The Christmas Cooldown

This was a blog I originally wrote in 2006 and I figured I'd repost it here.

As I have previously mentioned, I love Christmas. The problem, I've discovered, is that I get this amazing Christmas build-up and then I'm supposed to just move on as if nothing ever happened. So I propose that we have the Christmas cool-down - a period of time (the week between Christmas and New Year's) where the Christmas obsessed can slowly purge the Christmas celebration out of their system instead of quitting cold turkey

First step is the radio music. Koast and the Fish have played non-stop Christmas music for one month and then, on December 26th it's back to the same old thing. Maybe we can compromise. For cooldown week perhaps they can play a series of 'winter' songs and New Year's songs. Here is a possible play-list: Baby It's Cold Outside, Winter Wonderland, Let it Snow, What are you doing New Year's, Auld Lang Sayne. For starters. This slow dissipation will take the edge off.

Next, we have the Christmas specials on TV. I love Christmas movies, do they have to end? The answer is simply, NO! There are plenty of movies in which the story takes place over the ENTIRE holiday season. These can be shown during cooldown as well. Here are some examples: Boyfriend for Christmas (my new favorite), When Harry Met Sally, Holiday Inn, that great one I saw on Lifetime about the homeless divorcee who gets her real estate liscence (I'm not kidding, I watched it yesterday and delighted in every delicious minute of it), and I can't think of any more, but they do exist.

Now about decorations. I feel that Christmas decorations can be left up during Cooldown. It's just one week more and I spent all that time putting them up. Maybe I can just put away one decoration a day and then it won't be such a shock.

Spreading Holiday cheer. This is the worst, because people seem to lose that 'true holday spirit' by the 27th. I am not going to let this one go. I'm going to wish people a happy new year and then a happy winter and then a happy Martin Luther King Jr. day, and then a happy President's day and I'll keep finding some holiday to wish people joy. [side note: I was shopping on Dec 23rd and I was so happy because it was almost Christmas, I was done with school, and I was almost done shopping. I was smiling so big and nearly skipping on my way to Barnes and Noble (or 'home', as I like to call it). I was deliciously happy. The best part was people would stare at me and then smile back. One group of people stopped their conversations and said, "Merry Christmas!" "Merry Christmas!" I shouted back and then I really did skip. I love that kind of community joy]

So please support me in my effort to relieve my post-Christmas blues by celebrating the Christmas Cooldown. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and a wonderful New Year. And for those who celebrate various other holidays (Channukah, Kwanza, Festivus, etc) I hope that you enjoyed those as well.

I am Buddy the Elf

I was watching "Elf" again and I realized that I have so much in common with Buddy (the elf who is actually human, but raised by elves). Here's some ways in which we are similar:

1) I love sugar and I like to put sugar in lots of things (even things that don't usually have sugar)

2) I am usually happy and cheerful.

3) I like to whisper, too.

4) I get distracted by shiny things.

5) I love New York.

6) I don't sleep much (last night I got a full 45 minutes)

7) I love to decorate for Christmas.

8) I like to hug people.

9) I sing in public even when there's no song playing anywhere, even when people are around.

10) I went through the Lincoln Tunnel.

I was not raised by elves, but I do celebrate Christmas in the Reimer family, so that's practically the same thing.

My Love For Christmas Movies Grows Greater With the Hallmark Channel

Yes, Brenda, there is a Santa Claus. Apparently, the cable that comes with our HOA fees for our condo as been upgraded. Julie called me the other day and told me the great news, "Christmas has come early for you, Bren!" "What?" I asked. "We now get the Hallmark Channel!" She giggled into the phone. "Record EVERYTHING!"

To me, there is no better TV than a cheesy Christmas movie. Old or new, poorly made and funded or a beautiful classic; I've seen them all. Julie keeps trying to stump me. She'll name the actors and the title in the latest one she recorded and I can tell her the basic storyline and rate it. Tonight she turned on one and I thought for sure it was one I hadn't seen. But then it started to look familiar, "If there's a lake on the other side of that house, then I've seen this one before. I think it's one of those darker, more serious ones." Sure enough, there was a lake.

Now, I know that not all of them are great, heck, some of them are down right awful. But I love them just the same. I've decided to collect a little list of some of my top Christmas movies. I'm sure I'll leave some off the list out of pure forgetfulness on my part. No slight is intended. They are listed in no particular order.

1) White Christmas - Premise: two WWII veterans meet during the war and form a musical act that leads them to fame and fortune, but sadly also leaves them without much of a personal life. They meet the Haynes sisters and fall for them quickly. They also, unwittingly, follow them to Vermont to ski resort run by their old general who is now retired. The season is slow as the snow has not fallen. The team decided to help the old man out by holding their show at the lodge. Romance, dancing, singing, comedy, misunderstanding, and some of the best costumes in the world follow. How can you beat Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, and that really skinny blond chick? You can't. This is one of my favorite movies, period.

Rating and suggested audience: A+, everyone should see it.

2) Holiday Inn - this is the one that started it all! Premise: Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire are an entertainment team. Fred steals Bing's girl (Fred's dancing partner). Bing decides to leave the entertainment world behind and open an inn. It does poorly until he decides to open it on Holidays with a great show about that Holiday. Fred's partner leaves him and he comes to Bing's place and falls for Bing's new girl.

Best Parts: Singing and dancing for all seasons. This has the songs: Easter Bonnet and White Christmas (this is where it first came out). Bing sings and Fred dances...no more needs to be said.

Rating and suggested audience A-, people who love old movies or anyone who loves musicals.

3) A Boyfriend for Christmas - In my opinion, the best Hallmark has ever made. Premise: A young pre-teen asks Santa for a boyfriend for Christmas. He promises her one, but says she must wait 20 years. Sure enough, she grows up and still has not met mr.right. The same Santa sets her up with a handsome lawyer. All goes as it should in a Christmas movie, but some deceit that lingers and an old ex boyfriend threaten to ruin Christmas romance! No fear, it's a Hallmark movie.

Best parts: "Diane sent you a man for Christmas! Where was she when I was single?"

Rating and suggested audience: A+. any girl and some guys. It's a chick flick for sure, but a really good one.

4) Elf - the best Christmas comedy. Premise: Buddy, a human, was raised by elves in the North Pole. He later discovers that he is, in fact, not an elf and searches out his real father in New York. Christmas may be ruined, but by people believing (in some nebulous thing they must 'believe' in) Christmas is saved.

Best parts: So many quotable lines come from this movie...so many! "I just like smiling, smiling's my favorite."

Rating and suggested audience: A+ everyone

5) Miracle on 34th St. - the real one. Premise: a single mom, who works for Macy's, raises her daughter, Suzie, to be very practical and not believe in fairy tales like Santa. Santa of course comes in and changes their minds and connects the mom to the love of her life.

Best parts: When Santa speaks to the little girl in Dutch, when all the letters get delivered to Santa, when Susie runs into the house and her mother says, "Susie, you know better than to run into strange people's homes."

Rating and suggested audience: A+ everyone

6) If you believe - Premise: a book editor sours over time and alienates herself from all of her family and friends. She is bitter and has become bad at her job. On Thanksgiving, she falls and hits her head and as a result, her inner child comes out and tries to guide her back to a time where she enjoyed life and lived it. She discovers a new writer (who is also, single, charming, and handsome) and he (along with her inner child, played by Hayden Pannitierre from Heroes) bring her back to her former glory.

Best parts: I'm a book nerd, so I love the parts where they are editing the book. I don't think other people would like that part as well.

Rating and suggested audience: B-, girls

7) I'll Be Home for Christmas, A Holiday for Love, and A Holiday to Remember: Why are these three listed together? Because they are the same movie, essentially. Premise: Small town desperately needs something to save it (a new Dr, the town plant to not close, children who need saving). Big town character comes to town (sometimes their hometown) and they clash with the equally single and attractive small town character who is in opposition to them. Through the Christmas time, they grow in love and understanding and Christmas, and the town, are saved!

Best Parts: guessing correctly about what the actors will say next.

Rating and suggested audience: C-, people know what Fa La La La Lifetime is.

8) A Season for Miracles: Premise: a young woman is not allowed to take care of her drug addicted sister's two children and they will be split up for foster care. She kidnaps them and drives in her old bug to escape. Her car breaks down in a small town. The night is very cold and they decide to sleep in a beautiful home that in not currently lived in. The whole town thinks she is the dead owner's niece, come to inherit the property. She goes along with the scheme in the hopes that she can take care of her niece and nephew. She falls for the town sheriff and the town falls for her. The truth is discovered and she is still forgiven. The kids get to stay with her and she and the sheriff are reunited.

Best Parts: the cheese of the whole thing

Rating and suggested audience: B+, chicks only

There are so many more: The Christmas Card, The Christmas Box, Time piece, The Christmas Child, Single Santa Seeks Mrs. Claus and Meet the Clauses (the sequal), Midnight and Mistletoe, Eve's Christmas, A Carol Christmas, Die Hard, The Bishop's Wife (that one's such a great one, A++), The Polar Express, His and Her Christmas, The Perfect Day, The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, The Christmas Angel (creepy, don't see it), The Note and The Note II, Silent Night (about WWII), Joyeux Noel (so wonderful and a true story about WWI and an amazing Christmas Eve), and Mixed Nuts, and too many movies!! Oh, yeah the Christmas Story, A Charlie Brown Christmas, A Muppets Family Christmas, The Muppets' Christmas Carol, Rudolf, man, there isn't enough time to watch them all.

