Will No One Rid Me of This Troublesome Cake?*

I have a major sweet tooth. It is very hard for me to pass up a dessert. And I am blessed with a fairly high metabolism. So I can get away with a cookie here and a piece of cake there. But this has been the Month of Cake in our house. We had three birthdays in October, and last weekend my 6-year-old and I won a cake in the cakewalk at church (we had an All Saints/Reformation "This Is Your Grandfather's Church" party). Evan picked it out for the way it looked on the outside, but then decided he didn't like the inside (it's a lemon-flavored cake). I, on the other hand, like it very much. And I have slowly been making it disappear.

This is not good. Saturday Evan will get together with some of his friends for a belated birthday party (he was sick on his actual birthday last week, but we still had a family cake). So that means yet another cake is coming--the fifth to come through our front door in a month. Thanksgiving and Christmas are only weeks away, as is the likelihood not only of holiday meals and parties but of multiple edible gifts from the wonderful people that my husband and I work with in church and community music ensembles. I don't have the money to go out and buy all new clothes. There are already a number of things in my closet that I am avoiding these days because I dread trying to squeeze into them. Thank goodness for stretchy jeans (I never, ever thought I would say that). But I have got to quit eating.

And yet . . . dark chocolate truffles from Trader Joe's, chocolate covered raisins from the Girl Scouts, French Silk pie from Market Day, homemade pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving (which no one in the house eats but me), egg nog, Bailey's Irish cream, Christmas cookies . . . they're all coming. Sigh. What is a dyed in the wool sweet tooth with no self-control to do?

*Name that allusion.

Raking Leaves

One of our rakes broke, but Trevor the Resourceful is undeterred.

I think this is what they call a "Leaf Salutation."

The whole point of raking leaves is for 6-year-olds to play in them, no?

There's a pretty girl under there somewhere!

"What's gonna work? Team work!"

"Hey, who turned out the lights?"

"Woof! I wanna play, too!"

Friends forever.

Never let it be said that this mom makes her children do all the work.

Hmmm, what to do with these?



LEAF FIGHT!

Life is good.

Head Scratcher

So, on the radio this morning I heard a report on the exit polling yesterday. It went something like this:

"The majority of voters reported that President Obama was not a significant factor in their vote. Instead, the issue about which they were most concerned was the rapid expansion of the federal government and increased federal spending."

Huh?

Let me rephrase that.

HUH?

I want to watch this show

There's a new show on ABC. It's an updated version of the old series (miniseries?) "V." I remember watching the old one some years ago--it was about space aliens who supposedly want to be our friends but who really want to eat us.

Here's an excerpt of an article in the Chicago Tribune about the new "V":

Imagine this. At a time of political turmoil, a charismatic, telegenic new leader arrives virtually out of nowhere. He offers a message of hope and reconciliation based on compromise and promises to marshal technology for a better future that will include universal health care.

The news media swoons in admiration -- one simpering anchorman even shouts at a reporter who asks a tough question: "Why don't you show some respect?!" The public is likewise smitten, except for a few nut cases who circulate batty rumors on the Internet about the leader's origins and intentions. The leader, undismayed, offers assurances that are soothing, if also just a tiny bit condescending: "Embracing change is never easy."

So, does that sound like anyone you know? Oh, wait -- did I mention the leader is secretly a totalitarian space lizard who's come here to eat us?

Welcome to ABC's "V," the most fascinating and bound to be the most controversial new show of the fall television season. Nominally a rousing sci-fi space opera about alien invaders bent on the conquest (and digestion) of all humanity, it's also a barbed commentary on Obamamania that will infuriate the president's supporters and delight his detractors.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

For the record, your round unvarnish'd blogger is NOT responsible for this "found" image, which shows the top two shelves of our pantry. Evan is--once again--too short to arouse suspicion. The tallest person in the house was out of town all weekend. That leaves two other sufficiently tall ones, one of whom has already pled innocent. Hmmm, that sort of narrows the field, now doesn't it? Do I hear a mea culpa somewhere, out there?

