The Fall Line-Up

I am awfully excited.

I wanted to post a picture of the piles of fabric and stacks of patterns that will hopefully take up a fair amount of my free time this fall as well, but then I realized that the final destination for many of those items is under some Christmas tree or another, so I'd better not post them for all to see.

The books, if you can't see them clearly in the photo, are: That Distant Land by Wendell Berry; John Adams by David McCullough; Remembering by Wendell Berry; The Brothers K by David James Duncan; Emma by Jane Austen; The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King; and The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. I am reading The Beekeeper's Apprentice right now and am really enjoying it. I don't often - ok, ever - read mysteries. This is the first time in a long time that I have felt my heart rate quicken and my shoulders tense from reading a book. Of course most good books have surprises and unexpected twists and turns, but not page after page after page. I rather like it. It is a pleasant detour from my usual choice of rather mellow literature. I do understand, however, why sleep experts make mysteries an exception in their advice to read for a while before going to bed. The imagery did not keep me awake, as it does after watching a suspenseful movie (depending on the imagery, a tense movie can terrorize me for months), but I was far too invigorated to fall asleep quickly. I felt as though I had just returned from a long run - tired, but alert. The first Berry book mentioned above is a book of short stories, so I think I'll start reading one of those before bed and will leave the suspenseful reading for earlier hours.

Why I Hate Having To Choose A Party

Washington's primary elections were yesterday. I have a confession to make. I don't like voting. I always vote because I believe it is my responsibility to do so. Voting is a privilege that I do not take lightly. But I don't enjoy it. I mean, I wouldn't call voting a rip-roaring good time. It can be tedious, it can be frustrating, and it can take a fair amount of work if you are going to take it seriously and actually learn about the candidates and the issues that are on the ballot. But that wasn't really the intended point of this post.

What I meant to say is that Washington now requires voters to choose a political party (in the primaries) and to vote only for candidates who represent that party. If you deviate from this rule and vote for, say, a Republican Senate candidate and a Democratic House candidate, your entire partisan ballot will be disregarded. I think this is stupid. I usually vote for Republicans on moral grounds, but I want to have the option of voting for whomever I please. And the thing that really bugged me this time around was that there were several positions on the ballot for which no Republicans were running. If I wanted to vote for a Republican senator, which I did, then I had to forfeit the right to vote for several smaller offices. What kind of a democracy is that?

Well, anyway, I'm no political genius, but I think that mandatory partisan voting is stupid.

My New Best Friend

Last year I borrowed some Christmas clothes for my daughter from a friend whose daughter is one year older than mine. They were really nice little outfits, lots of red velvet and lace and such. Well, this friend just had another baby girl a couple of days ago, so I thought it was about time I returned her clothes to her. The clothes had been sitting in the laundry room for months, so I washed them. I followed all of the instructions. Most of the fabrics are red, but there is one particular dress, the fanciest of them all, that has a red velvet bodice, and then a white satin skirt with an embroidered chiffon overlay. It is really beautiful. Elise wore it to her Aunt Bethany's wedding last fall. I followed all of the instructions when washing this dress. I washed it separately - an entire wash load dedicated to this one little dress! - in cold water. Yeah. It still ran. I pulled it out of the washer and saw, to my great dismay, a light red streak right down the middle of the white skirt. Now, I am not a big laundry person. I launder "dry clean only" garments at home. I put sweaters and unmentionables in the dryer. So my first instinct was to run out and buy my friend a gift certificate to the store where she originally bought the dress. But then I decided to see if I could possibly fix my mistake. I looked up solutions in all of my housekeeping books. Nothing. Or at least, nothing I could use. One book listed three chemicals that I could buy from janitorial supply stores, but they all came with rather dire warnings. I tried to find helpful hints online. I found out how to prevent fabric from bleeding, and that was it. The Clorox website had nothing. It was depressing.

