Last night it snommed 5 inches, thus I got another snom day! (I like to call snow, "snom" because one time we had little African children from the African Children's Choir stay at our house and it snowed when they were there and they had never seen it before and they wrote us a thank you note that said: "We had fun playing in the snom.")
I was watching Kelly and Regis this morning and Papa came in and asked me:
Papa: Are you having a relaxing day?
Julie: Yes, are you?
Papa: Yes. I have a lot of relaxing days.
We didn't have oatmeal for breakfast this morning. Instead we had hard-boiled eggs. I didn't want one because I don't really like eggs (it's a texture thing...), but Papa made me try one. He always makes me try things, even if I've had them before. It wasn't good, but I forced myself to eat it in the same way Papa forces himself to eat oatmeal. At breakfast, Papa said he was going to go shovel the walk. Grammy told him he isn't and she is going to go shovel. I told them that neither of them are shoveling, and I'll do it because I'm the strongest. Then, Papa told me he is the strongest and started flexing his muscles. Then I told him that I can do 30 push-ups and I go to rehab every day, then he told me that maybe I should go now so he can have a little free time.
Anyway, Grammy kept telling us that she is going to shovel, and we kept telling her no, because:
1) She already hurt her shoulder this year from picking apples to make applebutter at church
It ended up Papa and me out there shoveling a path for the mailman (Papa really likes his mail). We shoveled a path all the way down the driveway and then shoveled some space so we could get cars out of the garage. Papa decided that he wanted to get his car out of the garage immediately, so he pulls it out and backs down the driveway with ease. Then, he tried to get it back up the drive way and he just spun his tires and slid right back down into the street. He tried this several times, each time whipping around the driveway even faster and pressing the pedal harder so his tires spun even more. It was really scary. I could see bad things happening, but Papa just kept on spinning. Finally, he got the car inside the garage and told me I could go inside and he's just going to tidy up the driveway a little bit. So I went inside, and when I looked out the window, there he was, sliding around the driveway again in his huge rear-wheel drive Lincoln. I told Grammy what he was doing and she said: "I hate that car. We never should have bought it. It has rear-wheel drive and can't drive in the snow. As soon as one of us dies, we're getting rid of it!" According to Papa, that will be at least 8 years.
For dinner, we had pheasant. One of Papa's friends shot a pheasant and gave it to us. Grammy and him told me it was a $100 pheasant because that is how much it cost his friend to go hunting. Grammy found a recipe so we made it into a casserole. We also added some chicken to it so that we would have a little more meat (pheasants are small...). Anyway, we cooked it and served it and Papa couldn't tell what was pheasant and what was chicken, so he would take out each piece of meat and show it to Grammy and me so we could tell him what he is eating. During dinner he asked me:
Papa: Did you eat your hard-boiled egg this morning?
Julie: Yes.
Papa: Did you like it?
Julie: No. I don't like eggs. I just ate it anyway though, kind of like how you eat oatmeal even though you don't like it.
Papa: I know how that goes. Oatmeal makes me sickly. Whenever I eat it, I feel nauseated.
Grammy: That is all in your head!
Papa: No, I feel ill to my stomach. Really nauseated.
Grammy: No you don't, it is in your head. Stop thinking about that and you won't feel sick.
Papa: This casserole makes me feel the same way. Nauseous. I like some of the things in it, like the rice, water chestnuts and mushrooms, but I don't know about this meat.
Julie: Yeah, I don't know about it either.
Grammy: It all tastes like chicken to me. I don't know why pheasant is so expensive at restaurants!
Papa: Are we going to have another course this meal? Like dessert?
Julie: Well, are you sure you're not too nauseous?
Papa: I'll have some carrot cake to even things out in there.
Yeah, it turns out we're not really fans of pheasant. But we are fans of carrot cake.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Papa's Tooth.
Papa went to the dentist twice yesterday. He went in the morning and then had to go back to get a tooth pulled in the afternoon. Grammy was telling me this story and she said they went in and numbed his mouth, and just pulled it right out. She said it had really good, strong roots and Papa was really happy with that because it affirms his idea he is going to live a lot longer. When I got home from work, Papa came up to me with a flashlight and told me to look at where he got a tooth pulled. I think he is really proud of it. He told me his face is still numb, so I asked him if he is going to slobber during dinner, because that would be embarrassing. He laughed and said he wasn't sure, but he'll try his best not to.
At breakfast this morning, Papa was talking about his tooth and how much better his mouth feels now. He said that he would have had to get a crown on it, but he thinks the tooth was infected so he's glad they pulled it. "I have to think about the long run, like when I'm 90." Grammy laughed and said "That's right, you've got 10 more years." Papa responded: "Well I have 10 more healthy years, until things start getting bad. Then I start declining."