I hope you enjoy your Christmas specials this season. Let me know if you have any great ones and I'll add it to my list.

Finally Figuring Out Some Food Stuff

As many of you know, I've been going to a nutritionist (actually a naturopath) for a couple months now. Many people wondered why I was even going, I asked myself that many times. Since then, many people have asked if it's working, I asked myself that too. Today felt like a huge breakthrough for me.

One reason I decided to go is that food has always been an issue of some kind for me. I love sugar. I mean LOVE sugar. I would eat something sugary (I mean a full blown candy or cookie or dessert item) at least three or four times a day. Besides my love of sugar, there was also the problem of me being starving with hunger and unable to eat simultaneously. I would eat a few bites of something and then feel a sense that if I ate any more I wouldn't be able to swallow it, but then I was feeling famished too. An hour later I'd be starving again and try to eat only to be sick a few bites in. I didn't feel this was with string cheese, yogurt, candy, cookies, soup, or ice cream. This is why I would eat mostly these things all day long.

These past few months, I've stopped eating a lot of things that once made me feel ill. I am now able to finish entire meals. No "Brenda" portions of anything anymore. I eat whole steaks, whole chicken breasts, and all of the sides with it. The only problem is, I'm still starving. Like all the time. The good news is, I don't feel sick when I eat and I can swallow all of my food. The bad news is that despite how much I'm eating, I'm never full and I'm losing too much weight.

During today's visit with the nutritionist, we discovered the missing link that connects it all together. I have a really fast thyroid aka a really fast metabolism. I'm starving for carbs and my thyroid processes it faster than I can eat it. My body craves sugar because I'm not ever keeping any sugar. So my new regimen is to eat every three hours and to mix protein and carbs with each meal/snack. I think it is just a relief to know why my body has been doing what it's doing for all of these years. It also explains how I could eat how I did and not gain weight from it. It also explains why I'm addicted to sugar. It also helps me feel like there are solutions and I can feel full again, without feeling sick.

So no worries. I will be gaining back some of the weight I've lost and I won't be so tired after work and I'll be even happier throughout the day and my heart won't flip like it does. It's all connected and now I feel like we've found the missing piece.

Things that secretly drive teachers crazy

For me, crazy is not a far drive from where I live. So it is quite easy for me to get there. But my kind of crazy is usually a pleasant kind - not the angry kind. But sometimes, in a rare blue moon, I can break. I am patient and can put up with a lot. I was well trained by my brothers to be patient in adversity. Yet there are some things that every teacher goes through that makes them eventually want to scream. Here is a condensed list:

1) Tapping. Tapping pencils, hands, feet or anything else against a desk. This is a classic trademark of an ADD or ADHD kid and when you have a room of 30 of them, man, it gets annoying.

2) Paper torn out of a spiral notebook. It may seem trivial, but when you are stacking papers and that one with the snowy frayed edge won't mesh with the others, it sticks out at angles and drags papers with it. Bother!

3) Inappropriate questions shouted out at inappropriate times. For example: "Ms. Dempsey, why aren't you married?" or "Where did you get your shoes?" shouted out while I am mid-sentence explaining how to solve one step equations.

4)Lies. Arggh, I say. I hate when a kid lies to me and then lies about lying. I once had a kid cheat on a test and then say he didn't copy from his neighbor. The question was to make up a word problem involving d=rt and the kid copied one from his neighbor...it had the neighbor's name in the problem.

I think I'll stop writing this blog, because it's starting to feel very negative and negativity was going to be number 5. I do love my job and I do love the kids that make me go over the edge sometimes. I just wish you could have seen the kid in one of my classes who literally acted like a monkey after he was done with his test. His hands were shaking above his head and he was swinging his head back and forth and tapping his feet. He was acting this way because I asked him to stop tapping at least 5 times in a row that day and he knew that if his hands were down, he would tap again. I wish I had had a camera to tape it. I just stared at him and had to laugh...at least he wasn't tapping.

Year After Year the Kids Seem the Same

The first two weeks of school are always interesting. The kids are getting to know you and you are getting to know them. Each period has a personality that shows itself pretty early on. Some kids seem to show their personalities pretty early too. I realized that after having a total of about 1,600 students, many seem very similar to each other. Here are some kid categories I've noticed:

1) The inappropriate question/timing kid - this is the kid who blurts out questions in the middle of the teacher talking and usually those questions are of a personal nature. This year, I have a couple of those and here are some example questions, "Where did you get your shoes?", "What's your favorite band?", or my favorite, "Will you tell us stories about your ex-boyfriends? Our last teacher did." My response to these kinds of questions is usually, "you can ask me that after school, but this is not the appropriate time." For the last one I just said, "NO!" in a disgusted voice.

2) The eager to pleaser kid - this kid just loves his or her teacher and wants his/her teacher to love him/her back. They will offer to clean the board, pass out papers, give complements and smile a lot.

3) The too cool for school kid - this kid just wants to sit back and be quiet and not be disturbed. They are too cool for anything as babyish as enjoying class or participating.

4) The straight A kid - they have studied the book over the summer, they panic over every test and usually must have everything be known. Any unknowns cause the student to panic and rapid fire questions to their teacher. "What are we learning today? The board says we're learning about equations. Are we solving equations or writing equations? Will we need to know exponents? Are we graphing them?"

5) The blurter - this kid is so excited to know the answer that he must shout it out at any time. Sometimes he'll raise his hand as he is shouting, in an effort to follow the rules.

6) The tapper - Oh, the joys of hearing 30 pencils tapped rhythmically on 30 separate desks to 30 separate beats - simultaneously. This kid is often also the can't sit in your seat kid. They can be found wandering the classroom for who knows what reason. Sometimes it's to sharpen the pencil that they will then use to start tapping again.

There are too many more to list. I can't keep them all straight.

What I love about Jr. High is the diversity of maturity levels. I have kids who speak like adults and have deep thoughts about deep concepts. I have students who are in the middle and one day will be playing with toys and the next discussing who said what about whom. I have students who still tell their teachers they love them and want to hold their hand.

This year my kids are full of love and kindness. I have students who thank me daily for teaching them and not in a kissy way. I have kids who ask great questions and are polite to each other. They seem to be full of kindness for me and for each other. They are also full of energy, so I'm just done at the end of each day. And yet, I have time each day to pause and just be thankful for a job where I can do what I love and meet such interesting people.

Grocery shopping: Day 1 of new foods

So now that I've invested in this whole food adventure, I had to shop for food that I could actually eat. I have three favorite stores in my life. These are places that bring me joy even as I drive past them. In reverse order they are :
3)Barnes and Noble
2)Ann Taylor Loft
1) VONS

That's right. I love VONS more than the LOFT. Really. I love the checkers, especially Doris and Charlie. I love the flowers and produce and seeing people I know. I love that I can buy food and cleaning supplies and deodorant and videos all at the same place. Rick, my favorite neighborhood homeless man, and I have our best interactions there.

But now I cannot go to VONS. I must go to places farther away with checkers who don't know me and with aisles that I don't have memorized. It is Trader Joe's, which is an exceptional store that I do love to go to on Sundays and also Whole Foods which is featured on "Top Chef" so it has to be cool.

One of my favorite shows is "What Not to Wear". It's a show about people who don't dress well who are then given a set of rules by fashion experts which they must follow on their first day of shopping alone. Halfway through the shopping trip I realized that this is what it must feel like to be one of those shoppers. I would pick up a box and ask myself, "does this have wheat? gluten? corn?" and sometimes I would have no idea if it was ok or not.

I was able to come up with alternatives for a couple of my favorite food choices, including the idea for a mac and cheese made out of raw cheese (non-pasteurized). I just needed to find raw cream and some macaroni that was gluten free. Both of which I did not find at Trader Joe's. We did find a lot there and some other benefits included:
1) friendly workers
2) really great and inexspensive flowers
3) lots of options for our newly restricted diet
4) some prices that were comparable to what we were used to

We went to Whole Foods next to pick up some things on our list: a specific brand of lunch meat, raw milk, raw cream, gluten free pasta, and maybe some more cheese. The place is sure beautiful. It is spacious and fancy and has prices to match. I found the prettiest mushrooms I've ever seen that were also $29 a pound (which I did not buy).

We found the raw milk and cream and almost died from shock and the prices. They did come in a glass bottle and the cream was so beautiful looking. I felt like a cow named Bessie, wandering the English countryside, had relinquished this milk to a nice, lanky farmer straight into this jar. So beautiful. And now I can make ice cream and whipped cream and mac and cheese...except that one pint of the stuff is $11.99!!! So I think that the cream needed for ice cream would be basically $36. That would be some ice cream. Maybe I should just buy a cow, does that fit in our housing rules? The milk was good and did taste a little like grass as the surfer dude in front of us in line mentioned...what kind of grass did he mean?



I cooked two meals today from our newly acquired food. The first was a tangerine chicken on a bed of whole brown rice with a side of green beans. The second was steak fajitas with my own fajita seasoning, black beans, two kinds of cheddar cheese, tomatoes, and carmelized onions, on a brown rice tortilla. I did kind of miss the sour cream and the tortilla's should have been heated so they could fold better, but all in all, not too bad.




