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Biltmore Estate in Ashville, North CarolinaI write you sitting comfortably in my home - although that may not sound surprising - I have been without use of my pc/internet access for what seems like forever. But tonight, it is working again, and I am sitting on my couch with my laptop, watching The Sound of Music with my family at the same time. I do hope to visit with all my friends, but before I go around and visit, I wanted to at least finish my post of Biltmore Estate.
Have you ever visited the Biltmore Estate in Ashville, North Carolina? If not, it is worth the effort if ever given the chance to visit it. The house covers 4 acres, totaling 175,000 square feet. It consists of 250 rooms and includes 35 guest and family rooms, 43 bathrooms, 65 fireplaces, and three kitchens. The old fashioned kitchens are my favorite rooms in the house. In fact, I love everything in the basement - the 70,00 gallon indoor pool, the old fashioned laundry rooms, and the multiple pantrys. I wish I had pictures to share of all this, but you are not allowed to take pictures once in the house. Also in the basement is a gymnsasium and a bowling alley.
.A favorite room of my children and husband is the two story library. This is an amazing room filled with old books and beautiful woodwork.
Upstairs on the third floor, in addition to more bedrooms, are areas where guests once . Fully electric and centrally heated, Biltmore House, at the time of its completion, was
So that's it - now I'm going to see if I can come by and visit and say hi!
Ode to the Mattress Maker
Posted by Sagerats
The greatest man-made invention, in my opinion, isn't the steam or gasoline engine, or the computer, or even airplanes. I think it's the mattress. The kind the would make Goldilocks very happy, not too hard, not too soft, but just right. 9:24 PM, Nov. 10, 2009 .. Posted in Uncategorically Speaking .. 2 comments .. Link I'm incredibly fond of my bed, made up of a mattress. If I no longer had a computer I wouldn't cry. If flight became a thing of the past I wouldn't worry. If I had to start walking everywhere I would probably grumble and whine, but I would get used to it. However, if I lost the use of a good mattress, I don't think I'd ever get over that. You may think that I'm a hard-core blogger, but I put more time and effort into being a napper. Sleeping at night is only intensive training for my napping, and like a runner after a good, long run, I find it to have been hard work but well worth it--it gives me a rush. It can be exhilarating and then my body is ready for a good nap to recuperate. Before the modern bed was invented, people had to sleep on poky straw or feathers. Quite a problem for those with allergies and deadly for those with asthma. Before that it was soft dirt or hard dirt, but I doubt there was ever any "just right" dirt. That's why the bears lived in a house and slept in beds. It wouldn't have been the same story if Goldilocks had wandered into a cave and tested three different bear wallows. I completely and totally love my bed and all of the cozy comfort that it has to offer. It's just fills my heart with joy to crawl under the covers and snuggle down. Waking up in the morning is most painful. At least I have naps to look forward to. To whoever invented the modern mattress, I am truly grateful. I wouldn't be half the napper I am now without it. Worth Your SaltMy oldest son, Chad, decided he wanted to see how much salt was in sea water. What is cool about this is that Chad has never been too interested in science - he's a history/music guy. So, of course, I took him down to the beach and let him brave the wind and rain to gather two gallons of sea water. One thing I love about Oregon beaches is how desolate they are on days like that. It was just Chad down by the water with nothing but the shipwrecked Peter Iredale (the iron remains of a ship that ran aground about 100 years ago) for company. Of course, as soon as he left the car, my Prius decided to flash an unfamiliar warning light at me. While he was enjoying the surf, I was frantically thumbing through my owner's manual, trying to decipher this strange symbol lit up on my dashboard. The bad thing about Oregon beaches on days like this is that they are desolate - just me and my Prius and possibly in need of a tow home. Todd was at home asleep (he had to work later) and the younger two were home but they would be of little use. I did have my cell phone but, fortunately, I figured out what that dang light meant. I had put my cell phone on the car charger for the first time and this light was to politely tell me that my phone was fully charged. AS IF I NEEDED TO BE TOLD! The symbol was of a key with an exclamation point through it. I ask you, does that mean "cell phone fully charged" to you? And the owner's manual showed the symbol but conveniently forgot to say what it meant. I discovered on my own by unplugging the cell phone charger, thinking that it might have something to do with the light. It's a good thing I have a few wits about me. Anyway ... We got home with the water but waited until the following day to start boiling. We were thinking it would take all day. We have been discussing Lewis & Clark for the last month or so, since we just went through some of the places that they traveled. And the Salt Works where the Corps of Discovery made their salt during their winter stay here on the coast is down south of us in Seaside, about 17 miles away. We have visited this place in Seaside and during the summer, there is a Salt Work reinactment down on the beach where the actors immerse themselves in the roles of the Corps. If you ask them about anything modern, they don't understand but they'll tell you all about the Lewis & Clark expedition