I was thinking about how very untidy life is. My house is untidy, too, but that's not what I am talking about.
My thoughts de jour are spurred on by my singlehood, but they relate to many other aspects of life just as easily.
When I became a Single-Again person, I determined that I would wait for God to drop a man in my lap. What I mean is that I wouldn't go looking, and I would wait to see God work His magic. One day Prince Charming would knock on my door, and the music would swell, and love would bloom.
I was destined to marry the UPS man.
So, it happened! A couple times over the past many years, a man has dropped in my path who has seemed so very ideal. And then it didn't work out.
So, I am asking why it is that God does such things. I never wanted to be divorced in the first place. (God certainly allowed me a doozy of a situation there!) Then, I was perfectly content to wait for Him to deliver Mr Right all gift wrapped to me. (heavy sigh)
But I think I know the reason.
In Pilgrim's Progress, there's this doofus named Christian who sets off for the Celestial City. Have you read this? He wants to go there....he desires what is Good...he strikes out with great intentions, and no real idea of how hard the road will be. He has one thing after another happen as he trudges along. Poor guy! But he sure gets a lot wiser along the way.
And I think there's something to that.
If I'd been happily married for 50 years...
If I'd been "courted" successfully by the first man who came along...
If God kept my expectations met at every turn...
...Just think what a self-righteous prig I'd be.
Cause that's pretty much where I started. I had all the answers.
Then, God worked His magic.
Now I'm getting pretty clear on the fact that I am clueless. I am muddling thorough just like you are. I think I am slower to judge and quicker to love. And that's right where God wants me to be.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow
This is another one of those days when I keep writing and rewriting blogs.I had a great one called "serfs and minions," but it fizzled in the process.
I actually climbed into bed at 6 tonight with a glass of wine and a new issue of WORLD magazine. But I got up again. I managed to stay in bed an hour before I got antsy.
This has been a really long week so far.
I keep straining forward to see what is in the future. I want to hit the button that will advance me one year up, just to see what's coming. Wouldn't that be cool? I live in this constant state of excited expectation. I think that must be why life is so much fun. I shrug off yesterday pretty easily. Is that normal? Maybe it's denial.
It's just that things do change from time to time, and the process is never at all boring. It's a sure bet that if my life is quiet today, someone else will have a story. There's always something new ...And so it goes.
I hope that you are on the edge of your seat, too. Something is going to happen tomorrow...or the next day...And then I will write about it!
I actually climbed into bed at 6 tonight with a glass of wine and a new issue of WORLD magazine. But I got up again. I managed to stay in bed an hour before I got antsy.
This has been a really long week so far.
I keep straining forward to see what is in the future. I want to hit the button that will advance me one year up, just to see what's coming. Wouldn't that be cool? I live in this constant state of excited expectation. I think that must be why life is so much fun. I shrug off yesterday pretty easily. Is that normal? Maybe it's denial.
It's just that things do change from time to time, and the process is never at all boring. It's a sure bet that if my life is quiet today, someone else will have a story. There's always something new ...And so it goes.
I hope that you are on the edge of your seat, too. Something is going to happen tomorrow...or the next day...And then I will write about it!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Competition
I did a spinning class at the gym last night. I hated it.
Is that too strong a word?
"Hate?"
No, I think that is just the right word.
I hate it because I can't do it, and we all know that I am driven to Win. My back was not allowing me to lean over and hang on to those blasted handlebar thingys. My lower back is very sore this morning.
I actually only stayed for about 40 minutes and just sat on the alarmingly uncomfortable seat, pushing the pedals around and around.
Jenine and Denise were brutal. They were amazing. I am in awe of them, and I want to be them.
So my goal this week is to exercise more hours than I did last week. Last week was 10 hours total, and I am on target to complete 11 this week.
It's pretty sad when I can only win by competing against myself!
The drive to compete is a funny thing. We were talking about this at bible study a couple weeks ago.
I want to win, and I compare myself to others. It's not biblical, nor particularly healthy to compare oneself with others. It is quite common, though.
And when it comes to determining whether I am a winner or a loser, I only consider myself "competing" when I am ahead. If I am losing I can tell myself and others that I didn't care in the first place.
It's self deception of the most comforting sort.
I want to be smarter than you and thinner than you and have more friends. Which isn't very nice, because I'm thereby wishing you dumb, fat, and lonely. See what it shapes up to be, when you break it down?
If I wish to be the Most Wonderful Person in your World, then, by necessity, I am wishing you to be less than that. So, comparing myself to you keeps me from being able to love you freely and totally. How can I seek your best, if I am coveting that for myself? If I am loving you and seeking to serve you, then I can't very well want to beat you.
What if we each sought the best for those around us? What if we exalted each other? What if we loved so freely that we gave no thought to winning or losing, only to loving?
That would be very Christ-like.
Although, without competition, I'd never do a spinning class again.
Is that too strong a word?
"Hate?"
No, I think that is just the right word.
I hate it because I can't do it, and we all know that I am driven to Win. My back was not allowing me to lean over and hang on to those blasted handlebar thingys. My lower back is very sore this morning.
I actually only stayed for about 40 minutes and just sat on the alarmingly uncomfortable seat, pushing the pedals around and around.
Jenine and Denise were brutal. They were amazing. I am in awe of them, and I want to be them.
So my goal this week is to exercise more hours than I did last week. Last week was 10 hours total, and I am on target to complete 11 this week.
It's pretty sad when I can only win by competing against myself!
The drive to compete is a funny thing. We were talking about this at bible study a couple weeks ago.
I want to win, and I compare myself to others. It's not biblical, nor particularly healthy to compare oneself with others. It is quite common, though.
And when it comes to determining whether I am a winner or a loser, I only consider myself "competing" when I am ahead. If I am losing I can tell myself and others that I didn't care in the first place.
It's self deception of the most comforting sort.
I want to be smarter than you and thinner than you and have more friends. Which isn't very nice, because I'm thereby wishing you dumb, fat, and lonely. See what it shapes up to be, when you break it down?
If I wish to be the Most Wonderful Person in your World, then, by necessity, I am wishing you to be less than that. So, comparing myself to you keeps me from being able to love you freely and totally. How can I seek your best, if I am coveting that for myself? If I am loving you and seeking to serve you, then I can't very well want to beat you.
What if we each sought the best for those around us? What if we exalted each other? What if we loved so freely that we gave no thought to winning or losing, only to loving?
That would be very Christ-like.
Although, without competition, I'd never do a spinning class again.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Granny's Girl
I went out to brunch today with my Mother and my Grandparents. It was a lovely sunny Sunday morning, and there was good food on the menu.
Mother and Grandpa fell to discussing a variety of lethal medical ailments. The conversation then turned to motor vehicle accidents,and the resulting grisly deaths.
My grandmother and I sought to be polite as possible under the circumstances, but what can one do? We managed to turn the conversation to doilies and the color pink. But it was a brief reprieve.
Shortly after brunch was served they lit upon the topic of Heinous Deaths in the Civil War. Was it from amputations or poor hygiene? Although I thought that we had reached the Ultimate in Unappetizing conversation, I was mistaken. Indeed, it had not occurred to me that The French Revolution had seasoned history with a variety of ways to die. Now I know better.
I am Granny's Girl. I like polite things...Well, mostly.
Growing up, my mother was known to dissect things at the dinner table. Eyeballs. Hearts. Truly! My step-father was an avid hunter, and we would eat wild things. Mother never was one to miss an educational opportunity. So, besides eating liver and tongue, we viewed the innards of the animals as well. I have plucked a goose and a duck for my dinner. How many girls have done that?
I am really not terribly squeamish, but there does seem to be a time and a place for such things.
Mother and Grandpa fell to discussing a variety of lethal medical ailments. The conversation then turned to motor vehicle accidents,and the resulting grisly deaths.
