Iron Giant

We watched an animated movie last night that came recommended through Backwoods Home Magazine. Because Claire Wolfe's review talked about the movie being a bit of a commentary on intrusive government, and because we were exhausted and looking for something "lite" last night, we were a little leery of the movie. We thought there might be too much depth, too much thinking, not enough laughing.

But we got the best of both worlds.

Iron Giant is a cute movie about a robot that lands here from outer space. It starts off a bit like Androcles and the Lion. One of the kids commented on the anti-gun theme through the movie (which is something that surprised us, given where we found the movie recommendation in the first place), but it wasn't altogether bad, with most of the anti-gun stuff being about offensive use of weapons. The fun part was that there were just a lot of laughs throughout the movie, and a lot of cute little spots that make you grin and say, "Awwwww!"

The review for my mom:
language: I think there was one bad word
sex: nope
violence: not really
setting: It is labeled sci-fi only because of the robot. Sci-fi is not generally anything I like, but this is not what I would call science fiction.
kid-friendliness: Andrew said it bored him when he saw it at Caseys' a few years ago, but he seemed to enjoy it last night. Maggie didn't care for it.


All in all, Iron Giant is one I could certainly watch again a time or two!

November 11

Thank God for the soldiers who defend us!

Stain Fighter

Last October I wrote a blogpost about saving a cute Halloween shirt from wretched stain. The pertinent paragraph is:

So to make my shirt wearable, I hauled out my trusty bleach+milk concoction. That stuff is utterly amazing! I fill a shot-glass nearly half full of milk (the higher the fat content, the better) and fill it the rest of the way with bleach. It can't be made ahead; there's a chemical reaction that causes a slight color change and a significant rise in temperature; the effectiveness lasts for 10 minutes or less. Using an old toothbrush to scrub that concoction into a stain on white fabric has done wonders to clean things. I don't trust it; it's pretty strong on the bleach and I'm never sure whether it might ruin something. But when an alb or a surplice gets such horrid sweat stains at the neckline that it's in dire need of replacement, I've discovered that bleach+milk will garner us several more years before we have to go ahead and order new vestments for the pastor. (Those you can't pick up at Goodwill for three bucks like you can kids' clothes.)

Yesterday I tried it on a colored garment. I had a kombucha stain on a cuddly-soft gray turtleneck that had sleeves long enough for a chimpanzee. (In other words, the cuffs actually made it all the way to my wrists!) The stains were bad enough that even I, messy pig though I be, was getting ashamed to wear it. So I tried the bleach & milk. It worked! And there aren't even white spots. The stain-fighter left the gray color in the shirt unmolested, but the stain is gone.

All right. Maybe this is goofy to be excited about. But I guess I get cheap thrills now and then!

How Was That Spelled?

A few of us were at a College Visit Day today. As we were touring the campus, I noticed an announcement on the in-house tv station. Apparently it's "International Education Week." Got that? Education. About international matters. Education.

So what's on the menu for one of the days of International Education Week? Tailand dinner.

Ah, maybe a little more education IS in order!

My Shower

When I'm taking a shower, do I really need to know that So-and-So picked up the kitten? While my hair is lathered with shampoo, am I prepared to give a report on the outdoor temperature today -- to a child who is capable of walking to the front door and looking at the thermometer herself? While I have soap in my eyes, is it necessary for me to grade math worksheets orally, while the questions are being yelled through the door?

"They say" homeschoolers are in need of socialization. I say that I have no desire whatsoever to socialize while I'm in the shower or on the toilet. There is a REASON bathrooms have doors on them. How hard is this to understand???

Slipping Off

I haven't worn shoes with heels for ages. I mean, like, years. And by "heels," I mean something where my heels are even with or higher than my toes. If I recall correctly, the last time I wore heels was prior to our family-trip to Daytona, when my mom and aunt were both telling me that I'd better get Birkenstocks before I forced myself into podiatric inserts. That was seven years ago.

My Birkies were falling apart. I was tripping over the loose soles. My friend Julie reminded me that it's okay (!!) to buy a new pair of shoes when yours are falling to pieces. But my shoes are Birkenstocks. And they fit me. And they're comfortable. (Those of you who do not wear Birkies do not know the love-fest that can occur between a girl and her shoes!)

So I epoxied the soles back on.

Julie thought I should still have better shoes. So today she brought me a pair of hand-me-downs that were lying around her house. Now, any NORMAL person would look at these shoes and say they're flats. Since I've been wearing them however, I have had the distinct feeling that I'm about to pitch forward and land on my nose. These heels are just gonna tip me right over on my face.

I think I've become a hippie who is addicted to my negative-heel Birkenstocks.

Depression Meds

Band-aids do not cure cuts. Band-aids do not help a wound to heal. Band-aids are useful in keeping a cut clean, so that infection is not so likely to set in. Band-aids are good for keeping blood out of the stewpot when you chopped your thumb when you intended to be chopping the onions and carrots.

I wonder if that may be what depression medications do. (No! Not the part about keeping red-cells out of your dinner!) I suspect that depression meds don't really solve the problem. In some cases, they are necessary to deal with fall-out from a problem. Or they may keep a problem from worsening, as a bandage protects a wound from being scratched or dirtied. Or maybe the meds temporarily alleviate stress so that a person can more easily focus efforts on other solutions to the depression. But can they actually be the solution themselves?

And on that tack, what is the difference between anfechtung and clinical depression? Because a prescription sure ain't gonna cure anfechtung.

Did We Miss It?

As we were driving past Bloomington today, an anxious child asks, "Did we miss the exit?"

"Nooooo," says the mother. "We didn't miss the exit."

Child knows that the Market Street exit in Bloomington is loaded with fast-food joints. And she knows the mother had gift certificates to Wendy's (courtesy of an aunt and uncle last Christmas). However, the mother is aware that the child has had enough junk food over the last few days.

So about fifteen minutes later, child asks again, "Are we to Bloomington yet?"

"Oh, we're way past it."

"We missed the exit!!!"

No, we didn't miss it."

Oh,.... the definitions of "miss."

Time Change

Hey, I think I've discovered the secret to getting through time-change weekend painlessly! Travel one time-zone east!

Saturday I took a couple of kids and headed off to see Katie and Nathan. Katie and I sorted through the digital pictures from the wedding (already!?!) to get some photos printed out. We'll get to attend some awesome chapel services in connection with the Good Shepherd Institute's symposium. I intend to make Katie take me to her nursing home so I can see where she works and meet a few people over there. And I might even get to spend a little time with some friends too ... as if time with Katie and Nathan didn't already just load up the days with happiness!

It was easy to get up for church on Sunday morning, because their "hour early" (for time change) was the right time it would've been at home without time change. My body is taking this time-change easier than any in years. I suppose being off-schedule a bit, what with all the driving, will help us fall right into the proper times when we arrive back home.

I don't think it'd work to go west for "spring forward" weekend next spring. The Mountain Time Zone is just too far away for a goofy little thing like easing my body into the time-change. But I can dream, can't I?

The Same Tune

For the All Saints Day celebration at church, we sang Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones (TLH 475). For those who don't know, the song basically calls on the angels, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the patriarchs and prophets, the apostles and martyrs, and the saints triumphant, to join the church militant in singing praises to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But it's the same tune as St Bede's well-known Ascension hymn (TLH 212). So while you're singing the words of Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones, the other lines are running through your head too. "'This is the Savior,' thus they say. 'This is His noble triumph day.'" And "Again shall ye behold Him so, as ye today have seen Him go." And "Oh, grant us thitherward to tend and with unwearied hearts ascend."

I dunno. Maybe other people don't get excited about those things. Sometimes I just think it's a right-brained thing about making connections all over the place...

Attending Funerals

Until I was school-aged, and classes interfered, I remember going to funerals at church with my mom and grandma. They always seemed to be people I didn't know. Of course, I was 4 or 5; who would I know? Probably my mom and grandma knew the deceased, but that didn't make an impression on me. All I knew was that we went to funerals at church, even if I didn't know the people.

So when I grew up and had kids of my own, I went to the funerals at church. I suppose some people thought it was because I was the pastor's wife. But it wasn't. It was because of Mom and Nanna. And because I figured it was just right to go the funeral of those with whom you'd worshiped, those brothers and sisters in Christ, even if you didn't know them that well. They are family, regardless of whether you play cards with them, go to picnics with them, or sit next to them in the pew. So that's what we did. Even when a pastor told me once that it was "sorry" and "pitiful" for people to go to funerals of folks they don't know.

Then Pastor said something in Bible class recently that I never thought of before. He was in the midst of explaining to us how to talk to unbelieving friends and family members and co-workers about the Faith. It wasn't a pep-talk about how to "do evangelism." It was just the simple stuff of what to say (the contents of the creed) and what not to say (your "testimonial"). He mentioned -- somewhat in passing -- that this was why it was important to come to funerals at church, even if you barely know the person. At funerals, the Christian brothers and sisters are speaking the Faith to the mourners. The Christian mourners need to have the support of fellow-Christians in their time of need. But the unbelieving mourners hear the Gospel sung and spoken by the church-family. The unbelievers are there with the church-family and not "just" the pastor (who, in their minds, is there just because it's his job).

