9-8-16 Hover or Cover?

Hello All! I'm writing this while trying to tune out a Thursday Night Football game. If subliminal football terms sneak into this blog, you'll understand why!!

This week was CT week...yet again. Here's the saga, if you care: Last December I told the oncologist that I felt somewhat bloated--but that I've never been this overweight before, so maybe that's just what it felt like. She wasn't too worried, but said, to be sure, we'd have a CT (that's "WE" in the royal sense!!) That scan came back OK--sort of. There was a small spot on the liver, really small. They thought it was just a birthmark. (Evidently we walk around with all sorts of little birthmarks/scars/weird little things inside us on our organs. But most people don't know it because they don't have the scans. Kind of freaky.) 

Anyhow, since there was something there, and since my mom's breast cancer went to her liver, it was decided to repeat the scan in three months. Soooooooo, last April I had a second scan. That one was OK--sort of. The spot had not really changed much, just 1 millimeter bigger than in December. The doctor thought that it was probably just the angle I was on the table, that I was twisted just a smidgen. So, once again, due to my history and my mom's history, we had to reschedule yet another scan. I was pretty sure, by this time, that it was nothing because I figured if it had been cancer it would've grown dramatically in the first three-month waiting period. 

Cut to this week. CT scan #3. Drink probably 32 ounces of the white berry-flavored yukkiness. And yesterday she called with the results: my liver is unremarkable. (Well, it's always worked well for me. I think that's rather miraculous, considering all it's done!) But the spot has not grown--is even a little smaller. So I probably twisted the other way this time. 

Sigh of relief.

(Hey, by the way, the scan of the liver I put up at the top is NOT my liver. I am not sure if I picked a picture of a healthy liver, so I didn't want my medical friends to read this one and find anything else wrong with me!!!!)

I'm hard at work on two social work classes right now: Cultural Diversity and Intro to Social Work. In diversity I just finished a paper on medical ageism. It was so interesting (and I am sure hoping that my presentation on Saturday will be spell-binding.) I am calling up volunteers and doing things to simulate being elderly. Hoping they laugh at one point! 

The Intro class is interesting, in a sick, social work kind of way. I spent 20 hours volunteering at a nursing home this past week for a service learning component. And I actually liked it. But, I am getting tired of all the paper writing. Social work classes don't seem to have many tests--just papers. My current project for this week is to write about a famous social worker. (Did you know there were famous social workers?) Haven't chosen mine yet. 

The biggest stressor for me in this Intro class is the technical component--it's an online class, so I'm having to download or upload or submit electronically. I have to make a powerpoint presentation for the biography. With narration. 

So, now I've educated you about social work and livers and scans. I have one more public service announcement to make.

My mom was always one of the "old" moms. She didn't try to be my best friend, but she loved me. She gave me independence (probably more independence than I should have had!) She listened so well. She thought I could do anything I wanted to do. She assured me that I was special. (Boy, do I ever miss her--gone 30 years.) 

Anyhow, she had the best little observations on life ever. She would say things like, "Boys don't like girls who are too forward." (An oldie, but goodie.) "People always think their own poop smells kind of good." (Ewwwww! Mom!!!!!) Or "Be sure to cook the pork thoroughly or you'll get THAT WORM." (She always talked about THAT WORM. I guess the pork worm is different than any other worm and you really don't want it.)

One of the little tips for life she shared was "In public bathrooms, you need to either potty by just sort of hovering over the toilet or cover the seat with toilet paper." She was pretty sure I would get diseases if my little bum touched the seat. (I don't remember if she thought it was venereal disease or just mysterious diseases...maybe THAT DISEASE.) (And, to you Watleys, my MIL, Dolores, who is obsessively clean, who makes me feel like I'm living in an outhouse, never told her boys this bit of wisdom. Did she not know about THAT DISEASE? Does she carry cleaning supplies in her purse so she can clean the public toilets? I'm scared to ask her because then she'll start being more obsessive!) 

