A scary Halloween

The local Christian radio station is playing all Christmas music today. Kill me now.

My kids have never been trick-or-treating. The reason is that I am a firm believer in being a dogmatic right wing fundamentalist. This is the same reason I vote, home educate, and drink heavily.

This year, however, I've sold my soul to the devil. Tim allows his kids to celebrate Halloween. Heck, they even decorate their house with skeletons and spiders. Since I am all in love with this man, I am going to Compromise. Perhaps "compromise" is the wrong word. The right phrasing may be "give up." I suspect I am going to be doing a lot of that.

People keep asking me if this man has any faults. I don't know if they just want the goods on him, or if they want to see if I am being realistic. He has six faults. I will list them for you here:

1. He owns 5 TVs

6. He celebrates Halloween.

Other than that, he's an ok fellow. I think that I can learn to live with #6.

I am not ready to think about Christmas, and so I am hating the radio. This does not explain why I am still listening to it. Perhaps I am just enjoying torturing myself as a way of reveling in this Pagan Holiday.

I am going to dress up, though. I don't know for sure what I'll be. Any day that involves costumes can't be all bad, though, right?

Will you respect me in the morning?

My teenager and I were discussing the finer points of dating. Specifically, the question of how far a dating couple should go physically. As a parent, I think he should stay very far from all females until he's ready to marry the girl of my choosing. He can hold her hand after the wedding vows.

For myself, it might be a different matter. Kissing is fun, and I would like to pursue it as a recreational activity. Or an Olympic event.

Is it a different matter?

Someone who is wiser than me lent an interesting perspective to my thinking:
As a young adult, there is a learning process through which one learns to relate to the opposite sex. One must learn the value of commitment, of communication, and finally, of physical expression.
A young person will not be able to understand what a relationship takes, indeed, will likely not be remotely concerned with building a lifelong love.
They are more interested in satisfying their curiosity, and indulging baser urges.

As an adult who has been married, there ought to be a deeper understanding of the power, and the value of relationship. There should be a maturity that allows for more deliberate action, in every aspect of a romance. This is not always the case, obviously. But a seasoned adult is certainly in a better position to understand this than a fledgling teen.

Ergo, where a hormone ridden adolescent ought to refrain from physical expression, an adult may carefully chose to participate (though perhaps not with the intensity of an Olympic event.)

Is that any different than insisting that my kids refrain from alcohol, while I sip my wine? Or refusing to allow them a puff of my cigar? I don't really smoke cigars. Not very often, anyway. Can they cry "hypocrite"?

There's no doubt that I can speak on this issue with my kids from the perspective of a person in the midst of it.
Most of my friends will deal with these issues with their children, from the security of a long standing marriage. Lucky them.
However, my hope is that my kids will see that I am really in-touch with these issues, and that I am speaking from a fresh perspective.
I want them to know that purity is a struggle, but it's one that I have fought for. I want them to know that I can relate when they struggle....you know, when that day comes.

I want my kids to save sex for marriage, but I want more than that for them. I want them to see sexual expression as of priceless value, and for them to pursue Purity in every relationship they have. I must think about this and model a clear example for them to follow. And I must be able to answer their questions with honesty and conviction.

It's also worth noting that I find biblical guidelines for dating to be ambiguous at best. God is clear about how a single person can live with unobstructed devotion to the Lord. I get that.
Married persons can glorify God in the display of Christ's love for the church.
But what about the transition...this weird dating thing we do in the Western world? It seems to me that even here one must live it out in way that brings attention to the Creator. He is the Author of Romance, after all. It was His idea. And a very fine idea it is, if I may say so.

In dating, as in everything else, "whatever you do, in word or deed, do all to the glory of God." Can I kiss to the Glory of God? Can my teenager?

It's sure worth thinking about.

Dani shot the kids

I have consumed three times my body weight in carbohydrates today. What with all the sleeping and the eating, I suspect my figure is likely to suffer. I can read your mind, you know. It is not PMS.

