Math for Medical Professionals

It looks to me as though Andrew has been doing well at math. His test grades are great. But he doesn't feel as though he has an adequate grasp of it. We talked to the director of the nursing program at the local college about math. She confirmed what I suspected: it's far more important that he be very comfortable with the arithmetic and pre-algebra that is used extensively in nursing than it is that he graph functions, manipulate matrices, and compute with imaginary numbers.

So it's time to put away the College Algebra book and come up with a math program that better suits his goals.

I began to research what kinds of math we needed to focus on. Graphs. Statistics. Conversions. Metric. Ratios -- lots of ratios and percents. And so much more. As I began to cobble together resources from the library with the books sitting on our basement shelves, it finally crossed my mind that maybe I should sell this program after I put the work into developing it.

And then [light-bulb moment] I wondered if anyone had already created this math course. Some online sleuthing confirmed that someone had! Woo hoo!!!! The book arrived in only six days, and it looks perfect. There is only one thing on my list (understanding a 3-D reality from a series of 2-D pictures, such as in an MRI) that isn't covered in this book.

Flipping through the textbook I see a few topics that aren't explained clearly enough, or where a key point was left out. But if it's something that Andrew hasn't been exposed to elsewhere, I should be able to fill in the gap. The answer key is online, not in the back of the book. That's a little inconvenient; I had to fork over my name and address and all that jazz to create an account where I could access the answer key. I suppose I could have just graded the homework assignments myself. But I didn't want to. :-)

So anyway, I am hyped to have discovered this book that will save me many hours. It will allow Andrew to plug away at teaching himself instead of having to wait on me while I'm making supper instead of developing new lessons. Hooray!

Today's Laugh

A cartoon for middle-aged women who are thinking ahead to Thanksgiving dinner.

Growing in Faith

Listening to Pastor Petersen on Issues Etc (July 15, 2010) as I cleaned today --

As you grow in faith, experientially, the way we feel it, it feels like we're getting worse, because the stronger your faith is, the weaker it feels. Strong faith never says, "I'm strong." St Paul writes, "When I am weak, then I am strong." Faith is at its strongest when it is at its weakest because that is when it is most dependent upon grace, upon Jesus Christ.

Then he goes on to describe how we might feel on Christmas Eve when we're sentimental and surrounded by family and singing about Jesus being born. When we have a spiritual mountaintop experience and are happy, then we feel that our faith is strong. Contrast that to when we're in the emergency room with a loved one who may die, when we are heartbroken, when we are terrified and cannot pray anything but "Lord, have mercy."

Quoting again:

Sanctification, a process of growing in faith, growing in good works, is a strange process in that there is a growth. But we don't feel it like a growth. We become more aware of our sins the holier we become.

Today's Laugh

A Non Sequitur cartoon about the Wilderness Wanderings.

Luke's "Immanuel"

In Matthew's gospel (and only Matthew's gospel) the angel tells Joseph that Mary's Son shall be named Jesus, for He is the one prophesied in Isaiah: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son and shall call His name Immanuel which is translated, "God with us."

But look at Luke. Gabriel comes to Mary. He comes to the virgin to announce the birth of the Messiah. Mary checks on his story: how she could bear a Son when she has not known a man? Sure enough, the angel's answer meshes with the prophecy of Isaiah 7. But not only that, the angel greets her with "The Lord is with you." That too rings true with the same portion of Isaiah's prophecy which names Him Immanuel.

The Most Expensive Hamburger Ever

Yesterday started with difficulty. But we did some schoolwork, and that was good.

We went to a public health immunization clinic to begin catching up Andrew on his shots before he starts nurses' training. Happily we discovered that the rules changed and that they now allow 18-yr-olds to get shots at public health. Not only that, he pays at the kids' rate for 10 more months. We should be able to get him caught up by then if we're diligent about being there nearly every time.

Then we hit the library and bumped into one of Andrew's bosses. Andrew introduced me, and Ken had so many good things to say about Andrew and his intelligence and his work ethic. He said they'd love to have all their employees be just like Andrew. Yeah! So that was happy.

Then I had to make a trip over to Watertown to pick up our quarter of a beef. A suicidal deer crossed the highway. I saw her and slowed down a lot before we collided. (Shoot, I wonder now, if I had gunned it, maybe she would have just clipped the back of the car instead?) I am fine; the van was drivable; the airbag did not deploy. I came home, put the beef in the freezer, and noticed the engine steaming. This morning we discover that we need to fix
-- the headlights
-- the left blinker
-- the grill
-- the radiator
-- the condenser for the AC (optional)
-- the hood (optional).
There's no insurance; this is the van that was totaled when a guy blew off a stop sign directly in front of me three years ago. So we get to pay for this out of pocket or start hunting for a new vehicle or start walking/biking.

After I pay the farmer who raised the cow, the butcher, and the car repairs, this is going to be $10/pound hamburger. Do you ever wonder why you even try?

He Has Visited His People

In recent years I have been pondering Jesus' words to the Emmaus disciples when He "expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself" (Luke 24). I've been watching for little bits of Jesus hidden in the Old Testament, things that those saints would have seen as God's working on their behalf, but may not have recognized to be specifically about the Messiah. With hindsight we can see some of those references to Jesus. In the same way, you know there are things in the Bible that we scratch our heads over now, things which will be obvious at the Last Day. Anyway, it's fun to be able to look at those stories with Jesus in view. Not long ago we had the story of Ruth.

Naomi and her family left Bethlehem during a famine. They went to Moab. About ten years later, when the three men had died, Naomi heard that "Yahweh had visited His people by giving them bread" (Ruth 1:6).

Now, I am totally clear on the fact that there had been a famine and it had ended. God was giving them food for their bellies. This is straight-up history.

But this is also a theological truth about Jesus. The story of Ruth does not inform us that God gave them food; it says He gave them bread. When the Bread of Life (still in His momma's womb) had been staying with Zachariah and Elizabeth, Zachariah sang, "The Lord God of Israel has visited and redeemed His people" (Luke 1:68).

Next Sunday, when we see the Bread of Life on the altar and taste Him on our tongues, we will know that Yahweh has visited us, His people.

Honor Your Father and Your Mother

A loving dad or mom will teach the children to honor the parents. It better not be an ego-trip for the parents. Honoring the authorities has the benefit of maintaining order in the family or in society. But another very important reason to teach children to honor parents (and teach Christians to honor their pastors) is so that the children will not become self-centered. Honoring parents forces the children to focus outside themselves instead of indulging their own desires and own plans. And that is a good thing for the children, their family, their neighbors, and their own souls.

Suppose There Were 50 Righteous

Our Bible story today was Abraham's prayer the day before Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. You know the story. The Lord comes to Abraham and tells him what He's going to do. Abraham intercedes. If there are fifty righteous, would You spare the city? 45? 40? 30? 20? 10? And the Lord promised to spare the city if He could find ten Christians there. This story is often told to encourage us in prayer: be bold, be persistent, ask according to the promise!

We know the end of the story. That day, as he was praying, Abraham didn't know the end of the story. That night he didn't know the end of the story. The next morning, Abraham woke up early and went out to the place he had begged the Lord to spare the cities (Genesis 19:27). And what did he find when he looked toward Sodom? The city had been zotted big-time!

Does it look to Abraham as if the Lord cared about his prayer?

