Ups and Downs

Last  week -
A jazzy tune

Uplifted, refreshed, happy, joyful. Cathy was here.  Time was short, but full. 
Anthropologie in Fresno. 
Whole Foods shopping. 
Late night drive in Kings County, in search of a country house.
Missy loving our friend.
Cathy learning how to get to Stratford.
A drive to Santa Cruz
Phil's Fish Market
Santa Cruz is more than the Boardwalk
Sea Cliff Drive
Rio Theatre
Brandi (thanks for bringing us to SC)
I scored a cool lunch box
Crepe House
My first time scaring a stranger
Little fear + much fear = balance
Another successful visit
The thrill in knowing we'll see each other again in a month
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
This week -
a melancholy ballad

Desiree
a baby losing her mother
a husband, painfully saying goodby to his love
parents, broken
friends, wondering why
me, cheated again
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cathy visited Briana last week.  My message to Briana was that I am continuing to build my relationship with her.  Even though I can't look into her eyes, I know her, and our friendship continues.  I am still learning and growing with Briana, but on a different plane. She is my new friend. 

I knew she was special.  I knew she was gifted beyond her years and beyond this earthly existence.  Briana was more.  And, it made sense that Cathy would be the person to bond with her.  Cathy is more, too.

Briana was the earth.  She radiated groundedness. Forest faeries dance around her, with love. 
She is the  protector.


Desiree was another young woman, who I learned this weekend, was also "more".  Her friends and family spoke of her with such honor.  Such deep admiration.  Everyone recognized her presence and her "beyond her years" gifts.  She was a creative soul.  She was a visionary for beauty. 

One of her aunts said, "Desiree would take something that another person would throw out onto the side of the road, and recreate it into something beautiful."

Desiree pursued happiness, with a loving appetite.  She was a cheerleader to others to pursue their happiness.  She was loved, so deeply.

Desiree was the heart.  She was a reminder that we have beauty all around us.  Dewdrops glisten around her, with sparkle and light. 
She is the sunrise.

Today, my heart is so heavy -
with love and good fortune. 
I am grateful that I was able to know Briana and Desiree.

And, there is a heaviness of sorrow.
I wanted more time to know both of them.
Earthly time.


Their time was short, but full.

Feeling It

I can feel my blog-on coming back to me.  But, not right now.  I want to blog, but the clock tells me I'll be running late for work.  A semi-foggy morning, so not a good day to drive in a rush to work.

Maybe I'll see you tonight.

Leon Russell Willie Nelson Maria Muldaur Bonnie Raitt

On my obscure youTube travels, I found this. "Trouble In Mind" was on the Willie Nelson/Leon Russell album, way back in the 70s. I listened to this "cassette" a lot, by myself (I really had no friends who wanted to listen with me). I have two vague memories of this song... one was while driving to Santa Cruz. The other was somewhere south of Pismo Beach, driving on Hwy. 101. I don't know where I was driving, but I experienced a strong memory flash when I heard this.

Cotton

I just spend the past 2 days in an Apple training for using iPod/iTouches in my classroom with my students. SOOO much was presented, and I arrived at this training with no background experience, so most of the time I was in high frustration mode. On the second day of training, in the afternoon, with an over-saturated brain, we finished the training with iMovies. I loved this part, and was able to soak in the very lowest level, basic skills of creating an iMovie. My colleagues wondered about me and my enthusiasm, but mostly, they wondered why I had a complete series of pictures already downloaded onto my computer, of the progress of cotton growing.


What can I say? I'm the daughter of a cotton farmer.

Blackbird - Crosby, Stills & Nash

Beautiful song. Beautiful cover. Group crush.

"Daily Om" - timing is everything

I love it when I decide it's time to read the Daily Om that is delivered everyday in my email.  I can't read it everyday, and quite honestly, I don't want to read it everyday.  So, when I feel compeled to seek a message, to ingest some enlightenment, I'm so often amazed that the message is spot on to what I need to read.

I had a number of Daily Om messages in my inbox, but this happened to be the one I opened.   It completely described what I've been trying to hold onto this week.  Wow.  Thank you!
Remember the Sun


The Sun Is Always Shining
If darkness has fallen, we know that the sun is still shining at this very moment somewhere not too far away.