In conclusion, he is glad he got his tooth pulled.
Last night before dinner, Papa told me he really wants me to make some cookies. So, I asked him what kind and he said, "Peanut butter. Wait, those might be too crunchy since I just got my tooth pulled. My face is still a little numb. I think I want a carrot cake. I saw a picture in a magazine and it looked really good." And he decided he was going to go to the grocery store (in the sleet) and get some. Grammy told him she wanted to make one from scratch because she doesn't think a boxed carrot cake sounds very good. So, Papa went and got us carrots and Grammy and I made a homemade carrot cake, and it was darn good. We weren't going to eat any, but when we tried to go to rehab to exercise, it was too icy outside so we couldn't drive and we decided to eat cake instead.
At breakfast this morning, Papa was talking about his tooth and how much better his mouth feels now. He said that he would have had to get a crown on it, but he thinks the tooth was infected so he's glad they pulled it. "I have to think about the long run, like when I'm 90." Grammy laughed and said "That's right, you've got 10 more years." Papa responded: "Well I have 10 more healthy years, until things start getting bad. Then I start declining."
In conclusion, he is glad he got his tooth pulled.
Last night before dinner, Papa told me he really wants me to make some cookies. So, I asked him what kind and he said, "Peanut butter. Wait, those might be too crunchy since I just got my tooth pulled. My face is still a little numb. I think I want a carrot cake. I saw a picture in a magazine and it looked really good." And he decided he was going to go to the grocery store (in the sleet) and get some. Grammy told him she wanted to make one from scratch because she doesn't think a boxed carrot cake sounds very good. So, Papa went and got us carrots and Grammy and I made a homemade carrot cake, and it was darn good. We weren't going to eat any, but when we tried to go to rehab to exercise, it was too icy outside so we couldn't drive and we decided to eat cake instead.
Snow Days.
Now that I'm back in a high school, I get snow days! And since I live in rural Missouri, I get a lot of snow days! It is awesome. Papa thinks it is really funny when I get snow days and he'll just talk to me all day about how I'm getting paid to be at home and if I'm having a relaxing day. Snow days are the BEST! One of my high schools has this automated phone call that calls us at 5:30am when there is going to be a snow day, so I don't even have to get out of bed to check the news. It rocks.
Anyway, when I have snow days, I get to eat breakfast with Grammy and Papa. This morning, Papa made oatmeal for breakfast. I said "I thought you don't eat oatmeal" and he told me he hates it but he makes himself eat it anyway. So, while we were sitting there eating our oats, Papa says:
Papa: I would really like some blueberry muffins. You should make some today.
Julie: Maybe I'll have another snow day tomorrow and I can make them for breakfast.
Papa: I think you should make them today. Then I can just microwave one in the morning for breakfast, you see?
Julie: What brand of muffins do you want?
Papa: That kind in the small packet. And I want you to add some real blueberries to the bottom.
Papa goes to the kitchen to get the packet of muffin mix he wants
Grammy: I don't like that kind. Why don't you just buy Krusteaz? (Grammy loves Krusteaz mixes. I think it is because they were developed by some stay-at-home moms who were tired of making things from scratch, though Grammy makes everything from scratch.)
Papa: I like this brand. It is blueberry cheesecake. I've made it before and they're good.
Grammy: You might as well eat a piece of carrot cake. It is probably healthier. It has carrots and raisins and pecans in it at least.
Papa: Maybe I will. How long do the muffins take to cook?
Julie: 17 minutes. Do you want me to make them now?
Papa: Yes. You better go preheat the bottom oven.
I walk into the kitchen and start getting down a bowl to mix the batter in.
Papa: I like that other bowl. Use that clear one, it's better.
I put the bowl I had down and reach for a clear bowl, but it is the wrong one so I look in the other pantry and pick one up, but Papa tells me it is the wrong one. Finally, I find the right bowl.
Papa: Are you using milk or water?
Julie: Milk. Do you want me to use water?
Papa: No no no.
I mix the batter together and go to get a muffin pan.
Papa: Which pan did you get? Did you get the dark pan?
Julie: No, I got the shiny pan.
Papa: The dark pan is better.
Grammy: All the pans are the same. The dark pan is too big.
Julie: Do you want muffin liners or do you want me to grease the pan?
Papa: Use some Crisco.
I go to the pantry and get the Crisco spray.
Papa: Not the spray, I like it better when you use the solid and spread it in the pan.
Grammy: That is not very good for you. The spray is much healthier!
