Ringing Like a Bell

I, like my favorite literary icon, 'dearly love to laugh.'  In fact there's only one thing I like better --  making other people laugh. Last week I co-hosted our school's annual Relay for Life talent show. In between acts, Mr. H and I regaled the audience with embarrassing stories about falling down in public or being caught in mid - "Baby Shark" dance. I shared some of my best stories about how I don't need the subtitles on the show Moonshiners , how I got in a fight with my sister-in-law over some cole slaw, and how my dad sometimes calls me just to say, "Roll Tide!" This past week I've really seen how much joy and laughter there is at my school. I'm thankful. Victor Borge was right: laughter is the shortest distance between two people. In fact, there have been times when humor has been my saving grace in the classroom. Often when tension or conflict arises, if I can say something funny about it or change the subject entirely, the m...

If there's ever a Lifetime movie made about my life, I'm convinced it will amount to nothing more than a chubby actress bumbling through life enduring a series of clumsy, self-inflicted accidents. Scene one : she falls off her tricycle and skins her knees. Scene two : she loses her grip on the merry-go-round and is launched into a huge puddle of red mud. Scene three : an entire montage of bike wrecks. Scene four : she knocks down an entire row of tables at McDonald's. Scene five : an entire montage of horrendous athletic accidents -- tripping, bobbling the ball, getting smacked in the face... Scene six : she falls, head first, down the bleachers. Scene seven : she loses her balance and rolls down a hill on her college campus. Scene eight : she tumbles off her stool while her students are testing. Scene nine : she slips while trout fishing and nearly breaks her arm. Last night I added a new one to the list; I fell out of the church van while Christmas caroling. ...

I'm a Hallmark movie kind of girl, so of course I got emotional waiting for my brother at the airport. I stood there on the day before Thanksgiving with about fifty other people. In any other situation, it would have been awkward standing so close to complete strangers, just waiting around in public, but all of us were united in the camaraderie created by waiting for our loved ones. A flight landed just before my brother's, so people started to trickle out. I watched as people I didn't know jumped into each others' arms, and little children cheered, "Grandma!" As I stood there, a lump developed in my throat. I hadn't seen any of my family in months, so I was already excited. I also felt moved by the love I could sense in the reunions of strangers standing around me. I recently read a book called Edmund Persuader . If you're a Jane Austen fan, you should check it out. Here's a quote that came to mind while I was waiting in the airport: It ...

A few days ago, I found out that one of my close college friends unexpectedly passed away over the summer. As you can imagine, I am grieved. The more I think about it, the worse I feel. Losing him is bad enough, but not knowing about it for months makes it even worse. Thankfully, one of our  mutual friends contacted me. I find myself regretting not keeping in better touch with him for the last few years. It's not a new regret. Since I moved away from my home state, I have been troubled about the friends that have slipped off the edges of my daily life. Distance separates us, and there never seems to be enough -- enough time, energy, or opportunity -- to keep those relationships healthy.  Deep down it feels like a personal failing because I genuinely love my friends. I want to know all about them and their lives. I want them to know how important they are to me. I also don't think I'm alone in this. The globe has gotten pretty small, and we spend differ...

The kickball game was supposed to be a reward. The only problem was that the kids who were dying to play kickball were all inside doing classwork. The rest of us seventh and eighth graders, out on the P.E. field, would have been much happier with light refreshments in the library. The 'positive reinforcement' didn't seem all that positive for me. I still have nightmares about middle school P.E. class, and in my young mind the kickball game was an extension of that class. I was chubby and uncoordinated -- still am. I had always been picked last for teams; I'd been hit in the face with Frisbees, badminton rackets, dodge balls, baseballs, basketballs, and golf clubs. Sports and I still aren't friends. The only reason I haven't entirely blocked that day from my memory as a traumatic experience is that something really awesome and life-altering happened. I hit it off with my Best-Good-Friend. We were on opposing teams. If I recall correctly, she was serving as...

"Oooh, let's call your husband and tell him you're trapped inside the building," he said. Two of my colleagues and I were filing out of the Raleigh Convention Center while the fire alarm blared in the background. I shook my head, "No way, that's beyond a joke; he'd probably have a heart attack on the spot." We stood outside for a while before the building was cleared, and we could go back inside. My two teacher friends and I were at a reading conference. Most of the other teachers there were elementary school teachers, and most of them were also women. In contrast, I was walking around with two men in tow wearing a flamboyant purple shirt and pink scarf. Not to mention the fact that the three of us possess more personality than the entire cast of SNL combined. Let's just say we were easy to spot. I'd love to tell you about how the conference changed my professional life and that I learned a million new strategies for teaching reading. I g...

