What We Eat

In the past week or two, we've been watching a video series for school. Burt Wolf's What We Eat has 13 half-hour segments on food, how it's impacted history, science, culture, etc. Andrew complained a bit about some of the evolutionary mindset, but the political correctness isn't bad as PBS shows go.

The homeschool catalog in which I saw the video-series charged a mere $190 for the series. I obviously was going to the library! Only one copy existed in the statewide library catalog, but we were allowed to interlibrary loan it. However I saw today that Amazon carries the series for about $85, and Burt Wolf's website charges $25. For $25, the series is definitely worth it. This series reminds me somewhat of several of Richard Blunt's articles in Backwoods Home about food's impact on economies and history and cultures.

There was discussion in the series about how wheat and grapes were grown in the New World because of the Catholics' need for the Sacrament.

We learned how jam became popular after sugar's refinement became common. This happened about the same time as the Industrial Revolution. The women were working in the factory and were not home to prepare food for the children. Jam was something that did not require the wee children (home alone) to cook with fire or use knives. It also allowed the workers to have something that didn't take prep-work for dinner.

There was need in France at one point to decrease the peasants' dependence upon wheat as their most staple food. Potatoes were newly available after having been brought over from the Americas, but had not been well received. One scientist decided to plant a large plot of potatoes; he set plenty of guards around the field day and night. What was going on in the field was kept somewhat secret -- at least secret enough to develop interest among onlookers. When it was time to harvest the field, the peasants rushed in, stole as many potatoes as they could get their hands on, took them home, and planted them for themselves. And thus the peasants were enticed into treasuring a food that they had earlier rejected.

Peanuts were the food of the poor people. When the po-folks went to a show, they would, of course, take the cheap seats in the back or in the balcony and snack on peanuts. Thus the term "the peanut gallery."

When Columbus set sail, looking for the Spice Islands, one of the things he was sent to fetch was pepper -- black pepper, the spice. Instead, the natives introduced him to this plant-thing that had a hot flavor to it. He called it "pepper," so he had indeed found "pepper" for enhancing their food.

And these are just a few of the interesting bits gleaned from "What We Eat."

Mallet Finger

There was a play-time at work on Tuesday. Gary's team played kickball against another team. There were dunk-tanks and a barbecue. Gary came home with a sore finger, thinking he must have jammed it. But it didn't have the swelling of a jammed finger. On the third day he went to the doctor. He has "mallet finger" now because of torn tendons around his knuckle. The treatment is splinting it 24/7, because any bending of his finger will pull the tendons away from where they're reattaching, and they'll have to start all over with the healing.

At least he saw the doctor and found out about the treatment. The doctor said that most people will wait for about two weeks for this problem to get better on its own (thinking that it must just be a jammed finger) and then finally go see the doctor. But if you wait that long, the only way to correct the problem is with surgery, or to live with a crippled finger. The six weeks of splint is going to be majorly inconvenient, but at least that's all he's going to have to put up with. I imagine he'll get very good at using his mouse left-handedly. And he thinks he may have to buy velcro-closed shoes for the interim.

He says the splint has helped with the pain too. When we changed the bandage this evening, taking off the splint just to dry it was enough to set him grimacing again.

Flicka

We heard about a good, wholesome horse story that sounded like a movie appropriate for the whole family. In many ways it was. No language, no violence, no sex. An intact family. Set in the West, with lots of outdoorsy activity and scenery. Not sure why it rated a "PG" instead of a "G."

The only thing that bugged me was something about the heroine's attitude toward her father, and how a perfectly decent father was made out to be too insensitive. I've heard people complain that, in the fifth Harry Potter book, Harry was so whiny and self-centered and full of teen-angst, and thought everybody was against him. But that was NOTHIN' in comparison to the heroine in Flicka. Thing is, in Flicka the heroine was held up as wild (a good thing, apparently) and strong/stubborn and self-determined and all that jazz, whereas Harry Potter's somewhat similar qualities were seen as a bad thing.

Green Homeschooling

Just another reason to homeschool: to save the environment.

Our county's recycling propoganda flyer came out today. We are told that the average school-age child generates 67 pounds of garbage per year just from the disposable items in his school lunches. The paper suggested using tupperware containers, cloth napkins, and other ways to cut down on lunch-time trash.

