The View from Here

I've seen a lot of this lately:

Our family will exit our car and as we're walking into wherever it is that we're going, my husband will grab my daughter's hand with Tobias and I trailing behind.

(No, I don't grasp onto Tobias's hand so that we, too, can walk in a similar manner. That would be very weird, even if he would allow it.)

So there I am, walking behind my man who is holding the hand of a younger and thinner version of myself.

Am I okay with that?

Absolutely.

I cherish them both so much and am overjoyed to witness their genuine adoration of each other.

Someday, I'll have my place back, walking hand in hand with my husband, but for now I gladly make room for my daughter. (Don't any of you other ladies get any ideas, though. ;) )

At thirteen, Delaney is only benefited by the attention of a caring, protective man who has no ulterior motives. His treatment of her is teaching her what she should expect from any man who desires her attention: respect, attentiveness, gentleness, appreciation.

I want her to compare what she has with her dad to what she has with every prince or jester who comes along and send the foolios packing.


Oh God, may she be ruined for any lesser loves.

The Volturi are After Me!

Well, they might be after this post.

Loving the idea of e-readers and how they are a complete library in the palm of one's hand, I recently checked a Kindle out at the library and happily brought it home.


While scrolling through the 45 + books stored in the nifty little device, I noticed that the Twilight Saga was included.

"Hmmm," I thought, selecting it. "Let's see what this teen literature phenomenon is all about."

I realize I am way late catching this train, but I've never been first in line for anything considered "cool" 'cause frankly, when it comes to trends...

I. Just. Don't. Care.

Up until this point, I've kept very quiet about the whole controversy of Twilight. Having looked like a complete idiot on more than one horrific occasion, I've learned to keep my mouth shut if I don't know anything about a topic.

(Side note: Hey Christians, I believe our demographic would have more credibility with the general populace if we educated ourselves about issues before we busted out our very strong opinions. Just a thought...)

But now, having finished Book 3 last night, I can tap out my take on the saga (or the first three books anyway).

The pros:

1. The vast majority of the story takes place in one of my favorite places on God's lusciously green and gorgeous earth...the Olympic Peninsula!

2. The plot was, in fact, interesting enough to keep me turning pages.

The cons:

1. Although there were some rather clever ideas, there were also some really cheesy ones like the whole skin-sparkling-in-the-sun-thing and how Jacob kept a pair of shorts handy. (I realize that the author had to explain somehow that he wasn't naked when he morphed back into human form from werewolf form, but are we expected to believe that a wolf is capable of bungee cording a pair of shorts onto his hind leg? It would have made more sense to dress the werewolf/boys in ultra stretchy shorts that would stay in place no matter what form their wearer was in. However, a pack of Spanx-clad wolves might not prove to be very intimidating. Hold on...am I actually thinking through what would be the most realistic clothing option for a werewolf? Let's move on, shall we?)

2. The sappy romance factor was way over the top. How many times can Edward's smouldering eyes bore into Bella's without the poor girl needing a double corneal transplant?

3. My biggest problem with the saga is how it could make young girls think about male/female relationships.

(To me, the fact that it involves vampires isn't particularly offensive. I mean, vampires are imaginary creatures on the level of the witch who wanted to eat Hansel and Gretel...



and Klingons...


In fact, the most vampiric thing that reality has to offer are guys like this:


Hmmm...feeling tempted to give up your humanity? Yeah, me neither.)

For example, when Bella finds out that Edward has been sneaking into her room at night to watch her sleep, her main reaction is embarrassment over what she may have said while talking in her sleep.

HELLO!

Homeboy's been sneaking into your room at night!!! How creepy and wrong is that??? It makes some voyeur hiding in the front yard's shrubbery with a pair of binoculars seem almost cute in comparison.

In chapter 20 of Book 3, Bella literally begs Edward to have sex with her. It's difficult for him, but he refuses. How grounded in reality is that?

Seriously!?!?

What's the likely outcome if a 15 year old Twi-hard tries that one on her boyfriend? A very few young men might pull a Joseph (Genesis 39:12) but what about the other 99.98%?

You might argue that Edward, although appearing as a 17 year old, is actually 108 and therefore annealed to his own desires by his maturity and life experience.

