Grounded

Who would have ever thought I would be "grounded" at the age of 40 and yet that's exactly what I am, "grounded"!

I began working for Sky west airlines as a customer service agent (part-time) last winter with the thought that I might possibly want to become a flight attendant and travel the world.

I have decided that I like my own bed too much to fly ALL the time so customer service is a good fit for now. The real reason I took the position is the same reason that the other 90% of the people who work for airlines do, free flying for myself and my family!

I had such grand ideas of the places I would go, the people I would see. New adventures just a flight away.

I ran into a small glitch, I was working ALL the time! Between being an elementary secretary and working the few hours at the airport I had no time to travel.

Then came summer :) and seasonal leave of absence and Hawaii, San Francisco, Georgia and Colorado (3x's)!

Praise the Lord!

I returned to work in August, a little earlier than expected but then was put on leave again at the end of the month. This was perfect as it extended my travel time. You only get to travel for 90 days after you have taken a leave of absence.

 I got a call from the station manager yesterday letting me know that they won't be needing me til January or February. My response was "Great! No problem, don't worry about me, I'm so glad not to work two jobs and still be able to travel for free!"

Then came the bomb. My last day of work had been August 29th therefore the end of my 90 days was November 29th :( yesterday.

Grounded.

Now mind you I haven't gone anywhere since we went to Colorado in September. But now all I can think of is that I CAN'T go anywhere! Now all of a sudden I'm ready to fly to New York for Christmas, 

to Paris for the winter break

, to Abu dhabi like the "Sex in the City" girls. 

I'm sure if I had my benefits back I would be on my way to great adventures!

But for now I will be content, even thankful, to stay home with my wonderful family. Decorate my home. Be with my wonderful friends. Enjoy the Christmas season right here at home.

Pretty is . . . being grounded.

Pilgrims, Indians and Feasts!

Today was our Annual Pilgrim Chapel at Desert Chapel Elementary School where I am the secretary. This is absolutely one of my favorite days here at school.

The kids are allowed to dress up as Pilgrims and Indians (Native Americans to be PC) and most of them LOVE it. Our Kindergarten teacher Mrs. Vasquez always wears a beautiful headdress and the principal, Mrs. Conner wears a traditional Pilgrim dress that was handed down from one principal to the next for the last 15 years or so.

It's such a fun day, the kids first have chapel where each class does something different from Mrs. Grimm playing her accordion and the kids singing to the fifth graders reading the Thanksgiving poems they wrote themselves. The poems were so cute, here is one:

Gather round the table
as we say a Thanksgiving fable.
On this special Day
there's no need for cable!

Next the kids are off to their classes making all kinds of thinks, turkeys out of apples, turkeys out of pumpkins, turkeys out of paper bags etc.

Then comes the piece de resistance! The feasts!!! Each class has a potluck feast with parents bringing everything you would find at a traditional Thanksgiving dinner and some things you might not :) This is a day I am sure to be found visiting every class, my excuse, to take pictures of the darlings but the real reason is to sample each and every feast!

Such a wonderful tradition.
Pretty is a feast!

5 minute blog!

I only have a few minutes to pound this blog out. I gotta go! I'm on my way to watch my baby play her very last volleyball game ever!

Just wanted to say what a great time I had at the Point of Grace concert at the McCallum Theater here in Palm Desert CA. The women were fantastic. They have been singing together, worshiping the Lord together for over 20 years and they look fantastic! 

A group of us from the elementary school got to go together because of the thoughtfulness and generosity of one of our former school parents. She was unable to use the tickets and thought a group of tired teachers, a principal and a secretary might enjoy a fun night together. She was right!

There wasn't a dry eye among us by the end of the evening.

One of my favorite songs was called "King of the World" a beautiful song about a Daddy and his daughter. Perfect father/daughter wedding dance song (Morgan!)

You can look the song up on You-tube (I don't have time to figure out how to put a link on here)

I was completely blessed and reminded of God's grace regardless of our circumstances.

Pretty is Grace

"Mom Says" Monday

"Clean your plate, there are starving children in Africa!"

Now I have to say that this is not a saying that I ever heard my mom say but I know that some mom's, sometime must have said it 'cause it's out there.

My mom's rule was "two bites." My sister Jennifer, my brother Michael and I all had to take two bites of everything, no matter what.

Some things were not a problem. Thin, farm raised pork chops (poor Lucky the pig) were probably one of my favorite things for dinner. I'm pretty sure I could eat 5 pork chops in one sitting. Toast with butter and brown sugar on top, yummy! Sometimes my mom would come home to find that my sister and I had eaten a whole loaf of bread.

Other things, another story completely! Slimy okra, squash, liver and onions (does anyone feed their kids that anymore??), zucchini, blech! Utter torture! But nothing was worse to me than fresh goats milk.

Now that I live in CA again (as an adult) I realize that goats milk is very cool, trendy and even more expensive than regular milk. However, when I was twelve (everything in my memory happened when I was twelve) there was nothing I hated more than goats milk.

Here's the story, "The tale of the Goat's Milk", it's told every time my family gets together, somehow, someway it always gets told (Mom hates it.) I love to tell it. It makes me feel better about myself. I don't feel so bad about whopping my daughter on the head with a cereal box when she was in 4th grade when I tell it.

One day Michael and Jennifer were outside playing and I sat down to have lunch. My mother poured me a glass of delicious (not) goats milk. I let her know that I would not be drinking it and gently slid the glass across the table toward her. She calmly let me know that I would be drinking it and politely slid it back across the table to me. I felt the need to let her know that there was no need to boss me since Jenn and Michael were outside and they would never know that I hadn't had any milk with lunch. She let me know once again that I WOULD be drinking that milk. I, with anger and a little fear said "I will NOT drink it!" No one watching would have known that my mother was about to lose it. Only I knew by the slight quiver in her bottom lip. She very calmly picked up that glass of milk and poured it over the top of my head. She then said "Now clean up this mess" and walked out of the room. I was so shocked! I couldn't believe it! But, I thought to myself, at least now I don't have to drink it. Think again! I was soon poured another glass of that wonderful fresh goats milk and that time I did not argue. I still hate milk.

My mom did not lay on the guilt of starving children in third world countries, she didn't force us to eat full plates of food when we simply were not hungry. But she loved us enough to be the boss, to not back down, to make us try new things.

Pretty is "The tale of the Goat's Milk".

"Pencil in Hair"

"Pencil in Hair", a new catchy tune? A yoga move? An Indian name (you know like, Runs with Wolves)? No, it's me, at the end of a long "hairy" day at the elementary school/church where I work!

One of our pastor's is actually the one who first called my attention to the correlation between a very busy day and the pencil in my hair.

Something happens to me about halfway through the day.

I just can't make one more lunch for an adorable 3rd grade boy who has forgotten his lunch for the 6th time this month. 

I can't put one more band-aid on a sweet little girls blistered hand who won't stay off those darn monkey bars. 

I can't type one more urgent memo or newsletter or bulletin that parents never read anyway.

I can't help one more wonderful pastor figure out how to get a jam out of the copier. 

I can't do ANYTHING, until I get my hair up.

"Why a pencil?" you might be asking right now. It's not very stylish, not very classy, not cool. 

The answer ... it's on my desk, it's fast and then  ...

I can get on to the 100 other things that are going on around me.

Pretty is

a Pencil