my first solo in Sacrament meeting today. Bruce accompanied me in "How Great Thou Art." For a young women value project, I decided to take voice lessons from a sister in our ward. As a culminating task for that project, I set up a time for me to sing in Sacrament meeting. It has been fun learning new odd voice techniques, and I have actually really enjoyed taking singing lessons.
Not only do I feel like I can actually sing better, I also feel much more confident in my singing ability and a lot more willing to share it with others. I have always felt terrified to sing by myself in front of others. Small groups and ward choirs are not nearly as intimidating. Don't get me wrong, not that I wasn't a nervous wreck in front of the microphone. It took me the entire first verse to calm down and relax enough to let the things I learned about singing start to take over.
But, I guess how well I sang didn't really matter as much as the spirit that I hopefully brought to the meeting. That is the most important part.
My voice teacher told me afterwards that this is the first solo of many more to come. I told her that I wouldn't go as far to say that. But I did face my fear, and hope to continue improving my voice.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
The woes of teaching
I came home from school yesterday with one thing to say to Bruce.
"Only three more quarters to go - that's only 75 cents; I can do this!"
Depending on the day, this is not that uncommon of a statement in the life of a middle school teacher. A typical day for me however, is generally not that bad. Occasionally I run into some small mishaps and unexpected encounters with students that kind of throws off my grove. However, I can usually deal with the orneriness of a student. They're 12, 13, and 14 and a little bit of verbal immaturity is expected. However, the audacity and complete rudeness of a parent who honestly has no idea what it is like to be a classroom teacher, and doesn't know or appreciate how hard I work and how much I actually do for my students, is appalling.
I sincerely believe that the parents in my school district have a love/hate relationship with me. They either love me and the things that I do, or they hate me. There isn't much in between.
Last year I had a parent who wrote me sincere notes every month on how much she admired what I was doing for her two boys. She made it a point to mention how many good things she thought I was doing for her boys. She mentioned in 6th grade her boys hated reading and dreaded anything to do with language arts. They complained every day on how much they hated English and reading. They used to struggle to get C's in both classes. When they came into my class for both 7th and 8th grade, a transformation took place. My approach to teaching was vastly different than what they were used to. By the end of 1st quarter, both boys had an enthusiasm for language and reading. Both boys began to love reading and became my most creative students. The complaints about language class were never heard at their house. They both earned high A's in my classes. Of course, their mother loved me. This is a rare and miraculous story. But, her notes of encouragement and appreciation offset the bad moments I had that first year. This is the kind of support and position parents should take when their children have good teachers.
Unfortunately this is not always what happens. Yesterday's experience will prove that. This particular parent has already threatened to sue our school district if her son's IEP (individualized education plan) accommodations were not met. Her lawyer sent our principal an official letter at the beginning of the year. We were specially instructed by our superintendent to clearly and accurately document any way that we were meeting his accommodations and document any contact we had with the parent in regards to his IEP. His IEP is specific for language and reading. Go figure! Quite frankly, every teacher in our school knows that this parent does her son's homework. In class, he can't answer a simple question, respond in writing to a prompt relating a personal experience in his life, or tell us how to double space or indent a paragraph on Microsoft Word; yet he can turn in perfectly polished college level written papers. This really strikes a cord with me. If I am going to go out of my way to meet the demands of his IEP, then I expect her to do the same, and let him complete his own work.
Last month I was trying to help this student come up with ideas to add to his groups adventure story. This was a creative writing assignment. Even when I gave him ideas - he still didn't write anything down. Everything I started for him, he ended up deleting. I had been writing down this particular assignment in his planner for an entire week. The night before the assignment was due (approx. 10:00 at night), his mother sent me an email stating how confused this student was about what he was supposed to do, and how irritated she was that I wasn't willing to help him.
I responded that I had tried multiple times to help him, and he wouldn't take my suggestions into consideration. I also told her that I wasn't willing to sit next to him and tell him word for word what to write because that would defeat the purpose of seeing what he is actually capable of. She called me and proceeded to tell me over the phone how offended she was because of my rudeness in my email, and so forth. I apologized to her stating that I wasn't meaning to be rude, I just wanted to let her know of my concerns - that he wasn't doing his part, and I didn't want him to start using his IEP as a crutch. 25 minutes later I thought we had come to some kind of agreement and solved the problem.
A week and a half later, I get a call from my superintendent stating that I needed to call this mother to talk out some issues she brought up in her email to him, and never to email her again because emails can be misinterpreted. If I had an issue with her from now on, I needed to call rather than email. She sent an email to my superintendent saying how rude I am, that I am insensitive, incompetent, ir-respectful and that I don't understand students with IEP's; that I am not willing to help students, and that if I need to repeat myself hundreds of times - so be it! This time, my principal listened through speaker phone to our conversation and kind of kept her under control. I had to apologize again, but tell her that I stood behind my concerns. Once again I thought we had it under control.
This week, this student turned in a paper that was extremely sophisticated and much better written than any 8th grader (even the smartest ones) are capable of putting together. It was especially better than any student with an IEP in language could come up with. Besides that, he used sources of information that I found on the Internet and didn't cite them - that is plagiarism. I pulled the student aside during class time to talk with him about his paper and what my concerns were. I had him circle the words he didn't understand, bracket the words his mom told him. I asked him how long he spent on the paper, where he found his sources, who helped him and how much that person helped him. I wrote down all of his answers to my questions. My concerns were: 1) that he used sources without citing them and that was plagiarism, and 2) that he is getting too much help from home.
