Stories coming soon................
 “My mom said it is your birthday today,” Gary said. “She saw it on Facebook.” Gary was a student in my class last year. He hasn’t been in my room for months. “Happy birthday,” he continued and handed me a single stick of gum, inner foil wrapper in place, outer paper covering missing. Oh tender!! Darling, tender, touching, and WONDERFUL! Sweet Gary and several students with similar sentiments “super-sized” my special day. There are probably a zillion (okay, at least 1000!) wonderful places to celebrate one’s birthday but, for me, room 204 at Ogden Preparatory Academy was one of the best. My fifty-first birthday was awesome—my family began it early with a series of thoughtful gifts, friends by the dozens sent me birthday greetings, I had a luscious sushi dinner with Lance and watched some seriously talented actresses (Grace, Tanah, and Sara) perform on stage—and I could tell lots of stories about fabulous friends and family but I am not. Today’s stories center on students. Every class began with a spontaneous (and raucous) rendition of the Happy Birthday song. The students sang it like they really meant it and I really loved it. In each class, when they began to sing, I donned a turkey hat and, as they concluded, I swept the hat off my head and bowed deeply. In third period, as I began to put it on, Andy yelled out, “Don’t put the hat on! You’ll mess up your hair!” How can you not love students like that? Just before the day’s last class Jolene and Melissa showed up with cards they’d made. Each also proffered a gift. Jolene gave me chocolates (Where did she get them? I am completely confident she did not know it was my birthday when she came to school today…) and Melissa’s card had a dollar bill taped inside. My heart melted. Oh, how I love these kids!!! My colleagues were wonderful too. Sam and Talyn (the other 2/3 of our science department) came to my room after school with fresh blueberries, gourmet popcorn, and a live, potted plant………..three of the things on my top five list of Earth’s simple things that bring me pure pleasure. And, perhaps best of all, it was a fun teaching day. I did the liken-a-peanut-butter-sandwich-unto-the-rock-cycle demo which is always fun. What is that, you ask…. (Maybe you did not ask but I am going to describe it anyway…..) Let me tell you…….. “Once upon a time there was a lake situated between two mountain peaks. Wind, rain, ice, and snow weathered the mountain and gravity took the eroded sediment down to the lake bottom where it was compacted and cemented. [Put piece of wheat on the desk top.] What rock type is it?” (sedimentary rock) (Can I have a bite, Mrs Hislop?) “During an El Nino year the mountain side because saturated due to the increased precipitation and a huge mudslide flowed into the lake. [Spread chunky peanut butter onto the bread.] What rock type is it? (sedimentary rock) (Mrs Hislop, can I eat it when you are done?) “Not to long after that, one of the mountains, which happened to be a dormant volcano, erupted and lava flowed down the side of the mountain and into the lake. [Spread jelly on top of the peanut butter.] What rock type is it? (igneous rock) Notice the shiny, almost-glassy appearance of the lava. What does that mean? (It cooled quickly, extrusive igneous) (Will you let me eat it now, Mrs. Hislop?) “Things returned to normal for the next thousand years and the weathering, erosion, compaction, cementation process continued. [Put piece of wheat on top of the jelly.] (I get it when she is done!) “Now, let’s say you are a geologist and take a core sample from the lake bed. Could you read what has happened in the environment here for the past several thousand years? [Slice off an end of the sandwich. Show them the cross section. Ask student to “read the rock record”] (Can I please have that piece?) “Does the process stop here? (no) Exactly. Sediments continue accumulating. [Pile several books on top of the sandwich.] As sediments continue to build up, what do the rocks at the bottom begin to experience? (pressure) “Yes. [Climb on the table and step on the books that are on top of the sandwich. Smile broadly as the students object.] (No, Mrs. Hislop! NO!! Don’t do it. DON’T DO IT!!!! Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!) [Take the books off. Hold up the flatten sandwich.] “This rock has been changed by pressure, maybe even a little heat. What rock type is it now? (metamorphic) [Slice a small section from the sandwich and show how the cross section has changed] “Has the rock been changed? (yes) Are the ingredients in the rock (minerals it is made of) different? (no) So, what determines what type of rock it is? (what happens to it, the process) “Now imagine that tremendous forces within the Earth uplift this section of rock, similar to what happened to the Colorado plateau a few million years ago. [Hold the smashed sandwich up.] What happens to rocks that are exposed to weather on the Earth’s surface? (weathering, erosion, compaction, cementation) “Exactly.” [Crumble the pieces of the smashed sandwich and let them drop onto the desk top. Gently pat the crumbled pieces so that they stick together and then hold the messy conglomerate of sticky sandwich pieces up for the class to see.] “What type of rock is it now?” (sedimentary) “Who would like to eat it now?” OH the fun! FUN, FUN, FUN! We also played the rock cycle game wherein students spend 10 minutes rolling dice and going from place to place in the room as instructed by the directions on the dice: Go to melting, Go to weathering and erosion, Stay put, Go to heat and pressure, etc….. “How do we know when we win?” they ask. And “When is it over?”. The game is great because it parallels the rock cycle in many ways—no beginning and no end, any rock can become another type of rock, there is no specific path through the rock cycle, you could be stuck in one place (buried deep beneath the Earth’s surface or as sand on a seashore) for a long time—and because it gets the kids up and active. FUN, FUN, and more FUN! I also had fun during remediation time the last hour of the day. Ted: “Can I take my notebook home?” Me: “No.” Ted: “I promise to bring it back.” Me: “And what happens if you don’t?” Ted: “You can give me a detention.” Me: “No way.” Ted: “Really. You can give me a detention.” Me: “No way. NO WAY. Detention does not work for you.” Ted: “I have 18 detentions. It would be number 19 for me.” Me: “Exactly. You can beg me. You can bribe me. You can get on your hands and knees and kiss my feet but I will not give you a detention. There is no way I am going to give you a detention. Give up now. It simply is not going to happen. I will not give you a detention.” Another conversation……. [Kenny was drawing instead of working on his notebook. I instructed him to put his drawings away and begin working on his notebook but he chose to continue drawing, busily sketching in pencil and then using an eraser to create the smudged, shaded effect he desired.] Kenny: “Do you have an eraser?” Me: “Yes.” …I move on to another students and several moments pass…. Kenny calls across the room: “Do you have an eraser?” I respond: “Yes” ….more time passes as I help other students…. Kenny, exasperated: “I asked you if you have an eraser….” Me: “And I said yes.” Kenny: “Where is it then?” Me: “You asked if I have one and I do but I am not going to give it to you. You need to be working on your notebook, not drawing.” Oh teaching is fun. FUN! Have I mentioned recently that I love my job? And, today, I really, REALLY love the fact that I will not be returning to my job for over a week. I am thankful for Thanksgiving Break, I am thankful for the family that I eagerly anticipate spending time with over Thanksgiving Break, and I am incredibly thankful to my God who has given me so many things for which to be thankful. Love, Teresa
 Cross section of the metamorphic rock  Weathering, erosion, compaction, and cementation form sedimentary rock from the exposed metamorphic rock. YUM!!!  This week Lance and I celebrated 21 years of marriage. Twenty-one years!
