Book Review: "Hands Up!"

From a young age, I wanted to teach in the inner city.  My dream was realized a few years ago, and I was given the privilege of teaching in inner city Dallas for three years.

At the end of last school year, I left the school.  The reasons for my departure are a long, convoluted story and not relevant to this post.  Suffice to say, I miss teaching those students every single day.  Teaching in the inner city was the most fulfilling job I have ever held.

This book, "Hands Up!", showed up on my Pinterest in the last few months.  I was (and am) in the throes of missing my old job and former students, so, on a whim, I went out to Amazon and ordered a copy.  A week later, it was in my mailbox.

I am fitful when it comes to reading books.  I love reading, but it takes time and energy, neither of which I possess in excess during the school year.  I have a pile of about 18 books that I am currently in the middle of reading.  I try to read a little every night; it happens once every few nights, and rarely do I pick up the same book twice in a row.

It was different with this book.  Perhaps it was because of the subject matter and the pangs of separation I was feeling in regards to my former students, but I found myself picking up this book several times a week.  Sometimes, I was picking it up not only right before bedtime, but on an afternoon on the weekend.

The setting is inner city London.  I did not realize that when I ordered it, so when I first realized this, after reading the cover, I thought perhaps the experience would be very different from mine.  I was wrong.  I could relate to almost everything.  Yes, the education diction was different than our American terms (i.e. "year 10's" instead of "juniors" or "11th grade"), but the experiences?  They were almost identical.

I laughed my way through this book because I could relate.  Other times, I read with a lump in my throat because it made me think of THAT student or THAT experience.  The author, a teacher with "Teach First!", the British version of our "Teach for America," gives a detailed account of her school year, semester by semester (called "terms" in England).  The exhaustion, the feeling of being at your wits end, the lack of resources - it's all there.  Most of all, the portraits of the students she taught - they are all familiar.  The hard-working student, despite all odds.  The disinterested student - because they don't see how this applies to real life.  The disruptive student - because for them, school is simply a social event.  All these students are present.

If you are a teacher, especially a teacher with any experience in the inner city or a title one school, I recommend this book.  If you are a human with a heart to reach out to children of the inner city, I recommend this book to you, too.  You will laugh and you will cry.  More than that, you will recognize the children in it's pages, and it will strengthen you to tackle anew the task or dream you have at hand.

Book Review: "Keeping Faith"

Three years ago, one of my brothers joined the Marine Reserves.  It was a move that surprised everyone in my large, close-knit family of eight siblings, and a move that no one understood or wanted him to take.  As a matter of fact, several of us tried fervently to talk him out of the making the commitment.  

When he started boot camp in San Diego, six months later, all of us were resigned to his choice and supportive of him.  As a family, we support each other and this meant overwhelming my brother with letters during his weeks in boot camp.  He struggled to write everyone back, and when we received his letters, we struggled to wrap our brains around the experience he was going through.  Even more than that, when we saw him at graduation, we struggled to understand the things that had suddenly changed about him and the fact that he wouldn't hardly smile.

During the months following, when my brother was attending the rest of his training for his MOS, my co-teacher, a former Marine himself, recommended this book to me.  Not only did he recommend it to me, he also brought up his copy for me to borrow.  

As a busy teacher, I stuck it on the pile of a dozen books I wanted to read in the near future.  It sat there for over two years.  I duly moved it from house to house (I think there were three moves during that time), and I even moved it to the top of the stack a few times.  

When I finished reading "The Good German" a few weeks ago, I looked at my stack of books, trying to decide what aroused my interest in reading.  I pulled this book out of the stack.  I wasn't sure I wanted to read it yet, but I figured I'd give it a shot, as nothing else was looking interesting.

It's a step by step narrative, in the first person, from both the perspective of the father and the son, of the son's experience in boot camp.  Like my brother, John Schaeffer joined the Marines out of the blue and against the will of his family.  Also like my family, John's dad (and the rest of the family) rallied around him and supported him once he had joined and departed for boot camp.

Reading "Keeping Faith" enlightened me.  It helped me understand what my brother went through, why it was hard for him to find time to write letters, why he told us not to send packages or write on the outside of his envelopes, why he was different when we saw him again at Family Day and graduation.  As a loyal big sister, I had tried my best to understand.  While I cannot say I fully understand now, I understand a little bit more of what my brother went through in boot camp and the reasons for his change in personality.

This book touched my heart, mostly because the relationship between my brother and I is a sore spot right now.  It speaks volumes to the loyalty and love of family, even when they disagree over a life path one of their number has chosen to take.

