back to work

It's good to be back to work. (Real, getting-paid-a-bit, not-for-family work) I made my re-entrance to the daycare with the foot of elephant for 'jungle week'. Nothing can make a person more popular with a seven-year-old than the severed appendage of a pachyderm. Two-year-olds, however, will have little to do with an elephant's foot - no matter how interesting a picture it may provide.
Both of them did wash their hands prior to eating breakfast.

karibu

Pastor Jack told of a door plaque which quips:

"If you're here to see me,
come right in;
If you're here to see my house,
please make an appointment."

I thought this was wonderful and I vowed to make such a plaque should I one day have a house.
Now I am facing the fact that not only have appointments been made - but we have invited everyone to come see the house (if I've missed you - let me know). This open invitation to our open house brings a whole new level to my definition of clean and presentable. After cleaning today for about five hours I was unsure of any difference in the amount that needs to be done - at this rate, by the 30th I will not be presentable, but the house may be.
All this stress is just funny in light of the fact that I do not, technically, have all of my walls. But I am bound and determined not to have spider webs inhabiting the sheet rocked and insulation packed corners.
I suppose the saddest possible ending to this tale would be sitting about on Saturday with no one coming - and not even a spider to talk to.

Written in the sky

Two o'clock this morning I arrived home bleary-eyed and eager to fall into bed for at least 8 hours. Five-thirty this morning I was awake and wondering which part of me didn't get the sleep memo. I did get to share a bit of the highlights of the vacation with Mom and Dad before they left for work. I didn't have to be to work until 9:30 so I went back to bed, which didn't really work. I did get to work this morning after getting back to the computer - checking emails and deleting more than half of the hundred messages waiting for me and downloading more than 500 pictures from Virginia.
The week was wonderful. Grandma and I were able to spend hours in conversation. With no schedule (other than my wanting to eat about every 3 hours), we were able to sit at the kitchen table for hours and let topics come and go as whims took us. We talked about cousins, uncles, aunts, my Grandfather (whom I had barely known), teaching, theology, authors, American history, grammar, and our dogs. The entire week was a gift. It was a relaxing vacation, photo opportunity, and delightfully blessed time spent away from the demands of my existence. Blessings abounded in all areas. I was able to complete about an eighth of my new cross-stitch, have been 'commissioned' do make calendars of the farm for the family, and simply rest on all levels before the demands of the summer. I didn't realize how much is 'hanging over my head' around here until I returned to the house today to all that needs to be cleaned up, organized, filed, scanned, painted, or built, not to mention - swept, scrubbed, or dusted.
I will also be returning to work - where I can find it. I will being doing whatever I can at the daycare - painting, cooking, changing diapers (perhaps not in that order), helping on the farm, and hopefully finishing some of the basement. I have come home feeling that paint on the walls could be a nice addition - even set off my photos a bit. I only hope that I don't lose momentum. This evening's sky and the message therein.

school's out for summer

School's out
just out
I'm done
All I have left to do is scan and load what I did so I can prove I did it and
it will only be confirming that
I'm done.

Grandma is flying me to her home to visit for a week and a half. I leave tomorrow morning early. So I should go to bed so in the morning I can remember what I've forgotten. I will not be remembering my computer or books about grabbing students by their brains, or how to talk to students so they will want to make the best of their educations, or teaching to change lives, or the hope of discipline or discipline of hope, or using love and logic to help children develop attention and behavior skills or strategies for all of the above.
These I have not forgotten, but I am not bringing them for just this week.

Did I mention?

I'm done

last day

(click the picture to get a better idea of how photogenic they truly are)

This is the middle school class holding their final recycle projects. They did a great job with their projects, but I think they were in such rambunctious moods for more reasons than that. The true beauty of this picture is that their personalities are as present in this shot as they are in class. (Of the three shots I got - this is the only one that all of them are visible.) They were a joy to teach and if, on any given day, I thought I was tired at the top of the day I left that class energized (and hungry) and ready to tackle the rest of the day. They were challenging and thought-provoking. They forgave me for my shortcomings, misspellings, and miss-counting. All-in-all they were a wonderful group of kids to teach through an introduction to teaching. With an introduction like theirs - the whole concept could be considered worth it all. This last few weeks of school I have even ceased sweating up a storm (rather literally) through this class time. I don't know if I should thank Mitchum or the kids.
There are pictured in this photo the empty Mountain Dew bottles that they downed after checking half the items off of today's to-do list. I know that "sugar does not make kids hyper" but this statement is not based on observation or experience. In any case, I do not recommend sugar on the last day in the classroom.

loved anyway

Pene is special to all of us - in so many ways.

beautiful menace

Perhaps 'menace' is a bit strong a word, but not good for the roses in any sense. Perhaps 'beautiful' is a bit strong as well. It sounded poetic though.

teaching in rural Wisconsin

It is only teaching in rural Wisconsin that you would hear this,
"I spent all of last period blow-drying my squirrel."

For a week now the hallways have smelt of dead fish - compliments of the same taxidermy class that requires blow drying squirrels. I have been told that if you need the hair on your squirrel to stand up a bit, mousse works well.

We were encouraged in our university courses to time labs that emit delectable aromas for important advertising days like the day that students sign up for their next year's classes -
apparently the ag teachers aren't worried about declining enrollments.

Tanzania choirs

Choir in Mgori church where Mom grew up
The music and the people were both truly beautiful.



Another choir, this one with electic keyboard accompaniment.

