One way or another, I'm going to get there.

I'm entered in several different writing contests right now, two of which are National History Day and White River Valley Electric Cooperative's Youth Tour Essay Contest.

I have entered a paper in the National History Day competition for three years now. Each year, I've been a state finalist (one of the 6 best in the state), but have never been able to make it to nationals. (The top two from each state go to nationals, held in D.C. the week of June 11-16.) Today was the History Day state competition in Columbia (5 hours away). Dad and I drove up last night, stayed in a hotel, and attended the competition in the morning. Because this is my third year doing this, I've pretty much got it down to a science. Normally I would have an interview in the morning, and then we would hang out or go to the Capitol (30 minutes away) while we waited for the awards ceremony, which starts around 4 PM.

That's normally.

The other contest I was entered in was the Youth Tour Essay contest. For that competition, I submitted an essay (I chose to write about Alexander Fleming and penicillin), and then was informed that my essay was one of seven selected as finalists. I would take a written test about the electric cooperative system, and present my essay orally. The judging would be the evening of April 14 (today) at College of the Ozarks (5 hours from Columbia, where I had History Day all day). However, I was also entered in another contest, and the judging was that same evening. The prize for that contest was an all-expenses paid trip to DC... June 9-15.

Hmm.

We skipped the History Day awards ceremony (we find out Monday how I did), and whizzed back home, arriving about three hours before the beginning of the judging. I had my penicillin essay almost memorized before we left, and during the long car rides, I finished memorizing it and present it to Dad a couple of times.

Then came the kicker. I had received a letter with information about the contest about a month ago, but hadn't read it very thoroughly. When I got it out to see what room the judging would be in , I found to my horror that I only had three minutes to present my essay. It takes ten minutes to recite... if I talk fast. I discovered this 15 minutes before we were supposed to leave.

I made haste down to the office, confessed my oversight, and begged Mom to help me figure out what to cut out of the essay in order to get it down to 1/3 its length. She made some suggestions, I hastily crossed out sections of the essay, and then I grabbed a timer and ran up to my room to see how long it was. No matter how fast I talked, it still ended up being about 3:15. Sigh.

I got in the car, and on the way to the judging, cut some more out, tried to add in the parts that Mom and Dad liked best, found that it couldn't be done, and eventually just left it the way it was. Still kicking myself over my failure to check on this ahead of time, I walked into the building, resolving to just do my best and let the chips fall where they may.

**********

I have to go to bed now. I'll finish this tomorrow. If you're really desparate for the whole scoop, you can read it on Mom's blog.

Mark Across America - see the video here

I'm a HUGE Mark Schultz fan, and I think it's really neat that he's doing this! Quick note - I know this video could get really annoying after a while, so I'm going to take it down in a couple weeks so it doesn't play every time you open my blog. After that, you can see it here: http://markacrossamerica.org/media/movies/overview.swf.

Be forewarned: the following post will probably bore you. It is one long complaint about how miserable I feel, so if you don't want to read it, then don't. I don't really feel as bad as I'm going to make it out to be... but a blog is like a journal, right? You record whatever is on your mind. And right now this is on my mind:

I'm beat.

After a totally crazy day yesterday (see Mom's entry about this), in which we ran errands in Branson all morning and in Springfield all afternoon, with about two hours at home in betweeen, today is Thursday. Thursday = AIM. After doing a little bit of schoolwork and eating a healthy lunch of a sandwich and potato chips (I hope you hear the sarcasm there), Jess, Jo and I left at 11:30 for AIM. Jess had some books to return at the library, so we did that before going to the church where we practice. Sitting in the car, waiting for Jess to come back out, I had this thought: It's really hot out here. Sure, it's only March 22, but already temperatures are in the 80s. And "my" car, an '86 Camry, is in great shape, except for one thing: the A/C doesn't work. Evidently there's a little leak in the system somewhere, and the refrigerant all leaked out. The solution? An annual radiator flush (is that the right term? Probably not. I don't remember), which, if I do it in May, will hopefully get me through September. You know, I might want to do it a little early this year. Maybe I can do two radiator flushes.

AIM was tiring as always... and I wasn't even doing anything but pressing play and pause on the MP3 player, so I can't imagine how the rest of the team must feel. By 4:30, I was wiped out. Then I drove home. I'm sure it was ten degrees hotter than it was this morning. Even with the windows all the way down, and a pretty strong breeze, I was sweating. This, in MARCH!

According to weather.com, the current temperature is 79 degrees. That's nearly 20 degrees above normal for this time of year. My bedroom is on the third floor, and is therefore almost always the hottest room in the house. Often, you hit a wall of warm air as you ascend into the attic. This is very nice in winter, but it can become unbearable in summer. I haven't asked yet for permission to turn the A/C on up here. The thermostat in the library (20 feet away) reads 85 degrees, and it's noticably warmer in my room. If you haven't noticed... I'm kinda hot.

Not to mention tired and hungry. I always get a bit of a headache after AIM practice. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I don't drink enough water. Also, I'm totally exhausted and could fall into the bed and go to sleep now (after changing into some cooler clothes, of course). This from a person who is rarely in bed by 11:00. As for the hungry part, we normally eat at 5:30, we're ravenous by 4:30 on Thursdays (because practice takes so much out of you), and it's 6:30 now and we still haven't eaten because Dad isn't home yet.

