I Found My Friend Again.

Let me tell you about my friend Winnie.

Winnie is my sister-in-law, Charming's sister. I have known her, of course, very nearly as long as I have known Charming. Winnie was 13 when I met her. We both had families of little stairsteps, and hers lined up between mine. We raised our children together for a number of years, until I moved a hundred miles away. For fun, we used to get together once a week for dessert and about four games of Scrabble. We were as close as any best-friends could be.

Winnie went through some hard, hard times. Her husband began to show signs of mental illness. Some of her sons got into trouble. Then her husband died, almost five years ago, and her family fell apart. Winnie trying to cope, her children so, so angry. Relationships deteriorated.

Every time I saw Winnie, it seemed she was further and further away. We couldn't seem to talk anymore. We even tried Scrabble, because when you're playing Scrabble, it's easier to be a little more vulnerable. We tried to find our way back, but nothing was working. I'm sure she felt the same about me. We prayed, of course, but at family gatherings we were polite and civil, and that's all we could do. I began to mourn the loss of this wonderful friendship, not seeing how it could ever be repaired. But our Lord is in the business of Redeeming Things.

Winnie's children are much more healthy, emotionally and mentally, and the last year has seen great strides in Getting Their Lives Together. Much of the credit is due to the fact that some of them have rededicated their lives to the Lord. Each report I received was more and more hopeful.

Fast forward to yesterday and today. I spent a good deal of time with Winnie, and we talked. and Talked. and TALKED. And the beautiful thing was, it was the Real Winnie I was talking to, and the Real Barbie she was talking to. God was there, and He was smiling. I have found my Friend again. Thank You, Father.

We were too busy to play Scrabble, though.

(But that's okay: we have two games going on Facebook!)

An Encouraging Word

Oh, my.

If you want an encouraging word regarding your homeschooling today, go see Leila at Like Mother, Like Daughter. She has condensed into two words what is necessary to be successful at this Homeschooling Adventure.

And those two little words have nothing to do with Curriculum. Or How Much Education You Have as the Teacher. Or Learning Styles.

The two little words are Order and Wonder. Now, go read it--I'll wait for you.

I kinda fall down on the Wonder part. As a person who still embraces her Wonder, as far as learning cool stuff is concerned, I usually want to share all that cool stuff with my kids. When they would probably like to find their own cool stuff to learn. I could do much, much better at stepping back and letting them take the lead.

And I REALLY fall short on the Order scale. Leila says, "Are you peaceful with your own duties?" Wow. She really knows how to phrase a question. As a "messie," (a person who is extremely challenged by the everyday chores others see as "no big deal") the physical part of homekeeping is, by far, my biggest struggle. Always has been. Maybe always will be.

Of COURSE I know that living in chaos is, well, chaotic. And that living in order gives an atmosphere of now-we-have-room-to-do-all-that-cool-stuff. I love Flylady, but don't always "do" Flylady. Still strugglin' there.

I am going to be chewing on this Order and Wonder thing for awhile. 'Course, since my youngest two are 15 and 14, it's none too soon. But, since four of my grandbabies live four blocks away, and the other two are within a five-minute drive, there's loads of Wonder yet ahead.

And loads of Order, too--I'm hopin'!

I'm Out of the Office Today...

You can find me over at Fresh Starts today!

You need to bookmark this site. Every Monday, Jen has a devotional for Moms that will enrich your week. It is always good, good stuff.

Working. Thinking. Waiting. Praying.

Working. and Thinking.

This is my "Cinnamon and Toast" quilt, made of post-Civil War reproduction fabrics. I've been working on this one for two or three years. I hand-stitched the squares, and machine-stitched the rows of squares together. Hand-stitching works well when you are Waiting.
Waiting at the dentist's or at ballet. While fellowshipping before Ladies' Bible Study on Wednesdays. I'm making a hand-stitched quilt as a legacy for each of my daughters and daughters-in-law. This one will be Lily's, but not yet. Alvin Fernald is looking forward to its being a "couch quilt."

I'm more than halfway done with the quilting, trying to do a square or two everyday. But if I don't get to it, it's okay. I've already spent two or three years waiting!

Others of us are waiting, as well. There is talk of getting rid of one of the managers where Charming works. How easy it is to "forget" that the Lord is our provider, *not* the employer. How easy it is to get used to that regular paycheck.

So many in the same boat. Unemployed or underemployed. We live in an area with higher unemployment than other places, due to the fact that factories here supply auto parts to manufacturers. One county in the area has 17% unemployment. Most of the people there work in RV plants.

A little glimpse of how the finished quilt will look:

Thinking. And trusting in the Only One worthy of my trust. And Hoping. Is it okay to hope we don't have to go through unemployment?

Like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, I want to say to God, "would it spoil some Vast, Eternal Plan," if You don't let this economic situation touch us?

Oh, well. I've lived long enough to know that this wouldn't even be CLOSE to the end of life on this planet. I have nothing to complain about. When we were very young-married, Charming was out of work for six months, but we never went without a meal. We had pb&j for three meals a day for a week (and the last two days, we just had the "j"), but we have Never Been Hungry.

Psalm 37:25 "I have never seen the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging for bread."

I found out yesterday that a homeschooling friend's home burned to the ground. So I'm done complaining. And hopefully, done worrying. God is good. All the time. If I pray "Thy will be done," I have to know that His will is "to conform me to the image of His Son." And whatever that takes is not too high a price.

Do You Really Think It's Fair...

...that Blackeyed Susan's very first layer cake (and a three-layer, at that!) came out wonderfully perfectly? Every layer raised to the same height, and perfectly flat into the bargain:
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I wanted to share a photo of Don Quixote's birthday quilt:

Don's favorite color is Black, so the color choice was easy. I had made a black-and-white quilt for a gift last year, and so I added just a very few extra fabrics, and I was "good to go."

The pattern is called Chinese Coins. You may not know that Don Very Nearly Completed a novel during his college years. In this science fiction/political thriller, a Chicago native becomes Premier of China, under the name of Omicron. So I named the quilt Omicron's Coin of the Realm.

Now, for a few details! Don asked for a "little color" in his quilt. I decided to place these few pieces in a Fibonacci sequence, one of our family inside jokes. So, there are colored patches in places 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21, etc. in the rows of "coins."

I chose a Chinese red for one of the colored fabrics. I also have a fabric with chambered nautiluses (nautili?), one of the places in nature where the Fibonacci sequence occurs. I also used a fabric with multicolored puzzle pieces, the symbol of autism. (You may know that Don has Asperger's Syndrome.)

In just one of the squares, I used this cute "Nerds Rock" fabric. The little boy on the fabric looks remarkably like Don, when he was ten years old:

I found this great "numbers" fabric, which I used in four of the squares. If you have read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe, you will recognize "42" as the answer to "Life, the Universe, and Everything":

I quilted the quilt in black thread (naturally!) with "X's" in the black-and-white areas, and circles in the yellow bars. The Greek letter Omicron is a circle; the circles could represent "coins"; and, they *could* be kisses-and-hugs, with the x's and o's. It's all about the love for my darlin' Don Quixote, who turns 32 on the 26th.

(by the way, I knew that Don liked the color orange, and I considered it for the alternating bars. However, it looked Jack-o-lantern--ish, so I chose yellow. Which ended up looking bumble-bee--ish :) . I didn't know that Don dislikes yellow. He 'llowed as how he'll attempt to live with it! Don has already had offers to take the quilt off his hands by my two Yellow-Lovers, Charming and Alvin Fernald....

My family is just so darn Helpful, aren't they?

Literature Buffet

This has been a pretty strange week, here in our homeschool.

I had planned to begin Shakespeare's Henry V with the children this week. (thank you, Violet, masters-in-English wizard, for suggesting something "a little different!"), but was waiting for the audio version to come in to my local library branch. I had already secured three copies of the book, *and* the BBC dvd for a treat when we finish. But, as of Monday, the cds had not arrived.

