Quote of the Day

Tonight we visited a local park, which at this time of year is decked out with thousands of lights and displays. We wandered through the bright and dark night, chilly and charmed. Then we were passed up by two teenage guys. One of whom said,

"Dude, there are too many freakin' light things here!"

On their way back past us:

"I wish I was Jesus in here."

"Dude, why Jesus?"

"Because then I could make it WARM!"

Dude, you are SO going on my blog.

-- SJ

The Proper Education and Correction of Husbands

My sharp-eyed mother-in-law caught this authentic moment that shows the real story of my and Darren's marriage. Note Darren hanging his head sheepishly as Sara confesses his sins to him.



Actually, we were discussing plans and Darren was listening to my suggestions. But that's not as funny.

Christmas Eve Sermon

Merry Christmas, everyone!

This is the sermon I preached last night at our church's Christmas Eve service. I was happy with how it turned out.

The readings were Isaiah 52:7-10, Psalm 98, Hebrews 1:1-12, and John 1:1-14.

Today, God has done a new thing.

In the past, He revealed Himself to a select group of chosen people. He revealed Himself through prophets, who brought His word to unlistening and hostile men. To a lucky few, He sent his messengers, flames of fire, the burning seraphim and quick-winged archangels. He accepted the mediation of priests, all descendants of one weak and wavering man. He set up a line of kings to reveal His glorious majesty, and with few exceptions, those kings revealed instead the frailty of unredeemed mankind.

Because we live in a fallen world. A world that is wracked by war. An earth that is deeply entrenched in sin. A culture that despises life, while at the same time clutches desperately to faded youth.

And this world cries out for good news. We long to hear the shout of the watchman, the messengers who tell of hope and the coming restoration of all things.

Today, God has done a new thing.

God lies in a manger, in a dirty cave used as a stable, in an obscure little town in a hicktown province of the Roman Empire.

This little baby, only minutes old, set all Time into place. No longer is the revelation of God confined to one lone race. All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

This infant is The Prophet. Not only does He bring the word of God to man, but He is the Word. The eternal Word. The Divine Word. The Word spoken at the beginning of creation, through which all things were made, now cries with tiny lungs.

Today, God has done a new thing.

This baby is The Priest. Before, the priests of the line of Aaron were men – fallible and frail, yet mediators between God and man, standing as a thin and imperfect bulwark between sinners and the loving might of a holy God. Now, God Himself is the mediator. Perfect man, immortal God, offering Himself as the one sacrifice sufficient to purge us from our sins – and not ours only, but the sins of the whole world.

This baby is The King. Born of David’s line, He who is David’s Lord now rules the universe from his straw-lined bed. The representation of the majesty of God no longer is limited to human potentates, because He who contains the brightness of the glory of God and is the express image of God, Who upholds all things by the word of His power, is now among us.

Today, God has done a new thing.

The Virgin has been with child and has been delivered of a boy. Our elder brothers, the angels, now bow to worship Him who first set them alight with the fire of His presence. The creatures committed to our care, who have served so long with so little thanks, are among the first to lay eyes upon the Creator, as ox, ass, and sheep surround His cradle.

Today, God has done a new thing.

The judge of the world has now become its advocate. He who by right could cast the first stone, instead reaches out to us with hands of forgiveness and grace. He who is the sinned-against of every one of our petty meannesses, rather than responding in kind, has become our redeemer.

Because the wood of the manger trough that holds a baby is the wood that will hold a dying man 33 years later. The hands that now clench into tiny fists will one day clench around cruel iron spikes. The infant Yeshua bar-Joseph will be rejected in favor of a murderer Joseph Barabbas. And all for love of a world that refuses to receive Him.

Today, God is doing a new thing.

He has made a way for us to become as little children, to become sons and daughters of the heavenly King. We can be born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

This is the message of Christmas. Because of the baby in a manger, we can be washed as clean as a newborn baby, to be accepted as an innocent and holy child of God. On this Christmas, as we kneel at the altar to receive in our mouths the Incarnate Word, let us remember that we have come together in the presence of Almighty God our heavenly Father, to render thanks for the great benefits that we have received at his hands, to set forth his most worthy praise, to hear His holy Word, and to ask, for ourselves and on behalf of others, those things that are necessary for our life and our salvation. And so that we may prepare ourselves in heart and mind to worship him, let us kneel in silence, and with penitent and obedient hearts confess our sins, that we may obtain forgiveness by his infinite goodness and mercy.

Today, God can do a new thing in your life, if you but ask.

He will forgive you, He will pardon you, and He will give you the power to become a child of God, living a godly, righteous, and sober life, to the glory of His holy Name.

And so, on the Eve of this great Feast of the Incarnation, the night we celebrate new birth, let this Holy Communion be for you a new start. And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all evermore. Merry Christmas!

Love, Sara

Dear anonymous blogger,

I completely stole your idea for this post.

Love, Sara.

***

Dear Dreams,

If you're going to give a motorcycle at night, can you provide one that goes faster than 15 mph? Also, can you find one that doesn't require me to pedal to get it started?

Love, Sara.

***

Dear House Fairies,

You're doing a fantastic job with the house this week. The school desk, the hutch, and the playroom are amazing. Why do you keep my house clean only when my mother or mother-in-law is visiting, but never when it's just me? I don't understand.

Love, Sara.

***

Dear Christmas Card Senders,

We've run out of room to put up Christmas cards. We got seven yesterday and I don't have anywhere to hang them. That makes me very happy. Thank you.

Love, Sara.

***

Dear Dreams,

If you're going to create a scenerio in which one of my best friends makes a dish called "Deja Vu Stew," which features snake meat, could you at least make her NOT LIKE the snake meat?

Love, Sara.

***

Dear Puddles,

When you jump into my bed in the morning and settle down on my tummy and purr, it makes me want to feed you extra food. Good kitty.

Love, Sara.

***

Dear Addie,

Good job, introducing your grandma to the handyman! Note: it is not necessary to add details such as, "She doesn't have a man with her because she's a widow."

Love, Mama.

***

Dear Shadowy Personally-Unknown Homeschool-Hating Public School Officials:

My six-year-old admitted to breaking something of mine by saying, "Mea culpa," translating it for me as "my fault," which he got from a book. Which I think is not so bad for a six-year-old even if he does take only an hour to do his entire school every day, which we're not even doing this week. So there.

Sincerely, Sara.

***

Dear Stuart,

When you step on my display of honeymoon souvenirs and almost break it, the best thing to do is look very penitent and say something like, "Mea culpa," because then it's hard for me to be mad.

Love, Mama.

***

Dear y'all,

Christmas is coming! Yay!

-- SJ

Excerpts

So what is a "Tale from the Creekbank," anyway? I started writing them so I could catch Darren as my husband. It worked brilliantly!!

Okay. How about we start over here? While I was away putting the children to bed with sweet bedtime stories of my childhood, Darren co-opted my blog post.

What I was GOING to say was that I started writing them so I could record family stories. The thing is, with families, the stories don't stop happening. The Creekbanks turned into a mixture of memoir and current events of family adventures, life in a small town, and crowd-pleasing discussions of why the South is such a great place to live. All of the stories are true and most of them are decidedly wacky.

(I was already writing them by the time I started sending them to Darren, but it's true that the stories certainly didn't hurt my chances with him.)

Following are two excerpts: the first is one of Darren's favorite stories, the second one of my favorites.

The Brief Career of
Dressy Bessie

My sister Rosemary is forever bringing home new – or nearly new – bargains that we don’t realize we need until she brings them home. One of her most entertaining purchases was something she and Mom came across in a Goodwill store: an adjustable dress-form to use for sizing and sewing.

They hauled it home. Rosemary immediately picked up work on the dress she’d begun five months before. She set the dress-form up on a chair and slipped the dress over it. The dress-form looked so eerily lifelike – in a legless, armless sort of way – that we decided to name it. It was christened Dressy Bessie.

Dressy Bessie worked hard as a model. Her only problem was that her center supporting rod tended to give way now and then, dropping her height several inches without warning. Generally, though, she served her purpose well.

Then she became discontented with her domestic life. She decided to embark on a stage career.

Her first appearance was simple, but effective. I walked into the family room one day to find a headless, armless figure sitting at the computer. I jumped visibly. The debut was a success.

It is against human nature, especially if the human is a Roberts, to allow anyone to be more clever than you. One morning a few days later, Rosemary stepped out of her room and shrieked. Somehow Bessie had found her way upstairs and was waiting just outside Rosemary’s door. I said that Bessie was just being sociable. She’d even put on a long-sleeved shirt to give the appearance of arms.