There are times when gloom or darkness causes us to momentarily lose sight of the light. Although it is at these times when the thought of the sun can help us. Its warm, glowing rays brighten even our thoughts, and it’s good to remember that despite appearances the sun is shining right now. We may not be able to see it at this very moment, but if clouds block our view, they are only filtering the sun’s light temporarily. If darkness has fallen, we know that the sun is still shining at this very moment somewhere not too far away, and it’s only a matter of time before it will shine on us again.
When we remember that the sun is still shining, we know that things are still in motion in the universe. Even if life feels like it is at a standstill, sometimes all we need to do is have faith and wait for the time when everything is in its perfect place. Or we can we can choose to follow the cues of the sun and continue doing our work and shining our light, even when we can’t yet see results. In doing so we exercise our patience, making sure we are prepared when opportunity knocks and all other elements are in their right and perfect places.
The sun also reminds us that our own shining truth is never extinguished. Our light shines within us at all times, no matter what else occurs around us. Though the sun gives us daily proof of its existence, sometimes our belief in our own light requires more time. If we think back, however, we can find moments when it showed itself and trust that we will see it again. Like the sun, our light is the energy that connects us to the movements of the universe and the cycles of life and is present at all times, whether we feel its glow or not.

Sad

Sad is a feeling
ride through it and don't avoid it.
It is a flu of the emotions,
It is a dullness in your color aura, 
It is your gut thinking
you must have swallowed a poison,
and your body wants to purge it.

Disappointment.
Routines disrupted
Looking back hurts.
Looking forward confuses.
An unplanned challenge
that demands your strength,
while it weakens your core.

Sadness is real.
It is life and breath,
It is here,
for now.
It fades.
Don't fear it,
it is only a feeling
It is not defining.

No homework calls

I must document this somewhere.  No names will be used, to protect the innocent.

This year, I'm working on a team at school with two other teachers.  We are sharing the same students, rotating throughout the day.  The other two teachers have been working together for the past couple of years, so I agreed to follow their lead on their homework policy.  Students who do not turn in their homework at school  call home immediately and tell their parent.  No excuses. 

I don't permit my students to give me the excuse "I forgot".  I know it sounds harsh, but they say "I forgot" as a cleansing phrase for everything!!  Apparently, it is the universal response that erases all responsibility for anything.

The phone is right by my desk, so I hear these conversations, and I am realizing that these children don't have a lot of phone etiquette or experience.  I can only imagine the parent answering their phone and hearing, "I didn't do my homework" ----  no hello, no identification, no pre-conversation niceties.

One student, in particular, is amusing me considerably with the phone messages he's leaving.  2 days of homework. 2 phone calls home.

Day 1 -   "Grandma? I got in trouble. I didn't do my homework............ *pause*.............. say yes if you're mad.   (remember, this was a message on the voicemail!)


Day 2  (remember, I don't allow them to say "I forgot".  This was ingenious on his part)  "Grandma? I got in trouble. I didn't do my homework, because of my memory................*pause*.................. thank you for hearing this."

After this message, I asked if his Grandma worked.  Response?  "No! My grandma is OLD!"   I dare not check his records to find her age.  I fear she's younger than I am.

Actually, he probably exhibited the most telephone savvy.  At least he thought of a closing statement for each message!!

Honestly?   I hope he misses a lot of assignments.

I wish I'd written this....

I signed up online to receive these inspirations each day,  www.dailyom.com.  I don't read them each day, but on the days I decide to read it, I believe it is because the message is calling for my attention.  This one was so beautifully powerful, I felt compelled to share.

A Great Teacher

The journey of water as it flows upon the earth can be a mirror of our own paths through life. Water begins its residence on earth as it falls from the sky or melts from ice and streams down a mountain into a tributary or stream. In the same way, we come into the world and begin our lives on earth. Like a river that flows within the confines of its banks, we are born with certain defining characteristics that govern our identity. We are born in a specific time and place, within a specific family, and with certain gifts and challenges. Within these parameters, we move through life, encountering many twists, turns, and obstacles along the way just as a river flows.

Water is a great teacher that shows us how to move through the world with grace, ease, determination, and humility. When a river breaks at a waterfall, it gains energy and moves on, as we encounter our own waterfalls, we may fall hard but we always keep moving on. Water can inspire us to not become rigid with fear or cling to what’s familiar. Water is brave and does not waste time clinging to its past, but flows onward without looking back. At the same time, when there is a hole to be filled, water does not run away from it in fear of the dark; instead, water humbly and bravely fills the empty space. In the same way, we can face the dark moments of our life rather than run away from them.

