Spring Lineup

Spring semester is upon us. That's why we just got eight inches of snow, I guess.

Anyway, it's going to be hectic around here for the next three months or so.

On Mondays and Wednesdays I have Digital Patterning. I guess I'll be learning to use a computer program to make and scale patterns. Cool. Required. Probably not anything I'm going to buy (the program). But it should be interesting.

Monday afternoons will be Illustration 2. The teacher is pregnant, and due in February. I wonder how this class will go?

Wednesday afternoons I'm taking Millinery! Finally! Already my kids have made requests: Brandon wants a cavalier hat (think Three Musketeers) and Michael wants a bowler hat. :-)



What do you think?
Brandon?



Michael?

Thursday mornings I'll have Fashion Portfolio.  Really, I can't imagine why that is a three-hour class, but OK.

And on Friday afternoons I'll have Outerwear—learning to make coats.  I wonder if this will be more cost-effective than buying coats?  We buy a lot of them in our house.

The hard days will be Mondays and Wednesdays.  Taking public transportation, as I do, means that it's pretty close to an hour-and-a-half each direction.  So for my 9:00 a.m. classes I have to leave home around 7:25 to catch the bus. My afternoon classes on those days start at noon on Monday and 1 p.m. on Wednesday; there is no time to come home between classes, and I won't get back home for the day until 4:30 or 5:30 p.m.  Loooooonnng days! My plan right now is to attempt to do ALL my homework during those between-classes hours. That way I can be home when I'm home.

And, just to make the mix more exciting, Bruce has been accepted into a master's program, and is starting next week. He's going for his MFT (marriage and family therapy) license.  We're pretty excited about this—a chance to move forward, at last! But I'm a little nervous too; we will be trying to run our household with both parents in school.    Thank goodness we have big kids who are capable and immensely helpful!

Bruce's classes are on Tuesday and Friday evenings from 6:00 to 10:00, and a few 8:00 to 5:00 Saturdays. This means I should be home when he's not. I went to his student orientation last Tuesday night and his classes—his whole program—sound teeeedeeeeous. Bleh! Better him than me! Bruce is in a rigorous, strict two-year program (meaning he takes the classes when they tell him to. Period.), so he should finish up about six months after I do. That will be awesome!

And, yes, I have finally made up my mind that I really will finish my program. I've hummed and hawed for so long that I am now three-quarters (or more) of the way to my degree anyway; I might as well do it. Only eleven classes left! I will try not to moan too much when mid-terms come around.

So that's what's coming up for the Norths. Wish us lots of luck!

And She Does It Again!

Mwah-hahaha!

Finals

It was a stressful two weeks, but my final projects are finally finished.  They were finally finalized at 1:30 a.m. Monday night/Tuesday morning.

"What does Robin Hood have to do with this?" you ask.

For 20th Century I had to choose one design element from one decade of 20th century fashion and use it to create three contemporary designs, choose fabric swatches for the designs, and illustrate them front and back.  I had to mount a historical picture of the design element I chose, the fabric swatches, and my drawings on a black foam-core board and do an in-class presentation of the whole thing.  I turned this one in yesterday (Tuesday, Dec. 4).

For Illustration I had to draw three original designs in full color (this one was due today).

For History of Costume I had to choose one design element from one period of historic fashion—from 3000 B.C. up until 1970—and use it to create three contemporary designs, choose fabric swatches for the designs, and illustrate them front and back.  I had to mount a historical picture of the design element I chose, the fabric swatches, and my drawings on a black foam-core board and do an in-class presentation of the whole thing.  (Sound familiar?)  This is due tomorrow (Thursday, Dec. 6). There will be a written exam for this class, too.

Now, if I had realized that Janet (my History and 20th-Century teacher) would let me use the same work for both classes I wouldn't have chosen an element from the Middle Ages for my history final; I would have definitely saved myself some time and effort and done 20th-Century for both classes. But I had already started on the Middle Ages project. Oh well.
At least I was able to use my History final for my Illustration class final. Yay!

For 20th-Century I decided to use Jackie Kennedy as my inspiration—partly because it sounded easy, but mostly because I realized that I already had fabrics I could use for the swatches.

 My designs mimic Jackie's style with slim, sheath dresses, and boxy jackets with 3/4-length sleeves.

A creamy silk/linen-blend sheath dress topped by an aqua jacket with beige embroidery.

The same sheath dress paired with a pink jacket. The jacket's hem, sleeves and lapels are trimmed with the cream silk/linen, and edged with self-fringing.

A brown tweed sheath dress with a reversed shawl collar in cream crepe-backed satin.

Janet really liked these; she said if she were a buyer looking for this style, she'd buy the whole line. (!) And she said I had beautiful illustrations. :-)

For my History project I chose dagging as my design element.  Dagging is that squared edge you see on the sleeve of Robin Hood's tunic. ("Aha!" you say.) I did choose an orginal 14th-century source picture, as requested; I won't be showing Errol Flynn to my class.

This guy is wearing a dagged cloak (with a chaperon, which probably also has a liripipe).

I came up with all kinds of great names for my dagging collection:  The Dagged Edge (prounounced like jagged)—or maybe The Dagged Line.  Or how about Well I'll be Dagged! (not prounounced like jagged); or—this one is great!— Dag Nab It!

Well, anyway, here are my designs:

Here we have a blue suede skirt with dagging at the hem, a cream blouse of crepe-backed satin, and an orange silk scarf with dagging on the ends. The shoes and narrow belt are of burgundy leather.



