I thought we were supposed to be grownups!

So I log into this forum where I'd been doing some posting over the past year only to find grown up people carrying out a full blown argument on whether or not to celebrate Christmas! Jeesh you people can't you find something more important to do? Now I'll readily admit that my first inclination is to start right in there with my $1.50, and in the past I've done so plenty often. I'm preaching to myself as much as anyone here. But now.....I'll admit....it seems pretty petty. In the past I've actually been surprised and a little dismayed to find that my arch-enemy in one thread is actually my ally in another thread. I don't think this is such a good thing or very conducive to fellowship. Maybe I'm the only person who feels this way, but I sort of doubt it. In such situations the atmosphere can become one of restrained witch hunting with everyone trying to throw everyone else into the water to see if they float. As Christians I believe I can safely say that this should not be! Such places ostensibly exist for the edification and encouragement of others (which they can often be in a great measure), but all too often they become factionalized heresy hunts. We say with lofty condescension "Even though your understanding of Jot-tittle 19 is clearly inferior and possibly heretical I shall extend the right hand of fellowship so that I may instruct/be instructed on the better making of soup." Am I really the only one who thinks this is rather ridiculous? I sort of want to say "Look God is big enough for us all to share Him -stop hogging the divine inspiration!" However, the truth is that some people are right about somethings and some other people are wrong about those same things. I have my own opinions which I naturally prefer to some other opinions. That's the nature of opinions. So what do we do? I suppose in some ways we tone it down. Don't shout out a breastfeeding manifesto on the formula aisle of Walmart. Do (if you're an older,experienced woman) go up to an expectant mom, tell you've breastfed successfully for x years, are a big supporter of it, and would love help/encourage/explain/answer questions at any time. Then back off. Don't wed your encouragement to her enthusiasm for your particular method.* Unfortunately that's exactly what we don't want to do. Me included. Having a faint grasp of iridology there are times when I see an infants eyes and want to go shake the mother for not taking better care of her baby. Seriously. Then I remember that doing so is not likely to do any good and that instead waiting for an opportunity to speak "a word in due season" just might. Even then I have to remember that plenty of people with umm interesting features in their iris do live long happy lives. "Oh, but things could be so much better if only they would just listen to me and do things my way!" Maybe so, but you're not likely to convince them of it before they want to be convinced. Forcing the issue is only conducive to disharmony. I mean take natural health. My mother-in-law has said quite plainly that carbonated water (even in fizzy all natural, no sugar added juice drinks) is paralyzing to the digestive track and that since Allen and I both have challenges in that area we really don't need them. But guess what -every once in a while we drink one anyway. Is my mother in law in a position to be upset that we aren't doing things "right?" Darn right. Does she? Nope. She's wise, and she's not going to break fellowship (or play the martyred mother) because of it. She cares about us more than she cares about how well we follow her excellent advice. On that note let me just say that I wish more people (myself included) could be like here, and that'll put an end on my rambling post. Gosh it's good to write about something other than soup.

* please go read Nancy Wilson's superlative post on the same topic.

Resolution

This is the third time I've written this today in one form or another. I'm not pregnant. Or rather, I'm not pregnant anymore. We finally figured out that for the past year I've been having a series of miscarriages one after the other. Some of my pregnancies seemed to have lasted as long as 2-3 months before...well I'm getting tired of writing that word. I'm really mostly ok with everything, but I'm getting a little tired of talking/writing about it. We figured out this past month that I likely lost and conceived in January, but it's only been this week that we figured out to what extent this has really been happening. Needless to say things have been confusing. I'm still getting used to the fact that those funny feelings in my tummy really are just gas/muscle spasms/etc and have nothing to do with pregnancy. Because things have been insane all along I'm really not crushed or stunned by this resolution to things, but I am still in the process of wrapping my head around everything. I really appreciate everyone who has supported me through all this even when you thought I was absolutely wrong and possibly a little crazy. Right now I'm going to be working on getting my body back into shape and cleaning out whatever problem that was fouling up the works to begin with and really just getting my life back to normal. Thanks everyone for sticking in there with me.


P.S. A friend I've been chatting with mentioned that this post sounds kind of numb and wanted to know if I'm really ok. Really I've just had to repeat this a lot today, and it's tiring. I'm honestly doing ok. It's been a relief to have some answers sad though they are.

Pasta Soup

I really love making and eating soup -especially when I get to eat with a nice cheddar, mahon, or gouda. This soup goes well with grated mozzarella sprinkled on top.

Pasta Soup

Ingredients:

1-2lbs ground turkey (depending on how much meat you need/like)
2 med zucchini chopped
3c grated carrots (give or take)
2 med onions chopped
1/2lb chopped frozen spinach
1 jar spaghetti sauce
2c each chicken and veggie broth
heavy dash Braggs Amino Acids/soy sauce
3tbl basil pesto (this makes all the difference)
Pasta as desired*

Method:

Brown turkey with onion and season well with salt,pepper, and garlic (powder or minced). Put all the ingredients in the pot except for the pasta, top off with water, and let simmer for a couple hours. Add the pasta no more than an hour before serving.

Tonight I made this for my husband and brothers-in-law to have while I was out with their mom, and apparently they approved. There's also a decent amount of my apple bread gone, so I guess they didn't mind the texture too much :)





*I first made this soup with a package of tortellini, but since I've recently needed to cut down on my wheat consumption I replaced the tortellini with rice pasta and sprinkled grated mozzarella on top. I also added a couple dashes of tobasco sauce and a light sprinkle of crushed red pepper flakes for a little heat.

Note on bread

There is such a thing as too much cinnamon, and an inserted knife can come out clean while the bread is still far too gooey and moist. Thus is the story of my apple cinnamon pecan bread.

putting things in order

My curtain/accent fabric finally came in! I'll have to post a picture of it sometime, but it's a lovely, rambling floral full of lovely red and green tones with delicate shadings of blue and gold all spread out over a creamy background. I love that the little butterflies scattered around give it a slightly whimsical feeling. I originally bought it to make pillows for the living room, but when I saw how well it went with the green polyester dupioni I bought to make bedroom drapes I knew I had to somehow incorporate the two. I must say that for the life of me I can't figure out how that's going to work although a few thoughts have started to bubble up. We'll just have to see where it goes. I've like to get some of this done this week since starting next week we're going to be hosting my mother-in-law's church small group on health. Over a dozen signed up today, so it looks like our little living room is going to be packed! Looking around there's seating for ten -eleven if you count the gliding ottoman- and we're likely going to want to plan for twenty (counting us and a few friends.) This is going to be interesting. I've never been hostess to such a group before. Thankfully all I really have to do is get the place clean and make sure we've eaten and gotten things set up before everyone arrives. There are a few things I need to get done and a few things I need to track down for things to be really in order, but so long as I remember to get off the computer and get down to business I should really be fine.

names

Laura over at Quietude recently posted a list of her favorite boy and girl names. Reading over her list I thought I most post a few names of my own. Some of these are completely random and will likely never be used, but they're all names I like for one reason or another.

Boys:

Peter
William
Ransom
Kari (pro Car+y) -a really neat character out of Njal's Saga
Gideon (one of my sisters has preemptively claimed this one)

Girls:

Astra
Debra
Amaris
Wealthow (queen in Beowulf)
Natalie (duh) :)
Dorcas
Lydia



Hmmmm, maybe we should plan on having more boys than girls ;)

All better now

I really think all I needed yesterday was a good belly laugh. Last night Allen spent, gosh, maybe three hours reading me a log some people had made of a succession game of Dwarf Fortress. I haven't laughed that hard or that long for a week. We were both of us howling to much at times that we could barely read. I'm a little tired, but that's a natural consequence of being up until 2am. All's good though. It's really the truth that "laughter doeth good like a medicine."

knit 1 purl 3 unravel 2 rows.....

At least that it how my knitting has gone these past few days. When I'm done I'll have knitted this blanket twice I think. Oooof, not a fun way to get projects done. At least it's a nice pattern...wish I didn't keep making these one stitch errors that require me to rip out a couple of rows to correct.

Inspiration sought here

My books are dull and my fabric stash unappealing. My knitting has become tedious, and I can't work up much enthusiasm for clearing anything off the bedroom floor. Supper plans aren't exactly pressing either. I just want a reason that will get me moving. I've been moving kind of slow these past few days, and I'm tired of it. What's more is that my brain is going slow too. I can't quite work up the gumption to read anything very involved nor write much of anything worth reading. Maybe I should just stick with my knitting after all :P Not sure if I need more protein or less grains or B vitamins or what. /me shakes head. I guess I just need to get moving whether I like it or not. Hopefully I'll get out of this funk and post something worth the seeing in a few days.

To be innarticulate

Occasionally I stumble on blog posts out in the interworld to which I would dearly love to give a response. This one here that I found while link hopping is among those. However I have this problem that in the face a blustering and sarcastic (and unquestionable clever) blogger (often male) I find myself scrambling for arguments that won't leave me painted into some corner or forced into taking up a position which I don't really hold. I know there are good arguments against such thinking as his. I myself would say that his main failing is in his weakened sense of Christian culture. But how to articulate that to someone who has rejected so many of the tenets which inform my understanding? These men are very good at what they do. The gift of gab is in their mouths and they often have a sort of bench press persuasiveness about them which mocks my girly-biceped remonstrations. And many of them are demonstrably smart. So what's a girl to do? What are any of us to do when we sense instinctively that an argument is built on cow pats or we see the jagged cracks between their thesis and the panorama of God's Word? What do we do when God's Word is questioned and fragmented to suit their own logic? I'm inclined to wish at such times that I was a man trained in History and Theology to put the finger to their flaws and crack their argument like rotten nuts. But, being me, I simply add another book or five to my imaginary reading list and pray that someday someone with more brains than me will set them right or that God Himself will see fit to point them to the true paths. Other than that I mainly bide my peace knowing that imperfect logic or knowledge on my end with likely invalidate in their eyes anything of value I might say. It's frustrating, but that's the way it is right now.

