tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829588188797832122024-02-07T05:13:13.074-05:00Things That Make Me Say..."To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment" -Ralph Waldo EmersonDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.comBlogger234125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-57183711959321397162009-04-27T06:55:00.003-04:002009-04-27T07:07:16.050-04:00Folks, ya can't get swine flu from eating pork...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfWRpHEbIRI/AAAAAAAAAr4/r3PyyLVMtQM/s1600-h/pig.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 285px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfWRpHEbIRI/AAAAAAAAAr4/r3PyyLVMtQM/s320/pig.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329325869521117458" /></a><br />Ok - here's the thing... <a href="http://www.cdc.gov/swineflu/">Swine flu is a respiratory disease</a>. You have to be in close contact with an infected pig or person... by the time that pork-roll sandwich gets to you - it isn't breathing. So - those of you who eat pork and pork products may continue to do so without worrying about the swine flu. You can not get the swine flu from eating pork. That said, you may wish to look into the impact of the heavy use of antibiotics and hormones in the meat you eat... Just sayin'. <br /><br />Oh - and did you know that no one in the US has died from Swine Flu?? I think this is a lot of hype. Seriously. Wash your hands. Carry on. Oh - and don't go to Mexico... Duh.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-12328579745431804292009-04-26T19:21:00.002-04:002009-04-26T19:26:50.925-04:00Champagne<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfTtiiXYviI/AAAAAAAAArw/636cuVxhgxg/s1600-h/Other+-+Champagne+Popping.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfTtiiXYviI/AAAAAAAAArw/636cuVxhgxg/s320/Other+-+Champagne+Popping.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329145436682370594" /></a><br />It's been a while - I know. But I finally popped into the <a href="http://weekendwordsmith.blogspot.com/2009/04/97-champagne.html">Weekend Wordsmith</a> and decided to share my poem based on the prompt "Champagne". Hope you enjoy!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Champagne</span><br /><blockquote>I lift my glass<br />to toast the ordinary day.<br />The sights, the sounds, the opportunities,<br />The little things that go unnoticed - <br />A child's laughter, my favorite song on the radio,<br />The softness of the cat weaving through my ankles...<br /><br />The first perfect strawberry of the season, <br />The perfectly blended orange, purple sunset.<br />It would be a mistake to overlook the extraordinary <br />in the ordinary... So...<br />I lift my glass<br />to toast the ordinary day.<br /></blockquote>Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-28105245031574106102009-04-26T17:44:00.006-04:002009-04-26T18:39:23.290-04:00Isn't personal style meant to be personal?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfTg7T0RuwI/AAAAAAAAAro/3N9H8IhGTcU/s1600-h/personal-brand.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SfTg7T0RuwI/AAAAAAAAAro/3N9H8IhGTcU/s320/personal-brand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329131568622582530" /></a><br />PERSONAL: of, affecting, or belonging to a particular person <span style="font-weight:bold;">rather than to anyone else<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>.<br /><br />I don't know about you, but I am the sole decision-maker when it comes to my style. All of my style. My hair, my clothing, how much cleavage I show on a given day, which shoes to wear, how many earrings I wear in my ears, which color socks I want to wear with my blue suede shoes, what perfume to wear and if I get a nose ring or not. I decide because I am an adult. I must now base my decisions on appropriateness for a classroom on the days I will be IN a classroom, but apart from that I can not think of one person who gets a vote on my personal style other than, of course, me. Because it is MY personal style. <br /><br />"But what about Ron?" you may ask... fair question - and here's the thing. I love Ron and I respect his opinion. But just because he is my husband does not give him a vote in my personal style. I like to think that he loves me for me, my personal style being a reflection of me. This means that if I decide to re-pierce my belly button (I had to remove it when I was pregnant), I fully expect that he will embrace that decision. If I suddenly decide that purple hair would be fun this summer, he must accept that. If he doesn't - well - that is indeed unfortunate and I truly hope he can find a way to adjust.<br /><br />Look - when Ron started talking about shaving his head I was a little "OMG - what would THAT be like?" but I smiled and I said "Baby - you need to do what you feel is best for you." and eventually, after probably 18 months of personal deliberation, he shaved his head. And now I say "Good call, Love! You look hot." You know why he looks hot? Because he is confident, because he made a decision that was based on HIS needs and in his time. It is his personal style. He owns it. <br /><br />Personal style... yours alone, or must you share? What say you, my bloggy and FB friends?Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-42904849225104362362009-04-25T19:03:00.004-04:002009-04-25T19:16:13.252-04:00Living Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSEha1jwAX-Oii3pciE25g-zh_erAcNstoeoF9NaDKpRp7dIkqd0Wfy5t5Ib13WKPgyvLkZlmBkXuG18WfD68XSt8YfytxTWcNcU6yAap6ljZww_5mUEyE0ajNSvM50ekPQjL9SiEBZM/s1600-h/DSCN0002.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSEha1jwAX-Oii3pciE25g-zh_erAcNstoeoF9NaDKpRp7dIkqd0Wfy5t5Ib13WKPgyvLkZlmBkXuG18WfD68XSt8YfytxTWcNcU6yAap6ljZww_5mUEyE0ajNSvM50ekPQjL9SiEBZM/s320/DSCN0002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328769652143105298" /></a><br />I said good-bye forever to a dear dear friend yesterday. My heart is too sore to write something fitting for my sweet Gunther - but this essay explains it perfectly.<br /><br /><blockquote>Living Love<br />If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember... <br />The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young new friend. You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter--simply because something in its eyes reached your heart. But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or front room--and when you feel it brush against you for the first time--it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come. <br /><br />The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later. It will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your long-time friend and see age where you once saw youth. You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will see sleep where you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust your friend's diet--and you may add a pill or two to her food. And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness. And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.<br /><br />And on this day--if your friend and God have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own--on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit. But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you---you will feel as alone as a single star in the dark night. If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you. But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joy-filled years, you may find that a soul--a bit smaller in size than your own---seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come. And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg--very very lightly. And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lay---you will remember those three significant days. The memory will most likely be painful, and leave an ache in your heart---As time passes the ache will come and go as it has a life of its own. You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will depress you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will still be an ache.