Sheryl communicating with rutting wildebeest

This is one of the photos that I took at the same time. We call it 'Wildeboost Peep'.

pillow weight

"...If your pillow is six years old -- which is apparently about the average age for a pillow -- it has been estimated that one-tenth of its weight will be made up of "sloughed skin, living mites, dead mites and mite dung,"to quote the man who did the measuring." (Short History, pg 365)
So,if you happen to be sharing pillows I suppose the fraction of its weight that is comprised of biological matter could be considerably higher. (I do actually sleep on the pillow that is beneath the two top pillows - but it is much older than six years old.)

why I teach

Today was a day that for every class I 'taught' I demonstrated another reason that I may not want to consider teaching as a career - it was just an 'off' day. So when I came home and had these pictures taken yesterday during Sunday School in my email, the timing was perfect. This is DJ and me. Every day that he is in Sunday School he encourages me with his answers to questions to the class. He is insightful and honest as only kids can be. He was also, this Sunday, helpful in letting me know that if I saw a black patrol car on the way to church it was definitely a sheriff's car. His mom told me later that he plans on working for the city police as well as the county and he is a bit concerned about where he will park all the vehicles.This picture looks good, even if I'm not looking at all. The class went out to the playground and we acted out our story for the day. (For reasons that will be apparent, we read the story prior to coming outside to act it out.)
One night after Christ had risen from the dead, the disciples fished all night, but with no luck. Many of the disciples had been fisherman before Christ had called them, so they were very good at it. But all night (according to the pictures in our book) they had caught only weeds and a shoe, but no fish. In the morning they saw Jesus on the shore. He told them to lower their nets on the other side of the boat. They listened to him and brought in a net-breaking haul. They had breakfast with Jesus and then went hiking up a mountain. From there he left them to rise into the air and go to heaven.
So we climbed up in the jungle-gym, our boat. We threw a laundry basket with ropes attached overboard and hauled up our 'catch'. It took us several tries and repositioning to the top of the boat before we learned how to haul up the 'net' without flipping it over before it could be reached over the railing (or under the platform). Because my helper, Josh, often seems to think on the same wavelength (or even slightly before the same wavelength) as me we also hauled up a shoe. Then Josh, with his great multi-tasking abilities, acted the role of Christ and stood on the shoreline. He told us to the throw the basket (er - net) over the other side of the 'boat'. I led the grumbling and the catty remarks that we knew how to fish and that if we had not caught anything all night it was not going to change now. We threw the basket and Josh changed roles again to load it up with the construction paper fish that we had made for the exercise. It was a windy day and many of our fish blew out of the net and had to be chased down. Somewhere in there I attempted to remind them to listen to Jesus even when it might not seem to make sense. Immediately following our grand 'catch of the day' one of the parents came and took pictures on our 'boat'. It was fiercely bright out (perhaps that is why the fish were not where we could net them), but I like the pictures.

from behind the daffodils

Just looking at this picture makes me feel ticks crawling all over me.

have you hugged a roly-poly today?

Today I learned that it has been hypothesized that life began to leave the seas to escape an impressive, ever-increasingly-efficient predator - the shark. I now know why my sister is so completely terrified of sharks, it has to do with her ancestors' exodus to land.

And I learned that the first animals to make the journey to the land were not, as is often supposed, fish with lungs (like mud puppies) or amphibians, but pill bugs (or roly-poly-type critters). It would seem that we owe our existence as terrestrial beings to the roly-polies. This is also confirmed by the fact that Sheryl and I liked to play with them when we were little. I'm not sure that they enjoyed being played with, but we didn't ask. I am now certain that they deserve more respect than to be roly-polied and flicked about.

So I've also learned that sharks eat roly-polies - I had no idea. Pretty big day for me. Give me a few more thousand years and I'll get the entire evolutionary process figured out.

(Short History of Nearly Everything, p. 338)

bein' human not always a liability

The days at school that seem to go the best are those days when I am so ridiculously human that we can all only throw up our hands and laugh. My whole aura of 'teacher-who-has-everything-under-control' is usually lost the first day when I stutter through sentences and deliver lines inverted and inside-out. I have also proven that an effective way of distracting the students from the fact that I am trying to remember all their names as I pass out their papers is to walk into desks and chairs and, if possible, trip over things that may or may not be there. Today I was asked to cut up leftover doughnuts into pieces small enough to provide a snack for a class of 20 students. I managed the cutting part of the task successfully - carrying the box of doughnut pieces into the classroom was not so successful. Turns out that the 30 second rule applies to all forms of pastry. (The students were well aware of the fact that I had dropped the doughnuts - there was no uninformed exposure to the possible germs on the floor.)
But for all my slip-ups and ample opportunities to bring smiles to the faces of those who happened to hear what I couldn't quite say - I graded the design class's first quiz/test today, and they have learned something. I can know that they learned more from lecture than the fact that when I was 7 years old I dressed up as Princess Leah (for Halloween) and paraded through town with braided buns on my head. (The link to class was that all the walls painted in colors that advance would make the room seem smaller - like the trash compactor in Star Wars.)

yeti poops

It is a good idea to run trials of the recipes that the students will be making in foods class. Especially when I can't remember the last time that I beat egg whites - or if I have ever beaten egg whites. Tomorrow, to get practice for making angel food cakes from scratch, the class will be making meringue cookies. So this evening I got to make meringue cookies. I'm not sure what they are supposed to look like, but I have renamed them yeti poops. It would have to be a small yeti. But I think a small yeti is as likely as a large yeti.

wimps and machos

I am now two and a half weeks into my second student teaching position in Bloomer, Wisconsin. Bloomer is a larger town than Boyceville, the jump rope capital of the world, and home to Main Street Cafe which makes really good pie. The drive is longer and coming home into the warm sunshine can be quite a challenge. If it weren't for the cost of gas and the fact that I am currently not working I would completely enjoy the drive. So far my car seems to be making an effort to keep me awake. I've had oil lights flashing, the cruise control resuming at will (not my will), and strange rumblings and bumpings in the suspension. Although I have appreciated the jolts back to wakefulness, I hope that the car perseveres past 250,000.

