the slotted spoon

a good time was had by all

2011-09-11T17:56:00.000-07:00

This is Monica right after she arrived at her baby shower, held at Melissa's house. She was hot and tired and hungry, but she looked super cute and was nice as always. She is, indeed, heavy with child. We all thought that maybe she'd like to hurry up and have Jack, but no. Monica still has a lot of things she wants to get done before Jack makes his appearance. She has big dreams.

We all enjoyed being together, eating fruit kabobs, otter pops, and Trudy's yummy peanut butter chocolate bars. Oh, and watching Monica open her mounds of gifts for Jack-baby. Baby Jack. Who spent some time Saturday as a jumping Jack. Ha ha, I'm trying to get all my Jack puns out of the way now, so I don't ruin a family gathering in the future. If he's a cracker Jack, who gets the prize? ha ha ha ha. I kill me.

Sorry Jack. Abuela Juli loves you. And can't wait to see you. xxoo. Travel safely.

It's all about Tim

2011-08-22T08:21:00.000-07:00

This is Tim and a friend in Mexico. Tim is no longer in Mexico, much to his chagrin and my great joy. He is working for his father, digging tree holes, planting trees, and etc. Dave has quite a long list of things he wants to get done and will gladly pay Tim to do them. If Tim continues to work for only 2.5 hours per day, however, he will be in our employ for a long time. I keep challenging him to finish it all so he can move on to someone else's payroll.

This is Tim and Dave at the Idaho Falls airport. Notice Tim's eyes are closed. Notice Dave is smiling. Both events are highly unusual.

This is Tio Tim becoming acquainted with Calvin. I think it's going well.

These are Tim's mission shoes. RIP, mission shoes.

it's been such a long time

2011-08-09T07:45:00.000-07:00

This is Calvin. His head isn't really normal looking, because I'm holding him and trying to take his picture at the same time, while he is interested in taking my camera away from me. Calvin is my friend.

As far as posting on my blog, I'm starting to see a pattern here. I'm losing months at a time! I'm going to set a blogging goal and see if that doesn't jumpstart this sucker.

I have decided that my favorite month of summer is August. It has all the sweetness of summer, with the added urgency of impending doom--er, I mean, fall. The fields are golden or green (depending on the crop), the sky is cornflower blue, my farmer's tan is in full bloom. I enjoy June, but it's not really summer. Here, it's more like late winter sometimes. July is also good, but I'm usually so busy in July that it's hard to really sit down and enjoy it. Plus, things are still moving toward their peak instead of sitting on top of the peak and cheerfully waving 'hello' to me (like what happens in August).

There are apples on the red-apple tree, but only a few on the green-apple tree. There are 5 or 6 apricots, just starting to turn the proper shade of orangy-yellow (I don't know why we don't get more apricots, but we never do). The chokecherries are starting to turn but aren't ready yet. By the time they're ready, the birds will have eaten most of them. C'est la vie.

Where did May go?

2011-05-29T18:16:00.000-07:00

Oh dear. There has been a lapse in my blogging that can only be chalked up to "end of the year frantic dash" syndrome. It afflicts teachers all over the world, I hear. I had a particularly nasty case of it this year. I'm getting better, however.

I have a hard time saying "no" to requests that either seem reasonable or smack dab in my skill set. Therefore, in addition to teaching three different preps at school, I am/was: the secretary/treasurer for my teacher association, with responsibility to get the Teacher Appreciation Week treats and the End of Year Thank Yous; on the Calendar Committee for the district; on the Negotiation Team for the district; appointed Chair of a group of 5 teachers who had to plan and present a full day of training on the Danielson Model, which will be used next year to evaluate all the teachers in the district; and the Relief Society President in my church ward, which basically means I am responsible for the women who go to my church. Additionally, my husband has been out of town for the entire month of May with very limited access the last three weeks, meaning I've had no one to vent to/bounce ideas off of/keep me safe from the boogy man. Truthfully, that last one is the kicker.

I could probably have pulled all of that off better if I'd had Dave around. There's just something about a long-term relationship that stabilizes and nourishes, both. The only benefit to Dave's prolonged absence is that I've had plenty of time to reflect upon exactly how much I need him, and how much I owe him.

Some of those responsibilities continue, but I've gotten through the one-timers and put out all the fires. All things considered, I did admirably. In the past few days, I've gotten new birdfeeders, taped off a wall that needs new paint, pulled much of the excess grass from the front planter, and got a couple of new glow-in-the-dark globes for outside. You see? I've done a lot. Now I'm ready to be a good little blogger again. Forgive me?

Toss, keep, or give away

2011-04-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

One of my students said something interesting the other day. We were talking about TV shows, and she said "I hate that one show that goes in and makes a new house for people!" Well, that seemed uncharitable of her, so I asked why. It turns out that she doesn't think that making a new house will help people become tidy or organized or materially better, and so it's a waste of time and money to watch something that will ultimately be a failure (in her enlightened 17 year old mind).

But there is some truth in there, too. I jokingly said "You mean that if you cleaned up my classroom, you don't believe I could keep it tidy?!" Actually, not jokingly, more like self-mockingly. Anyway, she and the other students around her all snorted. I think that's teenager for "Not in my lifetime." And unfortunately for my organizationally-challenged soul, I think they may have been right.

In my defense, I do a lot of things and there's a purpose for each assignment and activity that goes on in my classroom. But sometimes I plan more activities and assignments than can be quickly tabulated and re-distributed, and so those assignments may end up on my table by my computer. And then a new set may be placed on top of the old set. And so on. :-(

I'm working on doing better. And I believe in my heart that if someone came and cleaned it all up, I could keep it clean. I just know it. Let's find out!

trilling along

2011-04-03T15:47:00.000-07:00

Glorious! That's the word that came to me as I listened to the nice tenor start The Sprit of God at the end of General Conference on Sunday morning. As the other two members of the trio joined in a waterfall of sound, and then the men, and then the whole choir, I joined in (I often join the Mo Tabs. I'm an honorary member, even if they don't know it.). So there I am, at my kitchen table -- the TV decided to lose its satellite signal-- singing along with my choir peeps, looking out at our mudluscious backyard with a weak sun peering into the windows on my right, and I start crying. As usual. Can't finish the song with the same good sound I started it with. As usual.

Why oh why is it so hard for me to sing a whole song when I feel the spirit? I guess it's because I consciously testify as I sing, since words mean something and all our choir songs have words that mean things that I believe in. But I could never join my choir for reals if I can't get through a simple song expressing joy in the Spirit of God! The MoTabs sing stuff like that all the time! Maybe it's time to put that little dream in a box and store it on my shelf.

But at my kitchen table, or in my car, or even in the congregation during Sacrament Meeting, I can still practice. Maybe some day I'll be able to cry without affecting my voice, and then I can take the "honorary" off my status.

somewhat somber reflections

2011-03-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

The ennui that threatens to envelope my soul each winter starts to recede by the end of March. This is good. In the midst of it, I forget that it won't grip me forever. But then the snow begins to melt, I can venture out without a coat (but only because I'm so dang warm blooded--don't you try it yet), and it's light for longer into the evening. Clearly I suffer from SAD, and clearly the fact that Jocelyn died in the middle of March adds to it. I can accept these truths about my life. I try not to let it interfere too badly with those I love, although I'm certain it does a little. Sorry, y'all.

Today I went to a funeral for my friend Esther's father, who would have turned 91 this June. He was a World War II vet, a teacher, and a farmer. He has an enormous family just by virtue of having 5 children who have had children who have had children. Many of them were at the funeral, and one of his grandsons sang "This is the Christ" accompanied by his (the grandson's) wife. At the cemetery, we were met by an honor guard. They gave a 21 gun salute. Taps was played (beautifully) by 2 borrowed trumpeters. And I was there, in a turtleneck but without a coat. I was only slightly cold by the end of the service.

This made me think about how nice a life well-lived is, for everyone. Sure, there were tears there, but none in anguish.

That's how I want it to be in 42 years when I die.

books & sisters & evidence of the future need for braces

2011-03-16T16:32:00.000-07:00

Today is the day we lost Jocelyn's physical presence here on earth, 12 years ago. We have lots of reminders of her, though. And we carry her in our hearts. I am to the place where I can see how we've grown from our loss, but of course I always say I'd rather be shallow and have Jocelyn here than deep & thoughtful without her.

the hot & cold of it all

2011-03-07T20:32:00.001-08:00

Dave keeps checking my iPhone's weather app. I have the city each child lives in on there, plus a few more to help me plot trips to and from Boise or Utah (the only places I regularly go). I also, on a whim, included Belize (since Dave is such a big fan), Whitehorse (an older couple in our ward went there recently), and Yellowknife (awesome, but puzzling, name). Belize City is there as affirmation that there is a place in the world that isn't freezing. The last two are affirmation that it could be worse. All in all, the weather app is a morale booster in addition to an excellent guide to whether or not I have to bring my coat to work still. (the answer, alas, is yes).

don't fence me in; you, either

2011-03-05T12:29:00.000-08:00

I like sports. I watch a lot of baseball, football, and basketball, and moderate amounts of soccer, tennis, and golf. I seriously love to watch a track meet (especially the relays) even if I don't know anyone running/jumping/throwing. The Olympics are one of my favorite times (I watch everything). I have coached softball and soccer and track.

I also like the arts. When I was younger, I liked to sing, act, and dance. Now I like to watch it. I have been to plays on Broadway, at community theaters, at colleges, and at high schools (I usually draw the line at high school, although I know there are some excellent jr. high programs). I have played in marching bands and orchestras, sung in choirs and all by myself. I have directed plays and musicals. I even was an extra in a movie, some TV shows, and a bank commercial.

I am reasonably well educated. I have read voraciously since I was five or six. I write essays, poetry, short stories, and would like to finish my novel. I have always been good at standardized tests (including AP English Literature). I pay attention to local, state, national, and world events (which usually turns into politics, but it's more than that). I am a firm believer in a free public education for all.

I don't usually list everything I like in one place like this. I guess I was thinking about it because so many of my friends and students think they can only like one type of thing. A sports person can't like theater and shouldn't be intellectual. An intellectual person shouldn't see any benefit to solo or team sports, or waste time on frivolous artsy-fartsy things. And of course, theater geeks needn't apply if they like to watch or participate in sports. Supposedly.

I strongly disagree. Using the "it works for me" trope is kind of a fallacy, but I say it because maybe someone stuck on one of those islands will look out and notice the land bridge that connects to Somewhere Else. And then cross it.

The only problem is that with a large variety of interests, it's hard to get good enough at any one to really make my mark. So I guess my mark will have to be the multiplicity of options in my garden of life.

It's fun out here. Come on over!

Kiwi or Aussie?

