Ranger and I see eye-to-eye on the ideal conditions for our daily walk.
A cool fifty-five degrees with a light mist falling.
Not only do we feel invigorated and refreshed in the brisk air, but the rain keeps most everyone else inside.
We love having the streets to ourselves.
And though Ranger and I definitely enjoy our outing in very different ways, we can both agree that today's walk was perfect.
Last week, I bought a set of coasters for my family room.
They were nice coasters. From the moment I saw them, I loved their
round shapes
wooden tones
and dip-dyed shades of turquoise and coral.
For a reasonable price, I snapped them up, brought them home, spread them around my coffee table, and felt perfect peace.
Oh, what's that you say? You don't see any shades of blue or red in these photos?
Yes. That's because I have a serious masalah with leaving well enough alone.
Somewhere along the recent way, I've tossed my lifelong obsession with bold color aside and decided that shades of black, white and grey are my new thing.
And within just a few hours of bringing these unsuspecting angels into my home and momentarily enjoying their bright coastal hues, I couldn't handle myself anymore.
Craving some delicious Scandinavian black and white minimalism, I dragged these innocent discs out into my rainy backyard where I attacked them with masking tape, various cans of paint and a passion for reforming them in my new image.
Now we are all living together in monochromatic heaven and I couldn't be any happier.
At least for now.
Acacia wood coasters sasaran
side table target
jade plant
* * * * *
Today I found in one of my feeds this beautiful image and thoughtful message.
Though I would have found them meaningful under any circumstances, I was especially touched when I saw that they were posted by my former student, Tori.
I've known Tori since she was a sweet little ninth-grader, just back in the United States after living abroad with her family for five years, and definitely acclimating to the American high school culture.
Soon she became my student and we studied algebra together for several years. Because of the unique path I walk with homeschooled students, our connection has grown and deepened over the years. I've continued to work with her younger siblings as she headed off to college; we keep up with one another's news and see each other from time to time. From my special vantage point, I've enjoyed the privilege of watching her grow into her life as a sensitive, responsible, interesting young adult.
So thank you, Tori, for reminding me of the gifts of our planet on this Earth Day. And thank you too, for reminding me of how lucky I am to share life with all my wonderful students, including you!
* * * * *
Read more stories about my life as a math teacher:
Social Distancing
Playing With A Full Deck
The (Math) Joke's On Me
Sharing Life
Little Brothers
Sweet Inspiration
My Hero
What I Do
Number 15
Christmas Edition
tiga.1415926
Buy It And Burn It
In Honor Of James K. Polk
House Tours
My Deep Gladness
Isolating The Radical
By The Numbers
Teaching My Own: High School Art And Algebra
Did I predict that there would be some new holes forthcoming in my walls?
Yes, I did.
Allow me to make good on my promise.
^ Holes be damned; there's a hockey game that needs watching and this guy
will not be deterred from his goal.
^ Those two black pipes lead down from the shower drain, and were centered at the worst of the leak. I don't need the Property Brothers to tell me what that means.
Pretty, right? This is the situation in my family room, where moisture had compromised the wall board and insulation.
I discovered this mess when - in preparation for painting - I took down some art and saw a strangely saggy spot on the wall. Using just a few fingers, I pressed lightly on the wall board which gave way under my fingertips like wet tissue paper.
Oops.
Immediately, I diagnosed the underlying problem. The shower stall, directly above this spot, was constructed way back when the builders roughed it in with regular sheet rock rather than waterproof backer board. The whole neighborhood suffered this same plight, and our showers have all gone down like a row of moldy dominoes.
^ Here's the guilty party, stripped down in shame.
^The toilet area is just an innocent bystander but he's been drawn into the fracas.
Obviously, we still have some work to do to put these holes right again.
But in classic glass-half-full style, I am rejoicing that my moisture problems have been properly mitigated. All surfaces are dry and antimicrobial-ed; both rooms smell like clean-chemical heaven. We're ready for the construction guys to come in and build us something beautiful.
And then my glass will be overflowing indeed.
My husband is a pretty practical guy.