I was meaning to call his mother that same day after school, but I was in charge of D-hall, and practice started immediately afterwards. So, I called her Thursday morning. (By the way, my superintendent read the paper too, and agreed with me - that the student didn't write it)
The conversation did not go well. She demanded to know why I would pull a student aside, talk to them about something, doubt their abilities, and make them feel like an idiot. When I told her what the student told me about the paper, she told me that it wasn't true! (In my mind that means that either the son or the mother is lying to me). (The rest of the conversation will be paraphrased and shortened for the sake of confidentiality). She was yelling in the phone so loud, I couldn't put it to my ear and my principal sitting 5 ft away from me could hear everything she was saying. She was irate and yelled that her son was not a liar, the paper wasn't plagiarized, she didn't help him at all. She was infuriated that a teacher would doubt his abilities, and how sick and tired she was of her son having to write these idiotic papers and do these idiotic assignments for language when he already has enough other things to do. She wanted to know how unfair and impartial I was going to be after her son brought in the URL he used for research. She didn't want me calling her for anything about anything with the next assignment because he worked his butt off on it. She accused me of a bunch of nasty things, wouldn't give me a chance to talk or defend myself, and hung up on me when she was finished raving.
I had to call my superintendent and let him know how our conversation went. He tried talking to her about the situation, but she was just as mad at him as she was at me.
Experiences like this leave a sour taste in my mouth about teaching. Sometimes I wonder why I put forth all the effort I do, when I get responses like this. That is why I have to remember the good experiences and try to forget about the bad. (Being screamed at on the phone over being unfair and unjust to a student for 20 minutes (in which she called me by my first name nonetheless) is really hard to forget.)
Who was more rude in this situation?
I guess as another one of my students likes to say "Chin up kid!"
"Only three more quarters to go - that's only 75 cents; I can do this!"
Depending on the day, this is not that uncommon of a statement in the life of a middle school teacher. A typical day for me however, is generally not that bad. Occasionally I run into some small mishaps and unexpected encounters with students that kind of throws off my grove. However, I can usually deal with the orneriness of a student. They're 12, 13, and 14 and a little bit of verbal immaturity is expected. However, the audacity and complete rudeness of a parent who honestly has no idea what it is like to be a classroom teacher, and doesn't know or appreciate how hard I work and how much I actually do for my students, is appalling.
I sincerely believe that the parents in my school district have a love/hate relationship with me. They either love me and the things that I do, or they hate me. There isn't much in between.
Last year I had a parent who wrote me sincere notes every month on how much she admired what I was doing for her two boys. She made it a point to mention how many good things she thought I was doing for her boys. She mentioned in 6th grade her boys hated reading and dreaded anything to do with language arts. They complained every day on how much they hated English and reading. They used to struggle to get C's in both classes. When they came into my class for both 7th and 8th grade, a transformation took place. My approach to teaching was vastly different than what they were used to. By the end of 1st quarter, both boys had an enthusiasm for language and reading. Both boys began to love reading and became my most creative students. The complaints about language class were never heard at their house. They both earned high A's in my classes. Of course, their mother loved me. This is a rare and miraculous story. But, her notes of encouragement and appreciation offset the bad moments I had that first year. This is the kind of support and position parents should take when their children have good teachers.
Unfortunately this is not always what happens. Yesterday's experience will prove that. This particular parent has already threatened to sue our school district if her son's IEP (individualized education plan) accommodations were not met. Her lawyer sent our principal an official letter at the beginning of the year. We were specially instructed by our superintendent to clearly and accurately document any way that we were meeting his accommodations and document any contact we had with the parent in regards to his IEP. His IEP is specific for language and reading. Go figure! Quite frankly, every teacher in our school knows that this parent does her son's homework. In class, he can't answer a simple question, respond in writing to a prompt relating a personal experience in his life, or tell us how to double space or indent a paragraph on Microsoft Word; yet he can turn in perfectly polished college level written papers. This really strikes a cord with me. If I am going to go out of my way to meet the demands of his IEP, then I expect her to do the same, and let him complete his own work.
Last month I was trying to help this student come up with ideas to add to his groups adventure story. This was a creative writing assignment. Even when I gave him ideas - he still didn't write anything down. Everything I started for him, he ended up deleting. I had been writing down this particular assignment in his planner for an entire week. The night before the assignment was due (approx. 10:00 at night), his mother sent me an email stating how confused this student was about what he was supposed to do, and how irritated she was that I wasn't willing to help him.
I responded that I had tried multiple times to help him, and he wouldn't take my suggestions into consideration. I also told her that I wasn't willing to sit next to him and tell him word for word what to write because that would defeat the purpose of seeing what he is actually capable of. She called me and proceeded to tell me over the phone how offended she was because of my rudeness in my email, and so forth. I apologized to her stating that I wasn't meaning to be rude, I just wanted to let her know of my concerns - that he wasn't doing his part, and I didn't want him to start using his IEP as a crutch. 25 minutes later I thought we had come to some kind of agreement and solved the problem.