I would recommend this book to several people.  First, to those who have family in the Marines.  It helps you understand, a little bit more, what they struggle so hard to put into words when they tell you the experience is hard but the best thing they have ever chosen to do.  Second, I would recommend this book to young people who are considering the Marines.  It seems to give you a small snapshot of what you are contemplating doing in joining the Marines.  Third, I would recommend this book to anyone who needs a reminder of how important the unconditional love of family is, whether you agree with the choice your family member made or not. 

"Keeping Faith" isn't really about keeping faith; it's about keeping the loving bonds strong in a family.

An Embarrassing Moment

I am clumsy by nature, so I have no shortage of potential embarrassing moments; however, the flip side of this is that I have a personality that doesn't get embarrassed by much.  When I look back, there aren't a lot of moments that stick out to me as embarrassing.  As I contemplated this topic, the first moment that came to mind was an event that happened only last year.

My boyfriend and I had just been dating for a month or two.  He had bought a house about six months prior to me, and I was currently looking to buy a house.  Our discussions often centered around home ownership and home decorating.  He told me about a store he thought I would like and find helpful in decorating a new home - At Home.

We were out on a date one evening, and we were near the store.  We decided to go in and have a look.  We were wandering around, exploring the garden aisles, when I picked up a huge, two or three feet long, set of wind chimes.  I had always wanted wind chimes for my back patio and being this close to home ownership, I was starting to look for those items I'd always wanted and knew I'd put to use very soon.

Everything was fine until I went to place the wind chimes back on the hook.  The hook was overly full of those huge wind chimes, and even though I tried to hook the set I had securely, it fell off and hit the floor with a loud clang as soon as I released my hold on it.

I'm pretty sure this is the only time I've ever been embarrassed in the nearly year and a half that he and I have been dating.  My face turned red, I scrambled to pick up the chimes and replace them, and I looked around fully expecting a sales associate to appear to investigate the ear-splitting noise.  I stuttered to explain it to my boyfriend, who I liked very much, but didn't know very well yet.

He wasn't embarrassed at all; in fact, we still laugh about this event to this day.  Surprisingly enough, despite my embarrassing moment, I even still shop at At Home.

The Best Trip of My Life

I mentioned it before - the best trip of my life.  I have a whole blog about this trip.  It's been almost three years since this trip ended, and I still talk about it monthly, if not weekly.

It started as a distant, foggy dream.  It started when I read books like "Travels with Charley" by John Steinbeck and "A Walk Across America" by Peter Jenkins.  These authors explored America - it's cities, it's small towns, and most of all, it's people.  Their writing made me hungry to do the same.

First, I wanted it to be a walk across America.  I wanted the leisurely pace to really explore and soak it all in.  Then, I realized that I would never have the time to walk all the places I wanted to explore in America.  Plus, it might not be too safe to walk across America as a young single woman.  My next plan was to bike across America.  I got farther on this plan.  I did the research on the kind of bike, the saddle bags, the packing list, how to train, where to stay, even routes.  That was my plan: one day I would bike across America until that day in 2011.

I had graduated with my major in English in 2008.  I had immediately enrolled in an alternative teacher certification program at about the time Texas began making budget cuts in the department of education.  As an alternative certification teacher looking for an internship, I was at the bottom of the totem pole.  Meaning, I was the last person they looked to hire.  Everyone else on the playing field would get hired before me.

I spent every year from 2008 to 2011 looking for a teaching job.  By the time the summer of 2011 rolled around, I was about to give up on my dream and I knew I needed a change of pace.  I decided since life was handing me lemons, I would make lemonade out of them.  I looked at my bucket list and saw the trip across America.  I knew that was the lemonade I would make out of these lemons!

I spent six months working two jobs.  One paycheck went to my living expenses; the other paycheck went into the savings account for the trip.  I set the leaving date for March 2012.

There was one change, though.  I knew I didn't have the luxury of enough time and money to bike across the U.S.  I knew it would take too long.  Instead I sold my truck and bought an aging, but still in good condition, Toyota Corolla.  My mechanic brother looked it over, I made a few repairs, and she was ready to go.

My apartment lease expired on February 29 of that year, and I resigned from both of my jobs a day or two before that.  I put everything in storage, and then I loaded the absolute necessities in the little Corolla and took off.

I traveled until the middle of October - nearly eight months.  I made a big loop up through the midwest and then turned east until I hit Florida and drove across the south back home to Texas.  I took a week break at my parents to earn a little more money before taking off for the second loop - up through  the midwest again, then turning west.