2011-02-28T14:56:00.000-08:00

I am reading a book by Bill Bryson entitled In a Sunburned Country. It's about Australia, and it was written over 13 years ago. Bryson is an amusing writer, and full of information. The basic premise is, he drops himself into Australia and goes to see something and tells you about it. He makes Australia seem very interesting, reporting all the species that live there (over 25,000) and that it's the most dangerous continent (in the sense that many of those 25,000 species are poisonous and/or deadly in some other way) (also that thousands of miles of Australia are uninhabitable and uninhabited, so that when you do venture out there and die no one knows for days and days). He's kind of like your slightly sadistic uncle, repeating stories of how this explorer or that one went out in the bush and never came back. The joke is that he's doing it under the conceit that he's the one frightened by this, and therefore repeating the gag throughout the book is a mean trick he's playing on himself.

I always thought I'd rather see New Zealand than Australia (you know, LOTR scenery and all), but this book makes me reconsider. The main drawback is that most of the beaches turn out to harbor (pun) deadly animals, so my favorite fantasy of sitting on the beach and toddling down to the water's edge for a dip wouldn't really fly. Although all the beaches he describes sound lovely.

been evaluated today

2011-02-24T20:35:00.000-08:00

Actually, I had the meeting about the evaluation today. So the good news is that my principal thinks that I know and enjoy my subject area (he's right) and that I'm not afraid to try technology (also correct). I am getting better about contacting parents with positive news (instead of phone calls about how bad Junior is in class). And, I'm "emerging" from utter hopelessness in classroom environment to something closer to professional-level but not quite. This is also, unfortunately, correct. (same as my house). The sad part is that's the value I chose (I chose 2 and he chose 2). But I'm like that: I don't mind being dinged on something that I know is true. I try to accept it and become better because I know it's true.

He recommended me for re-hiring anyway. So I guess I get to do this again next year! Unless the legislature decides that teachers aren't really needed, and replaces us with laptops. (okay, they'll still need someone to babysit the kids with the laptops, so maybe they won't completely bag teachers).

The one where I take a pledge

2011-02-16T18:26:00.000-08:00

I take piano lessons every Wednesday after school. This was my Christmas present from Dave, and I love it. I always wished I knew how to play, and especially I always wished I knew how to read bass clef (playing clarinet taught me treble clef).

I don't know how good I can get, but I hope I can figure out how to play with both hands with some kind of rhythm. My first song like that is my solo, which is a little ditty with a Spanish flavor. I seriously suck at it right now. And I'm not practicing enough. Those two things may be related, neh?

Also, my left hand is ridiculously weak. It's hard for me to practice for an hour without my fingers starting to curl up. Again, refer to the sentence regarding my practice habits.

Since I sincerely want to become a piano player, I herewith commit to practicing every day. It's not like I'm spending all my nights correcting papers (I've been leaving those at school). I can do this.

While I'm at it, I'm going to start alternating Diet Coke with water (which will cut down the DC habit) and using my treadmill. Seriously, I can do this. Goooooo me!

yeah I made it

2011-02-14T18:47:00.000-08:00

Just so you know, I did make it until Dave got home. It was nip and tuck for a while there, though. But all is finally right in my empty-nester world. Dave is home, and he brought me a bookmark with a 3D flamingo on it, some turtle earrings, and some shell earrings. Plus he saw 10 new bird species, so that was a win for him.

Tonight we hit Applebees early (like 4:40) to avoid the lover's crowd. and we did (avoid it). I always tease Dave about his tendency to eat with the senior citizens, but this time it was a goooood Idea. By the time we left at 5:30, there was a line. So happy Valentines Day to you. I hope you avoided the line.

completely dependent upon him

2011-02-12T15:41:00.000-08:00

A week without my husband is about six days too long. We agree that we have become bigger babies like this the longer we have been married. He said on the phone "I don't want to travel with anyone but you" (while explaining that he was having a fine time but not really). But we have several things in our lives set up so that we have to spend time apart, and it will all work out fine because we know we have each other forever. I'm not really a baby, and I am not afraid of solitude. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm all alone in this cold house with noone to warm me up.

I did get some reading done this week. And some cleaning, but not as much as I thought I might. I didn't have to cook even once, but I did make cookie bars one night. Probably would have been better if I'd made a healthy soup or something. Ummm. That about covers the positives. The light is beaming at the end of the tunnel, though. I think I can make it.

thinking about what to eat now

2011-02-08T19:34:00.001-08:00

My metabolism has been on the fritz for most of my married life (I blame the toll taken by birthing 5 children in 8 years, but really it seems to be genetic). I don't actually eat that many calories per day most days, although I do occasionally blow through many more calories than are necessary to sustain life. Overall, however, my portions are fine. My main problem food-wise is that I prefer carbs and diet coke over fruits and vegetables.

No real point to this observation. I know that when I take my eating habits more seriously I will be healthier and feel better. (I have been encouraged to get to this point by each child and my dear husband, so it's not for a lack of support that I lag). I'm not there yet, but I can see it in the distance. I also need to stretch out every day, and exercise more. I can see those two habits getting closer to reality, too.

I know a person who will periodically "quit" one food item or another, but not really. They always revert, usually sooner than later. I am determined that when I quit, I will really quit. and I'm not ready yet, but I'm getting there.

Speaking of not ready yet, does anyone know where I put that Haagen Dazs?

I love extreme weather

2011-02-02T09:56:00.000-08:00

Why hello, February. Nice of you to come by.

What? It's too cold to go to school today? Oh, okay. I'll stay home and write my own education reform proposal in the bright sunshine spilling onto my kitchen table.

I might even take a nap. shh. don't tell.

something new & something unfortunately familiar

2011-01-31T08:32:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Dave made me go shopping. He was bored. And shopping isn't boring??? We found me this new coat. I like it a lot. It's wool & nylon & cashmere. (ooooh cashmere). It's not yield sign yellow. I like it a lot.

On Sunday, I woke up with that familiar pressure behind my left eye. Despite my best efforts (ibuprofen, rest, fervent prayer) it progressed to my old friend "barf every 1.5 hours, willya?" until about 9:30 p.m. By 11 p.m., when I woke up again, I could tell I was better. Fat lot of good it does me at 11 p.m.

Today, I am home, recuperating from both days.

I hope your Sunday was better than mine.

I am inspired to do better

2011-01-23T10:41:00.000-08:00

I like to read what my children write. They are all terrific communicators, with unique style. I sometimes get nostalgic for when they were little, and I was their mommy. Many of my dreams lately feature them as 7-10 year olds, oddly enough. Also, I have a very tender spot in my heart for a few of their friends, who I consider my partners in affecting their lives. Truthfully, when I write that I'm talking to you, Abby-normal. I appreciate you so much. You are a strong and positive woman and have been Melissa's sister when she needed one. Plus, you make adorable children, which is a big bonus. (for some reason, your comment that you would walk Melissa half-way home if she visited you made me cry; probably because I used to do that with my friends, too.)

I was reading on Melissa's "friend" blog (Honestly Onto) about her latest food book read. She is talking about her food philosophies, and I think to myself "How did she get so good?" I use cream of whatever soup all the time (as she very well knows), have no problem with hotdogs and bologna, and drink my weight in soda every couple of days. But, and here's the thing (this must be where she got it from): I agree with healthy eating. I agree with her philosophy about eating whole food instead of processed food. And I know I should be eating better. So, once again inspired by my children's wisdom and energy, I will try to do better.

I say once again because my children as a rule are much better _______ (fill in the blank) than I am. It amazes me that they came from my womb, and my household. Must be Dave's genes proving out.

save me from myself, or what I wish was myself?

2011-01-20T18:10:00.000-08:00

So yesterday I was worrying about one of my former students and I was going to write a blog about it but Blogger wouldn't let me! It wouldn't accept my blog, it wouldn't save, it barely recognized my right to exist! And today, I think "Thanks, Blogger!" Its recalcitrance probably saved me from blathering on about something that I can neither solve or resolve.

And it's funny, because what I was really worried about was my lack of "all in" ness. To splain: I love my students (most of them). Truly I do. But I'm not one of those teachers who is going to start texting and hanging out with them. I'm not going to solve all of their home/personal problems. I have some teacherfriends who try to do that (solve problems) and it seems like mostly what they get for their trouble is additional stomach acid for their ulcers. They don't end up fixing anything! But I feel guilty sometimes for not trying--for surely I'm better at it than they are and my efforts would eventually pay off. Ha.

So what I actually have is the conundrum that is me: I care, and I empathize like the dickens. But I leave all the heavy-lifting up to them. It's their life, not mine. They have choices to make, and I will gladly advise. Simultaneously caring and aloof. It's a curse. Sorry, guys. (really I am; I'd change if I could).

Jesse, this is my most recent column - it's kind of snarky

2011-01-13T18:19:00.000-08:00

Despite the preposterous fantasy created and inexplicably promulgated by Wayne Hoffman—budget problems are caused by lavish teacher contracts?!--the fact remains that stories told about teachers using their own limited money for supplies to make lessons more interesting, and getting second jobs to support their “teaching habit,” are true. It is, in point of fact, exponentially harder to teach a class of 35 than a class of 25, not to mention finding the additional time needed to grade the papers that a larger class generates each day.

Unfortunately (and paradoxically), it’s also easier for a quiet child who doesn’t “get it” in one of these larger classes to slip by; this child will carry this undetected learning gap to their next class or grade, where it will impact further learning. This learning gap is a direct result of the larger class, which is a direct result of hiring fewer teachers as a direct result of reduced funding. To pretend otherwise is utter nonsense.

Unions began over a century ago because of heinous abuses perpetrated upon many workers by their bosses. Child labor laws, forty-hour work weeks, and a day’s pay for a day’s work all came from unions, and are now accepted as the norm. As often happens with radical changes, over the years the union movement became somewhat unpopular. Idaho is a so-called Right to Work state, which means that no worker can be forced to join a union.

The Idaho Education Association, commonly referred to as the teacher’s union, doesn’t force anyone to belong (often only 50% of a district belongs); membership isn’t required in order to get a job, and non-IEA members get the same pay and benefits as IEA members.

The IEA vigorously supports its members, and each legislative session works to protect teachers’ rights, but the group doesn’t use force-- except in the sense that it represents a body of voters who have some common interests. I say “some” because the members of the IEA can be unruly. They don’t all belong to the same party, nor all vote for the same people. There are no internal repercussions for this behavior, however. Party affiliations aren’t checked, and there are no loyalty oaths.

If you want to examine a group that sometimes behaves like those old-fashioned unions, take a look at the Republican legislators. They require membership, are rigidly hierarchical, and protect their own (regardless of merit). Finally, if you’d like to see what a Cadillac insurance and retirement plan looks like, take a look at what’s available to legislators (both parties benefit from this).

Legislators “negotiate” with themselves for raises and benefits. At least the IEA locals negotiate with the people who will pay them.

I know, I know

2011-01-13T18:14:00.000-08:00

I don't know why I got out of the habit, but I'm getting back in. Sorry 'bout that. (this was taken last summer, before Calvin joined our family. I call it "We are silly people.")