And then, all of a sudden, my eyes rested upon my new best friend. The Tide On the Go Stain Removal pen. I keep it on my kitchen counter and have used it on fresh food stains (which abound when you a) have a kid and b) are somewhat clumsy with food, as I am), but I certainly didn't think it was up to the task of reversing a fabric color bleed. Nevertheless, I had nothing to lose, so I gave it a shot. Worked like a charm. It was remarkable. A little bit of dabbing, a little bit of rubbing, and the skirt was as good as new. Had the people who developed the pen been standing in my kitchen, I would have kissed them.

It was a great moment.

What I've Been Doing

I have had a lovely few weeks here. We had the great pleasure of visiting with our dear friend and my former roommate over the past week. She was not so much a houseguest as a temporary family member. Houseguests don't wash your dishes or care for your child while you take a shower. Nor, I might add, do they comfortably cream you in card games.

While she was here, we took the opportunity to play tourist in our own area. We went island hopping in the San Juans, spending several hours each on Orcas and San Juan Island. It was so beautiful. We really do live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, I'm sure of it. One of the best parts of our day in the islands was that my parents-in-law (who happen to live in the town that houses the ferries that service the islands) babysat all day. No strollers!

So we had a grand time. To our great delight, our friend will likely be moving back to this area in the very near future. (So for those of you who know her and didn't get to see her, she'll be back shortly.) In the meantime, I have been assigned a few books to read and a few videos to watch, and I am looking forward to them all.

In other news, I am becoming rather frustrated by a lack of volunteers. I coordinate the volunteer nursery workers at my church. This is a job that I typically enjoy as it affords me the opportunity to get to know many wonderful people, including kind volunteers, parents of young children, and of course, my personal favorite, young children themselves. Lately, though, it has been like pulling teeth to get anyone to commit to working with the kids. I'm quite concerned about the upcoming Wednesday night program. It begins next Wednesday and there are no nursery workers! And I can't do it because I work with the older kids on Wednesday nights; otherwise I would just do it myself. Sigh. I have heard that George Muller, the great founder of many of world's Christian orphanages in the 19th century, never once asked anyone for money to fund his charities. In fact, I believe he never even made anyone aware of his monetary needs. He simply prayed, and the needs were met every single time. What faith! Sometimes I think I should do that. Not ask for volunteers, not make an announcement at church that we are short-staffed; just pray.

A few weeks ago, I received a message from my friend Janene that stated she had taught herself to knit. This was very inspiring to me. We have another friend who is quite an expert knitter (in my opinion), and she makes the loveliest scarves and socks and sweaters and hats, as you can see if you go to her site. Well, Janene and I have long admired her work, and Janene has crocheted for many years, so she took the plunge and picked up some knitting needles and just taught herself to knit. I admire people who are not afraid to learn. So I took my cue from Janene and went to the library in search of some good "how-to" crochet books. (I said I was inspired by the knitting; that doesn't mean I'm ready for it. I am inspired by people who climb Mt. Everest, therefore I might walk around Greenlake.) I found the most wonderful book that explains each crochet stitch step-by-step. Most of them show you two stitches and then say, "Now you can crochet anything with simple variations of these two stitches." That is technically true, but if you don't know how to make those variations, it doesn't do you a bit of good. So this book that I found explains all of the variations in great detail. And I am crocheting a small afghan! I am quite excited about it. The pattern calls for smaller stitches, softer yarn, and softer hues than I am using. It is supposed to be a baby blanket. I decided to use slightly larger stitches, not-so-soft yarn (it's less expensive, and I did not think it prudent to invest in high quality, expensive yarn for my first project), and a deep red yarn that matches the stripes in my sofa. It will just be a throw or lap blanket, not a baby blanket. I am really enjoying the project.

Now I want to read the biography of George Muller. I have it, and it is a small book, but I have never read it. So many books, so little time!

Secrets of a Dust-Free Home

Not mine, mind you. Mine is not a dust-free home. It probably should be, what with an asthmatic and a toddler living here. But it is not.

