Everyday Life

Categories Family & Friends

Sunday Snapshot: Hissy Fits

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Last week, my family rented a couple of cabins at one of our local state parks and enjoyed a nice little retreat.

My sister prepared some fantastic food for us. For Sunday dinner, we had steak, vegetable packets, watermelon and s’mores.

My dad cut one bowl-full of watermelon. I ate one wedge and then went back for more–only to find that the bowl was empty.

That’s definitely provocation for a hissy-fit. I mentioned the idea out loud–and then, egged on by my siblings, went on to throw a full-fledged hissy fit. I laid down on the deck, pounded my feet and fists, and yelled “I want more watermelon.”

Rebekah throwing a hissy fit

John enjoyed the performance so much that he begged for a repeat–so that he could join in.

John throwing a hissy fit

Another sibling desperately attempted to take snapshots–but we were a bit wild, so the photos are understandably of poor-quality.

Ah–I love my family!

Categories Everyday Life

In Which Rebekah Says Much (Little of Note)

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I got home rather late last night and decided to take apart my planner. It’s started to get a bit ratty, and I’m a young professional and feel I should try for a more polished look. Problem is, I love my planner and I hate spending money. I’ve been considering making my own planner using the old shell–last night I just made it official by taking a utility knife to the planner so I can figure out how to make my own.

So far, I’ve got…

Cardboard planner

The finished product is intended to be covered in black vinyl, with lots of interior pockets, room for pens and pencils, etc. There’ll be a large flap that closes on the front with a frog closure (aren’t frogs just the funnest things?)

Now that I’m officially working and unofficially residing in two towns, I’ve decided I need to get the blogs I follow into a format that allows me to easily read them on the road (when I’m away from my desktop). So I’ve been resubscribing to all my blogs on GoogleReader.

Not that I expect to do much blog reading on the road. I’m gonna be working 20 hours out of the 43 I’ll be there. Hopefully I can get 7 hours of sleep each night, which will leave me with 9 extra hours to eat, go to Bible study, dress each morning, pack my stuff up, grade a few papers for my other job, etc. etc.

I’m also considering going back down to one post a day. Two is a lot to keep up with while working–especially with a commute. On the other hand, I want to keep up a mix of “thinking” and “fun” posts–and have a hard time doing that when I’m just writing one post a day. Grrr!!!

Why have I never noticed all the agains in Matthew 13?

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field…” (v. 44)

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls…” (v. 45)

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a dragnet that was cast into the sea…” (v. 47)

This suggests that in each of these parables, Jesus was RESTATING His original point. Which is curious since His original point was explaining the parable of the tares to His disciples.

I’m looking into this further…

In other news…

On Tuesday I asked whether anyone could guess which two Dewey Decimal categories account for over half of my nonfiction reading.

A total of 3 people guessed–and came up with a total of 4 categories amongst them: 200, 300, 700, and 800.

The answer?

300 and 600

Nobody guessed 600–but the 600s contain some of my favorite types of books (although not always ones that I blog about.) I have read 173 books from the 600s, including books about medicine, nutrition, time management, cooking, sewing (for the home), and parenting.

My second highest category was the 300s with 103 books read. These books included books on politics, marriage and family issues, money management, and books of etiquette and traditions (I read Emily Post for fun. Honest.)

Coming in third was the oft-guessed(?) 200s (religion) with 53 books. I only started reading items from this section in earnest this year–along with my goal of exercising my mind towards the things of God. Furthermore, I tend to take longer with these books since I really want to fully explore the issues the books raise. These are, however, the books I’m most likely to blog about–so it makes sense that my readers would guess them!

As for 700 and 800? They’re fourth and fifth (go figure!)

So y’all are pretty good guessers. Give yourselves a pat on the back you who participated.

And the rest of you? I really like comments. Please comment, even if it’s not much. (Although you’re certainly welcome to take a page from the spammers’ book–“This is the most fascinating treatment of this topic that I have ever heard. I have read a lot about ____, but no one has ever explained it as well as you do.”)

Categories Education

My students think I’m crazy

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As many of you know, I am a teaching assistant for a couple of “Scientific Principles of Food Preparation” laboratories. For our first lab session, we discuss and experiment with sensory analysis of food–how our senses affect our perception of flavor.

I was lecturing as usual, and as usual, I was starting to get excited about the subject material.

“I was just reading a book about the senses called See What I’m Saying. It’s a fantastic book, by the way,” I told them. “And in this book, the author describes a psychological experiment in which…”

As my eyes swept over my class of 25 students, I realized that I had lost them.

They think I’m crazy.

How can I find descriptions of psychological experiments interesting? How can I enjoy the science behind cooking? How can I get so excited about food and nutrition and families and…

Few of them understand the thirst for knowledge, the relentless desire to know why and how and how to change things. They are in school because they don’t know what else to do. They have few driving passions.

They don’t understand me.

My students have generally been polite and respectful–but our interactions make clear that the majority don’t get it.