I printed off some historical data from wikipedia. So, Monday was spent talking about the Hundred Years' War, and a "snapshot" of the Battle of Agincourt.

Tuesday came. I didn't really have a plan B, so I picked up an old, old book of literature readings and turned at random to a short bio of Tennyson, followed by The Lady of Shallot. Alvin Fernald thought it was funny to hear the entire poem, of which he heard a very short portion in the Anne of Green Gables movie.

I checked my computer Tuesday afternoon, and my stuff was finally in at the library, so I picked it up. Besides the Henry V cds, I had ordered Animal Farm. I realized just last week that, although my first six children and I watched the fall of the Berlin Wall together (didn't you just love Reagan's speech: "Mr. Gorbachev, Tear Down This Wall!"), Blackeyed Susan and Alvin weren't even born yet. Besides, I'm thinkin' that Animal Farm would be a good place to start a conversation about the way our own government might be heading....

Wednesday. We had gotten to bed frightfully late Tuesday night, so I found two teens sitting in opposite corners of our sectional couch, under blankets with their eyes closed, as I came in to begin our day. I didn't want to fight them for Shakespeare, so I began to read Animal Farm aloud. I had forgotten how engaging the writing style was. By the end of Chapter 2, I had the kids asking for more...

So we are dining at the Literature Buffet this week. Not my usual way of doing things, but, as Charming tells this Extremely Linear Thinker and In-the-Box girl, "sometimes you need to shake it up a bit."

And Susan and Alvin reminded me of the wrestling game they used to play with their older brother Don Quixote when he came home from college. It was called "Berlin Wall," and would begin with Don on hands and knees shouting, "it's Nineteen Eighty-Nine!" and the little ones would come a'runnin to "knock it down." Sigh. Where did those little 2- and 4-year olds go?

Oh, yes. They're studying Shakespeare and Tennyson and Orwell. It's a beautiful thing.

Pajama-rama Update

I found some more flannel remnants from past Christmas pajama projects. After I cut them up, my new total is:

4998 squares.

I need to quick find another remnant of flannel, enough to make 2 squares!

Edge-of-Your-Seat Excitement!

These books were on our family bookshelf at home, long before I was born:
They were from my father's childhood. My father was born in 1922, and in the times in which he grew up, there was only One Thing: airplanes. Notice his drawing of "Lindbergh's Plane." The newspaper article, tho' not of interest to you, contains several names that have become part of the history of our town:

On the second page in, we find a...bread sticker? Also, in the corner, we find a Christmas seal with the inscription "Season's Greetings 1934." Don't your kids put stickers all over everything they own? (I m'self covered all the white space on my life-size David Cassidy poster with banana stickers. Charming covered the drawers of his boyhood dresser with same.):

Naturally, more newspaper photos of airplane-related news covers the back pages:

Inside the front cover of Uncle Tom Andy Bill, an inscription, "To Robert on his tenth birthday, from Uncle Bob." This would be 1932. The books are from the first decade of the 1900's, so the books may have been Uncle Bob's first. Both books have evidence of hard usage. I love that.

I always knew those two books were on the bookshelf at home, but never thought to pick them up and read them. My mother gave me the books about twenty years ago, so they sat on *my* bookshelf!

I picked them up recently. They are both set in Indiana in the 1820's, when it was a "baby state." I read Uncle Tom Andy Bill first. It may be the most exciting book I have ever read! I was on the edge of my seat every chapter. First the boys are chased by bears, then almost lost in a cave, robbed and nearly murdered by highwaymen, found Indian treasure. I kept asking myself, "are they going to make it?" followed by a little embarrassment, because the stories are narrated by one of the boys as an old man, so we can assume they survived every adventure. For us girls, there is also a little romance included.

The Bears of Blue River is a collection of bear stories. These are all "legendary" bears: one that glows with fire, one that "cannot be killed," etc. Also extremely exciting. The author points out that it was very necessary to hunt these animals, as their numbers were very high. He is very respectful of nature in general, and the boy characters are good role models. I recommend both of these books highly, for boys or girls of middle elementary age. (or girls who are over 50, as I am!)

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I just wanted to give you a peek of my project which is "almost finished." It is a gift, so I can't do a proper unveiling for a couple of weeks yet. I have been a busy little worker bee here in the late of winter....

p.s. You can probably get the Charles Major books in your library. I do have an extra copy of Uncle Tom Andy Bill, so if you would like to have one for your own, let me know!

Bitty-bits

You know how you sometimes do things wrong, but keep doing them, expecting somehow for things to change? (Charming calls this his Definition of Stupidity.) I had been reading the daily entry from my One-Year Bible after lunch. Now, not that that is wrong or anything, but the beginning of my day had Not Been Going Well for awhile. For instance, our budget is extremely tight right now, and I found myself worrying about things. A lot. Then trying to spout Bible verses about God's provision. And still worrying.

This week, I decided to put Bible reading right at the beginning of the day. (as I used to do for years'n'years'years...) The result was immediate. The very first day, I found myself singing worship song in the shower. (now, you may think I said "worship songS," but no, I didn't. I am famous for my 90-second showers.) And all week, I have *noticed* a lack of worry about money/whether the cars will break down/whether....

Simply put, I have put the Lord back where He belongs. I don't mean at the beginning of the day, necessarily (I do know people who do devotions at other times), but putting Him back in the place of Being Fully Capable of Taking Care of Me.

And, as so often happens, God lets me know that He noticed. I opened the electric bill, and the balance was $0.00 for this month. A forgotten deposit was applied to the balance. Then there is the water bill. We had an old-style 6-gallon toilet which a) would "run" from time to time, using water for who-knows-how-long; I had a fear of it running while we were away for the weekend or something, and b) it would fill twice when flushed: swirly water going down, then filling up to the top of the bowl and going down Again, and then filling for the final time. We always knew we should replace the innards, but who actually messes with the toilet till it breaks?

One night it was running, and when Blackeyed Susan checked it, she broke the floaty-ball thing. When Charming went to the hardware store, he brought home a newfangled (to me) set-up with NO FLOATY-BALL. He put it in, and we set the little screw to have a little lower level in the bowl. Well, we just got the water bill, and last month's bill was $85.50. This month? (drumroll, please) $45.25. I still don't believe it: I'm waiting till next month to see if the water company made a mistake.

So, with this little windfall of non-money owed, I called the specialty-shoe store to see if they had a pair of Charming's shoes in stock. He wears an incredible EEEEEE width, and so he can't buy off-the-rack. I've tried buying at Zappo's, but usually they are out-of-stock-we'll-email-you-when-we-have-them-six-months-goes-by-then-we-don't-have-the-money. The New Balances you buy for 50-60 dollars are $120.00 plus tax in Charming's size at our local Weird-Size Footwear. (not to disparage them--they do a great service for people with bad feet.) I could get the shoes the next day (today), but just on the off-chance, I checked Zappos. Only 2 pair left!! it said when I typed in the size. How fast did I type Put it in My Cart at $85.95? And of course you know that Zappos has no shipping charges?

So now I have enough money to buy a pair for *me!* Fortunately, I can buy your $69.95-on-sale-for-$39.95 at Kohl's.

I called this post Bitty-bits, because I wanted to post a couple of photos of what I'm working on and some other vintage-y things, but my camera won't work (and, yes, I flipped the batteries to see if they were in wrong). So you're stuck for now...

God is good. All the time. And I always knew it, but the Gloom-and-Doom guys are really loud, and God is really soft-spoken. So, if I listen to Him at the beginning of the day, I can't hear the other guys so well. It just makes sense, doesn't it?

Happy 200th, Abe!

Today is the 200th anniversary of the birth of Abraham Lincoln. One hundred years ago (1909), they changed the penny from the Indian Head version to that with Lincoln's image. I understand they are changing the penny this year, as well.

