Up Too Early to Be Useful, Thoughts on Friends

Ugh. Mrf. *mumble, mumble*

I fell asleep at a reasonable time last night (weird, isn't it?) and was wide awake this morning at five thirty. So far, it's been a perfectly lost morning. I was going to clean a bit, but was terrified I'd wake someone up and lose my quiet time. Thought about showering early, but inevitably the baby would get up and be standing bedside, screaming, wondering why I won't pick him up. Thought about doing some prepwork on breakfast, but again - both bedrooms basically lead straight off the kitchen and it's all "right there", for everyone to hear. So I made coffee, read a bit, wandered around scratching myself and wondering if I should wake up Zorak so we could spend some time together before he leaves for work...

In the end, I decided to blog. That's when Smidge came stumbling quietly out of his room, with his arms held high and his precious sleepy-baby expression on his face. He was after food and snuggles. Oh. That's good stuff. Who needs time alone when life offers you that? He's eating yogurt now, so this will be a quick blogging and then - on with the day!

Just quickly, though, I'd like to really glow and beam a bit about the wonderful women friends in my life both invisible and real. They make me laugh, even at myself. They make me think. They encourage the best from themselves, their children, and their days. I appreciate them. It's only been in the last six years or so that I've developed healthy friendships with women, and it's also correspondingly brought a healthier perspective on who I want to be as a woman. After years of sloughing through the negativity that can be female companionship and avowing that only men made good friends, I've learned that this isn't so. It's not the gender of the person, but the quality of the person that makes all the difference. That point applies to both sides of a friendship. It's been a good learning process.

I had two great phone chats yesterday with two ladies who are among my most favorite invisible friends. Both conversations left me feeling uplifted, encouraged, and thoughtful. What I found so great is that both ladies are so different in some ways, but in the ways that have drawn us together in cyberspace, they're both very similar. They are devoted to their families, to their homes, and they have a great sense of humor about it all. They sense the absurd and realize it's not avoidable, and so they both roll up their sleeves and tackle it all head on.

I love hearing how husbands and wives have helped one another grow over the years - not out of a sense of "I can change him," (which I think is the most detrimental philosophy known to marriage), but just out of the natural progression of having someone in your life who encourages you and sparks that inner drive for you to be the best wife/mother you can be. I feel that way about Zorak, and it makes me grin from ear-to-ear to hear similar things from other women. Good stuff. Funny stories. Good examples for children to follow. We need more of that. We need to get out there and tell our encouraging stories to other women. They need to hear that more than they need to hear what a jackass your spouse can be. We can all be jackasses from time to time, but that's not what life is about (well, unless that is your life, I suppose.) It's about the good things, the balancing things, the walls you climb together and the things that make your home unique.

I'm feeling quite encouraged today, and hope that you find encouragement in your day, too. It's a good day for it.

Ah, and on that note, I'd best go wrangle the baby and let Zorak know it's safe to get up (aka - coffee's ready).

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sunday, Muddy Sunday

(Apologies to any Irish readers.)

Today we awoke to what I am guessing is the extent of Dennis' effect on our little community. It was humid (shocker) and grey (ok, that was weird) - from the word go. The sun never came up today. The sky just went from black to light grey. Very pretty. Then it rained. Or it got so humid the air just... fell. Not sure which, but everything is covered in mud right now.

And since we're in a part of the world that is geographically foreign to our friends and families (seriously, like any of us pays attention to the rest of the map on the Weather Channel until we personally know somebody in those parts), I've been fielding questions today as to whether or not we'll be washed into the Gulf. Nope. We're good. We might as well be in Tennessee; we're that far out of the way. And I am thankful. If anyone we know does get washed into the Gulf, please know our door is open. We have little square footage, but we do have air mattresses, hot water, a dutch oven, and a Costco. The Mantis Hurricane Refugee Camp is open.

Zorak is reading the copy of Atlas Shrugged he got for his birthday. The first thing he did was remove the jacket cover. Yet another reason I love this man. I've never understood the attraction, the need, to converse with someone who is reading, but it's killing me not to talk to him while he's reading. This is new to me. Normally it's me reading, and him talking. Granted, I read a lot - just the other day he was mocking my burial plans and I threatened to come back and haunt him. He said, "No you won't. I'll just leave a book out and you'll forget why you came back." Oh. Well, yeah... good point. Well, NOW, I understand. I don't get it, but I know he isn't just trying to make me forget what page I'm on when I'm reading. What is it about someone's bowed head and utter absorption in a book that just begs to be interrupted? *sigh* I'm trying very hard to be good.

