tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36927720345700001342024-03-08T08:56:32.126-06:00Expressly EstherExpressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-79205511175559607832010-07-07T16:56:00.000-05:002010-07-07T16:56:26.543-05:00WhirlwindOne of my favorite stories from the Bible is when Elijah is carried off to heaven in a chariot and whirlwind. I have often wondered what exactly that not only looked like but even more what did that feel like. I am thinking that I am getting an idea of what be caught up in a whirlwind feels like. Three months ago my dad died. Since that moment my life has been a whirlwind of strong proportions. Let me tell you some of the gusts that keeps my whirlwind in motion. Dad's death. A trip to Washington DC for a conference. End of year reports and testing. Deciding to leave NM and Rehoboth to live in Chicago with Mom. Saying goodbye or not saying goodbye to so many people in many different settings. Packing. Sorting. Discarding. Packing. Interviewing for a job at Trinity College and not getting the job. Going to Synod. Living for a month without any of my stuff but a suitcase and box of stuff. Family reunion of which I was a main organizer. Heading back to NM to get the rest of our stuff. Changing address. Being and advocate for Mom with some different companies. Getting some services hooked up in the Chicago house when it is still not officially my home. Having the cats run away and leaving without them. Did I mention grief in many forms and for many things. No job. I think that this gives some sort of idea. My life is what it is. At moments I feel that the whirlwind has sucked the breath out of me. Just like walking out into a very icy morning and taking a breath making my windpipe momentarily numb. I know that I have made friend with my whirlwind when I can once more breathe. I, like Elijah, want to see my whirlwind as a positive life change and make it my friend.Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-45298293776897977162010-02-21T20:58:00.000-06:002010-02-21T21:10:29.919-06:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Families. My family is far from perfect. I love each and every one of them flaws and all. Right now my sibs and I are concerned about Mom and Dad. After much phoning and talking with the other sibs Big Sis is taking off for the family home at the end of the week. Next Sis and Third Sis are flying in so that Big Sis has company for the trip. She will then stay with Mom and Dad for an indeterminate length of time. Families can be tough - they know all the flaws, foibles and things hidden from non family members. Yet I would not trade mine. They take me as is and will be there when needed. </span></span>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-85251146833401751272010-02-17T23:45:00.000-06:002010-02-17T23:58:27.428-06:00Money ManHave you ever been in love with someone you have never met? Okay, maybe love is not the correct word. I am taking a financial peace class at church. The curriculum scares me a bit I must admit. I have never been particularly good with money. I have a habit of taking extra money and lending it to people, buying things for people, spending money on my kids at school, buying books ..... You get the idea. In comes my new hero. He does not wear bright and shining armor, he does not ride a mighty steed or have the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound. He simply has a direct, CLEAR way of explaining money and how to get a handle on the money in your life. This man's name is Dave Ramsey. I never thought that I would hear myself say this but I am enjoying the video lessons but I am also ENJOYING reading his book on finances and money. Go figure! If you ever have the opportunity to take a course of Dave Ramsey's take it. I am finding that it is just good cents. My check book has not balanced for ( dare I say it) balanced for years. I do have a little trick that assures I am never overdrawn. Money is just money. When someone asks me how much I get paid I kind of shrug because I know that money gets deposited a few times a month but I do not worry about the particulars. I know that some of you are shuddering at this point. I just do not have the find the last penny gene. <div>My hero Dave may be turning me around. I may never be a last penny kind of girl but I will be saving more and cutting up my credit cards actually was not so bad. My new vocabulary words are, save, cash, budget and emergency fund to mention a few. Who says that an old woman can't learn new tricks?! </div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-32118505376661164962010-02-15T15:03:00.001-06:002010-07-07T16:15:49.508-05:00<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> I am turning 50 tomorrow. I know it is a cliche but I really do not know where the time went. I really do feel that just yesterday I was playing in the ditch with Dale, taking pictures for the school yearbook, studying in college of beginning my first teaching job. It comforts me to know that I would not want to go back and relive any part of my life. It might be fun to visit again but not to go back and actually live there. The good is always tinted with the bad. Achievements are always bittersweet with the memories of disappointments. I want to look ahead - to learn from the first 50 so that the next 50 are even better. There is no benefit in regrets or reliving the past over and over. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">I love looking around me and seeing all of the positive aspects of me life. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">My family - watching my dear nieces and nephews now raising kids of their own. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">Mom and Dad aged but still sharp and with so much to share and impart to </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">us children. Friendships that are deep due to the time and care that has gone into</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">them for so long. I am 50 and I do not want to go back - I want to go forward. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">Thank you Lord for the life that you have blessed me with. </span></span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-5029824467655978052009-07-21T20:43:00.000-05:002009-07-21T21:10:33.665-05:00Let it Rain<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It has been hot here. Sweaty not wanting to move hot. Today though I have been reminded of one of the things I love about our summers. Monsoon season. This just means that it will rain a little bit most days. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Rain is different here. Don't get me wrong it is still wet and it can cause puddles, floods and lots of sticky mud. Usually we watch the clouds building up in the sky. There have been times that we literally travel with the rain when we go to Albuquerque or back to Gallup. It rains and stops, rains and stops, rains and stops and really it is the same storm that is moving in our same direction.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What I really love though are the rainbows. The sun can be shining brightly in the east and it is dark and stormy in the west or vica versa - then the drizzles and light rains refract the light causing the sky to be filled from end to end with a beautiful arching rainbow which is usually double as well. Some are so beautiful that is almost hurts to look at the shimmer and cold colors of the glistening arc. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I also love verga. I did not know this word until I moved to New Mexico. Verga is when you can see it raining in the distance. There are streaks of rain that you really can see but it never makes it to the ground. The rain literally dries before it gets to earth. It really is amazing. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I have saved the best of last - the smell. I am not sure I can describe it. It is a fresh tantalizing scent of clean dust, sagebrush, yarrow, and washed cotton. Even that does not do it justice. In the midwest rain carries the scent of grass and green and damp and is lovely in its own way. Rain here has more of the smell of life in it. The scent carries the sighs of the vegetation and animals that have become so sere that leaves, paws and atmosphere are prune -ish with lack of moisture. The scent of rain tells me that God has not forgotten the life in the desert and it is His promise of feeding creation. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>In a place that gets only gets a few inches annually rain is life and I think is our sign of God's love and care. Perhaps the is the essence in the rain that I cannot quite describe - God 's love. All I know is that no candle, air freshener or soap will ever be able to duplicate it. There is no scent that is bottled that contains God's love. It is simply there for the taking and provides life. Like the rain in the desert - makes life sweeter, cleaner and life enhancing. Let God rain on you with His living water. Even the desert comes alive with God's water. </div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-53124813197429997172009-07-17T22:27:00.000-05:002009-07-17T23:01:41.240-05:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I was thinking today about all of the different ways to be hot. Right now I am sweaty hot. My clothes are sticking to me where my body and chair touch. The air is still and the temperature is about 90. Even with the fans - until the sun goes down it will just be hot. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There are other hots:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>fever</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>on a lucky streak</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>oven/stove</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>out with a good looking guy</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>red, embarrassed</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>sauna healthy hot</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>dressed to kill</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>something that is liked A LOT</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>understanding</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I love words. I like how in English there are so many different ways to say the same thing. Think of the word walk - you can strut, gambol, trudge, skip, slog, prance, amble, stride, step.... you get the idea. Each one gives a different picture. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Like all else in this world how can you think of the beauty of communication and not know that there is a GOD? Our creative words image our creative creator. So with that let me say - goodbye, so long, farewell, tata, see you, later, bye. Get it? :-) </span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-14787621104038582152009-07-12T21:25:00.000-05:002009-07-12T21:41:34.670-05:00Don't Look over the Fence<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Coming back from Chicago Sis and I did our usual thing. I drove and she piloted. We went off of the main highways to two lane roads several times to make our route more direct. Sis does not like it when we are heading south and the highway heads sharply north before turning south once more. At that point we get off the main freeway and see America so to speak. <br /></span><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On this last trip I met a woman staying behind one of our hotels with her family in their camper. She had several little dogs and we connected first with dog talk. I then discovered that she and her husband were migrant workers. They were in the area to harvest wheat. The near fields needed another day or two before harvesting so she and hubby and in laws spent time around their camp. From Kansas they would head further north continuing to stop and harvest as they went. These farms were yearly stops and work areas. She was very upbeat and friendly and accepted her life as normal. I wonder what it would be like to