Me, I am my kids' teacher

Announcing Grant Shelton as the second place finisher for all K - 2nd graders at the Archery Contest he participated in last weekend with Campfire USA! SECOND! Signing up Grantie was an afterthought. The real archer in the family is Giles!

But so are lots of other 3rd to 5th grade kids out there, for G was edged out of the top three in his age bracket.

And Giles' friend who came with us, in the 6th grade level, placed second, for his age. Go Lane!

Giles was a champ for being ecstatic for his bro and his bud!

Grant is so proud to be getting a ribbon. The rest of us are in shock. The poor kid is left handed but right eye dominant, and that eye was dilated with a drop to help strengthen his other eye. This was also his first time to shoot real arrows at real bulls eye targets. Most of his arrows went under the target! The instructors were champs and very patient in helping him. So were the other archers behind his flight, since Grant kinda slowed down the entire tournament.

Way to go Grant. I should have taken more pictures!

Here's the second place archer.


Here's one of Giles' targets.

Posted in: on Wednesday, April 16, 2008 at at 7:46 PM 2 comments  

Has anyone seen King Corn, the little independent documentary that traces a couple of best friends who forego getting jobs after college graduation for an adventure into solving a mystery of why we are corn? We saw it last night on PBS. (Handy to have that little indie film company go along with ya).

In 2006, these dudes moved to Iowa to learn where our food comes from. They rented an acre of land, planted genetically altered corn with stalks that will grow close together and resist even the most harshest poisonous herbicides. And signed up for government subsidy. They attempted to trace their bumper crop into the food chain and found that about a third of it would go to export or to make ethanol, a lot of it would go to feed animals and a lot of it would go to make high fructose corn syrup that is present in virtually every box and jar on the shelves of the grocery store. (I have found that you have to be totally on the ball as a label scanner to avoid it. But sometimes you get tricked. I bought some barbecue sauce the other day from a little lady selling it for her church. She said it was her recipe, and they cooked it. Stan had bought it before and raved about it so I was so excited to get some. I read the label when we got home. It's in there. How does that happen? Can you buy high fructose corn syrup as an ingredient?).

The documentary was fascinating and frightening. I knew it would be. One of the premises the guys stated for this journey is that some say this (our) generation will be the first to have a SHORTER lifespan than the previous generation. Why? Corn has a lot to do with it.

They showed us some cattle feed lots with cows packed like sardines gorging themselves on grain. They interviewed scientists who told us how awful corn diets are for cattle. They showed us how the freak-of-nature-resilient-and-horrible-tasting corn makes it's way into every part of a Happy Meal. Corn fed beef, syrup in the bun and the pop, the corn oil fries are cooked in, and probably the napkins too! Oh, don't forget the ketchup.

We are corn. It's in our hair.

In Iowa, the old homesteads are gone. Replaced by corporate farms that plant miles (literally) of rows of corn. More yield and time saving when you don't have to turn those behemoth tractors! The local farmers who are still around and playing the game don't much like it, but what to do?

Our food scares me. For my family and for all of us. Stan told me he heard (on NPR) a story about how Asian countries are backing off of rice production because of costs, and a lot of that rice goes to feed the hungry in places like Africa. (How Africa came to depend on food from another continent is another thought thread entirely).

Another reason to move to our own little farm. I am encouraged that we, the people, do seem to be getting it, and trying to make changes. We belong to an Oklahoma Food coop, where we buy eggs, grass-fed beef, chicken and buffalo, awesome cheese, and vegetables from farmers all over the state.

Even in our neighborhood, I see we are going to offer a little farmer's market on the first Saturday of each month.

I've been rereading Jordin Rubin's books again, The Maker's Diet and Rx for Healthy Living. Good stuff and scary. Such a complete turnaround to the way we eat and think and buy and cook. We still eat too much at McDs and rely on convenience food more than we should .. my children's (and my) tastes love it all. It's hard to eat healthy. And expensive. And takes planning. I'm not a planner.

But we try.

Posted in: on at at 8:03 AM 0 comments  

We are ready.

The brooder is ready. The eggs are in their hatching stance.

Waiting.

We've made a few mistakes along the way. Perhaps fatal. And we all feel anxious and terribly guilty.

Just goes to show that artificial nature can never really take the place of momma. And the Dad of this house is in charge of all future projects that involve LIFE. Because he's the one who reads directions.

(still need a farmer, btw)

Posted in: on Sunday, April 13, 2008 at at 10:37 PM 2 comments  

For Grant's birthday, Dad took the day off and we Amtrakked down to Paul's Valley. Actually Stan drove the van because we didn't want to be stuck in PV America til the train came back that night. It was awesome. Train riding is the way to travel. Since it was Feb., we saw lots of winter scapes (sort of lifeless), but we could also SEE through the formerly leaf-filled trees lots of pastures, ranches and towns. We would love to do a long trip on the rails. But it costs about the same as chartering planes, so it's probably not happening.

The Conductor found out it was Grant's birthday so they wished him a Happy Birthday over the loud speaker. Called him a handsome guy wearing cool camo. Grant was so embarrassed. Loved it!

In order, are some pictures of our arrival in PV ...



OOPS. (note Giles pulling my hand down ... my animation apparently was embarrassing to him)


After trespassing on the old train, we went to the Toy Museum in downtown Pauls Valley.




Then Dad showed the kids his former haunts from when he lived there right before he took his lovely bride. Then we ate at Bob's Pig Shop, visited Bedree chocolate factory, got cherry limeades at Ballard's drive-in for the ride home (just to make sure we were getting our RDA of sugar!), and had the kids at their gymnastics class back in OKC by 2:45. WEW.

Outside Bob's Pig Shop. (Seeing Lydia's face in this picture reminds me she was kicking the end of the flu, but we forced her to come along anyway ... and like it.)


Later, CAKE.
I never want to wish our time away, but I do love it when we are all at even numbers ... 6, 8, 10. We live this way til August when Lovie turns 9.

Happy Birthday Grantie!

Posted in: on Thursday, April 10, 2008 at at 8:26 AM 2 comments  

Giles entered a nature photography contest from the Oklahoma Historical Society. He got an Honorable Mention (and no money, as he pointed out).

Still, we're proud. And he's fired up. If you have a chance, look over all of the entries. I think some of the photos are oustanding! I admire all of the parents/teachers out there who let their child enter the photo that might not have been quite in focus, or one that with just a little cropping or altering, would have been a winner! What restraint!

