chef and sous-chef

Our annual Valentine's Banquet was tonight at the church. It's SO NICE to be home before 9 p.m!! In years past we haven't gotten home until 10:30 or later.

Oh, not because the banquet lasts so long... it's because A. and I make all the food. It's our Valentine to the church family. So what with preparing, serving, and cleaning up afterward, it used to take quite a bit of time.

Enter the local fire department. (NOT because I set the food on fire!) No, they recently determined that the huge kitchen stocked with 4 ovens, 2 ranges, and 3 microwaves can only be used for reheating precooked food.

So I prepared the garlic mashed potatoes yesterday and bunged them in some aluminum pans. Chopped up 6 chickens and baked them today. Cheated a bit and cooked the sauce at the church. :) And some of the lovely church family stepped in and did things just to be helpful (and I am not one to scoff at kitchen help)... so we're home early!

And dear Rachel, who's a freshman at Green River, dropped in before heading over to her Grandma's house, and stayed on to be my Saucier and sous-chef!

Here she is. She felt left out with no toque, so she used a crocheted trivet instead.





And voila! Moi, in chef role. And if you don't get the thumb thing, you really need to see Ratatouille.

charity suffers long

My dear daughter S had piano class at Dr. J's last night. Dr. J just called me up a few minutes ago on her way back from Bible study. She wanted to share a moment S had last evening, so this is secondhand.

Apparently Master Evan had forgotten to provide treats, as he was supposed to do. After a few moments of the young class commiserating over their collective loss, Master Evan piped up, "That's okay... I wasn't really hungry anyway."

S stood up and announced to the class: "Let's all kick him!"


Dr. J just had to tell me what the pastor's daughter said during class.

It appears we have much work to do.

hmm, should I be proud or humiliated?

Which Character From The Office Are You?

Created by BuddyTV

trying to hold the reins

Ever since my son misread "caterpillar" as "caterpiddle," it's been mayhem around here.

They will certainly remember THIS lesson on arthropods, although not for the right reasons, perhaps.

I will take what I can get. Adieu.

email conference

Quick and easy update: I'm sharing with you, my friends, the email I just sent to the kids' teacher. State law mandates that we have biweekly communication with our supervisory teacher; and this week we're doing an email conference. So, clever me, thinks, "why reinvent the wheel?" and I'm reposting here what I sent to her two minutes ago.


The following is our email conference to Mrs. Shaw, the week of February 4, 2008:

From E: We are VERY TIRED of long division and are looking forward with great enthusiasm to doing Something (ANYTHING) Else. The kids forget the algorithm (Divide, Multiply, Subtract, Pull down) if the dividend gets too large. This is a concept that we'll have to go back to, or just keep reinforcing at the lower levels before trying the 4 (or more) digit dividends. We've already had to make corrections just to pass several lesson assessments. (How frustrated they get when they have to do something over!) On the plus side, just about everything else is VERY interesting right now. History (the Age of Imperialism) and science (invertebrates) are great; spelling, vocab and GUM are usually "no-brainers", and the kids just finished their 2nd novel of the year. Da wants to go directly to choosing a new novel, so I will go ahead and let him do that.

Field trip ideas... hard to say. I pick and choose which field trips to attend, depending on how the school %'s are going for that month. I have a love/hate relationship with the monthly requirements--but since you tell me it's not only %'s, but also hours total, that makes it a little easier. (Did I mention we are VERY TIRED of long division?)

Elluminate classes-- is it too soon for them to learn to begin taking notes? They do enjoy the online interaction and using the board to draw, type, etc.

Also - question regarding Power Glide/k12 partnership.... I checked into it, and I would have to purchase a separate language curriculum for each child. It's still a pretty good deal, though I am wondering - is this something that WAVA will be offering in the future as part of the basic education package? (IOW, should I save up my money, or just be patient?)

Sa chimes in: "I just finished reading Pippi Longstocking. It was the funniest book I remember reading! I would enjoy knowing Pippi as a friend. The next book I plan on starting is a Nancy Drew book."

