Faking It

In case anyone was wondering
what in the world happened to that UNfaithful Bell
who has not had much to say lately,
here I am.
I've started several posts and then half way through
it was like that moment in Seinfeld where George and Jerry
decided to be men. I would look at what I wrote
and think, "What is the point of this?"
And I'd just let it go.
So you haven't missed anything.
Not that stuff I wrote before was captivating.
But you really can't say that I mislead you.
The name of the blog is not Bell's Glamorous Life.
No, that will be my next blog.
Right now I am knee deep in the ordinary.

Funny thing happened yesterday
at our home school co-op. I had to
teach the knitting class. Me, your one true Bell,
who cannot knit, had to teach the class.
The teacher and the other helper were out sick.
Thankfully, I am a pretty good faker.
We "practiced" what they had already learned.
If there was something that I couldn't remember..
...like that pretzel thing she showed them to start off,
then I just made it like I was testing the kids.
Who can remember how to do the pretzel correctly?
And then one of them is very proud of them self
and no body really knows that Mrs. Bell
can't remember how to do it.

When I worked at a doctor's office (pre-children),
sometimes I would have to fake being a nurse.
If one of the RNs was out for whatever reason,
they would put me in her place.
Me---who knows NOTHING medical at all.
But I faked it. I guess if you have on scrubs,
people just assume you know something.
If they only knew....

Right now I am faking being a blogger.
You had no idea, did you?

I hope everything is lovely with you, Dear Reader.
Just wanted to pop in and say hi.
And this concern I am showing for you
is not fake.

Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes.

Greetings, my lovely Dear Reader.
I hope you are hearing Crosby, Stills and Nash singing
softly right now---"You place the flowers in the vase
that you bought today...." I love that song. Turn on
the juke box if you have it off and listen to that sweetie
pie song. It always just seems to be a verbal painting
of a peaceful home. End of day, everything done,
everyone sitting around adoring each other in peaceful,
musical softness. The ideal, you know.
And that's what I am always trying to recreate here
at the homestead. Have we accomplished that?
Are you new here? No. Not at all.
We have moments, but it's not the same picture
that is painted in that song. It's more like happy
children and their dancing mother in the kitchen,
everyone in jammies singing into wooden spoons
while the baby rolls around our feet on
a Batman big wheel.
But it's a nice goal to have out there, isn't it?
It's more like the empty nester's end of the day scene
painted in that song. And could I please continue to talk
some more about that song? For crying out loud,
you have better things to do.
I know. I'm sorry.

So let me move onto a new topic
and begin to brag about the lovely weekend I have had.
First of all let me say: healthy. We are back at work
and we have our health cards. We do have lingering coughs,
but they will eventually dry up and blow away if I continue
to ignore them. That's my plan. So that's the best
possible foundation to build upon for a good weekend:
not being sick.
Add to that a layer of visiting in-laws who do laundry,
cook meals, fix things around the house, encourage you to go
out on a date two days in a row while they watch the kids.
I'm not making this up.
It has been like a mini vacation for me.
And I have needed a mini vacation, so it's been lovely.
So the house is generally cleaned up.
The ironing is done (MIL did it all, and you know how I pile
up the ironing basket higher than my head).
It's all good. I'm sitting up here in my jammies ready to
go to bed early and get a good night's rest.
Because tomorrow we have go to hit
the educational ground running. We have got to get back
on track with the school. Did I mention that our
spring break was a flu break?
We did NOTHING last week. No school at all.
Except going to our co-op on Friday.
So that was our spring break.
We sicked it away.
I hope they enjoyed it. I don't see another day off in
our future. I'm just going to bulldoze through it.
But I'm kind of getting that excited thing where I want to
count up the days and see how few are left to do. I know
we are not near the end, but I think if I put this chair
on the table and climb up on it and strained my neck,
I can almost see the end from here.
Is that it? Over there on that sunny day in May?
Is that the end of this school year?
I think it is! Oh my!
I knew it would come.
I just knew it.



