Christmas 2011

We're sticklers for tradition, so here we're posting pictures of grinning children opening gifts. Well, to be technical about it, it's the grandparents who are the sticklers for this annual ritual. We're happy to oblige, though.

Gathered 'round the Christmas tree. This was the year that Christmas dawned on Phillip, and it was a beautiful thing.


Stuart, whose gifts now double as Fun For Daddy.


Daphne, thrilled to get a diary from Aunt Lindsay, completely oblivious to the fact that she can't write anything except her name.

Addi got a mug-decorating kit from our neighbors, the Shaws, and forgot about her other presents as she lost herself in Art. This picture also shows Addi's great change as of a week ago: she got all her long hair cut off.

Oh, Pip was all about opening presents. He got a stack of new books and (in this picture) two new cars for his Thomas Train collection.

Fun times with Playdough! Please note that while I was doing this, and Darren was helping Addi assemble one of her presents, our own gifts lay unopened under the tree. I never realized just how deeply the sacrifices of parenthood could cut.


The three older kids have formed a "snuggi club" now that they all have blankets with arms. Here they are in the pose entitled "Stockings, Before."

And Stockings, After.

Pip's godmother will be pleased to see him mastering the art of Pez.

Computers need Christmas joy, too. Right?

My favorite gift from Darren was this set of hand-made bowls. Even better, the hands that made them belong to my good friend Deidre (Pip's aforementioned godmother).


I am continually amazed at the beautiful work Deidre turns out. As you can imagine, these dishes make food taste worlds better.


This red-bearded man needed a new necklace -- the other one, like so many before it, fell under the onslaught of a toddler -- so I got him this one from an Etsy shop. It's silver with a wood inlay, and I think it's pretty snazzy.

Gifts, laughter, and joy: makes for a good celebration of the Incarnation of God. Merry Christmas, y'all.

-- SJ

Family Picture 2011

Almost all of us don't look goofy!

Sara, Hold the H

The following post is blatantly narcissistic. Next time, as penance, I’ll do a post that doesn’t involve the singular personal pronoun.

I am Sara. Notice, four letters. Notice, no H. My dad chose my name and the spelling, and I fully embraced it. As a child, I insisted that my teachers spell it correctly. As a teen, I signed my name “Sarah” and slashed out the H. I was pretty adamant about that H.

Naturally, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that it’s just not that important for my name to be spelled correctly. It’s not like I looked at a Christmas card last week, saw my name spelled wrong, and said to Darren, “This is addressed to you and your other wife.”

Long ago, I formed theories about the two names. Sara, to me, is trim and modern. Clean lines and casual lifestyle. Sarah, on the other hand, is old-fashioned. Conservative tastes, formal dress, traditional views. Yes, I know, the division is artificial and inaccurate. But hey, this post is all about me and my ideas.

At the time, I lived my life conforming to a certain style of life and thinking. I wore dresses – not because I liked them, but because I believed it was my duty as a Christian female. I assumed my destiny involved marrying a staid, upright man and having many children. I knew I would guide said children to God with my loving but strict discipline. In church, I despised “praise songs” for their shallowness and modern tunes. I considered a drum set as valid grounds for leaving a church. I loved princesses, castles, and swords.

It was with real regret that I realized that, according to my own definition, I was more of a Sarah than a Sara.

That thought has persisted for years. Even though I wear pants nearly all the time, including to church. Even though I dance in church and like a well-played drum set during the praise songs. Even though I married a man with unexpected opinions and a good sense of fun. Even though I am satisfied with only four children, and rarely lay down the law without letting them have a say first.

(I still love princesses and castles and swords.)

What finally made me see the change was when our small congregation had to move out of its building because we couldn’t afford the rent. We put the pews in storage, cut out some of the extra formalities of the service, and gathered in a member’s home to have church there. And I liked the difference. The atmosphere is so much more comfortable and casual. The service is less rigid, without losing the beautiful structure of the liturgy.

It’s a surprise to me that I think this way. I didn’t know I felt like that. On the other hand, this realization came to a happy ending.

I don’t need that H after all. I am the person I really wanted to be all along.

I am Sara.

-- SJ (no, really?)

Monday Rant

It's Monday after a holiday, and I will rant.

I could rant about a lot of things, actually. Like stores opening on midnight on Thanksgiving. Come on, America. Can't you enjoy the whole day before flinging yourself into a frenzy of acquisition? I know it's fun and a tradition and gives you a head rush, but you do realize that when you shop, other people have to run the store? Meaning that you get to spend your fun Thanksgiving with family, then head out to get great deals, then go home and rest... while employees cut short their celebrations so they'll be rested enough to work a twelve-hour shift. Sometimes we need to step back and say, "We've gone a little bit too far." This is one of those times.

Or I could rant about Puff, the Magic Dragon. Daphne has learned to play the whole song on the piano, complete with simple chords. I'm very impressed with her accomplishment, but I don't think I can adequately communicate how many times we have heard this song. Two weeks ago I knew only the first line. Now I know the whole song. The thing is, I've never been very taken by Puff as an adult. I had the impression that, despite its engaging tune and fun words, it was a sad song. Turns out I was right.

It sounds like a kid song, with lyrics like, "... and brought him string and sealing wax, and other fancy stuff." But then it gets to the last verse, and suddenly it's aimed at adults? Talking about loss of innocence? ("Dragons live forever, but not so little boys. Painted wings and giant springs make way for other toys. One gray night it happened, Jackie came no more. And Puff, that mighty dragon, ceased his fearless roar.") In which case, the cute lyrics become cloying, and children cry. Ask any child who has listened to the entire song, and you'll be told that

A. Jackie Paper dies
B. Puff dies
C. I don't like that part because it's sad.

I had to assure Daphne that she could make up a new ending, in which another little girl or boy comes to Puff's cave, and Puff comes out to play again. I find the entire song extremely annoying, and now hold a grudge against Peter, Paul and Mary.

And then there are Thomas trains. They attach one certain way, face-forward. Except the coach Clarabelle, whose face points backwards. It frustrates adults who aren't all that interested in re-attaching them anyway, because these trains always meet dire and catastrophic ends off the edge of the couch ("Oh no! Down! Choo-choo down! Mama mama mama mama down! Choo-choo!")

Is it Tuesday yet?

-- SJ

Top Nine Things to Know About Stuart

1. He was born after twelve hours of labor and a c-section. When they took him out to the nursery, Darren followed. He got to hold him and talk to him for the first half-hour of his life. When I woke up in recovery, Darren was there to tell me that our new son had blond hair and toes just like Addie's.

2. As soon as he learned to smile, he found the world very, very funny. He would sneeze, and then laugh.

3. His loud and sunny personality was the best thing that ever happened to silent, skittish Addie.

4. He has a massive gag reflex. He has been known to throw up just thinking about something gross.

5. He's a gaming geek already. He plays D&D, wants to play Warhammer, and reads up on Wizard 101 so he can coach us as to the best strategies.