Baked Tacos with Margarita Chicken

This recipe still needs a little fine tuning to get all the flavors balanced out (I sorta got too happy with the cumin and jalapeños), but I thought it was worth noting down here. Helps me keep track of all the recipes I've dreamed up :D.

Ingredients:

2-3lbs chicken pieces pounded thin
1 very large onion
3 yellow bell peppers
3 c Monterey cheese grated
aprox 1c chopped cilantro
minced garlic
jalapeños
cumin
salt
pepper
butter
heavy cream
Tequila
Triple Sec
Lime juice
tortillas

Directions:

Chicken Marinade:

Combine 3tbs tequila, 1tbs Triple Sec, and 3tbs lime juice with 1tbs salt and a dash of coarse ground pepper and pour into a gallon ziplock bag with chicken pieces. I pounded my chicken out somewhat and pricked it over with a fork to help absorb the flavors. Let marinade for several hours before grilling and cutting into small cubes.

Filling:

Sautee pepper and onion together with a couple tbs minced garlic, 2tbs finely chopped jalapeños, a liberal sprinkling of cumin, and a dash each salt and pepper. Cook until tender. In a separate saucepan melt together 2c cheese with a splash of cream and 2tbs butter until you get a thick cheese sauce. Stir in cheese, chicken, and cilantro. Spoon mixture into tortillas and fold into tacos. Lay tacos overlapping in a greased casserole dish and sprinkle cheese over the middle.

Bake at 325 for 10-15min.

Makes about 8 thick tacos or probably 10 enchiladas.


P.S. usual caveat about measurements.

On the same note as below...........knickknack paddy whack

Let the carpets lie as they may I've been far more interested in fussing over the frivolities on my mantle piece than in the breeding habits of dust bunnies. I really should post pictures sometime when I get this place cleaned up enough to go on display. Over the past few weeks I've amassed a very modest collection of gewgaws, and I'm rather pleased at how they add to the place. It's really been quite fun. I've spent so much energy the past few months on practical and useful that I've enjoyed the chance to do a little pure decorating.

Organizing and decorating

My poor brain has been fluttering around with ideas for making things nice around here -so much in fact that I haven't been able to settle down to my normal chores and instead find myself flying off to Hobby Lobby, sales flier in hand, to track down some artificial flowers for the bathroom and hearth. Hardly a model of productivity! However yesterday while I was resolutely trying to complete something (tired+scatterbrained/=productive day) I did get the bathroom rather more organized that it's been in ages. I even threw out a vulgar plastic chest I received as part of a gift some years ago and in which I had been storing makeup and sundries. It's really funny how things come together. While I was looking for a new bag I came across some bathroom accessories that coordinated nicely (and actually looked nice themselves) with the odd brownish grayish mottled wallpaper in our bathroom and that matched the bag I was holding in my hand. I adore purple, but due to the various color combinations available to me when we got married I don't have anywhere in the apartment where purple really fits. But now I have my bathroom. There's purple flowers on the soap dispenser and toothbrush holder and my violet makeup bag on top of the cabinet, and just today I went out and bought some really nice purple and white artificial flowers and some ivy and twined them all in around each other with the flowers in a little jar filled with shells collected from here and there. Those are on the shelves over the toilet. Then there's another dish holding a candle surrounded by my prettiest beach findings sitting on the bathroom counter. All I want now is a tiny decorative rug to put down on the floor in front of the sink, and I think I will be perfectly happy with that room. It really is fun to put things together. I also think it makes it easier to keep up with things when they really look as though you'd put some thought and effort into arranging things.

Oh bother!

Since I keep hearing about the movie Wives and Daughters I decided to put it in our Netflix queue. Allen and I got about halfway through it and were putting in the other disc to watch one more chapter when we realized that they had sent us two copies of disc 1 leaving us with Molly crying on the stairs and us not having the faintest idea what would come next. Quite aggravating to be sure.
So far though both of are really enjoying it, and we've been having a wonderful time dissecting the characters and making predictions about what might happen later. I thought it might be too chick flick-ish for Allen, but he does read and enjoy Austen. Can't wait until Netflix sends us a replacement disc so we can keep watching.

foggy day in my head

After having three really great days I've crashed into a slump. My appetite has gotten all iffy, and my head is in a dull fog. Errg, this is not how I wanted to end this week. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

One pot mind

I'm sure some of you newlywed ladies from large families can relate. You start making soup and by the time you've added the spinach, zucchini, grated carrots, and those half dozen mushrooms left over from last night you find yourself with a brimming pot of soup more suitable to feeding your four brothers than you and your beloved. When I think soup and look at my pot I can't seem to get the proportions right for less than a full pot. Even when I set my sights determinedly at some point halfway up the side my hands go on their accustomed way until, lo! A soup fit for a dozen is simmering away on my stove top. Since it tends to be very good soup I can't really complain, but I'm afraid I must submit myself to the inevitable and admit that I have a one pot mind.

More on innocence

Re-reading my post and a couple of the comments posted on it I want to say that I fully recognize that what I wrote isn't by any means exhaustive on the subject. Just doing a brief word search of the Bible for the word "innocent" shows that it is used by many different people and in many different contexts. Even though I believe it's vitally important that we use words correctly I likewise affirm that words aren't static and unbending. They are imbued with nuances that can only be brought out by a full awareness of their contexts. I encourage anyone reading this who might have questions to do their own word search and study to draw their own conclusions as to how God uses this word.

Domestic garlic

I've just been in my kitchen mincing garlic and making Italian salad dressing with lots of pesto and fresh garlic.I feel so very domestic and housewifely knowing that my fridge now contains a green bottle of homemade salad dressing and a jar of fresh minced garlic preserved in olive oil.

Original Innocence?

Women will occasionally talk about the importance of protecting the "innocence" of their children -particularly their younger children. I've talked to Allen about this, and we both agree that theologically it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. If we want to locate this philosophy in the history of ideas we would shelve it near Rousseau and Blake and at least half a dozen rows to the left of Augustine. The Apostle Paul would be in an entirely separate wing. Delve into any number of writers from the Romantic Era and you'll see blithe depictions of innocent man in his infancy. The varying shades in which their souls are painted may vary from the innocuous gray of a blank slate having no original bent or aim and guided solely by impressions and experiences, or their souls might be covered in the glittering white of primeval innocence whose pristine surface is smudged only by the black soot of civilization. In either case man is felt to arrive in a state of innocence or at least neutrality regarding moral issues. Contrast this with Ps. 58:3. "The wicked are estranged from the womb;they go astray from birth, speaking lies." Consider also Roman 5:12. "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned." There are other verses of course, but these two make it pretty plain to me that, since we are sinful from birth, when we talk about the innocence of children we're really talking about something different than literal moral innocence. One of the things that emerged from my conversation with Allen is the idea that instead of protecting innocence we are training in innocence. How's that? Well indulge me a minute while I line up my axioms. 1. Christ being the perfect Son of God was innocent of all the charges brought against Him. 2. We have been clothed with Christ's righteousness, and 3. we are growing daily in the image of Christ (eg sanctification). Add to this a fourth premise that (4) we arrived on this earth already possessed of a fully functioning sin nature. The conclusion I draw from this is that it's the nature of the Gospel and the Christian life to grow more fully innocent the longer you live. Of course this is a different kind of innocence than the chasing after rainbows and puppy dogs sort that we associate with children, but I believe it's a Biblical definition.

The very best Pecan Pie ever

The only thing Allen requested for his homecoming was a pecan pie. I had been going to make one for our anniversary, but since we already had plenty of sweets from going out and nibbling on year old wedding cake he suggested I save it for when he came back. I got this recipe from Allen's mom, and it really is wonderful. If you have trouble finding the different sweeteners check your health food store or coop. Even though this is a "health food version" I think the real advantage of the succanat and brown rice syrup is that you get a much richer flavor that isn't too sweet.


Pecan Pie

Filling:

1 c brown rice syrup
1/2 c succanat (dehydrated cane juice)
1 stick butter
1 3/4 cup pecans coarsely chopped (toasted if you wish)
4 eggs
pinch salt
dash vanilla extract


In a small sauce pan melt together first three ingredients until succanat is dissolved. Lightly whisk eggs together, add the pecans, and slowly mix in the syrup (first making sure it's not hot enough to curdle the eggs). Add salt and vanilla and pour into an unbaked pie shell. Protect the edges with foil and bake for 15min at 425. Then remove the foil and bake for 20min at 350.

Allen's Home!!!

Allen was hailed up North last week to get together with some of his partners in programming (aka boss and coworkers). That left me all by my lonesome...or would have if it wasn't for the fact that Grandmom and Granddad (and my mother-in-law) urged me to come spend some time with them while Allen was away. It's still surprises me a bit how much Allen's family just plain old likes being around me. When they found out Allen was leaving for a week the general attitude among them amounted to "Hot diggity dog, we get Natalie all to ourselves for a while." Like I said, it still surprises me at times, but I surely do appreciate their kindnesses. It kept me from getting morbidly lonely while Allen was up in New England. I tell you, the moment I walked back into that apartment from dropping Allen off at the airport it felt like the very life had been sucked out of the place. It didn't feel right again until Allen came home Saturday evening.I'm so glad he's back.

Lemon Curd

Ok, someone (sorry I don't remember who) asked for my lemon curd recipe. I would have used Grandmom's recipe if I'd had a little more time, but this one was easy and good (and smaller). I think I added more lemon zest than the recipe actually called for since we're big lemon fans. Otherwise I followed the rules. We ate ours with lightly sweetened whipped cream.

