Pear Tree

Almost a Year Later....

2007-05-30T12:47:00.000-07:00

So I forgot about my blog. Well, first I got busy with school and then I forgot about it. I come back to it nearly a year later and think...

My life is the same...my life is different.

I'm still a teacher. I still have my lovely Annie dog and wonderful husband. I still live in Texas and like good books.

Now I am a homeowner. I love my little one-story house with the vivid Mexican colors splashed beside our arched windows. Except that houses require more work to go with the greater amount of space. But it's worth it.

I'm out of school for the summer. It's great and terrifying at the same time. I have no driving deadlines, no students to teach, no papers to grade, no lesson plans to turn in. I sleep a reasonable number of hours each night.

It's terrifying because I can now evaluate my life and say:
1) I need to excercise
2) I need to write letters
3) I need to write creatively
4) I need to organize my school materials
5) I need to organize the office
6) I need to mop and clean bathrooms
7) I need to mow the lawn
8) I need to floss my teeth
9) I need to brush the (now two!) dogs
10) I need to relax while somehow getting a lot of stuff done

I will write more soon. Right now (yes, it's the afternoon. what of it?) I need to take a shower:)

This Minute

2006-07-24T18:21:00.000-07:00

A little run-down of mundane life.

Currently doing: Typing on my PowerBook while sitting on the green futon beside my now 34-pound dog who is alternately staring intently out the window and begging me for a walk with her syrupy brown eyes.

Three meals that I've eaten today: Instant oatmeal and sweetened coffee, soup with crackers, taco salad with beef fajita meat

Chores I've accomplished: Getting out of bed (it is summer), doing dishes and unloading dishwasher, laundry

State of our apartment: Boxing and sorting chaos. We are working, but there's little space to store what we've done.

Errands run today: Post Office, Evan's parents (to borrow their truck), dry cleaners (our comforter got a little mildewed from us NEVER using it. Comforters are useless in Texas! Still, we will see if we can salvage it), Photo Express (for Evan's photography business), The Container Store (to get ideas not spend money), the title company (where we spent 1 1/1 hours signing the closing papers for our new house. We should be in the house by Wed. or Thurs.), and finally, the house of church friends who just moved and loaded up the truck with boxes for us to use. Whew!

Currently reading: A Catcher in the Rye, Marley and Me (Evan and I are taking turns reading it out loud), and The Female of the Species: Tales of Mystery and Suspense by Joyce Carol Oates. I'll start some writing and education books next week.

Movies seen at the box office this summer: The new Pirates of the Caribbean, Superman returns

Movies seen at home this summer: Crash, Riding in Cars with Boys, The Scent of a Woman, Dancer, Texas Pop. 81, The Incredibles, Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?, Walk the Line, The Fastest Indian Alive....I could go on and on and on.

When I have my first school-related meeting: July 27

When I meet the new freshmen I teach: August 1

My first day back at school: August 14

Why today is special: My parent's 30th wedding anniverary. Go Thom and Sue!!

My latest malady: a bee sting I got yesterday. The dang bee stung my pinky. It looks like a mutant sausage next to my other fingers. The good news: it's not on my writing hand. The bad news: I had to shake hands with lots of people today: squeeze!!

What I have left to do today: feed my friend's cats while she's away, write some letters, finish the laundry...and walk Annie!!

Any information I've forgotten?

In Love

2006-06-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

I have fallen in love with San Antonio.

We've been here for nearly a year now. It's a good thing I like it, since Evan and I are mostly staying here for the summer. Jen came to visit, Evan taught arts camp at church, Mike came to visit, we found a house (closing date is July 30), and my parents are coming in on Sunday. We'll go to the beach for a weekend with Evan's family in July, but that will also be in Texas.

I can't imagine myself anywhere else. I grew up in the Indianapolis area, and I have a lot of fond memories from there. I'm actually writing a short story set in Indiana, and it's fun seeing how I convey the place of my childhood. But Indiana is very flat and very gray and sad in the winter. My parents don't live there anymore. Actually, other than a whirlwind night last summer on my way to California I haven't been to Indy in 3 years.

I do like the mountains of Tennessee. I like watching them smoke after a rainfall and jumping in piles of colorful leaves during the fall. I love Milligan and the professors I had. I miss places like Roan Mountain, Watauga Lake, and Cootie Brown's. I went to college, student taught, got married, and completed my first year of teaching in Tennessee. After that year of teaching, I desperately needed out. Now I think I'm finally reaching a point where I could go back and visit.

Texas offered this land of opportunity. Evan's family, his hometown. A wealth of potential jobs. A chance at something new. Maybe success. Maybe just a real place to call home. A new church. A new school. New friends. A new vision.

It's not the muddy brown riverwalk, as Mark Cuban kindly called our pride and joy here. Though I do love meandering downtown. It's not the Mexican food (yum!) or even the friendly people. Maybe it's all of these. I do miss snow and people who can pronounce the word "tour" right (my students pronounce it "tore"). Life is just a contradiction. A time to stay and a time to move on. I'm glad we moved on. I'm glad we're staying.

Self Revelation

2006-06-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

When I'm sad, I take online personality quizzes. I took one the other day and had to laugh at my gut response to a given statement on personality.

The choices were A. Strongly Agree B. Somewhat agree C. Not sure D. Somewhat disagree E. Strongly disagree

Possible personality trait: Good at making decisions

My response: C. Not sure

2006-06-12T17:31:00.000-07:00

Thoughts of the Day

1. I miss my mom. It sucks living in Texas when she lives in Alabama. Even though she and I drive each other crazy, she inspires me like none other.

2. I'm mad that we can't find a house and mad that looking for one has taken up so much of my summer "free" time. Actually, we have a found a number of houses--all problematic. Can't I just get a studio for my husband and a yard for my dogter? Is that so much to ask?

3. I worry about my single girl friends. Several of them seem to feel that their lives will really only truly begin when they get married. After all, they think, marriage is God's ultimate plan. They just somehow missed the boat and have to find a way to find that man and quickly. It frustrates me because there's no easy thing for me to say. I can't say it's not that bad being single. Cause I'm the lucky married one (in their eyes). I can't speak for God and what his plan is or isn't. It just frustrates me. Why can't you feel normal if you're single? Why can't we all love and support each other instead of demeaning one another?

