June 1, 2008
I ran my first half marathon with my sister-in-law in January. Through the training for it and living in a different country with more fresh fruit and less temptation to go out for dinner, I lost 20 pounds. It felt great. I was excited and motivated. And then, I got lazy. No, I haven’t gained any of the weight back (yet). But it could happen. And no, I’m not in the shape I was in in January. The thing is, I need accountability and well, goals, or I get complacent.
So, when Carlos issued a challenge. I jumped on it. Next, I wimped out. Then, the ragamuffin of blogger stardom posted a comment on this little website of mine. He punked me out. With zero shame. So, I’m in. Again.
The rules via The Ragamuffin:
1. You must have a measurable goal.
Medellin half marathon. Under 2 hours. Sept. 14th, 2008.
Down 20 lbs by ’09.
2. You must place a photo or video on your blog each weekend and give us the scoop on how you did.
Um, gonna need a little Blake Thompson tutorial. Coming soon.
3. You must link back here so that the readers of your blog get to see how the rest of us are failing or succeeding.
Check out the other ragamuffin top participants.
4. You fill out the linky thing below and then people can get to your blog from my front page and we can cheer each other on.
Done.
You guys could join the fun. Jump on the challenge. Or pray that I don’t fall off the wagon. That’d be awesome. You know that accountability thing I mentioned? Yeah, I need it. So, ask me how I’m doing. And friends, no more chocolate in the mail. A woman can only take so much.
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May 30, 2008
Deep in the woods in the darkest of night
there is a place where ships take flight.
Where little boys roam and ride and explore
through caves and caverns along ocean floors.
Past monsters and trolls and sword wielding men
over mountains and walls and back again.
Dancing with mermaids and ladies fair
while fighting with pirates and bandits there.
So, climb aboard this dream bound fleet.
Sleep, my prince, there are kings to meet!
Posted in friendcitos 7 Comments »
May 29, 2008
Last week the art teacher (who teaches all 12 grade levels) held an expo to display student work. It was a truly amazing event. Colombian kids by nature are artistic and expressive and I was awestruck by their creativity. My favorites were the big projects by the jardín which serves students ages 1 through 3. Yes, I said ages 1 through 3. They were asked “What is peace?” Their quotes were used on big murals and decorated with butterflies and handprints and such. Here are some of the quotes.
“La paz es el alma y el corazón.” Peace is the soul and the heart.
“Claro yo la conosco. Una ves la vi en cine… pero hace como un año y no la hé vuelto a ver.” Sure, I know. I saw it once in a movie, but that was like one year ago and I haven’t seen her again.
“La paz es darle el corazón a mi mamá.” Peace is giving my heart to my mom.
And here’s a three year old’s response to the exhibit:
“Miren! Miren! Encontre un tesoro. Unas huellas de niños!” Look! Look! I found a treasure! Fingerprints of the children!”
What’s peace to you? What’s your treasure?
Posted in colombia 6 Comments »
May 29, 2008
I had this great professor in college. He was always challenging us to try new things, to push the envelope, to be ever growing educators. Truthfully, as a word person, his ideas about numbers and technology were pretty intimidating for me. And his classes were hard. They were uncomfortable and they weren’t what I was good at doing, and the content he taught– math, science, technology– I’m still not great at those things. But I’m a better teacher because of him and he’s still challenging me to do more, to go beyond the expected, and to involve my kids in some phenomenal learning.
He’s given me the chance to write about technology on his website. I never thought I’d do that. Write? Maybe. About technology? Not so much. But I did write about teaching with technology and my one thing made it onto his website. He let me write about my very first day of teaching, too. The day I wondered what in the world I’d gotten myself into and if I’d ever make it out. He posted that piece as well and has shared other things from this site generously and I’m grateful.
Now, he’s challenging me again. Challenging me to set goals just like I did in college. To set goals, to write them down and to work toward them. Professional goals. (Oh, wow. Am I really a professional? Like a grown up?) Maybe I am. So, here goes. I mean, he did tag me. On with the Professional Development Meme.
My Goals
- Write something and submit it for publication. (oh, gosh. what am I saying?)
- Improve grammatical and conversational Spanish.
- Plan and implement guided reading groups.
Directions
Summer can be a great time for professional development. It is an opportunity to learn more about a topic, read a particular work or the works of a particular author, beef up an existing unit of instruction, advance one’s technical skills, work on that advanced degree or certification, pick up a new hobby, and finish many of the other items on our ever-growing To Do Lists. Let’s make Summer 2008 a time when we actually get to accomplish a few of those things and enjoy the thrill of marking them off our lists.
The Rules
- Pick 3 professional development goals and commit to achieving them this summer.
