Squirrels make me happy. I find it fun to stop every now and then to watch them for a moment. For a creature that eats inanimate objects, they sure capture those morsels in the most animated ways. A squirrel seems to sneak up on his food as though he’s afraid the nut is going to run away if it sees him coming.
To a squirrel, if a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing dramatically. Squirrels don’t go from place to place, they don’t run from place to place, they don’t even dart from place to place. Even darting implies taking the shortest distance between two points and doing so with purpose and efficiency and, perhaps, secrecy. Those things aren’t for the squirrel, no siree! The squirrel leaps and bounces from place to place as flamboyantly as possible. He often spirals his way up a tree instead of taking the direct route and skitters across the road only centimeters from deadly tire tread. He’s just asking to be noticed!
Why all the needless energy and effort? Maybe to make us smile and remember that we don’t have to take life totally seriously: it’s ok to enjoy what we do and how we do it. Maybe to make God smile at His creation even when we are all too busy to notice it!
Friday, November 17, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
I smell like a guy!
Paul (my 17-yr-old cousin) and I decided that we need to get up early and go jogging in the mornings; so this morning was our first! Wow! it was hard to get my eyes to open so early (pretty sad considering that I used to arrive at school last year at the time I got up this morning!). But it felt good to be up and awake once I finally was!
We wear our Coast Guard PT shirts when we go running sometimes, and the other night Paul accidentally put on my medium shirt after his shower rather than his large one. He made the trade when he realized the mistake, but the damage had already been done: my shirt was clean but it smelled like Paul's Axe brand deodorant. So this morning I smell like a guy. I think I'll go take a shower =)
We wear our Coast Guard PT shirts when we go running sometimes, and the other night Paul accidentally put on my medium shirt after his shower rather than his large one. He made the trade when he realized the mistake, but the damage had already been done: my shirt was clean but it smelled like Paul's Axe brand deodorant. So this morning I smell like a guy. I think I'll go take a shower =)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
I support Coast Guard Search and Rescue
OK, OK, I know that I haven't updated in a LOOOOOOONG while, during which time lots of things happened. But rather than catching up all at once and perhaps never catching up, I'd better post something small and at least post something!
My brother is officially a Coastie now. He graduated from Coast Guard boot camp on Friday, August 11, 2006, and this very proud sister was there to watch. . . . but only barely! The trip was supposed to take us 3 hours, so we left 3 and one-half hours early. For some reason, every time we drove in PA or NJ, it seemed to take us longer than supposed to (no, we weren't driving too slowly, either!). That particular morning, we had directions from AAA in our hands that first of all told us the wrong name for a street we were supposed to turn on, leading us back and forth past the street we were supposed to be turning on. Then, we hit the change from one highway to another and were in the left lane to merge onto the eastbound hwy when the very next sign we drove under (right before the merge!) told us we were in the westboundlane! Too late to switch! We began heading west, looking for a place to pull off and turn around and noticing that the other side of the hwy was HIGHLY congested. Then were saw a sign at the side of the road telling us were actually eastbound. huh? we pulled off at the first exit to check it out and gas up the car--sure enough we HAD been going the correct way--praise the Lord!!! The final glitch occurred when Garden State Parkway dead-ended into 109S and our directions told us to take 109N which meant turning right. But Mom and Dad had said that we were supposed to stay straight. So we made a u-turn to go back to 109S. Looking at the directions, we found that they included a u-turn, too. Bother! Still we made it to the graduation ceremony in time and cheered as loudly as we could for Thomas. Then I bought a bumper sticker that said "US Coast Guard: Support Search and Rescue--Get lost!" I figured it applied. =)
My brother is officially a Coastie now. He graduated from Coast Guard boot camp on Friday, August 11, 2006, and this very proud sister was there to watch. . . . but only barely! The trip was supposed to take us 3 hours, so we left 3 and one-half hours early. For some reason, every time we drove in PA or NJ, it seemed to take us longer than supposed to (no, we weren't driving too slowly, either!). That particular morning, we had directions from AAA in our hands that first of all told us the wrong name for a street we were supposed to turn on, leading us back and forth past the street we were supposed to be turning on. Then, we hit the change from one highway to another and were in the left lane to merge onto the eastbound hwy when the very next sign we drove under (right before the merge!) told us we were in the westboundlane! Too late to switch! We began heading west, looking for a place to pull off and turn around and noticing that the other side of the hwy was HIGHLY congested. Then were saw a sign at the side of the road telling us were actually eastbound. huh? we pulled off at the first exit to check it out and gas up the car--sure enough we HAD been going the correct way--praise the Lord!!! The final glitch occurred when Garden State Parkway dead-ended into 109S and our directions told us to take 109N which meant turning right. But Mom and Dad had said that we were supposed to stay straight. So we made a u-turn to go back to 109S. Looking at the directions, we found that they included a u-turn, too. Bother! Still we made it to the graduation ceremony in time and cheered as loudly as we could for Thomas. Then I bought a bumper sticker that said "US Coast Guard: Support Search and Rescue--Get lost!" I figured it applied. =)
Thursday, June 29, 2006
There's a Hole in My Brain
to be sung to the tune of "There's a Hole in My Bucket"
There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.
