Role Models

I didn't spend a great deal of time with my great grandparents, but the time I spent with them was such a treasure.
 I've been thinking of them today.  They lived a humble, resourceful life in a small house, kind of a shack really, filled with homemade quilts and a woodburning stove and an older than old oven that always had the smell of bread and yeasty wonderful things coming from it.  There was a root cellar that I was terrified of and a garden that was bigger than the house.  They lived within a hundred steps of a lake where they fished and there were choke cherry trees that grew along the banks that my great grandmother made into jelly. 

My great grandmother, Mary, grew tiger lilies and day lilies and peonies that were a riot of color.  I loved the smell of her kitchen and of her.  She was my very favorite relative ever. 

I never minded when she called me by my mom's name by accident because I knew it tied me to her by the thread of generations and family.

 I'd sit at that small kitchen table and gaze out the window at the garden and eat chocolate-covered graham crackers that she always seemed to have on plate on the table.  I'd lie on the bed in the spare room and sink into the many kaleidoscope quilts and hear the springs squeak with every movement and lie as still as possible and  listen to the noises of family and conversation as a hum. 

I once asked my great grandpa, Wencil, how it was that he was so old- he understood that I was really asking how it was that he was still alive.  His answer was, "A beer a day.  A beer a day."  And then his face cracked into a smile and he laughed.  

They played cards and were always smiling and laughing and enjoying visitors and family.  They spoke English with lovely, thick Minnesotan accents and Bohemian.  Frank was Czech and Mary was Czech and German. I have yet to try my hand at making kolaches, but she would make them by the hundreds- Prune, poppyseed, and apricot were the flavors she made.  None of the kids liked the poppyseed, but I pretended to like them because Grandma made them, and partly because it was unusual, and I was a kid who wanted to be seen as an individual, I was a bit of a rebel, so poppyseed it was.  In pretending to love those poppyseed kolaches, they became my favorites. I crave them at Christmas every year and miss them so much. 

One of my second cousins decided to give Grandma a modern makeover one year, and I remember mourning the loss of her yards of dark blonde and gray hair that she'd bundle into twists and braids on the top of her head.  There was a name for that bun, I seem to remember she'd do two of them sometimes.  The loss of a memory... I wish I could remember the Bohemian name for how she did her hair! 

I started thinking of my great grandparents when I was cleaning the shed today.  Looking at the hoe, I thought of how my great grandpa, in his nineties, didn't care for a cane.  Well-meaning friends and family members would bring him canes, and they'd sit there by the door.  I think there was even an unused walker.  He'd go out to the garden with his hoe-- using it as a hoe, but also as a cane of sorts.  Sometimes, he'd lose his balance.  Grandma would see him from the window when he'd fall.  He'd crawl back to the house and get to his feet again.  Grandma would laugh at him.  It became kind of a joke.  Grandpa never complained about the days that he fell.  It was just part of life.  And seeing Grandma laugh, I think was worth it for him. 

On June 28, 1985, Great Grandpa fell down in the garden.  I imagine that Grandma probably thought it was all normal, even funny until Grandpa didn't get up or crawl back to the house.  She called a neighbor and the neighbor called an ambulance and came over.  Grandpa was injured.  They went in to tell Grandma.  They found her on the floor.  In her shock, she'd had a heart attack and collapsed on the kitchen floor near the door.  She made it through the night in the hospital and died the next day on my 15th birthday and her and Grandpa's wedding anniversary.  My Great Grandma, Mary was 89 years old.

 I don't really remember much about that birthday other than feeling incredibly sad.  I'd never explained how important my Great grandmother was to me to anyone--it was kind of a possessive thing- that time with her was my own- how I felt about her was my own.  I grieved alone.

Great Grandpa didn't do well on his own, and had to live in a nursing home.  I visited him there.  He was never the same.  He tried to be peppy and happy, but the happy banter was gone.  He lived three years and died within a few weeks of turning 97 years old. 

I know that last bit is sad, and I am sorry for that, but to me it is also beautiful in a bittersweet way.  Their love, their commitment to each other and to their family was huge.  It was palpable and a constant presence in their home. I didn't know why I needed to be in that house and with my Great Grandmother in her kitchen every chance I got, which wasn't as often as I'd have liked. I think I know now though. 

I know that growing up with divorced parents, I didn't have a real model for what I wanted someday as far as family- as far as who I wanted to be as a wife and who I wanted as a husband.  The world kept trying to tell me that my family was normal, that divorce was normal.  It isn't.  Until this day, today, I had not really thought on this.  My great grandparents were and are the role models I had.  I laugh at Chris and tease him just like Grandma teased Great Grandpa.  I love company, and even when we have little to offer, I can make it look like a banquet.  I value friends and family and my husband, Chris above all else except God.  I'm even on the rounder side like Grandma and my hair is on the longer side- I guess I should start wearing it in a bun.

 I gravitated toward that house.  When my brother and sister wanted to play with cousins and toys, I would beg to go see my great grandparents.  It was mainly my mom and me who would go to see them.  I was always so grateful for those visits. 

That small house near the lake was a haven of normal and constant and timelessness in a world that was abnormal, inconstant and unreliable and moving too fast with no solid, central compass of home.  My great grandparents and their home served me well as a model even when I didn't know that that was what it was.  It's funny that I stood in my garden shed staring at a hoe today and felt in a very pivotal and powerful way the impact that they had on who I am now and on what I want. 
I know for my husband, his Grandpa Al and Grandma Peggy served as his role models for what he wanted.  God is so good.  Even coming from divorced homes, Chris and I had some pretty amazing people to observe and learn from as far as committed, loving, faith-filled, frugal, good-humoured spouses.

My next order of business is to learn how to make poppyseed kolaches.

Publishing a Family Cookbook

Hubby, Evelynn, Sonia, Bridget, and Sean- frying fish - Lent 2013

Today, I'm at-my-wit's-end overwhelmed.  Truly.  So, what do I choose to do?? 
Why, try to figure out how to get our sadly-dilapidated, grease-stained, full-of-crumbs, hand-written family cookbook into a printable format, so that I can hand one to each of the kids as they eventually leave the nest, of course.

Sad thought.  Very, very sad thought. That leaving the nest bit.  :-(

Sonia and Sara making pizza- one of our favorite things to make as a family

We started a family cookbook many years ago.  Sara, my oldest, was 8 or 9 at the time.  She just turned 18.  She was the "keeper of the recipes", but now, it seems, our resident 12 year old pastry chef, Sonia, has become the "keeper", although, EVERYONE wants the cookbook- or at least the recipes in the cookbook.  No one should want this cook book.  No one!  It is gross-- seriously!  Crumbs and grease from buttery fingers and I don't even know what else is on it-- the laminated pages stick together as I page through it.  Blech.

