Like the rain, I have fallen for you...

Living in the desert has taken some getting used to. There are very few trees. The trees that are here are all deciduous, no evergreens to speak of. There is more dust and dirt than any one place should rightfully have. The wind never stops blowing. It blows all of the dust and dirt right into the house and over everything. It gets so hot during the summers that you open the door and feel the heat come up over you like when you open the oven when you're baking. It gets so cold during the winters that my cats have taken to sleeping under the covers. It rarely rains.

I miss the rain. Because I grew up in Seattle, I used to take the rain for granted. It was going to happen, and probably sooner rather than later. Now that I've lived in the desert for ten years, I have come to view the rain with new appreciation.

The rain brings me peace. It makes this place really feel like home.

You know the saying when it rains it pours?? It's true in the desert. It's as if the heavens steal all the rain away from the desert for most of the year, and then, when it spills over the edges of the clouds, it all comes down at once. It wasn't until the first rainstorm after we moved into the house that we realized our house doesn't have gutters. Most houses here don't. It just doesn't rain enough to warrant them. While I thought it was odd at first, now it's sort of cool. The rain sheets off the roof all around the house, closing us in and giving us privacy and a sense of coziness.

Though I miss the rain, I love it here now.

Dream Big

Today is a sort of melancholy day. Most days I'm a pretty happy person. Life is good, and I've got much to be thankful for. My bad moods don't often last too long. I bounce back quickly and am back to my normal happy self. I'm easily amused, and I'm pretty friendly. I form bonds quickly, and there are very few people I don't like. I tend to see the good in people before I see the bad. I'm definitely sympathetic and empathetic. I hurt more for other people than I hurt for myself.

Four years ago, my students were being horrible to each other. They were calling each other names and just being generally mean. I had had enough, so I cancelled my plans one day, and decided we were going to have a day where we celebrated each other. I called it "warm fuzzies" and I was really excited. I printed a class list for every kid, and told them that they were going to write down one nice thing about each person on the list. I told them it had to be something genuine, too. Nothing about nice clothes or hair. I wanted them to think carefully and be real. I called each kid to the front of the room one at a time and said something I appreciated about them. I collected all of the papers and told them I would type up the lists and return them at a later date.

About a month and a half later I got a phone call that I will never forget. It was almost 10 p.m. on a Sunday night. Our phone doesn't typically ring that late. I looked at the caller i.d. and was surprised to see it was one of my principals calling. I answered the phone and got the shock of my life. Lori said she was sorry she was calling so late, but she was calling to let me know that "we lost one of your kiddos." I didn't understand what she was telling me. I had to ask her to repeat herself. She told me that one of my freshmen had passed away over the weekend. I still didn't quite understand and asked what happened. She said that D had passed away in his home, and that at that point the police were ruling it an accidental death. She told me again how sorry she was, and let me know that in the morning another one of the principals would be making an announcement to the student body. I thanked her for calling and hung up the phone.

I didn't sleep that night. I tossed and turned and cried all night long. I didn't want to go to school the next day. I didn't think I could do it. But I had to, because I wanted to be there for my kids when they found out. D was in my block class which meant that he went to three classes a day with the same kids. He was really quiet in class. He sat in my room for three quarters of a school year, and I felt I hardly knew him compared to some of the more boisterous kids in the class. But I already missed him. I was sad for D and his family, but I was also sad that my other kids were going to hurt. I wished like hell I could do something to help make it better for them. But how do you explain something like that to kids so young? How do you explain that to someone else's children?


The depth of my emotions startled me. I had only been teaching for three years, and nothing like this had ever happened before. We had lost two other students since I started teaching, but I didn't know the others.


D was in my sixth hour class. I cried all the way to work. I cried before school because well-meaning teachers who knew he was in my class came to see how I was doing. I managed to get myself together before school started and my seniors came to the room. But then I cried through my first hour class because Ralph got on the intercom and made the announcement. He did a beautiful job, and I lost my tenuous grip on composure. My students were great, though. They didn't know D because they were seniors and he was a freshman, but they could see I was hurting and the empathy they showed was sweet.


