Who Am I
I hate how this blog signs my entries with "Honey." It's suppose to say "Earth Girl" and I can't figure out how to change it. Oh well, the honey comes from "Honey Bee," a name I entered when I set up the blog. I am NOT the type of person who likes to be called Honey and I am NOT one to call others Honey.
I've also been thinking about changing my description on this blog. It defines me by roles and former roles - wife, mother, marketer. The gardener is a little better since it is one of my passions. At Christmas, I became intrigued with the phrase, "wild and sweet" from "I heard the bells on Christmas day..and wild and sweet their words repeat..." I wondered if the phrase, "Martha, wild and sweet" better defined me. What do you think?
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Monday, March 08, 2004
We launched the church's website yesterday. This has been absorbing my time for quite a while, but I had a fantastic group of people working with me to make it happen. Go poke around. Let me know if you see anything that needs to be changed, added or clarified. We are starting the "tidy it up" phase as well as deciding what to put up next.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
First Bouquet
I just picked my first bouquet from my garden - nine crocus in various shades of yellow. They first bloomed on Friday, but now it is snowing with a bitter wind blowing. I forced a crabapple branch (more accurately a limb) that the propane truck knocked off about a month ago. This six foot limb is bursting into bloom next to my bed. And I bought three white hyacinths at the store last week, so the house smells like spring.
I just picked my first bouquet from my garden - nine crocus in various shades of yellow. They first bloomed on Friday, but now it is snowing with a bitter wind blowing. I forced a crabapple branch (more accurately a limb) that the propane truck knocked off about a month ago. This six foot limb is bursting into bloom next to my bed. And I bought three white hyacinths at the store last week, so the house smells like spring.
Friday, February 27, 2004
In an hour or so, Ricky will be under anesthesia having his wisdom teeth pulled, or rather cut out. They haven't emerged yet, but are ready to burst through and wreck havoc with his orthodontia. I'm waiting to wake him since he can't eat or drink, and the longer he is up, the louder the cereal box will call to him. He lost TV and computer priveleges because of the homework situation (see below), but I took him to Hollywood Video last night to rent several DVDs for his recuperation. He must have selected 957 different movies until, finally, I grabbed three and walked to the register. He's in media heaven.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Amygdala
Samson, our yellow lab, celebrated his second birthday yesterday, 14 years old in dog years. That means I have three 14 year old males in my house! Sam seems to be settling down, finally, and is becoming a good house dog and watch dog. I see the same thing with my sons, on the cusp of manhood, there are glimmers of hope. Here's an excerpt from a health report Ricky did this year:
"Scientists recently found out that the amygdala, 'a tiny bundle of nerves mediates emotions such as fear, anger and anxiety,' takes over teenagers’ brains. As teens get older, their frontal lobes, reason and judgment, control the emotions from the amygdala."
Samson, our yellow lab, celebrated his second birthday yesterday, 14 years old in dog years. That means I have three 14 year old males in my house! Sam seems to be settling down, finally, and is becoming a good house dog and watch dog. I see the same thing with my sons, on the cusp of manhood, there are glimmers of hope. Here's an excerpt from a health report Ricky did this year:
"Scientists recently found out that the amygdala, 'a tiny bundle of nerves mediates emotions such as fear, anger and anxiety,' takes over teenagers’ brains. As teens get older, their frontal lobes, reason and judgment, control the emotions from the amygdala."
Boredom
Let them be bored. That is one of my parenting philosophies.
When every minute is filled with structured activities, there is no time for imagination. And that means no electronic stimulation - games, TV, movies. After a few minutes of boredom, it is amazing what they decide to do. Ron tore apart two old computers, then rebuilt it into one faster, more stable machine. Rick baked a cake from scratch.
It is a 12 hour trip to Mom's, and as we headed down there for Christmas, a voice from the backseat said, "It is good to be bored. It slows time down." I smiled...until I realized we had only been on the road an hour!
Let them be bored. That is one of my parenting philosophies.
When every minute is filled with structured activities, there is no time for imagination. And that means no electronic stimulation - games, TV, movies. After a few minutes of boredom, it is amazing what they decide to do. Ron tore apart two old computers, then rebuilt it into one faster, more stable machine. Rick baked a cake from scratch.
