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God Sends Stories.....

1/26/2014

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My dear friend Paula insists that “God sends  you stories to live because He knows that you will tell them.”       Because I love living stories and In case she is correct, here are a few tellings…..

 

Science Fair.   What to do?  What to do?  WHAT TO DO?   I outlawed volcanoes and pairs [Each student must do his or her OWN science fair project and no student shall do a volcano.   Hislop Handbook, page 3, Statute IVa], consequently I had a significant number of students stymied.   What to do for science fair?  What to do?  What to do?

 

Do something you are interested in, I told them.   BLANK LOOKS.  After making them list three of their interests, we choose a focus, I make suggestions, we outline an experiment and they get excited.   It is so, so fun to watch them morph from reluctant (sometimes very resistant) science fair participants to excited (often very eager) young scientists.

 

Darling D, a simple, sincere student, came in after school for help.    He listed video games, computer games, and reading as his interests.   (Guess which one I focused on…..).     “What if you investigated the effects of reading on your heart rate?” I asked.     Blank look.   “Have you ever felt your pulse?” I queried.  No.   I put his fingers first on my wrist, letting him fell my heart beat, and then instructed him to find his own.   When his fingers found the thump, thump, thump of his own heart, his eyes flew open and he audibly gasped.   The experience was breath taking for him…..and for me.   It was an almost sacred experience to share his moment of enlightenment.      He has already collected two weeks’ worth of data and we are still 4 weeks from the actual science fair.

 

Borderline B is a passive student; she does enough to get by—barely—but never engages.   Her list of interests included texting.   “What if you found out who texts better, boys or girls?” I asked.   REALLY?!?!  “Yes.”   None of my students have ever investigated texting, a fact I shared with her, so I am quite excited to see how her experiment turns out, a fact I also shared with her.  She is excited too.   We spent a class day doing research on our science fair topics and she was fully engaged the entire class, hunting information about texting.   The next morning that I was in the building she found me before school and asked “Is it okay if I include information about the thumb in my research?    The thumb is important in texting, right?”    RIGHT!!!   You go girl!!!!

 

Active A is investigating the effects of being in a hot tub on blood pressure.   He needs a large sample size and multiple trials.     “Mom, I have to have a hot tub party with my friends for the next five nights….It’s part of my science fair experiment.”     Party on!

 

Crafty C wants to know how playing video games affects his reading fluency.  “Will you write a note to my mom telling her that I have to play video games for at least 30 minutes every day so that I can do my science fair experiment?” he petitioned me.   I wrote the note.

 

Two of my hockey players are pursuing their passion.   Gracious G (she seems too nice to be a hockey player) wants to know if her team takes more shots at home games or away games.   Tentative T (rarely comes to school and every more rarely says anything) will compare microbial growth taken from swabs inside his hockey gloves, arm pads, and skates.    Pretty P is also investigating microbes; she will plate swabs taken from her mascara rod and lip gloss applicator.   Savy S is closely monitoring boxing to determine whether winners of matches more often use head shots or body shots.    I’ve several young men investigating the performance difference between flat balls (soccer, football, basketball) and fully inflated balls and several young women testing the staying power of various types of hair coloring chemicals.      

 

Science Fair.   WHEW!   Lots of work, lots of rewards.   More work (LOTS MORE WORK) to come and, hopefully, more rewards as well.

 

I love my job.   Really.   I do.   

 

One of my students does not do anything in class.   Nothing.   No amount of cajoling, encouraging, bribing, threatening, ignoring, spotlighting, rewarding or punishing seems to have any effect on him so far.  He sits in his desk, occasionally pesting other students, answering questions, or arguing with me but never doing classwork; not labs, not notes, not experiments, nothing.   He reads at a second grade level and struggles to write but consistently scores 85% on the tests.     He is smart…..and stubborn.

 

Last week Mr. Field (teaching assistant) and I both tried to engage him, encouraging him to participate in the day’s lab activity.    In response to my third attempt, the student told me, “Mr. Field was a jerk to me so I am done,” and he put his head down.   NOT.   With pointed words and a firm tone, I told him that it was not Mr. Field’s job to beg him to work, that learning was his task and it was time he took responsibility for it.    He ignored me and I thought my words had no effect…. until he found me at lunch time and gave me a note.   “I am sorry you are such a jerk to me,” it read.    At least I know he heard me.