I did also go to a wedding today where I had to search each little table to try to find things I could eat. I ended up with a plate of berries, snap peas, and a tomato and olive. It was good, but I really wanted one of those little quiches or some sherbet punch! Cake is easy for me to resist, so that wasn't a problem.

So here are the lessons I've learned today:
1) I have a newfound respect for anyone who has dieted. It is stinking hard to do and I've only been doing it for a day!
2) I will not be restricted in my creativity in some ways. Yes, I must read labels now and be more aware of what I'm putting in my body. So although I did think that some sugar in the beans would taste pretty good and I resisted and couldn't try that, I have a whole new field of ingredients to work with and understand.
3) Eating healthy is exspensive.
4) 38 pills a day is a whole lot
5) I'm hungry more often, but maybe that's because my body is actually able to digest the food I'm eating.

I'm excited about breakfast. We'll see how the shakes go tomorrow.

I'm still digesting (the pun is grossly intended)

I eat like a two year old. I eat whatever I want whenever I want for as long as I want. I give very little consideration to how what I eat affects my body and how I feel afterward. I don't overeat, but I certainly don't eat well. There is one exception that I've always felt a sense of pride over. I don't drink caffeine because it messes with my heart. That is probably the only time in my life I have ever denied myself food. I don't even know if I have self control because I've never tried to have self control. I want another helping of ice cream, so I get it. I want a snickers for lunch - done. I'm addicted to sugar and cheese and I could probably be satisfied with both of those (and an occasional pizza) for the rest of my life.

My roommate, Julie, has been sleepy for 2 years. She's gone to doctors, taken vitamins, and exercises diligently (while I sit on the couch eating desserts). Nothing has helped. We've joked that it's actually radon poisoning or she's been bitten by a Tsi-Tsi fly that came back with me from Africa. Deep down, we've both suspected that it might have something to do with her food choices.

So one of my coworkers has been going to a nutritionist for a long time now. She loves this woman. Despite some of the interesting, less traditional methods, my coworker has seen amazing changes in her life because of this woman. So Julie and I decided to go.

The week of the appointment I was getting very nervous. I knew that she would tell me that I couldn't have sugar and probably that I couldn't have dairy. I was trying to picture something I eat that doesn't have either of those, and I came to one conclusion - I was going to starve.

Julie's appointment was first and she came home with a bag full of supplements and a list of food she couldn't eat for a while. I started to panic. I didn't realize how much I love my horrible eating practices until they were going to be taken from me. Years I have spent learning how to bake the best chocolate chip cookies I could. I have made dessert after dessert and I've gotten pretty good at them. I also love experimenting with foods. I make Italian dinners and fill them with the best kinds of cheeses I can find. I've put lots of time and effort into learning how to be a decent cook and now it was over.

My appointment was a mixture of trepidation on my part and extreme interest. A woman in the lobby complimented my ridiculously small purse and we started a conversation. Turns out, she's the doctor's sister and they haven't seen each other in a year. Well, I just love family reunions - so good so far.

Next was some test using pressure points on my hands and feet and some electric machine. I was looking at the screen and questioning the aptitude of the girl running it when I realized that she was on the wrong finger, twice. I pointed out this possibility and she sort of fixed it. I was not so sure...

Then I went into the next room and the doctor's sister asked if she could sit in on my appointment because she hadn't seen her sister work. I honestly had no problem with this, so I said sure. I went through a series of Western and Eastern tests. Most seemed logical and some seemed a little kooky, but the most interesting one was the muscle test.

I lay on the table with my right arm perpendicular to my body. She would push down on that arm and I would try to resist it. Not too bad so far. Then she pushed on different organs and pressure points while pushing on my arm. Sometimes I was able to resist and sometimes not. Apparently, my spleen is inflamed.

Then she put vials of extracts of different foods and would continue the process. Sometimes my arm went down and sometimes I could resist. This determined my food sensitivities which include: wheat, gluten, sugar, and pasteurized milk products. Basically no more ice cream and string cheese.

She did at one point ask me if I was a smoker or did dope. I was offended at the accusation because I am such the anti-drug person. I am like a red ribbon week freak. I tell strangers to stop smoking, for goodness sake. Then she told me she asked because my heart was beating so fast (and not from frustration at her asking the question). I told her that was normal for me. So she said she would take care of that too.

Then she put a collection of pills in bottles on my stomach. She did the arm test and started taken bottles and putting them back on depending on if my arm was able to resist or not. After that she put some pills in my hand to determine dosage. She would add or take away until my arm was able to resist. This led to me taking 38 "whole food supplements" a day! Not to mention the powdered whey that I'll be taking to help with protein and calcium intake.

So at the end of the day I was wondering a few things: 1) Is she a kook that I just paid a lot of money to for no real reason? 2) Will I really be able to stick with this drastic change? 3) Will it actually improve my quality of life enough to justify all of this work?

I went through one day of adjusted eating and the answers felt like: 1)maybe 2)not more than one day 3) probably not. Of course that was trying to eat without grocery shopping for new food. 10:00 was the hardest because all I wanted was to pig out on my midnight snack usuals: string cheese, granola bar, yoplait orange creme, ice cream...all of which are now verboten.

I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

Joy is tapping my shoulder

So it may be hard for any of you to tell, but I've been down for a while. Like a couple months. It's been a tough half a year for my family in many ways and it's been a tough half year for many of my friends. I am a total empathetic person, so I share other people's pain. But last night was a turning point for me of sorts. I went outside late last night with a blanket and no shoes and I laid out under a tree in the grass. I closed my eyes and let the breeze blow over me and I let myself just be. I tried to quiet all of the dissenting voices in my head that try to plan and worry and I tried to just be still and know.

I was brought back to when I was a little girl and I was so full of joy, it almost felt like I would burst from it. It bothered me as a child that I couldn't hug God. I love hugs and especially bear hugs from the strong men in my life, so it seemed sad that God and I couldn't hug. I used to pray that God would hug my heart, since that's where He lives and I could feel God hugging my heart and I would smile with joy. So last night as I lay on that warm blanket on the soft grass and I felt that soothing breeze roll over my bare toes, I felt like that little girl. I prayed that God would help me feel that He was near and the breeze blew even stronger and I prayed that God would hug my heart and He did.

I cried, but they were good tears. There was my God, patiently loving me. There He was as always and there He will always be. No wonder I was so joyful as a little girl, I felt this close to God every day! So now, as an adult, I want to recapture that spirit. So here is my list of resolutions (little shout out to Jonathan Edwards and my dad) that will help me be joyful in all circumstances.

1) Resolved: I will take a moment every day to be still before the Lord. To be Mary and not Martha. To not try to solve all my problems and all of the problems of the world, but just to enjoy His presence.

2) Resolved: I will remember my blessings and count them and be thankful for them.

3) Resolved: I will not be the pouting princess crying for more. I will pray that God will make me more than content, but joyful in His will.

4) Resolved: I will do at least one thing every day that is productive or worthy.

5) Resolved: I will try to spread joy to those around me. I will do this by my words and deeds. I will choose words that uplift and instruct and not words that criticize or bring down. I will avoid gossip in all forms. I will find something good in everyone.

So there it is. And as I am sometimes brought low by the things in this world that are hard or sad or maddening, I will try to remember that I have no power or control over any of that. And that the God who does, loves me as He did when I was a little girl. His love has never changed for me. To Him I am still that bubble of joy bursting to share this joy with others.

Lessons to be learned from Romeo and Juliet: the ballet

I just returned from the best ballet I've ever seen. It was beautifully done and very enjoyable. It was also based on my favorite play: Romeo and Juliet. By favorite I mean I memorized the balcony scene (both parts) when I was 12. I made my family and friends reenact the play (my own version) on video (with costumes) for my 9th birthday. I was Romeo and was directing even while dead. I was in Romeo and Juliet my senior year in high school (as the Nurse). I really like it. But tonight, as I was watching the ballet, I wondered why I like it so much. It doesn't seem like my kind of story: fickleness in love, tragic endings, miscommunications... so here are some life lessons I garnered from my more mature perspective on this story:

1) Hasty decisions are seldom good ones.

2) Angry men with swords are a bad combination.

3) Communication is key, especially when poison is involved.

4) Boys shouldn't be named Paris.

5) If you think the love of your life is dead and you want to end your life too, just wait a little bit longer...you never know what might happen.

6) If you want to get "in" with your girl's family, don't kill the favorite cousin. It kind of makes them mad.

7) If your new husband is banished, skip town with him.

8) Romeo was a player. "I love Rosaline, wait, who's that hot chick?" Yeah, what's so great about him again?

9) A Pas de Deux is much more beautiful and impressive when one of the partners is dead.

10) Every girl needs a knee length, light pink, chiffon skirt to twirl in.

More things my kids have said

I was going through my papers I brought home from work and found some papers on which I've written funny things my kids have said. Here's a sampling.

1) "I had my homework this morning, but then I had too much pie and I lost it."

2) Bryan entered my class just after PE. He called to his friend from across the room, "Smell my PE shirt, it smells like a man!"

3) While speaking in a British accent, my student and I had a conversation.
Me: You sound so intelligent, sophisticated.
Her: Yes, it's like glasses for your voice.

4) "Ah the sweet smell of second period!"

