Booties, Booties, booties, Rockin' Everywhere!

Hello to those of you who read this blog! How's it going? Well, I thought I would post about how I finished some projects other then scarves. The lastest are these red booties that would be perfect for a baby elf. They were made for a baby who was just born yesterday (Welcome Alice!). She decided to come the same day we were going to go to her baby shower!

A while ago, I decided I needed a long-term project while I was in grad-school, and that is how the Knitted Quilt came about.

And then there is our ever-evolving garden of potted plants. Here is an aster I planted as a seed. Chris and I were both very proud with how it came out. As for my career as a Special Educator, it isn't always so simple, but then I always knew it wasn't going to be. I did "win" a little "battle" and the district allowed us to have our school's Fall break for the next too weeks. It's a long story, but I am happy that common sense won in this case. It will benefit all involved, especially the students. I just don't really trust that it is true and am waiting for it to be in writing. Always have it in writing, Girls and Boys.

Oh, and I'm happy to announce that I don't look like a Special Education teacher. Friday evening over a few beers with Chris, my coworker and her boyfriend, I informed him I was the SpEd teacher, and he responded with a shocked, "Really?" I guess Special Education teachers have stereotypes of their own. :)

I Am Job...

Literally the day after we got back from our Northwestern road trip, where we visited friends and family, I was placed at a school site in East Palo Alto or Ravenswood City School District. Oh, and in this school district we are not Special Education Teachers, but Teachers of Integrated Services. Their entire school district has all their students with IEP's (Individualized Education Plans) placed in general education classrooms. So most of their teachers, who would be Special Education teachers are Resource Specialist in a big way. I like to call myself an Inclusion Specialist. All these fancy long names still haven't solved the chaos that is Ravenswood and its Special education department. But, literally, the only way is up and I know my hard work and perseverance will make a difference.
At times I feel completely paralyzed in the paperwork and ritualized process that is supposed to be helping our students with special needs. What I call the "real" part of the job, or actually teaching them, planning out what they need according to their IEP's, is basically put on the back burner. We are scrambling to catch up with "past due's," pending IEP's and angry parents.
What I would love is someone to deal with the paper trail, basically a secretary, so I can really start implementing the crap out of all those IEP's. I have about 18 students and each one has a different IEP. Each one needs something different and we have been in school 4 weeks and I still don't feel like I'm where I need to be.
The cool part of my job is the school I am a part of and that I get to work with Kindergartners to 6th graders. And my supervisor is a ball-buster, so I'm hoping we can clean things up, so everything runs well year after year.

Batman

Don't have a good healthcare plan?
Better not mess with Batman

Did you pay for that flan?
Better not lie to Batman

Beaten up, thrown in the can?
Prolly cause of Batman

Too much sun, bad tan?
Nothing to do with Batman

Oregon and Washington Road Trip

A gorge somewhere in Oregon.


The Seattle Amphibious tour. Drive through the streets and then into the bay! Cool!!! Children equipped with quakers for the duration = not cool!!!


Portland beer Festival - good beer, good people.


Mount St Helens - Mr Chris wet himself in excitment. He is still sitting in his pee pee pants.


A tourist trap disguised as a tree!


Crater lake!


We have arrived.

Childrens Art - Levitating Helmet Christy

The Sweet with the Sour

Now that I'm teaching for profit, it is officially my first "real" teaching job and it is in East Palo Alto. Putting out fires is part of the job and let me tell you there are a lot of fires. But the pictures included here are from the breath of fresh air I earned this summer vacation.
The first picture is blackmail. Just kidding - it's my cousins and one cousin-in-law. From left to right there is Keri, Bri-guy, me and Mel. I made sure to visit Chico to see my family there plus my friend, Beth with her new baby, Maia.

There they are! Maia, being the incredibly cute baby that she is, had the most beautiful smile, but when I tried to capture it on film she would get the surprised look pictured here.

We enjoyed our time in Tahoe and had a visit from my school friends, Megan and the love of her life, York and Amy. We also got some more visits from Trebeca with her little girls, Talia and Taylor. We also had dinner at their new HOME in Dayton, Nevada! So cool - go Trebeca and Jesse!