A week and a half later, I get a call from my superintendent stating that I needed to call this mother to talk out some issues she brought up in her email to him, and never to email her again because emails can be misinterpreted. If I had an issue with her from now on, I needed to call rather than email. She sent an email to my superintendent saying how rude I am, that I am insensitive, incompetent, ir-respectful and that I don't understand students with IEP's; that I am not willing to help students, and that if I need to repeat myself hundreds of times - so be it! This time, my principal listened through speaker phone to our conversation and kind of kept her under control. I had to apologize again, but tell her that I stood behind my concerns. Once again I thought we had it under control.
This week, this student turned in a paper that was extremely sophisticated and much better written than any 8th grader (even the smartest ones) are capable of putting together. It was especially better than any student with an IEP in language could come up with. Besides that, he used sources of information that I found on the Internet and didn't cite them - that is plagiarism. I pulled the student aside during class time to talk with him about his paper and what my concerns were. I had him circle the words he didn't understand, bracket the words his mom told him. I asked him how long he spent on the paper, where he found his sources, who helped him and how much that person helped him. I wrote down all of his answers to my questions. My concerns were: 1) that he used sources without citing them and that was plagiarism, and 2) that he is getting too much help from home.
I was meaning to call his mother that same day after school, but I was in charge of D-hall, and practice started immediately afterwards. So, I called her Thursday morning. (By the way, my superintendent read the paper too, and agreed with me - that the student didn't write it)
The conversation did not go well. She demanded to know why I would pull a student aside, talk to them about something, doubt their abilities, and make them feel like an idiot. When I told her what the student told me about the paper, she told me that it wasn't true! (In my mind that means that either the son or the mother is lying to me). (The rest of the conversation will be paraphrased and shortened for the sake of confidentiality). She was yelling in the phone so loud, I couldn't put it to my ear and my principal sitting 5 ft away from me could hear everything she was saying. She was irate and yelled that her son was not a liar, the paper wasn't plagiarized, she didn't help him at all. She was infuriated that a teacher would doubt his abilities, and how sick and tired she was of her son having to write these idiotic papers and do these idiotic assignments for language when he already has enough other things to do. She wanted to know how unfair and impartial I was going to be after her son brought in the URL he used for research. She didn't want me calling her for anything about anything with the next assignment because he worked his butt off on it. She accused me of a bunch of nasty things, wouldn't give me a chance to talk or defend myself, and hung up on me when she was finished raving.
I had to call my superintendent and let him know how our conversation went. He tried talking to her about the situation, but she was just as mad at him as she was at me.
Experiences like this leave a sour taste in my mouth about teaching. Sometimes I wonder why I put forth all the effort I do, when I get responses like this. That is why I have to remember the good experiences and try to forget about the bad. (Being screamed at on the phone over being unfair and unjust to a student for 20 minutes (in which she called me by my first name nonetheless) is really hard to forget.)
Who was more rude in this situation?
I guess as another one of my students likes to say "Chin up kid!"
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A man of my word!
16 years ago, we had a scout camp behind Francis Peak above Farmington, Utah. The camp was at a glacier made lake. I made the mistake of saying, "if anyone else would swim across the lake, I would swim with them." To my surprise and horror, my friend Mike Gamble said he would do it. All the sudden, the water seemed awfully cold, and the air was just as cold. Keep in mind that this was a glacier made lake in October in the top of the mountain. I decided I didn't want to do it. My dad pulled me aside however, and told me that when I say I will do something, I need to do it. So, I found myself swimming across a glacier made lake in October. I learned two important lessons that day: 1) Swimming in freezing cold water is a fun and exhilarating experience. 2) When I say I will do something, I need to do it.
We didn't take any pictures that day, so here is a picture of Mike (standing in the middle) and me (seated at the table) at a summer campout at Willard Bay.
And me and my friend Todd another time when I said, "I'll do it if you do it."
That means that I have to be careful what I say I will do. For example, a couple months ago, Brittney came home form a Mary Kay party and told me that our good friend Anne Anderson wanted me to host a Mary Kay party for men. I was terrified of the idea of inviting other men to come to a Mary Kay party that I was hosting. Later, Anne talked to me about it and told me that she was willing to invite the men for me. I then thought that wouldn't be too bad. So I agreed to host the party. It was only later that I realized that this was even worse. I had no control over who she would tell that Bruce Richards is hosting a Mary Kay party at his house. Nevertheless I had said I would do it, so I needed to do it. When she later spoke to me about it and didn't mention calling the guest list for me, I was relieved.
Last Wednesday night, we had a MK Mens' night or as I like to call it a Manly Kman (the K is silent) night. We put lotion and cream and fancy soap on our hands that made them feel less dry, itchy, and irritated. We shaved, put on after shave, and washed and moisturized our faces. We also talked about construction and chemistry. We ended the night with Brats and Root beer. It actually wasn't that bad, though I would have preferred going to a lake for a nICE cold swim!
We didn't take any pictures that day, so here is a picture of Mike (standing in the middle) and me (seated at the table) at a summer campout at Willard Bay.
And me and my friend Todd another time when I said, "I'll do it if you do it."
That means that I have to be careful what I say I will do. For example, a couple months ago, Brittney came home form a Mary Kay party and told me that our good friend Anne Anderson wanted me to host a Mary Kay party for men. I was terrified of the idea of inviting other men to come to a Mary Kay party that I was hosting. Later, Anne talked to me about it and told me that she was willing to invite the men for me. I then thought that wouldn't be too bad. So I agreed to host the party. It was only later that I realized that this was even worse. I had no control over who she would tell that Bruce Richards is hosting a Mary Kay party at his house. Nevertheless I had said I would do it, so I needed to do it. When she later spoke to me about it and didn't mention calling the guest list for me, I was relieved.
