I got the notification today that I have passed my last Teacher Performance Assessment. On Thursday I will be finished with my formal education. On Friday I spend my last day with my students at Somerset Middle School as their student teacher in physical education and promptly jump on Amtrak to head up to Ukiah. The plan was to spend a week searching for a place to live when I move up there permanently in January but craigslist and some footwork on Laura's part means that I may spend that week moving a few boxes and setting up a house instead.
Warning: corny analogy ahead
I feel like this transition time has been a lot like my strategy for putting together puzzles. I don't look at the box so I don't really know what everything is supposed to look like but I always start by finding all of the edge pieces. Once I've sorted them all I out I begin to assemble the border and figure out how much space on the table I am going to need. After I've put together the border I start sorting the remaining pieces by coloring so that I can start putting together little chunks of the picture. If one of these chunks happens to fit onto the border I'll put it in the puzzle. As the chunks get bigger and I can start to see how they might fit with each other the middle of the picture begins to fill itself in. Finally, all that you are left with are the pieces that look exactly the same and you just start trying them to see if they'll fit in the empty holes.
My first trip to Ukiah was a whirlwind visit that did little more than give me a glimpse of the town itself but in each weekend trip that I've made since then I have been able to figure out a little chunk of what life will look like. Finding a church, frequenting the farmers market, walking most everywhere, exploring the lake, hiking through the hills, going to parks, finding local activities, and speaking with future employers have all given me brief glimpses into some of the things that I know I will love about living there. Spending a week in Ukiah will give me a chance to start figuring out where each of these chunks of the puzzle belong.
I will be largely nomadic for the month of December but am truly looking forward to starting fresh in 2013, putting the last few pieces in place to complete the new picture.
December 9, 2012
December 2, 2012
Homemade Candy
I've made a few candies this fall. A couple of people have asked for recipes so here they are:
Junior Mints and Peppermint Patties based loosely on this recipe.
Reeses Peanut Butter Cups based loosely on this recipe.
And tonight, a giant KitKat bar based on some chocolate and wafers.
I have also learned that the camera on my ipod just isn't that great compared to my real camera.
Junior Mints and Peppermint Patties based loosely on this recipe.
Reeses Peanut Butter Cups based loosely on this recipe.
And tonight, a giant KitKat bar based on some chocolate and wafers.
I have also learned that the camera on my ipod just isn't that great compared to my real camera.
November 30, 2012
There is nothing more satisfying to me
than raking leaves and clearing storm drains. I don't know why but it has always been one of my favorite past times. There is nothing like the feeling that I get from standing on the street, drenched in rain, rake in hand, clearing the leaves from the tops of the drains, and hearing the satisfying sound of water cascading off the street and into the storm drain. It's just a nice feeling to know that I made a flooded street passable again.
September 18, 2012
Digging In Dirt
I must admit that I've been a little lost the last few weeks. I teach students and then go to school. Wake up early, go to bed not nearly early enough. Three days a week I start before eight and finish over twelve hours later. A continual pattern of physical and emotional exhaustion. There are so few things that I am connected to.
It has finally cooled off enough to finish replacing our sprinkler system. There is something inherently fulfilling about digging around in the dirt, fixing things, doing manual labor, and being able to say it's done. I probably should have chosen a career involving dirt. It grounds me and makes the world just a little bit clearer.
It has finally cooled off enough to finish replacing our sprinkler system. There is something inherently fulfilling about digging around in the dirt, fixing things, doing manual labor, and being able to say it's done. I probably should have chosen a career involving dirt. It grounds me and makes the world just a little bit clearer.
July 18, 2012
June 20, 2012
New Changes
I have one more semester of student teaching at Somerset this fall. Fifteen periods of Middle School Physical Education, eight hours of credential classes at CSU Stanislaus, coaching gymnastics, and whatever else needs to get done each week. After graduation in December I will be moving to Ukiah where Laura took a teaching job for this fall.