It is a 12 hour trip to Mom's, and as we headed down there for Christmas, a voice from the backseat said, "It is good to be bored. It slows time down." I smiled...until I realized we had only been on the road an hour!
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Faith Story
I've been leading the charge to a new web site for our church. Because the church is people and not a building, under worship, we are posting faith stories. To get this off the ground, I volunteered to tell my story. Here it is.
This is a story about God.
No, actually it is God’s story. At one time, I thought it was my story, but how wrong I was. It was always about God; it is still about God; and it will always be about God. It is the story of God’s faithfulness to me, about His Word and how it transformed me and pulled me back, about the people He placed in my life, and the situations through which He spoke to me. But, mostly, it is about His faithfulness to one of His children when she pushed Him away.
I grew up “soaked” in the Word, in my church, in youth group activities, and in a family of strong, spiritual believers. I gave my heart to Jesus when I was 13 after hearing Missionary Ken Enright speak at my church, convinced I was destined for medical missionary work. I spent the rest of my high school years growing in God’s word.
Then I went to college.
Partly because of the culture at that time (late ‘60’s); partly because of a series of bad choices I made; and partly because Satan, while strong, works in very subtle ways….my heart became divided. I tried to “serve two masters”: God and my own selfish desires. I truly became lost…searching for “the truth” in anything and everything. It was the climate of the late sixties. I even wrote a college paper that attempted to reconcile the truth of all religions as one and, given the anti-Christian views of my professor, received a high mark for it.
The paradox? As I drifted farther and farther from God’s way and more and more into my way, I liked myself less and less. And as my self-esteem plummeted, I made bad personal choices and bad relationship choices. After college, I poured myself into my new career, eager to fill the ever-growing void inside myself, convinced that it was just a matter of finding the “perfect fit.” At one point, I scribbled in my journal, “I know this isn’t true because of who I am, but it seems like good and evil, God and Satan, are fighting over me.” God was ever faithful. He stood there, and He loved me. He filled me with a sense of the battle raging inside me.
God began the transformation of my heart in earnest in the mid-80’s. I began listening to Christian radio. Why? Maybe because my husband at that time forbade it or maybe because my heart knew better than my head what I needed. What I know now is that it was God at work. He drew me to songs and programs that spoke to me.
He even drew from my own lips what my heart was feeling, what He was trying to work in my life. One summer day as I was driving down Lindenwood Avenue near St. Francis College, a prayer escaped from my lips: “Sanctify me.” I was stunned. What had I said? I didn’t even know what “sanctify” meant…and when I found out, I laughed. How could I even consider being a saint? My sins (or so I thought) were too many, too deep--my unworthiness huge. But God was faithful to His words in Romans 8:26: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
I was led to a study of Romans, where I learned about God’s grace over and over, verse after verse. (I wondered, had I never learned about “grace” during my “church” years?) So “hungry and thirsty” was I that I picked up C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity, a gift from a friend that I had not been able to get through ten years prior to this. Now I ate it up. I began to truly understand what it meant to be a Christian, that I needed Jesus Christ to bridge the gap between myself and God.
The summer before, my husband had left me, amidst some suspected infidelities on his part, and I was struggling to reconcile the pain, anger, and uncertainty of that part of my life with my new life in Christ. One night I decided to read the Gospel of John instead of Romans. I had read the first seven chapters when the phone rang. It was “the other woman,” confirming the infidelity of my husband. I tossed and turned afterward, but a statement kept running through my head: “The truth shall set you free.” Who had said that? Where was that from? I picked up my bible again at chapter eight and found my answer. Jesus says in verse 32: “Then you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” I was on my knees then, thanking God for His very real presence during my pain.
I began “church shopping,” basing my initial impression of each church on its sign out front. Of all the signs I saw that week, Huntertown United Methodist’s sign was the only “spiritual” one, so I attended worship that next Sunday. Reverent Jack Scott led the congregation with the singing of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I broke down. I began to feel “at home.” Then when it was announced that money was being raised for John Enright’s mission in Africa, I knew I was where God wanted me. It had been John’s father, Ken Enright, so many years ago in my home church that had first stirred my heart to begin walking (and stumbling!) with Jesus.