The Bible doesn't even tell us how long it was before Abraham got word that Lot and his daughters were still alive. Next thing we know, Abraham is down south, passing off Sarah as his sister again. And God blesses him with more wealth, gives him his wife back, and then gives them a son -- keeping His promise even when Abraham faltered.

You know what? I think this story isn't so much for "prayer warriors" as it is for those of us who pray and don't see "results."

Job Satisfaction

Sometimes it comes up in conversation that Andrew is looking at colleges. A few months ago he was considering what he might want to study, what career he might like. Acquaintances would inquire. And that's when I got the shocker.

Nobody seems to like what they do.

When we said that he was considering law enforcement or security, we were told by cops or ex-cops that that would be a terrible profession to enter. Too dangerous. Too political.

When we said that he was considering computer work or engineering, people told us what was wrong with that.

When we said he thought he might be a nurse, he was told how horrible that was, especially with all the record-keeping that can seem like it takes priority over patient-care.

Teachers and day-care workers have told me how terrible their jobs are. Children are undisciplined and mean; parents are blindly protective of Little Junior who would never do anything wrong.

Small-business owners know the troubles of taxes and regulations and finding good employees. Factory workers are tired of the mundane work and the health repercussions. Pastors are frustrated with the low pay and never-ending needs. Clerical workers develop carpel tunnel syndrome and must tolerate business/marketing lingo. Chefs and cooks put in many years at poverty-level salaries and work late hours and long weekends. Maids clean up after piggy slobs who 'get back at the man' by leaving a bigger mess than would be normal.



I've been trying to figure out why so many people discourage kids from going into their line of work. Is this a societal problem, and nurses and teachers and policemen and maids really are serving a nasty populace? Is this a change in employers, and how they see employees as just another [replaceable] cog in the machinery of creating a product? Or do we all desire vacation and retirement, resenting our work because jobs thwart our fun-time?

Trying Another Resume

Upon watching election returns, I came to agree with Gary that the opening at the bank might be more attractive than the opening at the library. At this point, the private sector seems a little more secure than jobs for a government entity. I prepared a resumé for the bank, filled out the application, and dropped it off today. The assistant manager was smiling from ear to ear when she saw me walk in with the application.

It is quite intimidating to sketch out your life in minimalistic words, drop it off for a stranger to evaluate, and wonder if they will recognize any value in your life & work & intelligence & worth.

Grandbabies

Because some of y'all are not Facebook-friends with my kids, I would like to announce that I have two pregnant daughters. Katie is due in late April. Rachel is due about the third week of July. This should be fun!

Moving

It was a busy week. Katie and Nathan and Alia began moving into their new apartment last Saturday. That took a couple of days. Tuesday morning was the first day we woke up and Alia wasn't here. Oh, sadness! Sunshine has moved over to the other side of town. When they located the apartment a month ago, Andrew summarized how much we'd miss them with "But with Alia here, there's always something FUN to do. It's never boring with her around!" (Maggie, on the other hand, responded to news of Katie's new place with "But then who's going to do all the cleaning??" Boy, I bet Katie feels loved....)

Tuesday it was time to begin resettling ourselves back into the vacated spots, moving contents of cupboards, bookshelves, closets, and Andrew's bedroom. Gary thought it would be good to spruce up the bedroom while it was empty -- something we never did when we moved in. So we suddenly bought paint and went at it. (Painting is NOT something I do on a whim. It's something I fret about plan for ... for maybe a year or two. I do not rush into painting. This was weird.) Andrew did a vast majority of the work.

Yesterday I finally finished all the rearranging and crossed "moving" off the to-do list. It took a while because also we had a funeral this week, some time watching election returns and cheering, and then a college visit, which necessitated a pow-wow over Andrew's final year of homeschool curriculum and how we can best serve his plans.

Footnote 1 -- Katie and Nathan live 10 minutes away from us. They are about a mile from church, one block from the post office, one block from a small playground, and half-mile to the library & doozy playground. I should get some pictures, but right now parking over there is hard (in other words, it's illegal) because of construction on their street. Pretty soon.

Footnote 2 -- Across the front lawn of their apartment, across the road, across the empty lot, there is a train track. I haven't heard yet if Wheel-Girl has been mesmerized by the train, but it should provide some good entertainment for her.

Footnote 3 -- Can you believe that picture of Andrew painting? Edging along the ceiling without a ladder or a stepstool!

Cute Alia

When Alia and Katie came over today, at one point Alia suddenly went running down the hall -- probably to try to use the telephone. When she rounded the corner into my bedroom, she exclaimed over and over, "What. Happened. What. Happened?" When I caught up with her, I had no idea what had happened; I didn't see any evidence of a toddler-crime being committed. "I don't know, Alia. What happened?" She patted the stripped bed's mattress pad. "What. Happened?" Oh! She had never seen our bed while the sheets were being washed! That surprise sure caught her up short!



We spent about an hour raking and hauling leaves to the garden this afternoon. I was about to put the last batch into one of the long-empty raised beds. I noticed that some of the spring spinach had gone to seed and we had some baby spinach coming up there alongside the weeds. So before burying them under the leaves-for-compost, I nibbled some utterly delectable spinach. Alia showed up at my side. Desiring to brainwash the child expose her to more treats from the garden, I said, "Mmmmm! Spinach! Yummy yummy! Do you want some?" Of course she did. But when it went in her mouth, she wasn't so sure. "Mmmm. Here's more spinach for Grandma. OH, this is SO good." And I munched several more leaves, asked her if she wanted more, and she hesistantly accepted. Within ten minutes we had eaten all the baby spinach in the raised bed. She had tried to nab some ground ivy and some grass and some overgrown dandelion and some plantain. "No, Alia, those will taste nasty. Only eat what Grandma or Mommy gives you from the garden. This one is spinach -- yum yum. That one is ground ivy -- nasty. This other one is spinach -- yummy. No, don't eat the grass; that will taste nasty."


So after we wipe out the spinach and fill the bed with leaves, she runs around the backyard and plays. And then she found the spinach rows in the main garden. She picked them and ate them. "Yum, yum. Grandma 'pinach?" "Yes, Alia, I would love some; thank you; it's good!" And she knew what plants near the spinach not to eat. Pretty soon Katie made her way to the back yard and informed me that Alia does not like spinach.

I do love brainwashing children.

An Everlasting Covenant

Today's Bible story was the Lord's covenant with Abraham, the name-change from Abram, and circumcision.

Genesis 17:13 is an amazing promise: "My covenant shall be in your flesh for an everlasting covenant."

That's not just about circumcision. That applies to so many ways that God is incarnational. The covenant of circumcision showed in a man's flesh. But what about the Passover which was established as an everlasting ordinance (Exodus 12:24)? We eat Jesus flesh and drink His blood and have eternal life (John 6:54), putting on immortality (1 Corinthians 15). That is certainly "in your flesh" and also certainly an "everlasting covenant."

In addition to that, Christ Himself took on our flesh. His covenant is in our flesh --Christ took on our flesh-- and it has ramifications forever and ever.


Once in the blest baptismal waters
I put on Christ and made Him mine.
Now numbered with God's sons and daughters,
I share His peace and love divine.

