Signs of Summer AND a Fun New Game

Despite the snow clouds lingering on my mountain, and the freezing temperatures currently sucking the life out of my newly planted garden, I would like to announce that summer is only days away.
You would have to be blind (snow blind, perhaps?) to miss the signs of summer's approach.

Our styling new swim caps have arrived, and the pool is being prepped for our first early morning lap-a-pool-ooza.

Sweet branch buddies are appearing on my stoop unannounced to invite me on bike rides (The bike ride invitation was last weekend. This weekend they will be arriving unannounced via snowmobile) .

The snow cone place has opened. Oh, Peach-colada-berry. I think I've missed you most of all!

At school, the finals schedule is on the board.

The turn-in-baskets are as close to empty as they have been all year.

The giant pencils have made their appearance, and the Homeroom Security Testing Threat Level has been raised to red. Blood red.

And everyone and everything in the school, from the teachers, to the kidlets, to the pieces of tape on the back of my posters, have stopped functioning the way they are supposed to.

For example, one teacher that I know...lets call her "Lindy"... should have spent Saturday scoring papers, updating grades, and or cleaning her apartment. Instead, she spent three hours at a bridal shower, uploaded photos for a blog post, and went to see Iron Man 2. Oh, and she also spent a great deal of non-productive time coveting Yamammy and Zainab's hair. Covet, covet, covet.

Of course, all of that procrastination might have been in self defense. The alternative being thinking about the impending yearbook sorting and distribution stress-fest that is "the last two days of school".
Ahhhhhh!!!!!!! Yearbook Sorting and Distribution!!!!!!!!Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!



Quick! Think about the hair! Covet the hair! Hurry!

Phew. That was close!

Now, lets continue procrastinating by playing a new game that I just invented called "Who is in in Line at Check Stand #6?"

The game is played like this... I go to Walmart to pick up the random odds and ends that I forgot to purchase during my Walmart run the previous day. You get to pretend to be the clerk and try to figure out who is buying these random items and for what purpose.

Don't feel bad if you can't figure it out. I go to Walmart, like, twelve times a week, so you will have plenty of opportunities to hone your skills.
So, if you were the clerk at check stand #6, who would you think is buying these items (extra sharp tent stakes, a shower curtain liner, raisin bran) and for what purpose?

A. A "Survivor-Man" wanna-be who is planning to attempt to survive a weekend in Massacre Rocks with nothing but a shower curtain liner tent, some cereal, and the clothes on her back.

B. A novice murderer who needs to dispose of a body and is somewhat confused about the term "serial killer".

C. A gardener with a black thumb who is planning on spending Saturday evening trying to rescue her newly planted garden from the late-May snowfall, and Sunday evening watching the finale of LOST while pretending to share a box of Dharma Crunch with Sayid and Sawyer.

D. An aspiring torturer preparing to do her homework from the Dick Cheney School of Interrogation who happens to have an affinity for dried fruit and a problem with irregularity.

or

E. (Insert your original guess here)

Feel free to hum the Jeopardy theme music while you answer.

The Mother's Day Phone Call OR The Post That Is So Freakin' Long, It Took Me a Week To Write It

9:01 - Dad starts dialing Greg’s number and asks, “Think we can make this call without swearing this year?” Mindy is doubtful.

9:02 - Dad finishes dialing the number, pauses, then, with his voice drenched with sarcasm, says, “Oh good. The line is busy. His other parents must be calling him.” Mindy is momentarily impressed that none of those sentences contained a H#!! or D@$^ .

9:03 - Dad dials again. Greg picks up. Dad says “Good morning! How the H#!! are you?” Mindy makes a mental note to supplement her retirement fund by putting a cash bet on the table the next time Dad wonders if he can accomplish a task without cussing.

9:04 - Mom’s cell phone rings. Mom answers and shouts, “It’s Mikey!” Mom talks to Mikey as if he is the missionary. Mindy reminds Mom that Mikey is in Provo and Greggie is the missionary this time. Dad hands mom another phone and she tries to talk to both boys at once.

9:05 - Mom asks how Greg’s week was. Greg says, “We found 12 new people and taught six. That is a new record!” Mom is proud. Mom asks how Mikey’s week was. Mike says, “I moved out of Jenny’s basement and flirted with five girls yesterday.” Mom is equally proud. Mindy marvels at the differences in rubrics mom uses to measure the success of each son.

