tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82324856757638668412024-03-04T21:30:14.855-07:00The Blonde BulldozerThe Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-83967705721367759632018-06-29T20:16:00.002-06:002018-06-29T20:22:18.428-06:00Flippin' CAR CRUD!<br />
<a href="https://i.chzbgr.com/full/5271685632/h92594760/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for car maintenance funny" border="0" class="irc_mi" height="256" src="https://i.chzbgr.com/full/5271685632/h92594760/" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></a>What is it about car maintenance that makes me feel SO completely and frantically upside down?<br />
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During this past month, I have had two very distinct situations that have literally made me want to peel my own skin off...<br />
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Let me preface this post by stating, I drive a Chevy Tahoe. I have had 3 and loved each and every one of them. My first was emerald green, the next silver, and this one luxury and charcoal grey. As I think about my 2011 "trusty steed" - I think of all the journeys we have made together and the many many memories that Fisherman and I have made in this "car". It has successfully hauled many things - groceries, fishing "stuff", my favorite 3 little peeps, my parents, Fisherman's family, friends, to destinations with narry a peep out of it. It was purchased 2 weeks after my beloved Grandmother passed away and carried my Mom and Grandfather to and from California (fighting LA traffic, to boot), with tears, and provided a means for my Gram's brother to grieve her loss with those who loved her.<br />
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Over the last 3 weeks, my valiant steed (which I think can sense that I am committing "car adultry" by looking at other vehicles) has been cause for consternation. As Fisherman and I took the car in to have the tires rotated and balanced - the clerk at Costco called us and and said "Mr. Fisherman, we cannot in good faith, rotate these tires again...they are showing too much wear and uneven wear at that." Initiate total ugly crying in the middle of Costco. What made it worse is that Fisherman was so great about it. He tried to comfort me and keep my head from completely blowing off my body and having to scoop me up, like so many small puddles before. "Babes, it is ok...we will be ok. It is car maintenance, it has to be done." So, at a cost of a small island, new tires were put on.<br />
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When we went to pay, the clerk said "Mr. and Mrs. Fisherman, you really should have the alignment checked out to see why there is such uneven wear." Issue ugly cry of the evening number 2! Fisherman had just talked me off the ledge and consoled me with a Costco frozen yogurt and NOW this!!! Is he trying to kill me?! I mean can the man <i>sense</i> that I am a puddled meltdown - and just sees "sucker" - but no, Fisherman is there...so it can't just be "take advantage of the blonde woman".<br />
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So we make the appointment, shuffle our entire world (Fisherman to work, me to work...etc.) and get the alignment checked out. It was wildly out of alignment and was now fixed. Slightly apprehensive, I set out the next day, finished with all my summer teacher-y things, and headed NORTH. It ran beautifully. My new tires hugged the pavement and it rides very smoothly.<br />
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Finally, yesterday, I decided to treat my trusty to a "wash and set" so-to-speak. I ran to the Diamond Car Wash (they do a great job). They polished her up and I was ready to roll...dun, dun, dun {{ominous voice}} my mom and I were about to toodle off to shop 'til we dropped when *clank*, *thwack* *thwack* *thwack* - AAAAAAGH! WHAT THE HECK!?!?!?! I pull across the street and look all around the vehicle...and NOTHING. I get back in and *clank*, *thwack* *thwack* *thwack*! SERIOUSLY....AAAAAGH! I know that I cannot go further, I KNOW I need to know what is going on. Fisherman was still on summer school duty so I called my Dad (30 minutes out) and waited.<br />
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I could literally feel the nerves in my head M-E-L-T-I-N-G, like OH-em-GEE I think I am having a small stroke. I was dizzy.<br />
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I KNEW it was going to cost me thousands of dollars and the remainder of my sanity. FISHERMAN was not there to put the puddle back together and was dealing with some bit of summer school stuff and didn't even ANSWER THE PHONE. Lawdhammercy! My mom calls my brother...he is about 10 minutes away and answers the call.<br />
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He pulls in, and I just ooozed out of the driver's seat. My mom stayed in the car with him as he "Mario Andretti'ed it" up and down the street. He comes back after about 5-10 minutes, and says very calmly in his <i><b>loving</b></i> brotherly voice...<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">"Um...it would be helpful if you wouldn't use 4-wheel drive on the pavement...DUH!"</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">"I can write it down for you if you need - 2 wheel drive = pavement; steep, weather, mude = 4-wheel drive"...bwahahahahahah!"</span><br />
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My response..."Mother of all CUSS WORDS, and the GRATITUDE!"<br />
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Hallelujah! I've seen the light, I was at the abyss and was yanked back from oblivion. Everything was good, no FREAKING FANTASTIC!<br />
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Living to drive another day...<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-14291240306151655802018-06-25T19:36:00.001-06:002018-06-25T20:17:17.067-06:00Help a teacher out!What am I going to be when I grow up...said the little blog to the creator? After re-vamp number 3 here, and the smooth lines of the new blog, I find myself giddy with possibilities and topics that I want to discuss.<br />
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I started writing yesterday beginning down one vein and then I thought (or fell down the rabbit hole) I need to totally revamp this blog. Which leads me to my first topic.<br />
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During this past year I have been working (sweating, gnashing, pouring) on my National Board certification and it has overwhelmingly sucked up all my time. I am now done (all except knowing if I passed) - like STICK A FORK IN ME I'M DONE.<br />
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<span style="font-family: tinos;">So now, ta da, I am back on the bloggy circuit. WOOT! The NBCT work has inevitably caused me to reflect on my teaching, the state of teaching in general, education and the state of education in America.</span><br />
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This past year I watched as some of the bravest and most admirable teachers - those who have been a mentor to me through the years agonize the choice of defending the profession and demand that they are treated AS PROFESSIONALS. They made a very brave decision to walk out of their classrooms and hold those in leadership accountable for the state of education in America. <br />
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Teachers are the backbone of America. We in the throes of the educational upheaval broach the tumult with apprehension, joy, nausea, as well as necessity. Our students demand our very best, and we as the aging part of the population, should demand that the generation who will lead our future, have the absolute very best. We enable EVERY. OTHER. CAREER.<br />
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I have been pondering my profession as of late...let me restate...MY PROFESSION - and for those of you who are unaware teaching is a PROFESSION. We are required to have a degree, and maintain licensure requirements that differ from state to state, continually PROFESSIONALLY develop, we are held (some would argue) to a higher standard than even physicians (whom nobody would question as a professional). However, for some odd reason, since everybody has been to school at one time or another, they believe that they are a professional educator. </div>
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Let me draw a quick analogy - most people at one time or another have used a band-aid but would not call themselves a surgeon nor proffer opinions on the best method to reattach a severed limb; so, why do so many think they are experts in education because they <i><b>attended</b></i> school? Sure, I can address the needs of 6+ students on an IEP, know by heart that the focus standards of the CCSS are being met in lessons, use updated pedagogical strategies while documenting growth, and mastery; all while under the SCRUTINIZING eye of someone who thinks they have the silver bullet to education.</div>
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So, THIS summer like many others, I will confirm my allegiance to the multitudes of teachers who bravely find redemption and stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters and proclaim out loud "WE HAVE HAD ENOUGH". Here is what we know...<br />
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<li>We don't like testing anymore than students do - especially since our students are tested, to death.</li>
<li>We don't love having zero autonomy in our classrooms - trusted to be professional.</li>
<li>We don't like when we are punished collectively for the misdeeds of few.</li>
<li>We hurt when our students do.</li>
<li>We celebrate victories with students regardless of size or achievement.</li>
<li>We welcome evaluation where we can celebrate our students instead of hanging our head when students do not meet an arbitrary mark set by those who haven't a clue.</li>
<li>We welcome feedback but do not believe that everybody is an EDUCATION expert just because they went to school.</li>
<li>We are taking this time during the summer to re-charge, reclaim overtime put in during the year, educate ourselves, make-up lost moments to family, and yes...think about school.</li>
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So, if you see a teacher realize that they are angels on the good side of the fight. We love your kiddos, we will continue to love your kiddos and strive to make each one of them the warrior they are meant to become. However, if you are able, fund a classroom, volunteer, ask what you can do with your child, drop off a bag of Hershey's kisses (I promise they will be devoured with love), ask your student what they are working on - EVEN AT THE HIGH SCHOOL LEVEL, send a note to a teacher, value teachers like we value your student! AAAAAND for the love of all that is holy...don't forget about us in the upper grades...we love your kiddos too and we love to know that we are a part of the time honored sacred triangle - student, parent, teacher - working together to magnify the success of each student. </div>
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-60088225546240863382018-06-19T00:56:00.000-06:002018-06-19T09:05:35.806-06:00Love. <div style="text-align: left;">
What is it about love that makes us so stupid?<br />
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I believe that <i><b>love</b></i> is the single greatest thing that we as human beings get to experience. Studies have shown that all living things require love...ALL LIVING THINGS - which actually means that I talk and show LOVE to my garden and flowers in our home (it also means that Fisherman thinks he married a complete whack job because I do).<br />
