Day 7 of 31 Days of My Single Life

It is Friday night. The weekend.

I got home, dropped off my things, loaded up the dogs, and headed to the dog park.

The sun would be setting soon.

That means a week of schooling was complete, and I wouldn't pick it up again until tomorrow at sundown.

I am not a faithful Sabbath keeper. If I was, I wouldn't have caved in and watched some Netflix this evening. But I do try to not "work," i.e. not do what, in my everyday life, I consider work.

When I was in college, I'd take the day off from homework. Now, I take the day off from lesson planning.

I still do laundry and cook and even vacume, because those aren't the labors I need a rest from.

I vacillate between Saturday and Sunday, though I prefer the seventh day because, Biblically-speaking, that's what God sanctified and blessed. I have sometimes done from midnight to midnight but now try to stick to sundown to sundown. Again, because the evening and the morning were the first day, etc.

But I think there is something rather clever in God's design of days being sundown to sundown. There is always time in a day to work. Friday until sundown and Saturday after sundown. It relieves some of the stress of taking a day off, knowing you can get more done that evening.

For me, I think it is very mentally and emotionally healthy to force myself to take a day off from thinking of school. It is permission to stop. It is an invitation to chill. It is an opportunity to enjoy.

Is it a discipline? Yes. Inconvenient? Yes.

But is our God not capable of maximizing our work time when we follow His example of rest? I must believe so.

Someday I hope to be a better Sabbath keeper and not only rest but do a better job of keeping it holy. Not because I'm part of a cult or a denomination or a movement, but because I think it honors God.

Yay for weekends!


"In returning and rest you shall be saved;
In quietness and confidence shall be your strength,"
...Therefore the LORD will wait, that He may be gracious to you;
And therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you.

Isaiah 30:15, 18

Day 6 of 31 Days of My Single Life

I've got nothing. I'm literally spiritually and mentally empty. I am holding on to the promise of tomorrow being the day that ends the week like a...well, that would take too much time and brainpower to come up with an apt simile, wouldn't it?

Tonight I searched for a poem on the Columbian Exchange. Because my kids read a poem each week for homework, and Monday is Columbus Day, and I already did the poem on Columbus last year, and we've already talked a little about the Columbian Exchange this year. You know, what the Europeans brought to America and what the Native Americans gave to Europe?
Then I decided that internet searches on the facts of the Columbian Exchange could not be trusted (like, I thought sugar was grown in Barbados--why are they saying Europeans introduced the Americas to sugar?), so I was like, hey, I was a history major, I've got history books lining my shelves (actually, I've reduced them to one shelf, double-layered), so I got out my three History of the United States books (because I rented my History of Civ book and so could not refer to that), and good ol' Paul Johnson actually helped (Paul Johnson is DA BOMB.) (Too much? I'm tired.). I even found out that the Portuguese grew sugar on Madeira before the Columbian Exchange began--at least, that's what a brief skimming seemed to convey. I obviously fail as a history major.



Bella's bed that has been taken over by
my grandma's dog Angel, and two of my history books
splayed out in research

I could truly ramble on and on, but no one wants that. In fact, what I wrote so far is probably boring in comparison with what I could write. But it is almost 10pm and I am still sitting here on my floor decked out in the yellow dress with white polkadots I wore to school, which is not exactly sleeping attire, so I better wrap this up.

Nice little bow on top . . .

Yep, nope, can't come up with anything.

G'night.

Oh, oh! I did think about writing a poem on the Columbian Exchange since the one I found online was sooooo one-sided, and an exchange, by definition, is two-sided. If I write that poem, I will be sure to post it here. With a clear date of when it was written and clarity that I am its author. Cuz I found that other poem on TWO blogs, both apparently claiming ownership. Even fuzzy citation of source would be helpful, people! :-P Those bloggers.... XD


Day 5 of 31 Days of My Single Life

my grandma and grandpa

I spent the evening on Shutterfly.

My grandma's memorial is on the 15th, and I want to make a memory book of photos with spaces for guests to comment next to photos.

I've never made a photo album online before. I really wanted to just do it by hand, manually, use adhesive and stick to paper, but I don't trust those kind of albums not to start yellowing fairly quickly.

It's overwhelming when you want to accurately represent 89 years of life into 20 pages gleaned from digital photos scattered across computers, iPads, and external hard drives, and hundreds of hard copies residing in layers reminiscent of the Grand Canyon stuffed into a Rubbermaid I retrieved out of my grandma's closet.
I can't. I don't have the time or knowledge to take 89 years of life and showcase all her friends, her trips, her youth, her later years, her brothers and sisters, all of it. It's overwhelming.
Before I left school today I put marker to whiteboard and figured out the layout of the 20 pages granted me. Tonight I started plugging in photos, trying to find ones relevant to the categories I had decided on.

