A first x 3

Today I thought I'd try to enjoy the winter wonderland via a nice little run.  I bundled up in my warmest running gear and after arguing with myself for about thirty minutes, decided there was no time like the present and headed out the door to try running in the snow.  The road had been scraped earlier in the morning and the snow pack on the shoulder hid the lip of the pavement.  I rolled my ankle about three times before deciding to run further in the road where it was clear I wouldn't "fall" off the edge of the road.  The problem was that the snow on the middle of the lane was packed down.  Icy.  Slippery.  I didn't get far before my feet involuntarily did the cha cha, and I was nearly planting my face in the snowy road.  I caught myself on my palms and a knee and was back up and running.  I made it to the end of the road and started on my way back to the house.  I got just a few yards up the road, and if you can imagine a Tom and Jerry scene where Tom is trying to get his feet under him to chase Jerry - his feet are going, his body is stretched to the max, and he's going absolutely nowhere - that was me.  Then I made it four steps.  Then I fell flat on my butt.  I have never ever fallen before while running, and this was my second fall in less than thirty minutes.  The fun didn't stop there.  After slip sliding around for another mile, I managed one more butt plant in the snow.  At that point I was so mad that I hit the snow to punish it for my frustration.  To any on-looker it was something like a gay-man slap.  "You stupid snow!  Bad, bad snow!"  Very convincing, and tough, and effective. 
I made it without any other incidents.  I don't plan on trying that again.  The end. 

Snow Day

Yesterday was 46 degrees and sunny.  Today we woke up and it looked like this:

I was starting to think they were making things up about snowy Maine winters, but we might have a white Christmas after all.

Russ St. Clair

Ross and I helped Martha and Phil decorate their Christmas tree this year.  We were going through the ornaments and found a family of snowmen with names painted on each.  Phil...Martha...Liz...Russ.  Russ!?  What the heck? 
Martha tried to play innocent.  "I thought it said Ross."  "Ross is a hard name to find."
Ross is not very impressed, but she did have a good point.  He wouldn't have ever noticed if I hadn't pointed it out, but now that he does know, you can bet he won't ever let her live it down.  That's how Russ rolls.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Christmas Vacation and Merry Christmas to all.  I'd like to do a little happy dance for fourteen days of sleeping in past 5:00am.  I'd also like to tap my toes to not having to pre-pack a lunch or breakfast or snack from now until January.  And if I may, I will sing a little song to celebrate not having to pick out running clothes, PE clothes, and more running clothes before I go to bed at night.  Ahhh, I love this part of my job no matter what school I'm at. 
Let's do a little comparison of my old job and my new job. 

High School                                     vs.                                   Elementary School

Constant battle against swearing                                               Swearing isn't an issue
Constant battle against cell phones                                            Cell phones aren't an issue
Constant battle to get them to dress-down                                Dressing down isn't an issue
Students tell me I'm an F****** B****                                   Students tell me I'm "so pretty"
Students want good grades, but don't want to do the work        Students work hard and bring me presents
Most students hate PE                                                              Most students love PE
Most students hate to run                                                          Most students hate it if I don't let them run


I'm digging my new job.  Elementary students really help my self-esteem.  Watch out friends, my large head is almost to the breaking point.  I walk into the cafeteria at the elementary school and feel like a celebrity.  "Mrs. St. Clair!"  "Hi, Mrs. St. Clair!"  "It's Mrs. St. Clair!"  That's right, I've got these kids fooled.  They all think I'm cool.  I just wish I could convince the rest of the world. :) 

Kindergarten tales

They kill me, the kindergartners.  They just don't operate like the other kids.  They're still learning how to "do" school at this point, and I'm still learning how they operate.  The little guys love to hear themselves.  They come stomping into the gym because they like seeing how loud they can make their steps.  We only have them for fifteen minutes, so I want to make the most of my time with them.  I noticed one of the kindergarten teachers dealt with the loud feet in her class by telling them they sounded like elephants and she wanted them to sound like kittens.  Immediately, they softened their footsteps to mimic the light steps of cats. 
That day, when I lead my second kindergarten class into the gym, I decided to mimic her instructions.  Only I forgot she had said "kitten" and I said rabbit instead.  They're quiet, right?  Almost immediately, I had 24 kindergartners hopping like rabbits in a single-file line behind me.  "Hmmmm," I thought, "that's not quite right.  Kittens!  Walk nice and quiet like kittens."  I turned and continued leading them to the front of the gym, but checking on their status behind me, I found that one after another, the entire line was dropping to all fours, mewing and walking like 'kittens.' 

