Blizzard on I-80

I realized that I said I was going to blog about my road trip to Wyoming but never got around to it. In the post-holiday boredom I thought it was a good time to catch up…. actually I am just avoiding doing dishes.

I got up early and drove north of the 15 for a long long long time. That part of the trip was both uneventful and somewhat boring. Don’t get me wrong-I love to drive. I mean I really love to drive, however sometimes it gets quite lonely. Nevertheless I had my podcasts and overactive imagination to keep me company.

South of Salt Lake the rain started and was very heavy. Not a big deal as I am a capable of driving a Saturn through wind, sleet, rain, and snow (much like the postal service). Once I turned east on the 80 things got a little more treacherous. As I climbed in elevation towards Parley’s summit the torrential rain turned into a blizzard of epic proportions. Not far out of Salt Lake I saw a sign that said, “Chains Required”. Now, most of you may know that when there is a sign requiring chains you do one of two things; either pull over and put on your chains or turn around. I chose option three: keep driving like I hadn’t seen the signs. After all the sign was not very specific…it didn’t say, “Hey, any cars that are very light and are built out of plastic parts like Legos this sign also applies to you”. At the very least I thought that if chains were really required then there would be someone checking to make sure stupid people followed the rules. Needless to say, no one stopped me.

I kept driving in the left lane following the row of cars up the summit towards the Wyoming border. As I was driving the snow was incredible, if you’ve never driven in a snowstorm then this is impossible to describe because the sense of isolation is tremendous. The snow is mesmerizing as it comes right at the car and then swoops around the windshield at the last second. It looks a lot like “Warp Speed Chewy” mode from the original Star Wars. Added to the hypnotic flakes is the absolute darkness of the world around, as the snow blankets the sky and ground the only illumination comes from the headlights that light up the flakes like a wall about 5 feet in front of the vehicle and occasionally there is a street light that makes a cone of white blizzard that reminds me of a glitter lava lamp.

After what seemed like a lifetime, I started to notice a few things, the roads were getting more slippery, the snow was getting thicker, the trucks had all pulled to the side of the road, there were not lights on the west bound side of the road, and all of the cars that were the same size as mine were stuck at varying degrees of haphazardness in the right lanes of the interstate. I knew that as long as I kept driving then I wouldn’t get stuck and wouldn’t have to explain to some patronizing and overly concerned good ol’ boy that I ignored the chains warning. So I stayed behind the SUV I had been following and just kept creeping along. The long line of cars was going approximately 5 miles an hour... sometimes hitting top speeds of 7 mph. As the line got closer to the summit it thinned out and the cars that had 4 wheel drive speed off to Evanston and I was left with the handful of semi trucks that were still creeping along and a whole lot of nothing.

This is when the crazy set in. I was terrified that I would get stuck and not be able to get unstuck before someone rammed into my car. I just kept thinking about possible heroic deeds that I would have to perform to get out of these horrible death inducing scenarios. I settled that if I got stuck I would use the car mats as traction and just leave them on the road somewhere in east Utah. All I could focus on was; keep driving, keep driving, keep driving, keep driving. If there had been a snapshot of that moment I would be headed toward bedlam for sure; wearing my traveling clothes (flip-flops, pajama pants, old t-shirt, ugly brown sweater), a death grip on the steering wheel, no sound, no distractions, rocking back and forth, muttering to myself and paranoid searching for cars that would probably kill me if for some reason I got stuck.

Fast-forward about 3 hours of this rocking and muttering and I realized that I had another crisis; I had drunk a very large Diet Coke about 5 hours before and now bladder capacity was reaching threat level midnight. Again, so many scenarios flew through my mind most of them ending in death by freezing, being hit by a semi, or dying of carbon monoxide inhalation from being trapped a snow bank and running my engine (curse you Hunter’s Safety classes in middle school!). I had come to two options; the first (which was becoming more and more of a possibility) was just peeing and then cleaning it up later when I was not in a death or death situation, the second was to pull of the road and hope that I wouldn’t get stuck. After about an hour of deliberation (and 20 miles or so of road) I couldn’t hold it anymore. By this time there was no one around. No semis, no d-bags in giant pick-ups, no one! Pulling over was dangerous because I was worried that I wouldn’t get going again and would have to employ the car mat crisis procedure. I saw a bridge up ahead and realized this may be my only chance at relief. I pulled into the right lane and stopped. Not on the shoulder, not in the barrow pit, IN THE RIGHT LANE. I opened my door put one foot out and took care of business quickly. Needless to say it’s not every day my bare behind is in a blizzard. Luckily, I had stopped under the bridge so it didn’t take much to get going again and I just kept driving.

I finally had driven the 120 miles or so to Evanston and pulled over there after calling WyoRoads to find out that 80 was closed for the next 100 miles or so. I got a motel room and settled in for the night. The next morning, I got up at 6 and followed the plows out on a clear morning that can only happen in the high dry mountain ranges of Wyoming. The dry snow crunched and squeaked…but more than that it sparkled like someone had flung glitter over the hills and valleys. There are few sights that are more breath taking than freshly fallen snow on a day when the sky is achingly blue and there is nothing buy white in every direction as far as the eye can see. It seems like the whole world has been washed clean and can start over new. The air has a crisp quality about that burns the lungs but also makes you want to breath deep as if you could inhale the freshness and turn it into something tangible. It makes you want to live a little closer to the Earth and spend more time out side where the distractions are less engaging and the quiet moments stretch to span hopes and dreams.

When Are the Tadpoles Coming?

When are the tadpoles coming I wonder?
What is this package under the tree?
Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohno Oh NO!


When are the tadpoles coming I wonder?

While futzing online during my trip to Wyboring, I decided that it would be a good idea to order the tadpoles I have been promising the students since the beginning of school. In the spring, 2nd grade studies complete and incomplete metamorphosis so I thought it would be fun to have tadpoles. Usually I have this grand idea in May when it is far to late for them to metamorphasize before school comes to an end. Anyway, I order the tadpoles and expect that a certificate for live specimens will be sent and that I will mail that when I get back to San Diego I can mail in the certificate and the tadpoles will come just in time for school to start again. This is the way it worked in my head....

I returned home on the 25th and was wondering when exactly the tadpole certificate would arrive. I chalked up this delay to the fact that it was Christmas week and the shipping people may be off or it got stuck in the Christmas package rush. No big deal, the kids aren't coming back until the 3rd.

What is this package under the tree?

On Monday, the 27th, I wake up ready to get my life in order. I decided the best idea was to take all of my stuff that has piled up in the living room to the basement and therefore at least the living room will be less cluttered even if I don't get the basement completely cleaned. I am gathering the little piles of things that Catherine so carefully stashes when she finds my junk scattered high and wide. I am ever so gently shoving things into bags and taking them downstairs. I get to the tree and find a present (oooooh unexpected) with my name on it and a package under that present from THE FROG COMPANY!

Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohno Oh NO!

