Knuckling Down to Spanish. A short course in how I plan to estudy espanol

As an educator, I learned a few tidbits about learning that I hang on to.

• To increase learning, you can do three things: Decrease group size. Increase explicitness. Increase time. These 3 things allow for more opportunities to respond, more and better feedback and, of course, more practice.

• The brain learns best on a nibbling diet. Many concentrated sessions beat fewer longer sessions.

• Engagement is everything. Babies are language learning masters because their "on" button is stuck on. They can't not pay attention.

At Education Week, I attended a session on second-language learning. The challenge was given to be the architect of one's own learning. To do that, it's good to look at the perfect model: Babies and toddlers. Little children pick up language naturally because of being bathed in language from birth and maybe before. The brain, being a pattern-seeking organism, begins to make sense of the babble and in just a couple of years the child has a sophisticated understanding of words and their meanings, sentence construction, even humor. It is amazing, but somewhat replicable; realizing that no one is going to stand over me smiling and speaking slowly while I learn.

But, here's my daily plan for learning Spanish:
1. A few DuoLingo lessons on the iPhone. Great free app, by the way. I'm not a digital game player, but the little reinforcing "ching" when I answer correctly is actually pretty motivating. Tonight I learned the word "enemigos." How cool is that? Like "frienemies" except that it's a real word, and now you, too, know it. I am moving on into something called Object Pronouns. Sounds scary so I'll tackle it tomorrow.

2. At least two Rosetta Stone lessons.  Here again, I can't stop with one at a sitting--mostly because I won't accept anything below 80% on a lesson and sometimes that means many repetitions. How I wish I'd taken ANY language in high school!!  Estupidamente me. (Actually, the word is perezoso. Lazy.) And I confess, in the hardest part, writing, I will advance whenever they let me because it is so hard that about three times through and I'm ready to call it quits, 80% or no.

3. Read out loud the old lesson, study and copy the next lesson from A First Spanish Reader. This is a slow slog and these are supposed to be simple stories, but I am a believer in repetition, so I'm doing it. I figure if I just hear things enough times, something is sure to stick.

4. Read a chapter or two of Spanish, Learn the Basics. This and the previous books are on my Kindle. Rosetta Stone is on my computer. The resources are literally at my fingertips.

5. Get started on actual reading Spanish text with Jay.  Probably the Book of Mormon or Preach My Gospel--a few paragraphs each day to begin with.

With just six weeks before we are supposed to be heading out, I certainly don't have any illusions that I'll be speaking the language, but every day a little step closer....

Mission Call

Almost 3 months exactly from the time we were approached about the possibility of serving this mission we received our call in Friday's mail.

I've heard the words, "You are hereby called ________" read out loud when our kids and others received their mission calls, but until the letter was in my hands, with my name, I didn't realize how Brigham Young-like that wording was.

We have dreamed and planned for a mission almost since we were married. This is what we want to do, and have looked forward to; but suddenly I realize what those words might sound like to a 19 or 21 year-old who just made up her mind to serve. Those kids have courage! There is something noble about receiving that envelope, with whatever destination it demands and immediately falling in love with the place. Amazing, really. I admire obedience. You're called to the Muddy, the Iron Mission, Pocatello--and you go.

Already Chile has a special place in my heart. Check this sunset out:

And the little hundred-year-old home we will be living in:

 Here are the baby olive trees all lined up. Isn't that geometric design gorgeous? 

It looks like Egyptian jewelry, or inspiration for a future quilt in my favorite colors.

(Thanks to the Waltons, the missionaries that we will be replacing, who took these pictures)

Here are the basics as we understand them so far:  We'll be teaching English to the farmworkers on this huge for-profit olive farm (ranch?) that the Church is developing somewhat near Santiago, Chile (only sunnier and rural). We get to make friends and manage an English language and computer "learning center," for the workers. We don't proselytize, we don't dress up (jeans, fleece jackets, boots--is that a Kathleen mission, or what?!), and we get to keep our favorite companion the whole time! I don't think we go to the MTC--just a day-long orientation in Salt Lake. The call is from the Presiding Bishopric. We will serve 18 months. We don't drive tractors or do farm labor, although we are called Agricultural Service Missionaries. (It sounds as though Jay and I can keep our dream alive of living on a farm with no responsibilities for plants or animals.) We'll try not to be too lazy!

