Relationship evangelism.

"Grace was no insistent evangelist, flinging her message out and demanding an answer. She breathed the fragrance of Christianity in her smile, and her words came involuntarily from a heart that thought much "on these things."

--Grace Livingston Hill, Re-Creations.

Cuteness.

At every Super Bowl time, the governors of the states of the two contenders will make friendly wagers. But for this weekend's Bears/Packers game, librarians in Chicago and Green Bay are getting into the act with their own wagers.

If the Packers win, the Chicago Library will be the happy recipients of the following books:

Little House in the Big Woods

Old Bear

Quickie Makes the Team (by a local Green Bay author)

When Pride Still Mattered (about Vince Lombardi)

and, finally: We're Going on a Bear Hunt.

If "da Bears" are victorious, the Green Bay Library will receive extra copies of:

Meet the Bears, and

The Stinky Cheese Man.

How darn cute is this?

I love Men.

I get so, so tired of tv shoes and movies that make men look moronic. I think I first really noticed it when the show Home Improvement was on the air. It was funny, for sure, but Tim was always the one with the Idea that Wouldn't Work, or Messing Up everything so that Mom or Wilson or one of the boys had to straighten it out.

I'll be the first to admit that I don't understand men. But they don't understand us, either. We have a joke around here: if women weren't around trying to "civilize" men all the time, they'd just stand their jeans up in the corner of the cave every night. Saves on laundry, right? And I've laughed at my share of oh-my-goodness-MEN! jokes. But I notice from time to time that it gets to be a habit. A habit that definitely needs adressing.

I like to look at Charming's hands. They are what he calls "ping-pong paddle" hands--as wide as they are long. No long fingers as would befit a guitar player of more than forty years. But I love to watch them as they move along the strings. I love those hands when they are holding mine. When they comfort one of our children or grandchildren. When they are fixing the toilet at 11 at night, or changing the taillight on the car at 10 degrees outside. Things that he doesn't ask me to do. We actually had an agreement: I wouldn't make him change diapers if he didn't make me "wrestle" a toilet (changing the wax ring). I know, I know, you have to do that about three times in your lifetime, but still...

My sister lost most of the men in her life last year. My father passed away in March, and her father-in-law in November. And in August, she lost her dear husband. But she still has her two strong sons to stand by her side, and wrestle that toilet if need be.

I know that women are as capable as men at doing just about anything. But I think the Bible teaches that that Protector/Provider role is a good thing. My "knight in shining armor," as Kate Hepburn said to Henry Fonda in On Golden Pond.

Maybe this post doesn't make any sense. Maybe it's just where my mind is wandering this afternoon. But I think maybe I need to do a little less man-bashing, and a little more appreciating these days.

Love you, honey. Thanks for doing that toilet thing.

New Year's Ponderings

I didn't have any real New Year's plans, except for catching some of the Twilight Zone marathon on Syfy channel. Blackeyed Susan commented, "so many of them are about outer space!" Certainly the America *I* lived in in the late 50s and early 60s was obsessed about space! We were in a race with the Soviet Union. They won the first two rounds, the first artificial satellite, and the first man in space. But we caught up with the first man to Orbit the earth! President Kennedy vowed that we would have a man on the moon by the end of the decade. And the wondering about whether there was life on other planets pervaded our television programs. Why we assumed that those life forms were always more intelligent or technologically advanced than Earth's, I don't know. Why couldn't we be the most intelligent, and find lesser life forms on other planets? Oh, well, I don't make these decisions...

I went to the grocery on New Year's Day, and found an incredible bargain. I bought two four-packs of New York strip steaks for about $2.60 per 12-ounce steak! We put away the two biggest ones for a later date-night, and invited Susan's boyfriend and Alvin Fernald's girlfriend for dinner. Yummy-yum yum! I baked my favorite pie (Marie Callendar's Razzleberry) and vanilla ice cream for dessert. We had dessert in front of...more Twilight Zone. It was an impromptu party, and very, very fun! One of the things Charming wants to do this year is to do more things with our youngest two children, who, at 17 and 16, usually can find something else to do besides spending it with parental units...