When 4th hour came around, administrators visited each of our block classes, and talked to our kids. They let them know what resources were available, and that we were there for them. Some kids hardly reacted. Others broke down completely. J was D's neighbor. He needed a hug. While I was hugging him, he told me through his tears that he had seen the paramedics taking D out of the house in a body bag. My heart broke.


J came to me and asked me to help him edit the eulogy he wrote. He also wanted to know if he could have D's warm fuzzies so he could read them at the funeral. I printed them out, and thanked God privately that we had done them.


The funeral was hard. It was on a school day, during school hours. Scott, Karen and I got people to cover our classes, and we went to the funeral. We were shocked to see how many kids were there. Several of them we thought were there just so they could get out of school, and that made us angry. But one of them in particular, shocked us. When the pastor asked if there was anyone who would like to share a memory, this young man stood up and said some of the nicest things. I had no idea he was as mature as he was. When J got up to speak, he did a beautiful job as well. He had a hard time reading the warm fuzzies, but he did it.


It took time, but we managed to get through it. Even though it was four years ago, D is often in my thoughts. Partly because we never got closure. The police reported it as an accidental death, and nothing else was ever said. I recently found out that it was officially ruled a suicide. I don't think I will ever forget D, or that horrible time.


Today it all came rushing back. I got an e-mail from one of the counselors at school. She said that M's grandma had come in to let us know that M tried to commit suicide last night, and is now in the hospital. I have only known M for about a month, yet those feelings are just as strong as they were when D passed away. I cried all the way home today.


Death is always sad. My friend's aunt just lost a four month long battle with a blood clot in her brain. I'm sad for her and her family. But somehow this is different. Cheryl had a long life. True, it was cut short, but she experienced life. M is still a baby. She has so much potential. How do you make her see that? I don't know much about her home life, but apparently it's pretty rough. She doesn't appear to have many friends at school. But how do we show her that life is still worth living?


A few months ago my friend created a slide show of pictures of her youngest child. She used a song that has quickly become one of my favorites; Dream Big by Ryan Shupe and the Rubber Band. The lyrics express what every parent wants for their child, and what every teacher wants for their kids.


Dream Big

When you cry be sure to dry your eyes,
'cause better days are sure to come.
And when you smile be sure to smile wide,
and don't let them know that they have won.
And when you walk, walk with pride,
don't show the hurt inside,
because the pain will soon be gone.

And when you dream, dream big,
As big as the ocean blue.
'Cause when you dream it might come true.
So when you dream, dream big.

And when you laugh be sure to laugh out loud,
'cause it will carry all your cares away.
And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself,
and it will help you feel okay.
And when you pray, pray for strength
to help you carry on when the troubles come your way.

And when you dream, dream big,
As big as the ocean blue.
'Cause when you dream it might come true.
So when you dream, dream big.

And when you laugh be sure to laugh out loud,
'cause it will carry all your cares away.
And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself,
and it will help you feel okay.
And when you pray, pray for strength
to help you carry on when the troubles come your way.

And when you dream, dream big,
As big as the ocean blue.
'Cause when you dream it might come true.
So when you dream, dream big.

It's days like today that make me thankful for what I've got. Dream big.

I'm not really a girly girl...but I love my purses

Throughout my entire life, I've considered myself to be somewhat of a tomboy. "Girly" stuff has never really interested me. I want to believe with all my heart that I'm a tomboy, but there are things that make me think maybe I'm wrong...

Consider the evidence:

When we moved to Gig Harbor and I got to pick the color I wanted my room painted. I picked pink. And not just any pink: Pepto-Bismal pink.

When J brings me flowers, I have no shortage of pretty vases to put them in.

I don't wear dresses or skirts...but I would love to!

When I bought a new cell phone, I was told it came in pink, blue, and black. I seriously considered getting pink before I chickened out and got the black.

