Ordinary Life : Ordinary Life

Showing posts with label Ordinary Life. Show all posts

Sunday Best

The real problem with a hard-hitting, right-on-the-money-Sunday-morning-sermon is my propensity to quote parts of it against my fellow man (and myself) for the rest of the week.

I don't think that's how they're supposed to work.

Leave Space For Grace, Kelly.

(Ah yes...I've heard she was quite the dancer.)

Intro To JavaScript: Drawing & Animation

I am learning new things. Thank you, Khan Academy.

Project: Shooting star

From THAT:

Decide what side of the canvas you want the star to start from, the top, bottom, left or right, and position your star there.

Decide what direction you want the star to move in. Change the variables inside draw so that the star moves the way you wanted.

Add another star or other shape, and animate it going in a different direction.

Bonus: Change the star into a different shape, or have it shoot out of a cannon.

Bonus: Add a backdrop, like a starry night or skyscrapers.

To THIS:

*REFRESH MAY BE REQUIRED TO VIEW ANIMATION, I HAVEN'T LEARNED LOOPING QUITE YET*

Aletheia First Day Fall Term

Our Fall Term started last week.

We rearranged our classroom.

Started with coffee, of course...

Rye insisted she wanted "real" coffee in her cup...

... I think she liked it.

First Period: Individual Grade Photos

FISHER KAI

Fisher is in Jr. High now

6th-ish Grade

LOGAN ALEECE

Logan is finishing Jr. High

8th-ish Grade

CHANDLER BRICE:

Chandler is a Freshman (& not very fond of having his photo taken)

2nd Period: Group Photo

AFTER SEVERAL ROUGH DRAFTS...

ALETHEIA FIRST DAY FALL TERM 2014-2015

3rd Period: Group Work

A peek into one of our favorite classes: Rubber Pencil 101

(and a video about Earthquakes)

Pre-3 runs simultaneously in the same room:

Weather gal :

Fidgets have been added to each desk space~ a listening aid, believe it or not:

A Book Butterfly:

Riley in her "Music Appreciation" tent..a.k.a. naptime:

She now says "I hate music appreciation!"

There were many other things not pictured, like a lesson on Earthquakes, LoF Decimals & Percents, LoF English, 100 Essays: Essay #1: The First Day of School, Lunch & Break Time, Books Aloud and more.

We ended the day with cookies.

In an ideal world, maybe they would have been homemade cookies. That was the original plan, too, make a special treat to close out the day.

But, homeschooling (amongst other things) has taught me that we do not live in an ideal world and sometimes, one must wing it.

The Lady In My Tree

Our FaceBook friend Mitch often posts poetic pictures of the "Old Lady" tree near his home. And, it is a beautiful, old lady tree.

See?

Mr. Mitch is an interesting fellow and I often want to do and be and think and see in step with him.

So, imagine my delight when I discovered that we have an Old Lady Tree too...

See?

Okay, so she's a bit of a hag.

I surely wouldn't eat any apples from this tree. Mainly because it isn't an apple tree, but also because 'she' looks like the witch from Snow White, whose specialty was the Drowsy Apple.

See?

I have friends standing by - ready to call the right folks and administer the right meds for me if the lady in my tree turns out to be from another Disney franchise:

If I hear it speak, I am to repeat:"A tree may speak to me, but only metaphorically."

(...and so help me, if you ever find me running around in a buckskin dress...talking to the trees... wrap me up in my loooong sleeve pajamas please...)

Merge

I recently finished merging all of the old blogs that I could find (and that I still remember the passwords for). This after a period of ducking into my shell... I can be very 'turtle-like', I know. Sometimes I'm okay with all the world seeing all the warts, other times I try to disappear for all I'm worth.

As I merged the blogs, I enjoyed reading the old entries. Many memories and moments were brought back to mind- some of it good and some of it slightly embarrassing... I have been too many versions of me.

One Two Three...Count the Me's ... SeventySix...NinetyNine...One Thousand

I have a terrible memory. If there isn't a picture or journal entry about it, it never happened or at least, not that I can recall.

Reading back over small, conversational details in some of the older entries had a shrinking effect. My eleven year old was suddenly four again, trying to fly like Peter Pan. Years disappeared and in their place the taste of sweet sadness, for the kids they have been, for getting to be there with them but not getting to stay forever.

They won't, you know.

Stay forever.

Steadily they've been moving forward to Time's too fast two step- growing feathers, stretching wings... getting ready more each day to soar away.

As I have been digging through the bones of yesteryear (humming Randy Travis, no lie) through the many versions of me, I realize that I won't either.

Stay this "me" forever.

And I reckon that's a comforting thing, overall.

