Bjork and Kitties in a Blender.

So well done.

Get the Smelling Salts!

So someone splashes paint on a billboard featuring "El Rushbo", and a city "official" (the guy in charge of cleaning said billboard) gets a chuckle out of it, and let's somebody know, and 200,000 people get the vapors. I know Sanity's dead, but would everyone stop being a bunch of Scarlet O' Hara's for goodness sake?! There are real wars and conflicts to worry about. And if you're not worried about them, then shut up and get a freaking beer and find a game to watch already.

Keith Henson Hates Scientologists....

which earns him 6 months in jail in California.

For "Threatening a Religion".

Fred Phelps says "God Hates Fags" and protests at military funerals.

And gets serenaded by the sound of crickets.

Can we get it over with and declare Sanity dead now?

I'd Like to be a Good Cook.

If anyone consistently liked what I made. And if I ever thought up a meal more than ten minutes before it was supposed to be done.

You Are a Learning Cook

You've got the makings of an excellent cook, and the desire to be one. But right now, you're just lacking the experience. You couldn't be a top chef yet, but you could be an apprentice.

Are You A Good Cook?

Me. Jupiter.

You Are From Jupiter

You are exuberantly curious - and you love to explore newness. Enthusiastic and optimistic, you get a kick out of stimulating intellectual discussions. Foreign cultures and languages fascinate you. You love the outdoors, animals, and freedom. Chances are you tend to exaggerate, so try to keep a lid on that. If you do, you'll continue to be known for your confidence, generosity, and sense of justice.

What Planet Are You From?

I passed. Did you?

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 7/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

Whom Will I Disappoint? Whom Will I Please? Whom Cares?

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 60% Conservative, 40% Liberal Social Issues: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal Fiscal Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal Ethics: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal Defense and Crime: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

The questions were sort of leading and limiting. I do think that abortion is wrong since it really kills somebody, and a woman could make something good out of a trauma by giving some childless parents a baby to adopt, but I think making abortion illegal across the board is extreme. I think a company's main responsibility is to it's shareholders, but any entity that has that much power has a great opportunity to do some good in the world, and I wish they would. I think social security is fine, but it would be awful nice to give people the choice to opt out. I think gay people should be able to do whatever they want, but they need to be careful in trusting any government to recognize their marriages on paper. What if the country makes a radical turn for the worse? Should anyone need or want government permission to marry anyway? As far as affirmative action and the like, I don't think anybody deserves "special" status above and beyond their inalienable rights to succeed or fail just like anyone else. Maybe it's the optimist in me, but if Maya Angelou or Oprah could make it with all the trouble they faced in their lives, anybody could. They're not godesses, just people. I think the death penalty is a good thing and should be used more often for child pornographers and abusers, rapists, and torturers. So there.

From Zenari. Now to see if I pass 8th grade math, what planet I am, and whether I am a good cook.

Spoon-Bending

At first I was skeptical, and when I watched the beginning of the video he just had "Fraud" written all over him. But he really does it. If it's not paranormal, maybe it's one of those quantum physics things we just don't understand.

Please Tell Me I'm Not a Tuna Sandwich!

Maybe I didn't answer the questions right because I hate to stop what I'm doing to eat. It's a pain in the butt to find something creative to eat. Usually, I get an apple, then some crackers, then a water, then I decide it's time to eat something real. Usually that is wrapping some bread around some peanut butter. Can I get back to whatever it was that was more important than sustenance now?

You Are a Tuna Fish Sandwich

Some people just don't have a taste for you. You are highly unusual. And admit it, you've developed some pretty weird habits over the years. You may seem a bit unsavory from a distance, but anyone who gives you a chance is hooked! Your best friend: The Club Sandwich Your mortal enemy: The Turkey Sandwich

What Kind of Sandwich Are You?

A Curse and a Blessing (or Thought You Might Like to Know Part 3)

It's both a curse and a blessing that eyebrows grow back. If you have two fighting caterpillars above your eyes that would make a Russian dictator squirm, then it's a curse. If you have a kid who got a bit curious with the razor, then it's a blessing.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

This is the way we burn the grass.

Burn the grass.

Burn the grass.
This is the way we burn the grass,
So er-ligh in the mornin'.

Mike Gravel?

Never heard of him. But he's for the Fair Tax.

P.S. I've been way too incendiary today. I hope I don't have to pay for it tomorrow.

Peaceful Protest 2

All the way back on March 4, but this stuff doesn't make the news, so people have to go looking for it. Apparently I didn't get the memo, but the road to peace is paved with stones thrown at conservatives. Exclusive: Karl Rove Heckled And Pelted With Rocks
(03/04/07) WASHINGTON - White House aide Karl Rove came face to face with angry protesters after speaking to the Young Republican Club at American University Tuesday night, with about 20 students lying down in front of his car.

Student Josh Goodman told The Washington Post other students kicked Rove's car, "and tried to stop it as best they could."

Goodman, an AU junior, said he and others wanted to make a "citizens arrest" of the presidential adviser.

This is exclusive eyewitness video of the incident. This low-res video was captured on a cell phone.

Peaceful Protest

There are ways to disagree. This ain't one of them.

Thought You Might Like to Know part 2....

I firmly believe if John Denver had looked more like Johnny Depp and less like Oliver from the Brady Bunch, more people would be gettin' down to "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" , and crying along with "Wildfire" entirely free from shame. I'm certain the girls would.

So now you know.

Preparing for the Zombocolypse

The other night I asked my husband what would scare him more, seeing a clown coming down our street at midnight, or seeing a zombie. He said he would be more fearful of the clown. You never know what to expect from clowns, but you know that a zombie is just out looking for brains. Every time he buys something I question, he tells me how valuable it will be when the zombies come. He dreams of scenarios where he's protecting civilization from the hourds of undead. All with humor of course.

I thought it was only my husband blurring the lines of fantasy and reality.

Then Zombiehunters.org comes along. I guess he has a few zombist friends that turned him on to this new organization. Their motto is "We make dead things deader."

