Results for the Great Turkey Roasting Experiment of 2008

I'm very pleased to report that the twenty three pound gobbler that I recently prepared turned out very nicely. I doubt, however, that I will again purchase such a large bird. I felt quite unlady-like squatting and straddling a corner of the open door to hoist that thing in and out of the oven when it came time to baste it. (No, there are no pictures.) Thanks to all of you who gave advice and encouragement.

Below, you see our yearly family picture taken at Thanksgiving by Jeff's dad. Below that, you see last year's photo. Aren't the changes in the kids amazing?

2008

2007



By the way, this is the last day of our email service with our old internet server, so I might not be able to alter this blog after midnight tonight...only time will tell. (See my last post.)

Is This Goodbye???

Hmmm...

Yesterday, we had fiber optics installed and in the process changed internet providers and our email address. Just as I feared, the delicate balance of our online existence was rocked and I lost access to adding to and altering this blog. It appeared as if I would have to kiss it goodbye and start anew elsewhere.

I went as far as to create a new blog over at www.aswewendourway.blogspot.com, so if I continue to have troubles with this one (www.amongthemany.blogspot.com) then that is where I'll be.

Last night, something compelled me to try one more time to sign in at this blog and it actually worked (even though I used the same user name and password as I had the all other times).

So...if after a while it appears that this blog has cyber spiderwebs and dust all over it, then try over at the aforementioned new blog address.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Internetless

Fiber optics are coming to our neighborhood, so I made an appointment to have the box installed. We are also changing internet providers. I planned it that we would have an overlap of coverage of about 5 days so that we wouldn't be without the Net for even a day.

Well, apparently someone at DSL Extreme took it personally that we were canceling with them because they dumped us ten days early! I called yesterday and the guy couldn't give me an explanation as to why that happened (not even a lame one).

So here I sit at the library on a hard wooden chair announcing to you all that if you need to get a hold of us over the next week, it would be best to call us. Also, our old email address is likely to be defunct, so I'll send out the new one when I know what it is.

It's Been an Odd Day

It didn't start out strangely.

The weirdness didn't hit until about 1:00 pm. I was at the grocery store when I came within three feet of...

...the hairiest man I've ever seen.

He was right in front of me in the check out line. (He looked quite normal from the neck up.)

He was shirtless, apparently unaware of the many social blunders that his partial nudity was tempting me to commit:
I wanted to giggle. I wanted to stare. I wanted to take a DNA sample.

Seriously...there was no differentiation between the hair on his back and the hair on his front. It all just flowed together like a strange pelt of poor quality.

The most astonishing thing of all was that there were little bits of dried grass stuck in his back fur like Bruiser has after rolling around on the lawn. No joke!

Delaney was with me. I'm glad since she can therefore lend credence to my tale. It's best to have a partner in moments of incredulity.

When we got into the car, she made me laugh out loud by asking, "I wonder what his armpits look like!"

Okay, so swallow the little bit of dinner you just hurled up and read about the rest of my day...

Last week, some friends blessed us with a couch and chair that they were getting rid of. Due to limited space, we needed to get rid of the futon (which someone else blessed us with years and years ago), so I called the Greensheet and placed an ad in the "Free" section.

Yesterday, we got four phone calls. The second caller drove an hour to get here, strapped the full sized futon onto the roof of his sedan and drove off. (I wondered all night if he made it home.)

Well, apparently, most people got the Greensheet today because as of 8:44 pm we have received 45 phone calls! No, not 4 or 5, but forty-five! Our phone has never rung like this.

Once told that the futon was gone, one lady asked me, "Do you know anybody who is selling a couch?" I assured her that I did not. (Jeff told me later that I should have said, "Yeah...Ikea.")

Another guy called to ask what a futon was. He took the time to tell me, "I looked it up in the dictionary and I couldn't find it." Boy, I bet he's a fun date.

By dinnertime, I had grown weary of interacting with all of these strangers on a human level, so if I didn't recognize the number on my caller ID, I'd try my best to sound like an automated message when answering and say things like, "Hello, if you are calling in regards to the free futon, we are sorry, but it is no longer available. Thank you. Goodbye."

