It's Picture Day

Okay, I have no energy to be witty today, so I'm just going to cut to the chase and show you some pictures I took last weekend.  And I'm just going to come out and say it--I went to the beach.  Be jealous, Inlander.  Granted, I wasn't wearin' my baggies or huarachi sandals--in fact, I was quite bundled up--but the beach is the beach, no matter what season.

The Atlantic Ocean from Chincoteague Island (pronounced Shink-oteague).  I guess it's kind of a big deal that it's one of the only places in America where you can still find wild ponies.  I don't know, from what I saw, they looked a lot like nice little domestic ponies.  Ah well, I guess I looked that gift horse in the proverbial mouth.

BOO!  Creepy horseshoe crab, about a foot from end to end.  My uncle says they're related to the flea and can get five times bigger than that!  Ug-gh-guguh!

I decided that some some serious beach bum must have decorated this for a Christmas tree.  It kind of reminds me of Castaway.

Now, pay attention here--this picture is very clever, and I'm quite proud of it.  I entitled it "Reaction."  Can you see why?

(The footprints in the upper left are mine, by the way--for some reason I was particularly jumpy that day.)

Sunset over the marshy bay waters.  Man, I'm good.  Either that, or the artist is.



Whelp, see ya later.

P.S.  It's February.

Five reasons I like living on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, thus far...

Honorable Mention:  Beach.  Dude, just twenty minutes and I'm there with the wild ponies and seashells and the wide Atlantic.

Five:  Convenient winter.  I actually went for a jog last Wednesday on clear roads and in the sun!  We've got the bitter cold (currently, anyway) that I'm used to, but there's no snow left on the ground and it's been sunny almost every day for the week and a half that I've been here.  I suppose I miss the snow, but not as much as I thought I would, because the cold and bare trees make it decidedly winter still.  Also, I think it's hilarious that they call a snow day for one inch of snow, and they have a late start for fog at least once a week (my first was last Wednesday, unbeknownst to me when I showed up to school on time/an hour early).

Four:  Nice people.  Maryland is technically the South, and they'v got that Southern hospitality.  They've even got a bit of a drawl!  Which, by the way, I've already picked up a little, especially during the school day when I'm surrounded by all my black students and the other teachers--I don't know if at school I ever finish out a word's proper ending: "Uh'm jus' finishin' up 'ere, ah'll be down t' start plannin' in a minih.  Hey, d'you wan' me t' grab the packeh y'gave me this marnin'?"  It's downright lazy talk.  But kinda fun.

Three:  Business variety.  I love seeing so many non-chain restaurants and interesting businesses.  Not that you don't get that anywhere else, but because it's all new to me here, I notice it more.  The grocery store chain I go to is called Food Lion, and when we got pizza the other night, we had to choose between Mioni's, J & J's, and Ledo's.  It makes me feel like a local!  And I can't wait for crab season so I can cash in on what Maryland is famous for.

Two:  Old buildings.  Everywhere.  You drive down any road out here (out-in-the-country criss-crossings of Route This and That or Such-and-Such Parkway, through tiny towns, past great flat fields and chicken farms, down tunnel-like avenues of twiggy trees) and old houses will be constantly shambling by--gabled windows, wraparound porches, brick, stone, lots of little windows that indicate small but plentiful rooms...you can just feel the history in the materials and the designs.  My aunt showed me a house they had considered buying...it's called Chanceford Hall (what a title!) and it is absolutely beautiful, both towering and sprawling and displaying a million windows, with bare winter trees and vines snugly surrounding it...you could go down under the house and find the old kitchen that was once staffed by servants and a fireplace plenty big enough to roast a bear, or go up in the attic and see in the beams the original pegs that the builders used in the 1760's.  Ohh.  It's my dream to live one day in a house that full of history and memories.

And Number One:  Proximity.  You can drive to pretty much anywhere of historical American significance in the morning and return home by night.  For instance, yesterday I went on a day trip to D.C.  That's right.

Woke up like it was any old Saturday morning, then the family just decided to drive up and check out the sights at our nation's capital.  So that's what we did--packed some sandwiches and hit the road...three hours later I'm gaping out the car windows in awe at the Washington Monument and the maze of freeways and traffic lights built over top of 200-year-old roads and in between 200-year-old buildings.  We went to the Smithsonian Museum of Space and Flight (an excellent choice, considering I had as a touring companion my rocket-scientist uncle) where I saw the Spirit of St. Louis (in which Charles Lindburgh made his historic flight across the Atlantic) and Amelia Earhart's plane that made the same trip, a WWII bomber cockpit, a model of the Wright Brothers' first plane, USSR and U.S. missiles from the Cold War, huge pictures taken by the Hubble telescope and Mars rovers etc. etc., and coutless other amazing, wonderful, breathtaking exhibits.  (It's all right, I won't be offended if you call me a mega-nerd--I'm too starstruck.)  Then we trotted across the Mall to the Museum of U.S. History (glimpsing the Capitol on it's Hill down the way) to catch a few exhibits before it closed, including the original Star-Spangled Banner--you know, the one Francis Scott Key saw flying over the rockets' red glare, which inspired him to pen our national anthem.  And oh my goodness, we didn't even see half of the cool stuff in all the Smithsonians...not even a tenth!  You probably couldn't spend a month there and see everything there is to see.  And we didn't even get to visit (though we drove past) the White House and the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial...and I'm sure there's tons more to do in D.C.  Luckily, I live close enough that I can go back any time!