<br /><br />But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when---along with the memory of your pet---and piercing through the heaviness in your heart---there will come a realization that belongs only to you. It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost. This realization takes the form of a Living Love---like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this love will remain and grow--and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have earned. It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live. It is a love which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our beloved pets--it is a love that we will always possess. <br />~ Written by Martin Scot Kosins ~ Author of "Maya's First Rose" </blockquote><br /><br />I miss you already, Gunther. Pretty sure I always will.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-6783331526354005772009-04-18T11:58:00.003-04:002009-04-18T12:04:31.045-04:00Five, Six, Pick Up Sticks...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Z5_BQt4GUbUiJ7Tq7N3XgUW-zkic9ZhKMsmTqpiAOESmGGEhoEIhnudRUMUI1P4YCS6Wu4PQGnAQH0kXZaWI6kresXfsHUF8_wYMl_kKTIJrAKpOGKauHPFn4joHX7Rj1NGNebbgj8/s1600-h/DSC01013.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Z5_BQt4GUbUiJ7Tq7N3XgUW-zkic9ZhKMsmTqpiAOESmGGEhoEIhnudRUMUI1P4YCS6Wu4PQGnAQH0kXZaWI6kresXfsHUF8_wYMl_kKTIJrAKpOGKauHPFn4joHX7Rj1NGNebbgj8/s320/DSC01013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326062633026114418" /></a><br />Okay - let me start with this disclaimer: It is not, on ANY level, my intention to impugn Ron's efforts with our yard. He works hard. Very hard. He spends a lot of time on his days off trying to work on our yard. So please, no one get the idea that I blame any of this in any way on him.<br /><br />That said... I hate yard-work. If you read my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=59805184005">25 Things on FaceBook</a> you know how I feel about gardening. This is similar. I grew up in an apartment building with a doorman so the idea of running around on a mower and pulling weeds and, heaven help us all, picking up sticks is completely foreign to me. Sure, we could cut down these beautiful centuries old trees and maintain a beautiful, golf-course lawn - but then we would displace all those indigenous species and I just don't think that is a fair trade-off. Unlike work inside the house, yard-work in a "natural" yard in the Pinelands of New Jersey merits precious little results. <br /><br />For example - when I clean the bathroom, I am left with sparkling white surfaces, smudge-free mirrors, fluffy towels and a lovely smell. When I spend two hours wandering around our back yard picking up assorted styles and sizes of sticks, I am left with two monstrous piles of sticks which never.go.away! This past Monday Ron spent a fair amount of time our there with a chipper working on these piles. He swears he made a significant dent in them - but seriously, there are still two very large pile of sticks in our yard. And it makes me crazy. <br /><br />Our original plan was that we would burn these sticks when we go camping. Well, we have a <a href=" http://ttmms.blogspot.com/search/label/Diabetic%20Dog">diabetic dog</a> who won't poop or eat when not at home so we no longer GO camping. So much for that plan. I just wheeled two large garbage cans full of sticks out front for the township folk to take away... and the piles do not look any smaller. It is Grape Nuts Syndrome at its best. No matter what you do, there are still more in the bowl.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-62337868884517043502009-03-14T21:52:00.002-04:002009-03-14T21:53:48.681-04:00It's Just Nature!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/Sbxfp7I9vWI/AAAAAAAAArQ/ePzntqR298Y/s1600-h/050620_penguins_vmed.widec.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/Sbxfp7I9vWI/AAAAAAAAArQ/ePzntqR298Y/s320/050620_penguins_vmed.widec.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313226834244910434" /></a><br />This past Friday, I spent the day subbing for PirateTeacherFriend. I enjoy being in that room for several reasons - I know that PirateTeacherFriend is happy with my efforts and has confidence in me (heck - it was his idea that I sub to begin with, so it is only fitting...) so I can relax and just do my thing. I also enjoy his class - there are some very bright and interesting little minds in that second grade room - and it doesn't hurt that they like me in there too... And sometimes, PirateTeacherFriend asks me to bring a movie... <br /><br />Well - I arrived with "Stellaluna" (both the movie and the book), a wonderful story about friendship and acceptance, some worksheets and even an outside game similar to MarcoPolo to help the kids learn about echolocation. Just in case. Instead - I notice I am being asked to show the students "The March of the Penguins" since it ties in nicely with the Language Arts unit. Makes perfect sense, and in theory a wonderful idea. Seemingly innocent request... right? <br /><br />Have you SEEN this movie?? It is incredibly sad even when one is not knee deep in hormones. It is a documentary, so even though it is only 80 minutes long, it FEELS much longer... For seven year olds... it gets even better - gasps of horror as the leopard seal gulps down a penguin... "Is it DEAD??" when a little chick freezes in the Antarctic's subzero temperatures - sniffles when the adult penguins abandon their young at the end of the film... Not what one would call a "fun" day - not hard, mind you, just not fun... <br /><br />At the end of the movie... I posed a question: "Those of you who were horrified when the leopard seal ate that penguin, please tell me how that is different from you eating a hamburger..." One of the aforementioned bright, interesting minds raised his hand and said, "The hamburger is dead and the penguin was living." <br /><br />'nough said...Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-25833813980394655522009-02-18T11:57:00.004-05:002009-02-18T12:03:52.436-05:00"UNCLE!!!!!!"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SZw-x5PhRzI/AAAAAAAAAq4/L3nHjCUHf0M/s1600-h/1143324753D146Kf.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SZw-x5PhRzI/AAAAAAAAAq4/L3nHjCUHf0M/s320/1143324753D146Kf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304183488036030258" /></a><br />They said it would happen. They said I would probably find an assignment while subbing that I would not return to... I thought it might have been PE - but I would do it again even though it was not my favorite thing ever. I had one fourth grade assignment that was more than a little rough - but I would still return to that room and try it again. I had a fine day in the "behavioral room" a traditional "I'm not going back there - you can't make me" assignment for subs. So imagine my surprise to learn that the one thing I will not be doing again after tomorrow (because I have already given my word) is returning to a Pre-K room. I finally found the one thing that will make me exercise my right as a sub to just say no. <br /><br />"Boys and Girls, this is Happy the Tooth! Do you know why he is happy?"