Found Poem

In recent days I have posted several "found" items. For those who may not know, a piece of "found" art or literature is one that was not intended as such but is instead a natural product of life. In art it might be an accidental convergence of everyday household objects that create a striking visual image or bespeak something more significant going on beneath the surface. In literature it could be a casually jotted message from one family member to another, an excerpt of a newspaper article, or even a passage from something as mundane as a shopping list or owner's manual. In literature there is an entire genre known as "found" poetry that actually consists of crafted poems masquerading as found ones. William Carlos Williams is one of the best known practitioners, and his poem "This Is Just to Say" a famous example.

Since I have been having fun with the "found" concept on my blog the last day or so, you can imagine my surprise at finding a poem in my email inbox this morning. It was a note from my husband, who has been out of town since Thursday, serving as the musician for a Doxology conference in Schuyler, Nebraska this weekend.

Here's what he sent me (I am reproducing it here with his reluctant permission):

Dearest Cheryl,

I had this thing.
It was called a day.
It was quite beautiful.
Blue sky.
Peaceful prairie.
Vitamin D.
Gentle wind.
Beautiful view.
Time to think.
Space to enjoy.
Joyness.

Only one problem . . .
I couldn't share it with you!
See you tomorrow late (1am).
Love you. Always.
Phillip

Speaking of finding masterpieces right under one's nose, I dare say that is exactly what I did when I first set my sights on the above poem's author some 25 years ago. I knew from the first moment that we met that here was something different--a one-of-a-kind piece that would be all I would ever need in the art gallery of my life. How very right I was.

I love you always, too, Phillip, and all of us here at the Museum will be glad when that big, cold empty space where you should be is inhabited once again.

Found Cuteness

Can you tell he's not a morning person?

Found Art

I think it has some real possibilities, don't you? I call it "Juice With Straw on Mantel."

If it's not art, well then, biology. (The teenagers are studying bacteria right now.)

The glass apparently sat there for several days. I never noticed it. Other people noticed but saw no reason to remove it. And as with all good art, there's actually a story here. Anyone wanna guess which member of the family is responsible for inadvertently creating this artistic moment? And what the back story is?

Watch and Enjoy

I know--people send you links and tell you to watch them and there's so little time in the day. But believe me, this is worth it. One of the best live performances I have ever seen (not that I actually saw it live, but how I wish I had). A much younger James Taylor and Carly Simon having more fun than a body should be allowed to have. Watching this just makes me feel good. You watch, too (with apologies to Robert Frost).

Where Have I Been?

Obviously, not here!

This weekend I took my son to a chess tournament in Cleveland. We left Friday morning, stayed Friday and Saturday night with friends, and drove home Sunday night, finally hitting the sheets at about 2:00 a.m. Monday morning. It was a great weekend. I enjoyed some time with some of my homeschooling Lutheran friends, and my son tied for second place in the tournament! With the rating points gained he is inching ever closer to being a Master.

Yesterday was supposed to be my "re-entry" day--getting back into the routine, catching up on chores, etc., but with only five hours of sleep under my belt I had a hard time getting going. And I got sucked into a blog fight. I don't know if it was worth the time I put into it. But for inquiring minds who want to know, here it is.

Sometimes when these things break out I can't help thinking of John Belushi in Animal House:

Food fight sound bite Animal House sound bites

Another

Another laugh-out-loud comment about the imploding Obama administration, this one from the ever brilliant Victor David Hanson:

"Sending creepy people out to say creepy things does not make sense, when a hit network loves showing Americans how these creepy people say creepy things."

Full article here.

Can They Really Be That Clueless?

The picture made me laugh out loud. Read Roger Simon's column--"Is the Obama White House as dumb as it seems?"--here.

Trying Out a New Look

Can't decide if I like it. I was just getting a little tired of all that pink. I'm really not crazy about pink. I rarely wear it (red-headed complexion & all). My favorite colors are greens and browns--in fashion, I'm known as an "autumn." But I also like jewel tones--jade, deep blue and burgundy. It was the burgundy I liked about my previous template.

But I don't know . . . this one is just so . . . white.

Might be good for the next few months, though. It looks kind of snowy. And the brightness could be a blessing. With winter coming on, I need all the light I can get.

