I'll Be Home For Christmas!

I love coming home. This trip has been like therapy. I just needed to be home and surrounded by people I love... and the last three days have been nothing but that! Here are some pictures from Sunday: Family Christmas party at Aunt Betsy's, Monday: big Christmas Eve dinner (with all the trimmings) at home, and Tuesday: Christmas morning presents and then the afternoon at the Grandparents' houses...


Top: Sara, Brett, Bottom: Grandpa Snowball, Blake, Tasha and Brayden, and me (at Aunt Betsy's)


Mom and Sara at the Christmas Eve table as we were setting it. I LOVE our fancy dinner by candlelight.


Dad and I gearing up for the Christmas Eve program (favorite Christmas stories, classic Snowball songs and they Christmas hymns, Luke 2, Sees, and upstairs)


Surprise!! I had NO IDEA I was getting a sewing machine! I already have a slew of projects up my sleeve...


Paige and I after opening presents.


Everyone at Grandma and Grandpa Torgerson's. Aren't we a handsome bunch?


Grandma T, me, and Paige.


Sara is the little charmer and got Brayden (miraculously) to sleep. Paige and I (can you tell which is which?) came to give her some redhead lovin'


I just wanted to give a glimpse of the chaos at Grandma S's with all of us there. I think the count was 35 this year!

PS. I am sure this isn't the end of my Christmas-picture-postings... I have so many more good ones! Isn't Christmas the best??

"Seeing"

This term we have read a lot of transcendental nature writing, so my first question on my 11th grade final asked students to read the following passage from Annie Dillard's essay "Seeing," and explain the metaphor of the "tree with the lights in it." I have gotten such a WIDE range of responses I would like to see what you think.

“When her doctor took her bandages off and led her into the garden, the girl who was no longer blind saw ‘the tree with the lights in it.’ It was for this tree I searched through the peach orchard of summer, in the forest of fall and down winter and spring for years. Then one day I was walking along Tinker Creek thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with the lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing than like being for the first time seen, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I’m still spending the power. Gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells unflamed and disappeared. I was still ringing. I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until that moment I was lifted and struck. I have since only very rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam.”

1. What on earth is she talking about?

Don't worry, I won't mark you down for a wrong answer :)

Grading papers

is very uphill work.

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

Sunday morning snow-shine! Isn't it beautiful?

I only put this one in to show the treacherous water meter that attacked my car radiator. Can you believe my car was low enough to be damaged by that?

My favorite is the motorcycle! The dogs (in the fence) haven't been barking as much with the snow keeping them indoors--happy for them!

And the playground behind my house--I love the pink light in the trees. I spy San Juan High, do you?

I LOVE SNOW! I really really do. There is just something magical about it. Saturday it started, and I was able to spend all day inside: watching it float on down, grading papers, reading poetry, falling asleep on the couch. Sunday it continued (the pictures show what I woke up to) and today, it just kept on coming! These are from my front kitchen window and my balcony windows. I am surrounded!

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree...

To one and all:
Life around here is hectic but good! I just can't seem to get enough sleep! And I just don't want to grade papers. I think I am as bad as my students (who don't want to write them!). I spent all weekend making gingerbread ornaments (my house still smells wonderfully of cinnamon and applesauce) and today (don't listen with your environmental ears and please forgive me) I got a Christmas tree! I LOVE LOVE LOVE the smell of real trees in my house at Christmas time. Heres the story of how I came to possess it:


In a small town like Blanding there are two ways to get a tree: 1. purchase a plastic one, 2. cut one down. Even if you go to someone's yard-sale mini tree mart, it is still of the "cut down" variety. You can imagine my horror at this discovery--remembering that I grew up in suburbia where Christmas trees are grown in "Christmas Tree Farms" and conveniently placed in every parking lot for miles around, starting right after Thanksgiving. I was, last week, in third period mentioning my deep sadness at the Blanding tree-predicament when two of my students very excitedly volunteered to "get" me a tree! Although I know there are not enough trees on this side of the state to cut any down, I couldn't bear to quell their excitment... especially since it was my only hope of getting a real tree this year (there is no way I would EVER cut my own). So, tonight, they brought me the most fantasticly lob-sided, fat, and squat, little Blue Mountain tree that I ever did see! I immediately put that sucker in a tree stand and have been tying my dozens of red bows to it since! I now have a beautiful little Christmas tree... and not a paper graded! The three guys who brought it over were a hoot--they first brought me a sad little dying stick with dead leaves hanging all over it... laughing hysterically. Next came a rather small little branch... and finally my darling little tree. I think it was more than worth the dozen or so molasses cookies that I paid them with. Please don't hate me forever for loving this pagan tradition! ps: please excuse the poor photography (number one) and the trailing lights in this picture (number two). I have an extension cord in my classroom I will bring home tomorrow!

