Once Upon a Potato Bowl

My husband, Dan, attended the University of Idaho, and I attended Boise State University (BSU). These were known as rival schools during our college days, but things changed after BSU's football program took off, and the two colleges ended up in different conferences.

Of course, Dan never misses an opportunity to mention, "U of I is called the Ivy League of the West, you know."

(I don't know who actually calls U of I the "Ivy League of the West," maybe just Dan.)

Dan's "Ivy League of the West" Alma mater is also widely accepted as Idaho's party school, with a more active Greek system than the other state universities.

This year, the University of Idaho had its first winning season since 2009, and it was invited to play in the Idaho Potato Bowl, on BSU's very own blue Smurf Turf. (These titles, Potato Bowl, Smurf Turf, are absolutely, 100% accurate. Welcome to Boise.)

"Idaho is going to play in the Potato Bowl!" Dan said the night it was announced. "Should we get tickets?"

It was the most excited Dan has been about college football in a long time.

The day before the bowl game, I braved the Vandals Store downtown (U of I's mascot is a Vandal) and bought Dan a Potato Bowl shirt. In the store, I heard at least five different conversations about getting drunk that night, the next day before the game, during the game, and after the game. I am 99.9% certain most of the people involved in the discussion were not college-age, unless U of I students look really old. Once a Vandal, always a Vandal, I guess.

"Glad to see you're living up to your Ivy League of the West's reputation," I said in my head . . . not out loud. 

Dan loved his shirt. He wore it for three days in a row.

U of I graduates are proud of their party school status. As my dad, Dan, and I made our way through the metal detectors at the game, a red-faced, middle-aged man, who smelled a bit like beer, leaned over to me and said with a chuckle, "This is the only bowl game where tailgating is more important than the game itself."

Dan had bought us tickets in the middle of the Vandals section. My dad was wearing a Boise State hat. Twenty years ago, when the two schools were true football rivals, this might have gotten us killed. Interesting fact: Lots of Vandals fans also wear BSU gear nowadays. 

When my dad posted on Facebook that he needed hot chocolate while watching this game, some of his friends suggested adding Peach Schnapps or Irish Cream. There was plenty of that to go around. I've never seen so many mini bar bottles smuggled into a game. People all around us were adding stuff to coffee cups, hot chocolate, Sprite bottles.


It wasn't a bad idea, the hot toddy thing. It was fifteen degrees by the time the game ended. The football players were sliding all over the icy field.

The game was an exciting one and not just because it looked like an ice skating rink out there. 2017 is Idaho's last season in the Sun Belt Conference, its last chance to play in a bowl game, and Colorado State is in the Mountain West, the same conference as BSU.

Translation: U of I is a smaller school and wasn't expected to win.

When it looked like Idaho might win, Vandal fans started to say things like, "We weren't expecting this! I don't think anyone expected this!" and "There's still time. We've lost with less time," and "We might win this!" and "I don't drink hard liquor anymore." (I had to throw in that last one. All true.)

By the fourth quarter, the Vandal fans were turning around and high-fiving Dan every time Idaho scored a touchdown.

“Dan’s being social,” I told my dad in surprise.
 
Even I got excited at one point and shouted out, "Idaho, Idaho, go, go, go!"

Dan stuck his index finger in my face and shouted, "Ha ha!"

Before the game started, my brother texted Dan and me, "At least there will be proof that there are still Vandal fans," to which I responded, "Ooh, burn, Dan!"

Yes, Virginia, there are Vandal fans, and they are fun, mostly because alcohol is involved. A few of them almost sat on me. Toward the end of the game, the guy next to Dan fell down the bleachers, and his family and friends carried him off. But the man still looked happy.

U of I beat Colorado State 61-50. One blogger described Idaho's season as a "big middle finger to the rest of the college football world." I'd say, after this bowl game win, that's two big middle fingers to you, FBS. 

My dad, still clad in his Boise State beanie and sweatshirt, commented, "Had fun with the Vandals. Never thought I'd say that."

I knew differently, however. I am married to one after all.

P.S. At least one Idaho team won a bowl game . . .

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Duggan Family Christmas Card 2016

Season’s Greetings from Dan and Becky Duggan! We hope this Christmas holiday finds you in good health and spirits.

I am happy to say I survived two successful months of holiday programs and concerts at Grace Jordan Elementary in Boise, where I serve as Choir Director and General Music Specialist. This spring, my school presented an adapted version of Annie with over one hundred fifth and sixth graders. 

Dan is still busy working as a software engineer at HP. This year, he also raked yards for Rake Up Boise and volunteered for the Hour of Code, helping kids learn how to code at a Treasure Valley elementary school.

I spent much of the summer rehearsing and performing in the Music Theatre of Idaho’s production of Oklahoma, in which I had the honor of portraying the role of Laurey Williams alongside a very talented cast of actors.

In between school and community productions, Dan and I were able to take a road trip through Wyoming, Montana, and South Dakota. We saw Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore, Devil’s Tower, and did some mountain biking in Big Sky. (We almost ran across a bear! I’m not exaggerating! For a more detailed account, see "Time For Another Mountain Biking Post.")

Dan and I participated in the Race to Feed the Hungry over Thanksgiving break, while visiting his family in Eastern Idaho.

