My grandfather is sick. Really really sick.
We went to see him this weekend since it may be the last time.
In honor of him, I post this old Bloghead post. I think it is still my favorite post yet.
We have hard wood floors in our house. They are real hard wood floors, not the kind you have to sand down twice a year like my grandfather had years and years ago, but the kind you can clean by rubbing a nice clean sock on the spill. I don’t have to think about the upkeep of the floor, really. I just spend a few minutes on them every once in a while, with an actual mop, and I forget about them for the next several days. Considering the level of slactitude in my house, it is amazing that it even gets done once a week. Needless to say, I like them, I am glad I have them, and they are considered very special when visitors see them, but I don’t really think much about them on a daily basis. Who would really? I am sure there is some internet site out there about someone’s obsession with hard wood floors…
My grandfather was in town recently, and we had quite a few conversations about our hard wood floors. I hadn’t really thought much about them till those conversations. Funny how you our thoughts work when you really focus on something.
I have also been thinking about my grandfather lately. Again, funny how you our thoughts work when you really focus on something. He is a hard man, who had a hard, hard life. You can tell by his calloused hands that he was no stranger to working hard. He is hard to talk to, not because he has nothing to say, but because you have to scream at him to have him hear you. As hard as he is, there was something soft about him, a shine in his eyes, like the shine on the hard wood floors, I don’t remember noticing until this visit.
He didn’t want to come on this trip, I know. His bones ache and his arthritis is so bad, that travel is not fun for him. He is set in his ways and likes his own space, so the trip was not his idea of a great time. So the fact that he was actually coming was a big surprise to everyone, I think. But as the trip progressed, as he visited with family and friends and talked about old times and times to come, I could see that spark in his eye. He was actually glad he came, I know. And I am glad he came too.
You see, my grandfather, like those hard wood floors, is tough, and a relationship with him is something I take for granted, something I hadn’t worried too much about maintaining. I realized this weekend, that family is the most important thing to him. It is the thing that makes him shine. I also realized that I needed to not just rub a clean sock across my relationship with my grandfather, I need to get rid of my slactitude and work hard at polishing and maintaining my relationship with him. Maybe one day, I can stand back and look at my relationship with my grandfather and admire it, like I now admire my hard wood floors.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Not just a job. It's an adventure!
About a week ago, all of the teachers at my school got an email in
their inbox telling us to be on the look out for Mr. G's hamster that
was officially on the loose. Every once in a while, I would check in
with Mr. G and ask him if anyone had found the lost little friend. No
such luck. So of course, none of us were surprised when we began our
day on Friday and noticed a little brown creature hurrying and toddling
on little legs down the hall. All kids were silent and strangely still
as they watched the hamster make her way down the edge of the hallway.
Luckily, three teachers were there and were ready and waiting to catch the
little friend and return her back to Mr. G, who had of course fixed the
cage in preparation for her return.
I happened to be picking up Isabel for our lesson when this whole thing began and we were able to stand from the sidelines and watch the action. Boy did she and I feel
important in the fact that we could give first hand information about
the capture of the lost hamster! "Wow!" I said, "What an exciting
day!!"
And Isabel and I spent our morning feeling pretty happy we had experienced some excitement.
About 1:30 pm, I began to hear noises. Was that a helicopter? Teachers were
quickly leaving their classrooms during planning time to run outside
and look. Helicopters were circling our playground in a very frantic
fashion. Then we heard that the school right next to us was onlockdown and no one was able to leave their rooms.
Shouldn't we not do the same?, we wondered as we stood outside.
One check of the news on the internet let us know that there was a killer on the loose. He had murdered his wife and step children, dropped off his own bloody 3 year old at a
church, and headed down the road. Police had him cornered in his car in
a driveway down the road from us.
We were on full alert. Excitement once again was in the air.
We spent the rest of the day trying to deal with dismissal and ways to get
kids safely with their parents and at home. This meant not letting the
walkers walk, and only letting kids go when their parents showed up.
Trying to arrange this was not fun, but with all of us working
together, we made it happen. At 6:15 we only had four children left, so
we were able to go home and leave them with the administrators.
Friday morning, Isabel and I were feeling pretty special that we were part of
the action. By Friday night, we were all very thankful we were pretty
far away from it.
Our jobs, each day, come with lots of different challenges and excitement. Each day we teachers are called to do some things that are out of the ordinary. On Friday, we had to go
above and beyond and do more. It isn't just a job, it is an adventure
and I am thankful for every exciting and boring time of it.
their inbox telling us to be on the look out for Mr. G's hamster that
was officially on the loose. Every once in a while, I would check in
with Mr. G and ask him if anyone had found the lost little friend. No
such luck. So of course, none of us were surprised when we began our
day on Friday and noticed a little brown creature hurrying and toddling
on little legs down the hall. All kids were silent and strangely still
as they watched the hamster make her way down the edge of the hallway.
Luckily, three teachers were there and were ready and waiting to catch the
little friend and return her back to Mr. G, who had of course fixed the
cage in preparation for her return.
I happened to be picking up Isabel for our lesson when this whole thing began and we were able to stand from the sidelines and watch the action. Boy did she and I feel
important in the fact that we could give first hand information about
the capture of the lost hamster! "Wow!" I said, "What an exciting
day!!"
And Isabel and I spent our morning feeling pretty happy we had experienced some excitement.
About 1:30 pm, I began to hear noises. Was that a helicopter? Teachers were
quickly leaving their classrooms during planning time to run outside
and look. Helicopters were circling our playground in a very frantic
fashion. Then we heard that the school right next to us was onlockdown and no one was able to leave their rooms.
Shouldn't we not do the same?, we wondered as we stood outside.
One check of the news on the internet let us know that there was a killer on the loose. He had murdered his wife and step children, dropped off his own bloody 3 year old at a
church, and headed down the road. Police had him cornered in his car in
a driveway down the road from us.
We were on full alert. Excitement once again was in the air.
We spent the rest of the day trying to deal with dismissal and ways to get
kids safely with their parents and at home. This meant not letting the
walkers walk, and only letting kids go when their parents showed up.
Trying to arrange this was not fun, but with all of us working
together, we made it happen. At 6:15 we only had four children left, so
we were able to go home and leave them with the administrators.
Friday morning, Isabel and I were feeling pretty special that we were part of
the action. By Friday night, we were all very thankful we were pretty
far away from it.