Modestly Yours

For those who haven't yet checked it out, there is a great blog titled "Modestly Yours" (see my links to the right) that advocates modesty, family, and abstinence, organized by Wendy Shalit (author of Girls Gone Mild--a book I haven't yet read, but hope to soon!). The latest posting is of a news report on abstinence that I thought was well done. Check it out!

Tag... I'm it!

After much internal struggle to not give in to the tagging war... here goes:

Jobs I've had:
High School English teacher (11th, 12th grade, AP)
MTC teacher (English, Welfare, ESL, RC, TEC)
Freshman Academy Peer Mentor
Sees Candy (sample giver, box packer, smilier)

Places I've Lived:
Westminster, California
Provo, Utah
Honduras (Jesus de Otoro, Talanga, Catacamas, Loarque)
Blanding, Utah

Favorite TV Shows:
I don't own a TV...
But for my list of favorite books, look to the right!

Favorite Food:
peas (sometimes with spaghetti sauce--don't get grossed out!)
raisins (mmmm...)
Albertson's Southwest Salsa (with wheat thins, triscuits, saltines, chips, peas)
current addiction: popcorn (the 98% fat free kind, just a few seconds too long in the microwave)

Places I'd Rather be:
Home
Tasha's
Sara's
Honduras
Reading a book

Places I'd like to visit:
Home (anywhere with family!)
VIRGINIA (where I have always wanted to--and someday will--live)
Honduras (of course)
Africa (it seems so filled with fascinating people)
India (I don't know why, but really, I do)
Norway (to understand my roots; although, I am from six different European countries; perhaps I choose Norway because it's where my last name comes from)

I tag:
no one!

Back at it!

Horray for home! I loved, loved, loved being home for Thanksgiving. I think it is my favorite holiday--because it always includes family and is a little less stressful. Don't get me wrong, I love the stress of Christmas too... anyhow, I think you know what I mean! It went too fast this year, however. Doesn't it always? I loved seeing Tasha and the boys, I loved slumber parties with Paige, sleeping in, all day at Aunt Chris', good books, Christmas shopping, sleeping in, walking with Mom. I love going home.

Somehow, however, I am back in Blanding! I was texting Paige earlier tonight and she said she thinks she is going to be on a homework frenzy until Christmas. I texted back that I am on a grading frenzy until then! I don't know how I am going to catch up! We are back in full swing around here... starting Act IV of Hamlet (today we performed scenes), finishing up Transcendentalism and gearing up for Huck Finn, and working on literary analysis in AP Lang and Comp. Time flies when you are having fun :). I am actually looking forward to the next four weeks. At the end is Christmas (whoo hoo!) and end of term (half way mark!). I am hoping to do some really fun things in the meantime. Not to mention basketball season starting :). I am posting some more pictures Nick took when he was here. They, of course, are of my classroom. It is sort of a sad little room (lacking in decor and windows) but I call it home. Have I mentioned that I love teaching English yet? I do. I love these kids. They are so good. I went to the first home boys bb game tonight. I love seeing them in their element (not always an English classroom, so sad). They have so much personality and life. I feel privileged to be here with them in this grand adventure of living!

Ok, well, I am rambling and putting off lesson planning... so away I go!! Cheers.

Home Sweet Home

Well, I had a good friend here about a week ago... and he took some fun pictures with his digital camara, so I finally get to post pictures of where I live!!

This is my little living room (and my Oranges in Oil painting by Nick Stephens) The light coming in is from the French doors and not-quite-done balcony

My favorite place to read (right across from the couch)...

My cute red kitchen with the morning light streaming in...

My big red bed (and another Nick painting)

"I become a transparent eyeball..."

