Mission Flashback: Low Traction

The week after Christmas break ended, my cute little Cow Town was slammed by Winter Storm Gandalf and then settled into an inversion related sub-zero deep freeze. That combination of winter weather woes resulted in ice and snow covered roads in and around town.

Last week, our temperatures rebounded, ice and snow melted, and my streets were clear...for about 36 hours. Then more weather arrived and returned the roads to death-trap status. This was not good news for the very large part of my brain that is devoted to worrying about driving in bad weather. Not good at all.

Thankfully, I have been blessed with good friends who volunteered to drive to rural ward conferences (Thanks Sue!) and even more rural (rural-er?)  family home evenings (thanks Woodhouses!).

Even though I haven't done any slipping and sliding in my car this week (have I mentioned how much I love Sue and the Woodhouses?), I was still reminded of the slick Canadian roads and the not-so-helpful little "NO TRACTION" signal that would light-up on our dashboard whenever the roads got slick (Really, No Traction Light? The car currently has no traction? Thank goodness you alerted us to the lack of traction because we never would have figured it out just sliding though intersection after intersection!)

That little light became the inspiration for one of my favorite mission songs, co-written by the lovely and talented Sister Reese, who would sing harmony whenever we performed it. My recent road situation resulted in an additional post-mission verse and a hankering to sing with Sister Reese once again. I feel a road trip coming on...once the roads have melted and are no longer being used as nature's weapon of choice to attempt to do me in, that is.

Super Sister Songwriting team of Reese and Haws.

Low Traction

  (Written January 3, 2001)

To the tune of "O Ye Mountains High", LDS Hymn #34

 

Here in Can-a-da high

The snow falls from the sky

making roads all around us oh so slick!

 

Our car slides to the right

And we scream out in fright;

Thank Heaven anti-lock breaks do the trick!

Playing snow basketball in the Stratford Branch parking lot on P-day.

Low traction! No traction!

Hear our anti-lock breaks sing!

As across town we slide,

It's one heck of a ride!

We just pray we sur-vive until spring!

Stratford Sister's Apartment

 

In my post-mission life

I still face snowy-strife

Icy roads often make me fume and fuss

 

When I feel my car slide

Now there's one real bright side

No mission tag means I feel more free to cuss!

One of the many snow-covered streets in my cute, yet potentially deadly, Cow Town.

Low traction! No traction!

Hear my anti-lock breaks sing!

As across town I slide,

It's one heck of a ride!

I just pray I sur-vive until spring!

Useless? I Think Not.

 I have a tendency to procure items that may seem a bit, well, useless.

 

A wicked witch of the west throw that doesn't match anything in my home.

 

Sirius Black's wand from the Harry Potter movies.

 

And about one hundred Kinder Egg toys, just to name a few.

 

But even though those types of things may seem useless, I always seem to find a way to use them.

 

The wicked witch blanket? It lives at school and keeps me ward during fire drills.

 

Sirius's wand makes a wonderful pointer during Power Point presentations.

 

And the Kinder Egg toys make great game pieces for the board games I put together when I substitute in Primary classes.

 

 This Christmas, my little brother (with a little help from my big sister) gifted me with a Doctor Who cookie jar... a really cool TARDIS cookie jar with flashing lights and sound effects.

 

It is one of those awesome items that could have ended up on a shelf somewhere, only pulled out to play with when my Whovian nephews come to visit.

 

Instead, it ended up on my desk at school, filled with the fortune cookies that are the highlight of my creative writing fortune cookie lesson. Thus the cookie jar fulfilled  the measure of its creation by holding and dispensing cookies and, by becoming an object of fascination to the kidlets, won a permanent home on my desk.

 

Last week, it held the creative writing kidlet's fortune cookies.

 

This week it will hold the English kidlet's pre-final-test-mints.

 

And the week after that, my lovely TARDIS will house dum-dums for the sub to use to bribe the communication kidlets to behave while I am at district leadership team meeting.

 

So what lessons can we learn from this post?

 

Well, first of all we learn that TARDIS cookie jars are cool.

 

And, perhaps more importantly, I should really own a fez.

Thank Goodness for Talking Monkeys

I caught the evil Martian death cold... again... and when it finally left, it took my voice with it. On Tuesday I had a sub take my classes so I could see the doctor. He supplied me with some steroids, cough syrup, and a suggestion to avoid talking for as long as possible.

Steroids? Sure!

Cough syrup? Yes, please!