Then fix it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then fix it, Dear Ruthie,
Fix it.
There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy,
No brain.
Then buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.
I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.
There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie,
A sale.
But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy,
I'm broke.
But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie,
Three jobs.
But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy,
One job.
Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.
But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.
Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie,
Your book.
But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy,
No pics.
Then Google it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then Google it, Dear Ruthie,
Google it.
But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy,
I'm scared.
Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie,
Picture.
But you need it more, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
'Cause there's a hole in your brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.
At least I have one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
At least I have one, Dear Ruthie,
Have one.
But I can buy one at Cosco, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I can buy one at Costco, Dear Joysy,
Buy one.
There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's a hole in my brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.
Then fix it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then fix it, Dear Ruthie,
Fix it.
There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
There's no brain in my head, Dear Joysy,
No brain.
Then buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.
I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
I don't know where to buy one, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.
There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
There's a sale on at Costco, Dear Ruthie,
A sale.
But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't have any money, Dear Joysy,
I'm broke.
But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
But you're working three jobs, Dear Ruthie,
Three jobs.
But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm only working one job, Dear Joysy,
One job.
Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then use your money to buy one, Dear Ruthie,
Buy one.
But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I don't know what one looks like, Dear Joysy,
Don't know.
Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Use your Biology book, Dear Ruthie,
Your book.
But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But it doesn't have a picture, Dear Joysy,
No pics.
Then Google it, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Then Google it, Dear Ruthie,
Google it.
But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I'm scared of Google images, Dear Joysy,
I'm scared.
Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
Here's a picture, then, Dear Ruthie,
Picture.
But you need it more, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
'Cause there's a hole in your brain, Dear Joysy,
A hole.
At least I have one, Dear Ruthie, Dear Ruthie.
At least I have one, Dear Ruthie,
Have one.
But I can buy one at Cosco, Dear Joysy, Dear Joysy.
But I can buy one at Costco, Dear Joysy,
Buy one.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Noticeboard
If You Notice
If you noticed this notice,
You will notice
That this notice
Is not worth noticing.
Fountas, Irene C. and Gay Su Pinnell. Sing a Song of Poetry. Portsmouth, NH: FirstHand, 2004.
If you noticed this notice,
You will notice
That this notice
Is not worth noticing.
Fountas, Irene C. and Gay Su Pinnell. Sing a Song of Poetry. Portsmouth, NH: FirstHand, 2004.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
New Twists in the fabric of things
Life is officially mixed up--my sister is now old enough to wear (and look good in, I might add) my clothes. At first I thought it was cool. Then I pondered getting annoyed. Then I realized that it was a MAJOR compliment that my clothes are cool enough for her to wear.
My aunt is back in the States from Nigeria and realized that, staying Stateside, she's going to need a new wardrobe. She and my mom have been shopping for three days. They found many good deals. We looked at many new outfits and nodded or shook our heads or oohed and aahed as appropriate. We had a fashion show tonight while my sister was away at the LC GB (LC=Living Candles, the name of her youth group; GB=graduation banquet for those who just graduated from high school--everyone comes to see the seniors off to college, or, as my sis says, to celebrate their leaving).
Listening to my sister tell about GB, I am reminded of reasons I am glad I'm no longer a high-schooler. Reasons that make me smile. Reasons I'll keep to myself.
My aunt is back in the States from Nigeria and realized that, staying Stateside, she's going to need a new wardrobe. She and my mom have been shopping for three days. They found many good deals. We looked at many new outfits and nodded or shook our heads or oohed and aahed as appropriate. We had a fashion show tonight while my sister was away at the LC GB (LC=Living Candles, the name of her youth group; GB=graduation banquet for those who just graduated from high school--everyone comes to see the seniors off to college, or, as my sis says, to celebrate their leaving).