Da's input: "I am writing a book right now called Children: Adorable Little People or Savage Bloodthirsty Monsters? We're going to be discussing whether we little people are almost perfectly harmless, or savage monsters who raid the kitchen during holiday time. I just finished reading Catherine, Called Birdy. She tries to drive away any suitor that her father brings in. I liked the book because it had many funny parts. I am also writing another book called A Child's Guide to Adults, which will be placed in the library."

(Erin comments: He really is writing that book. It's quite funny.)

Well, that's about it from here. Sounds pretty normal for us, doesn't it?

Cheers and blessings,
E

FOs and WIPs

FO: Aunt Rose's chemo cap, made from a super soft 100% merino wool by Water Lily . Ann Nordling pattern, but just knitted in the round with no fancy stitches, because according to chemocaps.com, many cancer patients prefer hats without a lot of "texture" on their heads.



WIP: A chain link pattern scarf in "La Boheme" - a double-stranded yarn that didn't photograph well here. The color is African Violet - so there's a pale green, a violet, and a gold color that shows up as a rather unfortunate orange here. This is for me. :)


FO: My Step-MIL wanted PENS for Christmas. Ball point pens. :\ She also told me she likes butterflies. So in addition to ball point pens, I knitted her a butterfly dishcloth. Here it is while being blocked out with jars of elderberry jam. :)
I also made her a dishcloth called "Bobbles the Sheep" because they raise sheep out there in New York, but alas, I failed to snap a photo before shipping it.


Other things in the works: D's pair of socks (just about finished with sock #1) and A's Christmas sweater (an unspecified Christmas). But I haven't snapped photos of those yet. :)

And my SIL Penny gave me some SUPERCOOL sock yarn for Christmas, but I feel dutybound to finish my poor son's socks first, and make some serious headway on A's sweater.

And my other SIL Ruth actually SPUN me some yarn from the sheep at the O family farm in upstate NY! How cool is that? Now I have to figure out how much is there, and what to do with it. Hats and scarves come to mind. ;)

So I'd better get knitting.

christmas unwrapped

Continuing to empty my camera:

We had a Christmas tree so symmetrical it looked fake. I was sick, so the kids did EVERYTHING, lights, decor and all. I weakly waved my hands in the general direction of the tree, mumbling things about not putting all the ornaments in one place, be sure to put the lights both at the edge and deep into the tree, statements which largely went unheeded. They did a pretty good job, actually. Can you find the mole skin on the tree?


I always get a little brave around Christmas and decide to try cutout cookies. I let the kids do the work, because that's what it's all about anyway. (Making kids work. yeah. lol) S. has trouble getting out that stupid bell:



D. finds some sprinkles that are of unknown date and origin and slathers a Christmas tree cookie. I later remember that these sprinkles are leftovers from a gingerbread house making thing I did with my fifth grade students. In 1992. I threw the jar away.


On Christmas Day:
Daddy gets "coal" from D and S



"Samantha," meet S!



D is overjoyed with The Dangerous Book for Boys


Grandma Sandy, recovering from FOOD POISONING from Costco's samples (ghastly! Both she and my husband got it!) - her Christmas dinner consisted of red jello from Safeway.



Grandpa Larry, perpetual occupant of the green chair, opens a gift. Notice the Chairman Mao mug to the left? I knew it would come in handy someday.


Coming up: FO and WIP's!

better late than never

FINALLY I am sitting at the desktop computer and taking the time to unload 3 months worth of pictures! Do you want to see all 121 of them?

Okay, okay, I will be selective.

First, a LONG overdue acknowledgement and THANK YOU to my dear Rebecca, who saw this item, thought of me, and sent it to me from Wiscaaansin:

A "Box of Boogers," picked especially for me! Thank you! The kids have been pestering me to let them EAT them. Sounds just charming when you are out in public: "Mooooommm, can I eat the Boogers now??" :)

Second, it's not every day that we can get together, so here's a photo of moi, Rebecca, Crystal (pre-kidlet), and Lavonne outside Goldberg's Deli at the Factoria Mall (this is from uhh, October, ahem..)


