Doesn't Census 2010 Seem Just a Little Bit... Odd?

Every decade, a census is taken in the United States, so Census 2010 came as no surprise. But doesn't this year's census hoopla seem a bit weird?

The government reminds me of the mother of a spoiled, recalcitrant child, pleading, cajoling and threatening in the hopes the child will do some small thing she wants. The latest constant reminder is that mailing the form only costs the government, and therefore the taxpayer, 42 cents, whereas having someone come to the door costs $57. They tell us this via expensive commercials and numerous mailings - our humble home has received no less than four mailings regarding the well-publicized census. First, we received a letter telling us it was coming. Next, it came! Not long after arrived a letter informing us it had come. What is this, the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes?

Long after we had mailed it back, a duplicate census form, slightly different from the first, arrived, also warning us we must fill it out by law. I know personally of more than one confused citizen who dutifully mailed back both census forms. So of course we all know the next step in that parade. But they are all elderly and live in Florida, so perhaps this is not a country-wide phenomenon.

The 2010 Census is pretty funny. It wasn't at all surprising that Census Day 2010 fell on April 1st, otherwise known as April Fool's Day. As a matter of fact, all the questions, which most of us filled out in March, refer to April, as in "How many people lived in your house on April 1, 2010?" Sort of a census for Trekkies - future tense in the past via wormhole, or something. Without a rip in the time/space continuum, I couldn't say with absolute certainty, so I just guessed. Even though everything was dumbed down, it still managed to be confusing, so guessing was really all that was left to me. For instance, I was asked if anyone who lives here sometimes lives elsewhere, such as prison. Well, no, not on March 25th; but who knows what might happen by April 1st?

The questions are in English and Spanish, and given the April Fool’s Day tie-in, I was tempted to fill out the Spanish side, answering None of the Above to the question inquiring whether  I am Spanish, Latino, or Hispanic. But they don't consider this question related to race. The race section is separate, and very specific until it suddenly reverts to "other." I didn't think it was politically correct to be obsessed with race any more. I don't understand how that knowledge will help them "determine allocation of federal funds, as well as seats in the House of Representatives," which is the stated purpose of the census.

But at least it was short. Just ten questions. Per person. In two languages. In 2000 the census was only seven questions. It was also estimated to take ten minutes. I guess we're getting slow. Of course, in 2000 they also boasted that “some day, there may be no need for paper census questionnaires: Census 2000 will be the first in which many households can respond online." So maybe, since we all got computer savvy in preparation, we have forgotten how to fill out paper forms. Or maybe we're just disappointed. Doing a census with pencil and paper, then mailing it back by snail mail is a bit like pulling out a stylus and clay tablet these days.

That's probably why the statement on the back, from the Paperwork Reduction Project, is my favorite part. Say the form takes you more than the allotted 10 minutes. Perhaps you are trying to think whether any of your household is likely to be visiting the prison on April 1st. The Paperwork Reduction Project gives us all a place where we can officially complain. Any comments regarding this "burden" estimate should be reported to them immediately. No doubt they will send out a letter apologizing. Or maybe two.

Personally, I think the whole problem could have been solved by mailing out ONE census form with a notice prominently displayed, informing each recipient that if they failed to mail the form back by a certain date, they would personally be fined $57.00, collected by the policeman sent to their house to enforce the filling-out process. Of course that might have completely changed the argument over who gets to be Person #1!

Beware the Grandparent Scam

I don't know if you've heard about the Grandparent Scam, because although it has been around for a while, the victims are pretty embarrassed and don't really want to talk about it. I'm not sure really why they are embarrassed, though. This scam doesn't tempt by greed; it preys on the love a grandparent has for their grandchild. My grandchild is still, as they say, "in the oven," and I would already do absolutely anything for her!

Anyway, the scam involves a frantic phone call from a young person to an elderly person; when the older person answers, the younger says "Grandpa?" and leaves them to say something like "Is this Johnny?" thus providing the name. Then the game is on. Supposedly there has been a car crash in Canada in a rental car; the beloved grandchild will go to jail if they aren't wired X amount of dollars within, say, an hour and a half; they are depending on Grandpa to save them! It's all rushed, panicked, and often Grandpa can't hear real well to boot. Plus the line gets conveniently crinkly if the grandchild is supposedly answering anything that would identify them as completely ignorant. If this ruse doesn't work fast enough, the a psuedo-lawyer comes on and really turns the screws. Oh, and they are always begged not to tell "mom and dad" because it would only worry them.

I know personally of two people who have fallen for this and I think others need to be alert. Even in the remote chance this is real, your grandchild can afford to wait until you verify the information. And trust me, chances are that it is NOT real.

So that's my Consumer Alert for the day. I have one month to "show the doctor what I can do" in the way of exercise and other health measures, before he begins monkeying with my medicine, so I'm off to the races, so to speak. I have a million things to write percolating in my head and eventually one of them will swim to the top, so I'll be back then.

