His great Love given to us and for us on the first Christmas, and for the difference it has made in every single subsequent day.

Merry Christmas everyone! (And Happy Birthday, Clyde!)

Women's Lib Watch Out!

Okay, here are two things that really bug me.

#1 The bumper sticker that says "Well-behaved women don't make history."

#2 The descriptive term "strong woman" used so often in college about women in books who defy "traditional morality" to do whatever it is that they want (like leave their husband and children because they were stifled, or something).

OY VAY PEOPLE!

When I see the bumper sticker I feel like screaming "What about MARY?!" This being such a Catholic-rich state, that might be more effective here than elsewhere. But of course, the bumper sticker owner would probably claim that as an exception. It's true that the history books are full of many more men than women, but there's nothing wrong with that. Men are supposed to be the movers and shakers! And without well-behaved women, those men couldn't have moved or shaken. It's so much more important to be well-behaved and make a quiet difference with far-reaching consequences than to be in the history books for the kind of thing such bumper-sticker toters would applaud.

And what is up with calling someone "strong" who is immoral and selfish? It takes a lot more strength to die to self and do the right thing than it does to follow your own desires. In class I'm sure they were referring to those women braving social stigmas or some such thing, but there has to be some other term they can use to describe this. You know, something like "so bent on getting their own way, and blind to everything else, that they were willing to be looked down on by the rest of society. Including ourselves." But of course, that takes a little longer to say than "strong woman."

So what is a strong woman then? Self-sacrifice springs to mind, among other things...

I think of my Mother, who, while going through deep grief, gave me an example of justifying God without exception. She wasn't faking. She was living out her faith in front of me. Hers isn't some kind of brute strength, charging through life getting her own way, hers is the beautiful strength of choosing God and His ways again and again, even when it isn't easy.

I think of my friend Karen who went straight from being single to being married with four children, and who works from dawn to dusk to take care of them, barely taking a moment for herself, and still makes time for friendship with me.

I think of friends who are forging their way through life, discovering their paths one step at a time, unsure of what the future holds and yet going straight on.

I think of amazing mothers who have raised (and are raising) difference-making children.

Women who put others before themselves, women who say "yes" to God even when it means death to self, women who show the incredible strength of surrender - these are the strong women.

I'm sure there are many other attributes, and I know there are many other examples. I had ideas of developing this into a full-blown essay. But here is a little surface-scratching at least.

Oh For the Days of Horses and Carriages

Fiascoes galore! That's what my commutes have held recently. Oy vay.

First was the flat tire. On 95. On the way to work. A state trooper called a CVS help van for me, and I only missed morning devotions. Not too shabby!

Then two weeks ago I was on my way to work, this time on 195, when my car started rattling, I looked down, and saw my temperature gauge at the TOP! I'd never seen the like. I careened over to the (fortunately wide) shoulder, and decided the time had come to join AAA (or would you write Triple A?). Join I did, and the tow truck was to come in 45 minutes. In the mean time a CVS help van pulled up, and the kind man let me wait in his van so I wouldn't freeze to death. I love CVS help vans!

The tow truck pulled up and lo! the hydraulics broke! I was so amused, because when I teach irony to my students, that's one of my favorite examples: I break down, and the tow truck pulls up and gets a flat tire or something. What are the odds?! Anyway, the second tow truck was there just a few moments later, I got a tow, rented a car, and only missed first period! Then Uncle Paul bailed me out with a loaner car to use while mine got fixed.

Then came last Thursday. Snow storm. Remember? Well, we got out of school at noon, in order to beat the storm. The snow was already falling thick and fast, and it took me two hours to get to the outskirts of Providence - a trip that usually takes 40 minutes or so. And then, with startling regularity, one after another of the warning lights on the dashboard came on. I put in a call to Uncle Paul, he picked up... and the car died. Right in the slow lane of 195.

How fortuitous that I had just joined AAA/Triple A.

The call was shortly made, and I was put on high priority since I was actually on the highway, and not the shoulder. Thankfully, the traffic was moving at a deathly slow pace, so I wasn't in any real danger. But I felt awfully forlorn sitting there in a car being steadily covered with snow while cars passed by one after another.

