"Smile"

from "Smile" written and sung by Uncle Kracker (One of these days I'll be able to have actual music on here!)

You're better than the best
I'm lucky just to linger in your life
Cooler than the flip side of my pillow that's right
Completely unaware
Nothing can compare to where you send me
Lets me know that it's ok yeah it's ok
And the moments when my good times start to fade

Chorus:
You make me smile like the sun
Fall out of bed
Sing like a bird
Dizzy in my head
Spin like a record
Crazy on a Sunday night
You make me dance like a fool
Forget how to breathe
Shine like gold
Buzz like a bee
Just the thought of you can drive me wild
Ohh you make me smile

Even when you're gone
Somehow you come along
Just like a flower poking through the sidewalk crack and just like that
You steal away the rain and just like that

You make me smile like the sun . . . (chorus)

Don't know how I lived without you
Cuz every time that I get around you
I see the best of me inside your eyes
You make me dance like a fool
Forget how to breathe
Shine like gold
Buzz like a bee
Just the thought of you can drive me wild

You make me smile like the sun . . .(chorus)

I like this expression:"Cooler than the flip side of my pillow"--Who in my generation can't remember a hot night when we flipped our pillows over?
Then there's "Somehow you come along just like a flower poking through the sidewalk"  I like that image.

Uncle Kracker isn't someone I listen to regularly---the only time is when I'm watching CMT (Country Music T??? not sure what the T stands for--television? tunes?) and a video featuring him comes on.  He was in a video with Kenny Chesney about 6 years ago.  He resurfaced on country  TV and I suppose country radio.  I do like this song---it has an upbeat, downright happy tune to it.
One of my students played it as his song presentation.  I needed the lift that it gave me.  We're almost through regular classes---Tuesday is the last day.  Wed. and Thurs. are finals with Friday being a make-up day.  Then we teachers come back for Monday to close out the year.  Ahhh---I'm ready!

Anyhow, here's some pics of two of my grandchildren who make me smile.


The Irish Lass is posing like the little girls do a silly show called Toddlers and Tiaras.  She turned 3  this month.

Dillon turned 5 this month.  Their birthdays are in the same week, so we celebrated both on a Sunday afternoon.

I don't know this girl's name.  She is a friend of one of my grandchildren.  The cakes were especially cool this year.  There's a wonderful family owned and operated bakery in the town where my son and family live ( I used to live there in "my other life" as I call it).  They make the best cakes, cookies, donuts, etc.---just mouth-watering outstanding.  You can tell what the kids are "into" by their cakes: Spider Man and Princesses.

Below is the man who still makes me smile.   I knew I loved him back in high school, but too much was against us.  The last time we "dated" was when we were 19.  We got back together at age 41 and married at 44.   We celebrate 12 years this July.

Songs--Country's ahead!

So far country is ahead and as we live in the country that's appropriate!

My English III (general English for juniors)class has a poetry project for their final.  They have to have poems (of course), but they also have to have one song.   For a laid-back presentation, each student has to bring in his/her song, play it for the class, and talk about it: what it means, why he/she likes it, why/when it's played, and anything else.  I have 4 classes of presentations, but this is the only class doing songs.
The list so far: "Call Me" by Shine Down, "Welcome to the Jungle" by by Guns and Roses, "Subterranean Homesick Blues" by Bob Dylan, "He Stopped Loving Her Today" by George Jones (with an accompanying tear-jerker for real story), "Imagine" by John Lennon, and we ended that day with some song by Dwayne---I can't find the paper with the info on it--this was my least favorite, but it didn't have any cuss words or the n -word which I guess is a major accomplishment for Dwayne.
Today began with "Black Cat" by (I think) May Day---she didn't give me the lyrics and I didn't have a clue what they were saying--I'm open to different types, but I need to know what the words are!
Then:"A Letter to Me" by Brad Paisley, "Smile" by Uncle Kracker, "Every Step I Take"--the rap version, "Do I?" by Luke Bryan (this was presented by a young mother of a 5 month old boy--she lives with her boyfriend who is actually "the best thing to come along" for her in her life--but it bothered me that she's already asking herself the questions in this song), "Long Black Train" by Josh Turner, "Backwoods" by Justin Moore, and then we ended with "Lucy" by Skillet and "Dicey's Song" by Allen Jackson.  These two were in memory of Lexi--the girl we lost in Feb.--J. was one of Lexi's two closest friends.  And yes, I teared up majorly.
So far the most of one type is country, which I happen to like.  I do like some of Guns and Roses songs so that didn't bother me nearly as much as some thought it would.  However, I couldn't take more than one song of Dwayne's in a class period!  Shine Down was cool and the rap version of "Every Step I Take" is one I'm familiar with and like. "Black Cat" wasn't particularly pleasing to my ears, but "Lucy" was.  As for "Imagine," does anyone not like that song?
 I recently heard "Smile" on CMT's Countdown and liked it.   The other country songs I know and like.  Two more days to go.  This period is actually a stress buster right now.
Just thought I'd share.