9:06 - Warren, Kenna, and Kylie arrive. Warren says, “It’s time to talk to Uncle Greggie!” The girls immediately start looking for uncle Greggie on the couch, under the table, etc. Warren explains that Greggie isn’t in the house, he is on the phone. Kenna grabs a phone from Mindy and tells Greg, “Hi.” Mindy points out to Dad how Kenna is able to greet someone on the phone without cussing. Dad takes Kenna out of his will, giving her portion of the inheritance to Jonah, who calls Grandma, "Damn-ma".

9:07 - Kylie takes the phone from Kenna. She waves hi to Uncle Greggie and then looks at the phone expectantly. Somewhere in Portugal, Greg waves back. Kylie, using her keen Vulcan mind-meld powers, senses Greg’s wave. Satisfied with her Greggie-interaction, Kylie tosses the phone on the ground and heads for the kitchen in search of food.

9:08 -Dad tells Greg about his High Council meeting that morning. More cuss words are involved. Dad then tells Greg that Mom is speaking in stake conference the next week on the topic, “raising righteous children.” Greg asks, “They do know that Spencer is your kid too, right?” Somewhere in New York, Spencer has a sudden inexplicable desire to give Greg a wedgie.

9:09 - Dad asks about how many people come to church in his area. Greg says he has 16 investigators at church. Mom says, “That’s huge!” Greg says, “When we got here there were no investigators and the members didn’t like the missionaries. We are finding people now, but it is a lot slower than my other areas.”

9:11 - Mom, Dad, Greg, and Mike talk about the weather. Mindy and Kenna get bored and watch YouTube videos of a dog popping balloons.

9: 12 - Mikey tells Mom to tell Greg goodbye and hangs up to go back into his Provo Sacrament meeting. Dad tells Greg that Mikey went on a first date with a great girl last week. “It was a lot better than the rest of the dates he has had lately because she waited a whole day before she left the state!” Somewhere in a Provo chapel, Mikey has a sudden inexplicable desire to give Dad a wedgie.

9: 13 - Greg says something kind about Mikey, but nobody really hears it because Kenna turns on the blow dryer and Kylie tries to redecorate Mindy’s sweater with a pencil.

9:14 - Mom takes over telling Greg about Mikey’s date and the pictures he posted on Facebook, saying “It looks like she is a good sport. There was hail on hike, but she was still in good spirits.” Warren chimes in, “Isn’t the fact that she was on a date with Mike proof that she is a good sport?” Kylie wipes her nose on her daddy’s tie in defense of Uncle Mikey, then asks for a cinnamon roll.

9:15 - Mom tells Greg that Nick Demo is engaged. Greg says, “Oh no!” Mom says, “His fiancé is from Hillcrest.” Greg says, “That is even worse! Whoa. Whoa!” Greg asks if they met at college. Mom says yes. Greg makes a mental note not to attend college and therefore never meet a girl.

9: 16 - Dad tells Greg that Warren is attending sacrament at the Nursing Home . Dad says, “He fits in, great! He slobbers and falls asleep half way through the meeting.” Warren says that Kenna and Kylie help him push people in wheelchairs to the meeting. Mindy says they are the newest members of the Junior Dr. Kevorkian Club.

9:17 - Dad updates Greg on people from the ward. Mindy gets bored and helps Kenna color Dora the Explorer.

9:19 - Greg says they meet a Bulgarian girl while knocking doors. She asked if they were robbers. They told her “no” and she let them in. They taught her about prayer.

9:20 - Greg continues to talk about teaching the Bulgarian girl and her family. Kylie climbs on Mindy’s lap and asks to type on her lap top. Mindy says yes and gies ti tghemnbvccxz 23p9yutklngp;aows’;o09weuigfb;ouiwoijagl’/kn. Kylie gets bored and goes back into the kitchen.

9:22 - Dad asks Greg about transfers. Greg says he doesn’t know if he and his companion will stay together. He talks about his old companion Elder Wison who is now an AP. It quickly becomes apparent that Greg has a man-crush on Elder Wilson. Mindy explains to Kenna what a “bromance” is.

9:24 - Greg says that the last missionaries in his area were slackers, so the bishop doesn’t trust these elders. He keeps telling them to work smarter. The Bishop told them, “Elders… we’re sad we haven’t had a baptism since you’ve been here.” Greg says that Elder Dalton, Greg’s still-green-behind-the-ears-companion, was going to punch the bishop in the face. Mom says, “That’s crazy!” Then heads to the den to find her passport so she can fly to Portugal to punch bishop in the face.