Our jobs, each day, come with lots of different challenges and excitement. Each day we teachers are called to do some things that are out of the ordinary. On Friday, we had to go
above and beyond and do more. It isn't just a job, it is an adventure
and I am thankful for every exciting and boring time of it.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
A few letters...
Often, as I am out, I will compose letters to people. Not just anyone, mostly people who frustrate me or make me happy. It's a letter of extremes. I very rarely think to write a letter to the every-man on the street just minding his/her own business. I do, however, think to write letters in my head about things that irritate me or make me smile.
So, as I sat in the movies yesterday, I eloquently composed a few letters... here they go. Not so eloquent, but effective none the less.
Dear Lady with TWO babies at a PG-13 movie...
I understand that this is the Simpson's movie and you think it is a cartoon. I understand that you very probably allow your children to watch the Simpson's at home while you make dinner. I understand that you very possibly are one of those parents who allow their youngster to also watch South Park just because it is a cartoon and cartoons must all be for kids. I also understand that you probably have the IQ of Homer Simpson's nose hair. Now, taking that into consideration, I find it helpful to remind you of a few things. Movies rated PG-13 are usually rated that way for a reason. The ratings board didn't just arbitrarily come up with that 13 number cause they thought it was lucky. No. There is a reason. There are bad words. There is casual nudity. There is violence. It is the freakin' Simpson's for goodness sake. So, please understand that this movie is not appropriate for your child who happens to be 11 years below the PG-13 limit.
Also know that children that age get bored. My goodness, I get bored after 30 minutes of ANYTHING, so your child must get bored too.
Please know that when your child makes noise in the movie theatre, they are trying to tell you that they are bored. Now would be a good time to leave and find another activity for them to do. Please do not wait till they are screaming at the top of their lungs. It isn't fun for you, the child, or me, who happens to be sitting the next row down from you.
Really. I promise.
So, lady with children at the movies, I hope you take this with all the love that is intended and leave your freakin' kids home. We will all be better off.
Thanks and Love ya!
Also,
Dear Movie Theatre,
If you say the movie begins at 4:40, make it start at 4:40! I don't want to watch the commercials of the commercials before the previews. I don't want to watch some guy interviewing fake people. I just want to watch the movie...on time! If you are doing that in order to accommodate the late people then tough. They should have figured out that they needed to plan better. What? You missed half the movie cause you couldn't get you and your twelve children all ready? Oh. That is too bad. Try again some other time.
Love ya!
Oh, and finally...
Dear People of Earth,
Alvin and the Chipmunks were freakin' HI-larious when I was 10. Once you become a teenager, the magic sort of ends. Really, this is one part of retro we can do without, don't you think?
start working on that.
Thanks so much!
Kisses!
So, as I sat in the movies yesterday, I eloquently composed a few letters... here they go. Not so eloquent, but effective none the less.
Dear Lady with TWO babies at a PG-13 movie...
I understand that this is the Simpson's movie and you think it is a cartoon. I understand that you very probably allow your children to watch the Simpson's at home while you make dinner. I understand that you very possibly are one of those parents who allow their youngster to also watch South Park just because it is a cartoon and cartoons must all be for kids. I also understand that you probably have the IQ of Homer Simpson's nose hair. Now, taking that into consideration, I find it helpful to remind you of a few things. Movies rated PG-13 are usually rated that way for a reason. The ratings board didn't just arbitrarily come up with that 13 number cause they thought it was lucky. No. There is a reason. There are bad words. There is casual nudity. There is violence. It is the freakin' Simpson's for goodness sake. So, please understand that this movie is not appropriate for your child who happens to be 11 years below the PG-13 limit.
Also know that children that age get bored. My goodness, I get bored after 30 minutes of ANYTHING, so your child must get bored too.
Please know that when your child makes noise in the movie theatre, they are trying to tell you that they are bored. Now would be a good time to leave and find another activity for them to do. Please do not wait till they are screaming at the top of their lungs. It isn't fun for you, the child, or me, who happens to be sitting the next row down from you.
Really. I promise.
So, lady with children at the movies, I hope you take this with all the love that is intended and leave your freakin' kids home. We will all be better off.
Thanks and Love ya!
Also,
Dear Movie Theatre,
If you say the movie begins at 4:40, make it start at 4:40! I don't want to watch the commercials of the commercials before the previews. I don't want to watch some guy interviewing fake people. I just want to watch the movie...on time! If you are doing that in order to accommodate the late people then tough. They should have figured out that they needed to plan better. What? You missed half the movie cause you couldn't get you and your twelve children all ready? Oh. That is too bad. Try again some other time.
Love ya!
Oh, and finally...
Dear People of Earth,
Alvin and the Chipmunks were freakin' HI-larious when I was 10. Once you become a teenager, the magic sort of ends. Really, this is one part of retro we can do without, don't you think?
start working on that.
Thanks so much!
Kisses!
Friday, July 20, 2007
What I did on my Summer Vacation...
listen to some awesome live music by the McKay brothers
Saw Ray Wylie Hubbard play with the Heathens....
The McKay Brothers...
Saw Ray Wylie Hubbard play with the Heathens....More Band of Heathens...
I even got to see Zack Walther without the Cronkites.
LOL!
I even got to see Zack Walther without the Cronkites.
LOL!
I sing songs about Texas....
I guess it must have started in Indiana, back in 1999, now that I think about it.
As you may or may not be aware, Fort Wayne, Indiana is uh, not quite like Anywhere in Texas.
I don't want to put down Fort Wayne. I did get to play in LOTS of snow that year, and we did get to learn the difference between menonites and amish. I did get to dip my feet into first grade, and learned that if you feed frogs too much, they get uh, fuzzy. But boy were we missing Texas. I think we were missing Texas on the drive to move in.
One day, BT came home all excited. He had discovered this Texas radio station on the internet. And they were playing this Texas song by this guy named Pat Green.
Ah, we were just one step away from Texas again. We had brought Texas music to Fort Wayne, and we were happy for a little while.
Thus began what we could consider a love story of grand proportions. Not only did we love Texas, but we now loved Texas music just as much.
We listen to our share of music these days. We can say Hey there Delilah along with the Plain White Ts and even enjoy some Amy Winehouse. We have all kinds of music on our ipods. I guess we had forgotten the old days. We had forgotten when we were missing Texas so much it hurt, when we flew the Texas flag in our house not only out of rebellion, but out of respect for what we loved.
This past week, we got to go back to our roots, and visit an old love...Texas Music.
I honestly think neither one of us will be the same.