This model wears a tiered blouse in varying shades of orange; each tier is edged with dagging. It is paired with an A-line skirt of a soft brown wool herringbone, and the look is completed by brown leather boots topped with burgundy dagging.



This look begins with a pair of jeans and the cream-colored blouse. A brown leather jacket trimmed with burgundy dagging and an exposed zipper finishes the outfit.

I already showed the dagging collection in my Illustration class today. Tomorrow I present it to my History class, take the written final exam and I am finished!  NO school for a whole month!! Hooray!!!!

K thru 6

OK. I don't know why this came to mind, but as I was driving home from school the other day I started thinking about elementary school.  My going to elementary school, to be exact. I don't remember exactly what I was thinking about originally, but I started wondering what people might remember from each grade of elementary school.  So, like it or not, here are some of my memories from each grade:

Isn't this a great outfit?

Kindergarten:  My teacher at the beginning of the year was Miss Robb, but then later my teacher was Mrs. Jones. They looked exactly the same, but obviously must have been two different people.

I remember standing in a circle and learning "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." There was a girl in the class named Connie, so I figured Bonnie must be a girl's name, but it was kind of weird to call her "My Bonnie" (like my hat, or my shoes).

I knew how to write my first name and wanted to learn my last name.  We had a board with all the kids' names on it, and I wondered if John's name was the beginning of Johnson.  I hoped not.

I got to have the classroom guinea-pigs at the end of the year.

1st Grade: My teacher was Mrs. Atchley, and her husband's family was from England.

I remember sitting in a group and learning how to make the sounds of each letter. The teacher would sit in front of us, say the letter, and tell us how to shape our mouths and where to put our tongues. "W" was particularly funny because we were told to pucker up our mouths like we were going to kiss someone. 

I tested on the fifth grade reading level, and after that I got to read books to the class almost every day during story time.  I sat in the teacher's chair and read them stories (of my choosing).

2nd Grade:  My teacher was Miss Davis, the notoriously mean, scary teacher. (Actually she was nice. :-) )

I kept misspelling one word on a spelling test and I had to take the test over and over and over again.  The word was "let's."  I just could not figure out how to spell that word other than
"L E T S!" After I'd retaken the test in utter frustration and about a million times, Miss Davis finally pointed out that I was missing the apostrophe.

My mom started working as a county clerk this year (she'd been a full-time mom until then). I was so excited when I heard her tell my dad that she was going to go to lunch with the girls.  Was she going to take us all out of school for lunch? It wasn't until the day of the lunch in question that I realized she meant the ladies she worked with and not her girls.

3rd Grade: My teacher was Norma Gross (Mrs. Gross was a friend of my mom's).

I remember being lined up with the other kids in Mrs. Miller's reading class (we rotated), and outspelling all of them. I could spell all the words in the third grade spelling book.  She went to the back of the fourth grade book and asked me to spell "astronaut." I remember hesitating on the last syllable, but it seemed like "N A U T" was the right way to do it. Then she went and got the other third grade teachers (there was Mrs. Gross, Mrs. Miller and Miss Robin Hood.  Cross my heart and hope to die!)  I spelled "mathematics" for them, and who knows what all else, until I got tripped up on "piece." (I before E.)  The teachers' consensus was that they just couldn't believe it; I felt very smart.

I got to start in orchestra (violin) this year even though usually you had to wait until fourth grade.  I'm sure my mom pulled some strings—by the seventh Johnson kid everyone at Western Hills Elementary School knew my mom pretty well. :-)

4th Grade:  My teacher was Mrs. Olsen.

The Sunshine Family

If we got our work done early, we could color a picture to put on the bulleting board. I was sure to get my work done early every day!

The girls in the class made houses in their desks for their "Sweets" dolls. (Sweets was the baby of Mattel's "Sunshine Family.")  We had everything from furniture to dishes to wardrobes in our desks.  This was all OK with the teachers as long as the babies napped until recess time.

I read The Hobbit  for the first time; I loved it.

I went to speech therapy because I couldn't say my esses (sssssssss).  It worked; I can say them now.

Western Hills got a man teacher this year. I never knew men could be teachers!

5th Grade:  My teacher was Mrs. Christensen, another mean old lady teacher. (Actually she might maybe have been as much as fifty, and she was very nice.)

I was in a fifth/sixth grade class (only about eight fifth-graders) so I got to go to Mill Hollow with my class instead of waiting until sixth grade.  (I got to go in sixth grade, too! :-) )

There was a boy named Ricky who all the other kids teased mercilessly.  "Ricky's fleas!" was what you said when you tagged someone at recess.  One day we had an assignment to write about ourselves.  A few days later Ricky was sent on an errand for Mrs. Christensen and she read us his essay while he was gone. He talked about how sad he was, and how everybody was so mean to him and he didn't know why.  We all felt lower than dirt—at least I did.  We stopped picking on him, and I think a few even befriended him. It all still makes me a little sad.

I quit the violin this year because Max, a sixth-grader in my class, was also in orchestra and I didn't like him. (Augh! Can you believe it!  Augh! Augh! Augh!) Oh dear! I was probably not such a very nice child.

I got second place in the schoolwide spelling bee.  Although another girl in our classroom won it, Max said he'd been rooting for me.  Eeeeeewww! (I didn't know what "rooting for" meant, but it was gross that Max felt that way about me.)

I played a piano minuet by Franz Joseph Haydn in the school talent show. The secretary said I played as well as her teenage daughter, and I thought I was so awesome.

