Happy Holidays!

Blessings to you and yours this Christmas and in the New Year!

Finals WEEK

Winter break is almost here! I NEED a break.

Pass the turkey and slap the salami.

A random post calls for a random post title. (Can't wait to see what people will Google to find this post!)

I've been lovingly tagged by Peter to join in on the fun with the "seven random or weird book facts" meme. Frankly, I am glad to have a reason to ignore planning and grading for a few minutes (or at least "think" about planning and grading but not actually *follow* through with doing it).

1. Does a deck of cards count? What if these are cards that have writing on them rather than numbers? A few months ago, I confiscated a deck of "SEX!" cards from a sophomore boy in one of my classes. The cards (and I only know this by reading the outside cover of the cards) have tasks printed on each one - rub your partner's...(you fill in the blank), etc. The idea is to draw a card and complete the task with your lover. So I threw the cards into my file cabinet (right next to the "nude man" pen I confiscated the previous month) and forgot about them for awhile. Even though I asked the boy several times to please drop by after school and retrieve his "cards," the cards remained in my desk for a month or more. Eventually I threw them out. About a week ago, the boy finally dropped by and asked for the cards. He said, "My mom and dad are looking all over for them." I said, "Oh, so sorry, I threw those away! Well, you know what you have to do, right?" "Yeah," he replied, "I gotta go to that shop and buy them some new ones."

2.The first book I remember reading was a volume of Dick and Jane that was one of my older brother's textbooks. I was four. Even though Dick and Jane and Spot lived in a nice little neighborhood that was nothing like my neighborhood, I marveled at every word and picture. I wondered why the police never visited the house across their street. Seriously, though. Wait. I was being serious. Anyway, Dick and Jane offered the world a nice big slice of Americana like no other book from that time period could. Except for the "Little Black Sambo" series. And that's all I'm going to say about that because I just keep getting more and more sarcastic with every word I type. Am I really that jaded? (Don't answer that!!)

3. My brothers and I used to play "library." In the first grade, I organized all of our books alphabetically by the author's last name, and then I made individual "call" numbers that I taped on the spine of each book. I can't remember what my system was, but it made sense to me when I was in the first grade. Ironically, my daughters also like to play library whenever they visit grandma and grandpa's house. The old set of Funk and Wagnalls and 100+ Reader's Digest condensed books compilations are perfect for that game.

4. Dalene tagged me awhile back on Facebook to join in on her discussion regarding a list of "must read" books. I have to say that no author has moved me of late as much as Flannery O'Connor has. Last year I read the novel The Violent Bear it Away, and I was ruined. No matter what I have read after reading that novel, it just doesn't move me - disturb me - the way O'Connor's writing does. I used to think that Faulkner was the master American novelist. Compared to O'Connor, his writing is perfunctory.

5. Like Peter, I like to savor every word when I read. It might take me a month or two - or a year - to finish a book, especially if I am captivated with the story line or the characters or the topic. Then again, I plowed through Crime and Punishment in a manner of days.

6. There are a few books that make me cry or *move* me no matter how many times I read them. One of those books is S. E. Hinton's The Outsiders. Another is Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton.

7. No one I know reads more books than my mother does. She loves to read mysteries. I think she has read every Agatha Cristie book that was ever written.

As for the tagging...I'll have to get back to you on that one. Lily - secret blog. Anthony - secret blog. Jess - up for posting on your public blog? For sure, Dalene, consider yourself tagged. Anyone else that bloggs and reads this, well, you are tagged too.

*TAGGING UPDATE: Aerin, you are definitely tagged. Lily played. Dalene, where are you. Who else has a writing blog that wants to come forth?

Crazy Train

Just to make my life more difficult, I decided to change the Honors curriculum mid-semester.

Gee. I'm having some fun now.

Please make this crazy train stop.

News Flash

Poetroad caught the mouse and released it back into the wild (aka "the field"). I wanted the mouse dead,but daughter number three cried hysterically at the mere mention of the word "dead" used in conjunction with the word "mouse."

"No! Noooooooooo, motherrrrrr! You know how mutch I looooove little creatuuuureth!" she sobbed. "I want to take care of iiiiiiit. Don't kiiiiiiill that cute little mooooousth!"

Sticky traps work well for such a predicament. Although the cute little mouse is missing quite a bit of fur now.

My dog...

is full-on grooming my cat right now. Weird.