The Nina, The Pinta and a Nephew

I have discovered that chicken pox in adulthood is nothing to sneeze at. (Hence all the Benadryl. Ha, ha). But I am slowly recovering. Meanwhile, we took our youngest son, the history buff who loves Sailing Ships, down to the Yacht Basin to tour the replicas of the Nina and the Pinta. (Some day they hope to add a Santa Maria).

 Ship builders in Brazil built the replicas with authentic hand tools. The Nina is built to size; the Pinta is a bit bigger and can be rented as a party boat. As long as you and your guests are not prone to seasickness. Like I appear to be. I could stand on the deck of the Pinta, but when I climbed aboard the smaller Nina with the slanting deck, gently rocking in the gentle surf, and looked up through the swaying sails - well, I had to get off, so I wouldn't embarrass myself. My husband and I enjoyed the tour. Our son is considering signing on as crew!

Even though I was up until 5:00 a.m., I was still able to go to church on Resurrection Day! I was forced to wear pants, which was very weird, but I was happy to be able to worship that day, of all days. In the afternoon, one of my sons brought me an Easter Lily plant. It is a beautiful plant and a thoughtful gift, which I really appreciated.

On Wednesday evening, we got a call that our 21 year old nephew had been taken to the hospital and was about to go in to surgery. He was delivering food for a Chinese restaurant and the people he delivered to,  pistol whipped him, robbed him of everything, put him in a closet and shot him, then left him there. The surgery was to remove the bullet and to put a plate in his arm, which was so shattered they couldn't piece it together again. They have not caught the perpetrators yet. My nephew is in a lot of pain. But he is alive, and for that we are rejoicing.

Two of my son's missonary friends died within a few days of each other recently. One man of heart problems; he leaves a wife and four year old daughter. A young lady, young and vibrant and seemingly in perfect health, died of eclampsia after delivering her 4th child prematurely. She leaves a husband and 5 year old twins, a 2 1/2 year old and the newborn. It has not been easy. Life is precious and precarious; Praise be to God that because of the Resurrection of His Precious Son, Jesus, we never have to grieve as those who have no hope. As He says in His Word, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints," (Psalms 116:15) and "For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21). These are good verses to remember.

Itchy Scratchy

I wanted to write about the lovely vacation we had and various things related to it. But alas, I am suffering from - well, something itchy. I woke up with a painful welt on my chin. We thought it might be a spider bite, but it spread some, and since the biggest welt-type thing was over a nick from a fingernail, I was worried it was another staph infection. It spread more -a lot more - pretty much everywhere, with itchy, oozy welts ranging in size from dime to silver dollar, and it was intensely itchy. We had done a lot of yard work, "fighting off" the overgrown jungle (err, I mean, lot) next door from eating our yard. So maybe it was poison ivy, oak or sumac. I know there were various vines, etc. where we were working. But then it spread more, only mostly in small, fluid-filled blisters. Besides serious itchiness, I also began having severe headaches and ennui, just total lack of energy. Oops, I once again thought I knew what it was.

I have kind of been proud of the fact that our whole family is evidently immune to chicken pox. Neither I nor my husband have ever had it, and none of our three sons, although I know they were exposed to it, ever contracted the chicken pox. So when my Mom thought she might have shingles, I went over to give my two cents worth. She did indeed have shingles. You can not get shingles from someone with that ailment, but you can get chicken pox from someone with shingles. And I am fairly certain that is what I've got. The doctor's nurse, going by her experience with her children, is sure that's what I have. The doc, because of the welts, leans toward poison ivy. My Mother, who feels awful about it, thinks I have both.

So I take copious amounts of Benadryl, which usually knocks me out cold. I have steeped in enough oatmeal in the form of Aveeno bath soaks to make someone a fine breakfast. I use the very strong (downright scary, if  you read the pamphlet) ointment the doc gave me a prescription for. I keep the house cold as advised. And I try sooooo haaarrrddd not to scratch.

So the posts about vacation and other, far more interesting things will have to wait a bit, until I am feeling a little less sorry for myself.

Donkey Basketball - A Blast From My Past

I found these pictures recently that brought back a half-forgotten memory. In the mid 1970s when I was young teen, donkey ball was a popular way to raise funds for school, church and civics organizations. I had heard of donkey baseball and thought it sounded like fun, so when I was asked to play a game of donkey basketball, I jumped at the chance. I don't remember what we were raising money for; I just showed up on the appointed day and hopped on a donkey. Tickets had been sold, though, so a merry crowd, anticipating fun, filled the school stadium we were playing in. What a wild, raucous game we played! Donkeys are notorious for their independence. When they don't want to do something, they... don't. I was spending so much time trying to coax my balky beast to go toward my basket rather than the opponents, that I didn't notice the referees encouraging and even rewarding the donkeys for unsportsmanlike conduct such as sudden stops, or bending their heads down so the rider slid off. I enjoyed riding contrary, spirited horses, so I had no trouble staying on my donkey; as for getting him to go where I wanted him to, that was a little trickier.

