I am so not surprised

but I am disgusted.
away on vacation?? Where in the hell was "Mr. President" yesterday? I can tell you where he was NOT. He was not at the site of the Berlin Wall with 27 Euro union leaders and Russian President Dmitry Medvedev. Oh, he sent Hilary.

Let's be honest though. Do we expect Obama to actually celebrate the fall of Communism?
As my thirteen year old said, "You'd think he'd at least try to hide his agenda."

I never enjoyed American History in high school. I won't lie. My history teacher had a slow southern drawl and used the words "asinine" daily.
I do have opinions though. One of them was that President Ronald Reagan was the greatest president this country had. He was definately the greatest president in my life time.
I invite you to remember the attention and dedication of this great American.


Now it's Tuesday, and the great b.o. of the USA is heading to Ft. Hood. He can't miss that photo op waiting for him at the memorial service. I'm sure that the families of the dead and the wounded are looking forward to shaking the hand of the man who gave a "shout out to Dr. Joe Medicine Crow". Let's be fair, he did, after three minutes of thanking people and honoring the Native medicine man, FINALLY get around to mentioning the deaths of his thirteen military personal employees of the United States government.

Let me paraphrase: "Hi there everybody. I want to thank everyone for coming out and setting up pretty tables. YO! Dr. Joe! Great job!
Oh, yeah, I just remembered... a few men were killed last week. Sorry 'bout that.
Hey! Time to get to camp David!"

moving day

My oldest moved out this afternoon. A friend at church has been concerned about her making the commute daily to the university, and expressed her concern in front of, apparently, the right person last Sunday. This woman, a widow, who happens to live four miles from the university, with a bus stop in front of her townhouse, offered her spare room to my daughter. For free.
This new house mate has already bought my daughter a cell phone.


That's M's new room on the third floor:

There are 38 steps to her room. This is the veiw from the landing of her bedroom:

The view from her window is the city sky line:

She has more than twice the space than she had at home, and for the first time in her life, will not have to share a bathroom. I hope she learns to pick her clothes up off the floor now that is living on someone else's floor.

She packed only enough to get her through the first week. Along with her toothbrush, pillow, and clothes, she took a framed photograph of her grandmother, my mother. "Grammy" was her best friend.

This daughter is an amazing person. She is smart, she is strong and she is beautiful. She dances like a Columbian and sings like an angel.

I sometimes joke that we grew up together, though it's truly not a joke. At times, she is more mature than I, and often picks up my slack. At other times, she is a weeping woman, engulfed by stress and responsibility, and depends on me to listen, and to make her laugh. I can usually make her laugh.

It is time for her to stretch a bit. Grow a bit, and even fall a little bit. I'm going to miss her. Even though she has already emailed me and asked if she can get a ride home from the park and ride on Friday.

sew vintage

Today: Dolls are getting new clothes!

lighten up

Went out for dinner last night. The restaurant was chosen for us via a HUGE coupon through the school district.

No complaints.

Came home to this:

Still, no complaints.

raw

A few Sundays ago, the gospel in Mass was that in which the Lord asks a man,
"What do you want?"
His reply, "I want to see".
So simply put. Such a simple request. Jesus healed the man of his blindness.

What do I want? I want to see.
What do I do now? What is the next step? I am living so one day at a time, that I can't even think about tomorrow. I can't even plan a menu for next week, because I am trying to get through today. (and no, I don't know yet what I am making for dinner tonight.)
At the moment, the children are working on their assignments, the little ones are playing quietly, and I'm soul searching. I am not praying, as I don't do much of that lately.

I think I asked the Lord many times in my youth, "I want to see". I was always looking into the future with positive sight and invincible faith. Because G-d was with me, I could "do all things".
I could be the rock that would help a man eight years my senior overcome alcohol and drug addiction and an illicit lifestyle. I could be the rock who would stand by him as he rebuilt his family relations, rehabilitated his body, and attempted to save his military career.
I would be the great encourager, the great planner and unfailing buoy for a man who was trying to begin a new life after years of substance abuse and memories of a controlling father.
I would be the great fixer, because I had so much love, not knowing that some things can never be fixed; they remain with a person always.