Perfect Lemon Curd (from Allrecipes.com)


INGREDIENTS

* 3/4 cup fresh lemon juice
* 1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
* 3/4 cup sugar
* 3 eggs
* 1/2 cup unsalted butter, cubed

DIRECTIONS

1. In a 2 quart saucepan, combine lemon juice, lemon zest, sugar, eggs, and butter. Cook over medium-low heat until thick enough to hold marks from whisk, and first bubble appears on surface, about 6 minutes.

oh for a cottage in Maine

Every time I see a LL Bean Home catalog I wish I could do my place over in Maine cottage style. When I was young and single I actually used to design whole rooms out of LL Bean catalogs. Now that I'm older and married and don't have the privilege of imaginary bank accounts I look a bit more wistfully. Still, with a little luck and some spray paint I think I'll manage all right till hubby hits the bit time. I almost think I have more fun figuring out how to make inexpensive furniture stand in for really good stuff than I would just hitting the order button.

Anniversary Flowers

Our anniversary ended yesterday in roses. Beautiful things.




A blossom and its reflection from the trio my husband had waiting at the restaurant.




The top layer of our wedding cake sprinkled with flowers as it was a year ago.




Roses on the hearth...




and the table.




A lovely crystal bowl of blooms.




A tiny bunch for my bedside.

Happy first anniversary to us!

It's been one year today!

More GLH and other goodies

I've been puttering around on Ebay a fair bit for the past week or so. The result? Two vintage patterns (one with the duckiest neckline and sleeves) and several boxes of GLH paperbacks. I just got my first box in today which turned out to be a delightful mix of old favorites and new discoveries. I added up what I'd spent for all the books I'd bought on Ebay, and they came out to less than a dollar a piece including S&H. They're all paperbacks of course, but I don't mind spending a lot less money for a decent paperback. When all's said and done I know I'm going to end up with a few duplicates which I will hopefully remember to make available from here. If I forget then just throw pebbles at my window until I do.

Ok, I'm off to Daniel Deronda (Elliot, not GLH).

Festive meatloaf

Tonight's meatloaf was a hodgepodge of remembered tricks and impressions from Mom and Grandmom and recipes that I browsed through at Allrecipes.com. Since Allen ok'd it though I thought perhaps I'd share tonight's version. As always, measurements are estimates so go by your own instincts if you try this yourself.

Ingredients:

1-1 1/2lb ground beef
3 eggs
1 bulb garlic grated
1 can tomato paste
1 c rolled oats
1 large onion well chopped
1 green bell pepper well chopped.
1/2 basket of baby portobello mushrooms chopped
3-4 tbs finely chopped jalapeno peppers
1lb very sharp chedder cubed (about pea size)
generous splash Braggs Amino Acids (or soy/Worcestershire sauce)...about 2tbs
dash each tobasco and cayenne pepper (to taste)
salt and pepper.

(Since our beef is grass fed from my in-law's farm and tends to be extremely lean I added in a little grape seed oil to make sure things were moist and held together.)

Directions:

Chop, stir, grate, mix, pop in a pan, and bake on 350 for about an hour.

It turned out a little on the spicy side, but otherwise it was very moist and flavorful. Although I'll probably do some free handing off it in the future, I think this is going to be my basic meatloaf recipe. Little bit Mom, little bit Grandmom, all the way me.

A feast of no occasion

Today between tossing bits of chopped onion in a mixing bowl and getting the dishwasher ready to go I was struck by the sudden urge to whip up a little something extra that Allen would like. I really do have the dearest and wonderfulest of all husbands, and I decided to take advantage of my unexpected burst of energy and give him a treat. So I rushed out for some cream and eggs and a lemon, and while my meatloaf was baking I dashed off a batch of lemon curd that actually turned out pretty well considering it was my first attempt. This isn't anything I planned beforehand at all, but we ended up having quite a gay little feast. It helped that Allen had finished work by this time and could help me wrap a few loose ends in the kitchen. Then, while the veggies were steaming we whisked away the day's clutter in the living room, shut the door on the clothes waiting to be put away in the bedroom, and lit some candles over our little feast table. That meatloaf certainly did look nice sitting there with the candle light flickering over its dark, crumbly self, but the best part was us just sitting there together enjoying it and each other.It really wasn't anything too terribly special -just meatloaf and brown rice with steamed veggies. It didn't have to be though. Candles and lemon curd cooked on the spur of the moment and lovely heavy cream waiting in the fridge to be whipped up in delightful accompaniment and, above all, the warm impulse in each each of us to celebrate "just because" was more than enough to create a feast of no occasion. After dinner Allen stacked the dishes and got the movie started (perfect timing NetFlix) while I whipped the cream and got out the dessert things. Then we settled back with our curds and cream to watch a wonderfully fun Deana Durbin film and enjoy the last of our little impromptu celebration.

Times like these are one of the reasons I love being married to Allen. We've always enjoyed fun little things like this. I'd say that some of our visits to that little BBQ place outside Amicalola Falls SP counted as feasts of no occasion. The food wasn't fancy, but it was all it was supposed to be in the perfect place for it to be. It exactly suited the occasion, and we reveled in it. Then there was the time that Allen and I were sitting at the dinner table talking about how much we'd like to go back to the Melting Pot. I was particularly talking about how much I'd like some chocolate fondue. Then before I knew it we were running around improving a double boiler to melt the chocolate in and running off to buy chocolate and fixings. We put the chocolate in a pyrex dish which we kept warm by means of putting my steamer basket over a tea candle and setting the pyrex dish on top. Pop a Nero Wolf dvd in the computer and behold tradition unrolling before you. Now however we have a proper fondue pot which my mother-in-law rather laughingly thought we'd rather use than my upturned steamer basket.

Regular feasts are good. Fasting is good for time. Plain, simple meals that do the job and leave you satisfied are good and welcome. But it's such a delight and a blessing when for no reason at all you decide to spontaneously enjoy the thrill of being yourselves together in the palm of God's hand. It's good to pull the magic out of a meatloaf.

Rum in my tummy...I wish

It's not as though I even really averaged a drink per week, but every once in a while I chafe a little. I may sample varied cheeses at the grocery store or compare imported chocolate, but no more do I sip of Dionysus's cellars. It's aggravating when there are so many different tastes to be explored in all their various permutations and applications. For instance, what's the difference between good whiskey and bad whiskey or between whiskey and scotch? What do whiskey and scotch even taste like at all? And what of the wines I haven't sampled and the laced coffee drinks I haven't sipped? Oh I know that it's all for a better cause and that there will be time enough later for these things, but you must admit that between exploring the possibilities in a parsnip and those in a spiced rum it's not hard to see where the romance lies. For now though I suppose I will have to be content with cheese and chocolate (and perhaps parsnips), but be forewarned that I have several recipes for yummy rummy Christmas drinks, and I fully intent to use them.

Oceans of fun

When the Ocean's 11 remake came out I don't know how long ago I instantly dismissed it as being just another example of a brain-dead Hollywood mining the vaults for ideas to knock-off. Didn't bother to see it. Didn't want to see. Then, a little while back, I saw it. Tonight I just finished watching Ocean's 12. These movies are great. Really great. It's hard to describe without sounding like a raving movie critic who's just had one too many espressos, but plot intricacies aside the way these guys play it is delicious. It's really all the little quirks -the squabbles and quirky expressions and such- that make the movie so fun to watch. By the way, after watching this one I realized that my youngest brother-in-law looks a little bit like Matt Damon. Is that cool or what? Anyway, whoever is reading this seriously needs to get both movies and watch them. I can't speak for the latest installment, but since part of the conspiracy involved in getting me to watch this one was so that i could watch the 3rd one I suppose I'm going to be seeing that one sometime soon as well. Ooooh, I smell either a date night or a sibling get together in that one. Can't wait.

Mamaw and Aunt Kathy

Today while I was tidying the bedroom I found an envelop containing a piece of lace given to me Aunt Kathy. Allen and I got the chance to go down and visit her while she was visiting her sister Mamaw. That makes her Allen's great-aunt really, but we just call her Aunt Kathy. We stopped for some Zaxby's chicken on the way down, and Mamaw had biscuits and beans and watermelon waiting for us when we got there. They'd actually been expecting us for lunch which ended up being kind of funny in and of itself. They're farm girls from Sand Mountain, and dinner to them meant the midday meal. Since I tend to use dinner and supper interchangeably I thought I was telling them we would come for supper not remembering that dinner and supper are two different things to many people.

Anyway, that week was pretty rushed for us, but I'm so glad that we drove down to see them. In between eating and playing cards we ended up getting a fair bit of family history. They told us odd little things about growing up on Sand Mountain like how their mom would have little sweet potatoes baked and ready for them when they got home from school. The funniest thing was them talking about a card game they used to play called King on the Corner. Apparently four of them (Mamaw, Kathy, Phoebe, and Lina) used to play it quite a lot. We found some cards to play with, but they couldn't quite remember the rules. Between them calling Phoebe and Lina and Allen calling his dad we finally came up with some sort of rules. I think it a grandma thing to be glad when a card is played that you can't use. When I asked Aunt Kathy why she was glad I'd played a king when she couldn't use it she said "Well maybe it'll do somebody some good." Sounds a lot like how my Grandma would talk while we were playing games when I was little. Allen (the rascal) ended up winning both games.

