Clean Desk Misson: Week 6

So here's my desk, still clean.  I even updated the blotter to September on the last day of August.  My ever-ready sunglasses and coffee mug are always waiting to jet out with me in the mornings.

....and here's what else showed up on my desk this week: 

 Yep, three new pairs of sunglasses.  They are props for our intrepid FBI (Faithful Bible Investigator) agents, so they can take MIB-esque mugshots for their photo ID badges.  (Which turned out GREAT - it's amazing how sophisticated these 3rd, 4th and 5th graders can look when they put on the shades and strike a serious pose.)  The sunglasses will remain on standby for a few weeks while we get any straggler photos taken.  And then I'll have to find a place to store them.

The desk got a heavy workout this past week.  Once my replacement toner arrived, it became a frenzy of printing:  Kindergarten coloring pages, FBI background check sheets and other paperwork to augment the purchased curriculum, and a few new recipes to try.  But so far, the combination of ruthlessly sorting the mail each day and putting everything away at the end of the day have yielded good results.  Time to move on...I think I can now rely on my newly formed habit to keep the desk maintained.

Everything old is new again?

Recently, my mother-in-law regaled us with stories about a rolling store, a peddler in a converted bus that traveled through rural areas, bringing staples and what-nots to those living in remote areas.  With a twinkle in her eye she sheepishly bragged that she was a little miserly  with the gum she was able to buy from that rolling store, only giving half a piece to classmates who asked her to share.  Times were tough and money was scarce; I'm sure she didn't get "gum money" very often, so it was a precious commodity on the playground.

Back when personal transportation was extremely limited, mail order was another way to obtain things you needed or wanted but couldn't get locally.  My grandparents' generation treasured the Sears-Roebuck catalogs (and recycled them when rolled toilet paper was a luxury few could indulge in.)

1966: Bet I had this dogeared

As a child, I remember anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Sears Wishbook catalog each fall, poring over it to make a list for Santa.  It mattered little if I got any of the specific items I picked out...it was indeed a book for inspiring wishes and dreams.

With our first home, I fearlessly forayed into gardening.  But I quickly realized the local stores' selection of plants and seeds was pretty limited.  So I visited the Tulsa Garden Center Library and jotted down addresses to send away for catalogs.  Ever since, I have been rewarded with a steady stream of gardening catalogs in my mailbox. Like the old wish books, they're filled with photos and tantalizing descriptions that inspire hopes and dreams, especially in the dead of winter.

When we prepared to move into this home, one of the first to-do's involved removing old carpet and replacing it with hard flooring.  I had researched hard wood vs. laminate, and given our budget and age of kids, I opted for laminate flooring.

The only sources of laminate available were flooring showrooms and big box stores with a limited selection of pricey laminate.  And...I had the Internet.  My husband's family thought I was crazy, but I happily hopped online and ordered hundreds of square feet of discount flooring, going on nothing more than a description and a website picture.  I'm happy to report that ten years later, the floors have withstood traffic from skidding kids, cats, dogs and daily living, and look great.   If you think that my purchase was crazy, let me introduce you to my better half, who has bought BMWs and a hot tub on eBay!

Ten years later, I still love ordering stuff, and it keeps getting easier.  Boxes with books, plants, dishes, purses, pots and pans show up on my doorstep.  The mail carrier might wonder what I do with all that stuff from Oriental Trading.   (I teach 3rd grade Bible class - do you really need more explanation than that?)  This method of buying is really nothing new; the concept is at least as old as those old mail order catalogs and peddling buses.  It's just a little easier nowadays to search to the ends of the earth for what your heart desires and have it delivered right to your door.

Clean Desk Mission: Week 5

It looks like I have passed the one-month milestone for a clean desk.  How is it looking?  Well, here it is today.

Yes, the inbox is getting a little full.  Thanks for pointing that out.  One of today's missions is to tackle it and get it back under control before it gets any messier, then dust the desk.

