Happy Memorial Day

The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet church-yard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.

We are organized, comrades, as our regulations tell us, for the purpose among other things, "of preserving and strengthening those kind and fraternal feelings which have bound together the soldiers, sailors, and marines who united to suppress the late rebellion." What can aid more to assure this result than cherishing tenderly the memory of our heroic dead, who made their breasts a barricade between our country and its foes? Their soldier lives were the reveille of freedom to a race in chains, and their deaths the tattoo of rebellious tyranny in arms. We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let no wanton foot tread rudely on such hallowed grounds. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.

If other eyes grow dull, other hands slack, and other hearts cold in the solemn trust, ours shall keep it well as long as the light and warmth of life remain to us.

Let us, then, at the time appointed gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with the choicest flowers of spring-time; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved from hishonor; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us a sacred charge upon a nation's gratitude, the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan.

HEADQUARTERS GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

General Orders No.11, WASHINGTON, D.C., May 5, 1868

In the Midst of Finals Week

Oh finals week. You remember them, right? Procrastinating all night long, cramming in the class before, doing "just enough" and then throwing in the towel.

I mean: studying, studying, studying. Like there's no tomorrow. That's what finals week was like for me.

Now that I'm on the other side of it, I have a whole new perspective. I dread finals week, actually. I dread finding out which of my students chucked the studying for a night of facebooking. I dread seeing those grades drop from an A to a C because they just didn't do the final project.

I dream of students coming in prepared and showing me they have a love for learning. If only dreams would come true...

Anyway, all this to say: I'm in the throws of test giving, final report grading, and end of school wrap-up.

So, if you find yourself bored with all my test talk, go see my friend Summer's new baby. He's adorable. And so much more worthy of this space then my ramblings.

Words of Encouragement From a Stranger

This afternoon, I was running on my favorite local trail. I hadn't run all weekend and this one was hard. My body was telling me I hadn't fed it enough throughout the day to give it the strength to perform now. And my mind was inclined to agree. I guess a cup of coffee, a banana, and some cinnamon swirl bread are hardly sufficient fuel for a long run. Every 5 minutes, I contemplated stopping and continuing the distance with a nice leisurely stroll.

But, with 15 minutes left of my 60 minute run, I passed a walker. He was slightly heavy, but working hard to make this exercise count. We smiled at each other and gave the half wave that is customary for two exercisees sharing a trail.

And then he said, "Good for you!"

It took me a minute to realize these were not lyrics to the song blarring from my ipod. By the time it registered that I had just received words encouragement from a stranger, I was too far past to respond.

However, if I could, I would have thanked him. Because now I couldn't give up. It would have trivialized his compliment of me and my good work.

I started thinking, too. How many times do I take the time to encourage a complete stranger, or a friend for that matter. Most of the time I'm too wrapped up in my own self to verbalize any awareness of others. But today, I needed that encouragement and I know there are times other do, too.

Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. -Hebrews 13:2


When is the last time you received encouragement from a complete stranger? How did it make you feel?

I Love Me Some Giveaways

I debated for a while about calling this blog - I Love Me Some Target - because, well, that's the thought that was running through my head. But after some deliberation, decided this title was much more appropriate for the subject at hand.

I've just jumped on board the blog-giveaway-bandwagon, the one where I visit all the OTHER blogs that are giving things away (not be confused with ME giving things away on this blog - that's not happening yet!). Have you guys been doing this? I'm fairly new, with my first experience coming only this week when I entered to win The Romance Collection Complete Series (forget Target, give me Mr.Darcy!) from BooMama.

And then just today, I saw on my friend, Kim's blog, that I could register to win $100 from TARGET!!! from BloggedIn Bounty.

Now, what girl in their right mind would pass up the chance to win free money for Target?!? I mean, I was just there last week, and saw at least 20 items that are now an absolute necessity for me to own. Without them, my summer will be abysmal. That's right, abysmal.

However, since I know I'm not the only girl out there that Loves Them Some Target (see, where my title debate came from?), I'm letting you know of the offer as well. Just go here. Go. Now. I'm serious. Or click here:

And since I've now used up my quota of links for the next 10 years, I'm closing. Have fun and happy Friday!

I Love It, I Hate It - or - Product Review #1

This weekend while I was visiting the big city (that's what we country folk from B-ville call OKC), I ventured into my FAVORITE store (in the whole wide world), Target. Love that store. But that's beside the point.

I went for the sole purpose of buying a running skirt. If you know me at all, you know that I do a little running. (I like to think of myself as an elite athlete. And people let me think this, even though it's not true. It makes me happy.) Anywhoo, I had recently been lurking around some runner's blogs and forums, reading about the wonders of the running skirt.

What? A running skirt? Now before you go all CHA dress code on me, let me explain. This is not your mother's running skirt. Nor is it the homeschooler's cheerleading skirt (I know you know what I'm talking about). It doesn't go down to the ankles, or even the knees for that matter. It is oh - so chic, and oh - so cute.

Ok, so, I had read that Target sells a pretty good running skirt, the next best thing to the $50 one that most of the lady runners where promoting. And since I'd never worn a running skirt, I figure better to start cheap and see what I think before shelling out the big bucks (which I probably will never do despite how much I may love that skirt.)

The forums I had been reading stated that running skirts were not only super hot but were much more comfy than the traditional short. Evidently, they prevented the dreaded crotch ride of the short. And since I'm all about my hotness and my comfyness, I was sold.

I tried it out yesterday for the very first time. I have to admit, I did feel pretty hot, kind of sassy, actually. But this was just standing in front of the mirror, admiring myself. I had to road test it before I came to any solid conclusions.

Out the door I go to my favorite little running trail. I felt a little conspicuous, seeing as the skirt is rather short, actually much shorter than any of my shorts. And my legs aren't all that buff. (My clavicle, on the other hand, is starting to get very well defined. Remind me later to tell you how much I love clavicles.) But, I had to feel the wind against my legs to see how they held up. A couple yards into it, I was starting to have my doubts. You see, under the little skirt are minuscule little (redundant? maybe) bike shorts. When standing or sitting, they are fine. But when your legs reach the full range of motion required to propel you across miles and miles of land, those bike shorts get the urge to migrate. Up, that is.

And right as this migration process was happening and I was feeling like my cheeks were surely hanging out for all the world to see, wouldn't you know it, but I ran into a student. Never met a student on that trail before. Lucky me, it had to be today.

I quickly did the yank down and am assured I was modest. As I continued my run, with one eye behind me in case that student came up again, I continued to evaluate the skirt. Actually, I didn't hate it. As long as I kept it pulled down to hip level, the skirt covered all my goods. And it was much better than any of the shorts I own.

So, my consensus is this: I love it and I hate it. So, I think I'll keep it.

Look Mom, I'm 30!

I woke up this morning and examined my face for new wrinkles. Nope, same ol' ones. Nothing much different from yesterday.

Except that gargantuan number that now stands next to my name.

The day had finally come. The big 3 - 0! You know, it's the age you never think you're going to be. No longer can I say, I'm in my twenties. No longer do people tell me I'm still young. No longer do I fit in the cheaper insurance bracket. No longer do people tell me I've still got plenty of time to fill in the blank.

Today, when people heard I turned 30, they responded with "no way! you don't LOOK 30!" So, that begs the question. What does 30 look like? Whatever it is, I'm glad I don't look it. Because deep down inside, I don't feel a day over 29.

(In case you wondered, here's what 30 looks like on me....)