Right before we left they started pulling out family pictures. My own family doesn't have a whole lot of pictures of grandparents and things when they were young. Mamaw and Aunt Cathy however have a pictures of their parents and even a picture of one set of their grandparents. Just from looking at them you could tell they had hard lives and that these were people accustomed to work and plenty of it. That couldn't be all there was to them though. Looking at Mamaw and Aunt Cathy and my father-in-law's family you can see that these people of work left a goodly heritage to the generation. There were other pictures too. One of their two brothers in military uniform and another of all the sisters (seven I believe). When we drove off down the dirt road toward the highway we (I) had been blessed more than we could have imagined. Not only had we come closer to our heritage we'd seen again that it is a goodly and godly heritage. The women we left behind had already lived long lives and been through difficult times, and they could say with calm certainty that God's ways are best. It wasn't a big part of our conversation, but I distinctly remember those two dear, gray haired farm girls telling us to trust God and He would work everything out.

I was especially touched by Aunt Kathy's present. I'd post a picture if I had one. It's really just a small rectangular piece of ivoried lace from around WWII. Aunt Kathy told me that it'd been trimmed out of larger piece and that her mother-in-law had done the tiny hem stitching around the edges. The part that really blessed me though is that Aunt Kathy said she wanted to leave me something to remember her by. I'd only met her once before at a family reunion. It never occurred to me that she would love me or want to be remembered by me. But that's really just the way Allen's family is. They welcome you in and love you like you wouldn't expect, and if we hadn't gone down there I wouldn't had known how large and loving and wonderful my family really is.

Childish pleasures

I have a presentable apartment excepting only the back bedroom of which we will not speak. I know I probably appear to shout out the tiniest domestic task as if I'd toppled a Hercules. I guess it's just that I'm starting to (trying to) really not despise the day of small things. I have a tendency to look at every task I've completed and say that I should have done it better, sooner, faster, something. I've very rarely afforded myself the pure pleasure of being satisfied the task I've completed. Even now part of my brain screams out to be discontented with what the work I just did. My defense against this discontent is to be childishly happy at every dish washed and every shirt folded. We have been called to be as children, and so I endeavor to take a child's pleasure in my tasks.

Note to self on being tired

Dear Natalie,

When you haven't any coffee in the house (and your darling husband doesn't want you drinking it right now anyway) and you didn't get enough sleep and didn't get the jump on the day that you so very much wanted/needed there's no reason to a. get mopey, or b. worry about it. Drink some water. Pour yourself a glass of chocolate milk, and get on with your life.

Love, Natalie

P.S. make sure you write those notes for Ron Paul this weekend. You promised.

GO Ron GO!

P.P.S maybe you should go look at Ecclesiastes again. Sounds like you could use the encouragement.

small victories in the kitchen

One way or t' other Allen and I got into very bad habits about the dishes. Oh the nonchalance with which we stacked them blithely in and around the sink, and oh the sad resignation with which we set our faces grimly towards that stack and vowed to conquer. Last night though despite my aching heels and our own weariness we went into the kitchen as one and rinsed and wiped and stowed and stacked and swept that kitchen into rather good order. One of the jolliest things about the task is that since we'd done the same the evening prior there were only the nights dishes and a few sundries to tend to and not some ghastly pile to strike terror into our weary souls. It's a small thing to be sure, but small things need doing as well as large.

Now if only I vacuum the living room and take a whisk round the bathroom, I'll be doing rather well. The bedroom needs picking up, but that can wait till tomorrow if it needs to.

have hammer will bang things

No I didn't just babysit a little toddling boy. I put together some box-ish shelf things, and glory or glory the instructions directed me to nail the little faux wood cardboard backing in place. I hadn't had an excuse to swing a hammer in probably a year, and (although swing is undoubtedly too grand a term to describe the pecks necessary to penetrate that almost wood) I enjoyed every minute of it.

the ongoing storage sage

A while back I mentioned that in converting our apartment from a one bedroom with den to a two bedroom they managed to leave out an entire closet. Also, I don't have quite as much cabinet space at I had previously. Sooo, I've been trying to scrounge out storage wherever I can. My latest addition is a small shelf unit that goes under the pass through between the kitchen and the dining area. In order to get something small enough I had to get some of though little bang up pre-fab box units that you can stack together. It works pretty well. It's small enough to be unobtrusive which considering it's lowly origins is a definite bonus. It's also sufficiently sturdy, but that's about as much praise as it deserves. The corners don't all meet, and the finish is glaringly thin and laminated, but it does the job I require of it. Some of it's flaws can hopefully be mended by the addition of a longish table runner draped over the top and sides. I've yet to completely organize it, but I plan to move all or most of my drinking glasses, table sundries (napkins, salt, etc), and the our two gallon filtered water container to the top and fill most of the rest with the herbs we take and possible some cookbooks or the like. That should clear up some space in both the kitchen and the bathroom and declutter my table and the pass through window sill.

And then they took my radio -ShantyRaidio that is

I never mentioned it here before, but I play this immensely fun on-line game called Puzzle Pirates. Allen got me started on it, and now it's one of my primary time wasters. In some ways it really is a community. A whole web of player sites (of which I know only a part) has sprung up around the game. One of them was a radio station run by some players that played a mix of folk, celtic, piratey, and pretty much anything involving a sailor, ship, or ocean with a little modern thrown in for good measure. Most of it was just plain fun music -some tender, some bawdy, some witty, some raucous. It was the music that played to an odd little loosely bound community. But now it's threatened. Ultimately it's a property rights issue. We are not said to own what we purchase. It's not so much different with our real property. We pay must pay property taxes, and for the privilege the government tells us what we may and may not do with it.Shanty Raidio is a little thing, but it's a little thing that I enjoyed. When it seems that so many dear things I love are threatened the loss of even the smallest cannot be viewed with equanimity.

Highbury dancing

It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. Instances have been known of young people passing many, many months successively without being at any ball of any descrption, and no materal injury accrue either to body or mind; but when a beginning is made--when the felicities of rapid motion have once been, though slightly, felt--it must be a very heavy set that doesn't ask for more.

Emma, by Jane Austen

American and proud of it.

Even as our country steams ahead past the "bridge out" sign, I find reasons to be proud. Bridges can be rebuilt. Trains can be stopped. I am an American, and I fight for my heritage.





GO USA!

Happiness

Today happiness is a bowl of cheesy grits, a clean sink, Luis Armstrong on the cd player, and a Jane Austen novel just waiting to be read.

hope in small places

Allen sort of stepped on my glasses while I was taking a nap this ...morning? Afternoon? I'm not exactly sure. (laugh) Since they were rather bent and not exactly comfortable to wear he went out to the car to look for my old pair that I'd stashed out there a few months ago. He came back inside with a small box he'd found in the glove box. Closing his fingers over something in the box he placed in my hand a pair of simple pearl earrings that my dad had given me some years back and that I had given up for lost. They were in that box because for my last birthday Allen had taken me to a little store which sold some pretty amber jewelry I'd admired and told me to pick out a pair of pretty earrings. I had been wearing my pearls that day but had slipped them into that little box when I put on my birthday earrings. Before today I'd rather sadly given up my pearls as a lost cause -beyond hope or recall. Yet again God reminds me that nothing is beyond hope, and nothing is beyond His attention. The message could not be more plain. "Hope where you see no hope, Natalie, for God is working in ways too small and too grand for you to imagine."

Overflowing with need

I found this on Doug Wilson's Blog and Mablog, and it encouraged me so much I had to post it here.

Father and God over all, we gather before You to honor Your name, and so that You might bless us, Your people, as we seek to honor Your name.

We come before You as an empty people, but we come in order to overflow. We pray that You would perform this miracle, as You have done so many times before. How can we be the fullness of Your Son, the one who fills everything in every way? Nevertheless, Your gospel has accomplished this, and we pray that You would continue to perform this wonder. We would be the widow’s cruse of oil, empty and overflowing. We thank You for receiving us.

What a blessing to be reminded that God is fully willing and able to take my pitiful little obediences and gropings towards faithfulness and make them abounding affirmations of God's love for His children. There's a verse that my husband often says, and I'm probably going to misquote it badly. It says, "Know then that God is able to make all grace abound to you so that at all times and in all things you will abound in every good work." How gracious is our Father to us. I am little and fast emptied, but God is full and ever pouring.

Wow! and Wow! Is this guy for real?

I've been poking around lewrockwell.com this evening, and I couldn't resist posting this except from a piece Ron Paul wrote back in 2003. It's not often a politician says exactly what I've been thinking.

The Founding Fathers envisioned a robustly Christian yet religiously tolerant America, with churches serving as vital institutions that would eclipse the state in importance. Throughout our nation’s history, churches have done what no government can ever do, namely teach morality and civility. Moral and civil individuals are largely governed by their own sense of right and wrong, and hence have little need for external government. This is the real reason the collectivist Left hates religion: Churches as institutions compete with the state for the people’s allegiance, and many devout people put their faith in God before their faith in the state. Knowing this, the secularists wage an ongoing war against religion, chipping away bit by bit at our nation’s Christian heritage. Christmas itself may soon be a casualty of that war.

I only posted this quote from the end of his article, but you can read the rest of it here.

Linguistic antics in the linen closet

Laundry is that which I need to do.

To do laundry is that which I need.

Is that which I need to do laundry?

I need to do laundry.

And now for something completely different...

Some things just go well with BBQ

Like planning on how we're going to pull off the election of the century. We just went to a Ron Paul meet up that met at a local Jim 'n Nicks. Good food, and I was really encouraged to see a room full of people who actually care about the constitution and the economy and all those really important things that get buried under the political posturing that passes for campaigning these days. Now let me say right up front that I don't believe for one moment that Ron Paul is the last hope for the U.S or the salvation of our country's future or any other such outlandish thing. Hope and salvation rest in the Lord alone. However, I think the very fact that Ron Paul is running for president means that there is hope. Our back are against the wall. Almost no one knows or cares about the Constitution today. We have nothing to lose here. If all we do is get a few more people to think about the real meaning of liberty then we'll have done more than Hilary or Obama or Huckabee or Thompson or just about any other politician in recent times has done. We hear so often that our liberties are being threatened, but no one seems prepared to actually do anything about it. Nearly everything they do (the Patriot Act, Real ID, etc) to "protect" us only ends up stripping down our liberties and, not so incidentally, our bank accounts.

