Saturday, December 17, 2011
It made me want to write--alot--
so here is the first story.
If any of you have connections to getting this published--I would not hold you back-- ;)
The story came about because last year we went to decorate gingerbread houses at a childrens event and watching my kids pick out candies out the of the same bowl the boy with runny nose, the girl with the licked fingers, and the teenager who looked less than clean--I decided right then and there--they will NOT be eatting this. Plus, I don't know who put it together (since they were premade, except for the decorations), or where they have been stored, or how old they were....anyway
My kids were very disappointed when I told them not to eat them. They wanted to know why--what was I to say--Your mom is a germ freak--other people are gross---you will get sick?
I wanted them to have that magical happy look all kids have during the Christmas season and I didn't want to burst their bubble.
So at night I made up a story. A shorter, simpler version what you are about to read. I told my kids that in the gingerbread people need new houses and every year they go and look for houses that will work. SO if our houses are gone in the morning it means they were pretty enough to be taken to the gingerbread village and used as a house---so It needs work I know--and the title---i need a new one, but here you go!
(I would think this would work great with kids who are about 7-10?)
“That night I saw three Gingerbread Men. Well, two Gingerbread Men and one Gingerbread Boy. I didn’t even breathe in my chair as I watched them check out the houses lined up in a row on my mantle. I was afraid they would disappear if I did. I just watched in silence as they explored every nook and cranny of my Gingerbread village. If I close my eyes now, and you close yours, I will tell you about the night I met the Gingerbread Men.”
He was so excited to finally be able to tell his Granddaughters, Pepper and Sedona, the story of Gingerbread people.
“They aren’t flat like the cookies, or what we see in books. They look just like men who have been shrunk. They had clothes, but the clothes were made of different kinds of candies, and each gingerperson looked different from the other.”
“Grandpa, how do you know you weren’t sleeping?” asked Sedona.
Grandpa chuckled at Sedona. She was as full as excitement as Pepper, but her age made her question even the most simple of magic. Sedona was an older and wiser child of ten, while Pepper was still at that delightful age of seven.
“Well, Sedona I thought I was, but as I listened and watched the gingerbread men, I looked for signs of a good dream; time passing very quickly or strange turn of events, but none of those things happened.
Pepper and Sedona snuggled in closer to Grandpa. While Pepper squeezed her eyes tight, Sedona continue to stare into the twinkly lights of the Christmas tree. Grandpa thought he smelled some cinnamon in the air, but he took a deep breath and began the story.
“Grandma Ann and me were sitting in our rocking chair by our Christmas tree the second year we were married, that was almost thirty-nine years ago. We were young people way back then and didn’t have many Christmas decorations for our house. We wondered how to decorate the Fireplace mantel, the part that goes above the fireplace. I told of how one of my favorite memories as a child, was to smell the gingerbread men baking in the oven and what a treat it was to eat them with milk on Christmas Eve. Grandma, a young woman back then, smiled as she listened to my memory. She knew what to get me for Christmas that year. Christmas Eve came around and I smelled Gingerbread cookies baking all morning. I had to leave to do my evening chores, but was excited to return home to have, what I hoped, an evening treat of Gingerbread men and milk. However, when I came in there were no cookies. The kitchen had a few pieces of candy scattered here and there, but no cookies. I was disappointed, but didn’t let it show.
On Christmas morning, I awoke to find a beautifully decorated Gingerbread house and a plate of Gingerbread men under the Christmas tree. That first Gingerbread house started a tradition. Each year Grandma and I would make a house for our mantle village. The houses didn’t last more than a year or two back then before they had to be thrown away. Almost by accident I found the perfect solution for preserving the houses.
One day in the middle of June about five years after the first gingerbread house had been constructed I brought home a can of lacquer. I had gone to the hardware store for some nails and returned with this treasure.”
“What is lacquer?” asked Pepper.
“Is that why your houses are all shinny?” Sedona wondered.
“Lacquer is a protective coating, kind of like clear paint. It does make our house shinny, but I like them that way. After finding the lacquer, all through July and August we tried different ways to preserve smaller, easy to make gingerbread houses. We found the best way was to paint the lacquer on with a paintbrush. We covered each piece of gingerbread before assembling it, and then we would coat it again after the whole house was assembled and decorated. We would let it dry and then do another layer, or two, or three, until we were sure the gingerbread house was completely covered. The lacquer would dry hard and clear and preserve our gingerbread houses for years and years. We no longer had to decide between making a very simple gingerbread village or just one really nice house every year; we could spend much more time on an individual piece knowing it would be a lasting treasure. Each year we spent hours planning, designing, building, and decorating our gingerbread house. On Christmas morning we would place it on the mantle, adding to our village.
