It's beginning to look a lot like...

Memories are great. When I write them down I learn something different about myself than what I had intended on expressing.

About two months ago I started writing down some memories in a memoir fashion. I like memoirs and I appreciate their lessons. Read more on my other blog by clicking here.

But what's really on my mind this morning is Christmas. I know I'm not supposed to be thinking of red and green before the turkey and gravy are served up, but I am. I can feel it in the air--I mean, we rarely have nights that touch low into the 30s and possible 20s, so maybe that's why.

I think this year Christmas will be filled with magic and wonder for me as I view it through the eyes of the Doodle.

Now... All I have to do is get through the giant stacks of grading and I bet Christmas will be here...


"Let Christmas come tomorrow
Not just Christmas Day
Have good will in September
And peace on Earth in May..."

Huzzah!

I have been working with the local Reading Association for the past year and a half as their "Authors' Chair". My job is to promote our yearly author dinner and bring authors to the event... Last year it felt like pulling teeth to get authors to come. Strike that, it was like extracting wisdom teeth from a crocodile.

Needless to say, it was the most difficult part of the journey. In the end, however, the authors came and we had a great event.

This year I thought I would start early and e-mail the authors in November--after all, the event in March and I was sure to get a slew of rejections. But low and behold my in-box runneth over. That's right, the first 4 authors I contacted responded with big fat yeses!

 I now have 4 authors set and am as happy as a clam.

Woot woot for early plans!

:-)

Huzzah!

Ad

Here is an ad for the event I am helping out with...

Anna Wintour and Such...

Blogging is back in style and I am always in vogue... That means the Shaws have the Internet and I am back to this and my other blog. I am happy to bring you back up to speed with the musing and adventures of my life.

(click the link above and check out my writing progress)

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

Working is exhausting. I love it, but I work my butt off at times.

I love the world of English, but this year I feel extra tired when it comes to getting ready. I feel the urgency of their needs and hope to meet them all.

In contrast...

I have been sleeping like a mad-man on the weekends. Each weekday I sleep for 8 hours, 7 if I am naughty and watch too many episodes of Gilmore Girls. I get much more than the average bloke, but I'd like more...

On the weekends I have been clocking in 9, 10, and last weekend 11 hours per night. Love it.

My favorite moment is waking up to the foggy Santa Maria mornings. The brown curtains protect the little bits of light that try to sneak in the room and I roll over and smile as I realize my phone, alarm clock and anything to do with the weekend are turned off.

Love it.

Weekends are great. Add a day to the weekend and I'll call it glorious.

Room 9

I love the start of school.

I really love seeing the apprehensive faces of the students as they walk in my room.

The 9 on the door greets them, reminding them they are new here, 9th graders. Nothing more than the youngest kids in the big pool of high school. The lowest on the totem pole. The bottom of the... Well, you get the idea.

They step into the room, backpacks full of clean sheets of paper and untouched BIC pens. They settle into their chairs and feel the cold composite material on their backs.

Their eyes glance around the room, looking for something familiar. But this is the first week of school. The walls are bare and sterile. 

Their eyebrows knit together and seem to call out, "Is this one of those teachers who makes us read long books?"

They fumble with their zippers on their backpacks and retrieve a blank piece of paper, wondering, "Will he make me write a lot?"

As they uncap the BIC pens, they let the pen touch the paper and whisper to themselves, "Will I have to learn a bunch of new words? The kind of words that don't make any sense to me?"

I smile down at the students, crack a joke, but the students remain silent. They uncomfortably look around the room, wondering if they are permitted to chuckle, laugh or even giggle in the Temple that is 9th Grade English.

Role is called and the students sheepishly call out, "Here!" when I butcher their names. But then, in the crowd, as I make a lame joke about the missing student on the list and his apparent painful, and torturous demise, I see it. A smile. The student lets his shoulders relax and he spots it. The faint curl of a grin at the edges of my mouth. He knows. And then it spreads. Like a cupcake sale in front of Jenny Craig, the students begin to figure out who I am. And I they.

And that's how the year starts.

Turning it in...

I will be laptopless for 24 hours, maybe even 96 hours. This scares me and makes me worried about my future.  Oh well, outside I will go.

Dreams...

For those of you who keep forgetting to look up my other blog, I just posted about a very intense dream I had last night. Check it out:

www.michael-shaw.blogspot.com

Weeds and thorns no more...

