Friday, September 10, 2010
Book Review: Outlive Your Life by Max Lucado
http://thebulgingbookbag.blogspot.com/2010/09/book-review-outlive-your-life-by-max.html
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Stories of an Unconventional Childhood, Week Fourteen
Over at Mommy's Piggy Tales, there's a cool project going on about family history. There is a challenge to blog for 15 weeks about our growing up years, with a different time period covered each week. Spitfire talked me into joining in because she's hoping for some wild stories from my childhood.
My senior year started off differently, but that was nothing compared to the rest of the year. First of all, after seven years in band and one in orchestra, I wasn't signed up for any form of instrumental music. I had a major falling-out with my band director and decided I didn't need the aggravation. Meanwhile, my best friend talked me into trying out for the choir. I did and was accepted. I was on the yearbook staff and was elected senior class historian. The year was shaping up.
Meanwhile, some of my friends from the year before drifted away and others got much closer. My best friend and I were inseparable. If you saw one of us, the other was probably nearby. We didn't see this as a problem until we found out that a mutual friend of ours wanted to become more than a friend. The only problem is, he knew he really liked one of us, but since we were always together and always playing off each other, he couldn't figure out which one it was.
Finally, he picked one and took the plunge. He asked out my best friend. I think it took only one or two dates for him to figure out he had picked the wrong one. They parted ways as friends. He waited a couple weeks and asked me out, but I was afraid of hurting my friend's feelings so I turned him down.
But we started talking more and he started calling me. When I got sick and was quarantined to see if I had rheumatic fever (I didn't), he sneaked in a visit and talked to me through the window. People at school were beginning to notice that he walked me to classes and carried my books. Our circle of friends, which had extended to 5 of us (my best friend, the guy, his best friend, the best friend's girlfriend, and me), went everywhere and hung out together. Soon he and I realized that we were much more than just friends.
Then Valentine's Day drew near. Student council was selling carnations as a fundraiser and delivering them to the classes with a doily attached and whatever message you wanted. The carnations started showing up about 3rd period. By lunch I had about 10. Then he presented me with a gift. He had tracked down 3 albums by a band I had mentioned liking, that most people had never heard of. I was overwhelmed. When he invited me on a date doubling with his best friend and his girl, I accepted immediately.
The logistics of the date got a little crazy when the restaurant they had planned to take us to turned out to be closed, but the guys came up with plan B and we had a nice meal anyway. His friend was driving, so we were sitting in the back seat. We talked and talked, until he got really quiet, took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, "I don't suppose you'd marry me?"
Join me next Thursday for the exciting conclusion!
My senior year started off differently, but that was nothing compared to the rest of the year. First of all, after seven years in band and one in orchestra, I wasn't signed up for any form of instrumental music. I had a major falling-out with my band director and decided I didn't need the aggravation. Meanwhile, my best friend talked me into trying out for the choir. I did and was accepted. I was on the yearbook staff and was elected senior class historian. The year was shaping up.
Meanwhile, some of my friends from the year before drifted away and others got much closer. My best friend and I were inseparable. If you saw one of us, the other was probably nearby. We didn't see this as a problem until we found out that a mutual friend of ours wanted to become more than a friend. The only problem is, he knew he really liked one of us, but since we were always together and always playing off each other, he couldn't figure out which one it was.
Finally, he picked one and took the plunge. He asked out my best friend. I think it took only one or two dates for him to figure out he had picked the wrong one. They parted ways as friends. He waited a couple weeks and asked me out, but I was afraid of hurting my friend's feelings so I turned him down.
But we started talking more and he started calling me. When I got sick and was quarantined to see if I had rheumatic fever (I didn't), he sneaked in a visit and talked to me through the window. People at school were beginning to notice that he walked me to classes and carried my books. Our circle of friends, which had extended to 5 of us (my best friend, the guy, his best friend, the best friend's girlfriend, and me), went everywhere and hung out together. Soon he and I realized that we were much more than just friends.
