Made Over 2

I am being made over in spirit rather than in clean shirts and hole-free socks. I am so nauseous from carrying my seventh child that I can barely open my usual rambling mouth. The death of my father-in-law has resulted in bitterness and anger from his widow. The anger is directed at my husband and I. The test of "blessing those who persecute you" is very real to me right now. My life make-over looks like this, my husband lost his father, we are losing our house and we are having a baby. What on earth does God have planned? I will just keep a clinging' to the Lord and pray my way towards heaven.

Not big enough for that many kids

It is a common assumption that the more kids you have the larger your body will be. How often does a woman without children here people say, "Wow, how do you do it and you work 40 hours a week?" or "How do you keep your figure after all those hours in the office?" I suppose the fact that a woman's uterus fills up and grows to accommodate a baby, and most of the time the rest of her body too, that it is uncommon to return to your size post baby.
I have spent too many years obsessing about the size of my back end, calves, upper arms and hips. I have spent days arranging naps and playdates around my chance to exercise. Fighting with myself to get up earlier than I would like, feeling guilty when I don't. I have wasted too much time staring at a shape that will forever be MINE. Have you read, The Shape of Me and Other Stuff ?
I only say this is a common assumption that you must be large to have had more than one child based on the obnoxious amounts of comments I have received over the years about the way I look. Some sound down right disappointed that I am not FAT!

Made Over 1.

Driving home from church this morning I talked with my brother in law as I drove, listening to the previous night's escapades of catching up with old friends. Seems my brother in law called it a night earlier than the rest of them and I picked on him for being "a light weight". I even carried it on a little further and continued my insults, friendly picking and nothing out of the ordinary for our relationship. But his response was different then the usually bantering back he says, "This is how you talk when you just got out of church? oh you Catholic keeping up with the guilt and…"

Here is where I was interrupted, as I typed, by my father. Not wanting him to see that I was writing, for fear he would ask to read it, I stopped and "x'd" out.

I don't remember the rest of the conversation from the car very clearly for as you will read something far more serious happened that day. The point I was getting at, I think, was that how pathetically sinful I am and he assumed that church is supposed to make me saintly. I vowed to remember we are Christ's hands and His words. How can I accomplish what I am set out to do while picking and teasing? How I wished I could explain that "church is for sinners". Whatever it was that I was aiming to get across to myself, to him and to you is heavily overshadowed by the events of that day.

After church and after picking on my tough enough brother in law I was in a mood. I was in the kind of mood I think many poor women must get into. In church all around me, in the pews, under the pews and throughout the pews all I saw was clean, and it wasn't my fmaily. Within my own family I saw, ragged hems, worn knees, stained fronts, smelly shoes, messy hair, mismatched socks, used clothes, used purse, used books, sweaty hats, dusty lives, unclipped fingernails, and faded colors. I desired a clean, white, shiny, crisp t-shirt, I wanted a life make-over.

After church that day my parents treated us all to a new bakery along with our friends, we cleared out the shop of every morsel of sweet and frosted goodness they had. We sat in the grass in the back. We drank coffee, they all talked about life while I wished for a new one. After my eldest son broke a chair that I'd asked him not to sit in and we boxed the leftovers we chatted in the parking lot, "What are you doing later today?" Catherine asked. I replied, "Can you come over and give me a make over, a LIFE makeover?"

I went home and continued with my dragging my feet attitude. I called my sister, "I need a life make over!" No one seems to take me seriously, they think I am melodrammatic and carry on, but I don't say things like that unless I think I mean them. She asks what it is that I want and I flippently say " a clean white shirt…" and then she carries on with all sorts of ways to achieve this, visualize the shirt.

The thing is I don't have the time or money for what I am looking for and maybe I am looking for an illusion?