I stayed at HUMC, where I “fed” my spirit and grew in my faith. Two years later, I met a godly man, and soon we were married. What a blessing to be able to share our faith walk. I began to feel God’s goodness in my life again…Yet He was far from finished with me.
He provided another opportunity to show His faithfulness to me when we weren’t able to have children. Though we knew He was working in our lives, I especially struggled with the pain of being childless. As we pursued adoption, we felt God’s hand on the whole process, having been given Mark 9:37 to encourage us: “Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me.” A year later, we adopted twin five-year-old boys. They have blessed our lives immeasurably.
My “wanderings” took me to some unsavory places and hooked me up with some wild people, but through it all, God never stopped loving me, never stopped being faithful to me. In the end, I was finally on God’s way, not my own. If you are wandering or if you have a loved one who is wandering, let my story encourage you. Don’t stop seeking God and don’t stop praying. He is faithful and He is in the transformation business.
I've been leading the charge to a new web site for our church. Because the church is people and not a building, under worship, we are posting faith stories. To get this off the ground, I volunteered to tell my story. Here it is.
This is a story about God.
No, actually it is God’s story. At one time, I thought it was my story, but how wrong I was. It was always about God; it is still about God; and it will always be about God. It is the story of God’s faithfulness to me, about His Word and how it transformed me and pulled me back, about the people He placed in my life, and the situations through which He spoke to me. But, mostly, it is about His faithfulness to one of His children when she pushed Him away.
I grew up “soaked” in the Word, in my church, in youth group activities, and in a family of strong, spiritual believers. I gave my heart to Jesus when I was 13 after hearing Missionary Ken Enright speak at my church, convinced I was destined for medical missionary work. I spent the rest of my high school years growing in God’s word.
Then I went to college.
Partly because of the culture at that time (late ‘60’s); partly because of a series of bad choices I made; and partly because Satan, while strong, works in very subtle ways….my heart became divided. I tried to “serve two masters”: God and my own selfish desires. I truly became lost…searching for “the truth” in anything and everything. It was the climate of the late sixties. I even wrote a college paper that attempted to reconcile the truth of all religions as one and, given the anti-Christian views of my professor, received a high mark for it.
The paradox? As I drifted farther and farther from God’s way and more and more into my way, I liked myself less and less. And as my self-esteem plummeted, I made bad personal choices and bad relationship choices. After college, I poured myself into my new career, eager to fill the ever-growing void inside myself, convinced that it was just a matter of finding the “perfect fit.” At one point, I scribbled in my journal, “I know this isn’t true because of who I am, but it seems like good and evil, God and Satan, are fighting over me.” God was ever faithful. He stood there, and He loved me. He filled me with a sense of the battle raging inside me.
God began the transformation of my heart in earnest in the mid-80’s. I began listening to Christian radio. Why? Maybe because my husband at that time forbade it or maybe because my heart knew better than my head what I needed. What I know now is that it was God at work. He drew me to songs and programs that spoke to me.
He even drew from my own lips what my heart was feeling, what He was trying to work in my life. One summer day as I was driving down Lindenwood Avenue near St. Francis College, a prayer escaped from my lips: “Sanctify me.” I was stunned. What had I said? I didn’t even know what “sanctify” meant…and when I found out, I laughed. How could I even consider being a saint? My sins (or so I thought) were too many, too deep--my unworthiness huge. But God was faithful to His words in Romans 8:26: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
I was led to a study of Romans, where I learned about God’s grace over and over, verse after verse. (I wondered, had I never learned about “grace” during my “church” years?) So “hungry and thirsty” was I that I picked up C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity, a gift from a friend that I had not been able to get through ten years prior to this. Now I ate it up. I began to truly understand what it meant to be a Christian, that I needed Jesus Christ to bridge the gap between myself and God.
