tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29221944684105182382024-02-21T06:24:40.093-07:00Straightforward DigressionsStraightforward Digressions-
Or what happens when a husband and wife share the same blog.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.comBlogger275125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-11832654399251758412011-10-02T22:09:00.002-06:002011-10-02T22:19:09.345-06:00Why This is My Favorite Season<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lt_739LE6KM/Tok2HrWU4mI/AAAAAAAAAHg/BG2Z674rVf0/s1600/IMG_0738.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lt_739LE6KM/Tok2HrWU4mI/AAAAAAAAAHg/BG2Z674rVf0/s320/IMG_0738.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659113912291091042" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXU2w0zzGbQ/Tok2HL7cuXI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Tf1_wfhvukA/s1600/IMG_0728.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXU2w0zzGbQ/Tok2HL7cuXI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Tf1_wfhvukA/s320/IMG_0728.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659113903856859506" /></a>Well one reason anyway. Happy Fall!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-57975134114944623902011-09-27T19:11:00.002-06:002011-09-27T19:20:44.653-06:00Time for Some Colorado LoveJust in case you were thinking I don't still love Denver, trust me. I do. After all, the equatorial line near Sierra Leone does not boast of 14,000 + peaks. Check it off for mountain #5!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk7FzKjGSWbumsxSC1EafiaL_VeQ0zewmFsUFYnIcZFdSd2FInX5ImoHrS2cVo7xn0JBPV0t-eUtJreJDN9doDn4BlNPLiDnb8htiR9FOSzdBgJwrbA-SYpObx673Vb0PjoWSHsSlr3A/s1600/IMG_0721.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk7FzKjGSWbumsxSC1EafiaL_VeQ0zewmFsUFYnIcZFdSd2FInX5ImoHrS2cVo7xn0JBPV0t-eUtJreJDN9doDn4BlNPLiDnb8htiR9FOSzdBgJwrbA-SYpObx673Vb0PjoWSHsSlr3A/s320/IMG_0721.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657212884210037170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-wRNLMQecfPRX2FCeUPXusBNRYj7VlwAir7AfIvunpao0ly9Uty_Xhwaeqrk8TVt77DfGshoRcabHvpAYduDL0cWjqO4t0GoIE75XnmWpQ2cItL4oXnH24W3hyttTh-lOY0xZbd2v04/s1600/IMG_0717.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-wRNLMQecfPRX2FCeUPXusBNRYj7VlwAir7AfIvunpao0ly9Uty_Xhwaeqrk8TVt77DfGshoRcabHvpAYduDL0cWjqO4t0GoIE75XnmWpQ2cItL4oXnH24W3hyttTh-lOY0xZbd2v04/s320/IMG_0717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657212878352935698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzF4Ojai4alQgZhyphenhyphenB8gQSvSLTRzf7TwHklJyiI2puQeq-aYULKOJqnPk_0bi-6GgzPvWVBUjAcxoONWhglWvoUGt7UNZLuLXCRV5aMtCg_sF_rShROcKSscbS-VAPZSPXrVZM9am8stI/s1600/IMG_0710.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzF4Ojai4alQgZhyphenhyphenB8gQSvSLTRzf7TwHklJyiI2puQeq-aYULKOJqnPk_0bi-6GgzPvWVBUjAcxoONWhglWvoUGt7UNZLuLXCRV5aMtCg_sF_rShROcKSscbS-VAPZSPXrVZM9am8stI/s320/IMG_0710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657212865162223282" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxxCKMjS1pz0lsZtybVIVV3d2GdFVbbOtksb0YAR4PdpZc3e-bnVho32iCwlBkojJINQbmjSl_SpGjno6dH_yUqjLdN4HVc2ettxhJZ0SCQ69T3PpiNc9QyN9zjZSF_zE7kGVhshE_Lng/s1600/IMG_0714.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxxCKMjS1pz0lsZtybVIVV3d2GdFVbbOtksb0YAR4PdpZc3e-bnVho32iCwlBkojJINQbmjSl_SpGjno6dH_yUqjLdN4HVc2ettxhJZ0SCQ69T3PpiNc9QyN9zjZSF_zE7kGVhshE_Lng/s320/IMG_0714.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657212890283233650" border="0" /></a>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-42815159840278837712011-09-25T19:38:00.003-06:002011-09-25T20:00:37.983-06:00One of My Heroes<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vOUwMmL0Mm0/Tn_ckN7sMbI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nog7gIC5GPk/s1600/281.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vOUwMmL0Mm0/Tn_ckN7sMbI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nog7gIC5GPk/s320/281.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656482171774054834" /></a><br />I have had Sierra Leone on my mind. In a <strike>good</strike> wonderful way. Last night our friends from our church community group had Eric and I over to their home to share with friends about our summers. I was able to share a lot of pictures, answer many good questions, and hopefully peak interest for future trips with some of the people there. This morning in church I was also given the opportunity to share about Sierra Leone and the teacher team and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/cotni.org">Children of the Nations </a>. This was an incredible opportunity, and I'm extremely thankful that the opportunity was given to me. We have a great church. But more on that later.<div><br /></div><div>Yesterday and this morning, I was able to explain how I got involved with COTN and Sierra Leone because of my friend Sarah. If it hadn't been for her, I could be missing out on a family that I wouldn't have ever considered. When Sarah called me and subsequently convinced me to go in 2008, I don't think she realized the impact that this would have in my life. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am thankful. Thankful that in college, Jesus placed the desire in Sarah's heart to go to Africa. Thankful that she went to Sierra Leone for a year right out of undergrad. Thankful that for 3 years she led teacher teams back every summer. Thankful that she stepped out in faith to raise her salary and become the Sierra Leone Education Liaison. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've heard it said that it can be difficult for people to stick with NGO work, due to discouragement, the reality of our world's brokenness, and lack of support. But I see the faith of my friend despite many odds and her perseverance. As Eric put it- No one can love and advocate for those children just like Sarah. </div><div><br /></div><div>So thank you <a href="http://sauniers.blogspot.com/">friend</a>. Thanks for introducing me to Sierra Leone. I'm forever grateful. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxCTQz6KcoI/Tn_ckb96OvI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/jjyN-EsNz_w/s320/548.JPG" /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-75991105009319815622011-09-18T17:33:00.001-06:002011-09-18T17:49:54.589-06:00For Today<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zBCDEcngAC4/TnaC-w-VnhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/zjA9HhCYcCE/s1600/315.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zBCDEcngAC4/TnaC-w-VnhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/zjA9HhCYcCE/s320/315.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653850397020102162" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E2Z2g82rabU/TnaC-aNf-gI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Ujx1jJwx4n4/s1600/400.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E2Z2g82rabU/TnaC-aNf-gI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Ujx1jJwx4n4/s320/400.