6. He was disappointed in the fourth and fifth Harry Potter movies because they left out "the best parts": the Nifflers and Flobberworms and other random background creatures.

7. He can multiply two digits by two digits in his head.

8. He thinks much more deeply than his oblivious, happy-go-lucky demeanor suggests.

9. Today he turns nine years old! He's improved our Thanksgiving celebrations dramatically ever since his arrival.




We love you, Stuart!

-- SJ, DJ, AMJ, DMJ, PGJ

Three Rings of Four Kids

A ring of four kids (2011):



Same kids, different ring, different time (2010):



The Ring of Four Kids started here. How times change! (2009)

Kid Logic

Look closely at this keyboard. Notice anything?


This is what happens when your kids think your dana doesn't work anymore, and also discover that the keys pop off easily. As Stuart said, "I don't see why the guy made the letters on the keyboard out of order in the first place."

-- SJ

Collection of Pictures

In no particular order, as usual:


For those who missed every single Facebook post from every single person on the East Coast this weekend, we got an early snow. Our neighborhood was lucky: we didn't lose power. But my neighbor lost her Bradford pear. We're calling it "the banana tree" because of the way it peeled itself off its trunk. Ha ha! We can laugh because it's not in our front yard.



Here's a shot of our cozy, snow-covered house. Except that we weren't ready for cozy, snow-covered weather so it wasn't as charming as it looks.



On the other hand, unseasonable snow goes away quickly, as soon as seasonable weather returns. This was all that was left in our yard the next afternoon: the kids' "Snow Crow" -- a scarecrow made of snow.

And more importantly, the snow went away in time for Halloween. The next few pictures were taken last week, when Mom and I finished the kids' costumes in record time.

Here's Stuart, dressed -- obviously! -- as a Golden Snitch from Harry Potter. The Snitch is a small golden ball in the game of Quidditch. If the Seeker catches it during the game, his team automatically gets 150 points. It's very characteristic of Stuart to want to be the actual ball instead of the player who tries to catch it.

All three in their Halloween finery: Daphne is a Kitty, Stuart is a Golden Snitch, and Addie is an Auror, also from Harry Potter. Aurors are like the Wizarding Secret Police, who go after the really bad guys.


Back view, just to show off these amazing costumes. They are amazing, because Mom and I put them together in a weekend. Note Mom's handiwork with the reflective duct tape on Addie's Auror cloak. (Pip didn't have a costume. He ended up getting quite enough candy on Halloween anyway.)



Oh, and then there's the whole reason we had to scramble to get costumes ready at the last minute: the fact that I spent most of the month on a mattress in the dining room with 102-degree fever. This is why my mother bought a one-way ticket and came 1000 miles to my home.

-- SJ

When Sparrows Fall

After Katie came to visit, after Mom came to visit, before Darren left town for a few days, before I got sick for three weeks... I read a book.

I'd seen a description of When Sparrows Fall by Meg Mosley somewhere or other. Darren did, too, and he brought it home to me. It sounded like something I'd like, but I had my reservations. It's Christian fiction, see. And looked like it involved a romance. While there are lots of things I can't stand, Christian romance is way at the top of the list.

But I gave it a shot. And I liked it. Very much, in fact.

The premise is that Miranda, whose domineering husband died two years before, balks when the pastor of her small, controlling church announces that they're all moving to another state.

Before the pastor can coerce her to sell, she takes a bad fall. She'd just changed her will to give custody of her six children to her brother-in-law, Jack, in case something happened to her. Jack is a divorced English professor who met Miranda only once. He immediately drives out to see to the kids. His ideas are in direct conflict with many of Miranda's church's ideas (think: only-dresses, no caffeine or medicine, lots of kids, and wife obeys her husband in all things). But he's a good guy, he truly likes the kids, and he's truly concerned about Miranda.

She, meanwhile, wants to be free from all the rules and burdens, but one enormous secret weighs her down. If the secret gets out, she could lose her kids to the state foster care system. And the pastor, of course, knows the secret.

There is romance between Miranda and Jack, but it's handled as a natural progression as the story unfolds, and it's pleasing. You don't like Miranda's late husband, Carl, who was controlling and unkind; but the author manages to cast him in a sympathetic light as well. The story holds together logically (or maybe I was just so caught up by the end that I didn't care). The ending is possibly a little sunnier than in real life, but that suited me okay. And it was very satisfying to see Miranda slowly take charge of her own life again -- that was the real core of the story.

Anyone who has lived under the burdens of "standards" and "authority" should probably find this book a good read. I'm certainly happy to have found a Christian author who can write something other than piffle.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes, October 21, 2011

It's been a while, but here's a Seven Quick Takes for this week. More available at Conversion Diary.

1. Mam is here. The house is rejoicing. Sara is getting help as she recovers from 3 weeks of sickness (praise God, that seems to be gone now); the grandkids are getting a Grandma fix; and I am once again reminded that I am blessed beyond words in the mother-in-law I have.

2. Here's a funny link called "Never try to hide from the deacons." I laughed and shared this with several other deacons I know :)

3. An excellent post on worship from my mentor Joel Klampert. As a worship leader, I should probably re-read this one every week as I prepare the song set. A good reminder that worship is not how we feel, but an active focus on God and His redeeming work.

4. Addie came out to the living room last night to complain loudly that a forbidden item had somehow gotten into our house. It was a Walmart bag. She was distressed that a relic of the Evil Empire was in our pantry, among the Target bags.

5. I am going to be preaching for our church's celebration of All Saints Day on October 30. Theme: You are not alone. God's grace in Jesus Christ has saved a countless host of people with problems just like yours. (This post is mostly a warning for Sara, because it's normal for small electronics in our house to go on the blink for the week before whenever I preach.)

6. A good quote I came across in a devotional this week: "We must strive to apply the Good News to the ever-changing conditions of the world but, courageously and at all costs, we must resist the temptation to alter its content or reinterpret it in order to make it fit the spirit of the present age." John Paul the Great.

7. I got two major projects off my desk yesterday, which makes me feel much more able to enjoy this weekend. Hurray for two days off from work!

--DJ

Mundania 32

* My life recently has been feverish. Not feverish activity, since I spend the majority of my time laid out on a mattress in the dining room. No, I've had a persistent 102-degree fever for nearly three weeks now. Just a fever: no other symptoms.

* Well, no other symptoms except that I don't want anything sweet, but I dream about eating spaghetti and potato chips for the salt. That's pretty much a symptom for me.

* Yes, I've seen a doctor. No, he can't find a definite cause. Yes, I'll be tested again for Lyme's Disease. Yes, it might be the sort of viral infection that Stuart had last February, when he had a fever for about a month.