9:25 to 9:29 - Greg talks more about his area…”This area is called Zion because members just bring people to church, but they don’t want to get baptized, they just want to feel good…The first week in this area was bad, but it is getting better. But there is a lot of stress because this zone is the highest baptizing and they haven’t set anyone for baptism… One lady read the book of Mormon and knows its true but works on Sundays and can’t get to church…etc.”

9:30 - Greg says that not wearing black suits isn’t actually a rule. Dad makes plans to send him the nice black suit they had previously purchased. Mom says Mikey has the suit in Provo. Dad says Mikey now owes Greg a computer , a car, a phone, AND a suit. Warren says to end call quick before Mikey doesn’t have anything left.

9:32 - The parents update Greg on Jenny’s kids. They tell Greg that Jenny’s brother-in-law Hugh is getting married. Mom says that both Hugh and Nick met their girls in January. Greg makes plans to rent out a bomb shelter for his first most-mission January to avoid meeting girls.

9:35 - Warren tells his daughters to tell Greg goodbye because it is time to go push old people to Sacrament meeting. Kylie continues to look for Greggie in the bathroom and behind the entertainment center. Greg prays for the old people Kylie will be transporting.

9:37 - Warren sends his two and three-year-old daughters out to the car while he continues talks to Greg. He says Greg was missed this week because Warren had to take out some trees. “I’m not used to doing manual labor… I’ve had brothers around for too long.” Mom says he almost took out the neighbor’s Mustang with a tree. Greg laughs with a Portuguese accent.

9: 38 – Warren’s baby daughters are wandering around outside talking to men in trench coats and taking candy from strangers while their daddy continues to talk. Greg says one of his friends is serving in UFC fighting dude’s ward. Warren says that the UFC guy isn’t much of a fighter anymore as evidenced by the fact that he was on dancing with the stars. Greg says, “Oh no!” Warren says the UFC dude probably got baptized right before that. Dad says it was probably because he was on with the Osmonds. Greg considers using the rest of his phone time to call Donny and Marie to come and teach his 16 investigators to dance so they will get baptized.

9:40 - Kylie comes back inside and cries because she wants to take a toy home. Kenna cries outside because she doesn’t want Kylie to take a toy home. Greg cries in Portugal because he is pretty sure the toy Kylie wants to annex is one of his old toys.

9:41 – Dad asks how often Greg has to cook. Greg says, “We try to cook all the time, but it never works out well. I can make really bad rice and really bad pasta.” Mom asks if the members cook for them. Greg says yes. And an investigator family feeds them at least once a week, usually “Beer chicken”. Mom says, “ Yummmm. That is really tender.” Greg remembers that, if not for the word of wisdom, Mom would be a lush. Greg changes the subject.

9:43 - Greg says he is serving in the most dangerous area in the mission. Members say, “Don’t go there you will die.” Mom hops on Priceline to find a cheap ticket to rescue Greg… and try some of that chicken.

9:45 - Greg says they don’t knock doors on houses cause rich people are there. Greg does 90% of door approaches and teaching…he had never had to do that before. Mindy the Mission Prep Princess is proud of her little brother.

9:48 – Mom, being a mom, asks about laundry. Greg says he forgets to wash his G’s, so every couple of weeks he has to wear his thermals. He adds, “It is so hot I want to die.” Mindy lights up upon imagining Greg wearing his thermals in the hot weather. Mom tries to explain to Mindy what empathy and charity are.

9: 49 – Mom says, “It’s hard to believe that in a month you will have been out a year!” Greg says, “A year ago I was freaking out about the MTC and now I am running an area and training a comp.” Mom asks for the names and numbers of all the other missionary parents so she can call them and tell them her how much cooler her son is than theirs are.

9:50 – Dad says, “Time is running out, so you better get to the rest of the important topics. Mom asks about pancake mix she sent.

9:54 - Greg tells about tracting into a crazy lady. He says she calls screaming saying she needs help, and has pulled a knife on them. Greg explains, “She has lots of illnesses and mental issues.” Dad says, “She’s golden!” Greg describes what he thought the crazy lady was going to do with the knife. Mom laughs because the description of knife injuries makes Mindy woozie. Mindy teaches mom what empathy and charity are.

9:57 - Greg gushes about his mission president, calling him a “bear of a man.”

9:59 - Dad asks if Greg has any advice for mom on her raising righteous children talk. Greg says, “Don’t mention how Spencer got arrested on the school bus for mooning a cop.” Mom says, “But that was going to be my opening story!” Greg says mom was good at showing him how everything in life always come back to Heavenly Father ‘s love for us. He adds that she also taught him about the power of prayer. Dad asks what Greg learned from him. Greg says, “How to cuss… and that song about musical farts." Dad makes a mental note arrange to have that legacy written on his headstone.

