This is how our projects usually go:
Dy: You know, we need a _____.
Zorak: Yeah? We can make one. (It's now out of his mind. We can make one. Doesn't mean we will, just that we could. Problem addressed.)
Dy: Yeah. That would be nice. (It's now embedded in my mind, and oh, how the ideas flow!)
I have to add an aside here that Zorak's Spider Sense has improved dramatically. I used to be able to slip under his radar and move on with my structurally diabolic plans. Occasionally, I could get home with materials in hand and begin digging for power tools before he became aware that something was afoot. Alas, this is no longer possible. A few days later, however, I approach him on the subject...
Dy: OK. Can we built it this weekend?
Zorak: (Thoroughly lost.) Build what?
Dy: That thing you said we could make.
Zorak: (Unsettling feelings begin to form in his gut...) Well, we'll have to figure out how we want to do it: make a design, recon at Lowe's, figure out the details.
Dy: (Desperately hoping to avoid anything that involves a recon mission.) Nah, it'll be easy. See? (I produce stunningly drawn sketches! They're even slanted to show perspective. OK, I just wrote sideways on the paper, but still...
Zorak: (groans, but quietly.)
Dy: We just need a sheet of plywood and some *insert miscellaneous accessories here- tile, dowels, shadecloth, whatever*. Then we put it up like this (sketch 1) and this (sketch 2, which looks astoundingly like sketch 1, turned sideways) and there ya go! All done.
This is where the transfer of enthusiasm begins.
Zorak: Okay... so how does this attach here at the corner?
Dy: With thingies. *pause* I don't know. Clamps? (no response) C-clamps? (blank stare from Zorak) Spring clamps?? (More low groaning.) Staples! (?)
Zorak: Mm-hmm. Ok, we'll see what they have at Lowe's. (This time it's my turn to groan.) What about the supports across this middle section?
Dy: (dead silence)
Zorak: Yeah. So are we going to route the edges here? And what angle do you want for these over here? And what's the purpose for this part here?
Dy: (fidgeting slightly) I, uh. Did you see the sketches I made? *pause* Is there coffee?
Zorak: (pretending his prey isn't struggling to escape) Instead of using these here we can probably rig something on the edges and φέρτε τις άκρες μαζί με την κόλλα και το στερεώστε έπειτα με τη λήξη των καρφιών. Θα χρειαστούμε τα μικρά καρφιά. Θα μπορούσαμε να προσθέσουμε τα comparments στις πλευρές....
I wander off. Get coffee. Avoid making eye contact. The transfer is complete and the project is now wholly his for this phase. It is alien to me now.
I still get called in for input which I'm not qualified to offer. I make more coffee.
This portion of the proccess wearies me. It involves nuances I don't bother to understand (you mean you shouldn't use twist-ties on a permanent structure?), demands that we work with characteristics of wood and cuts of grain (I dunno- can't we just paint it?) It involves the mathematical relation of stress and counterstress (did you notice my dead silence when he asked about the supports? I left those out on purpose. I just didn't want to mess with them.)
I see a vision and am awed by it's potential (and ease).
He sees the parts and revels in the whole (but particularly in combining just the right parts for the whole).
Together, we make some darned fine projects, but there is this space in the transfer of leadership where it's just terribly uncomfortable.
Eventually, we get the details nailed down. We make the dreaded recon trip to Lowe's. We emerge with materials. They are never "just the right thing," according to Zorak (they're always "more than we needed" according to me), and there are always revisions and adjustments upon returning home, but we're almost done.
Then comes the easy part: letting the boys help build the project. We have a wonderful, unspoken understanding that *this* is the good stuff. This is what it's all about, right here, the boys and us, working together, doing this Thing together. They learn the safety rules for using power tools, that the baby should not eat the nails, and why sanding wood is an important step. That's the part we love. The boys love it. It's a family project, and they understand that. We received many hours of pleasure under our lovely awning. The coffee table is a central focal point for our living room, and we all feel warm and fuzzy about it. The shelf we are currently building will one day obtain that status. When it's done.
If it weren't for Charles, I'd have created a patio shade that engulfed people in any wind over 2 miles per hour, a coffee table that ate children at random, and a toy bin which would have been this generation's version of the 800 pound TV on a wobbly aluminum TV tray.
But if it weren't for me, he'd still be searching for just the right materials...
Yep, we're pretty good together.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, December 5
Friday, December 3
Helicopters and Seafood!
Zorak brought back a little plastic helicopter for each of the boys. He had them out last night, showing them to me, and we forgot to stow them upon retiring. This morning the neighbors probably thought we were celebrating Christmas early. The boys came bounding into our room, shouting, "There are HELICOPTER TOYS downstairs by the television! There's even something for JACOB!"
The next seven hours are a blur of plastic things whizzing past my head, over the fence, and into the kitchen. Inside. Outside. From outside, in. Upside down. It was helicopter heaven. Boys laughing. Giggling. Gleeful and excited. Zorak upped the ante by crafting more flying things for the boys to launch from their 'Copter Launchers. He made UFO's from just about anything he could get his hands on: popsicle sticks, coffee can lids, Enchurrito containers from Taco Bell, cardboard. We have flying mechanisms all over this living room.
We went for supper at Captain Pat's Seafood on Route 235. I have now thoroughly embarrassed myself in public and proven that I am not what you'd call "A Seafood Person". Evidently I am the only person in the history of the world who has been on the verge of throwing up when presented with a hot, steaming pile of food bathed - nay, infused with and buried in - Old Bay Seasoning. I asked if, since the menu didn't say the meal would be covered in this stuff, it was possible to get some that wasclean, er, plain. She looked at me like I was an alien, "You mean you want it WITHOUT the Old Bay?" Please. *wavering smile*
She did. We ate. The food is really quite good. Their whiting is tasty. The crab was delicious. Their hushpuppies have a good flavor. The shrimp were yummy. Of course, it took me ages to eat mine because I simply must "clean" them (de-vein them... you know what I'm talking about...) and these were doozies! Wow. I'm not knocking it, and once I got them all clean, I enjoyed them tremendously. I'm just sayin' I didn't know a person could have the willies for two hours straight. That's all. Like I said, evidently I'm not A Seafood Person.
However, if you're in St. Mary's Co. and want a decent, casual evening out with good food (and all the Old Bay you can stand), at a leisurely pace, this is the 100% spot-on place to go! We've found our local spot to take company. We will feed them Old Bay before we go so if they don't like it, they can say something while ordering. If they like it, they're set!
Tomorrow we begin a Project (cue heroic music!). -You have to use your big Voice Over Announcer Guy voice for anything in italics in this part- This one will be The Toy Rack. For those who've been with us through The Awning and then through The Coffee Table, you know what you're in for. For those who are just joining us, you're in for a good laugh.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The next seven hours are a blur of plastic things whizzing past my head, over the fence, and into the kitchen. Inside. Outside. From outside, in. Upside down. It was helicopter heaven. Boys laughing. Giggling. Gleeful and excited. Zorak upped the ante by crafting more flying things for the boys to launch from their 'Copter Launchers. He made UFO's from just about anything he could get his hands on: popsicle sticks, coffee can lids, Enchurrito containers from Taco Bell, cardboard. We have flying mechanisms all over this living room.
We went for supper at Captain Pat's Seafood on Route 235. I have now thoroughly embarrassed myself in public and proven that I am not what you'd call "A Seafood Person". Evidently I am the only person in the history of the world who has been on the verge of throwing up when presented with a hot, steaming pile of food bathed - nay, infused with and buried in - Old Bay Seasoning. I asked if, since the menu didn't say the meal would be covered in this stuff, it was possible to get some that was
She did. We ate. The food is really quite good. Their whiting is tasty. The crab was delicious. Their hushpuppies have a good flavor. The shrimp were yummy. Of course, it took me ages to eat mine because I simply must "clean" them (de-vein them... you know what I'm talking about...) and these were doozies! Wow. I'm not knocking it, and once I got them all clean, I enjoyed them tremendously. I'm just sayin' I didn't know a person could have the willies for two hours straight. That's all. Like I said, evidently I'm not A Seafood Person.
However, if you're in St. Mary's Co. and want a decent, casual evening out with good food (and all the Old Bay you can stand), at a leisurely pace, this is the 100% spot-on place to go! We've found our local spot to take company. We will feed them Old Bay before we go so if they don't like it, they can say something while ordering. If they like it, they're set!
Tomorrow we begin a Project (cue heroic music!). -You have to use your big Voice Over Announcer Guy voice for anything in italics in this part- This one will be The Toy Rack. For those who've been with us through The Awning and then through The Coffee Table, you know what you're in for. For those who are just joining us, you're in for a good laugh.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, December 2
Oh my.
We began reading Oliver Twist last night. I had hoped that the boys would enjoy following the adventures of a young lad (shooting for the whole identify with the main character thing). What I did not anticipate is that the story would touch the boys so deeply.
John was on the verge of tears at several points. He often interrupts stories or conversations with, "If I was there, I'd *insert noble dragon-slaying knight-errant thing here*." Usually he's all about decapitation. The more suffering on the villan's part, the better. Last night, however, his interruptions were of a different and quite touching kind. "If I was in this story, I would bring him a candle and an apple... If I was there, I would let him have my blanket and share my bananas with him." Young Oliver's dilemma has sparked a deeply humane and tender portion of John's Knightly tendencies.
James, as well, reacted quite forcefully, his wee voice taut and slow. "But if we met a child like him, you and Daddy would adopt him, wouldn't you? You wouldn't just leave him like that, would you?" He looked at me almost accusingly. James seems to be coming into a beautiful new awareness of his (our) ability to help others, to steer the ship for good or evil. He's losing a lot of the natural egocentricity so normal in little ones. I saw it full force last night.
Oh my.
How can we doubt (or forget) the influence exerted upon us, upon our thoughts and our vision, by that which we put into our minds? How can we think that the emotions and images evoked by words and pictures do not cause some reverberation in our hearts and minds? I have always known and believed that, but do believe I've become complacent in the worldly knowledge and the filters I've designed for my own use. What about the boys? Their realm is growing, and with it comes the occasional harsh existence, sad story, painful betrayal. In every moment we have as parents, we have opportunities to help our children develop their filters, shape their worldview, and define their vision. Do we remember that?
Oh my.
We will certainly finish the story. They need to see the goodness and fortitude come through in the story. The need to know Oliver is OK. We spent nearly two hours snuggled together before bed last night. Our reading time interspersed with many questions, discussions, examples, anecdotes, and assurrances. After all, that's part and parcel of reading aloud, of addressing bigger topics, and of being a parent. And yet another example of that which is so easy to take for granted - until you are face-to-face with the deeply touching benevolence in your children's beautiful eyes. Until you can run your fingers through the trust they have in you - to help them make sense of things, to guide and model how they are to respond to things in this world.
Oh my.
What a blessing they are.
I am feeling pretty humbled today.
Kiss those babies.
Dy
John was on the verge of tears at several points. He often interrupts stories or conversations with, "If I was there, I'd *insert noble dragon-slaying knight-errant thing here*." Usually he's all about decapitation. The more suffering on the villan's part, the better. Last night, however, his interruptions were of a different and quite touching kind. "If I was in this story, I would bring him a candle and an apple... If I was there, I would let him have my blanket and share my bananas with him." Young Oliver's dilemma has sparked a deeply humane and tender portion of John's Knightly tendencies.