My own contribution to the celebration will be Lincoln's Favorite Cake:

1 c. butter............................ 2 tsp. baking powder
2 c. sugar...............................1 tsp. vanilla
1 c. milk.................................1 c. blanched almonds, chopped
3 c. cake or pastry flour......1/4 tsp. salt
................................................6 egg whites

Cream butter and sugar lightly.
Sift flour and baking powder together; and add alternately with milk to the first creamed mixture.
Add well-floured nuts, then vanilla.
Fold in stiffly beaten whites of eggs, to which salt has been added.
Bake in 4 layers (8 or 9" pans) in moderate 350 degree oven.
(Ice with boiled icing, to which 1/2 cup chopped, candied pineapple and cherries have been added.)

I just realized that no times were given for the oven. Oh, well, I think I can figure it out!

Thoughts: But Maybe It's None of My Business Anyway

Have you read this article?

(knowing that this article will eventually "disappear" off the link because it is a newspaper article, I will give you the nutshell version):

A high-schooler with poor grades was made to wear a sandwich-board with his grades posted and had to stand on a busy intersection in his town for several hours. His parents, a pastor and his wife, were tired of their son making no effort, and not turning in homework even when they had supervised its completion. The article also mentioned that the parents each had "several academic degrees."

The "comments" listed below the article (for of course, we all can put in our two-cents' worth on everything on the internet, right?) ranged from "good for you, parents! if only everyone would do that" to "the ultimate in child abuse: humiliation--this is where C*lumbine killers come from." Let me put in my own $0.02, though I'm not sure it's even valid, you know?

We lived with similar frustration for sixteen years with our son Don Quixote. In first and second grades, he got straight A's, even if he didn't do his "seatwork," because, as his teachers said, "he get's 100% on every test, and that shows he knows the work." In third grade, the teachers began to clamp down: "Even if he knows it in his head, he still needs to learn to Do. The. Work. like everybody else." (homeschooling was in its infancy at that time, and I didn't know about it. Oh, the difference it would have made!) He always seemed to *not* be paying attention, but could give anything back to the teacher verbatim if asked.

Fast forward to high school. Though he could have been valedictorian easily, Don ended up somewhere near the bottom of the top 10%. He didn't care too much, even though I was frustrated at achievements missed. (one time, when he was about ten years old, my father congratulated him on a good report card, and Don said to him, "well, Grandpa, I could have done a lot better if I'd only APPLIED MYSELF." Guess he was listening at that parent-teacher conference!)

College was the most frustrating of all. We had talks with the academic dean and the head of the History Department (his major). Don failed several classes, by, you guessed it, not turning in any work. I don't know if all colleges work this way, but F's didn't add a "zero" to your average, they just didn't count them at all (in other words, they didn't work against you, you just "wasted" a credit). Don, brilliant in the extreme, had figured out just how many classes he could "blow" and still have credits enough to get his B.A. We were so angry that last semester, that we "strongly suggested" that he not walk in the Graduation ceremonies, as he had been a (disgrace? not the word I'm looking for. If I think of it, I'll edit this post) to his co-history majors, who had done all of the work.

I understand the frustration of the parents of that high-schooler. I scolded and cajoled and watched over many papers and assignments for Don, that maybe didn't get turned in anyway. At college, I had no way of knowing at all, a hundred miles away.

Later, as you may know, Don was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. This explained so many, many things. It wouldn't have made one bit of difference if we had made Don wear a sandwich board and stand on the corner by the mall. The biggest frustration with "aspies" is that, because they are wired differently, us "NT's" (neurologically typical people) can Never Understand How They Think. So, although the boy in the article maybe is "normal," and just doesn't try hard enough, maybe it's Something Else.

One more thought (because this is 'way longer than I thought it would be). WWJD? I don't see anywhere in Scripture where Jesus humiliated anyone (well, except for maybe the Pharisees) who was struggling. And I have to look at how He deals with me: Even when I should be called out for public ridicule for the things I do, He never, ever treats me with anything but love, dripping down like I was doused with honey. Why do we always forget that the way God treats us is the way we Should be treating our children?

So I said a prayer for the boy in the story. And two for the parents. Lord, show them the situation for what it is, and let Your love rule. If it was the right thing to do to help the boy "shape up," so be it. But if it was out of frustration, let this be an opportunity for learning on both sides. In any case, Lord, glorify Yourself.

A Normal Day

Today I'm celebrating a Normal Day with the Queen:

my Normal Day cake

Now, typical of a day where I just wanted to "make a cake," Something. Went. Wrong.

Don't know if you can see this sinkhole of a cake. It even "burped" all over the oven. I'm thinking maybe I used the wrong measuring spoon for the baking soda and baking powder?

I'm praising the Lord today for my end-of-a-cold, my out-o'-sight heating bill, and my kids' winter laziness. Because it is NORMAL.

Go on over and rejoice with the Queen, and thank the Lord your days are normal.

A Dreadful Anniversary

This is the thirty-sixth anniversary of the infamous Roe v. Wade decision. I was a senior in a Catholic high school when this decision came down. We had been so sure that God would never allow such a heinous decision. I think it was my first taste of "legislating from the bench," the now-common practice of *creating* laws through judicial decisions.

I also think it's strange that Justice Blackmun (who wrote the decision) used the Fourteenth Amendment's due process clause, in forming his opinion. This is the same amendment that Congress used to legislatively overturn the Dred Scott decision [saying that blacks, American Indians, and other "foreigners" were not citizens (read: "humans") and therefore not eligible for rights under the law.]

As the years went by, we wrote letters, marched, prayed. I was a counselor in a crisis pregnancy center for a few years. (There were no such places when I got pregnant at nineteen. I went to the Planned Parenthood place for a free pregnancy test. The woman asked my first name, and then asked, "are you planning to terminate this pregnancy?" I was shocked. I answered, "I don't even know yet if I'm pregnant!" She asked again, "if you are pregnant, are you planning to terminate?" GOD BLESS THE CRISIS PREGNANCY CENTERS. ) And, most of us were very sure we would not still be fighting this fight in 2009.

Now we have a president who, by all appearances, is not friendly to pre-born life. He has already pledged to fight for legislation to strengthen abortion "rights." He will, in all likelihood, be appointing one or more Supreme Court justices, as well as other federal judges. Things don't look very positive, looking from an earthly perspective.

So, we still pray. And, we fight for each baby, one mother at a time. We tear down the brick wall she thinks gives her no choice. We line those bricks up in a line--anybody can step over one brick at a time. We pray for God to send a revival--if God changes hearts, the need for even discussing this issue will be greatly diminished.

Lord, have mercy on us for this abomination. Forgive me for considering, even for a few hours, this awful thing. Thank you that you let my boyfriend (Charming) and me see it for what it was, and bring that baby to term (that's Violet!) Let the women who have made this agonizing decision find forgiveness and healing. Lord, heal our nation.

Fresh Start for Monday

Go check out my post today at Monday Mommies.

And check Monday Mommies (linked on my sidebar) every Monday for a new devotional to help you through your week!

Pajama-Rama Update

Wow. It's only been six days since I blogged about my new project. I have dug out a total of five large rubbermaid tubs, and reduced all of the scraps of flannel pj pants I have made over the last dozen years (or more!) to 4 1/2-inch squares.

Fortunately, the last two tubs contained mostly uncut flannel pieces, that I can use in the future for grandkid pjs. And--there are still flannel scraps out there *somewhere* that I am sure I will have to deal with later.

Drum roll please.

My new total of 4 1/2-inch squares is: 4586. Since it takes 396 squares to make a 72x88-inch quilt, I have enough for more than eleven quilts.

More than enough, I think, is Quite Enough.

The great news is that I get to put them away for awhile. But, when I'm ready later this year, the pieces are already cut! Lily has agreed to help me put them in some kind of pretty order for the quilts. The favorite quilt I've ever made for any of my children is Johnny Tremain's flannel quilt, now almost threadbare. So, I think this will be a popular project!

