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Stories, Scriptures, Songs

9/30/2013

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This week I have stories, scriptures and songs.    Perhaps, in a long distant day, the stories will become scripture or songs….but don’t count on it.

Stories first.

Wednesday, when I was pulling out of our driveway do my carpool duties, a young woman flagged me down.   Rolling down my window, I looked at her quizzically.    “Will you take me  home,” she said tearfully, “My boyfriend punched me so I got out of the car and now I need a ride home.”    

Children are so good.   The boys—Josh, Dason, and Miles—accepted the presence of a smoke-smelling, Hispanic stranger in the car without question and chatted with her freely.    After taking Josh and Dason to Dason’s house, I delivered Destiny to her West Ogden home.    
 
On the way back to Roy I told Miles why Destiny was in our car.  “Why would a man do that?” he asked.   I told him there were a variety of reasons, none of them good.    “I hope I never do that,” he said.

“Son,” said I, “that is not something you hope for; that is something you decide.   You decide you will never hit your girlfriend or wife and then you simply never do it.”

“Okay,” he said easily.  “I will never do it.”

Good.

Chick has never hit his girlfriend or wife.   Of course, Chick has never had a girlfriend or wife.    He had not even had a traditional date…..until this weekend.   [Lance and I drove him and the young lady he took on his only other date,
which is certainly not traditional.]   He cleaned the bathroom and did dishes for Grace to get her theater ticket, he traded the
Wal-Mart gift cards he earned referee-ing soccer games to get cash for dinner, he cleaned out Lance’s car to make room for a passenger, and then he called Jessica.    Three hang-ups and “I’ll call back in a minute”’s later, he had a date.    He did not say a lot but he bounced around the house a lot.   It was obvious to all of us that he was pretty pleased.

The best news is that he was  still pretty pleased after the date.  Apparently they had a great time. “Mom, we talked for three
hours!”   Talking about anything (except Dr. Who) for longer than three minutes is great for Chick.     I was pretty pleased
too.  [For the record, they did talk about Dr. Who but not the whole time.]

I was also pleased about  parent/teacher conferences this week…which is good since I had many of them.

At school’s beginning Apple (name changed) and I had some problems.   During an outdoor field trip, he did something so disobedient, disrespectful, and defiant that I was left speechless.   Shocked and angry, I had to stop the field trip and take everyone back to the classroom; I really could not say anything.  I need to mention at this point that Apple was also very disruptive in class and had not completed any of his assignments.

A few days later we had a meeting for those interested in going to Havasupai. Students hoping to go on the field trip have to complete an  application.   There is a place on the application that requires the students to get a signature from each
of their teachers, indicating that they are in good academic standing in the class and are approved to go.    Apple attended the meeting and picked up an application.   Later that day, he asked me to sign the application.   I told him that I could not sign it at that time and would have to think about it.

I thought about it all weekend.   He worked on his application all weekend.

The applications were due Monday.   He came in Monday at lunch, his essay written, the required research done, and all the teacher’s signatures present—except mine.  “Will you sign this?” he asked.    
 
“Sit down,” said I.  “We need to talk.”

I am a “yes” person.   I really am.   Unless the request deals with watching T.V. or playing computer games, I generally say “yes”; it is really hard for me to say no, especially when it comes to life-is-the-stories-you-can-tell experiences.

I told Apple that what he had done on the field trip earlier had completely destroyed the trust between us.    He could build
that trust back up—and I hoped that he would—but it would take some time to build that trust back up.   There simply was not enough time between the incident and the Havasupai field trip for him to restore the trust.  
  
“Does this mean that I cannot go?” he asked.

“That is right,” I said, as  gently as I could.  “You cannot go with us to Havasupai.”

A couple tears rolled down his brown cheeks as I told him about our spring, southern Utah trip.    I expressed my desires to take him on that trip and my confidence that he could earn my trust back by then.   And then I let him go.

Oh baby!   It was SO hard.

Apple turned over a new leaf.   He stopped pesting others and started doing his classwork.  At mid-term he is earning an A….which brings me back to parent/teacher conferences.  
 
