Merry Christmas, Friends!

                    

                                                 ‘Tis the Season

“I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when I come to die, discover that I had not lived.”
- Thoreau

If you have been following me on one of five social websites, here is another medium to let you know I'm doing well this year. I considered sending a photo of me alone by the Christmas tree, but that doesn’t sum up what God has done this year.

Instead I have included a photo with my two roommates who both teach elementary, Shelley fifth grade and Alison first. They look and act similarly as you can see. Both are the third child with two much older brothers, and both love the Hallmark Channel, which I am still getting used to*. We moved in to Shelley's house in August. She's the real adult who organizes bills and makes lists of chores to do, I'm an adult by way of being twenty-seven, and Alison is the baby at twenty-two and definitely the loudest. We enjoy watching New Girl and eating delicious Sunday dinners with Shelley's parents.

Only a few days after New Years the storms began, propelling snow days and time to pick up old hobbies. Consider my hands equity. I crocheted Cabbage Patch Kid wigs, mittens of equal size, headbands, scarves, flippy mittens, bearded hats, etc. You name it, I could at least attempt to make it. I also baked for neighbors in my apartment complex to be more social and to clarify that we were all still alive. Just as Thoreau learned much while he traversed alone by a pond, I feel it important to share lessons that I have learned through the year. Lesson: seek whatever motivates you to change out of sweatpants.

Enthused to retreat from the long winter, I spent spring break with Jim and Cherie Rozendal in Florida, which included quiet mornings on the beach and visiting Jim at his new school. For those who don't know, I lived with them for three years in DeMotte. I think I cried when my flight took off for home again but was appeased by an elderly woman wearing a unicolor jumpsuit and satin scarf: her favorite literature were horror novels. “When you’re eighty,” she said, “something has to thrill you.” Lesson: become an 80-year-old woman who shocks people.

I chaperoned the juniors from Covenant on a service week to Kentucky. There we cleaned and repainted a house among a gamut of other services. This is an interesting time for teachers and students because we all wear jeans and we learn how each other operate, like which people have a tough work ethic and which are street savvy. For instance, I’m a clumsy person, but that never hurt anyone else until I nearly backed five students off a cliff in a fifteen passenger van. All were silent until one casually warned me we were six inches from our death. Lesson for students: if a teacher trips over desks in the classroom, she likely stumbles upon adventure elsewhere.

In May my first freshmen class graduated, which means I have begun my years of feeling old. After a series of sentimental quiet moments and after my co-worker Andrew Dunham* expressed how he had also once "had a moment," I realized that I'll always have to say goodbye to them. An optimist would say “I’ll always get to say hello.” Or would an optimist say the former? Lesson: “Offer your bodies as living sacrifices...If a man’s gift is teaching, let him teach.”

My apartment lease came up in May, so Irv and Liz Dorn invited me to live with them for the summer before I moved in with Shelley. That wasn't a hard choice. Great company, a beautiful sunroom, AND a pool? I did not refuse. Liz and I sipped coffee and conversed mid-mornings, and Irv invited me to ride on their motorcycles twice, which is the most thrilling thing. When they vacated I took care of the house and their cat BK, whom I love*. Lesson: God uses people as pillars of service.

Tyrel and Kearsen flew to Indiana in July. Set to prove it has attractions, I drove them to Lake Michigan and we spent an evening touring Chicago, eating Pop Rocks, and looking out from the Willis Tower at night. Lesson: in the midst of good company, one could enjoy any place.

In August Kearsen, my niece Brinley, and I hiked at Palisades. B and I also spent mornings playing wedding with her Disney dolls. Cinderella and Belle were wed multiple times. On that same vacation, my friends Elizabeth and Josh married. As part of the bridal party I feel it my duty to remain a keen observer of this union. Happily I report that since being married, her Twitter has barely changed proving that one does remain witty in marriage. Lesson: in the best moments, time eludes us.

I did not coach volleyball this Fall, and that is fine because teaching English is busy enough. I did, however, have time to prepare a sectional for the Christian Educators Association about blogging in the classroom. Recently, I have resumed crocheting. Two days ago I made a sweater for a snake named Monty for Covenant's annual ugly Christmas sweater day. All my family have requested crocheted things this year, so arthritis may kick in early. Lesson: “Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! Let your affairs be as two or three” (Thoreau).

