I said I wouldn't do this meme. Does that count as one?

20 Things I will never do.

1. Like mushrooms.

2. Watch one of my kids come out of general anesthesia without tearing up. That maternal thing is pretty strong.

3. Let a dog lick me without smacking it.

4. Leave a spider alive in my bedroom at night.

5. Prefer snow over the beach.

6. Enjoy watching cop shows on TV.

7. Be as accomplished a musician as I would like.

Wow, this is really hard.

And I'm only on number 8.

8. Let a dog of mine be untrained.

9. Remember all the German I learned in seven years.

10. Commute to DC for work.

11. Get a tattoo. Nasty.

12. Stop being pedantic about my brakes and tires. Really. I'm a freak. Just ask Ben.

13. Be able to design my own blog. Thingy. Or whatever you call it when you make it look nice. See?

14. Know how to use a slide-rule. I bet some of you don't even know what they are, do you?

15. Stop serving the Lord.

16. Not have a sweet tooth.

Oh my goodness, I'm almost done.

17. Not be bothered by mouth noises. Honestly, I can teach any kid to chew with his mouth closed. If only I could teach the dog THAT.

18. Be a morning person.

19. Win the lottery. You have to play to win, you know.

20. Not care about grammar. I'm sort of pedantic about that, too.

Well, that was harder than I thought it would be. And my brain is tired from the effort now, so I'm off to bed to read.

Be thankful ~

Karen

She hates those leather seats.

I just had to share this one thing that happened yesterday which I forgot to include in yesterday's post about wisdom teeth.

When I got Abbie home, I called the house and had Elijah meet me in the driveway. I knew I'd never get her inside by myself. Elijah put the dog in his crate and came running outside. I opened the door and woke (term used very loosely) Abbie from her drug-induced stupor. I told her we were going in through the garage and straight to her bed. I repeatedly reminded her to keep standing up and "think strong legs," as if that would make any difference at all. There was no thinking going on there. I removed her ice packs and unbuckled her seatbelt. I told her I was going to put her feet on the ground and I wanted her to stand up and we would help her walk. She grunted, eyes rolling around in her head.

I so wish I'd had a video camera.

I gently swung her feet out of the car and put them on the ground. Before I could reach for her arm, she slid like a cartoon character right off the leather seat and wound up in a puddle on the driveway with her face in the seat. Elijah caught her just before her chin hit the floor of the car. He strong-armed her into a standing position (that boy is HERCULES - I'm surprised he didn't dislocate her shoulder), let me get under her other arm, and we literally dragged her into the house.

Sometimes I am amazed at the opportunities I miss. It would have been awesome on Youtube.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Change is in the air. Or is that pollen?

Yes, I know. Moving the furniture again. Sorry, honey.

Going, going, gone!

Today was the big day. Finally. Abbie has been more than a little stressed about the whole wisdom teeth thing. So as we were driving down to Richmond this morning, she asked why they were called wisdom teeth. I explained that, because they didn't come in until you were around 18, and because it is assumed that we have some wisdom when we become adults, they're called wisdom teeth.

She laughed and said, "That's when you're the dumbest!"

Quite profound, coming from an 18 year old.

Anyway, Abbie decided some time ago that she wanted pictures of her taken at this momentous occasion. She said she wanted to put one on her facebook. I wondered about that, but agreed to bring the camera.

She took this "before" of herself in the car this morning:


And here she is "after."


I told her I thought she'd regret her decision, but took the picture as instructed. The doctor fussed at me for bringing a camera, but I assured him it was her idea. At the moment, she is unconscious, with ice packs tied around her face in a stocking leg. I'll spare you that picture.

Be thankful ~

Karen

We have quite a confusing heritage.

I was reading a blog today about a woman who traced her family roots all the way back to Adam on ancestry.com. All on a two-week free trial. Anyway, she had a bunch of royalty in there somewhere - kings of Sweden or something like that. And that reminded me of a funny.

When Ben gets tired, he becomes quite word-efficient. And hard to understand. So one time, he called our friends Tom and Karen and got their answering machine. It said, "Leave your name and we'll get back to you." Ben took that literally. He said, "It's Ben." That's all. Except that in his uber-efficiency, it sounded more like, "Sben."

We found out later that our friends spent a solid hour listening to that one word over and over, trying to figure out what or who it was. When they finally figured it out, they were all yelling, "Oh!!! IT'S BEN!!!!" and laughing their heads off.

