Missionaries and Train Tracks

in Glendora, CA.
(mother note to son---- GET OFF THE TRAIN TRACK!)

Phoenix 2009

While in Phoenix for spring break, I subjected the kids to a photo shoot at a cool cactus park. Although it was a slightly overcast day, enough sun popped through to create alot of squinting and complaining.

Most of the pictures turned out flat and despite my detailed photoshop efforts, they still look dull. From a photography aspect, they are barely adequate. From an "I like looking at pictures of my children" aspect, they're perfect!
I have no idea why my blog post is underlining itself. Can't find an underlining symbol anywhere!

The "G" Word

Many years ago when the missionary was just a little tyke, maybe kindergarten or first grade (I know, I should have written it down when it happened. Maybe he was like, 14 or something as well as I remember things!) I picked him up from school one day.

He was noticeably upset.

I decided to be a mature mama and wait to see if he would share his problem with me.
I drove off.
30 seconds later all my maturity drove off too. (He was my first child, after all!)

I demanded (and I'm afraid that's all too true, in fact, I think I literally commanded him to tell me his problems. I had a lot of mothering learning to do. I still have a lot of mothering learning to do.)

In a tremulous voice, he told me that someone at school used the "G" word.
Said with appropriate tones saved for the very naughtiest of deeds.

The "G" word? My not so quick and commanding mothering mind searched for the "G" word. Was this some new word that I didn't know? I finally had my aha! moment and in my most mature mothering voice (it came back after being driven off) I started to explain how not all children have learned that we don't take the Lord's name in vain.

"Not that word, MOM!" he groaned.

Oh. Mature mother slipped away again momentarily. What to do? What other "G" words are there? What are they teaching my child at this school that I pay my taxes for? Who is my precious firstborn cavorting with at this heathen institution?

"Well, umm, which "G" word did this child say?"

No immediate answer from the back. I could see his thoughts...mom asking me to say a bad word???

then, quietly, hesitantly, I hear him say

"Jerk!"

I had to cover my mouth in a pretend fit of coughing to hide the uncontrollable laughter gurgling up within me. Between sputters and coughs, I finally summoned up enough composure to say one of my wisest, most mature mother comments ever.

"Oh my!"

I never had the heart to tell the missionary that the "G" word isn't really a "G" word after all, but a "J" word.

Blogging Thoughts

As of December 2007 there were over 112 million blogs worldwide. As of December 2008, there were at least 112,000,001 because that's when I jumped into the blogging world.

I've been thinking alot about blogs lately.... specifically my own blog.
What do I want to accomplish with my blog? Or is it a just for fun, no need to accomplish anything kind of activity?

I thought about the blogs I enjoy reading. And I do enjoy reading blogs. I may even be a closet blog-reader addict. I enjoy reading blogs about other places in the world, about families, about the financial condition of our economy and our personal lives...

I read quilt blogs faithfully.
I don't quilt.
But the beautiful works of fabric art inspire me with their colors, their design, their message.

I read blogs about courageous people overcoming challenges with faith and hope. I add these bloggers into my prayers.

Some blogs are maintained to market the blogger's business interests, and some blogs have become so popular that the blogger makes a significant amount of money through advertising banners placed on their blog. Jen Lancaster, who wrote the book "Bitter is the New Black", (a funny book if you can handle her expletive language) started her literary career with a blog detailing her experiences after being laid off and unemployed from a high-paying, important job.

I started off blogging thinking that at the end of the year I'd send the blog archives off to wherever it is they go to be made into a book. A type of journal safe for public consumption that we could look back at years from now and say-- my, wasn't 2009 a great year? However as I've reviewed my recent posts- cheating on online Jane Austen quizzes and the such, I'm doubting the wisdom of turning my blog into a family book. How can I teach my grandchildren and great-grandchildren the virtue of honesty when I so dismiss it in my quest for Elizabeth Bennet-hood?

I also started off blogging hoping to entice the rest of my extended family into starting their own blogs where we could show off our good-looking children to one another, praise our clever actions in difficult situations, and connect a bit better than the annual christmas card and birthday phone calls. They didn't bite.

Here's what I didn't expect when I started a blog.
That I would like reading my older posts over again
That I would laugh sometimes at my wit (or lack thereof)
That I would be the biggest fan of my blog.

And that's the answer to what I want to accomplish with my blog.
I want to enjoy fun, silly, touching, tender, nonsensical moments again.
And again.

And for those of you that read (and hooray to those that comment!), I hope that you sometimes laugh, sometimes feel tender, and that sometimes this blog uplifts your life as other blogs uplift mine.

Yes! Elizabeth Bennet!

