Ode to the Christmas Card

I love Christmas cards - sending and receiving them. I get so excited when I open our mailbox and see the envelopes that I know contain Christmas cards. I hurry inside the house to look at them. I note the return address (love the holiday return address labels), the shiny seals on the back, and holiday stamps. I very carefully open them, admire the cover and read the verses to JC. I always display our cards. I place them all around the house - on the credenza, the mantle, and hang them from card holders on the backs of doors.
Everyone has their own taste in cards. I love red and green ones. I hunt through every shelf at Hallmark each year to find the perfect cards. Some people choose the snow scenes. I received one this year from my friend, Renelle, that is a blue and white snow scene. I received another that looks like a gingerbread house and one that is just a red door. Many people choose the traditional Nativity or Mother and Child covers. Still others choose the family picture which can later be placed in the photo album. I love them all and I look at them often during the holidays.
I send out around 30 cards each year. I sometimes write them out in early November and place them in a basket until it's time to mail them. I check the USPS website to see what the new holiday stamp choices are. This year I wasn't too happy with the designs. I let JC pick and he chose the ones with the Christmas ornaments. We get return address labels with Christmas clip art and I joyfully stick them on my envelopes.

I also enjoy the e-cards and we get a lot of laughs from the funnier ones and we enjoy the ones that play music - but they will never replace the real card. I think it says something to get a card that someone had to take the time to buy and sit down at their table and actually sign their names.

Each year that I've lost a loved one and that Christmas card that I used to get doesn't come, it makes me sad. I will get out the last one that I received from them and set it up along with the new ones.

I hope I never lose my love of sending and receiving Christmas cards and I hope it brings a smile to the faces of those who receive mine.

Setting the Record Straight

Teachers have been in the news a lot lately. NBC hosts Education Nation and there has been a lot of discussion about the so called "failing schools" and the new Trigger Law. We've seen video of picket lines and heard people "bashing" schools and teachers. Frankly, I'm sick of it and I need to vent.

In 2001 the No Child Left Behind Act was passed. It was proposed by then President George Bush. Here is a summary of what it's about. (If you can read and understand it - thank an elementary teacher that busted her butt to teach you reading comprehension).

No Child Left Behind Act
The No Child Left Behind Act of 2001, also known as “NCLB” is a US federal law that was originally proposed by President George W. Bush in 2001. The legislation funds a number of federal programs aiming at improving the performance of U.S. schools by increasing the standards of accountability for states, school districts, and schools, as well as providing parents more flexibility in choosing which schools their children will attend. Additionally, it promotes an increased focus on reading and math.
The intent of NCLB is that all children will meet state academic achievement standards to reach their full potential through improved programs. The funding is divided into several areas, known as titles. In 2008, OCVTS received funding in support of these titles:
•
Title I, Part A supports programs and resources for disadvantaged students. Title 1A funding is designed to aid districts in closing the achievement gap by placing highly qualified teachers in classrooms.
•
Title 1, Part D is designed to serve delinquent and neglected youth in institutions, day programs, and correctional facilities to assure they attain high academic levels of achievement.
•
Title II, Part A provides resources for improving teacher and principal quality. It focuses on preparing, training, and recruiting high-quality teachers and principals.
•
Title II, Part D facilitates improved student academic achievement through the use of technology in the schools.
•
Title IV, Part A provides resources for fostering a safe and drug-free learning environment that supports academic achievement.
To read more about NCLB including a complete description of all titles, please visit the NJ Department of Education at http://www.state.nj.us/education/grants/nclb/ or view the US Department of Education’s parent’s guide at http://www.ed.gov/parents/academic/involve/nclbguide/parentsguide.pdf.
Title I
No Child Left Behind Act
Title I ("Title One") of the Federal Elementary and Secondary Education Act (now known as No Child Left Behind Act) is a set of programs set up by the United States Department of Education to distribute funding to schools and school districts with students from low-income families.
Title 1, Part A funds enable schools to provide opportunities, programs, and resources for disadvantaged students to help them achieve state academic achievement standards. Some services funded through Title 1, Part A include:
•
Placing a highly qualified teacher in every classroom
•
Improving the qualifications of paraprofessionals
•
Develop effective instructional practices and materials
•
Professional development for teachers
•
Parent involvement activities
It also allows military recruiters access to 11th and 12th grade students' names, addresses, and telephone listings when requested.
***********************************************************************************

This act mandates that teachers teach to a set of standards, both national and state, and some schools even create their own set. The students then are tested yearly over these standards. The bar gets raised each year so it is more difficult to meet the standards. Why? The entire student population is tested - those with developmental issues, learning disabled, students that English is their second language and so on.

The standards are broad. My seventh grade standards have 135 learner expectations and the 8th graders 130. That' s a lot of material to cover each year. Do we master all of them? No. It isn't possible to master that much at this grade level. It is simply put "a flawed system."

Teachers take the standards and we create curriculum guides and pacing guides. We have vertical alignment teams to ensure that no standard is overlooked K-12. We try to choose lessons and assignments that cover more than one standard at a time. We do every thing that we can to make sure the students get what they need to be successful.

And it's not just the teacher's "job" to teach children - you have to have parental support and involvement. When parents complain that the teachers are assigning too much homework and that it's too hard, the message is being sent to the students that you don't have to work hard to achieve. Many times parents don't understand that school districts have policies that dictate how much homework is to be assigned. Or you may have an administrator that feels 3-5 assignments per week is required. Homework is reinforcement for what the child learned in class. It's also a gauge for the teacher to determine if the class can move on or needs to stay on the topic for another day or so. Teachers don't like grading homework any more than students like completing it. I grade every night for 2 to 3 hours and on weekends. I make lesson plans, type tests, lab reports, etc. at home. There's no time during the school day. Teachers have hall duty, bus duty, study hall duty, teachers meetings, parent conferences, club meetings.....during their "spare time."

Teachers also give up their time before and after school and weekends to sponsor clubs. I get paid the whopping sum of $200 per year to sponsor the Junior High Science Club. We stay after school 4 days a month for Junk Box Wars, 2 days a year we have a trash pickup (after school), we stay after school to prepare for the Science Olympiad, which is held 100 miles away on a Saturday, we hold fund raisers, and on and on. My point is - it's certainly not the money. It's the teachers' commitment to the students and the school. Last Saturday I saw a teacher (friend and former classmate) with her students picking up the trash at Turkey Trot. Do you think that's how she wanted to spend her day? No - she did it for the kids and the school.

And let's talk about money. I teach in one of the lowest paying schools in Missouri and probably the nation. I don't do this for the money, obviously, I do it because I love the kids. Teachers spend hundreds of dollars out of their own pockets each year for school supplies. I never go to Walmart that I don't have school "stuff" in my cart. Today it will be vinegar and spaghetti for a lab, post it notes, cookies and koolaid for my Science Club students to have when they stay after school this week. We get a paltry $400 deduction on our taxes for this - but that isn't a "drop in the bucket." We spend many $$$ on workshops registration fees and online classes to fulfill the professional development requirements mandated by the NCLB act. Arkansas teachers now have to pay $100 to renew their teaching certificats, that we spent $1000s of dollars on college to achieve. We use our own money to buy some kid's lunches, pay their admission to plays, pay for a club tee shirt. We stay after to school to stuff backpacks with nonperishable food for kids who don't get proper meals at home. We humble ourselves to ask for donations from the local businesses to help with funding.

Another thing that many parents don't realized. Teachers are observed by their administrators and evaluated yearly. The principals know how effective the teachers are. Our observations in Missouri are video taped and put on file with the state department of education. The principals sit down with the teachers and review the tapes noting both your strong and weak areas. Our principals also do unannounced 5 minute walk throughs to monitor teachers. We are not free to "do as we please" in the classroom.

Teachers post grades online and most every school has some type of Parent Portal that allows parents to go online and check the child's grade and see if all assignments are turned in. We post our daily assignments on line (many times attaching a copy of the worksheet) so parents can see what their child's assignment is. We attach online books so that they have a book to use if they forget their textbook at school We post test dates and attach study guides to our webpages for both parents and students. We offer a workshop each year to teach parents how to use the Parent Portal and the teacher webpages, but attendance is usually low. It's too easy to send the teacher a snarky e-mail or note demanding to know why their child's grade is low.

We will have parent teacher conferences next week and if the past trend continues, I will have about 20% turnout, usually the parents of the children who are doing well.

The bottom line is this. If your child isn't performing well, come to school and talk to the teachers. Ask what you can do as a parent to help because I assure you, the teachers and the school are already doing their part.

Respectfully,
A very tired and stressed out junior high teacher.

Small Town America Where Everybody Knows Your Name

I was born and raised WAY out in the country.  When we said that we were going "to town" we meant Yellville, AR.  It is the county seat and the largest "town" in the county.  It is where we went to school, after riding the bus for more than an hour each way.  It's a small town and just like any other small town everybody knows everybody, or is kin to half of them.

