God still speaks

This morning, He had the voice of Robin Marsh of News9, when He said, "Come on, it's time to get up, out of bed, this morning and exercise. No excuses." Wierd, huh?

New Plan

I guess there's no need to remind anyone of how much I hate exercise. Okay, new strategy. I decided months ago that trying to add daily exercise to my morning routine during my first year of second grade was impossible. I knew I wouldn't do it. I determined to begin my habit during the summer.

The plan is to go to bed on time - no late nights - and get up each morning as I would during the school year. I will begin my workout at 6 a.m. I have chosen The Biggest Loser Boot Camp, but I will switch DVD's if I get bored. I start with level 1 and add levels 2 and 3 as I become stronger. I will give my body rest on predetermined days, not because I wake and don't feel like getting out of bed. My hope is that by the time the summer is over, I will have formed a good habit, and I will be able to get up a little earlier in order to continue it.

Day One - success. I got out of bed. No asthma attacks. I didn't pass out from exhaustion. I worked out for 30 minutes. Baby steps.

Coolest Dad...EVER!

Super D should stand for "Super Dad" because he is preparing for a campout in the backyard with C. They took the mattress from the sofabed so that it won't be too uncomfortable. And they will soon make s'mores (which they will share with me, if they know what's good for them). Quality time, huh?

The Mystery Garden

I have a black thumb. I killed an African Violet. I murdered an Aloe Vera plant. The plant world hates me. Maybe I hate gardening so much because I don't like pulling weeds and grass. Maybe it's because I don't enjoy kneeling on the ground and bending over the plants, hurting my knees and back at the same time. Maybe I just don't like sweating. Maybe I don't like having to compete with my perfect neighbor and her perfect garden. (Love you, Debbie!) Whatever the reason, I would rather be doing just about anything other than gardening.

What I do enjoy is shopping. I have discovered that I really like the gardening department at the home improvement stores. I like the idea of a beautiful garden. I am giddy with excitement when something I planted and nurtured takes root and grows.

My front garden last year gave me just a taste of achievement. Preexisting rose bushes produced beautiful, fragrant roses in two colors. Cannas were abundant. I planted chrysanthemums which came back after one season. And the 35-year-old Milk & Wine Lilies that my mom entrusted me with finally bloomed and were gorgeous! To top it off, I planted some petunias because I thought they were so pretty, even though I knew they would wither and die, never to return.

This year, I was determined to grow a better garden. I asked for soil to fill up the flower bed, careful not to damage the lilies or the roses.

This is how the lilies looked when the season began:

I bought lots of bulbs and seeds, watching for plants which are perennials and grow in full sun. (I learned my lesson last year when the hostas died.) Unfortunately, I have no idea where I planted anything or even what I planted. I think I have day lilies, dahlias, irises, and gerber daisies, along with a bunch of other nameless flowers. Tiny plants keep popping up, and I have no idea if they are friendly flowers or evil weeds. Three plants turned out to be ivy. (We think those were from the soil we spread.) And I keep pulling blades of grass. But my lily plants are healthy, my roses are huge, my chrysanthemums bushes are filling in, and my petunias keep blooming because I am methodically removing the dead flowers.

So my garden is a mystery. I don't what will grow, and I don't know why it's growing. But I am giddy with excitement! And anyone who knows me is in shock.

Evel Knievel

Super D calls me out to the back porch.

"Bring your camera!" he says.

And this is what I see:

Yes, that's my son.

Yes, that's our roof.

And, yes, that is the arrow he shot on top of the roof.

[shakes head] Boys!

Proper grammar

Dangling participles can completely change the meaning of a sentence. Take, for instance, what my reading-material-in-the-bathroom-loving husband said to me:

"I saw some cool things while pooping in the Bed, Bath, & Beyond catalog."

I think I'll skip looking through that catalog. Thanks, anyway!

Old is new again

This is the outdoor table and chairs set which adorned my grandparents' screened-in patio for as long as I can remember. I used to see Grandmother and Grandfather sit outside and read the newspaper at this table. We ate breakfast on it when the weather was nice.



Eventually, my parents inherited it. By then, it had many years worth of rust on it. I was afraid to sit in the chairs, for fear that I would ruin my pants. When my mom moved a few years ago, Super D and I got the set. It just sits on our back porch. What a lonely sight.


No one wants to eat on it. Quite frankly, it's disgusting. So lately, we have been looking into restoring it. I am quite determined to use this set again. I thought it would be better just to let a professional do it, but I knew it would be expensive. The money was the only thing holding us up. Then Super D talked with a friend who has experience with such things, and he told us how we could do it ourselves. Oh boy! My first DIY project!


So today, we headed to the hardware store and purchased a bristle brush, gloves, masks, and primer/paint. It turned out to be a good day for painting because there was little wind in our backyard. It would have been perfect had it been a little cooler. We scrubbed, washed, and sprayed. Six cans of paint later, we have almost completed the first coat.


