the word

clean slateI have been working on coming up with a word for 2014.  My word for 2013 was SEEK.  It popped up over and over and gently reminded me to seek help and answers when I needed them.  I found myself seeking health and wellness.  I may have become a little narrow-minded.  Health and Wellness were all I could see some days.  Honestly, I couldn’t stop the loop in my head over and over.  Will this help me heal?  Is this action going to help my health?  Will this book, movie, outing encourage wellness?

I have narrowed my search down.  While I love the word “march”.  Mr. Right and I were married in March.  I want to march into the new year.  It sounded rather forceful and a tad mean.  I wanted to ease, explore, wander and meander, not march on with a mad face.

I rather love the word encourage.  I like the implication of the simple word.  I want to be encouraged and I love to encourage others.  This morning when I read my statistics for my blog for the last year, I was encouraged that my blog had been view 7,100 times.  While that may not be much to other bloggers, to me, I was tickled pink.  I always say that I write for myself, however, just knowing so many people had taken a peak at my words made me a bit giddy.  Sort of makes me want to take my grammar and punctuation a touch more serious…………..nah, I like it the way it is.  ha

So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doingEncourage those who are timid. Take tender care of those who are weak. Be patient with everyone…Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances…Hold on to what is good.“  1Thessalonians, Chapter 5

I am almost there.  I really had just about settled on the word.  Encourage.  I like it.  It was an A-.  I was close.  It was almost a good fit.   …Hold on to what is good.   I like it.  I like the word “good”.  I am good enough.   The way I love is good enough.  The way I remember others is good.    How can I measure up?  When everything is too much.  I just have to trust, that’s good enough.  Maybe my word should be “good”?

I just came in from fluffing and puffing the chicken palace.  While outside, I was breathing in fresh air and cleaned off the deck and raked up some leaves.  I cleaned off a pathway and picked up some broken twigs.  Just the action of being outdoors and breathing somehow makes my day better.  The fresh air clears my head and my thinking.  The “mess” of the day somehow straightens out and I can see more clearly.  I am a tad uptight.  Does that come as a shock?  When everything is way too much, I am wound up like a coiled spring.  I come to a point where I have to breathe.  I need to take deep gulps of air and breathe in and out.  It helps.  Really it does.fresh start

Fresh.  I think I figured out my word for 2014.  Done and done.  I am liking it.  I have swirled it around on my tongue a couple of times.  I tried it out on the dog.  She seemed impressed.  By impressed I mean, she continued napping on her bed and lifted open one beautiful brown eye, as if to say, yeah, that sounds good.  Yeah, good for you!

freshI am making it my mission in life to eat more fresh foods.  I am going to focus on getting more fresh air.  I am going to wipe the slate clean with old, tired, depressing topics and start anew.  Fresh.  I like the idea of being a little fresh with the boyfriend. ….Miss Daleen was being very “fresh” with Mr. Right.  Oh, I like the sound of that.  Focus a little more on us and pay attention to the small details that make a 32 year “going steady” gig, lively and interesting and well, fresh. We are starting with a fresh calendar.  Brand spankin’ new.  We will start counting coupons again.  We will add up pounds of vegetables and fruits.  We will start fresh with saving coins for vacation and weekend trips.  We will start fresh with adding up all the miles we walk and bike. There is a clean, empty, mason jar sitting on the counter fresh and ready to begin holding all the Good that will happen in the new year.

I love how one blogger signed off for the last blog of the year……..Here’s to significant and wide-sweeping strokes of grace and encouragement in 2014, and beyond!

I wish for you, my friends, WIDE-SWEEPING strokes of Grace and Encouragement, and focus on Holding on to Good.  My wish for Mr. Right, myself, our family and all our friends…… all those things plus a FRESH start.

I am standing here with open arms and a huge smile on my face.  We will welcome the year in with a gorgeous jigsaw puzzle and great food.  Hello 2014!  You are more than welcome in our home.  Here’s to a Fresh New Beginning for all of us.  Cheers!

fresh start

This morning while reading my devotional, the focus of our prayer time was for “those seeking a fresh start”.  I included my name in that group.

Waiting to start on January 1, is like some sort of kind of crazy diet……….”I will start on Monday”.  haha

New YearWhile I am officially waiting for New Year’s Day to wipe the slate clean and start fresh, I have begun to clean and I can “smell” the fresh in my fresh start.  Our Creator has already given each of us gifts. As I look ahead to the new year, I pray for wisdom to recognize my gifts and to seek opportunities to use them for good.