Here's to you Gruene Hall. Here's to Ray Wylie Hubbard and the Drunken Poet's Dream (which by the way is the funniest song ever, next to Snake Farm). Let's all lift a Shiner to The Band of Heathens who are not only awesome, but nice enough to email me back. The McKay brothers who have Texas Hearts, and Mexican Souls. And for my BT for reminding me about the good days and helping me remember why I love Texas.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Tripping down memory lane
For my class I had to do this project. It was a "cultural and literacy autobiography" to find out where I came from and to understand why I am the way I am. Seems like it will take more than looking at an old yearbook to figure that out, but whatever.
Anyway, I did some research and wandered through web sites. The internet is a lovely thing.
A friend of mine in the class, after hearing my autobiography and realizing that I hailed from Clint, Texas, mentioned it to her friend who she rides to school with. Come to find out, that friend is best friends with someone who graduated a year before me.
Wow. I have always heard that phrase, "it's a small world" but I hadn't thought much about it until someone was actually best friends with someone from Clint, Texas. I mean, there were not that many people in Clint.
So, I scoped out yearbooks and checked out classmates and as I did, several people came to mind. Wonder what happened to... so and so.
Wonder where so and so is. Oh, and that so and so, he was voted most likely to succeed. I wonder if he did.
That kind of thing.
I haven't gotten many answers, but I don't know how much energy I have for the whole thing any more. I have found and gotten into contact with people who I really care about and have the energy for. The rest, I will just keep wondering about...maybe I will think about you again one day. Maybe our path's will cross and it will again be a small world. Till then, I am just enjoying my little corner of it.
Anyway, I did some research and wandered through web sites. The internet is a lovely thing.
A friend of mine in the class, after hearing my autobiography and realizing that I hailed from Clint, Texas, mentioned it to her friend who she rides to school with. Come to find out, that friend is best friends with someone who graduated a year before me.
Wow. I have always heard that phrase, "it's a small world" but I hadn't thought much about it until someone was actually best friends with someone from Clint, Texas. I mean, there were not that many people in Clint.
So, I scoped out yearbooks and checked out classmates and as I did, several people came to mind. Wonder what happened to... so and so.
Wonder where so and so is. Oh, and that so and so, he was voted most likely to succeed. I wonder if he did.
That kind of thing.
I haven't gotten many answers, but I don't know how much energy I have for the whole thing any more. I have found and gotten into contact with people who I really care about and have the energy for. The rest, I will just keep wondering about...maybe I will think about you again one day. Maybe our path's will cross and it will again be a small world. Till then, I am just enjoying my little corner of it.
Names and the Bad Word.
It has already been an interesting summer.
No being lazy and getting addicted to soap operas for me. OH no.
I can't be that lucky.
I am going to graduate school, driving hours to get to class every day and then reading reading reading on the hours I am not in class. Makes for a really super fun summer, let me tell you!
But I am really not complaining. I am learning a lot in my class and have had some adventures.
As part of my class, I am to tutor a child. I picked Destiny. She is darling but a struggling reader.
She is also an enigma.
I tried to get to know her the other day and she told me all about her family, some of the names are made up. I would be willing to bet you could pick out which ones.
The funny thing is, she kept trying to convince me that they were real.
Here was our exchange:
Me: Destiny, who lives in your house?
D: I have my mom, my dog, my dad, and all my brothers and sisters.
(to my knowledge there are only two brothers and no sisters)
Me: Really? What are all the brothers and sisters named?
D: well, Carlos, Michael, (those are the real ones) then there's... what's that kid's name? Oh yeah, David. Then there is Smokey and Fishy. They are my brothers too.
M: (thinking...really? when did your family turn into a mob movie?) Oh, I see. Smokey and Fishy. I have never heard of them.
D: Yeah, they are older and gone.
Me: I see. Tell me about the sisters.
D: Well, there is Queen, my mom named her that, and Horsey, my mom named her that too, and Unicorn, Pony, and Zebra. Yep. there are my sister's names.
OH MY.
But the best one came when I asked the Dog's name. I would be willing to bet that that one isn't made up.
Me: did you say you had a dog?
D: yes. It is a little brown dog that barks a lot.
Me: Really? so you don't like it?
D: I like it, but it is smelly all the time.
Me: hmmm. interesting. what is the dog's name?
D:Chingar (pronounced chingow)
Me: (shocked) uh, what did you say?
D: Chingar.
Me: Oh, I see.
D: sometimes my dad calls it poo poo.
Me: That is probably a better name for the dog.
Friends, those who aren't familiar with spanish slang, the word means Fuck.
On my way home from that meeting I called to tell my mom about the dog's name.
Ever the English teacher, decided she needed to know how to spell the word so she looked it up in her old Spanish/English dictionary and was surprised to not find it there.
We have since found the spelling and found all of the great ways in which you can insult someone with that word.
I never realized how much I would learn from this graduate class. I am sure there is more to come!
No being lazy and getting addicted to soap operas for me. OH no.
I can't be that lucky.
I am going to graduate school, driving hours to get to class every day and then reading reading reading on the hours I am not in class. Makes for a really super fun summer, let me tell you!
But I am really not complaining. I am learning a lot in my class and have had some adventures.
As part of my class, I am to tutor a child. I picked Destiny. She is darling but a struggling reader.
She is also an enigma.
I tried to get to know her the other day and she told me all about her family, some of the names are made up. I would be willing to bet you could pick out which ones.
The funny thing is, she kept trying to convince me that they were real.
Here was our exchange:
Me: Destiny, who lives in your house?
D: I have my mom, my dog, my dad, and all my brothers and sisters.
(to my knowledge there are only two brothers and no sisters)
Me: Really? What are all the brothers and sisters named?
D: well, Carlos, Michael, (those are the real ones) then there's... what's that kid's name? Oh yeah, David. Then there is Smokey and Fishy. They are my brothers too.
M: (thinking...really? when did your family turn into a mob movie?) Oh, I see. Smokey and Fishy. I have never heard of them.
D: Yeah, they are older and gone.
Me: I see. Tell me about the sisters.
D: Well, there is Queen, my mom named her that, and Horsey, my mom named her that too, and Unicorn, Pony, and Zebra. Yep. there are my sister's names.
OH MY.
But the best one came when I asked the Dog's name. I would be willing to bet that that one isn't made up.
Me: did you say you had a dog?
D: yes. It is a little brown dog that barks a lot.
Me: Really? so you don't like it?