Ummm...let's take a cruise over to the nearest convalescent hospital. See Clarence over there in the corner? I think it's quite likely that (assuming his hearing aid is on) when Ethel starts pleading for physical satisfaction that he's going to make quite an effort to comply, 108 or not.

Possibly the most disturbing thing to me is how Bella entrusts her safety to this guy who admits that his strongest instincts are urging him to suck the life blood right out of her. He tells her regularly that he fears he's going to end up possibly killing her. Yet, because of her great love for him and his confessed adoration of her, she consistently sneaks off alone with him.

Sure, there aren't actually boys who want to drink the blood of our daughters (not many anyway) but the real boys surrounding them do have some other incredibly strong drives which can seriously damage girls' minds and bodies. (No, I'm not a misandrist, but I know enough males to know that even the good ones have to daily fight an arduous battle to keep their urges in check.) If girls apply Bella's reasoning to their own situation ("But he loves me!") they might be signing up for a whole truckload of sorrows.

Personally, I'm very glad that my daughter scoffs at this series and has no interest in reading it. In fact, she's probably going to be mortified if she finds out that I'm reading it.

There are a few other points I could harp on, but I think I've enraged both Teams Edward and Jacob enough for one day. Hopefully they'll be as gracious to me as Edward was when he found out that Bella made out with Jacob.

:)

A Solemn Tale

Let's talk about youth-in-asia.

No, not that kind.

The other kind. The kind that you have to think about long and hard before you make a decision and even after you decide you keep on thinking.

Euthanasia.

Yep, that's the one.

Two nights ago, Delaney and I were walking the dogs when Bruiser suddenly collapsed. His hind legs were awkwardly folded underneath him.

The maternal instincts in us both kicked in as we crooned and coddled. He just looked at us like, "Yeah, so I'm stuck in the middle of the road. So what?"

After several minutes of resting, he stood up and began to hop forward on three legs. We were far enough away from home that I knew that wasn't going to work, so I left Delaney holding his leash while Duncan and I dashed home so I could return with the car.

Getting him up into the car wasn't the easiest physical task of my day. (We're talking at least 80 pounds of dog here.)

Driving home I knew this was the end of Bruiser's walking days. His hind legs have bothered him for a long time now. (We could tell by the creaky, slow way he had of getting up from a laying down position. Yet he still got excited every time we got the leashes down from the nail where they hang in the garage.) But clearly, with his legs buckling during a leisurely stroll, things were different.

When we got home, we helped him out of the backseat and were deeply saddened to see him unable to bear weight on his left hind leg. He plunked down in the garage. I moved the water bowl within his reach and petted his big orange head.

At nearly 13 years of age, we knew his best years were far behind him and it would break our hearts to leave him behind every time we walked Duncan, so...

...yesterday we drove him to the vet for the last time. He hobbled from the car to the office door.

Without warning, he started dropping doggy bombs in front of the building while I was signing him in. (His bowels haven't had the best control in the past year or so. Good thing he was an outdoor dog.)

After awhile, they called us back to a private room and asked Jeff to put him up on the waist-high examination table. He looked so big on that thing. The four of us stood around him, talking to and petting him.

He was happy as ever, drooling all over the place and cocking his head at the sounds of other dogs going past the closed door in the hallway.

Jeff started to question if we were doing the right thing because Bruiser was still so alert and inquisitive. I reminded him that Bruiser's walking days were over, not just around the neighborhood but even to the food bowl, though I must confess that it was unsettling to know that this sweet lively creature was soon to be stilled forever.

Soon, the nurse (nurse?) came in and gave Bruiser a sedative. It took a few minutes to take effect, but once it did, we couldn't help but chuckle at the change in him. He was trippin' hard. I could almost hear him say, "Whoa, man. I'm tasting colors, man, and blue is faaaaaar out."

His head sank down to his front paws and he started slowly looking back and forth as if he was watching a very sluggish tennis match. Also, he was licking his lips, but he couldn't quite finish the job, so his tongue would hang slackly.

Soon though, they moved him completely on his side. He was so big that his head was partly over the edge. He had pretty much lost control of his mouth so his long old tongue was hanging half way to the floor, dripping a pool of drool onto the linoleum. That was hard to watch because it was so undignified that we felt genuinely badly for him. (Not that he ever had much dignity considering we caught him gobbling up turds on more than one occasion.)

