Emergency Service Volunteers

In honor of National Volunteer Week, April 10-16, I thought I would share some of my wonderful experiences with volunteerism.

Last February, I had the opportunity to meet some folks who volunteer with the Brunswick Volunteer Ambulance Association. It wasn’t an opportunity that I had planned. It happened quite by chance.

Since my husband was away on a trip, my dog and I decided to have a pizza party! We do this frequently. We called the local pizza joint and ordered a medium pepperoni pizza. The feast of pizza occurred while I was watching the television news reports. Belle ate her pizza out of her bowl on the floor, and I had mine as I sat on the sofa. It was a grand time.

About forty-five minutes after we had had our dinner, I began to feel a tightness in my chest. It was something that I had never experienced before. I also noticed that might heart rate seemed to be a bit more rapid than normal. Because I was concerned, I decided to open the back door and get some fresh air. I walked around the house for about ten minutes trying to calm myself down and get things back to normal.

When my discomfort continued for more than fifteen minutes, I decided I would call 911 just to chat. I thought the operator would tell me that I was just imagining things and that I would be fine in a few moments. I was quite surprised when she asked me to go to the front door and unlock the storm door. “The ambulance is on its way,” she said. I assured her that it would just be a matter of time before I felt better, but she stayed on the line with me until I could see the ambulance at the corner of the street.

The EMT’s came very calmly into the house and greeted me and Miss Belle. She was quite happy to have company. They took my blood pressure and pulse and watched my breathing. We discussed heart attack symptoms and the tightness in my chest, which had not eased up. All my vital signs appeared to be normal. One of the EMT’s asked if it might be indigestion. I had never had indigestion before. She asked if there might be Mylanta or Tums in the house. I told her that since indigestion had never been a problem that I didn’t keep those things around.

“Baking soda,” she said. “Do you have baking soda?” I showed her to the kitchen and she mixed some baking soda with some water and told me to drink it all. We returned to the living room where the other volunteer ambulance members were. I sat on the sofa and then let out an enormous belch. To say that I was embarrassed would be an understatement. “How does the tightness feel now?” she asked. I belched one more time and was delighted to tell her that it was gone.

That’s when the real feelings of foolishness kicked in. I had these wonderful, caring people in my living room because I had indigestion and didn’t know it! They all assured me that it had been wise to call and that situations like that are precisely why they are on duty. “We prefer these types of calls,” one of the EMTs said.

I know that that night I was very grateful that Brunswick was blessed with such a dedicated group of volunteers. People who are willing to give their time and efforts to provide a service for the community. Be sure to thank the volunteers near your home this month. They truly are lifesavers!

Goodbye my dear friend

Today my Cody went off to that big range in the sky. I will miss him terribly. He was a good friend.

Cody was a carrot fiend. He loved carrots! Of course, he never turned down apples, though. They were just as good to my big guy as those carrots. Cody would sniff your pockets when you went down to the barn, expecting a treat. He could spy the treat bag from a distance and was waiting at the gate to greet you if you were carrying that bag.

Cody was also a big lug. When we went riding in the back field, he'd try to head off to the barn when he got tired and thought the ride was over. Not much for work, he liked to just graze in his field.

Cody was a champion, too! We got at least one white ribbon (4th place, and a few pinks (5th) in our career of competition. I always felt badly if we placed though. It meant taking a ribbon from a nine or ten year old little girl and her horse!

Cody was in the newspaper once, picture and all. We used him as the horse for Don Quixote when the Fredericktowne Players did "Man of La Mancha."

Cody's best buddy was Sebastian. They lived together for several years before they even came to our place. And they were here together grazing in the field for some twelve or thirteen years. Sebby died in August of 2007. Cody took his death rather hard, and so in the spring of 2008, we brought Cocoa to the house to be Cody's new buddy.

In the spring of 2010, Cody was diagnosed with Cushings disease. He lost a tremendous amount of weight during the winter of 2009-2010. So he went on a daily treatment of pergolide. I was never able to put the weight back on him. He hated the weight grower the vet put him on. I would mix it in with his sweet feed, and he somehow manged to get all the sweet feed out and leave the stuff that he didn't like!

I spent sixteen years with that horse, and he leaves me with a hole in my heart. A good friend he was. Rest in peace my buddy.

Hospital Volunteers

In honor of National Volunteer Week, April 10-16, I thought I would share some of my wonderful experiences with volunteerism.

I have been a volunteer with the Frederick Memorial Hospital Auxiliary for almost fifteen years. Each time that I work my volunteer shift, I am continually amazed by the dedication and service of the hundreds of green vest wearers that assist our community. Volunteers greet patients and guests, assist families, sell cards and flowers in the gift shop, raise needed funds for hospital purchases, and are just generally very busy people.