This package is SUPPOSED to be a certificate NOT the tadpoles!!!! I immediately drop everything grab the package, that is on it's side, and hustle to the kitchen. I grab a knife and hastily open the package. In it I find the container, special sand, food, AND two desperate looking tadpoles (I am inferring their desperation). I know that I can't put them in regular water and the booklet (which is trying way too hard to be cute and provides very little actual information) says I need "Spring Water"....this goes against my water buying philosophy but we are talking about LIFE OR DEATH. I grab my keys and rush to the door. I drive in a fluster to Vons and jump out of my car. It is at this point that I look down and realize that even though it's about 2pm I am dressed in slippers, pajama pants, a teal t-shirt, and a brown jacket with lime green buttons. I also haven't showered in like 4 days and still have the travel look still from plane ride 2 days before. Needless to say, I am looking rough.

Abandoning my vanity (ha), I grab two gallons of "Spring Water" and a liter of Diet Coke (on account of) and rush back to the house. I quickly pour the water into their container then empty the tadpoles from their shipping containers into their new home. I finally take a deep breath and realize that I haven't really taken one since finding the package. I am convinced that these tadpoles will not survive as they are both looking very ill and laying on their sides at the bottom of their home. I then read and re-read the FAQs section on their website and they said that this lack of liveliness is normal....of course I am convinced that my tadpoles are special in every way INCLUDING the fact that they are more sick than any tadpole has every been in the history of all tadpoles.

Luckily after about an hour they started to perk up. As of today they are doing fine. I am now very concerned that they will be frogs before next Monday when the kids will get to witness the miracle of metamorphosis. It is very cold in our house so hopefully that will slow them down a little bit. When Catherine got home I asked her when exactly the package got there, she didn't know but thinks it was sometime before Christmas. So really there are two Christmas Day Miracles here, one that the USPS actually works sometimes and the other is that my Superior-In-Every-Way Tadpoles are of such resolute determination and upstanding moral fiber that they can survive anything...hopefully that includes 2nd graders.

Look you can see its little leggies!

Another one of the same tadpole. This one is a littler dark and more developed than the other one.

This one has little tiny leggies and is lighter. Oh my heck!

Baby Killer

Today I went to school to check on my fish tank. I had a pretty bad ich infestation before break and wanted to do damage control (ie. replacing the dead fish) before the kids got back and started asking questions about where exactly their favorite fish were. I fed them and was watching them like I often do when I should be doing something far more productive. I put a chunk of food in and then lifted the lid to separate it so the little guys could get some too…often Big Red is too pushy to let the little guys get their fair share.

When I lifted up the lid, I noticed that there was a very large nasty looking cluster of small egg things above on the underside of the hood. Please don’t judge the next few decisions I made, or if you do judge keep in mind the cockroach infection of 2009 and the fact that I watched the old Willy Wonka a lot when I was a kid and this looked like something that would be in the scary acid-trip tunnel on their way to the Inventing Room. Anyway I, being a mature and responsible adult, promptly stuck my finger in it. I was amazed that it was basically a hard outer shell with a gooey inside. This really grossed me out so being convinced that this was some sort of cockroach infestation I poked it with a pencil until it fell into a cup. Then deciding that I didn’t want to have cockroaches in my class (in case they hatched in the trash can) I went to wash them down the sink, but that idea was dismissed when I realized that I would have to squish them down the drain and I didn’t really want to touch this mass again…especially since it was probably cockroach babies waiting to jump out onto me and give me enough fodder for nightmares that I would never sleep again. After eschewing the drain and the trash can, I decided that I would throw them outside and hope they died in the elements. I opened the door (that won’t stay open) and was holding on to it as I flung the mass out of the cup and it ever so gracefully flew across the sidewalk and splattered right before the rail.

Having convinced myself that the impact would probably kill whatever was growing inside I returned to the tank and all of a sudden remembered that before Christmas break the snails in my tank had been “playing” a lot. Apparently, I had been inadvertently letting my students watch hours of snail porn. They thought it was funny how one liked to ride on the other one’s shell. According to wikianswers this is how they mate and the large glob of eggs were probably snail eggs. How was I to know that this type of snail lays their eggs out of the water…after all they live in the water all the time!

"Look the little brown one is riding on the yellow one."

"They must be good friends to be playing so nicely"

So in less than a minute my freaking out because of the gooey cockroach eggs turned into freaking out because I had probably killed all of the little baby snails that my snails had so lovingly conceived in a public venue. So then I went back outside armed with a piece of paper and the cup that was previously mentioned. I scraped the blob (now not quite so cluster shaped and quite a bit more slimy) and fixed what I hope will be a nice little home for the little guys in 2-3 more weeks. That is if they survive the poking, screaming, pushing, flinging, scraping, and relocating.

This is what the eggs looked liked. This is not my image as you can imagine mine look a lot more like this...

Flies In My Coffee

The other day I was joyfully sipping my coffee from Latte Mi Corazon (R.I.P.). I got busy and distracted, as a 2nd grade teacher is want to do. When I came back several hours later and picked up my thoughtlessly abandoned cup there was a small gnat that flew out of hole in the lid. I was horrified!

Suddenly, I had a flashback montage that involved every cup of coffee I had drank carelessly in the last few weeks! Days of picking up cups while teaching addition, yelling at small children, cursing thunderstorms, and checking homework (teachers are masters of multi-tasking). I imagined the tiny corpses of flies that were lured into a vanilla latte by the sweet nectar of sugar and caffine that I had inadvertently consumed! I had gone from happily getting my caffeine on to contemplating how many diseases I had ingested, because flies after all are poop eaters! I basically had convinced myself that I could stop eating meat and legumes because I had eaten so much protein in fly-sized bits and pieces! I was horrified! Disgusted! Outraged!

Then I had a moment of clarity! I realized there were two paths that diverged in the woods; one in which I would give up coffee entirely (ha) more probable I would spend hours carefully checking under each lid and on the foamy latte surface before every sip OR I could ignore the one stray fly and embrace that flies rarely fly into coffee and that was probably the first time it had ever happened in the history of mankind. Ignorance is bliss...oh, I think so.

As I was driving home, I realized that this coffee/fly fiasco was really a just a confirmation of things I already knew to be true...the fear of the not-yets, not-quites, not-at-alls has a lot of people paralyzed into not doing or trying things that could be amazing. Do I think that drinking flies is the amazing experience that people are missing...No. However, why should I let something that may or may-not ever happen dictate my daily actions.

So my friends, here is to living! I am going to try something new. I am going to order something that I haven't tried before...even though I know what I like and the fear of not liking something as much as what I always order has plagued my ordering choices for years. I am going to drink from water fountains. I am going take all the sloppy 2nd grade hugs that are given to me even when I can see their crusty, booger noses and dirty, somewhat sticky hands. I am going to abide by the 5 second rule. I am going to use pencils from the kids' desks and not even look at who sits at that table. Don't get me wrong, I still am going to wash vigorously and use clorox wipes at every possible opportunity, but I am also going walk barefoot in the grass sometimes. I will wipe off hot dogs that have fallen onto the ground before I cook them, but enjoy the crunchy bits that are reminiscent of where they landed on the patio. I will sometimes do something that scares me just to make sure I haven't slipped into a wasteland of stagnant living. And I am definitely going to drink my coffee without looking for flies!