Limit my talking the week before the kidlets take their 1st semester end of course assessments? Heck No!

With only a few days to review EVERYTHING we have covered over the past semester, not talking was not an option. Which is where technology stepped in to save the day.


Try Out Monk-e-Mail by Clicking Here!

I typed, the monkey talked, and the kidlets learned slightly more than they would have from a worksheet handed out by the sub .

In fact, the monkey system worked so well I briefly considered using it to teach my part of today's Relief Society lesson. I could have just packed over my computer, put the monkey in a dress, and selected one of the female voice options and I would have been good to go.  My section of the lesson even included the idea that, if gospel learners are really prepared to learn, they can learn from anyone. Even a monkey! I thought it sounded like a great idea!

And then the effects of the very powerful cough syrup wore off, I repented, and drove to the church without my computer.

So I guess the moral to this story is cyber-monkeys can be very helpful in junior high settings, but should not be operated while under the influence of really good cough syrup.

And speaking of that really good cough syrup, it's bedtime! Good night!

An Excessivly Lengthy Post About a Perfectly Long Vacation

I could tell that Christmas break was coming to an end when I started having dreams about school.

I woke up in a panic early Wednesday morning after dreaming that I had left my classes with a sub and realized at the end of the day that I hadn't left any sub plans. That dream was a warning shot fired by my subconscious and, goodness gracious, did it get my attention. I spent seven hours that day working on yearbook portrait uploads and to-do lists for my staffers.

The next night, I dreamt that I got in a fender-bender with a school bus. I wonder what that could symbolize, eh? Sometimes I wish my subconscious would be just a tad more subtle.

Then, the night before I drove home to my cute little cowtown, I had another school-centered dream about the kidlets upcoming essay test. But it wasn't a panicky nightmare. In fact, it was actually a fairly pleasant, terror-free dream. That is when I knew I will be ok when Monday rolls around.

It turns out, two weeks is the perfect amount of time for a school vacation: Long enough for an actual BREAK, long enough to rest up, long enough to accomplish things, long enough to see people, and long enough to start missing the kidlets.

The major theme of my Christmas vacation was family.

I spent the whole two weeks with my cute, elderly parents.

I also got to spend time with the niblets both far...

...and near.

As you might have noticed from the photo above, my sweet mother helped finish my presents to the niblets.

The boys got t-shirts...

While the girls got t-shirt dresses. Didn't my mom do an amazing job?

And speaking of my mom, she and the grandbabies got plenty of use out of one of her gifts: an easy bake oven.

 

One day, my mother will figure out how to make treats in her easy bake oven for her grandpuppies. But, since they were still so far away this year, she had to settle for sending them less interactive gifts.

 

Brady seemed to enjoy his snow boots from Grandma...

 

But Mia was a little less sure about them.

Of course, Mia is impressively less sure about most things (Bless her heart).

 

One of Warren's favorite gifts was the fancy hat Brianna sent him. He hasn't taken it off... even when working at his credit union. He seems to think the Napoleon-style topper fits in well with his job as branch overlord, I mean manager.  I'm sure Brianna will be receiving notes from Wo's employees shortly, although I'm not sure how many of them will be of the "Thank You" variety.

The gifts I received were pretty awesome too (although doggie snow boots and an admiral's hat are pretty hard to top).

 

After being recognized as the owner of the deepest TV left in the developed world...

I was gifted with a new flat screen TV, whom I immediately named "Slim." All of the other named inanimate objects in my home gave him a very warm welcome, including my blender, Juan, who is usually fairly wary of newcomers.

 

There was a perfect amount of Doctor Who related items (although still no fez... insert wistful sigh here)

 

The most helpful gifts came from Valerie, who gifted me with two awesome instruments of self defense for district leadership meetings!

 

The vacation ended on a  somber note with the funeral of my Dad's aunt Carma... or at least it would have been a somber note if the family prayer my dad offered wouldn't have caused people to laugh out loud before the "amen." Of course, that is how Carma would have wanted it...

Carma Jean Haws

 

So now it is back to school and the kidlets. We have end of course assessments in a week, and then the direct writing assessment in February and the ISATS in March. There are yearbook deadlines on the horizon and ward conference lessons to prepare. And after two weeks of vacation, I am feel pretty darn ready for all of it.

 

Real life? Bring it on!

 

I can take whatever 2013 is ready to dish out.

 

As long as it contains a side-order of niblets.