Listening to my sister tell about GB, I am reminded of reasons I am glad I'm no longer a high-schooler. Reasons that make me smile. Reasons I'll keep to myself.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
First Day of School--Summer School, that is
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Well, Summer School started today with a splash--no, with a series of disturbing beeps.
Actually, my day began with the buzzing of my cell phone's alarm clock at an hour that was WAY too early. But I got up. You know, it really is pleasant to be awake early in the morning (around sunrise) . . . once one gets over the initial "un-awake" feeling. But at this time of year, morning is beautiful--fresh, clean, unpopulated.
I'm responsible for my campus's before-school-care program. So I'm supposed to open up at 7am to take in the kids that arrive early. Well, I was running a little late (amazing how no matter how early I start, I still end up running a little late!), and showed up to open the gates at exactly 7am. Already there was one kid waiting at the door for me, another approaching with grandparents in tow. No, scratch that last one. Amendment: his grandparents were approaching with him in tow. They are very nice people, peppy and excited about their grandkids and everything associated with them, especially since the oldest is just out of kindergarten and ready to start first grade in summer school this year. I suspect that they are still new grandparents.
So now I have an audience for the opening of the doors. Bother! Oh, well. I get out my nifty set of keys (I LOVE having keys to the buildings I work in!) and wave my card in front of the alarm box. If I remember right, it's supposed to beep and then click the door open for 5 seconds so I can get inside without opening the main doors (someone opens them an hour later when more people are coming). So the box beeps but there's no click and the door remains locked. Bother! I try again. And again. Still nothing, so I turn to my audience and announce that my keys do not work (to which the grandpa replies that he has surmised as much). I attempt to call one of my bosses. I get his voice mail and decide not to leave a message. Then I bethink me of my other keys--perhaps one of them will open the door and I can at least get into the building. [I have visions of myself standing outside the building all morning until someone else arrives with a key; I can see myself telling the parents "oh, we will be having before-school care outside today!"; I can see the parents not being very thrilled and not seeing the humor of the situation; and I laugh inside at the humor of it anyway.]
The key works to get us into the building where the alarm is beeping, calmly letting us know that the building knows we are there without any right to be there and that the situation is being dealt with. I seat the kids on the steps, rummage in my bag for the paper that tells me how to call the alarm company, and run into the office to call the company. The lady at the company walks me through turning off the alarm, and the day proceeds as normal--as "normally" as the first day of summer school ever proceeds!
Actually, my two 2nd grade classes really went well. There came a couple moments when the kids were sitting spellbound at my description of what would happen to them if they misbehaved when I realized that if I thought about the total theatricality of the moment I would laugh. So I stopped thinking about their faces looking at me in awe and fear and proceeded to remind them that they did want to follow the rules because life would be so much more wonderful if they did. Teaching really is a performance much of the time!
And then there are the moments when you know you can't laugh until later when you can talk about the incidents in the teachers' lounge--today I had a kid singing in the bathroom. I'd never had that situation to deal with before! He is the kind of kid that thinks class clown is a job description he can apply for. So when his chance came to use his nifty new restroom pass, he decided to make it a memorable trip. He started to hum as he approached the bathroom door (our classroom has a bathroom at the back of it) and then he began to sing when the door was closed. Of course the other kids thought he was funny, and all 24 of them began to giggle. I waited to see if he'd stop, wondering "ok, how do I handle THIS one?" He didn't stop. Finally I banged on the door. When he called oh! so sweetly "Who is it?" I firmly told him, in my deepest, sternest voice (as reminiscent of my father's as I could make it), to stop. "Ok," he meekly replied and stopped. I explained to the class that he would not be laughing about it later when he got in trouble for it; I also talked to him after class about his misbehaviors (of which the bathroom incident was only one). Yes, I did my own laughing about the incident when I recounted it to the teachers I ate lunch with.
It truly has been a memorable first day. Funny how the things that make it memorable are not the fact that I have a huge class and the fact that my first-day-of-school class time went better than ever; the things that make a day memorable are the out-of-the-ordinary things. Theatrical moments.
Tomorrow my key should work. We tested it before I left school today. Maybe tomorrow won't be very memorable.
Well, Summer School started today with a splash--no, with a series of disturbing beeps.
Actually, my day began with the buzzing of my cell phone's alarm clock at an hour that was WAY too early. But I got up. You know, it really is pleasant to be awake early in the morning (around sunrise) . . . once one gets over the initial "un-awake" feeling. But at this time of year, morning is beautiful--fresh, clean, unpopulated.
