Of many happy - though undeniably LATE - memories of my Arcadia Nights, America's Funniest Home Videos holds a special place in my heart. Once the homework had been completed and outfits decided on for the next day, we would cozy up on our respective couches and prepare ourselves for another hour of fun hilarity. We began to hope that Tom Burgeron was the host, because we had learned that Daisy Fuentez was supposidly more looks than great commentary. Most recently I was watching an episode [though NOT as funny without the late night coma or partners in crime along] I snorted...SNORTED...outloud at the following 2 videos.
Video 1: because this little girl knows just what to try to get out of her punishment! She certainly tries hard, I'll give her that. But I wish I had been there to shoot the pretend gun. Bam! Bamm! You'll understand that once you've seen it once...or twice...or like me 3 times!
My goodness! Once she hits the ground she doesn't even MOVE!
Video 2: no other explanation is needed other than -can you say
Oops! I mean Father's Day...but sometimes the case may be called for the above mentioned title. (This card is in the mail- I just laughed so hard that I didn't want to wait until you got it) That is what dads are for right? But really. I wanted to commemorate fathers day with some favorite recollections of MY wonderful Dad.
The TOP Three that I could think of that is:
1) This was the man who would come home from an early beginning and long work day to read books to me; that is before I could read, and whenever I could convince him to do so after I'd learned to. I distinctly remembering to "read" Cat and the Hat, Berenstein Bears, and most particularly when I had broken my collar bone, I, Houdini. This led to a whole new world of reading, and in fact a shared love for all things Harry Potter. In fact, the story of me becoming hooked on Harry begins with my Dad. I came home one summer from college to work one of those lovely summer jobs. I was comfortably moved into a basement room when a small, blue, paperback book mysteriously showed up on my pillow one evening. Now as most books go, I am willing to give it the good 'ole '2 chapter' try. Except the title "Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone" was not high on my list of sophisticated reading material. Thus beginning the Harry Battle. Starting with that first night I carefully placed the book on my bedside table and picked up other reading material. I awoke the next morning, paused as I looked at that little blue book, and continued in my morning routine. That evening I was surprised as I pulled back and rearranged my pillows and blankets for another night sleep, when I saw a small, blue book sitting comfortably ON the bed. "That's strange" I thought to myself as I less carefully deposited the book on the floor next to my bed. The next morning, same routine, but I definately made sure to remember exactly where the book was. As I came into my room later that night...yup...you guessed it. The book had made it back onto the bed; just waiting for me to read it. Now I know this was my Dad's work. Seeing as how he had been attempting to discuss plot lines [as many devout HP fans tend to do with each other] everytime we talked. Now as a good daughter I may has given in and just read the blue book, but it took nearly 2 weeks of this 'put the book [on the floor, under the bed, in the night stand, on the night stand, on my desk] you name it and have it returned to its place of honor on my pillow each day. Faithfully it continued finding its way back onto the bed each night. Thankfully persistance paid off, and as of the last book release, I braved a Borders bookstore midnight release party of the 6th book in the Harry Potter series. Good Thing too. Because as I arrived home that night, my Dad was waiting to pounce. So I compromised. Seeing as he had merely ordered the book on Amazon.com and wouldn't get his copy for a few more hours, I took pity :) We spent the entire night reading the book out loud to each other so that we could find out what happened next. Besides, who else can I discuss to the death the predictions and plot lines of Harry Potter than with my Dad. Who by the way I am really excited to see the next Harry Potter movie with in Salt Lake City.
2) Who cares for you like a dad? As I have left for college and teaching in states other than Washington the weekly, sometimes daily calls from family have become the norm. In fact, with the technology of cell phones, I have come to rely on such close communication ties. And seeing as I have been in later time zones, and my family has warped into the late to bed, late to rise routine, I find that I rarely am concerned with the TIME of a call :) But I find it comforting to talk to my Dad (before being handed over to my Mom because she continues to ask questions through my Dad) to be asked -in this order- how is your car doing? how is school going? what's the weather like? how are you doing? Before any other conversation would sideline us to other topics. My Dad takes care of me. Or to put another way, first the car, then the possible needed school expenses, helpful weather tips, and then me :) But it has helped to make me independent and grow up with a feeling that "I can do this!" Which is one of the best feelings that one can teach others.
