tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70805832017-06-21T22:21:29.875-05:00 My Mosaic LifeWelcome to my eclectic little blog! I post a little bit of everything: genealogy research findings, crochet, life, work, family, reading, writing - a mosaic of my life.Rhea Pannellnoreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-81665876877111289092017-06-19T23:11:00.000-05:002017-06-19T23:11:02.754-05:00Summer Fun Reading ListOne of my favorite things to do is read. I remember being a kid, sitting on my bed with books scattered everywhere, completely immersed in a good story. I read everything - Sweet Valley High, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Ramona Quimby, Superfudge, Stephen King books, Nemesis (my first Isaac Asimov book). These days, it's harder for me to find the time to read as I did back then. Too many things pull me away from my books whether it's something to do for work or simply the pull of Facebook. Summer break and a forced convalescence have given me back some of that time. I've been able to actually enjoy reading again. I'm back to reading everything, but this time, I have a small goal. I want to read Pulitzer Prize books. For the next few weeks, I'm still reading my other books, but I'm throwing in a Pulitzer Prize one. I figured I would be able to get through the ones from the past decade so here is my list:<br /><br />2017 - The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead<br />2016 - The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen<br />2015 - All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr (I'm reading that one now)<br />2014 - The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt<br />2013 - The Orphan Master's Son by Adam Johnson<br />2011 - A Visit from the Good Squad by Jennifer Egan<br />2010 - Tinkers by Paul Harding<br /><br />After that, I may do a theme reading. Remember all the characters from A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen? That would be a good theme - reading the books those characters were based on. We shall see. The nice part is that I can read without feeling as if I need to take notes which is refreshing.Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-65301034900309794162017-06-17T11:15:00.000-05:002017-06-17T11:15:32.994-05:00Teacher Summer PD ResourceI just completed my first year of teaching high school English. During the year, I spent time planning, grading, lamenting, crying, drinking, and sleeping in various proportions depending on the time of year (does inadvertently becoming an amateur wine connoisseur count as teacher PD??).<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IIwfQmjoLFE/WUVG0FUpDhI/AAAAAAAACi0/shPrhBWuc70y0xO1btuLCXoGgO8S23inwCLcBGAs/s1600/wine%2Btasting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="179" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IIwfQmjoLFE/WUVG0FUpDhI/AAAAAAAACi0/shPrhBWuc70y0xO1btuLCXoGgO8S23inwCLcBGAs/s320/wine%2Btasting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><div><br /></div><div>I had a lot of OMG moments - good ones, bad ones, and ugly ones. By the end of the year, I was a wet mess and couldn't wait for it to be over.&nbsp;</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u51iMaB326w/WUVHDnGMI_I/AAAAAAAACi4/IhbQmPuRrdYGvo_g4snyFES8rXOwLUlaACLcBGAs/s1600/teaching%2Bgot%2Bme%2Blike.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="231" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u51iMaB326w/WUVHDnGMI_I/AAAAAAAACi4/IhbQmPuRrdYGvo_g4snyFES8rXOwLUlaACLcBGAs/s1600/teaching%2Bgot%2Bme%2Blike.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The other interesting emotion I had was panic. It's all over! I had so much more to do! So much more to teach! How could I have fixed things?? I have failed as a teacher!! Oh, the horror! Within the first few days of summer break, however, that feeling blissfully passed away and I was in full teacher summer break mode.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7cA_aCAtzy4/WUVT9iFv46I/AAAAAAAACjY/yAsZnppFtEk39b_I6ciCyGnBjhhJY5vDACLcBGAs/s1600/what%2Bday%2Bis%2Bit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7cA_aCAtzy4/WUVT9iFv46I/AAAAAAAACjY/yAsZnppFtEk39b_I6ciCyGnBjhhJY5vDACLcBGAs/s320/what%2Bday%2Bis%2Bit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, I'm in that wonderful state of being where I'm not panicked and I'm not dreading the upcoming year. I'm looking forward to setting a new classroom up, and piecing together some of the things I'll be teaching this next year. I can reflect on my first school year without going into a depression. I can read articles without a sense of dread. I can watch videos and be inspired. Speaking of which, one of my favorite video resources is <a href="https://www.teachingchannel.org/" target="_blank">Teaching Channel</a>. A colleague from my CREP days at the University of Memphis introduced me to this website and I have found myself going back again and again (you're my hero, <a href="https://twitter.com/SarahWessling" target="_blank">Sarah Brown Wessling</a>!!). &nbsp;Teaching Channel has every video you can imagine and I look at a ton of them. I don't even limit myself to English or high school. Most of the videos you watch on this site can be adapted to your particular grade in some way. AND they also have a place where you can add and save notes for any of the videos so you can go back and review.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It IS summer break, though, so I also have lots of time to stay in my jammies, sleep until 10 am, binge-watch Netflix, eat whenever I want, and read books that I don't have to make notes in. Here's to enjoying summer break in all its unstructured bliss!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SgskeoFrx9s/WUVT2iJCECI/AAAAAAAACjU/8ZNfnsBKFYcDgz_gPqCIt8WmuSppb9LKQCLcBGAs/s1600/I%2Bshould%2Btake%2Ba%2Bshower.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="500" height="234" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SgskeoFrx9s/WUVT2iJCECI/AAAAAAAACjU/8ZNfnsBKFYcDgz_gPqCIt8WmuSppb9LKQCLcBGAs/s320/I%2Bshould%2Btake%2Ba%2Bshower.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-45193900882538441982017-06-10T12:39:00.003-05:002017-06-10T12:39:47.714-05:00The Many Shades of Student LoansMany moons ago, I bought a house with my now ex-husband. By the end of that first year, our mortgage had hopped from one bank to another to another, like a hot potato. That was the world of financing – juggling money to make more money.<br /><br />Fast forward to today. I currently don’t have a mortgage, but I do have student loans. A few years ago I realized I needed to go back to college in order to be able to make it on my own. Grants, scholarships, and many loans later, I am now a high school English teacher. Not a bad trade-off, right? Currently, some of my student loans are being serviced by FedLoan Servicing and others are now serviced by Navient after they’ve been bounced around a couple of times (like a mortgage). So far, I haven't had many issues. The customer service has been very cooperative in helping me navigate payment plans as well as answering any questions I've ever had about my student loans. However, Navient has received its share of complaints over the years and recently has been involved in a <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/money/personalfinance/2017/04/10/navient-lawsuit-what-student-loan-borrowers-need-know/100314896/" target="_blank">lawsuit for negligence and unethical practices</a> - not exactly the type of behavior that inspires confidence in a loan holder (Google them). That was in January.<br /><br />Today, I received a note from Navient stating that the Department of Education was transferring my loans from Navient to FedLoan Servicing. A safe assumption would be that action is a direct result of the pending lawsuit. So now, all my loans are under one loan servicer that has had its own share of complaints (yeah, Google them, too).<br /><br />I’m not sure what all that means outside of conjecture. I’m assuming all will be made clear here in the next few months. On the one hand, it’s nice to have all the little loans combined under one umbrella and away from the craziness of what is now Navient. On the other hand, I’m not entirely sure I trust that umbrella.<br /><br />Why don’t I transfer them all to a private loan, you ask? Well, the main reason is a neat little program called the <a href="https://studentaid.ed.gov/sa/repay-loans/forgiveness-cancellation/public-service" target="_blank">Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program</a>. If I make regular payments on my loans for 10 years as a teacher (some restrictions apply), then the remainder of the loan will be forgiven at the end of that 10-year period.<br /><br />THAT is all getting ready to change under the new leadership of Betsy DeVos. The forgiveness program is getting ready to go away along with some other major changes to student loans:<br /><br /><a href="http://money.cnn.com/2017/05/26/pf/college/betsy-devos-student-loan-debt/index.html" target="_blank">The $1.3 trillion student loan problem facing Betsy DeVos</a><br /><br />Also, the Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program has had its own share of issues, one of which involve lack of clarity on whether or not your particular job qualifies for the loan forgiveness program. This issue wouldn't be much of a problem except that it's rearing its ugly head after participants have already been approved and have been certifying each year:<br /><br /><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/30/business/student-loan-forgiveness-program-lawsuit.html" target="_blank">Student Loan Forgiveness Program Approval Letters May Be Invalid, Education Dept. Says</a><br /><br />All of this combined doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the system. My hope is that the loan forgiveness program is stepping aside to make room for a new and improved loan forgiveness program of a different name and that everything will settle down soon. If not, I predict a lot of banks are going to be receiving an influx of student loans with the promise of lower interest rates and a more stable environment – me included.Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-12005485250453483872017-06-07T12:30:00.001-05:002017-06-07T12:42:18.146-05:00Hysterectomy AdventureA few years ago I noticed some pain in my abdomen. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I typically ignore aches and pains these days. I’m 44. Random aches and pains have been part of my life for a while. But for whatever reason, I noticed these pains even though they had probably been around for quite a while. It wasn’t cramps, although it did feel a little cramp-y. It wasn’t severe pain. It was just simply a dull ache as if my body was saying, hey! You’ve got a little something going on here. Turns out it was fibroids and they had made home in my uterus for a lot of years, multiplying like little tumorous rabbits. The pain slowly increased to the point where I realized they were going to have to be evicted somehow. Since I had so many of them, my doctor suggested a full hysterectomy. I was fine with that since I didn’t plan on having any more children anyway. This was the fall of 2016, my first year of teaching high school. Over the course of the next few weeks, I made plans, appointments, and eventually came up with a date for the surgery: May 30th, the Tuesday after school was out for the summer. The date was far enough in the distance where it didn’t really seem real. Life went back to normal.<br /><br />About a month away from the date of the surgery, I started getting a bit concerned. I had never really had surgery outside of an emergency C-section almost 20 years ago. I had never been put out completely with anesthesia and for someone who has a bit of trouble giving up control, that was a bit of an issue. Then I did the worst thing possible. I started Googling it. DON’T DO IT! the discussion boards screamed. YOUR DOCTOR IS WRONG! *sigh* I read about all the horrific things that could happen before and after surgery. Even my nurses were jumping on the band wagon, lamenting that my body will look old before its time. I quit Googling. I got a haircut. For bravery.<br /><br />The weekend before the surgery was the first weekend after school let out. I had a bunch of friends over for cards and we had a great time. It was the perfect distraction. Sunday was pretty quiet. I worked my second job delivering pizza. Monday was spent vegging. We ate a quiet dinner and I went to bed. I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink after midnight which was just fine with me as I had to get up at 4:30 anyway. That next morning, I packed, looked at my coffee pot in longing, and my boyfriend drove us to the hospital. I had bathed in Dial soap, I was lotion-less and makeup-less. I did wash my hair.<br /><br />That day was a bit surreal. I checked in and we waited until it was time for me to go back and get prepped. I had to wipe myself down completely with antiseptic pads, clean out my nostrils with some type of antiseptic iodine (gross), and crawl into the traditional backless gown. And wait. We talked. We laughed. We left the TV off. They set me up on an IV. One of the nurses explained that the nose cleaning thing was part of long-term research, looking at ways to cut down on bacterial infections (cool!). The doctor came in to chat and gave me the disclaimer – all the things that could go wrong. I listened with half an ear. I figured since I was already on the table, I was pretty committed anyway. I wonder if anyone has ever backed out after hearing about all the bad things that could happen during surgery? The two nurses came back in, told me they were putting something in my IV to help me relax and proceeded to wheel me out of the room. I’m on my back, idling looking at the ceiling, watching the fluorescent lights float by, and that's where my memory stops.