spend most of the year traveling in a camper as your home and going from farm to farm to work. Sometimes they would stay on the property of where they were working but not all of the farmers wanted them to do that. She stated that she preferred leaving the property and going to their own camp. <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I say RV I do not mean one of those mammoth beasts that pull yachts and jeeps and are as big as a bus. Their RV was one of modest room pulled behind an old pickup. They depended on the seasons and crops to live. Life on the road. It sounds romantic and free. I am not sure that is true. I need to spend more time looking at all of the good things in my own life and appreciating them. My lady found happiness in simply being with her husband and making ends meet. That is the life she knew and was accepting that and making it a good one. I need to do the same in my own life. I have to stop looking over the fence so to speak and see how green my own grass is growing. </span><br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-81514208393692142142009-07-10T22:03:00.001-05:002009-07-10T22:19:35.333-05:00Ahh! Summer<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'courier new';font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I love summer. (Okay I also love fall, winter and spring.)Anyway, back to summer. Books epitomize summer. I read. I actually sit and read a book from cover to cover. Don't give me too much credit. These are not deep uplifting titles. During the summer I like to read what I call grocery store genre. These include books that are cheap, paperback and are mostly fluff. Every once in a while I come across a winner that I have to make sure I tell my friends the title. For the most part though, these are just quick reads for nothing but pure enjoyment. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sis and I travel to visit family. Books once again take part. We are road trippers. We pack the van, load the dogs and pop in audio books. The open road and a good story are a wonderful match. We range from classics to mysteries, biographies, and romance. There was even one time that we had almost arrived at our parent's house and took the long way in order to finish the book we were listening to at the time. I know, I know, our priorities need tweaking at times. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So put a book in your purse, pop one into the car's audio or sit in the shade and lose yourself in a story other than your own. I always feel a bit happier after a trip into a good tale. Please "book" yourself into an enjoyable story of your own choosing. I know you will be glad that you did. </span></span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-76522749116447492112009-02-28T21:40:00.001-06:002009-07-12T21:44:03.984-05:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">t has been awhile since I have taken the time to write. I was reminded today that I need moments of creativity in my life in order to make me feel better about who I am. I went to school on a Saturday and met a few crafty friends. I spent most of the day creating cards, laughing, eating and giving my opinion on others creative efforts. ( Only when I was asked I might add.) I left feeling good. I had some wonderful cards to show for my day and I had connected with ladies that I had not spent quality time with in far too long. I recommend some time spent creating to all. I wonder if when God finished creating he not only saw that it was good but felt that it was good? </span></span>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-63679251470512331832008-11-16T17:26:00.000-06:002008-11-16T17:42:16.559-06:00Service?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Carol went to the bank on Friday to get some change for her cash box. She had a table at the church craft fair and needed change because we both knew that she would sell some of her "stuff". At the bank she patiently proceeds through the drive thru lane. When her turn arrives to stuff her business in the little tube that whizzes off through a pipe to the bank building she included a note. On the note she said that she would like so many $1, so may $5, so many $10 and so on. She waited and waited and before Christmas actually arrived the tube came whizzing back. She removed the white envelope that held her seed money for her cash box. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She took the envelope and was about to tuck it into her purse before driving off when it hit her that it felt a bit thin. She peaked inside and there was a couple of $50 bills. She rolls down her window, removes the tube, and puts the envelope inside. She also pushes the button that will allow her to communicate with the indoor teller. She tells the teller that she has sent back the money and wondered if her the teller had seen her note about the kinds of bills she wanted. The teller replied in the affirmative and went on to comment that she did not really think that Carol wanted all of those different quantities and denominations. After a deep breath Carol assured her that what she had written on the note was really what she wanted. She then asked the teller once again to exchange the 50's for the other denominations. It took a few minutes but the teller did do what Carol asked. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>After Carol told me the story we looked at each other and said, " That's so Gallup!" Why is it that other people assume they know what we want and what is good for us? Service is not a word that the businesses in town actually know the meaning of and yet then we get people who serve by assumption. Sometime come and visit and when Carol and I look at each other and say "That's so Gallup!" you will know exactly what we mean. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-74824544325807098332008-11-02T11:49:00.000-06:002008-11-02T12:03:41.246-06:00Bicycle Built For......