This is the first time that I'll really be moving. I moved from my parents house to an apartment to here (less than five miles away). But that doesn't really count. Things moved gradually. I got most things the first time around but three years later mom is still finding things that belong to me... and amusingly I'm still returning things that belong to her. I still get groceries from the same store, go to the same church, hang out with the same people. It's different to move away. The realization of starting a life in a new place hasn't really begun to affect me yet, however, the realization that I have to decide what to take, what to leave, what to throw away, and what to give away definitely has.
I've been packing and organizing and packing and organizing. I've realized how many collections I have. I just boxed up over 400 pounds of National Geographic Magazine. I have a coin collection, pez dispensers, trading card games (magic, pokemon, star wars, etc.), stamp collection, book collection, and I'm sure there is more. I have always had this desire to simplify and get rid of things and yet I still have mounds of material possessions. I'm trying to get rid of some of it. I'm selling my windsurfing board, struggling with what to do with my record player, getting rid of duplicate National Geographics, reducing my coin collection (it's compact but extremely heavy), considering passing my stamp collection on to someone else, and trying to decide which two trading card games I want to keep.
In addition to all of my collections, I have several boxes filled with sentimental stuff that I just can't seem to part with. I get rid of one or two things each time I do a thorough cleaning but the supply doesn't seem to get any smaller. The last two weeks I did the garage sale thing with Laralyn and sold a few things including my gymnastics warm-ups and a leotard which I was never going to wear again, my one lone my little pony, and a beading loom. In one sense it hurts to let them go but it's nice to know that they are being enjoyed instead of packed in boxes.
A friend of mine recommended getting a storage unit and putting everything in there when we move. He reasoned that if you take things out as you need them, then after a year you would know what you really need and what you should get rid of. The problem is I know that I don't need it. Most of the stuff I haven't touched since high school except to take out, look at, tell myself I should get rid of it, and place it nicely back in the box. But I still feel like I'll need a train to take all of these boxes if I can't start to let go.
This is the first time that I'll really be moving. I moved from my parents house to an apartment to here (less than five miles away). But that doesn't really count. Things moved gradually. I got most things the first time around but three years later mom is still finding things that belong to me... and amusingly I'm still returning things that belong to her. I still get groceries from the same store, go to the same church, hang out with the same people. It's different to move away. The realization of starting a life in a new place hasn't really begun to affect me yet, however, the realization that I have to decide what to take, what to leave, what to throw away, and what to give away definitely has.
I've been packing and organizing and packing and organizing. I've realized how many collections I have. I just boxed up over 400 pounds of National Geographic Magazine. I have a coin collection, pez dispensers, trading card games (magic, pokemon, star wars, etc.), stamp collection, book collection, and I'm sure there is more. I have always had this desire to simplify and get rid of things and yet I still have mounds of material possessions. I'm trying to get rid of some of it. I'm selling my windsurfing board, struggling with what to do with my record player, getting rid of duplicate National Geographics, reducing my coin collection (it's compact but extremely heavy), considering passing my stamp collection on to someone else, and trying to decide which two trading card games I want to keep.
In addition to all of my collections, I have several boxes filled with sentimental stuff that I just can't seem to part with. I get rid of one or two things each time I do a thorough cleaning but the supply doesn't seem to get any smaller. The last two weeks I did the garage sale thing with Laralyn and sold a few things including my gymnastics warm-ups and a leotard which I was never going to wear again, my one lone my little pony, and a beading loom. In one sense it hurts to let them go but it's nice to know that they are being enjoyed instead of packed in boxes.
A friend of mine recommended getting a storage unit and putting everything in there when we move. He reasoned that if you take things out as you need them, then after a year you would know what you really need and what you should get rid of. The problem is I know that I don't need it. Most of the stuff I haven't touched since high school except to take out, look at, tell myself I should get rid of it, and place it nicely back in the box. But I still feel like I'll need a train to take all of these boxes if I can't start to let go.
May 18, 2012
Summer
I was getting ready to write another post about the beginning of summer. Then I read my post from last summer (three posts ago) and it basically said everything I was going to say.
Additionally, I want to play some sports this summer. If I'm going to be a P.E. teacher I feel like I need to be a bit more well rounded. So, I want to try to practice some basketball, soccer, football, frisbee, golf, and whatever else I can get a few people to play with me.
- Just a few more days of school left and I have grand plans for the summer.