* It's easier on the household if it's the eight-year-old son who has this fever.

* Darren is working double-shift, keeping his head above surface at work and then rushing home to keep the household running. Yes, he's a superhero, in case anybody hadn't yet figured this out (hi, New Reader!).

* Thank God for friends. They've delivered meals, cleaned the house, babysat, done bedtime duty while Darren was out of town, called to talk to the kids, and sent me texts and Facebook messages.

* And on Wednesday, my mama is coming back up to stay with us until I'm better. As in, she bought just a one-way ticket.

* On a completely different note, back before I got sick (those hazy, bygone days), I wrote this article for Recovering Grace, the website devoted to examining the teachings and effects of Bill Gothard's IBLP and ATI programs.

* Well, what do you know, it's time for a little ibuprofen. Too bad it doesn't taste like Sour Cream & Onion potato chips.

-- SJ

Independence

As parents, our task is to raise our children to be self-sufficient, independent adults. And Pip says, "Getting right on it."


He decided he wanted more cinnamon toast, but no parent was available to get it. No problem! Pictured above is:

1. Buttered bread
2. A very large quantity of salt

Darren got out of the shower in time to see Phillip attempting to figure out the toaster.

So, there are a few bumps on the road to independence, but Pip will be there soon. Today, cinnamon toast -- tomorrow, the world! (Just as soon as he figures out the van.)

-- SJ

The World Rejoices

Thirty-eight years ago, the world rejoiced when a dark-haired little baby boy was born.

Well, okay, not the whole world. Just a few small pockets of world in Nova Scotia and various spots in the Northeast. The lucky people.

There was a young couple in the Deep South who didn't know it was a significant day. They had no idea that one day their little girl would grow up to marry that little boy. That's because the little girl wouldn't actually exist for another three-and-a-half years. So really, this Southern family doesn't have much to do with this story at this point. But I'm writing it, so we're in here anyway.

It hasn't been the most festive anniversary/birthday season we've ever had. I've been sick for twenty-three centuries, and today Darren developed a cold. But you know something about Darren? He doesn't really complain. He sees what needs to be done, and he does it. He cherishes his sick wife. Which is why, as more pockets of the world get to know him, more people rejoice for that October day 38 years ago.

And see why I'm so anxious to get a foothold in this story, even three and a half years before I actually was anybody? Who would want to miss out on a guy like this?

Happy Birthday, DJ. Love you!!

-- SJ

Eleven Years - A Good Start

Eleven years ago, I married my best friend. She is still my greatest treasure. We sat in bed tonight reading emails that we had exchanged in the month before we were married, and were pleasantly surprised at how little our feelings and attitudes have changed. It is a constant joy to me to be married to Sara.

Sad
When we're
Apart or
Too busy with
Life and job and kids
To talk, but
Together
Life's a
Joy.

--DJ

Eleven Years

1. Who
2. Would I
3. Be without
4. You? Who would you
5. Be apart from me?
6. Less love, less fun, less faith.
7. So let's stick together.
8. Let's make more faith, more fun, more love.
9. We've spent eleven years together.
10. Another eleven will be a
11. Good start on the journey to eternity.


Darren's gift to me was a commissioned painting by Rachel Estrada.
My gift to him was a tote bag with artwork from his favorite Christian artist.

I love you! You love me! We love each other! Happy anniversary, sweetheart.

-- SJ

Pip's ABCs

Two important items:

1. We found our camera.

2. This post lets me see that I can post videos

3. One more important item

4. Pip is really cute.

5. Also, he's a Jones kid, which means that he can't say more than a dozen words, but he already thinks he knows the alphabet.

6. This is more than two items. Did you notice?

-- SJ

Playing with Destiny

Every now and then, I like to play around with my destiny.

Nearly eleven years of marriage has shaped who I am today. If I'd married a different sort of man, I wonder, how would I be different?

Married to someone less bookish and more outdoorsy, perhaps I would be more into gardening and would possibly even spend the night in a tent. If I lived with a sports nut, I could see myself cultivating a taste for football or soccer. A man with a fiery personality could stoke my own tendency to rant and rave. If I married a man who was less romantic, I probably wouldn't miss the surprise dates and the special gifts. Pfft, right.

I play the game with Darren's life, too. With a foodie wife, he'd have long conversations about delicious meals they'd enjoyed. With a politically savvy wife, he might be involved in local elections and attend county supervisor meetings. Married to a high achieving woman who reveled in busy, crazy, colorful life, he'd crawl into his cave and never come out. So just back off, woman. He's mine.

Although it's fun to speculate, I'm pretty happy with the person I've grown into. As Elizabeth said of Darcy, in essentials I'm still very much the same; it's just that Darren has smoothed out and filled up rough places in my personality.

I was thinking of the Destiny Game today after reading this article by Debi Pearl.* The following article, written in Debi's engaging style, is yet another reason why I avoid their toxic take on life.

An excerpt:

As Adam was created in God’s image, Eve was created in Adam’s image. God could have shaped two clay figures and breathed life into both, but he chose to take the woman from the man’s own flesh and bone. I have come to see that tiered process as very significant, making it consistent with nature that the woman should be the helper in the chain of command.

God did not create women as he did men, strongly fixed in one type or another. Being created in the image of man, we are more muted and flexible in our types.

She goes on to explain that it's the woman's job to "blend her life" into that of her man's. What she does, how she dresses, how she acts depends on what her husband needs her to be. In fact, it becomes very clear that Debi herself has no real conception of who she is apart from what she does and who her husband is. The only constant is that she "loves God." Otherwise, she is flexible, a "kaleidoscope of colors" designed to "fashion her life" into what her husband "needs her to be."

This thinking is delivered as the Biblical way to live. It's fed to young women who, in the Pearl community, have only marriage to look forward to as their calling in life. No wonder these young ladies are "unnerved by the burdens of marriage." Nothing like the prospect of losing your personhood to fill you with longing and joy!

I've had to adapt and change to live with Darren. But he's adapted and changed for me, too. I can play the Destiny Game out of curiosity, but I rest in the security that Darren married me for who I am, not for what I would do for him.

-- SJ

* I'm officially staking my flag in the anti-Pearl camp. What good they have to say isn't worth the bad theology, worse philosophy, and utter arrogance that they peddle. I've mentioned my allergy to the Pearls' child-rearing ideas before.

When accused that his methods -- touted as the only Biblical way to discipline, by the way -- led to the death of young Lydia Schatz, this was Michael Pearl's response.

Daphne's Praise Song

Daphne sat down at the piano and "made a song by playing three notes in beautiful patterns to make a tune." Then she put praise words to her music, which I took from dictation. In my opinion, the first line should be cast in gold:


Oh, Lord
How are you doing in Heaven?

Oh, Lord,
How I love how you take care of me.