And this is Chris in his sun hat on the deck at the Cabin doing one of his two favorite things in Tahoe: Reading on the deck or going hiking.

At the moment we are a two-income family and proud of it. But it doesn't come without the occasional headache, like how SFSU's computer registration system doesn't think I am a student any more because I got a Master's in May. Yeah, that's great (please note the sarcasm). For those of you who haven't been "in the loop" I have to remain a teacher credentialing student in order to complete my special education credential and earn my Level 2's. Joy to the world, is all I have to say. It's not like my new job is without stress. Well, it definitely is without resources, but I'm sure I'll have more to say about that later. Cheers!

Honest to blog?

After two years of agonizing course work, I now have my two credentials and a masters in Special Education. Weee!!!

So, at first I thought a spa day with Chris would be a nice graduation reward, but after our weekend in Jackson with Joy and Brian, a weekend away sounded so much better. Get me outta the Bay Area!

So Carmel here we come! Luckily we were able to go two whole nights and stayed at the Carmel Valley Lodge - an accommodation I gave kudos to on Yelp.com. Great, quiet and cozy location. Upside was that they bumped us to a room or rooms (the place was bigger then our half of the duplex) with a fireplace. Most other guests brought their multiple pure-bred dogs making the place seem like a sort of dog show. My favorite was the long-haired dachshund named Lulu. The long-haired variety is said to be more friendly, so-said her owner lady. If you are wondering and I'm sure you are, I failed the Constitution Test for a third time. So I asked to meet the Dean of the university that the test was given, hoping to strike a deal since I missed the cut-off by two points. The Thursday I was meant to meet the Dean was also Open House at my student teaching placement, so I came in my teacher's best business clothing. Complete with kitten heels - watch out! When I sat down with the woman, I explained that I could not see how I missed so many when I felt I studied so hard. I also mentioned that I thought there were a few questions whose content was not provided in the study guide that they supplied. Even so, she stood by the results saying that her hands were tied and that the exam was standardized and no strings could be pulled. When she said she could introduce me to the test-prep person, I started crying and had to excuse myself for a few minutes. I did not want to sit yet another exam. When I emerged from the restroom, red-faced, I went back into the Dean's office and told her I was ready to meet this other test-prep individual. By that point, I felt hopeless - so what was a few more minutes of my precious time? Sure, let's go and see how horribly I had studied the test booklet and how inept I am at making flashcards.

After a short walk down the outside corridor we went in to see another middle-aged lady surrounded by piles of books and "Achieve your Dreams" posters. That was when the Dean said introduced me as a very intelligent new teaching candidate who only needed to pass this Constitution test in order to finished. She then looked at me and said, "What does your schedule look like because I thought you could study with So-and-so here then retake the first page of the test so you can make up those two points." I was so happy and of course finally passed. When the Dean corrected the test that morning and announced I had passed, everyone in the office cheered. I couldn't help but give the Dean a hug.

We spent most of the day in Big Sur on Sunday mostly at Chris' desire. Here is Chris in front of the Henry Miller Library which is actually an old house of Henry's friend, Emil. Chris wants you to know in reading this post that Henry Miller did not solely write sexually explicit novels, but pieces about living life simply and about doing what you love. Mr. Miller loved women, art, writing and France. I cracked up at a poster mounted on the door to the bathroom that had a picture of Henry in a lounging position and the words asked, "Freedom, is French?"



Here we are, skin-cancer wary and enjoying our time away from the hustle and bustle. At Pfeiffer Beach there were some beautiful rock formations, to Chris's delight, and tide pools, and a little more tourists that we cared for. But how else would we have gotten our picture taken without other people?The tide pools had a colony of little hermit crabs, crawling happily here and there. They looked so much more active and content in there than any other captive hermit crabs I have met.

That evening we met up with Mom and her boyfriend, Chris (that is not a typo) and had a lovely meal at Il Fornaio. We also made sure to partake of Barnardus wines in their tasting room the first day we arrived, only after going to Jeffrey's for breakfast. We definitely have our favorite eateries in Carmel.