Ooops, I forgot Dylan!  How I could forget him, I don't know!  Seriously, my brother Roy was into Dylan big time and I grew up on his songs, so I was pleased to have him represented.
Also, please excuse my slang and butchering of the English language.  I'm one exhausted English teacher who is tripping over her own words.

It all started with a sore.

It all started with a sore on the side of his face.  I took him in to the vet and it turned out to be just a sore that he had continually scratched because it itched.  The vet was astounded at this 22 lbs and promptly put him on a diet. I gradually weaned him off his usual full bowl all day long to just 1 cup of  food a day with a spoonful of canned food at night.  I also blended in the low fat food until he was eating only that.  Then I switched to the low fat canned food.  He lost weight---success.  But. . . then he kept losing.  Three people in a row commented on how skinny he was.  The third was my husband who hadn't been up here for 2 weeks.  He thought that he was bony ,and that she was now bigger than he was.  He thought that wasn't right because she was a smaller cat ("she" is his sister, Scruffy).  So I called the vet and told her how much he had lost.  She was not concerned, but said that I could add more food or give him some "fatter" food.  I did both. He LOST MORE WEIGHT.  He started staying on the floor---sleeping there instead of up on the couch, bed or the dresser downstairs in the basement.   Then one day I came home to find him lying in the shower in the basement by his water bowls.  They had both drunk more water with this new food which was normal.  But he was craving the water more than she.  Plus the shower retains some water, so he was actually lying in water.  I picked him up and brought him upstairs from the basement.  As he lie on my lap, I realized his head was hot ---his ears and forehead were so warm, it was uncomfortable to keep my hand there.  I called the vet and made an appointment and prayed the illness was fixable and that he wouldn't die between now and the appt.
We made it to the vet.  The symptoms were consistent, but she wanted to take blood work.  The tests confirmed her suspicions---George was diabetic.  I really like the woman vet; she has two cats of her own and two that live at the vet's office.  She loves my cats, esp. George.  She explained everything to me after first asking me how I felt about needles.  Needles don't bother me.   So after practicing injecting him with saline, I took him home loaded with needles, a dispenser, a bottle of insulin, and new high protein food.
He loves the food and is eating much better.  He's not as thirsty and is now meowing again.  I've given him his two shots today without any problems.

My kids are grown, married, and have kids of their own, of whom I'm not necessary in the daily care .  While growing up, my kids gave me plenty of practice in nursing. My son broke 15 bones(skateboarding, basketball, jungle gym, falling down the steps when he was two,etc.) and my daughter topped him by breaking her neck in a car accident.  He had continual ear infections.  She had bronchial asthma which didn't get diagnosed until she was 8, so there was a lot more sickness before that diagnosis.  Antibiotics were almost a staple in our house.  I got used to trips to the ER and sleeping in uncomfortable chairs in a hospital room.  Both kids each had a stay in a Children's hospital--she actually had two.   She had a routine operation at age 2 that went wrong in so many ways.  Then came the long 6 hour one from which she didn't readily wake up(the one to fix her neck and her broken leg).
But we've moved on to another stage of our lives where routine care of them isn't necessary. So as far as nursing sick "kids," I thought those days were over.  (But I guess in reality they are never over because if one of my kids or one of the grandkids got really sick and needed me, I'd take family leave and be there to help out. Plus the worrying and praying that comes with motherhood doesn't stop when they reach a certain age. The morning that she had a C-section after inducement had failed was long and nerve-racking. She always had complications, so it was tough on all of us. Her dad and stepmother and his sets of parents and stepparents were there in Texas, but I was at school here in Ohio.  We had decided that she'd need me more once she got home with the baby, which was true.  But that morning when the doctor decided a planned c-section was much better than an emergency one, I doubted the initial decision about me going down later.  A long morning it was!  Everything turned out great---for the first time there were no complications.)