I started dance lessons this year (not in school). This was possibly the single most exciting thing that ever happened to me!

6th Grade:  My teacher was Miss Taylor.

Kim moved into the neighborhood and was the very best friend I'd ever had.

I was in the school spelling bee again, and I got out on the word
"excruciating."  This was excruciating because that word was a spelling/vocabulary word of mine that very week.  I spelled it
"E X C R U T I A T I N G," and I knew it was wrong as soon as I said it.

I read The Martian Chronicles, The Once and Future King, The Crystal Cave trilogy (not really for children, and I didn't like it or particularly understand it), and I started The Lord of the Rings, but I gave that one up.  I read lots of long, hairy grown-up books this year.

In ballet classes, I earned my pointe shoes this year.

So there you go.  I could go all the way to 12th grade, but I'll spare you for now. ;-)

What do you remember most from elementary school?

Pedals for Hope

If you are someone who reads my blog regularly (there's about six of you), then you might remember that I write about Pedals for Hope every year in May.  Pedals for Hope is one of my very favorite things about Entheos Academy—I find it very exciting.  But after last year's ride, I heard a nasty rumor that they may not do it again. And, truthfully, last year's assembly fell a little flat, and I never did find out how much money the kids raised.  I wonder if the problem is that it has become more a school project, rather than a student project. I think it would be very sad if they dropped this activity, and I believe that the excitement could be revived if they wanted to do it.  But what do you think it would take to bring back their enthusiasm?

Well, anyway, I wrote this paper for my English class last summer, and I've been meaning to post it here, since I never did write about last year's ride.  This is kind of a cumulation of my past years' Pedals for Hope writings, along with interviews of some of the people who got it going to begin with.  I hope you enjoy it. :-)

PEDALS FOR HOPE

Pedals for Hope assembly 2010
Jeffrey D. Allred, Deseret News

The air of Entheos academy is thick with anticipation and an eager buzz comes from the classrooms. In the large common room a few teachers wait, setting up chairs and making last-minute arrangements for the upcoming ceremony.  Soon children, teachers, and parents fill the room; the teachers are hard-pressed to keep their students quiet in this atmosphere of palpable excitement. When the main student body is seated, one teacher and twenty-three students, ranging from kindergarteners to ninth-graders, boldly march across the room and take their seats in front of the eagerly waiting crowd, where a man and a woman stand, their hands poised to slash with clean, sharp blades.  They are all about to witness human sacrifice.

Working quickly, the man and woman cut ten-inch ponytails from each girl's head; they shave the heads of three boys who have been growing their hair for a year in preparation for this day.  As they reach forward to cut the teacher's hair, an aide is in tears, "I can't believe Ms. Tere is cutting her beautiful hair—I love her hair!"  With each snip, with each shorn head, with each tail that is held high to the crowd's view, the room explodes with shrieking, chanting and cheering.

It is not a pagan ritual.  It is not an Entheos rite of passage.  It is the celebration of their annual cancer fundraiser, Pedals for Hope.

Entheos Academy lists Excellence, Service, and Leadership as its first values, and Pedals for Hope is their culminating service project every year.  In the past four years Entheos students have raised over $20,000 for cancer research at the Huntsman Cancer Foundation.  It is even more impressive that this annual fundraiser was spearheaded by sixth-graders and continues to be propelled by the students.

Pedals for Hope was conceived in 2008, when Entheos sixth-graders did an expedition—a two month long, in-depth study—about cancer.  Their teacher, Kathy Millar, had set up a similar program in Michigan, and wanted to encourage her Entheos students to start a cancer fundraiser.  She explains, ". . . even though I had the idea and the structure, part of that structure is giving kids the freedom and opportunity to own it.  I don't think it is possible for me to say, 'This is what we are doing,' and then [expect them to] do it.  Kids wouldn't buy in.  So . . . we started at ground zero and let the kids make the decisions."

Google Images

Ms. Millar arranged for field trips to the Huntsman Institute for Cancer where, besides learning about the progression of the disease, the students learned that 550,000 people will die of cancer in a year—literally a person every minute.  Visitors were invited to the school to tell kids of their experiences with cancer.  Lindsey North, an Entheos alumnus and one of those original sixth-graders recalls, "The thing that caught my attention the most was that people said they couldn't believe that it was their family member lying on the bed. It didn't look like the person they knew. 

"It surprised me, and made me want to help."

The more the children learned, the greater compassion they felt for cancer victims and their families.  "We wanted to learn more about how to help," Lindsey said.  "We didn't know how to do it, we just knew we wanted to do it. And our teacher, Kathy Millar—she told us about a place called the Make a Wish Foundation."  Ms. Millar took her students on a field trip to the foundation in Salt Lake City, where they were introduced to the magical fairy-tale room that Make a Wish uses to begin their process of granting one wish to children, up to eighteen years old, who have life-threatening diseases.

After that field trip the Entheos students really started brainstorming ideas to promote cancer awareness.  "We toyed with the idea of selling T-shirts, or bracelets, or necklaces," Lindsey said, "but it didn't seem like something that we could really go very far with.  We heard that other people did runs or bike-rides . . . and so we decided maybe we should do something like that instead.  We came up with the name [Pedals for Hope] because we wanted something to do with bikes, and we wanted to give hope."

That year the sixth grade set a goal to raise $3,000 for the Huntsman Cancer Foundation.