My grandmother and I sought to be polite as possible under the circumstances, but what can one do? We managed to turn the conversation to doilies and the color pink. But it was a brief reprieve.
Shortly after brunch was served they lit upon the topic of Heinous Deaths in the Civil War. Was it from amputations or poor hygiene? Although I thought that we had reached the Ultimate in Unappetizing conversation, I was mistaken. Indeed, it had not occurred to me that The French Revolution had seasoned history with a variety of ways to die. Now I know better.
I am Granny's Girl. I like polite things...Well, mostly.
Growing up, my mother was known to dissect things at the dinner table. Eyeballs. Hearts. Truly! My step-father was an avid hunter, and we would eat wild things. Mother never was one to miss an educational opportunity. So, besides eating liver and tongue, we viewed the innards of the animals as well. I have plucked a goose and a duck for my dinner. How many girls have done that?
I am really not terribly squeamish, but there does seem to be a time and a place for such things.
Friday, September 22, 2006
The Quest for Perfection, (aka a size 6)
There are no women in their 30s. All the other women in the gym this morning were either 20 and firm, or pushing 40. 'Pushing 40" is not the same as being in one's 30s.
The 20-somethings were sweating in tiny boxer shorts and an alma mater tee shirt. They had curled their hair before coming to the gym.
The pushing 40 crowd was sweating in designer gym outfits, color coordinated to best advantage.
I wore mismatched sweats and an old tie-dyed muscle tee. I need to color my roots, and reduce my hips. Which, of course, shows half the reason I was there in the first place.
Now the men in the gym were a different matter. I don't know where the youngsters were, all the men were 50s, 60s, 70s. They were lifting weights and smiling at the 20s. It was very amusing to watch, and it helped to pass the time.
Jenine and I started on the treadmill. We had walked for about 10 minutes (on an incline), and I was feeling particularly righteous, when she smiled and said, "Should we start running now?" As if I had planned to run at all.
So, there we were jogging along. Sucking air. When Denise walks in. Now Denise is the body building Queen. And Jenine's sister. She became our personal trainer de jour.
So, basically I won't be able to move tomorrow.
We stayed on that treadmill for an hour. An HOUR. Who's righteous now, huh? And then we did arms...biceps and triceps....FOR ANOTHER HOUR. I'm not going to be physically able to lift a glass of wine to my lips all weekend.
But I am going to get this old body back into shape. So There!
The 20-somethings were sweating in tiny boxer shorts and an alma mater tee shirt. They had curled their hair before coming to the gym.
The pushing 40 crowd was sweating in designer gym outfits, color coordinated to best advantage.
I wore mismatched sweats and an old tie-dyed muscle tee. I need to color my roots, and reduce my hips. Which, of course, shows half the reason I was there in the first place.
Now the men in the gym were a different matter. I don't know where the youngsters were, all the men were 50s, 60s, 70s. They were lifting weights and smiling at the 20s. It was very amusing to watch, and it helped to pass the time.
Jenine and I started on the treadmill. We had walked for about 10 minutes (on an incline), and I was feeling particularly righteous, when she smiled and said, "Should we start running now?" As if I had planned to run at all.
So, there we were jogging along. Sucking air. When Denise walks in. Now Denise is the body building Queen. And Jenine's sister. She became our personal trainer de jour.
So, basically I won't be able to move tomorrow.
We stayed on that treadmill for an hour. An HOUR. Who's righteous now, huh? And then we did arms...biceps and triceps....FOR ANOTHER HOUR. I'm not going to be physically able to lift a glass of wine to my lips all weekend.
But I am going to get this old body back into shape. So There!
Friday morning
All of y'all are crazy. I mean that in the nicest possible way.
If you are reading this and you are not in the habit of reading the comments, start now. They are way funnier than the show.
The coffee's on. It's Friday.
I forgot to take the trash out again. That's annoying. I could run out in my flannel pajamas right now and drag it down to the curb.
Who thinks that will happen?
The garbage trucks used to come after 9 on Friday mornings. In those days I could get up, have coffee, poke around the house, and then remember that it was trash day. But not anymore! Now I have to take it to the curb on Thursday evening if I'm gonna do it, because these industrious men come around between 6 and 7 in the morning! If my alarm doesn't wake me on Fridays, I bolt out of bed at the crash and bang of the garbage truck slamming the neighbor's cans around. Then it's too late and I climb back into bed anxious and angry.
That is no way to wake up on a Friday.
On Friday, you should wake up happy.
Praise be to the Most High, the weekend is upon us! (and the angels sing)
The only thing bad about the weekends, is that they precede another week.
But I won't think about that now.
Today I am going to the gym with my sweet friend and cousin, Jenine. We hardly ever get together anymore, but we used to be inseparable. I am very excited to spend some time with her!
Friendships are funny that way. I was just chatting with Celise about this last night. The people that I see frequently, are the people that have kids my boys play with... And women who train in martial arts with me, or come to bible study.
You know, women who run in the same circle. (I just re-read that line and chuckled because I really do run in circles!)
Like Patsy, she used to live on the same street and our kids loved to play together. Then she moved a few miles and the kids got older...and BAM...I never see her. It's odd.
When I am 50 and my kids have lives of their own, it will be interesting to see what my friendships look like.
Kara and I will still be in the same bible study, with a room full of new women. We'll be asking one another "Where did all the old group go?"
And then we'll wear gold lame on that cruise.
If you are reading this and you are not in the habit of reading the comments, start now. They are way funnier than the show.
The coffee's on. It's Friday.
I forgot to take the trash out again. That's annoying. I could run out in my flannel pajamas right now and drag it down to the curb.
Who thinks that will happen?
The garbage trucks used to come after 9 on Friday mornings. In those days I could get up, have coffee, poke around the house, and then remember that it was trash day. But not anymore! Now I have to take it to the curb on Thursday evening if I'm gonna do it, because these industrious men come around between 6 and 7 in the morning! If my alarm doesn't wake me on Fridays, I bolt out of bed at the crash and bang of the garbage truck slamming the neighbor's cans around. Then it's too late and I climb back into bed anxious and angry.
That is no way to wake up on a Friday.
On Friday, you should wake up happy.
Praise be to the Most High, the weekend is upon us! (and the angels sing)
The only thing bad about the weekends, is that they precede another week.
But I won't think about that now.
Today I am going to the gym with my sweet friend and cousin, Jenine. We hardly ever get together anymore, but we used to be inseparable. I am very excited to spend some time with her!
Friendships are funny that way. I was just chatting with Celise about this last night. The people that I see frequently, are the people that have kids my boys play with... And women who train in martial arts with me, or come to bible study.
You know, women who run in the same circle. (I just re-read that line and chuckled because I really do run in circles!)
Like Patsy, she used to live on the same street and our kids loved to play together. Then she moved a few miles and the kids got older...and BAM...I never see her. It's odd.
When I am 50 and my kids have lives of their own, it will be interesting to see what my friendships look like.
Kara and I will still be in the same bible study, with a room full of new women. We'll be asking one another "Where did all the old group go?"
And then we'll wear gold lame on that cruise.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Secret Magic
I love the early morning hours. It is my habit to get up before everyone else so that I can enjoy some time with the Lord before the day sweeps me away. That, and so I can have time in blogland.This morning I have a house full already. Two of the boys I watch arrived at 6. I put them back to bed. Another boy I watch arrived at 6:30. I put him back to bed, too. So, here I sit, getting paid to have children sleeping peacefully in my house. This is one of those moments when I love my little job. Once they wake up, it will be an entirely different matter! The house will be noisy and everyone will need something from me. Ah, Motherhood.Is it true that all women turn into their mothers? I was wondering about that. I haven't told you about Ryan in a long time. You should keep praying for that boy. Remember him? He's still ill. No kidding. He will be on antibiotics for months, and he's constantly in pain. It's awful.