Three hours to D.C., three to Baltimore, four and a half to New York City, four to Philadelphia...Boston, Connecticut, Vermont for the snow, Maine for the rocky coast...it's all a day or less away.  The East Coast is thick with cities where things happen, whether they mean them to or not.  You understand why I feel like I live in the middle of America?  I can feel the presence of these centers of life and history all around me--it's all at my fingertips.  I've concluded that it's the perfect place for a single twenty-something looking for adventure and life and excitement.  Which is what I am.  And you know what, dear reader?  You can visit and share it all with me!

The Comfort Zone

You won't believe this, but I was in Maryland for less than 24 hours before I landed a job.  Call it luck, call it unheard of--I call it divine appointment.  And after my first day, I'm sure hoping God's not planning on leaving me alone to deal with it!  I should start at the beginning.  Remember that interview that I had but I didn't get the job?  Well...

Wednesday, January 5--I get a call from a 410 number while I was Skyping with Elisha at my aunt and uncle's house in Austin.  Guy with Scottish accent tells me they want to interview me for a job as a math intervention teacher at their school.  I say yes, of course! but I'm not actually there--and where is there again?  Wicomico Middle School?  (That's pronounced why-com-ih-coh.)  Rings a bell...I figure out that it's the district I applied to back in December.  All right, then!

Thursday, January 6--I have a phone interview with the folks at Wi Middle, sitting on my aunt's guest room bed, with  my computer opened up to all my notes (ah, the convenience of phone interviews).

Monday, January 10--They said they were trying to get everything settled by the end of last week, so when they didn't call me Friday or Monday, I figured I didn't get it.  Ergo, blog post.

Wednesday, January 12--On the road again, doing the last leg from Oklahoma to Maryland, and I get a call from...none other than Wicomico Middle.  Lo and behold, they want to interview me again! in person! it's down to two people! they need to get everything settled by the end of the week! am I available tomorrow morning?!  No, I am not available tomorrow morning.  I will be somewhere in Kentucky.  But Friday afternoon?  Yes, that works, see you at 2:00!

Thursday, January 13--Pull up to Uncle Bob and Aunt Bonnie's house at 8:30 pm.  Exchange greetings and happiness and weariness with family.  Roll into bed.

Friday, January 14--
     8:00 am--Wake up on my own from nervousness.  Begin chatting with Aunt Bonnie, eating breakfast, interview prepping, and doing calming exercises/loafing around the house.
     10:00--Discover that a pipe burst from freezation in the house, so no water.  Gasp!  No shower?!  This is probably more information than you want to know, but there are those of us who can get away with showering every other day, and there are those who can't.  I am of the latter group.  Two whole days of grease in my hair is not a pretty sight.  But I rise to the occasion, as Anne says.
     2:00pm--Interview.
     2:40--Leave interview.
     2:55--Receive call from Wi Middle.  Bad news...they'd like to hire me for the position!  Fireworks go off in my head!  Crowds are cheering!  A few enthusiastic near-expletives!  I pull over (no driving with that adrenaline) and call my mom and aunt and text Elisha (whom I was actually in the middle of texting back that the interveiw went pretty well, but you never know).

So that's how it went.  And here's how today went.

My job is technically a long-term substitute for a 7th grade math intervention teacher.  That means I go to each of the 7 classes of pre-algebra and pull out various groups of students who need to work on different skills.  What this boils down to is that I have 126 students, I work with 5 different teachers, and I have no space in the school to call my own.

On top of that, they're junior highers.  'Nuff said.  And on top of that, this is an inner city school.  Sixty percent of the population is African-American, with a mixture of Asian, Indian, white, and  I'm sure there are some other ethnicities in there.  And do you remember junior high drama?  Well, this is the junior high drama that I experienced in little ol' Whitefish times twenty.  Let me elaborate--the following is what I witnessed in one day (remember, 7th graders, 12-14-year-olds): girl completely ignores me talking to her face, boy thinks he can solve 5q - 29 = 21 with a calculator and refuses to listen to why not, girl opens window shades to make faces at students in another class, girl opens connecting door and yells at students in other class, girl is dating so-and-so, girl has a different boyfriend every week, girl has a different boyfriend every day, boy used to be dating so-and-so (boy), boy now has a crush on so-and-so (girl), boy tells girl yeah keep looking at the teacher you go that way anyway, no you go that way, you go both ways, you're bisexual, your sandwich is bisexual, back row writes down nothing all period (except f*** you so-and-so in Sharpie on the desk), boy sent to office and found in bathroom, boy leaves for bathroom and never comes back, girl carrying prescription drugs in backpack and says she has them because she had a heart attack last Friday (not true), boy shooting rubber bands and talking across the classroom, girl just got back to school from maternity leave.

I guess it wasn't as crazy as it seems right there, but all that definitely happened today.  Shockingly, I am tired but not completely overwhelmed yet.  Maybe by tomorrow afternoon.  I've decided that I've just got to concentrate on teh problems I see and find some solutions fast, got to have a big personality (which I don't) and figure out how to get kids to listen to me, got to think of all the strategies I can possibly use and not take any crap from anybody and follow through on every single thing I say.  I've got to survive--and here's the trick, I've got to somehow get some math into these kids' heads at the same time.  While learning the system.  While learning how to be a Marylander.