Makes me proud of all young photographers in our state. And I'm also proud of the great nature in our state! Backyards. Parks. City. Country. Flora. Fauna. Buffaloes. Ice. Sunsets. We have it all!

View Photo Gallery

Posted in: on Friday, April 04, 2008 at at 5:34 PM 1 comments  

Grant came up with the word to describe our candling exercise. HOPE.

Who knew incubating eggs could be so metaphorical?

Our candling exercise to check the development of our 28 eggs was an adventure in patience, trial-and-error and ingenuity. One of the hardest parts was "making" our candler. But we persevered and finally figured it out. One clear result we found is that instead of candling in a "darkened" room, it's best just to candle at night! But sheets and blankets over windows helped this morning.

(28 because two met with accidents while turning. We are not pointing fingers).

We read about egg development.
clear means no development,
a blood ring means the embryo is dead,
a small dark spot within a mass of little blood veins floating means life.


Our emotions were not in check and started to nosedive when the first half dozen eggs presented clear or blood ring.

Failure. We had failed.

But then ... is that a small dark spot? Are those veins. Is it floating? LIFE.





YES! We have floating! We have dark spots.

Our moods improved and we proceeded. We decided to mark the eggs with the bloodrings and clearness with a "U" for unknown. We just could not throw them out or call them dead without Dad doublechecking us.

The life eggs got a happy face.





Tally:
18 smiley faces
10 U

Posted in: on Thursday, April 03, 2008 at at 11:40 AM 0 comments  

I feel I should warn, since I've been blathering on about John Adams. The last episode reunites Abigail and John after their three year separation. She joins him in Paris while she's been back on the farm, and enduring the war. Their initial greeting, after this absence, was sweet but a little distant. No embrace. No tears. Just joy. Hmmm. Okay. Those were modest times!

Then they went to the privacy of their chamber.

Parental discretion is advised.

I had begged the kids to come downstairs and watch the show with Mom & Dad, but they ignored me. For once, I was glad!

Steamy.

Had the kids been watching, I can just imagine the comments we'd be making. "Kids, look at that bird out the window." ... or "Let's go pop some corn."

I know I would have said ... AT LEAST THEY'RE MARRIED.

Couldn't help but wonder what the high school students watching it in history classes thought.

HBO.

Posted in: on Wednesday, April 02, 2008 at at 2:42 PM 0 comments  

I've been re-reading Left To Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust by Immaculee Ilibagiza. I read it the first time very quickly more than a year ago (I couldn't put it down), and I needed to go through it again.

It's a book everyone interested in Rwanda, faith, God, hope ... should have on their shelves.

But I borrowed it this time from the library! I can't remember if I have purchased this book already, but it's not in the house. I love sharing books. So, to restate, books about such topics should NOT remain on shelves, they should be shared and read and re-read.

On page 190, near the end of the book Imaculee is recounting her God-destined journey to finding a job after the genocide, after she lost almost all of her family, after she survived the war, crouched in a tiny bathroom with several other women for three months ... there was a pencil underline on three statements on this page, marked by someone else ...

I envisioned it, I prayed for it, and now I had it! (her job)

I was living proof of the power of prayer and postitive thinking, which really are almost the same thing.

God is the source of all positive energy, and prayer is the best way to tap in to His power.

God has given me a dream that I can envision and am praying for. It is a vision of having Alain's parents in the audience when he graduates from Oklahoma Christian University. Can you just imagine? Sending your amazing son off to America, trusting in the value of the education he would get in a place called Oklahoma, and trusting in God's plan for him, that he would be safe and looked after? How they miss him. How proud they are of him. His school marks are excellent. He's a leader. He is one of the kindest, most amazing young men we know. His future is bright!

We have two years to plan, save and make it happen. Any ideas on fund-raising?

Posted in: on Tuesday, April 01, 2008 at at 8:27 AM 1 comments  

We all got a late Monday morning start. Even this guy. We had a recycling bonanza this week from Alain's party with a ton of aluminum cans (with the tops torn off for the Ronald McDonald House). We are used to our recyclables and big trash day refuse being picked through. And I was hoping the cans would be found because we know there's money to be made gathering aluminum.

This man got to our cans before anyone else and before the truck came. I grabbed my camera (what? I'm not sharing his face or selling his image) and shot through the window.


A few minutes would pass and I'd check again. He'd still be crushing cans.

The last time I looked, he was about to ride away on his bike but looked to see a funeral procession from the church across the street about to drive past him. He stopped. Got off of his bike. Took off his hat and bowed til all of the cars passed.



Precious. The kids and I are discussing it. And we prayed for the guy (and the severe weather all around us). And we are (I am) thankful for our house and the reminders of the broken world that we have the honor of seeing from our curb.

Posted in: on Monday, March 31, 2008 at at 11:47 AM 2 comments  

Our oldest son turned 21 on Sunday! Happy Birthday Alain.

His day started early with a phone call in his dorm room from home. He got to speak with all of his family who were thrilled to wish him a happy birthday.

Home is in Rwanda. Family are his parents, two brothers and his sister.

They are all counting the days for his summer visit home! Only about a month left.

We'll miss him so much this summer. How selfish is that?

He invited some friends over and we had a fantastic afternoon with our house filled with more college students than I thought possible.

We made beans, cassava, rice and grilled chicken (we also had hot dogs for some filler). We also had some fried plaintain for an apppetizer.

Happy Day.

Posted in: on at at 11:39 AM 0 comments  

I'm finding it difficult to sit down and soak up all of the John Adams episodes. Instead of sitting in front of the TV, I should be writing love letters to my husband!


“ I look back to the early days of our acquaintance and
friendship as to the days of love and innocence, and,
with an indescribable pleasure, I have seen near a score
of years roll over our heads with an affection heightened
and improved by time, nor have the dreary years of
absence in the smallest degree effaced from my mind
the image of the dear untitled man to whom I gave
my heart.”
—Abigail Adams, wRiting to John Adams in 1782

The documentary runs a little slow ... but that is part of the draw, I think. We need to feel the slowness of those times. The long sea passages from the colonies back to Britain transporting news of treaties, battles, surrenders and victories. The time it took to powder one's wig before any meeting of the Continental Congress.

When I saw a trailer for the movie, Tom Hanks, executive producer, said something to the effect that researching Adams led him to an understanding of our history that had he realized as a school child, would have blown off his little head!

But he didn't say WHAT that was! What was it?