What I did this week:

2010-10-09T09:27:00.000-07:00

I'm a grandma! I'm a grandma!! Boy, I was tired, and I only watched. But it was all good, because now I'm a grandma! Calvin Clark Peterson, 7.1 lbs and 19 inches. Yay!

so long and oh hello

2010-09-26T17:17:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to say "see ya" to September. It doesn't seem possible, but it's almost October. Fer reals. I think the later-than-usual start to my school year messed with my internal clock, because it seems too soon to be autumn. The weather the past few days, and in the forecast for the future few days, has been gorgeous. 80 degrees and sunny. Light wind coming out of the southwest (as usual for around here) (doubt it? look at the direction my trees lean). Most of the local grain has been cut, last crop of alfalfa has been baled, so now the fields are either straw covered or in the process of getting turned over for the winter.

One reason I'm glad for October is that's probably when I'm going to get to meet my grandson. Unless he surprises us and comes before Thursday, which Melissa says doesn't feel likely. But it's her first, so what does she know?! Heck, I couldn't predict it with Tim, and I'd birthed 4 babies in 7 years by the time I was waiting for him to come visit. I've got a blanket for Baby Boy (probably Calvin) Peterson that I'm working on. I hope I finish it before he's born. I hope he likes me. I hope he's healthy. I hope he gives sufficient notice so that I can get to Logan in time to meet him. Hope hope hope.

celebrating the imminent arrival

2010-09-06T17:32:00.000-07:00

These two did a lot of work!Aunt Lu demonstrating the same thing that all of us did--over-estimate the size of Melissa's belly.
Happy people gathered together!
The boys came back, but they stayed in the background, yo.
Mama Mo & Auntie Mon
I was there too, but since I had the camera. . . you'll just have to trust me on this one.

da trees

2010-08-26T18:31:00.000-07:00

Dave loves trees. Everyone knows that, but now we have photographic proof. Plus, these big and ancient trees give off seriously good vibes. I really really liked seeing them.

more sights from vacationland

2010-08-24T08:32:00.000-07:00

Ducks in the pond quack a happy song. Oh wait, those aren't ducks! Those are birds who inexplicably think living 31 miles off the coast is a fabulous idea. Included therein are marbled murrelets, albatross, shearwaters of a couple types, and one other bird that I'm forgetting. I was still heaving over the rails at this juncture, so I may not have been paying the strictest attention.

The aforementioned tidepools. oooh. aaah.

This was the view I had of Dave for at least half of the trip. Isn't he cute with his sunglasses perched on top of his hat? You can't see his eyes because of the binocs, but they're still golden (not green, not brown, and not speckled enough to be hazel which is what he always calls them. They're golden.)

And I haven't even gotten to the trees yet.

Newport, Oregon sights

2010-08-23T20:48:00.000-07:00

This is the hotel we stayed at in Newport, OR, from the beach down below. Our room looked out right onto the beach. Because it was on a cliff, the ocean just roared at you (the echo, I guess), but for me it was a perfect white noise for sleeping so we left the sliding door open at night.

The other picture is the Yaquina Head lighthouse, slightly north of Newport. That cove on the left is full of rounded black rocks instead of sand. It's like walking on marbles. But the tide pools are very cool! Dave has a couple of cool pictures of the tide pools. I'll post them next.

Things I learned about Oregon

2010-08-23T17:34:00.000-07:00

Blogger doesn't like my trip pictures, so I'm just going to tell you a few things I learned about Oregon on my recent vacation:

1. Oregon road signs are pithy. They don't say "speed limit" they say "speed." They don't say "falling rocks" they say "rocks."
2. Oregon doesn't seem to have convenience stores/stop n go/gas marts. If you want a soda, find a grocery store. Or pay $2 at the motel.
3. The vast majority of cars at the 3 hotels we stayed at in Oregon had Oregon plates. Oregonians stay in-state, I guess.
4. Oregonians love their Dairy Queens. There was a DQ in every small town we drove through.
5. Oregon has high desert land, mountain land, and coastal land. It's all greener than Idaho land.

Maybe if I shrink the size of my pictures, Blogger will accept them. I'm sure you're dying to see.

we are so hip & happnin

2010-08-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

We had our first experience with Craigs List. We bought a treadmill! It is eerily like the one I gave to Moriah Mason a couple of years ago for her fundraising garage sale, which means it is just like it only probably the next model up (it's definitely a newer model).

I am trying every trick I know against myself to get myself to have a regular exercise time. The bad news is that my husband has been very supportive. Why is this bad you ask? Because that's proof it's needed. sigh. I was hoping I could keep him fooled for a bit longer, and then unveil my inshape self and surprise him. No such luck. I'm going to need his muscles to get that treadmill into the house.

one two skip a few

2010-08-08T19:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it's comforting to see a trait of older generations in you (like if your grandfather was a great singer, and you realize you can sing, too). Sometimes, however, it's disconcerting to see a trait crop up. Like when I realized the other day that I could easily become as agoraphobic as my mother was. I don't really like leaving the house some days, even when I'm not accomplishing much. If I make myself get out, I'm fine. I don't have panic attacks or anything. I just don't want to move. Maybe it's not that I'm borderline agoraphobic; maybe I'm just the tangible manifestation of the 1st (?) law of physics--an object at rest tends to stay at rest.

I also have my mom's good skin, so it's not all bad news on the genetic trait front.

Benedict Arnold is alive and well in Ashton

2010-07-21T16:51:00.000-07:00

While my children were growing up, one thing I often did was try to help them understand others. Teaching children empathy sometimes helps them a) understand the people around them, even the bullies (especially the bullies?), and b) plan ahead for social consequences of their own behavior. I think it's a good parenting strategy on all counts.

The trouble starts when the people I'm trying to understand go to crazyland. In crazyland, they don't have to be logical or fair. Those are two qualities that I highly prize, so you might see why empathy is harder for me when I'm dealing with Crazylanders.

For instance, in our local paper recently we've had op eds from extreme Tea Party-ers. The one yesterday made me want to laugh and cry at the same time, and not in a good way like when you read a really good chick novel. This fellow said that basically the United States has been a broken state since the Civil War; that the southern states were only fighting tyranny (just like the Revolutionary War) when they tried to secede; and that Lincoln was the face of tyranny. He said that slavery wasn't close to the main issue of the war, and that the founding document of our country was the Declaration of Independence. And I want to say to him: WHAT???

I really like the Declaration of Independence. It's terrific rhetoric, but it's not the founding document of our country. It's propaganda issued in an attempt to get some foreign aid, or at the very least to prevent foreign intervention on England's side. It was successful in its purpose. But the founding document of our country is the Constitution, and it was debated and tweaked and revised by a group of men from different states all working together after the debacle of the Articles of Confederation.

The whole "explain history whatever way I want" attitude bothers me. I guess I consider the man's basic premise borderline treasonous to the country, and what un-nerves me is that there hasn't been a huge backlash to his op ed. So I'm sitting here trying to decide what I should do about it. I just wrote a column last Tuesday that pointed out the folly of trying to label people, since we all sometimes color outside the lines of our labels. I realize that identifying him as a resident of Crazyland is pretty close to labeling. I'm trying to remain logical and fair about this disagreement, and understand the point of view that might lead one to this particular corner of Crazyland.

But I have to admit, it's a struggle for me.

search engine my eye

2010-07-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

I remember back in the olden days, when you had to have a set of encyclopedias in order to find out information. Dave & I were so intent on learning things that we bought a set of 1976 (I think) World Book encyclopedias, figuring that at least the historical things wouldn't have changed much. Those dusty red books are still on our oak bookshelf downstairs.

But now, if I forget what country the 3 young American hikers were captured by when they inadvertently stepped over the border, I can look it up in 3.5 seconds (Iran, which Dave said but I seriously doubted. My vote was North Korea. I'm a dope sometimes.). If I wonder why the Dutch soccer team is called the Orangemen, I can look that up in 3.5 seconds, too (because it's the color of the royal family, who are decended from William of Orange). I'm pretty sure I could have found question #2 in our encyclopedias, but question one would have just continued to bug me.

So I'm grateful for google and the internet (and wireless connections, so I don't have to sit downstairs tethered to the PC if I don't wanna). But it does make me wonder a little about the effect of all this instantaneous information. We have developed really short attention spans, just in the space of my marriage (as my childhood was part of the dark ages, and my marriage began at the very beginnings of the computer age). Not that I'm implying causality with my marriage. Because that has required a long-term view. Especially for Dave. ;)

But the students I have now are very unmotivated to learn anything themselves. Why bother, they think, when they can just Google it when they get home? Why read a whole book, when you can look up chapter summaries and themes at cliffnotes.com? Why do anything yourself?

Obviously I believe there is intrinsic value to learning and knowledge (as opposed to finding information). That is actually a question that philosophers since Socrates have worked over, but it seems especially relevant today. (hmmmm. I need to google Socrates and make sure he wrote something about the value of education. Excuse me.)

a little bit of this, a little bit of that

2010-06-30T09:07:00.000-07:00

A post of random thoughts:

I finally put up the new curtains for the sliding glass door. They've been sitting on the couch and/or floor for almost the whole month of June. After 9 years, the deep red brocade-ish ones were getting nasty. Also sun-faded. I like the new curtains a lot, not the least of which because the idea I had in my head actually worked! See, I got 2 panels of solid (to block the sun's glare on those rare days that the sun glares) and 2 panels of sheer (to let in the light so I don't feel like I'm living in a cave), and then I put the sheers in the middle and the solids on the outside and now I can close it to look mostly solid or open it to look mostly sheer! I'm so proud. Really, that downstairs is starting to look snazzy, otherwise known as "not at all like Juli's house."

My tomato plants died while I was in Kentucky. I knew they probably would, because although Dave loves trees he doesn't even notice smaller plants. The combination of lack-of-watering and continuing frosts (seriously, there was a hard frost on June 18!) was too much for the tomatoes. But they are still sitting in their pots, in a vain attempt by their gardener to coax them back. I think I'm just going to have to find someone who doesn't kill their tomatoes, and "borrow" some.

I continue to be amazed at how quickly a day will go by. I intend to get suchandsuch done, and probably another thing or two, right after this chapter or that episode. Then I need a nap. Then it's practically time for Dave to come home. And the day is frittered away! And not like those yummy apple fritters that my dad used to bring home when he worked in the corporate offices of Winchell's, either.

Today is my parents' wedding anniversary. If they were still here, it would be their 49th. But they are celebrating in heaven this year. Marriage is a strange and wonderful institution. I love my husband very much, and he loves me, but a marriage is a tender & delicate balance that can be injured so so easily. So today I will try to remember that, and be a better wife. And think about my parents, and the things I learned from them. And be grateful that they stuck it out, and made it possible for my great childhood and for me to be me (even though "me" isn't very far on the continuum of perfection, I'm still grateful for the chance to try).