Oops.

Evidently, their teacher hadn't used the same kitten analogy with them.  I laughed.  I couldn't help myself.  And I couldn't bring myself to correct them.  Next on the agenda, teach kindergartners how to walk quietly on two feet like kittens. 

Kindercrazies

Kindergartners.  They look like little people, but they are wired a bit different.  A lot different.  I am finding it more challenging learning how these miniature people work than any other grade level.  They are very busy, have lots of energy, are easily entertained, and are very, very literal. 

My first couple of days went like this:  "Okay class, sit on your squad dot and I'm going to call your names.  Raise your hand and let me know if you're here."  Immediately, 24 hands shot up in the air and 24 voices were raised in competition to let me know they were indeed there.  "Wait, wait, wait," I said, "when I say your name you can raise your hand.  Just one at a time." 

"Faith."
Faith raised her hand, and 24 voices said "She's here!"  Wow.  Thanks guys. 

I've stopped taking roll out loud.  When I do, it goes more like this.  "If I call a name, I only want to hear the voice of the person whose name I call.  I should only hear one voice.  Nobody else should speak.  It should be quiet except for the person whose name I call."  Was I specific enough? 

"Faith."

Faith says here and I only hear two other voices besides her's.  We're getting better. 

The other thing I've learned with kindergartners is, you don't ask them if they have any questions because they all do, and most or their questions A) don't have anything to do with the activity or your directions, and B) are really comments and stories.  A comment out of one student, leads to comments out of 15 other students that may or may not have anything to do with the original comment. 

Kindergartners are a breed of their own.  I'm not sure I will ever really understand them, but I've got about six more months to figure this batch out before we start all over with a new group.  :)

I.O.U.

It's only been two months.  Not much has happened.  I really haven't had much to write about. That's my excuse.

So I'll start from October 31st.  That was the last day I worked at McKay, my first "real" job.  My first teaching job.  My weekday home during the past 5 years and 2 months.  I have to say that from a teaching stand point, it was one of my more enjoyable semesters. We were on a seven period day, I was teaching two classes of health, my class sizes were tolerable, and my students were pretty a pretty good group.  On the plus side, I left just as we were starting the sex-ed unit in health, the admin decesions and demands were...interesting, and my new co-workers were not Jessica and JJ. 

November 2nd I stopped being a high school PE teacher and became an elementary PE teacher, which isn't as big of a change as you might expect.  First graders and freshmen have a lot in common.  I love my new job.  I miss my friends and my sister and my nephew.  But I like going to work everyday, I like having people to run with, I like being close to my parents...like in the same house...again.  Most of all, I love living with my husband again.  I sort of like the guy, and the nine weeks leading up to this moment were rough.  I was pretty grumpy.  All the time. 

I have some pretty funny stories from my first few teaching days.  There has been a bit of a learning curve.  At some point I'll try to get these posted as well.  I've been told that it's mandatory for me to keep up my blog if I'm going to live in this part of the state.  (Stacy.)  I'll do my best. 

That's my story for now. 

Peace out.

EZ Orchards and the Q

I had the priveledge of going to EZ Orchards' pumpkin patch and petting zoo with my big sis and favorite nephew today.  Here's a little peak at what we did.

First on the agenda, greeting the animals.  He was a ham...Q was a ham.

 Where did his buns go?  Even with a diaper they disapear...not a good sign.

We checked out the pumpkin patch.

Q discovered mud puddles.

Then we all went home and lived happily ever after.