Papa: I think the other makes it crispier, but use the spray, I don't care.
I go to the freezer to get the blueberries.
Papa: Don't use those blueberries, use the ones in the fridge.
Julie: How many blueberries do you want in each muffin?
Papa: 6.
Julie: Are you going to count them while your eating?
Papa: (laughs) You can put a little more than 6 in if you want.
Julie: Good, I put more than 6 in some of them. Do you want cinnamon sugar on top of them?
Papa: Let me see it. Yes, a little bit. Get a spoon and sprinkle it on top.
I start spooning the batter into the muffin pan.
Papa: You might want to get a spatula. So you can get it all out.
Julie: Ok, good idea, Papa.
17 minutes later....
Julie: Papa! Your muffins are done! Aren't you excited?!
Papa: Yes, did they stick in there? Because they never stick when I wipe the Crisco in there.
Julie: Nope, they are coming out perfectly.
Papa: I see some blueberry stuck in there.
Grammy: Blueberries always stick.
We sit down to eat the muffins (aka breakfast dessert)
Papa: These are good muffins. I think that crunchy stuff on top really makes them good.
Grammy: That's because it is just sugar.
Man, snow days are the BEST!
Anyway, when I have snow days, I get to eat breakfast with Grammy and Papa. This morning, Papa made oatmeal for breakfast. I said "I thought you don't eat oatmeal" and he told me he hates it but he makes himself eat it anyway. So, while we were sitting there eating our oats, Papa says:
Papa: I would really like some blueberry muffins. You should make some today.
Julie: Maybe I'll have another snow day tomorrow and I can make them for breakfast.
Papa: I think you should make them today. Then I can just microwave one in the morning for breakfast, you see?
Julie: What brand of muffins do you want?
Papa: That kind in the small packet. And I want you to add some real blueberries to the bottom.
Papa goes to the kitchen to get the packet of muffin mix he wants
Grammy: I don't like that kind. Why don't you just buy Krusteaz? (Grammy loves Krusteaz mixes. I think it is because they were developed by some stay-at-home moms who were tired of making things from scratch, though Grammy makes everything from scratch.)
Papa: I like this brand. It is blueberry cheesecake. I've made it before and they're good.
Grammy: You might as well eat a piece of carrot cake. It is probably healthier. It has carrots and raisins and pecans in it at least.
Papa: Maybe I will. How long do the muffins take to cook?
Julie: 17 minutes. Do you want me to make them now?
Papa: Yes. You better go preheat the bottom oven.
I walk into the kitchen and start getting down a bowl to mix the batter in.
Papa: I like that other bowl. Use that clear one, it's better.
I put the bowl I had down and reach for a clear bowl, but it is the wrong one so I look in the other pantry and pick one up, but Papa tells me it is the wrong one. Finally, I find the right bowl.
Papa: Are you using milk or water?
Julie: Milk. Do you want me to use water?
Papa: No no no.
I mix the batter together and go to get a muffin pan.
Papa: Which pan did you get? Did you get the dark pan?
Julie: No, I got the shiny pan.
Papa: The dark pan is better.
Grammy: All the pans are the same. The dark pan is too big.
Julie: Do you want muffin liners or do you want me to grease the pan?
Papa: Use some Crisco.
I go to the pantry and get the Crisco spray.
Papa: Not the spray, I like it better when you use the solid and spread it in the pan.
Grammy: That is not very good for you. The spray is much healthier!
Papa: I think the other makes it crispier, but use the spray, I don't care.
I go to the freezer to get the blueberries.
Papa: Don't use those blueberries, use the ones in the fridge.
Julie: How many blueberries do you want in each muffin?
Papa: 6.
Julie: Are you going to count them while your eating?
Papa: (laughs) You can put a little more than 6 in if you want.
Julie: Good, I put more than 6 in some of them. Do you want cinnamon sugar on top of them?
Papa: Let me see it. Yes, a little bit. Get a spoon and sprinkle it on top.
I start spooning the batter into the muffin pan.
Papa: You might want to get a spatula. So you can get it all out.
Julie: Ok, good idea, Papa.
17 minutes later....
Julie: Papa! Your muffins are done! Aren't you excited?!
Papa: Yes, did they stick in there? Because they never stick when I wipe the Crisco in there.
Julie: Nope, they are coming out perfectly.
Papa: I see some blueberry stuck in there.
Grammy: Blueberries always stick.
We sit down to eat the muffins (aka breakfast dessert)
Papa: These are good muffins. I think that crunchy stuff on top really makes them good.
Grammy: That's because it is just sugar.
Man, snow days are the BEST!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Dinner Conversation 3: My Car.