<br /><br />My memory comes back when I’m in my room. I have no memory of the surgery, of course. I have no memory of the recovery room. I first remember my parents and Bryan walking in, talking to each other and talking to me. The surgery was over. I was now minus a uterus and two ovaries and the scar tissue that had built up over the years from my C-section incision was now cleaned out. I have a nice, even horizontal scar that stretches from leg to leg.<br /><br />Day 1 post-op: Wednesday. That first day was a a blur of nurses coming in and out, checking things, administrating medication, and me chatting with Bryan. Mom and Dad left after a while. I had some pain in the beginning, but they got it regulated pretty quickly. It was nice and hazy and cozy. The room was huge. Bryan was impressed with the size of the bathroom. The TV had horrible reception. The nurses were friendly. At some point during the day, I realized I was on a catheter which was weird. I had never been on one before and it was odd not having the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom. A nurse occasionally came in and emptied the bag and if it weren’t for my seeing that, I would never know I had urine going out of my body. After about an hour or so of being in my room, they came in and removed the monitor once my vitals were stable. I have no idea what Bryan and I talked about.<br /><br />By the time night came, I was a bit more aware of things. I was able to talk to the nurses without sounding drunk.<br /><br />By morning, I was attempting to sit up and eat some actual breakfast – oatmeal, yogurt, and some juice. The plan was to get me out of bed and moving around. They removed the catheter about mid-morning and by mid-afternoon, I was up, going to the bathroom on my own, eating solid foods even though I still didn’t have much of an appetite. I was sent home that evening, with a binder for my waist, prescriptions for pain meds and a stool softener, a patch on my arm that gave me the hormones I was now missing, and the cool yellow socks they issue (a friend says I am now officially part of The Yellow Sock Club). I had been advised by one of the nurses to not pick at the glue on my incision. It was a little bit unnerving knowing that my incision was held together by glue and dissolvable stitches on the inside of my body. I was a bit panicked that first evening – what if something went wrong? I no longer was under the safety of the hospital where if things went badly, I could have the nurses and doctors right there to fix it. We made it through, though. I tried eating some soup, just enough to get something in my stomach for the medication. I crawled into bed and slept through the haze of pain medication. I really was happy to be back home.&nbsp; <br /><br />Day 2 post-op: After about three doses of the generic equivalent of Percocet, I'm done with it. It makes me feel as if my head were detached from the rest of my body and I don't like that feeling at all. I stop taking it and instead start taking the generic Tylenol-3. Much better. I feel like my couch is going to have a permanent butt-print on it. I don't feel like doing much other than watch movies on TV. I’m gassy and gurgly which I’ve been told is actually a good thing because that means my gastro system is functioning.<br /><br />Burning question of the day. What happens to that gaping blank space where my female innards used to be?? Turns out that my bowel takes up a lot of the space. So basically, I’m even more full of shit than I was before. haha<br /><br />Day 3 post-op: Friday. I’m still eating foods that are easy on my system – soup, things like that. Breakfast has been oatmeal or yogurt. Bryan gets take-out from Dixie café and I'm able to get some mashed potatoes, turnip greens, squash, and black-eyed peas. I’m still drinking a ton of water along with some cranberry juice. He had brought me some coffee that morning and I was able to drink half of it. By now, my stomach has been rumbling so much that I fear I’m going to have the Mount St. Helen’s version of a bowel movement at some point soon.<br /><br />Day 4 post-op: Saturday. I’m reading my books, playing around on my computer, and watching TV. I have a new appreciation for high-fiber foods. I’ve been able to poop little poop nuggets at this point. I’m feeling pretty good. My incision was a little achy, but I haven’t had to worry about any adverse reactions to the Tylenol-3 or the stool softener. We watched the Nashville Predators game that night (Go Preds!).<br /><br />Day 5 post-op: Sunday. I'm not able to go to church, but a couple of my church buddies stop by afterwards with some altar flowers which made my day. They're beautiful. White hydrangeas. One of the parishioners had a wedding there the night before and typically the flowers are always left for the next morning.<br /><br />Day 6 post-op: Monday. While everyone else is at work, I’m looking forward to a week of Netflix binging and guarding the couch. Today is my first day eating REAL FOOD. Pizza. That was the best thing I had ever put in my mouth. I ate two pieces and a couple of the little mini-cupcakes that Bryan brought over. He’s been the best care-taker.<br /><br />Day 7 post-op: Tuesday. I’m paying for the pizza. But it's worth it. My gastro system is obviously working. Today is follow-up day, one week since the surgery. The doc is happy with my progress and how my incision worked. The nurse removes the tape that was on either side of my incision. She pops a small blood blister that had formed through a part of the glue (ow!). I mention that I have a bit of restless leg syndrome at night and that I had a bit of diarrhea. Both are part of the healing process, nothing to worry about. He says I'm free to drive a little if I want to. That seems a bit soon for me so my plan is to wait until the beginning of the third week unless I just had to go somewhere. Luckily, I live in town so everything I need is a 5-minute drive away, tops. He encourages me to walk as much as my body would allow. We go to Arby’s for lunch and I can eat about half of my food. I spend the rest of the day relaxing on my back patio. I hadn’t been wearing the binder since I got home, but I did use it for the first time that night and slept like a rock. I think I’ll probably continue to wear it to bed for at least the next week.<br /><br />Day 8 post-op: Today-Wednesday. I have regular bowel movements (you don’t realize how much you appreciate those until you’re not able to have them), I’m no longer on any type of pain medication, and I’m on hormone therapy. Hormone therapy was another hurdle to jump over. I’ve heard opinions from both camps on this and yes, I Googled it, which was another mistake. Don’t do it! they screamed. I stopped Googling. My plan is to stay on hormones for a few years until the time that my body would naturally go into menopause and then start weaning myself off of the hormones at my doctor’s direction.<br /><br />Here on out, it’ll be continued recovery, but so far, so good. I don’t miss having a uterus. I don’t miss having ovaries. I do wish the doctor had sucked out some of the fat while he was in there, but whatever. I have another battle scar on my stomach which is fine. It’s just a physical thing and I never really worried too awful much about what my body looked like. I'll wear it with pride. As long as I’m able to walk and do the things I want to do, I could care less. I’m thrilled the surgery went well, I’m thrilled I’m recovering well, and I’m looking forward to enjoying my summer break in a way only a teacher can enjoy it.Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-10345328872582825122017-03-25T15:13:00.001-05:002017-03-25T15:13:45.200-05:00Lesson Gone WrongFor those of you who have worked with me before, you know one of the things I constantly do is reflect. Where did I go wrong? What could I have done differently? What worked and gave me that giddy holy-crap-they're-really-getting-it feeling? What could be improved? What? What? What? I'm constantly asking myself these questions as a first-year teacher. What can I do to improve myself going into the next year of teaching? I constantly am on the lookout for websites that will help me hone my craft of teaching. One of my favorite ones is <a href="http://www.teachingchannel.org/" target="_blank">Teaching Channel</a>. I can watch a video and see how another teacher approaches a concept, the tools they use, and the techniques they implement in the classroom for student engagement. Teaching Channel recently began a new series called <i>Tchr's Cut </i>and I just watched the first video. I love, LOVE this series already. Veteran teachers are discussing what goes on in the background of the videos posted on Teaching Channel and provides us with a look at the sometimes dirty business of teaching. This series makes me feel wonderful as a first-year teacher because I know that even veteran teachers make mistakes. None of us are perfect, but we are all looking at becoming better teachers. My favorite thing about this series is being able to see these veteran teachers reflect on what worked, what didn't, and how they can improve their teaching in future lessons. Here's the link:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.teachingchannel.org/blog/2017/03/24/tchers-cut/?utm_source=newsletter20170325/" target="_blank">Tcher's Cut: Making the Invisible Visible</a></div><br />This first year of teaching has been a series of dramatic highs and lows for me and I'll be the first to admit that I'm mentally counting down the days until summer. However, I'm also encouraged that even though I have been frustrated, even though I have felt I haven't taught students well, even though I sometimes feel like a total failure as a teacher, I also know that I'm looking at these experiences through the lens of a new teacher. I've been praised as a teacher who has done very well for a first-year teacher, that I work well with my consulting teacher, that I show a positive attitude in wanting to better myself as a teacher, and I have good relationships with my students. This fall I'll be starting a new phase of my teaching career which really excites me. Here's to the next few years of my teaching adventure!Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-91161147682684109182017-03-13T13:21:00.000-05:002017-03-13T13:21:38.835-05:00Spring Break<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is my official first day of spring break.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WfdGvV_cRf0/WMbfiRcpzxI/AAAAAAAABfw/cuSAI1BsyeYPGv3CxNIMZaUQOB5f2WPyACLcB/s1600/jfkt9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WfdGvV_cRf0/WMbfiRcpzxI/AAAAAAAABfw/cuSAI1BsyeYPGv3CxNIMZaUQOB5f2WPyACLcB/s320/jfkt9.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">https://imgflip.com/i/jfkt9</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I count it as the first day because it’s the first day where I’m supposed to be teaching and it’s very obvious that I’m not. Instead, I slept until 10. Drank my coffee at an unaccustomed slow pace. Ate my Cocoa Pebbles as if I had all the time in the world. Watched Netflix. I’m still in my pajamas.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vMRiHlf6h3Q/WMbgSpgVfvI/AAAAAAAABf0/yMqe7Xoe4ow4NU2gMrC5nds3eHSa1Y0YQCLcB/s1600/no-pants-to-do-list.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vMRiHlf6h3Q/WMbgSpgVfvI/AAAAAAAABf0/yMqe7Xoe4ow4NU2gMrC5nds3eHSa1Y0YQCLcB/s320/no-pants-to-do-list.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">https://thepensivesloth.com/memes-for-teachers/</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t hate. I’m actually trying to force myself to do this. My brain wants to plan for next week when we’re back in class. I want to look at lesson plans, peruse education articles online, and organize my teaching files on my laptop.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt;">What I AM going to do this week, instead, is read fun books, play video games (Rocket League is calling my name), stretch my writing muscles again, stretch my physical muscles again (I haven’t exercised in an embarrassingly long time), crochet, play on my piano, and do all the things that I don’t have time to do during the school year. I might even clean and do laundry. But that’s at the bottom of the list.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Enjoy spring break if you're on it!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_BcoqZQ0mVQ/WMbi4JyP8eI/AAAAAAAABf8/dVojBz2y150sjxyBG7S2bWPTQHox-fizgCLcB/s1600/Spring-Break-Ecard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_BcoqZQ0mVQ/WMbi4JyP8eI/AAAAAAAABf8/dVojBz2y150sjxyBG7S2bWPTQHox-fizgCLcB/s1600/Spring-Break-Ecard.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Tw Cen MT"; panose-1:2 11 6 2 2 1 4 2 6 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 3 0;} @font-face {font-family:"American Typewriter"; panose-1:2 9 6 4 2 0 4 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610612625 25 0 0 273 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Tw Cen MT"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-fareast-font-family:"Tw Cen MT"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} --></style>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-61708600716964601242017-01-21T10:47:00.003-06:002017-01-21T10:56:00.466-06:00What the Twit??