A life complete. Ended. What is not condensed now into an album, memories written down, moments shared in some kind of concrete way, will be lost in another generation or two.
And so I scurry to freeze this life in some kind of time capsule for the great-great grandson who was born exactly a week before she died. For his children, for my children, for my children's children. Who was this woman?

Our lives are fleeting, and when we die, our life lingers for awhile in oral reminisces and photographic snapshots, and then, like smoke, the wind whispers, and we are a thing of the past, one layer of the foundation upon which the next generations stand.

I was talking to a co-worker yesterday. Her grandpa died before she was born. But she can see his impact upon her dad, and, by influence, on her. She is who she is because of who her grandpa was.

The memory of us may one day be forgotten. But the reason why history is important--what I am trying to teach my 6th graders who are tempted to view history as a meaningless study of dead people--is that we would not be who we are without those who have gone before.



My grandma,
great-uncle, and great-aunt



Day 4 of 31 Days of My Single Life

"Then Chattanooga Choo Choo, won't you choo choo us home!" I belted out from my place at the piano, banging out chords as I completely forgot about the poor computer class on the other side of the wall.

I teach at a small Christian school, which means I get many opportunities to teach more than my grades. This quarter I'm in charge of preparing the elementary students for the Performing Arts Celebration later this month. In keeping with the '40s/50s theme set out by the Fine Arts Director, I've been teaching them the song Chattanooga Choo Choo.

That was quite an ambitious song to choose.

But I love big band music!

Last week after a dismal practice of the aforementioned song, I pulled up piano music and guitar chords on my little phone, sat down at the piano with my copy of the lyrics, and figured out how we were going to do this! Because the instrumental version I had bought on iTunes is too raucous, too fast, and too low in key.

Today was our first try of me leading at the piano as the kids behind me took turns saying their lines.

"Sarah! 'You leave the Pennsylvania Station 'bout a quarter to four.'

"Mary! 'Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore.'

"Ready, Karen? 'Dinner in the diner--'

"Ellie . . . 'Nothing could be finer'

"Girls! *slowly* 'Than to have your ham 'n' eggs in Carolina.'"

Whew! I think we can, I think we can...

Did I mention I love big band music?

Nice little bow to wrap this up: MY plans were to be a SAHM, not to have a career in teaching. And who knows, maybe next year my life will be completely redirected. But for this season I feel daily blessed that I have a job where I get to have "my" kids and teach them and share God's Word with them and feel fulfilled and basically receive many of the benefits of being a homeschool mom while still a single.

"He grants the barren woman a home,

Like a joyful mother of children.

Praise the LORD!"

Psalm 113:9

Day 3 of 31 Days of My Single Life

Exercise. I have always had an emotional allergy to that word. Any subtle maneuver of encouragement in that direction was met with either defensiveness tinged with a twang of whine or a slow descent into melancholic depression and begging-for-consolation tears.

It's not that I object to physical exertion. I love English country dancing (ECD). I love long walks (12 miles from MIT to Harvard and back to the North End in Boston while wearing foamy flip-flops this summer stretched that love). I even have enjoyed the occasional volleyball game (as long as other people will dive for my ball if I miss).

But formal exercise?

Well, I did go through several months where I faithfully went to Curves. So I think I should get bonus points for that. I mean, at least it was something.

Then almost four years ago I went to Oregon for my childhood friend's wedding and woke up one morning to a horrible backache. And like the marriage vows I subsequently witnessed, back problems have stuck with me for better or for worse.

The doctor gave me back exercises. Which I did mediocrely faithfully. She also suggested exercise to lower my cholesterol. Doesn't everyone have high cholesterol?

But it wasn't til Jazzercise became all the rage at my church (that might be a slight exaggeration, but it does seem like a lot of people go and/or teach classes), and one of the older ladies that I mentioned yesterday offered my friend and I a 12 sessions for $20 sale that I finally found my niche. *knock on wood*

My friend and I attended together for a month and then extended it for 6 months. We went together for 6 months, and I just re-upped for a year. My goal has been 3x a week--what we tried doing for those 6 months--but with the craziness of back-to-school life, I'm satisfying myself with once a week.

Guys, I actually exercise once a week, regularly!

Do tell me that's better than nothing. I think so.