Last Wednesday night, we had a MK Mens' night or as I like to call it a Manly Kman (the K is silent) night. We put lotion and cream and fancy soap on our hands that made them feel less dry, itchy, and irritated. We shaved, put on after shave, and washed and moisturized our faces. We also talked about construction and chemistry. We ended the night with Brats and Root beer. It actually wasn't that bad, though I would have preferred going to a lake for a nICE cold swim!
Friday, October 16, 2009
Truck for service
To make myself feel better about buying a new truck and a new car in the same year, I reminded myself of how many times Bobby was employed in the service of others and figured that if at least part of our motivation for buying a new truck was to help others, then God would help us make a wise financial decision.
After driving a Dodge Dakota that was cheap, but not very exciting (not to mention Brittney's dad told us not to buy a Dodge), a Ford Ranger that was a good price and made a funny noise, a Chevy Silverado that was too big, and a GMC with an extended cab and more miles than Bobby had, when I drove the GMC Sierra for the first time and it drove smoothly, had a CD player, and I liked the color, I decided I really liked the Sierra. I told Brittney we should go to lunch and talk about it. The Brilliant car salesman at Worden Martin told us to drive the truck to lunch, so of course the whole time we were eating I was imagining taking that truck to lunch every day and by the end of lunch we had named him Bernard. The other trucks were OK to drive, but for some reason I just got excited (and still do) to drive Bernard.
So Tuesday night I got the opportunity to break Bernard in. A single lady well past the prime of her life showed up to church Sunday and told the missionaries she needed help moving. Of course they told her to talk to the Elders' quorum president, which she did. So Tuesday night me and 4 other Elders in our quorum went over to help her move. She didn't have everything packed and ready to go when we got there and it was very obvious that she was a pack rat and not a very good housekeeper. Normal quorum policy would be to say call us when you're packed and we'll come back. However she claimed that if she didn't get moved out that night, then she would go to jail. So I ran to the store and got some garbage bags and we filled them all. She insisted that everything be moved to her new place (except the loaves of moldy bread). It was a nightmare move. I tried not to complain too much, after all the Lord had already blessed me with a very nice truck, but the brethren that were with me not only didn't complain, they were smiling and seemed to be enjoying themselves the whole night long! What great examples to me! I would write their names, but I don't want to risk their reward in heaven by giving them recognition on earth, because I am sure their reward in heaven will be great. "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me". The lady told us a couple of times that she was scared and alone with no one to help. I am grateful to have been able to help and that I had a truck to help with.
After driving a Dodge Dakota that was cheap, but not very exciting (not to mention Brittney's dad told us not to buy a Dodge), a Ford Ranger that was a good price and made a funny noise, a Chevy Silverado that was too big, and a GMC with an extended cab and more miles than Bobby had, when I drove the GMC Sierra for the first time and it drove smoothly, had a CD player, and I liked the color, I decided I really liked the Sierra. I told Brittney we should go to lunch and talk about it. The Brilliant car salesman at Worden Martin told us to drive the truck to lunch, so of course the whole time we were eating I was imagining taking that truck to lunch every day and by the end of lunch we had named him Bernard. The other trucks were OK to drive, but for some reason I just got excited (and still do) to drive Bernard.
So Tuesday night I got the opportunity to break Bernard in. A single lady well past the prime of her life showed up to church Sunday and told the missionaries she needed help moving. Of course they told her to talk to the Elders' quorum president, which she did. So Tuesday night me and 4 other Elders in our quorum went over to help her move. She didn't have everything packed and ready to go when we got there and it was very obvious that she was a pack rat and not a very good housekeeper. Normal quorum policy would be to say call us when you're packed and we'll come back. However she claimed that if she didn't get moved out that night, then she would go to jail. So I ran to the store and got some garbage bags and we filled them all. She insisted that everything be moved to her new place (except the loaves of moldy bread). It was a nightmare move. I tried not to complain too much, after all the Lord had already blessed me with a very nice truck, but the brethren that were with me not only didn't complain, they were smiling and seemed to be enjoying themselves the whole night long! What great examples to me! I would write their names, but I don't want to risk their reward in heaven by giving them recognition on earth, because I am sure their reward in heaven will be great. "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me". The lady told us a couple of times that she was scared and alone with no one to help. I am grateful to have been able to help and that I had a truck to help with.
Monday, October 12, 2009
New Family Addition
I am so forlorn. It is with the deepest sorrow and greatest despair that I write this post. Alas, I will wipe away my tears and although the memory will still be with me, I will hopefully get over it. Somehow!
After hearing a horrendous noise from Beautiful Bobby when we turned, we decided to take him to our old friends Car X.
The prognosis: Bobby's frame is rusted out.
Approximate cost to fix: $1200.00 (only for partial fix)
Approximate value of Bobby: $500 (assuming he is in excellent condition - rust seems to indicate that he is not in excellent condition)
Overall decision: Trade Bobby in (if someone takes him) for something newer that will last longer and be worth the investment.
