It's a Hard Knox Life (mispelling intended)

Last week I went to visit my best friend and her husband this weekend. It was so refreshing to just chill. Know what I mean? What's better than hanging out with the kind of friend where you can completely be yourself? Whether it's just sitting in the same room watching episodes of Friends or shopping or cooking, you feel completely at home because they know you, faults and all, and still love you! As I write this, I'm blown away with the thought that, if she loves me no matter what, imagine how much more God does!

Their Boykin Spaniel, Tucker.

They're training him to hunt!

Tucker as a puppy

Self Portrait

I knew I never should have started blogging.

Day at the Barn

My aunt hired me to take pictures of her Pasos.

Here are some pics from that day:

This is a new foal. Mom and baby don't belong to my aunt.

Bronse (Brahn-say), one of my aunt's breeding stallions.

What's a barn without some chickens? (Should be a picture of me here. Turns out that I'm very nervous around horses after my accident several years ago. I should have gotten right back on. Hindsight is 20/20.)

Desperate

So that Katie doesn't think she's the only one with crazy pets:

The vet has put Jay on a limited diet. His intake has been cut in half. (Turns out I was giving him the right food, just too much of it.) I can't imagine why he has to lose weight! (Too bad someone can't put me on a limited diet and force me to stick to it.)

He's desperate for food. Desperate to the point of banging on my door, meowing loudly outside of it until I would open it (at this point he'd already been kicked out for being a pest), and then practically smothering me while purring and attempting to look cute. It finally worked. I gave him his morning portion. But I warned him: he better not eat all of it in one sitting. It's a long time until dinner!

This is Jay, in the cupboard where I keep the food. (Notice the label on the food?)

Jay: "Woman, if you don't give me food now, I'm going to poop outside of the litterbox."

Still breathing...for now

Several circumstances happened today that have left me somewhat breathless.

1. I had lunch with my mom. After these pics, it's a good thing I'm still alive, much less breathing.
2. I cut the grass. With the crappy mower.
3. I forked over $202.00 to the vet for annual shots for Jay and Buck. (Too bad winning the blog-off didn't come with a cash prize. I totally could have used it.)

So, thought you people would want to know that I'm still breathing. For now.

Cattiness

Ahem...is this thing on? Testing, testing. 1, 2, 3. OK, think we're up and running now. Let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Jay, or at least I think it is, and I am approximately two-and-a-half hands high. I'm a seventeen pound tabby with green eyes (my best feature, if I do say so myself). My mom is usually addicted to this thing, and spends more time on it than she does with me. (She actually thinks that petting me with her feet while she blogs will suffice. Whatever.)

I have a pretty normal life. Most of my days consist of me doing this and wondering things like:

• When is she going to feed me again?
• Why does she think I like it when she cradles me on my back and plants kisses all over my head? Yuck!
• What is my name, anyway? Jay? Mister? Misterhead? Bubby? Lovey? Come on, Woman! Make up your mind!
• When is she going to learn that the only thing I care about is eating, pooping, and chasing around imaginary things at midnight?
• String! STRING!!!

Then suddenly, there was a significant change in my life. And let me tell you. I wasn't very pleased.

I went to visit my grandparents, like I always do, and in walks my aunt and uncle with another pet carrier. (I know what these things are. They strike fear into the heart of every cat. They can only mean two things. 1: Long road trip or 2: The "V" word) My aunt and uncle and mom were acting all excited, like I was going to just loooooove what was in this carrier. Could they have been more wrong?

Out pounces Maximus Bartelski. Seriously. What kind of name is that? Sounds like he has little man's syndrome or something. Anyway, that guy is so full of energy that I just want to strangle his neck. He's all like, "Wanna play? Wanna? Huh? Huh? Come on, let's wrestle! Betcha can't catch me!"

No, I did not want to play. And NO, I did not want to wrestle. And, YES, I bet I could catch him! All I wanted was to sleep. Alas, it just wasn't to be. He kept pestering me and pestering me.

That kid never stopped!

I was beginning to feel paranoid because I kept feeling like someone was watching me.

Finally, I had to show him a thing or two.

When the day was through, he wasn't so bad after all. I mean, he is my cousin. I wouldn't mind seeing him again. I guess you just have to handle him with kid paws.

Over and out.

Oh, those wonderful family Easter pics

Gotta love those wonderful Easter pics. Fortunately, since I'm the blogmaster, I can leave out the pics of me. But, since my family doesn't read my blog (or at least never leaves comments), I can put up the silly ones of them. Enjoy!





(I swear, there's nothing wrong with them. No, we aren't related to anyone from Deliverance.)

Happy Easter!

