Mothers In Balance

I'm probably one of the luckiest women living, in that I have a wonderful mother and equally wonderful mother-in-law. Both of them are important to my growth as a person and a mother, which is actually rather funny because they're very different women. I was comparing them in my head the other day, and the list comes out looking like "How to Use Your Mothers To Balance Your Life."

My mother is reserved, to the point that she indimidates people because she doesn't chat and chatter.
My mother-in-law will talk to anyone, anywhere.

My mother-in-law heaps praise upon me, so I'm always guaranteed to feel good about myself after talking with her.
My mother laughs me out of my conceits.

My mother can't watch a movie without pointing out flaws in the script.
My mother-in-law rewinds scenes just to enjoy them more fully.

My mother-in-law likes to talk out issues so that they're resolved and everyone understands everyone else.
My mother assumes I'll just get over it.

My mother, as a dessert, would be a lemon pie: sweet, but rather tart, and no fluffy meringue on top.
My mother-in-law, as a dessert, would be trifle: lots of sweetness, some good gooey filling, and no-nonsense cake bits to keep everything together.

And both of them love me, probably in excess of what I actually deserve.

-- SJ

Of Books (and not a post by DJ, amazingly)

The book I mentioned in my previous post is called "Strapped," written by Tamara Draut. I'm not very far into it -- mostly, I'm afraid, because of an inferiority complex. I'm basically a knee-jerk conservative, meaning that I know all the right positions but can't really tell you why they're better than what The Liberals say. The author of this book is definitely A Liberal, so reading her perspective makes me uneasy, but I know I couldn't actually discuss it intelligently. In most cases like this, I'd tackle Darren and have him explain things to me; but he's been racing to finish his seminary work for this month, and hasn't been available for wifely instruction. (As a side note, isn't it charmingly Victorian of me to need my husband to explain the workings of the world to me?)

So, not surprisingly, I've gotten through only the introduction and first chapter or two. Just finished her overview of what she calls the "debt-for-diploma" system, otherwise known as America's higher education. She places heavy blame on the government for not adjusting grants to meet current tuition demands. But what she never addresses is why tuition is so darn high in the first place. I'm sure there are both good and bad reasons for it. If she's going to complain about the cost of college, and how it cuts out lower incomes and minorities, and how they can't get grants to help them through college without debilitating debt, shouldn't she at least ask why it's so expensive in the first place?

That aside, that chapter at least confirmed how glad I am that neither Darren nor I "went by the playbook" as far as college is concerned. Certainly, Darren's choice of Oak Brook, and my choice not to attend college at all, is limiting, both professionally and socially. And I don't deny that there lurks the dark specter of what I will do to support myself and the kids if Darren is ever unable to do so. But since neither of us find school enjoyable enough to pursue degrees merely for the intellectual rewards, and neither of us have very driving career ambitions, college for us would have been an expensive security blanket. Also, I'm speaking as one to whom God has been enormously good: Darren is able to work at a job he loves, and I'm able to stay home with the kids, and we aren't dedicating 20 percent of every paycheck to student loans.

***

Other books I've read lately have confirmed other opinions of mine. I love Dorothy Sayers' writing: but I've decided I really dislike murder mysteries, even hers. For one thing -- and I know this is squeamish of me -- I hate the fact that somebody always dies. But mostly I find the search for clues, interviews, theories, and constant rehashing of the crime extremely tedious. I nearly couldn't finish "Five Red Herrings." On the other hand, her novel "Gaudy Night," while just as tedious in the murder mystery aspect, had some very deep character studies in it that I didn't even begin to absorb. I wouldn't mind if she'd just dropped the murder and concentrated on the character studies, but I doubt that would have sold as well.

***

An interesting find recently has been "A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare," detailing the events of the year 1599, during which Shakespeare wrote some of his best-known plays. After reading the book -- which didn't treat Shakespeare as just lower than the angels, but did communicate a real enthusiasm for his work -- I even started on Hamlet itself. I've realized that my tolerance for poetic dialogue has stretched enormously during the last few years. At this rate, Darren be able to sit and read poetry to me someday.

***
During my latest excursion to the library, I was evidently in a morbid frame of mind. I checked out three books (all YA, of course): one was a ghost story; one was an "imagined true story" of a religious cult in 1900s Corvallis, OR (which naturally caught my eye, D&R); and the last is some futuristic dystopia, set in a world whose population has been decimated by a deadly Flu. I need to go read some Wodehouse.

-- SJ

Tell Me A Story (Here's Your Outline)

When I began blogging, I resolved that I wouldn't fill the page with stories about my kids. Just a few here and there to season an otherwise austere collection of book discussions, name reports, and enthusiastic, half-formed opinions. But my resolve is crumbling around the edges as Addie and Stuart continually produce blog-worthy material. Here are a couple more such stories, and then I promise I'll blog about the book I'm reading on "why America's 20- and 30-somethings can't get ahead."


Note: I yet again remind the reading public that "Age of Mythology" flavors most imaginative excursions in this household.

***
Stuart crawled up in Darren's lap and said, "Will you tell me a story?"

"Yes."

"A story about ten gatherers and one archer who tells them that a frost giant is knocking down their house."

Darren looked at me. "Have you told him a story like this already?"

"Oh, no," I answered. "The kids are like editors, who send down the plot outline. You're the writer who fills in the details."

"All right, Frank W. Dixon, here's the story."

"About ten gatherers."

"Yes."

"And one archer and a frost giant."

"Right."

"And berry bushes."

"Okay, let me get started. Once, a long time ago..."

"There were ten gatherers."

"Right. I'm getting to that. Once, a long time ago, it was morning. There were ten gatherers who got up to work."

"And there was an archer and a frost giant."

"I'm not there yet!"

And I left the room, with Darren still laboring to meet the high editorial standards expected of modern daddies.

***

Addie asked for a bedtime story. "About 100 scouts and 100 treasure houses."

Darren complied, but downsized the treasure-house cast for convenience. He told about two treasure houses, and how the scouts split up 50-50 to each house and got all the treasure. Then they went away and the two treasure houses disappeared.

Addie was quiet, thinking. "Where did the treasure houses go?"

"It's a mystery," Darren said, very Eastern Christian-like.

More thinking. Then, "What happened to the other 98?"

-- SJ

T is for Testosterone

My method of teaching Addie to read went as follows: "'A' says 'aaa.' 'EA' together says 'eee.' Oh, that's a funny 'C' -- it sounds like 'S' here." She'd adapt to the new rule and go on, so that by this time she's sounding out easy-read books with halting, but real, fluency.

I tried the same method with Stuart. It went something like this: "What does 'A' say? Stuart, Stuart, come here... What does 'A' say? 'Aaaa.' Like 'aaapple.' Can you say 'aaaa'? Stuart, sit down... oh, never mind. " Stuart knows his alphabet, but has no idea what the letters actually say. Futhermore, he's supremely uninterested in finding out.

A couple of days ago, the clouds broke. Darren wrote up a special alphabet just for Stuart. He was best qualified to do it because it's Stuart's idea of Quality Father-Son Time to play "Age of Mythology" on the computer. The next day, I sat down with the paper in hand and said,

"A is Ajax and axe.
B is for Black Boar.
C is for Colossus.
D is for dinosaur.
E is for egg (as in phoenix egg)
F is for fire giant.
G is for Goliath.
H is for hippocampus.
I is for ice hammer.
J is for jump.
K is for Kronos.
L is for Lion.
M is for minotaur.
N is for nail.
O is for octopus (or obelisk).
P is for pegasus.
Q is for quick.
R is for roc.
S is for sphinx.
T is for troll.
U is for unicorn.
V is for Valkyrie.
W is for wolf.
X is like in phoenix.
Y is for yell.
Z is for zoog zapper." (From an entirely different game, but still a method of killing bad guys.)

Stuart was absolutely enthralled. Being a three-year-old boy, he never did get through the entire list, but knows up to about K without hesitation. It's a start... both toward Stuart learning to read, and Mama learning to teach.

-- SJ

The Randomizer As...

Geographer:
"In the continent of North Italy, the word 'spizba' means 'yes.'"
"The flag of France has black and white on it. Stuart can attest to that."

Dairy expert:
"The way they make butter is that they get the milk and freeze it and cut it into a cube and paint it yellow, and it's butter!"

Self-Disciplinarian:
"Oh, no! You made me give it back to Stuart! Now I will have to stay in my room for a year!"

Matchmaker:
Every night, the kids pray for a set of cousins, which includes our godson, Ben. Last night, Addie prayed in a stream-of-consciousness sing-song, while Darren nearly strained something trying not laugh:
"And please bless Ben and the new baby in Miss Rachelle's tummy, who will be his brother or sister and Stuart will marry her and know what kind of flowers to bring home to his wife."

-- SJ

A Helpful Form

One of our main babysitters, Kahri, often leaves notes for us to tell us what happened while we were gone. I thought it might be helpful to design a form that could be used in all circumstances.

********
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jones,

Welcome home! Tonight, the kids were:

___ Perfect little angels.
___ Minor saints.
___ Rambunctious hippopotami.
___ I am joining a Reformed church due to my new-found belief in the total depravity of man.

As a special craft for you, the kids:

___ Put together this sweet valentine’s heart with their handprint in the middle.
___ Assembled a puzzle.
___ Dropped juice and Cheerios all over the floor.
___ The electrician and plumber are both scheduled for tomorrow; the TV repairman said it’s inoperable; and the carpenter said he should be able to patch the holes in the wall sometime next week.

Before bedtime, we:

___ Read a story, prayed, and went right to bed.
___ Had a snack. Okay, three snacks.
___ Talked several times about the necessity of obedience.
___ Read a Bible story, had storytime candy, took a bath, brushed teeth, put on pajamas, took off pajamas, went to the bathroom, put on new pajamas, read a story, got into bed, prayed, told a story, told another story, left the door ajar, pitched a major fit because the nightlight wasn’t plugged into the correct outlet, coughed until he threw up, and finally fell asleep halfway out the bedroom door into the hall.

After the kids went to bed, I:
___ Did the dishes and swept the floor.
___ Picked up the toys.
___ Watched a video.
___ Heard you driving into the driveway as I was screaming into a pillow.