One of those volunteers, whose energy supply I believe is limitless, is Wendy Brundage. I first met Wendy back in 2003 when I agreed to serve as co-chairperson for the Auxiliary’s annual Snow Ball. Wendy was full of new and creative ideas. She ventured to use new vendors and found different and interesting ways to increase the revenue from the event. The following year, when it was my turn to chair the ball, I tried to fill the shoes she left behind, but I had neither the creativity nor the energy to adequately fit the bill.

Wendy went on to serve as President for the Auxiliary. She carried that same energy and innovation with her to the organization’s leadership position. One of the things that never failed to impress me with Wendy’s work was how her family took up the charge and served right along side her. Daughter Katie chaired one of the Snow Ball committees and was mom’s right hand assistance. Even Wendy’s mother was on hand to offer assistance in any capacity that she could. John, Wendy’s husband, was even part of the act. Wendy recruited everyone in her household as well as those in the neighborhood.

An element of volunteerism that often goes unnoticed is the families of volunteers. Whether they are active volunteers themselves or not, they become helpers in the cause. Many people give countless hours of service to our community but are only enabled to do so because of the support that they get at home. I know that even my poor husband has been recruited to help with mailings and running errands. His assistance is something for which I am eternally grateful.

Our community is filled with people who are more than willing to give of their time and of themselves to make the area where we live a better place. The next time you enter Frederick Memorial Hospital, look for a green vest. They’re everywhere. And with that green vest, I am sure that you will find a smiling face that accompanies it. If you are not already a volunteer in our area, consider joining the forces. It is not only rewarding, but you get to meet some amazing folks!

I do like spring. It’s right up there with fall in terms of my favorite seasons. I love the flowers that spring brings. The problem with spring has always been determining her exact arrival date. There have been years when she hasn’t shown up until well into April. I always cross my fingers and hope that she will appear in early March, but that is often wishful thinking.

My college students were duped by Miss Spring very recently. We had a few days of balmy temperatures, and my dear educated students showed up wearing shorts and flip-flops to class. “You silly children,” I told them, “Miss Spring doesn’t show up in February!” They were insistent that the groundhog had determined that she would appear early this year. But I knew better, I have much more experience with the fickle girl!

For many years, my son and I have ventured to Florida for a few days to catch some baseball spring training. Spring has definitely shown her face to Floridians by March. I feel a bit of guilt as I pack my shorts and short-sleeve shirts for our trip. I know that my friends and colleagues will be sporting heavy sweaters, coats and hats while I venture south. I sit in the sun during those games and practices. I bask in the glory of sunny skies and warm temperatures.

But I know deep down that it’s only temporary. When I board the plane to head back north, I am uncertain about what kind of weather will face me when I exit the airport. It’s usually in the airport that I change from shorts to more appropriate clothes. Sometimes I even have to scrape ice or snow from my car when I finally get there.

One year, we got stuck in Atlanta on March 18th. The reason for the sudden stop in our travels: massive snow storm in the northeast. In March! Surely Miss Spring was enjoying her time in Florida too much to head north. Desperate to get home, my son and I flew into Raleigh, North Carolina, rented a car and drove the rest of the way home. We left any hint of spring once we crossed the state line into Virginia.

I realize that our dear friend in Punxsutawney indicated that we would see spring early this year, but as the first of March is rapidly approaching, I am fearful that once again she will take her time getting here. However, the optimistic me did order twenty-five bags of mulch to be delivered the second weekend in March. You never know, she might indeed decide to surprise us!

One of my students

I was discussing with my reading class today how we as teachers can have a huge impact on our students. I shared the story of one of my experiences with a particular student. I had written a journal entry about Jered a year ago, but never posted it here on my blog. Jered and I are now friends on Facebook and he is a teacher himself. I thought it time that I posted that story. So, here it is...

When I first began my teaching career, I had little idea of the impact I might have on my students. During that first year of teaching, I was asked to help out with a particularly difficult 8th grade music class. Because I loved music, I eagerly accepted an assignment co-teaching with the band/chorus teacher. There were about twenty students in the class, so I thought to myself, "How difficult could this be?". I was eager to begin working with them and hoped to instill in them a love of music.

I was in for a rude awakening that first day of class. Most of the ninety-minute class period was spent on behavior management. We were simply trying to get students to perform the activities that met the objectives of the class lesson. The real difficulty was that there were several students who were very interested in learning about music and there were those who quite obviously were not remotely interested in learning anything. To say that class was a disaster would be kind. It made me doubt whether or not I wanted to return. So the other teacher and I began creating our master plan to engage the students and make them want to learn. We drafted a behavior management plan and with the blessings of our administrator, we were off.

For a few weeks, the plan worked. The students were singing, discussing dynamics and harmonies, and it seemed-ever so briefly-that they were learning. After each class, my colleague and I would discuss activities that were working and those that were not. We would adjust things and re-adjust. I felt like progress was being made. We even began to plan for the students’ participation in the county wide choral adjudication. And that’s when the explosion occurred.

