Merry Christmas to All!

This year is a different Christmas for us.  Since AT has been born, we have always gone to Tennessee for Christmas, except for one year.  Another year, we went for Thanksgiving plus Christmas.  Whew!  That was too much.  We usually don't go to Tennessee for Thanksgiving.  This year, however, we went for Thanksgiving and stayed in Oklahoma for Christmas.

Last night was midnight mass.  I think it was AT's first.  The Tennessee family does not go to midnight mass so AT has not have that experience.  When AT was little, we went to the children's evening mass, rather than make her stay up late.  For EM, the cradle Catholic, midnight mass was a must-do childhood tradition.  So this year, we were at midnight mass at our church.  AT was totally convinced that she would not be able to stay awake through the midnight mass.  We seriously pointed out that she would have had no problem if it were a sleepover, rather than midnight mass.  The service was lovely.  Lots of Christmas carols.  Our choir is the best it's ever been.

Then home and immediately to bed.  This morning, AT was up about 7:30, totally manageable for me.  We cheerily opened our gifts and had a big breakfast.  AT peeled off to watch movies, using her new iTunes card.  I am now happily typing using my new keyboard, which is much more nicer than my old keyboard.  Next there might be a nap.  EM is already napping.  We have a fire going.

The adventure of the morning was with the dog-that-we-have-NEVER-seen-get-up-on-a-couch.  This dog is currently wearing Christmas bells on her collar.  So cute!  The dog got two rawhide bones for Christmas.  She can demolish any chew toy in minutes. Once, when I said that to a dog trainer, the trainer said to get the dog a black Kong, that she had never seen a black Kong destroyed by a dog.  So we bought the dog a black Kong and she chewed the top off within 30 minutes.  Back to this Christmas morning, the dog got her first bone, ran around the house to make sure we would see and be jealous of her lovely gift, then chewed it up immediately.  She was given a second rawhide bone (big mistake).  Later, AT and I retreated to the fire in the den and there was some horribleness on the couch.  It looked like an animal had been killed on my couch. I never would have known what happened, except there, shoved deep behind the couch cushions, was the second rawhide bone.  The dog had chewed until her gums were raw and bleeding, then buried the second bone in my couch.  Fortunately, she selected the couch with a cover on it.  The cover is already washed, stains out, and is in the dryer.  And, yet, this dog has never been seen on a couch.

I will start cooking today at 3:00, although much of it is already done, so it won't be hard.  We are having a non-traditional dinner, according to me.  Ham, mac and cheese, green beans, spinach casserole, three salads, and three desserts.  There will be lots of leftovers, days of me not in the kitchen!  A traditional dinner for me would include the ham, but with addition of greens, mashed potatoes, and dressing.  Since I'm the only person here who is crazy about those three things, I didn't make them this year.  As a lovely aside, my grandmother, who was proclaimed at the best greens cooker in our family, used to can greens for me.  It was like having her in my kitchen with me when I opened them.  I gave one jar away and am now regretting that.

Sleet is falling.  Currently, we are promised three inches of snow, down graded from 6-8 inches.

Drat!  Now I'm trying to nap on the now-famous couch and the dog is totally convinced that I am covering up her bone.

Merry Christmas to all!

Off on an adventure - to Nashville by 4:00 PM.  It is now 5:30 AM. We are leaving town, seeing the lights of the big city in the distance.  AT is snuggled up in the back seat.  We have always been in unison as a family about leaving early for these road trips (we often have left at 2:00 AM) but, this time, AT struggled to get up.  She may be already asleep.

I have my sugar-free-vanilla-medium-iced-coffee, the nectar of the gods.  I am sensitive to caffeine so I won't be falling back asleep.  EM is almost always the driver. I love to drive on long road trips, but I am a better passenger than he is, so I read, snooze, now blog, sightsee.

This trip, we are taking the small car, rather than the pickup.  The car costs half as much in gas obviously.  We have a pre-trip ritual.  He says, "We'll take the car to save money."  OK.  Then a few days before, he says, "We'll take the truck, to be comfortable."  OK. He's our household mechanic; he has the final call in this area.  But this time, due to a knock in the truck, there was no changing our mind about which vehicle to take.  We are saving money and packed into this car without an ounce to spare.  Hope my back has a much fun as I plan to.

The fog is beautiful this morning, not a problem on the highway at all, but making beautiful views with an accompanying sunrise.  Carl says the fog slips in on cat feet, but it rests in an Oklahoma field with cattle only half visible, seeming to float over the fog-filled pasture.  I wonder if it causes them concern as they look at their brethren floating without legs.

Our plans are to have a trip with laughter, food, communion of family, shopping, sightseeing.  My sister has a new/old house.  I can't wait to see it.  I have a nephew, parents, sisters, brother-in-law.  Life is good.  Happy Thanksgiving to all!  

An Evening in OKC

On a recent Friday night, AT announced her Friday spend-the-night plans too late in the evening for EM and me to go to dance lessons. We'd love to say, "Aren't you going somewhere tonight so we can go to dance class?" We also can make her go to class with us or she's old enough to stay at home by herself, but we made a policy to be relaxed this summer and just wait to see if she makes plans for herself. When we go to dance class, we head for the city at about 6:00 and AT's plans were announced at 6:30. Of course. We dropped her off to a girlfriend's for the night, then, what to do, what to do? It took us a little while to make a plan (after the evening was over, we thought of several things to do, of course).

 Often our evening plans center around putting some miles on the hot rod.  EM suggested we drive the hot rod to Oklahoma City and drive around downtown. We arrived about 9:00 PM. Those of us who are familiar with downtown OKC are amazed at the changes that have, and still are, taking place. Streets that have been one way for over 20 years are now two-way. Many landmarks are gone. At the center of these changes is the new Devon Energy Tower. It's 50 stories tall, by far the tallest building in OKC. It was the first time we had seen it at night. Each corner of the building had changing streaks of light. It is amazing. We did not stop, but we saw many people walking downtown and in the parks, even though it was dark. Unfortunately, I did not take a camera. The night lights were beautiful. We're going to have a repeat trip with a camera.

 Next, we moseyed up north through the Asian District to Whole Foods. All that area looks revived also, with no small part of the credit going to Chesapeake Energy. Instead of a tall building, Chesapeake has a campus, that goes on for blocks and blocks. Landmarks have disappeared from that area also. At Christmas, they decorate hundreds of trees, very beautiful. In years past, we would have been able to find our way around OKC expertly, but, due to all the new buildings, we had to search a bit to find Whole Foods. I've only been there twice and was excited about going there again. Never mind the organic and healthy, which I do appreciate, but I like to eat weird, ethnic foods (which is often healthy) and Whole Foods is the holy land for that. Unfortunately, we arrived at 10:00 PM and it closed at 10:00. Poo. Another identical evening must be planned, camera in hand.

