The big zero-seven

Blanket is 7 months old now.  Coming in at just under 17 lbs  he still wears size 2 diapers and 3-6 month clothes.  He jabbers.  He eats cereal and mashed bananas.  He refuses to roll around to explore.  He likes his brother.  He likes his brother's toys.  He likes mom and dad.  He picks up older women with just a smile.  He likes chillin' at the pool.

Supreme Court Decision-Opinion

It is the Supreme Court's decision to uphold the lower court's decision that the gun ban in Washington D.C. is unconstitutional.  No surprise.  What really gets me is that it was a 5-4 decision. 

Washington D.C. law would not allow the sale, purchase, or possession of a handgun by law-abiding citizens within its city limits.  Also, all long guns (rifles, shotguns) had to be rendered inoperable.

So, under the statute only criminals would be carrying guns as they have no desire to be law-abiding citizens.  Great.  Armed criminals.  No armed citizens.  That's a place I want to be. 

Anybody else ever wonder why the murder rate was so high in D.C.?  Well, now  you know.  

Also, if you owned a gun and were traveling with it in your car through D.C. and a cop pulled you over he could arrest you for illegal possession of a handgun, or rifle (if not disassembled or fitted with a trigger lock) even if you were only driving through on the freeway and had no plans to stop, or take your firearm out of the car.    Anybody else feel your right to bear arms infringed yet?

Amendment Two

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

That's right INFRINGED, not removed, not abolished, not made a mockery of, INFRINGED.   

When the Founding Fathers wrote the Constitution and Amendments they knew that a government that takes away people's weapons takes away their power to overthrow corrupt government.  Ever wonder why the Cubans never ousted Fidel?  He has an army, and the army has guns; the Cubans don't have guns.  

I'm all for making weapons harder for felons to get, and for reasonable regulation of machine guns.  (I pay a small tax and I get to own one).   But I am discouraged that 4 Supreme Court justices thought that the D.C. law was constitutional under the second amendment.   I thought it was a no-brainer.  Maybe it is and those 4 justices who voted down party lines gave their brains away when they joined the Socialist (Democratic) party.   

At least this decision has opened the door to challenging other gun bans like Chicago's and San Francisco's.  Those (and others) were filed soon after this decision was released.  Hopefully, law-abiding citizens will soon have their rights returned to them.

On another note, I am reading The Real America by Glenn Beck (see my Shelfari widget) and loving it.  I don't disagree with him on any point in the book.  I think my favorite part in the book so far is the list of communist agenda for 1963.   The Dems (and most of the Republicans) in Washington have done a great job of making this into a communist state.  Don't believe me?  Read the book!  No, I am not getting paid for plugging the book, but I would be willing to take money or other compensation for doing so.

The Power of a Suction Cup

That's right, power, not strength.  Last night I was surfing the internet because the boys were in bed.  I had used up all my happy mommy earlier in the day.  Tiger has a cold and thus is whiny significantly more than normal (I barely have patience for normal whiny).  Blanket is getting the same cold.  Tiger whined all the way through bath time, and during dinner he whined for my food, not what I gave to him.  B.A.R. is on a business trip,  and while he isn't the most involved dad, just having someone else to help at all is a great thing at the end of the day.

So while I am surfing, I hear a CRASH!! It sounded like it came from upstairs, like a curtain rod gave out.  While I was searching for the sound Blanket woke up and started screaming and screaming.  I was hoping he was going to put himself back to sleep.  I looked in the boys' rooms for the mess, nothing.  I looked in our closets, shower, nothing.  I looked in the basement, garage, nothing.  I even took  the spotlight outside and looked to see if a tree had crashed through my roof, nothing. 

I was sure that I wasn't the only one who heard it, because Blanket was going like mad in his crib.  I got him up and cuddled him.  I put him back down almost asleep.  He continued his previous protesting for another HOUR.  I was sure he was going to give up, but he had other plans.  I decided that there was no way I was going to be able to sleep unless I gave in and put Blanket to bed with me.  