It is now 9:00 and the phone hasn't rung for about 20 minutes. Perhaps the onslaught is at an end.

I did it!!! (We'll see if I regret it.)

I bought a turkey today with plans to actually cook the thing.

Rolls, I can do...

Pies, I can do (if I buy the pre-made crusts)...

Neither mashed potatoes nor stuffing strike fear in my heart...

...but there's something about a solid, mammoth sized, roundish-so-it-can-easily-slip-through-your-arms-and-break-all-the-bones-in-both-of-your-feet-at-once, $23.00 bird (are we sure it's actually a bird and not a medium sized mammal?) that makes tofu seem like a tasty alternative for Thanksgiving's main dish (at lease if I'm cooking).

Today at the grocery store, I was absent-mindedly strolling along when I was blind-sided by an offer I couldn't refuse: "Buy $25.00 worth of groceries and get a turkey for 60% off!"

Hmmm...no wonder a crowd was gathering at the floor to ceiling fridge. When it was finally my turn to open the huge glass door, I wrestled an unyielding, plastic covered carcass into my shopping cart, onto the check stand's conveyor belt, back into my cart, onto the floor of my little sedan (I think it left a dent) and finally into the yawning abyss of our big freezer in the garage, remembering the whole time to lift with my legs, not my back.

There lies the cryogenic beast, awaiting it's journey to the fridge (where it will probably crack through a couple of shelves, oh, and where is all the other food supposed to go for those three days of thawing?) and then into the oven where it may possibly dry out and resemble astronaut food due to my lack of massive-poultry-cooking skills.

No matter what happens, I know there's one member of the family who will be pleased with the end result of The Great Turkey Roasting Experiment of 2008:


Can you sense his excitement?

Hey Y'all!

I just returned from one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life. Although I've been preparing for it for a couple of months now, I didn't mention it here because it was a surprise for a few key people--people who actually read this blog. :)

Some women from my church fellowship and I hopped on a plane and put on a women's retreat for a group of our beloved friends in Kentucky. Although they knew a retreat was going to take place, they didn't know who would be a part of it, so I had to stay silent.

It was so wonderful. I had the honor of leading about 25 women (including a handful of fabulous little girls) in worship. It was beautiful to see all of these women working together, using their gifts and abilities to serve each other and God. Our skills complemented each others' so that everything was accomplished effectively and honorably.

Imagine being with a large group of women for five days and not hearing even the tiniest bit of gossip. That's how wonderful these women are!

God was glorified in the love and concern that everyone showed for each other. His Spirit taught us through the two teachers, Katrina and Joan, helping us to focus on what is truly important in life and to maintain a proper perspective.

Thanks Micky and Brian for hosting me; thank you Charlene for organizing things at your end and carting us around town; thank you Jen and Donna for attending the retreat and hanging out with us; thank you Krista, Sarah and Regina for attending the retreat even though you knew you'd be surrounded by a bunch of women you didn't even know.

On Sunday, we were able to attend a church service at Emmaus Christian Fellowship. I loved seeing that God is working there, blessing the efforts of the people who planted ECF just a year or so ago.

It really was a beautiful time for which I am very thankful.

God is good.

Whether You're Pleased With The Outcome Or Not...

...you have to appreciate the fact that American society has come a long way. Who would have thought even 30 years ago that the American people would elect an African American as president? Our racial bias is at an all-time low and that, my friends, is cool.

Arrrgh...(followed by discontented, indistinguishable muttering)

Because I am tired of wearing the clunky tennis shoes and the starting-to-fall-apart flip flops that I own, I decided to go shoe shopping.

If any of you are squealing delightedly, then you must not understand. You see...I wear a size 9 wide.

You would think that a person of my somewhat miniature stature would be blessed with dainty little feet, but that is not the case.

With fierce resolve, I parked my car in front of a very large warehouse-type shoe store, thinking, "Surely I'll be able to find something in there." (The place was five times the size of my entire house.)

Inside I trod with something close to a spring in my step.

