I believe these are called "memes," and this one is going around my blog circle like a cold. After reading a few of them, I caught the bug. Here I submit my own Seven Random Facts About Me.
1. When I was five, I wished my name was Belinda. When I was eight, I wanted my name to be Samantha. When I was ten, I said my pen name (for my bestselling novels) would be Sophie. I maintained for years that I'd name a son Derrick (and call him Derry, apologies to my cousin-by-marriage) and a girl Chantilly.
2. One of my cherished childhood pastimes was catching grasshoppers to feed to my cats.
3. The only raffle I've ever won was in sixth grade, when a bunch of kids pooled some money to buy one last ticket, and scrawled my name on it before handing it in.
4. In middle school, I had a crush on a guy named Dale. Every day I'd write in my diary what he wore. It was a sad day for diary material when he went on to high school.
5. I've been christened, baptized twice, and confirmed.
6. On the morning of my wedding, I ate crackers and mustard and cheese for breakfast. It was one of my favorite snacks (I haven't eaten it in recent times), but the major reason why I had it that morning was because my health-conscious friend, Jenna, insisted on making me something to eat. I hate breakfast and I certainly didn't want any that morning, so I chose something I thought she'd refuse to make. Demonstrating her love for me, she did anyway, so I ate it.
7. I don't make up my bed. I was once grounded for three days for forgetting to make my bed (my stepfather tended to confuse carelessness with rebellion), so I consider it a perk of adulthood that I don't have to worry about it now. Unfortunate for Darren, who likes a neat bed, but he's tolerant.
-- SJ
Monday, May 28, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
What Was Your Pre-Nup?
Darren came across a blog comment that said that "the closest thing my husband and I had to a pre-nuptial agreement was that I Don't Iron."
After reflection, I've decided that outstanding items in the Jones Sydnicate Pre-Nuptial Agreement are:
He: We will be on time to whatever event we are attending, including weddings, church services, airports, and random kids' community activities. If we are not on time, we are early.
She: We will not criticize the cooking, neither the choice of food nor the way it is prepared. Although opinions and constructive criticism are allowed, greeting a meal with "What IS this?!" is punishable by death.
What were your pre-nuptial conditions?
-- SJ
After reflection, I've decided that outstanding items in the Jones Sydnicate Pre-Nuptial Agreement are:
He: We will be on time to whatever event we are attending, including weddings, church services, airports, and random kids' community activities. If we are not on time, we are early.
She: We will not criticize the cooking, neither the choice of food nor the way it is prepared. Although opinions and constructive criticism are allowed, greeting a meal with "What IS this?!" is punishable by death.
What were your pre-nuptial conditions?
-- SJ
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Undecorous
I'm not such a great hand at used-book sales. Possibly it's because I don't read much fiction, or because I'm not patient enough to sift through piles of junk to find gems, or because I don't keep a mental bank of "authors I always like." (At least, not the recently-alive ones.) Darren can browse for an hour and round up twenty books. I browse for an hour and manage to scrounge up five, one of which Darren finds for me. Then I come home and throw out three of them.
Occasionally I hit on a good one, though. One of my best finds, a year or so ago, was The Doubleday Book of Interior Decorating. I don't really like decorating, but I do like reading about it. Still, a book on interior decorating probably wouldn't have survived the initial at-home purge, except that this one was published in 1965.
Imagine all the decorating distinctives of that era: the colors, the furniture, the "modern-art" wall-hanging. Yes, it's all in this book. I read it like other people read Stephen King: thrilled by the horror. It's written in a formal, patronizing tone, with absolutely no inkling that later generations would find the advice, sample rooms, and discussion hideous.
For example, here the author is instructing the unwashed masses in choosing colors for a living room:
"To start, paint your walls, ceiling, and woodwork pale lime-green. Or paper the walls with greenish-gold grass cloth. Grapefruit-yellow draperies will look well against either. Cover the floor with dark brown, earth-colored carpet. Upholster the two armchairs in lemon-colored damask. On a lime-green sofa, shower cushions ranging from gold to tangerine...."
Or a bedroom:
"The walls, ceiling, and woodwork are pale yellow. The floor is completely covered with a tobacco-brown carpet. The draperies and bedspread are a flowered print based on the marigold colors: yellow-gold, orange, and brown, with touches of pale green. An armchair is upholstered in persimmon leather. Two benches are covered in tobacco-brown corduroy. The furniture is bleached ash."
Fortunately there aren't pictures to accompany every description; the pictures which are included are quite enough. Why do I read this book? Because I like "recent history." Because I'm fascinated by what bygone eras thought was beautiful. And because, after seeing the room with brown paisley covering the wall and sofa so that it all blended together in one uniform nightmare of paisley, I don't feel so bad about my own house.