That is all the random thoughts. For now.

proof positive

2010-06-07T19:37:00.000-07:00

The before-referenced tomato plant and lovely lavendar irises.

Note the freshly turned dirt around the iris; that's where I pulled the grass. and guess what? I also have some pretty purple iris that came out right next to the lovely lavendars! woot woot! Possibly it will stop raining some day, and I can take a picture of the pretty purples, too. I know you were hoping for that.

Memorial Day is lovely

2010-05-31T12:24:00.000-07:00

Last week we hosted Andy & Monica. That was nice, because I was feeling lonesome when Andy called on Saturday at 12:15 and asked if they could come up. They did, and we fed them and hosted them and it was great to see them.

This week we hosted Jesse & Catherine. That was also nice, because they could stay longer than just a night because it's Memorial Day weekend. In fact, they are still here as we speak. They are currently picking out a tent from Stricklan's Tent Emporium, which consists of 2 tents and a rain fly (which doesn't apparently belong to either tent but which would come in handy). I believe they have found a satisfactory one, which leaves one for the New Scouts Leader.

Catherine made us some scones. Not the bread-in-oil kind, which of course I adore, but the British, cake-like ones which I'm also very fond of. They were very good. I might even try to make some myself.

I planted my tomato plants in large pots right outside the sliding glass door. Perhaps that will be the magic ingredient I've been missing in years past. I also pulled some long grass out from the front planter, so now you can actually see the lovely lavendar irises that just came out today. Picture will follow. I just realized that maybe you'd like to see them.

I still have to clean out my room, but I'm almost done for the summer. Also there are a few more grades to enter. But then I'm really done for the summer. Put a fork in me.

tomayto, tomahto

2010-05-15T20:51:00.000-07:00

So this year we're going to try tomatoes in containers on the deck. I have had a hecka time growing tomatoes pretty much always. But I really like them. So maybe if I keep them close to me, and un-full of weeds, and warmer (cause the deck is always warm in the summer), it'll work. They'll grow AND ripen (I usually can only get them to grow). And I'll live on BLTs in August or so.

Dave brought me home 2 huge plants from the college nursery, so now all I have to do is find the appropriate container and fill it with magic soil and then wait. Oh, and I have to water them. I know that.

there's tired and then there's tired

2010-04-29T20:28:00.000-07:00

Melissa complained on one of her blogs that pregnant tired is completely different than regular tired, and that someone should have warned her. So I am hereby warning ya'll--getting old tired is different than youngster tired. I'm tired by 9 p.m. at night. Wiped. Beat. So I try to get in bed and go to sleep--but around 4 a.m., my body says "ouch. not that position again. ugh. back hurts. hip hurts. but don't get up! I'm still tired." This can go on for several more hours, but finally the point will be reached when the agony of staying in bed overwhelms the tired that still dwells within, and I get up. But I'm not happy about it. And I'm not particularly rested, although after a bit of being upright I start to feel better. After pounding down a diet coke or two, I can even bring myself to speak to people. But what I really want is a nap. Every day. And I can't really figure out how to get one at school, seeing as how the students would probably stick things in my ears or lock me out of the room. At best. So I drag my tired body home and start the whole sad cycle over again.

So don't say you weren't warned. Maybe it'll be better for you. I hope so.

musing

2010-04-26T19:21:00.000-07:00

Dave has a couple of "toss off" lines that he repeats when someone asks how he is. One is "Happy as heck. It's a gift." If you ask him what he's been doing, he might say "Fighting crime and supressing evil." (that's one of my favorites) He also might say "Living the dream in Rexburg." or "It doesn't get any better than this." or "Changing lives, one student at a time."

This last one is dear to my heart. I have some strengths as a teacher, and I have some weaknesses. But one thing I'm very happy about is that sometimes, I really do change someone's life for the better. Usually it's not any one thing I have said or done; rarely am I that prescient or eloquent. But if I can "get" a kid for an extended period of time, sometimes I can have a positive effect on them and change the direction of their life for the better. I think I average one per year. Hopefully, I'm not ruining one per year, so I end up ahead. Or rather, I'm not ahead at all, but the kids are. In 11 years, that's 11 students who have had a positive experience with school at a time when maybe they weren't having any other positive experiences. And maybe that positive association will give them enough oomph to get through school and into a productive role in society. I sincerely hope so. If they pick up a book for something other than to throw at a spider, so much the better!

in which the author begs forgiveness

2010-04-05T19:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry about that, February and March. I didn't mean to completely ignore you. It's just that there was so much going on! We listed my mom's house, got 5 offers in a week, accepted one, drove to California for Andy's wedding, drove home, got called as Relief Society President, collapsed into a puddle of goo, finished a trimester, began a new one, drove to Utah to help pack stuff, drove home, drove to Utah to finish packing stuff, drove home, closed on my mom's house . . . you see the problem here. My blogging career went completely out the window. But I'm ready to resuscitate it. I even changed the look of my blog, and added the two new wedding pictures to prove I'm not just making all this up. April will be better! (except the part about how it keeps snowing) (but I'm just ignoring that)

January's column in the Post Register

2010-01-26T18:42:00.000-08:00

copy & pasted here because Jesse said it would be appreciated

Providing an equal and appropriate education to its citizens is a responsibility enumerated in both the Idaho state constitution and the U.S. Constitution, and was considered by many of the so-called Founding Fathers key to the continuance of the Republic. Granted, at the time of the Constitutional Convention they didn’t really want to educate everyone—just the free white men—but they wrote the language in such a way that as people became more enlightened, the justification for educating everyone was available.

Since education is not a business to be run by the state but a constitutional right mediated by the state, it’s logical that a large portion of the state’s income will be devoted to education. Benjamin Franklin is quoted as saying, “The only thing more expensive than education is ignorance,” which echoes what Thomas Jefferson wrote in 1818: “If the children are untaught, their ignorance and vices will in future life cost us much dearer in their consequences than it would have done in their correction by a good education.”

It is a common conceit that education should be treated like any well-managed business. The flaw in that logic is that education is not a business. When times are good, businesses see large profits, and when times are bad, businesses suffer cuts or have to close down altogether. Education, which generates no tangible profits except an educated citizenry in either good or bad times, remains fairly steady in its basic needs: 1) teachers and administrators need to be paid a reasonable amount to perform this public service, and 2) it takes a certain amount of money per child to provide adequate technology, textbooks, and physical space for a proper education.

While it is possible to reach the point of diminishing returns in each of these areas, the State of Idaho as a whole hasn’t even approached the point of over-indulgence of education stakeholders.

And the imperative for education continues after a student graduates from high school. Corporations and entrepreneurs alike tend to locate in places with high concentrations of educated people. But increasing tuition and discontinuing programs at our universities—not to mention the lack of a community college system—make it very difficult for Idaho’s youth to further their education. We have one of the lowest levels of college attendance in the country.

The answer is not to cut educational funding an additional 25%. A proper function of the state is to ensure an equal and appropriate education to its citizens. Shifting education funding back to the property tax is a start. Raising sales tax a penny is another possibility. Properly educating citizens isn’t inexpensive, but it’s not a luxury, either. It’s vital for the future.

bacon, eggs, ham, omelets, pancakes, hash browns--you name it & I like it!

2010-01-18T17:23:00.001-08:00

What do you eat for breakfast? I have a hard time eating anything when I first wake, but if I don't eat something I pay for it with headaches and/or blood sugar dizziness. So I try to find something that won't make me gag, and eat it as soon as I've got a little Diet Coke in me. A different, though related problem I have is that nothing looks good first thing in the morning, so I often decide to skip lunch and leave the house without bringing any lunch item with me. At 7:00 a.m. this seems like a perfectly fine idea, but at 12:26 p.m., when the lunch bell rings, it seems like a perfectly idiotic idea.

I like Corn Chex, but on work days cereal doesn't work because I don't budget my time for a 10 minute sit down and eat (I stay in bed until the last possible second, shower and dress with my eyes closed, try to find something to eat, and race out the door). Plus, I need a little protein with my carbs or I'm hungry again in 45 minutes, so on Corn Chex days I also have a slice of toast with peanut butter on it. More time wasted.

In theory, yogurt could work because I can carry it with me and eat it at school after I've completely woken up (i.e. downed a can of the aforementioned DC). Plus, it's a proteinized food item. But it doesn't seem like a meal to me, so I end up scrounging for something more from the stockpile in my file cabinet (and candy or saltines for breakfast seems to miss the point, too).

Sometimes I'll cook an egg in the microwave and make an egg sandwich (ala McDonalds), but although I like eggs quite a bit, that can gag me if I try to eat it too soon--and cold egg sandwich isn't great. Unless it's chopped up and mixed with a little mayo into egg salad, at which time it's pretty darn good.

I really like breakfast food, but like I said before, there's no way I'm getting up early enough to make actual food. On non-work days, or during the summer, sometimes I'll make pancakes and bacon or something like that. When the kids were little, sometimes we'd have breakfast for dinner. That was usually a hit. But I digress (surprise!).

If I had a personal chef, I'd eat a breakfast burrito most days, I think. Eggs, bacon, and potatoes wrapped in a warm tortilla. Maybe a few tomatoes chopped up in there. mmmmmm.

Since that's not gonna happen, I guess I'll stick with my current, slightly dissatisfying breakfasts. But I'm keeping my options (and ears) open for alternatives.

One--singular sensation

2010-01-12T20:09:00.000-08:00

I know I'd pay to see that chorus line kick. Technically, I already have! (over and over) but I would pay again. xxooMom

I do not wonder about winter

2010-01-05T19:26:00.000-08:00

This is outside my window. Well, not exactly outside the window, but close outside after you open the door and look out. It is winter in Idaho, although you can see by the depth or lack thereof of snow that it's been pretty mild thus far. I don't really like winter, but I don't mind a good blizzard or two--as long as I don't have to go out in it. Otherwise, snow is good for the mountains.

Only 3 1/2 more months of winter here. Or four.

sigh.

on Boxing Day, we got a new Stricklan!

2009-12-30T19:10:00.000-08:00

I forgot that in Blogger, pictures come in on top of each other, not in the order you added them. But I think you can see that:

1) Catherine Stricklan nee' Sebright should have eaten breakfast that morning

2) all the men involved in this occasion are extraordinarily handsome

3) the mothers got along swimmingly

4) and Jesse & Catherine were very happy!

As were we all. It was a blessed day.

this was my December column in the Post Register

2009-12-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

My mom died suddenly last week, after a long battle with multiple sclerosis and a short illness. She had been a widow for four years and exactly one week when she passed, so the family home is now part of the estate I have to administer.

Mom had a little refrigerator in her room, so on the days she didn’t feel well enough to begin the 20 minutes effort to scoot out of her bed and into her Jazzy, she could still get a yogurt or some juice to tide her over until someone could check on her. When we got home from the hospital, we all gravitated to Mom’s room, sitting on the edge of her bed or walking around the room and talking about memories of her life. One of my sisters opened the mini-fridge and found an unopened quart jar of peaches that I had canned last summer. It was a bottle of golden sunshine in a dark day.