Oh,
All the days, I look up, and pray

So loving!
I’m so loving to You!

Oh, Lord
How can You be my Shepherd?

Oh, Lord
You are my Father in Heaven!

-- DMJ

Mundania 31

* September 11, 2001 didn't profoundly change the way I live. I didn't ignore it -- who could? Even with no internet access (we had only dial-up, and all the servers were jammed) and a tiny TV with very fuzzy access, I followed the story like everybody else. I watched and cried and held my three-month-old baby, shattered at the thought that there were evil people who wouldn't take mercy even on a mother with a child. A month later I walked through airport security, lugging Addie's impossibly heavy carseat, past soldiers with automatic rifles, on my way to my sister's wedding. I cried again.

But as for realizing life's uncertainty, facing the fact that there was evil in the world, and appreciating every day of life I had... I already lived like that. I lost two fathers by the time I was twenty. I grew up Baptist, which considers everybody capable of terrorism unless redirected at an early age. I come from a very down-to-earth family that doesn't rage against the cosmos very often. (Well, we do, but only about topics like stupid baby names and Daylight Savings Time.)

There aren't soldiers in my family, and DC, PA, and NY don't have anything to do with our daily lives.

I did let go of the thought that I need to do all the right things so God will protect me, and that it's up to me to defend God from critics. If He's the God of all the Universe, He can handle His own arguments.

Ultimately, the attacks rocked my world, but not my foundations.

* We start school today. I'm a mixture of excitement and dread. Addie and Stuart are doing fourth/fifth/sixth grade (homeschooling is too flexible for The System, which is part of my mission statement), and I'm feeling the weight of responsibility. We're doing two Alpha-Omega SoS classes and Teaching Textbooks (also computer-based) for math, freeing me of preparation and teaching in three subjects.

Daphne starts kindergarten/first grade/second grade. Maybe instead of "flexible," homeschoolers should be considered "fluid."

* Men who have time to listen to podcasts (as opposed to me, a woman who has no time to listen to podcasts): check out my friend Mike's "The Married Man Podcast" on Facebook. As he and his buddies say, they're not licensed counselors, but they ARE all happily married so that counts for something.

* In the last two weeks, Phillip's vocabulary has expanded from two words (Mama, Dada) to at least seven: ball, juice, bee, yeah, no (which he says as "mo"), cheese, fish, and -- my favorite -- "Diddy" for Addie.

* What he can't say is, "Oh, Mama, here's where I put the camera when I played with it last week and lost it."

* In other news, we lost the new camera we bought two weeks ago. This replaced the one we broke on vacation in June. Which replaced the one we lost back this winter. Now my friend Deidre understands why I reacted with horror when she offered to let me borrow their camera to take on a day trip with us.

-- SJ

Top Five Things About Daphne

1. She was the baby who came after two and a half years of wondering if there would be any more babies.

2. Her first word was "blue."

3. She began reading at age 3.

4. She has sparkly blue eyes, like her Aunt Lindsay. Her daddy often succumbs to the effect of those eyes.

5. She is self-motivated, determined, and will do great things in life. Don't get in her way.

Happy birthday to Daphne -- our bright, chattery, affectionate little firecracker!


(Photo by Katie. Outfit by Addie.)

-- SJ, DJ, AMJ, SMJ, PGJ

Welcome To Hogwarts

HI! This is Katie. I'm doing a guest blog post. Isn't that cool? You'll probably like it if you like Harry Potter, and I'm sure you'll like it if you're a grandparent. ;) Click on the links to see pictures.

Addie and Stuart just read the Harry Potter series. We've been talking about HP non-stop. It's been very fun to have four other people in the same house to talk about it with.

The other day Stuart said, "I wish I could take a Care Of Magical Creatures class...HEY! We should play Harry Potter!" And so began the wand carving and spell list studying. We even made our own quills. Stuart taught C.O.M.C. outside, where he invented a new creature called Bloofies (bright colored fuzzy craft pom-poms). He had their diet, special abilities, and other aspects all laid out (which we wrote down.) Addie took over Charms. Then I taught Potions, which involved baking soda and vinegar along with other ingredients, and Arithmancy. The neighbors, Mollie and Evan, showed up with magic books and their own wands. Mollie (who acts and looks strikingly like my idea of book-Hermione, and a younger version of me) taught Divinations, DADA, and Transfiguration. Aunt Sara taught Ancient Runes (It was a very detailed, FUN lesson. She said it was an intro to dungeons and dragons, of a sort). We played this game for days, all morning. It's the most fun I've had in years. All the kids agreed, obviously. And here's a cute picture of a girl with her wand. Don't cross her. :)

An addition to the post-

I'm having a wonderful visit and I love spending time with my Aunt Sara. My cousins are cute and funny and Uncle Darren is very nice and soft-spoken, as always. However, Aunt Sara is who I love talking to. :) I don't want to leave.

Also- WE HAD AN EARTHQUAKE TODAY AND I WAS REALLY EXCITED. (I'm beginning to wonder if I have some strange affinity with natural disasters...)

Mundania 30

I opened a "new post" window and went away. Here I am back, and the Blog Fairy hasn't even *tried* to write anything. Guess I'll have to bail her out again.

Katie's visiting this week.

I left the computer for a while again, and when I came back, this is still all there was. My guess is that the Blog Fairy spent most of that time on Facebook talking about the earthquake.

Let's give this another shot.

* Katie's visiting this week. She's been up here four or five times, but this trip is special because this year she's seventeen. Why is that special? Because I was seventeen when she was born, so this year is a milestone for us. And it's a reward for being a young aunt that my kids now have an older cousin to entertain them.

* And boy are they entertained. I leave the kids with Katie so I can nap or run over town (a luxury I'm thoroughly enjoying). When I come back, I never know what I'll find. Bread baking? Check. Fun games in progress? Check. Dish soap on the trampoline? Check. Harry Potter movie and popcorn ten minutes before lunch? Check. Corn starch and cherry drink powder, mixed with water and smeared on various body parts to look like bloody wounds? Check. My predictable and stable routine has gotten shaken up like, well, like an earthquake. It's a good way to end summer.

* Summer is ending. I'm mourning it because autumn means that February is that much closer.

* Darren and I skipped our regular trip to the gym last night so we could look up curriculum options. I'm teaching first, fourth, and fifth grades this year. It's the first year that I've really felt anxious about whether my kids will get everything they need. We're trying out some video and online classes, which I hope will give A&S a break from Hearing My Voice All The Time, and spare me some preparation time.

* I prefer sitting close to Darren with a netbook between us, discussing schooling ideas, than exercising at the gym. Just to tell you, as Daphne would say.

