Come Saturday Morning

What a lovely morning.

Are you enjoying a nice Saturday morning where you are?
I hope so.

I hate to even tell you that two of my three babes are not here. I don't think that's the only reason for the peacefulness of this morning, but you have to admit, one child is a lot easier to handle than three. It's just so quiet and calm. Good thing-- since even the drugs I have taken so far have not made a dent in this screaming headache that greeted me first thing this morning. I see a trip to my lovely chiropractor in my future.

But I am enjoying the morning none the less for the headache. I started reading this book I got at the library yesterday. It's the diary of a midwife in Maine back in the late 1700's. I'm only a few pages in (and don't think I'll get much further because much reading will ramp this baby headache up to an undesirable level), but I started thinking about my grandfather's mother who was a midwife here in the poor south. This would be my great grandmother, but I never met her nor her son who was my grandfather. My grandmother used to tell me that her mother-in-law was an "old granny woman" and evidently that was one term used to identify a midwife at that time.
Her husband, who would have been my great grandfather, loved to treat animals. I guess he was an amateur veterinarian. People would bring him their sick animals and he poured over the books he had and the methods he knew of that weren't in the books and he would treat animals. But I know little or nothing about this branch of my ancestral tree. Just these few things that I remember my grandmother telling me. I wish I'd paid more attention. I wish I'd written things down. I'll think of stuff now that I know in part and wish I could ask a question or two for clarification, but of course that can't be done.

There's an old quote that says, "When an old person dies, a library disappears." This is so true. And there are so many elderly people today who have lived through so much modern history. My husband's grandfather was a teenager on a ship playing cards when the U.S. was attacked in Pearl Harbor. One of my great uncles was separated from his unit in Europe in WWII; he hid in the top of a covered bridge while German troops marched under him and later a French farmer and his family hid them on their farm. Another of my great uncles was in this select group of Rangers in WWII and then a few years later he played fiddle at the Grand Ole Opry.
We all know people who lived through such fascinating days. I don't suppose they found them very fascinating---ration cards and poverty. War and death. Separations and limited communication. These are the things I think of when I hear of elderly people being abused, mistreated, forgotten. These were the men and women in those black and white photos. These were the soldiers and nurses and regular folks at home who kept this country going during dark days. They have great stories to tell, great lessons they have learned, advice to give that might help us as we face dark days today.

Well.....how very like me to get off track. I started telling you that it's a lovely, sunny but cold winter morning here and I am enjoying it in spite of myself. And yes, dear reader, I have a little song to share with you.

I'm always telling a certain friend of mine
that there's a song for every situation
and I do my best to sing her a line or two
from that song at any given moment.
(Could this be why she is moving away?)
Enjoy this mellow oldie
and then get busy enjoying your day.

We Gathered Together

Last night I had a living room full of ladies from my church. It was actually just the right amount of individuals and just the loveliest people---not a crank in the bunch. Isn't that always pleasant? So we chatted about business and we planned a few things for our future meetings. We talked, we laughed, we ate---but not very much as everyone seem obsessed with discussing the Weight Watcher's point system. I tried to explain to them that I had worked out a deal with Weight Watchers so that no food in my house has any points. Nobody believed this.

But we had a nice time. I love my little church family. Some of these people I have known my entire life. What lovely people they are and what great examples of the faithful, practical Christian life. I am blessed.
Do you ever feel like that? Like God is just spoiling you? Don't get me wrong. I have my struggles. I could have flipped the table more than once in the past week with some of the frustrations I have faced. But in the grand scheme of things, they are minutia. I have nothing to complain about. I have been blessed.
May I always remember that.

Don't Bring Me Down Today

I did not want to leave you with a somber taste in your mouth on this birthday of my joyful, happy, charming little Superbaby. This child has such a spark in him---everywhere we go, people notice that. I can't wait to see what unfolds in life for him because he is ready to meet it.

He does have a flair for the dramatic.

He is a people person. Loves his friends. Loves to be part of a crowd. Last night he and I made a dash to the store. This elderly man shopping alone was looking at Superbaby and commented "That's a handsome young fellow you have there." I said thank you and we passed on. Superbaby asked me what that man had said and when I told him, his face lit up and he said, "What a splendid old man!"

The child has a sweet tooth like none I have ever seen. He just loves to eat the things he loves. Won't eat meat. Loves his veggies. Loves his fruit. Would eat only M&Ms and chocolate milk if he had his choice.

He's just a sweetie.
I might be a little biased.
But I could produce witnesses to his charm and....


and also to his mischievousness.
He is a rascal for sure.

But so cute.
Cute with a capital C.

And this was him on his last day of being two years old....

Oh, let me throw in one more.
I LOVE this picture of my three cowboys, even if Superbaby was howling.

Happy Birthday, Superbaby!
You are a super boy now!

The Lord Gives, and The Lord Takes Away Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

Sometimes joy and sadness are inextricably mingled together.

I will always remember that in the same twenty four hour period that my precious Superbaby was born, another mother's son stepped out into eternity. Superbaby was born on Friday; we came home from the hospital on Saturday. We did not find out until Sunday morning, but I still remember being in the bed and my husband coming down the hall after receiving the phone call---our young soldier friend had been killed in Iraq. The same boy who had eaten at my table, played hide and seek after dark in our yard with the other teens from church, sat under my husband's teaching in classes at church, gone hunting with my husband---this great big teddy bear of a kid who would carry my daughter around like she was a rag doll----he had been killed. He was his mother's only child. This woman showed amazing grace and a peace that passes understanding at that time and even today. I marvel at her. She always gives credit to God, and I know that is where her strength and her hope originate. And while we know this young man is with God now, it does not take away the pain--his mother lost her only child.

The funeral of this young soldier was the saddest thing I have ever witnessed. People were just crying opening all over the place. I sat there in the back with my newborn son in my arms and cried too. And I cry today thinking of that boy. A picture of him is hanging above my computer. I see it every day. That smile. That young face. That good heart. I see it all.