Pajama-Rama

I've been making my family flannel pj pants for Christmas for years.

YEARS.

Over the last dozen or so years, I have been collecting the leftovers in three large rubbermaid bins:
That one was much fuller to begin with. I saved all of these, planning to make some quilts. Since my "stash" wasn't getting any smaller, I decided after Christmas just to cut all of the scraps into 4.5 inch squares. Here is a photo of what I've done this past week:

How many do you think? 1701. That is, one Thousand, seven Hundred, one. And I still have to finish the bin you saw above, and another bin stuffed to the rafters. I was beginning to think there would be no end, except I fer sure don't want this hanging around another year, waiting to be done, right? So I'll keep on, keepin' on. I think I'll put a little blurb on the sidebar with my progress.

By the way, a 72x88-inch quilt will take 396 squares. That means I already have more than enough for four quilts already.

I think I should have done this a few years ago, dude.

Update: I found two MORE rubbermaid tubs filled with flannel scraps. I have no idea how long it will take me now, to work my way through them!

I'll Be in the *Zone* Today...

...the Twilight Zone.

Today begins the annual New Year's Twilight Zone marathon on the Sci-fi channel, and buddy, We'll Be There.

When I was growing up, my mother deemed TZ as "too scary" for us young'uns. But my sister was older, and it was one of her favorite shows. And sometimes she let me watch it on the Upstairs T.V.

Now, this was a very special tv. My father was one of the original techno-geeks, and loved to get new gear early in the game. He purchased this tv on the very first day they were for sale in our town--my sister's fifth birthday, November 21, 1953. The story goes that all he could get on it was one station, with the Today Show, the Evening News, and a few prime-time things. Through the years I wondered if he had really bought it on the very first day, until a few years ago, when an announcement came on: "WKJG-TV 33, celebrating fifty years of broadcasting--November 21, 1953-November 21, 2003." So, there you have it.

Daddy bought a color television when there were very few programs telecast in color. I still remember the blurbs: "A CBS production, presented in Living COLOR." And, of course, you all know the NBC Peacock--his feathers used to pop out one by one, color by color. Our new tv was a beautiful maple console. Mother would put something on a doily on top. Daddy climbed on the roof to put the best antenna he could find.

Well, the old black-and-white found its way upstairs to the room I shared with my sister. And, come Twilight Zone/The Outer Limits/Saturday Night Creature Feature time, she'd let me watch with her. Even though she wasn't supposed to. Older sisters *are* good for some things!

I still remember the night we Got Caught. We were watching a movie called "The Killer Shrews" (this movie was actually on just last week on TCM, but I declined to watch it--it has barely a one-star rating...) and we heard Mother coming up the stairs. Jan told me to play like I was asleep. I thought it was going pretty well until Mom discovered I was still wearing my glasses.

Oops. Janet got the Cord Taken Away. This is the equivalent of taking your teenager's cellphone away. Mother put the TV cord up on the refrigerator for a week.

And Janet wouldn't let me watch the Twilight Zone with her anymore.

I've carried the scars ever since. So, today, the TV will be running the TZ marathon, at least until Alvin Fernald sneaks some football game or another in.

By the way, I still have a part of that television. The plate glass front of the screen sits on my dresser, keeping photos safe. But, alas, the cord is gone forever. But that's okay. I have a cellphone, and nobody can ground me from it!

I *Think* We Might Be Back to Normal...

...but I'm by no means sure.

The ice storm was a tad more serious than first described. First reports were that 2000 homes were without power--eventually 120,000 customers were in the dark. That, folks, is more than half of the people in our city. Many of those were "out" into the fifth and sixth day. This combined with windchills one day of thirty below zero. Shelters were opened north and south in the city. Many retailers were closed on the weekend before Christmas. Our church, which survived the first onslaught, succumbed on Sunday morning. It is on the same grid as a cluster of hotels, filled with refugees from their own homes--a double whammy. Some people, returning to their homes days later, found the effects of frozen water pipes. Happy Christmas Eve!

Yet, we all know how blessed we are. Though we did not lose power (and none of our in-town children did, either), we had resources throughout the city, had we done so. Neighbors and friends opening their homes. A really good chance to Slow Things Down.

We had a wonderful Christmas Eve service at church, and a quiet morning at home. Johnny Tremain and Lily came over Christmas mid-morning, and Don Quixote, as is his custom, made cheesy omelets for all. Violet went home at noon, which was a good thing, as another freezing rain/ice episode followed. This slowed things down slightly, for the after-Christmas sales, but we were treated yesterday (Saturday) to sixty-three degrees! So now, all the ice is gone, and only the memory of our glassy-iced world to remember it by.

Today (Sunday) we had the Christmas choir/children's choir/dance thing scheduled for last Sunday. It was really quite nice, focusing on Christmas "after the fact," with nothing else to fight for our attention.

Tomorrow? Gathering up a couple of medical receipts to finish out our insurance account-thingy (where they take money out pre-tax for medical expenses) before the 31st. Planning menus (and throwing the vestiges of multiple parties that are "growing" in the frig away). Laundry. Maybe the library.

Oh, how I love Normal. When I can find it!

Ice Storm

My God is Awesome.

We are at the end of an ice storm, here where I live. The gorgeousness of iced trees and fences belies their danger: I see large branches over two of my near-neighbors' sidewalks, broken by their very heaviness. The news (which I can hear thanks to electricity) says that 2000 homes in our city are without power. I am safe and snug here in my home, coffee in hand, at least for the moment.

The temperature is rising, so it is only raining now. I went outside to see if I should salt the sidewalks, but it's raining too hard. I was meditating on the awesome-ness of the weather, when I saw a streak of lightning, followed, of course, by the rumble of thunder. A thunderstorm in the midst of an ice storm. In December!

The weatherman predicts, as is often the case on a day like today, Wind later on. The blessed wind that will dry much of the watery sidewalks, before below-freezing temperatures again tonight. All the schools are closed today, a day early for the Christmas break.

Just meditating on the awesome-ness of a God who loves us more than we could ever know. So He sent a little weather to encourage us to slow down, "look up," and say Hello.

Spoiler Alert: Forget-me-not and Lily, Turn Away NOW.

My grandmother used to make a thing called a puzzle ball. I found a pattern for it here. I never understood the "puzzle" part of the puzzle ball, until I started to put one together. Here you have twelve strawberry-shaped pieces, all alike:
Next, you have to put them together so they end up in a spherical shape. I have never put pieces together with safety pins before:

But, by golly, that means you have solved the *puzzle* part. When you sew the points together, you get this cute thing:

And won't they be just the thing for Christmas for eight- and nine-month old grandbabies?

MacGuyver Acting All MacGuyver-y

My son MacGuyver and his girlfriend Tiny Dancer came in from out-of-town yesterday, to do a little decorating. Now, I call him MacGuyver here on this blog, because he can fix anything with a paper clip and a rubber band.

Besides all of the fun Christmas stuff going on, he did something for me that I so, so appreciate: he fixed up the tv in the basement so that Alvin Fernald could put ALL of his video game stuff down there.

This was no small operation: not only is the basement tv analog (rendering it useless as of February 9, 2009, I'm sure all of you know), but it is also *not* what we used to call "cable ready," and, in fact, doesn't even use a remote. MacGuyver and Alvin went to Radio Shack to get this and that, and fixed it up, but Alvin has to *click* the dial to station number 3 to begin play.

Ah, the bliss of not tripping over control cords and the "guitar" from Guitar Hero. Not having to listen to the droning music on the "setup" modes.

Later we went to Cracker Barrel for dinner--yum. [and then shopped in the store and spent too much money...], then to Wal-mart for Christmas lights--somehow they disappeared since last year. I couldn't find even one strand in all of our Christmas boxes.

