Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

There's always something brewing in my life.

As you read in yesterday's post, I've been extremely discouraged about my job at the high school. If you're a long-time reader, you know that this discouragement has been present in varying degrees throughout this entire school year... and that in recent weeks it's been so oppressive that I've sent my resume in to several other places that are NOT school districts.

Earlier this year, one of the SPED teachers in our building resigned due to the terrible circumstances. Her position was in a self-contained classroom with students who exhibit severe behavior disorders.

Today the behavior interventionist came to me privately and asked, hypothetically, if I were offered that classroom for the rest of the school year, would I take it? I told her that yes, I would consider taking it, but only if I am no longer responsible for updating the IEPs of students I don't see.

I didn't figure that one would fly, but later, the SPED consultant took me aside and spoke to me about the same issue.

Sooooo... it's possible that things will change.

Behavior Disorders? Are you crazy, Kris?

Well, yes, but like a fox. This classroom is so far removed from the general student population that most people don't even know where it is. Administration doesn't WANT to have to deal with these kids, and neither do most substitute teachers who they call in.

Years ago I read the book by Corrie ten Boom entitled The Hiding Place, in which she describes life in a Nazi concentration camp. The barracks in which she had to live was infested with fleas, and she was miserable until her sister (also imprisoned there) pointed out that the guards stayed far away from their barracks because they didn't like the fleas either.

I may have to live with a few flea bites, but in the end it may be worth it to all of us.

Let's not carry the Nazi metaphor any further, though, k? My high school is an unpleasant place, but I can freely leave at any time, and I actually DO like my students and most of my co-workers. I get to spend time with really great kids, teaching them how cells undergo mitosis and meiosis, how to solve an algebraic equation, and how to write a coherent paragraph. To me, that's a very cool thing.

At any rate, the whole idea's just being bandied-about at this time, so it may never happen. In any case, today was much more bearable than yesterday. One of the IEP specialists for the district came to the school and spent time with all of us teachers helping us put together the IEPs, so I feel a little less overwhelmed than I did.

Who knows? Keep checking back in here, because you never know what I'll end up doing. Tomorrow I may be interviewed for a position as a graphic designer at a screen-printing business, and all this may be moot.

Aren't you lucky that I'm so flighty and unpredictable, and that I don't mind wild changes in my life? I'm sure it's very entertaining for you.

A situation I'm not sure I can live with

Today our SPED higher-ups called a meeting after school (which I didn't know about ahead of time and which made me late to pick up my own kids) to tell us that the Feds are coming in to do an inspection of our SPED program in April and that we'd better get our you-know-what together ASAP.

On one hand, I welcome this, because I believe it ought to be widely known just exactly what they've done to us this year.

On the other hand, I can see exactly where this is heading. You see, I'm the low man on the totem pole (well, next to the students themselves, that is). When we Resource teachers have been unable to do progress-monitoring for each kid's IEP because WE DON'T EVER ACTUALLY SEE THE KIDS AND THEY DON'T GIVE US TIME TO GO HUNT THEM DOWN, guess who's going to catch the most heat?

Yep. Me.

It's kind-of like this: Pretend for a moment that I've been hired to supervise 30 teenagers while they scrub floors with a toothbrush. But I'm also supposed to be scrubbing floors with a toothbrush at the same time. They don't give us any toothbrushes, so I buy everyone's toothbrush AND soap. Then they don't give me access to any of the rooms where the floor needs scrubbing. THEN they tell me that those rooms will be inspected and I'd better hope they're clean. AND if they're not clean, I don't keep my job. Plus, if I don't prove that I'm spending 'X' amount of hours scrubbing floors myself after hours AND paying for the privilege of doing so, I don't keep my job. They also frequently take me away from my hallway to supervise some other group, leaving mine unattended. I'm also responsible to keep meticulous records of what percentage of each day each teenager spends scrubbing with different types of toothbrushes and soap (nevermind that, yet again, I never actually get to supervise these teenagers doing so). The Inspectors will be combing through all these records, issuing citations for each discrepancy.

Would you work for a place like that?

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!!!!!

I haven't done one of my typical "Sunday" posts in quite a while. A recap of today's morning worship merits a return to this tradition.

It's so nice when things just work, when everyone's cookin' along and the sound is good and the timing is right... not that every Sunday isn't fun, because I always have a good time worshipping, but not every Sunday is like a well-oiled machine and a par-TAY all at the same time. This morning was. Particularly the latest Jeff Arrandale original song, which we've been doing every Sunday this month in order to learn it. We usually do one "song-of-the-month" type deal because it seems to help people learn it AND it helps the instrumentalists get a good, solid feel for how the song is supposed to sound. I'm finally figuring out just exactly the patterns and rhythms I want to play as well as the timing of the vocals to match Jeff's; plus, the people know it now, and so they were all singing and rockin' the house.

I remember the very first Sunday I was ever in FCC, and besides the quality and talent level of the musicians, I remember being amazed at how the congregation freely and gladly sang and participated. It was refreshing. As I've stated before, I know my church isn't perfect. But I'm glad I'm in it, anyway.

The only thing that marred the day was the fact that Rick had to stay home with the kids because Isaac was puking and fever-y. I'm thinking it was another version of that norovirus thing, or perhaps a mild case of food poisoning. At any rate, he was better this evening, so I guess I'll send him to school tomorrow. I was waiting to see if I needed to call in, but thankfully I won't have to. Or maybe not so thankfully... I could sure use a day at home alone to try to get a handle on my laundry issues.

Either that, or a 24-hour personal assistant.

But it's a good kind of pain

The tips of my fingers on my left hand are rather tender these days... but I'm definitely progressing on learning to play my Sweet Baby, my Little Martin guitar. Everybody else on the worship team loves it, too; they all had to take a turn on it today. Jeff says it has a really beautiful sound. Of course, I thought it had an exceptionally nice sound, too, but it's better coming from an actual good guitarist, y'know?

I've been working hard on learning chords, mostly; I have found that I do better when I sit down and use my ears and figure them out myself. Stratman keeps wanting to show me this or that, and it's fine, but I just seem to remember it better when I find it myself. They all get a kick out of watching me practice whenever we have a spare moment in between sets. Jeff said it reminds him of when he was 14 and learning to play.

Matt promises me that eventually my fingertips won't bleed. (ha ha)

But like I said, the pain doesn't seem so bad once I start really concentrating on the notes and the sound; I don't pay attention to it anymore.

Hopefully someday I'll actually sound decent. Stratman asked me how many chords I already know, and I told him that I know about five, but nowhere close to all of them. He snickered and said that nobody actually knows all of them... then he stopped and rolled his eyes and said, "Of course, you'll probably be the one who would..." I highly doubt it, with this late of a start, but I do intend to be able to play passably, to be able to sing and play a few worship songs when the family all gets together for reunions and stuff like that. It's easier to haul around an acoustic guitar than a keyboard.

Here's a pic I found on the web showing the size difference between a Little Martin and a full-sized Martin:


It's not ukelele-sized or anything that small, but it's definitely smaller. I love it. And if I ever do decide it's time to grow up, I'd like to get a regular Martin; I love the sound and the feel. I know what a good guitar is supposed to sound like, and I don't think I'd be very happy with something that didn't have a quality sound.

Trigger's Home!

And she made it to Nationals! She'll be leaving in about three days for Fort Benning, Georgia, for the national rifle-team championships.

I am so proud of her!

Hangin' out on a Saturday afternoon

Went to the Continental, a little restaurant in the East Village area of Des Moines, and spent some time chillin' with Big Mike & the H.O.T. gang. Since Eddie's entering us into the blues festival, we had to have photographs, so he picked out this very cool place to do it.

