We are in TROUBLE!

Sometimes I picture American politicians secretly snickering behind our backs, wondering just how much subterfuge we will endure before there is pandemonium of titanic proportion among the people. It's bad enough that there is so much inherent corruption, that the corporations and their lobbyists are the real "voice" (and that companies like Halliburton determine the kind of world we live in), but the money spent on these campaigns is unconscionable.

The most recent senate races are said to have cost at least 2 BILLION dollars! Something is wrong with people when they choose to put their money into a bid that is going to further their own agenda and ignores the needs of the suffering. Could 2 BILLION dollars not have been better spent?

I have never been so repulsed as I was with the latest senate campaign in Missouri. All of the candidates auspiciously promised that they are what this country needs; offering up some sort of distant panacea as if their words had an ounce of probity to them. More often than not they were maliciously dogging their opponents, as if "we the people" aren't smart enough to see through the CRAP.

The Bush campaign proved in 2004 that [some of] our votes don't really count (contrary to what they would have you believe), that elections can be bought and votes can be manipulated (and even thrown out if the governor of the state happens to be your BROTHER and he chooses to do so, at random). Oh, forgive me, that is all just coincidence, right?

The war in Iraq (and subsequent war on terrorism) is, of course, the biggest issue concerning most of us, or it should be. The Christian right (Bush's greatest fans) push their so-called "moral" agenda, as if the rest of us are incapable of determining what is actually moral, that God is only real to "them" and for all of the love that Jesus was about, they would have us believe that spreading hate and discontent and killing innocents is Ok somehow. Every human is precious in the eyes of God and Christians should be trying to stop this mess, not funding it! I couldn't say it any better than Robin Meyers, a minister and peace activist: "When you claim that our God is bigger than their God and that our killing is righteous while theirs is evil, we have begun to resemble the enemy we claim to be fighting, and that is immoral. We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us."

Most of you middle classers, like me, are sitting at home in your peaceful abodes, eating more food than you should, driving gas-guzzling cars that are dependent on oil that fueled (no pun intended) this war in the first place, buying too much plastic (try researching what goes into that stuff) from a store that imports it from a country who won't help us and who pays children 7 cents a day to make the stuff we're buying that will be in a landfill for millions of years to come. Washington pays no heed to the environmental changes the earth is undergoing due to our pitiful, noxious lifestyles. We are enjoying a prosperity unlike any other culture and are excessively wasteful while the corporations we support with our dollars enjoy record profits. HELLOOOO! There is a WAR going on! Innocent women and children are being killed, starved and tortured but we are fat and happy. How do we stand ourselves?

Sorry I don't have a bandaid to fix our problems. Like most of us, my comfort level is fine, I don't have any family members in politics and I don't have any money so I'll just sit back and watch the nonsense unfold and pray that God has a sense of humor.

Early Retirement

Last April, dh stopped going to work. He simply could not do it anymore. You see, he has a nasty form of arthritis called Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS) and has had it since he was about 16.

He has had chronic pain ever since I've known him (we were high school sweethearts). His dad had the same disease and was disabled because of it. AS causes loss of disc space in the spine with resulting kyphosis (hunched over appearance) and loss of height. The spinal vertebrae actually fuse together so there is subsequent loss of mobility. AS not only affects the spine, it also affects all of the major joints and causes systemic problems, such as organ damage. There are varying degrees of the severity of the symptoms and dh has had a very difficult time over the years.

After a terrible exacerbation last spring, he was unable to get more than a few hours of sleep at night. He was up during the night off and on, taking hot baths and/or showers, using the heating pad, taking antinflammatory drugs and on more than one occasion I had to get up to assist him up the stairs. He started walking with a cane and was really having a lot of side effects from his medication (he will only take ibuprofen or aspirin, nothing stronger). He started experiencing a lot of stomach cramping, skin rashes, dizziness, weight loss and many other symptoms. He has missed a lot of work over the years due to his disease.

So, after much prayer and discussion, we decided that he would be better off at home where he could manage his disease better (when he's inactive he gets stiffer, so he exercises which results in more pain, a very vicious cycle). Thankfully, he worked for the City of Springfield and they were very accomodating when he gave his notice. He was able to draw all of his remaining ill time which gave him a paycheck for 3 full months, then he was able to apply for partial retirement based on his disability. We have worked for many years toward living without debt so we were in a position that he COULD stay home.

I am happy to say that the LAGERS union approved his disability after reviewing his medical records and Dr's recommendations and he is now officially retired.

DH is now doing better. Not having to get up at 5 am allows him to get more sleep. He no longer has to drive around in a vehicle all day which caused him significant pain and stiffness. He is able to exercise in short stints throughout the day which helps him maintain mobility in his neck, hips, and lower back. He is able to focus on eating wholesome foods and that seems to help keep inflammation at bay. Remarkably, he looks fantastic and has a six pack on his abs that is to die for!

Running--er, JOGGING for charity

The St. John's annual Sunshine Run was October 14th. Part of the proceeds from the 5K went to THE BREAST CANCER FOUNDATION OF THE OZARKS--a charity I am particularly fond of and if you have money to give away, well, they are the real deal. Anyway, I decided to run in the 5K race.

I had not run a race since I ran cross country in high school (just a FEW years ago). Running is something I do to stay in shape, to get the proper amount of aerobic exercise, and you could say I'm addicted to the endorphins. That is enough motivation for me, although I admit I do have a running shoe ad taped on my fridge that reads: I COULD SPEND MORE TIME REDECORATING MY PLACE. It would give me a feeling of accomplishment. And I wouldn't feel guilty if I skipped a few days of redecorating. But picking out paint colors wouldn't make my butt look better in jeans. Keep running....

The 5K race was at 7:30 in the morning-ugh! I never run in the morning; studies have shown that your body does best running in the early afternoon. That should have been my first clue that it might be a little difficult. I don't run for speed, I run for endurance and currently am running for an hour 3 times a week. The distance is between 6-7 miles. And, did I mention that I run on hills? rocky hills? uphill both ways? That may be a little stretch but I figured a short little 3.1 mile race on the flat pavement would be a piece of cake! Boy, was I ever humbled!

First of all, I wasn't sure how to prepare myself. I drink a lot of water every day and so I started by getting up at 4 am to eat breakfast and proceeded to drink three liters of water! Not smart for a 40 year old woman who has had 4 kids, if you know what I mean. I nearly missed the start of the race because I had to pee!

As if bladder control wasn't a big enough problem, I locked my keys in my car. Well, not all of my keys. I had nightmares for days before the race, thinking I was going to lock my keys in my car because, well, that's just me. Sure enough, I took the key off of my keychain, put it in my secret zipper pocket in my running pants, ran to the bathroom with my jacket on because it was so cold, and when I went back to my car to put my jacket inside, the key I had removed was actually the ignition key and it wouldn't open the doors!

So, here I am 2 blocks from the starting line and the race is starting in 2 minutes. I still have my [heavy] jacket on, which I cannot possibly run in so after sprinting to where I'm supposed to be, I see a kindly looking woman and asked her to hold my jacket. She said "sure" and I asked her where I could find her after the race. She said she'd drop it off at the lost and found booth and I told her just to take it to the BREAST CANCER FOUNDATION (BCFO) booth.

It's 35 degrees, I'm struggling for air after sprinting and stressed because I have to be at work as soon as the race is over and I can't get in my car. There are 1500 people crowded onto Walnut street, packed together like sardines and I have to PEE. What was I thinking?

The emcee counts down from 10 and we are off! This is a RACE and I am wedged in between all of these people and start moving my feet but for some reason, I'm not going anywhere. Finally, the crowd starts to thin a little as the "good" runners pull away from the crowd. I am starting to get into a rhythm and look down at the ground and see a wallet, thinking "who would have their wallet in their pants during a race?". Then I looked up just in time to collide with the moron who dropped his wallet and had turned around in the swarm of forward moving bodies to run back for it. AAAAGGHH! We hit so hard that I nearly fell down and I shouted "DAMMIT!" without thinking, amid a group of schoolchildren.

Suddenly, my body started feeling very strange. I don't know if it was the cold, the sudden impact or just the adrenaline rush but I started hurting all over. It felt as if my legs would not hold me up and my chest felt like it was being crushed (and I had to Pee). I slowed my pace and just kept going, running through the discomfort (that's putting it lightly). Little kids and women pushing baby strollers were passing me! This was NOT my idea of fun!

The last half mile of the race I finally regained my strength and kicked it into high gear, but it was too late. I finished 3.1 miles in a little over 27 minutes.

I went to the BCFO booth and the nice lady had, indeed left my jacket there. I then used a friend's cell phone to call POP-A-LOCK. The lady was very helpful but then she said she had to have a credit card number to make sure I was good for the money. I sort of lost it then and took out my frustration on this poor woman who was only trying to do her job. It's not her fault that there are so many LOSERS who don't pay for services rendered. I told her that if I had my purse with me, I would also have my keys and THEN I WOULDN'T NEED THEIR HELP!! SHEESH!

After my little melt-down, she said I could just pay with a check; the man came within 15 minutes, had the car open within 20 seconds and I was on my way. It was an experience I will not soon forget and now that it's over , I can say that I will probably do it again next year!

I'm SORRY!!

Once again, I've not blogged for weeks, and I broke my promise. To those of you who live to read my entries, God help you. I just haven't been inspired lately--too distracted, too much going on, dh despises when I'm on the computer, etc., etc.

Enough excuses; dh isn't here right now so I better write while I have the chance.....

Natural Flea Control

Our dogs have fleas. They have been living outdoors all summer long and now that it's getting colder, Sisterwho is pleading their case; she wants to bring them back inside for the winter.

We have looked for natural flea killers and researched it on the internet. We have bought some of the once- a-month type stuff that you squirt on their back at the feed store. It's active ingredient is Pyrethrin which is derived from Chrysanthemums and so is as natural as I thought we could get. It worked pretty good, even better than the costlier topicals that we've bought from the vet and it has a lovely citrus frangrance. Still, it is toxic to puppies and humans.

