Devastation

How blessed we were this time to not be in the path of the wicked storms that blew through yesterday. Just a few miles away folks were hit and there is much devastation.

I spent all afternoon trying to keep our little school children calm in spite of what was happening outside the window. Parents started picking up kiddos by lunch and every child who left increased the anxiety of the ones who remained. By three, we were all wall to wall in the basement. During all that, I hoped and prayed that all my people, wherever the location, were seeking shelter. I remained calm and cool throughout, but once home and the all clear for our viewing area was finally announced, I was exhausted. Lord bless and keep those folks, who in a mere moment, found themselves homeless.

Speaking of devastation-

My son visited my classroom recently to speak to my students about the lives of the folks he is spending the next year with in Afghanistan. Our visit followed his visit to Bean's 2nd grade classroom.

I think for both Ceece (who came along) and I it brought the reality of this trip home and kicked in some anxiety. 1st. Lt. did a great job explaining his mission and the deplorable conditions the people there live in. He brought tools they made from their recent blacksmithing training and a slide show of the people and area. My students had lots of questions. Some of the answers were things I didn't really want to hear, yet at the same time didn't want to miss. While there, the soldiers try and support the economy by making purchases at a market. When they travel they move in tank like vehicles. These two situations are when they are most vulnerable to the Taliban. Apparently the enemy aims for truck in the middle. Since these soldiers will not leave a fallen comrade, the whole convoy is stopped by this action. Market places are out in the open which again makes them easy targets. Hard to hear.

He really impressed the kids by allowing them to try on his gear. It weighs seventy pounds at least. Bless him, he tried it on all 34 of them- over two hundred ons and offs.

First the helmet, then the bullet-proof vest, then the next thing that holds ammunition, and lastly the backpack. It nearly toppled several of my little ones. I tried it on too. Oh my.

I am so happy he was willing and able to visit. Next year when we write letters, send gifts and support those men and women, the kids will have a much clearer picture of the what and why of our service. Well, at least as much as any of us understand it.

The Hills are Alive

Whew, another Catholic's School Week down. It's a busy and bit stressful bit of work that culminated with a Family Fun Night. This "Fun" night includes a talent show. A talent show that carries the expectation of the teachers participating.

Sadly, ahem, last year I had promised Ol' Mother Hubbard that I would be the creative director of Miss Linee's princess party and had to leave the "Fun" night before the talent show started. I didn't think I'd better try that two years in a row, so, with reservation, signed my name on the line. Boy oh boy, what was I thinking? First I get this e-mail that we're going to do one of those mob style dances that are so popular in malls and train stations now and the song to which the mob would be responding. I no longer recall the name as I was unfamiliar with that tune, but just the title left me curious about the lyrics, so I quickly googled it before responding.

Well, let's just say I would not be shaking my blub at a family affair to the tune of that song. At lunch I questioned the song choice. When the leaders looked into it, they agreed that chaste teachers in a Catholic school should not even know that song, much less be twisting the night away to it. I thought, "Perhaps the whole flash mob scene would be squelched for something a little calmer." No, no, that is not what happened. New news that our performance would still require simultaneously hopping up from the crowd to gyrate to Footloose. Oh goody!

I have a love hate relationship with technology and such events are why. Back in the day, batteries didn't last long, so, since we went last, you could be safe knowing that batteries had been spent taping cutest punkin's performing their best. Now, every other person possesses the power to video tape you in their pocket.

So it went down like this, we are sitting in the crowd and the principal thanks everyone for coming and what a great show it was, etc, the parent operating the CD player, who is in on it, blasts out the song while we all scream like thirteen year olds and run to the stage and break out in, well I don't even know what you'd call what I do. Instead of breaking out, I'm trying to smile and make it look like I have a clue what I'm doing without breaking anything. And what to my wandering eye appears? Cell phones popping up all over, and yes, I know they aren't calling anyone, they are videotaping or capturing my picture.

Did you know I love to dance (Did you care) ? I frequently dance around my kitchen and am content to be in the middle of group at a reception swirling around with no one noticing. I have never had a desire to find my flashdancing self on the old FaceBook.

Those situations are just hard for me. I liked getting some exercise whilst dancing with my teacher friend girls during rehearsals, but being the oldest and the, let's see, okay, I'll just say it, fattest, doesn't make me good performance material. I surely don't want to be in anyone's picture. At the same time, I hate being the old fuddy duddy of the group. Sometimes, there just aren't any good answers.

On a different note, somewhere at school Bean heard someone say that the song they were singing was from The Sound of Music. He knows that is one of my favorites, so that was his movie of choice on Playdate Thursday. I loved watching them watching and loving it.