So that's what has been going on here.
Also? Sunshine. And warmth.
And what have I been doing?
Loving every minute of it?
You know I have.
I hope you have had a lovely weekend too, Dear Reader.

Pour Some Sugar On Me

Sick days are sort of empty days.
Don't get me wrong. There's been no lack of things to do.
And hopefully tomorrow everyone here will be well enough
that I will be able to beginning cleaning up this garbage can
we call home. I did a little jig this morning when no one
had a fever and the sun was shining. I thought this
might be the first day of the rest of our lives.
I was wrong.
It was still a sick day. Another "empty" day.
Big E was the one who fell back into the sickness today
with another dance with the high fever and aches. And then
Baby J had the nerve to run a bit of temperature again
this evening. Lovely K is mending, but she was really sick
yesterday. She was in recovery mode today.
Sweet T keeps flirting with it, but not really getting sick.
He'll probably wait until everyone else is well and try to start
a third wave of this heartless epidemic.
Are they not listening to me when I say
that I am banning sickness from
this household? Do they not think I am serious?
Are they enjoying this? These messed up, empty days?

I am not enjoying them.
We have wasted so much school time, it's ridiculous.
I've had too much idle time, laying in bed sick myself and
then sitting around holding or tending to sick children.
I've spent a sad amount of time looking at stuff on Youtube.
I have listened to my favorite bunch of songs on playlist
until I think that list is just playing in my head now. I don't
even need the computer on. I could have been doing
profitable things (not that tending to the sick is not profitable,
but the rest of the time, when I was googling and youtubing),
but wouldn't that be a little bit out of character?


I have been dreaming.
Dreaming of a smaller house where I can keep things
under control, dreaming of having money
to have fun with, dreaming of what I'll do when
my babes are older,
dreaming of having lunch with rock stars...

I have read the same chapter in Jeremiah about three
mornings in a row....and it's not until I get to the very
last couple of verses that I realize that I read the same
thing again. I don't know if that's the sickness
or just my addled brain.
But it was a good chapter,
worth multiple reads.

One good thing about this sickness: I lost a few pounds.
I have been thinking about that this week too. I read an
article somewhere about famous women saying how much
they really weighed and what size dress they really wore.
I am always so torn about this whole weight issue.
I absolutely do not want to become one of these women
who is obsessed about my weight, my looks, my diet.
That happens so easily. It seems to be this trap that
women my age fall into. Are they trying to recapture
their youth? Is this how Christian women have
a midlife crisis? I don't want that. I just want to be
healthy and balanced.

I have also been thinking about
whether or not I would be able to
cut sugar out of my life.
I have been friends with sugar since.....probably since
before I was born. We go way back. And we've always
gotten along so well. But if I could cut that out of
my life...that would be a major thing.
I don't even mean in the the weight loss area.
Just health.

There's just so many things that I have to be doing,
that I need to be doing,
things that take precedence.
And then there's the things I am interested in
and the things I want to do.
They don't often make the same list.
I hope its not always that way.
I want to take steps in the direction of making the life
I am living one that I want to be a part of.
I want to cut the negative things out of my life,
however painful that may be.
I want to quit worrying about what other people think.
I want to just please God and be happy.
I don't want a lot.
I have very simple tastes, very simple desires,
very simple dreams.
Except for maybe the lunch with a rock star dream.

See what happens
when I have these empty days?

House of the Rising Temperatures

Well, friends and neighbors and Dear Readers everywhere...
I feel like we should be singing that old "I Will Survive" song
after the crazy weekend that I have had.
What happened to you, Dear Bell? you ask.
Well, since you asked, I will tell you: I was sick.
Make that Sick, with a capital S.
Oh my word. It was one of those where you just hope some
other responsible adult can take care of the babes because
it's not even an option for you at the moment.

Of course whenever I say something like that,
I always think of concentration camp survivors or
some other extreme situation and realize that
I am just being a big baby when I complain about
anything in my life.

But I was sick.
And it wasn't pretty.
But don't compare it to a true tragedy.

