New Post

New blog.  New post. Go to it now now. (No, that’s not a typo.  Go see!) 

Don’t forget!

I have a new blog.  With new posts.  And a cute background.  And music.

Click here to see.  (Oh…please change the address on your blogroll if you have one!)

New Blog

I have a new blog!  I got a little frustrated with WordPress this week because it’s virtually impossible to embed anything to the main blog page (or at least I couldn’t figure out how).   However, I found that it was relatively simple to transfer my entire blog to Blogspot, so I’m really excited that I didn’t lose any of my content.  My blog is now located at http://www.learning-2-walk.blogspot.com/.   Check it out!

How many licks does it take…

…to get to the bubble gum center of a Ninja Turtle ice cream bar?

Not sure, but today was a gorgeous day to head to the park with two of my friends and their sweet babies. I couldn’t resist snapping a shot of little Alex and his ingenious way of eating his ice cream without getting the green sherbert on his hands. 

Look ma, no hands!

Happy anniversary, Mema and Papa!

My grandparents’ 58th wedding anniversary is today.

Aren't they cute?

Still holding hands after all these years

I love my grandparents for many reasons, but perhaps what I admire most about them is their love and devotion to one another.  My grandfather affectionately refers to his bride as “Sapphire” because she is his “precious jewel.”  My grandmother loves to share her memories of how they fell in love.  Several years ago, I included their story in a family history paper for one of my classes at Auburn.  This was written in May 2000 just after their 49th anniversary:

My grandmother attended college at Troy State, and the handsome young man awaiting her at the registration desk in 1948 was to be the man with whom she would fall in love for a lifetime.  She thought he was the “cutest thing she had seen all day,” and she could hardly keep her eyes off him.  He must have noticed her also because he kept coming back to ask her questions.  My grandmother tried so hard not to like Tom Nichols because his “rumpled, boyish tendencies” seemed to contradict her “Christian standards” for her future mate.  However, she could never escape him because they had speech class and band together.  Eventually she became so infatuated that she would listen to hear the sound of his whistling as he walked to band, and then she would run down three flights of stairs from her dorm room so that they just happened to cross paths on the way.  They began sitting together in class and going to the library to study on the weeknights.  On special weekends they saw a movie, but because my grandfather had little money at the time, my grandmother was often happy just to sit and talk with him.  My grandmother’s dorm had a curfew of ten P.M. on the weeknights and eleven P.M. on weekends, and my grandparents would stand outside under the pecan trees until the moment the dorm mother came to lock the door.  Needless to say, they were just one couple out of many that were stalling the end of a date.  Each couple had a tree to stand under, and when they saw the dorm mother coming, there was a “mass run to the door,” while the dorm mother grinned and waited until all the girls filed through.  While preparing for bed, my grandmother always made sure to keep one hand away from soap and water so that she could smell my grandfather’s cologne on her hand as she drifted off to dream of him.  Those butterflies that began fifty-two years ago are still in flight in each of them today.  My grandmother shared her feelings on their recent wedding anniversary when she said, “And I still get a thrill when I see him from a distance.”

Happy anniversary, Mema and Papa!  Your marriage is an example of Biblical love and commitment.  I hope you have a wonderful day!  I love you!

Ode to My Cowboy Boots

We’ve been learning about different types of poetry in my classroom over the past few weeks, and for one assignment, I asked my students to write an ode celebrating one of their favorite things.  Of course, I had to write one of my own to share with them.  Without further ado, I present…”Ode to My Cowboy Boots.”  (Yes, I realize I’m a nerd.)

“Ode to My Cowboy Boots”

 

I could wear them,

but I couldn’t rock them.

That’s what I said

laughing outside at Doodle’s

with two of my favorite friends.

We were admiring

a kickin’ pair of

cowboy boots.

 

I wore mine

for the first time

with my favorite fall dress,

shamrock green cotton,

three-quarter-length sleeves.

And boots.

I felt a little silly.

 

Second try

was at a baby shower

for my cousin and his wife.

Nice boots,

he said.

Thanks,

I smiled.

 

Before long

they went with

everything.

 

They’ve been

toasted

by sparks at bonfires,

dotted

by dripped egg whites

at sleepover breakfasts, and

scuffed

by trips to the lake.

My little walking memory keepers.

 

Strangers have said to me

(in my boots),

Has anyone ever told you

that you look just like

the lead singer of

Sugarland?

Me?  A rock star?!

It must be the boots.

 

So now I know.

I don’t just wear them.

I rock them.

I Had It All Backwards

It’s funny how we approach situations thinking that we can make a difference in another person’s life, only to find that we are the ones changed.  If you had asked me four years ago why I wanted to be a teacher, I would have proudly replied, “I want to make a difference in the lives of children.”  Now I realize that I am the one more focused on the chores and not the children, the rules and not the relationships, the learning and not the love.  It is the children who change me.

Last Monday, one of my dance team girls came down to my classroom bursting with excitement.  “At church yesterday, the sermon was about our dance team verse!” she exclaimed as she handed me a copy of her outline.  There at the top of her sermon notes was the verse we had selected during the summer to be our team verse:

“Train yourself to be godly.  For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”  1 Timothy 4:8b

Later at practice that afternoon, I had the privilege of listening to this precious young lady share the major points from the sermon to the entire team. 

My girls amaze me.  They remind me to start practice with prayer because I am the one who most often forgets.  I’ve listened to them pray for one another with sincerity and faith.  I’ve watched them cry on each other’s shoulders after praying for family members with serious illnesses.   I’ve watched them break out of their comfort zones and get to know new friends because they want the team to be a family and not a group of smaller cliques.  I’ve watched and listened as they have led.  I am so blessed to have the privilege of watching.