I spent nights in my car and at campgrounds.  I spent too many nights to count at homes of generous friends and family, who not only put me up for the night, but fed me and often took me sightseeing.  In the entire eight months, I only spent one night at a hotel - a rainy night in Lancaster county, when I was too tired to try to fight the rain camping and I had a coupon for a discounted hotel room.

Those are the logistics, but I can hear you asking, "Why was it the best trip of your life?"

Perhaps it was the freedom and independence.  Every day was a new adventure without a lot of structure.  I could stop at Gettysburg National Park and tour it for five hours if I wanted.  I didn't have a lot of time constraints.  I could stop at a random roadside seafood restaurant in Maine to enjoy crab cakes if I wanted.  I could stay up late sharing heart-to-heart talks with old friends.

Perhaps it was all the time to think on my own.  I kept a blog, which helped me record a lot of my personal growth during that time.  I spent many hours on the road or on my own sightseeing and camping.  There was a lot of time to think during that time - time I used to think about my future, where I was going, what my goals were going to be when I returned home, if I wanted to change my career direction, etc.

I think it was all of the above.  I know I came home with a renewed vision, purpose, and goals.  I know I came home feeling refreshed and ready for the fray of life once again.  I know I miss those days in the little Toyota Corolla - just me and the car and the road.  I look back on them very fondly.  This is how I know it was the best trip of my life.

Book Review: "The Good German"

A few years back, I went to the Scholastic warehouse sale with a teacher friend.  It is a well-known fact that teachers cannot resist books - multiply that times about ten and you have me, an English teacher, who cannot stay away from books, much less resist them.  Anyway, we went to this sale looking for bargains.  We ended up stuffing a box as full as we could get it and buying the whole thing for $25.  It was a good deal.  One of the books I stuffed in that box was "The Good German" by Joseph Kanon.

For the last two and a half years, this book has lay on my pile of books to be read.  Somehow, this pile seems to grow over time, rather than diminish.  I think the pile has at least a dozen books on it right now.  Every break and every summer I tell myself that I will finally get to the bottom of the pile.  Every so often during the school year, when I feel like I am losing my sanity from working sixty hour weeks, I tell myself I'm going to start frequenting a coffee shop and reading once a week again.  Then, I will get to the bottom of the pile of books.

The pile still remains, but I am on summer break and on a renewed resolve to read, both for personal enjoyment and professional development.  Almost two weeks ago, I was packing for a weekend trip, and I decided to take some reading material.  I perused the pile and pulled out "The Good German."  I stuffed it in my bag, along with a book for professional development, and figured neither one would be touched, as I expected to be busy the whole trip.  

I got to the hotel room and had some unexpected time to read.  I didn't feel like thinking about school, so I pulled out the novel.  It is a historical novel, set in the aftermath of D-Day in Berlin, and told from the perspective of an American journalist.  It has all of the requirements for today's novels: mystery, murder, love.  It has the power to make you keep turning the pages.  Those are all the prerequisites for a "good" novel these days.

As I read it, my mind had subconsciously checked off these things and was wondering if this novel had anything more to offer than any other bestseller on today's bookstore shelves.  While I'm not a renowned book critic, I will tell you two reasons I thoroughly enjoyed this book, even if it remains a book that I will only read through once.

I picked up the book because it was a historical novel.  I still like it for being a historical novel.  What's more, I find it to be an unusual historical novel in the fact that it is set in a time period and place that I have never heard of another novel being set in.  I have read an abundance of novels set during the war in Germany, in the concentration camps, all over Europe, but after the war?  I have heard the history of how terrible it was for the German people, but even history books are sparse on this point.  This book treats a time period and place that I have not seen other authors treat, perhaps because it is a difficult, uncomfortable time to discuss.  The author isn't always favorable in the picture he paints of any group: the Germans, the Russians, the English, or the Americans.  He reveals flaws in all the groups, and he helps you feel a minute amount of the pain the German people were probably undergoing at that time.

I suppose the purpose of a historical novel is to help you, the reader, walk in the shoes of the people of history for a little while.  Kanon does just that.  Mostly, you are walking in the shoes of an American journalist as he uncovers a scandal, but you also get short walks in the lives of German citizens after the war - both Jewish and non-Jewish.

The other thing I liked about the book is the perspective from which it is told.  As I mentioned before, the author reveals the failings of all nationalities involved in Berlin.  Although it is told from an American's standpoint, this American journalist comes to realize that even the Americans are not faultless in their dealings.  The author doesn't paint anyone, not even the Americans, as perfect heroes.  He reveals the humanity and the corruption in everyone.  I believe this is why he created the main character and narrator as a journalist because the nature of a journalist is to investigate and to discover things that don't meet the eye.  

