It is time to return the favor. Recently a longlost friend of mine got in touch with and gave me a little update on her life. Tonight, I am finally able to sit down for a moment and attempt to do the same. (Sorry for the delay!)
I guess I'll start where you did, after high school. I decided to go to Wheaton College, which is about 20ish miles west of Chicago. I went right after high school and really enjoyed my time there. I had great professors, made some wonderful friends, and yes, met my husband Andy there. I met him on my first day at Wheaton, and it didn't take long before we were spending every possible moment together. We dated all of my four years at Wheaton (he graduated a couple years before I did) and got engaged my senior year. We will have our one year anniversary this July 9th. (I can't believe it's already been a year!)
We moved to Aurora IL right after we got married and bought a house. We are still in the process of painting and putting in new carpet in some of the rooms, though to be honest our progress has mostly stopped in the last 3 or 4 months. We've both become increasingly involved in our church, and our time at home has become less and less as a result. I have played the piano for our church for about 3 years now, and Andy has just recently found himself on just about every committee there is! We are in the process of building a new building as well as searching for a pastor, so as you can imagine there is plenty of work to be done. We will probably move into the building in August, so we are truly looking forward to that! So much work and prayer has gone into this project, and we are really looking forward to the new opportunities we will have.
I am working as a dental assistant (thats what you get for majoring in English!) in a nearby city called Naperville. I work for an endodontist, meaning we do only root canals. I started there as soon as I graduated, and have found that I really like it. Andy is a fifth grade teacher, and he has been teaching at the same elementary school in Aurora for 3 years. During the summers he does interior painting jobs, which is a really nice extra income to have around.
I still love to read as well, but just like you said, Janette Oke hasn't made her way onto my bookshelves as of late either. I've also grown to love music, especially anything with a folk influence. Hmmm...what else does my life consist of? : )
My family is somewhat scattered now, with Ben living in Minneapolis, Steve and his wife Rachel (and my adorable 9 month old niece Ella!) living in the UP of Michigan, David just graduated from Wheaton and moved to Muskgeon for the summer, Lisa in Grand Rapids at Aquinas, and Daniel still at home. It is amazing to look at my siblings, the younger ones really, and see that they have grown into adults, with real lives and friends and goals! It is sometimes hard to be far away from everyone, as I'm sure you know.
Well, I guess that covers the basics. There are so many things that don't fit into words, but here is everything that does. You mentioned in one of your posts that you are planning to visit your family soon. Where do they live? I have no idea if it is close to where I am now, and if they are if it would even work, but I would so love to see you and your family. I don't want to intrude on anything or make your schedule any more hectic than it probably is, but on the off chance that something would work out I'd be thrilled! You can email me if you want instead of posting all that in a comment. : ) (Janell.Mccann@gmail.com)
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Sometimes he makes me laugh
Anyone who has known my husband Andy for very long would be able to tell you that he is a little picky when it comes to food. To be fair, I will eat just about anything, so it doesn't take much before I put someone in the picky eaters club. But by any standard, Andy's tastes are highly discriminatory. Though I could list all of the foods on the "Andy-does-not-eat-list," that is not the real reason for my post.
The food I want to focus on today is bread. Not so much a loaf of bread, (because he doesn't really eat that), but sandwich rolls. I am gradually learning what makes a good (and bad) sandwich roll. The bread must be soft and a little doughy, with no type of seeds or other foreign objects on top, and any kind of flavor is out of the question. Its incredible how fresh and tasty the rolls can look in the package, and then when you try them they are tastless, tough, or stale. Needless to say, I've learned by trial and error. Though Andy has been more than gracious, I always feel a little guilty packing his lunch with a sandwich I know he isn't really going to like. I usually have a flashback of my first-grade self, trying to swallow the lump of white bread and Bologna in my mouth.
All of this is a backdrop for the events that unfolded tonight. After Andy and I ate dinner tonight, I left to go grocery shopping. Among the items on my list for this week were "Good sandwich Rolls." I wrote it like this so I would remember to really look and find the PERFECT roll. I write this every week. Except that tonight, I actually found it! A new grocery store opened down the road just recently, and their selection is superb. So tonight, I found the perfect fresh, doughy, plain sandwich roll; I was ecstatic!