As I write this annual card of ours, Dan and I are trying to warm up after running in the single digits with my elementary school students in Boise’s YMCA Christmas Run. Brrr!

So far this holiday season, we plan to take a few cross-country skiing trips, and Dan will probably go snowboarding. The snow has been good in the mountains the last couple of days! We also have tickets to the Idaho Potato Bowl since Dan’s alma mater, the University of Idaho, is playing in it this year.

Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Love,
Becky and Dan

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Thanksgiving Funnies 2016

This year, my husband, Dan, and I spent Thanksgiving with his family in the eastern part of the state. We were running in a race in Idaho Falls on Thanksgiving morning, but Dan and I arrived a half-hour too late to pick up our packets and bib numbers. We went to dinner and a movie instead.

We were waiting in line to get our movie tickets when a little girl, around age three or four, barreled through the door with her family. She ran around the ticket booths, chattering up a storm. All of a sudden, she froze right in front of Dan.

“Long hair?!” she exclaimed, staring at him in shock.

I looked around the theater. She was right. A man with long hair and a beard was an anomaly in that place. We fit right in when we visit Seattle or Portland, and even Boise has quite a lot of long hair and beards. Not so in eastern Idaho, I suppose.

Dan and I decided on an R-rated movie after we saw how many young kids were running around. I would have suggested Moana, but thought better of it when I noticed a child lying on the ground, being dragged by the arm by his mom into that movie.

(I need to borrow a kid so that I can see Moana, preferably a child who won't need to pee every five minutes or talk to me at all during the movie. Let me know if you have any practically comatose children with large bladders I could borrow, for like, two hours.)

Thanksgiving morning, we headed to the race. We had been sent several e-mails stating that late registrants would not be receiving commemorative shirts. We hadn't registered that late, but we already own around five hundred fifty-one race shirts. In other words, that was fine with us.

Due to our "late" packet pick-up the next morning, we also ended up with bibs that said, "I Run Utah" on them.

"Why do you have a different bib?" one runner asked us. "Are you doing the 10K or something?"

"We didn't get into town on time last night . . . so this happened . . . " I told her.

The runner started talking about how the race starts late every year. They were already fifteen minutes past the start time. She said the previous year, it was worse. The runners had to stand around in the snow for thirty minutes.

"People started yelling 'Start the race!' at the officials," she said.

I did finally see a few guys, other than Dan, with long hair and beards at the race. You've gotta stay warm if you're going to run in the winter.

In case you were wondering, the race did begin eventually.

I have this issue when I run in the winter. My ears tear up . . . big time. I am not talking about a bit of moisture around the lashes either. Waterfalls cascade from my eyes, people.

I am pretty sure the volunteers who were cheering us on as we approached the finish line thought, "Look at this woman, so emotional about finishing the race! She must have overcome some obstacles to do this."

I didn't. My eyes are just weird.

I have to brag about our finish though. Dan and I were at the old end of our age group, and Dan got fourth out of the males, ages 35-39, and I got sixth out of the females, ages 35-39. And, before you ask if only ten people were running, there were over five hundred participants.

At the end of the race, everyone tried to give us their coffee mugs. We must look like we drink a lot of coffee. They guessed right.

We drove through a lighting display in one of the local parks our last evening in town. The ticket seller must have been used to families with young kids coming through because she said, "Stop at the tent up top and you can see Santa . . . or . . . " she looked at us again and gave a chuckle . . . "I guess you could take your own pictures instead . . . "

But the best part . . .

The local museum was hosting a traveling exhibit of the American Revolution which we visited with Dan's family. I bet you can imagine what I was doing the entire time . . . (Dan can't take me anywhere.)

"Alexander Hamilton . . . my name is Alexander Hamilton . . ."
"Here comes the GENERAL!"
"One last time . . ."
"LAFAYETTE!"

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I'm Grateful For Stuff Again This Year

It's become a bit of a tradition for me to write an obligatory gratitude post around this time of the year. I thought I might have a little trouble finding things to be grateful for due to a certain, recent national event which shall not be named.

But once I sat down and thought about it, I realized I'm still grateful for stuff.

This year, I'm going to show what I'm thankful for in photographs, partly because this time of year is extremely busy for a music teacher and partly because it's a different angle than years past.

Kind of.

I just looked at last year's blog post, and I have a lot of pictures in that one too. I guess the reality is I'm doing this because I'm a busy music teacher, and I'm cheating.

I'm thankful for my husband, Dan. I don't want to brag, but we are a cool couple. Here we are in October getting ready to watch Hedwig and the Angry Inch. This is what I call "Dan's Scary Rock Star Face." Yeah, my husband's so cool, he takes me to musicals.

Okay, it's kind of weird to talk about your awesome husband and then post of picture of yourself with another guy, but this doesn't really have to do with another guy, friends. I'm thankful that I was able to play such a fun role like Laurey Williams in Oklahoma this past summer. I mean, I'm approaching forty, and I know I won't be an ingenue forever. Maybe I should say, I'm thankful for the genetic makeup I inherited from my grandmother whose claim to fame was, "Everyone says I don't look a day over seventy," when she was in her nineties.

I'm thankful for my job. The pictures above are from this year's Veterans' Day program. Boy, we needed to come together through music this year. It was a cathartic, beautiful experience.