Later last night, we cut out fleece stockings for Mac and Tiny Dancer, and I whipped them up on the machine. I showed T.D. how trim them with a buttonhole stitch, which she will finish at home. It was a rich, full day.

Today: Put lights on the tree so we can decorate it! Hop on over to a brand-new Wal-mart where, rumor has it, they will have gasoline for 99 cents all day (I'll let you know on that one...though Joe Hardy bought gas there on Tuesday for $1.23...). Begin gathering patterns for handmade toys and dolly clothes for the grands. Mail a package for my sister.

Guess it's back to normal 'round here!

Update: Gasoline at the new Wal-mart was $1.39. However, gas went up all over town to $1.79 (from an average of $1.45 or so) OVERNIGHT. So I guess driving across town to save FORTY CENTS A GALLON was worth the trip!

Emergency Cleanup: Aisle 5

I have been putting off cleaning the "peanut butter" cupboard since summer. (do y'all call it the peanut butter cupboard? Everybody I know does...) On the top shelf is the baking stuff such as food coloring, sprinkles, birthday candles, and coconut. (okay, so I found three ancient half-bags of coconut up there--even when I clean this cupboard, sometimes it's only the first and second shelf....) On the middle shelf we find tea, dried beans, and jello and puddings. Bottom shelf: peanut butter (natch), sugar bowl, odd keys, and SPICES.

Spices crowding a two-tier twirly lazy susan thing. The ones that fall off and fall behind, keep it from twirling. Behind the peanut butter and sugar bowl, cans and jars that won't fit on the twirly thing, as well as baggies of "bulk" spices that I've accumulated.

Well, the situation had been critical since summer. Odd things would fly out at me when I opened the cupboard: I just shoved them back in and went on my merry way. Until two days ago...

...Avalanche. That's all I'm gonna tell ya'.

Here is a photo of what burped up outta there:

I stopped counting at 70 cans, jars, and baggies. SEVENTY.

Included in this array were four cans and three baggies of nutmeg. Hoarding for the next Y2K, I guess. Three cans of cream of tartar. Now, I make homemade play-doh like the rest of y'all, but Come On. But: the spices I use most, I had only the jar I knew about, half-full. Except for the cinnamon--I had to BORROW cinnamon last week from a neighbor. I did find two, Full, jars of that.

I also consolidated all the boxes of birthday candles. And, you know the "number" candles? Well, you could conceivably use two of the same number--Charming *did* turn 44 a few years ago. But I had three 5's--unless I'm planning for someone to turn 555, I can get rid of one of those, right?

So, what happened then? Well, I threw away some old stuff. Somehow, the cans that were so old that they don't have a barcode, I couldn't bear to throw away. Symbols of a kinder, gentler time, you know? (I promise, I WILL deal with those. Pretty soon.) I kept one full and one opened can of nutmeg, as well as one of the cream of tartars. I took all the extras (as well as Eleven Boxes of Jello I didn't know I had) and packaged them up for Forget-me-not and Lily.

So I put the cupboard back together, and, as you can see, it is still packed pretty full:

And, it wasn't a perfect job. I'm so jealous of Jen I could spit nails.

But at least I can begin my holiday baking 1) without the fear of flying spices hitting me in the head, and 2) knowing that I actually probably don't have to buy any spices!

Just my little contribution to a Frugal Friday!

Learned Around the Cottage This Week

--Learned the word "fugit" (run away) and "fUgit" (that's a macron over that *u*--meaning "ran away") in Latin. From which we get the word "fugitive" in English. Alvin Fernald got super-excited over that light-bulb moment.

--Railroad ties are four feet, eight inches apart. This is exactly the same width as the Roman chariot. *One*, awesome that the measurements are exactly the same. *Two*, had no idea chariots were that wide. I'll have to watch Ben Hur more closely next time.

--Saw Venus and Jupiter hangin' out together last night. You're not too late to the party if you didn't see them. Read about it here. Be sure and read the entire article. I love reading how people have seen these same astronomical "treats" throughout the centuries. It boggles my mind how I can see things 250,000 miles away (the moon), 93.2 million miles away (Venus), and 540.3 million miles away (Jupiter) With My Naked Eye. People: Only God could do that!

[ooh. I had a question, then I think I answered it myself. If Venus is 93 million miles away, and the Sun is 93 million miles away, and Venus is the next planet between us and the sun...But then, of course, it's the Elliptical Orbit thing, isn't it? I sometimes forget that the planets are not all lined up all the time, like the illustrations in the science books, and are truckin' around the sun at different speeds...]

--let four boys with guitars, who last year at Alvin's birthday sleepover were braggin' about How Good They Were (or were going to be), alone for a year, and they come back, a lot more serious about music, and playing for hours, finding their "groove." No need for braggin'. And an impromptu mini-seminar from "expert" Charming into the bargain!

By the way, only one of the above was actually learned during schooltime. I love, love, love, how homeschooling has made us love learning for its own sake!

Thirty-five.

Almost two-thirds of my life ago (okay, that is entirely TOO depressing, let's start again):

I was a college freshman. Now, my dating life had been pretty lean. I didn't get asked out until the middle of senior year. I had two dates with a nice guy (and he gave me a very satisfactory "first kiss"), but all he wanted to talk about was cars, so we went our separate ways. I went to the prom with a friend, and I had a blind date senior summer with an airman when I visited my sister and her husband on the airbase. That was it. Four dates.

I was sure that college would be a Fresh Start. I was at a women's college with 1,800 students, across the street from a men's college with 7,000. The odds were on my side, right?

I went to mixers and parties and such, and, though I had fun times, Nobody Asked Me Out. I was really beginning to wonder what was wrong with me. My mother continued to tell me that I was beautiful, and she even predicted that I would be married by the time I was twenty.

The Wednesday after Thanksgiving break, a friend of mine asked me to dinner at the Men's Place (okay, it was Notre Dame). We had reciprocal dining privileges there. She was going out with a guy who had three roommates, and he wanted her to bring three friends. We arrived, and were introduced to the four guys, each one cuter than the one before. The last to be introduced was...Charming. My first thought was, "this is the handsomest guy I have ever seen." Then I argued (inside my head)--don't be ridiculous, it's just a guy. My second thought was, "I want to marry him!" (inside my head--what is the MATTER with you???)

Dinner did not hold promise. Charming was talking just as much with the other two girls who came with us as with me. After dinner, walking across campus, I trailed behind Charming and the other two girls (the sidewalks at ND hold three-across comfortably). Somewhere along the line, his other two roommates disappeared. We went back to his dorm room, where Charming played his guitar for us for awhile. My infatuation was growing by the minute: in the '70's, *everyone* wanted to date a guitar player.

Charming excused himself a little later, saying he had a date.

I went home a little later, chalking up the experience as another fun time, but expecting little else. Until about 11:30 when I got a call. From Charming. I had accidentally left my purse in his room. It took him a good long while to ask me out the next night, but after he did, It Was All Over.

It is really hard to grasp the fact that thirty-five years have passed. Inside, I am still that 18-year-old girl that fell hard for the "handsomest guy I had ever seen." And, he is still that handsome! I know better than to say that Love at First Sight is real, but those feelings are still there, along with the real Love that came later. And, by the way, we were married at twenty.

So, Happy Anniversary to my darling. Let's do another thirty-five, okay?

Ridiculous.

