A visit to the islands

Pin It I walked along the wharf eating a warm Cinnabon.

The surf crashed against the retaining wall as the cool wind—a welcome change—blew in my face as the gulls rode gracefully over the rolling waves on eddying air currents.

I quickened my pace, scattering a flock of pigeons who’d been strutting along, heads bobbing as if to say, “Look, I belong here and you don’t—you’re just visiting, thank you very much.”

I turned on my iPod and slipped into my earbuds, pulling out my willow-colored notebook and jotting down a few observations as I walked, feeling invigorated with life itself to the sweet tones of Vertical Horizon.

The Cinnabon was consumed, fingers licked clean of the sticky, cinnamony, sugary, goodness which had been left behind.

Satisfaction.

The line to board the schooner was relatively short, and in a manner of minutes I found myself on my way to visit Lady Liberty.

As the vessel moved closer to the small island, the statue grew larger, rising up like a testament to freedom. I changed the music on my iPod; Neil Diamond’s “America” flooded my ears—the imagery it created in my thoughts was intertwined with that which I was now seeing.

It was magical.

I have no words.

To catch a glimpse of what the immigrants to this country had seen as they ended their perilous voyages from their varied countries was amazing; to see this monolith holding aloft her torch must have been a breathtaking sight for many of them. After all, it was for me, and I live in 2009—an age of computers and technology.

I walked the grounds.

I drank it in.

I was stirred.


I stayed, and then continued my journey to Ellis Island.

I must admit that in reality there are truly no words which can convey what I felt as I traveled to that next little island and stood in that vast anteroom. Something came over me—which comes over me yet again as I pen these words to the page before me.

I called my dad.

I felt tears pulling at my eyes—tears for those who’d come before, knowing what it must have felt like for the millions who’d passed though this portal years before my time.

Stirring.

When I thought of some of my own ancestors walking in this same space that I was now—separated by the span of a hundred or more years—it was a humbling experience. I will always be grateful for that feeling I had standing at Ellis Island; a feeling which I will never forget.

I remained on those grounds nearly the entire day; wandering, reflecting, reading, and just being. I could have stayed a lot longer.

When it finally came time for me to go, I feel like a piece of me was left behind.

Ellis Island

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A Return to Christmas

Pin It Do you have a favorite book you like to read at Christmas time? Mine used to be The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson, but a score of years ago I discovered another book which has become my seasonal favorite—and it has remained number one since that time. In fact, it’s up there with my top 10 all-time favorite books as well.

Every Christmas I faithfully read this book to my students; they in turn come to love the story too.

The name of the book? A Return to Christmas by Chris Heimerdinger.

What I probably love most about the book is how Chris is able to hook you with a wonderful storyline, and you find yourself dying to know how it can possibly pan out—but trust me, it does.

Read it.

You won't regret it, I promise.

By the way, I found that you can read the first chapter online HERE, plus a the first page of chapter two. That is, if you’re interested.

Visitor return

Pin It “Chase,” my die-hard visitor, came to see me again this week; this time he brought another previous student with him.

They traveled 3 miles by what mode of transportation was available to them...


I’m still moved.

Blinding whiteness

Pin It My fingers rest upon the keyboard tonight. The cursor blinks incessantly in front of me. It’s taunting me…daring me to write.

I look at all of that white space. It seems so daunting.

So vast.

So empty.

It waits for my words to fill it, to make it become real. So, I write…my fingers groping blindly onward; reaching for the keys that will sound an orchestra of words at my touch.

I play them slowly at first, as if trying on a new pair of shoes. They feel comfortable…it is in this moment that I find peace.

The cursor still blinks as my fingers begin to dance back and forth…feeling the rhythm of the keys before me. Explosions of words now appear where once there was nothing.

As I pause in somber tranquility, the cursor blinks onward. However, it is no longer taunting me…but instead beckoning me onward…instructing me to write until I have squeezed out the final thoughts of which I am capable this eve.

I stand back and gaze at the once-white canvas stretched before me, now arrayed with a multitude of colorful expression.

Tonight I am the artist, the musician, and the call of the muses has been answered.

I am finished.

The molding is finally in place...

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It’s official.

I’ve lived in my house for exactly one year.

Granted, I did take possession at about 10 p.m. on the night of July fourth; however, weeks of cleaning, painting, tiling, and getting it ready were required before an official move-in.

It is hard for me to believe that I’ve been here for a whole year. I remember this house feeling so strange, so foreign, so uncomfortable. Like a brand-new pair of dress shoes. Well, the house has since been ‘broken in’ and it feels like home. Many upgrades and improvements have been made over the year, but there was one which eluded me for the longest time…

Let me take you back to just over one year ago: (insert shimmering screen and time-travel music here).

Well, Shawna and I have been working really hard on the house. I get up pretty early every morning and head up to start spackling in holes. I had a group of friends who showed up the other day and helped me wash down walls; I am so grateful for the help they’ve provided…it saved me hours of work. We took out all of the screens and washed the windows, too.

I love the look of clean windows and how the world looks through them.