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<a href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/41/85/37/418537e57c7376ebdba102a019a74c21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Related image" border="0" class="irc_mi" height="320" src="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/41/85/37/418537e57c7376ebdba102a019a74c21.jpg" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: move; margin-top: 0px;" width="195" /></a>I have been re-reading <i>The Five Love Languages</i> that everyone, <i>literally EVERYONE,</i> recommends. I, like everyone else, have read this and know <b>in my bones</b> that my love language is physical touch.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #3b3e3f; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Physical touch</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">To t</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">his person, nothing speaks more deeply than appropriate touch. That doesn't mean only in the bedroom — everyday physical connections, like hand-holding, kissing, or any type of re-affirming physical contact is greatly appreciated. A person who speaks the language of physical touch isn't necessarily an over-the-top PDA'er, but getting a little touchy-feely does make them feel safe and loved.</span></blockquote>
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<a href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/36/ab/1836abc003fc5cd65ea15700d8c1fdab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/36/ab/1836abc003fc5cd65ea15700d8c1fdab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/36/ab/1836abc003fc5cd65ea15700d8c1fdab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for acts of service love language" border="0" class="irc_mi" height="320" src="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/36/ab/1836abc003fc5cd65ea15700d8c1fdab.jpg" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="195" /></a>I feel SAFE both emotionally and physically. I experience LOVE through <b><span style="color: #a64d79;">CONTACT</span></b>.<br />
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Fisherman is the type of man whose love language is that of acts of service:<br />
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Acts of service<br />
For these people, actions speak louder than words. People who speak the language of service want their partner to recognize that their life is rough and help them out in any way possible. Lending a helping hand shows you really care. People who thrive on this language do not deal well with broken promises — <b><i>or perceived laziness — and have very little tolerance for people who make more work for them.</i></b> Basically, if you're not willing to show your appreciation by doing them a favor, you're saying you don't value them.</blockquote>
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I know further that his "sub" love language is that of service and knowing that the domestic part of our life is taken care of - meals, laundry, and that we are organized, de-cluttered, and our home is clean. He says that the latter two are "no big deal", but he walks in peace and is better able to be present and calm when these things are done.<br />
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Most of those who know Fisherman and I as a couple, know that we met through Match.com and to everyone's surprise (including my own), we are absolutely the right two people for each other. We are a matched pair. Do we agree on everything...um <b>NO</b>. Does he sometimes make me want to smother him with a pillow...um <i><strike>YES, </strike><b>NO</b>.</i> Do I frequently require more maintenance than a service station...um <b>NEVER</b> {{eye roll}}. Regardless, he and I just work.<br />
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I have been thinking about US recently, and the times where Fisherman and I have felt the most stress in our little marriage and home. This past year I spent month after month working toward getting my National Board Teaching Certification (details much, much, much later). Suffice it to say that I spent an enormous amount of time working on this to the neglect of our home and even at times to the neglect of the needs of my husband - which in turn lessens his ability to be my safety net. An epic cycle of continents drifting apart. It may seem imperceptible to most, but the crack in our planet has left me with a sense of unease - a feeling of emotionally unsafe.<br />
<a href="https://www.thedailypositive.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Love_Lenguage-745x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="5 Love Languages" border="0" class="aligncenter wp-image-6804 size-large lazy-load-active" data-src="https://www.thedailypositive.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Love_Lenguage-745x1024.jpg" height="320" src="https://www.thedailypositive.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Love_Lenguage-745x1024.jpg" width="232" /></a><br />
My relationship with my beloved husband is the single most important relationship in the entire world. It transcends a parent-child relationship, it transcends sibling relationships, and transcends even my very life. Even now, when I think about my husband, he takes my breath away and my heart beats faster. I realize how fortunate we are - we both know that our LOVE is a <b><i>gift</i></b>. It needs cultivation, it needs for us to tend the weeds that crash upon us like thunder, it needs for us to re-dedicate ourselves to each other and to be cognizant that our sense of self comes from the way we love each other.<br />
<br />
So, the big SO - so, with this knowledge I vow as I did five years ago and twelve years ago to love, honor and cherish this Fisherman of mine. I vow, that I will renew my commitment to him and find again what it means to be an honorable wife, partner, and LOVE.<br />
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-83103501667561218582017-05-18T11:49:00.002-06:002017-05-18T11:52:44.123-06:00Nerd SquadThis year, more than any other has been filled with tumult and what seems to be a sort of "managed chaos". <br />
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There is never enough time for grading, planning, working one-on-one with students, participating in the culture of the school, more planning, visiting family and friends, or even time for reading to my favorite little peeps.<br />
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etc.<img alt="Image result for teacher memes" class="rg_ic rg_i" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSz5AYF1U0s1HIphQWlf4v3l4GJrFNZWyCzia7Y0lAWgNdMMWKHJw" data-sz="f" height="150" jsaction="load:str.tbn" name="FnV_5xLoT_o1gM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSz5AYF1U0s1HIphQWlf4v3l4GJrFNZWyCzia7Y0lAWgNdMMWKHJw" style="height: 174px; margin-left: -23px; margin-right: -31px; margin-top: 0px; width: 231px;" width="200" /></div>
What I <i>have </i>made time for, however, is to really cultivate a solid group of women who are <b>smart</b>, <b>funny</b>, who <b>share in similar professional battles</b>, who sustain life with <b><i>chocolate </i></b>and <i><b>text messages</b></i>. <br />
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We have affectionately called ourselves the StormSquad, but we secretly are the ultimate NerdSquad and are proud of it. <br />
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Our sheer love of Bitmojis and having entire conversations of nothing but funny bitmojis, has propelled us from StormSquad into total Nerd-dom!<br />
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We collectively have made it through the rough days on campus where actual tears were shed. We have held and lifted each other through the illness and passing of a beloved colleague and friend, we have earned a master's degree, we have pushed children through another grade, we have sustained each other through deployments, we have buyoed each other when a phone call from a child's school has resulted in said child showing other children their heiney, we have talked through infertility, adoption and of course endless conversations about the wack-a-doodle things our husbands do to make us crazy, to make us happy, or to make us swoon.</div>
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We have "curriculum meetings" just to vent about particularly crazy days, we do paint parties and BBQ's, and time around fire pits. We send endless streams of chocolate from our stashes to one another and always share in the abundance of a class party.<br />
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Here is what I have learned. WOMEN NEED WOMEN. We need to know we are not alone. We, who are smart, need to know that is okay. We who fumble around and make mistake after mistake, need someone to share in the chaos and force us to laugh at our shortcomings. And, let's face it, we need each other for assurance that, YES!, all husbands are weird! Most importantly we need the chocolate!<br />
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I heart you NerdSquad and I look forward to many years friendship and folly! Long live the NERDS!<br />
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Toodles,</div>
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-51460077536578151442017-04-23T22:22:00.002-06:002017-05-18T11:50:59.422-06:00Marriage things.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Fisherman and I have almost been married for 4 years - it flies by, truly! Having known the big ol' blue-eyed Fisherman for almost 11 years now, there are some things that I have learned:<br />
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<ol>
<li>Wives will NEVER, repeat NEVER have control of the remote.</li>
<li>When entering Home Depot, Lowe's, or varied hardware stores of any kind their primal instinct takes over and they feel the need to explain everything - i.e., - "this is a hammer and is used for the hammering".</li>
<li>Dead (dirty) socks will NEVER end in a laundry basket. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>There is no end to the number of baseball caps that will end up on the kitchen counter or table.</li>
<li>Meat, with a side of meat, is perfectly adequate and COMPLETE meal.</li>
<li>Taking into account #1 - a conciliatory gesture seems to be an episode of "the Simpsons".</li>
<li>Any idea found on Pinterest is just...ugh!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>Although he has sat in a car in Alaska waiting for me to get my nails done, secretly men just cannot fathom the reason behind it. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI5SaNHKF_m4xZeAajYj5KUk3I8soGy1v5B2BnhxqKQGiNIO_rE55MWjhvvumSy7u6RRGiWiIm_XUtrPux7OdbwWxN8K-wBkDzkerpKq_Sr7Q6X8k7-jvPKQZB8EfcKlRkc60U5vPWOp5/s1600/51416296852__1E948993-9E6A-4ABD-9B46-2E98839DCD52.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI5SaNHKF_m4xZeAajYj5KUk3I8soGy1v5B2BnhxqKQGiNIO_rE55MWjhvvumSy7u6RRGiWiIm_XUtrPux7OdbwWxN8K-wBkDzkerpKq_Sr7Q6X8k7-jvPKQZB8EfcKlRkc60U5vPWOp5/s200/51416296852__1E948993-9E6A-4ABD-9B46-2E98839DCD52.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI-lr5JeF7W4Mjw2Pq3jVErRLTKX0MolM7ZPZB89a1gT6ygZdbFMCgyczcymXxK6DLfNNpfFKJ7gOPRG80qrqQnFjI975Tt_DPmzndjxxg9h6Wt6bEsyi2i_KpcUwCjB_nQs_7p6H7zH-/s1600/IMG_3663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI-lr5JeF7W4Mjw2Pq3jVErRLTKX0MolM7ZPZB89a1gT6ygZdbFMCgyczcymXxK6DLfNNpfFKJ7gOPRG80qrqQnFjI975Tt_DPmzndjxxg9h6Wt6bEsyi2i_KpcUwCjB_nQs_7p6H7zH-/s200/IMG_3663.jpg" width="150" /></a></li>
<li>ehicles primarily driven by the male spouse always seem to have just a hint of eu d' musky.</li>
<li>F-A-R-T-S - enough said - <strike style="text-align: center;">see previous number.</strike></li>
</ol>
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And even though this list, however funny, cannot replace the absolutely amazing things that he does on a daily basis to to make my dreams come true.</div>
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<ol>
<li>Our garden is beautiful and watered daily. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>The amazing barn door in our bedroom hangs and looks beautiful</li>
<li>His coaching and endless hours spent on the weekend giving his time is done for the sole benefit of our home and family.</li>
<li>Literally picking me up off the floor when I fell or putting me in the bath when I am soooo sick.</li>