I fussed about the lack of housing possibilities, I cried as I put my baby down for a nap, feeling extremely sorry for myself. Later that day, in an attempt to bring some joy to the day, we took the kids to the beach for a picnic dinner. We hadn't even made it to the shoreline before we got a phone call, within an hour my husband was fatherless, my children grandpa-less. This was not the make over I was looking for.

Why am I homeschooling?

In my garden, right smack in the middle is a Bee Balm plant, it is red. It is there because I love the smell. It is also an attractant to butterflies and hummingbirds and I love the idea of a garden being a mini (micro) ecosystem, but not to the extant of inviting the deer.
The children and I have watched as hummingbirds dart, settle, suck and flee. We have watched them fight with the each other, claiming their nectar than chattering away noisily. This spring I discovered that, although the garden seemed dead, there was a distinctive smell of potpourri. I was tickled with the joy at the lingering scent of last years Bee Balm and went about collecting an apron full of spent seeds. That night I tucked them under my pillow and dreamed of warm days and warm soil.
In the corner of my garden as you enter, a little to the left, tucked behind the door, a tall unidentified herb has been growing. I knew my girlfriend gave it to me, I was pretty sure it was an herb, yet to taste it left me uncertain.
My mother is visiting and knows more about plants and gardening then I. The other day as I left the garden and the ever neglected plant behind the door I noticed that it was crowned with a purple flower identical to my "center of attention" Bee Balm. My mother recognized the square stalk as the same family as the Bee Balm but was unsure what it was, especially after I kept insisting that it was an herb, savory maybe.
I may have looked it up in 6 months or so but my mother learned it's name while reading about the Native Indians of this area-it is Burgamot. Burgamot, like the tea in Earl Grey. Now that we have done a little research and filled our heads with it's medicinal and practical uses I am quite pleased to know that my Bee Balm is so much more than a smelly center piece.

But I am not writing any of this to talk about red flowers but about why I am homeschooling.

My father asked, "So, why are you homeschooling?" I gave him a generic answer, maybe a standard "you'll understand this one" answer. I said, "ummm, because there are like almost 30 kids in a class." He said, " Well there were 40 when I was a kid." I looked at my mom for her to roll her eyes at his exaggeration and she said, "or 50, it was Catholic school and they filled the seats. I don't remember any kids ever getting out of hand or out of line." So I continued knowing they would like this one, " Well, you can't go to church in the morning at public school." and " I don't like the curriculum." and " I haven't been pleased with what I see, I mean even the Christmas shows are unimpressive."

What was I talking about? What I wanted to say was, "They ask for all of our time and there's no time left for Jesus. " I mean it isn't about being impressed it is about lacking meaning. My kids are gone from 8-4pm when they have been in school and then we squeeze in sports and homework, where is the time for family?

I am homeschooling because I want my children to have a Burgamot moment, unplanned, undocumented- real learning. I want them to discover and follow their own rabbit paths. I want to foster in them a love of learning with Christ at the heart of it all. I hope they will become life long learners, educated by their experiences with a Catholic world view. I don't want the government's agenda to be more important than God's.

I want my children to understand and act on, "I am, I can, I ought and I will" and recite that motto as they look at the tasks in front of them, as they are challenged and as a response to their calling.

I am . . . a child of God, a gift to my parents and my country. I'm a person of great value because God made me.

I can . . . do all things through Christ who strengthens me. God has made me able to do everything required of me.

I ought . . . to do my duty to obey God, to submit to my parents and everyone in authority over me, to be of service to others, and to keep myself healthy with proper food and rest so my body is ready to serve.

I will . . . resolve to keep a watch over my thoughts and choose what's right even if it's not what I want.

I want my children to run and play. I want them to be responsible to their family. I want them to be confident and unconcerned about what is cool or not cool to wear and be thankful that they are dressed. I want them to learn in the warmth of our home.



Charlotte Mason says it much better than I. She said that children have the need to be stimulated from an early age by a broad curriculum, not simply to be trained to read, write and count. She believed the best curriculum was one that contained the best literature, the best art, the best contemporary science and nothing mediocre.