Oy. I'm going to go read or do something else that requires no energy whatsoever. Because I don't have any. :)

I find it hard to believe that none of us - Mom, Jess, or I - have mentioned this yet! You know those games where you're fighting a monster, and you have to knock off the monster's health, or hearts, and at the same time he's trying to knock out your health, and whoever runs out of hearts first wins? Well, Bookworm Adventures is like that, but with a wordy twist.

In Bookworm Adventures, you are Lex, a bookworm, and you are trying to rescue Cassandra the Oracle. To rescue her, you must defeat an endless series of "monsters." There are three "books" of monsters, each containing ten "chapters." Each chapter contains anywhere from 4 to 10 monsters. You defeat these monsters by spelling words from the 16 letters you are given. There are all sorts of power ups and potions and stuff to make it fun. It's terribly addicting. The good thing is, your free trial expires after 45 minutes, and then you can only play in 5-minute increments. If I had the full version, I would never get anything done.

I downloaded it and started playing a few weeks before the mission trip. When I got back, I found that everyone else in the house (except for Dad) was totally hooked on the game. That would be Mom, Jessica, Josiah, and even 7-year-old Andrew. In fact, I think Andrew's more addicted than any of us. Jessica says he's asked 10 times today if he can play on her computer. Then a couple hours ago, he came up and announced excitedly that after half a dozen tries, he had finally beaten the Medusa, the last monster in Book 1!

All that to say... Bookworm Adventures is a terribly fun, terribly addicting game that is highly recommended for any word lover (and even those who aren't so crazy about them). You can download it from PopCap or from Yahoo! Games, but the PopCap version only lets you play the first seven chapters, so we all use the Yahoo version. Have fun!

P.S. One totally unrelated note - I'm re-dating all my mission trip journal entries so that are posted on the day that they were written. So if I wrote something on February 10, it says it was posted on February 10 (instead of March 10 like it actually was). So now if you're looking for new journal entries, click on "CAMT Journal" on the left, under "My Entries by category," and that will bring up all my CAMT journal entries.

The title says it all. One of the few things that could make it possible for me to post a blog entry at 10 AM on a Sunday morning: an ice storm. Here in the Missouri Ozarks, we're bracing for the third round of ice and freezing rain to hit us in a 48-hour span. So far, we've been spared the worst of it, but it looks like our turn is about to come.

So far, most of the storm's icy weather has passed well north of us; however, we have gotten a substantial amount of rain. The creeks are very high, and the roads are very wet. Other than that, however, we haven't been substantially affected by the weather.

To the north of us, though, it's an entirely different story. Freezing rain through Friday night and Saturday morning left many people with up to two inches of ice on their trees (see photo - from KY3), roads - and power lines. At one point, hundreds of thousands of people, including much of Springfield, were without power in Southwest Missouri. Some of them have had their power restored, but for others, the power isn't expected to come back on until the middle of next week. That's five days without power!

The worst part about not having power is not having heat. It's not too bad right now, as temperatures are staying in the thirties and upper twenties. But in a couple days, after the rest of the storm passes, temperatures are supposed to plunge to single digits. Brrr. Those who have generators are grateful to have them, but by now they've been running for two days straight, and fuel is running low. Many gas stations are not open. Those that are are sometimes sold out. We have friends who live about 40 miles north of Springfield, and they think they may have to go to Ozark, 10 miles south of Springfield, to get gasoline.

And of course, it's Sunday morning, which has led to dilemas for many churches around the area. At least 25 have canceled their morning service, and many more are making do without power. Our church has a generator, and services will proceed. Because of the icy road conditions, our family will not be there. I imagine that the generator can't provide for all their power needs, though. They have a huge building, and I'm guessing they'll only have lights and sound. A lady from church called this morning... no heat. That is going to be one chilly church service. The worst part is, we were going to have healing evangelist Richard Roberts and the ORU singers in today, and the whole church has been fasting and praying for it all week. I'm not even sure if their planes could get in, or if they're going to be there at all. If not, that'll be really tough on the praise and worship leaders, because the ORU singers were going to do praise and worship today. And of course, Pastor hasn't prepared a sermon, but I'm not worried about that part. Pastor could totally ad lib a sermon, making it up on the spot, and it'd be great.

The next round of bad weather is heading our way, expected to hit this afternoon and evening. The worst of it will be a little north of us, but we're prepared to get some damage, too. Right now we're just sitting tight and battening down the hatches. We're down to our last load of wood for the fireplace, so if the power goes out, we'll be cold like everyone else. But we've got blankets, food, and water. We'll be OK. I'm just praying hard for those who aren't. (picture from KY3)

We've always had a real Christmas tree. That's probably the one thing that has remained constant at Christmas for as long as I can remember. Dad is a person who loves change, so pretty much everything else changes! Take tree toppers, for example. In 1998, we used a paper plate angel that Mom (a Children's Church leader at that time) had made in Children's Church. This angel was used for several years, until one year we were given a different angel. No offense to Mom's handiwork, but there was just no comparison between the two. The new angel was one of those classic Christmasy things - flowing satin skirt, long golden-brown hair, sparkling wings, halo, etc. This angel even had two Christmas lights designed to look like candles that she held in her hands. The only problem was, these two candles were held in such a way that when the light was turned on, the candles shone directly onto this lady's upper anatomy! When we first noticed this we all burst out laughing... rolling on the floor laughing... and replaced the angel with Mom's original, which was by now growing a little battered with age. Even today, every time we talk about that angel and her candles, we laugh until we cry!