Growing up in such a small town everybody gripes about everybody knowing your business.  I imagine it's that way in every small town.  As a  kid I would tell myself that I couldn't wait to get away from that place.  I wanted to go where nobody knew me or my business.  That never happened.  Except for my college years I've lived in or near small towns.  Life is funny.  I'm now 56 and find myself living WAY out in the country once again.  The kids that live out here board the bus at 6:30 am to make it to school by eight.  Everybody here pretty much knows everybody or is kin to half of them.  Our nearest town is Gainesville, Missouri, the county seat and largest town in the county.  Now instead of going to school there, I teach there.  So it seems, I haven't changed my life a whole lot.  Is that fate or is it a decision that I've made? I don't know but it probably says a lot about my small town roots.

People in small towns do know a lot about everybody's business.  They know who lives where, where they work, go to church, shop, bank, and what kind of life they live.  We can get frustrated about it but it also has its merits.  Those same people know when you need their help, their friendship or support.  Over the years, regardless of which small town I lived in, I've seen pie and cake auctions, fish frys, and benefit tournaments of all kinds held to help someone in need.  I've seen neighbors and friends just show up to help a farmer get his hay in or take care of other chores because there was an illness or injury.  I've seen envelopes with money quietly slipped to someone in need.  This is what people in small towns do.  They look out for one another.  Yes they may know things you don't want them to know but it's good when they know things that they need to.

Today I went "down home" to Turkey Trot.  It's always the same and sometimes I will think about skipping it.  But I'm usually glad that I didn't.  So many times today as my sister, Judith, and I were walking around or sitting on the courthouse fence, countless people said to us "Well there's the Ott girls." or "How are the Ott girls doing?"  And they would ask "Where's your Mom?" or "Is your Mom doing OK?"  Because that's just what small town people do.

Kitchen Bouquet and Bacon Grease

I guess I never thought about how much  I post about eating and cooking on Facebook until one day a friend of mine said "You and your husband sure are country."  I guess I must have looked a little offended because she quickly added "The food you cook and eat - it's always country."  At first I was still a little offended but after I had to time to think about it I decided that it was my kitchen and I'd cook country if I wanted to.

We all come from different walks of life and although we change as our lives change I think most of us stay pretty close to our roots.  I grew up on a farm in a country home.  We made a big garden, picked berries, picked up walnuts and pecans, milked cows and churned our own butter.  Paula Deen would have been in Heaven at our house.  Everything was battered and fried or cooked down slow and seasoned with bacon grease or butter.  We lived with my Granny Ott until I was in the 7th grade and I loved coming home from school and smelling brown beans cooking on the stove and finding that she had made egg noodles.  I learned to cook those kinds of foods and never really saw a reason to change much.  Yes, I've added a few "new" foods and recipes as the years have gone by and I'm not scared to cook for people that I don't know - but my favorite is country food.

Last weekend I made pot roast with carrots and potatoes.  No I didn't add any red wine but I did make brown gravy with my trusty bottle of Kitchen Bouquet.  I don't steam and make sauces for squash and other vegetables - I usually flour them or coat them with cornmeal and fry them in bacon grease that I keep in Mason jars in my fridge.  I make cakes and pies from scratch.  When we get a sweet tooth I can usually go to the pantry and come up with the right ingredients to make a treat.

I'm not opposed to going out to dinner at a fine dining restaurant.  I occasionally like to pull out one of my little black dresses and have a nice dinner.  But that's the exception rather than the rule.  I enjoy going to more casual restaurants too but I just tend to mainly cook at home.  Partly because we live so far out in the country and partly because I enjoy cooking for JC and family.  It gives me a sense of satisfaction to see my husband and family enjoying a meal that I've cooked.

I may someday need to have heart bypass surgery to repair my clogged arteries from all that fried stuff but Granny lived to be in her 90s so I'm optimistic.  And to those who call me country, that's just fine.  Country  is what I am.

A Serendipitous Vacation

I love a serendipitous discovery! It’s so exciting to pick out an unfamiliar book that turns out to be such a good read that I can’t put it down. I just had a serendipitous experience while visiting Sioux Falls, South Dakota. JC and I went to visit his sister, LaVerna and her husband, Howard, who had recently relocated there. JC’s cousin, Mary and her husband, Bob had moved to Sioux Falls a few years ago and LaVerna and Howard visited them, fell in love with the area, and chose to move there as well.

I remember wondering why JC’s family members had chosen to move to Sioux Falls. We have traveled to Western South Dakota to see the Badlands, the Black Hills and Mount Rushmore so my image of Sioux Falls was biased. I had visions of a small, western town filled with trucks, farmers, and ranchers (not being critical here). I was so wrong. Sioux Falls is a mid-western town of 180,000. It is the largest town in South Dakota. Larger than the capital, Pierre, which they pronounce Pier not Pea Air, as I had mistakenly pronounced all my life when reciting the states and capitals.

But I digress – Sioux Falls is filled with fun things to see and do. First thing to see is Falls Park where the Big Sioux River cascades over red quartz (jasper). The park is gorgeous and the first night there I commented that I would imagine there are lots of senior pictures, engagement and wedding pictures were taken there. That thought was confirmed a couple of days later when we were there and saw a bride and groom taking their place in front of the falls for pictures. I’m “birdwaking” again, back to my story. There is a laser light show each night at 9:30 with narration that tells the history of Sioux Falls. I was so impressed looking around at all the families sitting on blankets or in lawn chairs watching the show. There were people just out walking the park and enjoying the nice weather. I learned later that Sioux Falls has around 20 parks. We drove by several and they were all well-kept, beautiful parks and there were always families and couples picnicking or walking. There is a park with an amphitheater where plays and music events are held.

There are pieces of sculpture all around the city. They are made my local artists and placed on big blocks of red quartz. Residents vote on the best sculpture and then the city buys them and places them in their permanent collection. Downtown Sioux Falls is bustling at night with people eating and drinking at outdoor cafes and bistros. The downtown area has been well maintained. There are no boarded up buildings or structures left to ruin. The flowers and grass are beautiful - I suppose because they don’t get fried by the hot sun. There are several museums to visit and several colleges in town. There was even an Andy Warhol exhibit going on at a pavilion. Every day there are activities. No one should be bored there.

There is a small lake, called Catfish Bay, where nightly water shows are performed and in the winter you can take advantage of Great Bear Snow Park to ski, snow board and tube. Winter doesn’t slow the people of Sioux Falls – they just transition from summer sports to winter sports. While visiting a motorcycle shop I asked why all the motorcycle helmets were on sale and the sales person told me that it was time to clear the shelves to put out the snow machine helmets. “Winter is just around the corner,” she said. We were also surprised to learn that you can drive four-wheelers on the roads along with the cars. And everywhere we went people would say “it sure is a scorcher out today.” (It was in the low 80s). Of course when it’s 30 below in the winter they are comfortable and I would be trying to get warm.

There are a couple of wineries in the area which surprised me. Living in Missouri I’m used to all the grape varieties and I hadn’t seen any vineyards. While grocery shopping at the local HyVee I checked out the South Dakota wine selection. The wines are made from elderberry, chokeberry, strawberries, rhubarb and pears. We attended a wine tasting at the Straw Bale winery and tasted the local wines. I guess my palette isn’t sophisticated enough to enjoy the non-grape varieties, but it was a fun experience.

Sioux Falls has lots of flea markets, antique stores and goodwill type stores. Some are neat and orderly and some are so full you can barely move. JC and I love to antique so we enjoyed digging for great finds. I found a piece of Metroiska (Russian nesting dolls), that I didn’t have in my collection and we also added a small wooden boat with oars and great detail to our collection of little canoes and boats. The good will stores turned up a brand new with tags Stearns life jacket and denim jacket for me. We didn’t have time to go to all the flea markets and I was in sensory overload by the end of our stay anyway.

Sioux Falls is about 50 miles from Mitchell, the home of the Corn Palace. This is a must see for anyone visiting the area. The Palace is changed each year and all the design is made completely of corn. It is amazing to think that all the beautiful pictures are corn cobs…and speaking of corn, we went to the Sioux Falls Farmers Market. It was filled with all kinds of produce, some things I had never seen before, baked goods, flowers, meats and even a coffee booth.

I could go on and on. ..but if you get the chance to visit Sioux Falls it would be worth your time. The winters are harsh and I don’t know that I would be able to live there but my hat is off to those who do. My image of the dusty little western town was shattered and replaced with a clean, culturally diverse, pride filled city. Just like that good book that I can’t put down, I’m not “through with” Sioux Falls. There is still so much left for me to see and experience, so for now I will just mark the page and come back when I have more time.

A Serendipitous Vacation

I love a serendipitous discovery! It’s so exciting to pick out an unfamiliar book that turns out to be such a good read that I can’t put it down. I just had a serendipitous experience while visiting Sioux Falls, South Dakota. JC and I went to visit his sister, LaVerna and her husband, Howard, who had recently relocated there. JC’s cousin, Mary and her husband, Bob had moved to Sioux Falls a few years ago and LaVerna and Howard visited them, fell in love with the area, and chose to move there as well.