After that, Bessie’s career skyrocketed. She was booked for appearances in every room in the house. ...

***

From Sadie Rides Again! (Sort Of)

[My yellow Mercedes, Sadie] was in good spirits as I drove her around town the next week. The speedometer still didn’t work, but I did replace the fuse for the fuel gauge. It was satisfying to watch the needle rise slowly and stop at the Full mark (“4/4” on my gauge). I’d made sure I’d filled her tank as soon as I went over town the first morning after her recover. I learned my lesson last time: I wasn’t going to be caught helpless and stranded once again.

I would like to take this opportunity to say that just because I was sitting on the curb at the library two days later, waiting for someone to change the flat tire on my yellow car, I was not helpless and stranded. I was perfectly capable of walking over to the nearby service station for help. And as for being stranded, I could have called home for a ride, or even flagged down Tammy McLendon twice if I’d wanted to.

The flat tire was first introduced to me by my friend Jairus, whom I encountered in the library. He informed me pleasantly that the right front tire on my car was flat. I went out and examined it, and then I called home.

"Mom, Sadie’s tire is pretty flat. Do you think I ought to drive over to the station?"

Mom asked, "How flat is 'pretty flat'?"

"Well, it’s not as flat as it could be, I suppose, but it’s certainly flat."

That was the sort of answer that would have put my stepfather in a bad mood. Mom wasn’t very impressed either. "I don’t think you should drive on it. You’ll ruin the wheel. Just walk over to the station and ask them if they can change it."

So I did. I didn’t seem to make much headway at first.

"You’re asking the wrong person," said the helpful mechanic. "You need to ask some good-looking, single guy to change your tire."

I pointed out the flaw in his otherwise sound scheme, namely that good-looking, single guys were scarce in the library parking lot that day. After several more suggestions along the same lines, Mr. Will finally agreed to change the tire.

Now, changing a tire is a simple enough operation. I could do it myself, if I had the equipment and absolutely no way to get someone else to do it for me. But experience has taught me that nothing involving Sadie is as simple as it ought to be.

"Do you have a spare tire?" he asked.

"No, sir, I don’t think so."

"Do you have a jack and a lugwrench?"

"Well. . .I don’t think so. I mean, there might be one in the trunk, but I don’t know for sure."

"Why didn’t you look in the trunk?"

"The trunk won’t open. It’s jammed."

I climbed into the truck while he loaded the lugwrench and the jack, and we drove over to the library, where Sadie waited patiently as she leaned rather heavily on her right front tire.

Then began the process of changing the tire, an episode fraught with uncertainty.

The lugwrench didn’t fit the lugnuts on Sadie’s tire. We thought that maybe the right-sized wrench would be in Sadie’s trunk. And, indeed, one may be. There may be a body in that trunk for all I know. We certainly couldn’t get it open to see. ...

***

The rest of the story... and more! now printed, bound, and ready to be sent out! Email me.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes

1. Last night I had at least three ideas to include in a Quick Takes post, which is why I decided to do it this morning. This morning I've forgotten everything I was going to include last night. Just know that the items were interesting, thought-provoking, and amusing.

2. Stuart, looking over the Christmas presents underneath the tree: "If one of the presents isn't on the rug under the tree, then we can open those, right?"

3. We went "Christmas Riding" last night, driving around looking at lights. There seem to be more decorations this year than in past years. Our neighborhood alone looks very festive. Our own personal yard looks... well, we got SOMETHING up, anyway.

4. We love getting Christmas cards. We hang them up around the doorway between the living room and dining room. Checking the mail is the best thing during Christmas.

5. I was reading an article recently that encouraged neat households (this was in Keepers At Home). I agreed with the gist of the article: keeping the house neat is important to household harmony. What I did not agree with was how the author, in her zeal to find Biblical support for her idea (because all good ideas have specific Biblical support, you know), used verses like, "Let all things be done decently and in order." That verse refers to church services, not housework. And then there was "Her husband may safely trust in her," from Proverbs 31, which the author applied to mean that he can find what he needs because he knows she'll put it back where it goes. That one made me shriek out loud. I grew up with lots of Biblical "interpretation" like this, and I hate it. Darren hates it when I read articles like this.

6. My mom arrives tomorrow for a two-week visit. We are excited.

7. I got a book-on-CD from the library for the kids. It's a two-disk collection of an Encyclopedia Brown book. Addie listened to it about six times yesterday, and I hung around every now and then to catch the stories. I never get tired of them. You did grow up reading Encyclopedia Brown, right? If not, then it's pretty much your duty as a parent to introduce them to your children. Encyclopedia solves crimes by listening and questioning, something all children need to know because as the Bible says, "The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him."

More at Conversion Diary.
-- SJ

A Little Story

This excerpt is from my and Darren's early-email files. For background, there are annual homeschool conferences in most states during the spring, and HSLDA always sends people to run a table in the curriculum hall. After he met me, Darren always volunteered for the Mississippi conference -- there was, after all, a good chance that I'd be there. Did I make this connection? No. Did my mother? Yes.

In 1999, about six months before Darren wrote to ask to court me, I was at the Mississippi conference helping with the children's program. It was run that year by the Dentons, an a capella quartet and comedy act who were then at the peak of their ATI superstardom.

Darren was less than entranced:

***
I will close with a little story [he wrote].

When I went down to Mississippi for the last conference, I really didn't care how many books I sold or what kind of advice I gave to people. In my mind, there was only one reason for going down, and that was To See Sara. I got there the day before the conference and set up (the job of only a few minutes, as I was rather in a hurry). I then asked directions to the children's part of the conference, intimating that I would mosey over there to see if any of my friends were there. I was kindly directed to the correct building. When I entered (nervously, lest I should actually bump into you), I came in and was greeted by the sight of the backs of heads, all facing toward a Denton, who was giving instructions.

Not having much experience with Dentons in full cry, I took a seat in back and determined to wait until he was finished. Searching the assembled heads to find the one I was looking for was not difficult, and I kept on hoping you would turn around (which never happened). I waited for the Denton to finish, thinking I could wander innocently up to the second row and say hello. By the time 15 minutes had gone by, I was waiting for him to merely pause. When a half hour had passed, I was hoping for him to take a breath. After 45 minutes, I had abandoned all hope of getting to visit with you that day and scuttled off back to my sales table.

All of which is why, when you and Rosemary came by later during the conference, I was Very Glad to see you.

***

-- DJ (and SJ)

What We Think -- "Thirteen Orphans"

Darren brought home Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold, saying that it looked interesting. Now, you have to understand that what Darren brings home as "looking interesting" includes books like this and this. So I don't exactly tackle him at the door to see his latest choice.

But this one really did look interesting. The premise is that there are twelve people in our world who have inherited special abilities from their ancestors in a separate world. The abilities correspond to the twelve Chinese zodiacal symbols. The thirteenth "orphan" is the descendant of the emperor whom they were charged to protect. By this time many of the orphans don't even realize who they are, and it wouldn't really matter... except that someone, somehow, is going to each one and stealing his or her memories and abilities.

The story isn't predictable, but it doesn't try too hard to twist itself into something exciting. The magic and Chinese folklore are interesting enough: the author wisely avoids any comic-book banter and action. What I mostly enjoyed about the book is the author's treatment of her characters: they're so REASONABLE. If they're thrown into the middle of a puzzling and alarming situation, and have hundreds of questions that can't be answered immediately, they -- get this -- wait patiently until there's time to talk. If one is assigned to lead a spell and the other support, the supporter might feel envious for a moment, but then realize that she can live with the arrangement. They don't snipe and sulk and fight, instead focusing on the danger and how to deal with it. You find yourself enjoying their company, instead of wishing that you and the author could go take a walk and leave the characters to themselves for while.

The only drawback to this otherwise excellent read is that it's -- darn it! -- the first of a series. Furthermore, the second book isn't published yet. Seeing how I hate getting caught up in a series, I can hope that the next book Darren comes home with will be something like this.

-- SJ

Creekbank Stories - NOW AVAILABLE

I've just come home with a box full of Tales from the Creekbank, Vol. II. (Vol. I will be printed and bound next week.) Most of the copies are going South... not figuratively, we hope... to be sold in my family's restaurant. But if you want a booklet, either leave a comment or email me and I'll put back a copy for you.