___ I’d love to do this again!
___ Let’s discuss payment for next time.
___ Don’t call me, I’ll call you.
___ Have you considered the major benefits of a continent marriage?

--The Babysitter

--DJ

A Book Post

Ever since I saw this one on QOC's blog, I've been working on it. Answers would probably change week to week, but here's my take on it.

1. How many hours a day do you spend reading?
At work, probably 4 hours, between internet and paper. At home, probably about 2 hours.
2. How fast do you read?
Very fast. I can polish off a Dick Francis book in about an hour and a quarter.
3. What is your favorite book?
Too many to list. “Lord of the Rings” is way up there. So is “The Practice of the Presence of God.”
4. Who is your favorite author?
Robert Webber is very good, as is J.I. Packer. Tolkien and Dick Francis are up there, too.
5. What is your favorite action/adventure novel?
I really like Alistair MacLean’s books for action. Probably “Where Eagles Dare” or “The Golden Gate” are my favorites of his.
6. What is your favorite mystery novel?
Dorothy Sayers’ “Murder Must Advertise.”
7. What is your favorite romance novel?
Either “Ever After” by Elswyth Thane or “Pride and Prejudice.” Although there’s a sci-fi romance I read back in junior high called “Time Piper” that I really liked, too.
8. What is your favorite character novel?
I have no idea. I generally don’t read novels for “character.”
9. What is your favorite fantasy/sci-fi novel?
The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien. But the Riddlemaster trilogy by McKillip comes pretty close.
And in my opinion, you can’t mash fantasy/sci-fi together, so I’ll split it. Favorite sci-fi novel is “Ender’s Game” by Orson Scott Card. I’ve read it so many times I’ve just about got it memorized. Also, “Starship Troopers” by R.A. Heinlein is one of my very favorite books.
10. What is your favorite history book?
“The Story of Christianity” by Justo Gonzalez.
11. What is your favorite biography?
“Tolkien” by Humphrey Carpenter. I’m actually not a big fan of biographies.
12. What is your favorite other non-fiction book?
Rather a broad category. There have been a couple books I’ve read in seminary that I really liked – “Baptism” by Michael Green and “Worship Old and New” by Robert Webber.
13. What is your favorite play?
Hamlet. Both the Branagh and Gibson movies are awesome.
14. What is your favorite of the genres mentioned in questions 5-12?
Fantasy.
15. What is your favorite type of character?
Sarcastic but honorable.
16. If you could host a party with 7 literary characters, who would they be and why?
Note: My definition of “literature” includes popular novels.
Mat Cauthon (from Wheel of Time) – the life of the party type.
Elizabeth Bennett – to cut Mat down to size when he gets too fresh.
Miss Manners (okay, maybe it’s a stretch, but she’s DEFINITELY a character, even if not precisely literary) – to cut EVERYONE down to size.
Merlin (from the Stephen Lawhead trilogy) – to perform magic, preach, and toss off wise remarks.
Deth (from the Riddlemaster trilogy) – to provide music (for those who’ve never read it, he’s a harpist over 1,000 years old).
Corran Horn (from the X-Wing series) – to tell stories about his stints as X-wing pilot, police officer, and Jedi Knight.
Jeeves – to keep everything running smoothly.
Puddleglum – to make sure no one has TOO good a time.
17. Do you like film adaptations of books? If so, which is your favorite? Which is your least?
Not usually. I really liked “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” “The Fellowship of the Ring” was really good too – the other two, not as much. Also, I thoroughly enjoy “A Little Princess” – the Wonderworks version, most definitely NOT the modern version, which I intensely disliked. “The Princess Bride” is the only movie I know which is better than the book.
18. Who is your literary role model?
I don’t think I have one.
19. Which literary house would you like most to live in?
Rivendell.
20. Which literary couple would you like most for parents?
Um, how about Faramir and Eowyn?
21. Pick 3 literary characters you would like to have as siblings.
Merry and Pippin would be good (although you’d have to watch out for practical jokes, I think). Malcolm (from George MacDonald’s books) would be good, since he’s so devoted to family.
22. Who is your favorite literary villain?
I don’t like villains. In fact, if a book’s villain is too intensely bad, I’ve been known to give up reading it. If rating by how much they stick with me, Dorothy Dunnett’s villain Graham Malett is one of the worst, in my opinion. Padan Fain from the Wheel of Time is pretty bad, too.
23. Name a character that most people dislike, but that you do not. Why do you like them?
I don’t know if most people dislike Smeagol/Gollum, but I’ve always felt very sorry for him.
24. Which minor character deserves a book all to themselves, in your opinion?
Reepicheep.
25. Which character do you identify most with in literature?
I don’t. Although I wouldn’t mind being noble like Aragorn :).
26. If you could go into a novel, which one would it be and why?
Lord of the Rings, so I could explore Middle Earth.
27. Do you prefer hardback or paperback?
Paperback.
28. Do you like dustcovers?
Yes.
29. Do you like introductions, forwards, afterwards, and appendices?
Yes, and I tend to read them all. Footnotes are good too, which is one of the reasons I really enjoyed "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell."
30. Do you like reading literary criticism?
Very occasionally. Thomas Howard’s reviews of Charles Williams’ books really helped me understand them better.
31. Do you like new or used books? What about ex-library?
All of the above. Library book sales rock!
32. Are you likely to buy new books without having read them, or would you buy a used copy (or check it out from the library) to see if it is good or not?
I almost never buy a new book without reading it first, unless it’s highly recommended by someone whose taste I trust.
33. Name 3 - 7 books that you rarely see on people's favorite book lists that are high on your own.
“Song for the Basilisk,” Patricia McKillip.
“The Betrothed,” Sir Walter Scott.
“Berserker Man,” Fred Saberhagen
“The Worm Ouroboros” and “The Well at the World’s End” by William Morris
“Merlin,” Stephen Lawhead
34. Which is your least favorite book of those that are considered "classics"?
I never really liked “The Scarlet Letter.”
35. Do you like books read aloud, or do you prefer silent reading?
Both.
36. When you read, do you see things in your mind like a movie, or just in vague pictures?
Usually just vague pictures. I think. I don’t particularly know, actually.
37. Do you like to read in silence, or with background noise/music?
Either. Enya is good to read to.
38. Can you read in the car without getting carsick?
Yes. Although I had to learn how, meaning my parents had to clean up after me when I was young.
39. Do you go to booksales?
Absolutely!
40. Name one literary quirk of yours.
I don’t like classics very much.

--DJ

What Do We Believe?

A couple of weeks ago, I performed a small act of service by buying a book I only sort of wanted at the local Christian bookstore, just to support them. (The service was very small: the book was discounted.) Called "Letters to a Diminished Church," it's a collection of essays written in the 50s by Dorothy Sayers, better known for her Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries.

It took me ages to pick it up and actually read it. Now that I have, it's hard to put down. Sayers is an excellent writer, very incisive and witty, and she articulates many things that I've thought about but haven't worked through entirely.

In a show of great restraint, I'm posting only a short excerpt from only one of her essays. It was both entertaining and a bit disturbing, seeing how well I identified with many of the misconceptions she listed. The excerpt comprises the rest of this post:

"Judging by what my young friends tell me, and also by what is said on the subject in anti-Christian literature by people who ought to have taken a little trouble to find out what they are attacking before attacking it, I have come to the conclusion that a short examination paper on the Christian religion might be very generally answered as follows:

Q: What does the Church think of God the Father?
A: He is omnipotent and holy. He created the world and imposed on man conditions impossible of fulfillment; he is very angry if these are not carried out. ... He likes to be truckled to and is ready to pounce on anybody who trips up over a difficulty in the law or is having a bit of fun. He is rather like a dictator, only larger and more arbitrary.

Q: What does the Church think of God the Son?
A: He is in some way identified with Jesus of Nazareth.... Unlike God, he is friendly to man and did his best to reconcile man to God. He has a good deal of influence with God, and if you want anything done, it is best to apply to him.

Q: What does the Church think of God the Holy Ghost?
A: I don't know exactly. ... There is a sin against him that damns you forever, but nobody knows what it is.

Q: What was Jesus Christ like in real life?
A: He was a good man -- so good as to be called the Son of God. He was meek and mild and preached a simple religion of love and pacifism. He had no sense of humor. Anything the Bible that suggests another side to his character must have been interpolated, or a paradox invented by G.K. Chesterton. If we try to live like him, God the Father will let us off being damned hereafter and only have us tortured in this life instead.

Q: What is meant by atonement?
A: God wanted to damn everybody, but his vindictive sadism was sated by the crucifixion of his own Son, who was quite innocent, and therefore, a particularly attractive victim. He now only damns people who don't follow Christ or who never heard of him.

Q: What does the Church think of sex?
A: God made it necessary to the machinery of the world, and tolerates it, provided the parties (a) are married, and (b) get no pleasure out of it.

Q: What does the Church call sin?
A: Sex (otherwise than excepted above); getting drunk; saying 'damn'; murder; and cruelty to dumb animals; not going to church; most kinds of amusement. "Original sin" means that anything we enjoy doing is wrong.

Q: What are the seven Christian virtues?
A: Respectability, childishness, mental timidity, dullness, sentimentality, censoriousness, and depression of spirits.

Q: Wilt thou be baptized in this faith?
A: No fear!"

-- SJ (although mostly DS)

The Modern Bards

A long time ago in Ireland and other Celtic places, no one insulted or mistreated a bard. This was not (always) due to some belief in the bard's otherworldly powers. In fact, there was a very practical reason: if you failed to give a bard his proper due, he could write songs that would besmirch your honor and belittle your reputation as they were sung from one end of the Emerald Isle to the other.

I've wondered sometimes who the modern bards are. And listening to NPR today on the way in, I found some. A commentator mentioned that a new SEC appointee wanted to do a good job and not let another Enron scandal happen on his watch, lest he be the butt of late-night comedians' jokes.

All hail, Bard Leno and Bard Letterman!