I am listening (during this lovely commute) to Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything (I heard the first chapter in January) and am learning a lot of terribly useful information. I now know (but may not remember next week) that there are subatomic particles called wimps and machos - neither of which may actually exist. There is a large crater impact in Manson, IA. Australia is sinking. You should not run around Yellowstone Park in the dark without a flashlight. Mount St. Helen erupted from its side. The catastrophic destruction of the earth is 'overdue' on several fronts (or faults, supervolcanos, or meteors showers). In the twinkling of an eye a landslide carried away the tent of the parents of a family, leaving the children sleeping and unhurt. Every year 30 000 metric tons of space dust land on earth. Scientists are now more certain about the age of the earth (~4.5 billion years) than they are about what causes gravity. (although there is ample evidence of its existence). It seems reasonable to assume however that in 4.5 billion years from now - we won't be here.

The more I examine the universe and study the details of its architecture, the more evidence I find that the universe is some sense must have known we were coming. --Freeman Dyson

changing gears

Come Monday I'll be student teaching at Bloomer Junior/High School rather than Boyceville. My cooperating teacher at Boyceville reminded me once that "the students don't like change". I don't know how much any of us like change. I know that I enjoy the challenge of being flexible with and for the students. In this sense I recognize that I need change, but at this point am not certain of my fondness for it. There is much I am looking forward to. The drive is beautiful and enjoyable. There are several sections of the road that remind me of riding in the back of our '75 SAAB 99. (The same car that facilitated an extended visit in Beach, S.D.) Sheryl and I would press the buttons that would control the roller coaster ride that my father provided as he straightened the curves and left our stomachs at the tops of the last hill. It was on the county back roads of Wisconsin that I may have first learned that sudden changes in direction and even altitude can be exhilarating and adventuresome.
I am only hoping that this next shift in direction is exciting and not the alternative - a bit nauseating.

try, try again

I have received written confirmation that I am free to seek employment elsewhere. I didn't quite have all my eggs in one basket, it was just the first basket I've tried. So - on to new baskets.


I'm sure that often after graduation there are more basket options than a person could know what to do with.

afternoon with Penelope and Persephone

Pene and I went walking out at the lake this afternoon. The abnormally warm breezes across the lake carried the anticipation and joy of new life and rebirth. The hum of the earth welcomed the moisture of the snow and ice melt as trees stirred to ready for the physical pronouncement of the waking woods. Above the surface of the still somewhat frozen lake the interplay of the cold air moving from the surface of the lake met with the surrounding air to make the same mirage effect that is normally witnessed above warm objects. (roads, radiators, desert sand)
The day felt like the fairytale rendition of first love's first date. There is only anticipation of what will be, what may be. All is right in the world for an hour, that hour.Upon arriving home from my blissful stroll, my dad reminded me that this is tornado weather. We do have a watch now, but I'm sure all this wind will just blow a tornado away.

letting go of limbo

I have arrived at that moment of deciding that if there was a positive decision to be made, it would be made by now. I feel the only reason there is a delay is in stalling to communicate the verdict, or waiting on timing.
It is no coincidence that 'wait' is a four-letter word. 'Just wait' is even worse, there is nothing 'just' about it.I know if I could see the mountain, it may seem too tall, too steep, too large - too much. My next steps seem to be going into thin air - no mountain in sight.

(Lake Louise in the mist and rain, taken on the road trip that Sher and I went on in 1996.)

life in another's hands

Limbo is defined as the in-between place. It is existing between realities. My limbo is being lived out (or through) checking emails and waiting for the phone to ring. The fork in the road is or isn't a fork based on the decision of someone else. I remind myself that regardless of the direction that my life will take (or can't/won't take), it will be 'good' either way. (Regardless of how much I want it to go in a certain direction.) The hardest time of the day comes when I come home from school and am able to check my email, after there has been a full day for a message to be sent. This is one of those times that I wish I could suspend free will and make someone do exactly what I think I want them to.
In my bible study this week, the question was posed whether we trust that God can and will work in the heart of an individual [who is currently making a decision that will affect our life] to bring about His plan for us. I was unable to see why this individual would have to head these promptings of God anymore than I would. It would seem to me that my life's direction would then be in the hands of an infallible individual capable of being wrong, misguided, or deliberately willfully opposed to God.
This ultimately defines the manner in which I understand the sovereignty of God. I do not believe that God will force the will of man. People have been, for all of history, lived in manners that are contrary to God. What I do believe is that whatever path my life is takes, be it of my will or that of another, God will be there for the journey. I only ask that I have the strength and fortitude to continue when the road doesn't fork the way that I want it to.

prolific cory cats

I don't know if it has had anything to do with snow days and schedules being off, but my corydora catfish have spawned. I went to feed the fishes today and the tank has clumps of little round eggs scattered and stuck about. I did notice that the cories were acting oddly yesterday night, but I thought everyone has a right to strange behavior periodically. I enjoy my fish tanks and these cycles and dramas of life being played out in micro-habitats in the basement.