A few years of our gingerbread houses weren’t as elaborate. When our kids were young, when your mom was your age Pepper, they seemed more interested in destroying the houses than helping make them. Once when your Uncle Jon was twelve and got a football for Christmas, disaster struck when it hit the village. A few houses were carefully glued back together, but many had to be thrown way because they were beyond repair. As the children grew and each left the house our tradition of the Gingerbread houses went back into full swing.
When I retired, my interest in the Gingerbread village grew and I began making more than houses. I added shops, a candy store, a library, a school, and up to that point, my favorite parts of the village was the gingerbread playground. It was hard to make moving swings, a slide, a working merry-go-round, but I had a lot of fun.
“I like those too Grandpa.” Pepper said.
“Through the years,” grandpa continued, “our little village had become quite impressive.
About eleven years ago, right before Sedona was born, Grandma and I were sitting in these chairs. Grandma had fallen asleep while writing out a menu for a Christmas dinner. We had gotten the Gingerbread village out that morning and set it all up. Grandma loves her Gingerbread Village and it was a special treat each year when her grandchildren, like you, Pepper, and Sedona, would came to see the growing collection. I always made sure each year the Gingerbread village was wrapped carefully away so that each piece would be intact till the next year when it was time to display them again. One year I even made a special table to display the entire gingerbread village on when it grew too big to fit on the mantel. The mantel was reserved for the most precious and fragile pieces. I wasn’t quiet asleep, but wasn’t quite awake when I thought I heard a mouse moving among the gingerbread village on the mantle.
I was at first irritated that a mouse would be trying to eat the Gingerbread houses that we cared about so much, when I heard small voices. They weren’t high or squeaky like a mouse should be, but quite and ruffled. I strained to hear them.
“I don’t know Lucas, they have strange coating on them. I don’t think my Annabell would like this.” The first hushed voice said.
“It looks a lot easier to keep clean than my old house. It is crumbling around us and with Amy due any day with our little one; I think this would make a perfect place.”
“Well, I think we should take this new kind of house back to the counsel and see what they say.” The first voice spoke again, but a little louder and not so hushed.
“Look at this. They have buildings I have never seen before. What is this?” The younger boy asked.
“Wow look at this. Son, this is a playground. One of the nicest sets I have ever seen. See this is a swing set and this is a slide.” The older man was checking to see if the swing set would hold his weight. When it did he and his son tried out all of the pieces, even the merry-go-round.
I couldn’t stop watching them. I was scared the pieces would break, but I saw the swing set was sturdy and the gingerbread men were enjoying themselves so much. The boy let out a loud squeal when he went down the slide causing grandma to shift in her chair a little. The gingerbread men froze and looked at her. Grandma soon was back to snoring, and I had closed my eyes almost all the way in case they looked at me. I watched them threw slotted eyes to see what they would do next. The Gingerbread men tiptoed behind the candy store and I didn’t hear anything. Disappointed, but still not believing what I had seen and heard, I silently went to the mantle. The two older gingerbread men looked up in fright and disappeared, but the boy didn’t seem to mind the giant peering at him.
‘Hello.’ I said in a quiet voice so not to scare the young Gingerboy.
‘Hello’ he answered back.
‘I am Thomas, What is your name and where did your friends go?’
“I am Figgen Jensen. Gingerbread men are taught never to be seen by humankind. They disappeared, but I have seen you watching us the whole time we have been here. I am not scared of you.” The young gingerbread boy seem to grown another half an inch with bravery.
“Why would you be scared of me?” I asked in a calm voice.
The young gingerbread answered while looking in a window of the Candy Shop.
‘We have had our kind hidden away for years. We are afraid of what would happen if your kind knew about us. I have heard that you eat gingerbread men. Did you make all of these?’
I answered him and said,
“My wife and I have made all of the village on the mantle and most of what is on the table over there and well, we have gingerbread cookies, and most of the time they are in the shape of little boys or girls but…wait right here.”
I shuffled off to the kitchen and returned holding a cookie in each hand.