5)Me: "I've been to every one of Josh Groban's concerts in Southern California...but I'm not obsessed. Not like some of his fans."
Kevin: "Like the ones who go to every concert?"

6)student 1: "Arnold Schwarzenagger, who's that?"
Me: "He's our governor and a famous actor."
student 1: "Really?"
student 2: "Yeah, he's from Germany."
student 3: "No, he's from Australia."
Me: "He's from Austria and speaks German."
student 1: "Is Austria the same as Australia?"

7) "Insurance money is good motivation for murder, you know."

8) An: "If chocolate releases endorphins and exercise releases endorphins, why can't people just eat chocolate?"

9) Me: If you say "Youler" instead of "Oiler" other mathematicians will laugh at you.
Anna: Where is this math community you speak of?

10) Ty: "Do you ever even think bad thoughts?"
Me, dripping with sarcasm: "No, my mind is as pure as the driven snow."
Nicole: "I believe it Ms. Dempsey. You're like a saint. You're like the Virgin Mary!"
Me: "Thanks?"

People who don't understand why anyone would want to teach Jr. High just need to see this snapshot of my life with these kids. I never stop laughing.

Things kids write

Have I mentioned that I love my job? Well, I do. This was the last week of school which is also fun because it's the drama time. Everyone gets so emotional about saying goodbye and leaving school - I love it! I got to read names this year at graduation. I love to do this because I look at each kid as I say his/her name and smile at them. If I've had them, I pat them on the shoulder or smile tenderly at them. I thought for sure I would get emotional about some of my geometry kids. I love that bunch and they work so hard. I develop such a fun relationship with that group, but I didn't cry while saying their names. No, it was the two boys who caused me the most pain and difficulties last year that made me get choked up. I looked into their faces and realized that despite all of the pain and difficulties in their lives, they had actually passed eighth grade. Maybe because the challenge for them was greater so the success was more sweet or maybe because I hoped that my class was a chance for them to see kindness and love, but whatever the reason, these boys made me tear up.

My favorite moment of graduation was after all the names were read. Our principal thanked Dee Brundage, a teacher who is retiring this year, for her service to our kids. She is the only 7th grade science teacher on our campus so she has had every student. After the principal said this, about 1/4 of the students instantly stood up and cheered for her. The standing ovation quickly spread to the entire graduating class and lasted for over a minute. I thought, "Now this is a testament to a great teacher." Each student loved her so much. She really was the nicest teacher on campus...and now that she's gone...it's my chance to steal the throne. Bwaa haa haa!

This year I received many letters and notes of thanks. I even received flowers from several kids (my favorite kind of gift!). I thought I would immortalize some of the nice things my kids have written to or about me (directly quoted with spelling and punctuation):

1) I couldn't ask for a better teacher! (cos' there is none!) :) I can say that you are my most favorite teacher! :) You have alot to offer, and I love how your so happy all of the time! Thank you for everything.

2) How could I live without MATH?

3) One teacher deserves an apple, but Ms. Dempsey deserves the whole tree. Best teacher, Ms. Dempsey is her name! She's my geometry teacher and an awesome math wizard. She's awesome, crazy, smart, nerdy, pretty, cool, weird, outgoing, creative, stylish etc. She's the best! Every day, she has a simle on and always cheers everyone up in her class. She's a twilight freak and loves Hish School Musical. She even makes a math lesson fun! How? Well, one interesting way is she imitates a foreign accent to get our attention. Another way is making boring math formulas into happy songs. That's very creative and makes the classroom a very fun place to be in. I love Ms. Dempsey. On thing that surprised me is that she isn't married! She's wonderful to be with and extremely smart! I have never had a teacher like this and I wish I would meet more teachers like her! I can express my feelings to Ms. Dempsey and I trust her. She is a MAJOR NERD; which is awesome! She loves using expo markers of every color. She has good taste in music and loves singing. She's an excellent singer, even though she rarely sings in class. She takes time in her lessons because she cares about her student's education. Everyone loves her and she loves everyone that loves her. She will always be there for her students. That is what makes her the teacher to write about.

Can you believe that last one? I should have this girl write an ad for me! I especially love that I am stylish, have good taste in music, and she is surprised I'm not married. So funny.

Well, for one who's love language is verbal praise, this is certainly an encouraging time of year. I love my job (have I mentioned that before?).

My Summer To Do List

I love lists and I love summer. So what better to do than make a list about my summer plans?
Here are my goals for this summer:

1) Go to Kenneth and Tammy's wedding.

2) Turn thirty.

3) Go to Hoboken, New Jersey. Why, you ask? Why not, I say! It's cheap.

4) Sleep in... a lot!

5) Read a book or two.

6) Play with Madison and Michael and Natalie.

7) Clean out my garage. This is quite a task. Somehow my garage has exploded a little bit at a time. I have half empty storage boxes and stuff from the bathroom project at church all over. And somehow I squeeze my car in. What a relief it will be to have it clean!

8) I want to buy myself something from Tiffany's. This is a ridiculous expenditure. Do I need diamonds? No! Pearls?No. Something pretty that comes in a little blue box?...no? Yeah, I can maybe be convinced that spending money that could feed starving children is worth it. It's a pretty, blue box!

9) Go to Stanton Park. Now that I've finally found the entrance (it took my three years of curiosity to find it), I have to go. It looks so pretty.

10) Play Uno with my grandma once a week. Or any other card games. My grandma loves games and she consistently wins while seeming to not understand how to play. I especially love to play Oh,Nuts! with her. She's so good and gets way into it.

11) Go to Vegas to visit Dana's sister and see the Cirque de Solei : Love. It's crazy French circus performers doing crazy French circus performances to Beatles music. That's what I call awesome!

12) I want to learn how to cook something cool. I don't know what yet, but it will be impressive, probably made with lots of sugar, and expensive. If you're lucky, I'll let you try it.

13) Teach VBS. In person! I was out of town for our church's vacation Bible school last year and had to record my lessons. Recording was fun, but it will be more fun live.

14) I will be in town for Natalie's birthday!! I was in Switzerland when Natalie was born and Uganda for her first birthday. As exotic as that sounds, I'm really very sad that I wasn't there for those two important days. I'm going to spoil her rotten that day (shocking, I know!).

15) 4th of July picnic!! The best picnic of the year. We have games and sing songs and have the yearly egg toss that always ends well.

16) Celebrate Bastille day...and my mom's birthday...simultaneously.

So there's my jam packed summer :)

Building my BBQ

Growing up, my cousins received a lot of Legos. We would play legos all the time. My favorite was when they would get a brand new lego set and we played "Lego school". Of course, I made them play school because I was the overbearing, teacher obsessed older cousin. Each level of the Lego construction was considered a grade and we would complete each level together.

Little did I know how helpful those strange diagrams with no words would be. Today I finally purchased the propane gas tank for my mini BBQ my parents bought for me two Christmas' ago. I invited my friend Dana over for steaks (which I haven't made since I moved out) and opened the BBQ to get started.

Out poured this large series of baggies and metal pieces, complete with a novel sized instruction manuel. I wasn't prepared for construction, but I followed along each step carefully and just like Lego school, I graduated from each step to the next. It only took me about twenty minutes to put together and I was pretty proud.

I then preheated the stove, didn't blow anything up, and even cooked some pretty good steaks. I'm excited to start BBQing again. The one problem is that this makes me even more anxious for summer as I dream of what I will BBQ next: perhaps bananas with chocolate chips inside...

My summer reading list

Every summer I decide to read a lot of different books. I usually start many of them and finish the easy ones. Here is a partial list for this summer:

1) David Copperfield (It's my summer classic...it was my summer classic from a few summers ago. I finally got past the first chapter)

2) The Percy Jackson series - it's a series of books that mixes a little bit of Harry Potter with Greek mythology.

3) Conspiracy in Kiev - a suspense novel

4) Something Borrowed - no comment

5) Miss Match - see above

6) Things Not Seen - a junior novel about a kid who just turns invisible one day.

7) Gone with the Wind - a perennial on my list because I once did a book report on it with out actually reading it and I've felt guilty ever since. One day I will finish it.

8) Midnight in Madrid - the sequel to Conspiracy in Kiev

9) Broken Angel - a loan from my dad

10) Turning the Paige - a sequel to another CCRN I read this year.

11) The Secret Life of Bees - on loan from Hannah

12) Breakfast at Tiffany's - ibid

13) Sovay - a robin hood story only with a girl

14) Life of Pi - on loan from Jane

15) The Abolition of Man by CS Lewis

16) Idols of the Heart - a great book so far about how we make other things gods in our lives

17) The Land - the is the sequel to Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry and the book that my students read for Academic Pentathlon.

18) Just Jane - a first-person telling of a Jane Austen pseudo-autobiography.

19) The Invisible Wall - Shannon Vincent loaned it to me and it will be depressing. I think I'll surround this one with very fluffy books.

20) Against All Odds - the heroes of Quantico series: FBI agents, romance, the ultimate in Cheesy Christian Romance Novels.

I've got a lot of reading to do. I bet that I'll not read half of them and then find some new series that I devour instead. I love summer reading!

Bibliophilia: the first step is admitting you have a problem.

I've come to the realization that I have an addiction. It's not to a controlled substance, but to books. I've always had a love for books, but it was only today, after reading led me to a trip to the doctor's, that I realized it is a problem. Here is a checklist to help screen other possible addicts. Let me know where you fall.

