Have you ever looked out of a hotel window, or a hospital window, or some other high-up-in-the-sky room, and noticed that, down below, there's clothing on a roof a couple of stories high? Did you ever wonder how it got there? I have.
I don't anymore.
Let's say, just for a wild and crazy scenario, that a mother on vacation spent the morning at the laundromat. Let's say that when she got all the clean clothes folded, she found ONE shirt, ONE pants, and ONE undies for a certain child. Imagine that when she got back to the hotel room, she found a drawer stuffed full of dirty undies. Imagine that a certain child was given instruction that morning on 1) the importance of putting dirty clothes in the dirty-clothes bag, and 2) how to wash clothes in a sink with shampoo instead of in a washer with Tide. Then said child learns that there is no good place to "line dry" dripping wet clothes in a hotel room. So the clothes are hung over the edge of the balcony in the sunshine. Not a bad solution.
However, imagine that what started as a sunny and totally calm day .... uh, ... changed while the family was out gallavanting around vineyards, wineries, canals, and locks. Y'know, changed to wind and rain. And wind. Imagine that the family returned to their hotel room, much relieved to see that the wind deposited most of the again-dripping-wet clothing onto the patio, but not all of it blew toward the building. Then maybe you could imagine why unmentionables are sometimes unexplicably seen upon rooftops.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Welland Canal
When we decided we were attending the Gerhardt symposium at the St Catharines seminary, we needed to figure out what else we'd do here. Niagara Falls was an easy decision. But what else?
Turned out that about a month ago, we were reading some schoolbooks on transportation which fleshed out a history book we were reading about "American stories." Having read mini-blurbs about the Erie Canal and the Transcontinental Railroad, we extended our reading on those topics. A book on the St Lawrence Seaway had lots of information about the Welland Canal. Well, we'd never heard of it, but it looked like it might be in the same general vicinity. It wasn't just in the general vicinity. Turns out that the canal is only about a mile from our hotel. Yesterday, driving around, we saw one of the locks.
Today we ventured over to the nearest lock. There was a visitors center and a viewing platform. Looked cool. We stood and stared, and we read the signs. We drove past the "flight locks," where there are three locks back-to-back, climbing up the steepest part of the heights (over which the falls crash a few miles away). Happily, there was road construction on the narrow little street directly adjacent to the canal, so we had to stop and look, even though there was no place to park and get out to walk around.
No ships were due through for another 5-6 hours, so we decided to go to a winery and then go back to the hotel to swim. On our way back after the tour, we decided to buzz past the canal, just to see if that ship had started into the lock system on the further end. We were stopped at the drawbridge, waiting for the Winona to pass. Then as she headed upstream, we headed around the corner to Lock #3. We watched her enter the lock. We observed all the things we'd read about earlier: tying up the ship to the bollands, closing the gates, filling the lock with about 22 million gallons of water (which we figured would be ALL the water that about 1000 people would drink in their entire lifetimes), and then saw the ship exit on the south end of the canal. Then we saw the lift bridge raise up for the ship to pass under.
I feel like such a tourist ... but that was SO very cool!
Turned out that about a month ago, we were reading some schoolbooks on transportation which fleshed out a history book we were reading about "American stories." Having read mini-blurbs about the Erie Canal and the Transcontinental Railroad, we extended our reading on those topics. A book on the St Lawrence Seaway had lots of information about the Welland Canal. Well, we'd never heard of it, but it looked like it might be in the same general vicinity. It wasn't just in the general vicinity. Turns out that the canal is only about a mile from our hotel. Yesterday, driving around, we saw one of the locks.
Today we ventured over to the nearest lock. There was a visitors center and a viewing platform. Looked cool. We stood and stared, and we read the signs. We drove past the "flight locks," where there are three locks back-to-back, climbing up the steepest part of the heights (over which the falls crash a few miles away). Happily, there was road construction on the narrow little street directly adjacent to the canal, so we had to stop and look, even though there was no place to park and get out to walk around.
No ships were due through for another 5-6 hours, so we decided to go to a winery and then go back to the hotel to swim. On our way back after the tour, we decided to buzz past the canal, just to see if that ship had started into the lock system on the further end. We were stopped at the drawbridge, waiting for the Winona to pass. Then as she headed upstream, we headed around the corner to Lock #3. We watched her enter the lock. We observed all the things we'd read about earlier: tying up the ship to the bollands, closing the gates, filling the lock with about 22 million gallons of water (which we figured would be ALL the water that about 1000 people would drink in their entire lifetimes), and then saw the ship exit on the south end of the canal. Then we saw the lift bridge raise up for the ship to pass under.