I think things get harder on you as you get older.
Kids have stuff and while they may have the
same complaints, same symptoms
as you (the adult), they also have the desire
to play Mario Kart or watch a movie. I had no desire
to do anything but drink water with my eyes closed.
And I just wanted to be alone while I waited
for a meteor to fall on top of me.

Just since the fever left me, I have felt better in my
frame of mind. That makes such a difference. If you know
you're on the down side and that the worst is behind you,
that's just a little encouragement. There's a world of
difference in the state of mind between the person who is
waiting for the meteor and the person who is getting up
to take a shower and put on clean jammies.

And let's hear a big cheer for Lloyd Dobbler and my mom
for taking care of all of us while I was
out of commission. What would we do without out
lovely loved ones around to take care of us in our
times of need? What indeed.
I am so thankful for them,
so thankful that this illness was not any worse than it was,
so thankful that it is on its way out with me,
and I am so thankful that the sun is shining.
Both literally outside and figuratively.

Tomorrow's going to be another day.

The Sun, The Moon, and the Guest Bathroom

Greetings, Dear Reader. How art thou?
I hope you have had a good week so far. I have.
I mean, it has just been a regular week with nothing
exceptional happening, but it's been good. I don't know
if you recall this or not, but the days I love are
the ordinary ones.
The peaceful, regular, routine days.

Last night I discovered as I went upstairs to check
on the sleeping babes that it is that time again when
the moon sits so prettily right outside our large front
window--perfectly centered as though we were looking
at it through the lens of a camera.
It is artistically framed in that huge window over the
front door and when you are upstairs you are right across
from it. Last night was just a crescent moon, like
the Cheshire Cat's smile in the winter sky, but it
was still lovely. I prefer a full moon myself
---BIG fan of the full moon and all its beauty
(I can't tell you the times that Lloyd Dobbler has called
me over the years to say "Go outside and look at
the moon; you'll love it."
And he's right. I do.).

Then this morning I actually got up like I was supposed to
for a change (I have gotten really bad about this
since the days of sickness) and when I got out of
the shower, the window behind me was the most beautiful
shades of pink and purple because of the sunrise on the
other side of it. That window has that foggy glass that you
can't see through because it's right there by the bathtub
and the last thing anybody in the world needs
to see when they're driving by is a naked person standing
up to get out of the bathtub. (Why would somebody
be driving by in my back yard anyway? And I just realized
that I typed bathTUBE every time in this paragraph
---but I'll change that before you see it.)
Anyway, I got downstairs in time to see
the lovely sunrise
from the kitchen windows while I was making
my cappuccino (don't get excited, it's hot water
and powder stirred together, but it's what I reach for
first in the mornings). With all this noticing of the sky
and nature around me, one might think I could chart
their course across the oceans if we
were in 1492 going for a sail with Chris Columbus.
But no. Your faithful Bell has never been Nature Girl.
I'm not that type. I've never even been camping
(and we've covered this before, but for those of you
keeping score at home, let me make it clear that it's not
that I am opposed to camping,
I've just never been).
I've never had to use the great outdoors as a toilet
(I did once have to use an authentic outhouse
on a school field trip--and I always wondered if
outhouse users ever got splinters
in their behinds...).
I'm not going to put into practice much of the
knowledge gained in Worst Case Scenario. But this
doesn't mean that I can't admire a beautiful moon or a
glorious sunrise....from my air conditioned home...
with a cup of coffee fresh from the microwave....


In other news:
I am coughing like a smoker for some unknown reason.
I'm not sick. My body just decided to try on a cough
yesterday and hasn't gotten tired of it yet.
I'm tired of it. It kind of makes me feel like
I have battery acid in my chest.