However, NOW I will be giving insulin shots to a cat possibly for years.  I have to chuckle (I'm daily thankful for my sense of humor).   Just when I need life to be a bit simpler, it gets more complicated.  I will be spending time this summer helping my husband down in Cinci, so that he can move up here.  George does not travel well.  You haven't lived until you've had a cat squalling for 4 hours while you're both "trapped" in a car!  He doesn't take pills well--what cat does? So giving him medicine to make him sleepy isn't really an option.  We will have to find someone willing to give him insulin shots.  I know the present "care-taker" won't do it---she'll run at the mention of a needle.  Sooooo---time will tell.  Meanwhile, I'm thankful he's on the road to recovery.   I'm also glad I don't mind needles.

The man who traveled 9 hours to give "one hour of grace"

Grace.  Our heavenly Father has it.  My earthly father had it.  Grace: goodwill, favor; mercy or pardon; the favor and love of God.

I was 19 and attending Asbury College in Wilmore, Ky. 
My dad and mom had packed up my brothers at a young age, left the comfort and security of a big extended family in Steubenville, Ohio, and set up housekeeping in the G.I. barracks at this same college.  My father was 27 and mother was 28.  They had given their lives to Jesus and heard the calling of God on dad to be a minister.  You see: he had made a deal with God in a stark, freezing, lice-ridden, filthy barracks in a German prison camp where he spent 4 months after being captured in the Battle of the Bulge.  God kept His end of the deal and when He reminded my dad, then dad kept his end.

I was born during their stay at Asbury College.  Mom was bed-ridden with rheumatic fever; Dad was working 3 jobs and attending Asbury full-time.  Dad barely graduated high school, but mom badgered the dean until he permitted Dad to enter on probation.  He got off that in his first semester and didn't look back. I've heard the stories so many times, but they don't get old. God's grace fell on them numerous times starting with that battle in Germany.
The article I still have reads:
         Berlin broadcast today a report that one American division, described as the 106th infantry,
        had been virtually wiped out.  It said the division had 11,800 men Dec.16, but 8 days later
       'consisted of 212 men who are wandering about the Ardennes and are perishing in a snowstorm.'
        The enemy asserted 'most of the men came from Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Ohio.'
My mother's handwriting below it: "This was my first knowledge that Roy was no longer safe in England."

Dad had told mom, " If I come up missing, don't assume I'm dead; assume I'm a prisoner." And he was.  He suffered frost bite up to his knees that plagued him to his death.  But he survived and as a result ultimately spent a lifetime doing his utmost to spread the news of  God's grace.

Well, this preacher's kid strayed some.  I did manage to end up at my dad's college, but I cried when I got the list of rules in the mail.  I thought I'd get kicked out the first semester.  And I should have.  But God's grace intervened.  In response to His grace, I decided to recommit my life to Christ.  I called and told my parents--they were each on a separate phone.  Dad asked me if I wanted him to be there.  I remember thinking, "What a stupid question!"  After all-- the man was 4 1/2 hours away!  I told him yes, but that I understood he couldn't be there and that I'd be okay.  I had a guy friend who would pray with me the next day.  One girl persistently tried to get me to let her lead me back, but I was adamant.
The next day was a free day for us.  I'm a night person and everyone knew that I did my homework until the wee hours of the morning and then made up the sleep sometime during the day.  EVERYONE knew not to call me on Monday mornings (our free of classes day)!  But lo and behold, there was a pounding on my door and a voice proclaiming my mom was on the phone.  I stumbled out of bed and down the hall to the one telephone.  I was not happy.  But mom's words immediately quelled my anger.  She said, "Honey, I just had to get hold of you.  Your dad's on his way, but he only has an hour.  He canceled one meeting, but  he has to be at the other one(and he really did).  So don't leave."
Talk about stunned. I don't remember anything between that moment and the moment I knelt with my dad at the college chapel's altar.  Before I prayed my prayer of rededicating my life to God/Christ/the Holy Spirit, my dad took my hand and said, "Now I imagine you have done some things you're not happy about.  But --and I mean this--that stuff is between you and God.  No one else. Not me, your mom, NO ONE ---JUST GOD."  Grace.  God's and my dad's.  We prayed and then we went to the cafeteria to eat.  He was there one hour folks.  Then he hugged me like only he could, got back in his car, and drove 4 1/2 hours back to southeastern Ohio. God's grace was alive and well in a man called "Big Roy."