Then "Sben" became a big joke. Tom started introducing him with a Swedish accent as "This is my good friend, Sben!

Then last week Ben and I were out and needed to call Mike at home. When we're out the kids usually screen calls, and don't pick it up until they hear us on the answering machine. So when the machine beeped, Ben said, "Hey Mike, it's Pop." Except that he was being efficient with his words again, and it sounded like "Spop." So what language is that?

Be thankful ~

Karen

Green, green, green!

OK, so maybe I overdid it just a tad yesterday. Today I am pretty tired and a little sore in the back, probably from the vacuuming of the cars. But boy, those cars look good!

I got my strawberries in the freezer this morning, at least the ones the kids didn't eat while I was cutting them up. I wound up with six quarts to freeze. Yes, TWO QUARTS got eaten while I was cutting.

Got the laundry done, did math with Abbie, swept the dog hair tumbleweeds out of the kitchen and put on some real clothes. Then Abbie informed me that her driving instructor said she couldn't get her license until she was better at pulling out into traffic. She might be just a little hesitant, but with good reason. We live in a very congested area full of idiot drivers. There is much to fear.

So we went out to do errands with Ab driving. I wouldn't tell her anything. I usually coach her as to the best way to go, the easiest way to get out of a certain shopping center, that kind of thing. But not today. She would ask, "Should I turn here or at the next one?" And I would answer, "I don't care. You're the driver."

She loves me.

One of the things I did tell her was that she needed to think about the vehicle she was driving - the Honda, with its powerful V-6 and great pick-up, or the Acura with its mouse-powered 4-cylinder that can't get out of its own way. Today she was driving the Honda.

That girl has been watching too much NASCAR. She would check for traffic and start yelling, "Boogity, boogity, boogity boys! Let's go racing!"

She's good at pulling out now. And scaring the bejeebers out of Mama. And she knows just how much power the Honda has. Which is much more than she needs. But to buy my favor, she took me to lunch at Chipotle and, I'm telling you, that food is incredible!

I'm going to take her racing, er, driving again tomorrow.

Be thankful ~

Karen

It's more like Labor Day around here.

What a day we have had.

First thing this morning I planted beans, which I was actually supposed to do last week but never got around to. So it's done.

Then I decided that, since it was going to be a beautiful day out, I would vacuum and wash my car. Pollen season seems to be over, and that's the time I wash the cars. Once a year.

I bet you think I'm kidding.

I'm not.

Then I thought, I'll do the Acura too. That's the one Leah drives. So I was out there up to my elbows in shopvac and dirty floors when I thought, you know, I ought to get Mike to drive his car up here too since it probably hasn't been cleaned since I did it two years ago. Yeah. Mike's car was so dirty that, after I beat the floor mats against a tree, they were significantly lighter, and the neighborhood was surrounded in a cloud of dust. Pretty nasty. I got all that done by 12 and did the washing after lunch.

And as if all that weren't enough for one day, I had the brilliant idea to run out for these:

Don't you wish the picture was scratch 'n sniff?

Now it's 8 pm and I've had my shower and I'm ready for bed. Nowhere in there is a thought of hulling a single strawberry. So I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow.

Be thankful ~

Karen

The mystery gift subscription.

We are a family of political junkies. As well as American Idol junkies. Good thing we have our intellectual side, isn't it?

Anyway, I am a regular subscriber to National Review, the publication started by William F. Buckley many years ago. As a matter of fact, I believe he began NR in 1963, when I was two years old. Since WFB started it, I'm sure you can tell it's a conservative magazine. Anyway, I had never heard of it until about a year ago when it magically started to appear in my mailbox every two weeks. Seriously, I never ordered it. Ben said he hadn't either, but was thrilled to get it. I thought maybe it was a marketing gimmick, and that it would end after a few editions. But here we are, a year later, and still they come like clockwork. To my name and address.

Then last week I got a renewal form telling me my subscription was about to run out and would I like to renew for another year. So I decided to call them and ask how the first one started. I did and here's the conversation I had with the lovely, conservative young lady on the other end of the line:

Me: I'm trying to find out how the first subscription started, because, although I love your magazine, I never ordered it.

Lovely Conservative Young Lady: Well, let me just look up your account here.

pause.

