In which I meet the kid who is the anti-me

100s day at school was a real revelation

We celebrated 100s day at the daycare recently (which I don't understand.  Being homeschooled apparently left some pretty big gaps in my education.  Why is being 100 days into the school year a big deal?) and we questioned all the older kids about things that had to do with 100.  Some of the answers ended up being hilarious, some rather dull, and some made me question what they teach kids in school these days.

Like this kid, above, who is a dear soul, but upon gazing on his answers I realized that we were very different one from another.  (Well, I probably want to be the boss at my house when I'm 100, but, you know, the other stuff.)

Why we're so different: my corner of the attic has about a million books (or at least, way more than 100), and then day I have 100 cats will be a sad day (haha, or indicate that I am the most single human in the history of humans), and the day I choose to spend $100 buying a dog will be the day any one of you has permission to check me into a home for mentally disturbed individuals.

But that's okay.  It takes all kinds to make the world go round.  I just must confess, this child's polar opposite version of me cracked me up.

Forgiveness

I was in a Christian bookstore recently and noticed that there were a lot of books about forgiveness.  A lot.  Like, a stunning number.  To prove my point I just went to Christianbook.com and searched the keyword "forgiveness."  On my desktop it came up with a staggering 2,264 results, while on my mobile device it came up with but 2,113 results.  (A screenshot for your benefit.  Also, why did I get two different numbers for the mobile/desktop searches?  I don't understand anything.)

Then I searched for other things on CBD like joy and peace and came up with multiple thousands, but words like kindness only got 600+ hits, and it seems like if more books were on kindness, less books would have to be about forgiveness, you feel me?

(Now, I'm not saying that this is indicative of the human problem, this whole rash of books on forgiveness.  Because you know what else you can find by the thousand at Christian bookstores?  Books about Amish people.  And I don't think that really means anything except that old ladies are the biggest consumer of fiction.)

But I didn't buy any of those billions of books on forgiveness.  Why?  (Well, I'm poor, probably.)  Because the most beautiful thing I've read recently about forgiveness is contained in this blog post, which was written by a remarkable young lady I know who faced so much and yet forgave anyhow.  I don't need those billions of books (okay, 2,113 books) to tell me the ins and outs of forgiveness.  I see it in this young lady, every time I see her, because grace truly characterizes her.  Because I see the fruits of the spirit in her and it's an example to me.  Because she is an example to all believers, and I'm so thankful to have the chance to see that in her.

If you get a minute, check out her story.  It's worth the read.

Take with you words

The other day at dinner/Bible reading (yes, supper still lasts for like four hours at my house.  Okay, well, that's a slight exaggeration--it's more like two hours) we were reading Hosea 14.  We got as far as verse 2 before we digressed wildly (as we are often wont to do).

"'Take with you words, and return to the Lord'--hey, Joanne, this should be your verse!"

That was my dad, who in the split second it took to read the first eight words of the verse decided that when I write a memoir (because, you know, why not), I should call it "Take With You Words."

Honestly, it sounds like a good idea to me.  Not that I'm planning on writing a memoir any time soon (or ever), but if I do, at least I have a title.

It's a start.

(PS, not to toot my own horn or anything but I'll be honest--I've read memoirs before and thought that even within my limited 25 years of life I've probably acquired enough stories to write a more interesting memoir than some of them that are out there.  And for whatever stories I don't have, I could totally just write random things I thought about.  I could do this thing, people.  I'm not going to, but I could!)

(PPS, NO PICTURE TODAY.  I'm such a little rebel.)

Worth it

Some days my responsibilities leave me tired.  I remember earlier this year when a friend was helping me do Sunday School stuff she remarked, "How do you do it?  These kids wear me out!"

I feel you.

Some Sundays I just feel spent.  It is ridiculous, of course, because it's only a couple of hours a couple of times a weekend, but the constant chaos has a way of wearing you down.  Like a rock in a creek.  No matter how innocuous the creek seems, eventually that rock is going to be worn down whether or not it wants to be.

Like tonight, driving the kids home from gospel.  Definitely had to pull over and do the, "Whomsoever does not sit down and stop fighting won't come or get cookies ever again."  It works for a few blocks, anyhow.

But.

But.

Let me tell you a story that starts a while ago.  A story that begins on a different thread, but leads back to the subject at hand.