<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The inauguration is over. The Trump voters have spoken while the rest of us continue to speak. Across America, citizens are marching for their voice and the voice of others – immigrants, the Black Lives Matter movement, women for women’s rights, planned parenthood, access to birth control. While I don’t condone the violence that’s erupted over the last 48 hours, I do condone voice. Our voice as Americans is part of what makes us who we are as a nation. My fear is over the next four years, our voice is going to be slammed down at every opportunity. While the Trump administration can’t stop us from having a physical voice, they apparently can be more successful in stopping our virtual voice via social media, more specifically Twitter. The National Park Service has been banned from posting tweets as are all Department of the Interior bureaus. Posting anti-Trump tweets on a government site now that he’s President shouldn’t be allowed. I do get that. What I don’t get is a sweeping mandate stopping all Twitter activity until further notice. On one side, maybe it’s so proper training can be given to those in charge of the various Twitter accounts – “don’t post negative things about the President”. I really hope that’s the case because on the other side, the Trump administration is setting up a dangerous precedent for what would be a direct violation of freedom of speech from the very office that’s sworn to protect it.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;american typewriter&quot; , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-301361457202018822017-01-01T20:36:00.001-06:002017-01-01T20:36:54.029-06:002017 New Year's Resolutions<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love the beginning of a new year. Everything’s new and fresh. You get a chance at another start. Plus, I like making lists so it's my chance to update my resolutions list.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>Here's an edited version of my 2016 resolutions with a little thought into how I'm going to update them for 2017:<br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. 2016 - <i>Keep up with my resolutions.</i> Score! I did it. So for 2017, I’m keeping that resolution.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">2. 2016 - <i>Lose weight!</i> Well, this one is a little harder to gauge because somewhere between the move to Mom and Dad’s house and in the move out of Mom and Dad’s house into my condo, my scale has up and disappeared so I really don’t know how much I weigh. It’s actually been a bit liberating not knowing for sure how much I weigh and so this year’s resolution may be a bit updated. For 2017, I want to be sure I take care of myself – walk for the health benefits of it, do some light yoga for the health benefits of it. Eat well, but in moderation. If I happened to lose weight because of it, yay! If I don’t, then I’ll still feel healthy. I’m still not 100% sure I’m going to go out and buy a scale…</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">3. 2016 - <i>Fun read more!</i> I failed miserably at this one. I think I have read fewer books this year than I have in my entire life. So for 2017, I have my Goodreads book goal set to 100 books as you can see in the little box to the right there towards the bottom of the page.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">4. 2016 - <i>Manage my time better.</i> I feel like I did better some days with this one than others. I’m getting better at it, though. It’s been a slow process. For 2017, I’m going to continue to try and manage my time better, but forgive myself on the days when I don’t/can’t.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">5. 2016 - <i>Relax.</i> Let’s just say it’s a work-in-progress. I feel like my ability to relax correlates to my ability to manage my time. For 2017, I’ll just keep trying to relax more and forgive myself when I don’t.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now that I’ve edited my 2016 goals to match my 2017 goals, they need a little re-ordering.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Relax!</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Manage my time better.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Read more.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Take care of my body.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">5.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Keep up with my 2017 resolutions.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Done! I like keeping my resolutions to just five because if I add more to it, then they're less likely to get done and more likely to get lost in the business of the year. Now, off to work on item #1...</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9PR2KYf6vDg/WGm8Gu7p8TI/AAAAAAAABSk/yYPetC1zapwXwEgYDoxpB5E-DGPpfnFzgCLcB/s1600/cocoa%2Band%2Bcookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9PR2KYf6vDg/WGm8Gu7p8TI/AAAAAAAABSk/yYPetC1zapwXwEgYDoxpB5E-DGPpfnFzgCLcB/s320/cocoa%2Band%2Bcookies.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-53318354857997379992016-11-23T14:09:00.000-06:002016-11-23T14:09:55.200-06:00LabelsWe all come with labels. People are authors, accountants, book nerds, adrenaline junkies, Moms, Dads, sisters. For a long time, my labels were simple: I was a wife and a mother. Those days are so long gone now that they are turning into fuzzy memories. I've been re-labeled over the past few years and now I can say that I am still:<br /><br />1. a Mom. He's in the Army Reserve and has gone through so much and has come out on the other side a wonderful human.<br /><br />2. a writer. I still plug away at it when I can. I'm not a best-selling author, but I still love creating a world on paper.<br /><br />3. a bookworm. All I can hope for is that there's a huge library in heaven.<br /><br />4. a yarn nerd. That's an itch that will always be scratched with the help of acrylic.<br /><br />I can say that I am not:<br /><br />1. a student. Those days are thankfully behind me although I loved most of it.<br /><br />2. living like a student. Although, I'm still not too far from it right now.<br /><br />3. a wife. I'm still not sure what that means. I guess the joy of life is figuring that out as I go along.<br /><br />4. without a home. I have a great little place and I can spread out and I have bookcases and yarn and cool wooden floors.<br /><br />I can say that I am now:<br /><br />1. a teacher. That has given me more thrills than I can count. Even though I hate what public education has turned into and how it's viewed, I love my job. I love my school. I love my students. I love the feeling of going into the new week with a fresh start. I love the fact that I can smile most days and make most people smile with me.<br /><br />2. a college graduate. The first one in my immediate family. That gives me a lot of pride and the plus side is that it'll never be taken away.<br /><br />3. a girlfriend. That's such a weird name for a 43-year-old. But whatever. I love him and he loves me and it's just a label. I'm more concerned with what it represents. :)<br /><br />4. an Episcopalian. That's just so amusing to me. But I like that label. It fits everything that I am.<br /><br />5. &nbsp;a human. That sounds like it really should go without saying, but don't you some days NOT feel human? Like you are just floating through life and are disconnected from things? It's nice to be grounded and it doesn't take much to get that way.<br /><br />All that to say I'm thankful. This past year has brought about quite a few changes for me - some good, some bad, but turned out good, some I want to always remember, some I want to forget. Such is life. And it's a pretty good one right now.<br /><br /><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-1254692827193073352016-10-14T10:54:00.000-05:002016-10-14T10:54:26.671-05:00Fall BreakWhen I was at U of Memphis, we had a fall break. It usually consisted of two school days and a weekend. We always felt a bit robbed by that. Number one, fall break is supposed to be for the whole week and number two, it's not fair to count the weekends because those are freebie days anyway. Nevermind that growing up, I never had a fall break in school.<br /><br />Fast forward to this year. I'm currently enjoying a lazy, rainy Friday, the official end to my lovely long week of fall break. Now I know why we have fall break. The teachers need it as much as the students need it. Having a fall break has allowed me to slow down, regroup, and recharge. I was able to do a bit of cooking:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iosRXx52g2E/WAD92h3CULI/AAAAAAAABPg/rX-tarf2mek7_goUtx3d_YfBC4o28wy8QCLcB/s1600/14671250_10210849467580897_851089241453406014_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iosRXx52g2E/WAD92h3CULI/AAAAAAAABPg/rX-tarf2mek7_goUtx3d_YfBC4o28wy8QCLcB/s320/14671250_10210849467580897_851089241453406014_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I was able to do a bit of planning:&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4jc5C5Ct6IA/WAD98bSJEWI/AAAAAAAABPk/dqzJ6kB3zbkvKtvEvCOikKi2IYs3iR-CgCLcB/s1600/14712741_10210865975793592_2700894343338462794_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4jc5C5Ct6IA/WAD98bSJEWI/AAAAAAAABPk/dqzJ6kB3zbkvKtvEvCOikKi2IYs3iR-CgCLcB/s320/14712741_10210865975793592_2700894343338462794_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also was able to do some crocheting. I got one little special project done and I'm trying to finish up a long-overdue project. I didn't realize how little crocheting I've done since school has started. I still haven't been able to do as much reading as I wanted to, but that's okay because I was also able to just be. That's been the most important part of my fall break.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uGWgzcfUdhs/WAD-mnc9z7I/AAAAAAAABPo/RFgBCFMZxYkzbI0oyir7MewspljR2cLDQCLcB/s1600/quote-sometimes-i-sits-and-thinks-and-sometimes-i-just-sits-a-a-milne-40-20-72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uGWgzcfUdhs/WAD-mnc9z7I/AAAAAAAABPo/RFgBCFMZxYkzbI0oyir7MewspljR2cLDQCLcB/s320/quote-sometimes-i-sits-and-thinks-and-sometimes-i-just-sits-a-a-milne-40-20-72.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://www.azquotes.com/quote/402072</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I still have two more days (Saturday and Sunday) until the craziness of the second nine weeks begins, but you know those don't really count. Those are freebie days.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-54765749017786871882016-10-02T19:10:00.000-05:002016-10-14T10:56:32.893-05:00Fall Weekend!Something about fall energizes me. Summer has finally given up the ghost, taking the 90-degree temperatures and humidity-you-can-slice-through with it. Ferns and summer flowers on front porches are swapped out for pumpkins, mums, and Halloween skeletons. The a/c is turned off. Everything is pumpkin-spiced and apple-cidered. Football season is in full force. And the weekends turn into a flurry of outdoor activities.<br /><br />If I could define this past weekend in one word, it would be football. Friday night was the Houston vs Collierville game. I was torn on this one. My boyfriend's daughter is in the marching band for Houston and Collierville is my old school. In the end, Houston overpowered them:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--MesFRGKQDo/V_GSKMare2I/AAAAAAAABK8/X6Y1LLlJxaUS3Bv7z57FWhh2ElXCKhiVgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--MesFRGKQDo/V_GSKMare2I/AAAAAAAABK8/X6Y1LLlJxaUS3Bv7z57FWhh2ElXCKhiVgCLcB/s320/IMG_2643.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />And the fans charged the field, college football-style:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Og2gayruGu0/V_GSS6ZIzMI/AAAAAAAABLA/OCkM4AO5Ptctr3t7SNfJ2GX6Qpk06g5RACLcB/s1600/IMG_2642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Og2gayruGu0/V_GSS6ZIzMI/AAAAAAAABLA/OCkM4AO5Ptctr3t7SNfJ2GX6Qpk06g5RACLcB/s320/IMG_2642.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />On Saturday, we followed the Memphis Tiger caravan down to Oxford for the Tigers/Ole Miss game. This was my first experience tail-gating Ole Miss-style. I discovered money is apparently no object when it comes to parking:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AkJubYOn8Vs/V_GX5nSI9JI/AAAAAAAABL0/zFW2SPZ9BsIHeEHjSQ41OjcG2BY_jXfegCLcB/s1600/IMG_2652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AkJubYOn8Vs/V_GX5nSI9JI/AAAAAAAABL0/zFW2SPZ9BsIHeEHjSQ41OjcG2BY_jXfegCLcB/s320/IMG_2652.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also discovered Ole Miss tailgating is the same as being in a club pack to capacity. We muscled our way through the sea of Ole Miss red and found our first stop. The booth was already full of people, but we were able to make it inside and found our host and visited for a while. By the time we were able to find drinks and food, the booth had so many folks in it, I couldn't even turn around so we said our goodbyes and found my sister's booth on the other side which was a bit less like a club and more like a family affair. I can say this about Ole Miss, they know how to throw a party.</div><br />Inside the stadium, Ole Miss students and fans were everywhere. We were a bit outnumbered, but we had our cheering section and you know, Memphis fans:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/cRAaGqAAPyE/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cRAaGqAAPyE?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And Fedex did a fly-by for us. We're claiming them as Memphis Tigers fans. You can't have them, Ole Miss.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MbUkcMmp2yA/V_GX5RxDFfI/AAAAAAAABLw/M7VL4JOXAkc3HYiH6TafDHqD4A_d7VUgACLcB/s1600/IMG_2653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MbUkcMmp2yA/V_GX5RxDFfI/AAAAAAAABLw/M7VL4JOXAkc3HYiH6TafDHqD4A_d7VUgACLcB/s320/IMG_2653.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alas, in the end, we lost. We made mistakes, some small, some embarrassingly large, but I felt we did pretty good against a team that is SEC level (I still think the refs were closet Rebel fans). And we made an awesome play with that fake punt (that'll be something talked about for year).&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We followed the Tigers home.&nbsp;</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fCnvLrV_p2U/V_GX4gb-CrI/AAAAAAAABLs/Bi2mvoTtd4E9FjHi_NL3hD61v_66RcsugCLcB/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fCnvLrV_p2U/V_GX4gb-CrI/AAAAAAAABLs/Bi2mvoTtd4E9FjHi_NL3hD61v_66RcsugCLcB/s320/IMG_2657.