Next on the "To Do" list is to apply for my teaching credentials (the pieces of paper that state you are recognized by the state of California that you are, indeed, a teacher), and apply to different special education positions. Just today I was asked to come in for an interview Friday morning. That interview will be for a Special Day Class for KINDERGARTEN! Love it!

Ok- since we just had a vacation we thought it was time for another. We go to Tahoe this weekend. Wish us luck!

Hills and Valleys

Gardening is a pastime I took on after we had an enclosure behind our duplex and a pretty front porch. I view it as experimental; the seeds I plant can either flourish and thrive or not. If I view it as such, it isn't too disappointing when pretty flowers don't emerge. But, I have to say I find so much pleasure when my flowers bloom and stay healthy.

Like my hydrangea (the green, leafy plant in the front pot pictured above), which I purchased at Trader Joe's in plant form, withered away during the winter. So I pruned the dead growth right above the tiny green buds, that were beginning to emerge. Now it has come back with abundance and I can see the beginnings of the large flowers it will hopefully develop.




This previous fall, I wanted to plant some tulips and the garden center, across the street, sold them by the dozen. So I bought a variety in all different colors and shapes. I know, boorrrring, but as they have bloomed it has been somewhat exciting to see who they will become. The tulip here on the left was gorgeous and I loved its more rose-like petals.


This last weekend I was invited to Joy's baby shower in Jackson and, essentially, asked if Chris and I could come and visit for the whole weekend. I hadn't been out to the Sutters Creek area since Joy and Brian got married around five years ago. It was only two hours away, but it felt as if we were in another state. Rolling green hills and livestock was a welcome contrast to the Bay Area's cramped conditions and pollution.
As you can see below, Joy and Brian's newly built home is in the middle of a large plot of land, or really, a ranch. Another rancher leases the land for his cows, horses, and miniature donkeys. It was truly lovely and I hope we visit often, even if when we go back out there there will be a fussy baby to break up the lowing of the cows and stillness. When we have our own kids, it will be fun to go to Joy and Brian's "Ranch."

As you can see, the boys had fun with Brian's guns, using the ground squirrels as target practice and going turkey hunting (unsuccessfully) Sunday morning. While Joy and I were getting ready, putting together a friend's house for the shower, the boys also panned for gold in the property's natural spring.

In other news, I am in the last weeks of my course. May 16 is my graduation date and I will earn a Special Education Credential, a Multiple Subject Credential and an additional Master's degree. Right now I'm putting out yet another "fire" because I haven't passed the US Constitution test for a second time. This is very disappointing and coming at a time where my time is best spent doing my other studies. I.E.: My master's creative works (like a thesis). It is almost insulting that I have not passed because I know I am smarter than this exam. I passed the RICA the first time around, and that was awfully hard. First of all, this "hoop" is the most frivolous and asinine, in my opinion. I have had four semesters of student teaching and feel very competent in being able to man my own class, but I won't be able to apply for my two credentials without this requirement being fulfilled. So pray that I can pass the next scheduled test. I can't afford to not pass it.

Babies, Babies, Everywhere

I thought I would blog about how some of my closest friends are being blessed by little human beings. Here are my dear friends, Luke and Beth and their little baby girl, Maia! Yay, Maia (pronounced Mya or Maya). She was born March 11th to two very excited parents who will be amazing.

Chris also has a good friend, Josh, who has his own little Maya. Who is going to turn one at the end of the month. This month included, all our invites have been to baby-related events. I love it, but I'm sure it makes Chris nervous.

Another great friend, Lara, just had a little girl (and now her and Scott have a girl and a boy) and you can see their pictures at their family website here. I wanted to post a picture Lara put up on their January 2008 album of her two days before she gave birth to Addison and I thought she looked so big and beautiful with her pregnant belly.

Here's me, Trebeca and Talia, visiting in Tahoe. We get to see Trebeca and her husband, Jesse, when we vacation in Tahoe because they live near there. She is precious to me and I am excited to meet her second baby who is coming this May.