A “living” education as defined by Charlotte Mason is one where a child is exposed to and acquainted with a large and various amount of “things and thoughts“. The child is educated through the use of many living books, the study of nature, physical exercise, handicrafts, science, art and music. Charlotte Mason taught that ideas were the food of the mind and that it was of the utmost importance that children be given a wide and varied diet of this essential food. Through the use of living books, real life experiences and conversations, a child’s mind should be fed on the good and the sublime, the honorable and true, because, as Miss Mason writes, “out of our ideas comes our conduct of life.”

“It is for their own sakes that children should get knowledge. The power to take a generous view of men and their motives, to see where the greatness of a given character lies, to have one’s judgment of present events illustrated and corrected by historic and literary parallels, to have, indeed, the power of comprehensive judgment these are admirable assets within the power of every one according to the measure of his mind; and these are not the only gains which knowledge affords.” (A Philosophy of Education pp. 302-303) (borrowed from Mater Amabilis.)

It isn't the same to know about something as it is to know something. A text book teaches a student about a certain subject where a first hand account, "living book" presents the intimate reality of a particular subject. A walk in the woods is to know the woods, to smell it, feel it and learn to love it or dislike it. To read about the woods and the many varieties of life there is to learn something about it but never to experience knowing it and therefore to make an opinion about it.

I want to raise my children. I want to see them nourished by the soil that we fertilize with prayers, penance and praise!

Shaklee Independent Distributor

Shaklee Independent Distributor

Kneading Prayer

This morning my husband emptied out the dishwasher and this afternoon as I loaded it I said a prayer of thanksgiving for him. I thought about all the times my mother must have done the same. In her silence she must have said prayers for us and thanked God for us - so many years of folding, sweeping, mixing and scrubbing gone unnoticed yet savored by Our Lord.
My mother taught me how to make bread and I often times pray as I knead my bread, rather than counting the minutes I keep track with the rosary, with every push of the heel of my hand and pull with my fingers I mix in my intentions; that the bread nourish my children with more than the nutrients of the grain. While watering my garden I give every plant a few Hail Mary's before I am on to the next one.
My mother must have done the same, she often seemed lost in thought transfixed on something beyond me, beyond the bread, beyond the garden, and beyond the laundry room. Unfortunately she was criticized for her silence- criticized by me. I wanted engagement, interaction, her opinions, her thoughts, her comments and I rarely, if ever, got them. But what would I be like had she dominated every conversation?
If my mother had never offered up her voice or sacrificed the need for her opinion to be heard, I may have never learned that I had one. If my mother had never toned down her own creative style, passion and drive I may have never needed a reason to shine. If she had been the best at everything and expressed her deepest desires I most likely wouldn't have seen the "fight" worth fighting or the challenges worth conquering.
Her strength is in her silent prayer. I can imagine, as a mother now, she often felt discouraged, under appreciated and her good works (and good words) unnoticed but her refuge in prayer has worked on the one daughter that begged for her voice the most. A fine example of teaching a lesson without a plan, without a scope (definitely without a sequence) but by example. Her prayerfulness soaked into me and has nourished me.


“But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. " Mt 6

11:11

I have waited long enough, it is no longer a coincidence, the time is 11:11 all the time. I don't know what it means, I don't know why it is, but it started happening so frequently that my belly would drop with that kinda nervous flutter, like someone is watching you. It started happening that every night when I went to bed that was the exact time, and then it seemed every time I was on the phone with my dad and at my computer it was 11:11 but then I noticed that it really was ! It was no longer "seeming" that way. I haven't mentioned this phenomena to anyone but my dad and my husband and then today I read this.....http://www.markmallett.com/blog/2011/06/time-time-time/. I haven't even got to the part where he writes about 11:11! But I will now and let you know what I think.