And a tres cute picture of Crystal's and my kids, minus one kid:


Of course, other things happened in October, too, such as the annual Pumpkin Brains Scooping:


And then, The Big Event Itself: Trick or Treating in downtown Puyallup. And I would have you all know that I USED A SEWING MACHINE (yes i did!) and I MADE THAT PIRATE COSTUME. This was a major deal, I assure you. And nobody knew who D. was supposed to be---UNTIL he went to the assisted living place, Merrill Gardens - where of course, all the residents knew he was Harpo Marx!


In November I made a lovely cake for a woman who was marrying a guy she met online...guy being from HOLLAND. He had a cake topper specially made just for the occasion and was very thrilled to be able to have it on the cake.

Here is the simple, elegant design on the cake I made:



And here it is with the topper he brought from Holland. there are no words. none.



December deserves its own post. ciao for niao.

Bookviews

Ah, it's been a great start to 2008! I've already been able to polish off five books. I grant you, most of them were on the light side. A. always encourages me to toss in some non-fiction so I will have better character, and he provided My Grandfather's Son by Clarence Thomas for me to begin the year properly. It was an easy, entertaining read - not in the sense of being light-hearted or fluffy - quite the contrary. But it was thoughtful and well-written. The path Justice Thomas took from backwoods Georgia, to segregated Savannah, to his experiences as the "token" black student at Yale (he has nothing good to say about the so-called prestigious university) - to life in Washington D.C. and the lies and liars that hold that town together. He tells his story humbly and with dignity. And he wrote it himself, not using a ghost writer. I recommend!

Next I settled into The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, which was charming and very quotable. I loved the voice of the character Mma Ramotswe, and the very African flavor to the book. I plan to read more in the series.

At the same time, I checked out another book by Alexander McCall Smith, The Sunday Philosophy Club. I didn't care for Isabel Dalhousie as much as Mma Ramotswe...the main character was always sloshing around with some moral/ethical dilemma or another, pontificating on and on in paragraphs which I considered distracting. That was the point of the whole book, though--it being a novel about a philosopher-turned-amateur detective, I suppose there needed to be a fair amount of what I call "verbalrrhea."

And...still chipping away at the Newbery Project...I found a blog today that does what I've been doing! So I'll be checking in over there from time to time. At any rate, two nights ago I read the 2007 winner, The Higher Power of Lucky, by Susan Patron. I wasn't overly impressed. Lucky eavesdrops on various 12-step meetings and keeps hearing about attenders' "Higher Power" - and she's looking for one herself, because her mom's dead, her dad abandoned her, and she's being raised by her dad's first, ex-wife, who is French. The stepmonster is a good person, but Lucky is convinced that Brigitte is just taking care of her out of duty, and is really planning to catch the first flight back to France. I never figured out quite what Lucky's Higher Power turned out to be. Brigitte staying? Lucky herself, because of her survival skills in the Mojave Desert? Anyway, 2007 must have been a "meh" year for children's literature, because that's about how I felt when I put the book down on Tuesday night. Meh. That was number one? Meh.

Last night, Missing May by Cynthia Rylant. This had the same basic element as the previous book-- orphan raised by distant relatives - but this one grabbed me a bit more than Lucky did. Perhaps because I've witnessed how lost some people become when they lose a spouse - how they just literally give up hope and die of a broken heart - this book had a larger impact on me. Made me sniffle a bit at the end, but maybe that was the migraine headache I had.

I'm out of books. Better get online and reserve some!

