Adventures in Making a Secret E-Reader Case Part 2

As you all may remember, I left off my harrowing tale of craftiness last week in my Adventure of the Great Kindle Case.  Not exactly what I called it, but you know what I mean.  Anyhow, I'd had an idea to turn an old book into a new Kindle case.  With some gluing and cutting I at last had a hollow book.  And then I took the weekend off.  So, Monday morning I had a sudden thought:  how in the world am I going to turn the thing on?  Because you see, my friends, the sad thing about technology is that it requires power and stuff, and the switch for my Kindle is on the bottom, which meant that I'd have to remove the Kindle from the book every time I wanted to switch it on.  I couldn't have that.

So, I decided I'd chop a hole in the bottom of the book where the power button is, so I could just poke the button through the opening.  Sounds like a good idea, but let me tell you, Elmer's Glue is a beast.  I don't know much about slang talk, and I'm not sure I used the word "beast" correctly, but seriously, that stuff works.  So I had to spend quite some time sawing before I got the hole the way I wanted it to be.  Exhibit A below shows my serrated kitchen knife standing of its own accord in the book.  Allow me to say: not the most fun part of this project.  I kept on stabbing the wrong part of the page, and it was just really inconvenient.  But anyhow, finally, I finished.

 So at this point I had a hole cut out for the Kindle, a hole cut out for easy access to the power button, and... not much else.  This was when I started to realize that, since the hole fit the Kindle and the Kindle Only, there would be no easy way for me to remove the Kindle once it was in.

I really think things through.

After some careful thought, and much pacing around the house, seeking out clever ideas, I finally decided that I would have to put something in the book

In our hallway with many bookcases my eyes lighted upon the sewing cabinet (yes, it makes SO much sense) and I thought that I could use a ribbon to put under the Kindle and thereby use it as leverage to get the Kindle out.  Much chopping later, both with my box cutter and kitchen knife, I had two cutsey holes in the which I was able to string the ribbon, as you can see below.
 

 

This was when I decided that much wear and tear would not be good for my Kindle if I were to keep taking it in and out with such alarming regularity, so I found an old t-shirt I was giving away and cut the back out, in order to use as lining.  No worries, it was a shirt I was never going to use anyhow.  I got it during my hooligan stage, and it said, "Smile.  It confuses people."  Obviously I have since repented of my ways and would no longer wear a shirt suggestion that smiling should only be done to confuse people.  My shirt of choice these days says "Rejoice.  Joy is a choice."  Ah, youth.  How I did you wrong.

Look!  I'm a shirt all cut up!  I feel so rejected.

 As you can see, I carefully made sure the shirt fit into the hole.  It did.

From there it was fairly simple.  I glued my shirt into the space, glued some more pages on top of what I'd been working on so as to make it look neat and fresh, let it dry, and then put the ribbon through my carefully cut holes.  As you can see, my work space just kept getting messier and messier.

When all was said and done I realized that not only does it look sweetly awesome, but, thanks to the hole in the bottom, I can plug in headphones (pictured here) or plug in the charger (not pictured here, but it's HILARIOUS to see a book "plugged in," let me say).  So actually, that worked out remarkably well.

Ooh, another cool thing was that the book came with a bookmark, which I preserved from being glued, and so now the first few pages (which I kept in the book un-glued, just for good measure) have a book mark.  It honestly looks just like a regular book, only, well, you know, there are headphones coming out of it in this picture!

 

And here I am, turning the page in my book-within-a-book.

Anyhow, I hope this didn't bore you guys, but I was so excited that it worked out, I just had to share.  It's always exciting to do projects that actually turn out.  Maybe you folks do better than I, but honestly, I usually have these dreams (I'm making a purse!  I'm fixing my quilt!) and then they sort of just... flop.  So it was very exciting to have this work.

So.  That's all.

Adventures in Making a Secret E-Reader Case Part 1

Some days ago, I got it into my head that I needed to make a really cool cover for my new Kindle.  I have a friend who makes purses out of old books, and I'm pretty much her dealer (I tend to find many free books), so I figured that I'd just find an old book I was going to give away anyhow, and use that for my Kindle cover. I looked up online for one of those tutorials, but it seemed pretty simple, so I just grabbed a book and started!

I picked this book because a) the cover was cool, b) it was free, and c) upon opening it I saw some naughty language, so I figured that if I was killing a book it might as well be this one.

I then got some glue (Elmer's!  I love the stuff!  How awesome is it that Elmer's Glue is so multi-purpose!) and mixed a little in a bowl with some water, just to thin it a bit, and then prepared the book.  That just meant tying plastic bags on the front and back covers so as to not glue the whole book together.

The stuff I had looked up online suggested using a glue brush, but that seemed like extra work, so I just used my finger to smear glue on, which worked perfectly.  Also, my fingers are easy to wash off.  Also, it didn't take much glue.  I was surprised at how little it took.

Next I brought it to the basement and clamped it for several hours.  Basically until I remembered about it and had time.  That made it dry without warping the pages, which was handy.

We had some issues with water coming in the basement, so all of our fans in storage for the winter ended up next to our work bench.  Since I didn't need to actually be there, except for the obvious tightening of the clamp thing, it didn't bother me.  But that's why there are two fans visible in this photo!

Once it was dry I measured the kindle on the book, only to discover that they were pretty much the same size.  Oops.  I figured, whatever, I'll just have skinny walls and no extra space.  As you can see, I was working on newspaper, because I was afraid that I'd cut our granite counter tops or something.  Spill glue.  Something to mess them up.  So I had newspaper-covered work area for myself.

Then I used a straight blade tool thing to cut out the innards.  It took... a lot of time.  I listened to much Adventures in Odyssey, and it passed rather enjoyably, but because I had to make sure that there would be enough space for my Kindle, it took a long time. Much chaotic cutting, then some measurements.  Well, not so much measurements as just taking my Kindle and sort of dropping it in the hole every once in a while.  It worked.

And then it was Saturday night and I had to go and I sort of left the project over the weekend.  But... tune in next time for the exciting second part.  Did I finish it?  Did I stop to think that the power button is on the bottom of the Kindle, thereby not exactly easy to turn on when the Kindle is tucked away in the book?  Did I stop to realize that if the Kindle was tightly in there it might be impossible to take out?

Seriously, tune in next time.  You don't want to miss the drama, my friends.  

Oh little town of Awesome

In our house we have a "winter snow village," kept on the buffet between the microwave and filing cabinets.  The little houses have lights in them, and on dark evenings it actually looks quite cozy.  It's a replica of the one of maternal grandparents had for years, and we have many fun times setting it up and admiring it from Thanksgiving through January and fondly remembering seeing the same snow village at their house in days gone by.  There are different designs, and when we were kids (also... now) we had it all worked out as to who had which house.  There's one that is for my parents, and each of us kids (and their respective families, whether or not they know it, haha) "have a house" so that we refer to it as theirs.  For instance, when a bulb goes out, it doesn't just go out in "the yellow house," but rather we say "Oh, the bulb burned out in Dad and Mom's house!" and we all know what we're talking about.  The village had been unchanged for years, until...