So, for years and year I have been a cover-er. Now I read this article and my world is totally off it's axis:

http://en.newsner.com/after-reading-this-youll-never-put-toilet-paper-on-a-toilet-seat-again/about/science

In case you don't want to look up this link, it says that there are not many germs on the toilet seat. THEY ARE ALL ON THE TOILET PAPER!!! Can you believe this?? And, woe to those of us with allergies who have actually blown our noses on the TP. Ick!!! This is beyond gross.

So, now I have to have a lifestyle change. I'm no longer drinking any liquids while I'm out in public! (No, not really.) But I am now a definite hover-er. TMI.

One other piece of wisdom that Mom said that, at first glance is rather mean, is "You know...there's lots of ugly people out there." (She really was a wonderfully nice woman.) She had sat at the mall waiting for me one time and really observed the people. But, when I really analyze this I think it's probably true. There is a worldly view of beauty--thin, no wrinkles or jowls (my own personal cross to bear), stylish, beautiful hair, perfect make up. And there are very few who achieve it. Even the gorgeous movie stars are air brushed and injected and nipped and tucked. What chance do us real people have? No boobs...thin hair with bald spots...age spots...jowls...

Physical is just so elusive and fleeting. When we really think about it, what makes us think someone is beautiful? They smile. They are kind. They are confident. They listen. The love God. (And they probably don't blow their nose on TP!)

Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised. --Prov. 31:30

Don't be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God. --I Peter 3:3-4

You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God. --I Peter 3:4

God is looking down, people-watching. What is He seeing when He looks at you? Is he seeing true beauty? The kind of beauty that lasts?

Go Mom!

8-23-16 Was that Summer that Just Flew By???

Wow. It's late August already--kids are back in school, people are posting about yearning for hot chocolate and bonfires. Yikes! It was just a moment ago when I was planning it all out.

I looked back to see when I last wrote...I've got so much to tell you. (Did you ever watch "Anne of Green Gables"? When Mrs. Lynde ran out of the house saying that to Anne after she had been gone teaching for a year? So that's what I've become...Mrs. Lynde!!!   :)

We tried something new for the 4th of July this year. Our daughter-in-law, Jenna, has spent almost every 4th of July of her entire life at Okoboji with her family. When Logan entered into the Davies clan, we were told to NEVER expect them at our house on the 4th. (Well, maybe they were more diplomatic than that.) So this year we just joined them. And, you know what?? It was so fun!

They stay at the same Inn every year, just because they've always stayed there. Now that we've been there, we know which room we should book next time. No one happened to mention to us that the lakeside rooms are so much nicer!! We ate and talked and mini-golfed and ate and played dominoes. Some boated. Some swam. And all ate.

Probably the biggest thing about that weekend was that was the weekend Logan and Jenna announced their pregnancy. (They had told the immediate family a few weeks earlier, but this was making it public.) Little "Bubba Dub" is due on January 17 and we are all thrilled!! (Actually, they won't find out until tomorrow about gender, but I've nicknamed him/her for now.) Jenna is now feeling good after some weeks of not so much. She's got the cutest little bump!!

Loy had two consecutive baseball trip weekends with Grant, but I chose (or was not invited???) not to participate in those trips. I was busy packing and moving a house!

WE ARE ALL MOVED IN!!!! And our old house sold within a day of the sign being put in the yard (but closing has not happened yet...I never feel totally at ease until the check is in our account!) I had always wanted to see if my dogs liked water. We brought them out, on leashes, to let them get the lay of the land. Sniffing, pottying, normal dog stuff. We let them off the leashes. Calm, more sniffing, then, WHAM. Out of the blocks they went. Racing and frolicking and biting the itty bitty waves. Here we were, the new kids on the block, wandering on our neighbor's beaches yelling, "Pip...Sparky...come back." They were, of course, ignoring us totally. I'm just hopeful none of the neighbors saw.

But, after 3 weeks they are doing pretty well. I take them out with a pocket of bones. Each time they come back to me, they get a bone. It's not foolproof, but they're still a work in progress.