LCYL: I looks like this was a gift subscription.

Me: Really? Does it say who it was from?

LCYL: Yes, it's from a Fernando Villar, in California.

pause.

Me: I have never heard that name in my entire life. I have no idea who that is.

I asked her to spell the last name, I asked for more information (none was available), I repeated several times that I had absolutely no concept of who this person was nor how he knew my name and address. Isn't that the strangest thing?

So hey, if you are Fernando Villar, thank you so much. I've really enjoyed my gift. And if you know Fernando, please send my appreciation along.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Cheeseburger smoothies, aren't.

I'm pretty disgusted that the rocker-screamer won AI last night, although I understand that he's more marketable. But if it really IS a singing competition, David A. won, hands down. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

We are cold here in Virginia. I'll be planting beans today in my jeans and sweatshirt and two pairs of socks. What's up with this?

Last night, Cory ran the teen meeting at church. Our teens have a separate service on Wednesday nights. They sing, take prayer requests, one gives a short devotion, and Mr. Morgan preaches. Since Mr. M was out of town yesterday, he asked one of the college students to run things, so Cory did. Cory does a great job preaching and the kids love him. Usually we have the service first, then a game, but Cory likes to stir things up a bit, so we had the games first.

He asked for four guys to volunteer. They stood behind a table at the front of the room. Each one received a can of Mountain Dew and Cory told them they'd be having a race to see who could drink it fastest. But just to make things interesting, he had each guy take off one shoe and sock. Jonathan didn't have socks, so Cory shared one of his. They popped the cans open, slid the sock over the can, and drank the soda through the sock. Did you catch that? Jonathan drank a Mountain Dew through Cory's sock. That had been on his foot. Are you sufficiently grossed out yet?

Then he asked for one girl and one guy volunteer. Of course after the last fiasco none of the girls would chance it, so Cory picked Rachel, who had missed the earlier game and didn't really know what was going on. Rachel was competing against Josh.

Each one received a Mountain Dew and a double cheeseburger from McD's. Rachel just knew she could win this one. But with Cory, things must be more interesting. Out came the blender. Each contestant was handed the Mountain Dew/double cheeseburger smoothie and the groaning began. Rachel tried holding her nose, but the chunks got the better of her. She couldn't drink it facing us so she turned around, and in the end, drank more of hers than Josh did. The reward? A Mountain Dew and a king-size Reese's.

I don't know about you, but I'm having a hard time keeping my coffee down just thinking about it.

Wordless Wednesday

AI - the end of the season.

I admit it. We are American Idol junkies. We've watched it faithfully for three seasons now. It's one of the very few shows I will actually sit and watch and enjoy. I'm just not a TV person.

Anyway, last night's finale was quite the show, but just as we thought would happen, David A. most definitely outsang David C. I'm not a fan of rock-type stuff to begin with, but even I can admit when a rocker is good. David C. is just another rocker, and I can't stand the screaming.

So guess what we were all doing AS SOON AS the phone lines opened?
(Sorry the photo is blurry. New camera issues.) Abbie had two phones going, and the rest of us were using every cell phone in the house. If David A. doesn't win it won't be our fault.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Breathing IS a necessity. Too bad.

So guess what! It's raining! I know that's hard to believe, but there is liquid coming down in great quantities and the dog won't go out, so I know it's true.

*sigh*

Abbie's pretty disgusted that she couldn't have her wisdom teeth out yesterday. When I called the office yesterday morning to ask about it, I told the receptionist Abbie had a cold, but it wasn't a bad one - she was just a little stuffed up. The girl said, "Hold on and let me ax the doctor." (That is an actual quote.)

She came back a few minutes later and asked if Abbie could breathe through her nose. I told her she could breathe through one side, but the other was stuffed up. She remarked, "Well, that's a 50-50 chance of living."

Oh.

Well, how about next week?

So next week it is, and Abbie is determined to be breathing fully and completely by then.

In the meantime, we made some calls and found a driver's ed school to come get her for her behind-the-wheel training. We arranged for Pete (not the dog, the driving instructor) to come get her this morning at 10 am. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that, months ago, I made a dentist appointment for Abbie to have her regular cleaning. They called Monday to confirm and we promptly forgot about it.

