Burn baby, burn

I kind of crapped out on blogging for the past two weeks. A long time ago Kate told me something like 99% of blogs don't last a year, and I was determined not to have that be me. I have a feeling once I'm done with student teaching I can have lots of time and no stress and can blog alllll the time. Except that when I'm sitting on the couch during my 4 weeks of winter break, watching my second consecutive hour of Family Feud hosted by Al from Home Improvement, it might be hard to think of exciting things to write about.

I have just five weeks of student teaching left, which is really hard to believe. Last week I did my first "take-over" week, which is where I'm the one in charge for five days, and I do all of the planning and stuff. I was so nervous about student teaching to begin with, but I was absolutely terrified before the school year to do my two takeover weeks. But it turned out actually being kind of fun. I spent so many years playing school in my room, so it was strange to think that I was actually the real teacher for the week. And it was a little bit fun playing school with real kids.

So I promised a fire and foot story, and now I'm actually getting around to telling it. With pictures.

I decided I needed a little time on the futon to recover from the Halloween bash the day afternoon after the party. I curled up with my favorite blue and white fleece blanket, and fell asleep to some reality show on MTV. In that time, Kate migrated to Gillian's room to keep her company while she continued to unpack her room, and Charlotte dozed on the other couch. I'm not sure how long I was sleeping, but all of a sudden I woke up because my foot felt hot. Really hot. So I sat up, looked at my foot (which had blanket/sock on it) and realized that I had unknowingly moved my foot into the flame of the candle that Kate had placed on the table so precariously close to my helpless toes. Sadly Kate wasn't there to take sideways pictures before running for safety to her rock in Yarmouth, so I drew a picture.




After a little scream (I found it's slightly scary to see your foot on fire) I whacked it with the rest of the blanket and got it out. But not without a little damage to my blanket and the table.



My favorite blanket will never be the same. Mostly because it leaves ash on me now.





We had a nice weekend here at 9 Acadia. It was Gillian's birthday, and we celebrated in style. Some celebrated a little harder than others. But our toilet appreciated the company.


23, but still just as hot