I bottled several lugs of peaches this summer in penance for not growing a garden (well, it made sense to me at the time). I didn’t come from a background of gardeners and canners—it is a skill I learned after my marriage—so my family has always treated the results of those labors as borderline magical. Mom especially hoarded the peaches and only doled them out to others grudgingly. The quart hidden in her mini-fridge was the last of the ones I had brought down this fall. Apparently it was being guarded against pilfering by other hungry family members in the safest place she could think of, saved until the day was right to eat it. That day never came for her.

The peaches were symbolic of my love, evidence of my self-sufficiency, and just plain good to eat. I think I understand why mom didn’t want to eat them right away, but it was a little sad that she didn’t eat them while she could.

The peaches could also represent lost chances, or good intentions. I always intended to call more often, but life is often so busy that days could go by without a call from me. Additionally, I had several questions for my mom about her life that I was saving for when she came for a hopefully permanent visit in January. Now that it is obvious that I saved them too long, I’m looking around for other “peaches” I have stuck in the mini-frig of my life. Maybe I should enjoy them now, and not wait for a mythical “just right” time.

Although my siblings and I laughed a little at mom’s stash of peaches, I think we learned something from them, too.

the first Christmas party of the season

2009-12-04T19:17:00.000-08:00

Monica and I went to the ward Christmas party. Dave declined to accompany us. If I had pouted prettily, I could probably have made him come, but it was okay because Monica kept me company. The party was supposed to be a pancake dinner, but by the time we got there (we were only about 15 minutes late) it was all gone. Dang kids eat fast, I guess. And there were a lot of families with little kids in tow. Several of the Primary kids were dressed as angels, but they didn't fool me--I knew they weren't really angels. Each auxiliary group sang a carol (the Primary sang 2) (I ended up singing 2, because the Relief Society sang after the YW, and they snagged me on the steps) (the Primary kids were cuter than I was). Monica and I came home before Santa arrived. It was a good party, but it would have been better if I still had little kids at home. Maybe next year. Or the one after that.

My report on chinchilli

2009-11-21T20:07:00.000-08:00

This is Andy and Monica and Chili the chinchilla. Monica loves him (Chili) (also Andy). I am mildly fond of him. He chews things, but they are mostly Monica's things so it's not that big of a deal. So far, he's chewed scripture covers, 2 phone chargers, and he keeps trying to get a bite of Monica's Flyleaf poster but she foils him every time (so far). I think there's more chewing damage, but that's all that comes to mind right now.

Chinchillas are weird creatures: a cross of a rabbit, a squirrel, and a mouse. They have very soft fur. They can jump down 6 steps, or up a dresser drawers. They eat hay and chinchilla food pellets, and Chili at least likes raisins. And leather scripture covers. :)

I had never seen a chinchilla before Monica came to stay with us. I doubt I'll see one again after January or so except when I'm visiting Andy & Monica. That's okay with me.

what a difference 28 years makes

2009-11-14T12:56:00.000-08:00

This is Dave and Juli in 1981. Above that is Dave and Juli in 2009. That would be 28 years, for those of you keeping score at home. Sheesh. I don't feel different inside, but the evidence would indicate that I am, in fact, somewhat different on the outside.

Happy Anniversary, honey. At least you still look the same. xxoo

this is what we did on Halloween

2009-11-08T19:09:00.000-08:00

time's a wastin'

2009-11-05T19:10:00.000-08:00

oh dear. oh dear oh dear. I went almost the whole month of October without posting anything. What happened? Where did I go? Who did I hang out with and eat cheeseburgers with? Who made us carve pumpkins, even though it was clear til Halloween day before we did it? Why are those pumpkins still on the stairs? When will I ever go through the house and clean up the dirty dust from when Todd drilled out the cement in the downstairs bathroom so we could pour more cement and get it ready for grandma? Will I get Jesse & Catherine's quilt on the quilt frame? Will I buy material for Andy & Monica's quilt? Can I possibly get all this done in the allotted time?

I am full of questions, and not many answers. But, as I have been told over and over, writers write. So I shall endeavor to persevere and muddle through this conundrum. (that's as many big words strung together as I can do without snickering) (and even then, I snickered).

xxoo

if there's a problem with homemade breadsticks, it is this

2009-10-04T17:52:00.000-07:00

I made bread sticks today. I've had the recipe sitting on the counter for at least a month (probably two) because it looked so easy. And of course, it was. I like bread, but because I live with a man who eats like a rabbit now, I don't often get through a whole loaf of bread before it grows fuzzy green circular things. But I thought maybe breadsticks I could handle--throw a bag into the freezer and take a couple out for lunch, etc. The recipe made 36, probably more like 46 but I ate quite a few while deciding if the recipe worked. ;) That is going to be the problem with breadsticks: it'll be pretty darn easy to eat a loaf of bread, one little tiny stick of bread at a time.

p.s. I haven't made the apples yet. The Cougars did beat the Aggies, but I was too lazy to peel apples. But they're sitting there on the counter, waiting. If I follow the same timeline as with the breadsticks, only 6 more weeks before I actually do it. . .

appo, appo, appo

2009-10-02T08:24:00.001-07:00

Gonna can me some apples today. We got a whole bag from our trees, and Dave picked two more bags at the university orchard. I tried it last year, and we liked it, so tonight while watching BYU thump USU in football, I'll be skinning and cooking and then canning apples. Dave will probably help. He usually does. And should, since he is the major consumer.

The title of this blog comes from our very own Melissa Marie, who, while teething as a slightly-more-than-one year old, would chew on a single apple core for hours. If you tried to take it away, even to give her a fresh apple core, you were likely to hear a fierce outcry of "appo, appo, appo!" which meant "give it back now and no one gets hurt." And believe me, we believed her. ;)

Killing me but probably quite loudly

2009-09-28T08:19:00.001-07:00

I just read (online of course, since I'm back in Rexburg) that The Killers were playing at the E Center Saturday night. No one told me! Not like I could have dragged Dave there, but still. If I'd known, I could have chosen not to go, rather than been oblivious to the possibility. sigh. I love The Killers. I'm probably not their demographic, though, especially at concerts. So it's just as well, neh?

quick trip to high heaven

2009-09-27T19:49:00.000-07:00

We went to Utah on Friday and came back tonight. We saw a football game (go Cougars! beat the Utes!)(in November, but it's never too early to practice saying it), my mom, my sister Sherri, Jesse and his Catherine, Andy and his Monica, and then we stole Monica and high-tailed it back to Rexburg. Well, we didn't exactly steal her--she came willingly, and Andy packed her stuff into our car. But she did come back with us!

The current plan is that she will live with us for "a bit" and try to find a job, and then when she and Andy decide on a wedding date they'll get married and live for "a bit" in Rexburg, which will work out because Monica will already have a job here. Maybe November, maybe December, maybe still April. . . it's all "a bit" up in the air. Good thing I'm flexible, or that could make me "a bit" crazy! Like I need the help!

And I need to start making a wedding quilt, or two. Good luck, Juli. Thank you, Juli.

I should eat more carrots

2009-09-24T10:43:00.000-07:00

Well there's good news and not as good news. The good news is that my eyes' focusing muscles are much better than typical, seeing as how I'm 47.5 years old and only now are having focusing problems. Oh, that's the not-as-good news. I went to the eye doctor today and he said I need reading glasses, and probably should count on bifocals pretty soon. sheesh. Pretty soon I'm going to be wearing beaded glasses holders so I don't lose my reading glasses. Next is dying my hair blue so people don't notice it's really white.

search, ponder, and then ponder some more

2009-09-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

I tried to teach the Mia Maids about pondering tonight. It all went wrong, but in the end it was okay, too. I have 9 girls, but on a typical Tuesday only 4 or 5 come. I was hoping for the low end, so I could send Nori home. No one with a key came to the church until 7:05, and at that time I only had 3 girls. Go on home, Nori. I know you're busy. Then Carly came--but I thought "I can fit 4 into my Sonata." Except that the back seatbelt was stuck behind the seat and we struggled with it long enough that Bayley showed up! At 7:25! (If we hadn't been fighting the seat belt, we'd have been long gone and she'd have been all alone). sigh.

So I abandoned the original idea, which was to take the girls up to the temple grounds for 20 minutes of silence, and we settled on 20 minutes of silence in the chapel. I gave them each a piece of paper and pencil, and told them to concentrate on pondering. No talking. We had a good 15 minutes of pondering time before the deacons exploded into the gym. I gathered the girls into the sitting area, and we debriefed. We agreed that it wasn't enough to have silence to properly ponder--you also have to focus your mind on something intentionally. One of the girls drew pictures. And one of them came up with lyrics to a song about pondering, and they were awesome!

So, although it didn't turn out like I hoped, it turned out like I hoped. Yay!

must learn how to control the power

2009-09-18T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have powers. You know how earlier, in what passes for spring here, if I rode my bike it would rain for 4 days? Well, the power has morphed. Now, if I leave school on one day, and say "I'll come back for that work to grade later," and then get a barfing migraine, and then say to myself "no worries, I'll just go into school and get that work on Saturday when I feel better," I can get the whole school shut down with no electricity and water. And my key won't work. So the email memo from my principal says. Of course, if I'd gone in today like a healthy worker, this problem would have been averted entirely (the shutdown starts tonight). So I blame my powers. And wait for Monday, I guess.

true that

2009-09-14T19:08:00.000-07:00

The promised journalism quote:

Journalism is powerful precisely because it does not seek power. It seeks the truth.

Truth is the highest power. The Holy Ghost testifies of truth. Truth never changes. When I say that truth is the highest power, I don't know if that's exactly right. Truth isn't really power in the crashing waves kind of power. Truth is the kind of power that can withstand crashing waves.

I can't find where I hid the President Obama quote. When I find it again, I'll post that, too.

a whole lot of nothing

2009-09-09T20:17:00.000-07:00

I pulled the most wonderful quote about journalism from an article I was reading in The Atlantic online, and then left it at school. heavy sigh. I'll bring it home tomorrow and post it. It was cool. Also, a quote from President Obama's talk to the little schoolchildren, about choosing to do good things. So you have things to look forward to, tomorrow.

a boring post about what we did

2009-09-06T17:21:00.000-07:00

Melissa & Nate arrived first, but Jesse & Catherine eventually made it, too. Friday night, my house filled up a bit, which always makes me sleep better. Saturday morning we got up early, well early for a Saturday (it was 7:05 a.m., if you're curious. it was supposed to be 7 but I was tired). Jesse & Catherine & Nate made sandwiches (we only had pb & honey or pb & jam, since Dave and I have given up eating food and there's little to no lunchmeat in the house), we collected all the granola bars in the house (there was a surprising number of those, mostly high fiber but also a nutrigrain or two), we found the 2 apples hiding in the veggie bin, and filled water bottles. Dave showed the kids the pictures he had taken of the homeplace a few years ago, and a little about how it had seriously deteriorated from the well-kept yard of his memory. Then it was off, in two cars because we have no vehicle large enough for a group any more, to Ram's Horn Canyon, which is located just east of Darlington, where Dave spent the first 5 years of his life. He can remember looking up that canyon from the house, and wanted to go on a look-see.