I have been framing the man I love. My house is like a shrine. I have lovely, smiling images of Tim, sitting atop freshly ironed lace all over my house. The pictures are sitting on the lace. Not Tim. Although, that thought is somewhat amusing. Patsy could likely arrange something quite comical, along those lines, with a few minutes in Photoshop.
Now I need more pictures of the kids in frames. The above photos are some of my favorites. With the startling exception of my eldest, who looks like a cougar magnet.
Why do we have so many pictures, you ask? Doesn't every dating couple get family photos done? Seems perfectly sane to me.
The photos were done by my sister, Dani. She was going to be a famous photographer for National Geographic when she grew up. She's really gifted. Instead of an illustrious career, she just takes pictures of celibate, christian couples and their children. Which works well for me.

The Reigning Queen of Doilies

I have more doilies that you do. Do you know how I know? Because I just stripped every surface of my home of all the dusty doilies, and they filled a super-sized load in my washing machine. No one else, on the planet, under the age of 72, can equal me. And those are only the doilies that were out. I have truckloads more in boxes and drawers. I am going to be ironing for "a month of Sundays," as my Granny used to say. Only people with mountains of neatly starched doilies can be called "Granny," in case you were wondering.
Who is wearing-out her quotation marks today?
Besides the doily stripping rampage, I have had a somewhat unproductive day. This morning included the application of vast amounts of makeup, and hair product. The noon hour was committed to a lunch date.
What home school?
I figure that clean lace will cover a multitude of sins.
Speaking of sins...
Why did they say "a month of Sundays" to exaggerate a really long time? Personally, I find that Sundays are never long enough. We frequently go to regular church late in the mornings, scramble for something edible to share at house church, and then go to house church for the afternoon and evening. Sunday is a day of Rest, and also socialization. Homeschooled children need socialization, right? Homeschooled mothers certainly do. Heck, when they aren't washing doilies and having lunch dates, they're downright deprived of intelligent conversation. So, that's why they blog.

African Sleeping Sickness

I have been sleeping 10 or 11 hours each night, which seems excessive. It's a colossal waste of time. I do it every year, though, when the nights get long. My body just figures that if it's dark, I should be asleep. When I am asleep, I am not exercising, or cleaning, or blogging, or educating my children. Just for the record, they sleep even longer than I do. Maybe it's a familial affliction.

I've been reading a lot. And thinking a fair amount. I have not been working. One of the downsides to the economic collapse is that people are losing their jobs, and therefore not needing daycare. I need to figure out a way to get paid for sleeping and reading.

I know a man who believes that Obama is the Antichrist. This man is packing up and moving to Ecuador, because he fears the one-world government. I find this 'logic' perplexing. If there is, in fact, a one world government, wouldn't you need to move to another world to escape? Why would Obama be the Antichrist? Are there large numbers of people who believe this to be a viable possibility? Maybe he's an alien, and he's here to take over this planet. Then he could set up an intergalactic government.

The elections are coming upon us rapidly. Won't it be fascinating to see what happens?

I mean, Obama could be the Antichrist, I guess. I believe that there will be an antichrist one day. The bible talks about the inevitability of that. I just don't see getting all worked up over it. It's going to happen one of these days, and God's got it all under control.

Personally, I think that lots of sleep is the answer. If everyone in the world was gettig enough rest, perhaps we'd be more amiable, and less likely to panic.

Failure, and Last Halloween

I have fantastic pictures that I can't show you. They are on a DVD, and my computer won't do DVDs. So, I went to my corner drugstore, and spent an entire hour on their cheap and easy photo thingy, only to have it give me an error report Twice as I tried to put all the photos on a CD. It was annoying in the extreme.
I'll make another attempt tomorrow.

Instead, I have posted a funny-ish picture from last Halloween. The guy with the long black hair, hugging a rather small Dragon is Tim. He was at my house last October for a party. He was my friend then, and I had a crush on him. Tim, not the dragon.