Here are Nikki's precious little girls, Layla and Isabelle, who are some of the cutest little girls in my world. I met Nikki because she was the little sister of my boss, when I was a nanny. I love this picture because you can see Layla talking to her sister - too cute!

So now, along with waiting for Trebeca's baby in May, my other friend, Joy is expecting. This little baby is a little bit of a surprise for her, but God doesn't make mistakes. I hope and pray her baby girl will bless their family.

Look at these two - aren't they too cute? I think they will have a lovely child. I'm invited to her shower in April, so Chris and I are going to try to make it out there. It is always nice to have a little getaway (it's three hours away).

Babies, babies, everywhere... God be with you, my dear friends! Hugs and Kisses. I'll have to try and visit in the summer before I start teaching.

Let's not forget my family's new additions! Here on the left is Thomas, Gabriella and Liam. I made Thomas a red baby blanket when we were eagerly awaiting his arrival. To the above right is my cousin, Mya's family. Their youngest, Morgan, was born around the same time as Thomas, and it said to be even more adventurous than her big brother, Jack. We are surrounded by the babies! Love you all!

It is coming together...at least today.

As my previous blog entries have demonstrated, being a graduate student and earning your teaching credentials is, at times, very stressful. So it is nice when you have a day where the hard work feels like it is paying off.
Today I had, what people in the teaching field call, a Solo Day. This is where the student teacher (that would be me.) plans for the entire day, even the minute details. Like how many copies to make for a certain activity or, exactly who I would like to call on for an answer, finds its way onto my plans. I planed for three whole school days and it seemed to take forever Friday and Saturday - making me stamp my feet and pull my hair a little bit. But all that planning, once it was done and printed out with all the other prep-work done, allowed me to sleep soundly on Sunday and have a smooth day today. Thank you God.
I know Mondays are usually brutal and not-so-fun, especially after “Springing forward” this last weekend, but I am on point the first day of the week. It is Wednesdays and Thursdays I find my energy waning and my caffeine addiction intruding into my thoughts. “Maybe I can get to a Starbucks during lunch recess…”
But today I was on top of it: I had my plans and I was teaching and things felt like they were coming together.
So maybe all those tears cried over homework were worth it? I am not so sure about crying over homework, but I do feel like Student Teaching has been a valuable time of learning for me. Thank to my five-week computer class, that all credentialing students have to take at State, I have taken the Multiple Intelligences online assessment. It showed that I mainly learn by “doing” or kinesthetically. Possibly I’m a boy, like I always thought I was, or the world has come to grasp that girls, too, like to learn via hands-on activities. For example, in my samba class the instructor was yelling at me to turn right and since that didn’t compute, I shouted back to him, “Show me!”
I am a very competent copier. Watching then being able to practice is the best way to learn for me. And I thought I learned best through silliness. My intelligence is being ridiculous. Well, at least that is how I like to see it.
Chris also surprised me with bedside tables today! Today was a really good day. It is incredible how grown up you feel when you get bedside tables. And they are matching. Before these two wonderfully crafted tables we had been using two wooden folding chairs, who did their jobs great, except they were slightly tilted. I could not have a glass of water next to my side of the bed and that was not cool in the flu season. The story behind those previous bedside tables, I mean, chairs, was that were some of our first furniture -- ever. In our first rental, a little 1907 detached cottage in Chico, with a slanted kitchen floor and no insulation, we lived out of our suitcases for a while. Some friends of Aunt Lo and Uncle Greg let us borrow a blow-up bed, meant to make camping experiences pleasant, for what had to be 6 months. We eventually popped it, not due to any newlywed activities, but because Chris was trying to make it as firm as possible. So it blew a seam, giving it a hump in the middle.
You cannot imagine all the goo-ing and gaa-ing sounds that have come from my mouth since we brought these bedside tables in. We are getting there and making our duplex a “home.” Those bedside tables were definitely a figurative “piece” of my home “puzzle.” Like you never knew what you wanted until it is sitting there next to your side of the bed and you are arranging your bedside books, oh, and finally have somewhere to put your alarm clock. Things are coming together, for sure.