The first day they ran into the water. Well, our beach has a kind of drop off about 2 feet in. Each of them, separately, dropped off. So, I know that they have the ability to swim, at least. But they haven't stepped off again on purpose. They love to wade in to get their tummies and legs wet, and they drink the water, but no more swimming. And, by getting their tummies wet, they insure that they can carry the maximum amount of sand into the house.

Our new house has this terrific master shower. A walk in big enough to hold meetings inside. I was in there, showering (not holding a meeting) when I opened my eyes.

Dogs. In the shower with me. Now, they may be my babies, but I am not showering with dogs!!! So now I have to keep one eye open and flick them with water when they come in, which they hate, then they leave. Or, maybe not leave, exactly.

Yep. They sit on that rug, staring in at me. Kind of disturbing.

Now, if you've heard enough of my dog stories...we took Amtrak to Oregon last week. We had always wanted to take an extended trip on the train. So, we looked at where Amtrak went and picked the place that was farthest and that we had never been. Portland, Oregon, it is!!!

It takes 32 hours on the train to get there (one way). We scheduled arrival on a Tuesday morning. Loy said, "And we can make the return trip reservation for Tuesday afternoon." What??? I told him we had to stay out there a little while, even though Portland was not a destination we had totally desired to visit. So, our return was on Thursday afternoon, arriving back in Minneapolis at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday.

The train was fun. On the way out, we got what is known as a "roommette," a small compartment with two chairs facing each other. At night they fold the chairs down to make one twin (well, almost twin-sized) bed. Then they bring down a shelf and make a very narrow top bunk. And you share a bathroom with the rest of the sleeper car (there's even a shower!) Loy took the top bunk and it was quite humorous to see him trying to navigate up to that level. There was no floor space.

While we were walking around (meals are included in your ticket price when you get a sleeper!) we noticed others had rooms that looked more spacious than ours...so when we reached Portland we disembarked and Loy marched right to the ticket desk to upgrade us for the way back. The "bedroom" had a couch and a chair. Still bunk beds, but you had enough room to stand in one spot to get dressed, as long as you didn't move. And, the real draw...IT HAD IT'S OWN SINK, SHOWER, AND TOILET!!!!! Now, you did have to almost sit on the toilet to shower (kind of like an RV bathroom) but it was all ours!!!

Would we do the train again? Yes. Would we do it exclusively instead of flying? No. They do treat you very much nicer than the airlines do. No security checks. Really pretty good food that you order in the dining car. (They do seat you with other people at your table, though, so you have to make small talk every meal! I loved that! Loy...not so much.)

Now we are home until October 1...time to finish off those boxes and get settled in. Time to learn all the walking routes around these lakes. Time to try to remember all the new neighbors' names, kids' names, and dogs' names. (BTW--everyone on our cove/block has at least one dog!!! No one gets too upset when they run wild and free.)

Oh, also, this summer, I took a class at Wesleyan: Life Lessons. It was very interesting, talking about a different topic each week (grief, mindfulness, strengths, and so forth). I learned that I am resilient. I learned that I have planned my funeral much more than your typical 21-year-old has. I learned I am an Activator and Communicator(according to Gallup). I learned what LGBTQIA means. I learned social work students, for the most part, are really nice people. That was over in late July. Then I am halfway through a Diversity class and my Intro to Social Work class (online) started Monday. I'm still not sure how far I will take this schooling thing, but, so far, it's been interesting.

You can come visit me anytime (OK, probably not ANY time...) Because, you know, this is how living should be!!  :)

7-21-16 Twinkling??? Nah.

This advertising of my desire to be a "twinkly" old person can be a burden for me to bear.

Twinkly? Today, not so much.

We are in the process of moving--trying to keep the old house clean while we live in it and pack boxes. Not just clean. House-showing clean.