I'm not good at resolutions. But, going along with Jen at The Pause That Refreshes, I wanted to make a personal goal of sorts. So here it is:

No Barb-bashing this year.

This is extremely personal, as it is something that only I do. I can get to feeling worthless faster than breathing, almost. Listing all of the things I've been a failure at. All of the things I need to do that I'm not doing. BUT...since God thinks I'm fabulous just the way I am, and my family loves me *anyway,* then I am doing nothing but wasting precious time, taking this responsibility on myself. Or listening to the Enemy, if that is what it is. He is the "accuser of the brethren," and the "Condemner." So if I am hearing negative things about me, they are going to have to be shucked into the garbage where they belong. Let me know if I'm falling down on this, okay?

I will also continue to read some of the classics that I've missed along the way. Last year I read Dracula, completing my Monster trilogy (in 2009 I read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Frankenstein) and the unabridged Little Women (562 pages!)

Well, I am off for Monday Morning Errands. I'm jealous of Jen, who is going. nowhere. today.

(maybe tomorrow!)

A little bit o' Christmas.

If only I were a more talented photographer.

Each of my three daughters has taken classes in photography. Violet has a beautiful (read: expensive) camera. All of the photos taken with other cameras are nicer than these. But you'll have to put up with mine!


Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald were invited to a "fancy" party Christmas week. Don't you love when your kids get gussied up?

Alvin and his girlfriend Hannah.

Susan and her boyfriend Devonte.

I had to make new Christmas-baking aprons for my four oldest grands, because they, well, they just outgrew their toddler ones. (imagine that.) Here are three of them, with their brother, who still fits in a little one:

Laura Carrot, Junior Asparagus, Cambridge, Sweet Pea.


Susan made Devonte a hat! She picked up crocheting again (first time in years), and finished very quickly. I love her comment: "it's so nice to have something to do with your hands while you're doing something else."

I made flannel jammy pants for the grands, as I always do. But the two older girls wanted matching pjs for their dolls, so I did the nightgown thing. I had forgotten how wonderful flannel nightgowns were. This won't be the last pair I make!

Charming found a present for our newest granddaughter that he just couldn't resist. Put on your Justin Timberlake voice and sing it with me: "I'm bringin' chubby back..."

Tiger Lily sportin' a 'tude.

One thing I don't understand. My thighs look exactly like Tiger Lily's, but nobody thinks they're cute.

Christmas Day was quieter. We had a slowish day, then dinner at night. Several of the family were at other commitments, so all of the grownups fit at the "grownup" table. We had music later, to finish the evening.

We are looking forward to a more normal schedule for Charming, who now works in retail. He was almost three weeks without a day off, and his store was open 7 am to midnight the last week. Incredibly, he has two days off this week! I'm going to have to remember what that is like.

My prayers for a blessed New Year go out to all of you!

Don't eat yellow snowflakes.

Alvin has an "ugly Christmas sweater" party at school today. I pulled out the sweater my Daddy wore for Christmases most of the way through the 60's. (not that it's ugly or anything...)

I kept the sweater in order to make a toss pillow out of it. Alvin, however, has claimed it for himself, for as long as the spirit lingers.

By the way, the sweater is "100% acrylic", which explains the lack of moth hole damage. It will probably look exactly the same a hundred years from now!

I'm out of the Cottage today...

I'm over visiting at Fresh Starts today. The link is to my own blog entry. Be sure to also go the main blog and read all of the entries for Advent. And tune in every Monday for a great new devotional!

In and out of the car eight times. Not a good thing.

Okay, if I never drive again it will be too soon. Yesterday went like this:

7:10 am drove Blackeyed Susan to school. Alvin's friend was picking him up.