The Extra Mile

Sometimes in life there are people who give a little extra in their jobs...it's those "extras" that make an ordinary day extraordinary. A couple years ago at camp, Rover read us a story about people who go the extra mile and strive make memories and leave fingerprints on other people's lives. She challenged us to "leave fingerprints" on our camper's lives. These fingerprints are what shows our love, our passions, our care about the details to the world around us. When it comes down to it, the small things are the ones that are special. I don't want to waste my life waiting for big things to happen, I want to be enamored with the small things, the insignificant things, the silly things. I can't help but thinking that the only way to find contentment is to be content with the everyday things. I hope that I can make memories for my students. Even on rushed and running late day, like today, I want to give a little extra that will make second grade something special. I hope that I can find the energy to connect with students on a personal level and maintain those connections by doing small, extraordinary things.

This is a coffee from the Roasterie in KC. Such skill.

This is a sandwich from Krakatoa (25th and Broadway). I always get the Traitor's Head sandwich. It is awesome....roast beef, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and horseradish cream cheese! Today I laughed out loud when I saw the picture that was drawn on it. Thanks sandwich dude for making a memory for me. The littlest things make the biggest difference!

On The Road Again

August 5, 2010
Dark and early, Emma and I reluctantly pried our barely living bodies out of bed and into the car. We groggily drove northwest in a slumberous state. After describing to Emma the chances of finding a Starbucks in the state of Wyoming, outside of a grocery store or in general our hearts were filled with a longing for a latte. We got to Casper and while I was asleep, Emma started driving in the wrong direction which was somewhat reminiscent of the scene in Dumb and Dumber in which Jim Carey wakes up to find they drove a day in the wrong direction. She hadn’t gotten a days journey away but a little detour nonetheless. We then used my dear iPhone to google the directions to a Starbucks and eventually found the sweet, sweet nectar of life.
Our trip continued on what is the worst section of road (in my opinion) in existence…and I’ve been on a lot of desolate roads so that is saying something. The road between Casper and Shoshoni is the WORST!!! They literally film movies that are set on desolate planets there (see Galaxy Quest and Strange Encounters of A Second Kind)! We made it Shoshoni, mourned the loss of the Shoshoni Malt Shop to the economy and traveled on to the great metropolis of Thermopolis.
We stopped at the most janky Subway that I’ve ever been to…..in one word- horrifying! Then we went onto the Hot Springs State Park, which is awesome. I have always loved the suspension bridge, smelly hot water, limestone terraces, and people watching there. We walked around looking at the odd additions for the benefit of tourists and even shamelessly used some for a photo opp.
Eventually we made our way to Cody, Wyoming and then on to Yellowstone National Park. By this time we were a little road weary and ready to see some large mammals of the Great Plains. Against the advice of several signs warning against bear mauling we gladly jumped out of our car with the hundreds of other fools to openly gawk at a grizzly bear that was relaxing in a lake. I being wiser that most fools stood well behind the first row of idiots, knowing that if there was a bear attack not only would he probably choose someone closer but I would also have an excellent vantage point to capture the carnage on film. That may sound heartless…but there were warnings, lots and lots of warnings!


After the excitement of a grizzly we drove on and saw another bear in the same lake further on. The main attraction was the buffalo which were like as numerous as the cockroaches in my old classroom….and to that I mean more than you could keep track of. They were not only quite large but they were also quite close and slow moving. We were stuck in traffic for over an hour waiting for one to get out of the road. I’m not sure what was more exciting, the close up buffalo or the tourist who were blatantly disregarding all warning of a goring. I’m not exactly sure what compels people to jump out of their vehicles with such abandon at the sight of a several ton WILD animal but nonetheless I was hoping a little bit that we would get to see someone self-selecting out of the gene pool. The long and somewhat boring waiting was a practice our car dance moves and take ridiculous pictures.


We passed the buffalo finally and drove back to Cody for the Cody Nite (this spelling kills me) Rodeo held every night in June, July and August. We were there for a pretty exciting night. It was fun for Emma to see a part of Wyoming and fun for me to be nostalgic about the many summer nights in my formative years that were spent by a dusty arena hoping for some excitement but not too much excitement, the kind of excitement that ends at the hospital trauma center for someone unlucky/dumb enough to be smooshed by a large wild-eyed beast. I’m not sure which was better the people watching or the clown who was homophobic and who was less than impressed with Obama…I guess there is no blame in pandering to your audience but somewhat unnecessary in my opinion.
After the rodeo and the amazing people watching opportunity that it provided, we went back to the Cody KOA to sleep in our cute little cabin. About 400 motorcyclists traveling to or from Sturgis Rally joined us there. We fell asleep listening to thunder roll in over the mountains, the car alarm of the d-bag next door, and a copious amount of Jack Daniels being consumed by those who donned mullets, cut off t-shirts, and leather chaps. All around a great day.

August 6, 2010
We decided to leave early on this day also…not as early as 4 like the previous day but too early for the faint of heart. We got up and Emma drove to Old Faithful while I did a very poor job of faking like I was awake. We arrived at Old Faithful in time to sit on wet benches by other freezing tourists to wait while the pressure built up enough for her to blow her top. Right before 10:03, a very, very large group of Asian tourists descended on our small huddling group and we got to see a man loose it on some of them which upstaged Old Faithful. The best part by far was watching the varied poses and compositions of the Facebook default pictures that were taken there. If you have never had the opportunity to see large groups of tourists at a somewhat famous geological (or other type) attraction then you should find one in your area and enjoy the show. There are few things I like more than people watching and Old Faithful provided another perfect opportunity.

Leaving the tourists and the great caldera behind we travelled on towards Jackson Hole. I can’t say that I have any affinity towards Jackson. That it is the only thing that most people know about the great state of Wyoming is somewhat annoying to me. I love Wyoming, but there is far more in the other 99.9 percent of the state than tourist traps, overpriced goods and services, and some of the most disturbingly un-Wyoming people I’ve met.
We drove on towards Boise through southern Idaho, I was impressed with its agriculture base and overall beauty. Idaho sometimes gets a bad rap and I think some of that is probably undeserved. We stayed the night with friends from college and got to meet their precious new baby. We also played a game, Bang, which was fun and I am looking forward to playing again. Another great joy of the day was that we started listening to Harry Potter 7. Emma and I frequently would start talking to each other in horrible English accents while alternately cheering, hating, mourning, celebrating and generally enjoying the story.