The summer before, my husband had left me, amidst some suspected infidelities on his part, and I was struggling to reconcile the pain, anger, and uncertainty of that part of my life with my new life in Christ. One night I decided to read the Gospel of John instead of Romans. I had read the first seven chapters when the phone rang. It was “the other woman,” confirming the infidelity of my husband. I tossed and turned afterward, but a statement kept running through my head: “The truth shall set you free.” Who had said that? Where was that from? I picked up my bible again at chapter eight and found my answer. Jesus says in verse 32: “Then you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” I was on my knees then, thanking God for His very real presence during my pain.
I began “church shopping,” basing my initial impression of each church on its sign out front. Of all the signs I saw that week, Huntertown United Methodist’s sign was the only “spiritual” one, so I attended worship that next Sunday. Reverent Jack Scott led the congregation with the singing of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I broke down. I began to feel “at home.” Then when it was announced that money was being raised for John Enright’s mission in Africa, I knew I was where God wanted me. It had been John’s father, Ken Enright, so many years ago in my home church that had first stirred my heart to begin walking (and stumbling!) with Jesus.
I stayed at HUMC, where I “fed” my spirit and grew in my faith. Two years later, I met a godly man, and soon we were married. What a blessing to be able to share our faith walk. I began to feel God’s goodness in my life again…Yet He was far from finished with me.
He provided another opportunity to show His faithfulness to me when we weren’t able to have children. Though we knew He was working in our lives, I especially struggled with the pain of being childless. As we pursued adoption, we felt God’s hand on the whole process, having been given Mark 9:37 to encourage us: “Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me.” A year later, we adopted twin five-year-old boys. They have blessed our lives immeasurably.
My “wanderings” took me to some unsavory places and hooked me up with some wild people, but through it all, God never stopped loving me, never stopped being faithful to me. In the end, I was finally on God’s way, not my own. If you are wandering or if you have a loved one who is wandering, let my story encourage you. Don’t stop seeking God and don’t stop praying. He is faithful and He is in the transformation business.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide
I've hit 40% of the states. In 1981, I took the train in a large loop out west, so I'm sure I rode through Idaho between my stop in Montana (Hi Vicki!) and Seattle. Then I'm sure I went through Utah between Las Vegas and Denver on the way back. I'd like to visit New Mexico, Alaska, Hawaii, and North Carolina, but am not sure I will make any special effort to visit South Dakota, Oklahoma, Alabama, Rhode Island and Delaware.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
She's no lady
When did "lady" become a verboten term? I fought against the moniker "girls" when I was young and now it is a almost a term of endearment. Now, it appears that the term "ladies" cannot be used.
About a year ago, a very gracious and gentle friend asked that she not be called a lady. She was raised in a genteel upper crust family and her mother was always admonishing her to "act like a lady" when she was in high spirits. OK. I understand and respect that.
Then the young females (is that OK?) in one of my husband's college classes insisted that they not be called ladies because it was prissy. Is this a trend? Did I miss something here?
When I was very young (before seatbelts), I leaned over the front seat of the car and asked, "Daddy, what's the difference between women and ladies?" He glanced at my mother and replied, "All females are women, but your mother..." pregnant pause, then "Your mother, she's a lady." Mom glowed. I glowed. And you can call me lady whether I'm acting like one or not.
When did "lady" become a verboten term? I fought against the moniker "girls" when I was young and now it is a almost a term of endearment. Now, it appears that the term "ladies" cannot be used.
About a year ago, a very gracious and gentle friend asked that she not be called a lady. She was raised in a genteel upper crust family and her mother was always admonishing her to "act like a lady" when she was in high spirits. OK. I understand and respect that.
Then the young females (is that OK?) in one of my husband's college classes insisted that they not be called ladies because it was prissy. Is this a trend? Did I miss something here?
When I was very young (before seatbelts), I leaned over the front seat of the car and asked, "Daddy, what's the difference between women and ladies?" He glanced at my mother and replied, "All females are women, but your mother..." pregnant pause, then "Your mother, she's a lady." Mom glowed. I glowed. And you can call me lady whether I'm acting like one or not.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Oh Deer
I've lived in deer country for almost 20 years so am savvy about how to avoid hitting them with my car. Sometimes, though, it is unavoidable, and the odds caught up with me Saturday night. A quick trip with Rick to the grocery store resulted in the death of a doe, $2500 damage to the 'burb, and a son who decided that he didn't want to hunt after all.
