Running in Place

Four years ago when this blog began my goal was to simplify things so that I would have time to be creative.  It would be great to be now accepting a literary award or satisfied that I had developed a daily meditative practice or be so relaxed that my family members didn't recognize me.  These things would theoretically be great.  But I haven't, and I didn't, and they do (recognize me).  The only thing I have achieved in the past year is proof that what I use to think was "too busy" was just a tiny bit of the big picture.

14 months ago I tore my rotator cuff.  I didn't know it was torn until I'd accomplished six months of failed physical therapy and the same number of sleepless nights.  Meanwhile, I was feeling the familiar pull to go back to get my masters.  So in March and April 2013 I researched and in May I began an intensive one year Masters in Education.  Two days after my program began, the surgeon looked at my MRI scans and told me I needed surgery.  It had taken me years to get up the courage to go back for my masters. People now said I would have to postpone or quit. 

In June both of my daughters graduated three days apart from each other, one from high school and one from college.  I cut off all my hair in anticipation of the summer of the sling. 
We were seriously broke, so we cancelled celebrating my June birthday the week before my surgery.  The summer was filled with left-handed typing of papers and discussion posts, sleeping in a second-hand red pleather recliner chair, five times a day of physical therapy, and even a trip to a San Antonio training with my shoulder and arm in a sling. My family helped as best they could and endured my grouchiness, and I generally found that I liked the Masters learning, and slowly gained use of my dominant arm.

I'm two-handed typing today.  I can raise my hand to be called on.  My hands can work together to squeeze shampoo into my palm.  I have nearly completed seven Masters courses, with three to go.
I still have a stack of papers to grade and a homework assignment tomorrow.  I'm still squeezing in time to write for fun, although some of the education and technology essays are creative too.
I could be grouchy that as I was hoping for ease and freedom I got suffering and the most intensive schedule of my life, but I'm not.  I'm thankful. 

Thanks universe for a pain-free, nearly fully-functional right arm.  Thanks family for moving my arm around five times a day even if I cursed and cried.  Thanks students for letting me share a story about a Masters teacher or assignment.  Thanks for the opportunity to see what I'm made of and how much farther I had left to dig in.  In four months I will have a Masters.  In five months I will have a fully healed rotator cuff and stronger arms. 

I guess life is a little like this stone I photographed hiking pre-injury.  Lots of days you've got to let life flow over and around you.  After awhile those experiences shape you and hopefully smooth out your rough edges.

NaNoWriMo

Today is the fourth day of NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month.  I am going to try for the 50,000 words in a month to make a novel.  First I thought I had no plot line, but I have been dabbling with a certain story for about five years, so I decided to pursue that.  I scrapped all other versions of the book mostly because locating them would give me an excuse to go hunting not writing.  Then I did head to the website for the event http://www.nanowrimo.org.  There I realized I was supposed to sign up, so I did, and I made a profile, and I looked up this blog, and then I got to writing.

I would still be writing today, but my eyes got blurry after just about 1200 words.  Is this a trick?  I was going to go and take a break and watch "Nashville" On-Demand, but then I thought I'd better stick to the NanoWriMo suggestion of proclaiming:  I am writing a novel! to everyone I could.  This, I believe, is supposed to force me to forge ahead because I don't want the shame of having to tell everyone that I finished November noveless.  Also I do have students from five years ago who knew I was writing this story, but have stopped asking about it.  This tells me they have given up hope.  This is no way to treat a teacher.

In January I will begin teaching a Creative Writing class to high school seniors, and I would love to tell them I wrote a novel in a month, while teaching full time, and parenting a high school and college senior, and fitting in daily exercise for my health, and being a semi-present wife, and a semi-sort-of-decent friend.  I feel strongly that I may need a nap soon.  But really, all excuses aside, I'm going for it.  It took me over twenty years to commit to regular exercise, but I finally did, and I'm fitter than I've every been.  It just takes a commitment to change and the daily work ethic. So if you'll excuse me, I'd better go write at least 500 more words.  I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Camping With Critters

Ah summer! Relaxing days of sunshine and nothing to do. Here in Western Washington the sun was an extremely late arrival for summer, and it turned out there were many fewer lazy days than I had planned for.