Soon after that - the next year, perhaps; memory fails me - we retired Mom's now sprightly angel in favor of one of those $10 glittering star tree toppers with a spring on the bottom from Wal-Mart. It worked fine - AIM even used it in their Christmas float this year - but it just didn't seem right to not have an angel on top of the tree. Especially Mom's angel. Battered though she was, that fine lady had become a beloved tradition in our house, and it was kind of sad to see her go.

This year, Dad and Andrew picked out our Christmas tree, and it was a beauty. A gorgeous evergreen with full, bushy branches, with plenty of space underneath for plenty of presents. The only problem was, this rare specimen was about 7 1/2 feet tall. Which wouldn't normally be a problem, but our living room ceiling is only eight feet high. So when we tried to put that glittering star on top of the tree, we found that it was about six inches too tall to be able to fit without hitting the ceiling.

What to do? Well, someone remembered Mom's old angel. After all, she was only about six inches high. Maybe she would fit on top of our tree! After scrounging through several boxes of Christmas ornaments and decorations, we finally found her in the bottom of one box. We set her on the topmost branch... and she fit! We were so excited.

However, this arrangement was not ideal for everyone. Certain family members (I'm not naming names!) had liked the glittering star on top of our tree, and they thought this homemade angel looked rather ameaturish, not to mention battered, and was not befitting such a fine Christmas tree. So we arrived at a compromise. Mom's elderly angel would retain her place at the top of the tree, but we would also have the star hanging on the second-highest branch. Whew! But when we put the star on the branch, the branch slowly tilted to one side, leaving the star hanging off the tree in a most comical manner. In fact, it looked exactly like a shooting star. So this year, we have a paper-plate angel approaching her tenth birthday and a glittering shooting star for our co-tree toppers. Robertses can never do anything the normal way.

The tree toppers were not the only unusual feature of this year's Christmas-tree-decorating ceremony. We use strands of lights on our Christmas tree - some white, and some colored - and so after taking care of the tree topper, the next order of business was to string lights. However, we have used the same light strands for many years, and this year one of the colored strands burnt out. No problem - we'll just go to Wal-Mart and get some more! So we did, and Dad, Light-Stringer-Extraordinaire, began the difficult task of stringing the three strands of lights in such a way that all six members of the family would be pleased with them.

Yeah, right.

After the Wal-Mart purchase, we had two strands of white lights and one strand of colored lights. We decided that we wanted the white lights to go over the whole height of the tree, and the colored lights to do the same. Accordingly, Dad first wrapped the two strands of white lights around the tree, planning to wrap the single strand of colored lights afterward.

Dad succeeded in wrapping the white lights, but here was where things got tricky. Finding the single colored strand too short to go all the way around the tree as the white lights had, Dad decided to wrap the colored lights in parallel rows across the front of the tree (our tree is in a corner, and only two sides of it can be seen anyway). When he did this, starting from the bottom, he could only get halfway up the tree before the lights ran out. He tried again, spacing the rows farther apart, but he could still get only about two-thirds of the way up the tree. Hmm.

Robertses - and Dad in particular - are creative, outside-the-box problem solvers, so we all sat down to think. But no one could think of anything except Jo, who had been roundly criticizing every move Dad made while he was trying to wrap the tree. Needless to say, this made us reluctant to hear him out, but finally we let him talk. He suggested that instead of stringing the lights in horizontal rows, we could string them in vertical rows, going up and down the tree. We were skeptical, but Josiah was adamant that his idea would work. Finally we agreed to give it a try, on one condition: since he had been so critical of Dad's wrapping job, he would have to do it himself!

Jo agreed and set to work. As he strung the lights - rather haphazardly, I thought - we all criticized his every move, frustrating him to no end. I think we got our point across. By the end, the tree was looking pretty sorry, and so was Jo.

Despite this mediocre outcome, Dad still thought Jo's idea had merit, so he tried it, with Jessica helping him. In the end, they got the lights looking pretty good, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. I'm telling you, it shouldn't be this hard! But then again, if it was easy, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. :)

Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. One person asked for it. But it's all relative. If only three people ever visit your blog, one request makes it popular! I take what I can get. :)

So part of the reason I haven't been writing is that I've been swamped with other stuff. Granted, some things are done - the AIM Christmas session is over, for example - but lately I've just been swimming in writing projects. Want specifics? Well, of course there's my book, and Mom will absolutely murder me if I don't have a first draft done by Dec. 31. I'm considering asking Grandma and Grandpa to take me in for a few days if I don't make it, because it would not be good! :)) Plus I have regular Sonlight writing assignments (2 per week). I had one essay contest due Nov. 1, another one due Nov. 31. I did both of those, and now I have one due Dec. 31 and yet another due before I leave on the mission trip.