* Katie presented us with the chance to go out overnight. I was fighting a cold, but heck, I can be sick anytime. Not like I can go out overnight with Darren anytime. We went anyway. We had a great time -- our favorite pastime is being together, which makes it easy to plan dates. Meanwhile, Katie hosted what turned into an epic slumber party for five kids (Mollie stayed over). Pip didn't go to sleep till 10, Daphne till 1, and the rest of them till 3. It was THE BEST TIME EVERRRR!, from all reports. Hey, I didn't have to stay up with a bunch of jazzed kids, so I was good.

* Since Katie is vegetarian, I had to plan my meals to include her. I was pleased to find out that we could convert to mostly vegetarian without a lot of effort. Mostly. We're having beef stew tonight.

* Oh, and there really was an earthquake. Katie and I were in the kitchen just before 2:00 when both of us noticed the house was shaking. When I felt the floor shake in a different direction from the counter, my heart rate went up. We stared at each other for fully fifteen seconds, waiting for it to subside. Katie asked, "Was that an earthquake?" I said, "I don't know, but give me about seven minutes, and I'll check Facebook." Darren had posted about it within two minutes. The next hour was a hot one on Facebook.

Katie was thrilled and hoped for some aftershocks. I had six kids in the house and thought there had been plenty enough excitement. The quake registered 5.8 at the epicenter, which was about 85 miles south of here. Here are some pictures of the aftermath.

* As for other pictures, I'll have to steal some from Katie.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes, August 19, 2011

Wow, this is the 3rd 7 Quick Takes post I've done in a row. I feel almost like a blogger! --DJ

Other 7 Quick Takes here.

1. We went to Cracker Barrel on Wednesday for dinner, and for the first time in my life, I won the peg game. Hurray for me!

2. Jeremy Swanson and I were emailing comments on NPR's Top 100 Fantasy/Sci Fi list back and forth. I said I liked Animal Farm better than 1984. His comment: "All dystopias are equal, but some are more equal than others." Score for Jeremy.

3. Colds always seem to come at the most inopportune time. Like the day before we're getting to go out on an overnight date, Sara comes down with one. [insert scream here]

4. The detective class I was listening to last week was interesting, but I kept wanting more analysis. She would toss off comments like "some say" or "a few critics argue," but would never explain their arguments or the response to them.

5. On the lecturer's recommendation, I tried a mystery about an actor who solves cases. So far, I'm half way through the book and not inclined to finish, as he's spent most of his time either (a) wanting a drink; (b) drunk; or (c) hungover. He's also engaged in intimate relations with 2 different women, neither of which he's married to, and attempted another one, but was too drunk. Not exactly the type of guy I want to hang out with. The mystery is from the 1970s, a decade I associate with unpleasant literature.

6. I'm back finishing up the Aquinas lectures now, listening to the section on Ethics, which is much easier to comprehend than Metaphysics.

7. And here is a funny post about Aquinas as a young child.

That's all. Work is hectic this week.

The Help

I've seen three movies this summer. Three! Wow, I feel practically mainstream! I'll look back on 2011 and say, "Oh, yeah, that year! I saw *three* of the movies that came out that year!"

This past Sunday, I saw The Help, based on the novel from a couple of years ago. I went with Nina, who was the one who gave me the book to read; Nina's sister Rebecca, who was the one who gave Nina the book to read; and my niece Katie, who hasn't read it but we let her in our club anyway.

I was cautiously excited. I liked the book, which told the story of three women in Jackson, Mississippi in 1963. Skeeter is an educated white woman who wants to get the attention of Harper and Row Publishing in New York, so she decides to interview Abileen and Minnie, two black maids. Skeeter, of course, has no idea how subversive her book would be, and how dangerous for Abileen and Minnie to participate. But they eventually sit down and write it, and the ensuing uproar takes down the reigning Queen Bee, Hilly Holbrook.

The movie did justice to the book. There was a lot to laugh at, and a few places where I teared up. The whole film was shot in bright colors and made Mississippi look like a beautiful place to be. Of course, Katie and I already thought it was a beautiful place to be, but it's in our blood.

The movie also made the clothes look gorgeous, which made me laugh afterward. I've seen those clothes in photographs from the time, and I know very well that they didn't look that flattering and elegant. Well, maybe on long-legged, trim-waisted actresses, they do. But on normal people, only a very few could wear those dresses with cinched waists and flared skirts; or even worse, the tailored, straight sheaths. My mom could wear the sheaths when she was that age, but I bet I couldn't.

Only a couple of quibbles. During one scene, set outside under a full-green summertime tree, Skeeter says, "Just a minute. Let me get my sweater." Katie and I said, "A SWEATER? What FOR?"

In another scene, Skeeter is typing a newsletter. The point of the scene is that she's supposed to be typing "go by the Holbrooks' and drop off your old coats," but when the newsletter comes out, it says, "go by the Holbrooks' and drop off your old commodes." But I was distracted from the drama of the moment because what Skeeter actually typed was, "Go by the Holbrook's..." It's painful to see a twenty-foot misplaced apostrophe. There's no escaping it.

And why is it that in movieland you can get away with snapping off a parting shot and then flouncing out of the room? You can't do that in real life. In The Help, they were firing off exit lines right and left, until it started to get funny.

Oh! And you also learn from movies that at three times in history, everybody stood around the living room TV, stock still, to watch historical events unfold: Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech; JFK's assassination; and the first man on the moon. I'm glad to say that this ritual was observed in Mississippi in 1963, too (the assassination).

By and large, though, I enjoyed the movie. The women were fun to watch -- whether Minnie's sassiness or Hilly's fake-sweet smiles. Skeeter (Emma Stone) was beautiful, which was the only thing glaringly out of character. In the book, Skeeter is awkward and not very pretty, with wildly frizzy hair. In the movie, women would pay a lot of money to have Stone's eyes and perfectly-ringletted hair. But the whole movie was eye-candy, so no need to spoil the view with, you know, real-looking women.

And the most fun thing? Seeing it with four other women, because afterward we stood around and talked about it. Did you hear that, Darren? We talked about it. My friend Michele went a step farther: she talked to other people coming out of the theater. It seriously enhances the experience. You should try it sometimes, MEN.

I'm glad I saw the movie. You should go see it, too.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes, August 12, 2011

This post is from Darren, not Sara. Just so everyone knows not to expect brilliant writing on the internal workings of our family :)

1. Yesterday Stuart decided to clean his room. When Stuart gets going on cleaning, he's really good and efficient at it. He even got the vacuum cleaner out on his own initiative and vacuumed the room.

Later, Sara went to use the vacuum. It didn't suck anything up. After watching her poke around it for a while in increasing frustration, Stuart commented, "Oh, sorry about vacuuming up the sock." Sure enough. There was a sock in it.

In an amazing display of restraint, Sara did not make Stuart eat the sock.