August 7, 2010
This was one of the two big day of our travels as we drove from Boise to Bellingham. There was nothing notable that happened on the trip besides a continued dependence on Harry Potter and several questionable choices regarding good food for road trips. The drive was beautiful from the rolling fields of soy and other undetermined crops to the winding drive through the fog-shrouded mountains. We hit a wild wind storm at some point during the day and my car grill was filled with tumble-weeds…we decided to leave them in as an experiment in how long they would last (and maybe a little bit because we are both lazy)
We arrived in Bellingham a little earlier that anticipated but it was a relief to be able to stretch and walk off the teriyaki jerky, sprite, and funyons that were irritating my lower gastrointestinal track. Jell-o took us to dinner at the Bellingham Brewery, we not only got to eat wonderful mac n’ cheese but also got to see what can only be described as a hot mess getting started. As we enjoyed our meal, a very large group of similarly dressed college students came in and ordered drinks. They rowdily drank and then marked the number of drinks they had on their “Pub Golf” “scorecards”…and by “scorecards” I mean t-shirts decorated with sharpie marker. The brewery was only the second place but by their general demeanor I imagine that there was a Text From Last Night submission and maybe a bail that had to be paid before the night was up. Then we went back to Jell-o’s and played games while generally enjoying each other’s company. It was a delight as always to see sweet Jell-o. Her apartment is dreadfully adorable; she had made us cookies for our arrival, and had even made a little basket for fun times. I can’t tell you how much I miss Jell-o at camp and throughout the year. She really brings out the best in everyone around her…and especially me! It’s nice to have friends like that.

August 8, 2010
With Jell-o in tow, we drove down to Seattle and met Slide at the Science Museum. If you have never been to the Pacific Science Center…GO! It’s awesome. I’ve been three times in the past few years and every time I spend hours and hours there. They have a great physical science place, a good planetarium, dinosaurs, butterflies, hissing cockroaches, a tide pool, and so many other things! I’m sure it’s fun with kids but unlike some places not necessary to take the little ankle-biters along. We spend most of the day doing things like seeing how well our super sniffers worked, petting starfish, learning how to swallow swords, blowing gigantic bubbles, and found out our genetic pathways.
After playing at the museum, we went to a very nice little Thai restaurant. It is called Rice and Spice and it was very delicious! We met up with Emma’s family afterwards and they took us to a fish restaurant for drinks and dinner. Then to top of the night we walked through Pike Place market to the gum wall. At the gum wall we took photos, as everyone should. I pretended to lick it and this girl who was the epitome of stuck up gasped in shock like I had actually licked it. I was surprised that she thought that anyone would like the wall (ok I probably would have for like 5 bucks…It builds up the immunity!) but then a minute later when she was posing for pictures her hair was getting stuck in it….a small victory for not-cheerleaders.
We walked on to the best gelato store that I’ve been to outside of Italy. I had pear and lemon and it was AWESOME!!! The flavors were amazing and I was delighted at everything I tried. So again if you are in Seattle, Bottega Italiana on First Ave. It’s worth it. After leaving Emma’s family, Jell-o was a rock star and drove Slide to her car and then back to Bellingham as Emma slept and I pretended (poorly) to stay awake.



August 9, 2010
Our wanderlust took us to Vancouver, BC on this fine (but rainy) day. We eventually made it into Canada after being rigorously questioned by the border officer who could not believe that we “came all the way from California just to go to the aquarium.” We simply had to stop by Tim Horton’s on our way through. If you haven’t been to a Tim Horton’s then there is a little something missing from your life. It’s basically a coffee shop but has excellent food and donut holes (TimBits). There is kind of a cult following by people who have the excellent fortune to go to them. After filling up on soup, bagels, coffee, and TimBits we drove on to Stanley Park and the Vancouver Aquarium. I have to say that as nice as Canadians and Canada in general are the roads in Vancouver are not well designed. This is my third time there and every time I am amazed at how industrial it seems and how poorly planned the infrastructure is. I guess I am spoiled because I can hop onto any number of freeways and get to where I’m getting but there the highways wind (annoyingly slow) through residential and commercial areas. I have no idea how they survived being flooded by the Olympic traffic.


The Vancouver Aquarium is one of my two favorite aquariums (the Shedd being the other one but that is an entirely different story). It is in the middle of Stanley Park and is amazing. There are belugas, dolphins, seals, hagfish, octopi, Amazon fish that are over 12 feet long, sharks, lionfish, sea turtles, and my favorite jellyfish. I love that aquariums are a glimpse into a world that is so different than the one I live in but also so tranquil, life-abundant, and richly textured.

We spent the day exploring the underwater world and then drove back down to Bellingham to end the day by collecting seaglass on the beaches of Bellingham. We didn’t find a lot of seaglass but did enjoy the sunset on the beach. This was our last night in Bellingham so we lived up to the motto of “Subdued Excitement” by subduing our excitement.



August 10, 2010
We got up early and drove to Seattle to eat a very good homemade breakfast with one of my friends from way back in the day. We then continued down the 5 on our way through Washington and Oregon. Somewhere in the middle of Washington we thought it would be an excellent idea to stop and get some blackberries for jelly and other delights. We were lacking some of the things we needed to know about picking blackberries, which might have limited the enthusiasm in which we jumped into blackberry brambles. Let me explain what we found out…. 1) blackberry brambles are thorny 2) the best blackberries are just out of reach 3) apparently when you are hooked on thorns you should push towards the bush instead of ripping flesh outwards 4) long sleeves, pants, and shoes are recommended…none of which we used 5) tiny little splinters will get in to your hands, arms, legs, and feet and then fester over the next several weeks 6) there is a chemical in blackberry brambles that make the scratches almost intolerable. We picked about 28 cups of berries and then continued on a little more beat up than before. The rest of the day was driving and thinking of how to smuggle theses blackberries into California. We made it to California and declared a peach at the agriculture check point but didn’t find it necessary to declare the huge amount of berries too. Emma was a rock star with the driving. She drove through NorCal and got us to Davis safely. We staying in a motel room there because of our arrival time. It was at this point in the trip that I was getting ready to be home. I get a little barn sour.




August 11, 2010
We awoke refreshed and ready for some adventures in the wonderful city of Davis. Emma and drove to Fairfield to the Jelly Belly Factory to people watch and get some Jelly Belly Flops (the beans that are not quality). We were in a tour group with the most unenthusiastic tour guide ever. I wish that this blog had sound because I can do an excellent impression of her….imagine the most monotone, job-hating, angst ridden teenager you have ever met-times that by 10 and you have our tour guide. It was cool to get to taste the jelly beans at every stage of their making.


After sampling candy to our hearts content, we went back to Davis for the world famous Davis Farmer’s Market. It was so good! We had corndogs from The Hotdogger, awesome peaches from the market and a pretzel croissant that blew my mind. We met up with Chelsea and her fiancé, Blake, and listened to some great music and watched little kids do what little kids do best…dance without reservation. We played games and went to bed pretty early.



