<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:17:32.812-08:00</updated><category term='A Beautiful Fall Day'/><category term='M and J Go to College'/><title type='text'>Marthematics</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>86</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4592996156354823437</id><published>2011-07-03T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T11:36:44.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NOT Rocket Science</title><content type='html'>One of the things I love about education is the challenge of it.  Since my first year of teaching 11 years ago, I remember reading and talking and asking lots of questions trying to find that elusive magic bullet.  What is it that we can do to eliminate the achievement gap?  It turns out it isn't that complicated.  Here's the secret:  do whatever it takes to make sure every student learns, every single day.  If they don't, then re-teach in a different way and assess again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roland Fryer and Geoffrey Canada talk about this issue.  Check it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.aifestival.org/session/afternoon-conversation-geoffrey-canada-and-roland-fryer-jr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are five things we can do to eliminate the achievement gap*:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style&gt;@font-face {   font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }ol { margin-bottom: 0in; }ul { margin-bottom: 0in; }&lt;/style&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;1)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;More time in school.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;2)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Teacher quality&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;3)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Using data to drive instruction – every 3 weeks, re-teach, re-assess, make sure kids get mastery&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;4)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Differentiating instruction&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;5)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Culture, expectations, accountability&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(*research based data shows these five things are correlated with significantly reducing the achievement gap).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, if only we could get teachers on board with this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4592996156354823437?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4592996156354823437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4592996156354823437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4592996156354823437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4592996156354823437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2011/07/not-rocket-science.html' title='NOT Rocket Science'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2102788116990257354</id><published>2011-06-19T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T13:52:28.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing School Culture</title><content type='html'>Thanks to a colleague, I'm reading a great book about changing school culture.  I've wondered how to go about changing mindsets so that everyone has the "do whatever it takes" attitude when it comes to student achievement.  The strange thing is that many teachers will say that they are doing all they can, that they can't do anymore.  We have to keep going until all students achieve.  The very idea that one can do this job in 7.75 hours is ridiculous and unprofessional yet our profession is part of a union that fights for the right to arrive at work at 7:00 and leave promptly at 2:45.  If we are to make real changes for our students, we cannot adhere to that schedule.  Imagine a surgeon who had a particularly difficult operation. What if his hours were up in the midst of surgery?  Would he leave the patient on the table?  Never.  But that's what some teachers are fighting for.  I'm not into teacher bashing because it gets us no where.  It's time for solutions.  Time to use the union to move our profession forward instead of backward.  Rather than clinging to some crazy schedule or structures that support weak teachers, why not work to increase our pay and require more education for teacher licensing?  Why not work toward a longer school day and paying teachers more who choose to work in high poverty schools?  Why be so defensive?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2102788116990257354?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2102788116990257354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2102788116990257354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2102788116990257354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2102788116990257354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2011/06/changing-school-culture.html' title='Changing School Culture'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7626905095980849160</id><published>2011-06-06T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T19:47:58.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Days of School</title><content type='html'>Everything is important.  Every moment.  I know everyone is tired and we are all looking forward to some time to rest and recover.  But we need to stay focused on our work for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Research says that students lose 2.5 months of learning over the summer and the time spent recovering the learning in the fall simply puts student learning back even more.   This problem is more critical with poor children.  I know everyone thinks we're being nice by showing movies on these last days and going on field trips, but really, we're doing some real damage that can't be made up.  Students will spend much of their summer indoors watching movies.  School is for learning.  Step it up people.  It's the least we can do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7626905095980849160?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7626905095980849160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7626905095980849160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7626905095980849160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7626905095980849160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2011/06/last-days-of-school.html' title='Last Days of School'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2958812350010111165</id><published>2010-08-28T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T09:42:21.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do What You Love</title><content type='html'>It took me a while to find it.  Now that my children are finding their way, I realize how patient and curious we should be before throwing in the towel or making a decision that we are unsure of.  Living is all about trying and exploring.  It takes time and the thing you love today might be different tomorrow.  Find it and if you can't find it, keep looking and do things that make the looking more fun.  Take a class, read a book, take a nap, talk to your grandma.  Believe in yourself and in what you are doing is exactly the right thing to be doing now.  Figure out what's next when it arrives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2958812350010111165?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2958812350010111165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2958812350010111165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2958812350010111165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2958812350010111165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/08/do-what-you-love.html' title='Do What You Love'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5316899827361568405</id><published>2010-08-13T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T20:11:30.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips</title><content type='html'>If you feel ill, take some deep breaths.  If you still feel sick, call your mother and place a cool compress on  your head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5316899827361568405?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5316899827361568405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5316899827361568405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5316899827361568405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5316899827361568405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/08/tips.html' title='Tips'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5480134745598576941</id><published>2010-07-18T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T14:43:58.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Faith?</title><content type='html'>In my darkest moment I reached out for comfort.  I didn't ask why this had to happen to me.  I think that is faith.  I knew there was comfort for me - I knew if I could reach out, it would be there.  I knew that if I just asked and let go a little that I would be okay.  Sure, there were times that I thought, does it have to hurt so much? or does recovery have to take quite so long?  Sometimes I wondered when I would hear some good news, like the date I'd be released from the hospital.  But through it all, I knew it would be okay.  There were many people that came to support me spiritually.  A chaplain, a priest, a healer.  The chaplain suggested this short prayer, "Be still and know that I am God."  As I said it I felt like I was actually in God's palm - what a beautiful feeling of comfort and security.  One morning after a terrible feverish night sleep, I finally dozed off.  I woke up with the the voices from my church choir in my ear singing Total Praise.  I am changed.  Not in my faith or my belief.  I am changed in what faith can do for all of us.  Believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5480134745598576941?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5480134745598576941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5480134745598576941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5480134745598576941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5480134745598576941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-is-faith.html' title='What is Faith?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4955006996965605753</id><published>2010-07-07T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T16:20:26.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home At Last</title><content type='html'>It's been an unbelievable two weeks.  An adventure of some kind.  I am still in a haze, but slowly coming to the surface of my life.  I have had wonderful care at the hospital.  My friends and family have been unbelievably supportive and caring - doing much more than I ever asked.  It has been overwhelming and humbling to feel so cared for and loved.  I have a great life and I'm so glad to get back into it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4955006996965605753?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4955006996965605753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4955006996965605753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4955006996965605753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4955006996965605753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/07/home-at-last.html' title='Home At Last'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1481961376996344844</id><published>2010-07-05T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T16:28:41.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life</title><content type='html'>My life in the past two weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) barfing &amp;amp; stomach pain&lt;br /&gt;2) ER for 6 hours&lt;br /&gt;3) CT scan #1&lt;br /&gt;4) admitted to hospital&lt;br /&gt;5) more barfing and stomach pain&lt;br /&gt;6) diverticulitis diagnosis&lt;br /&gt;7) perforated colon&lt;br /&gt;8) abscess&lt;br /&gt;9) CT scan #2&lt;br /&gt;10) waiting to see what will happen&lt;br /&gt;11) IV antibiotics&lt;br /&gt;12) CT scan #3&lt;br /&gt;13) decision to fix colon surgically&lt;br /&gt;14) clear out colon for 24  hours, drinking horrible stuff&lt;br /&gt;15) surgery&lt;br /&gt;16) recover from surgery&lt;br /&gt;17) low hemoglobin&lt;br /&gt;18) get blood transfusion&lt;br /&gt;19) getting nutrition and medicine through neck&lt;br /&gt;20) hurt knee&lt;br /&gt;21) get it drained and cortisone injected&lt;br /&gt;22) washed hair&lt;br /&gt;23) first day of eating today&lt;br /&gt;23) recovering&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1481961376996344844?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1481961376996344844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1481961376996344844' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1481961376996344844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1481961376996344844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-life.html' title='My Life'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4781729997521784030</id><published>2010-06-28T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T06:32:21.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7</title><content type='html'>Still in hospital.  Attitude fluctuating.  Drugs help, but make me sleepy.  I miss my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4781729997521784030?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4781729997521784030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4781729997521784030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4781729997521784030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4781729997521784030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/06/day-7.html' title='Day 7'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7842778697013024638</id><published>2010-06-26T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T14:40:55.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acute Complicated Diverticulitis</title><content type='html'>This is what I have.  I thought it was the flu at first, you know barfing, stomach cramps, the standard business.  But my stomach continued to ache and the barfing wasn't letting up even though there was nothing left.  So off to the hospital I went, (last Tuesday night).  After lots of tests they diagnosed me with diverticulitis.  If you're over 40, you probably have it too, so watch out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like to know more about this lovely disease, check this out:&lt;br /&gt;http://digestive.niddk.nih.gov/ddiseases/pubs/diverticulosis/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I had a bulge in my colon.  As I said before, most of you out there have one too.  It's normal, and usually you have no symptoms.  Usually.  The bulge is sort of like a hernia.  In my case the bulge turned into a hole and then the pain got worse, and the fever, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cure?  Lots of IV antibiotics, with the hope that it will heal naturally, sort of like a scab.  It can happen.  It just goes real slow.  My fever is down.  I still have a little pain and some other problems (that I will not get into).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping to go home tomorrow or Monday.  It's strange to be in the hospital so long.  Extremely boring, but I feel too sick to do much to keep me from being bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7842778697013024638?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7842778697013024638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7842778697013024638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7842778697013024638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7842778697013024638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/06/acute-complicated-diverticulitis.html' title='Acute Complicated Diverticulitis'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-925398934975262986</id><published>2010-05-25T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T19:41:38.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm 7</title><content type='html'>Changes for me.  I think mostly good.  Scary.  You know how we all can reach back to one specific age as if we never really aged?  My age is 7.  I feel it especially now.  I wonder if it is just an age that was particularly good or that lots of things happened that year.  Maybe my brain was developing in a specific way to contain the memories of that time.  I have to remind myself, I'm really 44.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-925398934975262986?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/925398934975262986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=925398934975262986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/925398934975262986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/925398934975262986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-7.html' title='I&apos;m 7'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2821677174045573577</id><published>2010-03-28T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T20:51:06.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Mothers</title><content type='html'>You think we know them, but I think it is time we get to know them.  Two weeks ago my friend Katie's mom died.  Yesterday I went to the funeral and Katie told her mom's story and I thought, do I know my mom's story?  I'm not so sure.  Let's get to know our moms.  Let's talk to them and ask them about their childhood.  What were their secrets?  How did they do in 5th grade?  What kind of shoes did they wear on their first day of school?  How did they meet our dads?  What did they do on summer vacation?  Did they fight with their siblings?  Did they like mac and cheese and hate green beans?  How did they get through life before we came along?  Let's ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2821677174045573577?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2821677174045573577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2821677174045573577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2821677174045573577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2821677174045573577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/03/our-mothers.html' title='Our Mothers'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1664953395717763504</id><published>2010-02-09T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T19:18:45.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real People</title><content type='html'>So I read a great book and sent the author an email and she responded and then I got to meet her.  Really.  I also sent a letter to Obama asking him to visit the school and his scheduler called me and said he was too busy but appreciated being asked.  Sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do something nice for someone secretly this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to think of a mission a week.  The author I met, Amy Kraus Rosenthal has a fabulous blog in which she suggests a mission each week.  Last week it was about "doing that one thing, you know what it is." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out at http://blogs.vocalo.org/blog/amykr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kindness goes a long way.  Give it a go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1664953395717763504?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1664953395717763504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1664953395717763504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1664953395717763504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1664953395717763504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2010/02/real-people.html' title='Real People'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1552358604095259681</id><published>2009-12-29T08:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T08:28:58.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>Today I sat down with a friend I have not seen for many years.  We planned to meet for coffee.  I was curious about her life, how many kids did she have?  What's her job?  Where does she live?  How are her parents?  I'm always a bit nervous in these situations, wondering if the conversation will be smooth or if there will be uncomfortable silences.  I wonder, is she just being polite? Are we just doing this out of some strange sense of loyalty or obligation?  Here's the beauty - when she turned into the coffee shop it was if I was transported back to those days at weekend college.  She is as beautiful and fun as ever.  We had our whole lives to share - there was a lot there.  Our two hours of gabbing flew by and I still have so much to ask and say.  