I feel like such a tourist ... but that was SO very cool!
More Trip
I'm sitting in the laundromat. I like laundromats. You get the laundry done SO FAST. It's quiet, and you can read or blog or watch country music videos. Every time I go to a laundromat, I think that it'd be really tempting to make this a part of my week (except for pumping quarters into the machine). But by the time I have little enough laundry to be able to afford it, I won't crave the hour and a half of aloneness that is the corollary to laundromat-time.
I was going to blog about the symposium and all the cool things we picked up there. But my desire to read the kids' blogs overrode my desire to ruminate on hymnology and Gerhardt. So I'll have to do that later, as my dryers don't have enough time on them to do two blogposts.
Mooooo. Apparently Canadians don't depend on dairy like Wisconsinites. The cheese selection at the store is small, and the price is outrageously high. Of course, I'm always stunned by the high grocery prices whenever we're on a trip. Good grief, I'm stunned by high grocery prices simply when I shop in my own county instead of at Woodmans. (I may have mentioned once or twice that I thank God often for Mr Woodman.) Gary told me that he'd heard Canadians pay a lot for groceries. Yowsa. He's right. And the butter. I pay about 40 cents a stick. Here it's $1.40 a stick. Probably eating less dairy is good for them. But the prices make my eyeballs pop outta my face.
We are enchanted driving through the countryside here around Niagara. Orchards and vineyards. That's all you see. No wheat. No corn. No beans. No cows. (Ah, that might explain the high dairy prices.) Just loads and loads of fruit. It's so pretty at this time of year, with the fruit trees all in blossom! The grape vines aren't doing anything yet, but that makes it easy for me to see the variety of ways they look, all bare-bones like, which gives me ideas of what I might do with my overgrown Fredonias (similar to Concords).
We went to see Niagara Falls yesterday after the symposium ended. The water is so clear. The power is overwhelming. The chill surprised me. It's warm this week -- mid 80s. Well, here it's high 20s. (I really made someone's jaw drop when I said our temps had been running in the 50s. I meant it had been cool, but the confused woman must've thought I lived in Death Valley.) Anyway, we were dressed for warm weather, and the temps by the falls were significantly cooler. All that water in the air! All that water rushing past in the rivers! Paul pointed out that you could actually see your breath. Not easily, but just a bit you could. And the tulip beds closest to the falls were just beginning to get buds on them, whereas the ones further from the falls (like a block or so away) were newly budding, whereas the tulips in neighboring suburbs were full and big and getting old. So it's not just my old bones and my decrepit chilliness that gave me such goosebumps yesterday. It kind of stuns the mind to realize that the temperature can be 30 degrees different (15 for you Celsius folks) in the space of a couple of city blocks.
Well, loads more to bore you with, but the dryers turned off and I should start folding clothes.
I was going to blog about the symposium and all the cool things we picked up there. But my desire to read the kids' blogs overrode my desire to ruminate on hymnology and Gerhardt. So I'll have to do that later, as my dryers don't have enough time on them to do two blogposts.
Mooooo. Apparently Canadians don't depend on dairy like Wisconsinites. The cheese selection at the store is small, and the price is outrageously high. Of course, I'm always stunned by the high grocery prices whenever we're on a trip. Good grief, I'm stunned by high grocery prices simply when I shop in my own county instead of at Woodmans. (I may have mentioned once or twice that I thank God often for Mr Woodman.) Gary told me that he'd heard Canadians pay a lot for groceries. Yowsa. He's right. And the butter. I pay about 40 cents a stick. Here it's $1.40 a stick. Probably eating less dairy is good for them. But the prices make my eyeballs pop outta my face.
We are enchanted driving through the countryside here around Niagara. Orchards and vineyards. That's all you see. No wheat. No corn. No beans. No cows. (Ah, that might explain the high dairy prices.) Just loads and loads of fruit. It's so pretty at this time of year, with the fruit trees all in blossom! The grape vines aren't doing anything yet, but that makes it easy for me to see the variety of ways they look, all bare-bones like, which gives me ideas of what I might do with my overgrown Fredonias (similar to Concords).