After the paint thouroughly dries, we must turn the table and chairs over to spray the underneath and the bottoms of the legs. Then, we will apply a second coat.



We used a dark bronze hammered metal paint. Because of the textured finish, we were able to paint right over the old paint and the rust. It looks incredible! With just a little more good weather, we will be eating from this antique table and chairs in a little over a week.

The final step will be to find cushions for the chairs and see about cutting a hole in the middle of the glass so that we can purchase an umbrella for it. I see many outdoor meals in our future. And many new memories.

Chocolate, sweet chocolate

The fast is over. I made it 40 days without chocolate. Super D is convinced I must have cheated and snuck a treat, but I remained steadfast and spent a lot of time in prayer. Because of the death of our pastor, our church was asked to spend 40 days of prayer and fasting in preparation of a search for another pastor. If I stop to pray every time I think about chocolate, I should spend much of my day in prayer. That was the theory.

I am surprised at how little I missed chocolate. I had thought that it would consume my every waking thought, but I was only reminded of it in certain situations. For example, the day before I began, C bought me a bag of Hershey chocolate eggs for Easter. I had to hide them. Thankfully, I don't remember where I put them. And soon after that, I attended a book club meeting. The hostess's husband had made ooey-gooey brownies for us to eat as a snack. I politely and easily turned them down, but when he set the plate on the table in front of me, they called to me throughout the meeting. Chocolate snacks in the teacher's workroom at school weren't helpful either.

Of course, every time I passed a SONIC Drive-in, McDonald's, Braum's, Wendy's or Chick-Fil-A I pined for a chocolate ice cream treat. Apparently, I eat too much ice cream.

The thing I discovered is that although I consider myself a Chocolate Lover, I really just have a sweet tooth. It was WAY too easy to substitute other sweet treats for chocolate ones.

While I don't think I will ever give up chocolate completely, I probably will eat less of it from now on. Well . . . maybe after I go get a SONIC Blast with Butterfinger!

Photo by Idea Go

A Big Geek

Apparently, I'm part sci-fi geek. I absolutely cannot wait until the next episode of Doctor Who. Here it is, Wednesday, and I can't stop thinking about how long it is until Sunday. I should be thinking about church, but instead, I am dreaming of The Doctor. Pathetic, huh?

The depressing thing is that we don't even get BBC America. So instead of watching on Saturday night like the rest of the country, I have to wait until Sunday morning to download it from iTunes. Of course I have to get up early enough so that I have time to download, watch the episode, and still get ready in time for church.

My favorite episode, "Blink", scares my socks off. There is something so creepy about the weeping angels that I find myself staring at statues everywhere I go.

Beautiful, right?

This is what they do when you're not looking at them.

Creepy, right?

Doctor Who "Blink" trailer

See? I'm a geek at heart.

Happy Teacher Day

Thanks to Mrs. Cable, who took her time with a 4YO girl who was really too immature to begin school. Mrs. Cable was nurturing, kind, and willing to work with me anyway.

Thanks to Mrs. Bishop and Mrs. Rowley who were the best teacher team I could ever have had as I transitioned from private school to public school. What a difficult year that was for me! They made 4th grade fun! They will forever be "Mrs. Bishop" and "Mrs. Rowley", even though they are now my peers, and I see them often.

Thanks to Mrs. Kaufman, who challenged me to think "outside the box". It was she who introduced me to Olympics of the Mind (now known as Odyssey of the Mind), brainstorming, and Logic Problems. I still can't pass the newstand at Barnes & Noble without looking for the latest Dell Logic Problems issue!

Thanks to Mr. Orvis who gave me the opportunity to perform. It was in 6th grade that I found my love for harmony and show choir.

Thanks to my typing teacher (whose name I don't even remember). It's because of her that I type so fast.

Thanks to Mr. Attebery and Ms. Bartley, an excellent team who gave me two of the best years of my life. Under their teaching, I learned about hard work, dedication, teamwork, commitment, musicianship, stagecraft, promptness, and good clean fun!

Thanks to Dr. Byargeon who made the Old Testament so fascinating that I couldn't wait to take New Testament.

Thanks to Mrs. Woodward who taught me how to teach. What a gentle woman!

Thanks to Dr. Cobb, my idol. Theory, Sight-Reading, Conducting, Chorale. Best. Classes. EVER! I can't say enough thanks for writing some of the most beautiful music and letting me be a voice in your choir. I miss Chorale!

These great teachers and the many others I have not named here are the reason I am a teacher today. My classroom is shaped by their examples. I want to be like them.

Torn

Osama Bin Laden is dead. An evil man will no longer be able to hurt people. For that I am glad. But I am torn as to how to feel tonight. Do I rejoice at a man's death? Even when that man is an evil man who killed thousands of people?


And yet I am saddened by the levity with which people are speaking of this event. A lack of appropriate seriousness. A lightness of behavior and speech. I am not sad that he is dead, but I am disgusted that one man's evil deeds can cause people to celebrate death. Even if it is his own.

Determination