Line upon Line

While my brother was away in Florida for the spring semester, he and I didn't communicate a lot.  Quite frankly, he's not much one for the whole "keeping in touch" thing, and I sort of shrugged and figured I'd see him when he came home.  Which I did.

But there were a few things I kept in contact about.  For instance, there was a switch-up with the traffic light a few blocks from our house, and I knew he'd like to know that it was on the four-way blinker system finally.  I told him that.  I mentioned that our favorite character came back to Adventures in Odyssey.  Well, maybe not a favorite, but it was a dark day in our house when Jason Whittaker was written off the show (worked for the NSA and randomly had to go into witness protection or something--it didn't make much sense unless they were just writing the guy completely out of the show), and then behold! Jason returned!

So I had to tell him.  Obviously.

The other thing I did take the time to tell him was that they painted lines on our road.  This might not seem like a big deal to anybody, including our neighbors (or, possibly, my mother, who said, "wait, those are new lines?") but we've never had lines before, and they don't make much sense.   

See, our street is long, and each block has its own set of rules.  On our block, you can park, but only on the right side of the street.  (I don't know my left and right very well, but I know that if you stand in one direction, it's the right side of the street, so I couldn't go wrong with that.  Ha!)  Further down, you can only park on the left side of the street.  In some places, you can't park on either side.  So, in order to accommodate all of this, they painted the lines accordingly.

You can't see that well, but if you squint, you can get the idea that looking down this road, there's more space on the left side of the line than the other (in order to give room for the sometimes-parked cars).  Way down, however, it switches to the line being in the middle of the road (because all the space will be for driving, as no parking is allowed), which looks weird.

Okay, here's a close-up view of the tragedy.  Those lines DO NOT match up.  I understand why, truly I do, because of the whole sometimes-no-parking thing, they have to move the lines accordingly, but there was a reason that we didn't used to have lines.  And that is because some of the people who live on our street and/or have to drive down it often (I'm sure it's more than just me.  Maybe.) get irked when it looks like a drunken man marched to and fro painting lines wherever he pleased.  I avoid driving down our road now, because I don't even like to look at it.  It's just weird.

And then of course, they decided to erase some of the lines.  On two blocks, and two blocks only, they painted/whatevered over the yellow lines, now making a not-so-attractive black swath in the middle of the street.  It's weird.

All this to say...  Whoever makes the line decisions in my city should clearly consult the residents of the street, because the residents would be able to instantly understand when things just won't, um, line up.  So to speak.

Crafting. Of sorts.

I love crafty ideas.  Scrapbookery, home DIYs, all that stuff.  But... I don't have/make time for a lot of things, so if I'm going to be crafty, there must be a purpose.  So when VBS came a while ago, and our theme was "Springtime in Paris," our colors were hot pink and black, and I was relegated to making some decorations, I decided that I would attempt a project I saw on Pinterest.

(Okay, I promise I'm not as obsessed as I've been sounding these last few days, but I only just now got around to posting for the first time in a long time, and a lot of what I had to catch up on had roots in Pinterest.  So...  cough.  This is awkward.)

Anyhow, what I saw a was a cute party decoration idea using Christmas lights and Dixie cups.  The lady took scrapbook paper and made some festive cups, and took some well-lit photos.

Personally, I don't take charming, well-lit photos.  Nor do I have time to cut out that much scrapbook paper.  Nor do I have a desire to cut out that much scrapbook paper.

So I thought about it, because I do so like lights, and figured I'd just spray paint the cups.  I mean, spray paint looks good too, right?

So I got some spray paint, and some Dixie cups, and set to work.  Turns out, Dixie cups aren't very heavy.  And spray paint is sort of forceful.  I would spray a cup and it would blow away.  Huh.  So I used a little brain power to come up with this solution.

I got some magnets (I LOVE magnets.  There is nothing I love half so well as finding a good use for a strong magnet.  The only time I wasn't a fan was several years ago when my brother took some of my strong magnets and brought them to the breakfast table, and held them underneath the wooden table to move my spoon.  I wasn't really okay with the whole "morning" thing at the time, so it took me a long time to get over being freaked out when my spoon just started sliding away from me as I stared at it helplessly.  It's funny now, but it was sort of unnerving that morning...) and put said magnets in a cup opposite a regular table knife, as shown.  The knife is wrapped in masking tape, because I didn't want to ruin the knife.  After all, it's my mom's knife, not mine.  So I just masking taped it up and viola, a metal thing to hold on to, that was nicely attracted to my magnets.

I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say it was a string of 100 lights, though I only put cups on every other bulb, per the suggestion of my family.  I did every other cup black or pink.  Anyhow, it didn't look super professional, but I never get super professional at VBS, so I didn't worry about that.  At all, in fact.

In other news, spray paint doesn't really look that awesome, after all.  I tried.

After VBS I inherited the string of lights, which I didn't know what to do with.  I strung it up in my room, because, after all, I had gone to all the effort of thinking of a clever use for magnets, but I needed something else to clutter my room about as much as I need reading lessons.  Which is to say, not really at all.

But I have them.  For now.  They actually provide quite a bit of light, and I enjoy plugging them in at night.

But... I can't imagine I'll keep them long.  Would anybody like some painted Dixie cups on a string of lights?  Up for grabs!  : )

Talk about multi-purpose!

Is anybody getting tired of me talking about how much I've been cleaning my house?

Sorry about that.  Allow me to continue anyhow.

So, I used the miracle tub cleaner, and was like "Pinterest is beautiful and works and I love it and everything on it must work!"  Well, not quite, but I was more open to trying the cleaning tips that random people posted.  So I saw one about cleaning stove grates.  Well, ours are awful.  We have a fantastic kitchen, but my mother's one regret has always been our gas stove and how it's impossible to clean.  So I saw this tip about cleaning stove grates and thought, yay!  Finally a solution.

So I carefully did what it said.  Put a grate in a zip lock bag with some ammonia.  I let it sit for a long time and and then got excited because the ammonia took on a dark color and so I was like, "it worked!"


It didn't.


I scrubbed off the grate, and some of the gunk came off, but not all.

I'd go through the whole story, of putting the grate back in the bag with fresh ammonia like four times and still not getting them clean, but it was a lot of times, and not that fun of a story.  It was irksome.