We went to see Niagara Falls yesterday after the symposium ended. The water is so clear. The power is overwhelming. The chill surprised me. It's warm this week -- mid 80s. Well, here it's high 20s. (I really made someone's jaw drop when I said our temps had been running in the 50s. I meant it had been cool, but the confused woman must've thought I lived in Death Valley.) Anyway, we were dressed for warm weather, and the temps by the falls were significantly cooler. All that water in the air! All that water rushing past in the rivers! Paul pointed out that you could actually see your breath. Not easily, but just a bit you could. And the tulip beds closest to the falls were just beginning to get buds on them, whereas the ones further from the falls (like a block or so away) were newly budding, whereas the tulips in neighboring suburbs were full and big and getting old. So it's not just my old bones and my decrepit chilliness that gave me such goosebumps yesterday. It kind of stuns the mind to realize that the temperature can be 30 degrees different (15 for you Celsius folks) in the space of a couple of city blocks.
Well, loads more to bore you with, but the dryers turned off and I should start folding clothes.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Panic
Ya leave the country. Nobody calls on the cell phone (which is on roaming anyway). Then in the space of three hours, we get three phone calls. Beginning to panic. Calming self with the rationalization that it's just coincidence. But the mommy heart frets that something terrible happened, and people are trying to get hold of us because of a fire or a tornado or an ER visit. Tried to call people. Tried to email. Got no response. The imagination goes wild. Finally one child calls back, and it turns out that she is just trying to find out whether her kombucha turned out all right. Turns out that Gary got a hold of one of the other callers, and he said the discussion could wait until next weekend. So it was all nothing.
I tell myself and tell myself that these people are grown-ups and can take care of themselves. But it's ridiculous how fast my mind can conjecture scary scenarios out of nothing.
I tell myself and tell myself that these people are grown-ups and can take care of themselves. But it's ridiculous how fast my mind can conjecture scary scenarios out of nothing.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Trip
We enjoyed a grand time in Fort Wayne the last couple of days. We stayed with dear friends. We went to church at a place with kneelers and my daughter's favorite Easter hymn. Jane invited a few other homeschool friends over for Saturday evening, and that was a blast!
While in Fort Wayne, we buzzed past the apartment complex that Katie and Nathan will be moving into next month. It sure is nice looking! Wow! Maggie especially likes the scuplted hedges.
On Saturday morning, Gary was checking one last time for the information on getting into Canada. He realized that it could be that the adults, not only the children, would need to prove American citizenship, and that a drivers license and voters registration card wouldn't necessarily be enough. (What do the border-crossing guards know about illegal voting in the US that the Wisconsin legislature does not know??) Anyway, Gary made a quick run to the bank to fetch birth certificates from the safe-deposit box.
The lesson learned yesterday is that you should go potty before crossing the border into another country. A certain child informed us that we had to stop as we were approaching Detroit. But it was a big city and crowded and we were watching roadsigns. We thought we'd have to stop at the border anyway. Well, guess what? After being good little citizens, and hauling out the drivers licenses and the state IDs and the birth certificates, we approached the border. The guard asked where we were from, where we were going, and why. Quite the funny look in his eye when we told him that we were attending a symposium and what the topic was! There was a tourist information bureau just a block or so from the border. Of course, it was closed on a Sunday evening. So no maps. No information on exchanging currency. And worse, no potty. With the twists and turns in the tunnel, it was hard to figure out which way we were supposed to head out of downtown Windsor. So we drove in circles for a while. Thankfully the sun was starting to go down, so that helped with establishing directions. Finally found a gas station, but they had no potties. Drove a little further and found a Subway. So we hurried in a bought something before a little girl exploded. Whew!
The boys kept looking for signs of how different Canada looked from the US. About the only thing they noticed was that the flags have no blue on them, and the word "centre" switched the last two letters. In yesterday's installment the story we are currently reading aloud, the main character crossed the border from Connecticut into New York, the first time in his life he'd been out of his home state. He was disappointed that it didn't look nor feel any different. So my boys had to make the same statements about crossing into Canada. Stinkers!
While in Fort Wayne, we buzzed past the apartment complex that Katie and Nathan will be moving into next month. It sure is nice looking! Wow! Maggie especially likes the scuplted hedges.