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653850390909680130" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCT6R3W0azs/TnaC-AbZjJI/AAAAAAAAAEk/sE_vtEUbU5g/s1600/301.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCT6R3W0azs/TnaC-AbZjJI/AAAAAAAAAEk/sE_vtEUbU5g/s320/301.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653850383988657298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I wish I was here.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love Denver. But Denver has been busy this Fall. Sometimes I wish my only duty could be to hold a child for an hour or two. Or to tell you more about Salone. I'm hoping soon.</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-89381804500259738342011-07-31T21:24:00.004-06:002011-07-31T22:08:13.591-06:00All Children...This year in my somewhat debatable either mid or late twenties, I have started feeling older. Really, like I am finally a grown-up. Now don't worry, this post is not for bemoaning my beginning gray hairs or wrinkles or need of a good solid night's sleep. No, the fact that time marches on is simply a reality I saw most clearly this summer, particularly in the children.<br /><br />When I first went to Sierra Leone in 2008, I met cute little Mariama and our sponsor child Janet.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8o5N36rsUH34SmHCSV6qjiHk_e3Nh54LxhMlR6gI6yzRUWjqDI70VD1VwlrBHUrbKzgHVWo4fd-qCJ9cPqsNwe4V1lquzyclwTQj6F3hESbEteYwyBVPxEuyjKb70_uyLVQ7RWUGsCcs/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8o5N36rsUH34SmHCSV6qjiHk_e3Nh54LxhMlR6gI6yzRUWjqDI70VD1VwlrBHUrbKzgHVWo4fd-qCJ9cPqsNwe4V1lquzyclwTQj6F3hESbEteYwyBVPxEuyjKb70_uyLVQ7RWUGsCcs/s320/IMG_1543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635733005110908338" border="0" /></a>Mariama was almost still a baby. She wanted to be held all the time; she went through this phase where she wouldn't smile for pictures, and she didn't really talk in English. Three years later, she is a girl. A big girl, I might add who likes to assert herself and take charge in social situations. When I entered her village of Ngolala (pronounced Gwola like balla), she grabbed my hand and directed myself and the team straight through the middle of the village to her home. When we arrived, she bustled around and got all of us chairs to sit in (quite customary), passed out all the babies to the women (ditto), and then proceeded to change from her school uniform into afternoon attire. She also, I might add, directed who needed to take a picture with whom, making sure of course that she was in a plethora of shots. Quite the hostess with the mostess. And no longer that cute little baby I used to hold.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAtEyrUnsJklonVPFB7Vtw_4I5_bqe0HsTkNq-w6eBOy5ylA12NPGoclKLMeOCqb51gsHok-ySW1MAxfYcv-X0h2aIumhNOPUqRlPWfRgt_C6NTYyHrpQEjZar1PuRqHHkZvTOVdiSF8/s1600/577.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAtEyrUnsJklonVPFB7Vtw_4I5_bqe0HsTkNq-w6eBOy5ylA12NPGoclKLMeOCqb51gsHok-ySW1MAxfYcv-X0h2aIumhNOPUqRlPWfRgt_C6NTYyHrpQEjZar1PuRqHHkZvTOVdiSF8/s320/577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635733016205508034" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1H0QkUaKFyTnC3v6mS1GbyGz8FMTdtrHshQwPB7b8Jl3qYOzAxSvnJcqY0oW_hNpZ7XXqKDuB9k99IDy3jWo_tLeh46hzTopksuxgI3L6upxtSkfEEI64mYn-cYc_AExFAo0Ebhyphenhyphen6gM/s1600/IMG_1602.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1H0QkUaKFyTnC3v6mS1GbyGz8FMTdtrHshQwPB7b8Jl3qYOzAxSvnJcqY0oW_hNpZ7XXqKDuB9k99IDy3jWo_tLeh46hzTopksuxgI3L6upxtSkfEEI64mYn-cYc_AExFAo0Ebhyphenhyphen6gM/s320/IMG_1602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635732986649755634" border="0" /></a>Then, there's Janet. When I met Janet in 2008, she was an incredibly cute 8 years old girl. She tagged along with me everywhere I went, held my hand constantly, and played ga-ga (a rock game akin to jacks) and hand-clap games with me galore. Now, she is 11. She is an incredibly, beautiful young woman. But as most 11 year old young women go, she is too old for hand-clap games and too young for serious conversation. She is, as well, maybe a little bit in that awkward stage. But I love her all the more and was glad for the particularly sweet moments we had toward the close of my trip. I was encouraged to here that she is going to church on her own, since 11 is such a critical age for such decisions of faith. She is on my heart and in my prayers as she continues to realize and decide who she is and what she wants to become. I have many fears and many hopes for her that seem especially pertinent given the fact that she is entering a new chapter of life.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsobrkHf9wv7MVY13ALjt8j69mr04Ab5hokXB_1uqClii2rBTJnvEsKQo0hj1VfCY1LAmezezY-iqQXLc6h5dW9HfdeJnEMTTj_S8MFNqxiA1cJA9YmIssUk8ZUvhgpQt8bZ-nPgoh9pM/s1600/334.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsobrkHf9wv7MVY13ALjt8j69mr04Ab5hokXB_1uqClii2rBTJnvEsKQo0hj1VfCY1LAmezezY-iqQXLc6h5dW9HfdeJnEMTTj_S8MFNqxiA1cJA9YmIssUk8ZUvhgpQt8bZ-nPgoh9pM/s320/334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635733022478744290" border="0" /></a><br />Seeing these precious ladies grow is one of the things I am thankful for with the opportunity to see Sierra Leone again and again. For many people, visiting Banta once in their lifetime is an incredible experience that they (and I for them) are thankful to have had. To come once is to see God in a grander capacity at work across culture and to see new faces that you can call friends. But to come again is only that much richer. This could be another post in and of itself, but for now let me say that I am incredibly humbled and thankful that these girls do not stay stagnant on my fridge, forever frozen in time. Instead, they are dynamic, same as me. And as I change and God changes me, so He does the same for them. And I can bear witness to it.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-13219732564809179012011-07-29T13:40:00.003-06:002011-07-29T13:47:10.472-06:00While the Owner's Away...The weeds will play. Except, they're not messing around.<br /><br />Calling all people who deserve to have yards... What do I do about this?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76SzEoYO0xcHvYEvM-Y6c8WSG4tt-aLCrk_4K_q5QODsDLQ7gVyBu_d_GaIEIVApl4xHh_AWZ7T1hlV4R7EfBCTu0q42-i5dx3j2bY0QoHtOVGZBD1zetdoGvahNpp2tDhYpcis6A7j4/s1600/IMAG0023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76SzEoYO0xcHvYEvM-Y6c8WSG4tt-aLCrk_4K_q5QODsDLQ7gVyBu_d_GaIEIVApl4xHh_AWZ7T1hlV4R7EfBCTu0q42-i5dx3j2bY0QoHtOVGZBD1zetdoGvahNpp2tDhYpcis6A7j4/s320/IMAG0023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634862932697386386" border="0" /></a>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-74608435562326865002011-07-28T21:48:00.003-06:002011-07-28T22:24:40.646-06:00The Art of Bluffing<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDzcOBbSS0DNjaeCv2lDUTWO_XGh2G-55N5amGZu6uemd3sf7CewTOYRsOnlMUtU2nT7S6v_curIkS-kAva345knm-J9g8-mxk8ie8CrrIF61D25X4TnPT8EmFl0mBF-NMbw0wSwiyyc/s1600/202.JPG"><br /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Bluff.