Former Kiddos!

I love being in touch with former students, but sometimes you have a moment when you realize just how much time has passed. I am in my 16th year of teaching, so I really should not be surprised, but I guess I still picture them as the age they were when I had them in my class.

Siblings Max W. and McKenzie W.

They're both college students now. Nice, hard working people.  I still remember taking my class on a field trip to see the Urbana High School play, and McKenzie insisting that she would fall asleep in her chair. She claimed she could never stay awake during movies or plays, and she was right. She kept dozing off during the production!

General Relief Society Meeting 2013

My favorite broadcast meeting of the year! My daughters, daughters-in-love, and friends far and near are watching, and there is such a feeling of unity and sisterhood.

Coupled with this, there was a conference and dinner this afternoon at church with about 200 women in attendance from across central Indiana. I was asked to teach a seminar on reverence, along with three other sisters who were teaching on other topics. (Lisa Connolly, Rachel Jensen, and Remi Winter-Evans.) Sisters in attendance rotated through the seminars over  a ninety minute period, so I taught my seminar three times. (I have a better idea as to how middle and high school teachers feel!)

Now Lisa and I are home and in our jammies, watching the broadcast from Salt Lake City. I thought I would jot some notes in my blog as I listen.

Linda K. Burton, General Relief Society President
Covenant keeping strengthens and protects. We also receive courage and strength to help carry others' burdens. "By this shall men know ye are my disciples, if ye have love one towards another." (John 13:35) "Start early and be steady in keeping covenants." (Henry B. Eyring)

Christ centered homes have power to prepare our children for making their own covenants and to go to the temple. Start with their baptismal covenants and the promises made during the Sacrament.

Keeping covenants brings true happiness. Ordinances and covenants are spiritual milestones in our lives when we make promises with God.

Keeping our covenants demonstrates our love for the Savior and our Father in Heaven. "For God so loves the world that He gave His only begotten Son." (John 3:16)
---
A missionary choir from the MTC is doing the music. As the camera does closeups on some of the women, I remember when Kyle was singing in the missionary choir at General Conference before he went to Chile. I hoped against hope that I would be able to spot him; when he got an extended close-up, I burst into tears as I looked at my son, so far away and on the errand of the Lord. I still feel very blessed by that brief glimpse of my son.

And speaking of glimpses, look who is in tonight's choir! 

Zina Whetten!  (Light blue shirt and glasses on right.) I missed it live, but Ashley sent me a text letting me know so I was able to grab it and post it here. 
---
Carole M. Stephens, 1st Counselor in General Relief Society Presidency
The gift of the Holy Ghost allows us to always have His spirit with us and helps us keep our covenants. As daughters of God who have made covenants, we are walking in the strait and narrow path. We are on different places on that path, but we are walking together and helping each other.

Think of someone who needs encouragement or help; ask Heavenly Father how you can help. He knows her and loves her; act on the promptings that you receive.

Linda S. Reeves, 2nd Counselor in General Relief Society Presidency
Story of a sister who was a new convert and was giving away all her sins to know the Savior. Finding joy as she did it. The sacrament is a renewal of our baptismal covenants and cleanses us every week through the blood of Christ and the Atonement. Look unto God and pray unto Him in all things and He will console you in all your afflictions. Good comes from adversity - think of the Provo Tabernacle which burned to the ground. Now it has been rebuilt as a temple in the heart of downtown. Out of the ashes, He does miracles. He has a plan for each of our lives.

President Thomas S. Monson, President of the Church
"Ye are the salt of the earth. Ye are the light of the world." (Matt. 5:13-16) Spoke of how much he misses his wife, Francis (who recently died) and how Relief Society helped her and them.

How do we keep our sights focused on the celestial world when we live in the telestial world? Replace fear with faith. Remember to pray. President Benson said that the counsel to pray was the most important advice he ever received and it anchored him. The Lord has assured us that He will be there to help if we but ask.

Read the scriptures. They point the way to eternal life and enrich our lives. We can find answers to our questions. We gain a sure testimony of our Heavenly Father, our Savior, Jesus Christ, and their love for us. He is always there. We do not walk alone.

Miss I/Mrs. I

Lisa is working on the 4th grade team at Hershey, and it has been a blast having her just around the corner from me. We see each other daily in the hallways or pop into the other's classroom just to say "hello."