A funny pic of my boys with a requested birthday cake for Cameron- chocolate, Heath bar, caramel

At what point does my house become less messy or sticky or crumby??  By the time I get Sean, 5 years old, raised, I figure I'll have grandkids running around-- I am hopeful on that point.  

All Sean wanted was a "monkey cake" - runts and grapes and chocolate, oh, my!

I don't have great publishing software on my computer.  We always thought we'd get it later to put on the computer, but have never had the money to do so.  Priorities, ya know.  Groceries and clothes and gas....... Yep.  Kinda important.

I think I'll make a secret blog and start posting the recipes there along with some family photos-- I want to do this up right.  I think it could be a beautiful thing for the kids to have. 

I'd like to see it in color and heavily laminated-- so much so that perhaps, they could just throw it in the dishwasher when they have their own sticky-fingered children.  Okay, so, maybe not.  It was a good thought, but not so doable.  I'll just hold a copy or two back for each of them to replace theirs at different points in their lives. 

Off to create a secret blog.
Feel free to say a pray for a break in my overwhelmedness- I'd go for a big bag of money too while you're praying- never hurts to ask, right?  I'm escaping today into a project that while being a challenge, is something I think I can handle. 

Evelynn with her requested raspberry and chocolate birthday cake - 2012

Of course, now, I've put my apron on, made a raspberry coffee cake, and have an escapist baking bug going on too.  If you give a mom a cookbook project, she's bound to start baking something.  If a mom starts baking, she's bound to make a pot of coffee.  If she puts on a pot of coffee, she's bound to start making lists of things she must do.  And, if she's making a list, why not a blog post on a very neglected blog too.  LOL 

Unpacking

I empathize with what I think military kids must feel, that never really belonging, always set apart kind of feeling.  I feel for my kids, who've grown up as casualties of the wanderlust my husband and I used to feel- maybe, in the case of my hubby, still feel.  Every two years, feeling that pull to move elsewhere- better jobs, lower cost of living, interesting, new area of the country, near family, far enough away from family to breathe, to heal, etc., etc.

At least, if my kiddos were military kids, they'd be surrounded with other military kids who'd lived transitory, temporary lives, like they had- there'd be a norm even in the transitory-ness- a commonality.  Instead, we move into an area, and they are met with groups of kids, potential friends, who have close cliques of acquaintances, shared experiences, established patterns of relating to each other, inside jokes, and standing orders for playdates, sleepovers, and an open freedom of belonging in each other's homes, families, and lives.  Even though I know how uncomfortable and scary it must be for them- as I feel some of the same emotions, they muster their courage and poke at the new group or community of potential peers- some with a tentative tip-toeing, some in a falsely boisterous swagger- to see if there is room for them inside and where they might fit- as they are measured up by and are measuring up those already there.

The older my kids have gotten, and the more times they've moved and had to do the whole starting from scratch of finding community, the harder it is for them, this uncertainty of where they'll be in two years.  "Is it even worth the energy, stress, heartache of making new friends or acquaintances?" "Will these friends, unlike so many before them, actually want to know me and keep up with me and be my friend if or when I move yet again?"

My children, and I too for that matter, have few to no long-term friendships.  It's not for lack of wanting, but for lack of time. Just about the time friendships are being formed, deepened, hearts cracked open to reveal the intimacies of who we are, who they are in turn, we move.  Or, there is talk of moving.  I crave, on a very deep level, roots and long-lasting, strong friendships.  I pray for friends for myself and for my hubby and kids.

My kids can tell you how many homes they've lived in.  For 17yr old Sara, she's lived in eight houses.  15yr old Cameron has lived in 7, 14yr old Evelynn's lived in 6, 12yr old Sonia's lived in 5, 7yr old Bridget's lived in 4, and my littlest, Sean, who is 5, has lived in 3 houses.  I am weary of moving- VERY weary.  We are all weary of moving.

We've moved again.  For 5 months now, we've lived in this house.  I've told my husband that I will not move again.  I would contemplate moving a few miles, but this is my home now- this church is my parish now.  If I was an explorer, I would plant a flag and claim this land as mine.  Period.  When I introduced myself to the neighbors, MY neighbors, I explained that they would have to get used to us or sick of us, as we weren't going anywhere, that if they ever turned on the news and saw a story about a woman chained to her house, to assume it was me and that my husband had even hinted at moving.  I am not going anywhere-- heels dug in, line-in-the-sand, no, wait, line-in-concrete not moving.

I am so incredibly done with packing and unpacking and having belongings be just as temporary as many of our relationships with others because they break or are destroyed a little more with each trip up or down a stairwell or in or out of a moving truck.  So many things broken and damaged.  But, here we are, mostly unpacked working at building friendships and forming community or becoming part of communities already formed and finding our way in them-- the intricacies of how others parent their children or celebrate or even things that are accepted or taboo to talk about.  We are unpacking our hearts and trying to find where they go- where they best fit in this new home of ours.

In this home that I have claimed as permanent, I see my children who've grown up in a transitory, vagabond, gypsy-like way struggling with being not-temporary- with unpacking fully both physically and mentally.  I look at my older kids and see them standing in a crowded room- even in a group of friends looking lonely and sometimes lost.  I see their eyes, their solitary souls exposed, as they question, "For how long will I know this person?  In the end, will they mean more to me than I ever will to them?"  We've seen it happen-- my children have been hurt by it-- clinging to friendships when they are no longer thought of as deeply as closely- out of sight, out of mind, I guess.  The group keeps going when my kids are no longer there.  Some of my kids bear the wounds more than others.

It is hard for them to realize that they can open up their hurt-in-the-past hearts to new friendships and that this time, the friendships will be solid- built in the foundation of one location, one parish, one homeschool group.   

I find myself constantly reminding the kids, myself too, that "This is where we live.  These are the people you/we will know for a very long time.  You will be invited to their weddings and baby showers and in turn, they will be at your special events too."

"We live here!  Unpack.  Take your coat off, and stay awhile."

Well, That Whole 2012-2013 Journaling Thing Was a GIANT FAIL!

So, I'm guessing you read all of those 180 school days worth of "Homeschool Adventure Journal" posts that I made on here, right?  I'm so cool, that I made all but the first of the posts invisible.  I know, I know.  I impress even myself.  However, you can only read those 179 invisible posts with that bottom-of-the-cereal-box decoder ring or "invisible-writer viewer thingy" that you fought your brother or sister for back in 2nd grade.

