Every year at Christmas when I was a kid, Mom and Dad or Grandpa and Grandma would get my family an advent calendar. Starting on the first of December, we would open one box or door each day, revealing either a piece of the Christmas story or a piece of candy. Since moving out of the house, I no longer take part with them in this Christmas tradition, but the wonder of it still fascinates me.
This year, I wanted to send everyone an advent calendar of sorts. Of course, December 1st is long gone. And I don't have any candy to send--at least, not very easily and not to everyone. So I came up with this half-baked idea: twelve sets of thoughts about Christmas that have occur to me this year. I will post them on Facebook and also on my blog Joyous Thirst. I would love to read your comments on them in either spot (or via e-mail!).
These notes truly will be "half-baked," merely the beginnings of thoughts about Christmas, but things that have blessed me and will hopefully bless you. Mix them with your own thoughts about Christmas, and giving them a decent baking. And may they be as refreshing and fun as Christmas candy or Christmas cookies . . . minus the fat content.
Merry Christmas everyone. May you be more aware of God's love for you this Christmas than you were last Christmas. I love you all!
Live long and prosper!
~Joy =)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
Don't Forget the . . . ice scraper?
What a night! Last night was a late night at work for me--partly my fault, though. I needed to finish preparing the lessons for Sylvan's Friday students, so that meant staying late after all the other students and teachers went home. Only this time, my boss Michelle stayed, too, because she had some work to do . . . and for one other reason: she wanted to see her nephew on TV. He was on the new show Don't Forget the Lyrics, and she knew that if she left for home, she'd not get there in time to see him. So she turned on the TV in the conference room and did her work on the computer in there, promising to call me when he came on. He was the last contestant of the night. And by the time he was on, my work was nearly done. He did pretty well, too--working the crowd even if he didn't quite know all the lyrics. Michelle and I were working and laughing and cheering him on and exclaiming on the amazingness of the fact that he was on the show. We were so loud! There was still 15 minutes left of the show by the time my work was done, so I clocked out and stayed for the finale, finding some little things to do around the office. On commercials, Michelle was calling her family to share the moment with them. I enjoy my work at Sylvan, but things are rarely this exciting. He walked away with $50,000! Someone that someone I know knows walked away with $50,000! Wow!
But that was only the beginning of the night. After the show, I grabbed my stuff to go, and I saw that a lady whose son I tutor (not associated with Sylvan) had called me during work to leave me a message about getting me a check for the week's tutoring work. Expecting to meet her somewhere near her house, I called her back . . . to find out that she had been waiting in a nearby parking lot for me to get off of work. She had been waiting there for about 40 minutes! I hadn't seen the car because she hadn't attempted to drive up the icy parking lot (it had been sleeting since the late afternoon and our lot wasn't cleared at all). She and I agreed to meet at the gas station down the hill.
I went out to see about starting my car and getting it warmed up so I could go. I also wanted to check on Michelle, who had started her car to get it warming up, to find out how much longer she was going to be staying there. I found her rummaging around for her ice scraper which had mysteriously disappeared (probably borrowed and not returned earlier in the year). Fortunately, I had mine in my car. I sent her back inside to finish up and close up while I attacked her car with the scraper. "Attacked" is the only word that fits that moment's activity: the ice was pretty thick and hard. And I began to fear I would put a hole through her back window (her car is a convertible)! But at last her car was mostly done. And by then the ice on mine was a bit softer.
All the while I was scraping the ice off of my car--it was going far too slowly!--I kept thinking of the parent waiting for me and wondering where I was down at the gas station. I decided not to try to tackle the seemingly impenatrable ice sheet covering the passenger-side windows. I figured I'd be able to see through them well enough to last me the drive down the hill, and I climbed in my car to leave. Sure enough, backing up was ok. But pulling out was a different matter: I couldn't see out the window! Not even lights! How would I know if someone were coming? "I wonder what would happen if I rolled the window down," I thought with a mixture of curiosity, desperation, and laughter at my predicament. I figured I'd give it a try. The window rolled slowly down. The ice sheet stayed in place. I began to laugh out loud. There was a small hole in the ice--small enough to let me see that the coast was clear, so I pulled out. All the way down the hill, with a windshield still gritty from snow (the wipers were still too frozen to use)and a pane of ice for one window, I prayed aloud, laughing and praying and hoping there was nothing valuable in my path because I probably wouldn't see it till afterwards!