Lisa's kiddos love her (as do the other 4th grade teachers and Mrs. Fields) and I enjoy watching her interact with her students. She is an outstanding teacher and I love to be walking down the hall and hear her voice float through her doorway as she teaches. She has beautiful classroom management skills and speaks to her students kindly, with humor, and without demeaning them.

The 4th graders are getting a HUGE kick out of having two people to call "Miss I." ("Mrs. I" usually gets shortened to "Miss I", even by my students; kids in a hurry have been know to call me "sigh.") They are intrigued by our relationship, and some have even asked if we are sisters. (Love those sweeties who ask that!)

Being together in the same school has allowed us to experience some pretty funny moments as the students figure us out. Here are a few.

Wednesday Lisa and I were standing together in the hallway while the students were changing classes for Math. Lisa got a bunch of "hellos" as the children paraded past. As I turned to continue down the hall, two girls greeted us both as they moved on to their next class. Walking behind them, I got to overhear their conversation.

Gesticulating wildly, one girl said, "Miss I or Mrs. I??" and she flung one hand to the right and then the other to the left. "I NEVER know what to call them - they're the same!!" And at that, she flung her hands up in exasperation while the other girl murmured her agreement.

(I smiled as I listened to their frustration and wanted to say, "I know the feeling - I have twins in my room this year!")

Lisa has beautiful, thick, curly hair and usually wears it curly. When she lost an earring the other day, one of her boys told her that she should "...check your hair. It's big and so I'll bet it's lost in there."

Lisa is still giggling about that one.

Once in a while, she straightens her hair, and yesterday was one of those days. My class was in the gym and seated for an assembly when Lisa walked in with the 4th graders. I saw my kiddos literally do double takes, and then several of them began loudly whispering to me, "Mrs. I! Mrs. I!!! There's Miss I and she has STRAIGHT HAIR!"

"Look at that! Miss I straightened her hair!"

"Mrs. I, did you know that Miss I straightened her hair??"

And the furor continued. All while my students are waving at Lisa, hoping she will acknowledge them with a wave back (which, to their delight, she did.)

And then there are the moments that touch your heart. Earlier this week, Lisa was asked to cover Linda Faust's class while Linda needed to be out of the room. She was only there briefly, but even in a short moment, you can still touch a child. Apparently, Lisa did just that.

I was standing in front of my classroom with my students lined up, waiting for the dismissal bell. Linda's class was in front of me, and the girl last in line suddenly turned toward me and shyly asked if I were Miss I's mother.

I confirmed that I was.

"She's the best teacher I have ever had," the girl smiled.

I think the smile I gave her back was one of those million watts ones.

"I Have a Fear..."

I have a new student this year with profound challenges. He really wants to do what's right, but undergoes an intense daily struggle to remain in his seat, complete his assignments, and act appropriately.

At the start of the school year, he sat at his desk with his head buried in his arms, telling me he had no friends, that no one liked him, and that he just wanted to be left alone.

That scared, isolated boy now has friends who include him, and he even smiles occasionally. He offers comments in class discussions and most of the time acts in an appropriate way.

I am so, so proud of him. Just yesterday the Music teacher commented on how much his behavior has improved since last year, and today the P.E. teacher made similar remarks.

He's come leaps and bounds, but he still has miles to go, especially when it comes to assignment completion. His difficulties maintaining his focus result in many incomplete assignments despite time in class to work and several days in which to complete them. His mother reports that they have to sit with him at home for hours in order for him to remain focused enough to do his homework.

Last night must've been a difficult evening because today I received an angry and impassioned email from her about the homework situation. I still feel pretty bruised from her words.

Given some time, I think her son will improve (although I think his issues are bigger than what I can do as a teacher, and need intervention from a doctor or a psychologist.) But I don't think he is going to get that time - his mother told me that she will not allow things to continue and is considering removing him from my class.

Setting the email aside, I called her son over to my desk, asking him to bring the incomplete homework that had so frustrated his mother to me so that we could look at it together.

"Sounds like last night was a bit tough, huh?" I said as he arrived.

My student nodded solemnly.

"I don't know why I can't get it done," he confessed. (And I am sure that's the truth - he is a very honest young man.)

"I believe you," I replied. "Let me look at this work and see if I can figure out a way to help you. Don't worry, we'll get this problem figured out."

And that's when he said the words that have weighed heavily on me all day.

"I have a fear," he began.

I looked up from the papers I'd been studying and asked him what he meant.