Oh!  What's that you say?  You lost it?  Hah!  Me too. 

Well, those posts don't really exist even though the memories do.  So, stop looking for the decoder, and know that my journaling experiment of 2012-2013 was a giant fail.

In my chaotic, vagabond homeschooling journey of last year, there was no real journaling.  Take that, homeschool reviewer!  *please imagine me making horribly immature raspberries in the direction of the school board offices of the school district we lived in last year*  Please, see here for my mini-rant on having homeschool reviews done by the school district.

No, I don't need to journal to prove that I've homeschooled, but it does help to keep track of our daily learning adventures.  It's nice to have that tied-up-in-a-bow tidiness of a record that can then easily be turned into a transcript of sorts that conforms to what anyone outside of this house might need to look at to see "proof of schooling". I've never done the journaling thing before, and had hoped to start.  Maybe this year I'll have better self-discipline in making it a habit.  One can hope.   

Big news!!  We bought a house, FINALLY, and we've moved!  WOOHOO!!!  And, drumroll, please, WE'VE FINALLY UNPACKED!!!!  That last sentence is HUGE!  I honestly hadn't unpacked everything for over 6years.  It's amazing all of the cool things I'm finding in random boxes and bins.

It is really exciting to put the books on the shelves and know that they can stay there or be a path of learning all over the floor to hopscotch across into the next room, and that no one can come in and do a "house inspection".  Renting with 6 kids was so incredibly stressful!  Homeschooling in a rental with 6 kids and not knowing where we'd eventually land for good was also ridiculously stressful.  

I will not be moving again.  Nope.  Don't even think about saying that such-and-such place is an amazing place to live.  Not budging.  If you ever turn on the news and see some crazy lady chained to her house, know that it's me, and that my husband probably said something along the lines of, "Hey, we should move back to Colorado!"

No homechooling journaling was done by me last year.  *gasp*  Lots of learning was had by all, but the rebel-in-me and the conformist-in-me arm-wrestled it out, and guess who won on the whole journaling project.  The conformist-in-me is a meek and malnutritioned creature of my conscience, who I rarely let take the wheel when it comes to most things health or political or parenting or education related, so I'm not really surprised that she lost. 

We're moving on to this new school year!  I'm so excited about all of the things that the kids and I have in the works as far as opportunities and experiences and online classes and books to read and movies to watch and places to go and people to meet!  Lots of good stuff to come! 

So, perhaps, I'll journal-- and you won't even need a decoder ring to read my sporadic posts.  Perhaps, I'll even notify our new school district that we're here and homeschooling *shhhhhhhhhh*.  I will notify them.  Truly.  Stop laughing!  I really will!  I'm just enjoying being a rebel for a little while. 

The Start of a Homeschool Adventure Journal

Yesterday was Friday.
The day started out early.  I have a new book shelf, so organizing books, and the resulting, "Oh, wow, I never knew we had a book about this!" that comes with the organizing were the first orders of the day.  Everyone was involved in sorting of books and putting them on the shelves- which involved organizing of the other book shelves-- the kids detest when I get in these "Let's organize our whole house!" kind of moods.  It was a two day project.  Cameron (14) and Chris (hubby) built the shelf, which required reading directions and some engineering and carpentry skills. As you can see, it is built, and it is straight-- after having 2 smaller bookshelves break in the last year, I am a tad concerned about that second shelf from the top-- does it look like it might already be bowing?  UGH!  What do people put on bookshelves if not books!?

Sara (oldest girly) spent the day getting ready for a trip to see her friend for the week in Virginia.  She did laundry and picked which books she wanted to take with her to study from.  She chose a giant literature text book with excerpts from many major works of fiction and authors of note.  She also chose a text book on American government.  She packed, "The Hound of the Baskervilles", by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle" by Washington Irving.  She will read both books easily within the first two days.  She reads anything that is put in front of her.  Sara and I also talked about many things related to being a 16.5yr old girl.  I try to talk a lot with my kids, and I try to listen to them even more.

Bridget (6) is reading more and more each day.  She read "The Turnip", by Harriet Zieffert.  I swear, I think I love every single book that this woman has authored.  Bridget was so excited that she had read the entire book ALL BY HERSELF!.  What a moment.  For whatever reason, school was out yesterday, so some of the kids in the neighborhood were outside.  Bridget spent time roller-blading and running and playing and breathing in the sunshine and creating forts with her friends in the woods.

Sean (4) and I sat outside.  I had to re-pot  a Chrysanthemum.  He helped me dig in the soil, push the soil around the roots, and firm the soil down, then he went in and got cups of water to water it in well.   "Wow, that flower is thirsty!"  We moved the urn that the chrysanthemum was now in, and hop, hop, hop.  I saw a cricket- a MONSTROUS cricket!  "SEAN, LOOK!"  The look in his eyes was amazing.  I will never get tired of seeing the look of wonder and the questions forming behind the eyes of my children.  Never.  We asked Cameron to get a jar and lid and to please catch the cricket.  Cameron came outside and was able to catch the cricket-- after much drama and screams that rivalled any pre-pubescent girl's--  The screams were from Cameron of course, not from Sean or me.  LOL  I must explain the reason for said screams- the cricket startled Cameron, when he was trying to catch it, by jumping and nearly hitting him in the face.  Is it sick that I nearly fell over in giggles?

The cricket came inside in a jar.  Cameron poked holes in the lid and we all stared at him.  "I think he is hungry," Sean said.  Yeah.  Probably.  I explained that he would need to go back outside.  The look-- the look of every child who wants to keep it but knows also that it must be set free-- settled on Sean.  "Would you like to put it somewhere special?  How about under the tree?  Or maybe, we can put him in the chrysanthemum." Hearing Sean repeat the word chrysanthemum was priceless.  He learned a new, fun to say word.  It was agreed upon-- the chrysanthemum.  Still holding him on my lap while he held the jar with the cricket, I asked him if he would like to name our new cricket friend before we set him free.  I wonder if Adam looked as astonished when God asked him to name all of the animals!? Without hesitating, he excitedly said, "Trip Trap!"  It took me a minute, but the connection was made.  His favorite book lately is "The Three Billy Goats Gruff".  The goats go over the bridge, "Trip, trap, trip, trap."  Trip Trap is enjoying his new home.

Trip Trap, evidently, likes his new home.  He has taken to making quite a racket to tell us of his appreciation for the fabulous new place.