Apple and his tattoo-ed, truck driving dad sat down at my table.  “I don’t know if Apple told you,” I started, “but he and I had a little trouble at the beginning of the year….”  Instead of disclosing details, I told the father how proud I was of his son; that Apple had taken responsibility for the incident and had used it as a stepping stone to ramp up his school achievement.   I bragged about Apple for a few minutes. Dad Apple was a bit taken back. “I’m not used to hearing those kinds of things about my son,” he said. “We’ve struggled in the past.”  As I re-affirmed the positive things I’d said about the son, the father’s
grin widened.   I ended by telling Dad Apple about our southern Utah field trip, expressing my hope that his son would come with me.   “Do you let parents come?” the dad asked.   Smiling, I invited him and told him the trip dates.   As he wrote them down he said, “I am telling my boss someone else will have to drive that week.   I will be with you.”       

On the first day of school Apricot (name changed) told me that he was new to OPA, having transferred to Ogden from England.   In a mild English accent, he told me that he liked it here.   Over the next five weeks I referred to his English past several times in  class and he urged me to visit Britain.   At the end of his parent/teacher conference, searching for something to say as the mother filled out a form, I said, “So I understand that you moved here from England….”   The mother’s head shot up as Apricot’s face turned as red as a Latino face can.   “England?” questioned the mother at the same time as Apricot sputtered “….uh….I was going to tell you……”    Turns out, they are from 36th Street….in Ogden.   Apricot tried to  apologize but I would not let him; I was laughing too hard.   He totally got me, “hook, line, and sinker” as the saying goes.

When I sat down in front of Mr. Peer at Roy High’s parent/teacher conference, he made “I’m not worthy” signs
to me.   ?????   “Let me tell you about your children, starting with Chick.”   He proceeded to tell me that Chick’s intellect and example has raised the level of the entire comparative government class.   After lauding Chick he leaned forward and told me how amazing Tanah is in his debate class.  He went on about Tanah for several minutes as well.  
“I don’t know what you are doing at home but, please, keep doing it.   Your children are incredible.”

W OW!   Though I really cannot claim much credit for either of their accomplishments, it was a moment of glory for me.  

I was reminded of a scripture I read recently in 3 Nephi 11:11.  Christ said, “I have….glorified the Father..”   Christ’s actions glorified his Father.   In a similar way, though on a much diminished scale, my children’s  actions glorify me.     When I think of the intense joy I felt when glorified by my children, I imagine the joy our Heavenly Father must feel when we do things to glorify Him and I am inspired to act in a way that will bring Him glory….and joy.      Hallelujah!

“Hallelujah, Hallelujah” is the chorus to one of the songs we will be singing in Conference next Saturday.   WOW! What an experience it has been already. Yesterday (Saturday) morning we rehearsed in the Conference Center.    Sitting in the Tabernacle Choir loft and looking out over 21,000 seats wasn’t as intimidating as I feared it would be.  (Of course the seats
were empty at the time.  It may be a whole different story when they are full….)   The seats seem very far away.     When we
focus on Sister Felstead, which is what we should be doing, it actually seems rather intimate.

We are seated in families which makes things a bit trickier.  For one thing, we cannot stand to sing because if we do, the children will be hidden.  Family sitting also means that we are not grouped by the parts we sing.  I sit between two basses
(which Lance says makes me a shortstop…two bases….baseball pun…) and there is a wall behind me.   I cannot hear anyone singing the soprano part….except myself and I don’t have a lot of faith in me.    Yet I know that the chance of my hitting the notes are better if I sing out strong so I sing with confidence and faith, praying that I will hit the notes correctly.  I know God will help us.  We have done our part, He will do His.   I am really quite excited to hear what He does with my voice next Saturday.
 
“A long time ago in a beautiful place,
Children were gathered round Jesus.
He blessed and taught as they felt of His love.
Each saw the tears on His face.

The love that He felt for His little ones,
I know He feels from me.
I did not touch Him or sit on His knee,
But Jesus is real to me.