Now, I am going to go to bed. I just thought it would be a good idea to check in and blog again, since I have been neglecting you so.

My Life these days

The way I think has everything to do with the way I blog.
When I am writing frequently, I think of all my daily experiences in terms of a blog. Every thing is tweaked and phrased for comic effect or depth of impact. It's funny, because my conversations and observations almost happen, for me, in text. When I get out of the groove of writing, then it becomes very difficult to switch to that way of thinking.
When I am out of the habit, I'll sit and stare at the blinking cursor with no inspiration whatsoever. When that happens, my little life seems dreadfully uninteresting. Which is hard to imagine, because moment by moment, I find myself quite fascinated by all that's going on around me.

The past few days have been a steady stream of regular days. We're dominated by schoolwork, housework, and Tim's family. It's not a bad way of life, to tell you the truth.

The schoolwork is not so bad this year. The children both are well able to look over their list de jour, and complete the projects that need to be done. For myself, I just need to stay consistent with correcting what they do, and explaining what they do not understand.
Both of my boys have begun wrestling at the local middle school. It's a great thing for them, because it allows them to do the same sport, on the same team. I am seeing a new found camaraderie in them that I am appreciating very much. The whole matter of of men in Lycra rolling about on stinky mats is a concern I am keeping to myself.

The housework is not worth writing about. You have the very same projects, I am sure. I suppose there would be more effervescence and interest if I would actually do it. But, whatever.

And Tim? Love him. We are settling into that kind of regular interaction that couples find themselves consumed by. We get together most every day, and the drive between our homes is becoming inconvenient. This is why couples end up getting married. You thought sex would be the reason, but I think the quest to save on gas money might be equally motivating. Maybe not. There is something to be said about the realization that we only go home to sleep. Actually, I am home right now, and I am not sleeping, so perhaps we have a ways to go. When I'm only here to sleep and shower, then it's time to elope.

My sister is on her way over so we can pour over photos from this weekend's photo shoot. If there's good ones, I'll share later.
Enjoy the remainder of your Monday.

Don't drink the Kool-Aid

Those who know me well, know that it's a good thing I am one of them Born-Again-Christians. Otherwise? I would totally be the leader of my own cult.

I have a really alarming Messiah complex. This was lovingly pointed out to me by Boyfriend Who Is Still Learning About Me. What he actually said was, "Do you want to save the world?" Which I do.

The thing that kills me, when I hear of heartache or need, is the fact that I am so impotent to rescue others. You would think that this realisation would go a long way towards reminding me that I am not, in fact, God. It never seems to dissuade me, though.

I was thinking of this again, this morning, as I was looking at how I tend to judge others. I have a really, severely, overdeveloped, sense of justice. I issue proclamation in my head as to whether someone is Right or Wrong. I'm like the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. "Off with his head!" As if I know enough about the condition of someone's heart to make that kind of determination.
It's quite arrogant, really.

It's very difficult for me to get over the fact, that I do not have the power to save the entire world, or even Ada County. In my mind, I seem to see myself at the head of some joyous parade of adoring, and very grateful, followers who dance to my tune, support my authority, and praise my proclamations. There is medication for this, right?

The God of the Universe, (and I don't mean me), is committed to dethroning me from my delusional monarchy. He Alone has the power to save. He Alone has the insight for judgement. He Alone is capable of leading the planet.

All-in-all it can be very difficult to be me. The truth is that my overzealous desires serve to magnify my inadequacies tremendously. It makes me rather a constant disappointment to myself, as I fight this battle within. Mine is a daily struggle to bend my knee before my Liege Lord. I am always confronted with the ridiculous-ness of my own Pride and Folly.

But God is very patient with me. Far more patient than I am with myself, and so much more so than I am with others.
Pray He keeps me subdued, because otherwise, I'll be dangerous.