 

I was leaning over the table, helping a student when I felt the student next to me touch my head.   Assuming she was removing some stray piece of matter that was locked in my locks, I asked her what she pulled out.  “Nothing,” she said, “I just wanted to feel your hair.”  Okay.   Slightly disconcerting but okay.  Science is all about investigation, right?

 

One day in class we investigated the bubble blowing capabilities of various brands of bubble gum.  “Gum is strictly against the rules at OPA , so you cannot tell anyone that I gave you gum and you MUST promise to spit it out when you leave the classroom,” I solemnly told my students.  Knowing that I was on safe ground but wanting to stress to them the importance of not abusing the gum chewing moment, I continued, “I could lose my job so you must obey.”    Mr. Mitchell, the junior high principal, called me out in the hall near the end of class.   My students went to their next class slightly traumatized.   “We are worried about Mrs. Hislop,” they told Ms. Larsen.  “We were chewing gum in class and Mr. Mitchell is talking to her.    We were doing an experiment.  Honest.   It really was just an experiment.   Do you think she will get fired?”    Cute.

 

I love Primary.    Last Sunday Sister Hyde asked the children to tell about someone who has been a good example to them.   Dynamic D (male, 4 years old) went on and on and on about his mom.   “She is a good example because she reads to me and fixes me food and……….and………and………….and……….and because she lets me go poop on the potty and because she wipes my bum and…”
 


At this point Adult-like A (female, age 3) interrupted him.  “No,” she corrected, “I have a bum.  You have a penis.”



End of lesson.

 

I hate shopping.  Seriously.   

 

Problem:  There was no dog food in the house.   Fact: I hate shopping.   Solution:  Make dog food.   Cook a gallon of oatmeal mush, add 2 cans of sardines, the water from four cans of tuna, and pound of moldy pepper jack cheese and heat thoroughly.     Zorro loved it and I avoided shopping for four more days.

 

I love my family.  I REALLY, REALLY love my family.   LOTS.

 

“Mom,” Miles said, “Can Cooper and I play at our house?”   I turned down his request, citing the fact that no one else would be home at the time they wanted to play.  “C’mon Mom,” he said in exasperation, “We are both in double digits now.   We can watch ourselves!”     He had a point—ten is a double digit number—but he did not get his party.   Ten year old boys still need some supervision.

 

Grace has started the last three basketball games.   She is becoming quite adept at setting screens.   This week her screen set an opponent on her butt; the girl ran into Grace, bounced off, and landed on both cheeks.    Grace said that she felt bad about the girl’s fall but the grin on her face told a different story.

 

Tanah asked a boy   friend (notice the space between the two words) to a girl’s choice dance.   It is her first date, her first dance, and Lance’s first (though far from last) chance to agonize over the fact that his girl is out with another man.

 

The family was relating stories about finding oneself some place and not being able to remember why one is there.    Such stories are not uncommon.   Chick added a new twist.  “Yah,” he said, “I never make it to the laundry room on the first attempt.”      This is SO Chick.   We have lived in this house for 17 years yet none of us doubted the veracity of his statement.

 

 

“It’s Senior Night at the wresting meet this evening,” Chick reminded me over the phone.  “They are honoring the seniors at the beginning so please be there on time.”     But that was not the whole story.   I did get there on time and there I learned that seniors were not the only ones being honored that night; they were also honoring the parents of seniors.     Lance and I were called to the mat as well where I got two roses and Lance was given a handshake.    I got the better end of the honor; give me roses over a handshake most any day!

 

We are going to Cancun!   Tickets are booked and reservations made.   We will stay at an all-inclusive resort where the kids will have all the benefits of the cruise they wanted to take plus we will be able to explore ancient ruins, walk in the waves, and run in the rainforest ….maybe even swim with dolphins.     Bless Lance for making all of the arrangements and BLESS Parents Hislop for paying for it.

 

Love,
Teresa



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Senior Night honors graduating seniors and their almost-senior citizen parents.
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The Hislop "I-am-participating-in-an-athletic-event" tongue makes its appearance.
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Grace sets up for her infamous screen.
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Coach tells Grace to set up one of her infamous screens.
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Who Will Bring the Lamb?