I admit I thought Donkey sports, which have been around since Depression days, had gone the way of the leisure suit, but I discovered that they are provided still, by small,family owned businesses that train the donkeys and truck them around to fundraisers in small towns across the USA. Despite the concerns of animal rights activists, the donkeys are firmly in charge; the referees keep an eye on things as well. Owners of the donkeys claim there have been no injuries to donkeys although a few humans have had minor injuries. Nowadays the riders have to sign waivers, take a short class, and wear helmets and pads, but still the games are played strictly for laughs. This quirky, charming bit of Americana may not be around much longer. I  could find only three companies across the U.S. that still provide these games. What about you? Any Donkey Ball in your past? Or future?

March Came In Like a Lion...

 

Will it go out like a lamb?

(Photo taken at Lion Country Safari in Florida)

Highly Recommended Article

There is an article here that I think some of you would really like. It is called "The Healing of a Nation," and it is written by my husband. Let me know what you think.

Childhood Songs Like "The Cannibal King"

Steviewren was talking about all the songs we used to learn as children and wondering whether anyone still taught them to the new generation of children. That got me thinking about the songs I loved (and learned from) when I was young.

Songs are such a wonderful way to teach things, all kinds of things. I was taught the books of the Bible with a song, and I still sing it when I am looking for chapter and verse. I learned scripture to song, like 1 John 7 & 8, and I learned Bible stories too. Teaching phonics to my youngest son was so easy once I found "Sing, Spell, Read and Write" by Sue Dickson. I can't recommend it highly enough, even if you only use it to teach the sounds of the letters to your child. My older sons loved the Rappin Rabbit's Safety Habits tape, and learned ways to handle scary situations.

But some songs are just for fun. Did anyone else sing "Kookaburra" or the one about the "little green frog, doing what he oughter"? My sister always liked the Prune song ("No matter how young a prune may be, they're always full of wrinkles..."). Two of my favorites were
"The Cannibal King" and "The Crocodile Song." For your amusement, the lyrics are below. Now,Steviewren, what's this about the Abba Dabba Monkey?


The Cannibal King
With the Brass Nose Ring
Fell in love with the dusky da-a-ame
And every night
By the pale moonlight
Across the lake he ca-a-ame
He hugged and kissed
His pretty little Miss
By the shade of the bamboo tre-e-ee
And every night
By the pale moonlight
It sounded like this to me-e-ee
Harrumph, (smooch, smooch)*
Harrumph, (smooch, smooch)
Harrumph Diddily I E A A A**
Harrumph, (smooch, smooch)
Harrumph, (smooch, smooch)
Harrumph Diddily I E A
Bump Diddily A A
(SMOOCH, SMOOCH)

*make smoochy, kissing noises
** pronounce each letter separately

The second song is called "The Crocodile Song"


One fine summer day
A lady sailed away
On the back of a crocodile
"You see," said she, "he's as tame as tame can be,
I'll ride him down the Nile."
The croc winked his eye
As she bade them all goodbye
Wearing a happy smile
By the end of the ride
The lady was inside
And the smile on the crocodile!

What songs do you remember?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Uck! I'm Sick Again...

Perhaps all the soup, kleenex, antibiotics and cough drops triggered this memory from my childhood. We keep passing one illness after another around our family, and this one is the worse yet, at least for me. Well, for this go-round, I mean. But it's not as bad as when I was a kid.

One day when I was 8 years old (in 1969), I got to feeling poorly at school. I don’t remember anything about that morning, although I know I couldn’t have ridden my bicycle like I usually did because something needed repairing, so my Mother must have driven me that day. It was too far to walk.

Anyway, the first thing I remember is sitting in class, feeling odd. I remember looking around and thinking nothing looked right. The room seemed dim, my head ached, my lessons didn’t seem to make sense, and I finally just put my head down on my desk. When the teacher came over to check on me, I asked, for the first time in my school career, if I could go to the nurse’s office. I normally loved school and was enthusiastic about my lessons, so the teacher gave her permission right away.

I went to lie down and the nurse called my mother to see if she could give me aspirin. I spoke briefly to my mother, reassuring her that nothing was seriously wrong, the nurse gave me aspirin, and I rested. The nurse chatted with me a bit, and I didn’t feel too badly, so when I heard the lunch bell, I told her maybe I should try eating something and see if it helped.

I went and found my class, got my tray of food, and sat down. But again I began feeling very odd, and I couldn’t eat after all. The lighting seemed strange. The noisy cafeteria sounds dimmed, too, with everyone looking distant as if I was at the other end of a tunnel. Nothing hurt, but I felt disoriented, so I went back to the nurse’s office to lie down some more.

I have always tried not to be dramatic or burdensome when I didn’t feel well, but when the nurse looked my way and I smiled at her, she said she was going to have to send me back to class, since I didn’t have a fever and didn’t seem to be so very sick. She may have thought I was just trying to get out of working. But I stayed put, and she said I could stay a few more minutes.