“See, this is what we eat.”
The gingerbread boy was looking over the cookies when his father returned out of air in a poof of brown powder and a smell of cinnamon filled the air.
“What is the meaning of this? You know to use your Cinnapowder if a human comes in contact with us. What if he would have seen you?”
The gingerbread boy looked from his father and smiled up at me.
“Thomas, this is my father, Caden, father, this is Thomas.”
Caden seem to freeze, too scared to use his Cinnapowder as he had called it earlier.
“Father, they don’t eat us, they eat little cookies that look nothing like us. OK, well they are about our size, plus look, he has more of a village over there. We didn’t even see that. Look at how many houses, and look a town hall. We have needed one of those.”
I wanted to reach out and shake his hand, but I decided to gave a small nod of my head to the man instead while I said,
‘It is very nice to meet you. I am glad that our village is so pleasing to you, but what would you need a town hall for?’
Before I could finish my sentence Caden and Figgen poofed from sight again in the same brown powder I had seen and smelled before. I stood looking at the mantle with a gingerbread cookie in each hand when Grandma said ‘Thomas, what are you doing? Are you sneaking gingerbread cookies early?’, I found I had been standing there just waiting for something to happen for over ten minutes.
She took the cookies from my hands and kissed me on the cheek.
“Tomorrow is Christmas. The kids will be coming for dinner. We better get to sleep.”
I was still looking between and inside the houses when I figured she was right, but I just didn’t want to leave. I told Grandma to go to bed and I would be come in, in a few minutes.
Grandma chuckled at me and went to the kitchen to replace the cookies before turning down the hall towards the bedroom.
I went back to my chair and stared at the village. After what felt like hours, but according to the clock had only been twenty five minutes, I smelled cinnamon again.
‘Thomas?’ A voice called from the mantle called me.
I was on my feet and to the mantle as if I was young again. Figgen was standing by the swings. I smiled at him and Figgen went to the swing and talked as he enjoyed himself.
‘Father went to talk to the counsel about the events that happened here tonight. Mother thinks I am in bed, but I am of age to use the Cinnapowder when I see fit. Twelve is a very important age you see; we can use our own cinnapowder and not have to wait for an adult to give us some.’
I just smiled at him and listened.
“They liked your buildings very much, but they are think the only thing missing is a church. We care very much about religion, and I noticed earlier you didn’t have one.”
“What would you do to our village if we had a church?” I asked.
“We would cover the town in Cinnapowder and take it to our village. Each year we search through all the gingerbread houses available and take the ones that best suit our needs.”
I looked a little shocked.
“You take the houses? How come you have never taken one of ours before? Where is your village? Do you return them?’”
Grandpa looked down at the girls listening intently “You see, Pepper and Sedona, I was concerned that my gingerbread village would disappear that same night and I would never see it again.”
“Figgen told me that normally they could smell the gingerbread from their village.
He said ‘Our Village is a hidden magical place. No human has very visited because it is so small, and I don’t think any other Gingerbread Men have ever talked to a human before.” There was a pride in his voice. “We have never been able to smell your houses before because they are coved with this clear stuff that Lucas says looks easy to clean. That is one thing the counsel is discussing. They are wondering what this stuff is and if your houses would work in our village.”
I didn’t like the idea of the Gingerbread men taking away our hard work. I knew we would be so disappointed if we awoke the next morning with our village gone.
“I will tell you what Figgen. You tell the counsel to return here mid-morning and I will have a surprise for them.”
Figgen looked uncomfortable.
“I am not suppose to talk to you, or even be here. How will I tell the counsel that?”
I was a quick thinker and told Figgen to tell the counsel that he overheard me muttering in my sleep about putting a church in the village tomorrow and that you know the house will be empty because you saw on the calendar we were going to church at 11:00. I will take care of the rest.”
Figgen jumped from the swing and looked up at Grandpa.
“No tricks? We can use our Cinnapowder anywhere and disappear even if trapped.”
I hadn’t even thought about every trapping them and reassured him of that.
“Ok” said Figgen “I will see if I can get the Counsel to come tomorrow.”
I bowed slightly to Figgen since his hand was too small to shake and then Figgen with gone, leaving only the smell I was becoming very familiar with.