1/19/2014

2 Comments

 
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“Who will bring a lamb to my classroom?” Miles asked, tears filling his eyes.   “I have been looking forward all fourth grade to when the lambs are born and you bring one to my classroom so that I can show it to my class.    If you work every day, who will bring a lamb to school with me?”

His question was poignant, powerful, and pivotal; poignant because his little soul was truly distressed, powerful because he was not really asking who would bring the lamb to school—Grandad could easily step in and would delight to do so—he was really asking “Who will be my mom?”, and pivotal because I recognized the question he was really asking and it haunted me.

The van’s registration expires at the end of January.   In Utah, one’s vehicle must pass an annual safety and emissions test; vehicles with lit check engine lights do not pass the test.    The van’s check engine lights have been on for a year and a half, except for a brief 3 day period last January when they miraculously went off just long enough for the van to pass inspection.    This January did not bring a repeat of last January’s miracle so we took it to our mechanic hoping for the best and fearing the worst.  

Justin, our mechanic friend at JP Midland Car Care, called with bad news.   “The knock sensor is out and it will take $700 to replace it.   Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing if the catalytic converter sensor is bad until we replace the knock sensor.    If the catalytic converter sensor is bad, it will cost another several thousand to replace it.  You could easily spend more in repairs than the van is worth.”   Knowing my level of automotive understanding, he repeated himself several times, warning me again and again that I could end up with a repair bill that exceeded the worth of the vehicle.

Egad.   We do not have money right now to replace (or extensively repair) a van.    The van is 12 years old, has nearly 200,000 miles, and has flakes of engine in its oil pan at every oil change, indicating engine damage and warning that the engine could go bad at any time.    Should we pay to repair it or should we quit throwing money into a “sinking ship” and let it go?    What to do?

Lance and I fasted and prayed about it and, against all odds, both felt right about proceeding with the knock sensor replacement.    A sense of peace told us that God would take care of us.

Last week I was offered immediate full time employment; I would teach all day every day, doing all of my preparation and correction work at home.    My salary would double.   DOUBLE.    Oh my lands!   Double my money would put to rest the concerns about paying for Chick’s mission that have been plaguing me.   Chick will probably leave in July for parts as yet unknown on a two year mission for the Lord.    Missions are expensive and Chick has not made or saved any money.    It will fall on us to fund his service and we are not currently making enough money to meet our financial obligations and pay for his mission.  The money simply is not there right now.    But it would be…………if my salary doubled……….

Was the job offer an answer to my prayers?    A part of me yearned to take it.   Not only would it put to rest my financial concerns, it presented a professional challenge.    I seriously love challenges.    I longed to put my fingers in that troubled classroom and set things right; I would have been heralded as a heroine and I would have loved it.   LOVED IT!  

I took the job offer home and presented it to my family.    At our family counsel, everyone expressed support.  Lance did not like it but recognized the professional opportunity and agreed to support whatever decision I made; Tanah promised she would “step up” at home and urged me to take it; Chick, recognizing his bias because he would be the main beneficiary, was reluctant to express an opinion but, when pushed, said that he thought I should accept the offer; Grace, after acknowledging that she is not home much (she leaves early and arrives home late because she goes to school with Lance), agreed with consensus and said that I should take the job.  Miles stood as the lone voice against the change.   “Who will bring the lamb?”

Who will bring the lamb?    (Who will be my mom?)

We prayed as a family.    Lance and I prayed as a couple.   I prayed as a mother.

Four years ago, when I was initially offered a job at Ogden Preparatory Academy, I took the question to the Lord, expecting Him to tell me that it was okay to turn it down, that I could stay at home and mother my children.     Instead He told me to ask for more money.    I was surprised but obedient.   I asked for (and received) more money and subsequently accepted the job.

Last week I again took a question about a job to the Lord, this time expecting Him to tell me to it was okay to take it, that I could work to fund Chick’s mission and it would be alright.   Instead He told me to stay home and it would be alright.    I was surprised but (mostly) obedient.    I emailed the people who had offered me the job, expressed my desires to take it and outlined my concerns.   I told them that I did not think I was the best fit for their needs and suggested another woman.    I ended it with the invitation to contact me again if it did not work out with the woman I had suggested.