Nearly TWO HOURS later the tow truck arrived. There were so many calls in to our friends of the A variety, that low priority calls were waiting more like 3 or 4 hours. Hurrah for breaking down on the highway!

And yet, the fun was not over... The tow took THREE HOURS. When there isn't heavy traffic, that trip takes about 10 minutes. But this wasn't just heavy traffic, it was unbelievable. We went 3/4 of a mile in about an hour. And then the exit for my apartment was blocked by a semi that couldn't make the hill. Another road was blocked by an accident.

I have never been so relieved to see my apartment! I flipped on the news and discovered that I was far from alone as far as horror stories go... All over Providence people were stuck for hours. Sara, who works 15 minutes from our apartment, took 7 hours to get home! Uncle Paul took 5 hours to get from the shop to my apartment and then home. It was a disaster. Entire roads, areas, highways at a standstill. OY VAY!

Anyway, it all turned out alright in the end. And Uncle Paul got my car fixed for WAY less than it was supposed to take, so now I have my own car back. I was so happy with it that I kissed the steering wheel. We hope the driving fiascoes are at an end now...

There's so much more I could say, but this seems long enough. Amazing how a little time passing makes these things more of a good story than an absolute nightmare. Time heals all wounds, and all that...

From Achilles to Christ

The title of this post is the title of a book I just got for my Classical Literature class. It arrived in the mail last week, and I started reading it Friday while I was overseeing a study hall (a one-person study hall, I might add, so I really have no distractions and it's like a free period!). I LOVE IT! Suddenly I was experiencing the handed-to-me-on-a-silver-platter intellectual stimulation which was such a daily occurence in college, but it so hard to come by these days. I kept interrupting my hard-working student in order to exclaim on the latest! (Poor kid.)

Anyway, the premise of the book is that the ancient pagan cultures, created by God with eternity in their hearts, were seeking after truth and, although they did not have God's special revelation, did have aspects of truth. Therefore, we can read the pagan classics looking for those glimmers of truth. The author even suggests that there are elements in the classics that foreshadow the coming of Christ, just as Abraham and Isaac foreshadowed it. Cool, huh?

I had noticed this repeatedly the first year I taught this class - this foreshadowing thing. The prime example is probably the Centaur (who had commited no wrong) giving up his life so that Prometheus (whom Zeus was punishing) could go free. It's all over the Greeks' writing. And this book finally gives me an understanding of why this is. It's SO COOL! This book is really going to help my teaching.

Oh, and then the author discusses the fact that Jesus and Paul both used the Greeks' own writing to point them to the truth. You know the verse about "except a grain (or corn) of wheat fall to the ground...?" Well, the author hypothesizes (though he says there's no definite proof) that Jesus used those specific words to point out to a Greek audience that was caught up in the Demeter cult (she was the goddess of corn and a vague idea of resurrection) that He was the true fulfillment of what they were seeking. Cool, eh?

Here are a few quotes to give you a better idea of what I'm talking about:

"If it is the living Messiah...that is the source of truth, then it is possible for that truth (albeit in a lesser, fragmented form) to appear throughout the imaginative literature of the ancient pre-Christian world."

"Those timeless works of ancient Greece and Rome that record the musings of humanity's greatest seekers and yearners will contain traces, remnants and intimations of that wisdom which made us."

"The Greco-Roman understanding of virtue was, in its purest form, not antithetical to but prophetic of the biblical Christian virtues of faith, hope and love."

"Were we not all created in God's image, and though we are all fallen from our original state, does not a spark of divine fire remain in each of us?"

AHHHHH! This stuff is SO down my alley:) Hurrah for someone who is smart, and can express it better than I can!

Okay, the coolest news of all in this is that Markos has written another book, and that one is about TENNYSON my all time favorite poet! That one's more expensive, and I'm not teaching it this year so I couldn't really justify spending the money. But it sure is on my Christmas list, boy howdy!

Can you believe that this is part of my job?! What a life...

(Katie - you should definitely read this book...)

Reeeeading!