THE MISSION TRIP!!! I haven't posted about that yet! Well, the long and short of it is, I'm going on AIM's California Mission Trip from January 24 to February 20 (including Leadership Camp). I won't be presenting, but it'll be a great experience anyway. I'm a little nervous, which is to be expected, I guess. Fundraising is going pretty slowly, and it's a given that the mission trip will be really tough and intense. But mostly I don't have time or brainpower to waste being nervous! :) It'll be good. I'm really excited about it, especially about going to Leadership Camp. That's going to be a really great experience.

And no matter what anybody else says, I'm glad Andrew is directing. Jenny is awesome, yes, but I prefer Andrew as a director, b/c he's not going to kill you if you do something wrong! He's a lot more easygoing. Yes, I know that Jenny's intensity can be a very good thing. I just feel like Andrew's directing style works better for me, especially since I also have a very easygoing personality. I've had him as a MT director and a team director, and I think he does a really good job. I kind of feel like I have to defend him from the army (well, two) of Jenny-lovers that can't understand why I like him better. :)

OK, good night. I'd better get to bed so I can get up on time tomorrow so I can write so I can meet deadlines so I can go on the mission trip!!! I really hope I can post again soon.

Check out my new car! It's not the most beautiful car in the world, but it runs fine and that's all that really matters to me at this point! It snowed this week, so that explains the buildup on the car - and the sledder (is that a word?) in the background. :)

I was tagged on August 24 by Ivy, but didn't see it until today! *blush* So here it is, albeit a little late!

Name 5 things in your freezer: Well, it's not MY freezer, but...

1. sausage biscuits

2. freezer meals

3. California Blend veggies

4. bagels

5. ice pack

We have a pretty boring freezer.

Name 5 thing in your closet:

1. dresses

2. pillows

3. overalls

4. stuffed animals

5. suitcases

Name 5 things in your car: Again, it's not my car!

1. sunglasses

2. Mom's headphones

3. a pencil sharpener

4. road maps for half a dozen states

5. owner's manual

Name 5 things in your purse:

1. comb

2. checkbook

3. keys

4. shopping list from a month ago

5. headphones

Name 5 things in your wallet: My wallet is actually empty! I have some cash, but I haven't put it in my wallet yet. This list is for my checkbook:

1. library card

2. driver's license

3. expired nondriver's license (ID card)

4. receipts

5. credit card

Name 5 people you're going to tag: N/A. I only know about three people on here other than the person that tagged me, and most of them aren't really the type to fill out this form.

Before:

After:

Now, the before shot is a much better picture, but the after, although it's a terrible mugshot, is much better teeth. :)

The appointment is tomorrow at 10:30. I'm so excited! I'll be posting before-and-after pictures asap! I've had them for three years, and had a retainer and a palate expander for about five years before that, so this will be the first time in eight years I haven't had some device in my mouth. I'm planning to celebrate by stopping at Wal-Mart on the way home and buying a bunch of Skittles, Starburst, and gummy bears. :) I can't wait!!!

Please be praying for my friend Amber and her family. Her grandmother, Lois, passed away today. The whole family was very close to Lois, so this is a very difficult time for them. Lois was also a great blessing to countless people in our community, so there are many in mourning today.

There are very few things I like better than watching a game of baseball or softball. Whether it's the major league St. Louis Cardinals, or my dad's church league team, I absolutely love the game. One thing, though, that tops watching softball is playing it. I started playing softball at the age of seven (well, it was actually tee ball at that point!), and played for seven years. I loved every minute of it, and for the first few years I was an average to above-average player. I was an average hitter, okay fielder, good baserunner. I had an above-average arm, which was probably my biggest strength.

In my fourth year, at age eleven, I began learning to pitch (slow-pitch), and by the end of the year I was maybe the #3 pitcher on the team. I still remember, in the last inning of a game in the end-of-season tournament that year, being called on to pitch in relief and getting three straight outs to end the inning and send us on to the next game of the tournament. I will never forget the exhileration that comes from being mobbed by one's teammates! It is perhaps the most wonderful feeling in the world.

But after that year, things started going downhill. Actually, things started going uphill at a pretty fast clip, and I just couldn't keep up. As the others in the league got better and better, learning to do things like bunt, slide, turn double plays, and pitch fast pitch, I found that I had already reached the peak of my abilities. I became a terrible hitter, and failed miserably when I tried to learn fast pitch. Try as I might, I just couldn't keep up with the rest of the players in the league. I remember one year, I was the second-worst player on the team, next to a girl named Tasha who was playing for the first time. I still loved to play, but it was depressing to go night after night without getting a hit, frustrated in the field, and unable to pitch well. I practiced like crazy, my pitching especially. I whirled my arm around in the windmill pitching motion dozens of times every day. But I just couldn't do it well enough to compete.