I've lived in deer country for almost 20 years so am savvy about how to avoid hitting them with my car. Sometimes, though, it is unavoidable, and the odds caught up with me Saturday night. A quick trip with Rick to the grocery store resulted in the death of a doe, $2500 damage to the 'burb, and a son who decided that he didn't want to hunt after all.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Christmas
We had an especially nice Christmas, but I still enjoyed taking down the tree and decorations.
We went to Mom's on Christmas Day and stayed until Monday. It was a nice visit, but too short. Before we left home on Christmas morning, we gave the boys the presents they found earlier. They were so surprised to get the rest of their presents at Mom's late that night. Ron told me it was the best Christmas ever!
Mom totally surprised me by giving me the corn picture, which I will cherish like she has. My great-aunt painted the corn which was grown by my great grandfather. This corn won a prize at the 1904 World's Fair at St. Louis. It is a work of art in itself as she was very talented, but the farmers in my family always said, "But look at those full ears of corn!" Mom got the picture when Grandmom died in 1965. I'm still looking for the right place to display it.
While in Arkansas, we went to the Flat Creek Dulcimer Shop in Hardy and bought a hammered dulcimer. It has a beautiful sound despite our fumbling during the learning process. Our more musically-talented friends tell us that we are trying too hard, but I've never been one to play by ear. Steve's using the tablature method to learn and I'm trying to transfer my piano method to the dulcimer. Rick picked up a harmonica but has just played with it so far.
Steve and I gave each other 6 windows for Christmas. When we remodeled we had them insulate the front screened porch so that someday we could make it a four season room. And that day has come! The windows should arrive any day. Steve is searching out freestanding corn burners for the new room, but I'm thinking flooring, furniture and window treatment.
We had an especially nice Christmas, but I still enjoyed taking down the tree and decorations.
We went to Mom's on Christmas Day and stayed until Monday. It was a nice visit, but too short. Before we left home on Christmas morning, we gave the boys the presents they found earlier. They were so surprised to get the rest of their presents at Mom's late that night. Ron told me it was the best Christmas ever!
Mom totally surprised me by giving me the corn picture, which I will cherish like she has. My great-aunt painted the corn which was grown by my great grandfather. This corn won a prize at the 1904 World's Fair at St. Louis. It is a work of art in itself as she was very talented, but the farmers in my family always said, "But look at those full ears of corn!" Mom got the picture when Grandmom died in 1965. I'm still looking for the right place to display it.
While in Arkansas, we went to the Flat Creek Dulcimer Shop in Hardy and bought a hammered dulcimer. It has a beautiful sound despite our fumbling during the learning process. Our more musically-talented friends tell us that we are trying too hard, but I've never been one to play by ear. Steve's using the tablature method to learn and I'm trying to transfer my piano method to the dulcimer. Rick picked up a harmonica but has just played with it so far.
Steve and I gave each other 6 windows for Christmas. When we remodeled we had them insulate the front screened porch so that someday we could make it a four season room. And that day has come! The windows should arrive any day. Steve is searching out freestanding corn burners for the new room, but I'm thinking flooring, furniture and window treatment.
Monday, December 22, 2003
Spring
I received my Wayside Garden catalog with “Over 120 Brand New Items!” Then I browsed over to Althaea Officinalis: MallowDrama blog and found her excellent post about spring foraging. The winter solstice was only yesterday, but I’m itching to get into my garden. My little piece of land has all of the items she mentions, so I have one spring menu planned!
I received my Wayside Garden catalog with “Over 120 Brand New Items!” Then I browsed over to Althaea Officinalis: MallowDrama blog and found her excellent post about spring foraging. The winter solstice was only yesterday, but I’m itching to get into my garden. My little piece of land has all of the items she mentions, so I have one spring menu planned!