I know He lives!
I will follow faithfully.
My heart I give to Him.
I know that my Savior loves me!”


What an incredible opportunity to sing out my testimony.   I have not touched Him or sat on his knee but Jesus IS real to me.   I KNOW He lives.  And I KNOW that my Savior loves me.   
 
He loves you too!

Teresa


 

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Making grape juice is a fun fall activity....
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We started with three boxes like this...
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The loaded sieve is placed in the juice collector..
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After 2 or so hours, the juice is drained from the juice collector into bottles.
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After rinsing, the grapes are loaded into the sieve.
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...and the loaded juice collector is placed over a pan of boiling water on the stove.
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The empty bottles await filling and the sealed bottles await emptying.
YUM!!!!
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Power

9/23/2013

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POWER.

In physics, power (symbol: P) is defined as the amount of energy consumed per unit time. In the MKS (meter, kilogram and/or second) system, the unit of power is the joule per second (J/s).    In my world, power is defined as the ability to do good.   In the TNH (Teresa Noel Hislop) system, the result is measured in units of joy per episode (J/e).  This type of power
multiplies; the more power one uses, the more power one has.    No law of diminishing returns
here!

As I began my drive home at the end of my contract day Friday I thought, “I love my job!!”   It is true.  I love my job.  I love my
job because it gives me so much power.  And, believe me, I am VERY power hungry!   I thrive on the J/e.  As an additional bonus I frequently re-live the moments when I’ve used my powers and re-experience the J/e rush.    Let me re-live a few of
them now with you.

I have a QUALITY board in my classroom; a bulletin board where I display excellent work.   Last week I sent a congratulatory
postcard home to the parents of the students whose work is displayed on the board.   Overhearing some whispers about cards, I asked one of my classes what their parents’ reactions had been.    Red [*names have been changed to colors], a quiet young man whose learning challenges qualify him for Special Ed accommodations,   said, “My mom and dad just kept telling me over and over again how proud they were of me.”   Several students echoed his comment.  Tan told me, “My
parents gave me three extra hours on the X-box.”   Hot Pink said, “My parents tried to trick me and told me that I was in trouble in your class.”   Orange told me that her parents posted hers on the refrigerator.

OH MY LANDS!    I was forcefully struck by how much power I have.   Me.  Little ole’ me.  All I did was sign the back of some postcards—the secretary personalized, printed, and posted them—and that tiny  act had a relatively significant impact on the atmosphere of about 20 homes.   I could almost visualize my hand reaching into those homes and turning up the happiness
thermostat.   Talk about power!!   

We are preparing for our six day backpacking field trip to Havasupai in the Grand Canyon.  Thirty 8th and 9th graders submitted applications, ran a mile, and brought their parents to a meeting Wednesday night.    After the meeting, parents and prospective hikers mingled, chatting excitedly about the trip.     I looked over the crowd and thought, Oh my, Oh My, OH MY!! These parents are trusting me with their children; some of these parents are trusting me with a week of their vacation time; all of the participants are spending what to me is a significant amount of money because they trust me; students and parents are trusting my claims that carrying a 25-30 pound backpack 13 miles to down into the Grand Canyon and 13 miles back up out of the Grand Canyon will be a good experience…….Who am I to do this?   And WHY am I doing this?”

The answer to the “Who” question is irrelevant.  I have no special abilities; anyone in my position could do the same. 
It is the answer to the “Why” question that is important.   I am doing it because I have power. 
 
In his field trip application, Yellow said he wanted to go because he had never been out of the state of Utah before.   I have the power to make that statement false.     