--DJ

10 Things to Enjoy When Husband Leaves for Four Days

1. It doesn't happen frequently or for very long at a time.
2. There is no schedule to maintain. Trip to Target at 5:30pm? No problem!
3. Kids don't mind if you serve them pasta and toast at 7:00 and call it supper.
4. You can have spend-the-nights with best friends and watch Pride and Prejudice.
5. (The new Pride and Prejudice, not the six-hour one. We may have spend-the-nights but we're not young and stupid anymore.)
6. You get lots of text messages.
7. You can justify the following: extra videos, new computer games, special baking projects, and popcorn for breakfast.
8. You can up and decide to take an outing without leaving a note on the door or supper in the crockpot.
9. You get lots of sympathy and lots of people praying for you.
10. He comes home again.

-- SJ

Mundania VI

* Spring comes slowly here in the North. Remember that my point of reference is South Mississippi, where it's green by the end of February, warm by the end of March, and hot by the end of May. The fact that I can't put away all pants and long sleeves yet -- in the middle of April already! -- is driving me crazy.

* On the other hand, it is marvelous to see green coming out everywhere. Spring is my favorite season, at least until we get to autumn.

* I want to learn to garden, so have started out small: Addie and I made a small vegetable patch in the backyard. It's about 5'x2'. It looks like we buried a rather short person back there.

* I'm developing a respectable little tummy as Baby grows. Because of a disagreement between myself and the ultrasound, I'm not sure exactly how far along I am, but it's somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-24 weeks. The official word on the sex of the baby is, basically, It's a girl unless it's a boy. Oh, well.

* Addie, upon being told that her Aunt Pam and Miss Rachelle both have babies in their tummies like Mama, dubbed all three babies "Amsel." Source uncertain. That's how she prays for them: "And please bless Amsel, Amsel, and Amsel."

* Stuart has decided that if the baby is a girl, we'll name her Eve. If it's a boy (which both kids insist it is), we'll name it Adam. Which is better than his first suggestions of Cyclops and Minotaur.

* Darren has had a recurring problem with what is essentially -- ready for this? -- a cold sore on his eye. No, not a sty. Yes, like on his cornea. Want to hear about the treatment the first time, when the sore was rather advanced by the time he got to the eye doctor? No, didn't think so.

* Last night I dreamed that I went to a session in Knoxville (yes, I was wearing a navy skirt), where the speaker came down hard on my method of discipline with Stuart. I was so outspoken in my objections that I was sent out of the session. I think this indicates a subconscious victory over longstanding insecurities.

* The vegetable garden is putting up tiny radish and lettuce plants.

-- SJ

Easter Day!

When Darren and I were first married -- sometime in that pause between the wedding and Addie's birth -- I remarked that I'd like Easter to be a "big deal" in our household. The way I grew up, we anticipated Christmas for an entire month or more before the actual day; but Easter we usually greeted with, "Oh, it's next Sunday?" Even to my young mind, it was obvious that while it was important that Jesus was born, it was much more critical that He died and resurrected. Once married and free to set my own family traditions, I wanted to do things differently. Exactly how to make Easter a big deal, however, was a bit fuzzy.

About two and a half years later, God led us into the sacramental and liturgical church. I discovered with delight that I didn't have to do anything at all: the historical Church built its entire year around the Feast of the Resurrection. From Advent, to Christmas, to Lent -- through Palm Sunday and Holy Week -- everything climaxed in that glorious white and gold celebration of Jesus' victory over death.

Today, even Addie and Stuart are excited that it's Easter. Granted, that's partly because they know Lent is over so we'll buy ice cream again. But the seed of joy has been planted. Easter is, indeed, a big deal.

As one of my favorite authors wrote, I'm a convert so must check the tendency to gush. But on this Day of Days, fresh from Lenten restrictions and back among my friends online, I'm feeling very gushy. Happy Easter!

He is risen! He is risen indeed!

-- SJ

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Lent

Today is Mardi Gras, which I celebrated by eating two Take-5 bars because I won't be eating anything like it for another forty days. Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which ushers in the pentiential season of Lent. Managing to be pregnant on Ash Wednesday has spared me a day's fasting. Unfortunately I can't argue the same about chocolate, ice cream, and blogging, all of which are very dear to me; I'm giving up them up during this season. This year Darren isn't giving up blogging, so he'll keep me abreast of all the exciting (and otherwise) developments until Easter.

Lent is a very serious time of reflection, repentance, and renewal. All the Lenten songs reinforce that attitude. I was pondering possibilities for a lighter, more user-friendly type of Lent song. For instance:

It's beginning to look a lot like Lent!
When we're solemn and penitent.
Remembrance, examination
Meditation on damnation
And how for our sins Jesus was sent! (sorry, this is getting worse as I go)

Lent, that "bright sorrow,"
Officially begins tomorrow.
It's a long forty days,
But at the end you're always
Glad you went through it.

The real problem with this type of song catching on is the tradition that you don't say "Alleluia" during Lent. I can't imagine how you can have a praise song that doesn't involve at least six repetitions of "Alleluia."

Farewell, all and sundry. See you on Easter!

-- SJ

The Way Things Are

Stuart, in a moment of revealing sincerity, volunteered,

"Mama, I love you, especially Daddy."

-- SJ

A Couple Pictures

Here are two pictures from Christmas. The first is a picture of our church, taken the Sunday before Christmas. I think it came out pretty well. The second is our annual family picture, which (unusually) we were all happy with.

--DJ

Happy, Convenient Logic

At a used-book store, I found an old volume entitled "Chautauqua Girls at Home." It was published in 1877, and since I'm fascinated by the thought that it was "born" exactly a hundred years before I was, I bought it.

Naturally -- and this is my lot in life -- it was the second book of a series. I always find the second book first. When I get to Heaven, and am granted a look in the Lamb's Book of Life, St. Peter will add over my shoulder, "Of course, that's the second volume... somebody else has the first one out right now." The first book of this 1870s series was called "Four Girls at Chautauqua," and it's easy to figure out the plot: four girls from very different backgrounds attend a two-week-long Chautauqua conference. These conferences were popular during that time, either as religious meetings (as in this case) or simply a culturally-enriching series of lectures and performances. In this book, all four girls find Christ, and return home to live out their new lives as Christians. That's where I picked up the story.

As a whole, the story was on the low side of okay. A couple of very good plot turns near the end redeemed it, and as much as the heroines' suddenly grave demeanors and amazing spiritual maturity annoyed me, it's obvious the author was out to effect good on her readers. However, one section left me sputtering, which I proceeded to do at great length to Darren. And now I will blog about it.

Flossie (can you believe parents thought this an acceptable name?) has just learned that her pastor likely disapproves of card-playing. So she goes to her three friends and asks them about it. They agree to do a Bible study on it and come back together with their answers. Well, as it happens, nobody can find "card-playing" in their Bibles. So then Marion, the daughter of a devout man but former atheist herself, pulls out her Bible and dazzles her friends with her incisive Bible study skills. She cites I Corinthians 8: "Don't cause a weaker brother to stumble." She explains what the passage was talking about (eating meat offered to idols) then says,

"Just you let me read the passage, substituting the object about which we are talking, and see how the verses will fit. ... 'But cards commend us not to God: for neither is we play are we the better; neither if we play are we the worse. ... 'Wherefore if cards make my brother to offend, I will play no more cards...'

Eurie interrupts, "What right have you to substitute the word cards? It is talking about another matter."

Marion replies, "Now, Eurie Mitchell, you are too bright to make a remark as that! If the Bible is
for our help as well as Paul's, we have surely the right to substitute the noun that fits our present needs."

What happy, convenient logic that is!

And can anyone guess what the next grave moral failing they addressed was? Dancing! The author devotes lots of discussion to this issue, pretending that she's making a case for both sides. My favorite part was when Marion the Wise says that all those verses Eurie found on dancing refer to dancing during worship. Eurie says, "Well! I'm glad it's not done that way anymore!" They don't discuss exactly why this form of worship has been invalidated: it's obvious, at least to the author. Having settled that question, the four girls pursue their happy, convenient logic to its end, which is that dancing is bad.

It's not that I think we should live heedlessly, with no thought as to how our actions affect others. It was a pivotal decision of mine, years ago, not to go dancing with friends. (I met my husband because of that, incidentally... what a good moral to the story!) What I object to is taking cultural standards -- card-playing, worship style, clothes, music -- and making them into Scriptural standards. I know people who still use that happy, convenient logic, and I find it just as fallacious as it was a hundred years before I was born.

-- SJ

P.S. As a completely irrelevant endnote, the author wrote under the name "Pansy."

3 for 1: Randomizer, Carbivore, and Generalizer

Last night at Bob Evans (the kids' favorite restaurant), Addie was in rare form.

At the table, the Randomizer appeared:

"Speaking about God [which we weren't], baby birds [which we also weren't talking about] go to sleep when their mamas feed them."

As we were paying on the way out, Addie (who had eaten a roll and a half, plus a big serving of mashed potatoes) clutched her stomach and said:

"I feel awful." Just what any restaurant wants new customers to hear as they arrive :)

In the van, eating our normal post-Bob Evans peppermint patty, the Generalizer decided it was her turn:

"Four year old girls who are sick feel better when they eat peppermint patties."

--DJ

Arriving Home

Last week, I got home from work to find this note taped to the door. Note: It is Addie's job to water the plant, and Stuart's job to bring sippy cups out to the sink in the morning.

"Warning:

Any expectations of industry, diligence, or upkeep in this household will be disappointed. Reliable reports indicate that, from 7:30 a.m. until 6:00 p.m., dishes have not been touched, toys have been left where they lay, tables have not been wiped, and kids were mostly half-dressed all day.

Persons responsible for this state of affairs have not indicated much remorse.

P.S. The plant did get watered, the sippy cups brought out before quiet play, and supper is underway. And also some people are most of the way finished with a Lord Peter Wimsey book."

--DJ

Christianity in Action

I love missionary stories. Christianity Today Magazine has a good one this week, about a country (India) that I know all too little about.

--DJ

A Cross of Elsie and the Randomizer

At DanaR's suggestion, I've cross-bred Elsie Dinsmore and the Randomizer. It's just as disorienting as expected. For those privileged not to know Elsie Dinsmore, she was the heroine of an 1860s series of books, heavily moralistic and more than a bit hard to swallow.