4. I really like the writer Alice Sebold. Usually, I'm not a best seller list type person. But after reading her book Lucky (a firsthand account of her rape as a college freshmen and how it changed her life), I broke down and read The Lovely Bones in one day. Lucky is my personal favorite, but The Lovely Bones is marvelous writing. I recommend both.

5. I stopped biting my nails when I was in 9th grade. I started biting them again this year. Why now? What is my problem?

Mixed Up

2006-06-03T13:40:00.000-07:00

I am cross-dominant. My body is mixed up about which hand to use at what time. It helps sometimes.

I tend to feel
1) Special. Lefthanders like me only make up 10% of the US population and 13% of the world population.
2) Superior. Can you navigate a computer mouse with your right hand while taking notes or eating with a fork with your left hand? Can you cut meat with the knife in your right hand and eat it with your fork in your left hand, and then not have to switch your utensils all meal long? I can definitely multi-task.

Other times I feel
3) Confused. I get confused over which hand to use when I iron clothes or cut up food. I always feel very awkward drying my hair while holding a brush. Playing pool is very awkward as well.

These are the activities I feel comfortable doing with my left hand:
1)Writing
2)Eating
3)Holding the phone against my left ear
4)Playing tennis, ping pong

And for the ones I like doing with my right hand (or foot):
1)Playing soccer, baseball, golf, basketball
2) Using scissors or knives
3)Throwing or catching anything

I'll think of more later. Whenever I try to research my quirkiness, I just find websites about firearms use. I guess my life would become even more complicated if I tried to figure out which hand to use to fire a gun.....

I really like tying my shoes bunny ears. It makes my hands feel normal:)

A Night Walk in Summer

2006-06-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

"She wanted simply to walk out of the office, walk out and go to a movie, then buy herself a new dress. then go to the store, then buy a pack of cigarettes, then go home and put on her new dress, then walk into her backyard, barefoot, with a scotch in her hand and a pack of cigarettes, and watch the sun go down. She wanted to do all of these simple things as if she were a young teacher on the first day of summer vacation."

From In Perfect Light by Benjamin Alire Saenz (the author whose writing workshop I attended last month)

A week ago, I finished up school. It felt good. Today Evan and I took Annie on a night walk after her agility class. We just completed the initial papers to buy a house. We were walking in that very neighborhood just to get a feel for it, especially after dark. It was nice. The house is right off of a busy street, so we can hear a bit of traffic, but the street leads in a dead end that is undeveloped. We must have seen at least 8 deer in that grassy patch of land. Our house in one story, with a great room that is tiled, three bedrooms, a kitchen with new cabinets, and a garage for Evan to get messy. And Annie gets a yard. It's scary to be making this big decision. Yet we can't wait to have a home that we can paint and invite people into. A space for us to make our own. Our closing date is June 30. Time for sleep....

Mammals and Musings

2006-05-09T19:47:00.000-07:00

I have seen a flurry of wildlife this week. I saw a coyote slinking under a fence as I was driving down a dark road. Evan and I saw a possum two nights ago, its white body shuffling through the black forest. Then last night we saw the waddling shape of "a possum, a cat? No.....a raccoon!!!" Such excitement exists in the wilds of Texas, let me tell you. We spotted deer both nights. They stood motionless as Evan tried to teach them morse code with his head light.

My workshop on Saturday was good...a bit intimidating, but good. I'm not like the others. I'm younger. I don't know when, let alone if, I want to get published. I'm timid, really. I have this thing I can do--write. But I don't know quite what direction to take. But the leader, a Hispanic author named Ben Saenz, and the other people were really supportive. Mr. Saenz is an ex-priest who became a writer. He teaches at the University of Texas in El Paso. He's an amazing writer. He really drives himself. I could tell. He's never held a 9-5 job, except in high school. I wish I could say the same.

It was nice to force myself to spend a day concentrating on my own writing--not my students' writing or the writing of authors we are studying. To look at myself and say, "I have this gift, but will I ever use it the way I should? Will I write passionately as a observe and live productively?" I hope so.

Now I must finish less than three weeks of school, come home, and finally get some good sleep.

Writing my Life

2006-04-29T09:06:00.000-07:00

Last week I signed up for a writing workshop at Gemini Ink in downtown San Antonio ( Gemini Ink. ) I'm excited. I've never done a writing workshop unless you count Advanced Writing class at Milligan. The workshop is called We Must Write the Words or the Words Will Write Us. My school is paying for it, since I get 6 professional development credits for it.

I had to submit a writing sample of three pages. Either poetry or prose. Ever since attending an Episcopal church, I've had problems with Either/Or assignments. I'm all about the Both/And. I'm Charismatic and Liturgical. I'm Emotional and Educated. I just got done doing a Bible Study on Brian McLaren's book A Generous Orthodoxy. It's all about the paradoxes of faith. Thus, I wrote a memory. In prose but heavily accentuated with poetic images and structure.

I sat down over a week ago and tried to start one of my ideas for a brilliant short story. Something inspired by a newspaper clipping or a conversation I overheard. But in my voice, I heard Natalie Goldberg or Anne Lamotte or some other writer I admire whispering in my ear, "Write what you know."

What do I know? I know I'm a feminist, and I'm married. I'm independent, but I'm committed. A both/and again. So I wrote about my dorm room in Hart, about Opie, my roommate, and her guitar Austin. About my friend who's in Montana while I'm in Texas.

And I felt like I was writing about something I knew. I knew the images, the emotions. I felt it deeply, missed it, but wouldn't go back.

It's a beautiful thing, writing my life.

The workshop people will probably tear it apart. But that's okay.

It's a start.

If only...

2006-04-27T21:27:00.000-07:00

This week has gone fast.

I have spent nearly every waking minute that I wasn't doing school stuff trying to find a home for a little 10-lb. chihuahua mix that I found running around my school building on Mon. morning. Evan and I even took it home for 2 days. It crapped on the back seat of Evan's car and marked the apartment several times. Poor adult, unneutered, not housebroken, sweet dog.