2. I am bad about working on Scripture memory, but I realized the other night when I couldn't get to sleep that I needed to start memorizing a passage. So I've started on Ephesians 2 (because I like 2:8-9 so much). Paul needed classes in how to use periods. That's my opinion, anyway.

3. Daphne has started having difficulty staying in her room when it's bedtime. She's such a people person that she hates being all by herself for the 45 minutes it takes her to fall asleep.

4. I found this post by John Wright called "Harry Potter and the Christian Magicians" fascinating. I'm not one who's particularly attracted to the occult, even though I read a lot of fantasy, but I agree with him that I don't just laugh off the idea. I did appreciate his viewpoint of modern paganism as essentially technological, rather than mystical.

5. Sara and I had a visit recently with a young person who is trying to find his place in God's will. A lot of it was just listening. After he left, Sara and I agreed that we both kept wondering if we'd said the right things, and even more importantly, whether he really heard anything that we said. I feel much more confident giving legal advice than life advice. As convoluted as the law can be, it's nothing compared to the intricacy of navigating your 20s.

6. This week I've been listening to a CD class on detective fiction. After the St. Thomas Aquinas class, this one seems pretty lightweight. There's not much analysis of the books, but it's an interesting introduction. I've picked up a couple recommendations. I was disappointed that in the lecture on police procedurals, the professor didn't mention Dell Shannon. I really enjoy her books.

7. NPR had a poll recently where people could vote for the top 10 best fantasy/science fiction books. They released the list of the top 100 this week. Here are my comments on the top 10:

1. The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy, by J.R.R. Tolkien. Yes. Absolutely.
2. The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, by Douglas Adams. It should be in the top 10, but I can't stand it. Or the sequels.
3. Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card. This is one of my all-time favorites. I actually don't much like Card's other books, but this one is amazing.
4. The Dune Chronicles, by Frank Herbert. Many people noted, and I agree, that if this is just Dune, the first book, it gets high billing (in fact, I'd rate it #2 probably). But the sequels are dumb.
5. A Song Of Ice And Fire Series, by George R. R. Martin. Too grim for me, at least the first time I tried.
6. 1984, by George Orwell. See my comments to #2. Good book, glad I read it, don't plan to read it again until the kids are in high school and I read it with them.
7. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. Never read it.
8. The Foundation Trilogy, by Isaac Asimov. Definitely belongs in the top 10. See my comments on Dune - I didn't like the sequels or attempted prequels to this one at all.
9. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley. I've never read this one. Not a big fan of dystopias.
10. American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. I've never read this one either, but it's on my list now.

And that's it for today. More 7 Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

--DJ

Dating Darren

Figuring that it was about time for Darren to get some special treatment, I took him out on a Darren Date yesterday.

(The kids happily waved us away; they got to spend the evening with Vanessa, which all four of them consider an improvement on daily life. Daphne frequently expresses the wish that Vanessa would move in with us, so she could always put Daphne to bed.)

Darren always defers to what I want to do when we go out, so this time I planned things that he never gets to do because I'm the only girl he ever goes out with. First, we ate at Five Guys. They serve hamburgers. Oh, some other things too, like fries (in paper cups) and pounds of roasted peanuts. But it's mostly burgers. It's not my favorite place to eat, and I think that's partly because of the peanuts. Piles and piles of peanuts, and not a single one boiled. They're all roasted. It's such a waste of space. But Darren loves it, and I admit the burgers are good. The patties fall apart, which Darren says indicates more beef than soy product.
Then we saw Cowboys & Aliens. Darren wanted to see it, and enjoyed it thoroughly. I didn't care if I ever saw it, but I ended up enjoying it, too. I liked how they brought out all the usual Western props: grizzled country preacher (he stitches up the hero's wound and breaks the thread with his teeth); fussy bartender/doctor (wears glasses, an apron, and can't shoot a gun); cruel ranch boss who controls the town (Harrison Ford); plucky Western woman who wears a holster slung across her dress (she gets emancipated later and then wears buckskin trousers); calm and wise Native warriors; and lastly, strong and silent hero (Daniel Craig, who makes for very easy lookin' with his blue eyes and broad shoulders).

But then the story throws in advanced technology and aliens, which mixes up the tropes a little bit. The hero leaps from a galloping horse to a moving... no, not train. A low-flying spaceship. The aliens rope running... no, not cattle, but people. The cowboys and indians meet in battle... together to fight the aliens. It was fun.

It was a little scary in parts. And there were a few gaping plotholes. (Why would an alien race waste time capturing individual humans when they could just BLOW US UP?) There was some stock Hollywood theology: they just never quite get it, but they get points for effort. And the final message of the movie, as everyone is living happily in the newly-revived mining town (Old West towns can be obliterated at the beginning, but they spontaneously regenerate by the end) is clearly, "Lots of gold makes everybody good hard workers, full of integrity, and happy!" Who can dislike a promise like that?

As usual, I spend far too much time on a throwaway movie. I should have let Darren write about it. He would have had to stand blankly for a moment, because he hasn't even THOUGHT about it since we got out of the theater, and then he'd say, "It was pretty good." Which sums it up.

The date, however, was very good.

-- SJ

7 Quick Takes, August 5, 2011

1. Memo to whichever part of my mind is responsible for giving me dreams when I'm stressed: Dear mind, the normal stress-dream about running through airports never finding my gate is bad enough. I do not approve of the new version where I find the gate, get on the plane -- and then it crashes. Bad subconscious!

2. Vehicle inspections are a racket.

3. Our van is now (after >$1000) fully inspected and good to go for another year.

4. Hear that, van? ANOTHER YEAR. PLEASE! BE GOOD TO US IN THIS REGARD!!

5. I've never been a fan of philosophy courses, but I found one at the local library that I'm listening to. "The Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas" by Peter Kreeft. So far it's very good - I have read several of Kreeft's books and liked them very much. I keep having to rewind sections to listen to, though; even with a good teacher, Aquinas is not easy going.

6. I love the early morning, when it's just Phillip and me up, listening to morning prayer. He's very cuddly. Until he wakes up a bit more and gets ultra-wiggly.

7. Prayer would be appreciated for my friend Jim, who is suffering from long-term illness, and Ruth, who will probably be having a premature baby today.

--DJ

Other 7 Quick Takes here.

HP7 II: It All Ended

Darren and I both got to see Harry Potter 7 Part 2 yesterday. I've been mulling it over ever since. Darren stopped thinking about it after it was over. This is why he watches more movies than I do.

Here are some of our impressions. There are spoilers here and there if you don't know the story. It's also fairly incomprehensible if you don't know the story, although at least I didn't use terms like "squib" and "polyjuice potion."

1. We both enjoyed the movie.

1.5. (because I don't want to change subsequent numbers) I got to see it with Deidre and Tulip. Tulip had already seen it: she attended a 22-hour Harry Potter-a-thon at the theater. They watched all seven movies, leading up to the midnight release of the eighth. I don't think she's insane. I know other people who would do that. On second thought, maybe I just know several insane people.