- Started the garden.
- Cleaned out the rose beds and put the mulch in today.
- Working on rearranging the bedroom a bit.
Additionally, I want to play some sports this summer. If I'm going to be a P.E. teacher I feel like I need to be a bit more well rounded. So, I want to try to practice some basketball, soccer, football, frisbee, golf, and whatever else I can get a few people to play with me.
January 30, 2012
In Loving Memory
Psalm 100
Sing to the Lord all creatures!
Worship Him with your joy; Praise Him with the sound of your laughter.
Know that we all belong to Him, that He is our source and our home.
Enter His light with thanksgiving; fill your hearts with His praise.
For His goodness is beyond comprehension, and His deep love endures forever.
Yesterday and today mark the passing of Doris and Marian Storer into the arms of their beloved Savior, one and seven years ago respectively. They both loved Psalm 100.
I wrote this two years after Marian died.
Your voice will forever remain protected in my mind
Your beautiful smile, and the simple warming 'yes' that was spoken so often
Kind, deep, loving gaze
Forever you, the strong woman of God
In life's frailty still loyal to your sisters and to your Savior
Fall free away
Bring heaven to your feet
walk every day
Through pure and golden streets
But I'll still miss you forever and today
Sometimes I think that I grieve differently and longer than other people. But really, how do we mark the years as they go by? Close family is supposed to grieve and struggle and find ways to move on with their life. but there is little different about my life in the absence of a childhood model of kindness. I don't have routines to be altered, places in my home to trigger happy and sad memories. There is very little different except this deep sadness that doesn't seem to ease as the years go on.
I think my parents tried to protect me from death. Whenever someone close was dying they were deemed too sick to visit. I was told that I should remember them how they were when they were healthy, not sick and dwindling, that I didn't really need to visit them and that I would understand when I was older. But I think I did need to see them. My dad was right though, When I think of Doris I think of her lying in bed, like a small child, barely making an impression where the blankets were draped over her. I think of all of her kind words and smiling face. I think of the time that I visited and she came outside to greet me even though she needed help down the steps and didn't recognize me at all. I see the true end of her physical life, drawing breathes so shallow they could barely be heard, and that is what I want to remember. I know that she died in beautiful ignorance in the house that she was born, raised, and lived in. That is worthy of remembering.
Sing to the Lord all creatures!
Worship Him with your joy; Praise Him with the sound of your laughter.
Know that we all belong to Him, that He is our source and our home.
Enter His light with thanksgiving; fill your hearts with His praise.
For His goodness is beyond comprehension, and His deep love endures forever.
Yesterday and today mark the passing of Doris and Marian Storer into the arms of their beloved Savior, one and seven years ago respectively. They both loved Psalm 100.
I wrote this two years after Marian died.
Your voice will forever remain protected in my mind
Your beautiful smile, and the simple warming 'yes' that was spoken so often
Kind, deep, loving gaze
Forever you, the strong woman of God
In life's frailty still loyal to your sisters and to your Savior
Fall free away
Bring heaven to your feet
walk every day
Through pure and golden streets
But I'll still miss you forever and today
Sometimes I think that I grieve differently and longer than other people. But really, how do we mark the years as they go by? Close family is supposed to grieve and struggle and find ways to move on with their life. but there is little different about my life in the absence of a childhood model of kindness. I don't have routines to be altered, places in my home to trigger happy and sad memories. There is very little different except this deep sadness that doesn't seem to ease as the years go on.
I think my parents tried to protect me from death. Whenever someone close was dying they were deemed too sick to visit. I was told that I should remember them how they were when they were healthy, not sick and dwindling, that I didn't really need to visit them and that I would understand when I was older. But I think I did need to see them. My dad was right though, When I think of Doris I think of her lying in bed, like a small child, barely making an impression where the blankets were draped over her. I think of all of her kind words and smiling face. I think of the time that I visited and she came outside to greet me even though she needed help down the steps and didn't recognize me at all. I see the true end of her physical life, drawing breathes so shallow they could barely be heard, and that is what I want to remember. I know that she died in beautiful ignorance in the house that she was born, raised, and lived in. That is worthy of remembering.
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