Jul. 8, 2008 - Chicken with Bubbles.
I'm glad to know I have spent hundreds of dollars on an elite math camp for my kid to experience cafeteria food. Today, he took what he told his brother was "mystery meat." It was supposed to be a chicken patty, he explained to us, but the meat had bubbles in it. This he found "suspicious." He also ate an orange but noted that the apple and orange crate looked the exact same as when he took an orange yesterday. "Are you saying they restocked or that no one is taking fruit?" I asked. He reported that he had looked around and saw no one else eating fruit but perhaps they just ate it really fast. However, he also looked for and did not see any apple cores or orange peels and thus concluded the other kids aren't eating fruit.
If he learns this much from lunch, I can only imagine what he must be learning in math. So I ask. This morning was spent on Sierpinski triangles. This sounds intriguing as he describes them to me. And is this new? Of course not. J has been there, done that with Mr. Stucki. Mr. Stucki, I might point out, taught my kid all this in exchange for a cup of coffee each week. So far, I've spent about $75 worth of class time for the elite math institution of IL to teach the elite math kids of IL what I organized for free for a bunch of homeschoolers two years ago. I am sure there is a lesson in there somewhere. I'll pause for the public schooled amongst us to figure it out.
After lunch, they watched about 40 minutes of Jurassic Park. Are they going to watch the whole movie, I ask? And if so, why? He thinks they will, over several days. They are to watch for small changes that can lead to big changes over time, something about moth DNA introduced to dinosaur DNA or something. My antennae, ever highly attuned to macro-evolutionary prattle, go sky high here. Did they make any connection to evolution? No, he says. But I'm going to write IMSA on this one...I can get Jurassic Park for free from our public library...certainly there is a better use of the $16 worth of class time it will take up?
Any new math after lunch? Well, first there was recess. They did math shape puzzles. J was the only one who solved his "legally." What does he mean by that, I query? It means J solved it and the other kids took pictures of his on their cell phones (his comment--"which, coincidentally, I noticed are not allowed in the building") and then recreated the puzzle at their own seats.
Cell phones?
Moving on. Yes, after lunch, they did the Dragon fractal which was both really fun and a new thing to J. However, he was embarassed during class. Why? The kid he chose to hang out with today, James, announced in the middle of class that he didn't want to hang out with anyone but J. This embarassed J a lot (since I've seen my kid blush when just THINKING about saying something in a group, this doesn't surprise me to hear). But why did James say that? And why in the middle of class? J doesn't know but James said J was cool which J "found surprising since I don't intend to ever be cool." This is a resolution I think he will be able to keep.
However, today was termed "really fun" as opposed to yesterday's "good but not exceptional." I think J is learning a lot, very little of it connected to math. Off to email IMSA about Jurassic Park.
Blessings, Holly
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Jul. 7, 2008 - Sauce of a Dubious Nature.
J went to his first day of camp today. Not just any camp. Chaos Theory math camp at the Math and Science Academy, a competitive entry camp. You had to be a card carrying math geek for this one. I was certain he would love it.
He walked out of Day 1 not looking like he so much loved it. 'Well? How was it?'
'OK.'
Just ok? 'Tell me about it.'
'I had pizza with sauce of a dubious nature on it.'
I think you will agree with me that any kid who describes pizza sauce as having a dubious nature is probably a kid born to be at a math camp. So why didn't he love it?
'Did you make any friends?'
'One. He likes me but I don't think I like him.' Turns out J's 'friend' was once friends with someone who looked like J. Apparently the kid didn't like the J lookalike and threw the Jlike kid's toy in a creek. Why the kid shared this story with J, I don't know, but J wasn't impressed. At the end of the day, the kid bodychecked another kid ('I think he knew him though') into the hall wall. And thus, J concluded 'for the reasons above' (yes, he actually said that--does he think/speak in outline form? I don't know.), he doesn't want to hang out with the kid anymore. Fair enough. I pointed out to J that if he actually spoke to kids instead of waiting to see who spoke to him, he would have a bit more control of picking someone he might actually like to hang out with. No comment.
'Well, how about the math? Did you learn anything new?'
Nope, nothing new. They did a sequence (or something) involving dice and a graph (I think) and the teacher said he would tell them what the sequence is tomorrow, but J already knows it is the Mandelbrot sequence.
'How do you know that?' I certainly didn't teach him that. Last math thing I taught the kid was long division.