The effort Green, another Special Ed student who, if his academic prowess matched the greatness of his soul, would be a Harvard Scholar, is investing to earn his place on the trip list melts my heart.    In his school clothes, wearing shoes that don’t lace up, he ran the required mile.    “Mrs. Hislop, do you have a cell phone?” he asked me.   “I am afraid I’ll get confused about when the parent meeting is so can I have your cell phone so I can call and ask you?”     He called me at 4:00 p.m., two hours before the 6:00 parent meeting, to confirm the time.   After the parent meeting he asked me if I had his cell phone number on my phone and requested that I call him to remind him of the mandatory service project (scheduled for Oct 9) He is afraid he will forget.  He and his father spent time in SLC this weekend looking for sponsors to help pay for his trip.    I clearly have power in Green’s life….and he has power in mine.   His trust and willingness to work has done my heart good.  I will carry that kid into the Grand Canyon if I have to!

I have power at home too.   I walked into the kitchen at 8:00 Wednesday night and found Grace literally crying in her soup bowl.   She had been up late the night before.  Fatigue combined with frustration made the essay she had to write seem entirely un-do-able.   Expressing confidence in her, ignoring the stacks of dirty dishes that decorated the room and swallowing the comment I was tempted to make about the evils of procrastination, I shepherded her into the office and typed the essay she dictated.    It was a powerful experience for both of us.

Miles crawled in bed with me at 3:30 this morning.  “Mom, I had a nightmare and I’m super scared.”  After snuggling with me for five or so minutes, he said, “Mom, I am still super scared.”
"What you are scared of,” I asked him, “that could get you while you are in your mother’s arms?”
“Aliens”
“Aliens cannot get you while I am holding you,” I responded.
“Their fingernails are lknives.”
“Don’t you know?” I queried, “Moms have invisible force fields around them that not even aliens cannot penetrate.”
“Poor Dad,” he said.

Though he may not have a mother’s force field, Lance still has power.    While at school he somehow captured another teacher’s screen.  Everything Lance did or displayed on his computer monitor showed up on the projector screen in Mr. Brown’s class.   Tanah’s comment, “My dad can take over another teacher’s computer. Can you imagine what he would do if he were president? ……  ‘Hey, what happened to New Zealand?   I thought that red button was to order breakfast…..”   (Okay, maybe you had to have been there.  It really was funny at the time.)

There are powerful people all around; I know because I’ve felt their power in my life.   Sister Sorensen uses her power
 every time she sends me an appreciative email with exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Sallie used her power to process my tomatoes and Michelle used hers when she gave me fresh, homemade salsa.  Emily’s powers touched my life when she stopped me in the hall to give me a hug as did Beth’s when she left a message about blueberries on sale at Kent’s.  Koni’s observation about my mothering talents warmed my heart, Sandy’s powerful “You look amazing” made my day, and Melanie’s comment that she finds my blog posts insightful totally lifted me.  And these are not the only powerful people around.

The point of this post is not that I possess super powers (which I don’t), nor is it that I have powerful friends (which I
do).  The point is that we all possess power, ALL of us.  This week the realization that we have immense (and probably
immeasurable) power hit me like pigeon poop on a newly washed car; I’ve been as aware of it as I am aware of second toe on my right foot that I never thought about until I stubbed it and now it seems that I use it for everything except brushing my teeth.  
 
Power.   Each of us has more power than the 3,561,092,106,535 gallons of water (September 19, 2013 measurement) that lie behind the Glen Canyon dam.  (Imagine!!!)  Who we are individually is irrelevant; using power requires no special abilities.  Why we have power IS important. It is important because the why of our power is also the where.  I believe that we have power because we are children of God. Our power is His power; He is the ultimate source of good and our power to do good comes from Him.  With us, His literal spiritual offspring, He shares His power to do good, to touch hearts, to change
lives.

WOW!

Love,
Teresa   

P.S.  An unintended benefit of using power is that it chases mist lists and monkey minds away.:)



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Michelle's fresh salsa
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Sallie's processed tomatoes
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We Are Peaches!

9/17/2013

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It has been said “You are what you eat”.   If this is true, then we are peaches and cream.   
This week we ate two bushels of peaches.   I picked two bushels of tomatoes, a bushel of squash, a half bushel of cucumbers, a gallon of raspberries, and two bushels of peaches.  
The peaches are gone; not frozen, not bottled, not dried.  Gone. Eaten.  With cream and sugar.   YUM!!!!