"After we chose [a bike tour] we started looking at, 'How can we get money for this?'  We heard that other groups just went out and found sponsors," Lindsey said.  So with help from their teachers, these eleven and twelve-year-olds began looking for supporters.  Together they composed a letter, which they sent to some local businesses.  Later they called those businesses, and some of the kids even visited them to ask for donations in person.  Kathy Millar recalls, "[The kids] got dressed up and went into town to solicit sponsors—this was their idea and they took it so seriously.  It was beautiful."

Other students spent extra hours after school to make more phone calls.  They followed up with their potential sponsors until the day of the bike ride.  They found a business that would donate T-shirts to Pedals for Hope, and they looked for others who would donate bikes and helmets to use for their tour.

But they had another obstacle to overcome: some of the kids didn't know how to ride bikes.

shutterstock.com

So the students made bi-weekly visits to the Salt Lake Bicycle Collective where they learned all about bicycles: what all the parts are called, how they work, how to make minor repairs, bike safety, and the students who didn't know how to ride learned how.  "We took our bikes to school to practice for the bike ride," Lindsey remembers.  "That year only the sixth grade [participated in the bike tour], so it was important that everyone knew how to [ride]."

The students did get discouraged, but at any given time there was a handful of kids who were excited enough to keep the project moving forward.  Lindsey relates, "As we got nearer to the bike ride everybody finally realized that, 'Yes, it's going to go well, and it's something to be proud of.' And everybody's attitude just changed."

The Entheos students planned a two-stage, two-day bike ride, with a campout on the interim night. But the race got rained out, and after a tumultuous night in the tents leaders decided it was too dangerous to continue; they had to go back home.  Ms. Millar said, "Virtually every kid said something to the effect of, 'I feel like we are letting cancer patients down,' or, 'They go through worse times than this.' At that point I knew they got it—it's not about getting out of school or riding the bike; it's about helping. Their empathy was true and their understanding genuine—I was so proud that day!"

Pedals for Hope assembly, 2009

The next day, May 21, 2008, the weather quieted and the Entheos sixth grade finished their tour on the Jordan River Parkway.  They rode their bikes fifteen miles, sporting bright yellow "Pedals for Hope" T-shirts to show their support for cancer research.  Nine girls had heard of Locks of Love, the organization that makes wigs for patients who have lost their hair.  These girls pledged to donate their hair if they reached their $3,000 goal.  They not only reached the goal, but almost doubled it, earning $5,411 that year.

The entire school was so excited by the success of Pedals for Hope that it has become an annual event.  They extended the bike-riding privileges to the whole middle school; now students have the choice of riding from ten to fifty miles, and several parents and teachers ride with them.  Some middle-schoolers who don't want to ride wait at posts along the trail to give small snacks, water, and, most of all, encouragement to their bike heroes.  The rest of the student body participates in the annual Penny Wars—a competition throughout the school to see which grade, K through 9, can collect the most pennies to contribute to the Huntsman Foundation.  The Penny Wars alone have earned more than $1,000 every year, and the Locks of Love donations have become a highlight of Entheos' annual celebration of Pedals for Hope.

"Beautiful things [happened] at Entheos," Ms. Millar remembers.  "[One year] the kindergarten class raised over $400 in our Penny Wars; they wheeled out two monstrous jars filled with pennies to surprise us after a day [of] riding—it was awesome.  I loved the way the whole school came out, built an arch with their hands, and gave the kids high fives as they returned from their riding day.  [The kids] could feel the contributions tangibly.  More important than what I feel about the money the kids raise is the way they feel—I will never forget the day we unrolled that first amount.  The sheer joy and pride on their faces was contagious—students believed in the cause, worked hard, and in the end . . . they felt empowered.  And that is what this is all about—empowering kids to do good."

Pedals for Hope bike ride, 2011

It is a beautiful morning; there's a cool breeze, but the sun shines warm on the Jordan River Parkway.  Forty students in matching T-shirts stand by their bicycles, hands on the handlebars, ready to go.  They are getting instruction and encouragement from their teacher, Matthew Edvik.  "The other night the Huntsman Center held an awards ceremony to honor those who have helped them," he tells his kids.  "Entheos is one of only five organizations who received a special award from them."  And with cheering, high-fives, and high hopes, the bike ride begins.

June is half gone!

And I haven't written anything! In fact, I can't think of anything to write. It is all school, school, school these days!

I decided to trade my online English class for an in-class English class. When I saw all the stuff I'd have to do online I decided it would be much easier to spend the six hours in class. And I was right! :-) I like my teacher, and the work is easy and fun—Intermediate Writing—right up my alley.

Algebra is . . . algebra. After bombing the first test (70%) we had an easy section. In fact, it was quite fun. I am 90% sure that I'll get 95% on the second test we took last Monday—provided I didn't do dumb things like add instead of subtract, or put the wrong signs down in the answer, which I am prone to do. But I tried to be very careful, so hopefully I'll get the 95%. Now we are in a difficult section again; but maybe that's because I go to bed after 1:30 a.m. most nights, get up at 7:00 a.m. so I can be on time for my gym classes (which I love), and then live on apples and oranges all day until I get back home.

Let's see . . . I already said I'm loving my gym classes. Not much more to say about that.

In Corset-Making I'm mostly done with my first corset. It is actually a cool piece of clothing. Soon I'll have to start on my second corset. While the first one is all white, and I would only wear it under my clothing (I mean, if I intended to wear it), the second one is to be made of fashion fabric. So I'll make it to go with a Halloween costume. I'm thinking I'd like to do Regency era clothing (think Jane Austen), or Victorian, or maybe make one to wear over a chemise, with a full skirt. Best of all would be something versatile that I could use with several costumes (because I spend soooo much time and effort dressing myself up for Halloween). Hm. I'm looking over that last sentence. Are corsets versatile?

