These inconsequential things.

Just recently I went from being so incredibly busy to having virtually nothing of great importance to accomplish. My day somewhat revolves around caring for my garden, but since they are in grow boxes they don’t need to be weeded, and I only water them once a day. I do spend a fair amount of time staring at them just to make sure they look okay. So, since this is typically the height of excitement for my day I have been able to have some experiences that many would probably consider mediocre but really turn my day into an adventure.

1. Bugs. All of the sudden I have a heightened awareness of creepy crawlers.  They. Are. Everywhere. Just last week one had the audacity to enter into my home with me just mere feet away. It just hopped its way up the steps from the garage and was enjoying a little stroll around my entryway. Now, I can’t blame the creature for coming inside. Since this incident of the door turning phantom on me and locking me out, I keep it propped open when I water my flowers since the hose spout is in the garage. Anyhow, the bug must have realized it sat in the shadow of my shoe because it scuttled it’s way into the closet. And all women know that there is no way we are going to open that closet and engage in a human vs. bug war. So I did the most logically thing possible. I barricaded it in that closet. And I checked on it frequently throughout the day just to guarantee it didn’t muscle its way out of my barricade.

When Brandon did kill it, it felt rather anticlimactic. He said something like, “Is the bug this little cricket?” He let me examine it as it swirled down the drain while I swore that it was bigger and more beetle-like, and it must be a new breed that can transform itself to whatever the bug hater most despises-like a boggart of bugs. I am still avoiding that closet, sure that the real creature I saw scuttle in there is still lurking in the corners.

2. Brandon and I went on a fine little walk yesterday. The typical rainstorm had already blown its way through our neighborhood leaving a cool breeze that slightly whipped your hair and that very best summer rain smell. But the finest thing it left were the clouds. They sat on top of each other, rolling across the sky, reflecting the last rays of sun as it dropped below the Rocky Mountains. It felt like they knew they had work to be done elsewhere, but they were totally complacent right where they were, giving a show to the spectators below. It was these clouds that persuaded me to end our walk early and grab my camera. They posed for me before they proceeded to their next performance.

    3. Lastly, these babies. 

      Watching things grow could be the most rewarding thing ever. So many things become clear to me as I think about the cycle of growing and progressing. I can’t even fathom how spectacular it must be watching that progress in a child. Life, in all its many forms is just simply miraculous. 

      I am very aware that these adventures don’t feel extraordinary, but I believe it’s in the little things that greater things become manifest.  I wouldn’t trade all my little moments for one big moment, unless that moment involved meeting Celine Dion. So, here’s to reveling in those little inconsequential things. Have a most fabulous week!

That time I became a carpenter.

When I move into a new place I go somewhat comakazi in the decorating department. I walk in and I see all of my “For the Home” Pinterest boards coming to life. Brandon sees trouble.

The first thing that I wanted to add to our humble abode was an entry table. I’ve never had one and they always look so endearing and welcoming. We scourged the isles of the furniture monstrosity also known as Ikea, which is an adventure in itself. It left us tableless so we traipsed through Target, frolicked through Furniture Row, and hustled through Hobby Lobby. To no avail a cute entry table was not to be found. I had a pretty specific area it needed to fill, and an idea in my head that it needed to live up to.

What I did tumble into was a website outlining how to build your own table, and that's exactly what I decided to do. You can visit said website here. She didn’t give specific instructions, so it made it a little tricky for me, especially since this was my first time ever building a table. Because I am feeling generous, and I’m downright proud of my accomplishment, I will give you some basic instructions and photos if you would also like to become a carpenter as well.

Happy building!

Supplies:

Wood Glue

Hammer

Nails

Sander

Stain

Paint

Paint brushes

Gloves

Tape Measurer

Cute little knobs (I got mine from Hobby Lobby)

The Wood:

Table Top: 1” (thickness) x36” (length) x17.5”(depth)

Legs: I bought 2 2x2’s and had the nice man at home depot cut them in 31” lengths

Front/back: 2 1x6 pieces cut 31.5" long

Sides: 2 1x6 boards cut 10" long

Bottom supports: 2 2x2’s cut 31.5” long and 2 more cut 10” long.

Bottom Slats: 5 1x6 boards 12” long

Drawers: 3 1x4 cut inch 8” lengths

1. Put the legs, sides, and back piece on top of the top piece. Make sure that when you glue them all together they touch. This was a little tricky. At first I glued then put the back piece in and it was waaay off. I had to gauge it all then glue again. I did measure it to make sure it was even all around. 