And so you know the "rest of the story" (with apologies to the late Paul Harvey), here's the stack of stuff that is currently piled on the floor next to my desk.

I don't count it as part of the desk, because it is not allowed ON the desk.  But it needs to be dealt with ASAP.  What is it?  Well, it's the leftover kindergarten curriculum printouts from a project I'm wrapping up this week; new curriculum for our 3rd-5th graders (classes start next Wednesday - woohoo!); a binder full of youth ministry forms that I need to sort and organize and give to our youth minister next Tuesday; a box of plastic sheet protectors for a recipe project I've got goin' on; and unsorted mail from yesterday.  (Oooh, is that a new Better Homes & Gardens issue peeking out? I guess that will be my reward for culling through the pile today.)

My little green orphan doodad has not been tossed out, as threatened.  It's been joined by a compression fitting.  Like the green thingamajig, I have no clue what it goes to or who put it here, (but at least know what  it is.)  Wonder what cute little offspring these two might morph up?  If I leave them alone overnight, I might find out...

I can't brag about my stupendous photo file organizing efforts; too many other urgent things took priority this week.  But there's always next week, right?

His fingerprints are everywhere...

Chalk it up to overdosing on VBS stuff over the past ten days, but I woke up this morning with a line from the "Hip-Hip-Hooray Hippopotamus" song running through my head, like a record with a deep scratch. Over and over and over. I could even see little hands moving and creating handprints all over the walls of my mind.

It's annoying to have a children's song scratching across your psyche like nails on a chalkboard, but if it had to happen, at least it was a true line: His fingerprints ARE everywhere.

I watched two storms roll through the midstate today. Both times, sunny skies darkened, the wind blew, the rain lashed against my windows, and then it receded just as quickly as it came, leaving everything clean and sparkly and sunny once again. We are no match for nature's fury, but we can take comfort that we are nestled in the shelter of our creator's arms.

It made me think of a recent lesson on the providence of God. Although I am a bit of word geek, that lesson struck me because I had never really thought about the root and obvious meaning of the word providence: to provide. He provides us with a habitable planet to sojourn on, air to breath, light to grow plants which feed us and the animals, which in turn feed us. Our bodies and brains are beyond comprehension in their complexity and perfectly elegant functionality to do everything we require. He sends rain on the just and the unjust, and he makes the sun to shine on us all, too.

The children's education program this summer is going to be an amazing (and wild) adventure. Thirteen weeks, six classroom rotations, and four lessons for grades K-5. All pointing out how we can know God's plans and promises for us, which He made at the beginning and He will keep to the very end.

Indeed, His fingerprints are everywhere, just to show how much He cares. That's a lot to hip-hip-hooray about, isn't it?

Me and my notebooks

I have developed a fondness (fetish is much too strong a term) for 3-ring binders. Pretty ones, with nifty, colorful graphics. It started out innocently enough; last spring I found myself diving headfirst into our children's education program at Highland Heights, and I needed a way to organize my meeting notes, ideas and training materials.

So I bought a binder. And totally out of character for me, I passed over the sensible, plain white binders when my eyes landed on a pretty notebook. It had circles, and it spoke to me. I bought it. (Concerned friends pointed out it matched the pattern on a Thirty-One skirt purse I was carrying at the time...I assured them it was total coincidence. I'm not that kind of girl. "Coordinated" is not a word that comes to mind when you think of me.)

Then we launched our first annual school supply drive at Highland. It was a 6-week whirlwind of activity. To keep track of all the emails, correspondence, sign-up sheets, etc., I needed...another notebook. This one had squares. (No matching purse this time.)

Now we're getting ready to turn VBS on its head (literally and figuratively: it's now SBV, which stands for Summer Bible Vacation, and it will last all summer long. And yes, it puts me in mind of National Lampoon's Vacation (but minus the less family-friendly parts.) And this means...I need another notebook. So this one is striped.