One remarkable detail of the movie/Adams life was that at 14-years-old, John Quincy, who had accompanied his father to Paris, braving British fire on the sea, was sent to St. Petersburg as the secretary to the new US Ambassador ... BECAUSE he was fluent in Russian.

Stan commented that he wouldn't have sent his son off with that man who looked a little suspect (must have been that wig). So is the taint of our modern times and fear of child predators.

Still. 14.
We know how wise Jesus was at 12! I just listened to a sermon on that (What Your 12-year-old Should Know).

We better download and start working on that teacher's guide (though it's produced from TIme and HBO, so I am a little suspicious of the bent!)

Posted in: on Saturday, March 29, 2008 at at 8:49 AM 0 comments  

Those words were on the bottom of a poster that hung in my childhood room. I would study it during dozing off and waking up times and count the letters of the words and look at the tiny chicks in the barnyard scene surrounding a little golden lab puppy. I had this elaborate head game of counting the number of letters in words, names, sentences, and a scoring system in which anything that ended in the number EIGHT was the best.

But I digress (11 letters. bad).

Peep Peep Peep has moved in. (But no PUP). Didn't I just laud Webkinz in the post just previous to this. The inanimate, virtual, carefree sort of pet?

How then, could it happen that the very next day after the Webkin post, we drove in our real car using real expensive gasoline to pick up our real batch of 30 chicken eggs to incubate?

I thought it would be a great educational experiment. Easy: Put the eggs under a light. Watch them for a couple of days. Experience the miracle of life through hatching. Cheer on our chicks. Nurture them. Find a farm for them to live. It would be just like the fair where they have those large incubators with glass walls and chicks were hatching all of the time. Cool.

My first lesson in chicken incubation was that it takes real 21 days for our peepers to hatch. I am such a city girl sometimes (who actually grew up in the country with a mother who liked to raise chickens from time to time).

Until then, we must turn the eggs THREE TIMES A DAY ... ensure their incubator remains a steady 99 degrees, and to keep it humid. Sounds like the vacation I'd like to have (with a swim up bar, of course).

Did I say we have to turn those eggs three times a day? For 21 days?

It's day three. And so far, we are remembering. We are logging our progress, checking the temperature, the humidity. We are learning new terms like chalazae, albumen and candler. A candler, by the way, is a contraption with a light and a box that we need to make in order to view the inside of our eggs in a few days to check fertility and check development! And see whether we'll be expecting 30 peeps ... or fewer.

The eggs have been named things like Speckly, George and Duke. And Grant has shed tears more than once when we remind him that we will NOT be keeping the 30 (or?) chickens. It breaks city ordinances. And our neighbor would turn us in. Not that I wouldn't like to try to keep them! Our own eggs (for eating)!

Anyone know of a farmer who needs chickens? We wouldn't mind taking a trip out to the country for delivery. Think of the educational opportunity.

Candling update coming up.

Posted in: on Friday, March 28, 2008 at at 6:17 PM 2 comments  

We've welcomed many new pets into the house. I love them. No messes. No training. And the kids are totally into taking care of them. And they are already taxidermied (word?). And their live versions all live inside the computer.

We are a little late into the Webkinz craze. But we're in.

We are a ridiculous stuffed animal house anyway. Now, there's more. Even the cool oldest kid coudn't resist anymore. And he's into it. But won't admit that to just anyone.

I've rationalized this noting how the kids have learned that each of their webkins(z) has to be fed before you can buy them clothes. That you have to work (play games) to earn money. And you have to save money to purchase items, such as hottubs and fancy pirate beds for their webkinz rooms and backyards!

It's interesting to see how they decorate their rooms, and what's most fun is to see their community together in Webkinz world. Grant sent Lydia a gift yesterday, and she was so thrilled. He got a squeal and a big hug for his gesture.

I should have thought of that for Easter baskets. Instead, they each got a new Webkin. Luckily, I found a 2-for-1 sale on them at the last minute.

Another educational application (in the REAL WORLD) happened yesterday when Giles said he heard of a kid that has 92 Webkinz. What?!

For one thing that would be a fulltime job to take care of all of them! (The kid would have to quit school for that).

But mostly my eyeballs rolled back into my head and my brain started cha-chinging. How much money is that?

So the multiplication problem of the day ... 92 x $15.

I pointed out that answer could buy a real hot tub for the back yard. Be a nice chunk of change toward a real car. Or pay for lots of education for orphans in Rwanda.

Tah.

Posted in: on Tuesday, March 25, 2008 at at 9:00 AM 0 comments  

or ... where have you been all of my life?

Our new home educating journey has led us to so many new aspects of approaching our life. From bread making to nature study, and beyond. Who knew? Some of it is radical, some practical. Some of it convicts me. SOme of it makes me roll by eyes. Some of it is as appalling as it is exciting. All of it is challenging. And most of it makes me tired.

I often joke that I wake up in a new world every day. And I do. It takes me a long time to grasp some concepts that are no brainers for other people. So I might have heard all of these things before but didn't listen? My poor kids.

But we learn together as a family. The parents along with the children. My mistakes and the years I lost not knowing stuff, will hopefully just give them a stronger foundation to build their lives upon, and their children's lives. And their children.

As an example, here are the titles of some of the books and cds I've been listening to lately ...

Preparing Sons to Provide for Single Income Family, by Steve Maxwell
How Modern Churches are Harming Families, by John Thompson
The Role of Children in the Meeting of the Church, by Douglas W. Phillips
Making Wise Decisions about College, by Douglas W. Phillips
Why Satan Wants Your Firstborn and What to do about it, by SM Davis
Home is Where the Heart Is: Teaching your daughters to cherish being keepers of the home, by Susan Bradrick and daughters

Most of these materials I gathered from this outfit, VISION Forum.

Posted in: on Monday, March 24, 2008 at at 3:53 PM 0 comments  

Love the game Apples to Apples. Here's one day spent during Spring Break at Beavers Bend. The rain day. Missing are the cousins/aunt/uncle with us ... but they don't know I blog, and I do not have their permission to post unmake-upped cabin-haired pictures of them on the internet.


Funky and exciting

Lee Greenwood

Refreshing

Glamorous

Corrupt and comfortable? I prefer cunning and carefree! Also prefer unmakeupped and cabin haired days!

Posted in: on Sunday, March 23, 2008 at at 9:27 PM 0 comments  

When I read the book John Adams by David McCoullough more than a year ago, I was so enthralled that I started making notes and writing down quotes to incorporate into home school to tell the kids about this man. He did rise to the top of my fave presidents list. A year later, I can't find those notes, ack! And I can't remember a lot of particulars about the man, except I still admire him, and of course, love the wife!