My car has some problems. I bought it used with 116,000 miles for $2500, but I've probably had to put about $2500 more into it for repairs and upkeep. I like my car, I really do, but I do not like how sometimes it won't start or how it shakes violently when I stop at stoplights. My sister named it Snow______. This means that we alter the name to fit the season. For example, it has the prefix "Snow" because it is white, and for each holiday we change the second word: Snow-pumpkin, Snow-turkey, Snow-easter egg etc. Weird, I know.
Papa likes to hear about car problems so he can think of what could be wrong. When I first moved in, I told him that my car shakes and makes a squealing noise, so he went out and looked at it and then came back inside and told me I'm driving his car to work so he can take mine to Neil, the mechanic. The only mechanic that Papa trusts. In the world.
Anyway, after he took it in, my car was gone for 3 weeks. I have no idea what they were doing to it that could take so long. I guess they had to order some pieces or something and then Papa told them to take their time so they could make sure they fixed everything.
I got it back and it worked fine (honestly, I couldn't tell a difference), but Papa said he could tell it ran better. He must know something I don't know.
Papa always makes me report to him how my car is doing. He also asks me a lot if I've checked my oil, and the bummer about this is I can't lie because he always has checked it and knows how high it is. Unfortunate.
Recently, my car has done this really fun thing where I try to start it and it won't start. Awesome. Sometimes, I've had to sit there and turn the key upwards of 10 times before it would finally start. Usually it started after a few tries, but I was always worried that it won't and I'll be stuck somewhere. I love it when this happens because since I live in rural Missouri, most people know about cars, so I'm sure they just sit/stand there and watch me, thinking "Stupid city girl. Can't even start her car. I bet she doesn't even know how to check the oil." So, I told Papa about this problem and he NEVER BELIEVED ME BECAUSE IT NEVER HAPPENED WHEN HE WENT TO TRY IT. Annoying. So we took it in numerous times, but they could never find anything wrong with it, so just sent it back home. One day, after being stuck at WalMart for 20 minutes trying to get the engine to turn, I finally had to call Grammy for help. It was then that I realized that Papa was at WalMart at that very moment, which shouldn't surprise me because he goes about 4 times a day. Grammy and I think he just likes to go and sit down there in the little food area. So Grammy and I walked around through WalMart looking for him and I told him that my car wouldn't start. This is where everything gets worse: Papa goes out to see if the car will start and IT STARTS! I was so mad. I drove home screaming and crying and cursing my car, vowing to get a new one.
After this incident, Papa took my car back in to see Neil. This time, Neil decided to clean the engine, and I guess that means that he flushes out all the bad stuff that accumulates when driving and it makes lots of black smoke. Neil said that my car was one of the top 10 dirtiest cars he has ever cleaned. Papa thinks that is really funny. He said that when they cleaned it, he could see the smoke all the way over at McDonald's (surprise, surprise, Papa was at McDonald's...) which is about 2 miles away. Everytime we talk about it, he just laughes and says "Top 10." After this cleansing session, however, I haven't had any problems with my car starting. Neil said that people who drive really slowly have dirtier engines than fast drivers, so I told Papa I have no idea why my engine was so dirty! His should be dirtier than mine!
Papa says I drive too fast. I don't. I drive the speed limit, or sometimes a little over. He says that there is no need to drive faster than 55 mph. I told him I have the need for speed and that requires me to drive faster than 55 mph. Driving with Papa is very leisurely. It consists of people passing you on 2-lane highways, lots of braking and reading. I always bring a book because it takes a long time to get places and I need something to do. This has helped me immensely on my quest to conquer the Classics.
In conclusion, Papa says that cars are the worst investment and I shouldn't get a new one until I'm out of graduate school. I'm not sure if Snow-Valentine will make it 2 more years...here's hoping!
Papa likes to hear about car problems so he can think of what could be wrong. When I first moved in, I told him that my car shakes and makes a squealing noise, so he went out and looked at it and then came back inside and told me I'm driving his car to work so he can take mine to Neil, the mechanic. The only mechanic that Papa trusts. In the world.
Anyway, after he took it in, my car was gone for 3 weeks. I have no idea what they were doing to it that could take so long. I guess they had to order some pieces or something and then Papa told them to take their time so they could make sure they fixed everything.
I got it back and it worked fine (honestly, I couldn't tell a difference), but Papa said he could tell it ran better. He must know something I don't know.
Papa always makes me report to him how my car is doing. He also asks me a lot if I've checked my oil, and the bummer about this is I can't lie because he always has checked it and knows how high it is. Unfortunate.