Updates

My priorities have shifted a bit since the school year started.  At the bottom of the list: cleaning my toilet (visitors be warned), washing and vacuuming my car (I think I have creatures nesting under my driver's seat and in my sideview mirror), folding laundry (there used to be a bed in the guest bedroom; I hope it's still there), and communicating with people I don't see on a daily basis.  Basically, the blog is suffering because I actually have to write lesson plans and grade papers this year at school.  I have yet to catch up.  It's not for lack of trying either.  Although, admittedly, going to bed between 8:10 and 9:00 every night doesn't help my dilema.  It just makes me a nicer person when that 4:55am alarm goes off.  Needless to say, work has not gotten boring.  Not even remotely.  There is no down time for boredom, and I like that feature about our new 7 period day.  I'm teaching health this year in addition to PE and Adaptive PE, so I'm learning a lot and being challenged in some new and mostly positive ways.  I will say that I don't like the challenge of being a traveling teacher, showing up to a room expecting to do a power point presentation, and finding that the computer has blown up.  Then, trying to compromise by writing out the days notes on the white board to find that the pull down screen is busted and won't pull up, leaving a space of white board 24in by 24in that only 1/3 of the class can see.  That bites.  But mostly it's been a good change of pace. 

It's only temporary, however.  For that, I'm also grateful.  My handsome and overtly immature (just had to keep his feet on the ground) husband, is working a mere four hours south of our home in Salem.  We see each other for about 35 hours (once you factor in cross country meets and church) every weekend.  This situation also bites.  And then some.  I hate it mostly. 

Luckily, the good Lord blessed us, and last week I was offered a job in Southern Oregon as well.  (Thanks to all of our family and friends who were praying for us and for this job opportunity to work out.  It means a lot, and I truely appreciate it!)  I'm super excited to be moving back to S. Oregon.  I've missed it for the last ten years, and I am so happy to be going home.  I am also excited and very nervous for the start of a new job - teaching elementary PE and coaching high school cross country and track.  I don't know yet when I get to head down there.  It could be anywhere from now and the end of November.  I do know that when I move, I'm going to miss living so close to my big sis, Ryan, and the Q.  I know I'll miss my friends a ton and my church, but I have to say, I can't wait to see Ross every evening and every morning again.  There's something about that boy... :) 

Is that all you've got?

One year, on our mission trip to Mexico with my high school youth group, we had so many things go absurdly wrong that it started being funny.  There was nothing to do but laugh at the situation.  We had a car wreck, our stuff stolen, two or three flat tires, our van got stuck in a puddle of sewage, and the list goes on.

That is what this school year has been.

 I'm to the point where I can't even be frustrated anymore.  I can only laugh at the absurdity of it all.  It would probably be unprofessional for me to post them on the WWW, but I will say that in our school and our PE department we've had more things go wrong and more set backs than you will probably find at any other dozen high schools in the state.  Each day it's a new and unexpected surprise.  I'm not sure what tomorrow will hold, but I will say this: Bring.  It.  On.

Where Was I?

The last thing I remember is picking blueberries and canning peaches with my sister and nephew.  Now, all of a sudden, I'm about to start week four of what has been a very crazy start to the school year.  The 100 degree weather tells me it's still summer.  The 5:00am wake-up calls and absolute lack of free time tell me the school year has definitely arrived. 

Ross is officially living with my parents, and I'm officially living with a 22-year-old roommate and a very gassy dog (like so gassy he is sleeping 20 feet away and I can still get the occaisional whiff). 

I've been extraordinarily grouchy already, so I felt like I should post a list of all the good things that are happening - a reminder to myself if nothing else. 

1) I have a job.
2) Ross has a job.
3) Ross has a good place to live during the week.
4) I don't have to be  home alone during the week. 
5) I teach with some pretty cool people. 
6) Our garden is starting to explode with produce.
7) I have three pumpkins twice the size of my head that are starting to turn orange.  
8) My car has air conditioning (Ross is not so lucky in this department).
9)  Ross' house has air conditioning (I am not so lucky in this department).
10) I have an ice cream sandwich in the freezer with my name on it, and the roommate just left, so I don't have to share!

My "Happy Place"

Toenails Are for Sissies

Cascade Lakes Relay (CLR) - Where good attitudes are mandatory and toenails are optional.