Speaking of corsets and dressing up, wouldn't it be fun to have a real fancy ball? There is a dance called "Mr. Beveridge's Maggot" (I'm not making that up), that I've seen in a couple of my favorite Jane Austen movies. I think it would be easy to learn. And maybe learn how to waltz, and minuet . . . and then have a big, fancy, dress-up ball. Wouldn't that be fun?

Well, anyway . . . I don't really have much to say. I guess this is just a little update. :-)

Obsessing

So, I woke up this morning and guess what? I knew how to solve at least two of those stupid test problems! I didn't study last night; I didn't copy the questions in question and try to figure them out. I stayed home pouting about how badly I'd done, and watching a fairly dumb movie. But this morning I woke up knowing the problems (and I mean exact numbers) I was given to solve, and knowing just what to do anyway.

Stinky Problem #1:
Some stadium or other sells 33,000 seats; some of them are general seating for $4 each, and some are reserved seating for $13 each. They bring in $222,000. How many general seats and how many reserved seats did they sell?

Could I solve this yesterday afternoon? NO!!! I just sat there freaking out because I knew I should know how to do it, and trying everything I could imagine, and then finally left it unfinished.

I wake up this morning and, Bing! Here's how to do it:

G = general seating; R = reserved seating —OK?
So, G + R = 33,000 (general seats plus reserved seats equal the total amt. of seats sold).
4G = 13R = 222,000 ($4 per general seats plus $13 per reserved seat equals the total amt. of money brought in.)
To use the process of elimination I will get rid of the G from each equation. So I multiply the first problem by - 4, getting - 4(G + R = 33,000), or - 4G - 13R = -132,000. Follow?
Now I add that new problem I just created to the second problem and I get:
- 4G - 4R = - 132,000
+ 4G + 13R = 222,000 and the answer is:
9R = 90,000 or
R = 10,000

Since I now know that R = 10,000 I can figure out that G = 23,000 pretty easily. So the answer is:
They sold 23,000 general seating tickets and 10,000 reserved seating tickets. (And, yes, it checks out.)

See!!! I can do this! And it was easy besides!! And I could shoot myself for not being able to do it on the test yesterday! AAARRRRGH!!!

Stinky Problem #2: You row downstream with a 4 mph current at your back and you travel 94 miles. You come back only 47 miles in the same amount of time. At what rate do you row in still water? (Although I think saying "still water" is making an assumption.)
This morning I realized that I was three-quarters there with this problem, and if I hadn't been so freaked out I could have solved it.

Stinky Problem #3: A deep sea diving bell, traveling at a constant rate of speed goes down 600 feet in 8 minutes (which sounds like 75 feet per minute, but apparently isn't). It goes 1500 feet in 40 minutes (this sounds like 37.5 feet per minute). How fast was it really going?

Stinky Problem #4: A gas station sells 4289 gallons of gas at $1.35 per gallon; they sell 3570 gallons at $1.40 per gallon. How much could they sell at $1.19 per gallon? (A lot, nowadays!)

I'm still stuck on problems 3 and 4, although I'm sure I got close to solving them too, end even now the solution is tickling the edge of my brain.

I won't trouble you by solving problem 2 here on my blog. But getting 1 and 2 done would have been the difference between B- and A- on this exam. I really could shoot myself!

Can you do them?

algebra test score < acceptable

I had my first algebra exam today. After doing all the required homework problems for each section I was < certain that I was understanding the whole mess. So, with my first exam looming, I went back and worked every single problem in every single section that we'd covered. I looked over my notes, re-read all the instructions in each section, used the "student solution guide" as a help when necessary, and spent every spare minute I had doing algebra. I did algebra problems for two to four hours a day for eight days running, until I thought I'd finally figured out what I was doing. I was even getting through the story problems quite well. So I went to class this afternoon feeling pretty confident in my ability to pass the test, and pass it well.

And then we got our exams. I was unsure of how to solve a few problems, but all of the story problems completely threw me for a loop. Oh, I can do the math, but I couldn't figure out how to set up the problems. And with each problem that I couldn't quite solve, I got more freaked out and tense (that's Loralee taking a test), so my solutions to some of the other questions were . . . questionable. At best I will pass with 80%. That's if I only missed the problems that I either gave up on or ran out of time to puzzle out.

Tonight, in retrospect, I've reached the conclusion that I really did understand how to do all the story problems—in context of doing 15 to 20 of the same type of problem in a row. :-(

I am very sad. I feel very discouraged. I worked my bum off for that pathetic score! Or maybe just my fingers. ≤ 80% is unacceptable! I don't know why, but I feel compelled to be an A student.

B < acceptable.

BALLOOP!

Well, I don't know when I'll ever post pics of my school projects. Either I don't have good weather or I don't have a photographer. Instead, I'll tell you about summer semester.

I am signed up for English 2010—an online class; and Cardio Fitness again (wait, did I already tell you this? Hm.) I've got Flexibility for Fitness; had Zumba, but went to one class and realized that "zumba" is just a fancy name for "aerobics"—and I have hated—passionately hated—aerobics ever since the 80's, even at my peak of physical fitness. So I dropped Zumba quickly. And I have Algebra, which is causing me fits. And I have Corset Making.