I look onward to Christmas with the Boman family and am thankful they will be there at the close of this year. I pray that you and your kin are well and that you serve God right where you are. Christ’s blessings are profound, so reflect on your year with thanksgiving in your hearts and praise to Him who was and is and is to come. Lesson: If you can, turn a Christmas tree selfie into an 'ussie'.

With love,

               Laurissa

“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
-Luke 2:11

_____________________________________________________________________________________
*Hallmark - ...except that one is indistinguishable from the next.
*Dunham - co-worker - a few years my senior. He claims to be an effective mentor. I'll be kicking myself for proving him right this time. Beware. His ego is bound to nearly triple.
*BK - ...selectively

Questions

Mom told me a while ago that I'm quite good at asking people questions. Call me a cryptic child, but I wouldn't just offer information when someone asked, "how was your day?" Like most children, I'm sure. But ask me the right question and I could give an answer that satisfied well enough. "Does Mr. C challenge you in reading?" Hmmm. I'd have to think a while, but that's always the first step to a good reply. 

I think it was stitched in me before time began. "You, daughter, will ask questions."

And I did: "Hey there, Don. How fast can your wheelchair go? When did you move into the retirement home? What if you had a standing wheel chair? Would you like that better?" I was very young when I asked a middle-aged man Don these questions and it would lead to a walk all over Churchill, Montana, and him explaining how he got in that motorcycle accident in the 70s.

And questions would lead to knowing every story about my dad and grandmother.

And to knowing that my mom had gone on 15 - 20 dates in high school, which I - a sophomore who had no idea what a date even felt like - concluded that times have just changed. I couldn't handle that many dates.

And English-teacher-turned-potato-farmer's wife knowing as easily how to ask me questions as we walked through spud fields picking out bad plants. And how that led to wondering exactly how God chose to create the world and exactly how she ended up on a potato farm.

And long conversations with my great grandmother before she died. She related what it was like in the early 30s, during the depression to move away to take care of a family and clean for them and to come back with a husband, a man orphaned as a child and very much needing a home and a family.

I have to be careful when I ask questions, however, because my adult self is not as earnest as my child self. To ask and already think you know the answer is manipulative. So I try to ask out of true curiosity, and of course to get to know people better.

Make 'Em Laugh

The year was 1994. I sat with my class in the school library while our librarian Mrs. Green explained its function - how to check out a book. Half my peers rested their heads on their hands and listened to our instructor drone on, a scene reminiscent in Charlie Brown.

I was drawing on the library table when I knocked a pencil to the ground. I took two dramatic steps toward it, picked it up, held it close in front of my eyes so that they crossed, and smiled triumphantly. A couple students giggled, which was when I realized Mrs. Green was speaking mostly to the other side of the circle. It was with this understanding (of something called a 'loophole') I discovered that not following Mrs. Green's every order was sort of fun. And it was even better to make my classmates laugh. 

Noticing I had gotten up, Mrs. Green turned and told me to sit. I did. But when she turned again to continue her lesson, I stood again and waved my hands in the air and performed as I'd seen clowns do. I waved my hands in circles then stood and pretended to fall. 

By now I had the whole class's attention. They laughed through Mrs. Green's lesson, which encouraged me to continue my antics. 

"Sit down," she said, "or you will have to see the principal." 

A bit phased, I sat, put my head down on my desk, and listened for a while when a thought occurred. I had one more trick. They had to see it.

Mrs. Green's back was again turned. I stood, walked behind her, then pretended to be punched and fell down into perfectly choreographed splits.

The class laughed and Mrs. Green kept her promise, pointing toward the door and commanding that I leave for the principal's office. 

Being quite a shy kid, however, I felt not punished but proud of myself for making people laugh. The only thing better was to hear my principal say, "I heard you caused quite a scene in the library today."

"Yes, sir," I smiled. "I did." 

Happy to Need

What follows is a discussion of my recent post “Needy” in a series of e-mails that evaluate this universal feeling. My friend is in a similar stage of life and is always a good sounding board. It is with her permission I publish this. Enjoy!

Laurissa!

I just read your recent blog posting, and it is very well-written!  I understand so much what you have written!  

I don't consider you or me to be a needy person, and yet the more I grow older, the more I realize maybe I am, or maybe more appropriately lonely.  It is a good reminder to turn it over to God.  I pray about it daily, but maybe a simple prayer is not enough.