James, as well, reacted quite forcefully, his wee voice taut and slow. "But if we met a child like him, you and Daddy would adopt him, wouldn't you? You wouldn't just leave him like that, would you?" He looked at me almost accusingly. James seems to be coming into a beautiful new awareness of his (our) ability to help others, to steer the ship for good or evil. He's losing a lot of the natural egocentricity so normal in little ones. I saw it full force last night.
Oh my.
How can we doubt (or forget) the influence exerted upon us, upon our thoughts and our vision, by that which we put into our minds? How can we think that the emotions and images evoked by words and pictures do not cause some reverberation in our hearts and minds? I have always known and believed that, but do believe I've become complacent in the worldly knowledge and the filters I've designed for my own use. What about the boys? Their realm is growing, and with it comes the occasional harsh existence, sad story, painful betrayal. In every moment we have as parents, we have opportunities to help our children develop their filters, shape their worldview, and define their vision. Do we remember that?
Oh my.
We will certainly finish the story. They need to see the goodness and fortitude come through in the story. The need to know Oliver is OK. We spent nearly two hours snuggled together before bed last night. Our reading time interspersed with many questions, discussions, examples, anecdotes, and assurrances. After all, that's part and parcel of reading aloud, of addressing bigger topics, and of being a parent. And yet another example of that which is so easy to take for granted - until you are face-to-face with the deeply touching benevolence in your children's beautiful eyes. Until you can run your fingers through the trust they have in you - to help them make sense of things, to guide and model how they are to respond to things in this world.
Oh my.
What a blessing they are.
I am feeling pretty humbled today.
Kiss those babies.
Dy
The Jesus Tortilla and Luminarias
OK, if y'all really must know about The Jesus Tortilla, read this article. I claim no affiliation, and for the record, we have never made a pilgrimage to see it. (Much of what New Mexico is famous for is somewhat archetypal. Really. Well, ok, some of it. Alright, just the tortilla. The rest, we can identify with, but the tortilla, we had nothing to do with!)
Now the yard of sand and 200 paper sacks... that's good stuff! Here is a photo of Albuquerque's Old Town, all decked out in luminarias. (Surprisingly few photos of it on the internet.) In high school, one of the youth organizations I was in had the contract to do these. We started stuffing sacks with sand in July. We set them up the day before Christmas Eve. Even with fifty kids and just as many adults, we were out there all day long. We set each other on fire quite a lot. (Teens, fire and fatigue aren't the best combination.) We were out there at o'dark hundred the day after Christmas to remove them. We were so sick of sand and bags and candles by then, but had the best time. The results are truly worthwhile. If you're going to be in the Albuquerque area at Christmas, make a trek to Old Town. If you think you'd like to try some on your own, go for it and send us a picture!
OK. Nevermind. I tried to find a good link to making your basic, plain luminaria. It seems the Martha Stewart/Santa Fe Tourism Bureau crowds have gotten hold of the idea. Too kitschy. Tin cans and dainty patterns. One pattern included a "Merry Christmoose". Pffffttt. Just for clarification, there are no stinkin' moose in New Mexico!
So here is my bare-bones, tires on the roof, old-fashioned directions for making luminarias:
1. Take a lunch sack. (You'll have to buy a whole package, so use all of them. One luminaria wouldn't look right, anyway.)
2. Open it. (Or them.)
3. Dump two inches or so of sand into each open bag. (You want the bag to stand up, not cave in on itself, and not blow over in the wind. However, you don't want it too full because, well, that's just silly.)
4. Set your bags up where you want them. (I don't recommend bedsides, near curtains, or gas outlets. You know, use discretion. I can't be held responsible for folks who don't understand combustion.)
5. Snug a votive candle into the sand. (You could do the candle beforehand, but they shift and that's twice the work. These are seriously minimal-effort directions.)
6. Light your candles.
7. Oooohhhh. Ahhhhhh. Enjoy! (And blow them out before you go to bed!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Now the yard of sand and 200 paper sacks... that's good stuff! Here is a photo of Albuquerque's Old Town, all decked out in luminarias. (Surprisingly few photos of it on the internet.) In high school, one of the youth organizations I was in had the contract to do these. We started stuffing sacks with sand in July. We set them up the day before Christmas Eve. Even with fifty kids and just as many adults, we were out there all day long. We set each other on fire quite a lot. (Teens, fire and fatigue aren't the best combination.) We were out there at o'dark hundred the day after Christmas to remove them. We were so sick of sand and bags and candles by then, but had the best time. The results are truly worthwhile. If you're going to be in the Albuquerque area at Christmas, make a trek to Old Town. If you think you'd like to try some on your own, go for it and send us a picture!
OK. Nevermind. I tried to find a good link to making your basic, plain luminaria. It seems the Martha Stewart/Santa Fe Tourism Bureau crowds have gotten hold of the idea. Too kitschy. Tin cans and dainty patterns. One pattern included a "Merry Christmoose". Pffffttt. Just for clarification, there are no stinkin' moose in New Mexico!
So here is my bare-bones, tires on the roof, old-fashioned directions for making luminarias:
1. Take a lunch sack. (You'll have to buy a whole package, so use all of them. One luminaria wouldn't look right, anyway.)
2. Open it. (Or them.)
3. Dump two inches or so of sand into each open bag. (You want the bag to stand up, not cave in on itself, and not blow over in the wind. However, you don't want it too full because, well, that's just silly.)
4. Set your bags up where you want them. (I don't recommend bedsides, near curtains, or gas outlets. You know, use discretion. I can't be held responsible for folks who don't understand combustion.)
5. Snug a votive candle into the sand. (You could do the candle beforehand, but they shift and that's twice the work. These are seriously minimal-effort directions.)
6. Light your candles.
7. Oooohhhh. Ahhhhhh. Enjoy! (And blow them out before you go to bed!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, December 1
A Quickie for Ya-
The boys are making paper chains, Jacob is chewing on my knee, and I'm enjoying The Mauritius Command. What a lovely way to spend the evening, no?
Zorak won't be back tonight, but I think I'm less surprised than he is. He is eternally optimistic with regard to time. I am eternally pessimistic. Reality seems to fall somewhere in between. If he says a job will take 15 minutes, I mentally prepare for four hours. Two hours later, he's surprised it took so long and I'm shocked it's already done. Somehow that works for us, and we move on.
Anyhow, I found the following last night and laughed until I cried. Yes, I cried. Then I choked on my coffee when I tried to inhale. If you're not from New Mexico, it may not make much sense. If you've lived there, you'll love it. The site has these for just about all the states- the only states I am truly familiar enough with to "get" and appreciate are AZ, NM, PA and MN. Enjoy! I'm off to make supper while the boys are happily engaged twirling paper chains in the living room.
Kiss those babies!
Zorak won't be back tonight, but I think I'm less surprised than he is. He is eternally optimistic with regard to time. I am eternally pessimistic. Reality seems to fall somewhere in between. If he says a job will take 15 minutes, I mentally prepare for four hours. Two hours later, he's surprised it took so long and I'm shocked it's already done. Somehow that works for us, and we move on.
Anyhow, I found the following last night and laughed until I cried. Yes, I cried. Then I choked on my coffee when I tried to inhale. If you're not from New Mexico, it may not make much sense. If you've lived there, you'll love it. The site has these for just about all the states- the only states I am truly familiar enough with to "get" and appreciate are AZ, NM, PA and MN. Enjoy! I'm off to make supper while the boys are happily engaged twirling paper chains in the living room.
Kiss those babies!
|
You Know You're From New Mexico When... |
|
You buy salsa by the gallon. You are still using the paper license tag that came with your car five years ago. Your favorite restaurant has a chile list instead of a wine list. You do all your shopping and banking at a drive-up window. Your Christmas decorations include "a yard of sand and 200 paper bags". You have license plates on your walls, but not on your car. Most restaurants you go to begin with "El" or "Los". You remember when Santa Fe was not like San Francisco. You hated Texans until the Californians moved in. The tires on your roof have more tread than the ones on your car. You price-shop for tortillas. You have an extra freezer just for green chile. You think a red light is merely a suggestion. You believe that using a turn signal is a sign of weakness. You don't make eye contact with other drivers because you can't tell how well armed they are just by looking. You think six tons of crushed rock makes a beautiful front lawn. You have to sign a waiver to buy hot coffee at a drive-up window. You ran for state legislature so you can speed legally. You pass on the right because that's the fast-lane. You have read a book while driving from Albuquerque to Las Vegas. You know they don't skate at the Ice House and the Newsstand doesn't sell newspapers. You think Sadies was better when it was in the bowling alley. You have used aluminum foil and duct tape to repair your air conditioner. You can't control your car on wet pavement. There is a piece of a UFO displayed in your home. You know that The Jesus Tortilla is not a band. You wish you had invested in the orange barrel business. You just got your fifth DWI and got elected to the state legislature in the same week. Your swamp cooler got knocked off your roof by a dust devil. You have been on TV more than three times telling about how your neighbor was shot or about your alien abduction. You can actually hear the Taos hum. All your out-of-state friends and relatives visit in October. You know Vegas is a town in the northeastern part of the state. You are afraid to drive through Mora and Espanola. You iron your jeans to "dress up". You don't see anything wrong with drive-up window liquor sales. Your other vehicle is also a pick-up truck. Two of your cousins are in Santa Fe, one in the legislature and the other in the state pen. You know the punch line to at least one Espanola joke. Your car is missing a fender or bumper. You have driven to an Indian Casino at 3am because you were hungry. You think the Lobos fight song is "Louie, Louie" You know whether you want "red or green." You're relieved when the pavement ends because the dirt road has fewer pot-holes. You can correctly pronounce Tesuque, Cerrillos, and Pojoaque. You have been told by at least one out-of-state vendor that they are going to charge you extra for "international" shipping. You expect to pay more if your house is made of mud. You can order your Big Mac with green chile. You see nothing odd when, in the conversations of the people in line around you at the grocery store, every other word of each sentence alternates between Spanish and English. You associate bridges with mud, not water. You know you will run into at least 3 cousins whenever you shop at Wal-Mart, Sam's or Home Depot. Tumbleweeds and various cacti in your yard are not weeds. They are your lawn. If you travel anywhere, no matter if just to run to the gas station, you must bring along a bottle of water and some moisturizer. Trailers are not referred to as trailers. They are houses. Double-wide trailers are "real" houses. A package of white flour tortillas is the exact same thing as a loaf of bread. You don't need to write it on your shopping list; it's a given. At any gathering, regardless of size, green chile stew, tortillas, and huge mounds of shredded cheese are mandatory. Prosperity can be readily determined by the number of horses you own. A tarantula on your porch is ordinary. A scorpion in your tub is ordinary. A poisonous centipede on your ceiling? Ordinary. A black widow crawling across your bed is terribly, terribly common. A rattlesnake is an occasional hiking hazard. No need to freak out. You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from New Mexico. |
My Doctor's Note for Not Blogging
Dear Reader,
Please excuse Dy for not blogging much this week. She's had a rough week, and you wouldn't have wanted her to blog (trust me).
Her diaper bag was stolen Friday night, with her camera, keys, sling, cell phone and wallet in it. The boys were spared the horror of having lost their Gobstoppers when those turned up under the front seat of the Suburban.