GUYS! I read SO MUCH over Thanksgiving break! For a long time I've felt starved for a good book - I just haven't been reading much recently. And so I grabbed my chance with five days off. Mostly my Thanksgiving break went like this:

Read
Sleep
Read
Help Mom (a little)
Read
Go to Thanksgiving service
Read
Sleep
Read
Help Mom (a little more)
Eat Thanksgiving Dinner
Enjoy family
Read
Sleep
Read
Go to town
Read
Go back to town (why couldn't I get that car fixing appointment a little earlier?!)
Sabbath meeting
Enjoy family
Read
Sleep
Reeeeeead
Enjoy family
Read
Sleep
Church
Go home via lunch w/ friend

Pretty good, eh? That's my kind of vacation. It's amazing how much I love reading when I can do it without distraction!

Sooo, what did I read? Ahh, a good question. I started off with an Agatha Christie. Can't go wrong there. VERY much enjoyed the character descriptions - one totally reminded me of me, flaws and all! Weowd.

Then I decided for a little more culture, and picked up "The Mayor of Casterbridge" which I'd started and abandoned. The plot definitely heated up, and I was surprised by the ending. Reading some of the commentary helped me to understand it, and I feel like a more well-rounded human being for having read it.

Then, because too much of a good thing is an awesome thing, I opted for another Agatha Christie. I shortly discovered I'd read it before, but I couldn't remember much, and certainly couldn't remember who'd done it. I was curious. It was a good read all over again, and I was fooled. I always am, with good ol' Dame Christie. Or is it Dame Agatha? Anyway, I was fooled.

It was time for more culture, so I picked up another 19th c British novel called "Barchester Towers" by Anthony Trollope. It was a loooong book, and everything that could be said in 10 words was said in 25. I'd say it's the kind of book that should probably be enjoyed over a long period of time, bit by bit, as opposed to a 24 hour period. But you know what? It was a great story! A great read! And the author had a beautifully Victorian way with words. Not quite as good as Dickens, but reminiscent thereof. I enjoyed the characters there, too.

And, to reward myself for being so cultured I decided on... another Agatha Christie! This story, "The Big Four," was quite different than most of her stories - involving more spy-story tendencies than usual. Quite enjoyable.

Well, I don't know if this book counts, because I only started it on vacation, I won't finish it on vacation (unless I have insomnia tonight or something), but I'm currently reading "Remembered Anger" by Martha Albrand - a story about a man betrayed in WWII who decides to track down his betrayer after the war.

AHHHHHHHH! I love reading! I'm about ready to say goodnight to the Patriots (who are obviously going to win) and pick up my book again... and it's only the first quarter!

Time for a Post!

Good grief - I've almost stooped to Craig-like proportions here. Quick! Update!

Today my fourth grade teacher came to church. It was a fascinating experience. It's amazing how your perspective can change in 17 years... I don't remember why she was such a good teacher - I just know that she stands out in my memory as one of my absolute favorites. But Mama knew (and expressed) what it was - her control of the classroom, her awareness of each student as an individual, her adeptness at discerning the needs of her students, etc. I can see what Mama's talking about now, but then all I knew was that I loved her. That's one of the things I love about getting older - being able to see things you never could have seen when you were younger. Brain expansion is an exhilarating thing:)

In other news, I'm enjoying my new students so much! I forgot about that period of building rapport with the new kids, and am having lots of fun with it suddenly. The times I have been enthusiastically jumped-out-at-with-loud-BOOs are becoming more numerous. Usually I have to fake fear, but the other day they reallllly got me. Nothing like some good adrenaline filled rapport building.

Last week we took a whole school field trip to Plymouth, which was pretty cool. I got to ride with one of my student's mothers, and discovered such a sweetie! There's also rapport building along those lines... Last week was also parent teacher conferences, and I found them draining but rewarding. I'm not used to dealing with such grown-up people! But parental connections are so beneficial, and they went really well. Hurrah for supportive parents!

Okay, something has been posted. My job here is done. Happy Thanksgiving soon!