Each day this week, a bit more cleaning, a bit more organizing is taking place.  The recycle bin is full to overflowing and the garbage can is screaming for relief.  While I do enjoy a good clean out, I am trying to come up with ideas on how I might handle things better this coming year.  I do not want to sick my head in the sand and pretend that everything is peachy.  I would rather focus the biggest block of my time and energy on good.

While physically cleaning and organizing is tangible and rather easy to accomplish, it is my attitude and behavior I am choosing to change in the coming year.  I am seeking pure goodness in how I behave.

Yesterday, a friend revealed her very serious medical condition.  It is all about her, however, after I hung up the phone the wind had been knocked right out of me.  Immediately,  I lifted her name up in prayer.  I thought of little else since.  I am trying to figure out a way to be caring and supportive and yet in an upbeat, happy, positive way.  We all know folks who for some reason, take on your illness or condition and are very, very sad/sorry for you.  You end up spending more than enough time, trying to make them feel better.  I want it to be easy for my friend when she opens my cards and notes.  I want my little gifts of goodness to be a sparkle to her spirit.  I don’t want her to cringe if she reads or hears my name.  I want her to be curious & eager to see what I have up my sleeve that day.  I want to be a sparkle in her day.

I do not want to spend the year ahead feeling guilty for anything.  I want my spirit to soar and live joyously.  I have spent more than enough time this past year beating myself up and forgetting to let my sparkle shine.  Instead of waiting until the New Year, last night I worked up my big girl courage and as gently as I could, told Mr. Right, I would like to return the beautiful Brighton purse he gave me for Christmas.  Of course he was super easy-going about it and not a problem.  I was just fretting and worried and boy, I did not want to feel guilty for the year or many years to come, every time I spied that beauty in my closet.

I would rather send my family a gift on January 23rd then wait until their anniversary.  I would rather send lovely little Valentine gifts then wait for a birthday.  I would rather call a friend out of the blue and have a silly conversation, then text a couple of lines and call it good. New Year two

My fresh start includes kindness to myself as well as others.  Instead of kicking myself for leaving off (on purpose) one family on my Christmas card list (we received their card yesterday)………I want to focus on the 100’s we sent out on time and with a silly picture.

I want my fresh start to include celebrating my good behavior.  I am taking the word “Happy” in Happy New Year to heart.  I think we all could use a fresh start.

“We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.” 
Edith Lovejoy Pierce



a jar of GOOD

Oh boy, oh boy, do I adore this idea…………………………… Please join me?  Let me know if you love it as much as I do.  This is going to be exceptional and fun and easy and happy!

We can all jump on the band wagon.  It’s free, it’s easy, it is going to be so rewarding………………………….

good jarGrab an empty jar — an old bottle of marinara sauce, mason jar or whatever. Clean it well and leave it someplace where you see it all the time, like on the fireplace or near your night stand. Every time something good happens, write it on a piece of paper and slip it into the jar. Then on December 31st, 2014, we will dump it out and read it. Chances are something great has already happened this year, so you already have something to add to it. (This idea came to me by way of  Engine 2 Diet )

Yes, we already have our jig saw puzzle picked out for New Years Eve.  We have our snacks planned and I we are looking forward to a new year full of GOODNESS and HEALTH and WELLNESS and so much happiness it will be ridiculously amazing. 

Instead of grumbling and repeating all the stupid, awful, horrid, nasty, crummy stuff that happened in 2013…………….we are working on setting the stage for an amazing 2014!!!!

I hope our jar of GOOD is so full we will have to cram and jam and poke and Smoosh all the notes of GOOD that happens to us in the up coming year.

I adore this week in between Christmas and New Year’s Eve.   Such promise and hope, by way of boxing things up and clearing the decks.  Wiping the slate clean and beginning over.  It’s like a do over for adults.  We get to have a do over.  Imagine that.  All the stupid, dull, uninspired things of years past…………gone.  Only the hope of incredible grace and good and silly and happy will be at our beck and call.

I am going to embrace it and do the new year up right.  Happy and Positive and Cheerful with a spring in my step.

Won’t you join me?