I do not enjoy taking pictures of my fish tank, I find it frustrating to not be able to get a clear focus.

potty pass

Days at school can be busy, or at least constant. Times to run to the bathroom balances out with the fact that there is also little time to be drinking a lot. After a large cup of tea before classes I got to the bathroom once this morning during first hour. When I got home from school today I noticed my zipper was down...
I certainly hope that the lack of giggling meant that my sweater was long enough.

snowflakes in Boyceville

Through all these years as a student I have periodically wondered how a teacher could grade papers without comparing them to the other papers in the class. I didn't have any idea how possible this was until I read through my first set of papers (paragraphs) from the interior design class. The answers each stood as independently as the writers themselves. Attempting to compare them would be akin to comparing people's voice tones. There are standards expected - delineations in speech or grammar and answering the question, but beyond this their answers are as unique as the girls are. Their personalities, experiences, and knowledge are revealed in what they have (or haven't) written. Even their ease in expressing themselves in writing stands as a part of who they are as people and who they are within the classroom. I realized that this inability as a student to understand how a teacher grades impartially only points to my own inability to accept that simply because a person is or is not most comfortable communicating in writing or speech that they do or do not have any less to say. It is the fact that we each have something to say and others lives are enriched by the sharing of lives that learning to communicate effectively is essential to community. My life is richer because of the paragraphs the girls wrote - the pieces of themselves that they shared and the things they taught me.


These snowflakes were captured at SnowCrystals.com.

Too Cool for School

It's like a sick day without being sick!
Schools are closed today, it's -20 degrees out there. All this talk about housing and the needs that it fulfills has me hoping that everyone is warm enough. I've had to move May-bird out from the wall. He would shiver and his whole cage would vibrate - can't be a good thing.

Swallowing Kyoto

This is an ad posted in Christianity Today. I haven't pitched my tent on either side of the global warming/ human responsibility issue and I don't expect I will any time soon. I know it was just released that humans are most likely the cause of global warming - but I don't question the human contribution. There are a multitude of positive feedback mechanisms in place that are furthering carbon dioxide release into the atmosphere. (decreased albedo, increase in amount of water the air will hold (also increases greenhouse effect), carbon dioxide released from perma frost, increase in rainfall) Coupled with exponential population growth I don't see how any one could taut the theory that we can curb the carbon dioxide levels. The charts that are used to correlate the relationship between the industrial era and carbon dioxide levels also mirror the world's population. I suppose the response to this ad could be that there would be no reason to provide the world with clean drinking water if the world is going to be under water. This ad states that the answers to environmental pollution are in technological advancements. These technological advancements require wealth, which is why the United States could be a key player in addressing environmental issues. Rather than being the fat, rich nation that is the selfishly perched on the backs of the world's poor, the US has the opportunity to use its resources to attack these problems. But sadly we think we are a democratic country and if the people don't care -- policy and government won't either. If this is a part of a warming and cooling cycle that is natural, there is still no guarantee that this natural cycle will be a good thing for the human race. I thought it was interesting to think that an organism will often heat up (a fever is induced) to kill off a harmful bacteria. If the earth is viewed as an organism - what would be the bacteria? I don't doubt that the lump of rock that is our planet will survive this next millennium, perhaps scarred, but still in existence.

Teaching as an Art Form

Aside from the headache that has persisted since 1:54 this afternoon and the stomach cramps that cropped up after supper - all is wonderful, or better. I don't think I have ever come to a Friday evening and felt that I didn't need a weekend. (Don't get me wrong - I'll take a weekend - I've got plants to water, and a headache to get rid of.) Granted, there are several factors contributing to this week; one being we had a conference on Thursday and weren't at school. This was a wonderful opportunity to find out just how difficult it is to plan for a sub. It wasn't planning the day for the sub that was the issue. It was planning the week so that the class would have the information that I wanted them to have before the sub got there. There is so much flux in the classroom that it is difficult to pinpoint where the class will be the next day. This 'flux' in my interior design class is the reason that teachers teach. The class is not only well-behaved, considerate, and polite - they actively participate in the class. The 16 member, all-female, jr/sr class are a 'dream class'. They are creative and willingly to share. My challenges have been 'keeping up' with them and making sure that we will have a topic to talk about. They willingly continue conversations after lecture or activities on housing topics. They are friendly in the halls and helpful in the classroom. I have spent enough time in classrooms (observing and subbing) to know that all of teaching is not striding atop mountaintop experiences in classroom bliss, but it is nice to be exposed to it. This mountaintop week has also been the result of hours of prep time - both last week and each evening this week. Because of the amount of time that has been spent in discussion as well as the directions and emphases that are presented by and through the students, my class plans have changed daily. The basic structure of the week and the course remain the same, but the ways that I can teach this class are wide open. I honestly did not expect to be this impressed with the high school students. I had expected more attitude and adolescent/teen-age issues, but it's been limited. The behavior that is 'inappropriate' is not beyond comprehension and is within the boundaries of the childhood/early adulthood limits and expected (mis)behaviors.
My supervising professor observed class today and I didn't lose myself because she was observing me. It has helped that the cooperating teacher is always in the classroom and has never made me feel that she is there for reasons other than support and contribution where there is more information or anecdotes to fill in. The supportive environment makes it far easier to do well. This is, of course, true for all areas of life and was the topic of today's health class. My supervisory team (including the school administration) actively work to establish an environment that creates as little stress as possible. In the midst of a day that I thought could have been one of my most stressful, chocolate arrived. One of the ladies from my women's study stopped by with chocolate cupcakes covered in fudge. It was a delicious reminder of the blessing of the interconnectedness of our lives.
Being in the classroom is being part of a living art form. I don't feel that I could think myself a classroom 'artist'; there are too many unknowns and each student is herself a contributing work of art. But there is a 'thing of beauty' that is created in each class, made up of the people who are present and only possible in that day's composition. It is an honor and a privilege (while being a challenge) to be a part of these pictures.
I could not say that I would like to be a teacher because I love kids. I love people. I am a teacher and with that there is the opportunity to love people by teaching. No matter what job I ever have, it is as likely that teaching will be part of my life as are reading, writing, or creating other works of art. (Reading is as essential to the art of the written word as visual perception is to a painting.) Teaching is not just an occupation or a title, it is a gift. And it is a gift for which I am grateful.