Here's a little FAQ from the website:

Q: Do you really think Zombies are real or is this some sort of zombie movie fan site?

A: Zombie Squad realizes that it is quite possible for someone to live their entire lives without encountering the undead nuisance. However, we hold fast to the belief that if you are prepared for a scenario where the walking corpses of your family and neighbors are trying to eat you alive, you will be prepared for almost anything.

Zombie Squad is very serious about promoting public awareness of the need for survival preparation and contingency planning.

And here's a nifty powerpoint presentation that wisely reminds the more soft-hearted among us, that the undead aren't just in need of a big hug.

All the funny aside, after reading the site, they are actually a very charitable organization. Maybe we'll start a troop of Zombie Scouts.

Sounds Like Me

I did a little experiment with some of my friend's and family's names. It wasn't at all right. My husband sounded like Nelson Mandela, when he's really more like Ash Williams from Evil Dead.

Anyhoo. Here's me.

There are 22 letters in your name.
Those 22 letters total to 108
There are 9 vowels and 13 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:

Greek	Female	Feminine form of Stephen: Crown; victorious.
French	Female	Crowned in victory.

Your number is: 9

The characteristics of #9 are: Humanitarian, giving nature, selflessness, obligations, creative expression.

The expression or destiny for #9:
The expression that you exhibit is represented bythe number 9. Your talents center in humanistic interests and approaches. You like to help others as you were intended to be the 'big brother or big sister' type. You operate best when you follow your feelings and sense of compassion, and allow yourself to be sensitive to the needs of others. You work well with people, and have the potential to inspire. This suggests that you could successfully teach or counsel. Creative ability, imagination and artistic talent (often latent) of the highest order are present in this expression. It's possible that you're not using or developing all of these capabilities at this time. Some of your talents may have been used at an earlier time in your life, and some may still be latent. Be aware of your capabilities, so that you can make use of them at appropriate times.

If you are able to achieve the potential of your natural expression in this life, you are capable of much human understanding and have a lot to give to others. Your personal ambitions are likely to be maintained in a very positive perspective, never losing sight of an interest in people, and a sympathetic, tolerant, broad-minded and compassionate point of view. You are quite idealistic, and disappointed at the lack of perfection in the world. You have a strong awareness of your own feeling as well as those of others. Friendships, affection, and love are extremely important.

Undeveloped or ignored, the negative side of the 9 expression can be very selfish and self-centered. If you do not actively involve yourself with work that benefits others, you may tend to express just the opposite characteristics. It is your role to be very involved with other people and their needs, but it may be difficult for you achieve this role. Aloofness, lack of involvement, and a lack of sensitivity mark the low road of this expression.

Your Soul Urge number is: 5

A Soul Urge number of 5 means:
The 5 soul urge or motivation would like to follow a life of freedom, excitement, adventure and unexpected happening. The idea of travel and freedom to roam intrigues you. You are very much the adventurer at heart. Not particularly concerned about your future or about getting ahead, you can seem superficial and unmotivated.

In a positive sense, the energies of the number 5 make you very adaptable and versatile. You have a natural resourcefulness and enthusiasm that may mark you as a progressive with a good mind and active imagination. You seem to have a natural inclination to be a pace-setter. You are attracted to the unusual and the fast paced.

You may be overly restless and impatient at times. You may dislike the routine work that you are engaged in, and tend to jump from activity to activity, without ever finishing anything. You may have difficulty with responsibility. You don't want to be tied down to a relationship, and it may be hard to commit to one person.

Your Inner Dream number is: 4

An Inner Dream number of 4 means:
You dream of being a very solid citizen that people can depend upon. You strive for organization and predictable order. You want to be recognized as a person with a plan and the discipline to make that plan work like clockwork.

My New Koi Pond

I'd like to thank my husband for helping me roll out that gigantic boulder that had been sitting for two weeks at the bottom of the hole I dug. I'd also like to thank him for helping me put the liner in. He did a great job on the rocks that face the road. We wanted them to be nice and flat and stable so the kids could sit on them to watch and feed the water animals we will be enjoying.


But I am tremendously proud that I did the rest of it by myself- clearing out the red rock, digging the hole, hauling big stones from the back and side yards, and adding the soil and the plants.

Isn't it pretty?

Bullfrog Tadpole Grows Up

I don't pay attention to them much, but my daughter takes care of her animals pretty well. She gets on the internet and finds out what they eat and what kind of water they need and just does it. She's had a crayfish named Larry for about six months who's molted twice and seems to be trucking along just fine. She's got a couple of mail order leopard frog tadpoles in her frog tank. In another tank she's been keeping some bullfrog tadpoles that she collected at Grandma's house in Indiana. Yesterday she found the male (Billy) dead underneath some rocks in the tank. But Cindy up there sprouted front legs this morning and was floating on a lego ship that Josie made for her. I hope that Josie will let her live out the remainder of her life in our new koi pond, and I'll appeal to whatever little bit of compassion the kid has, but if not, and her frog dies, she may learn a valuable lesson. If the frog lives a good long time under Josie's care like little Larry, then I'll learn a valuable lesson.

Today's Letters

Here is Josie's letter with her drawing of a manta ray on the back. Jake wrote a beautiful one too. His handwriting is so much better, but I put it in the box to send before I realized I hadn't taken a picture.

The Tears are Coming Again

Why is it that some children are born so perfect, beautiful, and happy, with good parents and a safe home, only one day for their brain to flip over on them and cause them internal misery that no one seems to understand? The tears are back. She forgot her left from her right and she cried. Breakfast wasn't what she wanted and she cried. I tried to role play how to properly apologize, and she smiled, shivered, clasped her hands together, and, with her eyes wide open, cried.

We can still talk for now. Maybe I can get her to understand what is physically going on with her body, and get her to see that she has anxiety and depression, but it's something you can work through rationally. Maybe people really don't do that so well. I've forgotten how it was before the medication. It was a lot harder on her than I remember.