 Today, a man asked EM if the car made it easy to pick up women. EM replied that the car usually carried around his wife, but that last night two women were taking our photos with their smart phones. That was a new one for us. So I guess we're somewhere on someone's Facebook page today. We (EM) often have people comment and ask us questions about the hot rod, as we drive through town. Once a guy leaned out his car window and said, "Isn't that car too heavy to be on the street?" He was serious. It's really fun.

Lazy Girl's Skinny Iced Coffee

It's been a very long time since I have posted a recipe on the blog.  There are so many recipes on the Internet that I rarely come up with something that hasn't already been done.  There are some delicious iced coffees on the Internet. There is International Delight Iced Coffee that already made for you, 150 calories in one cup.  There is another recipe made with sweetened condensed milk that sounds delicious, that I haven't tried.

This recipe below is my own, lazy and easy.  It only has 40 calories, not per cup, but per glass.  It uses instant coffee and if you are a serious coffee connoisseur (I am not),  you may not be interested in this recipe.  If you are interested few calories and ease of preparation, this recipe is for you.  Please tweak to please yourself.

Lazy Girl's Skinny Iced Coffee

Fill a tall glass about 1/3 full with water.
Microwave for 20 seconds.
Add 1/4 teaspoon Stevia and 1/3 teaspoon of instant coffee in the water.
Add the smallest drop of vanilla or orange extract.  Stir.
Add ice to the glass.
Fill the glass with skim milk.  Stir.

Yum!  Start to finish in under one minute.

History

My mom was raised on a farm that has been in her family since Civil War times.  She and her brother still own that farm.  By the time I came along, my grandparents lived on the farm in a house that was built in the 20s.  My grandfather was the youngest of eight children (I think).  My mom completed the family tree for the family in 1987.  After receiving her copy of the family tree, one of my grandfather’s nieces, by then an old woman, wrote this letter to my mom about her memories as a grandchild coming to her grandparents’ homeplace.  This house was on the same land where my mother grew up, although a newer house had been built in the 1920s.  The wood lot in the letter is the same one I played in when I was a child over 50 years later.  This kind of information is fascinating to me.  If I could write historical fiction, it would be bridging from family history like this.  But that will never happen.  Below are excerpts of that letter.

Dear _______.

The picture I have sent to you is the only one I have seen of the family.  You keep it and show it to the girls.  I have arthritis so bad in my feet and hands.  I do not care for such as this as I once did.

If we were together sometime I could tell you about the homeplace and the large wood lot.  The house was east of the house where your mother lives.  And a large wood lot between it and the road.  Maybe you have seen the old house.  There was a large pond in the south end of it and during the fall all the neighbors would take their hogs on the same day to the pen and kill them.  Make a scaffold and a fire and cut and dress them at the pond.  Had large vats to put them in hot water.

After the hogs were dressed and pieces cut off, the children had to turn the sausage mill as the women made sausage sacks and stuffed the sausage in the sacks.  Clean the heads and cook them in large black wash kettles.  Run them through the mill where the sausage was ground then pressed in large pans with large tops are pressed down.  That was how they made the souse.  The next day all the fat pieces of meat were cut, clean and put in a kettle and the children all had to stand by the large black kettles and keep the fire built up and the pieces of meat cooked.  Then the pieces were dipped out of the lard.  These were the cracklins used in making corn bread.  The lard was taken from the kettles and put in large lard stands.

The most fun the grandchildren had was the time of year when all of us had to go to the pasture north of the house where they had raised geese and chase them until every one of us had caught one each.,  We would take them to the buggy house (the garage today) where all the women would pick the feathers to make pillows and feathers beds.  That was used instead of mattresses.  

Uncle Onice [my grandfather] was the only child [an unmarried adult] at home and got all kinds of toys, tops, and other things for all of us to play with when we were there.  He enjoyed playing with them too.

When the wheat was ready to cut and thrashed in the wood lot by the pond, there would be a large pile of wheat straw left in the woods by the large pond.  All the women would work together and make new straw beds to use for the mattresses.  Under the feather beds, we got new mattresses each year when wheat was thrashed.

All the children in the neighborhood went to Tatumville to school.  The building was north of the church.  Elsie had a buggy and Ole Red.  She picked Vada, Parker and myself up and we rode to school with her.  The school was a 2 year high school.

Elsie and Babe got married and left school.  That left the three of us the last ones north of the school.

Pops started driving two mules to his wagon and taking us to school.  On the way down there was children standing out in front of their house waiting for the wagon.  When school was out in the afternoon, Pops was waiting in the wagon for all the crowd to crawl in.  When time came for him to go to work in the field, we all had to walk.  We took our lunch with us in a tin molasses bucket.

One day we had had a hard rain on top of frozen ground and the road was getting soft in places.  One morning Parker was leading the way and stepped in a soft place and went under to his knees.  It took all of us to pull him out.  Nada and I had to go back home with him after we had scrapped all the mud off that we could.

I was in 5th grade and Pops heard they were going to give exams in Newbern for a new rural mail carrier.  He said for fun he though he would go to town and take the exam.  It shocked him when he was notified he make the highest grade.

He sold his house and farm, traded his mules for two pretty horses, his wagon for a buggy and we moved to Newbern.

Fifty years later, I had my own “Uncle Onice” to play with at that same farm.  My Uncle John (who was Onice’s son) was not married when we were little and played tag, Old Maids, Authors, and Monopoly with us.  He chased us, and made us popcorn.  I got to ride on the tractor and the combine.  History does repeat itself, and probably much more than we realize.  

Heavenly Father, Help Us Remember

I am about to gear up to start school-school and to start church-school, i.e. Sunday School, i.e. Religious Education.  I teach fourth graders in RE and it is great fun.  This is a prayer that we prayed in RE last year and will pray again this year.  The prayer is not my original idea.  I heard such a prayer for RE teachers, loved it, and came home to copy the idea, adapting it for my fourth grade class.  At their age, their main areas for ministry are at home and in their classroom.  It is so easy to forget that the irritating, loud, not-so-smart, attention-seeking, or out-of-place child sitting in the next desk is a person, too, loved by God.  I guess it's easy for adults to forget, also.  

Here's the prayer...

Heavenly Father, help me to remember that the boy, who pushed me in line at lunch today, may be very hungry, because he does not have much food at his house and school lunch in the only time his stomach is full.