I like how you put "there is a basic fear among us, I think - anticipation of loneliness".  I don't think there could be a more accurate description of my life right now.  Sure I have friends, and yes I have social outings, but it’s always an empty home to come home to.  

I don't even think it’s the longing to date and be married, although I do long for that as well.  That feeling is reinforced by the sister planning a wedding, a roommate planning a wedding, dates every other evening, and I fit in wherever they have time but the conversation MUST revolve around what song to walk down the aisle to, what color is best for bridesmaid dresses, are party favors necessary, etc.

So yes, that is part of it.  But I think the anticipation of loneliness goes further.  I think it is just anxiety to have friends.  To be able to go home at night without thinking there is absolutely no one to call up for dinner because they have a husband, they have children, or they have a family in town.  I'm tired of ranking second or third or fourth.  But I do take matters into my own hands...on Sunday I called up my friend's mom for a walk because I knew she goes by herself most Sundays.  Strange? Maybe yes, but so nice.  

And yet, this time of life is relaxing. It’s free time, and it’s time I will never get back when I have a family or a husband.  But I totally get what you say...what to do with an anxious heart.  It’s one of my biggest struggles.  I thought I would give you my thoughts, because I've been pondering them all day!   

God has a plan, and continual prayer is important.  With that, I'm off to eat dinner and watch Downton Abby.... I have watched two seasons in two weeks (talk about spending too much time by myself!)  

I'm not sure what else is new in my life... I just froze all sorts of zucchini, strawberries, and blueberries for the year ahead.  I hiked a mountain on Tuesday which was awesome. :) 

Take care! Let me know what else is new with you, and how the summer is going :)  

Love, Friend

*           *           *

Dear Friend,

Dah! I was so nervous about posting that blog because it revealed many of my character flaws and I assumed some people would say, "Just get together with people" - like it's that easy. I already feel like I try really hard at that. But the uneasy feeling never goes away. Annnnd that makes me conclude that it won't unless daily I'm rooted in Christ and ACTUALLY give myself to him. 

I have to admit I'm much better at talking about my relationship with Christ or writing about it than I am walking with him. 

But I need debriefing time, too. And I think a husband - the right one - could really help with that, too, you know? There is something to just having someone there. 

Then again, some people depend only on their relationship and do not let God in and it's fine for a while but eventually they may feel the same discontentment. I’m not waiting for a husband to make me okay.

I agree with you, however: "I'm tired of ranking second or third or fourth" because some of the people in my life are firsts to me in various ways. I adhere so easily to their schedules. And for them to change theirs to fit mine can be difficult for them. I was impressed, actually, by some cousins who came down for a Sunday with three kids, one very small. They went to church with me, then to coffee time, stuck around for a pizza dinner and just hung out with me and it was so much fun. It made me not feel second rate; they made an effort to come into my world. My sister and Josh are the same way. But these people are far away. And sometimes I'm by myself for days on end...mostly because I don't want to feel needy.

I think that's the struggle for you and me, we don't want to appear vulnerable. We want to appear confident and strong. But that can have opposite effects for what we want - togetherness. 

Friend, your e-mail came at the right time. I was thinking, "Great. I just expressed, like, every terrible thing about me and posted it to Facebook of all places," but you helped me see it was needed to do so. 

My summer really is going well. I am spending time with this couple who first of all are SO perceptive. They give a great listening ear, and I don't feel judged but helped. Also, they have a pool and I'm getting tan this summer. Say whaaaat!?

[I explain updates about things, how I long to hike a mountain again and such.]

Yesterday was an interesting day.

I dropped by the post office and saw my old neighbors from when I lived in the apartment all last year. I asked how they were and what their 4th plans were. They both sighed and said, "Nothing. We're both working." and they expressed how tiring it is. So I want to do something for them, but I don't know what. Maybe bake for them again. And yesterday I saw my other neighbor at the same place, and I just texted her to go on a walk today, which I never did before - I don't know why. And then a friend came over and we talked about things, and the weather was so nice. And I realized that people need me to be Christ to them. And I need others to be Christ to me. And that's the only way I see myself functioning in this world. 

What is new with you? You are one friend I wish I saw more often.

