Writing Prompt

I wrote this from a writing prompt I received in a writing seminar over the summer. Lately, I haven't been able to stop thinking about this girl - who she is, what she's doing. I'm going to revisit her and her story, but I wanted to start with her here. What follows is just what I wrote on the spur of the moment in class.

If there was an answer, she'd find it there - there where the road met the state line - that place that for so long had only existed in her imagination - that place where the sun always used to sink below the horizon. She stood there looking - looking out, over and beyond. She wasn't completely sure what it was that she was looking for, but she knew it would be there. She took one more trepidatious step forward as if it was at this point that someone would finally be there. Her second step - the one that actually crossed the state line - was a little easier. By the third step, when she had clearly and with all of herself entered Nebraska, she finally noticed the weight of her backpack and thought to herself "I can't go back now." She trod forward, wobbling slightly with the weight of her expanded belly, the weight of her reason to walk three days in worn-out sneakers and cutoffs, her dark hair darker with dirt and sweat, the sun beating down on her face, arms and exposed parts of her shoulders. The answer - she was still looking for an answer. An answer to her blackened eye, to her throbbing left knee. "If there is an answer," she said, "I will find it here."

Barber to Boise Results

I placed 25 in my age group - that's out of 37 women ages 25-29. For not being much of a runner, I'm pretty impressed with myself. I finished in 33:29. Kathy finished half a footstep behind me. This means we finished in the top 68%. This makes me think that maybe with practice we could get a little better!

Barber to Boise

Kathy and I did the Barber to Boise 5K yesterday! We ran the whole thing because we're rockstars. They took pictures of us and posted them on line. Check us out! You have to search under the Barber to Boise pictures and then search by my last name. I don't know our times yet because they're not posted, but I'll put them here when they are.

Eight Mile

K ran eight miles this weekend as part of his half marathon training. We purchased a bikedometer for my bike - that's what I call it because I don't know its real name; it's just an odometer that sits on my handlebars - so that I can ride behind him and keep track of his time and miles and such. I like it because riding behind him makes him look stationary, almost like he's riding in front of a blue screen - he looks the same the whole time, but the scenery changes. Plus, it's a way for me to be involved with the outside running since I can't keep up with his pace and I can't run eight miles the way my knees have been hurting lately.

The race is in less than three weeks. Mark your calendar for November 5 to come out and cheer him on!

In Memorium

Today I went to a funeral service for an old high school teacher, Mr. Fout.

Honestly, I was disappointed with the service. It felt to me like a political scheme on behalf of Mr. Fout's church to proselytize to the 1500 people there to mourn. The funeral was directed at his family and church, neglecting half the crowd who turned up: students and colleagues.

Now, it isn't that I have a problem with the funeral being directed to his family and church because there's no doubt in my mind (especially not after the service today) that those two entities were huge in Mr. Fout's life. I just think that since he had been an educator for 25 years and because the funeral was open to the public and because the public showed up in huge numbers and because the service was held at the high school gym that there should have been some recognition of the people who filled that part of his life. You know, rather than four prayers, including one where people were supposed to give their lives to Jesus and ask Jesus to come into their hearts so they too could go to Heaven, and two pauses for poorly dubbed church music. I was genuinely surprised there was no communion.

And so, because there was little opportunity for people to express their heartfelt appreciation for Mr. Fout, here is mine.

Dear Mr. Fout,

Thank you for being fun and engaging and supportive for three tough years of my life. I always knew your classroom was a place I could go when I needed help, ideas or a laugh. Most of all, thank you for being the best male role model in my daily life for so long, giving me love in your teacherly way, because whether you knew it or not, I wasn't getting that at home.

Just before I entered the large auditorium to receive my high school diploma I saw you helping organize students, straightening tassels and giving everyone high fives and slaps on the back. I went up and hugged you, crying. I was upset because at that moment I realized I was really moving on. I was upset because I thought I would never see you again. You told me that I would see you again - you promised. You said that with my drive and aptitude and intelligence I would do something great and that our great paths would be sure to cross again.

Well, I saw you again today. It wasn't in the context I had hoped for, but it did give me hope. I hope that I can have an impact on people the way you did - that they will remember me with the same fondness we remembered you with today.

Thank you again for trusting me, for humoring me and for telling me to go ahead with all my plans that probably sounded at first a little nutty. You’re right – I plan to do something great. I plan to be as inspirational and helpful as you were for me and to never give up on my own dreams and never give up on a student’s either.

Welcome Home Lucy!

Lucy contracted Parvo - a nasty puppy virus that has serious potential to kill - and has been staying at the vet's for the last two nights with an IV in her arm to give her fluids. But today she gets to come home again! The clinic has taken great care of her so she's doing well and her strength is back. We've missed her around here!