For those who didn't follow my Creekbanks back when, these are stories I wrote for my local newspaper several years ago. They're mostly about my family, my car, and my hometown. The collection includes our courtship story (part one, part two, and part three) and my pea-picking story.

The booklets are $7.00 each or $12.00 for both. Quantities are, of course, limited!

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes Friday

1. Daphne: "It's cold out there!"
Me: "Yes, it is."
Daphne: "I was talking to Puddles!"
Me: "Oh."
Daphne: "You said, 'Oh.' You said, 'Oh,' Mama? You said 'Oh.'"
Me: "YES!"
Daphne: "Please stop it saying YES!"
Conversations with Daphne are articulate but monotonous.

2. Tonight is the HSLDA Christmas party, and I get to attend for the first time in three or four years. I bought my dress two and a half months ago, before the advent of Baby. It's a cute black-and-white polka dotted knee-length high-waisted thing (the dress, not Baby). For the past three weeks I've been trying it on periodically to make sure I still fit in it. I do, but I sure do fill it out.

3. Stuart doesn't like doing school. It's boring and he hates it, he says. So when I announce, "School in ten minutes!" Stuart puts on his Defiance Hat. He marches to the school desk, grabs his math book, and does three pages before it's even time to start. So there.

4. We're putting up our Christmas tree tomorrow. Well, Darren and the kids will put it up and decorate it: I'll make cheese straws. My grandma made them every year. She died seven years ago, so now it's special to take out the recipe in her handwriting and make her cheese straws.

5. Last night, Darren and I read through our early-courtship emails together. It's the only time I've ever gotten multiple-page emails from him. At the time we were writing the emails, Darren and I weren't telling many people about our situation. We didn't want the word getting out that Sara and Darren Are Courting! only to have to go back and say that Actually We Decided Not To. Hence the following conversation with my sisters:

Rosemary: "You need to tell Jenna that Darren is coming to visit." [My friend Jenna worked with Darren, and Rosemary was buying a violin from her.]

Sara: "I don't want to tell Jenna yet." [Partly on principle, and partly because I knew Jenna was going to say, 'I TOLD you he was interested in you!']

Rosemary: "I really think you need to tell her. Because then she can give her violin to Darren, and he can bring it down with him. It would save on shipping and besides, it's great timing. Darren's first visit, he wants to make a good impression -- it would look really good if he brought the violin for me."

Lauren: "I think Darren should bring gifts for the whole family."

Sara: "I don't want to tell many people. I don't want the word to get out yet."

Lauren: "Just tell Jenna that if you can trace the news back to her, Rose won't send money for the violin."

I think, in the end, I did tell Jenna and Darren did bring the violin down, and Jenna did say "I TOLD you so!" She also kept the secret.

6. Do you know what's worse than hearing the same kids' Christmas album over and over? Hearing it over and over in two places at once: on the computer in the living room, and the actual CD in Addie's room. PLUS, Addie's CD was one stanza behind the computer.

7. I'm not very good at "quick" takes.

More at Conversion Diary.

-- SJ

Science in Small Doses

(And then there was the grey, rainy day when the only thing interesting to do was write new blog posts.)

I pulled this book off the library shelf a few weeks ago. (It's overdue now, of course.) I left it for Addie to read, and only just now picked it up myself. It's turned out to be an amusing way to pass a rainy afternoon, in between blog posting.

Marvels of Science: 50 Fascinating 5-Minute Reads by Kendall Haven is a collection of stories explaining how many inventions and discoveries came about. The author takes poetic license with the characters, attributing dialogue, personality, and even the occasional "sparkling blue eyes" to spice up the stories. But he does a good job of explaining why the discoveries were important. The book includes many of the classic inventions and discoveries: radium, X-rays, telegraph, Vulcanized rubber, Silly Putty, and Post-It Notes.

It's a fun read, and also confirms what I found out when I read Physics of Superheroes: I don't think like a scientist. In the Marvels book, a "point to ponder" is, "Why does milk go sour if you leave it out?" The answer has something to do with microbes. My automatic answer was, "Because that's what it does." I'm not a scientist, but I like reading about them.

-- SJ

Jello

Why soft-set strawberry jello is better than hard-set strawberry jello

inspired by Addie and Stuart

1. Because you don't have to wait as long to eat it.

2. Um, you need another reason?

-- SJ

Don't Play It Again, Sam. It's Nauseous.

I'm not badly plagued by morning sickness. I spend a few weeks feeling carsicky -- all the time, all day and night -- but it's rarely worse than that. But it's enough for my body to form permanent aversions toward innocent offenders.

Food isn't much of a problem: I can eat everything I normally like, and lots of it, too. My aversions instead take the form of what I hear.

When I was newly pregnant with Addie, I watched "My Best Friend's Wedding." I hated it, of course, but that had more to do with Julia Roberts than morning sickness. I did like the opening song, "Wishin' and Hopin'." Liked it so much that Darren got me the soundtrack. I listened to it maybe four times. Ugh. Ugh. The thought of that song, and the pink background on the movie itself, still makes me ill. I lent the CD to Lindsay, who let someone else borrow it, and I hope whoever that was mailed it to Australia. I was glad to get the CD as far away from me as possible.

When I was pregnant with Stuart, Addie (barely a year old) watched a lot of Baby Einstein videos. Six years later I can hardly be in the same room with Baby Doolittle. The rest are okay, but the music for Doolittle nauseates me.

I seem to have passed through Daphne's pregnancy unscarred, but this one is making up for it. So far I'm unable to listen to the kids' CD "Songs of America," and the very sight of the BigFish.com game "Monster Mash" -- even without hearing the music -- makes me feel icky. Oh, and also I can't play the game "Pirate Poppers" (some $9.99 game we picked up at Target) because I played it in the early days of pregnancy so, well, you know how it goes.

Do you have any odd aversions thanks to sickness (pregnancy or otherwise related?)

-- SJ

P.S. Handy-dandy way to remember if you should use the word "nauseate" or "nauseous.":

1. Nauseated means you feel sick. It's something you ATE - nauseATE.
2. Nauseous means it makes you sick. It makes US sick - nauseoUS.

Try not to tell people that you're nauseous. They might agree with you.

Recurring Wishes

Some thing are natural to childhood. Addie and Stuart have both sighed over unattainable desires that I remember wanting myself.

Stuart wants pets. Cute, cuddly pets from his computer games that he can keep in his room and play with when he's lonely. Oh, son, I know how you feel! I had a whole set of Cute Imaginary Pets that I used to draw (usually when I was supposed to be listening in school). They all lived on a rainbow.

Addie, rolled up in a blanket on the floor, just said wistfully, "I want to fly with wings." My daughter, I feel that longing. I used to pretend I had wings, using a crochet shawl. I trained myself to fly in my dreams.

It's always funny to me when they confide the secret desires of their hearts, not knowing that the rest of the human population is in on the secret.

-- SJ

Christmas in the Pantry

Darren went grocery shopping yesterday, using the list I'd made up. We're proud of our grocery list: we typed out everything we usually buy, organized it by aisle, and when we need to make a list we print out the master list and mark the items we need. Something that organized HAS to save money. You can just hear the pennies tinkling as you print out the list.

I did check the pantry to see what we needed. But I'm short and the pantry was a little messy, so I just guessed at some things. Turns out, I do that a lot.

Because Darren got home (I was napping, my top pregnancy hobby) and got industrious. He cleaned out the pantry. When I say it was "a little messy," I'm actually lying. The pantry was a wreck. It hasn't been organized for, oh, how long have we lived in this house? Five years? He cleared out and organized most of two shelves of cans and boxes. When I got up, I finished putting things away. That's when we discovered exactly how much "guessing" I've been doing.

We have:
* Six boxes of spaghetti (counting the two Darren bought)
* Five bags of goldfish
* Four boxes of brown sugar
* Three boxes of cornstarch
* And the partridge could have been buried underneath four opened bags of dried beans.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes

Sara being uninspired, it falls to Darren (who has not blogged in far too long) to do the 7 Quick Takes today.

1. One of my favorite takes on evangelism is found in cartoon form here. I think perhaps Professor Greg Smith could give Theo a run for his money :)

2. When I was out in Arizona doing depositions in early September, it was blazing hot. Our client told me, “Everyone endures summer in Arizona because of the other 8 months.” Having just gotten back from another trip out there, where I walked around in short sleeves outside on December 3, I am seriously contemplating the benefits of moving to Phoenix. (Just kidding, Sara!)

3. “It is never wise to make assumptions. Assumptions cause cracks in the fragile stucco of reality, and then goblins get in.” Robin McKinley, author of one of my “comfort books,” The Blue Sword.