I even used my miracle tub spray, just in case.

That didn't work.

I left them in a pan on the counter, sprayed with stuff, just hoping that something would react with the spray and somehow miraculously clean them.  I truly did this.  It worked for Alexander Fleming, and we all know that penicillin is truly a miracle.  I actually announced that nobody was supposed to move them, just hoping that something would drop into the pan and magically clean them.  Turns out, you can't usually manufacture scientific miracles.  Botheration.

Finally my mother and I brainstormed and decided to use some oven cleaner.  We had some in the basement that we for some reason never use, so I figured that since a stove is basically just an oven that has the misfortune of not having an enclosure for a home, it would work the same, right?

Actually... yes!

It took some patience, due to the unfortunate build-up on the stove, but this stuff worked like a charm.  The stove grates sparkle, the stove itself sparkles, and all is clean and beautiful.  The only snag was that the bottle of oven cleaner stopped working right when half the stove was cleaned and it was sorrowful because I wanted to finish.  Why was only half the stove cleaned?  Because I was leaving some elements open so we could still cook.  Eating is an important use for stoves.  So anyhow, my dad and I took the stove cleaner outside to try to fix it, and ended up killing the bottle and spraying oven cleaner all over the grass.  Which, incidentally, died within twelve hours.

In other news, we have a new weed killer.  My dad warned against a certain patch of weeds because he'd just sprayed it.  He made a joke about using oven cleaner which I laughed at, but he was totally serious.  He went out to the store and bought oven cleaner because he wanted to kill some weeds and knew for a fact that oven cleaner was really fast-acting.

It worked.  So this was really two birds with one stone.  The stove is beautifully clean, and our weeds are dead.

So if you're looking for a way to clean your stove, and/or kill your weeds?  Feel free to use the above information liberally.

Pinterest win. Pwin?

As I mentioned last time, I cleaned the house a lot recently.  I've been told by more than one person that "When you get married and have your own house to clean it's different--it's way more satisfying."  Well, quite frankly, I enjoy cleaning our house.  I feel like having your own that you have to keep clean might feel like drudgery, so cleaning our house for my parents actually feels more like something I enjoy doing than something I have to do.  But either way, it's the only house I have to clean right now, so my experience is limited.

Anyhow, I'd seen something on Pinterest (I've mentioned this site before--it's a social networking-type site that I'm on that allows you to share photos/information/random stuff with your friends, as well as keeping things accessible for your viewing pleasure) about the cleaning of tubs.  I'll link to the website that explains how to do it rather than linking to a random pin.

The thing I saw said that if you mixed equal parts white vinegar and Dawn soap and sprayed it on your tub, it would basically clean itself.  So I figured, well, I don't actually enjoy cleaning tubs, and if I can somehow work it out where my tub cleans itself, I'm there.

Friends?  THIS WORKED.  (Which, of course, makes me sad that I didn't take photos of my own tub for the before and after, but I just couldn't be bothered.)  I mixed it together, I ended up warming it up in the microwave first, I don't remember why, and then I sprayed my tub, walked away for an hour to clean the kitchen cupboards, and came back to wipe the tub down and it was so ridiculously clean it was amazing.  Seriously.  I cannot gush enough about the miracle of this stuff.

Honestly, the next time somebody asks, "So, what sort of things do you like?" I will probably answer, "Oh, the usual.  Sunshine.  The Phantom Tollbooth.  The comfortable silence between friends.  Reuben sandwiches.  My miracle tub cleaner."


It's on the list.  It is that good.


So anyhow, it doesn't work for absolutely everything, I discovered, but for tubs, it is my go-to product.  If you dislike cleaning tubs (or even if you enjoy it--why waste your time doing it?  Honestly?) just trust me on this.  Vinegar+Dawn soap=best ever.


Now I feel like an infomercial.  


But I can't help it.


It's just that amazing.

Windows, cupboards... farming?

Allow me to take a break out of my regularly scheduled avoidance of this blog to play a little catch-up.  I got smart and wrote "update blog" on my to-do list again, so ta-da!  Here I am.

I've been busy.  After VBS it was gearing up for conference, and then conference, and a whole week of company, and then New York for the weekend.  Basically, just another snapshot of our crazy life.  : )

Farming Game with way too many people

Fun times were had by all.  I assume.  I know I, personally, had a nice time.  Hopefully our company did, too.  We had a cookout, and ran through our town fountains, and frolicked in the river, and went swimming, and played The Farming Game way too much.  All in all, a grand week.

What I'm actually writing to say has nothing to do with frolicking in rivers or pretending to be farmers.  Honestly, I wanted to focus on the "getting ready for company" part of the story.  I spent a week and a half cleaning the house like a maniac.  I cleaned all the cupboards in our kitchen inside and out.  Would you like to know how many drawers/cupboards are in our kitchen?  Fifty.  Exactly fifty.  I counted.  And I cleaned them inside and out.  Have you ever cleaned under your sink for the first time in a while?  Ew.  And, since I'm slightly insane, I wasn't content to clean out the cupboards and then put everything back; I had to clean all the spice containers and reorganize the cupboards.

Anyhow, the kitchen looks good.  There's that.

Also, I washed all the windows inside and out.  Would you like to know how many windows we have in our house?  That... I have no idea.  But I will tell you that when I was outside the living room windows, I couldn't get the ladder to fit under the awning, and the neighbors got a kick out of my struggles.  The Mr. Neighbor finally came over and asked if he could lend me a more suitable ladder.  I got it worked out eventually, much to their amusement.

I utilized Pinterest, too.  I'll get to that another time, when I don't have three niecews (I got tired of saying nieces and nephews) begging me to jump on the trampoline with them.  So... another time.  : )

Very Busy Season (or... VBS)

 

It's Vacation Bible School time around our place.  Which means, basically, that we run around for a week pulling our hair out, picking up more children than can possibly fit in our vehicles, and generally feeling like surely we'll be more organized next year.

We never are.

So don't expect me to update regularly like I was doing last week (three times!  possibly a new record!) because I'll be busy feeling guilty about breaking the law by having at least 10 more kids in my van than I have seat belts.  That sort of thing.

But it surely is good to be having VBS.  There's something energizing about all the kids, and the smell of paint, and hearing little voices learning Bible verses.  That sort of thing.  So (loss of hair aside), it's a good week around here.  A good week indeed.