I remember wondering why JC’s family members had chosen to move to Sioux Falls. We have traveled to Western South Dakota to see the Badlands, the Black Hills and Mount Rushmore so my image of Sioux Falls was biased. I had visions of a small, western town filled with trucks, farmers, and ranchers (not being critical here). I was so wrong. Sioux Falls is a mid-western town of 180,000. It is the largest town in South Dakota. Larger than the capital, Pierre, which they pronounce Pier not Pea Air, as I had mistakenly pronounced all my life when reciting the states and capitals.

But I digress – Sioux Falls is filled with fun things to see and do. First thing to see is Falls Park where the Big Sioux River cascades over red quartz (jasper). The park is gorgeous and the first night there I commented that I would imagine there are lots of senior pictures, engagement and wedding pictures were taken there. That thought was confirmed a couple of days later when we were there and saw a bride and groom taking their place in front of the falls for pictures. I’m “birdwaking” again, back to my story. There is a laser light show each night at 9:30 with narration that tells the history of Sioux Falls. I was so impressed looking around at all the families sitting on blankets or in lawn chairs watching the show. There were people just out walking the park and enjoying the nice weather. I learned later that Sioux Falls has around 20 parks. We drove by several and they were all well-kept, beautiful parks and there were always families and couples picnicking or walking. There is a park with an amphitheater where plays and music events are held.

There are pieces of sculpture all around the city. They are made my local artists and placed on big blocks of red quartz. Residents vote on the best sculpture and then the city buys them and places them in their permanent collection. Downtown Sioux Falls is bustling at night with people eating and drinking at outdoor cafes and bistros. The downtown area has been well maintained. There are no boarded up buildings or structures left to ruin. The flowers and grass are beautiful - I suppose because they don’t get fried by the hot sun. There are several museums to visit and several colleges in town. There was even an Andy Warhol exhibit going on at a pavilion. Every day there are activities. No one should be bored there.

There is a small lake, called Catfish Bay, where nightly water shows are performed and in the winter you can take advantage of Great Bear Snow Park to ski, snow board and tube. Winter doesn’t slow the people of Sioux Falls – they just transition from summer sports to winter sports. While visiting a motorcycle shop I asked why all the motorcycle helmets were on sale and the sales person told me that it was time to clear the shelves to put out the snow machine helmets. “Winter is just around the corner,” she said. We were also surprised to learn that you can drive four-wheelers on the roads along with the cars. And everywhere we went people would say “it sure is a scorcher out today.” (It was in the low 80s). Of course when it’s 30 below in the winter they are comfortable and I would be trying to get warm.

There are a couple of wineries in the area which surprised me. Living in Missouri I’m used to all the grape varieties and I hadn’t seen any vineyards. While grocery shopping at the local HyVee I checked out the local wine selection. The wines are made from elderberry, chokeberry, strawberries, rhubarb and pears. We attended a wine tasting at the Straw Bale winery and tasted the local wines. I guess my palette isn’t sophisticated enough to enjoy the non-grape varieties, but it was a fun experience.

Sioux Falls has lots of flea markets, antique stores and goodwill type stores. Some of neat and orderly and some are so full you can barely move. JC and I love to antique so we enjoyed digging for great finds. I found a piece of Metroiska (Russian nesting dolls), that I didn’t have in my collection and we also added a small wooden boat with oars and great detail to our collection of little canoes and boats. The good will stores turned up a brand new with tags Stearns life jacket and denim jacket for me. We didn’t have time to go to all the flea markets and I was in sensory overload by the end of our stay anyway.

Sioux Falls is about 50 miles from Mitchell, the home of the Corn Palace. This is a must see for anyone visiting the area. The Palace is changed each year and all the design is made completely of corn. It is amazing to think that all the beautiful pictures are corn cobs…and speaking of corn. We went to the Sioux Falls Farmers Market. It was filled with all kinds of produce, some things I had never seen before, baked goods, flowers, meats and even a coffee booth.

I could go on and on. ..but if you get the chance to visit Sioux Falls it would be worth your time. The winters are harsh and I don’t know that I would be able to live there but my hat is off to those who do. My image of the dusty little western town was shattered and replaced with a clean, culturally diverse, pride filled city. Just like that good book that I can’t put down, I’m not “through with” Sioux Falls. There is still so much left for me to see and experience, so far now I will just mark the page and come back when I have more time.

The Yearly Vacation

It's that time again - the yearly vacation. Time to pack, plan the route, service the car..... We never sleep well the night before we leave so we usually get up in the wee morning hours and take off on another big adventure.

This year we're headed to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We've been to western South Dakota to Mt. Rushmore and the Badlands (in the days before GPS and we got lost) but we've never been to eastern South Dakota. JC's sister, LaVerna and husband Howard, recently relocated there so I figured we should go check out this area.

This was my year to pick where we vacation. This is the situation; I love the cold climates and JC loves the hot, sunny areas. To make things fair we alternate years. Last year we went to Amelia Island, Florida. The Gulf Oil spill had messed up his favorite Alabama beach so we headed to the Atlantic side of Florida. JC, the beach bum, was in heaven while I however was not. I like the beach but I don't like the sand that accumulates in everything, carting the big beach umbrella (with UV protection), the chairs, towels, cooler, etc. to the beach, watching for jelly fish and SHARKS! But, I can't complain - it was his year to pick.

Our first real vacation was to Wyoming to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. It was the first week of June and when we got there it had snowed heavily, some places got 3 feet. JC shivered and shook and was miserable for much of that trip. He loved the gorgeous scenery and the wildlife, but not the cold temps. But that trip was nothing compared to the summer we went to Alaska. This was a self guided tour that took us to the Bering Sea, the Arctic Ocean then back down to Denali. It sleeted and snowed (in mid July) while we were at the Arctic and a cold rain fell for much of the trip to Denali and Anchorage. Then another summer I dragged him to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where the temps dropped to the 40s and we had to buy sweatshirts and the mosquitoes had just hatched out so we had to buy insect repellent. There was a big fireplace in the lodge and JC huddled next to the fire while I happily checked out the scenery and took pictures.

So here we are again heading north but luckily for JC the heat wave has hit South Dakota so I doubt we will be buying sweatshirts. The thrill of the pre-Sturgis rally and has him all excited and he hasn't complained much about trip.

Next year I'm sure we will be headed south - I've already seen him on the internet checking out beach cottages on Dauphin Island. He is visualizing long, sunny days and I can feel the sand in the sheets already.

W.W.R.C.D.?

What would Rachel Carson Do? I can’t say for sure but I think she would speak out on this matter.

One July 27, 2011 the Arkansas Oil and Gas Commission voted to shut down injection wells in the areas of Arkansas that are prone to earthquakes. After reading the announcement I did the “happy dance” in my living room. I had been anxiously awaiting the ruling and hoped it would go this way. Why do I care? I don’t live in Faulkner, White or Cleburne county. I don’t even live in Arkansas. I care because I’m a native Arkansan and love my home state. I care because I am concerned about the environment and what gas drilling is doing to Arkansas.

To understand all this you need to know about the Fayetteville Shale. It’s a layer of shale that holds natural gas deposits, not flowing reservoirs, but drops of gas locked in this fine grained shale. The Fayetteville Shale is a strip that stretches from near Fort Smith to around Little Rock. It is ranges from 50 to 550 feet in thickness is found anywhere from 1500 feet to 6500 feet deep. It formed during the Mississippian age as dead plants and animals became compacted. It has long been known about the gas deposits but there wasn’t a practical way to extract the gas. It wasn’t until the development of hydraulic fracturing that the removal of the shale gas deposits became feasible. Hydraulic fracturing, also known as hydrofracking or fracking, is performed by drilling a well vertically first then a horizontal well is drilled into the lower portion of the shale. Then, high pressure fracking liquids are injected to fracture the shale and extract the gas. Fracking chemicals are also used in the drilling process to reduce friction. There are over 500 chemicals in fracking fluids and by the passage of the 2005 Bush/Cheney Energy Bill (Halliburton Loophole) of the Safe Drinking Water Act, these chemicals didn’t have to be released to the public. Recently that law was modified and all but 62 chemicals must be release to the public. These 62 are considered trade secrets. That sends a big red flag up for me. We’re not making a secret recipe food here.

There are 10 gallons of waste water produced for each gallon of gas produced. A single frack can use between 1 and 8 million gallons of water and a well can be fracked up to 18 times. Not all this waste water comes back up. Around 20 percent of the chemical laden fracking water stays in the ground. The remaining water is put into storage ponds that are “supposed” to be lined to prevent leakage into the ground water. A second well, called an injection well, is drilled down below the area where the source of drinking water is located and above the fracking area. This waste water is pressure injected back into the ground for disposal. These injection wells are believed to have been the cause of the recent earthquakes in and around Faulkner County.

