Here we are - again.

For those of you who have not been part of my life for the last three months - a brief overview.

My Dad, Milt, had a fluke thing happen to him on May 17th. What we initially thought was a stroke turned out to be his thoracic spine (T 7/8 to be exact) literally cutting into his spinal cord. A major surgery was undertaken about a week later. The surgery went well, but the MRSA resistant staff infection attacked his right lung - sending him back to ICU at the hospital after only being in the rehab unit for 14 hours.

After fighting for his life for a few weeks in ICU he returned to rehab - where he's been for the past 5 weeks. Tonight, we're back in the emergency room - pain in the lung, and a little difficulty breathing. So here we are. We've taken over "our" corner in the ER waiting area, again, tho we are a bit short on our usual treats, we have our e-readers, cell phones and computers. They've become a staple when the call comes in to head to the hospital for something.

Jeff is sketching stuff for woods, Gary and Joel are listening to mash-ups and I'm blogging (conveniently out of the picture), whilst Dad is being wheeled about to CT and xray and being all sorts of poked and prodded -  yet again. At least this time around he's coherent and joking a bit.

The IMC is a nice hospital, and they have a pretty decent cafeteria - the onion rings are awesome!

I've seen a few things over the past three months being in and out of here with Dad.

First, there are lots of people and they all deal with tragedy and pain in different ways. Some are quiet and you hardly know they're there. Others are vocal, impatient, and downright mean - which is hard for me to listen to - I know its difficult, but I've never seen any of this hospital staff not doing their best to make things better for those in the ER area. Still others whimper and moan, trying to be brave but they're just not able to pull it off. Some joke and laugh, others are social with those sitting around them.

Next, people are fragile. There are lots of things that people come to the ER for. I watched a very drunk woman come in looking for her son that had overdosed, also a man who had been cleaning his hand gun with a bullet through his hand - the nurses called the police in on that one. In one room was a man who had been playing a neighborhood type game of basketball and had been purposely tripped and kicked about the head because he was 6'8" and his team was winning. It find it amazing that we live through these things. Whether it be a little germ that takes over your body and turns it against you, or being thrown head first through a car windshield.

Another thing is that the ER makes us sit back and wait, and listen. Patience is necessary, like it or not. I have spent more time in the last three months sitting, observing and listening than I have in a long time. I've learned that sitting close to the door of the room and listening to what happens in the hallway often gets you information you wouldn't know otherwise, and that asking to see the xray, ct scan and blood numbers every day is very telling - even as a non-medically trained person.

Last, is that asking questions makes some professionals act a bit put out; but if I've waited hours for them to come tell me something then I'm going to find out, as completely and thoroughly as I can what it is they have figured out - to the last detail -  and then I'll have them tell me again so I understand completely. I think that if they're getting paid like they are and they make me wait for hours on end, I'm going to drain them of every last bit of information they can show and tell me.

So, its 10:55pm, we're going on 5 hours and counting now - the blood pressure cuff is filling again, Dad has started telling jokes and is trying to get comfortable, the baby in the next room has stopped whimpering for a minute.....here we are...again.

My outdoors

Well, a few posts ago I showed you our new box garden thingys - I wasnt too convinced about the whole process initially, nothing seemed to be growing very well. I'm now wondering if it didnt have more to do with the weather conditions than the box deal - anyway - here are pictures of the current garden situation.

If you look back on my previous garden post you'll see the difference :) Its been a long time since I HAVEN'T had tomatoes by the middle of July, but really, I think the cool, wet weather did me in this year.

My pond has also started looking good - I keep adding fish, I lost so many this winter. I'll try and get some pictures of them later. But, I have my older generation that are about 6" long, the group I put in sometime in April are about 2-3" long. The group I put in 3 weeks ago and the teeny guys I dumped in last week aren't too much different from each other, maybe a 1/2" difference. I'm hoping to get my population up.

The main pump decided to go out on us last week, so we replaced it on Saturday. The new one is awesome! I dont know that I've seen the water so clear!

I'm waiting for the newest lily to bloom - its red! I'm so excited. My pinks and yellows have been doing well though.

Oh, I also planted a new herb last year - bee balm - its doing well this year. It has a great smell, but I didn't realize that it flowered - check this out.