  Dad had a "bucket list" before the movie made it a popular term.  He had his list of things he wanted to do and people and places he wanted to see before he died.  I was laid off my job for a year.  Dad and I became road buddies with me driving and him clutching a "hold handle" and praying. :)  We both sensed that we only had that year and we were right.

A cold, rainy day in Washington, D. C.  my husband and I drove Dad to one the home of one of my brothers near D.C. and together--he and his wife and my husband and I took Dad to see the war monuments---most importantly the WWII monument. 

He was thrilled despite the weather.

I have been blessed with so many wonderful moments that are now precious memories.

I just shared two of them with you. 

For more on grace visit the blog carnival.

The older of my two older brothers (I'm the only girl and the "baby") with his wife and Dad.

Do you see Dad laughing? He found joy in everything--even a chilly day in D. C.  My brother is pretending to race! 

It takes guts

It takes guts to be different when you're in high school, especially when that high school's student count barely reaches 400.

In this time of barely covering "your crack" jeans, layered tanks --skinny and long--to cover what flesh the jeans don't, light outer layers with a dark colored bra lurking underneath, cleavage out the wazoo, long straight highlighted hair or long scrunched hair, "perfect" make-up, and the standard big purse with the latest techno phone, what do you do when confronted with this?

Your mouth stretches into a wide genuine smile, a chuckgurgles up from your throat,  your eyes sparkle as they wink, your hands give a thumbs up, and then you say something like "Way to go!" 

As a teacher you do everything possible to encourage this student to continue to be herself in this cookie cutter world called high school.

Of utmost importance is that she knows someone in the adult world thinks she's cool and brave and smart and that she can succeed in whatever way she wants---

that being different is more than okay---it's terrific!

(I was in my forties before I figured that out!)

Crazy knee socks and patterned shorts with a t-shirt that may match and then again may not--these are her signature---these help express who she is,

and she and her outfits assure me of at least

one grin every day.

Sat. night at the prom, I was grinning before she turned and saw me.

Her eyes lit up and she grinned back.

I am a God-pleaser, not a people-pleaser.  I obey God before man.

Acts 5:29

I am not controlled by what people think of me.  As long as God is satisfied with me I am satisfied.

I Corinthians 4: 3-4

I don't try to be popular with people.  All I want is to do the will of God.

Galatians 1:10

All these scriptures are easier said than lived!

A Peek at the Prom

Last night was our country school's prom.  We had it in town in a different county--one that has a lot more to offer for eating, shopping, and having a prom.  The teacher in charge likes to think outside the box, so this year they tried a new venue rather than the usual convention center (not talking big city convention center, but big by country folks standards).  This place had a restaurant, a small banquet room, and a large event room.  We teachers always meet and have dinner first.  This year we could eat and then walk downstairs, through a door, and we were there--wonderful!

This is the lady in charge.  She's a dear friend of mine whose room is across from mine.  She's one of the pillars that holds this small school together and we're already wondering what we'll do when she retires in two or three years. 



















The theme was "A Night in the City" and was pulled off with  giant pained pictures of city scenes.  "Artists" at the local prison made the wood frames and then painted the pictures.  The canvases can be rolled up and saved for another year.  The frames were taken apart and can also be saved.  One of parents of one of the students on the committee works at the prison and said that this is a service the prison offers.  Wow---talented men!

Up on the balcony was a wooden Eiffel Tower where the pictures were taken.  The woman is the

while blouse is our art teacher and her senior son is in the blue vest.  Jackets were taken off soon after entering, and then shirts and ties and only vests, pants, and shoes remained.