<li>Having a fire, blankets, and cocktails ready for a group of women after a paint party and strawberries too! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>Being my constant cheerleader.</li>
<li>Having pride in my accomplishments and shouting them from the rooftops.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Realising that my Storm Squad (Nerd Squad) are important and sometimes the sole reason we make it through a rough day. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>Loving and teaching our nephews and niece every time. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<li>Spending each day fighting the zombies, killing spiders, and wrapping me in love even when he doesn't like me too much. </li>
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So, as I wrap up this blog post, and VOW to post more often. I love my Fisherman - enough said. <br />
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More to come, I SWEAR. Even as I type he is laying in the bed encouraging me to post more often.</div>
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'til we meet again,</div>
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-4781355190589025712016-03-06T16:52:00.004-07:002017-05-18T11:56:44.764-06:00I am a FEMINIST!I have spent a good portion of my brain power this cloudy Sunday thinking about my interpretation of the word <i><b>feminist</b></i>. Before you change the station, click to the next webpage, or move down the "multi-task" list; wait!<br />
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This past quarter we have been talking about the role of media in society - editorials, etc. in my regular junior English class. I must say that with the campaign in full-swing for this 2016 election season it has provided a great deal of fodder for debate within my class. I typically do not divulge to my students my views on politics, hot-button issues, or most "debate worthy" topics. I want students to come to their own conclusion and think through ALL the options<br />
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For the first time in history of this nation - there is an actual chance that a woman could occupy the top seat of power in our country. That is remarkable. It should be cause for celebration from my gender, and I am certain for many, it is.<br />
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Perhaps it is Spring with the blooming flowers, or the chance to mold my VERY OWN garden into my vision of Eden that has me thinking of the legions of women who have gone before me - the "true feminists".<br />
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I think of my grandmother - by far, one of the sassiest women I know. She has shaped my life in ways that I don't even fully understand. As I drove to get my "Sunday afternoon Sonic Soda" the song on the radio was "Who I Am" by Jessica Andrews - I always substitute the lyrics and sing at the top of my lungs "I am Wanda Lee's granddaughter..."<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">"Who I Am"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">If I live to be a hundred</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">And never see the seven wonders</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">That'll be alright</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">If I don't make it to the big leagues</span></div>
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If I never win a Grammy</div>
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I'm gonna be just fine</div>
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Cause I know exactly who I am</div>
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I am Rosemary's granddaughter</div>
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The spitting image of my father</div>
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And when the day is done my momma's still my biggest fan</div>
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Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy</div>
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But I've got friends that love me</div>
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And they know just where I stand</div>
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It's all a part of me</div>
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<span style="background-color: #ccccdd; line-height: 19.1429px;">And that's who I am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">I think of my grandmother. She was a true feminist. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">She was so all the way down to red shoes and to the top of her curly bouffant Texas hair. She would tell me stories as a girl about why her favorite color was red - and why she wore it so often was because it was a taboo when she was young and "quite simply, nothing is stopping me from wearing it now, Sis"! It carried with it the stigma of the "red light". She loved to wear her red pants, or red shoes, or even red(ish) lipstick. She was class wrapped in a firecracker and I simply adored her. I always told her that she and I were twin souls separated by a generation. She instilled in me my determination and the bootsrap, bulldozing, attitude that "anything you (the boys) could do I could do better"! I miss her EVERY BREATH I TAKE!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">I think of my mother who holds fast to her principles of feminism - different from my grandmother's and different from my own but no less valiant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times";"><span style="font-size: medium;">She believes fiercely in family and showing gratitude and grace in all human beings. Her feminism for me was on display when my father was injured and she led our home and family through the darkness single-handedly - often working 2-3 jobs and sleeping on the floor tending my father and raising my brother and I in her spare time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">Finally, I think of my niece who has been like a beacon of the possibilities that are yet ahead for us all. She is the culmination of sass, fireworks, and brilliance that have rolled down the generations. Quite literally, she has no barriers in her path. She is smart, fierce, and determined. She puzzles out solutions, twirls with abandon, and dances to her own unique little beat.</span><br />
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</span></span><br />Now, what, pray tell might this all have to do with the elections, teaching, etc. (for Heaven's sake get to the point)...I say all this because I have a very distinct version of feminism and it has nothing to do with the candidate previously mentioned. In fact, I think about her being the definition of feminism to the little girls everywhere and I wonder, truly, will they ever know? I do not believe that SHE represents the ideals that most women engender as feminist. We prize determination not self-promotion whilst devaluing our own worth. We hold examples of strong women in our hearts - not women who have been made strong by highlighting the worst qualities in humanity. We can let our intellect and drive for perfection lead us while still holding fast to our value and morality. Most importantly WE ARE NEVER DONE...we will continue to press forward knowing there is GRACE in the attempt. <br /><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><br />
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-47170318839872143872016-02-28T09:44:00.002-07:002018-06-17T21:39:42.212-06:00Take me out to the ball game...Blonde bulldozer here...with some tales of a fish wife, although lately it is tales of a softball widow. Fisherman is in fullswing with softball and I joyfully relish the 2-3 hours in the afternoon to dance around in my underwear singing "...you make me wanna shoop, shoop be doop" (sorry, <strike>not sorry</strike> for the visual). I have been in a step challenge at my school and I have been gleefully exploring our neighborhood in the afternoons while he is at practice or games.<br />
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Today is Saturday and I have been solo Seiler since 6:40 this morning. I did not even open my peepers until 8:30 and then I rolled toward the window to let the sun shine on my face as I woke slowly with the warmth. Without a doubt this is my favorite thing in the world - to have the warmth of the sun wake me vs. having the obnoxious sound of my alarm clock. I lolled around in my PJ's and watched the absolute brain decaying candy of "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" while I had a bacon sandwich for breakfast (don't judge me). I have kind of cleaned today, but mostly I have been lazy - gloriously, blissfully, lazy.<br />
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When I finally did get moving I got in my trusty wagon and headed to the local sonic - and got a strawberry limeade, aw yeah! Still the baseball diamond was callin' my name. I went and watched one of the 4 games that Fisherman coached today. I can, without a doubt, say that there is nothing, repeat nothing I do not like about baseball (or softball).<br />
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I remember nostalgically as a child being raised at the ball park. It was the stuff of my summer. I was no more than seven when I, sharing the duties with my cousin Levi, got to be the bat girl for my older cousin Sass' team The Reds. Later, I started watching teams all over again as my brother went through the Roberto Clemente -> Pee Wee Reese -> Mikey Mantle -> Sandy Kofax -> and then finally Connie Mack leagues. I worked consessh, got splinters from Ricketts Park, ate 1000 pounds of sunflower seeds, umpteen thousand awesome Frito Pies, had Coke with the "good ice", sucked on cinnamon suckers (always dipping them in 7-Up), and cheered my heart out as the Reds, A's, and Bandits won and lost. A little fact, my hometown has a world series - <a href="http://www.fmtn.org/273/Connie-Mack-World-Series" target="_blank">The Connie Mack World Series</a> - and my brother played on the team that went the farthest toward garnering a home team win of any team in history, check it out <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Diamond-Desert-Connie-Series-Farmington/dp/0967883482" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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My Jamie-lou-ia and I LOVED spending our time at the ball park - and still do. We were ecstatic to have finally coordinated our schedules back in 2013 to watch a couple of the games of the world series. I have to say when the national anthem was sung by some local celebrity - I got teary-eyed, and still do because those moments are...perfect.<br />
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And, finally today, I was watch watching the love of my life coach the next generation of "girl ball players" I was overcome, truly. I love baseball. <br />
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It is in my blood and I carry all those wonderful memories around to a new baseball season.<br />
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Now, I get to not only watch Fisherman and proudly exclaim "I Heart the Coach" but get to watch my little nephew suit up and look mighty handsome as he struts his little self out on to the diamond. Last year was his first season and he was a rockstar.<br />
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Roughneck (my brother) and I were walking with him along the hallowed ground of Justis Park and we looked at the trees and ivy and laughingly commented on how many miles of sunflower seeds, baseballs, and fun dip comprised the back ivy of the park and how much it just smells like summer.<br />
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I can't wait to watch him play, I can't wait to watch my littlest nephew Noah play, and I am overjoyed to have Fisherman coaching and seeing his team bat, bunt, run, slide, and homerun their way to victory.<br />