Recently, my car has done this really fun thing where I try to start it and it won't start. Awesome. Sometimes, I've had to sit there and turn the key upwards of 10 times before it would finally start. Usually it started after a few tries, but I was always worried that it won't and I'll be stuck somewhere. I love it when this happens because since I live in rural Missouri, most people know about cars, so I'm sure they just sit/stand there and watch me, thinking "Stupid city girl. Can't even start her car. I bet she doesn't even know how to check the oil." So, I told Papa about this problem and he NEVER BELIEVED ME BECAUSE IT NEVER HAPPENED WHEN HE WENT TO TRY IT. Annoying. So we took it in numerous times, but they could never find anything wrong with it, so just sent it back home. One day, after being stuck at WalMart for 20 minutes trying to get the engine to turn, I finally had to call Grammy for help. It was then that I realized that Papa was at WalMart at that very moment, which shouldn't surprise me because he goes about 4 times a day. Grammy and I think he just likes to go and sit down there in the little food area. So Grammy and I walked around through WalMart looking for him and I told him that my car wouldn't start. This is where everything gets worse: Papa goes out to see if the car will start and IT STARTS! I was so mad. I drove home screaming and crying and cursing my car, vowing to get a new one.
After this incident, Papa took my car back in to see Neil. This time, Neil decided to clean the engine, and I guess that means that he flushes out all the bad stuff that accumulates when driving and it makes lots of black smoke. Neil said that my car was one of the top 10 dirtiest cars he has ever cleaned. Papa thinks that is really funny. He said that when they cleaned it, he could see the smoke all the way over at McDonald's (surprise, surprise, Papa was at McDonald's...) which is about 2 miles away. Everytime we talk about it, he just laughes and says "Top 10." After this cleansing session, however, I haven't had any problems with my car starting. Neil said that people who drive really slowly have dirtier engines than fast drivers, so I told Papa I have no idea why my engine was so dirty! His should be dirtier than mine!
Papa says I drive too fast. I don't. I drive the speed limit, or sometimes a little over. He says that there is no need to drive faster than 55 mph. I told him I have the need for speed and that requires me to drive faster than 55 mph. Driving with Papa is very leisurely. It consists of people passing you on 2-lane highways, lots of braking and reading. I always bring a book because it takes a long time to get places and I need something to do. This has helped me immensely on my quest to conquer the Classics.
In conclusion, Papa says that cars are the worst investment and I shouldn't get a new one until I'm out of graduate school. I'm not sure if Snow-Valentine will make it 2 more years...here's hoping!
Ladybugs.
If you're from Missouri, you know that every fall, there is basically an infestation of ladybugs. I'm not sure if they are real ladybugs, because they are yellowish, but we'll just say they are. When the weather starts getting cooler, it is not uncommon to find ladybugs covering your ceilings or dead and crunching under your footsteps. I think this is a new problem, however, because I don't remember it happening when I was younger. Probably global warming. Poor earth...
Anyway, the ladybugs don't really bother me, but my sister and Grammy really freak out about them. When my older brother and I were gone to college, my sis got to move up to the big room in the attic, complete with a walk-in closet and personal bathroom. This must have been the year the ladybugs started invading because I remember her complaining constantly about the ladybugs. She hates them. She says they smell bad.
Grammy hates them, too. One day at dinner, we were sitting there watching the ladybugs fly around the lights and Grammy said:
"All my friends say they are harmless, but I swear they bite me"
And then she sat there and glared at them.
Papa doesn't believe that they bite and he told her that, but she won't change her mind. She also gets really mad about gnats. One time she got a forward with all these tricks to fix any problem you have, and it told her to put out dishes of apple cider vinegar to kill the gnats; they like the smell and then they drown and meet their deaths.
That forward also said that if you put a dryer sheet in your pocket when you go outside, you won't get bit by mosquitoes. One day I tried it, but I'm not sure if it worked because I already had a lot of mosquito bites. Grammy told me I have to rub the dryer sheet all over my skin first. Grammy doesn't like dryer sheets, though, because another forward she got said that someone's dryer burnt up and set the house on fire because of the residue from dryer sheets. Apparently the filter was full of the dryer sheet gunk and it caused a fire.
Grammy hangs all of the laundry on the line outside, or in the basement if it is rainy/cold/really hot etc. When we lived in Colorado, we lived in Suburbia. Apparently, our community was regulated so you could only use certain colors of paint on your house and you had to check before you built anything and you couldn't have tree houses (I'm still a little bitter about that one...) Well, one time Grammy came out to visit and did her laundry and hung all of her underwear on the line in the backyard and some of our neighbors called the Suburb Cops, or whatever they are, and they called us and told us Grammy had to take her underwear off of the line or we would be fined. Isn't that insane? Grammy is good at laundry. Whenever I lived alone and did my own laundry, I would just throw everything in together and pour some soap in. Grammy seperates everything, washes them, dries them a little bit, hangs them on the line, and then irons them. Maybe she'll motivate me to at least sort my clothes...