Just so you know, we now know that crickets eat lots of different things and are omnivorous like us.  Here's the link we found and read.  Evelynn (nearly 13) took to reading all about crickets which prompted reading on our other local buggy residents the stinkbugs and then mosquitos.  Her reaction to what she learned from reading about mosquitos has shown me that she should probably NOT seek a career in the health sciences.  She found out that mosquitos are attracted to carbon dioxide, so now, she says, "I'm just not going to breathe when I'm outside at dusk!  I don't want any vampirous bug making me sick with these diseases!"  Evelynn kept reading the bug book that we have and stated that she was terrified of catching malaria and then, oh my, tsetse flies became another horror!  There was a new dramatic moment with every turned page!  I explained that tsetse flies don't live in this area, and that malaria is more common in tropical and hotter climes.  If she ever reads a book on infectious disease, I can see her wearing a mask and being fearful of anyone breathing on her.  LOL  She, also spent much of the beautiful afternoon outside.  She likes to skate FAST with her long blonde hair trailing in streamers, like a comet's tail, behind her.

Sonia (11) did some work in her math book.  She likes math, and likes the time that I can sit and do math problems with her.  She helped with the organization of the shelves and made her own shelf of books she wants to read.  It is FULL.  This is huge, as she is my latest and most reluctant reader.  Amazing how that all worked out in the end.  I won't say that she is a great reader.  She still struggles with it and goes slower because it is not a fluid thing for her.  There is a lot of sounding out.  However, she has the desire to read, and that goes far.  it may take her longer to finish a book, but she sticks with it, and I couldn't be more proud of her.

Sonia is also, I think, my most empathetic and caring kid.  We had an incident just as I was trying to leave to take Sara down to Virginia.  Daredevil, wanna-be-stuntman, Sean jumped off of the roof of the Suburban (over 5 ft up) onto the asphalt.  From the report, amazingly, he "stuck the landing".  No gravel or abrasion to the hands.  No falling onto his head or knees or even bum!  Unfortunately, he is limping and is favoring one foot.  No hip or leg issues-- thank-you Lord for prompting me to buy him brand new tennis shoes!!!!  We think that the shoes absorbed most of the shock which would have broken his leg(s).  Also, they have arch support, so his foot had some support.  However, it appears-- still waiting to see how he feels in a day or two-- that one of the tiny bones on the top of his foot might be broken-- It's more than likely a stress fracture based on him not crying.  There's a tiny bump but no other swelling or bruising.  Sonia was my nurse through it all and got the ice and asked him if he was okay, and if there was anything else I needed to help Sean.

We had much discussion on what we thought it might be which led to an amazing discussion of the amount of bones in the foot being so numerous and the names of them.  We learned about the difference between a sprain and a break. We talked about my old 5th metatarsal fracture that resulted in a bright orange cast.  After palpating and checking Sean's foot, we believe there might be a small fracture to the 3rd metatarsal.  The recommendation is ice and a sturdy shoe and little to no weight on it.  We're giving that a try.   Feet are amazing!

Sonia came with to take Sara down to VA.  She was my ice bag holder.  She read a lot, and the book she chose to bring with her and read upset her so much that I got a mini-book-report from all of her complaining about the main character.

Sara and I worked on her singing in the car on the ride.  I taught her a new song-- slightly bawdy, okay, MORE than slightly bawdy-- I guess I didn't know ALL of the lyrics.  LOL  However, it is a song that is great at showcase range.  She loved the little bit that I taught her, so she looked up info on it and who sang it and where it came from and further lyrics.   The song is "Big Spender" it comes from the musical, "Sweet Charity".  Wow!  Turns out Sara's seen the video of it.  Interesting story for sure!  Got us talking about the bluesy-style of music, Broadway, Bob Fosse, etc. etc.  I guess I should have known all the lyrics before I taught the bit I knew to my 16yr old daughter, but hey, ho.  LOL  Another lesson for us both and a bit of a giggle to boot.

What else did we do?-- Gosh, this whole journaling thing really does show how much we get done in a day!  WOW!
Cameron spent at least two hours playing the piano.  He is composing his own songs now.  Pretty amazing for a kid who had less than 6months of piano.  I think, he was still in a beginner book.  He doesn't read music, but he watches YouTube videos, and learns both right and left hands.  He plays really well.  I've blogged about his piano playing before.  He corresponded with some friends.  We just made the choice to leave the Irish dance school that he's been with since he was 6.  Friday was the day that it all really sunk in.  He is nervous about going to a new Irish dance school with boys who are ranked at the World and national levels.  We talked through a lot of this.  We talked about his goals.  He also spent time outside rollerblading and playing with neighbors.  He also helped in the assessing of Sean's injury.  He has been Sean's "servant" ever since- moving him from place to place so we can keep weight off of it and being his 4yr old brother's "fetch and carry boy".

There is more that we did, but I'll leave it at that.  Oh, WAIT!  We also mapped out Libya with everything that is going on.  Benghazi, Tripoli, etc.  Looked at some of the areas on the map that have become hot spots for hostility against the US.  We talked about what Sharia law is a bit too.

Pretty good for a day where no real formal schooling was done.

My Mini-Rant on Homeschool Monitors and Reviews

It's been so long since I posted.  Hello, bloggy world!

If you don't want to read my little, pissy, mini-rant about homeschool monitors or reviews for homeschooling, please scroll down to the line of asterixes.

We officially started our "school year" of 180days in mid August.  We are learning all of the time, so it is hard to say we started or finished or will start on such-and-such day, etc.  We are living, and growing, and learning all of the time.  We never really stop or finish out schooling, our learning.

It is that time of year when I have to schedule the annual meeting with the homeschool moderator/reviewer for our area.  This always makes me feel anxious-- like someone is going to say I'm not doing enough.  I don't want to get into a fight.  Really, I don't.  But, I am a rebel at heart.  I detest the idea that anyone could tell me that my kids are not learning enough or that they're not learning exactly what they need to learn based on someone's arbitrary guidelines of what is important for such and such age or grade.

The review is supposed to be an interview.  It is supposed to be about assessing what needs we have as homeschoolers-- they come across as helpful, but there is an undercurrent.  "Do you have any samples of your children's work to share?"  "Did you fill out and bring your weekly schooling schedule so that we can place it in your file?"

I can wear a smile through it all, even when I want to tell them it's none of their friggin' business.  Even when I want to tell them that they need to focus on the schools and the kids who are in the system and leave all the people who "opt out" of their form of compulsory schooling alone.  I honestly and completely do not know one single homeschool mom who is neglectful or homeschooling to be lazy or raise lazy kids.  I do know lots of homeschoolers.  I also know homeschoolers of just about every kind, who teach and guide and parent in any number of ways that are different from the way I choose to do things.  I could no more judge their schedule or children's work than they should judge mine.