"Well, I have this fear," he repeated.  "I am afraid because my mom says that, if I can't get my work done, then I have to leave your class."

And then he looked straight into my eyes.

"I don't want to leave," he said with heartfelt solemnity.

Oh, my. My heart shattered and I felt close to tears.

I had to choose my words carefully. I wanted to reassure him, but I did not want to make false promises.

"I don't want you to leave, either," I said. "We're going to see what we can do so you can be with us. Hang in there, and for now, don't worry about finishing this work that was due today.  It'll be okay - I'll figure something out."

The student turned and headed back to his desk while I absorbed the significance of what he had just told me. I sat for several long moments, thinking about it and wondering how on earth I could do any more to help him improve.

I can only pray that his mother will not make any hasty decisions based on frustrations from a busy Wednesday night.

My Favorite Aunt

When I grow up, I want to be just like my Aunt Sissy.

That bar is pretty high. She is one of the most kind and loving people I know. Sissy, aka Wilma Jean, is my father's baby sister, born when he was 20. Despite their difference in age, they were very close, and when my grandfather died, my parents took Sissy aside and told her not to worry about her college education, that they would make sure she had the financial means to complete it.

(And she did - she has a Ph.D. I only found out when my dad passed away in 2009 that my parents had done that for her. Sissy told me about it as she reminisced about my father after his funeral.)

This weekend, her oldest daughter got married in Boston. We could not attend, unfortunately, so I was glad when Sissy sent some pictures. I absolutely love this one:

Sissy, Ned, Robert, Shannon, Jenny, and Elizabeth.

I love that Ned and Sissy are standing aside, holding hands and glowing as they look at their children on Jenny's wedding day.

Such a beautiful moment for a very special lady and her family.

A Tattoo Hug

You won't find me sporting a tattoo. Not something I will ever do - I think the human body is beautiful in and of itself and doesn't need adornment by ink.

But today I saw the first tattoo that has touched my heart and made me cry at its significance.

I had a meeting at Central Office this afternoon with other teachers who are serving on TSC's Science and Language Arts committees. Teachers from across TSC came, and I had the chance to catch up with several friends who teach in the GT department.

Including Kathy, a 4/5 teacher from Klondike.

We've been friends since we took a few classes together at Purdue as we worked on earning our Gifted and Talented endorsements. We're about the same age, teach the same subject, and are mothers and grandmothers - lots of things in common form the basis of our friendship.

But unlike me, Kathy is missing a son. Her son, Kory, was murdered in Lafayette a few years ago. It was a horrible situation (a fight over drugs and drug money) and made headlines for months.  Kathy endured miserable days and months through the discovery of her son's body, the arrest of those involved, and three subsequent trials. A long process and it nearly did Kathy in. Honestly, I don't know how she got through it all and kept the rest of her family together at the same time. She is one courageous lady.

I discovered today that Kathy is now inked. She has a fairly large tattoo on the inside of her left forearm. It's Kory's name surrounded by wings.

"See this?" she asked me, holding her arm out. "I got it so that, when I hug a family member, Kory is hugging them, too." And she demonstrated a hug, and how his name would press against a person.

Kathy continued.

"When I hold my grandbabies, Kory is holding them, too. Or hugging his sister. His dad." She looked me straight in the eyes and repeated, "When I hug someone, he hugs them."

Her eyes teared up, and mine spilled over.

I don't like ink, but I love the meaningful significance Kathy's tattoo holds for her and the comfort and peace it is bringing to her heart.

An African American Commentary

Champaign-Urbana is a lot more integrated than Lafayette - West Lafayette. My classrooms there were 25-33% African American, our neighborhoods were well integrated, and my children grew up with friends of many ethnicities and comfortable with black culture.

Recently, Chicago has had a lot of black-on-black violence and an extremely high murder rate. An African American mother of one of my former Yankee Ridge students who is also a good friend posted the following on her Facebook page.

I feel distraught over the violence in Chicago. Martin King fought for equality and gangs are killing over turf. It's so futile. (C)

Several of her black friends responded.

They need God ASAP. (T)

Need to bring the South up there. (O)

Hispanics have drama but they respect each other and blacks don't. Chicago has more blacks than any city in America by far, and I hate to admit it, but that's why it's so bad now. (T)

Just have family, God, and guns. (O)

An interesting peek into their reflections and thoughts.

Me and Annie Oakley

What girl from my generation didn't know who Annie Oakley was?