-- SJ
Occasionally I hit on a good one, though. One of my best finds, a year or so ago, was The Doubleday Book of Interior Decorating. I don't really like decorating, but I do like reading about it. Still, a book on interior decorating probably wouldn't have survived the initial at-home purge, except that this one was published in 1965.
Imagine all the decorating distinctives of that era: the colors, the furniture, the "modern-art" wall-hanging. Yes, it's all in this book. I read it like other people read Stephen King: thrilled by the horror. It's written in a formal, patronizing tone, with absolutely no inkling that later generations would find the advice, sample rooms, and discussion hideous.
For example, here the author is instructing the unwashed masses in choosing colors for a living room:
"To start, paint your walls, ceiling, and woodwork pale lime-green. Or paper the walls with greenish-gold grass cloth. Grapefruit-yellow draperies will look well against either. Cover the floor with dark brown, earth-colored carpet. Upholster the two armchairs in lemon-colored damask. On a lime-green sofa, shower cushions ranging from gold to tangerine...."
Or a bedroom:
"The walls, ceiling, and woodwork are pale yellow. The floor is completely covered with a tobacco-brown carpet. The draperies and bedspread are a flowered print based on the marigold colors: yellow-gold, orange, and brown, with touches of pale green. An armchair is upholstered in persimmon leather. Two benches are covered in tobacco-brown corduroy. The furniture is bleached ash."
Fortunately there aren't pictures to accompany every description; the pictures which are included are quite enough. Why do I read this book? Because I like "recent history." Because I'm fascinated by what bygone eras thought was beautiful. And because, after seeing the room with brown paisley covering the wall and sofa so that it all blended together in one uniform nightmare of paisley, I don't feel so bad about my own house.
-- SJ
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Recent Worsts
Country song:
"Me and God," featuring (heretical) lyrics including, "We're like two peas in a pod, me and God."
Quote from Better Homes and Gardens:
"I like mixing furniture from different times and countries. It creates a dynamic dialogue that I find young and interesting."
Political Flyer:
Candidate's four young children ostensibly informing the public about why they're proud of their mom for standing for things like, "Cracking down on illegal immigration" and "Solving traffic problems." That's what they exclaim when they see their mom each evening: "Mommy! Did you solve any more traffic problems today?!"
Leap of Logic, from a letter to the editor of Family Fun magazine:
"I'm pretty sure I can pinpoint one reason that 40 percent of fathers never cook dinner [in reference to a poll in a previous issue]. When was the last time you saw a commercial in which Dad was calling Mom and the kids to dinner? If pressure isn't put on advertisers to change that picture (at the very least, to reflect the dads to DO cook dinner, such as my husband), this is never going to change." Methinks this great thinker needs to spend more time reading books, and less watching, um, the Discovery Channel.
-- SJ
"Me and God," featuring (heretical) lyrics including, "We're like two peas in a pod, me and God."
Quote from Better Homes and Gardens:
"I like mixing furniture from different times and countries. It creates a dynamic dialogue that I find young and interesting."
Political Flyer:
Candidate's four young children ostensibly informing the public about why they're proud of their mom for standing for things like, "Cracking down on illegal immigration" and "Solving traffic problems." That's what they exclaim when they see their mom each evening: "Mommy! Did you solve any more traffic problems today?!"
Leap of Logic, from a letter to the editor of Family Fun magazine:
"I'm pretty sure I can pinpoint one reason that 40 percent of fathers never cook dinner [in reference to a poll in a previous issue]. When was the last time you saw a commercial in which Dad was calling Mom and the kids to dinner? If pressure isn't put on advertisers to change that picture (at the very least, to reflect the dads to DO cook dinner, such as my husband), this is never going to change." Methinks this great thinker needs to spend more time reading books, and less watching, um, the Discovery Channel.
-- SJ
Monday, May 14, 2007
Happy Mother's Day to Me
My Mother's Day was part of a long week, in which kids were sick, and a long weekend, during which Darren was either gone or busy for much of it. We don't make a big deal of the day anyway, but as I was cleaning the bathroom at 9:00 p.m. because that was the first chance I'd had to do it, I was a little put out. Some Mother's Day. Because Darren is a deacon and music leader, I as usual spent the whole morning at church taking care of the kids myself. At home I hardly had time to get anything done because my chiuldren were in the way, and I hadn't had any alone-time with Darren because children were always present.
And then I had enough presence of mind to laugh at myself.