Here's "Fast Eddie" Buntenbach, "Big Mike" Edwards, and Don Brown. Eddie plays drums, Big Mike sings the blues, and Don Brown plays a multitude of other instruments like sax, flute, etc.



And here are my roadies that came along for the fun:

How else can all my relatives find out what I'm up to?

I saw this cartoon on Law & Disorder and thought it was cute.



For those of us who live hundreds of miles away from the nearest family members, the internet (and particularly, the blog) has been an indispensable way to keep up with one another. Now, even though I see them twice a year at most, they can all chuckle with me when Isaac says funny stuff, and they can all pray for me when there's job upheaval or sick kids.

On the "sick kids" front, Alice still experiences visual disturbances that bother her, but this morning they were bad enough to give her a headache. She's better now; I suggested she rest and close her eyes for a while to make them go away. Martha is doing much, much better attitudinally. I asked her the other night if she could tell the difference when she was taking her medicine and when she wasn't, and she agreed that she wasn't so angry all the time anymore. It's been a remarkable transformation. She still has learning disabilities and difficulties keeping up with things, but those things are bearable when she's at least pleasant and funny and part of the family.

On the "Isaac funny stuff" front, yesterday I took the three of them to Chuck E. Cheese after school just to blow some $$ and have some fun. Isaac has always had the hardest time with the name of that place; I guess he always heard us call it "Chuck E. Cheese's" and mistakenly thought the name was "Chuck E. Jesus." He still calls it that, and then conks his head and corrects himself. He said it in the school office yesterday when I came to pick him up, and another mom was coming in right when he said it. She grinned and said, "I'm going to laugh about that one all weekend. Thanks!"

At ChuckE's I gave them a bunch of tokens, and took some for myself and played SkeeBall. Then I found this little unassuming game in an uninhabited corner of the restaurant; if you clicked the button and the light was in the "bonus" circle, you got 50 tickets. So I started draining the thing; usually you only got 1 or 2 or 5 tickets, but every so often you score a bonus and get 50. I ended up with nearly 600 tickets when I had gone through all my tokens. I split the tickets evenly between the three of them when we were done so they could get better prizes. "You're the awesomest Mom ever!" he declared. On the way home, he was recounting the evening's events to Alice (even though she was there, she doesn't mind hearing about it again because she probably has trouble remembering it otherwise). "I had 79 tickets, but Mom gave me an upgrade," he said solemnly.

Outstanding

(h/t RedFish, who sent it to me in an e-mail... wow)

This one's worth watching.

Sleepwalking

Sleepwalking is such a weird phenomenon. Isaac does it frequently, and thankfully it only seems to occur within a couple of hours of going to bed, so I'm almost always awake. If we're not awake, he wanders into our bedroom and we wake up and either put him in bed with us or take him back upstairs.

Tonight he came downstairs during Iron Chef and sat in the recliner. I asked him if he'd had a bad dream and he didn't answer me. He kind-of rolled his eyes a little, smacked his lips, and looked dazed. "Are you still asleep?" I asked him. He nodded(See, even when he's unconscious, he's brilliant). I picked him up and he immediately closed his eyes and began to snore in my arms.

It's quite a feat for stubby-little-me to not only carry him upstairs with a hand that's still sore, but also to lift him up and put him in bed in the top bunk. I'm impressed that I was able to do it.

According to familydoctor.org:

Sleepwalking is a disorder in which a child partly, but not completely, awakens during the night. The child may walk or do other things without any memory of doing so.

The child may sit up in bed and repeat certain movements, such as rubbing his or her eyes or fumbling with clothes. The child may get out of bed and walk around the room. The child may look dazed, and his or her movements may be clumsy. When you talk to your child, he or she usually will not answer you.

The most important thing you can do is prevent injury by removing dangerous objects from areas that your child might reach. You should keep doors and windows closed and locked. This is especially important if you live in an apartment. If necessary, your child may have to sleep on the ground floor of your home.

When you find your child sleepwalking, you should gently guide your child back to bed. You shouldn't yell or make a loud noise to wake your child up. You shouldn't shake your child. Finally, you should never make your child feel ashamed about sleepwalking.

Most children outgrow sleepwalking. If your child sleepwalks for a long time, talk to your doctor. Your doctor may want to look at the problem more closely. Some medicines can be used to treat sleepwalking.

I think JoeMama has told me that I used to sleepwalk when I was little. Neither Martha nor Alice ever did, but Isaac sure does.

Teacher assault, day 2

I had a post describing the affair all written out, and then decided against posting it. The whole incident is public knowledge, so it's not as though I'd be revealing something classified or whatever.

But as someone who's actively looking for another job, I realize that future employers might stumble upon my blog and pass over me as a troublemaker (even though I'm not).

I'm totally aware that anyone and everyone can read my blog if they come here. I'm not afraid of it, really, because I'm just not a particularly private person. I don't mind having my bidness known, mainly because I can pick and choose what you read about. I certainly don't blog about everything and everyone in my life, partially because I don't find some things interesting enough, and partially out of respect for my friends who ARE extremely private people.

There's been a kerfuffle lately at church among the youth workers who have discovered that many of the youth in our church have created pages at MySpace or Xanga or other such sites, and that some of the material they found is inappropriate or overly revealing. Some folks are extremely alarmed at the information that kids put out there for anyone to see.

I can see their point; parents ought to be very aware of what their teens are doing online. But I also realize that I can't be aware of every single thing because they're more independent and can find ways to do things they want to do. Plus, the culture today is very different from that of my teenage years. The internet is a culture all to itself, with rules and language and such; some of what the grownups are freaked out over, I'm just not that bothered by. I've been chatting and surfing and posting and e-mail looping and a-href-ing for ten years; it's all normal to me. Perhaps not so much to someone who hasn't kept up with that aspect of life. You can be an extremely tech-savvy computer geek and not be familiar with popular internet culture; it requires a level of engagement and participation that most grownups just aren't inclined toward. Me, I'm not really a grownup in many ways, and I find that I relate better to the students at school when I "get" their culture. I don't have to be childish, but it helps if I'm not completely unaware of their lives and the things that matter to them. They listen to me because I listen to them and take them seriously.

That's called "doing my job," in my opinion.

When I take on a task, I immerse myself in it -- but only if I see a purpose behind it. I hate busywork or meaningless activity, and much of what a SPED teacher's job entails is a great deal of CYA paperwork that nobody ever reads or cares about. For that matter, there's a lot that the State of Iowa requires of all its teachers that's really just pigpoop designed to make life more difficult (in the guise of "professional development" or "rigorous standards"). It gets in the way of actually educating kids.

Back to the incident at school -- the teacher's been put on leave pending an investigation, and the kid's been suspended (it's highly unlikely she'll return to this school). The climate among teachers and administrators is as hostile as I've ever witnessed, and I'm just going to see if maybe I can quietly exit the scene. I hate to leave my students, but I also realize that things are getting bad enough that I don't think I want to be here when the eventual nuclear explosion occurs. They've treated us abominably and have required more of us than is possible. We've even been told to "cook" the IEPs, or basically to make them up.

Something about that bothers me. Maybe it's the whole legality thing?

Trigger's in Colorado

"Trigger" is what Erica said that Gunnery Sgt. Gettler (Gunny, for short) has nicknamed her. She left early this morning with three other students on a plane to Colorado, where they'll compete in the regional shooting competition. The actual competition takes place on Saturday; tomorrow will be practice-practice-practice.

I got a text message when their plane landed, and then this evening I spoke to her briefly. She said they were headed for the hotel pool -- what fun! I envy her, but I know how much fun things like that can be.

