So excited I could die! Absolutely die!

He he. I've got a secret.  I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.  That would be tragic.  Especially because I like you.  I also like chocolate.  That's just a side note for anyone who might be interested in sending some my way.  

Guess what?  Chicken butt!  You didn't actually think I was going to tell, did you?  No, that would be silly.  

Here's what I can tell you: my sister's website is up.  So if anyone is thinking about summer (like me) and dreaming of all the yummy fresh fruits and vegetables that are going to start appearing in the farmer's markets and fruit stands, if you wish you could have some right this very instant, you should check out her site, and think about signing up for one of her awesome canning classes. (Yes, that was a sixty-one-word sentence.)  Next year at this time you could be enjoying a summer-sweet peach out of the jar rather than these greenish tasteless things we have available now.  You won't regret it!  Visit http://www.thegoodjar.com. 

Don't be a doorknob!

Doorknob!  Was that an insult anyone else used about twelve years ago, or was that just a Rogue River thing?  Maybe it was just a Wright family thing.  We had a few of those, but I digress.  The real method behind my madness is to recount the details of spring break.  As the final day winds to an end, I have to remind myself that I really did just have a week to myself.  I know many of my friends/colleagues went out of town for the week - somewhere with a little less rain and a little more warmth.  I embraced the dreary week and blissfully put myself to work.  Maybe it was the paint fumes, maybe it was the nine hours of sleep a night, whatever the case, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  

This first one is a 'before' shot just so we can remember how they looked prior to being painted.  

The rest of these are 'after' pictures.  Yea for painted, clean doors and trim.  :)  

Mmmmm Meat!

**Note: Vegetarians beware, this blog contains disturbing images that are not meant to be viewed by animal activists or veggie lovers.  Continue at your own discretion.  

This is a love story.  It's the story of the love affair between a boy and his hunk of meat.  Let me introduce you.  

This is the boy (the one on the left.)  His name is Ross or Ross-hole depending on the context of the conversation.  

This is his hunk of meat.  It's a pig.  I think you've met him before.  He went by the name of Wilbur.

Ross isn't typically a morning person, but on the day of his love affair, he was up and rolling by this time:

It says 8:20, or at least it should.  That clock is never right.  It's pretty though, don't you think?  Ahem, back to the story.  So Ross is already rolling by 8:20.  The meat (which he rubbed with some kind of seasoning the night before) is chillin' like a melon on the counter, and Ross is in the process of cleaning and starting the smoker.  

Isn't he cute?...I mean manly (don't worry Ross, I meant manly).

Now the smoker is smoking and warming up, and here is a shot of our wood pile.  No, we don't have a wood stove or wood burning fireplace.  We have a barbecue, and that's it.  We have a winter's worth of wood in our back yard so we can smoke meat and stuff.  Cool. ;-p

This is Ross putting the finishing touches on Wilbur before he takes him out.  

Now Ross is making sure the smoker has enough wood.  He has to keep the heat inside the BBQ within a specific temperature range all day long.  I mean all day long.  This picture was taken closer to 4:00.

Here's a picture of little Wilbur roasting away.  Mmmmm, he sure smells delicious.  
Wilbur was getting a little too cooked on the outside, so Ross enveloped him in foil.  

This is how he looked when he was done.  I know you're probably calculating the carcinogenic content of this hunk of meat right now, but consider the next photo and rest at least a little easier. 

Ross removed the outer "crust" to reveal perfectly moist, tender, melt in your mouth pork.  (I'm sure it still has enough carcinogens from being smoked from 9:00 in the morning until 6:30 at night to kill a small child, but the fat and cholesterol will probably get us first.)

Then Ross proceeded to make a mountain of meat.
Still going....
Yeah, he was pretty proud of himself.  

Don't worry, I made sure we had a few veggies to go with our plateful of pork.  (Um, that is the leftover asparagus.  Don't judge me.)

Oh, but the meat was delicious.  We may just have a small amount of leftovers.  Enough to feed an army perhaps.  I'm not sure I'm willing to share....  

The Everything Girl

My sister is awesome...ridiculous.  I'm pretty sure she's actually a combination of both.  I don't think she sleeps for one thing.  How can she have time?  She does everything.  In addition to working full time, commuting at least an hour everyday, and running most mornings before work, she cooks like a mad woman - everything from scratch, sews her own clothes as well as gifts for other people, gives sewing lessons, crochets baby blankets, booties, and hats, cans every fruit and vegetable under the sun (which means she has to pick them, clean them, peel them, and chop them first), has a beautiful yard and garden, plays basketball, coaches basketball, and entertains friends.  Oh, and then there is the card making, scrapbooking, and canning class planning that she somehow fits in where she can.  Yes, I did say she's going to be giving canning lessons, so stay posted if your interested.  I'll attach the website when it's ready.  But really, is it possible that she's at least a little superhuman or at least a tad crazy?  Maybe we should have a vote...