Now the fact that we had to buy 2 new or "new" cars within 4 months of each other is not what makes me feel sorrow - that's just called bad luck. We knew that our '92 Bobby was old, but we were hoping he would at least last a little longer.
No the reason for my melancholy feelings is that Beautiful Bobby is my baby, my wheels, MY truck! He has been with me through thick and thin. He was the first vehicle I owned - the one in which I learned how to drive. The truck I've been driving for 10 years.
Before I go on to tell you what we replaced Bobby with, I must first make a tribute to Beautiful Bobby. First off, I must always remember his special song:
(To the tune of Beautiful Dreamer)
Beautiful Bobby, Bobby Beigey.
Beautiful Bobby is so good to me.
Unless I run him into a tree
Then Beautiful Bobby will be history
Do not fear now Bobby Beigey
I will not run you into a tree
We will be happy as happy can be
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, oh can't you see
That you are the only man for me
You and me are so complimentary
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, you are the best
You excel far more than the rest
Sorry I ran you into the lake
Oh Beautiful Bobby that was a mistake
Beautiful Bobby, please understand
We must make room for another man
friends with Bruce (and Frank) you must be
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, together we'll fly
You and me, and my other favorite guy
Across the country, we will roam
Oh Beautiful Bobby make Illinois your home.
Side note: (vs. 4 was written after I slid off the road around Thanksgiving time. vs. 5 was written after I met and married Bruce. vs. 6 was written on the long drive to Illinois when we moved.)
Dear Bobby:
I will miss you entirely too much. I will never forget you or the memories we shared so blissfully together. Let me take a moment to reflect on our many adventures together.
Do you remember when: Dad and I named you Bobby. Travis thought you were ugly. I thought you were beautiful, so you have been named that ever since - Beautiful Bobby!
Do you remember when: I drove you for the first time by myself to volleyball practice and you stalled at the busiest stop light. Do you remember how scared I was and how blissful it was when I finally got the hang of driving you.
Do you remember when: I drove all 3 of my siblings and my mom home from a game because my mom's car broke down.
Do you remember when: you helped me move to Logan for college, and your spare tire fell from its carrier underneath and dragged across the freeway? You gave my mom, sister, and I quite the scare.
Do you remember when: we hit that stupid pheasant on the way to work and it took out a section of your grill guard?
Do you remember when: we slid off the road the day after Thanksgiving because we were trying to get back for a USU basketball game. Remember how you had to spend a week in the shop getting your undercarriage fixed, and I had to spend the night at some strangers house in Lakeview, Ut. She had cats everywhere, and I'm allergic!
Do you remember when: we went camping with my roommates in the middle of winter - you sure were brave through all that snow.
Do you remember when: you went snow shoeing with Katie and I and Katie's snow shoes somehow got connected together and she blamed me for tripping her.
Do you remember when: I first took Bruce in you to meet my parents. When we arrived, Travis came out and started kicking you and dad gave you a great big hug before he even hugged me. Then dad proceeded to say to Bruce, "so you're the cradle robbing dragon."
Do you remember when: I finally decided to let Bruce drive you (10 months after we were married)? Do you remember how patient we had to be and how much stress we dealt with while we both taught Bruce how to drive stick shift?
Do you remember when: I let a brother from our ward borrow you, and it took him 15 minutes (and multiple times killing the engine) to get out of the parking lot. Do you remember how nervous I was when I left in a different car to go to the bank, and he still hadn't been able to actually leave the parking space before I got back? I had to give him a quick reminder of how to drive you.
Do you remember when: you took Bruce to the farm every day at 5:00 am and carried all of his samples for him. You were brave to not only rough the snow, but be content enough to stay parked at the farm with all those smelly cows for hours upon hours a day?
Do you remember all those other unfortunate birds that too soon had to meet their maker.
Do you remember all those other people you helped and how much I hoped you wouldn't miss me too much when I started to drive Frank to work (now Buzz)
Do you remember when I sang to you all those times I drove you.
Finally, do you remember when Travis incorrectly decorated you across from the stadium at USU. Or when dad left you that University of Utah crazy fan doll stuck to your mirror for my birthday.
Or... the time when Travis, Otto, dad, Katie, and grandma (yes even grandma of all people) sabotaged you completely. (See pictures below)
Finally, I will always remember your funny quirks:
1) The torn up driver's seat that we tried to duct tape together once. That worked until the temperature got too hot and duct tape melted all over my pants. The towel only worked for a little while.
2) The 2 gigantic cracks in your windshield - it really added personality and was the reasons for getting you Wyoming license plates.
3) How we had to pound the speakers on the door to get them to work
4) How the radio would automatically turn off every time you went over a bump.
5) How the side view mirrors flopped in the wind and never stayed put - even when the wind wasn't blowing.
6) The Bobby "squeak." You used to say goodbye every time I turned off the ignition and exited the vehicle.
7) The cream of the crop - the tail gate that only I had the special powers to open with the magic kick from the inside of the bed.
Those were the good times. Times I will look back on with fondness, happiness, and laughter. Even though we have replaced you, I will never forget the memories we shared. I may enjoy driving the replacement, but he still won't mean as much to me as you.
I must admit that I did have a few tears trickle down my cheek when I pulled up to the dealer to trade him in. I will miss my truck, but remember the memories we shared.
With that said and all condolences in order......
Welcome to the family Bernard!