On Saturday morning, Gary was checking one last time for the information on getting into Canada. He realized that it could be that the adults, not only the children, would need to prove American citizenship, and that a drivers license and voters registration card wouldn't necessarily be enough. (What do the border-crossing guards know about illegal voting in the US that the Wisconsin legislature does not know??) Anyway, Gary made a quick run to the bank to fetch birth certificates from the safe-deposit box.
The lesson learned yesterday is that you should go potty before crossing the border into another country. A certain child informed us that we had to stop as we were approaching Detroit. But it was a big city and crowded and we were watching roadsigns. We thought we'd have to stop at the border anyway. Well, guess what? After being good little citizens, and hauling out the drivers licenses and the state IDs and the birth certificates, we approached the border. The guard asked where we were from, where we were going, and why. Quite the funny look in his eye when we told him that we were attending a symposium and what the topic was! There was a tourist information bureau just a block or so from the border. Of course, it was closed on a Sunday evening. So no maps. No information on exchanging currency. And worse, no potty. With the twists and turns in the tunnel, it was hard to figure out which way we were supposed to head out of downtown Windsor. So we drove in circles for a while. Thankfully the sun was starting to go down, so that helped with establishing directions. Finally found a gas station, but they had no potties. Drove a little further and found a Subway. So we hurried in a bought something before a little girl exploded. Whew!
The boys kept looking for signs of how different Canada looked from the US. About the only thing they noticed was that the flags have no blue on them, and the word "centre" switched the last two letters. In yesterday's installment the story we are currently reading aloud, the main character crossed the border from Connecticut into New York, the first time in his life he'd been out of his home state. He was disappointed that it didn't look nor feel any different. So my boys had to make the same statements about crossing into Canada. Stinkers!
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Lilacs
All year I look forward to the lilacs and the crab apples blooming. That week, I go out of my way to find things to do outside. Sometimes I prepare my lectures for the state homeschool convention, sitting out by the lilacs. Sometimes I go outside with mending or editing, and just sit on a blanket in the sun, enjoying the perfumed air.
The flowers are about ready to blossom. We're leaving for a week. I knew this would happen when we were considering planning the trip. I hope the flowers where we go will be ready next week so I don't miss it altogether.
The flowers are about ready to blossom. We're leaving for a week. I knew this would happen when we were considering planning the trip. I hope the flowers where we go will be ready next week so I don't miss it altogether.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Jail
The top headline in yesterday's newspaper was Your Jail Is Awful. And the quote from the consultant hired to analyze the situation was, "You folks, as citizens of this community, need to be embarrassed by your jail."
Ya gotta wonder what "jail" means anymore.
Ya gotta wonder what "jail" means anymore.
Wedding Dresses
Two girls who both intended to wear my wedding dress. When Katie and Rachel were looking for Rachel's bridesmaid dress last summer, Katie found a white prom dress that begged her, "Please, please, buy me and wear me for your wedding." So she acquiesced to the dress's demands, plunked down $30, and brought home a very nice dress.
We could claim last night was deja vu ... except for the physical proof of yet another wedding dress appearing in the house. Looking for Katie's bridesmaid dress last night, a dress whispered in Rachel's ear, insisting that it be tried on. So she did. And she too brought home a very pretty dress.
Good thing those girls made both their ventures on their own, without Mom. If I'd been along, my frugality would've definitely been the wet blanket: why spend money on a wedding dress (even if it's only $50 or $30) when there's one at home that fits and looks nice on you? But they have gorgeous dresses, and they had fun doing the shopping.
We could claim last night was deja vu ... except for the physical proof of yet another wedding dress appearing in the house. Looking for Katie's bridesmaid dress last night, a dress whispered in Rachel's ear, insisting that it be tried on. So she did. And she too brought home a very pretty dress.
Good thing those girls made both their ventures on their own, without Mom. If I'd been along, my frugality would've definitely been the wet blanket: why spend money on a wedding dress (even if it's only $50 or $30) when there's one at home that fits and looks nice on you? But they have gorgeous dresses, and they had fun doing the shopping.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Children at Funerals
Emily wrote a great piece last week about taking her children to a funeral.