It has also been said “You are what you think. 
        Sow a thought, and you reap an act, Sow an act, and you reap a habit; Sow a habit, and you reap a character; Sow a character, and you reap a destiny.    (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

If this is true, then Miles is destined to play in the National Football League.     Do you know what the Green Bay Packer’s 2013 season record is?   He does.   He also knows Weber State’s (WSU) season record, and Roy High School’s season record.    He read 1000 pages this summer, partially to get a football ticket to a WSU football game.   He coerced Lance into taking him to Roy High’s football game Friday night and, after his soccer game Saturday morning, he begged me to let him watch a random little league football game, played by children he did not know, that just happened to be occurring nearby.   
 
Every morning that I do not have to go into Ogden Prep to work, Miles pressures me into playing catch with him in the front yard.    It does not matter if he is ready for school 2 minutes or 20 minutes early, if it is raining or sunny, or  if I want to play or not, he plans on tossing the football back and forth.    Monday, after I managed to catch the ball several times in a row Miles said, “Mom, you are GOOD!    If you would have played football in college, you could have been a star in the NFL!”    If……..

Miles thinks and acts football.    Friday, eighth graders at Ogden Prep thought about and acted out kinetic and potential energy.   
 
Bowling balls bounce.   Bouncing bowling balls catch  students’ attention……and administrator’s attention.    I dropped a bowling ball in class to demonstrate the difference between potential energy (energy of position; object is not moving but has potential to move because of its position) and kinetic energy (energy of motion).     Bouncing bowling balls make a big noise in my classroom on the second floor.   Apparently they make a bigger noise in the office on the main floor that lies directly under my second floor classroom.   After the first couple bounces, a voice came over the intercom, “Mrs. Hislop??  Are you alright?”

The bouncing bowling ball initiated the thinking about energy types; kicking chairs was the action piece.  All of us took our chairs outside, stood on them, put our arms above our heads in an inverted V, pretended we were positioned on a PEAK and chanted “PEAK….P….POTENTIAL”.   Then we leapt from our “peaks”, kicked our chairs and chanted “KICK….K….KINETIC”.    Kinetic and potential energy….come to think about it, that pretty much  sums up eighth graders!

If Zorro is what he thinks then he does not exist; he is so stupid it is hard to believe he thinks at all.    He was in the girls’ room and wanted out.  The door was partially closed so he nosed it open, which would have been a smart thing had his paw not been in the way.   But his paw was in the way.   When he pushed the door, he pinched his paw and, yelping loudly, ran to
Tanah.   “Help me,” his look to her said, “I am too stupid to let myself out of this room.” 
 
We are thinking a lot about singing however I do not believe we are destined to be singers, at least not good ones.   It seems, however, that we are destined to sing in a choir in General Conference.    The vocal parts for all the songs we are to sing have been posted on a blog and Lance downloaded them to our various electronic devises.    Lance sang the bass part to several of the songs all the way to Provo when he drove down to deliver honey to Tammy.    I echo the soprano part as
I drive to OPA and back.  Grace sings as she cleans her room.   We passed last week’s clothing inspection; all the girls have appropriately jewel-colored blouses and we found a black jacket for Lance.    We have been given seating assignments—very back row on the left side as you face the choir seats.   And, apparently, we passed the background check; no one called telling us we otherwise.  
 
“On this day of joy and gladness, Lord we praise thy holy name…….”  Words to our choir songs frequently flow through my head.  I love having them there.   It is a welcome respite to the monkey-mind, mist-lists I wrote about last week; almost, ALMOST they drown out the constant need-to-do agenda items that frequently harass me.

I am pleased (VERY PLEASED) to report that some things have dropped off that omnipresent list.   Jeanna and Chris drove all the way from Provo to deliver 150 rolls of toilet paper!    The toilet paper is terrific; the knowledge that they cared enough to connect is priceless. I have also washed towels and bought bread.  Dawnie read about my gratitude on the blog so no need to send that card.  And I figured out when Tanah’s cross country meets are.  