Oh just think of all the possibilities?

put it down

Once, when I was a young school girl in the early 1970’s,  I was walking home with some girlfriends.  We were on a corner saying a long goodbye, we won’t see you until tomorrow….what are you going to wear………………  just then a car drove by, a little boy in the back seat stuck his tongue out at me.  So I stuck my tongue out at him.  His Dad pulled over, stopped the car and got out.  He gave me a talking to about my bad behavior.    I didn’t say a thing, except I am sorry.  I remember it today 2013.

Yesterday, while driving around getting last-minute stocking stuffers and a couple of groceries, I momentarily wished it was the 70’s.  As a long line of cars waiting through yet another red light, people & their frustrations were bubbling.  Cars swerved out of lanes and I ended up behind the “problem” child driving a pretty new, silver Subaru, Washington license plate 384-YTG.  Yes, I memorized it, I had the time.  She was a cute girl who appeared to be about 16 or 17.  She was texting and kept missing the green light to make the left turn.  Once it turned green, I lightly tooted on the horn and she jolted forward.  Myself and two other cars made it through the light.  I followed her and she was drifting into the right lane, then the left.  People were honking at her.  She sped up and then slowed way down.  I wanted to get away from her, for safety reasons and because she was making me crazy.

Actually, I wanted to pull up in front of her, slow down, stop and walk over to her window.  I wanted to hold out my hand and say it.  Hand over the keys.  I mean it, right now.  I will drive you home and give these keys to your parents who bought you this nice car.  I wanted to teach her a lesson she would never forget.  I wanted her to understand the privilege it is to drive.  I wanted her to understand how many of our lives are in her hands.  I wanted her parents to give a hoot.  But alas, in the day and age that we live, I had no right to do that.  Nor would the parents appreciate me “helping” them parent.

I am still a parent and YES, both our boys and girls know exactly how I feel about texting and driving.

She finally turned off.  I went on my merry way.  I prayed for her safety and those around her.

TaylorThen I thought of our friends Clay and Shauna Sauer and their family.   They lost their sweet daughter Taylor, because of texting.  I wonder how their hearts break all over again when they see a young person texting and driving.  It has been a long grieving process.  I am so humbled and impressed with the lengths that family has gone to, in helping educate and bring awareness to this social problem of all ages.  Please say a prayer of peace and goodness for this wonderful family.   May God Bless the work the Sauer Family is doing on behalf of their daughter & sister.  Thank you for walking over the coals of grief to help so many.

To: silver Subaru 384-YTG………………. may God watch over you and bathe you in the Grace that young people need.  Texting while driving is an extremely high price to pay for being a silly, goofy kid.  Maybe if you are old enough to drive, you aren’t so silly and goofy.  Maybe you need to understand the lesson.

Please share this post with any kiddo in your life.  I know they will roll their eyes.  Let them roll their eyes at me.  I don’t care.  I will gladly stand beside their car and hold out my hand to them as well.  I am more than willing to be the mean old lady.  Yep, that’s me.  Caring and mean.

time for a change

I am easing into Monday.  Settling in and finding my inner peace.  Yep, worked through some yoga this morning, nice and steady and slow and methodical.

I may have over done it the last few weeks?  I am feeling it and not proud of the feeling.  I adore our dog, however, she got all excited and “loved” me a little too much on Friday.  She showed her love by knocking me down in the backyard.  I am still feeling a bit stiff and sore.  Geesh.

So last night while Mr. Right put up a tree ( a smaller version of our usual 800 ornament crowning glory) and put a candle in each window.  I was stitching and watching.

Today, I have a couple of last-minute goodies to buy.  Oh and I need some almond milk.  Stopping by the fish market to pick up some goodies for us.

I like the idea of tradition.  However, sometimes, our traditions are far from simple and easy.

I enjoy baking bread to give to friends during this time of year.  I will continue that tradition.

I enjoy our candles in the windows and our Seafood feast on Christmas eve.

I don’t like the feeling of having to give a gift because it is expected.  The gift thing still has my brain all twisted up.  Even a great cup of morning coffee is not untangling that mess.  I like the idea of taking a surprise goodie to my honey lady.  Nope, she wasn’t expecting it.  Yes, she was happy and thrilled and gave me a great big hug.  She almost yelled, Merry Christmas! …and I do believe she meant it.   I don’t care for the idea of folks not being friendly, nor kind, nor thoughtful throughout the year, then presenting us with a gift.  Merry Christmas?  weird.