School has been an absolute wash today. Nobody wants to do anything except stay at home and lie around, like those VeggieTales Pirates. I have just given the edict: NO DINNER UNTIL YOUR SCHOOL IS DONE. Dinner is going to be beef stirfry with rice, too, so there will be some sad little halflings if they don't get on the stick.

updating and archiving...no need to notice this post :)

What I read in 2007 - I know this isn't an exhaustive list, because I don't always take the time to upgrade my template each time I finish a book. :)
Adding a few more that I know I didn't post on the sidebar:
The Beloved Dearly, Doug Cooney
Veronica Ganz (and) Peter and Veronica, Marilyn Sachs
Nancy Drew: The Secret of the Old Clock (#1), Carolyn Keene
Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception, Eoin Colfer
Trickster's Choice (and)
Trickster's Queen, Tamora Pierce

The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury

My Side of the Mountain*, Jean Craighead George

The Tale of Despereaux*, Kate DiCamillo

The Slave Dancer*, Paula Fox

The Bronze Bow,* Elizabeth George Speare

It's Like This, Cat,* Emily Neville

The View From Saturday*, E.L. Konigsburg

Maniac Magee*, Jerry Spinelli

Babe, the Gallant Pig, Dick King-Smith

M.C. Higgins, the Great*, Virginia Hamilton

Invincible Louisa: The Story of the Author of Little Women*, Cornelia Meigs

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Jo Rowling

Living the Sabbath: Discovering the Rhythms of Rest and Delight, Norman Wirzba

The Seventh Dragon: The Riddle of Equal Temperament, Anita T. Sullivan

Abram's Daughters:

The Covenant

The Betrayal

The Sacrifice

The Prodigal

The Revelation, by Beverly Lewis

Created to be His Helpmeet, Debi Pearl

The Bromeliad Trilogy:

Truckers

Diggers

Wings
, Terry Pratchett

I, Robot, Isaac Asimov

2010: Odyssey Two, Arthur C. Clarke

Kidnapped! Robert Louis Stevenson

The Princess Bride, William Goldman

The Inner Game of Music, Barry Green with W. Timothy Gallwey

2001: A Space Odyssey, Arthur C. Clarke

Franz Liszt: The Weimar Years, 1848-1861, Alan Walker

A Soprano On Her Head, Eloise Ristad

Music, the Brain, and Ecstasy, Robert Jourdain

Ramona Forever, Cleary

Call It Courage, Armstrong Sperry

Henry Huggins, Beverly Cleary

The Curate's Awakening, George MacDonald

The Lady's Confession, George MacDonald

Pride and Prejudice (yes, again), Jane Austen

Emily of New Moon

Emily Climbs

Emily's Quest, L.M. Montgomery

Ramona Quimby, Age 8

Ramona's World, Beverly Cleary

regarding Christmas cards

Great Scott, it's December 21st and I'm just now starting to think about this.

You see, I have this self-imposed pressure to yearly come up with a witty, newsy newsletter of all the O family doings for the previous year. People have commented to me in past years about how clever/funny/charming the Christmas letter was. However, this year I have discovered that I am only sporadically clever, occasionally funny, and infrequently charming.

Plus them there card things ain't cheap to buy OR send.


So this afternoon, having an extended period to sit at the desktop computer (ooh, the one with a PRINTER), I made an unclever, nonfunny, semi-charming (if snowflakes are your thing)... POSTCARD, with absolutely no family news on it. A simple "Merry Christmas," with John 1:14.

And what is more, I am not sending it to everyone on my list. Simplify, simplify. Please don't feel snubbed. If you're reading this, I probably keep in contact with you more than the other people on my list. Rest assured, I am thinking of you. And you probably already know all the news I would share anyway, because you read this thing.

A simple "Merry Christmas" to you all.

John 1:14 - "And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."

sowing and reaping

What do you get when you combine a cup of hot cocoa and a thermometer?

A little girl with a 101.1 fever who is too sick to do school, watching Ratatouille and Felicity, An American Girl on the mini DVD player, while being pampered by all and sundry.

I wondered, later, as to why her temperature suddenly became 98.6. An angel must have touched her on the head and said "go out and play."

So, now that it's 8:30 pm, confession has been made, discipline has been meted out, and she is now doing her school, and will stay up until it is done.