Our final trip of this summer was a three night camping trip to Baker Lake, WA. There we were sure to get some quality family time. We packed up food bins, tent, and the essentials and drove to Horseshoe Cove. Usually we reserve in advance, but Elysse (my 19 year-old) is working a summer temp job, and we weren't sure about the dates until the day before.

We considered it good fortune when we found a spot easily that was spacious, relatively private, flat, and near a restroom and water. This feeling of luck was extremely short lived.

Without a paid reservation we needed cash or a check. Oops! We did not have enough of the former and the checkbook lay peacefully on a desk at home. We paid for two nights and told the camp host we'd drive back to town (an hour) and retrieve the rest the next day.

As we set up, one of my nature-loving daughters proclaimed the great find of a very "cute" inch worm. Cool! Five minutes later when we realized that one inchworm is cute, but a horde of them is like camping in a B Horror Movie set, my husband and I proclaimed it to be no problem. A few bugs...we're camping...no big deal. Over the course of four days it became a big deal. The little "buggers" were hanging from silken threads, climbing on the tables, backpacks, backs of chairs, collars, sleeves. I removed one from my pajama pants leg, and my husband found one in a more private area of clothing. Likely related to these pests was the near constant falling of tiny debris from trees that while in the tent, sounded like a light rain. Leaf debris? Inchworm leavings? I don't know, but it made cooking and eating a race for cover.

We did enjoy time around the fire, s'mores, a couple of rousing games of Munchkin Booty, and time with each other. I don't want to give the impression that we don't know how to make bug camping fun. I also got to see a black bear lumbering down the road on my way out of the campground to go find cash to pay for the last night at our site...lucky number 13. We also adventured out to find Baker Hot Springs off Highway 1130.

On our last full day we headed off to see the hot springs that came highly recommended by a friend. We drove for 4.5 miles mostly over sketchy gravel road until we came to a parking area. A frequent visitor informed us that the springs was an easy 1/3 of a mile hike from where we were. I got out of our four-door Honda Accord (circa 1992) and slammed the door on my oldest daughter's fingers! She was in the back seat, so I hadn't thought to look for her fingers clutching the front door jam. She was in pain, and she was angry. She didn't want help or comfort or ME. I felt terrible and lucky that nothing was broken. When she was able, we set out on the trail.

Kim and Elysse (she of the squished fingers) arrived first where a couple was just getting out and putting on clothes. Yes, many hot spring visitors prefer to enjoy the warm water nude. Bringing up the rear of the hiking was Mckenna (my 16 year-old) and me. Upon our arrival, the couple was now clothed and head off to explore a trail. We all looked at the glorified gray puddle and wondered if it was safe to go in the murky water. Baker Hot Springs is warmed by sulfur from the volcanic activity, so it also smells like eggs...not fresh ones. I couldn't help think of the movie Dantes Peak where the natural hot springs becomes boiling while unsuspecting soakers become soup, but I kept this thought to myself. Anyway, we got in (with swim suits). It was a warm sunny day and the 100+ degrees of water weren't exactly inviting. Biting flies also like the hot springs, so fending them off wasn't that much fun either. We didn't stay very long.

By the last evening at camp, 3/4 of us wanted to go home early and sleep in bug-free beds, but we toughed it out. It's camping trips like this one that make me wonder if we go camping more for the appreciation of the conveniences of home, than the enjoyment of nature. When I think of summer days dwindling and busy school days on the horizon, I will try to remember that there are different kinds of stress and maybe deadlines and schedules are not as intense as camping with critters.

Life Simplified? Not so much!

It's true that 2010 was supposed to be the year I simplified, but really things are not simpler. I think getting okay with the way things ARE is perhaps a more realistic goal. In early April I did finish my ProCert and last week I received my Professional Teacher Certificate to show that that is behind me. May and June should have been less demanding and complicated by thanks to the stress of ProCert by May I had shingles (not a terrible case, but exhausting) and in June my oldest daughter graduated from high school. So no time to rest or recover.