Corset Making is, by far, the most interesting, so I'll tell you some things I have learned about corsets:

First, there actually is something appealing about a piece of clothing that sucks your gut in for you, corrects your posture, and lifts your saggy . . . bosoms. (And I think it's actually more comfortable than some of those Spandex body-shapers.)

I made the mock-up for my corset this week and had the fitting today. My friend, Cherylene (say "Sherleen") was fitting me. She'd get me all pinned up and then call the teacher, Eugene, to come check her work. Eugene would say to me, "How does that feel? Does it feel like it's supporting you?" Well, it did feel like the tightest piece of clothing I've ever worn—including leotards and Miracle Suit swimsuits. But I really didn't know how it was supposed to feel. Finally, after about the tenth time he asked me, I said, "Well, I don't usually wear a corset, so I don't really know if it's right."

Then, since my corset was the first one to get close to fitting properly, he had me demonstrate for the class lifting myself up ("Could you reach down your shirt and lift your breast?") so they'd know how to fit the corset to lift and not mash down. (One girl, seeing me fearlessly reach into my shirt and lift—in front of the whole class—laughingly said to me, "Now I just love you!")

Finally Eugene and Cherylene got me all snugged up, and lifted up, and now I do know what a corset should feel like. For next week I have to fix my pattern and sew up the alterations.

The second thing I learned (or figured out) is this: There is NO WAY you could ever put your corset on all by yourself. I realized this when I was fitting Cherylene. I had to grab hold of those seams and pull with all my might, and then pin it in tighter and tighter and tighter. Now, imagine trying to put on a tight pair of jeans and get them zipped up. It is really difficult, but at least you can do tricky things like lie down on your back and suck your tummy in. (Come on; we've all done it!) But how on earth can you suck in your tummy and your sides and your back-fat and lift your boobs up and put on a garment that can't hold itself up (having no sleeves) and then fasten it? It can't be done! Seriously, I dare you to try it. No wonder Scarlett had Mammy tugging on her laces while she held on to the bedpost.

The last thing I learned about corsets is that they're probably not really all that sexy. I know you can sometimes see them in the lingerie department; but those must just be eye-candy corsets—not corsets that actually do their job.

It's like this: You manage to squeeeeeze yourself into your corset somehow, and you look beautiful—maybe even sexy! Thin, flat tummy; full, lifted breasts; amazing posture—lovely! But if you were to open this package (and I know this from experience today) all that stuff that you somehow squeezed in just mooshes out. Think of filling a Ziploc baggie with bread dough, and then letting the dough rise until the baggie is full almost to bursting. Then you take a knife and cut a lengthwise slit in the baggie. All the dough just kind of "balloops" out onto the counter. This is what happens to your body when you loosen the corset. See what I mean? Not sexy.

I am learning so much in school!

If April Showers Bring May Flowers . . .

. . . What do May showers bring?

I still haven't taken any pictures of my fabulous, "A"-earning projects because I have no place with some good light in which to model them. And you're really missing out because I was going to model the fabulous muslin jeans too! If the rain ever stops, I'll still post the pics.

In the meantime, here's what's been happening around here:
Ryan was nominated for Student Council Treasurer at Entheos, and Brandon was nominated for Historian. Brandon made it through the preliminary election and is waiting the final election tomorrow—next Monday (the 23rd) we'll know who won.

Kaylie and the entire fourth grade have been rehearsing and rehearsing a play about pioneers; they are performing tomorrow night. (If you want to see their play, leave me a comment and I'll tell you when and where.)

Rachel's class has been reading The Tale of Despereaux; yesterday they had "Soup Day" in their classroom. All the kids donated something to put into their pot of soup (they made three crockpots full of different soups). Rachel really liked the "Courage Soup" that she helped to make.

Jessica's class went swimming yesterday.

And Brandon and Lindsey are gearing up for the annual Entheos cancer fundraiser, Pedals for Hope. They are still collecting donations, so if you want to help, leave me a comment. Lindsey will donate her hair for Locks of Love at the assembly tomorrow, and Saturday is the actual bike ride—hopefully the rain will stop before then!

In other news, at the beginning of April Bruce accepted a new job. On April 10 he and Michael drove away to Colorado to work for Vivint, selling home alarm systems. After two weeks in Colorado they moved on to Fort Wayne, Indiana, where they were supposed to spend the rest of the summer (until August 27). For reasons I won't go into here and now, we had no intention of telling our families about this job decision. But after one month of being very vague as to Bruce's whereabouts ("He's at work . . ." "He's working 24-7 these days . . .") I was wondering just how long I could really keep this a secret.

Michael decided the job really wasn't for him after about three weeks, and he came home via AMTRAK. He enjoyed the train ride; he said it was really interesting—especially crossing the Rocky Mountains. The downside of the 36-hour ride was that he couldn't afford any more than just a seat on the train, which meant he had to sleep in his chair. But it taking the train sounds pretty cool—I think we'll have to try it some day (except for the sleeping in the hard chair part).

In early May I was spared trying to come up with creative—yet still true—excuses for Bruce's continued absence. After much thought and prayer, he decided that working for Vivint in Indiana all summer was not what he should be doing. He was willing to stay there and work if it was the right thing to do; but he truly felt that it wasn't. So he came back home, arriving here on May 8. Yay!! I was pretty darn miserable with him gone, and at the prospect of a whole summer of him being gone still ahead of us.

After he got back home he got another job offer so quickly that we are certain this was the right decision. Yay!