But earthquakes, serious as they are, are not the only issue at hand here. The fracking fluids are “allegedly” contaminating drinking water wells, creeks, and other bodies of water. Residents have reported water that is discolored (I’ve seen it), and has a foul smell. There are creeks in the Booneville, AR area that have visible petroleum residues and reddish substances in them. Tar looking water flows from some of the drinking wells in that part of the state. Other than water contamination and scarring of the land, is air quality. While waiting to inject waste water the water is placed in holding ponds and tanks and left to evaporate, releasing the chemicals into the air. A buildup of ozone is the result. Yes, we need the ozone layer, but we don’t need ozone in the Troposphere. It causes and exacerbates respiratory problems. We now have ozone alerts occasionally in central Arkansas.

I could go on and on but I think you get the idea. While I’m happy about the ruling, there are still problems. With this ruling the waste water will be trucked to other parts of the state that are not earthquake prone or to other states. While we may be moving it from one “backyard”, it will be going to someone else’s. Then there is the wear and tear on our roads as the trucks move millions of gallons of water to the new disposal sites.

What’s the solution? I don’t know. Like everyone else, I live a lifestyle that is made possible by the use of petroleum products. If we could find a way to extract the gas deposits (we could drill for the next 60 years before all the Fayetteville Shale deposits are exhausted) and not contaminate, it would be wonderful. Also, in the defense of the gas wells – is that their income is supposed to keep Arkansas recession proof. As of a few weeks ago (I haven’t checked lately), Arkansas was 6^th in the nation for the amount of surplus funds.

I hope an answer comes in the near future. I’m just one person who never intended to become an environmental activist. I will never be a Rachel Carson. I think that if I do nothing else, I can increase awareness of this issue. Look around you. Do you enjoy your clean air, good water and beautiful landscape? If you do, do your part to make sure it stays that way. If you get a chance, drive through a drilling area and look around. What you see will shock you and make you feel violated. Look at the creeks in central Arkansas and then imagine them as Crooked Creek, Mill Creek, Water Creek, Clabber Creek or Blue John. Not a good image. Think about all the times that you went to play in the creek in the hot summer or went to get crawdads or minnows to go fishing. Think how, we as kids, lay down on our bellies and drank out of the creek, never worrying about anything more than a cow upstream.

I've never wanted to be a trouble maker, whistle blower, or even do anything to call attention to myself - but the gas drilling in Arkansas has made me change how I look at life. I hope you will take the time to increase your awareness of what is going on here.

Conversations With Lily

I just spent the last five days in McKinney, Texas visiting with my daughter, Misty's, family. Drew is 12 and still had school, Lily is 5, and Reid is 3. Lily is just beginning to ask a lot of questions and she and I spent a lot of time together, even sharing her bedroom, so she had the opportunity to ask me a lot of "stuff."
First question was "Nana, where is Papa?"
Nana: "He had to work and couldn't come."
Lily: "Oh. That makes me sad. Let's call him." So we did. Next Lily moved on to a lot more questions.
Lily: "Nana. Do flies have Mommies?"
Nana: "Yes Lily they do."
Lily: "Which ones are the Mommies?"
Nana: "I don't know Lily. They all look alike to me."
Lily: "How do the baby flies know which ones are their Mommies?"
Nana: "They just do Lily." (cop out answer)
Lily: "Do those birds have babies?"
Nana: "I imagine they do."
Lily: "Where do their babies live?"
Nana: "In a nest up in a tree?"
Lily: "Why can't I see them?"
Nana" "Because the Mommy bird hides her nest so nothing gets the baby birds."
Lily: "If they want to hide why do they go chirp chirp tweet tweet?" (hmm good question)
I avoided that last question but Lily moved on.
Lily: "How many legs do spiders have?"
Nana: "Eight." (I'm feeling confident now)
Lily: "Nana, how does Hello Kitty eat her apples if she doesn't have a mouth?"
Nana: "Lily, Hello Kitty is just pretend so we will just pretend she eats her apples."
Lily: "Oh OK."
Lily's list of questions went on and on and I tried to answer her 5 yearold's questions as best I could. I know that some day Lily may not ask me childlike questions any more. It will make me sad when she grows up so I cherish the time I spent with her this past week.

Decoration Day

Next Monday is Decoration Day at the Ott Cemetery. I will be in Texas visiting my kids and grandkids so I will be going out to decorate graves next weekend. I bought flowers today.

Back when I was a kid, Decoration Day(s) was a big event. We have family at the Ott, Cowan, Pleasant Ridge, Fairvew and Flippin Cemeteries (and a few more). But the Decoration Day that I most remember is the one held at the Ott cemetery. We all got new clothes because people dressed up for Decoration back then. My Granny Ott often wore a hat.

Lots of people came to the Ott Decoration. I would see cousins that I didn't see very often. Like us, they would all be dressed up. It's always windy at the Ott. Even on the hottest day a breeze will be blowing there. After cleaning and decorating graves we would have "dinner on the ground." Everyone would bring food and come down to our house and we would eat.

It's an old cemetery with several graves. There are 5 generations of my family buried there. Not just Otts - my Granny's Bundy family is buried there too. My Granny had a sister named Mahlia Melvina who died at a young age. I used to wish my name was Mahlia and I would wonder what she looked like. Iwould look at the graves of my Ott great-great grandparents, John and Sarah, and wonder about them. They were the first Otts to live here and homestead the farm. There's been much discussion over the years about Sarah. She is a mystery to us.

There are several other graves that I used to really wonder about. A young Kaler girl, who's family put stones around her grave so it wouldn't be lost. And the many baby graves used to worry me. Now I think of those who have been put there in my lifetime...my Daddy, Granny, Aunt Opal and favorite cousin, Earlene, my nephews, David and Ronny.

Decoration Day isn't what it used to be. It's becoming a dying custom. Now people just come and go as they wish to decorate and some cemeteries don't allow deocrating at all. The headstones must be flat and only a small vase for flowers is allowed. That seems very sad too me. I hope that never happens at the Ott cemetery. It's a beautiful place and anyone is welcome there to visit or to be buried there. We're still "country" enough to hold to old fashioned Decoration Day.

Branching Out

Last night I had the honor of speaking to the Flippin Graduating Class of 2011. I taught these students when they were in the 7th and 8th grade. Every few years in a teacher's career a bond will be forged between a class and teacher. There was an immediate bond between this class and me. Some of my fondest memories as an educator have come from the time that I spent with these students.

They had asked me to speak at their graduation back when they were sophomores and I honestly figured that they would forget about me since I no longer taught at Flippin. Back in October I got a call from the senior class sponsor and she told me that I had been voted as their commencement speaker. I didn't take this responsibility lightly - in fact I saw it as one of the biggest challenges that I have faced as an educator. I wanted to make sure that I got it right.

As teachers, we sometimes forget that everything that we say and do is making an impact on students. I try to stay conscious of what I say and the tone with which I say it. Every day I tell myself to remember to guard my tongue and my actions. I never realized how much of what I had said and done was being "absorbed" by those middle school kids. As I sat down to put on paper what I wanted to say, a flood of emotions ran through my head. This was a large class, by Flippin standards, but I could tell you something about each one of those kids. I wanted to be able to write a speech that made each of them feel that I had written it just for them. I hope I was able to do that.

This morning those kids are alumni. No more will they walk the halls of Flippin School as students. That safety net that comes from being part of a group is weakened now. That feeling of belonging and being in a safe, familiar place is altered now. They will all go their separate ways and develop into their own unique individual adult personalities. They will come together again for reunions, but it will never be the same.

I hope the things that I chose to say will help them a little along their journey. I want the best for each of them. I wish they would never stumble or feel inadequate but I know that they will.

The them for my speech was the same as the title of my blog spot; "Don't Be Afraid to Climb on the Skinny Branches." I hope that they climb as high on the tree of opportunity as they can. And I hope they enjoy the view from atop those skinny branches.

"Mom, You're addicted to exercise."

I just read a friend's blog about her exercise routine and as I was writing comments on her blog I began to think about my past 34 years as a regular exerciser.

