After depleting nearly all of Katie's fresh produce in only two days last week, I figured I'd better pick up some groceries for us visitors to consume over the next couple of days. And then it would be polite and proper to leave them something to make up for all the inhaling of groceries we'd done. Among other items, I bought some baby lettuces and some grape tomatoes. We ate them for lunch on Friday, just before we scooted out of town. But Katie and Nathan do not have salad dressing in their apartment. That's fine with most of my kids, but I would've preferred some dressing. Katie had been telling about this balsamic vinegar that she had (not something she learned about in my kitchen) which she had included in Thursday evening's ham-bake. So I thought I'd try sprinkling balsamic vinegar onto the salad.
Oh. My. Goodness!
Delicious!
Although my home-made salad dressing is full of enzymes and other healthy stuff (raw first-cold-pressed olive oil and raw apple-cider vinegar), I think that balsamic vinegar may have converted me to using that for salad dressing instead!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Hungry
It's important for families to eat dinner together. Since Gary's going to be gone at dinner time (1:30ish) we're going to have to be eating at supper-time. So I sat down and made a chart of who's going to be here when, and who needs to take meals to work with them the next day, so I knew whether to cook for 3 or 8 or some number in between.
Yesterday we made a light meal for lunchtime -- just a gallon of salad and a 13x9 of tamale pie. We intended to eat dinner at suppertime. Oh my goodness! By 3:00 I was starved. I couldn't think of anything but food. I snitched Snickers. I snitched a shot of Southern Comfort. I snitched more Snickers. By 5:00 I thought I was going to fall apart from hunger. Finally we sat down to fajitas and burritos. Then I stuffed myself too full.
How do the rest of y'all eat dinner at suppertime? Gary and I both felt cruddy last night after eating a meal in the evening. Maybe it's just what you're used to?
Last week at symposium, I ate in the evening because it was the only way to work out calories -- half a bowl of cereal in the morning, a piece of fruit midday, and then dinner about 7:00. For nearly 20 years, we've been eating dinner at 1-2:00. As Gary and I have been feeling the results of old age, we eat less and less at suppertime, and let the kids eat leftovers and burritos and fried eggs and sandwiches and stuff like that for supper.
Today we went to Pizza Hut for their lunch buffet. (Thank you, Anthea!) In an attempt to try to do something for supper as an official meal, we put some leftovers out and nibbled at them together. Today when Gary and I were discussing this whole meal-schedule thing, we figure we're just going to have to eat dinner midday regardless of family togetherness. I hate that thought! But likewise, we hate the thought of the nightmares that come after eating dinner in the evening. We just can't figure out any good way to blend the need for family meals with our bodies' need for fasting in the evening.
And what's really sad is that I'm fretting about this when there are people in the world who would be tickled to pieces to have any food to eat, regardless of the time of day.
Yesterday we made a light meal for lunchtime -- just a gallon of salad and a 13x9 of tamale pie. We intended to eat dinner at suppertime. Oh my goodness! By 3:00 I was starved. I couldn't think of anything but food. I snitched Snickers. I snitched a shot of Southern Comfort. I snitched more Snickers. By 5:00 I thought I was going to fall apart from hunger. Finally we sat down to fajitas and burritos. Then I stuffed myself too full.
How do the rest of y'all eat dinner at suppertime? Gary and I both felt cruddy last night after eating a meal in the evening. Maybe it's just what you're used to?
Last week at symposium, I ate in the evening because it was the only way to work out calories -- half a bowl of cereal in the morning, a piece of fruit midday, and then dinner about 7:00. For nearly 20 years, we've been eating dinner at 1-2:00. As Gary and I have been feeling the results of old age, we eat less and less at suppertime, and let the kids eat leftovers and burritos and fried eggs and sandwiches and stuff like that for supper.
Today we went to Pizza Hut for their lunch buffet. (Thank you, Anthea!) In an attempt to try to do something for supper as an official meal, we put some leftovers out and nibbled at them together. Today when Gary and I were discussing this whole meal-schedule thing, we figure we're just going to have to eat dinner midday regardless of family togetherness. I hate that thought! But likewise, we hate the thought of the nightmares that come after eating dinner in the evening. We just can't figure out any good way to blend the need for family meals with our bodies' need for fasting in the evening.
And what's really sad is that I'm fretting about this when there are people in the world who would be tickled to pieces to have any food to eat, regardless of the time of day.
Not Yet
Gary went in to take his drug test for work today and to fill out paper-work and tax forms and such. Turns out that there was a small glitch in communication between the boss and the human resources dept. He cannot start until after they have back the results of the drug test. So he'll probably begin next Monday. Possibly as soon as this Thursday or Friday. Okay, yet another change of plans....
Punishment
When Athena was a kitten, she would sometimes scratch the furniture. So as to stop her and put her out of reach of the furniture, we would toss her outside. We thought the lesson we were teaching was "You are not allowed to treat the furniture this way." The lesson she learned, however, was "If you want to go outside, the way to make them open the door is to scratch the furniture." Oh, shoot! We taught her TO scratch, not to NOT scratch. We have struggled with that unintended lesson for years, until last month we moved the upholstered furniture so far away from the door as to make it pointless for her to try scratching to get outside.
So with the new kitten, we were on top of things. Oh, yes, we were! We'd learned a lesson about unintended lessons. But somehow, we're still just as stuck as before.
Twerpy little Rosie is nutso for water. She loves the drips from the water faucet after we brush our teeth. She comes running whenever she hears footsteps in the bathroom. She licks up puddles after we mop the kitchen. She tries to get into the kitchen sink (which involves the major no-no of getting onto the counter first) and is working on perfecting her scheme of drinking out of the toilet without falling into it. (People! Please flush here!) For a couple of months, it worked to shoot her with water from the squirty-bottle. But now she WANTS us to squirt her because it's more water to lick up. Throwing her outside has been an effective punishment for the last couple of days when the temps have been in the negative numbers, but it doesn't work as a punishment when it's 20 or 30°.
So today we tried buying her some pets. Ashes (now deceased) had one of those male kitty diseases that meant he was likely to be very dehydrated and we had to coax him to drink. So we bought him a pet goldfish to make his water more tasty. It worked. Today we bought some feeder goldfish for Rosie, hoping to entice her to drink the fishy water instead of lusting after fresh running water. She's quite enchanted by the little fishies and trying to get her paws on them. But we're not sure if this will alleviate the naughtiness of her going after our water glasses.
And we still don't have a punishment for scratching the furniture (a trick that Athena taught her) or her crazy-love for inside-soles of shoes.
So with the new kitten, we were on top of things. Oh, yes, we were! We'd learned a lesson about unintended lessons. But somehow, we're still just as stuck as before.
Twerpy little Rosie is nutso for water. She loves the drips from the water faucet after we brush our teeth. She comes running whenever she hears footsteps in the bathroom. She licks up puddles after we mop the kitchen. She tries to get into the kitchen sink (which involves the major no-no of getting onto the counter first) and is working on perfecting her scheme of drinking out of the toilet without falling into it. (People! Please flush here!) For a couple of months, it worked to shoot her with water from the squirty-bottle. But now she WANTS us to squirt her because it's more water to lick up. Throwing her outside has been an effective punishment for the last couple of days when the temps have been in the negative numbers, but it doesn't work as a punishment when it's 20 or 30°.
So today we tried buying her some pets. Ashes (now deceased) had one of those male kitty diseases that meant he was likely to be very dehydrated and we had to coax him to drink. So we bought him a pet goldfish to make his water more tasty. It worked. Today we bought some feeder goldfish for Rosie, hoping to entice her to drink the fishy water instead of lusting after fresh running water. She's quite enchanted by the little fishies and trying to get her paws on them. But we're not sure if this will alleviate the naughtiness of her going after our water glasses.
And we still don't have a punishment for scratching the furniture (a trick that Athena taught her) or her crazy-love for inside-soles of shoes.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Meal Plans
Good housewives plan their meals for the week and then head to the grocery store. Everybody tells us that this is the way to reduce grocery costs, reduce wasted food, and save time in the kitchen.
I am not a good housewife.
Every time I plan meals ahead, a monkey wrench gets thrown into the mix (oftentimes a good monkey wrench). We get invited over to somebody's house for dinner. Or leftovers are sent home from a potluck or funeral dinner. A neighbor stops by with fresh garden produce. Or someone gets sick, and we need chicken soup instead of lasagna.
So I've developed my own style of "meal plans" without planning ahead. As I go through the grocery store, I check out what kind of produce is getting good-n-ripe and very cheap. I check the meat bin where the "last day before expiration" meat is available for less than half price. I found red peppers for only a dime more than green peppers this week, so we're eating fajitas tonight.
When I get home from the store, I jot down food items on the refrigerator memo board. That way I can remember that I have some pork that needs to be thrown in the crockpot with bbq sauce. Or that there are turnips that will need to go into a stew or soup. Or that there's lettuce hiding in the back of the drawer that I ought not forget. Or that there's a ½-pound of hamburger that needs to be used in something (baked beans? taco salad?) before it gets too old. Then I can just keep crossing items off the list in whatever combinations they are used.
This is not the best way to do it, but it works for me. There's some semblance of planning in that I have a list to jog my memory about what I purchased. And things don't get wasted. But I don't have to plan the meals before I see what I can buy on-the-cheap from the market.
I am not a good housewife.
Every time I plan meals ahead, a monkey wrench gets thrown into the mix (oftentimes a good monkey wrench). We get invited over to somebody's house for dinner. Or leftovers are sent home from a potluck or funeral dinner. A neighbor stops by with fresh garden produce. Or someone gets sick, and we need chicken soup instead of lasagna.
So I've developed my own style of "meal plans" without planning ahead. As I go through the grocery store, I check out what kind of produce is getting good-n-ripe and very cheap. I check the meat bin where the "last day before expiration" meat is available for less than half price. I found red peppers for only a dime more than green peppers this week, so we're eating fajitas tonight.
When I get home from the store, I jot down food items on the refrigerator memo board. That way I can remember that I have some pork that needs to be thrown in the crockpot with bbq sauce. Or that there are turnips that will need to go into a stew or soup. Or that there's lettuce hiding in the back of the drawer that I ought not forget. Or that there's a ½-pound of hamburger that needs to be used in something (baked beans? taco salad?) before it gets too old. Then I can just keep crossing items off the list in whatever combinations they are used.
This is not the best way to do it, but it works for me. There's some semblance of planning in that I have a list to jog my memory about what I purchased. And things don't get wasted. But I don't have to plan the meals before I see what I can buy on-the-cheap from the market.
The Non-Black Stranger
We wear hand-me-downs. Or gifts. We don't buy clothes.
Gary lives in black clericals and black Flex-slacks. That's not exactly going to work in a cubicle at a secular business. So today he went to Goodwill and did a little clothes shopping. He made a good haul! Four nice 100%-cotton button-down long-sleeved shirts and two pairs of khakis for a total of $15. Hooray!
But when he tried on them to show us his new clothes, he looked funny. Where's the Man In Black? Like Paul mentioned, Dad's skin color looks darker when it's not up against the solid wall of black. It's just plain weird to see Gary in red & beige plaid, or blue & beige stripes. :-)
Gary lives in black clericals and black Flex-slacks. That's not exactly going to work in a cubicle at a secular business. So today he went to Goodwill and did a little clothes shopping. He made a good haul! Four nice 100%-cotton button-down long-sleeved shirts and two pairs of khakis for a total of $15. Hooray!
But when he tried on them to show us his new clothes, he looked funny. Where's the Man In Black? Like Paul mentioned, Dad's skin color looks darker when it's not up against the solid wall of black. It's just plain weird to see Gary in red & beige plaid, or blue & beige stripes. :-)
Weinrich's Lecture at Symposium
As a couple of pastors said at the end of Weinrich's paper (which is not published yet, but hopefully will be soon), they could've just let him talk alllll morning! Wow, it was good! My pastor commented on Thursday afternoon after the panel discussion that it seems that Weinrich always preaches even when he's "teaching."
I began noticing about 10 minutes into the lecture that he seemed to be using a lot of terms that were in the preface from the Easter Vigil. I don't think it was intentional -- just that he was talking about the incarnation and the atonement, and how the incarnation has meaning only in that it's connected to the atonement, and how the atonement for sin could only be made by an incarnate God. He talked about being delivered from bondage to sin. He talked about how we are restored to life. He talked about the new creation. He talked about the atonement working our innocence, and restoring us to joy in Christ the Light. So all through his lecture, it was like I had two transparencies in my mind, the lecture and the preface, all mixed up and entwined in a beautiful montage.
For He is the very Paschal Lamb
who offered Himself for the sin of the world,
who has cleansed us by the shedding of His precious blood.
This is the night when You brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt and led them through the Red Sea on dry ground.
This is the night when all who believe in Christ are delivered from bondage to sin and are restored to life and immortality.
This is the night when Christ, the Life, arose from the dead. The seal of the grave is broken, and the morning of the new creation breaks forth out of night.
Oh, how wonderful and beyond all telling is Your mercy toward us, o God, that to redeem a slave You gave Your Son.
How holy is this night when all wickedness is put to flight and sin is washed away.
How holy is this night when innocence is restored to the fallen and joy is given to those downcast.
How blessed is this night when man is reconciled to God in Christ.
Holy Father, accept now the evening sacrifices of our thanksgiving and praise.
Let Christ, the true Light and Morning-star, shine in our hearts, He who gives light to all creation.
I began noticing about 10 minutes into the lecture that he seemed to be using a lot of terms that were in the preface from the Easter Vigil. I don't think it was intentional -- just that he was talking about the incarnation and the atonement, and how the incarnation has meaning only in that it's connected to the atonement, and how the atonement for sin could only be made by an incarnate God. He talked about being delivered from bondage to sin. He talked about how we are restored to life. He talked about the new creation. He talked about the atonement working our innocence, and restoring us to joy in Christ the Light. So all through his lecture, it was like I had two transparencies in my mind, the lecture and the preface, all mixed up and entwined in a beautiful montage.
For He is the very Paschal Lamb
who offered Himself for the sin of the world,
who has cleansed us by the shedding of His precious blood.
This is the night when You brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt and led them through the Red Sea on dry ground.
This is the night when all who believe in Christ are delivered from bondage to sin and are restored to life and immortality.
This is the night when Christ, the Life, arose from the dead. The seal of the grave is broken, and the morning of the new creation breaks forth out of night.
Oh, how wonderful and beyond all telling is Your mercy toward us, o God, that to redeem a slave You gave Your Son.
How holy is this night when all wickedness is put to flight and sin is washed away.
How holy is this night when innocence is restored to the fallen and joy is given to those downcast.
How blessed is this night when man is reconciled to God in Christ.
Holy Father, accept now the evening sacrifices of our thanksgiving and praise.
Let Christ, the true Light and Morning-star, shine in our hearts, He who gives light to all creation.
Quakers (Caramel-Oatmeal Cookies)
Cream
2 cups dark brown sugar
1 cup butter or margarine
Add
2 eggs
1½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
Beat.
Beat in
2 cups flour
2 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups quick oats
Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 375° for about 9 minutes (for a 2" or 2½" cookie). Do not overbake; they should be soft and chewy, not crisp. If desired, add chocolate chips or nuts.
2 cups dark brown sugar
1 cup butter or margarine
Add
2 eggs
1½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
Beat.
