Friday, March 31, 2006

Right On

If you are a homeschooling mom, you've got to read this post. Talk about convicting! And so absolutely RIGHT. I'm linking to it partly just so I'll remember to reread this often.

(I'd like to tell her how much I appreciated this, but coudn't find an email link anywhere on her site. Does anyone know how to contact Mrs. Mental Multi-Vitamin?)

Generation M

One of the biggest challenges for our family, as our kids have gotten older, has been to decide how much access to media our teens and pre-teens are going to be allowed to have. In today's world, we can't ban technology from our lives, nor do we want to--and yet, it's been difficult to decide how much of a good thing we should allow them--and ourselves.

The media rules in our home include the following. In general, we don't watch TV and we only watch movies on the weekends. The screen is OFF on Monday through Thursday and limited on weekends. We don't have any video games and just a few computer games, which the boys are allowed to play only if their other work is done, and they are supposed to read an hour for every half hour they play games. (This rule needs to be better enforced, but that is the guideline, and they know it.) We encourage listening to music and audio books.

Managing the Internet has been our biggest challenge, though. Since we homeschool, it is a way that our 13-year-old daughter keeps in touch with her friends. They email and IM (instant message) each other, and set up profiles on different sites where they can post pictures and leave comments for each other. Some of them even have blogs. (Internet safety issues are a topic unto themselves which I'm not going to go into here, except to say that we're hyper-vigilant.)

You've all heard about the frog in a pot of water who can be boiled to death without awareness if the temperature of the water increases slowly enough. Well, the way that media becomes a bigger and bigger part of anyone's life--but especially children's lives--can be the same way. It happened that way with our kids. First an email account, so they could practice their keyboarding skills by emailing their grandparents and a few friends. Then how to Google for information--and soon they had favorite websites like the Lego and American Girl sites. Before long they were no longer asking if they could get on the computer, but just hopping on, so we had to set up passwords so they had to go back to asking. Then, maybe at a friend's house, they set up an IM account and soon they're IM'ing whenever they get a chance and constantly fooling with their profile, their "away" message--it goes on and on.

We've had to put time limits on how much they're allowed to be on the computer, and according to them, an hour a day is not enough. Now they think they need cell phones and iPods--and we're asking ourselves "What is going on here?"

This article
explains what is going on, all across the country:
Fifteen years ago, most home computers weren't even linked to the Internet. In 1990 the majority of adolescents responding to a survey done by Donald Roberts, a professor of communication at Stanford, said the one medium they couldn't live without was a radio/CD player. How quaint. In a 2004 follow-up, the computer won hands down.

Today 82% of kids are online by the seventh grade, according to the Pew Internet and American Life Project. And what they love about the computer, of course, is that it offers the radio/CD thing and so much more--games, movies, e-mail, IM, Google, MySpace. The big finding of a 2005 survey of Americans ages 8 to 18 by the Kaiser Family Foundation, co-authored by Roberts, is not that kids were spending a larger chunk of time using electronic media--that was holding steady at 6.5 hours a day (could it possibly get any bigger?)--but that they were packing more media exposure into that time: 8.5 hours' worth, thanks to "media multitasking"--listening to iTunes, watching a DVD and IMing friends all at the same time. Increasingly, the media-hungry members of Generation M, as Kaiser dubbed them, don't just sit down to watch a TV show with their friends or family. From a quarter to a third of them, according to the survey, say they simultaneously absorb some other medium "most of the time" while watching TV, listening to music, using the computer or even while reading.

Some implications:

As for multitasking devices, social scientists and educators are just beginning to assess their impact, but the researchers already have some strong opinions. The mental habit of dividing one's attention into many small slices has significant implications for the way young people learn, reason, socialize, do creative work and understand the world. Although such habits may prepare kids for today's frenzied workplace, many cognitive scientists are positively alarmed by the trend. "Kids that are instant messaging while doing homework, playing games online and watching TV, I predict, aren't going to do well in the long run," says Jordan Grafman, chief of the cognitive neuroscience section at the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS). Decades of research (not to mention common sense) indicate that the quality of one's output and depth of thought deteriorate as one attends to ever more tasks. Some are concerned about the disappearance of mental downtime to relax and reflect. Roberts notes Stanford students "can't go the few minutes between their 10 o'clock and 11 o'clock classes without talking on their cell phones. It seems to me that there's almost a discomfort with not being stimulated--a kind of 'I can't stand the silence.'"

Gen M's multitasking habits have social and psychological implications as well. If you're IMing four friends while watching That '70s Show, it's not the same as sitting on the couch with your buddies or your sisters and watching the show together. Or sharing a family meal across a table. Thousands of years of evolution created human physical communication--facial expressions, body language--that puts broadband to shame in its ability to convey meaning and create bonds. What happens, wonders UCLA's Ochs, as we replace side-by-side and eye-to-eye human connections with quick, disembodied e-exchanges? Those are critical issues not just for social scientists but for parents and teachers trying to understand--and do right by--Generation M.

Some fascinating brain research:

When people try to perform two or more related tasks either at the same time or alternating rapidly between them, errors go way up, and it takes far longer--often double the time or more--to get the jobs done than if they were done sequentially, says David E. Meyer, director of the Brain, Cognition and Action Laboratory at the University of Michigan: "The toll in terms of slowdown is extremely large--amazingly so." Meyer frequently tests Gen M students in his lab, and he sees no exception for them, despite their "mystique" as master multitaskers. "The bottom line is that you can't simultaneously be thinking about your tax return and reading an essay, just as you can't talk to yourself about two things at once," he says. "If a teenager is trying to have a conversation on an e-mail chat line while doing algebra, she'll suffer a decrease in efficiency, compared to if she just thought about algebra until she was done. People may think otherwise, but it's a myth. With such complicated tasks [you] will never, ever be able to overcome the inherent limitations in the brain for processing information during multitasking. It just can't be, any more than the best of all humans will ever be able to run a one-minute mile."

Other research shows the relationship between stimulation and performance forms a bell curve: a little stimulation--whether it's coffee or a blaring soundtrack--can boost performance, but too much is stressful and causes a fall-off. In addition, the brain needs rest and recovery time to consolidate thoughts and memories. Teenagers who fill every quiet moment with a phone call or some kind of e-stimulation may not be getting that needed reprieve. Habitual multitasking may condition their brain to an overexcited state, making it difficult to focus even when they want to.

A helpful perspective for parents of teenagers:
The online environment, she points out, "is less risky if you are lonely and afraid of intimacy, which is almost a definition of adolescence. Things get too hot, you log off, while in real time and space, you have consequences." Teen venues like MySpace, Xanga and Facebook--and the ways kids can personalize their IM personas--meet another teen need: the desire to experiment with identity. By changing their picture, their "away" message, their icon or list of favorite bands, kids can cycle through different personalities. "Online life is like an identity workshop," says Turkle, "and that's the job of adolescents--to experiment with identity."