What is that?  How does that connection happen?  It doesn't work for every friendship.  But for the two of us - there is so much there.  She shared about times that she thought of me because of something I said 15 years ago.  And there are many moments in my life that she pops into my mind because of a memory or something that was said between us.  I was growing up and figuring out my life when I went back to school.  And I found someone who was doing the same thing.  We weren't traditional college students.  We had stumbled and fallen a few times on the way to figuring out our lives and it was so wonderful to find her there in class.  We held each other up and cheered each other on.  We laughed together a lot and tried to sort out relationships and family and all of it.  I'm not sure that I ever really figured it out, but I found a great friend on the way.  Yeah for friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1552358604095259681?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1552358604095259681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1552358604095259681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1552358604095259681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1552358604095259681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/12/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7241112738370908248</id><published>2009-12-11T13:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T13:16:04.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Paycheck</title><content type='html'>Here's something to ponder.  The big banking and investment companies are whining because of the limits on the amount of pay they can offer potential candidates.  Since they took bailout money, there is a limit on CEO compensation.  They are whining because they are saying they can't get good candidates if they don't have a good compensation package.  The trouble with this argument is that we have clear evidence that shows that even when you pay CEOs gobs of money, they still do a really crappy job. So why do they think it would work this time?   Here's an idea, pay people a reasonable about of money for doing good work.  Now wouldn't that be nice?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7241112738370908248?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7241112738370908248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7241112738370908248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7241112738370908248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7241112738370908248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/12/paycheck.html' title='The Paycheck'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7885566539752552246</id><published>2009-11-14T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T14:34:26.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who We Are</title><content type='html'>In the past few weeks I have thought a lot about my job.  It's true that I love it.  Everyday, I love it.  I am eager to get to work, eager to see my students, eager to see what they have learned and eager to plan for what's next.  How did I get to this place?  There are many reasons including the people who influenced me in my life, the teachers I have had, and the inherent creativity that is part of teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents are my biggest supporters.  They influenced me in ways I will never clearly understand.  Most of what they have done is live in a way that is a model for all of us.  Being kind and helping others in a humble quiet way is what they do.  They don't look for thanks.  They don't do any of it for recognition.  They do it because they can.  They help others because they believe that is what humans are asked to do.  It is our obligation to help people who are less fortunate.  When I was recognized for teaching it was extremely surprising and wonderful and my parents were very proud.  It has been something that I will always remember, but it is not something I was looking for.  It doesn't make me love my work any more than I already do.  It just raises up the work of education so that maybe others can see its beauty and power and find ways to support our work in schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many teachers that influenced me in my work.  While I cannot describe or remember any of the academic content they taught me, I can remember the way they cared about me and my classmates.  Mr. Ario taught us about our responsibilities as US citizens and our obligations in the world and in our neighborhoods.  He taught us about kindness and love.  Mr. Austrums quietly patiently taught us algebra.  He told us about his hopes for us and he loved each of us.  He was quiet and gentle in the way he taught and he was joyful in his praise of our learning.  These teachers taught me how to live.  I love teaching because I love learning.  This love of learning came from my experiences in school.  I had teachers who helped me discover the power and wonder of learning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I get to learn something and I get to create an experience for my students in which they will learn something about math (or life, hopefully).  Having to use my creativity has been a an unexpected gift.  I have learned how think in ways that expand my mind.  It's hard to describe this process of crafting a lesson that is engaging and fun and effective.  It's challenging and daunting at times.  And it is wildly satisfying too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work with so many teachers who believe in this work.  I look forward to learning more from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Create.  It will change your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7885566539752552246?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7885566539752552246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7885566539752552246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7885566539752552246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7885566539752552246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/11/who-we-are.html' title='Who We Are'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3692118004331862664</id><published>2009-11-01T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T20:03:57.138-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teaching Is Love</title><content type='html'>When I first started teaching middle school it was awful.  I was awful.  I drove home many days crying my eyes out and dreading the next day.  It was a tough crowd.  I was teaching 8th grade math to students who were struggling in their regular math class so they had to take a second math class.  Yeah, I know what you're thinking.  Who wants to even take one math class let alone two?  And for kids who are struggling in math, taking another math class feels like punishment.   However, in June, when the year was over, I was eager to give it another try.  I couldn't imagine doing anything else.  What changed?  I started to love them.  I started to see them as the beautiful people they were rather than the difficult-to-manage-in-your-face students everyone complained about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year a few students get under my skin. All my usual tricks don't work and I go home wondering what to do.  How will I reach her?  How will I help him be successful when he won't stop swearing long enough to hear the assignment?  I decide to love them.  I decide that my job, more than teaching fractions, and slope, and line of best fit, is to love them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't figure this out myself.  Most of what I do is stolen from other teachers I have had the privilege to know.  My high school philosophy teacher taught me what it means to be human.  My middle school math teacher taught me about kindness.  My son's English teacher taught me about how unimportant grades are and how incredibly important love is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I learn something from my colleagues, my students, my children, my parents, and my friends.  Learning is what I do.  Learning is what I love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3692118004331862664?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3692118004331862664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3692118004331862664' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3692118004331862664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3692118004331862664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/11/teaching-is-love.html' title='Teaching Is Love'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-998451812323753473</id><published>2009-10-23T15:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T16:13:21.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow - Indescribable, But I'll Try</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SuI1SuCLZPI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Ps89tX2Un7g/s1600-h/100_0610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SuI1SuCLZPI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Ps89tX2Un7g/s200/100_0610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395933899254359282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on Tuesday I'm at the gym for a dreaded middle school assembly and I am surprised and astounded because at the assembly I am awarded an awesome thing - recognition for my job.  I'm still in a daze about it.  I still can't really remember much from the moment they read my name until about 24 hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teachers at Andersen and the students at Andersen are what it's all about.  I work in a magical place with teachers who work harder than anyone and kids who need us all to work even harder.  I love my job.  I'm not sure if it is true for every profession, but when I say I am a teacher, I feel like I'm really defining who I am.  I feel proud to say those words because it is such precious and awesome and gratifying and influential work. I get to be creative every single day.  I get to learn every single day.  I get to be with other human beings who are learning and growing every single day and I get to be part of that process!  Who wouldn't like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some things that have happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Strangers sent emails thanking me for my work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People I went to grade school with sent notes of congratulations.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My parents cried and told me how proud they are.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My colleagues celebrated with me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Parents of grade school friends left me tearful messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Past students came to my school to see me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Small sweet elementary school kids stopped to say, "Are you Ms. Spriggs?  Congratulations!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My church choir stopped singing and applauded for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got flowers from the credit union.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People say they are proud to know me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;It's all so humbling.  Today was the first day I really cried about it.  On my way to work I was listening to a song and I started bawling.  Humanity!  I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-998451812323753473?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/998451812323753473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=998451812323753473' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/998451812323753473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/998451812323753473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/10/wow-indescribable-but-ill-try.html' title='Wow - Indescribable, But I&apos;ll Try'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SuI1SuCLZPI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Ps89tX2Un7g/s72-c/100_0610.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5614295026964699777</id><published>2009-09-22T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T19:54:41.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Just Life</title><content type='html'>I love how now that I'm a grownup I can look at bees swarming on my flowers and feel happy about the power of nature instead of feeling freaked out and fearful.  Now I'm freaked out and fearful about different stuff like falling down stairs or getting in a car accident or losing my memory way faster than I intend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be kind.  Be calm.  Believe that everyone is really doing their best.  Say that a few times.  It might stick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5614295026964699777?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5614295026964699777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5614295026964699777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5614295026964699777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5614295026964699777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-just-life.html' title='It&apos;s Just Life'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4764521639465724129</id><published>2009-08-01T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T10:05:15.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Ahead</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SnR1wFgboZI/AAAAAAAAAfY/y0TTcnZAzw8/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 73px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SnR1wFgboZI/AAAAAAAAAfY/y0TTcnZAzw8/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365042525077479826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice polyester pant is okay once in a while.  Live a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4764521639465724129?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4764521639465724129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4764521639465724129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4764521639465724129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4764521639465724129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/08/go-ahead.html' title='Go Ahead'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SnR1wFgboZI/AAAAAAAAAfY/y0TTcnZAzw8/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2544721873995518689</id><published>2009-07-26T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:55:03.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Is Working On That?</title><content type='html'>It is such an obvious maddening conspiracy.  Does anyone really think we are not capable of making roads that stay smooth through the Minnesota winter?  I mean really, we can make a hand held device that can do almost anything but we can't make a road?  Yes we can.  We just choose not to.  Because when we have to replace roads every couple of years we help people make money.  Dumb rich people making money.  Now it is obvious this is true because it is the same model that the nylon people are using.  Seriously, no one knows how to make nylons that don't run?  As if!  We can fly a man to the moon.  We can make bacteria that kill viruses in people.  We can do SKYPE for god's sake!  We can certainly make nylons that don't run and roads that don't crack.  We just choose not to so we have to keep making the things and paying for them and making people rich.  I've had it!  Figure it out people.  Let's take this to the streets... oh wait, we can't because of the road construction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2544721873995518689?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2544721873995518689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2544721873995518689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2544721873995518689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2544721873995518689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/07/who-is-working-on-that.html' title='Who Is Working On That?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8625829029629856613</id><published>2009-07-23T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T15:16:17.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cover the Crack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmjhLIx3u7I/AAAAAAAAAfI/Xc1702D450A/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 135px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmjhLIx3u7I/AAAAAAAAAfI/Xc1702D450A/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361782937836043186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one likes to look at butt cracks.  I'm just wondering why we see them so much.  In the past 24 hours I have seen three butt cracks.  One 60 year-old man, one 30-something woman, and one 13-year-old girl.  Can they not feel that their cracks are showing?  Do they think crack showing is appropriate?  Maybe they think it is just a minor offense, sort of like spinach in the teeth.  It's gross.  It's crass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People - pull up the pants.  Cover the crack!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8625829029629856613?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8625829029629856613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8625829029629856613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8625829029629856613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8625829029629856613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/07/cover-crack.html' title='Cover the Crack'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmjhLIx3u7I/AAAAAAAAAfI/Xc1702D450A/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2123755229335757205</id><published>2009-07-22T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T19:44:06.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Happened To Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmfObPmN_kI/AAAAAAAAAfA/vBKmgLNwjeI/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 117px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmfObPmN_kI/AAAAAAAAAfA/vBKmgLNwjeI/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361480848846487106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week a Harvard Professor was arrested at his home for breaking into it - he couldn't open the door so he had to break into his own house.  Most people have had some reason to break into their house, right?  I have.  Living with two teens means keys are lost and I am often locked out.  That's life.  Once when I went to my husband's house, I had no key so I sort of broke in.  The security alarm went off and the police came.  I simply said I was sorry for their bother and they left.  They did not check my ID or ask me any questions.  If the cops had checked my ID they would have noticed that my name was different than my husband's name and the address on my ID was from a different state.  I would have looked guilty of breaking in.  I was worried, but clearly, didn't need to be.  I am a white woman, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor Henry Louis Gates is black.  He was arrested at his home.  He showed his ID that showed his address as being the same as the house he was supposedly breaking into.   I know these are just two examples and there are hundreds that may or may not be fair.  Who knows.  But at the very least, the dumbo cop should apologize.  Be courageous.  Say you made a mistake and then make sure you bring your keys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2123755229335757205?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2123755229335757205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2123755229335757205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2123755229335757205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2123755229335757205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-happened-to-me.html' title='It Happened To Me'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmfObPmN_kI/AAAAAAAAAfA/vBKmgLNwjeI/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1175710129528405004</id><published>2009-07-21T15:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T15:52:55.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmZGvn3IBqI/AAAAAAAAAe4/ZLNdmk2EPhE/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 122px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmZGvn3IBqI/AAAAAAAAAe4/ZLNdmk2EPhE/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361050190399145634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1175710129528405004?