Did I mention that our dog is about to have puppies? At least, we think she is. She had a doggie period a couple of months ago and Sisterwho woke up one morning to see something she wished she hadn't. She occasionally lets the dogs come into her room at night through her bedroom window if they cry and beg long enough. This particular morning, when Chewy was still in heat, Sisterwho said that when she woke up our male dog, Beau, had a really satisfied look on his face, smoked a cigarette and rolled over and went to sleep. Or...something like that.

For awhile we didn't think Chewy had conceived. She didn't look or act pregnant (no strange food fetishes or waddling around). However, now she is starting to show some signs, unless it is just wishful thinking on our part.

First of all, our kitten is suckling her. I looked out the kitchen window onto the deck the other day and saw the kitten with it's paws on Chewy's stomach and heard suck, suck, sucking sounds. Chewy was willing to be milked for a few minutes before getting up and walking off. The kitten takes advantage of every opportunity to suckle. Sisterwho insists that Chewy has milk coming from her teats and that her belly is visibly larger and I have to admit, she has been acting a little strange the past couple of days; i.e., not eating much and being a little standoffish.

Anyway, back to the fleas. We didn't want to put anything on Chewy and risk the puppies' health so I read about using Diatomaceous Earth for flea control. You just rub it all over the dog's fur and into every nook and cranny so the fleas have nowhere to run. I only know that it somehow interferes with the fleas ability to breathe and so they jump off or die. We went to the health food store where I had seen it many times and bought a bag.

Believe it or not, it works! We put it on today and the dogs were running in circles while the fleas were doing the same, trying to get to a safe harbor. Within minutes of applying it, the fleas were inactive and there were fewer of them; hopefully they will be completely wiped out and the dogs can come inside. I'm anxious to see how often it has to be reapplied. I'll keep you posted!

Evaporation Made Simple

We have a rain gauge mounted on a fencepost and every Wednesday the kids check it and record the amount of rain for the week. This week, it was empty. "But", Sisterwho said, "it rained a couple of days ago". "Aha", I thought to myself, "the perfect opportunity to discuss the effects of heat and humidity and resulting evaporation"! But before I could begin, Littlewho said, "It was the sun, it dries up the water". Sister and I both looked at him and I know she was thinking the same thing I was, namely-"How does he know that?".

I said, "Littlewho, you're correct, and how did you figure that out?". He gave us a look that appeared to say, "Ok, you simple-minded fools" and then he said, "Well, you know that song about the Itsy Bitsy spider....."and out came the sun and dried up all the rain.....?".

Duh!

The 100 Mile Diet

THE 100 MILE DIET– The typical-American meal is made up of foods that have traveled an average of 2,000 miles to get from farm to table. While this practice is convenient and may provide us with greater variety, it also has a negative impact on energy conservation, greenhouse gases, and oil dependence. In fact, industrial agriculture and long-distance food transportation generate between 20-25% of all climate destabilizing greenhouse gases in the U.S. Given this fact, buying food that is locally or regionally grown can dramatically reduce energy consumption and greenhouse pollution. Enter a new trend, started by Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon: the 100 mile diet. "We're the kind of people that ride our bikes everywhere, so we wondered why we were going to all this effort when our food was flying around the world," says Smith. The diet trend, which requires participants to eat only foods grown within a 100 mile radius, is catching on across North America. Philadelphia journalist Elisa Ludwig took up the 100 mile diet for 12 days to learn more about the foods she eats. "If eating local is a moral imperative, then every meal is an opportunity to do the right thing," says Ludwig, who kept a daily journal of the experience. You can read her journal entries at http://www.organicconsumers.org/2006/article_1463.cfm.

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"Lucky"

Last week I really did a number on myself. I have done some really stupid things over the years and my Mom always says she should have named me "Grace". This last incident sort of takes the cake.

I was playing horseshoes with dh last Tuesday. He was practicing for a tournament and I was trying in earnest to be interested in the game (a big stretch); I thought maybe I would enjoy playing more if I could do it without my horseshoes ending up bouncing down the hill with every throw.

So, I was getting instruction from dh, who, by the way, is good at everything he does and therefore gets frustrated trying to teach someone like me how to do something that requires coordination. It was cool outside that morning and I had a jacket on when we started throwing. I became warm and took my jacket off and tied it around my waist (can you see where this is going?). As I was preparing to throw my horseshoe I was completely and utterly focused on my foot placement, my stance, my grip on the horseshoe, and I had my left arm placed at a 90 degree angle to my body for the utmost balance (who knew there was such technique to horseshoe throwing?). With my right arm I prepared to throw the horseshoe the 40 foot distance to the stake. As I hurled it forward, it became entangled in my jacket and instead of flying ahead of me, was jerked backward toward my face and clunked me square in the forehead.

For the first second I thought, "OW, that hurt!". In the next few seconds I became lightheaded
and sat down on the ground with my hand on my head. In the meantime dh had run into the house for ice and I was sitting there whimpering--it REALLY hurt. Littlewho started crying and said "Mommy, are you oK?". I mustered up the strength to say "Yes, baby, I'm OK". Then he shrieked "YOU'RE BLEEDING! ARE YOU GOING TO DIE??". I opened my eyes long enough to see a puddle of blood forming on the ground between my legs.

Dh came back with the ice and handed it to me so I could place it on my head. I was still moaning and once dh knew I was alright he couldn't contain the laughter. He proceeded with a list of comments-- "How on earth?....I didn't know horseshoes was a contact sport.....this must be a first.....we'll be telling this story 20 years from now". By now I was laughing and crying at the same time.

Dh asked me to remove the ice from my head so he could survey the damage. I assumed I had a small cut but when he said, "Oh shit", that was my clue that it was probably a little worse. When I finally made it into the house and looked into the mirror I was shocked to see a gaping 3 inch long, deep gash to my forehead that obviously needed professional attention.

8 stitches later, I am fine but with yet another scar and 2 black eyes. My parents love to tell the story that when I was a rough and tumble 3 year old, trying to keep up with the boys, someone said, "You're never going to be Miss America if you keep getting owies!", to which I shrugged my shoulders and glibly replied , "Then I guess I'll just be a scratched up nurse!". Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy!

You know you're a homeschooler when....

Last week we went to the Homeschooling EduFair, the brainchild of Pamela Cooper, one of the homeschooling moms in our community. Pamela (who, I might add, gains nothing financially by doing this) organizes Field Trips for homeschoolers, as well. One never has to look far to find an educational outing to parks, factories, retail stores, government offices, etc. Pamela planned 3 Edufairs this year in Springfield, Monett, and Seymour, recruiting vendors and volunteers to bring resources to all who are interested in home educating.

As we were driving to "South Park" in Seymour, I was coaching the kids regarding their behavior. I asked Littlewho to please NOT say "Son of a..!", which he is in the habit of doing at home. He said "OK, I won't". Then I asked him to remember his manners and if he became upset to avoid performing any Karate kicks on any of the kids. He agreed that he wouldn't do that. I then asked the kids to participate in the Mad Science presentation that Pamela had scheduled and to try to do so with ENTHUSIASM! Suddenly Sisterwho started laughing hysterically and I couldn't understand what all of the carrying on was about.

When she was finally able to speak clearly, Sisterwho said "I was just thinking of that joke book you have". You see, I have a book entitled "The Official Book of Homeschooling Cartoons" by Todd Wilson, a homeschooling dad. We bought it at the Homeschooling Convention this year and have been able to relate to the way the cartoons poke fun at what is a reality in our lives.

One of the cartoons has a picture of a mom driving a minivan with the reflection of her face in the rear-view mirror. She is looking back at the kids with eyebrows furrowed as she is lecturing them. The caption at the top of the page reads "You know you're a homeschooler when...." and there is a conversational bubble indicating the words she is saying:

"Now don't mention that we didn't get up till 9:30 or that your little brother can't read...or that we buy our bread from a store...or that you've seen Disney movies...and whatever you do, try not to say the words Batman or Power Rangers...and for goodness sakes try to act SMART!!!!".

The bottom of the page follows up on the previous caption with "...you panic when your kids go to other homeschoolers' homes."

We had a good laugh and for the record, the kids didn't let me down.

Kindergarten Dropout?

This morning I was listening from the other room as Dh and Littlewho were "doing school". Littlewho was sluggish and not very cooperative after staying up too late the night before.

Dh said "Alright, tell me the U.S. Presidents you know about." Littlewho sighed and started reciting (very slowly and with no enthusiasm), "Washington, George, wife was Martha *sigh*; Adams, John-2nd president; Madison, James-father of the constitution *bigger sigh*; Andrew Jackson-Old Hickory, 7th president. Dad, do I HAVE to do this?".

Dh said, "OK, let's do something different", and he had littlewho start writing his letters and it was immediately apparent that he was in no mood for assistance or correction. After a few minutes he threw down his pencil and said "I can't do it!".

Knowing how frustrated he was getting, Dh said, "Why don't you be the teacher? Teach me something". Littlewho eagerly said, "Do you know why God made the world, I mean, the grass and the trees and the flowers and stuff?" Dh replied "Well, I guess he was bored." Littlewho laughed and said "No silly, he wanted it to be nice and pretty for the people to live and be happy."

"Oh, I see", replied dh.

As I'm thinking about how sweet and angelic this child is his next question to dh was "Do you know why God made serial killers?".

Oh boy, new subject, please.

They went back to working on letters and their sounds; Littlewho still not in a good mood and I could tell by the tone of his voice he was getting really exasperated. I was getting ready to rescue him when I heard dh say, "Let's draw a picture-you draw a picture of me, the teacher, and I'll draw a picture of you, the student."