Before many of those minutes had passed, I suddenly became very ill indeed. The nurse thought I had brought up what troubled me and all would be well. But then I got sick again. And again. Increasingly violent episodes came in waves, but when the nurse called my mother, no one answered. Finally she decided I would have to be taken home. The only person available to take me was the principal of the school.

Our principal, like most I suppose, had the reputation of being very strict and stern, and I was a little bit afraid of her. She came to collect me, but I could tell she didn’t really want to take me home. As we got in her large, fancy, very new car, she commanded me not to be sick in it. I don’t think she was trying to be mean, maybe just trying to lighten the moment, or distract me. Plus I suppose she truly did not want me to be sick in her car. Somehow I managed not to be, and soon we were pulling up in my drive. However, no one was home.

She was unsure what to do, but I told her I had a key, and besides, I was sure my Mother would be home before long. She was hesitant, but I assured her I’d be fine, so she left me to go in and put myself to bed.

My mother came before long; she had taken my bicycle to be repaired as a surprise for me. She was surprised to find me there, sorry she had not been there to greet me. She stayed with me for most of the night, but nothing she did helped. I could not keep any medicine down, not even so much as a sip of water. I didn’t eat anything else that day, but still I was violently ill over and over again.

The next day was a Saturday, so the clinic wasn’t opened. My mother called the emergency doctor’s number. We didn’t have 911 then, of course. The doctor told her to meet him at the clinic. I was too weak to walk, so my stepfather carried me out to the car. When we got to the clinic, no one was there, but right away a nurse pulled in, unlocked the door and turned on some lights. The doctor arrived while she was leading us to his exam room. He looked me over, asked questions, and when I got sick once again, choking and gagging on green bile, he said I was throwing up the lining of my stomach. He was concerned and decided to do a spinal tap. The nurse stripped my clothes off, laid me on my side on a small table, and painted my back with mercurochrome. Then she began curling me in to a ball, telling me to pretend I was a squirrel. She curled me tighter than I thought possible, and then tighter still. Then the doctor took a very long needle and inserted it somewhere in the vicinity of my spine. He withdrew spinal fluid, put it in a little vial, and showed it to my mother. It was cloudy, which confirmed his fears.

I had meningitis. The doctor told my mother to take me straight to the hospital and he would follow. He said not to go anywhere else, and definitely not to allow me to eat or drink anything at all.

At the hospital I was put in an isolation room. This meant a private room, of course, but it had very little in it. No t.v. Nothing that couldn’t be burned or disinfected after I left. No one, including nurses, could come in without scrubbing, putting on paper masks, gloves, gowns, and paper booties. I couldn’t have visitors, other than one short visit with family only in the evening, and they had to gown up as well.

I was hooked to an I.V. since I couldn’t have so much as a sip of liquid. Nothing by mouth. The nurses came in sometimes to take my vital signs, which they wrote on their arms. Mostly I was alone. I was scared. So was my mother. She held it together until she got home, where my poor stepfather, who had heard nothing for hours, saw her come home without me. When he asked where I was, she burst in to tears and sobbed for awhile before she could tell him what was going on. He was afraid I was dead.I didn’t find out about that until much later.

After a few days, I could have liquids. The trays were styrofoam, so I would draw pictures on them to put in my window. Of course, they had to be burned eventually.

Finally I got to go home, and after a while at home, I was able at last to return to 4th grade. Since I was already doing 5th grade work, I wasn’t behind on my school work, and soon the frightening incident was behind me.

Only there was one footnote; about 5 years later something awful happened that made my mother cry all over again. She sold Avon at the time, and had a customer who was also a friend. The customer had a 9 year old daughter that she doted on. One day the girl got sick; her mother took her to the doctor, but he said it was only a virus, and sent her home. That night the little girl went to bed, and when her mother checked on her later, she was dead. Of meningitis. So I am very grateful to that doctor who was willing to come in on a Saturday, do a spinal tap in his office, and save my life.

I trust this illness is nothing like so serious! But I'll sure be glad when it, too, is just a bad memory.

Paradise Regained

Hello again, I am fine. Welcome to Mr. Putz; you are welcome to visit my blog and thank you for leaving a comment. To all my friends, I have been reading your blogs, but the lazy way, through Google Reader, so I can’t leave comments; I will try to soon.

I did decide to plant my poinsettias. After a very hot, and I do mean VERY hot fall, we proceeded to break records with our cold stretch (which for us meant temps in the 20s). Before you smugly point out what a wimp I am, may I remind you that we do not have heat in our house, other than one tiny space heater (it's really cute, though, and looks like a little fireplace). I even had to break out my one and only pair of pants! Now, however, the weather is what I call "why I live in Florida weather." Surely you did not expect me to stay in the house blogging about it, did you?

Besides gardening and trying to save what's left of my poor, scorched plants (don't worry, Rosezilla is fine. She's amazing. I mean the rosebush, not me), I have also been painting, since hubby is about to launch another project and the boards needed painting first. He's going to be building a storage closet, of sorts, and he's going to close in my back porch, put lattice up to make it pretty and make a door. Then I can leave my back door open without getting varmints like raccoons, possums, and every stray cat around in my kitchen.