Finally, I quit. I am a very competitive person, and I just couldn't make myself play the game if I knew I couldn't win at it. I loved the game so much that it was very difficult to walk away, but I did it. It was hard at first, but gradually I've gotten used to it.

But when my friends Amy and Rachel, from AIM, invited me to one of their softball games a couple of months ago, the flame of my love for softball was rekindled. After watching a few of their games, I found myself longing to play with them. And finally, four weeks ago, I got my chance.

It wasn't with Amy and Rachel's team, though - it was with my dad's team. See, Dad plays on a team in the Branson church league (the Promise Keepers; they're not really a church, but that's a whole 'nother post) on Thursday nights, and it just so happened that they were short one player. So I donned my cleats, grabbed my glove, and pulled on a red t-shirt (red is the PK color). I warmed up with Dad, and ended up playing catcher, which is the easiest position on the field in slow-pitch softball, because all you have to do is return the softly lobbed pitches, and occasionally cover home.

We were playing Tri-Lakes Christian, a new team in the league, which had not won a game all year, in our final regular season game. We won the toss, so they batted first. I did fine in my catcher position. I was the last of 10 batters in the order, and my first at-bat came in the very first inning. I took a deep breath, picked up the lightest of the four very heavy bats (intended for 6'1", 180-pound men, not petite 16-year-old girls!) and took my stance in the batter's box.

I struck out on two pitches.

That's possible because in this league, you start with a 1-1 count. Oh well. We were up several runs already, so it wasn't like my one strikeout was the difference between winning and losing.

The other team had three female players, so between innings, Dad and I headed over to their dugout and borrowed a girls' bat. The other team was really nice. Since they pretty much knew they weren't going to win, they were just playing to have fun. The lady playing catcher was even rooting for me every time I came up!

The next time I came up to bat, I swung and missed at the first pitch. "Don't blink!" called Amy, who had come along to cheer me on. I smiled nervously and tried to remember the hitting tips I used to receive years ago. Keep your eyes on the ball, I thought. Whatever you do, keep your eyes on the ball.

Here came the pitch. Wait for it, wait for it... now! Crack! I was off like a shot. I didn't look up until I stood safe on first base. I heard Dad cheering from the dugout, and Jessica and Amy screaming from the bleachers. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had done it! As I came around to score later in the inning, Dad gave me a high-five. He was one proud papa.

The game wasn't over yet. In the next inning, we scored a couple of runs before loading the bases. And then I was up. I walked up to the plate for the third time, still nervous, but with new confidence. I confidently wagged my bat at the pitcher. I swung and missed at the first pitch, but hit the second one solidly toward the left side of the infield, bringing home Dad, who had been standing on third base. Later in the inning, I came around to score, and Dad and I exchanged another round of high fives. It was a wonderful game.

The next week was the first game of the tournament, and, as luck would have it, we played Tri-Lakes Christian again. We were two players short this time, so I and Ms. Cinda, the wife of one of the players, both played. She played in right field, while I again played catcher. Tri-Lakes Christian again batted first, but this time, Tri-Lakes Christian played not like a last-place team, but like a contendor for the championship! They scored eight runs in the first inning before I caught a foul pop-up for the first out. The next two outs came in short order, but we still had a lot of catching up to do.

Ms. Cinda and I did our part. Each of us got on base twice, and the Promise Keepers came back to win by one run. We went on to take second place in the fourteen-team league through a tripleheader the next week. Not bad, huh? I didn't play that week, but I did a lot of rooting. And driving. But that's another story.

Now Dad's team is playing in the fall Men's Recreational league. I won't be playing, but if you ever come to Stockstill Park on a Thursday night this fall and hear someone screaming their lungs out, it's probably me - rooting for the Promise Keepers.

Well, I haven't posted a new entry in a while. I'm trying to think if there's something interesting I can post about, but so far I'm drawing a blank. I mean, I know interesting things have been happening, but I just can't think of any of them. Hmm...

Well, right now I'm at the library. It's Wednesday, which can mean one of two things: 1) We were at home all day and ate supper early and went to church; or 2) We ran errands in Branson all morning, ran errands in Springfield all afternoon, and ate at Wendy's in the evening before going to church. This week it's the latter. We do all our "running" every other week, and today is the day. Our Branson running this morning consisted of visits to Wal-Mart, Country Mart (grocery), Staples, the small Branson library, and two trips to the bank (long story).

The highlight of our Branson run is always our visit to the library. We love books (what homeschooling family doesn't?!?), so we like it for that reason, but the primary reason we look forward to visiting the library is Ms. Beverly. Ms. Beverly is one of the library volunteers. She is so much fun! She has a great sense of humor and is always making us laugh. You should have seen the way she puckered up when Jessica gave her an Icebreaker! ROFLOL!!! And, Andrew's her "hero." She loves him to pieces and lets him come behind the counter and help her check out and stamp books and everything. We always feel sad when Ms. Beverly can't make it for some reason. But she was there today, and we spent several minutes talking and laughing with her, in between checking books in and out!