The vet came in, shaved a bit of Bruiser's leg and stuck him with a needle, slowly injecting a pink liquid into him while we continued to pet him and talk to him.

He suddenly shuddered and then was still. The vet put her stethoscope to his chest and solemnly announced that he was gone. The two ladies left the room, telling us to take as much time as we wanted to say goodbye.

We stayed for a few more minutes, knowing that we'd never see him again. Tobias tried to close Bruiser's eyelids, though it didn't work. Delaney sniffled and talked about what a nice dog he had been.

And then we left.



Our Bruiser--
We will miss your floppy ear,
The white tip of your curly tail,
Your unusually orange coat,
The soulfulness of your beautiful brown eyes
And your deep resonating bark.
You were about as sharp as a marble
And your breath smelled like your insides were rotting,
But you were indeed a good boy
And we were happy to have you in our family for so many years.

Update

I suppose some of you might be wondering if we've heard anything about Jeff's interviews. Well, as it turns out, with each of the three agencies, Jeff is on eligibility lists. In other words, he did well in the interviews/tests but they are not offering him a job at this time though they are keeping him in mind.

It's all good. We are at peace about it and though I enjoy a bit of excitement, if it barges into my life unaccompanied by peace then it just gives me the runs and that's annoying...and disgusting.

In related news, a job opportunity at his present place of employment is opening up and he applied for it. Although getting this job wouldn't daily surround our family with the beauty that is the Pacific Northwest, it would be a great thing in a lot of other ways, so we will hopefully await news of that (which may not come for several months).

2,600 Miles Plus

One night while I was jogging at the park, I was pondering how best to get Jeff back up to the Pacific Northwest to have that third interview when it dawned on me, "If we drove then we could all go."

Almost immediately I dismissed the idea as ludicrous. We'd have to drive for two days up and two days back. That would only leave us two days to relax and enjoy ourselves.

When I got home, I told Jeff about the ridiculous notion I had briefly entertained, laughing while doing so.

"That's sounds kinda nice," he responded.

Huh?!?!

Later, I braced myself for vociferous protests as I told Tobias, "Don't worry, honey, because we're not planning on doing this, but I was wondering how you'd feel about all of us driving up together so that your dad can have that interview. It'd be about 12 hours a day in the car for two days up and then another 12 hours a day for two days back."

He shrugged. "That sounds alright. I'd get a lot of reading done."

What?!?!

Surely Delaney would see sense when I proposed the idea to her...

...apparently not.

With the utmost insistence, I repeated to them all how long we'd be in the car and that we'd only have two days not in the car. I emphasized that all the other vacations we've ever gone on have had the main purpose of enjoying ourselves, but that this I-hesitate-to-refer-to-it-as-a-vacation would be all about getting there and getting back so any fun they had on four of the six days would be a surprising bonus.

They all stuck to their stories.

Okay, I thought. We'll see how y'all feel about it when your butts are numb and the only view out the window is the tail end of a smog-belching semi-truck.

We left very early on Day 1. Here is the obligatory start the trip photo:



As you can imagine, this...


...is how the kids spent much of their time.

I didn't take many pictures on the first day until we sighted Mt. Shasta.

From there on out, the drive up was beautiful beyond belief.

Day 2 = driving

Day 3, we woke up at our friends' house and enjoyed the relaxing sensation of not having to climb into the car.

Instead, the guys paddle boarded...


They went all the way across the lake and out of sight.

They returned about an hour later.


No, Jeff's not flirting with the camera. Whilst paddling to his heart's content, he slipped off the board and lost his sunglasses in the great blue wet surrounding him.

We then enjoyed some bocci ball.


Shortly after this bit of idyllic lake life, it was time for Jeff to prepare himself for his interview.

I'd hire this guy. Wouldn't you?

The interview was rather intense, involving questions about fellow officers being shot and how to prevent child abuse, etc. You know, the kind of stuff that cops have to deal with all the time.

It was nice once it was over so we could just relax and enjoy the day and a half that we had left outside of our car.

We filled the time with swimming...

...jumping...


...dog adoring...

...watching Mimi-hoola-hoop-on-the-diving-board...


...savory pie eating...



foul-donut-eating (yes, that is bacon draped across that maple bar)...