Eventually, a river will empty into the sea. Water does not hold back from joining with a larger body, nor does it fear a loss of identity or control. It gracefully and humbly tumbles into the vastness by contributing its energy and merging without resistance. Each time we move beyond our individual egos to become part of something bigger, we can try our best to follow the lead of the river.

Don't let the past remind us of what we are not now

I've been on a Judy Collins wave.  She helped me get my classroom prepared in a peaceful, unrushed way.  So, I did some youtubing, and I found her with Graham Nash and Stephen Stills.

She and Stephen have a past together.  The way they greeted each other.  The delight in her eyes.  The embrace from Stephen.  These people have carried each other in their hearts.  I know it!  I can see it. I've been entertaining an innocent obsession with them since watching this. I've been thinking about relationships and love.

Just because a relationship doesn't lead to marriage and everlasting union, doesn't mean that it wasn't real.  A relationship can be full of love, energy, and connection, but for a variety of reasons, it doesn't or can't progress for the long haul.  This does not lessen it's value. 

Timing is key.  Personal paths and positions on the path. Sync. Alignments. Hearts. Purpose.  The relationship does not deflate, lose value, nor become frivolous, simply because it didn't lead to marriage. I wonder how many people are carrying a relationship in their heart, a locked box with a tiny key hidden under a secret rock.  Consciously ignoring it. Subconsciously embracing it.

Stephen embraced that relationship.  He acknowledge their strength.  Their union. Their love.  That's forever.  And always. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQ7rrszpJlI

Music Diaries

I'm working on a project that sprouted this summer between Cathy and me.  We have been creating lists, as a means of entertainment, since the 1960s.  Go figure, the two people on earth who consider list-making a "fun" pastime, would find each other and become best friends forever.  Probably because the chances of finding another list-lover was slim.  And, Cathy ran the risk of the only other list-lover being some Asian girl named Kim Chee. 

While visiting the Larson manor, we list lusted, "Let's make a list of our top ten, all time favorite songs."

Oh, this would be a list too wonderful to ignore!  We started making rules (which may be altered, dropped, or stretched as we see fit).

"We'll make our lists privately!"

"Then we'll share and see how many songs are on both

of our lists!"

"Can we have more than 10?"

We were spiraling into a list-lovers' frenzy!!

Then other topics started to pop into our listy brains..........

Worst lyrics
Best sing-a-longs
Songs that make you cry
Songs you secretly loved
Songs you can't stand!
Annoying artists

We were making lists of topics for lists!!  We were officially out of control.

I thought about this during my extended travels, and decided that when I got home, I was going to make hard-covered books that would hold all of our music loves and truths.  I went online to find directions, and I started my book-binding process.

I'm hoping, by the end of August (probably September), to have the books finished.  Each page will have a topic/question related to musical loves, hates, and memories.  These books will be fluid, lifelong works in progress.  They will tell your musical story.
My dream is for our first book sharing to be on the beach, in Santa Barbara.  Then we can drive inland to Ojai and catch the pink moment.

Or, maybe back at the Larson Manor.

Would you like a book of your own?

                                                                                              

Just get in the water

"Just get in the water. You are protected."

This summer I stepped into the water. I didn't need protection, I just needed guidance and encouragement. It was the right thing to do.  There was purpose in this calling to go to Sedona.

My gratitude is deep, for the gift of this summer.  The fuzziness of my path gained more clarity. More trust, less waiting for guarantees.  That was my lesson.

I was smart to fill my soul's tank with the South Jordan tribe.  They fueled me good.




There's a dance going on inside me. Wild.

Another day of hiking with my friends.  I can tell, this is something I need to do as often as I am able.  It is unfortunate that I live in a non hikeworthy place.  It is fortunate that within 2 hours of driving time, either northeast, east, or southwest, I can be somewhere hikeworthy.

Last week it was the Sunset Trail in Sequoia National Park, on a rainy day in June.  Layered clothing, yellow poncho, and frizzy hair.  And sore legs, feet, thighs, and ankles for 4 days.  A beautiful hike.

Yesterday, a shady, sunny hike to Tokopah Falls. This time, newly purchased hiking shoes, soft comforting hiking socks, a large ice pack in my soft backpack, and a water toting holster pack on my front.  The gear is part of the fun!! Also, I was accidentally well color-coordinated.

