Lyssie and Tex and Caves and French Toast

I woke up at 5am this morning to see Alyssa and Tex off. Roomie always gets up at this time (and when we looked out the window, Neighbors were up, as usual, too). I never knew how happening this time of the morning could be, and I am contemplating doing it again sometime.

Roomie, Tucker, and I will miss their quips, their insights, their humor, and their dog treats.

Soon after they left, I went to Evergreen Community Charter School to take a fourth grade class on a caving exploration trip in Tennessee. Details about this trip and yesterday's adventure will follow in a later post...

From there, we zoomed over to another school to run a TAASC meeting. The kids made French Toast (or as called in certain circles, "Freedom Toast;" does anyone say "freedom" fries, toast, kiss, braid anymore?). While some of their creations looked mutilated, the TAASC students seemed to enjoy the cinnamonny delight. As an extra touch, Greg and I added a swiggle of maple syrup on their individual pieces of toast, which they brought to us in their hands.

While that last sentence wasn't super clear, I would like to make one point and one tangent stemming from it:

1. A swiggle is a technical term for just a smigen. To all of our parents: I have no idea why your children were hyper when they got home. To the parent who is a pediatric dentist: we brushed our teeth immediately after licking the syrup off of our sticky fingers.

2. This french toast was easily handled in their hands, but I'll never forget a student who lost her bowl on a longer TAASC trip and wanted us to serve steamy mac and cheese in her hands. She stood on line with her cupped hands extended. When we gave her a cooking pot to use as a bowl, she still protested, "It's fine... I don't need it... just serve the mac n'cheese in my palms."

From there:
* home for a run with Tucker to lose the restaurant/dog treat pudge;
* a walk with Roomie to scope out the neighbors;
* a drink with a lovely lady (and then a lovely gentleman, too) to debrief the week;
* an email check to see that no one loves me;
* a blog comment check to feel just a smigen
(swiggle would not work in this case, by the way) better;
* a time sitting and staring at the screen to think of a response
or a comment to add to others' blogs;
* a time sitting and staring at the comments that others posted
on my blog to try to think of a response to their responses;
* some more time staring as one gets super sleepy.

Then, I began this blog entry, just for Rebekka (who can pay me back with free science-like advice when she finishes her dissertation and has a dr. in front of her name) and I stared at the screen some more.

I didn't come up with a comment for tinytim or stupidmommy or even a response to a comment on this blog.

Nothing. Staring.



OH! Here's one: Deb commented about thinking 12:52 referenced a Biblical passage. It doesn't in this instance, but when I googled 12:52, the first website was about a restaurant in Germany, I think (ah, the power of deduction and photographs).

The second one was about Luke 12:52; I skipped the 'merican Bible interpretation and went straight to the King James, you know, so as not to die...

The third entry was about Isaiah 51 and looked like this:
א שִׁמְעוּ אֵלַי רֹדְפֵי צֶדֶק, מְבַקְשֵׁי יְהוָה; הַבִּיטוּ אֶל-צוּר חֻצַּבְתֶּם, וְאֶל-מַקֶּבֶת בּוֹר נֻקַּרְתֶּם.

Okay. That's the best I could do for now. I'm falling asleep.