All that is probably healthy, provided that parents set limits on where their kids can venture online, teach them to exercise caution and regulate how much time they can spend with electronics in general. The problem is that most parents don't. According to the Kaiser survey, only 23% of seventh- to 12th-graders say their family has rules about computer activity; just 17% say they have restrictions on video-game time.

The bottom line:

For all the handwringing about Generation M, technology is not really the problem. "The problem," says Hallowell, "is what you are not doing if the electronic moment grows too large"--too large for the teenager and too large for those parents who are equally tethered to their gadgets. In that case, says Hallowell, "you are not having family dinner, you are not having conversations, you are not debating whether to go out with a boy who wants to have sex on the first date, you are not going on a family ski trip or taking time just to veg. It's not so much that the video game is going to rot your brain, it's what you are not doing that's going to rot your life."

Generation M has a lot to teach parents and teachers about what new technology can do. But it's up to grownups to show them what it can't do, and that there's life beyond the screen.

Aye. And that's harder than it ought to be, I think.

Anyone else dealing with this issue?

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Kids and Humor

It's a great thing to get a little kid to really belly laugh. It's so contagious...and they can keep it up indefinitely. Bitty Bantam (14 months) was "bothering" me just now as I was trying to type. He kept handing me a toy, then taking it back, dropping it, picking it up, handing it back to me, and repeating the cycle. Then he handed me a plastic bowl, and--trying to play with him without giving him my full attention--I put it on his head. He laughed, so I did it again. He laughed harder, and then I recalled a never-fail baby belly-laugh-getter--I put it on my head, tipped my head forward, and let it slide off into my hands. He cracked up so hard he couldn't remain standing.

So of course I did it again and again, until I realized he was way overdue for a nap, plus I was running out of time to finish what I was doing. So I scooped him up and made a pit stop in the kitchen for a wet paper towel to dab at the crusties under his nose, an activity usually guaranteed to bring irritated wails. But not today. He was still giggling from the bowl trick, so he decided he could be amused at the first dab. That made me chuckle, so we proceeded to chuckle and giggle our way through the whole snot-removal process--and he went to bed without a protest and with a smile on his face.

That reminded me of the time that my two middle boys were getting shots at the doctor, and they both were so nervous they gave each other a case of the uncontrolled giggles that not even the puncture of the needle could stop. Oh, they whooped a little at that, but just kept right on laughing, even through the second jabs. The nurse said she'd never seen anything like it.

Oh, the power of humor, especially with kids! Why don't I harness it more often??

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

My Fourth Grade Poetry Muse

In honor of National Poetry Month (coming up in April), which happens to be the theme of an upcoming Carnival of Children's Literature, and because I've been wanting to post this poem, let me tell you about my 4th grade teacher.

Miss Hackenbracht was one of my favorite teachers ever. Not because she was so nice--many of the kids thought she was mean. Not because she taught such memorable lessons--I remember very few of them. Certainly not because of her name--I remember we spent the first week of school drilling on its proper spelling.

But I loved Miss Hackenbracht because she was a great teacher--and because she read poetry to us. It wasn't even her area, as I recall. I know she taught us social studies and science, because I remember the planets drawn in colored chalk on her board and I remember going outside to place one hand on her little white Mustang and the other on a big black car she had parked next to, to see which had reflected or absorbed the heat. I also remember drawing a cartoon about producers, middlemen and consumers of milk from an imaginary dairy farm complete with cartoon cows, as an assignment for her. Another teacher, I distinctly remember, taught reading, spelling and grammar to us--but they must have let Miss Hackenbracht teach us writing, and she mostly taught us to write poetry.

It was from her that I first heard of a cinquain and a haiku, or tried my hand at writing one, working my way up to a ballad which was probably the crowning jewel of my 4th grade year, a cowboy's ode to his horse called "Boastin' 'Bout Good Ol' Lightnin.' " She started us out, I remember, with the ongoing game of "terse verse." Like "What is a rosy washing place? A pink sink!" The "center puzzler?" The "middle riddle!" My best friend and I would banter them back and forth all during lunch and recess, trying to stump each other.

Miss Hackenbracht would always make it seem like a great privilege--IF we had a few minutes left before it was time to go to lunch, or go to our next class, or get on the bus--to get to listen to poetry. She never read from a poetry book that I recall, but from a poetry notebook which she had compiled of her favorite poems, and she would insist upon absolute stillness while she read. If anyone made a sound she would instantly stop, look around slowly with a narrow-eyed stare, and wait an eternity before continuing. If it happened twice, she'd put the notebook away.

My favorites were the funny ones. We all loved "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout, who would not take the garbage out" and I can still recall phrases like "And so it piled up to the ceilings--coffee grounds, potato peelings..." and "...from Memphis to the Golden Gate, till Sarah met an awful fate, which I cannot right now relate, because the hour is much too late..." (You must read the whole clever and hilarious poem here.)

Someone gave us Where the Sidewalk Ends when our first child was born, so I've been able to enjoy "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout" for years with my own children. But another poem that Miss H used to read to us has haunted me, because for years I've been able to recall so much of it, but I could never find it in any anthologies. Then, since starting this blog and becoming more attuned to the vast capacities of search engines, it occurred to me to Google on a few lines...and lo and behold!...the poem I had not heard in entirety in thirty years leaped off the computer screen at me.

So, with a hat tip to Miss Hackenbracht (and with enduring thanks for launching me in my love affair with the cadence of well-chosen words), here's my 4th grade favorite:



The Mortifying Mistake
by Anna Maria Pratt


I studied my tables over and over
And backward and forward too
But I couldn't remember six times nine
And I didn't know what to do
'Til my sister told me to play with my doll
And not to bother my head
"If you call her 'Fifty-four' for awhile
You'll learn it by heart', she said.

So I took my favorite, Mary Anne,
Though I thought 'twas a dreadful shame
To give such a perfectly lovely child
Such a perfectly horrible name,
And I called her my dear little Fifty-four
A hundred times 'til I knew
The answer of six times nine
As well as the answer of two times two.

Next day, Elizabeth Wigglesworth,
Who always acts so proud
Said, "Six times nine is fifty-two,
And I nearly laughed out loud
But I wished I hadn't when teacher said,
"Now Dorothy, tell if you can."
For I thought of my doll and sakes alive!
I answered, "Mary Anne!"




Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Smells to High Heaven

"Do you know your farts go up to heaven?" I overheard Bantam 10.75 saying, obnoxiously, to Bantam 15.

"WHAT?" I thundered from the computer.

He walked into my sight line, smiling sheepishly. "Did you really say that?" I asked. "Why?"

Shrugging, he reiterated, "Well, they don't stop. They just keep going."

I shook my head in amused disapproval. "But why were you saying that?"

He shrugged again.

"Were you trying to get him to stop?"

"Well, yeah!" (Duh!)

Monday, March 27, 2006

Hannibal, Here We Come


So, have you all been waiting with bated breath to find out what parts our kids got in the play? The cast list was supposed to be up yesterday after 4:00, but then a friend called, in the midst of the rush to find shoes and get out the door to church, to tell my daughter that it was up already! So of course we all had to pore over that (quickly, quickly...)--and came away scratching our heads, all the way to church.

