The Good News and the Bad News

It is official, my brother and I are headed off to Africa. We are going in September for three weeks to volunteer in a village in Tanzania. I really feel grateful that I will be able to teach children there for a short time. I know this will be a great experience of learning and gratitude. That is the good news, the bad news is that after the falling, the aching, and the spraining, I am finally going in for surgery in two weeks. I have come to face the reality of a summer filled with casts, crutches, and three flights of stairs. I have also promised to be optimistic, knowing that in July I will go in for surgery on my other foot. (It's the darn ligaments, they need to be tightened.) However, I really will be grateful for these surgeries, because my doctor said that after them I will be able to run again. And while I may not be running in Africa, I will be jumping for joy! (Cheesy, I know, but appropriate to my feelings)

Cutting a Rug

It is true, I was cutting a rug with the senior citizens at their dance last weekend. It may be kind of hard to imagine my dancing ability and senior citizens, but pretty much we were awesome. My grandma is 91 and when she invited my brother and I down to the dance, I knew I would be getting a good work out in. If you know my grandma you know she is a whirlwind of energy. If you've never been to a senior citizen dance I would highly recommend it. (It really and truly was fun. The people there actually can dance, it was kind of fun to do more than just the old side to side shuffle.) There was even a high school kid who told me he comes every week just to learn to dance better, and I must admit he can dance a mean two step.
The dance started at 8:00 p.m. and as we walked in we were met by this 76 year old woman, who wanted to dance with my brother right away. My grandma put her right in her place, and let her know that he came to the dance with us and would first be dancing with us. Poor kid, he can't help he's a lady killer. We soon got into the groove as the band began to play, " There's a tear in my beer." ( A great oldie that we were all still humming the next day.) The band was really getting into it, and everyone was a twirling and a whirling. I learned some new moves with the two step and waltz and then "ding" 9:00 o'clock hit and everyone stopped and went to the back to sit, visit, and eat snacks. It was then I knew this was my kind of dance. After snacks we danced till 10:00 and then everyone grabbed their coats and headed for the door. (This is also my kind of short, sweet activity.)
The whole weekend was delightful, especially since I have the heart of a small town girl and being back in a small town dancing with good old folks, eating at the soda fountain/variety store, visiting with family, and driving around in the country all bring joy to my small town heart.

The Take Down

When danger comes upon most people they have that fight or flight mechanism, I however, have always had that fall down to the ground and cover your head mechanism. Being the only girl in my family has helped me practice this over and over as my brothers would scare me. Because of this when it came time to sign up for our annual winter class, my friend and I chose self defense. At first, class was pretty easy, blocks, kicks, strikes, identifying target points and getting away from grabs. Good things to remember, not to awkward to do. However, a few classes into the semester we all watched in wonder as our instructor put down mats and then strapped on a huge chest pad, leg and foot pads, and then put on a head guard with a clear visor. "Is he bringing in someone to fight with and show us what to do?" we wondered. Then he called each of us back, one at a time, for the take down. Imagine walking toward imminent danger, while eight other people are watching your every move. You can hear the instructor's voice as you get closer whispering, "You're just walking along minding your own business. . . . . . " and then bam, he grabs you, and you have to use what you have learned to get away from him. Some of you are probably thinking he isn't really that tough, and that he probably lets you get away. Speaking as a young student who hesitated slightly, and then was picked up, thrown to the ground and pinned, I would beg to differ. Pretty much you have to give it your all, or you're a goner. However, knowing that he isn't easing up on you, makes it even more sweet when you get away, and I must say while it scares me to death, I've thrown him twice and there is no better feeling then that.
The most dramatic moment of class came last week as my friend was going to the mats for the take down. We were all watching intently ready to yell suggestions, or encouragement. However, we were soon screaming in terror as our instructor pulled out a gun. Now obviously, it wasn't real, but our instructor is a man of few words and the gun came out of nowhere. Next he took out his fake knife, and somehow I was the lucky victim. (My weak spot and a knife, not a good mixture.) However, it was a really good learning experience. This class has taught me how not to be a victim, and the simple, most effective ways to get out of bad situations. I highly recommend taking a class like this to everyone. Sadly, this week is the last class and somehow I find myself in a nasty ankle brace (slight running accident). However, I figure hurt people get attacked, so maybe I'll still go and just give him a good eye poking.