D: I like it, but it is smelly all the time.
Me: hmmm. interesting. what is the dog's name?
D:Chingar (pronounced chingow)
Me: (shocked) uh, what did you say?
D: Chingar.
Me: Oh, I see.
D: sometimes my dad calls it poo poo.
Me: That is probably a better name for the dog.
Friends, those who aren't familiar with spanish slang, the word means Fuck.
On my way home from that meeting I called to tell my mom about the dog's name.
Ever the English teacher, decided she needed to know how to spell the word so she looked it up in her old Spanish/English dictionary and was surprised to not find it there.
We have since found the spelling and found all of the great ways in which you can insult someone with that word.
I never realized how much I would learn from this graduate class. I am sure there is more to come!
Friday, April 20, 2007
the best thing ever!
OMG!
I found the BEST thing today!!!
Jeus Bandaids!!!
Can you believe that they make Jesus bandaids?
ooh, Jesus, he heals your heart and your wounds.
Jesus, he puts you back together.
And coolest of all, inside, like cracker jacks, was this free prize!
A Jesus pencil topper!!!
OMG how cool is that?
this stuff is the best!
I can't wait to cut myself so I can use the Jesus bandaids.
:)
OK, I take that back. Knowing me, I will put them in the bathroom with all the first aid stuff and forget about them till BT hurts himself and has to wear a Jesus bandaid to work.
LOL!
What a great evangelism tool.
for sure.
speaking of evangelism tools, RLP has officially introduced people to Hugh and his new blog. He is reading the bible and making very Hughlike comments about them. This can only mean one thing...craziness ensues.
check it out here... Hugh's Bible Blog
Peace be with you...
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Marie Clay
It wasn't like we cared if she ever went to the latest parties. It wasn't like we even wanted to know what sort of car she drove. We certainly never saw her on the US weekly or on a gossip blog, but she was famous to me.
In truth, I remember thinking, she was just a grandma. Just someone who had a family and grandchildren and possibly great grandchildren and she lived her life simply, I figured. But she was also a researcher, a learner, a brilliant mind and she will be missed.
Marie Clay, to those of you who don't know, was the creator, founder of Reading Recovery...a reading intervention that has helped millions of struggling readers learn to be successful. I am a Reading Recovery teacher and I know first hand the legacy she has left behind.
Let me tell you about Markeesha, who had never had a book at her house until I handed her that green bag filled with books she could read. It was as if I had given her gold. She had two brothers in her house who were already in trouble, and she was just trying to stay afloat. Her mom was working two jobs and her dad was in jail and she stayed with grandma most of the time. She wasn't a reader when she began, but she BECAME a reader. She became successful and empowered. She became someone, and she knew it. Her whole personality changed. She became a child who believed in herself and in others around her. She moved from the timid, shy little girl, to a confident learner and reader. This was because of Marie Clay. This was because of Reading Recovery, and what I have learned through training for Reading Recovery.
I am forever thankful for the opportunity to learn to be a Reading Recovery teacher. I am thankful for the knowledge that I have gained. And I am thankful for Marie Clay, who looked like just a grandma, for making it all happen, for helping hundreds of teachers help millions of kids like Markeesha, learn to be someone in the world.
Rest in Peace, Marie Clay.
We will miss you.
In truth, I remember thinking, she was just a grandma. Just someone who had a family and grandchildren and possibly great grandchildren and she lived her life simply, I figured. But she was also a researcher, a learner, a brilliant mind and she will be missed.
Marie Clay, to those of you who don't know, was the creator, founder of Reading Recovery...a reading intervention that has helped millions of struggling readers learn to be successful. I am a Reading Recovery teacher and I know first hand the legacy she has left behind.
Let me tell you about Markeesha, who had never had a book at her house until I handed her that green bag filled with books she could read. It was as if I had given her gold. She had two brothers in her house who were already in trouble, and she was just trying to stay afloat. Her mom was working two jobs and her dad was in jail and she stayed with grandma most of the time. She wasn't a reader when she began, but she BECAME a reader. She became successful and empowered. She became someone, and she knew it. Her whole personality changed. She became a child who believed in herself and in others around her. She moved from the timid, shy little girl, to a confident learner and reader. This was because of Marie Clay. This was because of Reading Recovery, and what I have learned through training for Reading Recovery.
I am forever thankful for the opportunity to learn to be a Reading Recovery teacher. I am thankful for the knowledge that I have gained. And I am thankful for Marie Clay, who looked like just a grandma, for making it all happen, for helping hundreds of teachers help millions of kids like Markeesha, learn to be someone in the world.
Rest in Peace, Marie Clay.
We will miss you.
Heard Yesterday
Deonte: (after being asked to share what he was thinking) Ugh, I don't know. My brain got unplugged and I don't know how to plug it back in!
Matthew: you know what? I hurt my finger once in the door and it hurt sooooo bad! I cried and cried and cried and then the flowers grew. I mean, all those tears!
Yeah, first graders aren't dramatic or anything!
Matthew: you know what? I hurt my finger once in the door and it hurt sooooo bad! I cried and cried and cried and then the flowers grew. I mean, all those tears!
Yeah, first graders aren't dramatic or anything!
Saturday, March 24, 2007
more coming...
ok so my readers have done a nice job of bugging me about posting.
This is the beginning of many posts, I hope.
Although I can't promise anything!
I gave up candy for lent, which is HUGE for me.
Easter has the best candy of all times of the year.
Isn't it funny how each holiday has it's own special candy?
Christmas: candy canes...chocolate...those spice drop things
Halloween: candy corn and snickers
Valentine's Day: conversation hearts
you get the idea.
But Easter... oh, Easter is full of Jelly Beans and peeps, and little jelly candies in the shape of a bunny. Then there are the chocolate things, bunnies, eggs, baskets.
wow.
the list goes on and on with the Easter Candy.
BT, in his sweetness, has for the last several days, brought candy home from work.
Sour Patch kids (awesome) and the best of all...Dr. Pepper Jelly Beans!
But of course, I can't eat them till Easter. grrr...
I had the most bizarre dream last night.
In my dream, I had stuffed the ENTIRE bag of Dr. Pepper Jelly beans in my mouth and had started to chew them when I realized I had given them up for lent, so I spit them all out.
I can still taste the faux Dr. Pepper sweetness in my mouth now.
But luckily, the bag is still safe, on my desk, unopened.
:)
How many more days till Easter?
Maybe that dream was a premonition of things to come?