It's REALLY GOOD. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Jazzercise is a combination of aerobic dance moves and weight-lifting to contemporary (read: "not-so-good") music.

I stuck it out those first 6 months for pretty much one reason: to become more active and in better shape for my future husband. True story. It really was a good motivator.

To become healthier in general. Not to lose weight, because when it doesn't happen immediately I get emotionally overwhelmed, depressed, and give up (or turn to frozen yogurt for consolation).

Now what compels me is this back of mine. Chiropractor visits and Jazzercise pain (because good exercise = pain) is what I've found that keeps me from needing Advil every night or waking up after 4 hours of sleep with horrific pain. (I've actually always been fine during the day; it's only at night that I've ever had these back issues.)

Nice little bow to wrap this up: I marvel that God can use something like chronic back pain to propel me to do what I've always wanted to do, needed to do, but never had the willpower to do. I don't exercise because I want to. I exercise because I have to. I'm so glad God can redeem circumstances so beautifully.

Secret? I actually like Jazzercising.

*gasp*

Day 2 of 31 Days of My Single Life

I kinda want to tell you about my binging on Trader Joe's Pumpkin and Cranberry Crisps dipped in Pumpkin Cream Cheese Spread. Because it's either a very girly thing to do, or a very single girl thing to do, or just a really unwise thing to do, not sure. But I'm going to choose something else that didn't leave my stomach feeling like it had snacked itself into oblivion.

Today after church my friend (coincidentally, the same one I went to WalMart with) and I were heading out to Panera for an afternoon of lunch and working over our computer screens, when a mutual older friend stopped us and invited us to join her and a few other ladies at El Pollo Loco.

Now this specific grouping of older ladies I consider as THE group of quality women. Two are school teachers, one taught my nieces and nephews and let me volunteer in her class when I was a teenager, and one was a homeschool parent when I was being homeschooled. They all love Jesus, speak common sense, and, at least three of them, have cared about me enough in the past to be my go-to women for big prayer requests.

I am so blessed!

I am so blessed that in a church where I have made few friends and where I often feel like the odd man out (insecure much?), I have four women who I know care for me outside of the church walls, and although we may not talk to each other on a regular basis, I know they are available, and I trust them with my prayer requests. It was one of them (or a couple of them?) that told me before that they had been praying for me that God would bring me a husband. Talk about blow me away!

To go to Panera for a bowl of soup or head to El Pollo Loco to meet with these quality women whom we rarely get to fellowship with all in one place?

I had a chicken fajita burrito with chips and salsa.

Nice little bow to wrap this up: Older women are the best, for both married and single young women.

Ribbon attached to bow: Each of these women are unique. One is tomboy-ish and brusque. One pro-actively seeks me out, but is not into drama. One shares openly and without reserve. One smiles while she tells true shocking stories. Sometimes I feel like I need to adjust myself to better fit in with someone I'm hanging out with. But I remember how different each of these ladies are and . . . It's not one type of person that makes a difference or an impact or a good friend; it's all types.

"[T]he older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things--that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed." (Titus 2:3-5)

Day 1 of 31 Days of My Single Life

Have I mentioned my town has a new WalMart? Of course I haven't. But we do--a new super gigantic super center. Where the hand soap is no longer in that corner and I would never be able to find the Carmex if I hadn't asked.

So today I joined another single friend on a voyage into the new WalMart (she is more of a veteran than me).

For my dad I hefted a case of caffeine-free Pepsi (which was hard to find!) down the aisle to our shared cart. I spent 3 minutes on the phone telling my mom her options for eggs: organic cage-free (in two brands) cage-free range pastured, cage-free vegetarian fed, and just cage-free (she picked the cheaper of the two organics). I picked up a bag of BBQ potato chips for my dad. I searched for lavender-scented Lysol for my mom. I chose a Godiva dark chocolate and almond bar for myself, along with an individual rectangle of Tillamook cheese that reminded me of the Snack Shop at college back in the day.

We checked out, loaded up, parted ways.

I came home to our happy dogs and my mom busily studying and writing for tomorrow's Rosh Hashanah celebration.

Nice little bow to wrap this up: I am thankful for my home and the opportunities I get to be domestic and contribute to family life, even as a single.

Keep reading:
Day 2 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 3 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 4 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 5 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 6 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 7 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 8 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 9 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 10 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 11 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 12 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 13 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 14 of 31 Days of My Single Life
Day 15 of 31 Days of My Single Life
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Day 19 of 31 Days of My Single Life