People Who Need People

I took Evan to the park Sunday afternoon. It was a fall day fit for the movie screen, cool and breezy and full of color, with footballs flying and a playground overrun by noisy, breathless children. A number of them were involved in a group game, calling each other by name as they scrambled over the slide/climbing structure. As I pushed Evan on the swing, he watched them thoughtfully, then turned to me and quietly stated, "They know each other."

Now, you have to understand, Evan is my extrovert. He wants to know EVERYONE. Nothing makes him happier than to be around people, many people, especially children. That's not to say he doesn't sometimes feel a little shy. But the shyness does not detract from his enjoyment of social contact. He needs it in a way that the rest of his family does not.

So, back to the conversation.

Evan: "They know each other."

Me: "Yes, I think they do."

Evan: "They don't know me."

Me: "No, honey, they don't know you."

Evan, soaking this in, brow furrowing ever so slightly: "Why does God make it so people don't know each other?"

Ohhh-kaaay. How to answer this one?

"Evan, it's not that God makes people not to know each other, but that He just makes so many people! There are too many people in the world for us to know them all. We could never learn all their names! But you know lots of people. You have friends at gym class, and Sunday School, and church. Those are the people you know. They are YOUR friends."

It's times like this I feel sorry for my youngest in that he doesn't have a playmate in the house. There are eight years between him and his big sister, eleven between him and his big brother. My oldest two children had each other to play with; Evan is often on his own. And there aren't children in the neighborhood that he can play with. We arrange play dates as we are able, but it's difficult to carve out the time and coordinate with other parents. Sometimes when we go to a playground or similar place Evan will buddy up with someone for just that short period of time. He considers these temporary playmates to be friends and has been known to cry over not seeing some of them again. He still thinks about and misses several children in last year's preschool class who left the class early in the year. Much more than my other two children, he needs people. But more and more I think that I could have an endless supply of playmates lined up, one for every day of the year, and it would still not be enough, because there would still be people in the world Evan doesn't know. And his need for connectedness is so profound, he would still feel deprived. I'm not sure if they have a personality test with a scale broad enough to measure this child's extroversion. And here he finds himself growing up in a house full of introverts. Somehow, though, I have a feeling the rest of us are going to be doing some "growing" of our own over the next few years.

New fiction . . .

. . . by a young author of my acquaintance:

Riversong: Path to Paradise

It's also available in paperback.

If you are a fan of anthropomorphic fiction, quest or "road" stories, allegory, or themes of love, friendship and sacrifice, this novella is worth your consideration. Suitable for age 10 & up, with polished, mature writing of the highest quality.

And if you're interested, I think I can arrange for an autograph.

LOL

Last night we had a friend stay overnight. She has never visited before, so shortly after her arrival Evan (age 5) and I were giving her the grand tour of the house. When we got to the back of the house I pointed out "our aging sunroom." I frequently use this phrase because although the room has its charm it also has significant problems. My friend is aware of some of the problems we have had (and still continue to have) and she nodded in understanding. When we went on to the next room, Evan took over as tour guide, proudly announcing, "And this is our aging family room. And this is our aging couch." On to the next room. "And this is our aging dining room. And this is our aging dining room table. And this is . . . "

Out of the mouths of babes.

Deja Vu

My oldest son, a 17-year-old nationally ranked high school chess player, has been giving weekly chess lessons to his little brother (now 5, going on 6 years old). It's a great situation all the way around, enriching little brother's homeschool "curriculum" (I put the word in quotation marks because I don't think kindergarteners need much in the way of a formal curriculum) and providing valuable teaching experience for his big brother. When we first tried chess instruction for Evan he didn't take to it, so we dropped it. But lately he has really been enjoying and looking forward to his lessons.

Evan had his chess lesson yesterday. This morning when he woke up the first words from his lips were, "Mommy, can I have another chess lesson today? I want to see what the next rule is." He then started rattling off some of his recently learned chess facts, i.e., "You can only castle one time. JUST ONE TIME."

Hmmm. Only time will tell, but I can't wondering if we may be in for another wild and woolly ride on the Scholastic Chess Train.