The next day God blessed me with a realization of what a wonderful life I have.    It was a not-working-at-OPA day for me and I felt a heightened sense of joy, reveling in every moment of my at-home day.   Book Club met and I treasured the interactions I have with the ladies, young mothers to elderly matrons, that meet monthly in my living room.   I love sharing books and chats with my mother and my friends.   I could not imagine having to tell Elaine (80+ years) or Shannon (mother of six very young children) that our monthly gathering would be no more.  

It was an early-out day (school dismissed at 1:05 p.m.) for Miles so he and I went shopping for shoes to replace the paper-thin soled ones he was wearing.   Watching him prance about in his new footwear was a pleasure I was grateful not to have missed.    We ended our adventure together with a trip to Wal-Mart where I found 12 boxes of religious Christmas cards 75% off**.   We bought cards together, a task he endured rather than embraced, he helped me find the worms (dinner for the tiger salamander that sits in a tank in my classroom) that my frustrated searching could not locate, and we sniffed scented waxes together, sharing scents and simple pleasures.     The day was not spectacular in any way though it felt spectacular in every way.     I knew in the basement of my being that God has given me a wonderful life and He will continue to take care of me.  I have a peace—“peace of God which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7)—that it will all work out, that finances for Chick’s mission will not be an issue.  I have no idea how we will pay for Chick’s mission but I do know how we will not pay for it.  We will not pay for it by me working full time immediately.     

[**NOTE:The “Seasons Greetings” garbage angers me.  It is CHRISTmas, for heaven’s (and for our) sake so I always seek Christmas cards that say Christ’s name.    It was GREAT to find them at a discount price but a somewhat sad commentary on our society that the only cards left on clearance were religious ones…  I bought a year’s supply—if I send out 200 cards again next year which I said that I would not do—and they will sit quietly in my attic until next Christmas season.]

That night, after reading a story together and wrestling until I pinned him and stole a kiss, Miles said, “Are you going to work every day Mom?”.   When I told him “probably not” he pounced on me, gave me a huge hug, and said, “Thank you Mommy.  Thank you!”

The story continues…..

Early the next morning I was asked again to work full time immediately.   It had not worked out with the lady I suggested and I was needed.    I was flattered, very flattered, and tempted, very tempted—I really do love grabbing a challenge and meeting it.  (I also love being the heroine.)   But “who would bring the lamb?”    Who would bring the lamb?

I shared Miles’ lamb story and told of his THANK YOU hug.   “I’ve always said that I am a mother first and educator second and I must align my actions with my values,” I told them, probably killing any hope of future advancement.    Then I added, “I know it will all work out.   There is always a way.  All my life I have been able to find a solution to problems.  We just have to keep searching.  There is a way to solve this problem.  We just have to find it.”

And then we found it.    We found the solution.   And it was not that I would work full time.   “Thank you,” said the administrator.   “We thank you…..and your son thanks you.”

And I thank God.   THANK GOD!   Thank you, my Great and Glorious God!   I thank Thee for my wonderful life; I thank Thee for peace; I thank thee for letting me “bring the lamb”, I thank Thee for sending The Lamb, I thank Thee, I thank Thee, I thank Thee!

That afternoon, as if to send me a divine “I told you so”, Justin, the mechanic called.   After calling the Toyota manufacturing plant for specific instructions about the drive cycle, after driving our van (without charging us) 40 minutes to get it mostly through a drive cycle, after cold starting it and driving another 10 minutes (again no charge) to complete the drive cycle, he got the van to pass inspection.    “You are legal for another year,” he said, “though I cannot guarantee anything about the catalytic converter sensor.  Quite likely, it will come on again soon.”   Seven miles later, the engine lights lit up…..but not until after the registration sticker was safely attached to our license plate.    God had indeed taken care of our van, as He told us He would.    He will take care of our finances too.

Thank you God!!

Teresa


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I have a wonderful life!
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...but I do not have a wonderful caption for this photo.
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Nor for this photo.
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Empty chicken coops in the winter are wonderful things....unless you want eggs.
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Brown blackberry leaves
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Can you see the snow swan?
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This is our wonderful winter land.
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Ice is a thing of wonder........I wonder when it will be gone....I wonder when it will come again.....
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Ever wonder what is behind a fence?
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Soggy Bread

1/12/2014

1 Comment

 
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“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.  (Ecclesiastes 11:1)

 

Friday I was driving to my parents’ home when I noticed a younger lady (many ladies are younger than me these days!) carrying four bulging bags of groceries as she made her way over and between the clumps of snow and ice on the not-recently shoveled sideway leading away from the local grocery store.    As I asked myself if I should offer her a ride, I saw her set the bags down and attempt to readjust them so that they did not pull so tightly on her wrists and shoulders.   