Summer has treated me well though or really I have been better to myself: regular exercise, healthy eating, time with friends and travel.

In late June I went to AVID training in Dallas (AVID = Advancement Via Individual Determination) with 12 collegues (all men) and learned a lot and had a great time. Thankfully I work with great people who are also a great time to hang out with. By time I returned home I was glad to find drier air, cooler days and food that was not beef or BBQ.

By the end of July my family of four, plus my wonderful mother-in-law hopped a plane for 11 hours and flew to Beijing, China on a tour. Dallas weather was cool and comfortable in comparison to Beijing this time of year. It was a fabulous trip. I climbed to the top of a section of the great wall, walked hours through the Forbidden City (no longer Forbidden), rode a rickshaw through Hutong and older section of the city, and ate Chinese food until I was ready to go back to beef and BBQ!

We came home after just 8 days grateful to have gone and equally grateful to be back. I spent two lovely weeks in my own home before heading out again with my daughters to my Dad's house in Eastern Oregon. He now has what I call a "gentleman's farm" overlooking the Umatilla River with grand views of pastures of horses and the curving river. We swam and tubed the river and ate delicious home cooked food courtesy of my step mother, Dee. My teen daughters even let me read to them at bed time for old times sake.

Now I am nursing a pulled ham string and wondering how to stop time to extend my vacation. I've already been back to my classroom to prepare things and have meetings. Students will be back on Wednesday. I'm not ready, but I know they aren't either. By 8:20 on Wednesday morning I will be prepared to begin a new school year. I don't think things will be simpler, but I think I am finding better ways to go with the flow and enjoy the moment.

Simplify

Today marks the end of my holiday vacation. I am currently laying on my bed under a multicolored fleece blanket my mother made for me with my cat, Cleo, nestled into the crook of my knee. On New Year's Day I acquired my daughters' cold...no not H1N1, just a regular cold with a cough. Several days before I had already decided the theme of 2010 needed to be SIMPLIFY. I made this resolution after spending a typical two week holiday racing around like a lunatic wrapping, baking, cleaning, and cooking.

The actual moment of clarity came as I sat on the couch next to my 17 year-old daughter Elysse who was frantically knitting a scarf for her boyfriend that she began on Thursday and needed done by Saturday, although she has done very little knitting in her life. This project was my idea and thus, my fault. She had been trying for weeks to come up with an idea for a special gift and finally resorted to asking her mother for ideas. There was no time for shopping and my other ideas she proclaimed as too lame. As I sat next to her on Christmas day watching her try to knit faster, I was visited by the ghosts of my Christmas projects past: baking a yule-log cake for eight hours that tasted terrible, sewing a comforter cover for the guest bed the night before the in-laws arrived, hand beading fringe for velvet scarves for my daughters (then ages 9 and 6). Like Scrooge, I had an epiphany. This is not what I want to teach my daughters, to do more, making Christmas, all other holidays and most of the other months of the year something to get through instead of something to enjoy.

So this is my vow to myself this year. Each day I will find one way to do something more simply or just to do less. I hope this will create more opportunity to appreciate the good parts of life and find time to create the things I enjoy making.

Today my one thing is to lay in bed. It was actually my mother-in-law's idea. I was standing in the kitchen prepared to bake multiple loaves of banana bread before we had to throw out bananas when Lavonne suggested I go lay down. She thought this was the best path to improved health. I went immediately upstairs. I may or may not make banana bread in the future, but not today with a cold.

I think I will follow the lead of my cat and curl up for a nap. Less is truly more.

Teen Thanksgiving

It is our first day back from Thanksgiving Break. I took three days off and spent one day on homework (mine for my Procert Portfolio) and grading. I still am carrying a Santa Claus-sized bag which doesn't include 60 journals because I collected them again last week but heft that much "work load" at a time. I don't know why I have to play hooky to get to write this blog, but it seems to be only way.

Today I thought I would spend five minutes or so polling my classes about how they spent four days off. This gave them an extra few minutes of vacation before Seniors read the final pages of Beowulf and Juniors read a cheery story about a town that stones one person a year because of tradition called "The Lottery". My juniors are convinced that short stories are always focused on the weird, dark or twisted. Well, not always.