I have a video for you to watch. I know it pertains to the Vietnam War, but war is war and many of the things it alludes to are going on at this very moment. Many mother's sons and daughters are on the other side of the world from them, serving our country, standing up for our freedoms. There's so much blame, so much hate going on in regards to our involvement in this war. One line in this song in particular stands out to me:

And who was wrong?
And who was right?
It didn't matter
in the thick of the fight.

Watch this video.

I can go into the other room and put my arms around all three of my children today. I thank God for that. And I am so very thankful for those brave men and women who have sacrificed their lives over many generations so that I can live a peaceful live full of blessed ordinary days.

Pre-Three

When my in-laws were here last week dropping off Lovely K after her weekend in Indiana, they went ahead and gave Superbaby his birthday present. They did not want to make the trip here again the very next week. So after we ate at our favorite local Mexican restaurant, Superbaby got to open a couple of presents from his grandparents.

Superbaby is really into Thomas the Tank. We have a wide variety of wooden tracks and miscellaneous generic wooden engines from back when Lovely K was a toddler. But Superbaby is into the trains so much more than the other two ever were. He has collected several of the Thomas the Tank train engines and cars. The big box he got there was the round house. He really has enjoyed playing with it. I think he likes it because in many of the Thomas videos, that's where the engines are side-by-side and they talk to each other. It's familiar.

With each item you buy from these manufacturers, you get these little papers that fold out and show you all the other Thomas the Tank stuff that there is available. Superbaby just pours over these. He loves to point out all the characters he knows and tell you what he has and what he wants.


So the pre-birthday celebration was a big hit. My in-laws are very attentive to details and want to get the kids things that they are interested in and want.

Two of the Christmas presents that Big E had received from them had to be returned for various reasons, so when they came back from Indiana with Lovely K, they had the "replacement" gifts for him. He got the Star Wars math game for his Leapster and the little protective carrying case for his Leapster. He has played that Star Wars math game from dawn til dusk. I have never had to make up rules for when a toy can and cannot be played with as I have had to do for that particular game this past week. I'm glad it's educational. But I am also very glad that he likes it so well.

My kids are really very easy to please.
Although one of them is not at all pleased with me today because we are not going to the little circus that's coming through town tonight.
As if life in our house is not enough three ring excitement....

Finger Foods of the Ancient World

I wish I had taken pictures of our ancient African feast. The food was attractive. And we ate it. We didn't have to order pizza. It wasn't like anyone was saying "I've got to get this recipe from you" or "Make this on my birthday!" First I must tell you that somehow I fell behind time wise Saturday and by the time Mr & Mrs Popsicle and their lovely daughter arrived, nothing was ready. This is so not me. I like to pretty much have everything complete when the guests arrive. But as I have said, the Popsicles are lovely people and they are very comfortable. My children immediately grabbed the Popsicle Daughter and whisked her upstairs. I guess I should explain that she isn't a child. She lives and works in another town but was home for the weekend. She is a beautiful, wonderful girl. She was in the youth group when my husband and I were still working with the teens at our church and what a sweetheart. Good Christian girl. I just love her. So while she was playing flashlight tag with my babes upstairs, Mrs. Popsicle rolled up her sleeves and helped me finish the meal. I made the papaya stir fried rice and she fried the plantains.

The chicken with figs made an attractive platter when it reached the table. It looked nice and the chicken was fine. I mean, it was chicken. That's what it tasted like. The figs....well....I don't think I'll be cooking any figs ever again. They were okay. It wasn't something that tasted bad, but it was just like, why bother eating this? It was just kind of neither here nor there. My kids liked the chicken ----well, except for Superbaby, of course. He seems to be quite the vegetarian by his own preference.

The papaya stir fried rice was probably the best item on the menu. I told you my papaya woes, but that all worked itself out. I just used the fresh papaya. I threw in a few pieces of papaya into the water I was boiling for the rice since I didn't have the papaya juice from the can of papaya that was not to be found in Tiny Town. I had no idea what all that was going to taste like. Papaya, red bell pepper, and red onion are not a combo I have often tried. But that dish was good. We put the juices from the chicken on the rice and it was sweet and tasty.

I liked the plantains. I think they were liked by everyone (--except Big E who doesn't really care for potatoes. I mean, God forbid that that skinny child like anything sugary or starchy or in any way fattening.) They are that perfect blend of potato and banana. We put garlic on the second half of them and I liked that. I liked them both ways. I actually liked them better when they had cooled off, down to room temperature. I would make those again. I need to read up on them and see if they are a good source of any particular nutritional nugget.

I guess it was kind of a weird meal to invite them to join in with us. I felt like it was just odd the whole time. My husband was not impressed with it at all and made himself a bologna and cheese sandwich later when we were playing cards.

Oh, and my children, merciful heavens---it was one of those nights where you just thought, "Where did these kids come from?" I'm not going to say that my kids are next in line to Amy Vanderbilt, but they have been taught how to behave. Or so I thought. We do eat every meal at the table like normal people with utensils and some basic manners. But it was like all that went out the window that night. I should have known something was awry when Lovely K told everyone as we sat down to the table that all of this food was finger food. Now, to the ancient Africans it may have been. We didn't research what utensils they used. But NONE of it was finger food to us. And I told my kids this, but every time I looked over there they were eating like they had been raised in some jungle far far away from civilization. Chicken legs were dropped. Water was spilled. Bad manners were displayed in ways I would not even want you to know about. Why do they chose to behave like this in front of people and then do fine when it is just us? I would prefer it to be the other way around.

Daughter Popsicle had to leave after dinner. She had to got to work early this morning so she needed to get back to her bachelorette pad in College Town. After she left and we put the kids in the bed, we taught Mr & Mrs Popsicle to play Dutch Blitz. Remember the card game I was obsessed with over Christmas? Well, we played a couple of games of that. I enjoyed it. I think they did too. Mrs. Popsicle caught onto it after a few hands and her little hands were flying all over that table, slipping down cards in the blink of an eye and causing the rest of us to scream.