The director cast the tallest boy who auditioned--who most recently was Daddy Warbucks in ANNIE--as Tom Sawyer. Huck Finn is one of the older boys as well. Both boys have deep voices. This theater group has plenty of boys in the 13 and under group (down to 8) and not that many over 13 (up to 18). We all thought Tom, Huck and their friends would be in the lower age range, with the older, taller kids playing the adults of the town.

Tom Sawyer is such an icon of innocent, rascally, preteen boyhood. To cast him as a teenager just seems to miss the point. The younger boys are all so cute--and cute little boys are what people will think they're getting if they come to the show. We just feel sad for "what could have been."

[UPDATE--it seems they're not making him into a teenager--just planning to ignore his height! Apparently, as Dramamom in NC commented, this is a challenging role that most younger boys just aren't able to carry. It requires a strong singer, actor and dancer, and the boy they cast as Tom really was the only male strong in all three areas. It's been done before with an older boy, they say, (as does Dramamom) and everyone seems to think it's going to work fine. --So what do I know??]

Well, Bantam 10.75 got the part of Ben--one of Tom's friends or classmates--we haven't seen a script yet. We know he has some lines, but not enough that he'll need a script to memorize from. Blondechick 13 will be a Bat Dancer, in the famous scene where Tom and Becky get lost in the cave. Apparently there's a musical number in the cave, in which there are dancing bats. She is not excited. ("I've never had to wear an ugly costume before," she moaned.) We aren't sure, but that may be the only scene she's in. Hopefuly she's in the full ensemble numbers too.

Rehearsals start Friday night and performances are the second and third weekends in May. It's AMAZING every time to see what they pull off with 85 kids in 10 weeks!

So, Hannibal, MO--here we come!
From the preface, by Mark Twain, to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer:

Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of wht they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Sunday Reading

...from a Christian classic--Talking With God, by Francois Fenelon:

If you wish to become meek, you must humble yourself. Make yourself little in the depths of your heart. A humble heart is always gentle and capable of being easily led in its center, even if on the surface it may seem rough through unexpected outbursts of a sharp and irritable temper. Watch, pray, and work at this. Bear with yourself without flattering yourself.

My Lenten disciplines are going okay, but I can't seem to keep a permanent lid on my "sharp and irritable temper." The lines I printed in bold are especially encouraging and helpful, I thought.

And here is an expansion of that last thought:

We must bear with ourselves without either flattery or discouragement, although we seldom achieve this happy median. We either expect great things of ourselves and of our good intentions, or else we wholly despair. We must hope for nothing from self, but wait for everything from God. Convicted of our helplessness, we have no confidence in ourselves, and yet we have unbounded confidence in God. These are the true foundations of the spiritual edifice.

Great words for Lent!

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Three Weddings and....Waiting

Well, the auditions are over...the call backs are over...now the waiting begins! The cast list will be up tomorrow at 4:00. Bantam 10.75 was called back to read and sing for a lead role--very exciting!

Blondechick 13 was called back for a dancing role only. She was really hoping for a lead this time and did so well in her audition, we thought she had a good chance. Every director is different, though, and what they're looking for can change with every show.

Since Bantam 10.75 had to be there early, we dropped him off and went out to breakfast, and I tried to help her process her disappointment through God's eyes. She ended up telling me about a conversation she had with a friend at last week's sleepover in which she realized how blessed she really is, although she so easily takes it all for granted. That was a great perspective to take on it, I thought. But it was hard to hold onto when she arrived at dance call backs and discovered that many of her friends had been called back for reading, though it was hard to tell why she was not. But "that's showbiz," as Grandma, who used to be on Broadway, reminded her!

In other news, we know of three couples getting married today! This is by one of my favorite poets--I ran across it the other day while looking for something else.

At the Wedding March
(Gerard Manley Hopkins)

GOD with honour hang your head,
Groom, and grace you, bride, your bed
With lissome scions, sweet scions,
Out of hallowed bodies bred.

Each be other's comfort kind:
Déep, déeper than divined,
Divine charity, dear charity,
Fast you ever, fast bind.

Then let the March tread our ears:
I to him turn with tears
Who to wedlock, his wonder wedlock,
Déals tríumph and immortal years.

Wish we could have attended the weddings! One was in Texas. One was the wedding of Blondechick's debate coach, which she would have attended if she hadn't been called back. Papa Rooster and I would have been at the third, except...can you guess?...he came down with the flu. Yup. At least he should be fine by tomorrow, when he has a sermon to give!

Friday, March 24, 2006

Sick KIds

At bedtime last night, I succumbed to fever. It had been oncoming for an hour or so before that. I just hoped I could sleep through it and wake up fine in the morning.

But at 2:30 a.m., Chicklet 3 started throwing up. And continued to do so, every 10-15 minutes, for the next 2.5 hours. TEN TIMES I jumped out of bed, feverish as I was, and raced to her side. (I had sent Papa Rooster to the basement to sleep in the guest room.) And TEN TIMES, she hit the bucket--what a good girl! There was nothing in her tummy after about the fourth time, though, and there was one precious moment when she whispered over the bucket, after dry heaving again, "This is hard...to...do."

Yes, dear, this is hard. (Hard for mama to watch.) And you are such a trooper.

It's funny how illness brings out the sweet side of my kids. Bantam 7, back on Monday when this started, asked me over and over to pray for him, and he thanked me over and over for being his mom. Bantam 10.75 also thanked me repeatedly for my time, care, love, help..and for being his mom. He asked me to pray for him a half dozen or more times, and as often happens when he's sick, he waxed philosophical. "Is sickness evil?...Am I being punished for my sin?...Will there be sickness in heaven?...If God can make it so there is no sickness in heaven, why doesn't He make it so there's no sickness on earth?...Aren't we in God's presence now?"

Tough questions, son. No easy answers, either.

The two who have auditions tonight are still dragging and too weak to practice singing and dancing. I'm glad we put as much work as we did into their numbers last week, but it's so disappointing that they're not going to have the last minute polish they need. Hopefully they'll perk up before 7:30 tonight!

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Auditions

We've been working hard all week on auditions for the next show--Tom Sawyer! The strains of "Tomorrow," "It's a Hard Knock Life," "Little Girls," and "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" have been replaced by "Popular" (from Wicked) and "Why Am I Me?" (from Shenandoah).

This morning I overheard Chicklet 3 and Bantam 7 singing "Why Am I Me?" together, word-perfect!

The dark cloud hanging over our week has been--sickness. Blondechick 13 was knocked out for Monday and Tuesday with an achy flu, while Bantam 7 suffered all day Monday with stomach cramps and throwing up. We rejoiced on Wednesday that no one was sick!--but I've been praying, since Monday, that the two who are auditioning on Friday night would either be spared, or get it over with before then.

