Summer Plans

In Honor Of The Last Week of School: Summer Plans

Gosh, I love summer.

I love chucking it as full as I can. I love the sports and the picnics and the field trip Fridays and the excursions and the exploring and the family vacation and the family reunions and the pool.

What fun things do you have planned this year? I'd love to hear because I have some blank spots, and I'd like to see if I can cram a few more things in.

Schools out: An Awesome Poll

In Honor Of The Last Week of School: For the love of no school.

Ahh. After today, there is a day and 1 1/2 hours of school left. Which is weird, because it doesn't seem like we've had nearly enough hot weather to be this close to the end of school...

So, how does that make you feel? Go ahead and vote in this poll, if for no other reason than to check out its awesomeness. If you ever have need (or, okay--- want) of a poll, this is the one to use. It won't even take you off this page when you vote! You get insta-results. Gosh. It really does rock the house. (And the bars even match my color scheme! Seriously rockin poll. Check it out.)

poll by twiigs.com

And, whether you're thrilled or... less than thrilled about the end of the school year, what are you looking forward to?

poll by twiigs.com

Stand out? Or fade away?

In Honor Of The Last Week of School: Stand Out and Fade Away Teachers

I took a mini class on grammar a few weeks ago, and the presenter said, "My tenth grade English teacher taught me to remember it this way..."

All I could think was, "You remember HOW a teacher taught you?" I don't think I remember the hows at all. It seems I can only remember the whats. Not that the whats aren't important. I'm extremely grateful for all the whats I've been taught. But mostly, I just remember what subjects a teacher taught, how they made me feel, or what changes happened in my life at that time. There are definitely ones that I remember more, and ones I remember less.

The remember more? My sixth grade teacher. He way of running his classroom was as military as his ubiquitous buzz cut. I'm sacrificing myself by walking smack into the center of dork-dom by posting this picture, just so you all can get a mental picture of my teacher. (He's the one on the right.)


We entered his classroom on the first day of class with a lot of fear for ourselves and what the next nine months would bring. (Especially since he said we would only do art twice in the year! I thought I might physically die right then and there from SOAD. (Sudden Onset Acute Disappointment.))(Plus, when I walked into the classroom the night before school started to check out my new classroom, my teacher hid behind his desk in mock horror and cried out, "Oh, no! Not another Wheeler!" Yeah. Older brothers are awesome.)

But when we left his classroom at the end of the year, we knew that no matter how many teachers we had from that point until our lives were over, we'd still never have another teacher that we liked as much as we liked him.

He taught the curriculum well. But even better, he taught us how to be better people.

I definitely carry around in my brain more memories of that year of school than I do any other year.

Unlike my third grade year.

I wrote a history of grade school for my parents a few years ago, and I could remember the names of all my teachers except for one. My third grade teacher. I pulled out my class picture, and didn't recognize the teacher at all. I didn't even recognize her name. When I was in fourth, fifth, and sixth grades, I would look down the hall that held my third grade classroom and think, "It's so weird that I had a class down there. It feels like I never did." Even that soon after leaving the class.

So where was my brain while my body went to third grade? I have no idea. But I do have ONE memory from that year.

About once a month, my teacher let us hang out wherever in the classroom we wanted, and read magazines from the magazine rack. I chose the same magazine EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I don't remember what the magazine was, but it had this picture in it:



I would open to that page, and stare at the page. And stare some more. And stare some more. Then I would look all around the classroom to make sure that everyone had their noses buried in a magazine and not looking at me...

And then I would kiss the page.

That, folks, is the extent of third grade in my brain.

So, how about you? Do you remember how teachers taught you? Or just the whats? Any teachers that still stand out in your mind, or ones that have long since faded away?

Becoming Legendary

I went to an awesome writing conference a few weeks ago. They showed us a video that I think pretty much rocks the house.

Yes, it's about writing (and also it's kind of about basketball), but at its core, it's about having a goal that seems impossible and putting in the work it takes to make that goal a reality. If you are looking to be inspired about ANYTHING in your life, I think this will do it. If you're a reader at all, you'll love it even if you aren't looking to be inspired, because it tells some great things about books I'm sure you know.

It's a full six minutes long. (I know! That's like an hour and a half in blog-reading time!) Banish those thoughts that are telling you it's way too long to sit and watch a video! But trust me: It's worth it.

Really.

I want to be this cool when I'm 92

A week or so ago, we went to the Hope of America performance that thousands of fifth graders do every year. The program is awesome. The kids always do such a great job and I love it.

One of my favorite parts is when Jean's Golden Girls perform. It's a group of ladies that are over age 50 that dance. Between them, they have 500 children, 1200 grandchildren, and 250 great grandchildren. Amazing!

The most amazing of all is the 92 year old lady--- Jean herself. This video isn't long. It's of her at the end of the performance, showing us what she's made of.

I want to be made of that, too.

If you don't want to watch it all, skip to the end. She goes into the splits! All the way to the ground! You can tell by the roar of the crowd how amazing it was to see.



If you just couldn't get enough, here's some more of Jean's Golden Girls.



