Resolution report

Well, two days into 2010 I do not yet have six-pack abs. Nor do I yet have laser vision or the ability to fly unassisted. Luckily, I still have 363 days in which to make these new year's resolutions happen.

Last year, I didn't make any resolutions. I only made a non-resolution: no international travel in 2009. And I am pleased to report that in fact, I did not leave the country this last year. I also made a non-goal in late 2008. Again I am happy to report that I have not run any marathons since making that non-goal. So I am 2 for 2 so far. With that success rate, I decided to dream big this year. Hence the abs, laser vision, and ability to fly. I can't wait to report back on those.

While we're looking at goals, let's check out my 100 long term goals and see how things are going. These 100 things to do before I die were originally posted here, last September.

1. Clean the bathroom.

I am happy to report that the bathroom has, in fact, been cleaned several times since September. But dang. It still needs cleaning.

5. Hang curtains in the living room.
6. Hang curtains over the French doors in the kitchen.

Done and done, ordered around the time I bought the living room rug. But did not arrive until November-ish due to [insert long boring story]... But finally done.

7. Live a year in Australia.

Um... Not done. (Just to remind you of how exciting and exotic the un-done goals also are.)

10. Make applesauce.
11. Can applesauce.

Done and done. With all our apples this year, we canned about 35 quarts of applesauce. So far, we haven't opened a single one of those bottles, because we are still eating apples from the two coolers plus a wagon full of apples in the garage. They have gone soft, and some a little wrinkly, but they taste really great. Did you know that red delicious apples actually have flavor if you store them for a while? I didn't either.

15. Plant a Bramley apple tree.
    

Not done, but Tim found a place to order Bramley apple trees in the US. He has placed an order. We can't wait until 2015 when we actually get some fruit! Then our applesauce will be so good that we will actually start consuming it, rather than just letting it decorate the shelves under the stairs.

19. Obtain a piano so I can play the piano again. I've been holding out, hoping that my parents would let me take the one they never use. But I've about given up on my parents.

I had to give up on my parents and get my own. Which is a pity. I was over at my parents' house this evening, and their beautiful grand is out of tune, and sounds a little tinny in the high notes. Tsk tsk tsk. Mom, you should have let me have it and care for it.

20. Appreciate my parents more.

Obviously still work in progress.

21. Organize the wood pile in the back yard.

Well I haven't done this, but after we fixed our fireplace fan Tim spent some time hauling wood a little closer to the house. We've burned through some of it. Burning counts as organizing for both wood piles and, eventually, my parents' garage.

22. Grind my own wheat.
23. Bake my own bread with my own ground wheat.

I haven't actually done this either, but my mom ground some wheat for me, and I have on at least two occasions substituted a cup of her freshly ground wheat flour for white in the bread machine. And it has turned out very nicely.

24. Paint the living room.

Done.

25. Get my grant funded.

Would be way cool if that were done, but at least I wrote and submitted the dang thing.

26. Vacuum the living room rug. The new one.
    

Totally done. And still needs doing.

28. Play more with my son. Unstructured play.

This morning, I read in a womens' magazine a suggestion to set a timer for one hour, and to play whatever your kids want to play for that time. If it's torture, the timer gives you a way out. What a good idea! But I think I may need to start with a half hour, because I know what my child will choose, and I don't think I can cram my body into that cardboard box for the full hour.

29. Publish a novel. Before I lose interest.
    

Shh! Don't tell -- I have written most of a draft. But it is still many rewritings away from share-able.

30. Publish more research papers. Before I lose interest.
    

Well, at least one more has been accepted since September. But I also did spend an entire December break without writing any more, as resolved in November.

32. Get my bike fixed.
33. Ride my bike to work.
34. In the snow.

This one is sweet. Tim actually took my bike in to be fixed for my birthday, soon after the original post was written. And then I rode it into work. And then two days later it had a flat tire. And then Tim took it in to be fixed again. And since then it has worked beautifully, right up until that day in December when I rode it to work in the snow and nearly killed myself.