I have my work cut out for me, non?  But it's no use doing things you're comfortable with all the time--you get nowhere in life, and I'm pretty sure you end up restless and unhappy.  That's my philosophy right now, anyway.  I just pray for the energy to keep up with the life I've chosen.

Finale (Episode 4)

I am here, dear reader, at last!  After 4,540 miles, 80 hours (spread over 18 days), 15 states, and 4 time zones, I've finally reached my destination in Newark, Maryland.  There's so much more east of the Mississippi, which is one of the reasons I wanted to move out here.  This final leg has definitely been the most interesting.  The signs speak for themselves:

Santa Claus, IN
Waddy, KY
Pig's Ear Rd. (WV)
Big Chimney, WV
Big Otter, WV
Big Lantern Rd. (MD)
Big Savage Mountain, MD
Noah's Ark Begin Rebuilt Here! (next to an actual wooden, ark-like structure!) (MD)
Cox Neck Rd. (MD)
Romancoke, MD
Pig Neck Creek (MD)
Beaver Neck Village, MD
Rockawalkin Rd. (MD)
Big Assawoman (and Little Assawoman) Bay (MD)

And here are the pictures...and I must give you fair warning.  I tried to take pictures of all the things I thought were significant and that I have never seen before.   So you'll feel rather like you're listening to the ravings of a fanatic--or worse, a tourist--as you're reading through these.  Ye be warned.

So I decided that I would make this last leg a sight-seeing tour--might as well, since I won't be back for a while.  My first stop was Independence, Missouri, where the Oregon Trail allegedly begins, according to the game Oregon Trail that I played in elementary school.  However, I didn't have enough time to stop at the actual Frontiers Museum, so I substituted the historical Independence Square...to make a long story short--er, these are all the sights I could have seen if I weren't in a hurry and if there wasn't a foot of snow ont eh ground.  (The next two pictures are in Independence.)

This one is an actual historic building!  I mean, you can see Harry Truman's house if you look past the trees and the grime on my windows.

An antique store where destiny takes a hand in the lives of lovers.

You could get a lot of beer in these kegs.

I can't believe how bad these pictures are.  But I had to have a record of the Missouri River, which I crossed twice.

The Gateway Arch in St. Louis was the only real national landmark I saw on my voyage over.  Needless to say, I was enthusiastic.

There are only so many takes I can do to try to fit me and a gigantic landmark in the same shot with the camera held at arm's length...in the frigid cold.  But I promise that white thing behind the trees is really the arch.

Turn around, and...there's the Mississippi River!  Feel my joy!  If I could have, I would have gone a couple hours north to see Hannibal, Missousi, where Mark Twain grew up.  Note for future trip.

And a look back from the MLK Bridge.

So I stayed in Louisville that n ight, and I was trying to think of touristy things to do there, so I thought, What is Louisville known for?  I mean, Looeyville...Looaville?...Loovul?  Aha, they're known for the name itself.  So my tourist activity here was to go around asking locals how they pronouce their city.

Me going crazy in the car from driving through those darn-blasted, everlasting--but beautiful--Appalachian Mountains.

License plate!

Psych!

West Coasters--BP actually exists!  I didn't believe it until I started seeing them around here.

Ignoring the sign and road--aren't these houses just picturesque?  I am in love with East Coast buildings!  Also, everyone tells me the scenery is unsightly in the winter when all the trees aren't green or autumnal, which may be true, but I think there's still loveliness in all those bare branches against the snow.

More pretty East Coast houses!  This is in Cumberland, Maryland, still in the Appalachians.

So right here you should be looking at a Pennsylvania hill (see the dashed state line on my GPS?), though the road never went up into it.  I also stopped in a town called Hancock which was in Maryland, but two miles south of Pennsylvania and a quarter mile north of West Virginia.

My worst picture ever, but a record of my first toll road, the Bay Bridge from Annapolis to the Peninsula where Newark is!

And that's enough for now, though there's lots more to tell.  I can say, though, that I've had--seriously--the time of my life on this trip.  And I'm looking forward to more of the same living out here in Maryland!  Thank you, reader, for keeping me in your prayers!  And now for the final time, as I say on my super-cool Voice Memo, over and out.

This must be the Witch's Narnia. (Episode 3)

I am back in the snowy lands!  (Yep, got out my boots this morning.)  And am I ever, judging from the drive we had yesterday (Dallas to Bartlesville, OK).  I can't say my cousin, who drove with me, and everyone else didn't warn me.  I think these pictures speak for themselves:

The White Witch has turned me to stone!  (Ice is a kind of stone, right?)

Rusty was a stud and drove the last half to give my white knuckles a rest.

You should see the other guys!

The shards of my window scraper after I used it as a hammer to de-ice the front of my car, posing with its conquered ice chunks.

Other notes: I've been having a wonderful series of visits, adding to both sets of grandparents and aunts and uncles in Arizona as well as my cousin in El Paso, now my aunt and uncle in Georgetown (near Austin), Andrew in McKinney (near Dallas), and currently my cousin in Oklahoma.

me and Aunt Linda

Also!  I had a job interview (on the phone) last Thursday, which was extremely exciting--here I am preparing...

...but I didn't get the job.  Sorry, folks.  I'm still planning on subbing and looking for other work when I get where I'm going.

