Spring and random events

Spring has come. The crocuses have bloomed, and the daffodils, and the popcorn tree. We have flowers on the nectarine tree, too. And one of the plum trees.

We have a lovely yard in the spring.

Of course, now that it is spring, the yard wants care. It wakes up and wants you to pull the grass out of the flowerbeds and the flowers off of the gravel path and the gravel out of the lawn. It doesn't do these things on its own. Why not? The lawn, the gravel path, and even the flower bed are carefully delineated. You would think they would know....

Even the old apple tree is growing leaves and new sprouts. This has been a very nice apple tree, pink apples, and someone will love them in September. Someone else.

***

Last night, over at the church, there was a dance party for families. It was a surprisingly fun event. I was not very keen on attending, and Tim was out of town, but Jonathan wanted to go because there were refreshments. (What? That's a reason to want to go?)

When we arrived, the DJ, a musician friend who lives up the street and around the corner, was playing a mix of old dance songs from every decade going back to the 1940s. Every decade. Somewhere in the middle, Jonathan learned to dance the Macarena -- after we older people remembered how to dance it from way back in our singles days in the 90s. For variety, we also learned to line dance to the Boot Scootin' Boogy. And we lined up for the Bunny Hop. And there was even a little polka to the Chicken Dance. Those who knew how also did some swing dancing, and some Latin dancing. Jonathan and I didn't know much. But we bounced around just as happily as the two-year-olds who were so glad to be free to run around the gym at last! Free at last!

It ended up being true fun for the truly uninhibited. And I was surprised at how much I loved it. What a great idea!

Families used to go dancing in these parts all the time -- at least every weekend. I know this, because I have great-great grandparents, and great grandparents, and then grandparents, who owned a resort out by the shallow freshwater lake just across the valley. In the summer months starting before the 1920s, they earned a great deal of money, in good years and slow years, by hiring a big band to come play at the lake. In 1928 they purchased a larger resort, with a famous indoor-outdoor dance floor. Buses left the nearest town at 9 pm on Saturday, so residents could come dance until 1 am. My grandparents grew up dancing, and it remained an important part of their business until a fire burned the dance pavilion in 1968.

I never got to dance at their resort.

***

This morning, Saturday, 8am, I had to be up early and on campus to judge student research talks at an annual college event. Because Tim is away, Jonathan came with me. He attends a math circle every Saturday anyway. He was willing to go early and hang out in my office while I did my judging, then take himself to his classroom an hour later. I had also given him the option of staying home alone. He is old enough to be ok for an hour or two. But he wanted to attend his math class.

When we were all done, Jonathan confessed that he probably would have had more fun staying home. He didn't learn much because the instructor covered material way over his head, without much explanation. Ouch.

I helped out with Jonathan's math group last week. I've been running these math circles for several years, taking Jonathan along. I've stayed with the younger children, though, as Jonathan has moved into older classes. I realized last week that the older classes have changed. A lot. The emphasis is less on "cool math stuff you can do for fun" and more on "hard competition problems you can do to impress your friends and others." The kids in the class seem more interested in tricky problems, and answering quickly, than exploring something new, or examining an old idea from a new angle.

I noticed too that a lot of the children who used to come have dropped out, even the children of other math professors. After seeing the emphasis of the class, and some of the interests of the other students, I'm kind of surprised that Jonathan wants to keep going. Being awesome in math competitions is fun and rewarding, I admit. But when the class is tailored to the interests of those who have more domineering personalities, and want to show their speed skills, and include students three years older, I am turned off myself.

Is it really possible to run extracurricular math events that don't devolve into tricky speedy problem-solving training grounds? For older children? Would anyone come?

***

While you think about that, here is another picture of spring.  A crooked one.

Reaching out

I've been doing outreach activities.

On Wednesday, I ran math games for the teenage young women in our church group.

Thursday, it was my turn to help out with after school math at Jonathan's school.

Friday, I agreed to be on a radio program talking about math and pi day.

And this morning, Saturday, I organized math activities for kids on campus.

Outreach is very important. We need to encourage kids to appreciate math, and to help the community realize math is fun and useful, and a skill that can be developed.