My mom was at CVS last year doing regular-type shopping, and happened to see some buildings that looked enough like the regular village to put with them.  They weren't just regular houses, though, one was a hotel thing (for our overflow company), and one was... my house.  As you can see from the picture, my mom got a library and now we just call it my house.  Fare thee well, houses with turrets and bridges.  My Christmas Village house is a Library.  Sweet!

Spice it up

What you are looking at is a picture of the back of my closet door, in addition to an over-stuffed closet.  I have pretty much everything I own shoved in my closet right now, due to some space wars in my sister's two closets.  It's all good, but now I have to go through and get rid of everything because I sort of have more clothes than I thought.  Just love me some closet cleaning!  Um, or mostly not.  : )

Anyhow, my library has a basket set out of free book covers.  They apparently worry that kids are going to chew on the paper covers, so they take them off and have only hardcover books.  Smart of them, and handy for me.  See, I really tend to like clutter.  Yes, 'tis true, I like to see stuff.  My walls are evidence of that.  I have a sister who lives like someone in a concentration camp, and her house is almost frightening, due to a lack of, you know, stuff.  But anyhow, all that to say, I take the book covers and tape them haphazardly on the back on my closet door, so that when I open my closet in the morning it's a bit more cheery.

I was realizing though that I really haven't read many of the books represented on my closet door.  Which I should remedy.  Or take down the book covers, I suppose.  Oh, the hard decisions in life!

Stop. No, seriously, stop.

Whilst I drive about my town-away-from-town (which is to say, where I go to babysit a lot and hence spend much time), I see this sign often and think: what prompted it?  Who first decided that they absolutely needed to specify that you must STOP HERE, by order of the POLICE?  Usually a simple Stop Bar or, you know, red light does the trick.  It makes me a little afraid of the intersection, actually.

So I thought I'd share the picture, so you guys can wonder as have I.

Start at Square 0

While in England, we went to the Prime Meridian.  Cool place, for people who like standing on Line Zero of the Lines of Longitude.  Personally, I like to stand on line zero.  Anyhow, we sort of raced through the park, and didn't pay to go to the museum (which was super sad, because I once read a fascinating book about John Harrison, who was a brilliant man who is apparently heavily featured in Greenwich attractions), but went to where the line was and stood about, taking photos.

Exhibit B.  Our feet.  Mine are the second ones back.  Running shoes are the only shoes for tourists (sorry, friend in front who took the time to pack cute purple boots.  I eschew cute shoes on vacation).  The end.  That or Nike flip-flops, which of course I could not wear.  But that's another story.  Anyhoo, sometimes I just like to think "remember that time I was in two hemispheres at once?  Good times.

Just realized: the shoes I wore?  Nike.  The flip-flops I love?  Nike.  I sometimes scare myself with all the unintentional brand loyalty I show.  Weird.

So, I made a cake...

We had a wedding shower recently, and I was voted Most Likely To Have Time to Make a Cake, as you can see evidenced in this photo.  I'd never had to do cake decoration before, and, well, as you can tell, my idea of decorating a cake is melting chocolate chips and using a sandwich bag as a icing squirter.  Anyhow, it tasted okay, I s'pose.  Can't go wrong with those boxed cakes!

Barber shop

I am not a professional hair cutter.  In fact, I don't think that it's even proper grammar to call one's self a hair cutter.  Barber?  Stylist?  Cosmetologist?  I have no idea.  However, I do cut my dad's hair, and my brother's.  My dad needed a haircut about two weeks ago, which I happily administered, and my brother decided on Monday that he needed one, too.  Legit.  He totally did.

So I cut his hair, and then gave my mom a trim, and then I cut my own bangs (sadly, nobody in my house is a hair cutter).  Three heads of hair in an evening.  Nice.  The following day my sister showed up from out of town and I cut her hair, too, and then my aunt came over and I cut her hair as well.

An awful picture of me attempting a haircut



It made me laugh to realize I'd cut so much hair in such a short amount of time.  Five heads?  For a girl who really doesn't have much experience with the cutting of hair?  Anyhow, everyone seemed marginally happy when all was said and done, so I was thinking maybe I'd open up a hair salon or something!  Just kidding.



Anyhow, as I was looking in my trashcan full of hair, I wouldn't help but consider Absalom.  I mean, seriously, what was he doing with all that hair?  HOW DID IT GROW SO FAST?  I could donate to Locks of Love all the time with hair like that!  Sigh.



Kindling a little fire

I am super blessed.  Which we already knew.  But a kindly gift for my birthday caused me to be the happy recipient of a Kindle Fire, which, may I dare say, is swell.  Turning pages in it is so fun... Is that a nerdy thing to say?  Yes, yes it is.  But anyhow, it does all sorts of fun things, and has many apps, and no, no, I have not downloaded Angry Birds onto it.  I find that game irksome.  I do have Bejeweled.  I could waste hours on that game.  Sometimes I do.

But that is all besides the point.  My real point is that it is lovely and wonderful and pretty. 

Dear Amazon,
Thou art brill.
The End.

Eshcol's Grapes

The other night at dinner we were reading Numbers 13, and it took us quite a while to read through the whole chapter.  We kept getting very distracted (nothing unusual) and eventually my dad pretty much fell asleep at the table.  That was when we decided we'd pretty much exhausted every possible avenue of discussion about the chapter.

First I had to remark that I thought it was weird that Moses just sort of renamed Joshua in verse 16.  Then my mother was a tad appalled because it was adding the word Jehovah to the name, which is a good thing, and not weird.  My poor parents.

Then in verse 22 there's a random addition regarding Hebron.  It goes, "(Now Hebron was built seven years before Zoan in Egypt.)"  So then we had to discuss for some time why exactly this was important.  I mean, Egypt is a picture of the world in the Bible, and seven is a much-loved number of perfection, but when you put those pieces together, does it mean something deep and important?  We didn't decide.

We took a break partway through dinner to use the dictionary to look up something about gifts, though I recall not what.



Then we got to verse 23, which is a verse about Eshcol's grapes, and we had to all share our story of when we first had the eureka moment as to what this hymn by Mary Bowley actually meant.  Pretty much when I was young I didn't get it, because, the line goes, "The manna and the springing well suffice for every need; and Eshcol's grapes the story tell of where Thy path doth lead," and as a kid that was not enough.  Because Eshcol's grapes were telling a story about where the path did lead, but let's be honest, unless you know the story of the grapes, that doesn't make the most sense ever.



