August 27, 2009
House Update
Progress has been made on the house. That is an understatement: Tons of progress has been made on the house. The countertops below are not granite, just a good imitation of it
.
.
August 23, 2009
More "Oh" days
My Granddad died August 5th. My sister, 1 year old niece and I took a road trip to Georgia for his funeral. (I don't fly if I can help it.) It was a good trip. Last week I stayed busy with inservice.
Tomorrow is our first day back to school with kids. I am nervous as usual. Well...maybe nervous is not the right word...anxious might be better. I am not worried like I was my first year of teaching. I used to worry if they kids would eat me for lunch. My ESL kids are angels though...mostly. I worry now, in my 3rd year teaching (can't believe it has been that long), that I won't be an effective teacher. I want to equip my kids with the knowledge and skills they will need in the future. There are days that I feel as ineffective as a fish flopping around out of water. I hope this year I have more days where I feel like the kids understand something they didn't before. This year I pray for more "Oh, now I get it" days!
I'm reading a book called The Wednesday Letters. So far it is really good. It makes me want to write my own Wednesday letters, maybe I'll write one this week.
Tomorrow is our first day back to school with kids. I am nervous as usual. Well...maybe nervous is not the right word...anxious might be better. I am not worried like I was my first year of teaching. I used to worry if they kids would eat me for lunch. My ESL kids are angels though...mostly. I worry now, in my 3rd year teaching (can't believe it has been that long), that I won't be an effective teacher. I want to equip my kids with the knowledge and skills they will need in the future. There are days that I feel as ineffective as a fish flopping around out of water. I hope this year I have more days where I feel like the kids understand something they didn't before. This year I pray for more "Oh, now I get it" days!
I'm reading a book called The Wednesday Letters. So far it is really good. It makes me want to write my own Wednesday letters, maybe I'll write one this week.
August 5, 2009
Library burning...
Mixed emotions emerge and all I want to do is suppress them all. My Granddad is dying; really he has been dying for a couple years now from Alzheimers. Part of me feels that Granddad died when he forgot who I was or even before that when he lost the personality and spunk he used to have. I didn't think I would react much when I got the expected call saying he has hours to live but I did. I didn't break down and fall to pieces but my heart hurt. I feel the mourning begin there, like tears without the water and salt.
Guilt because I have not recently visited the shell that once was my Granddad. Sadness for many reasons. Joy that he will very soon be with God and his wife. Joy that he will no longer be in pain. Joy that he has had a good and long life
I recently heard the saying, "Everytime an old person dies, a library burns." With Poppop I spoke to him many times about his childhood, how he met Nana, being in WWII and many more things. I was familiar with the "books" in his "Library". I never had that with Granddad. I didn't know him well, not for lack of trying but because I wasn't around him except a week every summer. I didn't even know where to begin asking him about his youth. Well now all those stories, those memories die with him. For that too I mourn.
(I think that is why I write and journal, it is my earthly immortality. I wonder what God thinks of that. Is that arrogance and pride or is it ok?)
Guilt because I have not recently visited the shell that once was my Granddad. Sadness for many reasons. Joy that he will very soon be with God and his wife. Joy that he will no longer be in pain. Joy that he has had a good and long life
I recently heard the saying, "Everytime an old person dies, a library burns." With Poppop I spoke to him many times about his childhood, how he met Nana, being in WWII and many more things. I was familiar with the "books" in his "Library". I never had that with Granddad. I didn't know him well, not for lack of trying but because I wasn't around him except a week every summer. I didn't even know where to begin asking him about his youth. Well now all those stories, those memories die with him. For that too I mourn.
(I think that is why I write and journal, it is my earthly immortality. I wonder what God thinks of that. Is that arrogance and pride or is it ok?)
August 4, 2009
We have the correct color brick now!
We also have Sheet Rock!!
I got a little label happy. I think you probably knew that this was the fireplace without me having to label it.
In the Kitchen:
The really exciting Laundry room!
This is right next to the Library sitting area which was one of the first pictures I posted on this blog entry.
August 2, 2009
PWLA Writing 1
I am attending the Plano Writing Leadership Academy and having lots of fun! I am learning lots that I can do with my students in school.
Our assignment was to look at an excerpt from The Great Gatsby (they gave us the excerpt). Then we were to model our writing after that. Here is what I came up with:
This is my South West—not cacti or tumble weeds or barren endless sand, but memories of my life, biking in a suburban neighborhood down to Bob Woodruff Park, a green, open, luscious place, where dogs run and people chase Frisbees, people fish and where children feed the ducks and are chased by geese, where balloon festivals were held, where nature trails meander and my husband proposed and feelings of happiness, peace, amazement, beauty, nostalgia and contentment prevail. The southwest holds memories of walking to the neighborhood 7 11 to buy an excess of candy in 100’ blue skies, playing Barbie with a neighborhood of friends. It is camping with my family or with Girl Scouts, night hiking, riding horses on a wooded trail, singing camp songs happy and sorrow-filled and haunted, raccoons eating peanut butter at night in our cabin, sleep walking down wild trails, stepping on a snake…barefoot, teen-age pranks in the night, wild temperature dropping from 80’ to 30’ in 4 hours, almost earning our Polar Bear Badge in tents, sitting in warm afternoon air working on cross-stitching a yellow rose of Texas, learning to bead from a Choctaw woman in the woods. Whether golden leaves falling, branches bare and clanging, yellow-green leaves budding or summer leaves blowing in the wind, always friends around…That, is my Southwest.
Our assignment was to look at an excerpt from The Great Gatsby (they gave us the excerpt). Then we were to model our writing after that. Here is what I came up with:
This is my South West—not cacti or tumble weeds or barren endless sand, but memories of my life, biking in a suburban neighborhood down to Bob Woodruff Park, a green, open, luscious place, where dogs run and people chase Frisbees, people fish and where children feed the ducks and are chased by geese, where balloon festivals were held, where nature trails meander and my husband proposed and feelings of happiness, peace, amazement, beauty, nostalgia and contentment prevail. The southwest holds memories of walking to the neighborhood 7 11 to buy an excess of candy in 100’ blue skies, playing Barbie with a neighborhood of friends. It is camping with my family or with Girl Scouts, night hiking, riding horses on a wooded trail, singing camp songs happy and sorrow-filled and haunted, raccoons eating peanut butter at night in our cabin, sleep walking down wild trails, stepping on a snake…barefoot, teen-age pranks in the night, wild temperature dropping from 80’ to 30’ in 4 hours, almost earning our Polar Bear Badge in tents, sitting in warm afternoon air working on cross-stitching a yellow rose of Texas, learning to bead from a Choctaw woman in the woods. Whether golden leaves falling, branches bare and clanging, yellow-green leaves budding or summer leaves blowing in the wind, always friends around…That, is my Southwest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)