His body and His blood I've taken
in His blest Supper, feast divine;
now I shall never be forsaken,
for I am His, and He is mine.
O God, for Jesus' sake I pray
Thy peace may bless my dying day. (TLH 598)



This is no esoteric idea. This is no "concept." This is no theologically-tinged philosophy. This is concrete. This is about a God who did not stay afar off, but came down from heaven to help us, to join Himself to us, that we might in our flesh be saved by His promise, forever.

"And They Were Not Ashamed"

Recent stories in chapel and Didache have been from the first chapters of Genesis. We talked about how Adam and his wife were naked and they were not ashamed. Pastor mentioned that shame always results when you are not being what you were made to be, not doing what you were made to do. When we are who God made us to be, when we do what God made us to do, there is no shame.

But later, after Adam and Eve sinned, they hid from the Lord. They were ashamed.




For a long time, I have pondered the conversation among the persons of the Trinity after the fall into sin -- "man has become like One of Us, knowing good and evil." Which "One" said this?

Earlier in chapter 3, the devil tells Eve about eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. "You will not surely die." Okay, that part is a flat-out lie. "You will be like God, knowing good and evil." Is that part a lie? Hmmm. There appears to be some truth to that claim, seeing as how God Himself said the same thing at the end of chapter 3.

But now I'm wondering if the problem is wrapped up in Adam and Eve trying to be what God had not made them to be, and doing what God had not given them to do. They were the creatures. They were not God. It was not given them to be like God, knowing good and evil. And when they took it for themselves, sin and shame made them know evil in a way that they'd've been better off without.

Funeral Tonight

The All Saints service was planned for our regular midweek service. Then Pastor Goltermann (a retired pastor in the congregation) went to be with Jesus on Saturday evening. So his funeral was combined with the All Saints service.

Joy!
Beauty!
Comfort!
Anticipation!


Gary was just saying that, if you want to know what a church teaches, what they believe, what the pastor's focus is, go to the funerals. One of my friends mentioned tonight that she never used to go to funerals. But here ... here she tries to come to as many as she can. Funerals are some of the best services there are! An hour and 40 minutes tonight of "Behold a Host" and Revelation 7 and "Lord, It Belongs Not to My Care" and "For All the Saints" and the Beatitudes and "Lo, He Comes With Clouds Descending" and a sermon that could have been better only if it had been 2-3 times longer.

Pastor Goltermann grew up in the congregation where Gary did his student teaching. One of his congregations (three decades later) helped support Gary through seminary. He was pastor in Buckley during the 40s. He assisted Ed Suelflow at Walther Memorial. I managed to hold myself to only two times of "It's a Small World After All" this evening. :-)


Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.

Beer-Batter Fish

Because I lost my mom's recipe and had to call her today to get it, I am posting this online as well as putting the card in my recipe box. Two places to hunt for missing recipes.


Combine:
1 cup flour
1/4 tsp salt

Combine:
2 egg yolks
1/2 can beer (about 2/3 cup)
2 Tbsp oil or melted butter

Stir these together, just till blended.
Let stand an hour or more.

Begin heating frying oil.
Then beat two egg whites.
Fold whites into batter.
Dip fish into batter and deep-fry at 375.

Mmmmmmm.

Vote Democrat

There is a conservative trend favoring Republicans and Tea Party candidates this election season. Those of you in Wisconsin who favor such politics may not want to vote a straight-party ticket, though.

The Democrat incumbent Secretary of State has been doing a relatively innocuous job for about 30 years. The Republican candidate has no political experience and has served in no elected position. This is not necessarily reason enough to vote against a person, even if he's next-in-line for governorship should both the governor and lieutenant governor go MIA. But this Republican candidate for Secretary of State works as a pastor of the "God Squad" in Milwaukee. He declared bankruptcy in 2003. He has been delinquent in paying bills which, he says, is nothing to be ashamed of. He desires to use the Secretary of State office to expand into social action such as crime, jobs, literacy, drugs, and abortion.

Now, for the rest of the races on Tuesday's ballot, go ahead and vote for the Republicans. Scott Walker for governor! Ron Johnson for senate! Schuller for treasurer! Yes!

(By the way, if you're looking for more information on the Attorney General's race, I think this article in the Isthmus is a good summary of the issues.)

Today's Laugh

Chris Cross, a tourist in Vienna, is going passed Vienna's Zentralfriedhof graveyard on October 31st. All of a sudden he hears some music. No one is around, so he starts searching for the source. Chris finally locates the origin and finds it is coming from a grave with a headstone that reads: Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770-1827. Then he realizes that the music is the Ninth Symphony and it is being played backward! Puzzled, he leaves the graveyard and persuades Tim Burr, a friend, to return with him.

By the time they arrive back at the grave, the music has changed. This time it is the Seventh Symphony, but like the previous piece, it is being played backward. Curious, the men agree to consult a music scholar. When they return with the expert, the Fifth Symphony is playing, again backward. The expert notices that the symphonies are being played in the reverse order in which they were composed, the 9th, then the 7th, then the 5th. By the next day the word has spread and a throng has gathered around the grave. They are all listening to the Second Symphony being played backward.

Just then the graveyard's caretaker ambles up to the group. Someone in the crowd asks him if he has an explanation for the music.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about," says the caretaker. "He's just decomposing!"

Clean Apartments

Yesterday Katie and Nathan signed a lease on an apartment ten minutes from here, a little closer to work, and closer to church too. Katie cleaned last night for a while. She worked on the kitchen this evening; I worked on the bathroom.

Katie cleans. Whenever she leaves an apartment, it is in better shape than when she took possession of it. It is frustrating to leave an immaculate apartment and then be docked on your security deposit because the apartment manager just assumes that he has to have a cleaning crew come in whenever there's a change in tenants. I have no idea what the cleaning crew did at their last apartment, but they obviously didn't even open the cupboards because Katie & Nathan were charged for destroying (or losing or stealing) an item that was left sitting in the cupboard.

Likewise, this new apartment was cleaned before Katie and Nathan took possession. And it wasn't bad. But there's the grunge on the refrigerator gasket. And caked-on soap drips on the underside of the bathtub soap holder. And it makes me shudder to think of the thick greasy goo on the ceiling fan in the kitchen. I don't think of myself as a good housekeeper. Adequate. Above average. But not consumed with perfection over our cleanliness level in the house. I suppose I have spots in the house that other people might be horrified at while I am blind to those problems. I suppose that the apartment's filthy spots might be something that only Katie and I care about. But still....

If I'm living with my own dirt, that's one thing. But moving into a place with somebody else's grunge, that's a different story.

Birthday Party

Wow! There are balloons that need to be hung for the celebration! There was a chocolaty spatula to lick a few minutes ago! There are streamers on the ceiling! This is a good day!

But I Really Wasn't Job-Hunting

Cashing a check at the bank this morning, it came up in casual conversation with the clerks that I was applying for a job at the library. They were thrilled to hear I was considering a part-time job. But I'm not supposed to work at the library according to the gals at the bank. I need to apply there. They neeeeed someone. They pushed an application on me. They didn't want me to leave; they wanted me to fill it in right then, wishing that the manager could hire me today.

What's going on????

I wonder how long I have to wait before I know whether I'll get an interview with the library. (Hours and pay at the bank and library are fairly similar. A little less on-your-feet time at the bank. The library doesn't have incessant background music. The bank has more windows.)

Maybe it's time to get a job?