I'm responsible for my campus's before-school-care program. So I'm supposed to open up at 7am to take in the kids that arrive early. Well, I was running a little late (amazing how no matter how early I start, I still end up running a little late!), and showed up to open the gates at exactly 7am. Already there was one kid waiting at the door for me, another approaching with grandparents in tow. No, scratch that last one. Amendment: his grandparents were approaching with him in tow. They are very nice people, peppy and excited about their grandkids and everything associated with them, especially since the oldest is just out of kindergarten and ready to start first grade in summer school this year. I suspect that they are still new grandparents.
So now I have an audience for the opening of the doors. Bother! Oh, well. I get out my nifty set of keys (I LOVE having keys to the buildings I work in!) and wave my card in front of the alarm box. If I remember right, it's supposed to beep and then click the door open for 5 seconds so I can get inside without opening the main doors (someone opens them an hour later when more people are coming). So the box beeps but there's no click and the door remains locked. Bother! I try again. And again. Still nothing, so I turn to my audience and announce that my keys do not work (to which the grandpa replies that he has surmised as much). I attempt to call one of my bosses. I get his voice mail and decide not to leave a message. Then I bethink me of my other keys--perhaps one of them will open the door and I can at least get into the building. [I have visions of myself standing outside the building all morning until someone else arrives with a key; I can see myself telling the parents "oh, we will be having before-school care outside today!"; I can see the parents not being very thrilled and not seeing the humor of the situation; and I laugh inside at the humor of it anyway.]
The key works to get us into the building where the alarm is beeping, calmly letting us know that the building knows we are there without any right to be there and that the situation is being dealt with. I seat the kids on the steps, rummage in my bag for the paper that tells me how to call the alarm company, and run into the office to call the company. The lady at the company walks me through turning off the alarm, and the day proceeds as normal--as "normally" as the first day of summer school ever proceeds!
Actually, my two 2nd grade classes really went well. There came a couple moments when the kids were sitting spellbound at my description of what would happen to them if they misbehaved when I realized that if I thought about the total theatricality of the moment I would laugh. So I stopped thinking about their faces looking at me in awe and fear and proceeded to remind them that they did want to follow the rules because life would be so much more wonderful if they did. Teaching really is a performance much of the time!
And then there are the moments when you know you can't laugh until later when you can talk about the incidents in the teachers' lounge--today I had a kid singing in the bathroom. I'd never had that situation to deal with before! He is the kind of kid that thinks class clown is a job description he can apply for. So when his chance came to use his nifty new restroom pass, he decided to make it a memorable trip. He started to hum as he approached the bathroom door (our classroom has a bathroom at the back of it) and then he began to sing when the door was closed. Of course the other kids thought he was funny, and all 24 of them began to giggle. I waited to see if he'd stop, wondering "ok, how do I handle THIS one?" He didn't stop. Finally I banged on the door. When he called oh! so sweetly "Who is it?" I firmly told him, in my deepest, sternest voice (as reminiscent of my father's as I could make it), to stop. "Ok," he meekly replied and stopped. I explained to the class that he would not be laughing about it later when he got in trouble for it; I also talked to him after class about his misbehaviors (of which the bathroom incident was only one). Yes, I did my own laughing about the incident when I recounted it to the teachers I ate lunch with.
It truly has been a memorable first day. Funny how the things that make it memorable are not the fact that I have a huge class and the fact that my first-day-of-school class time went better than ever; the things that make a day memorable are the out-of-the-ordinary things. Theatrical moments.
Tomorrow my key should work. We tested it before I left school today. Maybe tomorrow won't be very memorable.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
A drink a Starburst would be proud of
Tonight Mom, Ruth, and I went to our chiropractor and, as usual, made a "ladies night out" of it. I know, "chiropractor" doesn’t sound all that exciting, but we really enjoy it because we all go into the same room and we laugh a lot when we update him on our lives and hear how his is going. Then we all three usually get a massage before we leave--oh, so nice! Anyway, on our way home we stopped at Jamba Juice where I got the best smoothie ever! It really tastes like a Starburst. Or maybe a cross between a Starburst and a sour Skittles mouthful. So sweet and sour at the same time! I think it's my new favorite Jamba Juice drink.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Spider Killer
There's a fairy tale about the tailor who killed 7 flies with one blow and was so proud of himself that he stitched "7 with one blow" on his belt and went out into the world to try his fortune; as fairy tales usually go, everyone read his belt, mistook the 7 for seven men, and were duly afraid of him. Well, folks, be afraid, be very afraid. My count today has mounted into the double digits, I am sure. (kindly ignore the fact that I do not have a very good head for remembering numbers). No, I was not killing flies, nor was I out felling people, but today I became the spider's nemesis. Tomorrow is Tommy's grad and going-away party, so Mom set me to cleaning the house. Proverbs says that spiders are in kings' houses and that we are to learn something from this (probably a lesson of diligence or perseverance or espionage); I don't know about kings' houses, but I do know that they are in our house! We have these tiny spiders that don't build big webs and instead lurk in corners of shelves and windows and eat bugs tinier than themselves. I declared war on them. And I won the skirmish today. Everything I picked up to dust seemed to have one on it; every time I . . . Why in the world am I describing this???