Back in the 1960s, I had a cowgirl outfit my mother made (complete with a felt hat) and a "pearl" handled cap gun. My sister, Leslie, had the same, and we spent hours together cantering around the yard on our pretend cowponies doing our cowgirl duties and shooting 'em up, just like Annie did.

So, when I was asked to loan some of my horse collection for a display with Annie Oakley's things, I wasn't going to decline!

They are currently included in an exhibit at the National Muzzle Loading Rifle Association's annual get together and competitive shoot along with artifacts loaned by the Annie Oakley Foundation and the Tippecanoe Historical Association.

(The common denominator? My sister, and fellow cowgirl, Leslie, who else?)

I have to admit, I am really excited that some of my horses are being included with an exhibit of Annie Oakley's things!

 One of the two glass display cases of my collection. (I am trying to get Leslie to take a photo of the second one.)

 Antique sidesaddles and rifles.

 Some of Annie Oakley's personal items.

 Literature on display.

Leslie and Rick walking through the display while a visitor examines rifles.

Past presidents of the Annie Oakley Foundation. You can see the second glass case with my horses in the background.

I also loaned Leslie some horses that I keep for my grandchildren to play with - pieces that are okay to be "loved hard" and can handle being galloped across the carpet. There is an area in the exhibit for children to do some hands on things, and they are being used in there. She called last night and said the display has been a big hit, and that the children especially are enjoying the horses.

Yep, me and Annie Oakley, together at last. And riding into the sunset after we've done our cowgirl duties.

Flying High with Mrs. I

Our class motto, coined by a student in the first Hershey GT class, is, "Flying high with Mrs. I." And "flying high" is part of the purpose of TSC's GT classrooms - they are to be a place where students can explore their academic potential without limits put on what is learned.

Sadly, that philosophy doesn't always carry on after the children leave the program and move on to middle school.

I got a letter today from JG, a former student. She had some information on Mark Twain she thought my current students might find interesting, and so she took the time to write it down and share it with me. She included a P.S. that has made me feel sad ever since I opened her letter. She wrote,

P.S. School isn't too hard. It is only kind of hard because the teachers actually GIVE YOU LIMITS on how much you can write.

Oh. My.

Limits?

Instead of wings to fly?

This gal is a writer. She loves to explore ideas and thoughts, and then reflect about them on paper. She's one of my former kiddos who could (and would) write thirty-plus page papers on the classic book she was reading, or several pages in her reflective journal when the assignment called for just a page.

She WRITES. And it is excellent, mature writing.

The philosophy behind TSC's Gifted/Talented/High Ability program is to let the kids go as far as they can by "taking the lid off and letting them pop." It is jaw dropping to see that unfold - the quality of the work is almost always sky high and the learning that occurs is broad, exhilarating, and retained. Watching the joy on the children's faces as they make connections, consider new perspectives, and wonder about new thoughts is priceless.

(I still remember JM saying to me after he wrote a forty page paper on War of the Worlds, "Mrs. I., it's H.G. Wells. How could I not write that much?")

I know teachers are busy, whether it's elementary, middle, or high school, and that grading long papers can be a bear. I get that - I've graded many of those long papers myself. And I know that sometimes students need to learn to pare their words down and be succinct. There's a place for that kind of writing in addition to those longer pieces.

But if the reason the writing is limited is because the teacher simply doesn't want to spend the time it takes to read and grade that work... that's a shame. And in doing a little digging this afternoon, I think that may be the case here with JG's writing asignments.

A gal so excited to write, so connected with what her teacher presented, and then wanting to reflect on it through her writing... being stifled because she writes more than the teacher feels she can grade.

I feel so sad for JG.

I even wonder if perhaps I did her and the other kiddos who write those behemoth papers a disservice. They come so far in their joy of exploring their world through the written word, only to have to rein it back in and write more pedantically and certainly with less reflection and thought after leaving the high ability class. That high level of writing they achieved is higher than what their future teachers want, and so they are asked to limit what they write.

Should I change? Should I not "take the lid off and let them pop?"

I have wrestled with that before (and writing is not the only subject in which I hear former kiddos are disappointed and have to tamp down what they can do.) But I always come back to what the purpose of my classroom is - to let those highly able kids reach toward their potential. To not limit them, but to let them soar.

And I guess that as long as I do that, then I have served them well. Even if they are disappointed after they move on.