I remember getting taken to plenty of funerals when I was little. The funerals weren't usually people I knew, although they were probably friends of my mom or grandma. Somehow, that worked its way into my brain as the idea that people from church belong at funerals. After all, if we're the church family, then we belong at the church funeral every bit as much as the blood family. Although one pastor suggested that it's a pitiful sight to see people at a funeral who aren't family/friends, I know a lot more pastors who want to see the rest of the congregation at a funeral.
And like Emily mentioned, it makes it easier to teach children about funerals and death when the heartache isn't overwhelming and the busyness (of funeral preparations) isn't taking up all the parents attention.
I remember getting taken to plenty of funerals when I was little. The funerals weren't usually people I knew, although they were probably friends of my mom or grandma. Somehow, that worked its way into my brain as the idea that people from church belong at funerals. After all, if we're the church family, then we belong at the church funeral every bit as much as the blood family. Although one pastor suggested that it's a pitiful sight to see people at a funeral who aren't family/friends, I know a lot more pastors who want to see the rest of the congregation at a funeral.
And like Emily mentioned, it makes it easier to teach children about funerals and death when the heartache isn't overwhelming and the busyness (of funeral preparations) isn't taking up all the parents attention.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Sewing
Maggie outgrew an elastic-waist skirt she loved. She was wanting another skirt. We looked in stores and found absolutely nothing that was okay. So we hit up Goodwill, thinking that the styles there are often more acceptable. But we found nothing on several trips. So I convinced myself that I was going to have to sew. I used to love sewing, but now it's one more thing that I can't fit into my schedule.
I picked a really simple pattern. It only took 2-3 hours to put the skirt together. But the nicest part was having something DONE. Y'know, DONE done. Not like weeding or washing dishes or mowing grass or vacuuming. A project that got done and stayed done!
I remember back when Gary was in school, and to earn a little money I started typing term papers for guys. When the first paper was done, I didn't want to give it to the guy. I'd finished typing that term paper, and 15 hours later it was still nice and neat, with white margins, and the pages still in order. What excitement!
A friend of mine who's a schoolteacher took a break for a couple of years. He apprenticed as a cabinet-maker. Having a project stay DONE was an enjoyable part of that job. He could work on a project for a limited time, get nice results that SHOWED, and the job would stay done. That's not like the work a teacher does or a housewife does.
Maybe that's the attraction of knitting or sewing or refinishing. When your days are consumed picking away at a 30-year project, it is awfully nice to have tangible results from your efforts now and then.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Oh, by the way, as long as we're on a "housekeeping" tag, I want to point out an article that Drudge linked to today. They say that an average housewife's work is worth $138,000/yr and that she puts in a 92-hour work-week. I think I'm under-insured....
I picked a really simple pattern. It only took 2-3 hours to put the skirt together. But the nicest part was having something DONE. Y'know, DONE done. Not like weeding or washing dishes or mowing grass or vacuuming. A project that got done and stayed done!
I remember back when Gary was in school, and to earn a little money I started typing term papers for guys. When the first paper was done, I didn't want to give it to the guy. I'd finished typing that term paper, and 15 hours later it was still nice and neat, with white margins, and the pages still in order. What excitement!
A friend of mine who's a schoolteacher took a break for a couple of years. He apprenticed as a cabinet-maker. Having a project stay DONE was an enjoyable part of that job. He could work on a project for a limited time, get nice results that SHOWED, and the job would stay done. That's not like the work a teacher does or a housewife does.
Maybe that's the attraction of knitting or sewing or refinishing. When your days are consumed picking away at a 30-year project, it is awfully nice to have tangible results from your efforts now and then.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Oh, by the way, as long as we're on a "housekeeping" tag, I want to point out an article that Drudge linked to today. They say that an average housewife's work is worth $138,000/yr and that she puts in a 92-hour work-week. I think I'm under-insured....
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Multi-Tasking
What do you call it when you do two things at the same time? Most people would answer, "Multi-tasking." But a stay-at-home mom would answer, "A vacation."
Monday, April 30, 2007
But I Had Plans!
It's nice when children take initiative. It's nice when somebody (who's not me!) decides to clean. It's nice to declutter.
But I had other plans today.