Last year, what did I do??  Well, I brought my schedule in and NOT ONE SINGLE PIECE OF "SAMPLE WORK".  Yes, it was the rebel in me.  I proceeded to tell the reviewer that my kids write like crazy, have blogs that they put their creative time and thought into, Irish dance, do math on the computer and through games, were doing an "intensive" on weather patterns and natural disasters for science and plotting out where the rifts and fault lines were for learning about the Earth's seismic activity and how the eruptions of the volcanoes affect the atmosphere-- how earth quakes affect climate.  I talked about doing a huge block of science fiction, classical through current works dealing with dystopian societies and the resulting lessons about current and past governments- what works and what doesn't work and what could work in theory.  I talked about car trips and field trips and our obsession with the library.  on

I could have talked for hours, but I focused on what I knew would best appease her- coming from a public school model of thinking- Math, Language arts, Science, Social studies and geography, and a bit of history too.  I didn't overwhelm her, but she wrote and wrote while I smiled and talked with great energy about our fabulous homeschool adventure.  I didn't lie- didn't need to.  I also, did not bring any sample work in.

My kids do not go to school.  I don't want them in the schools.  This is not an elitist thing on my part, simply a choice that we have made for our family and for our kids.  My kids do not need their work filed in a file with gold stars or a lack of gold stars and approved or disapproved of.  They also do not need someone giving suggestions on how to improve what they are doing.  I do not need those things either.  I never needed someone to tell me I am parenting correctly or that I am qualified to parent (God please forbid this always!), and I see our homeschooling as an extension of that parenting.

I have never taken well to unasked for parenting advice, and the rebel in me still doesn't want someone telling me how my bright and learning and unique children need to do one single thing differently.  Period.  If I'm having trouble, or if they're having trouble, I will seek out help from sources that I trust.  They also seek out help from sources that they trust already.  They know when they need help, and they ask.  I get asked a billion or more questions a day by my children.  My children are inquisitive and constantly improving on what they are doing because they want to, because what they are doing pleases them and makes them feel proud and because these things they ask about and improve on become a springboards for even more questions, improvements, adventures, and learning.

I can't always show physical proof that they are learning, and this stresses me out a bit especially at this time of year where I am making the dreaded review appointment.  How does one show proof when there are days that we don't write a single thing on paper or decided to do a workbook page, etc?   I can see that an outside person who only has the public school model to base their observations on would not see the concrete "proof" of learning.  Even on days that would be perceived as lazy, my kids are learning and asking and doing tons of things.  They are building and cooking and organizing and learning to read sheet music and playing instruments and creating concoctions and cleaning and digging and drawing and learning how to resolve conflicts and reading and...... *phew* *taking a breath!*   How do I show proof of that??  The rebel in me says, "Why the hell should I have to!?"  However, I TRY very hard to be mild-mannered- to not let my rebel-self show her true stripes all the time.  Confrontation is not what I welcome- especially when dealing with the powers to be with the local school system.

End of mini-rant.........  for the moment

************************************
Sooooooooo, with my stress about what to do for this upcoming "review", a friend mentioned that they journal their homeschooling so that it shows how very much is being done in a given day.  She said, "Try it.  You might be surprised by how much is happening that can be categorized in a way that it works for a report even a county school board homeschool monitor can understand."  

Okay, I thought, I'll give it a try.  So, everyday or so, I will post little notes about what we're up to.  Hopefully, I can keep up with it.  I will even post a link or two when we go on rabbit-trails of learning from one thing to the next in our learning adventure in the real world and on the internet.


Please check my next post where I start journaling.  Wish me success!    :-)

Parenting and Teaching Virtue: My Goals as a Mom

Jezu Ufam Tobie (2002-Polish for ‘Jesus I trust in you’) by Stephen B. Whatley



Okay, so here's my list of most important goals in parenting my 6 kiddos. The first of these goals has always been there as have many of these. Our list is pretty much written in cement at this point with tiny bits of tweaking every now and again. I feel strongly about my vocation as a mother and Catholic homeschooler. Virtue has always been very central in our parenting even before I came back to my faith and Chris converted. I truly feel that is better to have strength of character through virtue than any material wealth (although, it'd always be nice to have both ;) )

1.) That my children learn to trust, rely on, and be generous and caring towards each other. All of their words and actions must be these 4 things: Kind, Loving, Protective, and Encouraging/Supportive. If you ask any of them what the 4 things are that that every action and word should be based in towards each other, they can all tell you this list. Do they do it all the time? No. Is it our goal? Yes.

2.) That they strive not so much for happiness, but for acting joyful in most all things. Joy is a choice and a gift we give back to God. They can begrudgingly do something or choose to turn their hearts to God and His absolute love for them in even the most dreary of tasks and sufferings. I don't want them to ever succumb to a victim's mentality, but to see everything even the bad as something that they can learn from and become holier through.

3.) That my children are naturally curious and seekers of knowledge and know how to use any knowledge with wisdom. That they go on giant rabbit trails of seeking answers and are not content with the first answer they come to, but continue to ask questions about this world we live in.

4.) That they seek a strong relationship with their faith and God. That they truly understand that their greatest goal should always be to know, love, and serve God first. What's important in their lives will fall into place if they keep this as a central focus. That they pray and read the Bible and see the saints as examples of how to serve Our Lord.

5.) That they will be wonderful spouses and friends to others. That they look constantly for ways of serving their family, friends and the outside world through Corporal Works of Mercy. That they understand that love is a verb not a noun. They can not give someone love. They can show love and be loving and be charitable which is the purest form of love. (seeking to do for another without any need of anything to come back in return)

6.) That they know that they can always rely on Mom and Dad to help them in all things in any way we can. That they feel comfortable to bring any problems or successes to us.

7.) That they do not get sucked into the world's view of what's "right". That they realize that what is popular is seldom right and what is right is seldom popular and that they are courageous enough to always seek to do what is right in the sight of God rather than in the sight of the world. That they learn to choose good and shun evil and understand how cunning the devil is

8.) That they can find creative ways of using their talents to earn money to support their families through industriousness and innovation. Nothing comes easy in the life, but it can be a bit easier to provide income by seeing the talents they have and how these talents can be used to find or create jobs.

9.) That they focus on growing in virtue by choosing a few virtues at a time to grow spiritually towards greater holiness and better relationships with family and others. That they understand that we are all hopefully, with work, in a constant state of conversion- of turning our hearts to God. That if they fall down in their faith, that they know that the surest way back is through prayer and humility. Humility, I feel, is the greatest of all the virtues.