It was wall to wall shoes with cute samples on display. (I've noticed that the display shoes are usually about a size 6. Unfortunately, even the most delightful looking size sixes look considerably less charming once they are blown up into a size nine.)

Under the samples were boxes and boxes of the available shoes. (I don't need to explain this; you've all been inside a shoe store.)

With hope, I began to scan all the boxes looking for that vital "W" next to the size. I soon realized that very few shoe companies even offer "wide" shoes because there were virtually no "W"s anywhere. I wondered why that would be the case as my frustration grew.

Suddenly, it dawned on me...they don't want me to wear their shoes! They don't want their shoes to be associated with a wide-footed gal such as myself! (You know how "Limited" and "Hurley" clothes only go up to about a size 11 or 13 so that only the trimmer sectors of the high school girls will be wearing them? Well, it's just like that, but with feet. I really think I'm on to something with this...)

Finally, after looking on nearly all the aisles for illusive "W"s, I spotted the closest thing I could find which was a "M/W" which I interpreted as being a "wide" that doesn't really want to admit that it's a "wide" so it implies that it's practically a "medium".

I grabbed a couple of "M/W" marked boxes and a pair of peds and settled onto the little chair provided, preparing myself for disappointment...which came rather quickly.

After returning the shoes to their boxes and stuffing the used peds into my purse (I'm assuming that they didn't want them back), I left with my flops on my feet, trying to focus on the fact that I had just saved upwards of $60.

That night, I related my sorrowful tale to my loving family. Jeff offered to simply make me some shoes by outlining my feet on some tractor tire tread. Thanks, Babe.

He then did something that actually was rather helpful. He went on line and googled "Wide Footed Women's Shoes" and bookmarked one site in particular so that I could peruse their selection at my leisure.

I thought that was rather sweet of him until I realized that I am now a woman who has a "Wide Shoe" site bookmarked on her computer!

TRY HARDER!!!

That's the message I've been sent.

The mirror started to convey it to me a few years ago with a friendly little wink and a nod. Gradually it grew less coaxing and more insistent. Well, these past few months, my ears have been ringing with it every time I walk away from anything with a reflective surface.

So, I have heeded the call. Now, on an almost daily basis, I am...

wearing makeup.

Up until this point, I've been a mascara and lip gloss kind of a gal. I don't like wearing more than that for two specific reasons:

1. The stuff is messy--I prefer to rub my itchy eyeballs without fear of smudges. Also, I like to drink from glasses without leaving proof of my lips' lack of natural beauty all over the rim.

2. The disappointment factor--You see, when I come to bed at night and my husband beholds my newly cleansed face, I don't want him to wonder, "Where's that more attractive woman I've been looking at all day?" (However, I've realized that I'd rather he was a little disappointed at night than all day long!)

Alas, my sense of vanity has overridden both of the above.

I invested in some eyeshadows and have been dutifully applying them each morning. I bought a couple of lipsticks but am not very happy with them. (They always appear brighter on my face than they do in the tube.)

Do I dare admit that I purchased a set of fake eye-lashes? I know that some of you use those and you look quite nice with them on, but I couldn't get them to blend in naturally with the rest of my face. I looked like a wannabe-floozy. That's right, I said "wannabe-floozy" as in I looked so ridiculous that I couldn't even achieve floozy status.

So, there you have it...my tongue-in-cheek confession of what I'm doing about feeling 25 but looking 34.

I'm just beginning to get comfortable with this...

Adriana and Mandy!!!

Our friends, Adriana and Mandy are at school in Spain right now. They are missing certain things about American life, so we grabbed the little photo cutout that Mandy's mom gave us and took them on an adventure.

After church, we went to lunch. Tobias tried to share his fish taco with the girls. They declined, smiling broadly.



The girls were frightened by the sight of the massive burrito I purchased at Chipotle. Delaney tried to comfort them.



Having finished our lunch, we ventured over to the local family rip-off, uh...I mean family "fun" place and had ourselves a good time.

Unfortunately, A&M didn't meet the height requirement to ride any of the rides.


We settled on miniature golf. The girls were just happy to be there (even if "there" meant being posted on Jeff's rear end.)


Hey wait...I thought they were in Spain...so how is it that we got a glimpse of them in Holland in this shot?