They do what it takes to get a grade from that crazy-enthusiastic, crazy-tough TA–but they don’t understand why I am the way I am.

But in every class, there are a few students who agree that I’m crazy, but make it their mission to dig a bit deeper. They listen intently, not just to get a grade, but to figure out why I find this so exciting. They start to ask questions, start to search out answers, start to find it exciting too.

This is why I love teaching.

Lecturing dead-eyed classrooms that couldn’t care less can be frustrating. Hearing half a dozen lame excuses as to why homework can’t be handed in on time can be draining. Dealing with students who can’t understand why they don’t automatically get As in my class can be exasperating.

Being considered crazy starts to get old.

But then one student looks a little deeper, discovers crazy can be good, and starts to go crazy for knowledge herself.

This is why I teach.

‘Cause the world needs more crazies.

Categories Family & Friends

Sunday Snapshot: Nursery

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Just a few months ago, we were regularly numbering a dozen children in our church nursery. Most of them were either rambunctious, clingy, or potty training (or all three!), requiring at least three nursery workers to keep order.

But with a spate of later summer birthdays graduating a bunch of newly minted three-year-olds to children’s church, we have gone back down to two workers a week.

Last week, my fellow-worker wasn’t around, and as only one child had come in so far, I told my sister-in-law (the nursery coordinator) that I’d be fine. I’d page her if I needed help.

I ended up with one more child for a total of two.

Cadence played happily by herself.

Cadence smiling

Jarell fell asleep in my arms and remained there for the bulk of the morning service.

Jarell sleeping

It was delicious!

Categories Family & Friends

Auto Loyalists?

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To me, the most memorable vehicle my family has owned was a white Ford Econoline van. It was a twelve passenger “extended”–which meant that it was the size of a 15 passenger vehicle but with only enough seats for 12 passengers.

Nebraska student drivers have an option of taking driver’s ed or of logging 50 hours of supervised driving in a variety of settings prior to getting their driver’s license. I logged most of my hours in our Ford van, driving it to church and back and back and forth from Lincoln to my grandparents’ farm in northeastern Nebraska.

So I’ve always sort of identified my parents as Ford folk.

Then, one day my brother and I got to talking. He said, “You know, the folks are pretty much GM people, aren’t they?”

I was aghast. Seriously?

Timothy began to count up the cars.

Currently, they own a Chevy Suburban, a Buick, and a Chevy Lumina.

Dad's Chevy SuburbanMom's Buick
The School Car Chevy Lumina

Before that, they owned several Chevy Celebrity wagons (was it two or three?). Mom’s previous car, “The Silver Mullet”, was another GM granny car. And the precursor to the white Ford van was a red conversion van, undoubtedly GM as well. Those are the only cars Timothy remembers–and I wasn’t paying attention to makes and models of their forerunners.

Mom enlightened me in a later conversation. Turns out the second most memorable car of my childhood was also a Ford. It was a two ton all-steel Green Station wagon–a hulking behemoth we named the “Zucchini Car”. I think that might have been the car we ran into a light pole with–the light pole came down but the car didn’t have a scratch. The “Zucchini car” finally met its end when we were driving to church and saw smoke rising from the hood. We rolled into a gas station and piled out of the car while Dad made tracks inside for a fire extinguisher. We ended up walking the rest of the way to church.

So my folks really weren’t (and aren’t) brand loyal at all. They bought what was economically feasible, what could fit our family. Given the tiny tendencies of foreign cars, it’s not unsurprising that they have generally owned American-made vehicles.

I’m not sure if any of us kids have developed any brand loyalties–but it’s clear that we’ve tended towards foreign cars.

My first car was a Chevy, but I’ve since owned a Honda and a Subaru.

Now, of the four kids who own cars, only one is domestic:

Anna's Ford EscortMy Subaru LegacyDaniel's Toyota CamryJohn's Toyota Corolla

I guess we’re not exactly what you could call Auto Loyalists.

Categories Everyday Life

Being a blood donor

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This last weekend, Davene mentioned her visit to donate blood and how relaxing she found it–and it got me to reminiscing about my own blood donation stories.

Davene said:

“Despite the tourniquet around my arm and the needle sticking in my vein, I thoroughly enjoyed my time and–for once–didn’t regret the fact that I’m a slow bleeder. I had a book to keep me company, of course (The Autobiography of George Muller, that my dear blogging friend, Margie, sent me), and was easily transported from the mall corridor where I reclined as my blood dripped out to Bristol, England, in the days of Muller. “

It reminded me of the time when I wasn’t a slow bleeder–at all.

I generally had a hard time donating because my iron borders on low, so I had taken to dropping by the downtown blood bank location whenever I was on city campus, just so they could check.

And finally, after a half dozen or so visits in which the pin-prick revealed that my iron was too low, I was able to donate.

I settled in and they tapped my arm–and bright red blood quickly gushed into the bag. Rather than getting venous blood, the phlebotomist had managed to tap an arteriole. I donated in less than a minute.