Right before I went to get him out of bed, I thought to check the boys' bathroom.  The towel rod was still in place, but the bag of toys in the tub had fallen.  The suction cups gave way and all the toys went clattering into the tub.   All this crying and waking and being mad (civil mommy left a while ago) over a suction cup!

So I take Blanket to bed (at 7 months he wiggles too much for my liking) and basically wait for him to get really asleep before I creep away from him so that I too, can sleep.  He wakes at 4 and wants to eat for 30 minutes, I must have fallen asleep soon after that, because I was still holding him when Tiger came in at 6:45 and woke us up.  I could have slept for another 2 hours, I think Blanket could have too.

Ah, the power of a simple suction cup to ruin my night!

How to spend a Saturday

Friday night, after the kids went to bed.  I moved all the toys and the coffee table out of the living room.  I laid out my batting and my backing.  I got out my 505 spray adhesive and basted them the easy way!  Then I went to baste my top on, and I was out of spray.  It's now too late to go get any more, so my quilt sat there until Saturday at 9:30 when High Prairie Quilts opened so that I could go get some more. 

Meanwhile Tiger is not avoiding the quilt, he is running over it and driving his dump truck over it and driving me insane!  Finally, it is basted!  I folded it up so that I could do other things for a while.  I cleaned the house a bit, I went grocery shopping with the kids, and during nap time I QUILTED!!! 

I finally got to use my sewing machine to quilt (which was what I really wanted it for).  I got a lot of quilting done.  I got frustrated because most of the fabrics are dark and my marking pencil just didn't show up.  I need to know if someone has information on a light (white) air erasable or wash-away marking pen.  Or if someone knows the best way to draw stencils on dark fabrics.

We went for a walk in the afternoon  to relive some of my quilting frustrations.  B.A.R. and I got to talk about things that never seem to get addressed at home.  Tiger got tired at the end, so we put him in the basket of the stroller, and he rode the rest of the way in the stroller.

I quilted after the kids went to bed and had a few ideas on how to make my stencil problem work.   I must confess my quilt won't be show quality, but how about finishing your first quilt and being proud of that!

Keeping it Real

Thanx to The Wealth of Home for giving me something fun to do on a Thursday afternoon.

The rules are: take the picture--no fussing, no fixing it up--just a snapshot of your life, today, as is.

1. Kitchen Sink.  This is actually really good.  Usually the whole dishwasher load is waiting in the sink before it gets loaded.

2. Inside of the refrigerator.
3. Your shoes.  These are the ones I had on, and probably my favorite ones too.
4.  Your closet.

5. Your laundry pile. 

a.  The clean clothes on the washer

b. The slipcovers for the couch (for their annual cleaning).
c. Hamper in our room.
d. Consolidated boys' laundry 
e and f. The two baskets of clothes I just finished putting away before I read the blog to take these pictures.

6.  What your kids are doing.

a. Blanket is sleeping.  (Actually I took this photo at the end because he was fussing himself to sleep while I was taking the household photos)

b. Tiger is in the sandbox (I took this one last because I knew he would want my attention once he saw me).  What happened after this photo is a whole other post unto itself.
7. Your favorite room.  My bedroom because it is the only one we have spent any money decorating.  All the rest don't match at all!  Though I miss our bedroom in our MI house because we painted the walls RED.
I must confess, I made the bed and stashed a couple of things under the bed (you can see them creeping back out).  It's my favorite room when it is clean!
8. Your toilet.  Mr. Popularity--it's downstairs so it gets used all the time.
9.  Fantasy Vacation.  Hawaii.  I've been to lots of places in Europe, but I am a sucker for tourist traps.  Besides, who wouldn't want to visit Paradise.
10.  Self portrait.  Sorry, didn't work as well as I wanted, but I was hurrying to get all the photos taken. 
Feel free to be tagged.  This was really kind of fun!