I have never been so grateful for a stoplight in my life. By rolling down my driver-side window, I was able to see the line for the turn lane, and I slowly pulled into it as my light turned from yellow to red. I was glad to just sit there and enjoy the red light and the fact that I didn't have to go yet. It gave me time to ponder the turn I needed to make to get to the gas station--strategy was going to have to make up for my inability to see very well. It also gave me time to ponder the pane of ice in my window and to wonder if i could push it out onto the street. I grabbed the long handle of my ice scraper and used it to push against the ice sheet. The good news was that I could move the ice and could push it out of the window. The bad news was that half of it fell into my car rather than out of it. But my window was freed, the light turned green, and I made it to the gas station. Still laughing at my predicament.
After meeting with the lady who had so patiently waited for me for an hour, I attacked the rest of the ice on my car, determined to drive no further until I knew that I'd be able to see out of my windows--all of them, not just the driver's side window. And then I drove home "laughing all the way"--to borrow the lyrics to a familiar song!
Nights like that don't happen very often, that's for sure! They're definitely worth enjoying =)
But that was only the beginning of the night. After the show, I grabbed my stuff to go, and I saw that a lady whose son I tutor (not associated with Sylvan) had called me during work to leave me a message about getting me a check for the week's tutoring work. Expecting to meet her somewhere near her house, I called her back . . . to find out that she had been waiting in a nearby parking lot for me to get off of work. She had been waiting there for about 40 minutes! I hadn't seen the car because she hadn't attempted to drive up the icy parking lot (it had been sleeting since the late afternoon and our lot wasn't cleared at all). She and I agreed to meet at the gas station down the hill.
I went out to see about starting my car and getting it warmed up so I could go. I also wanted to check on Michelle, who had started her car to get it warming up, to find out how much longer she was going to be staying there. I found her rummaging around for her ice scraper which had mysteriously disappeared (probably borrowed and not returned earlier in the year). Fortunately, I had mine in my car. I sent her back inside to finish up and close up while I attacked her car with the scraper. "Attacked" is the only word that fits that moment's activity: the ice was pretty thick and hard. And I began to fear I would put a hole through her back window (her car is a convertible)! But at last her car was mostly done. And by then the ice on mine was a bit softer.
All the while I was scraping the ice off of my car--it was going far too slowly!--I kept thinking of the parent waiting for me and wondering where I was down at the gas station. I decided not to try to tackle the seemingly impenatrable ice sheet covering the passenger-side windows. I figured I'd be able to see through them well enough to last me the drive down the hill, and I climbed in my car to leave. Sure enough, backing up was ok. But pulling out was a different matter: I couldn't see out the window! Not even lights! How would I know if someone were coming? "I wonder what would happen if I rolled the window down," I thought with a mixture of curiosity, desperation, and laughter at my predicament. I figured I'd give it a try. The window rolled slowly down. The ice sheet stayed in place. I began to laugh out loud. There was a small hole in the ice--small enough to let me see that the coast was clear, so I pulled out. All the way down the hill, with a windshield still gritty from snow (the wipers were still too frozen to use)and a pane of ice for one window, I prayed aloud, laughing and praying and hoping there was nothing valuable in my path because I probably wouldn't see it till afterwards!
I have never been so grateful for a stoplight in my life. By rolling down my driver-side window, I was able to see the line for the turn lane, and I slowly pulled into it as my light turned from yellow to red. I was glad to just sit there and enjoy the red light and the fact that I didn't have to go yet. It gave me time to ponder the turn I needed to make to get to the gas station--strategy was going to have to make up for my inability to see very well. It also gave me time to ponder the pane of ice in my window and to wonder if i could push it out onto the street. I grabbed the long handle of my ice scraper and used it to push against the ice sheet. The good news was that I could move the ice and could push it out of the window. The bad news was that half of it fell into my car rather than out of it. But my window was freed, the light turned green, and I made it to the gas station. Still laughing at my predicament.
After meeting with the lady who had so patiently waited for me for an hour, I attacked the rest of the ice on my car, determined to drive no further until I knew that I'd be able to see out of my windows--all of them, not just the driver's side window. And then I drove home "laughing all the way"--to borrow the lyrics to a familiar song!
Nights like that don't happen very often, that's for sure! They're definitely worth enjoying =)
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