Laurissa 

*             *             *

Laurissa,

You always express yourself so well!  [Of course, I had to leave that opening line in there.]  And I couldn't agree more... people in the world do need us to be Christ to them.  It's easy to think about what I need and what I want, but I forget that everyone else is struggling with something and also just wants to feel loved.  I try to remember that, and do things like take my friend for coffee for her birthday because she doesn't have a lot of friends and it means a lot to be remembered, or have someone for dinner because their husband/wife is out of town, or invite someone out who doesn't normally come.  The next thing I want to do is make a meal for my friend who just had a baby.  She was in labor 19 hours and then had a c-section.... sometimes having kids sounds like a terrible idea.  But I still want them someday!  

[Friend explains updates about things]

That’s about all that’s new!  Oh, and I'm addicted to Downton Abbey. I hope you are doing well!  Enjoy your summer break :)  

Love, [Friend]

Needy

“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

It’s weird – the school year can get so busy, as in do-I-have-time-to-eat-supper-or-should-I-grade-more-papers busy. I can grow weary teaching, but I’m occupied, so if there is something that requires much introspection, I don’t have to face it. In fact, if I have 110 students to consider, that is much simpler than dealing with my own heart.

The school year is finished; it has been for a month, and I’m enjoying summer. I had hopes for summer. Enjoy being outside. Visit friends and family. Write. Read. Make up all those devotions I skim over in the school year. Work some in the classroom. Make next year better.

And what have I been doing? Praying…constantly. Battling. Searching for God’s holiness. Being inefficient. Recognizing that sometimes I blame others for things that I need to carry over to the Lord. Realizing what makes me so stubborn and independent, and that as much as these qualities have helped, they have also hurt me. Learning that God uses advocates like co-workers and friends and a perceptive sister to show me I am not alone. Not in the physical sense…because I go home and so do they, and we all become our alone selves and battle different things…but in the spiritual sense.

I’m not as independent as I thought. Nor do I want to be. I mean. I want to be able to sustain myself, but that desire has built the largest of brick walls between me and Jesus. Independence helped me fearlessly head to college, take out loans, go to Alaska and New Mexico and accept a job in an Indiana town without knowing anyone. But it also has wounded my perception of myself and others. I know that Christ offers redeeming grace for these sins and a promise. I don’t have to carry the weight of my own failures and successes.  

There is a basic fear among us, I think - anticipation of loneliness. Of separation. Whether we are currently alone or not makes no difference. The unknown future can make us stir crazy. Or maybe we’re surrounded by people or have kids or a husband (even a supportive one at that) or lots of family. Wherever we are currently, we can always be just a little unsettled. A 2 AM writing session unsettled. An I’m-aggravated-so-I’ll-snap-at-you unsettled. An I’m-going-to-make-this-perfect unsettled. A like-and-comment-but-what-now? unsettled.

I used to believe the root to my anxious heart was because of my ability to be alone. Or should I say tendency to be alone? Because it’s not that I always want it to be that way. In fact, I often consider whether moving to a small town and making mostly married friends was a good choice. Naturally, I can’t call a friend up to go hiking for the day on a whim. They have children to always think of. And I’m not in their position. So they may feel the same toward me. “What can we do with her that would be fun for the family, too?” I like to say that I choose to be alone, but that is not the case. I guess I think it makes me look strong.

Anyway, it has made me believe that these anxieties would go away if someone else were just there. Though I know it would help in some situations, I don’t think it would heal my anxious heart completely. I can’t blame it on differing lifestyles among my friends and me. I can’t blame it on others.

Even now…even at two in the morning…I feel the need to interrupt this time writing with a quick Facebook check, like someone may have sent me something since mid-night.

Out in public we look around when we leave our cars in case someone knows us to keep up appearances. We fixate on what others think we are. We probably have triple-checked our outfits before we left, and still we glance in whatever reflects to make sure we look okay.

We demand people see us.

[rough transition that I don’t know how to fix]

I’ve been taking care of this dog. I could include a couple expletives before the “dog” in that sentence, but I’ll refrain. My friends think she was abused in earlier years. She snaps if you touch her paws or her face, and when you feed her she downs her supper in three bites flat. She whines all through the night (she is just now sleeping of course), she can’t see so she sometimes barks into the void of a dark room. She can’t hear well so it’s impossible to scold her via vocals. She follows you everywhere and can find you in a flash because her nose is still working quite well. And she sits way, waaaaay too close if you’re on the couch. She is clingy.