What to do on a Wednesday afternoon.

I last time I really worked on my quilt was when I did the coffee bit.  I have been meaning to move my living room into my dining room so that I can have space to baste it, but alas that is more work than I wanted to do.  I still needed to make stencils for the quilting, so that is what I did yesterday.  

The one is the Browning Buckmark, and the other is some interlocking waves that I drew up.  I got the idea from this book I got the other day Mindful Meandering.

I did this between the pool and Target, and then after dinner before enrichment yesterday.  I would recommend that you do this with an X-acto knife with a round, pencil-sized handle. I did it with a folding drywall knife/box cutter because that's all we had.  My finger hurt all night.

Maybe I will move the furniture today.  Oh, wait.  I want to go to the museum this morning, and I need to clean the house because B.A.R. is coming home today from his trip and I like the house to be in some sort of order when he gets here. 

Train Wreck

So I should be going to bed, but I can't.  I have been needing to write this post since I lived in Michigan.  Which was a long time ago, if you didn't know.  

Somebody asked me why I got pregnant the first time if I knew (in the back of my mind I knew) that there was something wrong.  I was bothered by this person's insensitivity, but I didn't have anything to say then.  I have something to say now.

The answer is. . . You don't get on a wrecking train.  You get on the train and then it wrecks. You couldn't have known in advance it was going to wreck, and you couldn't have stopped the carnage.  It just is.  It's a train wreck.  And it's just as horrible.

The strange part is after the wreck the emotion you feel most acutely isn't sorrow or loss, it is loneliness.  You feel horribly, horribly alone.  I didn't have a way to tell someone how it feels.  It is this emotion that you can't quite put your finger on.  You know you have felt this way before, but it hurts so bad you forgot the circumstances, and failed to remember the name for this emotion.  Then I read it in a book: it feels like you got kicked out of the club.  It does.  That's EXACTLY how it feels.

I imagine it like this: getting married is like going to college.  Now that you're at college  you want to join a sorority.  You want to join that sorority with all the cute little mommies and all the cute little kids.  You want to join that madhouse, so willingly  (or not, in some cases) you pledge to get into the sorority.  You do all the required stuff: all the doctor's visits, all the books, the healthy eating, the vitamins, the puking at 3 am, the pain.  You do it all, because you know that at the end of it all you will be in!  You will have survived.  There you are: poised to enter your sorority and the leader comes out and tells you (in front of the whole sorority, all the pledges, and EVERYONE ELSE IN THE TRI-STATE AREA) that you are no longer even a pledge for this sorority.  Good-Bye!

You feel empty and abandoned and unwanted.   You slowly step backwards away from this place you were so sure you wanted to be a part of.  You know you just got kicked out.  You think you might someday want to come back here, but you don't know if you will ever be able.  You stagger backwards and without realizing it find yourself across the street on the doorstep of another sorority.  Their door is open.  Their door is always open.  

When you turn around you realize that someone you know is standing in the doorway.  For everyone that someone is different, and I have stood there more than once to welcome someone to the group.  

Once you come inside you find that you know many people there.  The longer you stay, the more people you meet, that you already know.  Everyone is waiting with open arms to welcome you.  See, we all got here the same way: rejected by the other sorority.  We all know about loss, we all know what it feels like to have your life changed in an instant.  We all know about what ifs and coulds and woulds and shoulds.  We all came unwillingly, and almost unwittingly.  And though most of us have successfully pledged at the sorority across the street, it is our sisterhood here that we cherish more.  This doesn't mean that the sorority of moms across the way is less, but just maybe they are missing out on the best sisterhood of all, the one that binds mothers who've lost children together no matter who they are.

So, go ahead, get on that train.  Just know that if it wrecks, I will be at the door to greet you with open arms.

Falling Head First.