My husband was in no way involved in the bridal registry process when we got married. I asked him about it, but he just brushed me off with a comment like, "Just pick out what seems best." So I did. I went around with the little UPC code gun and had a good ol' time. We live in the house my husband bought years ago, before we were married. There's a guest room painted a medium blue color, and when we were dating, it stood empty. I'd decided that we would need to put a bed in there for my friends and family to use when they visited, so I set out to register for things to furnish that room. Of course I told my husband about all this; however, I don't think it really registered . *wink* I chose a bed spread with different shades of blue, horizontal stripes -- I did not see the whole thing, outside the bag. I only saw the little sample through the window of the packaging. I couldn't imagine anyone actually buying us something that expensive, so I shrugged a...

We call my sister the baby whisperer . From the time that she was big and strong enough to carry around a baby, she's been unstoppable. She loves them. They love her.  Got a fussy baby? Hand it to my sister, and she'll have him calmed down in less than five minutes. She knows how to handle teething, bathing, diaper changing, and I can't ever remember her learning how to do it. She has a gift; she intuitively knows what an infant needs. Children under the age of five are inexplicably drawn to my sister. She's in college and works at a big chain store part time. She's told me stories about toddlers making their way to her no matter where she is in the store. They talk to her, show her things, and tell her stories. As I'm sure you can imagine, she's a wonderful aunt to all our nieces and nephews. She's the first person each one joyfully seeks out upon arrival at family gatherings. She isn't a mother yet, but there's no doubt she'll be quit...

Last year I read Malcolm Gladwell's book, Outliers . In the book he uses historical anecdotes to illustrate his overarching claim: success doesn't happen the way you think. He brings out several interesting points about community, experience, and simply being at the right place at the right time. He also points out some interesting things about the link between perseverance and over all success. I won't tell you all about it because you might want to read the book. I'd recommend it; it passed my fifty page test. Linking self-control and perseverance to success isn't a new thing. In the late 1960's a psychologist named Walter Mischel performed The Marshmallow Test . His original intention was to simply study the mental processes behind delayed gratification. It wasn't until years later when the children used in the study grew up that he realized the experiment had uncovered much more. What is the experiment? Watch this: Isn't Theo adorable? Mischel...

During my sophomore year in college, I sat in an African American Literature class. It was a great class. It gave me a healthy appreciation for the Harlem Renaissance and introduced me to a lot of new friends. We had just begun discussing The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass when a classmate pointed out the tragic fact found in the first few pages, that Douglass wasn't sure when exactly his birthday was. He celebrated it on Valentine's Day, but he never knew his exact date of birth. All around the room people were saying things like, "I can't imagine not knowing my exact birthday." "That is so sad." Heads were shaking all around the room. I've never been a slave, and I'm no Frederick Douglass, but I do know what it's like to not really know your birthday. For years I celebrated it on the wrong day. As it turns out my mom was pregnant with my little sister when she filled out my kindergarten registration form. She wrote down t...

    A Christmas Story is one of those movies you just have to see. What's not to love? Turkey stealing dogs, a mouth washed out with soap, a bumbled trip to see Santa, 'You'll shoot your eye out!", a triple dog dare, a bunny suit, and a glorious Red Rider BB Gun. I was thinking about my favorite scene from the movie earlier -- the leg lamp. If' you've never seen it, Ralphie's dad wins a prize . The anticipation builds, and when the box is finally opened, inside is a horrendously ridiculous leg lamp. His dad proceeds to put the lamp on display in the family's front window much to his mother's shame. It's all very funny, but the part that cracks me up every time is what his dad says just before he opens the box, "Fra-GEE-Lay! It must be Italian!"  The word on the box is, of course, 'fragile,' a fact Ralphie's mother gently points out. I thought about A Christmas Story today because something else fragile came to m...

I have a scar on my right ear near the top. A little bit of the skin is gone, and sometimes when I'm fixing my hair, I feel it and think about how I got it. It's the result of a curling iron accident that happened years and years ago. I think we were getting ready to go to the movies; one of the only entertainment options in my rural hometown. Jess was fixing my hair, a labor of love she devoted herself to because I was hopeless at such things. We were talking away about the movie we wanted to see and when Brooke would arrive. She rolled the curling iron right on top of my ear. I could hear sizzling. I'm serious. Jess was talking, and so she didn't even notice until I finally yelled. "YOU'RE BURNING MY EAR!!" She instantly let go and panicked. Her hands were fluttering all around my head. I thought she was going to cry. I though I was going to cry. I won't lie to you -- it hurt . I wasn't really mad though. Even in that moment, I realized that...