Littlewho loves to draw and was happily and intently keeping his work hidden from dh. When he was done and it was time to compare photos, I heard dh burst out laughing. While he had drawn a picture of a cute little boy with dimples and cowlicks, Littlewho had drawn a picture of his daddy with horns and fangs.

Garage Sale

We had our first garage sale yesterday on Blackberry Hill. We didn't advertise in the paper, it was one of those spur-of-the-moment, "we need to get rid of this stuff" decisions. The kids wanted to make some money and they decided to do most of the work. Sisterwho did the planning; she considers herself a professional garage-saler after spending so many weekends with Grandma and I have to admit, she knows her stuff!

The day before the sale, they cleaned out the barn, fashioned tables out of plywood, hauled boxes out of the shed and the basement and set everything up. Dh and I told them to price everything cheap; the idea was to get rid of things we don't want while recycling it by keeping it out of a landfill.

Since we are out in the country on a dirt road, we didn't know how many people would show up. Ds19, who is very artistic, prepared 24 great-looking signs indicating the sale would be TH/FRI and we placed them far and wide to direct people to our home. When we arrived home from putting up the signs at 8 pm the day before the sale, there was a truck pulling out of our lane-someone had already stopped to shop!

At 6:30 am on Thursday as we were eating breakfast, our first customer arrived. The kids hurriedly got dressed, inhaled their breakfast and went to attend the sale. From that point on, it was a constant stream of people. The kids met many of the people who live in this area and heard stories from older folks about the people who built our house (Mennonites). We sold a wooden sign that said "ROMANCE" and the man who bought it was born in Romance, MO. And not a person who stopped didn't comment on the views from the top of our mountain. The kids really seemed to enjoy talking to everyone and learning more about this area. Oh, I mustn't forget, a couple of people informed us about the bears and mountain lions that had been spotted in these parts-YIKES!

By 1:30, most of what we had was sold, excepting a few books and misc. items. We decided to forego the sale on Friday and went to take down the signs. We have never had such a good sale, even when we lived in the middle of the city!

Back to School....at Home

Today was our official first day of school. After weeks of preparation and hours of writing lesson plans, I was finally ready and Sisterwho even asked if she could do math (wait, is the sky falling??).

We are studying modern history for a term and then we'll go back to ancient history for the rest of the year. World War II is dh's favorite subject so he will be able to share his wealth of knowledge about Hitler, Stalin, Churchill, Truman, etc.

We are reading The Hobbit for literature, along with Shakespeare's "A Winter's Tale". I would love to find a Shakespeare play to see this fall but after looking at all of the local college's fine arts schedules, there doesn't appear to be a production.

Geography is a study of David Livingstone's "Missionary Travels in Africa". We are learning about him as one of the great abolitionists and his work among African nations earned him tremendous respect there and in the United States. My friend Kim (what would I do without you) gave me the name of a game that facilitates the learning of the geography of Africa--10 Days in Africa--and the kids have already played it several times since it came in the mail yesterday. I just ordered more of the "10 days in ______" games. Currently available are 10 Days in The United States and Europe and they are working on "10 Days in Asia" to come out later this year.

Poetry, Latin, Foreign Language, Theology, Nature Study, Plutarch, Natural History, Composer and Artist studies round out our schedule. Dd and I are also doing a bible study together titled "Beautiful Girlhood".

LittleWho is officially of Kindergarten age but school for him is pretty much doing what we've been doing for the past 5 years; reading quality literature, counting everything that occurs in multiples like fenceposts, trees, stars, raisins, etc. and spending time in nature and cultivating his natural interest in whatever it is he seems to want to know about. Reading is something he hasn't shown particularly great interest in yet, and *gasp*, he doesn't even know his ABC's but according to language expert Ruth Beechick, there is no need to know the alphabet or even the names of the letters to begin reading. She recommends working on the letter sounds first, the rest will come later. Maybe I could convince him that in order to be a Ninja, he must sit still for a few minutes and meditate on schoolwork......

The 2 big boys, Ds21 and Ds19 are in the Blackberry Hill College of Real Life. They are both reading all of the books on my classical booklists, grabbing everything they can get their hands on; both of them are such voracious readers! We are enjoying being together as a family and spending time learning from each other, working on the house and the land and, hopefully, they will carry the practical knowledge with them into their adult lives.

Cree Proverb

Only when the last tree has died
and the last river has been poisoned
and the last fish has been caught
will we realize that we can't eat money.

Youn Wha!

Little Who had his first Tai Kwan Do lesson today. He has patiently waited for several weeks for this day to come, practicing his kicks and spins with the zeal of a true martial artist.

He wants to learn how to hunt and subdue serial killers. Yep, you heard me correctly, serial killers. For months that is all he has talked about and every move he makes is a step to prepare him for his job as a serial killer killer.

Being the martial artist that he is, he has worn a headband (made of gauze that I brought home from work) every day for a very, very long time. It's dingy and dirty but he takes great care to put it away at night and in the morning when he comes out of his room in his undies, the headband is always on his head. The other kids cringe when we go anywhere because it has become rather embarassing to be seen with Captain Underpants. Not only does he wear a headband but he has a belt, holster, and gun strapped on his waist in case he runs into a serial killer trying to abduct one of us out here on the farm (well, ya just never know!).

As we went into the "Y" for Little Who's class, sisterwho asked him to take off his headband. He said "Are you kidding me, I can't do Karate without this!". He didn't care and lucky for us, there was only one other child in the class, a 5 year-old chubby little girl who thought the headband was pretty cool.

Happy 60th Dad! (aka Papa, Indian, Butch or Paul)

Dad's birthday party is over and I confess, I'm exhausted! Planning it was difficult for me because I am unable to make a decision. I debated whether we should have it at his farm, our place, the "lodge", a restaurant, or a bar. I thought if we had it at a bar or restaurant, the kids wouldn't have anything to do. If we had it at any indoor place, it would be smokey, which wouldn't be good for the kids. If we had it at our home, Dad's friends wouldn't know how to get here. I was driving everyone crazy trying to figure out where to do it! Then I spoke with my brother about my dilemma and he said, "Oh, we have to have it at Dad's, he wouldn't want it anywhere else". Gee, I wish I'd spoken with him first!

So, with that major decision out of the way I now needed to decide what to do for food and drink. Grinny (dad's S.O.), Shawshe (my cousin), and I labored over whether to have the party catered, have everyone bring a dish, or do it all ourselves. We decided against the catering because we weren't sure how the caterer's would survive our rowdy crew. It would have been too difficult for everyone to bring something because many of our relatives were coming from out of town. Therefore, we decided to do the food preparation ourselves.

Trash Can Supper

I have an Amish cookbook and had seen a recipe for a "Trash Can Supper". It is just exactly what the name implies, food cooked in a trash can. It sounded like fun to me but the recipe was pretty sketchy and I wasn't sure if I could use any type metal trash can, how much water to put in it, how much of all of the ingredients to use, etc. I looked online, asked everyone I knew, and couldn't find much about it. The recipe said to layer corn-on-the-cob, potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbage and polish sausage--in that order--put it in a trash can and cook it over a fire. I decided to go to the Amish store and ask if they knew how to do the trash can supper so Shawshe (who stayed with me all week to help with the planning) and I headed out to do just that.

Beautiful People

On our way to the Amish store, there was a sign out in front of a house on the highway that said "sweet corn for sale". Knowing I would need a lot of corn, I pulled in to the house. An elderly gentleman came out and with a smile and a handshake said, "Hi, How have you been?" (I'd never seen him before in my life). I asked him how much his sweet corn was and he told me $2 a dozen and after I told him I wanted 3 dozen I said, "by the way, have you ever heard of a trash can supper?". He smiled and said "Sure, we have them all the time at the lodge". I explained that I was going to have one but that I didn't know exactly how so he (Forrest, I can't remember his last name, all I could think of was "Gump") invited me into his home to call his friend who was the chef at all of the "trash can suppers".

I spoke with Mr. Carpenter on the phone and he gave me all of the missing details I needed. He then told me I was more than welcome to use his 60 quart pot instead of a trash can because galvanized steel will leak zinc into your food. Dh was in Springfield at the time, trying to locate a trash can so I told Mr. Carpenter thanks and that I would call him if I needed his pot. He gave me directions to his house just in case I needed to come pick it up.

I thanked Forrest and his wife for their hospitality and sweet corn and left. On my way back to town I called dh and told him that Mr. Carpenter had offered to let us borrow his pot and dh said "go for it" so I drove to Mr. C's house. He not only gave me his pot but also his propane cooker and a full tank of propane and loaded it into my car and the dear man had just had eye surgery that very day. I was so touched by his generosity. I told him that since he had no idea who I was, I would leave him my 5 year old son as assurance that I'd return his stuff. He said "I'll take my chances!".

Shrimp Boil

Now I was getting somewhere but all I could think of was "Are we gonna have enough food?". We had a guest list of around 60 people. Dad is blessed to have a multitude of friends and they are all the type who want to share in his celebration so I had no doubt that most of them would come. Shawshe suggested we have a shrimp boil and red beans and rice, along with the trash can supper. It sounded good and easy and she and my cousin "Pooh" said they would do the cooking.

Keg

I have 4 precious brothers and they aren't much into party planning but when a keg was mentioned, they were happy to oblige! I was just happy that they all said they'd come. My youngest brother volunteered to get the beer--that's right--we had a kegger for my Dad's 60th birthday party. I told you he was a cool guy!

Miscellaneous

The other boys said they'd bring cake, drinks, plates and cups and utensils so it was all covered. I spoke with my oldest brother (who is 11 months older than me) and jokingly said, "I'm doing all of this by myself with no help from you guys!". He replied, "So.....that's how it's always been". I love my bros but one sister would have been nice. Honestly, though, everyone pitched in (sisters-in-law included) and made it a great day for Dad.