So, it was with relief this morning that I heard the news from Chicklet 3 that Bantam 10.75 was sick. Sure enough, he had a stomachache and was asking for a bucket. Next I went to get Bitty Bantam from his crib...and was met by an incredible stench as I opened the door. He was covered in vomit and appeared to have slept all night in it--eewwwww! After two shampoos, his hair still smells sour. He seems to be feeling all right now...

Blondechick 13 was a crab all morning, sure that she was going to get it tomorrow right before her audition. So what a relief it was, this afternoon, to hear her calling from her bedroom--where she was supposed to be staying away from the others and doing her math--for a bucket! Praise God for answered prayer. Yippee!

Now, guess who will probably miss auditions? Yeah, me. The last couple of shows, we have all gone and watched them all. It's like a variety show; everybody has one minute to get up and show off their best stuff. Some are hilarious, some absolutely wow you, some are painfully bad. But they're all fun to watch! I'll be so bummed if I'm sick and can't go. And Chicklet 3 hasn't got it yet either....

You know who else is potentially in trouble now? Papa Rooster has to write a sermon and preach it Sunday. Yikes!

Better resume my prayers--Lord, have mercy!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Perusing the current Carnival of Homeschooling, I came across this article about a doctor who left her practice to homeschool her children:

“But I enjoyed my work so much, and I loved my patients. I enjoyed it so much that I couldn’t see doing anything else. But God works on you.” A visitor quickly learns that a heart-to-heart conversation with Dr. Karim includes hearing how her Christian faith is the key that helped her answer the familiar, age-old question: “What is my purpose for being here?”

“I know that I wasn’t listening to God when He was telling me what I should do,” she says. “In the last few years that I was working, I just knew that I was supposed to be doing something different, as we had things happen. (For instance) we bought a new house that was supposed to be the dream house, but it was infested with fleas.”

She smiles at the memory, but the conversation returns to the serious.

“We realized we got caught up in the materialistic side of things – having the best cars, house, vacations – and we weren’t focusing on the spiritual side and ‘making yourself better for God’ side.”

While Jana was working through her dark night of the soul (to use the memorable phrase associated with St. John of the Cross), another teachable moment occurred when her eldest child – then a second grader in a public school’s accelerated program – was confined to bed due to an illness. In helping her son with his schoolwork, Jana estimates it took less than an hour to get his work completed.

“I thought, ‘What is he doing with the rest of the time?’ I loved the school, but I realized there was so much more we could do.”


I have a friend who's done the same thing. I knew her for years through a homeschooling group before she mentioned that she is a pediatrician. I couldn't believe it!

Christine Field, who's mentioned in the middle of the article, is also a friend through the same group. She's an impressive and inspiring lady who has encouraged me personally in many ways, especially as a would-be writer.

Christine Field, of Wheaton, Illinois, the author of six books about child rearing, adoption, and home education, has traveled down this road. For eight years, she practiced law and had “the typical dual-career marriage.” (Mark Field, her husband, is Wheaton’s chief of police.)

In 1991, Mrs. Field left the workforce to homeschool her brood. She has four children – three are adopted and one is biological. “Sure it can be more glamorous to go to an office and be called ‘Ma’am’ than just be a middle-aged woman in the suburbs,” she candidly remarks.

But she decided that “sub-contracting the children rearing” wasn’t for her. The prolific writer has commented honestly and cheerfully about her new life. In Home School Digest magazine, she wrote, “My house unapologetically reflects the fact that children are in residence. From the toys on the lawn to the projects scattered around the house, a visitor can readily see that this is a place of creativity and learning.”

(A favorite quote from Chris is from when she was speaking on adoption and someone asked about the expense of it. "Yes, it cost us as much as a new minivan. But you can't take a minivan to heaven with you!")

My friend the pediatrician says maybe she'll go back to it when her girls are in college. But her time with them has been so short--they're nearing high school already--that it's worth even the financial hardship they experience for now.

What an investment, though!
By the way, if you're interested in children's theater, I heard about this program from Mary at Owlhaven. Apparently they travel to cities all over the country. (For those in my area who may not want to make the 10-week commitment to the program we're in, Missoula is coming to our area this summer--see here.)

Monday, March 20, 2006


The final performance of Annie, Jr. was Saturday!

That's Daddy Warbucks there with the shaved head, next to Annie, his secretary Grace, and his butler Drake.










Next we have FDR....












Two bums from the Hoovervilles (that's Bantam 10.75 on the left)...












and Lily St. Regis in between two of Daddy Warbucks' servants (Blondechick 13 is the one on the right.

Monday Meanderings

It's an unusual Monday morning today--I'm letting everyone sleep in, and the baby, God bless him, is joining the crowd! I actually made coffee and read my Lenten devotional without any little companions; I even cleared everything off the "catchall" desk in my bedroom so I'd have a nice place to sit down with my coffee. I'll admit--it all went into a laundry basket on the floor, but at least I could dust off my desk and, for the first time in weeks, my laptop is now in contact with the desk surface instead of being precariously balanced on top of a pile of books and papers.

I don't think we're doing school today. We had a whirlwind weekend with the final two performances, the unofficial "Cast Party," and the official "Strike Party" all in a 48 hour period. My mom was here for it all, and while babysitting during the first performance, she scrubbed the sink, the stove, the cluttered area behind the espresso maker, my children, and the shower shelves. She attended the second performance, on Saturday afternoon, and went out to dinner with my in-laws and some of their friends while we struck the set and attended the Cast Party. (Isn't that cool? My parents and Papa Rooster's parents have become good friends since our marriage. They've even spent a week at each other's houses. Before my in-laws moved to our area, they lived near New York City, so my parents got to do NYC with the natives!)

The Cast Party included, this time, a sleepover for the girls--and we let Blondechick 13 go on her first ever sleepover. We've had a "no sleepover" policy for years, which has been hard for her to accept. Since my husband is clergy, and because we both used to be very involved in healing ministry, we've just heard too many stories--the kind you don't want to hear and can hardly believe, yet here is the victim, years later, telling you how he or she is still dealing with the effects of the sin of that best friend's uncle or older brother. Our policy has also saved us endless weekends of driving kids all over the county and dealing with overtired kids, headed off many discussions of why you can stay overnight there but not there, and also given us a great excuse when our kids have been invited to stay overnight with total strangers (as our kids who have spent any time in public school have been). To all this, we just say, "Sorry--we don't do sleepovers."

Blondechick has too-verbally opposed this decision, however, and last August we stated that if, in acceptance of our rule, she would not mention the s-word ("sleepover") until she had completed 7th grade this June, we would consider loosening our policy after that. She's been good about it, and this seemed like a worthy exception. It turned out to be a great time, as some of the older girls led the group in a time of worship and sharing what God is doing in their lives--more like a Christian retreat than any of us expected. So it was not just silliness, although there was plenty of that and not much sleeping, of course! She says she's glad that her first sleepover was such a special time.

So naturally I'm letting her--and everyone else--sleep in. But Bitty Bantam and Chicklet are now awake. Naturally.