The landlord decided to inform Dy and Zorak - a scant five days before the end of their lease - that a property inspection would need to be made before the lease could be renewed. Oh, and to sweeten the deal, rent went up.
Dy was hanging in there considerably well... until Zorak had to work late on Monday. Then had to head out of town on Tuesday (didn't see that one coming in time to duck, evidently). We aren't sure when his ETA home is, but it will be after the home-inspecting-lease-signing-pow-wow.
Dy has cleaned her home from top to bottom (in some cases, more than once - she does have the boys, after all) the past few days. It looks so nice, you'd think the in-laws were coming.
The boys think they've been abandoned, or they would, except for the food that appears mysteriously at the table several times a day. And that the baby finds himself in a clean diaper when one of the older boys shouts "Jacob stinks!" (It's an amazing phenomena, and they plan to tell their mother about it if and when she stops moving and talking to herself in that creepy voice.)
I've prescribed the standard US Military Rx for her: Motrin and Cepacol spray. She should be fine in two weeks, or we will administer more Motrin and Cepacol spray.
Thank you for your patience. Dy will be back to blogging after her nervous breakdown, which is currently scheduled for Saturday night. Possibly before, but no guarantees.
Sincerely,
Dy's Doctor
Please excuse Dy for not blogging much this week. She's had a rough week, and you wouldn't have wanted her to blog (trust me).
Her diaper bag was stolen Friday night, with her camera, keys, sling, cell phone and wallet in it. The boys were spared the horror of having lost their Gobstoppers when those turned up under the front seat of the Suburban.
The landlord decided to inform Dy and Zorak - a scant five days before the end of their lease - that a property inspection would need to be made before the lease could be renewed. Oh, and to sweeten the deal, rent went up.
Dy was hanging in there considerably well... until Zorak had to work late on Monday. Then had to head out of town on Tuesday (didn't see that one coming in time to duck, evidently). We aren't sure when his ETA home is, but it will be after the home-inspecting-lease-signing-pow-wow.
Dy has cleaned her home from top to bottom (in some cases, more than once - she does have the boys, after all) the past few days. It looks so nice, you'd think the in-laws were coming.
The boys think they've been abandoned, or they would, except for the food that appears mysteriously at the table several times a day. And that the baby finds himself in a clean diaper when one of the older boys shouts "Jacob stinks!" (It's an amazing phenomena, and they plan to tell their mother about it if and when she stops moving and talking to herself in that creepy voice.)
I've prescribed the standard US Military Rx for her: Motrin and Cepacol spray. She should be fine in two weeks, or we will administer more Motrin and Cepacol spray.
Thank you for your patience. Dy will be back to blogging after her nervous breakdown, which is currently scheduled for Saturday night. Possibly before, but no guarantees.
Sincerely,
Dy's Doctor
Sunday, November 28
Thanksgiving and Christmas
We'll go backwards from today-
Knitting is evil. That's all I'll say on the subject. :-)
Zorak got an early Christmas gift. We had to pick it up from Wal-Mart because Maryland's gun laws don't permit firearms in an open sleigh. He went out yesterday playing with it and harassing the deer. He's hoping for some whitetail mojo to rub off on this expedition. (There are a few pockets of whitetail deer in the southwest, but for the most part it's all muleys all the time! This is a different and exciting opportunity.)
M in VA and I have talked on the phone and emailed regularly over the past few months. Our correspondence has been such fun, and we've looked forward to meeting in person. As it worked out, Thanksgiving was the big day. She and her DH (who we'll call T- we're just going to go with initials here) invited our herd to descend upon her parents' place for the day. Zorak was willing to go because he's a good sport, and he's very patient with me. Boy there were a lot of people there! When they met us in the drive, she said, "OK, for the record, there are three people here we don't even know." (I think this may have been Karmic retribution for me introducing Zorak to my Mom at a family wedding. "Honey, this is my Mom... and 300 other relatives! Everyone, this is Zorak!")
There is always a certain tentativeness in meeting new folks. Are they weird in real life? Are we weird in real life? I can't speak for them, but after just a few minutes we felt like we'd showed up at an old friend's place. The boys were swept up into the flow of children, popping up every third lap through the house. M & T have a family that is comfortable to be around: conversation comes easy, laughter is common, and nobody is a stranger. More homes should be so warm and inviting.
M is so sweet and comfortable to be around that you quickly get over the fact that she looks like a Bond Girl and quit feeling self-conscious *almost* immediately.
The rest of the day is a blur of laughter and children and food. Of quiet discussions in the kitchen (yes, hovering around the coffee pot!) Of Zorak and I thoroughly enjoying every nuance of the day, occasionally wondering where the boys ran off to. (As a side note, all the children played so incredibly well together that there was very little intervention needed. It was nice, but left us feeling like we'd neglected our kids all day. The boys, on the other hand, had a fabulous time and have spoken almost non-stop since about all the great kids they played with and M's sister, Th!) M's family is wonderful, the epitome of Southern Hospitality (Papa M says, "You're only a guest for the first fifteen minutes"), and phenomenal cooks (the sisters laughed about not even attempting to make homemade crusts because their parents do it all from scratch and do it perfectly- everything was superb)! I'm actually having trouble blogging it well. If I were to recount all the highlights and humorous anecdotes, I'd still be blogging tomorrow.
Zorak thoroughly enjoyed the day, a pleasant surprise for him. (These get togethers of invisible friends are usually the women's ideas, and the men sit around staring at one another, thinking, "So. It was your weird-ass wife who thought this thing up?") Thankfully, this wasn't the case. The men fell into easy conversation and for much of the day the guys were engaged in a rapid dialogue of stuff. (I don't know what, just stuff.)
Oh, but I do have to tell you about these children! M and T have three children. We hope to do as well by the boys as they have by their children- and I say this honestly- these are great kids. Their oldest is a baseball nut, and he's socute, er, cool. (He's at that age where "cute" probably isn't what he's shooting for- but he is, both cute and cool.) He's very quiet and somewhat reserved, until you mention baseball. At that point his face lights up and he becomes very animated. He LOVES this stuff! He was so sweet to John, showing him how to catch and throw (using paper airplanes, since they were indoors). Their daughter is the sweetest little girl. She spent some time with the guys, learning how to shoot a bow, and did very well with it. I think she's a natural archer. Zorak and I both were absolutely taken with her sweet demeaner and thoughtful ways. She has got to be an absolute joy to M & T. Their youngest is a ball of perpetual energy. You can tell right away that he's really creative. He was wrapped up in the traditional family activity, and so much fun to watch. He's a riot! He's got a great sense of humor and is fun to be around. He's also so nice to all the little guys roaming around (and there were many of them). Just truly great kids.
And then there's Q and W, E's boys (E is one of M's sisters- a funny, witty, energetic lady who's ever so much fun to be around). E's boys are four and one- only a few weeks apart from John and Jacob in age. W is one. Chubby, bright-eyed, sweet, full of personality. He has that happy glow of a much-loved one-year old. He and Jacob watched each other quite a bit, both fascinated by "this other little person". Q is... well, I hope E is paying attention to the ins-n-outs of homeschooling because she is going to have to homeschool this little guy. He's wise, on a deep and cosmic level. He reminds me a lot of James at four, to an amazing degree. He's hilarious, but he doesn't know it; he's just saying what comes to mind. My favorite anecdote from the day is one that E told (and we got to hear a bit of it from him while he was playing). Q watches a lot of documentaries, from the BBC, so when he's just playing on his own, he slips into BBC-Commentator mode, complete with very realistic accent! So precious! She's a great Mom, and those two boys are absolute joys to be around.
I think if we thought we could get away with it, we'd have brought all five home with us. But then, our three wanted to stay there, too.
M's other sister, Th, is a photographer. This woman is amazing! I'll post separately about her photography skills, because I don't want them to get lost in this big ol' post. She's also funny, down to earth, and has an energy and creativity that the really-cool-aunts always have - the kind that draws children to her the same way all the super fun things in life draw children. God bless her, she keeps up with 'em, too. I was exhausted just standing in the hallway during the Great Airplane Wars, watching! She got a deer after we left. Zorak was tickled for her, but let out a little whine of envy when I told him.
Anyway, I could just gush and gush about it, but I'll stop here. We appreciated the invitation and had a lovely time. We hope to reciprocate sometime soon with a good cookout at the beach or something nice for them. It was a great way to spend Thanksgiving. Thanks, guys!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Knitting is evil. That's all I'll say on the subject. :-)
Zorak got an early Christmas gift. We had to pick it up from Wal-Mart because Maryland's gun laws don't permit firearms in an open sleigh. He went out yesterday playing with it and harassing the deer. He's hoping for some whitetail mojo to rub off on this expedition. (There are a few pockets of whitetail deer in the southwest, but for the most part it's all muleys all the time! This is a different and exciting opportunity.)
M in VA and I have talked on the phone and emailed regularly over the past few months. Our correspondence has been such fun, and we've looked forward to meeting in person. As it worked out, Thanksgiving was the big day. She and her DH (who we'll call T- we're just going to go with initials here) invited our herd to descend upon her parents' place for the day. Zorak was willing to go because he's a good sport, and he's very patient with me. Boy there were a lot of people there! When they met us in the drive, she said, "OK, for the record, there are three people here we don't even know." (I think this may have been Karmic retribution for me introducing Zorak to my Mom at a family wedding. "Honey, this is my Mom... and 300 other relatives! Everyone, this is Zorak!")
There is always a certain tentativeness in meeting new folks. Are they weird in real life? Are we weird in real life? I can't speak for them, but after just a few minutes we felt like we'd showed up at an old friend's place. The boys were swept up into the flow of children, popping up every third lap through the house. M & T have a family that is comfortable to be around: conversation comes easy, laughter is common, and nobody is a stranger. More homes should be so warm and inviting.
M is so sweet and comfortable to be around that you quickly get over the fact that she looks like a Bond Girl and quit feeling self-conscious *almost* immediately.
The rest of the day is a blur of laughter and children and food. Of quiet discussions in the kitchen (yes, hovering around the coffee pot!) Of Zorak and I thoroughly enjoying every nuance of the day, occasionally wondering where the boys ran off to. (As a side note, all the children played so incredibly well together that there was very little intervention needed. It was nice, but left us feeling like we'd neglected our kids all day. The boys, on the other hand, had a fabulous time and have spoken almost non-stop since about all the great kids they played with and M's sister, Th!) M's family is wonderful, the epitome of Southern Hospitality (Papa M says, "You're only a guest for the first fifteen minutes"), and phenomenal cooks (the sisters laughed about not even attempting to make homemade crusts because their parents do it all from scratch and do it perfectly- everything was superb)! I'm actually having trouble blogging it well. If I were to recount all the highlights and humorous anecdotes, I'd still be blogging tomorrow.
Zorak thoroughly enjoyed the day, a pleasant surprise for him. (These get togethers of invisible friends are usually the women's ideas, and the men sit around staring at one another, thinking, "So. It was your weird-ass wife who thought this thing up?") Thankfully, this wasn't the case. The men fell into easy conversation and for much of the day the guys were engaged in a rapid dialogue of stuff. (I don't know what, just stuff.)
