37 pounds

• The weight of my 6 year old before we went strawberry picking yesterday.
• The number of pounds of strawberries that made it onto the scales after we'd picked for two hours.
• The amount of strawberries we might have consumed that didn't quite make it into our buckets.
• How much sugar it will take to process all these berries into jam.
• How much weight I'll gain if I eat all that jam.

Pride

I've got to take a minute to brag on my brother's photo site. If you haven't taken the time to check out wyattjourney.com, you're missing out. Take a look at yesterday's photo - spectacular!

The Neighborhood Grouch

Remember when you were a kid, there was an old lady in your neighborhood that never talked to you unless she was yelling?

"Get off my grass!"

"What are you kids doing?"

"If I catch your dog on my property one more time..."

I might have turned into that lady. I don't mind when kids come over to play when my kids are out with them, but when I catch a half dozen boys up the walnut tree...

"Everybody down! Go play in your own yard."

And last night, when I caught a bunch of them red handed, picking my under ripe strawberries...

"Get over here! Don't you toss that berry off in the bushes. I SAW you pick it."

The problem is two fold. One: what kind of parents are letting their kids play in my back yard without knowing where they are? If one of the kids falls out of the tree, I'm pretty sure that's my fault. Two: (here's where the grouch comes in) I planted those berries, I tended them, watered them, weeded them and have been watching for them to turn red. About 3 more days and the first ones will be ready for tasting. Or-at least-they would have been. Now I'll have to wait another week or so.

I think what I'm discovering is that, while I like to share, I like to do it on my own terms. If I give food to the neighbors, I want to pick it, bag it, and hand it over with a smile.

Is this a pineapple story, where I'm trying to hang onto something that really doesn't belong to me? Or am I just eager to enjoy the fruit of my labor?

Self Esteem

We had a certificate night with some other home schoolers last night. It was a chance to praise each child for an area of excellence. For us, this was a good year academically.

My husband presented each of our children with a certificate, said some good words about each one and we gave them each roses.

On the way home, the youngest asked, "Why do people give other people flowers?"

"To make them feel special," I said. "Do you feel special?"

She didn't skip a beat before boasting,

"I AM special!"

Gorge-ous

The kids were wondering why every hike we take seems to end at a waterfall. What can I say? When you live near the mountains and it rains all the time, what other destination is more likely?

What a Funeral Should Be

Ira Pirtle died this week at the age of 93.

His funeral this morning was what a funeral should be. He lived a long, productive and happy life. His children and friends and grandchildren(and even his son-in-law) rose up to call him blessed.

People shared stories that made me laugh, that made me cry, that made me remember.

Ira was a joy to know, from his impish twinkling eyes, to his ready word of encouragement, to his insatiable appetite for pie. He lived a full life, loved well, and will be fondly remembered.

He lived his life so close to God that his departure from this life was no great struggle, rather an easy hop across the headwaters of the Jordan into the land of promise.

Well over 200 of us gathered to remember Ira and I know of many, many more who wish they could have been there.

Bon voyage, Ira. And thanks for all the ways you've laid foundations for those of us who come behind.

The Answer

Used Car Lot

This was our driveway this morning. The cars, left to right, are

• the totalled Toyota Sienna which will go to salvage later today


• my husband's 1980 Toyota pickup


• the rental car, a Dodge Grand Caravan


• our "new" Honda Odyssey, the replacement for the wrecked van

Someone rang our doorbell asking to buy one of these vehicles.

One guess. Which one?

Eco-Terrorism

Yesterday, I did something I've wanted to do for a very long time. I hiked a 4-mile portion of the Pacific Crest Trail (only about 2,000 miles to go). I was a little nervous about parking the rental car at the trail head, but - hey - it's just us good guys out on a lovely spring day, right?

Um, wrong.

While we were on the hike, someone stuck a bumper sticker to the rental car. A good one.

By a good one, I don't mean the sticker's message was one I want to share with the world. I mean it's got great adhesive and it's going to be a pain to remove carefully enough to not damage the paint.

What kind of person goes out of their way to put stickers on other people's stuff? I can't imagine doing something like that... just like I can't imagine attacking someone going into a fur store or spraying graffiti on the side of a house or egging a car or blowing up a mailbox.

It seems like there are better ways to get a point across.

Teddy Roosevelt Speaks

It's not every day you get to sit at the feet of a past president and listen to him regale the crowd with stories of his failures and triumphs. But last night, we got just that opportunity.

Teddy Roosevelt, our 26th president, was a joy to listen to. From leading the Rough Riders in the Spanish American War, to starting the National Parks system, to winning the Nobel Peace Prize, to championing the digging of Panama Canal, this president accomplished so much in his lifetime.

It was my privilege to invite and host Joe Wiegand, Teddy Roosevelt repriser, and his family on their 48-state tour in honor of TR's 150th birthday. In meeting them, I was impressed by their dedication to this dream. They left their home and a stable life to experience God's faithfulness day by day on the road. They trust him to provide the next venue and enough funds for gas and food. And at each stage, they acknowledge God's providence... like the fact that last night's show was dedicated to Andrew Shields, a local soldier who died in Afghanistan this week... and that the chaplain who delivered the notice to his family was in the audience last night.

Joe is not shy in his reprisal about letting Roosevelt share his own faith. He uses the president's own words to express God's faithfulness in the midst of extreme tragedy.

Take a look at his website and see if he's heading your way. His performance is worth an evening of your time. And if he's in the neighborhood but not performing in your town, drop him a line to see about acting as his coordinator for your area.

It's worth it.

Total Loss

A quick update for those who asked about me and my car. Yesterday, the other guy's insurance company called to say they're declaring my car a total loss.

A total loss.

What a sad phrase. We're trying to work through our insurance to renegotiate a settlement that will be enough to replace this van (that I was planning to drive for another ten years or so).

But I'll tell you what has really been a total loss...

My week.

I've spent more time with insurance agents, car rental lots, body shop guys and mechanics, advice nurses and chiropractors than I ever care to again. Even conversations with friends go something like this:

"I'm so sorry your fish died and/or your house was robbed and/or your children are in juvie. Did I tell you they're totalling my car?"

Besides all that phone time, I've lost a week's worth of work. With the older kids farmed out, I had planned to get a ton of writing done.

I've written two pages.

And they're not that good.

So, as you can see, I not feeling very Pollyanna-ish right now. Honestly, I know this isn't the worst situation in the world. It's just an inconvenience (or as Barb reminds me, a light and momentary trial).

Still...

Simplify

My friend gave me a sign. It says

S
I
M
P
L
I
F
Y

Problem is, I've got it leaning up against the wall behind my printer and a stack of books. So, really how it reads is

S
I
M
P
L
I
F

Hopefully, I'll get it hung soon as a reminder to keep down the clutter, both in the house and in my spirit. On the other hand, if things keep going how they are, soon I might only be able to see

S
I
M
P

which is old slang for SIMPLETON.

Which might be about right.

Rewriting the Rewritten

Somehow the famous history stories of childhood take on a gilded glow.

In fourteen hundred ninety two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

Doesn't that sound lovely?

Until someone rewrote history to let us know of the atrocities Europe wreaked on the "New World."

But today I stood on the deck of a replica of the Nina, the ship Columbus sailed back and forth 3 times across the ocean blue and, I've got to say... I'm impressed. Only 66 feet long, with no accommodations for the crew other than a piece of deck and captain's quarters that looked more like a foot locker than a place for the explorers of new lands... there is no way I would have set out on that boat into the unknown. It takes a special sort of chutzpah to take on so dramatic a task.