Visitors and the Incentive Thereof

Okay, so we've got company coming tomorrow - some of the first to ever burst, um, here. (This is not a silent sea!) The FIRST was Elizabeth. Yay for her!

Anyway, this inspired much cleaning, organizing, and decorating. I'd unpacked the majority of my things within the first week or so, but there were many things that slipped to low priority - such as hanging pictures that required nails.

But a few weeks ago I got the picture hangers from Walmart, and last night I tackled the job. They look WICKED good if I do say so myself! However, I couldn't help but be glad there was no one there to see my slip-shod, unprofessional tactics. I had no level, no tape measure, no nothing! I pulled out a necklace of little plastic Christmas lights (from Penny when I was in Bible School - I love it!), and used that to measure. It's 13 and a half Christmas lights from the center picture to the outside picture, if anyone's wondering. But at a slight downward angle. Yaaa, really exact.

Oh, and my nailing skills are SWEET, too. Mostly I was okay, but I think I hit a stud or something and my hammer was just kind of bouncing off the nail. Mmmhm. And then I bent a nail a little bit. In sheet rock?! I ask of myself in disdain. Ah well - I guess I'm not a carpenter for a reason. Though I would love to try my hand at some small-scale stuff now and then.

Anyway, I'm pretty happy because these particular pictures are the cream of my Israel crop... and they've been waiting for these FOUR YEARS for me to get a wall on which to hang them. I didn't want to put all those holes in the Brown's walls because I thought I'd be moving back home after college and that wasn't too far away. And then I didn't move home, but I still didn't put them up. So now, with an apartment, I seized the opportunity! Yay!

Also, besides my cleaning, organizing, and picture hanging, we had a cleaning party for the rest of the apartment, and the place looks SO good! YAY!

The Latest...

I am currently doing HAND WASHING! This is definitely a sign that I'm growing up. Always in the past I've passed those difficult laundering issues off on Mom. Hand wash only? To Mom it goes.

But now, here I am, living in my apartment, and doing my own handwash. I'm serious! It's in the little pot as we speak!

Pot? you may ask. Well, yeah. I find that an apartment doesn't come stocked with all the things you'll ever need in said apartment. Mama does her hand washing in a plastic basin type thing. I have no plastic basin type thing. So I improvised and am using a cooking pot:)

Where did you get the cooking pot? you may ask. AH! Let me TELL you! I purchased a pots and pans set!!! My friend Karen (mother of two of my current students and fast becoming a dear, dear friend) had a beautiful teflon set of pots which she'd purchased before her marriage, not knowing that her future husband would have an issue with teflon (as well as cell phones, artificial sweeteners and anything else that has any possible link to cancer). So I bought it from her for much less than the original price. Hurrah! I felt SO very grown up to be driving home with my very own pots and pans...

Here, in fact, are some of these pots and pans, surrounding Melissa in glory:) (She came in to use my computer right after I'd unpacked them...) Ummm, also I had no bedspread at that point. Don't notice that. I just got one from Mum today.

I tell ya, this apartment business is more fun THAN a!

Just for the Record...

Just for the record, TJ is getting cooler by the second. He stopped by this week, and brought enough Chinese food with him that I was still eating the leftovers this evening for dinner. What a sweetie!

Just for the record, I love that I can hear church bells playing hymns from my apartment!

Just for the record, I'm rooting for the Red Sox to win this evening. I lost so much sleep last week watching late games! Friday I was late for school - the THIRD time in that week. I was chatting with Mr. Bailey about something and then he brought up the Sox and asked me if I'd watched the whole game the night before. "YES!" I wailed, "and that's why I can't get my act together!" He just smiled knowingly and said he'd stayed up too. It was such a great bonding moment:)

Just for the record, I love bonding over the Red Sox!

Just for the record, I think it's a little cruel that baseball ends right at the point where people are most into it. It leaves you with this nostalgic longing that lingers through the winter months. But, as A. Bartlett Giamatti, late commissioner of baseball, put it: "renewal has rhythms as old as decline."

Just for the record, I think A. Bartlett Giamatti is the coolest. With him baseball is poetry.