Beat in
2 cups flour
2 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups quick oats
Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 375° for about 9 minutes (for a 2" or 2½" cookie). Do not overbake; they should be soft and chewy, not crisp. If desired, add chocolate chips or nuts.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Diet Chocolate Cake
Now, don't get too excited about the title of this recipe! It got the name through family legend. When Gary and I were first married, we made this cake and gobbled it up in about 2 days -- and each lost a couple of pounds. A couple of weeks later, I mixed up another cake, and again we each lost weight that week. This happened several times, and I can't figure out why it would happen. It's probably just coincidence, but it makes for a good joke around here (that probably nobody else finds funny).
This recipe is harder to pull together than most cakes. I don't normally like making cake. It's so much more trouble than pie or cookies. On top of that, cake is probably our least favorite dessert. (NOT that we dislike cake, please understand! It's just, y'know, in comparison to banana cream pie or cinnamon rolls or caramel-oatmeal cookies or ..... wait, ... I have to stop and wipe the drool off the keyboard....) Where was I? Oh yeah, this cake is more trouble than most. But oh yummy yummy, it's worth it!
Step 1 -- the fudge.
Combine in saucepan
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup milk
3 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 egg
Heat to boil, stirring constantly.
Set aside to cool.
Step 2 -- the butter.
Cream
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter (or shortening)
till light.
Add 1 tsp vanilla.
Beat well.
Add 1 egg. Beat well.
Add another egg. Beat well.
Step 3 -- flour and milk.
While beating, sprinkle into butter:
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt.
Add
2/3 cup flour,
1/2 cup milk,
2/3 cup flour,
1/2 cup milk,
2/3 cup flour,
beating well after each addition.
Blend fudge into cake batter.
Bake in greased & floured pans
(either two 9"-rounds or one 13x9")
at 350°, about 25-30 minutes for rounds
or about 35-40 for the 13x9.
This recipe is harder to pull together than most cakes. I don't normally like making cake. It's so much more trouble than pie or cookies. On top of that, cake is probably our least favorite dessert. (NOT that we dislike cake, please understand! It's just, y'know, in comparison to banana cream pie or cinnamon rolls or caramel-oatmeal cookies or ..... wait, ... I have to stop and wipe the drool off the keyboard....) Where was I? Oh yeah, this cake is more trouble than most. But oh yummy yummy, it's worth it!
Step 1 -- the fudge.
Combine in saucepan
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup milk
3 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 egg
Heat to boil, stirring constantly.
Set aside to cool.
Step 2 -- the butter.
Cream
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter (or shortening)
till light.
Add 1 tsp vanilla.
Beat well.
Add 1 egg. Beat well.
Add another egg. Beat well.
Step 3 -- flour and milk.
While beating, sprinkle into butter:
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt.
Add
2/3 cup flour,
1/2 cup milk,
2/3 cup flour,
1/2 cup milk,
2/3 cup flour,
beating well after each addition.
Blend fudge into cake batter.
Bake in greased & floured pans
(either two 9"-rounds or one 13x9")
at 350°, about 25-30 minutes for rounds
or about 35-40 for the 13x9.
Katie's Job
While one daughter struggles in her work situation, the other is quite happy with her job. After spending time with her last week, it just makes me so proud of her that I have to brag for a minute.
Katie is working in a nursing home, helping with the activities. She helps with the all-important Bingo games. She wheels people to daily Mass or assists the non-Catholics in getting to chapel. She organizes activities like baking cookies. She takes people for walks in nice weather. For those who don't get many visitors, part of her job is to just go to their room and sit and visit with them.
She tells me that many young people think she has a very depressing job. But she doesn't see it that way. She gets along so well with those "old-fashioned people." She takes cares of them. She brightens up their lives and stimulates their minds, not unlike a mommy of young children does for her charges. She is good to these people who have spent most of their lives giving to others, and now are unable to give and are beginning to be the ones who are dependent and needy.
And Katie enjoys giving of herself to them. How much prouder could a momma be of such a great girl?
Katie is working in a nursing home, helping with the activities. She helps with the all-important Bingo games. She wheels people to daily Mass or assists the non-Catholics in getting to chapel. She organizes activities like baking cookies. She takes people for walks in nice weather. For those who don't get many visitors, part of her job is to just go to their room and sit and visit with them.
She tells me that many young people think she has a very depressing job. But she doesn't see it that way. She gets along so well with those "old-fashioned people." She takes cares of them. She brightens up their lives and stimulates their minds, not unlike a mommy of young children does for her charges. She is good to these people who have spent most of their lives giving to others, and now are unable to give and are beginning to be the ones who are dependent and needy.
And Katie enjoys giving of herself to them. How much prouder could a momma be of such a great girl?
Further Memory Work
What's next? After your kids have learned the catechism and a plethora of Bible passages and hymns, what else might they learn by heart? Of course, you're still going to want to be continuing to pray those texts already learned. But sometimes it seems good to add some other salutary passages.
How about psalms? Maybe 1, 23, and 100. Maybe 25, 27, 46, 85, 103, 116, 118. And others.
How about the prayer offices or at least the canticles from them? And more hymns -- of course, always more hymns!
I've also asked various kids to learn portions of the Athanasian Creed, the 4th and 5th articles of the Augsburg Confession, the preface that comes near the beginning of the Easter Vigil, the middle paragraph of the Second Article in the Large Catechism (labeled as "verses" 28-30), the litany (LSB 288 or page 112 of TLH), and assorted collects. Not that any of us has learned all that! But we wouldn't want them to slow down on absorbing new things just because they'd already learned everything included in the Learn-by-Heart charts. And this just happens to be a few things we've found good to add to the list.
How about psalms? Maybe 1, 23, and 100. Maybe 25, 27, 46, 85, 103, 116, 118. And others.
How about the prayer offices or at least the canticles from them? And more hymns -- of course, always more hymns!
I've also asked various kids to learn portions of the Athanasian Creed, the 4th and 5th articles of the Augsburg Confession, the preface that comes near the beginning of the Easter Vigil, the middle paragraph of the Second Article in the Large Catechism (labeled as "verses" 28-30), the litany (LSB 288 or page 112 of TLH), and assorted collects. Not that any of us has learned all that! But we wouldn't want them to slow down on absorbing new things just because they'd already learned everything included in the Learn-by-Heart charts. And this just happens to be a few things we've found good to add to the list.
Privatizing Schooling
A quote from the testimony given by the executive director of WPA on Wednesday regarding AB 697:
The basic idea of trying to privatize education by using statutes and public funds is a contradiction and an oxymoron.
The testimony goes on to explain how privatizing education is considered a good thing by conservatives. But how can education be privatized by making more laws about it, by monitoring what goes on in private homes, by making families more dependent on government, by increasing government authority, and by increasing government spending? Think about that for a minute. Do those things sound like privatization?
The basic idea of trying to privatize education by using statutes and public funds is a contradiction and an oxymoron.
The testimony goes on to explain how privatizing education is considered a good thing by conservatives. But how can education be privatized by making more laws about it, by monitoring what goes on in private homes, by making families more dependent on government, by increasing government authority, and by increasing government spending? Think about that for a minute. Do those things sound like privatization?
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Wisconsin Homeschooling
Because of the recent court decisions in Wisconsin about virtual schools run by the State, some bills are currently before the Senate and Assembly. Hearings were held in Madison this week. Homeschoolers did not attend; public e-schoolers did; that is as it should be. Based on what happened at the hearing, though, it is terribly important that homeschoolers contact their legislators.
Updated information is not yet available on WPA's issues website, but I'm going to keep checking there for updates in case some news might be posted. Information will keep coming out on WPA's email list, and situations will change rapidly. If you care about new restrictions on homeschooling, I strongly urge you to join WPA and get on the email list so that you can be involved in protecting your freedoms. And if you think you're safe and don't care too much about protecting your freedoms, then consider people like me with special-needs kids who need individualized programs that are unique enough that they may not pass muster with the State (and which we shouldn't have to get okay-ed, anyhow).
The basic problem at this point is with Assembly Bill 697. The bill describes what responsibilities in a virtual charter school will be held by a certified teacher, and declares that the person providing educational instruction in the home need not be licensed nor certified. Although this does not apply directly and immediately to homeschoolers, the bill also says that the DPI will promulgate rules regarding "instructional staff." This will govern interactions between parents and students in the home with regard to education. This is too invasive and will eventually come back to hurt homeschoolers.
I realize that this is not enough information to help you know how to respond and whom you should phone in the Assembly. That would be a great deal of information to include in one blog post. Please join WPA and get informed so that you will be able to take a few minutes (or more, if possible) to help protect our good law.
Updated information is not yet available on WPA's issues website, but I'm going to keep checking there for updates in case some news might be posted. Information will keep coming out on WPA's email list, and situations will change rapidly. If you care about new restrictions on homeschooling, I strongly urge you to join WPA and get on the email list so that you can be involved in protecting your freedoms. And if you think you're safe and don't care too much about protecting your freedoms, then consider people like me with special-needs kids who need individualized programs that are unique enough that they may not pass muster with the State (and which we shouldn't have to get okay-ed, anyhow).
The basic problem at this point is with Assembly Bill 697. The bill describes what responsibilities in a virtual charter school will be held by a certified teacher, and declares that the person providing educational instruction in the home need not be licensed nor certified. Although this does not apply directly and immediately to homeschoolers, the bill also says that the DPI will promulgate rules regarding "instructional staff." This will govern interactions between parents and students in the home with regard to education. This is too invasive and will eventually come back to hurt homeschoolers.
I realize that this is not enough information to help you know how to respond and whom you should phone in the Assembly. That would be a great deal of information to include in one blog post. Please join WPA and get informed so that you will be able to take a few minutes (or more, if possible) to help protect our good law.
Epiphany's Gold
It's been three weeks since I jogged: ice storms and illness and being away and vocational "stuff" interfered. So today (when it's a whoppin' 0° out) I made myself go out and jog. To ease the pain of getting back to the exercise routine, I took along a tape of my father-confessor's Epiphany sermon. Oh, I just have to bubble over about something in it!
The magi brought gold. Gold is fit for a king. Jesus is the King of kings.
The magi brought gold. Mary and Joseph were going to need some gold/money as refugees.
(You may have heard those points before.)
The magi brought gold. The tabernacle and the temple were rich with much gold. Jesus is the true temple; He came to tabernacle among us, full of grace and truth.
The magi brought gold. The altar was covered with gold. The mercyseat was gold. The place of atonement in the Holy of Holies: gold everywhere. John tells us (1 Jn 2:2) that Jesus is the propitiation for our sins and the sins of the whole world.
The magi brought gold.
The magi brought gold. Gold is fit for a king. Jesus is the King of kings.
The magi brought gold. Mary and Joseph were going to need some gold/money as refugees.
(You may have heard those points before.)
The magi brought gold. The tabernacle and the temple were rich with much gold. Jesus is the true temple; He came to tabernacle among us, full of grace and truth.
The magi brought gold. The altar was covered with gold. The mercyseat was gold. The place of atonement in the Holy of Holies: gold everywhere. John tells us (1 Jn 2:2) that Jesus is the propitiation for our sins and the sins of the whole world.
The magi brought gold.
Friday, January 18, 2008
This Past Week
The three youngest kids and I ran away this week to Fort Wayne. We stayed with Katie and Nathan, but got in a good long evening with Jane and family. I went to Indiana with firm resolve to sleep a lot so as not to relapse into illness. But I just couldn't tear myself away from talking with these ones I love so much. Managed to get at least six hours a night, and am still feeling fine. :-) Didn't hear as many lectures as I would've liked, but got to put in some time helping a friend with the CCA booth. Attended a wonderful church service Thursday evening, and then later the Sabre ceremony. The boys and I had only one complaint about chapel: too much choir; we like to sing those hymns and songs TOO!
Gary didn't get to go with us. He stayed here, hoping to get called in for a job. The brief news is that he has been hired for full-time employment with a secular business. He starts Wednesday. (Mom, vacation-time is arranged such that he will be able to go to the reunion in June. Hooray!) We assume that he will continue on in a part-time position here at this congregation and at Rockford, but that is yet to be determined, pending discussions with the DP and decisions of the next Voters' Assembly, and how this can all be worked out. Don't have much more news than that until after Sunday (at the earliest). In spite of all the changes that are coming, there is some relief in knowing that paychecks will come regularly and that there will be health insurance for Maggie.
Gary didn't get to go with us. He stayed here, hoping to get called in for a job. The brief news is that he has been hired for full-time employment with a secular business. He starts Wednesday. (Mom, vacation-time is arranged such that he will be able to go to the reunion in June. Hooray!) We assume that he will continue on in a part-time position here at this congregation and at Rockford, but that is yet to be determined, pending discussions with the DP and decisions of the next Voters' Assembly, and how this can all be worked out. Don't have much more news than that until after Sunday (at the earliest). In spite of all the changes that are coming, there is some relief in knowing that paychecks will come regularly and that there will be health insurance for Maggie.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Timer
Some people are so technologically inept that they are incapable of operating an alarm clock. Such a person might choose to use the kitchen timer (25' from her bed) to set an alarm on those rare days she needs to be awoken early. But then when somebody decides to set the kitchen timer for a perfectly reasonable use (timing the oatmeal or the brewing tea), it can sure jolt a technologically-inept person awake FAST, and set her to wondering WHY she's supposed to be getting up right now.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Diagramming Sentences
Too much of sentence-diagramming in English books is picky rules about how to write it. Do we underline the subject once and the predicate twice? Which words have a box around them and which are circled? Different texts have different conventions, and none of it matters! What's important is that the person knows what the main sentence is, and what phrases/clauses modify what. And that part is VERY important!
One hymn recently threw me for a loop. Pastor and Kantor took a shine to "O Savior of Our Fallen Race" and I think we sang it about ten times in the last six weeks. The first time through, I couldn't figure out what one antecedent was. And the meaning of that pronoun was hidden well enough that I couldn't figure it out as I was singing. Of course, I forgot after church to take a good careful look at the hymn. And then we sang it again a week or so later, and I still didn't know what I was singing. (It drives me NUTS when I don't know what I'm singing!!) When I sat down to figure it out, I thought this stanza was a prime example of why people need to be able to diagram sentences.
Today, as year by year its light
bathes all the world in radiance bright,
one precious truth outshines the sun:
salvation comes from You alone. Alleluia! (LSB 403:4)
What's light? Whose light? What is IT?
Today one truth outshines the sun. Basic adverb, subject, verb, direct object.
Year by year tells when this bathing is happening. So the picture ends up being that one truth (salvation is of Christ alone) outshines the sun as the light of that truth bathes the world in radiance.
Sometimes the sentences can get pretty convoluted in the poetry of hymns. It's easy when once you look at it and figure it out. But when I'm faced with a new one, sometimes I get a fresh look at how important it is to pay attention to the punctuation in a hymn and what the main subject/verb are.
One hymn recently threw me for a loop. Pastor and Kantor took a shine to "O Savior of Our Fallen Race" and I think we sang it about ten times in the last six weeks. The first time through, I couldn't figure out what one antecedent was. And the meaning of that pronoun was hidden well enough that I couldn't figure it out as I was singing. Of course, I forgot after church to take a good careful look at the hymn. And then we sang it again a week or so later, and I still didn't know what I was singing. (It drives me NUTS when I don't know what I'm singing!!) When I sat down to figure it out, I thought this stanza was a prime example of why people need to be able to diagram sentences.