I have too many pairs of shoes. And too many watches. But I have to match my outfits.

When J and I were shopping for new sheets for the bed, I was inexplicably drawn to the frilly flowery stuff...he had to argue hard to get me to compromise on tone-on-tone stripes.

I don't wear makeup that often, but I own a bunch.

When I buy scrapbooking stuff, I find myself oohing and aaahing over how cute everything is.

I have a drawer full of cloth napkins, napkin rings, and table runners.

I needed a lightweight, waterproof jacket for spring around here, so I bought a pink one. (For winter, I have a black wool pea coat or a blue men's Columbia ski jacket.)

I don't need J to open doors or carry things for me, but my heart just melts when he does.

I decorated my entire guest room around a duvet cover I bought two years before I even had a house. It sat in the bottom of the closet until we moved. Then I pulled it out, and matched the paint to the ribbons and flowers on the duvet.

I used to use lotion on my hands, but only during the winter when I absolutely had to. Now I use moisturizer every morning.

When J tells me I'm cute, I pretend to hate it, but I really love it.

And the most damning evidence of all: I have a new obsession with Coach purses. I blame my sister for this...she gave me my first real "grown-up" purse last Christmas, and I've been addicted ever since! In less than a year, my Coach collection has expanded to include: a black wristlet, a black purse with a matching wallet, a brown and white purse with a matching wallet, a teal green leather purse with a matching wallet, a patchwork print purse, and a key chain. See pictures below.

The wristlet T gave me when she first started at Coach. It is so cute!! (I use it as "female product storage" in my purse. Shh....don't tell anyone!)

This is the purse T gave me last Christmas. She knows me so well! I didn't think I liked Coach purses, but I fell in love with this as soon as I opened the box!

This is the wallet that matches my first purse. My parents gave it to me for Christmas when T gave me the purse.

The cutest key chain I ever saw! Also from T, also last Christmas. Again, I'm inexplicably drawn to pink!

I carried the black purse for several months. Then it was spring. I felt an unexplainable urge for a "spring colored" purse because the black one was too somber. I searched the Coach website, then called my sister and asked her to use her discount to purchase me a new purse! The color of this one is technically "pond" but it's a teal green, leather purse. I never in a million years would have thought I'd carry a green leather purse, but I LOVE it.

How cool are the stripes on the inside of the purse?? I think I like the inside almost as much as I like the outside!

A few months later, I purchased the matching wallet. Again, T was more than generous in her help! This wallet also has the same striping as the purse on the inside. How cute is it?? It's called a "French Purse." I love the turn lock closure!

When I did some traveling this last summer, I realized that neither one of my purses was very good for travel. When carrying the black purse, one hand isn't free. The teal purse goes over my shoulder, but is SMALL. When traveling, I like to have room in my purse for a bottle of water, a magazine, a book, my iPod, and a few other "essential" items so I don't have to have a carry on and a checked bag. With the new security rules, I like to travel as light as possible so I can get through places quickly. So I consulted my personal Coach shopper T again, and we decided that this patchwork bag would be perfect. It's big enough for what I wanted to carry, and it's got so many different fabrics / patterns, that even if it gets a little dirty traveling, nobody will notice.

My collection of Coach is becoming large...my sister's collection, however, is quite extensive. So much so, in fact, that she decided to sell some of the purses she doesn't really carry anymore. She let me and L, and our mom and step-mom have first dibs on her collection. I was sitting next to my husband at the bar at his friend's birthday party when T sent me pictures on my cell phone. I think it may have helped that J had been imbibing and was feeling pretty good when I told him that I wanted a new Coach purse for a 4th anniversary present. He was agreeable, and called T and handled everything!! He even got her to throw in the matching wallet! (He did admit that he felt odd buying me a used purse for a present...but I convinced him that it was exactly what I wanted. And, she only used it a few times before it got stored in the dust bag. And even though he pretends to be annoyed with my purse obsession, I think J secretly approves. After all, he doesn't have a problem storing some of his stuff in my purse! Sunglasses, cell phone, whatever he doesn't want to carry, he'll sneak into my bag.)