10:00 – Greg’s companion can suddenly be heard announcing that the bear-like mission president just arrived at their apartment. Greg yells something about “love” and “emails” and “goodbye”. 10:01 – Mindy packs up for a quick trip to California. Mom and Dad get ready for church. Warren tries to explain to his daughters why old people in wheel chairs don’t like riding down stairs. Jenny attempts to keep her kids from using her mothers day flower as a projectile in the chapel. Spencer ponders his unexplainable desire to fly to Europe to give his brother a wedgie. And Greg gets back to work teaching the Gospel, firm in the knowledge that all is well with his family back home… and that, when he gets home, Mindy is going to have a field day teasing him about wearing thermals in the summer.

Anatomy of a Field Trip

It has been said that teaching junior high is like trying to herd cats. So imagine for a moment, if you will, taking those fuzzy little independently minded creatures out of the classroom and trying to herd them across vast outdoor expanses without getting any of them lost and/or squished. Sound like fun? Well, this year, it kind of was.

You can tell the end of the school year is near when the honors English kidets start asking about their "field trip" to Dairy Queen. They love leaving the school grounds to buy fast food and ice cream, and they adore hustling back to play guitar hero in my classroom for the rest of third hour. They dream about this little outing for weeks before hand.

So do I.

But MY dreams usually end with something like this....

Luckily, our little "haiku hike" went well, so the only post-field trip autopsy is the one you are about to read...

I awoke Thursday morning to find that the wretched, evil, icy, wind-of-death had brought us an extra fun surprise: obnoxious mini snow showers. The layer of ice on my steps, lawn, and car didn't bode well.Suddenly my fears of squished kidlets morphed into visions of frostbitten kidlets.

That morning, all 27 honors kidlets made pre-1st hour trek to my room wearing their most worried faces to ask if we were still going to DQ.

I assumed that the thought of walking a mile in below-freezing temperatures with 30 mph wind gusts would be motivation for sticking around and studying for finals, but no. When I told them we were going to brave the weather and risk hypothermia, they did happy dances and ran off to brag to their non-honors friends.

When our first-lunch-departure-time rolled around, they couldn't keep still long enough for my customary preliminary headcount or listing of the punishments that would await them in this world or the next if they did anything to dishonor the school or increase their odds of getting squished.

The only bit of instruction that seemed to sink in was my repeated order to "stay on the sidewalk!"

Of course, when I gave that order, I had forgotten one important piece of cow-town related information: Sidewalk placement is a bit skewampus round these parts.

It's as if the sidewalk fairy showed up in our town blind drunk after a public works fairy kegger in Pocatello and just randomly dropped bits and pieces of sidewalk as he tried to fly home without getting pulled over for a F.U.I.

The honors kids were not deterred, however, and whenever the sidewalk disappeared they just kept walking where they thought the sidewalk was supposed to be until it reappeared.

They continued on their imaginary sidewalk march even after I had told them it would be better to walk in the edge of the road than on people's lawns.

After eight months of giving them orders, such as...

"Bring paper and a writing utensil to class EVERY DAY,"

and "You may not wear 'I love boobies' bracelets in this class,"

and "Don't shove any more hot Cheetos up your nose!"

...who would have thought that the ONE that would stick would be "Walk on the sidewalk, not in the street" ?

After seventeen minutes of trying to get them off imaginary sidewalks and into the street, we finally arrived at the promised land.

The half-frozen kidlets shot into the building like heat-seeking missals.

They whispered their orders through chattering teeth and blue-tinged lips, and used their shivering digits to count out the money for the cashier.

And what did that money purchase, you ask?

Hot chocolate, perhaps. Or maybe some nice warm french fries?
Nope. The half-frozen kidlets spent their money on ice cream.

Lots of ice cream. And icies. That's right: drinks made of ICE. Did I mention that there were the honors kidlets? Cause they are.

After they ate their ice cream, some of the kids did go back up and order something warm to eat. I thought it was interesting that, after walking over a mile in nose-hair-freezing temperatures and gale-force winds to escape the school lunch of chicken nuggets and french fries, the majority of the kidlets ended up ordering chicken strips and french fries. But becuase they are honors kidlets, one or two did ask if that was an example of irony.

Then there there was the kid who had arranged to meet his pizza supplier in the parking lot of DQ. When I caught him making the money/pizza exchange outside the building, he offered to eat his lunch in the parking lot. I told him he could go ahead and take it inside, but warned him that if Guido the "No outside food" enforcer showed up, he was on his own. I would disavow all knowledge of him.