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Bring on the boys and girls of SUMMER!<br />
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yer.....OUT!,</div>
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-25321429848706958812015-11-04T09:33:00.002-07:002015-11-04T09:33:27.022-07:00Technology Woes...Let me begin by stating that I LOVE MY JOB. However, as any teacher can attest, there comes a point in every semester where one is just "DONE" - pushed to exhaustion, grumpy-pants-ness, irritable, did I mention exhausted.<br />
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Things have been trucking along exceptionally well this year. My classes are awesome but the sheer amount of grading has taken my breath away more than once. I have 4 sections of Advanced Placement and my time is scarce when it comes to what I have to give. So my excitement level reached an epoch when I found out that we, as a district, were migrating Google (Gmail) late in the summer.<br />
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The move has been seamless for some and for others (or so I hear) it has been...well, let's just say "the struggle is real". I am GRATEFUL everyday that my Grandmother instilled in me - all those years ago - a love for technology and advancement.<br />
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Additionally, we were very happy last year when we were told that they were increasing the number of "mobile labs" - or COWS (carts on wheels) as Fisherman's campus calls them. As with every "good" there is the equal and opposite "bad" and in this case the COWS were to be used for PARCC testing (the endless standardized testing)...<strike>I can't even...</strike> So, testing came and went and gloriously the COWS were returned to the masses for general use. Last week, we received the not-so-welcome news that again, the COWS would be "sucked up" for PARCC retesting (those who did not meet the mark last March/April), leading again to a shortage. To say that I am experience COW withdrawal this week is vastly understated. I went so far as to put a plea out to those in business I know to sponsor a classroom...namely, MINE! In fact, I was able to share my love of tech with my campus and show colleagues how to use <a href="https://www.schoology.com/" target="_blank">Schoology</a> - and I am happy to say, this has been like LIGHTNING (fitting for the STORM (our mascot)), teachers posting happy thoughts and warm fuzzies regarding <a href="https://www.schoology.com/" target="_blank">Schoology</a>.<br />
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" /></div>
Lastly, my most recent angst has come in the form of "blockage" - or being "FILTERED" - I really try to find lively, colorful, rich content for my students but am stymied at the fact I am blocked and always have to double, if not, triple plan just in case I can't gain access at school.<br />
<br />
Which FINALLY brings me to my final point and a little ray of sunshine in my CHAOS. **spoiler - this is the point where I totally, "geek out". I have found a way to sync my files from Dropbox, which I usually use, and Google Drive - which I am allowed at school; ta-da, ladies and gentlepeeps - I give you <a href="https://www.cloudhq.net/free" target="_blank">CloudHQ</a>! <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Image result for cloudHQ" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRW7V5RWtD_zuHME2qH9mmfPvHkYC9PRLBKZ5CTu3iNgQuPEUAQ" /></div>
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Check it out...I'm sure you will dig it. In a world where chaos is KING, this has been a little slice of awesome!</div>
The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-24143162173372662142015-07-22T21:47:00.000-06:002015-07-22T21:47:04.287-06:00Blog revamp...and a little fish tale.Well hello! Those of you who read our story and have kept up with our ever-changing world should notice the re-vamp of this here bloggy. As we have started our life and become "contributors to the tax base of America" I thought our blog could use a re-vamp as well.<br />
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I was telling Fisherman's sister, who shall now be known as "Bossy Barbie" (a name she was given by her students) that I haven't done a blog post in a while - believe, me not for lack of blog topics - but because I have just been relaxin' and enjoying the summer.<br />
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I will say, however, that the full-on panic attack I had on the 4th of July as I went into Target to get sunscreen and s'more paraphernalia, was started by the early arrival of school supplies lining the shelves where the summer goodness once stood.<br />
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This summer, Fisherman and I traveled and are back to our usual vagabond ways - first a trip to Las Cruces, White Sands, then home - a real home of our own, then to our cabin in Vallecito, then some time at the Sandoval casa, then some time at the Fisherman's mom's house and Big Sky Country. We've been in so many different places that the other night I woke up and for a split second had a flash of panic because I didn't know where I was.<br />
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The past week Fisherman has been attempting to teach me how to fish...go figure. I postively LOVE the idea of learning a new skill and trying something I have never done, but I can honestly proclaim that fly-fishing is T-O-U-G-H. It is little wonder that doctors do not perform surgery on their own family, because I can attest to a zenith in my level of frustration at learning this art. For the past several months, he has been sending me articles that he has found online about wives and fishing, etc., but still, there is enough frustration to pass around for seconds. I am however armed with my sassy determination, but can testify to a <strike>small</strike> tantrum two days ago wherein he was trying to show me some details of the finesse of the fly-line and "letting the back cast load-up" when I stomped my feet like a small child and proclaimed out loud and on purpose "I'M NEVER GOING TO GET THIS!!! {{punctuated with some very choice adjective phrases}}.<br />
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I am however, determined to learn. My chief reason is that I LOVE my husband and all of his fishy ways {{wink}}!<br />
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It is important to me to keep trying, though he may kill me or vice versa. Last reason to force my determination is I get to buy new gear {{squeal}} - I may even crafty up-style my very own fishing vest...do you think I can bling out a fishing vest and live to tell the tale er, fish story? Check back...<br />
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...'til all the rivers run dry,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-19055611335675515592015-06-23T16:10:00.002-06:002015-06-23T16:10:39.593-06:00Tomorrow!I sit here in our packed up rental on the eve of our home ownership. I am not sure if it is nerves or the fact that my Roughneck brother's voice keeps ringing in my ears - but, I am queasy. I KNOW we are doing the right thing and I know that this is the right place for us, but nevertheless, QUEASY, buddy, QUEASY.<br />
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A thousand questions run through my head all at the same time:<br />
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<li> What if something happens to Fisherman - can I pay the mortgage?</li>
<li> Where did we pack the toilet paper?</li>
<li> Will my precious wedding china survive the 2 mile move after surviving a 3000 mile move down the Alcan?</li>
<li>Am I going to kill Fisherman before we move in?</li>
<li>Will the people who are measuring our house for new carpet EVER call us back?</li>
<li>Where did we pack the toilet paper?</li>
<li>If Fisherman repacks something I have already packed will I have anybody who has enough bail money to get me out of jail for homicide?</li>
<li>What is with the thousand mosquito bites on my back and what shall we have for dinner in our packed up pad?</li>
<li>Seriously, where is the toilet paper?</li>
<li>How can it not be Wednesday yet? I am ready to own this HOME!</li>
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At any rate, tomorrow at 8:30 am - Fisherman and I will own a home and I could not be more excited. I know that thousands of people own their own home, but this is a first for me and these are my thoughts as we enter into this new adventure (filled with excitement or <strike>terror</strike>).</div>
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Wahoo and love from Alcano Circle NE!</div>
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-51634212786657539432015-05-22T23:40:00.002-06:002015-05-23T00:00:00.192-06:00Year 17...and counting.Teachers are such unique creatures. We are by our very nature always in a state of "goodbye". I find myself contemplating the oddities that seem to follow the life an average American high school teacher.<br />
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We begin each year knowing that the "crop" of kiddos we have are destined and even pushed away from us every day with every assignment, discussion, and class. We hope that they are making the ever growing leaps in the increase of their knowledge and we, like the "greater fools" hope we have made a difference in their lives in some way.<br />
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This year, like all the other years, Fisherman and I have been counting down to TODAY. Today, we checked out (both literally and mentally) of school for the year. We were issued our little "sign-off" sheets which include items such as - bookroom clerk signature, department chair signature, computer clean-out signature, classroom clean-up....again, signature. The last two "signatures" are where we turn in our ID badges and our keys. And so, with paper completely checked off, I ended my 17th year of teaching.<br />
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I love what I do. It bears repeating...I. Love. What. I. Do. I chose to be a teacher out loud and on purpose. I did not just fall into teaching. I most certainly do not approach my classes in that manner. I passionately, wholeheartedly believe in the youth of society. Do they mess up from time-to-time? Do they occasionally make poor decisions? Do they listen to music that makes me want to peel my own ears off? Do I have to repeat myself in my classroom at least 5 times daily? Do freshmen know that bringing shaving cream to school just reaffirms to the upperclassmen that they are freshmen...yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes! And, yet, I love what I do.<br />
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This year...year 17 I had students in my AP class who obliterated the bell curve with every test. This year, year 17, I had students who could write so eloquently that I had to examine my own writing, just to see how I could improve my own. This year, year 17, I pushed myself to the absolute breaking point and realized that I am continually buoyed by my students and their ability to read a piece of literature wherein every student in the class can (and typically does) have a valid but varied opinion about the topic at hand. Finally, this year, year 17, I had students that I dearly loved and I said goodbye to them today and they repeated the very same sentiment that has been echoed to me year after year..."Mrs. Seiler, this was by far THE MOST difficult class I have ever taken, but I know I learned more than I ever have, so thank you" {{heart melting}}.<br />
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...with miles to go before I sleep,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-78550654286148315822015-05-12T11:05:00.001-06:002015-05-12T11:05:34.156-06:00<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; color: #000099; font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: small;">
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">Dearest Family and Friends,</span></div>