***
Addie Dinsmore was perched in a large chair, her shining hair falling softly into her thick-lashed eyes, observing the scene before her with an unusually grave expression for a four-year-old. It was her parents’ annual All Saints Day Party, and the revelry was loud and boisterous.

"Why, what makes my little friend so grave tonight?" asked a kindly voice, and she looked up to see the gentle blue eyes of Mr. Trillobyte, a family friend.

"Oh, I do hate to say anything that would make this occasion unhappy,"said the tender-hearted girl, but a dewy tear glistened on her darklashes.

"Nothing you say could make me unhappy," said Mr. Trillobyte. At which point, Daddy firmly escorted Mr.Trillobyte out of the house, where he never returned, and he left with the kindly advice from Daddy that he find a nice girl nearer his age to talk to.

Addie Dinsmore was left to her thoughts, until Mrs. Walters, the silly mother of two silly daughters, spotted her. "Addie!" she cried, her shrill voice rising above the noise. "Come out and sing and make merry with us! You cannot sit there all night!"

"No, thank you," answered Addie. "I’m afraid, Mrs. Walters, that I cannot join in. I wonder – I do wonder – whether it is good and right to indulge in such frivolity and abandon a mere 36 hours before the Lord’s Sabbath!"

"Well!" said the two Walters girls, who were very silly. "I declare! What a funny thought! Why I never give any thought to the Sabbath, except to sit through those very long church services and try not to fall asleep!"

It need not be mentioned that both these girls, and their mother, experienced many unhappinesses and tragedies later in life.

Mama came to Addie and said, "You need not scruple on that account, my daughter. Surely the Lord blesses a gathering in His name!"

But Addie shook her head wisely, her soft hair shining. "I think, Mama,you should instead read His word. That way it will make your cheeks healthy."

The frivolity came to an abrupt halt, and everyone left in an unusually solemn frame of mind. No one even fell asleep in church 36 hours later, because they were all still trying to figure out what on earth Addie Dinsmore had meant.

-- SJ

Advice From Recent Personal Experience

If you eat a raspberry-filled Lindt chocolate ball, do not eat Reese'sPieces directly afterward.

-- DJ

A Spot of Irritation

I recently glanced through a Biblical novel about Sarah. It was a different strain from the Christian novels I read (and tired of) as a teenager. This one was written by a Jewish man (so would it count as "Biblical"?). I didn't get very far into it. I think part of my distaste was simply my upbringing, which shrinks away from earthy discussions of... well, earthy things. And maybe it was my Western-Christian-homeschool delicacy which thought that the author dwelled a little too lovingly on female rites of passage and pagan worship.

But what mostly irritated me (since how often do I write about books which don't irritate me?) was that Sarai/Sarah was, of course, a STRONG woman. And that means that she starts at twelve years old bucking traditions, starting with a deep horror at the realization that her father is going to give her in marriage to someone she hasn't met. That was my first silent scream of frustration. Granted, she might not have liked the idea, but I simply can't believe she'd have been so blown away by it. That was the way it was done -- she wouldn't think any other way. In fact, I wonder it would even occur to her that it shouldn't be done that way. It would have made a less cliched story if Sarai had worked within her restraints, instead of trying to throw them off.

The author may have been working off Jewish legends that I don't know about. In the book, Sarai takes herbs which stop her cycle, which then ushers her into the priestesshood of Ishtar (and temple prostitute) before she goes off with Abram. I'm willing to give the author the benefit of the doubt, because otherwise he seems to have created a fiction around Sarah that he then fell in belief with.

I probably would have liked the book marginally better if I was at all interested in historical/Biblical novels in the first place.

-- SJ

Mundania V

* Last night I scrapbooked with several friends; we've been a group for over a year now. I announced that I am pregnant, and they all squealed, "Oh! We're having a baby!" Three of them are on Weight Watchers and have slimmed down beautifully the past few months, and none of them even offered to share the weight gain with me.

* Addie has turned into a little ministering spirit. Anyone who knew Addie as a toddler would be as surprised as we are. Last week some plans fell through, and it seemed very important to me. So I cried. Addie sat with me on the couch, wiped my eyes with her sleeve, brought me a cup of water, and told me I was a sweet Mama and that it wasn't my fault.

* At Bible study yesterday, I set myself a new life goal. It's inspired by a woman who got up in front of everyone to recite a devotional poem she'd composed. She was sparkly, vibrant, good voice, quick wit... and 93 years old. That's what I want to be when I grow up.

* This morning Stuart was playing with a stick horse that, when you push a button on the ear, makes galloping noises. He couldn't remember where the button was, and was feeling all over its head and neck. "Try the ear," I suggested. When I turned around again, he was dutifully pressing his ear against the horse's head and neck, still unsuccessful.

* S: "Did we remember that we needed to get more olive oil?"
D: "No, and I didn't check before I made the list. It's my fault."
S: "Yes, I know, but I worded it like that to make it sound nicer."

-- SJ

Press Release

It was with great fanfare and enormous success that the Roberts & Jones Syndicate was formed in 2000. "Anything produced by this partnership will meet the highest standards of excellence," predicted one colleague. Losing no time, the Syndicate (known popularly as D & S Jones) produced its first edition, Adelaide, in 2001, which it quickly followed up with the sequel, Stuart, in 2002.

After a temporary delay in production, the Syndicate has announced its plans for a third edition, rounding the series out to a trilogy. "We're still in the early production phase," said one spokesperson. However, the Syndicate plans to issue regular progress updates. Projected release date for the third edition is late August.

--SJ & DJ

Tagged

Notwithstanding Derrick's bold stand against this practice, here's my offering of random information, in lists of four. (Darren did one earlier, but his was in sevens, which is entirely too high a number for lists... may my mother-in-law forgive me.)

Four Jobs I Have Had in My Life:
Medical data entry
Small-town newspaper
Tutor
Mama

Movies I Could Watch Over and Over Again:
Princess Bride
Singin' in the Rain
Pride and Prejudice
The Incredibles

Four Places I Have Lived:
Greene County, MS
George County, MS
Purcellville, VA
Lovettsville, VA

Four TV Shows I Love to Watch:
I
Don't
Watch
T.V.

Four Places I Have Been on Vacation:
Corvallis, OR
Knoxville, TN (does that count?)
Lake Killarney, Nova Scotia
Manchester, NH

Four Websites I Visit Daily (or at least weekly):
See sidebar (I'm lazy about links)

Four of My Favorite Foods:
Ice cream
Spaghetti
Ham sandwiches
Fudge

Four Singers I Can't Live Without:
Enya
Jay Ungar/Molly Mason
Steve Green
JoDee Messina

Four Places I'd Rather Be:
England
Scotland
Australia
On the couch with my husband

Four Bloggers I Am Tagging:
AmyK
Bensmom
Jillybean
RoseF

Happy Birthday!

My wife is celebrating her birthday today! Well, kind of - we're going out to dinner on Friday for it, but today is the actual day.

Sara has made my life wonderfully rich. I love her sense of humor and her writing ability, and she's the person I most like spending time with. She's an excellent mother and a devoted wife, besides being a good friend. I am impressed with her spiritual growth even in the (seemingly short) time we've been married, and every day I am more thankful to God that He brought us together.

I love you, my Sara!

--DJ

The Bible Makes Him Do It

Stuart, my cuddly, giggly, Pink-Bear-nurturing child, has suddenly turned... well, violent.

I'd noticed signs before, but last weekend I realized it had dawned in full. We went to the arcade at the mall, where we've gone since Stuart was a baby in the double stroller. There are a few games we play, and all the rest we completely ignore. This time, Addie played all the usual games; but Stuart was conspicuously absent. When I finally spotted him, I realized he was canvassing the joint for the Gun Games. Every time I looked up, he had another gun in his hand.

When I called him over to offer him a token, he asked, "May I please shoot the bad guys?"

"No! You can't play those games! You've NEVER played those games!"

So he played Spider Stomp and Bouncy Ball... and then ran back over to the guns.


At home, I noticed that things die with alarming frequency in Stuart's play:

S: "Sunshine is a MEAN horse."
A: "Oh, no! Littlefoot is scared of Sunshine!"
S: "That's okay, Littlefoot! Smokey will KILL Sunshine! Bomp! There! He's dead!"
A: "Oh, THANK you, Smokey!"

I would be more concerned, except that I know what Stuart watches and who he plays with. So I know where he's getting most of his ideas: Bible stories. Just try telling a good Bible story that doesn't involve somebody dying. No, we don't have an updated version that includes guns; but that's just a natural extension of slingshots, really.

We fortunately have a softening influence, also of Scripture. Most of the mean animals who are killed in the above fashion are resurrected shortly afterward ("Sunshine came back to life!"). They furthermore enjoy a marked improvement in character ("Now he's a nice horse.")

I'm beginning to realize that there are some side effects of Biblical parenting that I never foresaw.

-- SJ

In Appreciation of Blogs

Thanks to all of you who keep your blogs going. Despite the thousands of miles that separate us, we can still get together and talk, exchange ideas, discuss, debate, and say clever things. The interaction online is so real that when I do get to see any of you in person, we hardly have any catching up to do.

As soon as I get up in the mornings and ooze out to the living room (Children: "Look! Mama's awake! And she dressed herself!"), I log on for my morning conversations. Throughout the day, when I'm feeling listless or lonely, I'll return to see if anybody's added anything or commented anything. When Darren gets home, we talk about the blogs we read. Even if I don't comment on your post, you can be fairly sure I think about it during the day. Your posts help bolster my faith, confirm my opinions (for or against what you've said), or simply cheer me up.

Whether you're an old friend I'm glad to keep in touch with, or a new friend I've made through the blogosphere, thanks for keeping it going.

-- SJ

Please Pray

My good friend Debra called me a few days ago to say that her husband, on a church ski trip in Colorado, had suffered a heart attack. I've talked to her briefly a few times since then (she's in Denver with him now, of course) with further sketchy details. Knox is out of the hospital and doing fairly well, but evidently the lower part of his heart isn't pumping at the same rate as the upper, so there's the danger of blood clots and another attack. Since Knox is a good deal older than Debra, the attack wasn't completely unexpected, but still very hard for a couple who has been married only a year and a half. Please pray for his recovery, and especially for the long trip back to Mississippi.