This one's for my faithful fans who LOVE my nature pics. Ha! ;)

May the power of the risen Christ's love overflow you today.

Thought I'd include the lyrics to a hymn that brought tears to my eyes this morning:

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand

2002, Townend and Getty

Schroeder's

Tonight a friend from church played at a local dive, Schroeder's. It was a nice relaxing night, and sure beat the heck out of laying around on the sofas and watching Blockbuster movies. Thought I'd include some pics...

This is Adam posing. It was too funny; I had to post it.

This is more like it. Adam has a great voice!

Three of our Wednesday night girls. Me, Amy (Adam's wife), and Tanya.

My sis and her hubby.

That's what friends are for

Mandy owes me. Big time. Due to the sensitive nature of this material, I must not disclose any more at the time. However, Becky knows. So you can ask her. Oh yeah...and thanks, Patrick, for the well wishes. It wasn't too bad!

(Honestly...no paybacks required. That's what friends are for.)

Sanctuary

I Declare "Sanctuary"

In ancient history, a criminal could flee to a church when being pursued and declare "sanctuary" -- that is, safety from his captors. It has even been depicted or alluded to in recent movies such as The Patriot and The Count of Monte Cristo.

I, too, need to declare sanctuary. I need to run into the arms of Jesus and declare it. I need Him to rescue me and fight for me and keep me safe. I know He will.

Matthew West's song Only Grace reminds me of the sanctuary I'll find in the arms of Jesus:

There is no guilt here
There is no shame
No pointing fingers
There is no blame
What happened yesterday has disappeared
The dirt has washed away
And now it's clear

There's only grace
There's only love
There's only mercy and believe me it's enough
Your sins are gone
Without a trace
There's nothing left now
There's only grace

You're starting over now
Under the Son
You're stepping forward now
A new life has begun
Your new life has begun

There's only grace
There's only love
There's only mercy and believe me it's enough
Your sins are gone
Without a trace
There's nothing left now
There's only grace

And if you should fall again
Get back up, get back up
Reach out and take my hand
Get back up, get back up

There's only grace
There's only love
There's only mercy and believe me it's enough
Your sins are gone
Without a trace
There's nothing left now
There's only grace

--Matthew West

Holy NO Cannoli!

Ever had that craving for a favorite food? Then had it smashed into a thousand pieces because you couldn't have it?

That happened to me tonight.

My favorite dessert in the WHOLE world (literally) is cannoli. The last time I had it was in Sorento, Italy over two years ago. That's a long time. Too long.

Over the past three days I've passed a dessert case in two different restaurants that had fresh cannoli. This is a rarity in and among itself. Our town doesn't have an overwhelming population of cannolis (even if we are named after an Italian city). I knew I was going back to the restaurant tonight to celebrate a friend's birthday. This was it: our night. Mine and the cannoli's.

I spotted the chocolate dipped cannoli in the case even as we were waiting. I brought my camera for a perfect blogable moment. We sat down and began ordering, and I mentioned to the waitress that I would be ordering that great cannoli in the case after my meal came. She said, "Oh, is there a cannoli left?"

"Yes, it's right ---" WHAT!? WHERE WAS MY CANNOLI? WHO TOOK MY CANNOLI? I wanted to go on a rampage through the entire restaurant and yank that poor little cannoli out from under some fool's nose who ordered it without even knowing what it was. Someone who didn't even appreciate it and recognize its worth.

I never did find the little lost cannoli. Mandy suggested going to the other restaurant to pick one up, but it just wasn't the same. My dinner had been ruined. (Not really, but it sure sounds dramatic.)

So, this was what my plate looked like. All alone. No cannoli.

And this is what I had to have instead...

Yeah, right. "Real" Italian Ice. Whatever.

Ornithology

CharChar, this post is for you!

I know I'm further contributing to what my students would describe as "dorkiness"; however, I couldn't resist.

Ornithology is a cool word that has stuck with me ever since reading Freak the Mighty by Rodman Philbrick.

I had a very dear student build me a fantastic birdhouse four years ago. A fellow teacher helped me put it right outside my classroom window. Much to my surprise, the following spring, a male and female Eastern Bluebird couple took up residence in it. I was shocked! People try for years to get them to nest in their birdhouses with no luck. I put a home-made birdhouse three feet outside my classroom window and they show up! Three years, three males, and thirty babies later, Natalie, my female, returns. Not sure what male she brought with her this time. I just thought I'd give her some blog time. Be fruitful and multiply, Natalie. You're helping to add to the diminishing E. B. population!

Here are some pics of the bird feeders on our patio. The top one is a Tufted Titmouse looking on while a Carolina Chickadee flies away. The bottom is a female Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. I completely blame CharChar for my love of birds.