<br />"That's his name"<br />"Yes, that's right - his name is Happy and he IS happy - because he is healthy. How do we keep our teeth healthy?"<br />"Exercise" <br />"Exercise helps keep us healthy, that's true - what else?"<br />"Food"<br />"What kind of food"<br />"Cupcakes"<br />"Boys and girls, raise your hand if you think cupcakes are a healthy choice for our teeth." Half the class raises their little hands and the other half does not.<br />"I think we can choose something better" One student has a quivering lip... <br />"My tooth isn't happy"<br />"It's ok to have a cupcake once in a while if we BRUSH our teeth - but we should try to choose things like apples for snacks to keep our teeth super healthy"<br /><br />Maybe it is crazy - but spending the day talking about Happy the Tooth and telling 3 and 4 year olds to keep their hands to themselves 6 million times in the space of an hour and trying to figure out how to play with them is not my idea of a day well-spent. Don't misunderstand me - on NO LEVEL am I impugning the efforts of those brave souls who do this on a day to day basis. In fact I admire and respect their ability to reach these little hearts and minds - but I am not able to fill their shoes even a little bit and maintain any kind of sanity. <br /><br />A little while later - believe it or not - we had one student lose her first tooth ever. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle - out comes the tooth. Hurray! Little Suzie lost her tooth... Little Mary sees blood and starts screaming because Suzie is bleeding. OMG. Someone please - shoot me. It is a quicker death...<br /><br />I seriously don't know how anyone can do that day after day after day....<br /><br />So I am crying "Uncle". Tomorrow will be my last day in Pre-K. Ever.<br /><br />(A special thank you to TaiChiInstructorFriend who was able to put up with my crabipotimus attitude last evening and restore my good humor... )Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-88486462091725089912009-02-16T20:36:00.003-05:002009-02-16T20:52:35.735-05:00I want to be a farmer...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SZoXzxj7E1I/AAAAAAAAAqw/6V6BA3uCAiM/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SZoXzxj7E1I/AAAAAAAAAqw/6V6BA3uCAiM/s320/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303577689426957138" /></a><br />We are webkinz-addicted here. All three of us have Webkinz and keep up our own little worlds on a fairly regular basis. I could say that I have one to keep my finger on the pulse of what the kids like - but that would be somewhat less than honest. Truth is - the games on there are about all I can handle - Cash Cow being my super-fave. What is really funny is that Ron has one. Actually, he has two. For months he ignored his - until recently he found a game on there that he likes (I think it is Zingoz POP or something to that effect) and has been on there periodically. <br /><br />So - one evening a week or so ago, I walk in to the living room and there is Ron on his MacBook Pro surfing the web happily. He says to me "I think I am going to be a farmer." My brain immediately assumes he has lost his damn mind. I mean seriously... he just gets this big promotion to Director and he wants to be a farmer?! But I say "Like with corn?" and he says "And pumpkins and watermelon". Clearly - he has given this a lot of thought. "Oh - okay" I say as I return to the kitchen to quietly mull over what could be going on with my normally sensible husband. <br /><br />About 15 minutes later he comes to the kitchen and says "You can buy an outdoor room - right? A yard?" "For what dear?" "For my farm." And then I realize - he means for his Webkinz! Holy CRAP! All along I think he is talking about a MAJOR life change when really he has found a way to earn KinzCash on Webkinz... He grows fruit and veggies on Webkinz and sells them at the "W Shop"... THIS is what he meant when he said he wanted to be a farmer. <br /><br />Huge sigh of relief... <br /><br />Huge...Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-58457643985735913102009-01-09T07:11:00.005-05:002009-01-09T07:38:20.502-05:00You just never know...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SWdETRbtO1I/AAAAAAAAAqY/ziMnRNFZz-U/s1600-h/crane.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SWdETRbtO1I/AAAAAAAAAqY/ziMnRNFZz-U/s320/crane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289271385257753426" /></a><br />I had a great day subbing yesterday. I was a sixth grade resource teacher for a planning day (this is a day when resource teacher and reg ed teacher collaborate to create lesson plans suitable for all students). In speaking with the teacher I was replacing for the day, she let me know that my only real concern would be one boy with ADHD who couldn't sit still for more than ten seconds at a time. Generally, ADHD behaviors don't bother me. I know what they are and let them go unless and until the affect another student. Okay - there is the back story.<br /><br />So the small group of students arrived. I introduced myself and this boy (we will call him Steve) blurts out "are you the one who made that crane?" referring to the paper crane sitting on his teacher's desk. In the beginning of the year I left one every time I subbed in a room. "I am that one" I replied. "Would you make me one?" The delight and serious desperation on this sixth grader's face told me I had been given the gift of a much easier day... <br /><br />"Steve," I replied "I will make you a crane with my best paper if you can find a way to help me out a little in here today." "Sure! he said - what do you need?" "I need you to do everything you can to be quiet and not disturb the students around you and share what you have in that awesome brain of yours - can you do that please?" "Okay - and then can I have a crane?" "Yes Steve - at the end of the day, you may take the crane home. I will make you one at lunchtime and put it right here so you can look at it." <br /><br />For the rest of the day, all that was required was a quick reminder "Steve - you aren't acting like someone who wants to take this crane home." and Steve immediately did his version of sitting still. (Hey - if you have to sit on the chair with one foot tucked under you and bouncing a little to stay quiet and focused, so be it.) Honestly, I only had to remind him maybe three times... I had a great day... Just goes to show - you just never know... Sixth grade boys and origami cranes... plan only to be surprisedDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-47536393356909261052009-01-03T17:34:00.001-05:002009-01-03T17:36:43.328-05:00It wasn't her fault...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SGOFMEzu16I/AAAAAAAAAU8/KUBxOOWH66k/s1600-h/rebeccassagapic.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SGOFMEzu16I/AAAAAAAAAU8/KUBxOOWH66k/s320/rebeccassagapic.