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1175710129528405004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1175710129528405004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1175710129528405004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1175710129528405004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SmZGvn3IBqI/AAAAAAAAAe4/ZLNdmk2EPhE/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-9027829207338687833</id><published>2009-07-21T15:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T15:49:25.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>You wonder why anything I have to say would be of use for anyone, but it is useful to me.  Did you watch the NAACP Obama speech?  If not, please do.  It's amazing.  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zv6EAaoFNno"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zv6EAaoFNno.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what's great about our president:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes no crap from anyone.&lt;br /&gt;He says difficult things ("you're not all going to be 'Lil Wayne or LeBron") and he is funny.&lt;br /&gt;He makes mistakes and admits them.&lt;br /&gt;He works hard and then keeps working harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really like how he wears his pants though.  He's got a little of the mom-jean thing going.  Maybe he is trying hard to do the opposite of the butt- showing jean thing, but come on.  Be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in school this summer, teaching and learning.  Teaching in the day, schooling in the night.  I love it.  I was trying to figure out what's so great about going to school and it is the process of learning.  It is as if I can feel my brain getting smarter.  I'm a good student.  I ask questions, I press for understanding, I take notes, I do my homework (usually on time) and I help my classmates.  Why?  Because I care about the content and I care about learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I get this same thing going on in my class?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really, why should they care about linear functions and probability?   It's more fun to talk to boys and giggle and be cute.  Really?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-9027829207338687833?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/9027829207338687833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=9027829207338687833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9027829207338687833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9027829207338687833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1763107697569970256</id><published>2009-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:03:37.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did You Ever Notice?</title><content type='html'>Did you ever notice that on the day you have that appointment to get your haircut, your hair looks better than ever (just before the cut)?  AND when you call in sick to work the night before, you feel perfectly fine in the morning.  They are connected.  Think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1763107697569970256?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1763107697569970256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1763107697569970256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1763107697569970256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1763107697569970256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/05/did-you-ever-notice.html' title='Did You Ever Notice?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1754545622141693790</id><published>2009-05-12T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:01:50.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>I've often said that I have the all time greatest mother.  She is unique and lovely and a model for me.  I have so many great moments with her.  One of the moments that I keep close to my heart is a time when I was quite young I had a bloody nose in the middle of the night.  I remember sitting in the bathroom and she was on the floor sitting in front of me holding a cold cloth on my face and talking to me.  It was the middle of the night and I'm sure she was exhausted but she just calmly sat there with me until it stopped bleeding.  I loved and still love having time with her all to myself.  It didn't happen very often in my youth what with all the other children she had to have before and after me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some other things about my mother that I admire and adore:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never complains&lt;br /&gt;She knows the birthdates of my childhood friends ... still&lt;br /&gt;She has a better memory than anyone I know&lt;br /&gt;She can talk about her children and grandchildren for hours&lt;br /&gt;She is proud of all of us&lt;br /&gt;She feeds the poor&lt;br /&gt;She always made exactly what I wanted for lunch&lt;br /&gt;After school there would usually be a cookie or cupcake waiting for me&lt;br /&gt;She laughs hard at my dad's jokes&lt;br /&gt;She believes the best in everyone&lt;br /&gt;She never says no when someone asks for her help&lt;br /&gt;When she yelled (which was rare) I know she meant it&lt;br /&gt;When she said, "I'm never taking you girls shopping again" I  know she didn't mean it&lt;br /&gt;She listens&lt;br /&gt;She can laugh at herself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I am with her in the neighborhood someone inevitably stops her and says "Weren't you my pre-school teacher?"  And she will say, "Yes, and you were the boy who loved dinosaurs, and isn't your birthday on August 1, and how's your dog Fido?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being so fabulous Mom!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1754545622141693790?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1754545622141693790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1754545622141693790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1754545622141693790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1754545622141693790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8859796536648979100</id><published>2009-03-24T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T20:37:41.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When you Stopping Thinking About THAT Person</title><content type='html'>So you're with someone for a long long time.  And then one day they are gone.  Just how long does it take for the thoughts to stop?  I remember realizing "hey - I haven't thought about X for a day!"  And feeling relieved and surprised and astounded.  Because when it first happens, of course, you CANNOT get them out of your mind.  It is part of your breathing and your heart beat.  Your waking moments and so many things you see and hear and do that remind you.  But then a day goes by, and then another and another, then it's a week and then a month and then you know you are changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I think of it I just replace it with a happy thought - like a giant flower superimposed over the face or a hot fudge sundae or piece of chocolate cake.  It isn't easy.  It feels out of my control - but it is in our control.  WE CONTROL OUR THOUGHTS.  No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some random questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do nice shoes hurt so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who thinks yellow pants are a good idea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we live with animals in our home and pick up their poop and stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the matching socks and the covers to the markers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is stealing my pens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do pencils wear out so quickly and mostly have busted leads?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do teachers insist on pencils?  Aren't mistakes for learning?  Use pens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do other people like scotch tape like I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many fonts do we really need?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did we get two different kind of lower case a's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8859796536648979100?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8859796536648979100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8859796536648979100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8859796536648979100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8859796536648979100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-you-stopping-thinking-about-that.html' title='When you Stopping Thinking About THAT Person'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7501704912444892018</id><published>2009-02-15T20:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T20:35:33.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7501704912444892018?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7501704912444892018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7501704912444892018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7501704912444892018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7501704912444892018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-6781486004402184313</id><published>2009-02-15T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T20:15:45.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine</title><content type='html'>My darlings were home for Valentines.  I love having them near me.  It is comforting.  I get the whole animal thing now, more than before.  I feel like they are back in the nest.  I find myself hovering and protecting more than ever.  I growl when people are harming them - literally growling.  It is sort of embarrassing for them - but it is my job after all.  BACK OFF!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are both trying to find their way and it is lovely and precious to watch.  It is also painful and terrifying.  Of course I know the path they are on and I know most of the twists and turns that are coming up for them - but when I try to describe that to them, to warn them, and ease their burden, they don't  hear me.  It's just the way it is.  We all have to find our own way.  Sometimes I just want to yell, "HEY - YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO THAT WAY!  THERE IS AN EASIER ROUTE!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure my parents tried to help me too, but those years between 18 and 25 or so, you're really on your own.  You can't hear much advice even though you ask for it and want it.  You are on your own.  Forging you own path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They will be okay because they are smart and strong.  It's just hard to watch them go through the brambles and swamp waters.  It's hard to see my children hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll get more popsicles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-6781486004402184313?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/6781486004402184313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=6781486004402184313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6781486004402184313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6781486004402184313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine.html' title='Valentine'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5071620675864044888</id><published>2009-02-07T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T13:20:53.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>These Are The Days</title><content type='html'>The sun is shining and it is warm but please don't be stupid about it.  I mean, really, don't start saying things like, "Yeah, we're heading into spring."  Or, "We probably won't have any more below zero days."  It's talk like that that brings us all into a deep depression when it hits -5 at the end of February.  Just keep the mouths shut about the temperatures.  Be good Minnesotans and act like you actually enjoy the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each year I privately ask myself, when is it safe to say we won't have any more super cold days and we won't slip on the ice or have to get ticked off when digging for our keys in our pockets with gloves on?  I believe, here in Minnesota, the safest date is May 1.  I know - even that is risky.  But April - that's all in your face about spring time and Target pastel crap, but it snows and it's freezing cold in the mornings.  So - forget about April.  It's May and keep in mind that's a real long time from now.  Keep the long underwear on.  Don't be shy about layering well into March in April.  Believe me, I've been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great thing about winter is that it is similar to childbirth in the fact that we forget about it once we see and feel the beautiful face of spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please keep your weather comments to yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5071620675864044888?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5071620675864044888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5071620675864044888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5071620675864044888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5071620675864044888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/02/these-are-days.html' title='These Are The Days'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-817648487258598265</id><published>2009-02-03T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T16:53:09.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February in Minnesota</title><content type='html'>There are days when I feel my head filled with creativity.  Stories for my blog!  A creation waiting to be formed.  And there are days like today when I feel my head crammed with ideas and general stress - but no clear thoughts.  Just all jumbled up.  So - it is times like these when I make lists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that bother me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Running into people because they don't follow the unspoken rule of "stay to the right".&lt;br /&gt;2) Running out of napkins.&lt;br /&gt;3) Having to figure out grown-up stuff like taxes and insurance.&lt;br /&gt;4) Not having flying cars by now.&lt;br /&gt;5) Cake with nuts or fruit.&lt;br /&gt;6) Cookies with raisins, nuts, or fruit mixed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I find hilarious:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Lisps on the radio.&lt;br /&gt;2) People trying to be serious about things that don't matter - like taxes and insurance.&lt;br /&gt;3) Witty jokes that are left unexplained.&lt;br /&gt;4) Middle school students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that matter:&lt;br /&gt;1) Relationships&lt;br /&gt;2) Finding ways to be kind&lt;br /&gt;3) Being kind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that don't matter&lt;br /&gt;1)  Everything else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-817648487258598265?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/817648487258598265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=817648487258598265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/817648487258598265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/817648487258598265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-in-minnesota.html' title='February in Minnesota'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5266481057577110898</id><published>2009-01-22T17:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T17:48:19.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Can You Not Be Excited?</title><content type='html'>It &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; a new day.  This &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; the moment.  It's all about &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;virtue&lt;/span&gt;.  What a week!  What a country!  What a man! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet daughter and I had dinner this evening and we talked about the historic nature of our times - this week in particular.  And she was struck by how much everyone is talking about how historic this is - she wondered whether it's allowed to talk about history and to "mark it" as history as it is unfolding.  It seems a little like cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wondered if people really realized the importance of those days of dreaming and hoping with Martin Luther King.  It was before the internet and cell phones and 24/7 CNN updates.  How did it all unfold and when did people really realize the power and importance of those moments and those words and actions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that I am here now to live these moments.  I am ready to do what I can to help this country along.  We are excited to see it unfold and to be apart of creating and working toward something better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will it look like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5266481057577110898?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5266481057577110898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5266481057577110898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5266481057577110898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5266481057577110898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-can-you-not-be-excited.html' title='How Can You Not Be Excited?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-9109248133613882960</id><published>2009-01-11T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:34:01.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It Really A Good Idea to Live Here?</title><content type='html'>I think living in Minnesota is sort of like childbirth.  It's extremely painful, but astonishingly wonderful.  I'm cold from about October to April.  I'm freezing at this moment even though I am wearing long underwear and two layers on top of that, I have the heat cranked, and  a space heater blowing on my legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In May and June we forget about all this pain and revel in the beauty of Minnesota spring.  I can't wait to forget this January.  Brrr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-9109248133613882960?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/9109248133613882960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=9109248133613882960' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9109248133613882960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9109248133613882960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/01/is-it-really-good-idea-to-live-here.html' title='Is It Really A Good Idea to Live Here?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4953435832899817888</id><published>2009-01-05T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:23:29.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blown Fuse</title><content type='html'>Do you remember the first time you blew a fuse and had to figure out how to fix it?  I remember distinctly.  I was living in one of my first apartments - it was groovy because it was very old.  The coolest thing about it was that it had one of those Wizard of Oz basements - you know, the kind where you had to go outside and lift up a door to get in?  There was a dirt floor and lots of monsters and critters in there.  I had never even gone in the basement - I just knew it existed.  But then of course, I blew a fuse and I had to replace it.  I had to do a lot of positive self talk to get myself to go down into the dungeon, but I did it.  Did I mention it had a dirt floor and one of those naked light bulbs that sort of clanged and buzzed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in life, after I bought my own house, I would often call my dad when I had fuse or electrical problems.  There were times when even replacing the fuse didn't fix the problem - so I called Dad.  He lives within walking distance and I always told myself that he wanted to come over to visit, so why not give him an excuse to do so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today when I got home from work, but 18 year old daughter tells me she blew and replaced a fuse.  I was flabbergasted.  She said it with such a nonchalant attitude, as if it was the simplest thing ever.  I asked her how she fixed it and she said, well I went down stairs and took a look and replaced it.  And then I asked her how she knew how to do it and this is where the magic comes in... she googled it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call Dad, she googles.  Progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4953435832899817888?