I would be all these things and I was only 20 years old.

I believed I could do these things because I was the smart one, the outgoing one, the faithful one, the 'good' one. I had faith and I had supportive parents.
Now, after 22 years of being 'the rock', I am none of those other things, and I am tired. And I am raw.

Lord, I want to see.

life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and a cell phone

Oh yeah, it's not enough to get food, rent, and healthcare. The government now thinks that having phone service is a RIGHT.

Some would argue that people who get free healthcare now, walk around with ipods and cell phones, have cable, etc... that if you can afford these "extra things", then you ought to be taking care of basic needs first, and do without the "extra things".

Well, the government is taking care of that argument. Starting with the cell phone, the federal government will take THAT financial pressure off too. Let's jump in line.. perhaps cable is next!

not funny

These are the squash plants I put in the ground over a month ago. Have they grown at all? I know I planted four plants and there are two here.

THIS is a 'volunteer'. It's no where near the garden. It is, however, about a foot from the compost pile.

It's easily over 10 feet long, and just look at the size of the leaves.

It's producing something. But since I didn't plant the darn thing, I don't know what it is. There are blooms and small fruits all over the vine.

This is NOT funny!

GRITS

That's me. I'm a Girl Reared In The South.
I don't think you can get anymore 'south' than lower Alabama, or 'L.A.', as my daddy called it.
Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia are different than any of the other states. Some would argue that South Carolina fit in there too, but I wouldn't know. I never spent any time there.

In the South, children are taught to say, "Yes Ma'am", and "No Ma'am". People continue to say "Yes, Ma'am" and "Yes, Sir" for the rest of thier lives. If you are older than a person, expect a "Yes Ma'am". It doesn't matter how old you are or how old the other person is, or if you married or not. If you are two weeks older, you should expect a "Yes, Ma'am."

In the south, Football is a religion. Fridays are holy days for high school football. It doesn't matter if you don't truly like football; you go to the game to hear and see the band. If you make a date on a Friday night, expect to go to a football game. It's still a date, so you dress up and put on your lipstick just the same.
Your date will have a gun rack in his truck. And yes, there will be a gun or two there. Even the gentlemen are packed and loaded.
Your date will say, "Yes Sir," when your father tells him to not touch you.
When you get to the game, you will want to eat boiled peanuts. Trust me, you will like them. You will like them so much you will not be able to stop eating them.
In fact, boiled peanuts are great date food. You have just enought time between bites to get one peeled so you can say a few words, then put one in your mouth before you say something truly stupid, and give the other person a chance to speak. You'll want to chase it down with some RC "Coke". In the south, all sodas are "coke".
Crossview at Down a Red Dirt Lane understands this southern romance. She's giving away a romantic southern dinner for two. Okay, so it's beyond southern and into redneck, but that's okay too.

destroying capitalism

That is the goal of many people today. It's truly starting to bother me.

A woman called Sean Hannity today while I was listening. She accused Hannity of not wanting children to have health care because he is against the proposed health care bill. (which of course, implies that this government run system that is being proposed is the only way children will get health care)
So, those of us who are against Socialism are "right wing extremest rednecks", and those of us against Socialised medicine "don't want children to have health care".
She went on to say that capitalists are "greedy". Let me understand this: working and not wanting someone, like the government, to steal what you earn is 'greedy'.
I think wanting what someone else has is greedy. But that's just me.

This woman who lives in a bubble then complained that the grand ol' USof A is "the only industrialized country that does not provide heath care for it's citizens."
So? We are also the only country with our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution. The USA takes pride in being different from every other country in the world in many ways, and some of my ancestors fought in the Revolutionary war to give us that. We are set up as a Republic with very clear guidelines about the responsibilities and LIMITS of the Federal government. Health care is not one of those responsibilities. Perhaps this woman would prefer Cuba?