We got home from our Branson running around noon and left again at 3. That's actually more than we normally have. Some weeks we have as little as an hour and a half between the time we get home in the morning and the time we leave again in the evening. So this afternoon we went to the Boy Scout store to get something for Jo (I'm not entirely sure what! :), and then we headed here, to the library. Then we'll eat and go to church. Sometimes we'll go to Sam's, or Aldi, or the orthodontist on Wednesday afternoons, but we didn't do any of that today.

Well, that entry was pretty boring, but I have other things I need to get done before my session time expires in ten minutes. Maybe later I'll go through and update this to make it more interesting.

Well, I've been beat.

Mom and I both love Scrabble, and once in a while we'll sit down at the dining room table for a game together. More often, however, we'll sit at our computers and play a game of Scrabble over the network using a nifty Scrabble program we got in a cereal box. Yes, you read that right. It's actually pretty cool. You can play against the computer or against other players over the network. The latter is what Mom and I usually do.

In the past, I have generally won our virtual Scrabble matchups, but Mom has been beating me an alarming percentage of the time lately. I guess I really need to buckle down in my training.

We played a game tonight and she beat me 342-280. Ouch.  It was not pretty. She used up all of her tiles in one turn, which is probably responsible for her victory. We were pretty close until she pulled that on me. I'm going to have to challenge her to a rematch! But first, I'd better go play a couple practice games!

This is something that I bet most homeschool families can relate to.

Our family lived in a two-story house in Little Rock, Arkansas, until 1996. Mom, the prototypical bibliovore, had amassed a sizable collection of books from her childhood and college years, and had bought quite a few picture books and chapter books for her three young children, so we had a lot of books. Unfortunately, we didn't really have the space to display them, so most of them sat in boxes in the attic. As we got older, Mom bought more and more books for our schooling and for our pleasure reading, so our book collection kept expanding.

By the time we moved in 1996, we had hundreds of books packed away in boxes. As it happened, the house we moved into had an unfinished third floor, so Mom asked Dad to leave space for a library when he had the area finished.

The third floor is now divided into a bedroom (mine), bathroom (mine), and two closets (both mine *blush*), plus a large library. We now have over a dozen bookshelves full of books, not to mention hundreds of PBS videos and educational magazines. All told, we have well over 2,000 books and over 3,000 total resources in our library.

Since my room is on the third floor, and I love books almost as much as Mom does, I am the family librarian - I dust the shelves, re-shelve books that are taken out, help people find books they are looking for, know where everything is, etc. I know the library like the back of my hand. I could walk through it in the dark with my eyes closed and find the general location of whatever book you are looking for. I used to know the title of pretty much every book in the library, so whenever Mom was at a book sale and wanted to know whether we had a particular book, I could almost always tell her. Of course, I wasn't always there, so she did sometimes get duplicates. At one point, we had five copies of Tom Sawyer. We've got it down to two now, but that's another story.

As the years have gone by, and the library has gotten larger, I no longer know the names of every book in the library. There's just too many. It got to be a problem when Mom was out at bookstores or something, and she didn't know whether or not she had a certain book. We began getting duplicates more and more often. Mom was getting frustrated.

Then, about five years ago, Jessica and I had a brilliant idea. Whenever we go to the small private library in town, they check our books in and out... right? And to do that, they must have a database of what books they have in their collection... right? Bingo! We needed a Library List! And, since Mom's birthday was coming up, we could make it a birthday present for her!

So, every day after our schoolwork was done, Jessica and I would go up to the library and work on the Library List. At that time, there was a computer in the library, so we created a database in Microsoft Excel with the title and author of every book in our collection, plus the location where it was shelved. It was hard work. I would sit at the computer, and Jessica would call out the titles and authors to me (usually spelling out the author's last name... writers tend to have wierd names). I would then type the information into the Excel spreadsheet. Our process went something like this: Read title... type title... read author... type author... type location... repeat x2000. When my fingers just couldn't type any longer, we would switch places.

It was hard work, but it was worth it! Mom was so surprised when we gave her the list. She now carries it with her to every book sale and bookstore she visits. But even though we're no longer getting duplicates, our collection is still getting bigger and bigger. It is the nature of libraries that they always expand, and they never shrink. We're always getting new books for our literature curriculum, for pleasure reading, for reference... I could go on and on. And of course, we never get rid of books. Periodically, our library gets so large that it just outgrows the shelves, so we just make room for more shelves, or buy taller ones to replace small ones. (As in city planning, our motto is, "if you can't build out, build up!") However, it has now gotten to the point that there is just no room in the library for any more shelves. The books just keep coming in, but the shelves don't magically expand to fit all of them.

This has become a major problem, and over the past two years, Mom has been forced to take a step I never thought she would take: she has been getting rid of books. Yes, you read that right. Every once in a while, when the quantity of books just gets too large, Mom goes up and "weeds" books. (This often happens right after a big splurge at a used curriculum sale.) She tries to get rid of the ones that we have outgrown, or are dull and boring, or are otherwise not useful to us anymore.