So here are the three questions I asked:

1. Were you injured over the four days off? If so, how?
   
2. Did anything unusual for a holiday weekend occur?
3. What was the best thing you ate all weekend?

The first question is a sure-fire teen conversation starter. It can be difficult to get them to stop talking about injuries. One boy was injured multiple times while doing unusual things. The first on his list was the multiple injuries that occurred from riding his long board (not skateboard he explained to me previously) down a set of stairs. A student asked: "Why would you do that?" His reply: "It seemed like fun."

There were, however, holiday-related injuries. One girl peeled her finger while she peeled potatoes. I remarked that she must have been peeling for awhile and gotten tired, but she shook her head and said it was on the first one. A boy in the same class suffered from a small peanut oil burn on his face as he helped his dad cook the turkey which I am assuming they were deep frying. Another boy spilled liquified sugar for a dessert on his finger which resulted in a painful burn, but he added, tasted delicious (the dessert, not the finger).

The most unusual and touching event that happened was one boy "had a baby." This is how he put it, but what he meant was his family is now the foster family for his cousin's 15 month-old son, and they hope to adopt him in the months to come. The little boy proclaimed, "Mmmmm, mmmm" in a very satisfied way whenever he ate something he thought was delicious.

High School students have diverse taste buds. Many votes for most delicious foods went to turkey, mashed potato, and stuffing. There were two votes for green been casserole from different classes and two for ham. One girl's favorite was an herbed turkey with cherries jule' (but she might have meant jubilee). A senior boy loved the flan. Some votes for sweet potato and one for sweet potato pie. Two votes for brownies with marshmallow. Fast food got two endorsements. One boy said the best thing he ate was Taco Bell. A boy two tables over said McDonald's. I don't know if this is an indictment of their taste buds or family cooking. Generally favorites weren't desserts which surprised me, maybe because I never met a sweet I didn't like.

Certainly not hard research to do any sort of study with, but sometimes it's just nice to ask a question and sit back and listen. What I hear often surprises me.

A Teacher's Lesson

Today started out pretty well but did not finish nearly as strong. By the time school was over I'd spilled tea all over my desk and the newly updated October dates on my desk calendar were blurry and damp and ruined. I tripped over something or other and misplaced the pages I needed for periods 4 and 5 to complete the agree-disagree statements we had left to debate. The late afternoon and evening proceeded about the same with a trip to Fed-ex to retrieve my daughter's Ipod that was not fixed in the least. The diagnosis fee if I send it back is $100. I had to deliver the bad news which made her very sad. I slopped enchilada sauce all over the counter, twice, and now I am supposed to be grading, but the efficiency tank is bone dry.

So I was ruminating on this no good, very bad day. For all that went wrong, two things I almost forgot went right.

First, last Friday I collected daily writing journals from my high school juniors. Now I am hefting bags of 57 journals with 20 entries each. Don't bother to argue that they don't need to be read. I create serious connections with my students in these journals as I ask them light questions like, how old is your little brother ? or more serious do you need help? Anyway, it takes some students a good while to warm up to writing every day. So today, their first day without journals for a week, two students said they already were missing writing in them. My teacher-heart grew a size.

Second, after school today the boy who previously has walked out in a disgusted huff, frustrated that the class doesn't always work the way he wants it to, hung around. He wanted to share a poem he'd written about waking up on a cold, dewy morning. Sharing anything you write is a risk. Sharing your poetry riskier still. Sharing your poetry with your teacher, an act of bravery. Still there was the poem written on lined paper with loopy f's I couldn't read, powerful words and artful imagery. Once he'd shared the one, he read me another. A boy with the brave heart of a poet, shared a bit of himself with me. That's a moment to savor. Tomorrow he says he will bring in a novella he's been working on. We talked about the process of writing, writer blocks and characters that don't know what to do next. I hope he will share more in the future.

I may have been physically clumsy today, but as a teacher, for at least a couple of shining moments, I had the grace of a dancer. Because in the best moments of a teacher's day, your students teach you as much, if not more, than you are teaching them. It isn't really about the stack of papers at the end of the day.