Of course...

merely seconds after making that post, I saw the mouse again! He dashed out from the sink back up into his same little hiding place under the button panel that regulates the oven. The poor little guy must have been thirsty. And when I say "poor little guy," I mean "soon to be disposed of rodent."

Ironically, today there was a mouse cavorting around the bathroom that is directly next to my room at school. Both the girls and boys in the hallway were screaming and scattering as the brown fuzzy rodent exited the ladie's room.

I hope she washed her hands first.

And one more thing...

I have great friends! Not only did Ch@ndy take a looooong train ride to Sacto so that she could be here for my first marathon, but Maria, Peter and family joined us for a pre-marathon barbecue on Saturday. AND Anthony spent all day Sunday here too with the crew.

Thank you, Ch@ndy, for helping me cook and clean. Thank you, Peter, for driving Maria here. Thank you Maria and Ch@ndy for making sure my kiddos got where they needed to be on Sunday morning. Thank you for meeting me on mile 19 - that was a terrific surprise! Thank you Anthony and Maria and Ch@ndy for being there at the beginning and the end of the race, for the cool signs, for taking photos, for the fries... You all are so thoughtful!

Thank you, friends, for acting as if it were a normal occurrence when flies buzzed all around and a MOUSE cavorted on the stove while we ate and chatted around the dinner table (btw, I haven't seen a fly or that pesky mouse since; very strange).

Thank you, most of all, Poetroad, for indulging my wild obsessive compulsive behavior that sometimes include a house full of people at a moments notice, my training sessions that sometimes last hours and hours, and these silly notions of running marathons.

I love you all!

First things first...

Way back in May, I made the original "pact" to train for a marathon with Dalene and Ch@ndy. When I moved to California, I knew immediately that if I wanted to stay motivated and train successfully, I would need to find a new running partner (although there was always a hope that Hannah would move here...there was only a hope; Hannah actually said she would only *visit* me here).

And then I met Telle. Not only did Telle introduce me to trail running, but she took me on runs that totally kicked my butt. Week after week, each run we tackled out on the American River Canyon trails was the most difficult and longest run that I ever ran. Before I met Telle, I never dreamed that I would actually run three miles up hill or for four hours non-stop. In 100 degree weather. Telle told me that it was good to train in extreme conditions. She is the experienced runner, after all, so I figured that's what all runners do to train for races. You know - kill themselves. The sweating, the bleeding, the blisters, the puking (okay - I never actually puked, but Telle did, and there were a few times when I came really close to puking).

So somewhere in the training process, Telle suggested that we run a trail race at the end of August: "Run on the Sly." Even though I had never run even a simple 5k before - heck, to be honest, the only race I had ever run was one leg of a 400 relay race when I was in elementary school - I thought, "Why not run a 20 mile race. I've got to start somewhere."

And that's what we did.



It was a chilly Sunday morning up in the Sierra foothills near Jenkinson Lake. Prior to the race, we planned every detail regarding what we would wear and eat for breakfast and eat on the trail and how much water we would pack in our hydration packs, etc., etc. Telle brought her cool watch that has some type of GPS system and rings a bell at each mile marker. I brought a blue bandanna that I used as a hat until my body warmed up in the sub 50 degree temp. Yeah - I am a wimp when it comes to "cold." (Next time I will bring gloves too.)

We had a plan to break up the run into thirds. The idea was to mentally run each section of the race as if we were starting from mile one all over again. After all, saying, "Wow, I only have 6 more miles to go," doesn't seem as daunting as, "Wow, I still have 14 miles to go!"

Also, under wise advise from our Sensei/mentor/coach/Telle's boss, "The Dentist", Dr. Misono, we knew to "walk up-hill and run fast down hill." Although a novice runner might be tempted to run continually because "it's a race," trail running is very different than a regular road race. All runners *walk* up the steep hills. We knew this because Dr. Misono graciously took us on several trail runs, and, quietly, yet encouragingly, while running behind us, Dr. Misono would know exactly the right thing to say at the right time to help us run on and on - or to not be afraid of walking - so that we could finish the run - which was always the goal.

Miles 1-14 came and went quickly in the race. Telle and I chatted as we ran for the first 10 miles or so. We stopped at the aid stations to down some electrolyte juice, take pictures and video of our progress, and then continued on our steady pace to finish in around four hours.

