Reflectous Interruptous

First Trimester down and strapping on the helmet doesn't come close to what sums it up. Do I love the transition from teacher to administration? Absolutely! Do I love the pety issues that enter my office on a daily basis? The responsible answer to that would be, 'there are no pety issues.' The actual answer would be, 'we create problems for the sake of the existence of problems.'

One of the issues that looms when any new person steps in to the position of authority... trust. If I had to define where my staff stood after a trimester of working with me, it would have to be 'waiting to exhale'. While they see that I'm a principal who understands the teacher point of view (after spending 17 years in the classroom), they have experienced a former principal with an administrator point of view (who had 3 years of classroom experience) and they keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. One teacher summed it up for me in a conversation: "We like what you stand for and how you work with us, but we keep waiting to be stabbed in the back." So there's some work to be done. Trust is an issue of time,... or staff parties. Perhaps both.

"I heard that you're trying to cancel Halloween," came a comment from a parent in the community.
"What?" I couldn't believe that I had such power.
Having made some simple changes to the day to day operations of the school, one of them came with the way the parade for our Halloween celebration took place. My design needs some work because I failed to anticipate parents standing in the middle of the hall to snap pictures, instead of going to the gymnasium where ALL parents could take pictures. The hallway debacle led to a mish mash of confusion and came close to requiring the assistance of an NBTS (National Bureau of Transportation) agent to assess the flow of traffic. In the end though, every child had a chance to parade in front of their peers and eat an absurd amount of chocolate. How this turned into my cancellation of Halloween I have no idea, but if the parents continue to cause traffic violations,... so let it be written, so let it be done. Maybe I should run for political office next.

"Do you miss the classroom?" many people ask me.
I have to think about it for a few seconds, but the answer is, No. I don't miss the classroom, but I do miss the direct impact on kids. I miss the interaction with the select few that were in my room. I miss the direct connection to the families. As the principal, I get to know many more, but it's not on that deep level - at least not yet. After all, it's only been a few months.

What Comes Around

Trying to decide how to spend the remaining days of summer can be exhausting. When should I start the changing of the internal clock? When do I acknowledge a daily scheduled? When is it time to draft that back to school letter? When is it time to put away the T-shirts and shorts and pull out the dress slacks and shirts?

"I have this week! That's IT!" Kim announces as she slides into her morning coffee. The public school system begins back to school after Labor Day, while our private school system is on it's own to decide when it's best to hit the hallways and stuff the lockers once again. At Kim's school,... the teachers begin next Monday.

An awkwardness blankets our mornings in August as I relish the full month of freedom still to be enjoyed, while Kim begins full blown readiness. She mutters quite a bit about going back early, but deep down (usually by the bottom of her coffee cup), she is ready and excited to get started - as am I,... in another month.

There is some excitement coming in September - It's National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and Tate Publishing is kicking things off with a nationwide media blitz. More on what this will entail as information becomes known.

Short Thoughts are Simple to Process

Well,... I'm back. It took me a while to finally set down and process some thoughts since so much has been happening over the course of the past two months.

Where to begin? (Long, lingering pause while I stare out the window wondering what I'm doing sitting at a computer when summer is right outside).

I'll get back to you real soon - got to go!

Common Place Is Slowly Changing

"You know that thing you talked about the other day?" a little voice came from the seat behind me.

Our class was off on a field trip and to kill the time on our ten minute ride, I grabbed a small devotional book titled The Family's Man (for husbands and fathers). I thought a devotional would be just the ticket for a short, peaceful bus ride with the kids. I was wrong.

Putting my book down I glanced back behind me, "What thing and what day?" I was hoping to narrow it down before providing any sort of relevant response.

"The one where you talked about electric cars and how someday they would have power stations in place of gas stations," she spoke as if she were preparing to make a point.

"Yep. I remember that," I said, hoping to return to my devotional.

"Well, my dad said that you didn't know what you were talking about. And my sister had this book that's titled "What Idiots Say", or something like that. It said that electric cars would never take over and that's just what people think."

"Hmmmpp. Well I suppose everyone has an opinion on the topic," I really wanted to say more but I knew I shouldn't. Stupid job security.

"But I'm not saying you're an idiot," she shot back, probably realizing that she had indeed called me an idiot. "I'm just saying what my dad said and that it said it in a book too."