4. If someone ever asks you to be treasurer of a political action committee (PAC), refuse unless you can extort a substantial amount of money. It’s more stress than it’s worth. Stupid campaign finance laws…

5. I read “A Princess of Mars” by Edgar Rice Burroughs on my recent trip and enjoyed it very much. In fact, the last line made me cry. It’s not nearly so badly over-written as his Tarzan books, and his hero John Carter is a pretty cool guy, handy with both a sword and a hovercar.

6. I’m currently listening to “Passion: Hymns Ancient and Modern” on my computer. I like it, but “How Great You Are” just can’t match up to “How Great Thou Art.” (Especially when pronounced “How grate chew are.”

7. Don’t forget to have your kids leave their shoes outside their door tomorrow night. It’s St. Nicholas Day!

--DJ

More Information

(mostly because I can FINALLY talk about The Baby)

1. The OB and I disagree on how far along I am. This has happened before. This time she thinks I'm about 14 weeks, when I thought I was only about 10. I wouldn't mind being done with my first trimester already. But I'm stubborn when it comes to my gestational calculations. We'll say I'm 12 weeks.

2. Due in early June. (Or late June, depending one which of us is right.) This baby will be a scheduled c-section. As disappointing as it is to have no other option... well, there are perks. I'll know exactly when the baby will come, and the recovery should be easy.

3. Darren had to leave town the morning we went for my first OB visit (this week). I was frantic that we fit it in anyway, because we planned to tell the kids. We cut it close, but Darren brought the kids to my exam room and we were both there to watch the realization dawn in their faces when I said they were hearing "a little heartbeat inside me."

4. The fact that neither Addie nor Stuart picked up on this fact weeks earlier, by listening in to my conversations on the phone, is tribute to their utter obliviousness.

5. Stuart's initial name suggestions: Joseph, Israel, and Sunflower.

6. Names we've considered in the past, and still like, but aren't going to use for various reasons: Avery, Emeth, Meredith, Annaliese, Patience.

7. Ha, ha. Not Patience. I've lobbied for it for three children now, but it never breaches Darren's That Sounds Weird barrier.

8. Serves me right, though. I relegate all his favorite boy names to middle names.

9. This name will be a decider: will we find a middle name that starts with M, to go along with all three other (accidental) M's? Or will we break free of the shackles and choose a name because we like it?

10. Out of the above nine items, five deal with naming. Of course y'all all know that a major reason why I like having babies is because I get to name them.

-- SJ

The Jones Saga

In the spirit of the fantasy and sci-fi genres, the Roberts & Jones Syndicate has announced its plans to expand its current popular trilogy into a saga. The fourth edition is due for release sometime in the summer of 2009.

Says a spokesperson for the Syndicate, "The exisiting trilogy -- Adelaide (2001), Stuart (2002), and Daphne (2006) -- has been received with such enormous welcome that we are confident that the new arrival will be a success."

More bulletins as events warrant.

-- SJ and DJ,
AMJ and SMJ (wildly thrilled),
DMJ (clueless)

What We Think -- "Bloody Confused"

Darren found this book somewhere. Both of us thought it was a great premise: a disillusioned American sportswriter takes a year off, moves to England, and tries to understand the fanatic and complicated world of English football (soccer).

Unfortunately, we weren't nearly as interested in the author as he himself was. We wanted to read about English sports: he wanted to talk about his impressions and misadventures and discoveries. Plus, he was too wordy. He overused adverbs, belabored his jokes, and used ten words when three would have been snappier. I wanted to tell him to shut up because I was trying to read a book.

Most irritatingly, though: he'd broken up with America and he had a crush on England. So everything England did was cool, civilized, historical, soooo cute! Everything American was wasteful, wrongheaded, ignorant, corrupt, such a jerk.

It all got old. So old that neither Darren nor I finished the book. I regret it, because I really was very interested in English football. I just couldn't stand the author's company enough to find out more about it.

-- SJ

What We Think -- "Pretties" and "Specials"

Having read Uglies, a few weeks ago, I finished Scott Westerfeld's series last night. The story stayed interesting (although did tend to get long in places describing how they traveled through the wilds) and was unpredictable enough that you couldn't assume you knew what was going to happen. The end of Book 2, indeed, left me completely baffled as to how he was going to fix THIS mess. He did, and it ends... not exactly happily, but on a satisfying note. I highly recommend these books.

[EDIT]: Further thoughts on the books since initial post:

Westerfeld is an ardent environmentalist, but not obnoxious. He gives the most flaming ecological opinions to Tally, who has been brainwashed all her life to believe that it is real wickedness to cut and burn trees. The thought of eating meat -- dead animals -- makes her sick. But once she's out in the wild with the renegade uglies, she realizes that survival means taking on nature. Westerfeld himself seems to wrestle with the question as to whether human freedom or protecting the planet is more important. By the end of the book, he rules in favor of freedom... but just barely. Still, by the end of the trilogy, you see his point. The planet WAS better off when everyone was mind-controlled, after all. I love authors who can make their struggles your struggles.

Secondly, the theme of the book isn't Do Your Own Thing or Find Yourself. Tally has been taught, surgically altered, and manipulated until she doesn't even know who she is. As for doing her own thing, many of her actions have very serious consequences. The way Tally ultimately does battle with her dragons is by learning self-control. Self-control, not anger, is strength.

There evidently is a fourth book, Extras, but while it deals with the same world, it has new characters. Maybe I'll read it eventually, but I'm not very interested in reading another book just to prolong my visit in that world. Besides, I'm tired after having finally completed one plot: why would I want to get embroiled in another one? This is why I don't read series books in general.

-- SJ

Thankfulness

Darren:
("How many things am I limited to? I came up with ten this morning.")
* A wife who understands me
* Children who are a lot of fun to live with
* A job that is reasonably close and that I enjoy doing, with nice co-workers
* A church that's close, that I enjoy going to
* Vehicles that have been working well (knock on wood)
* Books
("Those were some of the things I came up with.")

Sara:
* Neighbors who celebrate holidays with us!
* On a related note, eating pie with Nina in her kitchen.
* Also related, neighbors who have amazingly comfortable chairs and random magazines around their house. (If it weren't for Dana's gaming magazines, I wouldn't have any idea about what is going on in the world of Halo 3 and Star Trek Online.)
* My husband who is optimistic, easily pleased, and a joy to live with.
* My three funny kids, whose arrivals made life so much more interesting.
* My dana, the portable word processor
* Clergy who reach out to help when they see needs.
* Blogs

Addie:
* The ability to make flags("Because I'm making one right now.").
* My best friend, Mollie
* My new glasses
* My bed
* My grandparents' coming over for Christmas

P.S. Here's Addie's new glasses:


Stuart:
* My nesting dolls (a "Woodlands Creatures" set including a moose, a deer, a raccoon, a porcupine, and a little red squirrel.)
* My family
* My toys
* The computer
* My kitty cat ("He's referring to Puddles," says Addie)

Daphne:
* The beloved stuffed kitty
* Bottles of juice
* Mama, Daddy, Addie, and (most of the time) Stuart
* Puddles

Happy Thanksgiving!

-- the Joneses

P.S. This is Daphne's kitty:

Caroline

Look! A picture! Of my new niece. Sure, she looks like a newborn. But a very PRETTY newborn.

Caroline Eden

About Daphne

We're trying to get her in the habit of saying "Yes, sir" and "Yes, ma'am," something that's harder to do the farther North you go. Back home, parents are reinforced by preachers, teachers, and strangers on the street. Here, it's considered a charming little eccentricity. Actually, Darren thought it was a charming little eccentricity himself at first, but went along with it when I couldn't stand having my children not address me as Ma'am. Now he admits that he finds it very irritating when children do not address their parents properly. As I recall, my mom said much the same thing about my Michigan-born dad.

Anyway, Daphne's catching on. She answers all questions -- including mine -- with "Yessir!"

***

Ever since I first showed her "Baby Signing Time," Daphne's been a signing fiend. It's her favorite conversation piece: when she's at a loss for anything else to talk about, she starts demonstrating her signing vocabulary. I discovered an ASL site, which Daphne calls "the little movies." I estimate that she knows about twenty-five words in sign... which means I do, too.

***

I gave my mother-in-law a heads-up for Christmas: "Daphne will show you all her signs, and then tell you to do it, and then tell you you're doing it wrong."