- For the purposes of this activity the end of summer will be Labor Day (09/01/08).
- Post the above directions along with your 3 goals on your blog.
- Title your post Professional Development Meme and link back/trackback to http://clifmims.com/blog/archives/353.
- Use the following tag/ keyword/ category on your post: pdmeme.
- Tag 8 others to participate in the meme.
- Achieve your goals and “develop professionally.”
- Commit to sharing your results on your blog during early or mid-September.
I Tag
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May 28, 2008
The bus picked me up. 7:02. As always. I climbed aboard, sat on the third seat. Left hand side. Music on. Another day. But the ride was different. The view changed. We passed three landslides. Trees uprooted, mud, grass and boulders lying in piles on the street. Houses leaning toward the valley. Their foundations moved toward disaster.
By this afternoon there were so many slides that traffic was rerouted and it took nearly an hour to get home. I found myself near tears at the thought of it. The familiarity of that sliding foundation. That moving earth. The need to reroute and find another way.
See, I think that’s how I ended up in Colombia. I’d settled in, like those houses on the mountainside. I’d found my spot, my secure place and built a house on it. It was comfortable with pretty flower beds and a porch swing and the weather promised all sunny skies ahead.
And then it rained, and rained, and rained. And the ground got muddy and the topsoil slid away, running down Maple Drive toward the point of least resistance. A pile of rocks and plans and dirt lying in the street. My rocks, my plans, my dirt. My shifting foundation.
I stood and stared at the mess for a bit before it came to me. Unsure of what it meant. Hoping it didn’t mean what I thought it meant. But it did. It does. And I’m in the middle of my detour. My way around the landslide. I’m where I’m supposed to be, where God’s called me to be. Among the rubble, the orphaned, the poor. Among the different, the difficult, the strange. Where there are earthquakes and volcanoes and landslides that rock the foundation of this country and wreck my heart for its people. Where my foundation is finally The Rock upon which I stand.
” The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock.”
-Matthew 7:25
Posted in colombia, faith 4 Comments »
May 27, 2008
You know how some things just make you happy? You can’t really explain it, but they do. Like:
- the smell of chlorine
- the school supply aisle
- homemade bread
- clean sheets
- The Grove
- used book stores
- gospel choirs
- Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
- black and white pictures
- hearing kids sing as the sun goes down at camp
- morning runs
- chocolate milk
- paper without lines
- mail, oh how I love mail
So, what’s on your list?
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May 23, 2008
There is a land of dreams far away
Where little girls hide and wander and play
There are jungles and deserts and castles and kings
and rivers and oceans and make believe things.
Like fairies and dragons and witches and beasts
and pageants and balls and grand royal feasts.
You’ll dance and twirl on far away shores
and search for treasures through magical doors.
But you can’t stay forever, only a while.
So dream, my angel. Imagine, my child.
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May 20, 2008
My friend, Kathryn, is obsessed with celebrities and would have zero shame snapping a picture of Brangelina in the French Quarter. Or taking pictures of their house or the building where Maddox goes to school, for that matter. She’d also be shameless about sitting on the front row of an NSync concert as a college student and fighting a bunch of teeny boppers for a sweaty towel that Justin Timberlake threw her way. She might even try to walk an extra time across The Grove in the hopes of glimpsing (and most likely touching) Eli Manning. She’s awesome in that regard, fearless, and I am so not like that. About famous people or people that I think should be famous.
Like Annie.
I stumbled across Annie’s blog sometime last year via my friend Margaret’s site. And I was hooked from day one. She’s well written (always a plus from the grammar nerd) and really stinking funny. And I was star struck. I couldn’t help it. I think I back read everything she’d ever written. I couldn’t help myself. She was honest and real and genuine and brave.
And she still is. And she’s a teacher and she loves her kids as much as I do. You can tell by the way that she writes about them and she’s brave. Did I mention that she’s brave? Because she is. Because she’s taking a step toward her dream. She’s leaving what is comfortable and known and home and she’s moving closer to Christ. And she’s sharing it all on her blog which is incredible and funny and such good writing.
And an additional plus? She’s helping me to be brave, too. I totally pulled a Kathryn and emailed her. (oh. my. word. i’m. such. a. stalker. not. cool. AT. ALL.) And I was like, “you know your sister, Tatum? Well, she was in Ghana with my friend Margaret and Tatum’s friends with Mary Margaret who’s married to James who lives in Zambia and was one of my brother’s biggest college buddies. So, um, we should be best friends. Okay?” And she totally replied and told me that I’m NOT crazy! She so got fifty extra cool points for that.