I was just dusting my living room and was thinking of ways to lessen the overall dustiness as well as the need for frequent dusting - which I guess are really the same thing. Anyway, two ideas came to mind. The first idea to reduce dust and, thus, dusting is to not have stuff. If you don't have stuff, you don't have to dust it. The second idea is to use the stuff you have. Books that are read, dishes that are used, CDs that are listened to, photo albums that are looked through, and toys that are played with do not need to be dusted very often, if ever. Of course that principle doesn't apply to everything. Picture frames that are looked at still need to be dusted. (Look at all these phrases that I'm ending with prepositions. Shame on me.)

Well, those were just the thoughts I had while dusting my living room. And this post is the excuse I gave myself for taking a break from dusting the living room. Back to dusting.

Snowballs and Sequences

It all started with making the bed.

I came home from a perfectly lovely day of sewing and visiting with dear friends. Elise went down immediately for a nap, leaving me free to tackle some domestic chores that were left undone this morning. I decided to make the bed. I try to make the bed every day. I just really enjoy getting into a clean, fresh, neat bed after a long day, so even when tonight is closer than last night, I still make an effort to make the bed. And that's what started it all.

While making the bed, I thought it would be nice to put a different blanket at the end of the bed than the one that is usually there. I chose a pretty patchwork quilt. When I went to put it on the bed, though, I noticed that it smelled a bit musty, so I decided to wash it. Down to the laundry room we went. Drat, there were already clothes in the washing machine that needed to be washed. I started the machine. Then I noticed that there was a pile of items waiting to be washed. These were things like blankets, a coat that Elise has outgrown, a couple of bright red articles that demand their own special washing machine time. In other words, things that didn't make it into the normal line-up of things that must be cleaned in order to carry on with civilized life. So I decided to just clean them and be done with it. As I was separating them into their respective loads, I saw that the floor of the laundry room was quite dusty. The ventilation in the room isn't great, and the lint from the dryer causes a light, dusty film to develop on most surfaces. So I decided to sweep the floor. Then I realized that it wouldn't do a lot of good to sweep the floor so long as the other surfaces were still dusty, so I decided to clean them. During this thought process, the washing machine finished its cycle and I transferred the clothes into the dryer - finally getting my blanket into the washer. I cleaned the lint filter on the dryer, and when I went to throw the lint into the garbage can, I noticed that the garbage can was getting quite full. So I decided to empty it. Up the stairs I went, meaning to empty the garbage can and get the broom and dustpan. Unfortunately, the kitchen garbage can (into which I meant to dump the laundry room garbage) was full. So I emptied it. Then I emptied the laundry room garbage can, and then I noticed that it was quite dirty. So I decided to clean it out. I took it to the kitchen sink and found the sink to be full of dishes. Now, I didn't see any point in moving the dishes to the counter just to be moved into the dishwasher later, so I decided to put them straight into the dishwasher. Only the dishwasher was full of clean dishes. Oh, well. I emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it with the dirty dishes. Well, once the dishes are cleared away, I might as well clean the rest of the kitchen - so I did. Once that was done, I finally began to work my way back down my chain of events. I cleaned out the garbage can (sidetracking momentarily to clean out the kitchen garbage can as well). I brought the broom and dustpan downstairs, washed the washer and dryer surfaces, washed the other surfaces in the room, and swept the floor. The quilt was transferred to the dryer.

So now I have a clean kitchen, two clean and disinfected garbage cans, a clean laundry room, a bunch of clean assorted articles of clothing and linens...and a clean patchwork quilt at the end of my bed. There are some benefits to being easily distracted.

Garbage

I really appreciate our garbage service men. There is something so satisfying about having garbage taken away. To know that every Friday morning, two big bins of stuff that I don't need are going to be emptied into the giant, smelly trucks, and then returned, empty, to me...it's wonderful. It somehow gives me a great sense of order and tidiness. I actually enjoy opening the cabinet under our kitchen sink and finding an empty trash can. I like knowing that that clean white plastic bag will, over the next couple of days, contain for us all of the unpleasant, unwanted, and unnecessary leftovers of our daily life, and that at the end of the week, the dutiful employees of Allied Waste will come to take our collection of filled plastic bags away from us forever. Thank you, Allied Waste.