and the making of salt from sea water. So, now, Chad wanted to make his own salt. It actually didn't take that long. We got it boiling pretty good and after about 45 minutes, salt started boiling over onto the stove top. I think it took about an hour for the water to boil away. Chad ended up with nearly a cup of salt. It was pretty amazing to me. He spread the salt out on a cookie sheet to let it dry out thoroughly. We are not going to consume this salt as it has a lot of impurities in it but the boys will be using it for further science experiments. I think they want to figure out some kind of fuel source involving salt, something like that. So I think the experiment was a success. Chad enjoyed the process and we all learned something. Fortunately, we don't need this salt to season rotting elk meat, as I believe that was the reason Lewis & Clark needed their men to make salt. The next time you use your salt shaker, be thankful you don't have to work too hard for it. I know I am.Grandpa and the SkunkMy grandpa, my Papafather's dad, was a country vet. He had a little office off the side of the house where he did small animal surgery, and exams. He made house calls all around the country, some trips taking him an hour or more to reach the animal in need of help, be it cow, horse, sheep, or pig. Very often he would have one of his children in tow. He had 10 of them so there was no shortage of helpers. It all sounds very James Harriot like, and in a way it was. James Harriot's stories are popular with that side of the family and each story reminds them of one like it that grandpa experienced.Grandpa's office was, as I said, just off the house. Just off the kitchen to be exact. My grandma had a dutch door put in so that she could just open up the top half to talk to him and yet keep the little ones inside. Think about that. A vet's office, just off the kitchen. Do you recall how a vet's office smells? That smell still lingers in that office to this day and it's been over 10 years since my grandpa died. Aside from the smell, I never gave grandpa's office much thought. We would traipse our way through it on the way to play outside, to gather in the clothes from off the line, to pick grapes, collect eggs, or to find grandpa. The office doubled as grandma's laundry room so I suppose that's why it didn't seem like a room that needed much attention. I never spent any time in it other than to get from point A to point B. Which is strange now that I think about it, all those fascinating instruments, chemicals, medicines, and the like just within reach. I never touched them or was ever tempted to do so. One temptation I did give in to was a special barrel out back that held two skunks. Grandpa would warn us to leave those skunks alone. My numerous cousins and I would stand around the barrel peering in, and those skunks would peer back. The lot of us cousins would look for only a moment and then run away as fast as we could before we got sprayed. I didn't find out until I was much older that those skunks couldn't spray because my grandpa had "deskunked" them. I don't know if my cousins were aware of this at the time or not, they ran just as fast as I did. Grandpa's warning hadn't been for us, he had been worried that we would torment the skunks. Skunks actually make a great pet and are positively darling, if you can legally keep them. My uncle kept one for awhile. She was just like a cat, had a litter box and everything. Her name was Rosie, and then some, but I won't repeat that part. We have a family story, told every couple of years or so I guess, about grandpa and one particular skunk he was de-scenting. While in the process of removing the gland that contains the hideous skunk musk, it was ruptured. It squirted all of its contents right in my grandpa's face. He came into the kitchen to clean up and the only thing he said was, "It's such a beautiful color." Apparently skunk spray is an amber color, and my God fearing grandpa could still recognize the beauty of God's handiwork even in a skunk's musk. Funny, while my aunts and uncles roar with laughter about this story every time they tell it, I don't remember anyone talking about the smell lingering in the kitchen or what on earth my grandma said or did. I'll have to ask them about that. After the laughter dies down, someone will always mention how my grandpa was such a quiet, gentle, and patient man. Oh he had his moments when a cow would stomp him, but how many men do you know who would take it from a skunk and only comment on it's beauty? Update: I asked one of my aunt's if she remembered grandma's reaction to grandpa coming in smelling of skunk that badly. She didn't really remember, she figured grandma probably dealt with it in stride. Believe it or not there are a lot worse smells a vet can have lingering about his body. My aunt remembers one smell that caused everyone near grandpa to be physically nauseous. Grandpa had to clean out a cow whose calf had died inside her at near full term. The calf had become a decaying mass of jelly, with only bones left. The smell lingered on grandpa for quite awhile--no matter how often he washed or what he tried, the smell wouldn't go away. He actually got infected pores on his arms from cleaning that cow out. Y.oung M.inds C.acophony A.lbumWhen I was a young and silly girl I really wanted a certain record. Yup, I said record. They still existed even though cassette tapes were beginning to make their appearance. The problem was, I didn't own a tape player, I owned a record player. I can't even remember now how this record made it to the top of my wish list. I'm guessing that what really happened was that I had seen it while digging through the records at the store and it called to my fickle heart. I trotted off to the nearest money source, which just happened to be my Aunt Sissie. I was spending a couple of weeks with her during the summer. Her children were all grown and possibly gone, that part of my memory is a little fuzzy. Anyway, I guess Aunt Sissie saw nothing wrong with indulging me and she bought it. Oh, I was a happy music lover! I listened to that album for years. Perhaps all of two-years. I have no idea what my mother thought of this present. I don't recall her ever expressing it to me. I may have to ask her about that. I do remember that my aunt loved me and wanted to give me something simple, like a two week invasion of her home and privacy wasn't enough. She was just like that, quietly giving. So what record sang to me and held my attention for so long? Irwin the Disco Duck In the Navy.  Groovy! Here are the popular titles on this record that I boogied to:
I'm sure it was that dashing figure of a duck in his sailor uniform that caught my eye in the first place. I wanted to join the Navy after all! As one of those grown cousins that no longer lived in the house was in the Navy, it was probably what tipped the scale in my aunt buying it for me. I wouldn't buy anything like this for my own children, let alone my nieces. It is however a somewhat fond memory, mainly because of my Aunt Sissie. I can't ever hear Y.M.C.A. without thinking of this record, and I can't think of this record without remembering her. The Common Thread that Weaves My Memories
Posted by Sagerats
10:07 PM, Nov. 4, 2009 .. Posted in Uncategorically Speaking .. 1 comments .. Link "The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together." ~Erma BombeckThat common thread, I know what it is. It's love. Not necessarily for each other, but for the same group of people. For instance, my sister and I are very opposite from each other, but our love for our mother is the only thing that keeps us together. We also love the same aunts, and uncles, and cousins, but it's our mom that keeps us in communication. I pray that I will always remember the fun my family has had. I don't ever want to forget the good times. I'm going to be writing some of them down, more for my benefit then yours, but I hope that I write them well enough that you can enjoy them too. I want to weave my memories together on "paper" before my mind unravels. I'm not expecting that to happen anytime soon, but I've already noticed that a few strands have been pulled and the edges are wearing. My mom keeps a box full of all the comic strips that made her truly laugh. She wants to read them when she is old and feeling unhappy. I want the same thing of my memories. In case I can't remember, I can pull one out and hopefully it will help me to remember and I can be happy because my life has been so truly blessed. I may even pull them out before I'm very old, because so often lately I do forget just how blessed I am. Butch Bills and the Sundance Sagerats
Posted by Sagerats
Why on earth do I feel like a criminal on the run while keeping one step ahead of financial ruin? To date I've done nothing criminal, nor do I plan to, and yet I feel like I am dodging "the law" of creditors. Just so it's clear, we actually still have good credit, but only due to the grace and mercy of God. 12:08 PM, Nov. 3, 2009 .. Posted in Uncategorically Speaking .. 2 comments .. Link Still, there are days when I think it would just be a whole lot easier if I turned myself in and went to debtors prison. Not that we have that anymore, but I am so weary of this flight into financial freedom. Flight might be a strong word for it--it's more like dragging a penguin on a leash. On the whole I have no one to blame but myself, we gambled and we are losing, but there have been outside influences that have played their part. Just as a farmer must still depend on the weather in order to produce a good crop, while doing what he can to help it along. Frost, tornados, and hail can all destroy a crop, it shows no mercy to a dedicated farmer or a lazy one. Remember how I said that our good credit is still only good because of the grace and mercy and God? It's true, but I have several friends who were finally captured by the credit Pinkertons--Bankruptcy and Foreclosure. In no way do I think that God's mercy and grace were pulled away from them, although I'm sure they may feel that way. I just don't understand how I can feel like I've done something so morally wrong, as if I committed first-degree non-payment, and why I have to keep looking over my shoulder and dodging the long arm of the law, certain that I am about to be caught. While I know that the enemy can beat me up, there must be a reason why I feel so guilty. I don't think it's all the bad guy in the black hat. No, we didn't spend our money on extravagances instead of paying our bills. I'm not saying that we have always spent our money wisely, but we've not been neglectful either. Yet, have I been a good steward? Sadly, no. There is only One who can grant me immunity, riding the white horse, swooping down, scooping me up, and riding away into the sunset. Okay, I don't have to wait for the Rapture, He can still save me, but it painted a good picture for my theme, don't you think? Christ is who I must run to, instead of dodging from payday bush to payday bush, and hiding out in dark caves of no cell-phone service so the creditors can't call. He won't tell me that I don't have to pay my bills and He won't actually pay them for me like He has my sins, but He can give me much needed rest and focus. He still answers prayer! If only I would take the time to actually look for Him instead of at how far away the next payday bush is. Holiday Idea Book--No Charge
Posted by Sagerats
9:51 AM, Nov. 2, 2009 .. Posted in Uncategorically Speaking .. 1 comments .. Link
My 4th Blogiversary
Posted by Sagerats