Around the 14 mile mark, I tripped and fell. I scraped my knee pretty badly, and dirt and rocks were now embedded in my hip and hand, but my injury didn't seem to bother me too much at that point. Luckily, adrenaline was on my side. Also lucky for me, Telle packed along some band aids. (Side note: Telle is notoriously bad luck for any running partner at a race. While the partner breaks a tooth, an arm, his glasses, and might even require a few stitches, Telle never even so much as breaks a fingernail. I'm lucky that I only scraped my knee on that run!)

Five of the last six miles generated difficult terrain to traverse. A few challenges were trying not to kill ourselves in the one mile descent through forest debris (in which, incidentally, another runner and I tailgated another gal until she pulled over to let us pass - we sprinted down that zig-zag path at top speed) or on the two mile ascent that seemed to never end.

Telle's legs cramped up somewhere around mile 17. I continued on to the finish line fairly easily. I even won a hat for my efforts (although I shouldn't have won a hat since I was fifth in my age group rather than one of the top three finishers. But I was too delirious to refuse the hat, plus, I didn't know for sure at that point where I had finished in my age group).

Anyway, I ended up running the race in 4 hours and 4 minutes. At the end of the race, I felt a slight twinge in my left hamstring. It was an injury that would keep me from training to my full potential in the coming weeks. Regardless of that slight setback, however, I knew that I would be ready to run the Cow Town Marathon in October.

Yes. And Yes.

I will see Ch@ndy soon.

I will see Anthony soon.

Rock Star Wing and company will crash at our house soon too (oh, if we could get Christy here too...hmmmmm).

I will run my first marathon this weekend.

I teach two sections of "honors" English.

Oh, yes. All good. Very good.

And on an even more positive note, I came home to a clean house today. This is not normal, and it is the kind of unexpected fantabulous "not-normal" surprise that I would like to walk - nay, run - into every day.

Geeze...

...not doing so well in juggling the ol' blog, taking care of a family, and working full time. The blog has cob webs - again, the house is a mess (okay - so that isn't any different than usual) and the pile of papers that need grading keeps growing...

Boo!

On a positive note...

I'll get back to you on that.

Coincidence? Maybe...

We knew from the start that a move to California would mean that I would have to go back to work. Even with the local economy in the toilet, it is still incredibly expensive to live her. I hit the job listings hard from day one. Unfortunately, there were no jobs available at the school where I wanted to work. I know, I know. One should not be picky when one is desparate to find a job.

Over June and July, I began the process of securing a teaching certificate in California - which is no easy task. Even though there is supposed to be a shortage of teachers here, there are a number of convoluted hoops one must jump through in order to earn a certificate.

As August neared - with no prospects of a job yet - I was beginning to lose hope. What kind of job is a degree in education good for - actually, two degrees in education - other than a teaching job?

And then one day, the high school job I wanted magically appeared online. The next day, I chatted with a friend I knew who worked at the school. Within an hour, he arranged an informal interview with the Vice Principal.



The preliminary interview went well. I had a sense that they would have hired me on the spot if the district would allow it. But the job posting was still active for a few more days, and the powers that be wanted them to interview more than one applicant - which is reasonable.

The only problem was that I was about to drive to Oregon and visit my family for a few days. Lucky for me, I got a call while I was in Oregon that they wanted me to have a formal interview on Monday of that next week. School started only one week later.

So I went to the interview on Monday morning (after spending 11 hours on the road the day before; yes, it took us
that long to get home), and I arrived at 9:00 am. My interview was supposed to be at 9:00 am. I was almost late!

And there was a nicely dressed woman waiting in the office too.

So I found the closest secretary to tell her that I was there, and the nicely dressed lady - Miss America Barbie dressed in a navy blue business blazer and skirt and matching pumps - said, "Oh, I need to tell her that I am here for the interview too!" I thought, "Crap. This much younger and more professionally dressed model is my competition? I am toast!" Needless to say, the gal told me that she had an interview at 9:30 and that there were five interviewees for this job. I thought, "bummer."

The interview went okay, but I went away knowing that I didn't wow
anyone. In fact, some of my interview answers were kind of dumb. For one, when asked what they might observe in my classroom on any given day, I responded much too quickly with, "Organized chaos." Yeah. That's exactly what a principal wants to see in a high school English classroom. Not.