So, whatever bumps in history the famous voyage brought about, I'm still thankful Cristobal trusted this little ship enough to carry out his exploration. I, for one, love it here.

The Sounds of Silence

I don't know what your life is like, but I rarely - and I mean RARELY - am alone. In my almost 13 years as a parent, I've only been completely alone a handful of times for more than a few minutes at a time.

Tonight I've had 5 hours, just me and the dog.

It's kind of strange. What do you do with 5 whole hours to yourself? Here's what I did...

• I planted a few more seeds in the vegetable garden where nothing had sprouted.
• I killed a few weeds and watered the flowers out front.
• I put together the church announcement slide show for Sunday.
• I ate 2 cookies, then went back and ate 2 more, just to make it even.
• I updated my list of newspapers in Oregon, preparing for a big news release I need to send out tomorrow for an upcoming writers conference.
• I watched the National Spelling Bee, the only spectator sport I enjoy, probably because it only happens once a year.
• I picked out the book I'm going to fall asleep to.

Perhaps more telling is what I didn't do...

• I didn't vacuum, though the living room needs it.
• I didn't put the boxes up in the shed (I only climb ladders if there's someone around who can dial 9-1-1)
• I didn't write. I'm actually getting a couple of quiet hours in the morning when I can create.
• I didn't fix dinner. Imagine. Cookies and popcorn. I couldn't live on it, but it was easy and tasty.
• I didn't put my clothes away. I'll have to clear them off my side of the bed before I sleep, but they've laid in there all night and haven't said a word.
• I didn't call my husband... or my mom... or my friends.
• I didn't go to a store or a movie. I thought about it, but thought that would ruin the effect of being alone.

Some of you are alone a lot. Others, never. What would you do with 5 hours all by yourself?

Change of Plans

On my way to pick up a friend's child for a play date, I was struck (quite literally) by the way unexpected events derail our plans. We go about our lives as if we're in control, but a million different events, over which we have no control at all, can change those plans in a heartbeat.

It's amazing how priorities are realigned in the midst of chaos.

By the way, I'm fine. A little stiff tonight. I'll see how I feel in the morning. The car will need major work, though - hopefully I'll get permission from insurance to get the work started tomorrow.

If you have to get rear-ended (which I don't recommend), it's nice to get hit by someone who promises to pray for you.

Endless Summer

Officially, it's over. The 2007-2008 school year, that is. Unofficially, I still want the kids working on French a few times a week, one of the older kids has about 45 minutes worth of work to do before she's free and the younger one really shouldn't stop practicing her handwriting.

Officially, though, we're on summer vacation.

Long, hot, lazy days sprawl before us, promising relaxation and sun.

If you buy that, you don't live in America. Somehow, the summer is filling up with swimming lessons and camping trips, birthday parties, doctor appointments, and standardized testing, visits from grandparents and the promise of a new nephew. Alas, those lazy days of summer seem to be reserved in the minds of those of us with memory loss.

This summer, I want to write. I want to catch up with all my friends, clean out the pantry and the cabinet under the bathroom sink, and grow a freezer full of vegetables. I want to walk through the farmers market with the generation before me and hold a baby in my arms from the generation after.

I want to make the world a little bit better place and help my kids to do the same.

What are you doing this summer?

Drumroll, Please...

And the winners from the book drawings are...

Dum-da-dum!

Blindsided goes to Zack, who entered by phone.

Every Secret Thing goes to Linda. (can you send me your address?)

Greg is our only double winner with Vessel of Honor and A Promise for Ellie.

The Bible or the Axe goes to Sandi (I drew it randomly, I promise!)

Shelli won The Parting.

And the Max and Me Mysteries go to Jackie.

Ta da!

I'll try to get these in the mail on Tuesday. Congrats to all the winners and, to those who didn't win this time, keep coming back. Maybe I'll try this again some time!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog.

Day 5 - Mysteries for Kids

Okay, last day of the book giveaway for this round (though I still have at least enough to do another week).

Today's books happen to be by a friend of mine, Pat Rushford. Pat's been writing mysteries for teenagers and adults for years. She's one of those people who's good at anything she tries - nurse and counselor, retreat organizer, conference director, quilter and knitter extraordinaire.

These are the first two books in her Max and Me mystery series. I'd say they're best suited to kids 10-13.

Jessie is twelve, smart, and bald. Leukemia has taken away her hair and her strength, but not her desire to be like the other kids her age. Her friend Max sees beyond her illness and drags her into all kinds of adventures.


Most of the books on my review shelf look like they've never been read.

These don't.

They're still in good shape, but two young people snatched these up and read them before I had a chance.

They gave the thumbs up.

I do, too.

Write a comment if you'd like to have them.

Day 4 - Into Africa and Out Again

Vessel of Honor by Melvin J. Cobb is a fictionalized account of what happened to the Ethiopian chamberlain of Acts 8 after his return to his homeland. He feels the need to rectify old relationships, right past wrongs, and turn his back on the ruthless ways of his past. How will his changes affect those who depend on him?


I love the idea of this book and I'm excited about the line it comes from, the Institute for Black and Family Development. This imprint, in association with Moody Publishers, is reaching out to the African-American Community with stories and books that shed light on their culture and their history.


Another book by the same imprint is The Bible or the Axe. This is the true story of William Ochan Levi, a Christian who grew up as a refugee in Uganda. When he returned to his homeland of Sudan, he faced persectution, arrest and torture. This is the story of his escape from his jihadist captors and his war-torn country. It raises the question of how we should fight, with the worldly weapons or the word of God.

Leave a comment if you want a chance at these books.

Day 3 - Prairie Duet

I got hooked on Christian fiction reading the prairie romances of Janette Oke and the sweet, simple stories of Grace Livingston Hill. Though the genre has grown to include thrillers and contemporary stories, literary fiction and mysteries, the backbone of the market belong to historical fiction.

Lauraine Snelling, with her Red River of the North Series, has put the town of Blessing on the map.

Literally.

Her North Dakota stories are so popular and have brought so many people to the area looking for the town of Blessing, that the town of Drayton's city council proclaimed it's town the official site of the settlement of Blessing.

A Promise for Ellie is the first book in the Daughters of Blessing series, the continuing story of the next generation in the Red River Valley.

Beverly Lewis has made a name for herself writing novels about the Pennsylvania Amish. Her books, based on real life events, tell the stories of simpler times. But not as simple as we like to think. The Parting is the first book in the Courtship of Nellie Fisher series. It tells the story of one young woman in a community at its breaking point.

Do you wish you had these books in your library? Leave a comment, they could be yours!

Day 2 - Every Secret Thing

Every Secret Thing by Ann Tatlock is the story of a teacher who returns to her own high school to teach. The place and the people stir up memories and bring up old questions. She opens her heart to new people and, in helping them work through their problems, finds she must deal with her own.

Every Secret Thing tells its story in a more layered, a more pattered way, than I've come to expect from Christian fiction. I found it to be a good read.

If you'd like a copy of this book, leave a comment and I'll pick a name at random at the end of the week.

5 Day Give-Away

One blessing of doing book reviews is that I have new books show up in my mailbox from time to time. Some I ask for, others I don't. And while most of them get read, very few fit my criteria for review.

So, for this week, I'm going to pass a bit of the blessing on to you. Each day I'll post a different book, with a little blurb about it. If you'd be interested in a free copy of the book, leave a comment and I'll choose at random who gets each one. I've read some of these books, but not others.

Today's pick is Blindsided by Calvin Miller, published by BH Publishing Group in September 2007.

"The only one who saw it coming was the one who could not see."