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4953435832899817888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4953435832899817888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4953435832899817888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4953435832899817888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2009/01/blown-fuse.html' title='The Blown Fuse'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4330241942360461229</id><published>2008-12-26T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T10:28:45.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>50 Years of Marriage</title><content type='html'>My parents will be married 50 years tomorrow.  Their marriage is amazing and wonderful and inspiring.  It makes me think about marriage and relationships and all of that.  I've not managed to figure it out for myself, but I think one of the keys to their marriage is that they decided long ago, probably about 50 years ago, that they were in it together, for the long haul, no matter what.  They decided that they were going on this journey together and they would make it work.  They decided to be married and share a life together.  Now, I know that sounds simple and obvious but really, once they decided to be together it was always a "given", sort of like breathing.  Sure I can remember difficult moments.  Sometimes I thought my dad was a little too hard on my mom.  And I can remember my mom being worn out from her kids and her aging parents and the grandkids she helped raise.  But that never made me think they loved each other less.  Now when I spend time with them I see how they enjoy each other's company every day.  My mom laughs at my dad's jokes as if she is on her first date with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been going through old photographs of my family and I feel pride, nostalgia and love for my parents and my siblings.  I had and still have a joyful family.  Sure, we're competitive and we don't share the same political or religious views but when we are all together in a room talking about camping and our disastrous dog, Pepsi, or the road trip to Florida - we're all laughing our heads off and remembering and enjoying one another.  We all live in Minneapolis, I think 5 of us are in the same zip code.  My brother John tried to move away once, but that didn't last long.  Our proximity to my parents says a lot about what they did for us and for each other these 50 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Pat and John!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4330241942360461229?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4330241942360461229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4330241942360461229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4330241942360461229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4330241942360461229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/12/50-years-of-marriage.html' title='50 Years of Marriage'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-477788872545202760</id><published>2008-12-09T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:35:23.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Church</title><content type='html'>It's a rift in the family sometimes.  I grew up Catholic and some of my siblings still go to the church of my childhood.  I go to church and sing in the choir of a church that is a better fit for me.  Here are some things I love about my church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Lots of people attend every Sunday - its always a full house&lt;br /&gt;2) I am greeted every Sunday with a smiling someone saying hello&lt;br /&gt;3) People laugh and applaud and sometimes cry during mass (yes - I said mass)&lt;br /&gt;4) Everyone is included - no one has to skip communion because they are not Catholic&lt;br /&gt;5) My feelings at the conclusion of the mass include:  elation, belonging, happiness, responsibility, joy, peace, wonder . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my parents join me at my church - but they still belong to their other church.&lt;br /&gt;It's as if they feel guilty about being happy about going to a different church.  Standard Catholic guilt I guess.  Me, I just feel glad that I found SJA.  And that it has let me blossom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why people go to churches that are exclusive and depressing.  That's not for me.  Would Jesus be proud of our churches?  Probably not.  But He wouldn't point it out - that was never His style.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-477788872545202760?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/477788872545202760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=477788872545202760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/477788872545202760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/477788872545202760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/12/church.html' title='Church'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2021149619710448721</id><published>2008-11-28T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T13:33:35.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/STBjm-Sg8aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/McdKrJZubL8/s1600-h/100_0121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/STBjm-Sg8aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/McdKrJZubL8/s320/100_0121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273824684857684386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister M and her husband J are always doing up a great Thanksgiving meal.  I like to spend my time with them in the kitchen before dinner, helping out when possible and trying to keep track of my wine glass.  It seemed a little calmer this year and I'm not sure why.  The meal was excellent.  I realized that I usually sit in exactly the same seat for Thanksgiving at my sister's house.  We've had Thanksgiving there for about the last 5 years and I always sit in the same spot.  Now that I think of it everyone sits in the same spot.  What's with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some things I'm thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) my two healthy funny children&lt;br /&gt;2) being born in this time and place&lt;br /&gt;3) my sisters, brothers, and parents&lt;br /&gt;4) my boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;4) my friends&lt;br /&gt;5) a job I love&lt;br /&gt;6) my students who make me feel alive&lt;br /&gt;7) humor&lt;br /&gt;8) ideas&lt;br /&gt;9) cupcakes with lots of frosting&lt;br /&gt;10) floss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE COMPACT&lt;br /&gt;http://groups.msn.com/MNCompact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really possible?  Okay - so last year about the time I started this blog I really wanted to try to not buy anything new for a year.  I failed at it.  But I did buy less.  Now I'm ready to try again - to take it more seriously and really really try.  Who needs stuff?  I have all I need.  Even though at Target it seems like I don't have all I need.  I really do have all I need and no, I don't need that cute rug or lamp or whatever it is.  Gifts?  I will sew and bake and regift.  Sew, bake, and regift.  I think food is okay.  No more stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little disappointed with the cupcake poll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2021149619710448721?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2021149619710448721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2021149619710448721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2021149619710448721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2021149619710448721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-2008.html' title='Thanksgiving 2008'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/STBjm-Sg8aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/McdKrJZubL8/s72-c/100_0121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-6573401646669326619</id><published>2008-11-11T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T16:56:47.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend With The Kids</title><content type='html'>J and I raked.  The raking day is always cold and damp and the leaves are heavy.  I did no coaxing.  He happily came out and raked with me.  Looking up and smiling at me every once in a while.  I don't know how a mother could be more proud.  It is as if I can see them growing up.  It's almost like the days when they were learning to walk and talk.  Every day was something new.  And now, every home visit has a newness to it.  A new way of learning to live with these adult children of mine.  J asks me how I'm doing now that I'm on my own, no kids at home.  I don't like to think about it too much - it's hard and lonesome and worriesome and wonderful all at the same time.  I am loving this time in their lives and I'm figuring out this time in my life.  I need to carve out space and have some time to live in it for a while.  It freaks me out to even think of what I would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving is only two weeks away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-6573401646669326619?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/6573401646669326619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=6573401646669326619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6573401646669326619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6573401646669326619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/11/weekend-with-kids.html' title='Weekend With The Kids'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-190833142989929414</id><published>2008-11-01T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T16:21:47.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher Conference</title><content type='html'>Okay so I almost cried three times during the keynote address.  They had to show darling pictures of middle school students holding inspirational words like (hope, determination, etc,) while playing enlightening music.  I love going to conferences like that.  It's uplifting and rejuvenating.  Did I learn anything?  Yes - but I have more questions now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I get students to believe in themselves?&lt;br /&gt;How do I convince them that I believe in them?&lt;br /&gt;How much does content count if you don't know how to teach?&lt;br /&gt;How do we change our teaching because the kids have changed the way they learn?&lt;br /&gt;What does an "A" mean to a 12 year-old who is homeless, hungry, and beat up?  Or an "F" for that matter?&lt;br /&gt;Where can I do the most good? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite ideas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never stop trying to become qualified for your job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The signature of a great leader is humility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a "not doing" list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love what I do.  I can't wait to get back on Monday.  Bring it on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-190833142989929414?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/190833142989929414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=190833142989929414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/190833142989929414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/190833142989929414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/11/teacher-conference.html' title='Teacher Conference'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8007117465690831070</id><published>2008-10-27T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T18:11:10.523-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Beautiful Fall Day'/><title type='text'>What's Going On?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SQZlO-SyNtI/AAAAAAAAAQA/CncT1ofXUAs/s1600-h/100_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SQZlO-SyNtI/AAAAAAAAAQA/CncT1ofXUAs/s320/100_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262004522543363794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SQZk8hhWl7I/AAAAAAAAAP4/2kyqH7vwMHY/s1600-h/100_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 219px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SQZk8hhWl7I/AAAAAAAAAP4/2kyqH7vwMHY/s320/100_0068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262004205582194610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm okay with sharing the wealth, spreading it out.  It's surprising to me that the idea of "sharing the wealth" is thought of as bad in any way.  What's bad about helping those who are less fortunate?  What's bad about helping someone if you have a little more to give?  It's ironic that those who tend to put themselves in the extremely Christian camp seem to be unable to remember the big message.  Be nice to one another!  Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my 25 year high school reunion on Saturday.  It was a fun time.  I'm both glad I went and glad it is over.  It is similar to a family gathering.  Even though we have all lived completely separate lives for the last 25 years and have seen nothing of one another, we all revert back to exactly how we acted when we were snotty nosed teenagers hanging around the high school.  The snooty people were still snooty (but a little chubby), the quiet difficult people were still unable to carry on much of a conversation.  There were some shining stars.  One in particular was inspiring.  Here was a woman who was not in the "cool" crowd and sometimes made fun of.  Here she was the most beautiful woman in the room, strong, smart, humble, and really really funny.  I love it when that happens!  GO TO YOUR REUNIONS PEOPLE.  You'll never regret it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8007117465690831070?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8007117465690831070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8007117465690831070' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8007117465690831070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8007117465690831070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/10/whats-going-on.html' title='What&apos;s Going On?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SQZlO-SyNtI/AAAAAAAAAQA/CncT1ofXUAs/s72-c/100_0057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-553035978857445730</id><published>2008-10-20T18:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T18:54:19.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisconsin Weekend</title><content type='html'>J and M are growing up.  It's great and fun and sad and scary and extremely cool.  M is happily hanging out in the big city, meeting new people, figuring out the bus, living her life, making big plans.  J is hanging with his soccer pals, studying hard, worrying too much, and watching TV.  I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a link to our weekend adventure:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/marthaspriggs/WisconsinWeekend#&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-553035978857445730?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/553035978857445730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=553035978857445730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/553035978857445730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/553035978857445730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/10/wisconsin-weekend.html' title='Wisconsin Weekend'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4743603519421206752</id><published>2008-10-12T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T19:49:35.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growning Up</title><content type='html'>My daughter came home this weekend to check out a different school.  Yes, it's true she's only been away 6 weeks or so and she is already looking for something new.  And as I sat across from her at dinner I was filled with awe and pride as she explained her plan.  She grew up in these last weeks.  She solidified her views and found her voice and her passion.  M has always been brave with her ideas and action.  She does what feels right to her and fights to be her unique self.  I'm amazed at her strength and clarity.  I listened and asked questions.  Then we went to visit the school and she was clearly at home and excited and energized.  She started dreaming and planning and I can't wait to see what she does next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4743603519421206752?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4743603519421206752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4743603519421206752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4743603519421206752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4743603519421206752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/10/growning-up.html' title='Growning Up'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5548384705838483140</id><published>2008-10-12T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T19:45:26.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Politics in My Yard</title><content type='html'>On Saturday morning I woke up to a bright beautiful fall day and noticed that someone had removed my three yard signs.  One of the signs was an anti-war sign, one was a plea to get people to vote yes to the school referendum and the third sign was in support of our next president.  What's with that?  I was at first very angry and felt that of course, people of that "ilk" would do something like that.  I mean that ilk is filled with stupid destructive childish people.  But then of course I realized that my rage was getting me down to the same level as them.  So, I made some cookies and got a new yard sign.  I wonder if they felt good taking down my signs.  I hope so because then the signs did more good than I thought.  I wonder if they thought that taking down my signs would make people stop thinking about the war and the schools and our new president?  Are they afraid of me and my signs or my ideas?  Or are they just some pranksters?  I am still a bit miffed.  It seems like this election is extra emotional and heated.  People are afraid to hope for something different.  It's all I think about and dream of.  I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5548384705838483140?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5548384705838483140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5548384705838483140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5548384705838483140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5548384705838483140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/10/politics-in-my-yard.html' title='Politics in My Yard'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3100725110165582276</id><published>2008-09-18T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:32:04.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile on Your Brother</title><content type='html'>Don't you think we should all smile on one another more?  It seems like a simple thing to move the world along a little bit in a happier direction.  So try it today, smile on someone.  Force yourself to do it.  You will be amazed at the results. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never used to look at drivers.  You know, when I am driving in my car I just sort of see the car as a "being" and never really bothered to look at the person.  Lately, I've been looking at the person and smiling.  Mostly I get smiles back.  I smile on my bike and at the grocery store.  Sometimes I try to smile while waiting in line (that's difficult for me). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last spring I read a lovely book, The Encyclopedia of Ordinary Life.  It's by Amy Krouse Rozenthal.  The book is filled with sweetness.  I sent her an email after I read it and she responded very kindly.  Yesterday, she sent me this link for a new project.  Take a look and pass it on and please smile on your brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QVQSZA9zSk" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?&lt;wbr&gt;v=0QVQSZA9zSk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3100725110165582276?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3100725110165582276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3100725110165582276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3100725110165582276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3100725110165582276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/09/smile-on-your-brother.html' title='Smile on Your Brother'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2387837191654796858</id><published>2008-09-07T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:07:30.