How do I know it's been 34 years? That's how old Ryan is. I was skinny when I got pregnant with Ryan. I weighed in at 118 the day I found out I was pregnant (I'm 5'7") and I got down to 105 for a time after he was born (I was anemic), but after I got well I gained back up to my normal weight. Though I was still on the low side of the height/weight chart I looked flabby around the middle and my thighs jiggled. I had never really had a formal exercise routine so I didn't know where to start. Enter my sister-in-law (now ex - but that's another story). She was a jogger. I had never known anyone who jogged and I was a bit curious so I took her up on her offer to jog with her. What an eye-opener! I barely made it to the end of the block and I was only 21 years old! I kept on trying and added a few calisthenics that I remembered from high school PE and pretty soon I was hooked. I graduated to fitness tapes - not made for the tv, back in the 70s - but the cassette tapes that you listened to and used a paper that came with them to figure out how to perform the moves. Then came Body Electric on PBS. I still work out with Margaret to this day. Every weekday morning at 6 am I workout to her show. Other tv shows were "The 20 Minute Workout" (which I hated), and "It Figures" with Charlene Prickett. I became a fitness addict. My kids hated my early morning jumping around and told me to seek help for my addiction. LOL

I guess I am still an addict. I own so many fitness tapes and dvds that they fill an entire cabinet. I have running shoes, cross trainers, and dance shoes. I own weights of all sizes, stretch bands, fitness balls, kettle bells, and the list goes on. I've spent years being lean and muscled but now menopause has taken it's wrath on my body and I have to work even harder to just look "OK." I no longer weigh what I wish I did and I have to restrict my eating. I've learned to embrace the 130's and sometimes the 140's (when I don't restrict my eating). I've come to accept that you can't change some things and I try to focus on my health more so than my shape. A couple of years ago I had gone to the mobile mammography unit and this young nurse put my foot in the bone density machine. She looked kind of baffled and went to get an older nurse. She checked me, then asked me if I did weight bearing exercise. I replied that I did almost daily. She told the young nurse that the machine was working fine. I had registered with a bone density of a 24 year-old.

I worry about the youth of today. I look around my classroom and I see over-fat kids all the time. They have flabby bellies and fat arms and the worst of it is that they complain about getting Ds and Fs in PE. When I ask why, they tell me that they refuse to dress out and participate in the class! Each quarter they have to run one mile (only once). I see them crying, acting like they are going to pass out, calling their parents because they are light headed and on and on. I tell them that I can run a mile backwards! And I'm old! That will shame some of them but not all. Their lifestyle today is very different from pubescent kids' lifestyles 25 years ago. They play video games, watch tv, and talk on their cellphones. They eat junk and drink gallons of sugared drinks. You don't see these kids out riding bikes or playing ball.

I'm not saying that you have to devote your life to fitness. I know that I go to the extreme, but I do think exercise helps the quality of life. I love to hike, work outside, and just keep up with my students and grandkids. If I wasn't fit I couldn't do those things. Will I let up anytime soon? I doubt it. It's a part of who I am and a part of my daily routine.

I'm not trying to scold those who don't workout. Everyone has the right to live their own life without judgment. This is just the way that I choose to live mine. I may not live as long as some who have never been physically fit. We can't know our future but I can work hard to prevent high blood pressure and keep my heart and bones strong. To me that's worth the effort.

Growing Up Country

I have come to realize that I am the epitome of the saying "You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl." And the truth is - I like being a country girl. I copied and pasted the recent facebook post about being from the south but I think there is a distinction between a southern belle and a country girl from the south. Country girls get dirty, southern belles try not to. I love being outside, be it working in the garden, flower beds or hiking. This involves getting dirty, so I must fall into the country girl category.

There's also some confusion about country people and hill people. I think hill people are those that lived a subsistence life. They owned a little spot of land and hunted to provide meat and maybe grew a little garden. Country folks, by my definition, owned several acres, farmed the land, raised cattle, hogs, chickens, maybe ran a dairy farm and raised crops, as well as a big garden.

I grew up on a working farm (heavy on the working). My Daddy milked cows when I was little but government restrictions tightened up and he later got out of the dairy business and raised beef cattle. We also raised hogs and chickens, grew hay and made a garden, picked blackberries, huckleberries, canned and preserved any fruits and vegetables that we could. One of my memories is the day that the baby chicks would arrive on the "mail car." They would come in a box and I couldn't wait to pet them. I thought they were so cute. We would take them out to the chicken pen and put food and water in old tires cut in half. Sure enough some would fall in the water and drown. Later when they got bigger, they became "fryers." So much for the cute little chicks. We always had hogs and it seemed like an old sow would wait until the coldest day of winter to have her pigs. Daddy and Mom would have to go to the hog pen and check on things all night. Sometimes one would be frozen and Judith thought it was great fun to wrap the pig in a blanket and rock it. We learned the facts of life living on the farm. You can't hide that stuff. We knew how calves and pigs came about. We helped in the garden, picking up rocks, pulling weeds, picking off bugs - whatever needed to be done.

Our Granny churned butter in a jar. She would rock it back and forth until it made butter. Judith and I tried our luck at it but I'm not sure we ever made butter. When it was done we would spread it on a biscuit and sprinkle it with sugar. We thought it was good eatin'. We also learned to cook at a pretty early age just by helping out in the kitchen. We didn't know anything about cooking "fancy" food but we could put a country meal on the table.

If you grew up country you know about wilted lettuce, radishes, and onions. You would melt bacon grease and pour it over the salad. I miss that sometimes. I always thought you should have pinto beans with wilted lettuce, and of course cornbread (without sugar). The older folks ate milk with cornbread crumbled up in it. I never really like that.

Mom and Granny sewed our clothes. We would go to "Zula's" and get patterns and material and they would make most of our clothes. Mom ordered us shoes and underwear from Aldens, Sears, and Montgomery Wards. There weren't any trips to the mall back then. We had pageant dresses and prom dresses and even our wedding dresses handstitched from home. Our Granny had an old treadle machine and Mom had an electric one. There wasn't a week that went by that one or both those machines weren't busy making something.

Looking back it seems that being country was a hard life but never once did I go to bed hungry. We had lots of food and I never worried that we wouldn't have food. I always had lots of clothes, a warm coat and shoes, pajamas, and warm quilts on my bed.

I remember at about junior high age thinking we were poor because we lived in the country on a farm. My friends and family who lived in town seemed to me to have a much better life - they even had dishwashers and I was so envious of that. I got my eyes opened real wide though, on a school trip. I won't tell the story here but suffice it to say, when I got home from that trip, I realized that we weren't poor at all. My parents just chose to live a country life and raise country kids.

I'm thankful that I know how to cook, can, preserve, raise a garden and sew (not very well). I know that if desperate times called for it, I could make do with whatever I have and survive. I'm not sure that most folks could do that. JC was also raised country. We live modest life that's within our means. We draw pleasure from the simple things that life has to offer.

Animal Crackers On Your Breath

I wasn't going to blog this week. I have had a rough week and honestly nothing had given me any inspiration to blog about...until today after school. I was so tired and I just hate staying late on Fridays but I needed to put some grades in the computer and set up a lab for Monday. Late this afternoon our resource teacher asked me if I could stay after school and sit in on a special ed meeting. My heart sank but I said that I would.

Following the meeting the resource teacher and I came back to my room and we were just talking and somehow in the conversation it came up that in many churches most of the kids don't sit out in the sanctuary any more. Most churches have children's church or other programs for kids. It wasn't like that when my kids were growing up and I remembered a funny church story about my kids.

My son, Ryan, is 3 1/2 years old than Misty. For much of their childhood we attended the First Christian Church of Flippin. Back then a wonderful elderly lady named Bevie Hodges kept the nursery during church. In the nursery there was a rocking chair for Bevie, toys for the kids and a BIG cookie jar always filled with animal crackers. Ryan started going to church with me when he was only about 2 weeks old and he had always stayed in the nursery with Bevie. After Misty came along I got to thinking that it might be too much for Bevie. She was old and there were several kids in the nursery. When Ryan turned 4 I told him that he was going to sit out in the sanctuary with me during church. My kids didn't sass or talk back but I could tell that he was NOT a happy camper. That first Sunday rolled around and Ryan slid into the pew beside me. He had his little papers from Sunday School and some other papers and crayons that I had brought to keep him occupied. He didn't make a sound during church and I was so pleased with his behavior. Once Church was over we went back to the nursery to pick up Misty. When we got to the car Ryan got in the back seat and as I was strapping Misty in her car seat he forcefully pulled Misty's tiny little head around and said "Misty, I smell animal crackers on your breath!" This may not seem funny to anyone but me, but it cracked me up. His big brown eyes were so serious and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

I almost gave in the next Sunday but I didn't. What I did do was bring animal crackers for Ryan to have a little snack during church. I'm glad that I made him sit out in Church with me. I think that our kids need to learn that there's a time and a place to talk and a time and a place to be quiet. My kids learned that in the First Christian Church. My daughter, Misty, is a grown Mom now and she recently wrote a blog about "Write it down in your Notebook." It's her story of how I dealt with her when she got old enough for her turn to sit out in the sanctuary with Ryan and me. The days of the animal crackers were over.

Old Books - New Adventures

I LOVE to read. Whenever I fill out a form that asks to list my hobbies reading is usually listed first. I can't remember not knowing how to read. When I was little we lived with my Granny Ott and she was a voracious reader. She read, first of all, the Bible, followed by the Reader's Digest, the Mountain Echo, and any other publication that came into our home. Well, let me clarify that, she wouldn't have read the Watch Tower, and if I've stepped on any toes, forgive me. I'm just being totally honest here. But, back to my storyline; I think I got my love of reading from her. I'm not sure who taught me how to read. It was probably a mix of my Granny, my Aunt Joyce, and my parents.