8:00 am drove Joe Hardy across town to college. His battery is bad, and can't fix it till Friday.

Was supposed to drive 4-year-old Blueberry to pre-school, but his daddy was home.

9:30 am. Got a call from Lily. Could I drive Sweet Pea to ballet?

10:00-11:00 am. Sat at ballet, and met the greatest Catholic lady! Talked about lots of stuff--we are definitely going to be friends.

After driving Sweet Pea home, I actually was home for two hours! Took a nap.

2: 00 pm. Drove to the pickup line at high school. After sitting for 40 minutes, Alvin said, "didn't I tell you I didn't need a ride home?" (no.) Susan went to a friend's after school.

3;40 pm. Drove Alvin to work at the mall.

4:00 pm. Picked up Joe Hardy at college.

4:30 pm. Dropped off Joe at his house. Called Susan: are you ready? no.

6:15. Forget-me-not called. Could I go sit with the kids for a half-hour? She was getting off work late, and her hubby had to leave.

7:25 pm. Forget-me-not finally home. Called Susan--she was finally ready.

7:35 pm. Picked up Susan.

7:40 pm. Home again. Took Don Quixote and his laundry home.

7:50 pm. Home. Supper.

8:45 pm. Off to the mall to pick Alvin up.

9:20 pm. Home. Called Joe Hardy. Told him he could borrow my car tomorrow. Going to call all of my children and tell them that the only people I am driving/babysitting are the ones that live under my roof.

Alternately, going into hiding in a convent.

gotta love the English language.

I asked Don Quixote (fount of all useless and sometimes useful knowledge): Honey, you know how they used to hang a bell outside of caskets because sometimes they would bury someone alive by mistake? I know that we get one of our idioms from that, but I can't remember what it is.

Don to Mom:

They had people who worked the graveyard shift so that dead ringers could be saved by the bell.

Mom to Don:

Show-off.

(but don't you think it is funny that we get *three* of our idioms from one situation?)

Bono calls the Church on the carpet.

Food for thought:



"Stop asking God to bless your work. Find out what God is already doing, because it is already blessed."

Friday wrap-up.

I wasn't going to go out today.

I used to love (and I mean LOVE) going out on Black Friday. I'd plan my strategy, set the alarm, get a cup of coffee, and out the door. Park away-out-on-Pluto. Stand with the madding crowd waiting for the doors to open. Get my stuff (I was always fairly successful in getting what I wanted), and off to the next store. I usually went two places, and then home by 9 am or so. It was fun. It was an adventure. And I was in my thirties.

About ten years ago, the appeal just wasn't there anymore. I went a couple of years ago to the fabric store with Lily. And it was there that I developed my Fabulous Black Friday Strategy. (yep. I went all those years without it.)

[I will share my fabulous strategy in a minute.]

So, after waking Charming at Two A.M. (he now works retail, and his store opened at 3:30 this morning), I went back to sleep and woke up at 6:30. I got up to a quiet house. Kids asleep. I fixed coffee, wrote my sister a letter, picked up a few dishes that were laying around. Charming had to take my car to work, because the heat is out in his. I figured to have Joe Hardy take Blackeyed Susan to work at 5 pm. I would Stay Home All Day.

But Joe said he couldn't take her. He could, however, take me to get the car at Charming's store.
We went at 10:30.

Wow. Every parking space filled. Cars waiting while "done" shoppers made their way to their cars to steal their spaces. I figured that while I was there, I might as well go into the store.

The line to the registers went from the front of the store to the back, all the way across the back, and three-quarters of the way up to the front again. That's when I remembered my Fabulous Strategy, but I didn't have a partner. (darned teenaged sleeping people.) Here is how it goes:

When you walk into a store on *those* days, one of you gets a cart and immediately gets in line. (my line was 45 minutes long, but remember, I went late morning. Charming said the early lines were 2 hours.) Certainly you can shop in two hours, right? Well, one of you stays with the cart. The other shops for a few things, brings them back to the cart, and then the other person shops. Tag-team it all the way around the store. Your waiting time is almost down to nothing then!