Principled. Wise. Confident. Visionary. God seeking. Home educated as a child. Wife adoring. Committed writer. And I think humble, at times. Some people think he was a jerk. I almost got into a friendly argument the other day with a friend (except I'm too chicken to argue) who didn't like him because he was against women's suffrage. Well, maybe, but he was against slavery. So there. (I thought of that later).

You have to love those men who rode their horses from Boston to Philadelphia for the sake of founding a country ... there were no road breaks at Steak N Shake. Or podcasts to help pass the time trotting along the paths. Or sometimes fresh water and oats for the horses. Hard life. At home. On the road. And in yellow fever infested Philly. And that was all before the horrible war started.

So when I walked into the post office the other day and saw a large poster of "John" advertising his movie, I was elated! Then I was dejected, HBO. No HBO, yo.

Still it didn't take long for me to do a little mental rebudgeting, and wondering whether we could subscribe for the duration of the THREE MONTH LONG MINISERIES that shows on Sunday nights. And wondering whether it was time to get the DVR! Afterall, this could be school related ... and all of us love this period. The kids still play colonial times, Rev. war, etc.

Then those smart people at Cox Communication offered a deal to the dorks. Three months of HBO for $5 a month just for John Adams!

Signed, sealed, delivered. And Giles has already programmed the DVR to record for me.

I'm going to look for those notes. And I can't wait for the series!

Posted in: on Wednesday, March 05, 2008 at at 3:42 PM 1 comments  

From newsok.com about Sunday ...

The high temperature in Oklahoma City today was 70 degrees. The expected high on Monday is 37, with a 60 percent chance of snow.

Posted in: on Monday, March 03, 2008 at at 10:18 AM 1 comments  

Scene: Mom walks into the house after attending worship service at Cross & Crown. The short ride home was lit up with lightning flashes and an incredible stillness ... no rain. Upon getting out of the car, I hear the tornado siren and went skipping into the house.

"Is this tornado warning really for us?" I yelled to my family who was nowhere to be found. It's never for us. We are tornado immune as evidenced by the 80-100 year old homes that surround us ... and the false scares we've had for the last 11 years in this house. There's some security in that! Probably unfounded ... but we do know the sirens blare for any possible tornado groan anywhere in our vast county.

"YES. Get down here." They yelled from the basement.

Two of three children were near tears, panicked and very frightened. Grant kept laughing and emphasizing that he was not afraid ... at all!

We listened to the radio coverage as they tracked a possible tornado that came within a half mile or so of here.

NO damage to anyone though. No touchdown of any tornado.

Giles had enough time to get his Play Station and take it downstairs. Lydia grabbed her "Beary" stuffed animal. Grant brought a flashlight! I wanted to sneak upstairs for a drink.

Tomorrow we anticipate snow.

Posted in: on Sunday, March 02, 2008 at at 9:04 PM 0 comments  

Lydia and I just finished another book that found its place in our Top Five. Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink written in 1935. A fantastic book about a little pioneer girl growing up in Wisconsin during the Civil War (we just can't seem to get away from that era). Caddie is a tomboy and it vexes her mother very much that Caddie doesn't seek to do lady things like make quilts and cook jam, preferring to romp in the woods with her brothers or sneak off to nearby Indian camps. Sounds a little like someone we know.

Caddie got into a bit of trouble. She pulled a prank on her prissy cousin from Boston and got switched good by her mother and sent to bed. After tossing on her bed all day (without supper of course), her dad came to talk to her. And here is a speech every Father should give his daughter ... I love it so much that I am RETYPING it!

"... Perhaps Mother was a little hasty today, Caddie. She really loves you very much, and, you see, she expects more of you than she would of someone she didn't care about. It's a strange thing, but somehow we expect more of girls than of boys. It is the sisters and wives and mothers, you know, who keep the world sweet and beautiful. What a rough world it would be if there were only men and boys in it, doing things in their rough way! A woman's task is to teach them gentleness and courtesy and love and kindness. It's a big task, too, harder than cutting trees or building mills or damming rivers. It takes nerve and courage and patience, but good women have those things. They have them just as much as the men who build bridges and carve roads through the wilderness. A woman's work is something fine and noble to grow up to, and it is just as important as a man's. ... I don't want you to be the silly, affected person with fine clothes and manners, whom folks sometimes call a lady. NO, that is not what I want for you, my little girl. I want you to be a woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind. Do you think you would like to be growing into that woman now?"

Love Caddie. Love her daddy.

Posted in: on Wednesday, February 27, 2008 at at 5:57 PM 1 comments  

Here's a video testimony featuring Stan's brother, Scott. We taped this to use at church to feature the recovery program at Cross & Crown Mission. He did great. There's so much more to his story than our five minutes would allow but hopefully this gets his message across ... "God is my sponsor!" It's an incredible journey of recovery.

Posted in: on Tuesday, February 26, 2008 at at 10:49 AM 1 comments  

I have an ode to Grant coming. He's been SIX for a whole week, and we've had a pretty wild week with illness, projects and such.

But just a glimpse of our little dude.
In a brunette household, Grant is the golden child. Blond blond. And hair that needs a haircut, but it's pretty wild and cute right now.

He wandered through the room yesterday with his long blonde hair, Michigan State hoodie and ripped jeans singing ...

"little red corvette."

It was a little mom moment. Who is this kid?

And the mom is glad he doesn't know the rest of the words to the song. And that always leads me wondering whether I "heard" the words to the song as I sang along on the radio when I was also SIX ... plus ten.

Posted in: on Thursday, February 21, 2008 at at 11:57 AM 1 comments  

Apparently we are the only ones out there who do not watch LOST, but we do watch Gone Country.

Maureen McCormack, Carnie Wilson, Bobby Brown, Dee Snider (Twisted Sister), Julio Iglesias, Jr., an American Idol girl, and a rapper are in Nashville, competing to become a country music star.

Hilarious and bizarre. I get teary every episode, right along with Marcia.

Posted in: on Friday, February 15, 2008 at at 10:45 PM 0 comments  

One of Grant's favorite radio stations is 101.9, The Twister. Yes, it's country. Might as well admit it.

The point is, that is what his temperature registered before I quit holding the digi thermometer under his armpit. He didn't want to hold it in his mouth and the other option is not an option.

Pit checking also cuts down on germ spreading perhaps, since Giles is down with it. And I'm spending lots of time at the sink scrubbing temperature taking devices between uses. They are following their father who was down with the ague last week.