2. The screenwriters snipped, rearranged, and changed quite a bit in the climax. It was for the better. I liked the climax in the book, but onscreen it would have fallen with an audible thud.

3. Neville. Wow. In the beginning of the story, he was short, timid, and basically comic relief. By the end, he's organizing the resistance within Hogwarts, wielding a sword, and is pretty nice to look at, too.

4. I suppose -- suppose -- it was worth going through seven and a half movies of Hermione being a shrew just to see her finally smile at Ron in this one.

5. Ron had some good ideas! Finally!

5.5. Deidre and Tulip disagreed with me over who was more attractive. They said that Harry isn't good-looking at all, but Ron was pretty hot. Whatever. However, I did concede after this movie that Ron is probably the better kisser.

6. From DJ: Griphook the goblin was a great villain. We'd forgotten his treachery so it was a nasty shock.

7. From DJ: The dragon didn't simply take off smoothly in the air: it lurched and stumbled. It looked like a real dragon.

8. Both of us teared up several times, mostly during the Snape-Lily flashbacks. Especially her death. Snape is, of course, awesome. The movie leaves you wondering why the heck Lily chose James. In the book, you get more of a sense of Snape's antisocial behavior and his deep prejudice against half-bloods.

9. The scene in the forest, when Harry uses the Resurrection stone to see James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius... well, maybe some tears there, too.

10. Hermione is too thin for her height. Her eating habits evidently didn't improve over 19 years.

10. Ginny might be Harry's one true love, but I'll bet she had to work her wedding date around Ron and Hermione.

11. One of my favorite characters is Bellatrix, and Helena Bonham Carter does her brilliantly. This time it was fun watching Bonham Carter act as Hermione acting like Bellatrix.

12. The actor playing Voldemort did a marvelous job showing how You-Know-Who becomes frailer and more desperate throughout the movie. But he never overdoes it, when Voldemort would have been all too easy to overdo.

13. I was sorry that the story required Dumbledore to appear again. I hate the way this actor (Michael Gambon, who stepped in after Richard Harris died) interprets that character, and I'm always happier when he's offscreen.

14. I mean, seriously. His Dumbledore has no vestige of humor, doesn't project an air of calm authority and concern, has none of the warmth and sparkle that Dumbledore is supposed to have. Did the director not catch onto this problem somewhere around Movie 3?

15. My favorite lines were both delivered by Professor McGonnagal (Maggie Smith lights up the screen anytime she appears). The first one, after she's activated stone knights to protect the school, with a little giggle: "I have always wanted to use that spell!" Second, speaking to Professor Flitwick, who refers to "You-Know-Who": "It's Voldemort. Use his name. He's going to kill you whatever you call him."

16. It wasn't in the book, but DJ and I both liked the Neville and Luna pairing at the end.

17. Satisfying end to a decade-long story. Yay Harry Potter!

-- SJ and DJ

From the Archives

A few years ago, I tried my hand at an anonymous blog. Most of my readers were people I borrowed from a friend who also has an anonymous blog. It was fun because I could write with more abandon; it was too much work because this is the blog where my heart is.

Here are a few posts I wrote at the time, in 2008. I just rediscovered them and they made me laugh. Addie (Ladybug) was 6; Stuart (Titan) was 5; and Daphne (Dilly) was one and a half. Darren is August, and I am Mairzy.

Sickness -- Hurray!
Ladybug is sick again. She's lying on the couch having the stomach-bug equivalent of a celebratory party.

"Ooohh!" (Moaning with her eyes closed, but checking our reaction through a tiny slit of eye.) "I'm really, really sick. I need to go to the hospital!"

"You don't have a fever, honey. You're not sick enough to go the hospital."

"I AM sick enough! I won't last the night! Tomorrow you won't have me with you anymore!"

"Would you like some water? And I'll pray for you."

"I won't last the the night, I tell you!"

Daddy prays for her, during which she moans pathetically. Then he announces it's storytime (the usual bedtime routine). Ladybug moans louder.

"I won't last through storytime!"

At August's request, I'm going to Google the symptoms of appendicitis. But we think that involves a fever and pain, not an upset stomach and a dramatic six-year-old.

***

Food Fights

I thoroughly enjoy cooking, but I'm not a "foodie." When I get in the kitchen to create, I make good, familiar food: Italian, barbecue, and close enough to authentic Southern to taste good but not actually kill you. I don't often branch out into exotic dishes that involve, say, eggplant and saffron.

The other day, I was feeling bold and creative. I found a bottle of red cooking wine in our pantry. (Surely this gives you an idea of how unsurprising my cooking is, if red wine is a daring choice.) I made up a red-wine-honey-rosemary sauce, poured it over chicken breasts, and let it simmer. August, I knew, would be most impressed.

My children were not. Ladybug wandered into the kitchen and wrinkled her nose. "What do I SMELL?" I am still training my children that criticizing Mama's cooking is walking really close to the death penalty. I snapped, "It's not for you. I'm cooking broccoli for you and Titan." They love broccoli (bragging here) with butter and dill weed.

Not deflected, Ladybug wailed, "It smells like mud soup!"

"Get out of the kitchen."

A few minutes later, as the savory aroma and red wine and rosemary filled the kitchen, Titan ran through.

A word about Titan. He's lucky that he isn't known on this blog as "Upchucky." This child has always had a massive gag reflex. Before Titan was born, I had a horror of vomit. Thanks to him, that's a fear I've confronted and conquered. It's getting better as he gets older, but I'm looking forward to turning the care and cleaning of him over to his wife.

So, Titan ran through the kitchen. "Something smells bad!" he wailed.

"Go out of the kitchen!"

Titan clapped a hand over his nose, ran into the back room with the new carpet, and... threw up.

So the chicken almost burned while I desperately scrubbed regurgitated goldfish crackers from the new carpet (vinegar and water does the trick). I saved supper in time for August to come home and say, "Mm, something smells good!"

I banged a few pans around. Meanwhile, Ladybug strolled in. "Do you smell that, Daddy? What we're having for supper is broccoli and something that won't taste very good."

August made Ladybug apologize to me. The next night I made pizza

Bitter Cold

It was cold today. Anytime we had to go out, we rushed as quickly as possible to the next available shelter. At church we all looked at each other and shivered and said, "It's bitter outside!"

This afternoon, we got an email from August's grandmother in Canada. "I remember the day your dad was born," she wrote (it being my father-in-law's birthday). "It was 22 degrees below freezing on the Fahrenheit scale."

August and I looked at each other and shivered and said, "It was 20 degrees ABOVE freezing today." That's a forty-degree difference. That's the difference between 70 and 30. Between spring and winter.