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All By Myself</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's not so bad being on my own, having no one to cook for and clean up after.  There are some positives.  I'm not sure what they are right off the top of my head.  I'm cleaning up the basement now.  The basement is what I refer to as the "dorm room dungeon".  For the past year or so I've just given up.  I spend very little time down there except for laundry and an occasional pizza delivery.  So today I cleaned out J's room and came upon some nice little surprises.  My outside trash can is full and I filled two bags of stuff to go to ARC.  Then I needed to move the couch which is also a hide-a-bed.  That's a funny word.  I called my sister who has three strapping boys.  No answer.  I called my other sister who has a strong husband . . . nothing.  Then I called my 72 year-old-dad.  My mom answered and I told her my plan, she said, "I don't think he should be doing that."  Of course my dad heard my mom and he was over in about 3 minutes.  I have the knees of an 80 year old (that's what my doctor says with a sad kind of look) and my dad has the mind and soul of a 30 year old, but he's 72.  So we haul it up the stairs laughing a little and getting stuck, but we do it.  It feels good to get the gross couch out of the house and to feel like both of us probably did a little more than we should have physically, but we did it.  I've got go ice my knees now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2387837191654796858?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2387837191654796858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2387837191654796858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2387837191654796858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2387837191654796858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/09/all-by-myself.html' title='All By Myself'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4622328333531238602</id><published>2008-09-01T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:48:11.508-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M and J Go to College'/><title type='text'>Pride and Worry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLylC2CzXGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/vnJL_E2RFVY/s1600-h/100_0011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLylC2CzXGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/vnJL_E2RFVY/s320/100_0011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241245534638005346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLyk6OhixFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/kBHsKPFXPlU/s1600-h/100_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLyk6OhixFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/kBHsKPFXPlU/s320/100_0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241245386590569554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Friday I took M to college!  It was a bright sunny day and a long drive.  We mostly listened to her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; where she had created a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playlist&lt;/span&gt; for the trip.  One of the many things I adore about M is that her taste in music has a wide range.  She likes many of the same things I like and we sang along and avoided the difficult goodbye-you're-growing-up conversation.  We got to her dorm earlier than expected and we were able to move in.  We wanted to get in before her room mate arrived because of space etc., so we started the move.  Everything went pretty smooth.  There were a few funny moments and some sad.  There was a point when she turned to me and said, "Mom, I'm not ready for college!"  She had the same tone of voice and expression that I remember feeling in the midst of childbirth.  I remember thinking, "Hey, I don't want to do this - I've changed my mind!"  Of course, I also knew it was inevitable - the pain would come and out would come a beautiful girl.  So in a few minutes, M said, "Okay, I guess I'm ready."  Friday night I went to see my son, J, play in his first college soccer game.  He did great - played most of the game and worked hard.  In the morning the three of us had breakfast and I dropped J off at soccer and proceeded to find the nearest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;.  Yuck.  Why hasn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; figured out that with some better lighting and wider aisles their customers would be happier?  Is it that hard?  So I loaded my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; cart with a mini fridge, a shower caddy, a shoe storage thing, and other critical dorm supplies and headed for J's game.  After the game we all went to M's dorm and finished unpacking and getting it all set up.  She has a glorious few of Lake Michigan. We went to dinner and said our goodbyes.  Friday was harder for M and Saturday was harder for me.  I'm glad we weren't both bawling our eyes out.  One of us had to be the strong one.  I drove J back to his school and helped him clean out his fridge.  We stopped at another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; (no kidding) to load up on some hostess goodness and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Gatorade&lt;/span&gt;.  It was hard to say goodbye.  I drove away with an ache that is still there.  I am very proud of my children.  They are both smart, strong, caring human beings and I know they will be okay.  It's hard to not feel their presence nearby.  I worry more - much more but I have to believe that all the things we have done together for the first 18 years will help them make good healthy choices now.  The feeling I have is sort of like the feeling you get after you've had the flu real bad, you know the kind when you have barfing and a high fever?  The feeling I have is the way you feel the day you go back to work after being sick with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;barfy&lt;/span&gt; flu.  Another way to think of it is the feeling you have after you've been crying real hard and you have the residual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hiccup&lt;/span&gt; gasp post-cry thing going on.  That's how I feel.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Empty&lt;/span&gt;, sad, worried, and VERY proud.  They are beautiful amazing funny caring smart kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4622328333531238602?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4622328333531238602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4622328333531238602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4622328333531238602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4622328333531238602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/09/pride-and-worry.html' title='Pride and Worry'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLylC2CzXGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/vnJL_E2RFVY/s72-c/100_0011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8724593804676257235</id><published>2008-08-25T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T18:44:58.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No, They Are Not As Good as My Sister's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLNZqTOVTXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/V9NbzzJgDyU/s1600-h/100_0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLNZqTOVTXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/V9NbzzJgDyU/s200/100_0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238629374811786610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I try, I really do.  It used to just be my son who reminded me that my baking would never measure up to my sister's.  But last night as my daughter and I hung out together, feeling the first crisp fall air blow through the windows, she also, gave my sister the cookie nod.  She said, "Hey mom, can you make some cookies?"  Of course, I tell her.  Then she says,  "Mom, can you just try a little harder...?"  I stop her and tell her I'll do my best.  I think they taste fine.  Don't they look good?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8724593804676257235?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8724593804676257235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8724593804676257235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8724593804676257235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8724593804676257235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-they-are-not-as-good-as-my-sisters.html' title='No, They Are Not As Good as My Sister&apos;s'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SLNZqTOVTXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/V9NbzzJgDyU/s72-c/100_0002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-6794239593947616773</id><published>2008-08-11T19:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T19:07:25.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-6794239593947616773?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/6794239593947616773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=6794239593947616773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6794239593947616773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6794239593947616773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7508907516374941272</id><published>2008-08-11T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T18:43:40.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprising</title><content type='html'>In March or April of this year when the presidential primaries were all crazy I had my class of 30 middle school students write letters to the candidates asking them some questions about their views on topics such as education, immigration, the economy,  and global warming (they chose the topics).  We wrote to 8 candidates, four on each side.  NONE responded by May.  So we wrote again, still nothing.  I wrote a follow up letter in June and still NOTHING.  I'm surprised and sad. Come on!  Those letters came from real people with real issues needing real answers.  Sheesh! Not even Ron Paul responded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7508907516374941272?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7508907516374941272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7508907516374941272' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7508907516374941272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7508907516374941272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/08/surprising.html' title='Surprising'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8135198092077887132</id><published>2008-08-11T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T18:26:23.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Water</title><content type='html'>I was up on the great Gunflint Trail this past week for more forced family fun.  There are many moments I will cherish and some that I will try hard to forget.  On day three I was at the dock getting ready to go fishing with the kids on our evening walleye hunt.  As I was reaching from the dock to hand something to the son my camera fell into the water.  There was a brief shriek and I looked at J to DO SOMETHING!  The camera was in about 5 feet of water, still visible from the surface.  First he tried grabbing for it but he couldn't get his arm deep enough from the dock. Then he raced up the 25 or so steps to our cabin at the top of the hill and emerged with a wimpy pair of tongs.  After about 5 minutes of trying to grab the camera with the tongs he gave up and again ran up the stairs only to emerge about 5 minutes later toweling off his hair.  M and I laughed our heads off then I ran up to get my swim suit on and I got the camera out.  It is broken of course, beyond repair.  Five other families came up and joined us mid-week and two other cameras took to the water.  I believe the other two cameras are still functioning.  We saw loads of wild life including a bear cub, a mom moose and child moose, three otters, a bald eagle, several turtles, a snake, and a gazillion mosquitos.  We took three nice canoe trips and I was glad that J had recovered enough from his soccer ankle injury enough to portage the canoe.  J goes to school on Friday.  I think that will be a fine day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will have no photos for a while - until I can find a camera on Craig's list I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8135198092077887132?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8135198092077887132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8135198092077887132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8135198092077887132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8135198092077887132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-water.html' title='In The Water'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2876285475742066157</id><published>2008-07-27T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T19:45:28.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forced Family Fun</title><content type='html'>On Saturday I had the need for some forced family fun with my two teenagers who are weeks away from leaving for college.  So we go bowling.  In the car on the way to the bowling alley it is pretty much silent, so I play some music.  Nothing.  Then we get to the bowling alley and get settled and J says, "Do they have food here?"  That's his focus in life.  Thank the lord they have food and he starts ordering.  We start bowling.  We finish the game in about 26 minutes.  I get 5 strikes and have to yell, "Hey kids - I got a strike!" to get them out of their teenage stupor.  M sashays up to the foul line and lets go of the ball mid air.  There is a loud crash the ball teeters down the alley - usually going directly towards a gutter.  Then she sashays back sullenly and sits down.  She starts chewing her hair.  J on the other hand throws the ball the rock star way - you know, you don't put your fingers into the holes, you just sort of hold the ball in the palm of your hand and use your wrist to give it a good spin.  It went fast, very fast, banging hard into the gutter most frames.  So I kicked butt but neither of them really noticed.  I bowl about once a year and it's always with them.  So we get home and M marches to her room and J goes to the basement.  About an hour later they emerge.  M is light hearted for some reason and walks over to me and says, "Wasn't that the crappiest family fun time ever?"  We all laugh and I ask them why it went the way it did.  Neither of them could tell me put they found it entirely out of character.  I wonder how many strikes I'll get next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2876285475742066157?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2876285475742066157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2876285475742066157' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2876285475742066157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2876285475742066157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/forced-family-fun.html' title='Forced Family Fun'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7058372165802418435</id><published>2008-07-25T20:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T20:26:51.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIqZckgWsPI/AAAAAAAAAIs/kkNtnpnjPhk/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIqZckgWsPI/AAAAAAAAAIs/kkNtnpnjPhk/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227159033631650034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7058372165802418435?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7058372165802418435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7058372165802418435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7058372165802418435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7058372165802418435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/peace.html' title='Peace'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIqZckgWsPI/AAAAAAAAAIs/kkNtnpnjPhk/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8994201998962166855</id><published>2008-07-24T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:27:14.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids and Teaching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlHJX-K2JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/xQcVEQMLFyA/s1600-h/IMG_1557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlHJX-K2JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/xQcVEQMLFyA/s200/IMG_1557.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226787068919339154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at the sweetness of these boys.  We are building a space shuttle and International Space Station out of plastic, tape, and some air pushed into it with a fan.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ISS&lt;/span&gt; was looking sort of sad so the four of us did some sleuthing and fixed the trouble.  We just needed more tape and some patience.  These boys were so proud of their work.  We sat back and watch the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ISS&lt;/span&gt; come to life.  Teaching is so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;exhilarating&lt;/span&gt;.  It is indescribable.  Sometimes I feel guilty about it because the feeling I get after a day with boys like this is so similar to the feeling I get after I eat an entire carton of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Haagen&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Daz&lt;/span&gt;.  Pure joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8994201998962166855?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8994201998962166855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8994201998962166855' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8994201998962166855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8994201998962166855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/kids-and-teaching.html' title='Kids and Teaching'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlHJX-K2JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/xQcVEQMLFyA/s72-c/IMG_1557.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8269083215586312660</id><published>2008-07-24T20:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:21:02.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Town Where I Live</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlFdMOi8xI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2bHDwyLGlHY/s1600-h/IMG_1462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlFdMOi8xI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2bHDwyLGlHY/s200/IMG_1462.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226785210340930322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you ever think about where you live?  I love where I live but I know I don't appreciate it enough.  One day last week I rode to the falls where I spent some time looking at this.  I live 10 minutes from this.  These falls are falling all the time - right now the water is running over the rocks and crashing down to the creek below.  I can reach back to that moment - to the beauty of what is there now anytime.  It is there for me always.  Every summer I drive up north with my two kids and we marvel at what beauty exists in our state.  We are quiet as we drive through rock tunnels and hills that end in views that bring tears to our eyes.  There is one point in our drive when the lake ahead of us looks like it is above us - hanging in the sky in front of us.  It is at that moment that we are together loving the world.  Plus - no bugs in the car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8269083215586312660?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8269083215586312660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8269083215586312660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8269083215586312660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8269083215586312660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/town-i-live-in.html' title='The Town Where I Live'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlFdMOi8xI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2bHDwyLGlHY/s72-c/IMG_1462.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1826957233004950579</id><published>2008-07-24T20:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:13:12.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlDlVKIyiI/AAAAAAAAAIU/IMJ0qePqIj0/s1600-h/IMG_1568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlDlVKIyiI/AAAAAAAAAIU/IMJ0qePqIj0/s200/IMG_1568.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226783151154055714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She got new glasses today.  