The blooms are REALLY pink - almost fuschia.

Ok, I know, I'm a nerd, but I love planting. I wish my herb garden was more extensive, I'm learning so much about herbs and what they can do - its really interesting (to me anyway).

Ok, thats all for now. Grow on!

Crossing Party Lines

I am a music teacher....I live in my little end of the building, quite happy and often times blissfully oblivious of things going on elsewhere in a couple of rather large high schools.

Because of my introverted nature (I know some of you are laughing at that statement) I'm often accused of being cold and distant and sometimes downright scary. I've come to accept that. Its how I am. I learned to observe and listen, before opening my mouth, a long time ago.

Four weeks ago the Central Utah Writing Project began, I was thrust so far out of my comfort zone that I couldn't even see the border of where my happy place was! I was a music teacher in a room full of English, Language Arts, and other "core" teachers. I had to remind myself that I wanted this. I had applied and committed to it - after the first day I came home and nearly cried.

Diligently I went to class, every morning. At 7:40 I would walk out the door and drive to American Fork with the little voice in my head saying, "you shouldnt be doing this, its out of your league, how could you ever hope to be a writer or do anything effective (thanks Jon) with your students." Every morning I arrived my name tag was shifted to a different table. Every morning I cringed as I sat down among a new group hoping people wouldn't think I was dumb, refusing to be very social, lest I open my mouth and remove all doubt.

I think it was the second or third day of class we scribbled about poetry. After we scribble the floor is open for sharing, I raised my hand - what the hell was I thinking??? Too late now. My heart was pounding so hard I couldn't breathe. I started reading. At one point it became emotional, I couldn't talk, I swallowed, I kept going, my voice cracking. They clapped and the facilitator asked "anyone else?" I distinctly remember Kristin saying "How are we supposed to follow that??" Thank you Kristin. That was all I needed, and that statement came to mean more as I got to know this amazing woman - her classes at Provo High must be awesome!

That was that day that my anthology piece was written. I ended up changing very little about it, it just came. I appreciate Jenna, Heidi and Teri helping me make it perfect, you guys were great.

My demo lesson had me panicked too. The day before I was to present I went to Karen and nearly broke down - I knew it was going to be just dumb compared to the other lessons that had been presented.  I kept wishing I could bring one of my groups in and just run a rehearsal so these people could see that I wasn't a complete idiot, that I (mostly) knew how to teach.

I gave my lesson, I know it wasn't great, but I made it through.

In one of our discussions the topic of mode and genre was addressed. I thought about this on the way home after our last day of class. What genre am I? Where would I be cataloged? Where would my fellows be cataloged? Would they be cataloged with me? Or would I be the lone book on the outskirts of the CUWP shelf?

Educator > Music > Orchestra
Educator > Public > Music > Strings
CUWP > Educator > Public > Music > Strings

Was there another way?
Educator > Writer > Musician

Or should it be the other way around?
Musician > Writer > Educator

I know that I could be shelved in any of the following ways:
I am an educator, period. I teach many things whether I like it or not.
I am a musician. It is who I am, not just what I do.
I am a writer. It is part of who I am as well, I'd forgotten about that part of me, its been buried a long time, but I enjoy it and I am going to strive to bring that part of me back into being.

I liked crossing party lines and hanging out with the English-y crowd. (and the history and geography guys and spec ed and even the psychologist!!)

I'm not sure that I have a specific mode or genre, I'm not sure where you would catalog me in the bookstore. Maybe I'd be in several different places so several different types of people could find me - but that would be ok by me, it means I would have that many more friends, resources, helps, and encouragement in that many more facets of my life.

Thanks, CUWP fellows - or should I say -  family.

Yucca

I really hate it when it gets hot in the summer, so I've really enjoyed the cool temps and rain that ushered in this season. One bonus of this wet spring/summer is that my Yucca plant decides to bloom. It bloomed once a couple of years ago with a single tall stem. 

This year it put up three stems - the tallest of which was close to 6.5' tall. They bloomed out a couple of days ago - I love it!

I don't really enjoy being out in the heat, but I enjoy what the heat does with my flowers. One more lesson about how "taking heat" sometimes brings out the more beautiful things of the world, and while this may not last for long, its lovely for as long as it lasts.