What Was Missed

Today I was grading assignments, planning next week's lessons, and entering grades into the electronic gradebook. As I scanned through each screen to check my work, I noticed a lot of blank spots - places where  my student who has spent the week at Disney World has no grades entered.

What has she missed while on vacation?

Three tests (Math, Vocabulary, and Spelling.)

One quiz (Science.)

Five Math assignments.

Two Reading assignments.

Two Science assignments.

Three Social Studies assignments.

That's a total of SIXTEEN assignments.

And these are just the written assignments. So much more happens during the school day that is not written work and simply cannot be made up. But the written work alone is going to be a bear for her to make up, and for me to grade and enter into the gradebook. Plus, I am going to have to give up at least one lunch time in order to administer those tests; more likely two.

In addition, I had thirteen emails from her mother about this trip that I had to respond to along with an early morning meeting before school as the mom was concerned about the trip impacting her daughter's grades. She wanted assurances from me that it would not; assurances I could not give. Make no mistake, missing a week of school affects those grades.

::sigh::

I really wish that, when I tell parents BEFORE they place their child in the Gifted program that vacations during the school year negatively impact learning, they'd listen and not think they are the exception and then expect me to make sure their child stays on track.

So, four weeks into the school year and already one child has gone on vacation. I wonder how many more times this year I will have to go through this?

Friday Night Frenzy!!

It's football season, and that means Craig and I are following the West Lafayette football team on Friday nights. This season Lisa is joining us, which makes it even more fun!

We always look for unusual, "where the locals go" places to eat when we travel. Tonight we scored big in Fowler.

 The 100 Mile Rib and Chop House!

It'a 100 miles from Indianapolis and 100 miles from Chicago, hence the name.

The food was delicious - Lisa and I had the country fried steak while Craig had a prime rib sandwich. And see that unusual ball of food?

It's hash brown potatoes with cheese in the middle, rolled into a ball, coated with a batter, and baked. So, so good! The service was fast and friendly, and as we chatted with our server, we discovered that she has a day job at Green Tree on Kalberer Road by us. Small world sometimes!

After dinner we hopped back into the car and drove to Benton Central High School for the game.

Notice anything unusual about this picture? Look at the upper left and right hand corners.

 The school and football field are in the middle of a wind farm!

 Turbines surround the school and spread out through the fields as far as we could see.

 After record breaking heat earlier this week, it was quite chilly today. We needed jackets and blankets to keep warm. Craig and Lisa watched the game...

... while I graded papers. It was very windy and I nearly lost one student's test to a gust of wind. Wonder how I would've explained that on Monday morning??

 The game was a West Side blow out. We left during the third quarter when the score was 42-7.

One last picture. 

This girl was sitting in the bleachers below us, and when I saw the back of her sweatshirt, I had to take a photo of it.

The Events of September 11

September 11, 2001. One of the worst days of my life, and a day that changed the world. Certainly the most difficult teaching day in my career. How do you tell a group of innocent 5th graders that the world as they know it just changed and that 3000 people have died in a horrible, horrible way?

They knew something was up, there was a pall over the school, and teachers were speaking in hushed, worried voices and bustling in and out of each other's classrooms with updates...

An awful, awful day.

Today I posted the following on Facebook. It was interesting to see the number of former students who liked it, including a few who were in that class and are now all grown up.

Twelve years ago today, two students arrived at school and asked if I'd heard a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Two hours later, I knew this was a historic day and was wondering what on earth to tell my students, all of whom knew something was going on. The hardest teaching day in my entire career.

And this is the day that my boys state is the pivotal day of their youth. So glad that the teachers/staff of YR were there to help them through that event.
Susan Ferguson

I got home from teaching seminary, sat in my office to tell Wayne about class, the TV was on and I said, "Look at that! Someone lost control of a plane and crashed into a building." You know the shock we felt as we watched live coverage and saw a second plane do the same thing. The world changed for me that day.
Cristine Holt

Agree. Was teaching 2nd there at Hershey. It was a mind-numbing day.
Eve Reiss

I was on Central Time in MC, and a kdg. teacher said a plane had hit one of the WTC towers. My first thought was, "Seriously, how could a small plane not see that big building?" I gave no thought to terrorism at first. Now that is one of the first thoughts I go to when terrible things happen....wonder if it's terrorism. Innocence lost, even at age 32.
Sarah W.

Happy Birthday, Braden!

Look who's turning six today!!

Happy Birthday, Braden! I love you!!