10.)That in their memories of their life with their dad and me that we may have made bad desicions and had bad moments, but that overall, we did the best we could with what we had and what we knew and where we were. That they judge our parenting with a gentle and forgiving spirit and know that we always completely loved them and wanted always the best for them. That we humbly know that we are not the best but that we are what God chose for them and they for us. That they are even better parents to their own children than we were to them and can take the best of our parenting and use it with their own children.

May God bless and lead our family always.
Amen
Darlene

Mondays in Our House

Well, it's Monday, and I thought, hey, why not tell y'all what our Mondays are like.

We love Mondays. When most people cringe at the thought of a Monday, I get excited!

Monday is for books!
Monday is the day that I assign-- with recommendations coming from the kids many times-- the book for the week for each child.

This week??

Sara is finishing up Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" and then, will be starting "Jacob I have Loved", by Katherine Paterson.
Cameron is finishing up "A Wrinkle in Time", by Madeleine L'Engle and then will be starting. "The Black Pearl", by Scott O'Dell.
Evelynn just started "Peter and the Starcatchers", by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson.
Sonia is reading "Old Mother West Wind" by Thornton Burgess, and I am reading "Little Birds and Lilies", by Mary Callahan to her.

For Bridget?
Well, today, these are the books she pulled out of the library basket to be read to her by me or various older siblings:
"One Red Apple", "Birdhouse For Rent", and "The Little Red Hen", by Harriet Ziefert- I'm on a bit of a Ziefert kick lately. LOVE her books!
"Free Fall", by David Wiesner
"Who Loves the Fall?", by Bob Raczka
"Red Leaf, Yellow Leaf" by Lois Ehlert
"Mrs. Katz and Tush", by Patricia Polacco, who also wrote one of my all-time favorite kids' books, "Thunder Cake".

Yes, they'll all get read. :)

Monday is for movies!

We're going to stay in our jammies, which is kinda normal for us on Mondays, and watch the first season of "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman". It was recommended to us by a friend of Sara's, so I added it to the mammoth list of library holds, and we'll see if we can make it through Season 1 today.
I also got the movie of "Mrs. Katz and Tush" for Bridget to watch.

Monday is for music!

I promised Cameron a keyboard for his birthday in January if he can learn how to play some basic piano, so off he went that day and every day since to find videos on YouTube to learn how to play different songs on the piano. All of the kiddos are finding this a great way to learn to play piano. Viva La Vida, by Coldplay is the latest song he has mastered. No lie. It sounds amazing in my house!!!
Here is the video that he and Sara both learned with:



We love YouTube for music lessons of all kind for free. Cameron has become pretty good on the guitar learning this way too.

Sara's favorite site for learning piano is Online Pianist. She and Evelynn both love that you can slow the lesson down as much as you need to. Technology is pretty amazing! I would have LOVED to learn this way!

Monday is for math games!
We'll be playing Hot Potato with a ball today while doing times tables. We even include 5yr old Bridget. I'll say, " 5 times zero" or some such other easy problem while throwing the ball to her. When she catches it, I say, "Say zero!" or whatever the answer is, and she yells out the answer. She likes being included. We stand in a circle when we do this, and they toss it back to me as fast as they can with the answer. IF they get it wrong or don't say it quickly enough, they have to sit in the middle of the circle until someone else makes a mistake and takes their place. We have a great deal of fun doing this and it helps get those facts in there solidly.


Soooooooo, off I go to watch movies and read with the kiddos. Hope you're having a fabulous Monday!

Light at the End of the Financial Tunnel

Sooooooo.... THAT was cathartic!

Telling the story of what happened to us regarding our house, credit, family, etc. starting in May of 2007 and ending with the bankruptcy in 2008 was easier to tell than I had thought it would be. Thank-you to everyone for the wonderful out-pouring of support and similar shared stories. I know we are not alone. It is a club I never thought I'd be a part of, but there are some pretty amazingly, faith-filled people in there with us. Everyone seems to be finding their way out of it or through it stronger. God is good.

We are recovering nicely, and budgeted insanely, but all in all in a better place now than we were 4 years ago, a year ago, a month ago, even a day ago. In fact, our bankruptcy, foreclosure fun is finally starting to not cause as many issues and day by day, our credit number is creeping in the right direction.

Maybe the reason that I can so freely tell all of this now is that 2 days ago, we found out that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We've been pre-qualified for a home loan. YES! Can I just tell you how absolutely full of despair some moments and days of this last 4 years have been!? I felt we would never be able to own a home again, and even if we could, what we've been through has made me more than a little gun-shy.

The worst part of the last 4 years has been the renting with 6 kiddos. Every time a wall gets dinged or penned-up by the latest graffiti artist or a curtain rod bent or a window blind broken, I have felt near ulcer-like pains. I have felt such anxiety. I am not a good mom in a rental situation. My kids are not crazy or out of control. They are spirited like their parents, but for the most part they are normal, creative, wonderful kids.

I still remember the rental house we had before the house we built and lived in and lost. Cameron was a little guy of 6. He was trying to be like Daddy and fix things. He figured that meant hammers were good and put a hole straight into a bathroom door. I vowed in that moment to never rent again. I would have loved to have had a parenting moment that didn't include my stress about a landlord. I would have loved for that moment to have been just about the damage and the good intent gone wrong. I would have liked to have put a frame around that hole with the words, "Cameron's 6yr old attempt to fix the house". I would have left it as a constant reminder that even when we want to do our best we can foul it all up.

I've owned a home and lost a home and lived in two rental homes since that hammer in the door. Cameron is 13 now. That's a lot of moving, and I've grown weary of moving. My kids are weary of moving.

I think about how much my husband, Chris wanted that house for me and for our family. He wanted to do everything right. I had always told him that I wanted a little Cape Cod style house with just enough room for us to live in, a big kitchen for cooking, tons of books around me, and a giant garden. For him, he wanted to give me "big". 5 bedrooms on one level, an acre lot, a morning room, theater-sound-system in the family room, and my 2 person soaking tub. I do miss that tub. I loved that house, but never once did I need it. I think about the financial decisions that we have made with good intention that ended poorly. We're way more cautious and cash-based and careful now.

So, there's a light at the end of our financial tunnel. I'm more gun-shy than my husband who still so wants to do things right for his family and what he sees as "right" is a house where his wife doesn't have anxiety about potential hammers through bathroom doors. I can understand and appreciate that. I want that too. I just don't want to rush this. I want to make sure that we do things right- or as right as we can, this time.