For shame

I listen to the Christian radio a lot.  We have about four, actually, where I live, so if there's a boring conversation/song I don't prefer/lousy reception I just flip to another station and I'm set.  Rather handy.

It's especially handy when it's Share Week (every station calls it something different, but Share Week is the week when listener-supported radio stations ask for donations and hope you feel led/guilted into sharing of your bounty).  I'm going to be honest--I've never donated to a radio station.  Even though I listen to several, most of which are listener-supported (the one Christian station we have that isn't listener-supported is irksome to me because of the commercials.  Which, of course, is what the other ones avoid by being listener-supported), I just don't donate.  And I could say, "Oh, but I don't have a job!" but the truth is, even when I had a job I didn't donate.

So anyhow, obviously guilt keeps me from listening during such weeks (yes, your ministry has been an encouragement.  No, I apparently do not want to help fund you so you can encourage other people.), but sometimes I hear part of their programming anyhow, because I don't prefer the songs on the other ones so I come back, even though I feel guilty.

I should probably stop feeling guilty.  Guilt is a sort of sin.  Or something.  Anyhow, I hope my guilt has not caused you to stumble somehow.  Please ignore me if it has.

So, recently I was listening to part of a Share Week, and they read an email from a listener whose name was Jason.  Jason donated to their Share Week because he liked their radio station.  Jason, however, wasn't a Christian.  He didn't like it because of it's Christian-ness, but he did like what they were doing and wanted to support them.  They obviously asked for prayers that Jason would get saved, and that the programming would perhaps reach others like him.

(Picture this:  me, hearing this on the radio, basically crippled with guilt.  Scene set.)

Jason-who-is-not-saved donates and I don't?  There is something wrong with this picture.

Went to the Moody website and what did I see?  That I can still Share with them.  GUILT.

Down side, though, I still haven't donated to any of those stations.  Up side, I pray for Jason.  I like to think that he's accepted Christ as his Saviour by this point.  I think we would all agree that that would be the nicest happening.

Evolution. Pfft.

A few weeks ago I was picking up my newphew(ish) from school and I asked him what they'd learned that day.

"Oh, nothing really," he said.  His usual response.

Naturally, I always give him a hard time about learning nothing, so I badgered him for a little more information.

"Well," he mused after a minute, "they were talking about volcanoes.  That was cool, but they said that it was because of evolution.  Can you believe that, Auntie Jo?  Can you believe that my teacher believes in evolution?  The Bible even says it's not true!  And she thought it was real!"

Oh, childlike faith.  I hope he never loses that staunch faith in the Bible.  Not like I think he's at risk to, but as a child I tended to say "Bible says it?  Count me in!" but once people started asking for specific examples of something, I never knew what to say.  I remember giving someone a gospel tract when I was little.  Just sort of wandering by myself when we were at a historic village one day.  Anyhow, the person to whom I gave this tract asked me if I believed in the Bible.  Of COURSE I did!  I was probably eight or so, which was old enough to know that I believed in the Bible wholeheartedly, but as soon as this grownup started asking me about the flood, and about creation, and all sorts of specific things that he said weren't true, I had no idea what to say.

It was sort of traumatizing, actually.

To this day, I'm not sure why I was wandering by myself, nor do I know why that adult thought it was okay to start grilling me about my beliefs.  I guess I did give him a tract, so I sort of asked for it.  Details, details.

Anyhow, I smiled when I heard my nephew(ish) talk about the folly of evolution, because of course it's not true.  The Bible says otherwise!

Tru dat, my friend.  Tru dat.

My type of book

This is a photo from Guyana.  I'm sure you're jumping wildly about with excitement thinking, "Hot dog!  She's going to tell a story from that trip she took where she didn't tell us any stories?  She's finally thought of one?  And she's going to share it and show us that she loves her blog readers just as much/more than she loves her facebook friends, even though she usually dislikes facebook and loves Google, thereby we infer that she should love her (Google-powered) blog readers extra-much and eschew her facebook friends?  This is that time?"

Uh, no.  You should probably stop over-thinking things.  I still don't have Guyana stories.  And why would you use the expression "hot dog"?  That seems a little outdated.  Not like I'm judging you, I'm just pointing that out.

Now that it's established that this story doesn't actually relate to Guyana (except to say: this picture was taken in Guyana), allow me to continue.

This is a photograph of my brother and I, reading.  Is this unusual?  Indeed, it is not.  We tend to read all the time.  Stop light?  Time to read!  Family gathering gone long?  Book!  Airport?  Bound and printed is how I like my material, thanks.

So anyhow, we read.  The whole family, really.  My younger sister has a love/hate relationship with reading (I know, WHAT?  I just stop at the love/ and pretend that the slash is part of the word.  Oh me?  I have a loveslash relationship with reading.  You?) but recently I got her hooked on The Mysterious Benedict Society books, and she's nearly done with the four books (three plus the prequel) and she only started the series on Friday.  It makes me so proud.

Anyhow, the book she was reading in Guyana was some book published by Reader's Digest a while ago about the human body.  Seemed like a book I'd probably not rather read, though my brother and I both read books of my choosing while in Guyana, and they weren't exactly a laugh a minute.  I thought her book seemed sort of boring, she thought my books were boring.  Figure that.  You can't really see in the photo (see?  the picture actually has a purpose) but we're both reading books that you may not have perused yet.  Mine is called Just My Type, and his is called The Elegant Universe.

I have to go on record as saying that Just My Type was a quicker read than The Elegant Universe.  Just My Type was a book about fonts, and it was very well written.  The author went through the history of fonts ever since Gutenberg made them popular, and it even has a section on the interrobang.  My favorite ever.  The Elegant Universe is about the string theory, which I find quite interesting, however... it gets a little long.

Confession time.  I'm still not finished reading The Elegant Universe.  I got it out from the library around Easter time, but didn't have time to read it, so I returned it and got it out again before Guyana.  Seeing as my brother didn't think to bring a book (WHAT?) on the trip, I lent him mine, and I read my other book--the font book--and he read the string theory one.  He didn't finish it either.  But I still intend to finish it.  It really is a good book.  Honestly.  I actually laughed out loud in one part.