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216159235920811938" /></a>If anyone is still reading here - this is part thirteen of Rebecca's Saga - which will be needing a better title very soon - I am open to suggestions! <br /><br /><blockquote>The morning after the downpour found Rebecca on her sofa, the TV still on and a small knit throw wrapped tightly around her. She heard the weather man promise sunnier skies and highs in the mid 80's. Her head was splitting. Rebecca guessed that drinking half a bottle of wine by herself had not been her best move to date. She crawled into the bathroom fumbling for the Advil bottle and headed into the kitchen to make some coffee. <br /><br />She waited impatiently while the coffee brewed and perused her lengthy to-do list. She realized that she still had plenty of work to lose herself in. Plenty of work to absorb her pain. She didn't need to be involved in this whole Becky, Vince and his sister/her mother-the-drunk disaster! She had floors to sand and walls to paint and cabinets to replace... flowerbeds... sidewalks... it was just so much, she thought... how will she ever get it done? She poured a cup of coffee and slowly sank into the papasan chair in the front room. The mantle clock sang out the Westminster Quarters - so it was quarter of - but quarter of what? She dozed off until they chimed again - 10 times... 10:00 am. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had slept until 10:00 am and she remembered why - her whole morning was basically gone. <br /><br />She finished her coffee and decided to end the suspense once and for all. WHAT was under that terrible linoleum? She needed her iron to heat the linoleum to weaken the aggressive adhesive. Unfortunately she was still unable to locate it in all the boxes. How much could an iron cost? Maybe she should just go get a new one. "One more time - just dig through all the boxes one more time." she told herself. <br /><br />Paper lay all around her on the floor of the attic. She unwrapped box after box - item after item - no iron. Candlesticks, books, old CD's - no iron. Then she found the small cedar box. Carefully inscribed on the top were the words "Adel Rose Hayward". Rebecca's hands trembled as she ran them over the top of the box. For a while she just sat with the box in her lap. The last time this box was opened... she remembered it had been a clear, crisp spring morning. Tulips bloomed in the flower beds of the condo and birds sang. Beautiful... but not as beautiful as the small perfect baby who slept on her shoulder. There was something about this child - she was so sweet tempered with beautiful blue laughing eyes. When she slept on Rebecca's shoulder Adel brought a kind of peace to her that she never thought possible. Rebecca opened the cedar box and carefully dressed her daughter in the christening gown sent by Rick's parents who were on business in Italy. It was a beautiful gown - long and lacey - arduous to put on an infant. Such a happy day. They had been so proud, she and Rick. They were a family. Everything felt shiny and new and full of promise. Who would have guessed they would only have six more months? <br /><br />Rebecca opened the box and carefully took out the gown. So small - so pretty. She held it tight to her chest rocking back and forth. That last day... cold and rainy, wind aggressively blowing leaves from the trees, not ideal conditions for travel. Why did she HAVE to go that day? Why not wait for a clearer day? Was it so important t return a movie on time? Couldn't it have been late? No - no it couldn't. Rick would never have liked a movie being returned late. She blamed him a little, but she knew that she decided to return the movie because she was sick of being stuck in the confines of their condo. She wanted to get out just for a little - returning the movie seemed like a good idea at the time. <br /><br />In the end, it hadn't been her fault. She was turning on a green light. The guy in the Suburban ran the light. The police report spelled it all out. He was looking at his GPS. He admitted it. Wasn't her fault. The car slid into a pole - wasn't her fault. The weather... It wasn't her fault... Rebecca was curled up in a ball on the floor sobbing. Tears and sweat streamed down her face. She continued to hold tight to the gown - crying until she fell into a fitful sleep.</blockquote>Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-89747485163846234992009-01-01T17:36:00.003-05:002009-01-01T17:39:08.290-05:00Welcome 2009!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SV1F2D4L_HI/AAAAAAAAApg/CWhahnH2GsQ/s1600-h/1happy-new-year.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SV1F2D4L_HI/AAAAAAAAApg/CWhahnH2GsQ/s320/1happy-new-year.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286458332659055730" /></a>I am a little late with this post - but have been working on it for about a week or so in my head... I don't do resolutions, I do goals. Resolutions bring out the rebel in me and I feel compelled to screw it up. Goals seem so much more "people friendly". Yeah - I know - it's a game of semantics. But it works for me, so whatever. <br /><br />Some of these goals are big, some small - some are even a little superficial. But I want to work on all of these things.<br /><br />Okay - My first goal is to get back to school. I need to work very hard this year to make sure this happens - the only remaining question is how does one get from a BA in Anthropology to teaching Special Ed. Hmmm... methinks I have my work cut out for me. <br /><br />Second goal - I need to work more diligently on my TaiChi so that the next time TaiChiInstructorFriend goes on vacation and asks me to take the class while he is gone I will feel that I can do it. I am rather upset with myself that I couldn't bring myself to do this this time - I won't disappoint him again.<br /><br />Closely related to my second goal is the third: To bring the number of regular participants in Yi's White Crane TaiChi Club up to ten. I have an action plan - and any of you who are local to me and have not at least TRIED the class - well - I would be grateful if you would help me out a little with this goal. <br /><br />Fourth - very cliche and intentionally left off of last year's list is to lose weight. 61 pounds. Probably a little much for me in one year but you know, if you are not challenged to do the impossible, you will never do what is possible, right?? So we'll see how that goes. <br /><br />Fifth - and this was not my idea, but I think I will try it anyway. I want to have something I have written, published. Preferably in print. I am told a magazine piece may work for me or possibly a poem. Look for more ramblings and attempts along these lines here. <br /><br />I think that is plenty for one year. It is always interesting to see how it all shakes out...Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-39874769646458455422009-01-01T14:22:00.002-05:002009-01-01T14:23:34.639-05:00Real quick...I want to let you know that if you love hummus, like WIlliam and I do, but hate how expensive it is... you should try making your own! It is seriously easy - check it out at <a href="http://ourkitchenklatch.blogspot.com/2009/01/homemade-hummus-is-yummus.html">Our Kitchen Klatch</a>!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-68175626144136868822008-12-26T17:13:00.004-05:002008-12-26T17:45:35.565-05:00I promise not to turn this into a weight loss blog...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SVVd6rf_K1I/AAAAAAAAApQ/AaN3Chx6aBM/s1600-h/Untitled-1.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 183px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SVVd6rf_K1I/AAAAAAAAApQ/AaN3Chx6aBM/s320/Untitled-1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284233000479828818" /></a><br />But - you need to indulge me a post on the subject at least occasionally...<br /><br />Those of you who know me well and for a long time know that I have been running from the fat girl for a long long time. All my life as a matter of fact. Kicked that beyotch to the curb about a decade ago - but the pregnancy changed the game for me. Mind you - I am not blaming my current status solely on an event that occurred eight years ago. I have gone through different mindsets on this subject ranging from "who cares" to "maniacal obsessive" - none of it has served me well.