Aw, my apartment feels so homey right now. We have flowers! Lovely cut daffodils scattered in mason jars throughout the rooms, and three potted plants on the kitchen windowsill: red primroses, orange gerber daises, and a perky little strawberry plant. It's just so...cheerful.
-happy sigh-
Yay for living, growing things being on sale for spring.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Um, really?
So, I've never really thought planning a wedding sounded very fun. (Not that it's something super relevant in my life right now, anyway, but you know, should it come up in the future.) Well, no more worries. All I have to do is sit back and let Disney do it for me! Phew. Glad that's worked out.
...right.
...right.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sadness
I found out yesterday that one of my favorite profs from university died this week. It made me unexpectedly sad. Unexpectedly, I suppose, partially because I knew she had cancer and didn't have long to live, but mostly because I haven't kept in touch with her, so it doesn't really change anything about my daily life that she's gone. But even while I knew she was dying, I never saw her sick...
The last time I saw her she was still flitting around the front of my English classroom, talking 500 words a minute about the "powerful feeling" of the romantic writers and the marriage foils in Pride and Prejudice and leaving all of us as full as if we'd just sat through three or four lecture/discussions instead of only one.
That last day I saw her, she stopped near the end of class, announced she had cancer and probably not too long to live, told us she'd found a great substitute prof so we would still be very taken care of in our studies, and left the room before any of us (or she) could get all emotional. That was almost two years ago.
The last I'd heard, she and her husband were skiing in the Alps, and she was still running around and being all crazyily and energetically herself-ish.
And now I hear that she died, and somehow--even though I knew it was coming--it doesn't seem to be possible that she's not scaring and inspiring and enlightening the next batch of students. It is a great comfort to know that she is finally at peace, and no longer ravaged by cancer, and that she and her grieving husband and so many of her friends and students are ultimately united in the eternal body of Christ. But it's still just sort of sad.
The last time I saw her she was still flitting around the front of my English classroom, talking 500 words a minute about the "powerful feeling" of the romantic writers and the marriage foils in Pride and Prejudice and leaving all of us as full as if we'd just sat through three or four lecture/discussions instead of only one.
That last day I saw her, she stopped near the end of class, announced she had cancer and probably not too long to live, told us she'd found a great substitute prof so we would still be very taken care of in our studies, and left the room before any of us (or she) could get all emotional. That was almost two years ago.
The last I'd heard, she and her husband were skiing in the Alps, and she was still running around and being all crazyily and energetically herself-ish.
And now I hear that she died, and somehow--even though I knew it was coming--it doesn't seem to be possible that she's not scaring and inspiring and enlightening the next batch of students. It is a great comfort to know that she is finally at peace, and no longer ravaged by cancer, and that she and her grieving husband and so many of her friends and students are ultimately united in the eternal body of Christ. But it's still just sort of sad.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Another life-long dream fulfilled
I had my first pottery class tonight.
You know how people say that throwing pottery is a lot more difficult than it looks? Those people are right. Even going into this assuming that it would be harder than it looked I was struck with its difficulty. Very fun, though. I'm assuming I'll get better at some point, and it will be even more fun, because when I'm finished I'll have pretty things instead of supposed-to-be-a-cylinder-but-looks-like-a-misshapen-bowl things. But hey, to quote my instructor: "If it has walls, and could hold water, then consider it a success." So, success!
And it's only the first night. Plenty of time for improvement.
You know how people say that throwing pottery is a lot more difficult than it looks? Those people are right. Even going into this assuming that it would be harder than it looked I was struck with its difficulty. Very fun, though. I'm assuming I'll get better at some point, and it will be even more fun, because when I'm finished I'll have pretty things instead of supposed-to-be-a-cylinder-but-looks-like-a-misshapen-bowl things. But hey, to quote my instructor: "If it has walls, and could hold water, then consider it a success." So, success!
And it's only the first night. Plenty of time for improvement.
Friday, February 27, 2009
A bittersweet parting
Well, Mobius moved to a foster home yesterday. The shelter waiting list to put a cat up for re-adoption is two months. (That's a long time to deal with a cat who at any moment may fling herself out the window.) Apparently, though, my flatmate has a co-worker who has been wanting a cat for a long time, but couldn't get one because she's a student and will be leaving in the summer. She was thrilled to hear she could take Mo until the shelter is able to take her back. Last night she came over and met the cat, and decided to give it a try.
I hope to find a good home for Mobius between now and her turn on the shelter list, so she doesn't have to go live in a little cage again. I'm glad I don't have to worry about her falling to her death every ten minutes, but I miss her. She's such a sweet and affectionate and quirky cat. Sigh. If only we didn't have these windows. :(
I hope to find a good home for Mobius between now and her turn on the shelter list, so she doesn't have to go live in a little cage again. I'm glad I don't have to worry about her falling to her death every ten minutes, but I miss her. She's such a sweet and affectionate and quirky cat. Sigh. If only we didn't have these windows. :(
Sunday, February 22, 2009
La iglesia (church)
I went to Spanish church today. It was fantastic. I think this might be the new Sunday routine: English service at 9, Sunday school at 10, Spanish service at 11, Cambodian lunch at 12. I was excited to find that I understood the sermon, and didn't even have to concentrate so hard to understand it that I missed the content. The pastor speaks extremely clearly, and apparently Spanish had soaked into me pretty well, even given the four-year French-only environment I suffered in Canada. The people there, too, were happy and friendly and glad I came, and say I'm welcome to come worship with them and practice Spanish any time. Oh, and the music was mariachi. Perfecto.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Week #4 - Talking (Finally)
Yesterday went really well. At least, as far as I can tell it did.