Psalm 69:11-12

I became a byword to them.
Those who sit in the gate speak against me.
I am the song of drunkards.

If the psalms belong in the mouth of Christ [and by the way, they do] then it is interesting to see these verses in light of the cursing and swearing and foul language that permeate our society. Jesus' name IS used as the song of drunkards. It IS a byword.

Tank-tops and Shells

It is supremely unfair that the time of life when a woman's hormones force her into sleeveless shirts is exactly when her upper arms are getting floppy and her elbows are getting wrinkly.

Writing a Resume

Checking out of our local library recently, I noticed the poster that said they're hiring. Although I need income, I haven't been looking too hard for a job, seeing as how I already have a job teaching the kids. But I've kept my eyes open, just in case the perfect job pops up.

And this is it! The hours don't interfere with chapel or church or choir. The job is in a building filled with [get this...] BOOKS. [Be still my heart!] The pay is decent; the hours are enough to make a difference to our budget but not too much to prevent all my frugality measures of cooking and gardening. It's the kind of job that requires attention to detail, organizing books and labels, and other tasks that fit my personality well and that I'm good at. It's close enough to bike, or even to walk if absolutely necessary. And the 'customers' are my neighbors who have willingly come to learn something! How cool is that?!?

So this week I've been learning about resumés and cover letters. It's so hard to tout yourself; I think the traits the employer is looking for should be taken for granted. I mean, it's a sad commentary on society that an employer has to specifically state that employees should have a strong work ethic and be friendly to the customers. So I need to find a way to get across to potential employers that I'm the kind of employee that they will be thrilled they hired. How do I know which desirable characteristics are the ones to list, and which good characteristics must go unmentioned? If I'm brutally harsh in my self-evaluation and still recognize that this is a job I'll be superb at, how do I differentiate myself from the people who think they're marvelous at everything and say so in order that they might win the "pick me! pick me!" game.

Brown

I bought knee-socks to go with my skirts because I'm tired of spending money on hose and then having them run. Knee-socks are cheaper. One of the pairs of socks in the recently-purchased package was brown. So this morning, getting dressed for church, I pulled on the brown socks to go with my brown Birkenstocks.

One day. One short morning. I haven't worn brown for years. And in one morning I'm already tired of brown.

I think I got too much brown in the 70s. Enough brown to last a lifetime. Gimme blue, red, black, and white, please!

1830's Trails

Never could keep 'em straight: the Trail of Tears and the Santa Fe Trail. In all honesty, I'm not sure that I ever realized they were separate places.

They both were east-west trails in the US.
They weren't that far apart, and both trails overlapped some of the same longitudinal lines.
The stories of both trails involved Indians and soldiers.
They occurred at the same time.
And obviously, they both contain the word "trail."

We're reading a history book that covers world events during Abraham Lincoln's lifetime. (By the way, I've learned more about Napolean in the last month than I ever learned in school.) Also, Andrew and I are working through some lectures on American wars, and right now we're on the events that led up to the Mexican War. So, in the same week, we stumbled upon both trails.

Now, maybe you learned more history than I learned. Or maybe you can keep straight titles that have the same word in them. But if you too are a Bear of Very Little Brain, here are the differences:

The Santa Fe Trail was a little further north, and began & ended further west than the Trail of Tears.

But more importantly, people went back and forth on the Santa Fe Trail; it was a trade route. The Trail of Tears was a one-time trail, from east to west, from the Cherokee homeland into exile.

I think now I'll be able to keep them straight.

My Name ... according to Alia

So as to differentiate between the two grandmothers, it was discussed amongst some people who live here what my grandma-name should be. Lu (Nathan's mom) is Grandma. Some of the family (but especially Andrew) decided I should be Nanna. For days they tried to teach Alia to call me Nanna. She finally complied.

For about a week.

Wednesday she decided I was "Grandma." Funny to see her and her 18-yr-old uncle arguing over whether my name is Nanna or Grandma!


For those of you who haven't met me and my eldest, here's a picture. We do look just a little bit similar. So the computer's screen-saver is rolling through pictures; Alia is watching; a picture of Rachel pops up on the screen; and Alia says, "Grandma!"

:-)

Lack of Jokes

Some of my friends and family have greatly enjoyed the daily jokes I used to have on my blog. I hear about people missing the daily laugh when I don't get around to gathering jokes. But it's been hard recently to find jokes. Internet copyright laws have become stricter. Sifting through online jokes involves skipping over lots of really filthy (and unfunny) jokes. Then there are the mediocre jokes which aren't worth laughing at. And when I find something funny, these days it is inevitably copyrighted. I spent an hour this morning hunting jokes and found only one I could post, and it was only slightly funny. I found a three hilarious ones, but I'm not willing to risk the fines if somebody finds out I've posted them here. And I'm not willing to post the links because there may be one or two good jokes on a full page of other stuff (including icky ads). Gary suggested finding old joke books, old enough to have gone out of copyright. But those are probably old jokes that y'all have heard before. Besides it would take a lot more work. I understand that people want to be paid for what they do. But still, ... "pay me to pass on my joke and brighten somebody else's day"?

Today's Laugh

Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur's youth and ideals. So the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still had no answer, he would be put to death.

The question? What do women really want? Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query; but, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by year's end.

Arthur returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the wise men, and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer. Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer. But the price would be high; the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.

The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first. The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur's closest friend. Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage, and made obscene noises. He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.

Arthur refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden; but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur. He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur's life and the preservation of the Round Table. Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur's question thus: 'What a woman really wants,' she answered, 'is to be in charge of her own life.'

Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur's life would be spared. And so it was, the neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom, and Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding.

The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom. What a sight awaited him! There was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen before him. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened, and the beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, she would henceforth be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the beautiful maiden the other half.

Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day ... or night?

Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous intimate moments?

What would YOU do?

Noble Lancelot said that he would allow her to make the choice herself.

Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.

The moral of the story is:
"If you don't let a woman have her own way ... things are going to get ugly."

Madison

We watched a movie tonight that would not have drawn our interest were we not APT fans. It's supposed to be a story of hope.

I'm not sure I saw any hope.

I loved watching Jimmy and Brian and Sarah. I loved seeing the local stuff: the scenery, the beer labels, the houses, the restaurants.

There was a lot of rhetoric about politics and the war. As we watched, I wasn't sure whether the show was trying to promote those viewpoints or giving us cause to shake our heads and say "tsk tsk." There was also a lot of foul language. But these things would have been forgivable if the story had a great message in the end.

But it didn't.

The poor chap in the movie had been a war correspondent and came home jaded and hopeless. He couldn't get rid of the horrid memories. He no longer believed that we can Change The World and make a difference. I didn't expect a Christian message of hope. But I did expect some secular version of hope. And for the life of me, I don't know what it was. The reviews talk about how Michael (the main character) finds hope. Through the movie he drinks a lot. And then he spends Christmas with a friend, including babysitting the friend's daughter on the afternoon of the 24th. The friend is positive and upbeat and has hope that things are generally good and will work out. But that in itself doesn't appear to give hope to Michael; it just seems to show him that not everything everywhere is thoroughly despairing.

Gary said it was the most depressing thing he'd seen in a long time. Afterwards he hunted up a funny tv show to watch.