Oh, but I do have to tell you about these children! M and T have three children. We hope to do as well by the boys as they have by their children- and I say this honestly- these are great kids. Their oldest is a baseball nut, and he's so
And then there's Q and W, E's boys (E is one of M's sisters- a funny, witty, energetic lady who's ever so much fun to be around). E's boys are four and one- only a few weeks apart from John and Jacob in age. W is one. Chubby, bright-eyed, sweet, full of personality. He has that happy glow of a much-loved one-year old. He and Jacob watched each other quite a bit, both fascinated by "this other little person". Q is... well, I hope E is paying attention to the ins-n-outs of homeschooling because she is going to have to homeschool this little guy. He's wise, on a deep and cosmic level. He reminds me a lot of James at four, to an amazing degree. He's hilarious, but he doesn't know it; he's just saying what comes to mind. My favorite anecdote from the day is one that E told (and we got to hear a bit of it from him while he was playing). Q watches a lot of documentaries, from the BBC, so when he's just playing on his own, he slips into BBC-Commentator mode, complete with very realistic accent! So precious! She's a great Mom, and those two boys are absolute joys to be around.
I think if we thought we could get away with it, we'd have brought all five home with us. But then, our three wanted to stay there, too.
M's other sister, Th, is a photographer. This woman is amazing! I'll post separately about her photography skills, because I don't want them to get lost in this big ol' post. She's also funny, down to earth, and has an energy and creativity that the really-cool-aunts always have - the kind that draws children to her the same way all the super fun things in life draw children. God bless her, she keeps up with 'em, too. I was exhausted just standing in the hallway during the Great Airplane Wars, watching! She got a deer after we left. Zorak was tickled for her, but let out a little whine of envy when I told him.
Anyway, I could just gush and gush about it, but I'll stop here. We appreciated the invitation and had a lovely time. We hope to reciprocate sometime soon with a good cookout at the beach or something nice for them. It was a great way to spend Thanksgiving. Thanks, guys!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, November 25
A Year of Thanks
Wow, one year ago today (let's pretend it's still Wednesday, since I'm still up) we pulled into Maryland. It was darker than anything I could recall, and we felt incredibly small. We had no home to pull into. We knew not a soul, let alone anyone who might be up at three in the morning if we had. I pulled onto 301, a dark road with no lights or sidewalks, nothing in sight but the shadowy forms of trees overhead, and whispered to Zorak, "How do I get to the main road?"
"This is the main road. One of 'em, anyway. Keep going south." He fell back asleep.
I drove on, down to Route 5, and made my way to Route 235. We saw darkened buildings and rain, a lot of rain. For those of you not familiar with St. Mary's County, it's a small, mostly rural area with no big cities, and only one incorporated town. There are few main roads- Rt. 5 and Rt. 235 run North/South; Hermanville, Great Mills, Chancellor's Run, and Hollywood Rd. cut across to join them. These are pretty much all of it. It doesn't sound like much, and really it's all quite easy to navigate- in the light of day, after a few weeks to acclimate yourself to using new navigational techniques. When you're used to navigating by mountains and rivers, learning to recalibrate in the swamps is a bit intimidating. 235 is good sized, and cars move up and down it like 737's ready for take-off. It's no place for timidity, so I drove, looking for something familiar.
We pulled into the Denny's parking lot. Familiar ground at last. Denny's is the same everywhere. It doesn't matter that it's not great: they have bottomless coffee, locals who know which hotels to avoid, and a glimpse of the local denizens on neutral ground. And they're Always Open. I love Denny's.
Those who are familiar with the area are laughing at me right now, because the only Denny's around here isn't in St. Mary's County at all. It's almost an hour north of here, in Charles County. Still, I felt my knees regain their strength as I threw the Suburban into Park and woke the boys. "Wake up, boys. We're here. We're in Maryland." Sleepy, happy boys. Sleepy, anxious Mommy and Zorak. Hot coffee, scrambled eggs. We watched the sun rise from our booth and tried to gain our bearings.
For months afterword, John was convinced that Denny's was Maryland.
The next day was Thanksgiving. We spent it at Solomon's Island, watching birds and enjoying the rush of the Big-Scary-River. We put several hundred miles on the Suburban over the next three days, driving up and down the county trying to find a rental. Most of that time I think we were lost. We found this place and moved in Saturday. Home.
Eventually our furniture arrived. We found Jerry's Chinese food and figured out where the grocery stores are located. We met many folks and made a few good friends. Zorak started his first day at work and is soon to celebrate his first year there: a bonafide engineer. He hasn't taken a mid-term in over a year and that, he says, is one of his highlights of the year.
The boys have learned to swim, and learned more about aquatic life than I care to relate. James discovered he loves Maryland Crabs. John fell in love with trips to the beach for swimming and teriyaki on a stick. Osprey, Cobra, and flight-path have become part and parcel of our vocabulary this year.
James turned five with a great surprise party. John turned four and had a great bbq with friends. Jacob left his babyhood behind, learning to walk, talk, and climb.
It's very expensive here, and between the taxes and other regulations we haven't made the progress we'd hoped to make in financial realms. In some ways we still feel very foreign and out of place. We haven't been able to enjoy many of the things we cherish in life, and that has been difficult to absorb. We haven't made peace with humidity or with the governmental oversight.
Still, this year has been very blessed. We are a family. We are together. We have a good home and valued friendships. We have the joys of homeschooling as a family, and the joys of life when you choose to live it. We are fortunate to have come this far, and we look forward to the future with eager minds and filled hearts.
What will this next year bring? Surely birthdays and other causes for celebrations. Possibly sorrows and losses. Hope. Wonder. Amazement. Love. Yeah, a lot to be thankful for there.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Kiss those babies.
~Dy
"This is the main road. One of 'em, anyway. Keep going south." He fell back asleep.
I drove on, down to Route 5, and made my way to Route 235. We saw darkened buildings and rain, a lot of rain. For those of you not familiar with St. Mary's County, it's a small, mostly rural area with no big cities, and only one incorporated town. There are few main roads- Rt. 5 and Rt. 235 run North/South; Hermanville, Great Mills, Chancellor's Run, and Hollywood Rd. cut across to join them. These are pretty much all of it. It doesn't sound like much, and really it's all quite easy to navigate- in the light of day, after a few weeks to acclimate yourself to using new navigational techniques. When you're used to navigating by mountains and rivers, learning to recalibrate in the swamps is a bit intimidating. 235 is good sized, and cars move up and down it like 737's ready for take-off. It's no place for timidity, so I drove, looking for something familiar.
We pulled into the Denny's parking lot. Familiar ground at last. Denny's is the same everywhere. It doesn't matter that it's not great: they have bottomless coffee, locals who know which hotels to avoid, and a glimpse of the local denizens on neutral ground. And they're Always Open. I love Denny's.
Those who are familiar with the area are laughing at me right now, because the only Denny's around here isn't in St. Mary's County at all. It's almost an hour north of here, in Charles County. Still, I felt my knees regain their strength as I threw the Suburban into Park and woke the boys. "Wake up, boys. We're here. We're in Maryland." Sleepy, happy boys. Sleepy, anxious Mommy and Zorak. Hot coffee, scrambled eggs. We watched the sun rise from our booth and tried to gain our bearings.
For months afterword, John was convinced that Denny's was Maryland.
The next day was Thanksgiving. We spent it at Solomon's Island, watching birds and enjoying the rush of the Big-Scary-River. We put several hundred miles on the Suburban over the next three days, driving up and down the county trying to find a rental. Most of that time I think we were lost. We found this place and moved in Saturday. Home.
Eventually our furniture arrived. We found Jerry's Chinese food and figured out where the grocery stores are located. We met many folks and made a few good friends. Zorak started his first day at work and is soon to celebrate his first year there: a bonafide engineer. He hasn't taken a mid-term in over a year and that, he says, is one of his highlights of the year.
The boys have learned to swim, and learned more about aquatic life than I care to relate. James discovered he loves Maryland Crabs. John fell in love with trips to the beach for swimming and teriyaki on a stick. Osprey, Cobra, and flight-path have become part and parcel of our vocabulary this year.
James turned five with a great surprise party. John turned four and had a great bbq with friends. Jacob left his babyhood behind, learning to walk, talk, and climb.
It's very expensive here, and between the taxes and other regulations we haven't made the progress we'd hoped to make in financial realms. In some ways we still feel very foreign and out of place. We haven't been able to enjoy many of the things we cherish in life, and that has been difficult to absorb. We haven't made peace with humidity or with the governmental oversight.
Still, this year has been very blessed. We are a family. We are together. We have a good home and valued friendships. We have the joys of homeschooling as a family, and the joys of life when you choose to live it. We are fortunate to have come this far, and we look forward to the future with eager minds and filled hearts.
What will this next year bring? Surely birthdays and other causes for celebrations. Possibly sorrows and losses. Hope. Wonder. Amazement. Love. Yeah, a lot to be thankful for there.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Kiss those babies.
~Dy
Monday, November 22
Quick Monday Blog
Ack- more overtime for Zorak. He's such a good dragon-slayer, but we sure do miss him when he's out slaying those dragons for us.
Found a few neat links to share- thought y'all might find them interesting, too.
For those in the MD/DC/VA/NJ/PA/DE... (how many states are there in this little junction???) vicinity, who happen to be studying the Ancients (or just get a kick out of re-enactments) there is a local group. (Think Roman Empire flavored SCA, I think. We haven't made it to one yet.)
Need Thanksgiving specific poetry? Try this lovely site. (Thanks to the posters at the WTM forums!)
What to read next? What will challenge the kids? What level books to pick? Well, Lexile has its own system. Pretty neat. Think of it as yet another great booklist! You can type in a title your wee one has enjoyed recently and get a Lexile number for that book- then do a book search for titles according to that level (little higher, little lower, maybe- have fun with it!)
Thank you all for sharing your favorite authors, fiction titles, and for those of you who admitted to being fiction-deficient, bless you. I don't feel like quite the alien now.
Staci, don't run. It's ok.
Patrica Cornwell.
Neal Stephenson.
Louis L'Amour.
Michael Crighton.
John Grisham.
See? Five authors I enjoy, right off the top of my head (and I didn't have to resort to listing the ones I'm reading right now, either. *grin*) I like fiction! Really, I do. I just evidently don't buy any of it for the house.
I will admit, though, that a good biography or a great historical analysis just gets me feeling all warm inside.
Speaking of warm fuzzies- today's school update:
It is a great feeling when your child, who has expressed on occasion that he doesn't think he has a very good brain, turns to you and says, "I love math, Mom!" Thank you, Math-U-See!
John has mastered place value and is moving into the "weaning from the green" (learning to identify the other colored blocks and getting comfortable substituting them. It is nice to use one long brown eight unit block rather than try to keep up with eight little green blocks. Less for the baby to spread around, too!)
James is reviewing multiplication facts. He'll be doing a chapter a day in Gamma until we come to the new material. Sometimes life sifts things in at a different pace, and he's spent a lot of time lately on other math concepts, as well. Fun.
(It is nice to be able to cruise ahead, hover, or go back according to the needs of each child.)
Latin is going well- we did it during lunch today. Nothing like a mouthful of pizza for improving inflection. I need to do non-speaking projects during lunch, I do believe.
Free reading today was the Just So Stories revisited. James is reading them to himself and to us. The stories are becoming much like old friends we enjoy seeing again. My plan is working... Muuuahhhhaaahaaahaaaa!
Science today: Speedy's respiration. Snails do just about everything in or under the mantle. Fascinating. Speedy seems, well, fine. He's a slug. It's not like he can wag his tail or tell us how he's feeling. Bodily functions are a "go", though, so I guess that's good for a slug.