Thought You Might Like to Know....

....that when I make macaroni and cheese I invariably begin singing the words "macaroni and cheese" to the tune of "Happy Birthday to You". It's fun. Try it.

Macaroni and Cheese.
Macaroni and Cheese.
Macaroni,
Macaroni,
Macaroni and Cheese.

Now maybe it will get stuck in your head when you make dinner for the kiddie's and I will have started an annoying little fad.

So now you know.

Bad. Bad. Bad. Grass.

If you have this stuff, just move. It's easier than cutting it down and digging it up. It has been an accomplice in the endangerment of my children. Cars can't see them when they come down the driveway.

What the hell do I do with this? See that little "fire pit"?

An Old Song of Mine

One of my homeschool homies wrote an eloquent post about trains, and his memory of them, which got me thinking about them too.

I recorded this song (along with four others) in 1995. Actually Glenn and Jonathan Reynolds recorded it for me with their pal Doug Wienstein. I think I still owe them a case of beer. In 2002, Glenn put it on disc for me. In all the years between, I hadn't gone looking for the recording, because I tend to cringe when I hear myself. When I actually did listen to it, I thought it sounded pretty good. It sounds pretty good to me today.

I did have a tendency to sing everything a bit to loudly with a bit too much vibrato, and I think I tried to cram in a few more words than the song needed, and I could have had someone play guitar besides myself, and.....well, you better listen now because I will probably take it down tomorrow.

Since I can't find a way to embed it, click this here purple word.

Are We Labeling Schizophrenics as Autistic?

Pardon me while I ramble on about a bunch of stuff that confuses me.

In this article, Cho's relative states that he was given a diagnosis of autism when he was young. I wonder what his behaviors were and what kind of testing was done. I'm sure there are some behaviors of psychopaths ( or maybe schizophrenics) and autistics that are similar. Forgive me, I don't know the DSM IV for all of these things, I'm no Dr. Helen, but I know that autism in children used to be called childhood schizophrenia. It seems possible to misdiagnose schizophrenia as autism too. A paranoid fear of the people around you could make you behave in an autistic manner. You would avoid eye contact, be a loner, be highly sensitive to a lot of environmental stimuli because of a high level of anxiety. Conversely, you could be highly unresponsive to the environment around you due to existing in a dream world. Maybe you would avoid talking to others to the point that your speech is impeded, as Cho's very obviously was. These behaviors go under the autism umbrella. Autistics also suffer from sometimes violent and dramatic meltdowns. Do schizophrenics do the same thing? Is this also bi-polar behavior? Of course a person could be diagnosed with both disorders. How terrible. But autism carries with it a lot of co-morbid conditions like anxiety disorder and bi-polar disorder.

This case really brings home to me why it is so important to get the proper diagnosis for your child, especially if they are violent. You get the diagnosis so that you can get the proper treatments, not so you can go "Hey, I know why Bobby's weird. He's autistic," then leave it at that and release him into the world, where he could still be a danger to himself and others. It seems like that's what Cho's parents did.

The behavioral problems associated with autism can be helped with diet, medications, occupational therapies, and social skills groups. Sometimes as a highly functioning autistic child grows up they become more aware of themselves and their relationship to their environment, they become better able to move through the world by making adjustments. I'm not saying that autistic people can't be violent, but I don't think a psychotic person could do that kind of adjusting. They have lost touch with reality, and need some major interventions and medications. And they don't need to be let loose at a University.

Yikes! I'm a DOOH!-fus

When demonstrating to your young son how the prongs on a dog's shock collar can dig into the animal's neck, by wrapping it around your own neck, make sure it's not turned on at the highest setting. Or at least whisper your instrUCK!-tions.

Mmmm. Zoloft.

I know I'll catch crap for this. Anything for a funny I always say. Believe me, when you see your kids sitting around with their friends and discussing their diagnosis and medications, there's nothing left to do but laugh. Gotta keep that sense of humor.

Mad TV "Public School House Rock"

Chrome-Me, and Other Self Portraits in Pencil

Here's the original photo that I used as a reference for my drawing. The images below are all of the actual drawing, and not the photo. The thing that surprises me is how realistic the drawing can look with photo imaging software.

This is the drawing with a chrome effect.

Same portrait with a watery effect.

The original drawing un-retouched.

solarized

Solarized on high.

Colored edges. And the one below is solarized on medium.

11 Years

11 years together. What does it mean? I could tell you all the mooshy stuff, but that's none of your business. Since it's 6:17 am and I have nothing better to do, besides sleep, I'll do a little mathematical study of the 11th anniversary.

In 11 years we have shared a lot:

2 babies

7 dwellings

20 vacations

10 cars (sheesh, that counts the $50 Ford Fairmont as well as the MR2)

5 pets (lets not count fish, kay?)

3 surgeries, 4 hospitalizations (counting childbirth and NICU)

572 rolls of toilet paper

1716 loads of laundry (I'm guessing more than that though)

12045 meals

4015 loads of dishes

8030 showers with 286 bottles of shampoo

264,000 miles driven

12,045 hours of TV

572 inches of hair

Brushed our teeth 16,000 times

(About 100 tubes of toothpaste)

Shoes! I don't even want to go there!

564,985,342,890,456,792,453,000 germs give or take a few mil.

76 colds? For a family of four 2 colds per year. 14 for the son. 18 for the daughter. 22 for Dad. 22 for Mom.

How many sleepless nights? I don't want to go there either.

What Ever Happened to Guys Like Stevie?

I'm so sick of hearing about bitches and ho's. Once upon a time, black music was for gettin' on your boogie. That's the way I liked it. Uh huh. So take a listen to one of my faves.

Yes, this is food.

This is haggis.

These little guys are haggis balls.

You're sitting with your family in a pretentious restaraunt in Nashville drinking fine wine and eating escargot (really). On that day you've had four beers, two bourbon and 7's, something called a cherry bomb, about 58 holler and swollers, and more Merle Haggard than you care to remember. You try to pretend for a moment or two that you are a civilized family, when some loudmouth at another table declares how much she adores haggis balls.