*he's laughing at me now*

Not sure what this next week will bring, and I have a horrible suspicion I have four or five specific things scheduled for this coming Friday - possibly all at the same time. So I need to put up a calendar and start using it or the rest of July is going to be a mess.

And that's about it. No big changes, here. Just enjoying the daily grind and whispering to one another in passing, "Man, this place is gonna to be gorgeous come fall." It keeps us sane. It's good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Kim at Upward Call was asking about boys and long hair. This was such a timely discussion for me. James, being our oldest, gets to test the waters and wade through the swamps while Zorak and I decide which battles are worth picking, which hills worth dying on. It's not a picnic for us, so I know that can't be fun for him, either. We try to make the transition process as smooth as possible.

At James' last hair cut, it happened. He wanted it left longer in the back. Don't take so much off the top. Take a little more off the sides. Suddenly, he's a pro at hair design! I cringed. I'm not READY for that!!! I love his little Norman Rockwell haircut and appearance. (By the way, that site, rockwellprints.com, is not an affiliate link, but they do have a great collection of prints, good prices and no s&h on unframed prints.) Anyway, he wants it longer, now. He wants to have a say in it. I told him that he needed to respect my wishes at that moment (in the barber chair, the day before a wedding is just not the time to negotiate new waters), but promised him Zorak and I would discuss it and that we would deal with subsequent haircuts together. He was good with that.

So Zorak and I talked it over and have decided that it's one of those "give a little" issues. We'll set parameters, because he's six and that's our job, but we figure if he's old enough and mature enough to dialogue his preferences, then we want to encourage that approach with him. We took into consideration what it is he's wanting to do, and took stock of what's important to us, then we made the call as best we can:

1) He must keep himself well-groomed and clean. Obviously, at his age, we're still involved in that process, anyway.
2) No buzz cuts - he just can't pull that one off
3) No "dorothy hamill" cut - it gives us the willies to see that haircut on a boy.

Other than that, though, we're going to take a deep breath and give him some room.

On a reminiscent note, my junior year in high school I was invited to the movies with a young man I both worked with and went to school with. He was a wonderful, delightful, gentlmanly boy. He also had hair nearly to his beltline - think, bushy, curly, black hair. He came to the door to pick me up (nothing less would have been acceptable), made conversation with my parents, reaffirmed the time to bring me back, and off we went with friends to a movie.

All went well, other than my mother hiding in the kitchen (she wasn't ready for the "car date" concept). My Dad was awesome, which, since he had raised his first batch of children in the 40's, I wasn't so certain he would take a liking to this boy's appearance. When this boy dropped me off, he visited with Dad again and left.

The door shut. Dad flipped off the porch light, turned to me and said, "I like her. Think she'll join Rainbow?" Just as I opened my mouth to protest, my father smiled and winked at me. That was his way of letting me know that he liked the boy, but not the hair. That was his only point, and he didn't hound it. They got along famously, always. Even long after the boy and I lost touch, Dad would ask about him from time to time.

Not every parent is going to give our children that benefit of the doubt. Some claim that it's unfair or unjust, but truthfully a child's appearance (with regard to cleanliness, grooming and carriage) is indicative of his attitude toward authority, others, and life in general. It's not a bad indicator, as long as it's not the only indicator. So, while we hope James doesn't go for a full-blown Hendrix look, we also feel it's far more important to focus on his attitude toward others, toward his tasks and activities.

Our job is to guide him and help him learn to be more independent, to make good choices, and to accept the consequences of those decisions. Hopefully, the other indicators will shine through clearly enough that his hair won't be the most determinant thing to register with people. And if it is, well, that's also a consequence of dealing with society. Ideally, we will have equipped him well enough over the years so that he can decide to respond rather than react, to gauge how deeply his choices affect his opportunities and whether it's a worthwhile trade-off for him. He'll have to learn how to navigate the waters and pick his battles, too.

Oh, if only there was a manual for the details, eh? :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Television Parts (no relation to the movie!)

I have been hit three times recently with pleas to sign a petition, raise my voice in outrage, and join the chorus in begging our government to pay for entertainment with our tax dollars. Can you guess whether I’ve signed or called or written to do so? No. I haven’t. I’m not going to.