I am reading this book about dating. I am going to write one on that topic someday. It will be either really funny, or deeply depressing. I can't make up my mind.
This book I am reading is dealing with compatibility issues. It gives the Magic Formula for finding a suitable life partner in, like, 12 hours or less.
It takes speed dating to new levels.
Lots of the information makes really good sense. It's good stuff to think about. It also makes me wonder how our Grandparents ever managed to stay married. The didn't have the Magic Formula.
So, I think, how ought this to impact me?
Do I employ the Secret Magic?
Or do I simply mold myself to a man I love and just commit to him for the rest of my life?
How important are the Components of Compatibility? I am pretty sure I am not compatible with my kids, yet we live in harmony. It's a whole love/commitment thing.
It's safe to say that I am way more afraid of getting into a bad marriage than of staying single forever. I like being single. I hate being in a bad marriage.
I think I would really like being in a good marriage. That could be fun.
I think I am over thinking this. Chuck once told me that there is seemingly no problem I can't over-think. Hmmmm....he may have something there.
Celise told me that I should, like, relax.
Kjp told me to buy chocolate.Look at me rambling again.
I am reading this book about dating. I am going to write one on that topic someday. It will be either really funny, or deeply depressing. I can't make up my mind.
This book I am reading is dealing with compatibility issues. It gives the Magic Formula for finding a suitable life partner in, like, 12 hours or less.
It takes speed dating to new levels.
Lots of the information makes really good sense. It's good stuff to think about. It also makes me wonder how our Grandparents ever managed to stay married. The didn't have the Magic Formula.
So, I think, how ought this to impact me?
Do I employ the Secret Magic?
Or do I simply mold myself to a man I love and just commit to him for the rest of my life?
How important are the Components of Compatibility? I am pretty sure I am not compatible with my kids, yet we live in harmony. It's a whole love/commitment thing.
It's safe to say that I am way more afraid of getting into a bad marriage than of staying single forever. I like being single. I hate being in a bad marriage.
I think I would really like being in a good marriage. That could be fun.
I think I am over thinking this. Chuck once told me that there is seemingly no problem I can't over-think. Hmmmm....he may have something there.
Celise told me that I should, like, relax.
Kjp told me to buy chocolate.Look at me rambling again.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
My new dream
It is my hypothesis that all comments on blog sites such as this are totally random. There's this one blog I like to read that gets hundreds of comments each day.
Hundreds!
Isn't that crazy? Who ever heard of such a thing?
Apparently advertising people have.
This gal supports her family by writing nonsense every couple of days.
This is my new plan.
I am going to make my fortune once you all read my blog faithfully. I was thinking of all the advertising space I could sell.
Who would advertise on my blog? Home school groups, Churches, Wineries, Martial arts studios, Millionaire dating services, Swiss chocolate factories. It would be great.
Then other blog sites could pay me to put their links on my site so they could share in the love.
Ah, yes. I have always been a dreamer. But it could happen!
Hundreds!
Isn't that crazy? Who ever heard of such a thing?
Apparently advertising people have.
This gal supports her family by writing nonsense every couple of days.
This is my new plan.
I am going to make my fortune once you all read my blog faithfully. I was thinking of all the advertising space I could sell.
Who would advertise on my blog? Home school groups, Churches, Wineries, Martial arts studios, Millionaire dating services, Swiss chocolate factories. It would be great.
Then other blog sites could pay me to put their links on my site so they could share in the love.
Ah, yes. I have always been a dreamer. But it could happen!
Tuesday in blogland
You know I'm falling down on the job when the comments are more interesting than the bogging!
The boys are off doing some independent studies and I have a moment to write to you all out there in blogland.
I am on the New Me kick. I have been going to bed earlier and getting up earlier. That's not so much 'new me', as focusing on what works best for me. I have been exercising and energetic and stuff. It feels wonderful.
I haven't talked to many people, which means that I have a lack of material to turn into humor. It's because I am being Responsible.
This week, though, my grandparents will be in town, and that should give me lots to write about. My grandparents are the Most Wonderful people on Earth. They have impacted my life more than anyone outside of my parents. We laugh a ton when they are around. My family is mostly female, so you should pray for Grandpa and my sons. We all talk a lot. And all at once. It's very noisy.
Today, I have children to educate, kung fu to teach, bible study tonight, and a house to clean. If I get a shower at all, I'll be very happy.
Happy Tuesday friends!
The boys are off doing some independent studies and I have a moment to write to you all out there in blogland.
I am on the New Me kick. I have been going to bed earlier and getting up earlier. That's not so much 'new me', as focusing on what works best for me. I have been exercising and energetic and stuff. It feels wonderful.
I haven't talked to many people, which means that I have a lack of material to turn into humor. It's because I am being Responsible.
This week, though, my grandparents will be in town, and that should give me lots to write about. My grandparents are the Most Wonderful people on Earth. They have impacted my life more than anyone outside of my parents. We laugh a ton when they are around. My family is mostly female, so you should pray for Grandpa and my sons. We all talk a lot. And all at once. It's very noisy.
Today, I have children to educate, kung fu to teach, bible study tonight, and a house to clean. If I get a shower at all, I'll be very happy.
Happy Tuesday friends!
Monday, September 18, 2006
pondering
So I am re-evaluating my life from the inside out. It's a good time to do it.
I have finally decided to take off some weight, so I am eating carefully, and I am going back to the gym. I'm not fat yet, but I sure am not in the kind of shape I like to be in. I am very mindful that my black belt test is about 8 months away. If I am not in the best shape of my life for that, I will suffer unnecessarily. Like, it will kill me.
There's more than weight to it. I need to refocus my parenting strategies as these boys get older. I have all these goals written out for them, and I have to look at that from time to time to stay on course.
Plus, it's a change of season. In more ways than one!
I wonder if I should focus on being single and not think about men for a while. Or if I should really meet people with an eye toward marrying again. Should I call Donald Miller? Or write my own book?
Skiing is in my future.
The holidays are coming.
It's school time.
The leaves are changing.
Who knows what could be right around the corner? Change is in the wind....
Maybe I should buy that lottery ticket!
I have finally decided to take off some weight, so I am eating carefully, and I am going back to the gym. I'm not fat yet, but I sure am not in the kind of shape I like to be in. I am very mindful that my black belt test is about 8 months away. If I am not in the best shape of my life for that, I will suffer unnecessarily. Like, it will kill me.
There's more than weight to it. I need to refocus my parenting strategies as these boys get older. I have all these goals written out for them, and I have to look at that from time to time to stay on course.
Plus, it's a change of season. In more ways than one!
I wonder if I should focus on being single and not think about men for a while. Or if I should really meet people with an eye toward marrying again. Should I call Donald Miller? Or write my own book?
Skiing is in my future.
The holidays are coming.
It's school time.
The leaves are changing.
Who knows what could be right around the corner? Change is in the wind....
Maybe I should buy that lottery ticket!
Saturday, September 16, 2006
hmmmm....
I go through phases. Sometimes I am blogging constantly in my head, and actually publishing quite a bit.
Other times, I don't feel like sharing all the stuff in my head with the world.
Now is one of those other times.
There's just too much serious stuff in my head right now. Putting things down on paper always seems to trivialize or mock at situations. That, or writing can lay things bare. There are some things that ought to be kept close. Private.
There's so much to life.
It's odd to me how joy and grief so often go hand-in-hand.
Humor and tears.
Folly and wisdom.
It's a challenge, I think, to settle into the one while experiencing the other.
Other times, I don't feel like sharing all the stuff in my head with the world.
Now is one of those other times.
There's just too much serious stuff in my head right now. Putting things down on paper always seems to trivialize or mock at situations. That, or writing can lay things bare. There are some things that ought to be kept close. Private.
There's so much to life.
It's odd to me how joy and grief so often go hand-in-hand.
