All of us are guilty of collecting things....rubber bands to put around open chip bags, tools that may come in useful one day, socks that may eventually find a mate, jeans with too many holes but are still so comfortable, dogs, books, half used chapsticks, you get the idea.

I pride myself in being able to part with items I have not used recently. I don't collect anything and can't stand clutter. I do have a problem getting rid of horse blankets (I only own one horse but have about five blankets for him) and can't stand throwing out plastic containers and try to reuse them as much as possible. Jarred and I also have a hard time getting rid of back packs. I think we have at least five larger backpacking backpacks and about eight regular packs, ranging in size of course. While we don't need these, we can't seem to part with them and have an entire closet dedicated just to backpacks.

BUT there is a limit and my realization came to fruition last weekend. Last weekend we headed up to Tacoma to move Jarred's dad out of his duplex. Earlier this fall, Jarred's dad, Gary, fell and suffered a serious brain injury. While he is on the mend, he's not ready to live on his own yet and is currently in an assisted living facility in Spokane. Since his brain is not fully functional, he has little use for the myriad of things he collected. So, last Saturday Jarred's family and I got together to pack up his house. Now I'm sure Gary would not have considered himself a "collector" but the shit this guy had, definately put him in that category. I was in charge of packing up his clothing. As I hit the first closet, I thought to myself, "Wow, this guy has a lot of flannels." I think I counted 10. The second closet surprised me with EVEN MORE FLANNELS. I decided the man had hit his limit at 10 and gave the rest to the Goodwill.

We next hit the garage. Tools, tools and more tools and this was after he delivered an entire two tiered tool box, full of tools, to Jarred last fall. Not only did he collect tools, but he also collected car parts, tape, flashlights, sleeping bags and blow up rafts. Since packing up the garage was a team effort, much discussion went into what to ditch and what to keep. The collectors among us emerged. As we bantered over whether or not to keep fuel pumps from three different types of cars, we all came to the same realization....what will people say about us if they some day have to clean out our garages or houses? Will we be laughed at for what we decided to keep? I think we all secretly went home to analyze our "collections."

To solidify the theme of the weekend, as we were driving home on Sunday we passed a motorhome. I noticed the dash of the motorhome was cluttered with something and as I took a closer look, I realized that beanie baby on top of beanie baby were piled up on the over sized dash. I chuckled to myself as I imagined that motor home overturning and beanie babies flying everywhere...what would the medics think?

The teens revolt!

The one "good" thing about teaching, is that there is never a dull moment, nor do I have any leisure time, the days seem to fly by. I always wonder why some people have time to do online shopping while at work. I can barely find time to plan my next unit (this one happens to be Animal Farm- if you haven't read it, its great, and if you really want to understand the allegory behind the story watch a film on youtube called "Stalin: Reign of Terror), let alone do some online shopping.

Back to the lack of dull moments. Imagine yourself in a room with 20 kids, specifically, freshmen and sophomores. If I were to observe the actions of my students during class, they would range from coloring on oneself with a Sharpie (a new fad), picking ones nose, farting, writing notes, asking what the directions to the assignment are (when they're written on the board), asking what we are doing (when it's written on the board), asking when class ends (when it ends the same time every day), discussing fruit snacks and why they smell funny, and the one distraction I just don't get, reading Annimae (sp) books.

Now some of you may thing, "Well Sarah, you must be a really boring teacher." Well at times, maybe I am but there is just no way that I can create a grammar lesson that even comes close to Grand Theft Auto. There's no way Ayn Rand could write a book like South Park and try as I might, Guitar Hero does not fit into my curriculum. The hardest part of teaching is not the sorrowful stories of abuse, poverty and neglect. Nor is it the long hours of grading. The hardest part of teaching is trying to compete with the multitude of information and entertainment thrown at kids today. So while learning how to identify a verb in a sentence may seem dull, dull just does not fit into the classroom as there is too much going on. Take today, for example.

Our English department met this afternoon to do some much needed curriculum planning. This meant that I had a substitute for the latter half of the day. During the beginning of 5th period, my administrator walks in and asks to see me. Curious, I walk out into the hall with him, where he promptly tells me that our school policeman is in my room because my students are threatening to walk out. A revolt? Oooh, this ties in perfectly with Animal Farm.

I groan and head over, wondering what this group of socialites (three football players, two cheerleaders, a leadership student, three wrestlers and a hodge podge of other social butterflies) could be so upset about? Did someone cancel the next school dance? Or worse yet, was the athletic department's budget just cut in half, no more cheer leading?

I get to my portable to hear the end of our police officer's speech about respect. Twenty-four eyes turn to me as I head up to the front of the class.

"What happened?"I asked them, trying to get a feel for the reason for the revolt. All students are in their seats, in fact, their in their proper seats, they didn't even try to sit next to their friends while I was out. All students have their assignments out.

"Well..." Silence.

"Come one."

One girl finally pipes up. "She was rude to Jasmine before class started so Jasmine left. We were just standing up for Jasmine. Jasmine got kicked out and some of the boys threatened to leave."

Hmmm.

I ask the sub to come outside where we discuss what happened. I pretty much get a "He said, she said" story. I thank her, give my students one last evil eye and head off to find Jasmine, who has left class.

As I head over to find Jasmine, I ponder on the revolt and find it somewhat humorous that my students don't revolt because of an assignment or a seating chart or even a new rule, they revolt because of an argument that took place prior to their presence in the classroom and they couldn't even follow through with their revolt, as important as it seemed at the time. In fact, the entire incident took place before the bell could ring and only about five students were in the classroom at the time. He said, she said is a powerful tool.

What excitement will school hold tomorrow?

Fall Fun

Jarred's Halloween Costume which can also function as a Thanksgiving centerpiece.

Our friend Dylan in Seattle. Heavy equipment movers are in high demand right now. This is Dylan's training rig, in January he moves up to a Tonka truck.

Our favorite mountain biking trail up by Cook/Underwood.

Riding Nic, notice the missing bridle.

Jarred and Shuksan...notice Shuksan's feet...

The weather was so great in September and October, we found ourselves outside most of the time. Now that daylight savings time hit and it's rained for the past week, we're reminded of what fall can really be like in Washington.

Is the world going to be a better place now or what?