14 Years Ago Today

At the hospital:

At home, a few days later:

That is one happy big brother.

Happy birthday, Caitlin!

Friendly Disagreements

Pastor Stuckwisch has some interesting thoughts about communication this week. His main point has to do with the difficulty of civil debate. In a culture that so highly values self-esteem and sensitivity and political correctness it can be hard to disagree with others, particularly friends, because disagreement is often taken as a personal affront. (Does anyone else find it ironic that in this era of "niceness" there seems to be a coincidental decline in awareness of good manners? But I digress.) We have a hard time separating people's ideas from the people themselves. Somehow we think that if someone disagrees with us it means they are attacking us personally. Yet think about the political commentators and politicians who go after each other on television and then shake hands and enjoy a beer together afterward. Think about the prosecutors and defense attorneys who do the same. Think about James Carville and Mary Matalin, for goodness' sake. It IS possible for people to hold different opinions and still be friends, family members, members of the same church, etc. But it takes a little more work, I think, than maintaining a relationship with someone who thinks exactly the same as you. There's a certain comfort in knowing you agree with someone. It's a nice feeling. It binds you together and sort of makes you feel like you're on the same team. As Pastor Stuckwisch notes, it fosters a feeling of "us" against "them." So our wont, when differences come up, is to gloss over them or pretend they don't exist and look for that thing we can agree on so we can decide we really are the same after all. And yet that does not serve the cause of thoughtful debate, nor does it really serve the cause of friendship, because to pretend that we agree when we don't is ultimately dishonest. And the relationship that can weather a healthy debate (one that is civil and plays by the rules and doesn't resort to emotional games) is going to come out stronger in the end, as are the ideas of the parties in question. Even if no one "wins" the debate, the process of thinking and sharing and asking questions (again, if it's handled well) is only going to be a positive thing, assisting understanding, strengthening resolve, or perhaps leading to a reassessment of one's opinion. And what better forum is there for the exploration of ideas than the safety of a valued relationship, one that is based on trust and respect? Really, it makes a lot more sense to have such discussions with people whose opinions you care about than with acquaintances, or worse, faceless, nameless people out in cyberspace that you don't even know.

On the other hand, I suppose a case could be made that it is easier to engage in purely idea-driven discourse with someone you don't know because then the issues of feelings and personalities and influence don't color the debate and you can stick strictly to the world of ideas. If you aren't emotionally invested in the other person, you won't care about hurting his or her feelings and you won't be as likely to get yours hurt either, right? Yet if I don't care about someone then I also don't really care about what he thinks (unless he's a known expert on the topic at hand). And if I don't know someone it is a lot harder to ascertain if we are even in the same universe of thought. If we have different world views and underlying assumptions and values, there may be no point to entering into any sort of discussion at all. In fact I am acquainted with some lovely people whom I also know to be completely politically or theologically different from me, and by unspoken mutual agreeement we carefully avoid "those" subjects so as to preserve a pleasant and enjoyable relationship. Some might say that's cowardly; I call it sensible. I also know people about whose views on a multitude of topics I have no clue, and I am happy to keep it that way because I don't have the time or energy to do all the groundwork that would need to be done to get past surface conversation.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how very few people in the world I feel that it's worth disagreeing with. It's hard to do so with family members. Usually there is too much history, too many complicating factors, too much emotional baggage to be able to have a healthy debate. It's hard to do so with acquaintances, for the reasons outlined above. It's hard to do so with casual friends, because while there may be a veneer of good feelings the parties may have false assumptions about one another or the relationship may be too fragile or new to survive a significant difference of opinion. And it doesn't seem worth taking the time to disagree with strangers. (It's why I don't see the point of getting into online debates with people I don't know. Why do they care what I think and vice versa?)

So what should you take away from this post? If you ever find me disagreeing with you, you should take it as a high compliment and a testament to your specialness. (Except for my husband, of course, since I NEVER disagree with him. ☺ )

Goodbye, Free Exchange of Ideas

President Obama has given away the Internet. Does anyone have any doubt about what this will do for the cause of freedom?