[Six hours later]

Just wanted to add that the Strike Party, too, was a great time of praising the Lord and recognizing all the hard work the parents put in on the play. Best Actor and Actress and many other awards were given out to the kids, including the award for most Christlike (the only award the kids vote on, which went to one of the girls who led the worship at the sleepover). It was great to see the kids cheering just as enthusiastically for their parents as they did for each other! One of the things this organization does so well is foster a spirit of encouragement and appreciation.

So today, we've been straightening up the mess created by rushing out and running back in and dropping everything and scrambling to run back out again...AND working on Bantam 10.75's audition for the next show--which is Friday night! Yeah, there just isn't time for a break, if the spring play is to finish up before school is out and all the kids go eighty different directions for the summer. We should be working on Blondechick 13's too, but she's in bed with the flu--the same achy thing our homeschooling partners are sick with. The girls were all at the sleepover together of course...so I wonder how many other girls are too sick today to go to school or work on their auditions. We're just praying that Bantam 10.75 can stay well--or get over it before Friday.

I've been thinking I should cook a nicer dinner, for the first time since Dress Rehearsals, except that I'd rather spend the time furthering my cleaning efforts--(or distracting myself by writing this). But Papa Rooster just called and said since he has to write a sermon for Sunday, he'd like to get our Date Night out of the way by doing it tonight, so he can concentrate on sermon prep for the rest of the week.

Okay, my paraphrase--he was more tactful, and since that idea fits so beautifully with my lack of interest in cooking tonight, I don't mind in the least. Plus I love connecting with my husband without 6 kids around to interrupt every few sentences! We used to try to go out alone together every week or two, and we completely stopped when he lost his job for six months. We're still on the austerity plan, but we are barely seeing each other these days, between his long days with an hour commute each way, and me being out with the kids all these nights with the play.
I dreamed the other night that I was expecting, but I wasn't sure it was his baby! I couldn't think of anyone else's it could be, however. Phew. So my emotional landscape is healthy...just missing my other half, I think.

His new job is going very well, by the way--he likes the people and the work--and last week in Las Vegas he gave a presentation that everyone was raving about. He's such a good speaker. The only downside is that he is gone sooooo much, without much likelihood of that changing any time soon.

But he's home now!

Friday, March 17, 2006

St. Patrick's Breastplate



We'll be singing this song of the powerful protection of the name of God on Sunday! (If you want to hear the stirring melody, you can listen to it here.)


I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this today to me forever
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the star lit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

This One's for Holy Mama

One of the cutest blogs out there has got to be Kelsey's at Holy Mama. I loved her byline the first time I opened up her site and I kept going back, especially after reading her amazing testimony. Not only that, but she was one of my first encouragers by her frequent comments!

When I first saw that byline, I knew that sometime I would just have to share this song with her. I'm not good at audio stuff, but I can Google for lyrics...and I've just been waiting for an opening to post these in her honor. After the subject came up in this post, I knew it was time! I love it how she's such a straight shooter about the important things, yet takes herself not seriously at all.

So Kelsey, this one's for you...though not from me, understand! You have to imagine a very cheesy romantic duet between a guy and a gal, with a score full of musical cliches.

Way Down Deep (You're Shallow)

Music and Lyrics by John Forster

Way down deep you're shallow,
Superficial to the core.
Beneath your surface
There's just more surface.
And beneath that--even more.
You've never had a deep thought
And I hope you never do.
You're all I need.
You're just my speed.
I'm even shallower than you.

You're not an iceberg--just a tip.
So you can't rip
The bottom off my ship.
I feel so safe when you are nearby
Because I know there's less
To you than meets the eye.

And though you're oh so shallow,
Truly dumb and kind of glazed,
Compared to me,
You're like some Ph. D.
I'm so shallow that I'm slightly raised,
Slightly raised.

[Instrumental break] ( The deeper you go, the less you will find.)

Way down deep we're shallow,
Hollow as an old guitar.
And considering that we're so empty,
It's amazing how full of it we are.

At heart, we're both so heartless,
Yet we've pledged our hearts forever more.
And we're sincere
Right down to our veneer.
Deep down we're shallow to the core.
Deep down we're shallow to the core.

(This pool has no deep end, no lifeguard is needed.
The island is lovely, but nobody lives there.)

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I'm still busy this week trying to catch up from all of last week's dress rehearsals and shows, with Papa Rooster gone all week, and my mother coming tomorrow!

So here's a little more from Kathleen Norris in The Quotidian Mysteries--building on the idea of work and routine as worship:

...I read recently...of a study that monitored the habits of married couples in order to determine what made for good marriages. The researchers found that only one activity seemed to make a consistent difference, in terms of the ability to maintain a stable, happy, long-lasting relationship, and that was simple affection, the embracing or kissing of one's spouse at the beginning and the end of each workday.

Most significantly, as Paul Bosch, the author of the article, reports, "it didn't seem to matter whether or not in that moment the partners were 'fully' engaged or even sincere! Just a perfunctory peck on the cheek seemed to be enough--enough to make a difference in the quality of the relationship!" Bosch comments, wisely, that this "should not surprise churchgoers. Whatever you do repeatedly...has the power to shape you, has the power to make you over into a different person--even if you're not totally 'engaged' every minute!"

I wonder if we might substitute that "peck on the check" for some of the prayers that a religious community recites daily... No human being can pay full attention to the words that he or she is praying every single day, and apparently this is how God would have it. Sometimes, particularly at crisis points in our lives, we feel these words with our whole heart....But all too often, I pray these magnificent prayers with only half a mind, one half yawning and...the other half dwelling on the fact that my feet hurt... As for the words that I am dutifully saying, I might as well be praying in tongues, and maybe I am. And maybe the prayer is working despite myself.

It is a paradox of human life that in worship, as in human love, it is in the routine and the everyday that we find the possibilities for the greatest transformation. Both worship and housework often seem perfunctory. And both, by the grace of God, may be anything but.

...What we dread as mindless activity can free us, mind and heart, for the workings of the Holy Spirit, and repetitive motions are conducive to devotions such as the Jesus Prayer or the rosary. Anything is fair game for prayer, anything or anyone who pops into mind can be included.


The Jesus Prayer is "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." I have lately fallen into the habit of muttering a quick version of it--"Lord, have mercy"--under my breath when I am stressing out because we are late or I can't find something I'm looking for. It is much better than ranting at my kids! I have wondered, at times, should I stop saying it because I'm not really thinking about what it means? Could it even fall into the category of taking the Lord's name in vain? Yet I have sensed it changing me, transforming my stress into peace.

The Lord's Prayer is always a profound prayer, even when prayed with a baby squirming in my arms and a toddler whispering loudly in my ear. And the simple invocation, "Come, Holy Spirit," which I often breathe as I head to the basement to break up an escalating argument among my boys, may not guarantee peace or great wisdom on my part, but does it change me? Undoubtedly.

Also, isn't it encouraging to think that such a small thing as kissing your husband when he walks in the door can have such a great impact on your marriage? Similarly, the little rituals we form with our kids--whether it's a story at bedtime or a prayer before meals or an inside joke--must also be powerful relational bonds.