Sisters in Zion

We had no particular plans, but all just brought--or didn't bring--as impulse dictated. The weather was rainy so the idea of butt-kicking hikes didn't materialize. Saundra stayed at work until midnight the night before but brought her sewing machine and a couple of projects. Suzanne flew from Seattle bringing cut up onsies and bibs for a quilt and we wondered if there was anything we could do with the tiny pieces with no allowance for seams. Gay drove from Camarillo and brought a few groceries in Cedar, and responding to a last minute request, t-shirts and rubber bands. I had a vague idea of making tie-dye shirts dyed with southern Utah red dirt and brought a few left-overs. This was not an orchestrated reunion, but more a "stone soup" get together.

Here's what we ended up with:

Five days, five kinds of cookies: banana with lemon frosting, Ugandan sim sim

(melted sugar and sesame seeds), mocha brownies, pecan praline and chocolate chip.

Fantastic food: Thai noodles, pasta puttenesca, slow roasted tomatoes with quick roasted broccoli and parmesan angel-hair pasta, crusty bread, chipotle chili and bucketloads of Suzanne's Cesar salad. Whole-wheat pancakes, cardamom granola with yogurt and blueberries, Zoom with raisins and cream.
A wonderful visit with the aunties in Cedar and a yummy meal we didn't have to make.

Yes, this is Weeping Rock, bawling its eyes out.

Two projects:

Tie dye with southern Utah red dirt (above)

Quilt for Suzanne's grandboy including a repurposed dirt-died sheet as background for the blocks (below--We seem to like birth order in these pics)

Wildlife sightings:

Wild turkeys on "the 14"

Whitetail deer on the Spencer Bench road

Desert bighorn ram in Zion

Two foxes dashing across the road on Cedar Mountain

                                             

Hours of visiting, all of us sleeping in the loft due to the fact that we all have FOMA (fear of missing anything) and rediscovering the syncronicity of sisters--the joy of making a suggestion knowing that three others will like it (or will be able to top it with their own good idea); and almost the best of all: being able to settle in with a book for hours at a time guilt-free because everyone else was doing the same thing.  Bliss!

Three hundred thousand miles and counting....

Jay's Prius' odometer stopped dead in its tracks at the number 299,999. We were getting ready to have a celebration at the three hundred thousand milestone, and it refused to turn. Luckily, Jay could set the trip measurement, so had a record of actual miles for the Toyota dealer, who had absolutely no idea what to do. Hey, Toyota! If you are going to make cars that go the distance, make the odometer capable of recording all those miles!  They eventually agreed to replace it, but it bugs to have this instead of all the miles to which it is entitled:

Though it says 75 miles, it's actually 301,849 miles, and we want credit!

Almost 7 years of the 150 miles/day Tooele/Deseret Chemical Depot commute, two cross-country trips, several Yakima and Seattle trips, a few California down and backs, countless cabin trips; a coyote strike, a billion Great Salt Lake insect strikes, a jackrabbit thump--all on the original battery and everything else (except tires and a catalytic converter and a foglight.)  Not bad!!

We call this car Myrna, and I have a pretend battle with the female GPS voice vying for Jay's affection. She never calls him an idiot for asking for directions on the three block ride home from the church (I think he just loves the sound of her voice), and she is ever so patient in saying, "Recalculating. Make a legal U-turn," after she's told him what street to take already. I should take a lesson from her rather than denigrating her constant babble.  Jay is a yakker and wishes I were more so.  I should let him have this digital friend and try to ignore her voice as I read my book, feet on the dashboard while he adds more miles to the Prius record we are undoubtedly setting.

Hopelessly Earthbound

Yesterday I either broke or sprained one of my poor old osteoporotic wrists and lost my glasses I was using as a headband when I fell on a slippery rock in a slot canyon. 

It was one of the best days of my life.

Do you like the pink shoes?