People are coming to stay with us tomorrow night
(if the much threatened snow doesn't prevent them).
They are old friends of Lloyd Dobblers and they are
coming to town for a funeral, a quick trip. They have
stayed with us before. The hubby won't be with them
this time, just the mom and the four kids.
You know how somebody can do something weird
at your house and then every time you think of them,
you think of that weird thing.
One time the dad of this same family came and stayed
here one night by himself and even though I keep nice
big fluffy bath towels in the guest room bathroom,
he dried off after showering with a hand towel.
This struck me as really odd.
But just now I had the thought:
maybe he didn't shower.
Maybe that's why he didn't need the big towel.
It seems like I knew he had showered though.
I don't know how I would have known that.
I don't keep surveillance video of the guest room.
I just always think of him as someone drying off after
a shower with the smallest piece of terry cloth
he can get his hands on.

Not me.
I want a towel for my body and a towel for my hair
and a towel-strewn path for my feet to trod upon.

But I need to get things ready for the visitors today.
Not that I am putting on the dog or anything. I mainly need
to get all my junk out of the guest room.
The guest room is my favorite room.
It's where I park when I want to do stuff.
I'm there right now in my pink comfy chair.
I have a small table on either side of me where
I pile the books I am reading and the 49 notebooks
and journals that I write stuff in. Peter Walsh would
be so uncomfortable in this chair.

Dang Dang Dang

Well, Dear Reader, I warned you.
I told you that I would be first in line
if it was to start snowing again and I just have to say
---mutter mutter mumble blech.
Stupid snow.
And this is not even the big snow that they
threatening us with; that's later in the week.
Yesterday was like Spring.
Fifty something degrees
(and Mrs. JP, I can't do the symbol for degrees on my lap top.
Does the hubby know why this is?).
It was gorgeous.
Spring-like.
Just lovely.
Even this morning, when I went out to run errands
with the babes, I didn't even wear a jacket.
It hAIled a little while we were out, much to the
delight of the babes. We were in the Walmart
parking lot, just about to unload and run into the
store when Lovely K said "Hell! Oh boy, it's hell!"
I always find myself emphasizing the AI in that word
and sometimes even spelling it for the kids.
They nod and tell me they are aware of how it is
spelled, but it still sounds like they say
"hell" instead of "hail."

In other news:
I bought a wad of yard and knitting needles today.
I bought knitting needles for Lovely K too.
I tried to follow this sheet of diagrams for about
42 seconds and decided to wait until I am in a better
frame of mind. I have to switch everything around in
my head (since everything in the whole entire world
is designed for right handed people---due to the stupid snow,
I am sure) and my head is just not able to do that right now.
I'm trying to get a little boy to figure out what he is doing
wrong on a Math test so he can correct it and I'm trying to
cook supper and I'm trying to tune out a baby who has decided
to fuss and cry until I stop everything and sit in the floor with him
in my lap. He has been Mama's boy in OVERDRIVE ever since
he was sick. He thinks he can just cry and get what he wants.
Oh my, he really hasn't been paying attention these last
13 months, has he? That's not the way we roll here
on the homestead.

Okay.
So roasted chicken, potato salad, baked beans,
corn, and salad for supper.
Basketball practice was canceled due to the stupid snow.
So we're just home for a night of laundry
and Math test correction.
I think I should go find the Excedrin now
before I grow horns out of my skull and turn into
an actual monster.

I blame this headache on the snow too.
Just FYI.

And I keep forgetting to tell Mrs. JP
that she had on the cutest shoes when I last saw her.
So there. She can just read it here
and you can all wonder about her shoes.

Super Bell XLV

Did you have a super Super Bowl?
Do you get into the Super Bowl, Dear Reader?
Here's what I love about the Super Bowl
(and also any other occasion that merits
the making of this item I love):
Spinach Dip.
Sometimes the only reason you go to a friend's
31/Tupperware/Jewelry party is the Spinach Dip.
And I do think that Spinach Dip should be capitalized.
To show respect.
Spinach Dip should be made at every holiday, because
it's too dangerous to have around the house on ordinary
days. But I love Spinach Dip. And to those who say
you love people, not things, they need to eat some
Spinach Dip so they can get a fuller understanding
of what it is to love things.
I do love Spinach Dip.
You have to make it with the Knorr soup seasonings though.
That's the best ever in the whole wide world. Don't be
fooled by whatever they use in Romania for their
Spinach Dip. It's not as good as the Knorr recipe.