 This hike was easier, with less of an ascending trail.  It followed the the Kaweah River, which offered energizing background sounds and random cool water particles.

Listen to the silence. There is much to hear.

Nature's perfume is mentally healing.

Feel the earth, through your feet and skin.

Stop often and give thanks.







historic walk

The LHS all class reunion has come and gone.  For one long weekend, we had the opportunity to revisit the 60s, 70s, and 80s, through old friends, shared stories, and heart links.  Elementary and high school classmates, proof of our youth, witnesses to days of banana bike seats, bell bottom pants (green apple green), stolen kisses, piles of kids in cars with no one seatbelted, and the 14th Avenue drive-in.

We played softball, listened to the same music, dragged Main, and wondered about adulthood.  We awkwardly learned social skills (some sooner than others), we criticized, loved, and crushed on teachers. 

Together we were fresh and unwritten. 
 

"Remember the time..." 
"Have you kept in contact with...."
"Whatever happened to....."
"I was hoping..... would be here"
"Let's do this more often."

This is a reunion.  A walk through your youth; now your history.  Yes, I was once young.  Yes, I had my turn, when the future was a long, mysterious tunnel, waiting for me to step in and write my story.

"You haven't changed a bit!"  Such a funny remark, and heard throughout the crowd repeatedly! The accusation is thrilling, but if actually true.... a disaster. 


The chance to spend time with people who have the ability to see your buried youth,
hidden behind the wrinkles,
the weight,
the gray hair,
the bald head.

And still, "You haven't changed a bit!"

Friends -  who can look at you, and still see traces of the 17 year old you.


And for one weekend, you feel the joy in the rediscovery.

Life's Trapeze

An article written by Donna Savage states:

"I am learning to live in what I think of as 'the space between the trapeze bars.' I let go of the bar behind me (the past) and the bar I am reaching for (the future) is not yet in view. In that freefall space, magic happens."


This idea caught me by the shoulders and asked for my attention.  There is only one way to move forward, and that is to fly through the air. 

"We are the divine embrace
Here to enter the space
Between the trapeze bars
The space betrween letting go
And catching on
Where all the magic happens.
I let go and for seconds
Free fall into the void of space
My hands outreached
In faith."

I spend a lot of time fearful of the flying space.  I swing back and forth from my present bar, spending my time and thoughts longing for the next bar, but focusing on the possible drop.  That bar of the future won't come to get me.  It won't stop and let me step to it, with firm ground beneath my feet.  I've got to fly.

30 Years of Teaching

On the last day of school, June 2, I officially added the 30th notch to my
-years of teaching- belt.

I started my career in Room 8.  After about 12 years, I was moved to Room 14.  That was a tough move.  Obviously, I'm a person who is comfortable with predictable surroundings.  I WAS room 8.  I became Room 14.

14 is a gang related number, so the numbers from my door were often stolen.  We just couldn't keep numbers on my door.  Then, the rooms were all renumbered, and I became Room 11.  I really like living in the number 11.

I have logged miles and miles and miles of walking on these sidewalks of Stratford School. 

I've played softball on these fields with Stratford kids.
Volleyball in the gym with Stratford kids.
Danced on the gym floor with Stratford kids.
Laughed, without measure, in these rooms, gym, and playground, with Stratford kids.
I've held hands, hugged, comforted, and disciplined.  Oh, and I've taught... 600 - 700 kids.
 
My kids grew, and our relationship stayed intact.  I've had the great pleasure to watch them grow into teens, adults, parents, and friends.  There are far more than just a few who are still in my life.  Each one is a blessing to my heart.  I've taught their children. I continue to teach their children.  I've taught entire families. 

Personal evolution...............

I've walked these sidewalks as Miss Bettencourt.
I've run along these sidewalks, the energy of a youthful teacher, Tigger bouncing between the office and my room.


I recall the first time Mr. Villa called me on the intercom and addressed me as "Mrs. Wiens"... in August of 1983.  My heart raced!

I've waddled along these sidewalks, pregnant, swollen, and tired.  I drove away after a full teaching day on Thursday, April 7, and delivered my baby Jake on Friday, April 8.  Almost like the moms in the rice fields.  I evolved into a mother on this school site.

I suffered personal losses while at this school.  I remember the exact spot where Anne and Doug told me about our beloved Scott, and my knees buckled. The principal gave us his office so we could openly shed our tears, while my friends at school made arrangements to take my class for the rest of the day.