August 12, 2010
Feeling ready to hit the road again we travelled to San Francisco and visited the Castro. We walked around for a while and then we went to see the Golden Gate Bridge. We saw the bottom half of it and I was supremely frustrated by driving in San Fran…annoying hills, people, and tourist. I was getting kind of annoyed with everything though…it had been a long couple of days. Emma drove through Monterey and we sat in hours and hours of traffic. We then drove down the 101/1 which was awesome. It is the most scenic route, even if it is very time consuming. We got to the Hearst Castle sea lion beach right at sundown (it was freezing) and decided to continue on to San Diego. The rest of the trip was a haze of sleep, Disney music, and RadioLab. I was delighted to be back in my bed and out of the car, it’s nice to be able to stretch out after so many days of sitting.

For the rest of the photos you can go here...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=202283&id=503376579&l=e99dba49b8

J. Low 2010, A Happy List

Juliette Low Camp 2010

A Happy List:

-making it work with only 17 counselors
-leading camper’s choice
-getting to drive both gators and the golf cart
-having Papa Hobbes visit
-swimming, swimming in the swimming pool
-cutting Slide’s hair
-the baked potato and buffalo chicken dip from Lisa
-staying with my favorite family
-Mama Mia and Hairspray
-going to Moon Marble Co. with my dad
-having s’mores with the girls
-Song’s dislike of the fried oats making
-this being the year of butter and bacon
-The Show Me The Butter State shirts
-getting packages from loved ones
-killing a my 28th hoe with Bamboo
-$2.99 margaritas at Chilis
-seeing my Kansas City friends
-not being in the Ad Building very much
-Annie in the shower
-being able to fit the entire core staff at one table in the DH
-late night games and snacks in the DH
-playing Plants vs. Zombies late at night and getting a little scared
-sleeping on picnic tables again...realizing that I am not 18 any more and that even though I like picnic tables they don't like me as much
-sno-cones
-spending the 4th with some of my favorite gals
-Sequoia and Wallaby coming to visit
-going on hikes with Annie
-meeting the most bad-ass boy scout ever
-the PC’s
-Mr. Janks
-Moose’s toe shoes and Clone’s hate of them
-Losing 2 ½ sets of bed boards
-Dead Squirrel and Peanut Butter
-the amount of sausage that I consumed
-breakfast buddies, fajitas, cheese square croutons, and more BACON
-making fried oats 4 times
-letting Reptar explore with my camera
-the nurse and her love of the frogs
-the new campers
-finding out that I can do an acceptable job as Grover and The Count from Sesame Street
-messing around with Captain Kirk
-seeing the k-boys growing up
-Jeff and the poop scooping
-Elmo going via con huevos into the poop water to scoop out corn chunks
-the new camp shower mix
-Beiber Fever…I mean Bieber Fever
-Tidal Wave into the deep end
-going through sooo many tubs o’ love
-sleeping in cabin 5
-making someone’s day everyday
-hanging out/hiding out in the laundry room
-Lepi’s 84 list about 84
-Rhubarbs sweet spirit and jam
-gold bond green
-getting sunburned and trying to hide it from Rover, completely not succeeding
-Waldo’s pizza
-Starbucks runs
-the heat….ok not really
-Black Eye Pea’s “Tonights Going to be a Good Night”
-Realizing that I make up names for almost every song in my iTunes…that are really far off
-Spa night and the oatmeal fiasco
-‘Da Unit showering ALL of camp
-Slide comparing the DH to a caste system
-'Da Unit dance off at the pool...in which Twiggy, Elmo, and I dominated
-Reading Skippyjon Jones and Where the Wild Things Are to Unit 1
-The demonic Grover voice
-Having dinner and story time with the Conners
-Cooks parade and the awkward Funky Chicken Dance at banquet
-Funky utensil meal being during biscuit and gravy meal
-Cooking out at the upper fire circle
-Elmo putting mustard in the beans
-Fried oats breakfast with the kitchen staff......awkward
-Bamboo and 84 drinking the rotten watermelon (see video below)
-The counselor drama

Misery to Wyboring

July 31, 2010
After a long and trying day at Girl Scout Council, we foolishy decided to head out to the great state of Wyboring, with a car full of dirty laundry, a bag full of discarded snack food, and hope in our hearts. The trip started off well enough, spirits were high. However around, Lincoln Nebraska-the crazies started. If you have never had the opportunity to drive for 10 hours, mostly in the dark, do it! It is a social experiment that will leave you wondering where your common sense has gone. We drove giddily through the night on nothing but Starbucks Frappacinios, peanut M&Ms, and laughter about the creepiest doll we’d ever seen. I (Adrielle) was relegated to the back seat and promptly fell asleep because I couldn’t hear a darn thing. I’m not sure what adventures Emma and Hayley had while I was napping but I did wake once to an urgent cry for help as they had driven into the nothingness of Nebraska with no gas in the tank. Apparently the concept of pre-planning was lost at about 3:00 am. Luckily, I woke up in time to save the day (night) and navigated sans Iphone GPS to a nearby gas station. My dear Pacifico’s tank (12 gallon capacity) thirstily gulped down 13 ½ gallons…we were near crisis! I decided to take back the wheel and continue on towards Chey-town. We arrived early in the morning and slept soundly.


My car got to 100,000 miles this trip!!!


This is quite possibly the creepiest thing I've ever seen...you can't unsee things like this!

August 1, 2010
I wish that I had more to say about this day. I woke up at 10 and reacquainted myself with the creature comforts that most people take for granted while Emma and Hayley slept. When I say slept, I meant SLEPT! At about 4:30 when I came home from the movies with Dr. and Papa they had arisen from dreamland. With the day mostly over there was little to do but go to Sonic for corndogs and play a ridiculously long game with my friends from college. The game lasted until 12:30 am…good thing the girls got so much shut-eye the previous night/day.


August 2, 2010
Determined to get up a little earlier than mid-afternoon, we set out on an adventure to “shoot some shit”….I do mean this literally. My dad took us on a Camper’s Choice outing to the metropolis of Burns to meet the most bad-ass cowboy ever! This sure-shooter, Maverick, was 6 foot and a lot, had a mustache (not a beard) that swept gracefully down to his shirt pocket, a swagger that only comes from riding horses for the better part of a life, and more guns that the US Government. He let us use his private shooting range/hill for disposing lead and other toxins into the environment via .22 shells. Not only did he let us use his property for the shameless destruction of pop cans and eggs, he also let us use his “cute little devil” pistol that shot .357 but he loaded with a special hand packed lighter caliber bullets for us. I have only shot a .22 pistol but it was pretty awesome shooting something with a little more punch. After Maverick left we continued to try to shoot a few other things brought with us, a yogurt container, eggs, strawberries, pop cans, and a picture of Zoe LaRue the poodle. Once all the ammo was spent and we were well satisfied with our collective ability to shoot whatever piece of trash or road sign that was in the vicinity we rolled out feeling pretty proud of ourselves.
We also got to hang out more with my dear friend Kirstin. We saw Dinner for Schmucks the movie, which is painfully hard to watch because Steve Carell is so good at being awkward. We also met up with Abi to see her new digs and meet her husband.