Success

Well, making conductive and insulating dough with 24 kiddos turned out to be a bit more involved than I planned. Thankfully, we had several projects that needed completing, in addition to their knitting, so the ones not making dough were involved in their Civil War Diary, or pictorial timeline of Indiana History, while I led small groups through dough making for almost two hours.

At that point, I was beginning to think that Squishy Circuits weren't the best idea after all. Yes, I could have made all the dough myself, but I have this annoying stubbornness about them having to have their hand in each part of the experiment.

Anyway, after lunch and spelling tests (that I intended to be pre-lunch), I gave instructions on proper care of the battery pack and lights and turned them loose. The responses to sticking lights in dough and having them work made all the tedious dough making worthwhile. They were astounded at themselves. I passed around buzzers and motors and mostly enjoyed watching them create one thing after another and throughly enjoying their science/electricity experience- good times! Thanks Michael, that one is a winner.

Back Up a Bit

Angels We Have Heard on High

My friend, Gardner E., volunteers in my classroom on Thursday mornings. She does a variety of art projects with my children. What you see here is a few of the Christmas stitcheries they made for their parents.

First she teaches them basic stitches, then they can choose from an assortment of angels, each holding a different instrument. For the dress, the students decide on color and stitch type.

These projects we do are, have mercy, of the hair pulling kind I'm telling you. Most of my fourth graders have no experience with textiles/fibers, or needles.

"Mrs. E, this string got tangled."

"It is yarn dear, and it doesn't tangle itself."

"Mrs. Paris, I parked my needle like you said, but it's gone."

"Sweetie, if it was parked in your fabric, it would be there."

"Mrs. Whoever is handy (cuz you know Mr. E goes and home and leaves me with the little tailors/seamstresses) how do you make a knot in the back again?"

"Darling, remember, you don't make a knot, you pull the yarn under several stitches on the back side."

"Uh, how can I do that, there isn't enough string."

"Well, that's why we've been saying since September that you always, always leave a couple needle lengths of yarn."

It is a lovely picture though, when 24 wee heads are bowed over their canvas, so intent, working like the shoemaker's elves.

The problem, one finishes in 3 sessions, while three are still stitching at the very last minute on the day we dismiss. Praise be, 24 beautiful angels were completed and wrapped by the bell that day. Now, one or two had no additional stars adorning the background and one had no instrument (no arms either actually, but since there was no instrument to play....), but all were perfectly adorable.

This kiddo worked so hard and was determined to see it through, even though he had picked a tough instrument to create.
The fellow who created this little masterpiece was absent on the first day of instruction, due to a broken elbow. I was worried that there was no way he could manage this, but he worked and worked at it. When he made her horn, he could see that it was too big and didn't look right. He shared with me his disappointment. I told him he had the option of just having the gold be part of her dress, but I thought if just took out the outline he'd made, it would be okay. He wanted her to have an instrument, so he opted for carefully pulling out those stitches that took him so much time in the first place, bless his heart. He said he was okay if she didn't have stars, but he wanted her to have arms. I asked if he wanted help, but he wanted it to all be his own work. Kudos to such a hardworking young man. I think his angel is divine.

I wrap them around mat board, so no rough edges show. Gardner E. brings wooden stamps from a trip to India and they stamp their own wrapping paper. So, their gift in it's entirety is a work of their heart and hands. I love it.

Thanks Gardner E. -how much for hair replacement? A tad premature perhaps since knitting starts in one week. Yee Haw!!

Busy, Busy,Busy

My class returned last Wednesday. All 24 of them. They are a good group and have started the year well. I usually get to class about 7 am and go non-stop until 5:30 or 6. Somehow, perhaps in schlepping stuff around, I hurt my back. I manage to sleep two straight hours on a good night and there have only been two of those. So thankful for coffee.

Sunday was BJ's Happy First Birthday.

He's being picky about which whipped cream berry to choose next. So cute.

It was my delight and privilege to bless a dear friend with a Bridal Tea for her darling girl. My side kicks -Miss Glitzy and Miss Resource and I pulled out the stops and put on our best show. I was chief cook, but they were awesome bottle washers. I so enjoyed the time we spent planning and preparing and watching the guest enjoy themselves. It was enchanting.

Guests enjoyed tropical chicken salad in phyllo cups, tomato basil tarts, vegies and dip, berries with sour cream and brown sugar, fresh benedictine, strawberry fluffs, warm brie with apples and pears,

coconut cream puffs, lemon meringue tarts, cream cheese mints, truffles and cookies.