So last night while we were in the kitchen waiting for potatoes to roast, I remembered the conflict of schedules this morning and was weeping and wailing. No gnashing of teeth - it's just not THAT big a deal. I thought we should cancel the driver's ed guy. Abbie wanted to cancel the dentist appointment (imagine that!). She exclaimed, "Mom! I NEED to get my license! I don't NEED. . ."

Mike, piping up from the porch, "TEETH!"

"Yeah!" Abbie chimes in.

I'm definitely outvoted here, so she'll be driving in the rain this morning. With unclean teeth.

Be thankful ~

Karen

The Daily Drivel.

It has finally stopped raining here. Ben went out on the deck and looked down at the sinkhole which is right next to one of the main support posts. He pondered for a few minutes. Then he jumped. Gingerly, at first, then a little harder. That side of the deck is definitely moving. He's back to pondering. It's cheaper.

My brother, the biologist, says those little poofy things in the tree are galls, produced by some kind of insect activity. They're common in white oaks, less common in red oaks. This oak looks pretty green to me, so I don't know where that leaves me. Get it? Leaves me?

Ahem.

Abbie is supposed to have her wisdom teeth out today, but since she has a cold, I'm not sure they'll do it. I'm going to call the office and ask. She really hopes they'll just do the surgery and get it over with. Me too.

*Edited* No wisdom teeth surgery today. Something about being able to breathe. Honestly.

So that's all. Have a great day!

Be thankful ~

Karen

Botany help needed.

Abbie took these pictures of the three little poofy balls way up high in an oak tree in our back yard. They are the only ones in the entire forest behind our house. Does anyone have any idea what they are?



Be thankful ~

Karen

Everything but the kitchen sinkhole.

In no particular order, the news of the day. Such as it is.

1. Bluebirds are building a nest in the bluebird box out front. Try to contain your excitement. That's significant because in the three years we've been here, we've only had one pair take up residence in one of our boxes (we have two). Last year I spent several weeks watching a pair of birds make a nest in the box out front, incubate and hatch the eggs, feed the babies and fledge them. At the very end, one of my kids informed me they were not bluebirds but titmice. I felt ripped off. And blind. And squirrels ate through half of the backyard box so the bluebirds won't use it. As if I don't have enough of my OWN home repairs.

2. We are going to the wedding of a girl in our Sunday School class today. Yesterday I went to the church to pick Abbie up and snuck a peek in the gym, where the reception will be held. It's amazing what you can do with linen! The tables AND chairs are all covered with white linen, with big red bows around the backs of the chairs. I'll try to get a picture of it today. It will be lovely, I'm sure.

3. We live near King's Dominion in Virginia. Mike's crew is constructing the outbuildings around the new roller coaster, The Dominator. For some reason, he's excited about that. Maybe he'll get the first ride?

4. I'm having a bad hair week. I don't know why I felt the need to share that bit of information, but there it is. Do with it what you will.

5. We have a rather large sinkhole in the backyard (you knew I'd get around to sinkholes, didn't you?), right next to the deck. It's about 3 feet in diameter, and a foot deep so far. I wonder if it's related to all the rain we've had this year. I hope it doesn't suddenly give way, because it would take the deck with it, sort of like this house in Maryland, where the backyard suddenly sunk 10 feet. It's the suddenly part that makes me nervous. I'll refrain from telling you it gives me a sinking feeling.

So that's that. It's not much but at least there are no disasters this week.

Be thankful ~

Karen

A rose by any other name. . .

Abbie works in the daycare at our church. The other day she was talking to a three-year-old girl named Destiny. Here's the gist of their conversation:

Destiny: Miss Abbie, do you have a mama?

Ab: Yep.

D: What's her name?

A: Karen.

D: What's your little brother's name?

A: Elijah.

D: What's your sister's name?

A: Leah and Deborah.

D: What's your daddy's name?

A: Alfred.

D: (eyes wide) NUH-UHH!!!


Ben, himself, says, "If you had a name like Alfred, you'd go by Ben too." I guess I would.

Be thankful ~

Karen

But Mom, it followed me home!

I don't have dreams on a regular basis, at least not ones I can remember. But this morning I woke up with one fresh in my mind. Actually, I think I was aware that I was dreaming while I was still having the dream. And I actually thought in my dream, "I'll have to remember this so I can put it on the blog." Someone help me.

The dream. But first a little background.