This morning we went to the pool! It was fun except Tiger is afraid of the pool, sort of.  He didn't want to get in.  He just wanted to sit on the chair and watch.  I took Blanket out of the stroller and away from his nap so that I could play with him in the pool.  He was fine until I took him out of his tube for a minute.  Then he only wanted to be held.  I knew that skipping the nap was now a mistake.

I took Tiger to the bathroom and then we wandered over to where our neighbor was sitting with her kids.  I wanted to ask her where she got the swim vest for her son.  Tiger cannot swim, and I can't hold on to both of them in the pool at the same time.  She told me she got it at Target and I figured we could go there later.

I did attempt to play in the pool again and Tiger started to do some splashing and stuff, but Blanket was going nuts because of the lack of sleep so we just decided to go home earlier than I had planned.

Later came and we went to Target.  While I was looking through the totally trashed display of life vests Tiger says he NEEDS to go potty.  Blanket is being a little fussy (nap time again).  I tear off in the direction of the bathroom.  Tiger is in the basket of the cart dancing around.  I didn't notice that he was sort of leaning out while dancing and so when I started to turn he wobbled.  Quickly, I stopped the cart.  I was hoping that he would catch his balance, but no, he fell, head first out of the shopping cart.

It was a little surreal.  I saw him heading down in this dive (think "rocket man") and the next thing he is on the floor on his back.  I couldn't tell if he hit his head, or what, but I got him back up so fast he didn't start crying until I was holding him.  And the crying seemed much more like scared crying.  Match that with the lack of impact marks and I don't know what to say.  We went to shoes and sat down for a minute (until the crying stopped) and then proceeded to the potty.

On the way out of the bathroom I was trying to negotiate the cart out of the auto-closing door and the door pushed the cart and Tiger's finger against the door frame.  More crying.  More screaming.  Add tired Blanket to this and I got a whole bunch of people shooting me dirty looks like I am some bad parent.

Eventually, we did go back and determine that they didn't have what we were looking for. 

On the way back through the store and back to the car, Tiger kept standing up and wiggling.  I kept thinking he was going to fall out.  While I was putting Blanket in the car, Tiger said, "Out.  Get out of the cart."  I look over to see him with one leg half  over the edge and a determination to finish what he started.  I loudly encouraged him to find his way back down.  

I decided that a trip across the street to Sports Authority would be worth it to see if I could find this swim vest.  I did find it fairly easily.  They were having a sale on other swimwear and so I wanted to look around for a minute.  I must have warned Tiger six or seven times about falling out of the cart again!  Then, in the parking lot, I saw him trying to bail AGAIN!  

I guess he wasn't hurt badly enough the first time.  Maybe he decided that the pain was tolerable.  Maybe he wants his life to flash before my eyes over and over.  Glenn Beck was right.  Once they learn to walk you're on suicide watch for 5 years or so.

Two new for the Terrific Tiger

At the zoo this morning Tiger was in a moving crowd of 9 or 10 year-olds and he kept looking at their feet and saying, "'Scuse me, 'scuse me, 'scuse me."  That's the first time he has even attempted to say "excuse me."

While we were playing outside this afternoon Tiger successfully blew his first bubble.  He loves to play bubbles outside and he has always tried to blow them to no avail.  Today one even flew away from him after he blew it.  He was so happy he tried to blow them for 5 more minutes, but didn't have any more success.

SMUT

I was driving back from the zoo a couple of weeks ago and had to stop at the light by Shotgun Willie's.  For those of you unfamiliar with this establishment, the sign reads, "SHOW CLUB" and the building has no windows.  I was looking at the building and contemplating why it had a covered "loading zone" area.  I happened to notice on the concrete foundation for the aerial sign someone had scrawled, "SMUT" in runny black Krylon.

There's nothing like calling a spade a spade.  When I drove by today I saw someone else had painted over the graffiti.   

If all the distractions in life were so clearly marked, maybe we could stay away more easily.  I know that as we try to leave indications for those who come after of the dangers that lurk, Satan is there obscuring our best and most feeble attempts to warn others.