The "Price" of a Gift
To trust, to be truly whole, is also to let go whatever we may consider our qualifications. There's a paradox here, and a trap for the lazy. I do not need to be "qualified" to play a Bach fugue on the piano (and playing a Bach fugue is for me an exercise in wholeness). But I cannot play that Bach fugue at all if I do not play the piano daily, if I do not practice my finger exercise. There are equivalents of finger exercises in the writing of books, the painting of portraits, the composing of a song. We do not need to be qualified; the gift is free; and yet we have to pay for it.
~Madeleine L'Engle, Walk on Water

'Teaching' - first week

Folks are asking how it's going. All is well, but it's not quite 'going' yet. I have been given the opportunity to prep for class and observe this first week of school. This has meant hours (perhaps too many - perfectionism strikes again) of making PowerPoint presentations and brainstorming for activities. (Sitting in the corner of the classroom, which has itself pricked some of the students' curiosity.) So I am still nervous. If there is no class discussion, we may end up sitting around looking at each other for half the class. There a couple of gals in the class that I may be able to count on for relevant input, and I realize that I have friends and family that are confident in my ability to carry a discussion all by myself, but it will largely depend on the atmosphere in the classroom.

The night before

student teaching.
Tomorrow is my first day teaching. I feel I am more nervous than I would like to be, but I don't know how else anyone would feel about being nervous. It is common for student teachers to adopt one of the cooperating teacher's courses for the duration of the quarter. I will be teaching an Interior Design course for the time that I am at Boyceville. (3rd quarter) I took the primary course related to interior design the first semester that I was at Stout. My learning curve during the course of the class was evident. But the designing that has been done in my corner of the basement isn't so evident. I think I am going to have to provide more information than 'hang some pictures and get some plants'. (regardless of the fact that the walls aren't finished)

The course outline is built on defining Interior Design as a 'Functional Form of Art'. I can then use the definition as an outline - going from structural, to design, and topping with expression. I think I may need more than the five slides that I have ready for tomorrow. Every time I start thinking of interior design this is the picture that comes to mind:












During the celebration that we attended in the Masaai village, we were invited into this family's home to 'see what it was like'. It was gracious of this woman to allow us to come into her home when she knew that we were primarily curious. We couldn't see while we were in there. Most of my own understanding of the space has come from these flash photos. There was a smoldering fire in the center of the room and it was (to me) oppressively smokey. Like all the people that we took pictures of while we were in the village, she did ask that we would send her a copy of the photo.
I learned something about hospitality during the time in Tanzania. I don't know how many Americans would open their home to foreigners to allow them some gauk time. I also found myself questioning the excess of all that I have. I don't think I've been called to take a vow of poverty in the sense of abandoning a position (or potential position/job) in this society by abandoning the capacity to maintain it, but I also don't think I need as much as I've accumulated.

Whoa! That's Quite the Update!

This is a posted copy of my 2006/beg 2007 newsletter.

Greetings from my corner of half of the basement!

This June, Grandpa took five granddaughters (Sheryl (my sister), Amanda (Bobbie/Matt’s), Caitlin (Paul/Laurie’s), and Sarah (Marilyn/Pete’s) to Tanzania for three weeks. My time was extended by about a week to complete some observation/interaction time for one of my courses at the International School – so I was there a tad over a month. The question resounding in my ears since then has been ‘How was the trip?’ The answer, ‘Amazing’ hardly covers the experience. ‘Remarkable’ may leave enough open for interpretation and more information, but ultimately there is still no simple answer to the question. The experience was exhilarating and exhausting; relaxing and adventuresome; inspiring and heart breaking. There were moments of great joy and great fear. There were times we got on one another’s nerves and we continue to thank God for the gift of our family, each other, and the time that we all spent with one another. The world shrank and grew at the same time. The doorway was opened to the ability to consider, dream, and love on a global level. We have been challenged to consider America’s influences on the global market and culture. We witnessed the influences of Western society while marveling at the vast differences between the worlds of the peoples that we met and spent time with.

Will I be going back? Hopefully, or at least ‘going’. My future is planned as far as graduation and after that I have only rough ideas as to where I will find myself. I do know that this trip and the brief exposure to a fraction of the global community coupled with ongoing contacts with missionaries and family abroad would play a role in the shaping of my teaching philosophy and focus.