I'm thankful I'm not this guy! (I'm also thankful this guy didn't shoot me when I pulled out my phone and took pictures of his bumper at every stoplight. I noticed he drove away pretty quickly when the lane beside me cleared.) You probably can't read these stickers very well, and that's alright. But this is all I'm going to say about politics today.

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The Year the Veterans' Day Program Turned My Week Around

On Thursday, I posted this to Facebook:

Yesterday, during our final Veterans' Program rehearsal, I had a tough time getting through my beautiful, diverse group of students singing, "Open our ears that we may hear, where there is hate, there will be fear . . ." and "God bless America, land that I love . . . "

I've decided to look at it this way. Today, we're singing for those people throughout the centuries who have kept our country safe and free.

My students, many of them refugees and immigrants, will also sing during this program, "Where there is love, there will peace." That's what we'll focus on . . .

I'm not going to lie. I kept thinking about that scene in The Sound of Music where Captain von Trapp begins to sing "Edelweiss" at the music festival, and he breaks down mid-song, and the music has to be rescued by Maria and his children. Yes, he was fleeing Nazi-occupied Austria that night, but he was also mourning the fragility and breakdown of the country he loved.

This year, I, too, felt conflicted about celebrating my homeland.

As is always the case, music saved me. It felt good to come together with my students, school, and community through this universal language and give a little something back to those who have served and protected us.

If you need some joy in your life this week, here you go . . .

One little girl decided to belt out all of the songs at least a fifth above (translation: much higher than) all of the other kids during the afternoon program.

One third grade boy, who arrived in this country last year, knew every word to every patriotic song and sang so enthusiastically that he conducted most of the music with me.

I heard several stories, after the fact, of certain fifth and sixth graders (a.k.a. cool boys!) in the morning audience mouthing the words of the songs with us.

The day after the program, I asked the classes to reflect on and write down one thing they liked, one thing they learned, and to compliment at least one other person. Several students said they learned, "veterans are very important to our country, and they keep us safe."

I also asked them to assess their individual performances, and they gave themselves the best score possible. Trust me, my kiddos don't have over-inflated egos. What this did tell me is that they felt proud of their performance and of their contribution to the community.

In the end, I guess I loved watching the kids sing from their hearts and share their love of music with their families and the veterans in our audience.

I don't care what side of the spectrum you fall on. You can't argue with the beauty in that.

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Top Five Fall Faves (RE-POST from 11/9/14)

 At least I am consistent. My "Top Five Fall Faves" are the same as they were two years ago, although maybe I should add Asian pears to the list. They rank up there with Honeycrisp apples and pomegranates. It's the simple pleasures in life. Enjoy this reread from 2014! 

I am one of those fortunate people who lives in an area with four distinct seasons.

And fall is here.

It's okay if you're jealous. I would be jealous too. Except, I live here . . . in a city . . . with fall.

Fall comes at the perfect time, right around the time I am getting tired of braving sultry afternoons and looking at people wearing not-so-sultry tank tops.

Here are some things that make the beginning of fall awesome:

1. Honeycrisp Apples
The first time I bit into one of these, I exclaimed out loud, "These really taste like honey! Apples and honey mixed together!"

"You sound like a commercial for honey crisp apples," said the person sitting next to me.

2. Pomegranates
It may be slightly messy to prep a pomegranate, but it is totally worth it in the end.

3. Pumpkin Spice Everything (e.g. lattes, breads, butters)
I occasionally indulge in pumpkin spice stuff regardless of the added sugars and syrups. I mean, there just comes a time when you've got to have a pumpkin spice latte.

4. Running
Running in fall weather is amazing. The air is crisp, not too hot, but still sunny. And the colors of the leaves are beautiful on the trails at this time of the year.

 

Minor confession: I seek out piles of fallen leaves on my path so that I can hear that crunchy sound under my feet. It probably arises from some subconscious, unmet need in my childhood.

5. Not having to mow the lawn anymore (says my husband)
This was Dan's contribution. I'm sure I'll hear complaints about raking up leaves in the next couple of weeks though.

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How I Rocked Halloween This Year

I used to hate Halloween. I mean, it was fine when I was a cute kid. Once you enter that self-conscious adolescent phase though, it's hard to know what to do with yourself on Halloween.

Teenagers in costumes, holding out pillowcases like they expect pounds and pounds of candy, aren't cute anymore. I didn't want to be one of those. I also didn't want to smash pumpkins or throw eggs, not out of some sense of civic duty. I just didn't like the mess it made.

Then I became a teacher at an elementary school, and Halloween became fun again.

My school sponsors an event called "Ghouls at School" every year prior to Halloween. The kids parade through the school, dressed in their costumes, trick-or-treating at the teachers' doors. Several of us teachers even dress up.

It reminds me of trick-or-treating at the mall in Ohio when I was a kid. The store clerks would lock up their businesses and hand out candy, and our parents didn't have to worry about crazy people putting razor blades in caramel apples and popcorn balls.

Ghouls at School is like trick-or-treating at the Ohio mall except we're teachers, and we actually know the kids because they are our students. It's super fun.