"I think I'll go back to my reading now," I needed to desperately find a little peace. The only problem was I had now spent most of my time listening to a little girl explain to me that her dad disputes the use of electric cars in the future and finds me to be an idiot for even suggesting it to my students.

Join the Fight - Day 4

There's a name tag epidemic in our country that must be addressed! You see it when you go to a convention, you see it at some church services, you see it in business, and you see it in schools - name tags that identify who you are.

Now I'm not opposed to the whole idea of taking away a formal greeting in place of slapping a sticky note to ones body or clipping of a badge. Although when som

eone's wearing a name tag you seldom stop to introduce yourself and ask who they are, because that would seem to 19th Century.

I'm opposed to placement. Case in point,... just this morning. I have my students in the library attending the Book Fair, where a number of volunteers (mainly moms) come to lend a hand. I have a brief interaction with a mom, whom I've not seen before, and I glance at her tag to catch a last name, while she's looking at two boys trying to jot down the name o

f a book.

I'm thinking that perhaps if I can get her last name I may know her

ch

ild(ren). As I glance back to her face, I notice this look of disgust (because her attention is no longer on the boys),... she "apparently" feels that I was staring at an inappropriate area. Hello! If you would slap the sticker on a different body part then perhaps neither of us would have this uncomfortable moment!

I'm starting my own personal crusade that will last for the remainder of the year, ...month, ....week, ...day, ... in the moment, or until a lawsuit is filed. This name tag placement has

gotten out of control and I intend to bring it to the front of societal concerns. I'm thinking there's global warming and name tag placement, ... what Summit do I attend?

I need to rethink my photo and throw in a butt-double. No comments needed.

Day 2 and going strong! Dreams ALIVE PEOPLE! Dreams ALIVE!

Day 3 and

you can sense a movement afoot!

It's Day 4 already and the exhaustion is setting in,... not to mention the obliques are beginning to feel the burn every time I have to twist around to grab my key for something. Don't know how much longer I'll be able to sustain such a grueling pace for societal norming.

Foto Friday

Whoodle Pose and Profile

The 21st Century Classroom.

This is the title given to our classrooms in district that have a smartboard, sound system, and various other little technology gadgets. I thought I had a 21st Century room by simply being a teacher in the 21st Century, but I must be wrong. So then the question becomes,... what century

classroom do I have?

Could it be the 19th Century? If so, then that would be me up front next to my student who appears to presenting his/her career project using power point and an inkwell.

Could it be that I'm teaching in an early 20th Century room? If so, that would mean that these two girls are in my class and we've apparently formed some club that dabbles in iron works.

Perhaps I'm mid-20th Century,... a time when school was more civil, more disciplined, more school-like. I remember being taught how to sit with my hands folded,...

while wearing a suit coat and tie.

But this is not the classroom I have either! Today's class is all about movement within the room, comfortable clothing, and not having homework because it interferes with the after school travel sports schedule.

I'm getting the feeling that my issue isn't with being in the 21st Century in the United States,... after viewing a 21st Century classroom in the UK,

I think I need to rethink my century curiosity and go with location, location, location.

Let Them Be Free!

The Squeaker.

The FlaBurtz.

The Waaf.

The Puffer. The Fluffer. The Ole Gezzer Duffer.

The Bllllzzzzzztt.

The Tweeter.

The Squirtity Squeeter.

No matter the word, it all comes down to the same thing. A loud, unavoidable release of gas in the class. The kind of gas passing that would register on any given Richter Scale as a damaging menace to society. . . One gas passing that a bar full of truckers and bikers would be proud to call their own. The only problem was, we weren't in a bar and there were no truck drivers or bikers to be had (self excluded). We were in whole class reading. A typically quiet venue.

The natural order of things can go in two directions:

1.) You can ignore it, talk quickly and loudly hoping that no one raises their hand with the typical, "Did you hear that mini nuclear explosion? I think the fall out has swiped the hair clean from my arms!"

or

2.) You can acknowledge the little thunder rumple for the mover and shaker they are, dismiss them to take care of any unfinished business, and adjust the classroom back to some form of civility as you grasp the nearest industrial air-spray sanitizer around.

Another day in the life of a teacher.