37. Make my students laugh.
38. During the logarithmic differentiation lecture. (Good luck, eh?)
    

Well, they did laugh. For example, they laughed unexpectedly and uproariously that one time when I told them that although the answer was ugly, it had a sweet spirit. That was not during the logarithmic differentiation lecture, however, so I guess this one has to stay on the list.

46. Make my primary children laugh.

This one was easier. It could be done simply by calling them all by silly names, for example. Good thing I finished, as I am no longer going to be in the primary.

47. Read nonfiction. Work-related nonfiction counts.
48. Take the family to Shakespeare.

I kind of cheated by putting these two on the list, because I knew I'd be able to check them off easily. I can't get away without reading for work, and I already had purchased tickets to a family showing of The Tempest at the time of the original post. I strongly recommend putting goals you are sure to finish on your to do list. Makes you feel productive.

49. Purchase a loveseat.

Done. Thank you, Ikea.

58. Spend a winter weekend in Arizona.

Done. Thank you, HJ and Chickadeedee.

61. Walk often.
62. Go a week without using the car.
    
63. Support public transportation.

I do walk often, and I have definitely supported public transportation in the last three months, although maybe not with actual money since we're pretty isolated from public transit here. I am not sure if we went a whole week without the car. With my bike fixed, I went many weeks without driving it to work, but we still use it for grocery shopping and library visits, which happen about weekly.

64. Get a haircut.

I finally trimmed my own hair to my shoulders. It is still long enough for a ponytail, but not quite as ratty looking. I consider myself very brave.

70. Finish drying all those #*!@%$ plums.

Finished the plums in September. We are still eating plum fruit leather, but unlike the applesauce, it is going quickly. If our plum tree ever again produces as much fruit as it did this year, I would like to make even more fruit leather, because our stash won't last through January.

72. Reorganize my office.
73. And get new office furniture.
74. No matter how many people I have to call. Call them.
    

I submitted a work order for furniture on August 19th. It will finally be delivered on Tuesday. Wow. That's efficiency for you.

77. Submitted by That one kid's dad: List 23 more things.

Not done.

Wow. Are you still reading? I am amazed at your stamina. Here is a new one you may appreciate:

78. Write shorter blog posts.

Christmas

After waiting over a whole year, which makes up 20% of the little guy's life so far, Jonathan finally received his very own bicycle for Christmas!

After waiting over 11 years, which makes up about 33% of my life so far, I finally received my very own (digital) piano for Christmas!

Tim got socks.

Much rejoicing

Sometime soon here, I will upload some photos. And then I can tell you about our fabulous winter visit to the home of Chickadeedee and Hans Juergen and their wonderful children. In which we filled our days with amazing adventures, such as mornings in T-shirts at the park around the corner. And an afternoon on the couch with a book (for me). (Yes, I just abandoned my child to play with Legos that whole time.) (And yes, when the kids got rowdy I didn't even hear -- you know, engrossed and all that.) (And yes, I do feel very guilty about that.) But how amazing is a holiday in which you can read novels and absorb vitamin D?

(Sorry about abandoning my wild child, HJ and C. If you let us come back in a few years, I will promise to be a real parent in spite of all the interesting books lining your shelves.)

Tim and I had long serious discussions about how we could spend all our winters in the warmth, while keeping our current jobs. Honestly, I bet with some work and a little bit of pixie dust I could rearrange my schedule such that January to April, I worked remotely from Arizona on research. The only real problem would be switching Jonathan's schools twice each year, requiring him to meet standards of two different states. But come on, how disruptive could that really be? Really? I'm kind of willing to live with a scarred child for a little more sunshine in the winter.

But since I have not yet uploaded photos, this is instead a post about ch-ch-ch-changes.

Remember how I've been working as a primary teacher? That is, each Sunday at church I have been teaching the five year olds for several months now? With the new year, that will go away. Next year I will only teach adults. And only every other week. And if any of them sneak up and shout into the microphone during singing time, so help me I will send them out into the hall for the rest of the meeting.

I can't wait.

(Yes, Chickadeedee -- your job! Send me pointers!)