I really, really hope she shoots well. When she's on her game, she's deadly.

Teacher assaulted

Today at school, one of our teachers was hit by an enraged female student. The student was removed, but our administration was less than supportive of the teacher, choosing instead to berate her as if she'd done something wrong AND to tell her she had to go back to her classroom. One of the other teachers stepped in and covered her class because we all thought it was insane to force her to go back into the classroom after that.

I have submitted my resume to several places this week; hopefully there will be a place for me outside of Iowa public education. I have seen teacher after teacher after teacher get the sorry end of the stick, and I'm not impressed. Iowa seems to pride itself on being so progressive and superior with regards to public education -- well I'm here to tell you that it ain't necessarily so. My experience has been that they have ridiculous credential requirements designed to rake more bucks into their colleges but which do little to actually further a person's education. There are people whose job is secure because they've been there forever, yet they have zero relationship with students and are completely ineffectual. There are administrators who still don't know what my name is even though this is my second year on staff, and who can't spell, can't compose a grammatically correct sentence, or pronounce students' names over the intercom. There are eminently wise and experienced teachers who are being shuffled around and treated as associates. The entire building is being run in the least efficient, most unjust, and most backwards way possible.

Normally I wouldn't care; as I've said before, I'm grateful to have a job. However, I'm less grateful than I once was, because I've seen that in order to KEEP the job, I have to plunge my family into debt to pay for more college credits.

I personally think I can make at least the same $$, if not more, without having to fork over wads of money I don't have to a college which doesn't really teach me anything new or useful.

And it's a dirty shame, because I believe that I am an effective teacher who's making an impact on the lives of some high school students because I dare to care about them.

See, in everything, it's always the kids who lose out, isn't it? They're the only ones without a voice or an advocate in this thing.

Big Mike and Holdin' On Tight

Well, just got back from my first practice with Big Mike & H.O.T., the blues band extraordinaire.

WOW.

I knew I was in for a seriously cool night when Big Mike came in wearing a black fur coat and a fur cap pulled down over his locks.

They have had bad luck with keyboard players in the past, mainly just for not showing up, so I think it was a big plus in my favor just for showing up and bringing good equipment. Mainly I just tried hard not to suck. We'd all be groovin' along on some song and then Big Mike would wave a finger at one of us -- "Let's hear a lil' keyboard now," and it would be solo time for whoever got the nod.

This is going to be a very interesting experience. Where it leads, I know not, nor for how long... but I'm already learning a lot, and I'm meeting some amazing people that I otherwise would never have the opportunity to meet. My kids are certainly having fun listening to all the blues music I've been playing in the van while we're driving.

Eddie, the drummer and the one who invited me to play along with the band, is the one who brought all these all-stars together. Apparently several of them were in a blues band a couple of years ago called Tough Enough, and they entered and won the state blues competition. They wanted to try it again, so they formed this new group (minus a couple of problem-children) and we're entering the blues festival.

How I end up in these situations, I will never know. Y'see, when you tell God "yes," you can find yourself in places you wouldn't have imagined yourself, doing things you never saw yourself doing. Stuff like this never comes to me because I went looking for it -- no, it always just lands in my lap unexpectedly. And it's usually FUN.

Dadgummit, David... tagging me with a meme...

I've been tagged. Here's the deal:

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

Okay, so I can't pass up a meme. For one thing, getting tagged means that someone out there's actually reading my blog, which of course is flattering. For another thing, I have always found it difficult to say no to a dare.

My seven songs, in no particular order (remember what kind of mood I've been in lately, which should explain some of these):

1. "100 Years" by Five For Fighting
2. "Feel Like Breaking Up Somebody's Home" by Etta James
3. "The Thrill is Gone" by B. B. King
4. "King of Pain" by The Police
5. "The Way I Feel" by 12 Stones
6. "Soul Meets Body" by Death Cab For Cutie
7. "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins

And the bonus eighth entry, one which most of you'd probably never guess I'd ever listen to: "Whenever, Wherever" by Shakira. I make no apologies; Shakira is fascinating and I have a feeling she's going places in the future.

I'm not in the mood to tag anyone; I've already made enough waves in the world for the time being. If you're reading this and you have a blog, consider yourself tagged, k? If you don't have a blog, you can put your answers in the comments.

Grief and loss, etc.

Sometimes the bitter pessimist in me wonders if I will ever be able to truly be friends with another musician, because it seems like just when I get really, truly attached to them, I get hurt. Makes me want to withdraw, to crawl in a personal hole and shrink from all human contact.

And then the Spirit within me sees that God not only knew about this from the beginning, he also loves me enough to answer several long-term personal prayers at the same time, to help me through the hurt and to prevent me from hiding away.

I have resigned from SoulFire. I'm still sorting out all the details, so there really isn't any one specific reason that I'm able to put into words here. I love every one of them with all my heart, but I think that for some inexplicable reason, our personalities just didn't jive. I guess it happens to bands all the time, but it doesn't make it feel any better when it does. I've shared a lot with these guys over the past year, and worked as hard as I've ever worked... I was committed to seeing it through and to helping them be successful, I had rearranged an enormous part of my life to accommodate it, and I've invested a lot of myself (not to mention $$) in the band as a whole and in the individuals in it.

My disappointment... no, that's not an adequate term for how desolate I feel... loss is so humiliating and painful... but "disappointment" will have to do, I guess... my disappointment is almost too much to bear. Tomorrow I'll feel better, maybe, but tonight I just want to be left alone in my puddle of grief. Sorry if I sound a bit over-the-top.

I'm still in romansroad (Jeff has been a stalwart friend to me through this whole crappy issue) and as evidence that God really does love me, he has dropped another something into my lap as well to keep me moving along. I have been asked to join a blues band -- the lead singer is actually a blues hall-of-famer. Tomorrow night is the first time I'll get to practice with them, so it's kind-of an audition, I guess. I've been cramming for a couple of days now, as if I were about to take my SATs or something, only instead of studying algebraic formulas I'm studying a CD of their music. I'll share more details with you as they unfold.

So wait a minute, Kris, you might be saying. Weren't you working yourself to death doing all those paintings so you could make enough money to buy your own music equipment so you could do SoulFire gigs? Well, yes, I was. But again, God knew what he was doing, and most of the time it doesn't look anything like what I originally thought it would. Anyway... I was nosing around in a local music shop on Saturday when yet another gift floated down from heaven and landed in front of me. There in the corner of the upstairs loft sat a Roland RS-70 synthesizer... and it was marked down from $1295 to $695. I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was dreaming. It was all alone in the corner, and there were no other keyboards in the entire shop. I asked one of the employees if he wouldn't mind hooking it up for me so I could test it out, and when I played it I knew I was in heaven. Thank you, God, I breathed silently. This meant that I could afford to buy this keyboard PLUS an amp RIGHT NOW, and with money left over. I snapped it up as quickly as I could (it wouldn't do for someone else to come into the shop and find this Pearl of Great Price and take it away from me), along with a fabulous amp. And with the money left over, I got to indulge one last little prayer I'd been hiding in my heart for a long time... a half-sized Martin acoustic guitar. A full-sized Martin is a bit out of my price range, of course, but any full-size guitar would be a problem because my hands just aren't very big and I have trouble reaching my fingers across the neck to all the frets. But the "Little Martin" is just perfectly sized for me and my stubby hands, and the price was exactly right. "Sweet Baby" (that's what I've named it) has a lovely sound for such a tiny little thing, too. Of course, one would expect a Martin to sound good. I didn't want to waste my time on something that didn't sound good, since I'm picky about how a guitar sounds. I've already learned several chords, although I'm still slow at it just yet. Give me time. I can be powerfully determined when I put my mind to something.