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Memphis police officers were honored this morning in during the service at Saint John's Episcopal and we had red beans and rice for lunch in the PLC. I was too busy eating and yakking to get any pictures, but it was a good turnout.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had the Blessing of the Animals this afternoon at Saint John's.&nbsp;</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eVa07pt0QX8/V_GZoBZozaI/AAAAAAAABME/IhnitDmspnAsVIGsOTo9-0MLyf_bzZ9wgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eVa07pt0QX8/V_GZoBZozaI/AAAAAAAABME/IhnitDmspnAsVIGsOTo9-0MLyf_bzZ9wgCLcB/s320/IMG_2662.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristoff and Bryan</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pVUtQ0zuY9Q/V_GZrEUSYHI/AAAAAAAABMM/On1hyy3JNhILa47Pg9PAy-tsPLHEk5shgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pVUtQ0zuY9Q/V_GZrEUSYHI/AAAAAAAABMM/On1hyy3JNhILa47Pg9PAy-tsPLHEk5shgCLcB/s320/IMG_2664.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where one is good, three is even better!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8qk-ZH_z3F0/V_GZq2pi5QI/AAAAAAAABMI/G86LDszLzhwJ6AFrVX7FMiYpcQB33FUtACLcB/s1600/IMG_2665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8qk-ZH_z3F0/V_GZq2pi5QI/AAAAAAAABMI/G86LDszLzhwJ6AFrVX7FMiYpcQB33FUtACLcB/s320/IMG_2665.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristoff, trying to pretend he's not with us.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zun6kcuRBN4/V_GZuE3yOnI/AAAAAAAABMQ/QlBvEVrkF4QVmlBB9imQJCK4LihitxK1ACLcB/s1600/IMG_2668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zun6kcuRBN4/V_GZuE3yOnI/AAAAAAAABMQ/QlBvEVrkF4QVmlBB9imQJCK4LihitxK1ACLcB/s320/IMG_2668.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ever tried to get a dog to pose?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NKJyJxTSLTk/V_GZxvaAe7I/AAAAAAAABMY/cUFMjIEv2hoUcgay7oHivQdVXC-5fScegCLcB/s1600/IMG_2669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NKJyJxTSLTk/V_GZxvaAe7I/AAAAAAAABMY/cUFMjIEv2hoUcgay7oHivQdVXC-5fScegCLcB/s320/IMG_2669.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zm3LOHexpo8/V_GZurx4tcI/AAAAAAAABMU/0hZe6Tnijhw9A-ekDao2EnqJAn5hRlH-ACLcB/s1600/IMG_2671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zm3LOHexpo8/V_GZurx4tcI/AAAAAAAABMU/0hZe6Tnijhw9A-ekDao2EnqJAn5hRlH-ACLcB/s320/IMG_2671.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sniffing other dogs to see if they are friend-worthy.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJbq_hkBolA/V_GZyAvH7tI/AAAAAAAABMg/St7U9KIbpKIF_5kaPGcoL5CsTWQ9i8CHACLcB/s1600/IMG_2672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJbq_hkBolA/V_GZyAvH7tI/AAAAAAAABMg/St7U9KIbpKIF_5kaPGcoL5CsTWQ9i8CHACLcB/s320/IMG_2672.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama's boy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DeP0e5-oblM/V_GZyJICtWI/AAAAAAAABMc/6isT2n3OpUMgI9jH0Qs7uMcrzVGQdcskwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DeP0e5-oblM/V_GZyJICtWI/AAAAAAAABMc/6isT2n3OpUMgI9jH0Qs7uMcrzVGQdcskwCLcB/s320/IMG_2673.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think he was a squirrel in a former life.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d4yanKJJ9cU/V_GZ0TM420I/AAAAAAAABMk/3Aiy9Flr9FodKdCunUP_eS_ttRx9zXXoQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d4yanKJJ9cU/V_GZ0TM420I/AAAAAAAABMk/3Aiy9Flr9FodKdCunUP_eS_ttRx9zXXoQCLcB/s320/IMG_2675.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bet THIS ref would've favored the Memphis Tigers last night.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4WHVCnQjsp8/V_GZ1qBryNI/AAAAAAAABMo/3V8NQAsQcM4JrdXlVMShFRnWoMmem0FSQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4WHVCnQjsp8/V_GZ1qBryNI/AAAAAAAABMo/3V8NQAsQcM4JrdXlVMShFRnWoMmem0FSQCLcB/s320/IMG_2676.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Viciousness personified</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fRyvPvBVlFQ/V_GZ3zs4xRI/AAAAAAAABMw/RUjHuqkO2L4sO8VS-XXIpLs4x8UC1x3vACLcB/s1600/IMG_2678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fRyvPvBVlFQ/V_GZ3zs4xRI/AAAAAAAABMw/RUjHuqkO2L4sO8VS-XXIpLs4x8UC1x3vACLcB/s320/IMG_2678.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because what's a blessin' without a chicken?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CPo2oFQR5mI/V_GZ3AAA5kI/AAAAAAAABMs/rVgJIY0t4BY9y15HuH5uFOV6CXaQjKIAwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CPo2oFQR5mI/V_GZ3AAA5kI/AAAAAAAABMs/rVgJIY0t4BY9y15HuH5uFOV6CXaQjKIAwCLcB/s320/IMG_2683.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the blessing begins...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--eDMDp_aRaA/V_GZ4S9EbBI/AAAAAAAABM0/RcaoLJ_ehZ4t5V_i6yxJiDiat1GmCdpMwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--eDMDp_aRaA/V_GZ4S9EbBI/AAAAAAAABM0/RcaoLJ_ehZ4t5V_i6yxJiDiat1GmCdpMwCLcB/s320/IMG_2685.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think Kristoff has decided he likes Father Jay. Kristoff has good taste. :)</td></tr></tbody></table>This is the last week before fall break in the Shelby County School system.&nbsp;I'm taking some time to prep for the week, but I've been getting better at balancing school life and home life. I've enjoyed teaching and the students even though the work is very hard and there have been days when I'm frustrated with all of it, but I'm starting to take time out for myself in the evenings to recharge, making sure I get the important things done at school and leaving the evenings for light work at the most. The pace is still the equivalent of being on the Autobahn and I feel like I'm a 50-year-old Fiat getting burned by a Bugatti and my writing has suffered for it. I'm stuck in the mode of having five minutes to do anything in any given moment during the school day and that has had an effect on how I deal with things at home because it's hard to slow my mind down from that mad rush,&nbsp;but I'm learning to adjust and to make time in the evenings for fun things. My goal is to blog more, write more, read more, and crochet more. Those are my recharge activities and I need them. Plus, I want to be able to enjoy fall and the holidays. Life is too short to not enjoy each day as it comes.<br /><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Fall!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-2813744392941801762016-07-23T10:01:00.000-05:002016-07-23T10:01:17.446-05:00Meghan Trainor's "No"I really do love Meghan Trainor's music. I think she has a spunky way about her and her music reflects that same spunk. However, when I first heard her latest song, "No", I kept seeing an image pop up. Like most things, I cannot help what pops in my head and while I can control what comes out of my mouth most of the time, I couldn't resist sharing this one. I give you my graphic interpretation of "No":<br /><br /><i>My name is&nbsp;</i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/GqbDuUGlahsMcnEXO84tJ8kmO7K_J6tHACLcB/s1600/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/GqbDuUGlahsMcnEXO84tJ8kmO7K_J6tHACLcB/s320/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>My sign is</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/a9--4U0XgxQuFK7Oyj0pSByEal3xvRMXwCEw/s1600/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/a9--4U0XgxQuFK7Oyj0pSByEal3xvRMXwCEw/s320/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>My number is&nbsp;</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/a9--4U0XgxQuFK7Oyj0pSByEal3xvRMXwCEw/s1600/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyDz5Ec77k/V5OGY6aNR6I/AAAAAAAABIY/a9--4U0XgxQuFK7Oyj0pSByEal3xvRMXwCEw/s320/grumpy%2Bcat.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You're welcome.&nbsp;</div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-57929766163748296732016-07-11T12:04:00.000-05:002016-07-11T12:18:26.575-05:00Guns N' Roses Nashville 2016For those of us who are Generation X, Guns N' Roses calls up memories of a skinny Axl Rose slithering across the stage like a cobra, mesmerizing his prey with Slash creating magic with his guitar - complete with top hat, curly hair all in his face, and a cigarette popping out of what could only be his mouth. They were awesome. So it was a bit heart-breaking when they started having problems. Fast forward to 2016. They are BACK. Of course we were going. Road trip!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NYALE5n0u6k/V4PDJYy1zFI/AAAAAAAABFc/lZms3pSziNsJTS0L3_cNEvg7LgvjdazsgCLcB/s1600/On%2Bour%2Bway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NYALE5n0u6k/V4PDJYy1zFI/AAAAAAAABFc/lZms3pSziNsJTS0L3_cNEvg7LgvjdazsgCLcB/s320/On%2Bour%2Bway.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This was our first little trip together so we made a few stops during our Guns N' Roses weekend.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u>Day One</u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our first stop was at&nbsp;<a href="http://www.merridees.com/">Merridee's</a>&nbsp;in Franklin, TN. Franklin downtown is sort of like Anytown, USA. It's cute, it's quaint, and it's got tons of little shops. Some shops are new, some have been there for years. Merridee's is tucked away on Fourth Ave and serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We had lunch and it was fabulous! I highly recommend the curry chicken salad sandwich.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-minP7WHggFQ/V4PEqqjgqrI/AAAAAAAABFo/2nKdakK5H-8xQCddSo-puXHSVto_yK9DwCLcB/s1600/Meridees%2Bin%2BFranklin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-minP7WHggFQ/V4PEqqjgqrI/AAAAAAAABFo/2nKdakK5H-8xQCddSo-puXHSVto_yK9DwCLcB/s320/Meridees%2Bin%2BFranklin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next stop was dessert! We wanted to try another local place so we stopped at&nbsp;<a href="https://www.kilwins.com/">Kilwin's</a>. This little shop is another Franklin original. They've been around since the late 40s. I wish I had taken a photo of the shop itself, but you can click the link and take a look around. I can honestly say that is the best ice cream I've ever put in my mouth. We chatted with one of the workers while we ate for a few minutes and she let us try some of the salted caramel fudge. *drool*&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We made it to our hotel and got settled in. We had overheard one of the staff talking to a guest about good sit-down places to eat and he mentioned&nbsp;<a href="http://www.darfonsrestaurant.com/">Darfons</a>&nbsp;so we thought we would try it for dinner. Darfons is a neat little place - good food, great service, and a weird cross between up-scale and casual. If you want awesome food, but have rolled into town and don't have time to change, this is the place. They have a great wine list and their steaks make my mouth water now just thinking about them.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u>Day Two</u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u><br /></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a whole day to have some fun before the concert. We rummaged through the stack of brochures at the hotel and came across&nbsp;<a href="http://bellemeadeplantation.com/">Belle Meade</a>. We love old houses and history so we decided to check it out. We missed the first guided tour so we signed up for the next one which was $20 for a basic tour of the house. While we waited, we walked the rest of the grounds and viewed the smokehouse, the last of the slave quarters, the gardener's house, the mausoleum (the family had been moved and re-interred elsewhere), and a neat little nook where we could rest at a table underneath a magnolia tree and stay until the tour started. We had to take a picture of the front of the mansion. After a few takes ("Why can't I see the mansion?" "Your finger is in the way." Oops.), we got a good photo:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p7JJ8qPbQ6w/V4PPaRzJf3I/AAAAAAAABHo/4A9iOvhASrwxXozP9w5yPOqm1yQvWEV4wCLcB/s1600/IMG_1965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p7JJ8qPbQ6w/V4PPaRzJf3I/AAAAAAAABHo/4A9iOvhASrwxXozP9w5yPOqm1yQvWEV4wCLcB/s320/IMG_1965.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our tour guide was dressed in period clothing and was an encyclopedia on Belle Meade Plantation history. She pointed out the columns where the home had been fired upon during the Battle of Nashville in the Civil War. We could see the marks. Then, we wandered through the rooms, studying the portraits and other items placed around the house. The tour lasted about 45 minutes and at the end of it, we got to experience a free wine tasting. Out of four wines, we picked two as our favorites:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L96BIK7rm28/V4PJyN2mW3I/AAAAAAAABGM/0FHjjXkd3TU1SmAeagfAIJR5jBIHoE9HwCLcB/s1600/IMG_1967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L96BIK7rm28/V4PJyN2mW3I/AAAAAAAABGM/0FHjjXkd3TU1SmAeagfAIJR5jBIHoE9HwCLcB/s320/IMG_1967.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9tVEQeFhIno/V4PJ7bHPkkI/AAAAAAAABGQ/MhA50hDE0W8XiuH2318hxTs_vwVVij41gCLcB/s1600/IMG_1969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9tVEQeFhIno/V4PJ7bHPkkI/AAAAAAAABGQ/MhA50hDE0W8XiuH2318hxTs_vwVVij41gCLcB/s320/IMG_1969.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had to have these in our lives so we bought a bottle of each.