Horray for transcendentalism! I don't mean to make this blog a travelogue of my teaching adventures, but I just can't help it, as they seems to consume my life! This week we started the fantastic transcendentalists... Emerson, Thoreau, Fuller, Alcott. Does it get any better? I just love the nature writers; they are so inspiring! I think my students officially think I am crazy. After reading aloud Chapter 1 of Nature by Emerson, I had one student come in after school and tell me I should be a drama teacher. I guess my out-loud reading skills are just that good. They seem to be enjoying it (perhaps not as much as I do, but hey, every bit counts!). I rarely give homework, but told them their assignment this weekend is to go out into nature for at least an hour: take a pen and some paper and observe. I got a few astonished looks at that one, but not too many complaints. I am hoping for some original nature writing and transcendent experiences--Annie Dillard style. If nothing else, it gives me an excuse to take an hour or two myself and go see some of the natural wonders of southern Utah this weekend. And, it has also given me an excuse to start reading Little Women again. I tell you what, life is good!

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and to see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
--Henry David Thoreau, Walden Pond

Digestion

I have been waxing poetic of late. Here is a fun one...

I like to swallow books whole.
One gulp.
If they take too much chewing,
I spit them out until I have
Time to devour them.
Once swallowed, I let them
Rumble around a bit,
Settling and digesting and absorbing.
Then I go back.
I chew slow, deliberate mouthfuls.
The words unravel to reveal
A masterpiece,
Slowly responding to the
Humanity
In us all—the very magnificent
And mundane
That make us morals.
The words dangle, ready
To be plucked delicately and
Appreciated for the indulgences they are.

Too proud or too prejudiced? That is the question

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single [woman] in possession of a [degree], must be in want of a [husband]." --Jane Austin (arguably the greatest female author of all time)

Not only have multiple mothers and grandmothers in town offered to set me up with their young (and supposedly good looking) male relatives, today I was also given offers by some of my students to send their brothers by.

"Is 21 too young for you?" they ask.

"Why," the mother crones, "are you going home for Thanksgiving!? That is when he will be in town..."

Dang.

Ok, ok. Not that I am totally opposed to being set up. Come on, I live (by choice, remember) in a small remote town in southeastern Utah (and am very happy). There just aren't that many options. I only laugh that the old irony of Jane Austin still stands on very solid ground.

Tribute

"Freedom now appeared, to disappear no more forever. It was heard in every sound, and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing, I heard nothing without hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked from every star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm."
--Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave

Douglass was born a slave in Maryland circa 1818. At twelve years old he learned from his master--enraged that he should be taught--that reading would make him "unmanageable, and of no value..." Empowered by the revelation that reading was the key to freedom, Douglass proceeded to to do everything in his power to learn. He converted the homeless and hungry white children into his teachers and bribed them to give him "the bread of knowledge." The result, he laments, was just what his master had predicted. He was given "a view of [his] condition without the remedy." He suddenly saw that he was not chattel nor brute, but a thinking man.

Frederick Douglass eventually escaped to freedom in 1838 and became a powerful abolitionist orator and political activist fighting for the emancipation of slaves.

In my American Literature classes we have been reading Douglass' powerful slave narrative. Today we finally got to the chapter in which he learns--through endless determination--to read. Ironically he narrates his path to literacy with sophisticated diction and rhetorically powerful syntax so that his northern audience could not doubt and intelligence and potential of a mere slave. After reading Douglass' experience learning to read, I had my students write a brief literacy narrative--writing down their first memories with the printed word. So many of them could not remember ever not reading. Some even questioned naively if it was possible to be able to speak and not read or write, so much does reading unconsciously effect us. After writing their own memories, we continued to read as he describes the agony it caused him to learn something and feel powerless to change it. He suddenly saw his potential and capacity but did not have the agency to develop it. Freedom, as the above quote indicates, was tauntingly out of reach.