I am praying and waiting and dreaming about it all. It is shiny and perfect in the planning and the intention. I pray that it is our final move. I'm tired of moving and feeling transitory and unable to fully unpack my life and stay. I want to know where I'll be buried and where my grandkids will come to see me. I want to plant a garden and be able to plan for the next year with what I learn from the current year. I want land more than a fancy house. I want a future and permanence and space just for us that I can call home and not have anxiety about it not being mine. I want to have friends that I can grow old with and remain goofy with while we drink alcohol and laugh loudly and share deeply at each-others' homes.

I pray and pray and pray and my list is long. But when I come to my prayers for me, they are simple. I just want a home, a permanent, lasting home.

Why I Took a Four Year Hiatus!

Okay, so here I am yet again. Did anyone miss me? Probably not, but that is my own doing. This blog was always my private little spot for random musings on my garden, and even those weren't very many or very often.

I never needed any followers. I mean, to have followers sounds a bit vain, doesn't it? I'd be afraid if I had people hanging on my every blogged word. I might have a bit of performance anxiety and not be able to put down all the randomness I had set out to immortalize in my own little way.

I stopped blogging about my garden and on this blog in general- even though it was never supposed to be JUST about my garden- because as that summer of 2007 wore on and my garden became more prolific and amazing and time-consuming, it became more and more apparent that we were going to be unable to get the re-financing for our house. My garden went from being mine to being temporary. All my hard work would be short-lived and thrown to the fates of the very uncertain future in our home.

We had built the house two years earlier. It was a good house for us with lots of room to grow. I finally had a huge hall wall that was completely painted with chalk-board paint-- this being the true sign that the house was ours. I have always said that my goal was to own a home and be able to paint a wall purple if I so chose with no one to tell me otherwise, but when I finally got the house and the walls, I wanted it all in chalkboard paint with baskets of colored chalk for the kids to make life-sized drawings on whenever they wanted to. We LOVED that wall! We did school and played games and were totally silly on that wall. We did Waldorfy, form-drawing exercises on that wall. I made lists and wrote out Bible verses and decorated for every holiday on that wall.

We had Bridget while we lived in that house.
We had plans for that house.

Our credit was impeccable, beyond reproach. 17 lenders all said, "Oh, Mr. and Mrs. White, of course we can re-finance you!" Our credit score was a pass to the best mortgage lender phone voices, voices dripping with optimism for us and for them. The voices always changed when the appraisal would inevitably come in too low. All because some person at the front of our development had sold his house for far less than it was worth- probably still making good money off of the sale as his had been one of the first houses in the development, unlike ours which was one of the biggest and last houses in the development. We had paid more and financed more and were more vulnerable as the housing market and trends all of a sudden took us for a very scary ride. A ride that gave our house, our mortgage the term upside-down and underwater.

We weren't stupid. We never intended to let the variable rate go up. It would go up in September and we had started to look at refinancing way ahead of time in May. All summer long, we got our hopes up and then dashed by 17 different lenders.

We begged the mortgage company to work with us, but they wouldn't because our credit was too good and our payments had never been late. How backwards is that!? How incredibly messed-up is that!!??

And then? Yes, there's more. They sold our mortgage to another lender-- it was a great package-- never late, etc. However, now, our $20,000 second mortgage was at one lender and our main mortgage was at another and neither would work with us.

The variable rate hit in September and jumped our mortgage up an additional $1100 a month. I wish I was exaggerating. I'm not. Short of selling a child or major organ, there was no way we could swing this. We were sinking fast and could find no help.

We were advised to put the house on the market and attempt a short sale. We were advised to stop paying our mortgage in the hopes that then, then, maybe they'd work with us. It all felt dishonest. We felt sick to our stomaches as the guilt of all the things that you think will never happen to you if you just work hard and budget harder and pay your bills started to happen.

We begged the second mortgage company to release the lien and let us just pay it as a line of credit. They said, no. The stress in our house was palpable and real and affecting everyone.

We finally moved into a rental home in November because I could no longer deal with the stress of trying to keep the house tidy while schooling the kids. We also knew that we were going to lose the house and wanted to get a rental before the loss affected our credit score.

The mortgage company freaked out when they realized that the house would be a short sale if anyone bought it, so they took it off the market making it impossible for us to do anything other than desert our home, our house that we built and painted and lived in and loved in. My garden was gone. It was a small thing compared to everything else, but it had been important to me. It was gone.

In January, the house was foreclosed on. What made me the saddest was seeing it empty and uncared for. I didn't care so much that it wasn't mine as that it wasn't anyone's. When we formally lost our house, I was dealt the shock of finding out that we were pregnant with our sixth little one. I wish I could say that I immediately saw that pregnancy as a blessing, but with how incredibly, terrifyingly ill I had gotten with Toxemia with Bridget, all I felt was fear and despair. Chris was the one who looked at me and said, "I think this is all going to work out." I begged God's forgiveness and prayed, "Jesus, I am sorry, I do, I do trust in You!"

I had a miraculous healing at the beginning of that pregnancy. I was healed in a way that would take more words than I can muster at this late, or should I say early hour.

We kept breathing and doing and parenting and schooling little people and loving just in a different house, a house that I couldn't pain a wall purple or pink or plaid or anything. It worked though.

In June, Sara broke her leg horribly. She got a painful ride to the hospital in an ambulance, and shaved a few years off of my life.

I was very pregnant and in a skimpy preggers nighty attempting to help her get to the bathroom before her leg was casted. This was hard work having to support her broken leg and keep it elevated while helping her to hop along the hall without jarring it all while 6+ months pregnant.

I was startled by loud banging on the kitchen door. There was no way I could get there. i was halfway between Sara's makeshift bed on the sofa and the bathroom! Evelynn called to me and said it was the sheriff. I remember feeling upset because we had had the sheriff visit once before looking for a person who did not live there.

There was more impatient pounding. I got Sara back on the sofa. She was in tears and I was sweating from the exertion. When I got to the door, the look on his face showed what he thought of me. I was lower than dirt at that moment. Nothing is so humiliating as being served papers saying that you are being sued. SUED!!!!

We were sued by the second mortgage company, the same company that we had begged to work with us to remove the lien so we could continue paying them as a line of credit rather than a mortgage! Not only were we sued, but they had nearly doubled the amount, adding in lawyers fees, appraisals on a home I no longer owned, and various other fees.

We talked to a lawyer and our only course of action was to claim bankruptcy. Part of me is embarrassed to tell our tale, but part of me, or maybe more of me is so detached from it. We just kept going as best we could.