1) You have books in every room of the house including closets.

2) When you move, books take up the most space.

3) You sacrifice closet space, coveted under bed storage, and floor space to store your books and you still have piles.

4) The thought of a library causes you a special thrill.

5) You have read a book at stop lights while driving.

6) You have a special spot in the library or bookstore where you feel happiest.

7) You keep several books next to your bed of different types so you can read what best suits your mood at the time.

8) There are several books that you have favorite chapters and can turn to those favorite spots in a matter of moments if you just need a quick fix.

9) While watching a movie based on one of your favorite books, you like to keep a copy of the book nearby to check for correlative compatibility.

10) You have a credit card that allows you to get discounts on your books.

11) While at the bookstore, you make recommendations to strangers.

12) People have mistakenly assumed you worked at said bookstore and have asked you for help...and you didn't deny it and helped them anyway.

13) You like the smell of books and can tell the difference between an old book and a new one by smell alone.

14) You own multiple copies of the same book, just because you like it so much.

15) You feel compelled to buy a book every time you enter a bookstore.

16) You have the floor plan of a bookstore memorized and have route within it.

17) Despite warnings from your father's best friend all growing up, you read in the dark.

18) You often have fallen asleep with a book.

19) You have often had to look for a book lost in the covers the next morning.

20) Reading so much impaired your vision.

21) Reading with your contacts caused your eye to start twitching and forced you to see the eye doctor and have her tell you to read without your contacts.

22) You almost cried because you were afraid she was going to tell you to read less.

23) You bring a book with you wherever you go.

24) You feed your addiction while trying to get others to join in...first one's free, kid.

25) You've written a blog about your addiction to books.

So total your score and multiply by 4. Can you guess what mine was?

Clubbing it

I am a sucker. I know this. If you don't know this, ask me for a favor or invite me somewhere that is important to you and see how much of a sucker I am. Now, if you are a child then there is no hope for me.

Two of my former students invited me to a concert their band was performing in. I bought a ticket under the premise that several other teachers were going. Their band is a scream metal band with a name that I don't want to repeat here because it offends me. By the day of the concert only one other teacher and I were left standing and willing to go.

Jeri and I carpooled to the club (my first trip to a club ever...I might have been in one in Europe...) and had a great time talking along the way. We neared the club and certainly felt in the rock element. Picture Tijuana, then add several car repair shops with tires lining the front of the spray painted signs. Now between an "adult" shop and a skate board shop in a brick building with smokers puffing away out front is an under-18 club. This was our destination.

"We don't stick out at all," Jeri whispered as we neared the door. I had to turn off the urge to direct and advise every kid we saw. The room for the concert was a fair size and the stage was just being set up for our kids. Several students were in the audience and some were embarrassed to have us there, but most were excited that we would come.

"Why don't they have any chairs?" Jeri asked.

"For the mosh pit," I replied. I don't know if she heard me or understood, but she soon would.

I passed out the earplugs and our kids started playing. They actually were not that bad. I was most impressed with their ability to play and simultaneously head-bang. They had some really good guitar riffs and the bass player kept a good rhythm. Their drummer certainly had talent. I could not make any sense of their "singer". I feel like I have a generous appreciation of music. I can appreciate music that I don't enjoy and see the difficulties in things that I wouldn't really want to listen to. I don't get the screaming.

I could only distinguish a few words in every song and it was mostly one that begins with 'f'. For the most part it reminded me of Wakko Warner from Animaniacs. Animaniacs was a great cartoon on the WB that had two Warner bros. and their sister, Dot. Wakko would often do weird things including burping classical pieces. He would belch out instrumental songs while wearing a tux and taking a break to drink carbonated soda. This is EXACTLY what it sounded like.

There were moments where I would look around and my heart would break at the choices some kids were making. I seriously considered counseling two girls in short jean shorts, torn t-shirts worn off one shoulder and 4 inch heels. My heart broke for them, "There's more to life and love than what you think!" I wanted to scream.

I held it all in and made it through the set with my poor hearing well preserved. The boys were so excited that their teachers made the effort to show their support and it was neat to see them put so much effort into something positive.

As I was introduced to the band, the drummer said the f-word and my student looked at me. I didn't reprimand, because he wasn't mine. But then my student said, "That's right we're not in school, I can saw whatever the 'f' I want." I gave him my teacher look and said, "Do you think that means anything?" He didn't swear again at me.

The boys were so happy and I was glad to see them in their element. I know it was certainly their element and not mine, but then again, maybe I've always been the awkward adult among a crowd of kids...

More strange things about me and Julie

I love spy stuff. I love spy movies and tv shows and the spy museum in D.C. If it didn't involve lying and guns, I'd totally be spy. So it makes sense that I would love the show, Chuck. I didn't start watching until the second season was started, so I had to netflix the first season and get caught up. Julie and I both just loved it. The hilarious comedic timing, the nerdiness of many of the characters, and the good natured attitudes of the 'good guys' really made me excited to watch it.

Julie bought the first season on DVD so that we could watch it again and as we were finishing up an episode I had an epiphany, "Julie, we are Chuck and Morgan!" "No!" She replied. "Think about it, we're best friends who know everything about each other. We are total nerds like they are, but in a Jane Austen kind of way" [although we do like out share of Sci-Fi and we laugh at all of the nerd references...] "Seriously, we can quote every line from every Jane Austen film and from most classic musicals and if you had a fake spy boyfriend, he would come to our Halloween party dressed as Mr. Darcy and we would both drool over him."

She laughed and then we had to make the difficult decision, who was Chuck and who was Morgan? Neither of us really want to be Morgan. Julie has imdb in her head. She can recall any movie someone has been in just by seeing their name in the credits. It's like have a flash from the intersect. I have a ridiculously busy schedule that sometimes makes my friends and relatives frustrated because I am not always available when needed, just like Chuck. Neither of us was betrayed by our college roommate (we were each other's roommate). We couldn't decide so we are calling ourselves Muck and Chorgan. It just seemed fair.

Also on the strange roommate front, Julie and I went kayaking this last week. It didn't end in death or dismemberment, but it was pretty close. We borrowed Uncle Dal's kayaks and went from the Balboa bay to the bouey at the mouth of the bay. This is our usual route and it was a perfect day for it. The sun was shining and the water wasn't crowded at all.

As we neared the mouth of the bay and started entering the ocean, the wind picked up and the waves started white capping. "Is it a little rough out here?" Julie asked.

"No, we'll be fine. It's not that bad," I replied in my snobbish confidence I have whenever I talk about the ocean.

"So I'm not going to capsize?"

"No, just keep your boat perpendicular to the waves and you'll be fine."

A wave came and splashed over Julie, covering her with water. We both laughed over it and hoped that she would dry by the time we got back. We turned toward the bouey, angling our boats a little awkwardly. Julie turned to say something to me and suddenly she was flipped around, upside down.

I hate to admit that my first thought was, Can she breathe? but then I instantly thought, I don't want to jump in and get wet!

Julie swam to my kayak and I paddled her back to hers. I flipped it over and rescued her sweater. I then wedged Julie in between my kayak and hers. She pushed on the inner sides of my kayak and hers while I balanced it out by pressing on the outer edges of each. She pulled herself in and miraculously we were successful on our first try without so much as a splash. I was able to rescue one of her flip flops and we paddled back slowly to the bay.

I was impressed with our ability to remain calm and to get back in the boat. God certainly was helping us because I had no idea what I was doing. We had a pathetic walk of shame back to the beach house barefoot and dripping wet, Julie more so than I. We also had some good laughs about how lightly we took the warnings of others that morning about being careful and getting wet.

Later Uncle Dal commented on how the wind looked pretty strong and he wasn't sure if he would have gone out to the ocean in such conditions. Despite the harrowing experience, it was actually a lovely day. I was reminded of my constant admonition from my father every time we surfed together, "Be afraid of the ocean." It may be beautiful and a wonderful and relaxing place to play, but you should never lose your fear of its power and strength.

I'll let you know when Muck and Chorgan strike again.

The Eulogy I Gave at My Grandpa's Funeral

John Vivian Reimer was born January 26, 1923 in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He was third in a line of 8 children. He grew up in Ontario during the depression and yet, his childhood seemed happy. He has told many stories of playing with his friends in the bush, which was a protected wilderness area. His friends called him Viv, a shorter version of his middle name. He thought this was his real name for much of his childhood.

John eventually joined the RCAF, royal Canadian air force, during WWII, and was an Air Force Pilot and Gunner. He served his country while stationed in Canada and England. John was in the Air Force from Oct. 13, 1942 – February 25, 1946. He left the Air Force with an Honorable Discharge and a rank of Flight Sergeant. He was awarded the Air Gunners badge on September 10, 1944. his medals included a Canadian Volunteer Service Medal with Clasp, and a War Medal for the years 1939-1945. While stationed in England, John had one episode of hand to hand combat. He was on guard duty and a drunk, allied soldier trespassed where he wasn’t supposed to be. John warned him to leave and the man walked into John’s bayonet. The man survived.

His brother Ken had a friend Art with a beautiful sister, Margaret. The two friends thought their siblings would hit it off as a couple so they arranged for a blind date. John and Margaret went to Casa Loma, a beautiful Castle in Ontario. There was a dance that night and they were to attend. John fell in love at first sight. The two corresponded while John was shipped out. John was head over heels and it took Margaret a little bit longer to make a decision, but on February 14, 1948 they were finally married. Their love affair was one for the story books.