A year and a half ago, Ben came home from a meeting at a nearby military base saying that one of the guys in the meeting had a bulldog. I stopped what I was doing to listen warily, because Ben has always loved bulldogs. He went on to say that said bulldog had just had puppies. My shoulders dropped. This was getting dangerous. Then he added that one of the puppies just happened to be brindle. I hung my head, knowing all hope was lost. He has always wanted a brindle bulldog.

They were free. It was over.

The kids were immediately onboard with assurances of , "We'll take care of it! We'll train it! We'll clean up its messes." Oh, fool that I am.

So that Friday we headed over to pick up Pete the Terrible. He was the chewing-est, messing-est, get-in-the-trashing-est dog I've ever seen. It took me three months to housebreak him. He still gets in the trash. He's big. He sheds. But now that I've worked on him for a year and a half, he's tolerable. Sometimes.

And because he's done it exactly ONE time, Ben now has a reputation for bringing animals home. Because I am reasonable like that.

Now the dream.

The scene opens with me sitting on the floor in front of the baby gate which we put across the laundry room door to keep the animal in there while we're out. Only there wasn't a dog in it.

There was a mother tiger and five tiger cubs. Ben had brought them home for me to, um, whatever you do with tigers. I couldn't go in the laundry room to get food (that's where the pantry is) because I was afraid of the mother. My family was going hungry and wearing dirty clothes. I spent a lot of time throwing raw meat over the gate in my effort to keep mama happy. I could take the cubs out to feed them, but usually when I would take one out, the others would sneak out too, so I had a houseful of tiger cubs tearing the place to shreds, while I spent every minute pacifying mama. I woke up when a cub peed on my foot.

So there. Analyze THAT.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Teenage philosophizing.

Once in a while Elijah, the man-boy, waxes philosophic. Here he is waxing with Pete:

Today we made our every-six-weeks trip to southern Virginia for a visit to the orthodontist. We leave in the morning, have our appointment around noon, get some lunch and drive home. We do this because we love our orthodontist, and because he promised when he did the first kid (we used to live there) that he would do the fifth one for free. Yes, you read that right. He has actually done the last two for half price, but that's the same in my (check)book, so we make the drive.

Elijah and I ate lunch at Taco Bell today and, after consuming a hard taco, a bean burrito, a bacon/chicken/cheese chalupa, cinnamon crunchy thingies and a large Pepsi, Elijah collapsed on the front seat of the car (while holding his Nachos Bell Grande for the ride home) and exclaimed, "Man! Eating makes me tired!"

Pause.

"And sleeping makes me hungry. Ahhh, life is good."

The perpetual cycle of the teenage man-boy.

Be thankful ~

Karen

My resume - an old post revisited.

I was talking to my mom on the phone the other day, and somehow we got into a conversation about where Ben and I might live after our children are grown and gone. I mentioned that Ben has said he would love to live in a university town as there's so much to do, and he loves going to school. So she said, "With all your credentials, they would scarf you right up (meaning for a job)."
So I've been wondering, what credentials? I have a degree in finance that I've never spent a day actually using. I've home schooled five children from birth to high school graduation and beyond. Those that have wanted to so far have been accepted into the colleges of their choice, and before they would have been had they been in public school. They are successful in their college careers, and one recently graduated.

That got me thinking, how would I put all this on a resume? And that reminded me of the verse that says, "Ye are our epistle, written on our hearts, known and read of all men." Our children are open books that list, for all to see, our failures and successes. Now think about it for a minute - don't you often judge people by their children? That's even scriptural - "A foolish son bringeth his mother to shame." What a weighty matter this is - that we are now, and will be in the future, judged by others based on how our children turn out.

So what did you write on the pages of your children today? Would you be glad for someone to read it? I don't know about you, but that motivates me. Certainly I'd like to have good credentials, but when I hand my resume (my children) to God Almighty, I want to hear Him say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."

Be thankful ~

Karen

The Mama Song

Oh. My. Goodness.

I have spent over three hours today trying to figure out how to post an audio file on this blog. And I'm telling you, I need serious help. I was lost. Completely overwhelmed. I had to call in the pros.

I asked a teenager.

He explained that I probably needed to convert the type of file it was, and that I could download a free audio file converter and it would be a snap.

Clearly, he has never seen me at work.

Three hours later, I think I've done it right, but the best I can do is share a link that you'll have to click on. My sincerest apologies. But if I promise it will be worth it, will you click?