So when I get a block of cheddar out of the fridge, cut it with a knife, and let people munch, I have helped to SAVE the world by not buying individually wrapped cheese sticks. Or when I cook up a pot of rice and put it on ceramic plates and have the children eat it with silverware, then I am SAVING the world because I didn't send them to school with a yogurt cup, a plastic spoon, a paper napkin, and a Twinkie wrapped in plastic.

Good for me. ;-)

Hymn Greeting Cards

I saw these greeting cards at the bookstore when I dropped Paul off at Bethany Lutheran College. They are beautiful, and not very expensive (as cards go). They really grabbed the attention of this hymn addict, because the cover of all these cards is a calligraphied hymn stanza. And, oh, the choice of hymns! I'll put up some pictures of cards later, but for anybody who would like more information right away about "Hymns in My Heart greeting cards," you can request an order form from:
normanmadson at yahoo-dot-com

(Of course, when emailing him, you will have to use the @-sign and the period, as in a normal email address. Writing the edress this way will hopefully help protect Mr Madson from getting too much spam by web-robots who hunt for email addresses on the internet.)

Paul's Clep

And more rejoicing on the clep-front. Paul took the Western Civ I test today, and scored a 68! Wow! With his cleps, a few credits that he took at the local junior college, and taking 16 hours per semester instead of 15, he can knock a semester off his college career. That's a lot of tuition money saved!

Also, since I haven't seen anything on his blog recently, I am taking the liberty to report to grandmas and siblings that his roommate transferred to a different college, and so Paul has his own room now. He is in Choraliers which is the group that puts on the annual musical theatre production. He is also running for student senate.

Too bad homeschooled kids aren't socialized. [snicker giggle guffaw]

Antichrist

Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God, and every spirit that does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is not of God. And this is the spirit of the antichrist, which you have heard was coming, and is now already in the world. (1 John 4:2-3)

I was taught in religion classes in college that our confessions teach that the papacy is the antichrist. I always had a hard time with that, knowing many Roman Catholics who are Christians. And I heard so many of the things the Pope said, and how Christian it sounded. It was explained to me in oh-so-many ways how it is true that the papacy is the antichrist even if the pope himself is a true Christian. Okay, this may be obvious to lots of folks, but it never really made sense to me.

As we have been studying 1 John during Thursday morning Bible class these past months, one thing Pastor has been pointing out is that "the spirit of antichrist" is the doctrine of works-righteousness, in all its many forms. True doctrine is that God took on human flesh, bore our sin, and fully atoned for our rebellion and errors, giving us His holiness, and that our standing before God is entirely in what He has done on our behalf.

I asked about the people who believe that Jesus came in the flesh, was a "good teacher," but was not God. The answer was that "Jesus Christ" means something. It means "Yahweh is salvation" and it reminds us of all the promises of the Anointed One throughout the Old Testament, and who He was, and what He would accomplish. Thus "Jesus Christ has come in the flesh" isn't just about a historical figure, but about the eternal God becoming man so that He might bear the cross so that we don't have to.

Pastor pointed out that, at the time the confessions were written, the papacy had declared Luther's teaching anathema (damnable). The papacy said that anyone who believed that he stood before God, righteous and holy and blameless, fully on account of Christ's death and His blood shed, was going to hell for such a belief. Well, uh, that was kinda sorta "against Christ" (antichrist) doncha think?

And yet, the teaching that causes us to look to our own works, our own goodness, our own merits before God, that teaching was present in the early church prior to the existence of a papacy, and that teaching is present now [gasp] even among us. It is the very essence of the sinful nature, and must "daily be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires."

I don't know about you, but seeing "antichrist" as being works-righteousness (instead of only as the papacy) wraps up a lot of loose ends for me.

Great Faith

Jesus said to the Canaanite woman, "Great is your faith" (Matthew 15:28).

From 1 Corinthians 10: "But God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape that you may be able to bear it."

Do you ever think that God just doesn't have a very good grasp of what you are able to bear? Surely He is overestimating what I can bear! (And yet, even as I question His wisdom in this area, it is nevertheless true that He provides the absolution, which is the way of escape.)

But back a few weeks ago, Pastor said something in the sermon that I had not considered before. How did Jesus know the greatness of the Canaanite woman's faith? It wasn't because He is omniscient and could thus "know" something by observing the woman's faith, something we mere mortals cannot observe. He knew her faith because He created it, He implanted it in her, He sustained it. That's why He knew what it was. So it's not a matter of measuring how big my faith is (with corresponding pats on the backs or "woe-is-me"). It's not about how much bigger I can get my faith to be. But it's entirely what Jesus has done and given and provided.