You could discuss many themes for this book, but the one I walked away with is "everything is not always as it seems."  The author teaches this lesson in multiple places in the book, helping the reader to see that stereotypes for any nationality, any people, in any time or place, are never always true.

Movie Review: "For a Few Dollars More"

Back in the 1960's, when movie acting actually required talent and screenwriters knew how to write plots that involved more than the predictable plot line, a man named Sierra Leone produced a trio of movies starring Clint Eastwood.  Known as "spaghetti westerns," these movies are far from predictable - they will keep you on the edge of your seat, and your mind racing trying to unravel the plot and predict an ending.

The scoop?  Spaghetti westerns means that these movies don't follow the typical plot - they have no discernible exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution.  Just like spaghetti, everything is all interconnected and interwoven, but there is no real ending.

My boyfriend got me started on these several months ago.  We started with "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly," then moved to "A Fistful of Dollars," and two days ago watched "For a Few Dollars More."  Out of the three, "For a Few Dollars More" has the most predictable plot.

It's a western movie set in beautiful, desolate country.  Clint Eastwood, with his cigar constantly hanging out of his mouth, calmly serves justice, as a bounty killer, against all odds.  I'm sure you can go to any movie review site to read all about this movie in the most technical and academic terms, so I'm just going to tell you what I like about the movie.

First off, the setting, as I mentioned before, is breath-taking.  It's desolate country, yes.  Country that I would not want to be stranded in, but country that takes your breath away.  It builds the suspense in the movie, because surviving in that country is an art and sometimes you aren't sure your favorite character is going to survive.

Secondly, I love the plot - or rather, the lack thereof.  I greatly dislike predictable.  My favorite books and movies are all devoid of your standard plot - they contain non-linear plot, no plot at all, or they have a plot line that is hard to discern.  I don't like movies, books, and songs that I can put my brain on autopilot through; I like having to think below the surface and to have to dig deeper to find the meaning.  While all three of Sierra Leone's movies make the cut for me in this area, I will say that "For a Few Dollars More" was my least favorite in this regard, because it actually has a very discernible plot line, once you reach the end of the movie.  It also actually ends like you think it will.  The other two movies don't end predictably, and I like them better for that quality.

Thirdly, you  cannot beat the acting of Clint Eastwood.  His calm manner, always unperturbed even when facing certain death, won me over quickly.  He isn't a man of many words, his facial expression rarely changes, but you always know his brain is one ahead of his enemy and that his character will come out alive.

All that to say, if you are going to watch one of Sierra Leone's movies, I recommend starting with "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly."  If you like that one, you will like the other two.  They are not for the faint of heart, though.  If you like the easy fare of movies that we are so used to these days, the tangled plot lines and long movies (all over two hours) of Sierra Leone might not be your thing.

My Favorite Quote

My favorite quote?  It would be too hard to choose just one - even before Pinterest existed, I had a journal in which I wrote quotes and poems that I collected from various places.  I have always been a lover of quotes - probably because I am a lover of words.  What I love about quotes is that they take a few well chosen words to say something that most people couldn't say in a paragraph or an essay.

Quotes illustrate the power of diction.

That's your English lesson for the day, but I'm done now.  On to my favorite quotes!  (I managed to narrow it down to four!)

This quote reminds me of one I heard (and recorded in my journal) when I was just a twelve year old: "Burn out; don't rust out."  I have always done whatever I am doing with my whole heart, and I have always hated boredom.  From a young age, I have always found new tasks and goals to accomplish and new things to learn, just so I wouldn't be bored.

My life has never been boring, that is for sure!  I will continue to pack my schedule too full until the rest of my life - of that I am pretty sure!

This leads me to the next quote...

You aren't very old before you realize that everyone around you has certain expectations that they expect you to fulfill.  Perhaps it is academic or career accomplishments that are expected of you; I was expected to follow a certain gender stereotype that was narrow and restrictive.

I didn't fit the stereotype when I was young, but as I grew into my late teens and early adulthood, I cared enough about what others thought to try to fit into this stereotype.  I succeeded, somewhat, but inside, I was longing to be somewhere else, do something else, really accomplish what my heart was dreaming.

In my early 20's, I decided to follow my heart, and I've never looked back.  This is why this has to be one of my very favorite sayings.  It takes all kinds of kinds to make this world go around, so don't ever let societal expectations tame you!