'Mr. Stucki. They didn't teach me anything Mr. Stucki didn't already show me in Math Club. And I was kinda homesick all day.'
We'll see how the next four days go...here's hopin' that at least there won't be fish sticks of unprovenanced origins tomorrow.
Blessings,
Holly
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Jun. 27, 2008 - Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny--or what really happens to your cruddy old electronics.
Most of you are familiar with the ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny argument from high school biology. The thought goes that as a human embryo develops, it passes through all the evolutionary stages in order. Nevermind that this has been a discredited theory since the early 1900s; you were still taught it. And never mind that despite it being discredited, evolutionists are asking us to believe it in a new and improved (?) version today.
I see one area of life where ontogeny really does recapitulate phylogeny.
My children are at maybe the "fish" stage of phylogeny in their electronic gadgetry.
Ever wonder what happens to those cruddy old electronic toys you discard?
My kids buy them. With their own money, they know better than to ask mom {aka the Lawgiver} for this category of crap. And they LOVE them.
While they may be only guppies electronically speaking, they are peak predators in maximizing their purchasing power. B, age 6, had no qualms going up to the nice man at the garage sale, smiling sweetly and saying he really liked the $5 Gameboy Color (circa 1993?) but he'd prefer not just the game it came with but the $2 game next to it thrown in for free. Of course, he got it.
J agonized at the Goodwill over whether to invest $3 in an original (1989) Gameboy with accompanying Tetrus game. It might be a $3 paperweight as there was no way to test whether it still worked. Ingeniously, he reduced his risk by having N put up $1.50 in return for half ownership of the toy. Later, when J tried to buy out N's half (after discovering the toy did work), I had to put a stop to his selfish gene.
The original playstation entered our house in similar fashion.
Our home is about to be rocked by what those of the evolutionary persuasion will attribute to punctuated equilibrium. A Wii may mysteriously appear on Christmas...thus skipping several links in the electronic evolutionary chain. But missing transitional forms are a vexing problem in all evolution, aren't they?
No Gouldian hopeful monster (Santa Claus) but the Designer himself (Dad) is in the Wii market. And proving his omniscience and wisdom, I wouldn't be surprised if a Wii Fit also made it's way under the tree. Dad, you might remember, is a consummate salesman and knows all the audiences in the house--including his wife--quite well.
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 23, 2008 - What you should be reading.
Would you take a moment to share your favorite read(s) lately?
My recommendations:
In Defense of Food by Michael Pollen. Ya gotta love a guy who writes a NY Times magazine article which begins: Eat Food. Mostly Plants. Not too much. and then expands it into a 10 page article. Well, now he's expanded it into a 200 some odd page book and it is fascinating and funny. This one will have you running to order your Community Supported Agriculture food.
Farewell, My Subaru by Doug Fine. I hesitate to recommend this one, just a teensy bit. Some of you will be offended by it. There is lots of Bush bashing that one has to overlook (some of you will cheer; I had to overlook). And the guy sleeps around, though he spares us the details. But for the conservative Christians amongst us (myself included), it would be a mistake to skip this book entirely. First off, any author who begins his book with back to back quotes from Bill Bryson (my most favorite author on the whole planet) and Homer Simpson is probably going to be a bit funny. Second, the topic--"An Epic Adventure in Local Living" is a challenge to all of us seeking to live lightly upon the earth.
I guess I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention the Mennonite cookbook
"More with Less." 2/3 cookbook, 1/3 Christian perspective on the moral dimension of our food choices. I forget the specific author but it is a classic.
Can you all see where my mind has been lately? On my stomach!
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 21, 2008 - Mr. Wonderful ticks me off sometimes.
Several nights when my sister was here, Mr. Wonderful sat with his laptop,
doing what we thought was work. However, when asked, he owned up to
cruising the redemption options for the points for performance he
earned for being awesome at what he does at work.
Points for performance is a big deal for Mr. Wonderful. I drag him
out on walks with me in the evenings and on more than one occasion,
he has spent the entire walk talking about what he might want to get,
how the points seem to vary in value from item to item, etc. Sales
incentives were made for Mr. Wonderful. To say they are motivating
is an understatement. Points for Performance is crack to him.
So, we are heading off to our Father's Day Tasting Tour of Chicago
last week. "I think I've finally decided what to get with my
points." he announces gravely.
"Really? What are you getting?" (The astute amongst you will already
have detected where this is going.)