Right now, I am thinking about what Pastor says about the Christian life being full of joy -- even when we do not feel it. Right now, I am thinking about the joy of family, and satisfaction with a job well done, and comfort in not taking on responsibilities that are not yours. Right now, I'm noticing the lack of dialogue in this film (all the scenes that are so so quiet, filled with pensive waiting and thinking) and contrasting that quietness with the voice of God's Word that brings life. Paul said that if Christ be not raised from the dead, we are of all men the most pitiable. But when you see what passes for "hope" out there in the big wide world, maybe not. Even if Christianity were a hoax, it still would have a lot to offer. Do you remember what Puddleglum said to the Witch when she was trying to convince them that there was no Narnia, no world except the underground one that lay in her grasp?

Suppose ... suppose we have only dreamed and made up these things like sun, sky, stars, and moon, and Aslan himself. In that case, it seems to me that the made-up things are a good deal better than the real ones. And if this black pit of a kingdom is the best you can make, then it's a poor world. And we four can make a dream world to lick your real one hollow.

"I Be Back"

My granddaughter Alia has been learning to talk. You know how some kids start to speak earlier and make solid progress? Well, Alia is one of those kids who didn't talk and didn't talk -- and occasionally people would suggest that something was wrong with her. But when she started talking, it was a torrent.

One day, Nathan asked, "So what is this? Is she learning a new word every single day now?" Oh no! WAY more than one a day. Probably more than one per hour. And then, a couple of weeks later, 3- and 4-word sentences. And even pronouns and possessives used correctly. It is so much fun to watch and listen to kids as they acquire language!

At the playground the other day, waiting for Maggie to finish at choir practice, she would "leave" me with a cheery reassurance, "I be back" and wave farewell. Around the back of the slide, climbing up the different levels of the fort, informing me at each level, "I be back," and then she'd slide down. "Look! You're back!"

Not everything is perfect in Language-Learning Land, though. This morning, Alia was telling her daddy that she wanted beer for breakfast. Beer? The kid wants beer? For breakfast? He finally discovered the item was "pear." Ah! That makes sense!

Is It Arrogant?

One of my dear friends (who is now Eastern Orthodox) would tell me that we are to humble ourselves and listen to the Church Fathers. He would say that it's sassy and disrespectful to think that they may have made occasional errors or that we (18 centuries later) might see something in a better way than they.

Many years later, I'm still wondering about that.

In Psalm 119 (:97-104) the psalmist says he understands more than the ancients,he has more understanding than all his teachers, because he meditates on the Lord's testimonies. I'm wondering if/how that fits in with my friend's comment about submitting to the Church Fathers.

Adam & Eve's children knew that the Seed of the Woman would crush the head of the serpent. Adam walked with God and talked with Him. And yet, through the centuries, God revealed more and more. The Messiah would come from the tribe of Judah. And later, the Messiah would come from the line of David. And later, the Messiah would be born of a virgin. And many years later, the Holy Spirit --through the prophets-- reveals that the Christ would be born in Bethlehem. As the prophets meditated upon God's word, preached God's word, wrestled with God's word, the Holy Spirit showed them more details. Does this mean that Habakkuk and Jeremiah were lacking in respect for Adam and Noah?

You know in your own life how you take more care with situations when once you have encountered a problem. Me -- I don't like kids to slam doors. I "knew" that door-slamming was bad, but I became vehement about it after my baby's finger was nearly severed in a slammed door. I am more diligent about washing the undercarriage of my vehicles during salt season winter after we lost a reliable car to huge amounts of rust [at 220,000 miles]. It's not a bad thing to face problems and cope with them and try to prevent those problems from coming back to cause harm another day.

The Holy Spirit was poured out on Pentecost. The apostles knew Jesus' teaching; they were close to Him; they are the authority upon whose word the Church is founded. The church fathers knew the apostles' teaching; they were students who passed on the message they had heard. But do we have less now? Less reliability? Less insight? Less accuracy? I think, as the Church has encountered heresies and heterodoxy, as the Church has struggled to refine her language in response to misunderstandings, she has gained, not lost.

Delight in Loving

I know, I know ... they've told me a thousand times. Love is not a feeling. Love is an act. Love is a commitment. Love means doing whatever is necessary that the beloved might live.

And yet, being the sinners that we are, sometimes we love begrudgingly. We love because it's our duty to love. We're called to love our neighbor, and by gum, we'll grit our teeth and love, no matter how much we'd rather not.

And then there's the love that rejoices in being able to love. The love that gives delightedly. The love that is unaccountably tickled pink to sacrifice itself for the beloved.

It can sometimes be discouraging to be loved by someone who is dutifully loving you. But oh, how the heart dances with sheer joy when it is loved by one who is delighted to do the loving, whether it's your husband, your Savior, your mom, your friend, or even just your dog.

Enchilada Soup

After stewing a chicken this afternoon, I objected to making chicken-vegetable soup again. I'm not tired of eating it, but right now I'm tired of making it. After hunting up some decidedly different recipes and merging them and then tweaking a bit, I came up with a soup I loved. Even Alia (a soup-hater) thought it was good and snarfed it down. The balance of ingredients listed below is approximate, as I was wingin' it, tasting and adjusting the whole way. If you try it, you may have to adjust amounts of spices and salsa and peppers to suit your own taste.



Stew a 3-4# chicken in 3 quarts water.
Remove chicken from broth and let cool until it can be handled.

Mince 2-3 hot peppers.
Chop a sweet bell pepper and a large onion.
Saute veggies in a small amount of oil.

While whisking chicken broth, slowly sift into the broth
1 ½ cups cornmeal,
stirring so that there are no lumps.
Continue to stir frequently while soup heats,
so that the creamy texture doesn't burn onto the bottom of the pot.

When broth begins to thicken slightly, add
1# frozen corn
1#-can of black beans, drained
1 cup salsa
the sauteed onions and peppers.

Season with approximately
1 tsp Better Than Bouillon
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp chili powder
1 tsp garlic powder
dash cayenne
Continue to stir frequently over medium heat until corn is hot.

Remove meat from chicken bones. Chop.
Add 1/2 the chicken and
1 ½ cups shredded cheddar or American cheese.

Stir gently until cheese melts.
Top with Fritos, salsa, and/or chopped cilantro.
Makes about 6 quarts of soup.

Legal Holidays

I have a hang-up. I think Memorial Day is on May 30 regardless of when the government decides to skip the mail delivery on some late-May Monday. I think Lincoln's birthday is February 12 and Washington's is February 22, regardless of this new-fangled "Presidents' Day" when the banks and schools are closed. So I smiled broadly at the interchange at school on Monday morning.

Every day after chapel, before the students break off into their classes, the headmistress covers several all-school items. First is the date. "Today is Monday, October the ..... ???" And one of the little kids tries to answer. Yesterday the response was "the 11th!" And the headmistress says, "No, but you're close" whereupon several quizzical looks were tossed her way by the adults. Pastor checks the date on his watch and says, "Yes, it is too the 11th."

Oops.

Well, she goes on to talk about Columbus Day and the discovery of the Americas. Then it was Pastor's turn to be momentarily confused: "But it's not Columbus Day. Columbus Day is the 12th!"

Ah ha! Another person who thinks that holidays belong on their actual dates! So all these middle-aged folks are confused by the government's declaration of legal holidays, ranting about Armistice Day being on November 11, and Memorial Day being on May 30, and that it's not really Columbus Day on the 11th whether or not the banks are closed. We know the truth about the dates.

