New School

Sorry I haven't been posting on this blog lately. I have been really busy with the beginning of school. I have several different classes to prepare for this year, and that has kept me extra busy.

Here is my current school schedule:
(Brought to you through Google Docs & Spreadsheets)


I have also been working on a school blog. It isn't official yet, but I am getting it up and running anyway. Click here to see it. I just put up a slide show of the first chapel's power point presentation. There are also links on that blog for the school's main site if you care to see it.

I have tons more that I would love to share, but I just don't have the time to do it. Bye for now.

35

I don't usually direct people to blogs just about me, but my wife just wrote a brilliant post that was... well... just about me!

It was my birthday today, and if you would like to see some embarrassing pictures of me and see how much I have changed over the years, then swing by her blog.

Click Here

The SC

I found this video on this blog and being from South Carolina and having spent some time as a teacher in the South Carolina educational system, I knew I had to share this with someone else.

Enjoy.

The Ash Tree

Under the Ash Tree
On a warm summer's day.
My children love to run there,
To laugh and to play.

They love it there,
In the ash tree's shade.
Its a wonderful place,
For their plans to be made.

Brilliant big plans
That boys like to make,
With silly games and battles
And maybe some cake.

And under the ash three,
It all comes to pass.
In bigger plans than they see,
Plans that will last.

Plans of kindness in battles,
And goodness in games,
There is love in their cake...
and ever
so gently,
They carve in their names.

So Under the Ash Tree
On this warm summer's day
I wish my children could be there
To laugh and to play.

bloody heck

I went to work last night at the church. Thursday night is office cleaning night, so I hit that first and wrapped it up pretty quickly. In one of the back rooms they where hosting a blood drive, so I was kinda waiting for that to get over so I could mop afterwards. I was on my way to work on one of the other projects on my to do list, just to pass the time, when one of the nurses invited me back to have a cookie. I can't resist a cookie invitation, so I figured I would at least go back and see what they had.

I walked back to the room they were using, and while I was browsing through the cookies I overheard the guy in charge talking about how many people hadn't shown up. They figured that they would show up before the end, but they were getting a little worried. So, being the guy that I am I volunteered right then and there to donate some of my blood.

I had toyed around with the idea a little bit in my head, but didn't really want to do it because of my dread of the needle. I absolutely fear needles, just ask my mom, but the older I get, the more I like to face my fears whenever possible. So I signed up, went through the questionnaire, then sat down in one of those fancy lawn chairs.

My nurse was really nice, and found my vein without any trouble. And even though she used an abnormally large needle, she must have been out of the regular ones, I didn't even flinch when she plunged it into the depths of my arm. I was feeling pretty good about myself as I clenched and unclenched my fist. The large quantities of blood were flowing steadily through that tube and down to the bag at the bottom. I watched that bag of blood rock back and forth, back and forth, keeping it from coagulating. Back and forth, back and forth it rocked. Wow, that looks like a lot of blood coming out of my body. I wonder how much blood a person can have taken out of their body.

I asked the nurse that, but I can't remember what she said.

I was feeling pretty good. Tired, but good as the blood kept filling my donation bag. In fact, I was feeling a little too good. The room seemed a little fuzzy and people started sounding a little like Charlie Brown's teacher. My nurse looked over at me and asked if I was OK. "Fine, good..." I tell her, then she walks away to check on one of the other donors.

A few moments later I start to feel a little light-headed. Not too much, just a little. I lay back and try to focus on the ceiling, instead of my bag of blood. There's no way that I am going to be that guy that has trouble giving blood. Just not gonna happen.

But then it starts to get worse. I started feeling a little fluttery in my chest, like I was trying to convince my heart that, "...no they are not taking too much blood. You're feeling ok. Just keep beating." My heart seemed like it was wavering a little in its trust in me. The air in the room started getting even thicker than it already was, so I finally swallowed my pride, and said, "ma'am... um... I am feeling a little light headed."

Next thing I remember, I am in the midst of the most vivid dream. I know it was vivid, but I couldn't tell you a thing that happened in that dream. What I do remember is looking up and having every nurse in the room around my bed, and for at least four seconds, I had no idea where I was and no clue why these people were staring at me. Then it came flooding back to me: church... offices... cookies... blood... oh yeah...

crap.