Yeah, I know, I'm weird.

Flower's Garden

A few weeks ago, my parents-in-law were here for an afternoon. We were in our back yard playing with the baby, and I was embarrassed about the state of our yard. The grass was tidy and short, but the many areas in our yard that have been purposefully set aside as garden space or flower beds were full of weeds. We did not plant a garden this year, and only managed to plant a few flowers in the front yard. My parents-in-law, on the other hand, have a back yard that could be featured in Better Homes & Gardens, and a vegetable garden that could feed a small nation. So I was embarrassed.

Then my mother-in-law, in her humble, hospitable way, said the most wonderful thing. And she didn't even take credit for it. She said, "Well, my mom always said, you can't have flowers outside your home when you're raising flowers inside your home." Grandma Carpenter, a wise woman whom I did not have the honor of meeting, was referring of course to parenting. It seems she has passed her wisdom along to her daughter.

Milestones

It is so much fun watching Elise grow up. There are new delights every day. The other day she picked up a stuffed toy dog (Chiwak, for those of you who know us well) and said, "oof! oof!" She breaks out into this huge grin every time I start to sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider", and now she tries to do the hand motions. This morning at the breakfast table, she was drinking out of her sippy cup and, miracle of miracles, she gently placed the cup back on the table when she was finished! Now, I realize that this seems insignificant. To me it is huge. When finished with her cup, Elise usually just lets go of it, allowing it to fall to the ground or, even better, upside-down on her lap in the highchair or carseat. We have been working on this for a while now. She'll drop her cup on the floor - usually carelessly, more from the will of gravity than the will of Elise, although sometimes most deliberately, and these times result in a more stern reprimand - and I will pick it up, place it properly on the table, and explain for the umpteenth time that we do not drop our cups on the floor. This morning, when she carefully placed the cup on the table, right side up, and then looked at me for approval, I melted. All of the sticky messes in her seats, her soggy clothes, the frequent surprise of stepping into a small puddle of milk on the floor - they were all worth the effort, because today she got it. Sigh. I love her.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

It is hot. Quite uncomfortably hot, even by my Midwestern standards. My parents, who live down south in Oregon, actually bought an air conditioner - something they never saw fit to do during my childhood in Illinois, where the diamond days of summer stretched from May through September. But I am not bitter.

We bought a kiddie pool and let Elise cool off in it for a while. She seemed to think it was great fun, and she looked so cute in her tiny little bathing suit. She is going to start swimming lessons tomorrow. Of course at such a young age, the purpose of swimming lessons is just to become accustomed to the water and to have fun. Swimming lessons for Elise meant that I had to go shopping for a swimming suit for myself. This is traditionally a most unpleasant outing for me. This time, however, my dear friend Janene gave me the good advice to try shopping at a sporting goods store rather than a department store. This turned out to be a great idea. (I realize that I have just started the last three sentences with the word "this". This is not very versatile of me.) The sporting goods store had only a handful of suits, and they were all meant to be worn for the purpose of swimming, not for parading oneself in front of anyone interested in looking. I was in and out of the store in under 30 minutes with as satisfactory of a suit as I believe I will ever find (swimming suits will never be my favorite article of clothing). Thanks for the advice, Janene!

Elise has struggled a bit with the heat. I worry about her. We do our best to keep her cool. I have Pedialyte popsicles in the freezer for tomorrow. Today she didn't drink as much as I would have liked her to. She didn't eat much, either, but I think that is to be expected in such heat. (TMI WARNING.) Her wet diapers have decreased, and she actually did not manage to keep her lunch down this afternoon. Once that unfortunate event happened, I put her in a cool bath and let her play for a long time. After that she took a nap in just a diaper with a fan aimed right at her crib. When she woke up, we left the house for a couple of hours and spent our time mostly in the air conditioned car or in air conditioned stores. By the time we got home, the temperature was at least tolerable and Elise was playful and energetic again. I hope for her sake that the weather cools down soon.

Oh, the humanity!