See? Aren't they adorable? But I'm not sure what this holds for my future. I mean, let's say I just happen to find another really awesome binder. Will I need to take on another project so I can justify buying it? And on the flip side, what happens if I suddenly can't find any other cute and distinctive patterned notebooks? Would that mean I'll have to decline any other projects? Surely not...

Divine divan?

I haven't had Chicken Divan in years. In fact, the first time I had it was probably the first, last and only time. My brief introduction to this dish is due to some good friends from our days in Tulsa who moved away about the same time we did. As I search for different recipes to put on my weekly menu, for some reason Nancy's chicken divan came to mind, along with a happy memory of her great hostess skills.

So we're giving it a shot today. Being a part-time etymology geek, it also made me wonder why it was thusly named, and so I went hunting for clues. Apparently the dish got its name from a New York City restaurant of the mid-1950s; the Divan Parisien Restaurant. (And it's pronounced dee-VAHN, in case anyone else was wondering.) The Paula Deen version is the "easy" version, relying on a cream soup base, but other versions are truer to its French aspirations, and use a white sauce with flour, butter, chicken broth, milk and sherry, with heavy cream whipped and gently folded in just before pouring over the chicken and broccoli. (Sounds...well....divine, doesn't it?)

In other news, my new square Fiesta dinner and salad plates are on their way. I hope they arrive in time to use them on Friday night, when I'm hosting a little post-birthday soiree for my husband and his sister, whose birthdays are one year and two days apart. (Still don't know how their mama did it, but my hat is off to her. Maybe the desserts should include HER favorite birthday cake, too?)

Today our 3rd graders finished our six-month study of the book of Acts, which we celebrated with milk, juice and Krispy Kreme donuts, then an Olympic-style rubber duck "marathon" where the kids teamed up to answer Acts trivia questions in order to move their ducks ahead. Every year, I am amazed and humbled by how much these kids learn and remember from week to week.

Since our "wrap party" coincided with the closing of the 2010 Winter Games in Vancouver, I gave each of them an Olympic-style medal, which they were proudly sporting during worship. (Another reason I love, love, LOVE teaching 3rd graders: the blissful lack of jaded cynicism that will afflict them soon enough. Plus, they're still shorter than me.) I owe a big debt of thanks to my two wonderful co-teachers, and so their families will be coming over for a meal in a couple weeks. Hopefully by then our weather will be showing signs of spring, because this extra-long winter is starting to wear on us all.

T-2 and counting

I teach 3rd grade Bible class. From the first Sunday in September until the last Sunday in February, my co-teacher(s) and I diligently prepare and deliver over two dozen lessons to give a new group of 8- and 9- year olds a solid grounding in the book of Acts. We discuss who wrote the book, who the main characters are, where the church began, how people became Christians in the first century (and still do today); how the church was (and is) organized, why we have missionaries, and the important work they do. And most of all, we show these children how God's providence and power are seen throughout this amazing story that ties old testament promises into God's revealed plan for spreading the Gospel to a lost and dying world.

I love teaching this age group and helping them see history unfold and barrel straight for them. As always, the clock and the calendar race faster than I would like, and I am now down to two precious classes with this year's "crop" of third graders. We will wrap up with an Olympic event that involves doughnuts, ducks, a foot race and medals and then I will hand them off to the next teacher, and pray they continue to run the race and stay the course. And I will take some time off to recharge my own batteries and once again become a student in an adult class.

Today as we headed for class, it was snowing. In fact, the AP is reporting that 49 states have snow; Hawaii is the lone holdout. It is extremely rare for so many states to have snow simultaneously. I hear the global warming folks are shifting gears - the catchphrase is now "global climate change." Nothing like covering your bets, eh guys?

Last night's early Valentine dinner was marvelous - the "poached oysters with brie and petite croutons" (ahem, oyster stew all glammed up) was a truly memorable appetizer, and I will have to try to replicate it with the bits and pieces of information I wheedled out of the chef.

And next Sunday, company comes for dinner - yay! It should prove to be a good time with good friends. I've even managed to line up dinner guests for March as well...