Today, as year by year its light
bathes all the world in radiance bright,
one precious truth outshines the sun:
salvation comes from You alone. Alleluia! (LSB 403:4)
What's light? Whose light? What is IT?
Today one truth outshines the sun. Basic adverb, subject, verb, direct object.
Year by year tells when this bathing is happening. So the picture ends up being that one truth (salvation is of Christ alone) outshines the sun as the light of that truth bathes the world in radiance.
Sometimes the sentences can get pretty convoluted in the poetry of hymns. It's easy when once you look at it and figure it out. But when I'm faced with a new one, sometimes I get a fresh look at how important it is to pay attention to the punctuation in a hymn and what the main subject/verb are.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Blonde Joke
Homer walked into a sports bar around 9:58 pm. He sat down next to a blonde at the bar and stared up at the TV. The 10:00 pm news was now on. The news crew was covering a story of a man on a ledge of a tall building preparing to jump.
The blonde looked at Homer and said, "Do you think he'll jump?"
Homer replied, "You know, I bet he'll jump."
The blonde said, "Well, I bet he won't."
Homer placed a $20 bill on the bar and said, "You're on."
Just as the blonde placed her money on the bar, the guy did a swan dive off of the building, falling to his death. The blonde was very upset and handed $20 to Homer saying, "Fair's fair, here's your money."
Homer replied, "I can't take your money, I saw this earlier on the 5 o'clock news and knew he would jump."
The blonde replied, "I saw it too, but I didn't think he'd do it again."
Homer took the money.
This came from the Backwoods Home Irreverent Joke page. You gotta check out the one on the pet fish that was in the same issue.
The blonde looked at Homer and said, "Do you think he'll jump?"
Homer replied, "You know, I bet he'll jump."
The blonde said, "Well, I bet he won't."
Homer placed a $20 bill on the bar and said, "You're on."
Just as the blonde placed her money on the bar, the guy did a swan dive off of the building, falling to his death. The blonde was very upset and handed $20 to Homer saying, "Fair's fair, here's your money."
Homer replied, "I can't take your money, I saw this earlier on the 5 o'clock news and knew he would jump."
The blonde replied, "I saw it too, but I didn't think he'd do it again."
Homer took the money.
This came from the Backwoods Home Irreverent Joke page. You gotta check out the one on the pet fish that was in the same issue.
New Heater
Someone decided to donate a pellet burner to church for use in the parsonage. When we found out how big this thing was, I got busy cleaning and decluttering the basement, as the heater and the fuel would take up about 1/3 of the space of a bedroom.
Problem is, nobody took into consideration that we have a crawl space under part of the house. If this new heater is supposed to heat the basement so as to reduce propane use in the furnace, what happens to the unheated crawl space (where there are WATER pipes) when the furnace is running so much less? Someone was supposed to have been here 4 weeks ago to evaluate that.
I never know where things stand around here. Did they give up on it? Do I have to continue the decluttering and basement-rearranging? Will the heater be arriving in March or in two days or in 2017?
Problem is, nobody took into consideration that we have a crawl space under part of the house. If this new heater is supposed to heat the basement so as to reduce propane use in the furnace, what happens to the unheated crawl space (where there are WATER pipes) when the furnace is running so much less? Someone was supposed to have been here 4 weeks ago to evaluate that.
I never know where things stand around here. Did they give up on it? Do I have to continue the decluttering and basement-rearranging? Will the heater be arriving in March or in two days or in 2017?
No News Yet
Rejoice, my heart, be glad and sing,
a cheerful trust maintain,
for God, the source of everything,
thy Portion shall remain.
He is thy Treasure, He thy Joy,
thy Life and Light and Lord,
thy Counselor when doubts annoy,
thy Shield and great Reward.
Why spend the day in blank despair,
in restless thought the night?
On thy Creator cast thy care.
He makes thy burdens light.
(Why did they so often leave out such important stanzas when they put LSB together?)
Still no news about a job/income for Gary.
Maybe next week?
a cheerful trust maintain,
for God, the source of everything,
thy Portion shall remain.
He is thy Treasure, He thy Joy,
thy Life and Light and Lord,
thy Counselor when doubts annoy,
thy Shield and great Reward.
Why spend the day in blank despair,
in restless thought the night?
On thy Creator cast thy care.
He makes thy burdens light.
(Why did they so often leave out such important stanzas when they put LSB together?)
Still no news about a job/income for Gary.
Maybe next week?
Friday, January 11, 2008
Changes Coming?
There are times when you know everything could be different in 8 hours. Sometimes it's inconsequential, like when I was going to see Lord of the Rings or Passion for the first time, knowing that those movies would forever change the mental images I carry in my head for those stories. Usually when there's something monumental coming, you don't know that it's coming (like a car accident), or precisely when it's arriving (like motherhood). Vicarage placements and call day at sem have that surreal feeling that something big is coming, and it could change everything.
Gary headed off to town a little while ago for job interviews. Someone familiar with the company suggested yesterday that, after all the waiting and the delays of the past months, we ought not be surprised if they offer him a job and tell him to show up Monday morning to start. Whether they tell him today "We're not interested" or "Show up for orientation on Monday," it will mean huge things for our family either way. I keep thinking of ALL the little things that will be impacted by Gary's having a full-time secular job. Not the biggies. But that I'll be driving the van instead of the car. That it's going to change dinner-time. That I'm going to have quite the job to get veggies into these people if I'm not setting a steaming bowlful on the table but packing it into a brown-bag. That bed-time is going to have to be much earlier. Things like that.
Gary headed off to town a little while ago for job interviews. Someone familiar with the company suggested yesterday that, after all the waiting and the delays of the past months, we ought not be surprised if they offer him a job and tell him to show up Monday morning to start. Whether they tell him today "We're not interested" or "Show up for orientation on Monday," it will mean huge things for our family either way. I keep thinking of ALL the little things that will be impacted by Gary's having a full-time secular job. Not the biggies. But that I'll be driving the van instead of the car. That it's going to change dinner-time. That I'm going to have quite the job to get veggies into these people if I'm not setting a steaming bowlful on the table but packing it into a brown-bag. That bed-time is going to have to be much earlier. Things like that.
Huckabee and Paul
Hat-tip to Kristi for the link to a Mary Pride article on what's wrong with Huckabee and why he is NOT a good candidate for homeschoolers.
The interesting part is that Mrs Pride extols Ron Paul's position toward homeschoolers: tax credits and government favors to guarantee certain treatment of homeschoolers by others. Homeschoolers are in big trouble when outspoken homeschool advocates are in favor of getting "help" from the government. Government "help" always always always always always comes with strings attached. Always, not sometimes. If the government is going to "help" homeschoolers, the government will be sticking their nose into our daily life and schedule and curriculum and making sure that we're "bona fide homeschoolers" and all sorts of other interference.
I don't want government "help."
I don't want Ron Paul.
There ain't no such things as a free lunch.
The interesting part is that Mrs Pride extols Ron Paul's position toward homeschoolers: tax credits and government favors to guarantee certain treatment of homeschoolers by others. Homeschoolers are in big trouble when outspoken homeschool advocates are in favor of getting "help" from the government. Government "help" always always always always always comes with strings attached. Always, not sometimes. If the government is going to "help" homeschoolers, the government will be sticking their nose into our daily life and schedule and curriculum and making sure that we're "bona fide homeschoolers" and all sorts of other interference.
I don't want government "help."
I don't want Ron Paul.
There ain't no such things as a free lunch.
Blog Award
Cheryl decided to give me the Daily Dose Award for being guilty of writing a blog that she has become addicted to and checks daily (thus the name of the award). Thank you, Cheryl, for your kind words and for your enjoyment of my musings.I am not sure how or who to award in turn. Ever since I signed up for Google Reader, I no longer check blogs daily. Google's technology just says, "Hey, read what Laura wrote today" or "Check out this cute new picture of Izzy" or "Here's Stuckwisch's latest ruminations on Harry Potter." So I no longer have a "daily dose" that I have to go hunting for. Those things come find me. I am spoiled!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Food for Fasting
So the question of the afternoon is What do you serve at an Ash Wednesday Prayer Breakfast?
Our zone LWML used to have a prayer breakfast on Ash Wednesday, where the food was rolls and donuts and muffins and coffee and juices. Not exactly the makings of a self-denying fast.
However, in recent years the breakfast has gone fancy: delectable egg casseroles and meats and fruit salads and awesome sweets. The ladies of our church are supposed to host this year. Last time they served, they didn't make the eye-popping, belt-loosening breakfast, and there were complaints that just "coffee and donuts" isn't really a breakfast.
My theory is that our ladies should serve oatmeal, bagels (and even have butter with them), coffee, and juice. I'd do it myself, except that I have to go to work on Wednesday mornings. But it is an interesting question to ponder: what food does one SERVE for a fast-day?
Suggestions, anyone?
Our zone LWML used to have a prayer breakfast on Ash Wednesday, where the food was rolls and donuts and muffins and coffee and juices. Not exactly the makings of a self-denying fast.
However, in recent years the breakfast has gone fancy: delectable egg casseroles and meats and fruit salads and awesome sweets. The ladies of our church are supposed to host this year. Last time they served, they didn't make the eye-popping, belt-loosening breakfast, and there were complaints that just "coffee and donuts" isn't really a breakfast.
My theory is that our ladies should serve oatmeal, bagels (and even have butter with them), coffee, and juice. I'd do it myself, except that I have to go to work on Wednesday mornings. But it is an interesting question to ponder: what food does one SERVE for a fast-day?
Suggestions, anyone?
Love Comes Softly
We recently finished a series of movies [loosely] based on the books by Janette Oke. The stories are sweet and wholesome and have funny parts, set in the West during pioneer days. Love Comes Softly is the first book, where a woman ends up married to a man, intending only to be the nanny for several months until the wagon train comes through and she can head back East. Love's Enduring Promise is the story of the little girl in the first book, grown-up, having to choose between the dashing young man and the sturdy hard worker. Love's Long Journey followed up the story of that couple, and this time there were bad guys to face. Love's Abiding Joy continued their story, this time with an altogether different kind of bad guy plaguing their town. Love's Unending Legacy brings the heroine back to her hometown and brings new people into her family. The next installment of the series is due out late this spring.
Although the books were Christian "romance" novels, most of the Christianity was stripped from the movies, and they were left with the generic religion you'd expect from Michael Landon, Jr. (The third movie was the notable exception.) Nevertheless, anybody who enjoyed the Little House on the Prairie shows will probably enjoy these. I really liked Janette Oke books once upon a time, and that's what caught my interest with the movies. It turned out, though, that we liked the movies even more than I had anticipated. Maggie enjoyed watching them with us. Even the boys didn't leave the room while the rest of us watched, although in the interest of full disclosure, Andrew much preferred shows 3-4 where there were bad guys to defeat instead of being primarily stories about relationships and love.
I think Rachel and Mom are going to want to bother to put these on their movie lists. Anthea will not!
Although the books were Christian "romance" novels, most of the Christianity was stripped from the movies, and they were left with the generic religion you'd expect from Michael Landon, Jr. (The third movie was the notable exception.) Nevertheless, anybody who enjoyed the Little House on the Prairie shows will probably enjoy these. I really liked Janette Oke books once upon a time, and that's what caught my interest with the movies. It turned out, though, that we liked the movies even more than I had anticipated. Maggie enjoyed watching them with us. Even the boys didn't leave the room while the rest of us watched, although in the interest of full disclosure, Andrew much preferred shows 3-4 where there were bad guys to defeat instead of being primarily stories about relationships and love.
I think Rachel and Mom are going to want to bother to put these on their movie lists. Anthea will not!
Scaer's "In Christ: Volume 2"
The book is published and ready for sale. It will be available next week in Fort Wayne at the symposium. Visit the CCA booth. (There will be a signing party at one point during the week, for those who'd like their copies autographed.)
I had assumed that, after the sermon volume, the rest of the volumes would be a little more "difficult," deeper theology, bigger words, longer sentences, etc. But this volume is definitely accessible to laymen. It is the "popular articles" of David Scaer: articles that have appeared in Lutheran Witness and For the Life of the World and Christianity Today, among others. There are [very readable] articles on abortion and the American Revolution and the end of the world and the centrality of the doctrine of justification. My only regret as I made one super-fast editing pass through this book last fall was that I couldn't lollygag and revel in it. Because it's good (!) and worth being soaked up instead of skimmed through.
Suggestion: this would make one doozy of a book for youth or adult Bible study or book-discussion club.
I had assumed that, after the sermon volume, the rest of the volumes would be a little more "difficult," deeper theology, bigger words, longer sentences, etc. But this volume is definitely accessible to laymen. It is the "popular articles" of David Scaer: articles that have appeared in Lutheran Witness and For the Life of the World and Christianity Today, among others. There are [very readable] articles on abortion and the American Revolution and the end of the world and the centrality of the doctrine of justification. My only regret as I made one super-fast editing pass through this book last fall was that I couldn't lollygag and revel in it. Because it's good (!) and worth being soaked up instead of skimmed through.
Suggestion: this would make one doozy of a book for youth or adult Bible study or book-discussion club.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Can You See Works-Righteousness?
A few weeks ago in Bible class, we were on John 15 and talking about "bearing fruit." Nancy asked how/if works-righteousness looked different from good fruit. Pastor waited. Nobody answered. Finally I ventured that they looked the same... at precisely the same time Pastor got tired of waiting for an answer and told us that they don't look the same.
I figured that I don't know the motivation behind the person who brings me chicken soup when I'm sick. (Unless she happens to be paying me off just so she can laugh at the garlic taped to my neck. But that's not the normal circumstance.) I don't know the motivation behind the person who's running the fund-raiser at church, or the person who rakes leaves for an elderly neighbor. I don't know what's in their hearts.
And yet, the more I think of it, Pastor's right. We cannot tell from a kind act -- in and of itself -- about the motivation behind the act. But we can often, over a period of time, begin to tell from the person's words what he thinks about his good works. When a person is perpetually full of advice as to how I can be a better Christian (like he is), it gives evidence that he doesn't exactly think "all his righteousness is as filthy rags." When a person says, "Of course I don't think my good works merit me anything before God, but..." and then goes on to talk and talk and talk about behavior and acts that need to be done more, that gives testimony to what's in the heart too. Around some people, you get the impression that they're not even aware of the good works they do, and you're comfortable around them. Around others, you always get the impression that you should be "better" like they are, and there's always a sense of guilt. But not a sense of honest guilt; rather, a sense that the way out of the guilt is by trying harder and focusing more on my efforts to be good. And really, that's just being "turned inward" and using the law to justify oneself instead of fleeing to the gospel in the face of guilt.
I figured that I don't know the motivation behind the person who brings me chicken soup when I'm sick. (Unless she happens to be paying me off just so she can laugh at the garlic taped to my neck. But that's not the normal circumstance.) I don't know the motivation behind the person who's running the fund-raiser at church, or the person who rakes leaves for an elderly neighbor. I don't know what's in their hearts.