Heavenly Father, help me to remember that the girl who always gets in trouble in class for not paying attention, has a dad who yells at her every day.  She has a hard time thinking about school because she is worried about going home.

Heavenly Father, help me to remember that the girl whose paper you saw, the one with the F on it, that girl has no one at home to ask her what her grades are, no one to pay attention when the grades come in the mail at home.

Heavenly Father, help me to remember the girl in your class who cannot read does not have any books in her home.  No one snuggled with her at night and read to her when she was little before she fell sleep.   No one else can read in her home either.

Heavenly Father, help me to remember that the boy in class, who is so loud and so obnoxious, has no one paying attention in his life.  He sometimes feels invisible when he's not loud.

Heavenly Father, help us to remember that the boy in your class, who falls asleep almost every day in class, that he has teenage brothers who play loud music every night until 3 in the morning.  There is no one to remind them that their little brother needs his sleep.

Lord Jesus, help us to remember that the girl who cries anytime the teacher talks to her, that she has a little sister who is very sick.  Her parents needs to spend all their time with the little sister and she is feeling very scared and lonely now.

Holy Spirit, help us to remember that what we see is not the whole story.  You take care of everyone, but help us to remember that we must  be your arms, your voice, your legs.  

Help us remember.

Amen

That's My Girl

2:30 pm "I've decided to become a vegetarian. You'll have to take the chicken out of the chicken noodle soup."

 7:00 pm "Would you make me some pigs in a blanket?"

Once upon a time...

She moved into the apartment the weekend before the 4th of July.  It was a new job, a new town, a new salary, and, of course, a new apartment.  She had never lived in a town that large or lived in an apartment with a pool.  She'd hit the big time.  She had moved over 600 miles for this adventure, after searching the nation for a unique job that would excite her.  And she had found it, in this university town that would come to mean more to her than she could ever imagine.  

The first week of her work went well.  Then Saturday came.  New town, new adventures.  What to do, what to see?  First on the list was going to the apartment pool.  How fun to just run down to the pool with a towel!  The sign on the fence said pool should be open but it was locked.  Disappointing.  Well, on to plan B.

Back to the apartment to peruse the map.  She had just driven 600 miles so it would be no problem to drive to where ever.  She picked out a state park about 75 miles away. Maybe there would be a place to swim there.

As she dumped her towel and purse in her car in the apartment parking lot, a man passed her and said, "Too bad the pool is locked."  He walked on to his car. Who was he?  How did he know that she wanted to go to the pool?  She wondered about him all the way to the park.  Maybe she should have asked him to come with her.  That would have been interesting.  But you can't just meet a man in the parking lot and ask him to go some place with you.  Even though that would be bizarre and possibly dangerous, she thought about him off and on the rest of the day.

The next day was Sunday and the pool was open.  A day at the pool, and, guess what?  That  same man was at the pool.  He lived in the apartments.  Soon introductions were made.  He was a sun worshiper and, while she was not a fan of the sun, she certainly could stay out in the sun for the right reasons.  They spent much of the day together at the pool.  By the end of the day, he asked her to go to the Fourth of July party the next day at a local city park.  She accepted and they spend a second day together.  

Back to work the next week, another good week.  The next Friday evening came and she heard a knock on apartment door.  She looked through the peephole and there was her new friend.

Almost 30 years later, my friend is still here, sitting right now beside me.  We married over two years after we met.  He was the first "non-work" person I met at my new home, new town, new state.  Neither he or I were looking for romance at the time or, at least, neither of us would admit it.   I was entering an exciting time in my life and wasn't settled in enough to look around for dating.  While it was certainly "like" at first sight, neither of us admitted to anything such as "love" at first sight.  But when I retell this story, I realize maybe it was love at first sight.  We just didn't know it.   

Gaylord Texan - A Review

The view from our hotel room at the Gaylord Texan.  This is indoors!

This week, AT went off for her first camp, at age 13.  She had never been interested until this year.  So...what to do, what to do?  When the cat's away....

EM and I decided that we needed to go on an outing, maybe to the Dallas area.  We had never gone on a "vacation" without AT.  He came up with the great idea that we go to the Gaylord Texan for one night.  I had toured the hotel once before, but had never stayed the night.  EM had never been there.  Our interests of road trips, dancing, water play and food would be rolled into into one, fun-filled 24 hours.  Start your engine and hold the car door open!

We arrived at 11:00 AM with the possibility of an early check-in and immediately had a room.  The staff always seemed delighted to be able to assist.  There was no detail missed by a staff person.  It was like Disney World for adults.  EM was fascinated with how every detail  seemed to be perfect.  Who has that job of reviewing every corner? They were certainly doing a great job.  What a fascinating operation!  As an aside, I was intrigued with iPad sightings.  The concierge at the entrance had an iPad in hand.  An iPad was at the pool, at a restaurant, in the hands of the leader of the band.

EM waited until we were in the Grapevine area to purchase needed swim trunks.  I was about to pop with excitement about wanting to get quickly to the water park at the Gaylord, but I managed to keep myself calm.  He said, "But you said you wanted to shop at the mall."  Yes, I did, but that was when I thought we would have time to kill, before  I learned about early check-in!  He quickly found his burnt orange swim trunks (think Texas) and a Texas hat for his poor head in the pool, since he forgot his hat.  He is not a Texas fan, so I teased him about that, but he fit in well at the resort.  

By the time we were back at the Gaylord, we were hungry.  We entered the sports bar, Texas Station, which had a 52 foot long TV screen.  Interesting.  We ordered a monster burger to share and it was a monster, a Kobe burger with pulled pork piled on top.  We were glad we were sharing.  After our monster burger, we headed for the water park.  You put on your bathing suit, a cover up and take nothing else but your room key and get on the shuttle to go about a mile. We have been in bigger water parks.  This one just had a lazy river and water slide, but was still fun. We learned that Wednesday is a perfect day to hit a place like this.  There were not many people and we easily got lounge chairs (often a problem in resorts).

Our first time around the lazy river was the most fun.  EM and I "tied" up together with our inner tubes and he ended up (with my help) going under every waterfall.  Lots of laughter.  Twice down the water slide was plenty for us.  We found lounge chairs with the legs in the water.  After we tired of the sun, we took the shuttle back to hotel and went to the hotel pool, which appeared to be a more grownup up place. We had a total of about 4 hours total in the sun.  We did not get sunburned except each of us had a spot where we neglected to put sun screen on!  Good sunscreen.  