I appreciate this (not so) free (anymore) country I live in.  I  know that to be free we must have the right to choose SMUT.  I also have the right to warn others (maybe just not in Krylon).  

Anybody got a SHARPIE?

For a satirical look at SMUT (and free speech in general) check out Tom Lehrer's song Smut, but not at iTunes because it's not there.

The worst possible thing

This post is actually about good things. I am ashamed to say that often in my life I avoided doing things and taking risks or taking initiative of any kind out of fear. Usually I didn't even understand what I was afraid of. I just avoided the situation to avoid the fear (of whatever). A few years after we were married I found that DH was the same way sometimes.

I think it started to change when we discovered we were usually afraid to ask for something (like negotiate a price) out of fear of rejection; and we asked ourselves, "what is the worst thing that could happen?. . . They could say no." and as long as we were comfortable with that then we were willing to take the risk.

I am now much more connected with my impulse to avoid or run due to fear. We usually ask ourselves, "what's the worst thing that could happen?" and then we make a decision based on the consequences we can live with.

For example, this last weekend we started working on a sandbox for Tiger (See the post about Dirt). We have been talking about it for a couple of years and decided to do it on Saturday at 4:00 when it was 90 degrees. We bought 5 bags of sand and decided we needed more, a lot more. "Should we buy 25 more, 10 more, or what?" "If we buy them only 5 at a time the worst thing that could happen is that we end up with 4 more than we need." That seemed like the right number.

We make most of our decisions this way. It doesn't always mean that when the worst imaginable consequence is really bad we don't do it, it does mean though that we are prepared for disaster before it arrives. I wish we had this system in place the first time I got pregnant, but the outcome of that is part of what drove us to adopt this system.

We enjoy life with a positive perspective. We make ourselves aware of the minefields around us. When we muster the courage, we go forth prepared for (almost) anything. After all, what's the worst thing that could happen?

Seeing yourself in your kids

I know we have all had the experience of seeing your kids do something that reminds you of yourself.  I know it is usually when they bring out our worst qualities that we notice, and wish we could change.   Tiger is smart like me and it is to his detriment sometimes.  Blanket is bringing out the ghosts of my past.

While I was growing up, I was always told that I hated baby food and sneezed or spit it on the person feeding me.  I struggled to eat enough and didn't grow very much.  I wasn't motivated to grow or learn to move. (I did spend time mastering my slave).

So now, while I spend time scraping rice cereal off my face, and 20 minutes hoping to get Blanket to swallow any amount of cereal  I am reminded of all those stories about me as a kid.  While I was just worried about his slow growth I realized he was turning into me, albeit with a much higher birthweight.  All the things my caregivers hated about me,  are about to find their way into my life.  Its like overcoming myself a whole generation later.  fun.

Going Somewhere or not

See Mr. Blanket is a growing baby.  He loves exploring anything he can get his hands on.  He just doesn't work very hard at putting stuff within his reach.  

He gained a whole pound in the last two months.  Now he is 16 lbs, twice his birth weight.  By this age Tiger was 18 lbs and well into 6-9 month clothes.  He loved to eat cereal and other veges and fruits.  His taste for rabbit food died rapidly though.   Blanket likes to nurse.  He won't take a bottle unless it is mommy temp and not from me.  He doesn't like cereal unless it is mommy temp and even then it is a 20 min battle to get him to eat 2 tbsp. of it.  

Yesterday Blanket decided to roll over.  I blogged about him rolling from  belly to back, but yesterday he actually got from his back to his stomach, once.  He was laying there looking around for 5 minutes, and then cried for me to roll him back over.  Now, don't get me wrong a stationary baby who is 6 months old is probably a boon, but it isn't always fun when he demands you hand him the toys he can't reach.  I would almost prefer he got into things.  Safely made messes are easy to clean up and take more time to make than clean up.  Instead he cries when he drops his toys or gets bored in his bouncy chair.