Side note: I may be sad, but probably not as sad as Bruce's younger sisters who won't be able to hear me sing the Bobby song anymore.
After hearing a horrendous noise from Beautiful Bobby when we turned, we decided to take him to our old friends Car X.
The prognosis: Bobby's frame is rusted out.
Approximate cost to fix: $1200.00 (only for partial fix)
Approximate value of Bobby: $500 (assuming he is in excellent condition - rust seems to indicate that he is not in excellent condition)
Overall decision: Trade Bobby in (if someone takes him) for something newer that will last longer and be worth the investment.
Now the fact that we had to buy 2 new or "new" cars within 4 months of each other is not what makes me feel sorrow - that's just called bad luck. We knew that our '92 Bobby was old, but we were hoping he would at least last a little longer.
No the reason for my melancholy feelings is that Beautiful Bobby is my baby, my wheels, MY truck! He has been with me through thick and thin. He was the first vehicle I owned - the one in which I learned how to drive. The truck I've been driving for 10 years.
Before I go on to tell you what we replaced Bobby with, I must first make a tribute to Beautiful Bobby. First off, I must always remember his special song:
(To the tune of Beautiful Dreamer)
Beautiful Bobby, Bobby Beigey.
Beautiful Bobby is so good to me.
Unless I run him into a tree
Then Beautiful Bobby will be history
Do not fear now Bobby Beigey
I will not run you into a tree
We will be happy as happy can be
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, oh can't you see
That you are the only man for me
You and me are so complimentary
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, you are the best
You excel far more than the rest
Sorry I ran you into the lake
Oh Beautiful Bobby that was a mistake
Beautiful Bobby, please understand
We must make room for another man
friends with Bruce (and Frank) you must be
Oh Beautiful Bobby, oh Bobby Beigey
Beautiful Bobby, together we'll fly
You and me, and my other favorite guy
Across the country, we will roam
Oh Beautiful Bobby make Illinois your home.
Side note: (vs. 4 was written after I slid off the road around Thanksgiving time. vs. 5 was written after I met and married Bruce. vs. 6 was written on the long drive to Illinois when we moved.)
Dear Bobby:
I will miss you entirely too much. I will never forget you or the memories we shared so blissfully together. Let me take a moment to reflect on our many adventures together.
Do you remember when: Dad and I named you Bobby. Travis thought you were ugly. I thought you were beautiful, so you have been named that ever since - Beautiful Bobby!
Do you remember when: I drove you for the first time by myself to volleyball practice and you stalled at the busiest stop light. Do you remember how scared I was and how blissful it was when I finally got the hang of driving you.
Do you remember when: I drove all 3 of my siblings and my mom home from a game because my mom's car broke down.
Do you remember when: you helped me move to Logan for college, and your spare tire fell from its carrier underneath and dragged across the freeway? You gave my mom, sister, and I quite the scare.
Do you remember when: we hit that stupid pheasant on the way to work and it took out a section of your grill guard?
Do you remember when: we slid off the road the day after Thanksgiving because we were trying to get back for a USU basketball game. Remember how you had to spend a week in the shop getting your undercarriage fixed, and I had to spend the night at some strangers house in Lakeview, Ut. She had cats everywhere, and I'm allergic!
Do you remember when: we went camping with my roommates in the middle of winter - you sure were brave through all that snow.
Do you remember when: you went snow shoeing with Katie and I and Katie's snow shoes somehow got connected together and she blamed me for tripping her.
Do you remember when: I first took Bruce in you to meet my parents. When we arrived, Travis came out and started kicking you and dad gave you a great big hug before he even hugged me. Then dad proceeded to say to Bruce, "so you're the cradle robbing dragon."
Do you remember when: I finally decided to let Bruce drive you (10 months after we were married)? Do you remember how patient we had to be and how much stress we dealt with while we both taught Bruce how to drive stick shift?
Do you remember when: I let a brother from our ward borrow you, and it took him 15 minutes (and multiple times killing the engine) to get out of the parking lot. Do you remember how nervous I was when I left in a different car to go to the bank, and he still hadn't been able to actually leave the parking space before I got back? I had to give him a quick reminder of how to drive you.
Do you remember when: you took Bruce to the farm every day at 5:00 am and carried all of his samples for him. You were brave to not only rough the snow, but be content enough to stay parked at the farm with all those smelly cows for hours upon hours a day?
Do you remember all those other unfortunate birds that too soon had to meet their maker.
Do you remember all those other people you helped and how much I hoped you wouldn't miss me too much when I started to drive Frank to work (now Buzz)
Do you remember when I sang to you all those times I drove you.
Finally, do you remember when Travis incorrectly decorated you across from the stadium at USU. Or when dad left you that University of Utah crazy fan doll stuck to your mirror for my birthday.
Or... the time when Travis, Otto, dad, Katie, and grandma (yes even grandma of all people) sabotaged you completely. (See pictures below)
Finally, I will always remember your funny quirks:
1) The torn up driver's seat that we tried to duct tape together once. That worked until the temperature got too hot and duct tape melted all over my pants. The towel only worked for a little while.
2) The 2 gigantic cracks in your windshield - it really added personality and was the reasons for getting you Wyoming license plates.
3) How we had to pound the speakers on the door to get them to work
4) How the radio would automatically turn off every time you went over a bump.