And here they are in a place that looks suspiciously like Kentucky...



The girls weren't even embarrassed to join me in a goofy little victory dance to celebrate a hole in one! (Well, maybe they were embarrassed, but they didn't complain or run away.)



Uh, girls...I know that looks like a festive place to hang out, but you might want to move.


In More News As We Are Wending Our Way...

Jeff delighted me with a sweet pucker up when he came home after his lip and gum numbing dental appointment. (Yes, I did kiss him once I stopped laughing.)


Here's a close-up:



Delaney has now joined the contact lens wearing members of society. Although she had a rough start (touching one's eyeballs is not natural), she is now excelling in the application and removal of her new vision aids.


I successfully removed and refitted a tire that had picked up a nail somewhere, all under the watchful eye and helpful guidance of my husband. It was the first time I had ever undertaken this "manly" task and I was pleased that the car drove normally afterward. (Regardless of how the picture looks, my knees are not suffering from Elephantitis.)




And as for Tobias...well, he's just creeping around...

So Sorry...

I seem to have unintentionally misled some of you with my last post.

I did not compose that poem in one sleepless night. I simply posted it. It took me several hours over several days to compose it last June.

Now I'll go back and rewrite the post to make that more clear.

Sorry!

The Insomniac-Poetess

Lying in bed, turning and tossing, is one of my least favorite hobbies, and yet, I seem to partake in it quite regularly. Thus you see before you tonight's (this morning's?) post.

I started to write this poem on our trip to Oregon and finished it a few days after we returned home. It is about how Time is simply a measurement of the Earth's rotation on its axis and its progress around the sun. Therefore, would Time cease if the Earth stopped in its movements?

Each instance of the Earth's parade
About its maypole sun
Officiates a year's demise--
Declares four seasons done

A year is meted out oblong
And into twelfths is sliced--
The portions thus produced are months
Which into weeks are diced

A week sequesters seven days
Of hours, twenty four
Which julienned with sharper tools
Make sixty segments more

Each minute's divvied sixty times
Into tidy seconds--
Today spins into yesterday
As tomorrow beckons

All lives are measured constantly
And shorter ever found--
Each period unrolls outstretched-
A skein of yarn unwound

If cosmic brakes applied could halt
The planet's pirouette
Or stop the sphere's race 'round the sun
To tick would clocks forget?

(Arrrgh...I'm still not tired.)

New Post Elsewhere

On August 16th, I started a new post and kept a draft of it. Tonight, I finished it, but when I published it, it appeared in its chronological order, so it's several posts back. I'm not blog-savvy enough to figure out how to alter the original date and place the post here. Oh well...So, if you want to read it, scroll down about six posts. It's called "Report to Carousel".

A Bit of Unexpected Encouragment

A couple of days ago, I was discouraged to see my hand emerge from my mailbox with a very fat envelope. You see, it was a group of my poems that had been sent back to me, rejected by yet another poetry journal (and no, I did not send them "Ode to Snot" nor the one about the wart on my foot.)

At dinner, though, Jeff said something that cheered me considerably.

Jeff: "You're quite popular at my work."

Me: "Huh?" (You see, I've only met one of the people he's presently working with. That was at Walmart and I couldn't imagine what charming thing I could have done or said while standing next to a large stack of Dial Soaps that would have endeared me to everyone in the Transpo Office.)

Jeff: "Yeah, Mrs. So and so says that you should be nominated for Wife of the Year."

Me, with an eyebrow raised: "Huh?" (At this point, I was beginning to think that he was being sarcastic and I almost slipped into defense mode.)

Jeff: "Yeah, she saw that you had packed me a lunch again today and said you deserved an award. Everybody sees the meals you send with me and says that you're awesome."

At this point, I started laughing because some of the meals I send with him are quite paltry. I mean, they're all edible (except for that one piece of cornbread that I didn't realize had turned rancid) but as for quality...they're just not very inspiring unless you're really into leftovers slopped into tupperware.

This made me so happy. I mean, I've been faithfully doing something that isn't really a big deal in my mind at all and apparently a number of people have noticed and appreciated it.

