Decorate Your Soul

We have three fruit trees in our backyard. I should mention that we are renting a home and so the trees came with the house– if it were up to me, they would have died from lack of watering. I have been extremely apprehensive about eating the fruit off of these trees. I told Andy to go first, but he hasn’t yet.
The top one is the lemon/ lime tree. We aren’t sure as to what type of fruit it has been growing since the green appears to be more of a light yellow. The taste test did not help out — they are somewhere in between. We call them the limons.

The bottom left tree is a grapefruit tree, I think. It looks like it is diseased (can you see the leaves turning colors- certainly the leaves should be green and surely not a mystical yellowish/tannish/brownish). Finally, there is the orange tree. Typically, the neighbor’s cat, the mischievous little backyard gopher or the skunk in hiding seems to be beneath the oranges (the leaves are always shaking). I am just so squirmy (er, girlie) and don’t want to throw myself into the bush (even though I am sporting three large bruises on my arm for becoming an "elevator martyr"  last weekend at the mall… another story for another time) to basket the fruit to eat.

What it comes down to is this: I just don’t trust the fruit. The branches are beginning to hang
low to the ground due to the heaviness of the fruit. I refuse to pick
the fruit since I am so leary of eating it. I haven’t talked myself into
the safety of plucking, peeling and eating home grown fruit yet without being diseased, sprayed or bitten myself.

Circa 1994: Chino High School Junior

I always thought I should have been a spokes-girl for Noxzema with the way I lathered the creamy stuff on my face and walked around the house gracing the smell of this product to my family and passer-byers.
I know I started using it because fancy Nancy (my aunt) does, but can’t remember when I stopped.

Sigh. I miss my hair.

If you have been around a Starbucks in the last six to eight
months, you have probably seen the quotes on the back of the cups titled, “The
Way I See It #__.”

 
Recently, I came across one worth mentioning here since it
affected me to the core. Let me take you back a couple of months when I was at
Linens-N-Things buying a couple of odds and ends (don’t you love odds and ends
purchases, despite the fact that in two months, you can’t even really remember
what you bought?). I am not sure how that cashier and I got on the subject,
(we were probably talking about the wiggly girls in my cart- they prompt so many
conversations…) but she informed me that she was going to school to become a
teacher. Flashback to 1998, I tell you!

{And this is where I need to exercise more restraint and hold my tongue.}

Instead of being excited for her and sharing her exuding energy with a, " Yeah! It’s a very noble profession, you
work hard and have wonderful results that you can take away for a lifetime!" I shook
my head and told her to run. Included in my head shake, I was telling her to basically go
find another calling. Teaching is TOO much work, too many late nights. Not
enough money, unappreciative parents calling you nightmares even when you are doing the
best you can do to help their child be successful. There was another customer behind me that also had been a classroom teacher and she was interjecting with her own past experiences trying to talk that cashier into another career goal.

What I am certain about is this: We didn’t talk the cute little twenty-something aspiring teacher out of teaching in those two minutes, but we took our own experiences and shared all the blech we could so someone else wouldn’t have to JUMP! through ten hoops to get where they really wanted to be in a profession that is constantly changing, yet remains the same.

So when I read The Way I See It #77, I relived my inappropriate insights I had thought about that day all over again. Because in this short statement (on the cup), I felt all the good things that teachers provide for their students. All the real reasons I went into the profession. Because that is my gift. And my students (past and future) have imaginations. capabilities. stories. Successes that need to be tapped into, by the right person.

And this softened my heart:

"The human catalysts for "dreamers" are the teachers and encouragers that "dreamers" encounter throughout their lives. They are invaluable in the quest to turn ideas into reality. So here’s a special thanks to all of the teachers- especially my teacher, Miz Lane!"

–Kevin Carroll "Katalyst" and author of Rules of the Red Rubber Ball; Find and Sustain Your Life’s Work

My husband’s other wives: World of Warcraft and Mark Shoger .

Together on the computer, thousands of miles apart enjoying some guy time.

At 6 o’clock in the morning.

I heard they had a date together on Valentine’s Day, too, while Andy was in Florida.

Two words:

They’re crazy.

June 19, 1982

I made my wedding attendant debut as my mom’s flower girl.

I remember:

Being especially tired…

My hair was done in an up-do in the afternoon and I had to be very careful not to mess it up…

My mom wore ballet slippers and I couldn’t figure out why she didn’t have a tutu on…

My mom crying, a lot…

And another little flower girl out in the foyer had glasses and white satin gloves on, and oh! how I wanted to wear gloves.

Relatives not included, can you guess the hotel this wedding took place at in Reno, Nevada?
I will give you a hint: they have changed their name numerous times (no cheating on google, either!). Worth a small little goodie bag for the right answer