Maybe he is growing up… a little…
First of all, did you know i teach piano lessons? Sort of. (i don't get paid, but it's fun.) I started August 31. Teaching Oly'Anna S..* First of all, she's smrt.** You know fingerings and ups*** and downs**** and all that? She got that, no problem. (Some [nobody who reads my blog or related to one who does] of my Mom's students have trouble with that, and i have no idea how! It's just not as hard as all that!)
But anyway, the fact is that i teach weekly.
And then last Monday we had our usual church schedule, which began with Children's Choir (i'm still in it - for the sake of the choir, i say) practice. But Mom had opened the garage door when we were leaving, and forgot that that would set off the alarm. She ran home to tell the police that it's all right, and i started choir practice. Hm. Well. I don't think i'm all that ready for teaching a choir yet. I'd rather sit in the back and know all the answers. All i could do was open to the hymn***** and get them to sign the first two stanzas. Them Mom got back and took over, which made it a lot better, though everybody else said i did a wonderful job.
My last teaching position was yesterday. At the H.'s, doing biology (with Erik H., Matthew H., and Nick S.), Mrs. S. (teacher) had to take most of her kids home, and Matthew and i were the only one who'd done the On Your Own 3.1, and i'm older.****** So i showed The Icks (Erik and Nick [IckIck and NickIck]) how it was done, and today Mrs. S. was telling me all about how NickIck was praising my good job, calling me a "born teacher."
A born teacher? I don't think there is such a thing. You could be a born bossy person. But teaching isn't an instinct. But it is a talent… and both my parents are teachers. But i was raised by them. So is it inherited or did i learn by watching my parents? I'm inclined (partially from my choir experience) to say it was watching my parents. Is that how i got musical too? And my love of reading? And obscure facts?******* I've also been told to lead JuJitsu once in a while when Mr. H. (different one) is busy, and when Scottie isn't there, since he's older and higher ranked than me. Though shorter. And oh so annoying. Worse than zAaron AND the Icks!
But i digress. The teaching thing is part of learning JuJitsu, so that isn't singling me out.
I guess i never really thought of Nick as getting older. Except now he's almost as tall as me. Which, by the way, is wrong. People don't grow taller than me. I grow taller than them sometimes. That's just the way everything works. However, Erik recently grew taller than me, but i let it slide since he's technically a little older.
Digression again.
So maybe Nick is getting more mature too… that would be interesting.
The plot thickens!
*Pastor's sixth
**S-M-R-T smrt!
***NOT United Parcel Service
****NOT Demented Orthodontist Whacks Nick S.
*****TLH 25
******These things are fun to use!
*******That one is just my Dad.
This is Maggie's ancient, mostly dead (but still slightly alive!) blog. Peruse the archives at your own risk; they contain more than a little teenage nonsense.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Fire!
I wrote this (mostly) at the scene.
"The first thing we saw was smoke. Thick, black smoke fills the sky still. Huge and suffocating, I imagine, but - the building is mostly collapsed now - but the wind is taking it away.
It's still there, the fire. I know what they really mean by 'leaping flames' now. They're pouring water all over it, but the fire still goes higher than the buildings next to it. Now they're spraying those ones, so they don't catch it.
I'm about a block away, but I feel the heat on my face and arms, just like sitting close to the campfire, but not so happy.
It was a lumber yard. All that wood. Gone.
We got there before the fire trucks, even. I wonder how big the fire got before someone called it in. A lumber yard on Sunday morning, in a non-residential area, nobody was there, most likely. Well, that's a blessing. And it was only that one building that caught. Probably the smoke tipped whoever it was off. The black smoke of a fire left alone to burn."
[note: I would like to say the fire was red, reminiscent of blood (it's poetic), but it wasn't. It was orange, orange, beautiful and terrible and i couldn't keep my eyes off, sad though it was. We went back last night, Vati and me, but now it's just black things on the ground, and bits of broken glass, and two poles still standing up from the ground like the only survivors. Which they were. Why did i put a simile there? Hm.]
