Of Life and Legos

Hence the Name of this Blog

2012-02-08T11:44:00.000-08:00

Isaac's school journal entry for Feb. 8, 2012:

Lego Universe is shut down, but that dosen't mean we can't have fun! We found two other lego games! One is Lego Harry Potter, jumping and casting through levels. And Lego Indiana Jones, shooting gunners and driving veicles on ramps. I realy realy realy like legos!

The River

2012-02-02T11:24:00.000-08:00

The river was a magical place. To passersby, it may have looked muddy, weedy, uninviting. But to young teenage souls it was adventure and independence.

On foot or by pedal, all summer long we'd turn off the road at Mr. Alderson's farm and follow the dirt road past barns and through fields until we reached the sand and gravel bar. Tall river grasses waved along the dirt road, and slippery mud caked the embankment down to the water's edge. A thin strip of silty sand was our beach, but it was as grand as Malibu as we basked in the sunshine and responsibility of being our own lifeguards and chaperones.

Although we all knew how to swim, our parents had warned us sternly about the dangers of currents, undertows and snags. Swimming in the river was dangerous, and we had better exercise the utmost care and caution or it could be our lives! Oh, the thrill!

So of course we soon found a way to swim not just near the shore, but across the river. We trekked upstream a quarter mile or so, began our crossing, and carried gently by the current, landed safely on the rocky shore opposite our lovely beach. If we didn't start out high enough, or swim fast enough, the river would sweep us past the comfortable exiting spot and we'd be forced to beach amidst blackberry brambles further downstream.

Besides the glory and pride of merely crossing the river, a rope swing dangled tantalizingly from a tree overhanging the opposite shore. Those strong and brave enough to cross were rewarded with the thrill of a whoosh, splash and the jealous admiration of those left standing on the other side.

Besides the thrill of adventure, the river was also a bulletin board for teenage hearts too shy to say what they desperately wanted to tell. "I like Jamie." "MJ+TS" I'll never forget the tingle of seeing my name in a heart in the sand. Or how it felt to see the initials I adored linked with another's.

I wandered back to that childhood playground years later. It was a chilly day, and the ground was muddy and damp, the river grumpy and brown. Reeds obscured the footpath, and there was no rope swing. There were no hearts or initials in the sand. It was just a river bar.

The magic that had been there wasn't actually tied to the land or the river itself -- it was the laughter and horseplay we had brought with us. It was the smiles and the love, the never-gonna-end friendships, the belief that we would be young and happy forever that gave the river its charm.

I suppose it could have been a forest. For some, maybe it was a park. A fort. A hiding place. A ball field where anything could happen and dreams came true. For one summer, mine was an enchanted river.

Riding Lightly on Top

2012-01-25T18:50:00.000-08:00

I just now finished reading East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I don't remember when or how it came to be on my "to read" list, but it did, and now it's done.

It's a long book, and deep. I didn't go deep into it, and often as I read I felt the urge to stop and mull for awhile, knowing there would be much to gain from ruminating on it. But that's not how I read, at least that's not how I read 600-page library books on their second renewal. I felt the need to devour it, snarf it down while time and momentum were in my favor.

And then a paragraph jumped out at me, and I read it over and over and then wrote it down, because it so aptly described my feelings.

"Samuel rode lightly on top of a book and he balanced happily among ideas the way a man rides white rapids in a canoe. But Tom got into a book, crawled and groveled between the covers, tunneled like a mole among the thoughts, and came up with the book all over his face and hands."

I think I would have enjoyed getting this book "all over my hands and face" -- there's certainly enough in it to get good and messy with. And yet that kind of digging takes a lot of time, and I'm not sure that this book is worthy of that kind of time. I know, I've insulted someone, many someones from various literary societies, likely.

But here's the deal. How much of my life do I want to invest in "getting" a book? I enjoy reading, but I often feel like I'm missing out on something else -- something real -- when I sit down with a novel.

A few days ago I passed on playing hide-and-seek with my family in favor of reading. I sat there on the couch distracted for a good three pages or more while I wrestled with whether it wouldn't be better to be engaging with my family. I read. I felt a twinge of guilt. I got over it. Mostly.

Perhaps at this stage of my life, there is enough pull of duty and enjoyment in other areas, that reading feels a bit like a guilty pleasure. It definitely is a pleasure. I hope it's not really too guilty, because there are still a lot of books on the "to read" list, and it just keeps growing! But perhaps I should start with the shorter ones, and for now stick to riding lightly on top of them.

It is great, but not like that.

2012-01-23T12:59:00.000-08:00

Y'know, I'm pretty pro-homeschool. I'm not anti-public school. But I do love homeschooling. But sometimes the notions people have about the perks of homeschooling just don't sound so... perky... to me.

"It must be nice to be able to schedule dentist appointments any time of day instead of having to be after 3:15."

Actually, morning appointments totally throw me off. The students show up late for class. The teacher even plays hooky. The whole school shuts down. And when everyone finally gets around to showing up and getting their pencils sharpened, the routine is completely out the window and I'm stressed because now I'm trying to fit in so many hours' work into a much smaller timeframe. It makes me grumpy. I try to stay away from morning dentist appointments.

"It must be great to be able to take days off whenever you want just because you feel like it."

It is great to be flexible enough to schedule vacation time to line up with family visits and trips, but we don't take days off just because I don't feel like doing school some days, or we'd only have school for about three weeks in September when I'm still really pumped about all our shiny books and new curriculum and craft ideas. Once the glossy covers get all smudgy with fingerprints and I've burned all my energy reserves for the year building a totally sweet miniature Indian village, my excitement wanes. But we keep doing school anyway.

"It must be great to not have to get up early."

Oh wait. That is great. It truly is fabulous. It's one of the best parts of being a homeschooler. Every morning that I see the buses rolling around town at 7:45, I rejoice that most of our kids don't have to be up, dressed, fed, functional and on that bus at that precise moment. That doesn't mean that we laze around in our PJs until noon. We still have to get our work done, and the earlier we begin each day, the earlier we finish, and vice versa.

Maybe I'm more of a stickler than some other homeschoolers. Maybe all those "it must be great" comments do apply to some families. But for me, it's much more satisfying and efficient to get our work done on schedule, every day, staying in the routine, just like "school" is for most people in this country. But that's just what I think is great about homeschooling.

Well I Feel Like A Dork

2012-01-18T12:25:00.000-08:00

If I were blond, I'd say I had a blond moment. Since I'm brunette, I don't know what excuse to use. I wanted to know how many grams of sugar I add to my cup of tea, so I opened the cupboard, turned the sugar bag sideways to see the nutrition label, and read, "One serving = 1/4 cup (30g)." Wow! That seems like a very generous serving size, but then some breakfast cereals have about that many grams of sugar per serving, so maybe one bowl of frosted mini-wheats has one serving of sugar. Hey, it could be. I read on, "One serving = 3g protein." Really? I had no idea sugar had protein in it. Great! "One serving = less than 1g sugar." Huh? Wait a minute... how can a 30g serving of sugar, have less than 1g of sugar in it? Something's fishy here. Oh wait, something's floury here. That bag of sugar... was actually a bag of flour. Oops.

Which is so sad! Because now all of a sudden my sugar serving size dropped from a quarter cup to a mere teaspoon (4g)! And now I have to live with the knowledge that one of my favorite breakfast cereals has seven servings of sugar -- ugh! I didn't want to know! Dumb nutrition labels. Ignorance was bliss. Maybe I should add flour to my tea instead.

What I Didn't Mean To Say Was...

2012-01-12T07:55:00.000-08:00

A little disclaimer on my last post: I didn't mean to come across as condemning wearing make-up. My personal struggle is that when I wear make-up, my vanity level goes up. This is not necessarily true for all ladies! Hope I didn't step on any toes... or lashes.

Vanity, Vanity, All is Vanity!

2012-01-10T18:59:00.000-08:00

I have come to a critical decision point. To buy a new tube of mascara... or not. I know, totally deep, right? The question plagues me, though, shallow as it sounds. Many months back, I tentatively decided to finish off my current tube of mascara and then give it up. Now that my poor aged tube is dry and sticky and barely eeking out any color at all, I'm not sure I'm ready to let my grip on vanity go. And that's what inspired the no-mascara notion in the first place -- my firm grip on vanity.

Both sides of the mental debate are armed with fine points.

On the pro (no more mascara) side:

• The disciples preached against excessive adornment for believers.

• As a wearer, I feel enslaved to it, needing to put it on before going to church or restaurants.

• My personal reasons for wearing eye make-up are to make others and myself think I am pretty, when my real beauty should come from a pure heart.

• And the crux of it, I am more vain (more likely to glance in mirrors more often) when I am wearing make-up.

On the con (run to the store and get another tube now!) side:

• God appreciates extravagant beauty when it comes to worshipping him (consider the design details for the building of the tabernacle).

• A lack of make-up looks unprofessional (not that I have any reason to look professional) and possibly inappropriate (as when eating at a fine dining establishment... oh wait, I don't really do that either).

• I don't want to look "dowdy" or unattractive to Wade (who I can't bring myself to entirely believe when he says he truly doesn't care whether or not I wear make-up).

• I prefer how I look with it on, even if it is annoying to apply.

Part of me feels silly for agonizing over this at all. Seriously, Kerri, it's not a big deal either way! Is it? In 100 years, no one will know or care.

Part of my fear is that giving up mascara may lead me to feel convicted to give up foundation too -- heaven forbid! Or curling my hair, or dressing up or washing my hair or showering or even getting dressed in the morning! See where this is going? It's ain't pretty. And I want pretty!

Maybe I should just run to the drug store now.

Chasing a Sunset

2012-01-05T19:33:00.000-08:00

A glorious sunset this evening called Levi and I far enough out of town far enough to avoid buildings in our pictures, and Levi happily struck poses for me as I toyed with taking silhouettes.

A Holy New year

2012-01-04T12:36:00.000-08:00

I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions, but as the calendar changes I find myself thinking of areas in my life where change would also be welcome.

There are plenty areas where I could make changes -- and perhaps even should: read more and facebook less, eat more nutritious foods and fewer junky ones, exercise, be more diligent about housekeeping and doing the chores I tend to put off. All these things have value, but it's so temporal.

I'm craving a deeper, more lasting change. I'd like to grow in faith. To not depend so heavily on emotions to determine the state of my heart. To love others more than I love myself -- in practice! To walk more closely with God.

But can one resolve to walk with God, and then just do it? Or does that kind of change happen only by the Spirit's moving? Or is it the Spirit who gives the resolve in the first place and then enables a holy change? If I go too far down that path I start messing with predestination, which I consider knowledge too wonderful for me and too lofty for me to attain.

So, with simple faith, I resolve to heed James' instructions to submit to God, resist the devil, draw near to God, cleanse my hands and purify my heart.

And may the Spirit who is already moving continue to move and grant us all a holy new year.

2011-12-28T21:43:00.000-08:00

For those who follow this blog religiously (hi, moms of mine), my apologies on the lack of... much. The family equilibrium changed with the sudden addition of a teenager, and I'm still adjusting to the new normal. As my energies are redirected, blogging has fallen lower on the totem pole of priorities.

I (naively) hadn't expected to feel much of a pinch in adding someone who's mostly self-sufficient to the household. I was wrong. Every day I find myself giving more energy, more time, more love, more grace. I worry more, cook more, delegate more, advise more, chauffeur more, study more, pray more.