The way it works in the fabric store is this: when you go in the store, you get a take-a-number from the cutting table immediately. When I got mine, there were fifty people ahead of me. Fifty. Five-oh. By the time I finished shopping, I had just a ten-minute wait for the cutting table.

I watch the morning news during the school year, for weather and other things. Every morning for the last two weeks they have featured a story on Black Friday shopping. How to plan your trip. How to get the best deals. How to whatever. Not one time did they give a strategy for reducing your wait-time in line. So I just did it for you.

There you have it. I got exactly what I went in for: gifts for the four grand-boys. I got just what I wanted, and Charming's 20% discount. Like I said, I didn't bring a partner, so I had to wait the full time. But I got to share my strategy with the two carts ahead of and behind me in line. And they took opportunity to do more shopping while we queued around the store, using my strategy. So I was able to increase sales for Charming's store while I was at it!

The only bad thing was that I Had To Go Out Today. But that's okay. I got four gifts with not a lot of grief. Got to share my Strategy with several women. (as I was leaving the store, a pair of ladies asked me for my cart. I told them about the Strategy, and one of them volunteered to stand in line while the other shopped!)

Yep. My good deed done for the day. *and* I got a nap!

Wow. Thanksgiving.

That is, Thanksgiving already.

It is so exciting this year, because all eight of my children, three spouses, one boyfriend, and eight grands will be here. That's twenty-three for dinner, folks, and it is a good thing.

Since all good and perfect gifts come from the Father, it is easy to have a heart full of thanksgiving. I find myself saying "thank You, Father," all the time. Yesterday we had an incredible sunrise here. Many facebook friends mentioned it, or posted a cellphone pic. I thought, how wonderful! God can get everybody's attention, all at once! "The heavens declare the glory of God." I could never, ever list all of the things I'm thankful for (so I won't try), but will name just one or two, if it's okay with you?

Thankful, of course, that we will all be together this day. Informal family photos planned. Gift exchange names...exchanged, for Christmas. Delegated the food this year, so all I'm making is turkey (carved by Charming, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy (made by Charming.) I did throw together two pumpkin pies yesterday, because Blackeyed Susan said I had to (even tho' two other desserts are coming). You know, even with all of the Food Network shows "steppin' it up" with the Thanksgiving menus, that. never. works. Don't mess with the basics.

One of those desserts is a Birthday Cake (made by Forget-me-not). My baby boy (Alvin Fernald) turns sixteen today. I'm not dealing well with it. Just like two weeks ago when we ordered graduation announcements and cap-and-gown for Susan.

Alvin was born the day after Thanksgiving, on his due date. The doctor didn't want me to go over, because he was so honkin' big. (ten pounds, five-and-a-half ounces. Charming asked me once, "why do you add that half-ounce? It doesn't matter!") Any of you who have had a baby, especially if you had him naturally, and pushed for an hour and ten minutes, knows it-certainly-does-make-a-difference. So there. It's my WarStory, and I'm stickin' to it.

Alvin (my "sweet Baby James") is a lovin' boy. There are so many things I could tell you about him. He is talented (and coming along amazingly on the guitar), smart (wish he'd show it more often), a good worker (ditto the former comment), loyal. And, he is finally bigger than his brothers, who are eleven, fourteen, fifteen, and seventeen years older than he.

Happy birthday, my sweet boy. I thank God especially for you today.

Old House Hunting; or Re-living a Life in Three Hours or Less.

Note: This post is made mostly for my own children, so I won't be offended if you skip it!

Charming and I were able to get away for a three-day to celebrate our thirty-fifth anniversary. Our daughter Violet, who works at Notre Dame, was able to secure a guest apartment for us to use. What a blessing! A place to be alone when we wanted, to eat "in" if we desired. Because we met at Notre Dame, we planned to stroll the campus on Saturday. When we woke, Charming had a different idea. He thought it would be fun to go find all of the houses we lived in when we lived in South Bend (which happened in three different spans of time).