Death of Deer and Viruses, and a bit of Sushi

No deer is safe, I tell ya.
My kid is a heck of a shot. Apparently he dropped a big, meaty animal, with a single shot, from 200 yards. This means we'll have a full freezer for winter. Out here in Idaho, that's a good thing. We mix the deer meat with what's left of our Y2K provisions, and eat in in the bunker.
When I say "winter," I am applying the term somewhat loosely, to mean the season which is currently upon us. The season where the snow falls before the leaves fall. That season.
Besides the kill, M brought home a nice case of Pink Eye. He resembles Two-Face. One side of his face is handsome and youthful. The other side is swollen, and an angry red, with gunk accumulating around the perimeter of his baby blue. Nice.
The upside is that fewer ladies are likely to be asking for his phone number. I am very excited about this.
D' has been religiously taking his antibiotics for the strep. We're real healthy around here, when we're not oozing viruses and bacterium. (Bacterii? Bacterius?) He's feeling better, but getting as much mileage out of this illness as he possibly can. Being sick means video games. Who made that rule?
I am living in a paranoid fear of coughs, sneezes, and small children. And also of Kara, who has likewise contracted the Black Plague. Pass the Vitamin C.

My sisters and I had the hilarious experience of watching our elegant mother try sushi for the first time. We went to lunch on Saturday, and pressured her into a bite. A big bite.
Now, first you must know that chopsticks are a mystery to her. Before I tracked down an Americanized implement for her dining pleasure, she was impaling her lettuce with a single, awkwardly wielded stick. The forked eased the passage of her salad into her mouth.
It took us a bit of effort to convince her that the sushi was not likely to kill her. She managed to dip it in the soy sauce, with a touch of wasabi. Then, she asked, "Do I put the whole thing in my mouth?" And we nodded in the affirmative. I have to tell you, that we thought she was going to spit that large mouthful right back out! Actually, Amanda and I nearly spit our own food out in laughter at the agonized way she chewed. She hated it. But, even after the horrific experience, she picked up the tab. Love her.

And that's my story.

In Other news...

-My eldest child is off to kill something this weekend. He's deer hunting, to feed this family for the winter. And also to bag a trophy.

-I watched a dreadful excuse for a movie last night. Zohan. Seriously? Don't mess with it.

-I am back to full-caffeine coffee. For some reason that seems to allow me to get more done with my days. Go figure.

-Football is over for us. Wrestling is next. Did I tell you that M' scored his first touchdown this year? He's a stud.

-My youngest is on antibiotics for strep. Last week he was terribly ill with a high fever that resulted in delirium. It was awful. He's much better now. I love medicine.

-I have fallen completely in love. But you knew that. Tim continues to amaze and delight me, with his deliberate pursuit of myself and my children. This is the stuff of fairy tales.

-Who let winter in early? I am morally opposed to turning on the heater this soon, yet snow is forecast for this weekend. How is this possible?

-Kara brought over her mother's photo album from the '70's. I was in it. First with wispy blond pigtails, then with a Farrah Faucet Do. Does anyone else remember Hash Jeans?

-Kara's Mother, Yvonne, has been incredibly beautiful for over 30 years. So has my own Mother, as evidenced by the photos in that book. Neither one has changed one iota. I hope I age like that.

-It's Friday, and I am supposed to go out with girlfriends tonight. Mostly, I think I am getting too tired for such wild abandon. I get more excited about the thought of climbing in bed early, than about going dancing. How pitiful is that? Does that mean I've finally grown up?

My Two Cents

I've been thinking a bit about the state of our nation, and all the excitement in the political climate.
The economic crisis is dreadful, there's no doubt about it. However, it does seem to be a natural product of the excesses America is so famous for. I wonder what kind of lessons we will have learned looking back, five years hence?
The next leader of this country is a concern.
I watched the debate the other night with interest. That Obama is a fantastic Shaman...I mean Show man. He is handsome, and poised. Most of the public can't really discern whether or not he knows what he's talking about, but he seems believable. He's smooth, and I don't trust him a lick.
McCain, on the other hand, seems to have good experience. He has the possibility of a great team. The guy just doesn't present well. He seems awkward, agitated, and out of touch. He seems very well versed in the political machine, which could be a tremendous asset, however, he seems way too far removed from the people.
I was wondering if McCain would be like Abraham Lincoln. That was a very effective leader during a critical time in our nations history, yet he didn't seem at all presidential to the people of his day.
What do you think are the biggest issues? The economy, certainly. The war. Foreign policy. What else?
What do you think are the biggest requirements for the next leader of our country? Experience in politics? Integrity?
I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Cleaning the kids' room