"Well, I don't think I have enough points to get a Wii for the kids,
so I think I will use my points for a gps navigator."
You have got to be kidding me.
"Really?" I just stare at him. "Are you sure?" Meaningful look.
He looks bewildered. He knows he has just gotten The Look, but can't
for the life of him figure out what he's done wrong.
"What? What's wrong? Speak it!"
So I did, telling him how I've been planning on getting him a gps
navigator for our anniversary. Detailing all the people I've
consulted, the posts on my family email loop about it, reminding him of how I
tried to trick him into talking about it while we were fishing etc
etc. I even threw in the bit about how I've realized gift giving is
a major love language of his and how I'm trying to learn to speak
that language, even though my own preference would be that no one
ever fools with giving gifts for any occasion.
I tell him the gps I want to get him. "Oh, that is a very nice one."
he said. "Wow." Those who know my kids well know that when they are
pleased in a very self-conscious way, they do what my sisters and I
call "bird lips." I swear Mr. Wonderful is doing bird lips.
Which makes it all worthwhile even if it did spoil the surprise.
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 20, 2008 - Mr. Taylor and Me
He did it. He came and inspected my lawn. He now knows I am complete sham in the horticulture department.
OK, so I mightakindasorta invited him to come look at my field bindweed. But it wasn't until Mr. Taylor looked askance at my "truck" mulch in the driveway that I remembered he had admonished against using this, prefering the more sterilized bag mulch. Crud. It's like disappointing Obi Wan or Yoda, disappointing this guy. Not that he cares. I am sure my yard is of no real concern to Mr. Taylor so long as I keep my bindweed in a galaxy far, far from his. But I want yard approval from this Jedi Knight of the Suburban Landscape.
And I spilled my guts. Told him how he had become a feature in my crazed cyber ramblings. Told him of the bunny stompings. He asked, hinting at some dark knowledge, "Do you WANT the bunnies in your yard?" I couldn't go there..."Well, no, but I don't want to hurt the bunnies, you know?" He did, or at least pretended to, and kept whatever bunny secrets to himself. But come to think of it, while I often see birds in Mr. Taylor's yard, I have never seen a bunny dare to show it's furry little face there. Some knowledge is just too terrible and wonderful for me.
Mr. Taylor looked at his transplant grass he loaned us. I say "his" and "loan" because even though he gave it to us, I think there was an implied contract of stewardship--much as God gives us dominion over the earth but probably isn't all too pleased with how we muck it up. The problem, he diagnosed, was not in the stomping it in. I had stomped appropriately (the squeakings of the bunnies attests to that, I thought). I had not watered enough. Was the reproach I felt my own guilt conscience? Perhaps, but when the guy comes *with* a bag of patch seed, despite my protests that I did have some, one feels a certain sense of I'd better do this right this time.
Fortunately, Mr. Taylor concurs with the plan of attack on the field bindweed. He tweaked the recommendation by suggesting we get a 2 gallon compression tank for our killer so we can "mist" or "stream" as needed and have it all mixed up, ready to go, to treat often. He also suggests treating shortly before a rain, another twist on our internet/nursery advice. Interesting that I honestly believe Mr. Taylor has validated the internet/nursery approach rather than the internet validating Mr. Taylor's. When it comes to lawns, the guy is not to be questioned.
I pointed out my compost as we walked back to the front yard. Does he compost, I inquire? He does not. So I have one up on Mr. Taylor? But, I told him, I probably have to throw my compost out as I think I put some bindweed in it and the seeds can germinate even after being dormant 28 years. Weeds go in the yard recycling bags, he told me, but if I want to add a little organic fertilizer to the compost, it will break down even faster. Another point learned. One does not get one up on Mr. Taylor.
Off to make some cookies for my Lawn Hero...
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 19, 2008 - The ugly side of my competitive nature.
Ya gotta play life to win. Sure, Mr. Taylor has the best yard
around. He of the transplant grass bed (don't tell him I killed all
the good grass he gave us).
But I have the best weed. The Holy Mother of Weeds. My sister couldn't
identify it, though she was quite amused at the crowd of neighbors
who gathered to examine it. No one knew what it was. Weeds are
serious business here in Stepford-land. Our backyard neighbor, who
spent two years improving her lawn, took one look at it and implored
me to call the professionals. I should NOT mess around with this,
she said. Not only will it destroy my yard, but the consensus seems
to be it will ruin my life as well. My horticulturally inclined sister had already given us one
death sentence; my exotic stinkhorn fungus which she identified
(google it, I dare you) cannot be killed. But what was this kudzu
comparable weed-thing?