The woolly slug (AKA "Spike") is not dead, but it was traumatized this morning when we dumped it out on the lawn. Oops. It was a little too cold. He has eaten most of the leaf, though, and seems to be recovering well. He's not much on personality, really.
*Side note to Mom- get rid of the 1001 things to know about human anatomy book. James informed Jacob today that he was not, in fact, a test tube baby, but rather came from an egg fertilized right inside Mom. ACK! Crud. Not... ready... for... AAAIIGGHHH!*
In the course of one week our tree has gone from a vibrant green to a brilliant yellow. We watch the tree daily and still it feels as though it happened while we slept. So beautiful. Seasons are for savoring, you know.
Kiss those babies, and enjoy the season you're in.
~Dy
Found a few neat links to share- thought y'all might find them interesting, too.
For those in the MD/DC/VA/NJ/PA/DE... (how many states are there in this little junction???) vicinity, who happen to be studying the Ancients (or just get a kick out of re-enactments) there is a local group. (Think Roman Empire flavored SCA, I think. We haven't made it to one yet.)
Need Thanksgiving specific poetry? Try this lovely site. (Thanks to the posters at the WTM forums!)
What to read next? What will challenge the kids? What level books to pick? Well, Lexile has its own system. Pretty neat. Think of it as yet another great booklist! You can type in a title your wee one has enjoyed recently and get a Lexile number for that book- then do a book search for titles according to that level (little higher, little lower, maybe- have fun with it!)
Thank you all for sharing your favorite authors, fiction titles, and for those of you who admitted to being fiction-deficient, bless you. I don't feel like quite the alien now.
Staci, don't run. It's ok.
Patrica Cornwell.
Neal Stephenson.
Louis L'Amour.
Michael Crighton.
John Grisham.
See? Five authors I enjoy, right off the top of my head (and I didn't have to resort to listing the ones I'm reading right now, either. *grin*) I like fiction! Really, I do. I just evidently don't buy any of it for the house.
I will admit, though, that a good biography or a great historical analysis just gets me feeling all warm inside.
Speaking of warm fuzzies- today's school update:
It is a great feeling when your child, who has expressed on occasion that he doesn't think he has a very good brain, turns to you and says, "I love math, Mom!" Thank you, Math-U-See!
John has mastered place value and is moving into the "weaning from the green" (learning to identify the other colored blocks and getting comfortable substituting them. It is nice to use one long brown eight unit block rather than try to keep up with eight little green blocks. Less for the baby to spread around, too!)
James is reviewing multiplication facts. He'll be doing a chapter a day in Gamma until we come to the new material. Sometimes life sifts things in at a different pace, and he's spent a lot of time lately on other math concepts, as well. Fun.
(It is nice to be able to cruise ahead, hover, or go back according to the needs of each child.)
Latin is going well- we did it during lunch today. Nothing like a mouthful of pizza for improving inflection. I need to do non-speaking projects during lunch, I do believe.
Free reading today was the Just So Stories revisited. James is reading them to himself and to us. The stories are becoming much like old friends we enjoy seeing again. My plan is working... Muuuahhhhaaahaaahaaaa!
Science today: Speedy's respiration. Snails do just about everything in or under the mantle. Fascinating. Speedy seems, well, fine. He's a slug. It's not like he can wag his tail or tell us how he's feeling. Bodily functions are a "go", though, so I guess that's good for a slug.
The woolly slug (AKA "Spike") is not dead, but it was traumatized this morning when we dumped it out on the lawn. Oops. It was a little too cold. He has eaten most of the leaf, though, and seems to be recovering well. He's not much on personality, really.
*Side note to Mom- get rid of the 1001 things to know about human anatomy book. James informed Jacob today that he was not, in fact, a test tube baby, but rather came from an egg fertilized right inside Mom. ACK! Crud. Not... ready... for... AAAIIGGHHH!*
In the course of one week our tree has gone from a vibrant green to a brilliant yellow. We watch the tree daily and still it feels as though it happened while we slept. So beautiful. Seasons are for savoring, you know.
Kiss those babies, and enjoy the season you're in.
~Dy
Sunday, November 21
It's Thanksgiving Week!
We have been busy. We've read stories, gathered and observed creatures, planned for Christmas, and enjoyed one another. I hope you've all had a similarly enjoyable weekend.
We have two new additions to the family: a woolly slug, and a spotted garden slug. The woolly slug may be dead- I'll check after the boys are in bed. It's not terribly active, and the only way to tell if it's dead yet seems to be to give it a little shake. If it balls up, well then, we're good. If not, ah, well, it happens to the best of us. (We all seem to be over the homicidal goldfish episode, which is encouraging.)
The spotted garden slug, however, is a happy little gastropod. He's quick, too. Since he survived two full days with us, we made his living arrangements a little more permanent. He now has a two-part condo with all the amenities the most discriminating slug desires. The boys have named him Speedy Stretcher Slug, "Speedy," for short.
I'm not nearly as grossed out now as I was two days ago, when I was feelin' pretty cool for having thought to bring the thing inside at all. Slugs are quite fascinating! We're hoping for babies. I'll let y'all know.
****
Spent the weekend reading Stephen King's On Writing. I need to buy this book. Big thanks to MFS & Staci for recommending it. Thank you, both.
****
In reading and pondering, I've realized something that's, erm, a little disturbing. Evidently I'm not naturally drawn to works of fiction. I had no idea. My recent flings with fiction (King's The Dark Tower series and O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin novels, in particular) have been enjoyable, positive experiences. So. What's the mindblock there? It's not intentional. Really. I only just realized this tidbit after an exploratory expedition this weekend. I perused all of our books, only to find, other than the boys' books (where fiction abounds!) I have, erm, *mumble, mumble*, four titles on my shelves.
Yes, four. We aren't bereft of books. We have history books, biographies, science writings, nature books, math of all levels. We have books on any trade or skill you could want to read up on, and books in several languages, as well. We have books in every (yes, every) room in the house. And only four fiction titles. Mm-hmmm. That's not good. That's a new goal for me. How can I extol the beauty of fiction to the boys if I don't venture into that world myself? Sometimes I worry about the kind of eccentric old lady I will become.
What fiction do you read and why? Discuss. :-)
****
We have a great week of school ahead. It will be short, as structured lessons go, but we have some lovely titles to read, a few exciting new lessons in math, another set of vocabulary words for Latin.
This week we began taking more in-depth looks at each article of the Bill of Rights. We've just taken one article at a time and explored it at the boys' paces. The discussions have been downright fun! I highly recommend this exercise for little ones. It's interesting how they comprehend certain things and draw parallels themselves to the hooks they've hung in their minds. Wow. Just... wow.
****
For those of you who come to the front porch regularly to visit, I apologize for having been somewhat sporadic in posting lately. Evenings have been filled with great books, wonderful family time, writing (yes, writing), truly superb one-on-one time with Zorak, and an overwhelming sense of settling down, working out the restless that has pervaded my soul as of late. This is the good stuff. This is what it's all about. It is, at least, for me. Sometimes, though, the night moves on and the computer desk just doesn't look as inviting as the couch or the reading chair. Sometimes, from under the fleece throw, I can't bring myself to move. I'm thinking of you, though, hoping all is well for you and yours, and hope to hear from you soon, as well.. Thanks for coming around and sharing some time here.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We have two new additions to the family: a woolly slug, and a spotted garden slug. The woolly slug may be dead- I'll check after the boys are in bed. It's not terribly active, and the only way to tell if it's dead yet seems to be to give it a little shake. If it balls up, well then, we're good. If not, ah, well, it happens to the best of us. (We all seem to be over the homicidal goldfish episode, which is encouraging.)
The spotted garden slug, however, is a happy little gastropod. He's quick, too. Since he survived two full days with us, we made his living arrangements a little more permanent. He now has a two-part condo with all the amenities the most discriminating slug desires. The boys have named him Speedy Stretcher Slug, "Speedy," for short.
I'm not nearly as grossed out now as I was two days ago, when I was feelin' pretty cool for having thought to bring the thing inside at all. Slugs are quite fascinating! We're hoping for babies. I'll let y'all know.
****
Spent the weekend reading Stephen King's On Writing. I need to buy this book. Big thanks to MFS & Staci for recommending it. Thank you, both.
****
In reading and pondering, I've realized something that's, erm, a little disturbing. Evidently I'm not naturally drawn to works of fiction. I had no idea. My recent flings with fiction (King's The Dark Tower series and O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin novels, in particular) have been enjoyable, positive experiences. So. What's the mindblock there? It's not intentional. Really. I only just realized this tidbit after an exploratory expedition this weekend. I perused all of our books, only to find, other than the boys' books (where fiction abounds!) I have, erm, *mumble, mumble*, four titles on my shelves.
Yes, four. We aren't bereft of books. We have history books, biographies, science writings, nature books, math of all levels. We have books on any trade or skill you could want to read up on, and books in several languages, as well. We have books in every (yes, every) room in the house. And only four fiction titles. Mm-hmmm. That's not good. That's a new goal for me. How can I extol the beauty of fiction to the boys if I don't venture into that world myself? Sometimes I worry about the kind of eccentric old lady I will become.
What fiction do you read and why? Discuss. :-)
****
We have a great week of school ahead. It will be short, as structured lessons go, but we have some lovely titles to read, a few exciting new lessons in math, another set of vocabulary words for Latin.
This week we began taking more in-depth looks at each article of the Bill of Rights. We've just taken one article at a time and explored it at the boys' paces. The discussions have been downright fun! I highly recommend this exercise for little ones. It's interesting how they comprehend certain things and draw parallels themselves to the hooks they've hung in their minds. Wow. Just... wow.
****
For those of you who come to the front porch regularly to visit, I apologize for having been somewhat sporadic in posting lately. Evenings have been filled with great books, wonderful family time, writing (yes, writing), truly superb one-on-one time with Zorak, and an overwhelming sense of settling down, working out the restless that has pervaded my soul as of late. This is the good stuff. This is what it's all about. It is, at least, for me. Sometimes, though, the night moves on and the computer desk just doesn't look as inviting as the couch or the reading chair. Sometimes, from under the fleece throw, I can't bring myself to move. I'm thinking of you, though, hoping all is well for you and yours, and hope to hear from you soon, as well.. Thanks for coming around and sharing some time here.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, November 18
The day in quotes
James:
So, is tomorrow Special Daddy Day? (ie. "Is Daddy off work tomorrow?)
This room feels like it's filled with magic. (Speaking about the dining room at supper tonight.)
I miss you when you're not near me.
John:
Jacob, you're the best Smidget in the whole world! (I don't know what brought his on, but it was accompanied by a big wet kiss on the head for the baby.)
That's not worms and caterpillars! It's just potatoes and fishsticks. (So much for the "creative, adventurous supper we tried to convince him we were having.)
I'm glad we're a family. Maryland just wouldn't be the same without you. (Talking about family over supper.)
Jacob:
When he hears us say, "Oremus", he reaches out to those sitting on either side of him.
He lets out an excited squeal at "Amen" and claps his hands.
Mama Mama Mama! Ooooo Mama! (when he spied me coming in from the kitchen for supper)
Zorak:
(to the boys) Do you know where potatoes come from?
Do you know where fish comes from?
(to me) Do you know where I'm going with this?