Stretch to the Heavens

My dad sent me an email today, like he often does forwarding information to all of his children in hopes that we will; adhere to the message presented, that our faith will be deepened, that maybe we will be educated from it, and sometimes in hopes that we will change our ways. His challenge is that he raised girls that are independent thinkers, strong willed, and sometimes defensive. He seems to present what he thinks is teaching in a critical fashion, which often leads to the point being lost and the reader's emotions riled. The bit I will share with you today he sent to his children, of which six I can say have most likely at some point in time had a regular yoga routine. The daughter that responds is a dancer and licensed yoga instructor. Maybe his point was to bring the error of finding God in yoga to our attention and to lead us all to look more closely at the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist- I assure you she didn't get the message.

Dear Family,

The link below is to an article by a former Yoga teacher who concludes:

“Yoga appeals to modern America because it is a pseudo-science. It is technique-driven and codified. It is also addictive as one becomes more and more used to the pleasure of altered states (which can lead to habitual dissociation). Americans desire for self-improvement, endless youth and ultimate knowledge and power have fed the yoga craze. The concepts of sacrifice, suffering and guilt of mainline Christianity are replaced by a philosophy of endless progress, bliss and control over one 's own destiny.”

“In closing, yoga and all New Age practices have filled the void that exists because we abandoned the greatest source of bliss and comfort, the Eucharist. A return to the Eucharist and a renewed program of instruction on contemplative prayer will bring many Catholics back from these deceptively beautiful practices and philosophies. “

http://www.crossveil.org/page7.html

Love,

Dad

My sister's response

That is a load of crap I have got to say. Yoga is great exercise and keeps a person healthy. It is not anti Christianity nor is it pseudo science! It is neurotic and obsessive to focus on blaming yoga for less people being involved with having faith. Keeping it real.

I would be curious to know if she read the article.

Any thoughts or comments about Yoga when used as an exercise routine?

Alleluia

“...I desire to renew prayer with you and to call you to fast which I desire to offer to my Son Jesus for the coming of a new time—a time of spring…the Church is being renewed in the Spirit...” Our Lady at Medjugorje October 25, 2000

Alleluia! Renewal is beautiful, the coming spring, fresh and new, a time to open the windows of our souls, of our minds and plant seeds, nurture them, and harvest the fruit of our efforts. I say "bring it on!" Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

Fierce?

I am a woman hear we roar...yet I long to be a lamb. I come across coarse, maybe like salt, it adds flavor, yet can be caustic. I hear I can be intimidating, abrupt, and overly opinionated. I can't say that if I overheard a conversation about myself the adjectives like gentle, sweet and nice would be flying from the mouths, really, I long to be described on the sugary side. Lord, teach me how to be the salt of the earth and learn to be the lamb who lies down with the lion.

If you were to witness a murder, the blade above the head, the gun pointed, the poison so carefully measured and disguised, if you were to witness a murder- what would you do?
If you were to witness the execution of a Jew, fifty plus years ago, the slaughter of a civilian, would you cry out ? Would you scream and yell, "Stop!" ?
You say you would.
If you knew, you really knew he was innocent, he never committed that crime, you knew-
what would you do?
How sure are you of your value? Would it matter if someone didn't have the time for you, the money for you, the energy for you, or the resources for you?
Would you try to tell them you were worth their time and effort, would you try to prove yourself?
I would, I would fight with all I've got - if it meant my life.
Who fights for the children? Who fights for the ones that have no face, no voice, no name, and no value?
The children that no one has declared a purpose for, a reason for.
The problem with abortion is not the lack of people willing to fight for children.
We fight for children, we form groups for children, we have homes for children and groups for children and fundraisers for children all around the world.
We forget the children in the womb.
We forget them because we are so overextended? We forget to fight for them and plan parties for them because we've never seen them?
Do they not exist if we never heard their cry?
They must be less than me, they are small and unseen.
Must I therefore be more valuable? I am big, I take up space, I talk and I have an opinion; am I more valuable?
Am I more valuable because you can get to know me?
The problem with abortion is not in the lacking of people fighting for children.
The problem is the child is attached to it's mother.
The only voice the child has is the voice of it's mother.
The only face the child has is the face of it's mother.
The value the child has rests in our culture and the value we put on the strength of it's mother.