We had lots of books in our home. My Aunt Joyce gave us lots of books and our parents always let us order several books from the book sale at school. We had a lot of comic books too. We would typically go into town (Yellville) on Saturday's and all 3 of us would head for the dime store. The comic books were up front by the door (if memory serves me right). I loved the Archie comic books. I couldn't wait to see what Betty, Veronica, Archie, Jughead, Moose and Reggie were up to. Bruce and I read more than Judith and we shared books. I don't think I was really interested in Louis La'mour but I read them anyway. Bruce and I even read the encyclopedias when we were desperate for new reading material. I can still quote a lot of useless information about plants, animals and other countries from all that encyclopedia reading. We would read the Reader's Digest after Granny and Daddy finished with them and I loved the Laughter: The Best Medicine section.

I currently read a book a week during the school year and in the summer that rises to 3 or 4 books a week. I take a book or books with me when we travel. It drives JC nuts. He's not a reader. I hide them in the compartments on my luggage when we go on vacation and there's always one in my beach bag when we go to the shore. I read every night before I go to bed. I'm sure there's a 12 step program out there for reading addicts, but I'm not ready to admit that I have a problem.

Books can take me anywhere that I want to go. I can shut out the "mean old" world and travel to far away lands. I can learn about other cultures and religions, national parks, other countries - you name it, I want to read about it. I don't have a favorite genre. I like to "spice it up." I may be reading a murder mystery today and a Christian romance tomorrow.

My favorite haunts, naturally, are book stores. I get giddy with excitement just walking in a Barnes and Noble or Books A Million. I could spend hours browsing the book jackets and covers. I also love the used book stores. They smell musty and old but those old books hold new adventures. There are no baristas, no comfy chairs or magazine racks - just books - lots of books. My favorite is the Book Nook in West Plains, MO. It's in an old building off the square. There are two stories filled with books. You can bring your books in and get credit and get more books to read. What a deal! They know me well there and no one bothers me while I browse. I wander up and down the rows and up and down the stairs looking for some new adventure. They don't have a debit/credit card machine so you better bring cash if you don't have credit. I don't re-sell every book that I read. I have received many books as gifts. Those I keep. I inherited my Aunt Joyce's book cases and they are filled to capacity with books that I want to keep. Bruce gave me a set of vintage "Book of Popular Science." There are 10 in the set. They make me laugh when I look at how far science has come since the 20's. I have my original set of encyclopedias that I bought for my kids when they were little. The FG is missing - one of the kids took it to school and lost it. I have a set of children's books, fairy tales, bible stories, and words to know. They are covered with chocolate and koolaid smudges. I wouldn't part with those. The Children's Bible, Daughter's of Eve, and many gift books line those shelves. I typically buy a book when we travel to a new place as a keepsake. Someday I will have to add a new bookcase.

I know that the new e-readers are all the rage and I plan to buy one this spring. It makes more sense to pack a Kindle than a book when traveling, but I will never give up my hard copies. I love the covers, the jackets, the paper smell. I love all the bookmarks that students and family members have given me over the years.

But whatever media I choose for my adventures it will be a wonderful experience and I'm always ready to make the trip. Won't you pick up a book and join me?

Where Have All the Good Daddies Gone?

I was watching Oprah the other day and the story was about twin girls from Wichita who had been repeatedly molested by their Dad and their older brothers. A day or so later Inside Edition ran a story about the 5 Browns, siblings that are extraordinary pianists. The siblings disclosed that their father had molested the girls over the years. The father has since pleaded guilty and will be going to prison. So, I wonder, where have all the good Daddies gone?

I know there are still good Dads out there but I think it's the exception rather than the rule these days. You hear the stories about the sexual and physical abuses, the deadbeat dads, and the dads who are just too overworked and tired to spend time with their kids.

Where are the Dads who loved their kids enough to teach them right from wrong? Where are the Dads who showed their kids how to bait a hook and cast a rod and reel? Where have all the Dads gone that loved their kids enough to make them pick up rocks when they had misbehaved and explain to them why they were being punished? Where are the Dads who came home from work smelling like grease, or barn yard, or sweat? Not liquor on their breath because they stopped off for a cold one before they got home. Where have all the Dads gone that hugged their little girls and let them climb into their laps because they loved their little girls, not because they saw them as a sex object? Where are all the Dads who taught you to stand and place your hand over your heart to say the pledge, salute the flag, to respect your elders and your teachers, to give the ladies a chair or a seat on the bus? Where are the Dads who would teach you the difference between a red oak and a white oak? Where are the Dads that would stand out in the yard, even though they were tired, and watch you twirl you baton until you got all the twirls and tosses just right. Where did the Dads go that made you get up on Sunday morning and go to Sunday School? Where are the Dads that helped you do your math and give you out your spelling words? Where did all the Dads go that brought home 7 Up for you when you were sick? Where did all the Dads go that would put someone in their place if they said a vulgar word in front of your Mom or Granny? When did they go away and why?

My Daddy didn't have much training in how to be a Dad. His own Dad committed suicide when he was 9. He was with my Granny when they found his Dad. It was something we didn't talk about in our home. I don't know if Daddy tried to be a good Dad because he had lost his own or if it was just the way he was. My Daddy is gone now and I am pretty certain that he's in Heaven, so I don't have to wonder where one good Daddy has gone. I had uncles that were good Daddies too but they are all gone now. I wish we could bring all the good Daddies back. Maybe they could be role models for all the young men today so we wouldn't have to wonder where all the good Daddies have gone.

Be My Valentine

Valentines Day is supposed to be a day which celebrates love and affection between intimate companions. Candy, flowers, and cards have been the traditional way of expressing our love.

When I was a kid my Dad would buy my Mom a big heart box of candy and a mushy card. That was typical 50s and 60s. The women didn't buy a gift for the men. It was a day for the ladies. As times changed it became an exchange of gifts between men and women - maybe a tie or a bottle of cologne for the guy, but it was still a thoughtful, intimate gift between a couple.

When I was in school, elementary kids liked Valentines Day because it was fun to exchange the little dime store cards with their classmates. We would bring a brown (or sometimes if we were lucky) a white paper sack to school. We would cut, color and glue hearts on them, neatly print our names, and tape them to the chalk rail in anticipation of the class Valentines party. On the night before the party we would open our valentines and read the verses, trying to decide which ones to give our classmates. We didn't have the Disney Themed cards, just animals and cupids. Our moms made us give everyone in our "room" a valentine, whether we wanted to or not. We weren't allowed to hurt anyone's feelings, but I was a cautious valentine giver. I would read the sayings and make sure that no boy thought I had a crush on him. We would write our names on the backs of the cards and the recipients' name on the envelope then we would place them in those decorated paper sacks. It was so exciting to see those sacks start to bulge with cards. When the designated hour arrived our moms (called room mothers back then) would show up with the cookies, cupcakes, and brownies. We would eat and open our cards. My how times have changed!

Today I watched as junior high students received balloon bouquets (some got more than one), with 6 packs of sodas and bags of chips attached, some had stuffed animals, some flowers; I even saw a huge heart shaped pillow tied to a bunch of balloons. I've seen 7th and 8th graders with bouquets of roses (I've had very few in my life). I kept thinking to myself that these are kids too young to work so parents must be paying for all this stuff. Why? What happened to plain old card exchanges? I had one 8th grade student who said to me "Nobody loves me." I told her that wasn't true. I had seen her with a balloon bouquet earlier. She said, "But those were just from my Dad." How sad is that? She wanted some balloons and flowers from a boy I guess. Her dad had taken the time and spent the money for her Valentines gift and that wasn't enough. And it's not just her, there are so many more with similar experiences. I left school feeling kind of aggravated and sad that this is what Valentines Day has become. It just put me in a bad frame of mind.

When I got home I went on facebook and saw the many Happy Valentines Day posts and pictures of roses, and candy received by my friends. I was still in my bad frame of mind when I scrolled down and saw a picture that shook me to my core. One of my friends, and I pray that she doesn't mind me writing this, had posted a picture of a necklace. A necklace that her late husband and bought her shortly before he passed away. It had an inscription but I couldn't read all of it. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that he had loved her enough to buy the necklace and have it inscribed because he knew he wouldn't be here this Valentines Day. Folks, that's what Valentines Day is. There are very few people that can truly know the depth of our spouses love. I hurt for her loss but I know that when she looks at that necklace she feels his love for her.

Happy Valentines Day.

"Lay Off the Locks"

Green Bay Packers linebacker, Clay Matthews, was a guest on the Ellen Show today. Part of he and Ellen's discussion was Clay's long hair. As a joke Ellen presented him with a football helmet that had a hairnet attached. If someone pulls on the hairnet a little sign pops up that reads "Lay Off the Locks." I thought to myself; "I know that feeling so well."