Evan and I thought the dogs of East Tennessee had it bad. Not so. There, I saw a stray dog around my old school and called the humane society. They came to pick it up. Here you have to bring it in yourself, and you have to have an appointment. You have to call at 8:30 in the morning and try to get an appointment that day. Their line is busy most of the time, and there are never appointments after 4 pm. You can expect a line of other dogs in front of you--other people trying to make appointments for the animals--15 dogs (humane society) or 30 dogs long (no-kill shelter). All of the shelters are full. The no-kill shelter said they could get this dog a spot in 2-3 WEEKS.

Stray dogs are a huge problem, apparently, in places in the city where I don't go. Unneutered, unspayed dogs who keep breeding. The pound euthanizes 500 dogs a day, and still the shelters are full.

I made it my mission to find this dog a home. I talked to parents, kids. I tried to talk Evan into letting us keep it in our one-bedroom apartment along with Annie. I called chihuahua rescues and every shelter in town numerous times. Another teacher kept it two nights while we worked on this.

I failed. A friend's husband took the dog to animal control this morning. He has about 3 days to find a home. The people there think he'll be easy to place. That people will see his sweet face and gentle manner and want him. He's a statistic, just one more dog in the city. He's better off the street, I tell myself. He's not impregnating other dogs. His worms and infected dew claws might be dealt with. If he finds a home.

Please, God, watch over the little dog tonight.

Stretching my Smile

2006-04-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

This week I went to an orthodontist. My mother-in-law finally got her teeth straightened at age 50-something. Now, she had to have teeth pulled and a great deal done. Her blue collar family couldn't afford to do anything about her teeth when she was young. When she finally got braces a few years ago, she was in danger of losing many of the teeth she had.

So, she is now on a campaign for everyone (at least in our family) to enjoy the benefits of straightened teeth. This is where I come in. I never got braces. My childhood dentist said I was an either/or case. I could get braces. Or not. It wasn't completely necessary, but if I wanted really straight teeth, I should have it done. My family didn't spend $4000 on an optional process. I figured I could live with the imperfection more than my parents' stress about money (which I already lived with most of the time). As I grew older, I had those wishes for a perfect smile. But I wasn't going to actually pay for it.

Evan's mom has decided that I deserve the same treatment she and her sons got. She wants to help pay for it since my insurance doesn't cover orthodontics for patients over 12 years. So I went to a free consultation with her orthodontist this week. I didn't know what to think when the orthodontist said my bottom teeth formed a "very interesting pattern." He asked me if I was a thumb sucker. Um, no. I'm not sure why my teeth are so pushed out on the bottom.

Apparently, my upper jaw is super narrow, so my lower jaw tries to compensate. This doesn't work so well. I don't have any pain, but I grind my teeth at night and my jaw clicks. The verdict? To gain a PERFECT smile, I need surgery on my upper jaw to widen it. Yeah, right. I'd love to pay the thousands it costs and be in miserable pain.

The other option is just to get braces or something similar and work with the teeth in house. It would still fix a lot of problems. I learned that I am an excellent candidate for that Invisilign thing (clear plastic mouthguards moulded to my teeth). That way I wouldn't have to get braces. I could just wear these 23 hours a day and take them out to eat and brush. I would get a new set of these every two weeks of the 2 1/2 years of teeth correction I would undergo.

I don't know what to think. They cost a lot. I feel guilty (as usual) when Evan's parents want to do something for me. I feel 14 again. Self-conscious about my smile. At least I don't have the perm anymore.

Thoughts on Summer...

2006-04-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

Summer is becoming more and more a reality in my life.

It's filling up fast, too.

My college roommate, Jen S., is coming for a week in June.

My parents are coming for a week in July.

My sister-iin-law and I are somehow getting together and creating our wedding albums.

We are going on our annual Longfield beach trip (3 months to convince Evan that we really do need to ride horses along the beach...just because).

Evan and I are heading to wedding after wedding, cameras in hand.

I keep forgetting it's April and nearly 100 degrees.

It's nice to have something to look forward to...after grading papers and calling parents and planning lessons and getting very little sleep in general.

Yay summer!

Palm Sunday

2006-04-08T21:57:00.000-07:00

Palm fronds Sunday

Then crucify him next week

Full of pride Monday

I've given up sweets

Sacrificing my sugar high

To commune with God

Don't pray, don't even try

It's just myself I care to laud

Palm fronds Sunday

Dipped in the blood of next week

I'll begin driving nails Monday

Telling lies while I watch what I eat

Thinking about my sugar high

Resenting the God

Don't think to love him, don't even try

It's just myself I care to laud

Putting my palm frond down

Staring at the blood on my own hands

Just a few drops, not enough to drown

Surely God could understand

Palm fronds Sunday

Then crucify him next week

Look at myself on Monday

I can't look at the one I beat

It's his gaze I cannot meet
It's his gaze I cannot meet

Hope

2006-03-29T15:38:00.000-08:00

On days like today I think there's hope for me as a teacher.

If you know me well, you know I never planned to teach. Elementary Ed. teachers teach because they love kids. Higher grade level teachers often end up teaching because they love the subject matter. I love the subject matter.

I also like kids. I really do. But I'm often too sensitive to teach 15 year old snots. It's not that I cry in front of them. But I take things too seriously. I'm not enough of an adult.

Being homeschooled has not helped. It helped my personal education. But I'd never really dealt with many of the problems I see daily. My mom only taught 2-5 students at a time. What the heck is classroom management? I'm still learning.

I cried all last year and swore I wouldn't teach. After all, I hated it. The grading, the administration, 12 year old snots, the whole deal.

But somehow I still go in every day and teach my heart out. And come home at night and grade and plan.

Much of the time it seems the kids don't care. They want the grades but don't want to really learn.

And then yesterday I got a letter saying I had been chosen as one of the Who's Who Teachers of the Year. Mary ( a WONDERFUL sophomore) had nominated me.

And at the parent-teacher conference last night Jeff's mom said she appreciates me wanting to promote him to an honors level class next year. But really could I just make sure he gets into my class? Because don't I teach sophomores too?

And Andrea begged me to burn my Sufjin Stevens CD for her (no, honey, teachers should not break copyright rules.) and told me she thinks I would make a good mom.

Tomorrow may be frustrating. I may want to tear my hair out and work at Sonic, but no one can take away today.

And that gives me hope.

Ah Spring!

2006-03-20T15:35:00.000-08:00

Here's a secret: (I went back to school today, and I kinda liked it!)