I get more hugs. I hear "I love you" more.

I feel an urgency in parenting this young man, more so than with our biological sons. He's already so grown up. We have so little time with him. He has so much still to learn. He plans to go to college in a year and a half. Even if he's with us until then, is that enough time? Enough time to impart wisdom? Enough time to teach faithfulness? Enough time to train him in grace and respect and humility and honesty and love? And yet, I know that on our own, we can teach him none of this. Only God can move hearts to resemble His. We can only model. And pray. And love.

And so we do. We love more. We give more. We pray more and hope more and trust more and by the grace of God we receive more, too. More than we had ever asked for or anticipated!

Feeling Better

2011-12-22T18:55:00.000-08:00

Christmas break has begun! The counter is strewn with school papers that need filing and pencils that need sharpening, but I don't even care (they'll still be there for me tomorrow, right?). I'm on vacation!

The break was ushered in delightfully with a long drive, much of it just me, Nicole C. Mullen and Rebecca St. James singing Christmas songs loudly, and softly. A brief sundown stop at a lonely campground staging a lit nativity dusted in snow was the cherry on top of the sundae-sweet ride.

To those who worried over me after my last post, I'm sorry -- I didn't mean to be dramatic! To those who prayed for me after my last post, thank-you -- they were felt!

Merry Christmas everyone!

A Stirring

2011-12-20T21:10:00.000-08:00

It's 38 degrees and completely dark outside. Wade and the boys are roasting marshmallows as part of a fire-building badge project Isaac is working on for Boy Scouts. I'm staying inside and sipping tea. And one of my precious pink-cheeked striplings just brought me a caramel-golden marshmallow. They're sweeter when they're outside and I'm in (the boys, not the mallows).

A feeling of ennui has been hanging over me today. Maybe I'm looking forward to Christmas vacation and visiting too much to be thrilled by today's mundane to do list. Maybe I've eaten too many cookies (and marshmallows) today. Maybe I need to take a nap. Or a walk.

But this sense isn't just today. Advent is, second to summer, my favorite time of year. I love the lights, the smells, the tastes, the music, the candles, the feeling of it all. And I just haven't felt as Christmassy as usual. I feel watery, like chocolate milk left sitting too long, with all the good stuff settled to the bottom. I wish to be stirred.

Part of me wants to "fix" myself from the outside in -- steep a cup of tea, run a warm bath, light some candles, sit down with a good book, I'll be sure to feel better soon. But the better part of me knows external comforts won't significantly alter my inner drear. I'm craving a swift kick to the heart, a shot of passion, a reckless act of love, the ability to truly bring joy to the world. And here I sit feeling blah.

Well, at least feeling blah is an impetus to write with some semblance of passion.

And yet I know I can't rely just on feelings to keep my heart warm and my outlook bright. My words and actions must show love, even when my head is foggy and my body shlumpish. Perhaps this is an opportunity to love more selflessly, a chance to deny myself a dose of melancholy and love exuberantly in spite of whatever doldrums may hover, not as a fake show of cheeriness, but as a faithful witness to the Light that shines in the darkness, a stirring.

I wish you all a truly joyous Christmas, infused with the joy, hope, peace and love of the One who loves us enough to die for us. May that thought stir us all to praise Him and pass on the secret of the season.

Thankful

2011-11-25T10:04:00.000-08:00

In no particular order, my 2011 thankful list:

- Family: immediate, extended and non-biological
- Friends nearby and far away
- Holland Center Church, which could easily slip right into either of the above categories
- Jesus and eternity, halleluia!
- Modern transportation and communication devices

Comic Relief

2011-10-24T19:27:00.000-07:00

A fellow homeschool mom shared this recently and I felt compelled to pass it on. Oh, the brilliant ideas some people have!

No Calendar Needed

2011-10-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

Bright jars in the pantry.

Bare stalks in the garden.

Silver in the grass.

Gold in the trees.

Geese in the sky.

Nip in the breeze.

Hot mug in my hands.

Feet in warm socks.

Fall in the air.

Bible Study Debate

2011-10-19T09:17:00.000-07:00

There was discussion during our last Bible study on whether or not we should give thanks for everything. The first point was made that all things -- even tragedies -- work together for good to those who love God, so we are able to give thanks for all things, knowing they are for our good. Another point was proposed that we were to give thanks in all things because God's grace is sufficient for us even in disaster, but we aren't necessarily supposed to be thankful for disaster.

As I pondered this at home later on, I reasoned that if I were to take the first viewpoint, that we can be thankful for everything, then sin in the world must be incredibly limited -- God could only allow sin that will be good for us in the long run. But then I realized I am limiting God with that notion. God is so powerful and omniscient that he could use any sin, any disaster, any tragedy and work good from it. For instance: Jesus' death on the cross. The most horrible thing to ever happen was also the best thing to ever happen.

And yet I struggle with this view. Famines in east Africa may turn some hearts to God and inspire generosity in the hearts of others, but so many will fall to hopelessness that it seems the collateral damage could be greater than the good. And even if we're able to give thanks for every problem in our own lives, how can I thank God for the disaster in a non-beleiving friend's life -- disaster that does not work for good for her and perhaps even leads to eternal damnation?

Sigh. I know, God's ways are not my ways and His thoughts are not my own. And for that I can most definitely give thanks, because to have to figure God out would certainly cause me to despair rather than revel in the amazing truth that it doesn't matter what I understand, as long as I trust that God is good.

Nonetheless, I'm interested in hearing anyone else's thoughts on the "thankful for all things" vs "thankful in all things" debate.

Harvest 2011

2011-10-18T18:36:00.000-07:00

October 10 saw the boys and I pulling, digging, husking and picking as we performed a final garden harvest of the fall. In rather random order, here is the pictorial evidence and accompanying descriptions of our endeavor.

One of our largest tomatoes weighed in at barely two pounds.

Having left all the carrots in the ground until after first frost, we have wonderfully sweet carrots this fall! A few were rather wonderfully deformed, but tasty nonetheless.

You know it's fall when the trees drop their... pine needles?

One of our first art projects this school year was etching pumpkins. I like how they turned out!

The heirloom pineapple tomatoes were fabulously beautiful and delicious. Isn't this thing just a work of art? And so yummy. Now my mouth is watering. I'll be right back after I satisfy this craving.

Isaac spent most of the harvest time picking and husking Indian corn.

Levi kept busy pulling carrots.

And 'Lijah dug potatoes. Okay, you may remember way back in planting season I mentioned a new potato growing tactic I was trying this year. It didn't work. At all. This link shows what I tried -- http://lifehacker.com/5202849/grow-100-lbs-of-potatoes-in-4-square-feet. Maybe only certain varieties grow this way?

While most of the pumpkins were picked in September, a few are still working on their color.

This corn certainly has the color change thing down! Perhaps it could give the pumpkin a few pointers.

Still a few flowers around! This was one of the last bloomers in the yard.

The whole shebang! Lots of produce, proud boys, very happy mama!

Yard Bard

2011-09-19T21:59:00.000-07:00

My helpers in the flower beds needed some shade so they "weeded" their heads.

Levi thought these were particularly nice. He'll gobble them up with tomato spice.

The morning glory is up to the deck, just in time for frost, what the... oh wait, I don't say that word.

You can tell the time by how nuttily I write. I think it's time to say goodnight.

A Morning Cuppa

2011-09-19T11:27:00.001-07:00

"Tea contains high levels of antioxidants, some of which are called polyphenols, flavonoids, and catechins, and all of which take on the 'free radicals' in the body and prevent them from harming the healthy cells on board."

Not that I needed the aforementioned reasons to enjoy my daily cup of tea. But I like knowing something I do for pleasure is actually good for me. Just don't tell those scientists about how I doctor it up. They might say it cancels out the good stuff. But I know that any scientifically proven health benefits or detriments of sugared, milky tea are really secondary to the pleasure of holding a hot mug in my hands, sipping a sweet, warm beverage on a cool fall morning and basking in the momentary relaxation of a tea break. That's gotta counteract free radicals like crazy!

In Garden News

2011-09-04T12:11:00.000-07:00

I know it's September, but these pictures really were taken last month -- we truly did harvest a little bit during August!

Three of the five kinds of tomatoes have begun ripening. Those are beef steak, black cherry and yellow pear. We're still waiting for color on the roma and pineapple tomatoes.

Some might accuse Levi of playing with his food. I prefer to say he has a bent for creating pieces of abstract edible art!

In an effort to fit more garden into not more space, I planted things a little closer together than normal. Not a good idea. Those with claustrophobia would not do well in these bean rows. The vines reach out and ensnare unsuspecting pickers with their velcro tendrils, and hoppers pounce on invaders.

The gourds are also invading the lettuce and carrots' space.

And the tomato plants, though caged, are sprawling wildly, leaving no trace of the orderly grid in which they were planted. Though the tomatoes don't show up well here (because they're all still so green!), the bushes are loaded. I'm hoping the weather holds long enough for them to ripen up.

This pumpkin seems to be trying to show up the tomatoes. "Come on, you slow pokes," he taunts. "Do you need lessons in ripening? Look at me and learn -- this is how you blush!"

And in non-edible news, my two show-stoppers right now are the blanketflower...

... and the coneflower. Delightful!

Blame it on Hormones

2011-09-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

Every so often (with regularity that rivals that of the moon) I have a couple days of particularly passionate and convicting devotional times. During these phases I praise God more adoringly, search my heart more deeply, bemoan my sinfulness more loathfully and find renewed vigor for pursuing holiness.

However, as much as I enjoy a really inspired time of worship with my Lord, I sometimes wonder whether it's right for me to take advantage of these hormonally induced feelings or if I should try to temper them, realizing that I can very easily become carried away by them.

I find myself questioning my motives for homeschooling my kids, trying to adopt, volunteering, wearing make-up to church and even blogging. And sometimes I become convicted about these issues, but then, after the "feeling" has passed, I wonder if it was an authentic conviction or just an emotional fancy. Are decisions made on a hormone high legitimate and binding?

So here I am, at the end of my little rant, without a nice, tidy conclusion. This time of month I don't have nice tidy conclusions, only questions and uncertainties. Ugh. What an ending. Comments welcome.

Patriotic Art

2011-08-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

We were supposed to be camping on Friday, but since we weren't, I felt like we should do some school work, but I just didn't have the heart to say, "Hey boys, guess what, since we're not camping right now, we get to do school instead! Yea!"

So we did PE: we biked the long, long route to the park (The regular route is straight down Main Street and across the train tracks at the pedestrian crossing. The long is route is down the highway to the railroad crossing on the west end of town. The long, long route is the other direction to the crossing on the east end of town).

And we did science: the boys love our Zoology 3: Land Animals of the Sixth Day textbook so much that's it's not even like "doing school."

And we did art: Voila!

Our basement wall now sports this very patriotic mural.

It's fun, it's one-of-a-kind, it's huge, and it's someday going to be covered up when (if) we ever finish the basement.

As I stood back and admired the boys' work of art, it occurred to me that the red we used is really quite a bit deeper than normal flag red, but hey, it's what we had on hand (no pun intended). It's actually more crimson than red. It would make a perfect "blood" red, should we ever want to paint something bloody.

And the way it drips down the wall is very, um, dramatic. One without such a pure and untainted mind might think it looks like a thousand bloody handprints covering the wall. Not that I would ever think that about my kiddo's art work.