Those of you who know my husband, JC, are thinking; "She's going to blog about JC's long hair." No, he fights his own hair battles. This blog is for all the curly tops around the world who want well meaning people "to lay off the locks."

I believe that people assume that all curly haired people wish they had straight hair. Not so. There are many of us who are quite comfortable with our curls and have no desire to flat iron, pomade, or chemically straighten our locks. We're cool with it, but - it's almost as if it bothers those around us. I am constantly asked why I don't flat iron my hair or use a relaxer. Answer - because my hair is part of me. They will tell me "how much better" I will look with straight hair. Would those people like it if someone told them they needed to alter a part of their body? If you have curly hair and you want to straighten, go for it, but if the person is happy with their curls they shouldn't be made to feel as if it's a disfigurement.

I have had my share of hair cut disasters and I am talking butcher jobs. Once when I got to my appointment the stylist said "You didn't tell me over the phone that you have curly hair!" I asked if that was a problem. He replied that indeed it was and he refused to cut my hair. I'm thinking to myself that he must have been absent at stylist school on the days that covered curly hair cuts!!! I have since learned to always ask in advance if they have a stylist that is good with curly hair. I kept the same stylist for many years but two years ago she changed her work hours and it isn't possible for me to get my hair cut at her shop any more. I miss her. She never criticized my curls or my cowlicks. My current stylist is good at cutting my hair but she can't style it. If curly hair looks good wet, it's a good cut. If you have to mess with it, you might as well find someone else to cut it. My stylist "tried" to style it on my first visit to her salon. She started blowing it out with a round brush. I told her that was not a good idea. True to fashion, she ignored me and soon I had a beehive that put Dolly Parton's 60s hairdos to shame. I said "I told you that curly haired people don't use brushes." She called over another stylist and try as he might he couldn't shrink it down to a size small enough for me to fit in my car. We finally washed it out, put a little mousse on it, and called it done. Since then my stylist just cuts it and lets me use her blow dryer before I go out the door.

Naturally curly hair is caused by Trichohyalin, which is a gene on chromosome one. Until someone comes up with a gene altering procedure for curly hair, it can't be changed. I've read that only 15% of people that are of European descent have curly hair, while 40% have wavy hair. I inherited the curls from Dad's side of the family. He and his sisters, as well as, my brother, sister and me all have curly hair - and I mean really curly hair, not waves. My granddaughter, Lily, and grandson, Reid, also have inherited the curly hair gene and I love their hair. It's part of who they are.

When it's hot and humid my hair does get really big and out of control. That's when the headbands, hair clips and sometimes hats, come out. My hair looks its best in the cold, dry winter. But what ever the weather, it's still MY hair and to all who want to be critical, I say, "lay off the locks."

The Friendship Quilt

These bitterly cold temperatures have brought on the need for more "covers" on the bed. I went looking through my closet for a quilt to put on my guest bed. I have several quilts, all made by my Granny Ott and my Daddy's sisters. I pulled one out and as I was spreading it on the bed I began to think about friendship quilts. Does anyone make them anymore?

This particular quilt must have been my Aunt Ethel's wedding quilt. Aunt Ethel (Pace) is now in the nursing home at Yellville. Uncle Jack passed away a few years ago and she got to the point that she couldn't care for herself any more. My sister, Judith; my brother, Bruce; and I have her household items. That's how I came to have this quilt.

Each block is a star pattern with a circle in the center where all her friends and family embroidered their names. I realized that each block had a story to tell. It's kind of like a book of history with each block being a chapter. I wish I knew the story for everyone on the quilt but I don't. First off, most everyone on the quilt is a descendant of John Ott who came to Arkansas in 1856 or they married into the family. As I go across the rows of blocks I will tell you what I know.

Oma Ott was married to my great uncle, Charlie (grandson of John, son of Albert) and they had Fred and Retha. You may know Retha's girls, Mary Jane and Carolyn. Retha has a block on the quilt too.

Hettie Ott Linck was Fred and Retha's half sister. Charlie had first married Ethel Bundy, but she had passed away when Hettie was young. (My Granny Ott was a Bundy, but that's a blog for another day.) Just suffice it to say; my Daddy had a lot of double cousins.

Alsey Lee Ott married Howard Ott (grandson of Albert). Alsey was a Wagoner. She is my friend, Renelle's aunt; and my friend Sharmin's great aunt. Alsey loved to grow flowers. Her yard was a showplace. She never missed church. I attended the same church as she did for more than 25 years and I can't ever remember her not being there.

Dorothy Hall was my friends', Doyle, Loyle and Dewayne's aunt.

Juanita Ott (grandaughter of Albert, daughter of Marvin). Here comes those double cousins again. Marv married Linnie Bundy, my Granny Ott's sister. Also on the quilt is Juanita's sister, Nellie and a block for Aunt Linnie. Aunt Linnie is Terry Ott and JW Ott's grandma (and many, many more cousins.)

Lois and Etta Snipes are on the quilt. Lois was Etta's daughter. Lois's handmade cradle was used by my Dad and then my son, Ryan.

My Aunt Joyce's block is embroidered Joyce Briggs. She was first married to Cecil Briggs. Cecil was a teacher and the principal at Yellville School. Cecil died in his thirties. He was stricken with "apoplexy" while at school and later died at home. I had to look up apoplexy and I imagine it was a cerebral hemorrhage based on what my Granny told me about his death. Later, Aunt Joyce married Carl Keeter. Many of you knew her as Mrs. Joyce, your first grade teacher. Aunt Joyce was the second oldest in my Aunt Ethel's family.

Fred Bearden is the next block. He was our sheriff for a time. You may know his son, Larry and wife, Judith. Fred's sister, Lou Bearden also made a block. Lou later married Clyde Pickle, my Granny Ott's nephew.

Opal Marchant; Aunt Opal was just older than Aunt Ethel. She married Earl Marchant. They had one daughter, Earlene. They ran the Rea Valley store for many years and operated two big farms. Uncle Earl has a block too. He was a jolly man with a big laugh. Aunt Opal was a good cook. I loved her potato salad and red velvet cake. I spent a lot of days at her house. She later babysat my son, Ryan, until he got too big for a sitter.

The next block is my Dad's, Sherman B. Ott. I think he must have done the embroidery himself. It looks like his writing. I asked my Mom and she said that he knew how to embroider. I like to look at his block. It makes me happy.

Alice Wagoner is next. She is Renelle and Sharmin's grandma/great-grandma; Mother to Alsey and Althea. The Wagoner family lived just over the hill from the Ott family.

Belle Ott was married to Noah Ott and they had Howard, Charles, and Inis. Howard was married to Alsey, who I've already talked about. Inis also has a block on the quilt.

Lessie Bryant was my aunt Ethel's oldest sister. She married Guy Bryant (also a block for him). They had twin sons, Billy and Bobby. Aunt Lessie was a happy person. I loved to hear her laugh. Uncle Guy taught school all over Marion County for many years. He was the first teacher at the Rea Valley School. They later moved to Black Oak, AR where they raised cotton. Uncle Guy's sister, Vivian is also on the quilt.

The next block says Mother. That's my Granny Ott, Ella Bundy Ott. She married my grandpa, Blufford and they had four daughters and a son, Lessie, Joyce, Opal, Ethel and Sherman B. They bought the "old home place." That is where my brother, Bruce, lives and that is where the Ott Cemetery is located. I grew up there. My Granny was a seamstress. She sewed for the family and other people. She was missing the end of her middle finger. Her brother hit her with an axe while chopping wood when they were little. She had to learn to use a thimble on her forefinger. I like to look at her block too. I think of all the clothes she sewed for me, even our pajamas. Her hands were scratchy because she worked hard and she make you hold "real still" while she pinned up your clothes that she was sewing.

Ann Morrow was my Granny's friend. She lived on the next farm over. I can barely remember her. She had white hair and a kind voice. She was Grady Morrow's mother. Grady's wife Verna made a block.

Althea Wagoner is the next block. She is my friend, Sharmin's grandma. She was a joker and loved to pull pranks on people. I've heard some funny stories about her.

Ivon Goatley is on the quilt too. Sadly, I don't know anything about her.

Luna Johnson is next. There's a funny story that our family used to laugh about that involves Luna's cooking. When she was a teenager she would come home with Aunt Ethel and one night she made a peach cobbler. Now, my Dad's sisters were quite a bit older than him so me must have been just a little boy when this happened. Apparently the crust on the cobbler didn't get done and when my Dad took a bite of it he said, "Who made this pie dough anyway?" It embarrassed the girls and my Granny and I think he got told not to criticize any food ever again.

That's every block on the quilt. I don't know if my Aunt Ethel used the quilt or not. It's in good condition. If her mind was still clear, I would ask her about the quilt. Sadly, she doesn't know who I am when I go visit her. She gets confused and wants to know when Mama is going to send someone one to get her and take her to the farm. Once she called me Joyce. I will take good care of her quilt and always think about her and my other family members when I look at it. Someday my daughter, Misty, will probably get the quilt. I hope she tells her kids the stories of the people who made the blocks.