I set to work right away. I got a paper and cut it into tiny pieces. It was difficult to write small enough to get words on the paper but I did the best I could. My gift to Grandma that year was a church. I have waited for years to do the church because I could never get the windows right, But after watching a show this year on TV and learned how to make sugar glass. I spent many hours making the sugar glass just right and then many more hours finding the right colors to make three large stain glass windows on each side of the church, as well as a large one for behind the pulpit. It was a masterpiece when I had finished it. I had even kept it a secret from Grandma, who was making a piece for me that year too. We were happy in life and didn’t need or want much, so these pieces would be our gifts to each other that year. I placed the church on the mantle for Grandma to find in the morning.
I climbed into bed a few hours later than normal, but was still too excited for the morning I could hardly sleep. I felt like a little child again.
The morning did come and I was out of bed and ready for the day with energy I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Grandma arrived in the kitchen to a breakfast I made for her. I made a pile of eggs, 3 slices of bacon, toast with jam, and hot coco. Grandma laughed at me, because we knew she wouldn’t be able to eat more than a few bites of eggs and drink the coco before she was full. We sat next to each other and shared our breakfast off the same plate. Grandma surprised both of us when she ate her usual egg, a piece of bacon, and half a piece of toast. We both cleaned up breakfast while humming along with the Christmas carols playing in the background.
I took Grandma’s hand and led her to the mantle. She was silent as she searched out and found the church. Her eyes got misty and she reached out to really examine the detail that went into this act of love. So many little details of the church made it look very similar to the one we had been married in some thirty nine years ago. I can remember her blushing with happiness as she saw it looked like the church she had married me in. She replaced the church and hugged me as she felt even more in love with me now in their old age.
She told me to sit in his chair while she went to get her present. Thinking that she would bring in a small shed or cottage, since her love for gardening had flourished this year. I was confused when she brought in a small wooden card table instead. I started to ask what she was doing, but she was gone again. This time she had several small shoe boxes. She started to take piece after piece out of her boxes and set them up on the table. I oooed and moved closer. She hadn’t just build a shed or cottage, but a whole garden and part of a forest. I couldn’t have imaged when she would have found the time to do that, and then wondered if her gardening time hadn’t been spent working on this garden, for at least part of it. The small card table was covered with trees, bushes, and rows of different types of vegetables. Looking closer I saw the tree’s were apple, pear, and peach trees. Something Grandma had always wanted to grow, but couldn’t because it is so cold here where we live.
The Cottage was made out of gingerbread, but the gingerbread had been cut to resemble stones. I thought I had been so clever making gingerbread look like bricks on the church, but once again, Grandma proved she was just as talented as I was. Then Grandma told me,
‘Well Grandpa, I hope you like your gift, but you know we will have to keep the grandkids out of this room until we can build a higher table for this set, like you did for the other parts of the village.’
My smiled faded; I was worried the counsel wouldn’t agree to my contract. I did not want to see my wife’s precious gift disappear. I hugged Grandma and told her I would start working on a table the next morning, if was still here I thought to myself.
Soon it was time to go to church. Right before we left I went back to the gingerbread church, and placed the little papers I had written, onto the pulpit and met Grandma at the door to leave.
On the way to church I was worried I would be distracted and would miss the warm feeling of love that surrounds me, but as soon as the congregation started singing a Christmas hymn I was absorbed in the miraculous story of Christ’s birth. The stories and songs at church seemed to touch me right to the heart and soul that year as much, if not more, than any other Christmas I had remembered.
The time in church ended too quickly and we sat in their pew and talked with friends and watched young families with their children stuffed with energy leave the church. We loved watching the families, the children, and our friends interact. A small girl walked by and I could smell gingerbread. I noticed she had snuck a cookie in her coat pocket and was nibbling it while her parents wrestled her younger siblings into their coats to leave. I was filled with happiness and worry as I watched the family go. Soon the chapel was empty and I helped Grandma put her coat on.
I went immediately to the chapel upon arriving home. I thought I could smell cinnamon in the air, but wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. Grandma came over and helped me take my coat off, the whole time I watched the chapel. I waited till Grandma was in the kitchen. I could hear the pots and pans being placed on the stove and knew I should be in there helping, but first I just had to know. I looked inside the church and on the podium were my papers. I could tell right away they have been looked at. I carefully picked them up and scanned them. I had left some blank pages in the back so they could write a reply. I was thrilled to see tiny words written on the pages. I searched for my glasses, but couldn’t find them. I was too excited to wait so I called for Grandma to come and read it for me. She always had her glasses with her and began to read.