In an email that made me feel warm and fuzzy and made me laugh, Lindsay wished me and our other sister-in-law, Jill, a happy Mother's Day. She added that she's watched us "acclimate to motherhood." A very good way to put it, because understanding and appreciating my calling as a mother was not an instant, just-add-baby experience.
However, another mother in our neighborhood was having more than a disappointing Mother's Day: hers was agonizing. Not even a week ago, her ten-year-old son died suddenly in an accident. What would she give, I wondered, to have to find her son's shoes for the hundredth time, or have to repeat herself because he wasn't listening to her, or to have to quell him with stern looks because his "baby minotaur" was singing in church? There's a worse alternative than having to be on mother duty all the time.
Looking back over yesterday, it ended a tiring, but happy day. I'm glad to say that it was full of children, which is the best way to celebrate Mother's Day.
-- SJ
P.S. In honor of Mother's Day, I asked the kids a couple of questions:
Q: What makes Mama smile?
AMJ: Clean the house
SMJ: Kiss her
Q: What do you like about Mama?
SMJ: You play the computer with us. (Stuart is a serious computer-game freak.)
Q: What is a mother?
AMJ: It is a girl who is grown up and ready to take care of kids.
(God doesn't always wait until all qualifications are met before throwing said "grown-up girl" into the field, however.)
And then I had enough presence of mind to laugh at myself.
In an email that made me feel warm and fuzzy and made me laugh, Lindsay wished me and our other sister-in-law, Jill, a happy Mother's Day. She added that she's watched us "acclimate to motherhood." A very good way to put it, because understanding and appreciating my calling as a mother was not an instant, just-add-baby experience.
However, another mother in our neighborhood was having more than a disappointing Mother's Day: hers was agonizing. Not even a week ago, her ten-year-old son died suddenly in an accident. What would she give, I wondered, to have to find her son's shoes for the hundredth time, or have to repeat herself because he wasn't listening to her, or to have to quell him with stern looks because his "baby minotaur" was singing in church? There's a worse alternative than having to be on mother duty all the time.
Looking back over yesterday, it ended a tiring, but happy day. I'm glad to say that it was full of children, which is the best way to celebrate Mother's Day.
-- SJ
P.S. In honor of Mother's Day, I asked the kids a couple of questions:
Q: What makes Mama smile?
AMJ: Clean the house
SMJ: Kiss her
Q: What do you like about Mama?
SMJ: You play the computer with us. (Stuart is a serious computer-game freak.)
Q: What is a mother?
AMJ: It is a girl who is grown up and ready to take care of kids.
(God doesn't always wait until all qualifications are met before throwing said "grown-up girl" into the field, however.)
Saturday, May 05, 2007
T.V. and Steve Green
I don't watch T.V. This pretty straightforward statement has the ability to stop a conversation dead. I've been saying it for years now, and am familiar with the response. After a moment's pause, the other person would say,
"Yeah, well, I just watch it to wind down. I really like the Discovery Channel."
I noticed this reply several years ago. I'd never actually seen anything on the Discovery Channel, but evidently I was the only person in the nation who didn't watch it. As far as I could gather, everybody else was glued to it all the time. That was the entire reason cable existed, was the Discovery Channel. It got to the point that if anyone even mentioned the Discovery Channel in casual conversation, I wanted to laugh out loud. Probably I could have, because anyone who doesn't watch T.V. has to be a little off-kilter anyway.
I don't listen to Christian Contemporary Music. I found myself saying that, also, surprisingly often. I'd grown up listening to secular music so didn't like the Christian imitations; and then I went through the Holy Years when all music, except classical and percussion-free sacred, was evil. Quickly, the other person would reassure me,
"Oh, I don't listen to the really rocky stuff. Just Steve Green and music like that."
Yes, everybody who listened to CCM listened to Steve Green. That was the entire reason CCM existed, was Steve Green. By the time I was an adult, I'd developed a marked disliked to Steve Green, whose music I'd never even heard. Probably Steve Green had his own show on the Discovery Channel.
One day when Stuart was a baby, Darren came home with a few CDs. I looked over them. Not only were they certified CCM ("I don't listen to CCM!"), but one of them was "Woven in Time" by, yes, Steve Green. Oh, all right, I could be a good wife and let him listen to his silly music. At least he wasn't agitating to get television. I remember putting on the Green CD and listening to it as I unloaded the dishwasher. After the second time through, I reluctantly admitted... I liked it. Drat it all.
I never saw the Discovery Channel so I can still dislike that. Most people nowadays don't care all that much for the Discovery Channel anymore, anyway. Now it's the Food Channel. Everybody watches the Food Channel. Oh, yeah, sometimes they'll catch a reality show or sultry drama while flipping channels, but as far as I can gather it's just accident because they really just like to watch the Food Channel.