As challenging as it can be to read back through my really bad writing and naïveté without hitting 'unpublish'- I believe it is a small attemp by me, to live authentically.

I recently said to a friend- after a lengthy email- thanks for letting me 'write' and I know I didn't mean, I think I write cleverly but rather, I appreciate the space to 'think' through some things and try to assign them words.

Most of my recent blogging has become a bit scrapbook-ish...a lot of show and tell. The older blogging was more 'writing', however badly - in that thinking space kind of way.

GUILT

It is funny how a little thing like blogging can start out as mild interest and then, in time, somehow turn into an obligation of sorts. Funnier still, I am only obligated to me; it is I alone dissapointed by my inability to speak these days.

I don't think it is so much a need for attention, the blogging. I mean, sure it is swell when "Aunt Suzie" (not her real name) lauds me as a talented scribe but I could take up professional

plate spinning and I am pretty certain she'd still have kind words to lavish upon me. In fact, I rather despise the "look at me! look at me!" aspect associated with blogging.

Neither does blogging solve loneliness or provide anymore solace than that of a paper journal, at least not for me. Less hand cramps, maybe.

I have no delusions of joining the ranks of today's super women BlogHers. I am pretty certain I wouldn't want that many eyes on me anyway.

I think, instead, my desire to have a public conversation amongst myself is to contribute something: of value, or interest or just something new and/or unique to the landscape.

Perhaps a little psychoanalysis would prove it is a desire to share a little bit of myself with-- well, anyone. (that should probably be clarified, but I'm just gonna leave it for Freud to dissect)

Cynical Me says " There is Nothing New Under the Sun"-- what can be contributed that Dave Barry or Lewis Grizzard haven't already covered? This is a favorite vice of late-- something akin to what my dad once diagnosed a bunch of church members with --- "Eeyorism" (ie; "woe is me" "what's the use" "we're all gonna die anyhow" "the sky is falling" , et al)

This Eeyore disease leads to feelings of " I have nothing NEW to say". I have tried those little daily guides, "Treasure Tuesdays", "Works For Me Wednesdays" and the like-- which only proved to irritate me in the same way that most trends and bandwagon scenarios do. ( I refuse to wear a bluetooth device in my ear, I don't own a pair of Crocs ( I didn't say I don't like 'em-I just can't wear them on principle)

Low Self Esteem Me says " Who are you and what gave you the idea that anyone besides yourself wants to hear that story ?" ((This me usually goes on to say "Shut Up!" and proceeds to hurl profanities and insults my way as well ))

This furthers my plight to nothing new or INTERESTING to say.

So, despite having no good reason for doing so, here goes one more go at the old blogging pony-- and though she be a dead horse, she will be a dead horse well beat.

The Gift of Work

My Thoughts On Work

The words work and gift hardly seem to belong together, but I can remember not having work, searching for work...having work to do is most definitely a valuable gift.
Sometimes I feel like my work matters little. Then I hear my children remembering their manners or my husband pay my work a compliment and my investment is repaid instantly.
When I undertake a project, from baking a cake, planting a garden or building a web page, a connection is formed between myself and my work. I care about the results. I am encouraged to do my best in order to yield the best results. I believe this is an important element that having work to do develops in me.
Having a project flop completely, be unappreciated or lost to damage in some way is as important an experience to me. I have learned that any job worth doing is indeed worth doing well. I have also learned that any job worth doing should be done simply for the satisfaction I get from doing the job and doing it well.
People are my favorite part of work. Whether I am working for others, with others or for the benefit of many others, I find that meeting new people adds a dimension of immense value to my life.
I love to learn new things- work affords this.
Experience also comes from work. Experience is like a very handy bridge that allows you to cross into the presence of new populations.
Places I have worked:

Churches
Christian School
Assorted Daycares
Bridal Boutique
Cell Phone/Electronics Store
Movie Rental Franchise
Movie Theater
Non Profit theatre
Hospital
Coffee Shop
Mall & Outlet retail stores
Home
Pharmacy/Drugstore

This is Jules...one of my favorite gifts from work.

I could never call her a co-worker...even though that is where we met and the only place we ever really spent time together.

If you listed things about us on paper, we'd seem the most unlikely pair--thank goodness no one did that before we shared our first Michelina's meal in the break room!

Jules doesn't live in Savan(Ninev)ah anymore (lucky duck) and we rarely get to talk...but I will always consider her a friend... a gift I received at work.

(We'll always have Wife Saver...)