There have been times that I have cared about the
Super Bowl a little bit. Not this year. Not even
when I watched the last three minutes of the game.
I just didn't care.
I was glad for that Rodgers guy when I heard his
back story, but I didn't even hear that until after
the game. I was too busy with
my Spinach Dip rendezvous.

What Super Bowl was it?
#315?
I saw those Roman numerals there and pondered
this during the three minutes of the game that I did watch,
but I wasn't sure. Guess who is not good with the
Roman numerals? Guess who is glad Roman numerals
were thoroughly taught in the Horizon's math curriculum
that we used to use? Guess who asks her daughter
"What number is that?" And then I pretend that
I'm just testing her knowledge. As though I would
know if she got it wrong.
(We're not talking about the easy ones, like Chapter IV
in a book. But I've never read a book
that had XLCDV chapters.)
At times like these, when I think about
the multitude of information that never found
a resting place in my brain, I just blame it on
my quality public education.
I was not a bad student. I got good grades.
But you can do that without actually
learning things.
Scary, isn't it?

Speaking of my quality public education,
today I went to the house of a teacher I had in high school.
She taught in the home economics department.
(I don't think they have those classes anymore, do they?)
I had to pick up something from her. I took her
a little bag of those pecan sandies cookies that I made
last week (do you think people who pop in to visit
their old shop teachers take them a tie rack they just happened
to make the week before?). She came over to the
van and looked over all my children. I was so pleased
that they didn't act like MANIACS when she came
to give them the once over.
You know how kids can do that sometimes.

Did I ever tell you about the time one of my kids
said the most hilarious, out-of-character thing
in front of a person from my past?
The person I ran into in the grocery store was
a guy I used to date. In fact, I don't think I had seen
him since we broke up---and that would have been
like 15 years at the time. So I'm stand there with
my three babes (this was before Baby J) making polite
chit chat, but we really had nothing to say to each other.
In a moment of awkward silence, Big E
(who never speaks to strangers and was way
more shy then than he is now)
this child steps out in front of this man and
just as loud and clear as possible says to him,
"Our father has died."
The old boyfriend looked at me in shock,
and I was shocked at Big E saying this.
And how funny to have your child say this
to an old boyfriend.
Like he was trying to help his
widowed mother get a date or something.
It was just so funny to me.
And I burst into a laugh.
It still makes me laugh.
You just never know what these kids
are going to come out with.

That's why I was glad that they weren't
taking off their clothes or picking their noses
or telling family secrets when my old teacher
came to check them out.

The bullets are back, baby!

• Maybe I think better in bullet form on Fridays (when co-op is going on) because my brain is fried by the end of that day. It certainly is fried today. Is it bedtime yet? Please?
• I have been making potato salad since we got home this afternoon. I am making potato salad for 60 to 100 people for a party tomorrow. And here's what I am thinking: these people at this party are going to eat this potato salad if I have to cram it down their throats myself. My kitchen is a wreck. I'm only 2/3 of the way done. I would like to find the person who invented potato salad and give them a good swift kick.
• Lovely K told me I should just make enough potato salad for 59 to 99 people because she won't be eating any. Thank you, sweet girl.
• Speaking of Lovely K, she won 2nd place in an art expressions contest at our home school co-op today. They passed out this same picture for anyone under junior high to color and that's what she did. She got 2nd in that. They also had a category where you could enter whatever art you wanted (so I entered the Mona Lisa---no, not whatever art you wanted, your own original art). My little knitting buddy won first place with her painting of a snow man. This child has some artistic talent, I tell you. I am so proud of her. And she is a very special girl.
• My parents' new kitchen is almost done. I have been so excited about this remodeling project. Today they finished installing the new cabinets and counter tops. I saw them 3/4 of the way done with that yesterday, but they didn't have the counter tops on them yet so I didn't get the full effect. Monday the new flooring goes down and then it will be finished. I am so excited about this new kitchen for them. It has just improved their house so much. And my mom will really enjoy it. She is a good cook and spends most of her time in the kitchen. I think she will be just tickled pink when it is all done.
• In my quest to reach enlightenment.....(giggle), yeah right. Whatever. As I try to keep the last few brain cells I have from fading into oblivion, I am going to learn to knit. I'm watching these little kids in this class learn to do this and surely if they can do it, I can. It's kind of funny that I am a helper in this beginning knitting class since I know NOTHING about knitting. I can't emphasize NOTHING enough. Well, it's not totally nothing now. You might be impressed (ha!) to know that I have learned that knitting uses two sticks and crochet uses only one. You might wonder why I am still calling those things they use "sticks," but perhaps that should help you to understand what a true help I am to the high school student who is teaching these little kids to knit. I feel badly that I am so NOT a help to her. Today I was joking that I should also be helping in guitar and Latin and small engine repair since I would be similarly helpful in those classes.
  