The fun continued.  When it came time for supper, we had to eat Italian, EM's favorite. EM had the spaghetti and a great Cesar salad.  I had the "jumbo crab cakes".  I love crab cakes.  It was an appetizer and I thought since it was "jumbo" it would be plenty.  The crab cakes were quite petite and fancy, with an artichoke spear, endive, and a olive, caper, pepper compote.   It was excellent and it was plenty, but about halfway through my meal, I had to laugh.  I realized the crab cakes were from a "jumbo crab", and were not supposed "big crab cakes".  I'm glad Mrs. Clampett didn't decide to complain about the "jumbo" part.

The waiters here wear their place of birth on their name tags, good way to start a conversation.

The final piece of our plan was to go dancing.  So we loaded up on the shuttle to go to the Glass Cactus, the resort's nightclub.  We are old and early people.  Nightclubs don't really get started until 10:00 for the young people.  We got there about about 7:30. There was a beautiful view of the sunset.  At 8:00, the band, Limelight, started. We had no idea who they were.  They are Dallas-area band.  Wow!  Did we ever luck up!  The band was a 10 piece band, playing everything - Chicago, Michael Jackson, oldies, Black Eyed Pea.  They were full of personality; it seemed like they were having a blast.  We immediately got up to dance (the only people on the dance floor - it didn't bother us). They played Michael Buble's, Sway, just for us because we were dancing.  The band had a 3 piece brass section and, with different songs, they would go out on the floor or next to the tables.  Every musician also took a turn as a lead vocalist.  At one point, we were the only dancers on the dance floor, with the band in a circle surrounding us!

After they played probably for a hour and a half, they took a break.  Most of that time we were dancing.   The DJ played mixed music and we did not dance to that.  When the band came back, I quickly found that my feet had blisters and were very sore.  So we danced a two more songs, listened for a while and shuttled back to the hotel.  

We then put our our hotel robes and sat in the dark on our balcony, watching the people below.  The next morning, we had breakfast at the restaurant by the riverwalk, then hit the road to be back home by 2:00.  

Mission accomplished.

Dear Grandmother

Today you would be 107 years old. It has been a long time since I wrote you a letter. You were such a good letter-writer with beautiful handwriting. Even when you apologized for your handwriting in the last years of your life, it was better than my left-handed writing is now. I remember going to my mail box when I lived in the dorm, reading your letters. You sent me letters no matter where I lived. I miss you and I miss those letters.

 EM and I continue the same, older, but not much different. At least, we don't think we are different. I'm sure photos show something different and AT insists were are different. You would not believe how much AT has changed and how much she has stayed the same. She was just almost four when you passed away. She is now a 13 year old teenager, in every sense of the word. She is beautiful, and strong, just a little taller than you. This week she is at cheer camp, her first camp away from home. She can do a backflip. You would not be surprised at that, but you would laugh aloud. She was always athletic, even as a toddler. She is at the push-pull time of trying to push her parents away, then reaching back for them. It has been painful for me. I am tearing up now as I write this. I have been the most important person in her life since she has been born. No longer. at least she tries to make it seem that way. Now, she is careful not to give me too much attention in public.

 We are still living in the same house. I know you loved my gardening efforts years ago. That all seemed to fade away once we had AT. I diverted all my attentions toward her. Now, that she is growing up and having more responsibilities around the house, I find I have more free time. Your naked ladies still come up around our house. I still have your hostas but they have not flourished in the hot Oklahoma air, like they do in more humid areas. Your pampas grass is doing great. Somehow your deep blue asters have disappeared. I suspect that EM had something to do with that. I plan to get some more someday. Your bridal veil bush bloomed and there was a successful tulip stand this year. I plan to add to the tulips for next year. I have just a few daffodils. I remember the thousands of daffodils you had in the woods lot. We just had a four inch rain yesterday. I'm not as confident a vegetable gardener as you were. Or maybe I'm just not as hard a worker as you.

 You might be disappointed that I do not quilt any more. It surprises me because I thought I would never give it up. But then there was a bouncing girl who would have made me prick my finger or would have landed on the needle or would have yelled for attention every time I moved the quilt onto my lap. And now that I have the time again, I don't have the interest. I still stay very busy in the craft area, mainly when I need to be practical and want to decorate for cheap. I love to paint walls and think of how you liked to paint because it made the room clean. You were so proud of the time you painted every piece of furniture in a bedroom green. Guess my favorite color!

 I think of you often, especially on Sunday mornings in church. Remember when I used to call you on Sunday afternoons and report on AT's behavior grade in church? It always made you laugh. Even at 13, she often gets a "C" for church behavior.

 I still have so many questions to ask you. For all the hours we spent talking, there is much more I need to know. How often did you ride a horse? How often did you go to town when you were a child? Who was the young man in the photo and what was he holding? He wrote a note to you on the back of the photo. Was he a romance or potential romance? I asked you how you met Granddaddy, but was there romance for you before Granddaddy? I'm sure you would have told me all of this and more. You loved to tell your stories. I remember you telling me about the first time you tasted chocolate, the first time you remember being angry. I've been the same way, telling stories with AT (although she's outgrown her need to hear my stories now). She used to beg for them, until I would say, "no more stories!" or "I can't think of any more!" Now, she quickly says "no more stories", herself.

I plan to age as you did. You were so practical. What happened, happened. With each stage, you seemed to adjust and find a way to enjoy that time. You are my model for the future. Happy birthday and I miss you very much...

 Love, Your Granddaughter

700 Sundays Book Review

I like to journal and, when I do, I imagine my daughter reading my words someday.  Maybe I'll pass on wisdom that she doesn't want to hear right now.  Maybe she'll see how intensely I loved her when she reads my entries 40 years from now.  I love to read the wisdom of other people, how they record their thoughts.  Sometimes I write down passages that move me.

I just completed Billy Crystal's memoir 700 Sundays.  I enjoy Billy Crystal, but, until I read this book, he was just an entertainer to me.  Now that I've read 700 Sundays, he will never be just an entertainer to me again.  He describes the love of his family as he relates the bittersweet mile markers in his life.

Here is a passage that made me cry.  While I am often moved by good writing, I almost never cry.  I cried with the wisdom and love in this passage.

From 700 Sundays...