Here is our first crummy little apartment, upstairs at 2428 West Monroe. It was partially furnished, and we paid $95 a month. The Polish landlady lived downstairs:

And yes, this house has been torn down. But you can see the entrance to the driveway!

A year or so later, Charming was promoted at his job, making a big $230 a week, which meant that I could quit my job and be a homemaker. We found this little house, 214 Riley Place, for $135 a month. It is the first of three little houses-in-a-row. Riley "Place" is really an alley with four houses on it:
This house is a really important house. Here the Enemy tried to steal our marriage, and Here the Lord prevailed, healing it to a better-than-before state (the only way He does things, don't you know?). One of the big Ebenezers in our life.

Just a bit of fun trivia. During the Blizzard of '78, Charming braved the chest-high snow to walk to this neighborhood market to buy milk and Pepsi.

Now we have a little break in the action. We moved to Lebanon, Indiana, then to Decatur, Indiana, Fort Wayne, and two houses in Noblesville, Indiana. Five houses, five moves in the next eighteen months. At the end of that time, Charming once again got a job in South Bend.

He went ahead of me, in order to secure a place to live for us. He found a house that was actually less than ten years old, that was for sale, but empty. The owner was in Texas, and told Charming he wanted six hundred a month. Charming told him he could pay $325. The owner declined, but called him back four hours later to accept. Thus, we lived in a really-cool-newish house for the first time in our lives. It is at 1215 Priscilla Drive:

Eventually the owner sold the house. A lady knocked on the door one Sunday night and told us we had to be out by Wednesday at midnight. (now we know that this is not legal, but back then we didn't know so much...) Charming had the next two days off, so we thought we would be Just Fine.

Those two days went by, and Nothing happened. So here we find ourselves at Wednesday morning, Charming heading off to work, no telephone (another story), and we (us, three kids and one-on-the-way) had till midnight to get-out-of-Dodge. No home, no husband to help pack, and not enough boxes, either.

This was going to be a walk of faith, of trust that, not only "could" God do it, but that He "would!"

I walked to the Seven-Eleven to make a phone call, and on the way home, I passed the home of somebody who drove a potato-chip truck. He was throwing a number of boxes out of his truck, so I walked up and asked him for them. That little thing helped me carry on with my "you can do it, God!" thing.

I worked all day, still trying to trust, and, sure enough, at seven p.m. Charming drove into the driveway with a U-haul, followed by two or three guys to help. The Lord had provided a little house at 1134 Rose Street:

We unloaded the last box, Charming drove the truck back, and we shut the front door at 11:45 pm.

I loved this little house. It had asphalt linoleum that you had to wet-mop every day or it got really dusty. It had a lot of built-in dressers and other cool things. AND a big-honkin' air conditioner that cooled the whole house.

Then we have another break again. We left South Bend for Louisville, and lived there for three years (and two more babies).

When we came again to South Bend, we found a little house at 626 East Fairview:

I don't know how we got eight of us into this little house, but I liken it to birth: when we moved out, we never could go back in!

In this house, Violet turned twelve, so she was finally old enough to leave our other kids with. Charming and I developed a habit of long walks in the morning. We had never owned a home, and decided on one of our walks to just start the process. We found a really lovely home in an older neighborhood, at 1037 North Brookfield:

We lived here for almost four years, and then moved to our present home in Fort Wayne.

We lived in twelve houses in sixteen years, and next month, we will have lived in our present home for nineteen years.

Maybe we've finally settled down?

Hmmmm.

I saw that commercial for chocolate. You know the one--or maybe I'm morphing all the chocolate commercials into one. Rippling brown satin in the background. Beautiful women with brownish lipstick. Or the one with the Everywoman getting a piece of chocolate "just because she deserves it."

Then they use the word: Decadence.