...and a delightful activity involving buckets and muddy rows of lush fruit-bearing plants...






Mimi and Rylee know how to hold the box of berries without simultaneously pillaging it...


...a skill which my family seems to be lacking. See how Tobias is double-fisting it?

All too soon, Days 3 and 4 had slipped away in a pleasant blur and we had Days 5 and 6 with their promises of freeways and stretching limbs every 100 miles staring us in the face.

There were some bits of amusement along the way, such as Tobias's magnificent examples of bed-headedness (or is that backseat-headedness?):


We also caught sight of Sonic's directives to their carhops. Note the fourth bullet-point:


Jeff and Tobias did their best to encourage the workers that they were succeeding in their labors:



Soon, we saw Mt. Shasta again and knew that it signaled the final section of gloriously beautiful landscape on our trip.



*sigh*

A ginormous thank you to Jay, Diana and their girls for hosting us yet again in our quest for Pacific-Northwestern-residency. You guys are so wonderful. We loved every minute of our stay with you. :)

Oh, and the update of the job situation is: When we arrived home from our 44+ hours-in -the-car-over-a-six-day-period-trip, there was a letter waiting for Jeff from the first place where he was interviewed. It said that he had done well and had been placed on an eligibility list which would be valid for a year. At any point in the next year he could be contacted for employment or he could not. Hmm, that's pretty open-ended, huh? We're still waiting to hear from the other two places.

It's all good.

Time to Spill

Okay, so we've had something simmering away on the back burner for the past year and I don't think I've mentioned a word about it here.

The time has come.

I'm not going to include all the details which is a favor to you because it'd probably make for some very dull reading, but here's the gist:

We LOVE the Pacific Northwest. We've been there several times and each time we leave loving it more.

This time last year, two days into our family vacation, Jeff turned to me and said, "Life is too short to not live here."

It was as if he was reading my mind.

Immediately, we began looking into various job opportunities for Jeff. Within two months, we were back up there so he could take a written and physical test. If he did well then he would be eligible to apply for various law enforcement positions in our beloved region.

We also took time to peruse several communities where we could afford homes to see if they would be a good fit for our family.

Well, Jeff did very well on his test, the results of which were sent out to multiple agencies. We were told that the agencies might contact him over the next year and a half to invite him to send them an application. Or, they might not. So we waited...

Several sent-in-apps later we started fielding calls for invitations to oral board interviews. He turned the first few down for various reasons.

Many months passed with virtually nothing happening in regards to us uprooting our well established lives and staking a claim elsewhere. Jeff and I were both at peace with that. In fact, when asked how serious we were about doing so, my reply was, "We don't want to go unless we get a green light and all the cars behind us are honking."

Last March, we took our vacation up there again and the verdant stretches of landscape rekindled our desires. Still, we knew we wanted to have no part in an actual move unless we were very confident that it would be the best thing for our family and the parts we're playing in God's kingdom. (In case you're wondering what that last bit means, it's this: We know that God has put us on this earth for a limited time and we want to make the most of that span, not concerned primarily with whatever whims we have to please ourselves but to actually serve God's purposes which are often mysterious, indeed.)

Well, in late June, Jeff received a letter inviting him to take part in an oral board interview in an area we love and where we could afford more than a garden shed in which to live. We had been scrimping and saving money for just this situation, so the only thing left was for Jeff to get the time off of work.

This wasn't likely because time off is hard to come by at his work. In fact, workers are supposed to request summer time off in February and he already had a week approved off for August.

We prayed for God to open doors He wanted open and close doors He wanted closed and were soon delighted to hear that Jeff's time off was granted. :)

Thus, the shopping trip which resulted in the ridiculously cheap suit . (You didn't think we did that just for kicks, did you?)

Then something really fun happened. I came home from running errands one day to find a message on our voice mail from another agency in a great area inviting Jeff to an oral board during the time we would already be up there!!!

A blessed twofer!

So, five flight legs, three days and two oral boards later, we arrived home, tired but very pleased with our little venture. Although Jeff wishes he had said a few things differently in the interviews, he felt satisfied that he had represented himself well and accurately. A couple of interviewers told him afterward that he had done well. That was encouraging because it's not as if they had to go out of their way to say so. They could have just said, "Have a nice day" or nothing at all.