One thing I love about M (there are many) is that she doesn't give a hoot what others think about her.  These glasses are straight out of 1981 and they are darling and so is she.  She is often trying to explain to me the pain of not being able to see.  She has worn contacts for about 6 years or so and I'm always on her case about wearing them to bed (which is bad for her eyes!).  And she says that the reason she wears them to bed is that she is blind without them, so we got her glasses to ease the bed time blindness.  The other thing I love about M is her independence and willingness to figure stuff out.  She always finds a job, gets her classes changed, talks to her counselor with little or no help from me.  Sometimes I have to remind myself she's really just a kid and she might want to feel little for a while longer.  Notice the tilt of the head.  She's got it down.  M recently got a picture of her grandmother from about 55 years ago and she had the exact same tilt - even in the same direction.  We're all the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1826957233004950579?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1826957233004950579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1826957233004950579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1826957233004950579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1826957233004950579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/daughter.html' title='The Daughter'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SIlDlVKIyiI/AAAAAAAAAIU/IMJ0qePqIj0/s72-c/IMG_1568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-8948092083997808978</id><published>2008-07-24T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:05:51.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Car Accident</title><content type='html'>The Sunday after school was out, Sally Jo crashed into me.  She was turning right which is generally allowed unless there is a car on your right already.  She bashed into me and then seemed kind of peeved.  I practiced my calm breathing and then imagined stabbing her.  It worked!  After lots of phone calls and a week of driving a PT Cruiser rental (TRUE!) - I got my car back all shiny smooth and clean.  Sally Jo's insurance coughed it up.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing that bothered me the most was the moment right after the impact.  It was one of those things that was obviously the fault of the "other" and I looked over at her thinking she would be looking all alarmed and apologetic but instead she was looking angry and ticked off.  Well, Sally Jo, you were in the wrong and I have my sweet little car back.  My only pain was driving the PT Cruiser for a week.  Do people actually buy those cars off the lot?  It's like driving a joke for a car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-8948092083997808978?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/8948092083997808978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=8948092083997808978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8948092083997808978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/8948092083997808978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/car-accident.html' title='The Car Accident'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1379016735320519923</id><published>2008-07-15T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T19:39:55.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1fY-vbmzI/AAAAAAAAAIM/jmISq4afm7E/s1600-h/IMG_1433.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1fY-vbmzI/AAAAAAAAAIM/jmISq4afm7E/s200/IMG_1433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223436025583082290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1379016735320519923?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1379016735320519923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1379016735320519923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1379016735320519923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1379016735320519923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/salad.html' title='Salad'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1fY-vbmzI/AAAAAAAAAIM/jmISq4afm7E/s72-c/IMG_1433.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-9062937645343936951</id><published>2008-07-15T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T19:38:29.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Time Drying</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1e1y_n47I/AAAAAAAAAIE/FdpHhkccQfc/s1600-h/IMG_1432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1e1y_n47I/AAAAAAAAAIE/FdpHhkccQfc/s200/IMG_1432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223435421134349234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes the clothes get a little crunchy in the sun but it's better than running the dryer when it's 90.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-9062937645343936951?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/9062937645343936951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=9062937645343936951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9062937645343936951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9062937645343936951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/summer-time-drying.html' title='Summer Time Drying'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SH1e1y_n47I/AAAAAAAAAIE/FdpHhkccQfc/s72-c/IMG_1432.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3395543197769291524</id><published>2008-07-14T17:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:09:50.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Garden!</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm trying very hard to upload a current photo of my vegetable garden.  It is looking beautiful.  I have enjoyed several salads (to cancel out the cupcakes) and lots of pesto.  The tomatoes are just starting to form.  The plants seem heavy so I'll have to reinforce them with some stakes.  So I was getting mad about this upload business and said to myself  "crap!"  I really like that word.  I don't consider it a curse word but I know that many people do consider it a curse word.  When I say it to students they are often taken aback.  I think it is funny because I pretty much never use the other real bad words.  Get over it for crap's sake.  I wish I could show you my garden picture but I'm getting some error message.  Crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3395543197769291524?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3395543197769291524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3395543197769291524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3395543197769291524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3395543197769291524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-garden.html' title='My Garden!'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2452420322251882464</id><published>2008-07-14T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:11:22.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Show and Tell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHvnP9oLxGI/AAAAAAAAAH8/NiBVRqJt5GQ/s1600-h/IMG_1443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHvnP9oLxGI/AAAAAAAAAH8/NiBVRqJt5GQ/s200/IMG_1443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223022454293382242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I'm teaching summer school this year half time.  It was hard to decide to do it.  I've often said that I'm a better teacher because I've never taught summer school.  Usually, I feel like I need the break but this year is different because I had a lighter student load this past year and the summer school project we're doing isn't the usual paper and pencil kind of summer school.  We're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;building&lt;/span&gt; a 1/4 scale model of the space shuttle and international space station out of plastic and gobs of duct tape.  Today N, a fifth grader asked me several times if I wanted to see her frog.  I said, "Is it real?"  And she said yes and then started digging in her purse.  She spent a few minutes digging and I thought "There is no way she has a real frog and if she does it's probably dead by now" - what with all the digging in the purse.  She couldn't find it.  About 20 minutes later I saw the frog hopping along minding its own business.  So I picked it and asked N to take it outside to live.  A few minutes later a different student found an ant and smashed it to death with her foot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2452420322251882464?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2452420322251882464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2452420322251882464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2452420322251882464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2452420322251882464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/show-and-tell.html' title='Show and Tell'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHvnP9oLxGI/AAAAAAAAAH8/NiBVRqJt5GQ/s72-c/IMG_1443.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3270432960306572098</id><published>2008-07-10T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T17:53:25.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys Like Farting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHauOdhtXHI/AAAAAAAAAFE/iNiHN8Wr994/s1600-h/IMG_1429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHauOdhtXHI/AAAAAAAAAFE/iNiHN8Wr994/s200/IMG_1429.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221552381450083442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHauCyU6o5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/FtrKxfpLozs/s1600-h/IMG_1424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 122px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHauCyU6o5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/FtrKxfpLozs/s200/IMG_1424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221552180875142034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is there anything cuter than this boy working hard to make a fart on his arm?  This is my son, J, at his "fishing" class.  I stopped by on my bike and found him surrounded by all his little students who were working hard to make the best farting noise.  J announced to the kids, "hey, look it's my mom!" and you would have thought I was Joe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Maurer's&lt;/span&gt; mom.  They looked at me with wonder and amazement and eagerly shared their farts with me.  Why do boys like farting, making farting noises and talking about farts so much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3270432960306572098?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3270432960306572098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3270432960306572098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3270432960306572098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3270432960306572098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/boys-like-farting.html' title='Boys Like Farting'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHauOdhtXHI/AAAAAAAAAFE/iNiHN8Wr994/s72-c/IMG_1429.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-6461165090678317185</id><published>2008-07-07T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T19:53:26.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Is Good</title><content type='html'>Today was summer school training.  It is thrilling to teach.  I love it.  I love getting ready, planning, getting nervous, wondering if the kids will like me, hoping they are not too bored, knowing they won't laugh at my jokes.  Just remember that the first day of school your teacher is always just as nervous (or more so) than you are.  Doesn't that make you feel better?  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are building a 1/4 scale model of the space shuttle and international space station.  I hope to post pictures as we go.  Stay tuned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-6461165090678317185?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/6461165090678317185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=6461165090678317185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6461165090678317185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6461165090678317185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/work-is-good.html' title='Work Is Good'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-265579645560539381</id><published>2008-07-06T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T18:27:15.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember When We Were Young?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFvvBzbNVI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XXI3XJJLDPg/s1600-h/IMG_1388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFvvBzbNVI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XXI3XJJLDPg/s200/IMG_1388.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220076296827778386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFvlXpTucI/AAAAAAAAAEs/R_mkhden6ds/s1600-h/IMG_1385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFvlXpTucI/AAAAAAAAAEs/R_mkhden6ds/s200/IMG_1385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220076130892233154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so at the cabin for the fourth of J we got this giant water trampoline.  On the instructions it said, "Don't jump on this".  What the?!  Then we had about an hour long discussion about how to get it into water at exactly the right depth and not too close to the neighbor's docks and stuff.  Finally G and J just got into the boat and towed it out there.  We wanted J to get on top of it and drop the anchor but as you can see, it didn't really go all that smooth.  I found it to be great entertainment.  Anyway, it got into the water at a fine depth.  The kids swam out to it and realized it was the cheap version of the real water trampoline that our neighbors had so they jumped off and swam over to the neighbors trampoline and had a real good time.  M and M sprawled out on the beach and read trashy magazines.  It was a great old time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-265579645560539381?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/265579645560539381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=265579645560539381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/265579645560539381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/265579645560539381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/remember-when-we-were-young.html' title='Remember When We Were Young?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFvvBzbNVI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XXI3XJJLDPg/s72-c/IMG_1388.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3887144394018624098</id><published>2008-07-06T18:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T18:20:05.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Nature, Bad Nature</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFuLcE6ULI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UbyDz4J5ow0/s1600-h/IMG_1383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 115px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFuLcE6ULI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UbyDz4J5ow0/s200/IMG_1383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220074585893523634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFuDGL0PpI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-4ZS47ZG-Rk/s1600-h/IMG_1390.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFuDGL0PpI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-4ZS47ZG-Rk/s200/IMG_1390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220074442577952402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We were at the cabin for the fourth, the siblings and our teenagers.  J, the 6' 7" nephew noticed this lovely pink and yellow moth on the entryway into the cabin.  It was shockingly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fluorescent&lt;/span&gt;.  When did nature get so high tech?  I mean, it was actually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cartoonish&lt;/span&gt; in its beauty.  Then we saw this nasty spider in the tub.  I know it is difficult to tell the size of this spider, but its body was the side of a quarter - not including the legs.  Yuckorama!  M, my 19 year-old niece took care of it with the back of a sandal.  There was no screaming just a little surprise at the number of whacks it took to take it down.  Happy fourth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3887144394018624098?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3887144394018624098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3887144394018624098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3887144394018624098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3887144394018624098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-nature-bad-nature.html' title='Good Nature, Bad Nature'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SHFuLcE6ULI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UbyDz4J5ow0/s72-c/IMG_1383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2165236480006640084</id><published>2008-07-03T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T18:51:19.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Energy Source</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SG2BjSI4d6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/rcRzEsZ6nDo/s1600-h/IMG_1382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SG2BjSI4d6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/rcRzEsZ6nDo/s200/IMG_1382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218969986356770722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cupcakes are the answer to our energy problems.  Try eating one cupcake each day and see what happens.  At the very least your piss poor attitude will improve.  Come on, give it a try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2165236480006640084?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2165236480006640084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2165236480006640084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2165236480006640084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2165236480006640084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/energy-source.html' title='Energy Source'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SG2BjSI4d6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/rcRzEsZ6nDo/s72-c/IMG_1382.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2830028704878975716</id><published>2008-07-02T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T17:40:59.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwfWaXYj8I/AAAAAAAAAEM/FGJrqWV9rts/s1600-h/IMG_1381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwfWaXYj8I/AAAAAAAAAEM/FGJrqWV9rts/s200/IMG_1381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218580538110545858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today I got to hold this sweet baby R.   He belongs to my friend B.  B is a great mom and filled with joy over motherhood and her new boy.  I loved holding him.  He is small and compact and as he fell asleep I remembered the sweetness of my own kids.  Thank you for that B!&lt;br /&gt;This evening I took a walk around the local lake with my sister M.  We talked about our kids and our worries and laughed about some old times.  She always has good stories to tell and advice to give.   I had no cake today, but I did have some chocolate ice cream with whipped cream.  It is by no means a substitute for cake, but delicious none the less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwfLqb1wUI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UXU0E-yHA5U/s1600-h/IMG_1380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwfLqb1wUI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UXU0E-yHA5U/s200/IMG_1380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218580353445642562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2830028704878975716?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2830028704878975716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2830028704878975716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2830028704878975716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2830028704878975716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/july-2.html' title='July 2'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwfWaXYj8I/AAAAAAAAAEM/FGJrqWV9rts/s72-c/IMG_1381.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4257845710714197233</id><published>2008-07-02T17:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T17:35:22.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 1 - It's Summer!