So, today, I’m thankful for Annie and I’m sharing her (my new best blog friend) with you. Go tell her hello. Or check out some of my recent favorites from her below.
Me, either!
I miss you in moments, too.
Oh, and write something positive about someone and leave it at Brody’s site. Or read something nice about someone you don’t know. It feels good.
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May 20, 2008
I grew up in a little church on a county road in Mississippi. I’d walk over the hill from my aunt’s house with a cold biscuit in my hand and the sound of the organ drifting through the pines. I can still hear Mrs. Dean’s voice ringing rich and sweet through the sanctuary as she sang Just As I Am and the verses of Oh, Victory in Jesus come easily to me even today.
I go to a different church now and the music isn’t the same, but my preacher likes old hymns and Russ inevitably plays Will The Circle Be Unbroken when he picks up his guitar. And those precious songs are still my favorites.
My heart swells with the chorus of How Great Thou Art and tears find their way to me at the very thought of The King is Coming being played by Mrs. Regina on an old piano in that Baptist church of my youth.
I longed for those hymns yesterday sparked, I suppose, by reading Johnny Cash’s autobiography. His stories sounded much like those of my family’s and their growing up in the South. Stories of his mother singing hymns in the kitchen and on porches and in cotton fields.
Thank you, Lord, for sweet gospel music.
One of Cash’s recordings of another favorite hymn of mine. Enjoy.
Farther Along
What’s your favorite hymn?
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May 16, 2008
Dear Emily,
Yes, I know Pontotoc is small and you feel trapped sometimes, but don’t be in a hurry. There’s a great big world out there and you’re going to see a lot of it, I promise.
For now, take a deep breath and listen to me!
Don’t drive so fast down Longview Road, and wave at Mrs. Simon when you run by Michael’s. Don’t hold hands in high school. It’s corny. Have honest conversations. Wear more red. You’ll get black into your wardrobe soon enough. Your affection is a treasure. Give it to your dad.
Your heart’s going to be shattered more than once, but you’re so very much stronger than you think you are. Embrace the hurt. The memories of it are going to help you heal eventually.
Keep running. Run fast and with purpose. If you quit, it’s really hard to start again. Trust me. One step after the other and run for you. Not to chase whims or to get away from uncertainty. Run to be healthy and strong and to have time for yourself.
Don’t try and do it all. You don’t have to be in every club or at every social event. The most important relationship you’re building right now is the one with Jesus. Let Him be the one that hears your cries.
And for heaven’s sake, don’t cry so much! You don’t have to! You’re stronger than that and all the things that people say now are just going to get worse, but you’re going to know who you are and you’re going to be proud of her someday. So, move on! Forget the people that guess and judge and condemn. Be real with your mom, be real with Jesus, and let the masses think what they may. Who really cares anyway? Hello! You live in a town of 5,000. Great big world, remember?
Hang out with your grandmothers more. Yes, I know you see them all the time, but really spend time with them. Pick strawberries with Mamaw and let her teach you to sew and quilt and can tomatoes. Help her rake her yard and walk to baseball games with her. Go to yard sales with Gran and sit on the swing with her. And don’t roll your eyes when she talks about all the traffic on Highway 6. Write down the stories that she tells you, watch her cook biscuits, and let her show you how to make paper dolls.
Never, ever say the word “diet.” It’s of the devil. You look great in jeans and in your swimsuit. I promise. Sweetheart, you’re going to miss size 8s and cross-back guard suits. So, go easy on the chocolate milk and remember that part about running? Yeah, keep at it.
Read all the books that Mrs. Rutledge suggests. Any woman with kids your age that has a cool haircut like hers, knows good literature. And when Mrs. Crane asks you to write creatively, do it. Look at all of her pictures of Eudora Welty and throw caution to the wind! Write without shame or fear, but don’t take her French class. You’re not going to France.
And dance more in streets with your best friend and sing more with William and write more poetry and live more for you and stay home more with your Mom and Dad, they’re really stinking cool even if you don’t know it yet. And they’re the best example you’re going to see of what family is.
You’ll really miss it all. That little town and all the people in it. So, take notes. Take pictures. Be brave. Be reckless. Don’t be tied down. Don’t be so sensitive. Stand up for yourself. Say, “no” sometimes. Eat the lemon pie at Paul and Bonnie’s. Save some money, but don’t work so much. Listen to Coach Bain and trust his judgement. Always carry chapstick. Take your piano lessons seriously. And enjoy it all. You’ll never get it back. Not like it was.
And someday, like when you’re 27 or so, you’re going to wish you could write yourself a note.
Hang in there,
An older you
What would you write to your sixteen year old self?
Posted in Uncategorized 14 Comments »
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