<br /><br />So I go back in time and revisit what I did to lose the weight originally. Raise your hand if you know what the answer is. Yes - that's right. Weight Watchers. BUT (and this is a big but - pun intended, LOL) it was PRE-POINTS!!! I loathe this 1-2-3 B.S. and everything that has come since. I have tried on three separate occasions to lose weight this way and for reasons unknown to me - points don't work for me. I liked the old exchange system... I don't remember the fancy-pants marketing term for it. but it was circa 1996. I spent a fair amount of time on-line last night trying to dig something up from that time period. Some luck - but what I did find was some information on <a href="https://www.tops.org/default.aspx">TOPS</a> (take off pounds sensibly). Guess what they offer??? (well - besides affordable meetings that are held at a time that I can not attend) An exchange system! YAY! So I downloaded their materials (doesn't say anywhere that I can't). And have just survived day one. Rather well, I might add. Never mind that I am pretty hungry right now - but - that really shouldn't be surprising. I walked for about a half an hour as well. That was the other part of my success before - I walked A.LOT. So I went out and bought sneakers today. And I walked. And now I feel like I got hit with a Mac Truck - but I am hoping it will get better... with time. That whole exercise gives you energy thing?? Doesn't work. Not in my universe. <br /><br />So - the gig is I want to lose 61 pounds. Doctors would tell me I "need" to loose about hmmm - probably closer to 80 but I figure if they want to live my life they can pay my rent - 61 is just fine with me. At the end of the day - 55 or even 50 may be fine with me too - we shall see when we get there. I am NOT going to have that "last ten pounds" frustrate me into giving up completely and gaining it all back - been there. Done that. NOT happening again. Skinny is not on my wishlist. <br /><br />You can watch my progress at the bottom of the blog - there is a little tracker. I reserve the right to rant when I need to - but I will be careful not to go on and on and on about this here. I know what a colossal bore that can be. <br /><br />Okay - thanks for listening... Encouragement is appreciated. :DDaisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-57292973297170722892008-12-23T10:40:00.009-05:002008-12-23T16:10:29.020-05:00The one about Lipstick Jungle and reflections on friendship and life.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SVFS9szmbjI/AAAAAAAAApI/Tk3-2UgD_Fs/s1600-h/large_lipstickjung.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SVFS9szmbjI/AAAAAAAAApI/Tk3-2UgD_Fs/s320/large_lipstickjung.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283095057835388466" /></a> This morning while watching <a href="http://www.nbc.com/Lipstick_Jungle/">Lipstick Jungle</a> (three cheers for DVR!), it dawned on me how very odd it is that I love this show so much. I can't relate to these women on.any.level. They spend more on one outfit than I spend on clothes in a decade, they are driven career women, they obviously feel quite at home in "the city" and they all adore and trust each other. This is by far my biggest sticking point. I don't have girlfriends. <br /><br />I have <a href="http://ttmms.blogspot.com/2008/03/plea-from-mans-woman.html">mentioned before</a> that I prefer the company of men and while there is some real truth in that statement, it doesn't take away from the real truth. Oh.. what IS that truth you ask?? That truth is that I know that a friendship - a REAL friendship with a woman - will never work. I give up before it starts. I look for trouble to reinforce this idea along the way. I make excuses. There are some very valid reasons for this - and I won't get into it here, but suffice it to say that I have been badly burned by women claiming to be my friends, and I just don't see any reason to allow the possibility of that happening again. <br /><br />I see women opening up to each other and sharing and relying on each other for advice and support - and I am so envious I almost puke. And then I remember the flip side of that is the kind of vulnerability that I just am terrified of. Once a woman knows so much about you, she can use it against you. And my experience is that she usually does. Say what you will about men, but I have never been betrayed when I have confided in a man. Ever. Women "sell" themselves as loyal, all these "girlfriends" mugs and keychains - but men really ARE loyal as friends. <br /><br />Which brings me back to this show... I think we buy into it all - and we may even be able to admit that we want it. At the end of the day it takes a lot of patience and courage not just to be a friend but to allow others to be your friend. Sometimes I think I have that kind of patience and courage. And then I realize - I don't. Not yet. Maybe never. <br /><br />Oh yeah - and I am SO glad that Victory and Joe are back together and I think Shane is acting like an ass.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-16369847495601972992008-12-21T09:18:00.007-05:002008-12-21T10:30:30.311-05:00Violins, Toasters, Diet Ads and Soulmates...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SU5f1Vu-iHI/AAAAAAAAApA/5pivoVaxuxk/s1600-h/happyholidays.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SU5f1Vu-iHI/AAAAAAAAApA/5pivoVaxuxk/s320/happyholidays.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282264782924056690" /></a>Yesterday we had our friends and family pot-luck brunch... it would seem the fates were smiling on us because in the past, we held our brunch on The SUNDAY before Christmas - had we stuck to THAT policy THIS year, Mother Nature would have stolen our show. As it turns out - we changed to Saturday this year and the show went on in spite of CrabbyWhineySIL calling out. <br /><br />A good time was had by all! My mother played piano, TalentedMusicianFriend (who is the wife of PirateTeacherFriend) played violin and we all tried to sing - only TalentedMusicianFriend actually succeeded, LOL... But it was incredibly fun and I felt that we honored my grandfather by reviving our singing tradition. We were blessed with an abundant supply of delicious food (If ANYONE has any suggestions on what to do with leftover bagels, I am all ears!) and finally opened and shared the $200 bottle of tequila which was given to Ron by his ex-boss in like 1998 or so... <br /><br />After everyone else left, close friends Anthony (Ron't lifelong friend) and Alison (Anthony's wife) remained - until 10 pm - and we got to talking about many many things. One thing that was decided was that no one makes a decent toaster. We don't even care how much it is - but we want to be assured of consistently being rewarded with perfect toast every time. Even if there is only a minute in between toastings. We have a Krups toaster which I proudly and confidently purchased a few years ago for approximately $60. A name like Krups - SURELY it has to be decent - right!??! WRONG!!!!! It toasts only the top half of the bread. AND as a special bonus, if you make more than one round of toast consecutively the second person will receive only burnt offerings. Is it really too much to ask for a small appliance that will toast evenly? We can watch movies on devices we hold in our hands, we can record and pause live TV, we have little devices that give us directions - but NO ONE can make a decent toaster?? Maybe I should write a letter to Steve Jobs. I am sure the iToast would look great AND work perfectly. Wonder if he would consider it?!