<br /></div></div>Definition: To make oneself <strike>look to cool for school</strike> show-off<br /><br />Examples:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">DE de bluff.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUVvYqR2X1KWnw3FwJ5kgtGL-SS4xWG4K81hog_InYDB0df7IEw9SgHsKJB-X7T-IlvQruTbLb9iCtXdTw1Fbt_rcYoZdEObkfkANyqxu_YOQIAvJbxQD9L05FBvO7PdfZhSrsKIHL1c/s1600/519.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUVvYqR2X1KWnw3FwJ5kgtGL-SS4xWG4K81hog_InYDB0df7IEw9SgHsKJB-X7T-IlvQruTbLb9iCtXdTw1Fbt_rcYoZdEObkfkANyqxu_YOQIAvJbxQD9L05FBvO7PdfZhSrsKIHL1c/s320/519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634619712282424610" border="0" /></a><br />Na pekin de bluff.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2frTwaABdFJxGcsh0aqDLk8r5Ffb-Dgm_KzhZZTjU1sOEvwsLNmszU4K7TkH52e8fiSdmk9hSa8bRqPl6FDMhJnvUS9RGMjxXEXADuWz9oXXT04IpFeKByEwMxcz0YF2xl3cXVMrCpag/s1600/514.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2frTwaABdFJxGcsh0aqDLk8r5Ffb-Dgm_KzhZZTjU1sOEvwsLNmszU4K7TkH52e8fiSdmk9hSa8bRqPl6FDMhJnvUS9RGMjxXEXADuWz9oXXT04IpFeKByEwMxcz0YF2xl3cXVMrCpag/s320/514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634619723075743506" border="0" /></a>Na pekin den de bluff.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc8rm9fBMBTCpfG29UJ73rm5H4Vnm8xrgWbIv9ByRKlWlgQHO4NlZSrZmaJQn1UtNmlGPh54PbouuKM33KCE7oHggBSZpDeob_-vfBYBGyve2cSgN-quCTRsMXFfyfGwawzMICHX99CY/s1600/534.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc8rm9fBMBTCpfG29UJ73rm5H4Vnm8xrgWbIv9ByRKlWlgQHO4NlZSrZmaJQn1UtNmlGPh54PbouuKM33KCE7oHggBSZpDeob_-vfBYBGyve2cSgN-quCTRsMXFfyfGwawzMICHX99CY/s320/534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634619735130430690" border="0" /></a>Ah de bluff.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDzcOBbSS0DNjaeCv2lDUTWO_XGh2G-55N5amGZu6uemd3sf7CewTOYRsOnlMUtU2nT7S6v_curIkS-kAva345knm-J9g8-mxk8ie8CrrIF61D25X4TnPT8EmFl0mBF-NMbw0wSwiyyc/s1600/202.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDzcOBbSS0DNjaeCv2lDUTWO_XGh2G-55N5amGZu6uemd3sf7CewTOYRsOnlMUtU2nT7S6v_curIkS-kAva345knm-J9g8-mxk8ie8CrrIF61D25X4TnPT8EmFl0mBF-NMbw0wSwiyyc/s320/202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634619727778962098" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-35986294280853964322011-07-27T12:29:00.003-06:002011-07-28T22:25:17.535-06:00By Faith<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg94DDmMdhuVjc4gS-axrvKJZGrwg2X5lgTryC7CID0Yxs5yBuH2ZxJSQEPfgjCLTctFH6Giasla4tpwfgSBMxhCqH22MH_-g4jvwDSt7iCSfouX-LloNO1PdtXUAAqKFTRWx2Ipvdzc/s1600/630.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg94DDmMdhuVjc4gS-axrvKJZGrwg2X5lgTryC7CID0Yxs5yBuH2ZxJSQEPfgjCLTctFH6Giasla4tpwfgSBMxhCqH22MH_-g4jvwDSt7iCSfouX-LloNO1PdtXUAAqKFTRWx2Ipvdzc/s320/630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634110563406412898" border="0" /></a><br />I am back in Denver. Time in Sierra Leone was incredibly sweet and comfortable, and while I have numerous thoughts and stories to share, the process of where to begin seems quite overwhelming. So little by little I will go, but for today let me share with you the faith moment I had during my time away.<br /><br />I am not one keen on emotional responses, particularly in situations or events where there seems to be an expectation to have one (say like in Africa). So I am often thankful when God works in the midst of my stubborn personality and brings me those moments in the mundane.<br /><br />One of my biggest fears about leading a team was getting my team successfully from point A (US) to point B (Salone). I may or may not have had a few nightmarish dreams prior to leaving about losing teammates, and in all my previous trips to Sierra Leone traveling never went smoothly. So, while I and other prayed for 'travel mercies', I was not truly shocked to get to Accra, the capital of Ghana, and hear that they had overbooked our Kenya Airways flight and that we would be stuck in Ghana for two days. <span style="font-style: italic;">Of course we would</span>. I was quite cranky but the fact that I had almost expected it made it worse. Throw in the mix that, in my quite limited opinion, Ghanians seem more equivalent to New Yorkers in their attitude of helpfulness as compared to their West African counterparts in Sierra Leone. <span style="font-style: italic;">A good reminder that Africa is not one country, but I digress.</span><br /><br />My team left three weeks later and were of course all somewhat nervous about the return voyage via Ghana. In my clear-headed, logical course of thinking I had decided <span style="font-style: italic;">(hilarious)</span> that if they simply got on their Kenya Airways flight on time that they would have no problems in Accra since the Delta flight would arrive and leave on schedule without massive overbooking. Thus, I got my team to the airport at an excessively early time to ensure they had seats and just in case gave a girl on my team calling card and contact information in case of an emergency. <span style="font-style: italic;">Good think I did</span>. As I was coasting off to blissful sleep around midnight, I received a call that my team was stuck in Ghana for one day with still no confirmed flights for all team members. This time- Delta. Apparently the Delta employees in Accra decided they were tired and went home before my team could de-plane and receive their boarding passes. So while the Delta plane sat on the tarmac, a few hundred feet away my team was once again sucked into the black hole of Ghana.<br /><br />Therefore, I had NO faith that I was getting out of Ghana without getting stuck and was quite premeditatively cranky about it. Eric had asked people to pray Stateside and I had petitioned all my Salone friends to pray for me too, but deep down I was already stuck in Ghana in my mind.<br /><br />The night before I left as I was sitting in my little guesthouse room in Freetown, I realized (thank you Holy Spirit) that I didn't even have a mustard seed's worth of faith that I would make in through Ghana on schedule. And while the fact that I wasn't carrying seeds might please U.S. Customs, it definitely did not please or bring glory to God. It's funny once I stopped to consider my state of belief, since I realized that subconsciously I believed that Ghana was bigger than God. Which of course logically speaking is ridiculous, after all even singing vegetables know that <span style="font-style: italic;">God is bigger than the Boogie Man</span>. But it is what I truly believed. How could I see God at work in a million ways in Sierra Leone or in my life but believe that God's power could not be made manifest in Accra.