We enjoyed our evening. I did anyway. I like to open our home to people. And this week will be full of that. We had the Popsicles last night. Our pastor and his wife came to lunch after church today (--but that doesn't really count as having company. They often come to lunch on Sundays and they come whether the house is clean or not, whether the meal is planned or thrown together. They are very much like family.) Tuesday night my family will be coming over for dinner for Superbaby's birthday. Then Thursday night a group of women from church will be coming over for a little planning/fellowship meeting. I think that's all I have on the agenda.

Yes, I said that Superbaby's birthday is Tuesday. He'll be three.




I cannot believe he is turning three. He's my baby. But he really isn't a baby any more. Today was his last day in the nursery at church. It's big church from now on. How strange that I won't have a baby in the nursery anymore. Unless another one shows up.

I hope you sweeties had a nice weekend. I did. It was very full. After our pastor and his wife left this afternoon, I layed down on the couch and fell asleep until five o'clock, just in time to get everybody ready and out the door for church. I must have needed that nap and I'm not dragging right now, but I'm going to bed at a decent hour. It's so important for me to get off on the right foot on Monday mornings. It sets the tone for the whole week. If I mess that up, it can stink up the whole week.

I'll just tell you something else.... I really need to get back into a routine with my Bible reading. I have been all over the place with that lately. When I get out of a routine with it, it's so easy for it to not happen. And I feel like that's what has been happening more often than not for some time now. I have just need some kind of spiritual kick in the pants lately. It's like I know that is the most helpful thing I can do, but it's the easiest thing to leave out of my day. Why is that? So I'm going to work on that this week again. If you see me, feel free to give me that kick in the pants. Spiritually speaking.

What's For Supper, Grandpa?

Tonight is the night of our little "ancient Africa-inspired" meal. These recipes come from the activity book for The Story of the World Vol. 1 by Susan Wise Bauer. Here's what we are having:

Chicken with Figs
Papaya Stir-fried Rice
Fried Plantains

We did invite Mr.&Mrs. Popsicle and their lovely daughter is coming with them. I have no idea if this food will be fit to eat or not. The Popsicles are bringing fresh fruit (they are such sweeties) so if everything else is horrid we can just survive on that. Or order pizza. But I am thinking it could be good. It could be our new family favorite. We might be eating Chicken with figs all the time.

And for the record, I bought plain figs for the first time in my life today. The only other kind I have ever purchased came with Newton. I had to buy a fresh papaya because I could not find a can of it anywhere (I'll look again tomorrow after the funeral), so now what am I going to do for papaya juice? Oh, and there were no plantains in tiny town where I was looking today. Talked to Mr. Popsicle as he was in College Town and he picked up the plantains for me. I told you they are a bunch of sweeties.

But how funny that I struggle to find these things.
Welcome to shopping in Tiny Town in the south.

So here are the recipes in case you are interested
in inviting friends over for a meal
that could go either way:

Chicken with Figs

3-4 lbs chicken legs
1 lemon
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ cup vinegar
¼ cup water
1-2 tablespoons lemon juice
8-16 oz dried figs
salt to taste
parsley

Preheat oven to 400. Peel and slice the lemon. Place lemon slices and figs in the bottom of a 9x13 baking pan. Add the chicken legs.
In mixing bowl, combine the brown sugar, vinegar, water, and lemon juice.Pour mixture over the chicken. Sprinkle the chicken with salt and parsley.
Bake covered with foil, for about 40 minutes. Remove foil and bake for 20-30 minutes or until chicken begins to brown. Baste frequently during the last 20-30 minutes. Remove chicken, figs, and lemon slices and place on a serving tray. Skim off any fat and use the remaining juices as a sauce for the chicken.



Papaya Stir-fried Rice

1 can chopped papaya, reserve the juice
1 red bell pepper
½ red onion, chopped
2 tablespoons dried parsley
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt to taste
instant rice

Prepare rice as directed, substituting the papaya juice for an equal amount of water.
While the rice is being prepared, combine the papaya, red pepper, onion, parsley and salt in a medium bowl. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the papaya mixture and stir fry until onions are tender.
Add the cooked rice to the papaya mixture and stir fry an additional 2 minutes. Serve immediately.


Fried Plantains

¼ cup cooking oil to 1 plantain

Preheat oil in a large skillet over medium high heat.
Peel and cut the plantain into rounds, a bit thicker than ¼ inch.
Very carefully fry the pieces until the edges are very lightly golden brown. Flip them over, and fry the other side. As a guideline, one minute per side should be sufficient. Don’t let them get too dark.
Remove excess oil with a paper towel. Serve immediately. Add salt and or garlic to taste.


Okay----I'll report back here later.
Hopefully not after having my stomach pumped.

Soup with Lloyd Dobbler

I am always thinking of things to tell you when I am not sitting here in front of the computer, but then when I get here, my mind goes blank. As blank as Meg Ryan's mind in "You've Got Mail" when she was trying to think of a mean snappy comeback. Blank. And time---oh my goodness---it's so hard to find the time to sit down here and do this without every member of my family coming in here to show me something or tell on someone or calling from another room to ask where something or someone is and would I please come and do something that they are perfectly capable of doing but it's better when I do it because I'm the mama. sigh. It probably doesn't take other people as long as it takes me to type up stuff. Not that I'm slow. But I have to review it. I'm not a professional proofreader (I actually was at one point in time) but I don't like things to be a mess. Now please don't roll your eyes and point out my errors to me. I didn't say i achieved perfection.

Anyway.....I keep thinking that I need to tell you this one thing. I've been thinking it since....oh, whenever we went to the Harry Connick Jr. concert. I think that was mid-December. So here's what it is: I had a Say Anything moment. If you're a gal my age who watched that movie over and over in your late teen years and still loves John Cusack despite his sometimes white puffy face and Bush-hating politics, you will understand this. If you are anyone else, you might not. But you could go watch the movie (I have it if you want to borrow it) and you can see the sweetie pie moment that I am about to talk about.
You see, in the movie John Cusack plays Lloyd Dobbler who wants to date this brainy, beautiful girl. They are an unlikely pair, but because of his crazy charm, she goes out with him after their high school graduation. They are walking across this parking lot on that first date and Lloyd guides her away from this broken glass so she won't step in it. It's not a huge thing. But later in the movie she is explaining that when people ask her why she is dating him, she thinks of that. Of that broken glass moment.
SO here's what happened to me in Nashville the night of the Harry Connick Jr. concert. My husband and I (and yes, I realize I do not have a clever blog name for my husband; I'll work on that) and my brother and his wife were walking around in Nashville, there near the Ryman Auditorium.....