Who would've ever thought to list "attend funerals" under the heading "Evangelism Efforts"?

Health Insurance

If my neighbor is behind on his electric bill and is about to have his power turned off, I can pay his bill for him if I so choose. If I want to plunk down some tuition money for my son-in-law's account at the seminary, the sem thinks that's just dandy. I don't think our credit card company cares at all who pays my monthly bill, just so long as it gets paid.

Our health insurance is not like that. The premiums must be paid by the employer, on a check that has the employer's name and address on it. If the employer is behind on payments, no one else can "help out" and pay the bill. I'm not sure of the reasoning behind that. The health insurance people tried to explain it to me; it's something about the premiums being the responsibility of the employer, and so they cannot accept funds from the employee or from other entities. However, that really leaves an employee in a humongous pickle if, for some reason, the church treasurer cannot or will not pay the premium. No one else is allowed to step in with assistance. I cannot understand, though, why it would matter to the insurer where the premiums arrived from.

Dumb Cat

Rosie Cotton (the kitten) loves water. She always wants to stick her head down into our water glasses and have us share our water. She will knock water glasses over if she can't get her head far enough down in the glass to lap it up; that way she can drink the puddle. Do you have any idea how hilarious it looks to see a cat's head all smooshed up inside a clear glass tumbler?

She's figured something out. Toothbrushes mean water. If somebody is brushing teeth, that means the water in the bathroom sink will be running off and on, and she can lap up water from around the sink drain. After some pretty funny mishaps, she's gotten adept at jumping up to the sink to poke her nose into the toothbrushing business.

But her ears aren't quite finely attuned to the precise sound of water in the sink. If somebody goes into the bathroom and pees (which does happen, now and then, y'know, with six people living here) the kitten hears "water running." She comes in a hurry, barges in, jumps up into the sink, and is shocked to find the sink dry. Now, just what's up with THAT?

(It's good to have a clown in the house!)

And Now ....

the stove is not working. Looks like I'm going to be back to cooking at church and in the crockpots, like it was in September. Of course, one of the crockpot lids broke, so now I'm down to only one of those. Cooking at church is going to be a bigger pain than it was before, running back and forth in the cold, and carrying food back to the house through the cold.

Psalm 46:5

God is in the midst of her;
she shall not be moved.
God shall help her
just at the break of dawn.

Y'know what that means, doncha?
You go through the whole long dark night,
and finally the help comes with the morning light.
But you still go through the time of darkness when it seems there is no help from God.

Liturgy

Gina has a great blog post about her reactions to the liturgy when she first found herself in need of a church, and what it's like for an unworthy sinner to be confronted by the Gospel instead of moralism.

The Long Warfare

After two months of severe health problems for my dad, the doctors finally discovered the problem. Doctors don't often get the response, "Oh, good!" when they announce a cancer diagnosis. But when the doctors finally pinpoint a problem and have a surgery to correct the heretofore undiagnosed distress, it's really quite a relief.

The surgery was done. Recuperation has begun. And it's going better than the recuperation from last year's surgery.

One thing stunned me, though. After two days of my being in hospital waiting rooms, swabbing lips, adjusting pillows, holding hands, sitting with mom & sibs, eating cafeteria food instead of my own cooking, not getting much sleep, etc,

when I came home I realized that it was less stressful at the hospital than it is at home. There's something seriously wrong when being at the hospital while your beloved father is having surgery ... is a restful vacation compared to your regular everyday life.

I'm tired.



And when the fight is fierce,
the warfare long,
steals on the ear
the distant triumph song.
And hearts are brave again
and arms are strong.
Alleluia! (TLH 463)

One-Year Series

I really really really like the one-year series for the lectionary. I like that I hear the same readings over and over, out of the same Bible translation, and begin to learn them and the flow of the wording. I like how that familiarity (not unlike having memorized the catechism) informs our understanding of (and interpretation of) other Bible passages. I like that with the 1-year series I always know the flow of the church year. Having different readings on the third Sunday after Easter (for example) seems as unsettling to me as it would be to celebrate Thanksgiving in March or to celebrate Valentines Day in June.

I don't do change well.

Code "Speed"

People usually know that when the nurses "call a code" in the hospital, it's not a good thing. However, it IS very important to be clear on which "code" they're calling. We learned the other night that "code: speed" (at least at that particular hospital) is the code which intercepts a situation that's going downhill rapidly. It doesn't mean the heart has stopped or the breathing has stopped. It just means that they're taking measures right away to ensure that the patient doesn't get anywhere close to "code blue."

But when a person gets a phone call in the middle of the night and the message is that they "called a code" on a loved one, and that he's unresponsive, it's not QUITE time to panic yet.

Now, you're not going to remember that when you get a phone call at 2 a.m., are you?

Dry Lips

When people are on IV's after surgery and can't have anything by mouth, their lips get really dry -- dry to the point of splitting and bleeding. The hospital gives you little swabby things to moisten the patient's mouth and lips. But it just isn't enough to take care of the problem.

I have been very pleased with Vitamin E. If you take one of those capsules with vitamin-E oil, and poke a hole in it, you can squeeze the E-oil out onto the dry lips. (Or dry skin. Or split heels.) It's sticky stuff, but it does wonders to keep the moisture locked in. And the vitamin helps heal cracks.

Refrigerator Muffins

As per Rachel's request,


box of Raisin Bran or Bran Flakes (10-15 oz.)
2.5 cups sugar
5 cups flour
2 tsp salt
1.5 Tbsp baking soda

4 beaten eggs
1 quart buttermilk
1 cup olive oil (or other veg oil)

Mix dry ingredients.
Add wet ingredients.
Mix well.
Store in covered container in fridge for up to six weeks. (If they're going to last that long, make sure you buy eggs with a far-away expiration date!)

Bake in greased muffin tins, 15-20 minutes at about 375-400.
Makes about 5 dozen muffins.

This Is the Feast

I love the canticle "This Is the Feast." It makes a lovely communion-distribution hymn, especially during Eastertide.

But I'm not fond of having it between the Kyrie and the Collect. Nothing wrong with it there, except that it displaces the Gloria in Excelsis.

There's so much to the liturgy. It is deep and profound. There is no way to plumb all the wonders of the historic liturgy. A long time ago I read an article that touched on another aspect of the liturgy that I'd never considered: the life of Christ being rehearsed each week in the structure of the Service.

We have the Old Testament hymns of the Church in the introit psalm. Then we pray for God's mercy. He answered that prayer in the incarnation of His Son, which we sing about in the angels' Christmas song (the Gloria in Excelsis). We hear about Jesus' ministry; we hear His preaching. Then we sing the Sanctus, joining in the hymn sung by the crowds on Palm Sunday: "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord." Then we get to Maundy Thursday and the Words of Institution. That is followed by what happened on Good Friday: "O Christ, Thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us."

The canticles highlight (in chronological order) the most important events which accomplished our salvation. As nice as "This Is the Feast" is, using it in place of the Gloria in Excelsis disturbs this aspect of meditating upon Jesus' work to save us.

Creme Brulee

After a gazillion times of watching High School Musical, we decided to try making "the perfect creme brulee." Well, not the perfect one, but just a stab at it.

Basically, first you make the custard and chill it. Then you put on the brown sugar top and melt/caramelize/burn it. We put it under the broiler. Didn't work well at all. It tasted like custard with an over-toasted marshmallow on top. We decided that apple Betty was better.

Now I'm curious as to what a "perfect creme brulee" tastes like. Would it be as good as I wished, or would I still think that banana cream pie, or a Snickers, or Julie's apple cake are better desserts?

Caskets

I am SO far behind on reading my Backwoods Home Magazines. But I was doing a little skimming during Maggie's swimming lesson recently. I ran across an article that really intrigued me: Funerals Don't Have to Be Expensive in the September 2005 issue. (See, I told you I was behind on my reading!)

It's hard to check out websites when you're sitting poolside. So tonight I finally got around to checking up on a few of these items. Turns out that the very nice cardboard casket in the article is no longer being manufactured. But there's a whole list of alternative suppliers of caskets. Maybe I'm morbid, but I kind of like the idea of spending $500 for a casket now, using it as a bookshelf or a linen chest, and then not having to pay the funeral director $6000 for a casket when we need one. Or maybe it's not being morbid so much as it is just being a tightwad. Of course, this scheme would leave me (or my family) with having loads of company for a funeral, and having the couch, chairs, and tables all covered with BOOKS that used to live in the casket/bookshelf and have recently been displaced.

Gary's been saying for quite a while that he should probably check out the funeral homes around here, and their prices. It would be something he could do at a leisurely pace so that the information would be available to church members when they're not in an emotional state to sort through all the decisions. I'd like to know what kind of pine boxes the funeral homes have available, so as to know whether to mail-order a casket from the guys who make Jewish caskets or easy-to-assemble pine boxes, or whether we could count on the more expensive caskets made by monks which can be shipped in the space of a day or two.

I fully intend to be one of those cruel and heartless customers who will boldly insist on seeing the "unacceptable caskets," the "welfare caskets," when visiting the morticians. I have no patience with salemen who try to pressure me into buying things. Kids, don't let them talk you into burying me and your dad in fancy boxes. Tell 'em your folks would be just fine with a used refrigerator box from the appliance store, if that were legal. And Mom, I'll go along with whatever the other kids say, and won't force them into picking cardboard or pine unless you want us to.