And these kids ... Their whole life's experience has been Monday holidays, with no understanding that these days weren't plucked out of nowhere but were anniversaries of real events that really happened to real people in history.

Leprosy

Leviticus 13 contains instructions for determining whether a skin sore was leprous, whether a person was clean or unclean, waiting periods, and other practices associated with leprosy.

In the middle of the passage is the curious statement that a person whose skin is all white, a person who is entirely covered with the leprosy in every spot, shall be declared clean. Pastor Wiest told us that this verse ultimately referred to Christ, who was thoroughly and totally and completely infected with the leprosy of our sin, but who was clean.

Go, Show Yourselves to the Priests

This Sunday's story was the Ten Lepers (Luke 17). Jesus told them to go show themselves to the priests. So, where were the priests?

Yup, they were in Jerusalem.

Where was Jesus headed? How about that! He was headed to Jerusalem too. Why? This wasn't just one of His many trips there; this was the last time to go up to Jerusalem.

So these nine dudes who did not cling to Him and thank Him for His healing, they are off on a trip to where there are soon to be universe-shaking events. Will the men still be there on Palm Sunday and through the holiest days of all history? Maybe not. But it's likely, as long as they were in Jerusalem anyhow, that they would stay for the feast of Passover after having been cut off from the worshiping community.

The very events that won the forgiveness of sins would be preached & displayed in Jerusalem soon enough. Although these lepers did not return to Jesus in faith, Jesus nevertheless graciously sent the men to a place where they might hear the Gospel again.

Weekend Projects Go Bust

The air is warm; the windows are open. This will not last long. It's time to cram in a few projects that must be done according to weather. For example, use the smelly polyurethane now or forever hold your peace -- or till next spring at least.

We had about 3 cups of forest-green paint leftover from the old tree house. The forest-green picnic table was in bad shape. Time to use up the leftover paint so as to dispose of the container and spiff up the worn spots of wood. When we woke up this morning, the picnic table looked wet, really wet! Turned out I put water-base on top of oil-base paint. Gary came to the rescue. He hosed down the picnic table and benches, washing the unstuck paint onto the deck, and then he sprayed down the deck so it didn't turn green. And all this before he headed out to preach this morning. Wow -- that's patience for a wife who screwed up her first weekend project.

The kitchen table has been SO sticky. Don't know why. But when it's not just paper that sticks to the table but even potholders that need to be peeled off, it's time to do something. Friday afternoon I stripped the table top. One polyurethane coat after another went on smoothly, leaving me an increasingly smooth and beautiful table top. Anticipating a final coat, I just went to check for dryness. There are bubbles. Not little pinprick air bubbles that make the smooth surface feel a bit sandy -- these are airbubbles 1/4" or 1/2" in diameter. WHAT HAPPENED??? Screw-up #2.

As long as I was wielding a paintbrush full of polyurethane, I decided to coat the mantel. The wood there is so rough that it cannot be dusted: the wood shreds fibers off the dustcloth. Six coats of polyurethane later, it's not smooth, but it is definitely smooth enough to dust. After my experience with the kitchen table, I'm thinkin' better to leave well enough alone on the mantel.

The last summer project to tackle is freezing or canning the hot peppers. But I can wait until a rainy or cold day for that. No sense in wasting these final gorgeous days of sunshine!

Gramp and Nanna

Today's Laugh

A pun stolen from Eunice --

A friend of mine recently started a new business. He makes land mines that look like prayer mats. Prophets are going through the roof.

Wisconsin Homeschoolers

It's time to file your PI-1206. Did you do it yet? There's only a week left. Personally, I liked having that piece of paper lying on my desk, in the way, reminding me that it needed to be mailed during the first half of October. It's harder for me to remember to comply with the law when there's no physical reminder.

If you haven't submitted your online form, go to WPA's website for the instructions and the links to the DPI.

The Lord Relents

In Exodus 32, the Israelites ask Aaron to make gods for them. He made the golden calf. The Lord was angry; He threatened to destroy His people.

Verse 11: "Then Moses pleaded with the Lord his God ..."
Verse 14: "So the Lord relented from the harm He said He would to do His people."

I don't know about you, but I usually hear this passage as a prooftext on fervent prayer and how we can make God change His mind.

But was it Moses' praying that caused God to "change His mind"? Moses appealed to God's own word of promise. Moses spoke back to God the same words God had spoken to them: the promise of a Savior. The descendant of Abraham would be a blessing to all nations (Genesis 12); He would be the sacrifice that the Lord Himself would provide (Genesis 22). God's wrath did not wipe out the Israelites. It wasn't because they were good; it wasn't because Moses prayed hard enough; it was because His fierce wrath was poured out on His Son who took their rebellion and made it His own.

It is the atonement of the Son of the God --and not the act of praying-- that causes God to save us instead of destroy us.

The Joy of a Job Well-Done (or at least Well-Attempted)

Although there is a need for relaxation (especially for those who tend to be perfectionist workaholics), too much rest and pampering oneself is quite unsatisfying and leaves a person restless. Pastor recently mentioned the joy that results from doing what you're supposed to do, tackling the duties God gave you. It's not the joy of the forgiveness of sins, but it's a very real left-hand-kingdom joy. And it's a joy that permeates even jobs that are, in themselves, distasteful.

Recent Snapshots

Making pancakes:

The tall ones taunting the short ones with a high-five that went over their heads, and the short ones high-fiving anyhow:

We burned LOTS of brush on Saturday:

Psalm 18:49

"I will give thanks to You, O Lord, among the Gentiles."

Usually when a sentence like that shows up in the Scriptures, it is in the context of God's delivering His people from their enemies. In other words, even though the bad guys (aka, Gentiles) are surrounding me and persecuting me, the Lord will rescue me from them, and I will give thanks.

But you know what? Many of the Gentiles have been turned to the Lord. When David or Jesus prayed that they would "give thanks among the Gentiles" it might also mean that the enemies (the Gentiles) have been joined to the people of God, and that the Gentiles are giving thanks too.

Philip's News

A proud mom just has to post about his annual review at work.

Andrew's Birthday

Strawberry shortcake:

and his birthday gift was a spare can of whipped cream, which he enjoyed on a variety of food items: bananas, sandwiches, mugs of cocoa...
Mmmmm!

Steve Wiest

Come, O Christ, and loose the chains that bind us.
Lead us forth and cast this world behind us.
With Thee, the Anointed,
finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.

Seeing the Kids

Rachel and Matt were up to see friends for gaming this weekend. Because they were awake until near-dawn, they napped early this morning and then showed up in church for late service. Woo hoooo!! I'm glad they've got a church available to them in Chicago, but it is SO so good to worship with them occasionally. Philip couldn't come over to hang out for Sunday afternoon today, but seeing him at church is almost as good as having a long visit. There's just something precious about being at the same Divine Service and then maybe having 5-20 minutes afterward for chatting too. Granted, I like seeing them at other times when possible, but being with them at church is usually enough to satisfy my yearning to see my kids.