The other thing that I'm excited about is the fact that my husband is really getting excited about a candidate. Ron Paul is the man Allen said he'd vote for when he caught flack for not voting for Bush way back in the day. I've voted for a couple of years now, but this is the first time I've really gotten grass roots involved in a presidential campaign. It really feels good. I'm not sure what we're all going to do right now, but whatever we do it's good to finally feel like I'm on the right side. I voted for Bush myself in the last election, but it's not something I really felt proud of at the time. I did what was expected of me. Now I'm glad to part of something that I can actually get behind.

If any of y'all are interested in reading more about him just go click on the link at the top of the sidebar. Check out his voting record, and compare him to the other candidates. Freedom is a more complicated business than slavery, but few people think the freedman is worse off than the slave.

I'm sleepy (yawn)

I know I haven't been writing that much lately and not that much of any real interest too boot. Guess I'm just going through a dry spell. Or a boring one. I eat, sleep, check my e-mail, read, putter around the apartment...it's honestly not that interesting. Last night we did go to the mall to walk around a bit, however we stayed up too late (again). Allen was working on his parser, and I was distracted, and it just plain old got late on us. It's been happening quite a lot lately. It doesn't help that I don't like to go to bed by myself. That king size bed is awfully big and awfully lonely without someone to snuggle up to : ) However, last night after we finally did go to bed I didn't actually sleep all that well, and I couldn't even sleep in late because my stomach was giving me those fierce little "feed me" sensations! Unless I get a nap later I doubt I'm going to be good for too very much today, which is a pity because I haven't been good a whole lot this entire week! Ah the joys of being me.

Blame it on my honeymoon....

The first movie Allen and I watched together after we got married was Bride and Prejudice. We flipped a coin, and I won. (We'd rented several movies.) So...snuggled up together in the all embracing expanse of our cabin's cozy couch I received my first introduction to Bollywood. Some months later while probing around Youtube I found this fascinating little video. The music is lighthearted, and a couple of the dresses she wears are absolute dreams. Enjoy!

Some verses I've been pondering..

These few verses from Isaiah 66 have been particularly stuck in my head the past few days. I'm sure it's obvious why.

7 “Before she was in labor
she gave birth;
before her pain came upon her
she delivered a son.
8 Who has heard such a thing?
Who has seen such things?
Shall a land be born in one day?
Shall a nation be brought forth in one moment?
For as soon as Zion was in labor
she brought forth her children.
9 Shall I bring to the point of birth and not cause to bring forth?”
says the Lord;
“shall I, who cause to bring forth, shut the womb?”
says your God.

My lovely box of books

An online friend recently sent me a lovely box full of Grace Livingston Hill paperbacks, and I've spent the better part of this afternoon happily occupied with one. You likely won't find her name in the list of great authoresses, and to be sure reading too many in a row is rather like eating a box of chocolates by yourself. However, they are delightfully innocent books with a great deal of charm and thoroughly enjoyable all around.

change in comments

Hi all!

For now anonymous comments have been disabled. I know that might be a pain for those of you who don't have a blogger account, but some of my anonymous comments have gotten increasingly worrisome. I don't mean in the "you know I really don't agree with you" way but in a "who are you and how do you know that?" way. It's not really a big deal. Nobody is telling what I'm wearing or what I ate at a particular restaurant last week. However....it is a little creepy. Sorry for the inconvenience. Hopefully later I can switch things back.

God bless!

Now this is really worth reading

Vox Day has an interview with Ron Paul up on his blog that everyone really needs to read -especially if you haven't heard much about Ron Paul before. This is the anti-abortion, pro-border control, REPEAL INCOME TAX, and stridently pro-constitution presidential candidate that not enough people are talking about. No, my little homemaker blog isn't about to go political, but this man is really worth a second and third look. Please, please, please go check out this interview and give this man a little consideration.

bet you never would have guessed...

Ok, it's past my bed time but reading Vox Day's post on women and tattoos reminded me of something. No, I don't have, want to have, or ever intend to get a tattoo. They hurt, and by the time you're 50 they look really, really lame. So what is it? I have this tiny little desire to get my nose pierced. Not a ring or anything. Just a tiny little flat stud on the side of one of my nostrils. I've seen a couple of women with them, and I think they're kind of interesting and attractive. However, there's a million reasons why that's not ever going to happen -number 1 of which is that it hurts, and I don't even like to get blood drawn. Also, I'm not so sure about the message that sends. It's really not very Audrey Hepburn-esque, and it's probably not the first thing many people associate with "nice Christian woman." But you ever see me with a tiny gold fleck on the side of my nose you'll know I've up and glued on a sequin for the afternoon just to see everyone's faces. Yeah, more than some of you wanted to know : )


P.S. I suppose maybe I should apologize for my comment about tattoos above since I've talked to so many who have them. I really, really hope that didn't come across as judgmental. However I have seen a few older tattoos (mostly the large ones) that didn't really fare well with age. Anyway, no offense intended, and I hope none taken.

Yes, my parents are wonderful

I'm so grateful that people can tell from my blog that I have great parents. From the time I was born my mom stayed home to raise all five of us. She's also homeschooled us all (that's no small feat!). I was homeschooled k-12 as were and will be all the others. Plus, all three of us that she's graduated earned college scholarships. That's certainly a record to be proud of, but on top of that she's good at baking, gardening, sewing, playing games, dancing, taking care of sick kids, and a bunch of other great mommy/housewife skills. Oh, yeah, and she can negotiate the shirt off a salesman's back. She's pretty sharp.

Now my dad's no slouch either. He went back to school before the 3rd was born and stayed in until sometime around the 5th was born to get his CPA so he could get a job that would actually feed us all. But he's no desk jockey. My dad can water ski, shoot, build fences, remodel a kitchen, fix cars, play baseball, and that's just the short list. When his boss sent him and a bunch of other employees to self-defense training he blew everyone away by being the office guy (my dad even looks like an accountant) who could actually shoot and drive. He overcame a lot to get where he is today.

Both my parents are a lot of fun to be around. They were pretty regular about making time to play games with us and such. Of course that doesn't even begin to cover all the fun we had camping together. I've been as far north as Prince Edward's Island, Canada and as far west as Zion National Park. I've seen the sun set over both rims of the Grand Canyon and all the Great Lakes. Not bad for a little Alabama girl. We had such fun on those trips. There were plenty of times when all us kids would hole up on the back bed and play with all our dolls and stuffed animals. One time we were waving to the truckers with our dolls, and they kept honking as they passed and unnerving Dad 'cause he didn't know what they were all honking about. So we had to stop. I also remember driving through towns and across deserts while building things with our huge box of legos or playing endless rounds of gin rummy and squeak and old maid. I have a lot of good memories of my parents. However, that does not mean that I can't be honest about who I am and where I come from. My parents are wonderful people who taught me much more than how to read and do laundry, but I don't have to pretend that they were perfect in raising me and that everything they did was right. The Bible says that the truth will set you free. In order to see and speak and walk in the truth I've had to reject some bad habits and ways of thinking that came out of my experiences at home. This is different from rejecting my parents and even from disrespecting them. If this makes you uncomfortable that's ok. It made me uncomfortable at first, but if I'm going to run this race I need to know where my feet are.

Happy 100th Post to Me!

The rather discursive post below happens to be my 100th post on this blog, and I thought the milestone mildly worthy of note. No there's no prize for being here for this un-momentous event, but pop back in around the 500th post and maybe I'll hold a drawing for.....something? We'll have to see. I think my crafting skills could be roused to produce something suitable.

Thank you, dear friends for stopping by here. I sincerely enjoy the fellowship. By the way, if you'd care to be added to my list of neighborhood blogs post a comment with your url. I love having new friends to visit.

thinking things out

Earlier this evening I had been having some contractions at about 5min intervals. Since I'd been disappointed in the past I didn't want to make a big deal about anything, but I finally went and told Allen about them. In 10 min they were completely gone. I suppose if it was really the real thing they wouldn't have left, but I ended up really kicking myself about it. Allen muscle tested to see if we could figure out what had made them stop so suddenly and best we could tell it was anxiety on my part. Yeah, I know. Labor waits for no woman, and if anxiety kept women from going into labor there would be a lot more teenagers in utero. Still, sometimes it's seemed that it's been all I could do to keep going and then (bang!) I slip up and things completely stall out. Frustrating in the extreme. Of course I feel like God's getting after me for not being perfect, and Allen's telling me that's not the case 'cause God doesn't work like that, and he and I both are just getting more and more frustrated with each other and ourselves. So I'm ready literally drop everything (here, Allen, you be pregnant for a while) and go curl up in the closet somewhere until it's all over when he reminds me that we've got the baby to consider.....It's a huge fat mess.

Growing up things were simple. It was all your fault (no, really, apologizing won't help), and it just sort of stayed your fault just cause that was your purpose in life. I spent more than a few months just sort of being a walking zombie from the sheer, hopeless weight of all of it. But now I'm supposed to screw up, confess, and get on with my life without going through the whole "I feel like pond scum" thing. Right -not what I learned. So it's my stupid fault for being anxious and stalling things, but it's not my responsibility to make sure things work ok?????? Actually that does kind of make sense if I turn my head sideways and forget most of what I ever learned about God (whole also sort of existed to make my life miserable). It's pathetic I know, but there are plenty of times when I still revert to "God exists to stomp on idiots like me who can't keep their act together" mode. Allen tried to give me an analogy about if your mom tells you not to touch the stove and you do anyway and you get burned are you going to yell at your mom for letting you get burned. Well no. But that just meant that it was my fault for getting upset about something that was my fault to begin with. So now I'm doubly in trouble, and this is getting me no closer to actually going into labor.