Psalm 78:60

He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh,
the tent He had placed among men,
and delivered His strength into captivity,
and His glory into the enemy's hand.

In the context of the psalm, which gives a run-down of Israel's history, this is obviously a reference to 1 Samuel 4-5 where the ark of the covenant is captured by the Philistines and placed in Dagon's temple.

I noticed too that the psalm makes plain that GOD was the one who delivered that ark into the hands of the Philistines; it wasn't that the Philistines overpowered God's people such that they could capture the Israelite God.

But, hey, we've been doing John at Thursday morning Bible class for the last year. So when I see "tabernacle" and "glory," I'm musing on the first chapter of John's gospel. Is this psalm about Jesus? The Father forsook the tabernacle, that is, the Son that He sent to mankind. On the cross, Jesus (the strength and the glory of God) was delivered into the enemy's hand. If this psalm is about Jesus, and if the capture of the ark was about Jesus too, then a person might even begin to wonder if part of the story is a picture of the descent into hell.

For all outward appearances, both the capture of the ark and the descent into hell were "loser" times for God. But that wasn't the reality. Look at what happened in Dagon's temple. The ark came in. And Dagon fell on his face. Dagon's priests set him upright. Next morning, Dagon was on his face again, with his head and hands broken off. Likewise, when Jesus descended into hell, it wasn't an oopsie that He had to cope with. He chose to be in that position, and it was a triumph for Him. "And every knee shall bow, in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ IS Lord to the glory of God the Father."

John 20:20

Okay, maybe this is a no-brainer for y'all, but I was just tickled when I noticed this today. Supposedly we were studying John 13 in Bible class today, but Pastor got off on one of his "foot theology" tangents, and how the Absolution plays into that, so he was reading to us from the Quasimodo Geniti gospel.

Then, the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them, "Peace be with you." When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. So Jesus said to them again, "Peace to you!"

Y'know, I'd always thought that Jesus' showing them His wounds was one thing, and the blessing of peace was another. Y'know, He comes in, forgives them ("Peace to you") and then shows them His hands and side. Like, say, maybe to prove it was the same guy who got crucified? Or like, maybe, to show that Friday's wounds didn't keep Him from rising? Or like, maybe, this was the first resurrection appearance to which they'd have to witness, so they'd better get a good look? Okay, well, maybe all those things come into play a bit.

But it's more than that!!! He shows them His hands and side because those wounds are what made for the peace that He spoke unto them.

It's all connected.
The peace cannot BE without the wounds.
(I just think this is SO cool !!!!)

Green Drink

Whole-food vitamins seem to me to be a much better way to get supplemental nutrients into a body than using the chemical vitamins so often found in a drug-store aisle. Problem is, whole-food vitamins are not cheap (as seen by this example). I've seen price-tags of $80-120 per month per person. The cheapest I've seen is at Basics where I could get a month's worth for one person for $40 ($32 on Super-Tuesday). That's just totally out of our price range, no matter how wondrous the testimonials are as to the health benefits!

Instead of whole-food vitamins, I make green drink. It's basically the whole-food vitamins without the capsule wrapped around it. I could theoretically put the green-drink powder into capsules, but I am just waaaaay too lazy for that! So instead, I drink what my loving children fondly (or not so fondly) refer to as "pond scum."


A recipe for Green Drink is one pound each of:
alfalfa powder
wheatgrass powder
beet root powder
barley grass powder
spirulina
nutritional yeast (or catnip powder)

I prefer to make Super Green Drink,
one pound each of:
blue-green algae powder
spinach leaf powder
chlorella powder
rosehips powder
orange peel
lemon peel
alfalfa powder
wheatgrass powder
beet root powder
barley grass powder
spirulina
nutritional yeast (or catnip powder).

Yes, this is a mixture consisting mostly of grasses and algaes. Hence the term "pond scum."

The ingredients are mixed in equal amounts (by weight). Store covered, in a cool dark place, in a glass or plastic container. Combine a cup of cool water with a heaping tablespoon of powder. It's easiest to mix it if you use a glass jar with a screw-on lid, and shake it vigorously. One glass daily provides more nutrition than you'd get from your typical over-the-counter vitamin pill.

When I first started drinking it, it tasted very very GREEN. So I started by mixing a teaspoon instead of a tablespoon. And sometimes I added an ounce of orange juice. But eventually I got to where I could drink it. It's not exactly good. But last time I mixed up a batch, it was $7/pound, which is a pittance compared to the handy-dandy whole-food vitamins that come in capsules so as to hide the greenness from your tastebuds.

In case you're interested, I buy my powders from AmeriHerb. A catalog is available by calling 1-800-267-6141.

Friendship Sunday

Last month, a synodical representative met with the members of our church to discuss the difficult situation in which we find ourselves [money trouble]. Pastor X advised that we need to serve more cookies and donuts, have more potlucks, invite people to dinner in our homes, and call people by their first name repeatedly. That will show friendliness and people will flock to our church. More people would mean more offerings. Our money problems will be solved. When attendance at Bible class was suggested as a possible beginning to dealing with our problems, that solution was not embraced.

To be fair to Pastor X, follow-up conversations indicated that he didn't fully realize that that was pretty much all he said during the meeting, and that he actually does think there's more to be said. (You know how sometimes you think things but they don't actually make it all the way out your mouth?) Also, in the intervening weeks, he's come to realize that the situation is a little more complex than he suspected on the night he first met with the congregation.

One of the guys at church has taken to heart the advice about friendliness. So he has planned a Friendship Sunday. Coffee and donuts will pre-empt the second half of Sunday School that day. Today I read in Luther (page 384 of Day By Day We Magnify Thee) this quote:

The Word and doctrine will create Christian unity or fellowship. Where they reign all else will follow. Where they are not no concord will ever abide. Therefore do not talk to me about love and friendship, if that means breaking with the Word, or the faith -- for the Gospel does not say love brings eternal life, God's grace, and all heavenly treasures, but the Word.

Tomatoes

Our area had a hard frost on September 14. My tomatoes made it through. Here it is, six weeks later, and I'm still getting fresh garden tomatoes. Not in abundance, but still enjoying a few here and there.

But they say you're not supposed to store tomatoes in the fridge. Outdoors overnight, it's refrigerator temperature. I'm wondering if that's going to be bad for the fruit.

Heresy

We distracted ourselves from life and did something totally uncharacteristic tonight. We just up and went to a play. I wanted so desperately to go back to APT to see Merchant of Venice again, but we couldn't fit in another visit before the end of the season. However, Merchant was the show they took on the road this year. So we went to tonight's play. Even though we had to buy tickets [gasp!]. But it was worth it! Annnnd we ended up in the spit-zone (aka, front row). Wow!

There were a lot of lines I wanted to come home and look up. One was from Bassanio. He was trying to decide which choice to make. (For those of you who don't know the story, it was kinda sorta like the girl he loved was behind "Let's Make a Deal" Door#1, Door#2, or Door #3.) To help him decide whether to choose the gorgeous option, the very nice option, or the outwardly ugly option, he mused on two analogies: one from law, the other from religion. What was duh!-factor obvious to Bassanio was something we today are suckers for buying into.

In religion, what damned error, but some sober brow will bless it and approve it with a text, hiding the grossness with fair ornament?

Ain't THAT the truth?!? Gussy-up heresy and we think it's pretty.

Depression-Era Mentality

They say that people that lived through the Great Depression learned to make do, but that for decades afterward it had an effect on the way they viewed possessions and frugality. But I think I've developed that depression-era mentality. I had to be in the mall today (to pick up a free item designed to entice us into the store to spend money) and was really rather offended by all the consumerism, the cookie store, the food court, all the clothes and shoes and jewelry and technological devices. Last week when I did paper route, I was offended by the amount of Halloween decorations out. Not because of the gore, but because of the sheer amount of dollars spent on something as frivolous as Halloween decorations. This does not set well with me that I think this: I'm too much the free-enterprise, conservative believer-in-capitalism to have these viewpoints. But there are so many things like that. I simply cannot comprehend that people have enough money to spend $20/week/child on music lessons. I simply cannot comprehend that some families do Disneyland every year. It's beyond me that I know people with antique cars or sports cars that they have just for fun. I am dumbfounded by the socializing at a bar (with $5 drinks) at pastors' conferences.

Weird thing is that I don't resent people for what they have. I just feel like such a foreigner, such a misfit, such a freak.

And I'm not sure what to do about decluttering. I'm afraid that sometimes I want to take things to Goodwill that anybody else would consider to be complete garbage, whereas I'm thinking there's still some good use left in something. When people give us hand-me-downs (like school workbooks that are 2/3 used already) I feel obliged to make use of them. When you simply cannot take the risk that you might have to buy a replacement for something 2-3 years down the road, it's very hard to let go of Stuff.

A friend was home on leave from Afghanistan. His mom told how the family attended a wedding, and her son was just kinda shocked by the amount that was spent on the wedding and reception. He knew what it could've done for the kids and the families where he was stationed over there. And to some extent I agree. Yet I think it's perfectly reasonable that people enjoy the blessings God provides. In our family we have some indulgences (DSL for the computer, and rental DVDs) that aren't necessary but that we enjoy.