<br /><br />So I went and laid my fears and doubts before the Father (thank you Jesus). And it was not a lot of faith that I was able to give. But I did feel strengthened and re-encouraged to depart.<br /><br />If I say flights went smoothly, that would give most of you seasoned by American travel an improper idea of how things went down. But relatively speaking in the sense that I arrived on time for all my scheduled flights and had a seat on each, it did. This- is nothing short of the grace of God. And I am hear to tell you that indeed our God is bigger than Ghana. Thanks be to Him.<br /><br />Incidentally, this is the kind of small moment, Big God story that might be shared during Testimony time at Church of the Nations in Sierra Leone. You would begin by saying, <span style="font-style: italic;">I wan fo tel God tanki</span>. I have many of these moments that I am excited to share with you soon.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-35368449591190702762011-06-10T14:24:00.006-06:002011-06-10T14:35:56.546-06:00Sierra Leone Bound<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqEB-kVeVp39H3ipXARui78E6kPpR2i6q-eHLLtlcIayZIjQekb2FSvpvudXKkgrxYU9gNiW7GTOmmBPuqpoDuL3UZiloR02YGPYTBo7l2HVasigxJBxJKfhrrcbmTn1xXXn0MZUWdnA/s1600/IMG_0024.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqEB-kVeVp39H3ipXARui78E6kPpR2i6q-eHLLtlcIayZIjQekb2FSvpvudXKkgrxYU9gNiW7GTOmmBPuqpoDuL3UZiloR02YGPYTBo7l2HVasigxJBxJKfhrrcbmTn1xXXn0MZUWdnA/s320/IMG_0024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616691434578135058" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I wrote this as a letter, but I thought I'd post it to my blog too...<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFjQUYkHPZPKwlPOogw1nENY9aitQ-olZ1LhbuQf54FAweLnMYtAEX8AI3g_sXwTnuKPEWJDqvTDwmzTmcImJsUszMuANGec6CqjbVrNVBFhXwi_6sQrs2RhTwOia33aFAnFqiDecXBs/s1600/IMG_2499.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFjQUYkHPZPKwlPOogw1nENY9aitQ-olZ1LhbuQf54FAweLnMYtAEX8AI3g_sXwTnuKPEWJDqvTDwmzTmcImJsUszMuANGec6CqjbVrNVBFhXwi_6sQrs2RhTwOia33aFAnFqiDecXBs/s320/IMG_2499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616690897461286370" border="0" /></a><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> 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<w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">This will soon be my view, and Buwa will soon be my greeting!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As many of you already know, I am returning to Sierra Leone, a country in West Africa, tomorrow to continue working with the national teachers and the Children of the Nations education program. Returning has such a nice sound to it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I remember when I visited for the first time in 2008.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Excitement met fear, and I wondered what in the world I thought I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What happened that summer<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>is that I met a lot of teachers, other adults, and children that were people just like me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They had strengths they shared, and I had mine.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We took these gifts from the LORD and did life together.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And I am excited to do this again.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This year, I am taking a leap of faith and adding Teacher Team Leader and Team Host to my in-country responsibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This had led to a busy season of preparation, but I look forward to being stretched and grown in new ways.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As team leader, I am leading our team of 8 to work with the national teachers through inservices, co-teaching, co-planning, and modeling.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our inservices will cover assessments, teaching English as a second language, math strategies, cognitive development, being a Christian who is an educator, the reading and writing continuum, and leadership development within the school.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When the teacher team leaves on July 3, I will be stepping fully into the role of Team Host.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As the host, I will be working with the other Children of the Nations teams as a liaison between them and the national staff.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It will be a wonderful opportunity to see other pieces of the puzzle that are building strong community and future leaders in the area of Banta Mokelleh.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Perhaps, most importantly, it will give me more time to spend with my padi, or friends, in this special place.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I would like to ask for your prayer during my six weeks away.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Summer is a busy season, but knowing that you are petitioning the Father on behalf of myself, our team, and Sierra Leone will be an immense encouragement.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know that HE can do great things in this nation, and my prayer is that I can be a part of it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Please join me in praying:</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For COTN (cotni.org), in its mission and vision as an organization in Sierra Leone.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>For safety and health for myself, my team, and all the teams coming and going this summer.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For unexciting plane flights that come with no delays or problems.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="">v</span></span><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>For excellent interpersonal relationships between the team and the national teachers.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For an attitude of servanthood from both the national staff and the international visitors.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For cultural differences to enhance, rather than destroy, relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For the LORD to meet team members where they are at and reveal more of Himself to them.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For personal wisdom, grace, and clarity in duties or conflicts that may arise as Team Host.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>For personal faithfulness in spending time in prayer and rest before the LORD .</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-fareast-font-family:Wingdings;mso-bidi-font-family:Wingdings;" ><span style="mso-list:Ignore">v<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>F For our marriage to be strengthened as Eric and I are apart this Summer.