Which I love.
Have I told you lately that I love the Ryman Auditorium?
If I was a 50-something
divorced woman in Nashville,
I would get a job there as an usher.

.....were walking around the streets of Nashville. My husband and I were walking along together down the sidewalk and I was telling him some big thing that was more than a sentence or two. Without interrupting me, he pointed at some glass and said "Don't step in that." But he didn't say it like the Billy Goats Gruff. He said it more like....like Lloyd Dobbler.

Imagine my delight.

I never thought of him being like Lloyd Dobbler.
And he's not in most ways.
But he doesn't want me to step in broken glass.
How sweet is that?
I think I'll keep him.

A couple of nights after that I was cooking supper and talking to my little brother in my kitchen and I started telling him about this (because he thinks he knows Say Anything as well as I do, but he doesn't) and he acted like hearing about my hubby being a sweetie like Lloyd Dobbler made him sick to his stomach. How little brother-y.

But wait! There's more. Not more broken glass--

(walkin' on glass
walkin' on glass,baby.
Walkin' on glass
walkin' on glass

feels like i'm walkin' on broken glaaaaassssss!

And if you have never heard that song
by Annie Lennox
you probably weren't singing
along with me right there.
Sorry.
Speaking of Annie Lennox,
go find and listen to her song
"Wait In Vain" from the soundtrack of the
movie Serendipity....which also stars
John Cusack. And I think his character in
that movie is just a grown up Lloyd Dobbler.
Serendipity is one of those movies
that you watch the whole thing for one moment,
when his fiance gives him a gift
the night before his wedding.
That moment.
I love it.
And how off topic am I now?)

As I was saying: There is more. Aren't you lucky? Another little thing to brag about on my dear blog-nameless hubby. He brought me a quart of soup. The soup I love. The first time he did this was on our anniversary a couple of years ago. It was the best gift ever. And then he came in with it one day this week because he had eaten lunch at this restaurant that I love (I've talked to you about it before ---Puelo's Grille--and about this particular soup and what we go through to try to be in that restaurant on those once in a blue moon days when they make it. And I just can't help but wonder why it's so rare for them to make this soup even though it is the best soup in the world and I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.) It's this tomato-dill-shrimp soup. Oh my goodness. It's good stuff. I have a serious thing for this soup.

So how sweet is this sweet potato that I am married to?

And I don't think it's going to ruin the sweetness of my praise for him by telling you that the man is also crazy. He's grown a beard (as he seems to do now in the winter) and he thinks some of the hairs in his beard are turning blond. Blond. You know how people who have always had really dark hair will start to go blond slowly and gradually as they get older. He is NOT going blond. We don't start coloring our hair to cover up the blond hairs that start showing up. He's not turning blond. Please. He has the coloring of an Iranian. Blond is not what you call the color of these hairs. But try telling him that. Mercy.

So to sum up our conversation tonight:

"Don't step in broken glass." = swoon
"Here's your favorite soup." = swoon
"I think I'm turning blond." = major rolling of eyes

Meanderings

"The sun is shining, the grass is green,
the something and palm trees sway....."

Do you know what classic song that line is the little known intro to? If you have spent any time at all around me, there is a high probability that I have sung it to you. And that's the line I always think of when the sun is shining beautifully. Like it is today. So why did I post the snowy poem today? I'll let you in on a little secret---I typed that in the other day when I had a spare moment and set it to post this morning, not knowing what the weather might be like. But let me assure you, even though the sun is shining and the grass is green and the palm trees in my yard are swaying like there's no tomorrow, it's still cold. Not Alaska cold. Or Minnesota cold. Just Tennessee wimpy southern girl cold.

You'll be glad to know that Superbaby had no potty accidents yesterday. I know that is of utmost concern to everyone the world over.
So I will continue to fill your minds
with valuable information:
He's wearing underwear again today
and so far, so good.
This potty training business has caused me to think a lot about babies and whether or not there are any more of them in my future. I have always thought that I would have four children. I don't know where that number came from, but I've always thought four. And here's something I find myself thinking (you can write me a comment in all caps if you think I'm crazy): I would be much more likely to sign up for #4 this very second if I knew #4 would be a female. Is that terrible? Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my boys. They are fabulous. But I have two boys. I have only one girl. And I would love for the one girl I have to not be the only girl. I would love for Lovely K to have a sister. I realize they would be at least nine years apart in age, but once they are all adults that won't really matter. If you are a woman who has no sister, you will probably be able to appreciate why I wish this for my daughter. If you are a woman who has a sister, you probably don't think it's that big of a deal. Because you have one.


I'm just finding myself staring at this paragraph
and feeling lost. How did I get here?
Why am I telling these people this?
See there---I can't even concentrate for the few minutes it takes to write this. I'm in no condition to have another child.
What am I thinking?
And we haven't even address the fact that
the old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be.

Lovely K called Mr.& Mrs. Popsicle today and invited them to come eat our African meal with us Saturday evening. The kids are excited about this meal. I am wondering how excited they will be when they are actually facing a plate full of this food. Actually, the food doesn't sound bad to me. I am interested in trying it out. We're going to have Chicken and Figs, Papaya Stir-fried rice, and fried plantains. Before you people who keep the flame for authentic ethnic cuisine start typing your comments (in all caps), let me tell you that we are studying ancient Africa and these are the recipes provided in the book I am using. I don't know if they are authentic or not. Don't tase me, bro.

RBG on a cold snowy day

"If I could have each day
one hour of sun,
glorious,
healing,
hot,
like now---
then let Winter come!
Not
mild and brief,
but
wild, without relief;
let the storms rage,
let the winds blow,
the freezing rains
lashing my windowpanes;
then
let it snow!
long
and
deep
and cold.


I would not mind at all:
it would be fun...
if I could have
each day
my hour of sun."