My daily devotion led me on a tangent this morning. This is also what happens to me in church. I find that whatever the pastor says sort of acts as a catalyst to my own personal journey. I get all kinds of things out of sermons that have nothing to do with anything being taught.
This morning's devotion was about getting kids to help more around the house. Which is not deeply spiritual, and it was rather a stretch for the authors from their chosen Scriptural passage.
Although, if I could get more help from my kids, I'd find it heavenly.
If they'd spontaneously clean, I'd classify that as a religious experience.
SO, all in all, maybe it is worthy of a devotional reflection.

Anyway, all that prayin' for my kids, and thinking about getting their rooms clean, led me into my teenager's room with a garbage bag. It wasn't so much about his holy- helping around the house, as it was about my reckless abandon. I threw away an enormous amount of...garbage. Why do you suppose he was keeping empty pop-tart wrappers in there? Or clothing that hasn't fit him since the 5th grade? Why do you think he prefers to have his football uniform ferment between wearings? Why does he store clothing under his furniture? My resultant pile of laundry could endanger low-flying planes.
It's been a productive day, is the thing.

We miss you, Heidi

So, let's say that you invest yourself in a group of friends for a number of years....say, 8 or 10.
Let's say that you then move across the country temporarily. Which, you wouldn't really want to do on account of you have such a fantastic, irreplaceable group of people who love you.
Let's then suppose that your move becomes permanent, and you find that you need to sell your original house, from the other side of the United States of America.
This would suck, right?
Just imagine if you had colors on the walls of that house which your super-savvy realtor said would have to go. But, let's say that you are, at that moment, 9 and a half months pregnant. Which prohibits you from flying, much less painting. What would you do?

Why, you'd call your friends, of course.

Buneau Sand Dunes

Sarah's Suit, and the Sand

Did you watch the debate?
Sarah had a fantastic suit on. And did you see her shoes? That lady has style. You've gotta give her that. Wouldn't she pretty-up foreign policy? I thought she sounded tremendously smart, too. The other guy seemed a little cranky, though. He was old and upstaged by the beauty he was debating, so you can't really blame him for being down on himself.
I wish that these two were running for president, because I think that they are far more charismatic than their running mates. The main guys just don't seem all that, well, Presidential.
I watched the debate at Tim's. He has 5 TVs. Have I mentioned this? How can I be in love with a man who owns 5 TVs?
Today we're off to explore the Sand Dunes. I've been there before, but Tim and his kids haven't. If I am smart, I'll take lots of pictures to share with you.
Have a lovely day, Friends.

Presidential platform

I, Kelly Blogger, do hereby accept the people's nomination for President of these United States.
The United States of America will thrive under my confident leadership. I will lower taxes, cut government spending, and eliminate blue eye shadow altogether.
Together we shall bridge the widening gap between the political parties of this Great Union. With this goal in mind, I shall ensure that upon my election, every registered Republican will receive a handgun, and ammunition for their personal use. Each registered Democrat will be provided with a Deciduous Tree with which to better the environment.
Together we will mend the failing economy with the American Values of hard work and sacrifice. The companies that are failing, will be allowed to do so unhindered. Tax write-offs will be given to individuals and families who have no unsecured credit. Stay-at-home mothers will earn a tax deduction for the benefit of their families. Charge cards to retail stores will henceforth be declared unlawful.

With the vision and leadership that I bring to the American people, our future will be secure. Fashion and finance will be my top priorities, and you can count on a Unified, Strong, and Beautiful land, once again.
God Bless America!