One of our favorite books we've read together is Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawls. It's an excellent living book (the movie just doesn't compare.) We loved it, and if you're from Oklahoma, the book is even more special because it's setting is in the north eastern part of our state.

Anyway, the main character's sister, Daisy, loves to be a nurse! So anytime her brother had the slightest ailment, she would don her Red Cross nurse uniform and start taking "care" of him which her brother loathed entirely.

My mom sewed Lydia a Florence Nightengale costume and she is about to put it on. It's she and I against the ague today.

Grant is a pretty good patient so far. And gratefully, he doesn't have much experience as a patient. What a hearty and healthy kid. What a blessing!

I haven't checked Giles' temp yet, but I think we're double in for it. We have beds made on the loveseat and couch, with bedside tables for tissues, snacks, juice, tea and water.

Maybe we'll be able to finish our current excellent book today. Shades of Gray by Carolyn Reeder. It's historical fiction set in Virginia right after the Civil War. It's a fantastic book about respect, honor, courage, principles and family.

Posted in: on Monday, February 11, 2008 at at 9:25 AM 0 comments  

Last Sunday night at Cross & Crown, Paul tried something a little different for worship time. It was Superbowl night, so when I got there the game was on, but the crowd was a little thinner than usual and not many were watching it anyway. Eventually the TV went off and he had us move our chairs into a big circle and Paul sort of opened the floor to let people speak their hearts. I sat between a non-English speaking mom who is still grieving the loss of her stillborn baby, and a homeless man who will NEVER let me take his picture, although I tease him about it every week. Next to him was one of the youth group teens who's pregnant and was kicked out of her house because of it. On around the circle was "R". No one had seen him for a few days. Turns out he spent ten days in jail. He got out and then got beat up. He was banged up on Sunday night and drunk, but he was there.

I should have written about all this last Sunday when it was still fresh on my mind, but I hoped the professionals might post about it and would do it better. I guess it really doesn't matter if there's duplication anyway.


One man wanted to confess a sin and ask for prayers. He didn't give many details, but later I talked to him a little bit, and found out that his teenage daughter was there and she won't have anything to do with him. He was seeking her forgiveness ... not sure exactly when their relationship deteriorated ... it could have been when he went to prison (he's been out for a few months), or when she caught him smoking crack the other day. He also told me about his 12-year-old son who faces five felony charges. He said he wants to do right by his family, find a decent job (with his criminal record) and get back on his feet.

Then John shared. He's who we call John the Baptist because he lives in the wilderness of the streets (on purpose) and brings people to Cross & Crown. I love this guy. There's so much of his story I do not know, but little by little I am getting a better picture of his life. The other day, when he was helping me decorate the church for a wedding, he said he wishes the guys in Phoenix could see him playing with flowers. He said his nickname used to be something like "Smoke and Bones" because he was always smokin' dope and beating up people.

Anyway, on Sunday night he talked about Jesus and choices. He shared that not long ago he had been sucked into sorrow. Sad and depressed all of the time. He said that you can become addicted to the sorrow and almost relish in it. But instead, he chooses JOY.

John doesn't drive. He doesn't have a home. His possessions are few. He has lots of aches (from his smoke and bones days). He still gets in a few brawls. And the other day, he mentioned losing a daughter and I'm thinking that might have led to his entrance to street living back in the mid-80s. I don't see him every day like most of the staff does, but every time I see him, I know I'll get a bear hug and a story about his mom, his past or his friends. He will also take time to talk to all my kids and bless them.

I don't have a great ending point to tie this all together. As I just read back through my rambling, it occurred to me that I just typed away the phrases about a CHILD facing felonies, a crack addict trying to find his way, a beat up drunk man who calls one of the staff ladies his Mom.

It was an awesome time of worship and perspective. I'm grateful for this community of real people ... and for the reminder to choose JOY and believe in HOPE. Thanks God.

Posted in: on Friday, February 08, 2008 at at 9:12 AM 0 comments  

who wanted pictures!



Lydia and I had some fun with our photo booth camera. She helped pick my outfit. A little number we got at the thrift store for her (our?) dress up bin. I imagine it was a mother of the bride dress, or maybe the girls from ABBA wore it?
Here's another photo booth example. The kids have had a blast the last few days taking these shots and playing with the different feature like "fisheye," "dent" and "swirl" ...



And now from the 1970s ...




Talk about dent and swirl!

Posted in: on Friday, February 01, 2008 at at 8:44 AM 4 comments  

Comments from my loving family after they saw me with my new haircut:


Lydia: "It looks like you've lived in the jungle for 48 years."

Giles: "It looks like a pile of "c*&%." (I so wish he got his crude mouth from his father). This did not either offend me or cause tears. And that delights me for there have been numerous tears shed over my coif during my lifetime. I'm growing up! And I appreciate my son's honesty.

I also appreciate his father's honesty. When he came home today, I sprang out from around the corner.

Stan: "I love it!"

Isn't he just awesome? He meant it too, I could tell.

Then he said ...

"Nice shag!"

I had been trying to put my finger on it all day. I knew it was a haircut of yore. But I couldn't quite remember.

It is a shag! Oh dear! Are shags in? I'm not sure.

I told Stan that I remember having a shag at some point. He commented that no one has had shags since Carol Brady. Ouch. But I finally figured out that I think I had a shag version in the mid-90s.

I have one in the mid-00s too.

I thought I was getting my "every six months whether I need it or not" trim that typically involves thinning out the mane and leaving me with the pony tail option.

I am between stylists. With two haircuts a year, I guess I can take some blame for my last fave girl switching shops without a forwarding number! But I just needed a thin and shape, so I headed to a no appointment needed quickie place with the kids were at PE today.

While in the car, I gave myself a peptalk about the whether I'd let just "anyone" cut my hair. It would only be a stop for products if the person had horrible hair, pink hair, body piercing that look like they hurt, and a few other traits that I probably shouldn't mention.

The shop was empty, and I interupted the middle aged lady who was about to dive into her hot pocket and root beer.

My self peptalk went out the door even though this lady resembled the "beauty operator" back in 1999 who scalped me like Sinead O'Conner while I was expecting Lydia. Yes,I think those were the last tears I shed over hair, or lack of. So, why I didn't just buy some spray and get out of there, I don't know.

Instead I was transported in time. My thinning, shaping and layering idea apparently translated into wacking off the hair of her graying minivan driving, sweats wearing (I was supposed to be exercising), hair unattended client with a "style" that could be defined as a mullet with just a couple of more wacks!