Ruth Bell Graham

Fruit of the Loom

We are doing Story of the World, Vol. 1 for our history this year. We aren't exactly marching through the text. I think this is chapter11. I don't know why but I avoid Science and History. I think because they both want us to do experiments and all sorts of things. Make messes. Assemble a host of books and supplies and do all this stuff. I know it's very un-Charlotte Mason of me, but I don't like projects. I don't like crafts. I don't like experiments. Don't hate me. But here's something we are going to do. We are reading the first chapter on Africa today and they have these recipes for this meal.....we're going to do that. Saturday night. If I can get together the ingredients, we are going to have our African meal. I'm thinking about inviting Mr. & Mrs. Popsicle over to "enjoy" it with us (since I had to cancel on them last time I invited them over). I'll tell you more later. I've got to go stop the wild partying in the kitchen and break out the history and science books.

By the way, Superbaby has worn real underwear
all day and not had an accident yet.
I may be asking for trouble,
but I just put him down for his nap in underwear.
This has never happened before.
Cross your fingers.

Take a Chill Pill

I have heard more than one person complain about the prayer of the little old black minister at the inauguration yesterday. I have listened to what they said. I have tried to present them with another way of looking at it. I have tried to explain my point of view to them.

Now, I am just going to sigh.

I am amazed that anyone could have watched all the ceremonies and the pomp and circumstance yesterday and have chosen to get their feathers ruffled by the humorous words in that prayer.

I don't know if you know this about me or not,
but I am a white gal.
Oh, yes, there's a picture of me over there. Well then, yes, you know it. So that's where I am coming from. And I did not support and vote for Barrack Obama for president. (I was not a big fan of John McCain either, but I agreed more with the platform on which he stood.) And I will say that I hope that President Obama doesn't do all the stuff he said he would when he campaigned. I am quite opposed to many of his views. I am a staunch enemy of some of the causes he supports. But I didn't sit there watching the inauguration yesterday looking for something to be mad about.
I was proud of my country.
I was proud of George W. Bush.
And I was proud of Barrack Obama.
My heart rejoiced to think of the elderly African-Americans who remember times when they themselves or certainly their parents were restricted and disrespected and humiliated because of the color of their skin----and I thought of how much more it means to them than it can ever mean to me, a little white girl in the south, to now have a black man as the leader of our country. When that minister said that little something about "white doing what is right"----I did not get offended. I laughed with everyone else at his humor.

I'll tell you what I am annoyed at---I am annoyed at all these white people that I know who are just looking for a reason to get offended. They must have been waiting with baited breath for someone to say something, anything that could offend them. For crying out loud, in the lifetime of that aged man who said that prayer, he has seen the days when things were not as they are now. Can we not just appreciate that things have changed? Can we not acknowledge that it was white people like us, like me, who did actually do all the horrible things that we know about? And though we don't have those prejudices in our hearts today, it was not that long ago that they were very real. One person I know was basically yelling that she did not deserve any blame for any mistreatment of anyone of another race because she had never mistreated one individual of any other race.
Sigh.
I know that she hasn't. I also know that the prayer than man read yesterday was in not an indictment of her individual behavior. Have white people ever mistreated black people? Um, yes. Hello. Has she? Have I? No. So what is the problem? Why is anyone upset about this? It's not a personal affront. I honestly cannot understand why these people are upset.

I just don't get it.

Bubbling Brooks Run Deep

Think not, dear reader, that your friendly Bell
is a shallow simpleton.

While I find myself opting to be a clown
more often than a philosopher, I do actually think.
Deep thoughts.
Like that guy from SNL.

How strange that I would reference SNL. I could count on one hand the times I have watched that show. Of course I've seen the clips and got the jokes and all that;
I didn't spend my youth in a cave in the Scottish highlands.
I just find it odd that I am referencing that show as though it is a favorite of mine that I have watched many times.
And I'm bringing all this up to tell you what?
That I'm not all fluff and giggles?
oh please

Today I read some women who share things in a much more elegant, beautiful manner than I will ever attempt to do. So while I am posting Monty Python sketches and talking about the minutia of my ordinary days (can't say I led you astray with the blog title, can you?), let me also direct you to read a post or two that are worthy. I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.

SHE Is So Great

I don't know if you guys are listening to any of the songs I added, but I am. I find myself logging on to listen to them anytime I am here in my bedroom (which is where the computer is located---in case you are drawing a map of our house based on tidbits of descriptions I have given you over time). I have realized that some of these songs need to get added to my itunes list. Some of them are there already.

Right now I am listening to Elvis Costello's She. That is a great song. Listen to it right now. It's not that long. It can play while you are reading this.

Are you listening to it?
Is it soaking into your pores?
It's going to get stuck in your head.

You won't think so until about an hour from now. And then it'll be stuck in your head and you'll answer your children's questions to the tune of this song. Or you'll start talking in that smooth flowing rhythm that is that song.

So, what do we think of Elvis Costello, by the way? I used to think that I didn't care for him, but I didn't really know him. There's some song he did with Burt Bacharach that I loved. I think it's called "What's Her Name Today?" It came up on one of my Pandora stations. And I love his song "Veronica." Not so much the song as the lyrics. It makes me think about old people. (I like old people.) I remember the video for Veronica. I was either high school or college. Another song I heard on Pandora that I have not found anywhere else is a song called Harvest Festival by a group called XTC. It was actually the demo version and I just loved that song. It's probably very obscure. I know nothing about XTC or any of their other songs.

Okay, so, it's very cold in Tennessee. Record lows. The schools were out because it was so cold--and I don't know if that was for the kids in town that walk to school or the buses or kids that have to wait to catch a bus. What I do know is that we never got out for COLD when I was a kid. But here's what I think is amusing: the public schools were out today. Our home school co-operative met as scheduled. Which was fine with me....except for a few minutes this morning when I was rushing around like a mad person trying to get ready and looking at the beautiful flames in the fireplace and thinking how nice it would be to just cuddle up beside that fire and finally finish reading Black Beauty to the babes. But that wouldn't have worked out anyway. My in-laws were here to take Lovely K with them to Indiana. They left shortly after the boys and I left for the co-op. And part of that craziness this morning was that our downstairs unit was not working. UGH. I'm not even going to tell you anything about the contractor who built our house and pretended to be our friend. I guess I could say this much: we will be seeing each other in court later this month. UGH. So after I got home this afternoon, our lovely little heating and cooling guy who is the salt of the earth came and found the problem. It was some little disconnection-electrical problem. He was here about a total of ten minutes. So $70 later, both units are working.