When we first moved to California, my very first task was to clean out the spider-infested shed at the back of our rental house. "Welcome to California, the land where spiders never die by natural means!" My response? Die, spiders! Die!
I used to watch Spiderman as a kid: I loved that show. But perhaps he shouldn't come to live and work in my town: I'm really not too keen on webs anymore.
On a totally different tack--tonight my big little brother graduated from high school! The ceremony was lots of fun (long, yes, but fun). Hearing the aspirations of the seniors was exciting and interesting. A girls' quintet sang one of my favorite songs: "Shine on Me"--their harmony gave me chills. It was so beautiful! Oh, and I noticed two pink ties in the bunch: Thomas wore one, a nice respectable shade of light pink; and one other guy wore a pink tie--a hot pink one over a black shirt. So much for fashion reporting.
When we first moved to California, my very first task was to clean out the spider-infested shed at the back of our rental house. "Welcome to California, the land where spiders never die by natural means!" My response? Die, spiders! Die!
I used to watch Spiderman as a kid: I loved that show. But perhaps he shouldn't come to live and work in my town: I'm really not too keen on webs anymore.
On a totally different tack--tonight my big little brother graduated from high school! The ceremony was lots of fun (long, yes, but fun). Hearing the aspirations of the seniors was exciting and interesting. A girls' quintet sang one of my favorite songs: "Shine on Me"--their harmony gave me chills. It was so beautiful! Oh, and I noticed two pink ties in the bunch: Thomas wore one, a nice respectable shade of light pink; and one other guy wore a pink tie--a hot pink one over a black shirt. So much for fashion reporting.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Alternate fuels
This week I had grades due again (sorta--I just had to know who would get honor roll or not). This meant, of course, that I would have to stay up late to get some grading done. The problem--we had Crispix but were out of Dr. Pepper. Jonathan proffered Wild Cherry Pepsi as the best alternative, and it worked; but it just wasn't as good as DP. The consolation was that we had a bag of crunchy Cheetos in the house. So the grading fuel for Tuesday night was Wild Cheery Pepsi and Cheetos, Wednesday night the same, and Thursday night back to DP and Crispix. To speak the truth, though, God was the one who helped me (as He always does) survive on less sleep and get my grades figured out to the point I needed them to be. Whereas sometimes grading takes forever, I could tell He was helping me speed up the process, especially in my worn-out, brain-dead state of exhaustion. Without His help, all the Cheetos, Pepsi, DP and Crispix in the world couldn't have kept me awake! Aint' He great! Last night, I crashed. Naomi couldn't help but laugh at me when I was too tired to crawl out of bed to get ready for bed. I think I could sleep for a week!
Monday, May 15, 2006
Goin’ to the ZOO, Zoo, zoo
. . . how about YOU, You, you? You can come TOO, Too, too . . . except that you can’t because the trip is over now. J My 5th/6th graders and I went to the
On the way home, I went the wrong way on I 170—south instead of north. Immediately, one of my students announced “we’re lost.” What would I do without my running commentary makers? Fortunately, I recognized the area and knew that I’d be able to get off and turn around at the next exit. It’s nice to know that I’m starting to learn
Monday, May 08, 2006
Shoes and Sauciness
I received some information today on my qualifications for Miss Universe and other celebrations of womanhood. Apparently, I do not make a very good specimen of femininity because of two major flaws: I hate shoes, and I detest purses. Yes, they are a necessity, but I hate shopping for them because I can never find the perfect shoe—both comfortable and cute (in the minds of the various people whose fashion senses may be pleased or offended by my footwear); nor can I ever find the perfect purse—one that is lightweight yet holds everything I need on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. Maybe I should opt for the original Mary Poppins bag in a trendier style.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Give me a Dr. Pepper any day!
I've heard that when DP first came on the market, it was billed as something to be imbibed for medicinal purposes as well as for novelty. I can't see what is so medicinal about it, but I do know that I enjoy the flavor--I can't believe I'm blogging about the virtues of a brand of soda pop! Shouldn't I get some sort of comission for this? Then again, what is there to be said for it but that it tastes good with its tangy-rich flavor and that it (like all other sodas) leaves a nasty aftertaste? This is going nowhere.