Not the type to covet luxury items, his birthday wish lists usually lead off with Cabella jeans and plaid flannel shirts, followed by options for Starbucks gift cards and dark chocolate candy bars.
But this year, two weeks before his big day, my frugal spouse told me he wanted a $270 chess set.
It's historic, he explained. The pieces are modeled after the very first chess set and constructed from a valuable resin from some weird place. Honestly, I don't remember much of what he said because my brain was experiencing a full-on state of shock:
Is. He. Even. Kidding. Me.
Precious days ticked by as I contemplated this uncharacteristic idea. Oh, the money wasn't my main concern. Dropping a few hundred bucks for a gift is definitely far beyond our normal birthday budget, but for a special request, we could manage the indulgence.
What I genuinely and sincerely questioned was how my budget-balancing finance director of a partner would embrace this whim once he saw the outflow of cash in his bank transactions.
He'll change his mind, I hypothesized. This is a passing fancy, and by the time his birthday rolls around, he'll forget all about this swanky Historic Chess Set and opt for an L.L. Bean online shopping spree instead.
Well. I was dead wrong.
* * * * *
On Monday afternoon, thirty-six hours before the Big Day, I checked in again. So what are you thinking about your gift? I casually probed.
"I sent you the link for the chess set two weeks ago," he stated.
Okay, I continued. So you're sure you still want that?
"I wouldn't have sent you the link if I wasn't sure."
Alright. Point taken, Mr. Nothing-but-the-Facts.
Fifteen minutes later, Amazon was processing the order and my fate had been cast.
* * * * *
But now I faced the classic post-terbaru gift-giving dilemma: While the ordered-online-at-the-last-minute item is still in transit, what will the recipient unwrap on his actual birthday?
I'm a stickler for a timely birthday ceremony and it's essential to me and my nurturing instincts that family celebrations include an actual, physical gift to be unwrapped. Now, we're all adults these days, and have developed sufficient self-control for second-day shipping, but in my view of the universe, there simply MUST be some representation of the gift on the dinner table for the birthday boy [or girl] to unwrap.
I pondered this duduk perkara deeply, and while driving home from a student's house on the afternoon of my husband's birthday, the solution came to me in a vision.
A photograph of a pink prawn against a white background, cut to a three-inch square.
Effortlessly, the whole plan of what I would do fell right into place.
First, I declared, you must arrange the envelopes to spell out a secret message.
Luckily, my husband always carries a Swiss Army Knife in his pocket for moments such as these. You never know when you might need to slash through some washi tape, darn it. Better safe than sorry.
Folding his jackknife and tucking it back into his pocket as he scowled at the cards, the birthday boy muttered to himself for a few seconds until suddenly he smiled, and we all literally HEARD the light bulb click on in his head. With a few deft maneuverings, he positioned the cards just so.
Billie Jean KING
Freddie Mercury from QUEEN
Joey BISHOP
Bobby KNIGHT
Nathan Fillion from CASTLE
and eight perfect pink P(r)AWNS
The master strategist understood the need to place these unconventional game pieces in their proper location, as if readying them for a round of chess.
Now flip over the cards in their current positions and a new message will reveal your gift.
^ Ta daaa! We bought you that chess set!
At this point in the treasure hunt, my husband was not particularly shocked by my final message. But as he pointed out, he does enjoy solving puzzles and did not mind working so hard to reveal the truth about his mysterious birthday surprise.
In the end, I think it was exactly what he would have wanted.
Oh sure, he made it clear that he didn't want a memorial service. Anyone who knew him for more than five minutes could have called that. He was always one to lay aside any direct praise or recognition, preferring to let his jokes and quick wit direct attention back to either his students or his subject matter.
But all of us whose lives were touched, enriched and beautifully transformed by this man needed a way to come together and talk about his life, so that is what we did.
Photo credit: Heidi Conahan
Here at Edmonds Beach, on the shore of his beloved Puget Sound, is where the friends of Brian Raven gathered yesterday to mark his passing and to honor his life. By any accounting, he was a complex man, and the stories we told one another barely began to capture the outlandish dimensions of his personality and skill set.