I ripped at The Thing all of last year, when it was confined only to
our front beds. Mostly to no avail. This year it is in the yard as
well, which makes it serious business. I will lose friends if this
Thing travels to the neighbors' lawns.
Mr. Wonderful dutifully trotted off with a weed sample this morning,
hoping to id it at the local nursery during lunch. They weren't
terribly helpful, so DH found it himself on line.
Here's a sampling of comments about it:
http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/32093/
Field bindweed, aka creeping jenny, can have roots up to 30 feet
deep. Lovely, hunh? It is one of the top 12 most difficult weeds to
get rid of.
Now, I always like to excel, but this--and the 11 cavities my three
sons collected amongst them according to our dentist and his new
fangled cavity finding laser probe, but I digress--is one area where
I really could have been quite content being run of the mill,
ordinary, average. I would be satisfied being a C student of weeds.
Field bindweed has catapulted me into the A+ category.
The all out chemical assault begins tomorrow. Mr. Wonderful bought a
battery powered spritzer for what we anticipate will be a long and
bloody war. The Thing already won last week's Round Up Battle.
Spectricide Slaughter is our next plan of attack.
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 19, 2008 - Homeschooling Threatens our Cultural Comfort
Good read! Blessings, Holly
http://www.djournal.com/pages/story.asp?ID=274594&pub=1&div=Opinion
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Jun. 9, 2008 - My This n That.
So, we started summer vacation last week, but we also had company.
Today is our first real day of summer vacation without the very welcome distraction of cousins and before the somewhat dreaded (I love em, but there's a LOT of em) descent of a 25 member tween group here tomorrow for hang out time.
We signed up for the library reading program. All the kids eagerly scooted off and have put in at least an hour, if not two, of reading.
We watched and talked about a cool National Geographic DVD on Troy (Did Troy really exist? Did the Trojan War really happen? Was Helen of Troy a real person?).
We played two rounds of a Go Fish type game that matches Greek and Roman Roots to their English translations.
I get more education accomplished when we don't have school than when we do. I think there's a lesson to be had in there somewhere.
Also, as a result of my weekend state homeschool conference, I now understand a visual method for factoring polynomials. Who knew there WAS anything besides the FOIL method? But now I understand the what and why of factoring polynomials. This makes me think I really should be using Math-U-See and now I am in some curricular angst. It also comes a bit too late for J, who did Algebra this year but I think a visual representation such as I learned this weekend will come in very handy when my artist N tackles Algebra.
I also took away a great line from speaker Inge Cannon. You get what you INSPECT, not what you EXPECT. Good reminder as a parent that just 'cuz ya got one you don't have to follow up on, don't think the younger brothers are weird because you DO have to follow up with them. It's the big one that's weird, the younger ones are NORMAL in their slackness, laziness, childishness, call it whatyouwill. Annoying, but normal.
I also spent 3 hours in a Transcript Bootcamp and now feel reasonably confident I can put together a transcript for college apps that won't scream "My mommy is my guidance counselor."
I found and bought a wonderful Medieval History-Based Writing Lessons book; again, coming at the conclusion of spending the year with the boys on, you guessed it, Medieval History. So I am thinking Medieval History will be a two year course before we move on to Renaissance and Reformation, then maybe two years of US. We'll see. I need to hit Ancient History one more time probably.
Listened to a fascinating talk by Dr. John Morris of Institute for Creation Research on his 13 trips to Mt. Ararat in search of Noah's Ark. He's holds a PhD in engineering geology and cuts an odd Indiana Jones figure. He's like the Indy of the latest movie (ie old), and endearingly humble, but full of all these wild tales from Ararat--terrorists, wolf and mountain lion attacks, being struck by lightning (they now call the place where it happened Zap Rock). He showed us very interesting photos of a man made cave with inscriptions that are pre-Hittite. Also an ancient burial stone with 8 crosses (again, probably pre-Hittite) and an altar they found. All these things, more ancient that the most ancient civilization, and on the very mountain where eye witnesses place the Ark? hmmm....
Now, off for a walk before more rain moves in.