Spring Break Highlights:
-Going to the Botanical Zoo with Evan and his parents. Watching Evan and his dad run around with their fancy digital cameras trying to capture every songbird, blooming flower, and duck (yes, duck!) in sight.

-Watching Bleak House, the Masterpiece theater miniseries on Dickens' novel. It was 8 hours long! Evan and I watched 4 hours in a single night!!

-Making the chili mentioned in a previous entry. My brother-in-law actually admitted that it was really hot. That's saying something.

-Taking Annie to go play with her best friend from agility and obedience classes. Ruby is a border collie. I think they really are in love. What happens when two female dogs, who are fixed, fall in love? Are they lesbians? Do they have a gender anymore? This puzzles me.

-Sleeping, sleeping, and more sleeping......

9 more weeks till summer!!! And I'm teaching 3 great works of literature at the same time! Heaven or hell for an English major. You decide.

Surreal--The Real Beneath Us All

2006-03-15T21:34:00.000-08:00

I saw my life today. At the San Antonio Public Library. A vivid structure that Evan calls "enchilada red." The same color as the eight alarm chili I made with Adam's New Mexico chili powder. Well, the recipe did call for 1/3 cup of chili powder. My sinuses are good and cleared up.

A dance of colored glass begins at the first floor of the library and spirals upward to the ceiling. Over seven hundred pieces of handblown glass interwoven to create a carnival of fragility.

It was on the fifth floor that I saw them. I was loading up my arms with books on the Roaring Twenties and Romeo and Juliet when I saw the couple. Pudgy, he in an over-sized Hawaiian button-up shirt, she with glasses slipping down the end of her nose. She was holding up a Magic Eye book, and he was peering at an image. One of those cacophonies of merging color that supposedly holds a shape within its seeming horizon of pattern.

He was gazing down at it, his sandled feet placed firmly on the carpet as his forehead strained with intensity. I moved on past the couple as I muttered the call numbers of the next book on my list.

I have never been able to see the hidden picture. But show me the twisted glass, and I will hide my mind inside it. Lean my cheek against the cool glass. Let my spirit dance among the vibrant red and orange.

Don't ask me to look harder. I can't see the picture. I can't. I can't. Color spiraling upward.....up and up.

Unexpected

2006-03-12T07:07:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it's fun to do something unexpected. Something not really me.

When Evan got his job with the photography co., I never expected that I might get a job, too. I thought I'd just come along sometimes and carry around lenses and such.

Then, a few months ago, the owners asked me if I would be the #3 video person for a Houston wedding. Talk about a crash-course experience. But it was fun.

Since then, they haven't needed me. (I doubted they'd ever want me again, considering my lack of experience with video cameras).

But apparently it's convenient to have me shoot video while Evan shoots still photographs. So next weekend at another Houston wedding I become video shooter #2. Shooter #1 is the company's lead photographer.

Yesterday Evan, Annie, and I went over to company still photographer #2 and video editor #1's house (they're married). Evan is helping the photographer (the wife) learn to shoot digital. The video editor (the husband) taught me the basics of video. We practiced with tripod and monopod. He showed me how to do crazy things like flip the monopod upside down so the camera can capture the feet of dancing couples.

He wants me to be adventurous with the camera. To get it in the thick of the party. Make the footage intimate. This is going to be a challenge for me.

Something unexpected (I think I'll like it).

I think I'll mess up a lot, have a blast, and get paid.

I think...who is that confident girl toting around the video camera? It can't be scared me.

But it is.

The Funnest English Class Ever

2006-03-11T09:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the last day of school before Spring Break.

In my Junior English class my students worked on (aka thought about working on) their group projects on The Great Gatsby.

My most, let's say, energetic Junior brought in a mini basketball hoop with a nerf ball and proceeded to put it up on the small window beside the door. He and other students took turns shooting around until one boy brilliantly suggested that we play Knockout. Imagine 10 of the 25 students in this class lined up across the room earnestly throwing and retrieving taped balls of paper (because we needed two balls). And my nicest student and most volatile student (the "energetic" one) --the two who NEVER interact with each other--were locked in a struggle for first place for at least 5 minutes.

It was the most fun English class EVER for most of them, I'm sure.

I ran into some of my sophomores in the hallway. "Can we play basketball in class, too?" they asked. "No," I said. "You're watching movie clips about poetry and taking notes as a quiz grade." "What? We have to take a quiz?!!"

We watched the movie In Her Shoes, which I unabashedly love. Cameron Diaz actually reads "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
and an e.e. cummings poems (we studied the Bishop poem this quarter, and read some cummings poetry as well). There was a hush over the classroom as we watched Diaz' character find meaning in poetry, as she read to an elderly retired English professor. And they wrote furiously to receive their test grade.

When the movie clips were over, one of my students broke out a copy Where the Wild Things Are. Michael and Aimee did a Wild Things impromptu dance. "Good-bye, my wild things," I told them as the bell rang.

The freshmen read over characters in Romeo and Juliet (which we will read after Spring Break). "I'll be anyone but Romeo," Michael said. "I'll be any girl part," said Kaeleigh. "Can a girl play a boy part?" asked Isabel. "Go for it," I said.

It really was a lovely day.

Then I went home to take 2 hour nap, since I spent nearly all of Thursday night grading projects. After the nap, Daniel and Alice took Evan and me out to an Indian restaurant.

So good....

We watched Walk the Line and petted Smoky, the bulldog.

Annie has just gone belly-up as I write this. Everyone should own a dog. This morning when I was walking her, we saw the little one-year-old who adores Annie. "Bobo," he shrieked as she raised her head in the air to lick his delighted feet.

I don't know what language he calls her in. But she understands perfectly.

2 days at home

2006-03-08T20:23:00.000-08:00

I got sick again. I'm not getting enough sleep. I did the unthinkable (in my sleepy eyes). I took 2 days off work and let a sub deal with my spring-break-starved students. I slept, graded, watched movies, let Evan make soup for me, and just rested. It was nice. Two more days. Then I can break loose-- begin a cleaning frenzy, visit art museums, go to the zoo, arrange play dates for Annie, read books for me....and eventually start planning for next quarter.

Highlight of my week: Grete let me read her essay on Sister Sponsa. It was beautiful. It was so exciting reading an essay not riddled with errors or devoid of a main point. It was so nice to just let her words soak in.