It's one thing to be frugal when you have no choice. What I'm seeing in myself (and what kind of worries me) is that I'm not going to be able to let go of this. If I should someday have a decent income, I don't think it will be possible for me to spend it on clothes or interior decorating or high-quality appliances. When a whole generation of people had this depression-era mentality, people understood each other's hang-up. But for somebody my age to think like this, that just makes me a complete misfit.

Youth Group Poll

I assume most homeschooling families would respond in the same way I would. But I'm not sure about non-homeschooling families.

Would you send your kids to a youth group where the leader attends church several times a year and where the pastor would not be allowed to be involved?

His Memory

Once upon a time we were at a bed-n-breakfast, and Dr Scaer was there too. At breakfast, he was politely making conversation and asked about our homeschooling. Somehow I got on a roll and ended up talking about how great it is that kids can educate themselves and might not even need college. Suddenly I gasped, realizing I was denigrating the necessity of college to a man who has spent most of his life as a professor. Oooops!

A few years later we were attending the symposium on the Lutheran Confessions at Fort Wayne. Being a TLH family, we had to blunder our way through unfamiliar prayer services in chapel for the first part of the week. But on the final day of the symposium, prayers were
matins from TLH,
Psalm 98 chanted from the back of the hymnal,
and hymn 132 "O God of God, O Light of Light."

Now, it so happens that we have memorized all those things. And it so happens that Dr Scaer came and sat down next to us in chapel that day. With my 16-yr-old son between me and the good doctor, we said/sang our prayers without crackin' the book.

After chapel, Dr Scaer suggested that the reason "you homeschoolers" have kids who've memorized so much of the hymnal is because we've failed to teach them to read. He suggested that it might be easier to teach them to read before they're 20 than to teach them to memorize the whole hymnal and psalter.

zinnnnnnng!

High School Musical

A week and a half ago, Disney's High School Musical arrived at our house as part of our Blockbuster subscription. It's been watched over a dozen times -- probably closer to 20 times. Some of the song-and-dance scenes have been played repeatedly throughout the day.

I'm not sure why we became so crazy over this movie. But we have! It's light. It's fun. It's catchy. And we just keep playing it over and over. It's not exactly like it needs your full attention when it's on. So it plays in the background, and we dance around the kitchen while sauteeing veggies and singing the songs, and other such nonsense.

We really like Chad (the hero's best friend) because he looks so much like Patchy ... except for the hair. Jane has a picture of him: Patrick is the one in the brown shirt.

The movie made me wonder why we do surgery on VCFS kids who have velo-pharyngeal insufficiency (in other words, they talk really really nasally). Three of the four lead singers in the movie do that baby-talky nasal singing. It's pretty obnoxious. But we still love the show and the songs! Maybe if VCFS kids didn't have their cleft palates fixed, they too could grow up to be famous singers!

I hope my kids don't think that high school is really like they show in the movie. Those kids are never in class. They walk around the school freely, without passes from the teachers. They come and go. They socialize all day long.

With what we hear about overcrowded high schools, and how the school has to run some classes in closets and hallways, it was a crack-up to see empty rooms available for kids to hang out in.

We are dying to try making creme brulee! "It's really satisfying," says Zeke. But I keep forgetting to skim the cream off my milk. Maybe I'll just have to buy some cream. We've web-browsed for recipes. I think we're going to have to put the dessert under the broiler, so that means we'll need a metal pan. We think we're coming up with a way to fake our way through the lack of equipment for this recipe.

The main thing I noticed about this movie was how different it was from Grease. So many people told me that it was like Grease. There was one main thing I hated about Grease, though. The message was to change yourself so that the guy (or girl) would like you. In Grease, the wholesome girl became sleazy to attract the guy she liked. It seemed to me that, at the end of the movie, I always got the message to "sell out who you are so you will find friends." And that's the exact opposite of the message of High School Musical. Personally, I think high school IS (and will remain) the place where everybody is supposed to stay in their own groups, their own cliques, and stick to their "own stuff" (not playing a cello or doing hip-hop dancing, unless that is what Your Group does). Nevertheless, the movie's message is that we should accept diversity and work together, as shown by one athlete who bakes, another athlete who sings, a skateboarder who plays cello, and one of the geeky smart girls who sings too.

And Rachel, I'm not sure whether you should get this for Dad for Christmas. I'm not sure he can send it back to Blockbuster without buying a copy for himself right away. Of course, he did say yesterday that he thinks he's had his fill and could consider returning it now for the next movie on the list.

House Blessing

There were two house blessings on Thursday. Pastor forgot to make handouts for us to follow along. So theoretically we weren't supposed to be speaking the psalm. But when he said, "I lift up my eyes to the hills," we forgot that we weren't praying the psalm responsively. But the second half of the verse came out in a variety of Bible translations. That was a shame, because it seemed like most of us had memorized Psalm 121.

Same thing happened with the hymn. We knew "O Blest the House." But in the Pastoral Care Companion it was the LSB version instead of the TLH version. About a month ago, that hymn was the hymn-of-the-week (to go with the catechism portion for the Fourth Commandment). So for the hymn too, Pastor had to cut it off early (only two stanzas) because we no longer all know the same words and can no longer sing our hymns together without our noses in the book.

I find this very sad.

Buzzwords

"We have personally selected a small group of alumni to participate in the 'listening process'" for an "initiative" whereby "the Board of Regents will be seeking greater alumni involvement," because we "are committed to reconnecting and re-engaging with our beloved and important alumni." The Board "recently began articulating a long-term strategic vision for further stability and growth." This was in a letter that I received last week. Do I believe that I have been personally selected as part of a small group of alumni? How about you other grads of my college? Were you too personally selected as part of this elite group?

One of the men at church is head of the board of stewards. He is excited about three "new initiatives."

Whenever I see a church with a "mission statement," I become suspicious.

I like big words. I do! I have a hard time with sign language because the vocabulary is smaller than English, and I like finding just the right word, a more precise word than some generalized word. But buzzwords drive me bonkers! Why can't they just speak English? Plain simple English? Would it be too demeaning to say, "We have a new plan"? What is "strategic vision" anyway? And why do I always think that someone who talks that way is trying to schnooker impress me?

TLH 144

Much of "Jesus, Grant That Balm and Healing" is about avoiding temptation or overcoming temptation by meditation upon His cross and suffering and the love that motivated Him to rescue us. But recently I was struck by the second stanza.

Should some lust or sharp temptation
Prove too strong for flesh and blood,
Let me think upon Thy Passion,
And the breach is soon made good.

I always thought that meant that we could think about what Jesus has done for us and avoid falling into sin. And it is true that other spots in the song allude to such things. (At least, in English that's how it comes out.)

But I think this part of the hymn isn't talking about avoiding it. Like it says, the temptation proved "too strong." So even then, even when we succumb to the temptation, the solution is still to "think upon Thy Passion." The breach between what God demands and what we actually perform, that breach is made good by hearing the forgiveness of sins.

Cost Cutting

There are some money problems at church. A survey was sent out (I'm not sure by whom) to the members of the congregation, asking for suggestions. One helpful soul submitted a list of cost-cutting measures. One was to turn the lights off at church. (During the services? They're already off the rest of the time.) Another was to lower the thermostat at the parsonage during winter. (Depending on the amount of wind, daytime temps fluctuate from 62-65 degrees, and it runs 48-56 during the night.)

But there was one that is beyond my understanding. We could save money on wine* if we had communion only twice a month.

* Footnote: Doing so would save 15L per year.

Tagged (Sevens)

The tag-game running around [ha ha!] the blogs these days is to tell seven true things about yourself. Laura and Melynda and an amusing one tagged me. And now I
1) have to think of seven things, (ooooh, the brain strain!) and
2) come up with taggees. It seems like most of the homeschoolers have been tagged, so I'm going try tagging Kirken and Emily and Erin, and the youngsters: Liz, Anthea, Katie, Rachel, Cassie. (Shhhh. 3+5=7. Shhhhh. Yes, it does. This is a tag meme about sevens. I can do the New Math if I wanna!!!)


The rules of this are:
1. Link the person who has tagged you.
2. Tell seven true things about yourself.
3. Tag seven new people.
4. Leave a message with the person you have tagged so they know about it.


1) I cannot remember the color of my toothbrush. Old age and fading memory make it hard enough to figure out which toothbrush is mine. Buuut having to keep track of TWO toothbrushes, annnd having their colors change every six months (luck of the draw in what the dental hygienist hands me in my goodie-bag), that's just too much. So I have a pony-tail band wrapped around the handle of one toothbrush to distinguish. On the other, I've marked my initial with a black Sharpie, but I have to re-ink the initial every few weeks.

2) I have friends (couples and widows) and family members who are DOWNsizing to retirement condos larger than the house I live in with five other people. And I didn't even think our house was that small.

3) The first time I got called "ma'am" was in 7th or 8th grade. Because I was so tall, the saleslady knew that no kid could be possibly that height, so I was called "ma'am" instead of "miss" or "hey, kid." I suppose "freaky tall-person" may have worked just as well.