I can manage all the food, but cookie decorating is not my thing. Lucky for me to have found someone who creates such beauties as these. They taste wonderful too.

Ah, such joy and sweetness.

Saved by the Dog

So, yesterday was the last day of school. I love to teach. I love the kids. I start the year full of ideas and excitement for what the year holds in store. Like a new fluffy dish cloth, I research and read and plan and soak up new ideas that I squeeze back out to my eager students. We do a ton of work, art and fun. By yesterday at 3:15, I felt like one of those dish rags that come out of the washing machine in pieces. That's it folks, no more, all done, tired, weary, finished!

Then, because some folks have to be out for a PD on our last teacher day, we had to have our "End of Year," meeting after school. Yes, you heard correctly. After every last bit of patience, ideas and goodwill had been put through the wringer and had come out on the other side in pieces, I had to talk about themes, and schedules and on and on and on, for four hours. I came home in a foul mood to say the least.

Good news! I slept well and returned to the scene of the crime this morning to retrieve my new chickie babies and bring them home. First, I stopped and introduced them to Arwen. She stuck her head in the bucket, as if to count them, then was no longer interested. Much earlier in the spring I planted the chicken tractor with wheat and chickweed, so I let them play in the sunshine and tasty treats most of the day.

I played in the yard, planting, planting and planting. Before my last bit of energy was spent, I decided I'd best return the wee babes to the coop. Now if you've ever raised chickie babies you know they run from you. I was catching them fairly easily in the small tractor and putting them, three at a time in a bucket, and transferring them to Cluckingham Palace. Of course, I'm trying to be calm, singing Amazing Grace. They are not impressed by my peaceful demeanor and hymn chanting and squawk their tiny heads off. When I put Holly, so named by my class, in the bucket, she climbs right on another chick's back and flies out of my bucket and the tractor into the VERY BIG chicken yard. Time for Keystone Cops!

Thankfully, as she is running full force along the fence line, Arwen the Wondergirl is running right along side her on the outside of the pen. I'm trying one trick after another, but am not catching Miss Holly. Finally, I get her cornered and pray I can grab her when she sticks her head through the fence. By now my heart is pounding, I'm dripping sweat and envisioning a lost Ameracauna. Oh, I'm also yelling, "Arwen, don't let her out! Don't eat her either!" God love that dog, she sticks her face right up the chicken, who is half through the fence, as if to say, "I double dog dare you to go another step." This terrifies the poor chick into submission and she plops her feathered hiney down in the dirt, and I pick her up.

Disaster averted, thanks to one faithful, smart dog!

Pizza Anyone?

This has been a big pizza week. My fourth graders had state testing all week. I like to do some particularly hand's on style learning during this time after all the tests. We just finished the chapter on matter in our science text. All those states of matter, physical, chemical and phase changes, solvents, solutes, etc are a bit abstract. I don't even think I had an iota's bit of exposure to those terms until 8th or 9th grade.

In an attempt to bring it to their level, we make our own lunch, mostly from scratch. At first they are a bit put off when they find out what we'll use to produce a chemical change in milk. But when we actually add the rennet from the stomach of a ruminating animal, they are fascinated to see it form curds and whey, and then cheese. We use the leftover whey to make pizza crust. Since winter, we've watched various herbs grow under the grow light and used them to create a mixture of pizza sauce and Ranch dressing from the original recipe. From lemons, oranges and sugar we concoct a drinkable solution. Lastly, we mix solids and liquids, apply heat and change it to yummy caramels. Dee- wish -us! And all that science jargon makes a bit more sense.

Well, we did it Wednesday. Whatever I do with my class my gramerlings want to do as well. So Wednesday night was more pizza. I don't really even like pizza, especially twice in one day, but I do love teaching these kiddos.

Pull, push, pull, push.

Push really, really hard!

Well, that pushing and pulling was fun, but we're still not quite done playing in that fun white fluff, so get the princesses for a little play time.

On with some favorite toppings.

Yum!

Speaking of eating, I just got a call from Rae returning from Gideon's two week check-up. He's already gained a pound and is thriving. Thank the Lord!

Back to School

So, I returned to school this week and it was a wild one. Lots to make up from our Christmas week being cut short by snow, while still having to have 9 weeks grades in today. I find grades a very stressful part of my job. I would love to just be able to report on a child's improvement. When awards are given for all "A's" or "A's" and "B's," then getting a grade for some kids and their parents becomes far more important than what they are learning. I will never understand why learning to spell words for a test on Friday, in order to make a grade that will land you on the honor roll is more valuable than being able to really learn vocabulary and how to spell that word forever. People would probably be shocked at how many students will get a hundred percent on a spelling test in the morning and spell the word wrong in their writing in the afternoon. Whoa, a lot was accomplished there don't ya think. Ahh, don't get me started.

