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
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, January 18, 2010
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
Monday, January 11, 2010
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."
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."
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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
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
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