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwde0rH4_I/AAAAAAAAAD8/b_KxeZKAYqk/s1600-h/IMG_1378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwde0rH4_I/AAAAAAAAAD8/b_KxeZKAYqk/s200/IMG_1378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218578483588359154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwdWF82i1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/c2FsWZbfL1M/s1600-h/IMG_1379.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwdWF82i1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/c2FsWZbfL1M/s200/IMG_1379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218578333607299922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember those youthful days when you went to your summer job during the day, came home and napped, and then went out with friends until the wee hours?  Well, that's the life of my kids this summer.  This is J - going to work.  He comes home and watches TV and naps and then gets up to party.  The kids come home late and as my friend put it recently, "I'm having a hard time holding down a fulltime job with the kids' party schedule!"  It's true.  I pray that they are safe and making good choices.  Before they leave the house I remind them to not drink, not smoke pot, and abstain from sex  hoping that they might just take that extra moment to think before they act and make the smart choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4257845710714197233?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4257845710714197233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4257845710714197233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4257845710714197233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4257845710714197233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/07/july-1-its-summer.html' title='July 1 - It&apos;s Summer!'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGwde0rH4_I/AAAAAAAAAD8/b_KxeZKAYqk/s72-c/IMG_1378.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7406862731687427085</id><published>2008-06-30T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T18:37:53.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raspberries and Cupakes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGmJjr6EvhI/AAAAAAAAADs/-475ESm7Oxo/s1600-h/IMG_1376.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGmJjr6EvhI/AAAAAAAAADs/-475ESm7Oxo/s200/IMG_1376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217852889460162066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGmJVjKXxOI/AAAAAAAAADk/q7szvE6oISE/s1600-h/IMG_1377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGmJVjKXxOI/AAAAAAAAADk/q7szvE6oISE/s200/IMG_1377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217852646594430178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday I noticed the first raspberry of the season on the raspberry bush just outside my back door.  Isn't it cool?  I gave it to G, and he enjoyed it.  Today I went to Cupcake with my friend K.  I had a moo moo cupcake.  It was chocolate with cream cheese frosting.  Yum.  So, it was cupcake day #3.  Today was the first day of summer that I have not had to work so I felt the usual no-work anxiety creeping up.  I did lots of laundry and hung it out to dry.  I went for a long bike ride and took a short nap.  I cleaned my daughter's room.  But still, I feel anxious.  What gives?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7406862731687427085?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7406862731687427085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7406862731687427085' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7406862731687427085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7406862731687427085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/raspberries-and-cupakes.html' title='Raspberries and Cupakes!'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGmJjr6EvhI/AAAAAAAAADs/-475ESm7Oxo/s72-c/IMG_1376.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-6140078016282562894</id><published>2008-06-29T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:51:50.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Cake Please</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGhGU3hQ5PI/AAAAAAAAADc/KOWFxsgodik/s1600-h/IMG_1374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGhGU3hQ5PI/AAAAAAAAADc/KOWFxsgodik/s200/IMG_1374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217497492623516914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today was my nephew A's high school graduation party.  Yesterday was my niece C's party.  Three kids start college this fall.  Two going to Wisconsin schools, one going to Minnesota.  The best thing about these parties has been by far the cake.  In the month of June I was inundated with cakes.  There were retirement cakes, graduation cakes, end-of-year cakes, thank you cakes, I'm sorry cakes, we-have-some-left-over-cake cakes.  It was cake everyday.  So, I decided to start counting the number of cake days I could string out.  I got to 12 and then there was a lull.  Of all of the 12 days of cake, I think I only purchased my own cake once or twice.   My favorite day was the day I ate four pieces of cake in one day and three of the cakes were different cakes. It was incredible.  Now, I'm starting over.  Today is cake day two (I had cake at C's party yesterday and A's party today) and tomorrow I'm having lunch at a place called, Cupcake, so it will be cake day three.   So far all the cakes have been white or chocolate.  That's perfect because any kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; cake would just put me over the edge.  Just stick with the basics when it comes to cake and everyone will be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-6140078016282562894?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/6140078016282562894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=6140078016282562894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6140078016282562894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/6140078016282562894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-cake-please.html' title='More Cake Please'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGhGU3hQ5PI/AAAAAAAAADc/KOWFxsgodik/s72-c/IMG_1374.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7647377974256223761</id><published>2008-06-28T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T14:54:21.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's  A College Freshman!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGaAsg83f4I/AAAAAAAAADU/UMMwirUx7ao/s1600-h/IMG_1354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGaAsg83f4I/AAAAAAAAADU/UMMwirUx7ao/s200/IMG_1354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216998720603127682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So M and I went to her freshman orientation.  In case you're not sure how it works, the day starts out predictably, with an hour long blah blah blah session on the importance of academics and maintaining school engagement and this is the best time of your life and work hard etc.  Then after about an hour into it, they separate the students from the parents, forbidding each group to contact the others, i.e, no texting, phone calling, or other communication.  Then they bring the students to an undisclosed location and continue the boredom with the parents.  The best part of the day was seeing her dorm room - great view!  And then seeing M at the end of the day all filled with excitement and anticipation.  She got her ID (she looks darling) and her class schedule.  On the car ride home she said, "I feel like a real college student now."  She read out loud from a book she's reading for about the last hour of the trip then we chatted about her high school friends and how she managed through some difficult times with them.  I am so proud of how she navigated through her relationships with her peers.  She worked hard at being kind while pushing some of her friends to do better.  She is going to be a great college student.  As my friend L put it, "I can't wait to start missing her."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7647377974256223761?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7647377974256223761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7647377974256223761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7647377974256223761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7647377974256223761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/shes-college-freshman.html' title='She&apos;s  A College Freshman!'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGaAsg83f4I/AAAAAAAAADU/UMMwirUx7ao/s72-c/IMG_1354.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4751366653148146835</id><published>2008-06-28T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T07:30:02.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Long Ride Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGZKa9rBCpI/AAAAAAAAADE/OeE7MKnYOeI/s1600-h/IMG_1371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGZKa9rBCpI/AAAAAAAAADE/OeE7MKnYOeI/s200/IMG_1371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216939045447338642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGZKbcimf6I/AAAAAAAAADM/2dUTAXWLd_E/s1600-h/IMG_1365.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGZKbcimf6I/AAAAAAAAADM/2dUTAXWLd_E/s200/IMG_1365.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216939053733543842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Driving home from M's college orientation was an adventure.  It gets boring but M is always up for a good time.  We decided to pull up along side the truckers and give the peace sign and then take a photo of their reaction.  Everyone was positive.  We either got peace signs back or thumbs up like this guy.  What's not to like about this world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4751366653148146835?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4751366653148146835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4751366653148146835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4751366653148146835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4751366653148146835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/long-ride-home.html' title='The Long Ride Home'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGZKa9rBCpI/AAAAAAAAADE/OeE7MKnYOeI/s72-c/IMG_1371.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-9058186068308356631</id><published>2008-06-25T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T13:32:27.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CLUTTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGKqYUXZfJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/48f_IlJZDZA/s1600-h/IMG_1352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGKqYUXZfJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/48f_IlJZDZA/s200/IMG_1352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215918653208886418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every few months I go through fits of disorganization and I think I come up with some magical new "system" to cure all my woes.  Well, apparently it isn't working.  I can't believe how much stuff I have!  Even though I've been pretty good with The Compact (i.e., not buying new stuff) - things continue to accumulate.  I have large piles like this in pretty much every room.  There is not a room that is clean and clutter free.  How does it happen?  What's in the piles?  What happened to the paperless society idea?  I've read up on this clutter problem and here what I have discovered:&lt;br /&gt;1) You don't need half the crap you have&lt;br /&gt;2) It's okay to throw away magazines - even if they are professional journals&lt;br /&gt;3) Everyone has clutter - some just hide it better&lt;br /&gt;4) Moving stuff from one place to another doesn't solve anything&lt;br /&gt;5) It's better to throw away too much than not enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get to it.  My goal for today:  Get rid of this pile!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-9058186068308356631?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/9058186068308356631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=9058186068308356631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9058186068308356631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/9058186068308356631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/clutter.html' title='CLUTTER'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGKqYUXZfJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/48f_IlJZDZA/s72-c/IMG_1352.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2179876298281723783</id><published>2008-06-24T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T21:05:35.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO FORCES OF NATURE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGSk5YlJfI/AAAAAAAAACE/2EM8-LmQBc0/s1600-h/IMG_1290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGSk5YlJfI/AAAAAAAAACE/2EM8-LmQBc0/s200/IMG_1290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215611006048609778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here she is - my sweet girl.  M is 18 - a recent high school graduate. She is a force to be reckoned with - just like my garden. The summer before the daughter goes to college is proving to be filled with excitement, tension, frustration, memories, love, confusion, sadness, and laughter. I guess it is to be expected. She is annoyed with me. Today for example, I said, "Hey M, what are you going to do today?" Her response, "WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING I DO AT EVERY MOMENT? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ASK SO MANY QUESTIONS!" I smiled and shut her door and went on with my day. When I got home from work she was in the exact same position on her bed peering into her computer screen. I opened the door to her room and asked if she had moved at all today. I thought it was kind of funny - she didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight at dinner we went over our highs and lows for the day. J told a funny story about one of his young students who put an orange construction cone on his head and sad down in the yoga position. When J asked what he was doing the five-year-old responded, "I'm hesitating." I love that J is sharing his teacher stories. It is a gift of teaching to be a witness to these precious life stories.  M was bored with highs and lows and came up with nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I started my first ever vegetable garden this year. I planted my garden in May with hopes of an organic vegetarian life style for the summer. Well a few hours after I transplanted the carefully seed-grown heirloom tomato plants from indoors to out, a hail storm came through and crushed the poor tender plants. One survived. I planted the lettuce from seed and have enjoyed several salads. My dad had to give me two of his miracle grow - highly fertilized tomato plants to replace mine. I guess that's okay. Since I have one plant that survived and two that he has given me, I can compare and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been meeting with S - a new work friend to do some teacher stuff this summer. She takes a picture a day. I love the idea. Writing feels easier when you have a purpose - a picture, a moment to remember.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What would your picture be for today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGKDv0twoI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gi710TSNLis/s1600-h/IMG_1347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGKDv0twoI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gi710TSNLis/s320/IMG_1347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215601640453554818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGKC0oy2iI/AAAAAAAAAB0/yPaNfP3zguY/s1600-h/IMG_1346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGKC0oy2iI/AAAAAAAAAB0/yPaNfP3zguY/s320/IMG_1346.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215601624565864994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2179876298281723783?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2179876298281723783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2179876298281723783' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2179876298281723783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2179876298281723783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/two-forces-of-nature.html' title='TWO FORCES OF NATURE'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/SGGSk5YlJfI/AAAAAAAAACE/2EM8-LmQBc0/s72-c/IMG_1290.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-4677780857991192547</id><published>2008-06-10T19:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T19:41:05.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rage and Joy - You Choose</title><content type='html'>Today I was quite angry at a colleague.  Now I'm realizing it was a waste of time.  Here's my new plan - be quiet and observant.  I have been working on "always maintain only a joyful mind" also but today it was too late.  Rage entered my heart and there was no way to get back to joy.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The secret seems to be to start with joy.  Begin with joy.  Say it and believe it and then of course you become it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the things I say to my students is, "It's okay if you don't care or you're not interested, but it's not okay to act that way.  Just pretend like you're interested and see what happens."  It's cool to watch the power of faking it - the power of the mind.  Act like you're engaged in solving a problem and you tend to solve the problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it easy to always maintain only a joyful mind?  Is it another way of faking it? Is it insincere?   Try it. Say the mantra to yourself and really consciously bring your mind back to joy when you feel yourself slipping into anger or frustration.  Think joyful and see what happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My daughter graduated from high school yesterday.  It is at once shocking and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exhilarating&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm worried and anxious and happy.  She will do great things in her life.  What will I do with mine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be the joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-4677780857991192547?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/4677780857991192547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=4677780857991192547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4677780857991192547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/4677780857991192547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/rage-and-joy-you-choose.html' title='Rage and Joy - You Choose'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2562781993643539941</id><published>2008-06-05T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T15:47:15.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People Hope</title><content type='html'>I waited in line for two hours to see Obama speak his words of hope. It was exciting and energizing. It wasn't just about him. It was a line of strangers that stretched out over a mile. We were all talking and wondering and hoping. We weren't really waiting. In that space of two hours we started talking and laughing and feeling good about being together in America at this time. We were joyful. And then we got to get inside and hear the man talk to us with great spirit and responsibility. He helps me believe that things can really get better if we all do our part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved watching the people walk by in that line. It was cool to see their faces as they realized how long the line was. Not one person gave up after looking at the line. No one turned around. They just kept walking, got in line, and started chatting up the next person in line. That's what Obama people do. We keep walking, we don't give up, we build relationships, and we work on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been busy this week. The early days were frustrating but now things are getting done and coming together. I'm wondering about next year and I'm hopeful. It will be better. It's funny how overwhelming a new school year can feel. It is looming out there and I need to start thinking and planning about it. Just think how next year looks for our country, for our new president. We all need to keep walking and believing that we'll get in. Even if we've been waiting for 8 years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2562781993643539941?