Earlier this summer I started a book called Get Lost.  I started it and realized that it was going to be good, good enough, in fact, for me to *gasp* buy an actual copy for myself, instead of just using the library version I had.  (I don't prefer to use money for... anything.  I avoid purchasing things unless it's ABSOLUTELY NEEDED.  So to think that I should buy something is a Big Deal in my life.)  So I bought myself a copy and... then put the book on hold for a while.  But earlier this month I picked it up and devoured the book (in the literary fashion, not the rumble in my tummy fashion).  It's rather good.  Note to self: if I have daughters, I'm pretty much getting them copies.  (Unfortunately, the tagline is about finding true love.  The author did that to be clever, because she urges you to find true love in Christ, but it's awkwardly misleading when discussing it with others, because I'm not on a quest to find true love, but I would like to read more about deepening my relationship with the Lord.)

Anyhow, it was so good that I bought a copy for a friend who I thought might appreciate it.  Three days after I gave it to her she came up to me and told me she'd purchased seven copies, to give to her friends.  (Then of course I was all like, "Ugh, must I?" but the Lord urged me to buy even more copies, and now five additional friends are gifted with copies.)

A few days later, the same friend came to me and said there was a line in the book that had gotten her to thinking.  The line was something like, "Allow the Lord to use you wherever you are, whether it be in raising children for the Lord alongside your husband, or as a single woman on Wall Street."  The author, I'm sure, meant, you know, the stock market version of Wall Street.  But...  in my neck of the woods a lot of our Sunday School work originated on a street called Wall Street.  So, after reading this line, my friend came to me and said she wanted to be more involved in the Sunday School effort.

"Oh, hey, perfect timing.  I'm having some girls over for supper this week, can you come?"  She made time, and she came.

Insert the night of the dinner.  I was stressed.  I'd forgotten to make cookies (a tragedy worse than DEATH to these kids) and more girls came than expected (which is to be expected, but sometimes I foolishly forget such things), and I was sort of running around like a headless chicken, helping girls make pizzas, keeping them from breaking the trampoline, that sort of thing.

The evening progressed, and I was much occupied with keeping things moving smoothly.  I talked to everyone, tried to get personal conversations in, but...  with a dozen or so (more?  I already don't remember) girls running around, it was rough.

My friend, however, felt the Lord urge her to talk to one of the girls specifically.  To just sit down and get to know her a little better.  To see if she was enjoying the evening and see if she had any questions about the Bible reading we'd had.

"Yeah," the girl wondered, when prodded, "what does it mean exactly to be born again?"

An hour later, I was inside watching the least sensical play EVER, as staged by the girls (I have several versions recorded on my phone, but have no idea how to upload them to Blogger--any advice?) and my friend and the girl wandered in.  My friend rejoicing with the angels; the girl freshly saved.

My friend told me she might not have come but for reading that line in the book.  I wouldn't have thought to invite her except that she brought it up first.  And I honestly don't think I would have made time to talk to that one girl myself.  All these little things work together, and now we rejoice (me with actual tears, because I ALWAYS cry when our kids get saved, haha) because of the reminders of God's abiding faithfulness.

So when I get worn down (interesting note--when I first heard that song I was particularly tired and worn--I begin to see a pattern in my life--and I'm pretty sure I cried.  I seem to cry a lot in these featured stories, sigh) I just have to remember that it's worth it.

Not for my own life, but for their lives, and for His eternal glory.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

The Princess Complex

I love fairy tales.  Worlds where girls grow up to be princesses, have some sort of adventure, and live happily ever after.  I'm sure a lot could be said about the happily ever after, but I'm not going into that right now.  Also, I wan to go on record as saying that when I was a kid I never had any interest in being a princess.  I just liked to read about them.  Anyhow, I just read an interesting article on Christianity Today's website (well, I want to be clear that it was actually on the blog Her.meneutics, which I like a lot better than CT itself, because CT has issues and I have issues with CT, but anyhow, yes, I read the Her.meneutics blog from time to time) about Karen Kingsbury's book The Princess and the Three Knights.

Now.  I know I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, but I don't think Karen has the most... varied imagination ever.  Most of her books have the same plot, and they usually center around stories of her family. Thinly veiled, of course, but since I read her dedications (all eight pages of them) I can follow her family enough to see through the veil.  I'm on to you, Karen.  Anyhow, I've solved that by not reading her books any more, so I'm over it.

But anyhow, I've read the book in question, and... I didn't think it was terrible.  I thought the story wasn't that creative (a young girl stands aside as young men vie for her hand, and one shows that his love for the Princess would never endanger her, thereby gaining the approval of kingdom and king and winning her hand), but I had nothing against it.  Does it lean towards arranged marriages?  I suppose, though let's be honest, which country has the least divorces?  India?  I thought so.