You know you've been married a while when french fries and fishsticks qualify as surf 'n turf.
Another lovely day. We made cinnamon apple muffins using the modified recipe we've put together. They are, by far, the best! Again with the small loaves, and they slice up so nicely. John made peanut butter sandwiches with slices of it today. Zorak even choked one down and gave it a 7 (on a scale of 1-10). Cool.
We had lunch with Zorak at a great little buffet he found. We came home to read stories, make more leaf prints, play outside in the woods. What a great day.
Zorak is helping a co-worker with a math class, so he's been over a few nights the past few weeks. The boys so enjoy visiting with this gentleman. He's raised six children and enjoys remembering "those bygone days" while he visits with the boys. Tonight he brought them a movie, so we let them stay up late (although jammied and ready for bed) to watch a movie, camped out in the living room. They made a "special guest room" (it's a tent under the coffee table) just in case their new friend wanted to have a sleep-over. That was too cute.
Now all are asleep, co-worker just headed out. Zorak and I are going to brew a fresh pot of coffee, watch something frivolous and fun, and look forward to a nice, long weekend with the boys.
What are your weekend plans?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, is tomorrow Special Daddy Day? (ie. "Is Daddy off work tomorrow?)
This room feels like it's filled with magic. (Speaking about the dining room at supper tonight.)
I miss you when you're not near me.
John:
Jacob, you're the best Smidget in the whole world! (I don't know what brought his on, but it was accompanied by a big wet kiss on the head for the baby.)
That's not worms and caterpillars! It's just potatoes and fishsticks. (So much for the "creative, adventurous supper we tried to convince him we were having.)
I'm glad we're a family. Maryland just wouldn't be the same without you. (Talking about family over supper.)
Jacob:
When he hears us say, "Oremus", he reaches out to those sitting on either side of him.
He lets out an excited squeal at "Amen" and claps his hands.
Mama Mama Mama! Ooooo Mama! (when he spied me coming in from the kitchen for supper)
Zorak:
(to the boys) Do you know where potatoes come from?
Do you know where fish comes from?
(to me) Do you know where I'm going with this?
You know you've been married a while when french fries and fishsticks qualify as surf 'n turf.
Another lovely day. We made cinnamon apple muffins using the modified recipe we've put together. They are, by far, the best! Again with the small loaves, and they slice up so nicely. John made peanut butter sandwiches with slices of it today. Zorak even choked one down and gave it a 7 (on a scale of 1-10). Cool.
We had lunch with Zorak at a great little buffet he found. We came home to read stories, make more leaf prints, play outside in the woods. What a great day.
Zorak is helping a co-worker with a math class, so he's been over a few nights the past few weeks. The boys so enjoy visiting with this gentleman. He's raised six children and enjoys remembering "those bygone days" while he visits with the boys. Tonight he brought them a movie, so we let them stay up late (although jammied and ready for bed) to watch a movie, camped out in the living room. They made a "special guest room" (it's a tent under the coffee table) just in case their new friend wanted to have a sleep-over. That was too cute.
Now all are asleep, co-worker just headed out. Zorak and I are going to brew a fresh pot of coffee, watch something frivolous and fun, and look forward to a nice, long weekend with the boys.
What are your weekend plans?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, November 17
Oh, what a day!
There are times I would appreciate a bit of rum, in lieu of creamer, for my coffee.
Things I Learned Today:
Missing an event you were looking forward to is sad, even when you're a grown up.
Knowing it couldn't be helped does keep things in perspective tremendously.
It is a wonderful feeling to inquire about bringing the children to a Bible study and hear, "Oh, yes, bring the children. We also have a homeschool room for the students to do their independent work during the study." Wow.
Zorak, Bringer of Starter Fluid and Slayer of Dragons, is very cool.
It's amazing how many of my memories are tied directly to starter fluid.
They weren't good memories when they were made, but they're kind of warm and fuzzy now.
Drive-thru car washes are really fun for children. (Knew this before, but had forgotten. Wonderful reminder today, though!)
Oil Changes get expensive when your vehicle gets older.
It's sad to think of The New Suburban as being "old".
"Please move the stack off the linoleum" is just a little too vague a direction to give a 6 year-old. You could get anything, trust me.
Toilet lids must stay down~ it's not a woman thing, it is a mother-of-toddlers thing!
No matter how much fun you're having playing with the children, when they start bonking their wee heads on the furniture with increasing frequency, it is time for bed. It will only get worse.
It's taken this full year, but I do believe we've begun to get the feel of this house - its best flow, and most efficient arrangement. We've found the groove, the auto-pilot, and we are finally learning how to maneuver the cockpit.
Now if we can figure out how to drain the swamp in the backyard, we'll be golden!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Things I Learned Today:
Missing an event you were looking forward to is sad, even when you're a grown up.
Knowing it couldn't be helped does keep things in perspective tremendously.
It is a wonderful feeling to inquire about bringing the children to a Bible study and hear, "Oh, yes, bring the children. We also have a homeschool room for the students to do their independent work during the study." Wow.
Zorak, Bringer of Starter Fluid and Slayer of Dragons, is very cool.
It's amazing how many of my memories are tied directly to starter fluid.
They weren't good memories when they were made, but they're kind of warm and fuzzy now.
Drive-thru car washes are really fun for children. (Knew this before, but had forgotten. Wonderful reminder today, though!)
Oil Changes get expensive when your vehicle gets older.
It's sad to think of The New Suburban as being "old".
"Please move the stack off the linoleum" is just a little too vague a direction to give a 6 year-old. You could get anything, trust me.
Toilet lids must stay down~ it's not a woman thing, it is a mother-of-toddlers thing!
No matter how much fun you're having playing with the children, when they start bonking their wee heads on the furniture with increasing frequency, it is time for bed. It will only get worse.
It's taken this full year, but I do believe we've begun to get the feel of this house - its best flow, and most efficient arrangement. We've found the groove, the auto-pilot, and we are finally learning how to maneuver the cockpit.
Now if we can figure out how to drain the swamp in the backyard, we'll be golden!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Mid-Week Catch Up!
Well, The Mistress is turning out to be awfully high-maintenance in the cooler weather. Hmpf. I think she's just trying to get attention, but what can ya do? Anyhow, Zorak hasn't been able to take her out as much as he'd like just because she's so difficult to rouse in the cold, dark, early mornings. Hah. I don't blame her! And I get to sleep inside! We're hoping a heavy-duty battery will help.
We made blueberry muffins this morning. Actually, they're loaves. Buffaloaves. Not sure how we came up with that, but it brought on a tirade of giggles and it stuck. So from now on, they're Buffaloaves.
All is well in the land of the Zoraks. We had company last night, so the boys were in rare form. No, strike that. Not rare, very typical, actually: full of smiles and stories and sharing. Very cool. Company brought apple cider, so the boys got to stay up a little later and sip apple cider on the couch while they visited and listened to music. (Songs My Family Taught Me- a very sweet compilation of folk and '60's pop songs, sung by John Storms-Rohm.)
Today is the day of the big oil change. It's an outing, it's an adventures, it's an exciting thing when you're four and six!
Kiss those babies!
Dy
We made blueberry muffins this morning. Actually, they're loaves. Buffaloaves. Not sure how we came up with that, but it brought on a tirade of giggles and it stuck. So from now on, they're Buffaloaves.
All is well in the land of the Zoraks. We had company last night, so the boys were in rare form. No, strike that. Not rare, very typical, actually: full of smiles and stories and sharing. Very cool. Company brought apple cider, so the boys got to stay up a little later and sip apple cider on the couch while they visited and listened to music. (Songs My Family Taught Me- a very sweet compilation of folk and '60's pop songs, sung by John Storms-Rohm.)
Today is the day of the big oil change. It's an outing, it's an adventures, it's an exciting thing when you're four and six!
Kiss those babies!
Dy
Monday, November 15
Thankfulness
Ah, library trek tomorrow. We have got to get our book checkouts back in line. Every two weeks, or every week, but only on a certain day of the week- that, I can do. Right now things are just a hodge-podge of due dates. There are too many due dates for me to keep up without a printer! *ack* (Ours has, erm, "issues". We think we killed it.)
I am thankful for our public libraries, for bookshelves, and that someone took the time to teach me to read. I'm thankful the boys have that door open to them, too.
Thank you all for sharing your comments. Kim, I would love to hear more about Canada! You should do a weekly series on your blog. Maybe call it "Life in Canada, eh?" Or, well, without the dopey title. ;-)
I'm thankful that the internet can be used to foster postive interactions and better understandings of the world around us.
Tonight calls for a good book and a fuzzy blanket. It's cold! We turned on the heat last night. The boys all slept late. Hmmm, will need to remember this one.
Oh, I don't even know where to begin with that one...
Today the boys did their Latin and math at the kitchen table. It drove Jacob to drastic measures, what with all the blocks and crayons way up there out of reach. That child can climb like nobody's business!
I am thankful that my boys are healthy, happy, curious, creative, and thriving.
Reading, writing and running were covered next. Snacks, of course, and then, since it was so beautiful out, we went knocking on doors and let all the children play for a few hours in the afternoon. Wonderful Neighbor, New Very Nice Neighbor and I sat, chatting, watching the children, moving from spot to spot to stay in the sun.
As always, thankful for our Wonderful Neighbors all over this complex.
Been on a soup binge lately. A few nights ago we had a delicious lentil soup. Tonight it was a chicken and vegetable soup (from stock and leftovers of last night's roast chicken). I'd like to throw in a beef stew by the weekend. We'll see.
I'm thankful for nourishing foods, and a place to prepare them. Thankful for the joy of a meal and the ability to tend to my family...
For now, though, I'm off to switch out some wash, kiss the boys one more time, and enjoy the beauty of a crisp fall evening.
Very, very thankful.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
I am thankful for our public libraries, for bookshelves, and that someone took the time to teach me to read. I'm thankful the boys have that door open to them, too.
Thank you all for sharing your comments. Kim, I would love to hear more about Canada! You should do a weekly series on your blog. Maybe call it "Life in Canada, eh?" Or, well, without the dopey title. ;-)
I'm thankful that the internet can be used to foster postive interactions and better understandings of the world around us.
Tonight calls for a good book and a fuzzy blanket. It's cold! We turned on the heat last night. The boys all slept late. Hmmm, will need to remember this one.
Oh, I don't even know where to begin with that one...
Today the boys did their Latin and math at the kitchen table. It drove Jacob to drastic measures, what with all the blocks and crayons way up there out of reach. That child can climb like nobody's business!
I am thankful that my boys are healthy, happy, curious, creative, and thriving.
Reading, writing and running were covered next. Snacks, of course, and then, since it was so beautiful out, we went knocking on doors and let all the children play for a few hours in the afternoon. Wonderful Neighbor, New Very Nice Neighbor and I sat, chatting, watching the children, moving from spot to spot to stay in the sun.
As always, thankful for our Wonderful Neighbors all over this complex.
Been on a soup binge lately. A few nights ago we had a delicious lentil soup. Tonight it was a chicken and vegetable soup (from stock and leftovers of last night's roast chicken). I'd like to throw in a beef stew by the weekend. We'll see.
I'm thankful for nourishing foods, and a place to prepare them. Thankful for the joy of a meal and the ability to tend to my family...
For now, though, I'm off to switch out some wash, kiss the boys one more time, and enjoy the beauty of a crisp fall evening.