<br /><br />Moving forward... soulmates. I wonder how many of you believe in the concept of a soulmate, or I am told more accurately phrased as a twin flame... the other half of your own soul - you only have one - you spend your life looking for this person... blah blah blah... you know what I am talking about. Please take my poll on the right. I can't tell how you voted. It isn't that sophisticated of a system... just vote. Don't be so paranoid! I will blog about this later. <br /><br />Yesterday I watched TaiChiInstructorFriend and his daughter pull out of my driveway. I won't see them again until they return from Brazil the first week of January - I felt a pang of anxiety - and feel it still when I think of them being gone. Godspeed, friends. I will sincerely miss you while you are away... <br /><br />Finally - I have to mention that I used to really like evite - and I still like the IDEA of evite - but I doubt I will use them again. Too many ads... for DIETS! What is UP with that?? The juxtaposition of ads for Weight Watchers and my pot-luck brunch is reinforcing of my idea that the holiday season is mostly to keep the diet-industry afloat. Fatten 'em up, then make them wildly paranoid about bathing suit season! Brilliant! Mwahhhahaha! Evil maniacal SOB's. But that is a rant for another day. I digress - bottom line, I am investigating other on-line invites - right now <a href="http://purpletrail.com">purpletrail</a> is looking pretty sweet... have YOU got a favorite??<br /><br />Happy Holidays my friends... happy holidays!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-50766279873991846362008-12-16T06:55:00.004-05:002008-12-16T07:03:21.972-05:00Sometimes small things make you a hero.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SUeYhoRMiwI/AAAAAAAAAo4/NWEtqkBcXMw/s1600-h/hero_2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SUeYhoRMiwI/AAAAAAAAAo4/NWEtqkBcXMw/s320/hero_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280356791627844354" /></a><br />Yesterday I was blessed with the opportunity to be a hero. Mind you, in a million years I never thought that covering P.E. would make everyone think I am so fabulous, LOL! I was supposed to sub fourth grade - BUT the teacher booked two subs... she booked the other sub in September but had forgotten. After ample apologies from her (hey - accidents happen) I went to the office to see if I was needed anywhere - sure enough, they needed a PE sub in the other building. I rolled my eyes, chuckled a little and accepted.<br /><br />On the way over, I realized that since that school starts earlier, one class already missed PE. When I arrived, I told the secretary that if that teacher wanted her planning period back I would be happy to help her out with that - she was welcome to send her kids to me during my free period. <br /><br />You would have thought I gave her a million dollars... (maybe the next time I am loud when I sub for PirateTeacherFriend she will refrain from scolding me) but seriously - what was I going to do with a free period? Other teachers found out what I did and I was bombarded all day with accolades - which is super-nice, but honestly, I felt sad that <span style="font-weight:bold;">any</span> other sub wouldn't have done the same thing... <br /><br />It was second and third grade PE - and I was happy that I always carry my whistle, that's for sure - Even <span style="font-weight:bold;">I</span> would have had a hard time yelling over them to get their attention). I also had a ton more fun than I thought I would, certainly more fun than I had subbing for 4th, 5th and 6th grade PE!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-8795904962466710592008-12-14T09:16:00.003-05:002008-12-14T09:28:27.763-05:00You know when you go out to dinner for your birthday...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SUUYBlD7EQI/AAAAAAAAAow/WfOEwDG7v2c/s1600-h/cupcake.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SUUYBlD7EQI/AAAAAAAAAow/WfOEwDG7v2c/s320/cupcake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279652553569276162" /></a><br />...And they dress in funny outfits and sing embarrassing songs loudly so that the whole restaurant looks at you? Well that didn't happen... GMOM did manage to alert the pianist (I just like saying that...) to the fact that we were celebrating my birthday so he did play happy birthday and sing to me... but it was nice and not ridiculously embarrassing,..<br /><br />Then there was the part where GMOM spilled iced cold water down my shirt (Hello!) and Mr.GMOM decided to let the comedian know that it was my birthday... yes. Thanks so much for THAT!!! It actually was a very good time, and I feel very blessed to have such wonderful friends. <br /><br />This does, actually, conclude my birthday celebration for 2008. It began on Thanksgiving. My mom and my aunt gifted me at that time... I had a little cake... Ron made me a pie last weekend! (There are pictures somewhere for that, but they aren't on the photo server yet - so we shall have to be patient) Many people wished me happy birthday on facebook as well. And everything concluded last evening in the company of some excellent friends. It was a very nice celebration this year.<br /><br />Thanks so much to everyone -Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-48268528020290125482008-12-03T21:47:00.003-05:002008-12-03T21:49:47.763-05:00And now... a little humor.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/STdFOroe_aI/AAAAAAAAAoo/w5gqbPmsa64/s1600-h/CatLaugh.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/STdFOroe_aI/AAAAAAAAAoo/w5gqbPmsa64/s320/CatLaugh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275761607020838306" /></a><br />(REAL little...)<br /><br />A substitute teacher was trying to make use of her psychology background. She began her class by saying, "Everyone who thinks you're stupid, please stand up."<br /><br />Right away, Little Johnny stood up.<br /><br />The teacher said, "Why do you think you're stupid, Little Johnny?" <br /><br />"I don’t, ma'am, but I hate to see you standing there all by yourself!"<br /><br />Badadum. <br />Thank you. <br />Thank you very much. <br />I'll be here all week...Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-89023287668885849842008-11-25T18:05:00.005-05:002008-11-25T18:21:37.409-05:00A cautionary tale...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SSyIfHxcqbI/AAAAAAAAAog/HkM-XyiPNrE/s1600-h/mistake.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SSyIfHxcqbI/AAAAAAAAAog/HkM-XyiPNrE/s320/mistake.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272739331987777970" /></a><br />Let this be a lesson to all who would make assumptions... about boys. And girls. And pink Hanna Montana pencils... <br /><br />Today I subbed for a first grade teacher. It was me and the special ed teacher in the room. For a large portion of today there was a "discussion" between a boy and a girl about a pink Hanna Montana pencil. The girl insisted that the boy took it from her - that it was hers. He made no bones about the fact that he doesn't like her - "she is not my friend"... horrifying first-grade things like that... <br /><br />Off and on throughout the day was the issue of this pencil. Boy says it is his. Girl says it is hers. Finally I take the pencil. In the back of my brain I think... "I will leave it for the teacher to talk with them tomorrow." And then I thought "what am I thinking?? I can't leave a busy teacher a note about a pink Hanna Montana Pencil! This is nonsense." So when the boy left I gave it to the girl. Told her to take it home and leave it at home. <br /><br />A few minutes after the girl left (her bus was called) the boy returned to the room. With his sister. She said she gave the pencil to the boy. The other teacher thanked her and said that it had helped the boy get his work finished that day.