• My 13 month old son comes and stands beside me when he fills his diaper. I just thought I would share that with you. Why does he do this? What in his little baby brain makes him think "this would be a good time to go stand by Mama"? I do not know.
• I think we may escape the winter wonderland they've threatened. I sure hope so.
• Have a lovely weekend, Dear Reader!
  

Pavlov's Baby

I'm sure you know about the whole Pavlov concept.
The dogs. The bell (not me, that's a lower case "b").
The response.
And I don't know if I've ever told you about this or not,
but I've had this on-going Pavlovian experiment with my
own Baby J. Yes, you heard me.
I'm messing with the child's mind.
It boils down to this musical thing that used to be part of a
mobile that hung over his bed. There are choices on the
little musical thing, like a juke box for the babes.

Only the choices are not as fabulous and pertinent as
the juke box provided for you, Dear Reader.

There is some kind of toy beside choice #1 showing
that this is slightly peppy music for playtime. There are
waves beside choice #2 to let you know that the
second button will play the sound of ocean waves.
Beside button #3 there is a rocking chair to signify
that this is the lullaby, sleepy time music.
I always press button #3 and let that music play when
I put Baby J down to sleep. Always.
For 13 months anyway.
Even now if he's not exactly in the sleep mode and I bring
him into his room to change him and put him down,
I will press that button as soon as we go into the room
and it lets him know that it's time to settle down.
It does have that effect that
I was hoping to have on him.
It's the signal for sleep.
You ring the bell and the dogs want to be fed.
You play that music and the baby settles down.
It's a great thing.

Until the batteries just die in the middle of the day
and you have only two C cell batteries
when three are needed.

And then you leave your house twice and forget
to buy any silly batteries. And so every nap time
and bedtime, this child is not hearing Pavlov's lullaby
as he is accustomed to. I don't know if this is
the only reason that we have hit a bumpy spot
in the sleeping road. I realize the child was very sick
and up at night because of that sickness last week.
So maybe his internal clock has some alarm going off
at weird times. He's out of his sleep pattern.
Or he's just not settling down for bed like he should.
But I would be willing to lay down money that if I had
that third battery right now
and popped it into that musical thing
(I have no idea what to call it,
so be satisfied with my word choice, okay?
It is a THING.)
that he would roll over on his side and ride off
on the Sleepytime Express.
And if you think I am coming home tomorrow
without a C cell battery,
you better think again, my friend.

Bahama Mama?

Thursday is like my Friday, because Fridays
are not normal days for us. We get up Friday morning
and run out the door to our home school co-op. We don't
get home until in the afternoon when we are all tired.
Then Friday nights are pizza and movie and that has become
carved in stone. But I don't mind it being carved in stone.
It's like the one night I don't have to wonder about.
Some Fridays I make the pizza (because I'm thrifty like that),
some Fridays I order it. I don't have to remember to
get a movie anymore since Netflix came into our life.
(I love Netflix. Have I told you that?)