What Barbara Means

You are full of energy. You are spirited and boisterous. hmmm. Someone doesn't know me. AT ALL. I am probably the person with the *least* energy you know. You are bold and daring. You are willing to do some pretty outrageous things. Wrong-o. I'm the one in fifth grade you couldn't talk into playing hookey because I was sure I would be the one who got caught. Your high energy sometimes gets you in trouble. You can have a pretty bad temper at times. Again with the high energy? Now, I'll give you the bad temper part. My temper isn't too bad, but I can fly off the handle with no warning whatsoever faster than you can say "Jack Robinson." You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. Yeah, I strive for perfection. But I always give up 'way before I even get to "adequate." Again, I'm Not Type A. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. I don't know. Maybe you would think so. I certainly don't. You have the classic “Type A” personality. If you change that "A" to a "B" or "Q" or "V", you'd be closer. You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something. I may appear that way. Except for the "rebel" part. You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense. Where did I lay my energy? I'm sure it's around here somewhere. You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. There. Something that Charming would agree with. I. Am. A. Handful. Do you think these tests just spit out random answers? "We're rotating answers A through H today. You are "F" in the rotation. So here it is... If you want to know the truth, my name means "stranger" [think Barbarian], and my family will tell you that I am Stranger Than Most.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Fourteen

My baby, Alvin Fernald, is 14.

F.O.U.R.T.E.E.N.

For his birthday, he gets to drink coffee.

We bought him a razor.

His Dad is letting him play his $$$$$$$$$$$$ Taylor guitar all day today.

Whatever happened to Thomas the Tank Engine?

Sigh.

Almost in the No-Cavity Club!

I went to the dentist yesterday, after three years. (Don't lecture me, it was really only a little over two-and-a-half years, because when I called for the appointment, I couldn't get in for more than four months...) I didn't know what to expect, because, I have Figured Out, dental health is a cyclical process. I had bunches of fillings when I was younger, then a few years there when my reports were "clean." Then, in my 40's, my fillings either started falling out, or otherwise deteriorated, and needed replaced. For the past few years, I'm back in the "monitoring" cycle.

Ten years ago, I had a bad experience with a crown. Everything was going well, until the dentist put the Permanent Crown on. I had to bite down on a cotton wad for thirty seconds until the cement set. As I bit down, the tears literally rained down my face. It. hurt. so. bad. I mentioned it, and the dentist apologized, saying something like "it was probably because we had messed around in there so much" or something. I figured a couple of days would take care of the discomfort.

People, it was TEN MONTHS before I could chew on that side. I cancelled my next six-month checkup, but, after the ten months was over, I decided to give dental health another go-round. In the ensuing years, I let him do anything except Go Near That Tooth. However, I have had a lot of gum issues in that area. He warned against Bone Loss, and, three years ago, suggested that we Re-do That Crown. (sound of "Psycho" music with stabbing motion--eee! eee! eee!)

I said no, thank you.

You know about Pockets, don't you? The hygienist sticks a probe into the gum around the back, middle, and front of each tooth. 1's, 2's, and 3's are acceptable. I hear her going around my mouth: 2,3,3. 3,2,3. 2,2,2. 3,3,2. 2,1,2. (what?? I have a ONE?) Then, the Dreaded Crown Tooth: 6,7,6. People, Seven is not healthy.

I love the times in which we live. She took a little syringe thingy with anesthetic (no needle!) into the gums in the area. Then she took an sonic-wave thingy to remove the plaque. (no scraper--though it did "zing" me a couple of times. (Don't worry, though--the circulation in her wrist where I grabbed her, has probably come back by now.) Finally, a laser treatment to kill all bacteria. She said, "You may smell a little burning. Maybe see a puff of smoke. Hear some snap, crackle, pop sounds." As I smelled the acrid odor (how often do you get to use the word "acrid?"), she said, "that's just the laser, killing necrotic tissue." I felt like I was on CSI!

So, the end result is that I am starting with a Clean Slate. With good dental care, I should be maybe seeing some 5's by my next visit.

Then Dr. Bob came in. He said my only "cavity" was an old silver filling which had started to deteriorate. He'll just clean that one out in a minute, he said. But. We really need to talk about Replacing That Crown. It's Not Doing Well.

Yeah. Tell me about it.

I got out to the front office to check out. Which dentist would I like for my next appointment?
Gotta be Dr. Bob.

We have a History of Pain together.

A Cool Giveaway

Wow! Julie over at Red Hen Studios is having a giveaway. She is doing so, in order to advertise all of the great, great stuff she has in her Etsy shop.

I can never decide whether I like the handmade stuff or the vintage stuff better. (well, I already know. I love it all. But you get it all-in-one over at Julie's place.

So, go check it out, and put your name in for the giveaway. You'll have a difficult time deciding what you like best!

Big Week Ahead

Mostly, I'm posting this so I won't forget anything. There is a lot to do each and every day.

--I need to sign up for all the insurance *stuff* for next year for Charming's work by Thursday.

--I need to Not Forget to go to the dentist on Wednesday. Of course, I made the appointment six months ago. Used to be, the dentist sent a reminder postcard about a week before. Now he sends them for the whole month on the 1st. So I've had almost three weeks to forget.

--Our Thanksgiving meal will be this Friday, since Thanksgiving Day is the busiest of the year for Charming (can you say Cr*cker B*rrel??) and Nobody Gets Thanksgiving Off. Now, if all of you people would quit going out to eat on Thanksgiving, he could stay home. (okay, off my soapbox now--I *know* that there are older people and others who can't or do not desire to make a mess that takes three days to clean up.) It's okay. We're going to have a great time Friday. Charming's Dad and his wife are coming, as well as (I think) all my kids. Long about twenty in all will be here. Which leads me to...

--I need to make desserts on Thursday. Need to thaw the turkey starting 'bout Wednesday. Need to BUY a turkey before that.

--Pay the car payment by Thursday. Check already written, in my purse, to be dropped off at the bank today. Check this one off.

Guess it's not so bad. Adding, of course, cleaning and schoolwork and grocery shopping, but that is an everyday thing. Oh, yeah, one more thing:

--Remember to have a Good Attitude. Every day.

workin' on it.

Have a wonderful week!

Election Day

You Should Be Allowed to Vote

You got 15/15 questions correct. Generally speaking, you're very well informed. If you vote this election, you'll know exactly who (and what) you'll be voting for. You're likely to have strong opinions, and you have the facts to back them up.

Should You Be Allowed to Vote?

Well, I didn't take the quiz until *after* I voted, but it's nice to know that a random internet quiz thinks I'm ready-to-go.

I take voting very seriously. It is all-in-one a privilege, a right, and a responsibility.

A privilege, because we live in this country that is unique in all of civilization.

A right, because so many have fought for my right to vote.

A responsibility, not only because of the above two reasons, but also because of all the places in the world that voting is not available to its citizens. What happens in the U.S. affects so, so many other places in the world.

As always for the past 17 years, (since we've lived in this house) I walked just one block to my voting place, and cast my ballot. Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald accompanied me, as they have every election since they were born. This time, since it was Charming's day off, we were privileged to vote at the same time. An added bonus was that Lily and the children showed up at the same time!

I've been tagged!

Thanks to Jen for playing Tag!

Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.

2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.

3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.

4. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Here goes!

1. Ooh, like Jen, I LOVE forensics. Charming gave me a set of Quincy, M.E. dvds for my birthday. (oh, the primitive forensics before DNA...)

2. I got saved during the Jesus Movement. (One Way, Jesus!)

3. I took a ride on the Wabash Cannonball. (listen to the jingle, the rumble and the roar...)

4. My fingerprints are on file with the FBI. (see here for details.)

5. In 2000, Charming, I, and five of our children voted at the same precinct. (three of them still lived at home, one across the street, and the other down the street just three houses.) We, along with my three youngest, walked to the voting station. Three of them were voting for President for the first time.

6. I don't like jazz music (except for Mr. Rogers and Charlie Brown). I'm probably the only person in the universe who doesn't like jazz.

7. Ditto for Star Wars. Never seen it. or them. even the new ones.

Now for the tagging: I choose Michelle, Angel, Ruthie, Cindy, April, Julie, and Brenda.

Wow, What a Week!

I feel at loose ends today, because there has been absolutely no routine to my week. At All.