4) I don't recall ever hanging pictures of boys in my bedroom as a teen. If that memory is correct (which is definitely not a sure thing -- see item #1), then my first "pin-up boy" was a picture of David Scaer from a CTS calendar about 4-5 years ago. I liked that lively picture so much that I didn't change the month on the calendar for the rest of the year, and I lobbied to get that particular classroom-photo used in one of his books. (I doubt my begging worked, though.)

5. I used to be a gymnast. It is hard for a very very tall person (see item #3) to fit the required number of backflips into a pass on the diagonal of the floor-exercise mat, without falling off the edge of the mat and crashing into the spectators' seats. And you had to screw and screw and screw the knobs forEVER to adjust the parallel bars to be big enough (far apart enough and high enough) for me to circle the bar without smashing my head into the other bar or the floor.

6. I'm more used to white noise than I thought. I had to sleep at a friend's house the other night. They have bedrooms upstairs. The noise of the quietness throbbed loudly. No refrigerator motor cycling. No noise of dehumidifiers running in the basement. No cats thumping through the house. No traffic passing. No computer fans. Even the sound of constant wind was missing.

7. I don't know how to relax and play any more. Except by watching tv. I only know how to work feverishly. This is not a good thing.

Brain

If somebody ran a marathon on Saturday, it'd be goofy to try to go cut and haul firewood the next day. If somebody had been sick and feverish for a few days, nobody would expect them to pop up and dive into housework. Then why am I foolish enough to tax my brain to the uttermost, wear myself out, and expect myself to be able to think today? I keep thinking that brains are different from muscles, though. Maybe... no reasonably intelligent brain would expect an exhausted brain to be able to teach physics, or even figure out what to make for dinner. Ah, but maybe I've pinpointed the problem -- an exhausted brain may be incapable of analyzing the self-exhaustedness of itself?

I'm gonna go make pizza.
I bet I'll have a hard time figuring out how high I should set the temp on the oven.

Philip's Car

I was awakened this morning at 6:30 by the phone ringing. Philip was stranded and needed rescue.

When he was car-hunting, it seemed to me like he didn't have enough money to buy an okay car. When Gary and I were younger, drivable used cars could be had for $700-1500. It's not like that anymore. Well, he found a car that looked pretty decent for $2500. My thought was that, given the good shape of the body and the dependability of Toyotas, he was probably getting a good deal... well, as good a deal as one can expect if you're not going to spend $7000 on a used car. He spent money on new tires and new brakes, and was good to go.

For a month.
Then he needed a new engine.
Still... even with the new engine, we know that he's spent less than he might've, has a car with a "new" engine (only 80,000 miles on it), has lower insurance premiums because it's an older vehicle. The only thing we worried about was if there should be a drunk driver or other problem, and having the car totaled-out at a value which the insurance company would've priced too low. However, even that has an up-side. The car dealership said that our receipts showing a new engine and new tires could be used to prove a higher-than-Blue-Book value to the car, should there be an accident.

One week after getting the car back, one week after no longer shuffling cars between us to get everybody to work at the right time, and there was an unavoidable road hazard on his way to work. Ripped the exhaust system and catalytic converter from the undercarriage. So today we got to learn about tow-trucks and calling the police and stuff like that. There were really other things I would've preferred to do than learn those lessons.

Musing on John 13:2-3

And supper being ended, the devil having already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself.

It's probably stupid to even attempt a blog-post. I've attempted to do 150 pages of editing theology in the last 24 hours (on only 4 hours sleep), so my brain is fried big-time. And here I am, musing....

Bible class this morning was on John 13. Pastor was talking about the Father having given all things into Jesus' hands. He talked about how Adam was given dominion over all things. But Adam used his authority and his dominion to take for himself what God had not given. Jesus, on the other hand, had all things from the Father, and did not use them for Himself. What motivated Him to die was "His great love for the Father and for me and other sinners."

Pastor was saying great stuff, but on little sleep and with brain-fry I wasn't picking it up very well. Besides, I was distracted. He keeps telling us that things in the Bible (true and historic though they be) are not there merely for historical information. So why is that business about Judas there, anyhow??

So when Pastor started talking about "all things," it made me wonder. The first Adam betrayed "all things" God had put into his hand and under his dominion. Throughout all of history, man continued to squander the good gifts of God. Here is Judas, betraying not only the almighty God [think on that for a moment, the almighty God being sold, but that's an aside], but betraying His love. And here is the true Man, the "Adam" who poured out Himself, even though He had "all things" temporal, as well as "all things" including communion with the Father. His version of power and authority is sacrificing Himself to be able to give us (part of "all things") back to the Father.

Thinking Like a Scanner

With the editing I'm doing right now, most of the articles have been previously published. So there's not as much stress on the brain to sort through commas and dangling modifiers and subordinate clauses. However, there are some amusing spots. Because some of the articles have been scanned into the computer, the computer didn't always translate the "picture" of the words on the page into the correct electronic bits.

There are easy mistakes. "Not" for "nor." "Or" in the place of "of." "Tlie" instead of "the." A couple of places it said "all then are" instead of "all men are."

But there was "come to teens with" which should've been "come to terms with."

"We are entitled to Hip blessings" instead of "His blessings."

So sometimes I have to think about how a scanner might "see" the letters in a word, particularly if there might be a stray spot on the paper, or a place where the ink wasn't fully laid down on the original page. The one that confused me was "one-tittle justification." I didn't know what "one-tittle justification" was. I figured I was just dumb, and it was some theological phrase I was unaware of. But then Pastor asked me what "one-tittle justification was." Hey! Not fair! He's supposed to know these theological terms! Huh? Maybe it's not a theological phrase? Hmmmm. Now what? Thinking like a scanner, though, I finally figured out it was "one-time justification." Suddenly, the whole sentence made sense. And I'm still laughin' over that one! (Although "Hip" blessings from God is worth a giggle too!)

Bubbly, Bouncy Joy

I had been told that I wasn't going to be working on the second volume of CCA's Scaer book because I had my hands full of other projects. After a little moping last month over missing out on the fun, I resigned myself to reading the book when it's all finished and done and published. But because of pressing deadlines, on Thursday I got told that I get to look part of it over. Yeehaw! This weekend I had plans that pretty much got overridden for editing reasons, but oh, the articles are so great!!

Just in what I've looked at so far, there's one article on the ascension that's presented in a way that I hadn't previously thought of. There's an article on the problem with women's ordination, but without simply resorting to "the law says it's wrong, so we can't do it." There's an article on using masculine names for God. There's an article on the differences between the Protestants and the Lutherans, and how it's not "just about the Sacraments" but how the differences reveal what we think about God and who He is and what He has done. One article delves into what confirmation is and why we have it. I noticed one article is entitled "Preaching Sanctification" and that should prove intriguing, to be sure!

Now I should get off the computer, and grab my red pen and my dictionary again, and get back to my playtime. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy!

Lay-Led Bible Class

If the pastor is the "man" and the congregation is the "bride," then IF there were to be a lay-led Bible class, would it matter whether the teacher was a man or a woman? Because laymen (both men and women) are to be receiving from the pastor, not usurping his place as teacher. Maybe the appearance of it makes a difference, though??

Today's Stuff

Instead of John 13 this morning, we heard about Pastor's trip to Sweden. So we talked about the Church in a way far different from what we usually do in Thursday morning Bible class.

Doctor diagnosed my arm pain as bursitis and a rotator-cuff problem. Part of the treatment is to not reach or stretch with my left arm. Easier said than done. And how much sitting still with an ice pack can be squeezed into busy days?

Maggie had to skip her beloved swimming class today because of coming down with a cold.

At church last night, the second verse of the epistle struck me. "To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called saints...." Paul says the folks at Corinth are sanctified. Not "in the process of." Not "will be." But "are." The folks at CORINTH, the place which Pastor says always comforts him because, if the Corinthians are called saints, then surely his church can be called saints too. If this sentence in the very start of 1 Corinthians is for real, then maybe we LCMSers don't exactly use the word "sanctification" in accord with how the Bible uses it.

Routine

Gary's desktop computer died. He's feeling stuck.

As we discussed this, we began to realize the problem is the change in routine.

I spent the whole month of September scolding myself for being distraught over the water and fuel problems. I kept trying to get a grip on myself, tell myself how good I have it, quit doing the pity-party routine, and just DO what needed to be done (like boiling water next door in stockpots and carrying it over here).

But I just couldn't seem to do it.

When we finally had both fuel and water, then I finally was capable of cleaning the house. Now, WHY couldn't I vacuum the floor or dust the horizontal surfaces just because there was no water or propane? That's just stupid. But I couldn't. WHY did I have such a hard time doing algebra or physics with kids? Those things certainly aren't dependent on fuel and water. And then there were all the self-scoldings over how I have electricity and so many more conveniences than did women on the prairie 150 years ago. How wussy am I, anyhow?

But it's the brain-strain in doing things in a way that is not routine. So much of our life is on auto-pilot. For example, normally we don't put hardly any thought into brushing our teeth. But if we have to think of taking a walk next-door to the place where there's plumbing, or going outdoors to spit on the lawn and taking a cup of water out there with you, it just takes thinking about it. Auto-pilot isn't good enough. Another example is doing laundry. If you can't just turn a knob and push a button, you have to think about it. You have to figure out if you can wash this load in cold, or you have to boil water for it. And then you have to figure out if you're going to carry that heavy load of water, or find a kid to do it for you, or get out the wagon to bear the weight. None of that is hard stuff. But you have to figure it out. Dozens (or hundreds or thousands) of those tiny little decisions each day just wear out your brain.