Neener Neener Pumpkin Eater

Holy smokes, is it really spring break?  Why yes, I believe it is.  Does anyone else wish they were a teacher right now?  Just remember you have to take the good with the bad.  For example: dead computers (and I mean no longer will turn on dead), threatening texts, fighting boys, disagreeable administrators, parent-teacher conferences, sad sad sad life stories, and stinky locker rooms.   There's lots of good stuff though too.  For example: Spring break, Summer break, Winter break, good students, students bringing ice cream to their PE teachers, awesome co-workers, and badminton domination.  :)  Word.   

Fight! Fight! Fight!

High school boys with too much testosterone are dumb.  It's funny how the fights increase the closer we get to summer break.  We had a pretty good fight in our last class today.  Just thinking about it gets me fired up all over again.  The students were just starting to jog for their warm-ups and all of a sudden my co-star and I saw this flood of students B-line for the doors, like seeing a fight makes it okay for them to leave the classroom.  Fights make people stupid.  I headed out the doors behind the little lemmings, and tried to shoo them back into the class.  I thought a student teacher was dealing with the two boys who were fighting.  Silly me.  This 6'2" 185 pound guy wasn't trying to break them up per se, he didn't want to get hurt.  So instead he did what?  Stood there and watched?  I'm not really sure what was going through his head.  When I saw that he wasn't stopping the boys from punching each other in the head and destroying even more of their very few brain cells, I thought I'd better intervene.  I'll be honest, I didn't really want to get hit either, but I figured if I could get their attention, it might help.  I gave a solid blow on my whistle right in their ears and luckily for me, I don't think they really wanted to beat on each other any more anyway.  They stepped apart and I got in front of one.  Meanwhile, Jessica, who had been more successfully getting our students to return to the gym, bear hugged the other boy to keep him from doing any more damage.  I didn't even know she was there, I was totally focused on the boy I was blocking.  At any rate she took care of boy #1 and I took boy #2 toward the office while another teacher called security.  I don't know about Jess, but I was shaking mad.  Stupid boys for fighting.  They're typically really good students.  Stupid kids for instigating it.  I'd really like to punch them in the face for egging the other two on.  Stupid other kids for running out to watch and refusing to return to the gym.  Stupid student teacher for standing there like a big dummy and not doing anything to stop it.  Seriously, he was just standing there w-a-t-c-h-i-n-g it.  Oh, the joys of high school....

It's raining, it's pouring.

Rain, rain, go away.

The ground is soaked,

and I want to play.  

The grass is green and growing tall.

The mud is thick,

and no fun at all.  

I'm really tired of being cold.

I'm over winter.

It's getting old.  

Rain, rain, please go away.

I want some sunshine.

It's time to play!

The sound of music.

We are so lucky here at our home in Salem.  We are lucky because at our particular location we will never ever have to worry about experiencing an awkward silence, or any silence for that matter.  With the neighbors we have, we will always be blessed with a menagerie of musical selections beyond anything I could have bargained for.  Currently, we are listening to a gifted Mariachi band.  Mind you it's winter, and all of our windows and doors are shut.  Tight.  Still, we are blessed with the sound of music.  All of the songs on this particular CD follow the same beat.  Da da da da do do da da da da do do.   Maybe they're playing the same song over and over, it's hard to tell.  That was the case this summer.  I almost had it memorized, and it wasn't in English.  Somebody really liked to sing along to that one (somebody who wasn't me).  He was belting it out earlier tonight when I was outside too.  I wonder if he knows we can hear him over the fence.  Rock on neighbors, rock on.  

Grandma Words

Unless you're over the age of 68, these words should not be uttered. We all know about four-letter-words, but here's a list of no-no's of a different variety. This list is not exhaustive, but a good starting point. Please feel free to make additions.
Don't say it!
Fanny
Toosh (sp?)
Tinkle
Bosom
Pantie
Pantie-hose
Piddle
brazierre
Colonoscopy - not that it's a grandma word, but do you really want to be in any kind of conversation where that word is being used? I didn't think so.

Dodge This!