And why I would let a complete stranger give me bangs? She assured me the bangs could be blended in any day that I wanted something different. To me that meant, long bangs that would bug me to death but that I could clip back.

But her first wack was my first clue that I would not have long sweepy bangs.

Not since second grade have I had bangs this short ... when my mom cut them. I also discovered I haven't grown out of the cow lick either.

Turns out what she meant by the bangs was that I could wear them as bangs or FEATHER THEM BACK ... giggle.

I had a 20 percent off coupon for this place. But when she rang me up for $12.95, I was too embarrassed to whip out the coupon.

You do, indeed, get what you pay for.

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 29, 2008 at at 9:28 PM 4 comments  

There is an ever so slight spousal disagreement going on in reaction to our oldest son's entry into pre-pubescent lunacy.

Let's just say that one of us thinks he's funny and laughs at him.
The other rolls his (or her) eyes and gives his (or her) soulmate the look of "don't encourage this!"

The phase no doubt will be short and is merely a precipice to full pubescent lunacy. And that lunacy might not be so funny.

Deer Boy's answer to every request, assignment, comment is the word ... "Sir" ... with a slight lisp to sound like "thir" with his nose scrunched up and teeth bared.

All of us in the house (except for the grownup parent) are now saying it also.

There's also the "scream and run." He has a high-pitched little girl scream that emits when he is startled, acting like he's startled, has to do a math assignment, take out the trash or is being chased by a sibling. Both parents agree it's highly annoying but at least one parent sees the boy becoming a man and wishes she (or he) could get this on video to show at his wedding rehearsal or senior banquet.

The amused parent has been in a funk where most of the time everything in the world appears broken, believes her (or his) efforts are all futile and she (or he) has a bad attitude about everything ...

so let's take the laughs where we can get them!

SIR!

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 15, 2008 at at 7:41 AM 0 comments  

you'll have a delightful time in the kitchen.

Two of our Rwandan son's wishes over break have been to make cookies, and to drive.

I called cookies, and left the driving lessons to Steely Nerve Stan. (Let's just say that apparently there are too many stop signs to keep track of out there in our neighborhood.)

Cookie baking was a big hit. Who wouldn't get excited when someone uses a teaspoon and a tablespoon for the first time? It is interesting to smell the flour and consider the properties of baking soda. How exciting to teach someone to crack an egg without the aid of a fork. Who wouldn't share the joy of getting to put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the dough! Really!

Cooking with G, L and G is usually a blast too ... but that comes with less wide-eyed amazement and more whining. Maybe because we're always working in math?

And since G and L have been convalescing all week with a virus, and Grant's photo taking skills are not quite up to the task, I tried to chronicle this major event as best as I could. Is that flour on the lens?

Posted in: on Sunday, January 06, 2008 at at 9:08 AM 3 comments  

It's New Year's Day so of course we had Black Eyed Peas today. In year's past, we've had friends over, cooked up a big southern meal and had one last (first?) holiday bash. This year, I hoped we'd get an invitation to eat someone else's peas, and felt some guilt for not inviting anyone over. But in the end, after a long trip last week, and a long month (year), we decided we needed the rest. (Notwithstanding the knowledge that hardly anyone likes black eyed peas as much as we do!)

But Stan's brother did come through and made the good luck peas! We (Stan) made the collard greens and Mexican cornbread. Check out that pot Scott cooked the peas in ... slowly with many extra "flavors" thrown in. That pot is HEAVY and it gave us a new appreciation for our grandmothers and their grandmothers who hauled around pots like that daily to feed their hungry families.

We threw in some chow-chow, sweet potatoes, venison (thanks Giles!) and iced tea.

We were too full for dessert, so evening brings a slice of fresh coconut cream pie!

It should be a good year!

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 01, 2008 at at 7:36 PM 1 comments  

if you can't beat 'em, join 'em ...
this is a terrible drive-by picture, but it's all I have for now.

Can you tell what it is?
Our clever neighbors are displaying their senses of humor. Making the most of our newly tree (limb) lined street, they added a little Christmas cheer to the scene. In other words, they strung some lights on their curbside post ice storm limb pile. So funny.

I keep hearing folks refer to the limb piles as looking like a "war zone." Although I see the aim of the comparison, I hardly think so.

Although I've never seen a war zone up close and personal, I doubt neat piles of tree limbs ever accompany blood, violence, death ... the detritus of war.

I love that word "detritus." It always reminds me of Dan who helped expand my vocab from this post way back in 2003 ...

Posted in: on at at 7:14 PM 1 comments  

When out of nowhere yesterday, I found myself flooded with tears as I was SHOPPING. I was at Mardel (Christian bookstore) and probably saw a little angel or scripture that triggered it.

But it was a wave of incredible grief.

It was for my birthmother, Judy.

In a previous post, I eluded to this love story that happened in my life in October. It's a long story ... well, not so long in telling, but long in emotion. I can't write it yet.

My search was tentative but once we started, it took only a few days to find her. In one phone conversation with a volunteer researcher, I learned her name, the day she was born and ... the day she died.

The teenager who selflessly let her child go to a family with a mom and a dad, grew up, suffered through failed marriages, addictions, abuse and had two more children. She was funny, a free spirit, vulgar, a great friend, adventurous and beautiful. She beieved in God. I would say she was also hopeful. And she waited for me to knock on the door the minute I turned 18 years old.

She died at age 43. That's when I was a young married 26-year-old.

The whirlwind of finding her also led to a half-sister that I have met and am getting to know. That is so so wonderful. And we both admit, is strange. But I'm sure I'll get to all of that later.

It might seem strange to mourn someone I never met. But I was part of her. And in all of my years wondering about her, and thanking God for her, I never dreamed she would not be here anymore.

She died without knowing I was okay, which was one of her wishes and mine.

She died?

Lately, when all of this floods over me ... all of the new history of myself that I have, concern about my family and letting them know I love them, getting to know a new sister ... I just wish it wasn't me, not my story. Too complicated. I'm too busy. Yet, I trust God in it, and thank Him for his timing. He knew.

I'm okay, Judy. Merry Christmas. And thank you. I love you and will see you in heaven.

Posted in: on Friday, December 21, 2007 at at 8:44 AM 2 comments  

Here it comes. Christmas weekend. The long Christmas weekend. Lots of activity ... lots of cooking, traveling and being nice to family. (and lots of fun).