<br /><br />OMG. I felt absolutely HORRIBLE! How could I fix this?!? I totally owe this boy an apology. I told the teacher what had happened. She wasn't angry - she told me that the girl has done this before and that I had no way of knowing. I even told her that I had planned to leave it for the teacher with a note and then thought the better of that idea... she laughed. <br /><br />I believed the girl not because I liked her more or think any less of the boy... I believed the girl because it was a pink Hanna Montana pencil. And maybe because I heard him being so wretched to her (knowing what I know now I see that he had a reason). <br /><br />I screwed up. BIG. What is the message this boy received from all of this?? He is not trustworthy? Girls will be believed more than boys? <br /><br />UGH!!!!! I fell for the oldest stereotype in the book and I am woefully embarrassed by it.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-84475457765505325522008-11-24T20:40:00.004-05:002008-11-24T20:51:21.958-05:00Opportunity wears soft-soled shoes...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SStZ9DayOrI/AAAAAAAAAoY/eOpqS0teOs4/s1600-h/opportunity_image1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SStZ9DayOrI/AAAAAAAAAoY/eOpqS0teOs4/s320/opportunity_image1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272406694191839922" /></a><br />For years I have been trying to figure out how to make the holidays less like a potlatch and more about reaching out with hearts and hands - I have weakly suggested we forgo our family pollyanna in years past and have been shot down... this year I decided that most people would welcome the opportunity to just get together without having to worry about spending money on a trinket gift... will this save us a lot of money? No. of course not. But it MAY help everyone to change their focus... it isn't about the presents. It is about connecting with each other. Pure and simple. Spending time - not money... <br /><br />This year, the weak economy and tenuous employment situations for many offer each of us an opportunity to really think about what is important. What really makes us happy. Kids too - kids remember and appreciate the time spent with them - the times we focus on them and make them feel special. Take advantage of this time to shift your focus... <br /><br />Say no to the potlatch... say yes to real connections!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-70823507115991485942008-11-16T08:07:00.006-05:002008-11-16T08:18:09.611-05:00Apparently, I have been promised extra energy...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SSAdKf21SoI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/isFaE5XwUY4/s1600-h/sagittarius.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SSAdKf21SoI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/isFaE5XwUY4/s320/sagittarius.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269243630210861698" /></a><br />Here is what my horoscope says for today:<br /><br /><blockquote>It's as if you took extra vitamins today, for your energy level is high and can soar even higher if you are willing to let go of your past. Mars is now in your sign until December 27, revving up your motor and supplying you with extra fuel. Don't procrastinate; it's your time to start something fabulous.<br /></blockquote><br /><br />Sounds impressive - doesn't it??! Most days I read this horoscope (just for fun - I know that) and marvel at the ring of truth it has to it... Today I read this and am seriously hoping I get some of that energy... what would be really great is if I could have that energy even if I exercise. Because for me - in the alternate universe in which I live - the more I exercise the more I feel like someone beat the crap out of me. Sort of counter-productive to losing weight, isn't it? <br /><br />Anywho - if Mars being in my sign can somehow fix this for me temporarily - then woo hoo! :D <br /><br />Yeah, I know. <br /><br />It's B.S. <br /><br />But a girl can dream right??Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-36296958781540625212008-11-14T22:10:00.004-05:002008-11-14T22:13:25.455-05:00It is easy to be excellent in a sea of mediocrity.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SR4-DEnu9wI/AAAAAAAAAoI/otkpJn8AaT0/s1600-h/That-Is-Excellent-MrBurns.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SR4-DEnu9wI/AAAAAAAAAoI/otkpJn8AaT0/s320/That-Is-Excellent-MrBurns.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268716836570986242" /></a><br />I subbed today with someone who was - well - mediocre. Perfectly nice woman. very sweet. But a complete and total push-over. She subbed for the regular ed teacher and I for the special ed teacher. We had only one class period together and then I brought my students back to the room at lunch time and at the end of the day.<br /><br />The class period we had together, was odd at best. The room is full of diverse abilities - and the assignment left was a worksheet packet. She tried to have everyone work together, got upset when some students worked ahead. Didn't want to allow students to help other students - these are sixth graders... one student is an honors student who would have otherwise just been sitting there doing nothing. He wanted to help one of my students, a new student in class, who was struggling with the multiple instructions given (I was pretty-much tied to the Downs Syndrome child who needed constant assistance). She didn't want him to help... it was frustrating, but we survived. <br /><br />When we returned to the room for lunch she was sitting at a table in the back drawing (she is an art teacher she told me - I think she was drawing things for the students). Kids were loud, doing whatever they wanted, not lining up for lunch - they were trying to pass out lunch tickets... no one could hear. It was pure chaos... I finally spoke up. Couldn't take it anymore. Just said (in my naturally loud booming voice) "Ladies and Gentlemen - if you would like to get to lunch this afternoon I strongly suggest you get in line and get quiet." And then I waited. I reminded them that I would not allow them to embarrass me in the hallway and we would simply wait for quiet before we would leave. And we waited. We were seven minutes late for lunch but we were quiet. <br /><br />Imagine my surprise when I returned with my students at the end of the day and encountered the exact same situation! But the teacher, who had a planning day and was in the building, followed me into the room and caught her doing nothing and the students carrying on - and she knew I had nothing to do with it (thank HEAVENS!) ... I felt bad for the other sub - clearly this grade level is more than she can handle, as I said - she is very nice... but I felt embarrassed for her... <br /><br />But I realized today that I actually am a decent sub and I am grateful that I have that weird invisible thing that my mother has (on a smaller, less-developed level of course) where students just seem to listen to me. I do not have a huge problem with classroom management. I don't pretend to know why... but I am grateful... no doubt about it!<br /><br />Oh - and I booked three and a half more days while I was in the building today!