Violet, who is a dorm rector for a women's dorm at a university, was on Fall Break this week, so she planned a visit for Mon-Thurs. Ordinarily, we would have been able to do at least a modified schedule of academics, between visiting and FUN, but she had news that Eclipsed Everything Else.

Violet has a new boyfriend.

It is a story that was 18 months in the making, as that is how long they have been emailing each other. Not secretly or anything, (even though she never told ME) but just in a pen-pal way. Because he is French. As in, from FRANCE. And, naturally, if you have a Frenchy pen-pal, you are not looking to meet IRL anytime soon, you know?

Mr. France finished up his Ph.D. in Chemistry last month (he studied for four years in England) and decided to reward himself with some travel. So he asked Violet if she would be amenable to a visit to the U.S.A. He had been once before, at age 2, when his parents visited NYC and Disney World. Guess they thought they'd get a True Picture of the U.S. !!

It was a little scary, having never spoken to each other, but it all worked out. Having a solid friendship-base made the relationship thing easy to begin. From all reports, he is a Keeper. Loves the Lord, and anxious to both learn more about Violet, and to do things to please her.

So, by the end of ten days, they had what my Mother used to call an "understanding." His mother asked Violet to visit, so she is going after Christmas.

Suffice it to say, since Violet planned to tell each sibling the "new News", that we had lots of company. Charming was off Tuesday and Wednesday, so FUN was the order of the day. Under those circumstances, schoolwork was pretty much impossible.

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Violet went home yesterday, but I had to cram all of the week's errands into one day. Today (Friday), I am at Forget-me-not's house (it is 6am) because she is scheduled for gall-bladder surgery at 8:30 am. It is very strange to have one of my children going through something without ME in the waiting room. I have even been with both Forget-me-not and Lily at the births of their children. But Blueberry and Oxford will be better off, keeping to their routine. The surgery is supposed to be just an hour long, so hopefully, Rocky and Forget-me-not will be home later today.

So here I am at Friday. Forget-me-not will still need help for a few days, so my need for Routine will have to wait a little longer. Yet, I am grateful that she lives just five minutes away, and we are able to "do Life together." No mommy wants to be far away when one of her babies is goin' through something.

I still have to deal with the fact that, if Violet and Mr. France end up in a Positive Conclusion, that she *may* not end up living five minutes away from me. More likely 4000 miles away.

Sigh.

Charming Has Been Busy!

My darling, Charming, blogged three times yesterday. He's been thinking a lot lately.

Go check him out!

Jumbled Week

Random happenings in my week (in case *anyone* cares?):

Blackeyed Susan took a week off from ballet classes, thinking she might want to quit altogether. At twelve years into her dance education, she has well passed our time-rule of "you have to do it for at least two years before you can quit" that we instituted 'way back with our first Band Student. Five weeks into the dance year, she seemed to dread every class. She has other things in her life she wants to pursue (by high school, many of the ballet girls do nothing else but ballet and school--six days of ballet per week can do that to 'ya). And she said that she was finding it more difficult to finish her schoolwork this year.

So, quitting was fine with me. As the week went on, I didn't hear any Wistful Sighing of things missed. But, Wednesday night, she told me she'd like to go back, at least for a few days, to Reconsider.

Smart girl. She went back last night to pointe class, but will miss tonight because of a promised babysitting job. We'll see how next week goes.

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Driving home from church two weeks ago, my car broke down. Charming's diagnosis, from the white smoke coming from the exhaust and potent gasoline smell, was Blown Head Gasket. ($$$$$$$$$$$$). The good news was, if that was indeed the problem, my '07 was 33,588 miles into a 36,000 mile warranty. But, as we had No Money to fix a car unless it was a warranty issue, we waited until Charming could get together with our wonderful Mechanic Neighbor. He concurred with the diagnosis, so I called the dealership. I now have my car back, after several tries by the service department. Their notes read (paraphrased into my own shorthand):

Head gasket and fuel injector bad. Fixed that, car still misfired. Fixed something else, car still misfiring. Took wheel off, found so-and-so wire melted. Fixed that, installed new computer ($$$$$$$$$$$!!!), finally runs good.

How much did I love that right-hand column of N/C, N/C, N/C's because it was All Covered Under The Warranty!

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Lily talked me into sharing a table at a Craft Bazaar on November 1st. Thing is, most women who do that sort of thing Plan For It for an entire year. I had two months. So far, I have made twenty cute-as-pie aprons, sixteen shopping bags (I'm calling them Eco-Friendly shopping bags so I can charge Big Bucks for them...) and seven purses. Still to come, three more purses, and (hopefully) a number of cutie Christmas smocks for toddlers, like I made for my grandkids last Christmas.

The thing is, my house is suffering big-time. It is not good for me to be un-balanced. This weekend, I need to re-assess, and get things back right-side-up.

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Today is Charming's day off! It may be more of a Sabbath, stay-at-home day, rather than a go-do-stuff day. We didn't set an alarm, and so far, I'm the only one up.

Do you find it difficult to take a Sabbath kind of day, especially during the week? Charming works most Sundays, and, on days he "opens," doesn't even get to church. Yet, on his days off, he feels the need to get things done. We know from practical experience that taking days of rest and reflection are vital. It's just So Hard To Do, you know?

Election Curiosities

My Daddy, who is eighty-six, thought his voting days were over. I didn't press the issue until he saw Mrs. Palin. He is quite enamoured of her, and told me several times, "I wish I could vote for *her* for President." So I called the voter registration in his new county (he moved last April to a nursing home in a different county), and they told me that the Activities Director at the nursing home could send in the paperwork, and arrange for the Mobile Voting Team to take his vote.

That was Friday. The Activities Director called me back and said that all the paperwork had to be at the County Clerk's office by 5:00 pm That Day. She had mailed all the stuff the day before. She told me she asked Daddy if he wanted to vote and he said no. (yep, having an elderly parent can be frustrating...) I told her I thought I would call the Voter Registration again and see if I could do something. The A.D. offered to do so for me. She called me right back and said that they were going to fax her another form. She ran down to Dad's room (it was near 4:30 already), got the info, and faxed it back. (by the way, I love Daddy's nursing home!)

So it looks like Daddy will be voting!

He called me that evening to tell me a story. He said, "it was one of you kids' being born, and it was Election Day." (well, only one of us was born near Election Day...it was '56) Mama was in the hospital, four days post-partum, and wanted to vote. A man from the Election Board came, accompanied by the sheriff. They had to move Mother's roommate's bed out into the hallway, and the sheriff Locked the Door and stood outside while mother gave her vote to the man. I don't know if they do that anymore (especially the Sheriff part) but it reminds me of my mother telling me (every election time) about how, in this country, voting is a Sacred Privilege.

"When I married your father, I promised to love, honor, and obey him. But when I step into that voting booth, it is between me and God. Not even your father has a right to tell me how to vote."

Gosh, I love that. It sounds so unbelievably barbaric to today's sensibilities. And, that is not to say that Daddy did not know how Mother voted. They would get the sample ballots out of the newspaper, and fill them out the night before, so they wouldn't take up too much time in the voting booth. And, I think they filled them out together!

Finally, a bit of history for you younger folks. When I was in high school, the 26th amendment was passed. This lowered the voting age from twenty-one to eighteen. I thought the argument "for" the amendment was well-founded. The Vietnam War was raging, and the slogan was, "if you are old enough to kill for your country, then you are old enough to vote." Remember, young men were being drafted--the army was not all-volunteer at that point. It gives me pause to think of all the young men drafted into all the previous wars, who had to fight without this right. So many of us don't have a clue how precious this privilege really is. Others of us take the right casually, seeing it as optional.

Of course, we cannot forget the fact that we, as women, have not always had the right to vote. Here is a link featuring women who were jailed and beaten for protesting because they did not have the right to vote. And here is a link to an article about the "night of terror" some of them endured in 1917, because they protested Mr. Wilson's White House.

