Traffic Termoil

I love the elderly. I actually hope to be one myself ,... someday (although I believe it's who you ask what elderly means, because my students would definitely say that I'm there already). However,... I do have a beef with the elderly.

Over the course of the past week, I've put in my share of time out and about and around the various shopping venues. I can't really say at this point what seems worse: driving to and around the stores or actually being in the stores and becoming challenged with the lack of room in which to maneuver my 4 foot cart in a 3 foot isle packed with others doing the same. Regardless of which one is the worse of evils, I'm beefing today about the first issue ... the driving!

I'm sitting at a four way stop and I'm next to go once the car directly across from me makes it through the intersection. My anticipation of being next builds with each full rotation of the car wheels. I slowly begin my slow creep forward in order to make the appropriate left hand turn when THIS CAR with a headless driver begins it's traffic movement directly following the car I was waiting on! I quickly look for a tow rope because this could be the only reasonable explanation for the premature crossing. Finding no said rope or chain, my gaze finds it's way to the driver seat in order for me to properly give the societal 'Hey, what gives?' look, but all I see are knuckles. That's right, knuckles,... clutching the wheel (10 and 2) and a fluff of gray hair. "Well, this can't be safe." The little lady had her eyes fixed directly on the car in front of her and damn the rules of the road, if she's in motion (slow motion), then others must respect her right of way and just adapt. This can't be correct though? Aren't their motor vehicle personnel who would stop such a thing? Shouldn't a license be given to those who can abide by universal common law rules of the road and not the rules of age? Where are the family members of this woman and why aren't they out looking for her? Perhaps even giving her tips on things such as, when to proceed through a four way stop.

Moments following the four-way debacle, I'm heading down a four lane road fixed between two major shopping stores. The chance of getting from one side to the other was near impossible with the traffic flowing in all four lanes. Yet, you know where this is heading? Damn the rules of the road, there's shopping to be had! All of a sudden, where even an experienced gamer in Frogger would have not dared leaped, there goes another elderly driver making the dash (no,.. a slow crawl) across all four lanes. Drivers on both sides begin hitting their brakes in hopes of avoiding a collision and all the probable insurance mess to follow. Like the parting of the Red Sea, cars came to a halt allowing the safe passage of this unlawful elderly speed racer. You have to be kidding? Another one? What is happening on our roadways?

Finally we had made our destination to the next store of isle horrors. As we began our pass in front of the store's entrance we came to our customary stop in order to let the pedestrians make the crossing in safety. As the group passed, there remained a lone straggler shuffling her way one line crossing at a time. With her pace at best equivalent to Tortuga, we waited and watched as she took her final step up onto the sidewalk. I kept scanning the lot, thinking there had to be someone with her, someone locking up the car or forgot something in the car and had to retrieve it. Nothing. No one.

"What do you think her reaction time is like in a car when it comes to making those quick decisions?" Kim said allowed.

"Not good, I would imagine," I replied as we found a parking spot. "Someone is going to end up in a serious accident at some point."

I've heard my parents talk about driving and the elderly before. I even understand the independence you take away from someone when they can't drive. Sam, our 15 year old, knows the lack of independence, but at what point do we stop the insanity of this blind, wishful driving? I had a thought the other day (as impractical as it may be) - beefed up bumper cars created for the elderly. Perhaps even separate driving lanes, similar to the ones they have for bicycles. With our society growing older, there will be more drivers out there who go at their own pace and their own rules.

I'm curious to know what the feelings and thoughts of others are. It's not a new issue, but it's one that's never been solved really.

Whoodle Watch

Someone will be keeping a watchful eye out for Santa tonight!

And Now I've Been Told Twice

"Have you put pictures on the blog yet?" Kim knew the answer to that question already. It was at the top of my list with balancing the bank account, vacuuming under furniture, and catching up on the People's Court.

"I'm on IT!"

With the recent departure of our beloved American Bulldog, Mojo to cancer, we decided to go in search of a new puppy. Enter Riley, the Whoodle. What's a Whoodle? Great question. Twenty years ago it would have been a mut, a mix, a non-specific type dog.

(Right: a photo of a grown Whoodle)

Today a Whoodle is considered a 'designer dog'. Part Poodle, Part Wheaten the Whoodle will will grow into,... a mut,... a non-shedding, allergy free, medium sized, bundle of happy go lucky, mut. The lady we got Riley from is currently working at getting the Whoddle recognized by the AKC as a bread she refers to as the Village Terrier. Now I have about as much knowledge regarding dog breeds as I do identifying what wine goes with what meal. So her telling me about the Village Terrier only makes me wish I had a good wine to go with my meal (what wine goes with basket of smelt?).

Riley is fairly brownish-red with a black muzzle, but as she grows, her hair color should change into a similar color as the dog above. She should grow to about 30 pounds. Quite a difference from Mojo, who strolled the neighborhood at around 115 or so.

With two weeks off before heading back to school, we have plenty of time to acclamate our new family member and to catch up on any sleep missed during the night due to potty training.

Merry Christmas

PS: I am working on the Christmas Note,... New Years Note next!

Matter of Tradition

The Great Tree Hunt '09

Each year it's a family tradition to bundle up, load up, and head out to the local tree farm in search of the perfect tree. Each year is also becoming a family tradition where we heavily negotiate the size of tree we are looking for. I prefer one that takes no added climbing devices in the house in order to place the angel on top, whereas the rest of the family wants one that goes from floor to ceiling,... and of course, Max would prefer that we do major construction on the house in order to have vaulted ceilings.

It's also become a tradition as to who carries the sharp object into the wilderness. "I got the saw!",..."No, I do!!" This is usually where I step in and control the blade of death before we end up making the unnecessary trip to the ER. Once we have our tree cart, we are set for the long eighth mile walk into the tree field.

Our third standing tradition has always been that each member selects their number one choice before we go with the one I want. This year Sam and Max thought that mocking me should be added to the list of traditions as they selected their choices. Little did they know that if their tree selections had actually had tags on them - we would have been on our way home!












Once we find the tree, it's a family effort to cut it down. With the size tree we often hunt, it's worthy of Paul Bunyen, and surely worthy of all of us pitching in to bring it down. After dropping the mammoth size lumber, there's but one solitary tradition left to go - Hoisting the

Tree in Victory! I wouldn't recommend this unless you've had some sort of proper training and/or have been cleared by your doctor.


Merry Christmas Everyone!