And yet, the more I think of it, Pastor's right. We cannot tell from a kind act -- in and of itself -- about the motivation behind the act. But we can often, over a period of time, begin to tell from the person's words what he thinks about his good works. When a person is perpetually full of advice as to how I can be a better Christian (like he is), it gives evidence that he doesn't exactly think "all his righteousness is as filthy rags." When a person says, "Of course I don't think my good works merit me anything before God, but..." and then goes on to talk and talk and talk about behavior and acts that need to be done more, that gives testimony to what's in the heart too. Around some people, you get the impression that they're not even aware of the good works they do, and you're comfortable around them. Around others, you always get the impression that you should be "better" like they are, and there's always a sense of guilt. But not a sense of honest guilt; rather, a sense that the way out of the guilt is by trying harder and focusing more on my efforts to be good. And really, that's just being "turned inward" and using the law to justify oneself instead of fleeing to the gospel in the face of guilt.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Christmas Tree
ACK! I, a full-fledged and committed real-tree devotee, betrayed myself and spent real money on a fake tree. My brother and mom (committed converts to the fake trees) were giving me the speech this December about how easy the artificial trees are, how cheap they are, how safe they are, and how they don't drop needles. But I didn't buy it.
And then today, I walked into Shopko to see if there were any slippers to fit Paul. (You do realize, don't you, that buying slippers in January is as completely outlandish as trying to buy a swimsuit in late July or August? Yikes -- these stores....) And right in the entryway of Shopko were the last few remnants of their Christmas "gotta-go" stuff. A very nice $200 artificial fir, with lights attached, for $40. Given what our income is likely to be by next Christmas, and given that this tree costs what ONE real tree costs, I'd rather have the artificial tree than none at all.
So we are now the embarrassed guardians proud owners of a box of green fringe attached to some round boards.
And then today, I walked into Shopko to see if there were any slippers to fit Paul. (You do realize, don't you, that buying slippers in January is as completely outlandish as trying to buy a swimsuit in late July or August? Yikes -- these stores....) And right in the entryway of Shopko were the last few remnants of their Christmas "gotta-go" stuff. A very nice $200 artificial fir, with lights attached, for $40. Given what our income is likely to be by next Christmas, and given that this tree costs what ONE real tree costs, I'd rather have the artificial tree than none at all.
So we are now the
IRS Joke
Dear Internal Revenue Service:
Enclosed you will find my 2005 tax return showing the I owe $3407 in taxes. Please note the attached article from the USA Today newspaper, dated November 12, wherein you will see the Pentagon is paying $171.50 per hammer and NASA has paid $600 per toilet seat. I am enclosing four toilet seats (valued at $2400) and six hammers (valued at $1029) which I secured at Home Depot, bringing my total remittance to $3429. Please apply the overpayment of $22 to the Presidential Election Fund as noted on my return. You can do this inexpensively by sending them one 1½" Phillips head screw (see aforementioned article for USA Today detailing how HUD pays $22 each for those screws). One screw is enclosed for your convenience.
It has been a pleasure to pay my tax bill this year, and I look forward to paying it again next year.
Sincerely,
A Satisfied Taxpayer
For more jokes from the Backwoods Home Magazine, see the July 2006 Irreverent Joke Page. I especially laughed over the one about the young minister doing the funeral (next-to-last one on the page).
Enclosed you will find my 2005 tax return showing the I owe $3407 in taxes. Please note the attached article from the USA Today newspaper, dated November 12, wherein you will see the Pentagon is paying $171.50 per hammer and NASA has paid $600 per toilet seat. I am enclosing four toilet seats (valued at $2400) and six hammers (valued at $1029) which I secured at Home Depot, bringing my total remittance to $3429. Please apply the overpayment of $22 to the Presidential Election Fund as noted on my return. You can do this inexpensively by sending them one 1½" Phillips head screw (see aforementioned article for USA Today detailing how HUD pays $22 each for those screws). One screw is enclosed for your convenience.
It has been a pleasure to pay my tax bill this year, and I look forward to paying it again next year.
Sincerely,
A Satisfied Taxpayer
For more jokes from the Backwoods Home Magazine, see the July 2006 Irreverent Joke Page. I especially laughed over the one about the young minister doing the funeral (next-to-last one on the page).
Monday, January 07, 2008
We're Fine
We've been contacted twice in the last hour to see if we're okay, what with the weather today. Yes, we're fine. Several periods of 5-10 minutes of downpour, but that's the worst it got.
Fleas
Poor kitty. Athena came in the other morning with blood dripping from her mouth. We assumed it was remnants of the most recent snack, although that would be unlike her to be such a messy eater. But Philip mentioned today that she'd lost some hair by her mouth. She must've had quite a run-in with something -- snack or interloper. Now we notice that she's suddenly covered with fleas too. Philip ran to the vet to get the super-duper flea killer stuff, and the price has doubled since we last had fleas around here. Oh well... better to pay it than to fool around with those blasted little critters.
Witchdoctor Garlic (aka: Less Sick)
I got up this morning and made my bed. First time in days! (Still not dressed, and may not bother going that far in recuperation-behavior today!)
Saturday night I put a thin layer of vaseline on the soles of my feet, and then sprinkled a thick layer of garlic powder on it, patted it into the vaseline, and put on socks. Sure enough, about ½ hour later, I could taste garlic in my mouth and smell it coming up through my lungs and sinuses. I needed garlic, and my stomach was in no condition for the amount of raw garlic I needed. So I tried the "external, through-the-soles-of-the-feet" way, and it worked. Not as well as eating the raw stuff, but certainly better than no garlic!
It also crossed my mind that external garlic might help my throat. Part of the reason for the incapacitating headaches of the last few days was dehydration. It was painful to swallow. So I sliced a nice round clove of raw garlic in half, and used a bandaid to tape the cut edges to the skin over my voicebox. That set my voice to improving faster than I dreamed possible. The biggest problem with the garlic there was removing the bandaids from the tender thin skin later. Ouch! (Hey, but less "ouch" than the sore throat!!)
Still sick, but at least I can get up and hobble around to do a load of laundry, take a rest, pay some bills, take a rest, do another load of laundry, take a rest, etc. My biggest problem now seems to be that I've injured a rib through the violent coughing. Can you bruise ribs or get hairline fractures that way? I'm remembering Maggie's collapsed lung last year because of the pain it gave her to take a full deep breath, and I keep telling myself that I do not want to go there. I gotta take those big breaths no matter how much my ribs hurt.
Saturday night I put a thin layer of vaseline on the soles of my feet, and then sprinkled a thick layer of garlic powder on it, patted it into the vaseline, and put on socks. Sure enough, about ½ hour later, I could taste garlic in my mouth and smell it coming up through my lungs and sinuses. I needed garlic, and my stomach was in no condition for the amount of raw garlic I needed. So I tried the "external, through-the-soles-of-the-feet" way, and it worked. Not as well as eating the raw stuff, but certainly better than no garlic!
It also crossed my mind that external garlic might help my throat. Part of the reason for the incapacitating headaches of the last few days was dehydration. It was painful to swallow. So I sliced a nice round clove of raw garlic in half, and used a bandaid to tape the cut edges to the skin over my voicebox. That set my voice to improving faster than I dreamed possible. The biggest problem with the garlic there was removing the bandaids from the tender thin skin later. Ouch! (Hey, but less "ouch" than the sore throat!!)
Still sick, but at least I can get up and hobble around to do a load of laundry, take a rest, pay some bills, take a rest, do another load of laundry, take a rest, etc. My biggest problem now seems to be that I've injured a rib through the violent coughing. Can you bruise ribs or get hairline fractures that way? I'm remembering Maggie's collapsed lung last year because of the pain it gave her to take a full deep breath, and I keep telling myself that I do not want to go there. I gotta take those big breaths no matter how much my ribs hurt.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Job Possibilities
Gary heard back from the secular job he applied for. He's made it past the second round of interviews. Friday he goes in for another round of interviews. We have no idea if he will hear "yes" or "no" on Friday or if we'll have to wait another several weeks for a decision.
Thursday evening he also had a telephone interview with a congregation near Sheboygan. The call committee there held conversations with four men, half-hour each. The circuit counselor tells us that the congregation will probably issue a call in early February.
Thursday evening he also had a telephone interview with a congregation near Sheboygan. The call committee there held conversations with four men, half-hour each. The circuit counselor tells us that the congregation will probably issue a call in early February.
Sick
I forgot how much it stinks to be sick. Usually when something begins coming on, when I lose my voice, when I start the runny or stuffy nose, I do what you're supposed to do: plenty of liquids, lots of rest, vitamin C and garlic and a little echinacea. And that keeps me functional. So I knew I was in trouble when I realized I was going to be up all night on New Year's Eve after having begun to feel a smidge under-the-weather on Sunday. So far it's been three days of fever and lying around thinking of nothing but, "Oh, this hurts." A loving family has helped immensely. Gary (although he's still recuperating from sickness too) did my paper routes this weekend. Paul did the weekly grocery shopping and then made another trip when we realized the freezer was empty of bread, and I sure wasn't going to be making any anytime soon. Maggie and Andrew have been helpful go-fers. Andrew has done a significant amount of cooking. And Rachel spearheaded the taking down of the Christmas tree (while she was supposed to be here only to have fun and visit Anthea).
Thursday, January 03, 2008
New Year's Resolution
I don't make New Year's resolutions. But this year I am. Not because it's the new year and time to do that. But it just so happens I have a resolution that I resolved on January 1-2, so I guess we know what we call that, eh?
I hereby resolve to be less patient, less forgiving, less kind, and less forebearing. When a person is a mother (or in some other position in charge of people) it seems that patience in the face of rudeness or squabbling or disobedience has only one result: giving the offender permission to continue sinning. And I'm disgusted with myself for the things I sometimes let continue. God help me to crack down unemotionally with the punishments when the offenses are small, before the offenses get big enough that my anger is all-consuming. Not unlike Giuliani's cracked window policy.
I hereby resolve to be less patient, less forgiving, less kind, and less forebearing. When a person is a mother (or in some other position in charge of people) it seems that patience in the face of rudeness or squabbling or disobedience has only one result: giving the offender permission to continue sinning. And I'm disgusted with myself for the things I sometimes let continue. God help me to crack down unemotionally with the punishments when the offenses are small, before the offenses get big enough that my anger is all-consuming. Not unlike Giuliani's cracked window policy.
Presidential Primaries
Given the lateness of my state's primary, I figure I don't have to be in any hurry to make up my mind. There are things I like about Ron Paul and things I like about Fred Thompson. If we want a Democrat in Republican clothing, we can vote for McCain, Giuliani, or Huckabee. But after reading this quote (found through my son's blog), I think Thompson probably has clinched my vote.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Good Cocoa
After caroling on Sunday, we arrived back at church for hot chocolate and cookies. Julie and I figured it was the best cocoa we'd ever had. So we asked Anne what her special secret ingredient was. Nothing -- she just used 2% milk and Nesquick -- that's it. But she said she warmed the milk very slowly, on very low heat. All I can figure is that does something to the chemical composition of the sugars in the milk, because that was mighty delicious cocoa!
Smack
I thoroughly enjoyed Love's Labour's Lost, including (and maybe especially) the scene where the girls spend a couple of minutes hurling creative and hilarious insults at each other. But then the insults stopped; they applauded each other for their witty comments; and they went back to discussing the matters at hand.
I remember my daughter being asked by an onlooker if she and Coral and Marie liked each other. Well, those three are best of buddies, but they had just spent a couple of minutes in that kind of sarcastic wordplay. The onlooker thought it was a sign of a problem in their relationship. Nope. It was play.
I am not offended by sarcasm and those kinds of insults.
But smack-talk that goes on for more than five minutes gets a little wearing. Smack-talk that goes on for hours without let-up makes me livid. When a person cannot seem to discuss books or political events or gardening or movies or style or theology or thoughts of any sort, but can only engage in smack-talk, you begin to wonder about whether there's anything inside him that's worth knowing. Where is there any kindness? Where's the compassion? Where's the interest?
I remember my daughter being asked by an onlooker if she and Coral and Marie liked each other. Well, those three are best of buddies, but they had just spent a couple of minutes in that kind of sarcastic wordplay. The onlooker thought it was a sign of a problem in their relationship. Nope. It was play.
I am not offended by sarcasm and those kinds of insults.
But smack-talk that goes on for more than five minutes gets a little wearing. Smack-talk that goes on for hours without let-up makes me livid. When a person cannot seem to discuss books or political events or gardening or movies or style or theology or thoughts of any sort, but can only engage in smack-talk, you begin to wonder about whether there's anything inside him that's worth knowing. Where is there any kindness? Where's the compassion? Where's the interest?
Sunday, December 30, 2007
New Years Eve Already
Four kids (and a chauffeur) arrived this evening to begin tomorrow night's party already. "Fluxx" and "Apples to Apples" and lots of funny You-Tubes. The rest of the crowd arrives tomorrow. I suspect the teenagers will need far less sleep than the three adults in the house. We sure have enjoyed a lot of laughing so far this evening, and silliness and amusements will multiply rapidly when more of Paul's crew arrives.(Y'know, I think Paul's guests are all homeschoolers -- or were for most of their school years. Too bad these kids aren't socialized. ROFLOL!!!!)
Adoration
Once upon a time, my friend Fritz mentioned to us that the icons of the "Adoration of the Magi" always had the wise men kneeling. I don't know if there's some etymology of the word that's connected to kneeling -- probably not -- but ever since then, it seems like "Oh, Come, Let Us Adore Him" is very much connected to kneeling at the altar to adore and receive the Christchild.
But then yesterday we sang the carol at a funeral Mass. Look how much of the Nicene Creed is in that carol.
Highest, most holy, Light of light eternal,
Born of a virgin, a mortal He comes;
Son of the Father, now in flesh appearing!
And the proper preface too.
Sing, choirs of angels, sing with exultation;
O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above
Glory to God in the highest!
So there we are at the funeral, inviting Mel to sing with us. Not that he really needs invitation, though. That's exactly what Mel is already busy doing: receiving, communing, singing, adoring.
But then yesterday we sang the carol at a funeral Mass. Look how much of the Nicene Creed is in that carol.
Highest, most holy, Light of light eternal,
Born of a virgin, a mortal He comes;
Son of the Father, now in flesh appearing!
And the proper preface too.
Sing, choirs of angels, sing with exultation;
O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above
Glory to God in the highest!
So there we are at the funeral, inviting Mel to sing with us. Not that he really needs invitation, though. That's exactly what Mel is already busy doing: receiving, communing, singing, adoring.
Closed Communion
What Child is this,
who laid to rest in Mary's lap is sleeping,
Or resting in the ciborium or on the paten?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven...
While shepherds watch are keeping?
Are not the shepherds -- the pastors -- given the responsibility to guard and keep watch over the Eucharist? They must know the people whom they commune. And they must take care that the elements are treated reverently and properly.
This, this is Christ the King,
whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
the Babe, the Son of Mary.
We laud and magnify Thy glorious name,
evermore praising Thee and singing,
"Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Sabaoth...."
who laid to rest in Mary's lap is sleeping,
Or resting in the ciborium or on the paten?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven...
While shepherds watch are keeping?
Are not the shepherds -- the pastors -- given the responsibility to guard and keep watch over the Eucharist? They must know the people whom they commune. And they must take care that the elements are treated reverently and properly.
This, this is Christ the King,
whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
the Babe, the Son of Mary.
We laud and magnify Thy glorious name,
evermore praising Thee and singing,
"Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Sabaoth...."