My parents got to have a cold weather adventure of their own this morning. Some pipes temporarily froze and then when they thawed out, somehow that little tube that runs to the ice maker in the fridge just burst or something and there was much flooding. My dad ran out to the well house in his sock feet while my mom stood in the kitchen unable to stop the water. And I know just what my mother was doing. You would love to see my mom get upset. We have this list of things that she says. Usually she's in the kitchen alone and she's either left something out of a recipe and discovered it too late to make amends or else she's done something else crazy or wrong. She says things like "Dumb, dumb, double dumb." That's a phrase I have never heard anywhere else but from my mother's lips. That ties with two others for most frequently used. The other two are: "I could just kick myself!" and "Well! I'll be John Brown!" My grandmother who died at 92 and was just so amusing would say, when she was really upset about something, "donkey mess." There's a bad word for you. Why am I telling you alternatives for bad words? I don't know. That's making me think of the summer before I went away to this Christian college. I was good friends with a guy who had just graduated from there and was thinking about dating his brother who was a current student. We were driving down the road, the graduate and some girl in the front seat and me and the brother in the back seat. We were discussing the rules down there, how crazy they were. And strict. Things I couldn't believe were rules (I'd gone to a state school for the first two years of college). So the brother, being the fun person he is, starts telling me a list of words that you are not supposed to say on campus. The graduate (who probably couldn't make much of a list of those words at the time) nearly wrecked his car trying to get his brother to shut up. And I just laughed my head off. It was so funny. You're not laughing. I guess you had to be there.

I hope you are keeping warm. Come sit by my laughing fire
if you aren't. I'll teach you how to play Dutch Blitz.

It's 87° here!!!

It really isn't.
Don't be jealous.
It's just as cold here as it is where you are.

Unless you are in the Bahamas with my old college suite-mate Gina (who I loved!). Then it is MUCH colder here and I hope you feel sorry for me.
And tell Gina I said hello.
OR if you are, as we have mentioned before,
a mile down the road from the Mall of America.
Then you are probably colder.
A LOT COLDER.
I'm not trying to compete with you people.
I'm just saying it is cold here.
It's not 87°.
But I can type 87°.
That's what I am saying.

So, anyway, Big fat hugs and kisses to JP for sharing some life-changing info with me! I can type things that I didn't know I could type!

Let's say that I was telling you that after I baked a birthday cake at a very high temperature, I went to the store to find a Hispanic-heritage related amusement for our birthday party and found one for less than a dollar-----yeah. Let's say I wanted to tell you that exact information.
(And I know that it is the sensational topics,
like this one,
discussed here that has the masses
following this little blog....Not that I want
the masses.
Tell the masses to stay away.)

I can now, thanks to JP, say this to you in a way that I couldn't before. I can say it like this:

After removing the
scorched cake from the 675° oven,
I purchased a piñata for 79¢.

Did you notice anything?
My symbols, perhaps?
My tilde? My cent sign? My degree symbol?
Yes! The things I have been complaining about not being about to type, I can now type them. Let me throw my hat into the air Mary Tyler Moore style.

Of course this means I now have about seventeen million recipes that I have to go into and change 375 degrees to 375°.

So really....I've just had a lot of work handed to me.

Thanks a lot.

So this morning while I am schooling my children and mopping my floor and hiding the basket full of ironing from my coming visitors, I will be thinking of the recipes that I need to be altering. Plus I've flung my hat (in an expression of sheer joy) to who-knows-where.

Oh well.
What do I have to complain about?
I've got the world on a striñg,
sittiñg on a raiñbow.
Got that striñg arouñd my fiñger.
What a world!
What a life!
I'm iñ love!!!.....

Do you know that song?
Frank Sinatra.
Or I could say Siñatra.
But that's isn't right.
But I can say it now if I wañt to.

And I want to.
I'm such a dork.

The Swing of Things

A lot of us home school moms have been asking each other how (or if) we are back in the swing of things after the holidays. I remember other times when it was struggle to return to our school work, but this year has not seemed to be. Of course, this is only the second week. But if it hasn't been a struggle yet, then I would say that the "getting back to it" part won't be. Like I said before, the kids have been so excited about returning to our home school co-op that they haven't spent much energy resisting school.
Also, I have revamped things (again). Nothing major. I'm just learning to be in control of my stuff and not let it control me so I have the freedom to swap things around and change things. And remember what CM herself said: A change is as good as a break.
I'm really just keeping my notes from that Simply Charlotte Mason seminar handy and going through the every couple of months. That helps me see where I'm getting off track or back into crazy assembly-line production ways. I just can't say enough good about the Simply Charlotte Mason website and if you have a chance to go to one of their seminars or to hear them at a curriculum fair, jump at it. If they ask to meet you for coffee, meet them-- and take a pen and paper. And maybe a sponge to soak up their wealth of helpful, useful, practical information. If they invite you over for dinner, go. (And don't tell them what to fix for you to eat.) But definitely the seminars. Go if one is anywhere near you. It will be time and money well spent. And it's not that much money compared to other educational helps. They don't inflate their prices. And they have some great products.

deet-dee-dee-deet-dee-deet-dee-dee-deet-dee
(That's the sound of my approaching bulletin)

Weather Bulletin:
It's COLD in Tennessee.
After telling you how lovely it was Friday with kids eating their lunches outside without jackets on, well, things have changed. It's COLD. Now, those of you who live down the road from the Mall of America, I'm sure you wouldn't think it's cold. And you would laugh at the flurry of activity caused by the threat of snow flurries. I have to tell you that I am not one of those southerners who freaks out about snow. My parents are the type who fill their gas tanks to the top and buy milk and eggs if there's ever a mention of snow on the weather forecast. My husband (who is not from the south) finds this very amusing. He always wants to know what benefit the full tank of gas is when they wouldn't drive on a snowflake unless is was an absolutely necessary situation. He was telling me yesterday about being in high school and running cross country or playing soccer in shorts in Michigan when it was bitterly cold.
And yes, it was up hill both ways.