I've been reading "Jane Eyre," which was a Christmas gift, and enjoying it very much. Gonna put the PBS show of it with Ruth Wilson playing the lead on Netflix. I have also been exercising, as promised.

At Bible Study we are in the book of James. I love the book of James. My boys memorized it for school, so since I was their teacher (homeschool), I learned quite a bit of it too. There is so much good stuff in there! A lot of admonition, instruction and comfort. I love James 1:17 "Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow" (New American Standard version).

I have been writing some, but mostly for AC; in part because they are donating money to a relief organization (IRC) for the articles I write about Haiti. Living in SW Florida, we have Haitian neighbors and friends, church family and orphans being cared for by other friends; we have, like most of the country, been trying to do what we can to ease the suffering in whatever small way we can find to do it. One young girl, here on a medical visa, was supposed to go back in January. I am so glad she was here and not there. She's such a darling. The young friend who had the recent motorcycle accident, and has EMT training, was asked to go with a small medical team, but she was heartbroken to realize she was not healed enough from her accident yet to stand for very long. (It turned out both ankles were sprained and she had a hairline fracture on her tibia, so it was a little bit worse than I had first been told).

Another friend is adopting a little child from Haiti. I have been told there were over 900 adoptions that were weeks away from completion when the earthquake hit. First they were all thrown into turmoil, but now they are expediting as many as possible. I leave you with a darling picture, from the Joint Council on International Children's Services, of a caregiver from a Haitian orphanage with her young charges while they waited at the airport for their exit visas to be expedited. 

Let the Happy New Year Begin!

(I see they have changed the way they do images on here, and it is messing me up! But I'll soldier on.) Christmas was warm and my roses were blooming their little hearts out. It is cold now, supposed to be between 30something and 50something all week. They said we haven't had 12 consecutive days below 70 degrees since 1935, but we might break the record over the next two weeks.

My head cold is nearly gone, for which I am grateful. I didn't get bronchitis this time, but I couldn't sing Christmas carols without coughing. My husband sings so beautifully, though, that I just enjoyed listening to him instead. (See my Schnozz, up above? Isn't he a hoot? He was a gift, and I love him to pieces.)

Christmas was lovely. I still have the poinsettias across my table, but I am trying to decide whether or not to plant them. I keep hoping I can keep one growing long term. I have a new location in the yard to try out. As for the previous post, all the things say Merry Christmas, obviously, in the following languages: Spanish; German; English; French; Hebrew; Swahili; Russian; Thai; Slovak; Bulgarian; Greek; Italian; Estonian; Portuguese. No, to my regret I don't speak all those languages. Only English, and a smattering of Spanish. I borrowed these from my youngest son's Facebook page. He's a missionary. No, he doesn't speak all these either, although he knows some German, and has been to Greece and Bulgaria.

Christmas was lovely and full of family, beauty and good food. And good news! Thanks to our oldest son and his lovely wife, I am going to be (or rather, as my husband pointed out, I already am!) a GRANDMA!!! The baby is due in late June. And we are EXCITED!!! I've been practicing on all the babies at church.

Our middle son sent us to see Avatar at the movies as one of our gifts; we saw it in 3D, naturally. Although I did not care for some of the language, other than that I loved the movie! It was beautiful, actually stunning, to watch, and an entertaining story as well. Pure escapism with a visual element that was amazing!

Well, for some reason I always do spring cleaning right after the new year, so I gotta get busy. Also, I didn't make resolutions this year as I have not yet gotten the good out of last years' so I will be Gardening, Exercising and Writing. Oh, one more thing. My hubby set up a google reader for me, so I can read all your blog posts in one central location a lot sooner. The only down side is that I can't comment there. I am reading your things, and as soon as I can, I will swing by and say hello. May God Bless us this year and I ask that He give me an even deeper love of and obedience to His Word.

Merry Christmas!

Feliz Navidad! Frohe Weihnachten! Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël! חג מולד שמח Krisimasi Njema! С Рождеством! สุขสันต์ วัน คริสต์มาส! Veselé vánoce! Весела Коледа! Καλά Χριστούγεννα! Buon Natale! Häid jõule! Feliz Natal!

The Gift Has Already Been Given!

Everyone is aware that this year is a little tight financially for many people. It's got people to thinking about Christmas, gift giving and what's really important. I think this is a good thing. Everyone loves gifts, of course; most people love giving nice ones as well. But is this really what makes people love Christmas so much? I don't think so.

There are a lot of things we do at Christmas time. Giving gifts is one thing. Singing carols, baking cookies, making candy, and visiting family are some more.  Also, decorating and shopping and going to parties and feasting together. But these are still not what we love about Christmas. These are things we do to celebrate what we love; tokens we give each other to celebrate what was given to us.