3) He has a sense of humor. He is someone that you just want to be around. After 26 years of marriage my Mom still wants to spend time with him, whether that is the traditional date and [NOT to Home Depot mind you]. I have never known anyone to NOT like my Dad. He is an interesting person to talk to, whether you are talking about the upkeep of motor vehicles, computers, or the best way to install new carpet. I have learned many things watching and helping my Dad. I learned that I could carry a roll of carpet big enough to at least carpet the LARGE family room in their house- his response - "You're going to make some guy a great carpet installer one day" [which of course is on my resume]. I learned how to change the oil in my car, properly replace a tire, how to drive a stick shift, and that sometimes smaller hands are easier to get into the small spaces in a car engire, but unfortunately those smaller hands are UNABLE to unscrew a bolt with those bare hands. He gives good advice, sometimes even if it is just to listen. He is a good teacher. I know he must get frustrated with people, but I hardly remember a time when he let a temper take reign. What more can you ask for? I am so greatful everyday to have a Dad that loves and supports not only me, but my Mom, sister, and those around him.
I saw this item and remembered that you were quite taken with this character :) was it not a desktop wallpaper for a time?
Thank You Dad for all that you do! It is appreciated and will be remembered and passed on to others. I hope that you have had a great day and am so excited to spend time with you when you come to Houston in July! AND of course to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix... so do you think Snape is really evil?
It has been a LONG time. Seeing as how my "other" blogfriends have recently outdone me with blog updates, here it comes. A review of what has been happening in my life since almost all of my countdowns have expired. Lets start with the job. I really really wanted the Newman job; unfortunately a master-degreed, well educated career teacher got the job. That left me with no job here at Metcalf *dry-eyed* *boo-hoo* and no job anywhere. What to do? Until the last day of school for teachers; May 25th. I am in my portable, clearing out the last bits of boxes and turning in lesson plans, when I get an unexpected call from the new principal at Santaquin Elementary in Nebo School District. She had gotten a gander at my resume and wanted to schedule a phone interview. Sure thing. Which in fact turned into a very positive interview and I got a good feeling from it. Problem was, she was in Utah and I was in Texas. Lets leave it at that for a moment.
A big exodus out of Houston has begun. Kite Runner has decided to try her luck in greener fields- the greener fields of Georgia that is. So once again I found myself in a city with not many people to pass all this luxurious summer time off with. A tribute to one who goes before me... Everytime I go to open a new straw I will think of KR.
What do you mean HPLuvr? The thing is first you carefully slip the straw wrapper off the straw, and then tie it into a knot. But DON'T pull the knot tight- yet. First pause and think about someone. Once you have that one person clearly in mind, quickly pull the straw wrapper tight in one quick motion. If the wrapper breaks cleanly in half- and I mean IN HALF as in there is no knot left to speak of -then the person you were thinking about is thinking about you right then.
Obvious attempts that continued to fail. But not for lack of trying.
Good Luck to KR!
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Then there is the night time. Lets start with SCHOOL IS OUT FOR THE SUMMER! So the last few weeks of class were fairly tiring. To say the least. The Nazi Regime team took back our textbooks and then told us to continue with the effective, standards-tied, objective-driving lessons. Babysitting the kids more like it. Well, we survived. But there was that one Friday night after I had changed out of my "spirit school clothes" and settled in to watch my DVR-recorded, ER reruns. When I am awakened by a loud, repetitive noise. Wait a minute I think to myself... why is my alarm going off? I looked out the window and it is still insanely dark outside. And I am not too out of it, it was Friday yesterday. I don't work on Saturdays.
*Confused*
This is when I sit up, rub my eyes, and notice that along with the loud annoying alarm sound, there is a coordinated flashing light. Uhhh?