This doesn't thrill me because of my own "fame" at Jeff's office (in fact, if they actually tasted some of the food I send then they might withhold all future praise), but rather because they can see how our Christ-centered family functions. Jeff cares for me by going to a less-than-fabulous job every day and I care for him by packing him less-than-fabulous meals. Jeff's not shy about his beliefs so I'm sure everyone there knows He follows Christ and they probably suspect that I, Jeff's unseen wife, follow Christ as well.

Now, I realize this might not be something that you do, but that's okay. You don't need to pack meals for your husband to prove your love for Jesus to the world. If you truly do love Jesus then you are doing all sorts of things that convey that to others.

Christ's commandments to us to 1)Love God and 2)Love others automatically result in our actions shining brightly in this dark place and we are a witness of His love in even our most mundane tasks.

I hope that encourages you as much as it encourages me.

Feeling Blue?

If so:

1. Go to abc.go.com
2. Click on "Full Episodes" near the top left corner
3. Click on "Wipeout"
4. Choose an episode (week 8 is quite amusing)
5. Enjoy

If this doesn't bring a smile to your face then you should look into getting some counseling.

Pertinent Info That You May Never Get To Use

Tonight, Jeff was stuck at work, so the kids and I had dinner without him. Over the course of the meal, I was informed that I am a "mean mother" because I was forcing them to eat butter beans. They were just kidding...sort of.

Afraid that my "cool mom" status was on the blink, I pulled out a sure-fire child pleaser from my arsenal...a mango!

Free MangoTutorial:

Knowing that my quality of life has improved since I began buying these little beauties on a regular basis, I've decided to share my mango knowledge with those of you who may be lacking in this regard in hopes that you, too, will benefit.

You see, I experimented with mangoes once in my mid-twenties with uninspiring results, so it was not until about a year ago that I began enriching my existence with mangoes on a regular basis.

It is easy to become frustrated while preparing mangoes for consumption because they are slippery little buggers. Thus, I offer to you tips to make your experience easier and more fulfilling.

(Note: Never try to peel a whole mango. You will be left with a squishy mess and you may have destroyed much of the edible flesh in the process. Another note: Never try to remove the seed from a mango as you would do from an avocado. It WON'T work. Mango seeds are very mysterious. I doubt anyone has ever seen one completely devoid of mango meat.)

Step One:

Cut the sides off of the mango, circumnavigating the knife past the large and oddly shaped seed in the middle of the fruit.

Step Two:

With a knife, score the juicy flesh of the fruit in a checkerboard fashion, being careful not to pierce all the way through the skin. Then, "pop" the cubes of fruit out, thus preparing for palatable edification.


Step Three:

Eat.

Notice Tobias' eye-rolling state of mango-induced bliss and Delaney's covetous gaze as she struggles on with her portion of butter beans. (You may want to ingest these delectable bits in private until you master the art of controlling your reactions.)

Step Four:

While your children are partaking in the pleasure entitled "Mango", you can return to the cutting board and easily cut off the strip of skin that remains around the cross-sectioned, seeded portion of the mango.


Now it is your turn. Position yourself over the kitchen sink (your chin is about to start dripping) and bite all the remaining juicy flesh off of the seed. This is not the easiest part of the mango to eat--you gave those parts to your children. (Parenthood is full of such sacrifices.)

So...go out and buy some mangoes! If your first couple aren't that fabulous then try, try again. Some are definitely better than others, but once you get a really good one, you'll be hooked. I've had the best luck with mangoes that I bought at small Asian markets or fruit stands as opposed to those from supermarkets.

A Possible Farewell:

The reason why I entitled this post as I did is because the Large Hadron Collider is set to be activated sometime within the next three hours. I'll take this moment to bid you all adieu in case this is our last bit of communication.

(Fade out to REM's "It's The End Of The World As We Know It.")

It's Almost Over...

...Summer, that is.

I must confess that just about the only things I like about Summer are the family trips and the coleslaw. (Mix 1/2 cup mayo, 1/4 cup buttermilk, 1 and 1/2 tablespoons white vinegar, 1 teaspoon granulated onion powder, 2 and 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice, 1/3 cup sugar and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Pour over 16 ounces of shredded cabbage. Mix well and refrigerate for at least an hour. Voila! Yum.)

