David: Jonathan's BFF

First of all, I've heard of artistic license, but come on...

Robert Papp © CPH

Today's 5th/6th grade Sunday School lesson was David and Jonathan, and we had some pretty interesting discussions about friendship.

To explain loyalty, I offered this tidbit:

"I am loyal to the Dallas Cowboys. I watch every game and always cheer for Tony Romo and Jason Witten. Who are you loyal to?"

"I'm loyal to the Aggies..."

"She only likes the Aggies because our cousin went to Aggie Station."

Geenious.

Next we read I Samuel 20:16 and discuss it's implications. (So Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, "May the LORD call David's enemies to account.")

"What if David hated pumpkin pie? Would Jonathan have to hate pumpkin pie?"

Alright. We're getting somewhere.

Finally near the end of the lesson I ask how Jesus demonstrated the same qualities of trust, loyalty, and sacrifice as Jonathan.

"Jesus was loyal to God by dying on the cross for our sins..."

"Have you seen Madagascar 2?"

I tried.

Marbled Eggs

Marbled eggs have been a holiday tradition in my family for as long as I can remember. They're basically just salted boiled eggs, but if you have never seen one they can really throw you off. Once I brought these to a party and one guy thought they were chocolate. Yeah... his first bite was a quite a shock.

I don't really know how marbled eggs became such a staple in my British/German household. All the research I have done labels them as a Chinese dish. But I could care less... done properly, they're greatness.

The recipe is quite simple.

Hard-boil the eggs.
Remove from pan.
Crack the egg shells, but DO NOT peel.
Return to pan.
Add soy sauce, salt, and tea bags.
Simmer for 1/2 hour.
Peel and refrigerate.
Serve cold.

Here's the result:













Yummers!

My mom's the bomb.

About a week ago my mom called to say that we would be having beans for Thanksgiving. Now I know times are tight... but, beans?

Beans.

Don't get me wrong. My mom makes a mean pot of beans. They cook all day with garlic and ham hock, then we eat them with fresh onion (well, my dad and me anyway) and cornbread with so much sugar it's more like corncake. But still. It's Thanksgiving, and Carolyn wants turkey and dressing. And leftovers.

Well I give thanks today because Momma Nelson came to her senses and cooked a FEAST for the four of us. Turkey, dressing, gravy, broccoli with hollandaise sauce, marbled eggs (more on that later), candied yams, and two pies: pumpkin (of course) and pecan (southern staple). Plus, my father searched far-and-wide for fresh cranberries (Sam's) and made his famous relish... it's good enough to eat alone and sends that canned jelly crap running. It was a good day.

See, my grandparents are no longer living, and most of our extended family is out of state. The few who are still in the area are, unfortunately, not available to us for one reason or another. My immediate family is rarely all together, and when we are, we rarely get along. But we did yesterday. Props to you mom.

And to prove that things never change:

3801 songs, 41.1 days, 10.75 GB

This morning I decided to sync my iPod, and that's always a battle.

Here's a word problem for you kiddos:

Ms. Nelson has an out-of-date iPod that only holds 6 GB of music. Currently, Ms. Nelson has a collection of 3801 songs, totalling 10.75 GB, on her computer. After filling her iPod, how many GBs of music will remain? (Hint: Classical isn't going to make it.)

You think that would make it on TAKS?

Anyway, while choosing which Fleetwood Mac album was going to get the cut (Tusk?) I realized iTunes' automated genres are really messed up. Since when is Willy Nelson considered "Pop"? And why is half my collection labeled "Rock"? Neil Diamond and The Rolling Stones in the same broad category?

OCD says this is going to take longer than planned.

I'm too old for this.

It pains me to write that sentence. Literally... does anyone have Aleve?

What is it about the Holidays that turns 30 year-old Carolyn into 19 year-old Carolyn? (Uh, I mean 21 year-old Carolyn... yeah, 21...)

The Holidays should be about reflection, giving thanks, worship, and fellowship. So how come EVERY YEAR I turn them into a month-long toga party? And it's not just me. Oh no- we ALL do this (again, you know who you are.)

After my long week, I was really looking forward to a friend's birthday party on Friday. The plan was to stay for a few hours - tops - since I had a PPR exam review the next morning at 8:30. (I got your professional responsibilities right.here.) So when did I get home? 2 am. Brilliant.

Saturday night rolls around, and who are we kidding? Like I'm gonna miss the TT/OU game. But instead of watching it on my couch and getting to bed at a decent hour, I thought a bar on Greenville would be better suited... and then a bar on Gaston... and then the parking lot. what.the.hell? No worries, I was in bed by 4 am, just in time to catch 2 hours sleep before church at 7:30.

At this point I can't feel my legs... but I manage to sing with both the choir and the praise team. Yes, that's both services. That's a total of 4.5 hours at church. Sorry for nodding off during the sermon, Pastor Ken; I assure you it's nothing personal.

And it's not like I could just crash when I got home. Not when the Cowboys played (won) at noon.

Thankfully, plans were changed last night and I was able to stay home and recuperate. So what if I stayed up blogging until 2? I was at home. And there may have been Ben Gay and a heating pad involved, too. Don't judge.