Calvin Miller, best known for his book The Singer, presents a modern thriller. In this tale, a blind priest and pet wolf hold the key to breaking up a Muslim terrorist group in Seattle.

Interested?

The Winner Is?

Hmmm...

There seems to be a bit of discrepancy in the counter. The 15,000th visitor could have been from Juneau or from Yelm.

The Yelmer will get something for being the probable 15,000th visitor. And the Juneau-ite might just get a prize for effort!

Thanks for playing. I'm cooking up something a little different for next week. ("Different?" you say. "I didn't know there was a theme for this blog.")

Just wait and see!

True Love

The old oven fizzled and sparked,
Electrical blue currents arched.
With a pop and sput,
microwave went kaput,
And they saw that it no longer warked.



He stayed up until midnight and past,
To put in the new one, right fast.
Cuz' he knew in the morn,
She'd be awfully torn
'Tween the ov'n and skillet, ir'n cast.

One good turn another deserves,
So she cranked out some meals and preserves.
25, if you please,
Some for now, some to freeze,

"Love you, too," she did say with hors d'oeuvres.

tunnel vision

When I was doing my student teaching at the School for the Deaf, there was a middle school girl (deaf, of course) who had just found out she was losing her vision. Her eyesight was expected to grow narrower and narrower over the coming months until the last blurry spot of light finally blinked out. Her brother suffered the same disease and had committed suicide.

I think about that girl from time to time. I wonder how she's doing, if she ever adjusted to the darkness. The silence, she was already used to. She was one of the brightest stars in the signing club, dancing and signing the words to "High Cotton" and "Wind Beneath My Wings."

I think about her on days like today when I am jolted out of my little world to be reminded that people in Oklahoma and Missouri spent Mother's Day in the path of tornadoes, that the people of Myanmar still don't have the basic help they need, that the mothers of central China are digging for the children in the rubble left by an earthquake.

Every person is the center of his or her own universe. Everyone interprets the world through his or her own set of eyes. Today was a reminder to me to open my eyes a little wider, to fight against my own narrow view of life.

Just Like Me

1. She's short... or, in the words of Wilbur, low to the ground.

2. She's serious most of the time, with bursts of energy and enthusiasm.

3. She likes to sleep in the sun.

4. She enjoys a good cuddle as long as it's gentle.

5. She doesn't have much to say.

6. She loves the smell of a nice, juicy steak.

7. She'd overdose on chocolate if she could.

8. She naps before bedtime.

9. She appreciates a little recognition once in a while.

10. She loves her family.

Out Standing in Her Field

It's been a year since I blogged about some women I know who were facing breast cancer treatments. Jane had a tough time with chemo and surgery. I prayed for her lots and missed hearing her talk about her cherries and strawberries and all the other fruits she loves to can.

I stopped by to pick some rhubarb at Jane's today and it was so good to see her back out in her garden. It's where she belongs.

I guess I'm getting to the age when I'm always going to know someone with cancer. Anita's on my prayer list now. Her search for 3 good things in every day and her view of cancer as an opportunity have elevated her to hero status for me. I love the attitude that took her to the hills to offer her thinning hair to the birds for their nests.

Jane and Pam, Carol and Larry and Allen. Anita and sweet Linda. There's a strength and beauty that is born through their suffering.

Chances Are...

My blog visitor counter should roll over to 15,000 some time in the next week or so. If you are visitor #15,000, post a comment and I'll send you something. (Knowing me, probably a book)

I'll try to say something worth reading between now and then so you have a reason other than a MAJOR PRIZE for stopping by.

Good luck!

The Little Guy

We have some new neighbors in the garden, a pair of chickadees who have chosen to nest in a birdhouse one of the kids made years ago. I thought I was going to have to call this picture "evicted" as a couple of bossy sparrows tried to kick the chickadees out. Lucky for the chickadees, the sparrows were too heavy, broke off the little perch, and had to move to a place with a sturdier front porch.

So, the little guy triumphs.

Have you heard of The Rebelution? It's a teen-led movement encouraging teens to rebel against the low expectations of the world. The idea that we can set out own goals and reach for them shouldn't be earthshaking, but it is. We've been programmed to reach for the lowest common denominator and we've succeeded spectacularly.

And then there's the chickadee.

Do you have any stories to share about great things being accomplished by the little guy? (No Napoleon jokes, please.) Any kids who have done spectacular things?

Unfinished Business

Leonardo da Vinci took years, sometimes decades, to finish a painting. He was such a perfectionist, he would work on a picture for a time, then set it aside to work on it later. Some of his most famous paintings remained unfinished after his death. He couldn't bear to let his creations go until they were exactly how he wanted them.

I might be related to da Vinci. Or at least my father is. He has a series of paintings he's working on which may never see the light of day as he adjusts, tweaks, repaints, and corrects.

I know the feeling.

I got another rejection back on my book proposal yesterday. It's the 3rd of three that said, "I really like this idea, but it needs some MAJOR work to make it shine."

My first reaction was to throw up my hands and say, "I quit. I'm just not a writer." My second reaction, though, is to say, "I really believe in this story. I want to make it work." What I don't want to do is chase after the market. I've tried that and it's a lot of work for a very unsatisfying result.

So, now my question is, do I leave the manuscript in the archives while I pursue something else or do I take it out and give it another go?

Loosening the Apron Strings

This is such a great picture of what being a parent is about. Supporting at the beginning, then running along beside for protection. Hovering and watching for a while, then granting independence.

I think God treats his kids that way, too. He never lets us go beyond his reach, but gives us the choice of how to live our lives. I like to think he's the type of father who always makes sure his kids wear their helmets.

Seasonal Schizophrenia

It seems to be a spring of indecision.

Obama or Clinton? Each primary comes with much fanfare, but no movement towards a decision, mocking the banner ads that announce "Decision 2008!" on every newscast.

Even the weather can't make up its mind. We had snow and hail last week, a balmy day today, but we're headed back into winter on Tuesday.

Sigh.

Make up your mind already!

The More Things Change...

I was one of the youngest in my class. I think Mark and Amy were the only two with birthdays after mine. But this year has been an endless succession of congratulations on 40th birthdays on my class email loop.

At what point did I realize my mortality? Was it when the lady who used to come to my door begging for food died of AIDS? When I drove Suzanne's father to the hospital in the morning and drove his body to the village the same afternoon? When I listened to my father deliver one of several eulogies he's done lately? The dear people who did so much for us in helping us get to Africa are finishing their lives.

And time marches on. The children become the parents and then the grandparents. The baby grows taller than her mother. The world winds down and we look beyond.

I'm feeling melancholy tonight, thinking about loved ones who fight for life, who yearn for health, who long for home.

Books, Books, Books

Now for the books I'm planning to read...


Honestly, I had a list, but I found it rather confining. I like to just pick up a book and see where it leads me. No plans. No expectations.

Just the freedom of being pulled from world to world in the endless wonder of story.

My Life In Six Words Challenge

I've been hearing about the six word autobiography challenge here and there. The challenge: to sum up your life in six words.

Here's mine.

Journey between now and not yet.

What's yours?

happiness is...

...a good book.

...a good friend.

...a hot drink.

...a new mug.

...and a warm puppy.

Back to the Books

And now... back to my regularly scheduled life. I honestly feel that way. Dog search and rescue ate my whole week and I've not been so relieved in a very long time. But, I started following Dad's trend to list all the books I've read recently, all I'm currently reading, and what I'm planning to read.

So, here's installment 2 - books I'm currently reading.

Demon: A Memoir by Tosca Lee. A demon and an editor collaborate on their magnum opus.