At any rate, tomorrow it's back on the road for the final push to Maryland.  Yes, I know the weather will be horrible.  But I think I've proven myself.  Besides, if you know me, you know I hate waiting around.  Stay tuned for more updates.

Cheerio! (Episode 2)

To begin with, everything I read today becomes a British accent in my head.  I believe that this is the direct result of listening to the Chronicles of Narnia on cd practically all day yesterday.  The upshot of all this is that you, reader, must read the following with a British accent, so that we may be on the same page.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank some of the sponsors of my trip.  First of all, the Worrier Warriors.  There are too many of you to mention here, but many thanks to my mom, grandmas, aunts and uncles, and friends.  I truly appreciate that you are thinking of and praying for me.  And now, to all you whom I've just thanked for worrying, I entreat you to STOP.  It's a drive across the country, not into a terrorist attack or a murderer community or a hurricane.  Besides, I'm not alone as you thought.  Which brings me to my next...I would now like to extend my gratitude to my traveling companions: cell phone, iPod, camera, gps, cd player, Zune.  Though you come with myriad cords attached, you make my drive a safer one.  And a more interesting one, which is more important.

Speaking of interesting...

New Mexico, Land of Enchantment.  And of snow, apparently.  And vandalism.

New Mexico is a lot like I remember it from years ago: a whole lot of flat nothing, broken up hither and thither by a speed limit sign or a particularly thick growth of yuccas.

Also, did you know that the Continental Divide happens to run through New Mexico?  This interesting bit of trivia was quite hammered into my head, as I passed numerous billboards that indicated all kinds of things you can get at the Continental Divide: Continental Divide Turquoise Jewelry, Continental Divide Leather, Continental Divide Mexican Imports, Continental Divide Snake Stuff...Continental Divide Native American Gifts, Continental Divide Moccasins, Continental Divide New Mexico Souvenirs, Southwest Blankets, Southwest Dolls, Imported Textiles, Fireworks! Pottery! Exit Now! Continental Divide Stuff!  Then I passed the actual Continental Divide, and there was one big gas station...still in the middle of nowhere.

Me and my hot-shot cousin, who's stationed in El Paso.

Just before I met him for lunch I drove over the Rio Grande, which I thought was significant because it's a river I've actually heard of.  Unfortunately, I do not have a picture of it because the person who was supposed to take it is a picky picture taker and couldn't get a good shot.  Also, she was driving over a bridge at 70 miles per hour at the time.

This is Texas.

Well, this is the boring part, anyway.  Texas actually welcomed me kindly and told me to "Drive Friendly, The Texas Way."

Ah, yizz, thizz is whut is colled the Pecos gobbledeguppawigga.  I finally turned off that endless interstate to take the more interesting highway route through small towns and historical places.  This historical place turned out to be a historical dud:

...It looked so boring that I didn't bother reading the sign, so what you see is what you get.

But aside from that one, backwater Texas has some pretty great places:

Iraan, with "Iraan's Pride, the Big Red Band"

Eldorado (Town of...Black Gold, perhaps? "oyl, that is")

Poor Hollow (stream)

Toe Nail Tr.

Sleepy Hollow (stream--spooooky)

Grit

Gooch Cemetery

Art

Chew Cemetery

Play Shuffleboard at Fuzzy's Corner!

Oatmeal

And here are some more I like from other parts I drove through yesterday:

Dragoon Rd.

Hook and Anchor Rd.

War Rd.

"Caution, Dust Storms May Exist" (for the record, I have never debated the existence of dust storms)

"Littering is unlAWFUL" (get it, awful, unlAWFUL?)

Truth or Consequences (another Phantom Tollbooth town)

Elephant Butt...oops, sorry, Elephant Butte

Buy-Moria...dang it, again!  I mean Balmorhea

Nutt Ranch (with a road leading off to...nuttin')

"Don't Mess With Texas" (littering sign)

Right-o, then.  I'm back on the road in another day.  Cheerio from Texas!

[This concludes our British accent part of the program.  You may resume your ordinary accent.]

Episode 1

As you know, dear reader, I am in Tucson, Arizona.  And it snowed yesterday.  Yes, this is where people go to escape snow.  No, I am not joking.  My family here accused me of pied-piper-ing the snow down here, and I neither confirm nor deny this theory.  You see, I cried tears of sadness in bidding the snow farewell about 20 miles north of St. George, Utah, so I can't say that Mt. Lemmon dressed in white, frost on my car this morning, and gusts of chilly wind are not wholly unwelcome to me, though my cold-wuss relatives may feel differently.

If you know me at all, you already know I am a nerd.  Therefore, the following should come as no shock, O Respectful and Humorous Reader.  Some time ago I determined that such an adventure as I am having must be documented.  Surely--surely, I thought to myself--many pleasant and hilarious things are liable to happen to one when one is driving across the country.  I have been slightly disappointed in this so far, but not knowing this, I equipped myself with my camera and my iPod, which, dear reader, I am happy to report has a lovely little feature called Voice Memo with which one may record words, without the trouble of writing them down (this feature is especially useful for traveling writers who do not own a hands-free and attention-free motor vehicle).  Yes, it is quite true.  However, sad to say, my brilliant Voice Memo plan backfired a bit, because I came to discover that I feel extremely...what's the word...idiotic talking to myself, into a machine.  (If you're wondering, No, you do not feel like a cool newspaper reporter as I had hoped.  You feel idiotic, like I said.)  But, for lack of more flattering options, I forced myself to stammer out this and that notable thought or event that occurred along the road.  At any rate, with such essential equipments that I had, I was ready to make a photomentary, a voice recordamentary, and ultimately a blogomentary.  (It's hard to tell, but that's what this is, by the way.)  Following is the transcript from my car notes:

Nope, I don't have the guts to print it.  But here are some fun/funny signs I passed...