Because the Gift has already been given! Christmas, as Linus tells it so famously in A Charlie Brown Christmas, and as the Bible even more famously proclaims, is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ our Lord. "And the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which shall be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, Who is Christ the Lord.' " (Luke 2:10,11).  He already came; He already walked among us, brought us Hope, and then died for our sins and rose again! Everything that gives us so much joy in the celebration of Christmas ever since that Holy Night is because of Him; the general happiness, giving spirits and soft hearts we feel at this time of year especially. Of course, some people will point out that we don't know for sure that Jesus was born on December 25th. It is true that we don't know the day He was born. But we do know that He was born, and this is why we celebrate. 

Gifts are an integral part of the celebration of Christmas. God gave us the greatest Gift of all time, One that brought peace on earth and to men's hearts. The Wise Men brought gifts to the Christ Child. And we give gifts to one another in honor of His birth; we give ourselves to Him also.  So for Christians, what is really important? The cost of the gift we give? The amount of people we give gifts to? The gifts we receive? Or the fact that we are remembering the Gift God gave us in the form of His Son, Jesus Christ; the fact that we offer ourselves back to Him Who made us in the first place? "For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life." (John 3:16).

This year is a great opportunity to remember what it is you are really celebrating at Christmas time. It is easy to get caught up in everything you think you have to do and not even enjoy Christmas anymore. But it doesn't have to be that way. God already gave us everything we need to celebrate. A Baby in a manger. Peace in our hearts. Hope for eternity. The Gift has already been given. What more could we possibly need?

More Really Good Stuff

Good things happening! We've been decorating for Christmas. There was even a very obliging cold front that came in the day we put our tree up; it was all grey and overcast, rainy, windy and downright cold! Well, by our standards, anyhow. Probably because it was a change, it was lovely. It shouldn't be too hot to put up the Christmas tree, but many years it is. When you want a Slurpee afterwards, in front of a fan, instead of hot cocoa in front of a fire, you know you live in Florida! We actually got quite a lot of rain this weekend, which was a gift in itself. Great way to begin Brush Fire Season!

My Mother-in-Love and I went on our annual Shopping Trip with Lunch for my birthday. We had a great, girly-girl time and she bought me the loveliest outfit. She got an amazing silver jacket - I was calling it her Jetson's jacket - but she can totally pull it off. The woman's got style! She gave me good guidance, too, on fashion for ladies. I was pondering whether I could wear a certain, perfect outfit or whether I would get too hot, and she said, "Sometimes a lady just has to suck it up and be hot, if she looks good!" I love when the older generation teach the younger... like Aunt Ruth, who told me frequently (when she was in her 80s), "I won't worry! Worry causes wrinkles!" And my own mother, who always looks beautiful, told me once, "Do the best you can, then go eat chocolate." Works for me!

Thanks to all of you, especially Sara, who recommended Elizabeth Goudge. I am nearly done with "Valley of Song" which is simply enchanting! It is not easy to describe - the closest I could come might be to call it a fable - but it is charming and beautifully written, and I hope to go get another of her books at the library tomorrow.

My nieces have been taking ice skating lessons, which all by itself is pretty cool considering we live in southern Florida. They had a recital/show Sunday afternoon (lasted 3 hours!!!); it was a hoot. Like all recitals, there were lots and lots of tiny cherubs in darling costumes who performed all kinds of antics other than the ones they'd rehearsed. The show was perhaps a bit ambitious for the ones who could barely stand upright, actually. But unlike most recitals, there were also some amazing skaters whose names we will probably all be hearing before long. The show was based on movies, such as "Peter Pan," "Grease," "Annie," "The Sound of Music," and others, so (with the exception of "Annie") there was some really good music. And the coup de grace was Todd Eldredge! Not only did he perform, but he is going to be coaching here at our humble skating rink in between his own tours. Pretty cool! Unfortunately, one of my nieces sprained her ankle right at the end. She'll be alright, and she at least waited until she was done with both dance lessons and skating lessons. But I was sorry because I know it hurt.

Speaking of being hurt when it could be much worse, I do have something I am praising God for today. A very close friend of mine (since sixth grade!) has twin daughters; one of them was in a motorcycle accident yesterday. Someone pulled right out in front of her, and she had to lay the bike down. She skidded sideways and went right under a large pickup truck. But it never touched her. She has some painful road rash, some badly bruised bones in her foot, ankle and shin, and a few other cuts and bruises. But other than that, she is fine! Her mother, who has never been in favor of the bike, says God must have wrapped her in bubble wrap. The bike frame is bent, inexplicably. Her mother is even grateful for that, since presumably the bike cannot be ridden now. The other twin just got married - in a beautiful white dress and pink high-top tennis shoes! Tickled me.

Well, I have got to quit gabbing and go earn my keep, clean my house, and finish my library book. Until next time!

"It's the Most-Won.der.ful Time... of the Year!"

I love this time of year. Everyone seems so much happier and kinder and softer, somehow. And there's more going on than just good old, wonderful Christmas. Yesterday was the last day of Hurricane Season. In my part of the world, that's a big deal. (Of course, today is the first day of Brush Fire Season. Ugh. Always something).