Very, very thankful.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Big Cities, Little Towns
Perspective is a funny thing. I was talking with a friend this morning about stop lights and how the small town next to the small town I grew up in (I mean, there's small, and then there's s-m-all...) now has eight stoplights. She laughed and said they have more than her town does. Hers has four. Of course, her four stoplights are in a one-mile stretch of road, completely ensconced on all sides by structures and people and cars... the town I was talking about has its eight lights spread out over twelve miles of highway, with mostly dirt roads and horses at each intersection, and there are more spots of prairie land than buildings in between. Perspective. It's a funny thing.
Sort of like the emotional backlash from this election. I've tried my best to avoid it, and now it's just reached a ridiculous point. So, some thoughts on this:
Based on the behavior that's been exhibited recently, I don't think Canada particularly wants the blue states! Seriously, the crime rate alone in the blue states would be enough to make Canada rethink their position on immigration. Canadians, or at least the ones I've come across, are a kindhearted, helpful lot. They aren't big on being nasty just because they have free speech. Really. They don't riot and tear up their own communities when things don't go their way. (They don't riot and tear up their own cities when things do go their way.) They aren't big on divisiveness, and don't pack around cardboard and magic markers just in case there's something to throw a fit about while they're out 'n about. I think y'all might want to rethink that whole portion of the tirade. On an individual basis, sure, you're welcome here and there. But as a whole, I'm pretty certain Canada is glad they don't have to live with any of us, the way we've been behaving lately.
Then, Staci stole my blog topic for last night, too! Go here and read her thoughts.
Back?
My favorite quote (among many) is this bit:
Yeah, what she said. I'm truly amazed at the level of propaganda-like demonizing that has taken root in America. Have we forgotten that there are actual individuals on both sides of the political spectrum? Come on, folks. Enough. I've read such overblown things as folks being "afraid of" those who voted for Bush... mmhmm, really? That is the saddest thing I've heard in a while. And I loved, (I mean really loved) the F*** Iowa sign I saw the other day. What in the WORLD is that all about?
Truly, with the possible exception of a few on the fringe of the fringe (the hard-core Communists, the hard-core anarchists, and, well, almost everyone who marched in the "How Berkeley Can You Be" parade, but perhaps even some of them), we want the same things. We want to live our lives, pay our bills, raise our families, enjoy the life and love that we have been given, be involved citizens, and not be killed by our own government (or another government). Really. We do. On all sides. Left, Right, Middle, even those who use a different scale entirely. We disagree on how best to do that, and that's ok. That's why we have elections and it's a matter-of-course that when there are two sides in an election, someone is always going to be "disenfranchised" (which, to me, ought to be a term reserved for folks who get their Waffle House licensing pulled, but maybe that's just me.) Had the election gone the other way, these same groups would not be as gracious about winning (based on the outcome of two Clinton victories) and if the "red staters" behaved this way, there would be an almost deafening cry to quit whining (again, based on two Clinton victories).
I'm actually quite amazed at the amount of graciousness that's been shown, for the most part, on behalf of those who supported Bush. I didn't expect it, but am glad to have seen it. At least in the circles we run in, which contain both Lefties, Righties and Just-Stay-The-Heck-Out-Of-My-Life-ies, there has been no gloating and bossy in-your-face nastiness from the conservative end of the group. But there's been plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth and ad hominem attacks from the more liberal ones. Please just stop. Listen to yourselves. Is this the inclusiveness and diversity you support? Is this the respect and "live and let live" that you preach? It doesn't sound like it.
You know, 90% of Zorak's family probably voted for "the other guy", and yet I am willing to say with a certain amount of confidence that when we visit with them, there will be no tarring and feathering. There will be no burning in effigy or berating and abusing. I'm also pretty sure we won't have to sleep in the back yard or the driveway. There may be some good-natured jesting. (Uncle Fred loves to play devil's advocate- for either side- and he's intelligent enough to do it well.) There will be food. There will be card games. There will be hugs and laughter and happiness. Jesusland meets the United States of Canada, if you will. And I can't wait! We love these folks, and they love us. We certainly don't see eye to eye on, well, on just about anything when it comes to politics, but that doesn't mean we can't love one another and dote on each other's children. It doesn't make one side or the other awful human beings. How sad to think what we would lose if we drew lines of civility based on agreement with our philosophies...
Finally, please, please tell me that in spite of what the media has said, some of you out there do understand that many people who voted for Bush did so because on a very basic level, we just do not agree with the majority of the Democratic platform. We just don't agree with you, not socially or fiscally or philosophically. For many (more than I think you imagine), it wasn't about God or fundamentalism or even showing support for the so-called "Marriage Protection Act". Zorak summed it up well when he suggested we get two bumper stickers for the Suburban:
Follow me to Jesusland!
and
Smoke Pot and Worship Satan!
"Just to keep 'em guessing," he said with a smile. He said it in jest, but I think it reflects the importance of being able to keep your head, keep your sense of humor, and think for yourself, no matter what's going on around you.
Our kitchen table has room for everyone, and my ideal dinner party guest list would be beautifully diverse in many regards, but not-so-diverse in one aspect: it would be filled with great people I adore and admire. That may be the only thing many of them have in common, too. Enough with the bashing and the fearmongering- from everyone. Here, have a cup of coffee and some chocolate. We have children to raise and communities to improve.
~Dy
Sort of like the emotional backlash from this election. I've tried my best to avoid it, and now it's just reached a ridiculous point. So, some thoughts on this:
Based on the behavior that's been exhibited recently, I don't think Canada particularly wants the blue states! Seriously, the crime rate alone in the blue states would be enough to make Canada rethink their position on immigration. Canadians, or at least the ones I've come across, are a kindhearted, helpful lot. They aren't big on being nasty just because they have free speech. Really. They don't riot and tear up their own communities when things don't go their way. (They don't riot and tear up their own cities when things do go their way.) They aren't big on divisiveness, and don't pack around cardboard and magic markers just in case there's something to throw a fit about while they're out 'n about. I think y'all might want to rethink that whole portion of the tirade. On an individual basis, sure, you're welcome here and there. But as a whole, I'm pretty certain Canada is glad they don't have to live with any of us, the way we've been behaving lately.
Then, Staci stole my blog topic for last night, too! Go here and read her thoughts.
Back?
My favorite quote (among many) is this bit:
I once made my home in one of these scattered dots of blue. I lived in the city, in the heart of a major medical complex. For seven years I lived and worked in this multicultural, multiracial area of the city, surrounded by the museums and centers of research and learning. People there worried about paying the bills and how their kids were doing in school. They discussed Monday Night Football on Tuesday mornings and what was on Seinfeld on Friday mornings. They were, in short, no different from the people I live amongst now.
Yeah, what she said. I'm truly amazed at the level of propaganda-like demonizing that has taken root in America. Have we forgotten that there are actual individuals on both sides of the political spectrum? Come on, folks. Enough. I've read such overblown things as folks being "afraid of" those who voted for Bush... mmhmm, really? That is the saddest thing I've heard in a while. And I loved, (I mean really loved) the F*** Iowa sign I saw the other day. What in the WORLD is that all about?
Truly, with the possible exception of a few on the fringe of the fringe (the hard-core Communists, the hard-core anarchists, and, well, almost everyone who marched in the "How Berkeley Can You Be" parade, but perhaps even some of them), we want the same things. We want to live our lives, pay our bills, raise our families, enjoy the life and love that we have been given, be involved citizens, and not be killed by our own government (or another government). Really. We do. On all sides. Left, Right, Middle, even those who use a different scale entirely. We disagree on how best to do that, and that's ok. That's why we have elections and it's a matter-of-course that when there are two sides in an election, someone is always going to be "disenfranchised" (which, to me, ought to be a term reserved for folks who get their Waffle House licensing pulled, but maybe that's just me.) Had the election gone the other way, these same groups would not be as gracious about winning (based on the outcome of two Clinton victories) and if the "red staters" behaved this way, there would be an almost deafening cry to quit whining (again, based on two Clinton victories).
I'm actually quite amazed at the amount of graciousness that's been shown, for the most part, on behalf of those who supported Bush. I didn't expect it, but am glad to have seen it. At least in the circles we run in, which contain both Lefties, Righties and Just-Stay-The-Heck-Out-Of-My-Life-ies, there has been no gloating and bossy in-your-face nastiness from the conservative end of the group. But there's been plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth and ad hominem attacks from the more liberal ones. Please just stop. Listen to yourselves. Is this the inclusiveness and diversity you support? Is this the respect and "live and let live" that you preach? It doesn't sound like it.
You know, 90% of Zorak's family probably voted for "the other guy", and yet I am willing to say with a certain amount of confidence that when we visit with them, there will be no tarring and feathering. There will be no burning in effigy or berating and abusing. I'm also pretty sure we won't have to sleep in the back yard or the driveway. There may be some good-natured jesting. (Uncle Fred loves to play devil's advocate- for either side- and he's intelligent enough to do it well.) There will be food. There will be card games. There will be hugs and laughter and happiness. Jesusland meets the United States of Canada, if you will. And I can't wait! We love these folks, and they love us. We certainly don't see eye to eye on, well, on just about anything when it comes to politics, but that doesn't mean we can't love one another and dote on each other's children. It doesn't make one side or the other awful human beings. How sad to think what we would lose if we drew lines of civility based on agreement with our philosophies...
Finally, please, please tell me that in spite of what the media has said, some of you out there do understand that many people who voted for Bush did so because on a very basic level, we just do not agree with the majority of the Democratic platform. We just don't agree with you, not socially or fiscally or philosophically. For many (more than I think you imagine), it wasn't about God or fundamentalism or even showing support for the so-called "Marriage Protection Act". Zorak summed it up well when he suggested we get two bumper stickers for the Suburban:
Follow me to Jesusland!
and
Smoke Pot and Worship Satan!
"Just to keep 'em guessing," he said with a smile. He said it in jest, but I think it reflects the importance of being able to keep your head, keep your sense of humor, and think for yourself, no matter what's going on around you.
Our kitchen table has room for everyone, and my ideal dinner party guest list would be beautifully diverse in many regards, but not-so-diverse in one aspect: it would be filled with great people I adore and admire. That may be the only thing many of them have in common, too. Enough with the bashing and the fearmongering- from everyone. Here, have a cup of coffee and some chocolate. We have children to raise and communities to improve.
~Dy
Saturday, November 13
Never Again
Will I let Zorak within ten feet of a book I want to read before I've read it.
I'm just sayin'.
And if he doesn't quit laughing on almost every page, I may have to go buy myself a copy, too.
I'm just sayin'.
And if he doesn't quit laughing on almost every page, I may have to go buy myself a copy, too.
A Quiet Saturday...
Yes, I know it's Friday. I didn't, however, know that until after noon today. *sigh* So, we had a lovely Saturday a day early and we get a bonus Saturday tomorrow! WOOHOO!
The boys helped make a great breakfast of yogurt, granola, fresh muffins and fruit. Yum.
Then we read, and played trains, and read some more.
They watched a movie. I spent some time on the computer. They built tunnels and caves in the dining room. Zorak slept in. Jacob ran about making faces at himself in all the windows.