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F<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">isherman and I have been working away and are almost at the end of our first year in Rio Rancho (Albuquerque). We have had one adventure after another and are so excited to share our newest one – we have made an offer on a house of our own (finally a few roots to a place we belong) and the offer has been accepted by the owners.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">We will hopefully close on our house on June 24<sup>th</sup> and we could not be more thrilled! Any positive thoughts or good vibes you could send our way for a smooth process for these two weary teachers would be greatly appreciated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">Our new house is fantastic (or will be when we re-paint)! It sits on one acre with a magnificent view of the Sandia Mountains to the east. There are raised-bed gardens in the back and a workshop for Fisherman too…or maybe a “she-shed” craft room for me (ha)!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">Here is the link to check out the other photos of our new home. </span></div>
<a href="http://www.zillow.com/homedetails/300-Alcano-Cir-NE-Rio-Rancho-NM-87124/113483444_zpid/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.zillow.com/<wbr></wbr>homedetails/300-Alcano-Cir-NE-<wbr></wbr>Rio-Rancho-NM-87124/113483444_<wbr></wbr>zpid/</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">We are so happy to be moving to a place where our neighbors are not “on top of us”, and that has a place where we can hang out outside!</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">It is a great place and we hope to see you all soon, as our treasured friends and family in our new home.</span><br />
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-35154774033581612692014-11-30T16:46:00.002-07:002014-12-01T08:01:44.901-07:00Well traveled ChinaI sit here in solitude in my home (the sheer thought is glorious) after a successful Thanksgiving week. Fisherman and I played host to his family and mine and I got to use our beautiful {{sigh}} wedding china. <br />
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I have spent the past several months planning, plotting, surveying magazines and Pinterest, all to create the perfect Thanksgiving table. With the help of my Mom, I found all the fixings to create the exact table setting I had envisioned and knew that it would look beautiful.<br />
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Fisherman even managed a small miracle of his own...his mother got on a plane and visited us here in Albuquerque. Our home was full of family - his mom and sister, my parents, and my cousin. The day came, the turkey was golden brown, potatoes fluffy, rolls...slightly undercooked, but nonetheless tasty. It was at the dinner, that both my mother and Fisherman's mother remarked that I needed to tell the story of our wedding china. They reminded me that it is not merely the possessions that make a life, it is the story behind the possessions.<br />
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Without further adieu...<br />
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Our wedding china is beautiful Wedgewood - a simple pattern that is understated and lovely! I ooh and ah over it every time I look at it. Accompanying the china is my Grandmother's silver-rimmed crystal {{gushing}}. The two of these items are just beautiful and match as if they were designed to go together.<br />
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Fisherman and I received our wedding china whilst on the Island of Misfit Toys. We were living surrounded by rough and tough fisherman, gruff cannery workers, and very few who could truly appreciate that level of finery. One morning, sometime in November, we received a box from Fisherman's family at the school. We opened it up and it was as if a shining ray of fancy popped up - simply the wrapping of package was magnificient. The students as well as a couple of other teachers remarked "Wow, what a pretty package!" I could not imagine what it was, so we took it home and opened up the fancy wrapping and...ta da...it was our china. Finery in the land of chaos and melee!<br />
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I was perpexled. Fisherman's family had sent the china because they thought I would like something nice in our tumultuous world. I opened one set...just to have a peek. I lovingly caressed the dishes with a longing to host a proper dinner party - the stuff that I had dreamed of doing probably since I was a small girl. I then put it back in the box, knowing that it would not be fully appreciated while we were there. For Christmas, my parents added to our service and kept safe, at very least, two of our place settings.<br />
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As we prepared our exodus from the island, we packed up the few belongings that we brought with us and finally came to the china which taunted me from the cupboard. We carefully wrapped the boxes and with a hope and prayer, insulating them the best we could. Fisherman drove our lives down the Alaksa-Canada highway through frost heaves and broken road. The china also bore the rough and tumble road along with gulf of Alaksa/Pacific Ocean fury on the ferry. By the time we moved into our home in August, we slowly peeked into the tote that contained our precious wedding china. Before we opened the tote, Fisherman proclaimed "Babes, we did the best we could, but I make no guarantees...". I held my breath, opened the tote, removed and opened the box, and there it was - gleaming up at me with not a chip or nick in the entire lot.<br />
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So, very long story short, my table was the bell of the ball this Thanksgiving with a very worldly china gracing our presence. <br />
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I am very THANKFUL that this china's story had a happy ending and I get to sit here and re-live the goings'-on of the past weekend with a cheshire grin and a fond glimmer of fancy remaining in my heart and mind.<br />
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Marvelously satisfied,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-57342503169030437472014-08-28T12:30:00.001-06:002014-08-28T12:30:29.841-06:00Green chile, the Sandias, and regular life.Fisherman and I have settled into our new home and are slowly but surely navigating the new surroundings at our respective schools. Fisherman is at Rio Rancho High School and I at V. Sue Cleveland High School. My school is truly a marvel. I get excited to come to work in the morning (very early in the morning) as I drive out to the middle of the desert and the sun peeks up over the Sandia Mountains - I marvel at the true beauty of New Mexico...home.<br />
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V. Sue Cleveland is the home of the STORM! The students at this school take care of this award-winning campus with their heart and soul. Every ounce of the integrity of the school is maintained by those who inhabit this building. The freshmen start out and inducted into the STORM culture from day 1. I am AMAZED at the level of participation and enthusiasm. The campus itself has won architectural awards, Green awards, academic rigor awards, and is in line to win the New Mexico director's cup - an award that looks at the entire picture of the campus (what percentage of the students are in Advanced Placement classes, extra/co-curricular activities, sports, clubs, etc.) Whew! I love it here!<br />
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Please don't get me wrong, I loved being at LaJoya - in fact, that is the standard that I measure all other schools by...but I honestly don't see myself leaving this school until I'm ready to hang-up my shingle. Here is virtual tour of my school.<br />
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I will take some photos of my classroom soon and post, but for now, the video will have to suffice.<br />
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A few days ago, fisherman and I were on our way to the grocery to do our weekly haul, and I captured a whiff of NM Hatch Green Chile being roasted. My wee little heart skipped a beat I was so happy. I meandered slowly as we entered and I lingered slowly as we exited to make sure I could soak in ALL the goodness of the moment.<br />
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Finally, last Friday, Fisherman and I packed up our little wagon on Friday after school and enjoyed a quick little drive to Farmington where we were able to join in the festivities of my sweet nephew turning 5, I can't believe he's 5!! I hung out with my parents, visited my aunt and uncle, and ate some home grown veggies from Dad's garden. It was joyous and I reveled in the glory of being so close to family. It was a marvelous weekend and I almost had to pinch myself to make sure it was real. Fisherman, even snuck out and did a little of what he does best...fish!<br />
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Being home...enough said.<br />
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Love from the 505,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-41796185165711970762014-08-04T11:11:00.002-06:002014-08-04T11:17:07.065-06:00HOME.I sit here in our "local Starbucks" writing this update to the wild world of Fisherman and I as our new house does not yet have internet. That's right, our new house. Fisherman and I are in Rio Rancho - a suburb, sort of, of Albuquerque.<br />
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In the midst of an almost complete meltdown, I somehow landed a job here in Rio Rancho AND {{bonus}} so did Fisherman. We are both wild with delight about being employees of the Rio Rancho Public Schools - I, at <a href="http://cleveland.rrps.net/" target="_blank">V. Sue Cleveland High School</a> and he at <a href="http://rrhs.rrps.net/" target="_blank">Rio Rancho High School</a>. In no uncertain terms this is a miraculous. The following captures our story.<br />
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I flew from Anchorage to Albuquerque on the 25th of May. I spent 3 glorious weeks playing with my nephew and niece. During that time I interviewed at Farmington High School, Piedra Vista High School, Rio Rancho High School, and even at V. Sue Cleveland High School to no avail. My three weeks to catch my breath and catch up with some much needed "little peeps time" - I was forlorn, truly. I have NEVER, repeat NEVER doubted my abilities in the classroom. This is the world where I feel completely at home and know EXACTLY what I am doing. After at least 100 or so applications out and innumerable interviews, I was at the END of my rope. I made my reservations to rejoin Fisherman at his mom's house in Montana. I was set, I had ticket in hand and bags were packed. I landed in Bozeman and the next day I got called for a second interview at V. Sue Cleveland High School. So Fisherman and I loaded up our little wagon, once again, and trekked back down to New Mexico where I met with the interview team and was offered the job.<br />
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I know I have stated it previously, but if one would ever like to really gauge their self-worth, try applying for a teaching job. The entire process was brutal. Places I thought I was a "shoe-in" turned me down flat with a canned auto-generated email. I feel blessed beyond measure knowing that those who think I'm a rockstar kept verifying that through many background checks, and recommendation phone calls. In short, thank you all!<br />
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I would also like to send a GIANT "shout out" to my main squeezee for dealing with my tumultuous moods and depression of multiple rejections. Could anyone wish for anything better than really seeing a true reflection of your best self in your partner's eyes?<br />