This year, I even came up with a rock-star theme. I decorated my door for Red Ribbon Week with rock 'n roll stuff, and I dressed up like a rock star for Ghouls at School. I am the music teacher, after all. My next door neighbor joined me both in decoration and costume, and we were rock stars together.

I was dressed up, ready to go, and I had to attend a meeting at another school (in full costume) before the festivities. They were fellow music teachers. They would understand.

One new-to-the-district colleague did say, "Um . . . don’t take this the wrong way . . . but I don’t know you that well. Are you supposed to be from the ‘80’s . . . or do you always dress like this?"

Best. Question. Ever.

Of course, handing out candy meant I was standing by a full box all evening long. I love candy. What else am I supposed to do between trick-or-treaters?

This year, I couldn't eat any candy because I was fasting for a blood draw. To get decent numbers, I have to practically go vegan for a month, shunning sugar and saturated fat.

Here was my situation: I was fasting, and I couldn't eat any candy even though it was right in front of me, and I was still starving after my meager dinner salad. In other words, I was one step away from bitchy.

I pulled myself together and ended up having a nice evening.

The kids asked, "What are you, Mrs. Duggan?"

And I asked, "What do you think I am?"

And they answered, "A rock star!"

And I said, "Yes and yes! I'm dressed like one, and I am one!"

Then I mumbled as they walked away, "Actually, I'm an opera singer, but who's keeping score?"

 

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Confessions of a Candy Addict (RE-POST from 10/31/15)

This year, I am having blood work done the morning after "Ghouls at School," so I won't be able to eat a bunch of Halloween candy that night. I wonder how that will go . . . In the meantime, enjoy re-reading this confession I wrote last year about my slight addiction to sugar.

I have a love-hate relationship with Halloween. I love it because, as an elementary music teacher, I get to sing fun Halloween songs with all of my cute students.

I hate it because it reveals my darker alter ego: Becky the Candy Addict.

I have always had a sweet tooth. I probably inherited it from my grandmother who always ate her dessert first.

Last month, I went on a sugar fast and limited my dairy intake to only non-fat varieties (I already eat mostly vegetarian) right before my annual doctor's appointment. My numbers were fantastic this year, and I felt really good too.

But then Halloween rolled around, and the candy showed up in the faculty room.

The faculty and staff put on an event called "Ghouls at School," and the students return to school in the evening to trick-or-treat at all of the teachers' classrooms. A few hours before, a huge box of candy is delivered to our doors, and we, teachers, have been know to partake before the kids show up.

The morning after Ghouls at School, I found two of my choir students pointing to my trash can with looks of amazement.

"Mrs. Duggan, look at all of the candy wrappers!" one of them exclaimed.

"Um . . . yeah?"

"Have the kids eaten that much candy already this morning?" she asked. (Several of my choir students had smuggled candy into the music room that day.)

"I think that may have been from last night . . . You know, the teachers eat candy too sometimes."

And by "teachers," I meant "your music teacher, Mrs. Duggan."

"You guys ate a lot."

I sighed, "I know . . ."

That afternoon, I realized I had a problem. I was having a pleasant conversation with our custodian, but I wasn't listening.

All I could think about was, "When is he going to leave so that I can eat all of that leftover candy in my desk?" I couldn't eat it in front of him because that would be embarrassing.

When I walked out to my car at the end of the day, I thought for sure that people could tell how much candy I had eaten that day just by looking at me. I felt ashamed. So I did what any reasonable person would do.

I took the rest of the candy home to my husband.

I may look healthy in my mountain biker costume, but that pumpkin full of candy was not safe around me. My husband, Dan, and I have already decided we will start avoiding sugar again the day after Halloween.

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The Night I Was Visited By a Snake, a Pig, and a Vampire

Many of my faithful readers know I recently jumped on The Walking Dead bandwagon. Yes, I am still watching the show. No, I am not sure how long I will be able to stand it because my sleep is suffering.

My husband, Dan, doesn't believe that The Walking Dead is causing my weird dreams. He points to all of the night terrors and strange issues that have plagued my sleep for years. But I know The Walking Dead is playing a role in unleashing my dormant anxieties. Take, for instance, last night. I had three odd dreams, back-to-back.

"You can't blame The Walking Dead," Dan insisted. "None of these dreams were about zombies."

They were WEIRD though.

DREAM #1: Snakes (or something)

I was a teenager again (unfortunately), and I came home from school to find out that my mother and father had decided we needed five snakes. These were not normal snakes. They seemed somewhat prehistoric and made this sound, "rarr, rarr, rarr," as they hopped up and down in their cage, which was way too small for them.

"Those aren't snakes. They look like they belong on Medusa's head," I said. "Don't look them in the eyes. You may turn into stone." (Apparently, I make mythological allusions in my dreams.)

The cage was way too small for them. One snake hopped out. Everyone in the house freaked out. The snake shape-shifted into something resembling a scaly-skinned poodle and hopped over to me.

"Rarr, rarr, rarr!"

I held still so as not to alarm it and waited for it to go away.

According to my dream dictionary, snakes mean you are about to be seriously betrayed.

"It also says snakes mean you are enslaved by sexual passion," Dan read. "I like that interpretation better."

"You would," I said. "Besides, the sexual thing is only if the snake coils around you. There was no coiling. Just, 'Rarr, rarr, rarr.'"