Maybe I should have prefaced everything by laying my cards on the table. Maybe I shouldn't, but I want to make it clear that I am not a 'greedy capitalist'.
My husband works for the state as a public school teacher. After 15 years with the district and a Master's degree, to teach 950 students each year, he gets paid well under $59,000 annual gross.
I stay home, and we have six children at home. My children do not have health insurance. Do I need to repeat that? My children do not have health insurance. Yes, of course, I want my children to have health care when they need it, but I DO NOT WANT THE GOVERNMENT TO GIVE IT TO THEM.
To get health insurance through the school district we would pay a monthly premium of over $700. That money would be GONE, and we wouldn't eat.
According to the new plan, my husband will be FORCED to buy this insurance, or pay a penalty.
We'd then be on food stamps. Great, now we depend on the government to feed us.
Oh wait, that sounds familiar..... isn't that how Communism typically starts? The government takes over big businesses like banks and car companies, then starves it's people so it can feed them and then the people are dependant on the government.

Keep in mind, these are just the rantings of a stay at home mom. I'm not citing any sources, or referring you to statistics. I'm sure that someone who has slept through the night in the past thirteen years would be much more eloquent about these matters, and much more convincing.

I'm just a woman with an attitude. Just like that woman who called Sean Hannity today.

can't pick your family, but you can pick your in-laws

Last weekend was my husband's family reunion. It's an annual affair, and typically takes place somewhere near the original homestead of his great-grandparents. Or maybe it's his grandparents?

He's pure Czech. That was one of the first things Tom told me about himself. I liked the idea of being married to a Bohemian.

The problem is, I can only barely tolerate polkas.

Scratch that... I cannot tolerate polkas.

I learned this weekend that Tom's ancestors came from Moravia

Those are some of this cousins in the photo, in traditional Czech/Moravian costumes. The guy in the middle is showing off that he is single by wearing that long feather in his hat.
It was shameless advertising for the Moravian, Czech, Bohemian men. Any takers?

The family doesn't typically dress in costume for the family reunion, but this year was special and included a tour of the homestead. The cousins who sponsored the reunion created beautiful family time lines and documents, etc. I was impressed.

Especially since I am only recently learning about my own family history. That's another thing on my list of things to do. Recently I learned that names on both sides of my family are Scottish. Soon, hopefully, I'll be able to write more about the 'fifteen year old Cherokee princess' in my lineage.

My family never has family reunions. My father's family had them a few times, but we called them funerals. Now that both my parents have passed, I guess there won't be any more of those type of reunions.

While polkas were playing, I went shopping. The reunion was on the town square of a very small TX town. A road wraps around the small square where the historic courthouse and gazebo stand. The square is surrounded by little shops of antiques, gardening supplies, gift shops and a general store that hasn't changed since the early 1900's. I found this:

PURE soap. Yes, I am excited about the soap.

close the blinds!

Many deep thoughts rolling around in my head today--my spiritual journey, my marriage, my depression...
but I need to make lesson plans so I'll just leave you with this link .

Oh, and just a note, if you are walking on my property? You might see something you don't want to see. So, be warned, and stay on the sidewalk.

this is school?

Anyone who teaches, (except for you with perfect children of course) knows that you cannot turn your back on one student and expect, every time, for that student to finish an assignment while you work with another.
I left 10 yr old son in my bedroom to work.
I went to dining room to work with 13 yr old.
I returned to my bedroom.
Son- "I got carried away with my art".

Say what you want about my parenting, but I'm impressed.
Anyone want to guess what image my son 'created' in the fuzzy fibers of the velveteen fabric of my blanket by holding a stick and throwing his body onto my bed?

it was a dark and stormy day......

It's that time of year for the gulf coast. It's after 8am and the sun isn't out yet. I wish I could share with you the sound of the rain and the wind, the occasional thunder......
It's definitely a 'stay-on-sofa-and-read' kind of day. The kind of day when a book can absorb you into it, leaving your body lifeless as your mind goes into another world.
My daughter tells me that she could tell the earth was waiting for it last night, as she listened to the birds screeching in the trees, and watched the clouds rush through the sky.

Sadly, I will need to venture out into it with my son to the orthodontist to have a broken bracket fixed. Life goes on.

reconciliation

I think I have an open mind. I am willing to listen to the opinions and beliefs of others. It does not mean that I am easily swayed to accept them for my own. On the contrary, I am quite firm. I like to learn about others. I like to know what makes people 'tick'. I like to think that I can do this without judging them.... most of the time.