Lucky for him, there hasn't been anyone named Guido in this valley since the last Italian wagon train traversed the Oregon Trail. Of course, had someone named Guido or Bubba or Big Earl actually shown up to confront the pizza smuggler, I wouldn't have had the energy to disavow the kid. I barely had the energy to sit there and whimmper, "Stay off the lawns!" over and over.

As soon as the last drops of ice cream had been slurped, we headed back out into the wind and other assorted weather byproducts, and set course for the school.

They even managed to avoid walking on a few lawns on the way back... thanks to some yellow warning tape that had miraculously appeared after our walk to DQ. 40 minutes earlier.

Even though we faced directly into the wind on the walk home, we were still blessed to make it to DQ and back before the clouds rolled in and the snow started falling again. The poor 8th grade honors class wasn't so lucky. Rumor has it, they ended up snowed-in somewhere near the real estate office and had to resort to a little Donner-Party-Style-People-Flesh-Buffet to survive.

But that is just a rumor.

But all of my honors kidlets managed to make it back to the school safe and sound. Not a single cannibalistic bite mark or stray tire tread sidmarks on any of them.

Unfortunately, once they were back in the safe confines of the school, they managed to almost electrocute themselves rigging guitar hero to work with my LCD projector, successfully tripped three kids and one teacher with wii cords, and one lucky girl even managed to slip on a disguarded banana peel as she crossed the lunchroom on her way back to class.

Which left me wondering why I worry so much about taking the little darlings on field trips when there are apparently more than enough ways for them to off themselves within the walls of my cute little school.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get some rest. The vending machine people just refilled the hot and spicy Cheetos row, so that means I am going to be spending more than a little time pulling them out of noses this week.

Herding cats.

Cute, sweet, dorky cats.

With hot Cheetos stuck in their nostrils.

And speaking of dorks....stay tuned for another Missionary Phone Call Post. Hooray for Mother's Day!

The Plural of Nemesis is Nemeses

I had a very difficult time selecting my top nemesis this week.

There was, of course, the evil lap top that dedicated all of its RAM, battery cells, DDR, and pixels to thwarting my attempts to finish the 6th grade orientation video.

Then there was this thing that took up both lanes as it puttered along in front of me for blocks and blocks, making me later for a meeting I was already late for.

Putter, putter, putter, putter, putter, putter.

But it turns out that, when it comes down to the nemesis-selecting-wire, neither thwarting nor puttering could compare to the lovely spring weather we have been enjoying.


Of course, by "lovely" I mean "freezing", and "enjoying" is code for "whining through chattering teeth and frostbitten lips." But that is what spring in Idaho is all about, right? The traditional juxtaposition of cheery spring decor on the same stoop as a snow shovel.

Don't get me wrong. I am a life-long Idahoan, and as such am very used to the whole "Spring in Idaho" thing. I am fine with blasting the heater on the way to school in the morning...

...and then rocking the AC on the way home in the evening.

I don't have a problem with wearing a breathable ensemble to teach in, then throwing on a jacket when I get chilly.

Ooops. Wait. THIS is the jacket I throw on when I get chilly. THAT was the boa I throw on when I get dramatic.

No, my problem (besides my unhealthy affinity for feather boas) is that wretched wind that has been howling up and down my valley for days on end.

The wind that threatens to rip my car door off its hinges whenever I try to exit my vehicle.

The wind that transforms my hair from a reasonably presentable teacher-do to an eye-lashing mass of swirling furry to a tangled nest of very unpresentable knots of frizz.

The wind that, I am fairy certain, carried off a few of the scrawnier 7th graders during this mornings fire drill. But don't worry about the overly-aerodynamic kidletts. If the wind blew them all the way to Wyoming, they could actually attend a school that can afford luxuries like chalk and toilet paper. Lucky overly-aerodynamic kidletts...

But this blasted wind hasn't just carried off things like scrawny sevies and half-hearted hair-dos. It has also carried things into my valley. This like obscene amounts of sinus-torturing pollen, miles of soul-dampening clouds, and...

... lots and lots of hail, which is pretty much just snow with a bad attitude and a license to maim.

And after early morning exercise and a full day of teaching, I just don't have the energy to run to my car while trying to dodge sharp chunks of ice with added velocity from 40 mile and hour winds.

There is one nice thing about battling this particular nemesis, though. Unlike the evil computer, I am not alone in this fight. And together, as a community, I know we can survive this wind and end up better and stronger because of it.

And that will make us better prepared for next week's challenge: Learning to use punctuation.