 One of the most beautiful girls (definitely the most beautiful eyes) there and a true sweetheart.  She got the most votes for Prom Queen, but the high school has a rule that a girl (always a senior) can only be queen once and this young lady was our Homecoming Queen.  She may well have been our Sweetheart Queen too---that's how much the students like her.  She's kind and nice to everyone---I don't think there is a catty streak in her. 

She and I always meet in the hall on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings to compare notes about Dancing with the Stars and giggle.

Now here comes A. and J.---Lexi's best buddies.  They truly rocked the night away.

J. on left and A. on right.

A. on left and J. on right.

My "girls."

I stayed and helped my friend clean up.  It was a long night, but was worth the time and effort.  By the time I got down to our lake place and unwound enough to sleep, it was 2A.M.  To round out the weekend there was a Sunday afternoon birthday party for my son's two youngest.  I'm feeling a bit tired tonight!:)

A good tired.

One more pic before I go.

Three more of my junior girls.  Great students---smart and funny.  Don't you love B's azure dress?!  The skirt was so "ethereal" and fit for a princess.

What would she have worn?

We'll never know what she would have worn tomorrow night at the Prom.  We know it would have been sexy.  Someone would have whispered catty words of "Bit too tight, don't ya think?" or "What do you want to bet one of them falls out of the top of her dress before the night is out?"
But I would have loved the dress, told her she looked beautiful and meant it.  I would have turned a deaf ear to the cattiness. The Lexi's of this world will always bring out the cats. But thankfully that doesn't stop the Lexi's from being who they are.  Real, Honest, Irreverent, Reverent, Trusting, Caring for others, but not caring what others thought--well maybe caring and maybe hurting, but still determined to be themselves.
Tears well up in my eyes as I write this.  She was one of the students who made taking all the crud from some of the others worth it.  A hug, a wink, and that sound she made as if I was her horse and my world would shine brighter instantly.
She would have been beautiful and I would have been out there dancing with her and relishing that deep laugh of hers.
Instead the dance floor will be empty even when full.  I'll most likely end up holding her best friend as she sobs (and others will hold her too).  Just yesterday, I held A. in the hallway as tears flowed.   Then I found an empty room where we could talk. English teacher/mother--that's my title and I can't be the first one without being the latter).
Looking forward to tomorrow night, yet dreading it.  She should be there. 
Today I passed the cross they erected in the field where her car came to rest on that February morning.  It's white and plastered with messages--mine included.  The white makes sense--the black marker shows up.  But it should be neon pink or orange or purple or a combination---something no one would miss, just like no one would ever be in a room with her and not know she was there.  She loved bright colors; she loved life, and she lived her life to the fullest every day until her last when she took a curve too fast.
I had meant to take my camera to school that week.  For some reason I wanted a picture of her and me and one of her and her two BBF's.  Why? Did I sense something?  I don't know.  I do know that I didn't get those pictures and now I can't.  A lesson I hit and miss with as I maneuver this life of mine: When I get a strong feeling to do something, I need to DO IT!

Sometime next week I will post pictures of her BBF's and me.  You won't see the hole in the group hug--the gaping hole---that hole won't be visible even to our eyes. But we will FEEL it!  Oh how we will feel it!

My post about her death is here.

The principal suggested that the English teachers work with the students to  help them "write through this."

There are only two of us and I'm the one who had her in class.  So the task was mine.  She and her two best buddies sat in a back corner together.  I permitted that because they worked better and were much less disruptive if they were together.  So that first week after two weeks of being snowed in after her death, A. and J. worked on this bulletin board in the art room.  They weren't yet ready to sit in my room without her and I understood that.  Students are still adding to the bulletin board---I need to take another picture of it.

The last picture here is a blurry one I took of her memorial bulletin.  The picture was her class picture from last year.  The other one is more accurate--more recent.

Neither does her justice.  But I'm not sure any photo could capture the essence of Lexi. We'll never know.

Topsy Turvy

Wouldn't it be great if--

when life became topsy-turvy--

We could do a hand stand and all would be right again, simply in looking from that viewpoint?!

For once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord;

walk as children of Light.

Ephesians 6:8

 

God and Ma---and the Irish Lass

The Irish Lass--She's goin' keep God and Ma BUSY!