Or maybe the commercial is for a luxury car, hidden in the driveway at Christmastime with a big red bow. Or that fabulous four-course dinner, with the decades-old wine. Or the show on the Discovery Channel--World's Largest Mansions. Did you see the one with the World's Biggest Yachts?

We can use the word Decadence again. Or maybe Ultimate. Or Over the Top. Or Extreme. Whatever it is, we deserve it. Maybe we can't afford it, but We Deserve It.

When did the word "decadent" become something desirable? Looking it up in my dictionary, I find it means

perverse, deteriorating, decaying.

Yep. The root word for decadence is DECAY.

Now you remember, don't you? They used that word when describing the Fall of Rome. Or Henry the VIII. Or Marie Antoinette: "So there's no bread? Let them eat cake." Decadence indicated a deterioration of moral standards.

Oops. Does that phrase remind you of...America? We complain that our children have no work ethic, and in extreme cases, no conscience. "what's in it for me?" is the new creed. We deny ourselves nothing.

Nothing.

And of course that description is not just for our children. We are getting too far away from the time when the actual value of anything matters. I don't even use ten dollar bills. I use ones and fives and twenties. I complain that "once I break a twenty it just disappears," and I really don't do anything about that. That's just one example. Let's get into something that really matters.

Charming and I were talking about this a few days ago, and he said something I've been trying to process: Are we living in the full integrity of the Holy Spirit? First of all, what does that mean? And what does it say, that I don't have an answer for that? I have heard people say (and if I am truly honest, I'm sure I've said this, as well), "Oh, well, I know that is a sin (or whatever euphemism they might use, like "mistake" or "poor judgment") but God will understand. What is that?

We talk the talk really well. When are we going to walk the walk? We use excuses: we're too busy, too distracted, not enough money, not enough time. Yeah, I'm right there with you. And if you have a quick and easy answer, let me know.

Or maybe not. Because I don't think this one is going to be either quick or easy.

Yet another update.

This is really pathetic. I have been blogging so sporadically in the past months. And most of them are "updates." I used to "think" once in awhile, and really enjoyed putting those thoughts down here in Blogville. And, Jen, I did get your message about another Fresh Starts. Workin' on it, girl.

Yesterday, Charming and I celebrated our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. That is a really long time, folks. Until I think of my parents' sixty-four years. Then I realize that we have "not yet achieved", but it is a beautiful road on which to travel. At once it seems like we have been together a long time, and that it has just flown by. What? Six children grown, and the last two in high school? Impossible!

Charming has a rare three-day weekend, and we are traveling to the Beginning Place. Violet, who works at Notre Dame (where Charming and I met), will get us a "guest apartment" on campus. The weekend looks perfect for strolling the campus and remembering--70 degrees and sunny. We will also see family for pizza, and best-friends for a steak-dinner-for-four. Alone time *and* Family time--perfect.

I returned last Wednesday from a trip to Phoenix to see my sister. It is the first time I have been in her [very gracious and lovely] home, and the trip was more special as she has recently lost her husband. In fact, he was the one who suggested the trip, and "upgraded" my plane tix to first-class! The trip is not the same one we planned in July, but we spent precious time together, which is better than anything else, you know? Lots of time in her backyard swing, and lots of Scrabble!

[First-class is the BOMB. I will probably never be satisfied with Coach again.]

This week I am making not one, but two bridesmaid dresses. For a wedding THIS SATURDAY. The fabric did not arrive before my trip. So I'm scramblin'.

I probably have much more to say, but no time now! I am chained to the sewing machine!!

by the way, remember the pumpkin shortage I talked about a couple of posts ago? Walmart has pumpkin again, and it's not in the grocery section. It is on an endcap, right by the registers. PUMPKIN! it shouts. 'way cool.

The Great Pumpkin Shortage of 2010

Every year I process two pumpkins, mostly for use in pumpkin bread. I do have three or four ziplocs of frozen pumpkin left in the freezer, which I planned to use up in the next couple of weeks, before putting this year's "harvest" up.