‘Dear good sir Thomas,
We are pleased with your contract and the recent addition to your village. As members of the counsel we would like to follow the contract with the following stipulations.’
‘Honey, what is this?’” Grandma asked me.
“Please finish reading; I will explain in a moment, what does the rest of the letter say?” I was thrilled.
Grandma continued the letter
‘If you would please sir, make one house and refrain from using any candy canes on it. Mrs. Pope is most allergic to them and it is terribly difficult to find good housing for her. Also, Mr. and Mrs. McFadden have recently added a fourth child, another boy, to his home and would like an extra bedroom placed on the yellow house.
As I am sure you are aware each year our village becomes more populated and will continue to do so, if God continues to bless us, and we are lacking good carpenters and architects. We don’t use money as in the humankind world, but we would like to form another contract in which you could teach our young men and women the craft of building houses and we could repay you somehow. One day we would like to stop removing gingerbread houses from the humankind, but have yet to find a way.
Our counsel understands the conditions on your end of the bargan and is willing to follow them as you have directed.
We also understand that with this season you will be unable to meet for the next few days as Figgen has hold us he heard you talking in your sleep and you will have your children and grandchild visiting. As a Grandfather myself, 13 times over, I whole heartily understand this and will contact you again when I can see your house calm again.
Thank you good sir,
The Counsel of Gingerville.’
I laughed loud when grandma finished reading. She looked confused as she looked over the tiny writing again.
“I have no idea what is going on, but I have a feeling I won’t believe it. Come in the kitchen and help me while you explain what the counsel of Gingerville is and what contract you are signing without talking to me first.”
Still laughing with joy I led her into the kitchen. I told her the whole story as we made the few side dishes we were to provide for Christmas dinner. Everyone else was bringing the other items for a grand Christmas feast. Grandma found the story so fascinating that she told me she didn’t remember making the side dishes, but she also told me she needed some time to think it over before giving me her honest opinion.
Grandma was so overwhelmed by the story that after she placed the vegetables and potatoes in the oven to stay warm she went to her chair to watched the mantle and think. I sat next to her in my chair and soon we were both taking a much needed nap.
Grandma told me later that, in her sleep, she thought she could feel someone watching her. She opened her eyes just a little and saw a movement among the mantle. She went to the mantle and all though she couldn’t see anyone, but thought she smelled cinnamon. The mantle was peaceful and she felt well rested. She woke me with a soft kiss to my forehead and then we both heard the car doors in the driveway slamming. Your parents had arrived and at that time Sedona was a little baby, just learning to walk.
We love their grandkids, but always sleep a little longer for a few days after you all leave. After your parents, and all your Aunts and Uncles, and cousins left the house we soon fell into our quiet routines without our wonderful grandkids to stir up fun and trouble. Both Grandma and I were anxiously awaiting any news from the Gingerbread counsel. Maybe they had forgotten about the contract and found a nicer village.
The next Sunday upon arriving home from church, we were greeted by a whole community of Gingerbread people. Lucas’s wife Amy held her newborn baby in her arms, while Figgen and his father were allowed to stand with the counsel as they addressed Grandma and me.
“Good man and wife. I am Lanar, the head of the Gingerbread counsel.” Spoke an older gingerbread man who looked well respected and wise. We have joined as a community to thank you for your kindness and would like to begin our contract.”
We discussed the details and afterwards a party followed, we all have fun exchanging traditions and learning about each other.
‘What type of traditions?’ Sedona asked softly. Grandpa thought maybe she was starting to believe.
‘Do they eat Gingerbread humans?’ giggled Pepper.
Grandpa chuckled ‘That story will have to wait for another night, maybe tomorrow perhaps. But that year instead of carefully putting the gingerbread houses away, like everyone thought I did; all the people in the Gingerbread community gathered at our village and frolic in what would be their community for the next eleven months. In the contract I agreed to let his Gingerbread village go with the Gingerbread families to their secret location, only to be returned at the beginning on December. Since they could disappear and reappear at whim, they would live in the village, in our home, whenever we did not have company. The counsel starting working on a new gingerbread powder, which would make them blend it to the house so they could live here even when people visited us.