<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';">I am now the proud of a new bicycle. I did a lot of research and talked to many "biker" friends before I took the plunge and did it. Nothing in this world is easy though. The bike is a wonderful mix of old and new. The color is that of champagne and it has coaster brakes, three speeds, and a very sturdy frame. The problem lay in the seat. The clamp kept loosening and the seat fell every time I so much as hit a dip in the road. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I am a larger woman. This seat falling thing was not only making it difficult to ride my new bike but was also making my self image plummet as well. Friends would look at it and do some adjusting and I would ride and be fine for a day and the problem would begin again. Down would fall my seat. In my mind I thought that I am trying so hard to exercise and because I am so big I cannot even do something fun like ride a bike. <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then entered my esteemed neighbor and friend Jim. He worked magic by putting a new pipe into the seat slot so the seat rests on the pole and cannot simply slide down into the shaft. He came over early on a Saturday morning without even saying he was there. He had solved the problem for me and came and put it into action. This not only lifted my seat but my feeling of self worth. Now, even though i am large my seat no longer slides down into the shaft. Now, even though I am a large woman I know longer feel that I am a failure as a bike rider. The pipe solved the problem but really friendship did. <br /></span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-85123843678617941112008-10-25T23:53:00.000-05:002008-10-26T00:04:34.027-05:00Littering<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There are times I wonder if we are teaching the right things to our kids. As I sat at my desk the other morning before school reviewing my plans for the day and checking email I happened to look out the window. My window is on the north side of the school and I have a scenic view of the playground. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>On the blacktop area I saw an empty and discarded juice carton. I am sure that it was tossed by a child wanting to play without a stop at the trash bin. Several other kids walked passed the carton without seeing it. Then came a couple of boys who treated it like a hockey puck and played with it a few moments before putting it back near to the place they had first encountered it. More kids passed the carton as they answered the call of the bell to come in. More kicking, stepping on and avoiding the carton. <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Finally the playground was quiet and deserted and there sat the carton. I was about to turn away and hit the bathroom before teaching when I saw some moms come towards the door of the school. One of them stopped and looked at the carton but continued walking while shaking her head. Than another mom came and with a quick flick of the side of her shoe got the carton out of her path. <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There sat the carton alone and deserted, dirtying up the look of the area. The trash can stood about ten feet away. How often do I ignore a simple thing like picking up a piece of trash or giving a person a smile or listening ear? God gave us charge of this world. We have to be faithful in little things so that we can better handle bigger things. What are we teaching the children?<br /></span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-8350033366513453702008-10-18T22:24:00.000-05:002008-10-18T22:53:17.668-05:00Taking a Fall<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I fell today. Now I sit here with ice on my knee hoping that the swelling will go down soon. The fall proved once again what a klutz I am. It happened at church. I have been at church a lot this week. To raise money for our building fund we held a rummage sale. Since it was partially my idea I helped - a lot. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It was fun. I love talking people into buying things that they really don't need but in their heart of hearts really want. There was a lot of stuff that got new homes today. While we were cleaning up I took a load of boxes to the dumpster. On my way back across the parking lot I tripped over a stone or my foot or something that might not have even been there. While I was catching my balance my foot found the curb and the expectation of catching my balance was no longer an option. I fell and I fell hard. Now I have a swollen knee and lovely black and blue marks. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Life contains falls - falls of many different kinds. A physical fall can slow us down. An emotional fall can bring us to a screeching stop. I find that taking a hold of a stretched out helping hand is the first step to getting up. Getting up is the hardest part. Once I began to move I felt a bit better - sore and ouchy but moving forward. Life does not stop when a fall occurs. It is how we react that matters. Personally I feel that I have to do what the old song says (after crying a little) that I have to " pick myself up, brush my self off and start all over again " in this case with a little bit of a limp. <br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-40957930359638783882008-10-11T21:29:00.000-05:002008-10-11T21:46:09.346-05:00Traditions<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Traditions plays an important role that keeps us grounded and connected. Traditions are comforting and predictable. Traditions change within the context of staying the same. Each time we practice a tradition it is not exactly the same as the last time but the practice of the tradition remains the same. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Carol and I have developed a few traditions of our own over the years. Today we celebrated and practiced the tradition of APPLES. We head up to Farmington which is about 2 hours north of us. Along the Animas and San Juan rivers there are families who have made a business of growing orchard fruits. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Today was beautiful. It was warmish but in a fallish sort of way. The cottonwood trees wore their yellowing leaves with a graceful and stately poise. We passed a field of pumpkins, and smelled roasting chilis at the farmer's market. It was the perfect day for getting apples. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We got to the Kerby orchard during the late morning. Carol and I went into the apple barn and there they were - gold delicious, red delicious, cameo, honey crisp, gala, and rome. The older Mormon lady who helped us was interested in the fact that we were from Gallup and were getting apples for friends as well as ourselves. We chatted and talked apples, weather, houses and other topics of life. The interlude was delightful and felt like a real piece of Americana. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now I can see the future - one that is full of apple pie, apple crisp and most of all wonderful, delicious applesauce. Apples - can't get much more American or real than that. <br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-38596876832611383982008-10-11T21:17:00.000-05:002008-10-11T21:28:27.724-05:00Wild Wild West<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I generally do not think of myself as living in the wild west. Yes it is a bit warmer here at times. I see many people in cowboy hats and boots but that is just the norm. There are certain things that do give me a jolt and make me realize that I live in a unique western place. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I think that when - there is a bear up the tree in front of the post office on campus OR there is a rattle snake in the big tires on the playground OR I go to a rodeo and find out that one of my former students is a top bull rider. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I thought it again the other morning. I arrived at work about 7:40. As I approached the parking area by the elementary playground I saw a very unique sight. One of our new administrators was riding his mountain bike across and through that playground. Now in and of itself this is not a strange or unique thing. What you have to picture is that he was herding and rounding up a group of free range or possibly wild horses. Seeing a man on a bike weaving in and out and around herding these large beasts off of the playground is indeed a unique sight. I laughed and laughed. It was a kodak moment that I was bummed about not being able to capture for posterity. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>If you are interested in getting a taste of the wild wild west come on down to our part of the world. I will see what I can scare up for you. <br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-85828494341592821272008-09-15T20:40:00.000-05:002008-09-19T21:47:19.308-05:00Am I My Job?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What a week this has been. I do not want to go into all of the details but working 5 days of 10 or more hours has caught up with me. I sit here on Friday night and cannot even recall all of the details that have brought me to this tired place. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The week washes over me and I realize that only the strength of God has gotten me through it. One of the fun things of the week was doing a presentation to the middle school and upper elementary staffs. The topic chosen for me involved sharing modification strategies with them. I need to say that the principals asked me to do it the night before. I knew that the only way to present the ideas was to use the ideas in my presentation. I spent time that evening putting together graphic organizers, setting up a vocab notebook, and making sure that I had useable handouts for everyone. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My body sweated. My mouth dried up. My knees shook. These people interact with me positively every day. Yet here I stood nervous as all get out to talk to them. I am not sure why that is. Perhaps I feel that they will be rating me and will find me wanting. I felt a little like Jesus when he returned to Nazareth to share his mission. Unlike Jesus, I ended up having a good reception. I think that I got a bigger perk from the acceptance of my known peers than the ones I got from strangers when I presented at conferences. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Being accepted by people we care about is so meaningful. I do not think that I find my identity in my job. My job does not define me. I really feel that my relationships with others does define me. Perhaps you do not agree with me. All I know is that I spent a lot of time putting together my 25 minutes for my staff because I care about them. I wanted to make sure that the time I spent with them would be a positive and beneficial one. If they accepted and felt positive about what I had to say then my ideas and thoughts trickle down to the students. I want to feel that I make a difference in my little pond. I do not care if it is me directly or me as a catalyst. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I do know that the smiles and thanks I received after my little session meant alot to me and I know that some of the ideas will in someway benefit the kiddos. I cannot ask for more than that. I also know that if I had to I would gladly relive this week with all of its ups and downs - I feel that I did something this week that mattered. <br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-47802193241284145512008-09-11T20:43:00.000-05:002008-09-11T21:09:12.869-05:00Thinking About Water<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I teach students who are somewhat challenged in the area of learning. Some call them high needs kids. Most days I have the patience to teach a concept one more time. And then the next day teach it again one more time. Let's just say that I am a lot better at math than I ever thought I would be. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>One of the areas that challenge most of my students is common sense. I have to admit that today the patience wore a little thin. One of my 4th graders brought me to the point of speechlessness. I looked at him, opened my mouth to say something and just closed my mouth again because I just did not know what to say. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There is a bathroom in my classroom. Many years ago it was a first grade room so - a bathroom. It is a mini low to the ground bathroom but functional. One of my kids had to use the bathroom so I said sure go ahead. After he had been back in his seat for a bit I went into the bathroom to wash my hands. When I went into the bathroom the water was running in the sink. It was not dripping - it was running. I turned it off and then went out into the classroom to speak with the student. I reminded him that after washing his hands he needed to turn the water off. He got a blank look on his face. He said to me that the water had been running when he went into the bathroom so he left it on. As I said before - I was speechless. <br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>How do you teach common sense? I am teaching math which is important but it is not enough. How do I get these kids ready to face life? They are the leaders of tomorrow and facing an age of technology and advancements that have not been dreamed of yet. They need to be thinkers in order to be viable Christians in their world. They will have to know how to think. This is my challenge. I must show them that they can be thinkers and know to turn the water off when they see it running. <br /></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-5042033190038787752008-09-09T20:42:00.001-05:002008-09-09T21:00:03.044-05:00Advice<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We have a new teacher in our first grade classroom. Her year is starting out rough. She has a student with anger management problems and another who is probably going to be diagnosed with emotional difficulties. At lunch today she seemed at the end of her rope. The one little boy's mom came in and told the teacher flat out to not call her at work any more when there is difficulty with her child. In effect the message was he is your problem. The teacher came to the lounge feeling defeated and unsure. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She is a good teacher. Her idea are good. Her heart definitely is with her kids. We veterans listened and asked some questions but really did not have anything to tell her. I heard comments like - "Hang in there." " Have a conference with the mom , principal, counselor and you" " Remove the child away from the other students" etc. etc. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>These are all good suggestions. As I sat listening to the conversation I thought about myself as teacher. I realize more and more that I do not have all the answers. I think that 10 years ago I did but not any longer. Each child and situation and family are so different that there is no one answer. I realize that I am more realistic and less resilient. I do not bounce back as quickly with new ideas and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">optimistic</span> outlook. I simply cannot force kids to learn. These wonderful children of the heavenly father have free will and make choices and I do not control that. I work hard, do my best, make lessons interesting but I cannot guarantee success or good behavior. I cannot take all the blame for kids not learning and cannot take all the credit when they do. The journey to this realization has been a long, windy pot holey one. I wake up each day knowing that it is a new day full of possibilities and to not hold grudges left from the day before. If I can teach my students this I feel that then I am successful. I like to think that the word for each new day is GRACE. I feel that that is all the advice that I have to share with a new teacher. <br /><div><br /></div></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-23989010201917106192008-09-06T20:30:00.001-05:002008-09-06T20:47:57.308-05:00Squashed?I went out this morning into the back yard and smiled at the cool fresh air and warm sun on my face. I turned the corner of the deck and my smile disappeared. A huge sigh blew out of the depths of me. Life really is not fair. <div><br /></div><div>We have moved into fall around here. Not so much during the day but for sure at night. The temperature dropped to around 38 degrees last night. That temperature is marvelous for sleeping. I love snuggling under my down comforter with the cool air blowing over me from the open windows. Not all like the cool nights of September. My zucchini did not. </div><div><br /></div><div>I container gardened this year. I have some flowers in beds but all of my veggies and herbs are in big pots around the patio. I rigged up an old hose to my water barrels this summer so watering them with "good" water is now much easier. I simply turn on the spigot and gravity does the rest. Much easier than lugging watering cans all around. The pots have done great this summer, even with the neighbor boy tending them while I was in Chicago during July. </div><div><br /></div><div>This morning told me that yes the growing season is winding down. My zucchini and my glorious basil looked pathetic. I did not even think to cover my babies last night. I have not been paying attention to the weather reports. The edges of my squash and all my basil were crinkled and limp from the cold. The ends of the actual squash look sad as well. A little limp so to speak. Do they make viagra for squash? I went ahead and watered and by the end of the afternoon they were looking a bit better. Battle weary but a bit better. I hope to still get a few squash and I have given up my plan of making homemade pesto. Fortunately the tomatoes and peppers stayed warm right up next to the house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say my babies will be covered tonight. Perhaps it will be a too little too late but - but I do not want all of my dreams of fresh produce totally squashed. Gardening in New Mexico- a constant battle with the earth. Thanks a lot Adam. </div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-39935116920314128092008-09-05T20:25:00.000-05:002008-09-06T20:49:03.661-05:00Goodbye friend<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>When I was young our house was full of kids and cats. I had one special cat named Binky. I loved Binky. In fact - Binky went everywhere with me. When I say everywhere I mean everywhere. This cat allowed me to dress it in doll clothes. After the cat was "dressed" I plopped him into my baby buggy and proceeded to roll him with me everywhere. If the cat was not in the buggy then Binky was in my arms or wrapped around my shoulders hitching a ride while purring in my ear. The familiar and oft heard question was " Does that cat know how to walk?" I loved that cat. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Since I became an adult I continued to make animals part of my life. There have been some very special ones Pest the cat who hid in the fridge and laundry hamper, Snoops who managed to check everything out in her short life. Dogs became a part of my life as well as cats. The first dog I ever had was Flynn. He was half Irish wolfhound and half something else. We liked to say that he was the result of a hit and run. Flynn was legendary among our friends for eating cheesecake from the counter, peeing on the tent etc. I could go on and on. There was Charlie, Oliver and Sasha. Now there is Dutch and Cocoa and until recently Brandie. <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Brandie was a cream pure bred Irish wolfhound. She was small for a wolfhound female but still managed to awe people with her size. She was a laid back take life as it comes type of dog. That is until she got a sniff of food and then that dog could move faster than a speeding bullet to snatch what she wanted. As the years passed she became stiff and found it harder to make her back end rise and fall at will. Finally the day came that she could not get out the dog door in time. She simply lay in the house not leaving the window room to go anywhere else in the house. I knew that the time had come to say goodbye. With many tears and gentle petting she fell asleep to not ever reawaken on this earth. I like to think of her galumphing across the fields of the Lord smelling the flowers, enjoying the sunshine and living a true dog's life. Brandie your death has left a hole in our family and our hearts. To loosely quote EB White - you were some dog. <br /></span></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-17119485454321969852008-09-04T20:47:00.000-05:002008-09-06T20:50:04.357-05:00No one Like a Sister<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I live with my sister. Many people find it surprising that I not only live with my sister but that we have lived together for over 20 years and continue rub along very well together. I cherish our relationship. In fact, in many ways, ours is a marriage like relationship. I love the way we balance each other. I am a feeler and enjoy staying in touch with friends and family. She loves the fact that she stays in touch with others through me. Sending out her 5 Christmas cards each year is a task well accomplished when it is complete. On the other hand, she looks at situations with a more logical mind and helps me step back and look without my emotions fogging my vision. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> We love to read. We love to work in the kitchen baking and cooking. My sister likes to organize and reorganize and have things that match. I like take care of business, get naggy little things out of the way and check them off of my list. Do not ask us to hang pictures together - she needs to measure I like to eyeball the space. We take road trips together, watch movies together, and in general enjoy each others company. The most wonderful aspect of our sisterhood and friendship is that I am beautiful to her and she is beautiful to me. In short - there really is no one like a sister. </div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-71619145485730586172008-09-03T20:39:00.000-05:002008-09-06T20:50:51.968-05:00Falling In<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There are so many things that remind me that summer is ending and fall beginning. The crisp cool nights which make me pull my comforter up to my chin. The tangy smell of roasting green chilis in the air at all the area grocery stores. Football begins at the local high schools, colleges, and professionally. The monsoons are tapering off but still manage to surprise with sudden rain bursts on an otherwise very sunny day. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>School has begun. All of a sudden my life goes from projects at home to grading math papers, writing lesson plans, attending meetings and building relationship with my students. I enjoy my job and the kids. I must admit that I am not always so fond of all the extraneous things that my job involves. I am blessed to be working with a fantastic staff and have the support of a couple very extraordinary principals. An aspect I love is how the sameness of each day is different. I love looking for the special moment in each day. I challenge you to try it. The moment may be the sighting of a special bird, a student finally understanding the difference between ones, tens and hundreds, or a good story told in the staff lounge. If you look hard enough they are there. Please look for yourself. <br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br /></div></div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3692772034570000134.post-26165620373675680212008-09-03T20:34:00.000-05:002008-09-19T21:55:57.315-05:00Wise Muse<div> "Earth's crammed with heaven,</div><div>And every common bush afire with God,</div><div> But only he who sees takes off his shoes;</div><div>The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries. "</div><div> - Elizabeth Barrett Browning-</div>Expressly Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200600856210637583noreply@blogger.com1