We parked my car at the entrance to the dirt road, which was behind a BLM fence, and four wheel drived it up to the trail head--young people in the truck bed. It was 3.8 bumpy miles, if you are taking notes, but I'm sure it felt longer to those in the back. Ram's Horn Canyon is up a slot in the Big Lost Range. The young un's took off, and Dave very kindly stayed with me. I had to count steps for awhile there--I stopped to breath every 50 steps or so while the terrain was steep (ridiculous, no? but it got me aways up the mountain so . . .). Eventually it leveled out and I was able to walk continuously. Dave was taking baby steps, so as not to leave me in the dust. Bless his heart, he was determined to stay with me, even though I kept telling him to go ahead (save yourself!). After about 45 minutes, I could tell I was nearing the end of my effectiveness and we sat on some rocks, under huge Douglas Fir and not far from a squirrel's midden. I could see the black tail of the squirrel as it scampered back and forth up a little crease in the side of the mountain. You could hear the birds calling back and forth, feel the cool breeze, see the blue sky and the gathering clouds. It was very peaceful. We eventually walked slowly back to the pickup to await the kids; I made it past all the steep places before taking too large a step and slipping down when we were nearly there. But no injury, really, just a little skin off my right palm. The kids weren't too far behind us, and we ate the sandwiches and drank the water before heading back down to the car.

Jesse, Catherine, Melissa, & Nate were satisfyingly dusty, and I was proud I'd made it as far as I had (I guess it wasn't very far, but it felt far!). Dave was glad to see his country again. And to top it all off, BYU then beat Oklahoma in a nationally televised football game. It was a good day!

so what did YOU do with your Thursday night?

2009-08-27T21:45:00.000-07:00

Dave & I packed 14 of these babies tonight. Dave had to go buy more sugar (you don't want to know how much sugar is in a light syrup for peaches). My feet and back hurt, but we're going to do it again tomorrow. It's my penance for not having a garden this year.

the power of imagination

2009-08-22T10:30:00.001-07:00

I imagined myself getting up and dressed in work clothes and going outside and plucking the monster weeds. This morning, that's what I did. Some of those suckers next to the house were up to my belly button! That's embarrassing. But now it's all safely in the trash can, waiting to go infect the landfill with weedseeds. Now the only embarrassing thing is the 2 foot high grass in my flower beds. . .

2 good 2 be 4gotten

2009-08-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

Back to school. New clothes, new haircut (but not yet, because my stylist friend fell down and hurt herself and now my Tuesday afternoon haircut will have to be re-scheduled), new students, new preps, new desk arrangements. Yep, it's time to begin the cycle. After an invigorating day of meetings with the district (morning) and school principals (afternoon), tomorrow I get to finish getting my room and self ready. Students in seats Thursday morning bright and early (not really--we don't start class until 8:40, and I don't have to be there before 8:10, although I'm usually there by 7:45 or so). Goodbye summer. I have so enjoyed you. See you next year! Don't ever change!

Exciting news at chez Stricklan

2009-08-11T21:48:00.000-07:00

It's not my news. It's Andy's news. Well, Andy and Monica's news. Let's just say we should not plan anything for the end of April, beginning of May 2010. That should remain open on the calendar, although not really open, as it is probably closed. If you follow my meaning. If you don't follow my meaning, you really should ask Andy "what up?" I bet he'll tell you.

musing on music while sweating

2009-08-08T10:41:00.000-07:00

One good thing about 2-a-days is that I'm listening closely to music that I haven't taken the time to listen to for a while. I have rediscovered my love of: Coldplay's Viva La Vida (album), the new music Andy mixed for me (includes Eels, Muse, The Arcade Fire, Band of Horses, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, among others), American Hi-Fi, The Ataris' So Long Astoria (is this the best summer music album ever??), and the late, great Rexburg band National Holiday. Those guys were seriously good. I'm super glad they recorded; if you're wondering what my "kind" of music is, it's the stuff National Holiday did. Real guitar, real bass, real drums, thoughtful lyrics = Juli's music heaven. Alas, they broke up and went their grownup ways. But the music lives on, kids. The music lives on. ;)

huff puff & dripping sweat

2009-08-06T16:55:00.000-07:00

I got a bike (no gears) (none) for Christmas 2007 (I think). I really like it. It came with a bell, a horn, a barbie basket, and a lock. I still have the bell; the other stuff walked away. (??) Anyway.

I got some exercise clothes last fall.

I got new walking shoes in May (when Andy returned from his mission to California).

I got a new ipod Monday (my iPhone loses too much battery when I use it to play music. seriously. I have to charge it every day anyway; when I play music on it, it won't make it a full day.)

Monday was also the first day of Two a Days. To whit: I ride my bike in the morning (20 minutes, 238 calories), and I walk for 40 minutes in the evening (40 minutes, 250 calories).

I'm beat. And my body is not a fan. But I have bitten the bullet and I will see this through. Either I will prove my point--that my body doesn't respond to diet and exercise like normal bodies do--or my point will be wrong and I'll lose weight (this is a bad thing?). Probably the only time I'll be glad to be wrong. ;)

I don't want to brag, but

2009-08-03T18:28:00.001-07:00

I could eat 900 more calories today and still be in my "calorie budget." I'm just saying. And that includes two pieces of pizza!

The iPhone app called "Lose It!" is what tells me this fascinating information. It also tells me that I'm about 50 g too much on carbs for today, which I could have guessed without the fancy machinery. I don't know if I'll ever be able to keep it at 30 g of carb per meal.

But to get back on topic: 900 calories! I could eat a whole lot of crap and still be on track. Not that I'd do that.

Mo-lissa Mo-rie

2009-08-01T16:51:00.000-07:00

When she was a baby, I used to sing to her : Mo-lissa Mo-rie, Mo-lissa Mo-rie, We're all glad to see, Mo-lissa Mo-rie.

I had a little song to sing to each little one, usually to help me calm them down and remind me how much I loved them when they weren't fussy/up at 2 a.m. It usually worked better on me than on the fussy child. ;)

A quarter of a century ago, in the tiny hospital in Arco, Idaho, Melissa Marie Peterson (nee Stricklan) was born. She was sucking her fingers approximately 2 minutes after arriving in the world, a habit that continued for the next 14 or so years. I had her at 1 p.m. and went back to our little apartment at 7 p.m. I was very tired, but Dave and my 14 year old sister Sherri tried to be as helpful as possible. We didn't have much money, and I wasn't going to spend it on a hospital bed. I remember watching the Olympics during the late night feedings. It was kinda fun, although as I look back, I was always tired. Did I mention I was tired??

Melissa wasn't particularly happy until she could talk and walk--after that, she was delightful! She had a scratchy little voice, and an impish face. I always think her grouchy baby-ness was because she just wanted to communicate, and it made her mad that she wasn't able to tell us what she wanted. Once she could talk, she was hilarious.

Most of our pictures of Melissa when she was little are with Jocelyn; I just wasn't going to take 2 pictures when 1 would do. I'm glad now that they had each other growing up (although I should have taken individual pictures so they'd be able to have a scrapbook page without anyone else on it!).

Melissa is a delightful daughter, supportive sister, and wonderful wife. She helps me sort through the clutter, and loves me anyway! Happy Birthday, Melissa!

xxooMom

keep those cards and letters coming

2009-07-30T16:56:00.000-07:00

Elder Timothy Stricklan
MTC Mailbox #235-0928
Mexico Tampico mission
2005 N 900 E
Provo, Utah 84604-1793

Just in case you wanted to drop Tim a line, this is his address until September 28. After that, he'll be in Mexico at an address I'll post closer to then.

Tim's morning before the empty C

2009-07-30T11:56:00.000-07:00

Getting his hair trimmed at the Wilkenson Center Barbershop (great cuts, cheap!), with dad in front of Grandma Webb's garage, and right before walking away (without looking back once) at the MTC.

I'm gonna miss that kid.

En famille

2009-07-24T12:38:00.000-07:00

Hi. This is the most recent picture of the Stricklan family. Notice that all the males are wearing white shirts. That was Dave's idea. Notice that the girls don't really match, but kinda do. That was nobody's idea. That nobody really comes through in the clutch. Sometimes.

missionaries come, missionaries go

2009-07-22T09:14:00.001-07:00

This picture was taken when Andy came home from his mission to Riverside California. It's my background right now. I like it for a lot of reasons.

Next Wednesday, Tim will be leaving us for Tampico Mexico. Well, technically he'll be in the MTC for a bit, but he's gone gone gone. No more witty (or supposed to be witty) texts or comments on my blog. No more tall person to change light bulbs or put up Christmas lights. No more only-person-willing-to-go-into-the-dungeon. No more partners in crime to eat junk food with, especially now that Dave has lost weight and changed his lifestyle (not that he was particularly fond of junk food before, either). sigh.

I am excited for the weekly testimony boosts, aka letter from a missionary. I'm excited that he's well-prepared and highly enthusiastic about the challenges ahead of him. I'm excited to see the man he will become.

I have really got to get a life going, because my old life as mother and chief caretaker is pretty much shot to heck. Just like I always planned!

here and there

2009-07-12T17:32:00.000-07:00

I have been home for two weeks. You'd think I could have updated my doings on my blog. You would think wrong. (wrongly? thinking is, after all, a verb. . .)

In the intervening days I have done laundry, sorted through mounds of mail, put newspapers in the recycling bin, cleaned, entertained Jesse & Catherine (well, I don't know if they were entertained, but they were here), read over 1500 pages (a new series that I started last Monday and finished last Thursday), pulled some weeds, written an essay, began an outline for my novel (Dave seems to think I need a structure), driven to and from Utah twice (once to pick up my "new" car from Evelyn, once to visit my mom and sisters), and I'm sure a whole lot of other entirely educational and wholesome things.

I leave again on Wednesday, this time for the Advanced Placement National Conference in San Antonio. But I'll be back on Sunday, so don't hyperventilate. geez.

Home is where the heart is

2009-06-25T13:35:00.000-07:00

I have had such a good time at the Reynolds Institute for high school journalism teachers. But it's time to go home. Have you ever noticed that? Things that you know you like tend to lose their savor after a period of time. That's why they came up with the phrase "houseguests are like leftovers--they should be thrown out after 3 days." (which, by the way, seems a little hasty to me; I'd wait at least 4 days.)

Phoenix has been very cooperative while I've been here; there was only one or two days out of the 12 I have been here that were "typical" temperature-wise. It is still very hot, just not extraordinarily hot.