This past weekend was the Cascade Lakes Relay. This is the third consecutive year I have had the pleasure and pain of participating in the event. If you're unfamiliar with the CLR, it's a 12 person relay run covering 216 miles from Diamond Lake Resort to Summit High School in Bend. It's a blast, but it comes with it's challenges. This is how things went down this year.


Ross, my ever patient, immensely handsome* (Ross' edit) and accommodating husband, and I rolled into the resort following four hours of driving and two, count 'em t-w-o, McDonald stops. It was just before 7:00PM on Thursday evening. The rest of the team showed up about 40min later and we converged on the resort's conference room where a dinner was being held for the athletes and volunteers. We filled up on some delicious pre-race sandwiches and salads and headed to our rented cabins for a supposed night's sleep.

It quickly became apparent that sleep would allude us for most of the night. Four of us and a dog crowded into one little room and shut the door.

The door would supposedly create a sound barrier for teammate, Big Taco's, snoring. He was in another room with his door closed as well. It turns out we should have slept behind a closed door in a cabin across the road for that "sound barrier" to be effective. BT took snoring loudly to new heights, and I kind of feel like I need to commend him for a job well done.


(Big Taco, our fearless captain.)

As morning crept in, Ross crept out and headed to his volunteer station for the next six hours. The rest of us "slept" for another hour and a half and rolled out of bed at 6:45. We ate, showered, and headed to the start line to cheer on our teammate in the first leg of the relay. The mosquitoes were out in full force, and we were all anemic by the time we returned to the van. Waiting for our 8:00 start time, the "urge" hit me, and I had to find a port-a-potty in short order. Unfortunately, the same was true for about 200 participants who had earlier start times.

What I'm saying is, the Johns were cresting. My only recourse was to "hover" and hope the back-splash wouldn't reach me. For your information, I was successful.

On to the first exchange point. I was runner #2 and had a hilly ten mile leg to look forward to. As our first runner came into view, I decided to warm-up. Not really. That's what the first two miles are for. Right? (*Note: I do not endorse any of the training methods described in this post.) Our "baton" is one of those sweet slap bracelets that were popular in the early 90's. My teammate ran in, passed me the bracelet, and I was off. "Gross," I thought to myself. "She got this thing all sweaty." I ran a few hundred yards past the crowd of participants and realized my hand was still slick with her sweat...and chunky. "Sick!" I yelled, and wiped the goopy snot rocket residue off of my hand and onto my shorts. I pulled off the bracelet and proceeded to do the same with the inside of the band where some stubborn boogers were still sticking. For the next three miles I tried not to dry heave. All I could think about were the antiseptic wipes waiting for me in the van. I wondered if it would be wrong to ask for those instead of water when my team pulled along side of me. Eventually, the hill got the best of me and I stopped obsessing about my dirty hands and shorts.


Each of our runners made it through their first leg with no complaints beyond the heat, dust, and the freak swarm of grasshoppers that Big Taco encountered on the final quarter mile of his leg.




In Silver Lake, where Van 2 passes the baton to Van 1, the town's population tripled as all of the runners passed through. We stopped at the only restaurant, and as we finished our milkshakes and geared up for leg two, we met Cowboy Troy. His teeth were a little brown and his pants a little saggy, but the hat and boots were legit. He may have had a beer or four before coming out of the restaurant/bar/post office/gas station to be the town's official greeter. He was memorable.

Leaving Silver Lake, the scenery was absolutely gorgeous, and we were all in good spirits despite the continued blood loss. We saw cloud formations that looked like mountain ranges, real mountain ranges silhouetted by the setting sun, a comet or meteor blaze across the sky, a van stuck in a ditch, college kids sitting in a make-shift tee-pee on the side of the road, firefighters running with an American flag, pirates chasing booty, and horses carrying glow stick laden riders. Oh, and Big Taco dancing...interpretive dancing.



We made it through our second leg of runs by 2:00AM and headed to a saint's house to shower, brush our fuzzy teeth, and sleep for a couple of hours. I literally turned the shower water brown and brushing my teeth never felt so good. 4:30 came way too fast and we were up and off again. Our last legs of the relay were bitter sweet. It was sweet to be done for the day, but after anticipating this weekend for so long, we were a little sad it was over. Then we remembered "Margarita!" and realized we were not sad at all. Watermelon, cookies, pretzels, and grapes are tasty, but nothing beats a real substantial meal...and margaritas.