5) How the side view mirrors flopped in the wind and never stayed put - even when the wind wasn't blowing.
6) The Bobby "squeak." You used to say goodbye every time I turned off the ignition and exited the vehicle.
7) The cream of the crop - the tail gate that only I had the special powers to open with the magic kick from the inside of the bed.
Those were the good times. Times I will look back on with fondness, happiness, and laughter. Even though we have replaced you, I will never forget the memories we shared. I may enjoy driving the replacement, but he still won't mean as much to me as you.
I must admit that I did have a few tears trickle down my cheek when I pulled up to the dealer to trade him in. I will miss my truck, but remember the memories we shared.
With that said and all condolences in order......
Welcome to the family Bernard!
Side note: I may be sad, but probably not as sad as Bruce's younger sisters who won't be able to hear me sing the Bobby song anymore.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
A Miracle has happened!
Today I prayed that Bruce would get out of his Elder's Quorum presidency meeting early and come straight home. And... he did! The meeting ended 10 minutes early, and he was home by 5. Bruce was surpised himself. Not to mention how relieved I was since I was locked outside of our house in the cold. BRR!
Key Note Speaker
With the recent completion of my Master's degree, I may have accidently happened upon a new career. What career? That of a public speaker. Here's how it happened.
Last year I designed a career unit for my 8th grade students. A parent of one of the male students in my class works as an administrative assistant for a professor in the Financial and Consumer Science department at the University of Illinois. This parent talked to her boss about my unit. Her boss was so impressed that she wanted me to present this unit at financial and consumer education conference put on for high school teachers across the state of Illinois.
The phone conversation went like this.
Dr. Cline: Tell me a little about this career simulation you do.
Brittney: (I proceeded to tell him - I won't go into the gruesome details)
Dr. Cline: Are you afraid of speaking in front of people?
Brittney: I am a classroom teacher, so no...
Dr. Cline: What if it was a group of teachers?
BrittneY: Well that doesn't really bother me much either?
Dr Cline: What if it is a room full of about 60 high school teachers from across the state?
Brittney: You got me there, I can't do it! :) (Just kidding)
He proceded to ask me if I would be willing to present my unit at this conference. The teachers at this conference are looking for new ideas to use and teach in thier classes. So I agreed!
One week before the conference (conference was September 25), the schedule came out. As I glanced through it I noticed this:
10:00-10:45 - Building your career: A Life skills presentation
Key note speaker: Brittney Richards, Prairieview Ogden Jr. High School.
Although I agreed to speak at this conference, I didn't agree to be the key note speaker.
As I started to introduce myself to the audience, I had a difficult time getting their attention. I was the only jr high teacher, and the only Language Arts and Reading teacher. All other participants were high school business and economics teachers. What could I say that would be important? When I started I wanted to stop and yell at the audience to make sure that I had their attention. However, after I started I soon had them captivated. They were impressed with my presentation, and awed by how much I was able to get my 8th grade students to do. I had many recommendations and invitiations to speak at other conferences later in the year. One participant, who recently got her type 75 (administrative) certificate, even offered to hire me at her school. I wasn't expecting to be such a popular speaker. Afterwards, I was told that I was the best speaker of the entire event. That is quite the compliment. So I guess I lived up to the key note speaker status.
Last year I designed a career unit for my 8th grade students. A parent of one of the male students in my class works as an administrative assistant for a professor in the Financial and Consumer Science department at the University of Illinois. This parent talked to her boss about my unit. Her boss was so impressed that she wanted me to present this unit at financial and consumer education conference put on for high school teachers across the state of Illinois.
The phone conversation went like this.
Dr. Cline: Tell me a little about this career simulation you do.
Brittney: (I proceeded to tell him - I won't go into the gruesome details)
Dr. Cline: Are you afraid of speaking in front of people?
Brittney: I am a classroom teacher, so no...
Dr. Cline: What if it was a group of teachers?
BrittneY: Well that doesn't really bother me much either?
Dr Cline: What if it is a room full of about 60 high school teachers from across the state?
Brittney: You got me there, I can't do it! :) (Just kidding)
He proceded to ask me if I would be willing to present my unit at this conference. The teachers at this conference are looking for new ideas to use and teach in thier classes. So I agreed!
One week before the conference (conference was September 25), the schedule came out. As I glanced through it I noticed this:
10:00-10:45 - Building your career: A Life skills presentation
Key note speaker: Brittney Richards, Prairieview Ogden Jr. High School.
Although I agreed to speak at this conference, I didn't agree to be the key note speaker.
As I started to introduce myself to the audience, I had a difficult time getting their attention. I was the only jr high teacher, and the only Language Arts and Reading teacher. All other participants were high school business and economics teachers. What could I say that would be important? When I started I wanted to stop and yell at the audience to make sure that I had their attention. However, after I started I soon had them captivated. They were impressed with my presentation, and awed by how much I was able to get my 8th grade students to do. I had many recommendations and invitiations to speak at other conferences later in the year. One participant, who recently got her type 75 (administrative) certificate, even offered to hire me at her school. I wasn't expecting to be such a popular speaker. Afterwards, I was told that I was the best speaker of the entire event. That is quite the compliment. So I guess I lived up to the key note speaker status.
106 garden tomatoes
...And that was all she wrote...
