Science Lesson

We have a science teacher at school who has been here for over 20 years. He is the epitome of a high school science teacher stereotype. He knows exactly what the kids think of him (i.e. kooky old, eccentric) and he totally plays into the character. He's a world-renowned hunter and offers extra credit points for students who bring in road kill. Which makes the fact that I found a hummingbird in the faculty freezer a little bit less strange, but no less disgusting.

The Perfect Crime

I no longer have fingerprints. Well, at least not on my right hand. And at least not for now.

Tonight I made a rib-eye steak for Husband (to celebrate our 3-year anniversary.) The steak is seared on the stovetop and then the pan is put into the oven where it roasts for about 12 minutes. After that, I took the pan out of the oven (with a mitt, of course) and placed it on the stove. The steak is removed and the juices in the pan are used to make the au jus. But in the 4 seconds it took to remove the steak, my brain destroyed any trace of memory that the pan was still scalding from the oven. You can imagine what happened when I grabbed the handle with my bare hands . . . . au jus a la burnt skin.

Love hurts.

Validation

IB scores came back today! (The results from the international exam that International Baccalaureate students take. Also known as the bane of my existence and cause of multiple panic attacks since I started teaching this course).

ALL MY KIDS PASSED. And most actually did better than I predicted that they would.
Sweet sweet validation. Mark one in the "win" column.

One down

Today marks the first day of Husband's "Second Year". It's sort of strange because you come home on June 30th from your last day as an intern and you wake up the next morning to start the next rotation and the next year - no holiday, no break, not even a weekend! Second Year in his program is the most difficult - mostly because of the call schedule (he is on call at the hospital every 4th night) and the fact that you are essentially on your own in the ER.

As we cross into the second year, I am reminded (with help from my friend, Beth) of how lucky we are to have matched in such a wonderful city with such incredibly people. There is tons to do here (when we have time to do it) and we have met some really fantastic friends. We have been honored to share in their weddings, pregnancies, and birthdays. The hours suck, the work is back-breaking, and Husband jokes that he keeps searching for the closet where they have hidden his soul . . . but all that is made a little easier by the fact that we are in a lovely city, with good friends, and only 2 hours from family.

One year down - Four to go!

Thank you

Dear Husband,
Thank you for asking me to marry you 4 years ago. Best decision I've ever made.
Love,
Wife

Lasagnamania

I love a good lasagna. And although somewhat trite - I think it a perfect meal to bring a family that has just had a baby (freezes well, serves easily, lots of it!) The City of Greenville has apparently infused the public water system with some sort of fertility drug - because around here people get pregnant simply by thinking about it.

Our close friends in Greenville (the Millers) had their baby girl on Friday, AND our next door neighbor gave birth to a baby boy on Sunday, and of course I had to make and extra one for Husband and me . . . . lasagna time!

I had a new recipe from another Greenville friend (Catie) that I was excited to try out. I went to the grocery store and stocked up on sauce (9 bottles), meat (3 pounds), noodles (2 boxes), and cheese (you don't want to know). I had made an entire lasagna assembly line and spent most of the afternoon prepping and baking . . . an otherwise tiresome task that was actually enjoyable because I was doing it in the name of new babies (a worthy cause, in my opinion).

Tonight will be lasagna-drop-off-night, which is really just a clever ruse for get-to-see-the-babies-night. I am shameless.

The Land of (Happy Cow) Milk and (Local) Honey

At a road side market near our house:

I respect religion. All types. But don't you think that declaring appreciation for Jesus's martyrdom on the same road sign as your vine ripe tomato sale and green "p-nuts" somehow diminishes its spiritual value?

ps. Bonus points if you immediately saw that "tomatos" is spelled wrong

pps. There were no berries at this market - even though it was on the board - TWICE.