August 3, 2010
On this fine Wyoming day, we met up with my aunt and grandpa for their weekly picnic. My dad had brought the canoe to the lake so he and my aunt took it for a lap or two. Then Hayley and Emma courageously took it around the lake. We also ate some Toxic Johns Potato Ole’s, which are a blessing and a curse. A blessing while you is eating them and then soon after a curse. We got to see my other Aunt and blew some bubbles with her after putting together a fan. Mostly today was my taking care of business day and like it or not the girls were stuck with me.
We had found some darling little baby gifts and took them out to Abi’s school to give to her. They were adorable! I love shopping for baby stuff…if only you could do that without the actual baby…I guess that is why I will be an awesome auntie.
We topped off the night by playing card games with the dad and it was a nice end to a relaxing time spent in Chey-town.


My dad and I had a water race...I lost!

August 4, 2010
Today was filled with good friends, good beer, and less than good Mexican food. We started the day off by going to the Budweiser tour in Ft. Collins, Colorado. I love, love, love factories so it was a good tour and a beautiful day in the foothills.


We are standing in front of 11.3 million gallons of beer!


Cheers to free beer.

Then we drove down to Denver and picked up Mariah. We decided to go the best/worst restaurant in Denver, the one and only Casa Bonita. If you haven’t been to Casa Bonita and you live within a days drive of it….GO! It is as horrible/wonderful as you can imagine. Essentially it is a dark and damp restaurant that was designed by someone on acid who had access to a lot of chicken wire and fake rock material. You might be asking why anyone would want to drive to a strip mall in the red light district of Denver to eat bad Mexican food in what looks like a poorly made movie set…and to those people I would say two things….Cliff Divers and Sopapillas. Every 15 minutes or so there is a extremely poorly scripted and even more poorly executed melodrama that ends with someone diving 30 feet into a pool of water. To those neigh sayers and sayers of neigh, I say….EMBRACE THE CHEESE! You are doing no one any good by being too serious to laugh at the absurd and the outrageous. I also have to say that things that make Casa Bonita horrible are the same things that make it awesome….I mean some of it might be nostalgia but where else can you see a gorilla and pirate fight, a mariachi band, Black Bart’s cave, a piñata being broken by 6 years all amped up on high fructose corn syrup, and get to eat in a cave!





For further information please visit this website…hilarious. http://blogs.westword.com/cafesociety/2009/01/casa_bonita_a_survivors_guide.php
To his suggestions, I would also say….Avoid the meat-go for the cheese enchiladas but the safest things are the sopapillas and diet coke.

Old Friends

Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted;
nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider.
Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed,
and some few to be chewed and digested:
that is, some books are to be read only in parts,
others to be read, but not curiously, and some few
to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
~ Francis Bacon ~

There’s something about the last day of school, in the quiet of the afternoon with the calm and peace of another year put to rest. It dulls the annoyance of ten-year olds, erases the frustration of stupid questions (yes there are such a thing), highlights the best memories and takes the edges off the rough ones. It was nice to be able to dismantle the room; take down bulletins boards, recycle ungraded homework without feeling guilty, throw away the pencils that are shorter than my pinkie finger, and un-goop the glue bottle tops knowing they will stay un-gooped for longer than a day.

As I was packing up my classroom, once again, I was slowly sifting through the chaos that is my classroom library. As I was uncovering books in book bins I found several things; an empty milk container, 40 pencils, three sporks, a straw, four markers, several wads of Kleenex, a cheese omelet from at least two weeks ago. Besides the treasures that I found, I had an entirely enjoyable time uncovering books I had forgotten about. I felt like I was reconnecting with friends that I had lost contact with. It’s funny that I can’t remember where I put debit card but I can remember the first time I read each book. Each one brought back a memory of my favorite character, the chapters that made me cry in empathy, the person who recommended it to me, or the kids I shared it with.

It made me realize how important reading is…or I suppose more than the skill-the love of reading. As a kid, I had the world in my hands and as an adult I have a lifetime of memories of places, people, and things that have broadened my world, my view, my understanding of things I’ve only experienced through text. So I admonish you to find a good book, read a good book, share a good book. As Ms. Carlson once said, “Writing should be readable, re-readable, read-aloudable.” Good books should be ones that you will stay up all night and read but still feel a little sad to turn the last page.

Boodacris

I have a wonderful and wonderfully trying 5th grader. He is awesome when he is alone but in the large group, aka classroom, he needs everyone to be focused on him. He also really doesn't have a filter because of his impulsivity he will just blurt out exactly what is on his mind...whatever thought if flying through at that exact moment in time. He has been known to walk into a room and say something like, "It smells like earwax and nachos in here" This of course causes about 20 other kids to start disagreeing with him about what exact food product and or body product it smells like in the classroom. He is also known for trying to make up his own nicknames, which are both random and never ever stick. I've been keeping a list going throughout the year and here are the ones I could remember at the end of the school day-there are probably hundreds more that I forgot before I could get to a post-it.

Boodacris
Saliva
Double A
Big Mac
Big Deezy
Tonail
Muerte
Big Booty Judy
Athlete's Foot
Babooshka
Oompa Loompa
Buttercup
Shamu
O'Doyle
Anthony
Jerome
Jermaine Dupri
Zit
Scorpion
Spade
Dead Zone
Butterscotch Ripple
Criss-a-fur
Biltoe
Hazard

Guns are for getting food

I've learned a lot of things at my new school but I also try to remember the things that I learned at my last school...ah the memories :). One of my dearest friends there once told me that when a kid says something shocking that it's better not to react in shock (like expected) but rather to accept what they are saying and then be open about the reasons behind why they are saying it. I have to say that I am always trying to cover the shock and not always succeeding...I finally felt like I had implemented this lesson into my teaching...below is a transcript of the conversation:

Me: Today in ELD we are going to be talking about how you feel... You can talk about how you feel about the recent earthquake, global warming, going to 6th grade, or anything else you want to talk about.
LB: I have something I want to talk about...
Me: Great (Internal monologue:awesome this kid finally wants to participate)
LB: In my opinion, (which was our language frame) holding a gun is awesome.
Me: (Crap..I am out of my depth) Ok...how did that make you feel?
LB: It made me feel strong, powerful, and like I could protect myself
Me: (Don't freak out, don't freak out) Well, in a lot of cultures guns are a way of life. Who do you feel like you need to protect yourself from?
LB: Other people who would do bad things.
Me: Ok, I can see where having a gun would make you feel safer. Guns were made so that people could get food, protect their families and their lands...it makes sense that you would feel in control when you were holding a gun. Guns can be both dangerous and helpful-like if you were getting food for your family.
LB: Exactly!
Me: Obviously, having a gun at your age is inappropriate but as an adult who has to hunt for food it would be a necessity.
LB: Hunting?
Me: You know, using a gun to get food for your family...hunting, shooting wildlife, deer, elk, moose...you know?
LB: Oh...I thought when you said getting food for your family you meant taking it to Wal-mart and using it to get food for your family.
Me: ?
LB: You know, like using the gun to get food and money from the store people
Me: Oh....that's not what I meant. (Transition to shocked teacher mode) Guns are dangerous and there is no reason ever you should hold one again.
LB: I know, I know they are inappropriate for children.