I'm even wondering at the moment how much this change of routine complicates other life changes. Having a baby, or sending children off to school for the first time (be they kindergarteners or 18-yr-olds who were homeschooled all along previously), or having hubby retire and come home, or starting a job. Some of those things are joyous life changes, some have grief and loss mixed in. But they all entail a change of routine. Even widowhood, which has copious amounts of grief in one's loss, as well as not having your sweetheart there to see you through it (like he'd seen you through all your previous heartaches), is further complicated by all the little decisions about the change in daily routine.

Right now, I'm ready for some living life on auto-pilot. And if Gary decides to get another computer, that will put one small section of his life back on auto-pilot too.

Relief

Been a little stressed. (Ha! What an understatement!) Our health insurance is due to be terminated, retroactive to May 31, if the past-due premiums are not received by this Sunday. This would've left us not only with the past bills, but also with a lapse in coverage which would've meant pre-existing conditions (such as heart defects, among others) would not have health coverage for a significant period of time. Thanks to generous gifts by saints throughout the Church, money was donated to cover the bill. Our congregational treasurer finally got a check written last Saturday. Given the state of our snail-mail sometimes, we were leery of the payment arriving on time. So we next-day-aired it. And I just received confirmation that the check arrived at Concordia Plan's mailbox. It is not yet in their possession, but it's waiting to be picked-up. WHEW!!! This is a HUGE weight off my mind!

Big Boys, Big Toys

They're building a huge new subdivision in the village near us. It is adjacent to Andrew's paper route, and we've been watching the piles of rock, the new roads, the machinery, etc. But this morning when we went to town for paper routes, they were right there, where I drive and where I have to walk for my route and where Andrew has to walk.

Oh, the coolness of it all! The huge graders and the huge backhoes and all these other dirt-movers that I don't know the names of! They're massive! And they're moving huge piles of dirt and rocks! (And this is probably bad because they're turning perfectly decent farmland into houses with yards that are going to be overly spacious.) It is fascinating to watch!

Because of the road being entirely ripped to pieces, I had to park and walk quite a ways to the apartment building to deliver papers. I passed so many men out there ogling! LOL! It was so cute! Men all over the neighborhood, standing outside, some with cameras, all of them watching the life-sized Tonka trucks in the massive sandbox!

New Words in the Hymnal

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

As I've continued to struggle with the changes to the hymns I've memorized, Pastor has continued to remind me that the truth of the absolution is always the same. He has continued to remind me that it's okay if the words presenting that truth change, much like the sermon changes from week to week.

There is a need for keeping the words the same so that we can hang onto them and learn them by heart. Every time I hear pastors and church musicians extol Christians of past generations for the vast number of hymns they sang by heart, I can't help but think that we can't do that today because the powers-that-be keep changing the words on us! But I am trying to focus on what Pastor says about having a balance between keeping the words the same (learning them by heart) and having the fresh explanations that fit the times (just as Pastor's words in Bible class change each week, even though the message stays the same).

Gary and I are reading Christopher Boyd Brown's Singing the Gospel. On page 11 is an interesting statement. Though the CONTENTS of 16th-century hymnals were related to the public use of the hymns in worship, the BOOKS themselves were for the most part not intended for such use, either by professional musicians and clergy or by the laity. So what is that all about? In context, it sounds to me like people learned their hymns at home, sang them in family worship, and then those hymns were also used during the Divine Service. But maybe that's just what I imagine, as I keep stumbling over the hymns during church, and can no longer sing my way through the dishes-washing and the laundry-folding and veggie-chopping.

Antidote to Parfume d'Skunk

I tried really hard not to TOUCH ANYTHING as I disposed of his poor little lawn-wreckin' body. But it didn't work. When I came in from the cornfield, Paul's nose wrinkled. I was pretty sure it was only on my hands, and I'd been careful to open doors with my wrists or elbows instead of hands. I tried the peroxide cure, and it worked fabulously. I didn't need a whole batch just for hand-washing, so I used

half a cereal-bowl of hydrogen peroxide
about a Tablespoon of baking soda
a tiny squirt of Dawn dish soap.

Boy, it stings the eczema, but it definitely gets rid of skunk smell!

With a nice strong breeze today, and with the carcass downwind, I thought the smell was gone. Apparently we're desensitized. The UPS man just showed up with a package ... and asked about skunk in the yard. Oh well......

Skunk Death

Everybody kept asking us, "So if you do catch a skunk, what are you gonna do with him?" Uhhhhh.... Kill him? How? Dunno.

We had a plan. Some of the websites said you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. So we did what many websites suggested: I held a big blanket in front of me, blocking the skunk's sight of me, walked up to the cage, and draped the blanket gently over the trap. Worked great. Didn't alarm the skunk at all.

We had tubes attached to the cage. We covered the trap with plastic, and put the hoses into the end of the tailpipe of the car. Some websites assured us that you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. HA! We gassed him for over an hour, and he wasn't dying.

Well, what else could we try? Poison? The only thing we had was antifreeze. We tried pouring that into the cage, but he didn't bother with it. Or didn't get enough to hurt him.

How do you kill things? We considered possibilities we'd seen on murder-mystery tv shows. Carbon monoxide didn't work. So suffocation wouldn't work either. We didn't really want to get close enough to give him a plate of poison hidden in hamburger. We didn't want to get close enough to give him a mallet to the head. We had nothing big enough and deep enough to drown him in. We thought about dragging the trap way out back and letting him starve to death. Besides not being very humane, it probably wouldn't have worked since skunks semi-hibernate, and he probably could've gone a long long time before starving to death. Didn't want to shoot him because we didn't want to wake the neighbors in the wee hours of the morning, and didn't particularly want to get close enough to have good aim through the bars of the cage. But seeing no other options, the gun became the best-looking option.

He'd ripped holes in the blanket that covered the trap. He'd pulled the plastic through the blanket-holes. So Gary stuck the point of the air-rifle through the blanket-hole where we could see some black fur, and shot blindly. Then we got odor and ran for the house. Five or ten minutes later, we went out to see what had happened. No rustling in the cage. When the cage was shaken, no wiggling. So he was dead. And the smell wasn't too bad because most of it was contained in the cage. (The holey blanket will go in the dumpster or get burned.)

Turned out that he was one smart skunk about the carbon monoxide. Not only did he manage to get rid of the plastic cover, but he pulled it inside the cage and used it to make a barrier between him and the hoses carrying the deadly gas. AND the little booger kept sticking his nose out the holes he'd chewed in the heavy blanket.

So now, when the neighbors ask "What do you DO with a skunk if you catch him?" we have a plethora of possibilities. Most of which do not work! Next time we'll go straight for an old mattress pad or blanket, and the gun.

Premiere Skunk Bait

For a week of being tempted with tantalizing tuna, and a delicious side dish of wormy apples, the skunk had refused to bite.

Last night we changed bait. Suckered him right into the trap on the very first try! Purina Cat Chow NATURALS Plus Vitamins and Minerals.

Don't Be Hasty

When a pastor rushes through the liturgy, speaking rapidly and maybe even deleting parts of the Service, what message is given to the people? That this is something to "get through." Something that takes second place to whatever comes next. If the words we hear in church actually are the most important thing in the universe -- the way we know God -- why are we in such a hurry to get done with it? Would it be too time-consuming if we had a little time to meditate on the words we pray as we say them or hear them?

Post Office CLosed

ARRRRGH! The most important thing I had to do today (actually, the most important thing I had to do for the whole week, maybe for the month) was to next-day-air a critical piece of mail. When I got to the post office this morning, I found they were closed for Columbus Day. Getting there tomorrow will be okay, but I really wanted that job done, taken care of, finished, completed, concluded. And it's not now.

Impenitence

While jogging this morning (and listening to a tape of an old sermon) I heard such a good definition of impenitence. "The refusal to believe what God's law says about you, a sinner."

According to that, impenitence would include those who poo-poo God's law, saying that it's old-fashioned or out-dated.

According to that, impenitence would include those who know that something is wrong, but do it anyway because "everybody does it."

According to that, impenitence would include those who know their sin and even "regret" their sin, but callously excuse it with a sing-songy, "Oh, well, God forgives me, so it doesn't really matter."

Impenitence: refusing to believe the condemnation that is due you for your sin.

Lilacs

This is some funky weather we're having. I know lots of people are wishing for the crisp cool days of autumn. But I kinda like summer. I'm not minding these days in the 80s and even topping 90. (I'm not so fond of the hyper-abundance of beetles that accompanies the warmth, but hey, they'd be bad with the harvesting going on anyway.)

But the super-weirdness is that one of my lilacs has bloomed. It's October. Lilacs bloom in May. Didn't the shrub read the instruction manual?? They're little blooms, about the size of carnations. I hope this doesn't do in next May's blossoms.

News Flash (Funny!)

Today's paper had a story about sex-segregated classrooms in the local middle school. The story was well done, enjoyable to read, and brought up some good points regarding education.