Yes, Brian was an amazing teacher. After all, that's how most of us came to know him - for the last couple decades, Brian has wandered Snohomish County, teaching science classes for homeschooled kids of all ages. Many of his students, like my daughters, studied with him for all their schooling years and loved him like a favorite uncle.
But Brian was also an education rebel who steadfastly refused to fit into the traditional straight-jacket of typical K-12 teachers. Now, make no mistake, Brian was a gifted and effective teacher. His classroom style was effortlessly fluid and adaptable, he could manage a room full of high-spirited boys like a seasoned cowboy roping a day-old calf, and he had a special knack for making each student feel included and important. Though the idea was often suggested or even pressed, Brian balked at the notion of getting proper teaching credentials; he stuck to the principle that science is best taught by scientists rather than professional educators, and in doing so, won the devotion and admiration of countless like-minded homeschooling parents.
Photo credit: Heidi Conahan
Brian was a passionate scientist. His infectious enthusiasm for the natural world lit us all on fire, and his curiosity for exploring that world through boating, whale watching, hiking, kayaking, scuba diving and photographing it all brought us into his fascinating universe. In his classes and frequent field trips, Brian never went soft on content; he held his students to high standards and delivered sophisticated scientific concepts and precise vocabulary to his kids right from the start.
And to his students' infinite delight, Brian was a jokester extraordinaire. His quick wit and lightning-fast mind produced a never-ending flow of puns and word play; he invented wildly creative nicknames for his students and peppered his lessons with so much lively banter that his students learned effortlessly. Brian's wacky sense of humor made the leap to the world outside the classroom; his students all got used to hearing their pet nicknames and favorite punch lines booming down the hallways and echoing through the courtyards as Brian encountered them around school.
Photo credit: Emma Streicher
These thoughts filled my mind as I stood on the beach yesterday, acutely aware of the natural beauty around me, this affectionate gathering, and this larger-than-life man that we all admired and loved. Sharing an open mic, we poured out our favorite memories of Brian and spoke of the gifts he has given us for a lifetime. I thought and thought and thought of what I might say, but in the end, I decided to tell my favorite story of Brian here, where I can treasure it forever.
* * * * *
Brian could go toe-to-toe with the sassiest, naughtiest, attention-seeking students on the planet, but he could also be incredibly sensitive and sweet with his more tender-hearted students. My daughters treasured this side of his personality, and felt safe in knowing that Brian would never embarrass them or take his teasing too far.
One day, as I sat in the back of his classroom, as mothers often did, soaking up the scientific goodness and laughing along with the usual barrage of snot jokes, I witnessed a remarkable example of Brian's gentle soul.
Twelve-year-old Harry was frustrated. Following along as Brian showed the class how to cut shapes from construction paper to make a contoh of the ear, Harry was intensely focused on getting the pieces to fit together just right. But Harry's handiwork was not meeting his own exacting standards, and his Asperger's condition set in motion an instantaneous red-hot meltdown.
Undoubtedly, Brian saw this coming, as he had known Harry and his volatile moods for many years. Brian's reaction was immediate and intuitive. Calming his classroom voice from a 10 to a 2 and bringing all his concentration to the crisis at hand, Brian encouraged Harry to make peace with his creation. "Yours is really good. See how it curves just like mine? You did a great job."
Poor Harry was not impressed. He pointed out flaws in his work, and flailed despondently in his seat.
"If you want, you can try again, There's plenty of paper," Brian suggested gently.
Harry sulked. Tears began to flow.
The rest of the students were happily trimming out hammers, anvils and stirrups while Brian continued to focus completely on poor, sobbing Harry. "Hey, buddy. I have an idea. Do you want to use mine?"
His head suddenly lifted off the now-soggy desk. The storm clouds parted, and Harry's face beamed through the tracks of his tears. "Can I??"
"Here you go," Brian handed over his creation. Harry joyfully set about pasting it to his paper as Brian quickly snipped out a replacement, and returned to his broadcast about the workings of the inner ear, punctuated as always with jokes and puns galore.
* * * * *
Photo credit: Jennifer Thames
Photo credit: Jennifer Thames
This is who Brian Raven was:
a teacher,
a rebel,
a scientist,
a jokester and
a deeply sensitive, compassionate man.