Party Day

The day of the party, we all converged on Dad's farm early. It was to be a surprise party scheduled to start at 6pm. My cousin Rick was to arrive at Dad's house early and drag him off on a hunt for a new seat for his truck (currently being held in place with a stump, yep, that's my Daddy). The catering crew (me, dh, Shawshe and my youngest brother) arrived at Dad's house and guess what? He was still there. My Dad doesn't do anything very fast and Rick hadn't been able to get him away from the farm. So, we just started unloading pots and pans, slow cookers, lawn chairs, etc. out of our cars while Dad stood there scratching his head. He knew something was up but no one said a word. Dad knew he better go ahead and leave with Rick so off they went.

The Guests arrive

We had not requested RSVP's from the invitees, that's not really our style--as my cousin Pooh said, it was "Hillbilly Heaven"--so we weren't sure how many people would show up. Well, I should have known that when everyone heard "kegger" they would show up in droves. We invited around 60 people and no less than 60 people showed up. Several of our Aunts, Uncles and cousins came and Dad's friends did not let him down. He was very surprised when people started coming by the carloads.

The food was great! Several people said it was some of the best food they'd ever eaten and I was surprised at how truly easy it was to pull off. There was no shortage of food, either! We sent trays home with several people and still had enough to feed everyone who stayed all night and into the next day.

Afterwards, we had cake and homemade ice cream and Dad opened presents including a bed pan, laxatives, preparation H, and a rubber ducky (of course)! Mostly, he just got 12 packs of beer.

Fear Factor

I won't implicate anyone by naming names but some of the guests had a little too much fun! Many of us stayed the night at the farm, some brought campers and we just crashed on the couches, the floor, and even in the backseats of cars. Early Sunday morning as everyone was slowly coming back to life and sitting outside drinking coffee, my little brother (R) was telling a story that had everyone in stitches. Apparently, he had picked up a large Cicada and a person who was a little, ahem, well, DRUNK, said "Feed it to me!". R said "What??", and the person repeated "FEED IT TO ME!!". R says he pleaded and begged for ? not to eat the bug but he held his hand up to the mystery person's mouth and R saw the cicada disappear, except for a couple of wings that were sticking out the sides because the bug was too big to be consumed in one piece.

The Party's Over

We spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess and then took a break and went to the creek for a swim. It was a wonderful time and Dad said it was the best birthday party he'd ever had. He also said, "Gosh, I wonder what my 100th birthday will be like!!??". I can't wait but when he's 100, I'll be 80.....it's wearing me out just thinking about it!

Ohhhh, I've been so busy lately I haven't had time to blog. There is a lot going on on blackberry hill.

We've been trying to keep up with the blackberries and I have finally relinquished them to the june bugs. I have suffered the last of the thorns this year and I won't be going to work again with berry stained hands, feeling the need to explain to everyone that I'm not a mechanic and that's not dirt under my nails!

Our 19 year old son flew home from Florida on Saturday, he's been gone for 4 months and it was a happy reunion! I've missed him terribly. He is happy to be home but left a girl in Florida so the saga is not over, I'm afraid. Having all of my children home where I know they are safe and happy gives me such a sense of peace. I will enjoy it while I can!!

Dad's 60th birthday is August 8th and he let us know a year ago that he wanted a party although he hasn't said a word about it since. Grinny, dad's S.O., my cousin Marcia and I have been working on a plan. My dad is a sweet, kind-hearted, loving person as evidenced by the number of friends he has; we have put together a list of his closest friends and there are at least 35. That, along with our family will amount to about 60 people, YIKES! I've never planned such a large party!

The summer is almost over and we will be starting school again soon. I've been online ordering books, pre-reading the books I already have, making schedules, etc., etc.,. Dh will be home to help this year and I'm looking forward to it. He has a photographic memory (if there is such a thing) and can tell you who the president was on a given year, what party they stood for, the first lady's name and numerous other interesting (or useless, depends on how you look at it*grin*) facts regarding the historical time period in which they served! He has a captive audience with the kids (he loves history so much and it's hard to find others who are quite as passionate *smile*).

I promise to try to be a better blogger from now on!

Real Christians Don't Gay Bash

by the Rev. Jim Rigby

Progressive Christians tend to be nonjudgmental and to feel that challenging the intolerance of others is itself intolerant. For that reason we often sit by silently when Fundamentalist Christians criticize homosexual persons. We tend to think of this as being open-minded.
Not that long ago, it was considered consistent to be a Christian, and yet, hold slaves. The day came when slavery was understood as an affront to the gospel itself. I want to suggest that the day has come when Christians must declare that gay bashing is an attack on the gospel and that real Christians do not participate in any form of discrimination.
Several years ago, I was asked to do the funeral of a gay man who had been beaten to death in a hate crime. At that time, I had never thought deeply about the danger many gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people face in this culture. That week as I worked on the service, I kept hearing a local “Christian” radio station blaming gay and lesbian people for everything wrong in America. By the end of the week I understood the link between religious hate speech and the funeral I was performing.
I know that critics of homosexuality do not consider themselves to be hateful. They would say they “love the sinner but hate the sin.” If the shoe were on the other foot, however, and someone were attacking their families, trying to take their children away, and constantly working to pass legislation to deprive them of basic civil rights, at some point they would understand that “homophobia” is too mild a word for such harassment. “Hatred” is the only proper term.
I was raised in Dallas, Texas and had classmates who were in the Klan. I remember that they did not consider themselves to be attacking other people. They perceived themselves to be defenders of Christian America. Their “religion” consisted of an unrelenting attack on people who were black, Jewish, or homosexual. If anyone challenged these views, these Klan members considered themselves under attack and believed that their right to free exercise of religion was being threatened. In other words, they felt that harassing other people was a protected expression of their own religious faith.
In the Gospel, biblical literalists and judgmental people were the negative example in many of the stories. The point of those stories was to teach us the hypocrisy of judgmental religion. When a woman was caught in adultery, the Biblical literalists lined up to protect family values. They pointed out that the Bible literally says that adulterers are to be stoned. If Jesus took the Bible seriously, they claimed, he would have to participate in the mandated biblical punishment of an adulteress.
Instead of following scripture, Jesus tells the woman to get her life together and tells everyone else to drop their stones of judgment. The only way to take this story seriously is to conclude that real Christians don’t use the bible to condemn other people.
It violates the teaching of Christ to say that God will get angry if America does not confront homosexuality as a sin. Jesus did not mention homosexuality and it is a lie to say he did. Furthermore, Jesus said “judge not or you will be judged.” These false prophets are saying “judge or else you will be judged.”
Jesus was kind and understanding, but he was not silent about those who abused the vulnerable. He called them “wolves in sheep’s clothing.” Christians must follow the example of Jesus and confront those vicious predators who use the Christian religion as a camouflage for bullying. We must be as understanding and kind as we can be, but to be tolerant of the oppression of others is not true tolerance.
I believe the time has come to say that genuine followers of Jesus Christ do not participate in discrimination against gay and lesbian persons. Is it intolerant to challenge intolerance? Are we doing the same thing as those we are challenging?
Gay-bashing is not just an opinion, it is an assault. Just as the Klan did, religious fundamentalists have a right to believe that homosexuality is a sin. They even have a right to preach a message of hate. But when they harass people in public, it is time for Christians to rise to challenge their intolerance. We have an obligation to protect our neighbors from harassment and slander, especially when it is done in our name.
It is time to say that gay-bashing is not only wrong, it is unchristian. If Christianity is grace, then judgment is the ultimate apostasy. If Christianity is love, then cruelty is the ultimate heresy.
The Rev. Jim Rigby is pastor of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Austin, TX, and a longtime activist in movements concerned with gender, racial, and economic justice. This summer he is finishing a book on principles for a New Reformation. Email to: jrigby0000@aol.com.

The Sheep, the Pig, the Cat and the Dogs......

The pig and the sheep, Mr. Ziffel and Cardigan, are now happily coexisting in the same pen. Cardigan will not let the pig get more than a few inches away from him. I believe he thinks the pig is his mother.

The two unlikely companions sleep, eat and play together. Sheep are not known to eat slop but Mr. Ziffel has taught Cardigan that it's better than crimped oats any day. It's fun to bring the leftovers to them every morning and watch as all of our animals, kitten included, share a meal from the same bucket. Mr. Ziffel is not impressed when the other animals join in on his feast and tries to body slam them out of the way but they are persistent creatures, stealthily sneaking a piece of bread or apple core when Mr. Z isn't looking. To get Cardigan away from his feed trough, he grabs a mouthful of food and runs to another part of the corral, knowing that Cardigan will follow him. You can imagine him saying, "come look what's over here, you dumb sheep". Once Cardigan is sufficiently out of the way, Mr. Z races back to his trough to eat a few bites in peace.

Yesterday, as is the case more often than not, we were going on a hike. I talked dh into letting Cardigan and Mr. Ziffel go with us so we opened the gate to the corral and the animals eagerly walked out and started following us down the path toward the woods.

I've always heard that pigs are as smart as dogs and I believe it. Mr. Ziffel just took off walking along the path right along with the rest of us. Now, we love Cardigan but we're thinking his IQ may be a little weaker, or maybe it's just that he can't see very well. When he loses sight of Mr. Ziffel he just stands there and bleats continually until Mr. Z gets sick of hearing it. The pig will go toward the sheep until it is spotted and Cardigan happily runs toward Mr. Ziffel as if it has just been reunited with its one surviving relative.

Cardigan could not see Mr. Ziffel who had rushed down to the pond and was ecstatically coating himself with a layer of mud. The sheep was stopped midway down the hill "baaaaaaing" incessantly. Mr. Ziffel, newly energized, ran squealing back up the hill until he could be visualized by Cardigan and led him back down to where we all stood laughing at their antics.