You know the drill...vacuum the carpet with the sole purpose of leaving vacuum marks (and try doing that with two doggies who view it as the fulfillment of their life purpose to bark at the vacuum, running back and forth as it goes over the carpet.) Wipe down the bathrooms, hiding all signs of life, such as toothbrushes and used washcloths and dirty clothes. Spritzing some Glade...judging the amount...enough to make it smell good, not enough so that they notice that it is Glade. Erase all signs of dogs living in the house...water bowl, kennels, beds...all into the car with us. As well as the dogs in the car with us. We've only had two people look at it so far, and they were considerate enough to look one right after the other. But another showing tomorrow. And a showing is a good thing, right?...just a lot of work.

And taking care of the financial aspects of buying a house. Loy had gone to the bank last week to tell them what we needed and they agreed. I would just have to go in and tell them I needed it today. Nope. The banker could not even remember Loy going in there. Big black mark on his reputation in our house!!! They grilled me about who the title company was (had I met with them in person?) and ended up calling the realtor just to verify that it was all legitimate. I should be glad they are taking so many safeguards to protect people. I'm just annoyed.

The yard needs weeding. The windows need to get dog booger smudges off them. The fence guy hasn't called back. Neither has the landscaper. Grrr.

I have bunches of stuff I want to sell, but don't want to have a garage sale and people are not responding to some of my ads on Craigslist. They just won't fit in the new house. How terrible. I have so much stuff that it won't fit in the house anymore. Boo hoo.

And, to top it all off, my splurge was to have the packing done FOR US. That estimate came back today. Wow. Ouch. I may be free-spending, but not even I would spend that much! So I had to get boxes and start packing myself. Boo hoo. Poor me. I have to do all this work to get a new, beautiful lake house. Waaaaaaaah.

My allergies have kicked it up a notch (I really didn't remember that I have summer allergies. I thought it was just spring.) My head is pounding every time I bend over or stand up. I am taking medicine, but it makes me kind of non-motivated. I'd rather sleep or read a book. I look a lot like this:

I am blogging because that cheers me up. It makes me see things in a different light. 

If I decided to forget my complaints,  to put away my sad face and be cheerful, --Job 9:27  (Ok, I took that one way out of context...it really has no meaning in this situation at all.) But, I believe that it is my choice whether to let myself be overwhelmed by all the things that need to happen before we move into this Dream House. As Elisabeth Elliot said, "Do the next thing." That's all I have to do. 

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in a time of need.--Proverbs 17:17  You ARE helping by reading my tales and grumps of woe! 

A cheerful look brings joy to the heart; good news makes for good health.--Proverbs 15:30 So now I'll just smile maniacally while I stuff each and every box...that ought to do it!

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.--Proverbs 17:22 That's why I just want to lie on the couch and worry, rather than taking some action and getting some things done. 

Singing cheerful songs to a person with a heavy heart is like taking someone’s coat in cold weather or pouring vinegar in a wound.--Proverbs 25:20 So, what I DON'T need is you singing cheerful songs to me tonight! Or telling me how you knew your move was God-ordained because your house sold in 20 minutes. Or telling me that I'm so blessed (which I know I am). 

What do I need? I need you to pat me on the back (metaphorically) and tell me, "Oh...poor Kitt. You'll get through this." 

And I need you to see this picture which always brings a smile to my face...my little loves right before we did a 5k in Dallas last month. (Notice how I worded that. "We DID a 5k." I can say that and people just assume I ran a 5k. Ha!! I walked, and not all that fast. But I sure DID it. 

OK, it's working. I'm starting to sense a little twinkle coming on...time to go pack a box or two.

Love,

Kitt.

7-19-16 Trust me.

I know. I know. I just this second published a blog. But that one was dull and just about my travels and I wanted to tell you another story I've been mulling...

My father-in-law, Dale, was a sharecropper's son in Arkansas/Oklahoma, one of eight children. He got an engineering degree and moved to Nebraska where he started a business (Ag-Tronic) with one of his brothers.

I wish you could have known him. He was energetic. He was smart. He worked hard (I actually think maybe too hard--where was the fun??) He was always full of ideas of ways to make things better. He invented tools to fit a need. Smart, independent man. Sure, rather bossy and domineering...he wanted things done his way, no compromise.

Dementia.