This means that my painting project is over, and much much sooner than I thought it would be. I will still paint, although right now I'm backed up with a ton of commissioned orders and I won't have time for much else for a while.

For those of you still waiting on paintings, hang in there because they're coming. I'm great at producing, and not so great on remembering to package things up and put them in the mail. I will get them out this week, I promise.

Anyway, back to the keyboard -- no, it's not the one I'd originally picked out. But it's actually going to be much, much more practical and still do exactly what I need it to do. I wanted one with 88 weighted keys, but in hindsight I know that those are horribly heavy and difficult to move around, even in a wheeled case. This one's easy on the arms, and yet it's no lightweight when it comes to sound and selection and features. It's exactly what I need for doing gigs... even if the gigs aren't with the band I expected.

And then, as just a little icing on the substantial slice of cake I've been served, another one of my private little desires has been to learn and understand jazz music, since it's been sort-of the "last frontier" for me. I wasn't really ever exposed to jazz as a youngster, per se, but I recognize its immense influence over the music that I did listen to -- rock, pop, gospel, etc. -- and I want to understand it and play it with more ease. As I've gotten involved in the church's worship band, I've begun to stretch in that direction occasionally... but in a blues band, I'm going to be immersed fully in it. It's an extremely exciting opportunity for me to be able to do things I've only ever dreamed of being able to do.

God's good, y'know? He really, really is. Even in the midst of deep disappointment, he proves his love for me by pouring out evidence of the fact that he's at work in my world and he's inviting me to join him. May I always, always have a "Yes" ready for him when he asks.

Personal Branding

No, I'm not talking about this kind of branding, although I could see why someone might think that's what I'd talk about. I do lean toward the alternative as far as my tolerance for body art and body modification. However, that isn't where I'm heading here.

I'm talking about "branding" in the same way one would talk about a "brand-name", like a label or a trademark.

I am not the kind of person who likes to read or listen to someone doing a lot of navel-gazing introspection; BOOO-ring. But I have come to understand that it's incredibly beneficial to understand oneself well and accept who you are. It saves so much time and energy, and allows you to better know your niche.

For example, I could apply for any number of jobs out there, and I'd probably have no trouble getting one somewhere. I'm a bright person with a good education, and I'm well-spoken, so I could shotgun-approach a job search and probably land all sorts of offers. But once I got into one of those jobs, would I be happy? Fulfilled? Would it be something I could feel I was contributing something unique, something of myself to?

I don't hold to the idea that every job you ever do needs to be just exactly what makes you happy. It's possible (and even character-building) to do unpleasant jobs for a time, in order to reach some sort of goal or outcome. What, then, when you've reached the goal? Why not cut to the chase and find something suitable that you can stick with? But you can't find something to suit you if you don't even KNOW you.

Which brings me to my point. Some honest introspection is a very healthy thing to do. David V. Lorenzo blogs about personal branding in a post that I find compelling... so compelling that I'm going to lift it and print it here:

It may be that projecting a personal brand comes naturally to you. If you are an enthusiastic and expressive person, your clients, colleagues, and friends probably know very well just what you're about. If, however, you are not as vocal about yourself, you might need to spend a little time identifying who you are and how you wish to be perceived. These questions will help you determine that:

1. What are my most important values?
2. What are my greatest strengths?
3. How do I want to be perceived?
4. What am I known for?
5. What about myself do I want people to see that they do not?
6. What sort of feedback about myself and my work am I happiest to get?
7. How do my coworkers and supervisors view me?
8. What makes me unique?
9. What do I have to offer?
10. What kind of person do I want to be?

I'm going to be trying to answer these questions as accurately as possible over the next days and weeks. I'm seriously considering a job change, but I'd like to make the move to something that really suits who I am and what I do best... if that's even possible. We shall see...

Oh, man, this is tempting...

If I keep going with my painting project after I get enough saved for my piano, I think I might spring for one of these handy gadgets... I'm sure I could put it to use somehow, somewhere... [rubbing my hands together gleefully]

I thought Afghans were blankets...?

Afghans deliver blankets, clothes to displaced citizens

KABUL, Afghanistan -- On the surface, it appeared to be an act of good will and charity to a people who need it the most, during a season when it's needed the most. But under the surface, much more was going on. The new government was taking vital first steps to assure its people that they will be there for them, an idea that has always been foreign here.

"Afghan people helping Afghan people is the theme," said Army Lt. Col. Robert Roseman, of the Political Military Integration’s ministry engagement team.

With the Afghan flag design, 7,000 blankets and several boxes of clothing were distributed by the Ministry of Refugee and Repatriation on Monday to 3,000 Afghan families displaced to a village on the outskirts of Kabul.

The blankets were obtained by Roseman and his team. "Getting blankets is easy," he said. "Engaging the ministry to store and haul and coordinate the distribution of the blankets with the refugee families is the real success here."

The ministry engagement team's main effort is to come along side the ministry to mentor, guide and assist them in doing their job, Roseman said.

"What was good about today was the ministry really took the ball and ran with it," he said. "They planned and coordinated well, and their success is our success."

The ministry planned with the elders of the refugees to give each family a voucher for a certain number of blankets for when they returned with the supplies.

"The ministry's effort in coordinating the logistics really paid off, and the distribution went very smoothly," Roseman said.

"We are very happy to be back in our own country," said Malak Tourghul, the camps elder. "We are very proud of our ministry and hope to be working with them in the future."

That's the plan. Roseman said the ministry is preparing to help 27 different refugee camps in the Kabul area in the same way.

From a strategic point of view, an endeavor like this is crucial for the stabilization and security of the country, he said. Refugee camps typically make good recruitment camps for terrorists because they can prey on people who have been left out in the cold, literally, by their own government to get them on board with their "government."

"The Ministry of Refugee and Repatriation has taken a step in the right direction to prevent that from happening," Roseman said.

An act of good will and charity - 3,000 refugee families will be a lot warmer this winter. But as they wrap themselves with the colors of their nation's flag when the winter weather rolls in, hopefully they will remember it's their country keeping them warm.

Wednesday's Auction

I'm back! And my hand is feeling terrific. I didn't have one bit of trouble holding the brush, and the soreness (while it is definitely present) is not unbearable.

At any rate, here's my first offering as I'm getting revved back up for the long haul. It's a stylized US flag in watercolor on 140-lb Canson paper, 8.75" x 12" paper. Bidding starts at $25. I'm going to leave this auction up until Friday afternoon, since I'm still healing up from surgery and I don't want to overtax my hand just yet. If you're the winning bidder, add about $3 to the final bid price to cover shipping. Payment is available online through Paypal (click on their link down below my blogroll, on the right-hand side of the web page), or I will also accept a personal check (although it must clear my bank before I will ship).

By purchasing my art, you're also contributing to my musical career. Thanks a million!!

Yet more evidence that squirrels are evil

(h/t BlueFish, who e-mailed it to me knowing how much I despise squirrels)

Storytime with David Crowder

Click on the picture and watch the video. David Crowder agrees with me... which is reason enough for me to like him -- even if I didn't already think his music ROX.

Awwwwww....

Here's a Valentine's Day story for ya...

(h/t FARK)

Couple relives 1946 honeymoon at the Drake hotel

Chicago, IL -- Fresh out of the Army, Arthur Reis did what he could to treat his new bride, Ardell: He checked into the Drake Hotel for their honeymoon. It was 1946. The cost: $7 a night.