The really pathetic thing is that in some ways I'd really rather God be mean than good. If He's just mean and arbitrary then it's all poor me, and I really needn't even bother trying 'cause God's going to get me for it anyhow. In other words -no responsibility. On top of that it's habit. It's the way I'm used to responding to messing up. Ok, so I'm getting better about somethings, but it's still a very familiar response. It doesn't even upset me really. When I start following that same old path I didn't start bawling or anything. When you're just one huge conglomeration of screw-ups tears don't really mean anything. It's just sort of who you are. Except I've been around Allen and his family long enough to mostly realize that there's a whole lot more to me than that, but I digress. I know the truth is that God is good and that He's not just waiting to blast me, but that still doesn't fit in with the rest of things very well. In some ways I really don't know how to live around that assumption. I do something wrong, and something I didn't want to happen happens, and I don't always think "Ooop, sorry God. I shouldn't have done that" and then get on with my life. Instead, there are plenty of time when I just sort of....wallow. It's a sad mix of pity and self-condemnation and God with a lightning bolt kind of thinking that tends to take over. At that point I don't really even feel anything -don't want to feel anything. The horrible thing is that so many times I'm not even sure how to break out of it. I don't want any happy clappy "ok, well God is good, so stop feeling that way" paste on a fake smile kind of answer. I don't want to skip ahead to the end of the story without going through the middle, but on the other hand I don't want to reread chapter 12 seven times in order to avoid the ending. I don't know if that even makes sense to anyone but me. I guess I just want to come by my resolutions honestly. I don't want to stuff my emotions or say the right words and not work through what I'm really thinking and feeling. I guess I just don't know how to balance the two. I guess there's a lot I don't know. For everyone's sake though I need to try. It's just so hard for me to reconcile in my mind that I am responsible for how I think and take care of my body and that God is responsible for making things work. I believe that's correct, but it completely contradicts every impulse in my body and brain. Growing up it was all your fault. God did bless and answer prayers (at least hypothetically), but mostly He was the one with a list of reasons not to bless you. After having spent around 22yrs hearing that kind of thinking and only maybe 2-3 hearing anything else I still wrestle with all this -especially on moral issues. I'm getting better about not beating myself up for not getting the laundry done on a particular day, but when it some to stuff like worry and hurting Allen and stuff that affects the baby it really tears me up, and lots of times I revert right back to habit with the added bonus of being to further beat myself up for reverting back to said habit.

Well I guess maybe I need to head back to bed. I got back up because I needed some space to calm down and think through some of this. Hopefully things will get better soon, and hopefully labor will kick in soon.

Happy Birthday Granddad

He has lived to see his children's children, and I fully expect him to see his children's children's children and possibly even further than that. Surely God has blessed him and blessed us through him.

bored

I'm bored. I have an apartment to vacuum and pick up (not much thank God). Sewing I could be doing (and a sewing space to tidy), and I'm sitting here without an interest in the world in doing anything worth doing. Ok, so I want to run to Hancock's, but that will only add to the things I have to do : P Oh, the dishwasher needs emptying as well.

At least I have Elliot and Armstrong on my cd player. I really need to get some more of those guys.

Ok, boredom aside. I'm gonna go and get my bedroom straight. Actually bedroom, living room, vacuuming shouldn't take more than half an hour. Better get to it so it will be done.

Oh yeah, I'm also due today. They say only %5 of babies are born on their due date, but considering how strange this pregnancy has been all bets are currently off. Come on Baby!

I am not irreplaceable (and that's a good thing)

During the past few months I've started to realize that some of my scrabbling around the internet has been prompted by a desire to find some place that "needs" my comments and presence. Really, there's no such place. Even in in real life there's no place that wouldn't survive without me. A woman before 20-something weeks gestation is about as irreplaceable as it's possible to get. Does this mean that my husband and family don't need me? Of course not. But I'm not God to be irreplaceable in their lives. God is not optional. I am. This might sound bleak and harsh even though really it's just the opposite. Grasping at relationships and searching for personal significance in the comments section to a particular blog is suffocating, strangling, and life-wasting for myself and whoever I happen to be around. Learning to accept that I can be a true blessing in other people's lives without being absolutely essential to their lives and well being is freeing and life-affirming.....and really scary. If I'm not irreplaceable then I can, by definition, be replaced. If I can be replaced that means I might be replaced and that it might even be better if I was replaced. For anyone who's ever dealt with feeling/being rejected or has some lingering fear of rejection the idea of being replaceable is a pretty scary one. Sometimes it's so easy to jump in our minds from "can be replaced" to "will be replaced" even when we know rationally that it's very unlikely. Ultimately, as I mentioned above, the need to be irreplaceable is really a push to co-opt God's place in our relationships with other people since God is the sole originator of life and goodness. Yet in our drive to be needed beyond the possibility of rejection we demand people pay us the homage they owe God and in our hubris pretend that we are essential to the other person's life and happiness. As much as I would like to go gently on this because of the deep wounds that lead many of us here honesty compels me to plainly say that no matter the road that lead you here, if you are acting this way then you are in capitol letter SIN. Your wounds may be deep and your healing slow, but sin will not staunch your (or my) wounds for long. What does all this mean? In the end it means surrendering to trust. It means actually truly believing my husband when he says that he loves me more than anything else in the world and wouldn't trade me for anything he could name. It means looking my fears of rejection square in the eye and telling them where to exit is. It means rejoicing that God is God and that I am a little sparrow in the Kingdom of Heaven. Trust is the key. More than simply being trusting though this requires trust in God that even when your trust in other people leads to betrayal and pain that God is taking care of you. Even as we can't be God to other people we can't let them be God to us. Their betrayal will not kill us or take something essential away from us so long as we hold to God's sufficiency above all. As Jesus said, "Even a sparrow cannot fall to the ground apart from my Father's knowledge, and you are worth more than many sparrows." Let us confess our need to play God and admit to one another that we are not irreplaceable and that it's a good thing.

searching for significance

While at a family reunion of my father-in-law's family one of my brother's-in-law asked me, "So, what have you been up to lately?" A simple question but it left my head spinning over the past few weeks looking for a remotely interesting answer. "Nothing much," I answered. He's an engineering student with a job at Thompson Tractor who just got back from an engineering competition in South Dakota and who converses well on a number of subjects that fly right over my head (and occasionally my interest). You should hear him and Allen discussing things. In a way he's doing all the things that I was taught to consider valuable -getting his degree, impressing his boss, etc. Nowadays (when I'm not in a slump) I spend a good bit of my day picking up the apartment, cleaning, cooking, buying groceries and sundries, planning out ways to get more storage out of our limited closet and wall space, wandering around the internet, working on little sewing/craft projects, reading, etc. In other words, on a good day I do a myriad of things (including those things that really don't have much interest even for me) and who's only goal in the doing is to not be doing them as quickly as possible. In many ways this isn't work that I was taught to value. However, going to college and becoming something important was valued. Another part of my discontent with my work is likely that at home any work I did was considered a bare minimum. Getting straight A's through college (except for one B) was the bare minimum. Coming home and working on laundry or picking up the bathroom or helping in the kitchen was the bare minimum. In other words, a good grade or a clean bathroom was no reason to get excited because I merely did what was expected of me, and I'd immediately be faced the task of trying (and occasionally failing) to meet their expectations again. The point is that by training and possibly even inclination I tend to view even the best day's work at little better than what had to be done and something that probably should have been done yesterday. Until I can break out of this cycle of thinking about my own work as a housewife I think I'll likely be stuck in a cycle of dissatisfaction and disinclination with and for the work I do everyday. It's not that what I do has no meaning; it's just that I'm searching for the proper meaning to it. I'm searching for the significance of a floor vacuumed and laundry folded. I can't say that I've found it yet, but at least I know what I looking for now. And as I get better as tending to my responsibilities I'm sure the scope of them will enlarge, and I'll find it easier to answer my brother-in-law's question with a satisfied, "Well, when I haven't been chasing a toddler and tending the baby and generally keeping up the house I've been poking at x, and it's been a really good week."

Sad news

I just found out that one of my former professors died two months ago. I'll put up a more fitting tribute to him when I'm better able to write coherently. Since he taught me to write I need to make it good, and that won't be easy. I won't be able to make you know the scholar and poet and writer and mentor that I knew, but at least I can try. His memory deserves no less.

on anxiety

I confess that I've been rather anxious about how things have been going. Am I resting enough? Am I resting too much? Should I bounce on the rebounder or go for a walk? Are there any herbs I should be taking? Are there any I'm taking that I shouldn't be? Am I believing God the way I should be? Should I be praying about things more? If I squinted my right eye and hopped on my left foot while twiddling my thumbs would that make the baby come any sooner?

Sooooooo, here goes. Be anxious for nothing but in everything with prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Having prayed with thanksgiving, making my requests know to God I confess that the peace of God which passes all understanding does in fact guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus. Where this peace is there can be no anxiety. I furthermore confess that the love of God, being poured out on, in, and through me, does drive out all fear in my life. Because I am filled with God's love there is no room for fear within me no matter what I might otherwise be tempted to think. When I am tempted to fear I need to remember that God has not given me a spirit of fear but of power and love and a sound mind. Any spirit of fear that tries to distract me does not come from God. Instead of fear I have power, love, and sound mind. Because of the Word of God in my life I am not now nor will become anxious about when labor will start or how it will go or anything else connected to giving birth. I will instead rest in God's peace and trust Him for the outcome.