“Our marriage is old enough to legally drink,” Lance commented. A drinking marriage……..the thought intrigued and entertained me. Today I am going to share my thoughts about a drinking marriage, hoping to intrigue and entertain you. [NOTE: As a total teetotaler all my thoughts about the drinking of alcohol in any form are based on observation and supposition; no personal imbibing involved.] As I see it, there are two main reasons for drinking: celebration or inebriation. The goal of celebratory drinking is to recognize and rejoice in a wonderful reality. Graduations, job offers, good friends, and marriages offer reasons for celebratory drinking. The goal of inebriating drinking is to escape a painful reality. Chronic health issues, bad news, betrayal, and marriage offer reasons for inebriety drinking. Notice that marriage is on both lists. Just for fun, I thought I’d compile a list of Twenty-One Reasons for a Drinking Marriage. Here goes:
Marriage to Lance is something worth celebrating. I’d drink to that!!  Life is the stories you can tell. Yes? YES!!!! I’ve many stories to tell this week. There is no commonality to them other than that they are all stories and, I guess, that they all involve me in some way. Don’t search for a theme or a thread. Just enjoy. ***************************************************************************** Marjorie and Company stopped at our home last Thursday. Marjorie, Jason, Lanae, and Aliza continued on to Rexburg to secure housing for Lanae’s sojourn at BYU-I. The rest of the “and Company” (James, Spencer, Jacob, and Clarisse) stayed with me. Friday afternoon, seeking to save the children from the brain damage they sought to inflict on themselves (“Can we watch a show Aunt Teresa?”), I took them to Ogden’s new high adventure park (located on the Ogden River Parkway on Grant St.) On the way there, we passed a sign that said “Grand Opening, 4:30-8:30”. The Park was great but the weather was not. The kids scampered over all the ten geometric configurations—structures so perfect for little boys that they could have been created by Peter Pan—but frigid fingers and spasmodic shivering cut their play time short. Sightings of an inflatable slide, sounds of band music, and hopes of free fun drew into a side street next to the “Grand Opening” sign. The same cool weather that chased us from the park prevented prospective celebrants from enjoying the advertised activities so we had the parking lot almost to ourselves; we were seven of crowd of 15. The lines were short to non-existent and free activities well worth the lines we did not wait in. There were samples from Blue Moon (fabulous—I plan to take Lance there for our anniversary Tuesday), multiple volleys from a candy cannon (not that they needed pocketfuls of candy the day before Halloween), paint-and-take pumpkins (Grace painted a pig), and impressive balloon animals for everyone by “Locally Twisted” (he made me a frog—the guy is incredibly talented; look him up on Facebook). *********************************************************************************************************************************************** The man who lets us use his ram to breed our ewes called me Tuesday. “I have good news and bad news,” he said. I took the bad news first. “Your ewe is not going to be bred this year,” he reported. What good news could follow possibly follow that I wondered…. “She had twins this morning,” he said. The real story in this story is the lambs’ paternity. The only possible father is their mother’s son. *********************************************************************************************************************************************** I read an article in the local newspaper about a World Community Day Celebration that invited all women of faith to attend. The event’s spokesperson said “The goal of this celebration is to unite the faith community in planning and implementing a time of praises and worship that demonstrates Christ’s reconciling love to the community, country, and the world.” Seeking a story, sensing an experience, and perhaps nudged by the Spirit, I felt compelled to attend….so I did….and I am so glad. One of only 15 women there, I was the probably youngest (3+ decades younger than some of them) and the only Mormon. We sang, we prayed, and we read scriptures. It was pretty basic Christian stuff. Mostly I made tentative connections and gleaned information that will enable me to forge stronger connections. One of the last things Elder L. Tom Perry (LDS apostle) said in the Stake Presidents Coordinating Council meeting that I attended last spring (and one of the last things he ever said as an apostle, as he entered the hospital the next day and was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer) was that we need to reach out to Christians of other denominations. “In the U.S.,” he said, “Christianity is declining. We need to band with other Christians to bring people to Christ.” I feel, in my core, a compulsion to connect with these amazing, dedicated, righteous women of other faiths and I believe this may be my opportunity. Though I have no idea where it will lead—I hope for great things—I know will pursue it. ************************************************************************************************************************************************ The anxiety demons are attacking our Grace again; this week was brutal. We decided that having her own space where she can retreat and recompose might be helpful so we created a bedroom for her in the basement. The floor-to-ceiling wall is made of food storage boxes and toy bins. A rug woven in South American (Thanks Annette Argyle!) carpets the cement floor. A