Still, I tend to veer close to meltdown.

The kids and I came up with a plan. If they observe me being stressed out, they are going to say, "Mom, I love you. Peace and Fun."

They practiced it several times yesterday while they were standing on the couch, pounding on the piano, fighting with each other, chewing their food too loudly.

It works.

Posted in: on at at 8:30 AM 0 comments  

So I encouraged Giles to help pick up the limbs at a neighbor's house. Their mighty oak suffered mightily in the ice storm. Husband travels, they have a toddler ... so we thought we'd help a bit.

G started dragging the limbs to OUR curbside. He was embarrassed by our wimpy limb pile from our one tree that actually survived the storm pretty well. And Stan cut up a lot of those branches to keep for future camping trips.

G wanted to beef up our limb pile.

It's all about status ... and being one of the "haves."

It is so difficult to be among the have nots.

Okay, sweetie, drag those limbs ... but you'll have to figure out how to be content and grateful when you open the NOTS in the packages under the limbs of our Christmas tree!

Posted in: on Thursday, December 20, 2007 at at 8:52 AM 0 comments  

Guess I should update to say we are now warm and toasty in our own home. It took four days and just as we were getting the hang of how to live life away from our house (with awesome meals prepared for us, other people's towels to use, and wifi), the power returned.

Giles cried. His cousin Chaney just got home for Christmas break from college, and they were having a blast.

But it's good to be home. The limbs are sort of cleaned up, except for about two million tooth pick sized twigs from the neighbor's oak. The fridge is sparkling clean and refilling. The freezer is full of venison (I'm cooking up a stew for Stan's fam this weekend). The laundry is caught up. The fish survived. And being away from my home computer and forced to check my webmail prompted me to trash more than 5,000 accumulated emails. That felt good.

It was a weird week. It was kind of tricky to handle the "out of power" life and related chores with the normal life. I never do that well anyway. I got one of the biggest shocks of my life when I discovered the world did not stop when I had my first baby. Everything went on ... and we were expected to truck right along. It took to the third kid to realize, no, we can get off the truck and live life differently ... slower.

It was a weird week and a weird year. Weird. Good in so many ways. God has revealed much. He's stirred up much. He's helped us grow. But it's been, well, weird.

I blame a lot of that on some of the books I've read this year ... books that challenged my thinking (or challenged me to think) on such topics as home educating, immigration, taking care of the poor, sweat shops, whole foods, slavery, war, civil rights, Jesus, his apostles, and more ...

Someone ... get me a dimestore novel.

Posted in: on Wednesday, December 19, 2007 at at 4:56 PM 0 comments  

at Stan's sisters house where we slept in a warm house, after two nights building our character in our cold house. Hot baths, warm beds, lights, tv ... and this morning, hot breakfast, not made by the mother! We are living large.

Things we miss about electricity, (contributors G, L & G and mom).
1. heat
2. webkins
3. lights
4. video games
5. freezer that protects our food, including our venison!
6. blow dryer
7. clean underwear
8. HOT COFFEE IN THE MORNING
9. Reading lamps
10.tv

The bright side of no electricity
1. At least a dozen offers of places to stay from family and friends! (blessed!)
2. eating out nearly every meal
3. laundry vacation
4. another cooking vacation!
5. appreciating excesses of our spoiled lives
6. singing Christmas carols by candlelight
7. batteries for flashlights
8. candles
9. It could be a lot colder
10. It's not The Long Winter
11. Dad's job where he is presently, and unable to contribute his two cents to this post!

That's all for now. Time to play Monopoly.

Posted in: on Friday, December 14, 2007 at at 9:51 AM 1 comments  

Posted in: on Tuesday, December 11, 2007 at at 11:23 AM 0 comments  

It's a sad commentary on our lives that I hardly ever see "Stan's laugh" anymore. The kind where he shakes and cries. He laughs so hard it looks painful but is contagious. We don't laugh that way very often ... and I'm not sure the kids have ever seen it.

Oh that is sad. Where has the mirth gone?

But they saw it last night immediately following the evening prayer. Lydia volunteered to pray, and we all threw out prayer reminders to her. One of us said, "remember the ice."

So she thanked God for the ice storm.

He held it together til after the amen and then dear Stan, the one who took the bus to work because we couldn't even crack into the 1/2 inch ice shell around our vehicles, the one who has dragged our crashed limbs and the neighbors' crashed limbs out of driveways and streets, has checked on the powerless (electricity wise) ... lost it.

Laugh. Shake. Tears. Compose. Laugh. Shake. Tears. Compose. Laugh. Shake. Tears. "Lydia, please come back to the table." Laugh. Shake. Tears.

She initially got her feelings hurt because we laughed "at" her, but we coaxed her back to the table. She just couldn't miss this mirth ... even if it was at her expense!

While we were explaining how we were not "laughing AT you" we all came up with reasons to thank God for the ice storm. Because she is right, and we thank God for all things.

We were thankful for the moisture that our state needs ...
We were thankful for the beauty ...
We were thankful that our power has held ... (that sounds so selfish given all those whose power is out)
We were thankful for fun outside observing all of the God-made ice sculptures.
We were thankful for his care.
We were thankful for the day when mom didn't make us do math
We were thankful for the laughs!

Posted in: on at at 8:51 AM 0 comments  

Need to update that Stan the Man fixed the range in about five minutes. On his birthday. With assistance from Giles. Saved $350. Cooking vacation is over. We were going to bake his birthday cake today to celebrate, but didn't get to it. So I baked fish for dinner instead!

Coconut cake coming soon.

He fixed the washer too. The usual method for that is to bang around some hoses, but mostly pray, we pray over it.

Posted in: on Thursday, December 06, 2007 at at 10:57 PM 0 comments  

Tricky business to share this news with anyone who reads who doesn't, er, uh, share the same verve that a certain someone in our house possesses for deer hunting. It's not for the squeamish.

Nevertheless, much hoopla around here about our oldest son and his first deer.

Here is how Giles told the story in an email (with an attched picture that I'm not posting here) to a fellow hunter ...

behold my spike once in the back leg and once in the
shoulder 54,field dressed-2 from his head pounds but he is mine!!!!!!
antlers were about an inch.my uncle rick couldn't believe I shot it
we had just gone out for lunch. and we decided to stalk hunt for
awhile we had just crossed over
a fence 3 minutes before I shot it was 30 yards we thought he
didn''t see us because away about a 100 yards and it right by us I
pulled the trigger at 12:45
Giles


This was an 11th hour deer. Last day of the season. Our whole family was thrilled because we did not want to imagine the next year living with him as he lamented his misses.