Humor and tears.
Folly and wisdom.
It's a challenge, I think, to settle into the one while experiencing the other.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
A public service announcement
It was shortly after midnight when I was awakened. No clue as to why. But I was warm and needed a drink. As so often happens upon being awakened in the night, my mind began racing.
I hate that.
Finally, a while later, as I was drifting into a lovely calm, I heard a shrill chirp. This could only be one thing.
The smoke detector.
These things can save your life. I know this. But they require some maintenance, and that's what husbands are for. As we all know, I have no husband.
So, I did what any woman would do. I ignored it.
I decided that I could probably sleep in between chirps, since they seemed to be coming every 30 minutes or so. I was timing them like contractions.
But I couldn't get back to sleep knowing that another chirp was coming.
I was anxious.
Waiting.
Annoyed.
About 2 am, I threw back the covers and stomped to the garage in my PJs to get the ladder. I have some kind of a cathedral ceiling in my room that reaches the stars. The idiot who hung the smoke detector put it on the highest point. You can hardly see it from the ground. It's like a speck way up there.
A chirping speck.
In my dizzy 2 am state, I had to totter on the top of an unsteady ladder. My only reassurance was that falling would land me back into my bed. I changed the battery.
Let this be a lesson to you. Go change those batteries today, if you can't remember the last time you did so.
I hate that.
Finally, a while later, as I was drifting into a lovely calm, I heard a shrill chirp. This could only be one thing.
The smoke detector.
These things can save your life. I know this. But they require some maintenance, and that's what husbands are for. As we all know, I have no husband.
So, I did what any woman would do. I ignored it.
I decided that I could probably sleep in between chirps, since they seemed to be coming every 30 minutes or so. I was timing them like contractions.
But I couldn't get back to sleep knowing that another chirp was coming.
I was anxious.
Waiting.
Annoyed.
About 2 am, I threw back the covers and stomped to the garage in my PJs to get the ladder. I have some kind of a cathedral ceiling in my room that reaches the stars. The idiot who hung the smoke detector put it on the highest point. You can hardly see it from the ground. It's like a speck way up there.
A chirping speck.
In my dizzy 2 am state, I had to totter on the top of an unsteady ladder. My only reassurance was that falling would land me back into my bed. I changed the battery.
Let this be a lesson to you. Go change those batteries today, if you can't remember the last time you did so.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
It's the Malbec
Malbec is a wine made on the South Western hemisphere of our planet. It's the ideal accompaniment for very old friendships.
I had dinner with Mother tonight. Joining us at table were Yvonne, Kara, and Krista. Yvonne you know from the rich and varied comments that she has graced this blog with. Kara appears here,too, from time to time. Krista is a 4 foot 11" East Coast girl who's been trapped on an island in the South pacific for some time. Krista is Kara's sister and Yvonne's eldest daughter.
We ate on the patio of my favorite restaurant. Unfortunately this was the evening for a live band to play. Are you familiar with a genre called "blue grass"? Yeah. Only in Idaho,,,or possibly the backwoods of Mississippi. They sang this one song about a near-death experience for a prostitute, and her blood-stained bible. It was hardly a dinner ballad.
But the dinner was really good.
And the conversation was wonderful.
There are not that many people with whom one has 30+years of memories. We have that, though. Our lives have paralleled and intersected, either through direct interaction or through family whisperings for more than three decades. You can't turn your back for a moment on people like that.
Mother drinks wine from a box now and then. This was discussed and length and the source of much hilarity. I was elected to chose the wine, thus the Malbec.
Krista is a wine snob like me. Plus she's really funny. She pulled out her wallet to show off photos. Of herself. We laughed so hard we couldn't draw breath. I don't think she saw the humor in it.
Kara and I are trying to get our mothers to take us to Europe with them when they go. They aren't convinced. Kara and I have it all figured out. It would involve them paying for us.
My Mother is convinced that she's shy and mellow. A fact easily refuted by two seconds in her company. This was another source of uproarious hilarity.
There was lots of funny stuff. A few sad moments. Stories. History.
We all told stories, and laughed, and amused ourselves fairly well. My abdominal muscles are sore from the experience.
Some family can only be gained through time.
We're family.
And I love these women.
I had dinner with Mother tonight. Joining us at table were Yvonne, Kara, and Krista. Yvonne you know from the rich and varied comments that she has graced this blog with. Kara appears here,too, from time to time. Krista is a 4 foot 11" East Coast girl who's been trapped on an island in the South pacific for some time. Krista is Kara's sister and Yvonne's eldest daughter.
We ate on the patio of my favorite restaurant. Unfortunately this was the evening for a live band to play. Are you familiar with a genre called "blue grass"? Yeah. Only in Idaho,,,or possibly the backwoods of Mississippi. They sang this one song about a near-death experience for a prostitute, and her blood-stained bible. It was hardly a dinner ballad.
But the dinner was really good.
And the conversation was wonderful.
There are not that many people with whom one has 30+years of memories. We have that, though. Our lives have paralleled and intersected, either through direct interaction or through family whisperings for more than three decades. You can't turn your back for a moment on people like that.
Mother drinks wine from a box now and then. This was discussed and length and the source of much hilarity. I was elected to chose the wine, thus the Malbec.
Krista is a wine snob like me. Plus she's really funny. She pulled out her wallet to show off photos. Of herself. We laughed so hard we couldn't draw breath. I don't think she saw the humor in it.
Kara and I are trying to get our mothers to take us to Europe with them when they go. They aren't convinced. Kara and I have it all figured out. It would involve them paying for us.
My Mother is convinced that she's shy and mellow. A fact easily refuted by two seconds in her company. This was another source of uproarious hilarity.
There was lots of funny stuff. A few sad moments. Stories. History.
We all told stories, and laughed, and amused ourselves fairly well. My abdominal muscles are sore from the experience.
Some family can only be gained through time.
We're family.
And I love these women.
A love/hate thing
It's Wednesday, week 3 of the new school year. I can't remember why I homeschool.
Is it so that I can be sedentary all day?
Is it so that I can watch the house fall below OSHA standards while I teach the same phonics lesson... Again?
Is it so that I can assume total responsibility for my children's future?
Is it so I'll have no time to shower or exercise?
Yeah, I know it's not funny, unless you home educate, too. If you are a fellow home educator, then it's downright hysterical. You're probably sucking your thumb in the fetal position, as I am.
I know, I know. I told you that I love to homeschool. I do.
It's just that it's a lot to ask of one person. It's like a full time job, that I work at the same time I am working my other full time job. Something has to suffer. For me it's housework and my social life. And physical fitness. And yard work. And romance.
Ok, this is getting depressing.
I love to homeschool
I love to homeschool....
Alright, I don't love it today.
But sometimes I love it.
I love it when I get to watch my boys learn something new and thrilling. I can see the gears turning behind their eyes.
I love it when we can do school in our pajamas. Or in bed.
I love it when we get off on tangents about stuff like ancient Egypt and we get lost in history for hours.
I love it when the boys make comments about Shakespeare in public. Or when they say something to me in Latin, just because they can.
I love that I know my boys really well from spending so much time with them all these years. We've never spent 8 hours apart on a regular basis.
I love that they know me and are attuned to my idiosyncrasies.
Ok, see? I do love to homeschool.
Is it so that I can be sedentary all day?
Is it so that I can watch the house fall below OSHA standards while I teach the same phonics lesson... Again?
Is it so that I can assume total responsibility for my children's future?
Is it so I'll have no time to shower or exercise?
Yeah, I know it's not funny, unless you home educate, too. If you are a fellow home educator, then it's downright hysterical. You're probably sucking your thumb in the fetal position, as I am.
I know, I know. I told you that I love to homeschool. I do.
It's just that it's a lot to ask of one person. It's like a full time job, that I work at the same time I am working my other full time job. Something has to suffer. For me it's housework and my social life. And physical fitness. And yard work. And romance.