The heat of Summer feels like an assault on my soul. Every year, I feel like I'm just holding my breath until the end of September. It's almost here... :)

DEUTSCH:

I've been spending a lot of time at livemocha.com. Maybe a little too much. It seems that my English is suffering as a result of my quest for learning German. Yesterday, I was reading an article in Newsweek while at the gym and I stumbled on the word "only".

"On-lee?" I thought for an instant. "What's that? Oh, ah yes...own-lee as in 'singularly'."

Not only is my English suffering, but my German is about that of a 1 year old Berliner. I thought I had learned a lot, but Jeff had a co-worker who is a native German call me on the phone. She asked me, "Wie heisst du?" (What's your name?)

My brain totally seized. I asked, "Uh, can you say that again, but verrrrrry sloooooowly?" Yeah, I'm lame.

I love German because it seems like an amusing, trumpt up version of English. A lot of the words are the same or at least similar and they have a bunch of fabulous words that we can only tilt our heads at. This week's picks are:

Radiergummi = eraser
Zimmerschlussel = roomkey
Lebensmittelgeschaft = supermarket

Technically, there are supposed to be some umlauts thrown in there, but my keyboard is ill-equipt.

Jeff's New Experience:

Jeff's off on an overnight "extraction" for work. He and two partners will remove a couple of minors from the places they're in and bring them back to Juvenile Hall. The minors aren't expecting this turn of events and apparently it can sometimes get a bit scrappy since they aren't necessarily happy about going back to the Hall. One of the minors they're extracting this time is a big football player. Jeff says I shouldn't be worried about anything because one of Jeff's partners looks like he could be Djimon Hounsou's fraternal twin:Okay, that's cool.

I Am So Incredibly Glucklich!

A couple of days ago, I ran across what might be my all-time favorite internet discovery!

A year ago, my friend, Tecla, was teaching me the Romanian words to worship songs because we were going to Romania to put on a one day women's conference and I wanted to sing the songs with the women. I loved it. Languages fascinate me.

Well...lately, I've really been wanting to learn to speak another language. I mean, I know a little bit of French and even less Spanish, but I certainly can't have a real conversation in either one.

I was thinking about buying a Rosetta Stone program for my computer, but they are so expensive! Also, I knew it would be most practical (by far) to learn Spanish than any other language considering where I live. However, Spanish doesn't really capture my imagination like something like Gaelic does. (My hometown isn't exactly crawling with Gaels.)

Anyway, I didn't think it would be good-stewardly of me to buy a several hundred dollar program in order to learn a language that I'd pretty much never use, but the desire to become bilingual was so intense.

Of course, I prayed about it, not wanting to pour myself into something that would be a complete waste of time, but still feeling this strong want.

Hee, hee, hee...a couple of days ago I ran across this website where you can learn languages in a Rosetta Stone type manner and...it's FREE! It's at www.livemocha.com and it is awesome! (No, I'm not getting paid to write this.)

I chose German. Why? It makes me laugh (and Gaelic isn't an option).

German is great! I mean, what other language uses "Kugelschreiber" for 'pen' and "Krankenschwester" for 'nurse'? (Okay, quite obviously no other language does, but it's very cool that German does.)

I've learned so much in just three days. Sure, my conversations are limited to inane sentences such as: The woman is on the couch (Die Frau ist auf dem Sofa) and A boy is in the car (Ein Junge ist im Auto), but still...I'm loving it. (And, yes, I was supposed to capitalize all of those nouns.)

If you want to learn Hindi, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Spanish, French, Portuguese or a few others (sorry, April, :( Romanian isn't offered ), then check it out.

It's very effective and some people (like me) would go so far as to say that it's fun. Native speakers correct your assignments and you get to correct assignments of people who are learning English. You can chat on line in English or whatever you're learning and you can work on your course of study whenever you want...

thus my excitement!!!

(By the way, "glucklich" means 'happy'.)