Another favorite quote is this one - the reminder that not everything is as it seems.  By nature I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, but even I have had my moments where I was incredibly harsh or judgmental of someone, only to learn later that, had I known their circumstances and story, I would have had only compassion.

There are only a few times I regret being kind - and that was when I was taken advantage of - but I always regret being unkind.  I need this reminder on a regular basis, when the tragedies of our world have worn out my optimism.

Now, for the last quote...

Along the same lines as the quote above, but a word for myself.  In my young adult years, I did everything I could to "save" - help or rescue from themselves - several teens.  Suffice to say, the results were not what I wanted and I struggled with burn out and depression.  Sometime during these years, I discovered this quote, and with it came a flood of relief.

I cannot change anyone's mind or anyone's choices; however, I can love them.  Sometimes love is all the encouragement they need to make a healthier choice for their life and their future.  This has freed me, while at the same time, constantly reminding me of what Mother Theresa said...

Oops.  That was five quotes.  Even so, you should be proud of me - I have hundreds of quotes between my journals and my Pinterest, so only burdening you with five is quite an accomplishment on my side!  Quotes can be succinct reminders of profound truths we need to remember and a reminder of the power of words!

My Favorite Childhood Book

Asking me to choose my ONE favorite childhood book is like asking a kid in a candy store to choose one piece of candy; it cannot be done!  Perhaps even then, in those young years, I should have seen my English teacher future, for I have had a love of books for as long as I can remember.

I don't remember having a favorite preschool book that was read to me.  I know I was read to - a lot - but I don't recall liking one specific book.  When I think of my favorite books, two specific series pop up in my memory - one from elementary school and one from middle school.

I had not been reading for very long when someone introduced me to the "Amelia Bedelia" series.  Amelia Bedelia is a maid who takes everything literally, so when the family she is working for says "Let's hit the road," Amelia Bedelia goes outside, finds a stick, and literally hits the road.  I loved reading about her adventures in camping, cleaning, and babysitting.  They were guaranteed to make me laugh, and perhaps the Amelia Bedelia series is what first gave me my love for double or underlying meanings.  To this day, I will still choose a book, movie, or song that has a hidden meaning over one that is straightforward and easy to understand.

I think my favorite Amelia Bedelia book has to be about the time she babysits.  She takes all the instructions very literally, making a humorous experience for the reader.

I still own the Amelia Bedelia series; I bought them again recently to help my students understand idioms and double-meanings.  The simple words and funny illustrations never cease to make me laugh when I open those books.

I have to tell you about my second favorite series of books as well; these are the "Little House" books by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  Although I have had an active imagination from childhood, I have always been a realist, as well; therefore, books that are based on true stories, and especially historical fiction, appeal to me the most.

My dad began reading the "Little House" series out loud to the family when I was in middle school.  (We had a nightly family read aloud for many years when we were children.)  I fell in love with Laura and her unconventional ways.  I fell in love with the stories - the pioneer life, the prairie towns, and Laura's eventual beau and husband, Almanzo.  Reading these books was like going back in time; I remember times when I reread them on my own and the scenes were so real in my mind that I was surprised to look up and see the warm security of my family's home around me when I finished an intense chapter about surviving a blizzard on the prairie.

I loved Laura Ingalls Wilder so much that I begged my mother for a dress like hers - complete with a "hoop skirt."  My dear, talented grandmother made me the dress, and I wore it for Halloween one year.  Then, when I was twelve, my dad and I took a trip together and he let me choose the destination.  I chose to go visit the replica cabin of the "Little House in the Big Woods" outside of Pepin, Wisconsin.

Because of Laura Ingalls Wilder, I fell in love with historical fiction.  To this day, I still choose to read historical fiction over any other type of fiction.

If I had to choose a favorite out of her book series it would be hard.  When I was younger, my hands down favorite was always "Farmer Boy."  It detailed Almanzo's growing up years on a farm in northern New York state.  While I was jealous of Laura's pioneer experiences, I was just as jealous of Almanzo's farm experiences and somehow, his upbringing was more secure than all the dangerous adventures Laura's family was always having.  Perhaps this is why I liked "Farmer Boy" the most.  As I became a teen, my favorite book became "These Happy Golden Years."  It details the courtship between Laura and Almanzo, and of course this appealed to my teenage girl heart.

I think I still judge a lot of books based on my first loves in the world of books...  Does it have a deeper meaning?  Does it provide humor?  Does it educate me historically?

Who knew that your favorite childhood books could shape your thinking that much?

My Hidden Talent

Perhaps calling it a talent is going a little too far, but then again, I know plenty of people who would sigh, "You are talented;  I wish I could do that," after hearing me play.

I play the piano.

Perhaps I should say "did."  The piano is still here, in my new home, in a prominent place, but I don't often sit down and stroke its keys.  Mostly because I don't have time, and mostly because to really get as good as I want to be, I would actually have to spend time practicing on a regular basis.  Right now, my daily routines are taken by training for a triathlon, staying on a diet, and keeping up with this blog.  Maybe someday soon I can work piano practice into my routine.

It all started before I was born.  My parents heard about an old upright piano a church was getting rid of, but it was not just any old upright - it had a full size harp in it, so it was the very tall upright style.  My dad wanted his children to learn to play the piano, so they brought it home to their garage and refinished the entire piano.

It's a beautiful piano.  It's dark mahogany with elaborate scroll work all over the front.  My parents flawlessly redid the veneer that was peeling off.  The white keys are slightly yellowed now - after so many years and so many fingers, but they are still as beautiful as ever.

That piano adorned our living room for many years.  On occasion we children were allowed to "play" it, even though we didn't have the slightest idea of what we were doing.  Finally, when I was ten years old, my dad asked me if I wanted to learn how to play the piano.

My answer was an enthusiastic "yes."

Every week, he would meet me at the piano, listen to me play the two or three songs he had assigned me to master the week before, go over the lesson in the Bastien Piano Primer, and watch me struggle through the new songs a time or two.  I learned the notes of the piano in no time, but I struggled with timing at first.  I will never forget how my dad made me get off the piano bench and do different rhythm exercises - bobbing my head, stomping my feet, etc - until I could get the beat even.

It only took a year or two until he claimed he had taught me "all he knew," so I took off on my own.  My parents willingly ordered me more piano lesson books, and I read the directions for lessons and tried to master the songs myself.  Sometimes I succeeded; sometimes I failed.  I always had fun.  I learned to play four part hymns and that was what I spent most of the rest of my teen and early adult years doing - playing four part hymns.  I learned a few arrangements, but I never learned to improvise and I never learned to play classical music, two musical goals I still have for myself to this day.

One day, when I was in my late teens, graduating high school, and my dad was trying to help me figure out what path I wanted to take after high school, we wrote down everything I enjoyed doing.  Of course, playing the piano was on there.  When I took the things I liked doing and moved them into a second column - things I could see myself working a job in - I didn't move piano playing.  My dad asked why.  I told him that it was because piano was something that was just for me.

I have never enjoyed playing for other people and probably never will.  I'm glad I didn't have all the recitals that normally go along with learning to play the piano.  I play just to hear to beauty of music and to destress.  My mom used to joke that she always knew when I was stressed as a teenager - I would bang louder on the poor old piano.  It's probably true.

Even today, when I have a need to vent or relax, I will pull out the bench and play one of the arrangements I know by heart.  My fingers stumble and I need a lot of practice, but for those few moments, it brings peace to my heart to play.

One day, I will practice again regularly.  One day, I will learn how to improvise.  (I already have all the books to teach me how.)  One day, I will learn to play classical music.  Until then, playing the piano will be my hidden talent.  Perhaps, even when I play again, it will still be my hidden talent.

My Proudest Moment

By nature, I am a goal setter and a goal achiever.  If I achieve a particularly monumental or large goal, I am usually proud of myself.  While achieving the goal of landing my dream job a few years ago was definitely a proud moment, I would have to say my proudest moment thus far in my life would be when I purchased my own house.

You see, I didn't really ever expect to own a house.  Girls aren't supposed to own houses, right?  Girls are supposed to get married and their husband buys the house, or if the girl has a job, they buy the house together.  But a girl buy a house all on her own?

Sometime in my early 20's, when I was still single with no prospects, I started mulling over this idea of owning my own house.  I was paying rent on a tiny apartment, all by myself, and I couldn't believe how much was going monthly into that black hole called "rent."  I started realizing that I could have a house payment for only a little more than I was paying in rent, and then, my money would actually be going somewhere!

Of course, there were a few small problems...

First, I wasn't sure where I wanted to buy a home.  The first thought was that I wanted to own some property and renovate whatever house was on that property.  I always have wanted to (and still want to) renovate an old farmhouse.  There is something I've loved about old farmhouses since my dad and I took a trip through his home state of Iowa when I was twelve years old.

Secondly, I didn't have any money for a down payment.  I'm talking about literally nothing.

Thirdly, I had no credit.  I had never gone into debt to purchase anything, so as a result, I had no credit.