So, we were a crazy sight, walking along our hiking trails in this order: Dh, Mr. Ziffel (pig), Cardigan (sheep), ds-5, Chewy (dog), dd-12, Beau (dog), ds-21, Shadow (cat) and me bringing up the rear. I was cracking up as I watched the animals just follow right along the paths as if they did this every day. They never once tried to stop and eat or wander off into the woods; they just hiked along with the rest of us.

As we were finishing our hike, I stopped to pick some blackberries. No one noticed that I was no longer with the group until Cardigan turned around, walked back down the path toward me and stood there in the path, looked at me and bleated, "baaaaa, baaaaa", as if to say, "come on, wouldya?". He kept on bleating until I finally said "OK, I'm coming," and started walking toward him. He immediately resumed his place in the convoy of hikers and walked joyfully back up to the house, content that everyone was accounted for.

Born On The 4th of July

My niece, JL, was born on July 4th three years ago. Her birthday was celebrated at my brother's house. We arrived at JL's 3rd birthday party on the evening of the 4th, intending to watch the community fireworks display after the ritual opening of presents. JL is a beautiful child with dark brown eyes, a gorgeous olive complexion and dark brown hair, just like her Mom and Dad. When I walked in the house and said "Hi, Angel!", she replied in her usual third-person fashion, reiterating the reason for our being there saying, "JL is 3!".

After the requisite sugar bolus we received in the form of cake and ice cream, it was time to open presents. The children in our family are blessed to have many aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents to shower affection and gifts upon them. JL received a princess dress for her birthday last year and spends a lot of time in it, I hear. Her mother has washed it until it is shredded and thread-bare and the entire family proved sympathetic to the cause; JL received no less than 3 new princess dresses for her birthday!

It wasn't long before JL was newly attired in a princess dress, this one complete with a lighted skirt! She was mesmerized by the blinking lights (don't know how that one will hold up in the wash!). Littlewho was so impressed by her appearance, he sweetly and tenderly walked up to her and said "JL, you look like Cinderella!". There was an utterance of "aaaawwwwwws" heard throughout the room from ladies and men alike.

The fireworks started late, around 10pm but it was worth the wait. We had front row seats sitting in the driveway of my brother's home. It was a spectacular display of artistic brilliance, lasting about 25 minutes during which time there were repeated exclamations of "wow!", "oh my gosh!", "how wonderful!", "oooooooo!", and "Happy birthday, JL!".

Can you imagine what must go through a little 3 year old's mind when there is so much gaiety and merriment surrounding her birthday? JL has no idea that we are also celebrating our freedom but--who cares?--we should all be so fortunate to have such a birthday celebration!

How Many Indians Can You Fit Into a Tipi?

We are studying Native Americans. Most homeschoolers I know, if they were studying Indians, might read some books about different tribes, make some popcorn or jerky and possibly even build a replica of an adobe hut. My family has built a tipi.

This tipi is not from a kit, nor is it your run-of-the-mill, 6 foot tall standard tipi. Dh and ds have spent days chopping down saplings to build it. They said they wanted it to be authentic, just like the Indians would have made. I've joined them in the woods as they've painstakingly selected the straightest trees to build the frame, cutting down beautiful oaks and birchtrees. I watched as they erected the frame, pole by pole in a shape that somewhat resembles a circle but more closely mimics an egg. And I tried not to comment when they starting tying the poles together at the top, ran out of rope and ended up using duct tape.

Yesterday, the structure was finished. It is big enough to hold a few elephants and one very tall giraffe. I'm not kidding! It's enormous and sitting right in the middle of our driveway, perfectly visible from the road. I've observed onlookers practically going into the ditch as they look up to the top of our hill at this monstrosity. In it's primitive state, with no cover over it, the tipi frame looked like some sort of pagan, sacrificial monument, complete with duct taped supports.

Dh said he was going to go to the Army surplus store and get an old tent to use to cover the tipi. I warned him that something that big was not going to be cheap so he called first. The size tent he needed was going to cost $1600! He decided to go to the local tool store, where he found a 30' x 30' gray tarp for minimal cost. He and ds worked for hours trying to arrange the square tarp over the circular (and I use that term very loosely) structure. Finally, they had it situated the way they wanted it and it fits surprisingly well, except for a few "air vents" where the tarp wouldn't reach the ground. They have staked it in place and placed rocks where necessary to keep the tarp secure. Now when people drive by they undoubtedly think we've erected a missle silo.

The kids spent the afternoon making mocassins from kits we ordered and we're planning on having a pow-wow, searching for arrowheads, and going to visit the buffalo farm near us. This truly is homeschooling at its best but I'm a little nervous about our next subject, the moon!

And on this farm we had a pig......

It's funny how every time I go to work on the weekend, I get a timely phone call from dh telling me what he has done, seemingly to prepare me for what I'm going to find when I get home. I never know what sort of profound things dh has built, destroyed, or acquired. This past weekend was no different.

There is an "Animal Swap Meet" in Fordland on the last Sunday of every month. The kids very cleverly sweet-talked dh into going; they know he's a sucker for a cute animal. We have fondly referred to him for years as "Dr. Doolittle" because he just seems to have a way with animals and they love him in return.

On Sunday they set out for the swap meet with a cage in the back of the pickup. When they arrived, dh and the kids sorted through the vast array of ducks, goats, chickens, puppies, etc. Unbeknownst to me, the family had plans for a pig. It was 4 against 1 and I was not there to be the voice of reason. We had no place to keep a pig, for starters.

After weaving their way through the myriad of creatures, they finally found the pig man at the back of the swapmeet. They immediately saw a cute little red-skinned pig with a white face that they instantly bonded with so they said "We'll take that one.". The man said "He's a good 'un, he'll make some good eatin" to which dh replied, "Oh, we just want him for a pet". The pig man looked at dh and the kids in disbelief and picked the little porker up by one leg, handing him to ds21. He hugged the squealing pig to his body and climbed into the back of the truck. The pig proceeded to relieve himself, bowels and bladder, repeatedly all over ds.

I arrived home to find a primitive pig sty fashioned out of various types of wood and metal in our barn. You have to climb over a stack of shingles, onto an old dresser and over a gate to climb into the pen but, no matter, the pig seems happy, especially when we "slop" him. I don't know if all pigs are herbivores but this one is, although he has turned his nose up at broccoli and cauliflower.

Littlewho was in the pig pen today, alone, without permission. We were inside the house and he came sauntering in with a guilty look on his face. He said he and Chewy, our mutt dog, had been petting the pig. Of course we were upset that he had been in the pen and before we could explain (again) all of the reasons it was dangerous to play with a pig by himself, littlewho said the pig accidentally bit his arm. He impressed us with a compelling argument for the sake of the pig--that the pig was really trying to bite the dog and his arm just happened to be in the way. Besides, he said, "It didn't hurt". His arm had a snout-sized abrasion with a bruise in the center; thankfully, it didn't break the skin.

I'm thinking it may be necessary to throw a little pork into the slop every now and then to put the biting swine in it's place-the pig doesn't necessarily need to know we are vegetarians!

Blueberries Are Ready

We went hiking this morning on some of the trails dh and ds have been cutting with the scythes. It has become sort of a morning ritual-dh and I wake up, have a cup of coffee or tea on the deck while watching the sunrise and then go for a peaceful, cool, morning walk.

A couple of weeks ago we starting noticing all of the fruit that is growing on the hillsides. This is our first summer here so it was a wonderful surprise when we discovered the peach tree, gooseberries, black raspberries, wild blueberries and, of course, the plethora of blackberries. We even found a pawpaw down by the creek bed, which I've not seen since I was a child. They are very elusive because foxes, raccons and opossums find them extremely desirable, as well.

Today we spent a loooong time gathering and eating blueberries and raspberries. There were only a few blackberries and by the time we got to them littlewho had joined us in the meadow so we had to fight each other for those that were ready! When they really start to ripen--watch out--there must be hundreds of thousands of them out there!

Although we have our own wild blueberries, unlike cultivated blueberries they are so tiny that it would take forever to pick enough to make one smoothie. We just enjoy them as we find them and, in the meantime, we will pick blueberries at the patch a few miles from our house. They are $8/gallon and ready to be picked!

Barbershop

Dh got a haircut the other day. Since he has been off work and couldn't go to his usual stylist in the city, he decided to go to the barbershop in Seymour.

Remember Floyd's Barbershop on Andy Griffith? When you go to the Barber shop on the square in Seymour, it feels like you've stepped back in time about 50 years. This place is complete with a red, white and blue barber pole and your very own Floyd, Barney, Gomer and Otis! Interestingly, dh has been called "Opie" for years by his coworkers--must have something to do with the strawberry blonde hair, freckles and ageless face.

For some reason, dh felt it necessary to drag me along to the barber shop. There were 3 people inside when we arrived so "Floyd" said it wouldn't be too long. Well, as you can imagine, country people have a different perspective as to what "long" means.

The man who was getting a haircut when we arrived, we'll call him "Barney", was a hoot. He was thin and balding and I could almost picture him being allowed to carry a gun on the condition that he have 1 bullet--in his pocket! There was nothing this man didn't know or hadn't done, up to and including killing grizzly bears. He talked nonstop and I'm not kidding. It takes good 'ol Floyd about 45 minutes to do a haircut, we discovered, so we were able to hear all about Barney's escapades. He tried to convince us that you could catch pond carp, can it in jars and it "tastes just like salmon!" We said, "yum, we'll have to try that!". He said "Fish is fish". YUK! The place filled up while we were waiting and no one was as happy to see him go as I was. We practically had to shove him out the door to get him to leave.

Dh can keep up with just about anyone when it comes to talking and I have to admit I was a little surprised that he didn't get impatient with the laid back atmosphere. The truth is, we were having too much fun analyzing the characters from Mayberry and listening to the engaging conversation.