 

Her action was my answer so I offered her a ride, which she graciously accepted.    She lived about a half mile out of my way, one mile round trip.  The whole event cost me 5 minutes and about $0.15 (gas @ $2.99/gallon in a van that gets about 20 miles/gallon).    I did not think much about it…………until I pondered the next series of events.

 

I was on my way to my parents’ home because I needed Dad’s pick-up to haul hay.    The supply I bought this summer is disappearing more rapidly than I anticipated; at the current rate of usage it will be gone by mid-February.   At the current rate of snowfall the pastures will still be covered until mid-April.    This is a problem for my cellulose-craving sheep; it seems unlikely that they will be happy (or healthy) if I make them go without food for two months.    I needed more hay, about 18 bales more.   As I no longer have a truck (….oh Peter!  I miss you!!), I asked Dad if I could borrow his.   He graciously agreed not only to loan me his truck but to help me haul hay as well.

 

So far, so good.

 

Dad decided that it would be easier to borrow the neighbor’s trailer than take the canopy off his truck (a decision he later questioned….).    When I arrived at my parents’ home (after my 5 minute/$0.15 detour) Dad led me to the truck, which was stuck in the neighbor’s driveway.   

 

I need to clarify something before proceeding with this story.   I appreciate my Father’s truck.   It has taken me on numerous Women’s and Children’s camping adventures, hauled countless bales of hay for me, and recently carried 28 Ogden Preparatory Academy students’ backpacks to the Grand Canyon and back.   I really do appreciate the truck BUT (you knew there was a “but” coming, didn’t you?) it is a wimpy truck.    It gets stuck just facing a puddle—entering the water and/or mud is not necessary—approaching it is all it takes.  Green grass, damp dirt, a slight slope—I have seen all of these conditions hopeless mire Dad’s truck.

 

Back to the story…..

 

Pulling a trailer on a snow covered driveway was too much for the truck and it was, predictably, stuck.   After a couple futile attempts to push the truck out, we unhooked the trailer and tried again to free the vehicle.    Ten minutes of shovel work, salt placement, and back-and-forth pushing yielded results; the truck could move but the trailer could not.

 

Another neighbor (not the owner of the trailer) noticed our predicament, hooked his double axelled, four wheel drive truck to the trailer and pulled it onto the road for us.    We re-attached the trailer to Dad’s truck and were off to the next aspect of our adventure.

 

The barn that houses the hay that I wanted to purchase sits at the end of a 100 meter driveway.    Dad pulled in the driveway and circled so that he could back the trailer into the barn.   The circle he drove took the truck into a ditch that was concealed by a snow bank.    Stuck.   Again.   Slick snow, deep ditch, timid truck…..there was no way we were getting out of this one without help.  

 

The hay farmer and his foreman (and his tractor) came to the rescue.    The tractor hadn’t been started all winter so it took some time, effort and a couple sprays from a propellant-powered can of some sort to get it going.   Finally fired up and then hooked up, the tractor needed three tries to get the truck out of the ditch.

 

When the truck was once again free, we loaded the hay without drama and began the drive to my home (8 miles away) where we planned to stack the hay under the rainfly in my holey hay shed.

 

Two blocks from my house a bearing on the trailer came apart.  It was the bearing that holds the axle together so a wheel and half an axle went wildly east, a chain link fence the only thing keeping it from careening onto the train tracks.   The backing plate (the metal dish that supports the brake drums) carved a 30 meter long, 2 cm deep grove in the road before we stopped.   And we were stopped.  Again. 

 

Two blocks is not much when one is walking or even running but two blocks is a long way to haul 18 seventy-five pound hay bales.     Neighbors to the rescue.   Again.

 

I walked to Brixey’s (our north next door neighbors) and asked to borrow their truck.    While Dad and I were transferring hay from the trailer to the Brixey’s truck, an unknown (and as yet unidentified) man pulled up behind us, got out, and, joining us in our hay-transferring efforts, said, “I work at the machining shop just down the street [three blocks south] and I have a fork lift I could use to help you get this trailer off the street until you can get it repaired.”