I love to read good books and to read them to my students, children, grandchildren, whoever will listen. I have found some wonderful books through the years at Chinaberry. Samuel Blink and the Forbidden Forrest by Matt Haig was the last one I purchased. It was a huge hit. I never read long enough for my students, they were ever begging for more. The book was so loved I decided that something else must be done, so I let create a mural of the way they visualized the creatures. They did such an awesome job. I can't bear to take it down.

As I've mentioned before, I have two precious friends, retired teachers both, who come in to lend a hand and heart in my classroom. I have another teacher friend who also lends her time and wool dyeing knowledge. My students have no idea how blessed they are. We start weaving very early in the year. First, they use whatever yarn bits are available and that they fancy to make a bookmark. Then they made two bookmarks from yarn first dipped in three different mordants. The two on the left were white when first woven. Then they dipped the far left one in red cabbage juice and the middle one in some sort of weld and watched as the colors changed. What awesome projects.

During our pioneer studies, we made dolls. Each student made their own pattern. It was fun to see all their creativity at work. We ended up with a bride and many bridesmaids in the most interesting attire I've ever experienced at a wedding. That's the lovely bride in the front row in purple.

This week we started knitting. Good times. Children are so peaceful when they work with wool. I'm fascinated by the whole experience.

Crazy School Days and Stuff

Today was the first day with students. My class is very small this year and if the first day is any indication, we're off on the right foot. I think this is going to be a little class of prayer warriors, as we are going to adopt three people going through cancer treatment. I'm hoping for a pretty laid back year. I'm not to used to those.

The rest of our county is in a tiz. After dropping students off at daycares, grandparents and sitters for years, they suddenly decided to stop. Most folks didn't discover that until this week. So not only does elementary get out an hour earlier, 2:20, they have no transportation to caretakers ( including my first grade grandboy). Buses are full with 75 students to a bus and hour long bus rides in the 100 degree heat. Our tax dollars at work.

Usually my return to the classroom marks the end of gardening days. Oh, we keep eating it as long as we can find something, but there is no time for caretaking. The garden goods this year have been unusually delicious. I have so enjoyed the bounty.

Over the weekend I made salsa. Mine with sweet peppers and Handy Man's with a habanero he grew in the "up" garden. Wonderful, that's all.

When I was finished, I took the scraps out to the girls. Mama Yellow Chick Awesome had the babies out. She started bringing them out of the coop when they were only about ten days old. About gave me a heart attack. Then at two weeks, she brought them out of the chicken yard. We've been so blessed in the 14 months we've been on this chickie girl journey. No evil has befallen any girls while ranging around the yard. Well, except for poor Jetta, who did not survive baby Arwen's, "Play with the Squeak Toys" game.

Yellow Chick Awesome is very protective. We are not allowed near those babies. Handy Man said that this afternoon during a pop-up storm, she puffed all up and gathered them under her. She's been fascinating to watch. I really prefer her parenting to me having to worry over them.

"Watcha eating Mama, can I have some, huh, can I?"

Ahh, then there's Pap's Girl, who better be glad she's his girl, as she hasn't laid eggs in a long time. She's in love with him.

Our baby boy BJ is due any minute. Please pray with me for his safe arrival.

P U at the Palace

Hmm, wind, rain, sleet and snurries made little time for chickie girls to be out and about this week, so Cluckingham was a little smelly. All it takes is turning over the litter and opening the front and back doors and the P U is gone. Wish all P U's in life were so easily dealt with, don't you?
I was fairly determined, when I got the girls, to be the primary coop cleaner. Handy Man is as unaccustomed to seeing me wield a shovel as I am in wielding one. I know people have issues with it, but we just never have. I do the traditional girl stuff, and he does the traditional guy stuff. I'm just not in anyway insulted by him scraping my wind shield, starting my car and toting all the heavy stuff. It doesn't hurt his feelings to find his supper on the table and clean socks and underwear appear on his bed, placed there no doubt, by the good laundry fairy. So, when I clean the coop, Handy Man just stands and looks at me-the whole time. He's waiting, I know, for the familiar, "Gee, this is heavy," or " Aghhh, there's a mouse, snake, wildebeest (you get the idea) in these poopy chickie wood chips." Alas, far too familiar, " Ummm, I don't want to do this anymore." Then he will save me, just like in the fairytales, just like in our daily living.
I am of a grateful heart for all this saving through the years, but in the hen house, I persevere and he watches, that sweet man.