This is the beginning of many posts, I hope.
Although I can't promise anything!
I gave up candy for lent, which is HUGE for me.
Easter has the best candy of all times of the year.
Isn't it funny how each holiday has it's own special candy?
Christmas: candy canes...chocolate...those spice drop things
Halloween: candy corn and snickers
Valentine's Day: conversation hearts
you get the idea.
But Easter... oh, Easter is full of Jelly Beans and peeps, and little jelly candies in the shape of a bunny. Then there are the chocolate things, bunnies, eggs, baskets.
wow.
the list goes on and on with the Easter Candy.
BT, in his sweetness, has for the last several days, brought candy home from work.
Sour Patch kids (awesome) and the best of all...Dr. Pepper Jelly Beans!
But of course, I can't eat them till Easter. grrr...
I had the most bizarre dream last night.
In my dream, I had stuffed the ENTIRE bag of Dr. Pepper Jelly beans in my mouth and had started to chew them when I realized I had given them up for lent, so I spit them all out.
I can still taste the faux Dr. Pepper sweetness in my mouth now.
But luckily, the bag is still safe, on my desk, unopened.
:)
How many more days till Easter?
Maybe that dream was a premonition of things to come?
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Weevils
The other day, the kitchen floor seemed unusually, uh dirty. I had just swept and mopped it the day before but it was really dirty. Well, that is normal for us. We like to cook and therefore, we like to make messes. Normal. But this was strange.
Really strange.
It didn't take long to realize the dirt was sort of uh , moving. Yeah, moving. In all directions.
MOVING.
I can remember a friend of mine talking about how in third grade, she sat behind a girl with very long hair. One day she told her teacher that the girl's hair was moving. The teacher wasn't understanding and totally blew her off till she saw... the hair WAS moving. Or at least the bugs in the hair were making it look like it was moving. GROSS...
so anyway, back to my floor.
I pull in BT because, who wants to look at something gross without others?
And BT says that we have fleas. FLEAS!!! Like an influx of fleas all over the house.
Needless to say, I FREAK out! I mean, imagine that! Fleas.
Where would they have come from? How in the world will we get rid of them?
I sweep, mop (again) and get the bug spray out and start to itch all over. Then I do what any person in 2007 would do... I google for pictures of fleas, scratch, and curse.
OY VAY.
But something isn't equalling out for me.
These don't quite look like fleas. Nope. These are bigger and well, less jumpy.
And then it hits me... look in the pantry.
Now, we have the most bizarre pantry in the world. It is a little closet with shelves all around. It is literally a walk in sort of thing... and sure enough, on the floor are the same bugs. HUNDREDS of these bugs. WEEVILS.
Ugh. of course! No matter how well you ziplock the flour, they will attack.
oh my.
So, after sweeping what seems like millions of dead weevil bodies and mopping the floor again, I realize something.
Inside the word Weevils is the word EVIL. And no doubt they are evil. Evil for making me mop, which I HATE to do. Evil for making me itchy, and evil for making me throw away a newly opened box of girl scout cookies. Ugh.
EVIL!!!
Really strange.
It didn't take long to realize the dirt was sort of uh , moving. Yeah, moving. In all directions.
MOVING.
I can remember a friend of mine talking about how in third grade, she sat behind a girl with very long hair. One day she told her teacher that the girl's hair was moving. The teacher wasn't understanding and totally blew her off till she saw... the hair WAS moving. Or at least the bugs in the hair were making it look like it was moving. GROSS...
so anyway, back to my floor.
I pull in BT because, who wants to look at something gross without others?
And BT says that we have fleas. FLEAS!!! Like an influx of fleas all over the house.
Needless to say, I FREAK out! I mean, imagine that! Fleas.
Where would they have come from? How in the world will we get rid of them?
I sweep, mop (again) and get the bug spray out and start to itch all over. Then I do what any person in 2007 would do... I google for pictures of fleas, scratch, and curse.
OY VAY.
But something isn't equalling out for me.
These don't quite look like fleas. Nope. These are bigger and well, less jumpy.
And then it hits me... look in the pantry.
Now, we have the most bizarre pantry in the world. It is a little closet with shelves all around. It is literally a walk in sort of thing... and sure enough, on the floor are the same bugs. HUNDREDS of these bugs. WEEVILS.
Ugh. of course! No matter how well you ziplock the flour, they will attack.
oh my.
So, after sweeping what seems like millions of dead weevil bodies and mopping the floor again, I realize something.
Inside the word Weevils is the word EVIL. And no doubt they are evil. Evil for making me mop, which I HATE to do. Evil for making me itchy, and evil for making me throw away a newly opened box of girl scout cookies. Ugh.
EVIL!!!
Hula BOOLA!!!
Here I was thinking I was the Hula Boola Saint... Turns out I am the POPE!!!
I need my hula boola hat!
You're a Hula Boola Pope.
Take THE HULA BOOLA TEST today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.
I spent some time reading old SRO posts today. If you haven't read them, you totally should.
They are brilliant!
:)
I need my hula boola hat!
You're a Hula Boola Pope.
Take THE HULA BOOLA TEST today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.
All Hail the Hula Boola Pope! Big hat, fancy outfit. Waving around burnt toast like Silly Smoke to clear the Temple. Let's not forget the Ring. You got it in the Pope Pops Cereal Box and everyday you get more clues. Wait, here comes one now... YOU WON! Go Pope You!
Hula Boola Quote : "Throw your hands in the air like you just don't care!"
Hula Boola Quote : "Throw your hands in the air like you just don't care!"
I spent some time reading old SRO posts today. If you haven't read them, you totally should.
They are brilliant!
:)
Monday, January 01, 2007
NEW YEARS RESOLUTION
Also known as... the post in which I list all the crap from 2006.
My new years resolution... drum roll please... is to totally not be electronically jinxed this year.
For sure.
Last January, it began. I help out at this church camp for teens... about three hours away from home. It is a weekend thing and is loads of fun, but not when you are electronically challenged.
My one job that weekend was to do the video... walk around recording things, download them to the laptop, and then create a fabulous video of the weekend to show to parents when they show up the last day of camp. No big deal. Just DO the video. OH but that was before the curse of technology.
As we pulled up to the camp and unloaded the things, I noticed something strange. The electronic alarm/door lock on my car wasn't working. It would give a very weak beep, if that, and mostly wouldn't work at all. (Bum Bum Bum)
Then I pulled out the camera and got to work. Oh the funny things that I saw through my little lens! What a masterpiece this would be! I had oscar dreams!
