The Journey of Writer Danica Favorite

Wasted on Twitter

2012-01-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

I just Tweeted what could have been a great post.

And since I have no post creativity left in me, here it is...

Rapunzel was the original Animaniac. She drove her parents nuts so the only option was locking her in a tower.

Okay, I admit it, my kids are driving me nuts. And they just got home from school...

Thanking my way out of the grumpies

2012-01-17T11:26:00.000-07:00

Today I am grumpy.

As part of our simplify thing, and the whole saving money thing, we're switching from the cable bundle of phone, internet and cable to Dish, DSL, and VOIP- non bundle. I suppose, long-term, it will save us some money. But right now, all the start up costs and time involved have been such a pain that I'm wishing we'd just let the cable companies take our money. You know, like that commercial where the family keeps handing over money. Personally, I'd be fine with getting rid of cable and TV altogether, but I've lost that fight too many times. Yes, I like my shows, but I could live without them.

Anyway, today we're dealing with the fiasco known as getting DSL installed. Getting the Dish installed was a 6 hour nightmare that involved having multiple people running through my house and being the lucky people for whom it wasn't a simple set up. VOIP did not involve multiple people, but it has involved a lot of money up front, (but so has Dish and DSL), but it's just been a pain connecting everything.

On top of that, our furnace has been acting up for over a month now. It'll work for a few days, then decide to quit. Hubby will tinker with it, then it will work, then it will randomly stop. Today it is not working. So I'm in my office with a blanket and space heater and very grumpy about my cold house. I keep asking to get someone in to look at it, but he is confident he can fix it, which leaves me... um, cold.

But wait... I'm not done with my reasons for being grumpy. Hubby, in his infinite man-mind, has decided to move all of our computer, modem, phone, whatever, stuff, into our furnace room. So we have a communication hub. Which means that he has taken everything out of that storage room and scattered it all over the basement. I cannot walk the ten feet between the stairs and my office door without putting my life in danger from the man junk scattered throughout. And kid junk, because hubby shifted their play area, and now they can't get to the area where they need to put away their stuff. So it's all piling up.

Much of the blame I lay at hubby's feet because he's the one who turned this all into a giant nightmare project. Which is probably not fair, but hey, who said being married is about being fair?

Hopefully, I haven't lost you yet... because I actually do have a positive point besides unloading all of my frustrations.

Yesterday, I was out shopping with my grandma, and I saw a plaque that said something to the effect of, "Thank you Lord for the dirty dishes because it means we have food to eat."

And it occurred to me, as I was preparing what I thought was the mother of all telling my hubby exactly what I thought of the fact that my world has been upside down for the month (longer, if you count the furnace), that all of these problems are like the dirty dishes plaque.

How many people can't afford cable or dish? How many people in the world even have TV? Thank you, Lord, for our ability to have TV and all the extras (even ones I don't think I want).

How many people can't afford DSL? Or the super high speed hubby is getting so that my job will be easier. Or wow, my ability to work from home instead of going to an office every day. Thank you, Lord, for DSL, and high speed internet.

What about the phone? Another convenience we take for granted. Something else that we can afford- a land line, and three cell phones. (One is hubby's work phone, provided by work). But again, what a blessing that not everyone has, but sure makes our lives easier. Thank you Lord, for providing us with ease of communication and the means to do so.

Let's talk furnace... so yes, it's been in the 50s in my house. Outside, it's in the 20s. Where would you rather be? Even with a broken furnace, how many people in the world DON'T have heat? How many people can't just pile on the blankets and crank up the space heaters? Thank you, Lord, for giving my the privilege of being warm and comfortable even when I don't appreciate it.

But let's also discuss the person I am cranky at for not doing all of this the way I want it done and inconveniencing me. Yes, I am talking about The Man. I have to acknowledge that he didn't wake up and say, "let me mess up things for my wife today." In fact, he was thinking that he wanted to get on board with my saving money plan and do his part. He thought he could fix the furnace himself and save us from paying for a service call. He thought that once we get through this service transition, that we will be paying less for more. I know, from talking to some of my other married friends, that not all spouses would get on board and go to that effort. Not all spouses can repair broken things in the house. Thank you, Lord, for a husband who is on board with my money saving plan. Thank you for a husband who can fix things around the house. Thank you for a husband who provides enough for the family so that we can have all of these wonderful things. And thank you, Lord, for a husband. I'm probably not thankful enough for him, especially when so many out there don't have spouses, or spouses they can count on as much as I count on mine.

I'm going to try to remember that in the times of being grumpy, that I still have many blessings I can be thankful for. What dirty dishes are you thankful for?

Simplifying the writing

2012-01-12T00:00:00.001-07:00

Um, well, okay, there really isn't anything to simplify writing-wise, but since it's my theme for the year, I'd be remiss if I didn't at least talk about my writing goals and figure out some way to fit it in. I haven't talked a lot about my writing lately, mostly because I don't have a lot to talk about. I'm plugging along, and that's that. My agent has a couple of books he's shopping, so we'll see.