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So now, we are both employed and begin another school year here in 4 days. This is year 17 for me...seriously, 17. I can literally almost not believe it - I am still as nervous as the first classroom that I had all those years ago.<br />
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Segue...<br />
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Fisherman and I have been living the gypsy lifestyle for such a long time that I could not even remember what we owned and what we did not. We have spent the last week moving our lives into our first "home" as husband and wife. While we did have a home in Sand Point - the only thing that was ours in that home was our clothing and the bed we ordered that was shipped up on the barge. ALL of our wedding gifts and things that make it feel like our own home have been packed and waiting for their owners to take possession.<br />
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Our house is so cute. Fisherman did not get the garage he wanted but besides that it is quite possibly perfect. It is starting to take shape and I am rejoicing in using the household goods that belong to us. By the way, the toaster is rockstar, and the ninja chopper - freakin' awesome! I enjoy cooking in our big ol' kitchen and using the exact products that are required. I longingly caressed our wedding china, and am beyond ecstatic to have items that my Grandma lovingly used in her kitchen to prepare meals with a side of sass and love, also now inhabit our kitchen.<br />
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I am quite simply, in Heaven - employed, domesticated, sublime Heaven! So, friends, thus ends this epic long post. Come visit us, we love guests and can't wait to have you in our H-O-M-E!<br />
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Love,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-65058316262643561452014-06-19T21:21:00.000-06:002014-06-19T21:26:42.941-06:00Farvorite Peeps and Traveling...I have had the opportunity the last 3 weeks to PLAY. That's right, play. I have spent three glorious weeks playing with my nephew and "sassy pants" niece - a little personalized slice of Heaven. Indulge me a few whilst I gush about their sheer genius.<br />
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Brady discovered the musical genius of Neil Diamond and <strike>shouts</strike> sings at the top of his lungs "Sweet Caroline" - a wondrous sight to behold. As we were rockin' to a few booty shakers and he walked in giving us all the look of "who are these aliens that are in charge here" he then gave into the inevitable and embraced the Diamond!<br />
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Ali or "Big Al" as we call her, Ali-gator, or Sister and quite often Sister-Face - thinks that "Happy" by Pherrell Williams is the best thing since sliced bread! She also has enough bounce in her boogie to get her little curlies bouncing as she "shakes it" and "gives it all she's got!" Last little story...as I was helping her in the potty and she was pulling up her britches, I started to help her when she looked up at me (with all the irritation of a teenager) and said in her wee tiny voice "I tol' you I could do it...God Sakes!" I literally almost wet myself in an attempt not to laugh out loud! She's a PICKLE, that one.<br />
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Now, that I have had a small little fix of the two cutest peeps on earth...I am on my way back to meet up with my main squeeze - FISHERMAN! I miss him MADLY! I won't bore you with the obvious but I am still only sleeping on one side of the bed - it is amazing how completely patterned one's brain and heart become and when one of the partners is absent it feels like missing a limb.<br />
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As I make my way to Montana, I have been renewed in my belief that human beings as a species are so interesting. There is such a wide variety in the sea of humanity to capture one's interest. For example, as I am sitting in dorky little Durango waiting to board the plane to Denver a woman who literally coughed the entire two hours I sat there was totally unaware of the other passengers and their repulsion of her entire being. Next, seated directly next to the incubus of viral plague was "short-shorts girl". It is no exaggeration that everyone knew she was rockin' it commando, but were treated to the delights of her stretch marks on her stomach and her bum cheeks hangin' out the other end as well.<br />
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I now sit in the Denver airport as a random flurry of people walk to and fro and I cannot help but wonder what their stories are. There is a girl (teenage girl) crying in a couple of rows away; innumerable business men and women (although it is 9:10pm, what business might they be conducting?); and because it is summer, an endless stream of families jostling about with kids being yanked by their parents with cries of "COME ON!" and "WE CAN MAKE IT!" being echoed down the terminal.<br />
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Lastly, I always marvel at the traveling women who walk through the airport and look like they have stepped off the cover of Vogue. This is a skill I will NEVER, EVER, possess. I always look disheveled, and am in need curling iron and make-up artist if I ever want to look even presentable when stepping off an airplane. Perhaps I should take Fisherman's Aunt's advice "the only way to fly is with cocktails, sweetie!" Cheers, Fisherman...I look like your Irish Girl - smashed butt supremo, but I will kiss your face off nonetheless when I see you.<br />
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Waiting to see my MAN,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-10353490077065423432014-05-31T23:46:00.001-06:002014-06-01T09:28:16.361-06:00Repatriation or re-entry.Fisherman and I have been "off the rock" for almost 2 weeks. In that time he has been driving our "life" down the Alcan 2800+ miles and has done so with steadfast conviction armed with our camera to capture all the beauty of the trip.<br />
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In fact, many people have asked or have made comments of the beauty of Fisherman's trip and stated "how fun" or "that must have been amazing" assuming that I made the trip with my trailblazin' husband. NO DICE... I flew down from Anchorage. There are two very strong reasons that I would not make the trip (not that I would not LOVE the scenery):<br />
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<ol>
<li>Our truck was loaded to capacity, in fact our short jaunt from disembarking the ferry to Anchorage was brutal - I thought Fisherman was going to have to whip out a can opener and peel me from the truck with the jaws of life. Literally, every square inch of our truck had stuff, stuffed.</li>
<li>I am like a little child in a car. "Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet?" or after a hundred or so miles..."I'm D-O-N-E"! If I would have attempted this jaunt, there would have been one less married couple in the world or there would be one more prisoner taking up space in the penal system - one of us would have killed the other. :)</li>
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I am truly grateful that Fisherman is able to do this and YES, he did see some amazing scenery, lots of bears, and actually did see "the forrest for the trees"...ha!</div>
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Upon arrival in Anchorage a new phenomenon has emerged...repatriation. In short, though we were only on the island for 9 months, there are now some routine things that are ingrained in my head and I am not shy to say it has made re-adjusting to civilization somewhat hilarious.</div>
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One afternoon in Anchorage, our Best Man was having a dinner at his house when we found ourselves at Fred Meyer in search of some grocery items. Fred Meyer, for those unaware, is like Target on steroids. Fisherman stated, "you go find what you need, I'll grab what I need and then we'll meet at the checkout..." Well, 30 minutes later (and more than a little frustrated) Fisherman finds me wandering up and down the aisles with a dazed expression completely overwhelmed by all the choices. I sheepishly looked at him and said..."I have no idea how to shop like this anymore." I was literally drunk on the wide variety of items in the store and wanted to touch and hold all the fun home goods (I'm sure my basket was loaded with numerous items that made no sense). I also had to get it out of my head that I didn't need to stock up for the Apocalypse or wonder how we would get our shopping loot "back to the island". And to top it all off, I have actually had to re-learn how to carry my wallet with me...which I did not do the ENTIRE time on the island.</div>
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Finally, I have found myself (after I re-licensed my car in the Lower 48) driving around just to drive. I will drive through a drive through and just order a pop, because I CAN - with the radio tuned to any one of a dozen stations that play music - truly a wonder!</div>
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Relearning,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-1124630671968510132014-05-24T00:50:00.000-06:002014-05-24T00:54:56.900-06:00Denali, Seattle, Albuquerque, Townsend or BUST!I have been wanting to write about our final days in the Great White North. We left the island with fireworks and happy dances a plenty and have spent the last couple of days in Anchorage (Palmer) and then spent two glorious days in Denali National Park.<br />
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I recently remarked on my husband and his many wonderful qualities, but one of his true gifts is making sure I get to experience all the wonder that this bountiful country has to offer. I would have been completely content to stay and hang out in the Anchorage area after we disembarked our sea voyage exodus (more on this later). He, however, wanted to make sure that I saw Alaska for its real beauty and not just the dysfunction of the island (beautiful, yes...functioning NO WAY). The other side of that gift is his ability to plan out a short trips and making the most of the beauty of the land and see to every detail of short day trips.</div>
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We set out Wednesday afternoon and headed the 180 or so miles to Denali. Along the way we made time to stop at Montana Creek (of course) as well as to take rockstar photos of Mt. McKinely. When we finally arrived our destination for the evening Fisherman had made reservations at <a href="http://www.mckinleycabins.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">McKinley Creekside Cabins</span></a> for the night. This place was amazing, totally my definition of a charming bed and breakfast - with super comfy beds. We drove a little ways past the B&B to have dinner at <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.prospectorspizza.com/" target="_blank">Prospector's Historic Pizzeria and Alehouse</a> </span>(SO MUCH FUN and really good pizza).</div>
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The next morning we mounted our trusty steed (the Dodge) and headed to our tour bus which took us up into the park. This was definitely a "bucket list" type of a trip. We saw...caribou, ptarmigan, moose, big-horn sheep, and BEARS...um yeah, BEARS! The scenery was amazing and to learn of the fabulous history and the unique landscape of Denali was sheer joy. The trees for instance, do not grow very tall in Denali because of the distorted daylight and altitude. They looked like trees straight out of a Dr. Seuss book - super skinny and about 8 feet tall. I kept waiting for a Whoville Who to pop out!</div>
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Like I said, the trip was amazing and packed with adventure which is the definition of Mr. & Mrs. Seiler during their first year of marriage. If you would like to see photos of our trip and even some cute selfies of Fisherman and I...check back. I will post link to a viewable album later.</div>