I recorded and recorded all the first day. Oh what a delight!
And then I noticed. I had forgotten the cord that went from the camera to the computer. I had no way of downloading my entire day of images. OH great! We searched and searched for the cord. I was sure I had set it aside to pack. No not there.
Ok, I said, "Maybe I can run down to the Wal-Mart and get a cord." Surely Wal-Mart, the only real store in Gilmer, Texas, would have a cord. Surely.
I prayed and prayed and prayed about it that night. I woke up early the next morning and drove my happy self to the Wal-Mart, camera in hand. I was ready. I should have known though, when the little toothless man in the blue vest with his name on it was the only one in charge of electronics that morning, that I was in trouble. "We don't got no cords in Gilmer, Texas" is what I heard.
OH great!
We finally got a cord brought town and I finally could piece together something. Nothing wonderful or even Oscar Worthy, but it was something. That was all I could ask for at that point. Score one for the technology...sweet electronics. You won your first match!
Oh, then around March, my beloved laptop Hobbes just sort of died. I had seen it coming. The mixed up screen, the problems when I would turn it on. I tried to make it limp along and pretend nothing was wrong but then the day came. The laptop totally flipped out. Needed a new logic board, they said. Would take 12 days, they said.
I am beginning to sense a pattern, I said.
My laptop hadn't gotten home and comfortable when the ipod started doing strange things. It would skip, then it would not even go to certain songs. "Oh, I see," I would think, "you don't want to play that song today. I guess I play it too much anyway. OK. We can listen to a different one." But then the terrible triangle and the exclamation point. Oh the triangle, symbol of woah and angst!
That was it. The pod was toast. Blah.
Scoreboard: Susie 0, Technology 3..
August rolled around and the church camp happened again. Time for another chance to redeem myself with the video thing. This was the year of Oscar Worthy Greatness!
I had used the camera, it was working fine. I had all cords needed, plus some...oh I had learned my lesson. Things were great. As soon as we got things unpacked and ready, I was ready to record, and that is when I noticed the camera was dead. Not a "let's just charge the battery" kind of dead but a real, honest to goodness, no matter what you try it still won't work, dead.
But aha! I had called for backup and asked someone else to bring their camera! I was no dummy!
So I used that camera all weekend. I directed, I moved, I knew it would be fantastic!
Once again, using the cords, I realized with the new borrowed camera, I still didn't have the right one. I was doomed! There was no way of downloading video onto the computer to edit. No way. Darn you technology! You suck!
I took the tapes home, hoping that I would be able to do something with them at home. Surely I could make a good situation out of this! Surely I could fix it.
I borrowed a camera from someone and eagerly tried to download video. Much to my surprise, there was NOTHING on the tapes!
Nothing. Ugh. It never ends.
I still, to this day, haven't been able to see the video from that camp. I try every once in a while, and then I quickly concede to the technology gods and hope for a better/easier time next time.
Today is the first day of 2007. I have decided that I NEED to be unjinxed by technology. I deserve it.
Or so I thought, until this morning I was working on my laptop and realized that the return key wouldn't work. Neither would the shift key!
NO!!!!!! I will not go down lightly! I have a chance to make it better!!! I MUST make it better!
OH yes. I fixed the keyboard!
I have defeated technology and its grip on my soul.
I VOW to if not beat technology, then to go down trying....
I will let you know how it goes...
My new years resolution... drum roll please... is to totally not be electronically jinxed this year.
For sure.
Last January, it began. I help out at this church camp for teens... about three hours away from home. It is a weekend thing and is loads of fun, but not when you are electronically challenged.
My one job that weekend was to do the video... walk around recording things, download them to the laptop, and then create a fabulous video of the weekend to show to parents when they show up the last day of camp. No big deal. Just DO the video. OH but that was before the curse of technology.
As we pulled up to the camp and unloaded the things, I noticed something strange. The electronic alarm/door lock on my car wasn't working. It would give a very weak beep, if that, and mostly wouldn't work at all. (Bum Bum Bum)
Then I pulled out the camera and got to work. Oh the funny things that I saw through my little lens! What a masterpiece this would be! I had oscar dreams!
I recorded and recorded all the first day. Oh what a delight!
And then I noticed. I had forgotten the cord that went from the camera to the computer. I had no way of downloading my entire day of images. OH great! We searched and searched for the cord. I was sure I had set it aside to pack. No not there.
Ok, I said, "Maybe I can run down to the Wal-Mart and get a cord." Surely Wal-Mart, the only real store in Gilmer, Texas, would have a cord. Surely.
I prayed and prayed and prayed about it that night. I woke up early the next morning and drove my happy self to the Wal-Mart, camera in hand. I was ready. I should have known though, when the little toothless man in the blue vest with his name on it was the only one in charge of electronics that morning, that I was in trouble. "We don't got no cords in Gilmer, Texas" is what I heard.
OH great!
We finally got a cord brought town and I finally could piece together something. Nothing wonderful or even Oscar Worthy, but it was something. That was all I could ask for at that point. Score one for the technology...sweet electronics. You won your first match!
Oh, then around March, my beloved laptop Hobbes just sort of died. I had seen it coming. The mixed up screen, the problems when I would turn it on. I tried to make it limp along and pretend nothing was wrong but then the day came. The laptop totally flipped out. Needed a new logic board, they said. Would take 12 days, they said.
I am beginning to sense a pattern, I said.
My laptop hadn't gotten home and comfortable when the ipod started doing strange things. It would skip, then it would not even go to certain songs. "Oh, I see," I would think, "you don't want to play that song today. I guess I play it too much anyway. OK. We can listen to a different one." But then the terrible triangle and the exclamation point. Oh the triangle, symbol of woah and angst!
That was it. The pod was toast. Blah.
Scoreboard: Susie 0, Technology 3..
August rolled around and the church camp happened again. Time for another chance to redeem myself with the video thing. This was the year of Oscar Worthy Greatness!
I had used the camera, it was working fine. I had all cords needed, plus some...oh I had learned my lesson. Things were great. As soon as we got things unpacked and ready, I was ready to record, and that is when I noticed the camera was dead. Not a "let's just charge the battery" kind of dead but a real, honest to goodness, no matter what you try it still won't work, dead.
But aha! I had called for backup and asked someone else to bring their camera! I was no dummy!
So I used that camera all weekend. I directed, I moved, I knew it would be fantastic!