The trip, after the rest of my family arrived, was divided into four 4-day trips. From our home base with family, we went on a Dorobo safari, to the beach at Pangani, back to portions of Grandpa/ma’s mission fields, and into Maasailand. Each of these short trips stood out in stark contrast to the others in regards to the things that we saw, the people that we were with, meals that we had, and the activities we did. The unifying factor throughout the trips was the time that we spent together. The vast majority of this time was considered quality and good time, while some moments were just considered a bit close. An 85-year-old mzungu (who speaks Swahili) and his five granddaughters stand out a bit in Tanzania. We met scores of people, learned what tribes they were from and what families they had. Scores of people met us and they (and we) learned which of us are ‘binti’ (single – Amanda, Sarah, Caitlin, and me) as opposed to bibi (mothers - Sheryl).

I am attempting to conjure up the paragraphs that would encompass all that has been ‘news-worthy’ over these past two years. I was violently ill the spring of 2005 – with about 10 days encompassing final projects and exams that I was unable to get out of bed. I have come through the ordeal much more careful about getting enough sleep and heeding warning signs about stress levels. Throughout that summer I spent hours every day kayaking Tainter Lake healing and recovering (or something like that). Mid summer I took off to the apostle island area to go on a guided kayak tour over a ship wreck. It was a beautiful trip and solidified my personal desire to take off on a bit of an adventure once a year. As it turned out, the next summer I ran around London for an afternoon. (and did see a lot of pigeons)

Also the summer of 2005 Sheryl and Mark moved to Eau Claire from Albuquerque. They married August 13 and the next day I ripped off the end of a finger. It was torn from the outside edge of my middle finger up, crushing the bone – I left a miniscule strip that was apparently large enough to house enough nerve to someday again have feeling. All-in-all it was an eventful summer. The finger has healed although it will never look the same – it is a continual reminder that no one else pays overly too much attention to the length of my digits. At the beginning of this December, one of the 5-year-old girls in my Sunday School class did pray that God would help me not cut off my finger again – I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Sheryl and Mark’s launch into married life has been much less painful or disfiguring and we enjoy their general ‘nearness’ and frequent visits.

I did end up cutting back on my class load that semester as it would’ve been difficult to type and keep up without being able to type. The injury healed as an open wound and it was months before I could go without the bandages. I did have the bandages off by the time my mother cut off the end of the middle finger of her right hand. She did a much cleaner job of it and hers now looks normal. She, however may have severed both bilateral nerves that service the tip of the finger and she seems to have less sensation than I do. With her excellent nursing skills; the practice that she has at work and had on my wound, she healed without infection as well. As is evident – it has been a bonding experience for us to discuss and compare sensations and phantom pains and such.

The spring semester of 2006 was difficult. My class load was heavy and I had courses to finish carried over from the semester that I was ill. Shortly after the New Year the dream was hatched for the Tanzania trip with Grandpa. Added to the deadlines were visas, passports and itineraries. Grandpa phoned much of the foot work in these areas and then family in Tanzania provided the needed (and more) support from the Tanzania side of the Atlantic. The first of June I flew out for Tanzania, elated and terrified. But not scared enough to stay in Heathrow Airport and miss out on London. I met a group of people at the airport and several of us hopped a tour bus and saw as much of London as quickly as possible. (My photos of London are on a CD that refuses to cooperate, so if anyone knows how to reach the unreachable, let me know.)

Africa is half a world, and now (amazingly) half a year, away. My final semester of classes flew by and I am now reeling at the thought of being done with university classes. I feel at home in a classroom, which at least validates the idea of teaching. I will be student teaching this spring in Boyceville (Grandma Peterson’s hometown) and Bloomer and will then be done with the degree. Come July, the sky’s the limit – or rather the job opening is the limit. I will be graduating with a B.S. in Family Consumer Science Education with minors in Chemistry and English Literature. Contrary to what I had thought, this will not enable me to be a licensed teacher (in a public school in the US) in Chemistry (or Lit). What all this will mean for a job, I have no idea. I am reminded that the degree is meant to open doors, but at the moment am not even sure where to knock. Luckily I still have a semester of teaching to focus on. There are multitudes of opportunities to teach English abroad and I am strongly considering various options in this area. With increasing numbers of students graduating with significant student loans, organizations are becoming more obliging to work with those who are in debt.

Launching:

I had, for quite sometime, been typing up thoughts, observations and such (with photo enhancement) as a word file. With encouragement and a name from my Dad, this habit became my ‘blog’ (web log or journal, “Basement Blog”, in May of 2006. The frequency of ‘posts’ (entries) is indirectly proportional to impending deadlines, but I enjoy the outlet nonetheless. My existence is expressed in a wide variety of pursuits and passions, certainly not limited to this blog. There is much more to life than the loss of half a digit (with lots of pictures), the chemical balances of my fish tank (with fewer pictures) or the cricket hordes in the basement (no pictures – yet). When I returned from Tanzania I focused on organizing and printing the hundreds of pictures that I (and the girls) took while there, but I did not get many of them posted on the blog. I intend to ‘back-post’ and share some of the best.

I find myself reaching the end of one significant stage in my life -- my degree (finally) completed. I’ll resist the temptation to claim that I am standing at the edge of a precipice and wondering in which direction to leap, but my emotions are somewhere in that vicinity. I would covet your (continued) prayers concerning strength for the final stretch and clarity of direction for the next step. I have stated that my life and direction are my Lord’s and I would only ask for the presence of mind and heart to head in the direction of the door that is open.