As for me, I had an entire week-and-a-half off from school, and now I'm back at it again. This semester's agenda is Math 1010 (algebra), English 2010, Cardio Fitness, Flexibility for Fitness, Zumba, and Corset-Making. And yes, I have to make the corsets for myself (I need a model to fit them to every week). We are each making two corsets, and I really don't know what I'll ever do with them after the class is done. Hang them on the wall as art? That will be a busy class, but fun. Algebra will be a busy class, but I don't know about fun.

Well, that's about all. Soon (I hope) I'll post the pictures of last semester's projects, and I'll post about Pedals for Hope, too! Fun stuff!!

I am so Awesome! ;-)

Straight A's again—and I worked for it! Yay, me!!
(I'll post pics of my projects soon.)

Not of the world

The kids at school make me sad. Yesterday I discovered that a young girl who is in lots of my classes, Miss B, smokes. I'm pretty sure it's a new habit she's taken up. It made me genuinely sad when she came in late, smelling like smoke. (And yes, it was her and not a friend she was hanging with; she said today that she's smoking "for now.") She's 18 or 19 years old.

Last week, Miss B announced—as if it were a big joke—that her roommate (same age) was pregnant. Some other girls asked Miss G, "Really?" And she said, "Oh, maybe. I'll know in a couple weeks." as if it were no big deal. Miss G is also around 18 or 19.

Another day I heard a conversation between Miss B and Miss R; they were talking about getting drunk and how much fun they have. Miss R said that once she was with a group of friends, and she got "sooo drunk," and they took "drunk pictures" that she had to delete from her camera later. I can only imagine. Well, no; I probably can't (and I'd rather not).

Today young Mr. F was talking about how the guy he's interested in is in a relationship with someone else, and how his mother worries that one of the male teachers at school might be interested in him. (Not worried about a relationship with another guy, as far as I can tell; just that it could be a relationship with a teacher.)

And they all compare their "pretty" tattoos (everyone), and the girls talk about the boyfriends they are living with but don't know if they could marry. And my friend who is nearer to my age, talks about her awful ex-husband all the time, and makes it sound like men are just vile. She says she'd like to remarry, but her consensus with another divorced classmate is that you just can never know if you can trust a guy.

If we took a vote I think the majority of my classmates would say they don't want to get married, they certainly don't want to have children, and I know for a fact that at least two of my class members think abortion is OK and every woman's right.

They are all nice people—I like them. So it makes me sad to hear them talk. At first I was just kind of shocked; I thought these attitudes were only on TV and in movies—pure Hollywood stuff. But these kids really think this way and do these things. It brings me down to hear them.

I hadn't realized how sheltered I have been. Thank goodness I've been taught to be in the world, but not of it.

Crazy-Busy!

School is keeping me extremely busy right now. Every week I make a new pattern of some kind—right now we are working on sleeves, so I make two different sleeves and a bodice to put them on—and then I have to cut them out of muslin and sew them all together. Yes, I do something like this every week for this class. I'm working on a jacket for Adv. Sew, my coat for Tailoring, and three more patterns for Pattern by Measurement. The P by M patterns are finally drawn; now I have to cut them from lovely fabrics and make them to fit me (and hope that they really look nice enough to wear).

Plus all my school and all the kids' school entails a lot of running around, and our van has been out of commission for three weeks. Ben and Tami have been far, far more than extremely generous and kind to us, and have let us use their van all this time. (I think a catered dinner with a lovely dessert is in order for them.) Hopefully our van will be out of the shop tonight—or tomorrow morning.

On top of all that, we have BIG family things in the works that are . . . a little stressful. But I'm not ready to divulge more than that right now. It's just that things here are crazy, crazy-busy!

p.s. Send me a poem for my contest! I could use the break. ;-)

The Most Important Meal

Everyone says it: Don't skip breakfast! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!

Well, I often skip breakfast. Not because I'm not hungry; I usually wake up starved! But I look in the fridge and in the pantry and my body says, "Bleh." After about 45 minutes—the amount of time it takes to get the kids up and ready for our daily drive to school—I'm not starving any more, but I do feel ready to eat. So when I get home I can eat something in a nice, leisurely fashion, and stave off my hunger for another few hours. It's good.

Bleh.

Except on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I go straight from the kids' school to my school for Cardio Fitness Class (aka Play Like a Hamster on a Wheel Class). Then I feel a little guilty because not only did I skip the most important meal of the day, but now I'm exercising after having gone my entire night with no food to energize me or get my metabolism going. But it's still not too bad, because the class is only an hour and then I go home and have something to eat in a nice, leisurely fashion, staving off my hunger for a few hours.

But Wednesdays are terrible! On Wednesday mornings I go through the usual routine: Wake up ravenous; peer into the fridge, "Bleh;" get the kids up, get ready for school, etc. But this time I have to go straight from the kids' school to the train station and head up town for six hours of classes. By the time I've made it to my first class I know I could eat something. About an hour into class I am truly starved. After another hour my body quiets down and stops complaining to me, and I can finish the first three-hour class in peace.

But then I have to go to Patterns, the class that requires the most brain work. And the five minute walk from Tailoring to Patterns reminds me that I am starving, and that I have three hours of mind-intensive class to finish, and that the classroom is fiendishly hot. And then the afternoon blahs hit. It makes for a tough class.