Friday is dodgeb...ahem, coneball day at McKay.  Last week we didn't have students on Friday, but Thursday was feeling very looooong by the time 7th period rolled around so we decided it would be a good idea to roll the balls out.  I had been pretty nasty sick, and was thankful for the chance to sit back and referee.  My "co-star" decided to jump in and play...help one of the teams.  While I was sitting and watching, I noticed that one of Harvey's students was kind of lurking in the background not far off the wall.  It was a "special" student so I decided to check on him.  We'll call him, Jack.  Jack doesn't like Mrs. Harvey.  In fact he hates her.  He regularly hurls insults her direction and tells her how much he hates her.  Mrs. Harvey was playing on the team opposing Jack.  Do you see where this is going?  I asked Jack if he was out.  He was holding a ball, talking to himself, and was standing near the wall.  "No, I'm waiting for someone."  He reminded me of Gollum, from the Hobbit.  He held tightly to the ball talking under his breath.  "I just need a clear view.  Not that I can hit her.  I can't throw anyhow."  But he tried, oh how he tried, and Mrs. Harvey caught it.  Which fueled the fire.  Long story short, class ended, but Jack still hadn't got his.  He found one more ball, ran straight up to Mrs. Harvey who was putting the equipment away, and said, "Hey, teacher!"  Then he threw the ball at her point blank.  "Finally, I hit you!" And he ran away.  The incident struck her as so bizarre she couldn't even get mad.  

You know he slept well that night.  

Knock! Knock!

Whose there?

New doors!

Yay for dads who can do pretty much anything house related, and for boyfriends and brother-in-laws who pitch in to help.  I'm spoiled.  Yes.  

This is the dad.

And this is the dad.

And this is a door (without the trim).

And this is a door knob installed by one of the boys - works like a champ.  :)

Closet doors.

A door with the trim.  

Yep, lots of fancy doors.  Didn't manage to get pics of the boys, but I promise they were there and working. 

The loneliness of the long distance runner...

These are just a few snippets of conversation I heard during track practice today.  (These are college boys, mind you.)  

Conversation #1

Boy 1: I have my goatee in a bag.  

Boy 2: What?  Why did you keep your goatee.

Boy 1: I had it for a long time, I'd grown attached.  When I cut it off, I saved it in a bag.  

Gross!

Conversation #2

Boy #1: Have you twins ever fought?

Twin #1: Yeah.

Boy #2: Who won?

Twin #1 and Twin #2: I did.

Boy #1: You guys probably tied, you probably did all the exact same moves.

Twin #2: No, I'm more of a street fighter, he's more tae kwon do.  All I need is a metal cage and a chair.  

Boy #2: A Lazy Boy?

Twin #2: Yeah, I just spin it around and pull the foot rest...

And that, my friends is why long distance runners are lonely.  

Breakfast is my first love...(sorry Ross)

I love breakfast.  Really, it is the greatest meal.  Plus, it's good all day long.  You can have cereal for a midnight snack and enjoy it just as much again the next morning.  

My numero uno is oatmeal.  I like it with a little brown sugar, a little peanut butter (so it sticks to your ribs better), a handful of frozen blueberries or canned peaches (the real deal, not the store bought variety), and a splash of milk.  I go to bed looking forward to eating oatmeal when I wake up. :-p  That's a true statement.  I eat it every morning and have since I lived with my sister and brother-in-law.  I can eat a bowl the size of my head in about 45sec.  I used to always finish before both Shae and Ryan until they started trying to sabotage me by putting more in my bowl than either of theirs or by making me talk about something random.  Before I'd realize what they were up to, Ryan would finish his bowl off.  My days would always go south from there.  I'm not competitive.  I just wanted to win.  

Beyond oatmeal there is delicious breakfast burritos, coffee cakes, quiches, omelets, and pancakes.  The problem with these foods, is I have more trouble making them come out looking right than any other of the dishes in my repertoire.  I should have taken pictures of the first batch of pancakes I made tonight, they looked more like dough balls and less like flat spheres of strawberry and blueberry wonderfullness, which was what I was going for.  My strawberries were too big, my pan wasn't hot enough, my cakes weren't cooked well enough, and my flipping skills were a little out of practice.  Enough said.  I have similar issues with eggs and omelets, and I usually can't fold my burritos.  But oatmeal, it's hard to mess up a good bowl of oats.  I've done it before, don't get me wrong, but it's definitely hard to do.  I'm pretty talented that way.  Sometimes I think toast and cold cereal might be more to my ability level.  I've burnt toast though, so I guess that's out too.  

Next time I'll have to include pictures of my foibles.  I ate the pancakes, and despite their outward appearance, they tasted okay.  I just kept the lights turned off while I was eating.  In my defense, batch #2 was a little more successful, but then I had to go one more round and forgot to grease the pan.  That's my favorite trick.  Consequently round 3 looked a lot like my first attempt.  What can you do?      

My stomach hurts.  I think I ate too much...