It is heartbreaking. He would be so mortified to see what he has become. He cannot speak anymore, cannot walk. Falls multiple times per week because he won't give up his independence and use the walker or wheelchair. Oftentimes he can't feed himself. He is angry and frustrated. Very angry and frustrated.

My mother-in-law, Dolores, takes such great care of him. She visits the memory care facility daily and combs and cleans and lotions and brushes his teeth and changes him. She gives him kisses and hugs (which, despite all he's lost, he still loves).

Some might ask, "Why is God keeping him here to suffer like this?" And I have pondered that also. I think I've come to the conclusion that it is not about Dale anymore. Maybe God wants to see me show love and caring for this vulnerable person. Maybe it's to teach me things. Just a thought...

When Dale was still living at home he would not listen to reason. He would be determined to saw through a pipe or shovel snow in -40 degree windchill. I'm sure my MIL wanted to say, "I know you don't agree with me right now, but can't you just trust me?"

I wrote that phrase to her the other day about an issue. Later she emailed me back and said that she had prayed to God for guidance and then read my email. She viewed it as a sign from God!!! I called a couple of my kids and told them, "GRANDMA SAYS I'M THE VOICE OF GOD!!!! You should listen to all my emails and words and obey them!!!" :) Neither one was convinced. Neither was Loy. I'm totally unappreciated!!!!

But this got me to thinking about trust. What does it take for a person to trust someone?

1. I've got to know them.
2. I've got to have a history with them acting in ways that foster my trust.
3. I've got to have confidence that they know what they're talking about.
4. I've got to let go of my own ideas, feelings, actions.

It's not something they can just tell me and I will. It takes the action to back it all up.

So...if I want to trust God more I've got to:

1. Get to know Him.
2. Read about ways He's been faithful and trustworthy in the past--in the Bible. Also, think about ways in my own life He's already shown His trustworthiness.
3. I've just got to decide that He is worthy...that He knows more about things than I.
4. I've got to let go.

I usually don't want to let go--I mean, people should listen to ME, right??? Basically, I guess I don't want to trust. It's scary. It doesn't always make sense, logically.

But, I don't know everything. (I know, this shocks you.)

He is God.

I am not.

Here's to developing more trust in God!!!

Kitt.

6-2016 And so it begins...

Well, I'm obviously not doing too great a job of keeping a journal of our travels during this sabbatical year!!

June began with Loy and I heading to Door County, Wisconsin. We have had that on the "Must Be Visited" list for years and finally decided to do it. We rented a cottage clear on the upper point, in Gill's Rock. It was lovely up there--very cool (literally and figuratively) and we were right on the water, which we love.

So, what did we do in Door County?? We took the ferry to Washington Island and saw Schoolhouse Beach (one of only five beaches in the WORLD that has this particular type of rock on the beach, sort of like a rounded cobblestone. If you take one home, $250 fine!!! Glad someone told us this before I increased my rock collection!). We ate at a fish boil, a very Door County kind of thing:

 

They put the fish and potatoes and whatnot into this big pot of boiling water. Then they throw kerosene on the fire and you get a huge fireball. It's kind of cool to watch, but the food is so-so. Did it. Glad. Don't need to do it ever again.

With much fear and trepidation I went to a breast cancer survivor's retreat the last part of the week. It was a wonderful experience and now I am all inspired to try to start one out here in Nebraska. I could write an entire blog about the experience, and probably will!

Next, we went to Dallas (the entire family went!) for the Engagement Party of Paul and Beth. They've been seeing each other for over 1-1/2 years, so we were thrilled when they decided to get married! Next June 17 is THE DAY. I told Paul he was taking quite a lot for granted when he planned this surprise engagement party. I mean, he was assuming she'd say "Yes." His response? "She will say "Yes."

On the way home from Dallas we stopped in Arkansas to visit my sister, Bunny, and her warren. (She's got 13 children.) We had Luke with us, so he had the time of his life playing with Kenny, his bud, and some of the other kids. My brother, Den, and his wife, Gail, came over to visit with us. We basically watched as my brother faded away that afternoon. Later he was diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever!! Poor guy!