Healing Stones: A Sullivan Crisp Novel by Nancy Rue and Stephen Arterburn. A story about healing and forgiveness in the aftermath of an affair.

The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an ordinary radical by Shane Claiborn. On how little acts of love can change the world.

Covenant by Kay Arthur. A Bible study I'm supposed to be doing with a friend, but I've fallen way behind. (Don't give up on me!)

Proofreading and Copyediting for Dummies.

Postcards from France, French in Action, C'est Comme Ca, and a bunch of other books I'm using as we work on our French"semi-immersion, kinda" month.

Blood Brothers by Rick Acker. Fraud, corruption and bribery bring brothers to blows.

What are you reading? Anything good?

Lost and Found

Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn't you leave the other ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it?


The little dog ran away on Friday. The kids ran after her, but (Thank you, God) they stopped short of the freeway. I turned the younger kids and extra pets over to some friends and started the longest, most intense search I could manage, with the help of a lot of friends, some strangers, and the older kids. We must have had 30 people out looking for the little gal over the next 4 days.

I was out each morning, with or without help, walking through the neighborhood, talking to strangers, tromping through wetlands and trespassing on all kinds of property. Fliers, business cards, craigslist ads, visits to the humane society, calls to vets and animal hospitals, calls for prayer. Oh, please God, bring the little puppy home.

When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulder, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, "Celebrate with me! I've found my lost sheep!"

We got the call this afternoon just as we were starting another search. She's been found! Hungry and afraid, she turned up on the doorstep of a group home where they took her in. They kind of hoped she didn't belong to anyone so they could keep her, but they saw an ad in the paper and called.

We're so happy! Her little chihuahua sister is so happy. Even the basset hound has managed to perk up a little at her return!

Count on it - there's more joy in heaven over one sinner's rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue. (Luke 15, The Message)

Thanks to all of you who helped, who prayed, who hugged and cried. It's time for a puppy party!

Heartsick

Some friends entrusted us with their puppies, believing they'd be in a safe home. One of the puppies ran away yesterday. She's so small and helpless and this will be her second night out on her own.

I'm heartsick.

I know it's a small request in the grand scheme of things, but I'm asking for prayers for her safe and swift return.

One Word

Play along if you'd like. Only one word answers allowed.

1. Where is your cell phone? purse
2. Your significant other? Priceless
3. Your hair? healthy
4. Your mother? networker
5. Your father? Knowledgeable
6. Your favorite thing? story
7. Your dream last night? quest
8. Your favorite drink? tea
9. Your goal or dream? novelist
10. The room you're in? messy
11. Your kids? female
12. Your fear? broke
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? content
14. Where were you last night? Yelm
15. What you're not? extroverted
16. Muffins? toppers
17. One of your wish list items? Trip
18. Where you grew up? Mendenhaven
19. The last thing you did ? groceries
20. What are you wearing? gray
21. Your TV? fuzzy
22. Your pets? cool
23. Your computer? grouchy
24. Your life? eternal
25. Your mood? even
26. Missing someone? always
27. Your car? dented
28. Something you're not wearing? earmuffs
29. Favorite Store? Powells
30. Your summer? open
31. Like someone? guess
32. Your favorite color? blue
33. When is the last time you laughed? Tonight
34. Last time you cried? Today
35. The person who sent this to you? Shelli
36. Who will/would resend this? Sandi
37. A good book? Tisha
38. A good movie? Enchanted
39. A good song? Holy
40. One word to share? Peace

Books I've Read

Dad just invited people to list their recent readings. I, like him, have an ever-shifting stack of reading material in various rooms of the house. Here's my list of books I've read in the past month.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver - a terrific book on eating locally.

The Mystery of History III by Linda Hobar - I picked this history book to represent any number of books we use for homeschooling. We're actually using this one online until it rolls off the presses in May.

The Shack by William P. Young - I've got a review of this book coming out in Wineskins some time this week.

And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street by Dr. Suess - Again, a representation of the hundred or so children's books I've read with my youngest. Only now I' more of a reading consultant as she figures out most of the words on her own.

Let's Play Games in French by Bernard Crawshaw - just a resource to help make my French class a little more interesting.

Chihuahuas for Dummies -A Psych 101 book on our little house guests

Galatians, Psalms, and Isaiah - 3 different books for 3 different studies.

Buffalo Valley and a few others by Debbie Macomber - In preparation for the Mt. Hermon Christian Writers Conference.

Embrace Me by Lisa Sampson - a literary novel about a circus sideshow freak, a self-mutilating preacher and both of their paths to forgiveness. A real gem. I'll probably review this one next.

Talking Drums by Patty Slack - It may not count as a real book yet, but I've read over my novel manuscript several times this month. And I'm now 5 pages in on my next book, No Other Gods.

Perspective on Prayer

Gas prices are up. Food prices are up. Taxes are due next week.

And a role model for my children is having surgery for cancer tomorrow.

I was reminded this weekend that it's not sin and evil that chokes out the fruit God wants to bring in my life, it's worry. Worry steals joy, peace, and faith.

This role model has taught me so much about letting go of worry. He's had his reasons to fret - physical challenges, unemployment, challenges with kids - but he keeps grinning and giving. Why is it that those who are most entitled to fretting and pity parties have the most to teach the rest of us about trust?

Pray with me?

39

Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated 40 years ago today.

He died too young at the age of 39.

39 years to change the world. That's pretty fast work.

I know.

I'm 39.

Jesus lived only 33 years. Alexander the Great, too. It doesn't take long to make an impact, not if you believe in what you're doing.

On my first visit to Memphis many years ago, a friend drove me by the Lorraine Motel to see the balcony where Dr. King was killed. At the time, the biggest impression it made on me was how run-down the place was.

I didn't understand.

I was born 4 months after King's death, born at the end of the turmoil that embroiled our country. By the time I was aware, the biggest clash was between my orange plaid pants and my pink flowered jacket.

I can't say I fully understand even now, though I've had a taste or two of what it means to live in a country divided against itself. I've also come to realize that it's not the place of death that brings honor or dishonor - it's the life led. Jesus' life was not defined by his death on a garbage heap. Neither was Martin Luther King's by his assassination at a seedy motel. If anything, his choice of lodging speaks of his humility, his integrity.

His legacy.

39 years and we'll never be the same.

Herding Ping-Pong Balls

Picture this:

3 kids and a mom who are tired of winter and especially thrown off by its sudden and insistent return this week.

Add 1 dog and 2 birds.

That's normal life.

Now add 2 chihuahua puppies who are terrified half the time and barking ferociously the other half.

Now add some extra kids: 4 boys and 2 girls, a closet full of games, a basketball, an X-box, and a pizza assembly line.

Remember that it's April Fool's Day and the funniest joke EVER is ringing the doorbell and running away.

Maybe it's more like herding hand grenades than ping-pong balls. Either way, I think God was smart to not give me a dozen kids. When the phone rang at the same time the doorbell rang and the dogs ran underfoot, I finally understood how the Calgon lady always felt.

Truth be told, though, I don't know how she kept all those kids out of the bathroom.

*I can't take credit for the title today. Kudos to either Mike or Geoffrey for this apt image.

Bonjour and all That

This morning we launched a new experiment. The older kids have finished their history and math for the year and have only 3 chapters left in science, so I decided it was time to learn a foreign language. Only instead of an hour a day for eternity, we're going to approach language in the most natural way I know how...

...immersion.

The language of choice is French since that's the language I and my husband speak that is spoken in more than one country.