So they didn't call me on Monday, and when they didn't call me on
Tuesday, I knew that I blew it. As the day wore on - 1 pm, 2, 3... by
5 pm I knew I didn't get the job.

I tried to be strong and "accept" it, but I was really feeling like a
total loser. That job was mine, and I blew it!

By 7 pm, I was totally sobbing. And then I realized that there was
nothing I could do about it, so I was trying to accept the reality
that I would have to find another job. The girls were telling me,
"It's okay, Mom. You can be a waitress! You've done that before!"

Their assurances that I could get a job at McDonald's or Applebees
wasn't really consoling me.

Then at 8:30 pm, the principal called my house and offered me the job. I couldn't believe it! She said that it took a while to get hold of my references as everyone is on summer break.

So, yes, I did get the job! Aaaaah!

Later, I apologized to Poetroad for getting all weepy about the job. He said, "It's okay honey. For a whole day, you were a loser. It's good to walk in someone else's shoes once in a while."

Indeed it is. Especially if those shoes are navy blue pumps that exactly match the skirt and blazer worn for a job interview.

I survived...

week one. Now what will I do?

Oh my. Much ado about something...

My life is so topsy turvy right now that I'm not sure when I posted last! Great news: I got a job. Although I am really exhausted right now...and it's only day two. Yikes!

So I am teaching 10th graders at one of the local high schools. Wow. This is going to be lots of work. Thankfully, I found my lesson plans from the last time I taught this class a few years ago. Unfortunately, each year I try to constantly "improve" (at least I hope that is what I am doing) my teaching techniques/delivery. Boo!

Finally...and the winning story, coming in under 200 words (although I did like Mimi's twisted tale too), was authored by Jerolyn: "The Mystery." Enjoy!

It was a dark and stormy night. Buford sat quietly sipping his tea from the beautiful china cup his mother had given him before leaving London – a small token, but one that reminded him of home. But as he reviewed his day, his demeanor became darker and darker despite the soothing respite. That blasted child had ruined everything. Well, almost. Now she would never bother him again…or anyone else for that matter....

How had she found out his secret? He had taken such care to keep it hidden. He was sure his friends and colleagues never suspected. Possibly his neighbors had an inkling; but never any proof. Buford had been very careful except for one thing; he’d forgotten the spoons. Not even a game of find-the-dead-bat kept her distracted. (However, she did take some time searching for her sandal she’d lost in the process.) Still, she wasn’t deterred from her quest for the truth. But I had to keep my secret hidden. No respectable Englishman uses boiled dirt for his tea.

I am in Oregon...

...visiting my parents, and you know what that means. Dial up. Yes, the digital age has not made it's way to the far reaches of this little country town. These few posts I make from Oregon, then, will be slim.

So I made it here in 9.5 hours. Pretty good time for a person travelling 500 miles with four girls and a dog. Coordinating potty trips is an art - I am not sure I've mastered that art yet.

My dad, the girls, and I trekked over to Seal Rock yesterday and visited with my grandma. We spent most of the day on the beach. Gorgeous weather for the coast - 65 degrees and sunny. Today, of course, it is raining here. It rained the first day we arrived too, wouldn't you know it. I haven't seen rain in more than three months. But is this drizzly precipitation really considered "rain"? The drizzle is one part of Oregon that I do not miss.

Headed for home on Sunday. I have a job interview Monday morning; send your prayers and/or positive vibes my way.

It is disgusting...

...how easily I can allow myself to be so distracted by the daily grind that I neglect this little space. I definitely need to dust away the cobwebs here, and to do that I'll need a little help. :)

Below is a list of items I've discovered and the location where I found each over the past four weeks.

* One leopard print sandal, size 8.5: found hidden in the shrub by the front door
* One skeleton - not in tact, but I definitely found the hip bones and at least 6 inches of the vertebral column: found scattered all over the back yard
* One small bat - think "billy club" - covered in blood stains: found in the very back of the cupboard above the refrigerator
* One china cup - white with gold trim: also found in a cupboard.
* Four spoons: two found under a tree by the back fence, one found in the dirt in the back yard, one found under a shrub in the front yard.

Based on that information, what do you think went on here with the previous tenants? Your job is to write a story (200 words max.) to unravel the mystery for me.

Post your story on your blog, and then leave the link in the comments section for this post. The scenario I like the best will be featured here on Monday, August 3rd.

I am here!