I have had an incredibly hard time this season with celebration foods and goodies.  For over 35 years and well my whole life, I have celebrated this yearly holiday with sugar and cookies and peanut brittle and candy and Jewish cookies and traditional fare.  It has been tough.

I have implemented some new lovely things I hope to be a tradition.  I did enjoy visiting family the beginning of the month.  I don’t know if we can do that every year, but I sure would like to try to do it more frequently.  I LOVE the huge basket of little, easy to peel & eat, oranges on the counter to grab one as you pass by.  sweet.

One thing, I am going to try, instead of our usual Cinnamon Rolls for Breakfast Christmas morning………………………..I am going to borrow a tradition from my niece.  I am making the batter the night before.  I will be making crepes come Christmas morning.  It is a tradition in their home.  I am going to borrow that tradition and tweak it a bit for us in the Pacific Northwest.  While I doubt that the Wilson’s on the East coast will be filling their crepes with crab and shrimp , we will be sharing the tradition of a lovely crepe breakfast to begin the day.  It makes me happy and I feel connected by creating the same breakfast.DSCN2817

It’s time for some changes.  Not all changes are bad.  The time has come to clean out the old and make way for some really wonderful new treats and ideas.

Thank the good Lord, that I have people in my life willing to share the goodness of their holiday.  Willing to share the things that make it special for them.

Can’t wait for Christmas breakfast.  Yes, I plan on using fresh eggs in the crepe batter.  Yes, I will think of and be grateful for my niece who shared her recipe.

I love the idea of bathing Mr. Right and I in pure goodness and grace, on Christmas morning.  Love to hear what you serve for the morning meal on Christmas day.

Merry Christmas from my niece, my sis in law and me.  Look at those pretty Christmas smiles!  DSCN2822


Peace of Pie

blackery pie 3I am not sure if it is because I have not had sugar since that delightful personal crème brulee for my birthday in May, or if I just thought of the moment so long?  I had been dreaming about, thinking about, judging everything against it for months.  “THE” pie.  The slice of thick, deep & intense color, aromatic, mouth-watering (even before I tasted it), the heavenly scent of Blackberry Pie.

Every time in the last few months, I would spy a dessert or a candy or have a mini meltdown over not being able to have what I wanted, I thought of Blackberry Pie.  A friend gently told me, that maybe a piece of pie or a Bliss bar once during the season would be a lovely treat and not a terrible thing.  Maybe a tiny indulgence would be a good thing.

I may have forgotten the words “tiny indulgence” while on vacation.  Over the course of a week, I INDULGED with FOUR generous slices of pie.  I was a member of the clean plate club each time.

My sis in law, is amazing.  Not only does she bake like an angel………oh those flakey crusts…………..they melt in your mouth……….the flavor, rich, buttery, slightly crisp and if lucky you get a tiny piece of the crust that is baked a minute or two too long and it is toasty and light brown……………

Where was I?  Oh yes, my sis in law.  I could not have made it through the last (2 days shy) of twelve months without her.  She has listened to me cry, rant, rave, SWEAR, sniff my snotty nose, beg for answers, ask a million and one questions.  She has listened and listened and sent cards and goodies and little presents.  She has answered the phone every single time, I needed help.  She has helped me heal.  She has walked over the hot coals and not complained once.  She has agreed with me when I said some medical person was mean and nasty.  She has listened to me complain and grumble and sob.  Although she may not have agreed 100% with my “kooky” ideas, she never once let on.  She supported me and continues to do so, every single step in this jig.  She goes to the gym daily, I think of her when I am biking.  She is an amazing wife and mom and friend.  She has taught me so much.

She made me a promise of a blackberry pie.  Yes, that is what it took for me to keep working every single day.  To take all 47 supplements daily, bike four miles a day, get fresh air, get sunshine, do my yoga, think positive, research and more research, drink my green juice and avoid all the bad stuff out there.  The carrot (yes, I eat at least four a day) dangling at the end of that wooden stick…………………a slice of homemade blackberry pie.

blackberry pie sliceThe small round table was set, the forks were placed in their proper place, the drawer was pulled open to get a knife to cut into that beautiful, marked with a “B” in the crust, pie.  (Mr. Right says it is for him, Bruce, I say it is for Blue Ribbon, she giggled and said it is for Blackberry)  That first slice was gently placed on a plate and served.  It was the longest 2 minutes to wait I have ever sat through.  Being polite and waiting until all have been served was almost more than this fussy girl could handle.  I can smell the cups of coffee, swirling with a dark, rich scent all around us.  Waiting, just waiting to compliment that slice of goodness.  Pure goodness.