     We're sitting at a table.  I'm sitting across from "Him," and there are five cards spread in front of me.
     I pick up the first. . ."Maybe five foot seven?"  Oh, come on.
     I turn over the second. . ."Lose your father when you're fifteen."  Can I get another card?
     My third card. . ."Have your mother her entire life."
     And the fourth. . ."Marry an incredible woman, have two beautiful daughters, and now your first granddaughter."
     The last one. . ."Get to do what you've always wanted to do since you first made them laugh in the living room."
     I hold the cards in my hand.  He stares me down.  I look at them one more time, but I don't really have to.  "I'm going to stick, and I'm going to raise you everything I have.  What do you got?"  I stare at him with confidence, waiting for God to make his move.  He stares back.   I smile.  He folds. . .He can't beat me.



Then my tears started.

Rainy Day

Today was such a relaxing day.  I have been working like a crazy woman over the past week, mainly house painting.  Serious house painting requires prep work, emptying rooms, moving furniture, sanding (furniture) removing ceiling fan blades and outlet covers, then replace everything.  Then see the small spots I missed.  I have finished painting a dresser, the hall bathroom and AT's room.  I had a self-imposed deadline.  I wore myself into a sore body.

So today, painting finished for the time being, my plan was to be unscheduled.  It rained this afternoon and I snuggled up on the couch behind AT, who was on the floor, watching childhood movies.  The room was darkened; the couch was so comfortable.  AT insisted that I was encroaching on her "alone" time.  I understand that she needs her alone time.  I enjoy mine.  Often, I try to give her the space that  a teenager craves.  But, sometime, I think I need to push in and ignore her protests.  I got oh-so-comfortable and watched The Incredibles and Sky High.   I think I snoozed.  I kept my comments to a minimum.  Did you know that Warren Peace in Sky High is VERY handsome and dangerous?  I did.  Did you know that, if I had a super power, it would be to be stretchable, like Mrs. Incredible?  I would use my arms to stop children from running in the halls at school.  

Meanwhile, AT's cell phone was going Bzzzz, Bzzzz with incoming texts.  So I decided to add my own.  I texted, "Smile at your mama if you love her."

I got my smile.

Blessed

Last night, I just sat by the TV all evening. I wondered if I was just lazy or if I still had lack of energy from this cold I have been nursing. Was I turning into a couch blob? But tonight, it is 7:00 and I am sitting down for the first time. Now, if I still had a little person, I would not be sitting down yet at all. But I am learning to enjoy my free time with having only a teenager at home. Today I came home, cooked a real supper, cleaned up, ran a store errand, and weeded half of the backyard. That's as good as it gets these days. In my 20s, I was free to lounge on the couch, as much as I wanted. We moved to a house and there was plenty to do, although there was plenty of rest then, too. We had a garden, Unfortunately, we did not grow vegetables; for some reason, I am hampered in that arena. I did grow herbs and flowers. At one point, I had collected over 100 varieties of plants. I know that because I have it recorded somewhere. In the 90s, we moved to the house we are in now and renovated it. It was a foreclosure house and it was as bad as you can imagine. There was always much to do. The first year or two, we did a great job with our flowers. With the renovations, EM was the primary worker and I was the minimum-wage, unpaid helper. He said I talked more than any helper he had ever had, but I pointed out that his other helpers were paid. I could be silent for a price also. This new house, along with renovations, was over twice the size of the old house. That's twice the vacuuming, dusting, bathrooms, etc. So I stayed busier. The gardens fell by the wayside.

Then, an miracle happened. We adopted a little girl. Then we were even busier, snuggling, laughing, chasing. Who cared about gardening? All that could come later. This year, I am determined to increase my gardening. Right now, we have poppies, poker plants, thyme and coreopsis is blooming. Lamb's ear is emerging. Tulips have bloomed and gone. Sunflowers, zinnias, thyme, and four o'clocks are up and blooming. Basil, blanket flower and green beans don't appear to be coming up. The last two Saturdays, I've been too busy to go to the farmer's market for baby plants. I have to have at least two basil plants. I hope to go this weekend. I'm ready to start seriously collecting plants again.

 Maybe I'm not lazy. Maybe I'm just blessed.

A Startle

Every time I step out on the back patio, I get a jolt.  First, because there is the face out there.  Second, because it looks like my good pot has been painted.  It really hasn't been painted.  EM put painter's tape on it.

 So, today, I stopped and decided to pull the tape off.  As I looked at it closely, I see that EM took some time to carefully draw out the eyes, nose, and mouth.  So I decided to leave the face alone.  And, yes, I have already told him that it startled me, so he is satisfied.  But don't you think the nose is upside down?

Middle School Moment

Middle school.  First day of sixth grade, but first you need some background.

AT attended a private preschool and kindergarten.  It was a magical place and was just around the corner from our house.  We often walked to or from school.  The children had to go outside every day for at least a little while to play no matter what the weather. We were encouraged to send them in old clothes so they could get dirty.  Children were allow to climb high in trees, as long as they could get themselves down.  The kindergarten teacher told me she was relieved when the big kindergarteners were leaving at the end of their school year because they almost reached her fear limit.  There were bicycles to ride, zip lines and rope swings to use.  The kids rode on a trailer in parades.   They had hay rides in our neighborhood.  They ran from the mythical "killer beaver" that lived in our creek.  If the city schools were out for snow, the school was open for sledding on the property.  On a snow day, I asked the teacher if she worried about the blades on sleds hurting someone, and she replied, "Oh, they have on thick clothes."  We loved this school.

Then first grade.  It was also within walking distance from our house.  It was a small public elementary school, with a great reputation, with only two classrooms per grade.  I was working where I work now - at a rural school 17 miles from our house.  I could have chosen for AT to attend school with me or stay in town.  Our town has good schools and I was determined that she would stay in town.  I wanted to have every chance to meet as many parents as possible so I would be ready for high school.

So I started AT in school in town with great hopes.  It was first grade.  She did not learn to read in kindergarten, but she had some good skills.  She could not have had more exposure to books.  At home, we usually read books twice a day.  She loved being read to.  She could rhyme words at age 3.  She knew her letters and sounds.  She was ready to go. 

But we hit the perfect storm.  Her first teacher quit after one month of school.  Her second teacher was an entry-year teacher.  The class was heavily weighted with special needs students.  If you have read my blog very many times, you know that I am a strong proponent of inclusion with special needs students, but this class was too heavily weighted with special needs students, behavior problems, and gifted readers.  My child was in the middle of the class and getting no attention at all.  I wanted to be relaxed about her learning to read.  She would do it on her own time.  But I was increasingly concerned at the school year progressed.  When I talked to the teacher, she did not seem to be concerned or have any suggestions.  How could my child, immersed  in reading as she had been, not be progressing more?  Should I be freaking out or relaxed?   Was she not learning to read because of poor instruction or because she had a true learning disability?  It was surely not because of lack of exposure at home.  By the end of the year, I wasn't the only one stressed.  AT was having physical symptoms, health problems, often crying when I dropped her off at school.  Something was stressing her and something had to change.