Matt & Rachel showed off their new car to us and let us sniff that wonderful new-car smell. It's a really small car but spacious inside (even in the backseat) and with plenty of trunk space. They bought a simple model: it doesn't even have a radio. Rachel said they'll take the radio out of the old car; that radio started in my Camry, went to Rachel's Corolla, then bopped into Matt's car, and now is headed for their new car. Rachel's probably getting pretty good at installing car stereos!

Catechism Memory Work

Our pastor appoints a portion of the catechism each week for the congregation to pray daily along with the Bible verse, the psalm, the collects, and the hymn. Quite a few pastors extol the benefits of including the catechism as part of your prayers rather than as something to memorize as head knowledge. And so each week we have a portion of the catechism to meditate on.

But being a bear of very little brain and ever-decreasing agility-of-memory, I have found it beneficial also to recite all six chief parts each week. Seeing as how there are seven days of the week, and on one of them we go to church in the morning, that leaves one chief part per non-Sunday day. Ideal, eh? So on Monday we say the Ten Commandments (and meanings), and Tuesday is the Creed, and so forth.

We did not start this routine until several of the kids had already learned the catechism by heart. I wanted them to retain what they'd learned. I didn't want them to wait a whole year until they came back to thus-and-such part of the catechism. The younger ones (who had not yet memorized the catechism) would either listen to the recitation or they'd read along out of the book. It doesn't take long -- we spend 3-6 minutes per day, with Thursday usually being the quickest recitation and Wednesday the longest. I realize that this brief daily run-through is not the same as praying the catechism, not the same as meditating upon it, not the same as unpacking its riches. But by saying it at the breakfast table (in the old days when we used to eat breakfast together) or on the drive to chapel/school, it does keep the words fresh in our minds.

And I think that habit is worth five minutes a day.

The Cat's Couch

When the loveseats became uncomfortable and were replaced, I thought the old furniture would go to the dump. But Gary thought it would be safer to give the new couch a couple of weeks, in case we hated it and wanted to go back to the old ones. Fair enough. Stick it in the garage; plan to set it out on garbage day soon.

Then Athena-kitty found it.

It is very very very nice to lie on a couch, outdoors in the fresh air, away from the noises of the house, in the shade, but still have the cushy-spot of upholstered furniture. After this lovely kitty-development, we added a toddler to the household -- all the more reason for a crotchedly, aging cat to desire a comfy get-away.

But garages are intended for cars, not for a kitty's hidey-hole. So Gary put his noggin to work, dreaming up a short loft built from scrap lumber left over from the deck repairs. He's been envisioning this loft/table for a month or so, and with the possibility of frost tonight, it was time to pull out the tools and flesh out the picture he'd constructed in his mind.



Not only did Gary create extra space in the garage for storage, but we also keep Athena's favorite spot so that she will continue to be pleased to bless us with her hunting skills.

Computer Use

1. The computer has been running like molasses for the last several weeks. I have rebooted frequently. We defragmented the computer. The virus scan and spyware scans come up clear. The specs tell me there's still oodles of free space. So why is this machine so slow?? Yesterday the internet connection disappeared altogether, and we had to reboot the modem. Wow -- suddenly it's like I have an all-new speedy computer!

2. Because most of the kids' friends are either in conventional school or are homeschooled on an 8-3:00 M-F schedule, we have been facing lots of temptations and interruptions to the schoolwork that fits nicely into the evenings and weekends and school vacations. This week I figured we should give up trying to hold to the schedule that we used for a couple of decades, and just submit to "do school" on the same schedule that The Rest Of The World does school. First constraint we put on ourselves was no television or computer playing (Facebook, chats, you-tubes, blogs, video games, etc) from 7:30 until 3:00. We have managed to survive three days thus far and [hold onto your hats!] the world has not collapsed. I hope, as we continue this, that the self-imposed limitations become easier to live with.

Chores

For the longest time, I didn't know the difference between chores and other jobs. It took a lot of reading history and historical fiction before I began to realize that there are different kinds of work. I thought any task was a "chore." But chores are the little, daily jobs that need to be done around a house or a farm. Feeding the cat is a chore; washing the windows is not. Washing the dishes is a chore; painting the fence is not. In our family, cleaning the bathroom is a chore; for most Americans it's a big job that is tackled once a week at best, or maybe once or twice a month.

I've begun to realize that we don't understand the importance of chores. We procrastinate. Even if we can intellectually explain "A stitch in time saves nine," too many people don't really know what it means. Cooking seems to me the quintessential chore, but remember the Once-a-Month Cooking craze? Even cooking was turned into a big job done infrequently.

Personally, I prefer to go to extremes (hence the name of my blog) and focus on one big project and then dive into a different big project. But there's something about daily-ness that is tremendously important. There is work to be accomplished each day, in little bits, to continually tend to the needs of the body, to persevere in "exercising dominion" over the spot God has given us, to serve the neighbor in the little daily needs he has. The dailiness of these chores also teaches us self-control. Avoiding that dailiness teaches us lessons about life that are not good.

Isaac Newton

So Andrew is working his way through his physics textbook. He gets to the chapter on Newton's Laws. It mentions that, "although not an orthodox Christian ... Newton held to many standard Christian beliefs." In the first chapter of the General Science book in the same series, as we survey the history of science, a whole page is given to Newton who was "a devout Christian."

See that ellipsis in the quote above? That's where the textbook explained briefly what "unorthodox" views Newton held. He rejected the doctrine of the Trinity as well as the deity of Christ. [eyes popping out of head ...] OH? Really? That's all?

From end of the Creed: "This is the catholic faith; which except a man believe faithfully and firmly, he cannot be saved."

Surely there must be an error. Surely our Christian-worldview textbook would not call this man a devout Christian if that's really what he believed. So we did a little web-surfing. Sure enough, he disagreed with Athanasius and would have sided with the Arians ... except even the Arians were a little too orthodox for Newton. No Trinity? A Jesus who wasn't God? And he didn't believe in the immortality of the soul? And no devil? I don't see how we call him a Christian at all.

I still think Apologia is a really good science textbook. It's engaging. It's clear. It provides a solid background in biology, chemistry, physics, etc. But don't expect the book to be correctamundo when it comes to the Faith.

My New Vegetable Peeler

... is right-handed. Waaaaaah!

I needed a new peeler, one strong enough to handle winter squash and rutabagas. This week I found one with a ceramic blade, guaranteed to stay sharp. But it never ever crossed my mind to check that a lefty could use it.

Well, when I pulled the peeler out for its maiden voyage today, I discovered that either
a) I'm going to be working on my ambidextrosity,
or
b) the kids are going to do a lot more veggie peeling.

Election Day

Earlier this month I worked the polls for the first time in my life. I don't know how they do it in other states, but here the pollworkers are there all day long, 6am till 9pm or later. I was nervous about not knowing enough. I was nervous about spending the whole day with the other pollworkers that I didn't know. But I loved it! The other four women working that day were enjoyable to be with. We traded off jobs during the day so that sometimes I registered new voters and sometimes I handed out ballots and sometimes I checked-in voters. It was fun to see my neighbors come in and say a cheerful howdy to the folks from church who vote in our precinct.

Seeing what happens at the polls does make you wonder about the future of our country, though. People came in and wanted to vote for a particular candidate that wasn't on the ballot. "Why not? Why can't I vote for him?" The fact that he was running for an office that didn't represent their address seems pertinent to me....