"The first thing we saw was smoke. Thick, black smoke fills the sky still. Huge and suffocating, I imagine, but - the building is mostly collapsed now - but the wind is taking it away.
It's still there, the fire. I know what they really mean by 'leaping flames' now. They're pouring water all over it, but the fire still goes higher than the buildings next to it. Now they're spraying those ones, so they don't catch it.
I'm about a block away, but I feel the heat on my face and arms, just like sitting close to the campfire, but not so happy.
It was a lumber yard. All that wood. Gone.
We got there before the fire trucks, even. I wonder how big the fire got before someone called it in. A lumber yard on Sunday morning, in a non-residential area, nobody was there, most likely. Well, that's a blessing. And it was only that one building that caught. Probably the smoke tipped whoever it was off. The black smoke of a fire left alone to burn."
[note: I would like to say the fire was red, reminiscent of blood (it's poetic), but it wasn't. It was orange, orange, beautiful and terrible and i couldn't keep my eyes off, sad though it was. We went back last night, Vati and me, but now it's just black things on the ground, and bits of broken glass, and two poles still standing up from the ground like the only survivors. Which they were. Why did i put a simile there? Hm.]
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Happy Birthday!!!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Sita!
Happy birthday to you!
Yupyup, my first (and so far only) niece and Goddaughter turned a year old this morning at 5:03 AM, and we're still four and a half hours away from each other.
This is your birthday song!
It isn't very long!
Hey!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Sita!
Happy birthday to you!
Yupyup, my first (and so far only) niece and Goddaughter turned a year old this morning at 5:03 AM, and we're still four and a half hours away from each other.
This is your birthday song!
It isn't very long!
Hey!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Day of sun
I just got finished stuffing seven school subjects and a leisure book into my brand new, orange bookbag. That's science (biology), math (algebra), Deutsch (German), literature, writing, grammar and piano.
Why am i so quick to abuse my wonderfuzzly colored book transporter? Because i actually want to use it, and i'm going to the G.'s (Pr. G. is our Assistant Pastor) tomorrow, from 8-5, and that means all my school. Well, it's be a change. We're doing it so i won't be all alone all the time. They have only 5 children (all girls), names and ages will possibly be posted later, when spellings and such are confirmed.
So, after church yesterday, we had an RLA thing. Resurrection Lutheran Academy was opening a new school, and Mom and Dad and Nat and Anna and Erik and i were all in the adult choir for their "ceremony," and Prs. S. and G. were both there too, along with a couple other people from our congregation. They called it a ceremony, although it was technically a service. Even though they handed out "programs" instead of bulletins, and the sermon didn't have the Law or the Gospel, didn't hear Christ and Him crucified for me, only anecdotes, and the Old Testament and Epistle were read by kids, one of them a girl, and afterwards we all (excluding a few Emmausites) sang "Allelu, allelu, allelu, alleluia!" and then the new principal got up and talked forever.
Later Mom and i ran errends, and saw a world-class pianist live (So-and-so Svietske or something, very Russian) (maybe more on him later), and roadkill, and i got my bookbag.
Why am i so quick to abuse my wonderfuzzly colored book transporter? Because i actually want to use it, and i'm going to the G.'s (Pr. G. is our Assistant Pastor) tomorrow, from 8-5, and that means all my school. Well, it's be a change. We're doing it so i won't be all alone all the time. They have only 5 children (all girls), names and ages will possibly be posted later, when spellings and such are confirmed.
So, after church yesterday, we had an RLA thing. Resurrection Lutheran Academy was opening a new school, and Mom and Dad and Nat and Anna and Erik and i were all in the adult choir for their "ceremony," and Prs. S. and G. were both there too, along with a couple other people from our congregation. They called it a ceremony, although it was technically a service. Even though they handed out "programs" instead of bulletins, and the sermon didn't have the Law or the Gospel, didn't hear Christ and Him crucified for me, only anecdotes, and the Old Testament and Epistle were read by kids, one of them a girl, and afterwards we all (excluding a few Emmausites) sang "Allelu, allelu, allelu, alleluia!" and then the new principal got up and talked forever.