It will be worth it. I promise.

My kids wrote this song four years ago for me. Get the tissues handy.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Wordless Saturday.

I realize that's not as catchy a title as "Wordless Wednesday," but this is Saturday and the post will be, for the most part, wordless.

The man-boy turned 15 yesterday. This is the child who was born almost 10 pounds, never wanted to be rocked, and whose hair stuck straight up no matter what we did to it. He cleaned up pretty nicely.



Happy Birthday, Lije.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Pedanticizing, once again.

The funniest thing just happened.

Actually, it may not be funny to those of you who get 200+ comments a day, but it cracked me up.

Someone left a comment on a rant I posted months ago by doing a Google search for the word "pedantist." Now, if I were ever going to be famous for one thing, I guess it would be for being a grammar pedantist, and that's not so bad, really. Although he said he tried to look up the word in the dictionary and it wasn't there, so I guess it's not really a word.

So then I just had to go look it up myself, because, after all, I AM a pedantist. And do you know what I found? The word is pedant. It is defined as "one who overemphasizes rules or minor details." And since that so totally and accurately describes me, I thought I would share my newfound minor detail with you. And furthermore, while others may call it overemphasizing, I do not. I firmly believe in the preservation of the English language, even though it's already been butchered beyond comprehension by Americans. But I try. Because I'm a pedant. And yes, I realize those are not the most well-constructed sentences, but artistic license does have its place.

Be thankful~

Karen

The blind leading the blind.

Our church has recently finished (sort of) a new auditorium that almost doubles our seating space. We've been eagerly awaiting the day when we could actually move into it and have our services there. Well, that day has arrived and we will celebrate our first Sunday in it this weekend. So last night during the Wednesday night service, we enjoyed a time of testimonies and stories about when people first came to FBC. Testimonies are always great, but the stories were funny. I'll share what few I remember.

Joanna A. said that when her family first came to FBC, she was so impressed with the pastor's ability to memorize large quantities of scripture. In the first few weeks he quoted most of Leviticus - not the easiest book to memorize. Then she found out he was blind, reading Braille.

Then there was Bill W. who remembered the first time he came to FBC, and sat right in the middle of the 600-person auditorium. He said he was really creeped out because the pastor stared straight at him during the entire sermon. He thought the pastor somehow knew how bad a sinner he was. That blind-preacher thing again.

The pastor had a few stories to share, too. He remembered one kindergarten graduation when the teacher had very carefully arranged all the rolled-up diplomas in alphabetical order (they weren't marked on the outside) on a table on the platform. As he was taking his usual seat, he completely knocked the table over, scattering diplomas everywhere. The teacher just handed them out in random order and said they would sort it all out the next day.

It used to be customary for the pastor to sit on the platform while someone else was preaching. One time they had a visiting missionary speaking who was terribly boring, and the pastor just couldn't stay awake. Of course, the whole church sat and watched him bobbing his head and jerking himself awake. Not long after that, he changed his place to the front row, so at least he wasn't on public display anymore.

Our pastor has a portable Braille computer that he wears slung over one shoulder. It contains the Bible, the hymnal, and probably a lot of other stuff. He keeps it on until he gets up to preach, when he uses his notes typed on a Braille machine and put in a 3-ring binder. But when we first went there, we didn't know what it was, and neither did a visiting preacher, who referred to it as his "lunchbox."

And Russell's big sister told about how he used to snore during the preaching, especially during the quiet pauses. Russell really appreciated being hung out to dry like that.

Our pastor came here fresh out of Bible college 29 years ago and started Faith Baptist Church. This week we will move into our 1000+ seat auditorium, the third one in the church's history, and the church just keeps growing. He has incredible vision for a blind man. For any man, really.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Where not to get your fashion advice.

I just read a post at BigMama's about how her daughter, Caroline, dresses herself in outfits that may or may not be within the standard rules of fashion. That reminded me of when my own girls were little.

They wore the most outlandish things, and combinations of things. We have a picture of Abbie climbing a tree wearing cut-off jeans, a white and orange flowered shirt, red socks and black Mary Janes. Missing her two front teeth, of course. Deb went through a phase where she would only wear skirts and, because it was cold in the winter, she wore several. At one time. She was going for the layered look.

