New URL

You do realize I moved my blog, right? Here's the new address.

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Happy St. Plum Day

October 15 is the birthday of British comic writer P.G. Wodehouse (1881-1975), known to his friends as "Plum." He is the author of the wonderfully funny Jeeves and Wooster stories, known and enjoyed throughout the world.

Here is a fun video clip from the TV series, Jeeves and Wooster. In this clip, Bertie Wooster (Hugh Laurie) gives a demonstration of his musical talents by singing "Minnie the Moocher," which his valet, Jeeves (Stephen Fry), endures with pained but silent forbearance. Until, that is, his employer invites him to participate.

There are so many great quotes in Wodehouse....you can read some at random here. Below are a couple of passages from the Wodehouse novel I'm currently reading, "The Adventures of Sally."

"A democratic girl, pomposity was a quality which she thoroughly disliked; and though she loved him, she could not disguise from herself that, ever since affluence had descended upon him some months ago, her brother Fillmore had become insufferably pompous....

"It had taken Sally over an hour to persuade him to leave his apartment on Riverside Drive and revisit the boarding-house for this special occasion; and, when he had come, he had entered wearing such faultless evening dress that he had made the rest of the party look like a gathering of tramp-cyclists. His white waistcoat alone was a silent reproach to honest poverty, and had caused an awkward constraint right through the soup and fish courses. Most of those present had known Fillmore Nicholas as an impecunious young man who could make a tweed suit last longer than one would have believed possible; they had called him "Fill" and helped him in more than usually lean times with small loans: but tonight they had eyed the waistcoat dumbly and shrank back abashed."

~~~~~~

Later, while on a holiday in France, Sally watches in wonder as Jules (the lift operator) stands in frozen horror. Sally suggests to Ginger, an earnest red-headed Englishman who speaks just passable French, to help determine the cause of Jules' distress....

"There appears," said Sally, turning to her companion, "to be a hitch. Would you mind asking what's the matter? I don't know any French myself except 'oo la la!'"

The young man, thus appealed to, nerved himself to the task. He eyed the melancholy Jules doubtfully, and coughed in a strangled sort of way.

"Oh, esker... esker vous..."

"Don't weaken," said Sally. "I think you've got him going."

"Esker vous... Pourquoi vous ne... I mean ne vous... that is to say, quel est le raison..."

He broke off here, because at this point Jules began to explain. He explained very rapidly and at considerable length. The fact that neither of his hearers understood a word of what he was saying appeared not to have impressed itself upon him. Or, if he gave a thought to it, he dismissed the objection as trifling. He wanted to explain, and he explained. Words rushed from him like water from a geyser. Sounds which you felt you would have been able to put a meaning to if he had detached them from the main body and repeated them slowly, went swirling down the stream and were lost for ever.

"Stop him!" said Sally firmly.

The red-haired young man looked as a native of Johnstown might have looked on being requested to stop that city's celebrated flood.

"Stop him?"

"Yes. Blow a whistle or something."

Out of the depths of the young man's memory there swam to the surface a single word--a word which he must have heard somewhere or read somewhere: a legacy, perhaps, from long-vanished school-days.

"Zut!" he barked, and instantaneously Jules turned himself off at the main. There was a moment of dazed silence, such as might occur in a boiler-factory if the works suddenly shut down.

~~~~~~~~~~

Wodehouse was aware that not everyone held humorous fiction in high regard. In the introduction to The Week-End Book of Humorists, he laments:

I don't know if you have ever seen someone looking askance at something, but that is how the modern public looks at the authors of what is known in the trade as "light writing." In some states, I believe, it is legal to hunt them with dogs, and even in more humane localities they are scorned and sneered at. I happen to know that the fellow who wrote "Trouble Down at Tudsleigh" at the end of this book [himself --AB ] was referred to the other day in The New Yorker as a "burbling pixie." Well, you can't go calling a man a burbling pixie without lowering his morale. He frets. He refuses to eat his cereal. He goes about with his hands in his pockets and his underlip sticking out, kicking stones. The next thing you know, he has given up humor and is writing thoughtful novels analyzing social conditions.

~~~~~~~~~

I, for one, am glad he stuck with humor. Happy birthday, Plum!

A Tribute to the Matchless Columbus

So today is Columbus Day, on which we commemorate the arrival of Columbus and his crew in the Americas--what he thought was Asia. But I'd like focus on a different aspect of that journey.

A couple of years ago I wrote a variation on the traditional Columbus ditty which begins "In fourteen-hundred ninety two Columbus sailed the ocean blue..."

Everyone knows about his intent to find a western route to the Orient. Everyone knows about the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. Everyone knows that on October 12, 1492, one of the sailors sighted land, which Columbus dubbed San Salvador.

But I'll bet you didn't know that a few weeks later Columbus gave the world its first written record of tobacco use. In honor of that historic event, a new ditty is called for...

~~~~~~~~~~
In fourteen hundred ninety-two
Columbus saw the natives chew.
He grabbed his journal; his pen did fly!
“This leaf,” he wrote, “is for to die.”
He liked the taste; he liked the smell.
His shipmates were impressed as well.
On that fall day their dream came true–
You never saw a happier crew.
“By R.J. Reynolds!” Chris declared,
“E’en though lung function be impaired,
Though health insurance rates may soar
And smokers file lawsuits galore,
This wondrous leaf shall be extolled!
Especially when it’s dried and rolled.”
Did Chris find India? No, not quite.
“Oh, well,” he shrugged. “You got a light?”
~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Columbus Day.

Testing iPhone App

Trying out a new iPod Touch App for Blogger.





- Posted from my iPhone

Here are Some "Links"

I've been doing lots of writing, but not much blogging the last couple of weeks. Instead, here are some links. Enjoy!

* The "Blog" Of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. The name says it all. Funny stuff!

* My friend Barb recently began a three week trip to Rwanda with others from her church. She has already encountered both heartbreak and joy. Read about it at Muzungu Memoirs.

* A couple of weeks ago I kept getting call after call from Ruffalo Cody, a fundraising/direct marketing company. When something really bugs you, write a poem about it, I always say. (Well, maybe not always). Here it is.

*I signed up for a Google Voice phone number a couple of months ago, and it has come in handy. You can choose which phone/phones will ring when someone calls your GV number. Voice mails are transcribed and e-mailed to you immediately. I've found this feature particularly helpful since I don't turn on my cell phone every day. Sometimes when I turn it back on, I discover a voice mail has been sitting there a day or two. The transcriptions aren't incredibly accurate, but it sends a link to a .wav file so you can listen to the message. And, hey, free entertainment reading the bungled transcription. You can send/receive text messages with GV, too. One other nice application is the ability to call your own GV number and leave yourself voice mail reminders, which will be waiting in your e-mail inbox when you get home.

DWD 7. Shorter. Better.

What’s this about? Click on picture to learn more.

And now for the sporadic update of the Distracted Woman’s Daybook....

Taking my own suggestion made to my blog friend Lori, I’m scratching several of these questions that don’t really interest me (e.g. "From the kitchen." I don’t like to cook, so if I don’t care what’s happening in my kitchen, why should you?) and substituting a couple of my own.

Outside my window...cloudy, wet. I tend to enjoy slightly gloomy weather, so this is fine with me. And it’s cooling off, which means fall is on the way--my favorite time of year. I especially appreciate autumn here in Maryland after living so many years in hot, humid Houston--where you may or may not still be running the air conditioning on Christmas Day.

I am thinking...that the first week of school went well even though we went cold turkey on the earlier getting to bed/getting up schedule. Eldest son is a senior this year. Second son is in 4th grade. He expressed disappointment this morning (Saturday) that it wasn’t a school day, so I think he’s enjoying it so far. Youngest is a second grader. I’m homeschooling her for some subjects and she’s in a co-op as well. If all goes well, she’ll be at her brothers’ school next year. That means after homeschooling off and on (mostly on) for the past 13 years (if you include my eldest son’s pre-K year, which I do), this will be my final year.

I am thankful for...living in a country with so many privileges and freedoms we often take for granted.

I am creating...more embroidery. Specifically, a small floral piece to fit in a 3 x 2 inch silver frame. I’ll post a picture when I’m finished, unless it looks really crummy.

I am reading...“Between Silk and Cyanide: A Codemaker’s War,” for the second time. An intriguing book written by Leo Marks, an English cryptographer who worked in the Signals department of the SOE, helping to create and break codes used by agents in the field. I blogged about it here if you want to read more about it.

I am listening to....dance music of Renaissance (this CD). Joyful, toe-tapping stuff.

A link I am sharing...Online Etymology Dictionary. A fun way to waste some time. From the home page: “This is a map of the wheel-ruts of modern English. Etymologies are not definitions; they're explanations of what our words meant and how they sounded 600 or 2,000 years ago.”

A picture I am sharing...my eldest--first day of kindergarten and first day of senior year.

Great Gompers....

I’ve posted this one at my humor blog in years past in honor of Labor Day…

Did you know that Labor Day, first celebrated in 1882, is different from any other holiday celebrated anywhere? Thus spoke Samuel Gompers, founder and president of the American Federation of Labor from 1886-1924. And how, you may ask, does it differ?

Said Mr. Gompers: “All other holidays are in a more or less degree connected with conflicts and battles of man’s prowess over man, of strife and discord for greed and power, of glories achieved by one nation over another.”

Tell me about it! Take Thanksgiving. One minute you’re stuffing yourself with mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie; next thing you know, you’re on the couch watching large helmeted men pummel into each other. Talk about a holiday steeped in greed and conflict.

Or Christmas...

“Hey, cool! A new mountain bike with Quad-Link suspension system, perfect for negotiating a variety of terrains. Thanks, Mom and Dad!”

“You’re welcome, son. Just remember that our nation is vastly superior to any other nation on the face of the earth.”

“Sure, I remember the glories achieved. Can I go try out the bike now?”

And don’t even get me started on the power games that let to the establishment of Groundhog Day.

So how should you observe Labor Day? Here’s a quote from the Department of Labor website:

“The character of the Labor Day celebration has undergone a change in recent years, especially in large industrial centers where mass displays and huge parades have proved a problem. This change, however, is more a shift in emphasis and medium of expression. Labor Day addresses by leading union officials, industrialists, educators, clerics and government officials are given wide coverage in newspapers, radio, and television.”

I can see it now…

“Hey, Dad, can we go to the Labor Day parade?”

“Sorry, son. There’s going to be a little shift in the medium of expression this year. Instead of a parade, there will be wide media coverage of union officials and various government office-holders giving speeches.”

“Awesome! Then instead of getting ice cream like we used to do after the parade, can we go read the FAQ’s on our state rep’s website?”

“I don’t see why not. Then maybe we’ll scan the radio stations for a cleric or two.”

“Boy, oh boy–this is going to be the best Labor Day ever!”

All joking aside (well, most anyway), it’s a good thing to be reminded that regard for our fellow man should come before the pursuit of economic gain. It’s a good thing to appreciate all the workers who bring so many benefits to our lives.

Gompers also said that Labor Day “is devoted to no man, living or dead, to no sect, race, or nation.” Maybe that’s the problem. Most of us have a hard time feeling moved by an abstraction. So go ahead and offer a toast to the garbage man who removes your refuse each week; to the truck driver who helps keep your local grocery store well-stocked; and, yes, even to the government official who serves his community knowing that his actions are bound to be criticized, mischaracterized, and even mocked.

But feel free to turn off the TV when he start giving speeches–-and take your kids out for ice cream instead.

Just What the Doctor Ordered

Funny story....

This past weekend my husband Terry came down with a cold or flu, along with fever, congestion, and a headache. (No, that's not the funny part). So on Sunday morning when he was still running a fever, he decided he'd better stay home from church so that he didn't pass the flu along with the communion bread. Despite not feeling well, he went about his usual coffee-making duties and brought me a cup.

The coffee didn't taste nearly as good as it usually does--in fact, it tasted downright bad--and I wondered if I was coming down with something too. Sometimes things taste different when your sinuses are swollen. And indeed, Terry said he wasn't enjoying his coffee as much as usual either. My suspicions that I might be getting sick increased as I started to develop a bad headache over the next hour. Perhaps I should stay home from church, too...

It was about then that Terry diagnosed my "illness": our regular and decaf bean canisters had gotten switched. He had accidentally made full decaf instead of regular. No wonder it tasted different--and no wonder I had a headache! One ibuprofen and one cup of fully caffeinated Starbucks coffee later, I was feeling just fine.

Caffeine--just what the doctor ordered!

Epilogue

The only reason we even have decaf around is that I often make myself a cup of half-caf/half-decaf. I've always insisted that there isn't a huge difference in taste between the two, especially since we use fresh Starbucks beans for both. Terry disagrees, claiming that decaf doesn't taste nearly as good, and won't even touch my half and half mixture. Coffee snob. Well, after my Sunday morning experience, I fully concede the point. Guess I'm even more of a coffee snob than I thought.

Goodbye, decaf--you aren't welcome around here any more.

Roller Coaster

And now for something completely different....a short story by yours truly.

ROLLER COASTER

Eileen gripped the steering wheel, took a deep breath, and snuck a glance at her son. She couldn’t believe how calm he was. She reached over and gave him a quick pat on the knee. Kevin looked up, smiled, then concentrated again on his book. At least it provided some temporary diversion, she thought.

A new wave of nervousness swept over Eileen as they pulled into the parking lot. She felt an impulse to turn back for home. No. She needed to be calm, for Kevin’s sake.

They walked toward the building and Kevin shifted his backpack from one shoulder to another. It contained books, puzzles, and other items useful for passing the endless moments of waiting. They were instructed to take a seat. Eileen flipped through page after page of a magazine, unseeing, before she finally gave up with a sigh. Her gaze meandered around the room. Kevin was still absorbed in his book. Another mother was leaning her head against the wall, eyes closed. Was she praying for her child, or simply exhausted from the strain? A father paced back and forth, glancing frequently at the double doors. As for the children, a few appeared nervous, but most were talking and laughing, showing no trace of care or worry. Children could be amazingly calm at times like this.

“Kevin.”

Eileen froze and didn’t turn toward the voice. Perhaps they meant a different Kevin.

“Kevin Martin.”

He was already shoving things back into his backpack. Now that the moment had come, Eileen couldn’t remember any of the encouraging words she had intended to offer. Kevin gave her a thumbs up and disappeared behind the double doors, followed by a bustling woman wearing a bright yellow pen on a string around her neck.

Eileen's glance fell on a nearby painting. It pictured a ship sailing over stormy seas. That was just how she felt. She let the sounds and images around her melt into the background as she thought of Kevin. Would it be long?

“Mrs. Martin.” Eileen jerked her head forward with a start. Good grief—she must have fallen asleep. And no wonder, since she had tossed and turned practically the whole night before. How long had Kevin been gone? Where was he? And did he—

“Mrs. Martin?” A man holding a clipboard sat down in a chair across from her. Eileen stared at the paper on the clipboard but couldn’t tell what it said.

“I’m afraid,” he began, clearing his throat, “that the results aren’t going to be to your liking...”

Eileen gasped and started from her chair. “No!” she cried.

“Please, Mrs. Martin, I’m certainly not giving up on Kevin. Another year may make a big difference. It’s just that for now, I’m afraid that—”

“I can’t believe it!” Eileen stood up quickly. She had not wanted to react this way, if it came to this, but now she felt as though she had no control over own body. She began sobbing.

“Mrs. Martin,” he continued, more firmly, “Please try to pull yourself together. For Kevin’s sake.”

Eileen scowled through her tears. She didn’t need to be lectured--not right now. Without answering, she walked past him, through the double doors, and around the corner. There was Kevin, still reading his book, swinging his legs to and fro.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as she approached.

“Kevin,” whispered Eileen, kneeling beside him. “You heard?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Eileen leaned over to grasp him in her arms, but he squirmed uncomfortably.

“It’s all right, Mom,” he said, looking away.

Eileen contented herself with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. “Come on,” she said, “Let’s go home.”

They rode in silence. She wondered what he was thinking. Should she leave him to sort out things in his own mind? Or should she encourage him to talk about it—to go ahead and cry?

As they pulled into the garage, Ryan came bicycling around the corner and up the driveway.

“Honey,” said Eileen, “If you don’t feel like hanging out with Ryan right now, it’s okay.” She had hoped they could talk awhile when they got home.

“Uh, I’d kinda like to.” He grabbed his backpack and tossed it toward the back door.

“Hey, Kevin,” Ryan called as he glided into the garage. “How’d it go?”

Eileen winced. Kids didn’t feel the need to tiptoe around sensitive topics.

“Not so hot,” replied Kevin, pulling his bike out of a jumble of sports equipment. “Looks like I didn’t make the school play. Mr. Williams said maybe next year.” He strapped on his helmet. “Bye, Mom.” The two boys sped down the driveway and up the hill, shouting and laughing.

Eileen stood and watched them go. Tears began streaming down her face. She clenched her fists and tried to fight off a growing fury. How could his happen? Everyone who had heard Kevin recite the Gettysburg address this year remarked how well he enunciated. A natural on the stage, Uncle Sidney kept telling everyone.

Maybe next year. Brave, brave Kevin. She wished she could protect him from these things.

Eileen picked up Kevin's backpack and went inside. She just needed to sit down, have one more good cry, then relax with a cup of tea. After that she might give her friend Kathy a call. It was time to get some information about those upcoming soccer league try-outs.

* * * * *

Searches, Storms, and More

Some links and pictures....

* I don't update my humor blog much these days, but that doesn't mean people don't visit it. Unfortunately, it may not be exactly what they're looking for. New post: "Searching for Stuff in All the Wrong Places," on strange search terms that have landed people at Angie's Humor Blog.

* Cool storm/hurricane tracking site

* Voice getting tired from reading to your children? Try My Audio School. Free titles are here. The rest can be accessed for a subscription fee of $15 per year. (I heard about this a few months ago from someone's blog and can't remember where or I'd give a hat tip. If it was you, let me know in the comments!)

* My flower embroidery project pics: just starting and completed.

Summer Reading: Vance, Greene, and More

Here are a few notes about some of my summer reading….

* This has been a summer of sci-fi for me. I mentioned in a previous post that I read a collection of short stories by Gene Wolfe (Castle of Days) and Jack McDevitt (Standard Candles). I’ve since started a new collection of SF/fantasy stories by Jack Vance, (The Jack Vance Treasury). I have to say, going from McDevitt from Vance is like going from black & white to color.

The McD stories were interesting, though mostly revolved around the same couple of themes: 1) a character with a dread of mediocrity, 2) jealousy/appreciation of great writers/thinkers. He hits these themes again and again, whether the story takes place in a suburban neighborhood or on a planet many light years away. I enjoyed his stories, but can’t say that I loved them. I know writers must dislike being analyzed by their work, but I can’t help wondering whether McDevitt is writing about himself in these stories. As far as creativity goes…his alien worlds were interesting, if unremarkable.

Not so Vance. His worlds are weird, fascinating, and each story utterly different. Of course his characters are dealing with the universal themes of love, fear, adventure, envy, courage, laziness….but they aren’t the same characters used to tell the same story over and over, but with a different set of costumes and props. With Vance you have to do a “brain reboot” at the beginning of each story to adjust to his new world, thought it doesn’t take unduly long to get readjusted. I’ve read some SF/fantasy stories that threw around so many invented terms and bizarre scenarios that it took me a couple of chapters just to get a faint idea of what was going on. The invented world is half the fun of reading that genre, of course, but Vance doesn’t force the reader to struggle unnecessarily to enter into his worlds.

Once thing I don’t particularly like about his writing: the overly formal, stilted way many (maybe all) of his fantasy characters speak. It’s odd encountering, say, a scruffy thief, a beautiful witch, a distracted construction foreman, and a clever wizard all talking like Jeeves. (As a matter of fact, Vance cites Wodehouse as one of his influences). Having a few characters speak that way would be fine, but it’s starting to get a tad annoying. Oh, well--it only distracts a little from his rich creativity and engaging storytelling. I’ve already checked out a couple more Vance novels from the library and am looking forward to digging in when I finish the collection. By the way, reading this recent article about Vance in the NYT is what inspired me to give him a try.

* Travels with My Aunt: I mentioned in a previous post that I picked up this Graham Greene novel at Half-Price books earlier this summer. Although I didn’t enjoy the last Greene book I read, a slim volume entitled “Under the Garden,” I very much enjoyed “Our Man in Havana” and “The Power and the Glory.” I’m sorry to say that Travels didn’t do much for me. I made it about halfway before deciding to abandon ship.

Here’s what it’s about: Henry, a middle-aged retired bank manager who leads a quiet, predictable life, meets his aging Aunt Augusta at his mother’s funeral. Thus ends his quiet, predictable life. Aunt Augusta is outspoken, well-travelled, and worldly, and seems to enjoy scandalizing her nephew.

Graham has a wry sense of humor, which I appreciate. But about 95% of the humor in this book is derived from the fact that a wealthy, respectable-looking elderly woman is always talking about sex (albeit in an aristocratic, English, indirect way. In fact, half the time, Henry doesn’t realize that’s what she’s talking about). Graham likes to have these jarring contrasts--for example, when, unbeknownst to Henry, Aunt Augusta’s “butler” hides his stash of marijuana in the urn that hold’s Henry’s mother’s ashes. Stately, conventional-looking urn hides illegal pot; stately, conventional-looking Aunt Augusta hides lawless past.

I finally stopped reading after a scene on the Orient Express in which Henry shares a conversation and a smoke (marijuana. Henry doesn’t realize it at first) with a young lady. She tells an increasingly giddy Henry about how her boyfriend has been scolding her for forgetting to take her birth control pill. Sex and drugs, drugs and sex--so far that’s mostly what the book has been about---as well as the slow corruption of Henry (or redemption, I suppose, depending on your POV). Graham’s wry humor and wonderful writing just aren’t enough to keep me traveling through essentially the same situations and wink-wink-nudge-nudge-jokes over and over. Thanks for the ride, Aunt Augusta, but here’s where I get off.

* A couple of weeks ago, Christian publisher Michael Hyatt offered a free copy of N.D. Wilson’s Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl to the first 100 people to comment on his blog (later he upped it to 500 because the response was so overwhelming). My copy arrived yesterday and I’m looking forward to digging into what has been described as a Chestertonian-joie-de-vivish-collection of observations about God and His wondrous creation.

* And finally....I'm also looking forward to starting "Comrade Don Camillo" by Giovanni Guareschi. I just love the Don Camillo books, which I learned about from one of my blog friends. Here's the Wikipedia summary of the series: "Don Camillo is a fictional Catholic priest and the protagonist in Giovanni Guareschi's gentle tales of a Post War Italian town with the Catholic priest and a Communist mayor locked in rivalry."

These stories are both funny and poignant, with the rough-and-tumble though good-hearted Don Camillo continually butting heads (and occasionally fists) with the town's Communinist mayor, Peppone, who holds a grudging respect for his Catholic nemesis. My fellow Protestant friends may raise eyebrows at the fact that Don Camillo's favorite confidante is the crucifix which hangs in front of the church. Through it, Christ speaks to Don Camillo from time to time, offering both rebuke and encouragement. The books are not currently in print, but if you can get your hands on used copies, by all means, do so.

And now, this blog post has gone on long enough. Back to reading!

Stitching Stuff

A few weeks ago I entered a drawing for some cool embroidery supplies Romilly was giving away at Stitching with a Shimmy. The winner turned out to be a friend of hers. Even though she didn't have to, Romilly decided to draw another second place winner. It was me!

My prize arrived in the mail today (pictured above). It included two pieces of beautiful fabric ready for stitching (can you see the sparkles?), plus a pretty fob to use for keeping scissors, etc. handy while working. Thanks, Romilly! Can't wait to use them all. (click on pics for a closer look)

As long as I'm talking about embroidery (I assume those uninterested in such things have moved along by now), I'll show you the new project I started. First, here is the inspiration for it--a page ripped out of the appropriately named "Inspirations" embroidery magazine. Impressive, isn't it? Check out the close up of the flowers on the right. It was an ad for something, not a project, so there weren't any instructions. I figured I'd try a pared-down version of it. I've got lots of flowers left to stitch, as you can see. Don't want to leave it quite that pared down.

On Sunday a friend gave me a needlepoint instruction book that belonged to her grandmother. It has practice charts with holes that show you exactly how your stitches should work. What a great idea. Thanks, Karen!
__

DWD, 6

What’s this about? Click on picture to learn more.

Outside my window...our swimming pool is now full of water and scheduled to be opened in a couple of days. I know, we’re running a little late this year. Oh, how I would love to fill the thing with dirt and turn it into a giant vegetable garden!

I am thinking...about my mother, who is undergoing some tests for breast cancer, which is recurring after ten years. The word so far is that it doesn’t appear to be too invasive, but she’s awaiting another test or two to make sure it hasn’t spread. Would appreciate prayers on her behalf. It’s only been a year since my dad completed his treatment for lung/neck cancer.

From the schoolroom...recently found out my daughter got a spot in a local homeschool co-op. She’ll go twice a week in the fall. Someone else will teach her Shurley Grammar. Hooray!

I am thankful for...parents who love the Lord and trust in Him, despite all they’ve been through.

From the kitchen...fridge full of leftovers from a trip to the Olive Garden this weekend. My entrée was unremarkable--but if it means not cooking, it will taste like ambrosia tonight.

I am wearing...new earrings I bought from the Embroiderers’ Guild of America. No, I’m not a member--I just like them. They're gold. They're dangly. Plus, if you look at the logo just right, you can see the letters of my first name scattered about. (You have to get a little creative to spot an “n,” but I’m willing to do that.)

I am creating...the usual. Doing some writing, some stitching. I experimented with embroidering flowers on thin foam sheets to create greeting cards. It worked pretty well.

I am reading...Standard Candles, a collection of science fiction short stories by Jack McDevitt (one final story left to read) and Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything. See comments in my last post if you're interested in hearing more about those books. Will likely start “Travels with My Aunt” by Graham Greene next. Hope I like it better than his Under the Garden.

I am hearing...the sound of arguing. The two youngest are having a little too much unstructured summer fun. Why do they want to play cards every day when it always, ALWAYS ends in an argument?

Around the house…new string of LED globe lights to adorn the artificial plant in the family room. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here.

One of my favorite things...short afternoon nap, followed by a cup of tea.

A few plans for the rest of the week...as mentioned before, we’re hitting the allergist twice a week. An orthodontist appointment is on the agenda as well …the allergic son has also begun treatment to correct his underbite. Expensive orthodontic treatment--just as we finished paying off his expensive eye prosthesis. The medical fun just never ends with him!

A video I am sharing…check out this trumpet solo. It's...well, words fail me. Wondering whether I should try to work up this routine. For prelude at church, perhaps?

Goal Post

So here we are halfway through 2009. I thought I'd look back at my 2009 goals and see how things are going. Here's the list:

* Be more productive in my book-writing efforts
Yes and no, leaning more toward no. Part of the problem is that I'm trying to figure out which genre to stick with, since I've sort of been all over the map. Speaking of which....new post up at my humor blog (telecommuting cartoon) and at the Squirmtrap E-mails (Prayer Problems).

* Try to be slightly more creative in my culinary efforts
I laughed out loud when I re-read this one. For one thing, this goal has most certainly not been met. But besides that, although I'd forgotten about this goal before I looked back at it today, I have some definite plans in the works for some culinary creativeness. Unfortunately for my family, these efforts will not actually result in any tasty meals. More about my "culinary" project when it's a little further along. And, yes, those are scare quotes.

* Continue to develop my embroidery skills
I bought a few of new embroidery books in the last couple of months and have been enjoying learning some new stitches.

* Have a better year reading-wise in 2009
Books I've read so far:

The Secret Agent (Joseph Conrad)
The Flying Inn (G.K. Chesterton)
Planet Narnia (Michael Ward) Got about halfway through this before I got bored
Various short stories by Chesterton
After the Storm: True Stories of Disaster and Recovery at Sea (John Rousmaniere)
Castle of Days (Gene Wolfe)
The Children of Men (P.D. James)
Various books on needlepoint/embroidery
Currently reading:
Standard Candles (Jack McDevitt)
Orthodoxy (Chesterton)
A Short History of Nearly Everything (Bill Bryson)

Not a breathtaking list, by any means, but better than I did in the first half of 2008. How are your 2009 resolutions/goals coming along?

After the Fall

So before dinner last night I was putting a few things on the kitchen table, then sat down in my chair. Only my chair wasn't there, I realized, as the journey downward ended up being longer and more painful than I'd anticipated.

My husband rushed over to help me off the ground. My daughter looked quite distressed and kept asking if I was okay. My two sons made feeble attempts to stifle laughter.

Guess I know who my real friends are.

Allergy Adventures

Just started a regimen of allergy shots for son #2. Twice a year, in the spring and in the fall, his nose turns into a fountain. He can go through an entire box of tissues in a day or two. Nor do the various over-the-counter allergy meds seem to have much effect.

So off we went to the allergist, who confirmed that Son has significant tree pollen allergies and a smattering of others. (Including peanuts. The doctor was surprised to hear that Son has been eating peanuts and peanut butter. He told us to go ahead and have him continue eating peanut products in moderate amounts).

I thought "Oh, great," when I heard we would have to come in twice a week for the first four months. After waiting our turn for Son's shot, we would be required to stay 30 minutes to make sure he wasn't having a reaction to the injection.

As I said, we started this week. I brought books along for my daughter, my son, and myself. The shot itself wasn't as bad as Son thought it would be, thank goodness. He's got a bit of the "white coat syndrome." No surprise, I suppose, considering all the medical issues he's had (a dozen or so eye surgeries, hernia repair, two ear surgeries, the emergency intestinal surgery/hospital stay he had earlier this year...)

So he got his shot and we sat down in the waiting room, with nothing to do but sit and read. No computer, no running errands, no chopping onions for dinner, no running down to the basement to transfer laundry to the drier....

Hmmm. Twice a week of "forced" sit-and-read time. Maybe this allergy shot stuff won't be so bad after all.

DWD, 5

What’s this about? Click on picture to learn more.

Outside my window...dusk. Inside my windowsill….dust.

I am thinking...that I would enjoy having a vegetable garden. But only today I saw deer wandering out behind our house. I’m afraid a veggie garden wouldn’t survive long.

From the schoolroom...schoolroom closed for now.

I am thankful for... the strawberry cake my friend Valerie made for my birthday on Tuesday. Can’t wait to dig in!

From the kitchen...new coffee grinder. The old one didn’t break, but was such a pain to clean I couldn’t take it anymore.

I am wearing...a frown. Didn’t make the list of finalists for the Mark Twain writing contest. Have been generally discouraged lately about my writing efforts. Oh well…such is life!

I am creating...a case for my eyeglasses, on which I've begun embroidering some flowers. Click on pic for a closer look.

I am reading...P.D. James. Just started “The Children of Men.” Finished Gene Wolfe’s “Castle of Days” last week. Lots of fun and weirdness!

I am hearing...my 7 year old playing the piano. He found one of my old piano books and is sight-reading his way through it. Has been going at it about an hour now.

Around the house...about to have a new A/C unit installed after three weeks of using ceiling/box fan downstairs. Fortunately the upstairs unit still works, so I could always retreat up there when I needed a dose of nice cool air.

One of my favorite things...Christmas lights. Year ‘round.

A few plans for the rest of the week...as mentioned, new A/C, celebrating the big 4o, wondering how my eldest son is enjoying Colorado Springs (he's there for the Air Force summer seminar), starting allergy shots for son #2.

A picture I am sharing…See above.

Name that Plant, Please

So I bought some flowers several weeks ago and planted them in pots around the deck. I ran out of potting soil, so I trekked out toward the woody ravine behind our house, which is always covered with a layer of decomposing leaves. I filled up a pail with some nice, dark soil and added it to a planter filled with marigolds.

About a week or so later, I noticed a distinctly non-marigold growth coming from the pot. What sort of baby plant did I pick up from the ravine soil? It doesn't look like poison ivy, but I'm wondering about poison oak. Here are some pictures of it trailing out of the marigold planter, along with a close-up of one of the leaves. Anyone know what this is? Should I take the pot and dump it back down the ravine, just in case? (click on images for a closer look)

_ _
p.s. Should I be disturbed that my daughter created this Lego couple?

Grocery Store Theology

Here's what I saw while waiting in line at the grocery store check-out yesterday:


_I didn't have time to read it to determine whether it was, indeed, theology for the complete idiot.

It made me think of Chesterton's amusing quip about the book of Revelation:

"And though St. John the Evangelist saw many strange monsters in his vision, he saw no creature so wild as one of his own commentators."
--Orthodoxy, "II. The Maniac."

Brief Update: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Howdy! Just got back from a trip to Texas. Yee-haw!

The trip included the good (visit with my parents), the bad (visit to Minute Clinic. Flu.) and the ugly (visit to Chuck E. Cheese).

In the meantime, thanks to you folks who entered Angie's Generalized Reciprocity Meme Contest! I'm clicking over to the random number generator right now....hold on.

We had four participants, so I'll now ask random.org to give me three random numbers out of four. Here we go...our numbers are: 4, 2, and 1. Which means our winners are Alastair (#4), Jerseechik (#2), and Jennifer (#1). Congrats, you three! I won't try to figure out which one of you is the good, the bad, or the ugly. ;-) Just send me your--

Hold on again. I'm changing the rules. I've decided to pick four winners, not three. Let's see who our fourth winner will be...hey, it's camillofan (#3)!

Congrats, you four! Just e-mail me your mailing address (angie at angiebrennan dot com. Be sure to include my first name in the body of the e-mail to make it past my spam filter).

Now it's bedtime. Traveling with young children, fighting the flu, and enduring the Houston humidity really takes it out of a gal.

Goodnight, y'all.