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Tomorrow I board the plane bound for Albuquerque via an overnight stay with my sweet sister-in-law in Seattle...cheers and more from the "Lower 48" later.</div>
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Globetrottin',</div>
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-20777205577929984482014-05-18T00:33:00.000-06:002014-05-18T01:20:31.168-06:00Bon Voyage!Tomorrow by this time, Fisherman and I will drive our little wagon down to the dock and with tickets in hand, board the ferry off this island. <br />
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Our experiences here in Sand Point have been truly unique (to state the very least and the very obvious). I have learned many lessons this school year and have been very much in a reversed role - learning as much from my students and those around me, as they have from me.<br />
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This year, as I was able to articulate to the entire town on Friday, I taught to to 6 grade levels in 5 classes:<br />
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<li>13 short stories</li>
<li>7 novels - <i>Of Mice and Men, The Giver, To Kill a Mockingbird, Farewell to Manzanar, The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter, The Great Gatsby, </i></li>
<li>5 epics - <i>Beowulf, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, The Canterbury Tales, The Odyssey, Paradise Lost</i></li>
<li>5 dramas - <i>Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Macbeth, Hamlet, and Gulliver's Travels</i></li>
<li>Poetry - Renaissance Poetry, Metaphysical Poets (including John Donne), Harlem Renaissance poetry</li>
<li>Fairy Tales</li>
<li>The Arthurian Legends</li>
<li>Greek and Norse Mythology</li>
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I have taught my students how to blog, how to write personal narratives, how to write persuasively, , and finally how to construct a literary analysis that would make your socks melt! Whew, I'm tired just thinking about it!<br />
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The real lessons I learned, however, outweigh even the hefty list of literature. My most important lesson was learned in my own home. I learned how to be married to my husband. I learned, thanks to our remote location and removal, to depend on another human being. I learned that when things get sketchy HE is my sunshine. I learned how to be his wife.<br />
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We had each other here on this island. That. Is. All. We were surrounded by people, but it was truly as if we had landed on the moon. EVERYTHING was different. I was forced to <i><b>leap</b></i> outside of my comfort zone. This blog is aptly entitled "The Blonde Bulldozer". I am headstrong, fierce, and have rarely been afraid of trying new things. But, this place, is tough. Being in this climate, these surroundings, among some of the toughest people in the world, I had no other choice but to cling to my husband - the only other "like-minded alien" around.<br />
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My husband is my hero and truly a man who lives his vows to his wife, daily. Love, even when he doesn't really like me or my oddities. Honor - finding ways to honor my individuality while leading me to be a stronger human being. And finally, cherish...any man who will sit in a car whilst his wife is getting a manicure, haircut, all the while bringing her a fountain soda and dries her tears as she sobs at the possibility of not going home for Christmas, has learned and earned these lessons, ten-fold.<br />
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So, as we embark on our next adventure and load our truck and vagabond our way down North America to heaven knows where, I am firmly fixed in my love for Fisherman and await with baited breath our exodus.<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-17581504153946478072014-05-14T11:38:00.002-06:002014-05-14T11:47:41.206-06:00Sunshine, chaos, and toodle-loo!I know it has been a very long time since my last post. In the interim a little explanation of our life. Fisherman and I have been working our hardest to try to make sense out of the chaos that is life here at the Sand Point School. I have highlighted many of the unique tales, but a full expose would not be appropriate to blast all over the web. Suffice it to say that Fisherman have dedicated a large amount of time in the last month job searching - with all that it entails.<br />
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We attended the Alaska teacher job fair in the middle of April and felt as if we made some good contacts, but like most states, the legislature determines the fiscal future of the districts in Alaska. We thoroughly enjoyed our escape from this rock and had some fun staying in a very nice hotel...but as of yet, still nothing from an Alaskan school district.<br />
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We have also been filling out applications and sending resumes/CV's in hopes of possibly returning to the southwest, or possibly moving to Wyoming (the pay for educators is very good), maybe Washington...or wherever we would have gainful employment. I will not shy away from saying that I am disheartened by the underwhelming response. I think if one would ever like to know their worth try applying (over and over again) for a teaching position - a person MUST be made of stern stuff; it is brutal out here, peeps!<br />
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Insert segue here. On a different note, our escape from this rock is 5 days away...F-I-V-E! 30-second happy dance followed by a shimmy! My beloved Fisherman and I will be making our getaway via the Tustamena, the ferry up the inland passage. <br />
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I have never traveled by ferry so this will be an epoch in my life and one I am very much looking forward to. I am not gonna lie...after the ferry in Japan I was a <i>little </i>nervous.<br />
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<i>Advice we have received prior to our travel</i>.</div>
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<li><b>Make sure to book a <a href="http://www.dot.state.ak.us/amhs/vessel_amenities.shtml" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">cabin</span></a></b> so you will not have to sleep on deck in a sleeping bag. One of our favorite colleagues said that is how she and her husband came out to Sand Point, but they didn't have a cabin and they "toughed it out" camping on the deck. My thoughts were "THAT'S CRAY CRAY, wrapped in a whole lotta NUTS!" I love camping and outdoorsey stuff, but seriously, this is the Aleutian Island chain peeps, the weather out here is NO JOKE. Long story short, WE DEFINITELY HAVE A CABIN!</li>
<li>Have your <a href="http://www.dot.state.ak.us/amhs/photogallery.shtml" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">cameras</span></b></a> ready. The sea really is a living-breathing entity and we should have ample opportunity to see a wide variety of sea life - whales, sea lions, otters, seals, etc. I cannot wait!</li>
<li>There have been many who have weighed in on the motion sickness aspect of our trip. To medicate, or not to medicate, that is the real question.</li>
<li>Lastly, the littles have been telling me all about the cuisine on the ferry. Needless to say, I cannot get an accurate report. Therefore, I will be making a dearth of breakfast burritos, chocolate chip cookies, and stocking up on apples before we board.</li>
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I will post as we travel, but for those who would like to "track" us...here you go.<br />
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<u><a href="http://www.dot.state.ak.us/amhs/map.shtml">http://www.dot.state.ak.us/amhs/map.shtml</a></u><br />
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Sending much love as we approach our departure from this ROCK...<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-80407788839873921502014-04-02T15:21:00.001-06:002014-04-02T15:32:03.977-06:00What is your SUPERPOWER?Today is day 2 of the standardized testing. Yesterday, we tested students in reading and today is writing.<br />
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Before we began this morning as all the testers made their way to breakfast...I sought out the sophomores to give them their beautiful reminder sheet, and their army man...a reminder to "soldier on" and "git 'r done". I do a bootcamp the week prior to testing - a crash review of all the skills they have learned. I find it fitting because what they are doing is technically, combat. The testing in schools today is brutal. Each morning I "pep talk" and give a small token of "you can do it" to the sophomores (their test actually counts for graduation) - reminding them they have all they need to be successful!<br />
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This year thank the sweet heaven above, I am testing the Littles. - well most of them. The 7th grade is testing with another teacher so I have the 8th.<br />
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This morning as we began the test, I was reading the instructions...the students were listening and doing their level best to make sure they did well.<br />
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The first part of the directions is to read through the sample questions and provide an answer for the sample questions. We then discuss the correct answers and students should then move on from there to finish the remainder of the test. However, THIS MORNING...as the students answered the sample questions and I asked them what they got for sample question A - each of them replied with the WRONG answer. Terror flashed in their eyes. I could tell that each and every one of them was thinking "Holy CRAP!, I just got the sample question wrong!" It then took me 15 minutes to calm their frayed little nerves and bolster them up enough for 'em to complete the remainder of the test.<br />
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I wonder where it states in my contract that one of my jobs is to be a "soother of little souls"? Ever think that a teacher does not make a difference...I challenge you to look into the faces of those Littles this morning with their freaked out expressions! I. AM. A. TEACHER...what is your superpower?<br />
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...teaching despite the place,<br />
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<br />The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-11088541911874068262014-04-01T13:14:00.003-06:002014-04-01T14:21:27.982-06:00The BIG 4-OMG!I have been watching (via facebook) and other means as the children of my youth are now turning the big four-oh! It has been with mixed emotion that I now join the ranks of those who have met that milestone. I have no angst or apprehension about turning the actual number of...{{gasp}}forty, but I downright REFUSE to turn forty on the island of misfit toys. That being said Fisherman and I are on the eve of an escape from this rock next week.<br />
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So yes, my **technical** birthday is today, however, I like millions of others will join the chorus of saying "April Fool's!" with a loud and resounding enthusiasm and wait to turn 40, in style - in heels, lipsticked, manicured, properly coiffed, and rockin' my fountain soda in Anchorage! <br />
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Cheers to 40 peeps!<br />
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Sending out all the love I have been given for 40 years,</div>
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-59674675013736483912014-03-28T12:40:00.001-06:002018-06-25T20:03:35.827-06:00Earthquake drill and "Reclaim Alaska"I never fully appreciated the lengths at which the administration
protected (with ferocity) the instructional time within the classroom.