2. It needs to dry for about an hour before you can nail it in. While it's drying put together the front piece. 

3. Sand down the front piece and the drawers. Glue them on and let them dry. 

4. When everything is dry nail them all in. I included my handy husband in this part. He's a much better nailer :)

 You can see that we put two nails in each side. This helped make it extra sturdy. 

5. Now it's time to work on the bottom part. Glue the bottom 2x2 supports about 5 inches up from the ground. Like with the top part, make sure they are all nice and snug. You don't want any gaps in those. Let them dry for an hour or so.

6. Then nail those suckers in. 

7. Place the slats evenly on the 2x2 supports. Glue them, and once they're dry nail them in. When everything is nailed in give the table a good sand. Take off those rough edges and get it paint ready.

8. Stain away!

 I stained the entire table, but later realized this was totally unnecessary. 

 9. I chose to paint the entire table, except for the top, white. The paint was a little too shiny and thick for my tastes-but there was no way I was going to Home Depot again.

10. Let the paint dry, add the knobs, then wa-la! Let me present the table.

One of the reasons I wanted a table so bad was because we didn't have anywhere to keep our keys. They were scattered everywhere and it was driving me crazy. 

And there you have it folks, a homemade entry way table. It was the little adventure to build, and something exciting and different to try. And really, it wasn't too hard. Have fun becoming a carpenter.

Thoughts in a garage.

The other day I found myself in my new garage for an extended period of time. Not by choice, of course. The door turned phantom on me and locked me out—for real. Instead of doing practical stuff like organizing the garage (which is obviously a man’s job) I hopped in the Honda and felt terribly sorry for myself.

I did all the logical things to try and get myself back in, obviously. I strolled up the street and borrowed some complete strangers phone to call Brandon. I tried hoisting myself up onto our patio on the second floor, I even brought a ladder around and tried it. To no avail, I was locked out.

This same sort of thing happened right when we moved to Boise. I had gone on a run, locked the door on the inside, and took a new key copy with me that I had just made at Home Depot. When I got back I realized my new key didn’t work. That time I was at least stranded with my phone and shoes, and Brandon rescued me quickly after. This time I had my garage, all of its contents, and a car. No keys but a car. I am thinking it must be some sort of new house initiation process you must go through. Anyhow, I found some paper and a pen in the car and recorded my thoughts, because I am an English teacher by trade, and you can’t help but record these types of experiences. And also because when you have over two hours in a garage you have a lot of thoughts. Here you go:

1. The lady up the street must think that a total hippie has moved in. Lady I promise I do typically wear shoes, and I don’t always wear tie-dye. And there is usually not this much dirt under my nails I’ve just been busy planting a garden on my patio. (Maybe that doesn’t help my hippie case.) But, can I use your phone? My carrier pigeon is out delivering a message and hasn’t returned…

2.  Maybe I should pull down my clarinet and play a sprightly tune for our new neighbors. What better way to announce to the neighborhood that we’re new and that the fun has truly arrived? Besides, I’ve heard that clarinet jigs are all the rage these days.

3. Good thing my yarn tote has made it to Denver. Maybe I should crochet the nice lady up the street a beanie for her baby. I am sure that would solidify any previous impression she’s had of me thus far.

4. Is there actually someone in my house that turned the lock? I’ve never encountered a phantom door handle before. If so, I hope he/she unpacks the office. It’s an utter disaster.

5. Bladder control yourself.

6. Why did I leave my Harry Potter book playing? Faintly hearing Jim Dale's voice could possibly be the worst bit of this all. Jim, can’t you just speak up?

7. How long has this Twix bar been in here? It doesn’t taste right...

8. I hope Brandon enjoys the message I left on his voicemail, “Hello. Well, I am locked out. Don’t worry about calling back. But maybe it would be nice if you got off a touch early today. Okay, well I’ll be in the garage.”

And you can tell that I obviously got back in. Along with it I got this great story. But, now I feel like this really is home since I was able to survive the locked out initiation process. At least it’s not like find a big rat in your house initiation process. I consider myself pretty darn lucky :)

Have a fantastic Friday!

A big ol' Boise goodbye.

The last time I wrote something on here it was an ode to teachers and their dedication to the cause of choosing to make a difference in the lives of millions. I had just entered into my first year of teaching with gusto. Now, there are three days left. Seriously three day.

Just three days with the kiddos that have utterly consumed my life. When people ask me how I feel about the ordeal I am quick to say that I am pretty ecstatic that this school year has come to an end. I cannot wait to have a day, a weekend, even a few hours where I am not constantly worrying about school and about these young people. But I know in a few weeks I will sure be missing them, and I don’t think I will ever see them again. Which makes me sad.