After John got back home he attended the Ryerson Institute, where he studied to architectural drafting. After school he got a job at the T Eaton co in the heating and furnace dept since architectural jobs were hard to find. He also worked in his brother Ken’s jewelry shop.

In the early 1950’s Diane was born. The family decided to take a trip to CA and they liked it so much, they decided to stay. They moved across the continent to Long Beach. They began to attend First Presbyterian, which later became Faith OPC. They were both active members, John was ordained as a deacon and helped to remodel and maintain the church building.

Soon another daughter, Carol, was born. She was brought straight from the hospital to their new home, a Cliff May ranch-style home by El Dorado park. The young family continued attending the same church. Grandpa worked as a draftsman for Moffat and Nichol Engineers in Long Beach for 34 years where he was able to use his architectural skills, amazing creativity and careful precision in his designs and plans. They added two more children to their family with the births of Nancy and David.

My goal today is to honor my grandfather. He was a genuinely good man. I’ve just read some of the facts about Grandpa’s life, but I also want to share with you some of Grandpa’s qualities, his personality. There isn’t near enough time, space, or words to express all of the wonderful things that made Grandpa unique, but I will try to do him justice.

First of all, Grandpa was a dreamer. He was always planning, always drawing, always designing. He was always so generous with his time and talent. It was his pleasure to help anyone with remodeling and design. All you had to do was ask, and Grandpa would create several plans and options and beautiful drawings. He was a dreamer who was actually talented enough to follow through with his dreams. He designed additions to his home, he drew up plans for remodels on the church, he designed an exterior light fixture for his house that required three different perspectives and a cost summary, he designed a castle for me complete with secret passages. He was so creative and so capable. He was always dreaming about the ‘what if’.

On driving trips, if we passed a field of land Grandpa would say, “I would love to buy a piece of land like that and design a home for each of the kids and then we could all live their together. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He would have explained his idea with a little more detail than I did, but that gives you a picture of his mind. He was never tired of thinking, planning, and dreaming.

He was an easy man to rile if you knew his triggers. Just mention Frank Ghery or post-modern architecture (as if he thought there was such a thing) and you could get Grandpa talking with passion. Grandpa was an architect and an artist. He liked architecture that was elegant, functional, and naturally beautiful. He liked all things that were elegant, functional, and naturally beautiful, just look at the woman he married. Grandpa admired Frank Lloyd Wright and encouraged all of us to have an eye for design.

Grandpa loved his work and did it well. As times changed and computerized drafting was introduced as a replacement for hand drawing, Grandpa took the course offered by his employer. He studied hard and even studied after hours and was the only one of his company to graduate from the training. His title was draftsman, but his heart was in design and often he was able to do both. He designed marina’s, villa’s, and even condo’s in Colorado that won awards.

Part of what made Grandpa so good at his job was his precision. Grandpa was precise in everything he said and did. He earned the inspector’s stamp of approval on all of his blue prints quite quickly. Every detail was accurate and with out excess. This could sometimes be a point of frustration when talking with Grandpa because he would often pretend to be confused by your lack of precision. Grandpa would often question a statement someone made by saying, “What do you mean by ‘pencil’?” and he would force you to precise even if he knew what you were saying.
He was careful with details and took his time measuring, calculating, making decisions, and even when speaking. Although this could sometimes be frustrating, it often made for great results.

The other reason why Grandpa was so good at his job was because of his artistic skill. Grandpa could sketch anything. He often sketched portraits for school projects for his kids and grandkids. Teachers were so amazed at his pictures, some would confiscate them and use them in their classrooms. Grandpa could always be found sketching something. A pencil and a scrap of paper was all he needed to create his constant flow of drawings.

Grandpa was not only good at his job, he was a family man.

Grandpa came to everything. I mean everything. There wasn’t a hockey game, soccer game, volleyball tournament, academic competition, spelling bee, concert, school play, musical, track meet, awards ceremony, graduation, presentation, wedding, birthday party, going away party, welcome home party, or any other event that he missed for all of his children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren. He was a family man extraordinaire. His love and devotion for his family not only rested with his children, but filtered down the generations. He babysat my brothers and me when our mom was sick. He drove us to school and then to the hospital day after day. He babysat his great-grand kids once a week and they loved him as much as he loved them. He and Grandma have shown each of us the importance of family and what it means to put your words of love in action. He gave us faithful devotion and sacrificed hours of his time and he did so with joy. He loved us all so well. He told us in words and in actions and not one of us ever doubted it.

One of my favorite memories of Grandpa was an Easter week in Doheney. Our family camps at the beach during Easter vacation and one year vacation fell the week after Easter. This meant that the Payless drugstore had a 90% off sale on their Easter candy in an attempt to clear it out and we bought a lot. It was a great day just because of that, but Grandpa secretly purchased a large amount of candy and put it in a box. He buried the box in the sand in a section that we called our island. It was just a pile of sand that was surrounded by the incoming tide every night so that it looked like an island. After burying the treasure, he painstakingly drew a treasure map on a piece of paper, burned the edges, rolled it up like a scroll and gave it to his grandchildren saying that he had discovered a treasure map. We followed the map to our “island” and dug to find the box of candy – our own treasure. That was Grandpa.

Grandpa was an encourager, but not in the same way as the rest of the family. Grandma tells you that everything you do is wonderful and amazing – because she really thinks it is. Her love for us blinds her to our faults. Grandpa didn’t pour out compliments, but that made the ones he did give extra special. He wanted everyone to do their best and motivated them to do it. You knew that if he said he liked something you made or did, he had examined it to its finite details and after his careful and knowledgeable inspection, he had approved. His praise was worth earning.

Grandpa loved my grandma. If anyone ever doubts the existence of true love, they just have to look at my grandparents. They could always be found holding hands and displaying affection. I can just hear that tone that Grandpa would get in his voice when he’d talk about, “mummy”. It was like a boy in love who couldn’t believe that a beautiful woman would fall for him. All you had to do was bring up a love song from an old movie or mention the picture of Grandma on the bridge and he would gush. Even as he was getting an EKG in the hospital, he asked the technician, “How can I have a heart? I gave it to my wife 61 years ago!” He shared his food with her, walked her everywhere while holding her hand, cared for her in little, tender ways. He is an example to all men of how to treat women and especially how to treat their wives. Grandpa never made it a secret that he loved his wife and his love and respect for her taught us all how to love and respect her. It is because of Grandpa that I know what it is to be cherished.

My Grandpa was quirky, in the best way. Grandpa was a saver. He saved a lot of stuff. He saved notes and papers and articles and he could find them to share with others. He gave me a map of Africa that he had saved since the 70’s. He was famous for saying, “Whatcha gonna throw that out for? It’s still good.” I’m sure this stemmed from growing up during the depression, but the best part was that Grandpa did actually use the things he saved. Grandpa saved every letter of correspondence that he and Grandma exchanged while he was away in WWII. They are in two beautiful boxes on their hearth at home. I was only ever allowed to read two letters from those boxes for a project in school. All I can say is he was just as smitten with her then as he was 61 years later.

Grandpa was a talker. He was famous for his cornerings. He would get talking on a subject and physically corner you until he was done. He could talk to anyone about anything, and he could talk for hours! He certainly had a lot of experiences and I don’t know if he ever told me the same story twice. What was amazing was his memory during these stories. He knew the first and last name of every teacher he ever had and each of his childhood friends. He knew details about things that happened decades past. He had remarkable recall. On a trip back to Toronto, we were walking down the street of his childhood home and he was telling us a story about some of the kids in the neighborhood and when he looked across the street at an old man he said, “That looks like Fudgie, the younger brother of my friend.” We all thought, “Sure, Grandpa, it’s been sixty years and you can recognize your friend’s little brother.” But Grandpa shouted, “Fudgie!” and the man turned and said, “Viv?” which was Grandpa’s middle name. We never doubted Grandpa’s memory after that.

Grandpa was narcoleptic, but only when sitting down. He could sleep anywhere at any time. If you caught him at it he would say, “I was just resting my eyes.” You could tell if he was watching a tv show he liked because he would stand up with his hands resting on his knees in an effort to not fall asleep, he was sometimes successful.

Grandpa was strong. Grandpa could run and lift things and move like an athlete. He redesigned his front patio and the family was helping him pour the concrete. Grandpa told Paul that he was disappointed in himself that he could only carry one 50 lbs sack on his shoulder instead of two like Paul could. My grandpa always expected a lot out of his body. My dad says that he was remarkably made. As a boy growing up, his father taught all of his son’s about boxing. Grandpa was good, really good. After he beat all of his brothers, their friends would try to beat him and soon he garnered a reputation as the best. It was always fun to watch him as he watched a boxing movie, he would bob and weave with the actor and jab at the screen.