We drove home from the airport with a sense of peace, believing that the way we've pursued this dream is pleasing to our God and knowing that He is a Father Who will continue to lead and care for us wherever we are.

*titter titter*

Sorry, I'm just thinking of what happened next...

When we arrived home, it was 11:30pm and we were exhausted, but Jeff wanted to check our email. In doing so, he discovered that he was being invited to an oral board with a third agency during the week that he already had off in August!!! So much for sleeping that night!

*hardy guffaw*

Obviously we have no idea how this will all end, but we do know that we're in the hands of the One who does. :) There's great peace in that.

Huh?

Tonight, as he sat at the kitchen table, spooning chocolate pudding from a Snack-Pack cup into his mouth, Tobias said, "I wonder how the world would be different today if Trotsky had triumphed over Stalin."




???


I love how weird my kids are.

The Idiot's Guide to Men's Wear

We tried something new recently.

It's called:

Buying a suit.

We won't be making a hobby of it. In fact, we hope to never have to do it again.

After lunch at Chipotle, Jeff, Delaney and I drove over to Kohl's (I had a 30% off coupon) and wandered into foreign territory. Naively, I really wasn't nervous at the start.

Hmmm...

What's with the numbers? They're obviously a measurement of something, but what? Although, who thinks to bring a tape measure? But even if I had, I wouldn't know what part to hold it up to. Is this number from shoulder to shoulder? Is this one around the neck? And what about this one? Is it from inner thigh to armpit? Thumbnail to eyebrow?

There was no poster on the wall with multiple photos and captions entitled, "Info on Measuring for the as of Yet Unsuited". (That would have been very helpful.)

Unfortunately, this guy wasn't there either:


So the only thing to do was to just start trying things on.

First, a shirt. However, the shirt Jeff picked up was heavily packaged. It included cardboard, several pieces of plastic, pins, a twist tie or two and a bit of tissue paper (I assume to dry away one's tears of frustration). It was tediously similar to unpackaging the super duper GI Joe campsite set for your kid on Christmas morning.

We hoped fervently the whole time that the thing would actually fit him once it was freed from its restraints because there was no way we would be able to wrestle it back into its former confines.

Of course there was no trash can nearby, so Jeff just piled all the debris on top of a display of shirts.

(We don't normally leave piles of trash in our wake, honestly.)

I'm overjoyed to report that the shirt did fit (and so are the workers at Kohl's since that's fewer bits of garbage for them to carry off to the dumpster out back).

At this point, we overheard some poor soul who had just wandered in tell his wife, forlornly, "I don't even know where to start."

A kindred spirit! Jeff almost walked past a couple of racks to give the guy a high-five.

Delaney quickly found a great tie. All three of us liked it right away so we didn't even bother looking in that section anymore. The jacket and trouser sections were looming forebodingly nearby.


We gingerly ventured into the dark underworld and began to lift hangers heavily laden with garments from racks, peering at them with innocent eyes, silently begging them to give up their secrets.

Almost immediately, I could tell that this place had old man suits for people who would normally wear bowling shirts and khakis and young man suits for those who don skinny jeans and body piercings. So where were the suits for guys who are pushing 40 and wear band t-shirts and cargo shorts?

Thus, our search began.

About an hour and a half later, we were standing in the checkout line with the most suitable selection we could find draped over our arms.

This slightly creepy looking guy is not Jeff in his new suit:

Nor is this one:


Sorry, they just made me laugh.

Another thing that made me laugh giddily was staring at the receipt as we were exiting the store. You see, everything was on sale for 30%-50% off, so that combined with the amazing aforementioned coupon resulted in...ONE RIDICULOUSLY CHEAP SUIT!


(Not Jeff's suit.)

Ahhh, here he is...


(A pitiable plea to those of you who are well-versed in the world of men's wear: Please do not inform us of any fashion faux-pas we may have committed in pairing this jacket with these trousers or that tie with the shirt, etc. Just pat us on our ignorant backs and nod, saying, "Good job, suit pickers." People with discriminating taste could probably pick the above ensemble to scorned pieces in seconds, but it's what we ended up with after a couple of very uncomfortable hours of searching, and honestly...


...fashion blunders and all, I think my man looks HOT!)