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For dinner, we tried another place that isn't native to Nashville, but still pretty cool - <a href="http://www.rainforestcafe.com/">Rainforest Cafe</a>. We had about an hour wait, but it was in the&nbsp;<a href="http://www.simon.com/mall/opry-mills">Opry Mills Mall</a>&nbsp;so we just wandered around until we were called. Y'all remember Showbiz Pizza Place? That's what Rainforest Cafe reminds me of. When were seated, we were surrounded by automated gorillas, tigers, and a very curious elephant whose trunk kept swinging a little too close to my food plate (y'all really need to feed these animals more often). They have a gift shop, too. I have a cute little coffee cup to add to my collection:&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PZ3wiExN8PE/V4PLnTslhXI/AAAAAAAABGc/E8B2guS-3Yw-LKg7O2-V9GJjJmm5VdU9wCLcB/s1600/coffee%2Bcup%2Bfrom%2BRainforest%2Bcafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PZ3wiExN8PE/V4PLnTslhXI/AAAAAAAABGc/E8B2guS-3Yw-LKg7O2-V9GJjJmm5VdU9wCLcB/s320/coffee%2Bcup%2Bfrom%2BRainforest%2Bcafe.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then it was time for the concert! The venue was&nbsp;<a href="http://www.titansonline.com/stadium/">Nissan Stadium</a>&nbsp;and around 55,000 people were expected to attend. Parking was at a premium and the cheapest we found was $20 for a little place tucked away close to other businesses. We got our t-shirts -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VqaLfOxMsWw/V4PMxF5hFgI/AAAAAAAABGk/6e2Vdk0_tpwLMPU9eQ_o1sOVr_I-gSbOwCLcB/s1600/13606446_10209963426870433_1353261164464410415_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VqaLfOxMsWw/V4PMxF5hFgI/AAAAAAAABGk/6e2Vdk0_tpwLMPU9eQ_o1sOVr_I-gSbOwCLcB/s320/13606446_10209963426870433_1353261164464410415_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- and we were ready to go.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1W_92nS3ifQ/V4PPik80NcI/AAAAAAAABHs/142rLPnYonk3V3iHUpqCUl8Hi516oMpigCKgB/s1600/13645312_10209963426910434_7386866747742864874_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1W_92nS3ifQ/V4PPik80NcI/AAAAAAAABHs/142rLPnYonk3V3iHUpqCUl8Hi516oMpigCKgB/s320/13645312_10209963426910434_7386866747742864874_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the most amusing things we saw were the guys sitting in front of us. This drunk fan was so happy to see Guns N' Roses that he had to fistbump everyone around him, repeatedly. The concert started and it was just like the old days with the exception of the guys being a little older and Slash nixing the cigarette. I felt like I should've been apologizing to them for the humidity. Those poor guys were dripping within minutes, but they played for over 2-1/2 hours. And guess who paid us a little visit? Steven Adler! He came on and played through a couple of the songs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4iVVB8PzMdA/V4PN3O4rhJI/AAAAAAAABHg/Bfu62aG2Ul8CojT87vlSxFk-D8Qr4jPKgCLcB/s1600/13667831_10209977158733721_1432106106412522015_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4iVVB8PzMdA/V4PN3O4rhJI/AAAAAAAABHg/Bfu62aG2Ul8CojT87vlSxFk-D8Qr4jPKgCLcB/s320/13667831_10209977158733721_1432106106412522015_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uh9A3NLX9EI/V4PN2O2ZgOI/AAAAAAAABHA/xZvSnzIH1dEQyWF9fh3SFGSiTQQ6MZ3FwCLcB/s1600/13528824_10206678288059131_466555487082490105_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uh9A3NLX9EI/V4PN2O2ZgOI/AAAAAAAABHA/xZvSnzIH1dEQyWF9fh3SFGSiTQQ6MZ3FwCLcB/s320/13528824_10206678288059131_466555487082490105_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DxuLyDUpK0Q/V4PN2EVsqpI/AAAAAAAABG4/up9_i06n8V8PH39MzqzqH-d791tFGLOKgCLcB/s1600/13590233_10206678286259086_1947864106495821491_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DxuLyDUpK0Q/V4PN2EVsqpI/AAAAAAAABG4/up9_i06n8V8PH39MzqzqH-d791tFGLOKgCLcB/s320/13590233_10206678286259086_1947864106495821491_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-29SW_wY_JmI/V4PN2FplZnI/AAAAAAAABG0/5FRgUZzUw-UfmL9sGAkNaol-MZjL2IPVwCLcB/s1600/13590408_10206678287779124_1525572548132068371_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-29SW_wY_JmI/V4PN2FplZnI/AAAAAAAABG0/5FRgUZzUw-UfmL9sGAkNaol-MZjL2IPVwCLcB/s320/13590408_10206678287779124_1525572548132068371_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNeRnK7fhGM/V4PN2VPO2fI/AAAAAAAABG8/qlbTKhrTY5s8RqbQBOTAdHjg982V0cqvQCLcB/s1600/13615439_10206678288379139_3935719773813814288_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNeRnK7fhGM/V4PN2VPO2fI/AAAAAAAABG8/qlbTKhrTY5s8RqbQBOTAdHjg982V0cqvQCLcB/s320/13615439_10206678288379139_3935719773813814288_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RT-yjDkIpa8/V4PN2eRatVI/AAAAAAAABHE/IXYrrcZGuWUFTSuY8chctayoa4iRzhzqACLcB/s1600/13620187_10206678286139083_2239754388234880393_n%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RT-yjDkIpa8/V4PN2eRatVI/AAAAAAAABHE/IXYrrcZGuWUFTSuY8chctayoa4iRzhzqACLcB/s320/13620187_10206678286139083_2239754388234880393_n%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyKThHmNLSI/V4PN2l7dApI/AAAAAAAABHM/qzQjS04hGMAgam9-YYKUjj7Ws5OHoWvfwCLcB/s1600/13626430_10206678287139108_5647908669859746525_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyKThHmNLSI/V4PN2l7dApI/AAAAAAAABHM/qzQjS04hGMAgam9-YYKUjj7Ws5OHoWvfwCLcB/s320/13626430_10206678287139108_5647908669859746525_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fNFSv1bWTaw/V4PN2j-ZuII/AAAAAAAABHQ/nt_-zgquTWM0_Lpkjem-yoWeuzPWefjywCLcB/s1600/13626545_10206678288579144_124500739430476625_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fNFSv1bWTaw/V4PN2j-ZuII/AAAAAAAABHQ/nt_-zgquTWM0_Lpkjem-yoWeuzPWefjywCLcB/s320/13626545_10206678288579144_124500739430476625_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnzeM6B7_d4/V4PN27SJsAI/AAAAAAAABHU/itqjsMgLV5YIOuzEPns9SZMMmHWexwTdgCLcB/s1600/13631440_10206678287379114_8510686771452536480_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnzeM6B7_d4/V4PN27SJsAI/AAAAAAAABHU/itqjsMgLV5YIOuzEPns9SZMMmHWexwTdgCLcB/s320/13631440_10206678287379114_8510686771452536480_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BxzL3b7FNk0/V4PN23DXFQI/AAAAAAAABHY/hvjg-m0w7C4T6xUKBTNY3Dhv6mezIEXuQCLcB/s1600/13645259_10206678287019105_2972912953013902897_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BxzL3b7FNk0/V4PN23DXFQI/AAAAAAAABHY/hvjg-m0w7C4T6xUKBTNY3Dhv6mezIEXuQCLcB/s320/13645259_10206678287019105_2972912953013902897_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--FzeI8pW6HI/V4PN2-BxfQI/AAAAAAAABHc/a9xBWxAzzn0UZI4mnoUxnoyU18ELu6WAQCLcB/s1600/13654284_10206678288899152_1511351862845169120_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--FzeI8pW6HI/V4PN2-BxfQI/AAAAAAAABHc/a9xBWxAzzn0UZI4mnoUxnoyU18ELu6WAQCLcB/s320/13654284_10206678288899152_1511351862845169120_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><u>Day Three</u><br /><u><br /></u>Needless to say, we didn't wake up early the next morning, but on our way home, we had to make one more stop:&nbsp;<a href="http://thepharmacynashville.com/">The Pharmacy</a>. This little hipster place has AWESOME food. They're known for their phosphate sodas (we got chocolate and maraschino cherry). AND we managed to somewhat beat the crowd. We only had about a ten minute wait.<br /><br />So the Nashville trip was a success. We came back home with our Guns N' Roses fix, a few souvenirs, and enough food in us to last a few days. Thanks, Nashville! Until the next rockin' concert!<br /><br /><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-67032003652355994962016-07-07T10:08:00.000-05:002016-07-07T10:08:47.566-05:00New Chapter!As most of my friends already know, I enjoy new chapters in my life. This next chapter is a two-fer for me - new job and new place. I'm now a 10th grade English teacher in the Memphis school system and I've moving back into a Memphis zip code. I couldn't be more thrilled.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8yqvq2L4eFQ/V35s-caPMtI/AAAAAAAABEw/EASZHYFeDNk5VQpFHvoQUnQx4JMBxYb5ACLcB/s1600/finally%2Bmoving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8yqvq2L4eFQ/V35s-caPMtI/AAAAAAAABEw/EASZHYFeDNk5VQpFHvoQUnQx4JMBxYb5ACLcB/s320/finally%2Bmoving.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I don't like packing or moving, but I sure do like unpacking and setting up. It's like Christmas all over again, finding cherished items and putting them in their new little place.<br /><br />My hope is to be done today so I can start getting plans together for my classroom this fall. I'm so excited!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z1WG9mmb86s/V35sGO7UG3I/AAAAAAAABEk/IaWAXz2keEQ2ZwzVUbOXWdR9Z5Ib6aquQCLcB/s1600/This%2Bis%2Bmy%2Bexcited%2Bface.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z1WG9mmb86s/V35sGO7UG3I/AAAAAAAABEk/IaWAXz2keEQ2ZwzVUbOXWdR9Z5Ib6aquQCLcB/s320/This%2Bis%2Bmy%2Bexcited%2Bface.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I get to think of ways to decorate and projects I can introduce to help my students learn. I know I'll probably change my tune come November when I'm about ready to face plant my desk:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdBUGnk7LGY/V35suLVB3QI/AAAAAAAABEo/iUXEzF8myjYRUvSodRiph1MhF1VcUrfxwCLcB/s1600/I%2Bwill%2Bnap%2Bhere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdBUGnk7LGY/V35suLVB3QI/AAAAAAAABEo/iUXEzF8myjYRUvSodRiph1MhF1VcUrfxwCLcB/s320/I%2Bwill%2Bnap%2Bhere.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But for now, I'm enjoying the fact that I'm finally a teacher with my own classroom.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The condo is fabulous. It's two bedrooms, two baths and it has hardwood floors! Granted, they're actually laminate, but still. I have tons of storage space and the best part? I have a washer and dryer INSIDE. I've spent the last six years on a college campus lugging my laundry basket to the campus laundromat. Here, I just walk two feet. No muss, no fuss. The neighbors are awesome - very friendly and helpful. The courtyard outside my condo is beautiful. They cut the grass regularly and the landscaping is so pretty.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love being so close to everything again. Restaurants, grocery stores, shops are all within a few minutes' drive so my little Beetle is going to love the short hops.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm sure I'll be sharing more adventures now that I'm settled into my own little place again and have the time to write.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy Thursday!&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rel3AkFJhQw/V35wDYa45sI/AAAAAAAABFE/LcBzZfyynxMe5eOABtRvrEqW5SG-NOaVwCLcB/s1600/good%2Bmorning%2Bcup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rel3AkFJhQw/V35wDYa45sI/AAAAAAAABFE/LcBzZfyynxMe5eOABtRvrEqW5SG-NOaVwCLcB/s320/good%2Bmorning%2Bcup.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-62079486303402979522016-06-10T12:36:00.002-05:002016-06-10T12:36:34.862-05:00Memphis Sea of Blue<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yesterday, Memphis paid tribute to fallen Officer Verdell Smith.&nbsp;<span style="line-height: 107%;">Bryan and I got a chance to see the Sea of Blue drive from Hope Pres to the downtown precinct last night. We were driving eastbound on Poplar Ave when we saw a firetruck and a few cars pulled over. We circled around and parked. Bryan backed the car in while I talked briefly with a fireman. We agreed that while it was sad to have to have a Sea of Blue, it was very touching to see so many Memphians support the police officers. We waited silently as the sun peacefully set over the Memphis horizon. The folks who had pulled over were watching, their patience giving a hint at what were about to witness. Southbound traffic on I-240 had almost stopped minus a few stragglers while northbound traffic had started slowing down. We could see everyone who had begun to stop on the westbound side on Poplar Ave on the bridge:</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P9tVSpghFdk/V1rmDvHsGpI/AAAAAAAABCQ/NPm8c3t31VIWioH8pScJBThxewn8Gs7SgCLcB/s1600/IMG_1783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P9tVSpghFdk/V1rmDvHsGpI/AAAAAAAABCQ/NPm8c3t31VIWioH8pScJBThxewn8Gs7SgCLcB/s320/IMG_1783.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Then, in the distance, we saw the beginnings of the procession. A true sea of blue was heading our way.&nbsp;</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">As they got closer, we began to see details – Memphis police officers, West Memphis officers, Southaven officers, Germantown officers, and an endless line of police officers from places we couldn’t identify. All had their lights on and their sirens chirping. They were using their loud speakers to thank those of us standing silently in tribute to Officer Smith and in support for those still living who risk their lives daily so we might stay safe. One asked for prayer. The firefighters were now standing at attention on top of their trucks, saluting the procession.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">We watched as vehicle after vehicle drove under the bridge. By this time, traffic on Poplar was almost at a standstill. I could see people who had pulled into businesses bordering I-240 in order to be able to watch the officers drive by. Thirty minutes went by before the last of the vehicles straggled past. The solemnness we experienced went beyond the tribute paid to Officer Smith. It extended into the realization of what our Memphis officers do for us day in and day out on our streets and the price they pay for it.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We complain a lot as a society and we have the right to do that. We complain when we get pulled over for speeding, or when we hear about the corruption that seems to have permeated the Memphis police department. We should always keep in mind, though, that while misconduct exists in our legal system, honor also exists in that same system. We have officers who take their vows seriously and will do whatever it takes to ensure we are protected in a city that doesn’t have a reputation for always being safe. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TEI2sjslIbg/V1rnoW8vafI/AAAAAAAABCg/4wjUIM1W0YcelIsyEbQyWhwPpuIuXaBdwCLcB/s1600/IMG_1784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TEI2sjslIbg/V1rnoW8vafI/AAAAAAAABCg/4wjUIM1W0YcelIsyEbQyWhwPpuIuXaBdwCLcB/s320/IMG_1784.