-- SJ

The Generalizer

Lately, Addie has been forming sweeping generalizations based on current circumstances. It gives her a very tidy, if a trifle random, worldview. For example:

S: "Honey, if you get sick at night, you can call Mama or Daddy. We'll come help you."
A: "Yes. And if Daddy isn't home, then female grown-ups help their daughters."

**
A (observing the sunset on our way home from town one evening): "When the sun is setting, it follows people driving in Black Boars."


-- SJ

Tell Me What You Think Next Time

One of my favorite sites to check every week or so is Screenit, which reviews movies for drug use, profanity, sex, violence, etc. It's pretty useful.

The review for a dumb vampire movie that came out last week is as follows:

"It may be quite early in the new year, but we're confident that you won't see a worse film in the next 51 weeks. Based on a video game and directed by Uwe Boll (a filmmaker who should have his DGA card revoked if he even owns one), the film is a disaster from start to finish, top to bottom and side to side. Atrocious writing, ham-fisted direction, awful editing and abysmal acting compete to be the film's worst element in something akin to a cinematic demolition derby. But by the time you've tallied up the various cinematic offenses, you'll have either fallen asleep from boredom or gotten up and left due to the complete and utter ineptitude of this vampire-based, horror flick. Avoid it all costs. Romar did not screen this film in advance for critics (big shock there), so we're still working on the rest of our review once we get over the blunt force trauma that was delivered to our reviewing head by this picture."

I just thought that was funny enough that I had to post it.

--DJ

One, Two, Three -- Enough For Me!

This post is full of completely unoriginal ideas, but which have kept me musing nonetheless.

I overheard a lady talking in the bookstore the other day. "My dad was one of seven, and so he and Mom had six, of course. And I had five. And my daughter says that if I think she's going to have four, I'm crazy!"

Aside from the fact that, to my homeschool mind, four isn't exactly as the sands of the sea, I was struck by her daughter's comment. It's so familiar. I hear it every day in my MOMS group, and I've had the same reaction myself (notwithstanding that my "you're crazy" number is somewhere above six). I wondered suddenly, Why does our generation react to the idea of multiple children?

It isn't simply a prevalent decision to have small families. That could be mere apathy. There's nothing apathetic in the exclamations I hear: "Two is ENOUGH for me!" "I'm DONE!" "Never let them outnumber you, you know!" There's emotion in those reactions, as if the very thought of having four or more children stings. Why?

A few answers come to mind immediately, mostly because they lurk in my own heart. The more children you have, the more your freedom to Do Things and Have Things is limited. And our generation is not used to having limits. I've always wanted to go to England, and still never have. If I keep having kids, who knows if I'll ever get to go? Who would expect me to give up a lifelong dream like that?

And it's so hard to look good and keep fit when you keep having kids -- it takes a toll on your body, and then there's no time or money for gyms or sports.

And the money! The clothes! I don't want my children running around in hand-me-downs, looking obviously "big family" wherever they go.

And years and years of diapers, and training, and schooling, and discipline... it looks like a long and bleak road.

If some, or all, of those remarks are shocking coming from me, I guess I get points for being unusually honest. The difference in my case is that God is teaching me to pull myself upward, break the surface of our murky and earth-bound culture, and breathe deep of faith and heaven. Then I remember that this earth is not everything, that we don't have to fulfill every dream simply to prove we've lived, and that sacrifice often opens the way to a much greater joy.

I'm still not convinced I ever should have more than five or six kids, considering how easily I am overwhelmed by commitments and chaos. But I'm learning not to flinch at the very idea, mirroring what I see and hear everywhere. And of course the whole question is up to God in the end... and that's not piety, but stark fact. And meanwhile I continue to look on a culture who loves its children in strict moderation, and wonder at it and pray.

-- SJ

Oyster Annoyances

When I was home, my sisters reminded me of a line, origin forgotten, we used to rattle off to amuse ourselves and our family... not so much the latter after a while, but WE always thought it was funny. You have to say it aloud, rapidly:

A noisy noise annoys a noisy oyster.

For best effect, try it late at night after you've had too much caffeine.

-- SJ

A Bathtime Randomizer

Tonight, Addie was in the bathtub, while I was reading the new Touchstone magazine that came today. She was happily gabbing away while playing with the bubbles, and I surfaced from reading to hear the following:

A: I am putting bubbles on the wall to help me understand God.

Um. I've heard of a lot of strange things that people do to help them understand God better, but bubbles on the wall? Seeking clarification, I asked:

D: How does putting bubbles on the wall help you understand God?
A: Because I like bubbles on the wall.

Ah. Enlightenment. Of a sort, anyway.

D: And you like God too?
A: Yes. And I understand Him.

Okay. Whatever.

--DJ

An Inspiring Marriage

Darren and I have been enjoying a set of conversation-starter questions I got him for Christmas. One question kept me thinking. It asked, "What couple in the Bible most reflects the love relationship you have with your spouse?"

Um. When you think about it, there's not a great many inspiring love stories in the Bible. There's the usual litany -- Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel -- but none of them are exactly marriages I'd like to pattern mine after. We finally decided on Priscilla and Aquilla, but it was a stretch because we really don't know anything about their marriage. Naturally I appreciate the way the Bible presents its heroes as real, flawed, redeemed people. But the phrase "Biblical marriage," at least as it applies to actual people in the Bible, is in reality a rather unpleasant idea.

Then I moved on to what little Church history I know, and thought of possible examples among the saints throughout the ages. But for centuries there's been a heavy emphasis on purity through virginity. A married couple who pledged themselves to celibacy for the remainder of their marriage was revered as extra holy. And I sigh, because not only am I not in the least interested in married celibacy, but I don't think virginity is any more pure than a chaste marriage.

In the end, however, my musings brightened. Our culture is screaming in pain, unable to love or be loved, unable to find inspiration or examples of strong, chaste, faithful love. But I know many, aside from my own grace-filled experience so far. Perhaps our generation, our Church in this time, can be that inspiration. Perhaps we can exalt marriage and love -- not by words or amendments or sermons -- but by simple demonstration.

-- SJ

The Child's-Eye View

A few priceless remarks from a couple of priceless children:

***
We went to the park with Camie (Rosemary's daughter) and Mom (whom the kids call Mam). As I was getting Stuart out of the van, Mom said, "I have to go, Sara. Camie's found her feet."

Addie intervened, "Mam, her feet are on the end of her body!"

***

Stuart wanted me to carry him the entire fifteen feet across the yard to the house. I refused. "Your legs are perfectly capable of walking."

"My legs are not walking," Stuart objected. "They're fit to me."

***

Addie has a book of opposites that contrasts "tough" and "tender." She also has a Magic Schoolbus video in which Keisha says she's going to "ask Ms. Frizzle some tough questions." It took me quite a while to put those two facts together as Addie chattered on about being "full of tender questions."

***

-- SJ

Christmas in the South

For three Christmases, we stayed home to celebrate. The first year, Stuart was a newborn, so we were glad to stay put. The second year, we'd done a lot of traveling, and didn't want to go anywhere. Last year, it was lonely and I was depressed and I told Darren we weren't spending another stupid Christmas by ourselves. So this year we went to Mississippi.

(Which looks like a really random choice of a Christmas vacation, to those who don't know my roots.)

Because we got home at 1:30 this morning, I'm feeling singularly uninspired now as I try to write a brief and interesting account of our Southern Christmas. (I can probably accomplish a long and dull account, but that's a sorry return after a week's absence.) I'll save it until after I've gotten a little more sleep, or after I've sorted everything out. It was a very busy week, full of family, friends, and fevers.

I did get to meet my newest neice, Felicity, who is easily the smallest baby I've ever seen. By the time we left, Felicity at her 2-week checkup weighed more than her birth weight. Tests have indicated that her lungs are clear... and according to Mom, who kept the baby while Rosemary took Camie to the doctor, Felicity has developed an impressive volume herself.

Happy New Year, y'all! Good to be back.

-- SJ

A Couple Random Comments

1) Sara and I went to see the Narnia movie today. I loved it! For those of you who haven't seen it, go. It's really worth it.

Of course, Sara and I enjoyed it differently. She pointed out how pretty the dresses were at the coronation; I breathed "Cool" when the centaur drew two swords at once. I love the concept of fantasy battles. I bought a pack of military strategy games a couple years ago that included both "Panzer General" and "Fantasy General." I played "Panzer" a couple times, but I never could tell the difference between various types of tanks, planes, and infantry. When I switched to "Fantasy," I enjoyed it much more. I had no idea what the difference between Panzer III and Panzer IV tanks was, but I could visualize in a heartbeat the difference in capability between a wyvern, a flying serpent, and a black dragon.

I think the scene that gave me the most chills was when Aslan was marching to the Stone Table through a crowd of evil creatures. All I could think of was the line from Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent: "The Light of Light descendeth from the realms of endless day that the powers of hell may vanish..."

2) While putting Addie to bed tonight, she asked (again; this is about the fifth time in two months) why some people did bad things. Addie apparently is as fascinated with the concept of sin as Augustine and his great protege, Calvin. I did my best to explain it to her, and she paused to reflect. I was preparing to explain again to her that we can always come to Jesus for forgiveness, when she asked with great seriousness, "What would happen if I swallowed a rope?"

Bong. The Randomizer has spoken.

--DJ

A Response to Mrs. Focht

Dear Rose,

No, I haven’t been deliberately ignoring your question of what constitutes a poem. I’ve been formulating a response – otherwise known as procrastinating. :)

I think that Brooks would probably be able to give you a more technical answer. All I can do, really, is adopt the definition used by a Supreme Court justice when asked to define pornography: “I know it when I see it.” But basically I’d say that the major difference between poetry and prose is the high tolerance – nay, necessity – of ambiguity and symbolism in poetry.

Much English poetry, especially that published before, say, 1900 was highly metered and rhymed. I’ve heard different claims for the origins of rhyming poetry, including that it was the Irish who first came up with the idea. But if you look back at the earliest poetry that most of us are familiar with, the Psalms, they aren’t rhymed. Instead, the poetry consists of a dualistic structure, or sometimes triple.

E.g., “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.” Here we have one set of dualism, and one triple. My poem was based on the triple.