Thanks, girls.  I love you.

Living in a Polygag???

This has to be one of my favorite commercials, probably because we can all relate.  A few of my favorite musical misunderstandings:

• “There might be a little dust on the Bible, but don’t let it fool ya about what’s inside.”  ~Beth, in elementary school  (Close, except the dust isn’t on the Bible; it’s on the bottle.  It makes sense though, coming from a sweet little Baptist girl.)
• “There’s a bathroom on the right.”  ~Leslie  (Nope, there’s actually a bad moon on the rise.)
• “It’s too late to fully jive.” ~Space (Or, too late to apologize, but whatever.)

About a year ago, I was driving home from an English workshop with two of my favorite coworkers.  Our brains had all but turned to mush thanks to the scintillating discussions that had just taken place.  Needless to say, we were in desperate need of some karaoke for the drive home.  We plugged in my I-Pod and didn’t waste any time locating the ultimate drama queen song. 

Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit lonely cuz you’re never coming ’round…

We were doing pretty well until the end of the chorus.

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m always in the dark.  We’re living in a paosdfiupa and galdfjl oadffa sllmlfjaf…  

Huh?!?!  Over and over we listened to it, trying to figure out what in the world Bonnie is lamenting about!  The best we could come up with was “living in a polygag and giving up smart.”  Probably not.

Of course, by the time we all got home, it was forgotten…until this weekend.  Again I was riding in the car, this time with a different friend.  We had just left an adventure-filled outing to the oh-so-chic $1 theater and needed to belt Bonnie Tyler to forget about the fact that we were very lucky not to have  been abducted. 

Anyway, we were back to square one on the lyrics.  When in doubt, google it.  Drum roll, please…

We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks.

Hmm…sounds like she doesn’t really need him tonight.  Sounds like she better run, and fast. 

At any rate, the next time I’m in the car, I will be able to make the dogs howl with full confidence that at least my lyrics are correct.

I REALLY NEED YOU TONIGHT!  FOREVER’S GONNA START TONIGHT.  Forever’s gonna start to…

Once upon a time, I was falling in love…

Quirks

Alright, Kate, I will participate…but only if you’ll promise to add your growing collection of aquatic equipment to your own list.

 

I’m supposed to make a list of six of my “unspectacular” quirks (not that I’m quirky or anything).  Here goes…

 

1. I am addicted to Milo’s.  Especially after an extremely stressful day at work.  (Not so much in the summer time…thank goodness for that with swimsuit season and all.)  So addicted, in fact, that I can quote to you the exact amounts of their most recent price increases to my usual order (hamburger combo, just sauce, sweet tea to drink, and a to-go sauce please).  About a year ago, my “usual” only cost $4.89.  Then it was $5.11.  Now they want me to pay $5.38! 

 

Ridiculous, but oh, so worth it. 

 

2. I rub my nose up and down when I’m tired.  I don’t even realize I do this, but I must do it ALL the time because EVERYONE tells me…friends, family, even my students!  My nose rubbing apparently increases in frequency and speed the more sleepy I become.  When I was little, my dad told tell me that I would look like Miss Piggy if I didn’t stop.  While I managed to escape the Miss Piggy fate, I do have a very distinct crease across the center of my nose. 

 

3. Once I am really into a book, I am incapable of doing anything else until I finish reading it.  I’m not exaggerating.  This is why I can only read books over the holidays and during the summer (and the occasional non-busy weekend).  I have to know what happens, even if it means staying up all night to finish.  This can get a little annoying on beach trips, especially for normal people who are able to shift from reading-on-the-beach mode to socializing-in-the condo mode.  I’m not so good at that.

 

4.  I love to dance, but only if it’s choreographed.  Cannot, cannot, CANNOT freestyle.  I mean I won’t even try.  Put me in any situation involving freestyle dancing, and I will stand completely motionless like a moron.  Well, maybe not completely motionless.  You might also notice me looking frantically around the room, wondering if anyone is…shudder…watching.  Kind of ironic for the girl who once included swing dancing on her list of top five marriage requirements.  (It’s still in my top ten.)

 

5. I overuse infinitives.  Only an English teacher would notice this.  I’m working on it though.  I’ve only used nine in this post so far.  In case you are wondering what an infinitive is (or maybe thinking the fact that I’m talking about them is another quirk), an infinitive is a verbal made up of the word “to” plus a verb.  (For example, I need to go to bed.  “To go” is an infinitive while “to bed” is a prepositional phrase.)  I also overuse parentheses (eight sets so far, including this one) and ellipses…

 

6.  I make huge messes whenever I try to cook.  Don’t get me wrong; it usually tastes good.  The clean-up process is a beast though.  I’m talking flour all over the floor, noodles in my hair, candy sprinkles between the appliances, batter splattered on the wall kind of disasters.  Which reminds me…I’ve been meaning to post an article about my domestic quirkiness that I’m considering sending to a publisher.  I need a little assistance with the revision process.  That will have to be my next post.

I’m supposed to be tagging six people with the “Quirky Game,” but I’m breaking the rules.  I like getting random forwards and reading other peoples’ responses, but I hate passing them along.  I guess that’s my seventh quirk.  Sorry, Kate. 

 

Final infinitive count: 15

Final parentheses count: 8

Final ellipses count: 7

Final nose rub count: no clue

Tough Words

I’m so thankful that my pastor is not afraid to preach the hard-to-swallow truths in scripture.  I urge you to listen for yourself.  I promise you will be challenged and encouraged to know Him more deeply and to follow Him more devotedly.

What the Gospel Demands, David Platt (The Church at Brook Hills)