Yesterday was also my 49th birthday. (That's me at one year). One more year to be in my 40s; then I'll get to reset the clock and start over. Since I'm going to live to be 100. I'll only be half way there next year. I love my birthday. I had a very nice one. It started on Saturday when I opened my front door to find 8 poinsettia plants on the porch, from my middle son. They now reside on my dining room table, and they look smashing! Such a cheerful plant. And it's RED!!! Lots of other nice things occurred, I had a lazy, spoiled weekend, and yesterday I enjoyed myself thoroughly. (Thanks for the card, Connie! So sweet!). I had chips and salsa with leftover turkey and a chaser of M&M's while watching an old Hee Haw rerun, for lunch. Then I took a lovely, leisurely bubble bath in my Wonder-Tub. Man, I love that tub. More about it another time. I also cleaned my kitchen and stuff, but I enjoy cleaning my house. Last night we watched "Operation Petticoat," with Tony Curtis and Cary Grant. Still funny after all these years (1959 is when it came out. A year before I did!).

Thanksgiving was wonderful, too. Everything turned out perfectly. And there were lots of leftovers. We all worked hard leading up to Thanksgiving Day. But we were totally lazy for the weekend afterwards. I don't do Black Friday shopping. I'm too tired from cooking and cleaning. And besides, there's nothing I want badly enough to fight the crowds for it. Also, I'm broke. So instead, I slept 'til noon, ate a huge leftover lunch, lounged in my tub, and visited with my hubby.

We watched the new Star Trek movie this weekend. Got it from Netflix. It was kinda cool seeing their version of how the original crew - Cap't. Kirk, Spock, Scotty and all the rest - first got together.  I've also been reading some good books by Deeanne Gist. "A Bride Most Begrudging," and "The Measure of a Lady," which is my favorite. I'm about to read an Elizabeth Goudge book that Sara recommended. I am going to post again soon. Bye for now!

Giving Thanks on Thanksgiving

From the first year of our marriage, Thanksgiving took on a different feel each year. The first year, we "borrowed" my little brother, and had a picnic on the beach in Naples, Florida. Then we went to play on a water slide. When our own kids were small, I cooked for a week, with them playing on the floor at my feet in our tiny kitchen. I made my own stuffing, special rolls that took two days to make, pies, everything I could think of. We invited all of the family plus a recent widow from church. The day turned bitter cold, highly unusual for Southwest Florida, so we had to bring in space heaters. I remember my little boy being so puzzled when he overheard me saying we needed an extra leaf in the table to fit everyone around it. He finally caught ahold of my skirt to ask, "Mommy, how will putting leaves on the table make it bigger?"

That was a lovely meal. I put kernels of corn on each plate, and then passed a basket around. Each person said what they were thankful for as they put a kernel of corn in the basket. All of us had a hard year that year, but we all found something to be thankful to God for also. It reminded me of what the first Thanksgiving must have been like, when the settlers had barely survived the year and had winter coming in fast.

One year my husband's Grandmother made the trip down from Indiana and we all went and had a picnic in the park, then played games. She seemed so delighted, and couldn't wait to go back up north and tell her friends how she'd spent Thanksgiving on a beautiful Florida day. My husband's Aunt Ruth spent her very last Thanksgiving meal with us; I used the special dishes she had given us. She was so happy, her eyes were sparkling.

When the kids were old enough, we began volunteering at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving day. I'd put chili in the crock pot for our meal, or we'd have taco salad when we came home, exhausted from serving hundreds of turkey dinners to grateful, hungry people. The boys were assigned something like cutting the pies; they worked hard, and so cheerfully.

At some point the boys decided they wanted a big, traditional family dinner. I still have some of the name cards they made for each family member's plate, complete with drawings of Indians, pilgrims or turkeys. They each had their favorite foods, which I would try to incorporate; this led to a really big menu! It didn't help any that one didn't like turkey, only chicken; hubby only liked ham. Some like pumpkin pie, others only apple. I just make it all.

I learned to make amazing rolls, but could never get the hang of gravy. One year when the boys were old enough, they went to KFC to buy gravy for our Thanksgiving meal. It became part of family lore when they related that the young clerk had asked them whether the gravy was "for here, or to go?" One admitted he'd almost said "We'll have it here. Do you have straws?"The one son who doesn't like any gravy but white has learned to make his own.

Even my son's cat, Patience, tried to help. I was cooking away one Thanksgiving morn, when I heard a sort of strangled sound behind me. I turned to look, and the cat, looking like a little Pilgrim maid in her black and white coat, proudly laid a squirrel down at my feet. She seemed quite startled and upset when I screamed! She snatched up her gift and began running all over the house with it. Later, she tried again, with a lizard!