The moment the fork at an angle, pierced the point of that slice of heaven.  The weight of it on my fork.  Bringing it to my mouth. Closing my lips around the fork and sliding the triangular piece off the fork and onto my tongue.  Letting it sit there and melt in my mouth.  The chewing, the flavor, the tart, the sweet, the savory crust…….my mouth is watering right now as I type.  blackerry pie taste

I earned that bite of pie.  I earned every single bite of that slice.  Actually I earned every bite of the four slices I had while on vacation.  Yes, I was willing to pay for plane tickets and fly from one side of the country to the other, rent a car, drive four hours, wear boots, live through -8*, have my hair go insanely “joyful” for a few days, blow my nose until it looked like Santa’s, act like a goofy girl with the time change (I still haven’t reset my watch, now that I think about it), one dead battery, one missed wake up call, endure one freshly painted elevator in a hotel that stunk to high heaven……………………all, all of that for a piece of pie.  Well, and I got to hug my family and say thank you in person for helping me back on the road to wellness and health.  I worked hard everyday to make that journey.  It was worth it, oh was it worth it.

For some reason, I got incredibly lucky.  I got a sister out of the marriage deal.  She is the real thing.  She is intelligent, funny, kind, loyal, sews amazing Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls, is a wonderful wife and example for me. She doesn’t judge and here is a very girly thing………her nails………………she does and takes care of her nails almost daily.  They look pretty and cared for and beautiful on a daily basis.   AND, she has the best laugh in the world.  It makes you feel like everything is going to be okay.

Man oh man, do I LOVE her and her Blackberry Pie.  I tell you, it could inspire Peace on Earth and Harmony across the world.  Yes, that good.

One time years ago, together we wrote a cookbook.  On the cover, we wrote, “Chance made us sisters, Hearts made us Friends”.  It is my good fortune and a privilege and honor to call her friend.

boy germs

I grew up with two sisters.  We had oodles of girl cousins and neighborhood girlfriends and girlfriends from school.  We wore dresses and pretty shoes that my father always shined Saturday night for the next morning’s Sunday School attire.  We fussed over our hair.  Lots of hair.  Long, beautiful, curly hair.  Hair ribbons and bows and dippity do and pony tails and braids and tangles and tears.  We attended “White Gloves and Party Manners” classes.  We were taught good manners and how to walk like a lady by practicing with a broom stick and a book on our heads.  We walked outdoors on the patio with our fancy high-heeled shoes while wearing shorts and rolled up play pants.  We were learning to become young ladies.

Somewhere, sometime, it happened.  Boys.  They sure were a different breed.  They were messy and dirty and rumpled and sweaty and THEY DIDN’T care.

I grew up in the great state of Washington.  Clear across the land and in a different country, two brothers were growing up in Quebec.   Little did I know that they rough housed and fought and wrestled and poked at each other.  Those two guys did not have a Blue Ribbon upbringing.

However, somehow, they figured out the good stuff.  They figured out how to buy gorgeous jewelry  and buy pretty flowers for the ladies in their lives.  They figured out how to treat their wives with pure goodness.  They figured out how to find a career and stick with it and rise to the top.  Somehow without any guidance, they figured out the words, patriotism and loyalty.

I doubt you will find two brothers who will talk about it less, ignore the amazing bond they have, not mention what they have built and joke more.

The men in my life are faithful as the day is long.  They are both intelligent, funny, honest,  competitive with themselves and have an amazingly strong sense of right and wrong.  It is crystal clear to them.  No matter what others think, they know the path they are walking.    Sometimes their mannerisms or actions are so similar it is spooky. Both have a love affair with being on time, (to them that means 11 minutes early to everything).  Both stomp the snow off their boots they same way.

When my sister-in-law and I married our guys,………..we each got a brother as well.  Gosh, I can’t tell you how much I love those guys.

When I am in the same room, restaurant, building, classroom, kitchen….. as those two men, I feel safe and protected and cared for, adored and loved.  It is this strange, shimmering, almost glimmer of a bubble that protects us, in that very moment in time.

Decades later,  I scratch my head and ponder, just how on earth did those two, boys with germs, grow up to be men of honor?