With Love,

Kristi

orchids and Rorschach

Sheryl, Mark, and I went to the conservatory today. The company was delightfully invigorating. Conversing with the two of them challenges me to think.This is a rather small orchid. The background, as it often does, showed the physical structure of the greenhouse. I did a 'watercolor' effect on the picture with my photo image program. I would like to learn to paint someday, but right now it is only an expensive, time/space-consuming dream, so I'll make the computer do it.I think this reflection photo looks like the old Disney wolf is in it. I don't know what this says about my personality though. (The blue half moon to the right and low of center is his eye with his mouth going to the left and he's going to eat something.) The movement in the water is created by the curious koi mulling about near the surface. The black portions of the reflection are the beam structure in the sky roof.


I have leaned how to frame photos (click on 'photo frame') and have been enjoying the effect - boundaries can be a good thing.


"The artist doesn't see things as they are, but as he is." - Anonymous

Today I haven't seen myself as an artist, so I don't know where that leaves me.

Pene wears socks for school

but she doesn't like to.

Our final assignment for Secondary Reading was to write an instructional booklet for our students. My Family Consumer Science group chose to instruct on the topic of basic survival skills for the fledgling young adult. I got to write the laundry portion. I enjoy doing the laundry -- to the extent that Sheryl has not 'let me' do her laundry as it seems a bit too odd. I think it is magical that dirty clothes can be put into a machine, buttons pressed and then largely ignored until CLEAN! (I say largely ignored because we have a front loading washer with a window in the door - Rainman knew what he was talking about.)
The first step of my laundry instruction booklet was to 'Find Clothes'. I think that any school assignment that allows you to throw your laundry about the house and then take pictures of it is a pretty fun assignment. The picture of Pene wearing my socks was a part of this 'Find Clothes' step. She looks about as happy as she was about the entire process.
The only possible secret in laundry is the sorting process. So I guess there isn't much magic in that. I realize knowledge is supposed to sap the wonder, but it remains wonderful to me.


Grades are in and are good. I had completely blanked on my Quantitative Analysis midterm, but did well on the final. Environmental Chemistry did answer my questions about the fish tank. Simply stated, the introduction of the oxygen with the underground filtration oxidizes the nitrites to less-nasty-for-the-fishes nitrates. Waste-water treatment plants have a similar step in their processes. I thoroughly enjoyed my environmental chemistry course. The direct application of the science was precisely how my head wants to think and anytime you can learn how to save a few fishes it's gotta be a good thing.

My next step is the direct application of my teaching skills. I enjoy teaching, but I am sure that I will have much to learn about the real-life application of planning, structure, and classroom management. I am thankful that I have been teaching my Sunday school class each week, but somehow doubt if classroom management of 4-year-olds will be the same as high school. At least the four-year-olds are smaller than me - standing up goes a long way.

After graduation - I don't know where I go. I am not the type of person who plans well (I am actually quite uncomfortable with set, long-term, binding plans). I hope to head toward an open door rather than a closed one.

mouse boogers and humble pigs

This is my Birthday card from Sheryl, Mark, Brook and Guinness:

We laughed out loud.

It has been a wonderful birthday. My canker sore is finally healing. I got to wear my favorite socks. My cross stitch bird looks like a bird. (kinda) I got to watch Charlotte's Web with Sheryl, Mark and Brook and to be with Brook a little more before she flies home. I went to Michael's craft store and didn't spend a lot of money. But I did get 2 calendars for $.50 a piece - there are lots of things I can do with calendars... I have bookmarks for each of the books that I have started and not finished! - this way I at least do not have to reread what I had started, so some time is not wasted. I got to start listening to Bill Bryson's A Brief History of Nearly Everything, which, it turns out, is 'my kind of book'. - full of fun facts and party trivia. (I'm not sure why I don't party much...)

The night before last I developed a bit of a life plan (it bein' the new year and all) for the next three years. (I graduate this spring - attention deficit or not) This plan is certainly not set in stone, but is productive and will be good for helping me to get to wherever it is that I am going. I can only hope that when I get to where I'm going, there are days like today.


"Space curves in a way that allows it to be boundless but finite. Space cannot even properly be said to be expanding because as the physicist and Nobel laureate Steven Weinberg notes, "solar systems and galaxies are not expanding, and space itself is not expanding." Rather the galaxies are rushing apart. It is all something of a challenge to intuition." p 17 A Short History

I suppose something a akin to the pool balls rushing apart but the table is not expanding - except there is no 'table' because without the boundaries that are defined by the playing surface for the balls - there simply is no table - or universe - or galaxies - beyond where the expansion has already occurred. As a science dives further into itself, the trinity is not so strange sounding. It seems that we will be able to 'prove' the other dimensions more sooner than later - then what are we to do with the possibilities of life within our own planet? Perhaps heaven is a place on earth.