At this age Tiger was rolling to get where he wanted to go, and learning to crawl. He spent his days mastering his muscles.  Blanket spends his days mastering his slaves.

You know you're a mom when. . .

• The prospect of sharing a bowl of guacamole with your 2 year-old sounds like a GOOD and FUN idea.
• You find yourself putting your toddler's shoes on WHILE you go to the bathroom to save time.
• A trip to the zoo with a 2 year-old and a baby is an activity you actually look forward to.
• You throw broken toys away while your kids are asleep so that you don't have to deal with the meltdown.
• You eat whatever your kids are eating for lunch so they don't whine for the reruns that you are having (even though they won't eat them if you serve it to them).
• Unless the cut needs gluing (the modern alternative to stitches) the boy is just fine.
• You get excited when your son decides to pee standing up
• You know where every bathroom is at every place you stop because your kid has used them all!
• You are happy when your son decides to go play trucks downstairs instead of insisting that you get up and play with him. (Although he always chooses trucks with sirens and sound to play with in the morning).
• Your mantra changes daily. "Keep walking!" "Stand up!"  "Get back here!" "Eat!" "Say Sorry."  "Share."
• You avoid walking by nursery after church until Dad has picked up the kid so that you don't have to try and juggle a baby and a toddler in the crowds, or listen to him scream because you didn't come and get him.
• You think there is no good time for church.

That not so sweet smell

I must confess, I am very  happy with my dye job.  I must also confess, I hate the way my vacuum smells.  I love to vacuum with my Sebo.  I love using my vacuum so much that I often vacuum more than once a week (that's a lot for someone who hates to, and avoids cleaning the house).  I have all those coffee grounds in the  bag now, and when I vacuum the room I am working in begins to smell like coffee.  I would love to just change the bag out, but the bags aren't exactly cheap.  Maybe I should just make a bunch more messes so that I have to vacuum the bag full this week.   The disappointing thing is, I made bread this morning and now my house smells like coffee instead.

Coffee Talk

So I didn't want to spend 80 bucks on backing fabric for my quilt.  At my sewing class the other day we were talking about inexpensive ways to get backing fabric.  I decided to buy a single piece of muslin and dye it using . . . coffee.  Now coffee is in my top 5 most vile smells.  I can't stand it.  I learned to ignore it when others were drinking it as long as it was brewed in some other county.  I made 2 quarts of it for a practice batch.  

Of course, I must confess I have never made coffee before.  I just put two quarts of water in a pot and added a cup of coffee grounds. I boiled it for 20 min or so and then I added the muslin and let it sit for 3 hours or so.  The dyeing worked great.  There was only one problem.  It sat in my kitchen and made my whole house smell like coffee.  That vile, acidic smell that permeates everything had been damaging the air in my house all afternoon.  I dumped it around 5 o'clock so that it could do no more harm.  

The harm had already been done.  I had a headache of unimaginable proportion thanks to breathing coffee fumes all afternoon.  I am sure Tiger got dinner,  I think it was Tostidos and noodles.  I could barely focus by 7pm and so we all went to bed before 8.

Tuesday I was going to look for a metal tub to dye the fabric in, but then I thought it would be just as easy to dye it in a toy box (rubbermaid tote).  I took out the remaining toys and took it in the back yard.  I started cooking the remainder of a 5 lbs can of coffee in a pot.  I probably should have used a bigger pot because after I put the coffee in there wasn't much room for any water.   Nevertheless, I boiled it for about ten minutes and then added it to the fabric and water in the tub outside.  Now I had 9 square yards of fabric in 9 or 10 gallons of really strong coffee.   

I did go back and stir it every hour or so until dark.  I covered it (I didn't want stray dirt or leaves etc. to get in there).   I let it sit there all day Wednesday.  After 24 hours or so in the dye bath, I was satisfied with the color.  I was really going for anything darker than the unbleached muslin that I started with.  