Memory Ln.
Arlee, MT, "Where They Distribute Things"
Whitworth Dr. [alma mater, baby!]
Bearmouth Area [really, Montana?]
Wisdom, MT [reminds me of The Phantom Tollbooth]
Speed Limit 80 [UT--I know, right?!]
Sulpherdale, UT [pee-yew!]
Miner's Creek Prospector's Club [AZ--I wonder what they prospect...]
Horse-pitality RV Park [AZ]
Surprise, AZ [too bad it's on the map--if it weren't, you'd just be driving along, then--Surprise! there's a city here!]
Miracle Mile [road in AZ]
Michelle Rd. [AZ]

And here is the photomentary portion...

 That's what sardines would look like if they were bags and boxes filled with my life.

Adios, Whitefish!

Um, yeah.  It's pretty scary.

Ah, I will miss driving Montana's dirty, slushy roads.

Elisha, I have a job for you which you will Relish.

Hoary, foggy, Scrooge-ish frost I found on my car after my first night on the road.

Cruisin' in style in central Utah.

Back on good old Highway 93 on the other side of Las Vegas (in Monana, in case you didn't know, I live a mile off of 93).  Little did I know, 93 in the south has traffic on it, especially the bit between Vegas and Hoover Dam.  It's all right, though, I spent the hour lunching on granola bars, following Nevada RVR DOG, and rocking out to music with the windows down.

I spy a cactus!!  I'm officially in the Southwest.  (Boulder City, NV)

I love those dam signs on Hoover Dam.  And this one happened to fit with my current state.

If you're from Arizona:  Look, it's the new bridge!
If you're from anywhere else and weren't aware they were building a bridge so the highway doesn't go over Hoover Dam anymore:  Look, it's a bridge!

Solar powered telephone in the middle of the Arizona desert.  I guess they have enough sun or something.

This is your cactus on drugs.

Me with crazy cactus and desert wind.

I knew you wouldn't believe me, so I took a picture of what my car looked like when I woke up this morning--notice the authentic cacti in the background in addition to the authentic frost covering my car.

And now, Happy New Year!  Make a resolution, eat chili, drink champagne, kiss someone, bang pots and pans--whatever you do, I entreat you to ring in the New Year with joy and optimism!

For One Million Dollars, it's...Name That Christmas Carol!

'Tis the season for my famous--make that infamous--obsession with Christmas-themed puzzles.  I have a confession to make, though: I love puzzles because it's just an excellent way of showcasing my extensive bank of useless knowledge.  (This also happens to be the reason I sporcle.)

...And now, the moment you've all been waiting for--for your chance to win One Million Dollars, it's...Name That Christmas Carol!  Contestants, you will be given a verse or part of a verse that is found in the text of a well-known Christmas carol.  Your job will be to think of the carol whence it came.  Once you have read each of the 30 Christmas carol verses, writing down or remembering your answers, click on the link at the end to see if you have won...One Million Dollars!  A small hint: wherever you see an ellipsis (...), that means some words have been removed that just might have given away the answer.  And remember, this is a test of your knowledge of Christmas carols, not of your skills in googling, so if you use any source besides your own brilliance, you are ineligible to receive your prize of One Million Dollars!

Ready?  Here we go!

Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me I pray.

Bless all the dear children in thy tender care
And take them to heaven to live with thee there.  (1)

Baby Jesus...

I am a poor boy, too...

I have no gift to bring...

That's fit to give a king...

Shall I play for you...on my drum?  (2)

He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
And he only paused a moment when
He heard him holler "Stop!"  (3)

Glorious now behold Him arise,
King and God and Sacrifice.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Earth to the heav'ns replies.  (4)

And by the light of that same star
Three wise men came from country far;
To seek for a king was their intent,
And to follow the star wherever it went.  (5)

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king,
"Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king,
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold."  (6)

Shepherds in the field abiding,
Watching o'er your flocks by night,
God with man is now residing;
Yonder shines the infant Light.  (7)

Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing...  (8)

In his master's steps he trod,
Where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor,
Shall yourself find blessing.  (9)

Christmas makes you feel emotional,

It may bring parties or thoughts devotional.

Whatever happens or what may be,

Here is what Christmastime means to me.  (10)

...Now ye hear of endless bliss
Joy! Joy!
Jesus Christ was born for this;
He hath ope'd the heav'nly door,
And man is blessed evermore;

Christ was born for this,

Christ was born for this.  (11)

God bless the master of this house
Likewise the mistress too!
And all the little children
That 'round the table go  (12)

Fast away the old year passes; ...
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses; ...
Sing we joyous all together, ...
Heedless of the wind and weather. ...  (13)

Hasten now, good folk of the village
Hasten now, the Christ-Child to see
You will find him asleep in the manger
Quietly come and whisper softly
Hush, hush, peacefully now He slumbers
Hush, hush, peacefully now He sleeps.  (14)

From God our heavenly Father
A blessed angel came.
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by name. ...  (15)

How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear Christ enters in.  (16)

The shepherds feared and trembled
When lo, above the earth
Rang out the angel chorus
That hailed our Saviour's birth!  (17)

Hail the Heav'n-born Prince of Peace!

Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Ris'n with healing in His wings.
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth!  (18)

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe
Help to make the season bright;
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.  (19)

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men."  (20)

O come, O Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
And drive away the shaves of night
And pierce the clouds and bring us light.  (21)

When the clock is striking twelve,
When I'm fast asleep,
Down the chimney broad and black,
With your pack you'll creep;
All the stockings you will find
Hanging in a row;
Mine will be the shortest one,
You'll be sure to know.  (22)

There's a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well,
The sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow.  (23)

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need; to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!  (24)

Now the ground is white,
So go it while you're young,
Take the girls tonight
And sing this sleighing song.
Just bet a bob-tailed nag,
Two-forty for his speed,
Hitch him to an open sleigh
And crack! You'll take the lead.  (25)

But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel strain have rolled
Two thousands years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.  (26)

Come to Bethlehem and see

Him whose birth the angels sing;

Come, adore on bended knee

Christ, the Lord, the newborn King.  (27)

…Son of God, love’s pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face,

With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.  (28)

So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,

Come, peasant, king, to own him.

The King of kings salvation brings,

Let loving hearts enthrone him.

Raise, raise the song on high!

The virgin sings her lullaby.

Joy! joy! for Christ is born,

The babe, the son of Mary!  (29)

No more let sins and sorrows grow,

Nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make His blessings flow

Far as the curse is found,

Far as the curse is found,

Far as, far as the curse is found.  (30)

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You Can't Fight a Tidal Wave

"All children, except one, grow up."

I lament that I am not the one.

Years ago I made houses in the snow and gleefully tried to catch snowflakes on my tongue.  Now I think about what to wear to stay warm and how I need to start my car early to get to work on time.

I remember a time when Here was everything--my family, my school, my friends, all were sewn into the soil of Whitefish, Montana.  Now I visit family across the country, have friends across the world, and--oh so dauntingly--it is up to none but me to figure out what to do with my time.  I was so happy as a kid.  And growing up take so much work.

But there's something to be said for it, too.  There's something in the satisfaction of being able to drink wine, buy anything with the click of a mouse, choose what to do with your life.  Anything at all.  And to know about life and the wide world--all its glories, all of its dirty secrets.  Grown-up love and grown-up hate.

Peter Pan would be disappointed with that speech.  But Peter, I've done my time and I've made the most of it.  And there are hundreds of thousands of new kids to take my place--kids with fresh smiles, with backs that don't get thrown out while snow-shoveling, with soft corners and dazzling imaginations.

Besides, the new ones are much funnier than I ever was.  At daycare we were listening to "Glo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oria! In excelsis Deo..." on Christmas radio, and one of my modest four-year-old boys declared, "This song makes me want to marry a girl!"  He subsequently turned beet-red.  But see, you just can't appreciate that kind of comedy unless you see it from up here.  And messy as grown-up life turns out to be, it's an "awfully great adventure," after all.

It's a week and a day late, but I am thankful that time is a tidal wave.

how i moved to maryland

Kids, in the summer of 2010, I had just graduated college and was looking for a job.  That was the year I lived at your Grandma G's house in my old bedroom.  Of course, it no longer had Mickey Mouse on the walls, and the top bunk bed was back in your Uncle Trevor's old room, but it was still just as full of all my junk and dreams as when I was growing up.

All that summer I was looking for a teaching job.  I had the usual college-graduate high hopes of getting the ideal job in an ideal part of the country where I would meet the ideal man and thus begin the ideal adult life.  But if I've learned anything, kids, it's that life never quite goes the way you expect it to.

To begin with , of the fifty applications I sent out all over the country that summer, only one school called back and asked me for an interview.  It was in Douglas, Wyoming.  Now, I never, ever wanted to live in Wyoming because I couldn't think what I'd do with myself in a state that has an even smaller population that Montana.  But I was thinking that maybe this would be my big break.  It could have been, I guess.  I could have gotten the job, met the ideal man, discovered that it was actually an ideal part of the country, and we'd all be living comfortably in Douglas, Wyoming, instead of here.  But as you know, kids, that did not happen.  I didn't get that job.  But it's a good thing I didn't, because if I had, I never would have moved to Maryland.

And I wouldn't have gotten a daycare job back in Whitefish.  Now, call me crazy, but little kids have a way of winning your heart.  And there were plenty of little kids at the daycare where I worked that fall.  There were also plenty of kids who tested my patience.  In fact, sometimes you guys remind me of them.  But, if I had never worked at that daycare, I would never have learned to love you even when you test me to my limits.  And, if I had never gotten the daycare job, I wouldn't have gone across the parking lot to the church to eat lunch every day.

And I never would have felt so much a part of the church.  I could feel my roots sink down with every minute I spent there.  I played in the band every week, I taught children's church on Wednesday nights, I went to a small group on Sunday nights.  And everything got me closer to people whom I came to think of as part of my family.  If I hadn't stayed in Whitefish, I never would have grown to love church people and been so determined to find a good church when I moved away.