Claiming bankruptcy was not easy. We had to sell Chris car back to the dealership and buy him a used car and make sure we only had a certain monetary value of assets. It was incredibly humiliating for Chris.

In September, we had our sixth little one, Sean Kenneth, and just a few days later, were sitting in bankruptcy court in Alexandria, VA.

We knew we were effectively killing all of our good credit and potential for a good credit score for some time. All we had worked so hard for, gone. But then, what remains? That, we found out, as we'd told ourselves all along, but never had to test so strongly, was our family, these six beautiful treasures and the love I share with my husband.

If you had told me in 2006 what would happen to our lives beginning in 2007, I would have thought you were off your meds, had hit your head, or had an incredibly sick sense of humor.

So, no, there are no more garden musings. I expect now that I've gotten this out, I can get back to a bit of blogging. maybe I'll eventually see if anyone wants to read my musings and mumblings and manic moments.

The hiatus is done. Where to from here? Well it's always an adventure!

A visit to the doc

The picture is of my mom, the kiddos, the puppy, Zita, and me. It was taken just last month after my mom had come for a wonderful long visit. This is at the airport--saying Good-bye to Grandma.

Today, I had a doctor's appt with a new doctor. I haven't seen a male OB/Gyn since I was a teenager. 4 out of 5 of my kids (I sound like one of those toothpaste commercials!--"4 out of 5 dentists recommend......") were born with midwives. Anyways, he was a nice guy which was a nice surprise. I knew I was way overdue for an annual and with not having a real period for 10 weeks with no pregnancy and pain, I felt it was time to work up my guts and get to a doctor. Well, I have no vanity left, after having 5 babies, so the "getting undressed, put your feet in the stirrups, scooch to the end of the table" bit didn't bother me. The pelvic exam, however, did. OUCH!!

So, he found a mass on my left ovary--could be a cyst--could be a cyst --could just be cyst --keep repeating. I have another appointment, tomorrow. They are doing an ultrasound on me to figure things out better. I cried when he found whatever he found. Not only did it hurt, but I got scared. 5 little ones and my own mortality flashed before me. I apologized afterwards when we were in his office for the consult. He apologized for the pain, but I said that a lot of the tears were due to being a little freaked out about the whole situation. I told him that my grandma and gr.grandmother both died by 48 and my Aunt Nancy died at 51. All victims of cancer. They joke (or, rather used to joke before my aunt's short and tragic bout with cancer)--morbidly-about the "family curse". It took my aunt in under 3 weeks!! Everyone thought it would hit my mom, but she is a healthy (albeit some weird cancer scares) and active 65 year old who will outlive us all.

Has it hit me? Is this the beginning? What a dark question. I know God will take care of my children. I am not so vain as to believe that I am the only one who could raise my children well --although this is very hard to say as my own pride gets in the way. I pray everyday to be a good parent to my children. I ask for help in raising them so they will honor God with their very lives. I know that I will answer God and God alone at my end about the choices that I make for my family while I am here on Earth. Lord, please make me an instrument of Your work here on Earth. Help me to be worthy of the promises of Christ! Whatever part of my heart is not all for You, take it. I give it to you freely! I do pray that it be God's will that I be healthy so that I can raise these beautiful blessings.

I did have a little moment of anger in all of this. I was thinking, "What if instead of there being some kind of mystery mass, it had been found out that I was pregnant?" How would Chris' family have reacted?? Isn't it backwards and very very sad that I think they would rather hear that I had cancer than that I was pregnant with a sixth child. This thought makes me cry--not only for me but for my husband. God, please soften the hearts of my in-laws. Let them see these dear sweet children as the gifts from You that they are meant to be seen as!! AMEN!

Caught -- a serious pest!

Hah!! I stayed up most of last night researching my garden pests, then was up too too early with my little Bridget Bird (she has a croupy respiratory cold) in a steamy bathroom to clear her lungs. I found that the squash vine borer is easiest to catch at dawn and dusk. Sure enough! At 6am, I woke Sara and Cameron and went bug hunting! We caught her! She is in a jar, and I didn't think to take a picture of her, so I found this picture of ummm...a cousin of hers.
http://bugguide.net/node/view/62655

Then, I checked for vine damage. There was a slit in one of the pumpkin vines, but doesn't look like anything at home, so I covered that part of the vine with soil and then covered lots of other places of vine. I also heaped soil up over the thicker vine/stem of all the squashes and zukes to keep any unseen vine borers from laying eggs where the plant is most susceptible. I watered all of the places that I had covered/buried so that roots will form. This way, if I do have a borer, it won't take the whole plant.

I am feeling a bit better about the war with the beasties. Feeling a bit victorious right about now. Doing a little touchdown dance, and yet, I know that I will need to check everyday now. There were squash bug nymphs all over the scaloppinis!! Dead now, but I am sure they'll be back. I thank God for the great wisdom He has bestowed upon me. Always watchful is the message of the day. God gives us the strength and knowledge to defeat our enemies. We just need to be watchful and when in too deep, call for help. I must take the steps, but trust the path. Jesus, help me to always trust in you!!

Middle-of-the-night-musings

Well, here I am, in the middle of the night, composing my very first blog. Ummm........Yay!!

I have wanted a garden for more years than I can remember, and now that I have one, I am so happy. It is growing so well. God is so truly good to me. I have harvested 15 gallon bags of lettuce, 3 long Satsuki Midori cukes, 9 regular cukes, and many many zucchini and round french zucchini. This is so gratifying as it is only June--okay, I guess technically, it is now July 1.

I am so upset! Here I was glowing in my garden success and I didn't know to look for pests, or what those pests would look like. I feel so incredibly STUPID!! I wonder if Adam knew what he was to be protecting the Garden of Eden from, or if he, like me, got wrapped up in the beauty of it and didn't pay close attention to the danger that can sneak up on you when you feel most secure!!

Okay! So, now I know. I have lost my largest French zucchini plant --the one we called "The Monster." Tomorrow, I know what to do. I have to look for the signs of squash vine borers. I thought squash bugs were the worst predator--turns out it is this lovely red and black moth that lays miniscule eggs that turn into larva that bore into the stem of the squash and eat their way out destroying the plant from the inside!! Oh, the lessons we can take from a garden!

My garden middle-of-the-night musings: So, how's this for an analogy? We don't see those small sins until they become a large habit that can end up sapping our control. I love the quote--wish I knew who to give credit to-"We are either all for God, or we're not." Powerful statement!! A beautiful moth that leaves undetectable eggs (But God sees all!) that end up taking over the plant when full grown!!

Here is a picture of "The Monster". I'll post a picture tomorrow when I go critter hunting in the garden.