I had the goal of submitting the book I'm working on by the end of last year. Well, I got sick and with the holidays and some year-end stuff, it didn't happen. I did finish it, and now I'm working on polishing and getting it in top shape.

My mistake last year was not setting writing goals. I was so overwhelmed with life that I honestly didn't think about it. I just wrote when I could, and more often than not, ended up putting it aside because I couldn't deal. Yes, I know, not something you want to say publicly, except for this...

My simplify my life plan gives me the room to write.

I've spent the past few years putting the "urgent" first, and letting the mess suck out my writing time. But writing is what I love. So according to all of the success books out there, shouldn't writing be first? Which is my commitment this year. I am writing. I am writing every day. And I will be submitting.

My first writing goal is to submit the book I'm working on by the end of the month. Then, I have a couple of other books I'd like to finish and submit, but part of it will depend on what happens with what my agent has out. So I've loosely committed to those, but am willing to change. Last year, I finished three books (one only semi-counts, because I had mostly finished it the year before). This year, I'd like to do four. I think one per quarter is do-able.

Have you set your writing goals?

Simplifying the health plan

2012-01-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

When I talk about simplifying, that includes my health and exercise. A few years ago, I decided to get serious about the doctor's lectures on losing weight. I followed recommended diets from healthcare providers, I've tried exercising. And guess what? None of it worked. I weigh more now than ever. During all this time, I've had friends tell me that I looked fine and didn't need to lose weight. So who do you believe?

Earlier this fall, I had an epiphany about my weight. I was on a nasty diet (that didn't work) and eating things that made me miserable. I laid it on the line with God, and told him that if this was how I had to live the rest of my life, then I didn't want to. To which God responded by asking me if I could love my body, no matter what size it is.

I decided to take that challenge.

The other day, I got out of the shower and was doing my usual post-shower stuff, and I caught a glimpse of myself naked in the mirror. But instead of just passing by, I stopped. And really looked at myself, naked. And you know what? I'm not model gorgeous with a perfectly toned tummy. But I look pretty damn good. I've got curves and lumps and bumps and stretch marks and scars, but my husband thinks I'm still hot.

I can remember looking up at the mountains and being in absolute awe of how God shaped the rocks, dotting them with little things to make them unique and beautiful. He did the same thing with our bodies. He put birthmarks and little spots and perfect details that make me uniquely me. And I believe He declared it just as beautiful as we declare the mountains.

It is this lesson that I take with me in simplifying my health. Putting food in my body is going to have me asking the same questions I ask of spending my money. What need is this fulfilling?

Which leads to the tougher question of exercise. I hate it. I can't stay motivated to do it. But I know I need to be more active. So instead of saying that I'm going to exercise more, I'm setting a goal to do something I've always wanted to do. I've always wanted to climb a mountain. My BFF and I have talked about doing it for years. This year, we're going to do it. At our next tea date, we're setting the date, and I'll be spending the months leading up to it getting in shape. That to me has more power, motivation, and importance than just going to the gym to get exercise.

Right now, this all sounds a lot easier said than done. To be honest, that's part of why I'm blogging about it. Because I hope that when I make disparaging comments about my appearance, one of my friends will smack me upside the head and remind me of what God showed me about my true beauty. I hope people will ask me about climbing the mountain and remind me that it's not going to happen sitting on my butt every day.

My goal isn't about being the perfect image of what the world thinks is attractive. I'm attractive to my husband, I'm attractive to my God, and moving forward, I simply want to take care of what I have, improve upon what I can, and in the end, accept myself for what I am.

Reading goals

2012-01-10T00:59:00.000-07:00

I know... lots of goals to start off my year. But I think reading is a priority that I've let slip in my life. I love to read, but I'm embarrassed to say that I read less than I've ever read. I turn down reviews because I know I won't have time for them, and I hate that. I love reading new books. I don't even read the books I love to read because it seems like there's too many other things to do.

So this year, I'm making reading a priority again. Rather than just saying it, I'm making reading a measurable goal.

Here are my reading goals for the year:

1. Read one current book from each Love Inspired line each month.
I know, this sounds silly, since I work with them, but I am really bad about pacing myself. When my shipment comes, I tend to gorge on the LIHs, then I get busy and forget to read the others. Or, I'll decide to clean, then move them where I can't find them. THEN, I'll feel guilty for not reading the others, and I have a horrible backlog, so I do a catch-up gorge, and then don't read the LIHs. All this to say, that I end up reading backlist books, and not the current ones. Ugh.

2. Read one nonfiction book each month. I love nonfiction, but I read those chapter by chapter. So, I'll read a few chapters of a book, then put it down, forget where I put it, and never finish the book. ICK.

3. Read one new to me author each month. I'm really terrible about not reading new authors... well, that is, I read the new LI authors, but none anywhere else. I think I need to expand my horizons a little.

Do you have reading goals?