Now we usually have a big, family meal with the grandparents invited, and they pitch in with some dishes. One year our oven quit working the week of Thanksgiving. I did all my cooking in a toaster oven, while my mother-in-law roasted the turkey. That actually worked out pretty well! Another year when our son was remodeling our kitchen and miscalculated the timing of some repairs, I had no kitchen sink, no running water, and a huge mess. We all got to work and pulled off the meal that time, too. I think that was the year my son and husband spontaneously decided to cut a large "window" in the wall between the kitchen and living room hours before Thanksgiving dinner. I had mixed feelings. I had wanted that window through there for years; but not necessarily on Thanksgiving day! But it let so much light and air in to the kitchen, and I wasn't isolated. I ended up truly thankful for that window.

I am busily cooking and baking this year's meal. It isn't that hard to plan, because even though I'd love to make something different every year, no one will go for that. Well, actually, they don't care if I make new stuff - as long as I make all the old stuff too! So I'll probably just stick to the same old things, tried and true, beloved and anticipated. That's okay, though. Some things never change. Like the love of family. Like the gratitude we have to Almighty God for His provision throughout another year. As this Thanksgiving of 2009 approaches, I am most thankful to be His child. He has provided all of my blessings, and He is the best blessing of all. Happy Thanksgiving, and may the Lord make us truly thankful.

The October Thing is Always in November

Last night we enjoyed the 20-something anniversary of the October thing. Only it is always in November now. It began in October and kept sliding forward year by year until  it settled in to the second weekend of November, or thereabouts. But everyone kept right on calling it The October Thing. It is always on a Saturday night. That hasn't changed. The whole family goes over to the lot my parents own on the banks of a small lake, where they've strung lights, set up a few tables and chairs, and my step dad has a lovely campfire burning. All the children can't resist playing in it. They start with sticks, then surreptitiously sneak other things in to it, like paper plates, until they get caught and get in trouble. Of course now it is the younger kids. The older kids play other pranks.

Everyone brings some food to share. We never coordinate, so we never know what it will be. Last night it was mostly cookies and chips. But there was also my sister's incomparable devilled eggs. And my brother brought "long tailed frog," also called "swamp lizard." Some people call it alligator meat. Because, of course, that is what it is. I had the tiniest piece I could find, just so I could honestly tell you I have eaten alligator meat. Nope, it doesn't taste like chicken. Maybe like pork... I guess it is "what eats the other white meat." A very mild, rather chewy meat.

The main course, though, is hot dogs that we all cook on forked metal cooking poles. I cook mine until it is bubbling, but it is usually still ice cold when I bite in to it. Last night I got it done really well. That was a first. It doesn't matter, really, because the main event is roasting marshmallows. Everyone has their own special way of doing it. One young niece likes to cook them, but not eat them, so she is always going around begging everyone else to let her cook theirs. Her special technique is to catch them on fire, blow them out when they are bubbly and blackened on the outside, then present them to the recipient. I like to get them toasted medium brown all the way around so they are a little crispy on the outside, and melty on the inside. Perfect! My once a year treat. My step dad always makes his hot spiced cider, too, and has leaves it on its own special table in a tiny crockpot.

We talk about all kinds of things. We talk politics and religion and sports, hunting and fishing, video games, tell funny stories and plan future get togethers. My brother brought his pet raccoon last night. It loves to drink soda out of his cup. A teenage niece recited "The Man From Snowy River," Australian accents and all. Sometimes we sing, and one year a son who'd had a dancing lesson taught the box step to a younger cousin.

Gradually, later then they'd intended to stay, different families begin gathering up chairs and children and heading for home, usually taking chips or cookies with them. Everyone is full of marshmallows and root beer, and smells like smoke after our once a year, micro-camping family adventure. 

Health Care Reform or Health Insurance Reform?

I know feelings run strong about the Health Care Reform bill that passed the House and is being debated in the Senate. Everybody has their own take on it, at least partly based on their own experiences, and that's alright. In fact, I am very interested in what you have to say about the matter. I think the best solutions come from listening to a wide variety of opinions. Not that any one is asking me to decide the solution, but I know we can all learn from each other, and I want to learn from you.

I wrote an article about what I see as a need for Health Insurance Reform for Associated Content that you can find here and after you read it, please leave a comment, either there under the article, and/or come back here and tell me what you think. Whether you agree or disagree, I would like to hear how you see the issue and why. Or, if you post about it on your own blog, please tell me here so I can come and read it. Thanks!

Holidays and Baseball

Now that Halloween is behind us, is everyone ready for Thanksgiving? I love Thanksgiving. The family, the feasting, and the special time to all give thanks to God for His incredible blessings.

We had a wonderful visit with our son and daughter in law. They are very happy newlyweds. We really enjoyed watching the World Series together too. Our new daughter in law really knows her stuff as she played the position of catcher on her college softball team, and she added interesting color commentary. She is rooting for NY and I am rooting for the Phillies, so that made it fun, too. I like a lot of the Yankee players, though. It is a friendly rivalry. I try not to miss the World Series; it is the one sporting event I always try to make sure to see. It is funny how many connections I have to different family members, old and new, through baseball. My first real memory of watching baseball was with my Grandmother, who loved the Cincinnati Reds.

It is that wonderful season of holiday celebrations, family time, worship and incredible food! Enjoy!