A family member recently said he wanted to know how I can reconcile my religious beliefs with my political views. He thinks the democratic party is one of compassion. I profess Christianity, but I am a Libertarian for the most part.
Clearly, to me, they go hand in hand.

Many people think that Jesus was a Socialist. I've had more than a few conversations with people who believed that Jesus and his disciples taught "redistribution of the wealth". There are those who would believe that any good Christian would be pushing toward the Socialist government.
I see no connection between the community of the early Christians and a Socialist government.
First, the answer is in the statement-- "community" vs "government".
A community is a body of people with whom we choose to live and/or work. We give freely to that community, and, quite frankly, are instructed to do so by scripture.
A government, on the other hand, is the body of people for whom we vote to bind and protect the communities from outside forces.
I don't remember the apostles setting up bodies of government.

I am not claiming to be a Bible scholar, but I think I have read enough to know though that we Christians are instructed to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, and shelter the homeless. We are not instructed to support the government in taking from a man's earnings and then redistributing them according to its own standards. To take from a man prevents him from giving freely. Skip the bureaucracy, and that money given freely could go a great deal further anyway.
I believe that a child should not go hungry, and a widow should not be concerned about where she should live. It is the obligation of mankind to care for those who cannot care for themselves. It is not the government's. Every time in history when a government took care of a people, that government took control of a people. I do not want anyone to be a slave to my government.

I want to live in a country where the government leaves my family to live and worship, share and love without interference. I want to live in a country where an artist is free to create and sell her goods based on what they are truly worth, according to a thriving economy, not what a government decides all artist should be payed, as is done in a Socialist governed state. I want there to be competition for her so that when I buy, I know I am getting quality. I am willing to pay for that.
Saving the most important for last, I have to say that our president has made some big promises that he should not have the power to make. One of those was a promise he made to Planned Parenthood before he was elected. He promised them more money. He promised them more support. He promised them more laws protecting them, and fewer restrictions. All so that more babies could be killed in the name of "reproductive freedom".
How can I reconcile my religious beliefs with my political views? I think once you are reminded of the 4000 innocent human lives lost through abortion every day in this country, and are reminded that the Democratic party "strongly and unequivocally supports Roe v Wade and a woman's right to choose a [safe] and legal abortion...." then you can understand my reasoning.

anything but stagnet

I have been hesitant to write about my faith.

Lately, it has been cold, dark, empty.

For a short time, I questioned the existence of G-d at all. Believing in a higher power, I wondered how concerned this Power is with me.

Then I remembered being happier with life when I believed.
So I decided to believe again.

But it is coming back slowly. And nothing is fitting back in the same places.

Nothing is quite satisfying.

I do not question history.

I know that Jesus started one Church, that was quickly divided, if only slightly, into two: the Catholic and Orthodox. The differences are understandable; although I was taught to believe the truth of the Catholic Church, I can understand how and why those who are Orthodox believe what they do.

It was from the Catholic Church that all Christian denominations separated themselves. I think this is sad. Group after group decided to stop believing what the Catholic Church was teaching.

I won't argue or discuss who was right and who was wrong. This isn't a catechism lesson; it's my personal journey.

What I find more sad, is that the Latin/Western Catholic Church has allowed herself to be watered down in the various parishes.

I'm tired. I'm tired of lax rules. I'm tired of people being more concerned about hurt feelings than truth.

For some of us, truth is the only thing that matters. We feel nothing. We need to know that what we are buying is the truth.

I need to walk into a church and SEE the awesomeness of a higher power. I need to be in the presence of a higher power that knocks my socks off.


Unfortunately, I need to know that the others with whom I worship are getting their socks knocked off too.
I know I cannot control what others believe. I know that the people sitting next to me in the pew have their own thoughts, their own feelings, their own beliefs.
But they should not be allowed their own truths. They should be guided and corrected when they stray, or if they come to the altar rail without believing, without recognising.
I want to worship in a place where all are buying the same truth, and are there because they believe it, or at least want to believe.