Ahhhh, Reading

How did he do it? Years ago I had a history teacher who made a living reading the newspaper. He never actually read to us, but instead sat behind his desk flipping page after page, droning over sports scores and national happenings. Everyone once in a while he would share whether his stocks were doing good or not. We in turn were quiet as happy clams because it meant that he was not actually instructing us and in turn giving out loads of homework.

Yesterday, I received a few 'prop' gifts for Christmas. One item was a newspaper. With the hustle and bustle of our Thursday Christmas parties, I never got around to unwinding the rubber band until today.

"Kids, before we get out of here today, you need to clean out your desk," I'm sure this is a standing order in most schools the last day before a break. As I wandered through the room checking on the various bottomless pits, I spotted the newspaper at the front of the room, still rolled neatly together. What a great opportunity to see what's in the news,... or so I thought.

There's something about me calmly reading in class that draws 4th graders - like passers-by to an accident, they just have to stop and see what's going on. Perhaps it's the look of peace on my face that sends out a non-verbal signal that says 'Help ME! I'm way to relaxed right now and need to talk about someone who has a cousin who has a pet that nearly got run over by the lawnmower years ago.'

As I unfolded each section and began to read different articles I can honestly say that I didn't make it through a single one. I did however learn that one boy wrestles a lot, another girl is working on a drawing for me, I was informed that the country that eats the most bread is Turkey, there's a birthday coming up in the spring time and would it be okay to bring a treat, another boy wanted me to know that he's leaving a paper in his desk which is done, but not due until we return,..... Yep, didn't finish one article. As I took a deep breath, glanced at the clock to see if the 10 minute cleaning period was almost over, I thought of my former teacher with wonderment - for he had mastered something that remains intangible to me - peace while reading. Merry Christmas Everyone.

Need to Know,.. or just,.. No Need

Coming back to school after a snow day is similar to the last day of school ... nobody is in the right mindset for education. Everyone carries on about what they did on their 'free day' from school. Everyone talks about the 'one more day' aspect, "We needed just one more snow day to round out the week!" Everyone shares what traditions they carried out in order to attain the elusive day, "I wore my pajamas inside out and backwards." ... "Well, I did that too, but I also put a huge spoon under my pillow!" Then the bell rings and the students show up.

Today's much like any other - it's every family every day. I'm moving beyond the 'every child every day' approach because I've realized one crucial element to helping every child every day is also helping every parent every day. Here, let me explain with a little something I like to call,... my daily encounter of the "Huh?"

"MR. KELLY!!!!!!" screams an impatient child. "MY MOM WANTS TO KNOW WHEN THE HOLIDAY PARTY IS!!!!"

"Huh? ... (slight pause) It's next week," I was stuck between answering the question and trying to figure out why she doesn't know this already. "I've been writing it in the newsletter for the past three weeks, as well as it being posted on line and in the school newsletter."

"Well my mom doesn't read those things, so she told me to find out from you!" and there you have it. In a nutshell, life has become to hectic to take time to search for information. It's become similar to our need for the feed me quick answer society in which we live. I'm guilty of it as well. I seldom get around to reading the classroom newsletter that my own children bring home,... but I also don't ask questions, so my 'in the dark' fatherly persona remains unblemished. Tip #1: Whenever there is an event at the school and the school along with the teacher both send out weekly news, chances are,... it's in there. Now you have no need to know what is already known.

Popcorn Snow

We've all experienced it,... you're at home doing your own thing, when suddenly you are hit with the smell of buttered popcorn floating through the air. Go ahead, take a few moments to breath in deeply and test your olfactory senses. The smell is intoxicating, mouth watering, and says to the body, it's time to relax and enjoy a good movie or book while munching on some corn.

The picture changes,... I'm in school teaching metric measurement to 21 eager learners who suffer from one form or another of metric measurement phobia, only because they had their parents say, "I hate metrics! Didn't get it when I was in school and I don't get it now. Nobody uses metric, sept those soft drink companies and Canadians. Good luck, you're on your own!"

"As we learn to count to ten, we discover that there are ten millimeters in a centime... ,"

"WHAT'S THAT SMELL?" one student blurts out.

"POPCORN!!!" others cry in unison.

"Where's it coming from? Do we get popcorn today? Will they bring it before recess? What time is recess? I LOVE popcorn! " the comments and questions begin flying.

"Okay. I have no prior knowledge of moms making popcorn for us today, but I do smell it as well. If they bring it to our classroom, then it will be here,... and we'll eat it. If not,... then we won't,....... eat it," I find that being real specific with directions and information helps somewhat, sort of, possibly, perhaps. "Let's get back to metrics for now. We have the 10 millimeters which make up 1 centimeter (pointing at the overhead screen with ruler displayed). You then have 10 centimeters which make up a decim...,"

"LOOK! SNOW!!" a window sitter calls out, drawing attention to the snow blowing around the playground.

"Oh, COOL!" a boy begins to lean over his desk in order to get a closer look at the snow fall.

"People, we all know what SNOW looks like! Remember what Mr. Kelly said. We don't need to get all excited each time it snows!" my teacher want-to-be jumped in on the action to remind the kids what I had said days before when it snowed the first time. What I had actually said was, it's exciting to see snow fall for the first time of the year, but let's not get hung up on it for twenty minutes jumping up and down pointing at each individual flake - let's take it in and move on. Which is what I was attempting to do with the metric system - unsuccessfully.

After the go-ahead finger point, head nod by my little room-mom of a student and the room settled back down to a dull buzz, I noticed a kid in the back of the room waving his arm in the air as if he were about to burst. A good question or answer is like helium for the hand in a classroom; the better the question or answer, the higher the hand goes,.. literally raising students out of their chair - I've seen it with my own eyes several times. "Yes, what is it?"

"Mr. Kelly, I got it! They are making popcorn to celebrate the snow!!" And there it was,... the double whammy. The mention of popcorn and snow all in one sentence - the class was gone!

Give a Little .... at a time

"What do you mean we're out of money? I still have shopping to do."

Has this conversation happened in your house yet?

It never fails that no matter how much I save and plan for Christmas gifts, I never seem to have enough to go around. It gets worse each year. I've concluded that in my choice of presents going from Fisher-Price tractors to Uber-Electronics, there's just not enough to cover more than one gift per child. But you can't just have one gift under the tree, can you? Of course not! You can't go from the toddler child who use to get about 50 different toys because they each cost a mere $2, to one gift. Half of the fun on Christmas morning is watching the kids open their presents.

That's why, this year I've decided to take apart the one electronic gift and spread them out over several boxes and gift wrappings. I'm figuring upwards of twenty boxes should do the trick. When they are completely done unwrapping each gift-box, they can then begin building the one device back into a whole working unit of electronic wonderment! Sound crazy? I think not - you just have to be sure to get the warranty.