Ok, this is getting depressing.
I love to homeschool
I love to homeschool....
Alright, I don't love it today.
But sometimes I love it.
I love it when I get to watch my boys learn something new and thrilling. I can see the gears turning behind their eyes.
I love it when we can do school in our pajamas. Or in bed.
I love it when we get off on tangents about stuff like ancient Egypt and we get lost in history for hours.
I love it when the boys make comments about Shakespeare in public. Or when they say something to me in Latin, just because they can.
I love that I know my boys really well from spending so much time with them all these years. We've never spent 8 hours apart on a regular basis.
I love that they know me and are attuned to my idiosyncrasies.
Ok, see? I do love to homeschool.
Monday, September 11, 2006
On Why I Shouldn't Watch Movies
The Princess Bride is the best movie in the world.
Obviously, I mean no disrespect to Aragorn and the Lord of the Rings movies, I love them, too.
Well, there's also The Scarlet Pimpernel.
O, I am just realizing something about the heroes in these movies! Besides the fact that I am in love with the 3, there is another common factor. Each of them is a sword-wielding super hero. And they wear disguises. I love costumes!
Wesley isn't handsome in the movie, but he is very brave and loyal. And very quotable. The book really makes him way more handsome.
Aragorn! What is there to say? Never was there a better personification of all things manly and romantic. I want to marry him.
Percy is just a bad name for a super hero. It works, though, in the movie. You should read that book, too. There's this one scene where he kisses the ground where his Love's feet have tread. They didn't put that in the movie, which was a shame.
I want a man who is brave and honorable.
Someone who will never lie to protect himself.
Someone who is wise with money.
Who loves Jesus deeply.
Super Intellectual. Purposeful.
Strong and not afraid of a fight.
Place a high value on family.
Stuff like that...my list is evolving.
The more I think about it, the less I think I am willing to compromise. I want Zorro. Aragorn. Is it silly to think like that?
Of course, these men are looking for Buttercup, Arwen, and so forth. I should loose some weight and brush up on my French! But, I do have long hair. That counts, right? Sword-wielding super heroes like long hair.
Obviously, I mean no disrespect to Aragorn and the Lord of the Rings movies, I love them, too.
Well, there's also The Scarlet Pimpernel.
O, I am just realizing something about the heroes in these movies! Besides the fact that I am in love with the 3, there is another common factor. Each of them is a sword-wielding super hero. And they wear disguises. I love costumes!
Wesley isn't handsome in the movie, but he is very brave and loyal. And very quotable. The book really makes him way more handsome.
Aragorn! What is there to say? Never was there a better personification of all things manly and romantic. I want to marry him.
Percy is just a bad name for a super hero. It works, though, in the movie. You should read that book, too. There's this one scene where he kisses the ground where his Love's feet have tread. They didn't put that in the movie, which was a shame.
I want a man who is brave and honorable.
Someone who will never lie to protect himself.
Someone who is wise with money.
Who loves Jesus deeply.
Super Intellectual. Purposeful.
Strong and not afraid of a fight.
Place a high value on family.
Stuff like that...my list is evolving.
The more I think about it, the less I think I am willing to compromise. I want Zorro. Aragorn. Is it silly to think like that?
Of course, these men are looking for Buttercup, Arwen, and so forth. I should loose some weight and brush up on my French! But, I do have long hair. That counts, right? Sword-wielding super heroes like long hair.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
The Auction
I am a little tired.
Actually, that's lie.
I am beyond exhausted.
On Saturday, we left for the auction at 8:30 a.m. without eating breakfast. We were there all day in the sweltering heat whilst vultures scraped and picked through my step-grandmother's estate. We fought back tears, and lost. We bid stubbornly, and won.
My sweet sisters begged their uncle for grandmother's china before the sale began.
"Please," they sobbed.
"No. You can bid with the public." Was the Evil man's reply. (Justifiable homicide, anyone?)
"Isn't this fun!?" his wife beamed.
I am really not making this up. It was aweful.
The public we had to bid against was mostly quite wonderful. These people figured out that the tenacious bidders in the front row were the granddaughters.
"Weren't you allowed to choose something before the sale?" They all asked.
"Not a thing. The executor, our beloved uncle (who wasn't man enough to stay for the sale) felt that his children and nieces should spend their money to fill his coffers. Fortunately we're not bitter."
Most people refused to bid when one of us wanted something. I was so blown away to see such kindness from strangers. Too bad our Uncle didn't stick around to see that part. He might have learned a valuable lesson.
Anyway, I brought home a handmade down comforter that she made herself, a Victorian ladies chair from her bedroom, a steamer trunk, and a really stunning lamp. Plus some books.
My sisters and my cousin spent a tiny bit more than I did. We took the U-haul back today and loaded up.
So, now that the weekend is over... I still haven't had a day of rest.
I have....
driven a large truck for a couple hundred miles,
spent money I don't have,
seen the worst of my step-uncle
and the best of my step-family.
I have spent hours with my sisters, and my precious cousin,
and acquired heirlooms,
and cried
and laughed.
Now....I soooo need some sleep.
Actually, that's lie.
I am beyond exhausted.
On Saturday, we left for the auction at 8:30 a.m. without eating breakfast. We were there all day in the sweltering heat whilst vultures scraped and picked through my step-grandmother's estate. We fought back tears, and lost. We bid stubbornly, and won.
My sweet sisters begged their uncle for grandmother's china before the sale began.
"Please," they sobbed.
"No. You can bid with the public." Was the Evil man's reply. (Justifiable homicide, anyone?)
"Isn't this fun!?" his wife beamed.
I am really not making this up. It was aweful.
The public we had to bid against was mostly quite wonderful. These people figured out that the tenacious bidders in the front row were the granddaughters.
"Weren't you allowed to choose something before the sale?" They all asked.
"Not a thing. The executor, our beloved uncle (who wasn't man enough to stay for the sale) felt that his children and nieces should spend their money to fill his coffers. Fortunately we're not bitter."
Most people refused to bid when one of us wanted something. I was so blown away to see such kindness from strangers. Too bad our Uncle didn't stick around to see that part. He might have learned a valuable lesson.
Anyway, I brought home a handmade down comforter that she made herself, a Victorian ladies chair from her bedroom, a steamer trunk, and a really stunning lamp. Plus some books.
My sisters and my cousin spent a tiny bit more than I did. We took the U-haul back today and loaded up.
So, now that the weekend is over... I still haven't had a day of rest.
I have....
driven a large truck for a couple hundred miles,
spent money I don't have,
seen the worst of my step-uncle
and the best of my step-family.
I have spent hours with my sisters, and my precious cousin,
and acquired heirlooms,
and cried
and laughed.
Now....I soooo need some sleep.
Friday, September 08, 2006
My new Cell Phone
I bought a new cell phone.
My old one was wonderful and I loved it. It wasn't a camera, a camcorder, or an MP3. It had a few ringtones to choose from and a black and white display.It was very user friendly. But, alas, it has died.
My new one is like the updated version of the same thing. Kind of like getting the latest Toyota Camry. And it has Everything.
It can talk to me, sing to me, photograph me, and charge me extra for random services I didn't know I could access. It's very intimidating.
I got a great deal.
As a Poverty Stricken Welfare Mom (P.S.W.M.), you would think that I should take the free phone. And I might have, only this was very nearly cheaper. I called the customer service people and asked for a manager... and then I begged. I got the coolest thing going for $24.99.
But, I have no idea how to use it.
First of all, the screen that you start with has nine different icons on it that represent the service you will find if you click on it. It's bright colors dazzled me to the point of confusion. It took me a solid hour to figure out that actual words appeared at the top of the screen each time I scrolled over an icon. These words were far more helpful than the bright pictures, because they told me what each icon would do.