That didn’t bother me at all, since I was always incredibly busy as a college student. I had a packed schedule, between classes and working and volunteering and extracurriculars. I was always on the go and generally somewhat sleep-deprived. So getting my donation done quickly was a major plus.

What I didn’t count on was how concerned the blood bank staff would be about my rapid donation. They worried that my blood pressure would drop too low or that I might go into shock or something–so they insisted that I stay on the chair, sipping soda for 30 minutes.

And they wouldn’t let me close my eyes.

So there I was, exhausted from running, my mind racing through the many things I still had to do that day, bound to a chair with nothing to do but without the option of napping.

It was excruciating–and the Dr. Phil on the television was definitely not making it any better!

I’m glad Davene found her donation relaxing. My donations have not always been.

Now that I can no longer donate blood (thanks to the discovery that I have very low blood volume without removing some!), I think upon donation with mixed feelings.

It’s a relief to not have to worry about scheduling donations into my already busy life–especially since I never knew if I’d actually be able to donate or not. At the same time, it’s a bummer that I can’t donate. I know how valuable blood donors are, and how necessary. My blood type is generally in high demand, and the bank is always looking for more. I just wish I could still donate.

What are your favorite blood donation stories? Don’t donate? Why not? (You should really consider it–It doesn’t take much and it provides an invaluable resource to the ill and wounded.)

Categories Family & Friends

Sunday Snapshot: Nesting

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I always enjoy it when a parent offers me a chance to spend time with their young ones–and last Saturday, I got to spend a day with Jonah and Livi.

I returned from taking Livi to the bathroom to find that Jonah had made himself a “nest” with all the living room pillows.

Jonah among pillows

Livi wanted to join in the fun so she grabbed the sole remaining pillow and tried her best to make a nest as well.

Livi with pillow

Categories Everyday Life

I’m a fan…

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…of saying “I’m a fan” or “I’m not a fan”.

Evidence?

According to this very blog, I’m a fan of…

And, by the same source, I’m not a fan of…

Yeah, I’m pretty much a fangirl. Or not.

Categories Family & Friends

When I get a big-girl job

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There’s a little game I play on occasion–I call it “when I get a big-girl job”.

You see, right now I work on a contract basis, with a semester-by-semester contract for the teaching assistantship. I have low job security and need to be prepared for an extended job search each time my contract expires. Because of this, any “extra” money that I earn gets funneled immediately into savings.

Which means that there are a number of things I want but don’t really need that I’ve put off purchasing for now.

But on the days that I allow myself to play “when I get a big-girl job”, I dream of buying a road bike and contact lenses.

The road bike is for me.

I love cycling and commute wherever I can on my bicycle. I’m ridiculously slow, in part because I’m not in that great of shape and in part because my bicycle is not that great.

I bought it seven years ago off a rack at Walmart. It’s a standard $100 mountain bike, heavyish and clunky. It’s great for a kid exploring–not so great for an adult who wants to commute.

My bicycle

Then there was the accident. Only months after purchasing my bike, I had an unfortunate encounter with a fire hydrant that mangled the front post. Somehow, between my dad and my grandpa, we managed to scrounge up a new front post and get it installed. The new post is older and heavier, and unfortunately, the brake mount is different–and doesn’t exactly work correctly.

I’ve tried replacing the brakes, remounting them, working whatever hacks I can. But I’ve been unsuccessful at truly making the brakes work properly. So the mount swings back and forth and occasionally, I discover that I’m working double time trying to ride with the brake pad applied to one side of a wheel.

So I’d really like a new bike. A road bike, light and well-designed.

The second item isn’t so much for me as it is for my dad.

When it became clear that my vision needed correction, I chose glasses over contacts for a number of reasons. First, glasses are the economically savvy choice. They last until you need a new prescription. Second, glasses are the economically savvy choice. :-) Even if you use contacts, you should have a pair of glasses for emergencies anyway. Third, I have perennial environmental allergies. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to introduce little pieces of plastic into my already regularly red and itchy eyes.

Now, though, I’m eager to give contacts a try.

Why?

Because my glasses bug my dad to pieces. They’re perpetually crooked.

At first, I regularly dropped by the eye center where I bought my glasses to have the professionals there straighten my frames. It frustrated me that by the time I returned home, they were sitting crooked again.

I took to straightening them myself–but it never seemed to last for long.

Finally, I figured out what the problem was.

My nose is crooked.

That’s not new information–but I hadn’t connected the two. You see, my nose’s crookedness begins very close to the bridge of my nose and continues all the way down. Which means that straight glasses, if placed all the way at the bridge, will sit straight. But if those glasses slip even a quarter of an inch down my nose, they will begin to tilt precariously.

Crooked glasses
The glasses that once sat parallel to my eyebrows now lie at odd angles, giving me a rather mad professor look.

It doesn’t bother me too much–but it drives my dad crazy.

Enough that I’m ready to try contacts “when I get a big-girl job”.