I'm such a nerd.

But anyhow, that's sort of my whole point in this story.  I sometimes weird myself out.  Here's the thing:  I (sadly) fall prey to reading Karen Kingsbury/Beverly Lewis/pick a Christian author and I've probably read a book by him/her thing.  But I've been trying to read more informative books and less pointlessness recently.  Not that I think there's something wrong with Christian fiction (I'm... not one of those people.  I understand that Philippians 4:8 says "whatsoever things are true," but I still read fiction, even in light of that), but sometimes I take stock of my life and think, "Hm.  I don't have a lot of education, but I do read.  So I should educate myself via words.  That much I can do."  So I read things like The Elegant Universe.

But I don't always like reading books like The Elegant Universe.  I get halfway through and think, "Brian.  Oh, Brian.  WHY ARE YOU ONLY NOW GETTING TO THE PART ABOUT STRING THEORY!?"  (May I just interject that this would be a perfect place for an interrobang?  Do you see why I miss it so much?  Seriously, I cannot believe that it didn't take!  It sorrows me!)  Because seriously, the author (Brian, in case you somehow missed that, and thought I fondly gave the actual book a name) spends the whole first half of the book discussing either the theory of general relativity or quantum mechanics.  I understand why he had to lay so much groundwork, but after a while it got to the point where I just wished he'd, well, get to the point.  So anyhow, when I'm halfway through such books, and furrowing my brow and making solemn promises to myself that no child of mine will ever have the name Brian I think what am I doing?

And then I get all guilty.  Am I reading nerdy books because I actually am tired of Karen Kingsbury and cohorts?  Or do I just like to read smart books because it's a nifty conversation starter?  Or do I just really like to learn things?  Am I being pretentious?  Does Brian Greene really have to go into so much detail?

Sorry.  That last question clearly isn't in relation to most books.

I just have to evaluate my motives every once in a while.  I've pretty much decided that I actually want to read the books, and I'm not just being pretentious.  Because I've tried having conversations about nerdy things, and it never works, and then I just feel awkward.  Actually, I take that back.  I have a cousin who actually understands the string theory.  I was talking to him about it, and I was like, "Sweet!  Give me the condensed version!  It'll save me from finishing the book I started!"  And... as it turns out, he doesn't have a condensed version.  It was rather lengthy, and just as we got to the actual string theory part (which is to say, he laid the groundwork, the part I've actually gotten through in the book I'm reading)... our conversation got cut off.

And he lives many hours away from me.

So now I have to finish my book.

Ugh.

Thing is, technically I could just read the wikipedia article about it and call it a day.  But... I'm obsessive.  I can't not finish a book I've started.  Actually, I've actually been able to not finish books in recent years, which I count as being a very grown-up thing to do, but it sort of hurts me.  And at this point I think I'll probably go crazy if I don't finish this book.  I've been working hard on it.

How did I start this topic?  Oh yes.  I saw the book on my dresser (conveniently under my stack of Bible, Kindle, and journal) and furrowed my eyebrows at it.  And figured that I would talk about it (a lot) in my blog, and maybe that would count as reading a few pages or something.

Doesn't usually work that way.  Sorrow.

In other news, I must disclaimer this message.  Thing is, these books are interesting.  I have learned a lot thus far in The Elegant Universe, and I learned a lot while reading Just My Type (the author is from England, so he talks a lot about the fonts they use on signs around London and stuff, and he would have photos of said signs in the book, and I would feel well-traveled because I'd seen those very signs.  Even though every person who's been to London or traveled even a few miles on the M1 has seen those signs, which technically makes it way less cool that I've seen them.  Though let's be honest.  It was cool that I'd seen those signs), but I must admit that neither author is a Christian.  The science book teaches evolution like it's a fact.  Scientists.  Pfft.  The font book casually references typographers traveling about with girlfriends.  Sinners.  Pfft.

Problems I didn't have with Karen Kingsbury, bless her heart.  (And I'm really not trying to pick on her.  She's just well known, thereby an easy reference point.)

Maybe the moral of the story is that I should finally buckle down and read Darby's synopsis.  My mother had read it by the time she was my age.  Virtuous woman.

Food for thought.

Suddenly I realize that I didn't have a point with this rather lengthy post.  So I'll make a point.

.

Haha, get it?  Periods are points.

I... need more sleep.

It's about time

I've sort of been procrastinating recently about getting caught up here.  Not because I don't want to talk about Guyana and how wonderful it was, but because I've pretty much explained how wonderful it was to pretty much everyone I know.  It's one of those things where after a while you dread hearing, "How was it?"  I just picked random stories and would tell like one story to each person who asked, so people now know random little things about it.

Also, not only did I spend a lot of time telling everyone about it, but I also spent a long time captioning my facebook album so as to cut down on the explanations.  So I wasted all of my residual Must-Tell-Everything! feelings on facebook.

Crazy social networking.  (PS, I apologize to everyone I ever scoffed at for being addicted to Pinterest.  You were right.  It's addicting and awesome.)

Anyhow, so what happens to my blog readers?  Basically you got the raw end of the deal.  I'm not going to copiously go into details of everything.  I'll say some things (still thinking of what stories I'm not tired of telling, give me a minute) and show you some pictures and then move on to my regularly scheduled rambles (well, as regularly scheduled as I know how to be).

So, we'll start with a family photo of, well, our family.  We're standing on a savanna.  Randomly.  In Guyana.  So... yeah.

Next is a photo of me standing in front of St. George's Cathedral.  It's a really tall wooden building.  The only of it's kind, which being interpreted is to say, the tallest wooden freestanding structure.  I'm not really sure what the significance of that is, but anyhow, it's white and wooden.  That much I could see with my own two eyes. 

 Finally, some palm trees.  We were technically (I think?) in the jungle or something, so there were a lot of palm trees.  Also, coconuts.  Also, pineapples.  The pineapples (they call them "pines," though why they can't say the apple, I'm not sure) were literally the best I've ever had.  We cry when we see pineapples in the States now, because they just aren't as good.  Sob.

So you know how I said I was going to think of a story to tell?  Still nothing.  If anybody is interested in my facebook album (complete with rather lengthy captions) please let me know, and I can send it to you.  If we're not already friends on facebook.  Otherwise... I'll think of something more inspiring to say next time I deign to update this blog.  Sigh.