And the letter "c" is growing increasingly difficult to type on my laptop. What would the world be like without the letter c?

sage advice

from my son, who spent yesterday recovering from stomach flu:

"Mom....bananas and quesadillas do not mix."

from one adventure to the next

Tuesday was the usual whirlwind of activity: get the kid ready for school and out the door to band; sit on the second kid to make sure she did some work while first kid was at band; sit on both kids to make sure they got their school completed...

Interrupting this was the weekly trip to the library. Usually the kids blithely go their way with dad, no mean mom coming along. But right now in Composition studies we are working on The Report. So mean mom joined said children at the library today. The textbook discussed card catalogues (what library still has those?!) as well as computer catalogues - so off we went to the library computer to find references for their chosen topics: S wants to do a report on baseball; D wants to do something involving cartooning, Jim Davis, and Garfield.

I had to leave them there to finish up checking out sources and references in order to teach piano. They arrived home as blithely as they left - no sources checked out. They "forgot."

After teaching, I had a meeting for choir to do some admin restructuring. We're in the market for a new director. Any offers? :) At the conclusion of the meeting, the soprano section leader backed out of the driveway, but missed the turn at the end and sank up to her axles in mud/grass the consistency of bread pudding. So I and two other men were up past the ankles in mud getting this dear woman out of the field and back to Tacoma. By this time it was 10 p.m!

Came home, cleaned up, bathed - went straight to bed. A tapping at the door awoke me. S entered to inform us that D had just thrown up. Clock time: 1:12 am. Always, ALWAYS, these things happen when the entire world is asleep, except yourself! I told A to stay in bed and went to assess the damage. (Here comes the TMI part, so you can stop here if you want. This is my therapy; I don't want to be responsible for yours.)

The kid perfectly targeted an inside corner between the bathroom and the linen closet, nailed the bathroom door and doorknob (apparently it was shut as he made his frantic dash), and finished the bulk of the event immediately inside the door on the linoleum. Oh, and a little bit in the intended receptacle.

Notice the time of this post? :) My therapy. Got things scraped up, mopped up, saved the carpet, wiped and washed walls, doors, baseboards and knobs several times (paranoia; MUST DO THIS AGAIN...and again...yet again...) and in general used enough good-smelling detergents and cleansers to eradicate the smell. But I still smell it. Coincidence? Maybe.

The boy told me he was feeling fine now. I popped him into the tub and left him there while I did my work. I finally realized the poor child was too embarrassed to get out of the tub while I was there, but he was too polite to ask me to look the other way, and too tired to stay in the tub. I'm not the quickest on the draw, especially at the disadvantage of two hours of sleep. So the boy, armed with bowl this time, is back in his bed, dry, unsmelly, and warm-- hopefully to sleep the remainder of the night.

The clock just chimed two. Maybe I can relax enough to go back to bed and get some sleep myself.

random thoughts

I have, as those knitty people put it, a FO! Aunt Rose's chemo cap is ready to go. I would love to post a picture for you, but the charger gremlins have invaded my house, apparently, and I need to recharge my camera---but I can't find the charger to do so, etc. So there it is. It looks great. :p I need to turn this task over to my dear husband A, who can find anything in short order. As I was puzzling over my misplaced charger last night, he smugly said, "I haven't looked for it yet. Don't worry."

And he still hasn't looked for it yet, so no charged camera.

There's a bit of snow in the forecast, and that sends D and S running to the window every so often to check for flakes. D. was sitting at his window last night, blinds tilted open, just in case. So far, disappointment.

Because of the cold, the guinea pigs have temporarily been moved from the covered back porch and taken up residence between the love seat and the bookcases. They are so funny to listen to, and even funnier to watch. They're so greedy and selfish, it's like watching fuzzy little toddlers as they grab carrots and run away to hide to eat them...stealing lettuce bits from each other...playing "king of the igloo" and not allowing any other pigs to sleep in the hidey-holes. The whistling and squeaking that accompanies these activities is rather charming.