I believe that I cannot ... believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him. But the Holy Ghost has called me ... and kept me in the true faith!

Appearance Matters

I am practical. I do not do froo-froo. I like to see beautiful flower gardens and lovely homes. I can appreciate someone's being well-dressed and well-coiffed. A well-set table (at somebody's else's home) is something I can oooh and ahhh over. But I am not adept at making things nice and pretty. Especially when it comes to government expenditures, I hate to see money "wasted" on something like interior decorating or great architecture.

I have long been rethinking my perspective on this when it comes to churchly matters. But recently I have begun rethinking it with regard to other buildings too.

The hospital in my home town recently opened a new cancer center. It is gorgeous. The space is bright and open and airy. There is plenty of natural sunlight. There are patios and fireplaces. There are comfortable chairs. There are stations for coffee and pastries. The woodwork is beautiful. There are flowers and good artwork. There is an assortment of books and puzzles and games to pass the time.

The atmosphere in the new building (just from the way the building is constructed and decorated) is so cheery and upbeat that it really seems to make the whole experience of being treated for cancer more pleasant. And that has GOT to be worth something!!!

Worksheets

For the first four kids, we barely used any worksheets. We would buy some workbooks occasionally, but most pages went unused due to the kids' catching on to the concept before using up the practice-pages.

But now I have a kid who needs much more practice on many concepts than can be found in a workbook. Or in several workbooks. I tried hunting websites for worksheets I can print out. What I'm finding is that there are worksheets out there, but they don't provide exactly the practice we are in need of. And it takes so blasted long to hunt through all those websites, and all the different worksheets on the sites.

So this evening I sat down with blank paper and a Sharpie marker, and made up a week's worth of math problems for Maggie. I hate doing that, but it doesn't seem there's much choice. The other thing I'm going to have to do is to sort through all those old hand-me-down workbooks and find the appropos pages to dish out to Maggie.

No-Wax Floors

No-wax floors are a lie perpetrated by flooring manufacturers. I have not been able to get the kitchen floor clean in the new house. We mop, and the next day it's filthy. Finally I decided to give it a few coats of floor wax. Y'know, the good old-fashioned kind that's supposed to go on tile. And suddenly it is so much easier to sweep the floor!

Blog Awards

Recently (spoken by a woman who is aging rapidly and thus time is flying past!) two friends included me in their lists of blog awards. At the time that Paula gave me the "I Love You This Much" award and when Jane gave me the "Brillante Weblog Premio" award, I was overwhelmed with stuff to do, couldn't think about hunting up people upon whom to bestow the award next, and couldn't remember how to cut-n-paste the pictures of the awards onto my blog. So my apologies to you for not keeping up with the program. Well, I decided that today was the day to say THANK YOU to them, and that I am most honored, and that you guys already pegged many of the people upon whom I would pass on the honor,
... and even though I tried, I still can't figure out how to put those pictures on my blog. All I get is this funny little flat rectangle that has a link to the pictures. So I gave up trying to print the award.  Oh well, I NEVER claimed to be technologically savvy.

Psalm 31:3

For You are my rock and my fortress;
therefore, for Your name's sake,
lead me and guide me.

Think about that. Do rocks move? Isn't a fortress known for its stability? So what is this thing about THEREFORE lead me and guide me? Rocks and fortresses are not known for their ability to guide, but to sit in one place.

Our recent Bible stories are from Numbers. Yesterday's story was the instructions to follow where the pillar of fire/cloud went. Today's story told how the children of Israel finally left Sinai after their year camping there, to head out to the Promised Land. (We see in Numbers 10:11 how God let them hang around until the end of the belated Passover celebration for the guys who couldn't celebrate it with the rest of the nation due to their uncleanness.) So with all these stories about the Israelites' sojourn, combined with this weird line from Psalm 31, we have to look at 1 Corinthians 10: For they drank of the spiritual Rock that followed them, and that Rock was Christ. Jesus was with them in the wilderness. Likewise, He is with us, a rock to lead and guide us (however odd that imagery may be if'n we don't know our Old Testament stories).