The plan is to do 3 hours of French immersion a day for the week, then increase that amount of time each week through the month.

The first reaction to the plan was from the 6-year old who sat through about 20 seconds of French before announcing, "I don't know ANY of those words. STOP IT!" She settled into the routine with her sisters, though, as we had Bible time, grammar, reading, vocabulary. To celebrate making it through our first morning, we had crepes and played Monopoly, all in French. I'm surprised at how much the kids have learned and retained over the years. Their pronunciation is good and they understand a lot of basic commands.

So we build on a foundation already laid. I wonder if they'll be speaking in complete sentences by the end of the month. I wonder if I'm ruining their ears for true French with my less-than-perfect French/American/African accent.

I wonder if this will be the most brilliant use of homeschooling time we've ever conceived.

The Truth of Seuss

All I needed to know, I learned from children's books.

*The doctor is your friend. (Benjamin Bunny Visits the Doctor)

*If you believe and work hard, anything can happen. (The Carrot Seed)

*Love is best expressed in person. (A Kiss for Little Bear)

*Tastes Change. Try something new every once in a while. (Green Eggs and Ham)

*Never Tease a Weasel. (I just like to say that!)

And from the classic, Horton Hears a Who!...

*A person's a person no matter how small.

I always liked that one, since I was the shortest person in my class. Horton Hears a Who has some other great messages (notwithstanding the jabs about narrow minded kangaroos who choose to pouchschool their joeys to keep them from exposure to new ideas). The movie's worth a gander or, if you prefer, you can always read the book. One idea that has stuck with me this week is that the poor little guys in Whoville, who live on a speck but don't know it, cannot see that their speck is being protected by none other than Horton the elephant. I love their realization that Horton, their protector, is so big they can neither see nor hear him.

I know someone like that.

Huge-normous or itsy-tiny. It's all a matter of perspective.

It Ain't Over til It's Over

Special Bulletin: Homeschool Ruling Vacated; Court Will Reconsider

Pacific Justice Institute reports that the California ruling that outlawed homeschooling in California has been vacated. The case will be reheard beginning in late April.

If this is an issue that concerns you, it is not yet the time to cry victory. Vigilance and perserverance and prayer will help preserve our liberties.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled blog...

Can't Wait!

The month of December always dragged by. Now it seems to zoom past. 2008 is already a quarter done and I'm still writing 2004 on my checks.

Some things were hard to wait for as a kid - Christmas, Birthday, Summer Vacation. "I can't wait!" I'd declare.

"Yes, you can. And you will." That was Dad's wisdom. He was right.

Now I find the things I'm waiting for a little less pleasant. I wait in line at the grocery store. I wait for results to come back from the lab on blood tests.

And today... I wait to hear from an agent. I just dropped my book proposal in the mail and already I'm eager to hear back. "Expect to hear from us in 6-8 weeks," they say.

6-8 weeks? That's as long as I used to have to wait for my order to come from Montgomery Ward. (Not quite as long ago as the Wells Fargo Wagon, but close!)

My daughter ordered something the other day. The instructions read like this:

• Fill out appropriate forms.
• Send in envelope provided (no postage necessary if mailed in the US)
• Wait impatiently for 3-4 weeks.

I think I'll wait impatiently for 6-8 weeks. I can do that.

Memory Triggers

Memory is a funny thing. Little sights, sounds and smells trigger responses we think are long buried.

Driving north from my house, I pass under a line of flowering plum trees that make me think of Anne of Green Gables.

The smell of creosote and salt water takes me home faster than any other smell. The sound of home is the constant drumming of rain water falling off a roof onto a piece of plywood. (I'm sure Dad had a good reason for putting that plywood right outside my window. Rain is white noise to me now.)

The hot cross buns rising on my stove top tonight have triggered a string of memories about my best college buddy who insisted on making them every year in the old dorm oven. I wonder how she's doing. I bet she's making hot cross buns now, too.

Songs can be that way. Most of the music that takes me down memory lane are the songs we sang in church, songs that are such a part of me I'll be singing them when the rest of my brain has turned to mush. Songs that are so fixed in my heart that I'll never forget the words. Songs that will usher me out of this life. You have songs like that, too.

What triggers your dormant memories? What makes it all come flooding back?

Point Made

The people in the photos yesterday are Debbie Macomber, whose hundred or so books have sold more than 100 million copies, and Jerry Jenkins, whose 170 books have sold 65 million copies. Two of the most successful authors in modern America... yet their faces are not recognized by many.

An author is a behind the scenes celebrity. Success does not promise fame or fortune, though both are possible.

Pop Quiz!

Do you know who the people on the left in each of these photos are? Leave a comment to let me know (yes or no - don't tell the name) and I'll tell you the answer in a day or two.

Genius?

These little ditties intrigue me. Is this a random assignment of the reading level needed to understand my blog? If so - and if you're a regular reader - congratulations.

Perhaps you'd like to explain it all to me some day.

Saints Alive!

As I was walking into the doctor's office, a woman was walking out with six children. One was blind, one ran in circles, one was screaming his head off because he wanted to get a shot, but didn't.

An older man behind them said, "That woman is a saint."

I used to want to be a saint. Now I'm not so sure.

Total Waste

It was a dark and stormy night.

Well, actually, it was almost dark and kind of drizzly, but wet enough that I didn't want to stand in it. I pushed my overflowing grocery cart out to the car, anticipating standing under the open hatch to keep my self dry.

As I pushed the cart off the sidewalk, I checked to make sure none of my bags was slipping. The cup o noodles balanced nicely on top of the bag of dog food. The canvas grocery bags fit nicely inside with cart with plastic bags perched atop.

Then it happened. A plastic bag slipped from the corner of the cart and hit the ground with a sploosh.

A quart of cherry yogurt splotted everywhere, covering the cans of juice that shared its bag and spilling out into a pink sludgy river. I scooped up the bag and carried it in one hand, pushing my overfilled cart with the other.

What a waste. A whole quart of yogurt sacrificed on the wet pavement. I felt the loss.

But not as much as I did earlier this week when a powerpoint production I'd worked on for two hours didn't get shown because...

...I forgot to send it as an attachment.

Two hours down the drain. Two grains of sand in the hourglass.

Gone.

What a waste.

Born That Way

In Togo there was an expression - "Elle est née comme ça!"

She was born that way.

I know I can learn to do anything I set my mind to, but I've got to admit, I was born without a certain gene that would come in handy this month - the gene that would make me thrilled about doing my taxes.

Remember Mr. Banks in Mary Poppins? His dream for his children was that their little cups of joy would overflow at the site of ledgers and profit sheets.

I was not born that way.

Homeschool Whiplash - Action Requested

A California court ruling on February 28, 2008, took the case of one homeschooling family and changed the law for the whole state of California. According to this new ruling, no family can homeschool its children unless at least one parent is a certified teacher.

This ruling directly affects 166,000 children in California, and indirectly affects a whole lot more. (about 4 million kids in the USA)

As a homeschool parent who used to hold a teaching certificate, I know from both the education standpoint and the mother's standpoint that my ability to educate has nothing to do with my college degree. It has more to do with knowing and loving my kids as individuals and wanting what is best for them. In our family, that means diving in deeper with history with one, geology with another, reading together several times a day with the third.

I'm not one of those homeschoolers who thinks everyone should choose this route. Honestly, I don't know many homeschoolers who feel that way. But I do believe that I have a right to educate my own children. And I believe they're better people for not having been exposed to some of the influences that come through our public education system.

Not that I think public education is terrible or that I haven't had days when I've been tempted to enroll them, but I think the choice should be mine and my husband's. This should not lie in the hands of one judge who (probably) doesn't have a clear picture of what home education looks like.