Just for the record, I carved a great pumpkin today! Melissa and Sara and Elizabeth and some of Sara's friends were all there and some definite masterpieces came out of the experience. We decided we should do a gingerbread house making party in the Christmas season. (I miss you, Penny!)

Apartment Pictures!

And now, for your visualizing pleasure... pictures of our apartment!


This is the view when you walk in the door: our beautiful kitchen!

Then, if you go just around the corner, you see this little alcove for sink, fridge, and shelf space.
























Proceeding from the kitchen inward you come to our living space. The first area is the "work space" with a computer and chairs for people with laptops:)


















Then, further in is the living room. I love the pillars! And the hardwood floors. And everything about it!!!
















Ahhhhhhhh. Now do you see why I'm so dumbfounded that this is actually real and I'm not just playing house?! What an incredible blessing.

From the New Homefront!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Suddenly I'm SO inspired about BLOGGING! Why? you may ask. Well let me tell you!

I'm sitting in my apartment, the kitchen to be exact, at the beautiful new table donated by the landlady, after having made myself dinner (Cup-a-Soup - thanks Britain trip, for opening my eyes to the virtue of such fare - and a muffin - Aunt Pat's housewarming gift to the three of us which TOTALLY saved my life since I missed the exit for the grocery store on the way home and wanted something a little more substantial than soup alone... I'm going to be eating SO well), and I'm suddenly really excited again (as I often am) about the fact that I'm living in an apartment!

I just can't believe it. I have been (mmmm, cup-a-soup's really good!) dreaming of this for years, literally. Since Bible School, at least, which makes it 7 -9 years... Many a girl can testify to my penchant for saying "we should get an apartment someday..." And now here I am. And not just any ol' apartment, either. It's a big kid apartment! It's beautiful! And yes, I will try to get pictures up pronto. (Well, pronto-ish...)

Gretchen and Mama were the absolute HEROES. Gretchen was here Sunday and helped me start the process (she stayed until 10pm!), and Mama was here Monday and helped me finish (she worked tirelessly alllll day). I can't imagine having done it without them. OH MY WORD I have so much JUNK! But the nice thing about moving is that I got RID of a lot of junk, too. Hurrah for that! In fact, I believe one small bag got over here without being sorted, but nothing else escaped my scrutiny. I looked through things I haven't seen for years! I found a wicked nice jean skirt, too, which is awesome because I was just thinking about buying one. And I can't be throwing money around anymore... Perfect timing! (Wow, this muffin is so good!)

You know how sometimes people leap into things and it is said of them that they "didn't look back once?" Well, that's not me. I loved it at the Browns so much! It truly was a home. I even felt a little claustrophobic today, thinking about driving home to the city instead of the country. Not that I have gone outside ONCE since school began (except to talk on my phone. Another great plus of this apartment - service inside!), but hey, what if I wanted to now?

However, despite a little backward glancing (good thing this isn't a plow!) the upsides are incredible. Foremost among them, of course, is the fact that I'm living with Melissa and Sara!!! I mean, seriously, you can't get much better than that! I love them, and they're so comfortable to be with. That's a big thing. We're going to have SUCH good times! Also, the shortened commute is sweet - I woke up at 5:30 this morning instead of 5! And then there's the shedding of the stigma associated with not having your own place (a stigma with which I do not agree, and yet still felt hanging over me sometimes). And I'm within walking distance of the mall! And right at this moment the strong accents of a woman's Portuguese upbraiding of her husband is pouring from her open window through mine. Oh no, wait, that's not so good... I'll put on some music:) Really though, it's pretty amazing. I got right down on my knees and thanked God for it last night, when it finally started to sink in.

Okay, enough blathering. I'm just really, really thankful. And now about those pictures...

PS. Sara is SO amazing. I had no idea she was so efficient before this whole sharing an apartment thing came along. She just blew in here after work with freshly bought curtain rods and now she's going to make a pizza (NOT a frozen pizza) before breezing out to get keys copied and then go to school... She has also arranged for us to have heat, electricity, intenet, etc. Who knows when that would have happened had I been doing this on my own. Sara is the ally for the ages!