You know that fit of laughter that hits you so hard you can no longer move or make a sound? The kind of laughter where you sit there with your mouth wide open and your eyes transfixed while your body turns to a hopeless mass of gelatin that shakes and wheezes? That seizure has taken over your whole family, and you stare at your dad just waiting for the Ravenswood Vintner's Blend Merlot to come spewing from his nose. You have a mouthful of $28 steak with hollandaise sauce, and hope that it's not pouring between your fingertips as you use your hands as a dam across your clenching teeth. Then the waiter comes over to fill your water glasses and stares wonderingly at the family with that guess-I-had-to-be-there look.

Well. I guess you had to be there.

Letters to Sailors

I had the kids dictate their letters to me, then I wrote them out and they copied them with their best penmanship. I love what Jake wrote here.

I thought this was a pretty good likeness of Jake, don't you? See the circles around his eyes due to allergies? The messy hair due to homeschooling? The sword and the shield he uses to defeat laundry monsters? (I'll have to tell you about laundry monsters later.)

Josie's handwriting was beautiful. At the bottom she drew some whales.

This is such a great way to teach my kids letter writing, improve their penmanship, teach them compassion, and maybe give a soldier or sailor a little laugh. If you want to do this with your kids, go to www.anysoldier.com and pick somebody from the list. Put a stamp on your letter just like you would if you were sending domestic mail.

I Love Scott Adams.

Hubby and I were talking about how nice it would be to invent a Shrinkerator. It would take all the big things that get in your way and make them nice and small. Like when you moved to a new house, you could just shrink all your stuff and carry it over. Storage would be such a snap. I reminded Dear Husband that any time a convenience item is invented that we just can't live without, it will become regulated and taxed. He said "No, because we could just Shrinkerate Congress and put them in the Cuisenart. Rurrrr! Rurrr! Rurrr!"

Then I read todays Dilbertblog. It would be much more fun to keep Congress actual size, that way it would be easier to get that field of rakes scene in HD.

This Would Scare Me.

Family set upon by angry bicyclists in San Francisco.


The other side of the story.

Here's some video of one of these protests.

Do these people want to change minds, or just piss everybody off?

Just watch it all if you have the patience. There's a very sensible motorist towards the end who gets treated like crap. They are driving against traffic in several places, and creating mayhem in general. I doubt the cause is to promote eco-friendly transportation. I'm actually pretty impressed with the patience level of motorists in San Francisco. Nobody made target practice out of these guys.

To Fritz:

I agree that everyone should chill out.

What I saw on that video wasn't chilling out. There were people stopping traffic, driving the wrong way, daring motorists to hit them by standing in front of their bumpers and blocking their way, throwing beer bottles in their car windows. I get the sense this this is not how you personally behave, but I think many of these people in Critical Mass go too far and are out there on bicycles joyfully inciting frustration, fear, and rage on innocent people who are simply trying to get from point A to point B without hurting themselves or anybody else.

I would certainly be inclined to have a reasoned debate on the issue of cyclists and motorists being able to abide by the laws and safely share the road. I have an immediate family member who once was an avid cyclist and is now an amputee, because of a senseless accident with a truck full of idiots.

But the way to fight idiocy is not with more idiocy.

What's Up With the Cost Thing?

I don't know why these health studies always tell us how much of a cost a particular ailment is to the greater society. In this case the study is about autism. If we catch it early we can create a whole bunch of new expensive programs and special schools and how much is that going to cost? I'm truly searching for a reason why parents of autistic children need to feel that responsibility for their child being such a burden on society's wallet, they have much more immediate and personal needs to attend to.

Can I Just Say Something?!

I'm just so freaking tired of my kids talking talking talking talking when I'm trying to tell them to do something, I could just put duct tape over their non-stop lip-flapping mouths! Or put superglue on their precious little lips and just smash. them. together.

Or I could do what Dharma doeswhen she gets really desperate and get out the broom and spin it around me in a circle and say "Out! Out! Out! OF MY SPACE!" Take that barking dog with you too! AND Get A JOB! But they wouldn't hear me because they keep talking talking talking.

Now, if you tell them to be quiet (with extreme prejudice) they start to cry. Then it's just crying crying crying. You can only stand the spray of your own spittle so much as you shush them for the fourty-seventh time in three minutes. Oh and they never hear you when they're crying.

Oh goodness! Now the dog is barking barking barking. I need a drink.

Once I get past the aluminum wonderbra, and the makeup, I so hear what this lady is saying. She must be a mother. God help her.



I'm just venting here. No actual children or animals were harmed in the making of this post, or even shushed, believe it or not.

On a good note, my niece just informed us that she is ready to babysit now. She may have a down payment on a home of her own by the years' end.

Our First Roller Derby

Last night we went to our first roller derby bout. I took pictures but they didn't really come out all that well. So I just posted this one from Wikipedia, because it's super cool. Dad couldn't come because he and his fellow keyboard mercenaries were saving America from the ravages of poorly trained web developers.

Well he missed out, because his favorite things are heavily made up death chicks in fishnet hose. He prefers them accessorized with automatic weaponry, but I don't think he would have been too let down. These girls may have to get permits to carry around their own hips and shoulders if a democrat gets wind of their lethal nature. The EMT had to come out to the center of the rink at one point. A few times the children had an opportunity to study the effects of speed, rotation, inertia, and deflection, and what a nasty run a girl can get in her stocking when she goes careening into a crowd on a waxed floor at 50mph. I also pointed out to them how people in crowds naturally revert into a sort of fetal position when this happens. My kids were on the other side of the wall, because I don't believe they use that instinct enough.

They understood only the basic rules, because I taught them while we were in the car all the things I had learned on Wikipedia 15 minutes before we left.

We were proud to have our own jammer friend to cheer for. She was fast too. Like butta. Josie told our jammer at the end of the bout that she won it for her team. It looked that way to me too. Josie says she'd like to be in roller derby when she grows up. I had to remind her that she couldn't issue death threats to people when they pushed her from behind. She has to work on that, you know.