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Books for Sale
My husband has a bunch of theology books for sale. He priced them low compared to ebay or amazon-used or AbeBooks, because he wants to shoo them on out of the house. If you're interested, here's a list of titles.
Bouncing Knee
For those of you who have had to sit by me in church, or across from me in Bible class, or beside me at a symposium (or have had to sit by any of my four oldest children in similar circumstances), there is a cartoon that Paul found that is just hilarious!!
Christmas Diary
My friend Cheryl mentioned that her blog tends to be her thoughts and observations and musings, and seldom about the day-to-day goings-on. Mine tends to be more thinking aloud and less about the events of our lives. But I really like reading the things my friends are up to and how they spend their time. For example, I get really cranky when people find fault with Pr Petersen for including silly stuff or family matters or cat stories on his blog, instead of confining himself to theology. So I'm going to take Cheryl's lead and report on what we did for Christmas.
Paul was done at work on the 24th at 2:00. After we stuffed some leftover dinner into him, the whole family went to church at my father-confessor's church. We tried to save a seat for Rachel & Matt, but the crowd was unbelievable, so they ended up sitting in the aisle instead of by us. We came home and worshiped here. I'm on altar duty for December, so I cleaned up after church and set up for the morning.
When we came home that night, I intended to watch Passion, something I've seemed to need every Christmas since it's been out. But Gary asked if I'd ever blogged about Maggie's birthday story, and he suggested that it would be nice if I did. So I did that instead. Andrew filled stockings for me while I reminisced in writing about that Christmas of 1994.
Next morning, the children got up, ate the contents of their stockings (Poptarts, cocoa, instant oatmeal), I jogged, and then we went to church. We ate at the Chinese restaurant and managed to refrain from embarrassing Maggie by breaking into a rousing version of "Happy Birthday." (Every other year, we sang to her, nice and loudly, at the restaurant.)
After dinner, we went to the hospital to visit and sing to a shut-in. We came home and opened presents, one person and one gift at a time. The evening was spent trying out Fluxx, phoning our kids and parents, and watching a video that arrived as a gift.
Paul was done at work on the 24th at 2:00. After we stuffed some leftover dinner into him, the whole family went to church at my father-confessor's church. We tried to save a seat for Rachel & Matt, but the crowd was unbelievable, so they ended up sitting in the aisle instead of by us. We came home and worshiped here. I'm on altar duty for December, so I cleaned up after church and set up for the morning.
When we came home that night, I intended to watch Passion, something I've seemed to need every Christmas since it's been out. But Gary asked if I'd ever blogged about Maggie's birthday story, and he suggested that it would be nice if I did. So I did that instead. Andrew filled stockings for me while I reminisced in writing about that Christmas of 1994.
Next morning, the children got up, ate the contents of their stockings (Poptarts, cocoa, instant oatmeal), I jogged, and then we went to church. We ate at the Chinese restaurant and managed to refrain from embarrassing Maggie by breaking into a rousing version of "Happy Birthday." (Every other year, we sang to her, nice and loudly, at the restaurant.)
After dinner, we went to the hospital to visit and sing to a shut-in. We came home and opened presents, one person and one gift at a time. The evening was spent trying out Fluxx, phoning our kids and parents, and watching a video that arrived as a gift.
Psalm 2 on December 28
After years of faithfully watching not only MASH but daily MASH-reruns, the finale came. Everybody was having MASH parties that night, gathering with friends to watch the 2½ hour show. But I was distracted. Early in the show, a mother had to hush her baby so that the enemy would not find the whole busload of people and kill them all. The baby died. I lost it. I had a small baby myself, and the grief of that story-mother's dilemma consumed me for days, and still is strong in my mind.
That memory came back to me last night. The psalms appointed in the hymnal for December 28 are 2, 110, 111. Psalm 2 includes the verse where God succors His people and brings vengeance on those who interfere with His good plans: You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.
Ouch. On Holy Innocents Day, our psalm is about the enemies of God being dashed to pieces. But that's the day we hear about the little ones being run through with the sword and dashed to pieces. And all I could think of (like during that MASH episode 25 years ago) was those babies' lives and the wailing and grief of their mothers. These babies were not God's enemies, but His chosen ones. Maybe it's just a hormonal girl-thing, but I think I might want to rearrange the psalm chart in my hymnal before next Christmastide.
That memory came back to me last night. The psalms appointed in the hymnal for December 28 are 2, 110, 111. Psalm 2 includes the verse where God succors His people and brings vengeance on those who interfere with His good plans: You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.
Ouch. On Holy Innocents Day, our psalm is about the enemies of God being dashed to pieces. But that's the day we hear about the little ones being run through with the sword and dashed to pieces. And all I could think of (like during that MASH episode 25 years ago) was those babies' lives and the wailing and grief of their mothers. These babies were not God's enemies, but His chosen ones. Maybe it's just a hormonal girl-thing, but I think I might want to rearrange the psalm chart in my hymnal before next Christmastide.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Almost Dug Out
Wow, did we have a lot of snow today! Unfortunately, the weather caused interruptions that put off my paper route until tomorrow, so now we can't go to the family gathering in central Illinois tomorrow. Instead of traveling to visit dear family members, we spent the afternoon today shoveling. And shoveling. And then doing a little more shoveling. Using old-fashioned shovels, we cleared about 130' of driveway (15' wide) and another 120' of walking paths. It was warm out, and the snow was falling gently and prettily, and there was very little wind. The snow was heavy and wet and quite deep; it would've make great snowmen if we had the energy to play after the work! When we finally called it quits and came in before it got totally dark, and got out of the wet clothing, and grabbed some hot drinks, I looked out the back window and realized -- oh no! -- we'd completely forgotten the back porch and sidewalks. How much more forgetful can I be??? I could've been a good girl and gone back outdoors, but I fear sore muscles tomorrow. Besides I wanted (???) to get started on the 2007 taxes to be able to fill out college financial aid forms soon.
Cash in the Mail
It always amazes me when cash arrives safely in the mail. Although it's certainly not a regular occurrence, we have had mail go missing (like the bill for our insurance that never arrived). I think that's why my one sister-in-law likes to hear back right away when she mails cash to the kids as gifts. She just wants to know that it arrived. But now that I think of it, we've had very little problem with our mail in more recent years.
Some people enjoy giving surprise gifts through the mail. Anonymously. And they have no way to know that it arrived safely. That takes confidence that God will see that the charitable gift arrives safely. But it does arrive safely and bring joy to the receiver. Just thought somebody might like to know that.
Some people enjoy giving surprise gifts through the mail. Anonymously. And they have no way to know that it arrived safely. That takes confidence that God will see that the charitable gift arrives safely. But it does arrive safely and bring joy to the receiver. Just thought somebody might like to know that.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Pastors Moving
Recently someone commented anonymously (and thus the comment was not published), and mentioned in part that my husband should just take a call and move away from here.
For all the talk in our church body about God's hand in the call process, sometimes it amazes me how little we expect Him to have any involvement in where pastors go, like as if we humans are able to make it all work out the way that strikes our own fancy. Some pastors can say, "Gee, I'd like to be at another place," and within months will have some options to consider. Some pastors are settled and contented and have no desire whatsoever to move elsewhere, and yet several times a year they will have congregations asking them to please come to be their pastor. And then there are other pastors who, for years and years, may have their names on call lists and yet never receive a call to consider. Are we willing to believe that maybe this too is part of God's plan for His Church and for individual congregations and individual pastors, and that it is good?
For all the talk in our church body about God's hand in the call process, sometimes it amazes me how little we expect Him to have any involvement in where pastors go, like as if we humans are able to make it all work out the way that strikes our own fancy. Some pastors can say, "Gee, I'd like to be at another place," and within months will have some options to consider. Some pastors are settled and contented and have no desire whatsoever to move elsewhere, and yet several times a year they will have congregations asking them to please come to be their pastor. And then there are other pastors who, for years and years, may have their names on call lists and yet never receive a call to consider. Are we willing to believe that maybe this too is part of God's plan for His Church and for individual congregations and individual pastors, and that it is good?
Sharing the Same Words
Last August, Father Hollywood posted on Weedon's blog about ESV
It has really hurt the cause of biblical literacy when the KJV ceased being a nearly-universal standard in the English-speaking world. As much as I personally like the ESV, I think it's just one more version in the smorgasbord that adds, rather than helps, the problem of a multiplicity of versions.
In accord with what Katie wrote, I'm thinking that we've also lost hymn literacy, not just among Christians, but even among Lutherans of the same church body. Hopefully we can be committed to some stability now, and not tinker with things again in another couple of decades.
It has really hurt the cause of biblical literacy when the KJV ceased being a nearly-universal standard in the English-speaking world. As much as I personally like the ESV, I think it's just one more version in the smorgasbord that adds, rather than helps, the problem of a multiplicity of versions.
In accord with what Katie wrote, I'm thinking that we've also lost hymn literacy, not just among Christians, but even among Lutherans of the same church body. Hopefully we can be committed to some stability now, and not tinker with things again in another couple of decades.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Brown or Burned?
I don't know how to tell when a roast has gone too far. And I don't know how to learn, except by repeated and expensive mistakes.
A couple of weeks ago, I made a beef roast. I was afraid I'd burned it. But I rescued it in time so that the meat wasn't spoiled. I thought I'd give a go at gravy, just in case it wasn't tooooo burned. It was the most awesome gravy! The roast and the drippings had browned just right.
Today I made a turkey. It seemed that the gunk in the bottom of the pan was too burned and I was going to pitch it. But Gary thought it would be worth keeping the drippings and seeing how they tasted. And it was great! But my nose tells me it's burned.
So how does a person know when "burned" goes too far and actually is burned?
A couple of weeks ago, I made a beef roast. I was afraid I'd burned it. But I rescued it in time so that the meat wasn't spoiled. I thought I'd give a go at gravy, just in case it wasn't tooooo burned. It was the most awesome gravy! The roast and the drippings had browned just right.
Today I made a turkey. It seemed that the gunk in the bottom of the pan was too burned and I was going to pitch it. But Gary thought it would be worth keeping the drippings and seeing how they tasted. And it was great! But my nose tells me it's burned.
So how does a person know when "burned" goes too far and actually is burned?
All Theology Is Christology
Having been told that the chief article is Christology and not justification, I found this quote to be interesting.
Asserting that all theology is Christology does not remove justification as the central doctrine. On the contrary, Christology is the content of justification and completely informs it: Christology is what the Gospel is all about.
The Lord's Supper is at the same time a participation in and proclamation of Christ's death, which is, after all, what Christology is all about. Justification is only the other side of the coin from Christology. The article on Christ in the Augsburg Confession anticipates justification, and the article on justification is thoroughly Christological in that it directs Christ's benefits to believers. Lutherans had little or no quarrel with Rome's Christology. The problem was that, by insisting that salvation was by faith and works, Rome was taking away with one hand what it had given with the other. Lutherans saw that justification by works was unacceptable not only because this doctrine lacked biblical support, but chiefly because it deprived Christ of His glory.
From an article in Modern Reformation, September 1999.
"All Theology is Christology" by David P Scaer.
Also in a soon-to-be-published volume of Scaer articles.
Asserting that all theology is Christology does not remove justification as the central doctrine. On the contrary, Christology is the content of justification and completely informs it: Christology is what the Gospel is all about.
The Lord's Supper is at the same time a participation in and proclamation of Christ's death, which is, after all, what Christology is all about. Justification is only the other side of the coin from Christology. The article on Christ in the Augsburg Confession anticipates justification, and the article on justification is thoroughly Christological in that it directs Christ's benefits to believers. Lutherans had little or no quarrel with Rome's Christology. The problem was that, by insisting that salvation was by faith and works, Rome was taking away with one hand what it had given with the other. Lutherans saw that justification by works was unacceptable not only because this doctrine lacked biblical support, but chiefly because it deprived Christ of His glory.
From an article in Modern Reformation, September 1999.
"All Theology is Christology" by David P Scaer.
Also in a soon-to-be-published volume of Scaer articles.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Fluxx
We got a fantastic card game as a Christmas gift. Fluxx is basically Calvinball played with cards instead of a ball. It's whacky and fun. It makes a good group game but can be played with as few as two people. It's not too much of a brain drain as any attempt at strategy is likely to end up a vain endeavor. But the constantly changing rules sure keep you on your toes.
This game is as good as Set and Apples to Apples. This is something that should catch on and spread like wildfire. Try it; you'll like it!
Available from looneylabs.com.
This game is as good as Set and Apples to Apples. This is something that should catch on and spread like wildfire. Try it; you'll like it!
Available from looneylabs.com.
Carols and Hymns
At our church, the Christmas Eve service is full of carols and has a few of the good, solid, sturdy, Lutheran hymns mixed in. Christmas Day service is mostly hymns with a few carols mixed in.
The hymnody committee for LSB showed great wisdom in not changing nor updating nor tweaking the words to the Christmas carols. The committee recognized the importance of not changing the words. But they didn't treat the hymns the same way. Stanzas got left out, words got changed, whole lines got changed. I used to love the hymndoy of Christmas Day so much! And this year I stumbled through it. It's hard to pray a hymn when your focus is entirely on Say 'precious' and not 'cherished' or Say 'proclaim the Savior's birth' instead of 'repeat the hymn again'. And even when you're willing yourself to sing the words on the page, they just won't come out your mouth because the old words that you've cherished so long are too deeply ingrained in you.
I hope, in decades to come, when somebody somewhere decides LSB needs to be replaced, that the hymnody committee will recognize that words to hymns should not be changed and "improved" yet again.
The hymnody committee for LSB showed great wisdom in not changing nor updating nor tweaking the words to the Christmas carols. The committee recognized the importance of not changing the words. But they didn't treat the hymns the same way. Stanzas got left out, words got changed, whole lines got changed. I used to love the hymndoy of Christmas Day so much! And this year I stumbled through it. It's hard to pray a hymn when your focus is entirely on Say 'precious' and not 'cherished' or Say 'proclaim the Savior's birth' instead of 'repeat the hymn again'. And even when you're willing yourself to sing the words on the page, they just won't come out your mouth because the old words that you've cherished so long are too deeply ingrained in you.
I hope, in decades to come, when somebody somewhere decides LSB needs to be replaced, that the hymnody committee will recognize that words to hymns should not be changed and "improved" yet again.
Monday, December 24, 2007
A Birthday Story
Thirteen years ago this evening, I went to Mass pregnant and cranky. I showed up at church about 30 seconds before the opening hymn, and I was back home by the time the postlude was over.
The baby was due December 23. I had an OB appointment on December 23. The doctor said the baby was nowhere close. He said he expected a delivery date of January 6 or 8 or so. But you know how people are about due-dates anymore. Nobody seems to realize that HALF of babies are born AFTER the due date. A "late baby" is not late until he's three weeks past the due-date. Even on December 18, I had people at church asking, "Isn't that baby here YET??" So I really did not want to listen to more of that now that it was actually past my due-date. The children were given instructions to tell people that "NO, the baby isn't here yet, and if you know what's good for you, you won't eeeeven mention it to Mom until after Epiphany."
By 10 p.m. I felt "funny." I told Gary not to come to bed with intent to finish his sermon in the morning. I told him it would be wise to finish it before hitting the sack. After a while, I decided it might really be labor and not just a funny feeling. By 2 a.m. I decided it might be good for Gary to drop me off at the hospital so as to get me out of the way. I told him to drop me off, come home and sleep, do the service, and show up at the hospital in the afternoon for some baby-birthing.