Once again, using the cords, I realized with the new borrowed camera, I still didn't have the right one. I was doomed! There was no way of downloading video onto the computer to edit. No way. Darn you technology! You suck!
I took the tapes home, hoping that I would be able to do something with them at home. Surely I could make a good situation out of this! Surely I could fix it.
I borrowed a camera from someone and eagerly tried to download video. Much to my surprise, there was NOTHING on the tapes!
Nothing. Ugh. It never ends.
I still, to this day, haven't been able to see the video from that camp. I try every once in a while, and then I quickly concede to the technology gods and hope for a better/easier time next time.
Today is the first day of 2007. I have decided that I NEED to be unjinxed by technology. I deserve it.
Or so I thought, until this morning I was working on my laptop and realized that the return key wouldn't work. Neither would the shift key!
NO!!!!!! I will not go down lightly! I have a chance to make it better!!! I MUST make it better!
OH yes. I fixed the keyboard!
I have defeated technology and its grip on my soul.
I VOW to if not beat technology, then to go down trying....
I will let you know how it goes...
Saturday, December 30, 2006
heaters
For some reason, at dinner last night, we got on the subject of heaters in bathrooms. Our bathrooms in our house don't have heaters, although the guest bath has a ceiling fan, which I think is quite odd but oh so Texas at the same time.
There I was trying to mentally make a connection to heaters when it hit me...this memory that had been suppressed for so long, I didn't even know I had the brain power to hold it in long term memory that long.
I can remember my grandmother's bathroom. It was a HUGE bathroom and I loved it. There were lots of things about that house I loved, but the bathroom was one of them.
She had drawers and cabinets filled with all kinds of fun things for an exploring kid. You never knew what you would find in there. Bobbypins? Got um. Three boxes of hair dye? yep.
Any kind of band-aid you can think of... sure.
All there.
I learned my best bathroom snooping techniques from that bathroom.
But my fave memory was when I would announce, like a princess that I thought I would need to take a bath. I didn't really do this on purpose, I guess I just did it naturally which thinking back on it, totally cracks me up. Do I do it now and not realize it? Probably!
So I would announce that I was planning on taking a bath and then my ADD would kick in and I would get busy doing something else. 20 minutes later, I would finally remember my desire to bathe. I would gather my things and walk in to the ginormous bathroom, and a burst of heat would surround me. My grandmother had, every time, heard my announcement, payed attention to it, and had gone to make my bath experience just a little bit better by turning on the heater. I loved that heater. Not only that, but she would always put the towel right in front of the heater to get it really warm and cozy for me. It was fantastic on cold winter nights. I would lay on the floor and put my little toes right up to the front of the heater and get nice and warm, wrapped in that soft warm blanket.
Funny how we take for granted things people do for us. Funny how that seemed like such a natural thing to me back then. Well of course when I go to grandma's house and take a bath in the winter, the heater will be on. Of course.
Funny how it took a dinner and a crazy discussion of bathroom heaters to realize just how much my grandmother loved me.
funny...
There I was trying to mentally make a connection to heaters when it hit me...this memory that had been suppressed for so long, I didn't even know I had the brain power to hold it in long term memory that long.
I can remember my grandmother's bathroom. It was a HUGE bathroom and I loved it. There were lots of things about that house I loved, but the bathroom was one of them.
She had drawers and cabinets filled with all kinds of fun things for an exploring kid. You never knew what you would find in there. Bobbypins? Got um. Three boxes of hair dye? yep.
Any kind of band-aid you can think of... sure.
All there.
I learned my best bathroom snooping techniques from that bathroom.
But my fave memory was when I would announce, like a princess that I thought I would need to take a bath. I didn't really do this on purpose, I guess I just did it naturally which thinking back on it, totally cracks me up. Do I do it now and not realize it? Probably!
So I would announce that I was planning on taking a bath and then my ADD would kick in and I would get busy doing something else. 20 minutes later, I would finally remember my desire to bathe. I would gather my things and walk in to the ginormous bathroom, and a burst of heat would surround me. My grandmother had, every time, heard my announcement, payed attention to it, and had gone to make my bath experience just a little bit better by turning on the heater. I loved that heater. Not only that, but she would always put the towel right in front of the heater to get it really warm and cozy for me. It was fantastic on cold winter nights. I would lay on the floor and put my little toes right up to the front of the heater and get nice and warm, wrapped in that soft warm blanket.
Funny how we take for granted things people do for us. Funny how that seemed like such a natural thing to me back then. Well of course when I go to grandma's house and take a bath in the winter, the heater will be on. Of course.
Funny how it took a dinner and a crazy discussion of bathroom heaters to realize just how much my grandmother loved me.
funny...
Monday, December 18, 2006
Santa and Aliens
The Drunkenhousewife has had a contest going on her blog. She wants to know why and how people are weird. Hugh won although I think my fear of cotton balls should trump his weirdness, but I am not in charge of the contest am I?
I thought of a story that I told BT last night that goes along with Christmas but shows my weirdness all at the same time....I will have to say that this was not my favorite Christmas ever, but it sure was memorable.
I don't know how old I was when we drove to Disneyworld. I must have been still in Elementary School. We left in a Midas, some sort of RV from the 70s that had a bed and a kitchen and stuff like that. It was rockin' in those days. We left El Paso and went East. I honestly don't remember much of the drive, only that it was forever long and that I slept a lot. We started having car trouble in Mississippi. Don't ever have car trouble in Mississippi! Ugh.
We had to stop for hours, days, what felt like WEEKS to get the car fixed. I remember buying groceries at the store and having to go to a hotel for the night while the Midas got fixed. We were not happy.
(Just as a total side note, I had just gotten the book on how to beat the rubic's cube and I was working on that so hard. I finally got it solved and some mechanic guy was so amazed that I was able to put it together that he asked to borrow it to show the rest of the mechanics. I never got my rubic's cube back. Someday I will go to Mississippi and get my rubic's cube back! Some day!)
After that whole messy rubic's cube thing, I was certainly in a mood wasn't in the Christmas spirit and I started asking my parents questions. One of them was, "Kim's cousin tells me that Santa isn't real. Is that true?"
Silence from my parents.
Then they told of their lies, their deceit. THEY were the ones who put together the swing set in the living room. Not Santa. They were the ones who had provided me with the toys, not Santa. My heart was broken. I wanted to know no more. I didn't want to hear about it. It was mind boggling.