DREAM #2: Baby Pig

In my next dream, I was an adult again and attending a class where we were learning how to herd escaped pigs into a pen. I don't even know if that's a thing, but in my dream it was. I picked up a baby pig, and I held it and cried and cried. I couldn't stop thinking that this cute baby pig who just wanted to run around and play would have to be confined to a pen. I couldn't stop crying. I woke up from this dream for a moment and was actually crying in my bed. I am still tearing up right now just thinking about the overwhelming sadness I felt.

My dream dictionary says pigs are bad news for work but good news for the family. Maybe Dan will get laid off at work, but we'll get to move somewhere fun like Portland or Seattle (or Canada if a certain orange-faced reality show star gets elected as president).

DREAM #3: Vampire With a Gun

In my third dream, I ran into a vampire I had dated a long time ago. It must have been a bad breakup because he was not happy with me. (I don't know what I did. This dream started in medias res.) He pointed a gun at me. It seemed unnecessary since . . . well . . . he was a vampire and could just drink my blood if he wanted to kill me. Love won out though, and he decided he liked me again. I don't know where Dan was in all of this.

"These dreams are not about The Walking Dead," Dan said the next morning. "Besides, you're reading a book about vampires right now."

(I am. My friend wrote a book. You should read it too.)

"The dream dictionary says a vampire means, 'You are full of fears for the future,'" I told Dan and then added, "of your husband losing his job."

"Where does it say that?" Dan said.

"Well, it doesn't say that last part, but it does say I am full of fears for the future."

"Becky," he said with a sigh, "that just sounds like your regular neurotic self."

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The Day My Husband Was Proven Right

My husband, Dan, and I went for a fall bike ride on Boise's Greenbelt last week. It was beautiful. We will probably go for another ride this weekend. But this story is not about what a gorgeous city Boise is during the fall or how lucky we are to live in a community with so many wonderful trails and recreational areas. All of that is true, of course.

But this is a story about the day my husband was proven right.

Dan has been bugging me for years to raise my bike seat. I like it when my feet touch the ground. I am short, and my feet don't touch the ground very often when I sit on things. It's kind of nice that my feet touch the ground when I am sitting stationary on my bike.

But, alas, you are not supposed to be able to do that.

Dan and I were attempting a selfie on one of the Greenbelt bridges, when a woman walking a cute bull dog offered to take a picture of us.

"You need to raise that saddle," the woman said to me. "I used to own a bike shop. You're not getting enough extension." 

She turned to Dan, "You're extending perfectly. She needs to raise that saddle."

"I tell her that all the time," he said with a satisfied (but slightly hesitant What-Will-Becky-Do-To-Me) smile, "don't I?"

I nodded.

"Seriously, you'll have more power. Your legs won’t be as sore. You'll have better extension in your knees. It will feel weird at first," she said, "but you'll be able to keep up with him."

She gestured toward Dan.

(Unlikely. I’m too chicken to keep up with him.)

“Raise that saddle!” she recommended one last time before she left us.

“I think it’s been sinking," I said to Dan as we started to ride off. "It wasn’t always this low."

Dan rode behind me in silence.

"Okay! You can raise my seat but only because she had me at my legs won’t be as sore. And only because she told me as an expert, not because of anything you said.”

He continued to ride behind me in silence, but I could feel the grin creep across his face.

We raised the saddle as soon as we got to the parking lot. Another downside to raising the saddle? I slam my crotch against the seat every time I stop.

“How does that feel?” Dan asked after I had ridden around for a few minutes.

“Fine. My vagina feels fine.”

That night, Dan caught me taking notes on my laptop about our encounter with the bike shop lady.

“Are you writing a blogging idea?" Dan asked, "about how your husband is always right? He is often right. You must admit that.”

I groaned. 

Biking experts, don’t judge me by the saddle height in this picture. It’s adjusted now!

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The Ghost in the Music Room: Part 2 (RE-POST from 10/24/15)

 I overheard a conversation in my school hallway the other day. Apparently, our little ghost friend has been freaking out some of the new staff members. It made me think of my experiences with the school ghost over the years, although I will say my room has been relatively quiet lately. But have fun rereading about my past paranormal encounters in this post from 10/24/15!

Halloween is upon us, and the school ghost is wreaking havoc once again. Last year, I told you about "The Ghost in the Music Room (also re-posted last week)." Well, as it often happens with our paranormal counterparts (I guess), she is still hanging out.

One second grader, new to our school, insists that a ghost follows him from the music room. When his teacher picks up the class, we watch him slowly turn his head and warily glance at the empty space behind him, as he tiptoes away from my classroom.

"Okay, that's creepy," the second grade teacher whispered hoarsely one afternoon.

"And I haven't even mentioned my ghost to your kiddos," I hissed. "I quit doing that a year ago when I realized I was traumatizing the classes."

Two of my teacher friends were alone in the building one weekend. One of them walked down the hallway and turned on the laminator. She heard a male voice coming from the third grade classroom down the hall, but when she reached the room, the door was locked, and everything was off.

(The next Monday, she and the third grade teacher made sure nothing electronic had accidentally been left on over the weekend. Everything was completely shut down.)