Making reservations at the Drake recently to mark their 60th anniversary, Ardell presented the yellowed hotel receipt from 1946 -- the one that included a 40 cent charge for a long distance phone call and a room service tab of $3.73.

Amazed by the artifact, Drake officials, as a gift to the Cicero couple, decided to charge them the original rate: seven bucks a night.

"Since we had kept the receipt, they said they were going to honor us in this way," said Ardell Reis, now 81 but, according to her husband, still as vivacious and beautiful as the day they were wed.

"We weren't thinking they would give us a room for $7," said Ardell. "I just wanted to show it to them because I thought they would find it interesting. They said that since I had been gracious enough to bring the receipt, they, in turn, would give us the room."

The couple met as teenagers at their church. One day, Arthur asked Ardell if she wanted to get some ice cream. "I told him I didn't have any money," Ardell recalled with a laugh. She was almost 16; he was almost 20.

A couple of years later, as he prepared to leave the Chicago area for Army boot camp, Arthur asked Ardell's father if he could give Ardell an engagement ring. "My father said, 'As long as he's leaving, OK,'" said Ardell.

No publicity stunt

They wrote each other almost every day for three and a half years while Arthur fought in World War II, including a stint in Europe.

Finally, he came home and they got hitched two days after Valentine's Day, 1946. In a splurge, after the wedding they took a cab from Cicero to the Drake at 140 E. Walton. Besides the Drake room service, they treated themselves to a movie at the Esquire Theater and a play, a comedy, at the Schubert.

After five days, they returned to Cicero and began a partnership that would produce two children and a million memories. For years, they worked together as florists.

While hotels are media-savvy operations, the cut-rate hotel room is no publicity stunt. The Drake deal came up after Ardell phoned the paper to talk about a recent story on a University of Chicago study on couples and satisfaction. Researchers found that pairs who put their partner's needs and wants over their own reported happier marriages.

That empathy and altruism is how Ardell explains her own six decades of marriage.

"It is not all a bed of roses. You have to give and take," she said. "We watch over each other and our faith is strong -- in God and in each other. You can't have it any other way."

Added Arthur: "We've gone through a lot together -- sickness, operations. She's a very giving person."

He's not sure how they'll spend next weekend at the Drake. At their age -- he's 85 -- it'll depend on the weather, he said.

Loyal to Chicagoans

Arthur Reis said he picked the Drake in 1946 because it "was a top hotel -- it still is."

The Drake, overlooking Lake Michigan, opened in 1920 and has hosted Winston Churchill and Prince Charles. Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe reportedly etched their initials into the wooden bar of the Cape Cod Room.

Today's top-end rates can run $1,000 a night. Drake director of operations Martin Wormull said the hotel occasionally -- and quietly -- treats some guests by rolling back the clock on the bill. "The people of Chicago have been loyal to the Drake, and we like to be loyal to them," Wormull said.

Happy Valentine's Day

Oh... Canada?!?

I would like to share with you an opportunity that the Lord has opened up for me in my desire to serve Him in missions. As you may remember, I have traveled to the country of Haiti numerous times to teach music and serve the Haitian churches. I have been unable to return there due to severe violence and unrest as well as a deeply damaged infrastructure resulting from several hurricanes. My heart aches for the Haitian people, and I have kept in contact with some of my Haitian colleagues who have occasional access to e-mail.

The project in Haiti with which I was involved is a music recording project. The culture of Haiti is an oral one, and very musical in nature. The most effective means of transmitting the Bible to most Haitians (even those who are literate) is via "storying," which is a chronological, systematic (and non-denominational) method of telling the stories of the Bible orally. The music project went along with the storying project and involved indigenous Haitians in writing original story-songs which went along with each one of the stories. The songs were then recorded in a studio and produced onto a set of CDs; these CDs are then distributed throughout the country -- in buses and taxis, in churches and homes and markets and radio stations -- anywhere where they might be heard.

My church is an active sponsor of mission trips, and in April they will be sending a team of 8 people (including me!) to Blainville, Quebec (a suburb of Montreal). While we will be there to encourage and minister to a tiny group of new believers there, we will also have the opportunity to minister to a church made up of Haitian ex-patriates. I will have the opportunity to share the recorded Haitian story-songs with them, and in turn they will be able to share these story-songs with other Haitian immigrants in their community. There are many, many Haitians who have emigrated to French-speaking Canada and who have no access to the Gospel in their native Kreyol language -- but I can be a tiny thread in God's grand tapestry, another vehicle for His truth to shine into this area of Canada (which is rarely exposed to the Gospel, even in French or English, much less Kreyol). Imagine... traveling NORTH to minister to Haitians! The only downside is that I don't think Quebec has quite the same climate as I came to enjoy in the Caribbean.

I am posting this information in the hope that you will begin praying now for our team, for the believers in Blainville, and for my own heart -- that I might be prepared to effectively communicate Christ. Pray that God will provide the financial support necessary ($420), and that I will remain healthy enough not to use my sick-days at work before then!

Thank you for letting me share my heart with you. It is a high privilege and honor that God would want to use me in His work, and I appreciate your prayer and encouragement more than anything else. If, however, you sense God directing you to contribute financially to our project, you may send a check payable either to Fellowship Community Church; be sure to put my name on the Memo line (it's tax-deductible, by the way) -- or payable to me, and I will use it for meals and personal supplies for the trip (not tax-deductible). Watch this space for updates on our project.

Once again, thank you for praying for me.
-Kris

Fellowship Community Church
225 North Avenue
Norwalk, IA 50211

Off with her hand!

Just kidding. Actually, today I got my stitches out. I was glad to be rid of the wretched things because they had begun to be rather irritating.

I had two of my kids and two of Cindy's kids with me at the time, and since I know Doc Rodgers to be the kind of guy who would enjoy it, I gave them the option of coming into the exam room and watching the stitches come out -IF- they could be extremely polite and respectful. They did, and they were.

Isaac wanted to know how the doctor could make it so that the stitches didn't hurt when they came out.

"Well, actually, it does sting just a little bit," I said. "But when you get to be older, you sort-of get tougher and stuff that hurts doesn't bother you quite as much as it did when you were a kid."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "So, like, when you get to be a hundred, you're practically indestructible, right?"

Doc Rodgers & I got a good chuckle out of that one.

*******************************

In a similar vein, Isaac gave me a solemn warning yesterday on our way out of church. He and Martha had decided to ride home with me in my van.

"Mom, you'd better make Martha sit all the way in the back. She cut the cheese in Dad's van and it was BAD."

Brain teaser

Group A
Lonely
Patent
Canines
Freighter
Artwork

Group B
Local Election
News Event
Tax Return
Brainy Teaser
Play Date

Look over Group A closely, then decide which entry from Group B belongs in Group A...

Okay, here's the answer.

The answer is "News Event"

Why, you ask?

Because each of the words in Group A had a number in it.

lONEly
paTENt
caNINEs
frEIGHTer
arTWOrk

So, of course, you have newS EVENt to add to it.

During February in the northern plains, intense boredom gives rise to this sort of behavior

Hairy hockey contest

MILWAUKEE, Wis. (CP) - Minor league hockey fans in Milwaukee will give the shirts off their backs for a shot at a trip to Las Vegas.

But only the hairiest in the land will win the grand prize. In a Friday night event that might have the squeamish averting their eyes, the Milwaukee Admirals of the American Hockey League will hold a "Hairiest Back Contest" for any hirsute hockey fans who have more hair on their backs than on their heads.

After the judges, um, comb through all eligible contestants, three shaggy finalists will grin and bare it at centre ice to let the fans pick the winner.

I'd say something about freaky hockey fans except I know that NASCAR fans may be even weirder...