We paused to cheer on Van 2 and our studly ringer runner, as he raced to a course record time of 25:15 on an all uphill 4 mile time trial leg.

Then we headed to Bend to eat, drink, and try to stay awake until our final runner crossed the finish line.

Blistered toes, dust filled sinuses, sore muscles, sleep deprivation, why do we do this? You'd have to be there.

Rock on homies!!!

One Year Ago, Today

It seems hard to believe that Ross and I got married one year ago, today. In fact, it was just 38min from now, last August 7th, that my dad was walking me down the aisle. The details are still so vivid in my mind that it's hard to comprehend that the whole thing happened 365 days ago. It was truly the best day of my life. The days leading up to the actual ceremony were pretty unforgettable as well. Thank you so much to our friends and family for all of the time and support you gave us along the way and for making our wedding such a special and perfect day.

Birthday Wishes

To My Old Sister:


Happy Birthday to my sister.
If I spanked you,
my young hand would blister.

No candles for your birthday cake.
We knew a mess,
that flaming 30 would make.

Hopefully you had a good day.
If you didn't,
that boy is going to pay.

I think that's all I have to rhyme.
Happy Birthday,
we all had a great time!

Sincerely,

Your Much Younger Sister

The Story of How I Got Lost

Alternate title 1: How my 5mi Run Became a 10mi Run, and it Wasn't Because I Was Feeling Good
Alternate title 2: My What a Big Park You Have
Alternate title 3: Plenty of Common Sense, No Sense of Direction

Once upon a Tuesday in mid July, I went Christmas shopping. This has nothing to do with how I got lost, but I am hoping to impress people with my early jump on the holiday season. After spending lots of Ross' money, I headed to the Willamette Mission State Park where I paid $5.00 for the privilege of running on the park's trails.

I've been battling the early stages of tendinitis in my knee so I thought that the soft surface of the trails would be a good change of terrain, not to mention a nice change of scenery for me. I was limiting myself to 5ish miles for the same knee issue.

I started my run feeling good. I took an opportunity to run by the river to watch the cars get ferried across. I hadn't seen that before and was feeling pretty proud of my run choice. I got off the beaten path and on to some horse trails enjoying the solitude, the river, and the run itself. I was running a loop. I thought.

After my Garmin registered 5mi, I thought I'd better cut back to the parking lot on the next available side trail. Which is exactly what I did. Unfortunately, I didn't read any of the park maps along the rout. I didn't know that I wasn't remotely close to the parking lot. As I got deeper and deeper into the woods, the trail got muckier and the underbrush got denser. I started having to tip toe across the edges of the trail to avoid falling into the mud pits that had formed from all the bad weather and horse traffic. I was wearing brand new running shoes and wanted to protect them from being completely trashed after only my second run in them. That didn't last long. I finally lost my footing and sank my left foot up to my ankle. My right foot would follow suit a few hundred yards later. Trying to keep myself upright, I grabbed what must have been something along the lines of stinging nettle. My hand was burning from the nettle as were my shins where I ran into some blackberry briers. This was getting ugly.

Finally, I got to a split in the trail. I tried the first - dead end. I back tracked and continued down the other branch of the trail until it split again. I took the branch - dead end. Back to the main trail I kept pushing down but the underbrush was getting thicker. I really didn't want to turn back at this point because I figured I must be getting closer to somewhere. Dead end. I had no choice but to go back out the way I came. Insert "mad face" here.

Back on the main trail I decided to read the park map. Unfortunately, I can't read maps, and wasn't sure which direction I was going on the trail from the "you are here" star. It looked like maybe if I continued on this main trail along the farm fields, I might come to the main road. I tried it. It was a dead end. My legs were not happy, and I was not having fun anymore. I began backtracking on the original trail and kept reading each park map I passed until I could tell where I was and which direction I was headed. Eventually, I realized the next right should be a short cut back to the main park. I figured I was relatively close, but once I got up through the trees, I was running through a clearing surrounded by more trees. The clearing had bird houses staked every few yards in every direction, and until I got out of there, I felt like I was in a cheap horror film.