This is why we gathered on a wide beach under a clear blue sky to celebrate his life.
And in the end, I think it was exactly what Brian would have wanted us to do.
This story has been sitting in my draft folder for almost a year. Half-written and passed over for a condensed version of this adventure, this timeline caught my eye tonight. I'm engrossed in preparations for my third annual trip to Danang, and at two weeks before my go-day, feeling a bit stressed about what I might be forgetting. Memories of this sunrise slow me down and remind me that, one way or another, I'll make it to the other side of the planet and everything really will be okay.
* * * * *
4:00 am First alarm went off. Groaned.
4:10 am. Second and final alarm sounded. Groaned again. Got up and pulled myself together.
4:30 am. Met up with my posse, helmets on and ready to ride. Our bikes purred through the freakishly quiet streets of Danang under dark night skies.
4:40 am. We turned west and then north, crossing the Han River, passing through the still-sleeping town of Son Tra, and edging along the perimeter of the mountainous peninsula north of the city.
4:50 am. Passed an assortment of joggers, cyclists, and walkers who were taking their morning exercise. The first hints of daylight were gathering in the eastern skies.
Lima:00 am. Pulled off the road at an ideal viewpoint. While we hadn't reached the easternmost point on the peninsula, we had a fantastic watery view of the predawn skies.
5:05 am. Clouds gathered and threatened to diminish our view. Distracted myself by taking a few shots of predawn fishing boats.
5:10 am. Still waiting. Took photos of flowers.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the sun burst through the hazy clouds on the horizon and flooded the day with light. And in that instant, a quiet morning in Danang came alive.
This piece of art has been teaching me a lesson.
Inspired by a graphic print named Big Pieces and created by Little Studio Design, I decided to tweak the original to improvise my own version.
Which I did. The finished product is now hanging on the wall of my home office, just behind my left shoulder as I write these words. Family and friends have given my handiwork the thumbs up and you'd think I would have moved on to the Happily Ever After phase of our life together.
But those bright triangles speak to me, humble me, knock me down to size whenever I walk past.
Here's why.
See, I made this piece by cutting triangles from paint chips. Making precise measurements and using my paper cutter with extreme care, I did everything in my power to create triangles that were exactly the same size, and would therefore fit together perfectly in the composition.
Perfect.
Exact.
Precise.
I was not interested in "close enough."
And though I brought all my mathematical skills OCD tendencies to bear on this puzzle, I did not succeed in creating perfection. There are, in several places, tiny white gaps between the triangles. And where the tips of several triangles meet, they are, in several places, slightly misaligned.
Oy vey.
As I discovered this ugly truth, my daughters consoled me. "Pish," they said comfortingly, "That's nothing...We barely notice those tiny imperfections."
But I noticed them. And I stewed over them.
I peeled some of the triangles off and reglued them.
I recut several triangles to make them fit more exactly.
I considered starting over.
I thought about throwing the whole thing out.
But a little voice from the triangles - a voice much wiser than the crazy voices inside my head - said, Stop. Let it be.
And I realized that this creation had become a poignant metaphor for one of my most persistent faults.
Perfectionism.
If life is a colorful mosaic of hand-cut triangles - and I'm willing to entertain that notion - then a few tiny white gaps between the pieces are to be expected. Compared to the bold colors, delicate symmetry and pleasing proportions of the shapes, those white slivers are nothing. In fact, one might even argue that the lines of white imperfection draw more attention to the lively triangles which they outline, adding to their rambunctious spirits.
From that observation, it's not much of a leap to see the lesson laid out before my eyes. Imperfections are not only a part of life, but they increase the delight of our days.
Okay, okay, okay. I get it. I understand. And deep down inside, I agree.
But still, every day as I walk past this piece, my eyes leap right to the gaps and I ask myself, once again, "Please can I rip off all the triangles and start over??"
No, my artwork answers me. Stop.Let it be.
Smart little triangles.