Got in the car and had a contraction. No. HAD A CONTRACTION!!!! Two miles up the road was another one. Two miles up the road, when we got to town, was another. Another one leaving town. Gary asked if we should keep driving, or if we should stop at the doctor's house. "Nah, keep driving," I said. We got onto the interstate to head to the hospital (which is normally a half-hour drive, but can be reached in 20 minutes when there's a woman in labor or a child who's bleeding profusely). As we merged onto the highway, I told him to turn around and go back. Now! Go back! We'll never make it.
So he took the first U-turn, about a mile up the road. Suddenly I realized that a baby couldn't be born trying to squeeze past a seatbelt. (Duh!!) So I unhooked the seatbelt, removed a bit of clothing, and she plopped out onto the floor of the car before we got to the stop sign on the off-ramp. (Ooops. Was birthing supposed to be a sanitary thing? Botched that one up!) It was a mere-half hour from the time we'd decided to mosy on over to the hospital so that Gary would be free until the afternoon.
Rather than go to the hospital and incur all the bills, and having previously talked to our doctor about the possibility of his unofficial involvement in a home-birth, we just knocked on the door of our doctor's house. Well, that's not entirely true. We knocked on the door of our doctor's neighbor's house. At 3 a.m. on Sunday morning. The neighbors were very gracious about being dragged out of bed, and pointed us in the right direction. Our doctor pulled on some clothes, and told us he'd meet us at the clinic. His only regret was not waking his son (a med student) and dragging him along too.
So we drove to the neighboring village. He opened the clinic, and I managed to waddle indoors. Thankfully it was a warm Christmas -- in the high 30s. I was glad for the time of night too. You feel really weird walking from the parking area into the clinic (tiny trip though it be) undressed from the waist down. But not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the children were nestled all snug in their beds, and the grown-ups had all settled down for a long winter's nap. Indoors, the doctor noticed that the baby was a bit blue, but nothing to worry about; she really had very nice apgar scores. Gary seemed to be in worse shape than either Maggie or me: until that night, I'd never actually seen a person "turn green around the gills." But he was green. We were there for an hour. The doctor was thrilled. He LOVES delivering babies, but the cost of OB malpractice insurance is just too much for a family-practice man, so he had to get out of the birthing part of his practice. The funny part was that he left rather a mess -- bloody sheets and some other messes. When the nurses and aides came in on the 26th, they knew that something interesting had happened since the time they closed the clinic on the 23rd, and unbeknownst to us, Maggie was all the talk of the clinic that day. When we got the bill, we were charged $100 for "an extended office visit." Much cheaper than the thousands upon thousands if we'd gone to the hospital after dropping the baby onto the floor of the car. (By the way, after that little adventure, the car got a goooood cleaning on Christmas afternoon!)
The doctor sent us home. The girls (left in the care of my parents and sister who were visiting for the holidays) had awoken when we left for the hospital and hadn't managed to go back to sleep, waiting anxiously for The Phone Call from Daddy at the hospital. By 4 a.m. we were back home, showing the hour-old baby to the sisters. We crawled into bed and napped for the rest of the night. My parents had snoozed through all the excitement.
The next morning, my dad wondered where I was, and why I was lazing around in bed so late on a Sunday morning. Gary said, "She's in bed with the baby." He peeked in the door, saw 2-yr-old Andrew lying next to me, and thought it was a bit much to be referring to Andrew as a baby. "No," said Gary, "she's in bed with the BABY." Dad thought we were pulling his leg until we introduced him to the itty-bitty little child that hadn't been there last night.
Most women are exhausted following childbirth. I get high for about 18 hours and then I crash. So here it is, Sunday morning, the Feast of the Holy Nativity, and you think I'm going to sit at home while the Mass is going on right next door? (Sorry. Hymn addicts just can't DO that!) And I was still on the post-birth high, with a half-day still to go before I crashed. So I went to church. I took the front pew and sat for nearly all the service, and I didn't exactly get dressed up -- LOL! But, hey, I got to go to church on Christmas. And the baby was there with her godmother who was visiting. So we had a planned-at-the-last-moment baptism. That was the year I learned (never to forget) that the passage from the catechism on baptism ("as St Paul says in Titus chapter 3...") is the epistle for Christmas Day. How appropriate!
When I was about 4-5 months pregnant, we learned that our hospital was involved with a trial program where they had social workers posing as nurses, trying to get personal information out of the maternity patients. I was ticked. It seemed so underhanded and so snoopy. There were many reasons I wanted to have a home-birth, but that was the clincher. But Gary said no. He wanted me in the hospital. I remember praying during summer for God to solve that. And it turned out that neither one of us was disappointed. I didn't have to go put up with hospital maternity-ward shenanigans. Gary didn't have to dread a home-birth. (Although the in-the-car birth did leave him green. And with that mess to clean up. A home-birth might've been easier!) But that turned out to be the small blessing.
A week or so later, we noticed that Maggie turned blue when she cried. Most babies get red in the face when they pitch a tantrum. But she got blue. When we took her in for her check-up, the doctor realized that her heart hadn't made the change-over from how it works in utero to how our hearts work now. We began the rounds of doctors and echo-cardiograms and hospitals. When she finally had her surgery (at 40 days of age, on the Feast of the Presentation), we saw the other families in NICU. They had had babies in the hospital. Because of that, their babies' birth defects had been discovered at 24- or 36- or 48-hours-old. Their children (like our god-daughter five years earlier) had been whisked away in a helicopter to a specialty hospital. The mommies were pulled away from home during their recuperation from childbirth. The siblings had never met the new baby, and here their homes were being ripped apart for weeks. It was heart-breaking to see what happened to these families. And we were spared that. We took our little one home and cuddled her, and started nursing, and had the siblings play with her, and life was nice. We got over the trauma of childbirth and began to "get on with life" before we faced the trauma of heart defects and surgeries. Furthermore, in the last year I've begun to realize that these early hospitalizations have as side-effects all sorts of other health issues and feeding problems. Those difficulties too we were spared.
And all because a putzy little goin'-nowhere labor took a BIG turn very fast. Sure seems to me that God had a boatload of temporal blessings to pour out on us, and a hospital birth would've ripped all those away. And so He made sure to work it out for our good.
And now my baby is a teenager. Happy birthday, Magdalena!
The baby was due December 23. I had an OB appointment on December 23. The doctor said the baby was nowhere close. He said he expected a delivery date of January 6 or 8 or so. But you know how people are about due-dates anymore. Nobody seems to realize that HALF of babies are born AFTER the due date. A "late baby" is not late until he's three weeks past the due-date. Even on December 18, I had people at church asking, "Isn't that baby here YET??" So I really did not want to listen to more of that now that it was actually past my due-date. The children were given instructions to tell people that "NO, the baby isn't here yet, and if you know what's good for you, you won't eeeeven mention it to Mom until after Epiphany."
By 10 p.m. I felt "funny." I told Gary not to come to bed with intent to finish his sermon in the morning. I told him it would be wise to finish it before hitting the sack. After a while, I decided it might really be labor and not just a funny feeling. By 2 a.m. I decided it might be good for Gary to drop me off at the hospital so as to get me out of the way. I told him to drop me off, come home and sleep, do the service, and show up at the hospital in the afternoon for some baby-birthing.
Got in the car and had a contraction. No. HAD A CONTRACTION!!!! Two miles up the road was another one. Two miles up the road, when we got to town, was another. Another one leaving town. Gary asked if we should keep driving, or if we should stop at the doctor's house. "Nah, keep driving," I said. We got onto the interstate to head to the hospital (which is normally a half-hour drive, but can be reached in 20 minutes when there's a woman in labor or a child who's bleeding profusely). As we merged onto the highway, I told him to turn around and go back. Now! Go back! We'll never make it.
So he took the first U-turn, about a mile up the road. Suddenly I realized that a baby couldn't be born trying to squeeze past a seatbelt. (Duh!!) So I unhooked the seatbelt, removed a bit of clothing, and she plopped out onto the floor of the car before we got to the stop sign on the off-ramp. (Ooops. Was birthing supposed to be a sanitary thing? Botched that one up!) It was a mere-half hour from the time we'd decided to mosy on over to the hospital so that Gary would be free until the afternoon.
Rather than go to the hospital and incur all the bills, and having previously talked to our doctor about the possibility of his unofficial involvement in a home-birth, we just knocked on the door of our doctor's house. Well, that's not entirely true. We knocked on the door of our doctor's neighbor's house. At 3 a.m. on Sunday morning. The neighbors were very gracious about being dragged out of bed, and pointed us in the right direction. Our doctor pulled on some clothes, and told us he'd meet us at the clinic. His only regret was not waking his son (a med student) and dragging him along too.
So we drove to the neighboring village. He opened the clinic, and I managed to waddle indoors. Thankfully it was a warm Christmas -- in the high 30s. I was glad for the time of night too. You feel really weird walking from the parking area into the clinic (tiny trip though it be) undressed from the waist down. But not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the children were nestled all snug in their beds, and the grown-ups had all settled down for a long winter's nap. Indoors, the doctor noticed that the baby was a bit blue, but nothing to worry about; she really had very nice apgar scores. Gary seemed to be in worse shape than either Maggie or me: until that night, I'd never actually seen a person "turn green around the gills." But he was green. We were there for an hour. The doctor was thrilled. He LOVES delivering babies, but the cost of OB malpractice insurance is just too much for a family-practice man, so he had to get out of the birthing part of his practice. The funny part was that he left rather a mess -- bloody sheets and some other messes. When the nurses and aides came in on the 26th, they knew that something interesting had happened since the time they closed the clinic on the 23rd, and unbeknownst to us, Maggie was all the talk of the clinic that day. When we got the bill, we were charged $100 for "an extended office visit." Much cheaper than the thousands upon thousands if we'd gone to the hospital after dropping the baby onto the floor of the car. (By the way, after that little adventure, the car got a goooood cleaning on Christmas afternoon!)
The doctor sent us home. The girls (left in the care of my parents and sister who were visiting for the holidays) had awoken when we left for the hospital and hadn't managed to go back to sleep, waiting anxiously for The Phone Call from Daddy at the hospital. By 4 a.m. we were back home, showing the hour-old baby to the sisters. We crawled into bed and napped for the rest of the night. My parents had snoozed through all the excitement.
The next morning, my dad wondered where I was, and why I was lazing around in bed so late on a Sunday morning. Gary said, "She's in bed with the baby." He peeked in the door, saw 2-yr-old Andrew lying next to me, and thought it was a bit much to be referring to Andrew as a baby. "No," said Gary, "she's in bed with the BABY." Dad thought we were pulling his leg until we introduced him to the itty-bitty little child that hadn't been there last night.
Most women are exhausted following childbirth. I get high for about 18 hours and then I crash. So here it is, Sunday morning, the Feast of the Holy Nativity, and you think I'm going to sit at home while the Mass is going on right next door? (Sorry. Hymn addicts just can't DO that!) And I was still on the post-birth high, with a half-day still to go before I crashed. So I went to church. I took the front pew and sat for nearly all the service, and I didn't exactly get dressed up -- LOL! But, hey, I got to go to church on Christmas. And the baby was there with her godmother who was visiting. So we had a planned-at-the-last-moment baptism. That was the year I learned (never to forget) that the passage from the catechism on baptism ("as St Paul says in Titus chapter 3...") is the epistle for Christmas Day. How appropriate!
When I was about 4-5 months pregnant, we learned that our hospital was involved with a trial program where they had social workers posing as nurses, trying to get personal information out of the maternity patients. I was ticked. It seemed so underhanded and so snoopy. There were many reasons I wanted to have a home-birth, but that was the clincher. But Gary said no. He wanted me in the hospital. I remember praying during summer for God to solve that. And it turned out that neither one of us was disappointed. I didn't have to go put up with hospital maternity-ward shenanigans. Gary didn't have to dread a home-birth. (Although the in-the-car birth did leave him green. And with that mess to clean up. A home-birth might've been easier!) But that turned out to be the small blessing.
A week or so later, we noticed that Maggie turned blue when she cried. Most babies get red in the face when they pitch a tantrum. But she got blue. When we took her in for her check-up, the doctor realized that her heart hadn't made the change-over from how it works in utero to how our hearts work now. We began the rounds of doctors and echo-cardiograms and hospitals. When she finally had her surgery (at 40 days of age, on the Feast of the Presentation), we saw the other families in NICU. They had had babies in the hospital. Because of that, their babies' birth defects had been discovered at 24- or 36- or 48-hours-old. Their children (like our god-daughter five years earlier) had been whisked away in a helicopter to a specialty hospital. The mommies were pulled away from home during their recuperation from childbirth. The siblings had never met the new baby, and here their homes were being ripped apart for weeks. It was heart-breaking to see what happened to these families. And we were spared that. We took our little one home and cuddled her, and started nursing, and had the siblings play with her, and life was nice. We got over the trauma of childbirth and began to "get on with life" before we faced the trauma of heart defects and surgeries. Furthermore, in the last year I've begun to realize that these early hospitalizations have as side-effects all sorts of other health issues and feeding problems. Those difficulties too we were spared.
And all because a putzy little goin'-nowhere labor took a BIG turn very fast. Sure seems to me that God had a boatload of temporal blessings to pour out on us, and a hospital birth would've ripped all those away. And so He made sure to work it out for our good.
And now my baby is a teenager. Happy birthday, Magdalena!
Laryngitis
Ever since that year-long bout of laryngitis, I have to be careful with my voice. I can't read aloud to the children like I used to (boo hooo hoooo HOOO). But overall, I've gotten used to being careful with my voice and treating it tenderly. It's times like this evening (and the evening of Good Friday and the afternoon of Easter) when reality smacks me in the face. Two services in one day, with oodles and oodles of hymns, is exactly what I want. But I don't know if I'll be able to talk by the time we get to Christmas dinner tomorrow.
Singing hymns might just be worth it though....
Singing hymns might just be worth it though....
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Food Availability
Spent some time chatting with one of the local farmers on Saturday. He's getting near retirement age and ready to quit. Of course, ethanol came up. He says that, right now, hog farmers are spending twice as much to raise a pig as they can sell it for. It costs 50% more to raise a cow than the farmer can sell it for. That's what ethanol is doing to the farmers. So the grocery prices have sky-rocketed, and they're not anywhere close to as high as they're going to get ... even IF farmers stayed in the business of farming.
If young people don't go into farming, and the older farmers retire or give up, where will our food be coming from in another 20 years? How much will it cost? Are Americans willing to spend ¼ or ½ of their income on food? What would that do to our economy? Are we willing to ignore the oil in Alaska and the Gulf, and instead use our food-producing soil for production of inefficient fuel? We're afraid of being dependent on the middle-east for oil, but we're willing to be dependent on other countries for the food we need to stay alive??
I remember a conversation about 20 years ago where people were talking about a drought-year. They said the farmers were complaining, but that didn't matter to non-farmers because they could just water their lawns and gardens with a hose. And they buy their food at the grocery store. Not like those farmers who grow their own. These ding-dongs even suggested that the farmers might have to start buying food at the grocery store, too, if it was a bad year and they couldn't grow their own. Are we really that clueless about where food comes from???
Every now and then, I think it might be better for our family to be content here (even if there's no income) because here I at least have a couple of acres of dirt. Well, actually, clay. But it's theoretically possible that I could have a big garden and raise chickens and keep a Jersey cow. I keep thinking how the people in the country suffered less during the Depression than did the people in the cities.