Finally, I found the path that would lead me back the parking lot. I took a pit stop at the river where I tried to scrub most of the mud off of my legs and shoes, then I squished back to my car, got in, and never looked back. And to think I paid money to do that. I may be tall, but I'm not very smart.

One Handsome Dude

How did


I get

so lucky?

My Favorites

These are some of my favorite pictures from Maine.

More Maine

Among the myriad of other things we did in Maine, one of our evenings was spent with some of Ross' high school friends. We were invited to their house for an alphabet dinner. This is something that I may have to replicate out here because it was pretty fun. The idea is that everybody has to bring a potluck type dish that starts with the same letter of the alphabet. Ross told me that this dinner was featuring the letter "K." K is not an easy letter to find recipes for. In fact many of my cookbooks don't even include a K section. We had to put our thinking caps on for this one. Ross' cap is a size 2XL because his head is huge. Just ask him.
We started throwing out K foods: "Kalarabi." "Keilbasa." "Klondike Bar" - that one was mine. Then, as luck would have it, I flipped through my July issue of Bon Appetit and found Korean style ribs (also called Kalbi) with Korean BBQ sauce, and said "Yes, yes, and yes!"

We bought the ribs, bought the ingredients for the bbq sauce, then called his friend to see what time we needed to show up, and it was at that point we learned that the letter was actually "H." How Ross got K from H, we're not really sure. He went back to check the original e-mail and sure enough, it said H there too. So instead of our Kalbi style Korean BBQ ribs, we brought hog ribs. Hot hog ribs.

They were a hit at least. Although, it's really not all that hard to compete with Hi-C, Hotpockets, and Hotdogs... :)

Fun in the Sun

Despite the fact that we're officially back in Salem, I have a few more Maine posts to write, so without further delay...


One of the biggest differences between Maine and Oregon is the overwhelming number of lakes that dot the landscape. One of the best ways to beat the heat and humidity of a July day in Maine, is to head to the most accessible body of water and jump in. We did the next best thing:


(Liz and fiance, George, dry.)


(George's blue steel pose.)


(Me, post inner tube baptism.)


(Captain Ross getting serious.)


(Phil, seriously rethinking his decision to put Ross at the helm.)


(Phil, likely plotting his revenge.)

All in all a successful trip, and a great day on the lake.

Thanks Phil and Martha!

Pizza Party!

I may have mentioned before that we're eating well here in Maine. One of the best things we've enjoyed is some homemade pizza. This isn't just any homemade pizza either - let me welcome you to Phil's Pizza Palace:

Ross' Stepfather, Phil, made this incredible wood burning pizza oven by hand. He created the oven's insulation with a mixture of straw and clay from his own garden. You burn a fire on the bricks inside the oven until it gets good and hot - like 500 - 600 degrees hot. That takes a good 1.5 hours, but then when that's done. It literally takes 3min to actually cook the pizza. It's absolutely delicious and the crust is perfectly crispy.
Here is the master at work:



And the master's side kick:






The finished product:




It's a good thing it cooks fast because it disappears about as quickly as he can cook them. I have a feeling I know what Ross' next yard project might be. :)

Hiking West Kennebago Mt.

It was a hot and muggy day - our last at the camp in Rangeley. We decided to get in one last hike, and headed to the West Kennebago Mt. trail head. I had just gotten out of the shower after my run and thought I'd wear jeans to avoid any more mosquito bites. Right now my legs look like I have a bad case of the chicken pox. At any rate, the pants seemed like a good idea until we were about 400 meters into the hike. At that point the muggy air and steep hike combined to make me a sweat slick from head to toe. There's nothing so comfortable as being sweaty in denim. Are you with me?

Here we are at the start. The hike ends at an old look out tower.


About 2/3 of the way up, there is a clearing where the Ranger's cabin used to stand. They've recently burned it down. All that's left is a pile of rusted metal and an old shed for firewood. Ross is standing in the clearing contemplating the rest of the hike.


This is how impressed I am with his "contemplation."



The tower.






The view. You can see New Hampshire and Canada from up there. The scenery was really beautiful, but pictures don't do it justice. That's my story.