My students are funny because whenever they are about to say something that they know will set off a "life lesson" they always preface the statement with "I know ______ isn't appropriate for children, BUT ....." I must start every soapbox lecture with,
"______ is not appropriate for children because...." It's funny that the idiosyncrasies that they emulate are ones that I am not aware of until I hear them said by a 10 year old.

Accident of Nature...another camp post

Daylight savings time in the spring is the first tangible clue that summer is just around the corner. The weather in San Diego last week was enough to tip the balance between “Ready for Summer” and “Need Summer Now”. I also had a chance to finish a book about a camp for kids with disabilities called Accident of Nature by Harriet McBryde Johnson. The narrator has cerebral palsy and it’s her observations on the systems, campers, and staff at a residential camp.
There are things you read that stick with you and as you mull them over your understanding becomes deeper so that the next time you think of something your perception has changed. This is how it was with the following passage. It stuck with me and changed some of my perceptions.

“Cabin by cabin, we go on the deck to see our candles lay on the water. From the dock, I look back at the shore at the candles resting in hands and on laps, hands and laps made anonymous, made uniform, by the darkness. I look down at the candles floating away, and at their light reflections shimmering on the black water.
As I watch the flickering light drift away like tiny souls leaving, I think there is such a think as Camp Spirit. But it isn't what Mr. Bob was talking about.
Mr. Bob may think he lit the first candle, but the flame is beyond anything he can control or even comprehend. Passing from hand to hand, the fire becomes new for each person.
Camp Spirit is like that too--complex, changing, elusive. I think kindly of fire, its warmth and light, the fire of the hearth. A place where people gather for strength and nourishment. And I think of fire's power to consume and destroy. A raging force that blasts away the good and the bad, the weak and strong, without discrimination, reducing them to their elements. And finally I open my heart to then small flame that flickers out in an instant, to endure only in a brief afterlife of memory. A spirit that exists only as long as it has something to act upon.”

The initial thing that struck me was how similar this was to the boat ceremony of yesteryear…replaced by the “keepsakes” sometime in the mid-2000’s. I didn’t appreciate the ceremony then because it usually involved crafting something out of meat trays and pipe cleaners when there was laundry to do, socks to find, and cabins to clean-up. Those ridiculous boats have been replaced with making similar things out of construction paper, Popsicle sticks, and sheets of foam-same concept except they don’t have to be seaworthy.
I read, re-read, and then read it again because it reminded me of the closing day of camp. When the cicadas are starting their nightly chorus, the families have gathered around a smoky campfire to celebrate another great camp session, and the hard work is mostly done. There is a feeling of completion and contentment as I look around the campfire at the staff who look battle-worn but triumphant, the counselors who I am alternately loving and hating, the campers who are a little more bug-bitten, a little-more sunned, and smell like camp but glow with an inner light that only comes after doing things once thought impossible.
I love the phrase “Passing from hand to hand, the fire becomes new for each person. Camp Spirit is like that too—complex, changing, elusive” It encapsulates that which makes camp special, memorable, and absolutely indescribable to those who have not been. I think the reason why camp is still as powerful now as it was 50-some odd years ago is that it is unique to each person. By working and serving others the things that are selfish, lazy, and bitter are burned away and the purities in life are left. I can see the changes in others as their thinking, their actions, and their reactions are refined and matured.
I think my camp friends are so close because they have indeed seen “my elements”-at the core, the base, the center of me. I wish I could say that they have only seen patience, love, and tact but they have also seen laziness, bitterness, and anger-that they still have unconditional regard for me is a credit to the good it brings out in those brave enough to open up their hearts. The memories I treasure but even more so the relationships forged during the memory-making.

Twilight Comes Twice

In my class we are studying poetry. We are read the book Twilight Comes Twice and I thought it was a beautiful book....with some amazing illustrations. Here is most of the poem so I hope you enjoy the imagery and the figurative language.

Twilight Comes Twice
By Ralph Fletcher

Twice each day
A crack opens
Between night and day.
Twice twilight
Slips through that crack.

It stays only a short time
While night and day
Stand whispering secrets
Before they go their separate ways.

Dusk is the name
For evening twilight.
Dusk gives the signal
for night to be born.

Dusk deepens the colors
Of ordinary things.
Even the common grass
Takes on a luster
That makes you
Stop to look.

In the summer, dusk
Hisses on the sprinklers.
It flushes out
Millions of mosquitoes
And armies of bats
To eat them.

Fireflies appear,
Swimming through the air,
Writing bright messages
In secret code.

Slowly dusk pours
The syrup of darkness
Into the forest.
Crows gather in the tree
For last-minute gossip
Before nightfall.

In the early morning
A pale twilight touches
The edge of the sky.
It is called dawn.
Dawn is like a seed
That will grow into daylight.

With invisible arms
Dawn erases the starts
From the blackboard of night.
Soon just the moon
And a few stars
Remain.

Dawn picks
Bits of dark
From between
The blades of grass
In your backyard.
No job is too small.

In the forest
Dawn drinks up night’s
Leftover darkness,
The great black pools
And deep-rooted shadows.

Walking at dawn is
A special kind of walk
Sounds ring out more clearly
The air is till moist
From the cool of the night
And your own skin
Feels all tingly clean.

Dawn signals the crows
To start their jabbering
What a racket they make
In the willow tree!

Down below, three robins
Hop through wet grass
Shopping for breakfast
Worms.

Spiders rouse themselves
Still stiff from the night
And go to work repairing
Their dew-spangled webs.



I think I love this poem so much because it reminds me of the quiet times in my life before the day starts that are filled with the anticipation of a new day....or as the dusk settles into evening when I can revel in the fulfillment of day well lived.

At camp this time comes early, those brave of heart (or foolish) can feel the calm excitement that comes dawn. Some of my favorite moments at camp are waking early (ha-ok after the actual waking up part), getting my coffee bleary eyed and waiting for the day to begin. It starts slowly with a few people moving about, the fog burns off quickly, then the first wheelchairs begin making their way back to cabins after being charged up, soon the camp will be bustling with movement, shouting, laughter, and giggles in the warm summer sun. This is much better when shared with a friend in companionable silence, just soaking in the quiet before the lost swimsuits need found, mosquito bites need anti-itch cream, and one stubborn camper needs reminded why we make our beds at camp. This time comes again, usually just around when Taps sounds softly. As the cicadas start their nightly humming, the sun fades into the shadows, and the heat becomes comfortable again. It is now, during this time I can look back and smile about the things that at the time were not significant but now with time and distance are what make days special, what I look back on during the year, and what I look forward to happening once again.