Suddenly I feel like going outside and sunbathing on the trampoline.

-- SJ

Love, Sara

Dear Mom,

When I was young, I thought it was a compliment to tell you that something "tastes like restaurant food." Because I'd eat something in a restaurant but wouldn't touch it at home. I repent in sackcloth and ashes.

Love, Sara.

***

Dear New Camera,

I wonder what crime a camera has to commit to be sentenced to our house. As you were shipped off in your brand-new plastic packaging, mere weeks ago, did they tell you what happened to the last couple of cameras who came here? One died slowly. The other simply vanished one day and has never been seen again.

Maybe you didn't know. Maybe you lived in blissful innocence until that moment when you got sat on. I like to think so.

Love, Sara.

***
Dear Sid Fleischman,

I grew up loving your Josh McBroom books. Recently I discovered several others of your children's books. And yesterday I found your autobiography, which is readable and charming.

Yesterday I also found out that you died last year at the age of 90. I'm mourning our loss, sir.

Love, Sara.

***
Dear Designers of Women's Clothes,

Women need pockets too, you know.

Love, Sara.

Birth Story Haikus

If you read the subject title three or four times, thinking, "Whaaa...?!" while your flight instinct kicks in, probably this doesn't qualify as "fun" for you. You may be excused.

As a mother, I am interested in others' birth stories, and I like telling mine. I can't help it. Giving birth was an event that changed me and introduced me to a brand-new person... on four different occasions. You just don't shrug something like that off.

As a writer, I'm all for well-edited stories. Birth stories can go on entirely too long, with entirely too much detail. There's also no natural stopping place: once you've finished the first birth story, you can't help but move to the second. And third. And beyond.

Conversion Diary offers a balance between the mother and the writer: birth stories in haiku. (Syllable count is 5-7-5, if you need reminding.) This way you can capture the highlights of each birth and still have friends after you're done.

Here are my four. Possibly too much information for some, but I did try to keep it readable:

Baby #1
Married for nine months.
First labor’s always long, right?
Four and a half hours!

Baby #2
This one will be fast!
Oops, sunny-side-up baby.
Twelve hours and section.

Baby #3
All set for VBAC
Midwife feels baby’s bottom
Breech! Section again.

Baby #4
Scheduled c-section
Peaceful, joking with doctors.
Three happy siblings.

-- SJ

Please! You do it too! (And dads can contribute too. I think I'll get Darren to compose an ode to the poison ivy on his hands, right where I was squeezing during Baby #1.)

Top Ten Things to Know About Addie

10. When she was born, we apologized to her. We had to learn how to be parents, and she was our first test subject.

9. She was a quirky baby and toddler who hated loud noises, wasn't interested in other children, and staged nuclear meltdowns over sudden changes in plans. She taught us to be gentle and careful parents.

8. She didn't talk until she was two and a half. Her first intelligible sounds were repeating the alphabet after me.

7. When she did talk, daily conversation got a whole lot weirder.

6. I spent six months teaching her to read at age 5. Then she struck off on her own and read "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz."

5. She enjoys the drama of being sick. It's unfortunate that she has a very robust constitution.

4. She has a powerful sweet tooth.

3. She really wants to do good and be good.

2. She has grown into a helpful young woman who mentors Daphne and helps me keep tabs on Pip.

1. Today she turns ten years old. We're celebrating!

The Joneses Go North, Part 1

It had been six years since we were last in Nova Scotia, so a trip north was in order.

(If I had read that sentence anytime before November 1999, I'd have thought, "It's been twenty-two years since I was last in Nova Scotia, and who cares?" There's a lot more to my life since Darren became part of it.)

We actually fit two trips into one -- which, by the way, I highly recommend doing if you enjoy packing, repacking, shipping a box of clothes up ahead of you, shuffling, driving, repacking, gambling on the weather, and living out of backpacks for ten days. We gathered with all of Darren's immediate family and some of his extended family in Maine. Then we drove across the Canadian border, stayed with his parents, and visited his grandparents.

Then we came home.

The trip home took a total of twenty-one hours (split into two days), so I gave that line its own paragraph.

This time we tried something new: we took the train from D.C. to Boston:

Boarded and ready to roll.

We are now officially Train People. It costs about the same as flying, but it's half the hassle. Technically it takes longer, yes, but you can read a book, stretch your legs, take a nap, or shift in your seat without violating four other people's personal space. And there's so much to look at outside! Even the industrial areas of cities is more interesting than clouds. I now see why my mom always takes the train up to see us.

Happily speeding along the tracks.

(From Boston to Portland, we took the bus. That was far less enchanting and I didn't take any pictures.)

In Maine, we stayed at Shiloh. For Darren's side of the family, that's all you have to say. For the rest of the world, "Shiloh" needs more explanation. Shiloh is a large, rambling building built in 1897 (96? 98? Sometime around then). Its most distinctive feature is the square tower with a crown on top. (Here are some pictures of Shiloh as it was in the past. Now only the front building remains.)

It was built as a church and a missionary school, so as you climb the narrow spiral staircases, you keep happening upon bedrooms. Those bedrooms open into more bedrooms, and you look around the corner and find yet more bedrooms. I was delighted with Shiloh the first time I saw it, and our kids certainly weren't disappointed either. The cousins got to choose their own rooms, and four of them (Tucker, Jack, Stuart, and Daphne) liked the idea of dorm life:

The Cousin Dorm


While in Maine, we started out for the zoo but got rained out. So we went to the Children's Museum of Maine instead. It was an acceptable substitute:

Chloe looking at the honey bees. Phillip is in the background. We didn't have to say "No, don't touch that!" at this museum.


Tucker dressed as a firefighter! His hands are, anyway.

Stuart obligingly smiling for the camera. Note the long sleeves. It was, after all, only June. (A little Southern sarcasm there.)

Phillip in the toddler playground, a fun and stimulating enclosed area that kept him amused for about six minutes.


Also while in Maine, everyone went to Uncle Rick and Aunt Kath's place on the lake. I don't have pictures because "everyone" doesn't include Darren, me, or Pip. Travel-weary (and fighting a cold, in Darren's case), we stayed at Shiloh. We were grateful for family who allowed our older three to enjoy kayaking, boat rides, and fishing despite our exhaustion.

I don't have pictures, but I do have a haiku from the last time we visited Uncle Rick and Aunt Kath, in 2004:

Life Is Bitter: A Poem in Haiku
Inspired by Addie Jones

I stand on the shore
As they sail away from me.
My tears stream freely.

They would not take me
They said there was no more room.
But Jed got to go.

Ah, life is bitter,
For I wanted to be there,
In the boat with them.

I stand on the shore
As they sail away from me.
I see Jed waving.

(This time, not only did all the cousins get to go out a couple of times, but they all got to steer the boat.)

More to come...