Unfortunately for Dad, there was a burlesque show during the break. Unfortunately for me I had no help sheilding their innocent little eyes from buxom women ripping each other's clothes off. I told him to cover his eyes. This is his half-hearted attempt. Nothing was really exposed, and the kids had their backs turned. I hear the roller derby will be getting more family friendly.

I thought in the car about how fun it would be to be a roller derby girl. I could do it if I wasn't scared of pain, could skate really fast, had no problems showing my black panties to strangers, didn't cry when I got a run in my stocking, and was any good at sports. Yep. Then I could do it.

Found Nancy Sinatra's Website

Here's one of my favorites.

The Kitchen's Done!

Here's a "before" shot. It was really not such a bad kitchen, but me and white have a big problem with each other. Mainly, white likes to be clean. I also can't stand melamine because it delaminates when something steamy sits beneath it, and if water gets on the toe kicks they warp and buckle. That's what was going on here.

Another thing is that our house is loaded with pretty woods: hardwood floors and cherry window surrounds. A white kitchen like this seemed like an afterthought. So since we're going to live in this house until we die of old age, we figured we would fix it the way we like it.

Here it is!

Whew. We won't be doing that again.

New Picture

Since my daughter told me I looked like a rock star in this picture, I decided to add it to my profile.

Dear Husband,

I guess you can see the laundry is still on the pool table, but I have a very good reason today that has nothing to do with reading blogs, emails and magazines. It has nothing to do with worrying over my kids' education either.

I got up this morning and fed the kids and got Jake to do a page of math. After that, I went out and cleaned the dog poop out of the back yard.

The grass was very high so I mowed it first on the highest setting, then I mowed again with a lower setting. I got out the leaf blower and blew all the grass and debris off the driveway, sideporch, and basketball porch.

Then I moved the dishwasher over to the corner of the side porch because we are only closet Tennesseans, and I'm too damn lazy to put it on the front porch anyway. I gathered all of the sticks and put them in the fire pit, and took the grill cover round to the trash.

Did you know how mildewy the swingset is? Well, I put tilex all over it and scrubbed it real good, just in case anybody ever decides they want to use it. Then I cleaned the floor of the screened in porch with the push broom and the hose.

Then it was noon, so I knew the kids needed to eat. We went to McDonald's, then we went to the post office to pick up boxes to send our soldier stuff. Oh, I forgot, before that we went to the comic book store and let the owner pick out a stack of comics that he thought the soldiers would like. After the post office, we did some grocery shopping.

When we got home, and after I put the groceries away, I moved some of the dishes that were crowding our downstairs bar up to the kitchen since we will have a sink up there tonight. Yay! I also picked the living room up.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you why our room is so messy and the pool table is still covered with clothes, and ask you what you wanted for dinner. Oh, and I'm afraid I won't be performing the dance of the seven veils tonight. I hope you understand.

Love,
Your Sweetie

P.S. The air in my left side back tire is low.

Carnival of Homeschooling

The Carnival's up.

I don't know how many of my homeschooling homies read this, but it's weekly. It's not just homeschoolers talking about why they're homeschoolers, which I like.

Rest in Peace Petey

Rats are greatly under-appreciated as pets, but our family really loved this little guy. I think he loved us too. Yesterday we were holding him and feeding him from a spoon because he was too weak to get up on his hind legs and eat with his own "hands". After he was done eating, he washed his face, kind of laying on his side as we pet him. Then he groomed my hands too, just to make sure I was clean.

At a potluck last night, a lady was cutting flowers in the kitchen to be put in the church sanctuary. She gave me a clipping from her forsythia to take home. As we pulled in, we picked a spot to plant it on the side of the house. This morning, we buried our little friend in that spot, and planted the forsythia there too.

Josie Tickling Petey the Rat

How Do Kids Like This Go to School?

Ate breakfast. Did a math page. Then read them the fable "Fox's Snack".

Jake wanted to act it out. Josie didn't. I sent Jake upstairs to get a bag for a prop. Then Josie decided she wanted to play. We used an afghan for the bag.

First Jake was the fox, I was the lady of the house, and Josie was all the other characters. The dog acted the part of the dog in the story. You should have seen her all wrapped up in the afghan, struggling to get out and "eat" the "fox". Next we played it so that Jake got to be all of the other characters in the story.

After that, Josie wanted to write Part Two of the story. So she paced all around the room while I wrote what she dictated. She added a cat to the story. Four pages later, I asked if she wanted to draw a picture for part 2. She said she didn't. So I did. At that point she thought drawing a picture was a grand idea, and drew two, embellishing the story a bit while she doodled. She went upstairs to take a shower, and Jake asked if he could write Part Three. He dictated three pages to me and then he illustrated his story.

Whew. This was about 3 hours of narrating, writing, reading, drawing, acting, reciting, and dictation, with a little math thrown in.

A school teacher would have to get past the fact that my daughter says "no" to something. Just begin doing it anyway, and she'll join in. A teacher would have to accept that my kids dislike writing at this time. No way I would ever expect her to sit down and take dictation. A teacher would have to let my kid put another kid in a bag and attack them in order to act out a story! Heaven forbid! Running in the classroom? No way. Would I want them to do any of these things in a real classroom situation? Never.

So, did they far exceed their former public school's and my own expectations of them today? Yep. Am I proud of them and hopeful? Yes indeedy.

So Far, Today Rocks.

It's 12:23.

The kids are dressed.

Their rooms are cleaned.

The rat cage is clean.

The banana orange smoothie recipe has been made.

Breakfast was eaten.

The "Tower of Babel" was told.

Story questions were answered.

Drawings were made (did you know the tower had window boxes with flowers? Me neither.)

Summaries were written in cursive by both children. Jake wrote an especially long paragraph.

Josie ran upstairs. "What are you doing, Josie?".... "I had to finish cleaning my room!"

No whining, fighting, or complaining.

KNOCK. ON. WOOD.

Josie's Evangelism

"Mama, did you hear about the fish that plays soccer?!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes! There really is a Koi fish that plays soccer!"

"That can't be true."

"Yes, Mama." (She opens her Ask magazine.) "Let me read about him to you so that you can believe!"

Desperado

Listen.


Here's the CD.

Think You're Overworked?

I was looking up pictures of Burros for my kids. There was one in the storybook we were reading and they weren't sure what they looked like. We came across this picture, and they wanted me to blog it. Poor thing.

Kitchen Update

It's been 10 weeks since the cabinets came. They spent five weeks as strange furniture in my living room. They've been halfway installed in my kitchen for another five weeks while we wait for countertops. The countertops have arrived at the installers. They are being inspected. Monday they will call to set up an installation date.

I don't know if I will jump for joy when my kitchen is finished. I think I will just be glad it's finally over.

Of course I will invite my friends over for cocktails (or tea) and hor d'ouvres when I'm better acquainted with my new kitchen, and relearn how to cook.

I'll post photos soon of the whole process.

That Video Down There and Some More Ramblings About Gender My Husband is Sick Of

That video down there is by a band called Mika. I heard them on the local radio station and thought it was Queen. This got me thinking about Freddie Mercury and his quite palatable gayness. Except for the short-shorts. But that's just bad taste for any man, you can almost give him the gay pass for it. I would be more troubled by a straight man in short shorts than I would be around a gay man in short shorts. Could you imagine some guy in aerobics wear hitting on you at a bar? I can feel the Killian's Irish Red coming out my nose just thinking about it. Otherwise Freddie Mercury's gayness was just part of the entertainment, and he pulled it off in a fairly masculine way compared to some.

Strangely enough I will admit that Tim Curry was oddly alluring in Rocky Horror Picture Show. I wouldn't say he was palatable because the character was a bit disconcerting as well. Sex itself was a bit troubling to the teenage me who went to the movie with my sister. (Add to that the whole Rocky Horror Virgin thing, made me wish I had a fake ID, and some clue about how to mix something that would knock me out.) Anyway, he sure could sing in that corset, with the garter belts, and the fishnets.

Rock is full of androgeny. Robert Palmer, Roger Daltry (bee-ooo-tee-ful), Adam Ant, Duran Duran, Mik Jagger, David Bowie....I could go on and on. Girls fell all over themselves for these lovely guys with puffy shirts and ribbons in their hair. What is that all about? You know the straight guys did it because the girls loved it. Girls buy records. Girls fueled the whole Rock and Roll industry. As the music got harder sounding, the boys seemed to get softer looking. It's some Rock n' Roll sexual conspiracy I think. Someone in the industry got the whole psychology of attraction figured out. I don't really think women want to emasculate men, but maybe women want to see a little of themselves up there on stage with the testosterone.

None of this offers me any clue as to why I have a problem with female drummers.

P.S. I know I misspelled "Freddie" on that post. But heaven help me, this HTML bullcrap won't let me change anything. Well, so what your image of me as perfection incarnate has been a bit sullied?

Freddy Returns

Cute Letter to a Soldier

My little boy spent some good time on this letter. He tells where he's from and a little about himself. He took special care to separate his words so that they could be read. I love the picture he drew to go along with the letter. It's a "find silly things" drawing. The tree has lost a tooth. Has a soldier flying out of it, a "firefly" buzzing around it, and a superhero acorn with a cape and "zippy lines" trailing behind it as it flies from the tree. There is some gum, a tennis ball, and an airplane in the tree too.

A soldier on the other side of the world will read this letter from my kid.

Let it Be

That phrase has a few meanings. Let it happen... Leave it alone... Amen.

This morning I just let us be. I try to do this often, but I get afraid that things will go undone and my kids will deteriorate intellectually, if I don't monkey with them. In the winter I monkey a lot with worksheets, assignments, and activities. Now that it's getting springy I'm letting it be a bit.

It's funny what happens. This morning Jake came downstairs to tell me that I really am good at drawing, and that all the portraits I have on the walls are nice. I told him that when I was his age I took an interest in drawing. It was something I practiced all the time because I enjoyed it. At this point he picked up his recorder that he's been playing all week and asked me if I could find a place to put it that the dog wouldn't chew on it.

I asked him if he wanted to find some recorder music online to listen to. We went online and found "That Bach song. DOO-DOO-DOOO........." It's Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring I told him. I discovered a few really simple and sublime pieces by Bach like Minuet in G, and officially changed my mind about him being the Eddie Van Halen of classical music. You know the guitar show off with too many notes.

Later this morning we went outside and burned some yard junk. While he was blowing on a stick to get the fire started up, he asked me what a pun was. That's a fine question for a 7 year old to ask, huh? I told him I'd let him know when we heard one, but they're used a lot in knock knock jokes.

Finding your joy, Bach, building a proper fire, and puns. All before lunch. Because I let it be. Amen.

One Woman and a Shovel

This little corner in our landscaping was just busted up red rock. I think it was supposed to look like lava rock, but it just wasn't pretty.

This morning I decided to look up how to build a frog pond. To build a frog pond you just need a dig a very shallow space that you fill with lilies and water. Eventually the little froggies move in.

We had heard a rumor that some former owners had a frog pond here and filled it in because it got too loud. This corner is right in front of what was a little girl's room, so I can imagine it bothered her. Now, my little girl is in that room and she is not bothered in the least by the sound of frogs, the feel of frogs, or their taste when she kisses them on the lips. Right now she has some bullfrog tadpoles that she collected at the grand's, so maybe they can live in there when the water's right.

I am so digressing.

I started digging at 8am. By about 9:30 I began to discover some huge river rocks under there. By 10 when Ray came out to see me he said "Wouldn't it be funny if you dug up the old pond?" By 10:15, I was finding stones in patterns of circles with spaces beneath them that I could shine a flashlight into.

I don't think it was a frog pond that they dumped all those stones into. It's deep and wide enough to be a koi pond.

I'm not finished pulling out stones, but I may need a pain reliever, and I definitely need a shower.

It's funny how I never seem to have the energy to carry the folded laundry up the stairs, but get me curious about something, and there's no end to the heavy labor I will do to get to the bottom of it.

Oh,Deer.

It's very interesting what my dog can find to play with on the Grandparents' property. Yep, there's a hoof on the end of that. I don't know where the leg's previous owner is, but I have a feeling he's not getting around much anymore.

Speaking of Feng Shui

Apparently the wisdom center of my living room is a shoe closet. Guess I need to get me some smarter pairs.

More Than I Thought They Could Handle

Yesterday my mother called at about 1:00 to tell me to turn on Sundance Channel and see these little boys in Africa doing some kind of routine involving dumbbells. Well, I missed it, but I left the TV on that channel, and left to clean my room. I popped in and saw that Josie was watching a sub titled program about illegal immigrants called "Wetback". It showed young people from Central America who were trying to cross into Mexico. Touching on police brutality, the dangers of jumping trains, rampant urban crime and gangs.

Of course it was Sundance, so the sympathy was for the illegal immigrants, some that crossed the Rio Grande at the end, and we talked about that sympathy, and how important it is to be compassionate to people who suffer. We also talked about how these people were breaking the law, and that sometimes laws seem harsh, but they are there to protect us. I told her some of the bad people who were hurting the good people in Mexico and Central America can come over our border too, so that's why our border patrol sends people back. The program was favorable to our border patrol, showed them to be respectful to the people they detain, as opposed to the Mexican police who beat and robbed two of the immigrants in the documentary.

Anyway, I was shocked she sat through the whole thing and really took it in.

Later some friends came over and we watched the show about Oprah's school for girls in South Africa. I'm not sure any of the kids understood the significance of the school to the little girls, or how those girls suffered in their own lives. We were trying to make the point to our children that they should appreciate their blessings. When you have a daughter who breaks into tears because you tell her it's time to go to the grocery store, you need a bit of ammuniton too. Maybe the show will marinate in their subconcious for a while and come out in a couple of years when they're developmentally able to understand it.

I went to Blockbuster and picked up "The Prestige" and we all watched it. Yes, Grandparents, the children sat through the whole thing. I'm certain they didn't get all the plot twists (I sure didn't), but afterwards Jake was talking his head off about electricity. He was a little outraged at one point during the movie asserting that "Magic is not real!" When it was apparent some real magic had occured.

I never expect my kids to have any attention span. That's unfortunate for them, because if I whittle down their education to suit what I believe they can handle, then it's like I'm spoonfeeding them. That's starving my children.

P.S. Dharma's coming over today to help me Feng Shui my house. I've been reading a book, and apparently I'm cutting the Chi's all over the place.

Don't Look Down!

Thought this was a cute little picture of my daughter and her current choice of reading materials. Notice the front says "Don't Look Down!". Just a clever warning that she might just be a girl.

"Ann Overboard!"

As a "conservative", for lack at the moment for a more appropriate word, I have to make the admission that we often crawl all over ourselves to prove to our "liberal" friends that we're nice people, who care for animals, plant trees, love our gay cousin Fred, drive a hybrid etc. Crap! I've even worn through a pair of Birkenstocks! Oh, the shame! (I won't get into the fact right now that I do not believe there are very many dyed in the wool liberals or conservatives out there. Most of us are individuals, and if we sit down long enough find that we agree on most fundamental things and just go about getting those things in a different way).

Anyway, sometime in the past 20 years or so the party of Abolition, Suffrage, and Civil Rights got tired of apologizing for itself and letting the other side define us, and started slinging the mud in the opposite direction. I don't know if this is a wise way to fight this war of ideologies, but some of that mudslinging is funny. Unless someone who speaks for me, starts slinging the really dirty kind of mud, and it gets on me, and I try to wash it off, and it leaves a stain, and I think people see it, you get what I mean.

Most humor comes from pointing out everyday people's little hypocrisies. Like the fact that the same people who are always demanding tolerance for other religious beliefs love to drive around with little fish with legs on their bumper. I think it's cute in a way, but it is hypocritical, why not wrap a pork rind around the star of David while you're at it? Oh, wait, that would be anti-semitic, and not really very funny. Sorry.

This is where Ann Coulter comes in. I guess she decided somewhere along the way to expose the hypocrisy of those who decry "First Amendment, First Amendment!" every time someone wants to do something rude and offensive to traditional folks, and then turn around and demand you go to rehab whe you say something that offends them. So she said something really rude. And not funny. So Ann yelled "Faggot" in a crowded theater, and some people got really bruised up trying to be the first one to the exit door. I'm sure it was entertaining to her. She loves this kind of controversy. Watching someone have a cardiac infarction over a the utterance of a word is usually high-comedy.

She's been making it her business for a while to throw verbal pies at her opponents. And for a while it was hi-larious. In the meantime she made some excellent points too. And her sharp wit is matched by no one. But this week she threw a real shit-pie and she knew what it was when she baked it up, this wasn't a gaffe, botched joke, or faux pas, she intentionally tossed that pie out there, and it got on everybody. I don't want that stuff on me.

She also gave the opposition ammunition for about 2800 news cycles, and I'm going to have to listen to that too.

One thing that's nice about the Republican Party (and at the moment there aren't very many nice things I can say), is that when somebody in the party says something "not funny", we generally condemn it. See Trent Lott, who was just confused IMHO. We don't have republicans in the Senate that were Klan wizards (Byrd), or folks who let their girlfriend drown in four feet of water because they were worried about their political future, and then have the nerve to buy a Portuguese water rescue dog and name him "Splash" (Kennedy). We have a few buffoons on our side, but you generally find that they are widely scolded for their buffoonery, and the media reports it, and they get on TV and apologize for it etc.

See the nice thing about the First Amendment, is that although it gives you the right to say any damn thing you want, it doesn't give you freedom from censure.

I don't think she should apologize to me. But I certainly won't defend her for what she said. She has the right to think it and say it. But she's not speaking for me anymore. I have the right to walk away any time I please, and as soon as my fellow denouncers manage to cram their way through the exit doors and come out like ground beef on the other end, I will be right behind.

On Vanishing

It's pretty late right now, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep if I don't journal my thinking a bit. And I thought maybe the things I'm thinking about will be beneficial to others, so I'll just put it out there on this little blog.

Lately, I've been sensing that something in me is vanishing. I've been getting the sense that I've neglected a part of me that I used to nourish before marriage and family and the unconventional choices I've made surrounding my children. I also have regrets about all the things I didn't finish or pursue; like my degree, a career, my art, my singing. I've been scared that there's a part of me that never really grew and it's already beginning to die.

So I've been saying to myself that I should never stop learning and striving. I should keep searching for that place where that part of me can continue to live. At the end of my life, I should be proud of how I lived, I should have found the answers, had some success and somebody should have something to say about me, otherwise what's the point?

That made sense to me, but at this moment I'm having a little epiphany.

What if tomorrow I couldn't sing? Well, lots of people can't sing and get along just fine. Singing is really a small thing after all, and I feel that there are a few musical family members that have passed who would forgive me for that sentiment. Why? Because there are so many ways to communicate love, and hopes and dreams besides singing. I'm not a bird after all. I'm a person with the power of speech.

What if tomorrow I couldn't speak? Thankfully, I write pretty well. I'm good at conveying emotions on paper, and getting my needs met would be easy if I had someone in range of my paper airplanes.

I'm also very good at drawing. I could make money that way. I already have done that. I draw people's children mainly. We all want to see someone we love all mapped out in pencil. There's something touching about it. That's why I do it.

But what if I lost the use of my hands and could no longer write, draw, work or speak? You know what my first worry would be? How could I let my family know I love them? That I'm so glad I'm not alone?

If I couldn't speak or sing or write or draw (or blog) I would still exist. I wouldn't vanish. You know why? Because I have my family. I have a husband who would still talk to me, even if I couldn't speak. I have children that would be close to me even if I couldn't chase them down. I have friends that would stick around even if I wasn't cracking them up. I know a few who have been there when I wasn't so funny.

See, the reason I want to sing, is to sing to somebody. I could sing to strangers, which I enjoy, and they can go home and forget me. I would have some attention. I would have a hobby. I would have a little thing that energizes me. Is writing a song for my husband less worthwhile? It's certainly not "blogworthy". Neither is writing a letter to my son and putting it in the mailbox for him to find, or drawing a blue jay for my daughter to put on her wall. It wouldn't matter to a lot of people. But it would sure matter a lot to the people that matter to me.

I've been so busy playing that nasty tape of fantasy, shame and regret to really tune in to the world around me, and I have been vanishing. I haven't been talking or listening or engaged. "What?" That's been my word lately. It's like I've been in a dream.

And tonight I had a moment when I realized something that seems so true about life, and helps keep things in perspective.

If I fell down at the end of it all because I had exhausted myself finding ways to feed my ego, at the expense of those who loved me, nothing I had ever done would make sense, because I never completely imprinted myself on anyone's heart, that's when I would truly vanish.

All Out of Whack

This past couple of months I've been walking around confused in my house and it's really starting to get to me.

In December we decided to replace our kiitchen countertops, appliances, and cabinets. Things moved along pretty smoothly and we received our cabinets on January 12th. The first cabinet out of the box was damaged, and the installers wouldn't begin until all of the cabinets were at the site, so we would have to have cabinets sitting all around our living room for about 3 more weeks. The actual install of the cabinets happened on February 9th. Not all the cabinets though. They couldn't hang the corner wall cabinets or anything attached to them until after the countertops were installed.

The Silestone guys came to measure around the 11th of February. After the template is made, it takes about 3 or 4 weeks to get your countertops installed. About 10 days after the man came out to make the template, the store called to tell me I owed $62 and the countertops would not be made until overages were paid. Okay. So the install date on the countertops is March 15th.

In the meantime we have been going up and down the stairs to make dinner and do the dishes. Ray gave in and temporarily installed the cooktop, but we have no kitchen sink right now. We do have a tiny one in the basement, which we have been using.

All of this is very inconvenient.

I don't believe in quantum physics at the moment, but I do think there is some merit to this Feng Shui thing. My toilets aren't working right, our computer is acting up, our printer/scanner has stopped working and my camera is falling apart. There's a strange smell in my daughter's room that I can't locate to clean. Lately, my dog has been running off when we open the door to let her in. The roomba keeps shutting down at weird times. And I'm tired tired tired.

I know. Somewhere there's a baby in Darfur crying for me.

I'm moving my couch tomorrow. Wish me luck.

What?

Hey all my homeschooling homies! Apparently our parental authority to educate as we please is being undermined again! Isn't this infringing on our freedom to assemble?

ATTACK ON HOME SCHOOL GROUPS In the last week we have had a rush of complaints from home school organizations from across the state. Home schools traditionally produce some of the best and brightest kids who achieve high results in the real world. As you may or may not know home school students are starting to team up and are becoming a more powerful group. They are starting to come together and do things like start sports teams and clubs that meet and interact with other more traditional students. Some home school groups and students have also been meeting in churches and Sunday school classrooms to get specialized teaching by a specialist in a common field of interest. An example might be a group of ten or fifteen home school students gathering together to hear a presentation or be taught about nuclear science from a nuclear scientist from Oak Ridge. I did a discussion one day about how our state government works for a similar group. Lately though these groups have come under attack. Codes inspectors have begun to shut these groups down in mass. The reason given is that when they meet they become "a school" and the churches and Sunday school class rooms that they meet in don't meet code for schools. Forget that these same rooms are much more packed every Sunday for church or Sunday school classes. Expect to hear more about this as time progresses. posted by TheRep @ 8:56 AM

This is from Rep. Stacey Campfield's blog.