As I put the groceries away, I set aside the things I needed to make lunches for tomorrow. I could just imagine Andy coming home after work and raving over the sandwich perfection. (a little much perhaps, but you'd be surprised how excited he gets about good food) I was just finishing putting the groceries away when Andy came into the kitchen. We started talking about something, and it took a moment before I noticed that he was holding something in his hand. And he was squishing it. And it was the rolls! My perfect, Andy-approved, my-search-is-over sandwich rolls! My face must have conveyed my horror, because Andy simultaneously stopped talking and smashing the rolls into an unrecognizable mass of dough.
ME: "What are you doing??"
ANDY: "Uhhhhh...."
ME: "Those are for your lunches!"
ANDY: "I thought they were moldy!"
ME: "So you wanted to smash them?"
ANDY: "I was going to give them to the birds."
By this time, Andy looked so crestfallen that I couldn't help but laugh. You may be wondering, as I was and actually still am, why you would want to pulverize the bread before you would give it to the birds. You may also be wondering, as I was, why it was assumed that the bread was moldy. However, I feel it is best not to pursue the answers to these questions. I do know that next time, I'm getting two packages; one for Andy to eat, and the other for him to play with.
The food I want to focus on today is bread. Not so much a loaf of bread, (because he doesn't really eat that), but sandwich rolls. I am gradually learning what makes a good (and bad) sandwich roll. The bread must be soft and a little doughy, with no type of seeds or other foreign objects on top, and any kind of flavor is out of the question. Its incredible how fresh and tasty the rolls can look in the package, and then when you try them they are tastless, tough, or stale. Needless to say, I've learned by trial and error. Though Andy has been more than gracious, I always feel a little guilty packing his lunch with a sandwich I know he isn't really going to like. I usually have a flashback of my first-grade self, trying to swallow the lump of white bread and Bologna in my mouth.
All of this is a backdrop for the events that unfolded tonight. After Andy and I ate dinner tonight, I left to go grocery shopping. Among the items on my list for this week were "Good sandwich Rolls." I wrote it like this so I would remember to really look and find the PERFECT roll. I write this every week. Except that tonight, I actually found it! A new grocery store opened down the road just recently, and their selection is superb. So tonight, I found the perfect fresh, doughy, plain sandwich roll; I was ecstatic!
As I put the groceries away, I set aside the things I needed to make lunches for tomorrow. I could just imagine Andy coming home after work and raving over the sandwich perfection. (a little much perhaps, but you'd be surprised how excited he gets about good food) I was just finishing putting the groceries away when Andy came into the kitchen. We started talking about something, and it took a moment before I noticed that he was holding something in his hand. And he was squishing it. And it was the rolls! My perfect, Andy-approved, my-search-is-over sandwich rolls! My face must have conveyed my horror, because Andy simultaneously stopped talking and smashing the rolls into an unrecognizable mass of dough.
ME: "What are you doing??"
ANDY: "Uhhhhh...."
ME: "Those are for your lunches!"
ANDY: "I thought they were moldy!"
ME: "So you wanted to smash them?"
ANDY: "I was going to give them to the birds."
By this time, Andy looked so crestfallen that I couldn't help but laugh. You may be wondering, as I was and actually still am, why you would want to pulverize the bread before you would give it to the birds. You may also be wondering, as I was, why it was assumed that the bread was moldy. However, I feel it is best not to pursue the answers to these questions. I do know that next time, I'm getting two packages; one for Andy to eat, and the other for him to play with.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Accident
I saw an accident happen last night. It was like the dream where you want so badly to talk, or more likely scream, but for some reason you find yourself in slow motion, and though your brain is furiously ordering your mouth to form the words, no sound escapes your lips.