***

Daphne now plays the computer just like all the rest of the family. Isn't that sweet? She likes starfall.com, thanks to my neighbor Nina who told me about it.

***

She notices what Darren says to me and tries it out herself. "Hi, Love," she'll say. "Hi, Love. I have candy, Love." If I reply with, "That's nice, Love," she'll pout. "I'm not Love. I'm Daphne. YOU Love."

-- SJ

Welcome

My sister Lauren gave birth to Caroline Eden this past Thursday. Of course I don't have any pictures, but I'm assured by a completely unbiased observer (my mother) that Caroline is a very pretty little girl. She was welcomed home by the usual family crowd, including my sister-in-law, Jessica, whose birthday she shares. She wasn't much welcomed home by her one-and-a-half year-old brother, Michael, who really doesn't pay much attention to her at all.

And I feel very far away from home right now.

-- SJ

He Is Six

Daddy and Son

Fat baby

One year

Two years

Three years

Four years

Five years

Six years

Life is never boring with Stuart around. It's been an exciting six years! We love our boy!

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes Friday

Because I want to be part of the Conversion Diary club.

1. I got up for a 7:30 a.m. dentist's appointment this morning. Darren was very sympathetic in an abstract sort of way: he has no actual experience in what it's like to go for a cleaning and come home with the news that I've got three more cavities and two old root canals to be seen to. In fact, when HE goes, the hygienist says, "I'd tell you to floss more, but you've got beautiful teeth. I LOVE your teeth! I worship your teeth! Will you please bite down on this so I can have an AUTOGRAPH of your teeth!" Not that I'm bitter.

2. This time I came away with the news that, yes, there are those problem areas I need to see about... but otherwise things look okay. Did you hear that? Things. Look. Okay. Do you KNOW how long it's been since I've got that verdict?

3. I occasionally let Daphne put on training panties. They're pink. She bounds around the house saying, "I'm wearin' pink pan-tays! I runnin' and jumpin' in pink pan-tays!" She also corrects my pronunciation of the word, when I call them -- oddly enough -- panties.

4. I should be napping right now.

5. Yesterday was our last co-op class until January. The kids all did show-and-tell, and also presented their science projects. Although Darren's buried at work right now, he took a couple extra hours in the morning to come to co-op (the first time he's managed to) which of course sent Stuart into the stratosphere. Addie's science project was "Which Food Do Ants Like Best," and she set up the experiment almost entirely by herself. Stuart's was "Which Soda Spews the Most Fizz?" We don't try to stereotype around here, it just happens.

6. Answer to above: Saltine crackers and Sprite.

7. I made chai-spice shortbread cookies today from a recipe in BH&G. You know how you see a zinger of a title and you think the recipe will be a zinger, too? This was one of those times. Mmmm. Yum. Wow, they're good. For my own sake, I'm sending most of them to youth group with Darren tonight.

7.5. Darren isn't actually IN youth group. He's teaching it.

-- SJ

Introducing... (V)

Stickin' to It is a joint blog by a few of us who are determined to eat better, exercise, and blog about it. Or, as the case may be, fall off the wagon and pretend the blog doesn't exist. (No, really, Missi, I'm going to post something soon. As soon as I wash the chocolate off my fingers.)

You've got five boys, no girls: what else would your name your blog? Darren followed Testosterhome for a long time before I added it to my reader. (As I said, I don't go in for Big Bloggers very much.) Rachel Balducci manages to make life with a houseful of boys seem exciting, funny, and almost doable.

The reigning Wizard of baby names, Laura Wattenberg blogs about all things namish at her Baby Name Wizard blog. She's promised that there will be a second edition of her amazing baby name book. For Kristen R. and me, who cemented our friendship over this book, that promise is pretty much what keeps us going these days.

Have I really never met Queen of Carrots? Very hard to believe. Queen and I discovered each other's blogs through mutual friends, and are pretty devoted fans of each other. When I first began reading her, she had one newborn. She now has two young children and two newborns, and still manages to write posts full of ideas to chew on. Be sure to visit her during these long winter days when she's stuck inside with four children ages four and under.

Another joint blog, this one with cooking ideas. I started it, but find that my style of cooking doesn't lend itself to posted recipes. As in, I have to convert my recipes from paragraphs beginning, "What I did was this..." The other contributors come from a range of tastes and cooking styles, and if you browse the blog you're bound to find something amazing to try.

The Final Score

8:45 a.m.: Daphne refuses to eat any of the baked oatmeal offered to her.

4:45 p.m.: Daphne eats her first meal of the day after finally swallowing a bite of baked oatmeal, sprinkled liberally with brown sugar.

Score:
Mama: Victor and exhausted
Daphne: Winner of the Trophy for Best Defensive Play

-- SJ

Horrifying My Husband

I sat here typing away on an idea. One, two, three full paragraphs. Then I realized that I didn't like how it was going, and I wasn't actually ready to articulate it the way I wanted to. (I figure that if I start getting bored halfway through my post, there's no hope for my readership.)

So I deleted it.

Darren, poor soul, looked up from his book just in time to see the whole post highlighted and hear the fatal click of the backspace key.

"You didn't," he said.

Darren hates watching me write. That's because he can compose his entire piece in his head, and all he has to do is type it out. I form my idea as I go, which means that I have to cut, paste, and prune as I go. That's not even counting the innumerable tweaks after I'm technically finished. He likes the results, so I don't know why he complains about the process.

But he does. "I should have waited three more seconds before I looked up," he sighed. He buried himself in his book again to numb the pain.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes

Jen at Conversion Diary has been posting "quick takes" and opened up links to anyone else who wants to. Of course, I've been doing Mundania posts for a long time, which are bascially the same thing, only not exactly quick because I'm not so good at that part.

1. Stuart asked Daddy to wake him up early this morning, so Darren got him up in time to share morning prayers. Since Stuart doesn't naturally wake up before 8:30, he's pretty fizzed to be the first kid up this morning. Very generous of Darren, who likes that morning spot to himself.

2. I'm reading a Raymond Chandler book, "The Big Sleep." It's part of my cultural education to read Raymond Chandler, I think. Mostly what I notice is that the story features various attractive women in varying states of undress. And the protagonist always describes their... legs. But he does so in such a way that communicates everything he intends to about the woman.

3. Darren likes to call Daphne "precious." Because Daphne always says, "I not precious. I Daphne."

4. Yesterday was my last history class to teach for our weekly co-op. I didn't even have to teach it: one of the little boys has a grandfather who fought in the Korean War, and he came and showed the kids slides and some of his army regalia. Not only was it instructve for me, but the kids were pretty excited to have a MAN there. The co-op, being run by homeschool moms and their kids, specializes in voices of a higher register.

5. I just thought, "Wow, this is hard to get done this morning. I'm only on #4!" Then I realized that I was on #5, but had numbered it wrong. The story of my life.

6. I'm writing an article about Names, which has proven surprisingly difficult. There's just so much I'd like to say! And so much I'd like to tell people NOT to do! I've finally decided on what to say, and it won't even include a scathing diatribe against people who stole my perfect boy name Avery and turned it into a girl's name.

7. Addie insisted that she wanted to learn to write in cursive. And not cursive italic, either, which is what I'd planned. No, we have to go with traditional, loopy, fussy D'Nealian cursive. We're up to S now, and all the way along I've had to practice how to write it because I abandoned the proper forms long, long ago.

-- SJ

New Name Fun!

And I thought the Name Voyager was fun. The Baby Name Wizard now has the NameMapper to show how names catch on and spread throughout the United States. Enter names like "Jennifer," "Emily," and "Jacob" for a graphic illustration of how some names have come in like a flood.

Enter names like "Adelaide" and "Daphne" and you get the highly gratifying notice that the names "have never been in the top 100 in any state."

If you need me for anything, I'll be unavailable for the next three days or so. (Oh! I haven't tried "Olivia" yet!)

-- SJ

*GOLD AWARD FOR MOST USES OF THE WORD "NAME" IN A SINGLE POST!*

Jesse's All Saints' Day Song

Jesse obligingly posted the lyrics to his St. Stephen song. Since he thoughtfully left a CD with the original song on it so we'd know what the heck his was based on (um, the Joneses don't so much do Audio Adrenaline), we were able to appreciate this remarkable songwriting effort. Except I'd have appreciated it more if he'd performed it at the party, no thanks to PEOPLE WHO HIDE THEIR TALENTS UNDER BUSHELS (or brown bowls, as the case may be).

Check it out!

