A House Full of Britts

We toured the North Carolina State Capitol Building with Dad - and we discovered the State Geologist room on the third floor. He was so excited!

For those of you who don't know, my brother Ben is leaving on his mission to Santiago, Chile in January. I'm so proud of him! Because we aren't going home for Christmas this year, we decided that he should visit us before he leaves. After we made the travel arrangements, word came through that Dad had some business to take care of in Washington, DC around the same time and so he decided to visit us before heading up to DC. It was so great to have them both here and to get to show them some of the highlights of life here in NC.

This is an actual piece of "art" proudly displayed on Henderson's Welcome Avenue. We thought Ben and Dad should see it.

The first highlight (and the main one in our lives) is school. Dad not only came to school with me - but he taught all of my classes all about Dinosaurs. It was so amazing. He was a great guest speaker and had the kids laughing and askin questions. That's what happens when your Dad is a world-renouned paleontologist and you happen to teach Earth Science. Thanks for sharing your great wisdom with us, Dad!

On Saturday we spent the morning playing tennis and bacci ball. It was a little chilly, but a great time. Dad got to use Andre Agassi's raquet and played like a pro! Ben showed off his tennis skills recently acquired during his Senior year. We hadn't played together since he joined the team last spring, so it was really awesome. Check out some sweet action shots!

That night we all went to a University of North Carolina basketball game. Jackson got us some "upgraded" seats at half time and we enjoyed the game in comfort.

Saying goodbye to Ben at the end of the weekend was hard, but I'm so proud of him and I know that he'll be a great missionary. I love you Ben!! Thanks for coming out and spending such a wonderful weekend with us. Dad, I hope you'll come out again soon!

EminOlsen

Teaching is a battlefield of the mind. You've got to find ways to keep the students engaged and invested in their education. If you don't, the streets will provide a Cornucopia of illegal alternatives.

So as a teacher, I've always tried to keep my material fresh, even when it comes to topics seemingly booky like the Gettysburg Address. How does one get a gang member to give a flying crap about Lincoln's tribute to a blood-soaked battlefield?

Speak their language.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!!!

The first snowfall of the year

When we first arrived in North Carolina, I remember asking a colleague if we could expect snow during the winter.

"It hasn't snowed once in the six years that I've been here," was her reply.

Shortly thereafter, we were hit with a (child size) blizzard. Five inches of snow covered the central region of North Carolina. School was canceled for three days straight, and all the essential food items had been ransacked from the grocery stores as though the War of Revelation had begun (see our post on 2/6/10). Celeste and I didn't mind our old wintery friend snow, while those around us treated it as though it were extra-terrestrial - strange and threatening.

Fast forward to last night, when we received our first (and maybe last) snow of the season. This time it was a modest 1-2 inches, but it still kept people locked in their houses and off the streets. Needless to say, it was a lonely drive and a meager crowd at church today.

For us, we couldn't be happier. Seeing as we won't be returning to Utah for Christmas, this little skiff may be the only taste of a "White Christmas" we'll have. And call me old fashioned, but I've always had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit when it's 70-degrees outside and people are driving around with their convertible tops down like they're some kind of bigshot. Snow makes the spirit of the season come alive, and it's a joy and a privilege to build a snowman, make a snow fort, or put a snowball down your little sister's shirt. While this storm's snowfall won't last through the night, it was a baby Christmas miracle just the same.

To go along with our Winter Wonderland out here, we decided to buy a Christmas tree and decorate the crap out of it - something we didn't do last year, probably because holiday decorating seemed too luxurious and comfortable for the sweat-soaked, feverish lives we were living. This year's been much easier on the body and soul, so we drove into town and found a man selling trees he had grown on his own farm in the boonies of Carolina. He was a good ole country boy with a Southern accent as thick as a heffer. I pretended to be one too, despite the fact that I had driven up in a Honda Fit. I even brought gloves to make me look like I knew what the heck I was doing when it came to Christmas trees.

Our first North Carolina Christmas Tree

We brought the tree home, busted out the Christmas decorations, then started hanging lights and ornaments while "Elf" played in the background. We even had cookies and milk. It was on that night, during that cute little moment of tree trimming, that we finally started to feel the Spirit of Christmas.

The other major event of the week was our one-day weekend getaway to Washington, D.C. We've had plenty of these over the last year and a half, but never before to watch a Utah State sporting event. When we found out USU was going to be playing Georgetown at the Verizon Center in D.C., we couldn't help ourselves (or Celeste would say, I couldn't help myself).