be thou my vision

Obviously this photo isn't as recent as today or even yesterday, but it is on my mind this evening - or often times even.
Last Wednesday evening we celebrated Grandma and Grandpa Peterson's 60th wedding anniversary. This photo was the wallpaper on my computer and was therefore sitting on the screen as we waited to know what was happening before the slide show started. Grandpa read the verse and (although I interrupted because it was just my wallpaper and not a planned part of the presentation) his reading it added truth to the sentiment. He and my grandmother have given their lives for the inheritance of and in heaven. This verse from 'Be Thou My Vision' sums up all that I hope for and long to embody more truly. I can think of all that I 'have' - all the material possessions and even relationships, that, in truth - have me. I am realizing that before I can even think of leaving here - the house, the state, the country - I have so much stuff that I need to sort through. I have rationalized not flat out getting rid of everything in the facts that I will probably continue to teach in some capacity and there is no sense in getting rid of one project to replace it (and thereby pay for) with another one.
Tonight's thoughts on 'Be Thou My Vision' revolve around the layers of meaning within the phrase. The fact that God is our vision - that which we see the world by and through as well as our vision - that which is revealed before us, often inspiring. Existing simultaneously in both capacities God is our present and our future; our life and functioning as well as our capacity and potential.
There are the similar layers in the verse "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37: 5-7) Having known beautifully faithful Christians who have for decades prayed for prodigal children I don't always like this verse. I am sure there are prodigal children who go to meet their maker with their parents never knowing the state of their relationship in Christ. For me, this verse is one that is answered on more layers than granting my wishes. I have also heard many people say that if prayers are unanswered the fault is mine in the fact that I must not be delighting myself in God, doing good, or committing myself to him fully enough. I think that God is more often unknown to me than He makes His blessings contingent on the level of my good doings.
The layers in this verse revolve around the phrase 'give me the desires of my heart'. It is the human capacity to desire, to hope that separates from the rest of creation. It may be that this is part of the attributes of humans that we are created in the image of God. He also hopes and desires. So God gave us the desires of our heart in our very capacity to desire anything. So why then would we be created to desire things that will never come to pass? Because in this we share in the heartbreak of our creator. In this fact we share the pain of people who can and will refuse Christ's sacrifice and go on to live separated from God.
Most commonly I am told that as we grow close to God He places within our hearts His desires. I think this is certainly true - but I do not think that simply because our desires are placed there by God that these wishes will come true. It seems that millions of God's own desires have gone ungranted in the joining of 'He wills that none would perish' and 'the wages of sin is death'. So either He doesn't will that none would perish or hell isn't real.

(The photo was taken from the new deck on October 2 in the golden light of sun setting - the next day the leaves were past prime)

good ol' boys and the horrors of Thanksgiving

I am privileged to the be the teacher for the 4-yr-old Sunday School class at church. Four-year-olds have a deserved reputation for chasing rabbits. (and cats, and puppies and parrots when available). In attempts to bond with my class and make the entire experience one that is relevant to their lives we talk about their lives, their concerns and we pray for the things that they bring up. We often talk about pets because I have figured that it is a topic that I can ask them about and the answers will be in 'safe' territory. We have prayed for Gracie's cat, who has had to adjust to a new type of food when the store stopped carrying the kind that it was used to. I have been assured that the cat, apparently a very old cat, has adjusted well to this unexpected change in diet. Not to be upstaged by a distressed cat, Andrew announced that his dog 'got dead'. It has apparently been a bit a while since the vehicular demise of the dog, but a traumatic retelling all the same. (and an excellent opportunity to reiterate the importance of not crossing the road without adults, so that we stay safe and do not 'get dead' like the dog). During singing time with the nursery group, each week Paula asks the children to sit quietly and raise their hands to request a song. They are very good about requesting songs that we know and have sung in this singing time on previous Sundays. They persistently ask to sing 'Twinkle, Twinkle Star, and we have gently asked for song requests that pertain to Jesus or God. (We have since, due to their persistence, decided that emphasizing that it is God who made the stars is sufficient for Twinkle, Twinkle.) Andrew rendered all the adults in the room unable to respond without laughing when he stated he would like to sing the 'Dukes of Hazard' song. I suppose Jesus could've been a 'good ol' boy' and he was in trouble with the law from the day he was born... One of my initial introductions to small town Wisconsin life was sitting at a table and listening to three 'good ol' boys' quote the lyrics of the 'Dukes of Hazard' song -- spoken, without the tune. The moment was a bit of an epiphany and the light bulbs in my head each blinked 'We're not in Kansas anymore'.
This week we made Thanksgiving turkeys from hand cut-outs and foot cut-outs. Dorian brought hers to her dad and he asked why her turkey was so sad. She laughed as she said, "Because he doesn't want to get shot."
Last week, during the same singing time the kids were asked what their lesson was on. They responded that Jesus had made a 'drink'. Paula, patiently probing them for greater retention asked what drink. (I had not emphasized what drink since the painting in our story book depicted a rollicking crowd, that looked to me, quite inebriated.) The kids did not miss the question though, annunciated 'Kool-Aid!' -- to their delight and my embarassment. To their credit, this had been the prop in the class. I told them that Jesus didn't have to use powder and sugar to make the drink. They said is was because he had powers because he was God and I think that was the truth of the matter and the alcohol content was beside the point.
Life, for me, is in the little things -- the side shoots and tangents; pet concerns and the availablity of kool-aid. Obviously in God's requests for us to pray without ceasing, He takes an interest in these little things as well.

without a coat

Today, walking to class at ten of eight in the morning, I thought, 'I don't need my coat'. It is quite confusing to not need my light jacket on the eighth of November.
I have spent the last 3+ weeks reading books and texts, listening to audiobooks and lectures, and watching documentaries about global warming. I haven't gotten through the books and arguments written by the 'so-called skeptics'. After tiring myself out with facts, figures, arguments, opinions, and the varied lenses to read the same data - I have decided that if the dire predictions about global warming, the direct relationship to carbon dioxide emissions, and the anthropogenic sources and influences on it all are correct -- there is nothing we can do about it.
and in this cynical state of mind, I will simply enjoy my day without a need for a jacket.

tired like an onion

Layers of fatigue go in layers like onions. The outermost layer gets tired and is rejuvenated with a good night sleep. As the fatigue sinks further and further through the layers it doesn't seem to matter how many 'good night sleep's I get -- I'm still tired - increasingly so. I don't mind always having something to do, it's the always-having-something-to-do-under-pressure that is getting to me.