Handy Man models Christ to me in that way. My decisions, to do things on my own in my own way, aren't always as purposeful as coop cleaning. When it gets too heavy, when I come to my senses, and realize my idea wasn't such a good one, I turn to One who hasn't forgotten, but was just waiting and watching, ever forgiving and loving.

I love that I can celebrate Him where I work. This week was the Christmas Musical. I'm sort of in charge of the drama, costumes, etc. I mean, seriously, it was the sweetest play. The message was the one of our hearts and has a place in our school, but especially sweet, because two students, no one would've expected to find on stage, were the stars.

I have always had a heart for little boys that most teachers, people in general, find a bit out of control. I have no clue why. I really have to fight all year to not play favorites. I got a little guy this year, who came with a reputation. My school is small and we all know each other, so every time I talked to the parents through the years, they would say, " Just wait till you get Mr. Question Man!!!." I replied, "I am not scared." Now, he can't easily let anything go, and he thinks I am his personal encyclopedia, but I love this boy.
Crazier still, is the way I love quiet, backward, hard working girls. Ummm, no idea. Of course, I always have at least one and this year was no exception. My little wallflower would easily fade herself right into the woodwork, just working her fanny off and being good.
Mr. Question desperately wanted a part in the play and Wallflower wanted no part in being front and center. So, I threw caution to the wind, asking myself, "Where else will Mr. Question be allowed this opportunity?" Then, I shamelessly pulled that, "I will do anything for you teacher" card on Wallflower, and she reluctantly acquiesced. Both of them shocked and amazed us all, in addition to making us all cry.
I'm crazy over nativity sets, and have too many, of every make and model, but no matter how they appear, every Joseph I snuggle in the straw with Mary and the baby will wear the face of my sweet boy, Mr. Question. Each time I see Hawaiian stuff, Wallflower's beautiful face will be on my mind. Precious!

14 to 16 eggs a day this week. The girls knows we're getting ready for Christmas

Grief

Mom called last night. I expected it. I knew in the coming days she would need lots of contact. Since the egg basket is overflowing, I stopped by to see her on my way to the grocery with a dozen. It always leaves me sad. She had a brace on her foot, an ice pack on her knee, a pillow form around her neck and oxygen in her nose. For someone who loved doing, it is so hard for her. I do believe she's breathing a bit better. This watching someone leave this world is quite a stressor. I know we'll need to hover close by.

Is it just the lot of being female to always feel pulled in multiple directions. As I was leaving, she asked me to make her some Mexican Cornbread and told me I really disappointed her when I made it at Kaye's and didn't bring her any. I remember that Sunday. It was a Kaye day and I try to make supper for her and Pete and then make ours at the same time, then I was going to drop some off to mom. My original plan was to do just that, but as usual, plans changed. Ceece and 1st Lt. needed a sitter at 4, and Miss Bugg had been begging to see her best friend Antebellie. I had Antebellie and O Henry's birthday gift, so I said for 1st Lt. to drop the kiddos off to me at Kaye's and I would take them to play at their cousins and deliver the presents. 1st Lt needed his Dad's truck, so he then took Handy Man's dinner to him. Alas, another stop didn't make it into the agenda.
Tonight I ran by with the eggs, but had two errands to run to be ready for the Gingerbread House Party and because I'm teaching rocks and need to make an edible example of sedimentary, igneous and metamorphic rock, to move it from my students short term to long term memory, and had to be back at PTO meeting at 6:30, so no time to cook supper for Handy Man. Then I feel disappointed in myself, but sometimes, I just can't make it all work.
I do believe however that the above paragraph contains the world's longest sentence.

At PTO, the question came up about Christmas gifts for teachers. First, I expressed that my students don't owe me a gift at Christmas. Ones that are handmade and heartfelt are appreciated, but really, mugs and favorite teacher ornaments are, well, not so much. I mean if the intention is to spend five bucks, I'd rather have a gift card to the local coffee shop for five bucks. Same for fragrant lotions, bubblebath etc. Handy Man buys my favorites and I have no real need for more. Gift cards to places like Hobby Lobby means way less is spent out of my pocket on their kiddos. It surprised to me hear that some parents were surprised to know a teacher would like that. Typically parents have no idea how much money we spend out of our own pocket every year. My kids do a ton of projects and most of it I pay for. I did have someone in leadership for a time who would help me out, which was certainly lovely. Anyway, I was glad they asked.

One reason I love teaching in a Catholic School is that I get to celebrate Advent with my students every day. We turn off the lights, light the candle, have a devotion, scripture, prayer and song in the candlelight. In this season of craziness, it is sometimes the very best part of my day.

What's the best part of your day?