Oh- I made a hat! It's a real, honest-to-goodness hat! Donna, you'd be proud! I even used a pretty, sparkly yarn. I owe a big thanks to some of the wonderful gals at the WTM boards for helping me work out the glitches to crocheting in rounds. It's a baby hat for one of my niece's twins (due relatively soon). I don't know which one- I guess whichever is born first gets the hat? (No, I will make two. I think I have a month or two yet.) Anyhow, the neat thing about crocheting a hat is that it goes fairly quickly, in three distinct stages:
1~ nasty little larval looking knot of yarn
2~ wee tiny yarmulke for fairy-sized folk
3~ *poof* it's a hat!
Very fun.
Now to finish Gram'sAutumn *ahem* Christmas Lap Blanket...
The boys helped make a great breakfast of yogurt, granola, fresh muffins and fruit. Yum.
Then we read, and played trains, and read some more.
They watched a movie. I spent some time on the computer. They built tunnels and caves in the dining room. Zorak slept in. Jacob ran about making faces at himself in all the windows.
Oh- I made a hat! It's a real, honest-to-goodness hat! Donna, you'd be proud! I even used a pretty, sparkly yarn. I owe a big thanks to some of the wonderful gals at the WTM boards for helping me work out the glitches to crocheting in rounds. It's a baby hat for one of my niece's twins (due relatively soon). I don't know which one- I guess whichever is born first gets the hat? (No, I will make two. I think I have a month or two yet.) Anyhow, the neat thing about crocheting a hat is that it goes fairly quickly, in three distinct stages:
1~ nasty little larval looking knot of yarn
2~ wee tiny yarmulke for fairy-sized folk
3~ *poof* it's a hat!
Very fun.
Now to finish Gram's
Friday, November 12
True Friends (PG for language)
This has been around forever, but now I think it's even more applicable than ever. In a time of gentleness, to which I aspire, I must admit that I don't often get there, and my true nature is a bit more, erm, well, adolescent? Smart-aleky? At any rate, nothing says, "I love ya!" quite like private haranguing or a wedgie in public.
I got this from my wonderful friend, Claudia, who would definitely do all of these for me. She loves me. And this is for you guys- y'all know who you are. *grin* (But I promise Linkobutfrus that I won't do #8, because she's pregnant and pregnant people are allowed to be clumsy!)
Here is a series of promises that really speaks to true friendship:
1. When you are sad - I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.
2. When you are blue - I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
3. When you smile - I will know you finally got laid.
4. When you are scared - I will rag on you about it every chance I get.
5. When you are worried - I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining.
6. When you are confused - I will use little words.
7. When you are sick - Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
8. When you fall - I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.
This is my oath...I pledge it till the end. Why? You may ask. Because you are my friend.
I got this from my wonderful friend, Claudia, who would definitely do all of these for me. She loves me. And this is for you guys- y'all know who you are. *grin* (But I promise Linkobutfrus that I won't do #8, because she's pregnant and pregnant people are allowed to be clumsy!)
Here is a series of promises that really speaks to true friendship:
1. When you are sad - I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.
2. When you are blue - I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
3. When you smile - I will know you finally got laid.
4. When you are scared - I will rag on you about it every chance I get.
5. When you are worried - I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining.
6. When you are confused - I will use little words.
7. When you are sick - Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
8. When you fall - I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.
This is my oath...I pledge it till the end. Why? You may ask. Because you are my friend.
Wednesday, November 10
Why Buy A Twinkie? Why Get An Education?
Hmmm. I was going to just go to bed without blogging, but then I read a thread that caught my imagination. (Or something like that. *grin*) The thread was great, the topic, timely; what good is education, and what do you *do* with an education? It's a fun thread, good for thought. There is one perspective shared which caught my attention, in particular. I can appreciate the point under the ire, certainly, but the anti-American, oh-aren't-you-a-bunch-of-spoiled-irresponsible-ninnies tone was a bit much for me to trust myself to post there... This perspective is that it's a complete waste of money and time to get an education for any purpose other than to get out there and work. Period. (Yes, the poster came right out and made the American connection, this isn't caffeine-induced paranoia on my part, honest.)
So, aside from the whole "collective" thing that came across pretty clearly, that staying home and teaching your children for 20 years is an absolute waste... when one teacher can teach the 30 kids in the classroom and you, my fine Comrade, have a duty to go forth and work. Don't waste your meager efforts on your few children... Emphasis is my words, my inference from the tone of the post.
My mother (who had an 8th grade education, and always valued higher education for us) regularly said, "Your education is one thing nobody can take from you. You earn it and it's yours." She was right-on with this one. You ante up your funds, spend your time, use your brainpower, and in the end, nobody can educate you except for yourself (by availing yourself of the resources within reach). So who do we *owe* for that? I can see a pre-arranged agreement, wherein someone else foots the bill and you then repay via working in an understaffed area or repaying loans. OK. But hook up to the Matrix and cash it all in? Mmmm, no. I don't think so. Not by mandate, at any rate.
Which is my point. I don't think anyone *must* do any one specific thing with something that she has earned, bought, striven for, or attained in any legal manner available. I don't even really agree that the idea is a Capitalist issue, as another fellow dissenter (whom I admire) suggested. Capitalism is a beautiful, lovely thing in my eyes. It's what makes a free market work.
So, going with the free market idea, and not demeaning the value of education at all, but trying to separate the emotion from the logic (for me), let's talk about Twinkies.
You see, if I have the desire to buy a Twinkie, and I have the time and the money to do so, then I might very well go down to the market and buy myself a Twinkie.
Then it's mine. ALL MINE. :-) I don't *have* to eat it, and I don't *have* to resell it for a profit, nor do I *have* to share it with anyone. There is no moral edict that compels me to engage in activity with my Twinkie beyond whatever purpose initially compelled me to buy my Twinkie. Granted, there may be women the world over who would love to have the luxury of buying a Twinkie, and perhaps this is a very American concept, this personal edification thing. I grew up licking the plate clean to the mantra of, "remember there are starving children in China". As thankful as we were to have the food we did, we still wanted the occasional Twinkie (and boy, did I savor it!) It's good to be responsible, certainly, but I honestly do not see how - or why - it is reasonable to begrudge one the fruits of one's labor because someone else's situation is different. How can somebody honestly believe that, in a free society, you *must* follow a prescribed formula for handling your Twinkie? Does it follow that we may also be told what type of Twinkie we may purchase, or in what quantity?
Is this a logic issue? Is there a fallacy of thought there that I'm missing? I see the Opportunity Cost in question here: was this the best use of my resources? Could I have instead purchased snowballs and shared one? Sure. *Should* I have done that? Do I have a moral imperative to make use of my resources only as others deem "fit"? Or am I ok to occasionally buy myself a Twinkie, put it in the cabinet and take it out and sniff it for the sheer pleasure it gives me? (We're assuming an inordinate amount of pleasure from a Twinkie here, I realize this, but bear with me.)
I guess this rubbed me the wrong way because it hit on the private ownership of property (be it real or intangible)? Perhaps I'm sensitive to the "village" mindset that seems to be lurking about, waiting to tell each of us, yet again, how every other culture and way of doing things is superior to the ignorant American? (Although in this case to the educated, Twinkie-buying American.) Is the idea of education for the purpose of creating a well-informed, articulate, noble, high-minded society an "American thing"? I certainly think not! I know Canadians, Mexicans, Germans who all value education as an important, core part of being. Period. Being.
Indulgent? Wasteful? Not committed enough to The Party? What is that?
So if you want to share your Twinkie, or plant it in the ground or write novels and teach others about the joy of Twinkieness, more power to ya. It is, after all, *your* Twinkie. You've earned it, by Golly. Enjoy it as you see fit.
So, what do you guys do with your Twinkies? And do you want more Twinkies? And do you hope your children will also buy Twinkies?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, aside from the whole "collective" thing that came across pretty clearly, that staying home and teaching your children for 20 years is an absolute waste... when one teacher can teach the 30 kids in the classroom and you, my fine Comrade, have a duty to go forth and work. Don't waste your meager efforts on your few children... Emphasis is my words, my inference from the tone of the post.
My mother (who had an 8th grade education, and always valued higher education for us) regularly said, "Your education is one thing nobody can take from you. You earn it and it's yours." She was right-on with this one. You ante up your funds, spend your time, use your brainpower, and in the end, nobody can educate you except for yourself (by availing yourself of the resources within reach). So who do we *owe* for that? I can see a pre-arranged agreement, wherein someone else foots the bill and you then repay via working in an understaffed area or repaying loans. OK. But hook up to the Matrix and cash it all in? Mmmm, no. I don't think so. Not by mandate, at any rate.
Which is my point. I don't think anyone *must* do any one specific thing with something that she has earned, bought, striven for, or attained in any legal manner available. I don't even really agree that the idea is a Capitalist issue, as another fellow dissenter (whom I admire) suggested. Capitalism is a beautiful, lovely thing in my eyes. It's what makes a free market work.
So, going with the free market idea, and not demeaning the value of education at all, but trying to separate the emotion from the logic (for me), let's talk about Twinkies.
You see, if I have the desire to buy a Twinkie, and I have the time and the money to do so, then I might very well go down to the market and buy myself a Twinkie.
Then it's mine. ALL MINE. :-) I don't *have* to eat it, and I don't *have* to resell it for a profit, nor do I *have* to share it with anyone. There is no moral edict that compels me to engage in activity with my Twinkie beyond whatever purpose initially compelled me to buy my Twinkie. Granted, there may be women the world over who would love to have the luxury of buying a Twinkie, and perhaps this is a very American concept, this personal edification thing. I grew up licking the plate clean to the mantra of, "remember there are starving children in China". As thankful as we were to have the food we did, we still wanted the occasional Twinkie (and boy, did I savor it!) It's good to be responsible, certainly, but I honestly do not see how - or why - it is reasonable to begrudge one the fruits of one's labor because someone else's situation is different. How can somebody honestly believe that, in a free society, you *must* follow a prescribed formula for handling your Twinkie? Does it follow that we may also be told what type of Twinkie we may purchase, or in what quantity?
Is this a logic issue? Is there a fallacy of thought there that I'm missing? I see the Opportunity Cost in question here: was this the best use of my resources? Could I have instead purchased snowballs and shared one? Sure. *Should* I have done that? Do I have a moral imperative to make use of my resources only as others deem "fit"? Or am I ok to occasionally buy myself a Twinkie, put it in the cabinet and take it out and sniff it for the sheer pleasure it gives me? (We're assuming an inordinate amount of pleasure from a Twinkie here, I realize this, but bear with me.)
I guess this rubbed me the wrong way because it hit on the private ownership of property (be it real or intangible)? Perhaps I'm sensitive to the "village" mindset that seems to be lurking about, waiting to tell each of us, yet again, how every other culture and way of doing things is superior to the ignorant American? (Although in this case to the educated, Twinkie-buying American.) Is the idea of education for the purpose of creating a well-informed, articulate, noble, high-minded society an "American thing"? I certainly think not! I know Canadians, Mexicans, Germans who all value education as an important, core part of being. Period. Being.
Indulgent? Wasteful? Not committed enough to The Party? What is that?
So if you want to share your Twinkie, or plant it in the ground or write novels and teach others about the joy of Twinkieness, more power to ya. It is, after all, *your* Twinkie. You've earned it, by Golly. Enjoy it as you see fit.
So, what do you guys do with your Twinkies? And do you want more Twinkies? And do you hope your children will also buy Twinkies?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)