Early this morning (1:20 a.m.; don’t ask!) I read the following questions in Sean Covey’s book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens “What is the driving force in my life? What do I spend my time thinking about?”     Good questions.

What is the driving force in my life?   I would hope that it is a love of God and all mankind; a desire to do what is right for me, my family, and my God.   
 
What do I spend most of my time thinking about?   Lately the answer to this question is much more clear and much less noble.   I spend most of my time thinking about how much time I don’t have.    I think about the things I need to do and fret about how and when I am going to do them.   They are good things, most of the things that haunt me.   In fact, I have asked God why He gives me impulses to do good things without giving me time to yield to the impulses.   [He hasn’t answered me yet.]  Good things or no, the fixation on time is not good.    
 
Sow a stressed thought, reap a stressed act; sow a stressed act, reap a stressed habit; sow a stressed habit, reap a stressed character, sow a stressed character, reap a stressed destiny.

I don’t know exactly what my destiny is but I am certain it is NOT to be stressed by my lack of time.   I probably should to find out  what my destiny is…… I guess I’ll add that to my list…………..    JUST KIDDING!!!

Love,
Teresa


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Cucumbers....still in the bucket
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Tomatoes.....still in the buckets
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Squash....still in the bucket
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Raspberries.....still in the frig
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Peaches....now in our tummies!
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Tonio the Duck (see last week's letter)
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Mists

9/8/2013

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I have no stories.  

I have task lists.  

I have a written task list; I have  specific mental task lists; I have half-formed task lists that bounce around in my mind like bingo balls in a rotating cage.    The written list is under control; compiled into a single notebook , I consult it frequently and cross things off it not quite as frequently.   The mental task lists are somewhat under control; on their way to the written list, they are mostly
captured and domesticated.    The half-formed task lists that bounce around in my head are driving me crazy; random and wild, they have no respect for person, place or thing.

Interrupting my prayers, disrupting my exercise, and corrupting my recreation, these nagging, noxious need-thoughts haunt most of my waking moments.   “Those spaghetti sauce trails on the kitchen island really need to go….Tell the grandparents
about the Primary Program on Sunday (fail)…..Did I really text Koni on her birthday and forget to wish her a happy birthday? 
(yes)…..Oh dear, those beets Chick harvested from me last Saturday are  still in a bucket in the basement…..I have GOT to figure out what I am going to do to enrich the Science Honors class…..Dawnie is doing a fabulous job with nursery; I need to send her a thank you card……Toilet paper!  We are almost out of toilet paper……John Malan—Haven’t seen him in a month
or more—Must visit him……What am I going to fix for dinner?....... What am I going to have the rest of my students do while I tutor those who failed the quiz?...... What am I going to write on the blog?...... Havasupai—EEK!—Must get started with parent meeting, service project, mile run, etc. associated with the Havasupai trip…..Blackberries have not been picked for a week and a half….Need to visit Caleb and find out why he has quit coming to Primary…..Must get Lance a black suit coat for this week’s choir dress rehearsal…..Must start memorizing songs for choir…….Need to get insurance for the Acura…..And what are we going to do with the dead pickup?...... Do I have to fix dinner again tonight?  (yes)……How is Chick doing in
school—Must check his grades…..Does Grace still need a physical so she can compete in cross country?  (yes)……The peaches are ripe.  Better check the pears to see if they are ripe….Time to butcher the pig……Lesson plans are due Monday……Does the pasture need water?  Fertilizer?...... Miles!   We need to read together!!!!...... Go to DonorsChoose.org  to try to get funds for lab equipment…..Oh soccer practice!  How am I going to get Miles there?.......That sink is gross!!!!.....OPE!   Out of towels; need to do laundry……How are Mom and Dad?  Haven’t talked to them in ages…..Bread?   Who ate the last loaf of bread and didn’t tell me?......When are Tanah’s cross country meets?  I really need to hunt down
that schedule……I can write my name in the bookshelf dust in my room….. The kids still have not sent THANK YOU’s to the people who bought their fair animals (4-5 weeks ago)……”

Like a mist, these circling thoughts cloud everything.