From what little I’ve seen of 20th century English poetry, it seems to be moving more to a free-flowing style, with concentration on symbolism rather than so much focus on rhyme. In my opinion, this sometimes lends itself to sloppiness; rather than getting really creative about the symbolism, as rhyme forces you to do, some poets just dash it off. However, if you look at some earlier Christian devotional poetry, especially in the 19th century, I think the writers were just as mentally lazy. The rhymes can be very forced, and the sentiments banal.

My very favorite poem ever is a sonnet: strictly metered and rhymed. And my favorite poets are the older ones: Donne and Herbert. That being said, I enjoy a lot of modern, non-rhymed poetry, especially Kathleen Norris.

And then, of course, there are the authors whose prose is so symbolically rich that it’s almost poetry, like Patricia McKillip and Calvin Miller, whose books sing.

--DJ

Physics for Light Reading

In the interests of keeping my mind sharp and energized, I went to the library and got a physics book.

The title of this book isn't important. The point is, it explains basic physics in an understandable way, using familiar examples to illustrate its points... okay, okay, the book is called "The Physics of Superheroes," and it's about comic book characters.

So far I've wrestled with questions such as, "How much force would Superman have to exert to leap a tall building in a single bound?" (Answer: A lot. He would have to launch off the ground at 140 mph.); "Could Spider-Man really swing himself through the city on his webbing?" (Answer: Yes. Spider-silk is incredibly strong.); "How much would the Flash have to eat to be able to run at the speed of light?" (Answer: pretty much all the time.)

I admit, I skip the physics discussions at times, and just read the comic-book character descriptions: the author is a real comic-book geek. But when I do concentrate on the physics part, I find myself understanding lots of things I thought I already knew, or things I never quite got the first time around. I don't have a physicist's mind, which insists on trying to explain how everything works. But I do enjoy tagging along after they've done all the explaining. And part of my determination to make it through this book is self-defense: as soon as Addie-the-Science-Girl is old enough to start looking into the world around her, she's going shoot way out ahead of me. I'd best get a headstart now.

In my opinion, the author... and all of us earth-bound humans bored with our mundane life... miss the fact that we don't need superheroes to experience the mystical, amazing, and unbelievable: simply trying to comprehend atoms, energy, and supernovas is enough superpower for me for one day.

-- SJ

Felicitous News

Felicity Marie was born at 8:30 this morning. She weighed 5 lbs, 3 oz, a nice little size. She's in NICU right now so they can observe her, and will have x-rays later to check her lungs. But evidently she's having no initial problems. Thank you very much for praying. Meanwhile, Camie is being traded around among various family members, eating cookies, going to the mall, and figuring that having a baby sister isn't half bad.

Felicity shares a birthday with her Uncle Neil. And December 14 is an especially significant day in the Roberts/McAdory family: it was the official beginning of Christmas every year. We never put up a tree until after the 14th. Mom said it was so Neil could have a birthday separate from Christmas, but the tradition went to Neil's head, and he says it's because a curse would fall on the family otherwise. Now with Felicity's arrival, I suppose the legend is pretty much set in stone.

Welcome to Felicity, and thank you all for your prayers!

-- SJ

Pray for a Safe Arrival

My mom called today to say that Rosemary is being induced, and should deliver Felicity soon. She went in for her weekly ultrasound, and her amniotic fluid was too low. They estimate that the baby should weigh about 5 pounds, which isn't a very scary weight. But there still may be problems with Felicity's lungs, so please pray for safety and wisdom. Thank you!

-- SJ

A Christmas Poem

Four years ago, I was driving home and listening to the radio. The song, "Mary, Did You Know?" was playing, and I was struck by the contrast between what Mary saw (a newborn son) and what was true (that newborn son was also her creator). When I got home, I wrote a poem about it, and Lindsay, Evan, and I read it at the Chestnut Hill Christmas Eve service.

Last Friday night, at the annual HSLDA Christmas Party, two legal assistants with great voices helped me read it. I thought people might like it.

O, Mary, See

Your newborn baby
Not contained even by immortal eternity
Imprisoned by hatred of mortals

See the little hands
That made pinwheels of galaxies
Impaled on cruel spikes

Observe the minute perfection of His tiny feet
Feet that ran the Milky Way, leaving traces of stars in His wake
Fastened to a wooden pole

The dainty ears like ocean shells
That heard melodies sung by ancient stars
Heard "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

Lips smiling at secrets only infants know
The mouth that spoke the universe into being
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do"

A head already covered with wisps of curly hair
Enclosing the mind that envisioned all of existence
The mind that loved all of existence

Born to bring you joy
To fulfill plans and promises old before Eden
To save us all.


May God bless your Christmas, and may you come to know better the Incarnate Son of God, born of a virgin, who by his death and resurrection has purchased for us eternal life.

--DJ

Through the Wardrobe

On Saturday, Leah G. and I dropped my kids off at a neighbor's house and hurried to town. It was very important that we get there on time. We had a bare half-hour until we met with Aslan.

Yes, in a rare reversal of fortune, I got to see a movie before Darren did. And Leah and I have been waiting for weeks for this particular movie. I can't say that "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" was the most spectacular movie I've ever seen. Parts of it were a little clunky, as if the screenwriters said, "People will be looking for this part, so let's put it in here. Okay, off we go now!" However, there was a benefit to their caution: Lewis' full story is in the movie, and Aslan himself is deep without being ponderous. I loved the overall experience. It certainly made Narnia beautiful. I want to live in Narnia now -- preferably, Leah and I decided, in Cair Paravel.

Leah was the ideal viewing companion: we whispered remarks to one another throughout the film. Some of the comments were relevant: "The kids are cast perfectly." Some of them simply notes of interest: "Father Christmas is wearing a wedding ring." And some of them simply female: "I love Susan's dress! I want a dress like Susan's!" "Is it non-wrinkle?" "Well, you know, no starch or elastic to be found from one end of the country to the other."

Then, today, I talked to the neighbor who had kept the kids. She grew up in a secular home and knows very little about Christian culture, only recently attending church at all. She exclaimed, "Oh, I wanted to tell you, today at church the pastor preached on the Narnia movie! Apparently C.S. Lewis was a really strong Christian and you can make his story into all kinds of symbolism." Well, yes, that's why I teared up when Aslan appeared onscreen, and again when the Stone Table broke. And hurray to that pastor for revealing the message behind the movie.

Darren still has to see it, which we hope to make a date to do... although if need be, I'll let him go out and see it on his own so he doesn't have to wait too long. But I intend to see it at least once more, before buying in on DVD

-- SJ

* As a side note: Stuart and Addie saw the online preview once or twice. They liked it. Now it's hard to walk through the house without stepping on Aslan. He eats breakfast with Stuart, hides in our Game Closet, and been occupied in other ways as well: I've heard mention of "Mrs. Aslan" and "Baby Aslans."

Pictures of Cute Kids

Addie and Stuart recently visited a fire station. I wish I could have gone with them!

--DJ

Survey from QOC

I'm a sucker for surveys.

Seven things to do before I die:
1. Visit England and see Stonehenge and Glastonbury
2. Visit Poland
3. Have either a short story or poetry published
4. See my grandchildren baptized
5. Own a home with a fireplace and a library
6. Ride in a limousine
7. Read “War and Peace”

Seven things I cannot do:
1. Finish “War and Peace” – I started it 3 times and got bogged down every time by all the Russian names
2. Fix cars
3. Get too excited about the relative merits of “Merry Christmas” vs. “Happy Holidays.” “Season’s Greetings,” on the other hand, always annoys me.
4. Write believable, non-expository dialogue
5. Enjoy washing dishes
6. Eat/drink anything caffeinated after 5:00 p.m.
7. Pack bag lunches

Seven things that attract me to Sara:
1. Her sense of humor
2. Her writing ability
3. Her dimple
4. Her ability to make interesting conversations about even mundane things
5. Her creativity in playing with the kids
6. Her unqualified support of me
7. Her desire to get closer to God

Seven things I say most often:
1. Okay.
2. Let’s go.
3. I love you.
4. Good morning/afternoon, this is Darren. How can I help you?
5. Hello, Gorgeous.
6. I just read on a blog today that…
7. I just found a great new author.

Seven books or authors that I love:
1. J.R.R. Tolkien
2. Pope John Paul the Great
3. Kathleen Norris
4. Richard Foster
5. Robert Webber
6. Robert Jordan (the first 6 Wheel of Time books)
7. Patricia McKillip

Seven movies I would watch over and over again:
1. The Lord of the Rings trilogy
2. Ladyhawke
3. X-Men I & II
4. Pride & Prejudice (the 6-hour version)
5. Princess Bride
6. Joseph (the Ted Turner version)
7. Toy Story I & II

I've probably forgotten some things here, but that's a start anyway.

--DJ

Special Thanksgiving Dispensation

We believe that we're living in a different Thanksgiving dispensation, so that the former rituals of turkey for Thanksgiving no longer apply... oh, sorry, that's not what I meant.

Thanks to y'all who posted what you're thankful for. I think we posted our Thanksgiving Tree request too close to the holidays (giving all you ungrateful people the benefit of the doubt). But that's okay: we ended up not doing a Thanksgiving Tree anyway. But you still have time to comment, because what I plan to do instead is hang the Thankfulness comments on our Christmas tree. After all, Christmas is just as good a time to be thankful. And you don't have to have turkey, either.

-- SJ

Recent Randomizer Remarks

"Toys don't have seeds."

*

"Yay! I have fifty cents! Now we can get married because it isn't Halloween anymore!"

*

Daddy: "They are missionaries who go to Thailand, which is a long way away, and tell boys and girls about Jesus."

The Randomizer: "Yes! And Spider-man helps them!"

-- SJ

Laughing All the Way

"Hey, I have a joke! Refrigerator?"

"I don't know."

"Butter! Hahahahahahaha!"

And that's only one of the many side-splitting comedy routines that Stuart brings to our lives. And to think, he's only three years old!

That's right... Today he's three years old, and amazingly funny. He watched the video of his birthday party this morning, and doubled over with giggles at the part where I was trying to film guests and he kept sticking a plastic horse up into the camera. At church on Sunday, he said all the liturgical responses at all the right times, only he added "-y" on the end of everything: "But deliver us from evily." "Christ has diedy, Christ is riseny, Christ will come againy." "Ameny!"