Did you know that people who live in Phoenix call themselves "Phoenicians" according to one of the people we interviewed on the street (while learning about video journalism).

I have washed my underwear in the bathtub. I have fluffed the hotel pillows over and over. I have cheerfully put up with the scanty offerings at meal times. I have sat in a chair for hours at a time, taking notes on topics both of the obscure and the applicable. I have met people I was amused by and people I was annoyed by. I am ready to go home. NOW.

it's not really oven-like yet

2009-06-16T12:52:00.001-07:00

I'm in Phoenix and it's not that hot. I mean, it's in the 90s, but that's not so bad. I am learning a lot of things about journalism, which was the point of this exercise, and grabbing ideas left and right (although we were cautioned about the use of cliches, imagine me literally taking things from the teacher on my left and on my right, and that is the image I am soliciting here). I think newspaper class will be so much more informative and interesting and just plain good next year! Yay for the Reynolds Institute, and the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication! Yay for Steve Elliott! By this time next week, I'm going be really tired of all of this, so I'm writing this now to refer to then.

TTFN

woe is me

2009-06-12T09:34:00.000-07:00

I have been setting things aside to pack for my Adventure in the Oven (aka Phoenix in June) and have come to the conclusion that I have too many things. Especially looking the way I do. I should just have a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt until I lose several dozen pounds. But no, I have capris and jeans and button up tops to go with and at least 4 pair of shoes that I couldn't possibly do without. I am not a material girl, by the way. But I don't see how I'm going to get all that stuff I "need" into one suitcase, even though I went to DI and bought a perfectly lovely plum hardcase suitcase for only $10. There's no way. I'm going to have to break out the Hawaiian Duffle Bag of Doom (from Lands End, big enough to pack a medium sized child or small adult into). At least that way I'll have room to bring back any books or whatall they give us at the institute.

Or maybe I could downsize the shoes. . .

nah.

brought to you by the letter k

2009-06-09T16:10:00.000-07:00

How to Make a Kite Out of a Plastic Bag

from wikiHow - The How to Manual That You Can Edit

As much fun as it is to fly a kite, it's even better when you're flying a kite that you made yourself. With this simple kite-building method, you will be able to save some money on materials by recycling used plastic shopping bags. While very simple to make, a kite made from plastic will fly very high and you will get hours of entertainment from both making it and flying it.

Steps

Fold the plastic bag in half. Be sure it is flat, and even.
Cut out the kite shape. Cut off the bottom of the bag. Cut as closely to the base of the bag as possible, but be sure to cut off the bottom. Cut the bag in the middle. Cut from the base to the center of the plastic bag. Then cut a slanting cut that goes up to the folded part of the bag.
Open the bag out flat. You should have 2 irregular pentagons.
Cut a stick to the length (top to bottom) of the kite.
Tape the stick vertically to the center of the kite. Tape the top end (at the tip of the kite) first. Before you tape the bottom part, stretch the plastic a little and then tape the stick onto the bottom.
Tape another stick to the left, on a slanting position. Bend the stick carefully to make a bow. Tape the other end to the right. Keep the taping very tight.
Cut the extra plastic in strips and tie together. Make it 4 feet in length (see the photo). You could use different colors as shown here (red and white).
Tape the tail to the bottom. It depends on you what color should be taped at the bottom of the kite.
Use a pointed item to make a hole at the intersection where the two sticks meet, as well as at the bottom.
Cut a piece of string 1 foot (30 cm) in length. Push one end of the string to the intersecting sticks at the other side of the plastic. Tie firmly. Do the same with the other end. Now you have the "bridle".
Make a knot with a hole in the bridle on the same level as the intersection of the sticks. Check the alignment by pulling the string to one side to see if the knot is next to (not above or below) the intersection.
When you are outside, hold the bridle string between your thumb and finger, so that the kite tries to fly from your hand. Start in the middle of the bridle and gradually move your fingers up toward the intersection. At one point, the angle of attack will be right and the kite will fly best, so this is where you want to tie a loop into the bridle line. This loop needs to move up or down depending on the wind speed, so you have to adjust the location for each flying session.
Tie the rest of the string to the loop and fly it! To fly, simply throw the kite and pull the string as if you are fishing. Extend the string while doing this. You may need to give it some help to get into the air by running a little. If so, check that the ground ahead is free of obstacles as you are likely to be looking up as you do this and not concentrating on the ground!

Article provided by wikiHow, a wiki how-to manual. Please edit this article and find author credits at the original wikiHow article on How to Make a Kite Out of a Plastic Bag. All content on wikiHow can be shared under a Creative Commons license.

So, I'm thinking about making kites at Young Women's in a couple of weeks (after I return from Arizona -- planning ahead!). I think I'll make one, just to be sure it can be done. Thanks to Nate, who loves kites and by example gave me the idea for an activity!

sick has "ick" in it for a reason

2009-06-08T18:47:00.001-07:00

sick day. I'm not a big fan. I didn't have them much until the year I turned 41. Then I started having days here and there where I would become nauseous and vomit every half hour for 12 hours. not good. went to the doctor, who said "hey you're pre-diabetic, maybe this med will help," but it didn't, so the doctor said "hey, your thyroid is quitting, maybe this med will help," but it didn't, so the doctor said, "Hmmmm." so I got those other two meds, but the one problem that drove me to a doctor in the first place didn't get solved. finally, I noticed it was happening about once a month, and we agreed that it was probably related to hormones and peri-menopause. but since my mom had a hysterectomy in her early 40s, I had no way of knowing what is "typical" for my family. so I'm the guinea pig, I guess. except my sisters have had migraines and such all along, so my onset isn't really going to help them much. sorry girls.

anyway, back to today. I woke up okay (I don't feel good in the morning, period, so I don't judge whether I'm going to be sick by that). I ate breakfast okay. I realized I didn't feel great, so I hurried and finished my column that was due today, just in case. And by 10:30, I was sickabed. But I didn't throw up (I don't as much any more) and I was better by 3:30. So it's definitely slackening, but still. I don't like sick days. I'm not a fan.

old hair, new hair, red hair, blue hair

2009-06-04T11:02:00.001-07:00

I changed my hair. A bit. Not really though, except for the color. I rarely do, now that I know what looks okay on me.

in the brown is the new hair. I'm not mad, it just looks like it.

in the green is the old hair. I'm not really mad, it just looks like it. ;)

I'm trying to talk myself out of continual blondeness. Not airheadedness (that's a lost cause, which I accept gracefully), but out of the hair color of my youth. Truth be told, my hair color now is much closer to "new hair."

To me, the color change is huge. Does it look huge to you? I'm curious, as that's one of the ways I will be able to talk to myself about this ("now you don't look that different! except your eyes look bluer, which is a good thing."). You can't see my eyes in "old hair," but I've been told by a reliable source that my eyes are popping. (and not in a bad way)

this time of year, I'm like all the other students: ready to go!

2009-05-29T17:49:00.001-07:00

all done! yay, good girl! you finished all that hard work! now you get to sleep in and read and write and walk. probably ought to throw in some homemaking and maybe a quilt top in there, too.

a call to blogging genii for help

2009-05-23T19:28:00.000-07:00

So I'm going to this journalism teacher workshop in a couple of weeks. I'm supposed to learn how to embed both video and pictures onto blogs. I think I just hit the little buttons up there on the post-creating-box, right? How hard can it be? Also, I should learn how to embed a youtube. But fortunately I am surrounded by blogging fools who know all this stuff. Right guys? If I don't learn how to do it right, my imaginary grade in the non-graded continuing-education credits they're giving me at the workshop will be bad. So help me learn to do it right. I don't want to be the loser kid in the back who didn't come prepared. I want to be the slacker kid in the back who already knows how so when the teacher calls on her because he thinks she's not prepared, she can do it thisfast and go back to reading the comics. just kidding. sort of.

let's hear it for former students doing well!

2009-05-17T19:54:00.001-07:00

I went to hear Jakob Browning speak in church today. He did an excellent job. He is always worried about using the right English words now, since Spanish is still running circles around his brain, but he gave a well-constructed and delivered talk. I was proud of him. And I'm not even his momma, so imagine how proud she is!

Jakob is one of my former students. In some crazy stroke of luck, I seem to have been a positive influence on him. I'm glad for that. I'd hate it if all they remembered was that I was a nut job. :)

i don't think i want to know where the phrase "pipe dream" came from

2009-05-17T19:46:00.001-07:00

I went for a walk. Now I can't get that Brady Bunch classic hit out of my mind: "Think I'll Go For a Walk Outside Now, the sun keeps shining my way its a **neeny now, I just can't wait to get away, gotta get out gotta get some of those rays, everybody's singing Sunshine Day" repeat ad nauseum (**not the actual words, but I can't remember them). I think it's the BB. Anyway, I walked for a pre-determined number of minutes rather than mileage. I didn't get very far in 35 minutes. Maybe 2 miles but I don't think quite.

I promised Tim I'd walk at least twice a week. I told my doctor I'd exercise 5x a week. I keep wondering what it'd be like to have a strong body again, so I guess I'd better get at it. I want to be in 15-minute-mile-walking-shape by the end of the summer, and be able to touch my hands flat on the ground from a standing position as far as flexibility. The walking I'm pretty sure I can do; the flexibility may be a pipe dream.

The little update to my large life

2009-05-13T16:37:00.000-07:00

Andy is home. Tim is home. My house is re-filling up. This past weekend it was plumb full: both of the above-named boys, Mo & Nate & bro Justy, niece Alex and nephew Dylan, 4 out of 6 Leavitts, and a partridge in a pear tree. JK about the bird.

Monday the house felt strangely empty. But, the 2 boys are still here so it's okay. I'm not all alone again.

And I only have 11 more days of school. 10 if you consider that the last day doesn't really count. I think I can do it. I think I can, I think I can. choo choo.

Andy, candy, dandy, handy = all are good things

2009-05-03T17:31:00.000-07:00

Andy comes home in 2 days! 2 days until Andy comes home! All aboard the welcome-back train! woot woot!

Did I mention that Elder Andy-pants will be home in 2 days? 2:43 p.m. on Tuesday, the cinco de Mayo.

I've got to go clean his room and make space for him in the bathroom. I'm also going to buy new pillows for the single beds, which includes his.

I'm so excited!

If it's an allergy, it's the "spring is too cold" kind

2009-04-30T18:36:00.000-07:00

I do not have the swine flu. I'm pretty sure of that because a) I haven't recently been to Mexico (or ever, actually), b) no one I know has recently been to Mexico (although Tim was incommunicado for a few hours the other night so maybe . . .) and c) I don't have a fever and my body doesn't ache, exactly.

But I've not been comfortable in my body for the past 3 days. I'm tired, and feel like I'm moving through jello. It started on Tuesday night, when I suddenly had a sore throat and sloshing sinuses. The sore throat has disappated, but not the draggy feeling. With all the talk about swine flu taking over the world, I did run it through the "possible" meter in my brain, but it scored a "no way jose."