But then, I started thinking. What if these people aren't my parents? What if they are aliens that have taken over my parents bodies? They have come down to earth to SAY those things about Santa so they could harm him! Yep. These were just shells of my parents. My parent's souls were in a space ship somewhere, waiting for me to save their bodies! Surely these could not be my parents. I was convinced. I had to ask questions. Lots and lots of questions to know if they were truly aliens and if so, where were my real parents.
I swear I asked them millions of questions. I couldn't help it.
I wanted to know. I NEEDED to know. My parents lives were in danger! So I asked and asked and asked questions only my parents would know. They answered them all correctly, but it didn't surprise me. Aliens steal your brains too.
I watched them very closely all during that vacation, continuing to test and see if they really were aliens.
Somehow they never seemed to think it was strange, weird even, that I thought they were aliens. They never seemed to tire of the questions and were willing to answer any and all I threw out.
I guess they were used to having a weird daughter back then. I guess they were used to me and my ways.
And I guess I will never know if they are still being controlled by aliens. But I will say, I am still watching them... and secretly, I believe in Santa, no matter what they say!
I thought of a story that I told BT last night that goes along with Christmas but shows my weirdness all at the same time....I will have to say that this was not my favorite Christmas ever, but it sure was memorable.
I don't know how old I was when we drove to Disneyworld. I must have been still in Elementary School. We left in a Midas, some sort of RV from the 70s that had a bed and a kitchen and stuff like that. It was rockin' in those days. We left El Paso and went East. I honestly don't remember much of the drive, only that it was forever long and that I slept a lot. We started having car trouble in Mississippi. Don't ever have car trouble in Mississippi! Ugh.
We had to stop for hours, days, what felt like WEEKS to get the car fixed. I remember buying groceries at the store and having to go to a hotel for the night while the Midas got fixed. We were not happy.
(Just as a total side note, I had just gotten the book on how to beat the rubic's cube and I was working on that so hard. I finally got it solved and some mechanic guy was so amazed that I was able to put it together that he asked to borrow it to show the rest of the mechanics. I never got my rubic's cube back. Someday I will go to Mississippi and get my rubic's cube back! Some day!)
After that whole messy rubic's cube thing, I was certainly in a mood wasn't in the Christmas spirit and I started asking my parents questions. One of them was, "Kim's cousin tells me that Santa isn't real. Is that true?"
Silence from my parents.
Then they told of their lies, their deceit. THEY were the ones who put together the swing set in the living room. Not Santa. They were the ones who had provided me with the toys, not Santa. My heart was broken. I wanted to know no more. I didn't want to hear about it. It was mind boggling.
But then, I started thinking. What if these people aren't my parents? What if they are aliens that have taken over my parents bodies? They have come down to earth to SAY those things about Santa so they could harm him! Yep. These were just shells of my parents. My parent's souls were in a space ship somewhere, waiting for me to save their bodies! Surely these could not be my parents. I was convinced. I had to ask questions. Lots and lots of questions to know if they were truly aliens and if so, where were my real parents.
I swear I asked them millions of questions. I couldn't help it.
I wanted to know. I NEEDED to know. My parents lives were in danger! So I asked and asked and asked questions only my parents would know. They answered them all correctly, but it didn't surprise me. Aliens steal your brains too.
I watched them very closely all during that vacation, continuing to test and see if they really were aliens.
Somehow they never seemed to think it was strange, weird even, that I thought they were aliens. They never seemed to tire of the questions and were willing to answer any and all I threw out.
I guess they were used to having a weird daughter back then. I guess they were used to me and my ways.
And I guess I will never know if they are still being controlled by aliens. But I will say, I am still watching them... and secretly, I believe in Santa, no matter what they say!
Friday, December 08, 2006
Theology
First Grade style...
Teacher: (to Julian) tell Mrs. Susiederk your prayer please...
Me: Whaaa? Is that allowed in a public school?
Teacher: Trust me on this one... it is worth it.
Julian: ok I will say my prayer.... Our farter, who art in heaven...
(Try to keep a straight face with that!)
Child overheard while working: Gangsters love God too.
During a writing lesson:
Me: Raymond, Do you have a Christmas tree up at your house?
Raymond: Yep. It is in the living room.
Me: Wow. Did you decorate it already?
Raymond: Yeah. We put lights on it and balls and silver stuff and candy canes and cheeses.
(silence)
Me: Cheeses????
Raymond: Yeah, Cheeses!
Me: uh, what kind of cheeses?
Raymond: Baby Cheeses! The kind that was born on Christmas. (I could almost hear a "duh" in his tone of voice)
Of course! Baby Cheeses and Our Farter they love the gangsters too.
Teacher: (to Julian) tell Mrs. Susiederk your prayer please...
Me: Whaaa? Is that allowed in a public school?
Teacher: Trust me on this one... it is worth it.
Julian: ok I will say my prayer.... Our farter, who art in heaven...
(Try to keep a straight face with that!)
Child overheard while working: Gangsters love God too.
During a writing lesson:
Me: Raymond, Do you have a Christmas tree up at your house?
Raymond: Yep. It is in the living room.
Me: Wow. Did you decorate it already?
Raymond: Yeah. We put lights on it and balls and silver stuff and candy canes and cheeses.
(silence)
Me: Cheeses????
Raymond: Yeah, Cheeses!
Me: uh, what kind of cheeses?
Raymond: Baby Cheeses! The kind that was born on Christmas. (I could almost hear a "duh" in his tone of voice)
Of course! Baby Cheeses and Our Farter they love the gangsters too.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
You don't get it...
I have said for a long time, "You don't get it, till you or someone you love GETS it."
My grandmother died of emphysema, from smoking. I GET how someone can die from smoking. I GET it.
Our friends right now are dealing with a suicidal child. I can't even imagine what they must be going through on a daily basis. The terror, the worry, the constant feeling on edge. I don't GET what it is like to live day to day with someone like that. I can listen, I can talk, but I don't really GET it. Luckily for them, they have friends who have gone through this sort of thing and understand. They relate. They GET it...All of it. The highs and lows of it. The worry and the stress. They have felt it. They know the impact. They see it in action. They know.
BT is the researcher in the family. Mention something he doesn't know a lot about and he will spend the next several weeks researching and learning all about that thing. He wants to GET it.
My Best Friend Forever Infinity has AIDS. He has for a long time. I am just now beginning to GET it.
December 1 was World AIDS day. December is AIDS awareness month. Please, take the time this month to be researchers, to learn and not judge, to GET it, before someone you love does.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)