Tongue Tied, Twisted

I have always had too much to say, my mother always scolded me for never thinking before I spoke. I really never saw a problem with my hastiness, honestly, I think as a child I thought I was quick witted or that spontaneity was attractive and a part of my character. I liked myself, maybe I had a bloated sense of self confidence but no one but my parents (and maybe my siblings, okay and maybe some friends parents, AND my teachers) seemed to have a problem with it.
When I was in Kindergarten I really thought my teacher thought I had no control over my out bursts, what she obviously didn't understand in my mind, was that I just didn't want to control it, I had an answer for everything. In first grade my fervor for speaking more than listening continued and the attention that came my way boosted my excitement for, life!
In fourth grade I was separated from my friends and permanently and intentionally moved into a different classroom. In fifth grade I was moved to the wall that the black board was on, so that the rest of the class was behind me and I had to turn my chair to see the teacher. I was miffed at first but took full advantage of the blank white wall in front of me, decorating it to be my own and hanging a poster of a clown on it. My fifth grade teacher even helped me write a poem about my blubbering self, describing my wagging tongue and an image that included drool. Well maybe you can imagine where this got me?
At one point I talked myself right into the position of state alternate as an exchange student to Germany. Although the two first choices went I remember the nods of interest as I answered every question the judges had for me.
I often just sum up all I have to say with blah, blah, blah and "well you know what I mean....."

I think I may be exhausting myself with my own chatter.

There is no point to this, but I did feel impelled to share that lately I feel tongue-tied. I think if God casts spells he cast one on my tongue. I seem to feel awkward and all twisted up when it comes to verbally expressing myself as of late. I am either talking too fast to get out what I have to say in order to get it all out before the recipient is off on another tangent or I just simply can't say what I want to say.
What is that? Is twisted tongue a syndrome, a symptom or a spell?

More Wag

Obama says he "aspires to peace".

What are they looking for?

A group of us at our church are gathering to discuss the book Doers of the Word by Archbishop Dolan and one of the questions last week was, "Is the secular world searching for a more closer union with God?" In my heart I wanted to answer, "Yes, why of course they are!" The truth is, as we tossed this one around, that we are not seeing evidence of this. In the secular world there is a lot of searching and a lot of finding but it has nothing to do with God and a lot more to do with what feels right.
This morning as I dropped off my daughter at school the car in front of me was pasted with stickers like amnesty international and the sierra club. But the one that prompted me to think about the whole wide world without religion was "Wag More, Bark Less". Yes, it is a nice thought and a cute sticker for a dog lover but it speaks the sentiments of today. Simply by smiling and "being happy" we will create a peaceful world. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Why, because we get angry! We get angry when kids are starving, when wives are beat, when our food is poisoned, when schools are danger zones, when babies are murdered, when the poor can barely survive, we get mad and then we do something. There is no wagging when evil shows it's face. There is no face lapping, paw shaking or fetching when the world is in such chaos. How can one calm the storm by smiling at it?
I think we need to talk a whole lot more and not back into the proverbial paper bag but straight to God in heaven. The secular world will eventually wake up, they will eventual see that the false peace they believe they create, by encouraging everyone to get along, will disintegrate.
I recently prayed in front of an abortion clinic with four of my children, a day after a homemade fire bomb had been thrown at a woman in prayer. One friend disapproved at what she saw as irresponsible and dangerous, she said, "There is a lot of evil out there." I couldn't agree with her more, the evil that takes place inside that building, the evil that spreads from it like a vicious rumor on a raging river, is real. I stood there but I was not alone with us there were five guardian angels and a whole lot of prayers. It really isn't about shaking my back end rather than yelling and it is about praying, defending, and sharing God's word, His peace and love. Maybe this is evidence at our failure to spread His word, how can one know it if they are never taught it? Maybe wagging is the best they've got?