What is up with us

Dear Family, Friends, and Lurkers,

I have not written one of those fancy newsletters in a few years. But after receiving a few newsletters from others, and having kind (extended) family members (through marriage) point out that I didn't need to write a newsletter -- I wrote a blog -- the guilt finally hit and I've decided to write the kind of a post that will update all my family and friends and lurkers on our secret lives in a pseudonymous way.

So here you have it, dear Reader. What is up with us.

Tim and I have been living in our current home for about 15 months, having moved to this town in the mountain west for my job. I am employed at the local university, which we affectionately call Good Old Dude's University. Last year at this time I was feeling much anxiety and work-related pressure. I took out my stresses upon a poor fictitious bald guy I named Bob. My long term readers may have noticed that Bob the Enemy has not appeared in my more recent posts. I believe that is because I feel more settled in my position and more content with life. I have reached the point where I can take out my frustrations on real people.

Tim, my husband, still works for the company in California. He has been lucky to work remotely for a few years now, including that year we lived in England for my job and he worked from 2pm until 12am, with a break for dinner each evening. As far as I can tell, Tim is a combination rock star and workaholic. He is still very hot, and I am still glad he married me and not somebody else. Because that might have made our current living arrangements awkward.

In terms of real news about Tim, I should mention that he has not cut his hair now since August 4, 2008, although he has trimmed his beard about monthly. It's a couple of inches below his shoulders by now.

We have one child named Jonathan. He is learning to speak French this year. Or more appropriately, he is learning to sing French this year. He wanders around the house singing various French songs. We cannot hold a French conversation, except to discuss colors of various objects we point to, and what day of the week it is, but we can sing about firemen and green mice and divine children. I suppose these skills will be useful when we actually visit Paris. Especially the green mice, I hear.

My favorite color is orange. Jonathan's favorite color is blue. I don't know Tim's favorite color off the top of my head, but he uses a green toothbrush. I'm having a hard time thinking of other interesting things to put into this newsletter, so I will stop.

Love and hugs,

Us.

Belief

Jonathan wants to believe in Santa, but now that he goes to a large public school, it becomes more difficult. Yesterday he asked again if Santa were real? I turned the question back to him. Why did he ask? Because the other children sang a song about finding Santa is a fake.

The other children. They were the ones who told him about the Tooth Fairy too. And now, with his fourth tooth wiggling freely in his gums, he tells the gushing grown ups that he can no longer be deceived in that respect.

Fine. I don't feel strongly about the Tooth Fairy. I do, however, enjoy the magic of Santa.

We read The Polar Express, and at the end when the little boy hears the bell ring, when it is silent for all others, Jonathan looked at me earnestly and said that he would believe. No matter what. Because he wanted to hear the bell.

I'm guessing, however, that this will be Santa's last year.

And that last sentence makes me feel sad. The boy is only five. Even if I keep thinking he is six.

When I was seven, I was in the same position as my little boy. Aaron M told us in primary that there was no Santa. His father had told him so. I refused to believe him. There had to be a Santa. He was my only hope.

You see, the year I was seven was the year of the Cabbage Patch Kids. I wanted one. I hadn't really wanted a doll or toy like I wanted a Cabbage Patch Kid. They were all unique, with different clothes and hair. They came with a name and a birthday and adoption papers to mail in. The Cabbage Patch company would mail you a birthday card on your doll's birthday.

That year, we heard of Cabbage Patch thefts and Cabbage Patch violence, as parents across the United States did whatever they could to find their child one of these popular dolls. I wanted one, too, but at least I didn't have to rely on my parents. Santa would be there for me.


Indeed, early Christmas morning, next to my stocking was a pink clad Cabbage Patch doll. Her name was Rachel. She had brown hair in pig tails and dimples. She was perfect, and her birthday was in September, just like mine. All the pictures of that morning include me with my doll hugged tight against my side. I remember the first day back at school, Mrs. Hansen let us each bring one special new toy. There were gasps and whispers when the other girls saw that I had a coveted Cabbage Patch Kid.

I was so lucky, and so proud. That doll stayed by my side until I finally grew out of dolls. I loved her and her big plastic head so much. She was perfect.