I received "the phone call" in the middle of class, that I needed to get to the hospital immediately, because my sister was not going to make it through the day.  My students witnessed my gut response to this, and they rose to the occasion.  Their big eyes of sympathy forever engrained in my memory.  I was exhibiting real life to them.  They handled it.


Technology evolved..............


I've woven 35 mm reel to reel tape from a feeder tape to the empty receiver reel, to show flickery movies to students.  My favorite was "Hemo the Magnificent"  circa-1958.

I've had purple fingers, fingernails, and often smudges of purple on my face from using a mimeograph machine to make student copies. I recall, with affection, the rhythmic sound of the machine churning out my copies -

tha-tump, tha-tump,tha-tump, tha-tump,tha-tump, tha-tump... 

and the sweet smell of the toxic ink.

I've used the overhead projector to create my own bulletin board characters (I didn't think it was "right" to purchase premade bulletin boards!). 

I've gone from a huge suitcase sized record player, playing scratchy singalong records, to cassette recorders, to CD players, to Pandora custom stations.

I can remember the thrill of being introduced to a "computer" in 1983.  A big, bulky thing, with a greenish screen, called an Apple IIe.  I couldn't believe that someday we could possibly have a computer in EACH classroom!!  Oh my! How could our district ever afford such an expense!! 

Then came the computers color screens.  AND a mouse! I can't even remember how we maneuvered a computer before the mouse.  Teachers had to take turns cleaning the "mouse balls" in the computer lab. 

The dreaded Apple computer bomb - ugh. The sight of this still gives me heartache.

                            

Now, I have a laptop cart in my classroom, that houses 22 student laptops. 

My overhead projector, after spending too much time ignored in the corner, has been retired to the storage garage. I felt guilty sending it off, cart and all.

Replacing my OHP is this  new Elmo, that projects real life images to my 10 foot wide screen.

Yesterday I was trained on the use of an iTouch, so that my students can use those in my room next year. Amazing realization that paper/pencil assignments are going to join the projector, overhead, and IIe computers!! Maybe even before my retirement!

2011 - Room 11 - The evolution of my education.  I've lived an entire life on the campus of Stratford School.

New Music Love

I'm loving Jake Shimabukuro and his magical ukelele.  It is so thrilling to continue to find music that melts into your soul, whispers melodies into the bloodstream, soothes the spirit, inspires directions that haven't been considered.  I feel happy that the world keeps growing people with talent and individuality.  Thank you.

Oh, and I like saying his last name.  So multi-syllabic.

why?

it is a question that is reserved for the human brain.
it is an earthly question
And what might we want for an answer?
What might satisfy the aching heart that asks "why?"

God smiles
for He understands.
He calls His children back to His arms,
Enveloping and delighting in them upon their return.
Every child is greeted by the Father with the truest depths of love.
Home.

Why?
Love is the answer.

"Envy is counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own."

Allow me to take a moment for some bitchiness.

I have a great aversion to people who desire envy.  These are the people who can't really appreciate their own accomplishments, their own happiness, their own path, unless someone is envying them.  Coveting their belongings. Wishing for their life.

Do not court me as your awestruck audience. Do not use me as a tally mark in your secret scorebook.  I'm not interested in being tallied.

I will very willingly be happy for you.  I will rejoice in your happiness as you climb your own mountain.  I will recognize your hard work, your sacrifices, and your endurance to reach your goals.  I will marvel over the beauty of your belongings, and share your glee as your create a surrounding that fits your soul. But, please... do not expect me to yearn to BE you!!  That I will not do. 

Allow me to applaud you from my own vantage point, where I am very happy and climbing, trekking on my own path.  I find your path lovely, but I find my path equally lovely.  Really!

I have my own landmarks that spark my personal fire. Not less, just different.

All of us are creating personal notches.  Getting our footing. Sometimes slipping, even falling.  Rising again and marching on.  Enjoying the scenery on paths, curves, and turns that weren't planned.  My path is twisty. Sometimes I don't use a map, sometimes I need a guide.  I love the whimisical journey, even the storms, and the choice to go off course to chase a butterfly.  I want to gather flowering friends along the way, carrying a bouquet of colors in my heart.  I want to build memories using all of my senses. A song. A smell. A taste. A touch.  Each reminding me of a moment, a person, a life postcard.

This is me.  It works for me.