Lit Up

"Do either of you smoke?" asked our waitress.

Seemed like a strange question as we sat in the Irish Pub in Holland, having a celebratory late night snack, due to Kim wrapping up another master's class. "No we don't."

"Well,.. I thought I should ask because in about ten minutes this whole place goes from smokeless to smoking," as her words hung in the air, I tried to recall state laws.

Before I could grasp the slightest jurisprudence thought rattling in my brain, a gal walked by our table carrying two packs of cigarettes in each hand. I found it odd that she was taking her smoking to such a serious level. As I turned around to view the rest of the room to see if anyone else was preparing to vacate as fast as we were, I glanced at the tab

le directly behind me and the guys who had been chatting over a couple pints were now flicking lighters, as two packs of cigarettes sat in front of them. Moments later, a waitress careened through room between the tables doling out ash trays like a blackjack dealer in a casino. It was as if a switch had flipped and we were just waiting to hear the voice of Rod Sterling drift through the air, Your next stop ... the Twilight Zone.

"People must REALLY be intense with smoking around here," I threw out my observation to the waitress.

"Oh no," she said, "if you did smoke you could get two packs of cigarettes for free by just letting them scan your ID. It's a promotional thing every week."

All For 10 Minutes

It was suppose to be a simple planning trip that went down a long, winding road leading to the money pit of doom. Let me expound...

"Hey, let's head out to the fireplace shop today and look over our choices so I can get started on the framing portion," I have always wanted to add a fireplace in the living room,... something to place my television over while I watch Sunday Football - something about that set up is comforting for us men.

"Okay, but I need to work on my school work for a little bit before we go." Little did I know that those words would end up changing the next two days.

I like to have a project going and one in the talking phase,.. and one in my mind to spring on Kim for whenever we find down time and need to DO something. For now the project is the living room / fireplace followed by the dreams, hopes, misguided delusions of redoing the kitchen down the road.

I knew looking at fireplaces and talking specs wasn't going to be the most thrilling part of Kim's day, so I closed the fireplace conversation with, "While we're out, let's swing by Lowes and get some ideas for the kitchen. I'll even measure the kitchen so we can have some plans drawn up." What was I thinking?! While we're out,... measure the kitchen,... plans!?!?!?!?! I was out alright,... out of my mind. Why don't I just dangle my arms over a boat in front of a group of hungry, angry alligators and see if they'll bite.

After Kim wrapped up her school paper, she was more than ready to get out of the house and away from any and all desk work. As we drove to the store, we discussed what we wanted in a fire place: the design, function, and more design. Pretty much it was more of me explaining my vision of how I thought it would look when I finished building the whole mantle / shelving,.. and Kim quietly thinking to herself: Boy, I hope he doesn't mess this up!

Pulling into the parking lot, something seemed strange. Like there was no sign of life in the store, around the store, or within 500 feet of the store. We did the s l o w w a l k up to the door, looking for the 'hours of operation'. "Darn it! Missed it by ten minutes!" ten minutes

"Maybe they're still around," Kim was being optimistic.

"Not on a Saturday. These guys were probably sitting in their cars at 2 waiting to pull out (the sign had business hours 'open until 2 PM' - my watch read 2:10) and start their weekend," I was like a kid who rips through every wrapped gift under the tree in hopes of that one special present,... slightly let down. "Let's head to Lowes."

"What's the cut off point?" We had finished our visit with the cabinet guy and were heading home.

"What do you mean, cut off point?" Kim was more than excited to see what the kitchen would look like with new cabinets. After listening to what we wanted and going over the space we had, the cabinet guy told us that it would be a few days before he could have a drawing put together for us to come back and take a look at. This move is similar to going from bean bags in your living room to actual furniture. You can be comfortable in both, yet one simply feels like a vast improvement towards adulthood.

"I can sense you desperately want the new kitchen and I'm willing to put off the living room project, but it needs to be within some kind of budget. So, what's the dollar point where we say no to the kitchen and I go back to my original plan?"

Kim was quick with a response, "Let's see what he says first."

One Day Goes By and the phone rings with a the caller ID showing LOWES.

"I'm done with the drawings, so whenever you have time,...." it took seconds to process this answer.

"We'll be in today."

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as we left the store with drawings in hand. Sixteen thousand dollars and some change for cabinets. No pulls, no counter top, no new appliances,... just cabinets. I figured it was well beyond the point of our cut off. "Well, that does it. Back to Plan A - the fire place."

"What do you mean?" Kim seemed puzzled by my dismissal of a new kitchen. "Did you see what it's going to look like? Did you see how much space we're going to have compared to what we have now!? You're the money man,... you can figure a way!" With that bit of encouragement, we are moving forward with our fireplace.

So what's the lessons to be learned by this little endeavor? Don't be 10 minutes late and don't entice your wife with home improvement projects you can't back with money.

Sweet 13

With every office visit usually comes the comment by Mayo personnel, "So Hannah, you're twelve and in what grade?"

With every question regarding age and grade, Hannah responds with, "Soon to be 13!"

Yes you are honey. You are soon to be 13 and this picture captures it all. Happy Birthday this Friday!

OYAM

Sometimes working in reverse is not a bad thing. I had forgot to mention to others that we were heading back to Mayo for scans. So I'm a little behind with the information. The point is we're here and we got to stop at Kutter Harley (my personal favorite store) and see Kerry (our favorite Harley Lady)!




"Did you post?" Kim sat across from me this morning as we reclined in the first of many waiting rooms, sipping down our morning caffeine.

"Huh?" I was fairly certain what she meant, but in order to deflect the question, buy some time to down a few more sips of 'Ahhhhh, that's good', and to hopefully have something / anything else suddenly happen that would distract her from the original question, I reckoned the 'huh' retort would be sufficient.

"You heard me," there it was. The no non-sense 'you heard me' response. As if she had been down this road with me before and knew that I was dodging, ducking, and generally in avoidance of any responsibilities. "You didn't post,... did you?" She knew the answer, but in the grand scheme of things, just needed to hear me admit to it.

"I will," taking another drink in order to pump myself up for more quick, diverse thinking in case she had more matter of fact questions for me,... like, 'Did you remember to charge your cell phone so that it works and I can get a hold of you if I need to?' Any one who knows me well, knows that I'm against cell phones when it comes to them ringing anywhere and everywhere. Half the time I have mine, it's more for show because it's either off or has a dead battery that I forget to charge.