The next guy to get a haircut was a corpulent, pie-faced man, we'll call him "Otis". His clothes were dirty and ragged and he appeared as if he had just crawled out of bed (presumably, he let himself in and out of his jail cell, still a little ebrious from the night on the town). He was a sweet guy with a not-so-sweet odor. Ewwww! Floyd must have noticed it too, because Otis' haircut didn't take so long.

The next guy had a hat on that said "WWII Veteran". He had been sitting in a chair, taking part in the conversation and since he was there before us, we assumed he was next. When Floyd looked at him he said "Aw golly gee whiz, I'm just sittin' here for a bit. I don't need my hair cut today". Yep, you guessed it, Gomer!

FINALLY, it was Opie's turn. We were at the barber shop for 2 hours but I have to say, if you need to know what's going on in Mayberry, uh, I mean Seymour, just go sit a while at "Floyd's".

How To Treat a Rattlesnake Bite

I saw a little boy in the hospital this weekend--19 months old--who was bitten by a rattlesnake. In 19 years of nursing, I've never taken care of a patient with a snakebite so I was fascinated by this particular case. The little guy touched my heart; he's such a cutie with his blonde hair and brown eyes and he was so tolerant of everything we were doing to him!

This nice family lives in the country and apparently, the child was playing on the patio when he was bitten between his thumb and forefinger. The mother was standing outside when it happened and they immediately took him to the hospital where he was given antivenin.

He is doing surprisingly well. The venom can cause problems with platelet levels (which help the blood to clot) so he was having frequent labwork and it was looking better every day. Unfortunately, his arm is very swollen and purple from the fingertips to his shoulder and he was having surgery today to open up the skin (fasciotomy) so the swelling wouldn't cause further tissue damage.

Rattlesnakes deliver a hemotoxin (affecting the blood) and a neurotoxin (affecting the central nervous system). No treatment in the field is recommended. It is no longer advised to ice the limb, apply a tourniquet, or suck out the venom (unless you are a skilled outdoorsman and have a "Sawyer" Extractor designed specially for this purpose). The most important step is to get to a hospital; the antivenin must be given within a 4-6 hour window. If at all possible, kill the snake and bring it along for identification and call the hospital ahead of time so the antivenin is available.

The Whos Have a Little Lamb, Little Lamb...

Dd12 has been asking for a lamb for quite some time, ever since she volunteered to take care of the flock of sheep that belong to the Mennonite neighbors down the road. While they were on vacation, they let dd feed and water the sheep, promising her she could have one when the lambs were ready to be weaned.

Mrs. Mennonite called the other day, letting dh know that the lamb was ready. Much to our chagrin, they wanted $1 a pound for it, which translated to $50 and dh agreed. He and ds21 took the truck to the Mennonite's house. They weren't gone long and arrived home with ds in the bed of the pickup, gently holding on to a cute, docile, male lamb. The kids decided to call it "Cardigan". We had visions of strolling around with the lamb following us, playing with the kids and just generally enjoying its tame nature.

Dh had been getting our corral ready for the lamb, cleaning it out and making sure the fence was intact so Cardigan wouldn't be able to get out. Ds carried the sweet little lamb into the corral and within seconds ds's pit bull (raised lovingly indoors) had clambered under the gate, cornered the lamb, and was tearing at the wool on its neck. Dh had a sudden rush of adrenaline and despite his arthritic joints, grabbed the pit bull by the neck and the tail and flinged it over the 6 foot tall fence as if it were a mere puppy! The dog lay in the tall grass, knowing it had really messed up this time (we overlooked the killing of 3 kittens). I will not elaborate but (ahem) we have 2 dogs again instead of 3 and I am resting much better at night.

When the excitement was over, we looked around and guess what? No Cardigan. It had jumped between the boards in the corral and escaped to the end of the lane and was standing in the yard, bleating in vain for its mother. We chased that lamb around the yard for hours, literally. It can jump like a gazelle. I have never laughed so hard in my life, watching 2 novices trying to corner and grab onto the poor little helpless creature.

They tried everything, chasing it as it weaved around the obstacles in our yard, jumping through their arms and out of reach; you wouldn't believe how lithe and muscular a little lamb can be! I almost peed my pants when they ever so stealthily crept up behind it with a lasso (dd's jump rope), simultaneously lunged for it and Cardigan, with the agility of a cat, leaped straight up onto the propane tank leaving dh and ds lying in a bewildered heap on the ground.

Cardigan kept going toward our basement window. At first we thought it was going to jump through the window, thinking it was an escape route. After several return visits, we realized the lamb could see its reflection and thought it was another sheep looking back at him! Since arriving at our home it had been attacked by a vicious animal and endured being chased for hours so it seemed to find comfort in its new friend. Dh and ds decided to use the window to their advantage.

First, the lamb rustlers tried sitting by the basement window, hoping Cardigan wouldn't notice them (tee hee). It did come quite close several times but when they would try to grab it, it just turned and ran. They were getting very frustrated, hot, and hungry and I was rolling around with stomach pains from laughing so hard.

At around 5 pm--yes, they had been at it ALL day--they came up with an ingenious plan. Ds decided to hide in the basement bathroom with the window open. When Cardigan approached the window to look at the other lamb, ds thrust his arm out the window and grabbed a leg and held on like a vice. Dh was standing by and pounced on the rest of Cardigan and lo and behold, victory! It was a long, hard day but such entertainment!

Cardigan is now peacefully enjoying his new home but--can you believe it?--he won't let us come near him.

Pesto, yum!

We are finally starting to reap the harvest from our garden. I picked a bunch of Basil the other day--it is my all-time favorite herb--you just pick off what you need and it keeps producing, very easy!

Besides throwing Basil into everything I saute', I made Pesto for the first time. It is so incredibly good. Here's the recipe:

1 large bunch of fresh basil leaves, washed and spun dry
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup pine nuts (I didn't have any so just left them out)
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, freshly grated (I used Asiago, it's what I had on hand)

Combine all of the ingredients in a food processor or blender and pulse to a paste.
Serve over your favorite pasta, I used organic tomato-basil linguine. It was fabulous, even the kids loved it. This is very rich so a couple of tablespoons per serving will suffice. Try it, if you've never had Pesto, you will be surprised!

Sandals and Scythes Don't Mix

Today, I nearly cut my toe off. Well, not really OFF but it's a deep cut. Dh and I were sitting on the deck early this morning, drinking hot tea and coffee. I was enjoying the peacefulness and the unusually cool morning when he said "do ya want to go scythe?". I couldn't wait, I mean, who could resist an offer like that?

Dh has been off work due to an exacerbation of his arthritis so we've been able to spend the days together for a change. He is very stiff and has lots of pain in the mornings and it takes him several hours to loosen up. It helps him to be active and one of his [seemingly] favorite things to do is chop down the weeds on our land. Dh is as concerned about the environment as I am and even though we have a gasoline powered lawn mower and a big weed eater on wheels, he insists on doing as much of the chopping as he can with a scythe.

If you've never experienced the benefits of using a scythe, according to dh--besides the fact that we're not using fossil fuels and polluting the air--it's a great workout and it's therapeutic. I've been married to this man for 22 years and still can't figure him out but I do know he's got more energy in his pinky finger than I could muster up in a week. There are occasions when he simply has to have an outlet. We don't go out to eat or to a movie for fun like normal people, we do things like lift weights, paint the house or go scything.

Now, most people I know don't even own a scythe. We have 3. This morning at 7am, we were out on the hillside, scythes in hand, swinging away at the ubiquitous weeds. Most of our land we are allowing to naturalize but dh has blazed hiking trails and keeps the area around the tree swing, littlewho's fort and the zipline cleared away to keep the crawlies off of the kids.

Although I was very eager to spend quality time with my hubby, I was not really dressed to go scything; I was still in my pajamas and I was wearing a pair of sandals (Mr. Safety is slacking). After about 10 minutes, I was really getting into it and was aggressively swinging my tool, actually enjoying the work. Unfortunately, during one misdirected return stroke, the scythe hit a rock, bounced off and sliced into my 2nd toe. I threw the scythe down and started hopping around in agony, afraid to look down for fear my toe was no longer attached.

After a few minutes, dh had me sit down long enough to look at the damage. The toe was still there but had a deep cut and blood was dripping from my sandal into a pool on the ground. It could have easily used several stitches but ya know, it's just a toe.

Dh was so disappointed that he now had to scythe on his own, he woke ds21 up (who just recently moved back home) and took him out to the meadow to put him to work. Reluctant to lose another scything partner, he insisted that ds put his tennis shoes on. I have a feeling ds will have a job and his own apartment very soon...............

Heat Stroke

I have had an epiphany; It's HOT! And, I might add, it's HUMID! I started running again last November so up until the last few weeks, my runs have been in cooler weather (the colder the better, IMO). My trek is 4.5 miles and the last 1/2 mile is uphill on a steep grade. It's killer and I had forgotten that I wasn't acclimated to running in the heat yet.

A week or so ago the forecast was for the temperature to climb to 92 degrees. I, in my ultimate wisdom, decided to go on a run at noon. Unfortunately, I have never been one to sweat very efficiently. I've always been envious of dh who sweats through 3 or 4 t-shirts a day when it's hot. I love to sweat--ahhh! It feels so good to get rid of toxins--but if I'm not careful, I just turn red and pass out.

So, on this particular day when it was hotter than Hades, I took off running. At the 3 mile mark, down in the valley where there was no air movement, I started feeling a little lightheaded. I kept pushing myself, thinking that it would pass and I'd be in the shaded area within a few minutes. At the 4 mile mark, right before the notorious hill, I was becoming extremely weak so I conceded and stopped at the creek to cool off. I poured water over my head and splashed my face with the cool, running water. I was delirious and it wasn't until later that I thought of the cattle upstream that were also cooling off in the water and relieving themselves without concern about the water quality, yikes!