I did make a couple of mistakes.  I put all the grounds in the pot with the fabric.  I think this is a great idea and makes the dye darker.  My mistake was not trapping them in some sort of bag.  They were all over my fabric, and in little sediment piles in the tub.   I thought the easiest way to get rid of them would be to wash them out in the washer.  You don't wash 4 lbs of coffee out in the washer.  It just doesn't work that way.  At least I used some vinegar in that batch to set the dye.  Now my laundry room smells like vinegar AND coffee (a very sarcastic smirk is appearing on my face).  I took the fabric out after a delicate load to find piles. . . no, heaps. . . no, mounds. . . no, volcanos of coffee surrounding all the holes in the bottom of my tub, and coffee all over every surface in the washer that gets wet during the load.  The coffee was mostly dry though, so I just spent 15 minutes vacuuming the coffee out of my washing machine. 

The fabric lost a few more granules in the dryer (I vacuumed for 3 minutes) and I hung it up for inspection.  There are little dots where the coffee got pressed through the fabric in the spin cycle, and there are still a million or so tiny little grains of coffee stuck all over the fabric.  At least those should wash off now that the rest of the coffee is safely in the vacuum.

So I washed it again on Thursday.  A delicate cycle and viola, spots gone and coffee dust off the fabric.  Then I put it in the dryer.  It sounded like a gravel truck was in the dryer too.  I opened and there was coffee everywhere.  I spent 20 more minutes vacuuming out the dryer, and the lint trap that was FULL of coffee granules.  I even used the shop vac for super suction to try to get them all.  There are still a very small number left on the fabric after drying it again. I should be able to remove those when I iron it.

I have a beautifully dyed piece of fabric, and a whole lot of experience on how to dye with coffee.  Then I went to enrichment book group on Thursday night. One of the sisters in our group owns a restaurant.  Next time I need coffee I just need to ask her a day in advance and I can have 5 lbs or so of grounds for free.

VT thoughts

Visiting teaching is one of those things I have a love/hate relationship with.  I don't always like doing it because often I get blown off by the people I visit; or I have a companion who is impossible to get a hold of (not currently the case); or I my Visiting Teachers never come.  I used to be VT coordinator (before Blanket was born) and really loved my calling.  Some of the greatest experiences and friendships have come because of VT.  I know it's a inspired program, but I am not always motivated to be my best at it.

That said, I was reading this post the other day from unretouched photo where she was talking about how her husband had been a pastor for 10 years at this church, and she didn't really have any friends there.  How sad.  How inspired the VT program is so that (with a little effort) we can all have friends who come to visit us, in our homes.  So that, after 10 years, we have friends at church.  Friends we can call on, friends we can visit, and friends we can share with.

Lack of Posts

Sorry, it has been a while since I posted something new.  This last Thursday I had 2 half-day classes for my new sewing machine.  I love my machine even more now. I have been designing a quilt for our room for a year and half.  I finally have a machine that can make it a reality.  Thus, I have been sewing like a mad woman every free moment that I have. 

Also, I was getting disappointed with the quality of my posts.  I write better posts when I spend time thinking about what I am going to write (like while a disaster is unfolding).  I want to write better, thus I need to spend more time thinking.  Please be patient while I upgrade the quality of my blog.

Oh, now back to the sewing machine!!

Sunday Funnies Dictionary

This is the first edition of the Sunday Funnies Dictionary.  This is an introduction to the words we use around here.  Think of it as a class in our family vernacular.

Reruns: Leftovers.  Leftovers makes it sound like you don't want them anymore.  Reruns are almost as good as when they were new (especially if you missed it the first time).  

Some Some: Dinner (the food, specifically). Tiger used to say "some!" when he wanted some of your food.  So we asked, "Do you want some some?"

Plug: Pacifier.

Boom Boom: Thunder.  From Mr. Brown Can Moo