The game didn't go the way we wanted, and we ended up losing by 17 points. But the game was close for the entire first half, and it was fun just to watch us play such a talented team (they were ranked 16th in the country at the time). The game also allowed us to reconnect with dozens of old friends and alumni from Utah State: Pres. Stan Albrecht, VP Ross Peterson, former VP Michael Kennedy, and my old friends David Lee, Tanner Cooley, Chris Barney, Nate Needham, Scott O'Dell, Jason Soffe, Tristan Anderson, among others. But for the game itself, we had a wonderful time. Next time we'll just have to remember to score more points.

Pregame Alumni Breakfast in downtown D.C.

If only we could have kept that lead.

In the Land of the Palm Tree, Orange Grove, and Boiled Peanut

When a southerner asks you if you want a bowl of peanuts, there's a good chance you misunderstood their drawl. A "boiled" peanut is a Southern delicacy and a staple in the Southern Food Pyramid. It also tastes like wet cardboard wrapped in a soiled diaper.

While we didn't eat any boiled peanuts this weekend, we sure had plenty of opportunities. On our whirlwind Thanksgiving tour of the southern states, we passed boiled peanut vendors, orange tree orchards, and more fireworks superstores than you could shake a stick at. For a moment, I was back in my mission, wearing a black name tag and gaining weight by the minute. You'd think North Carolina would be the same, but it's not. It's very Yankee in comparison.


Our first stop was Savannah, Georgia. Sweet Moses, what a beautiful city it is. It's a lot like Charleston: full of cobblestone streets, horse-drawn carriages, and authentic Southern homes that predate the Revolutionary War. We didn't stay long, but in our brief 2-day stint, we fell in love with that city.

City Hall, Savannah, GA

We then headed further south, into uncharted territory. Neither Celeste nor I had ever been to Florida. We had seen enough pictures, though, that we weren't surprised at the fruit stand at every mile marker, the palm trees that lined the roads and the highways, and the 85-degree weather at the end of November. We felt slightly guilty when we received news from Utah that they were facing a bona fide blizzard and sub-zero temperatures. It sounded so awful and we got so cold that we may have even turned the air conditioner off. I don't remember.

We had the BEST time in Florida, and not because of Florida itself. I mean, sure, it was nice, but it was truly wonderful to be with family for Thanksgiving - something we missed out on last year. This year we stayed with my cousin Rob and his wife Janelle. The fact that they had two 5-month old twins at the house was a huge bonus in our favor. We got to play with the boys all day long, and I don't remember changing a single diaper (although I was vomited on).

Dylan is dazed, Nickolas is ready to fire.

Thanksgiving Day was exactly what it should be: family, food, and football. I saw family from my dad's side that I hadn't seen in over a decade. My cousin Michelle, my Uncle Mike and Aunt Sherry, and my Aunt Cathy who I hadn't seen since I was seven. Crazy how we let time get away from us. The next thing you know, you're twenty years older.

The Fam

On our way back to North Carolina, we stopped in Charleston, South Carolina, where I served 16 months of my 24-month LDS mission. Charleston will always feel like home, in part because of the wonderful people who remain there. One such person, Sarah Buggs, is one of the best friends I will ever have. I taught and baptized Sarah in 2005. During that time and since then, she has been burdened with more medical problems than most people experience in a lifetime, from cancer to knee replacements. On more than one occassion, doctors have braced Sarah and her family for the bad news that death was no longer knocking, but in the kitchen. With the faith and patience of Job, Sarah has braved the storms, beat the odds, and kicked death to the curb. She is a walking miracle, and on Saturday, Celeste and I were able to visit her again and spend some time with her in her home. It was an emotional but happy meeting. Every time I see her, I say to myself that it might be the last. Every time I say that, she proves me wrong.

It was a long and wild trip, including 4 states, 5 cities, 1,500 miles, 2 twins, 2 cousins, 2 aunts and an uncle, lots of food, lots more pie, 7 football games, and about 50,000 calories a piece. We couldn't have written it better ourselves.

Beautiful downtown Charleston, SC

Sick as Dogs

If you were to walk into our front door right now, you'd see Celeste lying on the couch in her pink polka-dotted bath robe and her black stretchy pants. Surrounding her is a garbage bag, empty cups of herbal tea, discarded Dayquil packages, and an army of used tissues. It's not a pretty sight.

Celeste got decent for the photo shoot.

And while Celeste is in the thick of a sickness bubonic in nature, I have only just escaped from its coughy, achy, soar-throaty grip. We each missed a week of church, and we each missed two days of school. I could have probably used three days. I know this because on the day that I came back to school, a colleague walked in my room to tell me about an upcoming field trip. Our conversation went something like this:

"Hey Mr. Olsen. How you doin'?"

"Not great, Miller. But I'm here."

"Well, you look like sh*#. I'm just going to throw that out there."

"Thanks, Miller. Thanks."

Me, giving up on life.