All the Gingerbread men and women, along with Grandma and me gathered in front of the Town Hall and Lanar made a grand speech. The evening was coming to a close and several of the young mothers had already left with the little ones who were falling asleep. The Counsel and many of the Gingerbread people started to make preparations to transport the village. Many of the little pieces of the village were disappearing right before our eyes. Soon all that remained was the church with Figgen and Lanar standing at the doors. Lanar cleared his throat and handed us some desires that the Gingerbread people had made for the upcoming year. After that each year they would ask me to have new pieces built for them for the next year and was very excited to start working on them. That started the first of many years of building a wonderful and magical town for the Gingerbread people.
Your Grandma and I have enjoyed the challenges of all the many ideas and buildings the people of Gingerville think of. All requests are granted to the best of our abilities.”
“Grandpa, is that why you opened the Gingervillage Store?” Peppper asked. The magic of the moment was turning more into a sleepy time and both girls were starting to get heavy eyelids.
“Yes, it is. We have to practice making some of our Gingerbread inventions before we perfect it. So those that are our practice go to the store, while only the most perfect pieces go to our Gingerbread friends and since both Grandma and I retired we could focus on it full time. Plus, we started giving clases to our gingerbread friends so they could make their own pieces. They have gotten very talented and we love doing it, almost as much as we love you too.”
Grandpa saw Grandma smiling at him from the doorway. It was bedtime, but she knew the story was almost over. He was glad she gave him a few more precious moments with his granddaughters before bed.
“Grandpa I smelled Gingerbread when you started your story.” Pepper said with all the faith of a child. Grandpa chuckled at his little Pepper.
“Grandpa? Will you teach me how to make gingerbread houses? “ Sedona asked
“I thought you didn’t believe in my stories?” Grandpa said in surprise.
Without saying a word Sedona pointed to the mantle. Figgen, his wife, Annie, and their Gingerbread children were sitting on the park bench, which was a new addition this year, listening to the story. Figgen was part of the counsel now and was pleased to have been married in the Chapel Grandpa had made.
“Come along, I have some friends to introduce you to.”
He held Sedona and Peppers hands while walking them to the mantle. He lifted each child up in turn so they could meet his good friends Figgen and the gingerbread children.
Grandpa knew one day he would be gone and the contract would be passed along to one of their grandchildren, perhaps to Sedona or Pepper, and then one day, they would pass it on to their child or grandchild. The thought made Grandpa’s heart warm.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Oh my Goodness!
I live in a quiet small lovely little town
Until you cross the wrong people.
Nutshell: our school district has to vote on getting a new school or now. On the surface it is awesome--who wouldn't want a new school?
Tons of ‘Vote YES on 3A’ signs up everywhere. Everyone is happy.
Some people start asking questions--wondering about cost, and deeper questions.
NOW...teachers/staff who MIGHT (and I am not saying there are, because I would not want to the be the reason they fear for their job) not want to vote Yes are not sharing any feelings because their jobs might be at risk.
Lucas (my hubby) was told "I am just warning you, this might hurt your business" on his discussion to vote no. his name was specifically addressed at a meeting--
Another man, who has been getting a lot of information about why we shouldn’t vote yes, was sent a letter in the mail--and it was NOT a love letter.
My QUESTION is---what is happening to our town?
What is happening to the 1st amendment!?
I have NO idea who is leading these letters or negatives statements.
I have NO ill feelings towards ANYONE about this--I am sad that it has come to this. In my mind I live in a world where people sit in a forum and talk peacefully with out to many emotions (love that mom?) and everyone is able to see all sides and then vote accordingly---EVEN if that means voting differently then me!
Long version with some ranting...
I DON'T CARE IF PEOPLE VOTE YES OR NO...I just want people to question more and find out both sides of the story---I like most people in our town---I think this is mostly a good school district with mostly excellent staff and teachers.
I feel that it is sad the Vote Yes people can send out a letter and sign their names at the bottom, when our little group can't do that for fear of retaliation. I feel it is sad that people have told me flat out, I am not telling anyone how I vote because I don't want to deal with the anger.
Ask questions---Like how all the signs were paid for by the construction company who is contracted to build our school---WHY would they be that interested? I could only assume millions of reasons?
Ask--how bad is the mold in our school? Is it bad mold? Do I have more mold in my own house? Do we have the budget to fix the mold/roof without building a new school?
Ask--How will this affect our school growth until the money is paid off
Ask--where is the money going exactly? Is this our ONLY option?