Nearly a month ago, I noticed that several of the PBS cartoons are “sponsored in part by The U.S. Department of Education and the No Child Left Behind Act”. I stopped in my tracks and stared hard at the logo to make sure I’d hear that right. Sure enough. I cannot believe, with all the hullabaloo over funding that has been raised over NCLB, that one single DIME was diverted to producing cartoons! But what is even more amazing to me is that since these programs have been given the fluffy and subjective title of “educational programming”, the very same folks who have complained so bitterly over the NCLB funding issues in the classrooms never raised an eyebrow about that allocation. Until now, when the funding for cartoons comes under threat. It’s mind boggling. Couldn’t our educational system (regardless of my personal feelings on the system itself) use an extra $100 MILLION dollars, you know, “in the classroom”, where that money is so needed?

Admittedly, I have a very different (although increasingly widespread) perspective of our government’s role. It’s not here to provide for our every whim, or procure our leisure time activity. The government, particularly on a Federal level, was instituted in order to provide for the People what they are not capable of doing on their own: national defense, international trade, foreign affairs, interstate commerce and communication.

Since this debate has resurfaced (it seems to come every few years, along with the accompanying fears and rhetoric), I’ve seen several arguments against cutting funding for these programs, but none yet that have made much sense. They all seem to be based on the assumption that our government - in addition to providing jobs, housing, education, and health care - is now also responsible for entertaining us. What is left for us to do for ourselves?

While I have not seen any reports citing direct sources to show this funding decision is a GOP retribution against “left-leaning news” on Public Broadcasting, the media continues to quote others (on the “left”) who allege just that. I’ve seen liberal cartoons jabbing the GOP for this assumption, quite clearly stating that there is no “leftist view” to the government-funded Public Broadcasting (to include NPR, NEA, PBS). Yet I’ve seen just that very argument made by liberals who have said that Public Broadcasting is a liberal view to balance Fox News. Which is it? Cake? Eat it? Imagining the whole thing?

Whether State funded news is liberal, conservative, communist or facist, I’m against it. There are countries around the world (most notably the former USSR & Iraq off the top of my head) who have fought long and hard to have a Free Press; one free of State authorization and scrutiny. Yet here some people are crying that we need more of that? If public television is such a great idea, why don’t we lobby to make all television public television? Why shouldn’t every station be held to the same high standards and goals of public broadcasting? If it is so very important to the quality of life and the essence of our integrity as a community, then why not?

Namely, history does not bear State-controlled mass media as a viable means to remaining a free and well-informed society. The State should not mandate our goals, our values, nor our ideals – and as the State maintains a larger hold on the dispensation of that information, it will continue to reflect less of the actual community and more of the agenda at the top – no matter which group is at the top.

John Lawson, the president of the Association of Public Television Stations says this funding cut (which accounts for less than 25% of the PBS budget) would “deprive tens of millions of American children of commercial-free educational programming." I guess he isn’t watching during the General Mills commercials?

According to the numbers provided by The Washington Post, the PBS series, “Ready to Learn”, which hosts such shows at Postcards from Buster, Arthur, and Dragon Tales, will lose 24.9 million dollars, from a budget of 333 million (as of FY ’04).

When we simple plebes, who seldom file gross income taxes of six digits, grapple with the concept of dealing in Federal Budget terms of millions and billions of dollars, it may feel like speaking to a five year-old about how many stars are in the sky. It can be easy to lose perspective. But the fact is, this is a good-sized chunk of change, even if it does break down to “only $1.12/year on your taxes”, as asserted by one letter I received. That money, collective has more power to be better applied elsewhere. Our government has overstepped its bounds in many ways, among which is its fiscal obligations. Stepping back from providing luxuries and entertainment is not a bad thing. Our money can be better spent by government, or given back to the people who earned it to be spent as seen fit by them.


This may come as unwelcome news to the folks who hold to the philosophy that if the government doesn’t do it, it can’t get done by the rest of us, but it really can. PBS, NPR, and the NEA can survive without feeding at the Federal trough. It might mean that if we value these programs, we might have to donate our own time, money and talents to them in order to see them succeed. But yes, it can be done. Let’s give it a try and spend our money on things we truly cannot do for ourselves, rather than will not.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Little Local Roundup

What a great week here in Huntsville, which I am learning to pronounce properly – HUNts-vul. We have a new Fire Chief who is causing quite a wave in our little pool. I’m not clear on the details, but it’ll be fun to figure them out. The big issue I was so concerned over (we missed the Council meeting for it while we were in NM) was actually tabled at that meeting, so we’ve got a little time on that front.