Ten Things I'd Like To Say (But Won't)

I can roll with most things that come into my classroom (Tony Bennett and Mitch Daniels excepted), but if you really want to tick off a teacher, and me in particular, send an email glibly announcing that your child is going to be out of school for a week-long vacation and that you "want all the work they will miss" before leaving.

I have a student and her family heading to Disney World for a family vacation next week. The parents have apologized and said they knew this was a bad idea, but ...

(Um, YES. It is. No ifs, ands, or buts!!)

And, they expect me to provide that week's supply of work so their child "keeps up."

I wish I had the courage to actually say the following when parents do this. It happens every year, usually a couple of times. (And this is a conglomeration of sixteen years of vacation requests; not all of this applies to this particular situation.)

#1) Your choice to vacation during the school year should not cause me extra work. Preparing and gathering assignments, then answering your frantic emails and phone calls because your child missed the teaching part of the lesson and doesn't have the background information to know what the worksheet is talking about, is not something you should be asking me to do.

#2) I plan on Saturdays. Next week's work will be ready on the Monday following that Saturday. No, I will not stay late on Thursday and plan the coming week so that you can have all the child's work to take on the trip, even if it is for the lofty goal of "... just trying to keep up with her work so she doesn't fall behind." If you're worried about that (and you should be) STAY HOME during the school year.

#3) No, I will not meet privately with you after school before you leave in order to give your child personal directions on all her work. I will teach the subject once to the class; I am not privately tutoring your child for free just because Disney World is cheaper and less crowded during the school year.

#4) By the same token, neither will I meet privately with you and your child when you get back and "catch her up on what she missed." I cannot recreate all the discussions and lessons just for her, nor do I have the time to do so. (Do you REALLY think I can cram a week's worth of lessons into an hour after school? Seriously??)

#5) No, I won't scan in the homework daily and send it to you. (See #1.)  Your child can make it up when she returns, and yes, you're right, she will probably be lost in a lot of things because my lessons build on the previous ones and she'll have missed those. That's why I stressed in May at the parent meeting that vacations during the school year should not be taken as it is VERY HARD to catch up.

#6) Yes, I am aware your child's grades will probably drop as a result of her missing a week of school. That's why I said what I said in May... Remember? So why does that surprise you?

#7) While sending homework home with another student so that their family can scan it and send it on to you may sound like a good idea to you, it does not to me. Why? Personal experience. If that child fails to get it home, or her family fails to scan it, or if it gets lost, then I get emails and phone calls, requests for replacement papers, etc. I haven't got the time for that. Trust me; I've tried this. And it was the very family you want to use who let me down when I did. That homework did not get where it needed to go and I spent a LOT of time preparing replacement work. I am not willing to do that again! Ever!

#8) So it's now Saturday, you're leaving in a few hours, and you have a couple of questions about the homework that I was actually able to gather and send? Sorry, I am not available. (See #3 and private tutoring. Oh, and #1, too.) During the week I go to Hershey early in the morning and frequently work late, often putting in ten and even eleven hour days. I am not available on weekends. It will just have to wait.

#9) Why did I plan that really cool Science experiment while you were gone? Because that's when it fit into the curriculum. Yes, it's a shame she missed it because we had a fabulous learning experience, but I cannot make the other twenty-eight students' learning wait while you play at the house of Mickey Mouse. And no, it can't be made up. I will not gather the materials and supervise her during my lunch so she can have the learning experience, too. Some missed assignments simply cannot be made up.

#10) Yes, I know Wordly Wise is THE toughest assignment we do on a regular basis. I am sorry she was not here for the very first time we did it - it is the start of the school year and I have been gradually getting the class up to our usual pace. Wordly Wise is always the last thing I add in. I know it's complicated to do, but that's why I save it - there are so many other things for the new multiagers to adjust to in my classroom that I let them settle in before assigning this whopper. No, I will not change the way I weight this assignment so that her grades do not take such a hit. If I might remind you (again), I told you not to vacay during school and that if you did, it would be a problem. I was upfront about that. In May. BEFORE you agreed to place your child in the Gifted program.

You knew, so why do you expect ME to change, adjust, or to pay the price??

Maybe my next rant will be about collecting and grading all that makeup work, following up to make sure it got done, and giving missed Spelling and Vocabulary tests and a Science quiz during my lunch breaks.

Because that, too, is a bear and an aggravation.

Sigh.