Anyway, the ladybugs don't really bother me, but my sister and Grammy really freak out about them. When my older brother and I were gone to college, my sis got to move up to the big room in the attic, complete with a walk-in closet and personal bathroom. This must have been the year the ladybugs started invading because I remember her complaining constantly about the ladybugs. She hates them. She says they smell bad.
Grammy hates them, too. One day at dinner, we were sitting there watching the ladybugs fly around the lights and Grammy said:
"All my friends say they are harmless, but I swear they bite me"
And then she sat there and glared at them.
Papa doesn't believe that they bite and he told her that, but she won't change her mind. She also gets really mad about gnats. One time she got a forward with all these tricks to fix any problem you have, and it told her to put out dishes of apple cider vinegar to kill the gnats; they like the smell and then they drown and meet their deaths.
That forward also said that if you put a dryer sheet in your pocket when you go outside, you won't get bit by mosquitoes. One day I tried it, but I'm not sure if it worked because I already had a lot of mosquito bites. Grammy told me I have to rub the dryer sheet all over my skin first. Grammy doesn't like dryer sheets, though, because another forward she got said that someone's dryer burnt up and set the house on fire because of the residue from dryer sheets. Apparently the filter was full of the dryer sheet gunk and it caused a fire.
Grammy hangs all of the laundry on the line outside, or in the basement if it is rainy/cold/really hot etc. When we lived in Colorado, we lived in Suburbia. Apparently, our community was regulated so you could only use certain colors of paint on your house and you had to check before you built anything and you couldn't have tree houses (I'm still a little bitter about that one...) Well, one time Grammy came out to visit and did her laundry and hung all of her underwear on the line in the backyard and some of our neighbors called the Suburb Cops, or whatever they are, and they called us and told us Grammy had to take her underwear off of the line or we would be fined. Isn't that insane? Grammy is good at laundry. Whenever I lived alone and did my own laundry, I would just throw everything in together and pour some soap in. Grammy seperates everything, washes them, dries them a little bit, hangs them on the line, and then irons them. Maybe she'll motivate me to at least sort my clothes...
Friday, January 23, 2009
Free Time.
Though Papa doesn't think he has enough free time, I feel like I'm drowning in it. Because of this, I have picked up a few new hobbies.
Bell Choir: I joined the bell choir at church (mainly because I can't say no when people ask me to do things, but also because I needed more things to do...). I play the F's and G's, which happen to be the easiest notes to play and good thing because I'm not very good. I have to really concentrate on the music and for some reason I always stick my tongue out while I'm playing. I guess that means I'm concentrating hard? I've tried to keep it in, but when I do, I mess up. Grammy comes to bells (or "belles" as it is hand-written on all of our music), too, except she doesn't ring, she babysits the two kids of one of the ringers. Grammy calls them her babies and looks forward to Wednesday evenings all week. Whenever we get to the church, Grammy stops at the front door and says "I'm going to wait for my babies, you go ahead." She needs some great-grandchildren...I'll have to pass that message along to my older brother.
Guitar: I learned how to play the guitar. My dad got me a guitar for my birthday so I've been practicing and I'm pretty good now. However, I can't play lots of the chords because my fingers are just too dang small. Sometimes I look down at my hands and think: "Those hands don't fit my body or age. I think those hands should be on a child. I have child hands." Anyway, my child hands can't play any sort of B or F# or any chord that spans more than 3 frets. I also have a lot of trouble with the F. My little brother said I just need to practice stretching my fingers more, but I'm telling you, they won't stretch. I've also written some songs, but they all kind of sound alike because of the fact that I can only reach certain chords. Oh well, I'm not planning on becoming a super star and even if I do, I definitely won't be commended on my guitar-playing skills. That's ok. I'm still learning.
The Classics: After reading the Twilight series, I decided I should start reading books that were of a higher quality and highly regarded by literary experts (not that Twilight wasn't good, but I wouldn't call it a literary masterpiece...). Thus, I began my voyage through the Classics. I started with Wuthering Heights because I remember liking it from high school, and it turns out, I still like it. It is a great book that analyzes the characteristics of very different (but at the same time, very similar) characters. After that, I went to the local library and checked out The Stranger which documents the thoughts and strange actions of a man who commits murder. From there, I read All's Quiet on the Western Front which was an excellent book that increased my dislike for war and what it does to all the people involved. Right now, I've started The Beautiful and Damned which I knew nothing about and simply bought because Barnes and Noble was having a "Buy 2, Get one free" sale and my friend I was with told me to get it. He told me "It has to be good because it is about the 20's and everything was better and fancier and richer in the 20's." Turns out, it is really good. Next, I'm going to read Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave because it is my little brother's favorite book.