bed frame purchased in North Ogden (love ksl.com!) holds up her mattress and a wardrobe ordered from Amazon will hold her clothes once it arrives (due here on Monday). She’s using the dresser and roll top desk that used to be in the sewing room. Two lamps and a window give the room light. The interesting (more or less) story in this story comes with the procurement of the bed frame. On the way to North Ogden to pick it up, the knocking in the truck’s engine became too loud to ignore. I pulled into the driveway of the duplex where I thought I was to pick up the bed frame (it was not the right place) and called my dad. (Even at 50 years old, I call my daddy for help. Something never change.) Dad told me to check the oil. [Apparently diesel engines need oil too—who knew?!?!] It was bone dry. I added a quart that I found lying in the truck’s cab. Did not even register on the dip stick. Oh dear. I flagged down a passer-by, inquired about the location of the nearest place where I could buy diesel oil, and walked 1.5 miles to Auto Zone where I bought 5 quarts of 10W-40 diesel oil. With my 5 quarts I walked back to the truck that was parked in the stranger’s driveway. In my absence, the proprietor of the driveway had returned home, discovered a strange truck parked in his space, and was in the process of calling the police (his phone was in his hand, his fingers pushing numbers) when I arrived, breathless from striding vigorously uphill carrying 5 quarts of oil. ************************************************************************************************************************************************ The Utah State Board of Education voted nearly unanimously (12-2) to recommend that the Legislature eliminate funding for the Electronic High School (EHS). Within a year the decision as to whether or not to quit my (second) job teaching for EHS will not be mine to make. ************************************************************************************************************************************************ A 10 year old boy, visiting our home, randomly announced “My mom is 37.” When I told him that I am 50 he said, “Wow, that is too old to have children.” ???????? *********************************************************************************************************************************************** More tantalizing tidbits of inane information:
Sure love you!! Teresa  Photo of Ogden's High Adventure Park, courtesy of The Salt Project.
 Grapes (not of wrath....)
 Ronnie's response to Sara's invitation. (Darling!)  Ben's response to Tanah's invitation. He hand painted the shoes. (WOW!)  Tanah went to Sadie's as Bellatrix Lestrange and Ben (not pictured) went as Snape.  Am I good enough? Am I good enough to be a starter on the football team? To make the cheerleading squad? To get a scholarship? To get a promotion? Heck, forget the promotion, am I good enough to even get the job? Am I good enough to get married? To raise children? To have my prayers answered? To receive God’s blessings? At some time or another, most of us have wondered “Am I good enough?” and have probably decided, at one time or another, that no, we are not. We have assessed our personal worth, comparing our characteristics and accomplishments to those of others, and determined that we are fundamentally flawed. In our internal opinion, we have failed to reach that “enough” bar, whatever it is. Not good enough. At some time or another, most of us have wondered “Am I good enough?” and have probably decided, at one time or another, that yes, we are. We have assessed our personal worth, comparing our characteristics and accomplishments to those of others and determined that we are acceptable, maybe even exemplary. In our internal opinion, we have reached that “enough” bar, whatever it is. Good enough. Harsh and critical or honest and accurate or inflated and exaggerated, our self-assessment is based on the assumption that there is an “enough”. The question “Am I good enough” presupposes that not being good enough is an option. I propose that it is not. The question “Am I good enough” is based on a false premise. It is not possible to NOT be good enough. We are basically, fundamentally, intrinsically good. Good is good. There is no enough about it. Genesis chapter 1 chronicles (more or less, much less than more) the Creation. God made the seas and saw “that it was good” (vs 10). He made plants and saw “that it was good” (vs. 12). He made the sun and stars (vs 18) and whales and birds (vs 21) and beasts and cows (vs 25) and, in each instance, saw “that it was good.” He made man and woman and “God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good” (vs 31). All of God’s creations are good. Add us to the mix and it becomes “very good”. We are good! VERY GOOD, even!! Paul tells us that we are children of God. (Romans 8:16) We are His children, offspring of a Heavenly King. God is good. And, as His children, so are we. Good. Good is good. Enough is not a question. We may not have the skills necessary to play a starting position on the football team or make the cheerleading squad. We may not have the skills necessary to get certain jobs or to get paid for writing (bummer!) or to make our daughter’s prom dress or to serve in leadership positions but lack of skills does not mean lack of worth. Likewise an abundance of skills and talents does not mean excessive worth. Never question worth. “Am I good enough?” is a flawed question. It is like insisting on dividing by zero. Something cannot be divided by nothing and we, as God’s children, cannot be NOT good enough. We are good. GOOD. Enough said. 
  |
AuthorTeresa Hislop Archives
May 2022
Categories |
RSS Feed