Almost as soon as Stuart emerged from the newborn-blob stage, he's been the life of the party. Darren and I tried for a year and a half to make Addie laugh, without much success; Stuart was cracking her up by the time he was a year old. He's just a happy boy.

The above "joke," by the way, is something he got from a Bob the Builder episode. I unfortunately didn't hear the original exchange myself, so I have no idea what the joke is supposed to be. Stuart thinks it's genuinely funny in its present form, however. His laughter is contagious, so we always laugh, which confirms his belief that he's the funniest thing walking.

It's been a jolly three years. I can't wait to see what the years ahead hold!

-- SJ (who, obviously, is quite proud of her SJ)

Update on Rosemary

I talked to my sister last week. The situation went from hospitalization to partial bedrest to simply "don't overexert yourself." It seems that the fluid level is on the low end of normal, so everything is stable. Still be in prayer for the baby, however, as there is still a lung mass present, which offers all kinds of unknown complications. Rose and Matt thank you for praying.

-- SJ

A Thanksgiving Request

Dear Friends,

It's time for our occasional tradition of a Thanksgiving tree. Please comment briefly with things that you are thankful for, and then we write them out on pieces of paper, tape them on a branch, and use the resultant tree as a table centerpiece for Thanksgiving. It's been lots of fun the years that we've done it!

We'll post a picture of the tree. Sparseness will reflect badly on your gratitude. (There, anyone feel guilty yet?)

--DJ (with comments from SJ, who is scratching his hair, one of the many reasons he is thankful for her)

An Interesting Book

Last night, I read Arena by Karen Hancock. It's a fairly well done Christian fantasy, and I'd recommend it.

There were several good parts that I really liked. I liked Hancock's metaphor of wading through water (baptism) as Callie becomes a Christian, and I was impressed by Hancock's insistence that Christianity is a war, against both external demons and internal sins. In fact, the Publisher's Weekly review on Amazon cautions against the violence. Hancock also isn't afraid to mention romantic/sexual attraction, but she doesn't overdo it either.

What I didn't like: There were one or two glaring spots of clunky exposition. It appeared that she had to get information across to the reader, so it was dropped into the Guide's briefing (pastor's sermon), which went on for 3 pages. Also, the book's view of the Church is pretty low - almost everything is about individual relationships with the Christ figure.

But the main problem I have with it is that I don't think it's Christian. It's Gnostic.

The heroine is sucked out of the real world into the Arena, and the entire book is about escaping the Arena. The Arena, which stands for the world, is unreal, corrupt, and except for a few areas, under the dominion of demons. The only hope is escape to heaven. The Christ figure appears as a human, but it's questionable whether he is actually human or whether he just appears to be one (the heresy of Docetism).

But the most explicitly Gnostic statement is when the Christ figure says "The real you is not this outward flesh; it's the part that thinks and feels and remembers and decides. Your soul resides in your body as your body resides in your clothes -- that is your true self." And that is about as Gnostic as you can get. It certainly isn't Christianity, which proclaims belief in its most basic creeds in the resurrection of the body - "this outward flesh," as Hancock calls it.

I liked the book, though. It made me think -- and it's rare that fantasy, Christian or otherwise, makes me do that.

--DJ

A Party

We just finished having a birthday party for Stuart, who is turning three on Tuesday. There were seven little boys and a little girl here, besides Stuart and Addie. Ages ranged from 2 to almost 6, and personalities ranged from aggressive to shy. The noise level was rather high for the entire two hours.

We finished off the party by dumping out 4 garbage bags of balloons that Sara and I had blown up last night. This was an instant hit, especially when the older boys found out that they could throw them at me and I would throw them back. The balloon fight soon degenerated into bucking bronco games.

Sara now says that a requirement for little boy parties is to have at least one Daddy there.

--DJ

P.S. Addie and I, the two introverts of the family, will now spend the entire day recuperating and basking in the silence.

Prayer for Rosemary and Felicity

My mom told me today that my sister Rosemary has been hospitalized since yesterday while the doctors are monitoring the amniotic fluid level for her baby (she's seven months along). Normally it wouldn't be an enormous deal for the baby to come early, but little Felicity already has trouble with her lungs so an early birth isn't desirable. They've been giving Rosemary fluid, and she was to have an ultrasound today to see if it's made any difference. I don't know any results yet, but it's very worrisome. Please pray that things will smooth out and Felicity will be all right.

-- SJ

Something a Father Did Right

I had a very conflicted relationship with my stepfather. He didn't understand women (unfortunate, as he lived with three) and I was a hypersensitive teenager. He wanted to spare me the mistakes he made himself, but the way he communicated it made me feel accused of things I never did. He died when I was twenty, and I've spent the subsequent eight years working through memories, understanding him more, and apologizing a lot.

And I've realized that there were some things he did that I took completely for granted. One of those things was the greatest favor he could pay an awkward teenager with a keen sense of failure: he told me I was pretty.

It was a usual part of Sunday mornings when we came downstairs dressed for church. Either, "You look very nice," or, "I get to go to church with the three prettiest ladies in the county." He always forgot that his favorite color was purple, but we knew because he always noticed when we wore it. His compliments weren't very polished: he once told me after I'd gotten a haircut, "Your hair looks nice. Did you brush it?" I pretended to be indignant. But I still remember the compliment.

I've always taken it as a credit to myself that I never went sneaking off to meet boys during those years. Now I realize that it's probably because I knew my father thought I was pretty and funny, so I found the approval I wanted at home. I don't think he realized that, in all his misguided efforts to keep me unhurt and unscathed, he really was doing it right all the time.

Several of my friends are parents now. To you fathers of little girls: whatever else you do, remember to tell her -- often and with great frequency -- that she's pretty.

-- SJ

A Post-Election Haiku

Gray foggy drizzle
Election signs droop, tired
It's November 9.

--DJ

Happy Birthday to Lindsay

It's my sister's birthday today, and I'd like to publicly thank God for her. I remember when she was born; because my mom had some serious health problems during the pregnancy, Lindsay was known as the "Miracle Baby."

Lindsay is a very cheerful person, and she brings joy to everyone who knows her. I'm very proud of her recent participation in drama, and I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of play she'll be in next.

It was due to Lindsay that I got to go to England. She decided that she wanted her senior trip to be something special, so she and I went over and spent two weeks touring London, Scotland, and Wales. That trip is one of the highlights of my life, and it wouldn't have happened without Lindsay deciding to "go for it."

I really enjoyed it when Lindsay lived here in Virginia, although I understand there were some serious questions about our alleged brother-sister relationship raised at the office by people who couldn't understand how in the world two people so very different could possibly be related.

Six and a half years ago, I asked Lindsay to check out Sara Roberts at a party we were going to, as possible wife potential for me. Lindsay approved, showing excellent taste. She also very carefully did not tell me that Mom had already told her that I was interested in Sara, which shows typical Lindsay discretion.

God bless you, Lindsay! You're a great sister, and I'm so glad that God put you in our family!

--DJ (also known as "Darn" to my sister)

A Fact You Could Live A Happy Life Without Knowing

"Fertility drugs given to women today to make them produce more eggs are extracted from the urine of menopausal nuns in Italy."

-- "The Genius of China," Robert Temple (1985)

SJ

The Feast of All Saints

So maybe we were a bit sketchy on the "all saints" part, but the food sure was good. Tuesday night was our Fourth Annual All Saints Day party, and was a success yet again. I can say so, not because Darren and I plan such smashing parties (although they're not half-bad...) but because our guests make it so much fun.

The best part, again, was the food. We assigned everyone a saint, and each person brought food relating to that saint. My apologies if this list gets a little long, but the resulting spread was so entertaining that I've decided just to transcribe the explanations. (Note: Even the single guys did their own cooking.)

Joneses:
Thomas the Apostle (Doubting Thomas).
Food: Chai tea latte, curry (made from scratch, no less, by Darren!), and lemon cookies.
Connection: Thomas traditionally was a missionary to India. And you might be able to relate the cookies to Thomas, but we doubt it.

Grace:
Basil the Great
Food: Smoked prosciuttio, peas, and pasta with basil.
Connection: It's spelled the same.

Katie:
Joan of Arc
Food: Cookies and apples.
Connection: Cookie recipe is an old French one. And the apples... because Joan was in her father's produce area (he owned 30 acres) the first time she received a vision. Thus apples = produce, produce = visions.

John Caleb:
George
Food: Scones
Connection: St. George is the patron saint of England. Scones are a traditional English food. Hence, the connection.

Gabe:
Patrick
Food: Toad-in-the-Hole (he added, If it's bad, it becomes "Frog-in-the-Bog")
Connection: This is a traditional Irish dish -- which was also exported to Australia, suitable for the patron saint of Ireland and Melbourne. This is the Australian version, made with bulk sausage and applesauce.

Leah:
Teresa of Avila
Food: Tuna and rice meatloaf
Connection: Avila is in Spain, and this is a Spanish dish. (Note: Leah's first plan was to ask a missionary friend for some Spanish recipes; the reply was that she had some good ones, but they were all in Spanish.)

Suzanne:
Nicholas
Food: Salmon wraps and turkey wraps
Connection: Patron saint of fishermen and Bishop of Myra, which is in modern-day Turkey.

Charlessa and Jesse:
Anthony(s)
Food: Resurrection rolls
Connections: St. Anthony the Great lived in tombs, made bread for six months at a time. St. Anthony of Padua: a widow gave bread/corn to poor because the saint answered her prayer to resurrect her son.

Peter and Kelly:
Ambrose of Milan
Food: Multiple bags of Milano cookies
Connection: Milan... Milano... get it? The Sauers actually couldn't attend, but Peter obliged us with an emailed (original) history of Ambrose's life. It wasn't exactly educational, but it was a big hit.

Will:
Sir Thomas More
Food: Baked apple crisp and whipped cream
Connections: Sir Thomas More is the patron saint of judges and lawyers. He was born on Milk Street, hence whipped cream. He was imprisoned in the Tower of London, hence wheat/oat crust (bread and water diet). He wrote Utopia, which was mentioned in Ever After, which featured apple throwing, hence apples.

