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Showing posts from 2016

Cada Dia

Every day. Every day, I see things that I hate. Things that make me raw. Don't misunderstand:  Life is good. Very, very good. But there are still injustices. And in teaching, you see things every day that hurt your heart a little. You see kids struggle to do things--simple things, like add and subtract--that you and your own children did easily. You see kids struggle to hold a pencil. You see kids who don't have pencils, who, at the age of eight, get themselves dressed and ready and walk to school, all without a parent  to help. You see teens who have built walls higher than the Great Wall of China. lest they become vulnerable by letting you in, which, of course, is where you need to be in order to truly help them. You see a beautiful little boy, hungry for a woman's love and attention, because his mom isn't around much. (You know that he has an amazing, dedicated father who is one of the best people you know. And you wonder how his dad's love and care isn...

2015-2016 School Year in Review: Part I, August 2015-March 24, 2016

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It's been a whirlwind school year. I know that is true of every year, but wow! We started school knowing that Kenna was having a hip issue. She injured her hip in April 2015 while running in a track meet. We just thought it was a strained hip flexor. She rested for about 6 weeks and it felt much better. In June she started playing volleyball again, and by mid-July it hurt. In August Mark McDonald finally diagnosed impingement. At that point I knew she probably had the same issues that my friend Steph Harms had and would probably need surgery. Still, we were trying to schedule an appointment with Dr. White, the surgeon.  We had to wait till the end of September, then do an arthrogram (MRI with dye injected so that the tear in the labrum would show). By mid- October we had a diagnosis and a surgery date, which was December 22nd. Most of the school year has been marked with visits to the surgeon and Ron, her awesome physical therapist. She is healing amazingly well but we do th...

I Love Being Wrong...About My Kids

Generally speaking, I don't love being wrong. I'm kind of a proud person, so, while I'm willing to learn from my mistakes, I don't relish making them.   I also don't take much pride in being argumentative or debating a point; if someone wants to be right, that's okay by me, unless it is a moral issue that I need to speak up for, or unless I'm dealing with my own kids and I feel compelled to correct them in order to give them guidance. Having said that,  I love being wrong about people.   I have a sign hanging in my kitchen and another, identical one in my classroom.  It'a quote by Jefffry R. Holland, one of my favorite apostles. It says: Think the best of each other, especially of those you say you love. Assume the good and doubt the bad.  I absolutely love this quote! I believed this before Elder Holland said it, but since he said it, I'm even more convinced that it's true.  In fact, I believe that this statement is the essence of char...

The Thing I Hate, or Why My Heart is Still in Athletic Training

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My degree is in Athletic Training, or sports medicine. I spent five years studying to be a trainer, and I absolutely loved it. My biggest desire (outside of  being a good person, being available for my family, and living the Gospel) since I graduated from college eighteen years ago has been to return to college and get my master's degree and work as a trainer. It's the one vocation I'm sure I'd love. I get tired of waiting until I can go back to school. I want to be a trainer. I want to evaluate injuries and feel the endpoint when doing an anterior drawer test and know that I can palpate the coracoid process and deltoid tuberosity perfectly and efficiently. I want to use my hands and mind to heal the body and use my heart and soul to connect with people. That's what I want. And yet, I can't stand seeing kids get injured. I hate seeing a serious injury occur. I hate watching  grown boys and girls writhe in pain. I hate seeing the crippling dysfunction that ...

Reflecting on 2015--Corbin's Baptism, Surgery, and Wrapping up the Year

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Well, 2015 was over two days ago; tonight is January 2, 2016.  Two weeks ago I was about to begin the best and wildest two weeks of the year. (I'm pretty sure that's true; I don't think I've seen two weeks this busy since last Christmas. It's always busy when it's cold and everyone's inside for 10 straight days and we're eating a lot and doing a lot of laundry and getting on each other's nerves and having fun.) Two weeks ago, we were looking forward to Corbin's baptism the next day. Grandma Sally and John were here and we had just gotten pedicures and it had been a whirlwind week at school finishing grading and finals and then I went straight home (well, to the gym, my sometimes home) to watch the Haxtun/Holyoke game and voila! Everyone was there. All of the grandparents. And I knew surgery was very close and life was good because it was vacation and I had no worries for just a couple of days. So, Corbin was baptized on December 22 and t...

Smores on the Porch

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Our Home in Stony Creek

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I While in NY, I took a few pictures of interesting areas in our home. Our house is definitely an Adirondack home: One room is a log room, built by my dad. He cut the trees, peeled the logs, and built the room. Two rooms, added when I was nine, have knotty pine paneling. I stayed in my brother's old room, which my parents changed to an office. Mom used it when she was in college. She is a really avid reader and reads a lot of what I would consider modern classics.  She loves artwork and values a lot of different cultures. Here's a Monet hanging next to a map showing the various Native American tribes in America.  And, of course, she loves the Yankees. Has since she was a girl.  She also loves the beach and has collected lots of shells and sand dollars in Florida.  Here's the front porch. My parents screened it in after I left home. Wise move; the mosquitoes at home are horrid.  The furniture is vintage wicker--the real deal. It belonge...

#WhenitRainsitPours #AlmostMadeittoDenver

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We've had a long, good, emotional,short Christmas break. This is a picture of the boys at war (They got pellet guns for Christmas.)  Well, at the moment it's not raining on my little corner of the universe, but it's been a bit of a showery week. A week ago this morning we were at Porter Adventist Hospital, checking Kenna in for her surgery and then waiting during her surgery and then talking to Dr. White after her surgery and seeing her and helping her and sleeping there and crying when she hurt and smiling when she made it down the hall on her crutches. Between now and then, we've done Christmas Eve (simple) and Christmas  day. (Also simple...and late! We didn't open presents till 8,  my mom did the pies, and the gifts were a little haphazard since I normally shop Christmas week and I couldn't.)   We've stayed up nights and adjusted the CPM and given meds and taken meds away and massaged feet and combed hair and done all kinds o...

Memories of Nana Droddy

My memories of Nana are limited. I was barely eight when she died in December 1982. I'm pretty sure that most of the memories I have occurred after I was 4  or 5 years old. When I was five, we lived in her cabin on States Road in Stony Creek. I'm pretty sure she came to visit us a few times while we were there. My memories of the cabin are of watching her mix drinks (martinis, I think). I think she and Ed, her boyfriend, had drinks every night. I'm not sure if this was a tradition that she and Ed started together, but I do know that Nana and grandfather had a bar in their basement in Shrewsbury and that they liked to entertain friends there. Anyway, I remember her mixing the drinks and I especially remember the smell of the green olives that went in them. My parents have the icebox that she used as a counter for mixing them; she had the hinges on the top door changed so that the door opened downward instead of sideways, making a great little table. I also remember be...
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 We went to a place in Lake Luzerne near where I went to school. It was called Bear Slides. We drove along a back road that paralled the Hudson and then walked a mile or so into the woods. This was the highlight of the trip. I would've gone several more times, but it started raining the next day, and it rained and rained (New York style).   I  love this picture of Corbin. It's as if his childhood is the sunlight, reflecting off of him and saying, "You only have so long to enjoy this moment."