I walked the rest of the way home that day, cutting through our meadow to get home faster. The kids were waiting for me outside as I trudged up the hill, red-faced and effete, croaking, "Water, quick, I need water!". I have since started getting up earlier and earlier each morning to escape the heat and have found that there is quite a lot of activity in the mornings around here.

We live on a 4 mile loop that consists of 3 or 4 farms. Some of the people are Mennonites and I can't tell you how strangely uncomfortable I feel when I'm running by in my shorts and sports bra. They're always very kind and maybe they aren't as disapproving as I assume but regardless, I decided long ago that my health was more important than their approval so I carry on. Our neighbors are all very friendly and it's not uncommon to encounter some of them on my runs. If only they knew how difficult it was to stop in the middle of a run to have a conversation! Once, one of my neighbors actually got in her car and drove the loop to find me to get my "professional" opinion when her daughter had fallen and hurt her arm!

Yesterday, I was on the final leg of the uphill stretch when I met a man walking along the road picking up cans. I tried to avoid his gaze so I wouldn't have to stop so I just smiled and said "Hi", but alas, he stopped to talk and I couldn't just ignore him! He said, "You sell them thar beagles?" (Our neighbor's 2 beagles have adopted us and will not leave, despite a few BB's to the posterior). I explained that those beagles weren't ours, they belonged to Goat Woman, they just liked our house better because, much to my dismay, sisterwho feeds them every day. He said he was interested in buying some beagles. I explained how much we liked the beagles but they kept us up at night barking and then said "So, on second thought, yes, they are for sale!". He laughed and I took the opportunity to finish my run.

Lofty Ambition

Dh and the kids met a man the other day who was a professor at SMS (oops, MSU, sorry). They were having a lengthy discussion and eventually the subject of homeschooling was brought up. Why is it that people feel they must test our children when they are homeschooled? It's not uncommon for people to ask my children where they go to school and when they say "I'm homeschooled", inevitably the next question is "What's 9X6?", or "Who was the 3rd president?". Sheesh! I don't recall my older children who went to PS ever fielding such questions. I can only hope that it's because more is expected of homeschoolers than their public schooled counterparts. It's no secret that many of the last geography and/or spelling bee winners have been homeschoolers. I admit I would love to have a child with such a love of learning that they win a scholarship to an Ivy League College and obtain a PhD and find a way to cure cancer or end world hunger and win a Nobel prize and..........."EARTH TO CINDI".................Oh well, I can dream, can't I?

The professor eventually got around to asking sisterwho what it is she wants to do when she grows up. Sisterwho said, "I want to cut hair". Dh didn't miss a beat and nobly replied, "There ya go, we must be doing something right!".

Hey, where would the world be without Hairdressers?

Da Vinci Might Have Been a Nut

I recently finished reading "The Da Vinci Code". I have to say, it's a great read and I would highly recommend it to those who have the discernment to take it at face value for what it is, a fictional novel.

The author, Dan Brown is a smart man. It is sadly comical that this book has stirred up more controversy than I imagine Darwin's "The Origin of Species" must have some 150 years ago. Unfortunately, in today's world we have the means to spread information, accurate or not, like wildfire. Dan Brown is now a wealthier man because he wrote a novel about something that gets people's attention. The movie, critics say, stinks, and if it weren't for all of the hoopla it probably would have been a flop! The author of the book and the writers/directors/producers of the movie knew exactly what they were doing and we've played right into their hands.

I'm not writing this to convince anyone of anything--we must all evaluate our own hearts--but if you are questioning what you've always known I would encourage you, no matter what your beliefs, to pray for clarity. Educate yourself on what the book says and you will probably be surprised to find as much information that contradicts "The Da Vinci Code" as you will information that supports its claims.

After I finished the book, I had questions about what the author says are "Facts". On page 1 he says that "All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals in this novel are accurate". Are they really? By whose standards?

One example: Regarding "The Last Supper" painting by Da Vinci; Brown proposes that the person seated to Jesus' right is not The Apostle John but actually Mary Magdalene. He points out the feminine characteristics and the color of the dress which is exactly opposite to the color of Jesus' garments, subliminally suggesting that Jesus and Mary M were lovers. First of all, I have to ask, was Da Vinci there? No, of course he wasn't. He painted HIS own idea of what the last supper might have been like and the symbolism he uses is of his own fabrication. Even if he did suspect that Jesus had a lover or a wife, was he right? If you look at the painting, you will see that many of the disciples look somewhat feminine and knowing what we know about Da Vinci, well, umm, I'll let you make your own assumptions. Historians KNOW that Da Vinci was a flamboyant homosexual, an eccentric, and is known for painting artwork depicting Christian themes, not as an expression of what he believed but to fund his lavish lifestyle! And here we are, putting Christian beliefs and Biblical truths on the line because of him?! Come on!

I saw a phrase on a church sign the other day that made me smile, "No codes, just truth". Before you question your faith or anyone else's, get the REAL facts. Be prepared to defend the truths you hold dear and don't ever, EVER, let the words that ONE small man has written convince you of anything without gaining more insight on the subject, regardless of the topic. As dh always says, "Be skeptical!".

It's pretty simple. I can't say what Dan Brown's motives are but most people write novels to make money, hmmmm.......

Wasn't Jesus a Liberal?

Published on Tuesday, October 19, 2004 by CommonDreams.org

by Gary Vance

Liberalism has been under assault for years now. The battering of this grand political philosophy has altered the contemporary definition of liberal to the point that Conservatives use it as a profane word. They use it to paint a political opponent as anti-God and anti-American. It has gotten to the point that moderate and liberal Christians are afraid to be open about their political leanings. Sadly, it even affects their conscience and choices as they enter the voting booth. This is particularly troubling to me as a Christian evangelical minister who loves America.

Liberalism as defined by Webster’s Third New International Dictionary: “a political philosophy based on belief in progress, the essential goodness of man, and the autonomy of the individual and standing for tolerance and freedom for the individual from arbitrary authority in all spheres of life…”

I am not sure why anyone would feel threatened by Liberalism as defined by the dictionary. They are apparently unaware or simply refuse to acknowledge the long history of liberals who have labored for the betterment of society and the furthering of God’s Kingdom.

The labor movement of the early twentieth century was aided significantly when major Christian denominations got behind it. No average American would have a fair wage today if it weren’t for liberal Christians and labor activists. Liberal Christians and civil rights activists fought and still fight against conservative America for racial equality. Child labor laws were enacted because liberals fought for them. Medicare and Social Security exist today because of Liberalism. “Bleeding heart liberals” have long advocated for the homeless, the hungry, the less fortunate, and the disenfranchised. The women of America owe liberals a big thank you for their almost equal rights. “Tree hugging liberals” fight for clean air and water standards instead of favoring industrial polluters and short term profiteering that destroy God’s green earth.

Liberals believe in affordable health care for all U.S. citizens. They also believe in higher taxes for the rich and lower taxes for the middle class and the poor. Liberals love their spouses and children. Liberals faithfully attend their churches to worship God. Liberals love America and hate terrorism and have proved it by fighting in every war for this country. Liberals come in all shapes, sizes, and color. They are found in the ranks of Protestants, Catholics, Jews, agnostics, and atheists.

Conservative Republican policies generally favor the wealthy and ignore the needs of the poor. Their policies are so often greed-driven, with no concern for the environmental or societal consequences for their exploitive actions. Jesus plainly taught that the love of money is the root of all evil. So, Christians can go after the various “fruit” of sin in our society, but they won’t see the real change for the better until the axe is laid to the root. Christians should oppose greed-driven policies as a primary point of political concern.

I am sick of reading letters to the editor and editorials that paint Democrats and liberals as anti-God and anti-American and that portray conservative Republicans as the only true Christian patriots. We know that many Democrats are pro-choice and many support gay issues and this troubles most evangelicals. Democrats also support causes that should be of Christian concern that go untouched by Republicans. I have listed some in the above paragraphs. True prophetic vision sees that there is great need for repentance on the left and the right. The effects of powerful lobbyists, special interest groups, greed and corruption abound on both sides of the aisles of Congress. God sees it all and so should Christians. Christian voters need to see that God’s heart breaks over more than just a few political and moral issues. It is time to take off our blinders and mourn for the sorry state of affairs that is American politics.

Jesus was the ultimate liberal progressive revolutionary of all history. The conservative religious and social structure that He defied hated and crucified Him. They examined His life and did not like what they saw. He aligned Himself with the poor and the oppressed. He challenged the religious orthodoxy of His day. He advocated pacifism and loving our enemies. He liberated women and minorities from oppression. He healed on the Sabbath and forgave adulterers and prostitutes. He associated with drunks and other social outcasts. He rebuked the religious right of His day because they embraced the letter of the law instead of the Spirit. He loved sinners and called them to Himself. Jesus was the original Liberal. He was a progressive, and He was judged and hated for it. It was the self-righteous religionists that He rebuked and He called them hypocrites.

The primary issues of Christian Liberalism were birthed when Jesus spoke the profoundly prophetic words found in Matthew 25: 31-46. These scriptures reveal God’s heart for the poor, the sick and other neglected people through out history. Christians should read this text and judge for themselves which of the two groups mentioned there more accurately reflect the political parties of today. His Liberalism lives on today and the issues have not changed much.

I am glad that conservative Republican candidates advocate for the family and a few Christian issues, but we must quit pretending that they are the only ones that Christians should consider voting for. People should not call themselves pro-life if they are only anti-abortion and yet feel no twinge of conscience over the unfair application of capital punishment or wars fought for dubious motives. A true pro-life position cares just as passionately for the born as the un-born and views war as a last resort when all other options are exhausted.

Christians should look for candidates that will work for issues that are of importance to Christ and that can be tackled legislatively. Sadly, most of those causes have historically been opposed, ignored, and minimized by conservative Republican policy makers. They seem to dangle the moral issues carrot around election time. Then, even with a Republican controlled White House and Congress, prove themselves powerless to do anything about those issues when they convene to legislate. Issues such as eliminating poverty and homelessness in America, true equal rights for all citizens, environmental protection, a fair minimum wage, affordable health care, and lowering our infant mortality rate all go unattended. That’s just to name a few.