The ShamWow Chronicles

A view of the clean fish tank


If you haven’t read the first installment of the ShamWow Chronicles, you should. As some of you know, I am not always the greatest planner…in other words I have some impulse control issues. I just see something and do it instead of taking time to stop and think. Such was the case on Sunday….or as I like to call it…The Fishtank Fiasco.
In our living room, we have a 30 gallon tank with 6 huge goldfish (Rack, Shack, Dennis, Dorothy, Nemo, and Dori…it’s what happens with 4 years olds name them) and 1 fat frog named Groucho. Occasionally the fish tank becomes clouded with all sorts of particulate matters. This was such the case because of poor filter and crummy food. Anyway, being buoyed by the success of the previous day (we installed carpet) I was in the “Takin’ Care of Business” frame of mind. So I set to cleaning out the tank, which is quite the process.

I found all the materials and got going. The worst part of the job is sucking on the tube to start the suction hose….I never seem to not get a mouth full of fish water-gross I know. I filled up a container then started filling the five gallon bucket to empty the tank. I carefully scooped out the fish and frog into another container. I then started scraping the sides of the tank with a razor blade and congratulating myself on a job well started.

I was scraping and daydreaming, when all of a sudden it sounded like the shower was on…not thinking anything of it I kept scraping until my foot got wet. As you can imagine it is hard to keep an eye on both ends of the suction tube and scrape the sides of the tank. Water was pouring out of the bucket and all over the living room. I (being a quick thinker) grabbed the hose and put it in the container the fish were in and that is when my good judgment ended. Somehow, I got the door open and then started to move the five-gallon bucket that was overflowing. However, between the door and the bucket was the hose still emptying the fish tank. As you can foresee, and I failed to, when I started to drag the overfull bucket towards the door it caught on the hose and the hose started to spray everywhere! I dropped the bucket-no matter the carpet was already wet and grabbed the hose. I corralled it and stuck it flowing back to the tank so now there is a full bucket, a full fish container, a square yard of soaked carpet, and me looking like a slightly disoriented drowned rat.

Remembering the garbage disposal incident of ’09, I ran out to the garage to get the ShamWows forgetting that we couldn’t walk on the carpet that we had installed the day before. So I run over it and then get the Shamwows but don’t want to feel guilty walk on it again to get inside. I walked barefoot around to the front of the house through the weeds, dirt, and ouchies. I soaked up the water using the Shamwows, emptied the bucket and then started the draining again. As I mentioned before I drank a little fish water on accident.

If I didn’t believe in overachieving in everything I do (ha) I would have stopped there but oh no! I finish emptying the tank with only a few more minor spills. I took out the rocks and carried the fish tank outside. While washing the fabric that goes under it I thought I would get the hose and spray out the inside. Let me paint this picture for you….Front steps, open door, hose, tank on steps, me, sprayer nozzle. If you are moderately intelligent, I imagine that you know these pieces make up a mess. I started gently spraying the tank out and as space out thinking about orange marmalade, the evils of high fructose corn syrup, orangutans, tomorrow…you get the idea. I am spraying, spraying, spraying and then I realize that not only am I thoroughly washing the tank I am also spraying the water through the open door into the living room and have been for several minutes. Again ShamWows to the rescue!

After mopping up enough potable water to last a small country a week, I successfully fill the tank, move the fish, and call it a day. Looking around at the chaos scattered around the greater part of the house, I could only smile and say "Wow"



They think I am going to feed them


Groucho doing nothing, like usual



A rare action shot

I thought I was the teacher....

Oh the things I have learned this year. Today we had a very long discussion about the difference between shanking and cutting. Apparently shanking is to stabbing what cutting is to slicing….put that in your bridge map. I learned that sometimes when the police come the best idea is to run away-according to Calvin that is “You know, Ms. A. because they start to ask questions and stuff.” I’ve learned the difference between eviction notices and past due notices…”Eviction notices is when you have to start packing your stuff.” I’ve even learned that when your electricity goes out then you can’t open the fridge until your dad calls the company and gets them to turn it back on. Apparently “visiting family in the hospital” really means going to jail to see both your mom and your dad who are incarcerated. There are no cardinal directions, but everyone knows if you say "Go to the liquor store, up the hill....".

What is amazing and fascinating to me is that as little as these kids have they are more grateful, more giving, and more caring that just about any others I have met. No matter how little they have they always ask if I want to share their snacks. They are ecstatic when I let them take home books. They have never have complained about there not being seconds on cupcakes. I’m not exactly saying their angels, I have been given gifts that look almost identical to things I already have and my pencil sharpeners keep disappearing. However, if these are the kids of the future ---who are surviving in a rough world and still coming to school and doing their best when there is no one there to get them ready in the morning, their heads hurt from being hungry all weekend, and who never really lose the sadness behind their smiles ---then I think the future is in good hands... besides who else can make an analogy like "School is to job as dropping out is to drunk, shirtless guy on the corner."

December 2009...A Happy List

The end of 2009 was a lifetime better than the beginning...I have high hopes for 2010.

A Happy List for December:

-Balboa Park Field Trip
-Jamie and Sabrina's visit
-The zoo, twice!
-December Nights on the Prado
-International Houses
-International Spirits at that International Houses
-New podcasts
-A 21 hour drive to contemplate life, love, and other mysteries
-Getting to meet the Franny Pack
-Knitting and Intervention
-Mac and Cheese and Dino-nuggets
-Eating at the classiest place in Bryan, Texas
-Say Hey by Michael Franti
-Jersey Shore
-The three hour breakfast fiasco
-Meeting Scout Eleanor Roosevelt Wren
-The accumulation of snow on Christmas Eve
-Finishing the Christmas puzzle
-Barfing and sketchy Santa's being the themes of Telephone Pictionary
-Getting to hang out with with sweet Cathyrn
-Almost winning Pictionary...we were robbed!
-The almost snow-ball fight, the almost snow-angel, and the almost perfect picture of snow-ball catch
-Apache Dip
-"Sorry about the trash. We had a frat party"
-Trying to get a picture of Scout and the Santa hat
-Finding an open Starbucks in El Paso at 11:45 pm!!!
-Singing "The Gambler" at the top of our lungs early in the morning
-Trying to sleep in 16 degree weather and not really succeeding
-Meeting up with dear Becca
-The trunkful of liquor and games
-Exploring Uncle B's house
-The Spades Championship of the Decade
-Homemade pasta and meatballs
-Being complete tourists in Hollywood
-Taking pictures of Trach along the road
-Hot tubbing it up
-An entire season of Glee in less than 24 hours
-Crumbs Bakery
-Ringing in the new year and decade with precious friends
-Introducing Emma to all of the kids who fill up my days
-Hand and Foot show-down at the Greife's