I was reading A Simple Quilter, and she was talking about the canned pumpkin shortage. I would not have noticed until November: although I could use my frozen pumpkin for Thanksgiving pies, my husband prefers canned for that purpose.

Can-you-believe-that-there-is-a-shortage-of-PUMPKIN-of-all-things?

Go ahead and read her blog post, and learn how to process fresh pumpkin. She has pretty pictures that you can follow. I will add one more instruction: I put pumpkin in ziplocs in two-cup measures, because all of my Pumpkin Recipes call for two cups--pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies.

And don't forget to click on the "what canned pumpkin is going for on ebay" link. (in case the link expires, here are a few offerings:

4 cans $23.99
1 can $6.00
5 cans $24.99
3 small cans $17.99
1 can $5.00

no comment...

updateupdateupdate...

Well, usually at the end of August, I post a lot. My birthday is the 29th, and I wax eloquent with some bit of wisdom that you are just waiting to hear, I know.

(I am now 55, and I was born in 1955, so it is sort of my "golden" birthday.)

However, plans for my weekend changed, as my dear sister's husband passed away suddenly on the 28th. She lives 2500 miles away, so I have been on the telephone a lot. Plans are already in place for me to make a trip to see her in October, so we are leaving them in place, and she will have a military ceremony for Joe one day while I am there. I feel so privileged, that she is waiting.

And now I'm doing what I do best under stress: get sick. My tonsils are swollen, and have a few white spots on them. I'm going to try my vitamin C-every-two-hours, and napping whenever possible, to try to stave off a full-blown attack. I must have a little fever though--it has been 92 all week [thus my a/c is not "frosty cold"], and this morning I am shivering in a sweater. Not like me at all.

The other thing I do on September 1st is to break out the Christmas music. This has been going on since I was in high school, making Christmas gifts for all my friends. It is now a family joke, of course. Today's offering is Jackie Gleason's "Merry Christmas" album, ca. 1955 or so.

Well, I am really shivering, so I am going to go to bed. With my wool blankets and a good book. I covet your prayers for my sister and her children...

Just Wonderin'...

Have you ever wondered about cooking sprays, such as Pam? Zero calories per serving. Zero fat as well, as advertised on the label, right? Yet, you look at the ingredients. Besides the propellant to get it out of the can, it is: Vegetable Oil.

Look at your bottle of vegetable oil. 120 calories per tablespoon. Along with 14 g of fat. Love the little note: 120 calories per serving. Calories from fat: 120. (duh)

I found out the little trick. One serving of Pam is a 1/4 second spray. I don't know about you, but I can't even depress the sprayer in 1/4 second. I remember when this product came out, the commercials said, "a two-second spray is all you need." Well, that is eight servings of this product! The problem is, you can't just multiply the one-serving numbers by eight, because you would still get zero. (we learned that in homeschool!)

Now, I use cooking spray. Isn't it a sad commentary that I have to spray my skillet before cooking bacon for heaven's sake? But I won't say it adds no fat to my food. I wish I had a way to measure that 2-second spray in volume. Would it be a tablespoon? I don't think so, much closer to a teaspoon. But that would be 40 calories and 2.67 g of fat, going with the numbers from the oil bottle.

And speaking of bacon, here's a little thing I learned several years ago. The article was about how fat we are still getting, even though we are low-fatted and low-carbed out of our minds, almost. The author's premise was that we have lean-meated ourselves out of hunger-satisfaction. She made my mouth water with her tales of marbling in beef roasts and fat-borders on pork chops. Back in the day (30? 40? years ago?) the average hog rendered sixteen gallons of lard. Today's hog? One ONE. gallon of lard. Back-in-the-day our portion sizes were smaller, as well. We didn't have to eat between meals (tho' if you were like Almanzo Wilder in Farmer Boy, you 'bout died waiting for dinner...) because we were filled up. Our calories weren't empty.

