Sandra Rose Hughes

I had an unprecedented amount of traffic on my blog this month. So much traffic, in fact, that I began wondering what on earth I had written or done that made so many people visit my blog. A little on-line sleuthing soon delivered some answers. It turns out that President Obama recently presented Harper Lee with a special award for her book _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Apparently "Harper Lee President" was a popular search title on Google for a few weeks, and my blog post, " Harper Lee for President" was in the top 6, so quite a few people clicked on it. What a fun, serendipitous thing to happen. I am still working in my short story, "Alvinia." I am developing the character of Mistress Georgette, who is the primary mover and shaker in the story. She is the character in the story most like me, or should I say, most like who I would like to be. The title character, Alvinia, is a fairly flat character- your general, run-of-the-mill pretty girl with a little spun

I found this in some old computer files. I wrote it during my first year of teaching and forgot all about it. It's a spoof on, "Camp Grenada," by Allan Sherman. Hello Mother, hello Father, I’m a new teacher at Kern Valley School requires a lot of training And they say we'll all teach well when they’re explaining But I was teaching and lecturing When I noticed they weren’t listening they were talking, they were laughing, all my students are so aggravating. All the students hate the teachers And my classroom’s full of creatures from the food that kids have left there All these ants are climbing up on my chair. I went out to see my car, They had keyed it, they’ve gone too far! they egged my house and ding-dong ditched it And they laughed at me when I pitched a fit. Take me home, oh Mother Father, Take me home, I’m bad at teaching! Don't leave me in my classroom where the smell of body odor lingers everywhere. Take me home I promise I will make your meal Or wash your

We are studying Romeo and Juliet in my 9th grade class right now. We had a class discussion on Love at First Sight and whether it existed or not. This led to a discussion of what True Love really is, and that conversation yielded what I feel are some tragic statistics. Out of 50 freshmen, 4 believed in the existence of "True Love," 16 said they didn't know, and 30 said they didn't believe it existed. Where are the ideals of 60% of these kids? They are 15 and 16 years old...isn't that when you should believe in Love? Sadly, I estimate that at least 25% of these students are already sexually active. Perhaps their opinions on love could explain why it seems that they have few morals when it comes to sex. Maybe they think, why wait for Love when it's not real? Of the 4 who did believe in love, they gave some interesting evidence. Also interestingly, these are students who I am fairly certain are not sexually active. #1 said, "I've watched a lot of romant

She kept daydreaming about the gun. There it was, in the little box. The men always kept it loaded, "just in case." When her husband had first brought the gun into the house, she had not been pleased, but that made no difference. She had never liked guns. Now, however, she found herself thinking about them in detail- specifically, the sounds. A bang, and then a silence. The silence is what she was most interested in- being silent, and quiet, and still. A sleep that no alarm clock would interrupt for her. It's not that she was miserable. She was just...tired. It seemed like the harder she worked at her job, the more responsibilities they gave her. Day in, day out, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. For years she had worked, and now she was just tired of it. She could have just waited it out until retirement...but she was tired of waiting things out, tired of doing the sensible thing. Tired of being a sheep. She had often thought that suicide was

Whenever I say to my husband, "honey, I'm reading a new book..." he gets this crazed, glazed-over look in his eyes. He knows that this means I will develop some wonderful new idea that I am convinced will change everything for the better....and turn our lives upside down in the process. He knows it is no use to try to dissuade me, I must try the new idea, even if it kills us both. So when I told him I wanted to learn more about investing in the stock market, Anthony wasn't exactly thrilled, but as usual, he let me have the freedom to try it out. And what's the first thing I do? Step knee-deep into a steaming, feculant pile of scam. I even managed to rope my supportive father in with me. My Dad and I both signed up for the "Rich Dad, Poor Dad Stock Success" 3-day workshop, which we paid $200 for the privilege of attending. It seemed like it was going well for the first day. It was all so simple. Learn their system and you can quit your job, make more mon

During my Junior Year of College, I studied abroad at Oxford for a Semester. It has by far been one of the best experiences of my life. You can see above some of the adventures I had. Picture #1: This is me and a friend from my program in the stocks at Warwick Castle. Picture #2: This is me and another friend at Shakespeare's House in Stratford on Avon. I'm the one in the grey sweater. Picture #3: My twin sister Carolyn (La Therapista) and I went to Bath together. I'm the one with the red hat. I had many adventures in Oxford...but the one I will tell you about today has to do with the boy I left behind in America. Anthony and I had met in the December of 2002, the winter of my Sophomore year. You can read that story here at the post, "Can Stripping in Your Car Lead to True Love." Although I knew that I cared for Anthony deeply, I still had mixed feelings about making any sort of commitment to him, especially knowing that I would be gone for 3 months in the fall

At night, the trailer cats wake us up by running under the trailer, chasing and yowling at each other. Sometimes they run back and forth on top of trailer and other nights, mewing to be let in through the ceiling vents. When we let them inside, they are calm most of the time, but if they start running after one another, they can make the entire trailer shake. We have a small herd of trailer cats: three to be exact. There are 30 feet in our trailer, so you would think that would give each cat about 10 feet to itsself, but...they all want to be in the same spot, of course. Bango is the white Calico. She is the oldest, the first, and the head honcho. She keeps the other two in line and is the first to pick a fight. Tail-light is the tortoise shell. She is second oldest, everyone's favorite, and never worries about who's in charge. She just plays. She will play with cats, people, and even dogs. Mystery is the grey one. She is the youngest, the laziest, the scaredest, and the needie

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet" We are studying Romeo and Juliet in class right now, so yesterday we discussed whether we would still be ourselves if our parents had named us something different. I shared with the darlings that my parents had named me Sandy after one of my father's favorite cousins. I have only met my 2nd cousin Sandy a few times, so I don't have very many ideas about who she is- but I got the impression from my father that she was a sweet, caring person. Something else I shared with the darlings is that Sandra means, "Helper of Mankind." I have always taken pride in the idea that I was a "helper." I don't like to see pain or suffering- I want to make the world a better place. One of my spiritual gifts is Mercy, and when I see tragedy my heart breaks every time. I believe that is the sort of person Jesus would want me to be, too- someone who puts an end to suffering and

Dear Spring, I have noticed that you are trying to keep from doing your job for as long as possible this year. The frost is still arriving every morning and just last week, we had snow! This is unacceptable. Why should we be penalized for your tardiness? You had better come soon! I'm sorry, I know how mean that must have sounded. I didn't mean to be so harsh- I really love you, Spring, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. It's just that it's been so very cold lately and we're all getting a little antsy down here. I'm tired of being cold and wet and in the dark. I'm tired of empty gardens and defrosting the windshield of my car. I know you're probably with Summer and Fall, partying it up, but don't you think it's time to come down here now? If you would only come soon, I promise I would plant some carrots in your honor. Sincerely- Sandy