The Largest Ice Cream Cone in the World, and The Disappearing Mailbox

I just had to share this delightful ice cream picture with everyone. My family was all together last weekend for a baby blessing and my sister-in-law gave my parents this amazing collage of family pictures all compiled into a poster. She sent all of the family photos to the place and guess which one they chose to enlarge and feature in the middle of that poster? That is right, this baby. The ice cream cone and I are now, as we should be, the pinnacle of all attention. And so of course the first comment out of every person who saw it was, "Whoa, somebody was hungry" and "Did you eat it all?" and so on and so on. Sadly, I must confess I did not eat all of this, not even with the help of two other friends. Perhaps one day, okay let's be honest, probably never. After all it is one huge ice cream cone.
The next most important event, after this ice cream picture of course, is the happy fact that I'm off track. I officially went off track last week, however, I spent most of the week in a math conference. Which makes it very unofficially. Truly, there is something heartwarming and hilarious about sixth grade teachers earnestly searching for new ideas on how to teach their students that 9 to the zero power is 1, and how to decompose a circle into wedges to figure out area. I must admit these are memories I cannot describe adequately. And so tomorrow officially begins my off track. I had decided to go on some little trips, but then I realized life has been crazy. I haven't really been home for months and might need to get caught up on what is going on here.
Let me illustrate how this thoughtful conclusion came to me.
Yesterday I went out to get the mail. To my astonishment, the mailboxes were all gone. My mind tried to grapple with how and where the mailboxes had gone, and then sheepishly I wondered how long they had been gone.
Next, I sat down to watch a movie. Just as I got settled in I heard, "drip, drip, drippy, drip." I could only take it so long until I began a battle with the kitchen faucet. In defeat, I looked at my roommate who calmly said this had been going on for a month. Who knew?
Lastly, as I was putting away my laundry, I noticed my favorite pink, sparkly sock. Sock as in one, that has been there for a year in hopes that I would magically find the other one in the laundry one day. Perhaps I need to clean out my closet. And the more I look around, the more I realize there is a lot to catch up on here. Of course the first thing on my list is a walk around the complex, the mailboxes can't have completely disappeared.

The Megatrons and Me

Sorry, my last post may have been a tad grouchy. It's that darn inversion. It gets me every year. However, I am here to tell you that dreams do come true. I was awakened last week to a text at 5am. It stated that the whole district was delayed 2hrs. 2 wonderful, delightful, marvelous hours. It would seem that nothing could top that, and yet the beautiful sun has also been shinning in and out of storms. That has meant snowshoeing and cross country skiing. Yeah! I even got to take my students cross country skiing. Who wouldn't love skiing and plucking kids out of the snow? It is a delight and afterwards, those little darlings said things like, "Our teacher was the only person out there who did not fall. She is a superstar." Gosh, I love those kids.
And so it was with these happy thoughts I headed down to Bryce Canyon to cross country ski with friends. Little did I know it would be different, much different. Saturday morning as we ate breakfast at the lodge, I was lost in my own thoughts about how good life was with the clean air, beautiful sun, and my health returning. Suddenly, my ears perked up to the end of the conversation that had been taking place. "Ok, so who is doing the triathlon?" When those words were said and I saw the faces around the table begin to shake yes, I knew I was in trouble, big trouble. My head began to spin, and I frantically searched every face at the table and realized to my horror that everyone there was a . . . . . "Megatron." This bit of information might fill you with panic too, if you knew what a Megatron was. Basically, it is someone who does everything with megatronical force. (The spell checker is going crazy with these great words.) However, Megatrons don't know they are Megatrons. They think they are regular people. They say they are taking things easy and just having fun, which may be the case for them, but normal people like myself, who are gasping for air, have a hard time believing this. I like the Megatrons and do things with them, however, usually in outdoor activities, I like to make sure the paparazzi are there. The paparazzi are the friends who take pictures of everything and anything. Paparazzi make it possible to pretend like you are interested in their pictures, while really you are simply trying to breathe. However, on this trip I had failed to confirm that the paparazzi were coming. Big mistake.
We got on the trail and I optimistically tried to remember my superstar skiing status. However, these people were like machines. Up the hills, around the bends, through the trees. Push, push, push. I found myself falling behind, and so in my haste I tried to speed up and fell. Which shouldn't have been a problem. Except, we were skiing in the pre-made ski tracks and when I tried to help myself up by pushing my pole into the ground outside of the ruts, it sank down, all the way down, and so did the other pole, my hand, my head, my body, everything. You might say that the snow was pretty deep there. At this point I just started laughing because have you ever tried to get up on skis after falling down without using anything to push off of? It can be a bit of a problem, especially because I knew the Megatrons were so far ahead. However, where there is a will, there is a way, and later, quite a bit later, I got up. Victory!!!! However, this was just a small indication of what was to befall me that day. You might say it was a little bit of a rough day for me. However, in the end I just let the Megatrons go ahead, because the sun was shinning, and the canyon was beautiful and I really was having a wonderful time. And even though I'm not a Megatron, that is ok, because I have been told I am a superstar.