Well, today Mom decided to do a cull. Our library is carefully organized by topic - U.S. History, astronomy, fiction, general science, etc. Mom will usually weed two or three categories at a time (depending on the size of the category, of course). Today she did quite a few, including English, music, and miscellaneous nonfiction (which is no longer overflowing its shelf... for the first time in several years! I never thought the day would come!). I was proud of her! She was ruthless and got rid of several dozen different books that we're never going to use. "The World of the Arts." "Catching and Power Hitting." "Metodo Directo de Conversacion en Espanol" (I left out the accents on that one). I mean, c'mon. When are we ever going to use that?!?!

As we culled, we reorganized. Our fiction was on two large bookcases, occupying eight of the ten shelves. The other two were taken up by picture books and heritage books from our childhoods. The fiction was totally crammed, without space for even one more book, and was expanding more quickly than any of our other sections. We reorganized the biology and music sections and made space for the picture and heritage books on another shelf, expanding the fiction to fill all ten shelves of the two bookcases. We then moved and reorganized so many other sections that I can't remember all of them... Time, Money, Missions Reference, Men's Issues... you get the point. Our goal now is to make space for the history section, which is so full that there is no longer any room on top of the shelves to pile books. We're not quite there yet, but we're working on it. In fact, we have one full shelf free!

Dad came up just as we were finishing up and wanted to see what progress we had made. Actually, I think he was just trying to be nice (you know, rejoice with those who rejoice), but he faked it pretty well. However, to the untrained eye (i.e. Dad's) it's hard to tell that we had changed anything (although we had actually changed a whole lot). So after about five minutes of looking around and trying to find the changes on an un-guided tour (Mom was busy trying to reorganize Around the House), he gave up. He made a valiant effort to notice, though!

We're hoping to finish up our reorganization on Friday. In the meantime, I will keep myself busy with the dozens of books in my doorway waiting to be taken out of the Library List. Actually, first I'll have to figure out the best technique to jump over it to get out of my room. Hmm...

This post began as a response to Erica's comment on my last post, but after 15 minutes and a couple hundred words, I decided it merited its own entry. :)

We follow a relaxed, unschooling approach, and this year was my first year to formally study history, creative writing, or English. The curriculum I use is Sonlight, which I highly recommend. It's actually a history, creative writing, and literature course all rolled into one. Many of the writing assignments (which are plentiful) tie into the historical period that is being studied.

I'm pretty much self-taught as a writer. Mom always bemoans the fact that she never taught me anything about writing - not even basic grammar. (She had to explain to me that you don't start sentences with "But" less than two years ago. I still do it way too much.) Mom does help me edit my drafts when I'm writing papers or entries for writing competitions. She will definitely be enlisted to help me edit my book! But (see, I just did it!) generally, for shorter writing assignments, I'm on my own.

I have to say that I do NOT always feel like writing. Sometimes while I'm working on my book I'll just look at the draft on the screen and think, "I really do not want to outline Lovejoy's college years today," or "Surely there's something else I could be doing that would be more fun than writing a summary of Lovejoy's anti-Catholic prejudice." You know? Sometimes I just don't feel like it! So what do you do when you don't want to write? I'm not a homeschool parent yet (although I hope to be someday!), so I feel somewhat hesitant to offer advice on homeschooling, but I'm going to do it anyway!

If you have a child that doesn't like to write, I would suggest trying to find something that s/he is interested in and encouraging him/her to write about that. I am a strictly nonfiction writer and like to write historical research papers, but there aren't very many other kids in the world that enjoy that! My 14-year-old sister hates writing nonfiction but absolutely loves writing spiritual warfare thrillers (a la Frank Peretti). That's probably not the most useful or proper kind of writing, but at least she's writing!

My younger brother used to have terrible handwriting, so Mom would make him do a page of handwriting (roughly 50 words) per day. He could write whatever he wanted, as long as it was legible. He ended up writing a series of short stories on a character named Space Pig who explores the galaxy with his friends Solar Snake and Speedy Snake. Not classic literature, to be sure, but at least he was writing!

Josiah's stories about Space Pig eventually made it into the Roberts Family Times, a two-page, newspaper-format newsletter that I edited and sent out to friends and family when I was 10 years old. I would write up book reviews and articles for the newspaper, but what I really loved was getting into Microsoft Publisher and designing the layout. I was really writing without thinking about it. I was working on something I enjoyed (layout design), but I was also doing something I didn't enjoy quite as much (writing). It wasn't much, but at least I was writing!

So that's the first thing I'd say. If you have a kid that doesn't like to write, make this your rule of thumb: "At least they're writing!" With kids that aren't interested in writing, try to find a style of writing that suits things they are interested in. If you have a kid that loves to draw and loves reptiles, you might encourage that child to write and illustrate a book on turtles. "At least they're writing!" If they won't do that, maybe they would write a picture book, or even a comic strip. "At least they're writing!" More proper and traditional forms of writing will come eventually.

I wouldn't require much writing at least until 7th or 8th grade. Maybe the occasional book report or something, but I don't think it's good to require younger kids to write. And even with older kids, don't require too much. Even for a kid that likes writing, if you make them write five pages a day, they're going to be overwhelmed and hate writing in no time! Assign a smaller chunk - from a couple of paragraphs to a page a day (depending on the child's age, ability, and interest). And do your best to let them write about their interests. They will write more, and the quality will be better, than if you just assign them, "What I Did Over Christmas Break." You need specific assignments, yes, but try not to have too many!