-- SJ

P.S. (whispering discreetly so nobody else can hear me) *Hey, Jesse, you need to get back with Darren about the movie night. Thanks.*

What We Think -- "Flora Segunda" and "Uglies"

Flora Segunda by Ysabeau S. Wilce (how 'bout THAT name, Kristen?) concerns young Flora Segunda Frydraaca ov Frydraaca, the last in a dying soldiering line. They live in Crackpot Mansion, which has eleven thousand rooms but no Butler. Flora's mother, General Frydraaca, banished the Butler, a magical being that maintained the house. So now the house is falling apart. Meanwhild, the pacifist Flora is trapped into a military career like the rest of her family, when she'd rather be a magical Ranger. When she accidentally finds Valefor, the banished Butler, she sets out to restore his power... not realizing it could cost hers.

I was delighted with this book from the first page, all the way to about the second chapter. Then the book went on, and I followed, but with diminishing interest until I finally got to the end and thought, "Huh. That wasn't as satisfying as I was hoping." After thinking it over, I realized that I was mostly interested in the house and the Butler, while the author focused more on Flora and her adventures. It's a pretty good story, as long as you don't mind leaving the house. One aspect I did notice: Flora doesn't believe in violence, and never resorts to it even in self-defense or irritation. But the way she reclaims herself before she fades away into the Elsewhere is that she becomes so angry, so furious, that she asserts her Will and saves herself. I wondered at the idea that anger is strength. She uses anger to browbeat others into doing things her way. So although she never raises a hand against anyone, she still uses emotional violence. Perhaps that was another reason why I wasn't satisfied with the book in the end: I didn't like its message.

I see that Amazon lists a second book. The discovery doesn't excite me much.

*
My niece Katie recommended Scott Westerfield's Uglies. Its premise is that in a future world, everyone is born "ugly." At age sixteen, they undergo extensive surgery that turns them "pretty," and they go live in New Pretty Town where they party all the time. Tally is an ugly, but only for three more months. She can't wait to join her friend Peris in the City. She hates being ugly: one of her pastimes (indeed, all uglies' pastimes) is to take a digital image of her face and alter it to the exact Pretty dimensions so she can see what she'll look like. But her new friend, Shay, says she doesn't want to be a pretty. She thinks they look just fine the way they are. She wants to escape to a secret city where other uglies live. Tally watches her go, but isn't convinced. Unfortunately, what Tally doesn't know is that there's more to that operation than just good looks.

I enjoyed it very much. The author did a good job of making you sympathize with Tally even while wanting to whack her upside her perfectly normal-looking head for not seeing the truth. The message of this book is very relevant indeed.

This is the first in a three- or four-book series, and I'm looking forward to getting the second one out as soon as I can.

-- SJ

Stay Tuned for a New Post!

I'm reading more books, which means I'll be blogging about them. Today, however, I spent nearly all afternoon suffering from a migraine due to lack of sleep. The last time this happened, a couple of weeks ago, it was a Tuesday morning and Darren had left for work. So I called Deidre and croaked, "You don't have to, but could you come watch my kids while I sleep this off?" And she did. There are Gold Stars on her chart in Heaven.

Today, Darren took over the household, including getting the kids a filling and nutritious supper of Happy Meals.

Yesterday I couldn't post because I escaped around noon and spent four hours all by myself -- reading, writing, and thinking uninterrupted thoughts. Then the babysitter arrived and Darren joined me, and we ate Indian and had lots of uninterrupted conversation. It was a happy day. Darren has so many Gold Stars that they've had to tack up extra charts to make room for them all.

-- SJ

Boredom

A few years ago, my days were bleak and empty. I was at home with two toddlers, I didn't have many friends in the area, I didn't have any outlet for writing, and I couldn't clean anything without two disasters on legs undoing all my work.

I'd sit on the couch and think dismally, "I'm so bored."

Today, I've got piles of stuff to get done: an article to revise, another to write, history to prepare for, a Christmas letter to write... oh, good heavens, I need to start on Christmas shopping as well... And of course the House Fairies haven't done a darn thing toward vacuuming or cleaning the bathrooms.

So, naturally, I'm tapping away at my dana, writing about WWII in a way that seven-year-olds will listen, and thinking, "I'm so bored."

It's fun being human!

-- SJ

Kids Voting

Kristin R. sent me this link to help kids understand why people vote for different candidates. If you've got children old enough to understand, you should try it.

I made a poster of it and went over it in school today. It didn't take very long to do, and Addie and Stuart grasped the idea. They voted for more candy and going to the park, figuring that was worth having to clean up their rooms every day.

-- SJ

Rant: Twilight

Dear Katie and anyone else reading the Twilight series: Skip this post because I mention spoilers, in a very heated manner.

I restrained myself when reviewing Twilight before because I recognized that its greatest flaw was that I was too old for it. There was one aspect of it that really, really bothered me, but nobly I swallowed the rant.

Well, sorry, here it comes up again.

The teenager who cuts our lawn and sells us subs for his senior class trip was here again. He's finished all the Twilight books and is eagerly waiting for the movie.

Andrew remarked, "Bella has a child..."

"Woah. Wait," I said. "How did she have a child? With Edward the vampire? There's something biologically wrong with that."

"She and Edward got married," he explained hastily.

Yeah, but I'd said biologically, not morally. I couldn't bring myself to explain to him why it was an utter absurdity for Bella to have a child that was half-human, half-vampire. Here's why: Edward, and the other vampires, do not eat. They do not sleep. They do not breathe. They have no heartbeat. THEY ARE DEAD. That's what vampires are, half-dead beings.

So why, when all these other human bodily functions don't work, the sexual organs still DO? To put it more bluntly, which I didn't have the heart to do for Andrew, DEAD MEN DO NOT HAVE BLOOD FLOW AND CANNOT PRODUCE SPERM. THEY CANNOT HAVE SEX AND THEY CANNOT REPRODUCE.

The author makes a big deal out of Edward's death-like existence, but obviously didn't think through the implications. It took some thinking, too: it took a whole fifteen seconds for me to realize the difficulty.

Whatever. I guess the teens don't realize it, but it would be a very bleak experience to be married to a vampire.

-- SJ

The Right Time

A rare and probably lone post about the elections.

With the election approaching (everybody DID hear that there's this election coming up, right?) I've realized something embarrassing: our children know more about How Babies Are Made than they do about How Daddy And Mama Decide Which Leaders to Vote For. We just don't talk politics in this house.

Part of the reason we don't is because of the ever-hot topic of abortion. It's something both of us feel deeply about, but we're reluctant to introduce Addie and Stuart to the fact that it exists. Even when I volunteer at the local crisis pregnancy center (I do the newsletter, not counseling, in case you thought I had hidden depths), we describe it as a "place that helps mothers and babies."

But of course our major objection to Obama is his aggressive support of abortion and refusal to acknowledge that infants born alive after an attempted abortion are entitled -- as human beings -- to basic care. If we leave out that issue when talking to our kids about who to elect, we're left trying to explain why taking money from the rich to give to the poor might not be a good idea for the country. Just TRY explaining that to two children who read missionary stories and want to open a hotel where people can stay free.

My question is, when do we broach the subject of abortion? They're old enough to comprehend it, but not old enough to process it. We don't want to turn it into a black-and-white Good Guys (us) and Bad Guys (them), but understanding the reasoning behind the abortion culture is sophisticated thinking. I'd like to avoid the subject entirely, but as I've realized, we're failing to teach our children what we personally believe. And that's bad parenting.

(Note: I do not want to get into The Debate, nor will I fall in with diatribes against The Other Side. I just want your opinion on introducing a difficult topic.)

-- SJ (and DJ too)

All Saints' Day 2008

I normally post an account of our ASD party a day or two after the fact. This year, I've begun freelancing for a local magazine and had a deadline looming, so there were no creative energies to spare on party talk.

Which wouldn't be even worth mentioning except that in the week since the party, I've misplaced all the cards that told who brought what food and why. And that's pretty much the whole point of the party, is the food.

I'll try to reconstruct the menu from memory sometime when I'm not a single mom babysitting two extra kids. I do want to mention the Best Effort Award, which goes to Jesse. It wasn't till after the party was over that I realized he'd composed a song about St. Stephen the Martyr. I'd have had him perform it if I knew about it, which might possibly be why I didn't know about it. Jesse, could you send me the lyrics so I can post them (so also I don't have to re-type them myself)?