I learned something last week, and my entire family is excited about it.
The Catholic church is made up of 23 Churches. The Church with which we are most familiar in this country is the Western Catholic Church.

When Saints Cyril and Methodius brought the Faith to my husband's grandparents' homeland, they brought the Ruthenian Catholic Church.

The Ruthenians and other Eastern Catholic Churches celebrate Mass using the Byzantine Rite.
I get chills reading about the history of this Rite. It is similar to the chills I get when I read about, study, talk about or participate in a Tridentine Mass. The difference to me is the history and the complete acceptance of the Byzantine Rite. While the Tridentine is one offering of the Western Church, the Byzantine Rite is THE Mass of the Eastern Catholic Church.

It is also THE connection with the original Church who's foundation we share with our Orthodox brothers.

I am moving toward reconciliation with my Higher Power. We are moving toward this new parish. My husband told me I am leading him back home.
I invite you to share with me on my journey.

pdf

The yearbook for the Children of the Holy House program is finished!

Okay, so not truly. A few months ago, I compiled all the photos, all the names, all the subtitles, the jokes, the comments, etc and created 8 1/2 by 11 in pages for the book. They turned out beautiful, and I was proud.
I gave a disc of the school portraits I shot of each student to one of my yearbook staff/students to compile the portrait pages. She completed about a third of the work. A few weeks ago, after receiving the incomplete disc from her, I finished that. Yay! Finished!
No, not yet.
Then I waited for the letters from our director which were to be printed in the book. Letters received--- finally finished!
No, not yet.
We --the director, the assistant director, and I-- then changed our minds about how to publish the book. Instead of taking the pages on disc to Kinkos and having a crimp edge book printed, we will use a year book publisher. It is, surprisingly, actually less expensive than the Kinkos would be.
The catch? I would need to download the 'adobe acrobat pro' program onto my computer to change these beautiful jpg images into the combined pdf format the publisher requires. Fortunately, this $400 program gives a trial for 30 days free.
So I download the program.
Then a 'bring up' my images, one at a time, number each page, (two or three steps) and save to a pdf format. I had a short, simple question, so I called the publisher. My question was answered, and she asked, "you are leaving a 1/4 in edge around each page for error, right?"

"huh?!"

It turns out, an 8 1/2 by 11 in page will actually be shrunk and trimmed, leaving a 1/4 in white edge around the pages. In other words, if a photograph or word goes to the edge, it may or may not be cut off. Chances are, it will be chopped right off.

Next step, delete saved pdf files.
I am now in the process of opening all the saved jpg image pages in the original program, and copying them onto a new page, leaving the edge. I am a little more than half way through.
I will then have to render them printable again, then bring them back into the acrobat program, and save them in a file, to be uploaded to the printer.
Why not? I have nothing else to do. I'm sure I will get it [mostly] finished today.

I will have this wonderful professional, easy to use program on my computer for me use for the next 27 days.
I think I will take advantage of it and put together some advertisements for my photography.

Any other ideas?

eating one day at a time

We did it. We went from paycheck to paycheck eating within the grocery budget, without sneaking in a purchase or two with the credit card.
I am determined to live within our means in the smallest ways. In the past, I might have gone shopping the day before pay day and used the credit card, knowing I'd have the money the next day. With my new determination, living only on cash, we will learn to limit ourselves to what our bodies need, (and yes, chocolate is a 'need') and learn to use what we have.
Yes, we ran out of bread, but we had yeast. When we ran out of yeast, I made muffins, and used the last of the applesauce because we were also out of butter. We ate, we ate healthy, (we ate pasta several times) and we were happy.
Today is payday, the refrigerator is almost empty, and it is very clean! Yes, folks, when there is little food in the fridge, it is the perfect opportunity to get it clean. We have a fridge large enough to hold 11 gallons of milk. I took it apart today in ways I didn't know it would come apart, and cleaned! There will be no images available of the 'before' here.
Now, I'm off to the grocery store to fill it up.