So many countries, so little time

I haven't posted in a while, but it's because I've been busy.  Besides the usual things of life, we are also preparing for a trip to Guyana.  We're going next week, staying for almost a week.  Our whole house has been consumed with Guyana-related stuff.  When I go to our weather homepage, Guyana is on top, because apparently we search the weather down there more than the weather where we actually live.  But things are coming together, the Pepto-Bismol is purchased (not by me.  I don't believe in the stuff.), the mental preparations for their rainy season (which is to say, rain rain and more rain) slash regular weather (which is to say, 95-100% humidity) is sorted, and we all picked shoes we don't mind wearing in the rain and/or using for a lot of walking.  Everyone worried about this, but I fetched my trusty Nike flip-flops.  People, I am ready to go!

Anyhow, do pray for us, if you like.  We plan to sort of... missionary about, I suppose.  Meet the locals, hand out candy/gospel tracts.  That sort of thing.  We shall see what comes of it.  No matter, I trust the Lord uses this trip for blessing.  For those we meet, as well as us.  This is, incidentally, our family vacation for the year, so I'm sure much happy bonding will ensue.  Good times.

Also, this is my first official Third World country.  That's kind of cool.  When I went to Romania the first them I was sitting at the breakfast table at the house where I was staying and the man of the house leaned back and said, "So, how does it feel to be in a third-world country?"  I had no idea what to say, because Romania's not actually a third world country (these days it's based on the average annual income, if I have my story straight, and there is discussion as to whether or not there is such a thing as a second-world country.  If there is such a thing, Romania is that.  And not to get too wordy in this parenthetical phrase, but going by that classification, technically we have fourth world countries these days.  My sister informed me the other day that Malawi is such a country).  So anyhow, Guyana is the winner of this round of travel in terms of new experiences (sorry, Romania.  You're not poor enough).  Kudos, Guyana.  I look forward to many happy times on your fair coasts!

And when I say fair coasts I really mean it.  Apparently it's a beautiful country.  Maybe tourists would actually go there, were it not for the rampant pick pocketing, malaria, and yellow fever.  I guess every silver cloud has to have some dark lining.  Or, um, something... Cough.  Anyhow, Guyana will be beautiful, I'm sure.

I'll let you know when I come back.  Lord willing.  : )

Some days I can't read.

I was reading an article about Microsoft and Barnes and Noble and their partnership, and for some reason, when I read about the "MS-powered tablet," I thought, "Now why are they suddenly talking about Multiple Sclerosis medication?"

And no, I can't find the article I was reading.  I just put a link for one from Fast Company, since I follow them on Pulse and knew right where to find an article about it.

And this, my friends, is why I shouldn't be allowed to stay up late.  Because when I do, I apparently confuse Microsoft with a terrible disease.

In which I sum up the entirety of my feelings regarding driving

I want the control, but not the responsibility.  The speed, but not the ticket.

Finally, a solution

I have a very sweet younger sister.  Everyone in my family (also, pretty much anyone in my whole life) knows that I don't know my left from my right.  So my dear younger sister decided she'd help solve the problem by giving me... socks.

Isn't that brilliant?  Now (as long as I put them on the correct foot) I can always just kick up a heel a read the bottom of my foot and viola! I know which foot is which.

And yes, I've included two photos, even though they're pretty much identical, because do you have any idea how hard it is to take a photograph of the bottom of your feet?  It's hard.  I'd say you should try it, only (as I said) it's hard, and unless you have a reason to take such a photo, it's probably not worth it.  So anyhow, behold, another picture of the bottom of my feet.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother

I read a super interesting book recently.  Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua, to be precise.  I read it at the urging of my sister.  Well, more specifically, because my Chasm's Lady sister told me that my other Until-Recently In Denial About Reading My Blog sister liked it a lot, and it "revolutionized her life."  So I read it, and really liked it, but must admit, it didn't change my life.
Then again, I don't have kids, so...

The general idea of the book is as follows: a Chinese immigrant marries a Jewish guy and they have two girls--Sophia and Lulu.  She wants to raise them in the traditional Chinese manner (which is to say, all work and no play makes Sophia and Lulu very smart and focused children), and thinks the kids will be happy all working and no playing.  They learn musical instruments and how to do math and excel at every school subject.  These girls were set up to be the next Chopin/Supreme Court Justice.  Whatever they wanted.

Only...  the girls were less than enthusiastic about the fanatical practice sessions.  Less than warmed when their mother out-and-out rejected poorly made birthday cards and called the girls "garbage."  Not so thrilled that they couldn't have sleepovers, or go on vacation without their musical instruments in tow.  Even irked that they were taken out of school all the time so they could get "real work" (read, more musical practice) done.

Eventually Lulu, the younger daughter, figured out that her mother could be broken.  So, she broke her.  After enough times of refusing to practice her violin, and then even more times of refusing to practice her violin, her mother, Amy, let it stop.

And that, basically, was the end of the book.

That review sounded less than glowing, but, as I said earlier, I really liked the book.  It was well written, thoughtful, and easy to identify with (well, inasmuch as I know how to identify with either the parents or children in this situation).  Amy Chau was candid, and you could tell (she mentioned in the follow-up portion of the book, in fact) that her daughters had a say in what went in the book and what stayed out.  Not like I know what's not in the book, obviously, because, well, I'm not Amy's friend, and she didn't tell me.  I have no idea.

Besides all that thought-provoking stuff, the book was downright, genuinely amusing.  Between the discussions of why they had a dog--and then got another one--you'd find a paragraph containing a rant about school.  "...there's nothing I hate more than all these festivals and projects that private schools specialize in.  Instead of making kids study from books, private schools are constantly trying to make learning fun by having parents do all the work."

For some reason, I find that very amusing.  I was reading this book on a bus, by the way, and got some strange looks because I would inadvertently allow a laugh to audibly escape every once in a while.