But one paragraph made us all bust a gut laughing:
"Teachers are working on a theory that boys are different from girls at this age, different in their interests, maturity, and in what teaching techniques will help them learn."

It's a THEORY, eh?

Survival of the Fittest

After listening to some of the presentations yesterday on medical care for the handicapped, something became apparent. A huge irony.

There is one group of people in our society who promotes evolution. As much as possible, they ensure that "intelligent design" is not allowed in schools. They ridicule those who believe in creation. They talk about things that happened millions (or billions) of years ago. And yet, these are often the same people who suggest that the government [that is, the taxpayers] fund massively expensive programs to fund health care and social programs for those who are not the "fittest."

Now, I am not saying I'm against expensive surgery and cures. My mom, my aunt, and my daughter all benefited from medical technology that was not cheap nor simple. But it seems odd that those who believe in "the survival of the fittest" would also be the ones who want to fund programs to keep alive those who would've otherwise died. To be intellectually consistent, shouldn't they be wishing for the needy and the handicapped to be denied medical treatment, so as to "cleanse the gene pool"?

Ah, but I guess in some other countries, the liberals have already gotten to that point.

Evolution

There's the stark bald theory of evolution as it impacts the origin of the universe and where Man came from. But there are many corollaries to the theory of evolution. Whenever we read about the "invention" of writing, or the "invention" of farming, or the "invention" of metal tools, those ideas about ancient civilization have grown out of the idea that man evolves, that society evolves, that civilization improves and grows and advances.

Granted, there was a serious setback to technology when the Flood destroyed everything but those eight people and the animals on the ark. But as the people began to rebuild their civilization and their technology, they were not dummies "discovering" things, but smart people who were starting from scratch in a mess of a world.

Psalm 34: 18

The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
and saves such as have a contrite spirit.

David wrote this before he was king, when he was on the lam, pretending to be insane. Later, after the incident with Uriah and Bathsheba, he wrote, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and contrite heart, o God, Thou wilt not despise."

So even David the Psalmist had his words and his hymnody shaped by the hymns he had previously learned by heart.

Tiara

For Anna, Margaret, Rachel, and Anthea...

At the moment, Princess Diaries is playing on the TV. A quote from teenage Mia, who has just found out that she's a princess:

"As if I'm not enough of a freak already, let's just add a tiara!"

So, any rebuttals, dear ones? LOL!

Our Skunk

Well, he's smart enough to hang out VERY close to the house at 4 in the morning. Too close for Gary to feel comfortable using a gun.

And he's smart enough to hang out right next to the live-trap, digging up grubs, and leaving piles of black poop right by the trap, but eschewing the delicious tuna inside the trap.

Rotten skunk.

Angry

This morning I had plans to go to a presentation at Children's Hospital put on by the social workers. It was about two things concerning services provided to special-needs kids. First, transitioning from children's services to adult services. Second, the changes in the way the State is administering the funds and overseeing how the money is spent. We're not getting any government services, but the day will come when an uninsurable child is no longer covered by her daddy's health insurance. So I wanted to hear about what changes are in the offing.

It was pretty much a waste of time. The speakers referred only to the new services available in some counties -- places I do not live. But there was the one comment that infuriated me.

A woman was explaining the problem with long waiting lists for obtaining day care, or group homes, or any of the other services people wish to obtain. "They have twelve-year waiting lists for these services. Now, you certainly don't want your child spending that twelve years waiting in YOUR home, watching Oprah all day. They have a right to their own apartment."

Granted, I don't want my kid watching Oprah all day. Or at all. Or watching anything (no matter how good) ALL day.

But to object to having your own child in your home? They turn 18, and they're supposed to be kicked out the door. Who cares that a special-needs (dare I say the naughty word "handicapped"?) child may take longer to grow up? Who cares that their special needs may require [ummmmmmm.....] special allowances? Nope nope nope. We have our own lives to live, and the government better be taking care of this adult-child because I'm ready to wash my hands of it and get on with my life.

Gag.

What the Holy Spirit Does

From the Cantate Gospel:
I will send [the Helper] to you. And when He has come, He will convict the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment. (John 16:7-11)

From the Exaudi Gospel:
But when the Helper comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify of Me. (John 15:26)


When the Holy Spirit comes, what does He do? Convict the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment? Or testify of Jesus? Are those two distinct jobs? Or are they the SAME thing? Could it be that the way the Holy Ghost convicts the world is by testifying to what Jesus has done?




Cantate = fourth Sunday after Easter
Exaudi = sixth Sunday after Easter

Sad Kitty

When women are depressed, they eat chocolate (until they get so depressed that they can't even stomach that). When a cat is depressed, she eats gophers. And mice. And chipmunks. And gophers. Wrong time of year -- there aren't copious amounts of baby birds attempting to learn to fly, so I think I'll go grab me another gopher.

You would not believe my humans (says Athena). They brought a kitten into my house. She has disgusting amounts of energy. She bounces around this place. The people coo and ahhh over her. She drinks out of my water dish and eats out of my bowl. She wants to play with my tail! The indignity of it all! And now that she's growing, she's invading MY outdoor hunting grounds too. Better find another gopher to chow down.

I'll show them! I won't let them love me. I won't cuddle with them on the couch. I won't stay indoors at night. I am just going to stay outside and hunt gophers and assuage my sorry pitiful soul.

And now! Can you believe what they've done now? They keep talking about a skunk. They put tuna [oh, how I luv tuna!] outdoors in a wire box. But I can't get to it. It's locked. But I can smell its delicious tuna-y smell. The last three evenings when I've come in for a quick "toothbrushing" of kibble and a drink of water to carry me through my gopher-hunting night, they won't let me back out again. Something about whether "the trap has been set yet."

I sit at the door and meow. I go up to those slaves and try to show them the way to the door. And they keep saying, "Sorry, you can't go out. We don't want to catch YOU in the trap. The trap is for the skunk. We love you and want you to be safe." What is the meaning of this outrage? Not only did they bring a kitten into my territory, but now they've cut off my means of escape and make me stay indoors all night with the wretched little creature, AND they've taken away my chocolate gophers.



Slave's rebuttal: Maybe we're going to have to take a night off of attempting to catch the skunk. Otherwise the cat may never come indoors again.

City Folks and Kombucha

A blog visitor recently got here by googling "how can I make my kombucha fizzier?" It was really interesting to go back and look at some of the other hits that came up for that question. One in particular was full of all sorts of science information for balancing the yeast and bacteria in the scoby. On the one hand, helpful. But on the other hand, pretty intimidating and complicated if you're a bear of little brain. The site overwhelmed me, and I've been making kombucha for more than three years. Nevertheless, lots of trouble-shooting advice on that site.

A few days later, I was talking to Katie and she said her kombucha just got ickier and ickier as she made a few batches. She ended up throwing out two batches, and finally gave up. Well, guess what? That website had told me the answer. The chlorinated water that is available in city water-pipes has [duh!] chlorine in it. And why does it have chlorine? To kill bacteria! And what is a kombucha mushroom? A scoby: a symbiotic colony of BACTERIA and yeast. So using chlorinated water will slowly kill your bacteria and leave you with way too many yeastie-beasties in your scoby.... which will become a scoy (leaving out the B) and you'll end up with something that is NOT kombucha.

The solution would be to buy distilled water, or use a good water filter. They also say that letting water sit out on the counter in an open container for 24 hours will allow the chlorine to dissipate into the air. Out here in the country, with real water coming out of a real well, and with a nice reverse-osmosis system, I've got water that makes happy kombucha. But if we ever have to shock the well again, I'd better plan on buying water for kombucha for a few months.

(Side note on Site-meter. I've been amazed at the number of visitors who've come recently, looking for information on how to use a juicer to make grape jelly/jam. It's been anywhere from 4-8% of my daily hits for the last few weeks. It's kinda fun to think that writing about your experiment -- and how well it turned out -- can assure other people that it's safe to try the same thing.)

Acts 8:2

Despised and scorned, they sojourned here.
But now, how glorious they appear!
Those martyrs stand,
a priestly band,
God's throne forever near.
So oft, in troubled days gone by,
in anguish they would weep and sigh.
At home, above, the God of love
for aye their tears shall dry.
They now enjoy their Sabbath rest,
the paschal banquet of the blessed:
the Lamb, their Lord, at festal board
Himself is host and guest.


Evil world, I leave thee;
thou canst not deceive me;
thine appeal is vain.
Sin that once did blind me,
Get thee far behind me;
Come not forth again.
Past thy hour, o pride and power;
sinful life, thy bonds I sever,
leave thee now forever.


For those who will ask, TLH 347 (aka LSB 743)
and TLH 656 (which has some similarity to LSB 676).

Is This Logical?

What is a church, anyway?

Can a church get by without a pastor?

According to Augsburg Confession article 5, God gave the preaching office (that is, provided the Gospel and sacraments) so that the Holy Spirit could work through the Word to bring people to faith. According to article 7, we recognize the church by her marks (the Gospel being preached and the sacraments being administered).

So churches need pastors. Of course, there will be times when a church goes without a pastor for a short time. Death takes away pastors. Occasionally a pastor will move to a different congregation. But overall, churches need pastors -- wouldn't you say?

So would it make sense for someone to advise that a church can survive financially only if they get rid of their pastor? How can a church survive without a pastor?