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-58442223438386113812008-11-07T07:03:00.004-05:002009-01-03T17:34:37.637-05:00The Meeting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SGOFMEzu16I/AAAAAAAAAU8/KUBxOOWH66k/s1600-h/rebeccassagapic.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SGOFMEzu16I/AAAAAAAAAU8/KUBxOOWH66k/s320/rebeccassagapic.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216159235920811938" /></a>You thought it would never happen. You thought I had forgotten about Rebecca and Vince and Garrett and Becky. But you were wrong! I have finally taken the time to write a bit more... so I hope you enjoy a little more of Vince's nostalgic recollections... Part twelve follows:<br /><br /><blockquote>It was a blistering hot August afternoon in 1995 when Vince first darkened the doorway at Garrett Glass. Dressed in full Army Dress Uniform he was an impressive figure. Garrett was in a hurry, needed to get to an appointment he explained and asked how he could help Vince.<br /><br />"I want to talk to you about my niece." he said. <br />"I don't think that I know your niece, Sir" Garrett explained<br />"I think you do. Her name is Becky."<br /><br />Garrett stopped dead in his tracks and looked Vince straight in the eye. "So you are Vince then." he said and held out his hand. Vince recalled his firm honest handshake - truly a man's handshake tells us of his character. There was just something about Garrett. He intended to really throw his weight around and show tis guy who was boss. Instead he almost instantly liked him. <br /><br />"Vince, I'm sorry - I am really running late here. I would love to talk to you about Becky, but I have to get going. You are welcome to ride along if you like. We can talk on the way." <br /><br />This was the first day of what would prove to be the best friendship of Vince's life. The two rode together in that beat up old truck that Garrett was so fond of. Vince laughed to himself thinking of all the times he tried to talk Garrett into buying something new, but all Garrett ever wanted to spend extra money on was that 1957 Cadillac Convertible that he was restoring. Well, that and Becky of course. His devotion to that little girl was beyond imagination. She wasn't spoiled - but he made sure that she was properly cared for - and well, maybe a little bit spoiled. But they had a chemistry between them, a connection that was unbelievable. When Becky came into a room, Garrett's eyes lit up - she ran to him with complete joy and abandon - like they had been separated for months even though it had only been hours. <br /><br />Vince helped Garrett replace Mrs. McClosky's windshield. They said little while they were working and Mrs. McClosky looked confused about why this army gentleman in his fancy uniform was helping to repair her Toyota Corolla. When they finished they said goodbye and headed back to the shop. On the way, Garrett told him about Caterina. <br /><br />"Since she's been back, I've tried to help her stay sober. She lies all the time about her drinking, Vince. She shows up at odd hours. I let her see Becky, but not alone. Too afraid she may black out, or just forget what she is doing. We go to the park together..." Garrett tried to explain.<br /><br />"You knew she was a drunk when you met her, Garrett. How did you get so close, so intimate with her if drinking bothers you so much? Did you really think you would change her?" Vince was agitated. <br /><br />Garrett didn't answer. He just drove. Vince remembered thinking that he may have crossed a line - upset him somehow - touched a nerve. Eventually they pulled up in front of the shop. <br /><br />"You want to meet her?" Garrett asked<br />"Becky? Sure - I mean of course!" Vince answered, relieved that Garrett finally was talking again.<br /><br />They went across the street to a second story house-apartment. A large woman with bright silver hair and kind blue eyes answered the door. "Hi Mrs. Ivanov. I'm here for my lunch date" Garrett said. Mrs. Ivanov held the door open for him to enter the apartment. "Daddy!" Becky ran around the corner in a yellow sundress, her hair in pig tails and threw her arms around Garrett with such blatant happiness, you couldn't help but smile to see this reunion. <br /><br />When she saw Vince, she froze. Her face changed. Tears began to well up in her little toddler eyes. She must have been afraid of him - the uniform, his height - he was never sure what it had been exactly. Garrett explained that this was her Uncle Vince, that she didn't need to be afraid and when Vince offered his hand to her to shake, she tentatively put her little hand out as well - and Vince fell in love instantly. </blockquote>Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-74442110949466306512008-10-21T16:53:00.003-04:002008-10-21T17:00:29.310-04:00What is the sniglet for this??<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SP5C5svTRQI/AAAAAAAAAoA/PgtA88mgofY/s1600-h/mbcn796l.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SP5C5svTRQI/AAAAAAAAAoA/PgtA88mgofY/s320/mbcn796l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259714973844849922" /></a><br />You guys remember <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sniglet">sniglets</a>? Lactomangulation... Bevemeter... well - we need a sniglet to name the phenomenon where one looks in the mirror before a special occasion and thinks they look all sorts of fine only to discover when inspecting photos of the event that in fact one looked fat, ridiculous or - perhaps worst of all - both. What can we call that distorted perspective?? Has this happened to you at all? <br /><br />On a tangently-related note... here is a quiz... Your loved on asks you if you are as fat as someone else at a given event. Is the correct answer: 1) Oh no dear! Not even close! 2) I can't tell, she is wearing a coat. <br /><br />Yeah - that's what I thought.Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3582958818879783212.post-39183837532098114642008-10-11T17:56:00.004-04:002008-10-11T18:08:40.638-04:00FIlling the shoes of a gym teacher.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SPEj1iQQ3lI/AAAAAAAAAgI/9jwaA9UijO0/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZZX_F6IaViY/SPEj1iQQ3lI/AAAAAAAAAgI/9jwaA9UijO0/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256021642753138258" /></a><br />Yesterday, I was a gym teacher. Those of you who know me know that I generally have about as much regard for a gym teacher as I do a cock-roach. Okay. Maybe a little more. Just a teensy bit. Couple that with the fact that I am perhaps the most woefully uncoordinated person on the planet and I simply could not control my laughter when the sub callers asked me to accept this assignment. They practically begged me. Since my number one fear is disappointing people - I agreed to give it a try...<br /><br />I will tell you this - it IS hard work - a different kind of hard and not as hard as a regular day. I hardly had to write anything on my sub report (which usually fills two pages). I got to play all day - which was pretty cool. I DID have to do a lot of yelling, just so students would be able to hear me. The desk was an absolute train-wreck and there were smelly sneakers on the floor and dirty socks on what I THINK was supposed to be a bookshelf - but I am learning that everyone has a different organizational style than I do. <br /><br />All in all, it was okay. Not really my speed. Not my style. In a pinch, I would of course, do it again - but I won't be asking for that assignment anytime soon THAT's for sure!Daisyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03018568031615675530noreply@blogger.com4