Okay, enough about my cell phone habits,... we're back at Mayo for a series of scans and tests. Hannah's been jumping from one waiting room to the next with us in tow. SO far we've managed a couple heart tests, an MRI, and currently wait for the CT. It's not the tests that are the most nerve racking of all (unless you were to ask Hannah about needles - she may have a different view). It's that first doctor's visit... the one in which you hear the results of the tests. You would think it's something you just get use to, but unfortunately it's kind of like taking the driver's license test - you feel fairly confident going into the test, but there's also a touch of apprehension that there may be something on the test that you weren't ready for and may not be able to answer correctly. That's pretty much it in a nutshell,.. just magnified by a lot.

"I posted," writing accomplished, I was happy to report back to Kim that I found some quiet time to jot a few lines. Thanks for reading. I will live to write another day!

What's Your Response?

With first quarter in the books, it's time once again to review some of the favorite missing homework stories as told to me by students.

"Where's your homework?"

Response #1:

Student: "Well,... you see it's like this. My mom said you were teaching it wrong and by the time she taught me the right way, it was time for me to go to bed."


Response #2:

Student: "Our wood floors were being done last night and my homework was inside the house and I couldn't go in to get it."

Mr. Kelly: "How did your homework get in to the house in the first place?"

Student: "I put it there. How do you think?"

Response #3:

Student: "I planned to do it last night when I got home, but then the plans changed."


Mr. Kelly: "Oh, I see. Did your parents take you somewhere or you had some family thing that popped up?"

Student: "No."

Mr. Kelly: "So, no emergency,... no unforeseen trip out,... you were just at home,.. all night?"

Student: "Well,... yeah. Can I turn it in tomorrow and can you not count it late?"

Response #4:

Student: "I just had it and now it's GONE!"

Mr. Kelly: "Where did you just have it?"

Student: "I'm pretty sure it was right here! (pointing at the desk top)"

Mr. Kelly: "Well, let's check around to make sure that it didn't fly off somewhere." I made my way back to the hanging file folders to check the outgoing mail for students.

Student: "Oh no,... I know it was here! And now it's gone, just like that!!"

Mr Kelly: "Would this be your paper that you're looking for? And would this be the papers you never took home last night? (holding up a full file folder)"


Response #5:

Student: "You never gave me the assignment."

Mr. Kelly: "Yes I did. I passed it out to everyone in class."

Student: "I must have been gone."

Mr. Kelly: "Then I would have laid it on your desk."

Student: "It must have fell off then."

Mr. Kelly: "So what did you do when you returned from your trip, from where ever you went, and we spent 40 minutes working on the assignment in class yesterday?"

Student: "I don't know. You never gave me the assignment."

Student 2 walks in: "We worked on it together yesterday. Mine's right here (holds up the paperwork)."

Student: "Oh that assignment! I know I did it, but I can't find it."

Response #6:

Student: "I left it in my backpack."

Mr. Kelly: "Where's your backpack?"

Student: "In my locker."

Simmer Down Now

"I'll wait,..........." I had asked my students to quiet down and was using some Love and Logic patience on them. As I sat looking out on an unaffected class, I began my flash back in time to a place where my classmates and I once ruled the room. We loved,.. no make that adored, teachers who allowed us to run things our way. Who wouldn't? We started class when we were ready, we ended it when we had enough (usually they were minutes apart). We even had the homework things down,..."We can't do homework tonight, there's a football game." And now,.. I had become my teachers. It's true what they say about things in education coming full circle. Like bell-bottom pants, I was living in the past.

The noise began to elevate and bodies started moving from their once stationary position seated behind a desk. I snapped my mind from my happy place back to the classroom. While it's true I was using Love and Logic rather than screaming from the top of my lungs EVERYBODY BE QUIET!,... I had the final part of my sentence to finish, the one that I had begun five minutes earlier,.. the ending to a sentence that would prove who was still in charge of the room,.. the ending to a sentence that would be considered the knock out punch in a prize fight,... "I'll wait for everyone to be quiet. What I don't cover in class today will be homework." BOOM, there it was! I laid out the end of a sentence with the calm of a storm before the worst is unleashed. Only I wasn't unleashing, I was calmified. I didn't need to repeat myself,... you really need just one kid to hear the word homework and you immediately have the numbers on your side.

Room established to order.

Book Week IS Here

Two Signings Coming Up:

The Return to Galien. Since graduating from Galien in 1984, I've made several trips back and a lot has changed over the course of 25 years (the biggest one being the shut down of GHS). Another change is the library. "You'll be very impressed when you return to see the upgrades we've made to the library," Linda told me as we talked about the book signing. To be honest, I was never one for stopping in the library much. Probably because it was located near the baseball field and tennis court and if I made the trip to town, chances were it was likely to go to a court or field before sitting in the library with a good book. "I think I will be be very surprised," I replied.

I do have memories of going to the library, after all, it happened to be located across the street from my grandparents house, which probably gave me an escape from the evening news with my grandpa,... and I'm sure one or two of my teachers gave me cause for research. I remember a small, quaint room which housed tall shelves, or at least they seemed tall to a little boy. It held that inescapable book smell that is best described as 'old'. I also recall an elderly woman who managed the library, never talked to me much, which seemed good for me, because I didn't really have much to say. And then there was this window in the back that seem to light the small room with a sense of life. I remember thinking that if I ever needed to get out of there quick,.. that window would make the perfect exit. Of course, I never had a reason to use it.

I'm looking forward to seeing the upgrades and spending some time in a library that I spent more time riding by on the way to play then I did actually stopping in. If you find yourself in Galien this Tuesday, stop by (I don't think there's a game going on at the field), stop in, and I have a good book for you. Tuesday, November 3, 7-8 PM.


If you're in Niles this weekend,.. the Niles Star reports:

Local authors to gather for signing

By JESSICA SIEFF
Niles Daily Star

For painters, there are murals and galleries and museums.

For sculptors there are tons of sand and blocks of ice that make their way to downtown Niles each year. For musicians – air to breathe and wind to carry the sound from the Riverfront Amphitheater.

But there is another art form alive and well in Niles, if not a little hidden – the art of the written word. Four local authors will be on hand in downtown Niles for a group signing of some of their work Nov. 7.

“There are a lot of writers in Niles,” said Stephani Wuthnow, one of the authors who will be signing copies of her book at Color Me Christian at 101 E. Main St. in Niles on Nov. 7 from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.

The authors may all be local writers but their featured works seem distinctly different, offering a variety for readers who make their way downtown for the signing.