The Missing Test

It's business as usual for a Friday in class with my students. Friday is usually assessment day.

"Is there anyone still working on their math test?" I have the students turn in their papers as they finish, rather than collecting them all at once. The good thing is I get a jump on correcting their papers, which usually allows me to return them before they leave for home. The bad thing is I have to keep track of who's still working and who's getting a bit edgy and ready to do something else.

No one responded to my questioning. This only means I need to say it again, in a different way, "Do I have everyone's paper?" I asserted my slower, louder voice in order to be understood clearly by the average 4th grade child.

The room begins to so signs of intelligent life as they become human bobble-heads one by one. At first glance you would have thought that each and every student was completed, but it's the silent stare that you have to have a keen eye out for,... and there it was. From a boy across the room,... a blank stare of confusion. As I locked in on him, I also took note that his desk was swiped clean of all papers.

"Did you turn in your paper?" I tried to coax an answer from him. His head gave a slight bob. "Did you just say yes?" I questioned further. His head gave a slight twist, side to side. "No?" I continued the dance as if it were leading somewhere. His head remained motionless this go 'round. What does that mean? Now he's not even giving me the non-verbals. Just the stare.

I decided years ago that when given the chance to stare, one should take it. And so it was on! The room was dead silent as I looked at him, him at me,... neither one of us knowing what good any of this would do. Finally the silence was broken with a tiny snickering voice, "Stop the madness!" came the plea.

"If you were your test, where would you be right now," I quietly probed him for one more response that I knew couldn't be answered with a 'yes' or 'no' bob of the head. I did realize that he could always resort to one of my favorite gestures, the shoulder shrug.

"It's in my desk," he answered as he opened up his desk and removed it from between two text books. "It's not done though."

I know, I know. How could a student take a test and then just put it in his desk and not finish it? Good question. It's also a question that they never answered when I was going through all of my teacher classes. They never teach you the crucial things such as, what do you do when one student throws up in class and starts a chain reaction? I don't think they want the new teachers to know about such things happening. This is where my years of experience pays off.

"Well, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you finish it and turn it in to me," I threw out a strong suggestion. "The rest of the class will move forward with Friday."

Resolve to....

Blood work ... back in the day that meant we were building a higher ramp to jump our bikes off of,... today (at middle age) it just means that your doctor is going to have hurtful things to say about your eating habits.

Lucky me, I had mine done right before the turn of the calendar and just in time to make a NEW New Years Resolution. Over the past decade I have pretty much given up on the tradition of making and then breaking of a resolution. I just resolved myself to the fact that I had little will-power to carry out whatever I had set before me as a personal challenge. Some years the resolution lasted for months, other years,.... days,... and yes, there were those years,... just to the end of my fleeting thought of a resolution.

I found that if I didn't resolve to make myself a better person and it just happened, then bonus for me and society. However, once the pledge was out there for just one other person to hear, the resolution became a one way street to disappointment. I was doomed - DOOMED!!

They say you should tell other people what you have chosen to change about yourself in order to gain support and help you to succeed. I say this works if the other person is a complete stranger who could care less - point in case,... a toll booth operator. These people are to resolution makers, what drive through windows have become for fast food - like 'fast food' confessional booth, you just roll on up, pay your tool, and,.. "I resolved to cut down on speeding through the I-Pass lanes to see if they'll actually send me a ticket!!" The professional toll-booth operator won't even flinch an eyelash as they change the red traffic signal to green and give you the go ahead on the rest of your day, the rest of your life. They won't even bring up the topic with you again. There's no judgment, no disappointment if you happen to slip, no expectations what so ever.

Now tell this same thing to a close friend and you've just bought yourself the monthly conversation of, "Well, how's the I-Pass resolution going? Oh,... that's a shame,... I thought this was the one resolution you could actually attain in your life. Especially when you consider the lack of actual time you spend on the tollways."

Now I realize by putting out there the fact that I had blood work leads some to guess what I might be resolving to do this year, but the facts are these: We are four days into the twenty-ten year and the results of my resolve can't be seen yet. Check back with me in another 185 days. That will give me time to think of reasons as to my short coming and may even lead to your new position as a toll-booth operator,... just hitting the button and giving me the green light go-a-head.

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.