The other day I decided that I would pull up the linoleum in the kitchen…it’s the same design as in the kitchen of #4 Privet Drive. If you don’t believe me, watch “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.” Look at the Dursley’s linoleum in the opening scenes of the movie which take place in the kitchen with Dobby, the house elf…it’s the same floor.

I tore the linoleum out and as I did I found myself looking at the bare wood. All I could think was, “What in the world did I just do?” I wanted to sit down and never get up. I can’t believe just how much of a project this whole house has turned in to.

Well, I knew I just couldn’t leave it so I started to get to work. I next removed all of the floor molding, and started to prep for tiling. Now, I’ve never tiled before, but I decided to sit in on the little class offered at the Home Depot (after how much I’ve spent there over the past few weeks, I’m glad it is something that is free). I will just tile the thing and hope it doesn’t look terrible.

(Two days later)

I started to tile and it is going pretty quickly. Well, at first. Tiling is a lot of work and there is a lot you need to do to make sure that it is level, equally spaced, and getting cuts right, so the pieces look good together. Though this project took me only a few days to complete, I’d never want to do it again. I think I’d rather eat shards of broken glass.

So, how much time did it take altogether? Well, let me put it this way…I just finished “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” on audiobook as I was working on this and touch-up painting. The molding still needs to be sanded down, repainted, and attached to the wall. I just don’t feel like it…I am beat. I ended up putting the molding in the kitchen pantry and will do it when I feel like it.

I think I deserve a break.

(Return to the present day…)

Well, the molding just stayed in the pantry…for a whole year; I just couldn’t bring myself to put it all back on. It was far too much work in my opinion…of course, after doing everything else such as sanding the deck and restaining it, and cleaning out the back patio (which was a jungle), I just felt like doing nothing else. Every day I’d look in and see that molding. It was like the wood was continually calling my name, “Teachinfourth…put us back on the wall…” (well, the voice usually sounded like Annette or Tara, who’d both offered to do it for me, however, pride would not let me let them do it).

Well, I am happy to report that this weekend I finally completed that year-long task and my kitchen and dining room both have the molding back in place! At first it sure did look strange, I was so used to that unfinished strip at the bottom of all of the walls…It sure feels good to be done.

I would write more but it is coming up on 11 and I am bushed. I don’t have the effort to try to be funny anymore.

Time to blog out…

Goodnight.

P.S. Using power tools always makes a job much more fun...and if you are dying to see what the molding looks like now, let me know and I’ll snap and upload a photo of it...

Whoa...that sounds pretty lame even as I type it; however, you are now invested at this point, aren’t you? You’ll probably feel somewhat incomplete if you don’t see the completed project...

The Last Lecture

Pin It There are things and people we encounter in life who inspire us… these little wonders grab us, shake us, and refuse to let go. Today I’d like to share one of these people who changed me. By viewing this, I hope it will change you and become a part of your life as much as it has now become a part of mine.

Meet, Professor Randy Pausch, a man who’s made a tremendous impact on the lives of millions of people, a man who lived his childhood dreams of meeting Captain James T. Kirk and experiencing zero gravity, a man who fathered three children, a man who died today of pancreatic cancer.

The wisdom Mr. Pausch…only, he’d want to be called Randy—left behind speaks long after he is physically able to do so.

His message will inspire you.

Randy Pausch - ABC Special.

A condensed version of Randy's Lecture recently given on Oprah.

Randy Pausch's Last Lecture.

“The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us the chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They’re there to stop the other people.”

- Randy Pausch

Vacation - Sunday's Inspiration

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I was trying to do a post of current photos, however, blogger is not being very cooperative at the present moment. I will instead, post something I saw on another blog…

This hit me, it hit me hard.

I can’t say that I wasn’t moved, and wanted to share it with everyone who is a part of my world..

Noted absence as of late

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Several people have mentioned that I have not been blogging as of late. I am sorry about this, however, with the onslaught of the end-of-year programs, activities, etc., I find myself pressed for time more than usual. Couple this with packing my classroom and getting ready to move to a new school in just a few more days and you’ve got yourself a busy schedule.

Of course, I am not implying that your schedules are not equally loaded down with various and sundry items.

I am sorry to those who’ve I’ve not had a lot of time for lately. This, of course, will remedy itself before long.

I did take a few minutes, just prior to sitting down to make this post, to sit out on my deck and listen to the wind blowing through the trees of my Olympic-sized backyard. I felt it gently turn my thoughts and speak of things which have long lain silent and forgotten.

I will return soon enough.

Until then, I remain respectfully yours,

Teachinfourth

Let it rain

Pin It My head is full of reflections tonight; these tumble about in my head like the crystalline rushing of a mountain stream over a bed of smoothly-worn stones of thought.

I’ve come to realize just that life is much too short to live in apprehension, cowering with the fear of rejection, and listening to the whining of that little incessant voice in the back of our minds which whispers, “You just can’t do it.”

Who’s to stop me?

Probably just me, after all, I’ve done it numerous times before. I’m good at it too…too good to be exact.

The waters rush on as I stare at my computer screen tonight. As I do, I realize that there will be so much more to consider in the waters, what with the oncoming of the rain in the distant mountains.

Luckily, I do have an umbrella.

Let it rain.