Homemade bomb thrown at peaceful protester

40 Days for life...40 Days of prayer for mothers and their babies. Mother Theresa said "And if we can accept that a mother can kill her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another?" Here in Kalispell, Montana babies lives are threatened everyday and now those who peacefully pray for a conversion of heart are also not safe. The officers were unmoved and even suggested to expect such violence.

1 Corinthians 4:5 "do not go on passing judgment before the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men's hearts; and then each man's praise will come to him from God."

Cowboys still kneel

Last night I was a cocktail waitress in the VIP section at a Bull Riding Event. Up close and personal with the cowboys, the bulls and the drinkers.
Cowboys still kneel in prayer. In case you didn't know, Cowboys still kneel.
Cowboys who are tough, dirty, dusty, stuffed in chaps, kneel and pray.
Cowboys take off their hats, place it over their heart and bend their knees.
Cowboys get on bull and hold on for dear life but first they pray.
Cowboys drink and Cowboys spit.
Cowboys open doors and twirl girls, Cowboys get rough in the fields
and Cowboys still kneel.

We are strong

I know what I don't want to be part of. I do not want to be part of a culture of death. I do not want to stand face to face with a woman who tells me she had no choice but to visit with someone who believed her only path to wholeness was to rip her baby from her womb and not have been able to save her from that horror.
I know I want to be about empowerment and sharing with woman the very strength we possess that is being stolen and manipulated into, "our strength is in freedom" and that kind of freedom being referred to is childless or lives only in the life with children of intention.
I beg to ask how many woman have willed their conception? How many women have said this month of September is the month that agrees with my schedule and subsequently in June have birthed their purposeful child?
If woman could recognize the gift of motherhood and stand to defend the lives of their children in any case, yes even in the case of rape, can you imagine the women we would be? Strong, vivacious, brilliant, defiant even. I know I want to be joined with women who will stand for their rights. The right to no longer be victimized by a culture that says we are only worthy when we are weak. A culture that says we are too weak to birth, too weak to break up, too weak to survive,too weak to tell our parents, too weak to give our child the gift of adoption, too weak to let anyone know. Why? Why do our children have to die?

Christian Soldiers

"There is no Easy Button in real life. Look at a crucifix and there you will see your model. Servanthood, laying down our lives that’s what we are called to, and it’s totally different from what the world says. Jesus is our example. He was Lord but came to serve not to be served. If I can remember this in my role with my children things go much better. I am here to facilitate their learning, serve them in their needs etc. I don’t have all the answers, I am seeker like so many others but I am trying to constantly be open to helping my children discover who they are and become the person God created them to be."
Michele Quigley (Homeschooling Mom of 10 Michele Quigley.net)

What if Mary already told us?

So many of us question, how can we know? If only we had a messenger from heaven... Yet so many of us search for the answers in the news that only increasingly tells us that on one hand it is really bad and none of us are doing enough yet on the other hand it isn't as bad as one thinks and if we all just became vegetarians, recycled and praised whomever we think that "god" is in the fresh air on some vacation sebatacle we are sure to find some sort of inner peace. Yet so many of us long, so many search, in the face of death we all cry out. We cry out as the ones we love leave this world and many among us are so painfully uncertain that what their love ones will face is nothing.
I am curious why this is alarming when the same people claim, before they experience life in the trenches that there isn't a God more of an essence maybe and there isn't a Supreme being capable of causing death that inevitable causes pain. Concluding that if there is pain there is no God if there are ways to live by that are unpleasurable there can not be a God. Yet so many find themselves feeling the effects of unemployment, less food, depression, uncertainty, addiction and disease and start to wonder, IS THERE ANYBODY LISTENING?
Why is it then that we aren't all talking about Mary's apparitions, why isn't there a buzz about Mary? Children, Men and Women of many faiths, no faith, barefoot and lonely in the wilderness are telling us she has a message, they heard her, they saw her and she is talking to us- She the mother of Jesus. She has told others secrets before that have unfolded before the visionaries very eyes, they have lived the massacre of Rwanda, they have heard the horrors of WWII yet we turn a deaf ear.
Most of us would rather read some over published piece of garbage like, The Secret, that tells us to focus more on ourselves. If we had all the answers would we be crying out? There are no atheists in a fox hole.