If you want to see part of what Hope of America is all about (or if you're my mom)(or if you've gone with your own kids and you love it so much, you want a reminder), here's my favorite song of the night-- We Can Be A Light. I'm not quite sure why, but it makes me cry Every Single Time. And if you watch to the end, you can see how cool they look as a flag with the lights on.

You chose WHAT kind of animal?!

Alecia's second grade class did their first animal report. They wrote it, typed it, and then were assigned to do an art project at home depicting the animal they chose.

So, what kind of animal do you suppose an eight year old girl chose?

A puppy?
A kitty?
A pony?
A unicorn?
A bunny?

Or perhaps something sinister?

Something that greatly pushes the definition of "animal?"

Something that might make her mom SQUIRM, possibly SCREAM, and definitely GET THE WILLIES?

Yes, folks, that's right. My daughter chose to do her animal report on a Black Widow. I'm not even kidding. My daughter. How is it possible that she even has the genes to do the research on that kind of thing? Don'tcha think that my phobias would have at least rubbed off on her a little? For my sake?

Or, at least make her not choose to do a sculpture as her art project...


But, I'm proud to announce that I only got weirded out enough to almost drop the spider and cause lots and lots of work to be undone four times. And no spiders were harmed during the weirding out. I think I'm making progress. Before you know it, I'll be able to touch a book with a spider picture on it.

Maybe.


Okay, seriously. Doesn't this freak you out a little? I can't believe I'm even putting a picture of this on my blog. Does it help you to know that it's just foil, wire, sculptey clay, and paint?

Yeah, it doesn't help me, either.


Cuz gosh. I'd sure not like to run into this guy in a dark alley. Or in a well-lit kitchen.

Pushing the button for something OTHER than money

Okay. It seems that the poll I used is not a very good one, so several of the responses didn't even show, darn it all! The percentages are probably still a good representation, though. Unscientifically speaking. I did find a poll that emits large quantities of awesomeness yesterday. I might have to have a blog post with a poll again soon just so I can try it out.

On to the interesting question. (Check out the post below this one if you haven't read it before reading this post.)

What would make pushing the button (and therefore, costing someone their life) worth it?

No, I'm not saying I would choose a self-cleaning house or a body that no longer needs sleep. (Although, how unbelievably awesome would either of those be? Makes me all wistful and yearning just to think about it.)

After I watched the movie, I thought along lines that included "It is better that one man should perish than an entire nation dwindle and perish in unbelief." But how much would it stink to have to make that kind of decision on your own?! But then I got thinking, leaders of countries make those kind of decisions ALL THE TIME. (Leading a country: also something I'd never do.)

But that's what would be worth it to me. If, by pushing the button and ending someone's life, it saved thousands or even tens or hundreds of thousands of lives. Maybe then I could live with the guilt. You know--- if I was helping to turn the tide in an epic battle of good versus evil.

But that got me thinking even more. I wouldn't be so okay with it being "someone I didn't know." I'd definitely want to know who was going to die.

Why?

Because what if the one person who died was the honorable leader of GOOD, and the thousands or tens or hundreds of thousands of lives that were saved served willingly in the army of EVIL. Because, dang. I wouldn't wanna turn the tide in an epic battle that direction.

Pushing the button on the box

Lance and I watched the movie The Box. It started out with a really interesting question, then ran off in a strange direction that I'm fairly certain included aliens. (I tend to fall asleep during the important parts of movies, but had I watched it all, I'm still not sure I would have been certain.)

But, strangeness aside, there was that interesting question.

So, you're hanging out at home one day when someone leaves a box with a button on top on your doorstep. You find out that if you press the button, you get ONE MILLION DOLLARS! But the catch is that someone you don't know will die.

The movie was set in 1976, so if you look at 2010 dollars, the question really is:

Would you press the button for $3,890,000?

Hm. $3,890,000. Would you press the button? Go ahead and vote. And don't worry. I swear, this is completely anonymous. There's no way anyone can tell what you voted for.

So don't you be getting all shy on me!

Would you press the button?
	Heck, yes! Plenty of people I DON'T KNOW die every single day. And I can think of a lot of things to do with 3.89 million dollars.
	Are you kidding me? Nothing is worth that kind of guilt. Get that thing out of my house!
	Money wouldn't get me to press the button, but I can think of something else that would.
pollcode.com free polls

Okay, so maybe that third one wasn't actually in the movie, but I am curious. Even if you didn't chose the third option, what would make it worth it to you?

I'll tell mine tomorrow. :)

Teacher Appreciation Doors

I love decorating teachers' doors for teacher appreciation week almost as much as I enjoy walking around to see all of them when they're up! This is the eighth year I've done a door, and each year I think it will be different. I always think, Next year, I'm not going to leave it to the last minute! I'm not going to stay up the night before they have to go up until an hour that can be referred to as 'the middle' of the night. Next year, I'm NOT going to procrastinate!

Yeah. Apparently that isn't the way I roll. Nevertheless, every year I get done and I think, Gosh. That was fun.

And so was taking pictures of all of them. (Plus, it's always helpful for next year when I'm looking for inspiration.) I think there was 3 or 4 that I wasn't able to get pics of. :(

I have no idea who created most of these masterpieces. If you decorated one, make sure to tell us in the comments!

Here goes!














This is the door I did. It was for the speech teacher, Mrs. Low.