I see this Jane Austen quiz as a sort of ACT....
take it over and over again until you get the best score!

then be proud of that score and forget that you took it numerous times.

So...I took the quiz again....
hoping to learn from my prior mistakes.
and...
I am Elizabeth Bennet!

smart, beautiful, passionate, loyal, true...
that's me!
(and proves the old adage that practice makes perfect!)

Not Elizabeth Bennet?

I took this highly scientific quiz and learned that of all Jane Austen's heroines, I am most like Marianne Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility.

I was hoping to be Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice.
Smart, witty, beautiful,
quick with a retort when injustice is sensed.
Plus, Keira Knightley was just so delightful and stunning in the film that I wanted just a little piece of that action!

I am Marianne.
Have you read sense and sensibility?
I am more Marianne than I thought.
and she is sort of a half heroine.
From e-notes:
Marianne personifies the sensibility in the title of the book. Marianne is a girl whose "sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation." She is all passion and romantic notions; this is typified in her playing the piano. While living out her passions, she is self-absorbed and unconcerned with the poor impression that she often makes on others.

I'm kind of surprised that she is a heroine at all...maybe she's only 1/4 heroine?
I'm going to go re-take the quiz.
I'm sure I can study for it and figure out how to be Elizabeth Bennet!

The Thrill of Victory (at a small cost)

Over the weekend, DH and I got together with some friends for treats and games.
I was in charge of the game-

I brought "encore" which is actually an older game but can still be purchased at amazon.com for $12.95. Of course, you'll have to buy another book worth at least $13 to get the free shipping...but that makes it all the more fun! Because another book is always a good thing.

The gist behind Encore is to break into teams, pick a card, then come up with as many songs as possible with lyrics using the word on the card. An example would be the word "red"...Possible songs would be "Little Red Corvette" or "Lady in Red." Sometimes many songs come to mind, sometimes nothing! The team who can't come up with songs repeatedly, loses.

DH is very good at this game. I learned that I am very good at remembering every single inappropriate song I've ever heard with the chosen word in it. When the 20 second egg timer is turned over, it's amazing how the mind turns blank. Except for the songs you don't want to sing in mixed company. Unless you really want to win. Which I always do.

For the word "like"
I shouted out "I like big butts and I cannot lie!"
the crowd was quiet.
They don't know that song.
They were slightly shocked that I sang the song slightly off-tune and without missing a word.
DH knows that song!
But he sat there (on the other team) looking blankly at me as if to say-
who is this woman and why is she here?
Of course his eyes are totally laughing behind his blank look.
But I'm the only one that knows that.

I stubbornly insisted that not only was "I like big butts" a real song, but one of my favorites..
(it's not really.)
Scarily enough they believed me.

They didn't seem to believe me as easily when later in the game the word was "til" and I stated that one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world is "God be with you til we meet again." (it is, really.)

Ah, the costs associated with the thrill of victory.
Because of course,
my team won.

The Day I Confused the Appraiser for an Awkward Blind Date

So...
the cleaning happened.
It was painful, and every bit as awful as I expected it to be.
But all was ready for the almighty appraiser man this morning.

Almost ready.
Appraiser man came early (which is where the whole confusion started to set in , because I hadn't swiffered the stairs -again- of black dog hair which reproduces during the night.) Dog hair on stairs is not a value booster and does nothing for the whole instrinsic flow I was hoping for.

Appraiser man asks me if we had alot of traffic when our house was on the market a year ago. I had forgotten that he would obviously see this fact in the records and could very well ask about it. Well, we had alot of cleaning to do while it was on the market, and that felt like traffic to me, so I answered "Oh yes, we had ALOT of traffic. Of course, no offers..." This is when I realized my fatal error. I should have answered that we had little traffic, which in truth we did, because that would make it seem as if too few people saw it to appreciate what a great deal it was at 5% over purchase price.

Feeling awkward, as I did on blind dates in my single years, I asked a question.

"Do you like your job"

Appraiser man does indeed like his job.

Appraiser man asks what upgrades we've made to the house since we moved in.
I point out the beautiful arched doorways and niches that I'm not sure he has had the opportunity to fully appreciate.
(they came with the house.)

I notice at this point that appraiser man is wearing his socks. Before I can shut my mouth, I tell him he can put his shoes back on as there is "dog hair everywhere." Open mouth insert wide foot.

Do you see the value of my home slipping? I do.

The final nail in my appraiser man coffin came as he was preparing to leave.
"You have a very nice home" he said.
"I bet you say that to all the homeowners" was my blurted response.

I think that appraiser man enjoys his job a little less after his visit at my home.

And I'm glad I'm married. It's clear that I wasn't ever good at blind dates and the years haven't improved me!
although I did marry a blind date. another story for another day