Blessings, Holly
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Jun. 2, 2008 - Teaching Kids Responsibility
Interested in teaching your kids responsibility? Check out this site, an outgrowth of Liberty Mutual's "Responsibility. What's your policy?" ad campaign. Seems like there's lots of good discussion material here! You'll notice I added a widget for this site in to my Links category over to the right.
http://www.responsibilityproject.com/about/
Blessings, Holly
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May. 29, 2008 - I love this little guy.
"MOMMOMMOM! M-O-O-O-O-M!!!" DS#3, the one a family doc says has "pizazz," doesn't so much enter a room as explode into it.
"What?" I'm looking for the blood or severed limb.
"There are baby BUNNIES in our yard!"
Uh-oh.
"How do you know?"
"I saw them!"
"Where?"
"In a hole in the ground."
"Show me." He runs ahead outside to, if you'll pardon the pun, my old stomping grounds.
"B, this hole is covered up. How did you see them?"
"I uncovered it."
Ah. Well, now I'm curious. "How many did you see?"
"Three and they did this:" Here he imitates a Mexican jumping bean and adds in a hiccup noise with each jerk.
Hmmm...I best investigate. I gently uncover and see at least three ticking-hicking absolutely cutest of baby bunnies one could ever hope to see. These things probably just got their fur (and hence, their cuteness) as they are tiny, smaller than a decent sized hamster.
I gently cover them up and explain to B that now that we've looked, we really have to leave them alone. Did he feel how warm the nest was when we uncovered it? If we do that too much, the bunnies would get too cold and die. So we just have to leave them be. But yes, they are very cute.
He pauses, gravely.
And then he looks absolutely PANICKED which betrays the "so, just in a rhetorical fashion, just a casual question here" tone he tries to innocently pass off, "Mom, if we uncovered them and TOUCHED them, would they die?"
"No, honey. They wouldn't die. But we shouldn't keep uncovering them because they could die if they get too cold or if bigger animals find them. We took our look, which was fine, but we shouldn't do it again."
He looks incredibly relieved (I know the feeling).
Several quiet moments later...
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Baby rabbits are really soft."
I love that little guy. Even more than baby rabbits.
Blessings, Holly
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May. 28, 2008 - Mr. Taylor is after me.
I set out on my walk today and passed Mr. Taylor who--as always--was out working on his yard. I thanked him for the grass transplants.
"Was it enough?"
"Yep, sure was, thank you."
"Have you watered it?"
(Didn't I just plant it two days ago? And didn't it rain like the dickens one night?)
"Oh...No. Should I?"
He looked at me reproachfully. "You need to keep water on it everyday."
"Good idea. Should I water it when I get home tonight then?"
He brightened. "Yep, probably should."
Me, edging away, "OK, then. Thanks again."
Him, calling out as I disappear around the corner, "Though they like it best to be watered in the morning."
I think the guy is going to come inspect my grass transplants! And if I kill it--which in case you haven't noticed is my wont with flora and fauna as of late--I don't know what Mr. Taylor will do. I suspect he will take it personally. And worse yet, maybe cut off my good grass transplant supply.
I should have known I wasn't cut out for his level of Zen and the Art of Suburban Lawn Maintenance. Just what I need, another area of my life for stress and inadequacy to set up house...like trying to shepherd four kids doesn't provide enough instances for those feelings in a day (hour, minute)!
Blessings, Holly
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May. 28, 2008 - Dumb Bunny
The bunny obviously doesn't google. Rather than feeding her babies at night, as google stated she would to avoid detection of her brood, this genius lagomorph shows up at 6pm.
Broad daylight. In the middle of my front yard, squatting on her nest for all to see.
The original dumb bunny.
Plus, I'm not sure she really gets the whole mothering/nursing thing. Do the babies crawl up out of the burrow to meet her? Because she clearly wasn't hunkered down, just plopped at ground level. But her ears were back, eyes half-closed as if she were exhausted. I recognize this as the cross-species, universal, I-can't-believe-I-have-to-nurse-again-so-soon look. Guess she doesn't realize how cushy her life is having only to show up once a day to perform her motherly duties.
Blessings, Holly
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May. 26, 2008 - I am killer of robins, murderer of bunnies.
You remember the baby robins. I peered into their nest; they thought
it was the Apocalypse and skittered/flew/dove in mass panic. No one
has been back to the nest since.