Okay, so maybe the thought would cross my mind. And maybe, just for a minute the whole thing might look really creepy. And maybe I'd feel the need to touch it up a little by painting over the places where red lines ran down the white handprints, even though modifying one's children's artwork is expressly prohibited in the Good Mother's Handbook.

But afterwards, when it no longer looks creepy, such a mother probably would feel a lot better about having it in her basement. And after all, she probably just wanted to have a hand in it herself! (pun very much intended)

No, the handprint in the last picture is not my own. It's E's. Ain't it cute?

PS - the stripes are supposed to be "blood red," so says Woodrow Wilson.

"When I think of the flag.... I see alternate strips of parchment upon which are written the rights of liberty and justice, and stripes of blood to vindicate those rights, and then, in the corner, a prediction of the blue serene into which every nation may swim which stands for these great things."

Legs of Steel

2011-08-14T14:03:00.000-07:00

Levi held this position for eight minutes before his calves gave out. Ouch!

What's he doing now? Timing how long he can hang from the balcony.

That's Levi.

Warring Fancies

2011-08-08T11:35:00.000-07:00

I love the idea of living simply, frugally and healthfully. But as I've wrestled with incorporating more of these aspirations into my home, I've come to realize they are, at least to some degree, mutually exclusive. Food is one area where the battle is particularly fierce. Here is a an excerpt of a conversation between warring fancies in my mind.

Simplicity: There's enough busyness in your life, Kerri, why don't you just buy some nice, easy, convenient foods for this week's dinners and simplify your life.

Frugality: No way! You know those pre-cut carrots cost twice what the whole ones do!

Healthfulness: You know, you really should plant your own carrots. Not only is it more economical, you can avoid all those nasty chemicals and live more healthily.

Frugality: Amen! Seeds are cheap!

Healthfulness: And while we're talking about good health, you should really buy all organic fruits and vegetables, whole wheat grains, cereals and breads, and low-fat low-sodium snacks.

Frugality: Whoa, just a minute now. Don't get carried away. Have you seen the sticker difference between the organically grown bananas and the regulars?

Healthfulness: There is no cost too great for the health of your family!

Simplicity: Just get what you like and can prepare easily. There is no cost too great for having more time to spend with your family by keeping meals quick and easy!

Frugality: As long as they are quick and easy and inexpensive! Because when you get your next credit card bill you'll know exactly the cost of all those convenience foods!

Healthfulness: What is convenience if you're not healthy enough to enjoy it? Buy the health food!

Frugality: No, grow the health food if you must have it! Ten bucks on seeds packets and you'll eat all summer long!

Simplicity: So I can spend all my long and healthy life slaving away in the garden and in the kitchen?

Alas, the warring factions cannot all be appeased. However, those who know me well know that simplicity lost the battle long ago, at least in the gardening arena. It exerts its sway in other areas, sort of. Okay, not really, but I like the idea of simplicity, so maybe someday it will have influence. Healthfulness and frugality can both win in the summer when we dine well out of the garden, but come the first frost of fall, it'll back to mentally grappling over groceries.

The Traveling Scrapbook

2011-08-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

A couple years ago I read through the complete Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series and loved it (except for book four, they grew up too much at the end). The reading generated a severe case of nostalgia which lead to me send sentimental e-mails to several of my closest friends. And Becky, who is brilliant, by the way, came up with the idea of creating a traveling scrapbook. See, I told you she's a bright one. It was decided that six of us should share and contribute to the book, and thus The Traveling Scrapbook was born in the summer of 2009.

Becky picked up the actual book, collected old pictures and put together a "back when" section. Then she added her own "now" page and passed the book on to me.

The idea is to add a "now" page every time each of us get the book, and any older photos we may want to mix in. There are also pages for journaling and writing notes. Each of our weddings has a page, too.

It takes about a year to make a full round, and it's a treat to see what's been added since the last visit.

It has its own traveling box, though its getting a little travel-torn.

It's getting pretty full at this point -- over 40 pages, and it has traveled over 12,000 miles bouncing between Washington, North Dakota, Illinois, New Mexico and Montana.

And I'm the lucky one currently in possession of this capsule of happiness and reminiscence. Yea! It makes me happy.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

2011-07-31T09:43:00.000-07:00

I'm not the only one who loves this fabulously warm weather we've been having. The garden is lovin' it, too! (Oh, and the weeds, the weeds, have been lovin' it, too) After a very slow start this spring, everything is finally looking awesome! (Even the weeds)

The beans are climbing voraciously (I'm hoping to see blossoms before too long).

The corn, while still shorter than it should be, has grown exponentially during the past two weeks, and a couple of the tallest plants are beginning to tassel.

I had to thin the carrots (sad!) but at least we got to enjoy a handful of very tender baby carrots (happy!). We've been enjoying lettuce for several weeks.

The greenhouse-bought tomato plants are fruiting... and so are some of the plants I started at home! The dozen I started from seed were so small and scrawny when it was time to move them to the garden that I went ahead and bought four more plants from the local greenhouse, just to make sure we get some toms even if we do get an early frost. I'm now optimistic about getting fruit from many of the 16 tomato plants! I'm hoping to can a lot of sauce :)

Let's see, the pumpkins have spilled from their bed, over the retaining wall and are trying to creep across the alley. The gourds aren't quite there yet, but are filling in nicely.

The potatoes, which are planted in a "box" this year (more about this experiment in another post) are lush and blooming. (Those tall things in the background are volunteer hollyhocks from where I dumped last year's stalks. I love volunteers!)

The one volunteer sunflower I let stay is huge and happy. Not as tall as usual (yet), but massive in girth. I'm excited to see the blossom!

And the strawberries, after an onslaught of tiny berries in late June/early July, are pulling out of their July lull and beginning their all-the-way-until-really-hard-frost run of much more decently sized berries.

For the first time since we planted these babies we've gotten more than 12 berries! The bushes are loaded and we're eagerly awaiting full ripening!

Garden space was at a premium this year, and yet this enormous wild thing has found its way into my heart and comes back year after year in the vegetable garden where it takes a rather large bite out of the row real estate. Oh well. Hollyhocks make me happy.

All this makes me very, very happy. If I could break out in song in a blog post, I would.

Good Reads

2011-07-28T07:52:00.000-07:00

I don't read a lot of nonfiction (unless you count all the textbooks we go through in the course of a school year), but the last two books I read were "Miracle at Tenwek" on the life and ministry of Dr. Ernie Steury, a missionary doctor in Kenya, and "In His Feathers," the journals and letters of Sharon Bomgaars as she walks the road of ovarian cancer.

"Tenwek" was about a life well lived; "Feathers" about a death well met. Despite the books' very different foci (yes, foci is the plural of focus, I checked), each character inspired me with their strong and sure faith, touched me with their struggles, clinched my sympathy with their wrestlings between desire and contentment, and brought me to tears with their deaths. (It's awkward to cry at the pool during swimming lessons -- I should learn to bring lighter books to read while the boys swim!)

While reading "Miracle at Tenwek," I was blown away by the impact of one man fully committed to God and doing his will. The Tenwek mission hospital's motto is "We treat, Jesus heals," and Dr. Steury made certain that each patient who came into the hospital heard the gospel message, even when the beds were overflowing and over half the patients were sleeping on the floor. It made me think I live far too comfortably.

"In His Feathers" I found particularly riveting, perhaps because I know Mrs. Bomgaar's brother, and brief parts of her story were set in areas very familiar to me, but mostly because of her heart's cry. For years, though healthy, she prayed God would allow her to live to see her children grown, so when she was diagnosed with "a tiger of a cancer" in her 40s, she wavered between longing for more life and feeling God had already given her so much time.

At one point she described her feelings in this way (if she hadn't written this over 10 years ago I might have thought she was eavesdropping during my devotional time!):

"I have less control, much less control over my life than I thought I did. That realization is a sort of acquiescence -- a wimpy acquiescence, as if I'm saying, 'Oh God, I hate to let you control things because I'm afraid you will mess them up; but since you are in the driver's seat, I'll shut my eyes and hang on and hope for the best.' That's NOT a full-blown trust. A real trust says, 'God, you are good and what you do will be the best for my children whom you love more than I do.' That is the kind of trust I need!"

"Tenwek" inspired me to live more fully devoted to God, no matter the struggles around me, and "Feathers" inspires me pray that I will be gracious and grateful in my death, no matter its circumstances.

Now on to something that I hope won't make me cry!

The Tempest

2011-07-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

They rolled into town mid-afternoon, dressed in black and ominous. The locals cast furtive glances their way. Most headed for cover. Everyone knew what was coming.

For a couple hours all was calm, but the stifling heat that lay over the town like an itchy blanket took its toll. A flash and a bang and thunder rolled like gunfire through the streets. Hoofbeats of rain pounded the ground raising a steamy mist off the overheated streets.

The tempest ranted and raged and blustered, but the thunderheads could not sustain their barrage indefinitely. Ammunition soon ran dry, and the blustersome force rolled grumbling out of town. A few parting shots rang out as their dark backsides disappeared over the horizon. The storm moved on to terrorize another town.

Legoware

2011-07-19T12:28:00.001-07:00

The boys are developing a new line of kitchenware.

In case of breakage it can be rebuilt easily.

It comes in a variety of colors.

And I've been given a complimentary set!

Decent Exposure

2011-07-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a few inches of blog space today to address an issue of concern to myself and other vain gardeners (if you have overcome vanity, as I obviously have not, this does not apply to you). Today's post has nothing to do with weeds, or even desirable plants, nor yard decor or water elements. No, today's topic is that of obtaining the perfect tan.

No amount of spf 50 sunscreen can completely prevent an avid gardener from developing a sunkissed hue, and honestly, would we want it to? A tan is one of those beautiful benefits of tending a garden.

However, one of must exercise discernment in acquiring a lovely tan while gardening. One might argue that clothing that exposes the most skin would be most conducive to procuring the most color. However, anyone with a modicum of modesty must realize that bending, squatting and kneeling -- positions oft struck during planting, weeding and raking -- are not suitable for the scantily clad. Unless, of course, one gardens in a very private or secluded area. In which case one would have no need for clothes at all while working in the yard and could enjoy gardening just as Adam and Eve did in their pre-fall paradise. Sadly that is not my situation.

Anyway, back to the dilemma of maximizing skin exposure to the sun while minimizing skin exposure to the neighbors. This is an art I am still attempting to master, but here are my suggestions:

• Time your yard work according to your neighbors' work schedules, so that when you're baring skin in the direction of their windows, they are not at home peeping through them.
• Put flowers in your hair to camouflage yourself.
• If you have an elderly neighbor whose eyesight is failing, work on that side of your house when the neighbors on the other side are home.
• Lay low in the rows of the vegetable garden (remember to work up one row and down the next to even toast each side of your body).
• Fence or hedge in your entire yard.
• Put a sign in your front yard saying "Look! A plane!"
• Or, and here is my personal ploy of choice, become that obnoxious person who, whenever spotted, causes others to immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction without so much as a nod, howdy or second glance. Warning: this action can have serious repercussions on your social life, but who really needs a social life when you've got a great garden and a fabulous tan?

Light Show

2011-06-30T21:58:00.000-07:00

It's been a beautiful after-dark competition here tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Up first were the locals putting on a delightful pre-Fourth of July show. The patters, colors and sounds were delightfully arrayed across the moonless backdrop. However the clear winner here tonight was the second contestant, the Maker of the universe. His astronomical and entirely unpredictable brilliant bolts of beauty joined heaven and earth while breathtakingly illuminating the rumbling underbelly of the clouds. Tune in again Saturday for what looks to be another dazzling display of this evening's -- and this lifetime's -- light show master.