Hey---I bought a cute little trio of candle holders yesterday at a junk store. They kind of look like those delicate ones from Candlelight. I actually got a set of three of those at a yard sale once for a dollar. But these things yesterday---I saw two of them first and picked them up. They were marked 99 cents each. And I did think there should be a third one, but I was going to buy the duo anyway. But then I found the third one further down the aisle. It was marked $1.99. I wondered why it would be a different price, but here's the thing: I was going to buy it anyway. And I am not one to flop around and give grief to the people who work at places. I'm not a haggler. But I was setting my three tall, fragile candle holders up on the counter to pay for them and I just mentioned that it was odd that one of them would have a different price. So the chick working there looked at the three price tags and said, "Oh, this third one should be 49 cents, not $1.99." She didn't make it the same price as the others, but cheaper. So that was even better. But am I a little bit OCD to be wanting the prices to all be the same since they are a set?

And now let me complain that there is no way on this keyboard for me to make the little "C" with a line through it that is the symbol for "cents." I could have used that in the above paragraph. You know how it bothers me to not be able to put a ~ over my Ns when I need to. Who decides what symbols make the keyboard and which ones don't?

Can I tell you something else?
My in-laws will be here tomorrow night and after saying "don't go to any trouble" and all that, my MIL told me that fried chicken and a salad and some low carb veggie like green beans would be fine for their supper.
I know we are family and all that, but what is up with that?
I may say that I HATE cilantro and I will not eat beets for love or money, but I'm not going to give somebody the menu for a meal that I approve when I come to their house. And don't get me wrong. I'm not upset about it. My family loves my fried chicken. I might have chosen to make that on my own. But whenever something like that happens and somebody tells me what to do......well, it just makes me want to do the opposite. It makes me want to make an all pasta and potato meal.
With no accommodating low carb veggie.
Like green beans.

Didn't She Ramble?

Let me warn you now: This is a rambler.
And by that I mean,
I got to the end and didn't know what I had said,
what I meant to say,
or if anything was a complete thought.
Or if I moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer yet. Could somebody go check that one for me?
Feel free to move on to your next blog at this point.
You won't miss anything.
Come back and try and again next time.

I have been without access to my computer for a couple of days. Even now the poor old thing may stroke out on us at any minute. My husband is trying to make nice with this creature, ordering it new parts, upgrades, flavored fizzy drinks. But who knows what it'll do next. It's old and crabby and cantankerous. So if I start fading in and out....you'll know why.

If you'll look to the right of your screen (you may have to scroll down a little bit), you'll notice that I have added some music for your listening pleasure. It's an assortment. All songs that I like. You will most likely hate some of them. Feel free to skip over them without complaining to me. You don't have to listen at all. It should not start playing unless you tell it to. If it does, please let me know.

We had a lovely weekend here in gray Tennessee. It's gray because it's January and that's the way it's supposed to be. If you live a mile down the road from the Mall of America, I'm sure you have quite a different weather scene. I should not complain. On Friday it was so pleasant where we ate lunch that some of the big kids ate outside. Wearing light jackets or no jacket at all. I don't think you are doing that in Minnesota, are you?

Speaking of Friday, that was our first day of classes at our home school co-op. You haven't heard much about our co-op (please, no farm implement jokes---I get enough of that from my family members) because I skipped out of it during the fall semester. It was a nice break to not go, but we missed it. Especially Lovely K and Big E. I promoted Big E to "rotating" classes this semester----which does not have anything to do with spinning around in a circle. It just means he's a part of the whole four period/"change classes when the bells rings" section of the co-op instead of being in the little kid classes where they stay in the same room the whole time. There's this transitional class between the two (it's labeled First Grade, which is where he should be) but I did not put him in there. And since he's really made this big scholastic step lately, I thought he would be better off moving up. I would rather challenge him than have him bored. Plus, the four classes he has are not exactly going to be a mental work out. The only class he's in that isn't "physical" is a Maps and Charts class that a friend of mine is teaching. And I knew she'd be great with him so I bumped him up. Did I need to explain all of that to you?

Both Lovely K and Big are taking the karate class. They were so excited about that. The gal who teaches karate is such a sweetheart, so good with kids. She was dealing with an "altercation" one day a long time ago at McDonald's when several of us were having lunch there and the kids were playing in the play area. I listened to her talking to the kids and I had never heard anyone deal with something in such a gentle, godly, wise manner. It was just great. I have loved her ever since.

Thursday night of last week my husband came in with a load of stuff from My Favorite Aunt. It was like Christmas all over again. She sent the kids each a pretty bag of treats and presents for us. She sent the kids a really cool hard back book of Peanuts cartoons. They LOVE it. Superbaby had me readying "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" to him yesterday. She also sent all these baking ingredients. Lots of it. I just need to do the baking. She also sent presents for other family members. I gave them to my mom the next day to distribute.

Friday night Lovely K and Big E spent the night with my parents. It was kind of strange to have just Superbaby with my hubby and me. We met some friends for supper at a local Mexican restaurant and he was the only child. The next morning, it was just he and I at home and that was so quiet and peaceful. He watched some cartoons and played while I cleaned up some of the house. Then we went shopping and that was neat to go with just the two of us. He's such a sweet pea. We enjoyed our time together.

THEN Saturday evening after everyone was reunited (and it felt so gooooooood) and I fed them a lovely super of tacos, I hit the road by myself and headed over to my good buddy's house so she and I could chat and watch a movie. We watched that Ricky Gervais movie "GhostTown" and it was cute. I like that guy's sense of humor anyway. He cracks me up. I wouldn't let my kids watch it, but if you know me, there aren't a lot of new movies that I let them watch. But it was cute. And we laughed our heads off. Especially when the buses come by in that movie. Horrible and hilariously funny.