5th, 8th and No Sky Light

The kids are back in school. I took pictures on the morning of their first day back, but they were both acting so goofy that the pics didn't turn out very well.

Delaney was uneasy about going back to school because only one of her five "best friends" was going to be in her new class. My assurances that she would make new friends soon only seemed to annoy her. Anxiety always seems to accompany change in her life. I remember that the first few weeks of first grade were really tough. She'd come home and seem fine, but then an hour later she'd burst into tears. When asked what was the matter, she'd blubber, "I don't know...I don't know!" I'd just hold her, thinking about how sometimes I feel like doing that, too. :)

Anyway, she has a male teacher this year for 5th grade and he's a very smart guy. He's been teaching the students "magic" tricks every day and their only homework so far has been to go home and perform the tricks for their family and anyone else who'll watch. That's one way to get the kids to like you! Delaney looks so cute and pleased when she has successfully wowed us.

Is that a grumpy girl with a super long tongue?

Nope, it's a happy girl with a big slice of red bell pepper.


Tobias is now a big, bad 8th grader. He recently dyed his hair black. What teenage boy doesn't want to do this at some point? I wasn't expecting to like it, but it looks quite nice with his eyes.

He had a wonderful time at the jr. high retreat. He came back saying that it was the best week of his life. On Thursday night, he was asked if he wanted to prepare a devotional for the following morning. He decided to prepare for it early Friday morning so that he wouldn't have to miss out on the fun that was happening on Thursday night. So, the counselor woke Tobias up at 5:00 am. Tobias knew he couldn't turn on the cabin light and wake up all the other kids and he thought he might get in trouble if he wandered off outside. Hmmm...there was only one place left to go...the bathroom, and there was only one seat there on which to sit...the toilet. So, he sat there looking up scriptures and taking notes on how to facilitate the discussion! If he goes into public speaking, he can always say that his career had humble beginnings. :)


What you see above has been a bane on our lives ever since we bought this house. It was a skylight in the den. The roof leaked around it and at certain hours it baked whatever poor fool was sitting at the computer. The sun would beat down and make you feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

I wrote all of that in past tense because the skylight is no more. Yay! We had it removed and part of the roof redone over the past two days.


After we stain the wood, we'll be able to focus on fixing our shower:


Estimated date of completion--2033 (about the same time the mortgage is paid off.)

Speaking of monetary assets...I was at a party recently and a woman and I began to discuss a particular dining room set that we were looking at. She turned to me and asked, "So, in what style do you furnish your home?"

Realizing that she was serious, I quelled the chuckle that was tickling my throat, wondering, How do I answer this one?

I was afraid that my honest answer of "I furnish it with all of my relatives' cast off bits and pieces" might sound snide, so I floundered around until I heard myself say, "I'm big on practical items." (Hey, it's very practical to get free stuff from people who don't want it anymore, right?)

Apparently, this lady (who was a very nice lady, by the way) didn't know that she was talking with a member of a lower class. My Ross-bought duds didn't give me away! (Yesterday, I bought a dress at Ross for $2.99! I have to replace the zipper, but still...)

Report to Carousel

If you're sad about something, you may want to hold off on reading this post, or at least get a Wipeout episode revved up and ready to view.

Anybody remember that movie called "Logan's Run"? It was a sci-fi type flick that channel five aired once a year back in the day before DVD players (or even VCRs).

I may not have the story completely correct, but basically, the people of Earth had created an indoor Utopia. I think there had been a war or some cataclysmic event that had destroyed life outdoors. Anyway, a weird thing about this new society was that once a citizen reached the age of about 30, they heard their name called over the intercom system and they were ordered to "Report to Carousel".

Sounds nice, right? Pick a slow moving horse on the merry go round and relax for a few minutes as you gently move in circles.

Wrong!

"Carousel" was this big, round room equipped with lasers. Those who were "reporting to Carousel" arrived having donned these weird white uniforms. They would situate themselves around the Carousel's perimeter while the rest of the people (those who had not been ordered to report to Carousel) filled the audience bleachers to watch. When everyone was ready, Carousel would slowly begin to spin, the 30 and up crowd would float up into the air and one by one they'd get zapped (and thus obliterated) until they had all disappeared.