One time we went for a drive to have a picnic on a nice day in the fall and Deb had on her customary three skirts. She had the dog on her lap and Spanky chose that day to suffer from car-sickness. Ben pulled over quickly and wondered aloud what we were going to put on Deb, since the dog had just barfed on her skirt. "That's ok, Daddy," was her cheerful reply as she began peeling off the top layer. "I have two more skirts on."

When Abbie was six, she was skipping across the yard with Leah and tripped over a blade of grass. Because she's graceful like that. She landed on top of her right arm and broke both bones in several places. At the hospital she was lying on the stretcher in the ER and I asked the nurse how they were going to get her dress off before surgery. I suggested they just cut it off, as it was covered in blood anyway. Abbie perked right up and begged, "Noooo! Don't cut my favorite dress!" This from the girl with bones sticking out every which-way, blood all over the front of her, face gray from being in shock. She's always been fashion-conscious.

Still is.
Be thankful ~

Karen

Money and reality are mutually exclusive.

College graduates are rich. Seriously. Everyone gives you money. Mike and Elijah were looking at some fancy sports car online yesterday and Mike said it sold for over $100,000. I figured if he just graduated a few more times, he could afford it. That's sort of an overstatement, but you get the idea.

So today we were out doing some errands and Mike was going to get a chiropractic adjustment. He handed me his checkbook to put in my purse, but asked me to please not mix it up with mine. His reason? "I'm pretty sure I have a lot more money than you, Mom."

No argument there, Ace - I just got done paying for 5 1/2 years of college tuition. Plus your two sisters who are still going.

But Mike is getting a healthy reality slap in the face. His car needed two new ball joints, bushings on the control arm, and an alignment. HE'S paying.

Sometime in the next few days he will begin his internship with Virginia's Lieutenant Governor, Bill Bolling. He's very excited about it, but he'll be happier when that's done and he can get a paying job.

Elijah is having job-issues too, but that's a different story. The doctor up the street has decided he only wants his grass cut twice a month. This decision came after he had Elijah spread lime and fertilizer. I'm shaking my head at the lack of logic here.

Girls are so easy. They get a summer job at the day camp and everybody's happy. Guys need machines. And tools. And cars. And GAS - oh my, the gas. Maybe it's better that he's only cutting the doctor's grass twice a month. . .

Be thankful ~

Karen

Graduation Day

For your perusing pleasure, a pictorial essay of the big day at James Madison University. But first, a funny told by my brother Jim on graduation day:

Q: How do you get a recent college graduate off your porch?

A: Pay him for the pizza.


I don't know why I took this picture. I just loved the bike. The owner still has some learning to do.

When we first arrived, the stadium was almost empty. Faculty and graduates will sit in the chairs on the field:
Beginning of the processional. It took 30 minutes to get them all in the stadium - over 4000 graduates:
And here they are:
Graduation speeches can sometimes be on the boring side. This one was no exception:


You can believe that piece of rolled up paper is not his diploma. But what is it? An advertisement for the guy standing to the right (off camera) taking pictures.
Yes, he is our natural-born son. He really is that tall.
Abbie's favorite shot of the day:As you can see the weather was absolutely perfect. All that stress for nothing. And now reality sets in and the poor boy must go to work.

One down, three to go.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Ye have not because ye ask not.

To use one of Ben's phrases, "My stress meter is pegging."

I'm having one of those weeks where, the farther into it I go, the longer my to-do list gets, and the less time I have to get it all accomplished. The big thing for the week is Mike's graduation from James Madison University on Saturday. Now you know my family's reputation for events that are held outside, right? It rains. Well, all week we've been checking the weather forecast and it has said thunderstorms for Saturday. 80% chance. It figures. And somehow, in my twisted, everything-is-my-fault universe, I should be able to do something about it. The day would be ruined and everyone would be miserable, and it would be my fault for inviting them. Somebody psychoanalyze me.

So last night Ben could tell I was stressing and we sat down to talk about it. He asked if I thought God couldn't handle the weather (which He obviously can), and said he would pray about it with me. He tried to encourage me that yes, God COULD take care of this for us if we would just pray and ASK. Then he got excited and said, "And you could BLOG about it! Wouldn't that be a great blog??!"

We went to bed. I prayed before I fell asleep. Ben did too.

This morning? The forecast for Saturday has been changed to cloudy.

So I am here to officially give all the glory to the Lord. Good job, God.

Be thankful ~

Karen