A long time ago I had a clingy friend I didn’t handle well as I hid in the jungle gym until she moved away. Likewise, my mom used to request daily hugs. I’d bring up one hand and pat her back and retreat to my room. I don’t always handle affection well.

I like my own space. Sometimes it’s really true. I’m in my own zone, and I need time to think, or I’m around hundreds of people in the day and need, just, a two-foot radius. On the other hand, sometimes I pull out these qualities to explain why I am ever involuntarily alone.

I have a feeling, though, that I’ve developed this (I begrudgingly say it) clinginess. I suck so I pray. I feel alone, so I check messages. I’m hungry, so I eat pie (not whole pies. At this point in my life, it’s still just slices). I have something to say so I Tweet it. I want to not be noticed so I sulk and watch Netflix. I see a huge gap of time to fill so I wile it away. I go to church and realize striking up conversation is uncomfortable. As I walk away to my car I think, “But I don’t want to spend my Sunday afternoon alone.”

We are needy, needy people. We NEED Jesus. We need grace. It’s not something we can give ourselves.

I’m finding that my friend’s dog is on her best behavior when I just let her follow me or lay by me, or even – yes – when I pat her back as I lay in bed and she whimpers at 2 AM. She’s breaking down my bubble. Jesus had to bear hell for us – all of humanity – and I can barely humble myself for a dog. But I expect everything from Christ. And I take. I willfully sin in the midst of his grace. I follow him when I want or when I need to be calm. I do these things. At some points I walk with him, but most of the time I take and still remain very worried about how life will be. 

This verse found me as soon as I thought to write tonight: “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.”

An anxious heart is an ongoing thing. So is a relationship with Jesus.

I’m happy to have had the time to discover this message this summer. Teachers really do need summer you guys, and I promise that in a psychological sense these days are no better than school days. Don’t become a teacher for the summers – just don’t.

Good night, all.

The Fall

The Fall

They met - she saw - he might've been real

In moments she stroked his cheek

Wrapped arms around him

Told him thoughts and waited for his

That never came

Alone alone alone she was

In his company

He who scribbled those cards

To her for her 

But he never with her

Wouldn't kiss her

Just a prize, her

Three years time, her

Twenties gone and gone, her

And in them never loved her

And here she's 

Colored in the fall, 

And sad,

But fine

And fine.

What We Love

Jeremiah 5: 30-31

"A horrible and shocking thing has happened in the land: the prophets prophecy lies, the priests rule by their own authority, and my people love it this way. But what will you do in the end?"

I'm still in Jeremaiah and not much further than I was the last time I wrote. I keep rereading it, because as I said last time it reveals much about who God is. He is holy and deeply saddened that his chosen people whom he loved and saved do not choose him. Their hearts and souls cried out to him at one point and now they don't. 

I can remember days as a pre-teen where I would plot out chapters of the Bible to read and which days I would read them. Then I'd tape it to my wall and check off when I read them. However, I was a girl of many passions and the very next day would be working avidly on a deck of cards tower instead, or was it the plot to a book I wanted to write about a girl who was controlled by her Gigapet? Either way, my passions were many. 

I was inefficient. Passionate, but ineffective. And not much has changed except the plot to that book, which now involves various forms of social media (and which I still have not completed). I have loved many things - teaching, writing, story telling, getting to know people, asking questions, hiking, viewing sunsets, reading, crocheting, being super active, being super lazy, visiting family, talking with my sister - and it could be easy to believe that Christ is no real part of any of that. That I built my own world, scraped up from the cards I've been given (see what I did there?). Because in the things I love hide my sins. My most predominant sin? Believing God is not part of what I love. That I have to hide myself from him in order for him to love me. And so, not of God's choice, but of my own, I separated him from the things I love, and it know this is vague, but when things I love turned to shit, it only did so because I was trying to make it good. Only me. 

With God as a convenient umbrella. 

When I needed him. 

Or to make myself look good.

In his novel 1984, George Orwell says that what we hate will destroy us...that some extrinsic force like a corrupt government will be our demise. I agree to an extent, and though we must be wary of others, we must also be wary of ourselves. Alduous Huxley, author of Brave New World, which is also about a corrupt alternate society, says that if something were to destroy us, it would be what we love. We fix ourselves on "soma" pills (that is, anything we divulge in not to face our sin). I agree with him. Destruction comes from our own hearts. 