And why won’t I ever see them again? Well, we are moving. We are closing the chapter of our time here in Boise. We have absolutely adored this town. Above everything we have adored the people we’ve met and the friendships we made. We feel so lucky to have known such incredible people here. We hope that those people feel so inclined to visit us in our new town, especially because we know virtually no one. (Just a public plea that our door is always open).

We are trekking over to Denver, Colorado; in fact Brandon is already there. It’s a somewhat bittersweet experience. On one hand we are pretty thrilled to be out of the college life. It was something to see Brandon walk across the stage as he received his Masters degree in Business Administration. He looked all official and just dang cute. Plus, he worked so incredibly hard.

But on the other hand we are really going to miss this place. Just yesterday I went on one of our favorite little hikes, and I left feeling pretty sad. That could be the last time I do it. In fact, whenever I do something I think, “This will probably be the last time I do this in Boise.” It’s quite a depressing thought, and I should probably stop.

These lasts are even making me see weeds in a different light. Never before have I taken so many weed pictures and thought, "Now, that is a breathtaking weed. I must capture it's breathtaking-ness." 

Even now I just finished my dinner picnic style, spreading everything out on my living room floor using a green camp blanket, since all of our stuff is already packed up. I ate foods that I know Brandon would not consider a dinner, but wishing the whole time he was here with me. I even would have thrown in some meat if it meant he could be here instead of there.

Extra points if you can guess what movie I am watching while enjoying this non-Brandon approved dinner.

I think this is all a part of growing up, which I knew would happen someday. We can’t always live in never ever land. And I don't mean to sound so morose, but I've just loved our life here, and I am a little afraid of change. Mostly afraid that things won't live up to these expectations I have. 

But, I am also all about grand adventures, and I think this one might be our grandest yet. Wish us luck with this new chapter, or season (I think season doesn’t sound so dramatic), of our lives. Oh and expect to be hearing from me much more, since I will have a touch more time on my hands ;)

Kind of a mess of a post about being a teacher.

I have wanted to talk about my new profession as a 6^th grade reading and writing teacher for quite a while now. But blogging kind of falls towards the bottom of my priority list. In fact, I am still fishing things out of unpacked boxes from when we moved back in August. Also, I haven’t touched a vacuum, toilet scrub brush, or any cleaning equipment since I moved back. Awesome right? I can count on two hands (almost) the number of home cooked meals we’ve had that I‘ve made, and on another hand how many times I’ve done the laundry. So the fact that I’m even writing this feels like cheating, but here I go anyways. Since I infected Brandon with who knows what from that school of mine our bedtime was unusually early for a Friday night, which brought me here because as much as I want to, 9:30 is just too early for me.

I have had such mixed feelings about teaching that I can’t quite seem to put them down. And I suppose the round about objective of this post is to send a colossal thank you to all those noble teachers I’ve had, because I’m starting to get it. Because now I can see behind the scenes and along with everything else I feel, I feel bad for the grief I caused those poor souls.

Because here’s the thing, some, no most days I absolutely love my job. I adore the young people I work with. I come away feeling that I just did something really great and gallant and that I am achieving my life long goal of making some kind of difference somewhere. Those days make it worth it. Those are the days that I went into this profession for. Those are the days that I thought I’d have everyday. (Insert hysterical laughing here).

Then some days I want to throw in the towel. I sit myself down in my old, peeling, green wheelie chair, the one with the broken armrest, and have a good pity party that every now and then involves a tear or two, because after everything I’ve done, it still wasn’t enough.  After the 3 hours spent after school and 3 hours spent at home, and the worrying and planning and just the utter consuming-ness, it flopped.

And I realize I can’t get that involved. I need some separation. But this is my life right now. I feel so burdened and responsible for these children and I care so much. I worry constantly, thinking of ways I can make it better for them. Ways I can help them be better. And I know that’s not my job, but whose job is it? Someone has to do it. So I assume that duty because that’s what’s right and good.

So when my 14-hour day goes unnoticed and I feel like I’m a zookeeper, rather than a teacher, I just have a hard time bringing myself up again and going again. Enduring another day.

But when I see a good thing I said or did sink into their minds and grow into something worthy and right, something that they are proud of, I feel like I’ve won more than I’ve ever lost. When they say they finally get it, that is makes sense, I want to scream and shout, and let it all out. It makes me so proud to be their teacher, and so, so proud of them.

I suppose it’s those moments that make up for it all. It’s those moments, sometimes small and unnoticed, that balance out the amount of time and effort I’ve dedicated to this cause. It’s those moments that pushed my own teachers to endure one more day, because they saw the bigger picture and the importance of it all. So, as you ponder on the person you’ve become, please don’t forget the teachers. I'm sure, at least once, they helped you become YOU, which is kind of a big deal.