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2562781993643539941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2562781993643539941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2562781993643539941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2562781993643539941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/people-hope.html' title='People Hope'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-5054829870485738103</id><published>2008-06-02T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T16:39:01.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grownups</title><content type='html'>What do you do when the grownups start acting like children?  I'm at a loss.  I wonder if I should just call it - "you're acting like a small child."  or "Why don't you do what you're asked to do?"  or "How about you just do your job?"  Sometimes I think we should have a sign in the office that lists the requirements for working there.  #1) Come to work on time every day.  #2) Do your job every day.  It seems so simple and obvious and yet it is not the norm where I work.  Then I get to thinking, why don't people do their job?  Two reasons.  First, they don't want to.  Second, they are unable to.  Both reasons suck it up.  If your reason is that you don't want to, I suggest you find a job that you want to to.  If your reason sis that you are unable to do your job, either get trained so you can do your job or find a job that you are able to do.  It is maddening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was gloomy and warm.  I rode home in the rain.  There are two loon couples I see on my ride.  On my way in I see the first couple near the shore of Calhoun and on the way home there is another couple at Harriet.  It is sweetness.  They are close together probably getting breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening.  They give me hope for some reason.  Here they are two beautiful creatures in the middle of the city living a perfectly lovely life.  I get to enjoy them every day.  Thank you for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the midst of all of my ranting about people not doing their jobs.  Really, who cares.  Those loons will be there whether or not everyone shows up to work and I can count on them to give me a little joy every day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-5054829870485738103?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/5054829870485738103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=5054829870485738103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5054829870485738103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/5054829870485738103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/grownups.html' title='Grownups'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3309498865202855746</id><published>2008-06-01T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T17:15:16.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Random Ideas and Musings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was a funny writer.  Thinking can be funny - I particularly like to think of funny things.  Sometimes I believe I can actually feel the funny part of my brain enjoying the humor.  Garrison Keillor is a funny writer.  He is funnier in his writing than in person.  Strangely, many people take his writing seriously and then get all pissed off with him.  Enjoy the fun.  Relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night there was some drama at my house.  The weather was sunny but the clouds were rolling in.  My bf came over for dinner and I was waiting for my daughter to return from work.  It starting looking a little ominous outside and the sirens went off so I called my daughter.  She was walking home and had taken refuge in a bus shelter.   I set off to pick her up.  She was about one mile away.  The weather turned terrible in a matter of seconds.  The wind picked up and the visibility went down to about 5 feet.  It started raining and then hailing... hard.  Large sticks and debris flew in front of the car.  I was afraid for my life but I realized I had to get my daughter.  I kept driving and praying.  My hands gripped the wheel.  Finally I got to the bus shelter and she ran out to the car.  We drove home.  The hail was pouring down, the car was sliding on the hail as if it were ice.  The wind was really strong.  We made it home and the yard was white, covered with hail.  The bf and his son greeted us with concern and happiness.  All was well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered what I had done just a few hours earlier.  I carefully planted the seedlings that I had started inside about 6 weeks ago.  I planted some organic heirloom tomato and brocolli plants.  The garden bed was now covered in pea sized hail.  I was crushed!  Life that I had nurtured was gone.  In the morning I checked the damage.  One plant survived.  The others were gone - no evidence was visible of their existence.  Then of course I thought of the poor farmers and all of the people who had gone through real distaster and devastation in the past year.  My sad little plants had lost their lives - but the effect on my life was tiny.  I had a little part of my heart broken, but it has healed.  There will be other plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do people survive real loss and tradgedy?  How can they believe that things will be okay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3309498865202855746?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3309498865202855746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3309498865202855746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3309498865202855746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3309498865202855746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/06/random-ideas-and-musings-i-wish-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7093290400287619527</id><published>2008-02-10T15:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T15:50:45.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Compact</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago there was an article in the newspaper about something called "The Compact".  There is a group of people in San Francisco who started The Compact.  The idea is to buy nothing new for one year to support recycling, reusing and to go against consumerism.  Think about all the stuff in the world.  I have way too much stuff in my basement, in my garage, on my night stand, under my bed.  Everywhere!  I don't NEED any more stuff.  And when I go to Target and see that cute shirt for only $9.99 I have to say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to do this since  January 6.  There are no hard and fast rules - the San Fran people have general guidelines, and they are relaxed about the so called rules because they are from California after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here are the rules.  Buy nothing new except food.  If you really NEED something, barter, trade, or buy it used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some ways that I've managed to make it work:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) buy food for gifts (chocolates, wine, candy)&lt;br /&gt;2) make cards&lt;br /&gt;3) DON'T go to Target - go to the crappy neighborhood Walgreens instead&lt;br /&gt;4) Everytime you say no to the cute shirt in the groovy Boden catalogue take a moment to feel good about what you've just done&lt;br /&gt;5) Tell people - they will hold you to it and keep you on track by asking how it's going&lt;br /&gt;6) Let yourself make exceptions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep you updated on my progress.  So far this year I have purchased some non-food items, but no clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7093290400287619527?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7093290400287619527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7093290400287619527' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7093290400287619527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7093290400287619527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/02/compact.html' title='The Compact'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7429089537447543549</id><published>2008-01-28T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T20:04:46.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Which Is It?</title><content type='html'>Politics.  Exciting, envigorating, depressing.  When I delve into things I see how naive I am about so many things and I'm just an average person.  It frightens me to think how uninformed we all are.  And how does one become informed in an unbiased way?  Who can we trust?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The war is about oil.  Haven't we all heard that many times?  What does it mean?  It seems to me that it means that the war is about power and greed - specifically, American power and greed.  We are in Iraq to get the oil.  It is not about democracy or terrorism or any wmd (at least that is clear to everyone now).  Check out Antonia Juhasz's editorial in the NYT.  &lt;span style="font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;span class="a"&gt;www.nytimes.com/2007/03/13/opinion/13juhasz.html.  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Her message is powerful.  Just as powerful as the one that has been painted of the big bad terrorists and middle east oil barrens.  Which is it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her answer to the oil problem.  Stop driving.  Is that possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is something you can do that is both good for you and good for the world.  http://www.freerice.com  check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be good to everyone.  Be good in each moment.  Make the hard choice.  Smile when you don't feel like it.  The next time you want to give the finger to the jerk who cut you off on 35W, give a smile with the peace sign.  Be the peace in the world.  Really.  It's up to YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7429089537447543549?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7429089537447543549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7429089537447543549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7429089537447543549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7429089537447543549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/01/which-is-it.html' title='Which Is It?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3203937930477364042</id><published>2008-01-22T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T14:47:23.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year</title><content type='html'>Always maintain a joyful mind.  Try the mantra.  Today I practiced this mantra.  About 50% of the time I wake up angry or glum.  Today I woke and said the mantra.  It helped me to read it and say it several times.  As I went through my day I forced my mind back to the words.  At one time in the day someone said to me, "You seem different today - so joyful, what's up?"  Isn't that cool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My teenage kids and I went to the MLK concert at my church on Sunday.  I sang in the choir with G and it was quite fun and moving.  My kids went reluctantly.  They ARE teenagers.  But later that day when I was using the computer I saw that my son had downloaded a song from iTunes that he had heard at the concert.  Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is filled with sweetness.  Look for it.  Let it in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3203937930477364042?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3203937930477364042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3203937930477364042' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3203937930477364042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3203937930477364042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-year.html' title='A New Year'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-3917102276869694857</id><published>2007-12-11T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:47:53.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What To Do?</title><content type='html'>John is coming home from school next week and Miss Mary and I are baking cookies on Saturday.  What more does one want than two happy healthy children who sort of like to hang around with me still? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather a chocolate kiss on your peanut butter cookie or would you rather have a real kiss followed by a peanut butter sandwich?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-3917102276869694857?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/3917102276869694857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=3917102276869694857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3917102276869694857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/3917102276869694857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-to-do.html' title='What To Do?'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-75384911760615907</id><published>2007-10-29T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T18:03:54.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching My Breath</title><content type='html'>How does life get so busy?  Mary and I returned safely from our college trip - a trip that was fun and informative and bonding for us.  I went to Texas for a school/work conference on something called Disciplinary Literacy right after I got back from the college trip.  It was hard work and enlightening and it was difficult to go back to work after both trips and try to figure out the day-to-day stuff.  Then I watched a movie called Blood Diamond and am in the middle of reading Into the Wild and I feel like I should be putting it all together and changing my life in some meaningful way.  It seems like I'm getting hints at what turn to take next - but the voice is not quite loud enough.  Am I too tired to hear it?  Does it seem like too much work?  Maybe I'm just not ready.  What is it I'm trying to get ready for?  It's true - I have been blessed to be born into the life I have.  I know that and I feel a heavy obligation some days and other days it feels more like hopeful optimism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, John paid me a surprise visit from his college far far away.  I was thrilled to see him, tears were shed.  What a good boy!  In the car ride on the way to the airport he said, "I am so confused about life.  I mean, what am I supposed to be doing?"  I told him he was to be doing exactly what he was doing.  Being confused, muddling through, figuring it out, being 19.  He's doing a fine job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary applied to 4 schools yesterday.  She wrote a couple of heart warming essays and cranked out the answers to the usual questions.  It was taxing but she stuck it out.  What a good girl!  She is on the cusp of the confusion.  I think she is ready for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather be allergic to socks or your mother?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-75384911760615907?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/75384911760615907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=75384911760615907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/75384911760615907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/75384911760615907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2007/10/catching-my-breath.html' title='Catching My Breath'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-1901042937090772563</id><published>2007-10-19T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T16:31:15.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>College Search Extravaganza</title><content type='html'>In the last two days my daughter and I have visted 8 colleges.  Tomorrow we hope to see 2 or 3 more.  The colors are peaking or maybe just a little over and it has been a beautiful trip.  We have driven through rolling hills and flat cornfields.  We have driven through pouring rain and towards a rainbow.  Today there were small patches of blue throughout the day.  We have had our share of arguments about directions and snacks and who stinks the most - but we always manage to end up laughing our heads off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of the schools on this trip have been complete "unknowns" to us.  My daughter has been happily surprised at how much she has liked most of the schools we have visited even though they have been unique.  Big, small, urban, rural, specific, general.  I think the girl is delighted at the prospect of college.  It is really there for her to take and explore.  What a cool place to be at 17. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather go to college or the moon?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-1901042937090772563?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/1901042937090772563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=1901042937090772563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1901042937090772563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/1901042937090772563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2007/10/college-search-extravaganza.html' title='College Search Extravaganza'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-7259133931911804758</id><published>2007-10-18T04:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T04:19:23.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday</title><content type='html'>I am off to see the world of Wisconsin colleges with my daughter.  Road trips are thrilling - there's the snacks, the map reading, the watching for signs, the 20 questions in the car, and the gas station bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went for a 2 hour canoe ride with some urban 8th graders.  They laughed and paddled their way down the St. Croix.  How is that trip down the river the same as my road trip with my daughter?  There will be times when we are going in circles and worried about getting lost.  But there is joy and hope in going with th current and trusting that around the next corner will be another beautiful sight to see or maybe it will be the landing for our final destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a road  trip would you rather have too many snacks or too few?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-7259133931911804758?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/7259133931911804758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=7259133931911804758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7259133931911804758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/7259133931911804758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2007/10/thursday.html' title='Thursday'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325190155790260569.post-2781044437165112048</id><published>2007-10-16T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T18:54:52.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>My first blog.  For a Tuesday I'd say this was average.  On a scale of 1-10, I would give it a five.  I noticed that throughout the day I often think of clever things I might write for a story to be published in say The New Yorker or on a popular blog.  But here I am now looking at this daunting empty white screen and all I can think of is the dullness of the day.  How to capture the coolness of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent some time in a training class with educators.  I left feeling uplifted and proud that I am a member of that profession.  How does one save that feeling and take it out in the midst of a difficulty?  How can I reframe the crap I deal with every day and lift myself to the light and joy and challenge of the work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang around people like Iverson and Kopicus and Blue and see the beauty in the energy of adolescence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7325190155790260569-2781044437165112048?l=marthematician.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/feeds/2781044437165112048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7325190155790260569&amp;postID=2781044437165112048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2781044437165112048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7325190155790260569/posts/default/2781044437165112048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthematician.blogspot.com/2007/10/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>ms</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09652788921767461037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OSgQf3IKZ2w/S1yx1Kk7KEI/AAAAAAAAAgE/T2CbcbiJ-vk/S220/IMG_1329.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