A very helpful and industrious child decided to do some closet cleaning. That would've been great, except he doesn't have the authority to start pitching items into the dumpster, so he had to consult with me about it. Argh -- that takes brain cells! And he wanted to move some things around. That also required consulting with the mother-person, seeing as how she would go looking for items that had beenhidden moved and get frustrated later. (HA! Who's she fooling? Just because she knows at this moment THAT those things have been moved and WHERE they've been moved to, has NOTHING to do with the reality that she will not remember this stuff three days from now!)
So a lot of schoolwork got put on hold today, and so did a lot of other projects. My brain can only handle so much decision-making and thinking in one day. And I wasn't even prepped up and geared for dumpster-decisions. Those questions caught me totally off-guard, so they required twice the depth of thought. My thinker is pooped, and we haven't even picked up the physics book yet today.
But two closets are cleaned and organized, and the dumpster was fed a feast of junk.
But I had other plans today.
A very helpful and industrious child decided to do some closet cleaning. That would've been great, except he doesn't have the authority to start pitching items into the dumpster, so he had to consult with me about it. Argh -- that takes brain cells! And he wanted to move some things around. That also required consulting with the mother-person, seeing as how she would go looking for items that had been
So a lot of schoolwork got put on hold today, and so did a lot of other projects. My brain can only handle so much decision-making and thinking in one day. And I wasn't even prepped up and geared for dumpster-decisions. Those questions caught me totally off-guard, so they required twice the depth of thought. My thinker is pooped, and we haven't even picked up the physics book yet today.
But two closets are cleaned and organized, and the dumpster was fed a feast of junk.
Psalm 119:176
"I have gone astray like a lost sheep;
seek Your servant,
for I do not forget Your commandments."
Here's another place where it shows us that we are simultaneously saint and sinner. Think about it: if we do not forget His commandments, then how have we gone astray? Why do we need to be sought for?
And a couple of verses earlier -- "I long for Your salvation, O Lord, and Your law is my delight." If this psalm is about knowing the rules, and conforming our behavior to the rules, then why do we need salvation? Just for our oopsies? Or could it be that Christianity isn't really about behavior? Could it be that the delight is in the law/Torah and the gracious promises of God found there?
seek Your servant,
for I do not forget Your commandments."
Here's another place where it shows us that we are simultaneously saint and sinner. Think about it: if we do not forget His commandments, then how have we gone astray? Why do we need to be sought for?
And a couple of verses earlier -- "I long for Your salvation, O Lord, and Your law is my delight." If this psalm is about knowing the rules, and conforming our behavior to the rules, then why do we need salvation? Just for our oopsies? Or could it be that Christianity isn't really about behavior? Could it be that the delight is in the law/Torah and the gracious promises of God found there?
Grading Papers?
You know you're a homeschool mommy when you're taking your shower, and the bathroom door opens and a child yells "18 x 6 = 108??" "Yes, it is." Then, 20 or 30 seconds later, the bathroom door opens and the child yells "17 x 7 = 119??" "Yes, it is." And then, 20 or 30 seconds later, it happens again: "13 x 8 = 104??" "Yes, it is." And so forth.
Y'know, I hear tell that some teachers actually "grade papers" while sitting at a desk, dry and clothed, with an actual piece of paper in front of them, and a red pen in hand.
Well, I suppose my way saves time, if not privacy and solitude in the bathroom.
Y'know, I hear tell that some teachers actually "grade papers" while sitting at a desk, dry and clothed, with an actual piece of paper in front of them, and a red pen in hand.
Well, I suppose my way saves time, if not privacy and solitude in the bathroom.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Psalm 119:resh
All that reviving. "Revive me according to Your word." "Revive me according to Your judgments." "Revive me, O Lord, according to Your lovingkindness."
The old King James says quicken. Revive is like "vivify again." Wow -- this is about making alive, not about just pumping up or re-energizing or encouraging. I think it's interesting how even as I claim to be a faithful Christian (verses 153b, 157b, 159a) there is -- at one and the same time -- the admission that I am dead, an unbeliever, one who needs to be made alive.
The old King James says quicken. Revive is like "vivify again." Wow -- this is about making alive, not about just pumping up or re-energizing or encouraging. I think it's interesting how even as I claim to be a faithful Christian (verses 153b, 157b, 159a) there is -- at one and the same time -- the admission that I am dead, an unbeliever, one who needs to be made alive.