In my early 20's, I had a bigger and more immediate problem of getting my career of the ground.  When I finally accomplished that the year I was thirty, I decided it was time to make home ownership a reality.

First, I had to start saving for the down payment.  With a regular salary, this was accomplished fairly quickly.  I was used to living on about $10k a year, so my expenses were low and my savings grew fast.

Secondly, I had to decide on a location.  I liked where I was teaching, and I knew that even if I didn't stay at that school, I would stay in that general area.  I decided on a place slightly southwest of my current school, but when I began looking at houses, I decided it was too far south of Dallas, so at my boyfriend's recommendation, I settled on a place that was just west of the school and closer to DFW.

Thirdly, I had to build credit.  This probably should have come first or second, but somehow it was an afterthought.  I was actually all ready to buy my house when I realized I didn't have enough credit (read: NONE) to qualify for a loan.  I got a credit card that required a security deposit and started using it and paying it off as fast as I could.  It took about six months for a credit score to come through.

That is when I started the whole process...getting pre-approved for a loan, finding a realtor, searching online sites for house listings, and being willing to make a decision at the snap of a finger (the housing market was very hot).

After another six months, a contract that was turned down, and most of my summer, I found the house.

You see, being the half country girl that I am, the location had to be just perfect and/or the house had to appeal to my particular eccentric style of being fascinated with older houses.  The first house I put a contract on had an amazing lot, huge backyard, and an old-fashioned style.  The second house, the house that became my house, had the perfect location - next to a lake in a somewhat secluded development.  As we left the house, I told the realtor, "Call and put a contract on it."

It was a nerve-wracking few days as the homeowners decided between me and a few other bidders.  Finally, I got the word - the owners had decided on me!  For the next month, it was paperwork, and faxes, and signatures, and more signatures.  Then, there was that one final day when I went to the title office, signed the final paperwork, and was handed a set of keys.  The house was mine!

It didn't sink in until the next day, though, when I drove down to begin cleaning the house with my mother and sister in preparation for moving.  My key unlocked the front door, and I walked around barefoot, exploring every nook and cranny and dreaming of what it would look like furnished.

It's been a journey of almost a year since then.  Slowly, little-by-little, I am getting areas furnished and decorated.  The latest accomplishment was to complete the front hall/entryway.  Home ownership requires time and money, but I am still loving home ownership!

My Bucket List

That's my bucket list.  In all it's glory.

You see, I've always been one to dream big.  Since I was in my late teens, I've had lists scrawled in the back of my journals of all the things I wanted to accomplish.  So one day, when I was desperately trying to make it on my own - single, paying for my first apartment and all it's bills without a roommate, and making less than $1,000 a month - I typed out this list on my laptop.

It was dreaming big, that's for sure.  By the time I paid my bills each month and bought the cheapest, most frugal groceries I could find, I didn't have any extra in my checking account.  If I was hit with unexpected maintenance on my truck, I knew I would founder.

Having goals helped, though.  That first year, despite constantly being broke, I managed to check off two small things on the list.  My sister took me to the drive-in theater in her college town, and when I was coming back from a road trip with friends, I took a train back.  (It was actually cheaper than any other mode of transportation for that destination!)

The list was on my refrigerator in that tiny apartment for a year before I set off on the first real adventure on my bucket list - numbers three and four - which read:

• "Travel across the United States.  Stop and visit all my friends as I go across the States."
• "Visit the East Coast and see the historical places: Plymouth Rock, Philadelphia, Williamsburg, Washington, D.C., etc."

I closed up the little apartment and let go of the lease, packed my clothes, toiletries, and a few good books in my car, put the rest of my stuff in storage, and set off across the United States for eight months.  That trip has a whole blog to itself, and it will also show up later in this thirty day challenge as the best trip of my life.

When I got back from that trip, I finally got my dream job as an inner city high school English teacher, and I got to check one more thing off my list.  While that enabled me to have a regular salary that paid a little more, it also took up more of my time.  Therefore, I've still only managed to accomplish one or two things on my list each year.

I've told you about the first things I accomplished on that list; let me tell you about the last thing I accomplished on that list and about the current things I am working towards.

I actually accomplished two things, almost at the same time, last summer.  The first was to take my mother to Australia.  Going to Australia is not cheap, but it was worth it!  We had two wonderful weeks of mother/daughter time while road-tripping up and down part of the east coast of Australia and exploring the Great Barrier Reef and Sydney.  Right before we left on that trip, I had put an offer on a house.  I came back to finish paperwork and close on the house two weeks later.  I will detail more on the house in my blog post on my proudest moment, but buying my own house is the very latest thing I have accomplished on that bucket list.