I was in a mist this week.


Monday Chick and I hiked to Ben Lomond Peak (15.2 miles, 6.45 hours, 2,550 elevation gain).   It was grueling in a totally awesome way.  Generally I hike with friends or students who ask for rest stops, requests that I graciously grant.   Chick did not ask for a rest stop, not once.  Sucking air and burning butt, I followed him up and down the mountain.   The physical
exertion was exhilarating, the chance to chat with my son was charming, the fall colors on the trail were fabulous, and the view at the top was non-existent.

About two-thirds the way up the mountain, we entered the cloud had been crowning the mountain all day. The trail became misty; visibility dropped to 10-15 feet.  Wind tore at us and rain pelted us.   We pushed on to the top where we sat long enough to snap a few pictures and then headed down.  

While in the mist, the wind took our breath away.   When we exited the mist, the scenery was breath-taking; reds, yellows, and oranges moving in on green territory, blue and red berries highlighting bush branches, water droplets glistening in the sunshine.  WOW!   I took several  “stop (but not sit down!) and smell the roses” moments and enjoyed intensely the trail’s offerings.  (See photos.)

Back to the present……….

While in the mental mist, circling thoughts take my joy away; I don’t enjoy any moment because every minute is full of un-fillable demands.   It is grueling but it is not awesome.   Step out of the mist, Teresa!!

As I “step out of the mist”, I can see that some wonderful things happened this week:

Chick tried to go to ComicCon with some friends and enjoyed his evening so much that he came in my bedroom to tell me of his adventures three times when he came home. “Mom, can I just tell you one more thing…..”

Tanah auditioned for the high school play and was thrilled to make call backs.  She felt she blew her call-back audition and was devastated.    She was cast as the Milkmaid in “Slipper and the Rose” and is thrilled again.

Miles came home from school ecstatic.  “I made my first pick [interception] today!” he said.  “Some of the people at school told me they hated me because I am so good at football.  I think that is so fun.”

The Soay ram is back with the Soay ewes for the first time since November 2012.  He thinks that is so fun.

.I taped a sign on the yellow ceramic duck in my classroom that says “Tonio the Duck” because Tonio had admired the
duck and suggested I name it after him.   On Free Dress Friday, Tonio wore a bright yellow shirt to school so that he and his duck would match. 

Lance heard the sinking tone in my voice 5:00 a.m. Saturday when I described all that I had to do for school.  He asked what he, full time teacher and cross country coach, could do to help me, part time teacher who has no coaching responsibilities, with my school stuff.  Darling man.

Mom and Dad Hislop offered to pay up to $10,000 for each of their children’s families to go on a vacation with them; five children, five different vacations.   We get to decide where to go and what to do.   Talk about swirling thoughts!  But these are fun swirls…..WOW!

Well, I took one thing out of the circling thought cloud; I figured out what I am going to write on the blog this week.  Tally ho!!!

Teresa




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Chick at the top of Ben Lomond Peak
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Where is the top of Ben Lomond Peak?
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The view from the top of Ben Lomond Peak
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Tess at the top of Ben Lomond Peak
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2 Comments

Favorite Teacher

9/1/2013

1 Comment

 
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“May I address you as ‘Favorite Teacher’?” one of my students asked on the second day of class. No wonder I love teaching!!   

Near the conclusion of a discussion on “QUALITY” and the importance of doing high quality work and being high quality people, I asked  the students, “So what?  Why am I spending so much time discussing quality with you?”    A young woman in the back said, “Because you love
us?”

The answer caught me off guard for a moment.   Do I love my often-squirrely, often vulnerable, almost always pure-hearted OPA eighth graders?   Yes I do. Yes, yes, I do.   I teach, preach, and expect them to do quality work and be quality people because
quality people succeed and success is what I want for them……because I love them.   Good point Olivia!

School at Ogden Preparatory Academy is back in full swing.  I taught Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, all day.  This year, in an effort to meet our bills, I picked up another class; I teach every period without a break, doing all my preparation and correction work at home.    