It wasn’t really an explosion. It was more like a very dramatic mutiny. Behavior that week went ballistic. My colleague was labeled the good guy-he was responsible for their grading-and I was the wicked witch. Now mind you, I am a theater person and the Wicked Witch has always been one of my favorite roles, just not in this setting. The climate in the classroom by the end of the week was so bad that I walked out. I went directly to the principal’s office and told her I was resigning from the chorus position. She empathized with me and reiterated the difficult demands of the education profession. “Sometimes,” she told me, “we see the results of labors immediately. Sometimes it’s years down the road. And sometimes we never see them. But when we do see them, it makes all the difference.”

That next week, I received a bundle of letters from the students in that chorus class. They apologized for their behavior and asked for another chance. They said they were eager to give their best performance at the adjudication. So, I returned. They pulled off the adjudication and a spring concert with much success. They were very proud of their efforts, and so was I. I saw some of the students on occasion after that year, but those encounters faded off.

Some five or six years later, I was attending a Frederick Keys game and decided to leave early because it was getting cold and I hadn’t prepared for the weather. As I was leaving the stadium and heading to the parking lot, I heard someone call out, “Mrs. Jarman.” I turned around to find Jered, one of the students from that chorus class. “You don’t remember me,” he said. I told him of course I did-how could I forget his class! And then he thanked me. He thanked me for sticking with them, to help them do their best. He said it made a difference for him. In the fall, he would be entering his second year of college on a basketball scholarship. I gave him a big hug. As I walked towards my car, the words of my former administrator rang through my head, “sometimes it’s years down the road.” Yes, I had seen the results of my labors and they made me so happy that I cried the entire drive home.

Mardi Gras

Well, it’s just about time to pull out the Mardi Gras decorations. I’m wondering how many of you decorate for this festive occasion. My son swears that we’re the only people in our community who even recognize the day. But Mardi Gras is a holiday, and this old lady loves a good holiday.

I decorate for any holiday. Of course, there’s Mardi Gras, but there’s also Valentine’s Day, Easter, St. Patrick’s Day, Memorial Day, Flag Day, July 4th, Bastille Day-July 14th (the French National Holiday—but I teach French!), Labor Day (celebrated in May in France), Halloween, Veteran’s Day (Armistice Day), Thanksgiving and Christmas.

In December, we hosted a dinner party at our house and I had my menorah displayed on the hutch near my wall hanging that says, shalom. One of my guests pulled me aside and said, “I didn’t realize that you were Jewish.” I explained to her that we weren’t, but it was a holiday and I love decorations!

Now, I don’t just frivolously decorate. It is important to understand why we celebrate holidays. So my students get lessons on the history of Saint Valentine, Saint Patrick, the treaty of Versailles, labor unions, All Saints, Plymouth and other historical and cultural events. So on March 8th, my students will experience a lesson on Mardi Gras that I have created based on all of my research on this holiday.

Mardi Gras is the official end of the carnival season. Carnival begins on Three Kings Day or Epiphany-January 6th. It is the festival of feasting and celebration before the season of Lent. In my classes, we’ll feast on king cake, and I will explain the Mardi Gras colors: purple, green and yellow. Purple representing justice, green is faith, and gold is power. Mardi Gras in French means Fat Tuesday, so it is a time for eating and celebrating. In France, the day is followed by Mercredi Maigre or skinny Wednesday. We call it Ash Wednesday.

Mardi Gras is celebrated in Frederick by the Women’s Civic Club with their Mardi Gras ball. In 2001, my daughter Tiffany had the wonderful experience of being a Mardi Gras princess. Our family spent the evening dancing and smiling. There were masks and Mardi Gras colors, and a wonderful time was had by all.

But even more importantly, Mardi Gras signifies to me the ending of winter and the beginning of spring. We end the days of hibernating in winter to look forward to the glorious days of spring. Happy Mardi Gras!

Home

I've been thinking about family a lot recently. Family is very important to me. I remember years ago at a concert that we performed in Austria both of my beautiful children sang a duet from "The Scarlet Pimpernel." That song means so much to me, and I hope, to them. I just wanted to share that song. I hope that you have your home. I know that I have mine, and for that, I am truly thankful.

From "The Scarlet Pimpernel"

There is a child inside my heart tonight
No one can see that child but you
If I hold on to you too tight, you understand
You hold me too
You are the one who reaches through the dark
When I'm afraid, you warm the air
And, when I close my eyes to sleep
You are my peace, you are my prayer
You are my home
You make me strong
And in this world of strangers
I belong to someone
You are all I know
You're all I have
I won't let go
Others may leave, but you will still be there
Touching the tears that fill my eyes
When I am lost, you are my light
You are the love that never dies
You are my home
You make me strong
And in this world of strangers
I belong to someone
You are all I know
You're all I have
I need you so
I will not walk away from you!
I will not let you go!
You're the only home I'll ever know
You are my home
You make me strong
And in this world of strangers
I belong to someone
You are all I know
You're all I have
I need you so
I won't let go
You are my home