Joining Wuthnow on Wednesday, Nov. 7 will be:

• MaryBeth Seal, author of the novel ‘Valley Girl.’ “We have all been a valley a girl at some time or another,” Seal writes on the book’s back cover. “Walking through valleys of trouble, sorrow, even the shadow of death is something we all can relate to.”

Where finding a way out of trouble and sorrow may be the subject of Seal’s novel, romance and Scotland serve as the backdrop for ‘Edwina,’ by Patricia Strefling.

The book describes the title character as”a small town librarian” who “loves her predictable lifestyle.” After her stepsister bails on a trip to Scotland, Edwina is left “exhausted and alone in Edinburgh,” where she “collapses into the arms of a tall Scot.” Her adventures with a new cast of characters serve as inspiration for Edwina, in Strefling’s “sweet romance” for readers from teens and up.

Strefling already has a sequel to the book in mind.

• David Kelly’s book ‘Time Out’ brings a new perspective to the phrase in his recollection of his daughter’s fight with cancer.

In the book, Kelly “recounts his family’s journey as his daughter, Hannah, battles a rare form of childhood cancer.

“At the time of her prognosis,” as the book describes, “Hannah was a fun-loving, ten-year-old girl who was looking forward to a summer playing basketball.

“Instead, she and her family would be at the Mayo Clinic, entering into the unknown medical world of oncology, radiology, and childhood cancer support. With thousands of newly-diagnosed children per year, Time Out not only walks you through experiences shared by many but inspires you with this family’s story of faith, strength, and hope.”

• Pastor Kevin Hester of Coloma is also making his way to Color Me Christian Nov. 7. with his books that focus on the harms caused by gossip. The ‘Gossip Free’ series looks at the dangers of the practice of gossip as it affects teens and young adults, children and even the workplace.

And Wuthnow brings a fresh take on teaching children about music in “A Musical Mouse in a Rhythmical House.”

Wuthnow said the “engaging storybook” can serve as a child’s first music lesson and is the first in a series that she’s planning for publication for young children ages 5-8.

“A Musical Mouse” focuses on the principals of music and how to work well with other musicians through the art of storytelling.

“The delightful secret is, adults who wish to begin learning music can also benefit from this series,” Wuthnow states about her book. “The appealing story line and illustrations of this book teach young children basics of rhythm, and resource ideas for parents and teachers are featured in the back pages of the book.”

Wuthnow said there will be door prizes and light refreshments during the signing.

I WANT an A!

"She's always gotten A's," seems to be the standard line I hear as a 4th grade teacher when meeting parents for the first time. Since when does a year of 3rd grade, where grades first begin, constitute a pattern of straight A's?

I wish I could have used that line throughout my entire educational career - 'Well, I don't know what that science professor was thinking by giving me a B in biology. Doesn't he realize I got an A in 3rd grade science , which covered all the science disciplines, not just one?'

The pressure to achieve is always a bit of a puzzle for me. Not that the pressure is there, but more from the standpoint of where the pressure comes from (student, parents, or peers). Sometimes I have students that experience all three. They have the parents who talk constantly about 'A's or failure', followed by their own pressure to maintain an A or feel like a failure, increased by friends who also strive for the A.

As the teacher, I've always found that students who prepare, focus on their studies, put in their best effort, and follow through on their assignments, tend to do rather well. Yet, it's the students who have the A's already that come in and request / demand the extra credit work to ensure their chances of not only the A, but possibly the A++.

To my demise / fault I try and let these students know that it's okay to let the grade handle itself and they can focus on learning. What a concept! We actually put aside the goal of a grade and learn something. The problem with my attempt is that most parents view this as my interfering with the grand plan of the aforementioned straight A plan. After all, no matter how many times I say it, some believe that colleges do look at elementary records for entry.

Let me set something straight,... I like grades. I like the goal setting, I like the attempt to attain, and I even like showing kids how close they are to making their goals with bi-monthly reports. I think it's life when we get to see where we sometimes fall short, sometimes where we can relax and breathe easy, and other times where we are right on track. Grades give that gauge to students. Heck, whenever one of my kids come home after bombing an assignment or test, it usually sends up a flare that there's something we need to review and work on. It signifies that learning was neglected and more effort must be put forth. It does not indicate that the world has stopped spinning, that the college application stack needs to be reduced, or that life as we know it has suddenly and drastically taken a turn for the worse.

So how do you get this point across when a child walks in and says, "My mom wants to know if you can give me extra credit so I can get the highest grade in class." Most of the time, I don't. It's heart breaking to see a child put under this kind of pressure, but this kid is my student, not my own child. It's really important to put on a smile and reassure that student that know matter what, I appreciate their effort,... and we don't do extra credit to make goals,... that's what daily work is for.

I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.
- Edison

I would love to hear how other teachers feel about this topic.

Two Reasons I Love Volleyball

On the Net

With Time Out set for release tomorrow, it hit the internet today!

Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, Borders, Better World Books, and others. If you want to get your hands on a signed copy, we have plenty of those too. You can order through us by following the directions on the left side bar.

Measure of Winning

What's the measure of winning? Surely there can only be one team / player that ends on a winning note.

State Champion.
National Champion.
World Champion.

I believe it comes down to expectations. If you reach a certain plateau and know that taking the next level is well beyond your reach,... then if failure is met, winning doesn't seem to be much of a measurement. However, if your expectations are in line with success and you don't meet the mark,.. then winning becomes the end all. But should it really matter? Winners say 'yes' to this question, while the losing side says 'no'. Take for example the Notre Dame v. USC game to be played today. Clearly USC has dominated and created a history of winning over Notre Dame, yet will they fold or concede their season if they lose? I don't believe that's the way it goes. It's just a matter of dealing with the disappointment of losing before you pick yourself up, refocus on what's ahead, and talk of a new day where winning is the target. It's called competition - something we strive to eliminate in our schools because we don't want kids to have to deal with disappointment. It's why in some youth arenas the score is not kept. Right or wrong,... it's our way of helping the little ones cope and keeping some over-zealous parents in check.

Sam's tennis just wrapped up the State Tennis Tournament where he and his partner (Alex) made it to the third round before dropping a close one. Just over half of the flights on his team dropped matches in the third, with a few playing on.

"I don't want to talk. Not NOW." There were several of these conversations held between players and parents as the day went on, as teams lost their chance to define their season. I couldn't help but think that while these boys will take a few moments to drop to the depths of disappointment, it's the bounce back that really defines them. Ranked #4 in the State and shooting for the Team State Championship, I know that they are disappointed, but the fact remains that you play to compete, you compete to win, you define yourself and your team by where you are, where you want to be, and how will you get there.