So it's Thursday and Thursday feels like the end of the week
to me. We take spelling tests on Thursday. We make
sure the bathrooms are clean by Thursday (I did them
yesterday, all four of them by myself---I like for the kids
to be learning how to clean them, but after sickness or
just every now and then for the sake of thoroughness,
they need to be cleaned by a professional--but I do them
since we have no professionals around here).

This has been a good week.
I have thought that all week long, and even while I have
been thinking it, I have been wondering why.

Maybe one large reason is that no one has been
sick this week. That's something I am appreciating greatly.

Another reason might be this: I have chilled out.
What does this mean?
I am trying to have realistic expectations.
I am not trying to build Rome in a day.
I am not comparing myself to others.
I am not going to worry if my kids ever do a craft or not
(and the chance of you NOT doing a craft profoundly
increases when you are around me).
I have remembered to have the kids
go over The Lord's Prayer
which they are supposed to be memorizing.
I am trying to look at the big picture.
I'm trying to remember what is really important.


I made those yummy Pecan Sandies (cookies) one night.
I watched a new favorite show with Lloyd Dobbler
after the kids went to bed (we love English humor).
I accidentally slept late two mornings--
and didn't let it ruin my entire day
which would be my normal reaction.
We started reading a biography of Jim Elliot.
I started making a list of curriculum
to purchase for next school year.
(Heads up: next school year is going to be expensive.)
I spent an entire day listening to
John Piper and Mark Driscoll on youtube.
I started making plans to go to a home school convention
with a friend this spring; I'm going to leave my family
for a few days. When is the last time I have done that?
Have I ever done that? I don't think so.
I'm kind of looking forward to it. Not to mention
the great speakers I am going to get to hear.

These are some of the things
I have done this week.

I have not done everything.
There's still a pile of stuff on the floor behind the curtain
in the living room. There are empty boxes in the dining
room I was supposed to already have filled with items
I am parting with. The Christmas wreath is still on
the front door. Sweet T has only written one thank
you note from his birthday.

It helps that my in-laws were here this weekend
and that my MIL did laundry like there was no tomorrow.
She even ironed most of the ironing pile. So I haven't
done any laundry until today. Not that I couldn't have,
but I just didn't. You know how laundry is a never-ending
thing that you can multiply times 10 for every living being
wearing clothes under your roof.

I saw a card today that said
"I love you more than cheese."
Please don't send me this card.

I hope you aren't covered up
in snow somewhere, Dear Reader.
I know some of you are not. Some of you are wearing
tank tops in California at this very moment.
(I'd like to, as your Blogland Neighbor, borrow a cup of warmth.)
But you might be in a snow drift somewhere in the Midwest.
I know that some people are. I hope you,
my lovely Dear Reader,
are not having to read this by candle light while you
burn encyclopedia pages for warmth. I hope you are
safe and warm and well.
They are threatening us with more ridiculous winter weather
this weekend. Ugh. I could say a lot more about that,
but I will just say "ugh."
Am I going to complain about snow and cold?
I shouldn't, but if it starts happening, you know
I'll be first in line. Maybe I should move to the Bahamas
and look up my old college room mate Gina from there.
I'd love to find her again anyway. We used to just
laugh our heads off. She was such fun.
And that accent. I loved to hear her talk.
More than cheese.
Anybody know a Gina Fergeson from Nassau?
I think she came from a large family. I think he father
was a pastor and her mother wore those kind of dresses
with the matching hats that you see older
black ladies wear in movies.
One of her brothers called me years ago on Christmas Day
and that was funny. I bet she is somewhere
in the island sunshine laughing with her brother today.
Yes, I think if it snows I should fly down to the Bahamas
and start looking for her, just going door to door.
You can come with me and help.

Input/Output

I've listened to a lot of John Piper today.
Filled my head with a lot of thoughts.
Filled my heart too.
Here's one I listened to a minute ago.
Just thought I'd share with you.

I'm also very interested
in getting the book Radical by David Platt.
Anybody read this?