Ask—Even if this doesn’t go through, will my child still be getting a good education?
Ask Ask Ask--
The sad thing is that while asking the Superintend is grand and great (and I suggest people do it) -- who can we ask who ISN'T for it? Don't we have a right and responsibility to find out BOTH sides? Thank goodness for a few people in town who have stepped up and taken it into their own hands in finding out.
In college the first thing I was taught in debate was--If you are debating the Con side, learn ALL the pro's and vice versa so you know how to debate the issue.
The hard part it---I HOPE that I could trust the superintendant to tell us the truth (and I do), but I also trust these other people fully! SO when one person is telling me one thing and the other is telling me another—what do I do?
Well I ASK myself—who has more to gain? –does this family who isn’t gaining anything but stress and heartache out to gain anything? They have had a few issues with the school before, they have homeschooled their children, and then sent they back…but do they hate the school? No—if they really had issues with the school they wouldn’t send them back---What about the superintendant? Does his salary go up? Does his prestige go up? What does he gain by having a new school?
I was talking with my Step mom -in-law and she said the high school down where she lives was doing the same thing--they had MOLD and all this horrible stuff so everyone voted for a new school---Low and behold, all of a sudden the old school didn't have as many problems, and they use it for a Junior high now---HUMM...did the mold just disappear? Are they knowingly putting a whole school of children and adults at risk? Ummm...NO...the truth was exaggerated. So I ASK myself—is that what is going on here?
Really Out there ranting!
So after this SMALL scale issue…I can see how Hitler gained his power. Don’t get me WRONG I am NOT SAYING anyone in this situation is Hitler—hear me out.
Hitler use fear and secrets to gain control. He was able to spread fear and those few who spoke out and asked what was really going on were quickly removed—then he used more fear to gain more control and keep more things secret, until it was too late and everyone had to be quiet about everything and no one felt safe.
I feel in our town there are a few who are doing this. Using fear for a tactic.
Lets tell those that are vocally against the school to be quiet…lets threaten them…lets make their fear for their livelihood, lets tell them they are bad mothers because they don’t want a new school for their children, let’s make them afraid to say anything SO that others will be afraid to join them so the same doesn’t happen to them.
This is the stage we are at-- and in NO way can I see if going further than that—BUT I can see how it did and how easily it could. The sad thing is my family would be one of the first to go---
Last little part—Since this is MY blog and I am not writing to make ANYONE happy but myself with this post I WILL delete any comments that are negative.
See maybe there is a little bit of Hitler in me since I will be taking away freedom of speech!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
So cute--love her excitment!
Monday, September 19, 2011
So wait a little while longer until I am all pinned out and then I will return to good old blogging!
until then--have a lovely day/night/morning!
Friday, August 5, 2011
The two kids of the hour and their beautiful moms
Love this shot
I didn't get one of Liberty and her family :(
Wish the reflection wasn't in the way.
Asia and her jumping dance--pretty awesome!
You can't tell but she is off the ground in this picture!
2nd Cousins--You would have never guess they just met each other for the first time about an hour before this picture! I love it!!
it crashes. I just need to order a new battery, but considering I have about 100 for groceries so far this month I think the battery can wait till people start paying their accounts -- come one people pay us so we can live ;)
really not that bad, but just frustrating...but I will post pictures again ASAP.
Thanks for waiting.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Pepper shaking her "groove thang".
The photographer took family pictures. This might be a birthday gift to Lucas in a cute frame for his desk in the shop--Wish I didn't have baby fat--but at least I have the baby!
Loved their shoes--well her shoes, his were standard tux shoes.
They love Aunt Jane already!
The Whitaker/Mcfadden/Larson grandkids!
Taking pictures at the Springville Art Musuem where the Utah reception was held
Thanksgiving point--a beautiful little garden area where mom took a nap.
After this park we went to a little water sprinkler place and let the kids play in the water.
With a new baby and no hubby around to help (he had to stay home and work to pay for all my fun!), I didn't get as many pictures of things as I wanted.
BUT..on the ride over...
The kids had fun--good thing we had our own room--they were a little wild!
Mom's family and Jon.
Jane was quiet, but so lovely!
She was so cute and fun.
Her mother Michelle is just as lovely and fun as her daughter
Some of her Step Sisters (I didn't get a picture of her other half sister Mary) :(
So fun and interesting! I really like ALL of Jane's family!