***

Added to the feasting was our traditional trivia game (it changes every year, but there's *always* a trivia game); a lovely sing-through of "For All the Saints"; a responsive reading of an evening prayer; and lots of visiting. This party is one of the highlights of our year. For all our friends who are too distant to join us, just think of the cool Saints' parties we'll have in Heaven!

-- SJ

From Children to Sainthood

A quote from Touchstone magazine, in an article about couples choosing not to have any children:

"Parenthood is not a hobby, but represents one of the most crucial opportunities for the making of saints found in this life."

As I've grown into my calling as a mother, this perspective has brightened the dark corners many times. Sometimes it's great having children, and sometimes I love being Mama. But other times aren't great at all, and often I feel as if I'm doing more harm than good to these trusting little souls. That's when I recall wisdom like the statement above: what I'm doing isn't a hobby, but a calling. I'm not only nuturing two young souls, but my own soul is growing. Between marriage and parenthood, I'm a much richer person, far closer to God, than I ever could have been on my own.

-- SJ

Christian Originals

I was browsing through the CBD catalogue, and a thought struck me. (Ouch!) (Sorry, reverting to my Adventures in Odyssey days.) Page after page of Christian literary and video culture but most of it was -- to use a highly technical term -- copycat culture.

There was a series of books called "Faith Grrlz." The usual array of t-shirts with Christianized commercial logos. Do you like [insert secular entertainment]? Then you'll love [insert Christian copycat]!

I don't object to it to some degree. We all live in the same culture, so the same topics, emphases, and styles attract secular and Christian alike. But after several pages, I wondered, Don't we ever come up with any ideas on our own? Do we always have to let "the world" think of it, and then Christianize it?

(Ironically, no thought in this post is original, since there's been a debate over Christian copyculture for years.)

I came up with two entertainment ideas that I *think* are original:

* Adventures in Odyssey
* Veggie Tales

Anybody have any other suggestions?

-- SJ

(And don't even get me started on the vast array of specialized Bibles.)

This Weekend

* This weekend I got to meet young Jane Focht. She entered (in the arms of her mother, who didn't get nearly as much attention), caught sight of me, and reached out with arms and mouth wide open. I think she even giggled. I took her immediately, of course, and exchanged pleasantries with her. I then remarked to Rose, "You said she was in the grabby stage, right?" Rose had to detach two little strong fists from my hair before I could pass Jane on to her Aunt Leah.

* This weekend I sold my bread mill. Not to Lynn, who by the way called me Friday and said that her computer was down so she didn't have my number on Monday. I sold it instead to the deserving Garber family, so here's hoping it's in as good condition as I think it is.

* This weekend I called my sister-in-law Jill to ask what kind of bread machine she has. She described and recommended hers highly in two ten-minute spurts of conversation, both of which ended when her phone died. If it hadn't been hers, though, it would have been mine, which doesn't have a real zest for life.

* This weekend we bought a bread machine. It bakes bread, desserts, cheesecakes, and even whips cream into butter. Basically all it doesn't do is sing and dance when it's done baking. I've baked two loaves of bread so far (honey oatmeal, Jill). I love baking, especially when the bulk of the work is done by something electrical while I go on with my life.

* This weekend my neighbor, who hasn't attended church in the three years we've lived here, got up Sunday morning and went to a friend's church. She's been having severe anxiety attacks, and while waiting for the medication to take effect (a matter of weeks), I think she's grasping for help. She also said that her pastor friend recommended a book -- "I'm sure you've heard of it: 'The Purpose-Driven Life'?" I did manage to keep from bleating, "Oh, good heavens, who HASN'T heard of that?!" Instead I encouraged her to read it, thinking, "Readable, approachable, safe, and she's seeking. Go ahead!" If she and her husband come to know Christ, I will be dancing with the angels.

* This weekend I had an awful Sunday morning. Darren was speaking at another church for the Gideons, which never happens. Also, I'd planned to attend a Pampered Chef party after church, which also never happens. Naturally they happened on the same day, and I couldn't find anyone to keep the kids. So my party gave way. My pastor's wife keeps reminding me that God honors our sacrifices, even a little one like putting aside our pleasure. But it's still hard to buck up in the midst of disappointment. (This is why there's not a series of books entitled "Sara Dinsmore.") And then when I got ready to leave for church, I misplaced my keys. Not a big deal, except that I had the bulletins and the psalm print-outs for responsive reading. I made it to church fifteen minutes late (in the Jones household, you might as well roll over and die if you're that late). And nobody really minded, since after all church can go on without a bulletin. The rest of the day was better.

* This weekend I worked on a costume for Addie. It consists of a pillowcase with three holes cut in it, and a tablecloth with tucks sewed into it. My mind see-sawed as I worked: "It's Sunday. I wonder if, in my ATI years, this would count as 'working.'" "Oh, it's okay. I'm only sewing." "But I'm making a Halloween costume!" "Yes, but it's one of Jesus' mother Mary, so that's okay." We're dressing Addie up as Mary because her middle name is Marie. She's pretty pleased with it, although if Mary attitude toward babies was anything like Addie's, God must have provided a nanny along with the son. (Stuart's middle name is Michael. Wings and a sword, here we come!)

* This weekend was all too short, as most weekends are. Addie, on her way to bed, announced, "After bedtime it will be Monday!" And that's something to cheer about, or my last name's not Dinsmore!

-- SJ

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to Darren! Here are a few words from eyewitnesses as to what a great man Darren is:

A: Daddy plays Scrabble with us.

S: Daddy plays Go with us.

Note: Mama mentioned, as an example to get them started, that Daddy plays games.

A: Daddy doesn't steal.

A and S: Daddy chases us.

I don't think it can be stated any more clearly that that, folks. Happy 32nd to a wonderful guy!

-- the rest of the Joneses

How Does the Holy Spirit Speak to You?

I want to buy a bread machine, which I'll actually use, so I decided to sell my wheat mill, which I never use. I know, I know, it's a serious repudiation of my homeschooling values to get rid of a wheat mill, and even worse that it's one I've hardly used; but at least I'm able to advertise it as "nearly new condition."

We emailed it around on a homeschool email list. I got one response immediately: Lynn called, a bit brusque but not unfriendly, and said she was interested. She also wanted to "bargain" with me. I was a little puzzled: these mills sell for $200. You can get them online for $160. I was selling mine for $120. Wouldn't that already be defined as a "bargain"? But I cheerfully agreed, and asked her what she had in mind.

Silence. Then, "Well, what comes to me is $75."

I want to get a bread mill with this money, and I'm not limiting my choices because of someone's over-developed sense of thrift. I countered with $100, and, with a sigh, Lynn accepted. We chatted some more, during which she said she was involved in an effort to Save the Farms. "What is that?" I asked. "Well, you know that farms are disappearing all over the world! I'll try to make you a copy of the video 'The Future of Food.'" And that, evidently, was all the explanation I needed. We ended the conversation by arranging that she'd come pick it up the next morning around 8:00.

It wasn't until 7:30 the next morning that I realized -- duh moment here -- she hadn't asked for directions and I hadn't given them. I called her and said I'd drop by her house after I finished some errands. By this time I was having dark premonitions about the viability of this transaction. So I wasn't surprised when she called back shortly before I left the house.

"Hi. This is Lynn." Silence. "About the mill." Silence. "I think I might need to pray about it a little."

"Okay." It was a good price for a mill, but after all, $100 is a lot of money for a homeschooling family.

"Well, see, I'm a little confused! I don't know whether I should buy the mill, or if you should donate it to a church!"

This time the silence was on my end.

"It would be a write-off, of course."

I said something inane, groping for some intelligent response, as she hurried on to explain that as more churches join up with the Save the Farm cause, they would need wheat mills. So could I give her a week to ten days to see what she needed to do?

I recovered and explained that I wanted this money for a bread machine (notwithstanding her offer that I could borrow hers anytime I wanted), and I didn't really want to wait a week if I didn't have to. Yes, yes, she understood completely. Perhaps I could give her till Monday? "Yes, Monday is fine. And also -- unless the Lord indicates otherwise to me, I am not interested in donating this mill. I want to sell it."

So now it's Monday, and I haven't heard from Lynn. I'm thinking perhaps I've proved lackluster in my support of the universal cause of Save the Farms. And even worse, I appear unresponsive to the leading of the Holy Spirit. I wonder, if I do talk to Lynn again, if the Spirit will speak through me for her direction. I'm not sure what He'll say, but I think it will be something to edify and instruct her, possibly:

"Why don't YOU buy the mill and YOU donate it to the church? After all, it's a write-off."

-- SJ

A Movie List

I don't really watch a lot of movies. I prefer to decide ahead of time whether I'll like it, and then based on that judgment I decide whether to see it or not. It saves the effort of individual evaluations. Since throwing another person into my movie-watching equation, however, I've seen more than I would otherwise. The same goes for Darren, and sometimes we've been surprised. So we made a list.

A movie list is very revealing. You can learn a lot about a person by the movies he/she likes or dislikes. In this case, I doubt our list will reveal anything very astonishing to our circle of friends.


Movies I Thought I Wouldn't Like (But Was Wrong):

Sara:
Spider-man
X-Men
Master and Commander
Shrek II (and I really ought to go back and give #1 another try)
Charlie's Angels
Ocean's 11

Darren:
A Room With a View
Clueless
Bladerunner

Movies I Thought I Would Like (But Was Wrong):

Sara:
Pirates of the Caribbean
Shrek I
Charlie's Angels II
Evita (I've tried twice, okay?!)

Darren:
Van Helsing
Mr. & Mrs. Smith
Charlie's Angels II
Batman and Robin
The Avengers

Movies We're Always Glad to See:
Princess Bride
A Room With A View (S)
Singin' In The Rain (S)
the Toy Storys
Ladyhawke (D)
Bend It Like Beckham
X-Men (D)
LOTR (D)
Pride & Prejudice (the 6-hour one) (S)
The original Avengers series, which isn't a movie but cool anyway

The Randomizer Strikes Again

Addie had finished her bath and was examining her raisin-like fingers. I heard her murmur,

"The power of God!"

Then she added,

"The power of wrinkled fingers!"

The Randomizer has spoken.

-- SJ