So, after fretting for months, I took her out of school and put her in my school for the last month of school.  By that point, I did not care what she learned.  I just wanted her to enjoy school.  Within two days, her new teacher sent home words that she needed to learn to read.  I realized I was just given the first piece of prescriptive information to work on at home.  This had not happened in her old classroom, in spite of my expressing my concern several times to the teacher.

On to second grade...at my school.  She was still behind in reading.  Her second grade teacher that year told me that, if she had not been my child (meaning she thought we would work at home), that she would have recommended that AT return to first grade.  And within 9 weeks, she was reading on the second grade level.  You decide:  maturation, or poor instruction.  We'll never know.

AT continued at my school until she completed elementary school.  The reading problem never appeared again.  I'm so glad we had those years together, all those rides together back and forth to school.  Inside the school,  AT's and my relationship was somewhat formal.  In general, she can be a very independent being.   If I passed her in line, we would smile and wave, but just as I wave at any other student.  However, there were a few moments when  "mean" girls were overwhelming and she ran to me after school and climbed up in my lap for comfort.  My heart hurt at the time, but now, I'm filled with thankfulness that I had those precious moments. 

The plan had always been for AT to return to the town school system for middle school.  My rationale was that, in high school, the larger school would provide more variety for AT's creative intelligence, her strength.   AT was very happy at my school and had many friends, so the summer after fifth grade, she was very frustrated with me.  Well, not frustrated.  Mad.  All summer, when people congratulated her on moving to middle school, she let her feelings be known.  "My mom is making me change schools.". I stayed firm.  She changed.

Now...back to middle school.  First day of school.  This was emotionally our Kindergarten year, at least in my mind.  Her true Kindergarten year and first grade were long past.  She had been with me at school for the past five years.  Now I was sending her off with strangers.  She was growing up too fast.  She was still frustrated with me for making her change schools.  We wandered around outside the school, looking for the sixth grade gathering area, then looking for the line for her homeroom teacher.  She said, "Don't leave me!"  I assured her I wouldn't until we found the right line.   Ahh, there it was.  I heard a teacher announce her teacher's name.  She was in the right line and I was about to cry.  I quickly told her.   "I'll be here to pick you up after school.  Love you." and turned away.  I did not turn back to look since I did not want her to see me cry.  I was about 50 feet away and I felt a hand on my arm.  I turned.  It was her, coming for one last "Love you."  She said, "Love you.  Are you crying?"  "Love you and no."  We both turned away and went on with our day.

Our Saturday

Marathoners, bikers, bicyclists, yard workers, toddlers, vintage cars, convertibles, everyone was out this morning at 8 AM.  It was a softly windy day, perfect temperatures.  We started our day at Midway Grocery.  AT was required to come with us, and, after she saw the unique grocery store/deli, she was charmed and interested in our day.  Midway is where EM's car club usually meets every Saturday.  Here below she is asking her dad if she can tell the old gentleman nearby that smoking is bad for his health.  She knew her dad would say no, but loved the opportunity to torment dad.

Midway is where the club usually meets on Saturday mornings; however, today it was just the starting point.  We headed our 10 car caravan, hot rods, street rods, vintage cars, south on Route 77 to a vintage airplane show.  We thought there was also going to be a car show, but there wasn't until our group showed up and drove through the barriers, parking next to the airstrip.

On the right is EM, admiring his car.  He loves it so.

The airplanes were fascinating and tiny.  I have only been up in a small plane once or twice.  For a while, planes were landing every 10 minutes.  Except for the heat of the day, which was certainly climbing by noon, I could have watched them all day.  

We heard that the planes used 25 gallons per hour.  Is this true?  Between the small interiors and the expensive gas, we decided that we would rather be in a Buick convertible.

Then, joy, we did some destination dining, one of my favorite hobbies.

EM and I had catfish.  I really wanted the BBQ, but am trying to be more determined about eating better EVEN IN A RESTAURANT!  I know fried catfish is not super healthy, but isn't it better than my first love, BBQ?  I did not have fries!  

We were home by 1:30 and AT ventured off to spend the night with a friend.  Tonight, EM, the convertible and myself are off at 10:30 to see the moon!

Have you noticed that I have photos for the first time in my blog?  No telling what long-winded photo-heavy blogs will be posted this summer when I am out of school.  Maybe there will be photos of the moon.  Don't expect much.  My photography skills and camera are not very powerful.  

Bucket List: Items #24 and #53

Today was a perfect Saturday.  The hot rod was up and running.  It was a beautiful, cool morning.  One of our goals has been put the hot rod in a parade (bucket list item #24).  This morning we loaded up a trash sack full of candy and drove about two miles to line up in the 89ers Day Parade.  EM's car club was in the parade, probably 40 cars.  After the parade, 170 cars entered a car show nearby.  The car show entry fee went to the Health and Shelter For Friends.

AT and her friend rode on the back of the backseat in the hot rod/convertible.  We had told AT that she had to ride in the parade, but it was her choice whether she asked a friend.  Being an young teen, it took her a while to decide.  You never know if your peers will like a particular activity.  But she and her friend both seemed to have a blast.  It was great fun watching everyone waiting for the candy and admiring the cars.  Of course, we ran out of candy before the end of the route, mainly due to EM throwing out huge handfuls of candy.  I finally stopped him.   One friend claimed we injured her with candy; I think she exaggerates.

From the parade, we pulled around to park at the car show.  AT and friend wandered around and, within an hour, peeled off to go with her friend's mother.  I walked about a mile back  to the beginning of the parade to pick up the truck then went home for a nap.  Our house was only about a mile from the parade and the car show.  After my nap, I went back to the car show.   EM and I hung out, waiting for the car show winners.  Of 170 entries, there were 35 winners.  All but 2 were numbers 100 and above.  EM was number 18.  Hmmmm....  Did we have a chance?  Anyway, it was fun watching people walk by the car and admire it. 

The car show was over at about two o'clock.  We were without child, with a convertible than needed to put miles on it, on a beautiful day.  EM came up with the idea of going to Eischen's in Okarche (bucket list item #53).   It is about a hour from our house.  We drove through Oklahoma City, and continued until we were in rolling hills and farmland.  The downtown of Okarche was only two blocks long and looked not very prosperous.  The town, however, was immaculate, homes in a variety of styles and values, but yards that were well-groomed.  The only booming business downtown was Eischen's Bar.  Now, move away from this blog, go to YouTube, and search for "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives: Eischen's Bar".  Watch it.  I'll wait here....