I want to know about your path.  I want to experience other mountains, other journeys, listening, learning, sitting next to you and turning the pages of your album of life. I may even consider walking some of those paths, to see what they can bring to me.  That is the grandeur of this life.  We can each walk a path and come back with an entirely different assortment of memories.

Be happy for yourself! This is good stuff, and you don't need anyone else to amplify your experience. It is remarkable enough to stand on it's own, so applaud yourself and relish in yourself.  That is good enough!  I am strongly capable of loving your experiences without wanting to secretly trail you.

I will never put on your shoes. 
I will never hope to have your legs, eyes, or gut. 
For, they would not fit me.

Life Lab

The reason I was in Santa Cruz was to attend a 2-day School Gardening Workshop.  I am not a gardener, but I am a teacher who believes children should do more at school than sit at a desk.  School just isn't as much fun these days (in my opinion).  I attended so I could learn how a non-gardening teacher creates mini-gardeners.

I was hugely inspired!

First of all, the people who work at this heaven-on-Earth facility, have smiles on their faces that can only be produced by working at a job that they love passionately! Daily, they are surrounded by the most beautiful scenery in the state, clean air, and happy energy.  I hate them.  I want to be them.  Envy is an ugly thing.

Notice the ocean in the background?  Understand my envy?

This honey bee box was quite cool.  Unlatch the door and open, and you can view the inner workings of a bee hive.


I found this structure interesting.  Huge slab of slate with marbles attached in the etchings.  I figured we might recreate this at school one day, using all the confiscated marbles collected by the principal.

Artichoke plants are quite beautiful, in addition to producing a very yummy vegetable.

Driving to Santa Cruz, I drove right through the artichoke capital of the world... Castroville.  The fields were heavy with artichoke plants, ready for harvesting.  I took a picture of an artichoke field, but it didn't turn out very clear. Disappointing.


I took this picture to remind myself that this is a plant I want in my yard.  I've seen it before, loved it, but had forgotten about it.  I think I might leave the house today in search of Mexican Sage, even though I'm thinking my yard is getting a little "purple overload".... seems I have an attractive to purple blossoms.

I learned about worm bins.  Lots of creepy crawlies find the bin to be a delicious home. 

I don't know the name of this succulent, but isn't it a beauty?!  I took these pictures for my students, to use as an example of patterns in nature. 

And, just for good measure, to add to the ultimate pleasure and plethora of information I absorbed at this workshop, we didn't start our day until 9:00 am!  This gave us time for an early morning walk along Sea Cliff Drive in Santa Cruz.  Can you imagine starting each day with this???

Power

Beauty

Soothing

Peace.............

My July plan is morphing

                                             Lemoore

                                               to South Jordan

                                          a Franti first for me

                 and  IG in Layton !?!

                (quote... "What's this world coming to?)

                          from South Jordan to Sedona

                           THEN!

                         I saw this picture, and started to change my mind.

                                     My stomach got queasy

                                  THEN!

                                I remembered posting

                                 this picture  on 1-1-11

The journey to our dreams is not always a straight path.  It is not always easy, and often, there are scary bridges that make us want to turn around. 

I'm taking the long way to this dream.  I'm crossing the bridge.  I'm singing the song. 

Santa Cruz Spirit

I was in Santa Cruz last week.  Such a strange, wonderful place. 
It's progressively zen and old school hippie time warp.
I love it there....
it's just weird enough and just smart enough. 
I think that's me.

I have two separate Santa Cruz attachments. 

The city
Veganville 
Beachy
Boardwalk
Pacific Avenue
Chex Mix of people

The redwoods 
Natural
A winding canyon road
Politely looming redwoods
Embracing sounds
Critters
Hair frizzing air

I'd happily tolerate umkempt hair for more time among the trees.

Sedona - step 1

For the past 2 summers, I've had a calling to visit Sedona, alone.  I'm not sure why I feel compelled to go there on my own, but I'd like to believe that something awaits me that needs my undivided attention.  I don't even remember what I saw or read that initiated this pull.  2 summers ago I wasn't ready.  I wasn't brave enough.  I wasn't brave enough to hit the road on my own and go somewhere knowing no one.  I wasn't brave enough to drive hours and hours, state by state.

Last summer, driving with a purpose, to Utah, and experiencing "road freedom".... I knew I could do it again.  I knew I wanted to do it again.  The time has arrived.