If I had gotten a teaching job and moved out of Grandma G's house that fall of 2010, I never would have grown so many roots, and I would have missed out on one amazing friendship in particular.  That was the fall I went dancing in a swing club for the first time, at sushi for the first time, got in shape for the first time, and actually enjoyed life for the first time since I left my old life in Spokane.  It was a strong friendship that was really good for me, so I made sure it lasted even after he moved away two months later.  And if he hadn't moved away, leaving me with the taste of how nice life can be when you make the effort to be bold and make new friends, I probably would have lingered longer in the comfort of home, and I may have never moved to Maryland after all.

Now, I had always wanted to move to the east coast.  I don't quite know why.  And Maryland, since it touches the Atlantic Ocean and is three hours from Washington D.C. and four from New York City, was good enough for me.  You could kind of say moving there was a dream come true.

So you see, kids, life never goes according to plan, but you can bet that it'll work out in the end.  When I walked across that stage and moved the tassel on my graduation cap, I didn't know I'd be learning how to love at a daycare, or that I'd meet so many wonderful new people, or that I'd get to live on the east coast like I'd always wanted.  But as it turned out, I'm glad my high hopes didn't come true the way I had planned.  Because moving to Maryland was another link in the chain of events that has gotten all of us here today....  But that's a different story.

Does this writing sound vaguely familiar or confusing?  Click here for the answer!
Also, for the sake of clarity, the slated move date is December 26.

Never Mind

Reader, you are interested in one of three things.  One, knowing what's going on in my life; two, reading my mind; or three, just being entertained.  Well, you are in luck, because I will address all of these, following:

First, I will not tell you everything going on in my life.  It is privileged information.  You'll have to ring me up to get the inside scoop.  Sorry.

Second, you can never read my mind, because I disclose herein only a limited number of thoughts (censored, if you will).  Too bad, so sad.

Third, I'm always funny.  Oh wait, that's what my funny funny college friend would say.  Me, I am only sometimes funny--and mostly I am too serious.  At any rate, my apologies, because today is one of the latter instances.

Ah, now, having gone through all of that so logically, I realize that I have absolutely nothing to say to anyone.  I guess my grand scheme for finding something to write about after a rather busy week has fallen to pieces.  I can only rehash old thoughts, reprint old writing, or plagiarize.  So never mind.

All right, all right, I'll admit that it irks me to have nothing to say, so I write anyway, though it's nothing.  So, for the sake of not going more than a week without writing, I will recite a poem I wrote many years ago.  The following extremely insightful piece is proof positive that yours truly is a poetic genius and of course deserves to be widely published an also named the next Poet Laureate.  Also, I should be given royalties including a crown and scepter.  [sigh...in my own little corner, in my own little chair...]

Autumn


When football season starts,
When you wake up before the sun,
When the first leaf flutters
And floats to frosted grass--
Then you know autumn is here.


When it's too cold to leave the windows open,
When you have to turn the thermostat on,
When you step outside in the morning
And there is a different smell, tingling--
Then you know autumn is here.


When the scurrying squirrels start carrying nuts,
When all the fawns have lost their spots,
When the Canadian geese are earnestly flying
Their practice runs above the trees--
Then you know autumn is here.


When you begin seeing pumpkins on doorsteps
When the grocery store freezers fill up with turkeys,
When all the flowers wither to brown
And the grass gives up its summer green--
Then you know autumn is here.


When the harvest moon peeks over the trees,
When the leaves crackle merrily under your feet,
When the days become shorter and shorter
And the nights grow longer and longer--
Then you know autumn is here.
And winter is on its way.


September 5, 2002

Road Construction and School Buses

My name is Michelle, and I am a bad driver.  It has taken me years to admit.  But, after watching one too many of my passengers shoot a hand out to the door or overhead handle while I'm flying around a curve, denial has finally given way to reality.  And herein lies the truth.

I am writing this partly as a confession, but also partly as defense--a chance for you to see the rules of the road through my eyes.  You see, I am a bad driver, but you will not die in my car.  (And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die...)  After all, I've got seven years of driving, no tickets and no (real) accidents.

So you know how there's the regular white speed limit signs, then there's the yellow ones that tell you to slow down around curves?  Yeah, the yellow ones are just suggestions.  You may have been told something different, but this is true.  Besides, if you slow down to 55 in a 75 zone on the interstate, you'll be a) laughed out of existence and branded a grandma driver, b) rear-ended, and c) going way too slow for your own good (velocitation, schmelocitation).  Now, the white speed limit signs that are preceded and succeeded by myriads of bright orange signs--including the ominous "Fines Double in Work Zones"--those you should pay attention to.  Um, sort of--when it's Sunday and there's no one there, or when the car right in front of you is going 10 over, for heaven's sake don't be the prude who holds everyone up.  If other people are going the same exact speed as you, you are not going to be the special one who gets pulled over.  (Unless you're driving a red sports car).

So besides road construction, there are some things in driving that I hate and avoid at all costs.  The first is speed bumps.  For these I have much disdain.  I'm sorry, but I cannot actually make myself slow to 2 miles per hour to go over speed bumps.  If there is any chance I can go a different route or even miss it with two wheels, by golly, I'll take it.  The second thing that gets my blood boiling is school buses (blast those things!).  I think I'm allergic.  When I see a big yellow bus ahead on the road...well, my skin starts to crawl, and the thing seems to grow to the size of the whole road, blocking out the sun of freedom.  Because you know if you get stuck behind it, you will inevitably be taking an extra 30 minutes to get to your destination.  And not only that, but it'll be the absolutely maddening stop-go-stop-go that honestly makes me contemplate gunning it into whatever vehicle is in front of me just to put myself out of misery.