Ice Melt Race

We're studying the concepts of heat and heat transfer in Science, and yesterday we had a "race" to see who could melt two ice cubes the fastest. While it was a legitimate Science experiment, complete with lab sheets, documentation of methods, and reflections, it was also a LOT of fun.

Check out the look on JB's face.

His ice cubes are tucked in the crook of his neck.

JB didn't melt his cubes the fastest, but I think he gets the prize for the winningest smile.

Next up? The Ice Preservation Race - the opposite of the Ice Melt Race. The children are going to learn about insulation and how it prevents heat transfer, and then design something to hold their ice cubes and keep them from melting.

"I Love to See the Temple"

My children grew up singing the Primary song, I Love to see the Temple.

I love to see the temple,

I'm going there some day,

To feel the Holy Spirit,

To listen and to pray.

For the temple is a house of God,

A place of love and beauty.

I'll prepare myself while I am young;

That is my sacred duty.

Beautiful! I love that song, and I always loved hearing my kids sing it. So, when Jessica posted this picture on her blog...

... my heart just about burst.

Seeing my daughter, with her husband (and baby bump; the next generation!) in front of the temple where Craig and I were married means a great deal to me.

I "love to see the temple," and I am glad my children do, too.

Happy Birthday, Curt!!

This guy is turning 28 tomorrow!!!

Happy Birthday to my fifth-born! I love you!

"We're a Family Here"

Shortly after lunch I was looking through the day's mail when I realized that the paper I was reading had a "hole" in it - a spot where I could not read anything. It looked watery, as though I were looking at the page through a window with rain running down it.

I knew what that meant.

Migraine.

Quickly I grabbed some Tylenol, hoping it would catch the migraine before the kids returned from lunch recess.

No such luck. When they came in ten minutes later, I still could not see. (Ever try to take attendance when you are essentially blind?) Once the kids were there, my inability to see became a safety issue - I was responsible for the kids' welfare; being unable to see those children was a big problem.

Reluctantly I called the office. Jackie picked up, and not wanting to scare the children, I mumbled, "I need help. I can't see."

Jackie was in my room in a flash with the nurse in tow. Flipping lights off and checking in the kids, she took my class under her wing while the nurse pulled out a blood pressure cuff.

"Being unable to see and with the 'other thing' you deal with, I want to make sure you are okay," she said quietly so the students would not overhear.

My brain tumor. The office knows about it, just in case, although I hardly ever think about it. It is in my file that, if I have certain problems, it is something to be concerned about, and I realized that being unable to see had probably triggered that alert.

"I am sure it's just a migraine," I countered. "I sometimes lose my vision with them, so I think that's what this is."

"Is your blood pressure always this high?" she replied as she removed the cuff from around my arm, and I was shocked as I squinted at the numbers she wrote on a post-it pad on my desk.

Gulp.

I had never had blood pressure that high in my LIFE.

The nurse spoke under her breath to me so the kids could not hear. "I think you should go home. You need to call your doctor and let him know about this. Or, I will call the doctor for you. But you need to make him aware that you have had a loss of vision coupled with high blood pressure and a headache."

Between Jackie and the nurse, a sub was called and I was relieved of my afternoon teaching duties. Linda also came in and told me that Lisa, who would finish teaching a math class in 15 minutes, would drive me home.

At that I really protested. Lisa has no sick days, and I did not want her losing hours because of me.

Linda replied, "That will not be a problem. We will take care of that. " And then the three of them said simultaneously, "We're a family here."

(Am I blessed or what to work with such caring people?)

On the way home, I did call my doctor, more because I had said I would than because I thought there was a serious issue going on. To my surprise, Lisa, his nurse, confirmed that I absolutely needed to see him and told me that the Hershey staff had not overreacted. In fact, Lisa was going to send me to Urgent Care since Dr. Morris was gone, but agreed to let me come see him tomorrow if I promised to go to the ER if I became worse.

I promised, made an appointment for tomorrow, and came home and went to bed.

I am fortunate to have such caring people around me.

That Good, Ol' Hoosier Hospitality

When Cole lived with us here in Indiana after his mission, he was quite taken aback by the locals. What to us seems like friendly interest, seemed to him to be nosiness. "I go to the grocery and the checkout lady wants to know where I am from, if I am a student, what I am studying, etc. They all want to know my business, everywhere I go!" he said to me once.