 

Dad, Mr. Machinist, and I finished transferring the hay.   I drove the Brixey’s truck to my holey hay shed and stacked the hay under the rainfly.   In the meantime, Mr. Machinist and Dad used the forklift to transport the crippled trailer to the machining shop parking lot where it would stay until Dad could go home, get the canopy off the truck (yes, there is a HUGE irony is this), and return at which point Mr. Machinist would again use the forklift to put the trailer into the back of the truck and Dad would haul it to a repair shop.   

 

As of this morning, all is in its proper place.  The trailer is in the shop, the hay is in the barn, and Dad’s truck, canopy in place, is in his garage.    And there is a beautiful green leather couch in my living room.

 

Saint Sallie (my sweet sister-in-law) learned that I wanted a new-to-me couch to replace the 4th generation (started with cousin Jennilyn, transferred to sister-in-law Jill, moved to Parents Hislop, and finally ended up with me) red/green/gold/navy striped couch that currently lives in my living room.    There is nothing wrong with our couch, it’s just that when people sit in in, they sink so deep a forklift is needed to get them out….and at $22/hour (see below) forklifts are expensive.   So a new-to-me couch would be nice.   Sallie is nice so she has been scouring ksl.com’s classifieds to find a couch for me.   

 

On this same fortuitous Friday morning Sallie found a free green leather couch available in Sunset.    The owner told Sallie that two other people had called wanting it and the first one there could have it.   Without hesitation, not even taking time to call me, Sallie removed the seats from her van and drove quickly to Sunset.   She won the couch race, loaded the maxi couch into her mini van, drove to my house and delivered it just as I finished stacking the hay in the holey shed.    Dad and I carried the couch into the living room and there it sits.

 

Curious, I decided to do a little figuring…. 

                Cost of renting a 5 x 8 box trailer to haul hay, 4 hr minimum                         $30

                Cost of tow to pull trailer onto street                                                                     

                                               $45 hookup fee plus $3/mile                                            $48

                Labor cost of neighbor who pulled trailer to street

                                                      Contractor, $50/hour for 15 minutes                          $13

                Cost of renting a 4WD tractor, 1 hr minimum                                                  $45

                Labor cost of farm foreman    $16/hour for 30 minutes                                    $ 8

                Labor cost of hay farmer not calculated because sometimes farmers end up paying for the

                                 opportunity to farm

                Cost of renting a truck to haul hay for 2 blocks, 75 minute minimum               $20

                Cost to rent forklift $22/hour, 1 hour minimum                                                  $22

                Labor cost of machinist $22/hour for 30 minutes                                              $11

               Labor and truck rental cost for Dad’s services not calculated for fear I would feel obligated to

                           pay him if I knew...

                Moving van to haul couch, $20/day one day minimum                                      $20

                Green leather couch, eBay $100                                                                      $100

                Cost of labor for Sallie’s service also not calculated because she is priceless.

                                       TOTAL:                                  $315
[Estimates based on current online price listings from Diamond Rental, Ogden; Great Harvest Bread, Clinton; Home Depot, Ogden; Google searches, and eBay]

“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days” has a new meaning for me.  I am not the financial genius of the family but it seems that $315 is not a bad return for a $0.15 investment….   I think I got the best end of the deal and it did not even take “many days” for it to come back to me.

 

Melvin J. Ballard said it another way: “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return. “   I testify it is not quite true.   Friday I have gave a couple  crusts worth of service (Great Harvest Bread slices average $.30/slice so $.15 is a reasonable cost for a crust or two) and I got 63 loaves worth of service (most Great Harvest breads are $5/loaf;  $315/5 = 63).    It is not true because the return on investment was much greater than one crust to one loaf.    Seriously.

 

So, cast your bread upon the waters……and see what comes back to you.   It probably will not be soggy bread.  It may not be a forklift or a green couch either but it is bound to be good.

 

Love,
Teresa


 

P.S.   BREAKING NEWS:    Chick placed sixth place in the rigorous 18 team Richardson Memorial  Wrestling tournament this weekend.   He sucked weight to drop to 160 lbs, was ranked 17th going into the tournament, made the kid who ended up placing first work hard to defeat him, knocked the 4th ranked kid out of the tournament, won three matches to get into the medals rounds, and walked away with a sixth place medal.   He was on the top of his wrestling game and now, with his first Varsity medal in hand, he is on top of the world as well.  