You can actually feel the respect they have for one another.

They give each other space.

They have each other’s back.

One drives a truck, the other a car.  They root for very different Hockey teams. Yesterday, one awoke to -17* and the other to 41*.

They have been playing the same golf board game for over 30 years.  DSCN2841

They’d lay down their lives for each other.

Boys Germs – Brothers……………. it takes my breath away.  

beautiful nails and clean hands

When I was a little girl, I loved elementary school.  I loved my friends and being in a classroom.  I loved my own desk.  While mine was not nearly as neat and tidy as the other girls, I did keep the pencil tray completely clean.  When the teacher was not looking, I, along with some of the other girls, would run a squirt of Elmer’s School Glue down the little groove where you were suppose to keep your pencil.  We would be careful not to bump it or touch it with anything.  Then come tomorrow, and we would peel out the set glue and make fake “fingernails” to trim and “press-on” to wear.  It makes me giggle thinking of it today.  We were so creative and cleaver.  We thought the teacher didn’t know.

While on vacation, we had the privilege of visiting our niece’s Fourth grade class room.  She teaches at a private school in Barton, Vermont.   It was a wonderful treat to see her in her element.  Those elementary school kids adore her.  She is not the old-fashioned, dull, sensible shoes wearing, fourth grade teacher we all had.  She is slight, and pretty and has gorgeous blond hair.  She wears silly pins and necklaces.  She has pretty clothes and fancy shoes.  Her appearance is important to her and you just know those girls are watching her every fashion move.   She piles her golden locks up on her head with fancy ties and the day we were there,  she used curly que Christmas ribbons.  She does not command authority.  Somehow, when you watch her, the children hang on every word she says.  They respect her.  Weather it was looking closely at “Twilight” their classroom hamster or while she gave instructions about the next project, you could hear it in those children’s voices, see it in their eyes.  She is their teacher and they admire her and wait for her to lead them.  She is marching forward with intelligence and a positive attitude and those students are following right behind her.

While standing in the back of the classroom, after looking at all the wonderful and inspiring decorations and brightly colored walls, I began to notice a couple of the young ladies fussing near their desks.  I could smell a sweet scent.  Just so happens, I was sneaking a peek at sweet and silly fourth grade girls mixing “flavors” of antibacterial hand wash.  They each had their own personal sized bottle….Vanilla with apple,  sour something with lemon and so the sneaking and mixing went on.  They kept an eye on their teacher to make sure she didn’t see them.  You could see the smile in their eyes.

We were so lucky to be able to see our niece as a teacher.  Those children and the school are lucky to have her and the support her parents give unconditionally to the students and staff.  While walking through the halls, you are instantly transported back to the days when you were tripping on your own shoelaces and trying to cram things into the lockers.  One student told us, “Miss Wilson, had to put air fresheners in each of our lockers.”  Gee, could it be the damp wet coats and boots and more that fourth graders have with them?

We are all worried about the state of our educational system in America.  As we should be.  However, I just wanted to share, that in a little remote corner of New England, Miss Wilson’s Fourth Grade class is alert, attentive and eager to learn from their teacher.  There is respect in the air.  There is pride in the uniforms they wear.  It made me happy to watch, listen and learn.  It gave me a sense of hope.  Hope in the future of our educational system and the students.

My wish is that every fourth grader across the land has the privilege of having a teacher a remarkable as Miss Wilson.  I hope every student across America has to write a thank you letter to a Veteran and address an envelope.  I hope they each have to listen with both ears because their teacher never shouts at them.   She is the kind of teacher, whom the children will remember.  ….oh, my fourth grade teacher was tough, smart, fair, honest, kind and considerate.  Oh, and every single day, she  wore a little cat pin or jewelry or sweater of some sort with a cat on it.

What those students don’t know………………………. when Miss Wilson earned her teaching certificate, she was also given a special set of eyes.  She wears them in the back of her head.    When she came home after teaching that day, she said yes, she could see and smell the girls mixing the antibacterial hand wash.

My heart did a happy dance when I saw her name outside of her class room, Miss Wilson.

Yes, she is one of the “good” teachers.  I just bet she is the kind of teacher that would not have scolded me for making “press on nails” out of Elmer’s Glue.

Those students (with very clean and sweet-smelling hands)  are indeed themselves in very good & capable paul's

“It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken joy in creative expression and knowledge.”  Albert Einstein