I have some questions for the Christian Right. Why have you not held our current elected majority officials accountable for their failure to address the full spectrum of Christian issues? Why would you vote for them again?

It is time for Christians of conscience to stand up to religious and political hypocrisy. Christians should proudly proclaim progressive values today and should advocate for the Christian Liberalism that is our heritage and our legacy.

Camping on the Buffalo River

We just got back from a camping trip in Arkansas. What peaceful, quiet, unrivaled fun! Dh doesn't like to camp, he's a homebody and his arthritis makes him so stiff that he couldn't possibly enjoy sleeping under the stars. I have bugged him to take us camping for quite some time without success so when my friend (I'll call her "K") and her daughter, "Z" (4 years old) asked us to join them on a trip, we answered with a resounding "Yes"!.

K, who had Z, her only child, when she was 43 has camped and hiked around the globe. I, on the other hand, haven't been camping since I was a child so I was a little naive. We debated on whether to go to the Lake or to the river and when K asked sisterwho which she would rather do, sis answered "I'm scared of lakes, let's go to the river". So the river it was.

Packing for the camping trip was a major challenge. Since we've never been camping as a family, we had no camping supplies. I had to buy a tent, sleeping bags, lanterns, a life jacket for littlewho, and a cooler. Bass Pro saw me coming a mile away! I started packing a week ahead and ended up with a carload of stuff that would have gotten us through a few weeks in Alaska. Heck, when you don't know what the weather is going to do, you have to be ready for anything. I had everything from swimsuits to hats and gloves.

Food preparation was also a huge undertaking. I was not about to undo the wonderful benefits of spending several days in the open air by eating a bunch of potato chips and bologna sandwiches so I toiled over the hot stove for days, baking bread, making tortillas, chopping vegetables and cooking soups. K brought chicken salad, hummus, boiled eggs, carrot and celery sticks, dates and nuts. We ate well!

I arrived at K's house Monday a little embarassed. I was afraid that she, being the experienced camper that she was, would surely laugh at my car packed to the ceiling with stuff. I almost lost it when I saw her car loaded with things which Z "needed" for camping such as a plastic doll highchair and a stuffed rabbit bigger that her!

We chose to go to a campground with a few amenities like toilets and showers. Neither of us had ever been there and apparently had envisioned a campground situated right on the river with the water in full view. We arrived at "Tyler Bend", a national park, around 2:30pm. K was following me and I pulled into the park and drove around searching for a campsite on the river. The river was nowhere in sight. K got out of her car and walked over to the edge of the woods hoping to see water rushing but it was not to be. She walked back toward me with her hands up in the air and said, "Where's the river?". We were a little disillusioned so decided to drive back up to the visitor center to be directed to the closest campsight with a river view.

I walked in the door of the visitor center and there was a lady behind the desk. I said, "We're here to camp but really wanted a site next to the river". I was sure I could hear her snickering to herself as she said, "We can't put the campsites right on the river, they would wash away with every rain". I almost expected her to end her comment with "you fool". She explained that there was a trail leading to the river so we could just walk to it whenever we pleased. We asked if there was any way to camp ON THE RIVER and she showed us the way to a campground that was primitive--we would be camping on a gravel bar and there were no facilities. We weighed our desire to be able to see water with our longing for flushing toilets and the toilets won out. We drove back to the campground and started setting up camp.

I am the type of person who reads the directions thoroughly before putting anything together; probably has something to do with having a dh who dives in first and asks questions later. It's excrutiating to think about the number of items we have put together only to find, hours later, a crucial, missing part that had been forgotten. After unloading the car, I started taking the tent out of it's bag and sat down to read. Sisterwho had brought a friend with her and they wanted their own tent so I forgot to mention I had purchased a small, 2 man tent for them. They chose a spot for their tent several feet away from the campsite, next to the woods. I had my back turned to them and K as I was reading the novel that was to show me how to erect a tent.

I finally had all of my tent parts layed out in order on the ground and was ready to start putting it together. I turned around to see if I could offer the girls any assistance and was shocked to find they had their tent up, complete with bedding inside and they were moving in! K also had her tent put up and offered to help me but I was determined to do it myself. Once I got started, it actually went up quite easily and turned out to be very comfortable with my queen sized air bed inside (it's what you call "roughing" it).

The kids were eager to start exploring so littlewho and the girls took off down a path that led into the woods. Minutes later littlewho came running back to the campsite yelling "my legs are itching and they won't stop!" He looked quite miserable but I couldn't see anything. I poured cold water on them and within seconds he had little whelps coming up all over his lower legs. I hollered at K to come look (she's a physician). At first I thought it must be poison ivy but K said it takes a couple of days for someone to react to that. She asked me if I had brought any Benadryl and fortunately I had (but neither of us--a doctor and a nurse--remembered bandaids, go figure) so I gave littlewho one to chew. It didn't take long for the whelps and the stinging to subside and we eventually determined it must have been stinging nettles that caused it. Whew! Poor little guy, he was really suffering and that was the first time I had ever encounted such a thing!

It wasn't long before the camp host (aka the "camp nazi") drove up in her golfcart to welcome us to the Buffalo National Park. She was listing the rules of the campground and warned us about "critters"; skunks in particular had been quite a nuisance and someone's dog had recently been sprayed. As she was telling us this, Z's eyes were becoming wider, unnoticed by us and before long she was crying and clinging to K, terrified of the skunks. Who knows what kind of vision she had in her little mind regarding skunks but she was in such a state that she wouldn't let K put her down for hours and there was nothing we could say to alleviate her fears. K eventually put her in the car where she felt safe. I told littlewho to go talk to her and explain what skunks were and pretty soon they both came bouncing back to the campsite without a care in the world. I wish I could have been a fly on the window and heard exactly what it was that a 5 year old could say to his little friend that made her forget about a vicious kid-eating skunk.

We started a campfire and made "Hobo pockets". I chopped potatoes, carrots, onions, zucchini and sweet potatoes ahead of time and let everyone choose what they wanted in their pocket. I put a tablespoon of butter on top, wrapped it in foil and threw the pockets in the coals of the fire. They cooked surprisingly fast and were incredibly tasty. Even the kids gobbled them up!

At night, it was cold but we all had fleece clothing. I'm not inclined to wearing polyester ANYTHING but I realize now that synthetic materials have their place. K taught me that fleece will hold the heat in, unlike cotton. That, along with our sleeping bags rated for 25 degrees kept us very warm at night. In fact, I was too warm, even when the temperature got down to 44. K even has fleece socks which are on my wish-list, something you don't want to camp without in the cooler weather.

K has a portable, one-burner propane stove that we used the next morning to make hot water for coffee and hot chocolate and pancakes. There's nothing quite like waking up and emerging from your tent on a cool morning to the birds singing, the sun gently warming your face, and pancakes.

We lugged our lawnchairs and coolers down to the river so the kids could play all day. They swam, caught crawdads and tadpoles, collected rocks and built sandcastles. The Buffalo river is particularly beautiful with it's high bluffs and clear water. The kids played on the sand bar most of the day and we are still crunching sand between our teeth, just like a day at the beach! In the evening we made another fire and had burritos for supper. K had brought avocados, black olives and refried beans and I had the homemade tortillas, cheese and salsa and we had another wonderful meal. Afterwards, we roasted marshmallows (our one indulgence) and made s'mores, YUM! Littlewho kept repeating "I am having so much fun!".

At night, we loaded all of the food into our cars because of the animals who wait for unsuspecting campers to go to sleep so they can raid your coolers and baskets. Unbeknownst to me, sisterwho and her friend had their own stash of junk food in their duffel bags. Their tent was only large enough for the 2 of them so that night they put their bags outside the tent. When we woke up in the morning, one of their bags had been dragged into the woods and a trail of candy wrappers, slimJims and pudding cups led us right to it. None of us heard anything during the night; I suspect it was raccoons who can be pretty creative little "bandits". I only hope it wasn't a bear!

I went on a run while we were there. I didn't really know where to go but decided to take off on one of the hiking trails. I assumed (wrongly) that the trails would be like the ones at our local nature center. YIKES! The trail was little more than a cow-path and I was running along the edge of embankments, dodging huge boulders and tree roots. The trail went down for quite some distance and then started going up and up until I came out on the top of one of the bluffs looking down at the river. It was beautiful but quite dizzying and I kept imagining myself falling so I quickly took off again on the trail that was marked "return trail". Well, turns out the return trail returns you to a spot about 2 miles up from the campground and I had already run at least 4 miles on rough terrain. When I finally arrived back at the camp, I had been gone an hour and my knees were a little worse for the wear. I was not at all winded, though; training on these hills where I live has really increased my stamina.

We spent our final day enjoying the river. We found another spot on the river with a shallow area that had a pretty strong current so the kids and K rode the rapids. I am a wimp when it comes to being cold AND wet and the water was really, really cold so I opted out. K had a fleece shirt on in the water and said it even keeps you warm when wet. I'm not convinced!

The kids and I are eager to go camping again, soon! Sitting around a campfire at night and looking up to see gazillions of stars, playing in the tent with the kids while waiting for the rain to pass, the peaceful sound of rushing water, food cooked and eaten out-of-doors and the uninterrupted quiet that comes from having no TV or radio is, in my opinion, the best vacation there is. At one point K said "I am in such leisure mode, I haven't thought about anything but being here". It was the most relaxed I've been in quite some time.

Things that I wouldn't go camping without are: a saw to cut firewood, fleece if it's cool weather, Teva sandals (they dry fast, stay on your feet, and are indestructable), a rope to fashion a clothesline, buckets, shovels and nets for the kids to catch and store their treasures, and a good cooler that keeps ice frozen for days.