Inside, the atmosphere was definitely bar-like, but the place was filled with families, small children, and little old ladies.  We entered the bar.  We ordered a whole chicken, a beer and a wine cooler.  While we were waiting, EM and I played a game of pool (that was a joke in itself - my pool-playing abilities are pitiful) with two little boys watching us.  EM offered to pay for a game of pool for them, but they said they were too little.  And they probably were.

And the two of us ate a whole chicken (cut into pieces).  I have never done that in my life, but I have never had a whole chicken with no other sides.  I would have ordered the fried okra if there had been more people sharing food, but it was a huge order.  There were 10 people behind the bar, working as fast as if they were putting out a fire.  Basket after basket of whole chickens came out of the back.  Our plates were sheets of wax paper.  The chicken came only with sweet butter pickles and fresh onions that had been in soaking in the pickle juice plus white bread.  There are no other "sides".  There was no "healthy" food on site.

My momma makes wonderful fried chicken.  Matter-of-fact, when we happen to eat fried chicken out, we usually say, "This is not as good as Mother's fried chicken.".  When Mother makes her fried chicken, it's just elbows and forks at the table.  Well, this chicken just just as good as hers.   Mother's gets an extra point for having a pulley bone, which Eischen's did not have.  But Eischen's had onion slices in pickle juice. Score one for Eischen's.  It's a draw.

After our drive back to Norman, we dropped in on some good friends, who were gracious enough to welcome us.  Then, off to pick up AT from her friend's house.  A perfect Saturday.

Free Associations: My Week

My husband and daughter both drew me up short this week, reminding me that "other people have real problems" and "don't volunteer if you don't want to do something".  I was a bit busy and whiny one night, after going until 9 or 10 each night.  That's unusual for me.  Our lives are calmer than that most of the time.

Thursday, EM, with much excitement, drove to the city to pick up his hot rod.  It has been at the car upholstery shop for over six weeks.  Instead of hotrod, we call the car the convertible around here, but that doesn't convey to other people that it is his hobby car, so I've started calling it the hot rod to other people.  The last "official" work has been done on that car.  I say "official", because he will always be tinkering with it.  He has been almost lost without it in his garage the past few weeks.  The car now has a new convertible top, carpet lining in the inside and trunk, and door panel linings.  He brought it home at 8 in the morning.  It was his plan that I take off from my work in the early morning to bring back the red car.  But, being our CRT week at school (CRT = state standardized testing), I was testing and there was NO flexibility with that schedule.  

So, at 6:20 PM, we arrived at the car upholstery shop, to pick up the red car, which he had left there.  The shop had closed at 5:00.  As we pulled up, to our shock and dismay,   we could see that the red car had been hit and was wrecked badly.  Someone had backed into the car, pushing it about two feet back.  We (translate: EM) love our cars.  Once we owed a Metro for a short time, and EM even fell in love with that car, proudly showed it off, a car that once couldn't pull four people up a hill.  We once literally had to get out so the car could get up hill.

Anyway, EM is a great shade-tree mechanic.  He keeps our cars in pristine shape.  Most dings are repaired.  EM has bonded with the body shop owner and stops by to visit him on a regular basis.  The inside our cars are kept clean.  AT and I try to clutter the inside of the cars, but we manage to keep it to a minimum.  The oil is changed regularly;  the tires are rotated.  Our favorite white van, that was totaled while we were on vacation in Pennsylvania, had 300,000+ miles on it and showed no signs of stopping.  This newly wrecked red car has 150,000 miles on it and we planned to drive it for many miles more.    

But here's the rub.  When you total a well-care-for  and loved car, the insurance company does not love your car like you do.  Chances are very good that the red car will be totaled.  If so, they will write us a check, which is worth much less to us that the red car is worth to us.  We don't know how this is going to play out.  One possibility, if it is totaled, will be that we buy it from the insurance, and repair it ourselves.  We have to wait until Tuesday for the insurance estimate.

AT is trying out to be a cheerleader Saturday.  I am very proud of her.   She had worked hard.  I don't know cheer lingo so I need to study.  She can do a triple back tuck, one of only two girls who can.  Hope that helps.  She has been spent several evenings away from home, practicing.  She also had CRTs this week.  It's been a tough week for her also, and she may have handled it better than I did.  While I'm not really thrilled that she wants to be a cheerleader (would have been more excited about a botball expert), but she has worked very hard on this and I am pleased with her work ethic.  

I can see the end of the year approaching.  I just finished the last of my big evaluations/ paperwork this week.  I will have to schedule a few more meetings, but the most difficult ones are behind me.  I do like my job, but it is very fast paced.  I hit the ground running hard every morning.  This week, a parent asked a paraprofessional if I always moved that fast.  Yes, I do.  My schedule is packed with students and reports.  My organizational style, unfortunately, is to not organize my desk when I have more pressing things to do such as write reports or see children.  I just can't justify making my desk pretty when there are more pressing things to do.  This week, I just may get to clean off that desk!  We're out of school on May 18th.  I already feel relaxed on Sunday evenings, knowing that the more relaxing days are coming soon.  I already have my list of projects.  Whoops!  That doesn't sound relaxing.  Well, I plan to work and relax. 

Oh, and what a treat!  Friday, I raced a tornado.  We were expecting an unsettled weekend, weather-wise, but expected it to start after school.  Friday, the buses were loaded about 15 minutes early, to try to get students home before the tornado hit.  Two years ago, we had a horrible tornado at our school and community (not in Norman proper, where I live).  There was a death, debilitating injuries, and homes blown away.  Our administration building was blown away.  So we're a bit scared from it.  Friday, the buses all left and I left at my regular time.  Apparently, the buses were called back to the school and some people stayed until after five o'clock.  Our area survived the tornado, luckier than some other areas in the state.  

Free associations:  the end.

My Girls!

I just glanced at my back patio and wished again for the healing, deep laughter of last Saturday night.  I have a wonderful group of lady friends and we were all on the patio last weekend.  Our plan is to get together every month.  But, you know, the best laid plans....  It was the first time in months that we had been together. These are busy ladies.  All are working.  All are married and most still have teenagers at home.   There have been months when I've had too much going on at home to meet up with the others.  We have kick-started our group again recently.  Hopefully.  Permanently. 