My friend and I aren't eating Eshcol's Grapes,
but rather grapes in Romania one time.  Mmm.



Anyhow.  I just wrote a bunch of stuff about God's way being the best way etc. but then when I tried to add that nifty picture of my friend and I eating Romanian grapes it deleted my last paragraph.  So now I'm done.  But anyhow, pictures make a blog much more spruced, so I figure I should try to put pictures up from time to time.  At least enough so my blog isn't so blase... 

Already?

I love Thanksgiving.  It's my favorite-ever holiday, but this year it seems to have come out of nowhere!  I can't believe it's already that time of year!  We were making the lists today of what dishes we were having and I just feel like I haven't savored it enough.  But a roaring fire, some even-more-than-usually-long meals with the family, some wassail, and the smell of turkey (blegh) will doubtless cure of me of that.

Yes, remember?  I'm the weirdo who likes neither turkey nor pumpkin pie.  But being as Thanksgiving has an overabundance of food, it's not like I could possibly go hungry.  : )

Today I'm thankful for my memory.

For the sake of variety

I was switching some things around with my comments, because there have been some issues, and I decided to change my template to... pretty much white.  Could I get any more boring?  I guess not.  Regardless, that's what I decided I liked best.

For those of you who haven't heard about my trip, which would actually officially be all of you, it went mostly as follows: From Wednesday the 1st through Wednesday the 9th we were in England.  We mostly bummed around in London, however, we took a trip to Oxford on Lord's Day, and a day trip to Paris on Tuesday.  There were five of us, which ended out working well, only minus the fact that most of the train cars have the four-chairs-facing-each-other thing, so we'd have to split up a bit on the trains.  What worked really well is that we were loud enough so that in the evenings, as we took the train back to our kindly hosts' house, we would sort of scare off the other passengers from our train car, so we'd have the whole car to ourselves.  That was pretty nifty.

Also, while in Oxford one of the girls bought a New Oxford Dictionary of Slang or some such thing and we happened upon the definition of "crusty," which meant a group of unwashed young people with very little money and no fixed place to stay, which we decided was pretty much us.  We had a place to stay, and we were fairly faithful with the showering, but we were sort of a pack of young people who had very little money, so it only made sense.   The picture you see is one of us counting our change one night on the train.  We were all very economical and would pinch pennies.  Literally, pennies.  Only, they're pence in England, and centime or something weird in France.

And that's all I have for you tonight.  Mostly: we had fun.  Also: we were kind of hobo-like at times.  Also: I miss foreign countries.  Also: I really like to be at home, too.

So pretty!

I'm back from England and loving this picture of St. Paul's that probably won't turn out because, well, it's a dark photo and weird. But it was so gorgeous!
Dear England, please have me back any time. Sincerely, a devoted fan.

Beautiful Feet

I always thought the verse about how beautiful are thy feet with shoes was pretty weird.  If you have shoes on, you can't even see the feet, so what's the point?  Yes, I am one of those people.  The kind who hate shoes.  Honestly, the Lord made Adam and Eve coats of skin in the garden but it doesn't say anything about shoes, so maybe we shouldn't have to wear them?  Not to mention, the Lord told people to take their shoes off (actually, some people had maybe only one leg?  twice it tells people to take the shoe from the foot, not shoe from feet.  Maybe the Diddle Diddle Dumpling John had it right all along...)  on holy ground, so obviously shoes hamper something-er-other.

All that being said, you can imagine how difficult it was to promise one of my going-to-England-together friends that I wouldn't bring flip-flops on our journey.  I would have you know that it's suppose to be in the upper 50s while we're there, which to me seems like perfectly reasonable flip-flop weather.  Also, I don't even remember the last time I went on vacation without my trusty Nike flip-flops.  I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of wearing such comfortable things on your feet, but if not, you're missing out.  Honestly, they are the most amazing things ever.  Like a hug for the foot.  And, speaking as someone who dislikes things to interfere with my foot-to-ground ratio, that's saying a lot.

I heard once that girls walk around the house in their first pair of heels, to practice walking.  I never did that, but what I have found myself doing this week is wearing a shoes a lot, just so I can get a feel for the whole feet-being-shod thing.  Allow me to say: ick.  Honestly, my feet just aren't happy in shoes.  But I've gotten a lot of practice, so hopefully next week I won't feel frantic about all the shoe-wearing I have to do.

Chiefly I regret saying that I wouldn't bring my flip-flops.  I think I'll try to renegotiate the terms of our arrangement.  I can... buy her a meal while we're there or something, as long as I can bring the shoes of my choice?

She's pretty much never going to go for that.  Sorrow.

Doomed

I was just talking to my sister today about my psychological issues.  Like, for instance, the fact that I can't seem to follow a recipe.  I try.  Honestly I do.  And when I'm making cookies, for instance, I really do add all the stuff I need to, and in the correct proportions.  For instance, 4 1/4 c. of flour?  no problems.  But sometimes I get tired of measuring stuff.  I made 8 dozen cookies every week for the past month and didn't once measure the shortening.  So... there's that.

But really, when I look at recipes it's to get inspiration.  Like I told my sister, it's like a colorful inspiration book with cool pictures.  I like to see what other people have done, but the whole "one cup chopped celery" is beyond me.  It bothers me to measure stuff.  I prefer to add spices until I think it smells right.  That's how I cook.

I should practice following actual recipes one time, just to make sure I know how.  Seriously.  No worcestershire sauce and cumin just for fun next time.

Purity

Quite some time ago, back in August, in fact, I came across an interesting portion of the Sunday School Paper with this quote:  "Read [the Bible] every day, and ask the Lord Jesus to show you what it means and how its precious words can bring purity and usefulness into your life."

Maybe not the most profound thing ever, but I was really struck by it.  Because there has long time been discussion about what purity means.  Mostly people say it's, you know, being pure, and from a personal standpoint quantify purity as whatever boundaries they've set up for themselves. But too often we (I) think of purity as something physical, sort of the way you act, whereas purity should be our way of life.

Something that's pure is something that hasn't been defiled.  By anything.  So really, purity is sort of a huge deal.  Like holiness, it's more a reflection on your life then on your actions.

Speaking of, you don't even want to know how many people don't realize that the phrase "holier than thou" is from the Bible.  People assume it's sort of a made-up phrase because it sounds fun.  Not so, my Spanish galleons.  It's there!

Sorry.  That was random.

Huzzah!

Not to make everyone jealous, but I just thought I should point out that in exactly three weeks I'll be in England, Lord willing.  We should be in Oxford on that Friday.

YAY!!