My college roomie Shannon really got me started on drinking Dr. Pepper in earnest when she had to have one each night and added a small shot of vanilla to it. Yes, the new flavor of cherry-vanilla DP is pretty good, but I much prefer the richness of just plain vanilla.
When we went to Branson this past month, we had the opportunity to try the new berries and cream flavor. Again, the makers of Dr. Pepper are messing with a good thing. But I guess that they think they can make more money if they change things. Give me a regular Dr. Pepper anyday, and I'll be happy!
My college roomie Shannon really got me started on drinking Dr. Pepper in earnest when she had to have one each night and added a small shot of vanilla to it. Yes, the new flavor of cherry-vanilla DP is pretty good, but I much prefer the richness of just plain vanilla.
When we went to Branson this past month, we had the opportunity to try the new berries and cream flavor. Again, the makers of Dr. Pepper are messing with a good thing. But I guess that they think they can make more money if they change things. Give me a regular Dr. Pepper anyday, and I'll be happy!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Crispix and Dr. Pepper
Did you know that Crispix cereal and Dr. Pepper are great tools for staying awake till grades are done and in? You should try it some time, but don't ask how late I stayed up! Now I can breathe something akin to a sigh of relief . . . until the next grading period when report cards have to go home =)
Monday, May 01, 2006
Just for the Record
OK, just for the record, I really hate grading! I know that some days I like it, in some situations I even love it! but tonight . . . yuk! Yes, it's progress report time. That's when it stresses me out. Maybe next week I'll like it again--naw! it's May, school's almost out, and there's TONS to do. Maybe next month I'll like it again =)
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Losing someone
Speaking of the quartet—David is leaving us. It’s for a good cause: he’s going into the Air Force. But I am really going to miss him! And the quartet isn’t going to be the same, of course, (duh, Joy!) and I will miss relying on his strong bass voice to help me get my parts sometimes =)
Yikes! This makes it sound like he’s dying! He’s not, at least he better not! David, don’t you even consider such a thing! But I will miss singing with you!
Nailing it Down
OK, so the Easter cantata is over and we are all breathing a sigh of relief, but something is missing from our lives . . . oh, yes! Practicing music or drama at every free moment!
I must say that one of the highlights from this year’s round of practice times was practicing “The Empty Tomb” with the other members of the quartet (no, practicing it by myself would not have been a highlight). First of all, the song begins with this echo routine of the word “empty,” so Es and I began calling it the “my head is empty, empty, empty” song. Just more of our typical goofiness. We can’t seem to help it—many things (especially the little things in life) strike us as funny. We drove our pianist nearly crazy with our fits of laughter during practice (though methinks he protests too much). Second, one of the phrases in the song goes like this: “my Lord was crucified, my God was slain; they laid Him in the grave, and all seemed vain”; however as we practiced, I kept thinking that one of the members of our group was singing “they nailed Him in the grave”! I couldn’t tell for sure until one time we were singing by the piano and I heard it loud and clear. I stopped the practice and managed, between laughs, to gasp out “who keeps singing ‘nailed’?” When Jason confessed to it, we laughed even more. So he corrected it, and then Es found herself saying it without thinking!—more laughter. Finally, I think Harrison (our pianist) had had enough of our laughter and decided he needed to get the last laugh. So on our next song, as we were singing our a capella part, he slipped from the piano bench and hid in pastor’s office. We finished our part, expecting the piano to come in and carry us off into the next stanza, only to be greeted by silence. Stunned, we all, as a unit, turned to the piano to find it empty, empty, empty.
The consolation and justification for all the fun we have during practice is that when we sang the songs in the cantata we nailed them—just not literally =)
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Guest Writer: ME!
Wow Joy... You have so little posts. So I'll add one more ^_^ aren't I such a good goober. Now you will hear about the other goober... the one who sneaks into her own home on weekends ^_^
Only Tom and I knew that Joy was coming home Friday night. So of course we had to get dad and mom to stay up long enough to welcome home their sneaky daughter. Dad picked me up from youth group and said, "Tommy said someone was coming to visit tonite, do you know who it it?"
Me: "Yeah, it's the Homs isn't it?"
Dad: "Why would they come visit so late?"
Me: "uuh... maybe they were busy and couldn't come earlier... OR maybe they knew I had a game today and that I wouldn't get home until really late and wanted to see ME!!"