This is summer. This is bliss.

2011-06-29T21:46:00.000-07:00

The sun almost reached the 100 degree mark in its valiant shining efforts today. Hot, bright, UVA-ray filled happiness fell from the sky in waves of torrid sultriness. And our family spent this glorious day sweating on a blanket at the ball field. Elijah played tee-ball at noon; Isaac, Levi and Luke played coach pitch at 2:30. (We made an ice cream run between games)

Wade sweltered. The boys sizzled. I swooned.

Wade baked. The boys boiled. I basked.

Wade groaned. The boys griped. I grinned.

Okay, I think you get the point. I love summer!

It's days like this that infuse me with the inner warmth I need to keep from freezing solid six months from now when it's 130 degrees colder than it was today. Like animals that stockpile food for the winter or creatures that build up stores of blubber to survive arctic temperatures, I hoard sunshine and heat now to carry me through to another summer.

And I do it with gladness! Give me some sunscreen, a hat and a garden hose and I will revel in the superheated outdoors all day long. Add in a couple glasses of iced tea and I'll do it with a cheesy grin on my face! My body will become one with the heat in such a way, that when I step back into our air-conditioned 75-degree house, I'll need a hoodie to keep warm.

This is summer. This is bliss. Let the thermometer soar.

PS - The snow shovel is still out. If I put it away, I know it will promptly snow. I'm leaving it in plain sight to guarantee a snow-less summer.

Gardener in June

2011-06-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

With apologies to Marylin Singer, author of Turtle in July --

Hot
Hot sun
Hot sun bakes
Burning broiling
Boiling
But I kneel
Sunscreen shield
Brimmed cap
No sap
Gardener in June

Garden Variety

2011-06-21T20:28:00.000-07:00

Child
Variety: Son (filius)

Type: Perennial
Zones: All
Sun/Shade: Full or part sun
Water Needs: Regular light watering and occasional heavy dousings

Thrives in sand, clay, mud and just regular dirt too. Water frequently and provide adequate fertilizer.

Typically reaches five-and-a half to six-and-a-half feet in 14 to 18 years. Longevity can reach 100 years in some cases. Needs regular light pruning.

Remarkably hardy, but does best when treated tenderly.

Summer at Last!

2011-06-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

Levi has been waiting anxiously for the first summer day to break 80 degrees.

Eighty degrees is the official sprinkler temp.

This is a great game called "Try to get the bucket over the sprinkler without getting wet."

This is a not so great game called "Try to get mom wet while she's holding the camera."

And since my lilacs aren't quite blooming yet (I can almost smell them), I'll bask in the summer aroma of sunscreen. I love that smell.

Deliciousness: Chicken Tortilla Soup

2011-05-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

Wade is not a man of daring cuisine. He's not a man of spices, onions or vegetables. He's not a man who gets excited when I try new recipes.

However, he loves the spicy chicken tortilla soup at the Ground Round. This boggles my mind. And, even more mind-boggling, he asked me to try to find a recipe like that one.

So I did. It has kick. It has chunks of tomatoes. It has chilies. Did I mention it has kick and large chunks of vegetable? It does.

And he loves it! We've had it twice now, and both times he scooped up seconds. I am absolutely delighted, because I also find this soup delicious. None of the boys care for it, but after politely eating the small amount we require, they can be excused to make themselves sandwiches, leaving more for Wade and I!

So here's the recipe as I make it (notes about the original are at the end).

Chicken Tortilla Soup

2 14.5-oz cans chicken broth
(or about 4 cups of water + four t chicken bouillon)
1 10-oz can diced tomatoes with green chilies (we use mild)
1 14.5-oz can diced tomatoes
1 16-oz can refried beans
1/2 c corn (fresh, frozen or canned)
1 1/2 c cooked chicken breast, chopped or shredded
1/4 c masa (corn flour, find it in the mexican section)
tortilla chips
grated cheese
sour cream

Dump chicken broth, both cans of tomatoes, refried beans and corn in a medium pot. Stir together and bring to a boil. Mix masa with 1/2 c water, and add to pot, along with chicken. Simmer for 5 minutes. When serving, top with cheese, crushed tortilla chips, and sour cream if desired.

Notes: The original recipe called for two cans of tomatoes with chilies, but we're not that daring, so I use one can with chilies and one without. If you love spiciness, use both cans with chilies! The original also called for adding 2 t fresh chopped cilantro before serving, but cilantro is outrageously priced here, and I didn't think Wade would like it, so I omitted it (although I think it sounds wonderful!). Also, the original did not call for masa, but I love what it does for chili, and I thought its effect on this soup would also be delightful, and it is.

Hope you enjoy this as much as we have!

Said the Toothpick

2011-05-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

"Aren't you cold?" I asked Levi as he ran around outside in his shorts and sandals, while I snugged my coat a bit tighter around me.

"No. I think it's because of all my blubber."

School Year in Review

2011-05-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

The 21 Balloons, a fictional account of a man who, while attempting to live in his hot-air balloon for one year, crash landed on the Island of Karkatoa barely pre-eruption and discovered a fantastic treasure of people and jewels, was the boys' hands-down favorite book of our 2010-2011 school year.

On Friday I got out all the books we read, studied and worked from this year and asked the boys to tell me their favorite and least favorite parts of the school year. Besides The 21 Balloons, which I read aloud to them, they also gave high ratings to:
• Zoology 2: Swimming Creatures of the Fifth Day -- I loved this science book also! Amazing facts, vivid pictures, fun experiments and hands-on activities all centered around the wonderful water world that God made.

• Ginger Pye -- another read-aloud, though I was somewhat surprised they recalled this as a highlight. While I enjoyed the story, there were a lot of tangents that didn't really apply to the plot, and sometimes the action stopped for quite awhile for these tangents.

• And The Word Came with Power -- this true story about a Bible translator living in the Philippines was also one of my favorites. Although I wondered whether the power and activity of the spirits would be a bit intense for the boys, they were captivated through and through.

Isaac also listed The Aesop for Children as one of his favorites. Luke and Isaac gave points to both of our history texts. And miracle of miracles, our struggling reader Levi said he liked almost all of our readers, both the independent reading and read-aloud books!

Of course there were items on their "did not like at all" lists too, but overall I feel like this was a good school year. We learned, we laughed, we sang, we read, we prayed.

Our books for next year have been arriving, and they make me all excited for next fall already, but for now, I'm going to revel in a school year completed and enjoy the break of summer!

Commencement Exercises

2011-05-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

The school year ended with a clatter -- the clatter of books hitting walls, steps and floor, that is. Our quirky end-of-school observance stems from a scenario from my past in which I, in a fit of frustration, chucked my math book down the stairs. It was hugely satisfying.

One day when Isaac was feeling particularly fed up with school, I told him the story of my throwing the book, and I told him that at the end of the school year, when his workbooks were completed, he, too, could choose one volume to throw down the stairway -- but he had to do better than me, because he had to wait until the end of the school year. I think that this knowledge, the anticipation of debasing a source of aggravation, has encouraged him through the more mundane and obnoxious parts of the school year.

The day came and each boy was allowed to choose one book (a workbook -- NOT a textbook!) to hurl down the stairs with as much gusto as they could muster to celebrate their graduations. Levi and Luke chose their math books (children after my own heart), while Isaac choose his grammar workbook.

Thus concluded the 2010-2011 school year and the commencement of summer vacation.

A Flower of Rarest Bloom

2011-05-17T18:33:00.000-07:00

In the ten years since I received a Dieffenbachia maculata, I have never once seen my original plant nor any of its offspring bloom... until now. I wish I knew what inspired this particular plant to do what neither it nor its ancestors before it have done (at least not in this home). Maybe it wanted attention? Maybe the celestial soils aligned properly? Maybe it thinks it's dying? Maybe I'll never know. But I hope I don't have to wait ten years to see this again!

An Ode to Spring in North Dakota

2011-05-17T10:42:00.000-07:00

No children are at the park today.
I think they all have blown away.
And yet the swing goes up and down,
And voices whistle all around.
Breezes caper here today.
Clouds watch over the wind at play.

Confession Time

2011-05-10T17:07:00.000-07:00

My husband found me out this week. He discovered a gallon of apple cider vinegar under the bathroom sink and asked, "What is this?"

So I came clean. He already knew about part of my sordid hair care routine, but I fessed up completely and tried not to let his skeptically arched eyebrows deter me from disclosing the truth.

And this is the truth.

Not only have I been washing my hair with a baking soda and water mixture for the past half a year, I've also been conditioning with an apple cider vinegar and water solution for about a month.

I confess. When it comes to my hair, I've become one of those crazy all-natural anti-shampoo hippy people.

But I'm really not crazy!

The baking soda takes away the scalp itchies that have plagued me for years, and it reduces my frizziness significantly! And the apple cider vinegar makes my hair shiny and soft! And they're both cheaper than traditional shampoo and conditioner! How am I supposed to resist that kind of treatment?

Okay, I know you're looking at me like I'm a nut job and might just belong in a mental care facility, but before you lock me up, let me give you the details, so that someday when the truth comes out for all the world to know, there will be record that I was not completely off my rocker way back in the spring of 2011.

I begin by preparing my two solutions:
- one quarter cup of baking soda with one cup of water in a bottle with a squirt top, like a regular drinking water bottle (I've tried various concentrations of this mixture. Too little baking soda doesn't eliminate the scalp itchies; too much baking soda dries out my hair)
- one tablespoon of apple cider vinegar in one cup of water

I take both mixtures into the shower with me. Once wet, I shake the baking soda mixture well, squirt it all over my head and rub it in vigorously. I don't worry about getting it all down the length of my hair; I just focus on getting the scalp clean. Rinse well.

Next I drizzle the vinegar mixture over my head and all down the length of my hair until all the hair is coated. I let it sit less than a minute and rinse it out well. At this point it already it feels smooth.

And that's it.

Go ahead and take me away if you must. But I feel better just getting that off my chest. Even if you are all looking at me oddly now.

Meet Dug

2011-05-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

We're putting in a new basement window. The hole is dug.

The boys like Dug.

Dug is lots of fun to play with.

At least until someone falls in, whacks their head on the concrete wall of the house and gets a doozy of a goose egg.

Oh well, Dug was fun.

A Stroke of Genius (if I do say so myself)

2011-04-30T10:16:00.000-07:00

A week ago, in an effort to increase safety, sanitation and sanity when entering my sons' bedrooms, I implemented daily "floor inspections," for which the bedroom floors must be clear of books, blankets, clothes, toys and all the other odds and ends that mysteriously make their way upstairs (and piling everything up on the beds does not count!).

This initiative appeared good in theory -- navigable bedrooms are much more pleasant, safe and non-malodorous than those in which the floor is impassable. But as I considered enacting it, I realized that in practice, this was a) going to make more work for me, since I'd inevitably be the one to police the inspections; and b) yet one more opportunity for mommy to come across as a bad guy on a daily basis.

Cue animated light bulb over my head.

I was not going to perform the inspections -- they were! Oh no, no one was going to be inspecting their own rooms, no, no, no, no. The two boys of each bedroom would inspect the bedroom of the other boys, letting them know whether or not the tidying was up to snuff.