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I value your prayers.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What a blessing it is to have good and faithful friends on both sides of the Atlantic!</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9E2r5g1S6iju6kV7gfVEYTVas1-YFZNMF67-ShdGK3O3BdSFxTHy-UZ58XGce6xrlgRjYYjVjol_nPP-EKUvIf6ZlNpBvEQEGT2Hq57iPZF5HiELdCaK_xw3iGgnEnU_vjUzcFyCKIk/s1600/IMG_2395.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9E2r5g1S6iju6kV7gfVEYTVas1-YFZNMF67-ShdGK3O3BdSFxTHy-UZ58XGce6xrlgRjYYjVjol_nPP-EKUvIf6ZlNpBvEQEGT2Hq57iPZF5HiELdCaK_xw3iGgnEnU_vjUzcFyCKIk/s320/IMG_2395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616690909282186626" border="0" /></a>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-89779621970401811442011-06-09T22:55:00.002-06:002011-06-09T23:54:11.755-06:00Better5 years ago and a few more days the Dallas Mavericks were playing for the first time in the NBA Finals. They were going to make 2006 special by winning, but sadly on our fourth day of marriage they started losing- badly. In ended that same way (the finals, not our honeymoon).<br /><br />Tomorrow is my anniversary, and tonight the Mavs gave us a 5th game win to lead the series 3-2. I am glad to say that just like the Mavs, our marriage is better after 5 years.<br /><br />Love you Eric<span style="font-size:78%;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">(way more than Dirk...)</span></span>.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-67333432970448143532011-06-05T22:16:00.003-06:002011-06-05T22:49:47.819-06:00Fortunes, Flying Solo, and FutureLast night, I got Chinese take-out, always an excellent choice on a solo Saturday night. I even got two fortune cookies since Eric was not around for sharing. Where is Eric, you might ask... Well Eric is gone, gone, gone for Air Force chaplain training. Gone to the tune of 3 months, which for us will be a record. Before this, the longest was 3 weeks, and two things were much better about that time apart:<br /><br />1. Weeks<br />2. I was the one gone.<br /><br />But, we will survive. Minus my bout of emotional crying during good-byes at the airport that may make you think otherwise, I am doing fine. I've lined the kitchen cabinets, killed hoards of moths (what's up with this moth attack, Denver??), duct taped a window (re: moths), and eaten take-out Chinese by myself on a Saturday night. The latter is my biggest feat yet. It's come as a shock to realize how much Eric entertains me!<br /><br />But back to fortunes- for I was lucky enough to get two. When I opened them, I had to laugh...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc4aWcmODmi9ULH_1IHjWGinZA3OZc-E7NNysJimXPCFxKZaLa4y_7yMDKgi1u4ahZHizfpWvNFQ8R4q87RL1xnwZf-NW0TFZZwFCJ9bfxOJNIwI9LfVWS5XyDhG-9S20y2VqsZ7bQwU/s1600/IMAG0016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc4aWcmODmi9ULH_1IHjWGinZA3OZc-E7NNysJimXPCFxKZaLa4y_7yMDKgi1u4ahZHizfpWvNFQ8R4q87RL1xnwZf-NW0TFZZwFCJ9bfxOJNIwI9LfVWS5XyDhG-9S20y2VqsZ7bQwU/s320/IMAG0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614964307431081106" border="0" /></a><br />First of all, anyone who knows me well knows my best ideas always come in the shower. Seriously. I think my successful interventions for my students have always come between shampoo and conditioner. So really, I got this fortune in the bag. It's more like a cheerleader "Keep up the great thinking" reminder. Perfect.<br /><br />And then, onto Changes... I feel like I could mostly sum up life right now with that word. Eric being gone and beginning what will hopefully become a career in the AF is biggest change Numero Uno. Then there's the fact that I will be gone in Sierra Leone for 6 weeks and trying out team leader and team host. And how about that half my friends are leaving Denver (crazies) and leaving me to my own devices, like Saturday night Chinese and the urge to walk up to random people and befriend them. Which leads into my favorite question, "What are you doing in 2012?" To which I reply, "We are living in ambiguity" which is code for 'We will have no idea what changes are coming for a long, long time'...<br /><br />Good thing we will settle happily.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-24911027058042975222011-05-03T21:54:00.003-06:002011-05-03T22:07:29.541-06:00Just 11 More DaysKindergarten is coming to a close. Soon my students will only have memories of "how fun center time was" <i>(the thing by which they define all "fun-ness")</i> or of how they did or didn't learn everything they needed to learn in Kindergarten.<div><br /></div><div>Today was a particularly sweet day with them. They worked independently as I feverishly DRA-ed <i>(a verb many teachers are familiar with)</i> and as I would send them away saying "Go ask a friend" <b>and they would</b> I marveled a moment at what progress they've made this year not only academically but also relationally. </div><div><br /></div><div>I say this all the time to my colleagues, but I have an extremely kind class. Not always so well behaved, but very kind kids*. </div><div><br /></div><div>Kids like...</div><div><br /></div><div>My one who wants hair like Justin Bieber because his hair is so cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>or </div><div><br /></div><div>My one who promised to write me three different stories tonight because he is a writer.</div><div><br /></div><div>or </div><div><br /></div><div>My student who has written a whole "book series" <i>(re: notebook paper meets tape)</i> on the sequel to Jill from "Jack and Jill" the nursery rhyme. </div><div><br /></div><div>0r </div><div><br /></div><div>My student who wants to be a teacher when she grows up and thus informed me that she therefore needs to practice holding the pointer on the board daily.</div><div><br /></div><div>or</div><div><br /></div><div>My student who proves she's been listening by telling another student "That is not approriapte!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Some days it's good to be a teacher. Especially as summer is coming.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*My college professor would not approve of me calling them kids as they are not baby goats. I digress...</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-52536016437318342592011-05-02T20:22:00.003-06:002011-05-02T21:37:24.059-06:00A ResponseThere has been a lot of talk on facebook today filled with non-violent postings that appear to judge others' more ecstatic reactions to the news of Osama bin Laden's death.<div><br /></div><div>I don't agree. I may not be a famous activist (many of whom I admire) with eloquent words but allow me to explain my thoughts from my Christian worldview. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am glad this man is dead. He has perpetuated much evil in the world and would be continuing it now if he were still alive. Yes perhaps the LORD would have called him to repentance, but we are not called to guess "what-if" but instead are called to be advancing Christ's kingdom. This is why I work with education in Sierra Leone. And this is why we appoint leaders to help eradicate evil (and to call evil "evil") where we see it. And I believe that God is at work through leaders and nations <i>(Proverbs 21:1),</i> and that through them He does deliver justice and give us relief as we struggle here on earth waiting for His Kingdom. </div><div><br /></div><div>So when I heard that bin Laden was dead, I was not relieved <i>(God was still Sovereign when he was alive on Saturday), </i>but I was glad and thankful. Thankful for the reminder that sin and evil will not reign victorious forever. Glad that as a Christian I can say "This man's repeated actions against many people of many nationalities and faiths were absolutely wrong and needed to be stopped." And to be glad they were stopped. Now many people were glad that would say they do not believe in Christ. Their gladness and mine speaks to the desire that recognizes evil and longs for something more. A desire that I believe points to the reality of God. This, I might add, is the same feeling we feel when the White Witch is defeated in C.S. Lewis's <i>Chronicles of Narnia</i> or Sauron is eradicated in J.R.R. Tolkien's <i>Lord of the Rings</i> or Voldemort is destroyed in J.K. Rowling's <i>Harry Potter Series. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>I was not, however, gleeful or giddy. Instead, I was sobered. Because I know that the only thing that separates me from bin Laden is the grace of the Holy Spirit in showing me my need of God, Jesus' conquering of sin at the resurrection, and the Father's love in drawing me to Himself and refusing to let me wander away toward the evil of my own devices. And the magnitude of this grace makes me feel small. But it does not keep me from naming an evil ruler an evil ruler or being glad that an evil ruler is gone. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I would imagine that many of my friends might agree with me. And I recognize the sentiment of their posts and their disgust at sensationalism. But for my friends that are Christians, I would caution to not let the popularity of isolated quotes on non-violence or post-modernist thinking muddle our call or voice to the belief of absolute truth. </div><div><br /></div><div>I do think the response of our President is a good one. He talked in his speech about how "Justice has been done." And then gave a reminder to America that we need to love our Muslim neighbors here and abroad. </div><div><br /></div><div>Let's move forward reflectively in love.</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-56661631839409998352011-04-28T22:04:00.002-06:002011-04-28T22:12:34.989-06:00Job Perks<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.childinjurylawyerblog.com/bounce%20house%20castle%20safety.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of many.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was invited to the birthday party of one of my students this afternoon. The benefit of teaching at a neighborhood school is that it was a two minute detour from my commute home. In addition to continuing to connect with my student's family, I was also invited to watch him and his bff (also in my class) compete for my attention doing flips and twists. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And then I got in on the bouncing fun. And got a *now* six year old's description of where everyone else in my class lives in relationship to the bounce house. The only sad part was that I had to leave too soon.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Though I'm sure I'll relive the memory tomorrow- I did promise they could share about it at our morning share time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-56035053802262217542011-04-18T17:50:00.002-06:002011-04-18T17:57:03.077-06:00What Warms My HeartBig, thick manuals telling me how to do my job.<br /><br />No sarcasm here, either.<br /><br />Being a super type-A person, I received a manual that lays out in nice flow charts what I'm supposed to do as Team Host in Sierra Leone this summer. <br /><br />As, Sarah put it, "She'll have it read by the end of the week." True.<br /><br />What is a Team Host, you ask? As teams with Children of the Nations come to serve in Sierra Leone this summer, I'll help them out. A basic "Kindergarten style" definition for sure, but it pretty much sums it up. If you want to know more, I <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> have a very lovely manual. <br /><br />I do want to clarify that I am still also leading the teacher team and working with the teachers (yay)- just call me a woman of many talents.<br /><br />Time to read.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-84551382043851567802011-04-15T00:18:00.006-06:002011-04-15T00:39:33.417-06:00For Sarah<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NTBCEpzNfnI/TafmuCvprMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QgnNwC1xzZk/s1600/P1030151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NTBCEpzNfnI/TafmuCvprMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QgnNwC1xzZk/s1600/P1030151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Over Spring Break, I went to visit my friend Sarah in Seattle. Part of that trip took us up to Sol Duc in the Olympia National Forest.</span></a><div><br /></div><div>We stopped by a lodge on the way to do some waterfall hiking and were kindly but emphatically warned that the path was probably too snowy to hike. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2mJnTciwcs/Tafmt4JhO4I/AAAAAAAAAEI/CmXk_EXrhd8/s320/DSC_2231.JPG" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Truth: There was snow. Second Truth: Colorado might not win for rainfall, but we do have real snow.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, last weekend when Eric and I headed up to the mountains of Colorado, we went hiking with our friends. We didn't bring enough pairs of snowshoes because we felt like there wouldn't be too much snow to bog us down. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9gwjjMeg16w/TafmtLXVKdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/YDxrqfGSCmg/s320/P1030115.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PZrRn4X0JtQ/TafmtmmbAnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2JVQey6lNgc/s320/P1030149.JPG" /></div><div>Truth: There was snow. Second Truth: We needed two more pairs of snowshoes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. There were multiple feet of snow. At first we fell only a little, but then we fell some more and then more and then every single step.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully, Grace came through and shared a snowshoe. Though in the end, it <i>was</i> too snowy to hike.