This wallet is tiny, but it works. And it matches. And I now have a thing about my wallet matching my purse: it has to.

Each of the purses comes in a brown cloth dust bag for storage. I don't know why I took a picture of this, but I did. So here it is.

Well, after looking at all of the evidence, I'm sad to admit that is might just be possible that I'm becoming a girly girl. I hate it, but I love my purses!

Pity points suck, part 2

Pictures of our practice gingerbread house, con't.

I started...I figured J could fix whatever I messed up!

Again, Sid is interested in what we're doing. He really liked sampling the sugared water we were using to rinse off our tools.

I told you J and his sisters are so engrossed in what they do that they don't pay attention to anything else.

I took more pictures, so it looks like J did all of it, but it was a definite collaboration between the two of us! I think it turned out pretty cute!

Well, I thought we were finished, but it turns out he had another idea in mind...

Aww...how sweet!

We're so gonna win for real this year!!

Pity points suck, part 1

Last year at Christmas, my sisters-in-law challenged J and I to a Food Network Style Gingerbread house competition. How cool is that??!! We debated whether or not to invite Mom and Dad to join us, as she is a professional artist and he's an engineer who does carpentry for fun. After much discussion, we finally decided that we would let them participate. Who knew that they weren't going to be the "real" competitors?? I suppose I should have known. While we were discussing our ground rules, the discussion included a time limit. I've been a part of this family for a long time, and I knew better. My husband and his sisters will start a project, and nothing will stop them until they are done. Nothing. They won't use the restroom, eat, or even take a break. They are focused from start to finish. My attention span on the other hand rivals that of a three year old. We agreed on a two hour time limit.




We had a scoring rubric that included cleanliness of the workstation, general attitude of the contestants (points were lost for cussing and general crabbiness - I DO know my husband!), creativity, use of materials, etc. We all started with the same basic kit that Mom got from somewhere. And we all had access to the same extra materials. H bought some rock candy and other cool things, and Mom cleaned out her cupboards of the "crap I can't give away" to add to the mix.



J and I contributed the trophies. They were COOL. A few years ago H and C had the first annual Hocking family Zucchini Olympics. They had many events, all with the goal of getting rid of the abundance of zucchini from Mom's garden. To open the ceremony they had a gnarled branch with a beer can on top (ALL Hockings drink beer...it's their drink of choice) that they set on fire. Well, the torch was trashed after the festivities, but it served as the inspiration for our fabulous trophies! J and I went to Value Village looking for real trophies that we could modify and came up empty. We did, however, stumble across the most hideous wooden candle holders that looked like twisted gnarled branches. And we found a bobble head gingerbread man! How lucky were we?? We snatched up our finds and headed home. On our way we stopped at the hardware store for epoxy and silver, gold, and bronze spray paint. Then we stopped at the grocery store and bought a single 24 ounce can each of Coors Light and Coors. (The cans are silver and gold!)



When we got home we spray painted one of the candlesticks gold, and one silver. The bobble head was painted bronze. I pounded a nail into the bottom of each beer, and drained it down the sink. My father in law would have had a heart attack to see me waste perfectly good beer like that...J nearly did. But, it was for the good of the art. Once the cans had been rinsed and dried, and the candlesticks were ready, we epoxied them all together and voila! Trophies the Hocking family would be proud to earn! I wish I had thought tot take pictures, but I didn't. However, they are proudly on display in the barn in the game room at Mom and Dad's, so I'll get pictures next time we go visit.