And so, for the past week, Levi and Luke have diligently (if not excitedly) let Isaac and Elijah know just exactly what needs improving in their bedroom, while Isaac and Elijah very thoroughly inspect Luke and Levi's room for stray socks, papers shoved under the beds, and other miniscule litterings.

The rooms look great, the boys are shouldering responsibility, and mommy is happy.

Now if I could just come up with a plan for keeping my own bedroom floor so uncluttered.

Tae (Kwon Do - Kung) Foo

2011-04-25T20:47:00.001-07:00

One of Isaac's vocabulary words this week is typhoon.

"Is that like Tae Kwon Do and Kung Foo?" he asked before I gave him the definition.

The weather's latest moves on mankind! Watch out, here comes Ty-Phoon!

Unrequited Love

2011-04-19T18:16:00.000-07:00

I love spring. I love flowers and green grass. I love warm sunshine and short sleeves. I love getting my hands in the dirt. I even love pulling weeds. I love hanging the laundry on the clothesline. I love walking to the grocery store with my little red wagon. I love doing all my errands on foot or two wheels. I love the smell of sunscreen. I love the lack of snow.

And, I love finding new gardening gloves in my favorite style and size after not being able to find them anywhere all last year (there were only two pairs left on the rack -- I bought them both).

I loved these gloves dearly. We bonded. They gave me the gift of a gardeners tan. But it's time for them to go to the big garden in the sky where fingers will never wear through and dirt will never stick.

I love the little inside greenhouse Wade built for my seed starts!

And I love the happy little plants that are staying warm and moist in the little inside greenhouse that Wade built.

But I don't love that this is the view from my dining room.

Ahh, spring, my love is unrequited.

Deep Thoughts

2011-04-18T18:15:00.001-07:00

Overheard coming from the Lego pile...

Levi: There was more magic in the old days, like in the days of Noah.

Isaac: It wasn't magic. It was miracles.

Levi: But it was like magic.

Luke: Miracles are like a sort of magic.

Manly Men with Dishpan Hands

2011-04-03T12:48:00.000-07:00

While I'm thankful to have our dishwasher working again, I'll miss the sight of my little men, shirts ripped from their bodies, muscles rippling, all ready to... wash dishes!

The Disappearing Eraser Trick

2011-03-30T09:01:00.000-07:00

I've started charging the boys ten cents for each eraser I see them destroy. When I'm vigilant, I make pretty good money.

Nice Shirt

2011-03-29T20:13:00.000-07:00

Seriously, can somebody tell me just when this boy started wearing shirts that fit me? Oh, little one, you grow much too quickly!

Seeing Green

2011-03-17T19:06:00.001-07:00

No pinches for this crew! Happy St. Patty's Day!

In Defiance of Winter

2011-03-04T20:47:00.001-08:00

After yet another another week of sub-zero temperatures and more snow in the forecast, I decided a little seed therapy was in order. Thankfully Runnings already has their seeds in stock, so I didn't have to go far. Besides this beautifully springy bouquet of seeds, I also picked up corn and bean seeds and Jiffy Pots. In the past I've made my own seed starting pots out of old newspaper, but I was feeling reckless and wild and the pots were remarkably inexpensive, so I just went for it (besides, I had a gift certificate -- I'm supposed to splurge).

Of course there will be more gardening purchases once the greenhouses are set up, and I did have to make one on-line order for heirloom tomato seeds, since ya jest cain't get them kinda thangs out here in the boondocks. I've never grown heirloom tomatoes, but I'm very excited to try them out!

Here are the varieties I chose... and boy was it hard to narrow it down to these three!

Pineapple Tomato - Heirloom

Yellow Pear Tomato - Certified Organic Heirloom

Black Cherry Tomato

(above images courtesy of Sweet Corn Organic Nursery which by the way, had free shipping on these items -- yea!)

So now when the thermometer plunges into the single digits and below, which it's doing every night yet, I'll look at my bouquet of seed packages and smile... and sip hot chocolate.

The Sunday Morning Horror Show

2011-03-03T15:05:00.000-08:00

I should know better than to try crazy new ideas on Saturday nights... when I'm going to have to deal with the consequences of them on Sunday morning when we're already going to be a hurry.

This time it was a new conditioning trick a lady at the salon suggested: mayonnaise as conditioner.

I already love baking soda as shampoo (more on that some other time... maybe), so why not another kitchen staple as conditioner?

Usually I google these bright ideas before trying them, just to make sure I've got the details right, but this time I just took the gal's word for it, showered as usual, slathered my head up with a generous handful of mayo, rinsed about 10 minutes later, then shortly went to bed.

If I had googled this procedure, I would have known that it only takes about 1 teaspoon of mayo, and you have to wash -- not just rinse -- it out afterwards.

Sunday morning I woke up with hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in a month! It felt like it had been doused with vegetable oil! The water had dried, but oil from the mayo was still very much in my hair (and on my pillow).

A little background on Sunday mornings. Our crew, most of whom don't wake up until after 7:30 a.m., has to be woken, fed, dressed and in the van before 7:30 a.m. to make it to church on time. It's not our prettiest morning, and this one in particular was quite possibly my ugliest. And suddenly mommy needs a shower she didn't wake up early enough for!

And not only did I have to shower, but I was pretty sure that to get the oiliness out I had to use real shampoo, which I don't like using (like I said previously, more on that another time).

Ugh. It was an ordeal. But, and here's the cool thing, this overnight leave-in conditioner stunt left my hair so incredibly smooth and shiney, despite having used shampoo! So there was an upside.

So, if you don't mind using shampoo and are looking for a conditioning boost, I would recommend spending a night with mayo in your hair. I may just try it again sometime, but not on a Saturday night!

Good Eats Coming Up!

2011-02-25T17:46:00.000-08:00

The local homeschool group is having a potluck tomorrow! Oh, it's a sledding party too, but for me, the potluck is the main event. I LOVE potlucks! I delight in getting to eat all sorts of wonderful things that I can't make for dinner at home because my family would leave me sitting alone at the table while they head down to the Cornerstone Café.

Potlucks also give me the opportunity to fix whatever dish my heart desires, even if it does have vegetables in it and go crunch; for instance a real salad with lettuce or cabbage and no jello (don't get me wrong, I love jello salads, but I can have those at home where they always goes over well) or a dessert with peanut butter in it which I can't get away with at home thanks to my crazy stud muffin who doesn't dig peanut butter unless it's on bread.

However, there is one dilemma: sometimes there is nothing my boys (or husband) care to eat at a potluck. Their spirits of adventure simply wither away in the presence of unfamiliar (or green) foods. They beg, "Mom, can you please always bring something we like?"

So my personal compromise is this: bring a main dish my whole family enjoys, and bring a salad or dessert of my choice. My quandary this time is which "dish of choice" to bring. I'm torn between cabbage and ramen salad and peanut butter balls. Oh the delicious dilemmas of potlucking!

From the Mouth of a Big Boy

2011-02-19T11:17:00.000-08:00

I love that Elijah is learning to read.

I do not love that in learning to read he is also learning proper pronunciation.

He says, "I will put dis sell on da self."

But when he reads, he says, "I will put this shell on the shelf."

I didn't even realize he never says "sh" and always says "da" and "dis" until we got to those words and sounds in his phonics book, and he pronounced them correctly. It sounded so weird coming from his mouth. It sounded much too grown up for someone who forever and always must stay a little boy, by edict of his mother.

At this point he only says "the" and "this" and "shell" when reading, but I know it won't be long before he talks this way all the time. Sigh. First it's Isaac's smell, now it's 'Lijah's speech. They really do keep right on growing up, no matter how much I wish they'd stay this age forever.

Much Too Young to Smell This Old

2011-02-17T14:32:00.001-08:00

Isaac, age nine, recently had to begin wearing deodorant. Yes, had to. He doesn't like that he has to wear it, and I rue the fact that he's old enough to necessitate it. But the thing that really bothers me about it? The smell. (I know, it's better than the previous smell, but...)

He smells like 15, like long legs and clumsy arms, like cars and girls, like not wanting to hang out with Dad and Mom. He smells like someone I once would have considered aromatically hot (and not in a prespirey way). He's much to young to smell this grown up!

Why don't they make little boy deodorant that smells like baby powder? I'd be so much more comfortable with that.

Beyond Being Polite

2011-02-15T11:23:00.000-08:00

The boys (and I) have been learning about the Middle Ages, including castles, knights and other exciting medieval stuff. I was particularly fascinated to learn how a man went about becoming a knight. In a nutshell, when a noble boy reached age 21, if he had been a good squire and learned his lessons, he had the opportunity to become a knight.

Special preparations were made for the big day when he would be dubbed, including taking a bath (a pretty rare occurrence in those times) and spending the previous night at church praying. He would then take a vow to be brave and good, to fight for the Christian religion, to protect the weak, and to honor women.

Reading this, I was inspired. Using good manners is a big deal at our house, but I dream of our sons going so far beyond merely being polite to being truly chivalrous, making these vows the knights took into a way of life. So of course my mind starts racing to come up with ways to encourage our sons to live like this and act like this, but eventually Truth catches up with me and I realize that training their bodies and their habits will avail them nought if that is all the deeper I go. (Yes, nought. What can I say. The Middle Ages are rubbing off on me.)

If they have the manners, bravery and nobility of knights, but have not love, they are nothing.

So we're back to the basics. Love the Lord you God with all your heart, mind and strength, and love your neighbor (or your brother) as yourself. Yes, Wade and I still have to teach and model for them specific ways to love others (including opening doors for ladies), but chivalry should be a result of the love of Jesus inside them, not an end in itself.

Realizing this makes everything so much simpler and more complicated all at once. Can't we just have them take a bath and get dubbed?

Monkey Boy

2011-02-10T11:24:00.000-08:00

And I wonder why there are footprints on my ceiling. Do you think maybe he's related to his Uncle Kenner? They both like to defy gravity.

Punny Boy

2011-02-09T20:53:00.000-08:00

The boys are learning about the Middle Ages in history (Yup, world history in first and third grades. We're homeschoolers. We're allowed to be weird. Sometimes I think we're expected to be weird!). The past few days we've learned about castles (the book you brought last week was quite timely, Mom!), and today we read about what it was like growing up in a castle as a son of a lord.

When a young man reached age seven, he became a page, and his duty was to wait on the ladies of the castle.

When he reached 14, he became a squire, and his duty was to wait on the men of the castle.

At age 21, if he was good and noble, he could be come a knight.

So at the end of the lesson, Lukey pipes up, "So if some boys about my age who all lived in castles started a club, would it be called a book?"

That kid just kills me :)

All Over the Map

2011-01-25T09:10:00.000-08:00

As the boys were setting up their toy soldiers for battle, they first identified various mountains their forces could seek refuge in.

"This one is Mount Everest."

"I though that was was Mount Vesuvius."

"How about Kilimanjaro?"

"Okay, and this one over here can be Mount St. Helens."

I guess they have been getting something out those geography/history lessons!

Adoption Non-News and My Out-of-Whack Vision

2011-01-24T09:39:00.000-08:00

Last fall, Wade and I became aware of a seven-year-old boy who was possibly going to become available for adoption. At that point his arrangements weren't totally cleared, and so we would have to wait to learn the nitty gritty details of his life. And so we waited.

Then last week, all in the course of a few days, we learned he was officially available for adoption ("Are you still interested in learning more about him?" "Yes!"), found out a family would be chosen for him the next day ("Are you seriously interested in being considered for his forever family?" "Yes!"), then were told that another family had been chosen for him. It was a brief but intense emotional roller coaster ride!