Ninety-degree day, cool water, high twisted sandstone canyon walls, challenging my body, soft air, red sand, good company, plenty of time and a million thrills--watching a water ouzel doing its little bobbing dance on a wet rock near the river, sliding down a 20 foot rock slide into a little pool, inhaling the nostalgic aromas of ponderosa, sage and willow along the river corridor, climbing up a couple of obstacles holding on to ropes and logs and ladders beside crashing waterfalls, and all this the day after sleeping under the stars for two nights watching the Perseid meteor shower after midnight. We ended the day with an impulsive drive to North Rim for dinner. Thankfully, our 9:00 was Arizona's 8:00 and it was the perfect time for a grilled portobello mushroom, lentils and rice. Despite three near-misses in the deer gauntlet of the Kaibab forest, our brakes and Jay's reflexes proved up to the challenge and we arrived safely back at the cabin. A day does not get much better than that.

When I carpooled to BYU from Davis County, I always chose a parking spot next to a tree or a rock. One of my companions in this year-long experience said, "Kathleen, you are hopelessly earthbound." I'll claim it. Push me out of the Garden of Eden.  I'll take a bite every time.

Scheherazade, Paul Wing and the beginnings of literacy

"Hello boys and girls. This is Paul Wing and I'm here to tell you the story of_________________."

So began my love affair with words. Long before I even imagined that letters could make up words and written words could convey meaning, I heard the story of Aladdin, The Brave Tin Soldier, The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins, Seven at One Blow, The Little Engine That Could and many other childhood stories accompanied by fully orchestrated classical music. Imagine the richness of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_pkRH2DZuw will get you started) and the story of Aladdin intertwined, a carefully waxed linoleum floor and a gigantic radio/record player console to lean against with a blanket and you have a description of many contented hours of my childhood.


I hope I get to meet Paul Wing someday. His enthusiastic greeting and expressive voice were on countless vinyl records Mom bought for us with her Record of the Month membership. I almost feel that I know Mr. Wing--and surely he knows me! I was sitting right beside him when he read those stories over and over, each time exactly the same. My sister Suzanne and I could recite in perfect unison, "Happy here in this horrible hut? Huh! I should say not!" using Mr. Wing's exact intonation from the story of the Fisherman and his Wife. We have also both brought it up from our common memory when the occasion has warranted.

Though I don't remember our mom reading to us, Mom and Dad were both voracious readers up until their dying days. Their model as readers and Mom's investment in vinyl records made it easy to develop and enjoy the advantage of a rich vocabulary, familiarity with some fabulous music and life lessons from classic stories. What better way to begin life as a reader?

Low Thrill Threshold and Other Secrets to Happiness

Claire, Jane, Harmony and Max wait for the goods and a chance to get wet

Everything from barefoot beauties driving tractors and otter pops tossed to the crowd (which was only one-person deep and not shoulder to shoulder) to the firetruck's blast high in the air for those willing to get wet, the Panguitch Pioneer-day parade is second only to Kanab's fireworks on the 4th for best summertime small-town celebrations.

Saundra shared an essay with me once about the secret to happiness being having a low thrill-threshhold. I believe it wholeheartedly. More from our low-thrill cabin reunion in Southern Utah:

Making, hiding and finding our own geo-caches

Night hike discovery: tiny glow worms in the low brush beside the dirt road--too bad Ju didn't realize Owen's sippy cup was the ventilated resting place for the one we captured.  Glow little Owie, glimmer, glimmer.....

Spectacular thunder and lightning (nothing makes dirt smell better than rain, especially rain combined with sage and ponderosa)

A perfectly toasted s'more presented by a generous and marshmallowy gifted 14 year old

Sleeping cousins curled up like kittens on the deck as the sun warms them awake.

Bouncing in the pickup on a steep rocky dirt road realizing we've taken a wrong turn somewhere and not caring a bit where we end up

Unplugging and playing hours of card games: Phase 10, Uno, and --in memory of Grandma Bagley--Fourteen on a Corner. (I had to Google it to remember the rules. Irony?)

We've tried all kinds of paint to personalize rocks along the trail, but markers and various kinds of paints were all a "fail" after a year or two of weather. For Christmas, each grandchild received a river rock engraved with their first name, and all but a few are now strategically placed on the trail. Finding a rock with your own name is a thrill time after time.

That fire-engine red claw-foot tub with a good book, handmade soap and time to relax --with water miraculously coming up from the ground clean and abundant!

Einstein said there are two ways to live your life: as if everything is a miracle, or as if nothing is a miracle.  I say the former.