Bad, Bad News

I really am not a complainer, and I hesitate to post this tirade, but I just received news that has sent me over the edge. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow and you know what that means. Six more weeks of winter are on the horizon. When I shared this news with my roommate, she said, "Yeah, I love winter." For goodness sake, that is what everyone around here says. I am not a hater of winter, truly I love skiing, snowshoeing, and the snow. But enough is enough. This winter has sent storm after vicious storm from gray, inversion skies. This winter instead of roads, we have ice rinks. At least they appear that way. They are all white, and all you do is slide on them. Which wouldn't be so bad if they ever closed things down and you could stay at home, but no. The weather forecaster will say, "Visibility will be nonexistent at times during the morning commute " and so I turn on my little radio with hope in my heart, but alas school is not canceled, nor will it ever be according to my optimistic principal. And so I make the trek which doubles or triples its usual time, and I enjoy my talk radio, as I watch people slide across the freeway, or as I stay in the same spot for an hour waiting for an accident to clear. Once at school, I spend the morning bus duty scooping children out of snowbanks and off of the slick sidewalks where they have fallen. I numbly go into my class where I am greeted with the announcement that it will be an inside day. That means me and the kids all day, no breaks. I really do love them, but they run back from lunch before I come back from getting papers in my box. Then they converge around my desk, eyes peering at every bite I take. Then they comment, "Yum, I love carrots, can I have a carrot? What kind of soup is that? Can I have a taste?" Next they watch like a hawk to see if I have a treat that they can sweet talk me out of. I haven't been able to sneak a treat in a month. If that isn't a good reason for winter to be through, I don't know what is. I also love the wonderful winter sounds in my classroom which go something like this, "Cough, cough, sniffle, cough, sniffle, sniffle, cough." Which inevitably makes me go, Cough, cough, sniffle, cough, sniffle, sniffle, cough. It is a tragedy. I drive home and the turn onto the street before our apartment known as "Suicide turn." Then onto the ice rink of terror where there are no parking spots, only mounds of snow. You just gun it and plow through. Unfortunately, getting out is much more difficult. However, I did see the sun yesterday and it made me cry. Okay, it might have been the fact that I was running in the freezing cold air, but I know spring will be coming sometime and this year I really, really will appreciate it. (Mom, don't worry the roads really aren't as bad as I said, I may have embellished a tad to get my point across.)

The Dog

I tend to have problems with dogs. I think they can sense my fear. I however, have never had a problem with them at church, that is until today. Simply put, I stepped on a seeing eye dog twice today at church. Honestly, this girl's dog is so good and quiet you hardly know that he is there. That is kind of the problem, I just forgot about him, and bam my foot came down on his paw. (Which was a little worse because of my pointy heels.) Needless to say he wasn't so quiet then. Everyone around me soon knew he was there. I mumbled a sorry. The dog did not look happy. I was quite watchful of him for a while, but church is a good bit of time and soon I forgot about him again. Seriously, this dog is silent, and I really think he silently snuck farther under me, because the next thing I know I uncross my leg, bring it down, and bam the dog has been hit again. He jumped up, and that normally calm, loving dog is staring me down. It kind of made me a little nervous. Anyway the last hour of church, I slid completely away from him and his owner. It may have seemed a little anti-social to both of them, but a girls got to do what a girls got to do. Afterward his owner asked me if I was allergic to him. "Oh, no." I replied. "I just have a cold and wanted to lean my head against the wall." Which was true. I however, did not mention the fact that if I hit her dog one more time, I was afraid he would attack me. And although that would have made a better story, bite marks are not very becoming.