We did find a place for swim lessons! WOOHOO! They’ll give each boy a private lesson before the classes to place them in the appropriate class. It is taking every ounce of strength I’ve got not to “prep them for the test”. Admittedly, part of this is that everyone I spoke with last month, including this place, offers two beginner levels – those who are terrified of the water/have never had lessons, and those who can swim 20 feet by themselves. Uh... we’re somewhere just about smack in the middle of those two options. It would seem the best bet is to go with the easier class, but if they’re the only ones in the class who aren’t afraid to get in and go under, what use is that? Yet to put them in the more advanced class may well defeat the whole purpose and cause undue frustration and/or fear. Wow, I’d forgotten that individualized education is so hard to find sometimes! *wink* I’m counting on small class size in this case, and will leave it to the instructor’s discretion.


It’s been pretty hot ‘n sticky outside, but we’re having a great time indoors. Now that I’m not passing out every time I try to read aloud, books are re-emerging in our daily fare. We’ve even eased up on the rule about books at the table over breakfast. This morning we read some old favorites. James read some Richard Armour poems on insects. Jacob babbled incoherently and pointed at every letter in his ABC book. John read the back of the Parmesan cheese label. Eclectic, but good.

Oh! Smidge knows his colors! I had no idea! I don’t know when he picked them up or why he still won’t say them, but he knows them. He’s been lugging the Big-Book-of-Farm-and-Trucking-Equipment-For-Sale book around and can point to a vehicle of just about any color you ask. I think I had more fun with that today than he did.

James made a little green paper caterpillar for Smidge to play with while he reads The Very Hungry Caterpillar. It’s one of the most used toys in the house this week. The boys have run about in Aztec warrior garb (aka – tin foil, paper feathers, and cheap costume jewelry) the past few days. It is amazing what you can do with tin foil. They’ve also been big into making pretend movies lately, and will pretend to film one another cooking, me cleaning, Smidge running from them screaming, “NO!” You name it; it’s on imaginary film. They do this great running commentary, complete with close up shots of whatever project we’re working on. Since they only have one official pretend camera, they take turns, although it’s difficult to let go of directorial power and let someone else work on “your project”. But they are having a blast. I’m thinking of getting blank VCR tapes and turning them loose with the camcorder.

John is writing letters “for fun” this week! He’s been doing rhymes for a while, and has ending sounds down pat, but this week was something new – beginning sounds. It’s all clicking, and it’s beautiful. He’s also thoroughly enjoying math work. He finishes in a flash and can’t wait to show Zorak his work each day. Today he was strutting about the house, singing to himself, “Oh, yessssss. I’m learnin’! LEARNIN’! I’m learning in the summertiiiiiiiime!” I wish I could bottle that feeling and hoard it for the future.

James is zooming along with his Spalding work, and showing a much better grasp of the fundamentals of the program than I will ever hope to have. He’s in a bit of a rut with math, namely just that he gets distracted when it’s time to answer the bland drill-like questions. He’d rather draw contraptions, make up other word problems, write up a list of things for me to answer (or to ask Zorak), decorate all the numbers that have enclosed parts... From all the symptoms, it seems he’s a little bored. I know this, but I blew my creativity wad on the Aztec armbands and cloaks, so I’m dead in the water for a while.

Zorak gets to enjoy a day of learning about, then riding in, a really nifty helicopter tomorrow. The Mistress had better be cooperative in the morning, though, because the boys and I have GOT to get to Costco. We’re meatless, the fridge is barren of major protein groups, and in another 24 hours it won’t be a pretty sight. (Chris, Zorak asked for your email addy this week. I think he’s ready to talk. Thanks so much! I can listen, but that’s about all the help I can offer on this thing. At least until he’s ready to claim the insurance...)

I have been on hold with Bank of America for more hours today than I care to admit. And I still haven’t spoken with a single live being. They’ve botched something and I cannot for the life of me figure out where or what... or, obviously, how! We’d like to switch to a bank with a local branch, but are waiting until after we buy, just to prevent the untold number of crossed wires that process usually entails. It’ll be nice to put all our ducks in the same pen once more.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Happy Independence Day

See, Thom? I'm late again! *grin* I sat down last night to blog a bit about all that's going on, but you see, you should Never Give a Writer a Topic...