Shortly after Grandpa enlisted, he and some buddies went swimming in a lake in Canada. Grandpa dove in and hit his head. When he surfaced, he told his friends that he had broken his neck. They thought he was wrong, but took him to the hospital anyway. He sat in the bed of a truck and rode the whole bumpy ride holding his head up with his hands. When he got to the hospital they took x-rays and had him wait in the hallway. Because of how calm he was, they were sure that he could not have actually broken his neck. They thought he was just trying to get out of serving in the military. After the x-rays were developed, a medical team rushed into the hallway shouting at him not to move. They casted him right there because he had, in fact, broken his neck. As a side note: when they removed the cast sometime later, Grandpa had grown a beard, it was bright red and the nurses laughed at him. I guess we know where that red hair in the grandkids comes from. Anyway, that was the strength of my grandpa. He was so strong and so active. Although he was 86, he acted more like a man in his 60’s.

God is good because Grandpa was used to being strong and healthy. God willed that my Grandpa would leave this Earth quickly and without knowing weakness. On February 26, 2009 Grandpa went home with loved ones near and scriptures in his ears.

John is survived by his loving wife, Margaret. His brothers Kenneth and Walter and sister Ramona. His children Diane, Carol, Nancy, and David and their spouses: Michael, Dal, and Erich. His grandchildren: Paul, Erin, Dann, Brenda, Kenneth, Kevin, Sami, Tim, Melody, Wesley, and Erich and his great-grandchildren: Madison, Michael, Natalie and Karis as well as extended family and friends. All who knew him are going to miss him.

There are little things we’re going to miss. I’m going to miss his hands. His very strong hands that would sometimes hold my arms as he was telling me something. I’m going to miss his whiskers on my cheek when I would kiss him. I’m going to miss his fishing hats he wore everywhere. I’m going to miss how he always cut his juice with water. I’m going to miss how loudly he sipped everything (he said it was an expression of appreciation to the chef.) I’m going to miss his phrases like, “I trust so,” as a response to “see you tomorrow” or “We love you too,” in response to “I love you,” or “bye for now” or “What do ya say?”. I’m going to miss his humming and whistling songs especially when Mom, CC, and I are practicing for the Christmas Eve service. He always overlapped our singing with his own that was sometimes half a beat off. Sometimes he’d sing an old love song and belt out a beautiful chorus. Afterward he would almost shiver in joy and say, “Oh, that’s a good song.” I’m going to miss his stupid puns. I’m going to miss his urging me to be a better writer. I’m going to miss his stories, even the long ones. I’m going to miss the way his voice deepened as he prayed. His tone in prayer was of humble and sincere reverence.

I am so thankful that I was blessed with such an amazing grandfather. He was such a wonderful man. He was able to make us all feel so loved, so beautiful, so important to him. I am thankful that he knew how much we all loved him. I don’t think that he ever doubted our love either. Especially in the end. In the first few days in the hospital he was able to know that his entire family was there to support him. I am thankful that each of his children and grandchildren have inherited a little something of him. Whether it be art, design, construction, a love of books, grammatical precision, or the ability to love steadfastly and whole heartedly.

There is so much more that I wanted Grandpa to do and so much more that he wanted to do: like fight off the boys from his beautiful great-granddaughters [and he would not allow any other words to be used to describe them, not pretty or cute, only beautiful], finish editing my novel, redesign parts of the church, parts of his house, attend the weddings of his grandchildren. And even though we are all shocked and saddened by the loss of the strongest man I knew, I am so comforted by the fact that my dear grandpa is in heaven now. His journey is done and he is home. And I don’t say this as some trite expression of comfort – ‘he’s in a better place’ and such – I say it as a solid fact in which I can hope. My grandpa was not a perfect man, he was not a sinless man, as great as he was and as much as I loved him – he did not deserve heaven. Yet my grandfather trusted in the salvation of Jesus and he was true to that calling to the end. This is his greatest legacy. He showed us what a blessing life can be when one’s priorities are straight: serve God, love your family, and enjoy the blessings of life. I am honored to be his granddaughter and to follow in the path that he has created for his whole family.

True Love

Today is Valentine's Day and this is a special holiday for me in general. Although I don't think people should be forced to show affection to each other because of one specific day, I do love the idea of showing people how much we love them. It is mostly special, because my grandparents were married on this day 61 years ago. They have always been an example of love to me. My grandfather cherishes my grandmother and my grandmother is devoted to him. Their example of steadfast love has been a vivid reminder of what love is about.

And this Valentine's Day is one where this reminder is especially strong. I am reminded that love in all of its glory and romance and goodness is also about pain. Love means taking a part of yourself and giving it to someone else. Love means attaching your happiness with another's so that their joy is your joy and their pain is your pain.

My grandparents are spending this anniversary in the hospital where my grandfather is clinging to life. As we sit in the small waiting room, I realize what a gift love is. It is because of love that we weep and ache and are so drained. It is love that draws us to the dark waiting room. It is love that wakes us from our sleep and in our own sicknesses brings us to this place. It is love that causes us to have this pain. It is 61 years of devotion and building a life together that causes my grandma to struggle with contemplating a life without him. It is this life they have built that has led to four children devoted to their parents and nine grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren and numerous in-laws and church family - all who love and all who ache.

So is this love worth it? By all means! It is this love that we share that allows us to hold each other up in our shared grief. It is love that has given us so many great memories and made us the people we are today.

We love my grandpa. We love him so much and we want him continue sharing his love with us. The part that gives me hope is that God loves him more. As we weep, God weeps. Each tear He holds in His capable hands. God loves us and loves my grandpa and unlike us, God is powerful to effect change. God has a plan and loves us.

So here is my valentine's challenge. Tell people that you love them. Tell them now, tell them why. Be specific, be genuine. Do it again tomorrow, and forever. Don't let a day pass without the people you love knowing that you love them. Surround them with it so there's never a doubt. And even when that love causes pain, for whatever reason, it will be there firmly planted. Love is never without pain, but pain can be endured with love.

The Mendelssohn Effect

I was home alone the other night. I don't do well with that. I am an extrovert in the truest sense. I can sit and do nothing. I can be still and be quiet. I just want someone else there doing that with me. I hate being alone for extended periods of time - especially when I don't have a project to complete.

So I was sitting at home trying to watch pointless TV (my favorite kind) and I was feeling down. I was thinking about all the things wrong in the world (this is what I do when I'm home alone) and I was starting to get to a bad place. I shook myself, figuratively, and said, "You are an independent and free woman. You have a free night, so spend it as a free woman should. Go out and do something. Go alone. Have fun!" I listened to myself and changed my clothes. I didn't look particularly cute, but I didn't look like I had just come from my dark room with my thirty cats, either. I decided to go to Barnes and Noble (one of my two 'happy places') and either spend my gift certificate or just browse. I like to get lost in the shelves and feel the books. I like to see the Cheesy Christian Romance Novel section and realize that I've read every book in it. I like to calculate the percent of the books I've read on the 'classics' table (is that double nerdy or triple?).

I felt like an independent woman and I congratulated myself for my positive courage. I got in my car feeling strong and ready to face the world. My radio came on and the beginning of Mendelssohn's Wedding March from Midsummer Night's Dream came trumpeting through my speakers. I laughed so hard I had to stop driving. Courage came crashing down as I continued driving. "Laugh it off, you can blog about it."

I made it to Barnesy and I started perusing. I went to the teen fiction section and avoided the temptation to talk to strange teens about book choices (I do this a lot. I have in fact recommended the Twilight and Uglies series to several kids that I didn't know). I wandered through Christian fiction (I did call my daddy just to hear a friendly voice). I heard an author talk about how he got into writing as I looked at the math section. But as I exited my safe harbors, I discovered that Valentine's day had struck a magic decorating stick on the rest of the specialty tables. The cooking section was all about pink hearts and cooking for two. The movie section was classic love stories and music for the mood. The children's section had kiddie versions of Corduroy's Valentine's day and the all time classic, "I'll love you forever." A woman opened a book and it played music - that's right, Mendelssohn's Wedding March!

I decided to check out my cousin's picture of her cake that was recently published in a prominent magazine...a wedding magazine. I picked up the Knot and decided not to buy it. After an hour of meandering, I decided to drive home. I felt good about my night of independence. I shopped alone and made a fun night out of it. I am woman, hear me laugh heartily at Mendelssohn.

Girlish, churlish, screams

or how I went from being "one of the guys" to the girliest of girls.

I grew up with only brothers and only boy cousins. I was and am a tomboy princess, as my sister-in-law likes to call me. I learned that crying was for wimps and nothing really hurts as much as someone else could make it hurt. My brothers would tell me to stop crying after they hit me or did something mean by saying, "Wonderwoman wouldn't cry." And I agreed and toughened up. I learned to be strong.

If I did girly things like squeal or get grossed out by snot or farts or licked fingers in my ear, it would only get worse. I learned to tough it out. I also learned that the only way to be included was to participate in boy things. I did yard work and construction and car repairs and boxing matches and video games and paint ball and I blended in. I was still a girly girl (pink hockey socks), but I was one of the guys.

Last Saturday, we had a great day at the Kellar's house. They are a couple at our church who are going to sell their house and needed some help doing some landscaping...major landscaping. We're talking tree removal and dumpster filling work. I was there early and left late. I was right there with the boys pulling weeds, working electrical trimmers (which I gladly handed over), climbing into the dumpsters again and again and again to dump the trash can of leaves and debris. I jumped out of the way from a falling limb and landed in a cactus. Did I complain? No. A little blood and scratches add character. I got pricked through the glove with a thorn that bled a lot. I sucked on the blood and moved on. We had work to do.