Nothing

I was helping my nephew (ish nephew) do his homework yesterday and he had to write out six sentences about the moon.  He did a unit about the moon and I guess they were just checking to see if the kids had learned anything.  So anyhow, one of the things he wanted to write was that there was "nothing on the moon."  We spent some time discussing what the word "nothing" meant.  If nothing is the absence of anything, then is there really nothing?  I know guys supposedly have the ability to think about "nothing," but other than that, not much can be referred to as nothing.

When we say there's "nothing" in the fridge, usually is means that there's nothing we want to eat.  When there's "nothing" going on, usually it means there's nothing we want to do.  So really, nothing is such a misused word.  In my opinion.

In other news.... I have nothing to report.  : )

Ships, of the friend variety

Over the weekend I was thinking a lot about friendships.  I was in a place where usually I have several close friends, but this time didn't.  I had a lot of very good friends there, don't get me wrong, but none of the usuals.  But it was cool, because I got to spend more time than I might have with my other friends.

I think friendship is fascinating, quite honestly.  That once upon a time there was someone you didn't know, but over time got to know them well enough that, when asked you say, "Her?  She's definitely my friend!" 

This weekend I was having a moment that may or may not have involved some tears (most decidedly did involve tears, haha, but for a good cause: my brother would have been 25 years old and, well, you know) and a friend of mine was able to be there for me.  And it's not like I would have expected her to be weirded out by me randomly crying during a poorly-sung rendition of It Is Well or anything, but it made me so happy that she didn't turn away from the weirdly crying girl but instead put her arm around me and told me she was praying for me.

That was very cool.  A few years ago I didn't even know who she was.  This weekend she reached out to me when nobody else noticed I needed reaching.

So anyhow, I'm glad the Lord gives us friends.

I love it!

Not to go all Job on everyone (ever notice that Job talks about the weather pretty much all the time?), but the weather here is fantastic.  It was cold over the weekend, in the 40s, and I had to shut my bedroom windows so we could turn on the heat in our house.  It was a sad moment for me, as I try to acknowledge winter only when November rolls around.

But today is fantastic.  It's in the upper 60s and I just want to run across a field in my barefeet.  I just may do that, in fact.  My birthday falls on a Sunday this year, so I'm taking today as my fake birthday.  I slept in, haven't done a single virtuous thing all day, went to two bookstores and the library.

A marvelous birthday gift to myself, I must admit.

But seriously.  This weather.  I, like Job, shall call it "Fair weather" and declare it came from the North.  Obviously, I'm directionally challenged and don't know my left from my right or my North from my South, but it's fantastic, no matter where it originated.

Time for a change

Blogger has a lot of cool new templates, but they mostly look boring on my blog thanks to my complete lack of pictures or anything interesting on my blog.  Other than words.  I do have plenty of words.  So anyhow, I figured a new background was the least I could do.

So welcome to my new "travel-themed" blog.

I'll probably change it again next week.  Just so we're clear.

Bibley words

I love words.  Truly I do.  I one time read Fly By Night not so much for the plot but because the author so clearly loved words and knew how to use them with finesse.  I read Reading the OED not so much because I applauded the guy who had no job so he could read a dictionary, but because anyone who spent a year reading the Oxford English Dictionary has a level of Word Love I could only hope to one day reach.

 

All that being said, I was thinking about words in the Bible.  It, obviously, is full of the Words of Life, which is very important, but I was thinking specifically of the fact that since I read the King James Version, I run across so very many fun words.  Even if they're not traditionally "fun" words, it's still amusing to run across them in the KJV, like when it references "stuff" in the Bible, discusses the belching of heathens, or those times it talks about taverns or aliens (well, there's only one reference to taverns, as I recall), it just seems amusing because, well, they seem more amusing in the context of the Bible (don't laugh, but I still am amused when I run across references to frying pans in the Bible--which potentially goes to show that I should get out more).  Not to sound irreverent, but it's true.

 

But any words in the Bible ending in -some, like noisesome, or burdensome... don't you wish we still used those words?  I know I do.

 

This isn't a complete list, and PLEASE let me know if you have favorites that aren't on this list, but anyhow, here's a vague off-the-top-of-my-head list of words I like to run across in the Bible.  And I'm sure these words aren't even necessarily all obsolete, but they're obsolete enough to make me wish that more people read their Bibles so we could hurry up and get these words back into the common vernacular.

 

Ladeth.  Because I think we should still use it.  I wish the "eth" thing hadn't gone out of style so long ago.  "Why are we letting him road trip with us?  He ladeth our car down with his longboards and it's just getting annoying."

 

Magnifical.  Because WHAT AN AWESOME WORD.  I use it sometimes and was derided once for it being made-up.  "Not-uh.  It's in the Bible."  "Is not."  "Is too."  "Where?"  "The... temple stuff somewhere.  You know."  "You're making that up."  "Am not!"  You get the idea.  But it's good for any or all occasions.  The "magnifical cheesecake" works as well as "the Colosseum was magnifical."  It's sort of appropriate for any situation.

 

Anything ending in -ish.  When I read the Law of the Leper chapter and it describes things as being greenish and reddish, or when Job talks about something being "blackish" it just cheers my soul.  I went through a multi-year phase where everything ended in an -ish.  A friend of mine finally started calling me Joish.  But you can imagine how cool it would be if we brought back the color -ishes.  "You just repainted, right?  What color?"  "Reddish."  "Oh, like... more pink."  "No, I mean reddish.  That's the color."  "Yeah...  that makes SO much sense.  Or not."

 

Gazingstock.  Because it seems to so nicely combine being put in stocks as an example and a much-stared-at curiosity.  "My Sunday School teacher made me the gazingstock of the class when he caught me texting, which is NO FAIR because the other kids do it all the time and don't get in trouble!"

 

Bountifulness.  "The bountifulness of this Thanksgiving feast reminds me yet again of how much I have for which to be thankful!" And also, costliness.  Because all words deserve more than one suffix.

 

Solemnities.  This isn't obsolete, I know, but I feel like the number of occasions which could be referred to as "solemnities" are dwindling in our society.  But who knows?  Maybe they use this all the time in England or something.  "The solemnities of the past week reminded us that the queen isn't getting any younger, and some changes are surely coming our way."  Heh.  I don't even really know how you'd use solemnities properly.  I'll think of something.

 

Worthies.  Every time I stumble across this word in Nahum I can't help but think of the word "homies."  "F'real, what's he doin'?"  "Oh, he had to talk to all his worthies about their excessive stumbling, yo."

 

Troublous.  "These are troublous times we're in.  First they came for the users of blue pens, but I wasn't a user of blue pens, so I didn't stop them.  Then they came for the ones who left the trash cans on the curb for days but I was above that, so I didn't step in.  Now they've come for those of us who spend altogether too much time trying to slide words like 'insomuch' and 'notwithstanding' into everyday conversation, and there's nobody left to stop them!"