I was just thinking - isn't it great that we're people? I'm so grateful that I'm a person. I mean, think about it. People, humans, are at the highest level of existence in this world. (There are those people who really like cabbage or hamsters who might disagree with me. I am writing from a Christian perspective. As a Christian, I believe that humans have been given the position of highest earthly beings.) There are a lot of creatures in this world. I can't even think of a number big enough to come close to being able to measure all of the living things. I could have been created as a tree or a goldfish or a mushroom or a bacterium or a sponge. Of course, then I wouldn't have been "I", but still, God could have created me as any of His living creatures. Or even, I suppose, as a non-living creature. God didn't only create those things that experience life and death. He could have made me a rock, or water, or an element. Really, of the gazillions (to revert to the language of childhood) of things that God created, the chances of any given thing being a person are pretty slim. How lucky are we to have been made humans?!? Pretty darn lucky.

Curtains

What I should have been doing:






What I did instead:




This is a curtain for the baby's room. It's not done, but at least it's pieced so I can see what it will look like. I'm pleased with it.

Independence Day

Yesterday I saw a TV commercial for a car sale. A "4th of July" car sale. The ad flashed images of shiny new cars, parked neatly in their rows, beckoning for some patriotic American to come and take them home. "America the Beautiful" was the song chosen by the car company to accompany the ad. "America the Beautiful". I don't get much opportunity to sing the historic songs of patriotism these days, but I'm pretty sure that "America the Beautiful" doesn't include anything about the beauty of "rows of shiny cars".

I am disappointed by the way that we Americans observe our national, patriotic holidays. Memorial Day, Independence Day, Veteran's Day. Now, I recognize that Independence Day differs from the other two. Independence Day should be a day of celebration. It is the day that we celebrate the birth of our nation. We SHOULD celebrate! But not with car sales. Not with 0% financing until 2008. How do those things commemorate the sacrifices made by our founding fathers?

I am preaching to myself here. I haven't quite figured out exactly the best way to celebrate. I have an inkling that an appropriate Independence Day celebration would include family and friends enjoying one another's company, enjoying the freedom that was so hard-earned by those who came before us. It would include a time to reflect on what we are celebrating. It would include an act of gratitude toward those who are still making sacrifices to maintain our freedom. The other patriotic holidays - Memorial Day and Veteran's Day, specifically - should be observed similarly, I think, only perhaps not so lightheartedly. These days are, after all, set aside as times to remember and appreciate our servicemen and women, especially those who have given their lives for our country. They are not necessarily meant to be happy occasions. (Contrary to popular belief, we do not need to be happy all the time.) If I may make so bold a comparison, Memorial Day is to Independence Day as Good Friday is to Easter. A horrible day, a day of ultimate sacrifice. Without it, we would have nothing to celebrate. And, just as Easter is not about pastel eggs and candy, so Independence Day should not be about fireworks and barbecues. These things are ways that we can enjoy the day, but if they obstruct the true meaning, then they are worthless.

So now I'm thinking about how to celebrate. Here are some ideas:

• Learn all of the verses to The Star-Spangled Banner and read a biography of Francis Scott Key.
• Volunteer at a VA hospital.
• Spend an afternoon visiting with residents at a nursing home (lots of WWII veterans now live in communities like this).
• Support our active duty military personnel. www.americasupportsyou.mil.
• Read the Declaration of Independence.
• Spend time as a voter registration volunteer.
• Make sure YOU are registered to vote!
• Visit a veterans' memorial.
• Watch a movie that portrays the sacrifices made for the sake of freedom, such as The Patriot, Glory, Saving Private Ryan, or We Were Soldiers.

Have a happy Independence Day.

Perilous Ventures

Elise is ten months old now and is "cruising" - pulling herself to stand while holding onto furniture and walking alongside said furniture. It's very cute, but it has also made us realize how dangerous growing up really is. It is 11:21 in the morning right now. So far today, Elise has: 1) fallen off her favorite climbing toy (i.e., Mommy's filing box) onto her head, 2) fallen backwards from a standing position onto the linoleum floor, and taking a heavy piece of petrified wood with her (we use it as a bookend), 3) gotten her finger stuck in the wheel of a pull toy, and 4) bonked herself in the face with Daddy's keys, which make a splendid rattle. All before her first nap. I can't wait to see what the afternoon holds.