It Figures
About ten years ago, Gary convinced me to try to do some writing and make some money off of it. I researched some possibilities and sent in some things. They liked what I sent, but the rules had changed and they were no longer paying for such things.
About eight years ago, I sent in a tiny little story (a joke) to a big, well-known secular magazine that many of you subscribe(d) to. They printed it. I never received the check.
The next time I was urged to try to make some money writing, I sent in a story to a magazine. The editor responded that she loved it, but the rules had changed and they no longer printed short articles.
The next time the bug bit, my article was accepted. The going rate was about $50-100 per article. The payment never arrived. When I looked up the information on whom to contact about it, I saw that (beginning with the issue in which my article was printed) they no longer pay the authors of the articles.
I think God wants me to work at Burger King. He doesn't seem keen on the idea that anyone would hand me money for writing, regardless of what my husband thinks.
About eight years ago, I sent in a tiny little story (a joke) to a big, well-known secular magazine that many of you subscribe(d) to. They printed it. I never received the check.
The next time I was urged to try to make some money writing, I sent in a story to a magazine. The editor responded that she loved it, but the rules had changed and they no longer printed short articles.
The next time the bug bit, my article was accepted. The going rate was about $50-100 per article. The payment never arrived. When I looked up the information on whom to contact about it, I saw that (beginning with the issue in which my article was printed) they no longer pay the authors of the articles.
I think God wants me to work at Burger King. He doesn't seem keen on the idea that anyone would hand me money for writing, regardless of what my husband thinks.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Reviewing Goals
This week I worked on reviewing our school goals, seeing what's been achieved, what needs to be made a higher priority, what needs to be added to the list, etc. It would be so much easier, in a way, to just buy a stack of books every August, work our way through, and then say that we're done. But I can't. There's so much more to education than that! There are so many fantastically intriguing things to learn! There are so many mind-expanding ideas to expose the kids too! There are so many books ... and so little time!
I've been trying very very hard for the last two school years to cut back DEEPLY on the school goals. Otherwise, my grand plans are simply unachievable. Looking back over the last several sets of school goals, I saw that we had indeed accomplished a lot of them. But there's so much more we could do. Of course, if we did school for 10 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, we still wouldn't accomplish all the things we should. Besides, my read-aloud teacher-voice would never hold out for that anyway.
Now comes the hard part. Again. Paring back the amount of stuff we "should" do to a list of schoolwork that we actually CAN do. And then the harder part: being satisfied with leaving so much undone.
I've been trying very very hard for the last two school years to cut back DEEPLY on the school goals. Otherwise, my grand plans are simply unachievable. Looking back over the last several sets of school goals, I saw that we had indeed accomplished a lot of them. But there's so much more we could do. Of course, if we did school for 10 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, we still wouldn't accomplish all the things we should. Besides, my read-aloud teacher-voice would never hold out for that anyway.
Now comes the hard part. Again. Paring back the amount of stuff we "should" do to a list of schoolwork that we actually CAN do. And then the harder part: being satisfied with leaving so much undone.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Ethanol
We hear a lot about ethanol usage recently. They're even planning to build an ethanol plant in our tiny little township.
Yesterday I mentioned that there are two gas stations available in the nearby city that sell real gas. In other words, ethanol-free. My dad asked why I'd want the non-ethanol gas. I said because you get worse mileage with ethanol-laced gas. He asked why I didn't want to support the farmers.
Well, how many reasons do I want to take space for?
For one thing, there's the study released from Stanford University last week. Environment Science and Technology Online reported that E-85 (the high-ethanol gas) actually creates more pollution and ozone, and thus will be more damaging to health than gasoline made from oil. The scientist even projected how many hundreds of people would die annually because of the switch to higher use of ethanol.
Ethanol costs more to the consumer because you need more of it to get somewhere.
Ethanol uses so much fuel in being produced (such as the tractors necessary to do the farming) that the savings in gasoline are consumed in the production of alternative fuel.
And then there's the cost of corn. Sure, high corn prices puts money in the pocket of the farmers who grow corn. But what about the farmers who are buying feed-corn for their hogs and cows and laying hens? They're hurting already, and it's going to get worse.
And then there are the direct food prices. Germans are upset over rising beer prices and there were riots in Mexico over skyrocketing tortilla prices.
Being less dependent on foreign oil is something America needs to work on. But we don't need ethanol. We have oil. We just haven't been willing to put in more pipelines from Alaska or pump more oil out of the Gulf.