We have been working in the backyard for the past week. Prior to that, Westly and would water the lawn with a hose--he absolutely loved it. Every day for three weeks, the little Doodle and I would water it for about 10 minutes with the hose. He would laugh and splash in it and I would run around pulling weeds and telling him the dog next door was coming.

Fast forward three weeks to today:

Thanks to our friends, Kevin and Rebecca, we now have a new concrete patio where we can finally set out our table and chairs. They put us in contact with a guy who took on Phase 1 on our plans (Extending the fence and laying concrete). The last part of Phase 1 was getting our patio furniture from the abyss known as our garage. Phase 1... COMPLETE!

Phase 2 involves working on the planters, making a mini-sand box in a corner, getting a small slide, and re-seeding the yard. I am proud to say I started Phase 2 this morning by seeding just before the sprinkles started to pour down on my efforts (I'll stay positive by noting the seeds will be well watered thanks to God's humorous timing).

Phase 3 involves getting a little kiddy pool where we can store balls for West to kick and throw. In addition, I'd like to make a checkerboard a la Kaleb Baker. He made me one a few years back, and I'd like to have one in our yard for when guests come over.

Needless to say, I am excited.

Here's to giving Westly a place to play (and hopefully his Mama a break).

Pictures coming soon...

Olympic Fever

 I have Olympic Fever today!

I am remembering all the great things London and the Olympics have done for my life, and I am a happy guy. Above is the cardboard cut-out I made a year ago for Multicultural Day at school. Students took photos with it and enjoyed the beauty that is Kate. But that is in the past, so here are today's decorations:

 Yup, you are seeing correctly. A piggy bank shaped like a red-phone booth, complete with British currency. Next is the Queen, a solar-powered hand-waving lass. Next to it is the Brit-Red Tea holder with a working model of Elizabeth Tower (you probably mistakenly have been calling it Big Ben, but you're wrong). Then comes the "This is London" children's book we use to indoctrinate Westly with all things British. And finally, at the front is the beautiful double-decker that Westly plays with. All of these items are displayed above the TV to enhance our viewing pleasure.

Here is Westly in front of our new drapes. Well... They will only last for two weeks, but still.

Here is our viewing schedule, thanks to EW.

Here is the Sherlock Holmes wreath Suz made for Fauf. It normally hangs in another room, but for the Olympics I have moved it to the family room.

So there it is! Bring on the goat and all good things British this week!

More Dreams

I had another weird dream.

I was teaching at my high school and suddenly the administration decided I could teach a preschool through 10th grade Honors class. I had two preschoolers, about five K-2 kids, then 20 high school students. It was the first day of school and we all gathered round to hear about the schedule. The first class was, I think, my 10th grade Honors class--of course there were two preschoolers in this class.

I wasn't ready for the additional two kidos, but I went with it because I know better than to argue against an income. So the morning started and I said "crap" or something like that and the little kids started to cry because they thought their teacher was cussing. I rolled my eyes and gave them play dough and told them to make a sculpture of whatever we were doing.

I then yelled at half of the class because they didn't do their Summer Reading homework. I sent about three of them to the office to transfer out of the class. Suddenly a kid named Adam shouted, "A twister!"

I look out the window, which my white board had now magically transformed into, and I saw a giant black twister whipping through the campus. I shouted for the kids to evacuate, but I had no clue what to do. I didn't know if they should run outside, hide under the desks, or what. I told them all to stand really still like an arrow. In my mind this was the best way to stay safe, so long as you hadn't gained too much weight, the tornado would zip by you without any trouble.

Well, eventually I lost control on the class and they all ran outside to see their friends who had evacuated. Soon, my class was gone and I was now wrangling up about 50-60 kids on the lawns. The administration came by and told me how happy they were that I took on the extra preschoolers and elementary school kids. They said I would be featured in a teacher journal or newspaper.

After that I think I was handed the keys to the bus and was told to take the kids home.

I'm not sure, but I think this dream means I am worried I will have too much work in the fall. Just a guess.

Doofus.

I still don't know if this is a telescope, megaphone, or a bottle of something. Either way, this guy is a doofus.

Curious

I tried to recreate a character from Curious George... It is OK, but his chin got a little Drazin-ish. Still learning...

Grandpa at the Movies

And the Facebook Caption Winner goes to:

(I'll post on here once I pick a winner!)

Random Kid

Still learning how to use my e-Doodler...