Hypothetical Question II

Why am I so fascinated by these?

OK, so you've heard all day about impending thunderstorms and possible tornadoes. It's midnight, and nature has taken on that eerie silence -- not a cricket chirping or frog croaking. You're already a little weirded out because you're alone.

You turn the channel to a local news station, and the meteorologist is borderline freaking out. "There are tornado warnings all over! This storm is headed straight for you. Take shelter soon!"

Deciding to take the animals and flee to the safe haven of your parents' home, you begin rounding up items.

WHAT DO YOU TAKE WITH YOU? (Disclaimer: Be careful how you answer this question. It could say a LOT about you.)

I guess I know where my loyalties lie. The treasure of my heart. You get the point.

What did I take? My cat, my roommate's dog, my iPod nano and my laptop. Oh yeah, and a change of underwear and some socks. That's it. I'm pretty lame, huh?

The single life

Recently, there has been some discussion about the single life. So, in efforts to quell all beliefs that it is so wonderful, I thought I would give a play-by-play of my Friday evening.

3:30 pm -- Chased down the middle school tennis team to take pictures.

4:30 pm -- Helped another teacher search for a note that a student confiscated. No luck.

5:00 pm -- Arrived home. Talked to parents over the phone.

5:11 pm -- Mom called back and wanted to know if I wanted to eat with them and their friends at Troy's Barbecue. Not a fan of barbecue. Turned them down.

5:13 pm -- Mom called back to say they weren't either and decided not to go. Wanted to know if I wanted them to call me back if they went somewhere later.

5:16 pm -- Took a blanket and went downstairs. Opened the screen door, turned on the fan, and fell asleep on the sofa.

7:45 pm -- Parents called again. Asked if I was hungry. Decided to go to a new restaurant in town, Bella Roma.

9:15 pm -- Left restaurant. Went to CVS.

9:45 pm -- Arrived home. Dad helped install porch light since I couldn't reach it.

10:15 pm -- Began watching Season 10 of Friends. Just hangin' out with Jay and Emma.

12:30 am -- Still watching Friends. Nothing is happening with the weather. Flip to a TV channel. See breaking news that there are tornado warnings north of here. Meteorologist says that we're about to get hit bad.

12:35 am -- Call Dad to let him know of weather coming our way. Asks if I want to bring the animals and come over there. Know I'd feel safer doing that.

12:53 am -- Arrive at parents' house. Unload cat and dog.

1:47 am -- Wonder why I packed up. No storm yet.

3:00 am -- Hear some small hail, but storm is way off. Feel stupid.

8:11 am -- Wake up. Emma is restless. Leave Jay at my parents' and head home with Emma.

1:03 pm -- Worn out and still asleep. Finally wake up.

Oh, the single life. Sounds great, huh? I guess I can't complain. I have been able to just lay on the couch and watch six episodes of Friends in a row.

Dear Students,

Dear Students,

I can't relate to you, and I'm not sure I ever will be able to. Today when I was teaching you how to write a memoir, my world was rocked. It may be a trite expression that teachers not only teach, but learn. Yet, the weight of its truth didn't sink in until today.

You were so good. You took your five minutes and answered "Questions for a Memoirist" silently. I didn't realize what was happening until I was already in the thick of it. I saw some of the looks on your faces as you answered questions like "What is an incident that describes what your family is like?" or "What is something you have seen that you can never forget?" or "What is something that has changed your life?" That's when it socked me right in the face.

I had planned this great lesson where I would then describe how I answered each question, hoping that would spur your mind into remembering things you were forgetting. But I was defeated before I started.

See, I answered the questions with "meals around the dinner table, Dad telling bedtime stories, family vacations" and "Leaning Tower of Pisa, Tower of London, Mt. Vesuvius" and "a personal relationship with Jesus Christ."

Your answers were, "Mom and Dad fighting, divorce, kicking out my brother" and "My Dad drunk again" and "Watching my grandparents smoke weed and gamble."

We live in two different worlds. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. Life is not one big warm fuzzy. It can't be sunshine and mountaintops all the time. Life hurts. Life stinks. Life is painful. We experience those times for growth. You don't get to choose your family; you can't even control it. But you can control your education. Just because your family is one way doesn't mean that you have to be that way also. It's your decision. You'll make mistakes. Everyone does. It's like in Batman Begins when Bruce Wayne's father says, "Do you know why we fall down? So we can learn to pick ourselves back up again." You'll fall. But get up. Don't stay there.

This assignment is going to be painful for you. But I believe it will make you stronger. We all have our own hurts and fears and heartbreaks. But they're all different. They're what has helped make us into the people we are today. And that's a good thing.

No, I may not have had the same childhood as you did. But I've loved many who have. And no matter where you've come from or where you go, I'll love you just the same.