My parents couldn't have found a toy so perfect. My parents couldn't have afforded a toy so popular, as I was one of the oldest of six small children at the time. No, my perfect doll Rachel was proof of the existence of Santa.

But even for me, that was my last year.

Tis the season

Last night, I was out until after 11:30 pm grading problem number 10 about 850 times. Where were your TAs? asked a friend. They were grading problems 9, 17, and 20. And the other instructors and their TAs were grading the rest.

Two nights ago, I was out until about 10:30 pm proctoring. Three hours wandering around a room of about 150 of those 850 students, seated every other one, with different exam versions every other row. Checking eyeballs. Making sure backpacks stayed zipped. Loose papers tucked away. Watching the clock. Whispering hushed instructions to questions. Pacing. Sitting. Pacing again. Put the bubble sheet on the left in the stack matching your exam version. Exams go on the right, sorted by TA and section number. Recycle the scratch paper. Double check that your name is on the front. Pacing. Checking eyeballs. Put the bubble sheet on the left.

Tonight, I will sit in my living room with my laptop, sorting grades from 80 homework assignments, quizzes, pretests, exams, corrections, special cases. Tracking down section numbers. Weighting totals, sorting columns, trying out different break points.

And you thought this was a post about Christmas.

Talk about the weather

I wanted to say a word about the weather here. Even though technically winter doesn't start for another week, we started into winter weather way back in early November. Maybe sooner.

And then a couple of weeks ago, the temperature dropped suddenly and drastically. It went crashing down under the freezing mark. It stayed way down there for a long time, probably a little dazed from the fall -- you know, shaking itself off, wondering if it would be worth the climb back up, seeing that it's nearly winter anyway and all.

Just over one week ago we got our first real snowstorm.

See? We even had to shovel.


It continued snowing Monday, Tuesday. I stopped biking to work and walked instead, past all the cars skidding on the ice and all the cars stuck in the snowdrifts and all the people chiseling their windshields out of the arctic cold. I love love LOVE living close enough to work to walk.

Until the snow plow drives by and dumps heaps of brown slush all over the sidewalk.

Wednesday the temperature plummeted even further, cracking through the zero degree Fahrenheit mark overnight. Hovering just above 0F in the mornings, stretching just into the teens during the day.

COLD!

We bundled Jonathan in layer upon layer upon layer, and showed him how to tuck his face into his scarf when he felt threatened by frost bite, how to pull it out occasionally for air. Walking to school became painful, with the boy stopping regularly to ask if his nose had fallen off yet.

Friday night it snowed again, so Saturday morning we bundled up to shovel, preparing for the worst. But suddenly somehow it was warm! Sweating-in-the-overcoat warm. Buy-a-new-bikini warm. Well, ok. Not exactly bikini warm. But definitely above freezing. Maybe even 38 degrees Fahrenheit. Writing that sentence makes me want to cry. I have suffered such torture that 38F is warm.

So in the new warmth, Saturday morning we hiked up the hill and went sledding.

Yes, that hill. Isn't that picture amazing? It took us 17 minutes to walk to the park in the shadow of those mountains.

We live here! I took lots of pictures, my fingers actually warm enough to hit the button. My body was warm enough that I could be in awe of these beautiful mountains, this spectacular place where we live -- for the first time in days and weeks and months! (Rather than cursing out the miserable winter).

Here are some pictures of my men.



Not even very crowded at the sledding hill. Perfect Saturday morning.


Because it was so warm (balmy 38F), the snow was a nice, wet packing consistency. So then my men built a snowman.


And then kept building....
Until we had a lovely snow thing.

Isn't that nice? See, I should blog with pictures more often.

Anyway, this would be a good place to stop, with me warm and happy on the beautiful hill. But unfortunately, not all posts have happy endings.

A new storm moved in Saturday afternoon, but the weather never really cooled down to meet it. So all that afternoon and all day Sunday, slush fell out of the sky and coated the sidewalks with 3 inches of mush. Sloppy, slippery mush.

And then Sunday night, the temperature dropped below freezing again.

And all that mush turned to 3 inches of ice on everything.

And I've had it. Winter sucks. Time to move.