AMAZING LOVE

Retired Master Sgt. Joseph B. Carnes, 81, of Lumberton passed
away April 3, 2009, at Southeastern Regional Medical Center, with his family by
his side. He served in the Korean War and the Vietnam War, retiring after 22
years. After the military, Joe worked in construction and later contributed to
his community through retail sales.
Joseph B. Carnes was a dedicated family man, always
making sure that his family was taken care of. We loved him very much and will
miss him dearly! He was preceded in death by a son, Daniel Carnes; his parents
Harley & Pallie Carnes, both of Franklin, a sister, Ruth Edwards of
Franklin; and a brother, Zell Carnes of Grey, GA.
Surviving are his wife of 58 years, Rosie Davis Carnes of
Lumberton; one son, Larry D. Carnes and daughter-in-law Myoung-Jin, both of
Florence, SC; three daughters, JoAnn Dudney and son-in-law Jerry Dudney, both of
Lumberton, Kathy Willoughby and son-in-law Mike Willoughby, both of Fairmont,
and Teresa Willoughby of Lumberton; 16 grandchildren; 13 great-grandchildren;
four brothers General Jackson Carnes and Ted Carnes, both of Covington, GA, John
Clay Carnes of Ohatchee, AL and Thomas Carnes of Cummings, GA; three sisters,
Madge Roper of Monticello, GA, Pallie Raby and Thana Smith, both of Covington,
GA as well as a host of nieces and nephews.
~copied from obituary
I am one of the host of nephews & nieces group- I'm a great-niece to be exact. My grandfather is Uncle Joe's older brother, General Jackson (most folks just call him Jack, but a few realize it isn't everyday you get to call a man General because that's his name and take him up on the opportunity) Uncle Joe and Grandpa set out as young men (very young from what I'm not supposed to know!) and traveled around the country. They were quite a team from those same stories I've not supposed to have overheard. :) All that I know to be safe to repeat from those "early days" is that their tattoos were self inflicted in a way most old fashioned and involving heat, pain and soot.
Before Uncle Joe's funeral, I knew he had lived in Alaska during the Great Earthquake. I had heard stories about how great rifts had torn through the earth's crust and how Joe had made some great leaps towards safety. This story always left an Indiana Jones-ish impression on me. I sort of got the idea that he did this sort of thing everyday. I am pretty sure if he were here, he would attest to the fact that daily earthquake hopping wasn't his preferred means of gainful employment. Then again, if you look at his military record, he may well have preferred that sort of daring to "ordinary" living.
Uncle Joe served in both Korea and Vietnam. The soldiers who spoke- and shed tears- at his funeral read to us from various military records regarding his career and character. No one was surprised to hear about his brand of leadership. Some of us- me included- were delighted to learn they used to call him Cannonball Carnes ("because if you didn't follow his orders, he'd roll right over you") and those of us with that "Carnes" disposition-me included- were probably just a bit too proud of that moniker, too. We learned, with some amusement, that Uncle Joe had been involved in Military Charm School. It made sense that he had completed only the bare minimum requirements for graduation, but more sense that he indeed graduated a charming soldier.
I remember visiting Uncle Joe as a young girl. As we were leaving, he allowed a cousin and myself to pick a pair of sunglasses from his merchandise. All these years later, I found a new appreciation for that gift when I learned that Uncle Joe's business savvy and niche for making a profit was a well established fact. Gifts weren't unheard of, but they definitely came from someplace a bit closer to his heart.
A family friend- one of the family's pastors- recounted expecting to get a little discount on his first purchase from Uncle Joe, only to be set aright in his thinking before he was out of the gate.
PASTOR: "How much you want for this, Joe?"
JOE: " Well, what does the tag say?"
Uncle Joe was a resourceful guy- a Do-It-Yourself-er that got things done. He and a host of child labor "volunteers" hand dug the basement for his home. He paid them in coinage and ice cream at the end of each day, and as they realized years later, he'd also invested a sense of self reliance into their lives that matured as a Can-Do spirit.
Uncle Joe left behind a bunch of wonderful people. Folks I am glad to know and be related to. I am sad that I didn't get to know all the wonderful stories and personality traits of my Uncle Joe before he passed, but I count it all joy that there are plenty of memories and stories written on the hearts and spilling from the lips of my family members.
As I get older, I realize this Journey only speeds up the closer to The End we get. There is no "slow motion" or "pause". You really do have seize the days that remain with the people that remain, before it is too late. It is important to ask questions now, to learn all you can while the accounts are still first hand.
The older I get, the deeper my appreciation for family grows, too. Not my family only but human kinship as well. I imagine to die without having been involved in other's lives would be antiseptic. I can't imagine that life vacated could be as rich and fulfilling as a life that has felt deeply- both in joy and in loss.
It has been said "To have loved, then lost is better than to never have loved at all..." I am inclined to agree. Goodbye, Uncle Joe. You will be missed.