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I uploaded a video I took of the procession. Please pardon my video-taking skills. I had been holding my phone up to video everything, but I wasn’t looking through the lens so occasionally it kind of meanders off depending on what was going on at the time. I did pan over at some point to catch the sight of the firefighters saluting the officers. I thought I had gotten the entire motorcade, but after we got back into the car, we saw a few more.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/TXwqMLsw0u0">Sea of Blue for Officer Verdell Smith</a></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-41640388170184589412016-03-08T08:36:00.000-06:002016-03-08T08:36:11.498-06:00Love is...<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was sent to me this morning and if it doesn't make you crack a smile, then you need a hug:</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">From “Dear Annie” today – a series of quotes from children about what love means to them….</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne, and they go out and smell each other.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. &nbsp;So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. &nbsp;That’s love.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. &nbsp;You know that your name is safe in their mouth.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when you go out to eat and you give somebody all of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when someone hurts you. &nbsp;And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when Mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him to make sure it tastes OK.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening the presents and listen.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t love you anymore. &nbsp;Bt then you get surprised because they not only still love you, they love you even more.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-My mommy loves me more than anybody. &nbsp;You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep every night.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty, and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is when a puppy licks your face, even after you left him alone all day.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-You shouldn’t say I love you unless you mean it. &nbsp;But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. &nbsp;People forget.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">-Love is what makes you smile even when you are tired.</span>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-10061661907035565782016-02-15T15:01:00.000-06:002016-02-15T15:19:05.864-06:00Meeting the Family<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Unique sets of challenges exist for those of us who are divorced and re-enter the dating scene. Many involve our kids, but I faced one this past weekend: meeting the parents.&nbsp;</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5_5yHPKT57E/VsI664K4MQI/AAAAAAAAA-8/7y0TPWcizsA/s1600/brace-yourselves-meme-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5_5yHPKT57E/VsI664K4MQI/AAAAAAAAA-8/7y0TPWcizsA/s320/brace-yourselves-meme-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Immediately, I was thrown back in time to my 19-year-old self. Would they like me? Am I dressed too casually for dinner? Is my lipstick smeared? Will being a redhead work for me or against me? Should I have that second glass of wine or will I look too much like an alcoholic? And what in God’s name will happen if I DO drink that second glass of wine?&nbsp;</span></span><span style="line-height: 17.12px;">Which fork goes with the salad again?&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 17.12px;">The setting was a casual family dinner at his mother’s house. I was to meet his mother, his step-father, his brother (Marine *gasp*), and his sister-in-law (Army *double-gasp*). I briefly debated on whether or not I should update my will and check on my life insurance policy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 17.12px;">Everyone was there when we arrived and I was offered a glass of wine which I gratefully accepted, mentally reminding myself that it was inappropriate to slug it back like a tequila shot.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g7UFx9GirIU/VsI7Q2XGOqI/AAAAAAAAA_A/2OvJ8fVW0H0/s1600/glass%2Bof%2Bwine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g7UFx9GirIU/VsI7Q2XGOqI/AAAAAAAAA_A/2OvJ8fVW0H0/s320/glass%2Bof%2Bwine.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://i.imgur.com/4NjX4y7.jpg</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">The conversation was pretty tame at first – we talked about where I worked, what was going on with them, etc. Then the brother dropped the first bomb:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So what are your political views? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Suddenly, I couldn’t remember a single political/social issue over the last one hundred years if you had tied me up and tried to torture it out of me. My face resembled this, I think: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b1SVyP18cmI/VsI1gpvJsSI/AAAAAAAAA98/kitZ_-9zzW0/s1600/gollum1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b1SVyP18cmI/VsI1gpvJsSI/AAAAAAAAA98/kitZ_-9zzW0/s320/gollum1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">&nbsp;</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They’re Republican. I’m a weird hybrid of Democrat/Republican. I have somewhat liberal views on a few issues and somewhat conservative views on others. But suddenly, I was placed in a position where I had to pick: Am I A) Democrat or am I B) Republican? Can I pick C? There is a “C” choice, right? What issue could I possibly talk about that wouldn't A) stun everyone into awkward silence or B) involve me getting unceremoniously kicked out the front door? I stumbled over a few things and finally came up with the Planned Parenthood issue. Suffice it to say, that turned out to be a pretty safe subject and the brother decided I was Libertarian. I was good with that. And to be honest, if I have to be forced into a political box, Libertarian is as good of a box as any for who I am. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tUurrLIP1NU/VsI5T1jelvI/AAAAAAAAA-k/6vt6CW2kGaM/s1600/Libertarian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tUurrLIP1NU/VsI5T1jelvI/AAAAAAAAA-k/6vt6CW2kGaM/s320/Libertarian.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f4/f5/ed/f4f5ed1d072cb51a3ad078804d8ffdd7.jpg</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">That bullet dodged, we sat down for dinner and I was faced with another dilemma – the food. I had been asked prior to the dinner whether or not I liked lamb. I figured, “Does a bear poop in the woods?” would probably not be an appropriate answer to be forwarded to them so I settled for something along the lines of, “why yes, I do!” Fast-forward to sitting down for dinner. I saw two forks. Holy cow. Which one do I use? I dug around in the cobwebs of my brain and remembered someone telling me once that you used the silverware in the order that the food was served so that’s what I went with.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZLOPWQH2m0/VsI5sdgtRnI/AAAAAAAAA-s/yJU-WAw7n6Q/s1600/use%2Bthe%2Bfork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZLOPWQH2m0/VsI5sdgtRnI/AAAAAAAAA-s/yJU-WAw7n6Q/s1600/use%2Bthe%2Bfork.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Then there was the issue of condiments. Mint sauce. What the hell do I eat that with? It looked like green Jell-O. Can I have some Cool Whip with that? I passed.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">After that, dinner was pretty uneventful until the next bomb was dropped. This time, it was by the step-father: So what are your experiences with guns? I almost choked. Guns? Well, I can shoot a pretty mean Nerf gun.&nbsp;</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJKqarsCxMU/VsI2YGAbWMI/AAAAAAAAA-E/DzQYEIynO-U/s1600/nerf%2Bgun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJKqarsCxMU/VsI2YGAbWMI/AAAAAAAAA-E/DzQYEIynO-U/s320/nerf%2Bgun.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">https://i.ytimg.com/vi/upJnoFB54KA/hqdefault.jpg</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Oh wait. You mean, GUNS. Let’s see – my son showed me how to shoot the gun he used for trap shooting, my ex father-in-law showed me how to shoot his pellet rifle.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9rd6xNkhIMM/VsJAbN3ygzI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/ZvSkt7Wyk2I/s1600/shooting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9rd6xNkhIMM/VsJAbN3ygzI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/ZvSkt7Wyk2I/s320/shooting.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kiddo showing me how to shoot</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Then he asked, what about pistols? WTF? Is there going to be a dual? Am I going to have to fight for my boyfriend? Why, no, I’ve never shot a pistol. I couldn’t identify any brand names of pistols. I think I flunked that test.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jln1VknUJY8/VsI2-TAhdaI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/WmJYQDtY-ik/s1600/you%2527ll%2Bshoot%2Byour%2Beye%2Bout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jln1VknUJY8/VsI2-TAhdaI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/WmJYQDtY-ik/s320/you%2527ll%2Bshoot%2Byour%2Beye%2Bout.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://www.quickmeme.com/img/60/60e115073a78b883b0f71a125f5c4314c882109ae88f871397bbeafa611b4121.jpg</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Then I hit the jackpot. The mother reads. Like READS. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that I had different political beliefs and couldn’t shoot a pistol to save my life. I could talk about Clive Cussler and the Highlander series.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Suddenly, we were all like:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x493qdXj6sE/VsI4lfTZyNI/AAAAAAAAA-c/aFC7iL63Ckw/s1600/meme2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x493qdXj6sE/VsI4lfTZyNI/AAAAAAAAA-c/aFC7iL63Ckw/s320/meme2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I was saved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Keep in mind that this is a tongue-in-cheek recount of my evening. The family members I met were wonderful and very laid back and I really enjoyed meeting and visiting with them and look forward to many more pleasant visits. This story is my stream of consciousness, the goofy thoughts that popped in my head as the night progressed and my silly reflections afterwards. If you're a said family member, I promise I bathe daily, I brush my teeth, I can hold a job, I don't eat small children, and I vote. I also have little control over where my mind goes as you can see from this blog post. My goofiness has no bounds. My sense of humor is weird, off-beat, and I definitely march to my own little beat in life. Be warned.</span></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-57924890023719541932016-01-18T13:09:00.000-06:002016-01-18T13:23:07.015-06:00Empowering Myself<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During the spring before I went back to college in 2009, I was working at a place where I wasn’t very happy. I had gotten out of a bad relationship, I had moved back in with my parents, I had been laid off (on good terms for those employers who have found my blog) from my job due to the auto industry tanking, and basically felt like I was back at square one. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. About halfway through the spring, a work colleague said something that later proved to be very profound to me. She said I had no focus. At the time, we were in a heated argument so when she said this, I didn’t think of it much beyond the fact that I wasn’t going to pay any attention to anything said by someone I didn’t particularly care for. I started thinking about it later, though, and realized – albeit grudgingly – that she was right. I had no focus. I had no plans, no goals. I was floating through my self-inflicted pity party of a life. I needed to change.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I applied to the University of Memphis. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once I started on that roller coaster, I started to panic a little bit. I didn’t feel I was a good student. I hadn’t been to school in years. I was OLD – at least by college student standards. It didn’t help that my former romantic partner got wind of what I was doing and promptly said, “If you get a college degree, no guy will ever want to marry you.” I don’t remember what I actually told him, but I’m sure it probably resembled a verbal response representing this:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4_6aA3vdi4/Vp03BPo_uyI/AAAAAAAAA9M/ttuvovKvv1A/s1600/Johnny%2BCash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4_6aA3vdi4/Vp03BPo_uyI/AAAAAAAAA9M/ttuvovKvv1A/s1600/Johnny%2BCash.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The words stung, though, as archaic as they sounded. What if I don’t make it? What if I joined the statistics of those who started college and never finished? The endless stream of what-ifs floated around in my head relentlessly that summer. The ugly words said only added to the mountain of self-doubt I had built. I almost backed out completely.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I did start college that fall. And I not only passed my classes, I excelled. I graduated with honors and successfully completed a master’s program afterwards. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I post this for a couple of reasons. First, it’s nice to remind myself of where I came from and I feel it’s important to always reflect on where we’ve been. I’m sure I’ll be coming back to this post in the future when I need a confidence booster. Second, I cannot count how many friends, friends of friends, and women I don’t even know who are fighting that same battle of being in a place where they know they need to make a change, but are too fearful to take that first step. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to want to run back to familiarity. It’s okay to want to quit before you ever get started. Do it anyway. Pushing through the fear will be one of the bravest things you’ll do. And if a divorced 36-year-old single mom could do it, anyone can.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;courier new&quot;;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-6718945078664912252016-01-13T10:08:00.003-06:002016-01-13T10:12:21.274-06:00I'm Not Ready<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of us go through life in a series of I’m-not-ready moments. “I’m not ready to grow up.” “I’m not ready to leave my friends.” “I’m not ready to get married.” “I’m not ready for my kids to grow up.” “I’m not ready for a relationship.” “I’m not ready to quit.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Relatively speaking, my life has gone through a series of those I’m-not-ready moments the past year. That feeling of initial panic following the thought, “I’m not ready…”, has almost become a familiar friend. Life has a way of barreling forward whether you want it to or not. Whether you’re ready to or not. But I didn’t feel ready. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Last night, I was driving to the hospital to visit a friend and I saw the moonrise. A massive piece of golden cheese thrust in cosmic shadow with the exception of a perfectly formed yellow crescent. The sunlight reflecting off of that side of the moon was the same sunlight reflecting somewhere on the other side of the globe, welcoming a new day of “I’m-not-ready” for some while also welcoming a new day of “I’ll-help-you-through” for others. It reminded me that I’m not alone in this world. Someone, somewhere, is going through the same thing I’m going through, the same emotions, the same fear. But we also share something else – friends who are willing to help us through. Friends who will do whatever it takes to make sure we’re okay. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Suddenly I felt a little more ready. &nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-59740633276356307622015-12-30T10:21:00.002-06:002015-12-30T10:24:02.842-06:00New Year's ResolutionsEvery year I make a list of New Year's Resolutions. Sometimes I keep them, sometimes I don't. I still enjoy making them, though. There's something about the new year that screams fresh new start and this year I'm all about making a fresh new start. I've found myself entering the new year single, equipped with a master's degree, and employed. All three are pretty big changes so it'll be interesting to see how 2016 plays out for me.<br /><br />So! Here are my New Year's Resolutions for 2016:<br /><br />1. Keep up with my resolutions. I always manage to lose my resolutions and then can't remember what they are which probably means I didn't keep them.<br /><br />2. Lose weight! I think this is always on my list. These days I'm more about being healthy than losing weight, but at the moment, they're one and the same. I need to get about 20 pounds off of me.<br /><br />3. Fun read more! You would think I read all the time, but in reality, I just don't have the time which brings me to...<br /><br />4. Manage my time better. I'm now working full-time so my days are full which leaves little time to waste when I leave work for the day. My goal is to figure out ways to use my time wisely.<br /><br />5. Relax. I joke that my Dad is wound up tighter than a 50-cent watch when in reality, we both are. I tend to get wound up about things instead of &nbsp;just letting things be. I have a childhood friend who can successfully do that. His personality is so laid back and every time I talk with him, I feel the tenseness just leave my body. He has a wonderful outlook on life and never seems to stress. I can chat with him for five minutes and I instantly feel better about things. He just goes with the flow and has a good time. THAT is my goal.<br /><br />So there they are. Out in public and on the Internet so I should have an easier time keeping New Year's Resolution #1. Happy New Year's, everybody!<br /><br /><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-4339500933822203992015-11-16T05:51:00.004-06:002015-11-16T05:52:44.964-06:00ParisOver the last few days, the world has mourned the Paris attacks. I've been silently watching the events unfold. ISIS is as organized as a beefed-up, world-wide mafia and that has many people uneasy. No one knows where they will strike next.<br /><br />My Facebook feed has been full of reactions. Many have changed their profile picture to a French flag overlay, showing solidarity with a country who showed solidarity with us when we were attacked September 11, 2001. Others prefer not to do that, citing the many other countries who have suffered at the hands of ISIS and feeling that showing solidarity with one country shows disregard for the others. Some people are publicly praying, some people are itching to put their military uniform back on and give ISIS what-for, and others are simply trying to deal with a world that has shrunk through social media, allowing us to see in real-time the horrors that we as humanity are capable of.<br /><br />As an American, safely ensconced in my little home, I have no idea of what victims of terrorism go through. I have no idea what it feels like to constantly live under the fear of bomb sirens, automatic gunfire, and worry that at any moment, men with guns will come bursting through my front door, annihilating anyone standing in their way. It's hard to imagine the shock at being in a sports arena or a concert hall, only for it to explode, killing the people sitting next to me. I can't understand it, I can't know first-hand. I'm not able to don an armed forces uniform and exact revenge. I can't physically comfort those who have lost loved ones. I can't save the prisoners who are doomed to be beheaded any given day.<br /><br />But I can pray.<br /><br />And I can let them know through this post that they have the prayers, the love, and the thoughts of one little American who wishes she could do more.<br /><br />O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; united us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.<br /><i><br /></i><i>Book of Common Prayer</i>, Prayer for the Human Family, p. 815Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-26421154749310423062015-09-12T14:32:00.000-05:002015-09-12T14:32:19.664-05:00I Smell FallThe windows are all open in my townhouse and the only sounds are the sounds of the wind rustling through the trees and the gurgle of water in my fish tank. It's quiet. It's peaceful. It's a little reminder that it's okay and necessary to just sit and be.<br /><br />I haven't taken much time for myself this last month. I hit the ground running at the beginning of August, just days after my final day as a graduate assistant. Orientation day. Professors, PowerPoints, new vocabulary, teacher candidates, university supervisors. Pre-service week. People standing in front of me with more PowerPoints and more educational vocabulary to learn. Teachers sitting next to me who have been teaching two years, twenty years, more years than they care to admit, all here to learn. Lunches with new colleagues. A whole new set of faces to learn, to familiarize myself with. Learn. Learn. Learn. First week of school. New faces to learn. 15- and 16-year-olds. Confident, not so confident, funny, angry, sad, hungry, bored, mature, immature, ready to learn, not ready to learn. Lesson plans, pre-service instructive mentor teachers, lunches where you cram your food in and greet students for your next class between gulps of hot tea. Quick breaks between classes where you get to speak to adults for three minutes, sharing quick zingers that only teachers would get. Early mornings where there's only time for a shower and a quick breakfast. Coffee has swapped from being leisurely enjoyed in my favorite coffee mug to being quickly gulped down during planning period where I'm learning to develop plans at a fast pace. Plans that are carefully laid out are thrown to the wind on a regular basis due to interruptions - the Marine guy who would like to speak with the class about ROTC, the student council members who want to talk about what's coming up this year, the office needs this student, that student. Pardon the interruption, but can you send your teacher candidate to the office to meet with their university supervisor? How many students today have gone on the field trip? Ms. so-and-so is coming in today to talk about colleges. No planning necessary for that day. Wait, she went on the field trip. Looks like a writing day is in store for the students. Today is club day - only half a class period will be available to teach. I am learning to roll with the punches, to prepare for anything, to over-plan, to not sweat the small stuff, to be sure not a second goes by where students have nothing to do. Plan for the interruptions, plan for the short days, plan for the regular days, plan for the days that were supposed to be long and are now short, plan for the days that were supposed to be short and are now long. Plan, plan, plan. Plan for the edTPA video-taping, plan for Task 1, Task 2, Task 3. Plan for the activity due for class. Plan for graduation coming up in a few months. My plans are in my head, scratched out on notebook paper, and entered into the computer.<br /><br />For now, I'm sitting. Enjoying the breeze coming through my front window. Enjoying the gurgle coming from my fish tank. Leisurely drinking coffee from my favorite cup, the mocha scent idly wafting through the air, the crisp, clean air drifting through my windows, quietly reminding me that fall is just around the corner.Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-30723999649943995692015-07-29T20:22:00.001-05:002015-07-29T20:22:17.330-05:00My Aquarium<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s quiet in the apartment tonight. Kiddo has gone to visit folks for a couple of days and I’m snuggled up on the couch, crocheting and enjoying the quiet sounds of the aquarium. The cicadas are in full force outside and I can honestly say that I’ll be glad when they’re gone. That particular noise is one I can do without. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I broke down a few weeks ago and decided that I must have a pet, even if it did have scales instead of fur and would rather swim around than play fetch. I’ve had little experience with fish, my last fish pet I killed the first night we brought it home when in my 3-year-old mind, I thought the little goldfish looked hungry and plopped a gumdrop into its bowl. At least he died sugared up and blissfully full. It’s how I would have wanted to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My fish don’t behave like the furry pet that I really want, but they do have a trick or two hiding up their scaly sleeves. They beg. Every morning, I come down the stairs, say good morning (yes, I talk to them – don’t judge), and turn their light on. They line up, watching me intently as I grab the can of fish food and sprinkle a couple of pinches over the top of the water. I think it’s safe to say they’re trained to at least know when to expect their food. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They also have their little personalities, too, at least as far as fish personalities go. One of them likes to hide out behind the shipwreck and that same one likes to dig around in the rocks at the bottom of the tank. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I had to make the tank pretty so I bought four plants, a shipwreck, and a wrecked WWII-era plane. They seem to like everything. They nibble on the plants and pick off food that’s fallen in the nooks and crannies of the shipwreck and the plane. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The upkeep hasn’t been too hard either. I may change my mind in a couple of months, but so far, it’s been pretty simple. I’ve got my weekly routine and my monthly routine. I have to keep a notebook of all the stuff I put in the water, when I vacuum, when I change the filter, and when I re-fill it with water. I’m nerdy that way. I’m also forgetful that way. Those poor fish would’ve died in three weeks otherwise.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So I’m happy with my tank. The filter keeps the water flowing and I love the relaxing sound it makes. If I can keep this tank going I may invest in a bigger tank after I get out of these apartments and into someplace a little bigger.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SIG3lGyXNCI/Vbl7-nZVA_I/AAAAAAAAA0E/sdWFvzqXLFA/s1600/Fish%2BTank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SIG3lGyXNCI/Vbl7-nZVA_I/AAAAAAAAA0E/sdWFvzqXLFA/s320/Fish%2BTank.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-48140573364752072782015-07-26T23:20:00.000-05:002015-07-26T23:20:14.640-05:00My Last Week as a Graduate Assistant<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s almost 11 pm on a Sunday night. I should have been in bed, asleep, half an hour ago. But here I am, typing away at my computer, trying to sort through my mountain of emotion. At least I’m under the covers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tomorrow starts my last week as a graduate assistant at CREP. CREP has been my home away from home for the past two years. I’ve developed friendships and discovered I like educational research while I was there. It’s where I learned to how to REALLY write a report, how research is REALLY done in the real world. It’s the place where I park my Wonder Woman coffee mug, my piles of trinkets I’ve collected over the years that were gifts from colleagues and friends who have traveled. It’s where I’ve spent hours talking with co-workers about everything – from the state of U.S. education today to funny cat videos. I’ve laughed, cried, eaten, and studied at this place. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t do change well. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Change is what’s a-comin’, though. I start a new phase of my life on Friday. I’m already breaking my own rule for posting about this, but I feel it necessary. Our clinical teaching orientation will take most of the day. The next week will involve shadowing my mentor teacher during in-service and the week after, I begin my adventure as a student teacher, at the end of which (hopefully!) I will graduate with my master’s degree. I’ll be the first in my family to get a master’s. It’s something I feel very proud of and at the same time, I’m scared poopless. I’m not going to lie, edTPA makes me nervous. I’m trying to be as prepared as I can be, but I still feel as if I’m getting ready to jump down a rabbit hole with no lifeline to pull me back up. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is where the rubber meets the road, as the idiom so eloquently puts it. Everything I’ve learned up to this point, my passion for English Literature, my knowledge of writing effectively, the teaching skills I’ve learned, all the psychology I’ve had crammed in my brain will be put to the test for the next few months. And at the end of those few months, if I am deemed worthy, I will be awarded with a diploma and the freedom to apply for my teaching license. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I posted a lovely prayer last night and as I wrap up my blog post, I feel it is a fitting ending and one that I will be returning to many times over the next several weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“It is night after a long day. What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done; let it be.” ~ A New Zealand Prayer Book</span><span style="font-family: Courier New;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7080583.post-13092491627342190452015-07-04T10:07:00.003-05:002015-07-04T11:41:28.434-05:00Dr. Robinson - My Opinion<span style="font-family: inherit;">According to the University of Memphis website, over 2,400 people work at the University of Memphis (over 900 of which are faculty members. The campus includes over 21,000 students and spans 1,600 acres. Why, out of all that space and all those people, was I one of three students picked to be interviewed about a professor I have never met?&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>Shoulda, Coulda, Didna</u></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let me backtrack just a little. Earlier that day, I ran across a story on my Facebook newsfeed talking about inflammatory social media posts made by a UofM professor. I read the story and started watching the whole thing unfold throughout the day. You can Google the tweets. I found her Twitter handle and watched as tweet after tweet popped up written by folks responding to what she had said. A few were encouraging, but most were ugly. People can say what they want, but the majority of the ugly tweets I saw (as well as on the news Facebook pages) were made by people whose profile pictures depicted the Confederate flag. Most called for her dismissal, some swore their child would never attend a university that harbored such a racist person, and some were just attacking her. I went back today and noticed many of the tweets have been deleted, by the way. UofM posted a quick tweet later that day stating that Dr. Robinson was no longer employed at the University of Memphis. Dr. Robinson tweeted at some point (it was re-tweeted by one of her Twitter followers) that she was not fired and she had given notice back in May. Later, reports of her new employment at Rhodes College started showing up.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>The News Reporter</u></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u><br /></u></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Enter the media. A news reporter approached me as I was waiting for the Blue Line to come pick me up late that afternoon. She asked if I were a UofM student. I SHOULD have said no. But I didn’t. Then she asked if I knew Dr. Robinson. I had never had a class with Dr. Robinson so I didn’t really have an idea of what she was like. I had taken Intro to Sociology by Dr. Enck and Racial and Ethnic Minorities by Prof. Murphy, but never one from her (although I wish I would have been able to fit one in!). I’d only really begun sorting out what possibly could have happened when the reporter approached me with her questions. I told the reporter I didn’t know Dr. Robinson as I’d never taken one of her classes. I also said that I had read a tweet from Dr. Robinson stating that she HADN’T been fired, but had given her notice back in May. The news reporter then told me their source said that she had been fired. Unfortunately for me, I’m not good at hiding my emotions so my surprise at hearing she had been fired was written all over my face. The reporter quickly then asked something about her ideas and forcing them in the classroom at the same time the camera man (who I hadn’t paid much attention to until that point) whipped his camera up and started rolling. Shit. I COULD HAVE reminded her I had no idea since I had never had her. I probably should have said that. But I didn’t. What came out of my mouth was my experiences in the classroom during my undergrad years with other professors. I explained that we are free to express and discuss our views regardless of the professor’s personal opinion. She asked me if I thought her firing was a result of racism. I responded I didn’t think so.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>THE TWEETS</u></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The tweets Dr. Robinson posted were very powerful, very in-your-face, very controversial, and very much in line with how she rolls. Had she introduced these tweets in a class, I could imagine her writing a tweet on the board in silence, turning back to the class, and asking a simple question, What do you think about this? I would have jumped at the chance to completely immerse myself in discussion and debate. The time would have flown by and I would probably have left the classroom with a little bit more insight, a little bit smarter, and with more respect for a professor who forced me to think about topics that are often avoided. Then again, that’s what college is for, right? To encourage critical thinking, to make us uncomfortable and think outside our mental box, to open our minds and question our beliefs even if we come back to those same beliefs. My other professors did this for me so I have no reason to think Dr. Robinson would not have done the same for me.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>My Reaction</u></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I know of other professors who have left under circumstances that were less than ideal and I don’t remember the UofM EVER stating they no longer worked there. I feel they toed a very dangerous line by choosing to publically state that. I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that the reporter may not have been entirely truthful about her source because I can’t imagine anyone in admin volunteering that information.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I feel that by responding as viciously as many people did, they simply nailed home some of Dr. Robinson’s statements.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Let’s talk about whiteness for a second. Whiteness is not the same as white people. Whiteness in the sense that Dr. Robinson stated in her tweet refers to a word that needs to be defined from a sociological viewpoint. So for those of you Googling just “whiteness”, stop. Just stop. Instead, Google “the sociological definition of whiteness” and you’ll get a better idea of what Dr. Robinson is talking about. You’ll also see why I’m not spelling it out here because it obviously would turn my blog post into a book.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I rate people using simple criteria. Are they nice? If you are a nice person, I like you even if you have weird habits. If you are not a nice person, I treat you professionally if you’re a work colleague, speak to you if you I have to, but generally I avoid you if I can. Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of negativity. Many of the negative tweets I saw were made by people who are not nice. No one nice can post the things they did.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">5.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The articles I read about Dr. Robinson were very subjective and at times misleading. I feel this is irresponsible journalism and contributed to the mob mentality that came later, calling for her resignation.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Do I feel Dr. Robinson was in the wrong for posting the things she did?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">No. Dr. Robinson is a vocal person. She’s a sociologist, for goodness sake! How could she NOT have an opinion on social issues? It’s demanded of her as a responsible professor.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Do I feel she could have said it better?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes and the only reason I say that is because I feel an opinion has more of a chance to be analyzed objectively if it’s stated a bit more gently. I’m not saying that everyone would have stopped before they hit send on their ugly tweet – some people are just going to be mean, regardless. It’s just what I do myself. I try to gently share my opinion and sometimes I don’t share it at all. I’m also assuming here that Dr. Robinson was looking for her opinion to be analyzed objectively.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Is my opinion of how to share opinions correct?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not necessarily. We’re all different and we express ourselves differently.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Am I this forgiving of all people with an opinion?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">If someone posts something that is just idiotic, I do what any normal person does. I read it and think, wtf? Do I attack the person? No. Do I question them? Sometimes. It depends on who it is. If it’s a celebrity, I just let it go. I may blog about it later if the urge strikes me. If it’s a friend or acquaintance, I usually just let it go as well unless I feel I can share my opinion without being attacked. Again, I may blog about it later if the urge strikes me.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Do I agree with what Dr. Robinson says?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, now that’s a bit trickier. It’s also something I may address in a future blog. I agree with some of her posts. The others? I don’t know yet. I have to analyze them and see if I agree with them or not. I know one thing for sure – I’m going to be spending a lot of time on her blog over the next couple of weeks. She has some fascinating, thought-provoking posts on there!</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Do I think Dr. Robinson is racist?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t believe so. Being racist means thinking that one’s race is superior to another. I can’t get inside her head so I can’t say for sure if she is or isn’t, but based on what I’ve read so far, I would guess the answer is no.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do I think about the University of Memphis?&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I love UofM. This university has taken a broken-down, old, divorced, single mother and has turned me into a woman with confidence, a woman with knowledge, a woman who can hold her head up high in the world again. UofM has been my home, literally, for the last six years. I will always be a proud alumni. I would recommend UofM to anyone. It's a great place to learn. I also am aware that UofM has its faults. I hear whispers, I observe, and I know that things go on at this place that are not always very nice things. However, the same could be true of any university. Yes, I’m a suburbanite white girl so I see things through a different lens. I don’t know what it’s like being a black woman in a university setting, but I do know it’s different and it shouldn’t be. Do I think they should have posted that tweet regarding Dr. Robinson’s employment? No. Just no. Dr. Robinson voluntarily addressed her employment status and it should have been left at that. Wtf, UofM??</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">We live in a different world – a world where we can instantly share our thoughts online with potentially hundreds and thousands of people around the world as I just did with this blog post. I love that because I can see what makes people tick based on what they post and I can share my thoughts on the world to the world. It’s also upsetting, though, because it drives home certainties. America still suffers horribly from racism. While I think racism is going to be around for a very long time, I do wish we could improve our ability to sit down and discuss it intelligently instead of firing ugly 140-character zingers at each other.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">For what my opinion is worth, I believe she has been treated unfairly, but she strikes me as someone who can’t be kept down. I look forward to seeing her in action in the future.&nbsp;</span><br /><br />Rhea Pannellhttps://plus.google.com/113508067765637961642noreply@blogger.com0
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