The book came under a lot of criticism.  Which I partly understand.  I mean, calling your children garbage?  But on the other hand, I'm pretty sure that most of the people who hate it passionately (and the people who sent the author death threats and such--which actually happened) maybe didn't actually finish the book.  It's divided into three sections.  The first section: background story and stuff that went on when the girls were young and everyone got along well.  Section two:  when everything went horribly, terribly wrong and Amy realized that Chinese parenting maybe didn't work so well after all.  Section three:  Amy explaining why she wrote the book, and how the household dynamic changed now that there wasn't quite the same level of tyranny, as it were.  So yes, I cringed several times as I read it, but I also was impressed at the willingness of the author to bluntly share her faults and walk us all through what worked and what decidedly didn't.

I'm glad I read it.  It's true, I don't have children, but it was an interesting read if only for the things I learned about Chinese culture.  It was valuable for the things I learned about parenting (not just Chinese parenting, but general parenting) and, quite frankly, I found it an interesting study in human nature in general.

And now, in my opinion, the author owes us another book.  A book about her poor husband, Jed, who got basically no say in the parenting.  There needs to be an ode to Jed.  I feel sorry for that man.  But that's not the subject.

Anyhow, if, like me, you've ever read the articles about the book (first I heard about it was from Time magazine--both girls say, by the way, that as far as they know, they're going to turn out fine), or had it recommended (possibly even by my sister, haha), you should read it.  And then we can all discuss it.  I'd very much like to hear what other people have to say about it!

Eutychus Catchers

I've decided, by the way, that life would be a lot more interesting if screens on windows were now just called "Eutychus Catchers."  I think there's really a slogan opportunity in there.  Perhaps one of the big companies can use the idea for a nifty slogan?  Pella Windows, undoubtedly, would appreciate the suggestion.  I mean, think of how much more fun it sounds!

I, for one, am going to train myself to put on the Eutychus Catchers in the spring, and take then off in the fall whence cometh time for storm windows.  I keep my Eutychus Catcher in my closet in the winter, so it's easily found come spring.

I just like to say Eutychus Catcher, really.  A tad longer than "screen," but entirely worth it, I'd say.

Things I Ought to Know

I decided the other day that instead of a bucket list, perhaps I should have a list of things I should know.  I mean, we should all know a great deal of things (I'm taking this wildly out of context, but as we all remember from Hosea 4:6, knowledge is kind of important.  Never reject it.  The verse obviously isn't talking about cumulonimbus clouds or anything, but I'm simply making the point that knowledge=important), plus, learn something new every day (my father would be so proud), but I feel like maybe I should have a list of things I should know/do/have.  And since I really do love lists quite a bit, I thought I'd turn my hypothetical musing into an actual list of things in no particular order.  I'm sure this isn't complete, but it's just sort of stuff that comes to mind.

Knitting.  I feel like every virtuous girl should be able to knit.  I... cannot.  Yet.  My friend Joy knows how, so maybe whenever I get around to visiting her, we can have a little session wherein she teaches me and I attempt to learn.

Have a cool vocabulary word.  My mom just found solidus the other day, which is basically a cooler/more intelligent-sounding word for, well, slash.  Good call, Muth.  I like to have a word and use it often enough so that I might never forget it.  Then I move on to a new one.  I tought everyone insouciant a while ago, just because I found it and it's swell.  I like to use words other than "like" and "um," though they do have their place.  Places.  Oh, and recently I was bringing back forsooth, and it sort of worked.  I have friends who use forsooth now.  I love it.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.  I was determined to know what it meant, because I always get it confused with the Higgs Boson thing, and after a long time of seeing stuff about the God Particle in the news, I decided to set it to rights in my head which was which.  So far, I never remember what the Higgs Boson thing is all about, but when I remember, I review the Uncertainty Principle in my head, just for kicks.  "It's impossible to simultaneously find the position and velocity of a subatomic particle.  It's impossible to simultaneously find the position and velocity of a subatomic particle."  I don't even know if that's 100% correct, but I had to break it down into layman's terms so I could even figure out what the principle was about.  No wonder they're so uncertain.

Have a favorite verse.  I read a book recently where the girl claimed the "In all things we are more than conquerors" verse and would quote it about every other page.  Personally, I'm still working on finding one.  I have different verses for different occasions.  For instance, I have a whole selection of verses for morning times.  I have Rejoice Evermore on my wall by the postcards I collect from my cool vacations, so as to remind me that ever situation and place is rejoiceable.  I (mis)quote the second half of Matthew 26:41 when I work out.  I remind myself of the first part of 2 Cor. 12:15 when I'm doing someone else's work for them and I know I should have a better attitude about it.  I I have other verses for other occasions, but I won't expand tediously on this point.  This point being that no, I don't have an all-time favorite verse.  Yet.  Perhaps I never shall.  I just sort of have a bunch I use at different times.  But I feel like I should have One Really Special Verse For All Occasions.  We shall see.

Know something cool about science.  My dad knows a lot of stuff about stars and... other sky-related things.  He has made it a habit to utilize the tools we have available to us in this modern age and learn.  That's cool.  I decided a while ago to re-learn stuff about clouds.  When I was in sixth grade or thereabouts, I had to know the difference between the cirrus and cumulus and all those types of clouds.  I'm ashamed to say that I can't remember them any more.  So I have resolved to learn something really cool (what?  clouds are cool!) and retain it in my feeble memory.

Figure out the Bible chronologically speaking.  I'm not going to lie.  For as many times as I've read through those Old Testament books, I still get hung up on which prophet was around when which king was reigning, and when those Persians came into play, and who was doing what.  It's hard to get it straight.  So I've been working on having a better grasp of what comes when.

Hepygroga.  I had a teacher in school who used to refer to geography as "hepygroga," which is an anagram of geography.  Anyhow, his point was that when you don't know where things belong, it's much more difficult to sort things out in your head.  Much like a proper chronology of the Bible is bound to help me when I read the Bible, a proper idea of geography will help me as I hear/read/observe the world around me.  Honestly, I'm terrible at geography.  The other day we were discussing In Search of the Source (great book) and whether or not the book is set in Papua New Guinea, and I couldn't even remember where that was.  So yeah, I've got work to do.  Sometimes I go to Google Maps (or Google Earth, whichever), and just sort of scroll around the world, seeking where I might learn more.  There are a lot of countries.  Goodness.

Have better handwriting.  At the urging my sister, who gently (coughcoughornotsogentlycoughcough) told me that my handwriting isn't even at an 8th grade level, I started working on handwriting with my younger sister.  We practice for about a half hour a day.  It'll probably still be an 8th grade level (I am what I am, alas), but you know what?  I'm working on it.  I am trying.