 

Holily.  I'm not going to lie: I didn't even notice this word until a few months ago when I was Bibleing in Thessalonians with my Bibleing buddies.  I'd obviously seen it before, but somehow missed it.  Clearly, since then I've delighted in the word, but honestly, I haven't found many things that can be described as having been done "holily."  I'm still working on that.

So, help me out here.  What do you like to run across in the Bible?  Do you enjoy running across words like sheriff?  parlours?  darling?  silly doves?  when people in the Bible say 'aha'?  the brief Santa Claus feeling you get when reading Zechariah 2:6?

 

And I have the feeling that nobody uses the links I sometimes provide for Bible references and such, and I really didn't feel like spending half of my evening looking up these places, so if you're curious as to where these words are in the Bible, just go to blueletter or Biblegateway and look them up.

 

Thanks for bearing with me.  When I started thinking about this last night I had no idea I'd think of so many! 

Airborne hogs

Pigs flew last week.  Honestly they did.  Just in our own household there were two reasons that caused that old proverb about pigs flying come true.

First.  Our family got *drum roll, please!* Air Conditioning!  If I knew how to make the font all glittery and do a little dance, I would.  My parents have notoriously held out on getting A/C because we like fresh air and such.  But over the summer as the temperature climbed to the high 90s with at least one brief foray into the double digits, and the humidity topped 100% more than once, it was just... not a fun summer to rely upon the power of fans and fresh summer breezes.

So.  We have A/C.

Second piece of mind-blowing news.  I discovered a piece of Cubist art that I liked!  WHAT?  After years of shuddering at the very name Picasso (we were once going to name a cat Picasso and my brother and I vetoed it in favor of Billy Josephus because we couldn't stand to have a Picasso in the house), I found an artist whose work not only could I stomach, but enjoy.

Yes, please.  Take your time.  Let it sink in.  I said it:  I enjoyed the art.

Wow.  It's hard to even write.

Anyhow, Juan Gris is the artist who turned my anti-Cubism work upside-down.  Not all of his stuff (I looked him up after I came home from the museum at the which I saw some of his artwork), and in fact, the two I saw were two of my favorites of his work in general, and I certainly don't prefer a lot of his stuff.  But I saw the work called Pen and Pipe and really enjoyed it.

So.  There's that.

Also, I have a whole new level of respect for Alexander Calder.  I read a book about him once (well, sort of.  Some kids like his art and have adventures based on stuff about mobiles) and thought, meh, he's not that cool, but recently had seen a bunch of his stuff and liked it, in that "Oh goodness, I actually know what I'm looking at!" kind of way, but over the weekend when I was at the museum there was a display where you could create your own mobiles a la Calder, and it was a lot harder than it looked.  I am officially impressed with his vision.

I'm sure you all really wanted to hear about art today, right?  Ahem.  Yes.  And now I leave you to your own life.

I don't seem to have a title for this

I was reading last week's offering from PluggedIn, and saw this statistic:

"Nielsen estimates that Americans currently spend 53 billion minutes a month on Facebook, a number spread among 150 million users. When you add up all those minutes, it equals a whopping 100,000 years of Facebook time per month by U.S. users. Individually it averages out to 11.6 minutes per day."

Needless to say, I was flummoxed.  The thought of so very many minutes spent on facebook just... I can't even fathom.  I'll admit, I have facebook.  I go on about once a week, or every other week, if I have the inclination.  When a big event just happened I tend to go on more often in order to see photos and what-not, but that much time is just too much time.

Then again, it's people like me who make the average so low.  You know there are some people out there who use more than their average of 11.6 minutes a day.  In fact, when I DO go on, that's probably about how long I spend.  I look at all the birthdays I missed, write cutsey little messages, and click on some of the most looked at photo albums.  Done and done.  The whole chatting thing makes me want to cry, and the whole looking through everyone's status updates thing makes me feel like my life is slowly slipping away.

I have nothing against facebook (when used properly), so don't get me wrong.  I'm not saying you shouldn't have it (unless you don't want it, in which case you should stand strong in opposition thereof!), but what I am saying is that it shouldn't be such a big part of so many lives.  That's all.

As for me, I think I'm going to go spend 11.6 minutes napping.  Ciao!

Judge not

This has nothing to do with judging in the traditional manner.  It's just that sometimes I need to examine my own beam before I look at my sibling's mote.  I have a sister who has some unusuually named children.  Which is fine.  I'm just saying.

However, you know Thomas?  Remember him?  One of his train pals is a friend named Skarloey.  And... I like the name.  I'd spell it differently, and use it as a name for a girl, but honestly, I kind of love it.  Say it a few times.  It grows on you.

So anyhow, it's just a good reminder for me to, you know, stop raising my eyebrows at all the Apples and Moons of this world.

No, seriously.  Say the name again.  Skarloey.  Mm?  Also, Skarloey is a very helpful train, and a good friend.  Good role model right off the bat.  Yay!

Pirates

I think I could be a Pirate Who Doesn't Do Anything.  Some days I think I could be lazy full-time.  But... I don't know.  Chances are, I'd miss doing stuff.  So I guess the pirate's life is not for me.

Alas.

I wonder

Do you ever get really curious about things while reading the Bible?  Because sometimes when I read, and especially the Old Testament when the stuff that happens is mostly drama-full (I'm in 2 Thessalonians right now, and as much as I love Paul's stuff, it doesn't have quite the same flavor as in the time of the Kings and such), I have questions that aren't important, but that I'm looking forward to having answered in Heaven one day.

For instance, does anyone else wonder what happened to Goliath's sword?  In 1 Samuel 21:9 it was given to David to protect against Saul (again) and we know the results of that: Saul had the priests killed.  But what happened to it after that?  One might assume that a weapon of such size might be slightly difficult to conceal.  But (as far as I remember, anyhow) it's not mentioned again in the Bible, leading one to assume that it just disappeared somewhere.  Maybe beaten into a plowshare at some point or something, haha.  But it's always been curious to me.

Speaking of, in the next chapter it talks about David going to the King of Moab to help hide his parents.  All good and well, we know David did a lot of weird things to prevent being killed off by Saul, but when he went to Moab was it with a specific purpose?  Because when you hark back to the story of Ruth and Boaz, you see that Jesse was actually their grandson, making David a great-grandson to a Maobitess.  But that's what I wonder:  did the king of Moab know that when David brought Jesse and the Mrs. to him for protection?  Did he partially do it because they were kind of related to his country?  Or did he just like the whole political intrigue of hiding high-profile parents?  

Those are just two examples.

I totally can't wait for Heaven.

Something borrowed, something new

There's that phrase that an apple a day keeps the doctor away (I guess if you keep throwing it at him he'll eventually never come back, so it could make sense?  haha, just kidding, I know what it means), but my dad is a firm believer in the "learn one new thing a day to keep the old age and empty mind away," philosophy.