As soon as the competition started, it was pretty apparent that J and I were totally unprepared. We opened our kit, and stared at it, hoping for inspiration or brilliance to strike us. Unfortunately, it didn't. Finally we remembered a picture book down in the basement, The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Manus Pinkwater. (If you haven't read this book, you should. It's fabulous! In fact, C credits this book with her creativity and individuality today!) Basically, the main character of the story lives in a subdivision and all of the houses look the same. A bird flies by and drops a big orange splot of paint on the roof and the neighbors freak out. They want to know when he is going to fix his house. The main character thinks about it for awhile, and then, in the middle of the night, he uses a ton of other colors and paints his house. Long story short, eventually the whole neighborhood expresses their individuality by redecorating their houses. J and I thought this would be a perfect house to model our gingerbread house on!! Unfortunately, it was much harder than we thought. First the frosting was too thick, then we made it too runny. Then it soaked into the house in spots and dripped off in others. Basically, we ended up with a mess instead of a masterpiece. For the most part we kept our sense of humor. But then the time was up and we looked at our competition.



It wouldn't have been so bad if we had been competing against 3rd graders. Unfortunately, we were competing against his sisters and his parents. Mom and Dad made a replica of the barn. Including a campfire outside that was made from very thin shavings of jelly beans. A miniature version of Dad was near the fire, wearing a John Deere hat.



You've got to be kidding me.



Then we went to look at H and C's. Holy cow. Mom and Dad's looked amateurish compared to their architectural work of art. Instead of building the house as it came, they did some home renovations and created a beach bungalow with an incredible front porch. Instead of just decorating the house and the tray that it came with, they used an entire huge cookie sheet and created frosting water, colored sugar sand, rocks and boulders out of rock candy. Instead of using frosting or jelly beans on the house, they used the rock candy so it looked like a real house with stone siding. Instead of the palm trees made from cookie straws and gummy leaves like J and I used, C chopped individual squares of dark chocolate and glued them together with royal icing. They cut an opening in the wall for a window, melted jellybeans and created stained glass windows. It was incredible. You had to see it to believe it.



Then they all came to look at our monstrosity. They were very nice about it. Talked about our originality. And how it looked like the house from the story. They very gently glossed over the lumpy / watery frosting. They didn't even mention how all the colors ran together and instead of an orange splot it looked like a very large and very sick bird pooped on the roof.


As we walked around the houses again, this time with our scoring rubrics in hand, it seemed futile. We all knew who had won. But, we had to see this out. Then Mom and Dad did the math, and tallied up the scores. We wondered what was taking so long. Then we heard Dad say, "That can't be right." And more number crunching.



Turns out we were so pathetic, both other teams were very generous when they awarded us points, and apparently were not as kind to themselves.



We won.



It was almost embarrassing. We wanted to call a revote, but then we remembered the trophies and decided we would take their pity this time. But we vowed to each other right then and there that we would NOT find ourselves in the same situation next year. We were going to practice and we were going to come to the table with a game plan.



Which brings me to these pictures. I was at Wal-Mart the other day, and found a gingerbread Halloween house!!! I snagged one and hurried home to show J! He was not as enthusiastic as I had hoped he'd be. In fact, instead of jumping for joy and ripping into the box immediately as I had expected, he shook his head and said, "You are SO weird."



Apparently he has blocked from his reality the humiliation we experienced last year at the hands of his sisters. I haven't.



Pity points suck, and we don't want 'em...again. So, suck it up, cowboy, and let's decorate this house!

Here's the cookie house!

J is digging out all the supplies...

"Do we really have to do this?"

Sid started chewing on the house as soon as we turned our backs.
The frosting was powdered, we just had to add water. It was cool to see it start to turn colors as soon as the water hit it.
I thought we could just eyeball the extra 1/4 teaspoons of water we were to add until we got the right consistency. Apparently that's not a good idea. So J searched for the right utensil.

I got to mix orange, J got to mix black, his favorite color!

And we're finally started....more in another post.

Funny Feline Friends

J and I don't have kids, but we want them. In the meantime we have to satisfy our shutterbug tendencies on photos of our two cats, Sid and Zoe. Sid is a black and white tuxedo cat. He is the cuddliest cat I've ever known. He is not happy sitting near you, he wants to sit on you. And unfortunately he doesn't care what you want. If you want to cuddle, you're in luck. If you want some space, you're out of luck. He's persistent. He won't sit on your lap very often...he crawls up onto your shoulder and then flips onto his back with his paws in the air. Imagine cradling a sleeping infant...that's my weirdo cat. He also is quite good looking. I like to tell him he's pretty, but I get corrected EVERY time by J...boys, apparently, are not pretty, they are handsome. Whatever.