- $700

Actually it is probably a whole lot more than that, electric bill $200, packaging for 400 lbs of cow $272, truck payment and groceries would be nice. Good news is we sold the four wheeler, the money wasn't supposed to be used as income but work is super slow right now. Any money we did have saved wasn't yet a months income. So the 4 wheeler will go and maybe we will have $500 to put into our emergency fund. We are following Dave Ramsey's advice, baby step #1 $1000. I am waiting for a loaf of bread to finish baking so the kids will have something to put their tuna fish in between. I don't care for tuna fish without celery but oh well. I think I will sneak a little apple and onion in there and top it with some spinach. I made granola bars today but there weren't a big hit. They will still go in their lunches because if they are hungry they will eat it. I take pride in stretching the staples and scrounging for a few bucks for eggs, butter and milk. Today my husband and I decided we could take or leave wine and beer but not coffee, today was the first time in 13 years that he came back from the store with Folgers- we have always ground our own.

Today

Cheers to today, the only day I have to work with. Today I kissed each child, today I was honest with what I could do and felt defeated for all the things I wish I could do. I am content that my children ate homemade whole wheat biscuits and deer and gravy for breakfast, I am thankful I had powdered milk for times like today and yesterday and tomorrow. Today I was pleased that my children liked the soup otherwise known as "Yummy" soup loaded with tomatoes and cabbage. Today I wished I had chocolate and settled for semi failed peanut butter no bakes. Today I tried again to sell some stuff. Roll top desk, octagon coffee table, bird cage, wood stove, table, mirrors, apple basket- just drive by's. I am thankful for hand-me-down cloth diapers and the dollars saved by actually using them 5 months of baby's life thus far. Today I figured I have nothing to lose and should just right a damn book, but about what? Marriage and all it's insanity, secret desires of the nunnary, visions of Mary, my very proper rebellion? Well today will soon be a tomorrow and a tomorrow with an extra hour to think about it!

May 2010

Well it is almost summer here in Montana, I am ready for the flowers to flourish and the garden to grow. It has been a busy year. I didn't quite document my life of rice and beans nor the amount of bread I baked but I recall it all because it is still the norm. We are dependent on God's providence, either there is work for my husband or there is not. When there is we need to be frugal for the months that there is not. This year God was good, we purchased a 1/4th of a cow in September and made it last until now. I carried and delivered a happy baby boy into the world! I was diligent about packing lunches and curbing my "thrift store junkie" habit. Actually I have purged this house over and over. We have sold our hot tub, our shed, a gas stove, masonry rock, and other garage sale items. We have tried to sell our camper and my husband's utility trailer. "Simplicity is an exact medium between too little and too much." (Sir Joshua Reynolds). Last summer we increased our garden size and I experimented with lasagna gardening. We have cut back and evaluate our budget monthly, but all this may not be enough to keep our home.

Sub Prime served Rare

Here's a title with no text, I like coming up with titles, titles to books and chapters. All the thoughts are all jumbled up in my mind and I like to just sum them up and hope someone gets what I mean. So this title, well it's about the houses, it's about yours but it's really all about mine. Subprime served rare, like a steak? no like a punch, a wound, a skid, a sore...RAW!