Mary
This Christmas season I’ve been drawn to songs about Mary, mother of Jesus: Mary, Did You Know; Sing, Mary, Sing; and the classic, Ave Maria. As a Protestant, I’ve not thought much about Mary as a woman, actually a girl of 13 or 14. I've never wondered at her obedience to some outrageous request. And how do you mother the King of Kings? But, like Mary, I am pondering these things in my heart.
Do you have a Mary song to suggest?
This Christmas season I’ve been drawn to songs about Mary, mother of Jesus: Mary, Did You Know; Sing, Mary, Sing; and the classic, Ave Maria. As a Protestant, I’ve not thought much about Mary as a woman, actually a girl of 13 or 14. I've never wondered at her obedience to some outrageous request. And how do you mother the King of Kings? But, like Mary, I am pondering these things in my heart.
Do you have a Mary song to suggest?
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Here's my monthly post (that's a lame joke.) And I still don't have much to say. I have been bleak of spirit lately. No real reason, except maybe less hours of sunlight.
High School
That's been the hot topic lately as the boys have to select next year's freshman classes by this Friday. "You don't understand, I'm a teenager and I can do what I want." But parents, school counselors and teachers have prevailed. It's a bittersweet problem. We have exposed them to many things, hoping they would be curious and interested in many things. It's the secret to a rich life. So the problem now is that they want to take electives and not core subjects: Spanish, applied techology (drafting and design), computer applications, theater arts, choir, speech.
Christmas Project
The boys went with their middle school youth group to deliver and decorate a Christmas tree for a mother and child who recently left a women's shelter. Rick came home pumped up. "It reminded me of the song Christmas Shoes." I'm not familiar with the song, but I bet it is a tear-jerker.
High School
That's been the hot topic lately as the boys have to select next year's freshman classes by this Friday. "You don't understand, I'm a teenager and I can do what I want." But parents, school counselors and teachers have prevailed. It's a bittersweet problem. We have exposed them to many things, hoping they would be curious and interested in many things. It's the secret to a rich life. So the problem now is that they want to take electives and not core subjects: Spanish, applied techology (drafting and design), computer applications, theater arts, choir, speech.
Christmas Project
The boys went with their middle school youth group to deliver and decorate a Christmas tree for a mother and child who recently left a women's shelter. Rick came home pumped up. "It reminded me of the song Christmas Shoes." I'm not familiar with the song, but I bet it is a tear-jerker.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Saturday, November 08, 2003
Deprived Children
We are the only U.S. household without cable and without gaming systems according to my 14 year old sons. That makes them deprived and their parents depraved.
My husband and I gave away our TV after we first married and did not miss it at all. I confess, though, I bought a TV, VCR and a Lion King tape exactly ten days after we adopted the boys (at almost six years of age). I swore I would never use TV as a babysitter, but I needed a break, and so did they, from such intense emotions and the hard work of building parental attachments.
We are still stingy with watching TV and renting a movie is a "big event" at our home. We enjoy the family time immensely, and because rentals are so sparse, we can always find a good movie for the family. We watch classics (African Queen is the parent's favorite), musicals (the twins learned the songs from My Fair Lady when they were 8 years old), westerns (got to give in to the testosterone in this all male house occasionally), comedies (very difficult to find an acceptable comedy film for children, so we reverted to Love Bug. Note to self - try the Marx Brothers next time.) You get the idea.
This is not at all where I was going with the post. It has been our position not to have gaming systems in the house. The boys are free to buy their own and play all day and all night once they have their own house. Our concern is the addictive nature of games to young boys. Reality, not virtual reality, offers so much and one of our parental goals is to introduce our children to all sorts of experiences. Then they can sort it out and choose what they want to do. So we take nature hikes together, we bake together, we work wood together, we try our hands at crafts, we had a summer of photography (Ricky was Grand Champion in our county and then got a blue ribbon at state fair), we go for night cruises in the country, we watch stars, we go to the Philharmonic together, we go to art, science, history museums, and we work together.
Parents: "Life is good." Sons: "We want a PS2."
So back to the original point. No gaming system in the house.