Once I figured that out, I set about to personalize the way it rings. The powers-that-be have given this Super-dupper phone only one ringtone. It's excruciating. Shrill. Painful. That way, I, and those within earshot, will desire that I purchase a designer ringtone immediately.
There's wallpaper, too. That's the calming picture that acts as a sort of screensaver. This was brilliance on the part of the designer. There are about 5 options for this feature, and all of them are soothing and peaceful. That is the only way to keep me from throwing the blasted thing every time it rings.
I was going to cancel my service to be frugal. I really was. But I thought a bit about the Value of applying my Rationalization Skills, and I came up with these reasons to keep cell phone service:
1. The parents of children I watch need to be able to reach me at all times. This makes it a business expense.
2. My children need to be able to reach me when I leave them at home alone. This makes it a safety issue.
3. My car could break down, or I could be running late. This would be a convenience issue, but I figured it would count.
...........What do you think? These convinced me to keep the thing going.
So, now, when you call me, you can expect that the irritation in my voice is due to that annoying ringtone and not to finding you on the other end on the line.
I am accepting donations for the "Buy Kelly a Ringtone" fund.
My old one was wonderful and I loved it. It wasn't a camera, a camcorder, or an MP3. It had a few ringtones to choose from and a black and white display.It was very user friendly. But, alas, it has died.
My new one is like the updated version of the same thing. Kind of like getting the latest Toyota Camry. And it has Everything.
It can talk to me, sing to me, photograph me, and charge me extra for random services I didn't know I could access. It's very intimidating.
I got a great deal.
As a Poverty Stricken Welfare Mom (P.S.W.M.), you would think that I should take the free phone. And I might have, only this was very nearly cheaper. I called the customer service people and asked for a manager... and then I begged. I got the coolest thing going for $24.99.
But, I have no idea how to use it.
First of all, the screen that you start with has nine different icons on it that represent the service you will find if you click on it. It's bright colors dazzled me to the point of confusion. It took me a solid hour to figure out that actual words appeared at the top of the screen each time I scrolled over an icon. These words were far more helpful than the bright pictures, because they told me what each icon would do.
Once I figured that out, I set about to personalize the way it rings. The powers-that-be have given this Super-dupper phone only one ringtone. It's excruciating. Shrill. Painful. That way, I, and those within earshot, will desire that I purchase a designer ringtone immediately.
There's wallpaper, too. That's the calming picture that acts as a sort of screensaver. This was brilliance on the part of the designer. There are about 5 options for this feature, and all of them are soothing and peaceful. That is the only way to keep me from throwing the blasted thing every time it rings.
I was going to cancel my service to be frugal. I really was. But I thought a bit about the Value of applying my Rationalization Skills, and I came up with these reasons to keep cell phone service:
1. The parents of children I watch need to be able to reach me at all times. This makes it a business expense.
2. My children need to be able to reach me when I leave them at home alone. This makes it a safety issue.
3. My car could break down, or I could be running late. This would be a convenience issue, but I figured it would count.
...........What do you think? These convinced me to keep the thing going.
So, now, when you call me, you can expect that the irritation in my voice is due to that annoying ringtone and not to finding you on the other end on the line.
I am accepting donations for the "Buy Kelly a Ringtone" fund.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Sentimental Value
I was thinking about death again. I do a lot of that, for as cheery as I am.
Well, I have this family orchard. It's too fragmented to be a family tree.
My step-grandmother died a few months ago, and it was deeply sad, as these things are. We had that whole side of that family together for a couple days, and that was very fun, as these things also can be.
Anyway, there are some elements of grief that are common to all such occurrences. Stuff like people doubting one another's motives, lots of hurt feelings, bad people acting worse, good people caught off guard.
I think this stuff always happens because grief is so personal. When my step-mother died, for instance, I was the only living step-daughter she had. No one else on the planet had the same relationship or experiences with her as I did. Because relationships are so unique, then so is the experience of grief. No one else truly understands, so it's a lonely process. It's no wonder that such a blow should bring out the worst in people. Or, the best, I suppose. It's the bad stuff that tends to stand out, though.
Just in case you are wondering; my sister died, my step mother-died, my step-father died, several grandparents have died, one disappeared, and there's more. Those are the really close ones.
When you consider that the mortality rate of the human race is close to 100%, it's really not too surprising. My mother always says that, "Everyone you know will either die before you or after you." But we do seem to do it big in my family. Are you glad you're not related?
Anyway, all of Grandma's belongings are about to be auctioned off. The Executor of the Estate feels that this is the fairest way to distribute her goods. The grand kids are appalled. Nobody gets to chose the items of Sentimental Value to cherish before the public auction. We all get to bid. So, I am going shopping amongst the family heirlooms this weekend. It just makes me ill.
And yet..
How thankful I am that each of the grandkids has bits of my step- Grandmother that no one can take. Her story, my memories, shared experiences. These can't be auctioned at any price.
O, to live in such a way that all the Value of my Estate is in the Sentiments of those I have loved!!
How sad it would be to die and leave no Sentimental Value, rather only distribution of Wealth.
Well, I have this family orchard. It's too fragmented to be a family tree.
My step-grandmother died a few months ago, and it was deeply sad, as these things are. We had that whole side of that family together for a couple days, and that was very fun, as these things also can be.
Anyway, there are some elements of grief that are common to all such occurrences. Stuff like people doubting one another's motives, lots of hurt feelings, bad people acting worse, good people caught off guard.
I think this stuff always happens because grief is so personal. When my step-mother died, for instance, I was the only living step-daughter she had. No one else on the planet had the same relationship or experiences with her as I did. Because relationships are so unique, then so is the experience of grief. No one else truly understands, so it's a lonely process. It's no wonder that such a blow should bring out the worst in people. Or, the best, I suppose. It's the bad stuff that tends to stand out, though.
Just in case you are wondering; my sister died, my step mother-died, my step-father died, several grandparents have died, one disappeared, and there's more. Those are the really close ones.
When you consider that the mortality rate of the human race is close to 100%, it's really not too surprising. My mother always says that, "Everyone you know will either die before you or after you." But we do seem to do it big in my family. Are you glad you're not related?
Anyway, all of Grandma's belongings are about to be auctioned off. The Executor of the Estate feels that this is the fairest way to distribute her goods. The grand kids are appalled. Nobody gets to chose the items of Sentimental Value to cherish before the public auction. We all get to bid. So, I am going shopping amongst the family heirlooms this weekend. It just makes me ill.
And yet..
How thankful I am that each of the grandkids has bits of my step- Grandmother that no one can take. Her story, my memories, shared experiences. These can't be auctioned at any price.
O, to live in such a way that all the Value of my Estate is in the Sentiments of those I have loved!!
How sad it would be to die and leave no Sentimental Value, rather only distribution of Wealth.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
The center of attention
Last night I got to help teach a women's self-defense seminar at a local real estate office. Actually, the real extent of my usefulness was being a practice dummy. That, and throwing out random comments to get a laugh.
I had a blast.
I was the comic relief. Of course, that may only be that they had never heard my slim repertoire of jokes before. Plus, the instructor was talking about invaders breaking in and rape and theft and death. Any joke can get a laugh against that backdrop.
More than nearly anything else, I love to be in front of people.
If I could get a job doing public speaking, I would be positively gleeful.
You should hire me to come and speak on something.
Some people get all freaked out when they have to get in front of a few people.
I get euphoric.
It's like something switches, and I am fully alive.
It's very fun.
Sometimes, When I am talking to a cashier at the grocery store, and I am overcome by my Public Speaking Persona... My PSP... I crescendo into an oration, and their eyes get all glassed over. And that's when I see that they can't really appreciate my brilliance.
It's very sad.
So, I walk away and wonder why I am not being sought after to speak at international conventions.
The U.N. and stuff like that.