One side note - I personally hate journaling, and I'm not going to make my kids do it! Yes, I know it's good to have a record of what you do and everything, but it's just not for me. Mom used to make me keep a journal, and I always used to get depressed and down on myself when I got behind. For some kids I'm sure it works well, but, like most (maybe all) things in homeschooling, it definitely doesn't work for everyone.

Well, I haven't posted in awhile. I do enjoy having a blog... when I make myself post. Whenever I start to post, I enjoy it, but it's hard to make myself start.

This spring, I wrote a research paper entitled, "'I Plant Myself Down on My Unquestionable Rights': Elijah Lovejoy's Fatal Stand for Freedom," for the National History Day competition. Allow me to explain to you a little bit about who Lovejoy was, because he is one of my heroes and, I believe, an extremely important (and extremely underestimated) figure in American history.

Elijah Lovejoy was a Presbyterian minister who lived in St. Louis in the mid-1830s. He was editor and publisher of a religious newspaper, the Observer, which he used to spread his anti-slavery views. However, after a couple of years, proslavery citizens of St. Louis destroyed his printing press, forcing him to move across the Mississippi River to Alton, Illinois. In Alton, he printed his paper for a couple of years before his press was again destroyed. He ordered a new one, only to have it dumped in the river upon arrival. He ordered yet another press, and delivered it to a warehouse under cover of darkness. The next night, when proslavery citizens found out about the press, they formed a mob and stormed the warehouse. Lovejoy was killed in the chaos. However, his death energized the abolitionist movement, and he became a martyr for the antislavery cause. In death, he won many more people to the abolitionist cause than any of his editorials would have had he lived.

I enter a paper in the History Day competition every year. Last year (my first year to participate in History Day - 9th grade) my paper on the Navajo Code Talkers placed first in the region and sixth in the state in the Senior division (9th-12th grades). This year, my paper on Lovejoy was first in the region and fourth at state.

I did extensive research on Lovejoy for my paper. I checked out dozens of books through Inter-Library Loan (both primary and secondary), consulted articles and manuscript sources, interviewed experts on Lovejoy, and examined the original issues of the Observer on microfilm. Through the course of my research, I discovered a lot of fascinating, inspiring information about Lovejoy that I could not fit in my paper (the word limit was 2,500 words). I also came to admire Lovejoy as one of my heroes, because he stood up for his beliefs, even when the price to pay for them was death.

After the state competition, I was disappointed with my finish. It seemed like a shame for my interest in Lovejoy to end this way, especially after all the research I had done on him, and I began toying with the idea of writing a book about Lovejoy.

Then, for my birthday on May 21, Mom and Dad gave me the month of June off school!!! This month was not for me to use just sitting around and hanging out with friends, though - I was to use the time to write a biography of Lovejoy! I was so excited. I am now immersed in researching and writing about Lovejoy. I have planned fourteen chapters for my book, and I have completed drafts of three. I hope to get drafts of the first seven chapters done by the end of the month. That may be too ambitious, but I'm going to try.

The book is really coming together, and I'm hoping to have it published by a homeschool curriculum company or as part of a series of biographies of great Christians (like the Heroes of the Faith series). We'll see.

Also, after I finish this book, I am toying with the idea of writing another one. My tenative title for it is "Liberty's Martyrs: The Extraordinary Lives and Deaths of Elijah Lovejoy and Nathan Hale." I would use my biography of Lovejoy as half of the book, and I would write a biography of Nathan Hale for the other half. Hale is another one of my heroes. He was a Patriot spy during the Revolutionary War, and is credited with those famous words that send chills down the spine of every patriot, "I regret that I have but one life to lose for my country." He was captured and killed by the British at the age of 21.

Well, what do you think? Would either "Liberty's Martyrs" or the as-yet-untitled biography of Lovejoy be a book that you would be interested in reading? Leave me a comment and let me know!

Last weekend, Mom and Dad went away to a cabin down in Newton County, Arkansas, for a time of planning, talking, and goal-setting. They do this every year. Usually a friend of the family, Ms. Donna, comes and stays with us for the weekend, but this time, Mom and Dad decided we were old enough to stay by ourselves. They left on Friday afternoon with instructions that Jessica be treated as if she was Mom and I be treated as if I were Dad. This authority was honored more often than not. I was pleasantly surprised. Josiah was very consistent about saying "Yes, sir," whenever I asked him to do something. I was not surprised.

The weekend went well, overall. Andrew had a nasty attitude for a while, but he got over it in time. The big event was going to church on Sunday morning. Since I have my license, I got to drive everyone to church and back (45 minutes each way), and try to keep track of everyone while we were at church, while still running the overheads during service... a tall order. I managed all right, though. It did make me feel awfully old - going to church by myself! That's a pretty big milestone.

Mom and Dad returned on Sunday afternoon. The house was still standing, the cars were intact, and all the children had survived. Their weekend went well, also. I haven't heard a lot of details, but Dad did tell me that it was very productive. As for us kids, we didn't get a lot done, but we did survive, which was the main goal in the first place.