"So, what's in store for next year?" I asked Sam as we sat on the couch at home after a long day of tennis.

"A lot of work," he replied.
Best answer I could have hoped for.

And the Band Played On

"So will they be bringing out the football team to fill in the downtime?" I was attending my second band festival of the season. My first one was directly following a day of tennis watching Sam and the Bears, so it was more of a one and done scenario. We ran in right before the band took the field, threw Sam into a band uniform, and paid the token allotment to listen to 'the band'. After the performance, it was right back into the van, and off for home. This band festival was not going to be the same.

"So,... we can leave after the Bears are done, right?" It was more like a wish that I was stating rather than a question. Perhaps I should have made a cake and blown out the candles first.

"No! We're staying to listen to the bands," Kim is a person with a toe to tap whenever any band takes the field.
"The Bands?" I gave it my best surprised to hear that voice, but it was futile.

I gutted the festival out like a pillager with no village to pillage. The last band had finally finished their four-part program and the masses had begun the exodus. I stood with the excitement found within any kid on the last day of school, when I felt a tug, "Where are you going? They have to give out the awards," Kim hadn't budged - not one centimeter from her seated position.

"Awards? Are you serious? You want to sit through the awards?" I could hear myself asking the questions, but deep, deep down we all know the answer and the outcome.

For Real

Conversation held between myself and one of my students"

"Are you ready for the quiz today?"

"There's a quiz today? For real?"

"It's not for fake. I told the class about it yesterday."

"No way! For real?"

"Once again,... not for fake."

"Aw that's not right."

"What's not right?"

"That you're giving a quiz for real."

"Would you feel better about it if I gave a quiz not for fake?"

"Yeah,.. wait,... what? You're confusing me."

"Wait until you see your quiz."

"For real?"

"No,.. that one was for fake. Now go sit down so we can start."

Long Time Coming Foto Friday

Our Book Signing may be over, but we'll be heading back to WINGS ETC. before you know it!

Hannah was given a gift from WINGS ETC.

We love the girls at WINGS ETC.!

When All You Have Are Twin Sheets - Make 'Em Work

"So can we work with a partner?" came the voice from the back.

I had just finished explaining the difference between math 'group' work (which had been done earlier in the day) and 'independent' work (which was about to happen). Typically giving directions in great length and detail the first week or so: "In math you will have 'group' work and 'independent' work," I had begun laying out the dynamics of Everyday Math that would be taking place ... everyday. "Group work is done with your group. It begins with the letter 'G' as in 'Gosh, I get to work with others!" I went on to cover independent, "Independent work is done on your own,.. as in, I have to do it all by myself."

"You've already completed your group work for today, so that leaves the independent assignment on page three," I gestured toward the white board behind me which outlined the days schedule and assignments covered that day. No,.. I'm no Vanna White, but I could take the place of Pat Sajack if given the right dollar amount as an incentive.

"Any questions," I scanned the room looking for lost souls in search of a way out. "Fantastic! You may get started," seeing no hands shoot up, I proceeded to close my books, grab my notes, and proceeded to prepare for the next lesson.

"So can we?" the voice asked again as if my non-reply might be an indication of the go-ahead.

The beginning of each year is a lot like trying to fit twin sheets on a queen bed. They look like they should fit, so you stretch and pull as hard as you can, only to find out, after exhaustion has set in, that no matter what further effort you put forth,... there's no possible way things are going to work just the way you had hoped. Yet, you're stuck with twin sheets non-the-less.

Livin' on Caffeine

I've had short nights before. The kind where you wake up at 4 in the morning and end up listening to the sounds of night until you finally give in and get up. Well last night was an all time, put it in the books, sleep little type of night!

I went to bed, extremely tired, right around the ten o'clock hour. So far, so typical. I awoke at eleven, having felt as if I had already sacked a good six hours. You've got to be kidding, I glanced at the clock expecting it to read the usual three or four in the morning. It's only been an hour, this is not good, as I fluffed the pillows, repositioned myself for an even better 2nd go of things.

Slowly my mind took over and went down many roads of it's own,... I have Back to School Night coming up - really should plan for that,... I really did a good job on grilling the chicken tonight,... My arms are still killing me from lifting the other day, I wonder what the old guy rule is for recovery,... How is it that the street light always seems to land right on my face through the smallest of slit in the shades,... what time is it? This is the point you glance at the clock and hope it's time to get up - nope. Twelve minutes just rattled off. A whopping twelve.

I spent the next hour tossing and turning trying to convince myself that if just find that one elusive spot of slumber, I will be out like a light. I close my eyes, clear my mind, breath deeply to soothe the body into rest,... and yet I'm still awake!

The next phase is what I like to call 'The Argument'. I should just get up and go watch some television,... no I shouldn't because I'm comfortable and I need to fall asleep, not be up watching a late late show. It's that inner struggle that bounces back and forth long enough that you finally give in and head to the living room. Why? BECAUSE YOU"RE STILL AWAKE AND TALKING TO YOURSELF IN SILENCE - SEEK HELP!

Perhaps if I just lay down on the couch as I watch tv, I will eventually drift off. This plan had the makings of brilliance, if it weren't for a couple minor flaws: the dog's sleep barking and my intermittent moments of falling to sleep, only to be woken by a hefty snoring sound that shook my inner being. The bright spot here was the fact that I now knew sleep was possible. By two I was ready to hit the sack once again and round out this night of horror.

For some reason, as soon as I laid my head down on the pillow, my mind went right back to the wandering trail of torture. I drifted from one thought to another, one checklist of things needing accomplishment to long term projects. Three rolled around without the slightest nod to slumberland.

So here I sit. At school, with absolutely nothing to do,.. because I got up at three and came to work and cranked out all my plans, all my paper work, and yes,.. even the Back to School Night agenda. It's now that I realize that while I've pumped myself full of caffeine, there is no hope. My mind is shot, my energy drained, and my desk looks good enough to sleep on.

Food Stupid

So there we were, 7:42 at night, walking through the isles of Martin's Supermarket trying to decide what we needed for that night's dinner. It had already been a long day that was made longer with the realization that there was no food at home.

No food at home? I could have sworn that the refrigerator has something on every shelf; that the pantry is full top to bottom; that the freezer holds something edible. No food at home?

"Remember when we weren't 'food stupid' and made great meals?" I decided to throw out the question that had been plaguing me since the vegetable and fruits section.

"Food stupid? What do you mean by that?" Kim shot back as if both puzzled and defensive by my comment.