Quilting: Grammy had an old quilt top in the basement that she said I could have, so now I'm learning how to quilt. I didn't realize how much you had to do to make a quilt:
1) Fix the quilt top if there are any seams ripped.
2) Watch Grammy go back and double check to make sure you got all the rips.
3) Stretch out the top and trace your quilting pattern onto it. Make sure all the tracings are spaced evenly, especially if you are Grammy because Grammy makes all things perfect.
4) Watch Grammy go back and fix the lines that aren't perfect.
5) Measure the quilt so that you know how big to cut the batting and backing.
6) Watch Grammy re-measure to make sure it is perfect.
7) Cut the backing and batting. Grammy is watching to make sure it is perfect.
8) Set up the quilt rack. Make sure everything is perfect.
9) Watch Grammy come and adjust the quilt rack.
10) Pin the backing onto the quilt rack, then the batting, then the top.
11) Watch Grammy check the quilt and re-adjust some pins.
12) Start sewing along the traced lines. My stitches are big and I'm pretty fast, but Grammy's are perfect.
This is the step we are currently on. Grammy and I will sit in the basement and quilt while listening to classic rock.
Exercising: Grammy and I go to rehab every night to exercise. I run for 30 minutes and then lift and Grammy does her 1 lb. weights and some resistance exercises and then bikes or walks on the treadmill. We're so healthy. Papa won't come...he doesn't need to, he's going to live 10 more years anyway.
Bell Choir: I joined the bell choir at church (mainly because I can't say no when people ask me to do things, but also because I needed more things to do...). I play the F's and G's, which happen to be the easiest notes to play and good thing because I'm not very good. I have to really concentrate on the music and for some reason I always stick my tongue out while I'm playing. I guess that means I'm concentrating hard? I've tried to keep it in, but when I do, I mess up. Grammy comes to bells (or "belles" as it is hand-written on all of our music), too, except she doesn't ring, she babysits the two kids of one of the ringers. Grammy calls them her babies and looks forward to Wednesday evenings all week. Whenever we get to the church, Grammy stops at the front door and says "I'm going to wait for my babies, you go ahead." She needs some great-grandchildren...I'll have to pass that message along to my older brother.
Guitar: I learned how to play the guitar. My dad got me a guitar for my birthday so I've been practicing and I'm pretty good now. However, I can't play lots of the chords because my fingers are just too dang small. Sometimes I look down at my hands and think: "Those hands don't fit my body or age. I think those hands should be on a child. I have child hands." Anyway, my child hands can't play any sort of B or F# or any chord that spans more than 3 frets. I also have a lot of trouble with the F. My little brother said I just need to practice stretching my fingers more, but I'm telling you, they won't stretch. I've also written some songs, but they all kind of sound alike because of the fact that I can only reach certain chords. Oh well, I'm not planning on becoming a super star and even if I do, I definitely won't be commended on my guitar-playing skills. That's ok. I'm still learning.
The Classics: After reading the Twilight series, I decided I should start reading books that were of a higher quality and highly regarded by literary experts (not that Twilight wasn't good, but I wouldn't call it a literary masterpiece...). Thus, I began my voyage through the Classics. I started with Wuthering Heights because I remember liking it from high school, and it turns out, I still like it. It is a great book that analyzes the characteristics of very different (but at the same time, very similar) characters. After that, I went to the local library and checked out The Stranger which documents the thoughts and strange actions of a man who commits murder. From there, I read All's Quiet on the Western Front which was an excellent book that increased my dislike for war and what it does to all the people involved. Right now, I've started The Beautiful and Damned which I knew nothing about and simply bought because Barnes and Noble was having a "Buy 2, Get one free" sale and my friend I was with told me to get it. He told me "It has to be good because it is about the 20's and everything was better and fancier and richer in the 20's." Turns out, it is really good. Next, I'm going to read Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave because it is my little brother's favorite book.
Quilting: Grammy had an old quilt top in the basement that she said I could have, so now I'm learning how to quilt. I didn't realize how much you had to do to make a quilt:
1) Fix the quilt top if there are any seams ripped.
2) Watch Grammy go back and double check to make sure you got all the rips.