Now some of you might be thinking, "What negligent parents!" You either recognize the aforementioned events as normal perils associated with graduating from babyhood to toddlerhood, or you think these minor injuries are the result of parental negligence. If the former, you are correct and discerning. If the latter, well, phooey on you.

Addendum: While I was typing this, Elise crawled under swing and tried to stand up, which resulted in not only hitting her head on the bottom of the swing, but also in the swing swinging and coming back to hit her in the head a second time. Maybe being indoors today is a bad idea.

Elise

"Only a dummy would give this up for something as common as money." - Grandpa Joe, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Think of it what you will

Once I saw this guy on a bridge about to jump. I said, "Don't do it!" He said, "Nobody loves me." I said, "God loves you. Do you believe in God?" He said, "Yes." I said, "Are you a Christian or a Jew?" He said, "A Christian." I said, "Me, too! Protestant or Catholic?" He said, "Protestant." I said, "Me, too! What franchise?" He said, "Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?" He said, "Northern Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist or Northern Liberal Baptist?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region, or Northern Conservative Baptist Eastern Region?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region." I said, "Me, too!"
Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912." I said, "Die, heretic!" And I pushed him over.

- Emo Philips, I think.

Projects

We've been working on a lot of projects around my house. It feels so great to get them done. My husband has been working his tail off all weekend cleaning and organizing the basement. It looks fabulous. I have been working in the baby's room. I had all these grand plans of a beautiful, dreamy nursery before Elise was born. Then she was born, and what was still undone has remained undone. Until now. We finally got a dresser for her, and are finally hanging the various pictures and such on her walls. My sewing room has been rendered useful once again and I am busily working on sewing and craft projects, trying to be with it enough this year to actually finish some of the projects that I intend to use as gifts come Christmas. It has been a productive weekend. It's nice.

An Admirable Family

I mentioned before that we visited with my college roommate while on vacation last week. That fact really deserves greater acknowledgement. My friend lives on her own, but when we were there she stayed overnight at her parents' house, where we also stayed, because they have more room for overnight guests than she does. The family is admirable. I really enjoyed watching them and visiting with them.

I don't really know how to explain the appeal of their home. I would imagine that if you have ideas of a good home that are similiar to mine, you will get it, and if you don't, you'll probably think I am silly to blog about something so insignificant. They just have one of those homes that puts you instantly at ease. It wasn't just order and cleanliness, although those virtues were certainly present. It was a real sense of home and family, a genuine atmosphere of love, stability, and generosity. I'll try to give some examples of what I mean, although tangible things really cannot do justice.

Yanni, the mother, had flowers all over the house. She grew them all herself, and they were scattered about in vases, mugs, bowls and other dishes. They were beautiful. She made rhubarb-strawberry cobbler from rhubarb and strawberries that she grew. Her 3/4 acre yard is like a botanical garden right in the middle of dry, barren northern California. She said that when the family moved from Alaska twenty years ago, they had such fond memories of Alaska that she worked for years to cultivate some of the plants that they remember from there. The hallway wall is covered in family photos. The refrigerator has pictures of the multiple children that the family sponsors through a relief organization. The little neighbor boy comes over and picks his fill of strawberries. At 8:00 in the morning, while we were eating our breakfast of eggs (from the chickens in the backyard) and zucchini bread (from zucchini grown in Yanni's garden) and coffee, another neighbor from up the road called Yanni to ask if she would like to go for a walk a little later in the morning. The big yellow dog looks ferocious and is really just a gentle giant. He is so fond of his human companions that if they are in the back yard and forget to leave a door open for him to leave the house and join them, he will push the screen out of the kitchen window and jump out. They don't lock their doors. When we mentioned that we should go out and lock our car before going to bed, my friend laughed and said she leaves her keys in the car. When we first arrived, my friend's dad greeted us warmly, saying how good it was to see us again...although he had only met us once before. He barbecued up some hamburgers and hotdogs for us, then sat at the table and talked with us while we ate. He's one of those great conversationalists, the kind that you can talk to for twenty minutes and you suddenly realize that he knows a whole lot more about you than you know about him. He's a contractor of some sort, I think, and his wife is a nurse. They have five children. When they first moved into their house twenty years ago, it was 1100 sf. They have spent two decades renovating and adding onto it, making it more livable for the seven of them. Yanni mentioned that she would like to add on again, to make the actual living area bigger. With five kids, they naturally focused on adding bedrooms in their previous renovations. But now, with children-in-law and grandchildren just around the corner, she would like to have a larger general living area so they can all be in the same room for holidays and family gatherings. But, she said, how could she add on yet again when there are starving people in the world?