I had been feeling somewhat discouraged, just that I wasn't helping them as well as I could, you know? All their homework is reading and writing, which--while good--doesn't help at all with pronunciation or daily language use. Especially since they do their homework the way I did mine: skim for keywords to fill in the right answer as quickly as possible, without necessary bothering to read and figure out every word.
But I was at a loss as to how I could get them to practice talking more. Talking is intimidating. Even if you have the language in your head, getting it to come out of your mouth can be a huge struggle. I know from personal experience how frustrating it can be to have that war within yourself: recognizing and wanting that advantage of native-speaker help that comes only when you actually talk and take language risks with them, yet fearing to be misunderstood or offensive or look stupid by using the language "wrong" ("wrongly"?). Even with non-scary native speakers, the intimidation is there.
The only time I've had that intimidation lessen was during my own Karen-learning in school, actually, where it was just my friend and I hanging out with two native speakers and talking and playing simple games and trying language experiments and goofing off. We had structure, but it was organic and relaxed. And relationship-oriented. And fun.
So, anyway, with the help of my brilliant-at-planning flatmate, I went in yesterday with some simple maybe-this-will-start-us-talking supplies: storybooks, a stack of cards with simple pictures on them, and a mini whiteboard. Success!
We read the storybooks. Great pronunciation and reading practice, even if they didn't necessarily know what they were saying. But the best was the picture cards. I pulled out two at random--"tree" and "flowers"--and said "The flowers grow near the tree." They immediately started trying their own: "The flowers are in the forest with the tree." "The flowers are under the tree." The next pair: "book" and "television." "The book is on the television." "The book watches television" (tee hee hee). The more ridiculous the pairs, the more relaxed and fun we had making sentences. "Fish" and "chair": "The fish sits on the chair." "The fish sits on the chair and watches TV!" Lots of laughing and making jokes. And lots of talking. Yay! (And man, do they know more English than they let on before.)
Then they suggested another game: one person pulls a card, then has to describe it to the other people while they guess. Great language use. Even Karen Dad jumped in and guessed some, and Karen Mom would laugh at the jokes and practice saying the words she heard. We used the white-board to double-check spelling, and write new words to describe and guess. The neighbors came over--six of them at one point--and watched and laughed and joined in a bit. One of the neighbor boys in Junior-High-Son's class plans to come every Thursday he can: "To practice talking. It is very good." Aw. Good times.
I had been feeling somewhat discouraged, just that I wasn't helping them as well as I could, you know? All their homework is reading and writing, which--while good--doesn't help at all with pronunciation or daily language use. Especially since they do their homework the way I did mine: skim for keywords to fill in the right answer as quickly as possible, without necessary bothering to read and figure out every word.
But I was at a loss as to how I could get them to practice talking more. Talking is intimidating. Even if you have the language in your head, getting it to come out of your mouth can be a huge struggle. I know from personal experience how frustrating it can be to have that war within yourself: recognizing and wanting that advantage of native-speaker help that comes only when you actually talk and take language risks with them, yet fearing to be misunderstood or offensive or look stupid by using the language "wrong" ("wrongly"?). Even with non-scary native speakers, the intimidation is there.
The only time I've had that intimidation lessen was during my own Karen-learning in school, actually, where it was just my friend and I hanging out with two native speakers and talking and playing simple games and trying language experiments and goofing off. We had structure, but it was organic and relaxed. And relationship-oriented. And fun.
So, anyway, with the help of my brilliant-at-planning flatmate, I went in yesterday with some simple maybe-this-will-start-us-talking supplies: storybooks, a stack of cards with simple pictures on them, and a mini whiteboard. Success!
We read the storybooks. Great pronunciation and reading practice, even if they didn't necessarily know what they were saying. But the best was the picture cards. I pulled out two at random--"tree" and "flowers"--and said "The flowers grow near the tree." They immediately started trying their own: "The flowers are in the forest with the tree." "The flowers are under the tree." The next pair: "book" and "television." "The book is on the television." "The book watches television" (tee hee hee). The more ridiculous the pairs, the more relaxed and fun we had making sentences. "Fish" and "chair": "The fish sits on the chair." "The fish sits on the chair and watches TV!" Lots of laughing and making jokes. And lots of talking. Yay! (And man, do they know more English than they let on before.)
Then they suggested another game: one person pulls a card, then has to describe it to the other people while they guess. Great language use. Even Karen Dad jumped in and guessed some, and Karen Mom would laugh at the jokes and practice saying the words she heard. We used the white-board to double-check spelling, and write new words to describe and guess. The neighbors came over--six of them at one point--and watched and laughed and joined in a bit. One of the neighbor boys in Junior-High-Son's class plans to come every Thursday he can: "To practice talking. It is very good." Aw. Good times.
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