We were disappointed, but not heartbroken, when we found out that we wouldn't get the chance to meet this young man and possibly welcome him into our family. We recognized that this simply wasn't God's plan for our lives, and blessed be the Lord that His will was done and not ours.

One thing does bother me quite a lot about the whole situation though. All along the way, there were details -- so many details! -- regarding how we found out about him, his hobbies and interests, his educational needs, his mental/emotional health, his relationship with his biological family, his very (Biblical) name, that just screamed "THIS IS A PERFECT FIT!" I couldn't help but think that this must be a "God thing."

And apparently I was wrong. What I thought was God, was not. I translated "THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT!" into "THIS MUST BE GOD'S WILL!"

And I wonder how many other details and situations in my life I'm reading wrongly. In striving to recognize God in every part of my life, am I imagining Him working in ways that He is not? And shouldn't I be able to recognize the One I claim to love and serve above all others? How can I become more attuned to His will and less focused on what looks good from my (limited, human, imperfect) perception?

"If anyone lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives freely to all." ~ James 1. Dear Lord, please give me wisdom. I am lacking!

Cooking Lessons

2011-01-19T16:31:00.001-08:00

Once again "The Testosterhome Lady" has summed up my thoughts so nicely, that I think I'll just let her do the writing for me. In the week that I resumed the sadly fallen behind cooking education of my children, she writes in a post called Enjoy the Moment:

"There is always something -- the Holy Spirit, I know -- gently reminding me that this is it, this moment is what it’s all about. This child offering his help (help that will slow you down and mess things up and maybe even add a bit more salt than you’d like) -- this child and this help is all part of the glorious, gut-wrenching oft-aggravating ever-redemptive deal of motherhood."

Well put, Mrs. Testosterhome, and thanks for the encouragement to continue enlisting my children's help in the kitchen!

Kitchen Wear

2011-01-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

For Christmas I received two aprons, which is surprising considering I've never received even one apron as a gift before (unless you count the 4-H one I used for food activities and demonstrations, but I think it actually belonged to the club).

Both aprons were actually complements to some really great gifts. First, Mom H. bequeathed to me her lefse cooker, along with the necessary lefse-making accessories and an über-festive reversible apron (snowmen on one side, candy cane stripes on the other), which will forever and always be my designated lefse-making apron. I've made one batch of lefse so far, and it turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself, and I'm certain its success is due at least in part to the apron. Thanks Mom!

The second apron was from Mom D.W. and accompanied "The Pioneer Woman Cooks," the most entertaining cookbook I've ever read, and I do mean "read," as in sit down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and digest every word of it, even the recipes my family will never eat. "The Pioneer Woman Cooks" is as much comedy, photography and diary as it is cookbook, which is a combination that makes for darn good readin' (except I don't say "darn," so pretend you didn't hear that). Mom made this apron, and seriously, it's cuter than most of my nice Sunday clothes. Thus, I've been wearing it regularly, because I like to feel like I look cute. Thanks Mom!

Aren't mothers great?

Digital Scrapbooking Awesomeness!

2011-01-10T16:39:00.000-08:00

I've finished organizing the 2010 photos (on the computer, of course) into groups for scrapbooking. I took to scrapbooking digitally with our family's 2007 album and just loved the speed and ease of it. And really, while the price of the finished product seemed like a lot in one lump sum, it was comparable to (if not cheaper) than printing all those photos and purchasing the scrapping goods. Thus I've continued.

However, I have missed using all the cool stickers (particularly letter stickers) and papers and other fun decorations. So, realizing that digital scrapbooking is becoming quite popular and that there have to be more people like me who would want digital embellishments, I googled "free digital scrapbooking embellishments."

Oh. My. Goodness!

There is so much fabulous free stuff out there! I had no idea! I downloaded and downloaded and downloaded some more until I had the beginnings of a decent scrapbooking station, and then downloaded a few more! Two of the best sites I found were www.scrapbookpresentations.com and www.freedigitalscrapbooking.com.

Both have lots of embellishments and alphabet sets, but www.freedigitalscrapbooking also has papers, fonts and ribbons.

Anyway, back to sentence one... I've finished organizing this past year's photos and am so exited to begin putting together the 2010 pages with all this fun new stuff! So excited, in fact, that I've already started, and here is one page featuring a few of things I downloaded.

Okay, it's kinda small here, but do you see that fun "OUT in the SNOW" writing? It's a font called Snowfall. And those cute little snowflakes? Embellishments. And that strip of blue stripedy goodness on the left? Digital scrapbooking paper. And the ribbony thing at top and bottom? I just love that thing! (You should see the ribbons and rickrack I'm using on other pages!)

As you may have noticed, finding all this great stuff made my day, so I thought I'd share it in hopes that someone else's day may also be brightened.

Go Directly to Jail...

2010-12-09T18:27:00.001-08:00

While playing Monopoly today, I was sent directly to jail. I asked the boys what my crime was. Their responses were:

"I think you stole some furniture." ~ Isaac

"I think you went to a store and got something but forgot to pay." ~ Elijah (I like how I "forgot" to pay and didn't really intentionally commit a crime)

"You were skidding." ~ Luke

And the winner...

"I think you were running around in the street with no clothes on!" ~ Levi

Thank-you, Levi.

One Hour

2010-12-03T14:27:00.000-08:00

Recently Wade's work schedule changed... well, not really changed so much as got more stringent. They ix-nayed taking a short (or no) lunch in order to come home early. Drat.

I didn't think this would really affect my routine much, but sheesh, it has! Now instead of having things in a somewhat clean and peaceful order for my beloved to come home to at 4 p.m., I don't have to achieve household zen until 5 p.m. One might think this extra hour would be nice, but I've come to rue it.

Now I face one more afternoon hour of chaos with the chores undone (no, I can't possibly get on them earlier than I need to). And that precious hour between 4 p.m. and 5 p.m., when the chores used to be done but I still didn't have to get dinner started, that beautiful time when my husband was home and all was peace and order in the house and I could sit there serenely looking like a stellar wife and mother, well, it's gone!

Now that hour is spent doing the chores so things still look calm and orderly when Wade gets home at 5 p.m., and I don't even get to sit down and enjoy it because it's time to start dinner!

I know, if I were more disciplined I would go ahead and get things tidied up early even though Wade won't be right home, but it's not nearly as satisfying to bask in that hour alone (the boys won't bask with me), and chances are if I cleaned early, things would be all a-chaos again by the time Wade got home anyway.

I may just have to have a chat with Wade's boss and explain to him how his cracking down on hours is really distressing my routine and mental well-being. I'm sure he'd be sympathetic.

The Spirit of the (ND Homeschool) Law

2010-11-26T13:57:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday Pastor Brad concluded his series of sermons on The Sermon on the Mount. Jesus' point in his sermon in Matthew was that the pharisees had adhered only to the letter of the law and had lost the spirit of the law. And my mind wandered briefly to our school year.

The letter of the law says we need to do four hours of school per day for 180 days in a year and pass standardized tests. The spirit of the law, in my understanding, is that children are given adequate study time to fully grasp the concepts of their grade level, which is proven by their passing standardized tests. And here, too, the spirit of the law is more important than the letter.

Now, as a Christian, I am called to the highest standard of obedience, first to God, and also to my government. And so I struggle with this question: If I fulfill the spirit of the law (their comprehension), am I obligated to meet the letter of the law as well (days and hours)?

My heart says yes, rise to the highest standard, go the extra mile, strive toward perfection, give no one room to question my integrity, keep going through all 180 days. My head says oh good grief, just wrap up the school year when we finish our books.

What would Jesus have to say about this? Sigh. I think I already know.

The Abundant Life

2010-11-24T10:04:00.000-08:00

"The Testosterhome Lady," as she is known in our house, posted an article yesterday that struck a chord with me, and so I'm sharing a link to her blog here.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

http://www.testosterhome.net/2010/11/in-gratitude-for-so-many-things.html

All Boy

2010-11-23T13:10:00.000-08:00

Isaac quote number one, to one of his brothers: "Which one do you want to be first? The who gets hit, or the one who does the hitting?"

Isaac quote number two, as he engages Dad in a game of bloody knuckles (which Mom refuses to play!): "Girls are missing out. OUCH!!!"

Art

2010-11-23T09:59:00.001-08:00

I know, I've been slacking on the blogging, which isn't for lack of content as much as lack of time (or lack of taking time), but I'm taking a moment right now to share something that's been sitting in the "to blog" queue for several weeks, a fabulous piece of artwork that Luke drew free-hand and that I felt compelled to share because I'm that kind of a mother who thinks her children are just the most artistic and smart and fabulous kids ever to grace God's good earth, and I thought I'd try to play a little catch-up with the blog thingy. So if you haven't passed out from trying to read that whole sentence in one breath, here is a little something special for you to enjoy.

~ by Luke, age 7

A Jaunt Through My Mind

2010-10-26T14:45:00.000-07:00

Lately it seems I've been bombarded with messages regarding contentment, possessions, wealth and generosity

... A passage from Isaiah stressed how God is all I need, not anything else.

... A Banner article pointed out the need to surrender everything to God, even what I hold most dear.

... A singer spoke about being content with little and giving up earthly things while storing up eternal riches.

... A textbook touched me with stories of refugees who leave their homes with nothing but their lives, if they're lucky.

... Another blog writer reflected on simplicity and finding contentment in doing with less. (Hi Amy)

... A realization during devotions opened my eyes to how much I desire comfort and convenience, two things Jesus completely did without.

I know possessions, even luxurious ones, aren't bad. God blessed Abraham and Job with great riches. But I know they would have been willing to give it all up in a heartbeat for the sake of their Lord, and God knew that too, thus it was "safe" for Him to bless them so. But me? Give up everything? But what about hot water on tap? What about electricity? What about high-speed internet access?

So here's the real question: do I accept all the stuff around me -- this embarrassment of wealth -- as a blessing from the Lord? Or should I view it warily as a potential stumbling block, an idol waiting to be worshipped, a hinderance to living a Christ-like life?

Such are the thoughts that go running through my mind, stumble, and end up resting there awhile.

What month is it?

2010-10-09T15:00:00.000-07:00

Today I harvested three things from our garden:

(That's pizza sauce in those jars. I didn't think to take a picture of all the tomatoes before I canned.)

So what month is it around here? June, August or October? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm loving the on-and-on-and-on-going bounty!

Insideout?

2010-10-05T15:37:00.000-07:00

I can understand getting caked-on mud on the outside of one's shoes, but on the inside? Seriously? Sheesh.

Doing School

2010-10-01T19:09:00.000-07:00

I really enjoy taking pictures of my kids doing their school work.

Somehow they manage to act natural while I'm clicking away in their faces.

It almost seems like they study best when they know they're being photographed... which is not how they usually react to the camera coming out.

Yes, this is part of school too. Although there isn't much that's heathy about sausage, this counts for health and life skills.

I think I'm enjoying this book as much as the kids.

Don't tell them, but I read ahead.

This one makes me swoon. The elder three were explaining their history lesson to Elijah. Full-color picture-heavy textbooks work wonders for getting and keeping their attention.

This is spelling practice.

And this is playtime following spelling practice.

More spelling practice (it's good to have lots of word games in the house. Those letters come in so handy. Boggle and Bananagrams are also indispensable).

Spelling practice and observation skills, a good combination.

