Miscellaneous Missives

It comes as no shocker that I have an addictive personality. Unfortunately I do a lot of unhealthy things in excess. My latest addiction is a game called "Angry Birds". As with most of my addictions, this is not my fault. Without the help of others (dealers), I would never have found this game. In fact initially I had no desire to play this game. In fact the first time I looked at it, it seemed dumb. Heck, maybe it is a dumb game, but it's super addicting. Again, it's not my fault. Peer pressure led me to give the game a try. Others could have stopped this addiction, but they merely fed it. Tonight I played until the battery on my iTouch died. The person (dealer) who first shared the game (drug) with me suggested I plug in my iTouch and play. For some reason, I had enough strength to know this was crazy. When the iTouch was charged, however, I played some more. I would recommend that you download this application, but I am a better person that to sugges...

One of my writing assignment for my spiritual memoir class it to write about a turning point in my childhood faith. This is what I wrote: Writing about a spiritual turning point in my childhood is difficult for a couple of reasons. First, my recollections of my childhood are sketchy. Second, I always was part of a church community, so it's difficult to think of a turning point. A couple of instances come to mind. Yesterday I posted about one. Today I am posting the other one that come to mind. This helped me realize I was more than a number/member in church. I was an individual whom was cared for and important. When I graduated from high school, the reverend came to my graduation with a gift. He held out two hands and asked me to hold out mine. Excitement filled me until I felt the gifts in my hands. One of my hands held a small smooth stone, and the other hand held a walnut. I looked up puzzled. "Thanks," I probably muttered. "What are these?" Of...

One of my writing assignment for my spiritual memoir class it to write about a turning point in my childhood faith. This is what I wrote: Writing about a spiritual turning point in my childhood is difficult for a couple of reasons. First, my recollections of my childhood are sketchy. Second, I always was part of a church community, so it's difficult to think of a turning point. A couple of instances come to mind. Since I really have nothing interesting to post about, I'll post one turning point (kind of turning point) today and the other tomorrow. When I was finished with confirmation class, getting ready for "confirmation Sunday", controversy hit our small group. Half of the group was shopping for their Sunday best while a couple members couldn't afford new clothes. Sunday best was not a possibility. Someone made the decision we would wear choir robes instead. Of course I had been busy walking in my new heels and was disappointed until I realized that pe...

This afternoon the language arts PLC (professional learning community) met after school for our bi-monthly (twice a month) meeting. We typically start with a game or something entertaining. Today we started by discussing times when people used phrases incorrectly such as: a moo point, an old wise tale, and a mind bottling experience. It was entertaining, and a great opener for our meeting. We then took time to discuss the upcoming mandatory language arts meeting about standards. Since the state has adopted new standards, our recently adopted district standards need to be revised. I was asked to explain and started by saying the district people would visit all five secondary schools; then the steering committee would put the results together. As I was trying to explain that we would be differentiating between essential, important, and enhancing standards, I had major difficulties. Instead of saying essential, I said something like essentual (similar to sensual and sexual). Of cou...

Today was the second of my three spiritual memoir classes. Class started with a discussion about how personal writing is easier than public writing. I knew the answer to a fellow classmate's question although I can't remember the exact question. It's all about revision. The instructor showed a diagram she had made with the stages of writing. This diagram had a protective bubble around personal writing before the revising and publishing stage. Later we were asked to think of a question we were chewing on. I started to write, "As I sit and listen, I wonder about my blog. Have I popped the bubble around my own thoughts by making it public? Does my writing suffer because I make no attempt to revise before I publish?" As I was writing about this, she gave us the true assignment. What memory do you have that centers around when you first faced this question? What memory might help you answer this question? My memory was of a first writing class in college. Al...

Morning by Mary Oliver Salt shining behind its glass cylinder. Milk in a blue bowl. The yellow linoleum. The cat stretching her black body from the pillow. The way she makes her curvaceous response to the small, kind gesture. Then laps the bowl clean. Then wants to go out into the world where she leaps lightly and for no apparent reason across the lawn, then sits, perfectly still, in the grass. I watch her a little while, thinking: what more could I do with wild words? I stand in the cold kitchen, bowing down to her. I stand in the cold kitchen, everything wonderful around me. from New and Selected Poems, 1992 Beacon Press, Boston Until this moment I did not know that Mary Oliver had a "cat" poem. Since I wanted to share the adorable pictures I took of Kitty Klaus and realized it didn't fit the post I was thinking of writing, I searched Mary Oliver + cats and came up with "Morning". The other post will be written, but this poems is actually fitting of the pho...

This morning as I walked into Caribou the line was crazy. Soon I realized that the computers were down. They were taking order by hand and filling them without charging. Everyone was getting their beverage, oatmeal, or breakfast sandwich without charge. I immediately put a couple of dollars in the tip mug. Although it didn't cover the drink, it was the least I could do. While I was waiting, I also took the opportunity to help move a display that was in the way as they tried to talk on the phone and get to the back of the register/computer. No one else helped. In fact most people had a difficult time getting out of the way. As I stepped out of the way to wait and watch, I soon realized no one else was tipping. Are you kidding me? The workers were super busy and giving out free drinks. The patrons received a free drink (etc.) and couldn't leave a dollar in the tip mug.