Pastor had a different point this morning, however. He was comparing the Israelites' sojourn with ours. Jesus talked about taking up our cross and following him. We follow where He leads. (And notice that when the Israelites headed out, the standard, or ensign, of the tribe of Judah --the tribe of the Messiah-- was what went first. Led on their way by this triumphant sign, the hosts of God in conquering ranks combine. Lift high the cross....)

Oh, I'm a Lumberjack and I'm Okay...

Well, at least, I'm okay now.

Tomorrow morning I will wake up with every muscle in my body screaming, "You are too OLD for this! Old. OLD. Old. Middle-aged women on the downhill slope ought not be ought there playing lumberjack all day long!"

Andrew and I were the primary wielders of the chainsaw:
For some reason, I could not get the machine to start for me; it was hard to yank the starter-cord. But Andrew could make the machine work. He also figured out how to put the chain back when I knocked it off, and taught me how to fix the chain too. Impressive, eh?

Here is the poor naked plum tree. It looks pretty pitiful, and even worse in this photo than it looks in real life. You can see what it used to look like when it was full and lush. But the tree was so big that the plums couldn't be reached for harvest. And the tree was too lush, putting more energy into leaves than into fruit. So after years of neglect, it needed some serious pruning. I hope it lives through the trauma. If not, we plant some dwarf fruit trees in its place.
Off to the left, you can see part of the small stack of firewood that was salvaged from the brush pile.

And below we see the pile awaiting the nice man from the township who will be coming through with his chipper/mulcher machine in about five weeks. We have here the two hugely overgrown shrubs from the north end of the house, the top of the cherry tree that was pruned, the top of the plum tree, and the oddly-shaped red pine that Andrew took down a couple of weeks ago. Philip and Maggie did a whole lot of the branch-dragging and yard-raking to clean up the cutting messes the other two of us made.



My souvenir of the day is, well,... uh,... "freckles." After taking such large branches off the plum tree, I got out the aerosol can of pruning sealant. But for one spot, I had put the ladder in the exact wrong place. A downwind spot from where I was spraying. I now have speckled feet, speckled face, speckled neck, and speckled shirt. But my upper arms are a crack-up; I look like a heavily peppered piece o' roast. I done been tarred. (No feathers, though.) After bathing, I still am heavily speckled, but I must be somewhat cleaner since the bottom of the tub looked like it, too, had been well seasoned with ground black pepper!

Cloudy Days

Shakespeare.
Henry IV, part 1.
Act 1, scene 2, lines 205-210.

Prince Hal is giving examples of how we have greater appreciation for blessings when we have to forego them temporarily and then can enjoy their reinstatement. And thus Shakespeare unknowingly commented on Seasonal Affective Disorder:

The sun doth permit the base contagious clouds
to smother up his beauty from the world,
that, when he please again to be himself,
being wanted, he may be more wondered at,
by breaking through the foul and ugly mists
of vapors that did seem to strangle him.

Although, honestly, I personally think it might be okay if I enjoyed the sun while taking it for granted, and not having to rejoice in its return because, after all, it'd been there all along.... Now, really, what would be so bad about that?

Boys' News

Philip had an oops with the razor Monday. The attachment on the end of the beard-trimmer was not the one he thought it was. Once you cut a hole in your beard, the rest of it kinda sorta has to go. So he is currently naked-chinned. He also had a job interview for something that sounds really good; he'll hear about the hiring decision within a week.

Paul took his math CLEP and passed with an impressive 58! (On a test-scale of 20 to 80, fifty is enough to get college credit.) Much rejoicing commenced when we found that message on the answering machine. He has now met his college math requirements and earned 3 more credits. I luv luv luv the math book we use for Algebra 2. Hooray for Paul's hard work in math this summer!

Long Day

Gone 12 hours. Twelve good hours. But still tiring.

Gary took a day off to go with us to see Henry IV. We were happy to hear that Henry V will be playing next summer.
David was surprised by how much Maggie had grown since last summer.

Some interesting things came up in the talk-back about how APT doesn't like to play the plays to tell you what to think about the conclusion. David was saying how it's so easy to force a viewpoint on the audience, and that most companies choose to go that route. But APT likes to leave things more open-ended, so that you get something out of the play that is unique to you and your perspective. Maybe that's why I like their renditions of Shakespeare so much more than other companies' versions; and maybe that's why their plays seem so "Lutheran" to me.