I want to write an essay! Maybe I'll do that over spring break, too.

Midnight on Saturday Night

2006-03-04T21:58:00.001-08:00

I love Saturdays nights. I love the expectation of church on Sunday. I know I have mounds of papers and planning looming on Sunday, but not tonight.

Tonight I can sit in my shorts and t-shirt here (yeah, it's back up to 80 degrees. Never fear....the record of 91 degrees was set in 1909, so it's still quite normal). I can pat my 30-pound puppy passed out on the floor. She's recovering from two hours at the dog park. I can listen with one ear to a British car show that Evan is watching (without him knowing I secretly enjoy it--hey, I played with matchbox cars as a child, I'm from Indy, and I love to drive fast).

I just got back from a girls night with Kate and Melanie. We vowed not to talk about school and failed miserably, but food, fellowship, and a movie did a lot of good for me. According to my watch, it is now early Sunday morning. In many ways, I feel that this Saturday is my Sunday. When I am open to wonder and actively bettering my life. On Sunday, after church, I just hurry home and cram as many work-related tasks into 10 hours.

Ah....and early Sunday am has arrived. I am feeling a sleepiness steal into my head (it's not the wine...really!) Oh, beautiful midnight hour....I have missed you.

On the Run

2006-03-02T20:41:00.000-08:00

I have realized that my posts are really long. So I have decided to write something short and to the point. Items of note: my mother is having an identity crisis. She is going to see a life coach. She is in a different mood every time I talk to her. Sometimes in tears, sometimes very hopeful. After thinking about lots of job ideas, I think she will end up doing what she did back in Indiana: run her own school of sorts. I wish I could teach with her. We could be a great team...except she'd nag me a lot:) I miss my parents a lot. I'm confused about what I believe...still...and wish my parents were progressing towards some of my new revelations. They're not. They're very happy with their charismatic church--dancing, glory!, and all that. I try to understand and be okay with us going in semi-different paths. But I feel like I'm betraying them somehow. Anyway, this is tending towards non-shortness (you can tell it's almost the weekend for me!). I shall go and grab my five hours of sleep.
(6 school days until Spring Break!!!!)

Houston in the Rain

2006-02-25T08:54:00.002-08:00

Two weeks before Spring Break. Where has the time gone?

I am sitting at Colin and Chandra's (Evan's middle brother and sister-in-law's) house. I am sitting cross-legged staring out the window at the soft gray sky, wind-blown trees, and rain-spattered sidewalk. Annie is lying a few feet from me. Her body rises and falls as she sleeps off her hours of playtime with her cousin dog, Chester. Evan is taking a shower and preparing for a wedding today. Poor bride. The forecast says it will storm all day. The engadgement portraits have been cancelled, but Evan still has a bridal portrait, wedding ceremony, and reception to shoot.

Evan doesn't need me at this wedding since a videographer is going as well. So I will just play with dogs, maybe do schoolwork, maybe get dressed, and spend as much time with my 1 1/2 year old nephew as possible. I hadn't seen him since Christmas. He is running around and babbling up a storm. I will babysit him tonight while Colin and Chandra go to a party. I was just thinking how long it's been since I babysat a one-year-old.

The summer I was fourteen I babysat a one-year-old for the whole summer. It was for a family from my church in Carmel, Indiana. We watched the same Barney video every day. I certainly don't miss that. I do miss going out to the sidewalk with a bucket of water and a foam brush. Little Jordan would plunge his sponge (and whole hand) deep into the bucket and slather the sidewalk with cold water. Then he would watch the water dry up until it disappeared. I miss picking him up and running through the sprinkler until he shook with giggles. I miss him refusing to go to sleep because he'd rather hear me sing to him (I was practicing for my audition for a European tour with Indianapolis Children's Choir). One time, after I had gone for the day, and Jordan's mom was checking on him in his sleep, she heard him say, "Yes, Amy, yes." He was dreaming about me, his gangly, permed-haired babysitter.

I think today will be good. I love high school students. I really do. I love reading Mat's depressing song lyrics that rave about the inadequacies of the American Dream. I love hearing Michael and Andrew argue over who will get the best grade on their vocab quiz. I love seeing the relief on Mary's face when she hands in her research paper. She carries it like a fragile vase. She's afraid to breathe on it. Afraid it will catch fire and consume her hours of labor.

But I do miss the innocence of a one-year-old who doesn't understand divorce, the pressures of getting good grades and making his coach happy. Who doesn't need to be thin enough fast enough smart enough. Who can just be. Be loved for the act of living, discovering.

There is no place I'd rather be....than Houston in the rain.

Repercussions from my Thoughts

2006-02-19T18:57:00.000-08:00

healing

we all want healing, don’t we?
want someone to cup their hands around our face
and breathe fresh blood into our veins
clarity into our tired eyes
softness into our hardened souls?

she wanted healing so much that she didn’t wait for his
touch
she touched him first on his cloak
that showed his place in society his class his family
the part of him she shouldn’t mustn’t touch but did
she the unclean touched the pure
white lamb of God
she that had lost everything
her blood and her bloodline
took more than his followers ever dared
the power from his body his focus from the crowd
she was noticed and called out with rage
by his followers
with love by him
He called her daughter and loved her by his
acceptance
He praised her for her courage
to touch his cloak
find her questions answered
He healed her

she wanted healing so much that she didn’t let the darkness
take over
she sought the darkness out with the light left
in her soul
she had to find a suffering worse than
her child’s death a sudden horror of a death
tumbling down the steps and to her feet in
an accident a tragedy
she lost everything but her belief
that others had lost more
He showed her the prostitutes with their bodies
pried open by gentlemen and doctors
who condemned them to a life
and death of shame
He gave her a journey to help these women
live in honor
die in peace
He called her and she responded to his
mercy
He healed her

Lord, I am not worthy

I do not dare to touch you
I fear to find others more needy
than myself

To receive you

But I must know you
Must feel this love
again

But only say the word

Call me daughter
Call me

And I will answer

And I shall be healed

Alone with my thoughts

2006-02-19T17:53:00.000-08:00

This weekend Evan was gone to New Mexico for his grandpa's funeral. I stayed in San Antonio to catch up on sleep, try to get over this persistent cold, and take care of Annie. For the nearly 2 years we've been married, Evan and I have surprisingly spent little time apart. He went on a vertebrate field biology trip for a weekend last fall. I went to an educational conference and briefly visited my parents without him. He went to Jeff's wedding. And now this funeral.