Ron shared with me that he plans to build a cabin in the meadow next summer. Great, I think, woodworking and nature interests stuck. But no, he continued, "And I will buy a PS2, computer, TV, DVD to put in it, so they won't be in the house."
We are the only U.S. household without cable and without gaming systems according to my 14 year old sons. That makes them deprived and their parents depraved.
My husband and I gave away our TV after we first married and did not miss it at all. I confess, though, I bought a TV, VCR and a Lion King tape exactly ten days after we adopted the boys (at almost six years of age). I swore I would never use TV as a babysitter, but I needed a break, and so did they, from such intense emotions and the hard work of building parental attachments.
We are still stingy with watching TV and renting a movie is a "big event" at our home. We enjoy the family time immensely, and because rentals are so sparse, we can always find a good movie for the family. We watch classics (African Queen is the parent's favorite), musicals (the twins learned the songs from My Fair Lady when they were 8 years old), westerns (got to give in to the testosterone in this all male house occasionally), comedies (very difficult to find an acceptable comedy film for children, so we reverted to Love Bug. Note to self - try the Marx Brothers next time.) You get the idea.
This is not at all where I was going with the post. It has been our position not to have gaming systems in the house. The boys are free to buy their own and play all day and all night once they have their own house. Our concern is the addictive nature of games to young boys. Reality, not virtual reality, offers so much and one of our parental goals is to introduce our children to all sorts of experiences. Then they can sort it out and choose what they want to do. So we take nature hikes together, we bake together, we work wood together, we try our hands at crafts, we had a summer of photography (Ricky was Grand Champion in our county and then got a blue ribbon at state fair), we go for night cruises in the country, we watch stars, we go to the Philharmonic together, we go to art, science, history museums, and we work together.
Parents: "Life is good." Sons: "We want a PS2."
So back to the original point. No gaming system in the house.
Ron shared with me that he plans to build a cabin in the meadow next summer. Great, I think, woodworking and nature interests stuck. But no, he continued, "And I will buy a PS2, computer, TV, DVD to put in it, so they won't be in the house."
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
Aunts
Fall break was last weekend, so the boys and I headed for Indy for a few days to visit my niece. Aimee is a delightful young woman, gracious hostess and fun. The boys were quite taken with their beautiful 25 year old cousin. By balancing boy activities with women activities, fun was had by all. Pacers game and Art Institute, Indy 500 museum and canal walk, Jillians and long conversations.
During one of our conversations, Aimee started quizzing me about my life, anxious to hear my story. I was nonplussed. This is what I do with my aunts!
Fall break was last weekend, so the boys and I headed for Indy for a few days to visit my niece. Aimee is a delightful young woman, gracious hostess and fun. The boys were quite taken with their beautiful 25 year old cousin. By balancing boy activities with women activities, fun was had by all. Pacers game and Art Institute, Indy 500 museum and canal walk, Jillians and long conversations.
During one of our conversations, Aimee started quizzing me about my life, anxious to hear my story. I was nonplussed. This is what I do with my aunts!
River Time
There was a full moon last night so we went down to the river to burn off the brush pile created by the new trail Eddie blazed. By the full moon and bright firelight, Steve wrote poetry, Ron started on the code for his first computer game, and Rick drew a cartoon satire of Lord of the Rings while Eddie and I played lap dulcimers. He taught me how to accompany him on an old russion folk song. He was all over the place while I played 1-2 and-3-4 in a minor key. What a treat for a weeknight.
There was a full moon last night so we went down to the river to burn off the brush pile created by the new trail Eddie blazed. By the full moon and bright firelight, Steve wrote poetry, Ron started on the code for his first computer game, and Rick drew a cartoon satire of Lord of the Rings while Eddie and I played lap dulcimers. He taught me how to accompany him on an old russion folk song. He was all over the place while I played 1-2 and-3-4 in a minor key. What a treat for a weeknight.
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
Monday, November 03, 2003
Just Damn!
I let King Kitty in the house about half an hour ago and he made this strange clanging sound as he walked across the kitchen floor. Wha??? Steve is on his way to the emergency vet after removing a leg trap and I just finished cleaning up the blood. Damn those new neighbors. There is no need to set traps. Get a cat and a dog or go back to the city.