I tell you, and unfinished basement is also very handy. Since Levi and Luke had pretty much filled the front sidewalk with their spelling words the previous day, the basement floor served as a fabulous tablet for Isaac.

So that's what school looks like around here. It's kinda fun. Of course, I wouldn't take pictures of the grouchy grumpy parts (not that we ever have any of those, ahem).

Strawberry Recipe #8

2010-09-29T17:58:00.001-07:00

I tried out this recipe about a month ago and was beginning to wonder whether I could still post it, but I was reassured today that, indeed, I could, since the strawberries are still coming on! I was able to pick about a quart today.

I found this recipe on-line and would give credit to its author, but I have absolutely no idea what website it was. So to whoever originally came up with and published this fabulous dessert, thank-you and I give you full credit!

Strawberry Roll

3/4 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 eggs, separated
1/2 cup sugar
Another 1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
Powdered sugar
1 tub of Cool Whip
2 pints strawberries, cut into bite sized pieces

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spray a cookie sheet with cooking spray and line with wax paper.

Mix the flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl. With an electic mixer, beat egg whites until foamy (high speed). Add 1/2 cup of sugar a little at a time and beat until you have stiff peaks. In another bowl, beat egg yolks and another 1/2 cup of sugar. Beat in 1 teaspoon of vanilla. Then fold the flour and yolk mixture into the egg whites using a rubber spatula until just blended. Spread on the cookie sheet. Bake 15 minutes.

Spread a clean dish towel on the counter and dust with powdered sugar. When the cake is done and cooled for a few minutes, slide a knife around the edge of the cookie sheet and turn the cake out onto the dish towel. Peel off the waxed paper. Roll the cake and the dish towel together and let it cool.

Break open the Cool Whip tub and stir in the strawberry pieces. Then unroll the cake gently, spread the cream and strawberries on it and re-roll.

Sprinkle the whole thing with more powdered sugar if you want. Slice into thick pieces. Store in the refrigerator.

Only in a Boy House

2010-09-27T08:47:00.000-07:00

Overheard as boys dress up in costumes and round up weapons:

Boy 1: Okay, who's going to be the boxer on this level?
Boy 2: Aren't you going to be the boxer?
Boy 1: No, I'm the tae kwon do-er. You be the boxer.
Boy 2: No, I'm the imperial walker.

Does My Heart Good

2010-09-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

for vocabulary practice, Isaac had to use each of his vocabulary words in a sentence.

"Jubilant: I am jubilant because I have brothers."

If you don't like that number...

2010-09-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

After three or four spirited repetitions of "United Breaks Guitars," Isaac politely asked Levi, "Would you please not sing that anymore? It gets annoying hearing the same thing over and over." Without missing a beat Levi changed his tune and began gustily belting out "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" The boy was made to sing.

Strawberry recipes #6 and #7

2010-09-03T21:40:00.001-07:00

The berry bushes are still producing madly (kind of like I love them, madly), but alas I've failed to properly document the last few things I've done with the madly delicious berries. So without further ado, two more madly awesome recipes incorporating the maddeningly amazing strawberry.

Strawberry Milkshakes

Strawberries, frozen
Milk
Sugar (optional)
Ice

Combine equal amounts of milk and strawberries in a blender and blend madly away. Add sugar to taste and enough ice to meet your desired thickness. For an elegant presentation, pour into glasses (or Veggie Tales cups if you're at our house) and drizzle with chocolate syrup. Voila!

Berry Pie with Fresh Fruit

That's the title it's found under in my trusty Joy of Cooking cookbook, and it's suitable for use with gooseberries, currants, blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries and loganberries. I rarely make a fully baked pie with strawberries (this may be the first time I ever have), but I had a craving for crust, the top and the bottom, thus baking was required.

4 c fresh berries
2/3 - 1 c sugar
1/4 c flour
1/2 t cinnamon
2 c flour
1 t salt
2/3 chilled shortening
2 T chilled butter
4 T water
1 to 2 T butter

Combine first amount of sugar (based on tartness of your berries), 1/4 c flour, and cinnamon and sprinkle over berries. Stir gently and let sit for 15 minutes. Preheat oven to 450.

Sift together (or just combine, if like me, you don't have a sifter) 2 c flour and salt. Combine chilled shortening and butter and add half to flour mixture, cutting with a pastry blender or crumbling with fingers until it has the grain of cornmeal. Add the rest of the shortening mixture and work in until chunks are pea-size. Sprinkle dough with water and blend lightly until it holds together. If needed, add more water one teaspoonful at a time until you can gather it up easily.

Divide dough into two balls, and roll out for crusts. As my mother does, I like to slit the top crust creating a picture of whatever is inside the pie. Lay the bottom crust in a pie pan, pour in the berry mixture and dot with butter. Place top pie crust over and crimp edges to your liking. Eat the leftover dough after wiping down the inside of the berry bowl with it.

Brush the top crust with milk and sprinkle lightly with sugar. Bake at 450 for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 and bake another 35 to 40 minutes or until top is nicely browned and juices begin to leak through the slits in the crust.

I must say (must I? okay, not really, but I will anyway) that this was hands-down the best pie crust I have ever made. I've used this crust recipe before with just average results, so I don't know if it was the weather, the thoroughly chilled shortening, the luck of the rolling or the panties I was wearing, but something (everything!) went right with this crust, and it was divine. Madly so. I was tempted to eat the whole thing myself except the kids saw me making it and might not have forgiven me if I'd not shared.

Domesticity

2010-09-02T14:54:00.000-07:00

Points toward domestic goddesshood: I canned pizza sauce and spaghetti sauce with tomatoes from our garden.

Point deductions: I used a packaged sauce mix -- just add tomatoes and a spoonful of sugar.

Not that I was seriously in the running for achieving deification as a domestic goddess anyway. I mean, really, I rely on boxes for all my cake and pancake needs, miss the yearly mopping requirements by a mile, and ignore the boys' bathroom until the guys in body suits and gas masks show up threatening to shut down my homemaking operation due to toxicity issues. Oh well. Who wants to be a goddess anyway? Way too much pressure for me. I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy my pizza sauce.

What's it called again?

2010-09-01T09:52:00.000-07:00

Isaac: "Hey Mom, you know that thing in our government? The, um, table of contents, I think?"

Me: "The Declaration of Independence?"

Isaac: "Yeah, that's it."

Metamorphosis: Take Three

2010-08-20T11:17:00.000-07:00

The monarch has emerged!

These caterpillars ate voraciously! Luke captured eight of them, and I wondered whether my milkweed would survive the constant picking of leaves and branches! It was amazing watching them eat the leaves -- chomp, chomp, chomp, row by row, like little corn on the cob munchers.

Watching them enter their pupa stage was also amazing. They hang upside down for hours, and finally, with much squirming, burst their outer skin and peel it off, revealing this green, featureless blob.

And then a monarch butterfly comes out! It's incredible!

It astounds me that God chose this means for butterfly development. He could have just had adult butterflies give birth to live baby butterflies. Why egg, larva, pupa and then adult? Perhaps metamorphosis exists, at least in part, to give us a glimpse of just how creative, powerful and mind-bogglingly sovereign our creator is.

Communication Breakdown

2010-08-20T11:13:00.000-07:00

Elijah, pointing to a spider: "I believe that is a spider."

Me: "That is a true belief."

Elijah, looking at me quizzically: "Who's ever heard of a troobeleaf?" He eyed the spider again and declared, "I saw another troobleleaf in the van."

Getting Old Ain't for Kids

2010-08-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

"I just don't know about growing up. I don't know what I'm going to do, where I'll live, where to get my groceries or how to pay the gas bill." ~ Isaac, age 8

Plan "B" is for "Breakfast"

2010-08-13T10:08:00.000-07:00

A funny thing happened in the kitchen this morning (and thankfully it had nothing to do with the caterpillars, grasshoppers or crickets). Isaac asked if he could make muffins for breakfast, which I delightedly agreed to. This was his second time making this particular recipe, so I stood back a little and let him take the lead. Perhaps I should have led (or at least paid attention) just a little more than I did though. After he got the batter all spooned into the muffin tins, he swiped a finger around the inside of the mixing bowl, licked it, and pulled a pucker face.

"This tastes weird," he declared.

I also tasted the batter and WHOO-EEEE! That was some batter!

"Isaac, do you remember how much salt you put in?" I asked.

"Let me look. It says right here. Three-fourths cup."

Oh dear, that says three-fourths of a TEASPOON!

We cooked 'em up anyway and served them to his brothers, just for kicks, and then pulled out the cold cereal.

More Metamorphosis

2010-08-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

Another miracle has occurred in the kitchen, and I'm not talking about Wade making dinner, which he does with enough frequency as to negate it being a miracle. Luke's second caterpillar has emerged as a butterfly!

Sorry about the lack of clarity. Taking sharp pictures through a mason jar is a challenge beyond my photographing capabilities.

After he formed his chrysalis, we did a little on-line research and read that this type of caterpillar winters over in its chrysalis. Oh boy, I thought. This pupa is going to live on my kitchen counter until next spring? For the sake of science and my son, so be it. So imagine my delight when it emerged after only nine days rather than 180! (Guess whoever wrote that internet article hadn't done quite enough research. Perhaps the late summer chrysalis-makers winter over, but not this one!)

It's a black swallowtail, and Luke discovered its emergence early enough that it wasn't yet ready to fly when we released it from its jar, thus allowing plenty of time for some fun shots of Luke and his little beloved pet.

Stay tuned for more metamorphosis news as we currently have another three chrysalises and eight caterpillars living in jars and an aquarium on the kitchen counter (or should I say in our science lab).

Moving mountains... or not

2010-08-09T20:38:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder why we don't see more mountains moving, when all it takes is a mustard seed's worth of faith. I can think of a few figurative (and one literal) mountain I'd love to see move (actually I'd like to see the literal one replicate, because I don't want it gone from where it is; I just want it visible from here as well). And I have absolute (at least mustard seed-sized) faith that God can make it happen. So why doesn't it?

I know, God's ways are so far above my ways that I get dizzy even trying to look up that high. But it does make me wonder whether my faith is really much smaller than I think it is.

I've noticed, with disturbing frequency, that the more my faith grows, the punier and more pathetic it appears to be. It's like I'm hiking in the mountains, and just when I scale a massive cliff and think I must be getting near the top, the mist lifts and I realize that I'm only just clearing the foothills. Although I've come so far, the top is farther away than ever.

I don't say this in a whiny way. I'm not complaining that the journey is long. It's encouraging to reach those points when things become clearer, even when what you see isn't what you expected or perhaps wanted. But it does make me wonder whether my faith, which I feel is maybe almond sized, is actually so so so much smaller than I know. Perhaps it still has a whole lot of growing to do before it's able to move mountains.

Overheard in a house full of boys

2010-08-09T07:56:00.000-07:00

Isaac as he came to the breakfast table: "My boogers are extra crusty this morning."

Levi's exclamation on finding a cucumber as big as a dinner glass: "Pokey fright!"

Elijah's favorite way to preface something serious he's about to address: "You might notice that..." (as in "Dad, you might notice that my owie is getting better," or "Mom, you might notice that my shirt is very dirty.")

And this sympathetic doctoral advice from Isaac to Luke, who was complaining of a tummy ache while we sang the national anthem at Saturday's rodeo: "It's okay Lukey, you're supposed to put your hand right there anyway when we sing this song."