It was strange with him gone. I realized for the first time in awhile I was alone with my thoughts. Between teaching and spending time with Evan and Annie, I don't tend to think much alone. Or whatever I think about on my drive to or from school comes out in conversation with Evan, family, or friends. I did talk to some family and friends on the phone, but all of my close friends/family here in San Antonio were out of town. I felt a little isolated. Not a bad thing or a good thing per se...just different.

I thought and I thought and I thought. And I did dishes and watched two movies and took Annie to the dog park. The dog park is usually overflowing with dogs, but not yesterday. The temperature had dropped to 40 degrees with a bitter wind. Which I know Grete will laugh at, but hey, it was in eighties here on Thursday. Evan made fun of me when I bought a new scarf and glove set with my Christmas money, but I've already worn them at least 3 times! I arrived at the park with coat, scarf, and gloves. I was sad to see that no one had braved the cold, but I chased Annie around nonetheless.

I paused to sit at a bench and curl my feet up towards my body. The sight of my huddled body drew a honk from a truck whizzing past. I was a little startled. The park is not in a bad area of town, but it is secluded since it is next to an Air Force Base and park of a larger city park but has no residential development. I began to wonder if anyone would stop and bother me. Just then a dark sedan with tinted windows pulled into the parking lot. Now most times, you can see dogs' heads poking out of windows or bobbing up and down in the bed of a truck, but I could see nothing. I got a little nervous, wishing I hadn't decided to stay at the park all alone with my dog. But the park is a good 30 min. away from our apartment. Then I started wondering how weird it would be if someone did show up with their dog--but it was a guy. Just a guy and me and our dogs. How awkward.

Then it happened. A girl...woman, I guess, about my age or a little older, climbed from the car holding the cutest weimeraner puppy. An older man followed her. When they entered the park, Annie ran up in excitement to nose little Lexi, a puppy just her size (though 3 months younger). What followed was Annie's best play experience to date. Annie and Lexi ran, wrestled, and frolicked for a good 45 min. until her owner (Chris), Chris' dad, and I could not take the cold any longer. Another weird thing: I found out Chris is also a teacher but at an innercity public school.

So why have I written so much about so little? I don't know. It just was an incident that made me think. I made waffles this weekend. I went to church by myself and had to talk to people I don't usually talk to--because I have Evan. I watched movies Evan might have--um, would have--laughed at. I am so blessed to have Evan, so blessed to have my job. But sometimes I guess I need to just be. And I did.

Whoops

2006-02-11T19:49:00.000-08:00

Apparently, it wasn't mountain cedar. It was a virus. Now Evan has it. Whoops. As he so aptly pointed out, allergies aren't contagious. I don't know....mountain cedar seems pretty powerful.

Life lately:
-Went to an Episcopal "Girls' Night Out" with the ladies from my church. Let's just say I was the only "girl" there, and the woman closest to my age was in her forties. But I had a great time drinking mimosa (yum!), eating cheesecake, and talking.

-Need a break from schoool (as usual). Teaching my sophomores how to write a research paper is a headache. But I did teach my favorite Flannery O'Conner story ("Parker's Back") to my juniors. I have to fill out a "letter of intent" for the school by Wednesday. I think I would like to come back, despite my qualms about teaching in general. I need a second year. I need to feel appreciated. And right now I do. The administration has told me they would cut me back to two preparations. That would be so nice.

-Took Annie to the dog park today. She's 30 pounds now! Unbelievable! We see the coolest breeds there. She played (aka was beaten up) by a Rhodesian Ridgeback. We also saw a huge Rotti named Zeus, a Great Pyrannese, two Great Danes, lots of pit bulls and boxers, etc.

Love to my friends who I think read this blog but don't post a response. Ah, how we lurk.

The Ten-Year Gauntlet

2006-02-08T16:17:00.000-08:00

I have met my match. It is called mountain cedar. Apparently, it's the spawn of Satan for anyone remotely allergic. I had made such headway in my allergies, "grown out of them" as my old allergist once told me. I managed what little sneezing tendencies I had towards mites and mold with a friendly Claritin look-alike.

Until this Texas winter. My eyes run, my nose runs, my head hurts, my back hurts. I go to school, come home and crash for two hours, get up and grade/plan until 11:30 pm, get up at 5:30 am and do it all over again. Everyone is sympathetic. "It lasts for about 10 years," they say. "And then you'll become immune." 10 years? Are you kidding me? I'll take some snow about now. Anything cold to lay against my raw, red nose.

I was going to write about serious matters as well, but that should be done when the writer is calm and rational (or in a rage of brilliance.) I, on the other hand, am just whiny. I will follow this up soon with something a little less...self-absorbed.

In the Mirror

2006-01-31T20:49:00.000-08:00

It's weird to look at the mirror and say, "I'm grown up."

What does that mean? How do you know when you actually get there?

Does it happen when you get a "real" job? All I know is, I'm not real sure I'm cut out to be a teacher, but here I am.

Does it happen when you find grey hairs? I have at least 4 and counting. At least I'm ahead of my great aunt Ruth, who went completely grey at age 19 only to lose her hair to chemo.

Does it happen when you "settle down" in a specific location, maybe with a specific someone? I'm in Texas with Evan...and...I'm supposed to be grown up?

Why I'm having doubts:
-I hate calling doctors and making appointments. Especially since I have new health care.
-I hate being called Mrs. Longfield and looking like I still belong in the 10th grade
-I hate tithing, balancing the checkbook, accounting for money spent, etc
-I'm weirded out by the idea that my mom just got a "life coach" to help her figure out how to take the next step in her life as an empty nester paying for my brother's college

I want to stop teaching and figure out for just a second how to do this whole adult business and feel responsible and secure. Because I miss being okay with the way I am.

Do I want to just go back to being a kid? No, not really. My poor high schoolers are painful enough to watch on a daily basis.

I just feel a little lost.