I wonder, do we see with such clarity? For Douglass, reading was the key to accessing life, liberty, and, of course, the pursuit of happiness. It was what finally gave him the courage to stand up--even as a slave--and demand less punishment, to escape, to speak and write and defend emancipation in an emotionally and politically charged "north" despite the fear of being sent back. Do we see education today as such a power? Or do we go dutifully (or, like some students, not so dutifully) to school and endure the hard chairs and endless teachers simply because it is expected? Do we go to high school or college or whatever because society dictates it... or because the thirst for learning drives us? Like Douglass, do we know that our literacy is the key to our potential? Like Douglass, do we refuse to fit a cookie-cutter mold? Like Douglass, do we persevere despite the odds and insurmountable obstacles, the personal agony of not yet seeing the ladder, the personal cost of enduring in what we know to be true? Do we not simply learn to read, but choose to read?

[deep breath!] Ok, I will descend from my soap box and apologize for the passion with which I write... it is the English teacher in me, what can I say? But, today, as we did in my classes, I would like to hold a tribute to Frederick Douglass.

Happy Halloween!

Hip Hip Horray for a holiday! Today was such a fun Halloween. I admit, I have had more exciting costumes or parties... but I don't think they could beat ghost stories all day long. I decided that I officially like celebrating holidays as a teacher and think it is a shame that more do not. I dug deep into my literary bags and books and pulled out every howling, ghoulish, horror story I could come up with. At the front of my room I made a little display of classic haunts (everything from the creepy wife upstairs in Jane Eyre and the blood-thirsty ghosts of Hamlet to R. L. Stine and the not-so-scary Twilight. We discussed a little of the history of spook and then turned off the lights to be spooked ourselves! I brought in my small desk lamp and let them all gather round (sit on the floor and pull their chairs forward). Then I read four classic campfire stories (the Hook Man, Bloody Mary, The Headless Horseman, and The Golden Arm). In every class I had kids who knew the stories, had said Bloody Mary's name in the bathroom mirror, or had a different version of the same stories to tell. I put on my best "haunted" voice and went to town! Afterward we discussed the elements of campfire stories (ridiculously stupid characters, dark and stormy nights, unusual weapons--anything from knitting needles to hooks--and suspense). Then I let them brainstorm as groups and create their own stories. They were so creative! While I do think Halloween is a holiday for little kids, you've got to admit, we all are a little intrigued by the mystery and haunt of Halloween. Next time you don't know what to do late on Halloween night, pull out your best story-telling voice and turn the lights down low...

Horray for fall!

I love the fall. The air feels cleaner--perhaps because it is colder, I'm not sure. It is as though the world is being transformed by bright hues of yellow, orange, and red. I find myself wanting to take long walks--just as night is falling--so I can breathe in all the deepness of life before winter sets in. Here in Blanding it is a sudden holiday in mid October. Fall means only one thing to true Blanding-ites: hunting. As I walk around town I smell barbecues cooking and see orange hats thrown across dashboards. Four wheelers are mud spattered and my classes are emptier. Everywhere there is the thrill of the hunt. Boys come to school dressed in camo and chatter about the buck they need to go home and gut during lunch. Kids pull jerky out of their backpacks and munch on it as class starts. Many look haggard from getting up at 4:30 a.m. multiple days in a row. And me? I am in awe. I have never experienced anything like it. Hunting season in Blanding has turned life upside down. This is it--the favored time of year. It is better than Christmas, they say. I'll let you know if they are right when I taste the jerky...

yikes!

I officially lose at updating this blog! I am sorry. AND, my digital camera is refusing to turn on... so sad to say there are no new pictures. Someday... In the meantime, life is moving right along in Blanding. The first term ends next Thurday (whew!!) and football season is about over too (whew!!). I have been keeping myself busy grading papers (and writing lesson plans) to no end. I also have recently become a binge reader. It isn't good. I have read four books in less than a week (Outlaws of Sherwood and Beauty by Robin McKinley, East by Edith Pattou, and Enders Game By Orson Scott Card). I recommend them all... I has taken all my willpower today to not checkout the next book in the Ender's Game series. My students officially think I am crazy (and they are justified!). I find I amuse them as well. They are constantly laughing at me when I least expect it. Apparently I am funny! Today I kept saying "good grief!" without thinking and they laughed every time. Does anyone else find something strange about that saying?? I also tend to dance around the room--which they also enjoy. Anyhow, such is the excitement in Blanding! I will getting out soon... and seeing some sites. Hopefully my camera works!