This post is lacking in warm and sparkling details because I'm short on sleep (and husbands). I texted Darren this afternoon to tell him that I "used up the last of the milk to make myself coffee, so now I'm not a raging monster mama." Only predictive text inserted the word "named" instead of "make." Pretty accurate: as Kristen R. says, a little artificial personality can go a long way when you need sleep.

-- SJ

Retroactive Honor

I got a call from someone that I've become good friends with over the last two years.

"Hey," she said. "I just called to tell you that I'm retroactively putting you in my wedding."

I happily accepted. After all, it's all the honor without all the cost.

-- SJ

Tonight I Was a Good Daddy

This year, a new nursery opened just down the road from us. Sara has been wanting to get over there for months to browse around, and today we finally went. We picked up a pumpkin for each of the kids. Stuart and Addie competed to see who could get the biggest one (Addie won, with a 20 lb. effort).
Then we came home and committed Jack-O'Lanterning :)

First, Addie had to dress the sacrificial victims properly.


Daddy undertakes the fateful deed of carving.


A boy and his pumpkin.


Mama says this pumpkin needs to floss.

A fun night, and we got roasted pumpkin seeds for snack. Yum!

--DJ

Back to Basics

I called Darren at work just as he was shutting down his computer. "Hey, could you stop by the grocery store on the way home and pick up some things?"

"Sure. Want to text me the list? Oh, hold on, you could email my legal assistant in the next couple minutes and he could print it out for me. His address is..."

"Wait, wait. Or -- this is a pretty radical idea -- you could reach over and pick up a pen off your desk and write down what I tell you."

Pause.

"I'm sticking my tongue out at you."

-- SJ

I'm enjoying

Carrie Newcomer.

It's mellow folksy music. I found her at random in the folk section of Borders. She's Quaker, it turns out; maybe that's why her songs have an upswing of hope that many others don't. Or maybe that's why she writes about something other than lost love, a subject that doesn't wear nearly as well as some singers think it does.

-- SJ

Finished

I finished Brideshead Revisited yesterday, and liked the ending very much. I plan to re-read the book in a year or two; now that I know the story, I think I'll be able to grasp what Waugh is actually writing about -- which isn't the story I thought it was.

Also, I think the book was written quickly, leaving in some parts that would have been pared down with editing. Oh that I could write something this deep so "quickly."

It's worth a shot, definitely. If you do read it, email me because I'd love to discuss it.

Now to return to Zenna Henderson's People stories, which have all the subtlety of a train wreck (but much more fun).

-- Sara.

Reading

I've mentioned a few times before that Darren and I usually can't share reading lists. Not only because he reads an indecent number of books in a month, but because we like different things.

He recently listened to "Brideshead Revisited" by Evelyn Waugh. He loved it. Came home raving about it and said he *thought* I'd like it. (We've learned to qualify these statements.)

I'm almost finished reading it. And am fighting the feeling that I'm drifting in a sea of concepts and grabbing only about every third one that comes by. Some pivotal realization takes place, the story changes direction, and I'm left wondering, "What the heck happened? Why can't you TELL me what happened?"

But Darren basks in prose like this, slippery writing where the author doesn't say things outright, so you're left with more of an impression than a fact. He reads books like these as much for the writing as for the story. It's not a love I understand: I like skillful prose, but don't delight in poetry. But many of my tastes have changed in the eight years since I married Darren. I'll finish the book. Maybe when I come back to it in a few years, I'll get it.

Or, like Darren, not require that I get everything, and just enjoy it. I have a long way to go.

-- SJ

Irony Rocks

The more liberated we become, the more wacky measures we have to take to protect ourselves... from ourselves. Touchstone mentions a new feature that tries to minimize the unfortunate side effects of getting stinking drunk over the weekend. Considering that I'm likely to bomb five math problems even when sober, well-rested, and eating a balanced diet, my policy will be to avoid getting drunk.

Also, parents of preschoolers in New Jersey have been up in arms over a mandatory flu shot. I like the part where one of the organizers says, "This one-size-fits-all approach is really very anti-American." Um, do you know why the public school system was created? Hint: it wasn't to foster individuality and nonconformity. One-size-fits-all is actually a revered American approach.

-- SJ

Kid Quotes

At our weekly co-op, the science class studied molecules by making models with gumdrops. Addie brought me her plate as soon as class was over. "Look, Mama. Gumdrops. My teacher said I had to show you before I ate any. I was really hungry and I cried, but she wouldn't let me eat any."

She sat down and helped herself to a green one and a white one. A moment later, the anguished cry of disillustionment rang through the building: "Gumdrops taste AWFUL!"

***

I asked Stuart to pray as we were pulling out of the driveway one afternoon. He prayed, "Dear Jesus, please bless our trip."

Of course Daphne was echoing him as he spoke. Her prayer came out as, "Dear Jesus, please trip."

***

Stuart has developed a taste for trash-talking. Fortunately he doesn't have access to any real insults, so he makes them up. He and Daphne play the Trash Talk Echo Game: "You cuckoo bird!" "You cook bird." "You lamp smasher!" "You lamp mash." "You magnet cranker!" "You magmumble ker!" Yesterday he was calling her "You Monopoly butt!" but he got in trouble for that.

-- SJ

Darren's Birthday Present

I got him this. I bet Darcy, who put such a stock in building a personal library, would have liked one of these.

-- SJ

Twenty-Five by Forty

This was going to be my list of forty goals to accomplish by the time I'm forty years old. I don't tend to be an ambitious person, though, so there are only twenty-five goals.

--DJ

He didn't like my suggestions of "create a scrapbook" and "play Nancy Drew with Sara." So much for working together for common life goals. -- SJ

1. Read Dante’s Divine Comedy
2. Start learning Spanish
3. Take piano lessons for a year
4. Learn how to bake bread from scratch
5. Go to a play
6. Take kids to Disney World
7. Memorize the seven penitential Psalms
8. Witness to a non-Christian
9. Make a deep friend
10. Take a retreat at Holy Cross Monastery
11. Read through the entire Bible in a year
12. Read Sienkiewicz’s Polish trilogy
13. Write a good poem
14. Teach a class on Church history
15. Go away for a weekend with Sara
16. Memorize the Lord’s Prayer and Apostles’ Creed in Latin
17. Go to a performance of Durufle’s Requiem
18. Get to a weight of 190 pounds
19. Drive a PT cruiser
20. Ride in a limousine
21. Have 6 months worth of pay in savings account
22. Buy a nice fedora
23. Learn to play guitar
24. Get article published in Touchstone
25. Buy a good big seascape

Happy (oops) Birthday!

It's not that I forgot, by any means. I made him a special supper the night before, I got up with the kids yesterday morning so he could sleep in, we gave him cards and a present before breakfast, we all went out to eat Thai food for lunch. We celebrated his birthday all day. But I forgot to post about it, so now I'm worried that it wasn't a real official birthday after all.

Yesterday my favorite person turned 35. Much to our surprise: we thought that just happened to other people. Any followers of this blog, whether faithful readers or random drop-in, know very well that I see Darren with starry eyes of hero worship. It's just that he keeps deserving it. Not much I can do about it.

Darren makes the world a better place. He's easygoing: he doesn't usually feel it necessary to make others agree with him. He's very patient. He calls his parents every Sunday, thinks his mom is great, and doesn't think I should be just like his mom. He's one of those dads that go for a seriously high price at the Father Store, although he thinks he never quite reaches the standard that his own dad set.

Happy birthday, Wonderful! Some things are so obvious that we just go ahead and say it anyway: I love you!

-- SJ

P.S. Darren also takes it in stride when his wife forgets to post about his birthday, even though she emails him to remind him to post about HER birthday because it's So Important To Her.

What We Think -- Random Roundup

I've read books lately -- six in the last month! That's not even counting BH&G! Just that alone is blogworthy, but I'm even adding opinion and commentary. Brief opinion and commentary. Such a day is rarely seen in the blogworld.

• Something from the Nightside, Simon Green
• Agents of Light and Darkness, Simon Green

The Nightside books are everything I hate. Private eye, horror, gritty and dark, violent. I'm completely at a loss as to why I enjoy them so much. It isn't even that Green is a top-notch writer, merely an entertaining one. Maybe it's because the books are a mix of reality, fantasy, and sci-fi, and there are some very funny lines. Maybe it's because the bad guys are really, really bad and the good guy resists sinking to their level. Maybe I enjoy the fact that the author allows real supernatural power to exist, whether good or bad. The second book features angels and demons as strong, terrifying, single-minded messengers who show no mercy. These are beings you want to steer clear of. (They're also a bit limited in their thinking, since all they do is carry out orders, which is pretty funny.)

• Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen

I got this book from my book swap partner. (I sent her The Oxford Book of Humourous Prose, which isn't nearly as terrible as it sounds.) Gruen is a writer of enormous skill. I enjoyed her writing as much as I did the story itself, about a Depression-era circus. One example of how understated she is, but still manages to tell her story, is the part where Marlena gets hurt and is taken to Barbara's tent. Barbara is the strip-tease dancer and prostitute. The ringmaster asks where Marlena is, and Jacob (the protagonist) says, "She's in Barbara's tent." The ringmaster says, "Who?" and Jacob says, "The cooch girl." The ringmaster turns and says, "She's in the cooch girl's tent. Go get somebody to help." It's enlightening that Jacob knows Barbara's name and the ringmaster doesn't. The whole book is written in the same restrained, illuminating style.

Fine print: There are some "R-rated" scenes -- rather trashy scenes -- but they fit the context of the story. For the record I do object on principle to the choices of some of the characters. But I loved this book.

• The Shack, William P. Young

A controversial book about God that people find inspirational and healing. I saw sweetness and goo all over the place and ignored this book. My mother-in-law not only read it, but agreed to do a discussion of it at her church, and asked us to read it. So I picked it up. I was engaged by the first chapter, cried during the middle (not because of touching scenes, but because I so identified with the main character's anger and inability to trust that God is good), and finished it with the feeling that it's a healing book to read. Not perfect and occasionally a trifle precious, but overall a good read. I think it appeals to a certain type of person, especially those who have wounds that haven't healed over very well. Plus it's not a traditional novel. It's more a framework for discussions of God and who He is. As for the Big-C Controversial part of it, it made sense within the story and I had no trouble with it.

• Twilight, Stephanie Meyer

This has hit the Bestseller list, has been made into an upcoming movie, and is the type of book I like. Well, I'm not fond of vampire stories in general, but this one is Young Adult and very clean. And what could be cooler than a story about a girl who falls in love with a vampire? Huh. LOTS could be cooler than this book. I didn't like it. The author thinks her vampire is about twenty-five times more fascinating than I do, the protagonist is angsty and unfriendly, and the entire point of the book was... falling in love? Eternally? At seventeen? Pardon me for being underwhelmed. I've been assured by at least two Twlight fans that I'll like the second book better. The author split a story in half and stuffed it with cotton candy to make it longer. Still, I'm not rushing out to throw myself on the waiting list at the library.

In the interest of equal time, Darren liked the book. Whatever.

• The Blue Sword, Robin McKinley

Darren told me over and over how much he likes this book (the sequel won a Newberry). I finally decided to try it, even though McKinley and I have a rocky relationship. Her word choices or phrasing often irritate me, although when I go back and read it carefully, I realize she's saying exactly what she wants to. This book started off dry, but I stuck with it. I'm glad I did. It's not a rollicking tale; it's very dense narrative, rather detached in tone. But it's a very engaging story. Plus, McKinley being a poet, the descriptions -- even of the desert -- are beautifully done. And the story itself has whiffs of the classic potboiler Upright English Lady Carried Off By Sensual Desert Sheik, which makes it appealing on other levels. :)

That's the lineup.

-- SJ

Introducing... (IIII)

Peter was Best Man in our wedding, and at the reception gave the most wonderful toast that ended up introducing us as our new joint email address. We met Debra shortly after she and Peter married, but the poor girl met practically all of Peter's East Coast friends in one trip, so I wonder how much she actually remembers. The Fears and the Joneses have gotten to know each other through blogs, and it's been fun.

Susannah (Pygmy Puffs and Heffalumps) ran the bookstore where Darren works, and her husband held Morning Prayer out of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer once a week, so both were important people in Darren's universe. We were sorry to see them go when they moved, but that's why God created blogs.

Most BFFs promise to be in each other's weddings, but then there was us. Dana (Magical Realism) and I planned to share an old elegant home when we got old, occasionally leaving it to take a deserving neice or nephew on a European tour. By this time we realize that we can't share a house because we couldn't agree on where to live (we're the city mouse and country mouse all over again). But then, the husbands complicate the whole plan anyway. Brooks over at One Glass is my best-friend-in-law.

I knew Kelly (Restless Heart) for years because she was Darren's legal assistant. We didn't actually connect in friendship until about three months ago. And ha ha, how funny that within weeks of our first long emails, while we were still surprised and pleased at our new friendship, her husband landed a new job two states away! *chuckle.* So Kelly has moved out of my reach, but she's still online, seeing the world with her unusual perspective.

-- SJ

More to come periodically.

The (the) Echo (echo) Stage (stage)

Daphne's in the Echo Stage ("In da echo stage.") She repeats whatever she hears ("Peats ever hears.") She also repeats herself, tirelessly, until somebody acknowledges what she's saying. Oh, but not just anybody: Daphne has an acute sense of being pawned off. If Darren tries to answer her to save me the effort, Daphne immediately reproaches him: "No, Daddy. I talkin' to Mama." Same goes for me if she was talkin' to Daddy, and same goes for both of us if she was talkin' to Addie or Stuart. Daphne's a tyrant.

Last night in the van, Darren and I were trying to have a conversation. Daphne was trying to contribute. We tuned in to hear her saying, "It's getting dark." We didn't answer, and she repeated it. And repeated it. We started keeping count. She repeated it. And repeated it. She said "It's getting dark" twenty times before demanding that Darren and I "please stoppit laughing."

-- SJ

Black Pot, Meet Black Kettle

In a parking lot, I saw a bumper-sticker on a van:

"You can't be Catholic and Pro-Abortion."

I got closer and saw that someone had written across it in black marker:

"Then why be Catholic, you judgmental jerk."

-- SJ

It Came Out of My Mouth

Addie saw a picture of Bratz dolls. I explained why she didn't have any: "They don't dress like young ladies should, they wear too much makeup, and they call themselves brats. I don't want you to be a brat."

Then I said it.

In my defense, I was referring to Elina or Genevieve. These two characters are actually rather good role models.

Still, I said it.

"I'd rather you be like Barbie than Bratz."

-- SJ

The Lettermaker: A Christmas Project

Thanks to y'all who responded to my odd request, a beta testing as it were. Last night I polished up everything and started the word around, and now I'll post it here:

It’s time for the annual holiday letter. You know, the one that’s fun to get, fun to read, and a headache to write. This year, you can have all the fun without the work – The Lettermaker will write your letter for you!

You provide the information and choose your style template, and I do all the organizing and writing. In little more than a week, you’ll be ready to print out and mail your completed holiday letter.

(You must be able to receive multiple attachments via email and open MS Word documents. The Lettermaker doesn’t print, label, or mail the letters.)

Obviously I'll be open until Christmas, but wouldn't it be nice to have that all taken care of ahead of time? Let me know when you're ready to start.

-- SJ

Introducing... (III)

Seven years ago, we held our first All Saint's Day Party and Charlessa was one of the guests. She's attended almost every party since. Last year, her invitation included a husband -- Jesse. Charlessa's blog recounts the trials of being the lone full-time librarian in a college library, and Jesse posts a lot about science and theology. Not a range of subjects you ever expect to intersect.

There was very limited access into the Jones Family ten years ago. I'm grateful that I share the daughter-in-law slot with Jill. She's fun, has a love of beautiful things, displays amazing patience with her full household of four children, and makes absolutely heavenly toffee. The Virginia Joneses and the New Hampshire Joneses live at very different speeds of life, but all enjoy each other very much.

Amy K and I have many mutual friends -- including our husbands, who both boarded with the Halls' at one time. We became friends ourselves when she worked at HSLDA. Amy's was the first blog I began to follow, before I even began one myself. I can always count on something profound or entertaining from Amy. (The entertainment factor skyrocketed once her older daughter, Meredith, began talking.) The last time Darren and I saw Kevin and Amy in person, Meredith was a baby in a carrier. But it doesn't feel as if we've missed out too much on each others' lives, thanks be to blogs.

Well, of course there's Lindsay! Everybody at HSLDA met Darren first. When Lindsay arrived with her sparkle, enthusiasm, loud laughter, and countless catchphrases, everybody turned to Darren and asked, "Where in the gene pool did SHE come from?" (From her mother, for the record.) Lindsay is the person I can go to for fun and games, or serious talks. Pretty much the only thing we can't do together is watch movies, because I don't like her movies and she can't figure out if I even LIKE any movies.

More to come periodically...

-- SJ