And before I forget, here I am with Beth at her baby shower (she should be in labor or holding a cute little baby by now). I made her this blanket. Super fun because she taught me how to knit in the first place. So, sorry to all my other pregnant friends. I would love to knit everyone's new bundle of joy a blankie ala Christy, but they take 4-6 months.

My Dad (Blow Me Down)

Chris and I were watching Gone, Baby, Gone and for some reason the last scene reminded of all those tender times I sat next to my dad on the couch in the comfort of my childhood living room. The story line to the movie has nothing to do with my dad or family in anyway, but lately I have been trying to accentuate the positive and remember all those warm, fuzzy moments. Especially, since my parents divorced not so well, and the bile seems to come up every so often and I have seen each of my grandparents buried (not to mention seeing them in some form of death, when I’ve never seen any dead person before) in the past three months or so. Those moments that bring joy and thankful thoughts and fill me up with happiness carry me through some dark times. Not that I don’t lose it and cry at random times and scrawl “You are okay” in my day-minder because things get very clinical, but I try to maintain with these aforementioned happy little thoughts.
Dad was a big bear of a man, in a small child’s perspective and he still is, but has turned into Santa instead. If you are a fan of the live-action Popeye movie in the 80s, featuring Robin Williams, then you will know what my dad looks like because he looks a lot like Popeye. No, just kidding. He looks just like Bluto, the villain. You know, “I’m mean, he’s mean, he’s mean, he’s mean. You know what I mean,” as the song went in the movie and he stomped forward with a menacing look, bent on smashing Popeye’s or whoever’s face in. That’s my dad! He was your polo and Dockers wearing dad that could silence you with a stern look. But what I have been remembering lately are the memories I have from early childhood. They happy years of Laddie our incredibly short-legged Scottish-terrier, Father-Daughter square dances and before the stressful house add-on.

I know he doesn’t have the affinity with younger children like I do, or maybe he pretends he doesn’t, but I know he tried or at least did a great job with Mike, my bother, and I.
Sitting on the couch does not sound like a great memory, but sitting smushed up beside my dad was special to me. I remember I was not very old and I fit right in next to his big belly under his heavy arm. And as we both spaced out, watching the television, I would listen to his breathing and his heartbeat. Soon enough my breaths would match his and we would breath in and out together. My dad’s side was one of the safest places to me as a little girl.
Going swimming with Dad at the Cabana Club was a rare treat. Looking back at it (don’t hate me Dad!) it was like bringing Bigfoot to the pool. I’m sure the joy of having a parent actually going swimming with you, versus just enjoying Adult Swim while you kick your feet on the wall, can resonate with some of you. It was pure joy when Dad got in. Dad would slowly walk into the pool and center himself in the middle of the 5-foot deep end. It was like having our own personal, hair-covered island! We used him like a jungle gym and it gets better, he was very strong. So with not too much begging and badgering, he would “launch” us into the air and we would fly for a few seconds before slashing down into the pool water. I’m sure the lifeguards loved us.
While life can get particularly complicated with growing up, new family members, death, and masters degrees, but those old memories only get sweeter in hindsight. Thanks Dad!

Winter Limbo

We were very lucky and spent 10 glorious days in Tahoe for Christmas and New Years. It was fabulous and I loved being in the mountains, cozy in the Rice family cabin. One thing it could use is a treadmill, but who is going to pay for that? I think we got in one good walk to the Hyatt, down the street, but after that the walking path was super icy. I didn't feel like getting injured or having a bruised bottom (I always have good luck and fall on my gluts, but after a while it gets sore.). Chris had fun, taking Smally out for walks in the snow (she is more privileged then a lot of people!), skiing, and shoveling snow. Chris and I watched 95% of the Lost series and I got a lot of knitting done.

Sorry to say, I came down with a Sinus Infection and, no thanks to Bluecross, we found a doctor that wasn't hours away. Medication is very good when you cannot sleep.