When to speak up and when to shut up.  This one speaks for itself.

Know what a gerund is.  My mom does.  She knows all those things about participles and parenthetical clauses.  I think that's genius.  To me, a gerund is confusing.  How can it do so much stuff?  I mean, "ing"ing stuff is a good enough job description, so why overachieve and perform as a subject, object, or whatever else it does?

Imaginary numbers.  I am sorry to admit, that I was rather... questionable at math.  And then I got to the part about imaginary numbers, and I thought, "They're just MAKING THIS UP????????" and I stopped paying attention.  One day I should really go back and figure out what an imaginary number is.  Honestly, I couldn't even begin to tell you.  That's so shameful.

ROY G. BIV.  Because everyone should have a tried-and-true way to remember the rainbow colors.  I also use a little acrostic (That He Just Peter Loves Grapes... virtue, praise) to help me remember Philippians 4:8.  And I still sing the Books of the Bible song in my head to help me remember where to find Ezra and Nehemiah.  I find it not at all shameful to get a little help from time to time.

Learn the rules to a game.  I one time Do Hard Things by the Harris Twins, and they said to do things outside of your comfort zone, and especially do more than just the things that come naturally to you.  So, while I don't think it's at all important in the slightest to learn the rules to football or baseball or another sports-type game that I have zero interest in whatsoever, I figure that next time somebody tries to explain such rules to me, I'll pay attention and thank them for their time.

Know when it's appropriate to follow a recipe--or not.  I've gone over this before, but but I find it easier to not follow recipes.  I'm doing my best to actually follow recipes in earnest.  It's not very fun.  I feel sorry for methodical people.

Anyhow, I could think of more things to list about, but then next time any of you ask me about it ("What kind of cloud is that?  Oh, you don't know?  What happened to that list?") I'd rather have fewer items to feel obliged to learn.  So I shall end it with this paragraph upon which you are gazing now.  This is truly the end of this post.  Now I go forth and learn, my friends!

Traveling dreams...

Do you ever just think it would be awesome to officially have a bohemian (wanderer?  adventurer?  vagabond?  sign me up) lifestyle and just travel hither and yon?  Honestly, that's basically what I do already (I mean, I DO travel kind of a lot, let's be honest), but sometimes I see signs like this and think, "Shanghai?  I've never been there!  I must go!"

Which only reminds me, of course, that there are places I could be going to help people instead of for my own enjoyment.  And people at home who need help.  And all kinds of things I could be doing in between that wouldn't cost so much money.

An ode to dyslexia

When I was at Navy Pier we saw this statue.  Which I think is pretty cool, but we basically decided was a statue about what dyslexia feels like.  I can't claim to actually have dyslexia myself (though sometimes you'd think it, what with all the mixed-up talking and the left/right issues I have, as I've said before, haha), but I like to think about words in different ways.  Why write letters in a row?  Why not stack them all up in colorful statue?  Exactly.  Sometimes art is awesome.  The end.



Navy Pier

A photograph of parts of Navy Pier from on high.

Two weeks ago I went to Chicago to hang out with my best friend.  A nice girl who used to keep a blog, and then one day stopped.  We forgive her.  Anyhow, all of the kids were on spring break, so her mom took a day off and we all went to Navy Pier.  I'd never been before.  

They live in a suburb, so it took a while to get there, and we passed a bunch of stuff in the city, like the Sears Tower, which, of course, isn't even named that any more (it's now the Willis Tower tower, but obviously that's somewhat akin to Big Ben being called Big Ben, even though Big Ben is just the clock, not the tower), and a really cool library downtown Chicago.  I was in the car when we passed it, so this picture is kind of lousy, but you can see here that the building is sort of awesome.  I'd get books at this library at any time.

The old-timey library building.

At the pier we mostly just meandered about, looking around stores and such.  Also, we went on a Ferris Wheel, which was exciting to me, because I thought it was my first time ever on a Ferris Wheel, but everyone I've mentioned that to says, "Uh, what about the London Eye?"  So, apparently The London Eye counts as a Ferris Wheel, which means this makes twice.  Picky picky. 

The view from the Ferris Wheel.

This is what happens when her two brothers decide they need a picture with her.  Hilarity.

I look a little tired.  But hey, you can see a corner of Chicago in the corner, at any rate.

Then we ate at this delicious restaurant called Bubba Gump's.  It was delicious.  It's apparently based off of that Forrest Gump movie, and the waiters came and did movie trivia with us about five times while we were eating, because they of course assumed that if we were eating there, we must have seen the movie before. Enforces the idea that it would be a boring movie, haha, but anyhow, they were gracious to me, although I knew not of what they spoke.

All the waiting for the food, however, was SO WORTH IT, because when the food came it was basically the best ever.  This is a picture, and honestly, if you ever go there, you should get the stuffed shrimp.  Because it was SO good.  It's been two weeks and I still dream of that food.  Seriously.

Best.  Seafood.  Ever.

Anyhow, it was windy and a little cold, but we all had fun.  We went home afterwards and slept.  Or read.  Personally, I read Sea Legs, and laughed the afternoon away.  Honestly, that book is hilarious.  Two motherless boys stow away on the cruise ship their father works on and save the day.  All turns out well in the end, and the British humor has me laughing and crying all at the same time.

That was a tangent.

Anyhow.  Navy Pier.  Good stuff.

Things that terrify me

1)  When a tree has a blight and the leaves have those terrible bumps.  I literally can't stand to look at that.  It makes me want to just... run away or something.  Honestly, it's terrifying.

2)  When you realize that a situation is dangerous.  You know the one.  An angry car is tailing you, and the driver might just ram you off the road.  For their own personal enjoyment.  At the expense of your life.

3)  Change.  There is nothing quite like realizing that everything is out of your control, and only the Lord knows what is happening.  I know it's reassuring to know that HE knows, but the fact that I don't know terrifies me.

4)  Being outside of the Lord's will.  Because sometimes I do things that seem to make sense at the time, and then I realize that I'm just making it up as I go along.

5)  This point removed.  Just because.

6)  That moment when your heart stops because you think you heard some terrible news but actually you just have a hearing problem and everything is fine.  I like the everything-is-fine part, but the wait-WHAT? moment freaks me out.