In fact, he used to ask, "what's something you should do every day?" and up until probably six months ago my siblings and I would confusedly answer, "pray?  read your Bible?  brush your teeth?" and now we're finally smart enough to know the answer.  Phew.  But anyhow, it's a good philosophy.  I approve.

Which makes it nice when I read my magazines.  I know I've gone over this before, but yes, I read children's magazines.  Muse and Cricket are my go-to publications, especially now that I've decided that Time and Christianity Today probably weren't worthy ways to spend my time.  True story.  

I've been feeling recently like maybe I'm growing out of Cricket (it's aimed at 9-14 year-olds, if that's any sort of clue), but this month's issue had a really interesting article about Louis Braille.  Everyone knows who Louis Braille is, and I always thought he was pretty brilliant (when I was a kid, braille seemed like the best thing ever: reading in the DARK?  how much better could life get!?) but I didn't realize until I read the article that he was basically shunned for inventing such a "travesty."  After all, thought the world in those days, wouldn't a series of dots just magnify the differences between the seeing and the sight-impaired?  The sentiments were so strong against braille that the blind school where Louis was taught as a child (the same place he developed braille between the ages of 13 and 15) and taught as a teacher in his adult years actually banned braille.  True story.  The school had a book-burning and said that braille was absolutely not to be used.

Yikes.

But after years of championing his method, the school finally allowed braille to be used, and the world at large became more accepting thereof.  Of course, Louis died shortly thereafter of TB, but hey, at least he saw it happen in his lifetime, right?

Anyhow, I thought it was fascinating.  And it made me glad to be reading magazines for small children, because they have useful information packaged up in easy-to-read articles.  Oh, and last month?  Muse had an excerpt from a book about that computer, Watson, who won Jeopardy.  It was really good and did a good job of explaining how algorithms work.  Never thought I'd be able to say that.

So anyhow, my piece of advice is this: if you're aiming to learn one new thing a day but haven't a lot of time or motivation, learn from those who have already dumbed it down for children.  It's more fun that way.  And, in the case of Muse, just might involve a hefty dose of pie-throwing.  It's just their thing.  Trust me, it makes more sense then their obsession with hot pink bunnies!

Huh?

As I was purging my room recently I ran across a file of stuff I'd written a while ago.  A while being "within the last probably five years but long enough that I don't have any recollection of actually writing such things."  But I literally have no idea what I was trying to say in half of them.  I imagine poets encounter the same problem when they find poems from the olden days, or artists who look at their young work and think, "did this mean something?"

Not like I'm comparing my words to those of a poets, or the brushstrokes of an artist (because, um, no, I do not wield that sort of power with my pen, I tell you what!), but it's just a feeble comparison.  For instance, apparently one day I was watching people who stride through glass sliding doors and felt a little bit jealous because I always have to pause before I go through them, or run into them.  Seriously, listen to this:

"That’s what annoys me about confident people, they make such bold assumptions. I mean, I sometimes just look at the person who confidently strides towards the sliding glass doors, not slowing down even a step, because somehow they know that the door will open for them. How do they do that? I stop for a painful second before believing that the doors will open sufficiently for me to pass through. I am not that person.

And people who have the appearance of being calm at all times. How does that even work? I see people, often, those calm-types, the type who, when it’s raining manage to merely walk through the parking lot, not caring that it’s raining with such ferocity. They don’t mind getting wet, and heaven forbid they should just make a run for it. They keep going, even pausing to find the correct key, and then they will calmly climb into their car, enter their house, or tape the door shut on their cardboard box of a home. I’m the type of person who has to run through the rain to get where I want to be. I rush through a store if I feel I’m late, even though others might be amazing enough to just walk purposely, as though that would be enough."

Admittedly, not much of that makes sense, but kudos to me for using the word ferocity.  I don't find much occasion for that word.  Also, the chances of me having seen someone tape themself into a cardboard house are pretty much zero.  I do not know what I was talking about.  Also (part 2), I have no idea why walking through a store purposely was considered "amazing."

You thought that made little sense?  Read this one.  Your brain will hurt.

"Either way, I haven’t gotten a piece of this to take with me the whole time. I don’t understand where in the world we could take these thoughts from. We always make things us: we assume we have all the answers, though we rarely have so much as a clue. Answers? Not so much. We wish we could change things, yet we don’t try. We don’t put effort into anything; we don’t attempt to alter the course of things that cannot rightfully be ours to begin with. How can we change pieces of history that weren’t ours to make? How can we switch courses that aren’t planned through our own free will? We take no thought for what we may do with His power, we seek those things that are "our own destinies." We don’t understand that our destiny, once yielded to His, is no longer our own. And destiny? As if the word commands more power than does His will. We haven’t a thought for the things we disown. We merely seek those things that own us. We seek the things beyond our reach, closer to the stars than our humble dwelling we call home. We don’t look for those things which are above: to do such would be to seek Him in the truest sense. We, as humans, merely seek the things that are above us. Our feeblest senses cannot seem to enter into the purity that could be ours, should we divest ourselves from the enemy that is our own flesh. Why is it, that one of our three mortal enemies should be ourselves?"

Is there a word for "quite possibly hadn't slept for days when writing that," do you think?

As much as I'd like my posterity to be able to have stuff of mine to get a sense of what it was to live in 2011, I'm sometimes afraid of what they'll find.  Because seriously, WHAT?

Not to mention--did I never start my thoughts at the beginning?  Both of those pieces of whatever they are start as if they're following something else.  Why would I jump into a rant about confident people?  why the confusing paragraph about free will and stars that begins, "either way" when there is nothing coming before to answer such a question?

I found one about Lewis Carroll as well.  Apparently I gave him the benefit of the doubt as to not being on drugs and figured he just wrote words at random and gave them to a publisher who was asleep (?) the day they published Alice in Wonderland.  I guess I wasn't too keen on Lewis Carroll.  Good to know.

I like to think of it as sentimental

So basically I try to throw things out appropriately.  By that I mean, I like my life to be at least vaguely uncluttered.  I consider it a good week when my waste basket is full of things I used to want to keep, but have now successfully detached myself from and am able to toss without undue sorrow.

 

That being said, I've been working extra this week on de-cluttering my life.  I had some extra time and thought it best to scour my belongings for things I no longer needed.  My walls are still covered in photos and I still have a regrettable assortment of knickknacks (but only if they have some sort of sentimental value to me--I don't just keep stuff around for the fun of it.  Usually), but my closet and drawers are looking much better.