Good-byes...and Hellos

2006-01-30T14:50:00.000-08:00

Today I feel a little melancholy at the thought of these losses

-Loss of my chowing down on sweets and peanut butter as I try to get back in shape

-Loss of two students who stole a test from another teacher's drawer and made copies for everyone (they all missed the same two answers...go figure!)

-Loss of some of my previous faith identity as Evan and I prepare to join St. Mark's Episcopal Church (Funny how I never called myself a Christian Church/Church of Christ person as much as I loved Hopwood. Assembly of God is just in my blood--for good and ill--don't hold it against me)

But all in all...I see an equal number of gains

-Looking and feeling better

-The knowledge that my former students have learned an invaluable lesson that they will take with them to new schools

-An accepting body of believers who struggle with the frustrations and questions of Christianity just as much as I do

That's where I am right now.

Up the Wall and Into a House

2006-01-25T14:31:00.000-08:00

Right now I'm waiting for a girl to finish a make-up test. So I will write something.

I had a funny moment today in my study hall. I have a study hall of about 45 sophomores in the main gym. Sometimes they sit on the bleachers. Sometimes on the floor. I sit in a metal folding chair and grade...and talk to them.

Today one girl needed help writing notes for an in-class essay. The essay centered around Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall." I helped the girl a few minutes then retreated back to my chair to keep grading. A minute later, she shouted, "Mrs. Longfield! What's "abreast" mean?

"Oppressed?"

"No. Abreast."

By then everyone was staring at her, so I walked back over and peered at her copy of the poem. "Oh. Abreast," I said. "It means side by side."

"I know," a boy piped in. "That's why we call them breasts."

"Thanks, Bill," I said.

We all had a good laugh.

On a different note, Evan and I have been discussing what we want to do when our lease is up.

1 bedroom apartment + 1 puppy = crazy pent-up energy

We really need a yard. Should we buy a house? Or rent a house? How long do we want to stay in San Antonio? I could see us being here for....well, forever. But will we? What if Evan and I really do go to grad school?

For now, we like our apartment complex and almost everyone has a dog.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

R.I.P. Mike Twist

2006-01-23T15:58:00.000-08:00

A window into my thoughts:

We live off of Orsinger Road. A narrow road with woods and apartment buildings and a couple of neighborhoods. A narrow road with railroad tracks and cars that drive way too fast. And no shoulder. If you walk past the forest area where deer frolic and people come to dump their trash, you will see a white cross placed against a tree. You will see candles with the names of saints and the words R.I.P. Mike Twist. You will see velvet roses and a small poem taped to the tree.

He died in June. A month before we even came to San Antonio. He was seventeen. He had just graduated from a Catholic high school (not mine). His teachers and classmates called him funny, a great soccer player, a good guitar player, a faithful friend. He was driving an SUV...speeding down Orsinger Lane with three of his friends. He vaulted over the railroad tracks, lost control, and slammed into that fated tree.

And was pronounced dead at the scene. His friends all survived.

So why do I tell this story? Who is Mike Twist to me? Perhaps a shadow lurking in the woods, feeding the deer, and talking to God. Perhaps he reminds me of my own mortality and the fragility of life. He reminds me to bless the fourteen-year-olds, fifteen-year-olds, sixteen-year-olds, and seventeen-year-olds I teach. To make their life better. And learn from them.

Yes, Mike Twist, Rest in Peace.

Life Today

2006-01-22T17:25:00.000-08:00

It's been a different sort of week. I thought it would be an easy week due to getting Monday off from school. It wasn't. The students seemed off-kilter because of the shortened week. They acted even more hormonal than usual. Not as bad as seventh graders in my opinion. I'll take thirty fifteen-year-old to thirty twelve-year-olds any day. Well, unless we're singing a song or reading a play.

Anyway, on Thursday night Evan and I went to our first "symposium" group. We've been attending St. Mark's Episcopal Church for a few months now and decided to join in on a book study group. We're reading A Generous Orthodoxy. It's very thought-provoking so far. It addresses a lot of disillusionment I've felt with the church, Christians in general, and myself in particular. We're supposed to be in a small group that meets on the night and at the location most convenient to us. We do meet on our correct night, but there are about 20 people in the group.

The majority are women between the ages of 50 and 75. There is a couple in their thirties and a couple in their forties. The couple in their forties lead worship for the Sunday service Evan and I attend. This couple also comes from some Pentacostal background, and they love that I know where they're coming from. A woman in her seventies and a guy in his forties or fifties run the symposium.

I like the way it's run--the openness of discussion, tolerance, etc. Boy are they tolerant. I feel way conservative in this bunch. I think that's good. Evan and I needed something like this. Evan can be philosophical and I can be emotional (not too emotional, I promise). The guy moderator talked to Evan and me after class. He asked us how come we went to church. After all, we are in that 18-30 year-old black hole. We know few people our age at our church. Or many churches for that matter.

How do you answer a question like that? I don't go because I've always gone? Or do I? Maybe I just can't give up hope. That I'll find a place to belong. A place to meet God with broken people like me. I don't know. Maybe I'm afraid to stop. Afraid I'd never go back. It made me think.

And for emotional me...that's a good thing.

2006-01-21T06:55:00.000-08:00

I miss girlfriends. These are pictures of my four best girlfriends in Texas. The ones at the table with me are the coolest sisters-in-law in the world--Alice and Chandra. I just wish we didn't all live such busy lives. Also, Chandra lives in Houston. Alice lives here in San Antonio, but she's pretty busy finishing her master's thesis. Last night Evan's parents took Alice, her husband, Daniel, Evan, and me out to eat to celebrate Alice's new job. Anyway, I'm inspired to be sort of related to such strong women. This picture was taken at our summer beach vacation in 2005 (Alice is the one in the middle; Chandra is on the right).

The other two gals (the blond schoolgirl and the witch) are my best teacher friends. The blond is Kate, another English teacher at the Catholic school where I teach. The witch is Melanie, a theology teacher there. We all moved to San Antonio this year. Kate came from Dallas-Fort Worth (a few hours away) while Melanie came all the way from Cleveland, OH. It's so nice to have good teacher friends. We hang out all the time on the weekends, too. My puppy Annie adores Kate's pugs, Boomer and Tuxes. Annie WANTS to play with Melanie's cat, Mia, but Mia isn't so interested. The pictures are from Homecoming week. My students were so disconcerted to see me dressed as a student they could hardly pay attention! :)

I was so spoiled in IN and in TN with all my girlfriends. Now we live all over the US. At least I have four friends here. The rest of you need to come visit!