Monday, March 13, 2006

The Building Blocks of Eternal Things


Yesterday’s entry reminded me of one of my favorite books, The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and Women’s Work by Kathleen Norris (who wrote Dakota and The Cloister Walk). This little book is the text of a lecture she gave on the every-day-ness (that’s what "quotidian" means) of women’s work and how much it is like worship, especially liturgical worship which is full of repetition, yet is “new every morning.” Liturgy means “work of the people,” and she examines, as only a poet can, the connection between work and worship.

I wrote yesterday of activities that seem repetitious, time-consuming and somewhat meaningless, yet they are the building blocks of eternal things. It reminded me of this section in The Quotidian Mysteries. Norris explains that her sister-in-law used to pick up her daughter every day from day care:

...and every afternoon she brought Christina an orange, peeled so that the child could eat it on the way home. One day Christina was playing…and I asked her what her mother did at work. Without hesitation, and with a conviction that I relish to this day, she looked up at me and said, “She makes oranges.”

And this is what God does, I think, making oranges and wind and the ocean and green leaves and everything else that constitutes our earthly home. Christina’s mother had fulfilled a priestly role—in the archetypal sense, in the priesthood of all believers—by allowing the child to participate in a daily ritual, a liturgy of the delicious orange, bright as the sun, sweet with the juice that is the body and blood of this world. The child who is thus fed by a mother’s love eventually learns to trust in others, and also in God. The fruit we are given is not always what we expect or want; it may even be bitter, but we are secure in knowing that it is given to us out of love. The capacity for trust that begins in such ordinary human encounters, as between a mother and child, can come to have a deep religious significance, not only for ourselves, but for the entire community of faith.

She goes on to quote Gerard Manley Hopkins:

It is not only prayer that gives God glory but work. Smiting on an anvil, sawing a beam, white-washing a wall, driving horses, sweeping, scouring, everything gives God some glory if being in His grace you do it as your duty. To go to communion worthily gives God great glory, but to take food in thankfulness and temperance gives Him glory too. To lift up the hands in prayer gives God glory, but a man with a dungfork in his hand, a woman with a slop pail, give Him glory, too. God is so great that all things give Him glory if you mean that they should.

Norris again:

This is incarnational reality, the sanctity of the everyday…. Laundry, liturgy and women’s work all serve to ground us in the world, and they need not grind us down. Our daily tasks, whether we perceive them as drudgery or essential, life-supporting work, do not define who we are as women or as human beings. But they have a considerable spiritual import…it is daily tasks, daily acts of love and worship that serve to remind us that religion is not strictly an intellectual pursuit….

I love the expression, “a liturgy of the delicious orange.” I think when my kids are grown they will remember “the liturgy of the read-aloud on the couch,” “the liturgy of conversation in the car,” and “the liturgy of putting on our makeup before a show” just as well as they remember the actual liturgy of Morning Prayer which we try to do, at least in part, most days. Even when I do these things imperfectly, with impatience or annoyance, they minister to a child…and how much better when I can do them with love and a sense that I am worshiping God in doing them!

Sunday, March 12, 2006

The Things That Last

Five performances in three days...we're all exhausted, but in a happy way. We have five days off before the final two shows on Friday and Saturday, and since auditions for the next show, Tom Sawyer, are less than two weeks away, we've got to get busy working on those. Ah, the joys of theater!

I've hardly been home for the past week, it seems, so the housework has piled up and I've got to dig out this week, while keeping up the normal schedule of homeschooling, piano lessons, debate and several church commitments. Papa Rooster will be at a conference in Las Vegas all week, and my parents are coming on Thursday, for a visit and to see the show, of course! So we'll see if I can squeeze in any blogging. (I've been managing to read other blogs while I nurse Bitty Bantam, but haven't had time for leaving comments.)

I've been pondering I Corinthians 3:11-15, which the kids and I read one morning last week.

10According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. 11For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. 12Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw-- 13each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. 14If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. 15If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.


When the kids and I read this, we discussed spending our lives on things that will last. I gave the example of a life invested in raising children, in homeschooling them, or in introducing others to Jesus Christ and discipling them, vs. a life spent pursuing fame or material gain. We can hope to bring our family and friends to heaven with us, but everything else will be left behind, consumed by fire, in the end.

This week I've been thinking about theater in this light. We're spending hours and hours on something that will not last. Next Saturday, after the final curtain closes (and the kids all scream for about five solid minutes!), the show will be over, never to be repeated again in quite the same way. Are the hours spent in the car, shopping for shoes, practicing dances, and making up faces worth it?

What lasts, I'm realizing, is the education they've received, the skills learned, the confidence gained, the acceptance and encouragement freely given, the love and sacrifice of the directors and parents, the character modelled and applauded. I'm not saying all theater programs are like this--I hear they're not, in fact--but this one makes Christian values the primary part of their identity. The kids see the adults constantly asking for God to be glorified through the show, through their teamwork and love for one another and their audience. Modesty and respect for others is expected, and even more coveted than the director's awards for Best Actor and Best Actress is that for Most Christlike, voted on by the kids.

So all those hours, though it sorta sounds like craziness (okay, it IS craziness), I think are lasting building materials. They're a lot like the hours spent doing laundry, changing diapers, wiping noses, cooking meals, vacuuming, explaining long division and reading The Runaway Bunny for the fifty-ninth time. Sometimes it feels like building straw by straw, but I believe that in the end, we will find that those straws are made of spun gold.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

School Day Performances Today



Doesn't Annie look the part? We didn't do a thing to her hair, except add an auburn rinse.

She's just adorable--and can she ever sing, dance and act too!

Sandy was a bad dog today...Annie had to drag him on stage in the first show and in the second he wasn't budging for anybody!

That's Blondechick 13 and Bantam 10.75 as NYC'ers...

...some of Daddy Warbuck's servants (Blondechick is second from left)...



...and some New York gentlemen--that's Drake the butler in the center.


My makeup committee did a great job, wouldn't you say? Part of our job is to train the older kids to do their own makeup (and moms to do the younger children.) We do hair, specialty makeup, makeup changes, and lots of finishing, correcting and touching up.

I barely had time to take pictures, with a cast of 80!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Revenge of the Poop Orcs

One run-through and two dress rehearsals down, five shows to go (in the next three days). I've been too busy even to take pictures, let alone post any, but hope to get some up soon....

In the meantime, here's what I got!


We rarely take the whole family to see a movie in the theater, but we did for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (well, not the two littlest). The last one before that, and the only one of The Lord of the Rings trilogy which our kids saw in the theater, was The Return of the King. We had worried that it was a little intense for Bantam-then-almost-6, but he was fine. (I made sure he was seated by me, and during the scary parts, I kept checking on him. "I'm trying to watch the movie, Mom," he always answered.)

After TLTW&TW, Papa Rooster asked Bantam-then-6, "So were you scared during the movie?" When he said no, Papa said, "Oh, that's right, you saw The Return of the King, and that was scarier. Was there anything in it that scared you?"