A Legacy of Love and Laughter

My mother-in-law, Hazel, passed away Jan. 28th, 2011. She had Alzheimer's. That's a blog in itself and I don't want to "go there" with this post, I want to talk about Hazel, the mom. I usually refer to Hazel as JC's little mama. I don't why I call her that, it just seems to fit. Hazel was anything but little and fragile. She had a strong body and a strong will. Floyd and Hazel were married in 1947 and raised 8 kids on a farm in rural Howell County Missouri. They had moved around a little bit early on because JC was born in Wichita, Kansas. Later, they returned to Floyd's family's farm and there they settled to raise their kids.

The first time I met Hazel, she hugged me. I was a bit surprised because I'm not from a family of "huggers." I thought maybe she knew that "I was the one" for JC. I realized later that Hazel just hugged everybody. Even if you didn't want a hug, you got one anyway. If you tried to get away she would still give you a sideways hug. That was Hazel's way.

It was hard raising 8 kids. Hazel couldn't give the kids a lot of material things but she gave the kids something far greater; she gave them all the love that she had. The Ledbetter kids know without a doubt that their mother loved them. She never criticized, never offered unsolicited advice and never judged. She let the kids stumble and make mistakes so they would learn from those mistakes. Then she waited with open arms when they needed her to comfort them.

Hazel loved to laugh. She was always smiling and laughing. I can't remember ever a time until she got so sick that she wasn't smiling and laughing. She would cut up with the kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. It made her happy to make others happy.

I've often thought about how hard her life must have been. Just cooking meals for a family of 10 was a big chore. JC told me that she would line them all up for hand-washing and tooth-brushing. He said that it was like a little assembly line, everybody getting a squirt of toothpaste. She insisted on clean hands - you couldn't come to the table without first "washing up." She told me once that you couldn't afford for germs to spread through 8 kids! Hazel cooked, cleaned, did the laundry for 10 and on top of that she raised a garden, took care of her chickens and helped Floyd with the farm. She never complained, always smiling and laughing, always hugging.

At her service, the pastor, a long time family friend and husband of Hazel's niece, said that Hazel left a legacy of love and laughter. I like that. What a great legacy to leave for your family. Hazel's grand-daughter, Robyn, spoke of her love and respect for her granny. She talked of the love shared by all of Hazel and Floyd's descendents. She reminded us how lucky they are to have a family that cares so much for each other. Robyn said that each time that we see a chicken in a pen or a weed that needs pulled in the garden, we will be reminded of Hazel.

I hope that the Ledbetter kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids will carry on this legacy of love and laughter. It's worth more than anything that money could ever buy.

The Tiger Mom versus the House Cat Mom

I have been reading excerpts from Amy Chua's book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and I have been both horrified and fascinated by her logic. If you haven't read it' there is an excerpt in the Wall Street Journal that you might check out. Amy Chua is a 48 year old Yale Law Professor, wife and mother of 2 teen daughters. Born in the United States, Chua is the daughter of immigrant Chinese parents who raised her by strict Chinese standards. She is married to a product of American upbringing, Jed Rubenfeld, who is also a Yale Law Professor.

In her book she talks about forcing her, then 7 year-old daughter, Lulu to practice the piano tune, "The Little White Donkey" for hours - no drinks of water - no bathroom breaks - nothing but practice until she got it right. I was horrified. I guess I would be a House Cat Mom. Both of my kids took lessons - all kinds of lessons - art, piano, trumpet, drums, gymnastics, taekwondo, and probably some more that I've long since forgotten. I don't remember ever making one of my kids continue practicing. I probably begged them to stop.

She also called one of her daughters "garbage" because she behaved disrespectfully. My kids probably were disrespectful a few times but I never called them garbage. I probably told them that Santa Claus was watching.

In yet another part of the book she threw a birthday card that her daughter had made her back at the daughter saying that she didn't want the card, that she deserved better than this. "So I reject this." I hung little cards with misspellings, finger prints and Elmer's Glue proudly on my refrigerator for all to see.

But, according to Amy Chua, this is why Americans are falling behind in education. She says that we don't expect enough from our children. She did not allow her daughters to have sleepovers, never accepted less than an A, required spelling and math drills daily, required violin and piano practice daily, no playdates, no tv, no computer games or even school plays. I have hosted my share of sleepovers, sat through countless school plays, endured the Nintendo games, Nickleodeon, Fraggle Rock, and on and on.

Now, how do our kids compare? One graduated from Hendrix with honors, the other decided to pursue home and hearth first and attend college later. Are they more or less happy than Amy Chua's kids? I can't say. But as I'm typing this I am looking at a little blue clay turtle. It sits on my desk and holds my paper clips - has for 27 years. It has little fingerprints all around it and it doesn't really look like a turtle - Ryan had to tell me what it was, because the tail got broken off on the bus ride home. On the bottom in squiggly 2nd grade writing, it say's RR, 2A. Amy Chua would have thrown that little turtle back at her child. I cherish my little turtle.

Amy Chua says that China is far surpassing our students and their economic growth is much higher because we are not practicing strict enough parenting skills. Maybe so, but how are they doing in the nurturing department? And, if China is so great, why did my college classes have so many Chinese students in them?

Amy Chua teaches law at Yale. Her students want to be there. Most of my students don't want to be there. I have learned that if you tell them they worked really hard that they will ask you for an even harder challenge. I don't have to throw work back at them or call them garbage to get them to try harder.

I might recommend that Amy Chua read "Love and Logic" by Dr. Charles Fay and "A Framework for Understanding Poverty" by Ruby Payne. It might help to "tame the tiger mom."

Expiration Date

I watch tv while I walk on my stairstepper and I frequently see a commercial for Cancer Treatment Centers of America in which this lady says that her doctor told her that there is no expiration date stamped on her anywhere. This got me to thinking about how I would live my life if I had an expiration date stamped on me. Would I enjoy life to the fullest, making the most of every second? Would I try to work hard and save to build up a sizable nest egg to leave for my family? Would I walk on the wild side? Or just live a simple life? Would I travel the world or be content to stay at home? Would I walk the straight and narrow all the way? Or not worry about it because I could repent and ask for forgiveness as the expiration date drew close? Would I take care of my health? (I'm always on the stairstepper when I see this commercial) Would I work out daily or just throw caution to the wind - after all I have the expiration date stamped on me. Why not just eat my favorite junk foods? I could buy every flavor of Ben and Jerry's and order potato chips by the case. What does it matter - I know my date? Uh oh! I just realized there's a hitch. Just because I know the expiration date, I don't know the quality of life that I would have. If I don't care for myself I could have a heart attack, high blood pressure, maybe suffer a stroke. Now I have to re-think all this. Say, I've been given an expiration date of 80 but I don't eat right, exercise, and avoid bad habits; what would those years be like? And say I did suffer an injury or illness that disabled me, would I still try to live a full life? Or just give up and bide my time until the expiration date? My mind goes in a whirlwind just trying to weigh the pros and cons! I think though, if pressed for an answer, I would try to live a good life (by my country girl standard of good); enjoy my family and friends, try to build a nest egg, take care of my physical and spiritual health, and try to leave a legacy as someone who always tried hard to make my little part of the world a better place for others.

My friend Webster

I've always been an avid reader. Because of my voracious need to read I have, what I think, is an expanded vocabulary. The dictionary has always been my companion. Growing up we had an old Funk and Wagnalls (remember Laugh In - look it up in your Funk and Wagnalls). I loved that old dictionary. It had a navy blue hard cover and the little half moon cutouts with gold embossed letters. It smelled like old books and was pretty worn but it held a wealth of knowledge. Any unfamiliar word that I came across in my reading could be found in the old F and W. I also had a prized Webster's notebook dictionary - the kind that are 3 hole punched to fit in school binders. I could underline and highlight in it without getting in trouble.
After I left home I bought a hardback Websters. It wasn't as nice as the old Funk and Wagnalls, but it soon became my good friend. I have relied on it's definitions for many years now and it has never let me down.
A few years ago I began to hear words in the news that I was unfamiliar with, the first that comes to mind was the term, rhetoric. This was back during the Clinton years. I looked it up in my Websters and found several variations of it, but finally understood what was meant by "political rhetoric." There was also another word, which I'm pretty sure I know the meaning of, that was in the news a lot during the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Just let me say, if you don't know the definition of that word, you don't need to be having it. Hmmmmm. Now I found myself in the midst of daily news casts, internet news and written papers and magazines filled with words that are unfamiliar to me. Once again Webster has become my good friend. He gave me the definition of vitriol (translated - to cause pain), incendiary (to arouse strife), and several more words that have been used in the media lately. Webster lives on my end table now, beside the remote controls. I wish I didn't Webster anymore, but with the social and political climate of our country now I think he will be a constant companion.