I stayed up WAY too late watching a movie the other night (1 AM). Idiot me: I am not a twenty-something anymore who can shake this off by the next day. My reason, though, was for my dear son, who loves loves loves King Kong (1933). He wanted to see Peter Jackson's 2005 version; therefore, A and I had to "proof" it first. THREE HOURS LONG. They make mighty free with the names of God, and the Kong ritual by the natives is rather freakish, so we're limiting access to just the really cool scenes once Ann gets past the wall on Skull Island and Kong takes her. And skipping the Valley of Insects part, where Andy Serkis's character gets eaten headfirst slowly by a leech...ugh. I really liked Kong in this movie, though. Very cool gorilla.

And the carrot that gets D this Kong privilege: finish your November school requirements. So he's counting up how many of this and that lessons he has left to accomplish and occasionally despairing of EVER being able to watch King Kong...I am firm, however. He and his sister have taken a few days off school, taking advantage of my being occupied teaching other students. THIS is why I only teach piano part time.

Okay. School awaits. Kids must put guinea pigs away to do their work. I will let them read aloud to the pigs, but the pigs are counterproductive when it comes to accomplishing math, vocabulary, or just about any other subject.

Be well.

you never can tell with bees

Today I sat in the van while my kids were in swimming lessons. It was quiet, sunny, warm. I'm knitting a chemo cap for Aunt Rose of a lovely, soft merino wool the shade of plum. As the van--and I!-- basked in the sun, I heard a buzz from the rear of the cabin. Turning around, sure enough, I saw a fat yellow jacket bipping against the window, trying to escape to the outside. Sighing, I put down my knitting, opened the window on the sliding door, and shooed him outside to where he belonged.

I resumed my knitting and basking in the sun...when I heard that sound again. "Bzzzzz...bip...bip...bipbip....bzzzzzz." I turned around again. Another one! I popped the hatch, slid the door, and opened the front side door to give him all possible avenues of escape. I flapped him out the back hatch, and he promptly flew around to the side panel door and landed... on the inside. If I closed the door, he'd be right back where he started! I grabbed a newspaper and went to work, guiding him to freedom and Life Outdoors. He was having none of it. He flew back into the cabin, landing on a wreath of fall leaves I had in the back. I set the wreath outside. Go, little bee, go. And indeed, he left the wreath... and flew back into the cabin of the van. AUGH!

Finally he landed on the open passenger door, at the opening for the latch. He crawled inside the hole. I waited for a few minutes to see if he'd come out... then figured I could probably kill him if I slammed the door shut. I'd already tried to rescue him enough, and he was keeping me from my knitting, after all, so , WHAM!

Peace and quiet once again.

I'd been sitting and knitting for maybe 5 minutes when I heard another low buzzing sound. Feeling rather like I was in some Candid Camera show at this point, I jumped up and out of my seat, whipped open my door, and whisked that sucker out of the van. I slammed the door behind the bee, and wouldn't you know, it turned around and landed on the window of the van, clearly seeming to want back IN?

I'm sure the other people sitting in the parking lot waiting for THEIR kids to be done swimming were amused at my antics: jumping out, running around the van, opening and slamming doors, waving a newspaper (the comics page, of course) around my head, talking to unseen creatures. I was rather amused myself... but it was getting old, and I wanted to sit and knit and be warm, not have to deal with buzzing critters that sting.

Eventually the bee on the window flew off, presumably to join its sisters for a laugh at this stupid human. D and S returned from swimming, and we started home. We were about halfway there when I heard a quavering "Mooooommm....there's a hornet back here..."

I rolled my eyes. I can't win!

We opened the windows. It sufficed to keep the bee blown to the back of the van until we pulled into the driveway, where I popped the hatch, and shooed yet another bee to freedom.

So now I'm a little paranoid about whether the bees have built a hive in the van, or if they were merely hitchhikers on the wreath that Mr. Jones gave me at church Sunday. You never can tell with bees.

well, duh.

Note to self re: Science labs: When separating ink colors using paper chromatography, do NOT use a Sharpie waterproof pen. Because it doesn't work. Waterproof, and all that.


sigh.

it's here!

....the rainy season!

We are under a High Wind Warning from now until about 4 p.m.