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NTBCEpzNfnI/TafmuCvprMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QgnNwC1xzZk/s320/P1030151.JPG" /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-53356762025434076592011-04-13T16:27:00.002-06:002011-04-13T16:30:29.917-06:00Birthday WishesThis one won the card contest:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">May your day be filled with sparkles, smiles, <span style="font-weight: bold;">children who keep their clothes on</span>, and lots of listening!</span><br /><br />Only other teachers know what the best wishes are.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span></span></span>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-26726623685257961852011-04-11T21:59:00.003-06:002011-04-11T22:20:35.531-06:00Busy.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7d9S7-8Mjk0/TaPSNd4aaMI/AAAAAAAAADo/N_7lUIRfAjM/s1600/P1030158.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7d9S7-8Mjk0/TaPSNd4aaMI/AAAAAAAAADo/N_7lUIRfAjM/s320/P1030158.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594546290925660354" /></a><br />So, I'm busy. Ha-right. Of course I'm busy, I'm American. Yes being a team leader is <i>a lot</i> of post-work working and now I'm pulling my clothes out of suitcases on the weekends for 3 weeks running and, and, and.... I'll stop before I lose you, because, well you're busy too. It's our American simultaneous blessing and curse. And chances are as you read this, you're thinking of how busy <i>you</i> are. <div><br /></div><div>Perhaps, you're like the Special Ed staff in my district who have all their Sped documentation due on Frdiay.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or like my friend who's busy being a mom and working and selling a home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or one of the med students I know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or Eric who just had about one and a half too many projects for school this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>This isn't one of those posts on how we should all take time to smell the roses like some of our friends in other international communities. It's just life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Which is why, I am thankful for the respite afforded to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>For things like the Rocky Mountains. And good friends to share them with. Even if it means one more weekend out of a suitcase.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QVM5P9h4Ol8/TaPSNoSng-I/AAAAAAAAADw/G8rU25U9o0M/s320/P1030168.JPG" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-14747413763959324162011-04-03T14:29:00.005-06:002011-04-03T15:18:29.753-06:00Yes, I Do Appreciate It<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYNtuRbWng9HLEyIok2koCYOlQ5Faj0nkRRcExobrCC57U1pnFIyDTtbtb2ieA2n5sAmf2HciRcUKCAFOFzUxzAPMY4pJpmKDLL4wuA-Tuc9hv-Sd-b8rQ1oKDVlNOYzouYdlIbB2UTU/s1600/DSC_2436.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYNtuRbWng9HLEyIok2koCYOlQ5Faj0nkRRcExobrCC57U1pnFIyDTtbtb2ieA2n5sAmf2HciRcUKCAFOFzUxzAPMY4pJpmKDLL4wuA-Tuc9hv-Sd-b8rQ1oKDVlNOYzouYdlIbB2UTU/s320/DSC_2436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591468302884302674" border="0" /></a>This past week I spent my glorious Spring Break- in the land of (almost) no sun- Northern Washington. I am grateful that a week long break from reading groups and runny noses and the hilarious conversations of Kindergarten is in order being a teacher. I'll consider it my perk for constantly being told how awful public educators are.<br /><br />I ventured with my dear friend Sarah up through Seattle, Olympia National Forest (I think!), and Victoria, B.C. (because after all, Canada is always awesome). We were even in Port Angeles, now famous thanks to Ms. Meyer.<br /><br />Sarah was the most excellent tour guide. The last time I had ventured up here was during my senior year of high school during which time I suffered from both awkward-hormonal-teenageness and also a bout of food poisoning. Washington is now redeemed.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmV64n2LAKEe5dyPxJ6oVBl0posG_xzMIJ4JT3f4KBSTdEcnwsEkFuuDmk7j-PmdX-TP_QpZnfMcH8KIJVgKkpAIi5cX2zRvkOmfUvH3klgmt248COcONcN-SPctegykVzumrkEaYGLI/s1600/DSC_2260.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmV64n2LAKEe5dyPxJ6oVBl0posG_xzMIJ4JT3f4KBSTdEcnwsEkFuuDmk7j-PmdX-TP_QpZnfMcH8KIJVgKkpAIi5cX2zRvkOmfUvH3klgmt248COcONcN-SPctegykVzumrkEaYGLI/s320/DSC_2260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591467282077661330" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9UrOqmYpzfn_kp4zXs9-OITO3N89JxMsBD5yjxxs0X_wKLzLaDYRjls2FYg9NxDGVDVWfHTmoNj4w0TdxPgnvHNnkle1vWbRApZUKD8wHhfL0sOulQfgApZqotVRktn0M49W3ceH0Nk/s1600/DSC_2397.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9UrOqmYpzfn_kp4zXs9-OITO3N89JxMsBD5yjxxs0X_wKLzLaDYRjls2FYg9NxDGVDVWfHTmoNj4w0TdxPgnvHNnkle1vWbRApZUKD8wHhfL0sOulQfgApZqotVRktn0M49W3ceH0Nk/s320/DSC_2397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591468296985250258" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaMJLhIsRu9P_BbAtep2tKawVU3QTDyKuv09JLSx0yqFGCHLzON_T0oBKGr2g6M3FjliBYIm-72kFFnWzNEmYx2IXobXjn2kDjhIvcmBiRYyP7O-Uj7Df0_04c3-oORpkxWziZhT5a6A/s1600/DSC_2311.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaMJLhIsRu9P_BbAtep2tKawVU3QTDyKuv09JLSx0yqFGCHLzON_T0oBKGr2g6M3FjliBYIm-72kFFnWzNEmYx2IXobXjn2kDjhIvcmBiRYyP7O-Uj7Df0_04c3-oORpkxWziZhT5a6A/s320/DSC_2311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591467289554857650" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryJYrMz5bzu1QtLzjaA9m_ALixacC3bFolZ6XboajqZjF6eVMK5reKmAvLpgRHMvhBR-YK9mv3sG2_0Q-YWN6ppafRm9Vz8431ZOMvgjYJIi0BUdllZ4DZPd1CLnhs_QE4r_UjT8lkrQ/s1600/DSC_2400.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryJYrMz5bzu1QtLzjaA9m_ALixacC3bFolZ6XboajqZjF6eVMK5reKmAvLpgRHMvhBR-YK9mv3sG2_0Q-YWN6ppafRm9Vz8431ZOMvgjYJIi0BUdllZ4DZPd1CLnhs_QE4r_UjT8lkrQ/s320/DSC_2400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591468288666594722" border="0" /></a>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-29403905479087309762011-03-20T22:29:00.002-06:002011-03-20T22:34:15.105-06:00Today I Discovered Them- Under the Bed<div style="text-align: center;">Look at them all. In all their stinky white glory.<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6nlYXRyxY0ccXBw0vzc3ynH8O5pq64bo1ijV7eeK4VfQPqgtg3W6bAWnNLZ1FeCljvuTxbBAT3RvpWLh431kI6VM9I_uztab0zmywLmvw8A2whyphenhyphenZ1tnp9B3SY2A2u1gXjObIfJ2ZxEM/s1600/IMAG0240.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 191px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6nlYXRyxY0ccXBw0vzc3ynH8O5pq64bo1ijV7eeK4VfQPqgtg3W6bAWnNLZ1FeCljvuTxbBAT3RvpWLh431kI6VM9I_uztab0zmywLmvw8A2whyphenhyphenZ1tnp9B3SY2A2u1gXjObIfJ2ZxEM/s320/IMAG0240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586386674964940194" border="0" /></a><br />I have a <strike>bad</strike> habit of wearing socks to bed only to unconsciously push them off in the middle of the night. I've felt like I always go spelunking to the foot of the bed to dig them out in the morning, but apparently -obviously- that's been less than true. So, I'll be back to working out in matched socks, which is quite a relief. My type-A self really cannot handle the toes on my socks being two different shades of pink.