If you think this was a bad ruling and would like to see it depublished, sign a petition at hslda.org which will be presented to the CA Supreme Court. You don't have to be a homeschooler, a citizen of California, or a member of HSLDA to sign the petition.

Potential!

23 batteries

I was planning to take a picture to post on my blog today. It was going to be genius, but the camera was out of batteries.

No problem. I've got a stash of batteries in the office. I pulled 2 AA batteries out of the drawer and popped them in the camera.

Nothing.

2 more.

Still nothing.

Another 2.

I tried 23 batteries, -11 rechargeables and 12 regular batteries - and not one of them had enough juice to turn on the camera.

So, 8 are now in the recharger, 12 in recycling, and the other 3 are lying in the hallway waiting their turn to get charged.

It reminds me of a song a friend taught me in Junior High-- "I Wish We'd All Been Ready." The scriptural equivalent of an Ever-ready.

I'll take a picture tomorrow instead.

Counting Down

I leave for a writing conference next week. Which means I'm so busy writing, I don't have time to write, if you know what I mean.

Here's my checklist.

Completed:

finish umpteenth draft of novel manuscript
read up on what to do to prepare for a conference
choose major morning track
arrange shuttle and flight
arrange for people to watch the kids while I'm gone

Still to do:

Finish book proposal
print up new business cards
develop a one-sheet
decide which editors and agents I need to talk to
choose afternoon classes
cook some meals so the family doesn't starve while I'm gone

If anything exciting happens between now and then, I'll let you know. Otherwise, I'm just plugging away.

Luddites

For me, reading a paper book is infinitely more satisfying than reading the same words on a screen. Wearing hand-knit socks brings a special kind of comfort you can't get from store bought socks. And macaroni and cheese from a box can't compare to what you make from scratch.

I got a new typewriter this week as a bit of decor to go by my writing desk. None of the kids can walk past it without punch a few keys and swinging the arm back to make it ding. It's not pen and ink (though I like that, too) but it holds a certain appeal that a computer lacks.

Not that I would EVER want to go back to writing on a typewriter, but it has a nice aura.

In My Fortune Cookie

You or a close friend will be happily married.

What kind of fortune is that?

Do I have to choose?

If my husband I are happy after 20 years together, are we stealing the happiness from someone else? Would it be better to just be kind of happy and loan a little bliss to someone else?

Or if a close friend is happily married, does that mean my marriage is going to the dogs?

Twisted History

Okay, I'll admit that I didn't pay very good attention in Mr. Metzger's Western Civ. class in 10th grade (or Mr. Chu's American History in 9th), but there are things I'm learning as I do history with my kids that I'm sure I was never taught.

Like... how did I not catch that the same Isabella and Ferdinand who sponsored Christopher Columbus on his search for a passage around the world were the same Isabella and Ferdinand who sponsored the Spanish Inquisition at its height? That the same year they sent Chris off in the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria, they also kicked all the Jews out of Spain?

We're reading these stories from several perspectives now and it's interesting to see how some books remember Isabella as a power hungry maniac who took advice from men of the cloth who were even more wicked than she was. Other books talk about how devout she was and how her only goal in life was to turn Spain back into a country with a pure faith.

Hello? I'm not sure burning people at the stake, having neighbor turn against neighbor, or accepting the witness of the accusers, but not the accused, is the best way to get people to be honest about what they believe.

Flamingos and Penguins

My youngest spent her day yesterday planning a trip to Florida. She dressed in a tropical skirt and put on purple sunglasses and (don't ask me why) a white bandana. No one gave her this idea. No one even told her about Florida. She was coloring a map of the USA and when she got to Florida and its large flamingo, she was sold.

That was that place for her. She wants to go hang out with the flamingos.

I told my neighbor, who's from Florida, about the kiddo's plans.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," she said. "The only flamingos in Florida are in zoos or they're plastic ones stuck in people's front yards."

Can I just say I'm shocked? All these years, I thought the only state whose reputation was messed up was Alaska's. We used to laugh at pictures of polar bears hanging out with penguins. (News flash: no penguins in Alaska, but I'm sure you knew that.)

Now I don't know what to think. Did they make up the whole thing about Idaho having potatoes? Or cowboys in Texas? Or teepees in New Mexico (I swear, that's on this map, too. The only teepees I've actually seen in NM were huge tourist traps)

What lies have we been told about where you live? What has surprised you when you've visited somewhere new?

The Late Bird

I stay up too late. Call it a character flaw, a bad habit, a craving for quiet time once everyone's in bed, but I'm rarely asleep before midnight.

And try as I might, I can never seem to wake up as early as I intend. This morning, I didn't hear the alarm, or my husband get out of bed.

I also missed the meteor that blazed across the skies of Washington, Oregon and Idaho. That would have been cool.

On a much less cool note, I did see the descending spy satellite make its steady, boring way across the sky last night. And I'll be out tomorrow evening to get a look at the lunar eclipse.

But, shucks, I wish I'd been up early enough to see a fireball blast past.

Privacy?

What happened to the expectation that people had a right to privacy? The neighbor peering over the back fence was the only one who might know your personal business, unless she chose to share it with someone.

Nowadays in America, every movement in a public place is tracked. Security cameras record when I go to the grocery store (Safeway's camera's are the most flattering), when I take money out at an ATM, when I pump gas, when I run a red light-- not that I ever would.

Beyond the loss of privacy in the name of security is the amount of infomation on the internet. I try to be pretty careful about what I write in my blog, but it wouldn't be too hard, if someone wanted to, to piece together my life using the power of the web... how I spend my time, how many kids I have and how old they are, where I live.

I used to write little stories about people I spend time with, but I'm so jittery about having too much information about myself out there, I don't want to subject anyone else to scrutiny. Some people, I know, don't mind. Some of my friends have their pictures, their addresses and their moment-by-moment activities posted on web communities like myspace and facebook. But others would rather just be left in peace. Cyber bullies, flaming, identity theft... the scope of how people can be hurt just seems to grow.

Among friends, should there be an assumption of confidentiality? Or are we beyond that? Does being a citizen of the world dictate that everything is your life is fair game to bloggers, cell phone cameras, and the whims of anyone with internet access?

Love Letters

I still have all the letters he wrote me, though I haven't read any of them in twenty years. A box full of memories, untouched but still precious. For now, though, I lock the memories in my heart...

...the little slip on the ice that led to holding hands for the first time.

...the walk at the glacier and phone call to his mother that we called our first date.

...him selling his camera to buy my plane ticket to visit him at school.

...the way he would run to open the gate for me when he heard me driving up the road.

...how he always eats whatever I cook, goes to see whichever movie I want to see, and listens to my monologs about whatever's on my mind.

...how he schlepped a porcelaine tea service for eight on his back through the streets of Zurich because 1) I wanted the tea set for Mom and 2) We might never be back in Zurich again, so we might as well look around while we had the chance.

...how he took me, 6 months pregnant, into the heart of Brussels in short sleeves in sub-freezing temperatures, because I insisted I wanted a Belgian waffle.

...the way he would stop at the Tsevie corner so I could hop out for fresh grilled corn, even though dark was approaching and he wanted to get home.

...the way he never complains about having to work full time, or even overtime, to allow me to be home with the kids.

...his wisdom in choosing his words.

...and so many more memories, more than two decades worth.

I love you more than ever.

First Signs of Spring

It could have been seeing the thermometer rise above 50 for the first time in three months or seeing the sun in the sky for the first time in what seems like that long.