Our next trip was to Lake Okoboji with Jenna's family. We'd never been to Okoboji during tourist season and it is quite a sight to behold. People everywhere! We had a wonderful view of the fireworks done at Arnold's Park. Played mini-golf (they are a very competitive bunch). Snacked. Played dominoes and Apples to Apples. Talked, lots. It was a great weekend!

And, last weekend we went to Sioux Falls to visit Loy's parents, Grant and Angela and cutie patooties, and Paul and Beth (who had flown up for a quick visit). I apologize that all of you don't have as cute of grandkids as I do. In my mind, mine are obviously superior!! :)

Upcoming trips:  Loy to Washington DC for a baseball trip with Grant and his buddy, Matt. Loy to Minneapolis with Grant for more baseball. Loy and Kitt take Amtrak to Portland, Oregon. Loy and Kitt go to Thousand Island, NY, then to Pittsburgh. Loy goes to Albuquerque. Loy goes to England. Loy and Kitt go to Phoenix. Whew...

And, in unrelated news...we just purchased our Dream Home on a lake north of Ashland, Nebraska.

Who knew there were sand beaches in eastern Nebraska??? We close on the house on July 25 and hope to be in shortly after that. Lots to do between now and then!!! I'm procrastinating by blogging today. 

I'm reading this and thinking, "Man, this is dull." Sorry about that!!

But, you can plan to come visit us...

Kitt.

6-6-16 Scars

As I told you last week, I am taking a class at NWU towards a possible social work degree. My summer class is called "Life Lessons" and, after one class, I can say that I LOVED IT!!

However, Loy, not so much.

See, I came home with all these questions and sprung them on him so he can have the same joy that I felt at these thoughtful, insightful, interesting questions. They are very abstract and, alas, my poor hubby doesn't deal with abstract. He wants quantitative numbers. He wants a "yes" or "no" answer. He wants there to be a right and wrong answer, none of this "It's about you, so just answer as you feel." To him, my questions are a bunch of malarky.

"What most inspires you?"
"What typically keeps you stuck, or blocks you from being your best self?"
Think back on a time when you were having the most fun, felt most alive--what were you doing?"
"If you woke up tomorrow and your life was awesome, what would that look like?"

Turns out...he hates these questions. (No offense to Professor Borchardt!) So, I either have to learn to keep my questions to myself or drop out of school.

There are 17 of us students, 2 of them are men who are close to my age. Then there are the sweet little girls. They are so darned nice--but they were talking about turning 21 last week!!! I went in there with trepidation and they put me at ease. They listened to my answers and made me feel like I was significant. They used my name. I could learn a lot from these little girls!

Yesterday I wrote a reflection paper on "Happiness." Is there really a difference between happiness, cheerfulness, and joy? Is happiness something all people deserve? Should that be a goal--to be happy? Are there things I can do to make myself more happy? (Turns out, there are things you can do!!)

As part of my class grade I have to journal--something that has not been too terribly hard for me. Today I was supposed to ponder, then journal about scars. Yep. Scars.

What are the characteristics of scars?

• they are big or small, depending on the level of injury
• they are a result of an injury or trauma
• they can look different from person to person, or injury to injury
• they are noticeable
• they have no feeling--but hurt while I was getting them
• they look red and angry at first, then kind of mellow out and change to white--or at least less red
• they indicate that healing has occurred
• they are a reminder of the hard things I (or you) have been through
• they can signal VICTORY!!
• they show that I am human--I don't have to strive for perfection and that's ok
• they can differentiate me from someone else (someone can look like me, but will never have the same scars as I do

After having a bilateral mastectomy, two different port placements, and three different lymph node biopsies, I am definitely scarred. And they are not pretty scars (is there such a thing?)

When I start to become obsessed about my imperfections I need to remember that they are markers--reminders that life is fragile and that I made it through the hard time. Remember how, in the Bible God is always telling people to build the altars after a battle? Those were to remind the people of what God did in that place. What if I thought of my scars as something to remind me that God is there...that God carried me through...that God is bigger than anything life can throw at me.