Hunting is his passion. So, we cheer him on. I am grateful we don't have to mount anything or need to reserve any wall space for a trophy! We do have a little meat for the freezer and an upcoming feast.

Way to go Giles.

Posted in: on Wednesday, December 05, 2007 at at 8:12 AM 0 comments  

UPDATE: We are on an extended vacation from cooking! Appliance professional quoted a cost to fix the range that neared its original cost and surpassed the cost of some brand new ranges! Stan has ordered the part online and he will fix it himself. It's supposed to arrive today. Meantime, I have to call a washing machine professional ... washer is out ... again.


When out of nowhere, our stove/oven stopped working last night. That's not exactly true. It would not turn OFF and began beeping incessantly and flashing an "F1" message after it switched from bake to broil for my veggie casserole. Because my wonderful husband knows where all of our manuals are, he found the manual and looked up the meaning of the "F1" message. Although we already knew what it would mean.

"If the fault code and beeps continue, disconnect power to the applicance and call an authorized servicer."

Of course we knew this. It makes perfect sense. Baking season. Gift season. Tight budget season. Added to the year of major repairs to our home/vehicles.


Said servicer doesn't come until Thursday.

I choose to look at it as a two-day vacation from cooking. An excuse for cereal and sandwiches for every meal! The kids will start begging for pizza any minute. I'm trying not to remember that I have a bread maker, crock-pot, griddle, microwave and probably five other heat giving appliances to help us through this time.

Ah, vacation!

Posted in: on Tuesday, November 27, 2007 at at 9:14 AM 2 comments  

Posted in: on Monday, November 19, 2007 at at 10:29 AM 1 comments  

Chandy always makes up names for the folks she writes about at Cross & Crown. It protects the privacy of the people she talks about. The teens. The illegal immigrants. The drunks. And all of the other children of God she has the blessing of working with every day.

I have a little story about a "friend." We'll call her Dawn because when I see her, I see myself, or what could be me or any of us. We could also call her Jesus.


Dawn and I go back a few years. I met her at the mission. We've visited off and on on Sunday nights. I've given her a few rides. Bought her milk now and then. We ate dinner together once at a local Chinese restaurant when I was writing an article about her for the mission's newsletter. (Not because I just wanted to take her out to eat to visit). Recently, I've seen her walking in my neighborhood. When I see her, I always think of scriptures about entertaining angels, and doing for the least of these. Most of the time, I look the other way.

I know she likes egg foo young and vanilla ice cream. She likes whole milk and she always wears a scarf over her hair. Her purse is a plastic grocery bag. She gave me a dollar once for gas. She believes in Jesus. She wears sandals. And when I see her feet, they at once remind of Bible times and the necessity/courtesy of washing one's feet when entering a home, and also make me cringe because her feet are so dirty and worn. She walks. Everywhere.

I helped her move once.

After that experience, I kind of "dropped" her. The experience was very frightening and disturbing. And it showed me exactly how torturous mental health disease could be in this life. And it gave me a poignant picture of what heaven will be like for people like Dawn when they will not suffer any more. Heavenly!

Dawn is someone who needs help but you can't help her. She's someone who is desperate but survives. She is also funny.

Tonight I dropped her home and found out where she is living (wew. safe place.) She was telling me that recently she was "resting her eyes" in a well lit parking lot of a convenience store. Someone woke her up. I thought she was going to tell me that they wanted her to move, or to give her some money.

Instead, she said this man asked her if she had a quarter.

We both belly laughed. I don't know why it was so funny. Of course, she gave him the quarter.

Posted in: on Sunday, November 18, 2007 at at 9:11 PM 1 comments  

Earlier today, I was lauding this new online vocabulary game that awards ten grains of rice to feed the hungry for each correct answer. I played until I won 500 grains of rice, then wondered how much that was exactly. I was very naive thinking it might be a cup or half a cup. WRONG!

Still, this question provided great "Math You See" today. Great application of seeing math work. After Giles also earned 500 grains of rice on the game, he counted rice, ten grains at a time, then lined them up in five rows of ten piles.

We got Lydia and Grant in on the fun. We discussed and saw the rows of rice and the different ways it added up and multiplied to 50o.

Then we got out a couple of rice bowls - a tiny bowl that is probably really a sauce bowl, and a little rice bowl (bought from our local favorite Asian market). Still optimistic. The rice barely covered the bottom of the tiny bowl.

Then we got out the measuring spoons and our contribution was barely a paltry (one of the test words) tablespoon each.

Giles observed that a "vocabulary professor" should get on that game and play for four hours straight and really help people.

Posted in: on Thursday, November 15, 2007 at at 11:13 AM 1 comments  

Now this is so cool. I get a "click school" email every day that gives us an educational website for the kids to visit. Wednesday is Language Arts day and this week, our click was for the Free Rice vocabulary game for the World Food Programme. (Apparently I live under a rock, since this thing is all over the Internet. But I like my rock).

You play a vocabulary game and earn 10 grains of rice for each correct answer that will go to feed the hungry. How fun. I must confess it was really hard (for me) NOT to cheat! Right answers feed people! However, you get one wrong and another word appears that you might know so you can keep filling your rice bag. The game automatically adjusts to your language level whether you are learning English or are scholarly.

Apparently there's no end to the game and I wonder how it knows what my contribution is because I couldn't find a submit button or anything. Maybe it's just one massive counter tabulating all of the correct words all over the world all day long?

I stopped at 500 grains of rice. It is FUN. But how much is 500 grains of rice? Half cup. One cup. Two pitiful tablespoons? I have no idea.

So there's our math for the day too! Counting rice.

Here's the link to the game and a related article. Play it and feed someone or sometwo or somethree.

http://www.wfp.org/english/

Posted in: on at at 7:57 AM 0 comments  

A beautiful heart story goes with this picture. Praise God for giving us Joy Neel who took this picture for us Sunday when Lydia committed her life to Jesus.

Let's see if God gives me the words to match my heart to write about this. Then again, this picture might say it all. Thanks Joy.

Posted in: on Tuesday, November 13, 2007 at at 9:34 AM 3 comments  

Took these pictures at Stan's folks house in September.

Posted in: on Wednesday, November 07, 2007 at at 8:19 AM 0 comments  

Really could not have said it better myself.

Seriously.

Posted in: on Sunday, November 04, 2007 at at 12:33 AM 0 comments