Matylda

I did a lot of reading this morning about slave labor, and child labor. Yes, folks, it is alive and well.
I am not sure how prevalent it is. I do believe that it happens more often than we want to believe, and in places that we wouldn't think possible. I also know that anytime I buy anything at the 'Wally's Stuper Center' I am taking a chance that my money is going to a communist government, slave labor, Planned Parenthood, or something in which I don't believe. Perhaps it's going to pay a man the only wage he has chance to make, and maybe it's not what he should be making, but it's what is feeding his hungry children. We could sit around all day arguing whether or not we should buy from China or not, or whether we should buy from the store that doesn't allow solicitors in front.
I know there are stores I like. I know that buying in the 'mom and pop' shops mean that I am keeping money in my community. I know that when I buy from my favorite shops on the internet that I am getting quality products that will last, and I'm not paying a large corporation or government who encourages slave labor or uses dangerous elements. On the other hand, they might be in a country with policies that make me cringe. I have only so much control. I can make only so many choices.
Even when I buy from an individual, I don't know everything about that person, or what they do with their money. That's okay. We each need to draw our lines, make out choices and try to buy with integrity.

Please notice the new photo of 'Matylda' on the sidebar. You might remember that 'Matylda' was added to the family on H's 13th birthday. She has become the favorite doll of all the girls. Any parent looking for a wonderful hand-made doll, should consider contacting Annette at Wool Creations and asking her to custom design a doll for your princess. My princess chose the skin tone, the color and length of hair, the color of eyes, and the fabric for the dress for her new 'friend'. You cannot find a one-of-a-kind doll at that Stuper Center in town.
I cannot get over the quality and workmanship that went into making 'Matylda'. I imagine H's children playing with this doll, many years from now. She's made in the tradition of Waldorf style, so her face is almost expressionless, leaving room for imaginative play. Her warm body made and stuffed with natural fibers take on the warmth of a child's hug, remaining just firm enough in the arms.
Best of all, unlike some of the dolls off the toy shelf that are made by child, slave or otherwise overworked and underpaid labor, these dolls are individually made with love and pride.
From Annette: "I have been making dolls for over 20 years and have learned and changed a lot over the years. One thing has not changed is the love I have for creating these dolls. I tend to every doll with the same excitement, pride and love as I did my first."

My intention was not to write an advertisement, but I think that when we parents find something meaningful in a product, we should share it. I aso believe that we artist need to encourage eachother, and sometimes that means a little free advertising.

bake sale?

My children think I should have a bake sale to earn money for the trip to Italy.

Any ideas or suggestions to actually make money on this?



This is Cinnamon bread made from the dragon bread recipe. I kneaded in the Cinnamon and currants after letting it rise, then let it rise a second time in the loaf pan. We had it for breakfast this morning; this loaf is for tomorrow.

a rewarding life part: two

I had revelation while wetting my hair this morning.
I am my father!
This has nothing to do with my hair.

My father went to school to learn to fix air conditioning units, and he was good at it.
Times were often tight in my house during this time, but we had food and a good house. I had no complaints or needs, and I didn't know until I was nearly an adult how my mother had to scrimp to get the bills paid.
It was more than a few times that my father went to a house call to fix an air conditioner (not a luxury in lower Alabama) and when he was finished, not charge the family nearly what it was worth, and sometimes not charge at all. He told me later that he would notice that the children didn't have good shoes, or the house paint was peeling or the house looked liked it was going to fall down, (much like the conditions of his childhood home) so he couldn't charge them. HE didn't make enough money to go to Italy either.

There is another side to this though, of which I need to be cautious. My father also had an affliction of very low self worth. I believe that even though he was a very generous man, and would give the shirt off his back, part of that was because he didn't believe he deserved the shirt.

Although he did fix the air conditioning units of some miserably hot families, maybe he convinced himself that if he could do it, it must not be worth much..... anyone could do it.

Is this what I am doing with my photography? Was my father, and am I now, hiding behind generosity because we are afraid that what we do truly isn't worth money?
I will remember my father as a benevolent man. Anything I learn from this, I won't use it for his memory. I take it with myself and move forward,
and maybe, just maybe, squash some of these sour grapes and throw them out.