I need to realize that I will never be the same as who and what I was. I made it through. That experience, though tougher than tough, made me who I am today. I didn't want that experience, it was extremely painful, both emotionally and physically. It was the toughest thing I have ever had to do (TWICE). I was pretty sure that there was no reason this could be a good thing.

But now, on the other side, I can say that God and I made it. That I am changed. Forever.

I'd better go for now. I have to write a paper talking about the Gallup StrengthsFinder survey I just took. (In case you're wondering, my #1 strength is Communication. Go figure that one!)

Love,

Kitt.

5-30-16 WHAT are you doing??

sab·bat·i·cal

səˈbadək(ə)l/

noun

1. 1. 

   a period of paid leave granted to a college teacher for study or travel, traditionally every seventh year.

As most of you know, my husband, Loy (a/k/a "The Big Kahuna) teaches at Nebraska Wesleyan University. He's been there for somewhere around 20 years now (it's hard to pinpoint just how long because he was part-time adjunct teaching for a while and we never know when to start counting!)

Anyhow, NWU has some very nice PERKS. Tuition Exchange Program for Lex to go to Baylor. Free tuition for the boys. (At one point, the university had to publish a report listing how much everyone made...Loy counted as the highest paid professor for 2-3 years, only because we had THREE kids in college at the same time!) Free tuition for me as I explore whether I want a second bachelor's degree in Social Work. 

But, one of the nicest is the sabbatical. 

NWU allows the professors to take a sabbatical every sixth year!! Now, you may picture a hammock and lemonades during that year. Not quite...you have to convince NWU that the research/teaching/writing/studying/whatever will somehow benefit the university. We had our first sabbatical back in 2010-11 and spent the year in England.

So, the time has come for another sabbatical year. Yes, already.

Most people think of "sabbatical" and think it would be the greatest invention on the face of the earth. And it IS pretty wonderful, but it's not without it's challenges. As the spouse, I have to put my whole life on hold for a year (waaaaaah! poor, pitiful me!) You can't hold down a job while your spouse is off galavanting around. You find yourself measuring time by sabbatical stages..."We'll be just done with this trip and ready to start that trip at that point..."

I dragged my feet. I said I just couldn't spend more than one month outside the country this time (my health and, more importantly, GRANDBABIES!!!) I can't be gone that long. I need to be within a quick plane ride home at all times!

Loy's sabbatical plan is, roughly, this:

Back in the day when we originally went to college (way back in the day) there was no internet, no email, no Facebook, no tweeting, and on and on. Now Loy teaches a Business Communication class and has no formal training in what to teach. This summer he is going to conduct a literature review to see what's been written on what employers want. That's Part 1.

Next, we will be traveling to different parts of the US, averaging one trip per month, and he will interview three different types of people: 1) alumni who are 5-10 years out of school...what did they wish they had learned about communicating in business?; 2) people who are doing the hiring...what do they look for in their new employees regarding communicating?; and 3) university professors who are currently teaching Business Communication...how do they teach that class? After gathering all this information, he will do a review of the current curriculum and see if and how they can improve. 

I'm using this blog as a travel journal, so bear with me. If you don't want to read our adventures, go ahead and skip it! 

The sabbatical officially began on May 14, right after graduation. We left a few days later to fly to Phoenix to visit my family out there. And scope out where we might stay when we go back to do research in January. (I'm using that "we" very liberally--this girl will not be researching!) 

I alluded to this earlier, but I have decided to explore the Social Work arena, with an interest in helping the elderly navigate being elderly. I have a bachelor's degree in business, so this is quite a departure for me. I have told my family that I am just exploring. I am NOT going to count it as a failure if I take one class and decide I hate it. The classes meet once a week for 4 hours at a crack. We are trying to work many of the trips around these classes. I plan on taking the old laptop with me and studying while Loy is researching and interviewing. 

Well, this blog entry is dull, dull, dull. But I'm just setting the stage...I'm sure we'll have many fascinating stories to tell as it all unfolds. 

Until the next trip...

Kitt.

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