Wow! I can't believe it has been almost a month since I posted anything. I am alive and well in Blanding! School has started and is going full swing. I tell you what, this is the real deal. They always say that the first year is the hardest--and I sincerely hope it is true. Despite teaching being a beast of a challenge--I find, on those days when I have well thought-out lesson plans, that it is also so very fun! There are great students--with incredible potential. I feel like we are getting to a place where we are more and more comfortable with one another.

Blanding, in and of itself, is perfect. It is a charming little town in the middle of no where. The people are friendly, outgoing, and open-armed. I love the calm and quiet of it all. My little apartment couldn't be more perfect--it is small, but with new floors and carpet, and has splashes of red all over :). I find that it is a sanctuary and a blessing. (Note: this isn't a picture of my house, but one just a few minutes down the road. Isn't it beautiful?)

Well, I am not feeling overly poetic or creative tonight, so I hope you will forgive me, since I need to finish my plans for tomorrow and can't spend more time here. I promise the next blog will have pictures of my apartment! Just know that I am alive and well.

Star light, star bright

This past week has been a whirlwind of events that have led up to a life that still doesn't quite seem real. I feel like I have always lived here--and yet everything is so new. Saturday my parents and I drove down and in an amazingly short amount of time were able to unload the little Uhaul and set up house. I am living in a two bedroom apartment that is part of a four-plex. All of the units have been completely remodeled and are beautifully done. It is just the right size for me, my bookshelves, and a rocking chair (and a few other things--but those is the most important). All week I have been in the thick of getting things ready for school to start (next Thursday) and setting up life in Blanding. I have already met most of my neighbors, and after attending our ward party last night, I am making friends with all of the widows in the ward :). So far everything seems to be running smoothly, and I have been busy enough not to be too bored or terribly lonely (thank goodness for cell phones and books!). I apologize for not posting any photos, but I am still working on getting wireless internet... only occasionally am able to find something that lets me log on at all. Once I have my own internet, I will upload photos of my apartment and the town. In the meantime, here is a peek at my favorite experience so far in Blanding...
A few nights ago I rocked in my chair until the dusk took over my living room and the only light came in through the open balcony doors. Quietly, I snuck down stairs and into my car, unsure of where to go. I went down 100 E--a road that eventually becomes a dirt road and leads towards the blue mountains. As soon as the lights from town disappeared over the hill, I found a place to pull over. I got out and sat down in the dirt next to a tractor--and marveled. It was breathtaking. The stars twinkled and shimmered and sparkled. Some stood out brilliantly bright and diamond-like. In the depths of a cloudless nights sky, others hung back, quieter, farther, dimmer. But they all glistened. As I sat with my head tilted back the crickets, in one endless, breathless rhythm pulsed their music through the air and dogs barked in the distance.

Wide Open Spaces

"Where are you going?" someone asks. "I'm moving to Blanding," I say. Invariably the corners of my mouth twitch upward and often, I break out into a full grin or chuckle. Blanding. A remote location in southeastern Utah; at least four hours from anywhere. "Why?" they say with a hint of real concern mixed with the surprise. What could possibly posses me to mover there? A valid, if not good and puzzling question. I am 24, freshly graduated from BYU, and completely unknown to anyone in that southeast edge of life. (Although, I know all sorts of people related to someone's cousin's roommate who grew up there. I am on strict command to find and befriend Truman and Aida, the Palmers, and I don't remember who else...) So the question remains: why would I make such a venture? As anti-climactic as it sounds... I don't know. I really don't. I could tell you all the gory details of meeting Kip at the BYU teacher fair, driving down in a snowstorm to interview, the internal moral dilemma that hovered conference weekend as I was given three days to decide. The nitty gritty of it is that I am thrilled to be escaping the land of Walmarts. Wide open spaces. A place out west. A small town that will drift off to sleep around nine. A blanket made of stars. Oh it sounds good to me! Ok ok, so the romantic ideals of the Dixie Chicks may not be the most valid reasons, but there is a ribbon of truth to it. I am going to be the 11th and 12th grade English teacher in a small town off the Indian reservations and just up from the four corners. I am taking a step into the dark, a giant leap of faith. I am breaking the mold of expectations and creating my own. I ultimately have no clue what I am getting myself into. It will be my own little adventure.

The Straight Facts

Blanding: 3,162 people
Square miles: 2.37
Miles from Provo: 282
Miles from the nearest Barnes and Nobles: 286