Currently?  Well, currently I am working on training for a sprint triathalon which is one of the steps towards my long-term goal of competing in an Ironman.  The other two goals that I plan to work on soon is a book to be published and starting up TaeKwonDo classes again.  

There are people who say bucket lists are cliche, and I am actually inclined to agree.  If you know me personally, you know I will refuse to do something because it is popular.  I will argue, though, on the bucket list.  First, I don't believe it was popular when I first made mine.  If it was, I did not know it was.  Secondly, it does help keep me focused.  I am a person who thrives on challenges and goals, so whenever I get bored, I go back to the bucket list and choose a new goal to work towards.  Every year, I've managed to accomplish one or two things on that list.

The list also charts my journey as a person.  You can see there are items crossed off and items added on.  As I've grown and matured, my values and goals change.  The list reflects this.  

Maybe one day, when I am a gray old lady, I can show off a tattered list with a date and a check mark beside each item.  But maybe (and this is what I'd prefer), I'll be a gray haired lady going sky-diving and driving an old John Deere tractor.

A Letter to My Grandad

(Written April 4, 2015)

Dear Grandad,

I wasn't ready for you to go; I thought we had more time together.  I wanted you to see the house - the beautiful house and the dream realized - for which you had given me the money for a down payment.  I wanted you to meet Chad.  I knew you two would like each other, and I wanted to hear you say that he was a good guy and that you were proud of me for finding a good man.

I wanted to make you proud.  Every grandparent has a different place in a grandchild's life; every grandparent pushes a grandchild in a different area.  You pushed me to look at the big picture and to work towards and take those big steps: college, career, financial responsibility, etc.

I think that's why I can't stop crying every time I let myself think of you these past two weeks.  From that first moment when I saw you lying in that hospital bed, barely coherent, I knew then that you would never see my house, never meet Chad, never tell me again how proud you were of me for those things.  Most of all, I knew that I would never again have one of those analytical, thoughtful conversations with you - those conversations that were your trademark.

I miss you already, because it feels like you left unexpectedly, before I was ready.  I had reconciled myself to Nana never getting to see me accomplish certain things, but you, you whose opinion in my accomplishments mattered, you left too soon.  You left before I got to show you certain accomplishments of which I knew you'd be proud, accomplishments of which I wanted you to be proud.

But I know you were at peace with the timing of your leaving.  You knew you were going to miss out on those things, and you came to peace with it.  That is where I will have to draw my peace from, and I hope, that when you're looking down from Heaven, I make you proud with the rest of the accomplishments in my life.

I love you!
Your first granddaughter

Thirty Day Blogging Challenge

Every year I have this plan, and every year I fail to carry it through.

The plan consists of this: As a high school English teacher, with a bachelor's degree in English, I believe the best thing a teacher can do besides teach is to actually use the skill they teach as a hobby or side job.  So the plan is always to be a writer as well as a teacher.

Don't get me wrong.  I write.  A lot.  However, most of it is not writing I like to make public - it is in journals or other non-public places.  I want writing that serves as a good model for my students and encourages them to write in their spare time; therefore, I am starting this blog.

The first part of this blog is the thirty day blogging challenge.  I found a lot of lists for thirty day challenges, so I printed them and then chose a few off each list to create my own list, which I have typed below.  I will not go through these topics in order, but rather when I feel inspired on each topic, I will write about it that day.

1. Be the magic... (In what ways can I be the magic in your life and the lives of others?)
2. I am thankful for...
3. My bucket list
4. My favorite quote and why
5. Things I love
6. My dream job
7. My career goals
8. My personal goals
9. Things to do when I have time to myself
10.Things I am proud of about my personality
11. My zodiac sign and how it fits my personality
12. A moment I felt the most satisfied with my life
13. Somewhere I would like to move or visit and why
14. My views on mainstream music
15. My views on the importance of education
16. My favorite TV show and why
17. Ten of my likes and dislikes
18. Review of my current favorite song and the band/musician
19. Review of the last book I read
20. If the world were to end tomorrow, what would I do with my remaining time on earth, hour by hour?
21. A letter to a friend or relative who has passed away
22. Would I rather date someone plain with an amazing personality or someone beautiful with a plain personality?  Why?
23. My proudest moment
24. The best trip of my life
25.  My favorite childhood book
26. A review of the last movie I watched
27. What makes me happy?
28. What makes me sad?
29. My hidden talent
30. An embarrassing moment

I hope you join me on my journey; more than that, I hope this inspires you to write, whether in a public or private venue!