Just thought I'd share. Maybe I'm allergic to something? That scored a higher value on the "possible" meter.

Oh, and here's the lame joke my students were sharing today, which I should have found funny for its pun value but didn't: they used to say that we'd elect a black president when pigs fly, and now we elected Barack Obama and have the swine flu. (get it? swine flu is like pigs fly, ha ha ha)

I got a thank you letter for my contributions, too

2009-04-22T17:54:00.000-07:00

I donate $4 per month to the BYU College of Humanities. No, don't thank me. I know it's pretty unbelievable. But I have the $4 to spare, and some people don't. Anyway, that's not why I told you this. I was thinking about my education, and realize that college for me was waaayyy different than college for my children (except for my freshman year) (and I didn't learn how to play guitar my freshman year) (and I only skipped one or two classes a semester, not all of them) (but I digress) (what a shock). ah hem. Six of the eight years I was in college, I was married with children. Little children. I didn't stay up until 2 a.m. studying in the library, than join my chums for a slightly dopey walk home. I didn't have a job, after the first year, other than tending my own (and a couple of years, others') children. I do share the "so poor I think I might croak" feeling that I know they have sometimes despite my best efforts to supplement their bank accounts, but since I could share this feeling with Dave (and technically Jocelyn, Melissa, and Jesse, but not Andy because he was only 5 months old when I finally graduated), it was different, too. My higher education was strictly about classes. I think my children have had an education that was about "college." So far. And I'm glad. And if my large donation to the College of Humanities allows others to have things that help their college experience, too, so much the better.

repeat 100 times until the mad feeling goes away

2009-04-17T18:02:00.000-07:00

I love my husband. He is very nice to me. He always tells me how beautiful/sexy/pretty I am. I owe my wide-ranging knowledge at least in part to him, as his scientific yin complements my artsy-fartsy yang. He has supported me through several crazy jags: finishing my B.A. while mothering four infants (almost literally), actual crazy period in South Dakota, acting in a play in St. Anthony when we lived in Island Park, working for a sports radio station for minimum wage, and probably a couple of others I've blocked out. He has a job, and goes to it. He encourages me to write (note on my computer yesterday "Juli is a writer. Today she writes."). He says things like "When will they stop being surprised at the things you can do?" and "You are an amazing woman." And he means it, as nearly as I can tell. He is a terrific, vital source of support.

Which is why I should forgive him when he takes money from the wrong bank account, even though I've reminded him multiple times not to, and does the very thing I told him he had to wait for payday to do (which is buy a pickup load of potting soil). It SO could be worse. I am a lucky woman.

an important announcement

2009-04-11T11:13:00.000-07:00

We have made a big decision here at Stricklan central. It has some repercussions, but also some nice trade offs. The decision is: there will be no garden this year.

This decision was precipitated by the mister, but after some consideration and assuagement of guilt, I went along. Why do you garden? he asked. Because I should, was my honest answer. Not because you love the dirt and the vegetables? he probed. Hah! was my heartfelt response. So why don't we skip that this year? --Be...be...because! We're supposed to grow a garden! And last year for the first time it really looked good. --So you've proven you could do it? --well, yeah. --Oh. . . . (silence while I organized my thoughts). --I would feel guilty, but not as guilty as I did when I decided not to can peaches last year. --I really like peaches, he murmured. Me too, I thought. Much more than I like squash.

Okay, what if I commit to canning a bunch of peaches instead of gardening? --That sounds good to me. I could help (he always says this, and sometimes he does it).

So that's the trade off for 2009: no garden but a double batch of peaches to make up.

I'm kinda relieved. But also still kinda guiltified.

on birthdays and presents or the lack thereof

2009-04-07T19:38:00.000-07:00

Tim was visiting his grandma Webb and the aunts last week, and in honor of his birthday they had what he wanted for dinner and a cake. And gave him some presents. One of my sisters excitedly asked him what he got for his birthday, and he realized at that moment that not only hadn't he received any presents from his parents, he didn't really care that he hadn't received any. That's my boy! The aunt in question was shocked, appalled, and otherwise bamboozled that I hadn't Federal Expressed a present or 36 to him. Tim understood that a) I and his dad love him, and b) he'll get some presents from us when he gets home. or we'll pay for all his school stuff and his mission stuff. or, most likely, both!

My birthday is tomorrow. Although I want to know that I'm loved, I don't really want anything as far as presents. The things I'd like are too expensive for our current budget situation. And I'd really just like a nice dinner at Johnny Carinos. mmmm bowtie pasta. Melissa made and sent me an apron. That seems like enough.

I know that my extended family doesn't always understand this about me, but at least I'm consistent (and effectively taught it to my children): I don't measure love by things. Maybe a little bit by food :) but mostly by love. And love, in any economy, I have in spades. Thanks, all.

It's a birthday! It's your birthday! Happy Birthday darling!

2009-04-01T20:15:00.000-07:00

It wasn't really a joke, but it did make me smile on the way to the hospital in North Platte, Nebraska 19 years ago today. 87 miles from our rental house on the Nebraska National Forest in Halsey. I was having my fifth and certifiably last child, and since he was an utter and complete surprise, it was appropriate that he came on April Fools day. Then, it turned out that he wasn't the girl I'd been imagining. No Mary Kate Stricklan for us! April Fools again! ha ha are you laughing yet? But I could not be happier for my bouncing bundle of boy. Timothy Jay has brought happiness to our lives pretty much every day. Plus, he promises to take care of me and make me tacos and drive me around town when I'm old. Not that the others wouldn't do that, too, but Tim volunteers it without prompting. Plus, he puts up and takes down Christmas lights. Plus, he draws (paints, actually, with watercolors) a mean rainbow. Plus plus plus.

We love you Timothy Jay! We are proud of you, and although we'll miss you, we're really excited you're going to Tampico, Mexico to serve the Lord in only 120 days.

xxooMom & Dad

snow snow go away

2009-03-25T19:15:00.000-07:00

What is that white stuff all over my lawn and porch and driveway? Take it back! I don't like it.

where's Waldo?

2009-03-19T21:54:00.000-07:00

Tim is on his way home at this very minute. A big white envelope addressed to Elder Timothy Jay Stricklan is sitting on my counter. The envelope is not see-through, although I won't tell you how I know this. It is pretty late, but I'm staying up anyway. I'll let you know what I find out!

its another one of those days

2009-03-17T20:34:00.000-07:00

Oh, I do like when I don't have to wear a coat every time I step outside. It's technically still cold enough (on the other end, when summer is ending, I definitely wear a coat when it's 40 degrees), but it's so much warmer than the rest of winter that I forego. Coats, that is. If I still wore shorts, I'd wear shorts now, too. But the stinking Idaho wind cuts through mere cloth like there was nothing there; if there was nothing there, I'm afraid the wind would cut through to my bones. They're in there, heavily insulated but in there.

For the first time, I shared March 16 with someone not related to me. Gail's daughter died suddenly last March 14, leaving a 9 month old daughter for Gail to raise. Gigi has really helped temper Gail's grief, but she didn't want to be alone. She knew I regularly take that day, so I suggested we hang out together and she jumped. I hope it helped. It was a better day for sharing it with someone, but her grief is still new compared to my decade old pain. I hope it helped. She asked about how I memorialize Jos, and I showed her my locket, and class ring, and cartilage earring. As it turns out, I have lots of little things. If nothing else, I gave her some ideas! It was a nice day.

who knew that Jos had a sister-soul in Colorado?

2009-03-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

At my school today, we had a special assembly. It's called Rachel's Challenge. It is given all over the United States by people from a group formed by Rachel Clark's father. Our presenter was Rachel's uncle. Rachel Clark was one of the first people killed at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999. She tried to live by a code of ethics, which she wrote down in her journals and in a paper assigned by her English teacher. She felt that if you were kind to all those around you, you could start a chain reaction of kindness. She especially looked out for disabled people, new students, and those being picked on. Rachel's Challenge involves choosing to use kind words, setting goals (and writing them down), choosing to understand others (defeat prejudice), and two more things that I can't remember right now. It was a thought-provoking and inspiring assembly.

I cried throughout much of it, because this girl reminded me so much of Jocelyn. They were nearly the same age (Rachel was born in 1981), and died a month apart. Jocelyn, too, tried to be kind to everyone. We had former classmates write letters to tell us of times Jos had been kind to them or someone they witnessed. We didn't start a foundation to spread the word, but we had the material evidence to! Last March I wrote a column in the Post Register advocating that March be Kindness Month. And here it is, March again (funny how it repeats like that). The students were strongly affected by Rachel's story. I hope to see some change in them (not that they're currently unfeeling heathen, but change for the better is always good).

There's information about Rachel's Challenge at www.rachelschallenge.com if you're interested. Start a chain reaction of kindness, yo.

that's why the good guy in a western always stood up to the bad guy

2009-03-10T19:50:00.000-07:00

Rather than run and hide from things you don't like, stand up and face them. It finishes it once and for all, so you don't have to continually look over your shoulder or caller ID to see if they're gunning for you still.

That's the lesson I learned from my brave friend Chalise today. She stood up (well, first she hid, but then with only a little coaxing from me she stood!), and it wasn't as bad as she feared. As I mentioned to her multiple times in the days leading up to this day, if she gets fired some time it's not going to be for this. And, so far, I was right.

Then I followed her example and returned a phone call that's been just hanging out there and got splendid news: one of my loans is officially paid off! Huzzah! I couldn't have paid it off if I'd continued to ignore the phone.

So thanks, Chalise. I owe it all to you. And maybe John Wayne.

Friday is reason enough

2009-03-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

I didn't bring any work home tonight. Not a stitch. Not a piece. Not a whisper of a paper.

And you can see grass in places on our yard.

spring soon, spring soon

2009-03-01T19:10:00.000-08:00

I looked out the window and what did I see?
Not popcorn popping on the apricot tree, but close. Sun on old snow, melting that old snow right away. It was spring today, for the first time. At least, in my book. I always take the first chance to leave my coat in the car and pretend I don't need it, and today I really didn't need it to walk into church.

Now, don't go cautioning me about optimism--I know there's another snow storm out there with my name on it. But today was my reward for making it through another winter. Or at least, it promised a reward was coming.

Faster than a speeding SAD train!

2009-02-24T17:40:00.000-08:00

swarming, sticky but not sweet, swipe it away from my face, away! must move, must keep moving. don't want. don't want to move. feet, move! must move! binding my arms my brain, my heart. . . aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!

This is my closest verbal approximation to what happens to me in late winter. It's not just the approach of March and the anniversary of Jocelyn's death, although that surely doesn't help. It's the (apparently hereditary) sloth and depression and general malaise (stronger than ennui, but same ballpark).

This would be a better place than that other place. This is Vizcaya, just outside of Miami's downtown.

I try to keep myself moving, and in this place (although "this" changes, the need for it doesn't).