We are all in the elementary teacher field, which gives us a twisted sense of humor.  You should hear us hooting and hollering about school experiences.    I think it is similar to medical humor.  Unless you are in the field, you don't need to hear it.  One person reported on the naked neighbor, one on supervisor problems and another with amazing news of a wedding the previous weekend (her own! - on the down-low).  One can do great impressions of any wayward elementary student she meets.  Lots of laughing.  Loud, raucous laughter.  Laughter that stretches to the bottom of your toes.  Something that we all needed. 

Almost every single person in the group of eight has has gone through a serious tragedy in the past few years.  The group has literally dealt with death, near death, and very serious illnesses.  There have been very tough moments, financially, personally, and professionally.  Each person managed it with such strength.  The changes will affect the rest of our lives.  Some appeared to have recovered.  For others, the scars are deeper.   We are ladies in our 50s (well, there may be one not there yet, my apologies to you!).  The natural drama of our lives is going to speed up, not slow down. 

These are my models for how to move into the future.  One person is special because she in "my friend" and strong.  Another is wise.  One is brave.  One is creative.  One is loving.  One is classy and calm.  One is a seeker.  All can laugh.  The years ahead will hold increasing challenges.  Here's to many years together! God bless us all.

5 Tips for the School Special Education Team

As a speech-language pathologist, I work in a school that I love and have enjoyed watching us teachers struggle, grow with, and enjoy the various challenges in an inclusive school.  I know that the teachers don't always consider it fun, since having a special needs child in the classroom can be very challenging, but, since I can have the privilege having the students move from grade to grade,  I can really see the progress.     As the elementary speech-language pathologist, in the same school for 13 years, I see how students, teachers and programs mature and change over the years.  Some things we get wrong, some things still need to be changed, but, many things, we get right.  Today's blog is a list of suggestions for school special education teams gleaned from my years of experience as a speech-language pathologist.

1.          There is a reason for the word "team".  I would like to think that I have thought of every strategy, method, and reinforcement, but, the truth is, I haven't.   And I can't.  I consider myself an "expert" in several areas.  However, I use the word "expert" in what I consider the best way to use it.  I am expert enough to know that there is always more information that I need.  I can see over the hill that there is more to learn.  I am often stumped for ideas.  There is always a better way to do  it.  There is always something I don't know.  I constantly look for better, more efficient, more effective.  Many days, I fall short and my team mate may be just the person with the right answer. 
2.      The parents are the primary members of the team and their child is the center of the IEP (Individualized Education Plan).  You may be an expert in your specific area, but the parents are the experts concerning their own child.  Recognize that expertise.   Encourage parents to tell you "no" if you suggest something they do not like.  Ask for ideas.  Ask for approval.  IEP's can always be altered and changed.  For the "young" parents, new to the process of an IEP (Individualized Education Plan), they are still not comfortable.  They need to learn to feel their comments and ideas are welcomed.  If you as the parent are unhappy in October and you don't complain, you'll be more unhappy in January.  The problem will be compounded.   Call the principal.  Call for a team meeting.  Speak up.  One of my roles is to encourage the parents speak up. 
3.      As a special education team member, I have responsibilities to the classroom teacher.   The most obvious one is to share expertise and strategies.  However, often, our very experienced teachers are doing an excellent job, more effective as I can imagine.  Over the years, I've come to see debriefing as an important part of my job.  Teachers know they are charged with the duty to help the child change and grow.  They feel the pressure to help their student progress.  It is not a comfortable place for the teachers to be when they have a student who is not progressing quickly enough.  Teachers look to me to have the answers, even when I know I don't have the answer.  I need to tell that teachers that changes don't always happen in a week.  But changes do happen.  I reassure the teachers that they will be amazed at the progress they will see over a longer period of time.
4.      Inclusion is critical.  The classroom is the yardstick of typical behavior for the teacher.  There are a wide range of typical student behavior and typical academic development.  For example, all students do not learn to read in Month Three of first grade.  The teacher looks to the classroom to decide how to push her students.  What are typical first grade study skills?   How well should a kindergartener sit a circle time?  How many math problems should a fifth grader complete in 10 minutes?  A student with special needs may not have typical behavior, study skills, or math skills.  However, by using the "classroom yardstick", the teacher knows what the target is.  The first grader who cannot complete the first grade work, may be able to work for five minutes.  The special needs kindergartener may sit for 5 minutes at the first of the year, then work to sit the required 10 minutes by the end of the year.  In the experience at our school, we are surprised with just how much progress can be made over a year.  The expectations are high and typical classroom skills are always the target.  When a student is in a fully self-contained classroom, the classroom teacher does not have that typical behavior "classroom yardstick". 
5.      Watch your team for personality conflicts.  Here I'm thinking of parents  and specific school team members conflict.  It happens.  Sometimes one team member is more empathetic with a specific parent than another.  A parent may object to a specific school team member for some known or unknown reason.  There are times for a school team member to be quiet.  

Give yourself credit.  You have loads of experience.  Reassure the parent about your experience.   Reassure the parent that you fully expect their child to make good progress.  Consider yourself an expert in the best sense of the term.  You are expert and know what you are doing, but you are also expert enough to know that there are always new skills for you to learn, new strategies to try.  You're part of a team.  

7 Reasons for Spring Break

or 7 pieces of evidence that I may be losing my mind!

1.    Yesterday I forgot to do my recess duty for, probably, the second time in 10 years.

2.    Yesterday, I arranged for my daughter to be picked up after school, but couldn't remember why until noon.  I had to stay at work until 8:00

3.    Two days ago, EM and I forgot a dance class.

4.    Two weeks ago, I forgot a dental appointment.

5.    Two weeks ago, I was sick and forgot to cancel with a observation by a college student (she has not replied to my apologetic email).  I really thought she was coming the next day, but my school appointment book was, get this, at school.  I feel horrible about this.

6.    A week ago, I was driving on the way to school when I got a call from EM asking why I was not taking AT to school that morning.  I am the default transportation for AT to school each morning, but, if EM's schedule allows, he takes her.  We always check in with each other.  I was thoroughly convinced it was his day.  When I was about 10 minutes from home, EM called and asked why I had already left.  He said I was supposed to take AT to school.  He was right.
7.  And, last, but not least, (drumroll here) I left my bag  in the trunk of my car with my wallet, iPod Touch and iPad.  This was so I would be ready to zoom out of school after our evening school program.  So I wouldn't lose any time.  So I could be efficient.  When I later got back to the car that night, the trunk was open and my heart stopped.  Would my electronics still be in the car?  Yes, it all was there.  I was the guilty party.  I'm sure in my haste to get inside the school earlier, I accidentally punched the "open trunk" button.  I'm a lucky girl.  

Here's to Spring Break.  Hope it arrived in time!