Now, while the last seven days have been anything but a parade of puppies, but we're hopeful and optimistic going into this week. On Tuesday, we'll be driving 11 hours to Tampa, Florida where we'll be spending the holiday weekend with the extended Olsen family. We can hardly wait. This 70-degree weather has gotten a little too brisk.

How we feel.

Musical duels, Law School, and We Are the Champions!

We've been lazy with the blog lately, and I'm sure you've all been chewing your fingernails into bloody stubs in anticipation for more news. Rubbing alcohol should do the trick. Our lives are a robust mixture of mayhem and meetings, juvenile misfits and zealous Mormons, with just a dash of balance and a pinch of sanity. C'est la vie.


So for starters, Celeste and I had some visitors a few weeks ago. My beautiful sisters Mandy and Kristen decided to come to North Carolina to see our schools, experience our classrooms, stay in our luxurious apartment, and in general, sponge up the splendor of rural North Carolina. Oh, and the fact that they came at the same time was a complete coincidence. And the fact that they happened to arrive on the very same weekend of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear was just a surprise. And, as you can guess, they had NO idea that we only live 3 hours from D.C., where the rally was held. Well, seeing as we had no other major plans, guess where we ended up going? That's right. Waffle House. Oh wait, that was just me. I meant WASHINGTON, D.C.!!!


Good times were had, and the rally was incredible. It was basically like a two-hour episode of the Colbert Report and the Daily Show mixed with Shakespeare in the Park. There were several bits, skits, and musical guests, including the most amazing musical duel between Cat Stephens and Ozzie Osbourne (Peace Train vs. Crazy Train). It was...scrumtralescent.


Once the insanity of the sanity rally wore off, I finally had the time (and the sanity) to submit the last of my law school applications. As in, they're IN. Those accursed, painfully drawn out applications are finally in the hands of the schools to which I seek admission. Now all we have to do is endure another painfully drawn out process: waiting for their response. The schools we've applied to are as follows:

-University of North Carolina
-University of Utah
-Northeastern University (Boston)
-American University (DC)
-Howard University (DC)
-Catholic University (DC)

We're taking bets on predictions, so cast your votes now!

And finally, last week I coached what will likely be my final middle school football game. I know, I know. You're all saying, "Contract extension, salary increase, blue chip recruits". Trust me, I've heard it all before, and I just can't see myself doing it again, despite the glamorous perks that would most assuredly be mine. On the brightside, however, the HMS Rams finished the season with a 7-1 record, clinching the MAC-9 Conference Championship. Here's a link to a story ran by our local paper: http://hendersondispatch.com/view/full_story_sports/10156194/article-Rams-win-MAC-9?instance=main_article


All is well in Tar Heel Country. Until next time, farewell.

A Wedding Story

Jackson and I at Bonnie and Matt's reception

Last weekend Jackson and I were able to go to Utah in celebration of my sister Bonnie's wedding. We took off Friday afternoon and were able to stay through Tuesday! It was wonderful to be with family and enjoy all of the festivities of a wedding done right.

Not only did we get to see immediate family, but much of my extended family was able to attend and it was great to chat with grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

Enjoying a waterfall with my mom, aunt Anne, uncle Dave and aunt Beverly

Cute Lynlee on the swings

Tuesday was the main event. Bonnie and Matt are almost the cutest couple ever (second only to Jackson and I) and they were both grinning from ear to ear for the entire day. The ceremony was beautiful, and the celebration was a booming good time.

Lynlee dancing away in her pretty dress

Just what he's been waiting for...

Matt, always a jokster, couldn't help but pull this off in the midst of family and friends. He went in for the garter, and instead proudly displayed some surprising lingerie... I believe in Ireland they are also called sloggy pants (that's for you Mandy). I think it's safe to say there will never be a dull moment when Bonnie and Matt are around. I am so glad that he's officially part of the family.

Ariel, Sarah, Crystal and I before the reception

We danced the night away before rushing to the airport that night. My sisters and brother are amazing, it was sooo much fun to have the whole family together and have such a wonderful cause for celebration.

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Sarah, Lynlee and I dancing with the beautiful bride

Aggies, Williamsburg, and a Very Special Guest Speaker

Two weeks ago, my parents decided to pay Celeste and I a visit. My dad had depositions to do in Williamsburg, VA, and seeing as that's only a 2-hour drive from where we live in NC, my mom decided to join him and make it a family affair.

The party really got started on the evening of Friday, October 1st. Celeste and I had arrived a few hours before my parents in Williamsburg (they had flown into D.C. and were on their way), and had staked out a nice booth at the local Chili's Restaurant from which we could watch the USU-BYU football game. When my dad asked us to find a good place to eat, he gave us two requirements: good food, and a clear view of the game. Because of the horrendous D.C. traffic, their drive to Williamsburg took longer than expected, costing my dad the entire first half of the football game, which, as far as football goes, was as beautiful as Monet and as harmonious as Mozart. The Aggies were up 24-3 at halftime. When my parents finally pulled into the Chili's parking lot, I ran out to greet them, jumping and shouting. My mom remembers me saying something like, "I don't know if I'm excited to see you or just excited cause the Aggies are winning!" Either way, I was excited.