 

But what I have found so amusing this week is that I have tended, throughout the years, to label things surprisingly well.  While looking through a box wherein I had papers I thought were important (all dating at least nine years back, containing notes I'd written to my older brother, a memento I got from a family reunion we had, etc.) I found an envelope carefully labeled as candle wax from the memorial service we went to on the one year anniversary of September 11th.  Ironic, considering that that was just this week, but I don't think that the envelope had seen the light of day for the past nine years.

 

I'm sure I'll end up throwing it out (candle wax?  seriously?) but at the same time, if little twelve-year-old me went through all the trouble of saving the wax, labeling the envelope, and putting it into my memory box, shouldn't Present Day Me be allowed to feel sentimentality both towards the memory of September 11 as well as Shorter Me?

 

I think I have issues.  I should feel free to throw things away.  Ugh.  I wish Shorter Me hadn't labeled it so well.  Then I wouldn't have known what is was, wrinkled up my nose at unidentified candle wax, and thrown it away without regret.

 

Sigh.

Ten years

On September the 11th, 2001 our family was going to go to the zoo.  It was our field trip, and my mom was wrapping up some things on the phone with the airline (wouldn't have dreampt of booking online in those days!) working out some details for our flight to go out to California for Christmas.  Half way through her call, the Southwest operator put her on hold.  And kept her waiting for several minutes.  Eventually the woman came back on the phone, apologized for the delay, and proceeded to book our flights.

My mom called my dad at work to confirm that the flights were booked.  To which he said, "Haven't you heard?  The country is under attack!"  The poor woman at the airline had no doubt gotten the news as it was happening, but without a tv, we were a bit clueless.  We decided to head off to the zoo, I mean, what did two airplanes crashing into New York towers have to do with us?  But we'd gotten about three blocks away from home when, after listening to the radio, we realized that the situation truly was as serious as my dad had made it out to be.  We turned around and called the zoo, to confirm that they were still open.  They weren't.  The whole country shut down that day.  A wounded nation unsteady after such loss.

I remember listening to the radio coverage all day, even though I couldn't follow most of what was going on.  Taking pictures of all the flags that were put up around town.  Going to the memorial held at our University for the families affected by the loss.  Having a special prayer meeting.  Wondering if things would ever be the same.

So basically, what everyone else did on that Tuesday, and the following days and weeks.  And here we are, ten years later.  Who would have thought?

I wasn't personally affected by the tragedy.  Our family knows people who were in the area, but I don't know them well.  And I didn't lose anyone in the attacks.  But I still pray for them sometimes.  In our local cemetary is a monument to one of our locals who died in the Trade Towers that day.  As I pass I pray for his family and wonder how things are going.

This wasn't very deep, but sometimes you just want to acknowledge it.  So today I'm praying extra for those whose lives were changed in ways I can't even fathom.  May they lean on the Everlasting Arms for comfort.

Bordering on Sorrow

Went to Borders today.  Again.  For about the 12th time since they announced their doors were closing for good.  It was sad.  Everything good is gone, and most of the bookshelves are sold (3 book cases for $99?  they'd better be sold!) and it feels like the end of an era.  I appreciate Barnes & Noble and all, but Borders was always my favorite.  I feel bereft knowing my children will never know the store as anything other than "that store that's been out of business for FOREVER but Mommy just won't let go of."  Sigh.  (I'll teach them the no-preposition-at-the-end rule at some point.  For some reason they just won't follow it when finishing that sentence.)

I befriended one of the employees, and he cheerfully gave me the scoop, which is to say, this last price break (everything 70-90% off) is going to be the lowest they go (as far as he knows) and that the two stores near us are closing officially next Thursday.  We also discussed the liquidation company that now technically owns Borders (and if by that I mean that there is no such thing as Borders any more--they don't exist...) and Books-a-Million (we don't have any in the vicinity, but one just bought the location of one of our Borders and so we'll finally have one.  Silver lining, I guess...), and why this particular employee has decided to retire instead of try to find a new job after Borders shuts down for good.  All in all, it was fascinating, albeit a bit sad, and then he gave me some extra discounts at the cash register.  I love when people start telling their LifeStory (TM) to me and next thing I know we're friends.  Or something.

But seriously, I'll miss Borders.  I've had such good times in there!  I used to compel people to go into the kid's section and read Children's books to one another, just because it seemed funny.  I met some Christian teenagers in Borders one time who were looking for the "perfect Bible" for one of their friends, and we ended up discussing why they thought Arphaxad was such a cool name and the merits of bringing shovels with you when you went camping.  I one time lost a cell phone case in Borders.  And parked too close to some lady (so she says--I maintain that I was within the lines of my parking space) who called me to the front courtesy counter to have me move my car.  My brother and I would field trip there to mock vampire books.  My friends and I would go and covet their expensive craft books.  I got my first copy of Pride and Prejudice at Borders.  I went to Borders after the third book in The Giver series came out (Messenger) and looked at it sadly, right after my brother died, because he'd so been looking forward to it coming out.  I read it for the both of us.  My friend and I went to an Apolo Ohno booksigning there.  Borders was where I always deliberated over my journal choices, debating which one had the best line width and appropriate bindings.  I bought birthday gifts there, and prizes for my Sunday School class, and generally enjoyed smelling their books.

I'm going to miss that.

Borders, I'll miss you.  Thank you for 40 years of bookish awesomeness.

Oh, Euty

Last Sunday we were talking about Eutychus in our Sunday School class, and I was talking to the girls about being examples.  I brought up Euty because I was reading the story the other day and it made me ponder more about examplehood.  Not that that's a word.  But what's interesting to me about the story of Euty is that he wasn't paying attention to Paul, or got tired, or whatever happened, and fell asleep and ended up taking a tumble into the yard.

How this relates to examples:  So, say Eutychus had a younger brother or something who saw the severity of what happened to Euty (whether or not Eutychus actually died or was just presumed dead was a matter of some debate at the breakfast table this morning, interestingly enough) but then thought, "Hey, it's okay, he ended up alive.  I'm going to sit in that window sill where I can breathe some fresh air and I'll just make SURE to not fall asleep, since I know what could happen if I did, but even if I did, obviously nothing too horrible happens if I get all Humpty Dumpty."  All good in theory, but what happens if said younger brother actually does have a great fall and can't be brought back up alive again?  What then?

That's the thing.  God in His graciousness gives second chances, and sometimes someone takes a fall, as it were, and it works out fine, but sometimes things don't work out so well for the faller.  And that's why Christians have to be careful to not be the ones to make it seem like it's okay to fall in the first place.  Because the guy who follows (FALLows?)  after might not escape unscathed.

I don't think my Sunday School class necessarily got what I was saying, but hey, they got the gist of it.  I think.  I hope.