Bad news

Just got a call from Timmy... who called to let me know that Mark, our lead guitarist... well, his cancer has come back and it's engulfed his liver and is into his kidneys too. They're going to start treatment again... best-case scenario, the tumors shrink and he goes on as usual... worst-case scenario, the tumors don't shrink and he's got about six months.

He's got a 12-year-old son and two young-adult daughters. He's 48.

Please pray for him, and pray for all of us in SoulFire, that we can be the kind of support that he needs as he goes through this struggle.

Fun with anagrams

Here's a little brainteaser for ya. Combine the two words and scramble the letters around to make the name of an animal.

1. zeal, gel
2. neat, help
3. boa, luff
4. bow, mat
5. evil, owner
6. cot, soup
7. log, rail
8. lone, tape
9. moral, dial

Okay, today's better

I don't feel as growly and gritty as I did last night, thankfully. I think it was just a combination of work woes and physical pain... it really is shocking to me just how much it changes my personality when I'm in solid pain. I'm not a nice person when I hurt. Makes me think of a wounded animal snapping and biting at people trying to help it...

My bruises look sooooo much better today than yesterday... lighter, yellower, less swollen. My hand is still sore, but not as much. I'm not involuntarily clenching my teeth anymore.

I know, you're thinking, didn't Doc Rodgers give you a bottle of Vicodin? Well, I had decided not to take any, because the pain wasn't as acute yesterday morning and I kind-of wanted to quit the stuff anyway. I did okay through the day, but by the time evening rolled in, it was pretty achy. By itself I probably could've managed, but with the crap at work...

I think I may be ready to start painting again, by the way. Watch this space for further developments.

GROWL

Ever have a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day?

I didn't really have one of those... it wasn't wonderful, but it wasn't the worst day I've ever had. But I'm feeling completely desolate and discouraged and disheartened. Kind-of a "I hate everyone and everything" kind of feeling.

There's really no coherent reason for my mood. I did get another e-mail from one of Martha's teachers, but it wasn't earth-shatteringly horrible. I did have a stoopid meeting to attend during my planning time, and it truly was about as discouraging and horrid as any meeting has ever been just because we continue to try to tell the people in higher-up positions in the district that our school is breaking the law by not serving students according to their IEPs and that every time we suggest some sort of solution it gets shot down without even a review or a discussion. We're sick of fighting, sick of talking, sick of listening to people drone on and on about how to improve student achievement when we're being forced to be teacher's-aides in other teachers' classrooms and have NO say over what gets taught and when and how. It's completely demoralizing.

Okay, yes, there was that part of the day, and yes, I suppose it has colored my entire afternoon/evening. I can't keep my supper down because my stomach has tightened up into a knot. My hand hurts. A lot. My laundry needs doing. The first thing my husband said when he came through the door was something about the credit-card statement (is a "Hey, it's nice to see you at the end of my workday" too much to ask for?). Of course, maybe it ISN'T nice to see me. Maybe I'm stupid and ugly and lazy and nobody in their right mind would want to come home to me.

I feel like breaking things and swearing.

And there was great jubilation

Timmy & Mikey are doing the Happy Boy dance to-night, now that their beloved Steelers have clawed their way through the playoffs to clinch the Vince Lombardi trophy.

But even better than that, all of Heaven is rejoicing because there's another lost lamb that's come home... and his name is Kaleb.

If there's no other reason for me to have been placed at North High School, this would've been enough.

I know I'm up late

But I don't have to be at church before sunrise tomorrow morning. I can actually ride to church in the same vehicle as my family, and sit with them in church -- all thanks to Doc Rodgers and his trusty scalpel.

It's going to drive me crazy to sit out in the congregation, though, and watch the guys all having such a good time playing the music without me.

For me, it's not at all about being "up front" where I can be seen; no, actually, it wouldn't bother me if no-one ever saw me at all. It's just so much fun to make music with these guys. It's even MORE fun to be the kind of back-up person that Jeff can depend on without having to worry. He can inadvertently start the song in the wrong key and I can detect it immediately and let the other instrumentalists know what key to play in without Jeff ever even realizing it. That kind of thing is immensely satisfying to me. That's the kind of importance I want to be remembered for.

I once attended a conference where the speaker had advice for those of us who worked for other people in some capacity or other. He told us that our chief goal should be to make our boss successful. I took that seriously, and it has changed the way I view working for someone. If Jeff is the worship leader, then my goal as a musician is to help him be successful at leading worship. If I'm working for God, it's my goal to make God look good and to further His agenda. This philosophy has helped me be a better "sidekick" and has shown me that, at least for me, I'm more satisfied being an indispensable and useful helper than in being an out-in-front diva leader type.

Tomorrow's agenda includes spending time over at Tim & Mary's house watching the Super Bowl. Tim's a rabid Steelers fan, so he's especially pumped about this game. It ain't the Cowboys, so I don't really have a dog in this fight, but because Timmy's such a Steelers guy, I'll put aside my preferences for a few hours tomorrow evening and root for the Steelers. OUCH that's hard for me to write.

The youth are having a big Super Bowl bash at church tomorrow evening, and Erica is bringing a couple of her friends along, one of whom is a young man named Kaleb who isn't a Christian but who thinks Erica is the Queen of the Universe and wants very badly to be her beau -- badly enough that he has consented to come to church with us. He will be hearing the gospel tomorrow night, probably for the first time in his life.

Cooties, part XVIII

I have adjusted my freak-out meter with regards to cooties, but it doesn't mean I don't wish we could finally be rid of the #@$% things without having to shave everyone's head bald in this house. Just when we finally have clean, pest-free heads, someone brings 'em home again.

Buy stock in Nix, folks. That's my recommendation.

[muttering vague profanities]

Irritating people

One of Martha's teachers at the middle school has rubbed me the wrong way several times over this school year... whenever she speaks to me or e-mails me, I get the distinct sense that she has a very low opinion of my parenting skills and methods. I don't think she believes that Martha needs medication, just a more on-the-ball mother.

Most of the time, I can shrug it off, but it still irritates me to receive an e-mail from her that delineates just exactly what I ought to be doing at home with regards to Martha's routine. I'd like to send Martha home with her to live with her for a few months and just see how her opinions would change.

I will not apologize for my parenting. I may not be the most organized mother on the face of the earth, but my kids are clean and well-fed and polite and decent AND they are loved unconditionally by their mom & dad.

There are some battles I have learned it's too much work to fight. I can successfully force Martha to do some things, but is it worth the Herculean effort required? Most of the time it isn't. There are lots of things I'd like for her to do or to be, but I've had to adjust my expectations in the interest of a peaceful home life. You find out pretty quickly just what really IS negotiable. For example, a diet consisting solely of Fruity Pebbles, Spaghettios and Ramen Noodles may not be the most well-balanced one ever, but it's not a huge deal in the grand scheme of life. Eventually she will want other things, and in the meantime we will have saved ourselves the angst and frustration of trying to force her to eat something else. Heck... at least she gets something to eat. There are lots of little Haitian children who get nothing. When you've traveled in a third-world country, your perspective changes.

All that being said, I am going to sing the praises of the person who invented the drug Abilify. It has made an enormous difference in the life of our family. Martha is more cheerful and cooperative than she has ever been in her life, and she has joined the family as an active participant. She still has her personality, mind you, but she doesn't spend herself in violent, turbulent emotion. She speaks to people in public.

She's done a lot of changing this year, both physically and emotionally. It's been a momentous and fearsome year so far, with a lot of no-going-back-now sorts of events. I know that it's only the beginning, but for the first time in a very long time I do have hope that we will make it through these next six and a half years with her.