"Did I just pass out?"

Nurse reply: "Um, yeah. You could say that."

I guess that not only did I completely lose consciousness, I also seized up. The nurse told me later that she couldn't uncurl my arms to get the needle out. She had called everyone over just because of that. They even had to break the stuff under my nose just to wake me up. I can still remember that burning in my nose as I was exiting that vivid dream.

But the story isn't over yet. Oh no.

Right after I was revived, I started to feel a little nauseous. Thinking that I just needed something to eat I asked for some crackers. I thought that was going to help for a few moments, but then about halfway through the second cracker, I started having trouble chewing it up. The cracker was getting thicker in my mouth as every moment passed. No, no, this isn't happening. I am not going to be the guy who gets sick while donating blood!

I kept fighting it and kept fighting it, but it was getting more and more intense. The urge to hurl was almost all the way up to the back of my throat when I finally caved in and said something to my nurse. "Ma'am. I am not feeling so well."

"Your Stomach?" She says. "Good, if you get that up, you will feel much better. Let me get you a bag."

"A bag? Umm. I think I will be OK. I think it is passing already."

"Well here, why don't you hold this bag, just to make sure. It is really ok. We are all used to this happening."

hmm... "Well, I am not exactly used to puking in front of people. I don't know if I am ok with this. Do you mind if I just walk down to the bathroom real quick?"

"No. I am sorry, but we can't let you leave until your vitals get back up to normal."

Vitals!?! Did she say vitals?! "Alright, let me hold the bag. I probably won't..."

Then it happened. As discretely as possible, from my little donation bed I hurled out of the corner of my mouth. Not once, mind you, four times. Me trying to act like I hadn't just done that between each of the regurgitations. Then I had to pass the bag off and have one of the nurses say in her sweetest, most nursy voice, "You all done now? You feeling better? Here's a little wet paper towel for ya.. There now." And each of my responses was a whimpering, "mm...hmm..."

It is really hard to act tough when you just passed out, upchucked, and now a nurse is patting your head.

After all of that happened, I found out that I didn't even donate enough blood for them to keep. But they did give me two t-shirts and I got an extra cookie.

heated inelegance

It has been so hot lately. It looks like the end of the month is going to be a little cooler than the last couple of weeks. Which is a good thing because my wife has managed to make it through another summer in a van without air conditioning.

I was looking for another quote when I ran across this one. It reminded me of my wife (and some of her friends) so much, I just had to put it on my blog.




"What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance."
~Jane Austen

I am telling you, my wife was born in the wrong era and in the wrong class. She and Jane would have been good friends.

Birthday Wishing

Just in case you were having trouble deciding what to do with that extra little bit of money that you have stored up, I thought that I would list just a couple of things that have struck my fancy lately.


Here is the first one, the one in the middle. Do you see that yellow ladder. I think that would look really nice in my garage. When you are doing home improvement, it always helps to have a ladder.

If you are swinging through a Wal-Mart, you might see this... think of me.


Ah. Number two idea.

I first saw one of these over at my brother-in-law's house. It was love at first sight. Some might say that I have plenty of toolboxes, but I still have more tools than tool boxes. This one is nice too because it can roll around the house.

What can I say, I was strolling around the store doing a little poor-man dreaming.




Now, this one just solidifies the poor-man title... the infamous 107 piece tool set. Most of the real men out there try to avoid these tool sets. They usually end up in some rich guy's house who has no idea how to use tools, but their kids decided that daddy needed some tools, or it is in the cabinet of a I-can-do-it-myself-without-the-help-of-some-man kind of lady.

I don't care though, this particular tool box comes in especially handy for a mover. I had one that was a little smaller than this one, but I lost it on my last day as a mover this summer. Very depressing.


This last one would come in extremely useful as I am becoming more and more known for my moving abilities. This strap set would look really nice hauling around things on the back of my Chevy Pickup Truck.






Well, just four ideas for you to consider. My birthday is coming up just around the corner (on the 27th in case you didn't know), and I was just doing some wishful thinking.