3) Stretch out the top and trace your quilting pattern onto it. Make sure all the tracings are spaced evenly, especially if you are Grammy because Grammy makes all things perfect.
4) Watch Grammy go back and fix the lines that aren't perfect.
5) Measure the quilt so that you know how big to cut the batting and backing.
6) Watch Grammy re-measure to make sure it is perfect.
7) Cut the backing and batting. Grammy is watching to make sure it is perfect.
8) Set up the quilt rack. Make sure everything is perfect.
9) Watch Grammy come and adjust the quilt rack.
10) Pin the backing onto the quilt rack, then the batting, then the top.
11) Watch Grammy check the quilt and re-adjust some pins.
12) Start sewing along the traced lines. My stitches are big and I'm pretty fast, but Grammy's are perfect.
This is the step we are currently on. Grammy and I will sit in the basement and quilt while listening to classic rock.
Exercising: Grammy and I go to rehab every night to exercise. I run for 30 minutes and then lift and Grammy does her 1 lb. weights and some resistance exercises and then bikes or walks on the treadmill. We're so healthy. Papa won't come...he doesn't need to, he's going to live 10 more years anyway.
My Job.
So, after I graduated from college, I decided that I want to do something that will make a difference in the world we live in. I considered the Peace Corps and Teach for America, but I finally ended up working for the Missouri College Advising Corps (MCAC).
MCAC is the Missouri branch of the National College Advising Corps (NCAC). This is a grant-funded program that places recent college graduates into rural and inner-city high schools and community colleges to help make access to information about college easier to obtain.
The NCAC was originally funded by a grant from the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation whose goal is to help young people of exceptional promise reach their full potential through education. This is the first year that Missouri has participated in the program and as of now, there are nine college advisors serving at seven different high schools and 3 community colleges across the state. This is us:
MCAC is the Missouri branch of the National College Advising Corps (NCAC). This is a grant-funded program that places recent college graduates into rural and inner-city high schools and community colleges to help make access to information about college easier to obtain.
The NCAC was originally funded by a grant from the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation whose goal is to help young people of exceptional promise reach their full potential through education. This is the first year that Missouri has participated in the program and as of now, there are nine college advisors serving at seven different high schools and 3 community colleges across the state. This is us:
This job is very rewarding in all aspects except the monetary aspect. Isn't that always the case? There must be a job out there that actually pays a good salary to make a difference in the community and society, right? I'm still looking...
Anyway, I do love my job. Especially the students. Here are a few more students and experiences worth mentioning:
1) My very first day of work, one of my schools was having a schedule crisis. This year the school switched to an internet-based system for the grades and student information and because of this switch, a majority of the students' schedules were lost and the one counselor at the school had to figure them all out again. Anyway, because of this, the counselor's office was constantly filled with students sitting around waiting for their schedules, which gave me a great opportunity to meet them. On particular student, we'll call him J, was especially talkative. He is an Anime kid, so that should give you an idea of what he is like. When I asked him what he wants to do after high school, he told me he wants to go to MSU and then transfer to Japan and become and anime artist, which apparently has a name and that name is a Manga. He continued to show me all of his artwork that he had already done and talked constantly about his girlfriend, who he referred to as "Kitty." He also told me that last year, he got kicked out of school and put into the alternative school for bringing a Samurai sword to school and he didn't know why because he wasn't going to hurt anyone with it. He just wanted to show it to someone.
The moral of the story: Samurai swords are not allowed in high schools.
2) One day I was trying to call financial aid to ask them a question about the FAFSA, so I dialed the number and entered my long distance code and this is what I heard:
"Hey cutie, so I hear you're looking for a good time..."
At which point I slammed the phone back onto the receiver. Unfortunately, the financial aid number is 1 number away from a sex hotline. The worst part is that I didn't even catch on for a while. I just thought: "Wow, that is really weird that the Financial Aid hotline calls the caller "Cutie..."
The moral of the story: Make sure you punch the right numbers when dialing financial aid.
3) At the homecoming dance in the fall some of the teachers and I chaperoned. (I hated dances in high school, but this was great because I didn't have to dress up). Anyway, I was helping with the drinks so I would fill up cups with ice and hand them to students. Toward the middle of the dance, one student came up and was talking to me while I handed drinks out to the other students. He is kind of awkward, so after a little while he was just standing there bouncing on the balls of his feet until he looked at me and asked: "Can I buy you a drink?" I just started laughing because 1) the drinks were free and 2) I was serving them. I kind of feel bad for laughing in his face, but I couldn't help it.
The moral of the story: If you're a student, don't try to "buy" drinks for your teachers and if you're a teacher, try not to laugh in your students' face when they do try.
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