If you give a writer a topic, she'll develop an idea...
and then she'll want references to fill out her idea...
and when she has references, she'll just want more background...
and once she has additional background, she'll look for related themes...
and as those themes come together,
she'll get an idea...

It's a vicious cycle. I gave up around three this morning. Still never found the one quote I was looking for (blast this limbo-life, so bereft of books, and that creepy, spider-infested garage that holds them!)

Mainly, in thinking about the role of our government, the role of us citizens, the line between the two, and the flow of power, I found myself thinking hard about what the people on Edisto Island wanted - and fought for - after the Civil War. These men and women are my heroes. They knew their rights, and they stood their ground. They did not ask the government to give them everything to get started, or to carry them on. They looked to the Constitution and to citizenship, what it meant and what it could mean. Those were their goals. What these people wanted, worked for, and demanded from our government shines in my heart and mind as the ultimate in Citizenship today. We hold these men up to the boys as examples of true Citizenry and integrity. I would butcher the quote I wanted to share if I tried to reproduce it from memory, and no Google search has turned it up. When I find it, though, it's going on my banner at the top so I never lose it again.

Private Ownership of Property: the delineation between feudal serf and freeman. The ability to own property is one of the cornerstones of a free society. Bit by bit, this right, protected by our Constitution, and the power of the government to infringe on that right, limited by the same Constitution, are being mutilated and manipulated in an insidious manner. I am as amazed at this eminent domain proclamation as most people seem to be, and on so little sleep and a rapidly depleting iron level, there's not much I can say on the matter that hasn't been said more eloquently by others at this point. I am glad to see fervor on both sides of the fence, though. That gives me hope. When an issue, such as this one, or the McCain/Feingold gag order on the first amendment, actually comes to pass, it ignites bonfires of indignation in those who truly love the Constitution and we tend to see some strange bedfellows, indeed. Personally, I love it. Not the acts that bring it on, but that it can still happen.

Decisions like this draw the line between those who ultimately believe in self-government and those who actually do think we're all too stoopid to tend our own gardens (or, in this case, own our own gardens). The results generally surprise the few morons who honestly didn't see that coming (the five people in the United States who actually thought this one was a good idea). This is where I get so riled up I start stuttering and wondering just how the next few decades are going to play out for America. More foaming at the mouth. Total loss of eloquence. I do hope to actually have something new or unique to add to the discussion once I calm down. Right now, though...

Well, did anyone see Team America? The theme song (rated R - don't let your children Google this song!) keeps running through my mind. It's very, very sad when I fantasize about puppets saving the United States.

On a more positive note, however, I've just finished re-reading God, Guns & Rock 'n Roll, by Ted Nugent. While Ted and I differ (wildly) on a few particulars, there were many things in his book that struck home for me. One, in particular, I'm sharing here tonight. I think it bears repeating.

I cannot believe that any American citizen does not have a face-to-face, hands-on relationship with law enforcement leaders in his or her community and home regions. I cannot believe that any American citizen could accept having zero input into policymaking by not having a consistent ongoing communication with his or her elected representatives. In the absence of such communication, you in fact have no representation.

-Ted Nugent
God, Guns & Rock 'n Roll

Sing it, Brothah! We liberty-minded individuals often spend our time and energy talking amongst ourselves. Preachin' to the choir. Or arguing online - with people we aren't paying to represent us - attempting to convince them of our perspective. But how often do we sit down over coffee with local candidates for office? How often are we there, in person, at city council meetings or state level hearings? How many letters do we compose in our heads, and does that number match the number of letters we write up and mail to our representatives, newspapers and law enforcement agencies? Sadly, the results of such a quick, impersonal poll are dim. I'm guessing the margin of error is relatively small, since nobody has to 'fess up, but just be honest with yourself. It's okay. I don't have the technology to see you (yet).

We can't change it with our anger. But we have the law of the land on our side. We do have a voice in our Constitution, and raised high, that voice can be heard over the cacophony of crap the media and other outlets have plugged into the amp. It is never a lost cause. Freedom, and this beautiful land of opportunity, where the outcome is based on individual input and motivation, but the true playing field - the opportunity to use your input and motivation - are still alive and well; they are still ours. We are still free, and we cannot let things like this slide. America has made some great strides, perhaps greater than anyone imagined, but sometimes a big leap backward happens, as well. We cannot allow this to continue.