Also, I call Eutychus by his way-cooler nickname "Euty" because when I was a youngster I used to have a book of Bible poems by someone named John Knapp, and it's AWESOME.  Seriously.  You slash your children slash any person would love it.  He writes poems about several obscure persons from the Bible (Ethan the Ezrahite for one) and writes ditties to help you remember the lineage of Abraham's offspring, the churches of Revelation, and why Miriam got leprosy in the Bible instead of being turned into a pillar of pepper.  Trust me, it makes sense.  Anyhow, in one of his poems it references Eutychus and endearingly calls him Euty.  Ever since I first read that I've taken to also calling him Euty.  It has a much nicer ring to it.

Blame it on September

September started out very, very warm.  Like, 90s warm, plus 90 per cent humidity.  True story.  But then we all complained, and so September went all March on us, and right now it's low 60s and sort of rainy all the time. 

Weather is so confusing.  On the plus side, my dad always taught us that the first rule of driving was to leave the windows up, so we're pretty good at making sure we don't inadvertently let rain in the car as the weather turns odd for the fiftieth time.

Also, I'm planning on a cross-country road trip with my aunt and grandma come December, Lord willing, and while I'm sure a lot of folks wouldn't prefer to travel across country with their aunt and grandma, I think it'll be hilarious.  We tease my grandma that we're going to hit up every casino across country, just to get her all riled up about it.  At this point I think we have to lay off the jokes, because now she's getting worried that we'll be inveterate gamblers in no time.  Oops.  Either way, it should be fun.

Be thou an example

My younger sister is learning how to drive.  Which is a good thing for her, and the rest of us, because extra drivers are always useful.  But I've noticed something about myself recently.  Not that she practices her driving with me or anything (I don't have the iron constitution required for coaching new drivers), but when she's been in the car with me as of late I find myself being much more careful about how I drive.

Not that I'm a terrible driver (others may have different opinions...) but rather that I find myself with my hands in the 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock positions, and silently mutter "hand over hand" when turning corners.  Stop bars see such complete stops they're probably confused, and I try not to just hang my arm out of the window, as per my usual preference.

Which made me start thinking about that verse in Timothy about being an example.  As Christians we're supposed to be an example to the world of what a follower of Christ is, but also an example among Christians as well.  And does being an example help us keep ourselves on track, so to speak?  By consciously remembering and choosing to show others what it is to live for Christ, does our life benefit?  I suppose so, though I'd never thought of it in so many words.  When someone is watching what we do, it seems to make sense that we'd be more cognizant of what we did.

Nothing profound, but I tell you, checking my rear view mirrors with great frequency has made me think about this a little more than I typically might.

Addictions

I always was pleased that I wasn't addicted to coffee or sniffing sharpies or anything like that.  Honestly, I feel like addictions are something I can do without.  But the other day, as I surveyed my many library cards (six in my wallet at last count, and yes, I use them all) I wondered if you could have an addiction to library cards.  Or libraries.  Is that possible?

I think I may have to rethink my position on reading and/or books.  Maybe I should take a reading break.  I've taken those before with success and felt more productive for it, but still, I like my half hour (erm... 45 minutes?  an hour?) of reading before I go to bed.  And I know that one day, Lord willing, I'll be a crazy busy mom who doesn't have time for such luxuries, so doesn't it make sense that I read while I may?

I must needs give this some thought.

PS, this wasn't purposeful at all, but as I write this I happen to be sitting at the library.  Good times...

Raindrops on Roses

Some of my favorite things, in no order, and certainly not a complete listing:

Puddles
Pineapple
Bibles.  I'd probably have 50 if it didn't seem excessive.
Pciture books
Libraries
Bookstores
Actually, anything having to do with books
Appropriately swift internet connections
Bags.  I'm not an accesory girl, but I love purses/bags.
Upbeat music
Also, melencholy music
But only if the music is good.  I super dislike naughty music.
Friends
Bibleing with my friends (you know who you are)
Mail.  When it's for me!  and... not a bill.
Nieces and nephews
Come to think of it, pretty much all family.
Fuzzy things
Speedlimits that are reasonably high.  For instance, not 55 mph.
When the doctor's office has cool magazines (aka, not celebrity gossip, but Bloomberg Buisnessweek or something)
Babies
Fairy tales
Couples who are happily married
Well-behaved children
Traveling
Also, traveling buddies
Also, road trips
Fryingpans (who knew, right?)
And, obviously, the upcoming Rapture.  Yay!

Confessions

By the way, when I posted yesterday it wasn't just because a few people have gently reminded me that they'd like to hear from me every once in a while, but more because I've had it written on my to-do list to update this for quite some time, and I'm having a Get Everything Done weekend, and wanted to cross it off my to-do list.  So... that's done.  Whew.

Now on to my stack of letters I must needs write.  Yay!

Sigh

I have been reminded more than once recently that, uh, I have a blog.  Remember this thing?  I used to, you know, update it every once in a while.  But for the last few months (let's not focus on just how many, shall we?) I haven't written much.

I could spend time dwelling on this and making apologies, but I've decided I won't.

What I will say is that I just recently had the privilege of introducing Goodnight Moon to the boy I nanny.  The first read through he seemed to be bored, but soon I had him looking for the mouse in every picture, and going through the pictures again.  It was fun.  I don't even know the last time I met a child who hadn't somehow already heard that book.  I did cave to my OCD tendencies and point out to him that in the "goodnight mittens" page, the line features only mittens, which is silly, because in the full picture of the room, there are mittens AND socks on the line.  That always bugged me as a child.  Also, has anyone else noticed that it takes more than an hour for the rabbit to go to bed?  Because I feel like when I was a kid it didn't take an hour+ to go to bed.  Now that I'm older and I read the Bible and straighten up my room and such, it takes much longer, but even I don't need more than an hour to lie in my bed and say goodnight to everything in my room.  Not to mention the fact that him having mush by the side of his bed is just weird.  Was it his midnight snack?  Couldn't the old lady whispering hush (who is actually an old rabbit, let's be honest) have removed it before she left?  Because the mouse was sniffing it and that's just gross.

Uh, anyhow, whether or not you believe it, I do like the book.  I just have read it a bunch of times this week, so it's a bit fresh in the mind.

And that's where I leave off.  I really have to read more books not written for five-year-olds...

Note to self:

Dear self,

Remember that thing about habits?  How they're easy to get into, and even easier to get out of?  Maybe you should think of your poor neglected blog every once in a while.

That's all.

All things

I was enjoying a verse from Proverbs 28 this morning, that goes, "Evil men understand not judgment: but they that seek the Lord understand all things."  It's sort of a surprising verse to read, being that is says that they that seek the Lord will understand everything.

All things?  Seriously?  I don't know about you guys, but the ability to understand all things would come in mighty handy now and again.  I'm pretty sure that through our relationship with the Lord we understand what we need to for a fulfilled life in Him, but it's interesting to think that if we truly sought the Lord He would show us all things.

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth: and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.  Matthew 7:7, 8