06-24-04

Happy 8th Birthday to my blog... I missed its June 24th blog-day birthday, so I will wish it a happy one on my anniversary instead.

07-07-07

Five years ago.

Wow.

I can't believe I have been married to the girl of my dreams for 5 years.

It has been really cool to watch her develop and grow over the years. As a wife, artist, author, teacher, mother and home-maker... So great.

Five years ago I remember folding napkins on the ivory tablecloths. I remember meeting her in the orange grove. I remember praying for our futures. I remember the violin music playing as she walked down the aisle. I remember hearing "Boot Scootin' Boogie" from the "Cowboy Hats and Butterflies" wedding that was going on at the place next door. I remember carrying around a cardboard cut-out of one of my groomsmen. I remember our first dance. I remember our Thriller dance. I remember the smell of the coffee beans on the tables and the people in the barn. I remember walking across the bridge to Sycamore. So many memories... Some of them have probably already faded... But...

Most of all I remember the excitement and love I had for my wife... It isn't hard to remember that part of it... 'Cause I've still got it for her!

Hooray for love.

Dreams

Last night I was tossing and turning. I had a weird dream. A stressful dream:

 I was cast in a murder mystery by Mz Jean Byrne who made me play Maggie Smith from Downton Abby. My favorite character from the show, who reminds me of my mom (though Maggie hasn't had as much botox).

I told Mz Bryne I was a man with a beard so I wasn't the right person for the part. She assured me I was right for it since she casts people based on their ability to become a part. She also added, "Women of a certain age have beards too."

But somewhere in the middle of the two week rehearsals, I took ill. I had to ride my bike through UCSB to get home, which was exhausting. Somewhere in the middle of it I saw a giant dinosaur model/skeleton. But in the end, I got home.

I got home and went to bed early in the evening... Maybe 7, 8 or 9. Then the next day I wake up and it is the day of the play. I had slept a long time. It was 1 pm and the play started at noon.

I race over to Telephone Road where the play is being housed. I find out they still want me to do my part--I am told all this by Cindy Giorgi who has a part as a southern belle. I argue with the group that I'm not confident, I don't know the part. But they say I can do it.

So I agree to do the part. I read through the play... Well, I skim it, and discover my lines are fewer than I thought. But I keep forgetting to mark my lines.

Suddenly, Mz Byrne's stage hand comes calling for me.

This is it.

I walk up the stairs, only to discover we are looking out on a lake. There are 8 people in the room. All of them senior citizens ages 80 and up.

I stare at the room and Mz Byrne says, "What did you think of the murder? Was the man violent to you? Did he beat you?"

I look at her and say, "Preposterous!" with a spitting emphasis on the P's and S's.

She smiles and sits down and lets me do my thing as on old man laughs finally realizing I am a man dressed as an old woman. I wobble around the room, mimicking the walk I had seen in "The Rivals" at PCPA.

I continue on, "Preposterous! He didn't beat me. I beat him with my cane." Lots of laughter. "But he was violent. It's preposterous to think he wouldn't be. You saw him."

I look out the large window behind me, the lake sparkles as the sun starts to set.

I ramble on about Americans and their stupidity and Mz Byrne interviews me in front of the group, then sends me on my way.

I waddle down the stairs and am greeted by laughter from the other actors. Farah shakes her head at me and says, "See. He does this all the time. I knew he'd pull it together. He goes from deathly ill to the star of the show."

I run over, cane still in hand, and give her a kiss. She smiles. Perhaps she's never kissed an old British woman.

Door-to-Door

I am working on a campaign for SLOCRA (the local reading association) to put on their yearly (well, this is the second year they've done it) Membership Drive. In years past I'm not sure much came of the drive, but this year I am in charge of it and I want it to be as good as it can be.

My mind starts to fill up with ideas on how to do this. And yesterday my feet were on the move.

I visited 42 businesses here in my hometown city asking for donations. It was odd to me how some were excited and ready to give while others questioned me. Some said they needed to check with the other managers but they were going to certainly give something and some just looked at me and said things like, "See's Candy doesn't donate." What kind of a statement is that? They had their reasons (they do school fundraisers in store ONLY), but still.

Needless to say, if my wife is right about me, I will be consumed with this concept for awhile. Such is life.

:-)

4th

This is a great time of year.

I love the 4th of July...

Flags flying...

Fireworks crashing...

Hotdogs cooking...

Hooray for Independence (though, I would like to live in England)...