Near lunchtime, I helped my uncle move a table from the back yard to the front. We lifted together and I walked backward. There was no question of, "Can Brenda handle that heavy lifting?" I just grabbed it and we went. I looked over my shoulder as we were exiting the gate and I noticed a giant black widow crawling on my sleeve. Without thought or hesitation, I dropped the table, danced over to my other uncle and screamed, "Get it off, get it off...please!" I turned to him and he swiped at my shoulder a couple times and let it hit the ground. "I got it." "Thanks," I calmly responded and I picked up the end of the table to resume my walk.

Yesterday, while going through my sweaters in my closet, I decided to take everything off the top shelf to find a sweater I had misplaced. Somehow, that disturbed a resident that I did not know we had, a small mouse. I saw it from the corner of my eye as it scampered under my bed. I gasped (did not scream) and jumped on my bed. I giggled at myself, but I still couldn't move. "Julie, there's a mouse in my room!" I screamed to my roommate. She had an equal amount of girlish fear. I set traps which have yet to be visited by the new house guest, but I have to dispose of the potential dead bodies and I feel a visceral sense of dread.

When did I become such a girl?

World of Strings makes world of difference

In the previous blog, I wrote about a rather discouraging interaction with the slightly stoned and incompetent worker at Whittaker Music. Well, here is the complete antithesis to such melancholy drama - the World of Strings.

I found the store and entered through an old doorway into what might be a stringed heaven. Dana, my trusty sidekick, joined me as we walked past guitars and music books. A somewhat stringy haired young man made eye contact with me and asked, "What can I do for you?"
"I need a new string for my dulcimer," I replied as I lifted my case slightly.
"Ok, do you need a full set or just one string?" I held back the shimmering tears as I said, "I just need the bass string."
"Well, let's take a look. Do you have the old string?"
I tried to old back the growl as I said, "No, the first store I tried lost it."
"Ok," he was totally mellow too, but in a non-annoying and productive way. He looked at my manual and saw the range of diameters and said, "Yeah, 21, that will be fine." I followed him to the string drawers as he searched for my string. "This so much better than my last experience..." I proceeded to tell him about my last experience and he laughed a little. "Yeah, that store's gone downhill since they changed owners." He knew exactly what kind of loop I needed and said, "I don't have a 21 but I have a 22 and the difference won't be that noticeable."

He then restrung and tuned my dulcimer while I looked at dulcimer books and bought some ukulele books for my grandpa for his birthday. I walked into a room that was all string basses (I drooled for one, but I can't buy one until I have room for it).

Overall, the experience was joy-filled and so rewarding. I now am learning new ways to play my dulcimer (with awesome fingerings that the guy showed me) and better chords (I've been guessing this whole time). I will go back to World of Strings anytime I have any instrument issues (or when I want to drool over some uprights). Thanks, World of Strings, for putting my faith back in music stores and mellow musicians.

The Congregational Meeting

I found this in my "edit" box and realized I had never published it! So even though it was written in January of 2009, I'm posting it now:

When people hear of a two hour meeting on a Friday night about the happenings and finances of a church, most don't think, "Oh, fun!" and mean it. But I also think that those people have not been to our church's congregational meetings. If you keep the right perspective and know what to look for, these meetings can be more entertaining than an episode of Gilmore Girls.

It begins with the arrival, as many things do. We all pull into the parking lot around 7:30 or 7:35 for the meeting and find our seats. I always like to sit next to a commentator. A commentator is a person (usually my dad or Uncle Dal or Uncle Dave) who will whisper jokes, comments, or sidebars during especially funny or boring moments. Tonight, I pulled up a chair next to Uncle Dal in a row inhabited by some of my other family members, ensuring plenty of running commentary.

Then we sing as a group. We sing a hymn and it ties us all together and reminds us of why we're there - to worship God in all things. We then pray to remind us again, that this is God's church and that all of our planning and preparing is nothing if God is not with us. I sometimes forget at work meetings that we don't start everything with prayer and it surprises me when our principal just up and starts talking during the meeting. And sometimes I bow my head in a Pavlovian response when we get to the end. Years of church training, I guess.

Then everyone talks about the reports of different committees and councils. This is where the love-fest begins. "Are their any questions about the youth ministry report?" "We love what they are doing!" That's it. That's how most discussions go. They are filled with thanks for what people have done and efforts made and how God has blessed us.

This evenings love-fest ended with Rev. Kellar (a retired pastor who fellowships with us) standing and speaking about how blessed we are as a congregation that we can meet peacefully, how our pastor is a peacemaker, how my dad, Mike, does an unusual ministry with the youth (that sentence drew snickers from our row...). How our music ministry and Diana Curtis are about worshipping God and not glorifying our abilities. How the instruments assist in worship rather than distract from it. Have you ever had your heart fill with love so that it is almost palpable? I get that way sometimes when I am with my church family and this was one of those moments. Rev. Kellar was praising God for our unified and blessed church and the blessed members were joining him. It was a good way to end the first half of the meeting.

The two halves are separated by the serving of pie in the kitchen. I get to help and I love seeing everyone and catching up. Maddie, who's 6, gets to tell me about how she plans on eating her pie from the inside out. Helen Hayden, who is one of the founding members of our church, selects a piece that she'll take home to save for later. We joke about how everyone is voted in unanimously to any position that we vote for. I whisper to my Uncle Tim, "I voted for you!" Which is true...Uncle Dal did too and added smiley faces and hearts to his ballot.

The second half is laborious but fun as we watch Dave Gekler try to speed it up as much as possible and then talk about potential changes that could be made to the church - each of which I am horrified by. The night usually ends with the statement, "Not until Brenda gets married!" Tonight's was talking about changing the lights in the sanctuary. "We can get rid of those ugly chandelier things." I gasped in horror and my thought was, "But they've been up there forever! They were up there for my parents' wedding and both my aunts'. They need to be their for mine!" and Uncle Dave came to my rescue by saying, "Not until Brenda gets married!" and we all laugh.

I think I love them because we all love each other so much. I know that I am related to so many of the members there, but they all feel like family. We know each other by face and name. We express our love for each other and we share in our desire to serve God most faithfully. What a great way to spend a Friday night.

Mellow Musicians Make Me Mad

I play the dulcimer. It's a beautiful wooden instrument with four strings. It's easy to play and is a great American instrument. No one knows what it is. Well, almost no one. My father attempted to build one for my mother and it ended up being a catalyst for their relationship. My mother purchased one for my father on their 25th wedding anniversary and I stole it. A month ago, I broke the bass string on this instrument. I was advised to go to a music store and buy a new string.

I preface this with one addition, I am well aware of the rarity of my instrument and that my restringing a dulcimer is probably something few people who work at a music store have done. And still, I am peeved.

I entered Whitaker's music store with my broken string and my manual that described the range of diameters of my bass string. The only person in the store was the clerk who strummed his guitar, playing no song in particular. He smiled politely as we entered and continued his strumming. I walked toward him with determination and said, "I would like to replace the string on my dulcimer. This is the broken string." He continued strumming and smiling vaguely to himself. I waited and he didn't respond so I continued, "The manual says it should be between, .014" and .021"." No response.

Finally, he put down his guitar and said, "Sure, a dulcimer, uh yeah." His sarcasm was dripping from his lips and I handed him my string. "Huh," he eloquently commented. "It could be like a guitar string, but does it have to have this loop thing at the end?" I agree that this is a valid question and one to which I did not have an answer. So I went back to the car and brought in my dulcimer. Before I continue, I feel the you cannot understand this experience if you are not reading his words in the proper tone. You must imagine every surfer/hippie that has ever been parodied and mix that with early twenties garage bander, then slow it down twenty fold. This is our guy.

"Oh, yeah, of course a dulcimer," he said as he took it from the case and screwed up his face in confusion. Yeah, I get that it's a strange instrument. Get me a string. "So what made you pick up this?" "It was a gift from my mother to my father and I stole it." "Stealing is good," he smiled as he tried to place the dulcimer on some sort of stand and as it slid off the stand, he removed it.

We spent the next 10 minutes with him trying to replace my string. If I interjected anything, he would get confused and need to start over. He paused once to help another customer and then returned with my broken string in his hand. He seemed to have forgotten what he was trying to do because he tried to restring it with my broken string. "Nope, that won't work. Oh, wait, what am I doing? That's your string you came in with." He then tossed my string over his shoulder and tried to attach a violin string. He unwound it and realized it was too small. "Maybe we could try a cello string?" He looked to me as if I was the one who knew what to do. I shrugged and did not hold much hope. He walked back toward his cabinet of strings, did not pull out any more and said, "I don't think I have any strings long enough. Did you try online?" "No," I replied, thinking I thought a music store might be a little more helpful that the internet.

I packed up my instrument and asked for my string back. "Uhh...huh, that's weird. Where did it go?"

"I saw you throw it over your shoulder."

He looked up in utter dazed astonishment, "I did? No."

"Yeah, remember you accidentally tried it back on my dulcimer and realized it was the wrong one and threw it over your shoulder."

"Really? That's weird." He then looked for it for another 5 minutes.

"That's ok. I'll just go."

"No, this is really ********. You like come in here all wanting help and stuff and not only can I not help you, I make it worse by losing your string. {expletive}"

"It's fine."

We left the store and my friends and I just started laughing. "Wow," I said, "that would have been the biggest waste of time, except I write a blog and that made that experience awesome."