Their home is wonderful. There is nothing cheap about it. There is nothing extravagant about it. The family is warm and generous and they are just about the least pretentious people I've ever met. There is a feeling of sensible frugality and simple luxury in that house. I left with great admiration for the whole family.

The Neighborhood of Make Believe

I read Mere Christianity a week or so ago. Great book. It got me thinking (as any great book should do). C.S. Lewis uses a lot of highly imaginative examples and analogies, things involving the relativity of time, theories of evolution unlike any I have heard before, and so on. This is not surprising. Lewis had an incredible imagination; add to that his ability to communicate his imaginings, and you've got a remarkably gifted man. Anyway, I had a hard time with some of his suggestions. Not the literal meanings, but the imaginings. I'm so darned practical and realistic that I sometimes struggle with things that aren't obviously practical and realistic. And this, I have found, is a great handicap. It really inhibits my understanding of God. I could discuss this at length, but I won't put you through that. The real point, or at least the most clear resolution in my own mind, is that I don't want my children to have this handicap. Yes, of course I want my kids to have a good handle on reality, I don't want them to live in La-La Land. But I want them to know that the world is a really big place, and the universe is even bigger, and God is even bigger, and that we may not have the best vantage point from which to view our own lives or the lives of those around us, and we most certainly don't know all there is to know about God. I want them to have minds that are sharp and discerning, and hearts that are full of wonder and awe. I want them to have good imaginations. I will do everything I can to encourage and strengthen their imaginations. This is one of my primary goals as a parent.

Harry E. Fosdick said, "I would rather live in a world where my life is surrounded by mystery than live in a world so small that my mind could comprehend it." If I had to judge Harry's life by this one statement, I would say he was a very wise man.

Vacation

We've just returned from a road trip to San Bernardino, CA. My family organized a multi-phase surprise party in honor of my grandmother's 75th birthday. My husband, my daughter and I drove from Seattle, stopping in Portland to pick up my sister. My brother, his wife and their two children drove from Colorado Springs. My parents and two youngest siblings drove from the Portland area. It was a great surprise, all of us showing up on different days and at different times. Grandma was quite overcome, as evidenced by the fact that she stood at the kitchen sink crying for quite a while after the last group of grandchildren showed up.

Quite a few of us met at Disneyland while we were there - a great benefit of having relatives in southern California. I don't like amusement park rides, so I walked around with the baby and enjoyed the sights. We did take her on the It's A Small World ride, and she absolutely loved it. She did her excited bouncing dance thing - Janene, just like she did at the restaurant when you were holding her. Our six-almost-seven-year-old niece bought a "My First Ears" pink Mickey Mouse ears hat for our daughter. It's really cute.

We got to spend some time with a dear friend of ours, one of my college roommates, on the way there and on the way home. It was so good to see her, to catch up. Spending time with her is refreshing.

We returned one week and two hours after we left, and totalled about 2500 miles. It was exhausting and fun. Our daughter did amazingly well. She only fussed when we drove too long past her meal time and when Aunt Bethany was not in the back seat with her. I am so glad to be home and am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things. Still, I had a good time and am very glad that we went.