School…..gotta love it!   Chick loves it.   He is excited about his bio-aquaculture class where his task is to build a system that will keep fish alive and he loves his AP Literature class, even though he is currently failing it.   (Oh my, here we go again!)  
Tanah loves her AP European History class though doing homework for it has put bags under her eyes.    Grace loves her keyboarding teacher (Mr. Hislop) but hates keyboarding.   Miles loves Mrs. A. Smith (there are two Mrs. Smith fourth grade teachers and his is Mrs. A); Miles loves everything, except food that is good for him and folding socks.    Lance had 60 
 potential athletes come out for his cross country team—which he loved—but does not haveany male runners who can run more than 5 minutes without stopping to walk—which he does not love.

Money…..gotta have it!   Do money worries ever end?  God has been so good to help us financially lately 
         A doctor wrote off a $330 bill for us
        A sister sold us a car at an unbelievable price
        A 2011 un-cashed bonus check showed up in the mail
        I was offered a job to update the Earth Science Sci-ber text for USOE
        Very generous friends who supported the kids’ 4H projects
but the bills keep coming and the account draining never stops….. We’ve reduced our phone bill, we have no car payments or furniture payments, we don’t have cable or satellite, I don’t buy junk food, and we don’t eat at restaurants.    Yet money disappears from our account like ice water on a sizzling sidewalk and we still struggle to make ends meet.   It is a constant concern now and the future looks even more painful.   Chick will be on a mission in a year and soon colleges will want money to educate our children.    Do money worries ever end?

It would help if I did not have to keep buying the girls underwear.   Zorro has eaten three pair in the last two weeks. 
How do I know?   Zorro does not digest underwear; he just eats them.     One pair he puked on my carpet, two pairs partially exited his anus.   The girls swear they do not leave the underwear lying around.  Zorro does not swear about anything…..but he certainly squeals when we have to pull the partially protruding garments the rest of the way out.

Squealing….singing….. Sometimes it seems the same.   At our choir practice last Sunday the director said, “I hear a bass singing the melody.   STOP NOW or I will come find you!”    There are 350 people in the choir.  How did she hear one bass?  

Those of you who can hear music and sing notes have no idea how terrifying singing is to those of us who don’t.    We really cannot hear when we are off key, off pitch, off scale, or whatever term it is that you music literate folks use.   Singing
for us is like being blind and deaf at a busy intersection.   We cannot read the signs that would give us direction and we cannot hear the cars that we sense are going to crash into us. What we can do (and what we do very well) is imagine how all the people who can read the signs and see the cars (i.e. musically adept people) are cringing and wincing as we bumble about, missing signs and stepping in front of cars.   It is terrifying.

Yet we have been called to sing and our prayers about it have confirmed the call.   Lance and Chick are terrified—TERRIFIED—but willing.   This week they had personal voice lessons with Brother Duffin, a talented (and patient and kind) local music teacher.   The experience left Lance’s back soaked in sweat, his knees quivering, and his heart a bit more peaceful.   “You made great progress tonight,” Brother Duffin told them.    There is hope…..!!!!!

There is hope.    I was musing………actually stewing and worrying would be a better words……….about money and to-do lists and children and school as I drove down our street.    As I passed each house I thought about its occupants and realized that they, too, have ingredients to make worry stew; one recently lost a son, another’s son is not living up to his potential, one family is facing the loss of their home and another neighbor battles chronic pain.   All of us struggle…and all of us go forward.  Why?  Because there is hope….and love….and light.  

Our faith in Christ brings us hope for a better tomorrow and confidence in His help with the struggles of today.   We hear His love in the kind words spoken by a music teacher; we feel His love in the kiss of a cool breeze when standing on a sizzling sidewalk, and we see His love in the eyes of trusting students.    His hope and love bring us light; it will be alright!!   

Christ is my favorite teacher.

Life is good.

Teresa


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Lance loses his beard.....
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Going......
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.......going......
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.........still going........
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GONE!!!!
1 Comment

    Author

    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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