"I remember meals that we use to have which contained a main dish, a side vegetable, and even a carb or two. We use to plan our meals,... talk about our meals,... set out tableware for our meals. Now it's frozen pizza, fish sticks, spaghetti, or grilled cheese sandwiches with chips. We can't even think of what makes a decent meal now-a-days," there,... I had said it. I wasn't pointing blame, I was defining defeat.

And there we stood by the meat department - dumbfounded. The realization of life at light speed had hit us. The fact that it was now 7:54 and we hadn't even broached the checkout line with tonight's feast of 'I haven't a clue'.

"I never thought of it that way, but you're right," Kim had that look on her face like a child learning a factoid for the first time.

With a smile towards one another we walked on in happy stupidity for tonight would be no different from the night before. We could order out food like nobody's business, but when it came to down home cooking,... it would be left in the dark for another night. It was late,.. we were exhausted,... and grilled cheese sandwiches and chips sounded perfect by the time we hit the dairy products.

Hot as They Come!

Wings over radiation any day! When given the option of listening to your favorite music while a laser pin points the exact spot to induce the radiation into your tumor,... or go for some super hot wings with a dill spear chaser, the choice is easy. "Extra pickles please," Hannah is known for requesting the extra dill spears every time we take a trip to our favorite wings spot, Wings Etc.

This is probably why she jumped so high when we listened to the voice message left by Darla, the manager of Wings Etc. at Benton Harbor, "We love your family and would love to host a signing here."

"We have a special gift for Hannah," Darla sat across from me today outlining plans for the book signing. I actually know what the "special" is but because I have a 12 year old who loves to read the blog, I'm not at liberty to say - only that it's really really cool! I wanted to leap across the table and give Darla a giant hug, but I fear that social boundaries might be over-stepped. So instead, I just sat there in my high bar seat and fought back the water welling up in my eyes. It just seems overwhelming to have such a tremendous support of people that I knew, but yet don't truly know.

Then Darla hit me with another overwhelming gift, "We would like to take part of the proceeds and donate them to a charity you wold like to name." So,... to recap the past five minutes of our meeting, Wings has a special gift for Hannah AND they would like to give a part of their proceeds to a charity we name. "We would handle all the marketing for the book signing with emails and posters as well," Darla was laying out the plan and I was trying to soak in the generosity of it all.

We concluded our meeting with a hand shake - which again, I was thinking I wanted to hug this wonderful lady who just offered to do SO much. As I walked to the car, I couldn't help but smile - the kind of smile you get after just winning a state championship (you just can't help yourself because there's no removing it).

We are signing books at Wings Etc. on September 17 from 5 to 9 PM. We hope you can make it.

Circle of Faith

"You have to meet Axel," is what I was told back in June during our last visit at the Mayo Clinic.

I had heard about Axel and that he was battling rhabdomyosarcoma (rab-doe-my-O-sar-co-ma). I knew that Hannah's cancer was termed non-rhabdo, but I had to go look up what the rhabdo part actually was: A fast-growing, highly malignant tumor which accounts for over half of the soft tissue sarcomas in children. It grows in soft tissue areas of the body and tumors can appear in many locations.

After meeting Axel and his mom in the hospital that day, I instantly became connected with his story. It amazes me still that while I don't know any more about a person than the time we may spend chatting in a hospital room or hallway, you connect on a level that escapes most people,... cancer has that power to connect. You know their worries, their fears, their struggle, and their strength in faith. In reading Axel's journal (written by his mom) this morning, he is moving into a hospice care situation. The fear flairs up in me and a pit grows in my stomach,.. for a boy that I met one day has touched me without even knowing it. His mom writes: Thursday, August 20th confirmed our worst fears of a recurrence of the rhabdomyosarcoma. Do not feel that your prayers have not worked, or not been answered, for indeed they have. God has been good to us. The last year and eight months have been truly wonderful including and despite Axel's medical inconveniences. It is just now apparent to us, that Axel, as the medical miracle, is not meant to be. Please give us some space, and a tiny bit more time.

Please keep Axel, a boy you've never met, in your prayers today.

Off to The Livery

This TUESDAY,... at The Livery,... it's follow the SIGNS time. As you cross the bridge from Saint Joe and head into downtown Benton Harbor you may notice something along the lines of there being no road! Not to panic,... if you can read and drive at the same time, you've got it made. If that seems to be difficult, bring a co-pilot. Heck, bring a co-pilot anyway! I suppose since your heading to a microbrewery the correct term would be called wingman or wingwoman. Wait, that doesn't sound accurate, "Hey,... Kim! You know how when two guys are going to a bar, one is called the wingman!"

"Yeah!"
"Well, what's it called when there a two girls?" a slight pause filled the air as I contemplated repeating the question at a louder level since she was all the way across the house.

Finally, her answer returned, "I have no idea!"

So there you have it. We have no idea of the social identity of one female friend to another when attending a microbrewery / bar.

Anyway,... as I was saying - just follow the signs posted LIVERY and you will go directly to it... wingperson or not.

Reviews are Rolling In

Time Out has wrapped up it's first book signing at Mammina's at Edgewater with overwhelming support from the Mammina staff and the community.

While we haven't reached the best seller list, our first intention is to share a story that readers can draw inspiration, hope, understanding, and even some insight into the world of childhood cancer from a family's perspective.

Like the blog where readers can make a connection through comments, readers of Time Out have been posting on my Face Book and sending in emails. The response is terrific. If you have found something you enjoyed about the book or care to share your thoughts on it, please email or jot down a note on Facebook.

For now, here are what others have to say:

I received the book today and I DON'T WANT TO PUT IT DOWN!!!! It is awesome!!!!!

I think you should send it to Oprah and Ellen Degeneras !!!! I am speechless!!!

Thank you so much!

When you think of a cancer story you automatically think it's going to be sad. BUT IT'S NOT! This is great! The humor mixed in with the story is wonderful and I find myself reading it out loud to others.

What an inspiring and exciting book... full of passion for life. Thank you for sharing your story with us! God Bless.

AWESOME BOOK!!! Read it cover to cover ... Didn't even stop to feed the family!

I finished reading it - what an inspirational story. I passed it on to a friend already. Does that mean I should pay you double?






This has been such an inspirational story that I needed to share it with a family member who's going through cancer and needs to read something so uplifting.

I have been reading Time Out today but I have to stop so much cause my glasses fog up. What a touching story.

Looking for a Sign

We've been consumed with 'business' lately. It seems that once you begin selling books, you become a small business. Along with being a small business comes the responsibility of knowing what is all needed for a small business. Reminds me a bit of that economic class I took one summer in college. It was painful then as it's painful now. The only difference is, I no longer have the luxury of screwing up the books and just writing it off to a B on my report card. Okay,.. B-,.... C (there, I finally broke).