I let King Kitty in the house about half an hour ago and he made this strange clanging sound as he walked across the kitchen floor. Wha??? Steve is on his way to the emergency vet after removing a leg trap and I just finished cleaning up the blood. Damn those new neighbors. There is no need to set traps. Get a cat and a dog or go back to the city.
Thursday, October 23, 2003
I'm not a "lady who lunches" - really I'm not. That term applies to an idle woman who has too much time and money. I'm not a "lunch lady" either, although we all clearly remember a lunch lady from our elementary school days.
With that disclaimer, I had several wonderful lunches this week. Mom's home for a visit! Yesterday was especially fun. Mom, my sister, my sister-in-law and I went to the Village at Winona, a renovated resort village with an interesting history. We browsed the artisan shops and I resisted that hand-blown vase, pottery pie dish and copper double helix mobile. Then we had a long lunch with good conversation. I so enjoy the wonderful women in my family.
With that disclaimer, I had several wonderful lunches this week. Mom's home for a visit! Yesterday was especially fun. Mom, my sister, my sister-in-law and I went to the Village at Winona, a renovated resort village with an interesting history. We browsed the artisan shops and I resisted that hand-blown vase, pottery pie dish and copper double helix mobile. Then we had a long lunch with good conversation. I so enjoy the wonderful women in my family.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Yes!!!
Do not postpone putting your intentions into writing. When I completed my living will, I struggled with nutrition and hydration. Finally, I left it to my husband's discretion. This case has been positioned by some of the liberal media as "right to die." If you read the details or even look into the face of this woman, it is more like "right to kill." The most important aspect of a living will is to make sure to appoint the right person to make these painful decisions...and the decision should be painful. Otherwise you have selected the wrong person.
Do not postpone putting your intentions into writing. When I completed my living will, I struggled with nutrition and hydration. Finally, I left it to my husband's discretion. This case has been positioned by some of the liberal media as "right to die." If you read the details or even look into the face of this woman, it is more like "right to kill." The most important aspect of a living will is to make sure to appoint the right person to make these painful decisions...and the decision should be painful. Otherwise you have selected the wrong person.
Thursday, October 16, 2003
Let's Yak
Fall is here. Wet. Cold. Hostas limp from a killing frost. Field mice moving into the barn. But the paddling is still mighty fine.
"Let's yak," Renee wrote in the subject line of her e-mail. So despite the light rain and 50 degree temp, we launched her Perception kayak and my Mohawk solo into the upper St. Joe River this afternoon.
We paddled upstream to the iron bridge and, as we floated back, the sun came out. The skies were October blue, such an intense blue not seen the rest of the year. The sky and trees, mostly gold but some red, were reflected in the water for a double dose of natural beauty.
Then we sat around the campfire pit and continued to yak.
What a wonderful fall day.
Fall is here. Wet. Cold. Hostas limp from a killing frost. Field mice moving into the barn. But the paddling is still mighty fine.
"Let's yak," Renee wrote in the subject line of her e-mail. So despite the light rain and 50 degree temp, we launched her Perception kayak and my Mohawk solo into the upper St. Joe River this afternoon.
We paddled upstream to the iron bridge and, as we floated back, the sun came out. The skies were October blue, such an intense blue not seen the rest of the year. The sky and trees, mostly gold but some red, were reflected in the water for a double dose of natural beauty.
Then we sat around the campfire pit and continued to yak.
What a wonderful fall day.
Sunday, October 05, 2003
First Date
Well, date may be too strong of a word, but a young girl joined Ricky and I at Pizza Hut after his soccer game Saturday at his invitation. Normally self-assured, Ricky was a bundle of nerves, but I liked his style. He joked with her about being nervous. Of course, he also made sure that his Mom sat next to him instead of the girl.
Well, date may be too strong of a word, but a young girl joined Ricky and I at Pizza Hut after his soccer game Saturday at his invitation. Normally self-assured, Ricky was a bundle of nerves, but I liked his style. He joked with her about being nervous. Of course, he also made sure that his Mom sat next to him instead of the girl.
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