As a side note:  On my way home from California in January I sat by a couple in the plane who LifeStory'd (TM) me, and they asked a few times if I was married, and when I was getting married, and why wasn't I getting married?  I tried to explain that marriage was going to involve some young man who hasn't shown up and, quite frankly, isn't showing up very swiftly, as far as I can see.  We tried some other topics, but eventually they again shifted the subject back to marriage (we'd been talking about the Lord, actually.  They were Hindu, and so we discussed the Bible and virgin Mary and various related topics) by asking, "Haven't your parents heard of arranged marriages?"

I said that they had, but such things aren't so much done these days.  Then I heard further their LifeStory (TM) and their saga of their own arranged marriage, and how they ish-arranged marriages for their children, though with a way out if the kid thought the spouse was unsuitable.  They told me I could pass that along to my parents.  Which I did.  We all got a good laugh over their dismay at me being more than two decades old minus a husband.  Anyhow, they were a nice couple.  I gave them a calendar with some Bible verses on it, but they explained that they appreciated the gesture but weren't interested in converting.  We talked about it for a while, and Salvation, and what it means according to the Bible, but they seemed less than impressed.  So.  I hope they get saved.  The end.

Anyhow, the Her.meneutics article has a problem with the Karen Kingsbury story.  More than one, actually, but basically the author of the article is worried that girls will read the tale and become a wallflower who cannot think for herself.  Or speak for herself.  Perhaps a valid point (though really?  a little girl will grow up unable to think for herself because she one time read a picture book wherein the princess did nothing other than gasp and be happy that a husband had been found?), but what I thought was funny were the comments on the article.  Most people seemed to agree with the author, stating their reasons as to why such princess books were bad for children, and something about a funny scene in Shrek 3.  Never seen it, but apparently all the regular princesses (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella) think that help will come if only they act accordingly (act sleepingly, and scrub floors, for instace).  Anyhow, I have three things to say, both in response to the article, and also to the Shrek thing (which I haven't seen so I probably shouldn't be discussing, haha, but I'm only speaking for the scene in which the princesses do their sleeping/floor scrubbing).

1)  Uh, the man's job is to protect.  There are still some girls who assume that there is some guy who will act as her protector.  Not naming any names, for fear of being branded as, you know, having a Princess Complex, but I'm just putting that out there.

2)  While I agree that girls shouldn't sit about doing nothing, and dreamily saying that someday their prince will come, I have to say, is it so bad to be just doing your thing whilst you wait?  I mean, maybe you excel at mopping floors (a la Cinderella) and help out a lot of people by doing such... did that make Cinderella hopelessly inept because all she knew was cooking and cleaning?  Okay, so she'd never had to [fight/get out of tricky situations/whatever else may have happened in Shrek] but she was doing what she knew how to do. While I doubt she was doing it heartily as unto the Lord, I'd like to think it's kind of the same concept.

3)  My final point is that many of the comments in response to the article centered around the fact that the readers were upset that the book seemed to make marriage be the happily ever after.  "We are going to teach our daughter differently," the comments seem to say.  Uh, so you're worried that your daughter will read this book and then get the terrible idea that marriage is a great career choice (to borrow from my sister's phraseology)?  You and your husband are married, ma'am.  Do you worry that your daughter will see that you and your husband are (hopefully) contentedly married and then get the frightful idea that *gasp* she might want that, too?  I'd just like to point out that most people who are married with children will probably give their children the idea that marriage is often what you do with your life.  So... there's that.

Anyhow, I didn't mean to wax so eloquent.  I just read the article whilst I was reading up on things (that's another thing--I sort of didn't look at any blogs or anything while I was away, so now I'm looking back to see what I may have missed over the last three months) and thought I would share it.  The actual point of this entire long-winded point was mostly to say that if you do want a good picture book about Princesses, I HIGHLY recommend the book The Princess and the Kiss.  As far a picture books about princesses go, it's pretty much my favorite.  So.  You should all read it.  And your children should read it.  It focuses less on the happily ever after and more on purity.  Which I guess leads to the happily ever after, in this case.  But anyhow, as far as storybook lessons go, it's a good one.

PS, if any of this has offended you, as not being empowering enough to women, I'm... sorry?

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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...

The Bible in 50 words

This was another forward I got, but I thought it was a fun read!  I'd love to see a picture book of this...  It would be a good journey through the Bible for youngsters.  And those of us who just love to read picture books!

"God made
Adam disobeyed
Noah flooded
Abraham started
Joseph ruled
Jacob fooled
Bush speaking
Moses leading
Pharaoh balked
People walked
Sea divided
Tablets guided
Promise landed
Saul freaked
David peeked
Prophets warned
Jesus born
God walked
Love talked
Anger crucified
Jesus died
Resurrection morning
Spirit adorning
Word spread
Jesus wed"