The second half was almost as good as the first, like having vanilla ice cream after just eating Cookies 'n Cream. It didn't measure up to the 1st act, but it was still sweetly delicous. My poor mother and wife tried to have a conversation with my father and I, but the two brutes at the table were so engaged with the game (and the fact that we were WINNING the game), that they couldn't get through a sentence without us grunting in disappointment or cheering wildly with approval. For once in a very long time, the Aggies produced more cheers out of us than grunts.


All the while, of course, we were in Williamsburg, Virginia, and the local crowd seemed a bit perplexed at the showing of jubilation that came from the strangers in the booth. In fact, everyone else in the restaurant was probably disappointed that there wasn't another game on, but for the four of us (or at least two of us) it was bliss. We cheered and hooted and hollered and didn't give a dang about what people thought. When the final seconds ticked off the gameclock, the Aggies had secured its first victory against our most despised of rivals in 17 years.


With the tone appropriately set for the rest of the week, the four of us enjoyed each others company while mini-golfing, playing tennis, watching movies, and touring Colonial Williamsburg, all of which would have felt a bit vacuous had it not been for the Aggies' win. On Sunday, we all traveled down to Oxford, NC, and my parents stayed the night at our cozy two-bedroom apartment.

Now for the guest speaker part:

Knowing that my dad would be in town, and with a few weeks of prep time, I was determined to have him come into my classroom and speak to my students. About what, I didn't care. I teach social studies, history, government, and civics, all of which I have considered my father to be an expert on since I was a child. We talked it over in the weeks prior and decided that the students would be most interested in his experience with and knowledge of the American Indians, particularly the Navajo. I tied this into my unit, arranged a lesson plan, and got the go ahead from my superiors.

That next morning, I was joined by both of my parents at school. I told my students that there would be a guest speaker that day, but I didn't tell them who. My parents sat at the back of the room in student desks, and as my students came into class, they looked at them suspicously. To my great relief, they were relatively well-behaved that day, making it appear to my parents that I was a good teacher, which we all know is a load of bull-jive. As I began to introduce the speaker, I said something to the effect of:

"We have a very special guest speaker in our class today, who has traveled over 2,000 miles to be in our classroom today. His name is Herm Olsen. Now, you might be thinking to yourselves, 'Hey, he's got the same name as Mr. Olsen!' And you might also be thinking to yourselves, 'Hey, he kind of looks like Mr. Olsen!' And you might be thinking to yourselves, 'That must be Mr. Olsen's dad!' Well, if that's what you're thinking, then you're dead right. The man in the back of the room is my father, and the lovely woman sitting next to him is my mother."

At this, every head spun around and every body turned to look at the guests in the room, this time with new eyes. My parents smiled and waved, and the kids turned back to me with smiles that dwarfed every other feature of their face. One of my favorite students, Jasmeika, then asked "Is that yo' fo' real daddy?" I responded, "Yes, Jasmeika. That is my fo' real daddy."

Then my dad - I called him the ORIGINAL Mr. Olsen - gave his presentation, telling my students about life on the reservation, the Navajo way of life, and of course, his infamous scorpion story. My students were generally fascinated, well-behaved, and on point with their questions. Even my mother chimed in after a while, telling my students what life was like for her when she lived on the reservation. My dad then passed around authentic Navajo artifacts (arrowheads, sandpaintings, and the like). As time ran out, he gave his closing remarks, and the students applauded his heroic presentation. It was awesome.


It was even more awesome for my homebase class. Remember, they're the ones that I nicknamed the "USU Aggies". If that doesn't sound familiar, look at the mid-September post that explains it all. Anyway, my dad, being the slick charitable type, arranged with the folks down at Locker 47 in downtown Logan to get Aggie t-shirts for all of my homebase. Just before my homebase transitioned to their next class, my dad passed out the shirts to a group of wide-eyed, smile-stuck teenagers, who I now call "Aggies-in-Training." They were touched at the kind gesture, and the following Friday, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY HOMEBASE STUDENTS WORE THEIR AGGIE SHIRTS TO SCHOOL!!! It was amazing. It was awesome. It was...so cool that I can hardly put it into words.

It's been a couple of weeks since this all went down, and I've had ample time to pause and reflect on how special that experience was for me. Thanks, mom and dad. Thanks for the visit. Thanks for your support. Thanks for being brave enough to come Henderson and meet our kids. Thanks for the t-shirts. Thanks for your love.