So, in honor of Independence Day, I'd like to issue a challenge. I don't care who you are or what it says on your voter registration card (but you must have one, otherwise we need to talk about much larger issues!) In the next month, write one letter, meet with one representative (of any kind, I don't care, just go), write a LTTE for your local/state paper, and take your family out together, to do something. Do something that means Citizenship. Do something that means something. I'll just ask for a show of hands on August 5th. But if you'd like to share what you've done, come brag away. Share your ideas. Don't be snarky, and don't be a jackass about it, ok? Just come and say, "I did xyz this week!" and we'll go "YAY YOU, Fellow Citizen!" OK?

Start by kissing those babies!
~Dy

The Power of Procrastination

Zorak and I were, quite literally, late for our own wedding. Two years late at first. Then, for the final attempt, only a few minutes. Still, late is late, and we are among the top performers in the Procrastination Hall of Fame (which will be built eventually).

So imagine our surprise today when we arrived to church not only on time, but early! As a matter of fact, we were so early, we were the first ones there! I managed to get my wires crossed and we showed up at 8:40 for the 9:30 service. (No, you don't really have to point out that we'd have been ten minutes late otherwsie, I noticed.) What to do for the next 45 minutes? Well, it's already hot 'n sticky out, so I'm not sitting on the steps or playing beside the pond. Besides, have you seen the size of those geese? No. So we took the boys to McDonald's to play while we had coffee and visited. McDonald's is beautifully bereft of other people at 8:45 on a Sunday morning. And... then we were only two minutes late getting back to the church.

I didn't realize just how late we normally are, until I saw several of James' classmates in John's classroom and asked if they had combined classes today. The adult in charge looked blankly at me for a second and then said, "Oh! No. *snicker* They start in here with songs and prayer and then go into their classrooms." Ohhhhhhhh. Never knew that. Sorry. Well, now that I know for a fact that we can get there before class starts, I plan to use that power for good.

We told the boys tonight about their up and coming new sibling. The naming games have begun already. If I thought Zorak's suggestions were bad the first three rounds, I evidently hadn't been through a "sibling naming brainstorm session" before. (Which, no, I hadn't... makes sense.) I'm glad we have six months left to convince the boys that they probably aren't going to have final veto power on that birth certificate. They are, however, absolutely thrilled! It was cute to watch them click on the clues we gave them over supper. Very cool.

Smidge didn't nap today, so he slipped into a Sleeping Beauty type trance during supper. Afterword, I put him down for the night and Zorak took the boys fishing. He called a bit later and said it was packed with people. The apartment complex sponsored a huge fireworks display, complete with bagpipes! They stayed for several hours and came home exhausted, but floating on air. I wish Smidge and I could have gone, but he needed his rest and it was nice to do a little laundry, watch a little Jurassic Park, and do my nails.

Oh, and on the house hunting expeditions. I apologize if I'm coming across whiney. I didn't mean to - I was shooting for humorous, but I don't always hit the mark. Since we got rid of the sociopath realtor, it's been a downright pleasant experience. It's not quite the same as strolling through a slew of model homes and picking colors, but by the same token, looking for just land means we aren't stepping over anyone's filthy laundry or embarrassing literature collections. So it's definitely going to have a whole different flavor to it than the majority of house hunting adventures. Like yesterday's adventure, for example: it really was great. I mean, it wasn't a stroll, and we didn't find "the pad", but we laughed and sweated like hogs, and spent time together as a family. The ice cream and milkshakes together were phenomenal. And in the end, we'll have stalked every acre in Northern Alabama to find just the right few for our little herd. And our little herd will have wonderful (or at least bonding) memories of how they helped to make "our home". I do, however, reserve the right to whine a bit when I'm out-to-here pregnant and spent the day laying concrete blocks in this ungodly heat, or when I have to beg Zorak to help me look for ticks because I can't see my legs anymore and I've spent the weekend knee-deep in brush clearing rocks to make a path... I may whine at some point. *grin*

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Extreme Sports: Househunting

We hiked 40 acres, straight up and down, today. It was lovely terrain. It was relatively dry (and I use that term excruciatingly loosely), but hot. There was no breath, no hint, no memory of a breeze today. It almost killed us.