So now it is Monday. My husband and my baby have colds. I have had an insane headache today that I am just keeping at bay with OTC drugs. I have not exactly been the milk of human kindness today.....not that I've been evil.....

Let's just listen to a little music and relax and put our feet up, shall we? I recommend "Song For A Friend" by Jason Mraz over there on the newly installed player. If that's not at all your cup of tea or you don't want to listen to an amazing eight minute song, try David Gray's "January Rain." That is a KILLER piece of music. If I could play the guitar like that, that's all I would do....pausing only to eat and go to the bathroom. Maybe I'd play in the bathroom too. These talented musicians just blow me away. Remind me to tell you about a "musician" I know and a message he sent to me and many others on Facebook.

I guess I'm done here. I'm just rambling. If you read through this whole silly post, you deserve something. Go out and get yourself a low rate on a thirty year mortgage. They are at record lows.

You deserve it.

Or maybe a cup of coffee.

Either one.

A Little Nonsense Now and Then is Relished by the Wisest Men

How I Know the 2 Year Old Got a Hold of the Camera

Have you ever gone to download pictures from your camera (or perhaps your father's camera which you borrowed for Christmas morning and keep forgetting to return) and found pictures on it that you didn't take?
We have had a mystery photographer here. I'll show you the evidence.



I don't usually take close up pictures of my unmade bed.
With small feet in the edge of the frame.
And what is that other thing?
Maybe the end of Indiana Jones' whip?

Here's a lovely view of where my feet are when I am typing to you, dear reader.
Only my feet weren't there at the time of this photo.
Obviously.

Another hint of the mysterious photographer:
Knees and feet.
It seems to me I've tied those shoes before.

What was he trying to take a picture of?

And we are back to the foot area of the desk.

Maybe it's paparazzi.
They are always following celebrities and photographing the mundane things in their lives. Maybe one of them has moved on to me.
Maybe I'm being photographed right now.
I need to go put on a sweatshirt that doesn't have a bleach stain.
I don't want to be on that Mr. Blackwell's worst dressed list.

Oh wait.....he died, didn't he?

I'll just leave this shirt on.

I got up this morning and made Zoop, a family favorite here---especially of Big E. He is the reason we call that particular chicken and rice concoction "Zoop." That was his favorite thing to eat and he asked for it every day when he was about three. But he couldn't say soup correctly. He said zoop. So we call it zoop. And we always will.

So I made a big pot of Zoop and after church while I was standing there chatting with our pastor's wife, I told her what I had waiting at home for lunch. You see, she and her husband love Zoop too. They started making it after eating it here. And they call it Zoop too---because that's what it is. So they came over to our messy house today for a nice, simple lunch of Zoop and grilled cheese sandwiches. I had made a chocolate pound cake last night too and we had that as well. There are some people I could not invite over without having the house in order and a meal carefully planned out. But not them. I am very comfortable with them. We have spent a lot of time together through the years. They are like family. So we had a nice lunch. Doesn't he look like a lot of fun in this picture?

Tomorrow was supposed to be our first day of school, but we have registration for our homeschool co-op tomorrow. I signed up to help so that I could register before the rest of the crowd so that means much of my day will be spent in the next tiny town over tomorrow. I have to be there at 10am and the registration doesn't start until 1pm. It may be a long day.

But my kids will be so happy to discover they have one more day of freedom before I clamp that educational ball and chain to their skinny little ankles.

oh yeah....

Just thought I would tell you that tonight about the time the kids were going to bed, I whipped out my little ipod shuffle and got busy. I shuffled around all sorts of stuff for school. Tomorrow is the last chance for me to get ready for school. I work best under pressure.
Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?
(yeah, that's my problem)
But as I was saying, I was busy. I think the music helped more than anything. I have all these fast, happy songs that I love on there ("you've got the music in you,you, you, yoooooooooou." I LOVE that song.) because I had thought I would start this learning to run program. Haven't started it yet. But I love the music. I have the good version of Maroon 5 singing "Sunday Morning" and that song by Firehouse that I can't think of the name of right now. And who can resist cutting a rug when they hear Earth Wind and Fire say "Do you remember?" And many others. I cleaned out the butler's pantry and put away the Christmas dishes. That is a major deal. But I bopped right through it. I had the music in me, me, me, meeeeeeeee.

And then I took a bath.
With the music still blasting.
Soaked in the tub while hearing James Taylor and Carly Simon sing "Devoted To You" and thought about the fact that they weren't that devoted after all.

Just thought I'd tell you this.

See ya.

He's got it. Oh baby, he's got it.

There seems to be a "smart mouth" gene that runs throughout my family tree on both sides and in every branch. Some of us stay in that "smart mouth" mode 24/7. Others have occasional spurts that surprise everyone but prove that they had the gene all along. I just have to tell you that Superbaby indeed has it. He has had it all along. I think he had something smart to say the second he was born but when he saw the look on my face (yes, it was natural), he wisely kept his comment to himself. Today I ventured out into the world with just my third born babe and there were two comments he made that just cracked me up. It's not really fair to those of you who have not seen this child in action. He is mischief and glee and sweetness and rhythm and joy and testosterone and silliness all rolled up into one precious package. He can charm the pants off of you even when you are on guard. He's just overflowing with personality and always ready to smile and laugh and dance and play. He's great. And his latest thing is that, since we have been telling him his birthday comes at the end of this month, he's been telling us that he's going to turn 57. Instead of 3. Sometimes he says 47, but usually it's 57. And then he thinks he'll be able to play Monopoly Jr.

But back to the two things from today. First of all, we are driving along in the Bellmobile and he's behind me all strapped into his seat. He sneezed and I said, "Bless you." He was quiet for a minute and then he said, "Bless you? ... Bless you?... Bless your own self."
Then later he was getting into mischief at the grocery store. He kept touching things. He opened the raisins. He knocked a can off the shelf. So we are talking as we are shopping and I said to him, "You need to be a good boy, Superbaby, because right now you are being naughty." Without a moment's hesitation he said, "You can say that again, Mama."

Oh, that child.
He has been such a light in our lives these almost three years.