Creepy stuff (even if I did get a few of the details wrong).

Logan was this one guy who heard his name called and he decided he wasn't going to cooperate with his annihilators. He ran off (with a beautiful woman, of course) and thus the movie was entitled "Logan's Run".

I remember being about Delaney's age and asking my dad, "Why are they zapping all those people?"

He informed me that that society didn't value people once they reached a certain age and that they were looked at as burdens, so for "the good of everyone", they were disposed of.

That totally freaked me out. I mean, at that time 30 did seem pretty ancient to me, but still...

I think what disturbed me the most was that the people willingly reported to Carousel and the others came to watch the mass murder like it was some sporting event.

And my point is...

It horrified my little-girl-mind that these people weren't valuing each other or even themselves.

Now, we can watch that movie and call it ridiculous, but by observing actual human nature, it really isn't that far fetched.

I just finished Elie Weisel's Nobel Peace Prize winning book, Night. It's his real life story about living in concentration camps and barely surviving. To say the story is horrendous is the understatement of a lifetime. Ultimately, what it's about is the negligence to value human lives and even beyond that to sadistically enjoy doing so.

The sick things described really happened. Reporting to Carousel genuinely seems like a very pleasant alternative.

A more recent example...

The other day, I read a news article about this famous "adult entertainer" who was the spokesperson for some foundation that was dedicated to educating women. Curious, I read on. Well, she was educating women that they should always require their sexual partners to use condoms. She said that a lot of women are afraid to do so.

WHAT?

Women are giving away their bodies (and arguably bits of their souls) and they're afraid to have parameters in regards to the process? Where are the boundaries in our society? Sick...

It's all a part of not valuing each other or ourselves.

So what about me...

Okay, so my examples thus far are pretty far removed from my day to day experience, but am I successfully valuing others as I ought?

My efforts to do so are pretty pathetic.

Yes, we sponsor a few kids through Compassion and yes, we are attempting to teach our kids good manners and values, and yes, we buy meals for any homeless person who approaches us, but what about everything else that I could be doing?

By American standards, my kids both needed braces very badly.


(Sorry about that, just illustrating my point!)

Straightening one's teeth is more than just for vanity's sake. There are benefits for oral hygiene and even digestive health, but how drastic of an improvement is made in either of these areas?

Braces cost about $4,000 per kid. If I'd given that money to a specified organization, they probably could have dug a well for an entire village in some African country or fed the entire village for a year.

Still, I handed it over to an orthodontist and said, "Straighten my kid's teeth."

You can call me overly dramatic, but it's clear to me that I just deprived an entire village of a much needed well.

Living in middle class America is like living in a carefully tended bubble where the temperatures of our homes are just right, the food is so abundant that a bunch of it rots in our fridges, the entertainment is constant, there are effective medicines for headaches, kids can get a decent education for free, a truck comes by every Tuesday to collect our trash, etc., etc., etc. It's every day life for us, but it's a veritable dreamland for the vast majority of the actual world.

I like taking vacations. I want my kids to have those memories with us and see the sights, but how many truckloads of medicine could I have bought sick people with the money I spent on our fabulous trip to Oregon?

I like fixing Jeff a juicy steak instead of serving him beans and rice after a hard day's work, but think of all the beans and rice I could buy for starving people if I limited our own grocery budget.

I like spending money on haircuts, but think of all the Bibles I could send to China in one year if I let my locks just grow.

Welcome to the inside of my head.

I can't talk myself out of these convictions...and yet how much do I actually do about them?

This whole post is somewhat rhetorical (although I'd love to hear whatever any of you have to say). For years I've struggled with these haunting thoughts of entitlement and lack of generosity.

I still remember being about 10 and seeing the distended bellies of starving Ethiopian children on TV. I sent about 8 dollars to the relief fund which was a huge chunk of my piggy bank's contents, but I knew it wasn't enough. Nor was it all that I had.

How many of my actions (or inactions) will I regret when I report to Carousel?

(Sorry if you needed a pick-me-up. This probably wasn't it.)