Oh my. I don't even think you want to know the details, but I'm sure the story will unravel over the coming weeks.

The short story is that we left Austin on June 5 rather than June 4 (it took a little longer for us to pack and get rid of stuff than we had hoped), and that gave us roughly 2.75 days to drive to Sacramento. That's right: 12 hour driving days in a moving truck and van stuffed with stuff, children, a dog, and a cat.

The best part of the move was that 15-20 people from our church were here waiting to unload and unpack our stuff upon arrival. Too bad Bob the property manager had his ring tone on "low" - but we only had to wait around an hour and a half for him to finally check the 20 voice messages and texts that Poetroad had been frantically sending him.

And we only had one incident of "poopee" [the three year old's description of diarrhea; she had no idea that her body could do such a thing]. Fortunately, we were only 15 minutes from the hotel.

I do love the location of the house we are renting. Cute exterior too. Great floor plan. The older two each finally get to have her own space.

There was only one teeny problem with the house. Okay...there are a few problems with the house. Let me put it to you this way: last night, I sanitized the closet in the Master Bedroom, and I scrubbed no less than three body fluids off the walls. Not to mention that the previous family dog used this closet - and all of the carpeted floors - as its personal bathroom.

Thankfully, I've convinced the landlord that he needed to replace the carpets. The upstairs will finally be fully re-carpeted today! In another week, the most offensive downstairs carpeting will be gone too.

There is more - but I will save that for another day...

I'm still here!

Don't go away, dear readers! There is much blogging to be done for sure, but between the packing and the packing - well, you understand.

When did I acquire all of this junk, by the way? If someone were to use a little accelerant and strike a match to it all, well, I wouldn't be sad.

Good news - the washer is fixed. It turns out that when a scarf, loose change, and sticks work their way into the motor, the motor for some reason stops working. Lucky for us, we bought the extended warranty. I'll have to be more diligent in checking pockets.

Speaking of laundry, before the washer could be fixed, I had the pleasure visiting the "Laundry Mat" east of where I live. It's the closest coin operated laundry in the vicinity, and I had to drive 25 minutes to get there. Crazy. Anyway, my two eldest accompanied me, and I hadn't realized how sheltered they were until that little adventure. This was a clean place too (well, not counting the inch layer of dust on the CEILING). So they gawked a bit. I don't know why. There were only two shirtless homeless guys hanging out on the bench out front, and two guys giving each other back rubs inside the place. They had their shirts on.

Anyway, more stories to tell when I get a chance - oh, and the inquisition. Thanks, Peter. :)

My Week So Far...

Two projects and reports due for daughters one and two;
Me up half the night Tuesday going poo;
Can not find a rental in Cali to move into;
Washer broke since Monday - too much laundry to do;
Cross your fingers that repair man will follow through.

Oh. Yes. I did.

Ok, ok. I haven't always been fashion savvy. I admit that. I don't know what happened in the 90s. Really. There was that grunge phase. Then there were the oversize vests. And jeans that were baggy and belted at the chest. Stirrup pants. Yeah. I wore it all.

But something happened at the turn of the century. I got rid of the frumpy wardrobe and opted to wear the hip and cool fashions. Well, hip and cool for a woman in her thirties.

This week, however, I think I bobbled the ball. Fumbled even. I bought these shorts:



To my defense, these are ultra low rise shorts, and I bought them from Old Gravy. I mean Navy.

Nevertheless, they are jean shorts. Jean shorts. Might as well slap an elastic waist band in there and call me "Ma."

And look at the pockets. Look how they cut across the front of the shorts. Those have got to be the most unflattering type of pockets available for a woman shaped like me - a pear.

You know what the worse part of this whole sit-chi-a-shun is? I put on the jean shorts, and they were comfortable. Darn it! And, AND, AND...even though I purchased the shorts in the size I normally wear, the shorts were very loose fitting. Which, of course, made me think, "Hey, I'm getting skinny again."

Double darn!

So I guess I'm keeping the shorts. Oh, I tell myself that I'll dress them up by wearing a hip Abercrombie or Hollister top, or, better yet, I'll pair them with some of my nouveau Punk wear. My fear is, though, that there will be a day that I'm feeling kind of tired or won't be thinking straight, and I'll throw on a baggy t-shirt and the jean shorts.

It's a slippery slope friends. Please, God, no. Tell me I'm not going down.