She raced to the other teacher's classroom, and the two of them ventured back down the third grade hall. On their way past the room with the laminator, they realized the door, that had been open just minutes before, was closed and the machine was off. Nobody else was working in the building that weekend.

The night custodian swears that, every once in a while, she hears someone press the handicap button on the playground doors. When she goes to investigate, one of the doors has opened like someone has exited the building.

But she is the only one there at that time.

One morning, I came to school to find the lights flipping on and off throughout the building. In my classroom, the top bank of lights went off, while the bottom bank stayed on.

Another day, the surround speakers in the music room wouldn't work unless someone held down the button on the sound box the entire time.

Oh, and the LCD projector turned on by itself when I walked into my room one day. At least, the ghost is trying to be helpful.

I have a friend who does some amateur ghost-busting. She says it sounds like a manifestation of certain energies rather than a specific benevolent (or malevolent) spirit. She even offered to ghost-bust our school. But I was too scared to asked the principal for overnight access. He already thinks I'm kind of crazy.

Maybe someday though, my school will end up on Ghost Hunters or something. How cool would that be?

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Jumping On The Walking Dead Bandwagon

I recently jumped on The Walking Dead bandwagon. My most faithful readers may remember that I resisted watching the show when my husband, Dan, started binge-watching the episodes on Netflix a few years ago.

I have only watched the first season and a half, but I'm pretty sure it's just a soap opera with a few zombies thrown in to pacify the anti-soap-opera folks.

In other words, Dan has been tricked into watching a soap opera for six seasons. He will never be able to make fun of my mild General Hospital addiction again. They even started the show off with the man-in-a-coma and my-best-friend-slept-with-my-wife tropes. To make this clear to Dan, I have been doing my best "The Californians" impression from SNL right in the middle of watching Walking Dead episodes.

"Shane, wwhhaat are yyyyou doing here-ah?"

My spot-on SNL impressions alleviate the tension because watching this show is totally stressful. When I posted that I had finally been convinced to watch The Walking Dead, so many of my Facebook friends commented on how much anxiety this show causes. Some of my friends quit watching mid-season. Other friends never started because, like me (until now), the sounds from their husbands' screens grossed them out too much.

I haven't been able to stop watching. It is like a train wreck. It would probably be less traumatizing if I looked away, but I can't. So I live with a sleep disorder instead. Here are the dreams, nightmares, and terrors from the first week I watched The Walking Dead.

Night 1: Weird Apocalypse Dream
I had a weird dream about the Apocalypse, although it wasn't a zombie apocalypse. Actually, the Apocalypse hadn't even happened yet. It just loomed in the future.

For some reason, all of the progressive liberals were fleeing to colonize a different universe. I decided not to leave the job I loved (even though it meant I had to stay behind with a bunch of conservatives).

I knew the Apocalypse would happen sometime, and I figured there was no use worrying about it. It's not like my dream gave me an exact timeline or anything.

"That’s a very sensible way of looking at the Apocalypse," Dan said the next morning. "Now what exactly did that have to do with The Walking Dead?"

Night 2: Night Terror
"Don't tell me everything is okay!" I yelled over and over at Dan.

I have no recollection of this, but Dan said I kept yelling this at him in different voices which could have been pretty funny if you think about it. Like, what if I was yelling it at him as Minnie Mouse? Hilarious!

Night 3: Chased By Zombies
Then I had a nightmare about being chased across a field by zombies, and I ended up hiding behind a pew in a church with a bunch of random strangers.

"That would be cool!" Dan said.

Night 4: Drug Ring
The next night, I dreamt Dan was shooting up heroin. In fact, he was doing heroin with a bunch of different people, and I couldn't get him to stop.

"Becky, that was the news story about the heroin problem in Idaho you fell asleep to," Dan told me when I woke up. "Your dreams have nothing to do with The Walking Dead. You just dream about whatever you see right before bed."

According to Dan, The Walking Dead goes to a crazy place. He has also indicated that it is one of those Game of Thrones-esque shows that kills off favorite characters indiscriminately. Awesome. I have already teared up a few times. (No judging! It is a soap opera after all!)

Like I said, I have only gotten through the first season and a half. I'm not sure I will be able to last much longer due to potential worsening of my already neurotic sleep disorders. But, hey, let's have another discussion when (and if) I catch up.

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Awesome First Days of School: Part 2

 

I know, I know. Last week, I wrote a blog post also called "Awesome First Days of School." I'm cheating. I'm still in the early honeymoon stage of the school year where my students' antics are funny rather than annoying. You simply have to put up with one more week of hilarious kid anecdotes because, well, I'm a school teacher, and I have the material.

Party in the Bathroom!

One kindergartner was told she couldn't use the bathroom anymore because she was "partying in the bathroom.”

I found this out when she asked if she could use the bathroom (and was simultaneously clutching herself and dancing around). 

One of her classmates cried out, "She's not allowed to! She parties in the bathroom!" 

Apparently, this is true. She returned to her classroom one day, after being gone a long time, and announced she had a party in the bathroom, and that's why she had been gone for so long.

Drama Queens

A group of third grade girls insisted they were supposed to come in for Veterans Day art team at lunch time. I hadn't even assigned the art team yet or finished auditioning all of my classes.

“We have to see Mrs. Duggan," they told the principal. "It’s our destiny!”