As for the choice between ethanol and gasoline, I'm planning to keep buying my real gas as long as possible. It's all for the sake of environmental cleanliness, of course.
Yesterday I mentioned that there are two gas stations available in the nearby city that sell real gas. In other words, ethanol-free. My dad asked why I'd want the non-ethanol gas. I said because you get worse mileage with ethanol-laced gas. He asked why I didn't want to support the farmers.
Well, how many reasons do I want to take space for?
For one thing, there's the study released from Stanford University last week. Environment Science and Technology Online reported that E-85 (the high-ethanol gas) actually creates more pollution and ozone, and thus will be more damaging to health than gasoline made from oil. The scientist even projected how many hundreds of people would die annually because of the switch to higher use of ethanol.
Ethanol costs more to the consumer because you need more of it to get somewhere.
Ethanol uses so much fuel in being produced (such as the tractors necessary to do the farming) that the savings in gasoline are consumed in the production of alternative fuel.
And then there's the cost of corn. Sure, high corn prices puts money in the pocket of the farmers who grow corn. But what about the farmers who are buying feed-corn for their hogs and cows and laying hens? They're hurting already, and it's going to get worse.
And then there are the direct food prices. Germans are upset over rising beer prices and there were riots in Mexico over skyrocketing tortilla prices.
Being less dependent on foreign oil is something America needs to work on. But we don't need ethanol. We have oil. We just haven't been willing to put in more pipelines from Alaska or pump more oil out of the Gulf.
As for the choice between ethanol and gasoline, I'm planning to keep buying my real gas as long as possible. It's all for the sake of environmental cleanliness, of course.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Stroke
My friend Kathy forwarded an email to me a few weeks ago on the topic of recognizing signs of stroke. It's often hard to recognize when a stroke is occurring until it's too late. If stroke symptoms are caught early, something can be done to help. Clot-busting drugs can be given IF it is within the first three hours after the clot blocks the artery. Naturopaths have found good results with cayenne: if the stroke victim is conscious, drinking a teaspoon of cayenne in a cup of water may solve the problem as as he's being transported to the hospital.
The warning signs are S T R -- a mnemonic device from the first three letters of the word stroke.
S -- ask the person to smile.
T -- ask the person to talk, to speak a simple sentence such as "It's sunny today."
R -- ask the person to raise both arms.
If the person has trouble doing any one of these, call 911 or head straight to the hospital. Quick thinking to obtain early treatment may prevent paralysis or save a person's ability to speak, or even save a life.
The warning signs are S T R -- a mnemonic device from the first three letters of the word stroke.
S -- ask the person to smile.
T -- ask the person to talk, to speak a simple sentence such as "It's sunny today."
R -- ask the person to raise both arms.
If the person has trouble doing any one of these, call 911 or head straight to the hospital. Quick thinking to obtain early treatment may prevent paralysis or save a person's ability to speak, or even save a life.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Psalm 119
Y'all probably wonder why I'm going on and on about Psalm 119. It's just that I hated it for so long. I'm such a legalist that I couldn't hear it in any way other than pats on the back for myself for being such an obedient person. And I chafed at that. I couldn't be as obedient as I ought. So I tried to avoid Psalm 119 whenever it came up in the psalm-chart cycle. But last time we got to it (two months ago) I decided to try reading it again. And I loved it! Yes yes yes! It was great! And now I'm so excited about it.
Like when we read keeping God's law. If keeping is "obeying," that means something totally different from keeping as "hanging onto."
And testimonies. What if God's testimonies are kinda sorta like His "testament"?
And each set of 8 verses seems to have something somewhere about mercy.
And what if we look at those places where it says "Your Word" as if it is not only the enscriptured Word but also the incarnate Word? "Forever, O Lord, Your Word is settled in the heavens." And "that I may keep Your Word."
Like when we read keeping God's law. If keeping is "obeying," that means something totally different from keeping as "hanging onto."
And testimonies. What if God's testimonies are kinda sorta like His "testament"?
And each set of 8 verses seems to have something somewhere about mercy.
And what if we look at those places where it says "Your Word" as if it is not only the enscriptured Word but also the incarnate Word? "Forever, O Lord, Your Word is settled in the heavens." And "that I may keep Your Word."
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