It seems cruel that Al Gore gets paid to talk about stuff he knows nothing about, and I don't. I used to live in a white house, too. Does he have more credentials than that? Oh, yeah...Cause I had a hand in creating the Internet, too. Really.
Of course, If I really did win International acclaim for my Towering Intellect/Stunning Beauty/ and PSP, I would probably be all freaked out about trying to please everybody. That's right near the top of my short-comings list.
But that's a blog for another day.
I had a blast.
I was the comic relief. Of course, that may only be that they had never heard my slim repertoire of jokes before. Plus, the instructor was talking about invaders breaking in and rape and theft and death. Any joke can get a laugh against that backdrop.
More than nearly anything else, I love to be in front of people.
If I could get a job doing public speaking, I would be positively gleeful.
You should hire me to come and speak on something.
Some people get all freaked out when they have to get in front of a few people.
I get euphoric.
It's like something switches, and I am fully alive.
It's very fun.
Sometimes, When I am talking to a cashier at the grocery store, and I am overcome by my Public Speaking Persona... My PSP... I crescendo into an oration, and their eyes get all glassed over. And that's when I see that they can't really appreciate my brilliance.
It's very sad.
So, I walk away and wonder why I am not being sought after to speak at international conventions.
The U.N. and stuff like that.
It seems cruel that Al Gore gets paid to talk about stuff he knows nothing about, and I don't. I used to live in a white house, too. Does he have more credentials than that? Oh, yeah...Cause I had a hand in creating the Internet, too. Really.
Of course, If I really did win International acclaim for my Towering Intellect/Stunning Beauty/ and PSP, I would probably be all freaked out about trying to please everybody. That's right near the top of my short-comings list.
But that's a blog for another day.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Temperance
If you ever come to see me, I hope you will bring wine.
I love wine.
Someday I am going to be really good at being a wine snob.
Even Jesus was something of a Sommelier. He was at that one wedding where He made really good wine. Remember?
I think good wine is important, that's why it's in the bible.
Some people have no problem purchasing the occasional box of wine. As long as it's an expensive box.
For my part, I'd rather have a glass or two of good wine with someone wonderful than a whole box anytime. A box is for a cheap buzz. A good glass is a sensual experience.
I think wine must be like sex.
Hang with me for a moment, I am not going to get scandalous.
What I mean is that a lot of the single people I know approach dating (which they equate with sex) like a box of cheap wine. It's an easy buzz, and a never ending supply. Plus, they look for it in local bars.
The real thing requires a higher cost, and a richer pleasure. Granted, any comparison to sex is asking a great deal of my memory. But I think it's profound anyway.
No wine worth having is available the day it's made....you have to wait a while. See how my analogy works?
I know, I know....nice Christian homeschool moms don't talk about such things.
But I know a few single people, and most of them aren't Christian homeschool moms.
(Well, there is Celise, but she's the only other single, Christian, homeschool mom on the planet. I thank God for her, by-the-way, because nobody else understands my life like that girl does.)
Most of the single people I know are all about the cheap box o' wine, if you see what I mean.
So, when I talk about Purity,
or Jesus,
or the value of Exquisite Wine, they have no idea what planet I'm from. They back away slowly while speaking in a soothing tone.
But I feel sad for them, because they've lost their taste for the real thing by saturating themselves in flavorless profligacy.
And they don't even know they're drowning.
I love wine.
Someday I am going to be really good at being a wine snob.
Even Jesus was something of a Sommelier. He was at that one wedding where He made really good wine. Remember?
I think good wine is important, that's why it's in the bible.
Some people have no problem purchasing the occasional box of wine. As long as it's an expensive box.
For my part, I'd rather have a glass or two of good wine with someone wonderful than a whole box anytime. A box is for a cheap buzz. A good glass is a sensual experience.
I think wine must be like sex.
Hang with me for a moment, I am not going to get scandalous.
What I mean is that a lot of the single people I know approach dating (which they equate with sex) like a box of cheap wine. It's an easy buzz, and a never ending supply. Plus, they look for it in local bars.
The real thing requires a higher cost, and a richer pleasure. Granted, any comparison to sex is asking a great deal of my memory. But I think it's profound anyway.
No wine worth having is available the day it's made....you have to wait a while. See how my analogy works?
I know, I know....nice Christian homeschool moms don't talk about such things.
But I know a few single people, and most of them aren't Christian homeschool moms.
(Well, there is Celise, but she's the only other single, Christian, homeschool mom on the planet. I thank God for her, by-the-way, because nobody else understands my life like that girl does.)
Most of the single people I know are all about the cheap box o' wine, if you see what I mean.
So, when I talk about Purity,
or Jesus,
or the value of Exquisite Wine, they have no idea what planet I'm from. They back away slowly while speaking in a soothing tone.
But I feel sad for them, because they've lost their taste for the real thing by saturating themselves in flavorless profligacy.
And they don't even know they're drowning.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
The Lord's Day
I have a lot of questions right now about the way life ought to be as opposed to the way it is. I really love my little life, and I get to see grand miraculous things happening rather frequently. But that's not really what I am talking about.
I wonder about deeper, philosophical things.
Spiritual things.
Like which elements of my Christianity are manufactured by the Wealthy Western culture I find myself in.
Do you wonder about that?
Does God really care if we show up to church in heels and nylons so we look nice while we smile at each other? Where in Scripture does it say that I need to fold my hands and close my eyes while praying? How come none of the 'nice' Christians I know hang out with Prostitutes and thieves, like Jesus did? Is there an order of service in the bible...and do we even have to meet in a church building?
These questions are fanned into flame by two men that I love, Uncle Ross and Donald Miller.
I know Uncle Ross because he's married to my Martial Arts Auntie. He's way smarter than anyone else on the planet, I think.
I don't really know Donald Miller, except that I've read all his books. I might marry him if things don't work out with Chuck.
Chuck brings all these questions out, too. He often comments that I function in a "world of women and children", and that Jesus was a man. That's true. Men are a different species! I have lots to learn on that front, too.
All of these men challenge a lot of the things I thought were true about being a Good Christian.
Before just a few years ago:
It had totally never occurred to me that Jesus wasn't American-ish. I always thought of Him as having a Ivy League education and a western way of thinking. He would be well-groomed and polite. hmmmm.....
I'm growing, I think.
I really want to know the Real Jesus.
I totally know how to fit in at my church and be a Pharisee.
But God wants me to give food to the poor with my own two hands.
God wants me to love in action the people He loves. Often this is inconvenient.
God wants me to protect the fatherless, and he's made that one easy for me! I have two of those living in my home.
God wants me to seek Him with my whole heart, and I think that's what this is all about.
I wonder about deeper, philosophical things.
Spiritual things.
Like which elements of my Christianity are manufactured by the Wealthy Western culture I find myself in.
Do you wonder about that?
Does God really care if we show up to church in heels and nylons so we look nice while we smile at each other? Where in Scripture does it say that I need to fold my hands and close my eyes while praying? How come none of the 'nice' Christians I know hang out with Prostitutes and thieves, like Jesus did? Is there an order of service in the bible...and do we even have to meet in a church building?
These questions are fanned into flame by two men that I love, Uncle Ross and Donald Miller.
I know Uncle Ross because he's married to my Martial Arts Auntie. He's way smarter than anyone else on the planet, I think.
I don't really know Donald Miller, except that I've read all his books. I might marry him if things don't work out with Chuck.
Chuck brings all these questions out, too. He often comments that I function in a "world of women and children", and that Jesus was a man. That's true. Men are a different species! I have lots to learn on that front, too.
All of these men challenge a lot of the things I thought were true about being a Good Christian.
Before just a few years ago:
It had totally never occurred to me that Jesus wasn't American-ish. I always thought of Him as having a Ivy League education and a western way of thinking. He would be well-groomed and polite. hmmmm.....