*laughs* at least we got him to stay up... but then, around 11:30 pm, Joy called. She was lost and needed directions. A dead giveaway. ^_^
Only Tom and I knew that Joy was coming home Friday night. So of course we had to get dad and mom to stay up long enough to welcome home their sneaky daughter. Dad picked me up from youth group and said, "Tommy said someone was coming to visit tonite, do you know who it it?"
Me: "Yeah, it's the Homs isn't it?"
Dad: "Why would they come visit so late?"
Me: "uuh... maybe they were busy and couldn't come earlier... OR maybe they knew I had a game today and that I wouldn't get home until really late and wanted to see ME!!"
*laughs* at least we got him to stay up... but then, around 11:30 pm, Joy called. She was lost and needed directions. A dead giveaway. ^_^
Monday, April 17, 2006
The blog that I would, that I do not
I’m sorry for not having written in so long. I’ve thought of lots of things to write, but never when I can write them. So I compose them in my head and then my short-term memory vacuum consumes them and I am left with nothing to write as I stare at the blank computer screen.
Then again, I’ve hardly been on the computer in the past three weeks. So, my apologies to those who have come to my site expecting something—anything—and found . . . nothing.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Unclear on the Concept
Having kindergarteners in my life is lots of fun. They are eager about life in general, but have a few misconceptions about it, too. Everything is new to them, but they have so much to learn!
Or . . . the purpose of college: did you know that we go to college so that we can get refrigerators? A representative from
And then there’s symbolism . . . Lost on the little ones, of course. Another chapel speaker at Christmas time was trying to give the students visual reminders of the true meaning of Christmas using various types of candy. He began by holding up a Baby Ruth candy bar and asking the students to fill in the blanks: “Jesus came to earth as a ___________.” He repeated his statement a couple of times, waiting for some bright student to read the wrapper and fill in the blank. While the older students were giving him blank looks and puzzling over the point he was trying to make,
Speaker: “Jesus came to earth as ____________”
Students and teachers: general and uproarious laughter from all who understood what had happened and from those just laughing because everyone else was laughing (they too were a little unclear on the concept).
Monday, March 06, 2006
Paper Stars
I don’t remember exactly how it started, but I’ve been seeing stars ever since. It probably was a product of my tendency to find something to occupy the idle hands and minds of those kids that I’m watching—whether babysitting or supervising in school or . . . well, you get the idea. Anyway, I began making paper/origami stars like my sister taught me this Christmas. Pretty soon I was addicted—and so were my students. They would sit at recess making origami stars instead of running around and playing house or standing around and talking about movies and boys and whatever else they felt like talking about. The addiction has worn off a little in all of us; but if one must have a fetish for something, I suppose that making paper stars isn’t a bad fetish to have. J
Sunday, February 26, 2006
More about blessings
For a really good poem and commentary on God's blessings and the way that we see them vs. the way that He sees them, go to my cousin's site: starlightstarbright.wordpress.com and read Feb 20, 2006 "Life Can Be Sad." She talks about how things happen in life that aren't supposed to happen in our way of thinking--they really are part of God's plan, though we can't figure out how they could possibly fit into a plan for a normal healthy life.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Pour You Out a . . . Blessing
Yay! I figured out how to give myself a title line for my blogs! That's a great accomplishment for someone as "websavvy" as me.
OK, so the dumb thing is that by the time I get to my own blog site, I'm so brain dead that not much makes sense and random things make me excited . . . oh, wait! that's normal for me. Anyway . . . What was I going to write about?
Ah, yes. Malachi 3:10
"Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse that there may be meat in mine house; and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it."
My 5th/6th grade students are learning about poetry these days, and we've been studying the lines of poetry and the way that they make certain words stand out to be noticed. So I let them try their hands at it with Malachi 3:10--they were to divide the prose verse up into lines of poetry wherever and however they chose to. The result? 6 different poems that emphasized different aspects of the verse.
As I read their poems to them, they wrote down the words in each that stood out and we talked about what made them stand out. We got the giggles over the fact that no matter where the word "meat" was placed in the poem, it always got the emphasis. But even that had a message too (one that was, perhaps a little over their heads at this time)--God's Word is to be meat to us, and the pastor's job is to feed the flock of God: how else is the pastor going to be able to give us meat if we do not supply God's house with the tithes and giving that we ought to?
By the last poem, I was very touched by the beauty of the poems and of the verse itself and of the promise given in it and, most of all, touched by the God who wrote that verse to begin with--wrote it so that everyword would have significance and beauty and power ("Every word of God is pure" Proverbs says!). The last poem brought tears to my eyes. The student (K. Montgomery) wrote the poem so that the word "blessing" would stand out
"and pour you out a
blessing.