He walked them to my room to check with me.

He came back a few minutes later to tell me, after I had sent them away, one of the girls took in a deep breath and said, “Let’s pretend like that never happened!”

"You have some little actresses on your hands," my principal said.

Casanova
I have been telling my choir-age students that their younger siblings can sit quietly and watch choir rehearsal before school until adult supervision arrives on the playground.

"But my little brother really likes girls, so I'm afraid he might talk," one of the fourth grade girls said, greatly distressed.

“Who’s your brother?” I asked. "Whose class is he in?"

"He’s four. He doesn’t go to this school."

"Why would he be at our choir rehearsal then?"

She stared at me in confusion.

"He doesn't come to school with you. He’s not going to be at choir with you, is he?" I asked again.

"Oh, no. I guess not."

Lookin' Pretty Good For My Age
Some of my first graders were trying to figure out my age. I go through this with my students in every grade level at least once a year. I told them I was 105 because I like messing with their minds.

“You’re in your twos!” one of the boys said.

"You mean, in my twenties?" I asked, highly unlikely seeing how this is my sixteenth year as a teacher.

"Yeah!"

"Thank you! You're my new best friend!" 

Then the conversation sounded a bit like this.

"I'm in my ones."

"No you're not! You're in your zeroes."

"I'm in my teens."

"No you're not."

One child turned my way again and proclaimed, "You're in your fifties!"

Yikes! I'll take my twos any day!

I call this picture, "Not In My 50's, Or Even My 40's, Yet"

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Awesome First Days of School

 

I had a great summer, but I love my job too. It is always fun to get back into a routine and see my students, their new haircuts, their new tennis shoes, and the several inches of height they gained over the break.

In keeping with tradition from the past few years, here is my annual beginning-of-the-school-year blog post.

Welcome to the Awesome First Days of School!

The Way To My Heart
I booted up my laptop the first day of school and found a new folder on the desktop entitled, "Happy First Day of School!" I was trying to remember if I had created some weird presentation for my students when I clicked on it and found a Jack White album inside. Forget flowers! My husband, Dan, knows the way to my heart is music.

Funny Little Kindergartners
The first week of school is hilarious because none of the kindergartners can open the bathroom door next to the music room. It is so heavy, especially for those little ones!

That age group also has a difficult time with my name. I get called everything from, "Mrs. Pooban" to "Mrs. Doogie" to "Mrs. Duncan." Usually, "Mrs. Duggans" is about all I can hope for from the kindergartners.

I also have kindergartners who think I live in my music room. One little boy was amazed that I was in the gym one evening for a school event. As I was getting ready to leave, he asked, "Are you going back to music?"

"I'm going to my home," I told him.

He looked horrified.

"I live in a house, not at school, just like you."

He continued to look at me as though he thought my house must be located somewhere in outer space.

After music class one afternoon, the kindergartners were holding sit spots, getting ready to line up at the door. I accidentally brushed past one boy who had been diligently holding his spot in his hand.

A voice that sounded like an old stoned hippie rang out behind me, “You made me drop my dot, MAN!”

Music Teacher From The Black Lagoon
Every year, I read a book called The Music Teacher from the Black Lagoon to my second graders. It is about a boy who is scared to death of his new music teacher, and he describes several humorous scenarios he has overheard only to find out (Spoiler Alert!) she is not so bad after all.

As soon as we read the part about Miss LaNote singing opera in your ear, one of my students started imitating what he interpreted to be opera, a melody full of nonsense words, until I turned the page.

When it mentioned kids having to perform a concert in front of the WHOLE school (supposedly a scary thing for the character in the book), one of my students whispered, “Awesome!”

I guess my students are pretty sure of themselves in their music class.

What I Did Last Summer
I like to tell my students about my summer break (so they know I'm not from the Black Lagoon). I showed the kids this picture (see below) from my trip through Yellowstone, and one fourth grader asked, "Where’s his smile?"

"Mr. Duggan thinks this is smiling," I told the kid.

My students also loved my mountain biking bear story.

My Kids' Favorites
After I told the kids about myself, we played a getting-to-know-you game where they answered questions about their favorite things.

I heard one girl tell her partner that Vanilla Ice was her favorite singer ("me and my mom's favorite," were her exact words), and she started to disco.

Another fifth grader said his favorite subject in school was music. (I almost cried.)

And a third grader said, "I hate school."

And I said, "But you love music!"

And he grinned and admitted, "Yeah."

Choir Is Going To Be Crazy
One of my sixth graders glanced around the room during her music time and said, "We're going to have lots of people in choir from this class!"

How about from every class?

I have ninety-two kids signed up this year.

I am having stress dreams about choir.

Interesting Music Lingo
One of my sixth graders called a "sharp sign" a "hashtag." Hilarious. Like no one's ever heard that before, buddy.

But this next one really was funny and said in all innocence.

I was trying to help my second graders recall the term "the music staff," and one girl shouted out, "the music steak!"

Here, kids. Maybe you should watch this . . .

For more school funnies, see "Awesome First Days: Part 2"


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Funny Kid Stuff (or So Begins the School Year) (RE-POST from 9/21/15)

This is a blog post I wrote during the 2015 school year. Enjoy this blast from the past!