The point of all this is... there was a time when I wouldn't blink at the weekend I just had. Now it's more like whiplash.

NO KITTY! BAD KITTY!

My cats are driving me up the wall. Yep, I'm blogging about my cats. I'm the crazy cat lady blogger. Get over it.

For those of you who don't know me or who have never been to my apartment because your cat allergy is so severe you would scratch your eyes out (you know who you are), let me introduce you to CJ and Razzle. They get along really well. Razzle is the obese tabby and the bane of my existence. CJ is the crippled orange tabby and the bane of my existence.

If you think I am exaggerating, let me give you some examples of how my life may be different than some of yours solely because I own cats.

I have to tape down the switch to my garbage disposal.
That's right. Last year I was sitting in my living room when I was startled by the sound of my garbage disposal going off. It took me a second to figure out what the sound was, then another couple of seconds to realize how it came on. It's a good thing three seconds wasn't long enough to burn up the motor or for Idiot Orange to lose a tail.

I can't leave anything on any surface in my apartment lower than 6 feet. Period.
I mean, I could, but doing so puts said object in risk of being pushed off and broken, laid on, scratched, licked, eaten... or all of the above. I've lost term papers and irreplaceable Slovak crystal this way, along with a myriad of meals and drinks.

I can't stay in bed past 7:00 am. Ever.
I have a feline alarm clock. This might come as a shock to you, but Razzle doesn't miss a meal. She gets fed twice a day, usually around 7 am and 7 pm. If it's too much later than 7 am and Razzle doesn't have food in her bowl, she will not stop meowing until I get up. And I understand- she's a lot like her momma in that sense. The difference is, given the option, most times momma would prefer to sleep off that hangover rather than eat breakfast.

Basically, I live with two toddlers that will never go up.

Even with these the annoyances, I obviously love my kitties. I would probably rescue every stray cat I saw if I could. But I've had a total of 7 hours sleep this weekend (more on that later), and if I have to tell them to stop fighting one more time...

Tales of a Third Grade Subbing

Chapter 1. Give me Specials or give me death.
There is a magical time (hopefully in the morning around 10:30 am, if you're lucky) that all the students leave the classroom and travel to the wonderful land of "Specials"... a land of P.E. and/or Art and/or Music. During this time (usually 45 mins) the classroom teacher has "quiet time" to herself where she can relax and rejuvenate (or frantically pull together lesson plans, tidy up the room, grab coffee, and pee.) I would like to credit Specials as the only reason I did not have a straight-out, flopping-on-the-floor freak-out this week.

Chapter 2. Pickle
During lunch on Wednesday I was sitting at the "teacher table" when a student approached the teacher next to me.

"Mrs. G, Sarah is saying a word that I don't like over and over again. I've asked her to stop, but she keeps on saying it."
"What's the word? It's ok, honey, you can tell me."
"Pickle."

You should have seen the look on Mrs. G's face. It was a mix of, "Really?!?" and "You have to be s****ing me." Her response?

"Go sit down."

That student got off easy. Had it been me, the conversation would have gone like this:

"Ms. Nelson, Sarah is saying a word that I don't like over and over again. I've asked her to stop, but she keeps on saying it."
"What's the word? It's ok, honey, you can tell me."
"Pickle."
"I can't believe she said that! Go sit pickle. I'll be over there in a pickle to take care of it. Thank you for being pickle. Pickle."

Chapter 3. "It tasted like fish."
During the same lunch I took off the bun to my sandwich to add ketchup, lettuce, tomato, and PICKLE. I thought the breading looked kind of odd, plus the chicken looked a little pink... but I dismissed it because let's be honest- cafeteria meat never looks like real meat.
Well, during recess I started to feel sick. Like, mouth-watering, I'm-about-to-vomit sick. I asked the other teacher if she noticed anything wrong with the chicken at lunch. She agreed about the breading and called her daughter, who also ate the sandwich, over.

"Honey, do you remember anything odd about the chicken sandwich at lunch today?"
"Yeah... I thought it tasted like fish."
[laughing] "Oh, is that why you didn't eat it all?"

Because salmonella is hilarious.

Chapter 4. Natural Gas
Do I even have to explain the 3rd grade mind with this one? In Science I hear:

"Natural gas."
[farting sound]
"There's nothing natural about that."

Chapter 5. "YOU'RE renewable!"
By far my favorite cut-down of the week, if not year. Same Science class. We've made it past "natural gas" and are now discussing bauxite. For those of you who have slept since 3rd grade Science (me), bauxite is an aluminum ore and considered a non-renewable resource. Well, since aluminum can be recycled, categorizing bauxite confused some students... so much that they decided to argue about it.

"Is bauxite renewable, non-renewable, or inexhaustible?"
"Renewable. You can recycle aluminum cans."
"But the book says it can't renew itself in a lifetime..."
"You can recycle it! It's RENEWABLE!"
"YOU'RE renewable!".

I waited to hear, "Your mom's renewable," but alas; it never came.

Epilogue
I don't know how you do it, K-4 teachers. Really, I don't. Two days in a 3rd grade classroom and I'm ready for an entire week off. Good thing that's exactly what's happening next week, huh? :)