Rachel, did you know Tracy is pregnant? She looks smaller than Katie, but is due sooner. Hey, I guess that's what height does for you. :)

We stopped on the way home and ate the special-of-the-month at Olive Garden. I loved the caprese and Mr Birthday-Boy loved the asiago-garlic alfredo.

The southwest corner of Wisconsin is one of the most beautiful places in the world. If only there were a church nearby that I wanted to attend, it would be a dream place to live.

On the drive over to Spring Green, we passed the Radisson that we stayed at last year (compliments of many dear friends) so that we could shower when we were without our septic system. Seeing the building reminded me of all those loved ones who were so encouraging and supportive during that time.

As thought-provoking as the play was, as lovely as the weather was, as great as the day was, it made me and Gary realize how much we miss being together, and how seldom we see each other and spend time together like we did today. That's the difficult part of the fun-times; it always makes us long for more. More time with each other. Or more time with Tammy's family. More time with Erin's family. More time with Kathy and Laura, or Mom and Dad, or the folks in Indiana. But life just keeps getting in the way of our socializing!

On the way back home, we made a quick stop at the Madison Woodmans. Can't hardly drive by a Woodmans without stopping to pick up a few (or many!) items. We also stopped at Target and picked up a 26" bike for Maggie. The one we chose at the local Target was not quiiite well-constructed, and I wanted to visit a store in another town to buy one that was well-built. So we have high hopes that she will now be able to keep up more easily when we ride to town.

Mamma Mia

With Rachel working at a theatre, we get occasional $1 passes, and thus have been seeing a lot more movies than at any time before in our married life ... even though finding the time to get to a theatre is even harder than paying for it. Anyway, with rain preventing Gary from working on the deck, and with soon-to-expire $1 passes, last week we went to see the Abba-music movie.

It was a cheery and energetic movie. It had Abba songs that I remember enjoying from long ago. But somehow it just wasn't a happy movie. The plot is basically that the mom and daughter were eeking out a living together without the dad. Mom didn't know which man the dad was. Daughter invited all three possible dads to her wedding so that she could figure out which man was her dad. Somehow, as we made our way through the movie, I thought the point was that it was not okay to be raised without your dad, and that the daughter wanted to know her dad, AND to have something better for her own children. One dad didn't want the girl wasting her life and her talents by settling down with a husband. The mom didn't want that either: the daughter had better things to do.

The movie concluded with all parties resolving that it's just fine if we don't know who her dad is, and all the men will just share the dad-ness. And like in Titanic, another conclusion was that the one dad had never been happy with his wife because he was always pining over the girl of his dreams (the mom in this story). And another conclusion was that one of the dads discovered he was actually gay. AND another revolting conclusion was that the girl finally came to her senses, called off the wedding, and decided to just shack up with her honey while they traveled the world.

Okay, you youngsters who liked this movie for the music... WHY does this plot not make you want to throw rotten tomatoes at the screen? Why can the fun music be strong enough to accept this wretched plot?

I think this proves me to be an old fogey.
But I want my 20-something Christian friends to be old-fogeyish that way too.

Yom Kippur

It's late this year. Still weeks away. Usually it's in the second half of September. I'm thinking about this because our Bible story for Friday was Leviticus 16, the Day of Atonement.

Pastor preached in chapel on Friday how the priests pointed to the coming of Jesus, and how the priestly garments pointed to Jesus, and how the mercy seat showed the Old Testament believers something about Jesus, and how the tabernacle foreshadowed Jesus, and how the altar and the sacrifices all pointed to Jesus. All those things find their fulfillment in the cross of Christ. None of them was the real thing, the ultimate thing, in itself. And that's why atonement had to be made, not only for the people and their sins, but also for the altar and the Holy Place.

And that's why I find it lusciously interesting that the Feast of the Holy Cross (September 14) is celebrated right about the same time of year as Yom Kippur was.

And Even More Ludicrous

The Obama campaign is deeply distressed over the mean, vicious, dirty, low-down, scummy lies that the McCain campaign is spreading. Whatever will they do about these ads with the outright lies?

What lies?

I followed hot-links. I hunted online. I googled. Couldn't find the "lies." Finally I found something. The mean terrible lie that the McCain campaign is spreading is that Obama's comment about "putting lipstick on a pig" was a jab at Palin. Well, silly! That comment had absolutely nothing to do with Palin. It wasn't a sexist comment. It wasn't a slur toward her.

ROFLOL!!!!!!