2006-01-18T20:02:00.000-08:00

As promised:

The woman sat alone in the room. The fading light had given way to a murky darkness the color of the river flowing past. How long had she sat here humming a distant melody? Some broken words that fit the haunting notes from her dry lips. She wore a woolen coat. Not so much for warmth but for protection. It protected her from the knowledge that someday she would have to leave this room. Perhaps when the pale light flooded the gray-cloaked sky. Perhaps when night had simply fallen over the light. For three days she had sat here. The light, the darkness. The glow, the fading. The murmur of the river that reminded her of life outside these walls of solace. The pain of choosing to experience. Choosing to accept. She was not yet there. Not yet able to beckon the pain back into her numbed mind. Her stomach had stopped its yelps of hunger and crouched like a child within her. Waiting for release. Three of them waited with her on the first day. The sun high in the sky. Her hair fresh from washing. Her eyes bright with hope. Two waited on the second day. Her small hands clenched in her lap. None on this day--the third. She closed her eyes. Where had they gone? How long had she been alone? How long had she avoided the knowledge, the pain?

2006-01-18T15:57:00.000-08:00

A Beginning and a Middle -- Part I

First of all, if you are reading this I commend you. You didn't give up hope in me writing again someday. It's not that I didn't have things to write or the time to write them. It's just easier to not say than say most times. Which seems strange for a writer. I guess I write more without writing. Sky writing. Dream writing. It all amounts to the same thing, though.

I am afraid of finishing.

So I don't continue. Not a blog, Not writing in general. Not playing the piano. Or singing in a choir. Or wearing my mouthguard. Or reading the Bible. Or painting my toenails. Or exercising.

It's easier to say....I want to post a picture, but Apple is making me mad (don't tell Evan). Or I don't have good ideas for writing. Or I'm done with music. Or I feel like my jaw is being held together by a monster. Or I'll read it tomorrow....or the next day. Or I hate the smell of nail polish remover anyway. Or I like eating ice cream better than running:)

The truth is I miss doing something other than planning lessons and grading papers. I miss the smell of grass on a soccer field. I miss singing three-part (or seven-part) harmony. I miss knowing I'm following the dentist's orders and being nice to my teeth. I miss God. I miss pink toes. And I miss the sound of my breath....in and out....as I run. I really miss my brother and capguns and my parents and playing Boggle.

I wrote something this week that I....in all honesty....will not finish.

I will post it tonight...when Evan brings back the laptop.

And maybe I will post something cheerier too. After all, I have a lot of blogging to make up for.

2005-11-12T14:27:00.000-08:00

Saturday is my only really stress-free day. And usually, I find some way to make it stressful. I get in all-out cleaning moods. Evan and I tried something today where we set a timer for 5 minutes and each of us takes a room to clean and straighten for that amount of time. When 5 minutes is up, we swap rooms and set the timer again. It worked really well. Made cleaning kind of seem like a game. Amy Clutterbuster of the World and Evan Dishloader Extraordinaire take on their apartment!

So, my life is obviously so lame I am writing about cleaning! Argh. Actually, I am a proud parent of our teething, ever-growing puppy who actually earned a "Wonder Dog" ranking on every skill she learned in puppy class. We had our last class this Wednesday. We sure are going to miss the boxer, Sarge, the mastiff, Lily, the weimeraner, Bella, and the veizla, Boomer. But I must say, our pale-faced mutt was the pride, joy, and mascot of the class. We hope to start in the next level of classes in January. I will live out my dreams of agility competitions with her.....:0)

Last but not least in this mundane entry, here is my student conversation/quote of the week:

Student #1: Mrs. Longfield, are you a hippie?

Me: Why? Do I seem like a hippie?

Student #1: Yes.

Student #2: All English teachers are hippies!

I think they may have a point!

2005-11-06T16:31:00.000-08:00

So....here I am telling Annie that no she can't go...
Amy Draft Delete

So....here I am telling Annie that no she can't go outside for the fifth time in two hours. She just wants to see the new Jack Russell puppy....or the English bulldog....or the boxer/pit bull mix...or....ok, so we have a lot of dogs in our apartment complex.

...so I gave in and let her out. I peeked around the corner and spotted the full-fledged pit bull. I won't ever forget the first time I encountered him. He came out of nowhere--large and unleashed. After my experience with Roy and Smoky (Longfield pit bull pets), I expected him to swallow Annie in one bite. But his owner, a twenties-something male in a basketball jersey, with a cigarette dangling from his lip, quickly reassured me.

Pit Bull Owner (lazily, giving me the once-over): It's ok. Hades is cool. He's cool.

Me (doubtfully as the pit bull, apparently named Hades, steps closer to sniff Annie's female areas): Um...all right. What a pretty dog.

Pit Bull Owner: Thanks. Come on, Hades.

So, I suppose I could have let Annie and Hades nose each other a little tonight. But I don't know his nighttime personality. I think I'll keep it that way.

On another note, how do you explain to high school freshmen that Odysseus was not really faithful to Penelope, but then again he kind of was? How do you say no to a goddess? Poor Penelope. Poor naive children I get to teach the Odyssey to. And next year they get Oedipus. And then The Scarlet Letter. Is all good literature about sex?

And yes, Grete, Pear Tree refers to both Hurston and Mansfield: Their Eyes Were Watching God and "Bliss". Two of my favorites.

2005-11-06T13:26:00.000-08:00

So, since I don't write enough (other than comments on essays I've graded or outlines for handouts), I decided to join the bloggers of the world. Pear Tree, of course, refers to not one, but two, literary symbols in works of feminist literature. Can you name the story or the book that inspired me?

Right now my life consists of my very funny and lovable husband, our rowdy and sweet puppy, and the endless work, pain, and joy that I call the life of a teacher. I will elaborate shortly, but for now I will just say that God definitely has Evan, Annie, and me in a great state (gotta love Texas for all its brazen beauty!) with wonderful family nearby. We both feel purposeful in our jobs. It's not perfect--I'm sure I'll find something to rant about soon--but it's good. God bless. :)