News from the (soon to be old) Homefront

Well people, I am finally becoming a real big kid... with an apartment! Things have opened up, pretty suddenly and semi-miraculously, for me to move into an apartment in Providence with Sara and Melissa. I still can't quite believe it!

Melissa has been renting a room in the upstairs apartment, and when I first went to see it I also looked at the downstairs apartment and fell right in love. Clunk. But of course the rent was through the roof for one person to pay, and no one else I knew was free to rent an apartment with me. So I just prayed a little prayer and told God how I'd love to live in that apartment and left it there.

A couple (?) weeks later, Sara mentioned the possibility of moving out of her apartment into this apartment - if Melissa and I were interested. I jumped in whole-heartedly, and after a few minor bumps it's actually happening now. Tomorrow and Monday (thanks, Columbus!) are my moving days.

OY VAY!!!

As awesome as this is, you know me and change. We don't totally click. I'm kind of sad about leaving the Browns. I mean, I've been here for over six years! It's been such an incredible home away from home. I'll miss being neighbors with TJ and chatting with Aunt Laura and being the recipient of Uncle Paul's regular affirmation and Amy's happy greetings.

Still.... I'm pretty psyched about this apartment business. Wooohooooooooo! Okay, you can make that wicked psyched. So everyone book visits into your calendars!

"However we may miss and mourn the dead, we really give little deference to death. 'Death,' a friend of mine said as he approached it himself, 'is a convention...not binding upon anyone but the keeprs of graveyard records.' The dead remain in thought as much alive as they ever were, and yet increased in stature and grown remarkably near. The older I have got and the better acquainted among the dead, the plainer it has become to me that I live in the company of immortals.

But now I have been here a fair amount of time, and slowly I have learned that my true home is not just this place but is also that company of immortals with whom I have lived here day by day. I live in this love, and I know something of the cost. Sometimes in the darkness of my own shadow I know that I could not see at all were it not for this old injury of love and grief, this little flickering lamp that I have watched beside for all these years."

-Wendell Berry

Wendell's got some good stuff to say, but I'm glad that the picture is even bigger and more solid than this. Andrew is not just alive in thought and love today, but alive in actuality as never before--perhaps more now than a year or two or three ago. Not just home with a vague sense of the company of loved ones, but Home, with glorious Love Himself, our All in All, as well as with all those others we have known and loved. A solid home, a solid joy beyond all measure.

Miss you, man. Coming soon.

Anybody out there?

I'm breaking my long blog silence (which I've been meaning to do for several days!) because I just can't NOT tell people this!

I'm grading papers for my brand new little 7th graders, and they're so cute! They had to write a five-paragraph essay on what makes a good book. What made me spring up from my seat and jump onto the computer is this fabulous line:

"Seriousness is the third most important thing a book needs. Wherefore do you ask? Because if the book..."

Isn't that RICH?!?! It couldn't have been much later than the second day of school that I taught them that wherefore means WHY and not WHERE. And he remembered... and used it! Despite the awkwardness of usage, my little heart was thrilled. I'm teaching people things that they will remember forever. And YES it is important to know that:)

In more general news, the year is going SO well. I feel like my older kids have made a break-through and are starting to really think about Literature in the way I've been pushing them to for the past two years. I don't know what could be more rewarding. It's so good to see.

I LOVE TEACHING!

Way to Go Buchholtz!

Well, I was going to write a post for all the non-baseball people out there - trying to give you a glimpse of why I'm such a huge fan by using this evening's incredible game (first no-hitter by a rookie in Red Sox history), but I started and quickly stalled. I don't know if I'm up to the task of expressing it in words. If you were only HERE experiencing it with Ben, Dave, Uncle Paul, Melissa, Anna, Josh and TJ, sitting at the edges of our seats, realizing one tiny mistake could blow the whole thing, and watching him, pitch by pitch, avoid those mistakes, THEN you might start to get it. The suspense and silence, the burst of rejoicing and relief, the happy chatter bubbling out afterwards, the reliving of the most tense and most amazing moments... WHAT A GAME! Truly, that's one of the most masterful of accomplishments.