That there shall not be room enough
to receive it."
That's about how it was, I think . . . if my memory serves me right.
Well, when I read it, the line endings require that the word "a" be drawn out a little and the word "blessing" be paused after (I know this is getting technical--please stay with me!). So it reads as follows: "pour you out a . . . blessing . . . That there shall not be room enough to receive it."
And as I read it to the class, I was struck by the realization that I often wonder what God will pour out for me. Pour me out a . . . flat tire? Pour me out a . . . headache? conflict? failure? I shudder and cringe at what God might pour out from those windows of heaven. But it's a blessing.
"Of course!" my brain realizes in relief. "A blessing! Isn't that what God promises? Why do I always doubt Him?" I wonder. And the tears come to my eyes as I remember that He does bless me over and over again--sometimes through tough times, yes, but always always blessing me. And it's always, somehow, a surprise.
OK, so the dumb thing is that by the time I get to my own blog site, I'm so brain dead that not much makes sense and random things make me excited . . . oh, wait! that's normal for me. Anyway . . . What was I going to write about?
Ah, yes. Malachi 3:10
"Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse that there may be meat in mine house; and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it."
My 5th/6th grade students are learning about poetry these days, and we've been studying the lines of poetry and the way that they make certain words stand out to be noticed. So I let them try their hands at it with Malachi 3:10--they were to divide the prose verse up into lines of poetry wherever and however they chose to. The result? 6 different poems that emphasized different aspects of the verse.
As I read their poems to them, they wrote down the words in each that stood out and we talked about what made them stand out. We got the giggles over the fact that no matter where the word "meat" was placed in the poem, it always got the emphasis. But even that had a message too (one that was, perhaps a little over their heads at this time)--God's Word is to be meat to us, and the pastor's job is to feed the flock of God: how else is the pastor going to be able to give us meat if we do not supply God's house with the tithes and giving that we ought to?
By the last poem, I was very touched by the beauty of the poems and of the verse itself and of the promise given in it and, most of all, touched by the God who wrote that verse to begin with--wrote it so that everyword would have significance and beauty and power ("Every word of God is pure" Proverbs says!). The last poem brought tears to my eyes. The student (K. Montgomery) wrote the poem so that the word "blessing" would stand out
"and pour you out a
blessing.
That there shall not be room enough
to receive it."
That's about how it was, I think . . . if my memory serves me right.
Well, when I read it, the line endings require that the word "a" be drawn out a little and the word "blessing" be paused after (I know this is getting technical--please stay with me!). So it reads as follows: "pour you out a . . . blessing . . . That there shall not be room enough to receive it."
And as I read it to the class, I was struck by the realization that I often wonder what God will pour out for me. Pour me out a . . . flat tire? Pour me out a . . . headache? conflict? failure? I shudder and cringe at what God might pour out from those windows of heaven. But it's a blessing.
"Of course!" my brain realizes in relief. "A blessing! Isn't that what God promises? Why do I always doubt Him?" I wonder. And the tears come to my eyes as I remember that He does bless me over and over again--sometimes through tough times, yes, but always always blessing me. And it's always, somehow, a surprise.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
A Good Name
Proverbs says "A good name is better to be chosen than great riches; and loving favor than silver and gold."
Well, it has taken me forever to come up with a name for this blog! And now I have one finally =) OK, maybe a cheesy name, but still a name that I can work with and that is unique (I suppose the unique factor is highly overrated, but it is still a factor, I'm afraid).
Having the name Joy, people naturally make my name into puns and turn to look at me when songs that have word "joy" in them are sung sometimes. But it also means that I have nicknames that elongate my name rather than shortening it. Hence, the name Joybells. So, here's a nod to those who have dubbed me with that apellation. I thank you. And I sincerely hope that you might get some joy from reading the little nothings that I post here now and then.
Proverbs says "A good name is better to be chosen than great riches; and loving favor than silver and gold."
Well, it has taken me forever to come up with a name for this blog! And now I have one finally =) OK, maybe a cheesy name, but still a name that I can work with and that is unique (I suppose the unique factor is highly overrated, but it is still a factor, I'm afraid).
Having the name Joy, people naturally make my name into puns and turn to look at me when songs that have word "joy" in them are sung sometimes. But it also means that I have nicknames that elongate my name rather than shortening it. Hence, the name Joybells. So, here's a nod to those who have dubbed me with that apellation. I thank you. And I sincerely hope that you might get some joy from reading the little nothings that I post here now and then.
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