Ma and God

God gave us fingers--Ma says, "Use your fork."
God gave us voices---Ma says, " Don't scream."
Ma says eat broccoli, cereal and carrots.
But God gave us tasteys for maple ice cream.

God gave us fingers---Ma says, "Use your hanky."
God gave us puddles---Ma says, "Don't splash."
Ma says, "Be quiet, your father is sleeping."
But God gave us garbage can covers to crash.

God gave us fingers---Ma says, " Put your gloves on."
God gave us raindrops---Ma says, "don't get wet."
Ma says be careful, and don't get too near to
Those strange lovely dogs that God gave us to pet.

God gave us fingers---Ma says, "go wash 'em."
But God gave us coal bins and nice dirty bodies.
And I ain't too smart, but there's one thing for certain---
Either Ma's wrong or else God is.

Shel Silverstein from Where the Sidewalk Ends

Twas the night before Mother's Day

We were going to have a bonfire by my husband's dad's old barn--we now own the land and the barn.  But the wind whipped up and a storm was brewing.  Meanwhile the oldest grandchild was playing a chilly game of baseball in a near-by town.  So plans changed.  They went home to their warm house and we hopped in the car and went for a visit.
Lots of antics.  Lots of fun: laughing, picture taking, giggling, goofing off, picture taking, "Flip"recording, laughing---get the picture?!
However, I had asked my husband to please take a picture of me with each of the grandchildren.  He usually mans the video camera--his large one--and I snap the pictures.  Consequently I am rarely in any.  Not that I want to be in a lot, but I do want some record of me in all of this living.  So he agreed.

We have loads of funny pictures, but here are the posed ones.

                                                The Irish lass and me, Grandma B.

                                 The Little mother and Grandma B.

                                         The Big brother and Grandma B.
Little brother was feeling a bit cranky at first, but he did decide to be a part of the group pic.

    The Little brother, Smooch, Irish lass, Grandma B., Little mother, and Big brother.

M.--the mother who helped provide me with these wonderful grandkids.

                                    My son--the other half who contributed.

And last but not least, the man who took all the pictures of me---my loving husband with the 7 year-old who's always asking, "When is Papa M. going to move up here?"

 And a Happy Mother's Day to all!

Joy --a story of a man and a rose bush.

Joy

I experience joy in the beauty of a single rose

radiating vibrant color

expressing a man's love

for ME.

My father loved roses.  We had a huge bush near the sidewalk in front of the parsonage.  The First United Methodist Church of one small town had a massive Victorian lady whose duty was to shelter the various ministers and families who graced her rooms.

I loved that parsonage and have many wonderful memories of our  years there.  One of those memories is of the rose bush.  One year the bush was so overladen with roses that my dad used string and attached scissors to the bush along with a sign urging passersby to clip off a bloom to take with them.

Joy

He loved sharing anything and everything with others. He was also a romantic.  Combine the two and you get a man who always had at least one rose bush from which he would cut a single bud and put in a vase to light up my mother's face when she came to the breakfast table. 

Joy. 

My daughter commented in my recent post about my rose bushes that roses always reminds her of Papa Roy---my amazing father who exuded joy--joy in Christ--joy in being alive--joy in family and friends--- just simple Joy.

My husband promised my dad he would take good care of me.  We were privileged to be able to say good-bye to dad.  He had his "moment" with each of us.  I'm not sure what all he told my husband, but on my birthday I can count on a beautiful arrangement of flowers with several glowing roses intertwined in the bouquet.

Joy. 

Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with Joy unspeakable and full of glory.

I Peter 1:8

For more on joy, check out http://www.bridgetchumbley.com/.

Ahhhh---The Promise of Roses!

I love roses, but only have two bushes in this present dwelling's yard.   I find growing them sometimes frustrating (bugs, blight,etc.), but once those buds bloom, I smile and sigh a sigh of bliss.

These two pictures, the one above and the one below, were taken of my biggest rose bush yesterday, May 2, 2010.

The long trailing vines you see in the back of  the rose bush and sticking through it belongs to my climatis that
I hadn't yet tied to the post.
               This picture was taken right after Easter.

This one was taken not long before Easter.

I took a close up of the beginning of the sprouting before Easter.

Great Progress!

"I don't know whether nice people tend to grow roses

or

growing roses makes people nice."

A. Browne.