I still don't watch T.V., but yes, I do listen to CCM. None of that really rocky kind, though. Just the softer stuff. Like Steve Green.
-- SJ
"Yeah, well, I just watch it to wind down. I really like the Discovery Channel."
I noticed this reply several years ago. I'd never actually seen anything on the Discovery Channel, but evidently I was the only person in the nation who didn't watch it. As far as I could gather, everybody else was glued to it all the time. That was the entire reason cable existed, was the Discovery Channel. It got to the point that if anyone even mentioned the Discovery Channel in casual conversation, I wanted to laugh out loud. Probably I could have, because anyone who doesn't watch T.V. has to be a little off-kilter anyway.
I don't listen to Christian Contemporary Music. I found myself saying that, also, surprisingly often. I'd grown up listening to secular music so didn't like the Christian imitations; and then I went through the Holy Years when all music, except classical and percussion-free sacred, was evil. Quickly, the other person would reassure me,
"Oh, I don't listen to the really rocky stuff. Just Steve Green and music like that."
Yes, everybody who listened to CCM listened to Steve Green. That was the entire reason CCM existed, was Steve Green. By the time I was an adult, I'd developed a marked disliked to Steve Green, whose music I'd never even heard. Probably Steve Green had his own show on the Discovery Channel.
One day when Stuart was a baby, Darren came home with a few CDs. I looked over them. Not only were they certified CCM ("I don't listen to CCM!"), but one of them was "Woven in Time" by, yes, Steve Green. Oh, all right, I could be a good wife and let him listen to his silly music. At least he wasn't agitating to get television. I remember putting on the Green CD and listening to it as I unloaded the dishwasher. After the second time through, I reluctantly admitted... I liked it. Drat it all.
I never saw the Discovery Channel so I can still dislike that. Most people nowadays don't care all that much for the Discovery Channel anymore, anyway. Now it's the Food Channel. Everybody watches the Food Channel. Oh, yeah, sometimes they'll catch a reality show or sultry drama while flipping channels, but as far as I can gather it's just accident because they really just like to watch the Food Channel.
I still don't watch T.V., but yes, I do listen to CCM. None of that really rocky kind, though. Just the softer stuff. Like Steve Green.
-- SJ
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Overheard at Home
Theology According to Addie:
"Jesus is good for our health!"
Dinner-table Conversation is Overrated:
Darren mentioned something about renting an economy car from Enterprise.
The Randomizer (surfacing from a book): "What dump truck got stolen?"
The Verifier (who never thinks his sister's remarks are unusual): "Daddy, did you talk about stealing a dump truck?"
Darren, baffled: "I didn't say anything about stealing or a dump truck!"
The Verifier: "Addie, Daddy didn't steal a dump truck."
Car-Spotters:
Having watched a "Herbie" movie recently, Stuart's all into Volkswagen Beetles. He calls them Bugs, but doesn't specify what he means when he says, "Look, there's a bug!" Conversations usually go like this:
S: "Hey! I see a Bug!"
A: "What kind of bug?"
S: "A blue Bug."
A: "Is it a wasp?"
When Nana visited recently, she rented a car to go back to the airport. She got, of all things, a PT Cruiser. Stuart was pretty impressed. Both kids now spot Cruisers, giving rise to the following exchange:
A: "There's a Crucifix!"
S: "No, it's a TP Cruiser!"
-- SJ
"Jesus is good for our health!"
Dinner-table Conversation is Overrated:
Darren mentioned something about renting an economy car from Enterprise.
The Randomizer (surfacing from a book): "What dump truck got stolen?"
The Verifier (who never thinks his sister's remarks are unusual): "Daddy, did you talk about stealing a dump truck?"
Darren, baffled: "I didn't say anything about stealing or a dump truck!"
The Verifier: "Addie, Daddy didn't steal a dump truck."
Car-Spotters:
Having watched a "Herbie" movie recently, Stuart's all into Volkswagen Beetles. He calls them Bugs, but doesn't specify what he means when he says, "Look, there's a bug!" Conversations usually go like this:
S: "Hey! I see a Bug!"
A: "What kind of bug?"
S: "A blue Bug."
A: "Is it a wasp?"
When Nana visited recently, she rented a car to go back to the airport. She got, of all things, a PT Cruiser. Stuart was pretty impressed. Both kids now spot Cruisers, giving rise to the following exchange:
A: "There's a Crucifix!"
S: "No, it's a TP Cruiser!"
-- SJ
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