I'm growing, I think.
I really want to know the Real Jesus.
I totally know how to fit in at my church and be a Pharisee.
But God wants me to give food to the poor with my own two hands.
God wants me to love in action the people He loves. Often this is inconvenient.
God wants me to protect the fatherless, and he's made that one easy for me! I have two of those living in my home.
God wants me to seek Him with my whole heart, and I think that's what this is all about.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
My eldest son
M' likes girls.
This is, I suppose, better than it could be.
However, he's only 11. I told him, "You are NOT 'hot', at 11, you are maybe 'luke-warm.'" He says girls think he's sexy. Whatever.
The dad of this little girl just knocked on my door this morning to invite M' to her soccer game. He says M' is "always welcome." This cute little girl hid behind her daddy while he spoke with me. Her name is Sarah, and she has freckles and a winning personality. I hadn't showered yet, and I have mascara under my eyes. I am certain I made a smashing impression.
M' is giddy.
M' says I should put a photo of him on here so all your daughters will see the truth about how Hot he is. Clearly his self-esteem is solid.
I am really not ready for this.
I told him that he is too young to have a girlfriend. He said, "yeah, I know. But we can't help liking each other."
I have never had the brakes go out on my car, but this part of parenting is like that must be. I feel like I'm standing on the brake pedal, but it's going to the floor. I can't stop it.
M' says that all his friends who have dads are getting encouragement to seek out girls. I keep telling him girls are evil. They are Satan. Run fast, run far. He says Chuck encourages it. I told him Chuck is evil.
D' is close behind. He's rapidly approaching the age of 10, and he gets super goofy around pretty girls of any age.
Dang, why do they start so young? I was never so....O, wait.Yes, I was.
I have a long road ahead.
Lock up your daughters.
This is, I suppose, better than it could be.
However, he's only 11. I told him, "You are NOT 'hot', at 11, you are maybe 'luke-warm.'" He says girls think he's sexy. Whatever.
The dad of this little girl just knocked on my door this morning to invite M' to her soccer game. He says M' is "always welcome." This cute little girl hid behind her daddy while he spoke with me. Her name is Sarah, and she has freckles and a winning personality. I hadn't showered yet, and I have mascara under my eyes. I am certain I made a smashing impression.
M' is giddy.
M' says I should put a photo of him on here so all your daughters will see the truth about how Hot he is. Clearly his self-esteem is solid.
I am really not ready for this.
I told him that he is too young to have a girlfriend. He said, "yeah, I know. But we can't help liking each other."
I have never had the brakes go out on my car, but this part of parenting is like that must be. I feel like I'm standing on the brake pedal, but it's going to the floor. I can't stop it.
M' says that all his friends who have dads are getting encouragement to seek out girls. I keep telling him girls are evil. They are Satan. Run fast, run far. He says Chuck encourages it. I told him Chuck is evil.
D' is close behind. He's rapidly approaching the age of 10, and he gets super goofy around pretty girls of any age.
Dang, why do they start so young? I was never so....O, wait.Yes, I was.
I have a long road ahead.
Lock up your daughters.
Friday, September 01, 2006
blogging
I have been blog-surfing. That's where you go and read other people's blogs...like, people you don't even know. There's this one girl named Heather Ann, and I love her. I don't know her in real life, but she's an amazing writer and I read her every day. http://www.heatherannehogan.com/
You should read her.
I love to read the blogs of people I know, but there's something about reading the blogs of people I don't know. I wonder what strangers think when they read mine.
Some of them are really funny, some are dull. Most are actually pretty dull. However....
http://www.tftdr.blogspot.com/
This one is Cathy and I love her. She is mostly writing to those who know her, but I think you'll get a kick out of her. She's just done a really great blog entry called "Whoa! that's got like a lemony touch to it" that is one of her best ever.
I have a cousin who blogs, but I can't put her link on my site. She's all clandestine about her life. Kisses, dear cousin!
Most blogs are a little weird. Have you found this to be true? It's not good literature. It's not even very compelling. I read this one tonight by some man who used only English words with more than 18 syllables. I have no idea what he said.
I wonder what really makes a good blog....so I ask!
What makes you want to read?
You should read her.
I love to read the blogs of people I know, but there's something about reading the blogs of people I don't know. I wonder what strangers think when they read mine.
Some of them are really funny, some are dull. Most are actually pretty dull. However....
http://www.tftdr.blogspot.com/
This one is Cathy and I love her. She is mostly writing to those who know her, but I think you'll get a kick out of her. She's just done a really great blog entry called "Whoa! that's got like a lemony touch to it" that is one of her best ever.
I have a cousin who blogs, but I can't put her link on my site. She's all clandestine about her life. Kisses, dear cousin!
Most blogs are a little weird. Have you found this to be true? It's not good literature. It's not even very compelling. I read this one tonight by some man who used only English words with more than 18 syllables. I have no idea what he said.
I wonder what really makes a good blog....so I ask!
What makes you want to read?
Education
I just got back from the hospital. Ryan is doing great today. He is spunky and mischievous. I'll be surprised if the hospital can hold him much beyond tomorrow. I am so glad to see him so improved. And, Jenn, the illness's name is a guess my Mother made. She's pretty good at that, but I don't know that it's official. I couldn't spell it if it was.
We are done with the first week of school. Praise be!
Did I tell you that I am using a new approach this year? It's the alcoholics anonymous approach to homeschool. The A.A.A.
No, really!
It's like where Alcoholics don't give up drinking for the rest of their lives...they just don't drink Today.
So, I have applied this to my homeschool and it worked this week. I don't have to be strictly scheduled for the rest of my life...I just have to stick to my schedule today. I started to fall off the wagon when my alarm went off this morning, but I overcame my snooze button. Hail the conquering Hero.
Homeschool is the coolest thing ever. I wish I'd been able to do it as a kid. If I'd had a library card and a set of encyclopedias, I'd have been really smart. That would be my dream education, you know? Just to read all day and research my own questions.
My kids get that kind of education. We're very much learning together.
We've studied all kinds of fascinating things that they wouldn't really get in school... Latin and bible and Shakespeare and tons of history.
Plus, they can be exploited as free labor. These boys can cook and clean!
Now, I need to go take them to their hot-shot XMA class....
We are done with the first week of school. Praise be!
Did I tell you that I am using a new approach this year? It's the alcoholics anonymous approach to homeschool. The A.A.A.
No, really!
It's like where Alcoholics don't give up drinking for the rest of their lives...they just don't drink Today.
So, I have applied this to my homeschool and it worked this week. I don't have to be strictly scheduled for the rest of my life...I just have to stick to my schedule today. I started to fall off the wagon when my alarm went off this morning, but I overcame my snooze button. Hail the conquering Hero.
Homeschool is the coolest thing ever. I wish I'd been able to do it as a kid. If I'd had a library card and a set of encyclopedias, I'd have been really smart. That would be my dream education, you know? Just to read all day and research my own questions.
My kids get that kind of education. We're very much learning together.
We've studied all kinds of fascinating things that they wouldn't really get in school... Latin and bible and Shakespeare and tons of history.
Plus, they can be exploited as free labor. These boys can cook and clean!
Now, I need to go take them to their hot-shot XMA class....
The briefest update
Morning Everyone
The update on Ryan is a little different. Yesterday he spiked a fever again, and seemed to lose some ground. The Doctors are still clueless. Poor Kid.
I have no deep thoughts this morning, as I am still applying coffee to my already limited intellect.
Perhaps I'll write to you in a bit, once I can form coherent thoughts...
The update on Ryan is a little different. Yesterday he spiked a fever again, and seemed to lose some ground. The Doctors are still clueless. Poor Kid.
I have no deep thoughts this morning, as I am still applying coffee to my already limited intellect.
Perhaps I'll write to you in a bit, once I can form coherent thoughts...
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