I've wanted to learn about aromatherapy, and I'd been searching, searching for the right avenue in California.  A few months ago I searched for aromatherapy in Sedona.  Found it!!!  And the timing started to feel right.  Yes, this would be my Sedona summer.

So, this morning, I paid my deposit on a rental casita.  One week.  I've made contact with the aromatherapy workshop women.

My map is lining up.

Catch A Falling Star - Neal and Leandra

What Teachers Make Final Moviebk2 0001

The pleasures of teaching

This ain't no easy gig, teaching. Many days, I'm faced with a dilemma before I can unlock the door to my classroom. "Informants" filling me in on the happenings of the playground. Permission slips waved in my face, before I've decided the best way to collect them most efficiently (so I don't misplace them). "I couldn't do my homework" tales start pleading their case. Kids pushing each other, annoying each other, and expecting me to referee. I sigh big sighs, and get the day started.

The pleasures of teaching.


On many days, when I'm walking to the office from the parking lot, I'm behind a 7th grade boy and his 1st grade sister. He is, possibly, the sweetest big brother EVER! He loves his little sister so much, and this I know from simply walking behind them on many occasions. I've watched them walk up to the school holding hands. I've witnessed him patiently and gently coaxing her to keep moving, when she's put on the skids and not wanted to take another step toward her school day. Last week, he was using his cell phone to take her picture, while she was striking a cover girl pose. He looked at his pic, showed it to her and I heard him say, "Look. You look so pretty!"

The pleasures of walking to this job.

My "challenge" kid this year! Whoa! Not an easy task. He was wearing me out. I was privately hoping he'd move. He was stealing every ounce of my energy, and I was feeling like emotional road kill. I've kept in close contact with dad and grandparents. We're on the same page. Dad was a student at our school, so he has my back, and I have his. After winter break, this student was the reason I was moaning and groaning about returned to school.

But, the light has started to shine. He's coming around. I'm giving him his space to be wiggly, fidgety, and crazy. He has to be reminded to give me my teaching space. He and I have met in the middle. He's trying to get his work done. I'm writing daily notes to his dad. I'm just the reporter. I've told the student that his behavior and choices write what goes into the note.

Last week I awarded him "Student of the Week". Strike while the iron is hot. We're going to make it. Just yesterday, I found myself thinking, "If I have to do a 3/4 combination next year, maybe I should keep this kid. He knows me. Why should he have to waste time starting all over again with someone else." Crap!

The pleasure (and insanity) of teaching.

I do not experience one single day without a child telling me I'm pretty. This class is really a bunch of shmoozers, and I love it! They notice my clothes. My earrings. My hair. Anything and everything, and they compliment their observation on a regular basis. I'm told I'm the best teacher in the WHOLE WORLD. I respond with, "I'm your best teacher until next year." Sometimes, I think they're using complimentary warfare to disarm me. Smart kids.

The pleasure of teaching 8 and 9 year olds.

At the end of each day, we walk to the front of the school in a cluster. I have a group of girls who all want to hold my hand, hug my waist (well, the area where my waist used to be), lock arms with me, touch and hold on to me in some way. We look like a parade float, making our way in unison down the hallway. I've told them I need to be an octopus teacher, so I have enough arms for everyone. They tell me stories on the way. They giggle with one another as they volley for position near me. They give me big hugs, squeezing hand grips, and "I don't want to leave you" smiles before running off to their mothers.

I see former students in front of the school. Now the mothers and fathers, waiting to pick up their children. I walk out to visit. A quick hello, love on their newest babe-in-arms, ask about their parents and siblings. I'm genuinely happy and heart-warmed to see each and every one of these "kids", who used to be the group lined up at my door each morning. I've been at this school for a long time.

The pleasure of a job, that ain't no easy gig.

Here Comes the Sun: A Tribute to George Harrison by Paul Simon, Crosby ...

Here Comes the Sun

The sun has returned.
He came and kicked the grey blanket off of our valley.
He is welcomed back with open arms,
like a returning lover.
He is warm fudge
topping a sundae.

Hello Mr. Sun,
you have so many fans.
Everyone is talking about your return
and showing the love.
I knew you'd be back
come February.

Our spirits are lifted
You are the life of the party.
We're outside again,
Your honey rays dripping
on our faces.
You are the song,
You are the invitation
to the dance.

Apology

Blogger has added a bunch of new fonts. Since I don't know how, nor do I have the technological equipment to truly customize my blog, I'm beyond thrilled with the additional choices.