"So, did you record your mileage?" Kim had just returned from a run to Office Depot to pick up a ledger, in order to better track our incoming and outgoing money. "No," she replied, as if I were hounding her on the importance of recording mileage for the sake of tax season - and I was, just for the record.

Business aside, I've received feedback from those who have finished the book, and,... it's the purpose more than the bottom line that matters. If this book can give hope through faith to those who are in their darkest of times, then it's been worth it. It's also a reminder of true grace every time I sign a book and then pass it on to Hannah. To be able to have her name right by mine on the book is such a blessing - I don't imagine too many fathers can say that they had a chance to hold a book signing with their daughter. What a miracle, what a gift!

If you were wondering what these photos have to do with my writing for today - there's absolutely nothing. It's rare that you see one, let alone three priests walking the beach, on a hot, 90 degree day. Three guys of God, enjoying the day and taking in the wonders. It doesn't get any better.

Beach Sitting

UPS with the Arrival

"I've been practicing my signature," Hannah had been given the task of improving her signature a bit in order to prep for the up coming book signings. Up to this point, print was the top method of signing something. "Do I have to sit behind a table the entire time?" Spoken like a true teenager.

"Yes, you do," I didn't want to sugarcoat anything for her. "This book may have been written by me, but it's about your journey through treatment. People are going to want to see and speak to you more than they will me."

Pre-release books were not suppose to be arriving on our doorstep until the 7th of August. "Dave! You need to get down here!" Kim had been working outside in the yard. My first thought was that I had sprayed a precious plant with crabgrass killer - oops. As I got up to look out the up stairs window to identify my level of incompetence, I noticed a UPS truck backing into the driveway.

I made my way downstairs and heard further, "It's the BOOKS! They're HERE!" All I could think of was,... this can't be, they weren't suppose to be here for a another week,...and a day.

After off loading a number of boxes, "What's the title?" the driver inquired.

"Time Out," I told him.
"Time Out? That's it?"
"No. My mind just went blank with all these boxes sitting before me,.. hold on, I'll get the rest in a second," I glanced at Kim and gave her the 'help me' look - being high school sweethearts, she knew the look well as I used it in many classes we had together.

"A Family's Journey,.." she began the bailout.
"Oh yeah, I got it : A Family's Journey of Faith and Hope through Childhood Cancer," I turned and told the driver.

With that he had all the information he needed to look for the book release in October. But who wants to wait for October? "Have you heard of Mammina's or The Livery?" as if I need to ask a driver for UPS if he knew of business locations in our area.

"Yeah, I know where they are at," he replied.
"Well, check out the Herald Palladium. There's a story being done soon and we're having pre-release signings then," I think I gave him information overload because he was looking for the quick and easy.

"Will they be at the bookstores in town?" he posed his last question before driving on.
"Yes they will," I bid my fair well to him and off the big brown truck went.

As we stood there looking at the number of boxes that engulfed the only exit in the garage that I have for my Harley, "Well,.. let's start hauling them inside."

Bring the Support

"I had no idea how many there were," Kim had just hung up the phone from speaking with a parent who had lost her son to cancer. "It was ten months from diagnosis to the time he passed," Kim wore a look that said 'enough is enough' without saying any more to me.

"There's a lot?" I heard myself ask the question, but I guess I knew all along that there were more children in our area alone who have been diagnosed with cancer. It's a bit strange to find out there are more out there, because when you're going through it, you never hear about the others. Partly because you're so engrossed in your own crisis state, and partly because your just engrossed with the thought of 'this can't be happening'. It's that surreal state that holds you paralyzed and numb to what's around you.

"There's enough to have a support group. In fact there's more being diagnosed according to our pediatrician," her eyes glistened with that look that said 'something would happen here'. Having experienced the support of other cancer families at the Ronald McDonald House through the Brighter Tomorrows group, we were fortunate to have a connection to talk things through, vent, and cry when we needed. To hear someone express that they knew what you were going through without having to explain it,... worth a thousand words.

Hannah walked in on the conversation and Kim immediately broke with what she was telling me to inform Hannah, "We're forming a support group." It was one of those moments where you just except it. Kind of like having someone tell you that they're going to put peanut butter on your jelly sandwich - that sounds about right.

"So, where do we go from here?" I was expecting a business plan to materialize, but I got what I guess I should have planned for:

"We contact people, we open our home, and we talk,... a lot," having been through the Brighter Tomorrow's meetings, Kim had an idea of where to go (I did too for that matter). The thing the BT group has on us was two major group's support: The Mayo Clinic doctors and the Ronald McDonald House. Somehow, I think we're going to be alright because we're doing the right thing and the needed thing.

"Sounds like a good plan," I said.

If anyone knows of a family who has gone through or is going through childhood cancer,... send them our way - we're ready to heal, ready to deal, and ready to let them know, "We know what you're going through and we will be willing to help in any way."

Creating a New

Ever try to do without before?

Let me rephrase,... ever try to do without a body part before? I know a good friend of mine who often claims he's only 10% utilized, but that's for another day (perhaps another blogsite). Hannah's new and improved hand doesn't seem so 'new' or 'improved' lately.

With her latest surgery this summer to release muscle and tendons from the bone (rendering them useless), in order to straighten her wrist, she has been left with only one hand and one arm in which to function. Maybe it was just a matter of time, but Hannah finally broke down over a ketchup packet. It was a minor dilemma, but a dilemma none the less.

"I don't like to feel helpless," Hannah tried to choke back her tears.
"You're not help-less. You have plenty of help around you and you need to let us be there for you. Even for what seems to be the small stuff," Kim has a way of explaining things better than I could.
Working with one arm for a year will be a whole different journey, but Hannah knows that it's a temporary one (which is the real miracle here).

In the meantime, we have a book release to prepare for!

The actually release date will not be until October 20, 2009. The pre-release sales begin on August 15. We are currently looking at various venues in which to hold book signings and gatherings. I will post more information as the date draws near. Those living out of the area and wanting to get there hands on the book can always drop me an email and we can see about shipping one,... or a dozen out to you!

Foto Friday

Joe works at removing the cast and NOT pulling the pin out.


The pin before removal - it's actually sticking in a bone.

Dr. Shin dropped by the cast room to give some tender care to Hannah before the pin was YANKED OUT!

After Dr. Shin was done having fun with Hannah, Jim came in and did the removal. Everything went smoothly (with minor pain on my end).

Kim, our hand therapist, works with Hannah on scar massage.