The Repression

It is hitting close to home and some are falling and others are searching yet so many of us feel at a lost. It is a challenge to lose control of the future we thought we had clearly planned, isn't that what the "dream" was all about? A well planned itinerary, a fund for the children's college, retirement, a shiny car, perennial gardens, vacations that bronze the skin with a free drink in one hand and many hands massaging out the "kinks" of the life you escaped, low interest rates, diversified everything, assets, a boat for summer, ski gear for winter, the best preschool, time to volunteer, crisp, clean clothes, fresh sheets, a lawn where all the dandelions moved next door, matching silverware, a china cabinet and a piece of tupperware for every leftover you will never eat, isn't that what we were going for? This recession, depression -that I like to call the repression is changing us forever, my friends are without work, my friend's husband has left for 4 months to work- his son misses him, my friends are crying, wondering, growing food, despairing, taking sleeping pills, drinking on weeknights, my friends are leaving their husbands.......I am holding on to hope, I am called to help my friends. I am called to swap summer squash for tomatos, I am called to say thank you so it is heard, I am called to be available to hug,to listen,to care. I am called to give what I don't need, I am called to dig my feet in the earth and stand tall, I am called to count each and every blessing (even the blessings that hurt- the ones that grow roots while my branches are trimmed).

Rice and Beans Amen

Well what to do when the work slows down and the bills keep on coming in? Pray, Hope and don't worry....................and cut back, way back! So we are starting off the new year with a challenge, spending the absolute minimum, no dining, no bowling, no new clothes, nothing on credit, money into savings etc. I hope to document the year, how many loaves of bread I bake, how many pounds of beans I soak.

conservative efforts

After watching two episodes of " 17 and Counting" I felt.... well, unorganized and the mother of unruly children. I threw around the idea of sewing prairie dresses and getting much stricter. I pondered my own life title 5 and counting? and set to reading many homeschooling blogs wondering how they all make theirs look so nice and writing lists and looking over schedules

What are they looking for?

What are they looking for?

A group of us at our church are gathering to discuss the book Doers of the Word by Archbishop Dolan and one of the questions last week was, "Is the secular world searching for a more closer union with God?" In my heart I wanted to answer, "Yes, why of course they are!" The truth is as we tossed this one around was that we are not seeing evidence of this. In the secular world there is a lot of searching and a lot of finding but it has nothing to do with God and a lot more to do with what feels right.
This morning as I dropped off my daughter at school the car in front of me was pasted with stickers like amnesty international and the sierra club. But the one that prompted me to think about the whole wide world without religion was "Wag More, Bark Less". Yes, it is a nice thought and a cute sticker for a dog lover but it speaks the sentiments of today. Simply by smiling and "being happy" we will create a peaceful world. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Why, because we get angry! We get angry when kids are starving, when wives are beat, when our food is poisoned, when schools are danger zones, when babies are murdered, when the poor can barely survive, we get mad and then we do something. There is no wagging when evil shows it's face. There is no face lapping, paw shaking or fetching when the world is in such chaos. How can one calm the storm by smiling at it?
I think we need to talk a whole lot more and not back into the proverbial paper bag but straight to God in heaven. The secular world will eventually wake up, they will eventual see that the false peace they believe they create by encouraging everyone to get along will disintegrate.
I recently prayed in front of an abortion clinic with four of my children, a day after a homemade fire bomb had been thrown at a woman in prayer. One friend disapproved at what she saw as irresponsible and dangerous, she said, "There is a lot of evil out there." I couldn't agree with her more, the evil that takes place inside that building, the evil that spreads from it like a vicious rumor on a raging river,is real. I stood there but I was not alone with us there were five guardian angels and a whole lot of prayers. It really isn't about shaking my back end rather than yelling and it is about praying, defending, and sharing God's word, His peace and love. Maybe this is evidence at our failure to spread His word, how can one know it if they are never taught it? Maybe wagging is the best they've got?