Later Mom and i ran errends, and saw a world-class pianist live (So-and-so Svietske or something, very Russian) (maybe more on him later), and roadkill, and i got my bookbag.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Omygosh!
I heard a… funny conversation the other day. I was at ICE, where we have Jujitsu, but they also have a lot of cheerleaders:
Two girls passed me. One was telling a story:
"Omygosh, like, omygosh! I can't believe she, like, said that! Omygosh. And she just said, like, "Omygosh!'"
Other girl:
"Omygosh!"
No exaggeration. I wrote it down exactly as i heard it. I didn't look up. I was having trouble enough not laughing loud, i couldn't keep a straight face.
And then when i run into little eight-year-old cheerleaders/tumblers while i'm wearing my gi (Martial Arts uniform), they all say, "Woah!" with really wide eyes, and back away slowly.
Two girls passed me. One was telling a story:
"Omygosh, like, omygosh! I can't believe she, like, said that! Omygosh. And she just said, like, "Omygosh!'"
Other girl:
"Omygosh!"
No exaggeration. I wrote it down exactly as i heard it. I didn't look up. I was having trouble enough not laughing loud, i couldn't keep a straight face.
And then when i run into little eight-year-old cheerleaders/tumblers while i'm wearing my gi (Martial Arts uniform), they all say, "Woah!" with really wide eyes, and back away slowly.
How often do normal people cry?
This is a post a little late getting out (don't comment).
Last Friday i cried twice, but i'm not worried.
First i cut an onion.
Then-
I was in the kitchen, trying to make rice pilaf (it came out fine. It was the roast i had to worry about.), when i heard a loud THUMP and Sita's (she was visiting) crying.
I ran to the stairs, and she was standing on the landing, face screwed up and red, screaming hard. She took a tiny step. (She can hardly take anything else, her legs are pretty short.)
"Sita, NO!" I yelled, and was halfway up when she took another step - and fell, face forward. The back of her head hit, and she flipped (like doing a somersault), and landed in my arms.
I held her tight and she screamed in my ear.
I walked up the stairs. (Why up? I don't know) I got to the top of the stairs when Mrs. Kavouras came out of Nat's room and took her. I went back down.
Naomi came running and said, "What happened?"
"Sita fell down the stairs,"
"What was she doing near the stairs?" She ran there.
I just shook my head. Or maybe i said that i didn't know. I don't remember. (Once again, don't comment.)
How often does this type of thing happen? How did she get up the stairs in the first place? Hm. And no, i wasn't slacking off in watching her.
Last Friday i cried twice, but i'm not worried.
First i cut an onion.
Then-
I was in the kitchen, trying to make rice pilaf (it came out fine. It was the roast i had to worry about.), when i heard a loud THUMP and Sita's (she was visiting) crying.
I ran to the stairs, and she was standing on the landing, face screwed up and red, screaming hard. She took a tiny step. (She can hardly take anything else, her legs are pretty short.)
"Sita, NO!" I yelled, and was halfway up when she took another step - and fell, face forward. The back of her head hit, and she flipped (like doing a somersault), and landed in my arms.
I held her tight and she screamed in my ear.
I walked up the stairs. (Why up? I don't know) I got to the top of the stairs when Mrs. Kavouras came out of Nat's room and took her. I went back down.
Naomi came running and said, "What happened?"
"Sita fell down the stairs,"
"What was she doing near the stairs?" She ran there.
I just shook my head. Or maybe i said that i didn't know. I don't remember. (Once again, don't comment.)
How often does this type of thing happen? How did she get up the stairs in the first place? Hm. And no, i wasn't slacking off in watching her.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
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