I am a child of early typewriters. The unimaginative limitations has not completely vanished from my memory. Need I tell you how delighted I was, (was it really only the late 1980's/early 1990s?) when word processing actually offered some font choices? And don't even get me going on the back flips when color choices became available!!

With all of these available fonts for my blog, I'm not going to be able to help myself. I wasn't born with this red hair, and my styles have been everything from a spiky bob (late 80s), to super short (short enough it didn't really need to be combed) permed, bangs, long, medium, shagged (not Austin Powers shagged), and ruined. If I'd do that to my hair, well.... what do you expect with font choices?

So, I shall apologize in advance, for the Wal Mart tacky changes I will be making to this blog on a regular basis. I can tell you right now, I won't be able to resist.

2011 So Far

How great is this?
It is only January 17, and I've already learned new things in this new year.

As of January 1

quinoa flakes make a great morning hot cereal
add a little Almond Breeze
a banana
1 (or 2) tspn. of peanut butter
This is a holding power food
very yum




I've learned to love Zum soap.
Goat milk feeds my skin all silky good.
Currently using Lavender/Frankincense (confession: I had to look up the spelling of Frankincense)




prayer flags

I've seen them, but didn't realize their color meanings and purpose. Torn, not cut. I like that. Thank you, Cathy. You've been teaching me new things for 40+ years. Imagine what you'll teach me during the next 40!!



Weight Watchers DOES work - 5 lbs worth since Dec. 28
(yes, the quinoa hot cereal is on the diet)
I've even been allowed a couple of cheats on fudge and lasagna - not together



And, during the writing of this blog, I've reaffirmed my passionate love for Zappos.com. My first order for 2011: rainboots. I'm planning on attending the Tulare International Farm Show in February. The weather is notorious for raining during the outdoor event, creating sloshy walkways. I placed my order this morning about 9:30 am, and just received an email from Zappos that the boots will be here overnight!! I LOVE YOU ZAPPOS!!!




So, imagine what is yet to be learned this year of 2011, if already I've added the above to my repertoire (I didn't need to look up that spelling) of knowledge.

I think I'll keep adding to this list, as the year progresses.

Sensory Deprivation

Winter Doldrums

I need color

wildflowers splashing,
blue skies and blue waters,
yellows and oranges in the sky,
green, green, green.
oxygen




I need sound

waves crashing
wind humming
trees dancing



I need scents

clean air
organic forest floors
scattered seaweed

I need to feel

sandy feet
cushy redwood needles decomposing
redwood creatures in my hand, tickling
cool forest air, dewy, leftover morning mists
rays beating on my face, re-energizing my soul




My January hibernation is making me twitchy.
I'm feeling ready to kick off the grey blanket.
My soul is feeling suffocated, and needs to breathe.
Stretching arms
legs that need to jig
This burrow is getting small, restrictive.

I'll work harder at accepting the need for this time of quiet.
February will tease
March will open
April will deliver

Today's Name

In a previous post, I included a quote about naming each of your days. I've really held onto that thought, and since reading that quote, I've tried to make myself more conscious of my days. I wonder how many of my days would have been named "Mundane"? I remember a day that was named "Huh?"

Today's name would have been Time and Order.

Being on vacation with no big plans, it's given me time to work and complete tasks that I don't normally find time to accomplish. Oh, according to the clock and the 24 hours in a day, there certainly is time to tackle these organizational types of tasks. But, I just don't stretch myself much to find the time. Normally, I'm just working the day, then trying to regather enough energy to go back to work the next day.

Today, I got my pantry reorganized. Over zealous purchases of multiple cans of tomato paste, now outdated, tossed. Numerous opened bags of rice, compiled into one large bag. Canned products together, with closer dated cans at the front, 2012 dates at the back. Beans together - tomatoes together - hominy and diced chilis, just waiting for their call to Tortilla Soup duty. Grains are on the left, eye level shelf. I'm well stocked on quinoa and not ready to give up on the black rice. It stays. Baking ingredients are housed together now, with enough sugar to bake sugar cookies for all of Southwest's flights during month of January. Not sure when my obsession with buying sugar started.

Today was a double thrill. Time and order.

1-1-11

An open heart
A welcoming spirit
joy
dance
nourishment
wings
sunrise
lifting soul
breathe
refresh
respond
create



the journey continues

2011