Then Valentine's Day drew near. Student council was selling carnations as a fundraiser and delivering them to the classes with a doily attached and whatever message you wanted. The carnations started showing up about 3rd period. By lunch I had about 10. Then he presented me with a gift. He had tracked down 3 albums by a band I had mentioned liking, that most people had never heard of. I was overwhelmed. When he invited me on a date doubling with his best friend and his girl, I accepted immediately.
The logistics of the date got a little crazy when the restaurant they had planned to take us to turned out to be closed, but the guys came up with plan B and we had a nice meal anyway. His friend was driving, so we were sitting in the back seat. We talked and talked, until he got really quiet, took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, "I don't suppose you'd marry me?"
Join me next Thursday for the exciting conclusion!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Stories of an Unconventional Childhood, Week Thirteen
Over at Mommy's Piggy Tales, there's a cool project going on about family history. There is a challenge to blog for 15 weeks about our growing up years, with a different time period covered each week. Spitfire talked me into joining in because she's hoping for some wild stories from my childhood.
When we left off last time, I had just moved (again) and was set to begin a new school. Picking up there, my mom registered me for school and I started summer band. I showed up the first day and received a large packet of music and information and was introduced as the new student. We started practice and I was scrambling to learn the music and the way this band worked, as well as everyone's names. One week in, and I found out we couldn't stay in the house because it had sold. So, in the midst of all the newness, we were packing and moving to another house. This one was further away from the school and so I had to ride my bike.
It was a long hot ride. The house we were living in was very different from the first one. I loved the built-in bookcase in my room, but disliked pretty much everything else about it. I missed the plush carpet and beautiful yard. Our new back yard was tiny, bare and surrounded my an 8-foot cinder block wall. But I didn't even have time to fully unpack because about a week and a half later, my mom got a call with a job offer, in another city.
We packed what little we had unpacked and loaded into a trailer and moved to Carlsbad, NM. My mom had scouted out a new home while she was there signing her contract, and soon we were unpacking in a small apartment and registering me for yet another school and starting summer band, which was well in progress.
The school was laid out like a college campus and the buildings were sprawled across a hill. It took a bit to learn where everything was and map out my classes. But eventually, I learned my way around, and learned the music, and learned people's names and began settling in and making some friends. I met some special people there, but most special among them, are my still good friend November (name changed to protect the insane LOL) and my dear husband, thecooldad. Of course, like any good romantic comedy, we didn't get off to such a great start, but that's another story for another time.
When we left off last time, I had just moved (again) and was set to begin a new school. Picking up there, my mom registered me for school and I started summer band. I showed up the first day and received a large packet of music and information and was introduced as the new student. We started practice and I was scrambling to learn the music and the way this band worked, as well as everyone's names. One week in, and I found out we couldn't stay in the house because it had sold. So, in the midst of all the newness, we were packing and moving to another house. This one was further away from the school and so I had to ride my bike.
It was a long hot ride. The house we were living in was very different from the first one. I loved the built-in bookcase in my room, but disliked pretty much everything else about it. I missed the plush carpet and beautiful yard. Our new back yard was tiny, bare and surrounded my an 8-foot cinder block wall. But I didn't even have time to fully unpack because about a week and a half later, my mom got a call with a job offer, in another city.
We packed what little we had unpacked and loaded into a trailer and moved to Carlsbad, NM. My mom had scouted out a new home while she was there signing her contract, and soon we were unpacking in a small apartment and registering me for yet another school and starting summer band, which was well in progress.
The school was laid out like a college campus and the buildings were sprawled across a hill. It took a bit to learn where everything was and map out my classes. But eventually, I learned my way around, and learned the music, and learned people's names and began settling in and making some friends. I met some special people there, but most special among them, are my still good friend November (name changed to protect the insane LOL) and my dear husband, thecooldad. Of course, like any good romantic comedy, we didn't get off to such a great start, but that's another story for another time.