This school year has made me grateful, more than I can even articulate,
the professionalism demonstrated by colleagues in my previous schools.<br />
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Next
week the students will be taking their standardized tests and high
school exit exams. This, in and of itself, not new at all. In Texas it
was the TAKS test, in Arizona the dreaded AIMS test and Terra Nova. In
Alaska, the underclassmen 7,8,9th grades take the SBA's (Standard Based
Assessment). This will attempt to demonstrate whether or not the
students are on par with the other students around the state. The
sophomores take the HSGQE (High School General Qualifying Exam). This
exam differs from the SBA's in that, it determines if students have the
bare minimum education in order to receive a diploma - far easier than
the TAKS or the AIMS tests.<br />
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I consider myself an expert
at helping students prepare for testing both by giving them review of
content (reading and writing) and sharing tips that will help them with
general test-taking as well as test-taking anxiety. The time prior to
AIMS and TAKS was precious - a final "push" to make sure we had done
EVERYTHING possible to shore-up success in our students. I always
viewed this very similar to a football game at the end of the week -
athletes practice during the week, give their best, get ready, and then
on Friday show just how hard they've worked.<br />
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This week
prior to testing next week we have been bombarded with "random crap" and
I have just about hit my "random crap" allotment allowance for year.
Case in point. This morning to commemorate the 1964 great Alaskan
Earthquake, we spent 10 minutes today (technically only 3 minutes)
practicing "duck and cover". We were issued this in our mailboxes.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtjqqWpvkJ05EkVhNY2id_Vc_2A84ZasYSiKv707WNd143kIQsizI8VmP7A59eOcNkBpbhHoflEpj2rFLW8HeIu0AUoIPbT4qjaF9qJN5xRBGjeiXWaK3Jh_LkGQYNGT8ghgMlmdrxRGP/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-03-28+at+9.23.56+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtjqqWpvkJ05EkVhNY2id_Vc_2A84ZasYSiKv707WNd143kIQsizI8VmP7A59eOcNkBpbhHoflEpj2rFLW8HeIu0AUoIPbT4qjaF9qJN5xRBGjeiXWaK3Jh_LkGQYNGT8ghgMlmdrxRGP/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-03-28+at+9.23.56+AM.png" width="275" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our admin has zero spelling and grammar skills.</td></tr>
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As I said before what was supposed to be 3 minutes turned into about 15-20. The juniors (the class that I had during the earthquake "reenactment") took 3 minutes to discuss how stupid this is, another 3 to complain that they wouldn't fit under the desks, 3-4 laughing their heads off while they were under the desk and then another 15 to get settled <i>after</i> it was all done. {{Sigh}}.<br />
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Finally following all that in the morning, we had "Reclaim Alaska". This is supposed to be a grassroots effort to curb the drug use on the island. *If I actually spent some time giving the drug use stats here jaws would DROP! They have started this organization to discuss the problem - and at present, all that is being done <i>is </i>discussion. The meetings are 2-3 hours long and time out of class. The students even say "I know not to use drugs - we don't need group therapy for 3 hours to discuss it!" They are so far beyond done with it.<br />
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Again, this is turned into a "wee bit of a rant" but I would like to know how to review and get my students ready for 4 days of testing, stress the importance of doing well, get their buy-in, when it is clear that the administration and community do not.<br />
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Frus-tra-tion! <br />
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-66986558202732090742014-03-14T14:26:00.000-06:002014-03-14T14:31:08.095-06:00Freezin' my St. Paddys off!Kiss me, I'm IRISH! I am so excited that this Monday we get to celebrate a favorite holiday St. Pat's! Wahoo. I'm sure that I've mentioned (at least to all of those who actually read the blog) that I am a Celt-o-phile. All things Irish, that's my motto. In fact for those of you who don't know, the very handle I used to meet my husband was Irish Eyes.<br />
<br />
My Celtic heritage is a cause for celebration. The last time we were in anchorage we bought a beautiful corned beef that has been mocking me from the freezer every time I look at it. I seriously cannot wait! This year for our St. Paddy's feast I will be attempting an Irish soda bread as well - more on that to follow.<br />
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I know more than a few posts have been dedicated to the weather here, so I'm sorry if another one is coming at you. However, this week the winds have shifted and the weather is coming from the north, which means it is Arctic weather - also known as freakin' freezin'! Shocking, right...cold in Alaska!?<br />
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Our daily weather here keeps me at a slight level of chilled...being the desert rat that I am, I can TOTALLY handle the dry bitter cold, even negative temps. Here the cold has been given an altogether new meaning. I now understand what my Mom, my Aunt, and my Gram all felt. I was sweltering while the three of them (whenever in my presence) were popsicles and truly hilarious.<br />
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I distinctly remember a visit from my Mom and Aunt, I believe it was in Salt Lake (many moons ago) where they were both in flannel pajamas, underneath my down comforter from Germany, and huddled together like two sad little orphans, while watching television. My grandmother on another note wore long johns almost every day of her life including the summer! Cray, cray!<br />
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So now, after many years I yield. Our temperature the past few days has reached a high of 17 degrees accompanied with a wind that literally has taken my breath away.<br />
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Last night, after parent teacher conferences we went home, I put on my PJ's and crawled under my blankets and shivered. Period. Layed there and shivered. Then I layed and shivered some more. I had long sleeve pajamas, long johns, and a heavy quilt on top of me and still I shivered. I was shivering so badly by the time Fisherman got into bed he thought I was having a seizure (well maybe). He plunked into bed and said in his mocking tone "I don't know why you're so cold". Maybe that is how I sounded to my Mom and Aunt all those years ago when I said "It is not cold...I can't believe you're <i>still</i> so cold". Well, I have learned my lesson. I. AM. COLD. Bone-chilling, arse-kickin' COLD! I longingly look forward to going home this afternoon/evening, having some tea, putting on my homemade wool socks, and getting under my covers.The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8232485675763866841.post-67706605421086675632014-03-12T17:34:00.002-06:002014-03-12T20:47:50.004-06:00A squall, a shout out, and EARTHQUAKE!!!!!This morning we woke up to winter - I'm guessing Mother Nature is back off her meds and allowed the cold, blowing snow, and bitter cold to jump up and bite me this morning. I looked outside as I was getting up and it was <i>starting</i> to snow with just a slight breeze. By the time the sun came up there was a FULL ON squall complete with ground winds (which make things <i>look</i> even colder) slithering on the pavement.<br />
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Last night we (or I) was J-O-L-T-E-D out of bed by a CRASH and then a BANG not to mention the violent shaking of the bed (let's keep it PG folks). I asked {{shrieked}} to Fisherman "what was that" - he, already in his coma replied..."Babe, it is just the wind." Wind? Peshaw! I asked him "are you sure?I think it was an earthquake!" It <b>WAS</b> a full on earthquake, 3.7 to be exact. <br />
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When I came into breakfast this morning I was greeted with the usual salutation of "Good morning, did you sleep well?' I grunted something along the lines of "yeah, sort of...(remember human speech early in the morning - like razor blades in my brain)". He then concedes to me, "Babes, you were right it was an earthquake last night, the epicenter was right here in Sand Point"! I was thinking "duh". I may have balance issues, trip over my own feet...often, and walk around in a daze until about 10:00am, but I can <i>feel</i> an earthquake. Helllllo!<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8232485675763866841" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8232485675763866841" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8232485675763866841" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a>Lastly, as I have been questioning my life's work, wondering what, if any, difference I have made in the lives of students - I was pleasantly surprised by the shout out of two former students who are doing MAH-VELOUS things with their lives. Diera and Gloria are students that I had, well Diera anyway, but I claim Gloria by association (having had her sister in my senate). These two lovely women are traveling the world and rockin' the U.K. Gloria recently finished her undergraduate work at Baker University and is now on staff at Harlaxton in the U.K. Diera is globe-trotting this semester and they met up at the Harlaxton Manor. Both girls are social media gurus giving me an awesome "shout out" on Diera's VLOG, so I thought I would do the same. Without further adieu...I give you Diera and Gloria:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/5HBzCShMpgo?list=UUvEIoI1hBWPyMzQy-pU72Uw" width="560"></iframe>)</div>
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Sending love, shout-outs, and shakes,<br />
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The Blonde Bulldozerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10706355874954949252noreply@blogger.com0