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-36091738140329417112011-03-16T20:49:00.004-06:002011-03-16T20:56:18.378-06:00To Whom It May ConcernDear World,<br /><br />If you happened to run into me today, and I seemed sad, mad, cranky, disillusioned, or overwhelmed- rest assured I wasn't.<br /><br />I just have this-stupid-cold.<br /><br />And stay away from my classroom. We are a cold festering machine. <br /><br />Love,<br /><br />A Sickie (aka SnotFace)<br /><br />p.s. in case you didn't know, <a href="http://www.walgreens.com/store/c/neilmed-nasaflo-neti-pot/ID=prod3356564-product">neti pots</a> and <a href="http://zenfulyoga.com/?tag=down-dog">downward dog</a> do not mix well.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-29820911340601241022011-03-09T20:54:00.003-07:002011-03-09T21:14:11.240-07:00Here I Raise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AY1tbq3TnDs/TXhMu9lbClI/AAAAAAAAADg/gXPODMT3YTo/s1600/IMAG0239.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AY1tbq3TnDs/TXhMu9lbClI/AAAAAAAAADg/gXPODMT3YTo/s320/IMAG0239.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582296107814947410" /></a>When I was in college, I spent a summer in Mexico soaking up the sun under the guise of earning credits. Having gone to a Christian university, one of the classes I took was on Christian faith. In this class we explored our life story and God's workings within it. As part of my presentation, I went out to the back lot and found my very own "Ebeneezer" or stone of help. (Hopefully, I didn't have to declare rocks on returning to the States.) As told in the Bible, the prophet Samuel set aside a remembrance rock to remind God's people that "Thus far the Lord has brought us." It was a very meaningful exercise for me at the time, and I have held onto it for the past seven years. Like most anyone, I haven't thought about the rock in a while, and quite honestly, I don't remember or listen to God as much as I should.<div><br /></div><div>This year, though, with the approach of Lent, remembering has been much on my heart. Our small group's discussions on <i>Crazy Love </i>have prompted us to decide collectively to fast during this season and take time to listen and deepen our love for God. Eric gave the homily at an Ash Wednesday service today, and this has prompted good talks in our family about putting Him first. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I picked up my Ebeneezer today, I read phrases of events on there that I had completely forgotten. And I'm glad that I could remember. But I'm also ready to move forward. </div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-83615541851804538052011-03-03T21:29:00.002-07:002011-03-03T21:44:13.410-07:00It's Probably Cause They Are Cooler than MeAlright all you gym membership folk out there.... time to sympathize or empathize!<div><br /></div><div>So when I go to the gym, in addition to burning a few calories and perhaps building some muscle tone, I people watch. Hey, everyone should have a motivator. And as I was people watching today while attempting to do something to my legs in time for swimsuit season, I came upon this realizations:</div><div><br /></div><div>A: Some people inherently look <i>awesome</i> as they work out, like they were born in a gym.</div><div>B: Some people <i>look like</i> they have no clue what they're doing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I say <i>look like </i>because sometimes they are actually doing a great workout. It just doesn't look pretty.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a B (not to be confused with my personality). I can't seem to walk straight on the Stair Master. I adjust the leg machines about 20 times to find the perfect weight and height. I <i>always</i> seem like I am in someone's way when I'm lifting dumbbells for my arms. And while kickboxing might be fun.... well, yes. My jab is less than awe-inspiring to say the least. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am not sure what the criterion is for looking like you and the gym are one, but please I'd love some tips!</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-25069921512947995892011-02-23T22:02:00.002-07:002011-02-23T22:06:24.029-07:00Ashes to Ashes, Fishbowl to ToiletOnly the strong survive. <div><br /></div><div>And by strong I mean 1 of 9 goldfish. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully, my students lack observation skills that notice things like 8 fish missing. I mean <i>oh dear</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>So while I break out <i>Where's Waldo</i> books to practice this needed skill, I will be wrapping up this fishy unit and moving on to worms. </div><div><br /></div><div>Worms, consider yourselves warned. </div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2922194468410518238.post-89240174442927629812011-02-21T12:21:00.002-07:002011-02-21T12:34:22.680-07:00Drop the Topahh dreams...<br /><br />I have always been quite the vivid dreamer. For example, I can still picture in my head quite clearly a nightmarish dream I used to have when I was 3 - 5 years old. <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">an old farmer-ish man in blue overalls and tall, yellow straw hat climbs over the red brick wall into our backyard. he carries a burlap sack to kidnap me in. </span>I wake up. <br /><br />I am also a classic <span style="font-style: italic;">dream i got up and left for work</span> dreamer. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I've been so disappointed to really wake up and realize I have to get ready for work all over again. <br /><br />Or how about these recent dreams (in which apparently all my subconscious fears of leading a team come out)...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">our team gets all the way to banta to discover that i have left one of our team members at the jfk airport. i leave freetown and fly back to new york to retrieve her, only to discover that i left my passport in banta. yes. my dream ends with the menacing airport security approaching me for my passport. <br /><br />i arrive a couple of days early to sierra leone only to discover i've brought almost nothing in my carry-on and didn't take my other suitcase (not sure why). </span><br /><br />There's a kind of anti-malarial medicine you can take just once/week, instead of every day. However, there's a side effect of potentially crazy dreams. Obviously, it is not for me.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09403685539630144347noreply@blogger.com2