Then I finally realize what it is:
I grab some public-appropriate pajamas, my purse, and Ronald and book it out of my apartment. Where I wait at 12am with all of my neighbors until 12:45am, by which time no firemen or anything has arrived. Does that make me nervous? 45 minutes of THAT sound going off? Good thing it was a false alarm. Or else I would have not only been homeless but all of my stuff would have been firewood. Marshmellows and a metal-coat hanger anyone?
******************************** Continuing with the subject of waking up- without the aid of my alarm OR the fire alarm- the mornings of our first week of summer vacation; Ronald had a bit of trouble adjusting to the new schedule. This won't make much sense unless I describe our normal school year schedule. My radio alarm is set for 5:40am. Music softly begins the wake up process in which I can hit the snooze button until 6:15am, when the alarm takes over, again I hit the snooze button until 6:30am. At which time I roll out of bed and hop into the shower, all the while talking to Ronald who has followed me and is waiting for me to get out of the shower. And once out of the shower I finally feed Ronald and he is happy with me and out from under foot. I would scoot around and leave the apartment around 7:10am, by which time Ronald was usually ensconsed already in his early morning nap spot :) *waves of extreme jealousy* This worked mutally well for both of us. Except when summer vacation began. The sun would slowly peek through the hole that has been made in the blinds, and Ronald would 1) begin pawing my face to wake me up, and when that failed to get the desired results, he would 2) hop up onto the small table in my bedroom and begin to push off my sunglasses one by one. This usually got me out of bed by the 2nd or 3rd pair of glasses clattering to the floor. Thankfully by the 4th morning of me hopping angrily out of bed and picking up the sunglasses off the floor, Ronald Weasley finally got the picture that "We get to SLEEP IN. No need for the wake-up calls".
Case in point: Now I am the one making wake up calls.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * *
Now back to my job situation. So the ladies currently residing in Provo were so kind as to allow me to come crash their place and allow me access to their vehicles and time. I set up a few interviews with schools in the Nebo school district. Let me tell you the first interview I went to did not go so well; the principal showed up in jeans and was so rushed that I felt as though I should have shaken his hand and left as soon as I sat down. But the clincher was when he took an "important" cell phone call from his wife to reassure her that he would still be able to meet her at the Walmart for their family day out. Oh well. Afterwards I was able to continue my seemingly unsuccessful search for housing. I don't consider myself one with lots of baggage- both figuratively and literally- but that must be outside of cities within 15 minutes of Provo. All these beautiful apartments that I can now afford, and then those fateful two words *NO PETS* These issues kept me tossing and turning until 5:30am the morning before the BIG interview.
By the BIG interview I refer to the telephone interview that I had before I even left Houston. I woke up with time to spare to both get ready and find a school that is 25 minutes away. I drive out to Santaquin, get lost, and then proceed to make a frantic phone call to the school. "I'm lost, but if you can give me some directions I will be there ASAP". The response? "The principal will not be into this school until after July 1st. Try at her old school." Oops, something I should have clarified BEFORE driving all the way out to Santaquin. But before you get too worried, I called her old school, cleared everything up, and batta-bing I am now the newest employee of the Nebo school district. To report to my new job by July 9th. Santaquin Elementary 4th Grade Teacher.
Only one thing is still up in the air... Exactly what is the meaning of this?
A big exodus out of Houston has begun. Kite Runner has decided to try her luck in greener fields- the greener fields of Georgia that is. So once again I found myself in a city with not many people to pass all this luxurious summer time off with. A tribute to one who goes before me... Everytime I go to open a new straw I will think of KR.
person clearly in mind, quickly pull the straw wrapper tight in one quick motion. If the wrapper breaks cleanly in half- and I mean IN HALF as in there is no knot left to speak of -then the person you were thinking about is thinking about you right then.
through the hole that has been made in the blinds, and Ronald would 1) begin pawing my face to wake me up, and when that failed to get the desired results, he would 2) hop up onto the small table in my bedroom and begin to push off my sunglasses one by one. This usually got me out of bed by the 2nd or 3rd pair of glasses clattering to the floor. Thankfully by the 4th morning of me hopping angrily out of bed and picking up the sunglasses off the floor, Ronald Weasley finally got the picture that "We get to SLEEP IN. No need for the wake-up calls". 