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The hay hauling, half axle trailer
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The holey hay shed
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The branches that came down in an ice storm that made the hay shed holey and converted the rainfly from convenient to crucial. [See "Broken" blog entry, 8 December 2013.]
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The fourth generation couch
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The new-to-me green leather couch
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Two point take down for Hislop of Roy, 160 lb weight class, Richardson Memorial Wrestling Tournament
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Hislop works to tilt his opponent
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Big grin
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Big medal
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Big boys!
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Things I Know......

1/5/2014

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What do I know today that I did not know a year ago?     The new year brings new beginnings, new resolves, new ideas but what did the old year bring?     Did I learn anything in 2013?    Gratefully, the answer is yes.







In 2013:


  • I learned how to text but not how to use Twitter.   My niece, Morgan Housley, invited me to join her on Twitter and I have no idea how to do that.

  • I learned that my parathyroid gland sits underneath my left collar bone, beside anhd slightly behind my carotid artery.

  • I learned that my cell phone is very useful for texting, keeping contact information, and calendaring but it is a lousy planner.    I have switched back to paper and pencil for my to-do lists and goal managing.

  • I learned that this spring I will plant fewer tomatoes and more fruit trees.

  • I learned that I can take parents and students on a field trip to Havasupai and enjoy the experience.

  • I learned that global climate change is occurring.

  • I learned that I am NOT sending 200+ Christmas cards next year.    Too many.

  • I learned that thick, high quality socks are worth the price one must pay for them.

  • I learned that I love Zorro, the underwear eating, broken glass licking, too-dumb-to-let-himself-out-of-the-bedroom dog.    Yes, it is true.    His heart is good even if his brain is not.    He has wriggled his way into my heart and will probably hollow out an increasingly bigger spot there.   [NOTE: As if to test my new knowledge, he just puked a sock up on my carpet.   What compels him to eat socks?    I still love him but don’t like him much right now.]

 

Most of the things I learned in 2013 are not new; they are simply deeper; I know them MORE than I did before.     Things I know MORE in 2013 include:

  • I know that I love Primary.   The “I-do-not-like-children” woman that I used to be is gone; I love working with the children in Primary.    Church meetings fly by; every Sunday is a delight.   I dread the day that I am released from my calling in the Primary and forced to return to adult classes.   May that day be a long time away!!!  [NOTE:  I am still immune to the charms of infants and most toddlers.]

  • I recognize that I love my job.   Seriously.   I mourned when I had to return to the work force; leaving the sanctity of my home seemed a tragic thing.    Being a mother is still my principle responsibility and my greatest joy but this year I realized that being a teacher is also a great source of joy to me.    The students and staff at Ogden Preparatory Academy enrich my life in ways that I never imagined possible.     As I was watching “my” boys (male students that attend my science class) play basketball against SAA I realized that I loved, truly loved, every single one of them, even the one who makes my life easier when he is absent.    Love is a blessing and I love my job.

  • I know more the power of personal revelation.   God hears and answers my prayers.   He sends insights and inspiration.    He guides my life to the degree that I invite Him in.    I have felt His guidance and I feel His love.  I know that I am one of His daughters and that I am pursuing a path that pleases Him.

  • I know, more deeply than ever before, that I love being a mother.   Our children bring joy at levels I never knew existed before I became a parent.

  • I know, also on levels I did not know existed, that I love Lance.   He is bedrock to me; constant and foundational, he is a beloved and vital component of the life I am building.

  • I know, more than ever, that I love writing.   One of the joys of writing is know that one has readers.   Thank you for reading my writings.   You bring me joy.

 

What do you know today that you did not know a year ago?

 

Love,
Teresa



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In 2013 Hislops learned to cross country ski. In 2014 Watkins learned to cross country ski.
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Miles enjoys a snow cone al natural.
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Spencer orders one of the same.
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Miles is up...........
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....and down......
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.....and up again!
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Miles eats popcorn.
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Miles and Zorro eat popcorn.
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These three have lots in common, including a grandmother.
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Slip slidin' away!
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Beautiful parents!!
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Beautiful daughter! (Happy fifteenth!!)
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Father and son on the run!
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Mother and son having fun!
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    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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