Christmas: Imagine sitting on a couch with your family surrounded by gifts while a toasty fire crackles in the fireplace. We practiced all our family traditions, such as yelling up the chimney to Santa Christmas Eve, and reading the story of Christ's birth from the Book of Luke. It was unbelievably relaxing. After all the death and drama that followed that it was nice to have Tahoe and Christmas to look forward to.

I invented a new tradition with a gift from Chris. Amy Grant's old Christmas album with "Eeeemmmannuuelll, Emmanuel!" Well, I think the track that sounds remarkably like the Manhattan Steam Rollers is great, so improvized an entire dance to it. There is no greater joy, but to dance while everyone just laughs at you, not to mention that your sweats are pulled up to your breasts.

So, as you can imagine, coming back to the Bay Area and reality can be gruesome and ugly. We get grumpy and don't like life. At least Chris does not because he works regularly. I scrounge for work these days. At my aerobics class I announced to whoever was left (like five sweaty middle-aged ladies) that I babysit, house-sit, pet-sit, what ever you need legally. For some reason one of the ladies translated that as I was a life coach and asked me to help her to focus her life. And another talked to me about organizing her garage. Luckily, no one has followed up on those needs.

Now, I have about two weeks before grad-school invades my existence again, so I feel like I should be doing something, if it's not contributing to society. So I'm reading Opting Out by Pamela Stone - very well written and researched. I also need to read the file full of articles I have on my hard drive about Mother's Rights! Yay! This next semester will be my last. Oh wait - Special Ed teachers are kept on a short lease and we have to go back for our "Level Twos." I think it is a conspiracy to keep us in school and paying tuition - mfs! It's really hard to see a motivating light at the end of this school tunnel because of all the red tape that keeps tripping me up.

After "graduation," I hope to return to Tahoe with my cohorts to party hardy! TGTT = Thank God There's Tahoe! Save the Rice Cabin!

Crying Crazy in Kansas

Let’s bring you all up to date, shall we? This last weekend was great. Friday we buried Grandma Rice in her plot right next to Grandpa Rice and his parents. Not to sound old, but the weather was lovely and sunny. We waited for everyone to show up at the cemetery’s lounge area and at first it wasn’t so bad with a few family members, but then a few friends (non-family) showed. For some reason, that’s when I realized we were there to bury my grandma and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I spoke at the burial and so did most of the people there. The Price family rolled up to the plot in their 100 passenger van, we were there, Aunt Sue, and a few close family friends.
Saturday Chris and I went to Carmel Valley early to eat at the Baja Cantina, a restaurant we were regulars at with Grandma. After having a few hours to get ready in our room at the Carmel Valley Lodge (Very nice…) we headed over to Grandma’s church for her memorial. Each of Grandma’s five children spoke of her fondly. Aunt Louise had a lovely quote, something about how you might have treasure and gold, but my mother read to me. That was totally Grandma – she would even volunteer to read to school children when she could still drive and spoke well. Shortly afterwards we (well, at least I) drank our sorrows away and ate very well at Jefferies (a fabulous breakfast place in Carmel Valley). It was a great time to catch up friends and family.
At the Carmel Valley Lodge we were neighbors to Aunt Sue and got to have a good talk or talks while we stayed there. Sunday morning we stopped by the beach before heading home. We wanted some time to unwind before driving to Mom’s for dinner with the Price family. When we finally returned home that evening I made a to-do list for my day off (Veteran’s Day) and got to sleep feeling satisfied with my emotions about losing Grandma and feeling good about the time spent with family.
Monday morning I was on my way to the gym when my family called me to tell me about bad state Grandma Bates was in. The rest of the day I wondered if I should go out to Kansas to be with her in her last moments. Calling the home she was in didn’t help because they just said something like, “God only knows when He’ll take her home.” Maybe she thought I was being too practical as a Christian, but then I should have explained I was coming from California and wanted their best death estimate. I was mostly trying not to cry on the phone. After googling bereavement flights, I found a good flight going out Tuesday morning. Just before going to bed I talked to my dad who said Grandma was non-responsive and would not even know I was there, but I believed that she would sense someone in the room (It is said that hearing is one of the last senses to go). She still deserved to be surrounded by loved ones. Aunt Barb, my dad’s only sister, told me that the nurse said Grandma’s knees were molding, a sign that her body was shutting down. A friend of mine, Nikki, talked to be a bit online before I finally shut off my computer Monday night and said I should follow my heart to be with her in Kansas.
Tuesday morning I was getting ready for student teaching when Aunt Barb called telling me Grandma had died. I forgot about going to teach and started making plans to fly out to be with Grandpa. So I am here and didn’t hit any major bumps along the way. While I was waiting for a shuttle for the hotel Tuesday night, a van pulled up with a familiar-looking gentleman. I’m sure I had a huge smile on my face as I told the guy next to me, “There’s my dad!” and I excitedly ran-walked towards the van saying, “Hey, Dad!” When he got out I realized it was just a man that looked a lot like my dad and that he was driving a taxi. I haven’t seen my own Dad in a few years, which explains the mix up. The guy next to me, who looked like Tom Cruise and also hitching a ride to the hotel, thought it was the funniest thing he’s seen in a while. So funny, that he told the shuttle driver and hotel clerk about it. Were I kept saying, “That was a little silly.” And shrugging the mistake off.