We blame the world for our problems but rarely look at our own hearts. Examine your heart.

Don't love apart from God. 

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 

1 Corinthians 13: 6

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Jealous for You

A very perceptive student planned devotions one day and talked about a movie based on the boy who had a glimpse of heaven, called Heaven is for Real. He talked about how the desire to know God and the truth of scriptures is common. There is mass hype over a story like this because people want to see evidence of God. But then my student said something quite important: if you want to know God, read scripture. 

You may know the outline of the Bible and think that's enough because you can talk about God for an extended period of time or at least enough to [fill in desired outcome here]. But do you want to know God? 

What I learned about God in Jeremiah chapter 2 this morning is how he is zealous for us. 

First God calls uncertain Jeremiah to send a very important message and reassures him. "'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.'" And then God tells Jeremiah to prepare for impending calamity because of how corrupt the kings of the time had become, and he says that Jeremiah will be an iron pillar. "'They will fight you but will not overcome you, for I am with you and will rescue you.'" 

It is clear God cares about Jeremiah, but then as Jeremiah deliveries the Lord's words to Israel, you see how much he desires them, too. Think of the Israelites as nominalized God-followers now.

"I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me and followed me through a desert...What fault did your fathers find in me that they strayed so far from me? They followed worthless idols and became worthless themselves...You made my inheritance detestable." 

There is this yearning for his people to choose him. And they don't (we don't) because they are easily disillusioned. And since he is just, he tells them of the consequence. "'Be appalled at this...and shudder with great horror.'" "'Consider then and realize how evil and bitter it is for you when you forsake the Lord your God and have no awe of me.'"

At this point, I imagine his arms out, desperation in his voice and on his face, and so, so betrayed. 

What I learned about God this morning is how jealous he is for me, how much he desires me. And am  I giving him very much at all? 

Can't Sleep

Can't sleep. 

This happens from time to time mostly as a result of my mind going absolutely berserk with ideas and checklists of things. 

This morning I took some DayQuil to alleviate this cough so I could teach, but it fogged my brain and made me want to eat cupcakes. Not a pretty sight. Plus there were, like, twenty Greek god and mortal names I had to pronounce while we read Antigone and that wasn't so great. 

I'm much better in writing. 

Also, Tera and I stick to this theory that kids go crazy on the full moon. 

Mine weren't crazy but if they were I wouldn't have known. I think DayQuil flips my system upside down. Never again. I'm just going to bear the cough. 

Dah. Adulthood!

Notes on Winter

My grandpa used to take notes on birds and other nature patterns in Yellowstone through the heavy winters. Though less nature is involved here in my apartment, I decided to take some notes whilst living alone in a fourplex all winter. What follows was not engraved upon my bed post, chiseled in the wall, or even scribed on paper. It was, however, just thought up right now and typed on my iPad. 

Notes on Winter

April 2014

You know how balloons are really dark - almost black - before you blow them up, and then once you do they become the color you ordered? That's what happened to my body. Semi-tanned in summer, a certain size, too. And then I got blown up and my skin grew pale.

Netflix was a good companion. Except for when the screen went blank while loading. That mirror is unforgiving.

At least once a day I considered buying a dog. (If I add "for company" to the end of that sentence, would you judge it?)

February used to be my least favorite month. Now it is tied with March. We covered the lion end of the month. Where's the lamb, March? Where's the lamb?

It's a good thing boots are in style. Cold calves are unbearable. (Not really. But with socks, jeans, and boots, one would think we can't stand a cold calf).

I pretended it wasn't cold one day, and that was gratifying because it was a snow day and I could stay inside. I wore shorts and read a magazine while my toe-nail paint dried.

Because I own as many underwear and pairs of socks, I can wait three weeks to bring items to the laundromat. Not a bad deal, though. Free TV. Deal breaker, though. Staring children.

Luckily I didn't have to find and kill my own meat. I did, however, have to defrost it (a long and tedious wait), which is a difficult thing for a last-minute meal planner, which makes me a wolf, not a beaver.

If without a car scraper, a library card works very well. I broke down and bought a scraper in February, the day before I found my old one of course. 

Candy cane hot chocolate is only festive for so long. I'm a candy freak, so this has never happened, but I threw away half a bag of peppermints in March. 

Both indoor plants are still living so [dusts off shoulder].