This I declare and confess.

how not to address someone

I just received an anonymous comment from a woman who signed herself "a sister in Christ" and who proceeded to rebuke me for sins she believes me to have committed. However, that post isn't going to be posted or responded to until at the very least I get a name to go with it. The Bible says that if we have problem with someone we are to go to that person and address them directly and privately. The Bible also says someone can't be convicted save on agreeing testimony from 2 or 3 reliable witnesses. Since this person may not have means of coming to me privately (this is the internet after all), that part of things doesn't really bother me. What is completely inappropriate (and unbiblical) is for her to expect me to answer or even seriously consider her charges without knowing who has accused me.

Dancing in my living room

Back when Allen and I actually had to find/make opportunities to see each other we used to go dancing every Thursday night at a local university. Those lovely evenings in the gym spent swinging our way around the floor are among my dearest memories....But then we got married and moved to a place where every week the local swing dance association held a dance within walking distance of our apartment only to find that grad school left me little time for dancing and being married actually took away some of our reasons for going dancing in the first place. So we just sort of stopped going. Then we moved back to whence we first came, but in starting our new routine there were some things we just never picked back up.

This evening I was banging about rather aimlessly back in our computer/sewing room, when I finally looked up at Allen and said "Let's go dance in the living room." We still remember how to dance and how to have fun doing it. I will admit that now I can snuggle up to him all night every night dancing doesn't make the same little shivers run tingling along my spine, but it brings back all the memories of the times when it did. Now, the sharp awareness of not belonging has been exchanged for the equally heady warmth of belonging. It strikes me that we learned to dance together while we very aware of just how much we didn't belong to each other. Perhaps we need to learn to dance as though we do belong together and didn't merely hope to one day. We do finally have a living room big enough... I didn't realize marriage changed everything so much.

Well, I think I actually woke up

My body must be so out of whack because I got a second wind last night at about 12:00 and kept going until 4:00 (yes, am). Then I slept until noon, and now I'm feeling fairly awake. I really feel better when I get on a more regular sleep schedule of being in bed by 11:00 and then getting up in the morning. I know my liver would be be a lot happier. I was awake when my liver wanted me to be asleep so it could clean out in peace, and gracious did it pitch a fit about me staying up! I felt like I had a stitch in my side almost. I took some milk thistle and drank some herbal tea to soothe it, but I really need to get to bed earlier tonight. Ummm, what am I talking about? Your body has certain natural rhythms of working, cleaning, and resting. Often your body cleans out while you're asleep and not taxing it by trying to stay awake and get your million and a half things done. The liver cleans out sometime around 12 or 1 am I believe. Yawn. Did I say I was awake. That must have been wishful thinking. Whatever, I need to jump on the mini-tramp and take my herbs for the day. Maybe that will help. Since I've been gently contracting since Sunday night I don't think this is a good time for me to get exhausted. I don't know if that will absolutely keep my contrax from getting stronger or what, but either way I can't say that being sleep deprived helps anything. Ok, nevermind about the title of this post. I'm gonna take a cat nap.

When the lion roars

Throughout this pregnancy I've lived with the roar of the one who roams the earth seeking those he might devour echoing in my ears. It's taken me a while to learn how to respond to that sound, but with God's grace I'm getting better. Hear now the Word of the Lord!

For God has not given me a spirit of fear but of power and of love and a sound mind.

I do not have a spirit of fear. The roars of the enemy are calls to battle and not to fear. Instead of fear I have a spirit of power -power over the lies of Satan and the snares of the enemy, power to reject fear and stand on Christ's victory, power to take my thoughts captive and not be led astray. I have a spirit of love which leaves no room for fear in my life. The love of God is my life's breath and because of it I can love all around me. Love frees me from the paralysis of fear and gives me the strength and joy to endure until tomorrow. I have a sound mind that I can stand firm on the promises of God and not fear that they are too grand or good for me. I do not fear what other people may say about me because I trust in the promise that God is present in my thoughts and decisions and leads me in wisdom and righteousness. Because I have a sound mind I do not have to second guess my motivations and actions. Instead I trust in the power of God to call me to repentance. I repent as God leads me, and I refuse to worry about the rest.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.

Because Christ's blood covers me and His righteousness has been imputed to me by grace I cannot be condemned. Though I may struggle and sin I stand justified before my most holy God because of the redeeming sacrifice of Christ on my behalf. As a member of Christ's glorious bride the Church I have been set apart for Him, and nothing will separate me from the love of God. There is no charge that can be brought against me that would make me stand condemned before the God of the universe. Let men call me a drunkard, a glutton, a liar, a fool, a blasphemer or any number of things. Let men cast all kinds of aspersions on my name and speak all manner of things against me. I am innocent before God.

For Christ is faithful and just to purify us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

My sinfulness does not stand between me and God because He is faithful in drawing me to Himself. Because Christ is faithful I do not have to worry about my own sins. In His own time and by His own means He is leading me to righteousness. Likewise, since the cleansing is of Christ and not my own effort I do not have to obsess over my own faults.

This I confess.

anonymous comments

I've had a few anonymous comments as some of you may have seen. I deliberately set up my blog so you don't have to have a blogger account to comment, but please have the courtesy to leave a brief identification. It's one thing if you forget, but it's a bit aggravating to continually have someone (I assume it's the same someone) commenting anonymously. Just your name and/or a brief note as to how you found my blog is sufficient.

Thanks so much!

Vote for the Lazy Party!

After much extensive political analysis (snort) I've decided that I should like to start a new political party. I will call it The Lazy Party. Our motto is "we don't give a damn what you do so long as I don't have to do anything about it." Got a problem with your public school? Take it up with the principle. Public schools got a problem with parents yanking kids out of school? Take it up with the parents. (waves hands dismissively) I'm gonna go play table football with the Hon Senator Sittsdown. Huh? You don't think this will work? Let me tell you something. For the past who knows how long we've had little but eager beaver idealistic moneygrubbers campaigning to do this that and the other when really most of them just wanted to hang out by the banks of the money river and take a few swigs. You've gotten higher taxes, more regulations, more interference, and less efficiency and sanity as the terms have come and gone. Personally, I want in office because I'm tired of sitting at my desk all day and playing solitaire when the boss's not looking. I'd rather play tag with the Representatives on the front lawn. So here's the deal. You vote us into office and give us enough root beer and baseball tickets to keep us occupied, and we'll leave you alone. If a bill lapses who cares? We probably didn't need it anyway. Vote us into office and Congress will quickly stop caring what you do so long as we don't have to lift a finger about it. Shut up. Stop whining. Start living.









Of course nowadays narry a person would dare vote for someone like that. Heck, you can't even get them to vote Libertarian, but I'd rather have a self-avowed lazy congressman who didn't give a darn what I did than have one so interested in the minute details of my life that I couldn't turn around without running into his leering gaze. And if you think liberal or conservative mean a thing these days you are so far down in the paper bag someone's going to drop some Canton noodles on your head any second now.

A lovely peek through Trina's window...

He is learning to crawl this week. He will do it. He has every inclination, he just needs to figure out how his knees work.
I set three wooden blocks - clunk, clap - into a tower, just out of reach, tempting him. He bounces forward, arms outstretched - he loves his blocks....(continue)

What I am doing today

Lately, I've been feeling a push to get my projects done and get things around here in order. So here's what's going on today:

Pick up the living room, bedroom, and bathroom
Get the laundry put away
Catch up on dishes (maybe get Allen to help with this)
Vacuum?
Cut out cushion covers
Finish large fleece blanket
Fix supper (Rosemary chicken with either rice or butter herbed noodles and steamed veggies)
Probably work on more project stuff or relax

Thinking about cooking

Ok, this isn't really a recipe post. It's more of a celebration of my husband's love of food. I can hardly fix a thing without him showering me with thanks and compliments. For someone who's family laughed her out of the kitchen on a regular basis it is sweet balm to my heart. Seriously, I was considered the one who couldn't boil water*, but now I soar along on my husband's unabashed enjoyment of my culinary skills. If you were to ask me I'd classify myself as more of a family or "man's" cook. I like thick soups and yummy casseroles and roasted or browned/fried meats. I like lot's of herbs and spices and butter and oil. Fresh, organic veggies are a must. I tend to make it up as I go along --freely interpreting and improvising off of recipe ideas. I cook with my nose and my fingers and my eyes. I like colors and flavors. I don't like doing the dishes afterwards, but appreciative husbands make wonderful kitchen helpers. For specific recipes like cookies or a lovely quiche I just might break out my teaspoons and tablespoons. For most anything else it's butter and oregano and broth and flour until it smells right, feels right, tastes right. I'm not sure exactly why I cook this way, but I thank God that He's given me the ability to do so and a husband who appreciates and encourages me.




*Ok, that might not be completely accurate since my dad did thoroughly appreciate my chocolate meringue pie which I learned to make from his mom, but other than that I was pretty much considered hopeless.

this is sort of a placeholder

Corin, from CMOMB, sent me a rather detailed response to my post of health. This is just a reminder that I need to respond to her and that more health discussion will be coming up.