Nevermind...THEY are so deprived!

Previously, I wrote that we, Gen X-ers, are so deprived.

I've changed my mind.

Today in class I was describing root words for our vocabulary word "habitable." They came up with habitat. From there, I described what a nun's habit was. Man, did that open a can of worms.

"What's a nun?"
"Do nuns and priests get married?"
"What's celibacy?"
"What do you mean she never gets married? Who would want to do that?"
"What if a lady had a baby and then decided to be a nun?"
"Is that what you call what *she* wears?" (Pointing to a girl in the class.)

[Insert shocked teacher look here.]

"A nun is a Catholic woman who is called by God to devote her life to him...no, nuns and priests don't get married, they both commit to a life of celibacy...celibacy means that you don't get married...they agree to that because they feel called -- just like I feel called to be a teacher...I'm not sure about the lady who has a baby and decides to be a nun but I can find it out...and NO, that's not what you call what *she* wears. *She* is Muslim, completely different, and wears a head scarf. (At this point, *she* is cracking up laughing.)

I throw up my hands and ask in an exasperated voice, "Haven' t you seen The Sound of Music?"


Three people raise their hands.

"You've got to be kidding me! Maria and the Captain? Do, a deer? Geez, people!" They looked at me with blank stares.

So, I just HAD to tell them the story.

I had it all wrong. They are the deprived ones.

Sloganizing

Mandy inspired me to sloganize...

Here are my favorites, but I'm also requesting your thoughts. Cast your votes before it's too late!

Shannon, a female force.
Nonstop Shannon!
The power of Shannon.
The Shannon effect
Shannon for your kids!
Shannon -- spice up your life.
It's not a dream. Shannon is real!

"Hypothetical" Question

OK, let's just say that you have some very high weeds near the front of your yard. You are so fortunate, you have two lawnmowers! How do you decide?

In this corner, weighing in at eighty-two pounds, the SNAPPER! No, it doesn't have a pump to pump in the gas to help get it started. And no, it doesn't have a bag to collect all the leaf and grass bits. And no, it has never even heard of the word self-propelled. But it has worked before. Before 1972.

In this corner, weighing in at seventy-eight pounds, there's the it's-so-old-the-brand-name-is-no-longer-distinguishable mower. It does have a bag, but the blade is so bent and crooked it just chews the grass. You might get a hernia from trying to start it, yet it has been the most trustworthy in the past.

Wait? Neither sound appealing? (Shocker!)

Don't worry. You don't have to decide. Neither work. That's right. Though I now have abs of steel from trying to start both, it's safe to say that they've finally bit the dust. (Literally. Did you see the dust on them? Maybe they choked to death.)

Who cares about name brands when you have two lawnmowers, both of which are worthless? I'm calling my landlord tomorrow. I'm going to ask him to buy me one of these:

I couldn't resist...

I know this is so boring, but I just couldn't resist putting these nature shots on here. Can you tell I can only take pictures of things that don't move?

Flight of the Bumblebees

So today I saw some huge bees flying around our patio. It reminded me of a woman whom I used to know. She wore a different bee pendant on her shoulder every day. Nothing gaudy; always tasteful. Once I asked the reason. Her response was, "Aerodynamically, bumblebees can't fly. Their bodies are too big for their wings. They fly because they think they can."

There is much debate about whether or not this is folklore; however, the message will forever remain etched in my memories.

Random thoughts

Random thoughts:

Why do I eat salsa and hot buffalo wings? They make my mouth burn and my upper lip sweat (even if I do claim to have an “asbestos mouth”).

Speaking of sweat… Why did my dad have to make fun of that poor cheerleader twenty-eight years ago who sweated all the time? If he’d only known his payback would be a daughter who sweated just as much.

Why do I continue to sit in front of my computer way past midnight staring at my blog? I know it’s time for bed.

Why do I keep walking past my messy room thinking that it will go away if I ignore it? Uggh.

Why do I have to have a “project” each year among my students?

Why do I actually like the taste of cottage cheese?

Why do I enjoy war movies?

Why do I watch girly movies? I know I’m going to cry.

Why do I dream every night in color? Why are my dreams like a sci-fi movie?

Why are students held so much to standardized testing? Do they think that can measure how much a student has grown to love to read?

Why are teachers and administrators held so much to standardized testing? Don't they realize that so many times it is the students' attitudes that determine results?

Why aren't parents held to standardized testing? Get your kid in school! Check for their homework! CARE about their success! (Can you tell we're about to take the CRCT? My students will be fine. It's just the whole theory that makes me mad about this time every year.)

Why am I more of a Martha than a Mary? Why do I care too much about what others think?