Ok... so we did get a handful of beans and 2 small zucchinni's, but other than that our garden wasn't very prosperous this year. Part of that I'm sure is the amount of effort that one actually puts into it. I thought I would have more time this summer than last. In fact, the exact opposite of that happened. I planted late because I was conducting the school play, and didn't weed as much as I should have because of my other summer festivities. The bottom line is I'm disappointed with myself for not putting more time into it to get more profit. I am happy that we got a lot of tomaotes, but sad that we didn't get much else.
The other bummer...I don't really know how to can, and don't have the kitchen space to learn or store the supplies. Our tomatoes came in at different times, so I probably wouldn't have been able to can much anyway. We ate a lot, we gave a lot away, and may or may not do one next year. :)
Ok... so we did get a handful of beans and 2 small zucchinni's, but other than that our garden wasn't very prosperous this year. Part of that I'm sure is the amount of effort that one actually puts into it. I thought I would have more time this summer than last. In fact, the exact opposite of that happened. I planted late because I was conducting the school play, and didn't weed as much as I should have because of my other summer festivities. The bottom line is I'm disappointed with myself for not putting more time into it to get more profit. I am happy that we got a lot of tomaotes, but sad that we didn't get much else.
The other bummer...I don't really know how to can, and don't have the kitchen space to learn or store the supplies. Our tomatoes came in at different times, so I probably wouldn't have been able to can much anyway. We ate a lot, we gave a lot away, and may or may not do one next year. :)
Summer Accomplishments
Due to the weather lately, many people will wonder why I took so long to write about my summer accomplishments since summer seems like it was so long ago. Summer actually wasn't that long ago, and it took me a couple of weeks after summer ended to actually finish up my summer projects. So...what did I accomplish this summer?
1) Taught 90 hours worth of summer school - +24 additional hours of driving time.
2) Completed 4 graduate level courses at the University of Illinois.
3) Helped plan and participate in a wonderful week of stake girls camp. (Still haven't blogged about that)
4) Wrote some new curriculum for this school year.
5) Traveled to another country (already blogged about that)
6) Keeping Bruce on track with his schooling and disertation.
7) Completed a Master's Degree in Curriculum and Instruction at the University of Illinois.
8) Completed my Master's Degree with a 4.0 GPA! Yeah!
When I think about it, I didn't have much of a summer. With the exception of our 1 1/2 week long trip to Montreal (I still did my homework and attended "class" online), I didn't have much of a summer at all. Now we are back in school, have almost completed a entire quarter (2 weeks away), and played 8 basketball games. I am ready for a break.
So far our 7th grade basketball team is 8-0 - we haven't lost yet. We have had some pretty tight games, but we have always come out on top.
Our 8th grade team isn't too far behind with a 6-2 record. I have still been able to maintain my perfect record in not getting a technical foul. I can't exactly say that for the "other" coach Richards who got a technical in the 8th grade game last week.
I have been proud of our teams so far this year. It is nice to be the coach of a group of girls who not only care about being better basketball playeres, but who listen and do what we tell them to do.
Teaching school this year so far has been better than the past 2 years. Each year brings different problems and issues, but hopefully the good trend will continue and I won't be able to find very many bad things about this year.
The new principal we got 1 week after school started has turned out to be quite nice. He still is the science teacher so he knows the school, knows the kids, and knows what has gone on at our school for the past couple of years. This has been a big help.
Now if only I can get a few more hours of sleep per night, I would be full of enough energy to fulfill my responsibilities and be happy about it! So I usually am happy, just not excited to crawl out of bed in the morning when I get home from school (work) after 10.
1) Taught 90 hours worth of summer school - +24 additional hours of driving time.
2) Completed 4 graduate level courses at the University of Illinois.
3) Helped plan and participate in a wonderful week of stake girls camp. (Still haven't blogged about that)
4) Wrote some new curriculum for this school year.
5) Traveled to another country (already blogged about that)
6) Keeping Bruce on track with his schooling and disertation.
7) Completed a Master's Degree in Curriculum and Instruction at the University of Illinois.
8) Completed my Master's Degree with a 4.0 GPA! Yeah!
When I think about it, I didn't have much of a summer. With the exception of our 1 1/2 week long trip to Montreal (I still did my homework and attended "class" online), I didn't have much of a summer at all. Now we are back in school, have almost completed a entire quarter (2 weeks away), and played 8 basketball games. I am ready for a break.
So far our 7th grade basketball team is 8-0 - we haven't lost yet. We have had some pretty tight games, but we have always come out on top.
Our 8th grade team isn't too far behind with a 6-2 record. I have still been able to maintain my perfect record in not getting a technical foul. I can't exactly say that for the "other" coach Richards who got a technical in the 8th grade game last week.
I have been proud of our teams so far this year. It is nice to be the coach of a group of girls who not only care about being better basketball playeres, but who listen and do what we tell them to do.
Teaching school this year so far has been better than the past 2 years. Each year brings different problems and issues, but hopefully the good trend will continue and I won't be able to find very many bad things about this year.
The new principal we got 1 week after school started has turned out to be quite nice. He still is the science teacher so he knows the school, knows the kids, and knows what has gone on at our school for the past couple of years. This has been a big help.
Now if only I can get a few more hours of sleep per night, I would be full of enough energy to fulfill my responsibilities and be happy about it! So I usually am happy, just not excited to crawl out of bed in the morning when I get home from school (work) after 10.
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