Today, I transplanted grass. Not just any grass. Good juju grass
from the guy with the perfect yard down the street. His lawn IS his
retirement activity and I was hoping that his flora-mojo would take
over my lawn in the same way my crabgrass threatened to. Mr.
Wonderful dug up our crabgrass; I planted the Mr. Taylor perfect
grass. While Mr. Taylor does keep a transplant bed of grass (!),
this just came from under some trees he dug around today.
Mr. Taylor, whom I follow on lawn care very precisely--though never
to the same glorious results he obtains--explicitly said there must
be NO air pockets between the soil and the transplant. You really
gotta stomp it down, he told me.
When I finished with the back yard, I decided to tackle one bare spot
right in front, right by our front walk. DH had seen some rabbit
burrowing there early one morning. He had chased it off and we had
put a bag over the hole for a day, then lightly replaced the dirt
that had been displaced.
I put the new transplant grass on top of the spot and
STOMPSTOMPSTOMPED, jumping up and down. And then I heard, "squeak,
squeak, squeak!"
I took off running. I ran straight to Mr. Wonderful, told him I
could not bear to look but that he must.
He reports there are 4 or 5 squirming nearly hairless newborn bunnies
in there. "Squirming or writhing?" I ask. He's not sure, but they
are still alive at this moment.
I googled and mother rabbits nurse once a day, usually at night. You
generally won't see them return to the nest.
But what about the bag? Did that seal off mama rabbit? I don't think there was a nest there then. But what about the dirt we replaced? It didn't appear to have been
disturbed. Or does she cover up the burrow nest opening after she
comes to nurse? And what of the stomping? DH said the nest was
fur lined, but would that provide enough cushioning along with a few
inches of dirt to protect from internal injury?
What makes all this worse (if that were possible), is that just
before the robins, I had an idea for a writing piece rolling around
in my head. A sort of tribute to my mother...not that I am a green
thumb like she is, but that I notice and appreciate nature. That I
know the robins at the corner individually and I can tell you when
and where the egret will be in the pond. And that I notice these
things because my mother noticed these things. It was going to be a
lovely ode; certainly the thing that would get my writing noticed
beyond my email distribution list. And it would make my mother
happy, something any decent person should really strive to have as a
life goal.
But now I am just the anti-mom, destroying life where ever I
confront it. And not even snakes or disgusting life (which my mom
wouldn't do but I might could justify.) Cute life. It's unbearable.
Blessings, Holly
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May. 24, 2008 - I finally figured it out after 17 years.
They (the authoritative ones...Freud in this case?) say a little girl always grows up and marries a version of her father.
I've never gotten that. Sure, dad and Mr. Wonderful were/are both in sales but that's where the similarity stops, I always thought.
Until today.
DH came home after taking the boys boating. Now, DH does not speak lightly--ever. He's not what anyone would accuse of being wildly chatty.
"Busy spot today up at the lake. Tons of people everywhere."
"Oh?"
"I seemed to create quite a stir with my boat. Lots of people came and talked to me about it."
"Really?"
"One guy just came and walked all around it, touching it. Never said anything. He was Asian, maybe there was a language barrier."
"What did the ones who talked say? 'What the heck is that? A folding BOAT?'"
"Yeah, pretty much." He then went on about how quickly he can set it up and take it down (takes longer to tie it on top of the car then set it up). How well it worked. How the trolling motor wasn't quite as fast as he had hoped and certainly fell short of the speedboat expectations of the kids. etcetc
And what floated before my eyes was the indelible memory of my dad on his inexplicable recumbent bicycle with the thoroughly puzzling bike attire that made him look exactly like a bumblebee. Dad rode that bike and in that get up, I am FULLY convinced, purely for the reactions it sparked.
Strange pride in weird toys is what ties my husband and my dad together. I get it now.