We were sitting in traffic on an entrance ramp, waiting to get on the highway, and everything was backed up because there was a toll about 1/4 mile down from our ramp. It was late, and I had just gone to an outdoor picnic/concert with a few of my friends, so we were just sitting, all of us tired and ready to go home, waiting for our turn to merge. I was just staring at the parked cars already on the highway, not thinking about anything in particular, when I suddenly saw streaking brake lights, then something black flying in the air. And then there were two bodies on the ground, and the black object became visible as a motorcycle, which had been sitting at the end of the line of cars. It had flown up in the air and crashed against the car in front of it, and both people on it were now lying on their backs, not moving.
Then I could speak. Though I was too far away, and obviously couldn't have acted quickly enough, it seemed as though my brain had been trying for hours to yell out a warning, but my lips just wouldn't move. Now they would not stop moving, but even as I spoke I felt the uselessness of my words. Immediately there were people everywhere, standing in circles around the two on the ground, some kneeling, others fanning them and trying to wake them up, several on their cell phones. And all I could do was watch; it seemed disrespectul to turn my eyes away. Within minutes a policeman arrived, and slowly we merged into traffic and drove away, leaving everything behind us. Much of the remaining ride was spent in silence. Words seemed too casual and weak to express what had happened. We prayed, and I cried. And then we were quiet again.
I've checked every local police blotter I can find online today, but have discovered nothing yet. It is sobering, but not in a "well now we've all learned our lesson and we can move on" way. I feel as if my life has been irrevocably changed. I may never know who was in that accident last night or what caused the driver of that car not to stop, but I saw lives change in unfathomable ways right before my eyes, and I can't imagine I will ever forget it.
We were sitting in traffic on an entrance ramp, waiting to get on the highway, and everything was backed up because there was a toll about 1/4 mile down from our ramp. It was late, and I had just gone to an outdoor picnic/concert with a few of my friends, so we were just sitting, all of us tired and ready to go home, waiting for our turn to merge. I was just staring at the parked cars already on the highway, not thinking about anything in particular, when I suddenly saw streaking brake lights, then something black flying in the air. And then there were two bodies on the ground, and the black object became visible as a motorcycle, which had been sitting at the end of the line of cars. It had flown up in the air and crashed against the car in front of it, and both people on it were now lying on their backs, not moving.
Then I could speak. Though I was too far away, and obviously couldn't have acted quickly enough, it seemed as though my brain had been trying for hours to yell out a warning, but my lips just wouldn't move. Now they would not stop moving, but even as I spoke I felt the uselessness of my words. Immediately there were people everywhere, standing in circles around the two on the ground, some kneeling, others fanning them and trying to wake them up, several on their cell phones. And all I could do was watch; it seemed disrespectul to turn my eyes away. Within minutes a policeman arrived, and slowly we merged into traffic and drove away, leaving everything behind us. Much of the remaining ride was spent in silence. Words seemed too casual and weak to express what had happened. We prayed, and I cried. And then we were quiet again.
I've checked every local police blotter I can find online today, but have discovered nothing yet. It is sobering, but not in a "well now we've all learned our lesson and we can move on" way. I feel as if my life has been irrevocably changed. I may never know who was in that accident last night or what caused the driver of that car not to stop, but I saw lives change in unfathomable ways right before my eyes, and I can't imagine I will ever forget it.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
What a sweet, sweet day
Well, today was the final day of school (with children) for this year. It is a wonderful feeling to know that I don't "have" to get up for anything inparticular for 3 months. :) Now, the reality is I'll still be getting up and working. It's just nice to know I don't have to.
To say my class was a challenge this year would be an understatement. There were days when I thought I'd go crazy. There were days I really enjoyed too. The toughest thing was the lack of impact I feel I had on the kids. I spent so much time disciplining that I wasn't able to really connect with many kids. It was a very frustrating feeling, especially when so many kids need that.
Here's to the summer though. Hopefully, I'll be recharged and ready to go next year again.
To say my class was a challenge this year would be an understatement. There were days when I thought I'd go crazy. There were days I really enjoyed too. The toughest thing was the lack of impact I feel I had on the kids. I spent so much time disciplining that I wasn't able to really connect with many kids. It was a very frustrating feeling, especially when so many kids need that.
Here's to the summer though. Hopefully, I'll be recharged and ready to go next year again.
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