I have never realized how I take people who can hear for granted. Especially the people who live in my house.

No one is home, they're out camping, and I'm home...alone!

I hate it.

My ears all of a sudden hear everything (or so it seems...). And I hear all these noises I've never noticed before, and I'm not sure if they're normal or not. I've taken for granted mom and dad, who could always tell me what some noise was if I got startled.

But now? My vivid imagination takes over. I won't even tell you what I imagined.

I decided I wanted a treat. And what better treat than raspberries? It was around nine o' clock, and after I faithfully watered mom's plants, I grabbed a blue bucket and started picking. I never realized just how addicting raspberry picking could be! I started on the outside...then I started to get pulled in the middle of the huge patch. Time passes by...and before I know it, I can't even see the raspberries. The big pale yellow moon is staring at me, and I realize that I can't see anything through my spectacles. (Yes, I was/am wearing glasses at the moment.) And all I do see is thick raspberry bushes all around me...I feel something bite my leg. Just a mosquito bite, don't worry. Then I start hearing the strange noises. Coming from other peoples' homes.

Then a stupid firework goes off. I fall over, and get up, and realize I can't move anywhere...I was in a delicate spot, and if I break any of these branches with hundreds of raspberries that will be ripe in the next couple of weeks, mom will be very...disappointed.

I finally find some way out, and I pray I didn't kill too many plants.

I come into the house with the phone in hand, unharmed picked raspberries in the other.

I sit down at the computer, and it's very silent. I breathe a breath of relief, when the stupid phone rings. I swear, I jumped two feet.

I hate my vivid imagination.

I hate being hard of hearing.

I hate this!

Good move? Or not?

Mayor Newsom of San Francisco banned bottled water from city departments, even water for the water cooler. I can't explain the story very well, so here it is...

But sometimes I think that we should stop using bottled water so much. We'll actually save water! Have you ever drank about half-a-bottle, then close the lid, and throw it away? You just threw away water in a container that doesn't decompose. It's about to be shipped off and buried in a landfill. I've done it before, and now I feel guilty.
Also, we waste so much energy making the plastic and wrappers for the actual water to be in. Then it has to be shipped off to where you live. (More energy used! Oh, boy.) Then you drink it. And if you're environmentally aware, you'll throw it in the recycling bin. Where it has to be shipped off to the center. (More gas! What a vicious cycle...)

I know there's some areas where the tap water is really...not nice tasting. Why don't you get a filter or something? I know that a filter doesn't make the water as tasty, but you're still making your carbon footprint slightly smaller...

Ooops!

The following story related is true:

I arrived at work today around the usual time, 4:45. Then my swim-lesson-teaching-boss Heather finds me, and drags me into the "cave." (Her office, and my other boss's office.)
"Nedge, I've had a complaint about you."
(I'm looking a little concerned, but nothing more...I assumed she was talking about Chanyaka, a kid that doesn't want to do anything, but is terrified of the water, and has ripped out fistfuls of my hair...I finally just dropped him and made him "bunny hop" all the way back to the wall. [The water was only chest deep. Don't worry. He was FINE.] He drove and drives me insane.)

"A parent called and started ranting about how they drive all the way from South Jordan to take swim lessons here. She's very disappointed with the teacher of her daughter, though. And that's you."
(A daughter?...So it's not Chanyaka? Who have I offended now?)

"Apparently you're teaching all the strokes just fine. But she started ranting on how her daughter is upset because you never seem to listen to her."
(Duh! I can't hear anyone in the pool unless I'm looking at them!)

"And I said, 'Let me explain something to you about Nedge: She's almost deaf. In order to get her attention, your daughter needs to tap her, or make sure Nedge is looking at her.' The mom went dead silent. I could just see the look on her face: the wide-opened gaping mouth, the face that says, 'Oh, great. I just blew it.'"

Heather and I laughed. And got back to work.

Never judge situations until you know all the details. :)

A Question to Ponder...

As I was life guarding today, I started thinking. Want to know what I thought about? Aside from a lot of random thinking, I thought about a pretty deep question:
If you had to choose between the two, would you be rich or poor?

Being rich would definitely have its advantages. You'd be in a position to help others. You would probably wield some influence among the people. You'd be living a life of comfort, and never have to want for anything. BUT...the wealth you possess might make it hard for you to get over yourself. You might find that you have no time, due to work, and unnecessary extra circular activities. You might use the TV to babysit your kids. Why not? You have unlimited channels, after all. You might grow ignorant of the real needs of the world. You might buy a huge gas-guzzling car and a huge house you don't need just because you can. You might have a TV in every room of the house, just because you can...

I think overall, I'd prefer to be poor. I don't want a huge house. I don't want tons of "stuff." I don't want the latest high-tech unnecessary gadgets that will supposedly make your life more comfortable and convenient. Being "poor" makes you more down-to-earth and real. You learn to appreciate the simple things of life. You appreciate and understand the Gospel more fully. You remain humble and kind and understanding of others. If work is close by your home, you'd have the wonderful opportunity to ride your bike to it, or walk to it, to be outdoors. Sometimes I wonder if I have too much stuff. I'm sure I don't wear about half the clothes in my wardrobe... I'm not saying that being poor is without disadvantages. There would definitely be trying times, times when money is scarce, but needed. Times where your children are upset because they don't have whatever latest toy is out, but their friend does. But they do have the chance to enjoy being outdoors, to spend time with their families, to learn what life is really about, what will really make them happy. Not from the "comforts" that commercialism likes to brainwash us about...

It's something else. I think I know what it is. I'm pretty happy. Do you know what it is?
(That's a rhetorical question. You're not supposed to answer them...)

"What's that on your nose?"

I was visiting Emily and Carvel with my dad today.
While we were looking at their garden, Carvel points at my nose with a stalk of wheat. "Hey, Em, is that what I had on my nose? The thing my dermatologist buddy burned off?"
Emily's response: "I don't know, it doesn't look the same."
"If that's what I had, those things can kill you."

And the conversation returns to more pleasant things.
Ack!

Chicks

Well, while I was away to Monterey Bay, some nasty Magpies decided to declare that all of our cute little white-chickens-to-be to be lunch--minus one.

The sole survivor of the massacre is in the back. She is a little bit bigger than the rest. She was crying and crying for friends, that we got four more. Two of them are of the breed called "sex-link" (don't ask me why...I have no idea). And the other two are going to grow up to be just like the brown one we already have.

These type of chicks make me laugh because they remind me of 6th/7th grade girls trying to look popular and older by wearing way too much mascara and eyeshadow...