But four outreach activities in a row is a lot. I have used up my entire reservoir of enthusiasm. My smile muscles hurt. Ouch.

I'm going to write papers for a while instead. With adults.

And organize my house.

Next posts: how to organize an international move, parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, up to 70.

Announcement

I promised an announcement, but haven't posted one, because life has been busy. Life is always busy. There are always other things I should be doing first. And maybe there will be a better time to make an announcement.

But meanwhile, while I'm not making an announcement, it's hard to post other random stuff, because why post something random when there is a big Announcement to post instead?

So without further ado....

We are moving to Australia.

I've taken a job at a large public university in Australia, starting in August.

Starting in August, stopping in September for a four month leave while the family will be in New Jersey, and then starting again in January 2016.

Why?

Because Australia is a very nice place to live.

Because the job looks like a lot of fun, and completely different. And I needed something fun and completely different.

Because Tim and Jonathan wanted to go to Australia, if we were going to move.

Because if you're going to have a midlife crisis, why not move to Australia?

Because Australia!

So now what?

Organizing, cleaning, selling stuff, moving stuff, visas, paperwork.

Australia!

Lessons from stake conference

Twice a year, several of the local church congregations get together for a meeting called "stake conference," which name I wish referred to something having to do with vampire slaying, but the "stake" just refers to a big tent, and alas, we don't even really get the tent these days. Stake conference just means we spend two hours listening to people talk.

One of our speakers was a woman who spoke about trials. One of the biggest trials in her life, she said to us, her voice bordering on tears, was trying to home school her eight children.

Um.

Um?

The people in the congregations who attend my stake conference consist of people who all live within a couple of miles of me. And this woman was from one of these congregations, in my neighborhood. And the schools in my neighborhood are great, with opportunities that this woman will never ever ever be able to give her kids at home, like language immersion and AP classes. What a waste of a trial to stress out about something as pointless as teaching kids at home when the local schools are good and the teachers strong. Why in the world would you home school your kids when it is so hard and there are such good people who would teach them better than you can? Why why why?

And then, before I got too judgey judgey (well, ok, after), I realized that my own hardest "trials" right now are also completely self-inflicted and must seem stupid to many of my peers.

Reader, I have a continuing, very secure job that pays very well and a beautiful home in this nice neighborhood with good schools.

But I am moving.

There. I said it publicly.

I do not want to work for G.O.D. University anymore. I feel like a hypocrite working for them. They are a very conservative religious institution, and I have opinions that do not match theirs. And lately, there has been a culture of oppression and fear amongst the natives. I have strong opinions, opinions that I am mostly good at keeping to myself. But sometimes the morally correct thing to do is to share the light and knowledge you have found. I do not want my opinions on something irrelevant (beards?) to get me in trouble with my job. So I'm leaving. I have taken a job somewhere else, where my opinions and questions and concerns on religion are irrelevant.

(And also where the ghost of Lucy Walker won't keep me up at night. But you will have to learn about Lucy on your own.)

One of the reasons I've been traveling so much is that I've had job interviews. And one of the reasons I've been sick is that I've been stressed out. Crazy stressed out up late at night heart pounding crying stressed out.

But we've made a decision -- the craziest decision we possibly could have made -- and it is a good decision and a happy decision and I will post it here soon for those of you who haven't already heard it.

The lady who home schools has reasons to home school that are very important to her, I am sure. And the lady who uproots her whole family from a very good job has very good reasons, too. Or at least reasons that are important to her, even though they may seem pretty stupid to others. And stupid to you. They are stupid reasons. But that doesn't make them any less important to me.

So there.

Resolved

Since this is my first post of the new year, I think it would be appropriate to list new year's resolutions. Typically, I like to resolve to do things that I know I can accomplish, to make myself feel better at the end of the year. For example, "do laundry when necessary this year." Note the vague wording allows some flexibility even on how frequently I change Jonathan's sheets, in case I decide I need that flexibility later.

However, this year will be different.

Why will this year be different? Because I know something about this year that you don't know. I know that this year, the Apocalypse will happen. Around August 2nd, in fact.

In preparation for the upcoming apocalypse, I have a single new year's resolution this year, which can be summed up into a single word: "Organize."