Bantam 6, ever matter-of-fact, replied, "No, not really. Except for maybe the poop orcs."

Papa R: "The poop orcs? What are you talking about?"

Bantam 6: "You know, when they were making the orcs underground out of that poop soup...."

Monday, March 06, 2006

NYC, Here We Come!


Well, the Big Week is here! In six days we have one run-through, two dress rehearsals, two school-day performances and three public performances of the musical Annie (Jr.)--with two more performances next weekend. Those close to me are no doubt surprised that I've hardly mentioned children's musical theatre yet (other than this infamous post and a mention here that I do most of my blogging while waiting on my kids during rehearsals). Since the program opened in our area last January, we've been involved in four shows! It's a big commitment, but there are a number of reasons why we feel it has been worth it.

In the first place, it has given my children so much confidence in front of a group. Only Blondechick 13 (then 12) had the nerve to audition for the first show, but when Bantam-then-9 saw how much fun she was having, he couldn't wait to be in the next show...except for the dreaded audition. In an act of sheer courage and will, he pulled it off and got a part. For the next show, he auditioned like a pro. "Mom," he confided at one point, "I figured out that at [theater], it's not cool to be shy!"

Another reason we're willing to commit to this program is that it is truly a family affair. For the last two shows, we've had two kids onstage performing, one backstage shifting scenery, and one in "the house" ushering. Papa Rooster has helped with publicity and marketing, ushering and striking the set; I've solicited program ads and raffle donations and chaired the Makeup committee. Last spring, when Bitty Bantam played Baby Sleeping Beauty in the christening scene, we had 7 out of 8 family members involved in that show! Outside of church--or even including church--there aren't many activities such a wide range of ages can enjoy.

I really like theater as a means of channeling my teens' and preteens' social energies, too. They get lots of fun "hang out" time with their friends, but there's supervision and purpose for their time together, unlike at the movie theater or the mall. Plus, we parents are invited--nay, expected--to be involved, unlike at church youth group, for example. Though I'm not really into hair and makeup myself, I love the Makeup committee because I enjoy working so closely (pun intended) with the kids and getting to know my kids' friends that way. At the Cast Party, the Strike Party and at any impromptu gathering, whole families are welcomed and expected.

Finally, it is F-U-N. We work really hard all week on academics and music, and theater is a total change of pace for the kids and for me! I am so thankful for my husband, who stays home with the younger kids, and for my in-laws, who will be helping out this week too.

We finally got our desktop back and figured out where, in the back-up process, everything got stored. That means...hopefully...pictures soon! And that may be all I have time for this week!

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Of Books and Burritos

On February 28, our public library’s Winter Reading Program ended. Six of us completed the reading, viewing and listening needed to win the reward—a FREE burrito from Chipotle! (Let me insert here an unsolicited plug for this McDonald’s-owned company with delicious, healthy food and great community spirit. They just built one in our town, and a librarian told me that they were falling all over themselves to work with the library to promote reading!)

So today, for lunch after church, we redeemed our coupons and consumed our prizes. Mmmm, mmmm!

Turning in our book logs caused me to consider for a moment the best—and worst—reads of the year so far. Drumroll, please.... [opening the envelope...] [imagine me in a designer gown...]

And the kids' picks are...

Bantam 15 recommends Airborne by Kenneth Oppel, a Victorian-era adventure complete with pirates and an imaginary undiscovered species.

Blondechick 13 enjoyed Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan, a story about the trials and perseverance of a girl her own age, married and immediately widowed, living in a totally different culture (India) which has no place for her.

Bantam 10.75's new favorite books are The Castle in the Attic and The Battle for the Castle by Elizabeth Winthrop about a boy entering another world through a toy castle.

Bantam 7 loved Mice of the Herring Bone, Mice of the Nine Lives and Mice of the Seven Seas by Tim Davis. These are great easy chapter books for boys in that difficult period between Easy Readers and full-fledged books!

My personal favorites are new discoveries Sutter’s Cross and Levi’s Will by W. Dale Cramer. We were given an advance copy of his third novel, Bad Ground, last fall, and both my husband and I devoured it. These are published by Bethany House, but they are far from the usual soft-core romance fare being offered by so many Christian publishing houses. The characters are believable and real; the drama is in their struggle with real issues of thought and attitude toward others in their life. Do read them, if you enjoy fiction! (These are also Papa Rooster's favorite fiction reads of the year so far.)

These didn’t count for the library reading program, though, because I didn’t get them at the library. For that, I had to resort to some quick series reading—I picked up Jan Karon’s Mitford series where I left off, at the wedding story, A Common Life. Not her best, I thought, but in general, this series is delightful, uplifting, light reading. If you’re not familiar with them, the main character is an Anglican priest in a small Southern town filled with quirky characters. I love the example of Father Tim’s honest prayer life.

I also listened to an audio version of In the Company of Cheerful Ladies by Alexander McCall Smith. This series is set in Botswana and began with The Number One Ladies’ Detective Agency . Mma Ramotswe is the heroine who solves gentle mysteries of all kinds. These are not typical whodunits, but they are a refreshing immersion in a slower, simpler world with complexities of its own. Both Papa Rooster and I highly recommend this series!

(Fans will be interested in this tidbit: the reader of the audiobook I heard was South African, so the pronunciations were presumably accurate. Did you know that “Mma” is pronounced “Mmmmmma”? It sounds like the reader has a stammering problem, when she would say something like, “Mmmmmmma Makutsi poured another cup of tea for Mmmmmmma Ramotswe.” Most of my children, if they wandered in to the kitchen while I was listening, found this funny; one was disturbed!)

Finally, because this series is so available at my library and they’re relatively quick listens, I heard The Cat Who Went Bananas by Lillian Jackson Braun—and I hope it holds its position as the worst read of 2006. (Spare me anything worse!) I didn’t know till the very end that it would be this bad—but it ended so abruptly, I told my husband it seemed like the writer (probably a ghost writer, they say) was under pressure to meet a deadline and just said, “Fine, you want a book? Here’s a book!” These mysteries feature a melancholy, yet genial, older detective named Qwilleran who owns two cats, one of whom helps him solve cases by feline intuition. The early ones I can recommend, but they’ve been declining in quality and this one is actually humorous as a case in point. Since you’re not going to read this, I’m sure, I can tell you that it ends with a fire that conveniently burns everything up…and then, oh well, “we’ll never really know what happened.” That’s actually what it said, in the book. At the end. Call it the ghost writer’s revenge, I’m thinking.

Well, there you have it—the best and the worst so far! Anybody want to nominate others in either category? (If you aren't sure how to comment, log in as Anonymous. You can still leave your name with your comment.)

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Please join me in praying for the family of this mother who died giving birth to her fifth child.

Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.

Ann offers a tribute--and challenge to the rest of us!