This election, we keep hearing the words, "the most significant election in decades." Well, if you haven't been around as long as I have, I have news for you--they say that Every Election. Every election is significant--we saw that when we elected Mr. Bush in 2000. He took office in January 2001, and wasn't really expecting the world to change the next September.

So. Is your voter registration up to date?

A Psalm for Sunday

"By day the LORD directs His love,
at night His song is with me--
a prayer to the God of my life." --Psalm 42:8, NIV

Isn't that beautiful?

Better Every Day

I wrote yesterday that I was feeling anxious about many things, and that I was being blessed by reading a certain blog entry. Doesn't that happen to you? These Friends I've made, blogging, have so many riches to share. As we journey through our lives with our Father, our experiences are not just for us. II Corinthians, chapter 1 says that they are so we may comfort others who are going through the same things. In God's economy, nothing is wasted, and everything is reusable! [We can call it Recycling--God's way!]

The Lord spoke to me yesterday through my Bible reading. Now it has all "fallen into place." Of course, *I* was the one who was "out of place" in my thinking. Nothing has really changed. Money looks just as tight. Other areas of my life seem just as out of control. But God has been there All The Time, taking care of me as He always has.

This morning I read a post at Mrs. Copper's Wife. It is called "It's Enough." She looks at the word "enough"--what does it mean? OF COURSE it means that we have what we need! Here is a little bit:

God's provision is always enough, no matter the commodity. He gives
us time enough, if only we would be faithful to use those hours to their best
advantage. He gives us wisdom enough, if only we would seek it out as the
treasure that Scripture tells us that it is. He gives His children rest
enough, if we would only choose to take the rest He sends.

Wow. Isn't that cool?

And, thank you to my many other friends, who often have a word "just for me." I appreciate you all so much!

Climbing Back to Health

Well, I'm back "on the road" to health. Still only about 60% today...quite tired still. Thank you for all of your prayers.

I'm feeling anxious about many things.

And being blessed by reading Jewels today.

May Cause Exciteability

I'm three days into a major cold.

Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald had it exactly a week ago. Not having caught it after two or three days, I thought I had escaped. After all, there are 200 rinoviruses, right? Isn't there a chance that my children would catch one that I've already had, and therefore am immune to? But no-o-o-o.

This one Slammed In. Like a hurricane, or maybe more like a blizzard. From 9 am on Sunday to 9 am on Monday, I logged seventeen hours sleep. So, Monday, I got up at 9, then *only* took a two-hour nap. After all, I didn't want to toss and turn all Monday night, from having too much sleep.

At 10 pm, I decided to Hedge my Bet. Took a big swig of nyquil. Fast forward to oh, one a.m. See me THRASHING around in my bed. Throwing myself around, waking poor Charming up. (he only gets to sleep till 3:45 am this morning...) Dreaming little silly dreams, like all the stop signs in Wasilla, Alaska, being shaped like all-day suckers.

Before Charming could kick me out of bed, I came downstairs. Fortunately, the 1933 Little Women was on Turner Classic Movies. By the time Jo fell in love with Professer Bhaer, I was sleepy enough to go back to bed. But before I did, I checked that bottle of nyquil--you know, the stuff with Alcohol in it...there it was, in little print: May Cause Exciteability, Especially In Children.

Well, I'm fifty-three years old. Does that qualify?

Oatmeal Cake

This is for Jen, who asked for the recipe a few weeks ago. It is wonderfully moist, and yummy supreme:

Oatmeal Cake

1 1/4 C. boiling water over 1 C. quick oats. Let stand 20 minutes.

In a bowl: 1/4 C. butter
1 C. brown sugar
1 C. white sugar
Cream shortening with sugars. Add:
2 eggs 1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. vanilla 1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
Mix well. Add alternately 1 1/3 C. flour and the oats. Bake in a 9x13 pan at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes.

Topping:
1/3 C. melted butter 1/2 C. brown sugar
1/4 C. milk 1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 C. coconut 1/2 C. chopped nuts
Mix the topping ingredients and pour over cake. Place under broiler just until brown.

And, if you like, you can use my Grandma's rule for the nuts:

"Whatever the recipe calls for [for nuts], double it, and it'll be just *about* right."

Always works for me!

If You're Still Considering Whom to Vote for...

My Daddy (86 years old), at our visit today:

"Yeah, I like that woman VP. She has a lot good to say, and she really loves her babies.

She reminds me of Mama." [my mother]

As far as I'm concerned, Sarah Palin can have no bigger endorsement!

Bridal Shower

(This post was first published August 30, 2006.)

Yesterday was my birthday, and I felt melancholy here and there throughout the day. It was my first since Mom passed away. Every birthday after I left home, Mother and Daddy would call me early in the morning and sing to me--most often the first greeting of the day.Today would have been my Mom and Dad's 65th wedding anniversary. I always felt special, being their "14th anniversary present.

"Mother had a "bride's book," which in no way resembles what we now call a "Wedding Album." Or even what my daughter and daughter-in-law had as a "wedding planner." Two-inch binders with places for cards, ribbons, and other mementos. Mother's was the size of one of those black "composition books," only about a quarter as thick, probably thirty pages or so. It is wonderful because it is handwritten by her--her own memories of her wedding.

She had a wedding shower. I notice that now we have several of them: kitchen, linen, personal, couples...she had *one*. She made quite a haul, mostly with linens. Several sets of "luncheon cloth and napkins"--those fabulous 1940's sets that we snatch up at antique stores. "Embroidered tea towels." "Embroidered pillowslips." Don't I wish I had them now? But, naturally, they were given and received in order to be used, and used UP. (I do have one of a pair of guest towels that she embroidered in the first year of her marriage--so threadbare, but it still says GUEST, with a garland of flowers all around.)

When we buy these vintage linens, we always think about the women who made them and used them. We'd love to feel the connection to another time. Women just like my mother, whose entry under "Our First Home," tells of how, after their wedding night, they just wanted to come home, so they "brought groceries home, and [she] fixed her first meal," the second night of their marriage.So much lay ahead for them--they were married months before Pearl Harbor. They were destined to raise only five of their thirteen children to adulthood. Two cancers. The everyday ups and downs plus the "added dose" of sorrow for their lives, could not be seen when she filled out her "bride's book."

We all share that, in this Sisterhood of women. So many hopes and dreams as we open those wedding shower gifts. Life moves along, humdrum or tragic, year by year. I am so grateful to our Lord that He gave my parents 64 years. A marriage in which their love grew more deeply as every anniversary rolled around. I had a model of How to Do Marriage Well that enabled me to choose a husband wisely, and to be an example for me, for 30 years so far, and is now the model for my children to follow. That is the inheritance I have from them. I would have loved to have the linens from that long-ago bridal shower, but I have the better gift in the example of their LIVES. That gift will never be "used up."

In Good Company

Today is my birthday!

Today is also John McCain's birthday.

Today is his running mate, Sarah Palin's, wedding anniversary.

I'm in fine company today.

I Heart Peaches

I (heart) peaches.

Whoa.

Thursday night, Johnny Tremain and Lily came for dinner with the children. We also had Blueberry and Oxford, because their parents Forget-me-not and Rocky Balboa were going out to celebrate their fourth wedding anniversary (congrats, guys!).

Of course, there was lots of noise and fun happening. At one point, Johnny asked, "where can I find a band-aid?" Thinking he was asking Lily or me, he (and all of us) was surprised when Sweet Pea answered, "in the bathroom, in the cupboard, behind the mirror." (medicine cabinet)

Whoa.

Have I mentioned that Sweet Pea turned two in May? That makes her two years and three months old. I'm sure she is still far away from the time she is supposed to be able to FOLLOW three-part directions. How old is the "norm" for GIVING three-part directions?

A budding genius, I'm sure. Yet, I know that it may be an anomaly, and may not happen again.

Till she's five or so, when she is "supposed" to be doing it. I guess nobody told her she wasn't "supposed" to know it yet!