A well-thought-out plan

2010-08-05T20:17:00.000-07:00

Isaac: I've been thinking of running away.

Me: Where would go?

Isaac: Well, I was thinking that you should drive ahead of me and put little paper arrows in the places I should turn, all the way to Nana and Papa's.

Fly Away Home: Light Saber Up

2010-07-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

Synopsis: After eager developers begin demolishing a swamp area near her father's farm, 13-year-old Amy rescues 15 goose eggs from the wreckage, and hatches them in a barn. The goslings devote themselves to Amy and follow her everywhere, but trouble begins when the local animal control officer wants to clips their wings. A second problem arises when Amy and her dad learn that geese learn where to migrate to by following their parents. Together Amy and her dad come up with a crazy but just-maybe-workable solution that takes them on a 1,000 mile adventure, 15 geese on the wing.

Highlights: Fly Away Home was touching without begin sappy; dealt with issues of grief, anger and reconciliation without going (too far) over our kids' heads; featured wonderful footage of geese and countryside; and was enjoyable for the whole family.

Snags: There were a few words that I would have preferred be left out, but they were few. At one point when Amy was missing her deceased mom, her dad explained that she was all around her, in the geese, in the clouds. A nice thought for a child perhaps, but a bit off base from a Christian perspective. Amy's dad also has a sometimes-live-in-girlfriend.

Conclusion: This film is family-friendly, exciting, funny, beautiful, features a happy ending and is loosely based on a true story to boot. It ranks high on my re-watch list. My only wish is that we could find a TV edited version that might omit some of the few objectionable words. Light sabers up all around!

Strawberry Recipe #5

2010-07-26T13:21:00.000-07:00

I spread this light and delicious frosting over a basic yellow cake, but I think it would be divine on angel food cake! Note: I was warned that this doesn't do well sitting on a cake in the fridge overnight, so make this frosting that day you plan to eat it.

Strawberry Frosting

1 egg white
1 c sugar
1 c sliced strawberries

Combine all three ingredients in a large mixing bowl and beat on high speed until stiff peaks form (I was told 20 minutes, but it only took me 5, so keep an eye on it). That's it. How easy!

Metamorphosis

2010-07-05T15:35:00.000-07:00

We finished up the school year with a study of insects, and one of the activities was to catch a cricket and observe it for a few days. Well the boys were having way too much fun with this, and started capturing all sorts of creatures, including a red, white and black striped caterpillar we identified as Euptoieta claudia.

I really didn't give the caterpillar much of a chance -- I figured it would die soon like all those I caught as a child and tried keeping in jars -- but alas, it surprised me! After a couple days it attached itself to the cheesecloth top (he kept escaping through the vent holes) and formed a chrysalis! This happened on June 29. And by the way, this was the most beautiful chrysalis I've ever seen (not that I've seen a lot). It was a metallic blueish green with shiny gold spikes. We wondered how long it would take to emerge and hoped it wouldn't happen during a vacation!

Much to our delight it emerged during the night last night, on July 4, and boy is this guy stunning!

Here it is still in the aquarium next to it's broken chrysalis.

And here it is outside as we prepared to release it. As soon as we opened the lid he fluttered away across the yard and into the big blue sky. Watch out for birds, little buddy!

Strawberry Recipe #4

2010-06-29T13:27:00.000-07:00

These are a little bit time consuming, since you can only cook a couple at a time and kind of need to babysit them, but they were very yum! Take note: in moderate or high humidity, either eat or seal these up right away or they get soft and lose their shape.

Tulipes

3 large egg whites
3/4 c powdered sugar
1/2 c flour
6 T melted butter (no substitutions)
1/2 t vanilla
1/4 t salt

Preheat oven to 350. Grease large cookie sheet.

In a large bowl, beat egg whites, powdered sugar and flour until well blended. Beat in melted butter, vanilla and salt.

Make two cookies by dropping batter by heaping tablespoons four inches apart on cookie sheet. Spread batter to form four-inch rounds. Bake cookies until golden around edges, about five to seven minutes.

Place two two-inch diameter glasses upside down. With large, thin spatula, quickly lift hot cookies and gently shape over bottom of glasses. When cookies are cool move to wire rack. Store in single layer in an airtight container at room temperature.

To serve, fill with ice cream or whipped cream and berries or fruit.

And I Quote

2010-06-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

Luke: Mom, do you remember in the Bible when Moses' staff turned into a snake? Do you know why I think God turned the other guys' staffs into snakes too? So that Moses' snake could eat theirs up and they wouldn't have any staffs any more."

And that's the real reason the Israelites were set free -- the fear of a nation-wide staff shortage.

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs: Light Saber Up

2010-06-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

Synopsis: When Flint's FLDSMDFR (Flint Lockwood Diatonic Super Mutating Dynamic Food Replicator) is accidently launched into the atmosphere and starts raining burgers on Swallow Falls, the fate of the dying town is turned around. Things are looking up for Flint and the newly renamed town of Chewandswallow, until the machine begins malfunctioning. Now Flint and weather reporter Sam Sparks must risk their lives to shut it down.

Highlights: I loved when Flint told Sam that she was even more beautiful with her glasses and scrunchie, and that she should let herself be smart instead of acting flaky so that more people would like her. There was also a great side story going on with Flint trying so hard to impress his dad, and his dad having a hard time expressing himself to Flint, which was solved in the end with the use of the monkey thought translator.

Snags: Okay, this is more a personal preference than a real drawback to the movie, but it had several moments of Jim Carey/Adam Sandler humor -- that obnoxious, stupid, irritating, not-even-really-humor-if-you-ask-me humor -- but that's just me. I'd have enjoyed it more without the monkey and the cop's twitching chest hairs.

Conclusion: This was a good clean film (if you can call a movie about falling food clean) that was entertaining for our whole family. The emphasis on family relationships was also nice to see. It's not high on my re-watch list, but I if the kids ask to watch it again, I'm comfortable with that.

Strawberry Recipe #3

2010-06-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

This delightful dish was our Father's Day dessert. Yum!

Strawberry Trifle

1 pkg. angle food cake mix
1 6-serving pkg. vanilla pudding
5 c. sliced strawberries

Bake cake according to package directions, let cool and break into small pieces. Slice berries and mix with a little sugar if desired. Prepare pudding according to package directions. Before pudding fully sets, layer in a large glass bowl: cake, berries, pudding, cake, berries, pudding, cake, berries, pudding. Refrigerate for several hours before serving. For added aesthetic appeal, arrange some halved or sliced strawberries over the top (not shown in picture).

Dinner

2010-06-19T09:58:00.000-07:00

Aren't some days just so like this?

Strawberry recipes 1 and 2

2010-06-14T21:15:00.000-07:00

Our strawberry patch has begun to produce fabulous, beautiful, delightful and oh-so-delicious berries. This may be the summer of the strawberries at our place.

One day the boys came in exclaiming, "Mom! We found five!" Everyone gets one but mom.

The next day it was, "Mom! We found 12!" Everyone (including mom) gets two!

The day after that came the cry, "Mom! We got 30! Can we make a pie?" Um, not quite, but we can each have five berries sliced over whipped cream. Okay, I confess, it was just extra creamy Cool Whip, but it was still good. And by the way, that right there was recipe number 1.

This afternoon the boys picked a scant quart, and yes, we made that pie! It was delicious. Here's the quick and easy recipe we used so that it would be ready right away after dinner.

Quick Strawberry Pie

1 c flour
2 T powdered sugar
1/2 c soft butter
1/8 t salt
1 1/2 c water
3/4 c sugar
2 T cornstarch
1 4-serving pkg. strawberry jello
2 c slice strawberries

Heat oven to 350. Mix together flour, powdered sugar, butter and salt and press into a pie plate. Bake for 12 minutes or until edges are golden. Cool.

Combine water, sugar and cornstarch and cook until clear(ish). Add jello and mix well. Combine with berries and pour into crust. Chill until set.

Stay tuned to find out what else we end up doing with strawberries this summer. Have any great ideas? Please share them!

The curse passes on

2010-06-05T14:42:00.000-07:00

Oh dear. I did it now. I fell victim to my own childhood sympathies for inanimate objects and have now validated those sympathies in my children.

Here's how it happened.

The boys made sand art ducks at today's street fest. They filled little plastic duck containers with layers of colorful sand, popped on a lid and voila, masterpieces were created. But the sand settled somewhat, allowing the colors to shake and shift. The three eldest were diligent to carry their ducks home carefully to preserve the distinct color striations, but Elijah had no such concern. His duck arrived home all one color -- brownish-blah.

Now here comes the part where I learn without a doubt that these are my children -- no switcheroos at the hospital.

Isaac and Luke were in tears over Elijah's poor duck that was doomed to a miserable existence of brownish-blahness. I understood completely. I recall finding a sad looking stuffed animal at a garage sale and begging to buy it and bring it home so that perhaps it wouldn't feel so terribly woebegone -- because stuffed animals have feelings, you know. Apparently sand art ducks do, too.

It took me many years to get over this irrational attribution of feelings to lifeless objects. I'm not certain I'm completely over it yet. Sometimes I still feel bad for toys left in storage.

So rather than trying to reason with my two overly-sympathetic boys, I blurted out the only thing that I thought would have comforted me as a child had I been in the same situation.

"The duck wants to be whatever color his owner wants him to be. If his owner is happy with his color, the duck is happy."

And of course it worked. I knew it would. But now I have verified the fact that toys have feelings! Augggg! I'm afraid I've cursed them to a lifetime of guilt for every toy they someday donate, sell or throw away!

And so the curse passes on to the next generation. Maybe, being boys, they'll outgrow the extreme sentimentality and properly teach their children that toys don't have feelings. I can only hope. It was more than I could do.

Down a Long Dirt Road

2010-05-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

Several miles off a North Dakota state highway, down a dirt road traveled only by farmers and ranchers, sits this church, long left to the prairie elements and wildlife.

It first stirs inside me a feeling of adventure, of discovery. Other than the neighbors, scattered as wide as the rolling hills and buttes, who has laid eyes on this building, this testament of faith? Even the sight-seeing ghost-town hunter would likely never find this spot, completely unmarked except by the building itself.

As I peer inside, questions greet me from every corner. What kind of merriment was had here? Weddings, certainly. Baptisms, potlucks, worship, of course. Likely funerals, too. Who were these people who prayed here and sang here? What became of the people who built it, with their weathered faces, rough hands and faith that could survive the prairie elements? Why did they leave, and where did they go?

At first, there seem to be no answers here. Only a tattered Christian flag, crosses on the walls, and broken windows are left of what was surely once a vibrant and useful church. Sadness at what has been lost begins to subdue me.

But slowly the story -- patchy and lacking particulars -- begins to show itself.

The Spirit who stirs the perpetual prairie winds stirred the hearts of would-be pioneers to leave home and family for this vast and relentless place. He provided faith and food for their souls and bodies. He enabled them to construct a house of worship in a barren place, much like the Israelites in another strange and harsh land. And today, as the evidence of his care and their faith stands broken by the wind, I believe that He holds many of them in his hands.

Those who seek him will still find him here. His door will open as easily as the battered and broken door unsuccessfully latched with a length of rusty wire.

I leave, not with mere excitement, nor sadness, but with comfort. Comfort that when I am as broken and worn as this building, my God will be here still. Peace that my life will tell the story of His love and faithfulness, even after my body's usefulness is exhausted. I know that he who enables me now, will never abandon me. He will hold my soul forever.