Brain teaser

The following words have one thing in common. Can you figure out what it is?

Bola
Chute
Graph
Mount
Pet
Site
Sol

The Winter 2006 Iowa Blogger Bash

Fun fun fun!! Tonight was the Iowa Blogger Bash, held at the Raccoon River Brewery down on 10th & Mulberry in downtown Des Moines. For a list of all these folks' names and where they blog, you can visit Joe Kristan's blog for the official roundup.

The anonymous blogger on Joe's list was Stef from Bob, by the way. She's very cool... one of only two leftward bloggers in attendance tonight, but I still love her just the same. She takes awesome photographs.

Even though I'm rather rightward in my political beliefs, I can put those aside easily and find something to appreciate and admire in just about anyone from any side of the aisle. I find that I often have artistic tastes more in common with lefters than righters, and art plays such an enormous role in who I am... Anyway, I was wishing that Jeff Gitchel from TrainOrphans had been there because I would've loved to meet him. And Brent from Law & Disorder didn't show up!!! After he promised he would!!! I knew that Brett might not be able to make it, so I wasn't too upset about that one -- besides, I got to see him recently in my own living room, so hey, who's complaining?

The other Kris from Side Notes & Detours didn't make it this year; Stef said she had business in Chicago to attend to. The last of the three pictures above was a "Jazz-Hands" pose just for her benefit.

So far as we know, we still haven't met State 29, although we all speculated as to his/her profession. Tops on the list were insider government -or- university professor. The mystery continues.

Mega-thanks to Joe Kristan for buying everyone's first round... now that's a stand-up guy, to buy my Dr. Pepper for me! You're the bomb, Joe.

It was great to see the Iowa Geeks Doug & Jody Halsted again... and Doug's got a budding political career in the works.

A fun evening with lots of laughs; Blue, Royce, Kyle, Joe and Jeff have solved the problem of the Iowa Rainforest boondoggle porkbarrel project. I'm going to be watching their blogs in the upcoming days to see if any of them are going to blog about their solution, and if they do, I'll link to it. It's ingenious, really. Remarkably ingenious. Involves machetes and blacklights, if that grabs your attention...

UPDATE: Joe's already blogged it... or at least parts of it. He failed to mention the idea of hunting under blacklight illumination. I tell you, Royce is a man's man. Give him a blowgun and stand back, people. And it was BlueFish who first suggested hiring scantily-clad babes to work in the Rainforest building. I was shocked... SHOCKED, I tell you.

Lil' Sure-Shot makes State Champ

Yep, that's our girl! Erica placed first in her age division in the state rifle team competition for JROTC today. She placed second overall, and received a $300 scholarship from the American Legion. North HS's rifle team placed first in the state as well.

I am so proud of her I can hardly stand it. She's just a sophomore and is already this good... if she keeps it up, I'm hoping she'll be able to get a full-ride scholarship somewhere with it.

Do NOT mess with this girl... I wonder if I should put up one of those little window signs that says "This house protected by [insert brand name of rifles used by Marine Corps]"...?

Little-known facts about me

Ten Top Trivia Tips about GradualDazzle!

1. The only Englishman to become GradualDazzle was Nicholas Breakspear, who was GradualDazzle from 1154 to 1159!
2. GradualDazzle can clean her ears with her tongue, which is over thirty-nine inches long.
3. Ninety-six percent of all candles sold are purchased by GradualDazzle!
4. There are 336 dimples on GradualDazzle.
5. GradualDazzle is actually a mammal, not a fish.
6. The porpoise is second to GradualDazzle as the most intelligent animal on the planet.
7. People used to believe that dressing their male children as GradualDazzle would protect them from evil spirits.
8. If you break GradualDazzle, you will get seven years of bad luck.
9. The eye of an ostrich is bigger than GradualDazzle.
10. GradualDazzle will always turn right when leaving a cave.

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

Couldn't have said it better myself

So I'll quote Kevin McGehee instead:

When you twist God's law to justify mass murder, you desecrate Him.

When you distort God's will to relegate even your own women to being little better than animals, you offend Him.

And when you hold that He and his servants on earth are too flimsy and weak to bear a bit of mild ridicule from those who believe differently from you, you diminish Him.

God will spend His wrath where He will. Your wrath, I do not fear. Your wrath, I hold in contempt.

The Islamofascists who are getting all freaked out about the Mohammed cartoons in Denmark newspapers are a bunch of whiny toddlers having a mass tantrum trying to get their way. I'd tell them to grow up, but if they did that, they'd realize their phony religion was a pile of pigpoop and leave it behind.

So, Kris, how's your hand doing?

Marvelous, actually. Here's a couple of pictures:





But wait, you say. That second picture... your pinky-finger doesn't look quite right. Well, correct. We don't know what happened here. This morning, while sitting at my desk at school, I noticed that my pinky-finger was turning black. Or at least the outer joint of it. And it was swelling up. I knew that the orthopedic center would be calling me to check up, so I waited for that. When I told the nurse what was going on, she said, "You need to come on in and let Doc take a look at it." I scurried over there, and Randy (Doc's main nurse dude) took one look and said, "Hmm, you're right. That IS curious." He made sure the bandage wasn't too tight (it wasn't) and said, "We need an x-ray of that."

The x-ray showed no fractures or cracks or anything unusual. Doc thought the whole thing was rather strange, and as it was the only finger which was behaving oddly, he suggested we observe it over the weekend. He said that he was the doctor on call this weekend anyway, so if it got worse, I could call and actually get him.

It hasn't really changed or gotten worse... it's still puffy and sore... and the knuckle-bone of my thumb has gotten dark as well. But I'm going to leave it alone and check it again in the morning. My thumb knuckle is much closer to the actual incision site, so it's possible that it's just bruising or something.

The hand in general, apart from the pinky issue, is doing well. I'm using both hands to type again, with very little discomfort. I still don't have any strength in the hand; I can't pick stuff up or anything. But I have excellent mobility... which bodes well for being able to play the piano again soon. This is VERY good news for me.

I'm also planning a little gift for Doc Rodgers when I go back to see him on the 13th. He told me he was leaving next week for a few days in Jackson Hole, doing some snowboarding with friends. How cool is that? Anyway, I'm thinking maybe a watercolor of a snowboarder would be something nice and thoughtful. I usually try to do something nice for our doctors, and each time I've done it, it has strengthened the connection between our family and the doctor... big-city professionals see so many people in and out of their offices, and it's hard to remember people from one visit to the next. Give them something to remember you by, however, and you've got someone who's genuinely interested in your life and your family and (in my opinion) you get better care in return.

All pontificating aside now, my hand's doing great and I'm cautiously optimistic about the long-term results.

Iraqi Radio Shack to begin selling radar detectors?

Iraqi Highway Patrol officers ready to occupy new facilities

by Suzanne M. Fournier
Gulf Region Southern District
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers

Base Camp Adder (Ali Base) Iraq - The Iraqi Highway Patrol was a little known entity under the former regime. It was a small paramilitary-trained police force of approximately 600 officers, driving junk vehicles and operating out of dilapidated buildings.

Since the US Army Corps of Engineers began reconstruction activities in Iraq two years ago, the Iraqi Highway Patrol has made major advancement. Ten times more men and women now serve as Highway Patrol officers. They are trained by the US Army Special Forces and military police on modern apprehension, detection, security and law enforcement techniques to protect, defend and secure the roads of Iraq.

The junk vehicles are gone, replaced by a fleet of new 4-door blue and white Chevrolet pickups, outfitted with blue and red lights, radio systems and spotlights.
Also disappearing are the dilapidated buildings. Currently, safe, secure and professional Highway Patrol facilities are under construction or already occupied so highway patrol officers can enforce law, apprehend criminals and secure highways and roadways.