Zoe is a pretty, brown tortoiseshell tabby. She has HUGE feet, long legs, a long tail, and furry ears. We were told that she may be part Main Coon Cat...she's too small to have much MCC in her, but she's awful cute! She is not much of a cuddler. With me, anyway. She likes to sit on J's lap. I think she does it to make me mad. Sometimes she sits with me when I'm at the computer, but that's pretty rare. She does, however, sleep with me. Under the blankets, between my knees. Weird.

We have hundreds of pictures of our cats...but these are just a few of my favorites.

I told you he likes to be cradled like a baby. We've compromised and I am allowed to rest his back on the table or desk when I'm working so I can have one hand free. If I'm not busy, though, it's not acceptable to rest him anywhere. I have to hold him.

Again on the shoulder and in the face. He's just too cute to resist! Fortunately, we broke him of the GROSS habit of sucking on earlobes pretty quickly.

Told you she'd sit on his lap. Ever since we brought her home she's been drawn to his lap. I think it's because he has freaky long legs and big feet, too. She feels a kindred spirit. And, compared to my lap, his is spacious...she can stretch out and get comfy!

Last time she sat on my lap, I was able to take a picture of it...you can see what she thought of that!

Sid likes J's lap, too. When they watch tv together, J often lets Sid choose the channel. They both like sports, Dirty Jobs, Ghost Hunters, and NCIS.

She much prefers J's back!! I'm not sure what he was doing on all fours, but she took advantage of the situation and jumped right up. She would NOT get off, either! I had time to go get a camera and take multiple pictures.



Sid can get into some odd places. We were in the living room and could hear him meowing in the kitchen. We couldn't find him, though, until J looked up. There he was above the cupboards! J is 7 ft. tall, so you can see the cupboards are pretty high. Somehow Sid was able to get all the way up there! We think he either took a huge jump from the counter, or took a leap of faith from the fridge. (The fridge is right behind where J is standing in this picture.) He only did it a few times, but it was pretty funny.

Zoe, too, can get into some strange places. She loves the linen closet. J pulled the towel down. I'm not sure why. To give her some privacy as she sullied my clean towels with her long hair?




Who knows why cats do what they do. She HATES water, like most cats. Yet I walked into the kitchen one day and found her chilling out in the sink. Bizarre.

Heaven forbid my school bag stay open and on a flat place. She simply can not resist it. If I have a lot of grading to do, she's excited!

I told you she sleeps under the covers with me at night. I'm not making it up. I wish my cat were normal, and that these pictures were staged, but they are real. Both cats use pillows like they were people. And if Sid is around, Zoe practically dives under the covers. I have claw marks all over my legs where I apparently didn't move the way she wanted me to in my sleep. J, too, sleeps under the covers. Weird, I know. He was NOT happy to see I had taken this picture of him napping with the cat. He's even more unhappy to know I'm posting it on the web. But it's his fault...if he weren't so darn cute...

I just love this picture. It's hard to capture a black cat's features, but this one turned out great!




There's nothing better (or cuter) than two cats cuddling in a basket of clean towels.

Unless it's two cats cuddling together on the couch.

He is the yin to her yang. Except for when they are playing what J affectionately refers to as "grab ass" and chasing each other around the house as if they were going to kill each other.

Aww...aren't they cute!! J is a night owl, and I'm a morning person, so I am often able to catch him catnapping if I get him up early. Especially on a winter weekend day. We don't have kids, so we like to indulge ourselves and sleep whenever and wherever we feel like it. The cats thought he had the right idea, so they joined him.

Two small cats on a queen size bed, and they sleep right next to each other. They're so cute.