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..."