And even that is not the worst when it comes to school buses.  The worst is when you're driving on the other side of the road and there's a bus coming toward you.  Ready, this happened to me the other day.  It's slugging along toward me, right, going a "safe" speed and all, yellow caution lights blinking away.  I slow down to 5 miles under the limit like a good driver, thinking, "Maybe the driver is a decent human being and won't stick out his stop sign 'til I pass, maybe I can pass it before it stops--I think I can I think I can..."  Ah, but no. Yellow lights change to red, the sign pokes out, I'm going too fast to stop, I whiz past, the driver blares his dumb horn, and the kids look at me like I'm a psycho child-killer.  No really, you should have seen their faces.  That put me in a sour mood for an hour.  Fortunately, I am no longer bitter.  You know, the only thing on my record is a warning for failing to yield to a school bus.  I was on the other side of the road of a blasted four-lane highway!  For the love of peace!  No, I'm not bitter about that anymore, either.

There you have it all.  Most of it.  I guess there were a couple of incidences in which I may have almost changed lanes into anther car.  And this one time I ripped off part of my bumper with a tree.  And I may or may not be the best judge of changing stoplights or slow down enough in dodgy weather.  Oh, and I do have this naive belief that I am invincible to deer and other common roadkill.  I chalk it all up to my cherished love of living on the edge.

So now you have the truth.  Judge me as you will.  But I maintain that, though I am admittedly a bad driver, though I have made many hearts pound an palms sweat, I will not kill you.  I will not injure your back or give you a concussion.  And I will not run over your dog.  Provided it is not a particularly obnoxious dog.

Belief

Being a Christian is an interesting experience, for lack of a better word.  Interesting...difficult in unexpected ways, often counter-intuitive, confusing, yet at moments so clear.  I've felt all those things--the questioning, understanding--in a recurring pattern over the years, even while still believing in the basic Christian shebang and trying to "live it."  But I guess I never seriously noticed how unique (ah, there's the word) my place in the world is--as someone who has deeply-held beliefs--until I thought about it from the perspective of someone who doesn't share those beliefs.

If you think about it, the vast majority of the world disagrees with your beliefs, dear reader.  I mean, don't quote me on that, but it just seems to me that even though you can find them, you're more likely--probability-wise--to bump up against people who are not of one mind with you at the religious and philosophical level.  And, to me, that is the level of life that is the most real.  Belief, influenced by this, that, and the other, is the deepest part of a person.  And it is therefore the most personal and fragile.  Yet people see evidence of your belief every day, because it also happens to be the strongest influence on a person's character and actions.  Whether you realize it or not.

Admittedly, my beliefs typically sit comfortably and out of the way on the back burner, in a file cabinet in some corner of my mind.  Life has the potential of getting a little messy when they're brought up to the front.  But what happens when they are dredged up?  I like sharing my beliefs, despite the fact that they are so personal and thinking hard about them frequently launches me into perplexity.  The truth is, I hate the thought that I could turn into a close-minded, brainwashed, ultra-religious busybody, so I use my own and other people's tough questions to force me to test my beliefs and the actions that stem from them.  I mean, if we're ultimately searching for the Truth rather than support for some pet religion, that serious testing and sharpening can only get us closer to it.  Difficult questions are disconcerting but necessary.  That being said, if you ever want to challenge to something I believe or do, dear reader, please do not hold back.  (If you're a Bible-reader, glance at Proverbs 27:17.)  [A small note on Truth: I suppose that the existence of only one Truth is a belief in itself.  I'd address this more in depth, except for the fact that it's ridiculously difficult to do any kind of philosophizing following the assumption that Truth is relative.  Here's an excellent example of a hole in my beliefs--meaning that I believe something that I can't necessarily explain.]

Living in this way--which results in flux of belief and more often in flux of how to reconcile belief and action--gives me a singular position and perspective.  As an academically-minded human being, I sift through the theologies and philosophies of my friends, church leaders, professors, the Bible itself, and anything else I can get from God himself.  More intuition0based people look at experiences of life and heart.  And because I'm on my own trajectory, doing everything I can to find what's really good and real and how I should live after knowing that--well, I'm unique.  I'm unique because (moment of obvious truth) no one has experienced quite what I have.  And the same is true for you, dear reader (I hope you saw that coming).  It's sort of unnerving to be on your own like that, but that's life.  I mean, it's impossible to really know someone else's mind, so we have to make up our own minds.  And besides, isn't it pretty shallow to believe something just because someone else does and you don't want to be alone?  (Aha!  Another tenet of mine, one that stems from my belief in the value of YOU as an individual who can think for yourself.  If you believe that, you've got to believe in the above idea, too.)

The point of all this is, it's one of the very healthy things in life to know what you believe and why you believe, and what makes you act and think the way you do.  At any rate, I hope for me and for you that, in the midst of all the crazy and equally sane beliefs out there, we all get closer to knowing what's really real, whatever that may be, and have the guts to stick up for our own beliefs and actions.

In case you're wondering, my recent deep-thinking reflections (if my blog serves as any indication of my thoughts--don't worry, though, I'm sure I'll snap out of it soon) have been influenced by several recent theological discussions as well as reading the book Blue Like Jazz (most of which I strongly agree and identify with) and articles in the magazine Relevant, including this one I looked at today.