And he's right. Most people will hold a conversation with you or smile and say hello. Some even offer to help.

(A quick example: I was downtown alone once after 5:00 PM and the streets were pretty deserted. I was looking for a ballet theater box office and could not find it. Observing me walk around, frowning at a note in my hand and then looking up at buildings, was a heavily tattooed young man with a multitude of body piercings. I was keeping an eye on him, just in case he proved threatening.

"You look lost," he called over to me. "Can I help you find something?"

When I told him (a bit warily) what I was looking for, he pointed down the street to a small doorway and told me he thought that that was where I was trying to go, then smiled and waved when I thanked him. He was correct, and I found the ballet theater box office.)

Friday evening I was leaving St. Elizabeth East after a visit with Craig's mother who is currently a patient there. As I walked along the sidewalk, an ambulance came screaming up to the emergency wing. I watched its approach. A woman was walking toward me, heading into the hospital.

Suddenly she began blowing kisses to me!

"One of yours?" she queried. Then, before I could respond, she said, "I do hope your loved one is okay."

Well.

No, the patient in the ambulance is not anyone I know, and why she thought that is a mystery, unless she was watching me watch it and jumped to an incorrect conclusion.

Nonetheless, it was VERY kind (if a bit of an unusual manner) for her to express her concern and caring.

"No, no one I know, but I'll keep them in my prayers," I replied.

She smiled and said she'd do the same, then continued walking up to the visitors' entrance.

Hoosier Hospitality!

A Choice and a Decision

Those who know me well, know I love horses. (Well, actually, I guess you really don't have to know me well to know that. Small things like my clothing, jewelry choices, etc. tend to give it away.)

Most people don't know, though, that I collect horse figurines and have a huge collection. You might get a hint if you walk into my home and see the china cupboard in the living room full of some of my most fragile pieces, but if you haven't been upstairs and seen my office, well...

Here's a peek.

 Here's one wall.

 And another along with some ribbons my collection has won.

The entire room is like this, and truth be told, the closet has a couple of storage boxes full of even more pieces.

I have been collecting since 1962 when Santa brought me a little brown china horse (aptly named Brownie and, although he has been broken and reglued many times, he is included with my best pieces in the china cabinet.)

But just like any hobby or outside interest a person might have, this hobby comes with choices. In my case it's along the lines of willingness to pay a certain price for a piece I do not have. While I have many, many hard to find and valuable pieces, I really do not like to pay collectors' prices for them. I keep in mind that this is my hobby and as such must be kept reasonable and realistic.

So, I search out antique and second hand shops, and I find a surprising number of pieces for only a couple of dollars. I do pretty well. In 2012 I went to Kentucky and showed at the largest china show in the world (my table-neighbor was from Puerto Rico) and won Reserve Grand Champion of the Americanware show with a piece I had found at a seedy auction for $4. It is worth far more that, but I would never, ever pay what it is worth just so I could put it in my collection.

But recently I had another decision to make, one not made on money but on my principles.

In August just before school started, Lisa (who also loves to go antiquing) and I drove down to Lebanon - me in search of HSOs (horse shaped objects) as we laughingly call them, while she was looking for blue china and old Christmas ornaments.

To my surprise, I found not one but TWO of the rare Hartland Clydesdales. (I may or may not have let out an audible gasp.)

Hartland was a small company that produced HSOs in the 1950s and 1960s. And they also produced baseball memorabilia, nativity sets, and advertising pieces, with some of their horses being used in those.

I have a knock-off Hartland Clydesdale - I thought it was the real deal, but it is not. It is a very good fake. (Another reason why my policy of buying pieces cheaply is a good one. Sometimes I get fooled.)

 My knock-off Hartland Clydesdale.

These were the real deal. I could tell because Hartland had been contracted by Budweiser to use some of the Clydesdales in their beer advertisements and these two were still in the original advertising displays.

 Real Hartland Clydesdale #1.

Real Hartland Clydesdale #2.

I really wanted one of those horses. And, in their advertisement boxes, they were very, very valuable to collectors. I could keep one and sell the other, making enough to cover the cost of mine.

But... I don't drink. I'm a Mormon and avoid alcohol. The thought of purchasing something with beer advertisements all over it made me very, very uncomfortable.

I had to decide where I would draw the line.

That was easy. 

Why?

Because I drew that line years ago.

No piece for my collection, no matter how valuable, is worth lowering my principles or losing my integrity.

I left both pieces behind.