If young people don't go into farming, and the older farmers retire or give up, where will our food be coming from in another 20 years? How much will it cost? Are Americans willing to spend ¼ or ½ of their income on food? What would that do to our economy? Are we willing to ignore the oil in Alaska and the Gulf, and instead use our food-producing soil for production of inefficient fuel? We're afraid of being dependent on the middle-east for oil, but we're willing to be dependent on other countries for the food we need to stay alive??
I remember a conversation about 20 years ago where people were talking about a drought-year. They said the farmers were complaining, but that didn't matter to non-farmers because they could just water their lawns and gardens with a hose. And they buy their food at the grocery store. Not like those farmers who grow their own. These ding-dongs even suggested that the farmers might have to start buying food at the grocery store, too, if it was a bad year and they couldn't grow their own. Are we really that clueless about where food comes from???
Every now and then, I think it might be better for our family to be content here (even if there's no income) because here I at least have a couple of acres of dirt. Well, actually, clay. But it's theoretically possible that I could have a big garden and raise chickens and keep a Jersey cow. I keep thinking how the people in the country suffered less during the Depression than did the people in the cities.
Christmas Tree
1. When we moved here, there was a nice little arbor vitae shrub near the corner of the house. All the other arbor vitaes have been removed through the years as they became drastically overgrown. But the one we left. It's no longer 5' high. Now, it's about 25'. It drops branches and leaves into the gutters and makes a mess. We've trimmed away branches so that it doesn't keep scraping the house. But we haven't taken it down: it's the favorite shelter for one of the cats when she gets caught in a storm and cannot get our attention to open the door.
2. My Christmas-tree garden has given us what it can through the years. Many have been harvested. The rest are overgrown. So we are in need of a tree.
Hey! Let's combine those two problems into one grand solution!
3. What if we cut the top off the arbor vitae, and use it as our Christmas tree?
Guess what? It is NOT easy to cut the top off a tree with a dull bow-saw. (I know, I know. Who'd'a thunk it?) One person on a ladder, sawing and sawing away, up there in the sky. One person putting all his weight on a rope, trying to tilt the tree just a bit, so that gravity wouldn't cause the tree trunk to pinch the saw while it's sawing. One person holding the ladder for the person up in the sky. One person holding the flashlight... because of course we didn't manage to get the job done while the sun was still up.
When the top finally toppled down down down onto the ground, and we had to drag it around to the front door, we discovered that arbor vitae trees are a darn sight heavier than pines. I wonder how that's going to work with the tree stand??
I'm beginning to be skeptical that this is actually "one grand solution." But we'll know more when we try to bring it into the house tomorrow and start decorating. I hope it will turn out pretty anyway. Of course, with a kitten and a real tree... there's just no knowing how any tree would fare. At the moment, even a Real Tree Devotee might begin considering artificial....
2. My Christmas-tree garden has given us what it can through the years. Many have been harvested. The rest are overgrown. So we are in need of a tree.
Hey! Let's combine those two problems into one grand solution!
3. What if we cut the top off the arbor vitae, and use it as our Christmas tree?
Guess what? It is NOT easy to cut the top off a tree with a dull bow-saw. (I know, I know. Who'd'a thunk it?) One person on a ladder, sawing and sawing away, up there in the sky. One person putting all his weight on a rope, trying to tilt the tree just a bit, so that gravity wouldn't cause the tree trunk to pinch the saw while it's sawing. One person holding the ladder for the person up in the sky. One person holding the flashlight... because of course we didn't manage to get the job done while the sun was still up.
When the top finally toppled down down down onto the ground, and we had to drag it around to the front door, we discovered that arbor vitae trees are a darn sight heavier than pines. I wonder how that's going to work with the tree stand??
I'm beginning to be skeptical that this is actually "one grand solution." But we'll know more when we try to bring it into the house tomorrow and start decorating. I hope it will turn out pretty anyway. Of course, with a kitten and a real tree... there's just no knowing how any tree would fare. At the moment, even a Real Tree Devotee might begin considering artificial....
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Rudolph
Then, one FOGGY Christmas eve,
Santa came to say,
"Rudolph, with your nose so bright,
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
So, Rudolph is going to be pressed into service this year, eh? Visibility on the way to town today was about a tenth of a mile; that's how it's been for most of the week. On the way home a half hour later, visibility was about 100-120 feet. You couldn't see the next telephone pole until you were halfway there from the telephone pole you just passed. You couldn't see the houses alongside the road.
Tonight, Andrew learned how important "Stop Ahead" signs are. When you pass the "Stop Ahead" sign and it's too foggy to read it, but you know what it says because you're familiar with the roads, and then you drive
and you drive
and you drive,
knowing that stop sign is going to pop up any second,
but it keeps not showing up.
And then --BOOM-- there it is.
And there'd be no way to stop in time if you hadn't seen the "Stop Ahead."
Santa is going to need Rudolph for sure.
Santa came to say,
"Rudolph, with your nose so bright,
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
So, Rudolph is going to be pressed into service this year, eh? Visibility on the way to town today was about a tenth of a mile; that's how it's been for most of the week. On the way home a half hour later, visibility was about 100-120 feet. You couldn't see the next telephone pole until you were halfway there from the telephone pole you just passed. You couldn't see the houses alongside the road.
Tonight, Andrew learned how important "Stop Ahead" signs are. When you pass the "Stop Ahead" sign and it's too foggy to read it, but you know what it says because you're familiar with the roads, and then you drive
and you drive
and you drive,
knowing that stop sign is going to pop up any second,
but it keeps not showing up.
And then --BOOM-- there it is.
And there'd be no way to stop in time if you hadn't seen the "Stop Ahead."
Santa is going to need Rudolph for sure.
HTML Code
Most of you won't care, but maybe Rachel and Katie might. It might help them on their recipe site. I found some code for things I want to type that aren't on my keyboard. Okay, so some of them are math, and the girls won't care about that. But, hey, they can humor me. They'll need SOME way to ask me questions via e-communication when they're teaching algebra to their kids someday.
First you type the ampersand and pound-sign (shift-7 and then shift-3) followed immediately by the number. And then, poof!, your sign magically appears it your blog.
162 is the cent sign ¢
169 is copyright ©
174 is trademark ®
180 is accent-mark ´
176 is degree °
188 is quarter ¼
189 is half ½
190 is three-quarters ¾
177 is plus-or-minus ±
178 is superscript 2 (squared) ²
179 is superscript 3 (cubed) ³
215 is multiplication ×
247 is division ÷
More symbols are available here.
First you type the ampersand and pound-sign (shift-7 and then shift-3) followed immediately by the number. And then, poof!, your sign magically appears it your blog.
162 is the cent sign ¢
169 is copyright ©
174 is trademark ®
180 is accent-mark ´
176 is degree °
188 is quarter ¼
189 is half ½
190 is three-quarters ¾
177 is plus-or-minus ±
178 is superscript 2 (squared) ²
179 is superscript 3 (cubed) ³
215 is multiplication ×
247 is division ÷
More symbols are available here.
Sugarless Oatmeal-Banana Cookies
Normally I have no use for a "healthy cookie." If you want healthy, eat a carrot or apple. If you want a cookie, have it be a real cookie. Not a low-fat or low-sugar or low-anything concoction, but a REAL cookie.
But these good. And there's not one thing bad for you. Gosh, these are just as good for you as a rice pilaf or a veggie stir-fry. The only problem with this recipe is that it calls for 3 ripe bananas. It's mighty hard to get bananas all the way to good-n-ripe in this house without having them consumed/inhaled before they're baked into goodies. But if you DO manage to find some ripe bananas, this recipe is much more non-guilt than is banana bread. And just as tasty!
Sugarless Oatmeal Cookies
350º for 15-20 minutes
makes 30 (use two or three greased cookie sheets)
1/3 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup milk
2 cups quick oats or rolled oats (uncooked)
1/2 cup raisins or craisins
1 tsp vanilla
3 ripe bananas, smashed and smooshed
Mix all ingredients. Let stand about 5 minutes for oats to soak up liquid (longer if using rolled instead of quick). Drop by tablespoonfuls onto cookie sheet. Bake 15-20 minutes. Let cool a minute or two before removing cookies to cooling rack.
But these good. And there's not one thing bad for you. Gosh, these are just as good for you as a rice pilaf or a veggie stir-fry. The only problem with this recipe is that it calls for 3 ripe bananas. It's mighty hard to get bananas all the way to good-n-ripe in this house without having them consumed/inhaled before they're baked into goodies. But if you DO manage to find some ripe bananas, this recipe is much more non-guilt than is banana bread. And just as tasty!
Sugarless Oatmeal Cookies
350º for 15-20 minutes
makes 30 (use two or three greased cookie sheets)
1/3 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup milk
2 cups quick oats or rolled oats (uncooked)
1/2 cup raisins or craisins
1 tsp vanilla
3 ripe bananas, smashed and smooshed
Mix all ingredients. Let stand about 5 minutes for oats to soak up liquid (longer if using rolled instead of quick). Drop by tablespoonfuls onto cookie sheet. Bake 15-20 minutes. Let cool a minute or two before removing cookies to cooling rack.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Prettiness
Today I had to stand around for a while, outside a dressing room in a department store. While waiting, I noticed all the people in the store at this time of year. This may sound dumb, but it struck me how much prettier the women at church are.
In the store, there were a few pretty females, but a lot who weren't beautiful. The girls and women at the store may have had the make-up and the clothes and the hairstyles that are supposed to make us females beautiful. Compared to the women at church, a greater percentage of the women at the store would "have what it takes" to be in a women's magazine. And yet, most of them just weren't as pretty as the normal-lookin' women that I hang around with. There's something in the faces of my friends (whether aged 15 or 45 or 75) that betrays a kindness and a friendliness. And that something makes a person more attractive, even to strangers.
Andrew was asking a week or so ago about wrinkles and smile-lines, and we talked about how 60-70 years' worth of personality ends up etched in the kind of wrinkle-lines on a person's face. That's why we can so often look at an older person and assess whether the person looks nice or cranky. But that wouldn't explain why personality (brashness, gentleness, arrogance, patience, etc) shows up in the face of a teenager or young mother.
In the store, there were a few pretty females, but a lot who weren't beautiful. The girls and women at the store may have had the make-up and the clothes and the hairstyles that are supposed to make us females beautiful. Compared to the women at church, a greater percentage of the women at the store would "have what it takes" to be in a women's magazine. And yet, most of them just weren't as pretty as the normal-lookin' women that I hang around with. There's something in the faces of my friends (whether aged 15 or 45 or 75) that betrays a kindness and a friendliness. And that something makes a person more attractive, even to strangers.
Andrew was asking a week or so ago about wrinkles and smile-lines, and we talked about how 60-70 years' worth of personality ends up etched in the kind of wrinkle-lines on a person's face. That's why we can so often look at an older person and assess whether the person looks nice or cranky. But that wouldn't explain why personality (brashness, gentleness, arrogance, patience, etc) shows up in the face of a teenager or young mother.
Psalm 111
The works of the Lord are great.
His work is honorable and glorious.
He has made His wonderful works to be remembered.
He has declared to His people the power of His works.
The works of His hands are verity and justice.
That's a whole lot of references to God's works, all in one psalm. It's so easy to think of God's works primarily as feeding us (verse 5) and powerful acts (verse 6). But the psalm looks entirely different when you start thinking of His work on the cross: His righteousness (verse 3) and His compassion (verse 4) and His promise (verse 5) and the redemption of His people (verse 9).
His work is honorable and glorious.
He has made His wonderful works to be remembered.
He has declared to His people the power of His works.
The works of His hands are verity and justice.
That's a whole lot of references to God's works, all in one psalm. It's so easy to think of God's works primarily as feeding us (verse 5) and powerful acts (verse 6). But the psalm looks entirely different when you start thinking of His work on the cross: His righteousness (verse 3) and His compassion (verse 4) and His promise (verse 5) and the redemption of His people (verse 9).
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Cardiology Visit
The echo showed beautiful results from last year's surgery. There's the tiniest bit of leakage from the homograft, better than the doctor could've hoped for. The pulmonary arteries and the ventricles are perfect. The doctor said there's nothing her heart can't take as far as sports activities -- except maybe tackle football or high-school wrestling. (Like we were going to have her involved in those boy sports anyhow???)
Doc's only concern is Maggie's weight gain. It's common after surgery, but it's something to start taking seriously. She got speeches today (from somebody other than Mom) about veggies and exercise.
Instead of going "lub-DUB," Maggie's heart goes "lub-swish-DA-DUB" and the doctor explained to me what the sounds were, and that it sounds just like an atrial septal defect (in case Matt wants to take a listen to the current sounds).
We also discussed the necessity of the next appointment and its timing, in case of not having insurance coverage then. We know what to watch for, and that if we don't have insurance, there can be some allowances made (by the doctor, but not by the hospital).
Doc's only concern is Maggie's weight gain. It's common after surgery, but it's something to start taking seriously. She got speeches today (from somebody other than Mom) about veggies and exercise.
Instead of going "lub-DUB," Maggie's heart goes "lub-swish-DA-DUB" and the doctor explained to me what the sounds were, and that it sounds just like an atrial septal defect (in case Matt wants to take a listen to the current sounds).
We also discussed the necessity of the next appointment and its timing, in case of not having insurance coverage then. We know what to watch for, and that if we don't have insurance, there can be some allowances made (by the doctor, but not by the hospital).
Hot Dogs
Oh, they're full of salt and fat and mystery meat and other things I don't want to know about. They're terrible for you.
Last Saturday, the tree was put up at a sister-congregation, and they served hot dogs to the workers. When I was there for Bible class today, they were trying to clean out the fridge. They sent home hot dogs and white-bread buns with me.
Oh, yum! Oh, melting away in deliciousness! Hot dogs are awful. But they TASTE sooooo good!
Last Saturday, the tree was put up at a sister-congregation, and they served hot dogs to the workers. When I was there for Bible class today, they were trying to clean out the fridge. They sent home hot dogs and white-bread buns with me.
Oh, yum! Oh, melting away in deliciousness! Hot dogs are awful. But they TASTE sooooo good!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Psalm 24
Somehow, the sections of this psalm always seemed so disjointed to me. The first section is about the Lord making the whole world. The middle section is about holiness being necessary to come into God's presence. And the third part is "Lift up your heads" which shows up in many Advent hymns, and thus seemed to me to refer to getting our hearts ready for Christ's coming. The pietist in me sure saw this psalm as referring to our efforts at spirituality.
But what if verse 3 ("Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?") is connected to verses 7 & 9 about "lift up your heads, o gates, and be lifted up, you everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in"? If Jesus is the one with "clean hands and a pure heart," then He is the one who "may ascend into the hill of the Lord." Jesus is the one who receives blessing and righteousness from God. So --yoohoo-- somebody meets the requirements for coming into the holy place [in the middle section of the psalm] and therefore, naturally, the doors need to be opened for Him [the last section].
In addition, He may stand in the holy place --He may enter into God's presence [the middle section] with the blood of atonement-- because He is the one who is "strong and mighty in battle," the one who fights, the one who defeats the enemy [the last section].
Hey, maybe this psalm hangs together a little more than I thought for the past few decades!