It could have been the tulip, daffodil, and hyacynth leaves that are now pushing their way up through the waterlogged soil, or the large bloom of green algae growing on the front sidewalk.



But the first real sign of spring was the giant purging of the office. It was a three day job, but I managed to eliminate enough junk to get rid of one whole dresser. All the papers waiting to be filed (a stack, I'm afraid to say, that exceeded a foot in height) are now safely tucked away in their dark, skinny homes. The kids' craft projects are contained! Even the huge TO DEAL WITH stack on the desk has been reduced to 2 addresses I need to enter in the computer.



I'm a realist. I know it won't last. I'd like to blame the family, but I'm afraid I'm guilty of letting things stack up in here, too. But it will last long enough for me to get out of the house and start some of those early spring projects outside that get my blood pumping again.



I'm ready for spring. Bring it on!

Who's the Expert?

Is it a new trend among interviewers or has this been going on for a while? I've noticed lately that when I watch any of a number of media personalities, they look for opportunities to throw their own spin on the experts' advice.

This is not a real interview, but what I've observed goes something like this:

Interviewer: I'm here with Dr. X, the premiere world expert on puzzle grass. Dr. X, isn't it true that puzzle grass is one of the few things in nature that can be taken apart and reconstructed, even by a child?

Dr. X: That's right, Joe. I first became interested in puzzle grass because of its special zigzig structure. As I studied more about it, though, I learned that there's more to this species than meets the eye.

Interviewer: What exactly did you learn?

Dr. X: Puzzle grass happens to be the primary food source for the rare flubber fish.

Interviewer: So if puzzle grass goes extinct, so does the flubber? (cut to photo of lonely flubber fish then back to concerned interviewer).

Dr. X: Yes, we're working with flubber fish experts from around the world to study the possibilities.

Interviewer: But it's important to remember to fight global warming, drink 8 glasses of water a day, and have your pet spayed and/or neutered. Thanks for joining us, Dr. X.

Dr. X: Err...

Interviewer: We'll be back with a recipe for how to make organic hamster chow right after this.

3563

No, it's not the last four digits of my phone number or my social security number.

It's not the number of times I've put off doing the dishes today.

It's not the amount I owe on my credit card (thankfully).

3563 is the number of words I've written on my novel since this morning. Between schooling, mopping the floor, and washing the shower curtain, I've managed to spend some time in my computer chair.

3563.

Now that's progress!

A Friendly Face

There's something about a genuine smile that can brighten any day, about the person who loves his life so much, he can't help sharing it.

Every time I look out my office window, I'm greeting by this smiling face. My tin man loves his job and he reminds me, in his strong silent type kind of way, to love mine too.

"It's not so bad," he seems to say. "You've got a roof over your head and the chatter of children all the time. If you get grouchy, you could come out and party with me and the birds and the squirrels."

The tin man used to live at my Grandma's house. He liked it there, too. Sometimes he tells me stories about the ways he cheered her up.

He just seems to have that effect on people.

Party Line

I threw a birthday party for one of my kids this week, Granted, it wasn't the most exciting party ever in the history of the world, but we had crafts and games, cake and ice cream, party favors and time to play with the birthday girls' new toys.

"Where's the pinata?" asked one guest. "Do we get a present to take home with us?"

(If you're reading this blog and your child was at the party, I promise it wasn't yours.)

It reminded me of funerals in Togo where guests come to soak their grieving hosts dry. If the funeral is a disappointment, the disgruntled guests walk behind the coffin on the way to the cemetery singing something like this:

"It was a lousy funeral
The food was so bad I had a hard time eating it.
And there wasn't enough besides.
There wasn't enough to drink.
It was a lousy funeral."

It was a warm snow...

Old Softy

I admit it.

I watch Hallmark Movies for the commercials.

I know they're just stringing me along to make me cry at the end, but I fall for it every time. My all time favorite is the one where the woman pays a visit to her major professor who's packing for retirement. You know the one.

I saw a new one tonight, this time about a man named Ed who was learning to read. He starts with a Little Golden Book, then works his way up to the newspaper, then to adult books. And finally to the pinnacle of all reading materials, a Father's Day card from his granddaughter.

Sometimes a few words say more than volumes can.

I will never...

1. Go Bungee Jumping.

2. Be a TV, Movie or Stage Star.

3. Fit in my wedding dress again.

4. Jump out of an airplane.

5. Be as sure of myself and my abilities as I was at the age of 17.

6. Tire of learning.

7. Climb Mount Everest.

8. Be an astronaut.

9. Visit all the places I'd like to go.

10. Like the smell or taste of oysters.

How would you complete the sentence?

Sayonara, Satsuma!

One of my favorite parts of winter has come and gone. The Satsuma oranges have been replaced by the far inferior Clementines.

Time marches on.

Work of the Devil

A peddler came by the king's palace selling books. He had a particularly fine copy of a Bible. The printing was so straight, so true. It must have taken a lifetime to write such a perfect book.

The archbishop paid a call on the king.

"I've got a book I want to show you," he said. The archbishop produced a Bible, written with perfect hand, remarkably like the king's own copy. In fact, when compared, the two Bibles proved to be identical, with the same number of pages and the same words upon each page.

How could this be? How could two such beautiful books exist, exact replicas of each other? It would have taken a man's whole life to produce just one such book, but two? Impossible.

More copies of the same Bible started showing up in other places, in monasteries and libraries, in the homes of noblemen. Not having any other explanation, they concluded that this must be the work of the Devil.

Isn't it interesting that what might have been God's greatest evangelical tool of all time, the printing press, was scorned by church and state alike as the Devil's work? Has there ever been anything that has done so much for advancing the gospel, for offering knowledge and freedom to the impoverished and enslaved?

Coldest Night of the Year

When I went out to the garage this morning to switch last night's laundry from washer to dryer, the clothes were frozen to the drum.

Brrrr!

Oh, Lait!

Anyone who has ever been to France knows about their love affair with dairy products. I spent many a day tromping through alpine meadows where the Beaufort cows eat the wildflowers that give Beaufort cheese its special aroma and flavor. Whatever the French need to do to spoil their dairy cows, they should keep on doing it.

Emmetaulier, cheese fondue, creme fraiche, boursin, yogurt and high fat milk... the lactose delights go on and on.

I was so disappointed to learn that the French also gave us one of the greatest disasters in culinary history - margarine. Oh la la! Quelle catastrophe!

Observations at the Grocery Store

The only thing sadder than a Christmas tree on July the 25th (nod to Shel Silverstein) is a tomato on January 15. The ground is frozen solid and even the chard had finally given up on hope for spring, so I set aside my garden catalogs and troop off to buy groceries.

Sometimes I think it's just my imagination that prices are rising, but this time it's for real. Milk is up 89 cents, bread is up 20 cents, eggs are almost twice what they were last year. Even the gas to get me to the store is more, but that's not news to you. I bet you're feeling it, too.

As for the great grocery question - paper or plastic - I've finally decided to say "neither." Armed with 8 canvas bags, I am self-sufficient in the bagging department. The only thing is, I haven't quite got my system down, so I feel the press of the line behind me as I try to stand up my bags in the cart to fit just right. I hate to inconvenience the other customers, though I do imagine people looking in my cart and thinking, "poor dear. She still has to go home and cook dinner for her 14 children. Why doesn't she bring some along to help?"

The truth is, I like shopping alone. I don't have to tell anyone not to hang on the cart. I don't have to keep saying, "no, we don't need a box of sugar coated chocolate bombs. Put them back." Let the kids save their energy for when I get home. I'll need their help carrying everything into the house.