Book Review: The Art of War for Spiritual Battle by Cindy Trimm
http://thebulgingbookbag.blogspot.com/2010/09/book-review-art-of-war-for-spiritual.html
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Stories from an Unconventional Childhood, Week Twelve
Just before tenth grade started, my mom and I moved again because she got a new job across the state. Interestingly enough, because I was registering right before school started, I received some interesting benefits. In that school, high school covered 10th through 12th grade. Yes, that means I was low man on the totem pole again. But there was a pecking order in the school. The lockers lining the halls were in three layers. Tenth graders got the bottom lockers. Juniors got the middles. Seniors got the top lockers. However, they were out of bottom lockers when I registered, so someone assigned me a top locker. When school started, everyone assumed I was a senior, so I didn't have to deal with any of the junk the other sophomores had to deal with.
School was interesting and I quickly made friends and enjoyed most of my classes. One of the highlights was a cool field trip to some nearly cliff dwellings. Another was my geometry class, which much to my surprise, turned out to be one of my favorites. For some reason, geometry just clicked with me.
We lived in a small cinderblock house on top of a hill overlooking the town. It was surrounded by evergreens and large rocks, which made the yard pretty unusable, but nice to look at.
Toward the end of the year, we learned that my mother's position, along with about 20 others, was being eliminated. While Mom was job-hunting, she found out she had been hired to work at a summer camp. She was a former Girl Scout leader and director of a Camp Fire camp, so they jumped on her application. We put everything in storage and headed to the mountains outside Cloudcroft, NM. We lived at the camp for the better part of the summer, and my mom went on interviews on practically every day off.
I found ways to amuse myself as well. I made friends with the camp director's daughter, who was a couple years younger. I also had a blast teaching camp songs, which I knew tons of thanks to years in Girl Scouts and the summers my mom was a camp director. When they had a week for high schoolers, I actually got to be a camper and attend. The week was a backpacking trip covering a long trail through the White Mountains outside Ruidoso. It was an amazing experience that pushed the boundaries of what I thought I was capable of.
Meanwhile, she had decided we were moving to Las Cruces. We found a beautiful house in an older neighborhood and began moving in. It was a lovely house with thick carpeting, a mural on the dining room wall, tons of storage, and a small fountain in the backyard. Unfortunately, I didn't get to stay long enough to get fully unpacked, but that's a story for another day.
School was interesting and I quickly made friends and enjoyed most of my classes. One of the highlights was a cool field trip to some nearly cliff dwellings. Another was my geometry class, which much to my surprise, turned out to be one of my favorites. For some reason, geometry just clicked with me.
We lived in a small cinderblock house on top of a hill overlooking the town. It was surrounded by evergreens and large rocks, which made the yard pretty unusable, but nice to look at.
Toward the end of the year, we learned that my mother's position, along with about 20 others, was being eliminated. While Mom was job-hunting, she found out she had been hired to work at a summer camp. She was a former Girl Scout leader and director of a Camp Fire camp, so they jumped on her application. We put everything in storage and headed to the mountains outside Cloudcroft, NM. We lived at the camp for the better part of the summer, and my mom went on interviews on practically every day off.
I found ways to amuse myself as well. I made friends with the camp director's daughter, who was a couple years younger. I also had a blast teaching camp songs, which I knew tons of thanks to years in Girl Scouts and the summers my mom was a camp director. When they had a week for high schoolers, I actually got to be a camper and attend. The week was a backpacking trip covering a long trail through the White Mountains outside Ruidoso. It was an amazing experience that pushed the boundaries of what I thought I was capable of.
Meanwhile, she had decided we were moving to Las Cruces. We found a beautiful house in an older neighborhood and began moving in. It was a lovely house with thick carpeting, a mural on the dining room wall, tons of storage, and a small fountain in the backyard. Unfortunately, I didn't get to stay long enough to get fully unpacked, but that's a story for another day.
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