Thirty-three Iraqi Highway Patrol Stations and six Border-Entry Barracks are identified as needed to provide law enforcement along Iraq's six major highways. The stations are built sequentially to ensure that continuous sections of road remain secure until the entire network is completed. The goal is to have an Iraqi Highway Patrol Station every 50-60 kilometers, starting in the South where three of six stations on Iraqi Highway One are compete and the other three will be finished next month.

Two newly constructed facilities are the $2 million construction projects at Fawwa in Qadisiyah Province and Al-Shaiba in Basrah Province, where two-story Iraqi Highway Police Headquarters buildings are ready for the 160 officers to move into their new quarters.

Another facility just completed is the $2.4 million Iraqi Highway Patrol Station and Border-Entry Barracks at Safwan, in Basrah Province, where two, two-story buildings were constructed to support 404 highway patrol officers who control the Kuwait-Iraq Point of Entry.

Each Highway Police building consists of offices for commanders; conference rooms for meetings; separate sleeping quarters for men and women officers; complete shower and bathroom facilities; fully furnished dining facility and dining areas; separate jail areas for men and women; weapons ranges; covered parking; and a maintenance garage with wash bay and fuel point for the new vehicles.

The facilities are often located in isolated desert terrain, so the buildings are self sustainable with their own generator, back up generator, sanitation system, potable water tanks and surrounded by a double perimeter security wall with lighting, concertina wire and guard towers.

These facilities are designed to sleep 60 male and 10 female patrol officers at the compound while on duty in order to protect the highways, but also to protect patrol officers and their families from intimidation or targeting by terrorists if they had to return to their homes each night.

The Iraqi Highway Patrol faces many challenges. The new government of Iraq has unlicensed drivers, countless broken-down vehicles and Biblical-era donkey-carts all co-existing on highways with modern military vehicles and fuel-tank convoys of 25-50 tractor trailers.

The men and women patrol officers have responsibilities similar to law enforcement in other parts of the world, but they also have to deal with tribal rivalries, loyalties and jurisdictions; dangerous, isolated and extreme-climate deserts; insurgents and terrorists; suicide car bombers; thieves and smugglers; and surveillance for improvised explosive devices or IEDs.

Highway Patrol facilities are constructed under management of the US Army Corps of Engineers using funds from the Multinational Security Transition Command - Iraq.

I imagine the Iraqi HP has got more on its plate to worry about than cars exceeding the speed limit...

How do you pronounce "Djibouti"?

I'm not sure, either. But since I enjoy informing y'all about cool stuff that the US is doing in unpronounceable places, I thought I'd let you know about this:

CJTF-HOA renovates Djiboutian school, builds wall

Story By: USAF Tech. Sgt. Cindy Dorfner
February 2, 2006

DJIBOUTIVILLE, DJIBOUTI - About 1,800 students now enjoy a safer and more secure learning environment after a major renovation of the Al-Hourya School here funded by the Combined Joint Task Force - Horn of Africa.

CJTF-HOA is made up of U.S. joint forces, the U.S. Department of State and more than two dozen coalition forces from around the globe. The group conducts operations and training to assist host nations establish a secure environment and enable regional stability.

The nearly $130,000 venture saw a complete overhaul to all four buildings on the school grounds, including repair or replacement of ceilings and roofs, electrical components and plumbing systems. A building with toilets was constructed and the buildings were painted.

In addition to the renovations, a wall surrounding the school grounds was demolished and a concrete security fence rebuilt as part of the project. A local contractor completed the work.

According to Pakistan Army Capt. Omer Munj, an engineer assigned to CJTF-HOA, the school and surrounding wall were in desperate need of the repairs.

"The school and wall were in very bad shape," Captain Munj said. "The electrical system was unsafe and there were no toilets."

The new wall offers more security and also keeps wandering animals from roaming around the school grounds, Captain Munj said.

School officials dedicated the school and wall in a ceremony Jan. 31 attended by Marguerita Ragsdale, U.S. Ambassador to the Republic of Djibouti, officials from CJTF-HOA, as well as teachers, parents and students.

"It's a great pleasure for me, on behalf of the United States, to dedicate the renovation of this school and this wall," said Col. Nicholas Augustine, future operations officer for Combined Joint Task Force - Horn of Africa.

Colonel Augustine saved the bulk of his message for the school's students - a group he addressed as the future leaders of Djibouti.

"This is a very important time in your life - a time you will make new friends and learn new things," he said. "The coalition came here to help renovate your school because we want you to have a nice place to learn."

And if anyone can definitively pronounce "Djibouti," leave it in the comments. Much obliged.

I'm home

The surgery went great; he did it thru the scope thingy so there's only two stitches instead of that ginormous incision pictured in my previous post. Now I've got this cushy wrap on my hand (which stays on for three days, then I switch to bandaids). Doc Rodgers sez I can play and paint again as soon as I want to and feel like it.

The nurses out there were just the best. The one in post-op was helping me with something and I asked her when I could play the piano again. "Could you play it before the surgery?" was her reply... she was serious! Apparently that's a common joke for some post-ops. "Yes, I could," I chuckled.

Doc Rodgers even had satellite radio in the OR, so I got to pick what I wanted to listen to.

A million thanks for all your prayers... and a huge I-owe-you-bigtime to Mary (Tim's wife) for driving me there and back. I can't guarantee a new painting tomorrow, but who knows? I might get ambitious. Heck, if I can blog one-handed, surely I can paint...

Thursday's Auction

This one just about did my hand in... it's a good thing today's my carpal-tunnel release surgery, because I think I've just about done all the painting I can do with it like it is. I could barely hold the brush.

For you purple-people out there, here's a plummy Paso Fino pony hidden amid the swirly lines. "Paso Fino Plum" is an original watercolor painting on acid-free 140lb. Canson paper, paper size is 8.75 x 12. Bidding starts at $20; use the Comments to bid. At 10PM Central, bidding's over. Winner pays through Paypal, Amazon, or money order. Personal checks must clear before I will ship. If you are the auction winner, please inform me of your location so I can give you an exact shipping amount to add to your payment.

Thank you for looking!! If you like what you see, spread the word -- please! By bidding, you're helping a poor, struggling musician to purchase good equipment.

If you have any particular requests, I do take commissions. I've already gotten several private commissions, but if there's something you'd like to see me tackle for the daily auction painting, let me know and I'll see what I can do.

Kevin's been busy again

This time, he's having some fun with one of the photographs of my son & my husband that I posted last week...

Isaac Zaps Dad

and the original can be found here.

Kevin, you are a Photoshop master, my friend. I can't wait to show this picture to Isaac; he will FLIP. hehe

Wednesday's Auction

Another monochrome horsey! They seem to be quite popular, and since I'm doing this with a specific purpose of fundraising, I'm going to be sure to produce what will sell... whenever possible.

"Into the Blue" is an original watercolor painting on acid-free 140lb. Canson paper, paper size is 8.75 x 12. Bidding starts at $20; use the Comments to bid. At 10PM Central, bidding's over. Winner pays through Paypal, Amazon, or money order. Personal checks must clear before I will ship. If you are the auction winner, please inform me of your location so I can give you an exact shipping amount to add to your payment.

Thank you for looking!! If you like what you see, spread the word -- please! By bidding, you're helping a poor, struggling musician to purchase good equipment.

If you have any particular requests, I do take commissions. I've already gotten several private commissions, but if there's something you'd like to see me tackle for the daily auction painting, let me know and I'll see what I can do.