Things might be different if this was in my fridge

or my pantry in the morning

Well, yesterday morning was kind of awful. I'd stayed up Tuesday night until 1 a.m. finishing a whole lot of hand-sewing for Tailoring class because I'd missed two weeks in a row due to strep-throaty kids, and was falling behind. This late-night sewing got me almost caught up with the class (and, as a bonus, I got to "watch" BBC's Sense and Sensibility while I sewed). At 1 a.m. I carefully laid my coat-fronts on the ironing board, so as not to wrinkle them, and then headed to bed.

Wednesday morning: I wake up about half an hour early, but still starved; look in the fridge, "Bleh." I think, "Maybe I can work on that late project for Patterns." But instead I start packing my school bags. Between my preparations and getting the kids up and ready for school I spend the entire hour and a half just getting myself ready to go. And now I'm really starving! But it's time to hop in the van and drive off. I throw a few granola bars and a bottle of water in my bag and we leave. As I'm pulling up to Entheos it suddenly hits me: I left my coat pieces lying on the ironing board! After some choice expletives (shoot! dang-it!) I drive back home. And then, thinking that I'm late anyway, I make myself a sandwich—which was kind of bleh, but quick and easy to do. At least I won't be hungry through the first class. I get my stuff together and drive for the train station. I get there just as the train does, and I have to RUN to make it (I am too old for this kind of adrenaline rush!) This gives me a headache and nausea that make me regret the turkey-pastrami sandwich for the next hour.

And then, a miracle happened! I didn't feel hungry throughout my Tailoring class! I didn't get hungry in Patterns until the last 30 minutes or so of class! I didn't feel like I'd rather go to sleep than draw another pattern all afternoon! I felt pleasant all day!

Could it be that I'd jump-started my metabolism for the day? Maybe breakfast really is the most important meal of the day! Whaddaya know?

Of course right now, first thing in the morning, having woke up (woken up? awakened?) feeling starved, and having looked around and gone, "Bleh," I am blogging about breakfast instead of eating it.

Bus Adventure

On Tuesdays and Wednesdays I get out of school too late to go pick my kids up from school. So Bruce rides the bus to work, I leave the van at the train station and take the train into town; in the afternoon Bruce buses over to the train station and then goes to get the kids.

Today, on the bus, I was just sitting there minding my own business and playing Sudoku on my phone. At one stop a man got on and, even though there were lots of empty seats, he sat right next to me. He glances at my phone and says, "How do you text on that thing?"

I say, "I go to my 'contacts' list and enter the name/number that I want." and go on playing my game.

He says, "Text me."

Well, that was unexpected! I say, "I can't; I don't have your name and number in my phone."

He tells me his name and waits for me to do something. I say, "I don't have your number." and play my game.

He says he doesn't know if he can remember his number. He thinks for a minute and then slowly gives me his number. I nod, and keep playing my game, wondering— what's the deal here? Is he just friendly? is he simple? does he think I'm cute? (I wasn't this afternoon), is he looking for a friend? I don't know what to say, so I say nothing. I am very rude, I suppose. After a few seconds he says, "Give me your phone number."

!?!

I say, "I don't give out my phone number." And I wonder how long I will be sitting next to this man. But he got off at the very next stop.

And this little adventure is the most unusual thing that has ever happened to me on the bus.

Awake . . .

. . . at 4:30 a.m. Initially I woke up to at 3:50 to go to the bathroom. But then I couldn't get back to sleep because my unfinished homework looms over me, watching me toss in my bed. So I got up to work on it, only to find that there is no space for me to work on it. I can clean the kitchen from 4:30 a.m. to 5:30 a.m. so that I can work on school stuff that I still won't have time to finish, or I can sit here being super-tired and blog about it.

So here's a little whine for you.

My Pattern class is making me crazy. Now, I do like patterns, and I still "get it." But I spend every spare minute I have pretty much ignoring my kids, and my house, and almost not even preparing meals, so I can draft, cut out, and sew new patterns instead. This week I've only had time for the drafting of patterns; no sewing got done—a major, HUGE part of the grade each week. And between that class and the mom stuff I have to do I'm not getting any of my other homework done. I'm about three weeks behind in Tailoring—another reason I can't sleep, because that's my first class this morning. I don't have my Pattern by Measurement assignment done; I will scramble to do it tomorrow before class in the evening. I am staying up too late and getting up too early, and am generally stressed-out and unhappy.

Add to all that: one son who aimlessly stays up all night every night, even though he doesn't seem to like it and frequently complains about going nowhere; another son who dropped his core classes in school, opting to take charge of his own education instead (meaning he will study English, math, and history on his own—pretty much unsupervised, since I'm not really able to keep track of what he's doing while I'm in school myself); a husband working three part-time jobs; plans to go to graduate school (Bruce, not me, obviously) and possibly move; and all the normal craziness of life.

I ask myself, "Why am I going to school anyway?" I don't think I've ever been entirely clear about that.

I rationalize, "If we do move I'll be forced to drop the program anyway and I can learn most of it from reading the textbooks. This is what's happening in Patterns, anyway." (True enough.)

I think, "Maybe I should just quit going to classes, and fail them all, and forget about school."

Dropping out sounds like a very relieving thing to do; but this option, I think, would make me feel sad. I don't want to be a quitter—never mind the lovely example this would give my kids.

But I am drowning, drowning, drowning. I should be sleeping now, at 5 a.m. I should gently and kindly tell myself that I can't get the work finished anyway—not before I have to get the kids up, and ready for, and to school—and that another two hours of sleep would serve me better. But my over-excitable brain won't let me sleep.

So, instead, I guess I'd better go get the kitchen clean enough for me to start working.