That's it. That's my resolution for the new year. If the Apocalypse is coming in August, then the very most important thing I can do to prepare for it is to organize.

And when I say organize, I do not mean that term to be vaguely worded so I can sneak around it when I need to. I will, indeed, look through every dark corner in every closet in my house. I will dig through all the drawers and make Final Decisions on whether or not to keep my treasures-of-truth from 4th grade. I will purge the pantry. The garage. The side of the house where we stash the old pots we aren't using but might use someday. All these things must be organized by August and the Apocalypse.

And not just house. I will organize my office at work. I will organize my research into a new, exciting grant proposal. And finished papers, sparkly and bright. I will organize my teaching into scanned folders containing notes and assignments and exams from semester to semester, that can fit onto a single hard drive.

Too much? You say. Yes, I have indeed cut off a large amount of work for myself with this resolution.

But ... Apocalypse.

It must be done before then.

Merry Christmas

I blame Craig.

My brother, Craig, who lives in Wyoming, traveled here with his family for Christmas. Two days ago, he asked, "why is it so warm here?"

True, there was no snow, but when the wind blew down out of the canyons after sunset, it was very cold. Icy cold.

"Isn't this a little too cold for an evening outdoor excursion?" we asked.

"Whatever," said Craig. "This is nothing. You realize you're complaining about the cold to the people from Wyoming?"

So we sat through the traffic to walk through the the crowds to see the lights, trying to keep things positive for the sake of our pre-teen, who was more negative than all of the rest of them. Including Craig's three pre-teens all put together.

"It's cold! My toe hurts! Whose stupid idea was this again?"

I didn't take any pictures. But I thought about all the facebook posts I've seen with those lights in them, the hashtag "share goodness", and then wondered about adding our own soundtrack to go with that hashtag....

"Can we leave yet? There are too many people. I'm never doing this again!"

But instead, I didn't take any pictures.

I took pictures earlier.

Kim had the great idea to decorate Ugly Christmas Sweater Sugar Cookies. And we made some winners. 

Tim's sweater.

Kim's sweater.

Mine. That's a reindeer, not a dog.

Kendrick decorating carefully.

The final product.

Only Brent and Grace decided to do their own thing, and somehow Grace's hand got decorated instead of a cookie. Fail, Brent. Fail.

Christmas Eve at my sister Cynthia's house was lovely. Hence I took no pictures.

But the drive home was cold and windy. The wind fought back against the little electric car, and the car barely made it over the foot of the mountain, through the valley, up the last hill to roll into our driveway. Very low battery charge.

Cold, Craig. Cold and windy. 

And then this morning? Christmas morning?

I blame Craig.

I blame the snow on Craig, who wondered why it wasn't cold like Wyoming. Seriously, Craig?

We made the most of it, going sledding at Rock Canyon.

If you die, it is your fault.

Tim.

Jonathan and Tim.

Jonathan.

Boring old scenery.

I don't know what Craig and his family did with the snow. They were 50 miles north, staying with Brent and Grace. We'll call and find out tomorrow. And probably join them again.

Meanwhile, it was a lovely quiet Christmas day with just the three of us.

Tree.

Dinner.

Goodness. Share it, guys.

Since last time

Last time I wrote, I had been here:

Then, over Thanksgiving, we went here:

And then the following week, I was here:

Flying back from that last place, I had a bit of a cough. The next day, my voice was a little scratchy. And then the day after that, chills and aches and fever and I was out. I don't know if it was the same virus that I took with me to Texas -- maybe the work and travel meant I didn't ever get to recover properly. Or maybe it was something entirely new, picked up in one of the different time zones I visited. But whatever it was, it wiped me out for over two weeks. I had to cancel the major trip, the one to South America that I had been planning the longest. And I have only recently been able to stop coughing. Mostly.

Just in time to attend this, yesterday:

Elementary school band. The kids are learning, and getting better. But don't tell anyone -- the performance was about what you would expect of 5th and 6th grade students. Can I say, I am glad that my child did not choose to learn the trumpet? Or any sort of string instrument? Can I say that? Probably not. So I won't.