Also, it was obvious that a lot of people don't understand what a primary is. In Wisconsin, there is ONE ballot on primary day. You don't tell anybody what party you're aligned with, so you don't request the Democrat ballot versus the Republican ballot versus the Libertarian ballot. Neither do we caucus. Here you are not obliged to choose your party until you're in the voting booth, and then you vote for candidates only in that party and submit your ballot. The voting machine will spit your ballot back at you if you voted for people in different parties. A stunning amount of people were ticked about that. They said they should be able to vote for whomever they wished, regardless of party. We explained that, in November, they could. But this is a primary; it's not voting for offices; a primary is the party's decision as to which candidates will represent the party. Uh... that wasn't understood. At all. Seems to me that all those who heartily disagree should be pressing the legislature for preferential voting.

There was a massive turnout for a primary -- about 43% of the registered voters. The age of voters, though, makes a person wonder who's going to be voting in 20-30 years. A disproportional amount of voters were past retirement age. There were a few young people but not many. This reminds me: now that Andrew's had his birthday, he needs to go to town hall and register to vote.

We don't know what was being said on talk radio on election day, but apparently there was a lot of discussion about same-day voter registration. Although you are not required to show proof of identity or residence when you go to vote [... waiting while all you folks from other states gasp loudly and say "Surely NOT!!!!" ...] many voters came in and insisted on pulling out their drivers license to show their identity. Several men throughout the day proffered their ID cards and said, "Just getting in practice for when we have to start doing this next spring" (anticipating a vast change in the power-balance, so that the election laws can be changed to decrease voter fraud).

APT

This year we saw "All's Well That Ends Well" and "As You Like It."

Our friend Janelle and Maggie, at our picnic lunch during intermission in the "hall" of the "lobby."


"All's Well" was okay. But it was definitely the most lackluster play I've ever seen at APT. I certainly had no desire to go back and see it again the Very Next Day (!) which is my usual reaction to any play I see at Spring Green. When I heard some other patrons discussing the show, someone pointed out that one of the main characters (who is in her first year at APT) didn't seem to have a command of the Shakespearean language; I think he pinned down the problem. It was like she was acting -- good acting, to be sure. I guess I'm just used to the language flowing so well that there is usually no sense that the actors are acting; it's all too real and believable (even with some of Shakespeare's unbelievable set-ups).

I'm glad we saw "All's Well" the first week and followed with "As You Like It" the second week. It was hilarious! My favoritest actor in the whole wide world played Touchstone (the clown). And I have decided that nobody can portray giddy teenagers-in-love as well as APT; it's great! Several kids from church are headed out on a school fieldtrip today to see "As You Like It"; Maggie and I are jealous and would love to tag along. I hope they enjoy as beautiful a day in the woods as we did!

Cilantro

It's finally growing! I planted seed, but the first few plantings never germinated. When one planting finally did come up, it bolted right away. Assuming I had been doing something seriously wrong, I played it safe and purchased a plant. A week after I put it in the ground, it too bolted. A friend told me it was just too hot for cilantro to grow. (That would explain why my cilantro thrived last year in such a cool summer.)

The plants went to seed, sat in the garden, and toppled over. Apparently all my cilantro plants reseeded themselves, because now that fall has come, I have lots of baby cilantro plants. They're not big enough to even think of harvesting leaves yet, but I may grab several nice bunches before winter takes over. Mmmm.

This weekend I gathered seeds off some of the older plants. I think I have plenty of fresh seed for next spring's deliciousness.

Today's Laugh

An effective way to get something done is to say that it's impossible. Surely someone will try to prove you wrong.

Alia Pictures

Stolen from Katie's photo album:

The asparagus forest--

Peek-a-boo from the cupboards--

Playing with Daddy--

Making cornbread for supper--

Visiting the lady in the fountain--

A Holy Sabbath

The Third Commandment enjoins us to "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy."

I don't know about you, but I'd always understood the emphasis in that sentence to be the remembering: DO something to honor the Sabbath (be it a day of the week or the hearing/treasuring of God's Word).



My pastor frequently quotes the line from the Large Catechism: "The Word of God is the only holy thing we have." As we recently prayed the Third Commandment, he emphasized not "remember" but "holy." It is God's Word of grace that makes us holy, that makes our homes and churches holy, that makes our work holy, the makes our prayers holy, that makes even our day-of-rest holy. The important thing is not what we do to sanctify the sabbath day, but what God does to us and for us when He pours out His Word on us.

Alia Pictures

From July --





and August --

Today's Laugh

This is their selling point?


HT: Jamie

Credit Cards and Our Needs

Probably the most basic rule of sound financial management is not to spend more than you have. A corollary of this would be not to put charges on the credit card unless you've got the cash in hand to pay off the bill in full at the end of the month. Most people don't live like that, though -- if they did, the credit-card companies would crash-and-burn.

So what happens when people face tough times of unemployment? We hear on the news that lots of people are living on their credit cards. I suppose if you have to, you have to.

But here's my question. How would we spend our money during those tough times if we had to pony up the cash instead of paying with plastic? What happens when "limited cash" actually means that, when you run out, you're out?

Would we live with clothes more ragged and stained if the choice was food versus clothing? Do we remember the stories of people during the Depression who would put cardboard in their shoes to cover the holes in the sole? Would we forego a treat (be it a Pepsi or a new video game or an annual trip to Disneyland) that we indulge in because we can with the credit card? Would we walk to church instead of drive there; are we willing to stay home instead of driving to visit a friend? How would we treat illness or injury if there were no money for the doctor? What about giving presents at occasions where it's socially expected? Would we give up the phone service or the internet if we had to choose between that and food? What about the lights and where we set the thermostat? When do frugality-measures become excessive? Are we unwilling to face even minor deprivation? Will people look down on us for not living up to the standards that everyone else abides by?

If you live on a cash-basis, a shortage of income leaves people faced with decisions that may not be easy, and self-denial that may hurt. But credit cards make it easy to avoid those hard decisions: we can always pay for it later. But once you allow yourself to borrow, you have to wonder: am I really being as careful with the expenditures as I ought?

Back When I Was Young

... grapes and watermelons had seeds.


(It sure ain't easy to find seeded watermelons anymore. And seeded grapes show up at the store just about as [in-]frequently.)

Astounding Math Skills

Why does no one care that I know that the sine of 60 degrees is half the square root of 3? You'd think it was irrelevant knowledge or somethin'. And when my kid in the living rooms asks me (near the computer) to look up a number on the trig calculator and holler out a sine for him, he is not satisfied with half the square root of 2, or half the square root of 3 -- he wants a decimal. What's up with that?

Pout. You'd think people would appreciate my math skills....

Back When I Was Young

... people introduced themselves when they phoned. When I hear "Hello" on the other end of the phone, I still say, "Hello, this is Susan..." So often the response is "Yes, I know." Sometimes people will even pick up their phone and tell me "Hello, Susan" before I've said a word. It freaks me out.

The flip side is that people will call and start to talk, without realizing that not everyone has caller-ID. Some voices I know; some I do not. But even when it's a person whose voice I normally recognize, a cell-phone call from outdoors or in a moving vehicle may mask the sound of the person's voice.

There's something to be said for land-lines that cannot go to the garden with you, cannot go to the store with you, and let you have a little peace away from the cell phone! But I don't think the rest of the world agrees with me.