But I digress. I think my point is that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Beware of advertiser's promises. Know the price of what you're buying, but then, if it's worth it, enjoy it, right? If we didn't have fat, we would have yucky skin and lousy hair. If I'm remembering correctly, some hormones need fat, too, to work. Fat is a great storage system. But my storage facility needs some major de-cluttering!

My children are back to school today. I wonder what my days will be like. Last year, Baby Nettie was born in September in great distress. My father was still alive and needed my time, as well. Both of those things are not on the agenda this year.

Do you think I might find a closet or two?

Just Busy. and a Book Review.

I haven't been around the Cottage much lately. My two latest posts were "grabs" from elsewhere. I've been wondering whether I'm even "thinking" about anything anymore.

I finished The Gift of a Year by Mira Kirshenbaum. Let me tell you a little about the concept. I won't be "quoting" from the book, but these ideas are taken from it:

Imagine your life as a wood-burning cookstove. We don't even know how to cook on these anymore. The things you need to cook more slowly go in the back. Got the picture in your mind?

The stuff in the front of the stove is the Urgent Stuff. Your water heater goes out. Your child breaks his arm. A funeral. This is the stuff that takes precedence, no matter what time of day or night--it's going to get done. Right away.

In the middle of your stove is the Important Stuff. Paying bills. Balancing the checkbook. Groceries. Taking kids to lessons. This is stuff that needs to be done on a timely basis, in order for your life to go smoothly. Add to that, your job outside the home, or homeschooling, which take hours and hours every day.

So what's on the back of the stove? All the stuff you've shoved back there "until a later time." All the stuff that you dreamed about when you were young. Piano lessons. Travel. Reading for enrichment. Those things that were so important early in your life, that you've been putting off and putting off, because of the Important and the Urgent stuff.

So eventually, there are more and more pieces of "you" back there. All the stuff that makes you, You. Because, as we know, there will always be more and more Important stuff crowding You out.

But that stuff on the back of the stove is Still Cookin'. Still there, asking for attention. You're still there, behind all those other things. And what happens if you ignore You for too long?

Best case scenario? Fatigue. Desperation (where did that girl go who was going to do [fill in the blank]?" Worst case scenario: It gets so bad that we completely lose sight of ourself and try to get it back by doing something,
anything, just to "feel" something. We maybe start drinking. Or get involved with someone else. We can throw away the most precious things in our life (marriage) just because we haven't taken care of ourselves for too long.

So. The idea of the book is, for a year, to pull one of those pans off the back of the stove and move it to the front. Well, at least to the middle. The book shows you that you *can* find time to do something for yourself. You may have to say "no" to one or two of the other pans in the middle. Or you may take time by going to bed earlier and getting up earlier. You get the picture.

Wouldn't it be so, so cool to be able to do something for yourself for an entire year? Dust off that longing to take art lessons that you've wanted since you were little. Prepare for a trip-of-a-lifetime to Paris. (spend most of your year researching the geography of France, and learning to speak French.) Read an "important" book every month. Learn to sew. Fall in love with your husband all over again by re-courting one another.

The really interesting thing (the author puts in loads and loads of testimonies) is that, for many of us, at the end of the year, not only have we "found" ourselves again, but sometimes we find new directions, new purpose.

Remember that when we are happy and whole, we have a lot more to give to our husband, children, church, and community. "love your neighbor as yourself," but remember to Love Yourself. If we take care of our bodies, we need to take care of our souls as well.

I have my own list of things. How to choose? Well, I decided that I could give myself the gift of a year more than one time. If I have already carved out so many minutes or hours a week for myself, I could just keep going after the year was up, right?

So, get the book from the library. See if it resonates with you. And maybe I'll see you on the journey!

for Pinky Marie.

(thinking about listening to this on the radio in our bedroom with my sweet sister...)

[and, hey, you still need to teach me the Mashed Potato.]