There's nothing quite like November in Puget Sound. Gusty winds; heavy, persistent rain; leaves clinging desperately to increasingly bare limbs, then whirling forlornly around the street, clumping up in sodden masses in the gutters; puddles that grow to touch fingers and eventually become one with the puddles across the street.

Hot chocolate, apple cider, and popcorn. Knitting socks (for D), warm, soft caps (for my Aunt Rose, who starts chemo tomorrow) and scarves (for me!).

It's a GREAT DAY, people.

Praising the Lord that we have heat and power! :)

the (positive) influence of Hollywood

The movie Ratatouille just came out on DVD, as most of you probably know. We had not seen it yet, so I purchased it at my local Costco and brought it home for a night of popcorn and enjoyment.

This movie has paid off in a lovely way: for the past two mornings, S. has been in the kitchen, whipping out omelettes for the family dining experience! Yesterday it was cheese; today it was turkey pepperoni, ham and cheese. D. has also gotten in on the act at the dinner scene, donning my toque and apron and speaking in a French accent. I put him to work slicing potatoes and monitoring the overall cooking progress of fried potatoes and Aidell's chicken apple sausages.

No, that's not really a gourmet meal, apologies to Remy and Co.. I continue to be plagued by this cold, which keeps me awake much of the night (I just can't sleep if I'm mouth breathing). So I'm not really "overthinking" on meals right now. I can't taste them anyway. Basic food with good texture is good enough to sustain my family for a few days. We'll get fancy with the spices when I can smell again.

Meanwhile, a-caking I must go. I am so paranoid about cross-contamination with dairy products that I'm washing and wiping things down a couple of times. I want Micah's 5th birthday party to be memorable for fun things, not that Crystal had to epi-pen him because of my dairy poisoning him. :p

To the kitchen!

not wounded, but dead, sire!

Crystal is such a thoughtful friend. I feel so.... loved! By all means, spam my email account! or just post comments on the blog, because those make it to my email as well. >:) I'm always watching.

Yes, I AM alive! Wifehood, mommyhood, teacherhood--all these make great demands on Life, as you all know so well, since you have similar demands on your time.

And my children have thoughtfully shared their cold with me, so I have the first sniffles of the cold and flu season. I must be well by Friday when I bake cakes. (They're gonna be great, folks, stay tuned for pictures.)

So as I was driving in the car the other day, frustrated at my seeming inability to have any quality time in the Bible, I was singing the line from "If I Were a Rich Man" (from Fiddler on the Roof, for any Philistine readers I may have) - where Tevye sings, "If I were rich, I'd have the time that I lack to sit in the synagogue and pray..." and nodding my head in sympathy. Yesssssss, if only I didn't have all these responsibilities, I'd be SO SPIRITUAL.

Then, of course, Reality Check set in. I DO have these responsibilities. And God, in His divine power, has provided every single thing that I need to live this life in a godly way--by the knowledge of Him Who called us. (2 Peter 1:3, E's version) AND even better, He knows my frame, that I am but dust. So, I don't have to be perfect. (Of course, I can't be.) He knows that I am doing the best I can with what I can. And yes, there is room for improvement. But I can't go around mentally chastising myself that I am not like those mom bloggers (whom I really do admire, how DO they do it?) who manage to be crafty, prepare a hot meal every night, keep their homes immaculate, and are always sweet and cheerful with their dear hubbies and dear children.

No, my reality is not like that. I yell. I think bad words (because of course that's so much more spiritual than actually saying them, right? /sarcasm font) . I stomp my feet and toss papers around. Sometimes we have to eat at McDonald's because of swimming lessons followed by piano lessons followed by choir practice. And I clean... oh gads... I clean all the time but it never stays that way. Even when channeling Flylady. And I have two knitting projects that are not going to be ready for Christmas, I'm sure.

So life is pretty much normal around here. I'm just not talking about it. Sorry I'm so behind on your lives. I do think about you all often and even PRAY FOR YOU. Now I just need to get caught up on your lives by reading your blogs!

So can anyone tell me the name and author of the poem to which my title alludes? *evil laugh*