Blessings, Holly
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May. 21, 2008 - Eat, Pray, Love, Barf
So, has anyone read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert? I am beginning to think bestseller status should be a contraindicator to me of whether or not I should read a book. Kite Runner had a empty, ritualistic notion of an impersonal God--and a few child rape scenes just in case real life doesn't provide us with enough tragedy to cope with. Eat, Pray, Love (and my addition, Barf) has the author *is* God spin to it. Which is a handy way to justify adultery when one comes to think of it. Well, that and apologizing to the blue spirit light that represents your ex-husband and then carrying on with peace. Her own peace, of course, which is all Gilbert seems truly concerned with. I suspect the real flesh and blood ex may think that a tad inadequate, but what do I know? At the same time, it is a gorgeously written book, funny, insightful, interesting and not without merit. Gilbert understands that we need grace from God, she just gets incredibly tripped up along the way as to who or what God is and how that grace can truly be found. She resolutely ignores that her most intense spiritual devotions fall within a system that denies the individuality and personality of God, even as she tells us early on that she just can't think of or pray to God as an impersonal being (this should be a hint that Yoga and Hindu practices are not for you!). I pray someday that she recognizes the "other pen" in her private journals that pretty much quotes Joshua 1:9 to her. Does Gilbert even recognize it as such? It doesn't seem so. Which would just be irritating if it weren't so tragic. As Francis Schaeffer wrote, "these (wo)men are dying while they live; yet where is our compassion for them?" Schaeffer goes on to say "there is nothing more ugly than a Christian orthodoxy without understanding and without compassion." It seems Gilbert has run across far too many of this type of Christian to truly consider Christ. And she seems to confuse Christians with the Republican party. In her book, that certainly doesn't help matters. That's what keeps my irritation with Gilbert from overflowing into sheer hostility. I don't want to be a stumbling block in the path of someone so determined to pursue truth. That, and the fact that she writes in glowing prose that I will never, in a million years, be able to replicate. That, and the fact that she is at least aware she has shredded people and does seem to feel kinda bad about it. That, and the fact that I think if I ever met Gilbert, I would really like her. Personal fulfillment absent true transcendent morality remains an empty tale, however; no matter how well it's told. Blessings, Holly
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May. 16, 2008 - One FREE Oil Pastel Set per Family
Pentel Art is offering one free oil pastel set per household. Use the link
and promo code below.
http://www.pentelar
Register with your address & enter the promotional code SA2008
Blessings, Holly
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May. 14, 2008 - Am I weird?
BTW, what does it say about me that my neighbor just called me from *behind* Costco to let me know she was driving by and saw a nice patio set in their dumpster for me? She has already retrieved three of the chairs for us, but was calling to let us know of the rest...she said she knew I was "into dumpster diving."
For the record, I have never been in a dumpster. I think there is a world of difference between taking something from the neighborhood curbside trash (I prefer the term "informal swap meet" to trash day) if one happens to be walking by it and seeking out items at industrial dumpsters. But now that she's already gotten three of the chairs for us...
Anyway, I'm too chicken to do it. I called Mr. Wonderful and asked him to scope it out on his way home. Neighbor says they are nice wrought iron chairs; she couldn't really get a good look at the table, but says it would involve removing all the seats from the van to fit the table in.
But still, I'm not sure I'm sending out so much an eco-chic green vibe as an oddly eccentric cheapskate vibe to the world around me.
Blessings,
Holly
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May. 14, 2008 - FREE Middle School Science Kits
Hi, all! Registration is open for Physics Quest.
I cannot say enough about this program. We've done it the past two years and if you sign up quickly enough, the folks at Physics Quest will send you a free self contained science kit with necessary experiment supplies.
This is usually shipped in the fall, but they run out of the free kits quickly, so register TODAY if you have a 6th-9th grader. Kits will also be available for sale (about $20) after the free ones run out.
I love these because not only do the kids learn great science, but the kits always come with a little mystery type puzzle to solve. If you get the right answers on the experiments, it will provide the correct clues to solve the mystery.
Plus, each year they feature a different scientist (Tesla is the upcoming one), so the kids learn a little history/biography as well.
http://www.physicscentral.com/experiment/physicsquest/index.cfm
Blessings,
Holly
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May. 13, 2008 - Verdict
Salmon was very moist but bland. While flaky, it was not hot, but warm so I nuked it 30 seconds to ward off food poisoning.
Butternut squash was just clean, not cooked at all. Will recycle that for tomorrow's meal, done in a more conventional manner.
Mr. Wonderful suggests I just put the salmon in a ziploc bag and throw it in the tub with me next time I take a bath. He's so absurd.
But, hey, it was fun and how many people can say they've eaten Dishwasher Salmon? As I told my sister-in-law, I've been married nearly 17 years. Gotta change it up every now and then to keep things fun. I'm not sure Mr. Wonderful thought it was all that fun, but gave him a good excuse to eat his favorite food on the planet for dinner...wait for it...Chef Boyardee. Who's the crazy one?
Blessings,
Holly
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