Wanna see how my shower stall turned out? Read about it here
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
So. What if we switch out the negative associations of rectangular subway tile for some basic old-school square tiles? These 6x6 classics were all the rage during my formative years, and when I think "bathroom tile," they are always the first thing to hop into my head:
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
So. What if we switch out the negative associations of rectangular subway tile for some basic old-school square tiles? These 6x6 classics were all the rage during my formative years, and when I think "bathroom tile," they are always the first thing to hop into my head:
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
So. What if we switch out the negative associations of rectangular subway tile for some basic old-school square tiles? These 6x6 classics were all the rage during my formative years, and when I think "bathroom tile," they are always the first thing to hop into my head:
Source
So. What if we switch out the negative associations of rectangular subway tile for some basic old-school square tiles? These 6x6 classics were all the rage during my formative years, and when I think "bathroom tile," they are always the first thing to hop into my head:
On Choosing Bathroom Tile?By Little Green Notebook
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
On Choosing Bathroom Tile?By Little Green Notebook
And while I'm not first and foremost a animo surfer, I do love the fact that these old timers are making a comeback. Yep, it's once again hip to be square and I wouldn't mind hopping on that train.
Postscript | A lot of things have changed in the past thirty years, and it seems that grout is near the top of the list. Derek explained that today's grout is a completely different ball game: whereas the old grout was porous, the new grout is an epoxy and almost impenetrable; the old grout stained easily but the new grout will unerringly maintain its original color; and clean-up, as they say, is a breeze. I stand majorly corrected.
Source
Hmm. Eleven hours till Beth shows up on my doorstep, and I'm no closer to making up my mind. Let's hope she can work some magic with my indecisive brain, or I may be living with the studs and holes look for a while longer.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Source
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
On Choosing Bathroom Tile?By Little Green Notebook
But black fixtures are crazy on musim and they do make me swoon.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Source
Source
Realistically, I think my budget will have the last word on this decision. So yes, I will find a way to be happy with chrome.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Hmm. Eleven hours till Beth shows up on my doorstep, and I'm no closer to making up my mind. Let's hope she can work some magic with my indecisive brain, or I may be living with the studs and holes look for a while longer.
On Choosing Bathroom Tile?By Little Green Notebook
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
11 New Trends for the Bathroom?By Apartment Therapy
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
But black fixtures are crazy on musim and they do make me swoon.
Source
Still, I think this brass is more my style.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Source
Realistically, I think my budget will have the last word on this decision. So yes, I will find a way to be happy with chrome.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Hmm. Eleven hours till Beth shows up on my doorstep, and I'm no closer to making up my mind. Let's hope she can work some magic with my indecisive brain, or I may be living with the studs and holes look for a while longer.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
I've looked at a ridiculous number of posts featuring bathrooms, from the decadent to the basic DIY, and these are my most favorite ones:
11 New Trends for the Bathroom?By Apartment Therapy
On Choosing Bathroom Tile?By Little Green Notebook
But black fixtures are crazy on trend and they do make me swoon.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Still, I think this brass is more my style.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Realistically, I think my budget will have the last word on this decision. So yes, I will find a way to be happy with chrome.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
Hmm. Eleven hours till Beth shows up on my doorstep, and I'm no closer to making up my mind. Let's hope she can work some magic with my indecisive brain, or I may be living with the studs and holes look for a while longer.
Postscript musim, the simple combo of basic subway tile outlined in almost-black can go in quite a few different directions. My favorites are the simple running bond:
I've looked at a ridiculous number of posts featuring bathrooms, from the decadent to the basic DIY, and these are my most favorite ones:
11 New Trends for the Bathroom by Apartment Therapy
On Choosing Bathroom Tile by Little Green Notebook
^ These are the plants that I bought to plant
on a sunny spring Friday at my house.
^ These are the black cats that came rushing out
to sniff at the plants that I bought to plant
on a sunny spring Friday at my house.
^ This is the tabby who made a round nest
near the black cats who came rushing
to sniff at the plants that I bought to plant
on a sunny spring Friday at my house
^ This is the red dog who snoozed in the shade,
ignoring the tabby who made a round nest
near the black cats who came rushing
to sniff at the plants that I bought to plant
on a sunny spring Friday at my house.
And we all had a splendid afternoon.