7)  Myself.  I'm happy that the old man is dead and all that, but I'm still firmly attached to my flesh.  Sort of wish I weren't.  I hate that I'm capable of so much sin.  I'm not trying to be dramatic, but seriously, the flesh ruins a lot of stuff.  Stupid free will...

8)  The realization that I've made no significant headway in life.  And after 2+ decades I probably know less about what I want to do with my life than when I had just a few years of life under my belt.  When I was young, it all made sense.  Then I grew up and realized that my plans mean nothing whatsoever.

All in all, it's a good thing that God hasn't given me a spirit of fear.  Also, that He's given me a sound mind.  Otherwise, I would let all this stuff get to my head.  Especially that leaf thing.  Seriously...

Happiest of Easters to you!

Okay, so the official flower of Easter is an Easter Lily (huh.  wonder how that happened.) but who doesn't like daffodils?  That's what I thought.  Of course, that's not what Easter is about.  As my mom and I echo to one another at Easter time, "The Lord is risen!"

"The Lord is risen indeed."

Amen!

Adventures in

Pathfinder

I love Chinese Checkers.  Seriously, best game ever (besides The Next Tetris.  Or other fun games).  Our family played the other night.  There are only four of us at current, alas, but we still manage to find enough pieces to jump over!

I think it's important to note that in each one of the photos there is a book showing.  It's the Klutz Book of Inventions, which I had from the library.  Which is a HILARIOUS book!  Book reading is an important part of game time at our house.  I mean, besides the Klutz book (which everyone was fighting over, haha), we had The Chronicles of Harris Burdick, On Fortune's Wheel, and two Muse magazines.  Three books and two magazines for four people?  Not bad.

I don't even remember who won.  My dad, perhaps?  Either way, it was fun, and our family felt well bonded by the end of the evening.  Also, well read.

Of buckets and lists

I don't really have a bucket list. Mind you, when one of my friends from LA was last at my house, and we stayed up until about 3:00 am simply because we didn't want the fun to end, we sort of came up with a bucket list. It went along the lines of, "And then we're going to go see Disney on Ice, and then HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA we're going to learn to skate it and pretend that we can actually skate and  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I don't even know!!!! It'll be hilarious!!!!!!" and then basically we made up a bunch of stuff about doing shows on ice because we are both not the best of ice skaters. I think that's why we were talking about it, anyhow. Honestly, I don't even remember.  Anything that happens after about 11:00 pm isn't exactly going to stick too well in my head.

But I do sort of have things in mind that I'd kind of be super excited about, should they ever for some reason come to pass. Isn't that what Bucket Lists are all about? Stuff you've always wanted to do? My actual bucket list, were I to make one, would be fairly simple.  Besides learning to knit (how have I still never learned to knit? I learned how to crochet, and knitting seemed way harder, so I didn't even try. One day I shall), and having a passport with stamps on every page (how AWESOME would that be?) I'd also like to *dun dun dun* ride in a blimp.

I've taken a lot of forms of transportation--bus, train, plane, subway, water taxi, etc.--but they've all been kind of regular-type. I want to ride in a blimp. I've heard it's kind of boring, but hey, I'm a boring person. And that's okay. But seriously, even more than a hot air balloon (also never been up in one), I would choose a blimp. So if I ever get cancer or something, and they confuse me for a child and let me do the Make-a-Wish thing, now you all know what I'd wish for. A blimp ride. Just because it sounds pretty swell.



Oh, and that blue house contains those neighbors you're supposed to be praying for.



I got to thinking about this the other night when a blimp flew over our house. We get a lot of blimps--hullo, Goodyear--but not usually directly over our back porch. We were sitting at supper and it approached and we were like hey hey, a blimp. And then it flew right over us, and we acted like tourists who'd never seen blimps before, instead of a family who has had blimps flying by for years. So I snapped a few photos and I'm sorry to say that there's no way to capture the size of the things. I mean seriously, blimps are gianty creatures. In the photos they look small here, but trust me, they are big.



It was getting a bit dark, so it's not the best picture ever.  Also, it's so large that when it flies over your head you don't really have a lot of options as far as swell photo-taking goes.



Anyhow, if any of you know someone who can hook me up with a ride in a blimp, please let me know. Thanks. : )

PS, I'm not discontent with such things as I don't have, but I just sometimes like to potentially dream about adventures I may or may not have down the road.  But please, don't think I'm being snobbish or something, just because I think a blimp would be a cool way to travel.

I've flown the coupe, or some other lame title

Sometimes I'm kind of a nerd.  I don't just mean that I like to safely eject my flash drive from the computer, or that I love making lists about any and everything, or my blind devotion to Google, but sometimes I like car-related things.  I don't think that's the correct definition of nerd, but it's one of those things where I don't remember what people who taking a passing interest in cars are called.

So anyhow, for reasons unknown, I've always really liked Nissan.  One year my brother gave me a birthday card with a picture of the 350Z because he knew how well I liked Nissan (haha, shows you how long ago that was!  They don't even make the 350Z any longer!)  Still have that card.  So anyhow, imagine my surprise when I saw the Altima Coupe and hardly even recognized the thing!  I was at my sister's and we were driving to, well, somewhere, I don't even recall where, and suddenly I saw a two-door Altima and was just confused.  I sort of blurted something unintelligible about what the Altima was doing with only two doors? and everybody potentially thought I was insane.  Not like I blame them.  But anyhow, isn't it pretty?  I think so.

I just want to specify that I really know nothing about cars.  I just happened to see another Altima Coupe and remember afresh my shame at not having noticed this in the past four years since it came out.  How had I never seen one before?  What is wrong with me?

In other news, I was at a stoplight last week sitting behind the VW Eos, and... I sort of loved the tail lights.  Seriously, it's like the car had personality.  Loved.

Anyhow, I'm done talking about cars for like... a year.  Possibly two.  Thank you for your kind attention as I got all of this said.  Although, come to think of it, I do have quite a bit I could say about pickup trucks.  My dad has always said that he could see me driving a pickup, and while I agree, I rarely agree with his choices of pickups.  Anyhow, I don't even remember why I started talking about cars.  Oh, yeah.  Altima.  Two doors.  Shame.

I'm actually done this time.