Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Clothing Conundrum
Mom and I have joined a ladies-only fitness center near our house, and I'm in a bit of a pickle.
How to dress nicely, modestly, and for ease of workout? Most workout-specific clothes are tight as can be. Sweats are terribly uncomfortable and unattractive.
If anyone has any suggestions for workout clothes that are appropriate to a young Christian lady, I would appreciate them greatly!
How to dress nicely, modestly, and for ease of workout? Most workout-specific clothes are tight as can be. Sweats are terribly uncomfortable and unattractive.
If anyone has any suggestions for workout clothes that are appropriate to a young Christian lady, I would appreciate them greatly!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Christmas: In the Ozarks, On the Prairie, and With Dogs
I had a fantastic time in Ft. Smith with many, many family members I don't often get to see. I got a whole stack of journals from my aunt, some teacups from Mom and Jay, a cameo from my other aunt and uncle, and won a Starbucks gift card in our gift exchange. But the best part? Getting to go through stacks and stacks of family photos and bring some home to scan...I'll post a few when we get them done.
I spent my Christmas Day at my Grandmother's house in the western part of the state, with my Dad and great-grandma present as well. We had a lovely time, with a nice, easy Christmas dinner. Between playing with Nanny's new dog, passing out gifts, and dropping a piece of pie on the floor, there wasn't a dull moment!
That night when I got home, our neighbors came caroling with a plate of homemade goodies, their cute dog in tow. It was the first time any of us had ever had carolers!
And yesterday, in the spirit of the season, we opened our home to a stranger; a young female dog we saw wandering around outside. She was very skinny, skittish, and had an old, worn collar on.
We started off in the morning by leaving food out for her, and by the end of the day she was eating lunchmeat out of Jay's hand. The forecast correctly predicted terrible storms for last night, so we brought her inside and gave her a blanket, food and water. She, in turn, gave us a wagging tail and kisses. By the end of the night she was a completely different dog, relaxed and happy.
As if it was meant to be, our friend Denise who lives a block away has been involved with a breed-specific rescue for years, and our new tenant was of that particular breed (boxer). She came by and the dog hopped up into her car, and off they went. She'll stay at Denise's house until a good adoptive home can be found for her.
Have a happy rest of the year, and whether you celebrated Christmas or not, I hope you've had a merry December!
I spent my Christmas Day at my Grandmother's house in the western part of the state, with my Dad and great-grandma present as well. We had a lovely time, with a nice, easy Christmas dinner. Between playing with Nanny's new dog, passing out gifts, and dropping a piece of pie on the floor, there wasn't a dull moment!
That night when I got home, our neighbors came caroling with a plate of homemade goodies, their cute dog in tow. It was the first time any of us had ever had carolers!
And yesterday, in the spirit of the season, we opened our home to a stranger; a young female dog we saw wandering around outside. She was very skinny, skittish, and had an old, worn collar on.
We started off in the morning by leaving food out for her, and by the end of the day she was eating lunchmeat out of Jay's hand. The forecast correctly predicted terrible storms for last night, so we brought her inside and gave her a blanket, food and water. She, in turn, gave us a wagging tail and kisses. By the end of the night she was a completely different dog, relaxed and happy.
As if it was meant to be, our friend Denise who lives a block away has been involved with a breed-specific rescue for years, and our new tenant was of that particular breed (boxer). She came by and the dog hopped up into her car, and off they went. She'll stay at Denise's house until a good adoptive home can be found for her.
Have a happy rest of the year, and whether you celebrated Christmas or not, I hope you've had a merry December!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Packing up
We depart for Ft. Smith tomorrow, to spend a long weekend bathed in family tradition and Christmas cheer. Everyone traveling, be safe! I'll be back on Tuesday.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Thoughts on College, Part Two
Or, "Everly, you took the words right outta my mouth!" :)
Often when I speak of not wanting to do anything “visible” with my life, instead finding greatness in serving God and bringing up the next generation, my mother insists that isn’t the problem she has. However, she did once blurt out during a discussion, “What if my life purpose is to have you so you can do something great? What am I supposed to do then?” Even if it’s not a conscious realization, I believe my mother feels inadequate in her own accomplishments and wants to live vicariously through me. If that is the case, no amount of interviews, acclaim, or attention on my part will ever satisfy her need to be appreciated. Only the deep gratitude of my stepfather, myself, and the people she works with and for will provide her with that.
What I don’t think she understands is that I do want to do something great. I want to do the greatest thing of all. I want to have children who will have children who will have children, and by doing so I will have far more influence than just writing a bestseller or being a successful doctor or lawyer. I can change the world, not through my own meager actions, but by having an army of descendants who hold to my convictions. I can be the “mother of thousands,” and my children and theirs will “possess the gates of those that hate them.”
But even if I could convince her of these things, there is still the “What If” factor that must be addressed. After all, we live in a society consumed by the fear of what-ifs. What if the stock market crashes? What if Iran attacks? What if the new President is assassinated? What if there’s a global epidemic of Avian Flu?
What if I can’t pay off my mortgage? What if gas goes any higher? What if I get in an accident on the way to work? What if I forget to take my medication?
But what if my house should catch on fire? Should I train now to be a firefighter? What if I am ever taken to court? Should I go to law school now, just in case?
And, the most relevant to this situation, “What if my husband dies?”
What if I spend my whole life preparing to be a wife and mother, have upwards of five children, and suddenly our provider dies? What can I do then?
Of course, just because we’re a two-income family doesn’t mean that we’ll be safe if one of us dies. Look at my own family. If Mom or Jay died, what would we do? We would have to drastically adjust our lifestyle, because we would no longer be able to afford our current one. So, what if my husband died?
We would have to adjust our lifestyle.
If I spend my single and married years living frugally, saving money, keeping out of debt, and making extra money from cottage industry and writing, however, the loss of my husband isn’t nearly as scary. It might even be called less frightening than losing a husband in a two-income family bound by all sorts of debt.
We live in a world where we’re promised if we only shell out a few thousand dollars to earn a magical piece of paper, everything will fall into place and be perfect.
Plus, my mother even says she thinks I could make a living as a writer. I write well now, everyone says so. What will getting a degree do to help me finish and publish my first book? An English degree will teach me how to analyze all the mystery and romance out of classic novels in impeccable formatting, but can it teach me to write one?
I’m between a rock and a hard place. I belong under my parents’ roof, and I am commanded to honor and obey them as long as I am here. I disagree greatly with their desires for the rest of my life, but nothing can be done. They desire me to attend college, and so I will.
It’s less the issue of having to go to college, really. It’s far more about the fact that, on principle, we have these disagreements. They’re small potatoes now. But when I do marry and begin to have their grandchildren? When my daycare-sized gaggle of little ones and I spend a “school day” grocery shopping?
What will they think of me then?
Often when I speak of not wanting to do anything “visible” with my life, instead finding greatness in serving God and bringing up the next generation, my mother insists that isn’t the problem she has. However, she did once blurt out during a discussion, “What if my life purpose is to have you so you can do something great? What am I supposed to do then?” Even if it’s not a conscious realization, I believe my mother feels inadequate in her own accomplishments and wants to live vicariously through me. If that is the case, no amount of interviews, acclaim, or attention on my part will ever satisfy her need to be appreciated. Only the deep gratitude of my stepfather, myself, and the people she works with and for will provide her with that.
What I don’t think she understands is that I do want to do something great. I want to do the greatest thing of all. I want to have children who will have children who will have children, and by doing so I will have far more influence than just writing a bestseller or being a successful doctor or lawyer. I can change the world, not through my own meager actions, but by having an army of descendants who hold to my convictions. I can be the “mother of thousands,” and my children and theirs will “possess the gates of those that hate them.”
But even if I could convince her of these things, there is still the “What If” factor that must be addressed. After all, we live in a society consumed by the fear of what-ifs. What if the stock market crashes? What if Iran attacks? What if the new President is assassinated? What if there’s a global epidemic of Avian Flu?
What if I can’t pay off my mortgage? What if gas goes any higher? What if I get in an accident on the way to work? What if I forget to take my medication?
But what if my house should catch on fire? Should I train now to be a firefighter? What if I am ever taken to court? Should I go to law school now, just in case?
And, the most relevant to this situation, “What if my husband dies?”
What if I spend my whole life preparing to be a wife and mother, have upwards of five children, and suddenly our provider dies? What can I do then?
Of course, just because we’re a two-income family doesn’t mean that we’ll be safe if one of us dies. Look at my own family. If Mom or Jay died, what would we do? We would have to drastically adjust our lifestyle, because we would no longer be able to afford our current one. So, what if my husband died?
We would have to adjust our lifestyle.
If I spend my single and married years living frugally, saving money, keeping out of debt, and making extra money from cottage industry and writing, however, the loss of my husband isn’t nearly as scary. It might even be called less frightening than losing a husband in a two-income family bound by all sorts of debt.
We live in a world where we’re promised if we only shell out a few thousand dollars to earn a magical piece of paper, everything will fall into place and be perfect.
Plus, my mother even says she thinks I could make a living as a writer. I write well now, everyone says so. What will getting a degree do to help me finish and publish my first book? An English degree will teach me how to analyze all the mystery and romance out of classic novels in impeccable formatting, but can it teach me to write one?
I’m between a rock and a hard place. I belong under my parents’ roof, and I am commanded to honor and obey them as long as I am here. I disagree greatly with their desires for the rest of my life, but nothing can be done. They desire me to attend college, and so I will.
It’s less the issue of having to go to college, really. It’s far more about the fact that, on principle, we have these disagreements. They’re small potatoes now. But when I do marry and begin to have their grandchildren? When my daycare-sized gaggle of little ones and I spend a “school day” grocery shopping?
What will they think of me then?
Thoughts On College, Part One
My parents have a very simple request of me, in exchange for allowing me to live under their roof until I am married. I have to be "moving forward." Unfortunately, my parents and I have a very different idea of what moving forward is.
All I want to do in this world is be a wife and mother. I feel God calling me to such a life every day. I've got a bit of a deficiency in a lot of the arts of homemaking. I can clean, I can sew passably, and I can follow recipes, but outside of that I don't know much. Budgeting, diaper changing, menu planning, and a number of important aspects of keeping a home are things I've never learned.
In my mind, if my chosen life path is to be a wife and mother, then moving forward toward that goal would be learning to do these things proficiently. I also wish to spend my time becoming a more mature Christian by attending church functions, helping the needy, serving my parents, and assisting a family of eight I know any way I can in exchange for knitting lessons and experience with infants.
My mother doesn’t think that being a homeschooling mother is an illegitimate occupation. It’s just not for her baby girl. In the same way many parents say, “I don’t mind *insert belief or lifestyle here* people, as long as my child isn’t one,” my mother doesn’t mind stay-at-home mothers. Just as long as I don’t aspire to become one.
Enter the reasons and arguments that I should spend my unmarried years preparing for a “worst case scenario” by attending college and developing a résumé.
Firstly, my parents are more than a little disconcerted by the fact that I’m really not interested in spending large amounts of time with my peers. I have a few good friends that I see from time to time, and I would not be adverse to making more Godly friendships or finding a homemaking mentor, but I really do prefer to spend time with my family. My parents are my favorite people in the world, and we share so many interests that it seems silly to spend time with people I can learn little from in comparison.
By and large, I don’t care for interaction with my peers. There are many exceptions, yes, but as for the people I would most likely meet in college? Boys, parties, and careerism are not my primary interests. By that same token, I would prefer not to be meeting a husband who belonged to the perpetually adolescent environment of a college. I want a man of vision, unafraid of entrepreneurship, deeply rooted in his ancestry, who will want to blaze a trail down a forgotten path of family life.
Furthermore, my mother thinks that “children need to go to school.” It escapes her, having grown up in a world where government schools are the norm, that for several hundred years of American colonial and national history, children didn’t go to school. They were educated at home by their parents, and brought up in the family business. America was not illiterate before the dawn of public schools; on the contrary, books like the New England Primer and the Blue-Backed Speller illustrate that the average twelve year old in the 1700s was far more educated than most high school graduates today.
That is not to say that public school is an entirely negative thing. But it started out as an option for parents who didn’t have time or means to teach their own, not a compulsory requirement for life in modern society. If I have the time and the means to educate my children, why on earth should I not do so?
I don’t think I need an education degree to teach my children about the world, about the Lord, and about the universe. I think that all I need is the wise counsel of older experts who have tried and true methods and the personal willingness to sacrifice my time and energy for their benefit.
It’s true that children need time to interact with others and learn social skills, but I personally think that adequate interaction can be provided by attending church functions and meeting up with other families at parks. Not to mention, if I have multiple children of different ages, my children will experience first-hand how to interact, cooperate, and respect their peers.
All I want to do in this world is be a wife and mother. I feel God calling me to such a life every day. I've got a bit of a deficiency in a lot of the arts of homemaking. I can clean, I can sew passably, and I can follow recipes, but outside of that I don't know much. Budgeting, diaper changing, menu planning, and a number of important aspects of keeping a home are things I've never learned.
In my mind, if my chosen life path is to be a wife and mother, then moving forward toward that goal would be learning to do these things proficiently. I also wish to spend my time becoming a more mature Christian by attending church functions, helping the needy, serving my parents, and assisting a family of eight I know any way I can in exchange for knitting lessons and experience with infants.
My mother doesn’t think that being a homeschooling mother is an illegitimate occupation. It’s just not for her baby girl. In the same way many parents say, “I don’t mind *insert belief or lifestyle here* people, as long as my child isn’t one,” my mother doesn’t mind stay-at-home mothers. Just as long as I don’t aspire to become one.
Enter the reasons and arguments that I should spend my unmarried years preparing for a “worst case scenario” by attending college and developing a résumé.
Firstly, my parents are more than a little disconcerted by the fact that I’m really not interested in spending large amounts of time with my peers. I have a few good friends that I see from time to time, and I would not be adverse to making more Godly friendships or finding a homemaking mentor, but I really do prefer to spend time with my family. My parents are my favorite people in the world, and we share so many interests that it seems silly to spend time with people I can learn little from in comparison.
By and large, I don’t care for interaction with my peers. There are many exceptions, yes, but as for the people I would most likely meet in college? Boys, parties, and careerism are not my primary interests. By that same token, I would prefer not to be meeting a husband who belonged to the perpetually adolescent environment of a college. I want a man of vision, unafraid of entrepreneurship, deeply rooted in his ancestry, who will want to blaze a trail down a forgotten path of family life.
Furthermore, my mother thinks that “children need to go to school.” It escapes her, having grown up in a world where government schools are the norm, that for several hundred years of American colonial and national history, children didn’t go to school. They were educated at home by their parents, and brought up in the family business. America was not illiterate before the dawn of public schools; on the contrary, books like the New England Primer and the Blue-Backed Speller illustrate that the average twelve year old in the 1700s was far more educated than most high school graduates today.
That is not to say that public school is an entirely negative thing. But it started out as an option for parents who didn’t have time or means to teach their own, not a compulsory requirement for life in modern society. If I have the time and the means to educate my children, why on earth should I not do so?
I don’t think I need an education degree to teach my children about the world, about the Lord, and about the universe. I think that all I need is the wise counsel of older experts who have tried and true methods and the personal willingness to sacrifice my time and energy for their benefit.
It’s true that children need time to interact with others and learn social skills, but I personally think that adequate interaction can be provided by attending church functions and meeting up with other families at parks. Not to mention, if I have multiple children of different ages, my children will experience first-hand how to interact, cooperate, and respect their peers.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Ice!
Our neighborhood pond is beginning to ice over! Winter is truly here.
We're also painting the cabinets this week, and it's quite a team effort. Going from pure white to a dark color is taking a lot of sanding, paint, and recoating. But it's so much fun to watch things take shape the more you work on them!
We're also painting the cabinets this week, and it's quite a team effort. Going from pure white to a dark color is taking a lot of sanding, paint, and recoating. But it's so much fun to watch things take shape the more you work on them!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Good Heavens!
Ah, the joys of aged plumbing. Apparently every time we run the washing machine, rancid water gets coughed up into the downstairs commode.
Lovely.
Lovely.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Names
We have officially named our place of residence. Our little "cottage on the lake" is now Goose Hill Terrace!
Also, I've been going on a "name kick" after viewing a certain offshoot of Everly's blog that she has with Rita. So here are the combinations I have scrawled out in my journal:
Boys
Robert Edward
Thomas Jonathon
Tristain Gabriel
George Alexander
Girls
Wisteria Anne
Magnolia Grace
Milady Ione
Lillibeth Rose
As you can tell, I love floral names for girls, and pillars of Southern history for boys!
Also, I've been going on a "name kick" after viewing a certain offshoot of Everly's blog that she has with Rita. So here are the combinations I have scrawled out in my journal:
Boys
Robert Edward
Thomas Jonathon
Tristain Gabriel
George Alexander
Girls
Wisteria Anne
Magnolia Grace
Milady Ione
Lillibeth Rose
As you can tell, I love floral names for girls, and pillars of Southern history for boys!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Upcoming...
In the near future, meaning sometime before the first of the year;
1. My graphics post.
2. A post about college.
3. The beginning of a very important series. This may take the longest, as I have to order my thoughts and I want to do some revising as well as run it by a woman I admire first. And though I doubt my readers will necessarily learn anything "new," I hope they'll be given a stronger perspective on something and the tools to refute it, and that any who may stumble upon this may learn from it.
1. My graphics post.
2. A post about college.
3. The beginning of a very important series. This may take the longest, as I have to order my thoughts and I want to do some revising as well as run it by a woman I admire first. And though I doubt my readers will necessarily learn anything "new," I hope they'll be given a stronger perspective on something and the tools to refute it, and that any who may stumble upon this may learn from it.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
DC-Land
Hey all! I'm back in Oklahoma after a wonderful journey to Washington, DC with my mother and her boss! We had many adventures, that's for sure, including the food we ate! From a sushi feast, to an hors-d'oeuvres reception, to a platter of Ethiopian food and teff-based bread. It was all delicious!
My first full day was spent at the National Portrait Gallery on G Street. I have to say, when I stood in one of the rooms, surrounded by portraits of Winthrop and Witherspoon and the men who founded this country hundreds of years ago, I got a little teary-eyed. Not only that, but the art and artistry were impeccable. Going through the American Art exhibit through the Gilded Age was really eye-opening as well, in terms of technique.
But the moment when the floodgates opened, and I began to cry for real, was when I stepped into the hall of Presidential Portraits. As a girl in Junior High, I studied the symbolism of the Landsdowne Portrait of George Washington. To see the painting, original, enormous, in front of me, of our first President and the General who led us to victory, was overwhelming.
So, of course, when we went on our after-dark tour of the monuments, I got a little sniffly as well. Particularly when I stood before the Arkansas pillar of the WWII Memorial, and remembered my four great-uncles who fought for our nation. They've all passed on now, but they all made it home from the war. (I'll be posting a bit about that later this week.) There were some very timely words inscribed on the Jefferson Memorial, and the statue was beautiful. The FDR Memorial was wonderfully thought-out, with some of the quotes in braille and every inch of it handicap accessable for those inspired by his legacy.
The Korean War Memorial was hauntingly beautiful, with 19 statues of soldiers creeping through a field. Perhaps it was because of my Grandfather's fighting in the war, or the eerie light in the evening darkness, or the amazing detail on the soldier's faces, but it send shivers up my spine. From there, we walked to the breaktaking temple that is the Lincoln Memorial, which rendered me speechless. It's hard to get a feel for how immense that statue is in pictures. And it's amazingly lifelike, it looks as though he could get up and speak to you. Our final stop was the Iwo Jima Statue, which holds special significance for the daughter of a Marine.
The next day I took a car to Mount Vernon and saw the home of our First President, which is so beautiful. I even got to participate in some authentic 18th-century dancing! It was delightful.
Today we took a cab to Union Station, which was very beautiful. We had lunch and then rode a train to Baltimore to catch our flight home. And now, here I am!
DC is a lovely place, full of bustling life. And it's definately a place every American should visit at least once. But it's all so crowded! I'm happy to be back among the rolling prairies of my home state.
My first full day was spent at the National Portrait Gallery on G Street. I have to say, when I stood in one of the rooms, surrounded by portraits of Winthrop and Witherspoon and the men who founded this country hundreds of years ago, I got a little teary-eyed. Not only that, but the art and artistry were impeccable. Going through the American Art exhibit through the Gilded Age was really eye-opening as well, in terms of technique.
But the moment when the floodgates opened, and I began to cry for real, was when I stepped into the hall of Presidential Portraits. As a girl in Junior High, I studied the symbolism of the Landsdowne Portrait of George Washington. To see the painting, original, enormous, in front of me, of our first President and the General who led us to victory, was overwhelming.
So, of course, when we went on our after-dark tour of the monuments, I got a little sniffly as well. Particularly when I stood before the Arkansas pillar of the WWII Memorial, and remembered my four great-uncles who fought for our nation. They've all passed on now, but they all made it home from the war. (I'll be posting a bit about that later this week.) There were some very timely words inscribed on the Jefferson Memorial, and the statue was beautiful. The FDR Memorial was wonderfully thought-out, with some of the quotes in braille and every inch of it handicap accessable for those inspired by his legacy.
The Korean War Memorial was hauntingly beautiful, with 19 statues of soldiers creeping through a field. Perhaps it was because of my Grandfather's fighting in the war, or the eerie light in the evening darkness, or the amazing detail on the soldier's faces, but it send shivers up my spine. From there, we walked to the breaktaking temple that is the Lincoln Memorial, which rendered me speechless. It's hard to get a feel for how immense that statue is in pictures. And it's amazingly lifelike, it looks as though he could get up and speak to you. Our final stop was the Iwo Jima Statue, which holds special significance for the daughter of a Marine.
The next day I took a car to Mount Vernon and saw the home of our First President, which is so beautiful. I even got to participate in some authentic 18th-century dancing! It was delightful.
Today we took a cab to Union Station, which was very beautiful. We had lunch and then rode a train to Baltimore to catch our flight home. And now, here I am!
DC is a lovely place, full of bustling life. And it's definately a place every American should visit at least once. But it's all so crowded! I'm happy to be back among the rolling prairies of my home state.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
*Sniffle*
Mom and I are both sick. And hoping that antibiotics can rectify the situation before we fly to Washington, DC this Sunday. Wish us luck and a safe flight! I'm hoping it won't be too terribly cold.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Weighed and Measured
As I sit here at the computer, happily ensconced with my inordinately large bowl of Rice Krispies (the kind with the strawberries), I reflect back on the events of the day with mixed emotion.
The deeper I dig, the more I find the foundations of my whole conflicted sense of college in two incidents that occurred today.
When I met with my advisor, I found out I would have to take remedial algebra classes with a partner college that is on the complete opposite side of town from me. As if that weren't enough, she kept referring to my "academic deficiencies," namely my "algebra deficiency" and the resulting "physical science deficiency."
Deficiency! Right. Just because I scored a certain amount on a placement test that was sprung on me without any prior knowledge this morning in a fog of DayQuil, I am somehow "Academically Deficient" in comparison to the mythic "Ideal Student" that they all want adorning their class lists. To feel like you tried your very hardest under the circumstances given to you and to be stamped with a label like that is extremely cutting.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you insult us, will we not huff off and blog about it?
But, no matter! :)
I had the privelege of spending most of my free time this morning talking to a guy slightly older than me named Jessie. He's a member of the National Guard and has a pet hedgehog, and has apparently been living out of his Jeep for about a month and showering at a friend's house because of a conflict between his parents, which has left him without a place to go. He never did find out my name, but he said it didn't matter, as I was already nicknamed in his mind.
Mother.
That's what he called me, and that's how I signed the note I left on the windshield of his Jeep. (Which I could locate by the fatigues hanging in back, and the hedgehog curled up on a heating pad in the passenger seat.) His explaination?
I had a natural "knack" for mothering. I just "give off that impression."
Academically deficient? Pft! Who cares? I'm a natural mother!
The deeper I dig, the more I find the foundations of my whole conflicted sense of college in two incidents that occurred today.
When I met with my advisor, I found out I would have to take remedial algebra classes with a partner college that is on the complete opposite side of town from me. As if that weren't enough, she kept referring to my "academic deficiencies," namely my "algebra deficiency" and the resulting "physical science deficiency."
Deficiency! Right. Just because I scored a certain amount on a placement test that was sprung on me without any prior knowledge this morning in a fog of DayQuil, I am somehow "Academically Deficient" in comparison to the mythic "Ideal Student" that they all want adorning their class lists. To feel like you tried your very hardest under the circumstances given to you and to be stamped with a label like that is extremely cutting.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you insult us, will we not huff off and blog about it?
But, no matter! :)
I had the privelege of spending most of my free time this morning talking to a guy slightly older than me named Jessie. He's a member of the National Guard and has a pet hedgehog, and has apparently been living out of his Jeep for about a month and showering at a friend's house because of a conflict between his parents, which has left him without a place to go. He never did find out my name, but he said it didn't matter, as I was already nicknamed in his mind.
Mother.
That's what he called me, and that's how I signed the note I left on the windshield of his Jeep. (Which I could locate by the fatigues hanging in back, and the hedgehog curled up on a heating pad in the passenger seat.) His explaination?
I had a natural "knack" for mothering. I just "give off that impression."
Academically deficient? Pft! Who cares? I'm a natural mother!
What We Aim For
I asked Mom how I looked this morning, in my long black skirt and pink, lace-trimmed shirt.
"Nice," she said with a rather lackluster demeanor that betrayed the fact she wished I was in jeans* and one of my "reimagined" band shirts. (read: ripped up and re-sewn.)
She turned to put her earrings on, looked me over again in the mirror, and said, in a rather funny British accent, "Quite modest."
I just grinned. Modest, after all, is what we aim for.
(* I have nothing against pants as a modest option for girls, it's a matter of personal opinion and conviction to me. But I myself simply cannot stand to wear pants! I haven't found a comfortable pair in years, even at plus sized stores.)
"Nice," she said with a rather lackluster demeanor that betrayed the fact she wished I was in jeans* and one of my "reimagined" band shirts. (read: ripped up and re-sewn.)
She turned to put her earrings on, looked me over again in the mirror, and said, in a rather funny British accent, "Quite modest."
I just grinned. Modest, after all, is what we aim for.
(* I have nothing against pants as a modest option for girls, it's a matter of personal opinion and conviction to me. But I myself simply cannot stand to wear pants! I haven't found a comfortable pair in years, even at plus sized stores.)
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Quite an Adventure!
My time in Texas was absolutely wonderful. We had a Thanksgiving feast, attended a Renaissance Festival, and as you may or may not already know, I got to meet Everly face to face! It was a wonderful experience, even if the chick strips were a little slimy. :) Hop on over to her blog, as she recounts it better than I could.
I'll be blogging later this week about graphics, my fantastic Aunt, and that which looms over my Monday morning; enrollment.
I'll be blogging later this week about graphics, my fantastic Aunt, and that which looms over my Monday morning; enrollment.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
A Wonderful Feeling
Walking past the laundry room, thinking you need to put in another load, taking a look at the hamper and realizing...
Hey! I already did that! :)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! See you this weekend.
Hey! I already did that! :)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! See you this weekend.
Hmm.
This post as been in drafts for a long time, because I haven't felt entirely comfortable posting it. It seems like an odd time of year to be thinking on it, too, but there are a myriad of reasons it's at the forefront of my mind. I haven't brought it up before now because I in no way want to make it the primary focus of this blog. But I feel like I ought to come clean about it anyhow.
What's that? "Get on with it?" Alright.
I am an ex witch.
Yes, that's right. I'm living, breathing proof that what you consume in the media can and will affect your spirituality. However, it's not exactly the obvious choice that sent me over the edge. I will admit, years of Harry Potter reading probably primed me to be more receptive to such things, but I will also say I hardly think it's fair to assume J.K. Rowling is deliberately trying to lead children to Satan.
No, the kicker for me came when watching two of the more recent (I say recent, it was about 1999.) Scooby-Doo movies. The newer releases are a far cry from back in the day when everything was given a logical explaination in the end. The first one, Scooby Doo on Zombie Island, featured a pair of solitary women who worshipped a pagan cat god. But even they were bad guys in the end.
Sooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost is probably the single biggest piece of pagan propaganda I have ever seen. There was obviously someone involved in the writing process of both films who has a strong pagan affiliation. The movie, which takes place in a quaint Massachusetts town during the fall, is filled with pro-pagan themes. Of course, we get the requisite Puritain bashing, but there are other things. The distinction is made between "witches" which are evil, and "Wiccans" which are merely kind, misunderstood herb healers who have the power to cast good spells. The conflict is actually resolved by Thorn, one of the female characters, reciting a spell from a book.
It wasn't tremendously popular and was a straight-to-DVD release, so it slid under the controversy radar as far as I know.
Anyway, the summer before seventh grade, a combination of being home by myself in the summer, lax parental controls on the computer, and the power of search engines had me looking at all sorts of things I ought not to.
To be fair, red flags went up immediately. After all, I was raised in a small town and had attended a Christian school, and later a Catholic one. References to "horned gods" certainly had me shaking as I thought of the implications of what I could be doing. Not to mention the so-called "rituals" seemed incredibly hoakey. But time desensitized me to such things, and after enough exposure, I bought my first book.
I won't go into all the details here, but just let me say this. It is a very short trip from dabbling in magic to getting in way, way over your head. It can all seem quaint and cottagey at first, working with herbs and charming wind chimes. And then maybe the unavoidably 80s glamour of standing before a candle flame in flowing black clothing catches you. I'm going to make a strong statement here, so skip over it if you don't think you can handle it, but here it is.
***Begin Statement***
There is real evil in this world. I have seen it, I have touched it, I have heard it speak to me. Witchcraft can start out in such a way as it seems harmless, but it all leads to the same place. It leads, unavoidably, to the Devil. All he wants to do is destroy you. And witchcraft is one of the single fastest ways to bring that about.
***End Statement***
In the end, I would just like to say to any contemplating it that come across this; don't do it. Even when I didn't consider myself a Christian yet, I was terrified of some of the things I had experienced. Witchcraft is the ultimate example of our society's belief that we are accountable to ourselves alone. You are playing with things that you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a purely evil power that dates back millenia. And any book, website, or movie that tries to convince you that your weak, frail, emotional human form can in any way tame and control it is leading you to disaster.
If anyone wants to know more about my personal experiences, or needs to talk about such things, feel free to contact me at thepeachmagnolia@gmail.com.
What's that? "Get on with it?" Alright.
I am an ex witch.
Yes, that's right. I'm living, breathing proof that what you consume in the media can and will affect your spirituality. However, it's not exactly the obvious choice that sent me over the edge. I will admit, years of Harry Potter reading probably primed me to be more receptive to such things, but I will also say I hardly think it's fair to assume J.K. Rowling is deliberately trying to lead children to Satan.
No, the kicker for me came when watching two of the more recent (I say recent, it was about 1999.) Scooby-Doo movies. The newer releases are a far cry from back in the day when everything was given a logical explaination in the end. The first one, Scooby Doo on Zombie Island, featured a pair of solitary women who worshipped a pagan cat god. But even they were bad guys in the end.
Sooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost is probably the single biggest piece of pagan propaganda I have ever seen. There was obviously someone involved in the writing process of both films who has a strong pagan affiliation. The movie, which takes place in a quaint Massachusetts town during the fall, is filled with pro-pagan themes. Of course, we get the requisite Puritain bashing, but there are other things. The distinction is made between "witches" which are evil, and "Wiccans" which are merely kind, misunderstood herb healers who have the power to cast good spells. The conflict is actually resolved by Thorn, one of the female characters, reciting a spell from a book.
It wasn't tremendously popular and was a straight-to-DVD release, so it slid under the controversy radar as far as I know.
Anyway, the summer before seventh grade, a combination of being home by myself in the summer, lax parental controls on the computer, and the power of search engines had me looking at all sorts of things I ought not to.
To be fair, red flags went up immediately. After all, I was raised in a small town and had attended a Christian school, and later a Catholic one. References to "horned gods" certainly had me shaking as I thought of the implications of what I could be doing. Not to mention the so-called "rituals" seemed incredibly hoakey. But time desensitized me to such things, and after enough exposure, I bought my first book.
I won't go into all the details here, but just let me say this. It is a very short trip from dabbling in magic to getting in way, way over your head. It can all seem quaint and cottagey at first, working with herbs and charming wind chimes. And then maybe the unavoidably 80s glamour of standing before a candle flame in flowing black clothing catches you. I'm going to make a strong statement here, so skip over it if you don't think you can handle it, but here it is.
***Begin Statement***
There is real evil in this world. I have seen it, I have touched it, I have heard it speak to me. Witchcraft can start out in such a way as it seems harmless, but it all leads to the same place. It leads, unavoidably, to the Devil. All he wants to do is destroy you. And witchcraft is one of the single fastest ways to bring that about.
***End Statement***
In the end, I would just like to say to any contemplating it that come across this; don't do it. Even when I didn't consider myself a Christian yet, I was terrified of some of the things I had experienced. Witchcraft is the ultimate example of our society's belief that we are accountable to ourselves alone. You are playing with things that you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a purely evil power that dates back millenia. And any book, website, or movie that tries to convince you that your weak, frail, emotional human form can in any way tame and control it is leading you to disaster.
If anyone wants to know more about my personal experiences, or needs to talk about such things, feel free to contact me at thepeachmagnolia@gmail.com.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Weekend Musings
I spent some time with Dad this weekend, and we had a lovely conversation over catfish sandwiches at a restaurant downtown. It was our first chance to talk about the election since it all happened. He had some wonderful insights as a former Marine.
He said when you're in the military, you realize that the President is your boss. It doesn't matter if you voted for him, if you like him, or anything like that. You owe him loyalty and respect as a citizen of his country. It's a good thing to remember.
In addition to scouring the city for a VCR, we also popped in Petsmart for a few minutes. I got acquainted with an interesting fish called a Ghost Catfish. It's very bizarre, you can see right through its translucent skin to its bones! You can count the ribs that stem from its vertebrae, it's very amazing. And once again I wonder how in the world evolution could explain a thing like that.
Still working on my graphics, hope to have them up soon. It may not be this week though, since we're leaving for Texas this Wednesday to have Thanksgiving at my aunt's! I can't wait to see everyone, especially the babies.
He said when you're in the military, you realize that the President is your boss. It doesn't matter if you voted for him, if you like him, or anything like that. You owe him loyalty and respect as a citizen of his country. It's a good thing to remember.
In addition to scouring the city for a VCR, we also popped in Petsmart for a few minutes. I got acquainted with an interesting fish called a Ghost Catfish. It's very bizarre, you can see right through its translucent skin to its bones! You can count the ribs that stem from its vertebrae, it's very amazing. And once again I wonder how in the world evolution could explain a thing like that.
Still working on my graphics, hope to have them up soon. It may not be this week though, since we're leaving for Texas this Wednesday to have Thanksgiving at my aunt's! I can't wait to see everyone, especially the babies.
Friday, November 21, 2008
I think I might be...
Calvinist. I'm not entirely certain, I'll have to read a bit more.
My search for a church has been rather disappointing. I found a Baptist group that claimed to be "family integrated" but still adhered to a lot of mainstream ideas about child training and Sunday School and the like. There's a Presbyterian church up the road that has a delightful little building and a small congregation; I've been in it before for a vocal recital. I think I may give it a try. And still, I'm considering a small Latin Mass community on the other side of town, because I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to give up the faith of my birth just like that.
All of this is, of course, coupled with the constant digestion of both new and old texts on doctrine, with the Bible at its heart.
In less heavy news...last night I organized the laundry room! It was desperately in need of it, and looks lovely now. :)
My search for a church has been rather disappointing. I found a Baptist group that claimed to be "family integrated" but still adhered to a lot of mainstream ideas about child training and Sunday School and the like. There's a Presbyterian church up the road that has a delightful little building and a small congregation; I've been in it before for a vocal recital. I think I may give it a try. And still, I'm considering a small Latin Mass community on the other side of town, because I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to give up the faith of my birth just like that.
All of this is, of course, coupled with the constant digestion of both new and old texts on doctrine, with the Bible at its heart.
In less heavy news...last night I organized the laundry room! It was desperately in need of it, and looks lovely now. :)
Monday, November 17, 2008
Coming Soon...
We've got a wonderful, Ebay-purchased version of Adobe Photoshop that we installed recently. Mom has put me in charge of getting the hang of it, and it's been more than a little fun. I've discovered that I have quite a knack for it.
So, coming soon, a nice little batch of banners and graphics, with an antifeminist twist!
So, coming soon, a nice little batch of banners and graphics, with an antifeminist twist!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Trying Not to Cry
When I briefly mentioned the desire to be a stay-at-home Mom to my mother this morning...
"Children need to go to school."
"So what? Are you just not going to use your own God-given gifts? What if my purpose in life was to have you, so you could share your talents. What happens if you don't?"
"You only get involvement in a child's life for about 13 years. After that, they don't want to be the center of your attention. What about the other 60+ years of your life when you don't have kids? What are you going to do then?"
"You want to know what I think? I think you're afraid of being out in the world. It just feels like the safe path, to have someone else out in the world for you and taking care of you."
"It's copping-out."
Culminating in an angry, resigned,
"It's your life, do whatever the *beep* you want with it."
"Children need to go to school."
"So what? Are you just not going to use your own God-given gifts? What if my purpose in life was to have you, so you could share your talents. What happens if you don't?"
"You only get involvement in a child's life for about 13 years. After that, they don't want to be the center of your attention. What about the other 60+ years of your life when you don't have kids? What are you going to do then?"
"You want to know what I think? I think you're afraid of being out in the world. It just feels like the safe path, to have someone else out in the world for you and taking care of you."
"It's copping-out."
Culminating in an angry, resigned,
"It's your life, do whatever the *beep* you want with it."
Friday, November 14, 2008
On Conspiracy Theories, Worry, and The End of the World as We Know It.
"I love peace and quiet. I hate politics and turmoil. " ~ Queen Victoria
If I allow myself to become too wrapped up in matters of politics, I go crazy. I can't sleep, I chew my nails, among other things. I absolutely cannot function properly when I allow myself to dwell too strongly on such issues. I'm convinced that women are not designed to handle such things, and that is part of why we are so suited to the home. Also, as followers of God we are not to be of this world. How can we set ourselves apart from it when we allow ourselves to constantly fear it?
God is sovereign over all things. Whether it is a salvation or a judgement, or something in between, it obviously fit into God's plans for this country to have Barack Obama elected. I pray for him every day, that he will have the wisdom to lead this country. I may not agree with him, but he will be my President, too.
Words like "secession" and "dictatorship" are flying around, as are comparisons of Obama to certain much-despised men of history. To compare Obama to Hitler, in my opinion, is not only foolish, but demeans the gravity of Hitler's memory itself. I see none of the mentally unstable, hate-based rhetoric in Obama, regardless of how socialist his ideas are.
Also, as to the end of the world that so many people assume is immanent...
I could take a long time describing how every time something goes wrong in the world, or a leader they don't like gets elected, certain groups of people like to cry "Apocalypse." But I won't. However, I will say this.
We do not know they day or the hour. No, we don't. I don't care how sure you are, who told you when it is, or why you think that way. We are not meant to know, precisely because if we DID know, we would all go mad. Not only that, but we would hide our true colors in an effort to "make right with God" before the end. Neither you nor I have any idea when this world is going to fall to pieces.
Therefore, wasting time worrying about it, or trying to pinpoint it, is taking away valuable time we could be using to do work for the Lord that is actually useful. He will provide, no matter what, or who, happens.
If I allow myself to become too wrapped up in matters of politics, I go crazy. I can't sleep, I chew my nails, among other things. I absolutely cannot function properly when I allow myself to dwell too strongly on such issues. I'm convinced that women are not designed to handle such things, and that is part of why we are so suited to the home. Also, as followers of God we are not to be of this world. How can we set ourselves apart from it when we allow ourselves to constantly fear it?
God is sovereign over all things. Whether it is a salvation or a judgement, or something in between, it obviously fit into God's plans for this country to have Barack Obama elected. I pray for him every day, that he will have the wisdom to lead this country. I may not agree with him, but he will be my President, too.
Words like "secession" and "dictatorship" are flying around, as are comparisons of Obama to certain much-despised men of history. To compare Obama to Hitler, in my opinion, is not only foolish, but demeans the gravity of Hitler's memory itself. I see none of the mentally unstable, hate-based rhetoric in Obama, regardless of how socialist his ideas are.
Also, as to the end of the world that so many people assume is immanent...
I could take a long time describing how every time something goes wrong in the world, or a leader they don't like gets elected, certain groups of people like to cry "Apocalypse." But I won't. However, I will say this.
We do not know they day or the hour. No, we don't. I don't care how sure you are, who told you when it is, or why you think that way. We are not meant to know, precisely because if we DID know, we would all go mad. Not only that, but we would hide our true colors in an effort to "make right with God" before the end. Neither you nor I have any idea when this world is going to fall to pieces.
Therefore, wasting time worrying about it, or trying to pinpoint it, is taking away valuable time we could be using to do work for the Lord that is actually useful. He will provide, no matter what, or who, happens.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Surprise, Surprise
No wonder Col. Brandon is my favorite Austen hero.
(Found on Day by Day, Lydia's blog.)
Once Upon a Time...
There was a 13 year old girl. On the first day of school in sixth grade, she noticed a new teacher among the junior high students. He was an older man, with silver hair. He wore a dress shirt, tie, and slacks, and stood taller than all during the gym assembly's pledge of allegiance. She noticed the way he held his fist to his side, and immediately pegged him as a Marine.
Sure enough, she was right. When she got to his class that morning, the dry-witted teacher proceeded to tell the class he was their worst nightmare. Then he spent the hour recounting his long life, his long marriage (41 years this year!), his service as a pilot in the Marines, eventually rising tot he rank of Major, and how he wound up teaching social studies in a Catholic middle school.
The teacher had a no-nonsense way of teaching history. Even though he had to deal with the textbooks provided to him, he rarely used them. Instead he lectured, telling things the books never dared to think on and correcting biased notions. In addition to his regular duties, he also persuaded the principal to place framed copies of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence in the main stairwell for all to see and be reminded of daily. He wore his dress uniform every Veteran's Day, and loved to show off his officer's sword. And he always seemed to be the only teacher capable of fixing the copier.
In eighth grade they began to study American history, and his passion for the subject became clearer than ever. It was an election year, and tensions were high between the children of staunch Republicans and the next generation of neo-hippies. In every issue, he urged us all to evaluate everything according to the precepts of our Religion and the government outlined in the Constitution. Nothing, from the Civil War to Women's Suffrage, went unexamined by the microscope mind of the Major.
In addition, the private conversations they had, during days when the class was finished early, were things she would treasure for years to come. She learned of the teacher's admiration for Winston Churchill, the story of how he met his wife, and how he had been present at the fall of Saigon. Her respect for him and the convictions he held only grew.
For most of the students it was just another class. But not for the girl. For her, it forever changed the way she thought.
Major Whitten, I am forever grateful to you. You turned a complacent young girl into an active participant in her nation, her education, and her life. To put it mildly, I am in your everlasting debt.
Thank you.
Sure enough, she was right. When she got to his class that morning, the dry-witted teacher proceeded to tell the class he was their worst nightmare. Then he spent the hour recounting his long life, his long marriage (41 years this year!), his service as a pilot in the Marines, eventually rising tot he rank of Major, and how he wound up teaching social studies in a Catholic middle school.
The teacher had a no-nonsense way of teaching history. Even though he had to deal with the textbooks provided to him, he rarely used them. Instead he lectured, telling things the books never dared to think on and correcting biased notions. In addition to his regular duties, he also persuaded the principal to place framed copies of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence in the main stairwell for all to see and be reminded of daily. He wore his dress uniform every Veteran's Day, and loved to show off his officer's sword. And he always seemed to be the only teacher capable of fixing the copier.
In eighth grade they began to study American history, and his passion for the subject became clearer than ever. It was an election year, and tensions were high between the children of staunch Republicans and the next generation of neo-hippies. In every issue, he urged us all to evaluate everything according to the precepts of our Religion and the government outlined in the Constitution. Nothing, from the Civil War to Women's Suffrage, went unexamined by the microscope mind of the Major.
In addition, the private conversations they had, during days when the class was finished early, were things she would treasure for years to come. She learned of the teacher's admiration for Winston Churchill, the story of how he met his wife, and how he had been present at the fall of Saigon. Her respect for him and the convictions he held only grew.
For most of the students it was just another class. But not for the girl. For her, it forever changed the way she thought.
Major Whitten, I am forever grateful to you. You turned a complacent young girl into an active participant in her nation, her education, and her life. To put it mildly, I am in your everlasting debt.
Thank you.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Release
The first few days of freedom from the music I threw out have been fantastic. I've barely thought about it at all. I've replaced it with film scores, hymns, classical pieces, and the occasional downloaded lecture. I've also picked up embroidery again to give my hands something to do, as I'm more able to think about two things at once.
Little by little, I feel the Holy Spirit convicting me. Things come to mind that I hadn't thought of before, and I feel contentment coming. However, there is unrest as well.
For one thing, I'm increasingly conflicted denominationally speaking. I pray that God will lead me to the path He intends me to follow.
And for another, my eyes have been opened to just how shaky the ground my family is on is. It feels like the house built on sand, and the rains loom on the horizon. I am constantly in prayer that God will use me to change the hearts of my parents from devotion to the world to devotion to Him. But the New Age "church" my mother attends is poisonous, and Jay goes to a "Christian" college that teaches some of the most corrupt doctrine I've ever heard and is littered with incompetant teachers. Needless to say, it does nothing for his opinion of conservative doctrine.
It is a daunting task that cuts to the very foundations of faith. It would be hard enough if my parents were strong, but merely misguided, Catholics or Protestants. But it runs deeper than that. Before I can even begin to convince them of the roles of men and women or God's design for the family, I have to convince them that the Word of God as handed down through generations is not the fabrications of a cartel of rich old men, nor is it irrelevant in the modern world.
It's not something I can do on my own strength, I know. I pray about often during the day.
But no matter what, I remind myself that He is sovereign. And I am more likely to win hearts for Him by going about my duties cheerfully than I am through any theological tirade.
Little by little, I feel the Holy Spirit convicting me. Things come to mind that I hadn't thought of before, and I feel contentment coming. However, there is unrest as well.
For one thing, I'm increasingly conflicted denominationally speaking. I pray that God will lead me to the path He intends me to follow.
And for another, my eyes have been opened to just how shaky the ground my family is on is. It feels like the house built on sand, and the rains loom on the horizon. I am constantly in prayer that God will use me to change the hearts of my parents from devotion to the world to devotion to Him. But the New Age "church" my mother attends is poisonous, and Jay goes to a "Christian" college that teaches some of the most corrupt doctrine I've ever heard and is littered with incompetant teachers. Needless to say, it does nothing for his opinion of conservative doctrine.
It is a daunting task that cuts to the very foundations of faith. It would be hard enough if my parents were strong, but merely misguided, Catholics or Protestants. But it runs deeper than that. Before I can even begin to convince them of the roles of men and women or God's design for the family, I have to convince them that the Word of God as handed down through generations is not the fabrications of a cartel of rich old men, nor is it irrelevant in the modern world.
It's not something I can do on my own strength, I know. I pray about often during the day.
But no matter what, I remind myself that He is sovereign. And I am more likely to win hearts for Him by going about my duties cheerfully than I am through any theological tirade.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Vexed
I really don't know why I didn't see this coming.
Shortly after my post about music earlier this year, my heart hardened. I began to be angry at religion and God for making me feel conflicted in the first place. I bounced, once again, toward the other end of the spectrum. And the way was frought with thorns.
Whether you despise or love secular music, you can't deny that God has said that he is Lord, and there are to be no others before him. Well, I had made myself an idol of this music.
My all-consuming love for and affinity with this music was, quite frankly, standing between God and myself. Whether or not all rock music is bad is beside the point; in my personal experience, I had made a god out of it.
I used to scoff at those far wiser than I when they worried that listening to such music, which is very bleak and angry, wasn't making my depression worse. But now I'm not so sure. I think it's no coincidence that my darkest hours were soundtracked by it.
But the kicker came on the way home from voting. When that awful word fell out of my mouth, I gasped and apologized profusely. And then I began to think, if I'm comfortable talking so around my mother, who is to say I won't around my husband or my children? What hypocrisy will I commit when I try to gaurd them from the negative things this world espouses, but am steeped in it myself? How can I tell my girls they are precious and treasured when the music I listen to says some pretty clear things about the worth of women?
I strive to be a lady, and ladies simply do not speak this way. Ladies are not desensitized to the foulest of profanities. As a lady, I can no longer listen to this, at least for a time. As a lady, I can no longer make a god out of a man and his music. I feel certain this is the right course. It will be interesting to see if I actually miss any of this when it's gone.
And so I open my iTunes, scroll down to N, take a deep breath, and take out the trash.
Shortly after my post about music earlier this year, my heart hardened. I began to be angry at religion and God for making me feel conflicted in the first place. I bounced, once again, toward the other end of the spectrum. And the way was frought with thorns.
Whether you despise or love secular music, you can't deny that God has said that he is Lord, and there are to be no others before him. Well, I had made myself an idol of this music.
My all-consuming love for and affinity with this music was, quite frankly, standing between God and myself. Whether or not all rock music is bad is beside the point; in my personal experience, I had made a god out of it.
I used to scoff at those far wiser than I when they worried that listening to such music, which is very bleak and angry, wasn't making my depression worse. But now I'm not so sure. I think it's no coincidence that my darkest hours were soundtracked by it.
But the kicker came on the way home from voting. When that awful word fell out of my mouth, I gasped and apologized profusely. And then I began to think, if I'm comfortable talking so around my mother, who is to say I won't around my husband or my children? What hypocrisy will I commit when I try to gaurd them from the negative things this world espouses, but am steeped in it myself? How can I tell my girls they are precious and treasured when the music I listen to says some pretty clear things about the worth of women?
I strive to be a lady, and ladies simply do not speak this way. Ladies are not desensitized to the foulest of profanities. As a lady, I can no longer listen to this, at least for a time. As a lady, I can no longer make a god out of a man and his music. I feel certain this is the right course. It will be interesting to see if I actually miss any of this when it's gone.
And so I open my iTunes, scroll down to N, take a deep breath, and take out the trash.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
In Fair Eureka...
Eureka Springs really is a wonderful little town, if you watch your step. (Literally and figuratively, they have some of the steepest staircases I've ever seen!) I'm considering either posting, or maybe putting together an Ebook for Christians wanting to vacation there. It has some very good Christian attractions, and some gorgeous old historic church buildings. But it's pretty much the "misfit bin" as one local puts it. If nothing else, it provides beauty unrivaled, and I hope to take you on a little tour here. :)
Here's T, our beloved Shih-Tzu, all ready to go!
Here we are just across the Arkansas border, taking a breather.
The sign for our charming little cottage...
...And my very soft bed.
A view of the magnificent Crescent Hotel from the gazebo on East Mountain, right up the road from the cottage.
Spring Street buildings.
The taffy machine at Sweet's Fudge Kitchen. (I highly reccommend the peppermint)
The Flatiron building. The Quilt Shop downstairs has some of the prettiest demitasse teacups I've ever seen!
The Basin Park Hotel, built in 1905. (For reference, it's to the left of the Flatiron.)
Pepper the working bunny. He'll hand you your receipt, bag, and change, coins and all! Plus, he gives bunny kisses.
The "Grand Old Lady" herself, the Crescent! (Built in 1886)
Our carriage tour driver and her adorable Yorkie, Princeton.
I'd be remiss if I didn't show you a real spring! This is called the Grotto, and it's a little cave that's always around 62 degrees! T went down to investigate, of course.
As you can see, he was worn out!
I managed to make it home with a book of paper dolls from the 1895 and 1896 Boston Herald issues, and a silver sixpence in a drawstring bag to save for my wedding! (Lord willing.) You know what they say...
Something old, something new
Something borrowed, something blue
And a silver sixpence in her shoe.
Here's T, our beloved Shih-Tzu, all ready to go!
Here we are just across the Arkansas border, taking a breather.
The sign for our charming little cottage...
...And my very soft bed.
A view of the magnificent Crescent Hotel from the gazebo on East Mountain, right up the road from the cottage.
Spring Street buildings.
The taffy machine at Sweet's Fudge Kitchen. (I highly reccommend the peppermint)
The Flatiron building. The Quilt Shop downstairs has some of the prettiest demitasse teacups I've ever seen!
The Basin Park Hotel, built in 1905. (For reference, it's to the left of the Flatiron.)
Pepper the working bunny. He'll hand you your receipt, bag, and change, coins and all! Plus, he gives bunny kisses.
The "Grand Old Lady" herself, the Crescent! (Built in 1886)
Our carriage tour driver and her adorable Yorkie, Princeton.
I'd be remiss if I didn't show you a real spring! This is called the Grotto, and it's a little cave that's always around 62 degrees! T went down to investigate, of course.
As you can see, he was worn out!
I managed to make it home with a book of paper dolls from the 1895 and 1896 Boston Herald issues, and a silver sixpence in a drawstring bag to save for my wedding! (Lord willing.) You know what they say...
Something old, something new
Something borrowed, something blue
And a silver sixpence in her shoe.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Vacation, Voting, and Vexation
My dear parents and I are bound tomorrow morning for Eureka Springs, a gorgeous little town in NW Arkansas. I hope to have many lovely pictures to show you upon our return Tuesday night.
What??? Tuesday??? But that's VOTING DAY!!!!!
Yes, it is, my friends, and this is my very first election ever. We could get into a debate about the vote for households vs. individuals, but since this blog isn't for that at this stage, and voting is my Constitutional right and duty, we shall just focus on the fact that I'm extremely proud to be a part of the history of our country.
This morning (way early) Mom and I hauled ourselves down to the county polling place for in-person absentee voting. (Jay hadn't had thought or had time to renew his address on his ID card, so he had to drive way out to where we used to live.) By the time we got there at 7:30, the sun had not yet risen and already the line wound along the building, through the parking lot, and down the street for a grand total of about four blocks. We stood in line until about 10:45 waiting, and then we cast our votes for the next President of the United States! As well as various local candidates and issues.
Let me make it clear that I'm not terribly fond of either of this year's offerings. But, Oklahoma makes it very difficult for third party candidates to get on the ticket, and it's illegal to write in names. So...I did the best that I could in the circumstances I was given. Not voting, in my opinion, is NOT an option.
As for the vexation, well...after I come back a rather serious post shall materialize. Last night I asked God, in the words of a great woman, to "hit me over the head with a two by four" if this path, a path I'm often conflicted about, is what He asks of me in this life.
Well, on the way home from voting, He did. A word popped out of my mouth that just mortified and astounded me by how easily it rolled off my tongue. In front of my mother! It's not at all a word a lady, or a gentleman for that matter, should ever, ever say.
Suffice it to say I know exactly where this word came from and exactly how I became desensitized to it.
What??? Tuesday??? But that's VOTING DAY!!!!!
Yes, it is, my friends, and this is my very first election ever. We could get into a debate about the vote for households vs. individuals, but since this blog isn't for that at this stage, and voting is my Constitutional right and duty, we shall just focus on the fact that I'm extremely proud to be a part of the history of our country.
This morning (way early) Mom and I hauled ourselves down to the county polling place for in-person absentee voting. (Jay hadn't had thought or had time to renew his address on his ID card, so he had to drive way out to where we used to live.) By the time we got there at 7:30, the sun had not yet risen and already the line wound along the building, through the parking lot, and down the street for a grand total of about four blocks. We stood in line until about 10:45 waiting, and then we cast our votes for the next President of the United States! As well as various local candidates and issues.
Let me make it clear that I'm not terribly fond of either of this year's offerings. But, Oklahoma makes it very difficult for third party candidates to get on the ticket, and it's illegal to write in names. So...I did the best that I could in the circumstances I was given. Not voting, in my opinion, is NOT an option.
As for the vexation, well...after I come back a rather serious post shall materialize. Last night I asked God, in the words of a great woman, to "hit me over the head with a two by four" if this path, a path I'm often conflicted about, is what He asks of me in this life.
Well, on the way home from voting, He did. A word popped out of my mouth that just mortified and astounded me by how easily it rolled off my tongue. In front of my mother! It's not at all a word a lady, or a gentleman for that matter, should ever, ever say.
Suffice it to say I know exactly where this word came from and exactly how I became desensitized to it.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Something Awesome!
Sense and Sensibility Patterns (remember that great apron and those little girl's dresses I posted?) now has ePatterns!
It's extremely cool, because not only are they more affordable to the cash-strapped among us (me!), but they're an immediate download. No waiting for your pattern to come in the mail!
Now, admittedly, I'll probably own every single pattern in physical form eventually. But if you hate waiting, or are pressed for time on a sewing project you want to undertake, this is an awesome solution.
You can find the newest ePattern offerings right here: http://www.sensibility.com/pattern/main/?page_id=50
It's extremely cool, because not only are they more affordable to the cash-strapped among us (me!), but they're an immediate download. No waiting for your pattern to come in the mail!
Now, admittedly, I'll probably own every single pattern in physical form eventually. But if you hate waiting, or are pressed for time on a sewing project you want to undertake, this is an awesome solution.
You can find the newest ePattern offerings right here: http://www.sensibility.com/pattern/main/?page_id=50
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I Hate to Give off the Impression
That the past few months have been nothing but agony. I've actually had some wonderful moments. Between a family reunion we hosted, a family vacation (which involved a bird's eye view of the Grand Canyon), concerts and performances, and the acquisition of, among other things, a lace parasol and a corset, I've certainly had quite a time.
But I've begun to notice a pattern. When in the grip of Darkness, I grow further and further from God and religion. I sink into a pit of petulant self-indulgence. But when things even out, I feel fantastic, and am much more able to focus on my duties as a daughter.
In any case, now that I'm outside my own mind, I can ease back into the joy I felt this past spring...and I look forward to sharing it with you all.
But I've begun to notice a pattern. When in the grip of Darkness, I grow further and further from God and religion. I sink into a pit of petulant self-indulgence. But when things even out, I feel fantastic, and am much more able to focus on my duties as a daughter.
In any case, now that I'm outside my own mind, I can ease back into the joy I felt this past spring...and I look forward to sharing it with you all.
Monday, October 27, 2008
May-October, on Fast Forward
Shortly after I took a posting hiatus...
Conflict with my best friend resulted in us not talking.
Around this same time I became extremely suicidal, to the point that I had to be hospitalized for seven days. During this time I relied very, very heavily on music to help get me through. After I got out, I felt closer to those songs I mentioned back then than ever. As a result, I began to have a serious crisis of faith, not at all helped by a pagan stepfather and a Mom who attends a Unity Church. Not to mention I didn't have any Christian friends in my immediate circle.
I spent the summer being less productive than I should have been and trying to mull over what everything meant. During this time I almost made a few decisions I know I would have sincerely regretted. August rolled around, I went to a concert that completely blew my mind and I thought I had made my decision.
But now I'm not so sure. I'm starting college in January and I have no idea what I want to major in or what I want to do with my life, again. I have absolutely no clue who Lydia is anymore, or what the future holds for her. Pray for me, please.
Conflict with my best friend resulted in us not talking.
Around this same time I became extremely suicidal, to the point that I had to be hospitalized for seven days. During this time I relied very, very heavily on music to help get me through. After I got out, I felt closer to those songs I mentioned back then than ever. As a result, I began to have a serious crisis of faith, not at all helped by a pagan stepfather and a Mom who attends a Unity Church. Not to mention I didn't have any Christian friends in my immediate circle.
I spent the summer being less productive than I should have been and trying to mull over what everything meant. During this time I almost made a few decisions I know I would have sincerely regretted. August rolled around, I went to a concert that completely blew my mind and I thought I had made my decision.
But now I'm not so sure. I'm starting college in January and I have no idea what I want to major in or what I want to do with my life, again. I have absolutely no clue who Lydia is anymore, or what the future holds for her. Pray for me, please.
Election Day Novena
Borrowed from Priests for Life via The Catholic Knight.
O God, we acknowledge you today as Lord,
Not only of individuals, but of nations and governments.
We thank you for the privilege
Of being able to organize ourselves politically
And of knowing that political loyalty
Does not have to mean disloyalty to you.
We thank you for your law,
Which our Founding Fathers acknowledged
And recognized as higher than any human law.
We thank you for the opportunity that this election year puts before us,
To exercise our solemn duty not only to vote,
But to influence countless others to vote,
And to vote correctly.
Lord, we pray that your people may be awakened.
Let them realize that while politics is not their salvation,
Their response to you requires that they be politically active.
Awaken your people to know that they are not called to be a sect fleeing the world
But rather a community of faith renewing the world.
Awaken them that the same hands lifted up to you in prayer
Are the hands that pull the lever in the voting booth;
That the same eyes that read your Word
Are the eyes that read the names on the ballot,
And that they do not cease to be Christians
When they enter the voting booth.
Awaken your people to a commitment to justice
To the sanctity of marriage and the family,
To the dignity of each individual human life,
And to the truth that human rights begin when human lives begin,
And not one moment later.
Lord, we rejoice today
That we are citizens of your kingdom.
May that make us all the more committed
To being faithful citizens on earth.
We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
O God, we acknowledge you today as Lord,
Not only of individuals, but of nations and governments.
We thank you for the privilege
Of being able to organize ourselves politically
And of knowing that political loyalty
Does not have to mean disloyalty to you.
We thank you for your law,
Which our Founding Fathers acknowledged
And recognized as higher than any human law.
We thank you for the opportunity that this election year puts before us,
To exercise our solemn duty not only to vote,
But to influence countless others to vote,
And to vote correctly.
Lord, we pray that your people may be awakened.
Let them realize that while politics is not their salvation,
Their response to you requires that they be politically active.
Awaken your people to know that they are not called to be a sect fleeing the world
But rather a community of faith renewing the world.
Awaken them that the same hands lifted up to you in prayer
Are the hands that pull the lever in the voting booth;
That the same eyes that read your Word
Are the eyes that read the names on the ballot,
And that they do not cease to be Christians
When they enter the voting booth.
Awaken your people to a commitment to justice
To the sanctity of marriage and the family,
To the dignity of each individual human life,
And to the truth that human rights begin when human lives begin,
And not one moment later.
Lord, we rejoice today
That we are citizens of your kingdom.
May that make us all the more committed
To being faithful citizens on earth.
We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Poking My Head Up
Perhaps someday I will be able to tell you all about everything that has gone on since I last posted.
For now, however, I would just like to sigh and lament that once again, we have been given a "historical" film. And once again it is frought with post-feminist thinking.
I am not a proponent of women bending to the will of abusive husbands; any such man who feels it justified to treat a woman so cannot make the claim of godliness. That being said...
The Duchess staring Kiera Knightley is like The Vagina Monologues in Georgian gowns. The entire message is fiercely anti-male.
We come away with the correct message indoctrinated; men are not to be trusted. Particularly older men. Particularly the ones we marry. Men are vile, lust-driven creatures who are cold, selfish, distant and cruel. Marriage is an institution of control, and any woman who engages in it invites oppression. Our only hope for happiness in such a wretched situation is the taking of lovers. No matter their gender. I even get the vibe, at several points, that our children hold us back from the true fulfillment we could achieve in their abscence.
Hopefully I can spare at least one misguided fellow lady from viewing this gilded travesty by placing this out in cyberspace.
For now, however, I would just like to sigh and lament that once again, we have been given a "historical" film. And once again it is frought with post-feminist thinking.
I am not a proponent of women bending to the will of abusive husbands; any such man who feels it justified to treat a woman so cannot make the claim of godliness. That being said...
The Duchess staring Kiera Knightley is like The Vagina Monologues in Georgian gowns. The entire message is fiercely anti-male.
We come away with the correct message indoctrinated; men are not to be trusted. Particularly older men. Particularly the ones we marry. Men are vile, lust-driven creatures who are cold, selfish, distant and cruel. Marriage is an institution of control, and any woman who engages in it invites oppression. Our only hope for happiness in such a wretched situation is the taking of lovers. No matter their gender. I even get the vibe, at several points, that our children hold us back from the true fulfillment we could achieve in their abscence.
Hopefully I can spare at least one misguided fellow lady from viewing this gilded travesty by placing this out in cyberspace.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Busy, Busy, Busy
Where does all the time go? I have an appointment this afternoon, there's a fundraiser at the Overholser Saturday...notwithstanding my usual duties.
Any time management tips?
Any time management tips?
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Feel Free to Call Me Out
But I'm incapable of apology at this point.
Discipline, the new Nine Inch Nails single, is fantastically danceable.
Discipline, the new Nine Inch Nails single, is fantastically danceable.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Currently Reading...
The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux.
For about, oh, the 80th time.
It's such a good book! It's part detective novel, part Gothic drama, part study of character. Erik is just so tragic.
For about, oh, the 80th time.
It's such a good book! It's part detective novel, part Gothic drama, part study of character. Erik is just so tragic.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Now That I've Had Time...
To mull over what happened the other day, I'm going to go into it with a bit more detail. Mostly because I need the encouragement I know I'll get from you guys. You're all so wonderful, I hope you realize that.
In short, I was explaining my LAF bumper sticker after dance class this week, and one of my fellow dancers decided to rip me a new one in an email that night.
Basically, first she went on and on about how stay-at-home mothers are bad for children because they smother them and spoil them. And that being a stay-at-home mother isn't enough to "satisfy" your average intelligent woman.
Then she proceeded to attack my "Naive and antiquated" views on "women being Mommies and men taking care of them." And that I need to get real, because the "knight in shining armor" I pray for is never going to show up, and I'm just going to end up jaded.
She berated me for wearing old-fashioned, romantic clothing. She tore me down for enjoying sewing. "I always hear about how you want to be a mommy, but I never hear about you exploring your talents."
Just because a good number of my interests are on the domestic side doesn't mean they aren't legitimate interests! And just because I spend more of my time serving my family than indulging in hobbies 24/7 doesn't mean there's something wrong with me.
Does it?
I'm just at a loss so see how arrogant and jaded a 21 year-old would have to be to assume she has the wisdom and right to tell me these things.
In short, I was explaining my LAF bumper sticker after dance class this week, and one of my fellow dancers decided to rip me a new one in an email that night.
Basically, first she went on and on about how stay-at-home mothers are bad for children because they smother them and spoil them. And that being a stay-at-home mother isn't enough to "satisfy" your average intelligent woman.
Then she proceeded to attack my "Naive and antiquated" views on "women being Mommies and men taking care of them." And that I need to get real, because the "knight in shining armor" I pray for is never going to show up, and I'm just going to end up jaded.
She berated me for wearing old-fashioned, romantic clothing. She tore me down for enjoying sewing. "I always hear about how you want to be a mommy, but I never hear about you exploring your talents."
Just because a good number of my interests are on the domestic side doesn't mean they aren't legitimate interests! And just because I spend more of my time serving my family than indulging in hobbies 24/7 doesn't mean there's something wrong with me.
Does it?
I'm just at a loss so see how arrogant and jaded a 21 year-old would have to be to assume she has the wisdom and right to tell me these things.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Well, well
Heaven forbid I should tell a friend of mine I'm not a feminist.
I've never felt so ganged-up on in my life, and by people I usually trust, no less. I didn't even say I was an anti-feminist...just that I'm not a feminist.
Ouch.
I don't feel all that well right now.
I've never felt so ganged-up on in my life, and by people I usually trust, no less. I didn't even say I was an anti-feminist...just that I'm not a feminist.
Ouch.
I don't feel all that well right now.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Please Pray, and a Playlist
My great uncle Bill passed away recently. We weren't close, but I'm not sure how well Dad is taking it, so any prayers would be appreciated.
That being said, I'd like to give ya'll a little more insight into my world. So, I decided to whip up a playlist to show you what I'm listening to, at least right now. It changes often, but these are my most-played songs as of this week.
The Obligatory Note: I don't necessarily endorse the ideologies or other relevant aspects of the artists contained herein, etc. etc.
Stars and Butterflies - the new Pride and Prejudice has a beautiful score. This is sort of my 'happy song,' and I put it on when I wake up a lot.
La Follia - I love, love, love this piece. It's from the Baroque period, and is rather long, but worth it. I'm a sucker for violin.
Angels - This is my Mom's current favorite song. We're both big fans of groups that combine heavier rock with classical elements.
The Mystic's Dream - I love Loreena McKennitt, and this is my favorite track off of The Mask and Mirror
The Mummer's Dance - The best track from The Book of Secrets
Come to Jesus - I bought this CD when it came out, and wore it to bits. I love Mindy Smith's voice.
Fields of Gold - This song always makes me smile. I've loved it since I was little.
Lacrymosa - A haunting piece from Mozart's Requiem.
Lacrymosa - And a fantastic bit of sampling in a rock song.
Moonlight Sonata - what's not to love?
Ta-da! There you have it. Feel free to listen, repeat, skip, etc. :)
NOTE: if it's acting up or loading slowly, try clicking "Standalone player"
That being said, I'd like to give ya'll a little more insight into my world. So, I decided to whip up a playlist to show you what I'm listening to, at least right now. It changes often, but these are my most-played songs as of this week.
The Obligatory Note: I don't necessarily endorse the ideologies or other relevant aspects of the artists contained herein, etc. etc.
Stars and Butterflies - the new Pride and Prejudice has a beautiful score. This is sort of my 'happy song,' and I put it on when I wake up a lot.
La Follia - I love, love, love this piece. It's from the Baroque period, and is rather long, but worth it. I'm a sucker for violin.
Angels - This is my Mom's current favorite song. We're both big fans of groups that combine heavier rock with classical elements.
The Mystic's Dream - I love Loreena McKennitt, and this is my favorite track off of The Mask and Mirror
The Mummer's Dance - The best track from The Book of Secrets
Come to Jesus - I bought this CD when it came out, and wore it to bits. I love Mindy Smith's voice.
Fields of Gold - This song always makes me smile. I've loved it since I was little.
Lacrymosa - A haunting piece from Mozart's Requiem.
Lacrymosa - And a fantastic bit of sampling in a rock song.
Moonlight Sonata - what's not to love?
Ta-da! There you have it. Feel free to listen, repeat, skip, etc. :)
NOTE: if it's acting up or loading slowly, try clicking "Standalone player"
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Change of Sewing Plans
You'll notice that my little Sewing Projects list has changed a bit...I'm pushing the Rococo Blouse aside for a short while. Why?
Simply because of my recently acquired position as a voluneer at the Overholser Mansion, a tour home in our city.
I'm going to be helping out extensively in the planning of their Overholser Tea, which is this May. As the house was built in the early 1900s, the theme is period-correct to the time.
Enter my newest conquest, the 1910s Tea Gown!
I'm thinking...white and peach.
Simply because of my recently acquired position as a voluneer at the Overholser Mansion, a tour home in our city.
I'm going to be helping out extensively in the planning of their Overholser Tea, which is this May. As the house was built in the early 1900s, the theme is period-correct to the time.
Enter my newest conquest, the 1910s Tea Gown!
I'm thinking...white and peach.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Difficult.
Oh, this is hard. This is so, so, hard.
Sitting in my iTunes right now are 171 songs by a single artist, which is technically a band, but not. The music of this artist has pretty much come to represent an entire chapter in my life, and I can pinpoint exact moods with certain songs. I know all the lyrics by heart. I had the obligatory lead-singer crush. I scrimped and saved for concert tickets. Needless to say, I'm very attached to this music.
With the exception of the 45-ish instrumentals, most of the songs have less-than-savory lyrics. They're either blatantly inappropriate, full of awful words, just downright contagiously angry, or even anti-God in some cases.
But, man...they're just...clever. And catchy. And brilliantly executed.
And because they mean so much to me, they're indescribably difficult to get rid of. Even though all they do is cause awful thoughts and bring back awful memories.
I know they need to go. I know I should chuck the lot of them and never think twice about it. But I'm just not that strong.
It's so hard.
Sitting in my iTunes right now are 171 songs by a single artist, which is technically a band, but not. The music of this artist has pretty much come to represent an entire chapter in my life, and I can pinpoint exact moods with certain songs. I know all the lyrics by heart. I had the obligatory lead-singer crush. I scrimped and saved for concert tickets. Needless to say, I'm very attached to this music.
With the exception of the 45-ish instrumentals, most of the songs have less-than-savory lyrics. They're either blatantly inappropriate, full of awful words, just downright contagiously angry, or even anti-God in some cases.
But, man...they're just...clever. And catchy. And brilliantly executed.
And because they mean so much to me, they're indescribably difficult to get rid of. Even though all they do is cause awful thoughts and bring back awful memories.
I know they need to go. I know I should chuck the lot of them and never think twice about it. But I'm just not that strong.
It's so hard.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Posted Today
A friend of mine talked me into getting a Myspace, so I thought I might as well use it for good. I posted this today.
Ladies and Gentlemen...
What you are about to read may shock and even offend you. I ask that you set aside your presuppositions, as the message I bear is urgent.
We’ve been lied to. All of us. Since we were old enough to absorb information, we have been fed a steady diet of complete and boldfaced deception. And for what? To serve the agendas of a now elite few, and, in many cases, for the sake of money.
Guys! You have been dehumanized. You have been brought up to believe that you are nothing more than animals who can’t control their urges. You’ve been told your lot in life is to spend your younger years as a promiscuous boozehound devoid of goal or honor. That all you can expect to become is a bumbling, obese idiot who is crude, lazy, and helpless without someone to direct you.
Girls! What about us? We’ve been led to believe we’re nothing more than eye candy, measured by the shape of our lips, the tanness of our skin, and the circumference of our thighs. We’re playthings in the eyes of the world, to be used, cheated on, and laughed about behhind our backs.
Guys, you’ve been slighted by a school system that forces you to sit still from preschool on. And by a culture that, through the power of suggestions, has robbed you of your God-given ability to lead.
Girls, we’ve been ordered to repress our instincts, to just dry up. We trade what we are born to be for a life chasing a perfect model of impossible self-sufficiency, and are perplexed when we wind up unhappy.
Yes, we’ve all been lied to.
But let me let you in on a little secret, one that a lot of people don’t want you to know.
Men, you were born to be Regents of the World. To lead, to pioneer, and to protect. You were made to do hard things, accomplish unbelievable goals, and raise civilizations from nothingness. It is you who lays the foundations, who slays the dragons.
Women, you were created for a beautiful purpose. You are designed to sustain nations. To give birth to children that can collectively shake the world. The future belongs to the woman who has raised her children well. It is us, the ladies, who set the standard of the worth of society.
Men, you have been told to get in line and keep your head down. But what about George Washington? Patrick Henry? Martin Luther King, Jr.?
Women, you’ve been told that "well-behaved" women never make history. I charge you to look to Dolly Madison, The Botkin Sisters, and to Mary herself.
I dare you not to swallow anymore lies.
I dare you to believe that we, male and female, are worth more.
I dare you to believe that we have a purpose.
And I dare you to believe we can accomplish it.
Ladies and Gentlemen...
What you are about to read may shock and even offend you. I ask that you set aside your presuppositions, as the message I bear is urgent.
We’ve been lied to. All of us. Since we were old enough to absorb information, we have been fed a steady diet of complete and boldfaced deception. And for what? To serve the agendas of a now elite few, and, in many cases, for the sake of money.
Guys! You have been dehumanized. You have been brought up to believe that you are nothing more than animals who can’t control their urges. You’ve been told your lot in life is to spend your younger years as a promiscuous boozehound devoid of goal or honor. That all you can expect to become is a bumbling, obese idiot who is crude, lazy, and helpless without someone to direct you.
Girls! What about us? We’ve been led to believe we’re nothing more than eye candy, measured by the shape of our lips, the tanness of our skin, and the circumference of our thighs. We’re playthings in the eyes of the world, to be used, cheated on, and laughed about behhind our backs.
Guys, you’ve been slighted by a school system that forces you to sit still from preschool on. And by a culture that, through the power of suggestions, has robbed you of your God-given ability to lead.
Girls, we’ve been ordered to repress our instincts, to just dry up. We trade what we are born to be for a life chasing a perfect model of impossible self-sufficiency, and are perplexed when we wind up unhappy.
Yes, we’ve all been lied to.
But let me let you in on a little secret, one that a lot of people don’t want you to know.
Men, you were born to be Regents of the World. To lead, to pioneer, and to protect. You were made to do hard things, accomplish unbelievable goals, and raise civilizations from nothingness. It is you who lays the foundations, who slays the dragons.
Women, you were created for a beautiful purpose. You are designed to sustain nations. To give birth to children that can collectively shake the world. The future belongs to the woman who has raised her children well. It is us, the ladies, who set the standard of the worth of society.
Men, you have been told to get in line and keep your head down. But what about George Washington? Patrick Henry? Martin Luther King, Jr.?
Women, you’ve been told that "well-behaved" women never make history. I charge you to look to Dolly Madison, The Botkin Sisters, and to Mary herself.
I dare you not to swallow anymore lies.
I dare you to believe that we, male and female, are worth more.
I dare you to believe that we have a purpose.
And I dare you to believe we can accomplish it.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
A Slightly Heebie-Jeebie Inducing Confession
I. Love. Spiders.
Every time I find one in the house, I either let it "run alive" or, if it's a large type like a Wolf Spider, I catch it in a cup and take it out. When we moved into the house, it had been vacant for a while. You know what that means. More than once last summer I found a full, abandoned egg sac somewhere in the house and ever-so-carefully collected it and moved it to a protected spot outside...I even got to watch one hatch in the fall. It was absolutely stunning, with all of the little baby spiders putting out their lines of web, glistening in the sunset as they wafted away. Last fall I took a web walk with my camera when all of the new babies had matured and built webs everywhere.
I've even been known to discover long-term residents and grow fond of them. For example, last year we had Dierdre, an orb spider who built very ambitious webs that somtimes had fifteen foot-long support threads, and Phineas, a pale grey hunter smaller than my pinkie nail.
Yeah. I know, I'm crazy. But I love them! They're beautiful, and fascinating to watch and study.
I love reading about and identifying the different species, finding out how they build webs and reproduce, and everything else. They're one of God's great marvels. Thef act that each one in born with the inherent knowledge of how to build such amazingly complex structures! And not only that, their bodies produce everything they need. They can even survive without bugs to eat, because their digestive system can process the protein in their silk.
So, anyway, if anyone ever has a question about spiders...well, you know who to ask. ;) And next time you're tempted to smish one, stop and think about how truly marvelous they are.
Jenine, Mistress of the Mailbox.
Every time I find one in the house, I either let it "run alive" or, if it's a large type like a Wolf Spider, I catch it in a cup and take it out. When we moved into the house, it had been vacant for a while. You know what that means. More than once last summer I found a full, abandoned egg sac somewhere in the house and ever-so-carefully collected it and moved it to a protected spot outside...I even got to watch one hatch in the fall. It was absolutely stunning, with all of the little baby spiders putting out their lines of web, glistening in the sunset as they wafted away. Last fall I took a web walk with my camera when all of the new babies had matured and built webs everywhere.
I've even been known to discover long-term residents and grow fond of them. For example, last year we had Dierdre, an orb spider who built very ambitious webs that somtimes had fifteen foot-long support threads, and Phineas, a pale grey hunter smaller than my pinkie nail.
Yeah. I know, I'm crazy. But I love them! They're beautiful, and fascinating to watch and study.
I love reading about and identifying the different species, finding out how they build webs and reproduce, and everything else. They're one of God's great marvels. Thef act that each one in born with the inherent knowledge of how to build such amazingly complex structures! And not only that, their bodies produce everything they need. They can even survive without bugs to eat, because their digestive system can process the protein in their silk.
So, anyway, if anyone ever has a question about spiders...well, you know who to ask. ;) And next time you're tempted to smish one, stop and think about how truly marvelous they are.
Jenine, Mistress of the Mailbox.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
*gasp* Tagged!
Dear Maggie at Don't Know What I'm Doing has tagged me...This should be interesting.
What I was doing 10 years ago:
Ten years ago, I was seven years old. Wow. This time ten years ago, I was getting to know my then-future stepfather. I can't remember exactly, but by now, he and Mom were probably engaged. I'll admit, I wasn't exactly warm to the idea at the time. I'm greatful God has since worked in my heart to change that. They were married in July in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I was also in school, obviously. Second grade, I believe. That would have made Mrs. Funk my teacher. She loved honeybees, and took us on a field trip to a bee farm.
Five things on my To Do List today:
1. Straighten up
2. Vacuum
3. Go to my doctor's appointment
4. Read a chapter
5. Go to dance
Snacks I enjoy:
Cheese nachos
Granny Smith apples
Raisins
sunflower kernels
Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Ah, what a thought. First thing, I'd pay off my parent's house, and buy my own in Eureka Springs for the future. Then I'd give several million to all of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, etc. Maybe make a Family Fund that anyone who needed it could access. Then I'd help out my friend's father with their bills, and set up her aunt and uncle (and their six kids). I'd probably send a bit the way of my readers, as well. :) Finally, I'd go crazy with patterns and fabric and books and not emerge from my room for six months, once I've created a wardrobe that spans the 15th-19th centuries.
Five places I have lived:
A farm in the countryside by Cordell, Oklahoma
Clinton, Oklahoma
A townhouse in Oklahoma City
Yukon, Oklahoma
Back to OKC (current)
Five jobs I have had:
Babysitter
Cashier
Unofficial Secretary
Short-order Seamstress
Stay-at-Home Daughter!!!
Five people I want to know more about (a nice way of saying TAG!):
Everly P at Clickety~Clack
Leigh at A Lady's Wistful Moments
Emma at Charming the Birds from the Trees
Michelle at Ave Maria
...That's all I can think of...
What I was doing 10 years ago:
Ten years ago, I was seven years old. Wow. This time ten years ago, I was getting to know my then-future stepfather. I can't remember exactly, but by now, he and Mom were probably engaged. I'll admit, I wasn't exactly warm to the idea at the time. I'm greatful God has since worked in my heart to change that. They were married in July in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I was also in school, obviously. Second grade, I believe. That would have made Mrs. Funk my teacher. She loved honeybees, and took us on a field trip to a bee farm.
Five things on my To Do List today:
1. Straighten up
2. Vacuum
3. Go to my doctor's appointment
4. Read a chapter
5. Go to dance
Snacks I enjoy:
Cheese nachos
Granny Smith apples
Raisins
sunflower kernels
Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Ah, what a thought. First thing, I'd pay off my parent's house, and buy my own in Eureka Springs for the future. Then I'd give several million to all of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, etc. Maybe make a Family Fund that anyone who needed it could access. Then I'd help out my friend's father with their bills, and set up her aunt and uncle (and their six kids). I'd probably send a bit the way of my readers, as well. :) Finally, I'd go crazy with patterns and fabric and books and not emerge from my room for six months, once I've created a wardrobe that spans the 15th-19th centuries.
Five places I have lived:
A farm in the countryside by Cordell, Oklahoma
Clinton, Oklahoma
A townhouse in Oklahoma City
Yukon, Oklahoma
Back to OKC (current)
Five jobs I have had:
Babysitter
Cashier
Unofficial Secretary
Short-order Seamstress
Stay-at-Home Daughter!!!
Five people I want to know more about (a nice way of saying TAG!):
Everly P at Clickety~Clack
Leigh at A Lady's Wistful Moments
Emma at Charming the Birds from the Trees
Michelle at Ave Maria
...That's all I can think of...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
What a Weekend!
I hope you all had a wonderful weekend, whether you keep Easter or not!
My grandparents came in from Arkansas and were with us from Friday until Monday; I'm always glad to see them. I also got to see my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and....my cousin's six month old! Baby Marshall is the absolute sweetest thing you'll ever see. My stepdad (his godfather) spent nearly half an hour playing with him, and it was the sweetest thing in the world to see, if a bit nerve-wracking! Men most definately play with babies differently than women do! :)
Our Sunday dinner was delicious. We had brown-sugar ham, fresh green beans, black-eyed peas, ambrosia, and lime jello salad. For dessert, we had a coconut cake which I baked from a recipe in Taste of the South, and an extremely unusual, but very decadent key lime bread pudding, also my domain, from a recipe Mom got at the Point Clear Grand Hotel in Alabama.
We went to an absolutely beautiful Mass, where all the stops had been pulled out. The music was exquisite, and the priest spoke well. Mom and I were just about in tears by the time it was over.
Through all this, Mimi and I found time to watch the Kate Beckinsale version of Emma on Masterpiece Theatre, which I highly reccommend to even the most marginal Jane Austen fan. It was delightful, and superior to the Gwyneth Paltrow version, in my opinion. I am a little miffed at the fact that I caught a preview for their new Sense and Sensibility, and they seem to have inserted a highly inappropriate plot device surrounding Marianne and Willoughby. Jane must be spinning in her grave.
I must say, it's something of a relief to be returning to my daily routine. The kitchen is finally back in ship shape!
My grandparents came in from Arkansas and were with us from Friday until Monday; I'm always glad to see them. I also got to see my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and....my cousin's six month old! Baby Marshall is the absolute sweetest thing you'll ever see. My stepdad (his godfather) spent nearly half an hour playing with him, and it was the sweetest thing in the world to see, if a bit nerve-wracking! Men most definately play with babies differently than women do! :)
Our Sunday dinner was delicious. We had brown-sugar ham, fresh green beans, black-eyed peas, ambrosia, and lime jello salad. For dessert, we had a coconut cake which I baked from a recipe in Taste of the South, and an extremely unusual, but very decadent key lime bread pudding, also my domain, from a recipe Mom got at the Point Clear Grand Hotel in Alabama.
We went to an absolutely beautiful Mass, where all the stops had been pulled out. The music was exquisite, and the priest spoke well. Mom and I were just about in tears by the time it was over.
Through all this, Mimi and I found time to watch the Kate Beckinsale version of Emma on Masterpiece Theatre, which I highly reccommend to even the most marginal Jane Austen fan. It was delightful, and superior to the Gwyneth Paltrow version, in my opinion. I am a little miffed at the fact that I caught a preview for their new Sense and Sensibility, and they seem to have inserted a highly inappropriate plot device surrounding Marianne and Willoughby. Jane must be spinning in her grave.
I must say, it's something of a relief to be returning to my daily routine. The kitchen is finally back in ship shape!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Swamped
Sorry I've been so absent...m grandparents are coming in for Easter, and this involved quite the list of preparations. I'll be back Monday.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Sewing Post
Everly, to answer your questions...I myself do not have a copy of that catalogue, my grandmother in Arkansas does, though. A worthy splurge is the Vogue Sewing Book, which is available at any Barnes and Noble for $30, but it looks like there are some lower-priced used copies on Amazon. It goes into detail about colors, patterns, textures, and all manner of cuts and garment variations.
If I were you, first, I'd either get a book or look online and learn some basic stitches, or, if you have a machine, information on that. Sometimes fabric and craft stores have demonstrations or classes, as well. The only training I had was one day making a nightgown with my grandmother. Aside from that, I'm self-taught. If youhave a machine, look in the owner's manual and see how to set it for various fabrics. Put it on a light setting and practice straight lines on a piece of notebook paper.
If you haven't got a machine, don't fret. I do all my work by hand! Just pick up some basic needles, a bit of white thread, and some scraps of fabric (if you buy it, 1/4 yard of 99 cent muslin is just fine.) And practice basic stitches. Do this until you're comfortable.
Then get a tape measure and take down your measurements before you go to the store, so that you'll be able to look and see which pattern size you are. They're usually off a couple as compared to retail sizing. Look through the Simplicity and McCalls catalogues. Both of them have Easy sections, and that's a great place to start. Also, often times Hancock and Hobby Lobby put patterns on sale for a dollar apiece. Once you find something you like, look at the suggested fabrics and the amount you need, and pick something out. Sales are a great thing to take advantage of here, too!
From there, just follow the instructions on your pattern! It'll show you how to lay it out to cut it, what order to piece it in, and pretty much anything else you need to know.
As for some pictures, I've managed to pull a few together.
Here's a skirt I made from instructions online:
I've also got this wonderful apron I made from a Sense and Sensibility pattern:
Also, I've got the Easter dress I made for a friend's girl. It looked adorable on. The pattern is also from S&S:
Aside from that, most of my sewing goes to people other than myself, so I don't have a lot of photos. More are coming, though!
If I were you, first, I'd either get a book or look online and learn some basic stitches, or, if you have a machine, information on that. Sometimes fabric and craft stores have demonstrations or classes, as well. The only training I had was one day making a nightgown with my grandmother. Aside from that, I'm self-taught. If youhave a machine, look in the owner's manual and see how to set it for various fabrics. Put it on a light setting and practice straight lines on a piece of notebook paper.
If you haven't got a machine, don't fret. I do all my work by hand! Just pick up some basic needles, a bit of white thread, and some scraps of fabric (if you buy it, 1/4 yard of 99 cent muslin is just fine.) And practice basic stitches. Do this until you're comfortable.
Then get a tape measure and take down your measurements before you go to the store, so that you'll be able to look and see which pattern size you are. They're usually off a couple as compared to retail sizing. Look through the Simplicity and McCalls catalogues. Both of them have Easy sections, and that's a great place to start. Also, often times Hancock and Hobby Lobby put patterns on sale for a dollar apiece. Once you find something you like, look at the suggested fabrics and the amount you need, and pick something out. Sales are a great thing to take advantage of here, too!
From there, just follow the instructions on your pattern! It'll show you how to lay it out to cut it, what order to piece it in, and pretty much anything else you need to know.
As for some pictures, I've managed to pull a few together.
Here's a skirt I made from instructions online:
I've also got this wonderful apron I made from a Sense and Sensibility pattern:
Also, I've got the Easter dress I made for a friend's girl. It looked adorable on. The pattern is also from S&S:
Aside from that, most of my sewing goes to people other than myself, so I don't have a lot of photos. More are coming, though!
A Thank You
Thank you ladies for the thoughtful replies!
Leigh - You're very right, I didn't do it for attention purposes. My parents are rather fond of it themselves; I would never have done it without their permission. I feel a bit of a connection with women of the past and across cultures with my little jewel.
Everly - You're absolutely right about legalism. It's a reason I'm personally glad that as a Catholic I have access to the teachings I do. I do know it's not for everyone; I hope this blog never causes a denominational clash, as I respect all true Christian paths, as well as the path of our Jewish fathers.
Maggie - It is indeed confusing, and I'm normally glad to have the guidance of the Church, but in situations such as these, where everyone seems to have a differing opinion, I do like to go back to the source myself. Thank you so much for the links!
Thanks also for your concern about me denying myself too much. The fact of the matter is I led a very secular life for a long time, and so it's important for me to check everything out. I still have my music, my sometimes obsessive hobbies, and my (many!) books. My dancing is also a very human pleasure in which I engage.*
Some things, of course, have to be thrown out. The best example is my music. A few songs I kept around because of the beat or music, but which had trashy lyrics, definitely had to go. In one case, I had several albums from the same artist that I finally decided were better off in the garbage, because the lyrics were either promiscuous, anti-God, or just plain angry and depressing. At the same time, I'll delete a song or two from a particular artist while keeping quite a bit around. (Heaven help the fool who comes between me and my Sting) And then there are some things that are just fine the way they are.
My main purpose in my more serious posts is, of course, to gain advice from everyone who dips in about the issues I have some trouble with. It's no substitute for prayer, I know, but you all are a huge help. It's extremly helpful to me to take in varied ideas about the same subject, especially when my own scope is narrow. And I thank you all for responding so kindly.
*A tangent about that: Last night I had my first class after my decision to stop dancing publicly, and it was amazing. I was able to see myself in a different light, and a smile kept tugging at the corners of my mouth. When I'm not worried about what other people (an audience) would think, it becomes all about me being thankful to God for making me a woman. And, yes, a few daydreams about the future. :)
Leigh - You're very right, I didn't do it for attention purposes. My parents are rather fond of it themselves; I would never have done it without their permission. I feel a bit of a connection with women of the past and across cultures with my little jewel.
Everly - You're absolutely right about legalism. It's a reason I'm personally glad that as a Catholic I have access to the teachings I do. I do know it's not for everyone; I hope this blog never causes a denominational clash, as I respect all true Christian paths, as well as the path of our Jewish fathers.
Maggie - It is indeed confusing, and I'm normally glad to have the guidance of the Church, but in situations such as these, where everyone seems to have a differing opinion, I do like to go back to the source myself. Thank you so much for the links!
Thanks also for your concern about me denying myself too much. The fact of the matter is I led a very secular life for a long time, and so it's important for me to check everything out. I still have my music, my sometimes obsessive hobbies, and my (many!) books. My dancing is also a very human pleasure in which I engage.*
Some things, of course, have to be thrown out. The best example is my music. A few songs I kept around because of the beat or music, but which had trashy lyrics, definitely had to go. In one case, I had several albums from the same artist that I finally decided were better off in the garbage, because the lyrics were either promiscuous, anti-God, or just plain angry and depressing. At the same time, I'll delete a song or two from a particular artist while keeping quite a bit around. (Heaven help the fool who comes between me and my Sting) And then there are some things that are just fine the way they are.
My main purpose in my more serious posts is, of course, to gain advice from everyone who dips in about the issues I have some trouble with. It's no substitute for prayer, I know, but you all are a huge help. It's extremly helpful to me to take in varied ideas about the same subject, especially when my own scope is narrow. And I thank you all for responding so kindly.
*A tangent about that: Last night I had my first class after my decision to stop dancing publicly, and it was amazing. I was able to see myself in a different light, and a smile kept tugging at the corners of my mouth. When I'm not worried about what other people (an audience) would think, it becomes all about me being thankful to God for making me a woman. And, yes, a few daydreams about the future. :)
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
More Seriousness
Yes, that's right. Another serious post. I can't help myself; I'm making a life-altering transition here, and I'm trying hard to make it as completely as possible.
I would like to show you something I got this January. Something I find very pretty, even classy, but something about which I am extremely torn.
Frankly, I'm at a loss to interpret the Biblical stance on piercings. I've heard very convincing arguments both ways. The passage in Leviticus 21 refers to a specific practice of manefesting inner pain in outward cutting or gashes, or so I am told. There are several references to ear piercing in the Bible...but in context, it is a mark of enslavement.
Once again, I seek the consel my readers, as you all come from different perspectives, many of you are older and wiser, and you've all followed God closely longer than I. If there's some proof of its prohibition that I have missed, I'll throw the thing out, but right now I'm lost in a mire of differing opinions, from those who oppose it from an extrabiblical societal stance, to the "Do whatever the heck you want" idiology of people who throw out Mosaic Law althogether. :/
I would like to show you something I got this January. Something I find very pretty, even classy, but something about which I am extremely torn.
Frankly, I'm at a loss to interpret the Biblical stance on piercings. I've heard very convincing arguments both ways. The passage in Leviticus 21 refers to a specific practice of manefesting inner pain in outward cutting or gashes, or so I am told. There are several references to ear piercing in the Bible...but in context, it is a mark of enslavement.
Once again, I seek the consel my readers, as you all come from different perspectives, many of you are older and wiser, and you've all followed God closely longer than I. If there's some proof of its prohibition that I have missed, I'll throw the thing out, but right now I'm lost in a mire of differing opinions, from those who oppose it from an extrabiblical societal stance, to the "Do whatever the heck you want" idiology of people who throw out Mosaic Law althogether. :/
Monday, March 10, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
A Beautiful Sunday
Today it was just too gorgeous to stay inside! Here's the view from our yard:
So I grabbed the remains of a stale loaf of bread and went to feed our neighborhood geese. They were very appreciative.
I managed to catch a few signs of the changing seasons; the first crocus I've seen so far, and a bird's nest!
How blessed are we, that God allows us to live in this wonderful world.
So I grabbed the remains of a stale loaf of bread and went to feed our neighborhood geese. They were very appreciative.
I managed to catch a few signs of the changing seasons; the first crocus I've seen so far, and a bird's nest!
How blessed are we, that God allows us to live in this wonderful world.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
*Ouch*
I had my first car accident today. I was at fault; I turned with a car blocking my view and slammed (with low momentum, luckily) into the side of another car. I hit the back tire; thankfully, no one was hurt. The people were very nice and calm. Their car was pretty torn up, but my damage doesn't go beyond the superficial. Luckily, because of the way Beetles are pieced, we only have to replace a small panel.
To add to the fortune, the other car didn't have their current insurance with them. We had a very nice police officer come to the scene who chose not to ticket them for it, and as such didn't ticket me, either. Add to it that my parents aren't angry or upset with me, and for a first accident, it wasn't bad. The Lord's hand was on me today.
I'm going to have to take a part-time job to pay the insurance deductable, so I picked up an application at the fabric store by my house...We shall see how it goes.
In better news, I picked up a nice dress pattern for 99 cents at Hobby Lobby today. I'll mostly be making views A or D, but I may make a couple of the sleeveless ones to go under sweaters or jackets. I also got the most beautiful fabric I've ever seen, a soft white cotton with teeny eyelets and a purple rose print. It was pricey, so I just got enough to make a blouse with, I think I'll try my Dawn Anderson pattern.
If you all have time, please say a little prayer for me, that today will be my last accident for a while! :)
To add to the fortune, the other car didn't have their current insurance with them. We had a very nice police officer come to the scene who chose not to ticket them for it, and as such didn't ticket me, either. Add to it that my parents aren't angry or upset with me, and for a first accident, it wasn't bad. The Lord's hand was on me today.
I'm going to have to take a part-time job to pay the insurance deductable, so I picked up an application at the fabric store by my house...We shall see how it goes.
In better news, I picked up a nice dress pattern for 99 cents at Hobby Lobby today. I'll mostly be making views A or D, but I may make a couple of the sleeveless ones to go under sweaters or jackets. I also got the most beautiful fabric I've ever seen, a soft white cotton with teeny eyelets and a purple rose print. It was pricey, so I just got enough to make a blouse with, I think I'll try my Dawn Anderson pattern.
If you all have time, please say a little prayer for me, that today will be my last accident for a while! :)
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Update on the Dancing
After much consideration, I've decided to stop dancing publicly. I have one prior committment tomorrow that I have to honor, but after that, no more.
It's been a tough decision, but I feel it is the best one for me. A dance designed around the natural movements of the female body can't help but be provocative and sensual, and therefore belongs where all other things of a provocative and sensual nature belong; in private. I don't think this is necessarily the case with all dances; with the right costumes most dancing can be nothing but beautiful. It's the nature of bellydance that makes it an issue.
In its original cultural context, men did not watch women dance, unless the women were also prostitutes as well as dancers. Even today, there are certain things you just don't do, such as place your hands on your hips, as it constitutes an offer. Mrs. Clitheroe made an excellent point that sometimes fabric isn't enough, and she's right. It doesn't matter how many skirts and belts I wear, I'm still moving my hips. A lot.
I had already reached the conclusion that I would stop dancing publicly when I married, but then it occured to me; even though we haven't met yet, part of me still belongs to my future husband, wherever he may be (Lord willing!). I keep that part of me safe for him in so many other ways; there's not a reason in the world why I should let my guard down for this.
I will continue to dance in class with the other ladies. And when the time comes, I will have a skill in which my husband and I can both take pleasure, far from prying eyes.
It's been a tough decision, but I feel it is the best one for me. A dance designed around the natural movements of the female body can't help but be provocative and sensual, and therefore belongs where all other things of a provocative and sensual nature belong; in private. I don't think this is necessarily the case with all dances; with the right costumes most dancing can be nothing but beautiful. It's the nature of bellydance that makes it an issue.
In its original cultural context, men did not watch women dance, unless the women were also prostitutes as well as dancers. Even today, there are certain things you just don't do, such as place your hands on your hips, as it constitutes an offer. Mrs. Clitheroe made an excellent point that sometimes fabric isn't enough, and she's right. It doesn't matter how many skirts and belts I wear, I'm still moving my hips. A lot.
I had already reached the conclusion that I would stop dancing publicly when I married, but then it occured to me; even though we haven't met yet, part of me still belongs to my future husband, wherever he may be (Lord willing!). I keep that part of me safe for him in so many other ways; there's not a reason in the world why I should let my guard down for this.
I will continue to dance in class with the other ladies. And when the time comes, I will have a skill in which my husband and I can both take pleasure, far from prying eyes.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
One of my Favorites
This one always makes me cry.
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Success!
Cooking Day went beautifully, with only a minor disaster involving a melted plastic bag. (Oh, the smell!) The way the book lays out the tasks and order of recipes is extremely helpful.
I served baked jambalaya for dinner, and it was a huge hit! It was the first time our family had sat down to a home-cooked meal in ages. Jay took some of the leftovers for lunch today. I'm so happy! It's wonderful accomplishment, making sure your family has good food.
Next stop...stuffed pork chops! :)
I served baked jambalaya for dinner, and it was a huge hit! It was the first time our family had sat down to a home-cooked meal in ages. Jay took some of the leftovers for lunch today. I'm so happy! It's wonderful accomplishment, making sure your family has good food.
Next stop...stuffed pork chops! :)
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Signs of Spring
The only way I can describe the weather today is that it feels like home. There's a coolness in the air, but also a distinct, moist-smelling humidity. It's not really spring in Oklahoma until a storm is on the way, and after all my years here I can definately feel one brewing.
I'm taking my camera out to Dad's this weekend; I'm dying to share the beauty of the open spaces and the sunsets. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can even get a few cloud shots. You can see for miles and miles out there, and sometimes can catch an entire storm in one frame. I might go take some pictures of around the house today...I'm in a photography mood.
My mother and I took a walk Friday, and saw a forsythia blooming. It's always the first flower, and it got us both excited. She's a garden nut, and is planning on making over our plain Jane yard this year...I can't wait!
Also, I'm taking what I consider a major step in my relationship with my father. I'm going to bring out a few things this next weekend, and we're going to have a sort of dressed-down tea. I think it'll be good for him, and it'll show him a bit more of my personality. If ya'll are nice, I'll post the menu later this week. ;)
I'm taking my camera out to Dad's this weekend; I'm dying to share the beauty of the open spaces and the sunsets. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can even get a few cloud shots. You can see for miles and miles out there, and sometimes can catch an entire storm in one frame. I might go take some pictures of around the house today...I'm in a photography mood.
My mother and I took a walk Friday, and saw a forsythia blooming. It's always the first flower, and it got us both excited. She's a garden nut, and is planning on making over our plain Jane yard this year...I can't wait!
Also, I'm taking what I consider a major step in my relationship with my father. I'm going to bring out a few things this next weekend, and we're going to have a sort of dressed-down tea. I think it'll be good for him, and it'll show him a bit more of my personality. If ya'll are nice, I'll post the menu later this week. ;)
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Open Discussion
This is a topic I've been praying about a lot, and I decided to seek guidance here. This is open to anyone who reads here as long as we keep it civil, of course.
I take a "bellydance" or "Middle Eastern dance" class on Tuesday nights. It's all girls, I thoroughly enjoy it, and I dress modestly when I do so. I always wear a v-necked, 3/4 sleeved top that doesn't show any clevage, and two long skirts layed over one another for extra fullness.
The movements are not nearly as suggestive as some "cabaret" type bellydance is...on the contrary, there is a great emphasis placed on keeping the movements from looking bad. It is primarly the movement of arms, really, and when you wear the right overskirt, most spectator's eyes are on the movement of the fabric, rather than on the hips.
My main concern is performing. There's nothing obscene about our dances in the least, as when we perform we do it in a studio-wide recital that covers every class right down to preschool ballet. Some girls show their stomachs when they perform, but I never have and never will. In fact, the long-sleeved traditional dance coat I have covers more than normal! I also feel that by and large the two international dance classes at our studio (bellydance and flamenco) involve more modest costume choices than your average requirement for a ballet or tap recital.
I know dancing in the Bible is not always presented in the best context, and that's why I'm seeking your collective opinions. As a girl seeking to follow God, is it immodest of me to dance in public? I love the rush and the atmosphere, but it's not worth it to me if it ends up resulting in a stumbling block for anyone watching.
Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
I take a "bellydance" or "Middle Eastern dance" class on Tuesday nights. It's all girls, I thoroughly enjoy it, and I dress modestly when I do so. I always wear a v-necked, 3/4 sleeved top that doesn't show any clevage, and two long skirts layed over one another for extra fullness.
The movements are not nearly as suggestive as some "cabaret" type bellydance is...on the contrary, there is a great emphasis placed on keeping the movements from looking bad. It is primarly the movement of arms, really, and when you wear the right overskirt, most spectator's eyes are on the movement of the fabric, rather than on the hips.
My main concern is performing. There's nothing obscene about our dances in the least, as when we perform we do it in a studio-wide recital that covers every class right down to preschool ballet. Some girls show their stomachs when they perform, but I never have and never will. In fact, the long-sleeved traditional dance coat I have covers more than normal! I also feel that by and large the two international dance classes at our studio (bellydance and flamenco) involve more modest costume choices than your average requirement for a ballet or tap recital.
I know dancing in the Bible is not always presented in the best context, and that's why I'm seeking your collective opinions. As a girl seeking to follow God, is it immodest of me to dance in public? I love the rush and the atmosphere, but it's not worth it to me if it ends up resulting in a stumbling block for anyone watching.
Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
Monday, February 25, 2008
Chapter Two
Eileen found herself huming as she began to sort the clothes. A few T-shirts for the white pile, a pair of work jeans for the denim pile. The dark were mostly Shari's tank tops, and the brights consisted primarly of her own calico house dresses; she had a pattern for a drawstringed one that made excellent use of a few yards of $2 quilting cotton.
As she loaded the whites in, she let the words escape her lips
The trees they grow high
And the leaves they do grow green.
Many's the time my true love I've seen,
Many a hour I've watched him all alone.
He's young but he's daily growing.
Washer loaded and running, she smoother ehr blue T-shirt and walked into the dining room where the sewing machine was set up. And as she began to pin together the side seams of her latest project, her mind wandered back to the note.
She automatically knew there was no way the the looped handwriting belonged to her dad; she was too familiar with his chickenstratch. It couldn't be her ganrdmother's, either. No. She was instinctively certain it belonged to a man.
Dawson was her mother's name, the name on her birth certificate, but she was ususally called Slaughterback out of convenience. Whoever he was, he knew a lot about her. Straining her memory, she tried to recall anything that could help.
When she was sixteen, her father had explained it as best as he could. Her mother had died when she was six years old, that much she had already known, but she hadn't known any of the other circumstances.
He was meeting a friend from Ohio in Eureka Springs when he met Laura, and he loved her instantly. They spent the night together, with her assuming they would be married in a few days down at Judge Bean's. What he had neglected to tell her was that he already had a wife.
Now Laura, a waitress with no family, was pregnant in a strange town with nowhere to go. She was waiting for the trolley, and trying not to cry, when a woman with a nine-year-old boy walking dutifully behind her skirts took off her sweater and dropped it around her shoulders against the cold spring rain.
She spent the next six years living with the woman and her husband, deeply rooted Christians. The husband wouldn't hear of Laura working outside; instead, she and his wife froze dinners and sold them when they needed extra money.
Apparently, they had even wanted to keep Eilee after Laura passed, but couldn't. Shari couldn't have children, and when Laura died, she convinced her husband to fight for her, even though it took a scant few weeks of step-motherhood for her enthusiasm to fade.
It took Eileen a minute to realize she had stitched at an agle, right off the side of her fabric. With a shake of her head and a smile, she took her knew scissors out and began to snip away the wayward threads. It had to be from one of them, altough she wasn't sure why they would go all the way to Millicent just to drop off a birthday present.
"Eileen!"
"Coming!"
She heard Shari's coughing as she walked down the hallways. She was finished with her breakfast, and
"I need more coffee."
After Eileen brought it, she went back to her sewing, and her thought process. She kept at it, stitching and wondering until she heard the washer click off for the final time.
As she loaded the whites in, she let the words escape her lips
The trees they grow high
And the leaves they do grow green.
Many's the time my true love I've seen,
Many a hour I've watched him all alone.
He's young but he's daily growing.
Washer loaded and running, she smoother ehr blue T-shirt and walked into the dining room where the sewing machine was set up. And as she began to pin together the side seams of her latest project, her mind wandered back to the note.
She automatically knew there was no way the the looped handwriting belonged to her dad; she was too familiar with his chickenstratch. It couldn't be her ganrdmother's, either. No. She was instinctively certain it belonged to a man.
Dawson was her mother's name, the name on her birth certificate, but she was ususally called Slaughterback out of convenience. Whoever he was, he knew a lot about her. Straining her memory, she tried to recall anything that could help.
When she was sixteen, her father had explained it as best as he could. Her mother had died when she was six years old, that much she had already known, but she hadn't known any of the other circumstances.
He was meeting a friend from Ohio in Eureka Springs when he met Laura, and he loved her instantly. They spent the night together, with her assuming they would be married in a few days down at Judge Bean's. What he had neglected to tell her was that he already had a wife.
Now Laura, a waitress with no family, was pregnant in a strange town with nowhere to go. She was waiting for the trolley, and trying not to cry, when a woman with a nine-year-old boy walking dutifully behind her skirts took off her sweater and dropped it around her shoulders against the cold spring rain.
She spent the next six years living with the woman and her husband, deeply rooted Christians. The husband wouldn't hear of Laura working outside; instead, she and his wife froze dinners and sold them when they needed extra money.
Apparently, they had even wanted to keep Eilee after Laura passed, but couldn't. Shari couldn't have children, and when Laura died, she convinced her husband to fight for her, even though it took a scant few weeks of step-motherhood for her enthusiasm to fade.
It took Eileen a minute to realize she had stitched at an agle, right off the side of her fabric. With a shake of her head and a smile, she took her knew scissors out and began to snip away the wayward threads. It had to be from one of them, altough she wasn't sure why they would go all the way to Millicent just to drop off a birthday present.
"Eileen!"
"Coming!"
She heard Shari's coughing as she walked down the hallways. She was finished with her breakfast, and
"I need more coffee."
After Eileen brought it, she went back to her sewing, and her thought process. She kept at it, stitching and wondering until she heard the washer click off for the final time.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Whew
I've been wiping down baseboards all day...it's amazing how dirt and hair accumulate when you've got three pets!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Wildlife
Some things have come up, I'll post the book Sunday evening, but...
We have two foxes! We knew we had one, but we saw two walking across the yard last night. Maybe we'll have babies.
Also, today I saw something I've never seen before. A pelican! Out in our neighborhood pond! I love out house, we've got our own little ecosystem here.
We have two foxes! We knew we had one, but we saw two walking across the yard last night. Maybe we'll have babies.
Also, today I saw something I've never seen before. A pelican! Out in our neighborhood pond! I love out house, we've got our own little ecosystem here.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Cooking, etc.
First and foremost, thank you for the prayers. Jay's surgery went very well, better than was expected, and his healing time is shorter as a result.
In other news, I'm so, so excited! We just bought Once-a-Month Cooking by Mary-Beth Lagerborg and Mimi Wilson. Our family's so scattered that we don't have near enough time together on a daily basis, and I'm such a novice there's no way I could plan a menu on my own yet! I'm hoping this will give us the chance to sit down and actually have a meal together each night.
It comes very highly reccommended, although I hear there are some errors in the shopping lists. Fine by me, I've got the time to double-check them. :)
Also, no need to worry. If I don't have part two up by tonight, it'll be up in the morning. ;)
In other news, I'm so, so excited! We just bought Once-a-Month Cooking by Mary-Beth Lagerborg and Mimi Wilson. Our family's so scattered that we don't have near enough time together on a daily basis, and I'm such a novice there's no way I could plan a menu on my own yet! I'm hoping this will give us the chance to sit down and actually have a meal together each night.
It comes very highly reccommended, although I hear there are some errors in the shopping lists. Fine by me, I've got the time to double-check them. :)
Also, no need to worry. If I don't have part two up by tonight, it'll be up in the morning. ;)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Random Musings
First of all, I'm so glad you liked Chapter 1! I'll definately see if I can get chapter 2 up by this weekend.
I'm still ankle-deep in laundry, and Jay's off to get his hand set. *Whew* things are crazy around here.
I'm still ankle-deep in laundry, and Jay's off to get his hand set. *Whew* things are crazy around here.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Chapter One
It hadn’t rained for two months.
In Millicent, the pain of drought could be felt everywhere. The harvests were recorded at all-time lows. Fewer combines were needed for wheat; the gas stations didn’t make as much. No one was harvesting, plowing, or planting. Or, for that matter, doing any side projects. And that was where it affected them.
Her father owned the only hardware store in Millicent, which was both good and bad. On one hand, there was little competition. But he was also expected to have everything, which he didn’t. He was hardly selling anything under the circumstances. The only people who came in were farmers looking for an ear to complain to.
Eileen had spent the summer primarily at home. Her stepmother, Shari, had chronic bronchitis from her cigarettes and was on so many medications she was only about three-fourths of the way coherent. She was convinced she had some sort of mysterious mental illness, but her doctor had said if she was, there was absolutely no anatomical or medical reason for it. So he prescribed her sugar pills and aspirin, and had a grand time putting on his poker face whenever she came in for an appointment.
He told Eileen’s father, “Mr. Slaughterback, your wife is nothing more than an incredible hypochondriac,” and said that she should move on before too long. Until then, it was Eileen’s responsibility to take care of her. It didn’t other her much, save for on those rare occasions she did have time to sit down and read a few pages of her book, only to be interrupted by a scratchy, “EILEEN!”
Ah, well, she thought, I suppose it’s good practice.
On June 14th, Eileen’s birthday, her father woke her up at six, as usual, before he went to work.
“Happy Birthday, buckaroo,” he said as he messed her hair and grabbed his cap. Slaughterback Hardware. Generations ago, unsurprisingly, her family had been in the pork business.
“Thanks,” she said, “I love you.”
“You too!” he hollered back on his way out.
And she did, truly.
“Eileen!”
“Coming!”
“Where’s my coffee?”
Of course, she thought as she turned back to the kitchen. She got out a cup and put away the foil-wrapped square of coffee grounds. Then she poured the coffee, adding a packet of Benefiber and a tablespoon of milk.
Shari’s room was hot and smoky; she loved her cigarettes and never opened her vent. She was propped up on the pillows, greasy hair unbrushed, watching a taped episode of The Young and the Restless. There were three chip bags on the floor, and a mountain of dishes on the nightstand.
Eileen handed it to her, and she took a sip, scowling and setting it on the nightstand.
“You sure that’s Cain’s?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Hmph. We need more, it tastes old.”
“I’ll have Dad pick some up on his way home.”
She scooped up as many of the dishes as she could and carried them back to the kitchen, setting them up to soak in the sink. When she came back to get the chip bags, Shari said,
“I want eggs for breakfast.”
In the kitchen, chip bags put away, Eileen pulled out the skillet. In went two eggs, with the burner set on 5. She slid two pieces of toast into the toaster, pulled out the microwave bacon, and stuck a sheet of three strips into the microwave. Everything was done about the same time, and she laid it all out on a plate, salting and peppering the eggs. Both pieces of toast were smeared with butter before she poured a glad of orange juice and set it all on a tray.
As she had once learned the hard way, that was what Shari meant by ‘eggs.’
Eileen brought it in and set it across her lap.
“Has the mail come yet?”
“I’ll go check.”
Their mailbox was a catalog order from several years before. On it was a scene of three cardinals on a pine branch that had been stuck on using a kind of metal contact paper that was beginning to peel off around the opening. It squeaked when she touched it. The mail had come. It contained an Atwoods circular, a few bills, a credit card offer, and a missing persons card.
Underneath all of them was the pattern Grandma had ordered as her present. She told Eileen once that she was “timeless, and needed something timeless to wear.” The pattern was for a Titanic-looking tea gown, with lots of sheer layers of fabric and short sleeves like the blue and pink one Rose wore. Immediately she started to think about the clearance-labeled peach chiffon at the store.
Thrilled as she was that was pattern had arrived, nothing prepared her for what was sitting at the back, behind everything else.
It was a box.
A little box. A little dark blue velvet one; a jewelry store box. A little silver string was tied around it in a bow. Everything about it was little. On the back a piece of paper was taped to it so seamlessly, it must have been double-sided tape. And on the paper, in the kind of paradoxical handwriting that is an elegant man’s penmanship, was her name.
Her name. Her whole name. One she hadn’t used or heard since back when her mother was alive. When she was six years old, and they had lived in Arkansas. She closed her eyes and let herself try to remember for a moment the smells of that house, but a chirping bird started her from her reverie.
Princess Moss-Rose Kitty-Cat Butterfly Grapefruit Peach-Blossom Eileen Dawson. It was all there. She had to smile once. Before it occurred to her
There was no postage. Someone dropped it off on their own.
How anyone in Millicent could have known about those days was a puzzle, but she slipped the box into the pocket she wore under her dress just the same. It nestled down, a comforting, diminutive weight, straightening the rumpled pocket against my homemade bloomer-wearing leg.
Once inside, she tossed the pattern envelope onto her bed before going in to Shari’s room again. She was watching Today. She handed her the mail, waited for a second, and then left.
Back in her room, she reached into her pocket and pulled out The Box. Her thin fingers shook as she pulled apart the bow and set it on her bedside table. She sat down, carefully peeling off the paper on the underside. It unfolded on its own, and she could see more writing.
“These were your mother’s. I know she would have wanted you to have them.”
My mother’s. Who in the world would have something of my mother’s? She opened the box, eyes closed to prolong the surprise as long as possible. The contents slid out into her waiting hand. The first thing she noticed was the pair of scissors, the miniscule handles silvery and ornate, in a pattern that looked like rose vines wrapped around grapevine. With them was a pendant, in the form of a woven basket decorated with the same roses, into which they slid nicely.
She pulled the chain over her head and positioned it around her neck; she was going to sew that day anyway, and she wanted it close to her. She closed her eyes again as the smell of something familiar caught her attention, like basil and oranges and cloves. It was one of those frustrating moment where you just can’t quite recall something, even though you know the memory is there.
Her alarm clock beeped, and she sighed. It was time to start the laundry.
In Millicent, the pain of drought could be felt everywhere. The harvests were recorded at all-time lows. Fewer combines were needed for wheat; the gas stations didn’t make as much. No one was harvesting, plowing, or planting. Or, for that matter, doing any side projects. And that was where it affected them.
Her father owned the only hardware store in Millicent, which was both good and bad. On one hand, there was little competition. But he was also expected to have everything, which he didn’t. He was hardly selling anything under the circumstances. The only people who came in were farmers looking for an ear to complain to.
Eileen had spent the summer primarily at home. Her stepmother, Shari, had chronic bronchitis from her cigarettes and was on so many medications she was only about three-fourths of the way coherent. She was convinced she had some sort of mysterious mental illness, but her doctor had said if she was, there was absolutely no anatomical or medical reason for it. So he prescribed her sugar pills and aspirin, and had a grand time putting on his poker face whenever she came in for an appointment.
He told Eileen’s father, “Mr. Slaughterback, your wife is nothing more than an incredible hypochondriac,” and said that she should move on before too long. Until then, it was Eileen’s responsibility to take care of her. It didn’t other her much, save for on those rare occasions she did have time to sit down and read a few pages of her book, only to be interrupted by a scratchy, “EILEEN!”
Ah, well, she thought, I suppose it’s good practice.
On June 14th, Eileen’s birthday, her father woke her up at six, as usual, before he went to work.
“Happy Birthday, buckaroo,” he said as he messed her hair and grabbed his cap. Slaughterback Hardware. Generations ago, unsurprisingly, her family had been in the pork business.
“Thanks,” she said, “I love you.”
“You too!” he hollered back on his way out.
And she did, truly.
“Eileen!”
“Coming!”
“Where’s my coffee?”
Of course, she thought as she turned back to the kitchen. She got out a cup and put away the foil-wrapped square of coffee grounds. Then she poured the coffee, adding a packet of Benefiber and a tablespoon of milk.
Shari’s room was hot and smoky; she loved her cigarettes and never opened her vent. She was propped up on the pillows, greasy hair unbrushed, watching a taped episode of The Young and the Restless. There were three chip bags on the floor, and a mountain of dishes on the nightstand.
Eileen handed it to her, and she took a sip, scowling and setting it on the nightstand.
“You sure that’s Cain’s?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Hmph. We need more, it tastes old.”
“I’ll have Dad pick some up on his way home.”
She scooped up as many of the dishes as she could and carried them back to the kitchen, setting them up to soak in the sink. When she came back to get the chip bags, Shari said,
“I want eggs for breakfast.”
In the kitchen, chip bags put away, Eileen pulled out the skillet. In went two eggs, with the burner set on 5. She slid two pieces of toast into the toaster, pulled out the microwave bacon, and stuck a sheet of three strips into the microwave. Everything was done about the same time, and she laid it all out on a plate, salting and peppering the eggs. Both pieces of toast were smeared with butter before she poured a glad of orange juice and set it all on a tray.
As she had once learned the hard way, that was what Shari meant by ‘eggs.’
Eileen brought it in and set it across her lap.
“Has the mail come yet?”
“I’ll go check.”
Their mailbox was a catalog order from several years before. On it was a scene of three cardinals on a pine branch that had been stuck on using a kind of metal contact paper that was beginning to peel off around the opening. It squeaked when she touched it. The mail had come. It contained an Atwoods circular, a few bills, a credit card offer, and a missing persons card.
Underneath all of them was the pattern Grandma had ordered as her present. She told Eileen once that she was “timeless, and needed something timeless to wear.” The pattern was for a Titanic-looking tea gown, with lots of sheer layers of fabric and short sleeves like the blue and pink one Rose wore. Immediately she started to think about the clearance-labeled peach chiffon at the store.
Thrilled as she was that was pattern had arrived, nothing prepared her for what was sitting at the back, behind everything else.
It was a box.
A little box. A little dark blue velvet one; a jewelry store box. A little silver string was tied around it in a bow. Everything about it was little. On the back a piece of paper was taped to it so seamlessly, it must have been double-sided tape. And on the paper, in the kind of paradoxical handwriting that is an elegant man’s penmanship, was her name.
Her name. Her whole name. One she hadn’t used or heard since back when her mother was alive. When she was six years old, and they had lived in Arkansas. She closed her eyes and let herself try to remember for a moment the smells of that house, but a chirping bird started her from her reverie.
Princess Moss-Rose Kitty-Cat Butterfly Grapefruit Peach-Blossom Eileen Dawson. It was all there. She had to smile once. Before it occurred to her
There was no postage. Someone dropped it off on their own.
How anyone in Millicent could have known about those days was a puzzle, but she slipped the box into the pocket she wore under her dress just the same. It nestled down, a comforting, diminutive weight, straightening the rumpled pocket against my homemade bloomer-wearing leg.
Once inside, she tossed the pattern envelope onto her bed before going in to Shari’s room again. She was watching Today. She handed her the mail, waited for a second, and then left.
Back in her room, she reached into her pocket and pulled out The Box. Her thin fingers shook as she pulled apart the bow and set it on her bedside table. She sat down, carefully peeling off the paper on the underside. It unfolded on its own, and she could see more writing.
“These were your mother’s. I know she would have wanted you to have them.”
My mother’s. Who in the world would have something of my mother’s? She opened the box, eyes closed to prolong the surprise as long as possible. The contents slid out into her waiting hand. The first thing she noticed was the pair of scissors, the miniscule handles silvery and ornate, in a pattern that looked like rose vines wrapped around grapevine. With them was a pendant, in the form of a woven basket decorated with the same roses, into which they slid nicely.
She pulled the chain over her head and positioned it around her neck; she was going to sew that day anyway, and she wanted it close to her. She closed her eyes again as the smell of something familiar caught her attention, like basil and oranges and cloves. It was one of those frustrating moment where you just can’t quite recall something, even though you know the memory is there.
Her alarm clock beeped, and she sighed. It was time to start the laundry.
Family Update
Thanks so much for your concern! It's broken, alright. He has an appointment to get it set tomorrow.
It's laundry day! In between loads, I'll post that chapter.
It's laundry day! In between loads, I'll post that chapter.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Fiction Writing
I've been writing various stories since I was nine years old. Fourth grade was the year I decided I was going to be an author. And while I haven't published anything yet, I haven't given up the dream.
Since about sixth grade, I've had one particular book that continues to gnaw at me. And while it's gotten several plot makeovers, a lot of the characters and concepts have stayed the same. But what was once a selfish personal fantasy has, over time, grown into something that, if I work hard enough at it, could be a nice piece of fiction that upholds some of those Bibilical ideals which are so often absent from what girls my age are offered to read.
They say you write what you know, and so it takes place primarily in a town modeled after Cordell, Oklahoma, and also in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It's a bit of a Cinderella story.
I want to say that the character of the stepmother bares absolutely no resemblance at all to my stepfather, I just needed a way to insert her, and this was the most logical. She's actually based off of a friend's stepparent. The father, I will admit, has some similarities to my own, but not largely.
As far as the themes are concerned, it deals with quite a few. There are questions of courtship, of duties at home versus in the world, and the conflict between needing to remain under her father's headship and the fact that her father is not a strong figure.
It centers around a girl, Eileen, who turns 19 at the start of the book. Her stepmother is a hypochondriac who absues her desire to serve. A large family conflict arises when she tells Eileen to go out and get a job and start contributing, something she herself has never done. Her father is torn between appeasing his wife and allowing his daughter to continue on her chosen Christian path.
Eileen does have her grandmother, who she sees every weekend after church. It is from her that she's learned to sew, cook, and other tasks that she needs to know to run a home. She's sort of the sage of the story, a voice of wisdom and reason.
The action beings when Eileen, feeling desperate, decides to run away from home one night. She doesn't get very far, but in the process runs into a friend from her past that gives her an entirely new hope and dedication. She returns home before sunrise, and by breakfast has plans to open a mending business that she runs for the rest of the summer.
Meanwhile, this old friend, her grandmother, and eventually her father, are setting in motion things that will culminate just in the nick of time. I don't want to spoil any surprises. ;-)
If anyone's interested, I can post some tomorrow.
Since about sixth grade, I've had one particular book that continues to gnaw at me. And while it's gotten several plot makeovers, a lot of the characters and concepts have stayed the same. But what was once a selfish personal fantasy has, over time, grown into something that, if I work hard enough at it, could be a nice piece of fiction that upholds some of those Bibilical ideals which are so often absent from what girls my age are offered to read.
They say you write what you know, and so it takes place primarily in a town modeled after Cordell, Oklahoma, and also in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It's a bit of a Cinderella story.
I want to say that the character of the stepmother bares absolutely no resemblance at all to my stepfather, I just needed a way to insert her, and this was the most logical. She's actually based off of a friend's stepparent. The father, I will admit, has some similarities to my own, but not largely.
As far as the themes are concerned, it deals with quite a few. There are questions of courtship, of duties at home versus in the world, and the conflict between needing to remain under her father's headship and the fact that her father is not a strong figure.
It centers around a girl, Eileen, who turns 19 at the start of the book. Her stepmother is a hypochondriac who absues her desire to serve. A large family conflict arises when she tells Eileen to go out and get a job and start contributing, something she herself has never done. Her father is torn between appeasing his wife and allowing his daughter to continue on her chosen Christian path.
Eileen does have her grandmother, who she sees every weekend after church. It is from her that she's learned to sew, cook, and other tasks that she needs to know to run a home. She's sort of the sage of the story, a voice of wisdom and reason.
The action beings when Eileen, feeling desperate, decides to run away from home one night. She doesn't get very far, but in the process runs into a friend from her past that gives her an entirely new hope and dedication. She returns home before sunrise, and by breakfast has plans to open a mending business that she runs for the rest of the summer.
Meanwhile, this old friend, her grandmother, and eventually her father, are setting in motion things that will culminate just in the nick of time. I don't want to spoil any surprises. ;-)
If anyone's interested, I can post some tomorrow.
Prayer Request
Dear Jay seems to have broken his hand painting today. We won't know for sure until he goes to the doctor, but please pray for him, if you have time.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
A Tour of the House
Hello and welcome! Would you like a cup of tea?
This is our wonderful kitchen, with all its lovely space!
And here is our recently redecorated front room.
Here's the living room, where we spend most of our time together.
That's Baron. He says hi!
And here are a few snapshots from my bedroom.
Let's not forget my favorite part...our fantastic view!
This is our wonderful kitchen, with all its lovely space!
And here is our recently redecorated front room.
Here's the living room, where we spend most of our time together.
That's Baron. He says hi!
And here are a few snapshots from my bedroom.
Let's not forget my favorite part...our fantastic view!
Saturday, February 16, 2008
A Few Purchases
I've been very blessed with a bit of extra money lately, so I've been making a few purchases.
First, I bought some lovely pink fabric which I made into a gathered skirt. It was 50% off! I've got a nice, if wrinkled, piece of scrap that I'm not sure what I'll do with yet.
Then I purchased a square-necked dress pattern from Common Sense Patterns.
I've also ordered from She Maketh Herself Coverings two of these, one in white and one in black.
Finally, I bought the eBooks Meals for a Month and Wholesome Mixes from The Homemaker's Cottage.
First, I bought some lovely pink fabric which I made into a gathered skirt. It was 50% off! I've got a nice, if wrinkled, piece of scrap that I'm not sure what I'll do with yet.
Then I purchased a square-necked dress pattern from Common Sense Patterns.
I've also ordered from She Maketh Herself Coverings two of these, one in white and one in black.
Finally, I bought the eBooks Meals for a Month and Wholesome Mixes from The Homemaker's Cottage.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Single on Valentine's Day
I love Valentine's Day. It's so easy to get lost in Victoriana! I've got a set of Punch Studio Valentine cards that I've been sending out to anyone and everyone.
Since Jay has school tonight, we had out family exchange last night. I'm rather long-winded, so my gift to both of my parents was a heartfelt card apiece. I had asked for fresh flowers; my mother bought me the most beautiful bouquet! It's got white and purple daisies and carnations, and is in a place of honor in my room right now. Jay also bought me a cameo...I was ecstatic!
In our culture, it can be hard to be single on a day when everything is about being a couple. (Regardless of exactly how committed you are!) I'm going to try and keep my sights on the important things today.
First and foremost, I'm going to go about my routine like I always do. Just because I might feel like sighing and daydreaming all day doesn't mean I ought to. I'll save that for after the schoolwork and chores are done. :-)
I'm also watching my Universal Feel-Good Movie: Sense and Sensibility. I can think of no better movie to remind me not to rush into a relationship just because I want to fall in love. Both Eleanor and Marianne learn important lessons that all of us single girls could stand to remember. But I especially connect with Marianne, overdramatic as I am.
All in all, judging by the weater, etc., it's going to be a lovely day. I hope you all have a wonderful one as well!
Since Jay has school tonight, we had out family exchange last night. I'm rather long-winded, so my gift to both of my parents was a heartfelt card apiece. I had asked for fresh flowers; my mother bought me the most beautiful bouquet! It's got white and purple daisies and carnations, and is in a place of honor in my room right now. Jay also bought me a cameo...I was ecstatic!
In our culture, it can be hard to be single on a day when everything is about being a couple. (Regardless of exactly how committed you are!) I'm going to try and keep my sights on the important things today.
First and foremost, I'm going to go about my routine like I always do. Just because I might feel like sighing and daydreaming all day doesn't mean I ought to. I'll save that for after the schoolwork and chores are done. :-)
I'm also watching my Universal Feel-Good Movie: Sense and Sensibility. I can think of no better movie to remind me not to rush into a relationship just because I want to fall in love. Both Eleanor and Marianne learn important lessons that all of us single girls could stand to remember. But I especially connect with Marianne, overdramatic as I am.
All in all, judging by the weater, etc., it's going to be a lovely day. I hope you all have a wonderful one as well!
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