Countdown

As we drove from mile 88 to mile 9, I was treated to a play-by-play countdown of highway miles that went something like this:

"That said 79. Did you see it? 79. That means next we'll see 78, but not until we see 2 more 79's, right? Exit 79. Exit 79. E-X-I-T. Now we'll see some 78's. You watch for the signs and I'll read them, okay?

"Hey, that said 77. What happened to 78? Did you see it? I didn't. Did you? 77. 77. I'll count to 77 now.

"1...2...3...4...5... (and so on) ...77. 77 is not a big number because it didn't take long to count that high. Exit 77. Now 76. Watch for 76, okay?"

I'm not kidding. It was an 79 mile monologue, punctuated only by a couple of grunts from me. The miles went quickly, but my goodness, all that talking makes me tired.

Oh, and did I mention we're in countdown mode for birthday #6?

You Think You Had a Bad Day?

*photo credit: Entropy S.

Imitation Incentive

We did it.

We joined the bajillions of other resolvers and bought ourselves a treadmill for Christmas.

If there's anything I know about myself, it's that I'm easily bored. (I get that from a father who likes to take a different route every time he leaves the house.)

So I know that I'm a likely candidate to give up unless I have some kind of incentive to keep using the behemoth bedside stand.

I've borrowed an idea from a friend of mine and have decided to pay myself by the mile (I'm not even compensating for the fact that treadmill miles feel like they equal 3 regular miles).

Another idea (nods to Mom) is to measure off distances to places you want to visit and when you've walked that distance, you get to go there. So, this week I might be able to go to Starbucks, next week to Target and by the end of the summer, maybe I'd earn a trip to Saskatchewan.

Do you use any kind of incentive to keep you going on things you really don't like to do?

Mea Culpa and the Comeback Kids

I promise you I am not going to turn political, but as I make observations on the news, politics has to creep in once in a while, especially during an election year. Here are a handful of observations from the New Hampshire primaries:

1. Despite all the polls, the pundits, the media, the commentators, it's the American public that gets to elect a president.

2. Both John McCain and Hillary Clinton referred to their "comeback." Is the election already decided? I thought we were at the beginning of the race, not in the sprint to the finish line.

3. I appreciated Brian Williams of NBC Nightly News owning up to making wrong predictions. Here's what he said on his blog.

We in the media will beat ourselves (and deservedly so) for reaching conclusions before the voters have spoken. A further prediction? Give us a few weeks — we will promptly forget the lessons of this debacle in polling, predictions and primary politics. We will all live to screw up another day, though our performance in New Hampshire will be hard to beat.

4. I think we're all apt to forget lessons we should have learned long ago. I know I am. Still, I look forward to seeing if the major news outlets can stand to bite their tongues for at least the Michigan primary.

News From Kenya

Here's an update from a missionary who is in Eldoret and a request for whatever help we can offer.

3rd January
Dear Brethren,
Greetings in the Wonderful Name of our Lord,

I thought that I would try to send an update on our situation. FIRST of all, know that we are SAFE and that the Lord has heard your prayers and is taking care of us and the Leister family. The kids are happy and playing outside as I write this letter.

Also, as an update as of this afternoon , the people who threatened to burn the Zakayo Kiprono home because they helped 5 Kikuyu families while their homes were being burned, did not do so. But he did move his family to a gov't compound. He told me that he was going home today to gather the church to pray.

Today, there were a good number of stores open in town, that people who have money could get food. I meet with two of our preachers who minister at the edge of town. They walked all night and took their families to a forested area, along with some Kikuyu families. This was two days ago. I listened to their stories, that I will not repeat here. I gave them the money that Ihad. The banks are not open as of yet, so getting money is a problem.Their children and they have not eaten in three days. They are fearing for their lives because of the Kikuyus with them.

Be proud of our Christians, they are helping at the risk of their own lives to save the lives of others. Christopher said on the way to town today, he stopped at his house and read his Bible. And he told me what word of encouragement that he got from that reading in Jeremiah. In the end, I really feel that Glory will be given to the Lord, because these men and their families are doing as our Lord would do, helping those who need help.People will know who the "real" Believers are now, those who practice what they preach!

I hear that the 1000 people at the airport who have waited to get out is down to about 200 now. The police have organized for trucks to take the Kikuyus out of Eldoret, if you have $16, you and your family can get a ride to a safe area. Many are not able to pay this amount, so many are camped still at the police station and Catholic Church.

In many ways, you watching CNN News probably know more than we do. There is a general black out of news in the media (radio, newspapers and TV). What is heard is mostly via people calling each other on the cell phones. We hear that Desmond Tutu is here and trying to help. As well as a group from the European Community. Let us keep praying for the results of all of their talks.

Kirsten and Ruth and I were talking today and they asked why we were not going to Nairobi like everyone else. I explained to them that soon this problem will be over and someone needs to be here to help the people. Those without homes will need shelter, those with their clothes gone will need clothes and those without food will need food. And, we can't help them if we are in Nairobi! They both said they can give the money they have to help. They gave a lot of their clothes at Christmas time to a house with a lot of orphan girls, so they don't have many clothes to give away.

Please, we are on a limited budget, help us to help our Christians and others. Please, however small the amount it will help someone. Please involve your children, to help other children. Please send a check to our sponsoring church and note it is for relief for Kenya. That address is:South Eleventh and Willis Church of Christ, 3333 S. 11th St., Abilene, TX79605

AND PLEASE LET US KEEP LIFTING OUR PRAYERS TO THE LORD!

In Service to Christ,
Keith, Grace, Kirsten and Ruth Gafner
LATEST NEWS, just got a phone call from Charles Luvanda. He is the neighbor to Joseph Muhoro (who is Kikuyu). He said that the Kalenjin elders in the village met today and said that all Kikuyus and Kisiis people are to have their homes burnt in the area. Pray for them tonight, even the Luvanda family are fearing as their house is close to the Muhoro house.

Did You See?

Today's unauthorized rally in Kenya was called off, or at least postponed until next Tuesday!

Thank you, God, for hope of relief.

Front Lines

Soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Missionaries in Guatemala and Uganda, Turkey and Togo, Irian Jaya and Italy.

Fighters on the front lines for our country and our kingdom.

But the ones on my heart today are those working in embassies around the world. I've got to admit, when we lived overseas, I thought embassy workers were a little spoiled with their food allowances, their trips home, their fancy houses. That was before they became a target.

My first awareness of their risk started when the Tanzania embassy was bombed. Other incidents through the years served as little reminders.

Last night I came undone. I kept the news on to see what was happening in Kenya. It breaks my heart to see people lashing out at each in other with machetes in Eldoret, the town that made me fall in love with Africa. I cringe at the comparisons being made to the genocide in Rwanda. Oh please, God, no. Not again. Not the Luo. Not the Kikuyu. I'm praying fervently but with little hope against the protests being called.

Following the Kenya story came a one line report, a tag-on, about a U.S. official being killed in the Sudan. U.S. official sounds so... official, so out of the realm of where I spend my days... so political. Only it wasn't. This official worked for USAID, the agency that spends its time trying to help undeveloped countries deal with the problems of AIDS, of disparity, of malaria.

It's the same agency that took one of my very dear friends to Africa where she sits wondering if her husband is in danger because of his job with USAID.

Now it's personal. More personal than the news about the shooting 2 miles from my house. More personal than the hit-and-run accident a couple miles south of me.

May God protect my friend and her children, her husband, his colleagues. May He stir the heart of Africa with a calm that soothes the anger, with a peace that passes explanation and understanding.