And maybe these ruminations had some effect on today's earlier ruminations regarding the history lessons about those Pilgrims who were running away from the Office of the Ministry (among other gifts ordained by God).

Proposal: A New Sin Tax

We heard on the radio yet another new load of government spending that is to be financed by taxes on cigarettes. It seems a little schizo for the lawmakers to be passing legislation which continually gets closer to prohibiting tobacco altogether, which at the same time needing the tax revenue that comes from smokers.

Pretty soon, the lawmakers are going to have to find a new source of funding as more and more smokers kick the habit.

Maybe what we need is a sin tax on pop.
Think about it.
Soda pop is probably doing more damage to health than cigarettes are.

Or -- if we wanted to get REALLY wild and crazy about the lost revenue due to smokers becoming ex-smokers -- the government could consider curtailing spending.

Pilgrims

Our history reading these days is from the 1580s to the 1630s. So of course we keep coming back to touch on Queen Elizabeth, King James, and Jamestown, as well as what's up with the Separatists who would become the Plimouth Pilgrims.

I tell ya, the whole "ain't it great how they gave us religious freedom" only goes so far with me. On the one hand, yes, I am thankful that I am free to go to a church that teaches what I believe. (Given the weirdness of what I believe and how it's so different from what most Americans believe, I am especially glad for religious freedom: the freedom to have the Sacraments and the liturgy and to take the Bible seriously regarding both sin and grace.)

But then there's the other hand. These people wanted a religion free from the Office of the Holy Ministry. A religion free from the liturgy. A religion free from sacraments. A religion where their leaders did not wear vestments. A religion free from what had been handed down in the church for centuries. For all their disdain of what Christianity offered, they still considered themselves a "religious" people, and even considered themselves "Christian." It would be hard to believe if it weren't for our encountering the same thing today.

Crockpot Lids

Two crockpots in perfectly decently shape. Except for the lids. I hate to think of heating elements that work fine, and a crock that works fine, all going to waste because of broken lids. (One lid had been cracked for over a year, but finally landed in the dumpster in recent months. The other one's lid shattered tonight.)

Is this normal? Is this how crockpots meet their doom? An innocent little flaw like a broken lid?

By the way, I tried looking online to buy a lid. But the cost of replacement and shipping was more than buying a whole new crockpot.

We need a matchmaking service for crockpots whose lids have broken to make marriages with lids whose crocks have broken. Then we could celebrate new life to appliances! More money in our wallets! And less garbage in the landfills!

Self-Esteem

We tell little kids that each and every one of them could grow up to be president. For 3-4 decades we've been telling little girls that they can grow up to "have it all" -- family, career, self-fulfillment, etc. We praise people who "give 110%." (That drives me nuts. It's impossible to give 110%. A price can be 110% of the former price. Population growth can be 110%. But effort expended cannot be more than 100%.)

I realize it is good to set high goals and work for them. But do we set the bar so high in so many areas that our society is creating unreasonable expectations? Have we encouraged too many people to reach for perfection in too many areas of life? There was that news story last week that showed woman have significantly less "happiness" than men. Women are the ones trying to keep the jobs going and the house clean and the children nurtured and the volunteerism coordinated, ad infinitum. But today's women are the ones who were brainwashed as little girls that we could have it all. Men weren't told that. And men tend to be happier than women these days.

Reaching for lofty goals is a good thing. Reaching for unattainable goals is damaging. "Be all that you can be." "Have you done all you can to make it happen?" "Work to the best of your ability." What's sad is that we don't want to admit that this [whatever it is] is "all that I can do." We always think we could do a little more, be a little more organized, be a little more efficient, be a little more hard-working. If we could just do a little more, we know we could make it happen [whatever it is]. But sometimes that's just not possible. Sometimes doing "all you can" isn't enough to change things out of your control.

But thanks to the feminists of the 60s and 70s, few women today can accept that.

Candy Bars

Hey, Sunday's newspaper came with a free sample of a new candy bar from Kellog, and a coupon for a box of them. They're called "Crunchy Nut Sweet & Salty Granola Bars." (Silly children told me they weren't candy bars but granola bars. Silly children didn't read the label for the ingredients and the "nutrition" factoids.) The bar [call it granola, call it candy, call it whatever] tasted amazingly like a Pay Day candy bar. Yum yum yum!!!

And while I'm thinking of candy bars, I've noticed something about Snickers. It seems to me there's a hint of cinnamon in them. The label doesn't indicate cinnamon or spice or any of those vague "catch-all" categories of ingredients. But there's something about that light touch of spiciness that's especially tasty recently.

Pharisees

I keep wondering if the pharisees thought they believed in grace. We recognize that they trusted in their works. But did they recognize that?

Clothesline

Our clotheslines was two years old, and the cotton was getting worn. On top of that, it needed to come down to make room for the backhoe last week.

Andrew (that's-MY-son Andrew) has been waiting for a good day to have the sheets and pajamas washed AND HUNG ON THE LINE. There's something glorious about the perfume of line-dried clothing and sheets. It's so great to crawl into a freshly made bed, in jammies that have that wondrous smell!

Hanging the new clothesline today reminded me of the value of my Klutz Book of Knots. You'd think after learning this knot dozens of times, I could remember it. But no. I always have to take the book outdoors with me to hang new clotheslines. I don't know how I ever managed a clotheslines before I discovered that one-way tightens-only knot.

The Government who Cried "Wolf"

Maggie and the little girl next door were playing. The neighbor asked if Maggie could stay to supper; they were having a small party -- food, drinks, some games and movies. Then she realized that I might misunderstand "drinks." This little 9-yr-old hastened to assure me that they wouldn't be drinking beer and wine, just, y'know, "drinks," not "drinks."

Then she went on to tell me that she is taught at school how bad drinks are. They say if you have even ONE drink, that you'll get sick and end up in the hospital. And that if you have several drinks, you might die from it. But she said that didn't make sense. Sometimes her mom will have four or five beers in one day (I'm assuming that's through the course of a long evening), and her mom never gets sick from beer. And she pointed out to me that, IF what "they" say is true, then EVERYbody would be sick from beer and would've been hospitalized from it, because everybody has beer-butt chicken. (Sorry to say, I have not yet partaken of this dish which I have been assured is marvelous. I'm going to have to remedy this oversight someday.) So here's this little girl, telling me that she doesn't think liquor is so horrible as they keep trying to teach her it is. Her experience contradicts what the school teachers say.



Then there's the speed limits in construction zones. Flashing signs along the road warn us to slow down for construction. Orange signs warn us that there are "Men Working" ahead. Threats are invoked: fines are doubled in work zones. And yet, how often do we see the signs, and drive for 20 miles in a "construction zone" where there is absolutely no construction? If it were in unfamiliar territory, you could rack it up to "They're just putting up the cones and the signs; the trucks and backhoes will be here tomorrow." But when you live there, and for five months the 20-mile-long "construction zone" consists only of men on two bridges, only on the weekday afternoons, well, it gets pretty hard to take seriously the need to drive 45 mph (instead of 65 or 70) on a Saturday morning for the whole length of road.

However, sometimes there ARE "men working." One of our neighbors (working on road repairs) nearly lost his leg and was hospitalized for months when a motorist ignored the speed limits in the construction zone, and smashed into him. Is it the fault of the motorist? Yes, to some extent. But how much is it also the fault of the government which puts up "SLOW: men working" signs when there just aren't any repairmen anywhere around?



About a year ago, a citizens' group in a nearby city got funding to run a campaign to encourage parents not to provide liquor to kids. They just couldn't figure out why parents weren't getting on the bandwagon. They had all these billboards up, telling people not to keep beer in the fridge because it would be too easy for their children to have access to it. (So, let me get this straight. They're promoting drinking warm beer? Or they want the grown-ups to have no beer, as long as there are minors in the home?) This group ran newspaper articles, trying to get parents to support "Not a Drop Till They're 21." And they couldn't figure out why more parents weren't supporting the cause. I called and talked to the group organizer. She couldn't understand why I was "in favor of" parents buying multiple kegs and many bottles of hard liquor for a party for 14-18 yr olds. I kept saying that there's a world of difference between getting other people's kids totally schnockered, and serving your own 19-yr-old a 3-ounce glass of wine with a spaghetti dinner at the dining room table. As long as these folks can't tell the difference, though, they will have no credibility out there in the real world.

If the government were just HONEST instead of insisting that "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" maybe we'd take them seriously more often. But as long as the sky is falling, we will all be questioning the "need" to give up our incandescent light bulbs, buy ethanol, eat oat bran, avoid cholesterol, repaint our houses too often because there's no lead in the paint, and drive plastic buckets to conserve fuel.

Estimated Family Contribution

For those wanting to get a rough idea of how their kid's financial aid forms for college will turn out, check out a couple of these websites. There's the Financial Aid Estimator calculator. But you can also go to a government website that will give you an idea of percentages of parents' income, parents' assets, student's income, and student's assets that are considered fair game for college expenses. Basically, half the student's after-tax income (after an annual allowance of about $2600) is expected to go to tuition, as is 1/3 of his assets. For the parents, it's a little more complicated because it depends on how many children you have, how many in college, how old the parents are, etc.