Embarrassing the Angels

I like Peggy Noonan as a writer and as a social commentator. This article describes the loss of personal dignity in our society:

I experience [a violation of my dignity as a person] when I see blaring television ads for birth-control devices, feminine-hygiene products, erectile-dysfunction medicines. I experience it when I'm almost strip-searched at airports. I experience it when I listen to popular music, if that's what we call it. I experience it when political figures are asked the most intimate questions about their families and pressed for personal views on sexual questions that someone somewhere decided have to be Topic A on the national agenda in America right now. ...I think, we are embarrassing the angels.

Part of the solution, she says in so many words, is for women to embrace their roles as ladies:

According to American Heritage, a lady is a well-mannered and considerate woman with high standards of proper behavior.... I would add that a lady need not be stuffy, scolding, stiff. A lady brings regard for others into the room with her; that regard is part of the dignity she carries and seeks to spread. A lady is a woman who projects the stature of life.

Her resolve (for Lent, incidentally) is to assert her right as a lady and say "You are embarrassing the angels," instead of just thinking it.

Personally, I suspect that one reason our societal and personal sense of dignity has been so reduced is that, at some point, too many women stopped being ladies.

I'm not all about trying to change the culture, but in our circles of influence, especially our families...let's be ladies!

Friday, March 03, 2006

D_______ In Distress


Bantam 10.75 and I were going over vocabulary words from a King Arthur legend he had just read.

Me (being serious): Okay, so what's a damsel?

Him (not being serious): Well, Mom, y'know, that's, uh, the dude in the story, of course.

Me: (still serious): Dude or dudette?

Him (delighted smile creeping across his face): That would be the dudette, Mom!



(He's always been so easy to please.)

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Rash Wednesday

We have another guest blogger step up to the plate....

My dad's entry below reminded Papa Rooster of the story about another Baptist church that wanted to begin their own Ash Wednesday tradition...

They too had quite a time getting the old palms lit up (there is an art to this); so being experienced Barbecuers they grabbed some lighter fluid and poured it on. The leaves took flame and made a very fine ash that seemed perfect for their inaugural rite of imposition.

Unfortunately, there was an unanticipated Lenten discipline awaiting them. The fluid left some chemical residue in the ash and everyone in the church began to feel a strange burning sensation where the ash marked their skin. Later, after most of them had washed off the irritant they each sported impressive, cruciform red rashes on the forehead. A new penitential dimension was added, and with a kind of Lenten
beginner's luck, these Baptists were able to practice a mortification of the flesh that many liturgical rigorists would envy. ;-)

I was told, however, that they abandoned this fledgling tradition the following year.

(For the record, I heard this from one of the parishioners who was involved in burning the reluctant palms... so, it's not an urban myth, or a chapel legend!)

-Papa Rooster

A Baptist Ash Wednesday--On the Farm

Okay, I know you've had enough of the Ash Wednesday/Lenten theme, but I received an email yesterday, written with no audience in mind but me, that was too good not to share!

So today's guest blogger is...my dad! (A Baptist, a farm boy who taught biology till retirement, and now the manager of the family farm where I grew up.)

Just wanted to tell you that we are having our second consecutive Ash Wednesday again this year. And yes, we are using the ash residue from last year's tea leaves...no, that's another blog...last year's palm leaves.

Guess who the resident pyroclericrat is? Me. Our pastor asked me last spring to burn them and provide them to him, which I agreed to. I spent a year trying to think how could I provide unadulterated ash from consumed palm leaves. The fireplace, even if vacuumed, didn't seem kosher.

Under the pressure of time-running-out and desperation moving in, I took a big round aluminum tray that came with meats and cheeses arranged on it that was stored in the chicken house. Pulled out the tub from under the wood-loaded trailer in the carport we wash the dog in that has had 20 or so small ears of corn laying in it to dry this winter to feed to squirrels next summer when they start eating our pears.

Back to the chicken house, found a refrigerater shelf I'd retained for such a time as this. I set the aluminum pan on the corn and laid the refrigerator shelf across the top of the tub. The right amount of corn is critical because I wanted six inches or so distance for the ashes to fall gently. I set this up in the afternoon, but had to wait until early evening when it was less windy in the carport. I had to be out of the wind, but I didn't want to catch anything else on fire, such as the house.

I put 4-5 leaves on the shelf and lit them; they flared up rather impressively and died down quickly, so I fed a little handful in after the burn diminished. When they were all burned, I went back to the chicken house, found a piece of window screen, filtered the ash, bottled in in a taco-dip jar and delivered it to the Pastor.


Yes, my pack rat tendencies are surely an inheritance from my dad. (But see how handy they can be?!)

Only my dad would have been able to locate that meat & cheese tray, that refrigerator rack, and that taco-dip jar in the chicken house. There are several other outbuildings they could have been located in. (I would have thought they'd have been in the tenant house!)

The Christian Carnival is up at Wittenberg Gate--check it out! (I contributed a link to my first article on Lent.)

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Lenten Reading

Thanks to Hiraeth for this link to an excellent article by a Presbyterian minister summarizing the emphases of Lent.

In the longstanding tradition of special reading during Lent, I will be reading First Fruits of Prayer by Frederica Mathewes-Green (my Valentine's Day gift from Papa Rooster, you may recall). In this interview she discusses The Great Canon of St. Andrew, on which it's based.

Papa Rooster is reading The Mountain of Silence: A Search for Orthodox Spirituality by Kyriacos Markides and The Apostolic Fathers (Loeb Classical Library).

A Circle of Quiet's Lenten reading sounds inspiring; many other suggestions are at Happy Catholic and The Anchoress.

And for a final Lenten reading idea, don't miss this joke! (We try to provide something for everyone around here.)

Then & Now



Here's me and Bitty Bantam last year on Ash Wednesday (2/9)! Since Papa Rooster is a priest, he and I and Blondechick13 held our own little service at the hospital while we were waiting for labor to get going. It was hard to feel properly penitential, though, on a day of such rejoicing. It was one of my best births, too.

Today our whole family will attend one of the three services at church. It's a popular service; there will be a lot of college students there as well as folks from other churches. It's a beautifully sober service rich in symbolism and appeal to the senses--kneeling, silence, darkness, the ashes of last year's Palm Sunday palms, the mark of the cross on the forehead.

Litany of Penitence

The Celebrant and People together, all kneeling

Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and to one another,
and to the whole communion of saints
in heaven and on earth,
that we have sinned by our own fault
in thought, word, and deed;
by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.

The Celebrant continues

We have not loved you with our whole heart, and mind, and
strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We
have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven.
Have mercy on us, Lord.

We have been deaf to your call to serve, as Christ served us.
We have not been true to the mind of Christ. We have grieved
your Holy Spirit.
Have mercy on us, Lord.

We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the
pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation
of other people,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those
more fortunate than ourselves,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and
our dishonesty in daily life and work,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to
commend the faith that is in us,
We confess to you, Lord.

Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done:
for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our
indifference to injustice and cruelty,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our
neighbors, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those
who differ from us,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

For our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of
concern for those who come after us,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

Restore us, good Lord, and let your anger depart from us;
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great.

Accomplish in us the work of your salvation,
That we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son our Lord,
Bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection.

(The entire service is here.)