"What I've been up to lately" or "Some domestic acchievements"

I was just thinking the other day that I hadn't been posting very much lately. I think part of it is that I've been getting my house together more lately. In the past I've had rather a time of it trying to keep up with things -and I don't even have that much to keep up with! As I've confessed on here before, I haven't had very good work habits or thought patterns. It's just one of those things I grew up with and am finding it a bit slow to grow out of. However, I'm excited to say that I've done much better lately. For instance, there have been times in the past when I'd look up and it'd be too late or I'd be too tired or I'd forget to go to the store or something, and we'd have to go out to eat if we wanted something other than a sandwich. So it wasn't unusual for us to go out up to 3x a week. This wasn't something that my husband really wanted to do, but he also didn't want to pressure me while I was tired and stressed over various things. Well sometime the week before last Allen told me that he'd really like up to be able to only eat out once a week. Last week I made that my goal. I planned out our meals and tried to plan so that there were leftovers in the fridge for those days when I was just tired out and didn't feel like standing in the kitchen for an hour. Guess what? I did it! We didn't have to go out once! This week so far so good as well. We did stop by taco bell once because that afternoon Allen found out about a speaker he wanted to hear, and I didn't have time to get my meat thawed and cooked before we'd have to leave. But Allen didn't mind that because it wasn't lack of planning on my part -it was him disrupting plans I'd already made. Really he doesn't mind much anyway because he's a patient man, and he knows I'm trying. It just helps to know what he wants me to be aiming for. Ok, one more thing, and I'll stop bragging on myself. I have days where I just feel sluggish and fuzzy headed, and I don't feel like getting anything done. Well yesterday started out like that. However, instead of curling up on the couch like I wanted to I went and picked up the living room, bathroom, and bed room, put away the laundry, and vacuumed the living room, bed room and hall. I also fixed cube steak for supper, and got us out the door ON TIME to hear this man speak again. Sometimes I feel like I can't hardly get one of those things done, but yesterday I did all three! I was so excited! Then to top it all off after we came home Allen and I watched Nero Wolfe and ate some leftover cheesecake. That was a very good day. The only room I have left that I haven't gotten in order since the move in the back bedroom which is currently functioning as an office/sewing room/storage room. I'm going to get in a little on it this afternoon, but I really need Allen to help me on this since it's got his papers and electronic stuff in there as well, and I haven't a clue how he wants all that organized. I'm not exactly sure he knows either, but it's still something I need his help on. Anyway, I'm excited about the progress I'm making in consistently taking care of my home.

Tex-Mex Shepherd's Pie

I've sort of been playing around with the idea of shepherd's pie for a little while, and I came up with this taco inspired version tonight. It's really very good and will probably end up going into my meal rotation. Of course, anything with cumin and red meat tastes good to me these days.

Ingredients (some of the measurements are approximations):

1-1 1/2 lb ground hamburger
broth (optional)
2 red bell peppers
1 large onion
4-5 carrots
1 1/2 c frozen yellow corn
1 can cream of mushroom soup
6-7 large potatoes
1/2 lb pepper jack cheese
+ various spices

Put the potatoes on to boil for mashed potatoes (I leave the skins on mine). While the potatoes are boiling set the meat to brown with a little broth and start cutting up your veggies. When the meat is browned season with cumin, onion powder, salt, pepper, garlic salt, and red pepper flakes and let simmer for a few minutes. Oh, I also splashed a little tobasco sauce on the meat as well. If the potatoes are done drain and mash them as you normally would. I mashed mine with a stick of butter, a splash of veggie broth, and about a cup of the potato stock. I then seasoned them with salt, pepper, and garlic salt to taste. To assemble the pie mix the meat, veggies, and soup together in a baking pan and smooth the potatoes over the mixture. Cover the potatoes liberally with grated cheese and bake at 350 until the cheese starts turning golden (about 30 min.)

I expect us to get at least 6 ample servings out of it.

the life that once I led

Out of boredom I googled my name to see what would come up. After scrolling through numerous references to Natalie's wearing or selling or depicted on various short sleeved shirts I came across a University of Tennessee page from the English Department. I was listed on there for some incoming graduate student fellowship, but I got to looking at all the names and the lists of their various attainments. Many of these people I had been to class with or had worked with in the writing center. It just sort of got me to thinking about my walks to school, our little apartment, the campus, and all those other bits that made up my life just a few short months ago. I don't really miss it. It was very hard work for very little reward and for the most part I was simply too exhausted and uninspired to give it a real go. Looking at the list of articles and conference papers, and other major projects from my old grad school I found nary a thing that interested me. It rather sad really. I who love literature so much could find nothing of interest among the scholars of tomorrow. Perhaps I'm not really a scholar after all, or what's far more likely is that I'm not the kind of scholar people really want. I don't just read Beowulf -I embrace it. The odd turns of phrase and unique pacing, the sense of a world emerging out of the age of Oden and into the age of Christ, cold beauty of the epic. All these things entrance me. As Donne said, "Hold your tongue, and let me love." I love books, and I love to write. For some people that follows easily into loving to write about books. Yet it needs to be something worth writing. Most of what I see being written isn't worth the ink. But even if it was I'm not sure that I'd be the one best suited to write it. I think I'd much rather teach Beowulf and Blake to those too young to be bored by it than to try and write five thousand words proving a minor point about Eliot. Besides, I'm far too ignorant to deal with these subjects at present. Let me read Dante and Spencer and Milton and Pope and Swift and then perhaps I shall be prepared to say something. As of now I know only the merest bit of literature. You might think I'm being modest, but actually it's quite the opposite. Only a fool thinks a degree in English means you know literature. I got through the whole of my bachelor's degree without reading more than a couple hundred lines of any of the above authors. No, I'm no scholar, but I'd like to be. That's why I went to grad school. I found instead a bunch of cheap ideologies running around dressed up in the stolen robes of truth while truth sat embarrassed and ashamed outside the gates. However, there were a few there for whom I believe the light of Christian scholarship still glows. I once saw that light myself and thought it my duty to seek it in the halls of academia. Yet I am made of different stuff than they, and my road turned aside. So I look at the row of books lining the top of my bookshelf -anthologies, cheap college edition, novels, poems, and plays of all descriptions. The bright light of learning still draws me. But now it draws me for other reasons. It draws me because of my children and what they must learn. It draws me because books, and stories, and ideas are the glowing hearth of Christendom. What is the Bible if not a true book of true stories whose ideas have kindled entire cultures?

still going around...

So we did the ultrasound today. Such as it was. After waiting for over an hour she only spent maybe five minutes checking me. Obviously she didn't find anything that looked too much like a wiggly baby in there 'cause otherwise she would have surely commented on it. So now we just wait to see the doctor...which should happen in about 12 hours. Right now I'm just tired. There's definitely something going on with my body -nobody seems to be able to figure out what it is though. All they can do is say, "Well, maybe you should get this checked out." I'm still not giving up hope of a baby. Right now though I'm just ready for all this to be over. Allen thinks it's quite likely that the Doc'll order another ultrasound tomorrow, so it could be another long day. (grimace) I'm really just tired of this. So is Allen. In many ways he's much stronger than me, but it's starting to wear him down as well. I still have an unexplained lump in my stomach. I'm still experiencing other physical symptoms. Even as I was lying on the u/s table I felt something moving along the top of my stomach. When this is all over I don't know if I'm going to have a tumor, a baby, or a recommendation to meet with a shrink. Hopefully the second of the three, but if that's the case God must be planning to pull off a big one here. Which I readily grant He's capable of. It can just be a little wearying to us spectators. Come on God. Show up for me here. I'm getting tired and feeling lost. Have mercy on us.

round and round and round she goes and where she stops nobody knows

Well, it looks like we're going to have another spin on that merry go round that I wish could be called pre-natal care but really looks more like a huge game of hide and go seek where Baby is currently holding all the points. My brothers-in-law have already proclaimed that they refuse to participate in any future hide and seek games with Baby on the basis that she is already too darn good at it. However, much as I perhaps should be pleased at this early show of skill and dexterity, I should very much like for Baby to perhaps get the hiccups or knock over the broom handle and bring us all running to the closet before she decides to try hiding under the bed. (Yes, Metaphore, you've said "Uncle" three times quite clearly now, and I shall let you go.) Sufficing to say that later this week we will be getting and ultrasound and subsequently talking to a gynecologist who was recommended to us by both a friend and my MIL. Hopefully that will clear things up for us. This same friend also (after listening with her own dopplar and doing a bit of feeling) suggested that I have an anterior placenta which would make it almost impossible for a midwife to detect a heart rate with her hand held unit. However it wouldn't interfere with an ultrasound. As for the blood work...any woman can tell you stories she's heard about women who simply don't test well. I don't know why it happens, but it does. Anyway, muscle testing supports the anterior placenta theory, so we'll see what happens when we go in this week. Like I said, hopefully she knocks over the broom handle or something. I'm beyond ready to hear "Woman, didn't you know you're pregnant?!"

My living room is unpacked!!!

After a bunch of fuss and bother and quite a few days of not really wanting to get things done I finally got my living room completely unpacked! That does not, however, mean that it is currently completely clean : p But I'm happy to say that my living room does show evidence that people actually live here rather than merely inhabit it.



This is the bakers rack that some dear friends gave us when we got married. Since cabinet space is an issue I use it for dishes and glassware that's either too pretty or too large to store elsewhere. The table is an old one of my in-laws that they had been storing.



I love having a fireplace. My folks aways had one, and it was very much missed when I left. The mirror is a $10 thrift store find : D The dolls and figurines my mom bought me over the years. It was a tradition that every Christmas (and I can't remember when this started) that all of us girls would get a Madame Alexander doll. The one year mom skipped there was much gnashing of teeth from the girl children.



This is the bookcase my FIL made for Allen a while back that we got to take with us when we got married. Good thing too because we love books!



Here's my couch and rocking chair. The quilt was another wedding present from my aunt.



I'm obnoxiously proud of this little end table/shelf. I bought it unfinished from Michael's then spray painted and stenciled it myself. I personally think it's one of the cutest things in the room : )

After having some days where I could barely get off the couch and get supper ready, I'm so pleased with the progress I've made in getting things set up and organized. I've already made a big dent in finishing the bedroom since I got the living room straight, but it's not picture ready yet. I might post some when I finish though.