The first thing I realized a few weeks ago, as the summer drew to a close, was that I would have to stop swearing so much. I develop bad habits when I am not around children. But I am glad to report that nothing has slipped out yet, and I have been back in Elementary School Teacher Mode for almost four weeks now.

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know that my job is entertaining at times. And I have once again collected my share of interesting anecdotes over the first month of school. Here are a few of my favorites to start off the year.

1. Just Making Sure You're Aware, Mrs. Duggan . . . 
I was standing outside my classroom door, which happens to be next to the boys' and girls' bathrooms, when a kindergartner wandered up to me.

She announced (not in her "inside voice"), "I have the boys' pass, but I'm using the girls' bathroom because the other pass is gone, and I REALLY have to go potty!"

2. When in Doubt, Call Me Mommy . . .
I have my name posted by the music room door, and I was showing the second graders where to find it because kids tend to forget my name from time to time.

One little girl had her own solution to this problem.

“Once I got confused and called you ‘Mommy.’ Remember?” she said.

3. Take the Bucket With You . . . 
During the first week of school, the kids started dropping like flies. You know the stomach flu is going around an elementary school when children walk to the nurse's office, carrying a trash can under their chins.

4. No Laughing Matter . . . 
As I was heading to my car after school, one little boy walked past me with his mother.

He greeted me with, "I think I got centipede poop on my nose!"

His mother immediately said, “You were just told not to say that word anymore! That is not funny! Do you understand me? You are not being funny!”

I actually thought it was a little funny. But I also don't have to listen to him talk about poop twenty-four-seven.

5. Philosophical Discussions About Underwear . . .
I was reading Froggy Goes to School by Jack London to my first graders. In it, Froggy goes to school in his underwear, but then he wakes up and discovers that it was just a dream, and all of the kids in the class breathe a sigh of relief.

This year, one of my boys was very concerned, “But what if it was real?”

"It wasn't real though. It was just a dream," I explained.

"But what if it wasn't a dream? What if it was real?"

"I guess he'd be pretty embarrassed. I think his mom and dad would stop him before he got on the bus. Don't you?"

"I don't know . . ."

6. More Truth To This Than You Think . . .
I always get the most interesting answers to the question, "Why are we learning music?"

This year, one of my students responded with, "Just in case we want to be 'magicians' when we grow up."

That's actually more accurate than you know, kid . . .

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

How I Survived the First Week of School (RE-POST from 9/2/12)

This post was originally written in 2012. A few of the references are a little dated now, although we are headed toward an election once again . . .

 Here is how I survived the first week of school:

• I avoided coverage of the Republican National Convention (too crazy and a little depressing) . . . unless it was on The Daily Show or The Colbert Report.
• I ate leftovers all week. As an equal-opportunity-loving feminist, I would have been happy to let Dan cook for us. And Dan, also an equal-opportunity-loving feminist, would have been happy to do so. But we would have ended up eating cheese quesadillas every night.
• I repeated this mantra: "Labor Day is just around the corner."
• Caffeine! And only because Valium is a controlled substance.
• Chocolate! And only because Valium is a controlled substance.
• Zumba! A little healthier than Valium.
• I laughed with my colleagues. We have plenty of material at an elementary school.
• I focused on anecdotes like this: A little student of mine, who looks just like my brother did at age six, called a picture of a trumpet a "trump-bone." Adorable!

At the end of the first week of school, Dan and I were both comatose by 9:00, even though I had been the one herding six hundred kids all week.

"When can we retire?" he asked. He was having sympathy fatigue, I guess.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

As Summer Draws to a Close . . . (RE-POST from 8/22/15)

Summer is drawing to a close once again. It seems like it goes by quicker every year. Here is last year's summer's end blog post, originally published 8/22/15. 

My summer is drawing to a close in the best way possible. Unfortunately, because I am having such a great time, I am also finding it difficult to update my blog. I will just share a few of the highlights from the past couple of weekends. Maybe I'll be able to go into more detail later (especially about the cutie in the middle of the page) . . .

1. Rise Against: My husband, Dan, and I went to the Rise Against concert. Dan (yes, quiet Ninja Dan!) actually asked some strangers if we could share their table. This was mostly for my benefit since I have a hard time seeing at concerts. They were happy to share because it meant they could take smoke breaks, and we could save their seats. They also told us we looked about their age . . . twenty-four.

Best. Concert Friends. Ever.

2. Visiting My New Nephew: The morning after the concert, Dan and I drove to Pocatello to meet Desmond, my new nephew. He was only five days old at that time, and I am hoping to go into more detail in the next few weeks, once my schedule calms down. (P.S. I did get permission from my brother and sister-in-law to plaster these adorable photos all over my blog!)

This picture raised some eyebrows on Facebook, like, "Hey, look what happened to Dan and me over the weekend!"

This is the father, guys, calm down.

3. Rehearsals for Chess the Musical: Rehearsals are in full force for the latest production. I chose this as a highlight because I get to be in a show with, not only gorgeous music, but some of my favorite people as well. You may remember my "chess experience" blog post from a couple of weeks ago.

4. Shakespeare: Dan and I watched our penultimate Idaho Shakespeare Festival production for the season. It is always sad to have to wait another year for more Shakespeare, but we really enjoyed watching King Lear last weekend.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.