It's been a long and cold one, but that's okay. Or at least that's what we have to say when we have a long, cold winter to make ourselves appear content and well-adjusted. What we really mean is "...but I'm done with it now because it should be spring and I'm sick of too-warm calves."

I crocheted a number of items. My favorite are the mittens and cabbage patch wig.

And this is dedicated to Grandpa, the best winter keeper.

A Dreamer

A dreamer.

She desires magically parallel worlds

That keep her asking, "What if?"

What if this dirty old town

Had a better story 

of a great underground?

What if his hand weren't there -

Would a hook define his identity

And he become a villain?

What if puddles, whenever someone wished, 

were as deep as the ocean

And all there was to do was to jump?

What if you could change uninspiring company

By blinking three times, twirling, and singing

While some other took a liking to you?

What if old photo albums

Were living faces of people past

Looking into their future at you?

What if this dreamer imagined dreams into facts 

And lived there, only

Wishing that she could come back?

Sunday Mornings

I love this little space of time after I wake up and before church starts. It's usually two hours of getting breakfast, getting ready, reading, and listening to Fernando Ortega. Sometimes I write. This time is uninhibited by the matters of my upcoming week. As a teacher, not planning/grading on Sundays is very tough, but I save that stress for later in the day. Right now I just want to smile, drink tea, reflect on the Lord's goodness and be content. 

Teacher Gushing 2

Dear student, 

Who told you to become a reader last summer? When did you finally obliterate the barricade between you and literature? How did you figure out that reading excerpts from a standardized computer test wasn't real reading? Didn't involve self-discovery, didn't have an authentic purpose, was supposedly the "best" of what's out there spanning a century but didn't speak to you? How did you come upon the first lines of a novel and let it entangle your mind into its world? 

In any case, I stand at the floodgates of this world to welcome you, as I was once welcomed, too, by Ramona Quimby, Amber Brown, Kit Kitredge, Hemingway, Stephen King, Elna Baker, Barrie's Peter Pan, Twain, Austen and so, so many more. 

I am proud of you.

Teacher Gushing

Here's something. I often have these really great moments teaching, but the day moves too quickly to relate them to another staff member or even my friends or family, and in turn I just forget about them. I've thought about doing this before, writing about them, but I have reservations. I intend for no student to be singled out or embarrassed by what I write. And I know...not all my thoughts need to be handed out to the public, but some moments can't go unnoticed. So against my better judgment, I'm going to write about them because what is life if you can't gush about what you love?

 1) I'm teaching a poetry unit, which I've loved teaching every year. I write with them, and they get excited about it, though they mostly won't confess it. One assignment is to take a well known poem and read it with dramatic pauses, voice, and emphasis. She read "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath. It was read so well, Plath herself may as well have been standing behind my podium bleeding her heart out to us. Her tone was somber, bitter, angered, and spent. Bravo, student. Just outstanding. 

2) Also to do with poetry. Two guys teamed up. One wrote the optimist's perspective, and one wrote the pessimist's perspective. The latter took all the gravest thoughts of depression and condensed them into this poem. Though it was intentionally written to depress the crowds, it was still heartfelt. I don't have it in print, but he wrote something about engraving a painting of scars on a body canvass, though he put it much, much better. I love that he wrote to a self-imposed standard.

3) During a study hall I discovered a student and I have many similar tastes. A connoisseur on all items YouTube, fanfiction, 80s and 90s alternative music, he aptly fits my weird standards for conversation and helped add to a list of best worst songs of all time, which I'd already begun with a couple other students two years ago. 

          A. "Take Me on"

          B. "He Needs Me"

          C. "Pop Goes My Heart"

          D. "Tablecloth"

          E. "Burning Down the House"

          F. Uncle Jesse's "Forever"

          G. Kip's Marriage Song "Technology"

          H. "I am a Vampire"

Etc. 

Butter

Certainly, I could be entertained for the rest of my life with all this access to technology. Even if I eradicated technology, the novels on my bookshelf could amuse me for years. And then, of course, there's writing. That would occupy me for a long while. If I didn't know how to write, even, then crocheting could entertain me for some time as I have many skenes of yarn still left. And if I had none of that, I could rub sticks together or churn butter and always have something to do. 

But if no one would be there to say, "What delicious butter this is," then I suppose it would all be for nothing.

L.L.B