But what if verse 3 ("Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?") is connected to verses 7 & 9 about "lift up your heads, o gates, and be lifted up, you everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in"? If Jesus is the one with "clean hands and a pure heart," then He is the one who "may ascend into the hill of the Lord." Jesus is the one who receives blessing and righteousness from God. So --yoohoo-- somebody meets the requirements for coming into the holy place [in the middle section of the psalm] and therefore, naturally, the doors need to be opened for Him [the last section].
In addition, He may stand in the holy place --He may enter into God's presence [the middle section] with the blood of atonement-- because He is the one who is "strong and mighty in battle," the one who fights, the one who defeats the enemy [the last section].
Hey, maybe this psalm hangs together a little more than I thought for the past few decades!
Where I Live
I love it that there are no city lights close by, and the sky is dark, and we can see stars. I love it that we can watch a meteor shower and have even seen the Northern Lights this far south.
I love my beautiful hardwood floors. I love it that I can get more hardwood floors as soon as I can manage to find the time and energy to rip out more carpet.
I love it that I can see the horizon. The horizon to the west is about 13 miles away, and to the east it's about 6 miles away. We can see the sun make its trek across the sky, setting way down there in the south now, past the garage. We can see it start to move north next week until at Easter it will be setting behind the tree that's smack dab straight out the front window. And in summer it will be way up there in the north, beyond Paul's bedroom. Although I learned this science in school, it didn't gel in my brain until I lived with it, watching it out my window year after after.
Seeing the horizon also means we can see the storms approaching, and judge whether the rain will be here in 10 minutes or 30. We can watch the lightning dance and flitter its way from Rockford to Beloit to Janesville to Madison. We can see from the shape of the clouds whether to expect huge gusts of wind such that we need to hide lawn-chairs in the garage.
On a mostly-sunny, partly-cloudy day, I love watching the isolated shadows of those few cumulus clouds crawl across the hayfields and the bean-fields.
I love that my bird-watching is more than robins and finches and cardinals. I love watching the red-tail hawks hunting and the turkey buzzards floating on the warm updrafts of air. I love watching (and hearing!) V's of sandhill cranes migrating.
And most of all, I love marking the passage of time by the wildflowers that are blooming. I love knowing when the St Johns-wort is early, or the wild roses are late. I love the ribbon of chicory and Queen Anne's Lace that lines the country roads in July. I love the phlox of spring, the soapwort of summer, and the goldenrod of fall. The inexorable flow of one flower's season to the next flower's month is a beauty and a comfort and a sturdiness that can't be known in the city like it can in the country.
I love my beautiful hardwood floors. I love it that I can get more hardwood floors as soon as I can manage to find the time and energy to rip out more carpet.
I love it that I can see the horizon. The horizon to the west is about 13 miles away, and to the east it's about 6 miles away. We can see the sun make its trek across the sky, setting way down there in the south now, past the garage. We can see it start to move north next week until at Easter it will be setting behind the tree that's smack dab straight out the front window. And in summer it will be way up there in the north, beyond Paul's bedroom. Although I learned this science in school, it didn't gel in my brain until I lived with it, watching it out my window year after after.
Seeing the horizon also means we can see the storms approaching, and judge whether the rain will be here in 10 minutes or 30. We can watch the lightning dance and flitter its way from Rockford to Beloit to Janesville to Madison. We can see from the shape of the clouds whether to expect huge gusts of wind such that we need to hide lawn-chairs in the garage.
On a mostly-sunny, partly-cloudy day, I love watching the isolated shadows of those few cumulus clouds crawl across the hayfields and the bean-fields.
I love that my bird-watching is more than robins and finches and cardinals. I love watching the red-tail hawks hunting and the turkey buzzards floating on the warm updrafts of air. I love watching (and hearing!) V's of sandhill cranes migrating.
And most of all, I love marking the passage of time by the wildflowers that are blooming. I love knowing when the St Johns-wort is early, or the wild roses are late. I love the ribbon of chicory and Queen Anne's Lace that lines the country roads in July. I love the phlox of spring, the soapwort of summer, and the goldenrod of fall. The inexorable flow of one flower's season to the next flower's month is a beauty and a comfort and a sturdiness that can't be known in the city like it can in the country.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Wisconsin Homeschooling News
Two weeks ago, a district court of appeals declared that it is illegal for a public school to run a charter e-school and take in out-of-district students. Some homeschoolers will agree and others will disagree. The big problem, though, is some of the reasoning used by the court. Legislation will be coming to sort and settle this matter. It is likely that homeschoolers will be caught up in the trouble. We need to be on our toes, paying attention to what's happening, because it's very likely that there could be changes coming that would effect homeschoolers.
Homeschoolers need to ensure that public e-schoolers (kids who are enrolled in the public school, but who do their work at home via computer) are NOT confused with homeschoolers. Homeschools are PRIVATE schools. They operate under the private-school law. Public e-schoolers, even though they're at home in their living room, are PUBLIC school students.
Homeschoolers also need to take this opportunity to remind legislators that we do not want favors and help from the government. We want to be left alone to make our own decisions about the education of our children. There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. If we are offered tax breaks or any other help from the govt, we need to remember that strings will be attached, and we will no longer have the freedom to choose an education that is best-suited to our children's needs and interests.
For more information, please check out the WPA website. Please circulate the information to other homeschoolers. We may need to be very active in January or February to protect our excellent law. Any groundwork that can be accomplished now, ahead of time, would be good.
Homeschoolers need to ensure that public e-schoolers (kids who are enrolled in the public school, but who do their work at home via computer) are NOT confused with homeschoolers. Homeschools are PRIVATE schools. They operate under the private-school law. Public e-schoolers, even though they're at home in their living room, are PUBLIC school students.
Homeschoolers also need to take this opportunity to remind legislators that we do not want favors and help from the government. We want to be left alone to make our own decisions about the education of our children. There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. If we are offered tax breaks or any other help from the govt, we need to remember that strings will be attached, and we will no longer have the freedom to choose an education that is best-suited to our children's needs and interests.
For more information, please check out the WPA website. Please circulate the information to other homeschoolers. We may need to be very active in January or February to protect our excellent law. Any groundwork that can be accomplished now, ahead of time, would be good.
Kitty, Kitty, Kitty
I stewed one of Karin's chickens overnight. That always makes me immensely popular with the cats. They smooch my legs. They look at me with loving eyes. They proclaim that they are the BEST kitties and surely love me so much that they deserve for the chicken to be dropped on the floor. Not the whole chicken?? Well, okay, they'll settle for bits. Not bits of chicken either?? Can we at least lick the pot when you're done?? Please? We're such GOOD GOOD kitties!
The one who was begging last night (the older one) happened to be unavailable when I was picking off the meat this morning. So we called, "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie." It has a different sound from "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty" which is the call to the older cat, our huntress. (Of course, by now they're beginning to learn to come when the other is called ... so as to be able to stick your nose into herbusiness bowl.
Maggie always asks about why I didn't call "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." I try to intercept the question and hush her, because no matter how quietly you say those magic words, the cats will hear and come a-runnin'. So we've taken to using the abbreviation "KKK" for the magic words. For me and the older kids, those letters still bring to mind the Ku Klux Klan, but I imagine it won't be long before my first thought on hearing KKK will be something to do with greedy cats and stewed chicken and/or roast turkey.
Can you even imagine what my kids are going to do when they see "KKK" on a CLEP test or a college history exam?
The one who was begging last night (the older one) happened to be unavailable when I was picking off the meat this morning. So we called, "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie." It has a different sound from "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty" which is the call to the older cat, our huntress. (Of course, by now they're beginning to learn to come when the other is called ... so as to be able to stick your nose into her
Maggie always asks about why I didn't call "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." I try to intercept the question and hush her, because no matter how quietly you say those magic words, the cats will hear and come a-runnin'. So we've taken to using the abbreviation "KKK" for the magic words. For me and the older kids, those letters still bring to mind the Ku Klux Klan, but I imagine it won't be long before my first thought on hearing KKK will be something to do with greedy cats and stewed chicken and/or roast turkey.
Can you even imagine what my kids are going to do when they see "KKK" on a CLEP test or a college history exam?
Monday, December 17, 2007
Stuck But Unused Stamps
At the post office today, I learned something new. If I had an unused stamp that was attached to a self-addressed stamped envelope that a business had sent us, or if I mistakenly attached a stamp to an envelope with the wrong address, I used to snip it off and glue it onto another envelope. The postmaster today wouldn't accept it. He told me that it is fine to bring in the envelope with the unused stamp attached, and they'll refund the money or give me a new stamp. But any stamp going into the mail must be attached to the current envelope and cannot have been stuck onto anything else first.
Okay. That's good to know for future reference.
But today it took all my gumption not to burst into tears in the post office over that 82 cents.
So I proceed to the welder's place to pick up my pots whose handles had fallen off last week. When his assistant fetched my order, I asked her how much I owed her. I expected somewhere between $5 and $10, and I really have no clue if I was anywhere in the ballpark. But Denise told me I didn't owe them anything; it was "a donation to the cause." Overwhelmed, I thanked her. Granted, it was probably no big deal to them who fix great big honkin' pieces of machinery. A little handle on a little saucepan maybe isn't any more to them than sewing on a button would be to me. But it meant a lot to me that they did the repairs out of kindness, without cost to us.
And a few minutes earlier I was stressing over 82 cents.
Okay. That's good to know for future reference.
But today it took all my gumption not to burst into tears in the post office over that 82 cents.
So I proceed to the welder's place to pick up my pots whose handles had fallen off last week. When his assistant fetched my order, I asked her how much I owed her. I expected somewhere between $5 and $10, and I really have no clue if I was anywhere in the ballpark. But Denise told me I didn't owe them anything; it was "a donation to the cause." Overwhelmed, I thanked her. Granted, it was probably no big deal to them who fix great big honkin' pieces of machinery. A little handle on a little saucepan maybe isn't any more to them than sewing on a button would be to me. But it meant a lot to me that they did the repairs out of kindness, without cost to us.
And a few minutes earlier I was stressing over 82 cents.
Leaking Roof
And in the "What Next??" department...
A year ago I told the folks at church that the church roof was leaking. Nothing was done. In September, the turkey-dinner committee discovered that the kitchen roof was leaking. The decision to repair was made that week. Bids were obtained, and within 3 weeks the repairman was hired.
He didn't come do it. The roof isn't fixed yet.
Can't be fixed now. Not until spring's thaws.
We had a relatively warm day last week. Almost 30. Because the roof is flat and black, that was enough sunshine to start melting the snow and ice. The church kitchen started getting wet again. The ceiling and walls and cupboards are being damaged. But most of the stuff is safe; dishes, glasses, counters, and silverware are designed to be washed, which means they can get wet without being ruined.
But now Gary's study is leaking too. He keeps books in there. And a computer. This is not good. Books should not get wet. We're trying to figure out where the contents of his office can go.
A year ago I told the folks at church that the church roof was leaking. Nothing was done. In September, the turkey-dinner committee discovered that the kitchen roof was leaking. The decision to repair was made that week. Bids were obtained, and within 3 weeks the repairman was hired.
He didn't come do it. The roof isn't fixed yet.
Can't be fixed now. Not until spring's thaws.
We had a relatively warm day last week. Almost 30. Because the roof is flat and black, that was enough sunshine to start melting the snow and ice. The church kitchen started getting wet again. The ceiling and walls and cupboards are being damaged. But most of the stuff is safe; dishes, glasses, counters, and silverware are designed to be washed, which means they can get wet without being ruined.
But now Gary's study is leaking too. He keeps books in there. And a computer. This is not good. Books should not get wet. We're trying to figure out where the contents of his office can go.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
"Doublespeak" Revisited
Last week I wrote about the intent of the congregation here to maintain a full-time ministry. Well, Gary was making a hospital visit to one of the officers of the congregation, and they were chatting a bit about the previous week's meeting. That revealed the reasons behind my confusion.
I gotta admit upfront that I think the pay-scale suggested by the district office is high. It's a rare pastor who gets paid the recommended salary. I think a whole lot of congregations aim for somewhere around 75-90% of what's recommended. So when Triune suggested that they'd try to pay Gary 30% of the recommended pay-scale (but that we ought not be caught off-guard if/when it turns out that they only pay 15-25% of scale), it seemed obvious to me that he'd have to be looking for a secular job that would provide at least $25,000 in income. It seemed obvious to me that they wouldn't be expecting a full-time commitment from him if that's all they can provide their pastor.
Turns out that they are. From their point of view, they aren't dropping the salary that much, so there's no reason to think the pastor should change from being available 24/7 to being available only in the spare hours when he's not at a [different] full-time job. So of course he can't get a full-time job.
So that's where their communication didn't quite get through to me initially. We just came with different assumptions.
I gotta admit upfront that I think the pay-scale suggested by the district office is high. It's a rare pastor who gets paid the recommended salary. I think a whole lot of congregations aim for somewhere around 75-90% of what's recommended. So when Triune suggested that they'd try to pay Gary 30% of the recommended pay-scale (but that we ought not be caught off-guard if/when it turns out that they only pay 15-25% of scale), it seemed obvious to me that he'd have to be looking for a secular job that would provide at least $25,000 in income. It seemed obvious to me that they wouldn't be expecting a full-time commitment from him if that's all they can provide their pastor.
Turns out that they are. From their point of view, they aren't dropping the salary that much, so there's no reason to think the pastor should change from being available 24/7 to being available only in the spare hours when he's not at a [different] full-time job. So of course he can't get a full-time job.
So that's where their communication didn't quite get through to me initially. We just came with different assumptions.
And the Mountains in Reply
Angels we have heard on high,
sweetly singing o'er the plains,
And the mountains in reply,
echoing their joyous strains:
Glory be to God in the highest!
The mountains? The song says "the mountains." The mountains are singing too? I always used to think that the mountains were just the big wall for the angels' song to bounce back from. That's what an echo is, right?
But ...
Romans 8 tells us that the whole creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. The creation groans and labors, waiting for deliverance from the futility to which it was subjected.
And ...
Jesus told the grumbling Pharisees that if the children were not praising Him on Palm Sunday, then the rocks themselves would cry out in praise.
And ...
in Psalm 98 (and others) we pray things like: "Let the hills be joyful together before the Lord."
And the mountains in reply,
echoing their joyous strains!
sweetly singing o'er the plains,
And the mountains in reply,
echoing their joyous strains:
Glory be to God in the highest!
The mountains? The song says "the mountains." The mountains are singing too? I always used to think that the mountains were just the big wall for the angels' song to bounce back from. That's what an echo is, right?
But ...
Romans 8 tells us that the whole creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. The creation groans and labors, waiting for deliverance from the futility to which it was subjected.
And ...
Jesus told the grumbling Pharisees that if the children were not praising Him on Palm Sunday, then the rocks themselves would cry out in praise.
And ...
in Psalm 98 (and others) we pray things like: "Let the hills be joyful together before the Lord."
And the mountains in reply,
echoing their joyous strains!
Solstice
We are anxious here to get back to more than 9 hours of daylight per day. I find it interesting, as we approach the 21st, that the collect for the week is imploring Jesus to "hear our prayers and to lighten the darkness of our hearts by Your gracious visitation." And I found it likewise interesting that the antiphon for the 21st is
O Dayspring, splendor of light everlasting:
Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.
O Dayspring, splendor of light everlasting:
Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.
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