John is, perhaps, the toughest child I've ever seen in my life. He was the only one of the five of us keeping up with the realtor. And that man was flying through the bushes and over ledges at a speed that made the Ewok chase scene look like a slow-motion play-by-play! Twice I saw John's little head dip into oblivion, only to pop back up again a split second later as he muttered, "I'm OOOkkkay!" Not a whine out of that kid, and when we hit the roadside again, he was bounding about, waving to tractors, happy as can be! Zorak says John reminds him a lot of his cousin, Todd - which is neat, because Todd is a neat guy. Todd used to ride his horse across the mountains to get to a rodeo, ride in the rodeo, and then ride home with his trophies. Come to think of it, Todd's horse was pretty tough, too. Anyway, he's an ag teacher in New Mexico now, and one heck of a neat guy. And John looks like he's shaping up much the same way.

Poor James - I felt like Capt. Aubrey, shouting, "Light along, there! There isn't a minute to lose!" While he played Maturin, stopping every three steps, sometimes two, regardless of whether we were all perched in line behind him, balanced precariously on a ledge. He was clueless about what was happening behind, or ahead of him; not oblivious out of indifference, but out of utter fascination and absorption in the phenomenal things you find under a canopy of trees. His one thought was to observe some kind of moss, or watch a spider, or identify some kind of creature. He was hooked. I thought, at first, that I might just leave him there if he didn't stopit, but when the parallel hit me, I just laughed to myself (between those sucking, rasping sounds I assume were breaths) and tried to be more patient.

By the time we returned to the Suburban, Zorak was 100% certain he wanted nothing to do with this property. At any point. Ever. Again. Meanwhile, I kept looking back wistfully, wondering just what size bulldozer we'd need to clear a pad and how difficult it would be to drop a well. Obviously, this wasn't "the" property. But it was good to see, and if nothing else it will bring us one step closer to finding the one.

The boys were exhausted when we got home. They had been so patient, and showed such fortitude on the whole excursion, that we just felt the occasion called for ice cream sundaes and milkshakes! Then we hosed them off and re-heated lunch leftovers, which they devoured while we watched a movie.

It was a great day. No ticks. (Still have the willies.) Met a really nice realtor, and one rather creepy one.

Oh, and I think I've found a place for the boys to take swim lessons. I will have to ring them on Tuesday and get the details, but it's at a Dive Shop, so I'm pretty enthusiastic about it. And if there is still room available, they'll both take a basic drawing session class at the Art Museum later in the month. Finally, it's starting to feel like summer, eh? *grin*

I'm off to de-crud from today's Extreme House Hunting (next week we're just going to parasail over the properties with the camera and make our own topo maps!) and visit with my Zorak.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Change in Venue

I'm going to have to recant on my previous decision to blog politics separately. I tried. I even set up a separate blog. Right now, though, I haven't the energy to set up another home, much less maintain two. Plus, what we believe is such an integral part of who we are that it doesn't quite work to try to separate the two.

There has been SO MUCH to comment on lately! I'm not certain where to start. Eminent Domain, Public Television funding, smoking bans in cities. I'll touch on each one this week, once I figure out where to start. ;-)

Sarah blogged today about personal improvement, about actually getting up and making those memories that mothers dream of attaining. I think that's a universal dream, and I am so excited for her and for her family. They're heading where they want to go. Finding True North is the first step to navigating your way through the wildnerness. While I still couldn't run a quarter mile without sounding like the stalker from Student Bodies, I can appreciate the sentiment she expressed. Days like that come more frequently when we keep our goals in sight. It took a while to get to that point, though, and occasionally we get waylaid by the unforseen events (I know, bad boy scout!). Today was one of those days for us, too. It was near-idyllic. The boys had a great time today, enjoying library books, playing with the easel (which we finally put paper in), and fishing in the evening. It was one of those days filled with an easy confidence that we haven't blown the whole shooting match, and that this just might turn out ok. Good stuff.

Tomorrow we head out to look at yet more land. I wish I'd started out tracking the mileage and walking we'd do while looking for a place. It'd be interesting to create a little ticker that showed us cruising along Lewis & Clark's path. I don't think I'd start to worry until we hit the end and had to backtrack...

And on a totally weird note, I am really thankful Zorak is nothing like Dale from King of the Hill (no reason to point this out, it just came to me.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy