7 Quick Takes

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1. I heard a few weeks ago that Stories for the Homeschool Heart was indeed going to the publisher.  I look forward to seeing the finished volume and am pleased to have been included.  If you would like a free copy read on:

Nominate a mom you know who has a 'homeschool heart' Tell us in less than 200 words how she has inspired you and why she has a 'homeschool heart'. Send your entries to TheresaThomasEverydayCatholic at gmail dot com OR pattiarmstrong at mac dot com. Winner and nominee both win a free copy …of the book. Entries due August 30.

Stories hmsc heart cover 

(cover credit Purestock/Getty Images) 

2. It's rhetorical.  

Kieran has a knack for being right where dh wants to be.  He is like Visa. ; )   The other night his father tripped over him when turning back around to grab something.  He asked in exasperation WHY he had to be right there??  Kieran, being Kieran, was ready to provide an response but then stopped and said, "Hey, Dad? Is this one of those questions you are supposed to answer or the kind you aren't?"  psst: no <g>

3. Park day at the Seewoog again this week.  

The children are making friends and Tess spent the afternoon tagging along, usually hand in hand, with this little girl.  I passed the time learning about the ICE train and planning a ladies outing to a nearby city with the lovely homeschool ladies.  A very nice day.  

Tseew 

Seewducks 

  

4. Rainbow

 I am taking this as a good sign : ) 

Rainbowvalley 

 

5. Method Bathroom Cleaner 

…claims to smell like a spa.  To me, it smells uncannily like Old Spice.  Every time I use it I am right back in the kitchen of my grandparents farm pouring Coffee Rich over an itty bitty single serving cereal package and Grandpa is getting ready for the day in the bathroom right outside the doorway.  Grandpa was a reluctant farmer and probably the only man on the planet who used aftershave before starting barn chores.  I don't recall thinking anything at all of that at the time but having lived on my own farm since I realize how unusual it is. 

6.  It's All Mush

  As we were driving home after a day out I remarked in the car that I couldn't shake my headache.  "Try drinking some water, Mom," Aidan suggested.  "Your brain is 80% water."  

"Really?" I asked. "So what is the other 20%"  

"I dunno," says he, "I guess, like, mush."  

He knows me lol!  Though I suspect he may have my percentages off. Which may explain why last weeks 7 Takes contained six…  Dear Reader, you are very kind to overlook these things. 

7. Trash Talking

  Have we talked about the garbage?  Dh joked when we got here that you needed a PhD to figure out garbage disposal and he wasn't kidding.  For starters, our garbage can looks like this:  

Trash 

 

It gets emptied every two weeks.  TWO WEEKS people!  Reason being, we are to recycle  90% of our trash.  There are yellow bags for metal and plastic and a blue can for paper and cardboard.  But you can only put plain clean paper and cardboard in the blue can.  If it is of "mixed" contents like waxed milk cartons or envelopes with clear windows it goes in the yellow bag.  There is a brown can for 'biodegradables' which is raw food and peelings, apple cores etc.  Cooked food scraps and meat are verboten. Glass goes into freestanding pick up bins located in other villages. There is a bin for clear glass, a bin for brown glass and a bin for green glass.   There are limited options for bulk pickup and dropoff but bulk is defined much more conservatively here – no more than the trunk of a modest sized sedan. And don't think you can do that more than once or twice A YEAR.  

I find myself in predicaments like the other day when they spilled the oats before breakfast.  Is it biodegradable?  Is it black can trash?  The carton goes in the blue can and the lid goes in the yellow bag.  Or standing before the trio of glass bins with a cobalt blue wine bottle in hand.  Hmmm.

The garbage  system has ramifications I am just beginning to perceive.  How different would your life be if you did not have unlimited options to store and dump?  It makes you REALLY think about what you bring into your car and your house because it all has to eventually go someplace.  I find myself thinking more carefully about purchases.  The German 'less is more' ideal becomes more and more understandable.  It is all about stewardship.   Let me tell you it does make the average American consumer  (not even talking cost here, but quantity) appear to be caught in a binge/purge cycle that would likely shock our European neighbors.  As it is, you can readily tell the American families on the street by our  volume on garbage day and we do not begin to touch the US norm. 

And so, Where is Kim you ask?  She is busy recycling.  And let me tell you, the next time some joker feels the need to tell me what my children's carbon footprint is,  and sure as shootin' someone will, I am so gonna need to see their trash can first.  Hmph. 

life – the adventure

"We are called into a life of adventure.  It is in our heritage and our call.  


Zip2
 

Jesus uses adventure to confront who we are and make us who we are to be.  


Zip 1
 

Adventure may not come in a form you expect or at a time you anticipate.  God's adventures are personal, purposeful, and productive.  So come, step out into adventure this season.  Experience life as He intended – a God-centered adventure."

– Wanda Ventling and Allen Edeker, Life Beautiful magazine Summer 2010

Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen

It isn't everyday your daughter turns sixteen.  It isn't every daughter/sister who is like our Alannah.  For these reasons today is a big day in our family.  She holds a special place in our clan.  Coming when she did, four years after the three muskateers, she was the baby of that era.  Coming when she did, before the six younger children, she is their mother hen.  Coming when she did, on the heels of a physical breakdown so nearly complete that I did not expect to be able to carry more children again, she was to us a herald of the "hope and future" God had planned. 

When I became pregnant the first time I fully expected to have a girl.  My Gram was a true matriarch in every sense of the word.  She raised three daughters, one of whom – my mother, had an only child.  Another girl.  As a single mother my mom had all female friends.  It was a woman-centered existence and it never occurred to me that there was anything but pink in my future as those months progressed.  To say it was a surprise when they told us we had a son would be an understatement. A happy surprise no doubt, but a complete surprise.

When I conceived again I figured naturally THIS child would be a girl.  After all our family did not have boys. Surely it must have been a fluke.  Two more sons followed. It began to cross my mind that God had another plan for me, hazy as that concept was at the time.  I had become a mother of sons and it was a role I loved.  Little boys, once such foreign territory, came to be my specialty.  I stopped thinking pink.  As a matter of fact, at that point in our lives, without benefit of Church teaching and with rapidly declining health, I stopped thinking baby – period.  Had things not changed our family would be missing seven critical members.  

Change happened however.  Like most change, it got much worse before it got better. 

I had not come into this marriage particularly healthy.  Like, ever.   A childhood racked by illness and poor nutrition left me completely compromised and the physical challenge pregnancy presented amplified the problems.  Despite my foray into vegetarianism and the effort to learn to cook, there was no denying I was going downhill and fast.  I spent most of the third pregnancy sick and took a nosedive after.  In 1995 we got news my estranged father had died.  I was introduced to that side of my family for the first time and the stress of it all was the last straw.  

We never did find out exactly what happened next, but pretty much everything that could go wrong did.  I had a significant arrhythmia, TIAs, abnormal EEGs and EKGs. Violent vertigo attacks prevented me from lying on my back at all and I was forbidden to drive.  I had recurrent migraines and parasthesia.  My vision was hindered by large black spots and heavy spider web floaters. Viral bloodwork was off but tests for Lyme disease and CFS were in the early stages and the military did not even have those diagnoses on their books.  If you did not have a disease for which they had an officially accepted diagnosis, you were not sick.  So, we left the system that had written a plethora of prescriptions which had only worsened the condition. 

What followed was  chiropractic care and dietary experimentation. Lots of supplements.  A strict yeast free regimen and vegan diet did help a great deal.  In time, much agonizingly slow moving time, the floor stopped heaving beneath my feet and my vision cleared.  My heart rate settled into a comfortable steady rhythm.  We began to consider a future again.

My husband had been going to night school throughout this period and helping with the boys where he could, doing all the driving for a good chunk of that time.  We had also gone back to church where we learned of our Faith's consistent teaching about openness to life.  We got news that Allen had been accepted into Officer Training School.  Healing had begun and life was taking all sorts of new turns, not the least of which was a positive pregnancy test.  

Allen left for OTS the winter of 93-94.  The boys and I were showered with loving support and hands on help from our friends and neighbors in our close knit base housing community.  I remember vividly the day of my mid-pregnancy ultrasound.  You did not get 'routine' ultrasounds in the military at that time, but rather a mid pregnancy and perhaps a followup later.  I hoped to hear that the baby – a boy certainly – was healthy.  That baby was healthy indeed, but unmistakably a GIRL they told me.  

I walked home from that appointment with the ultrasound pictures in hand, stopping at the doors of our neighbors to share this unbelievable news.  A girl? Us???  What had seemed like such an inevitability years before now seemed surreal. Hefty doses of retail therapy eventually helped us to wrap our minds around it and the house of boys filled with ruffles and bows in anticipation.

Allen returned home when I was 28 weeks for a 48 hour period in which we packed our van and moved our little boys to Texas. Colin would be hospitalized twice in those remaining 12 weeks.  My due date came and went.  My mother came (for the birth) and nearly went.  The day of her return ticket to Wisconsin I was induced last minute – my only induction. Later that night a baby girl joined our family.  My husband melted. 

Alannah's birth marked the end of one era for us and the beginning of the next.  

It has been such a joy to watch her grow.  I can honestly say that she is one of the easiest children we have raised.  She has strong convictions and knows her mind, but she is ever gentle about it, never overbearing. She has blessed her brothers and sisters and us. She is capable and kind.  She turns 16 today.  My prayer is that life treats her with half the great mercy and loving care which she has shown everyone around her all these years. 

 

"Time will fly; suddenly she will be grown, a young adult, ready to soar into the world and give what she came here for.  Letting go will be wrenching, and yet we know that she is not ours to keep.  She came to us to teach us our lessons, to give us joy, to make us whole, and to connect us with God." 

– Jennifer Lesefski, Chicken Soup for a Mother's Soul

Alannah16
 

Simple Woman’s Daybook (or nightbook)

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For Today, July 26th, 2010

(more daybooks at Peggy's)

Outside my window… overcast and cool.  The clouds tend to collect in the valley making it look like the forest is smoky.  

Fogvalley
 

I am hearing…. Abbie absolutely bursting with language.  Her word choice blows me away.  We were at the thrift shop sifting through a rack of baby clothes when she grabbed a top and said "Cute!".  I picked up a skirt that would match which did not meet her approval.   "NOT cute!" she said very decisively and would not allow it in the cart.  She has a variety of adjectives for situations which arise in our house: 'gross', 'ewww', and 'asgusting' make frequent appearances. 

Otherwise, it is wonderful to hear the piano again, even off key!

I am wearing… I think the same thing I was wearing the last time I sat here for a daybook, workout clothes.  Though to shake things up a bit let me tell you about the new bronze flower stud earrings I picked up at Target before we left.  Little rhinestone centers.  Very retro. Seen no less than three times last week. 

I am reading… the new Life Beautiful magazine.  I love it. Just happens to feature a girl's birthday party, which is right up our alley this week. In other news, catching up on Mrs. G.  Lest someone tsk me let me add that this could be said about moi as well:

"Mrs. G. is friends with people of many different faiths. Obviously, with these different faiths, come widely contradictory and opposing beliefs and philosophies about everything from deities, origins of life, holy books and doctrines to parenting styles and the choicest slice of pie in Seattle. They don't always agree to disagree…there are sometimes spirited discussions, but somehow these friendships keep on keepin' on. Mrs. G. thinks it comes down to respect and the realization that they all mainly do the best they can."

From the kitchen… iced oatmeal cookies.  Friends kept the boys while the movers were here Friday.  We sent them with Alannah's cookies which were a major hit.  I guess it may sound lame that I send my daughter's baking as gifts instead of my own.  If you tried some of both you would say no more.  I will never bake as well, nor enjoy it half so much as she.  It's a gift she has.  She says she used this recipe but I can't swear she didn't tweak it. The icing she whipped up out of her head so can't help you there.  The response from the friends was WOW!  Wow, wow WOW.  Move over Mrs. Fields.

Icedoat
 

Around the house…. I could sum up with Kieran's comment the other night.  He came in from outside and looked up at the china cabinet and said, "It looks just like home in here!"  The furniture has arrived and we are working at breakneck speed to unpack.  We bought and assembled a wall full of IKEA bookshelves Thursday night.  By Sat we had all the bedrooms, kitchen, dining, and living rooms pretty well done (minus wall art and curtains).  Now we have books and clothes to tackle.  Hoping to finish most of it by Alannah's bday party. 

I am creating… a new home. Specifically, working on wall art and window treatments next. 

I am thankful for… the way my husband has so skillfully redirected us this past month.  Had a bit of a meltdown on Saturday over a misunderstanding regarding china cabinet arrangement.  Stop laughing.  That can happen to me.  What, you can't picture me chasing the man out onto the patio debating about which pattern to display? It ended badly on my end.  Not my finest moment of late.

Moments like that are rarely over what they seem though.  It was just the last thing that happened in a string of no sleeping, hard working, emotionally charged few weeks.  He knew that.  That is why he found me in the utility room a while later, insisted we had come too far to fall apart over transferware, to discuss where the communication had misfired and how we can prevent that in the future.  

And that, my friends, is why I love this man. We by no means boast marital perfection.  But we are here today, saying these things and trying to really hear the responses.  For that, I am thankful. 

A few plans for the rest of the week….  Alannah turns 16 this week.  We are planning a birthday party with her new friends to feature a fondant cake by Moira. (see above re: my baking…)  She confided that she is uncomfortable receiving gifts so she is planning out party favors for each of them in return because she sincerely will not be happy with nothing to give in return. We look forward to celebrating the gift that  she is.

Pondering these words…

Let mercy lead 
Let love be the strength in your legs 
And in every footprint that you leave 
There'll be a drop of grace 
If we can reach 
Beyond the wisdom of this age 
Into the foolishness of God 
That foolishness will save 
Those who believe 
Although their foolish hearts may break 
They will find peace 

Rich Mullins

from my picture journal:

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on living the dream

Burned out from housekeeping, diaper  changing, paper grading, meal making, nose wiping, and the dust bunnies that sneak in from all sides?  Get some perspective today because you are living the dream.  

Love the quote on her sidebar as well:

"When we traded homemaking for careers, we were implicitly promised economic independence and worldly influence. But a devil of a bargain it has turned out to be in terms of daily life. We gave up the aroma of warm bread rising, the measured pace of nurturing routines, the creative task of molding our families' tastes and zest for life; we received in exchange the minivan and the Lunchable." 

— Barbara Kingsolver


Thank you to my husband for making this dream possible for me. I do not take it for granted, though I still do not do this as well as I would like. 

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on hurrying

"The less we are certain of the purpose of living, the more we hurry to 'kill' time.  Whoever loses his way always drives faster.

Holy people never hurry; 

their vision of timelessness gives them time. 'They who have faith do not hurry,' says the Old Testament prophet tells us."

Simple Truths, Fulton Sheen

I am 'thinking life through with Fulton Sheen' as the subtitle suggests, thanks to my friend Wesley Anne. This is my thought for the day.  

Hurry, hurry has no blessing as the saying goes.

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Simple Woman’s Daybook

For today, July 19, 2010

(more daybooks at Peggy's)


Outside my window... hot and muggy. We had a reprieve this weekend but the heat came on strong this morning. Glad we got the hike in yesterday.

I am wearing... white microfiber top and gray workout pants and tennies. Had a session with Gilad this morning, which was not as nice as my sessions with Leslie Sansone. Noticing the workouts from the 90s are more uptempo and frantic, thus harder on the joints and not necessary more effective. 

Considering these words: 

" If you can't be a good example, then you you'll just have to be a horrible warning." 

-thanks to Jen for giving me my options lol. 

I am creating: Got the new little portable sewing machine set up this weekend and fixed hems. It works like a charm for a cheapie machine.  I didn't want to spend a fortune knowing I would be running it on a transformer. Definitely like the Singer better than the Brother machine. 

Sew
 

Also, picked up a new Photoshop Elements book which looks promising. Need to figure out all the "large array of tools, options, palettes, and menus."  I am an intelligent woman.  I can do this. I think. 

From the kitchen: fresh produce, German coffee, dinner taken to our friends with the new baby. Should probably add that pork chop dinner last week which my husband matter of factly pronounced the worst plate of food I have ever sat before him. Truly was that. Havent mastered the oven temps and everything gets hotter here, either due to the altitude or the voltage or both.  Those chops would have made very respectable hockey pucks, let me tell you. Ugh.

I am planning…  where the furniture will go when it arrives, a playdate for the boys, the new school year, and to walk the trail a few more times this week. 

(ps – plans altered before publishing – movers arrive in the am)

From the learning room: Last week was Irish dance camp. 

Ceili 3
 

The big girls (above L) and Kieran will be enrolling in the dance school this school year. Very very cool. 

Ceili 1
Ceili 2

Looking at Teaching Textbooks.  Aidan began The Shining Company. Journaling all around.

I am thankful for… an evening of laughs and window shopping and TALK talk TALKing. Needed that, though I am more confused than ever about what I want the house to look like. And yes, it probably takes up more thought time for me than your average Joe. Not sure why that is. Design is terribly important to me even if no one else ever sees it. Beauty is its own excuse I guess.

Pottery
 

I am reading… Blue Ruin is finished.  If I had to share one book with my daughters as they become young women who will be discerning future spouses this would be it. Fiction can be so much more effective at showing vs telling. I hope they bury this message deeply in their hearts. 

From my picture journal…

Game 

 game night on the patio in jammies