Hoops and, now, a Sinkhole

Shoulda, woulda, coulda... I feel quite frustrated and sad at the moment because my sweet Grandma Rice has passed. She was everything a grandchild could have asked for in a grandparent. My Grandpa Rice died after a second massive stroke when I was 16 and that was sad, but I have always been closer to my grandmothers than my grandfathers. So losing Grandma Rice (or Boots was her preferred name) has torn my heart open. I feel numb and usually have tears at the corners of my eyes. So, even with buckets of grad school coursework sitting on my shoulders, I don't have the energy to think critically or think about perfect pedegogy. In fact, screw school at least for this time while I collect my thoughts, which have gone back and forth between seeing my dead grandmother and my immense collection of happy Grandma memories.

Let's deal with the bitter end. I was called when Grandma was literally in her last moment. She had been in assisted living for 18 months, which were not very happy times for her and I visited her pretty often. Mom called while I sat in the dentist's parking lot and I agreed to meet her at Grandma's. Through wet tears I drove to pick up Chris a ways away in San Mateo before meeting Mom at the Forum. We got there and I didn't think of what we might encounter; Grandma dying. We stepped in as the Chaplin called the time of death and there was Grandma laying in her bed by the window that faced out to the green hills and a bird feeder. Mom was crouching over her, putting a cell phone up to her ear as my aunt on the other end said her good-byes. I cried and cried and cried. I rubbed Mom's back and then stepped up to touch Grandma's face and hair. Words couldn't come out of my mouth, but I told her I loved her and that I would miss her and good-bye. The Chaplin said Grandma's Spirit was in transition as long as her heart was warm. I don't know if I believed that, but I did know that Grandma was dead in front of me. This was the end of a long and joyful book. Grandma was a sweet, sensitive, loving, tolerant, and fun-loving main-character.

After about twenty minutes Mom came back into the room from having been on her cellphone getting the word out to siblings and said, "Doesn't she look peaceful?" I replied under my breath as respectfully as I could, "Mom, she looks dead." I did not stay when the mortuary came to pick her up, but Mike, my brother did.

On the other hand life is ripping right along even with me in slow motion. There is always a text book to read, a lesson plan to prepare or an essay to write, but for now I don't want to do those things. I want to grieve. Stop the life/gradschool/real-world train because I need to get off. I don't know what I do want to do, but I don't want to preform at a grad school level right now. I'm not feeling competitive at the moment. I don't want to run this race. I need a break.

I will also leave you with some happy parts: Our search for Halloween Pumpkins, Chris's successful tomato harvest, and that I have jumped the enormous hoops and applied for

graduation. That was before now and I'm glad. I also had fun with my friend Becca while we prepared a whole bunch of food for Monday's snack.

But right now it's hard to get excited over much. 99.9% of my extended family are now planning to make the trip to the Bay Area for the burial and memorial. Well, I guess it is sad and happy at the same time. I feel like I'm in one of life's sinkholes. Stuck for the moment.