Wow. I can't believe it's been 4 years since I started blogging. A lot can change in a year, think of what can change in four!6:59 PM, Oct. 31, 2009 .. Posted in Uncategorically Speaking .. 7 comments .. Link When I first started blogging I was a small time homesteader. We had goats that we milked. (We had chickens, too, but that was before the blog.) We also had two dogs and three cats. We don't homestead anymore because I have asthma and even walking into the barn would make me sick due to all the hay and straw. We now have one cat. When I first started blogging I lived in Oregon. Now I live in Kentucky. I lived in the country, now I live in town. The economy was a lot stronger four years ago. When I first started blogging I was homeschooling my four children. Now I only homeschool three because my oldest is a homeschool graduate. When I first started blogging I had a staunch supporter in Nanna Nina. She read my blog daily, encouraged me, and told her friends to come read my blog. She died 2 years ago, and oh how I still miss her! The pain is still so fierce that I can't ever think about her without crying. I've also lost 3 other family members but I've gained 2 with the birth of a cousin-once-removed, and a great-niece. When I first started blogging I wasn't the Senior Editor of HSB or an Assistant Marketing Director, or any of the other things that I do for TOS. Sometimes, I really miss being "just a mom," but if I have to work, I'd rather work for TOS then anywhere else. When I first started blogging I had a lot of good friends. Now I have even more! For all of you who have been following my blog, thank you! Outside of family, I don't know why some of you would; I don't really have anything new or different to tell you then any other homeschool blogging mom, but maybe it's nice to know that there is one more, just like you, who loves what she's doing and wouldn't change it for the world. That's important in today's society where feminists rule the work place and stay-at-home mom's are viewed as ignorant and down-trodden. It's why I still read your blogs. I started my blog on Halloween, for no special reason other than we don't celebrate the holiday and I had totally forgotten what the day was. Then and now, we still live our lives for Christ, the best that we can, and we let our little light shine for all the world to see.   Happy Blogiversary to me! Finally.... Surgery UpdateObviously, since I am sitting here typing this entry, something went right with my surgery. Actually, it was much less traumatic than I had thought it would be. My mom and dad drove me to the hospital, so Adrian could stay home with the littles. After we passted the building a few times - thanks to my stellar directions - we walked in the main doors and then followed the hallway mazes until we finally reached the operating waiting room. Soon after sitting down, I was greeted at the hospital by a very kind nurse - she explained that there had been an emergency and my surgery was going to be bumped ahead by an hour. (I hadn't eaten all day, and it was already 4 in the afternoon.) I reminded myself to be thankful that I wasn't the one with the emergency, then settled in for the extra hour of stomach rumbling and sitting. Before I knew it, the kind nurse was calling my name. She had me change into the (very sexy) gown and robe, then had me "get comfortable" on the table. (Why do they ALL say that? I am sorry, again, but those tables are NOT comfortable!) Another nurse brought my parents into the room, then, yet another nurse, placed an IV in my arm as I held tightly to my daddy's hand. (Yes, after 8 babies, I am still a big baby when it comes to needles.) Various nurses and doctors came in to ask me questions like, "Can you verify your birthdate?", "What is your last name?", "What are your allergies?"....even though they had all of the answers right in front of them on my chart. When the questions were done, a nurse said, "Okay, Rebecca, you will start to feel a little sleepy now". She was right! I didn't even think to correct her and tell her that she could call me "Beckie". I vaguely remember being wheeled to the operating room, and moving to the table in there. I was a bit concerned that my butt was showing, but was too tired to do anything about it except make a comment that I was sorry. When I was on the operating table, a far away voice told me to take a few deep breaths. For a quick moment I panicked, thinking I might not fall asleep completely, and would feel everything!.. ...then I woke up. (Whew! I did fall asleep.) The nurse brought my parents into the recovery room, and offered me a soda. Mmmm.... CAFFEINE!! Mountain Dew had never tasted so good! She also brought me a graham cracker. It tasted like a gourmet meal! My mom told me that the doctor had been out to talk to them. Everything had gone well - my kidney stones had broken apart. Hooray!! I was so thankful. After eating my cracker and drinking my soda, I got dressed and the nurse gave me my discharge papers. I would be sore, but they gave me a prescription to help with that. After a quick thank you to everyone who had been so kind to me, my parents led me out of the hospital. Adrian had plans to go hunting the following day, but stayed home with me to help me as I healed. (I was quite sore for a few days.) Two days later, he ended up with H1N1. He was super sick, and ended up needed my help more than I needed his help! Then the kids got sick...and needed us both to take care of them. I am still not sure how we made it through the week. Only by the grace of God!! "O Lord my God, I cried out to You, and You have healed me." (Psalm 30:2) Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. In Him, Beckie { Last Page } { Page 1 of 5 } { Next Page } |
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