Simplifying my money

2012-01-09T00:38:00.000-07:00

Now this is a hard one, and I'm going to be honest here... I'm still not done thinking this through or doing the work.

At the end of every year, I'm usually depressed because it seems like we've worked so hard, and have so little show for it financially. Over the past few months, I've read a lot of books and articles about money and finances, and the one thing that keeps bothering me is that our income is on the high end in comparison to what they're talking about. Don't get me wrong. We're not rich (by America's standards). But I look at our current lifestyle, and I realized that even though we make twice as much as we did when we first got married, we're pretty much living the same way. I remember thinking, "wow, if we could only make X amount of dollars, we'd be able to do all these things." I realized, as I was reading one of those finance things, that we DO make X amount of dollars. But we're no closer to those dreams than we were then.

Which led me back to thinking about simplifying. I know so many people who make more money than we do who also live similarly to us. Where does their money go? I've been observing, trying to figure it out, and I see all the piddly stuff they spend on. Which led me to thinking about all the piddly stuff I spend on.

And of course, as I look back at my stuff simplify plan, I realize that I really don't need to spend a lot of the money I spend money on.

I also realized that I don't have a plan for both my spending and my goals. This year, I set a goal of paying off some of our debt, saving a certain amount of money, and paying for our family to go on vacation. I told hubby about my goals, and he looked at me funny. I know what he was thinking. Each year, we say that we're going to reduce debt, save money, and maybe go on vacation, but we never quantify it. And, frankly, we never do anything about it. So he looked at me and asked if I had a plan.

Well, I do have a plan. Sort of. Here's what it looks like so far.

Just to make the math easier, let's pretend that I want to have an extra $2400 in savings by the end of the year, reduce our debt by $2400, and our vacation will cost $1200. Well, that gives me a starting off point for how I'm going to get there.

I'll need $200 each month to put in savings, $200 each month to go toward debt, and $100 each month to go toward our vacation. Wow, that's $500! I don't know about you, but I know I don't have an extra $500!

Okay, so how do I find that money? For starters, we are ditching Comcast and going with other providers for cable, internet, and phone. Based on what hubby has found, we'll be paying about $75 less than what we were paying.

So, $425 to go. We eat out about twice a week. I know, terrible! But we're so busy with activities that it's hard to plan meals. If I put something in the crockpot for grab and go for one of those nights, that saves us about $30 a week. So, another $120 savings.

Now I'm down to $305 needed. We have gym memberships that we really don't use as much as we should. Hubby never goes, and I don't go enough to make it worth the money. Cancel that, and we have another $50 in savings. I switched web hosts, saving me $15 a month. We're down to needing an extra $230 a month.

Which leads me to the question I've been asking about everything I buy lately... Do I really NEED this?

Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I honestly think that if I apply that question to everything I buy (including stuff at the grocery store), I think I can come close to saving that $230. In fact, if I compare that item, even if it's only a cup of Starbucks (which I very rarely do), to do I want that item or do I want to go on vacation, I think I'll be putting away a lot more things. If I don't buy my daughter the cute dress I saw on sale because I think she'll love it, not only will it be one less thing cluttering up her room, but it'll be that much more money going toward my vacation.

And, with the time I'm saving by not overextending myself, I can sit down more often to do things like work on our budget, track our spending, and *gasp* pay better attention to when bills are due. Because that's another place where I can save money. I spend about $50 a month on late fees. Not because I don't have the money or things are tight, but because I forget to pay the bill on time. I can't tell you how many times I've paid a late fee for being one day late.

This year, instead of just reading finance books and thinking it's a good idea, I'm actually going to put some of those principles into practice.

That's the start of my plan. Have you thought about what you'd like to do to improve your finances this year?

Simplifying my time

2012-01-06T00:19:00.000-07:00

As the Queen of Overcommitment, I've finally hit a place in my life where I can accept that I do too much. I'm one of those people that when others look at my life, they say, "wow, I don't know how you do it."

Now you know why I've battled adrenal fatigue and the corresponding health issues.

For a long time, I've justified my time spent on so many activities in a variety of ways. But an email from someone supervising one of my volunteer positions really convicted me of all the time I spend doing stuff. She was basically praising me for my job, and encouraging me because I'm so visible and people really see and respect it, etc. All good things. But for some reason, I took a step back and thought, wait a second. Is this really what I want? Don't get me wrong, it was doing a good thing, and it was something I enjoy. There's nothing wrong with doing that job. Except there are a lot of other things that are important to me. A lot of other things I put off because I don't have the time.

And then I thought about all the things I'm doing to simplify elsewhere, and I realized that one of the greatest areas I need to simplify is my time. Part of it is because of some challenges we're having with my little one (and I really do intend to blog and share... eventually). Because we're doing some intensive work with her, I was told that I need to do more to make time for me. A suggestion I initially laughed at, but you know what? In all of this, I finally realized that I AM VALUABLE ENOUGH TO ALLOW MY TIME TO BE SPENT ON ME. Yes, I am shouting!! Because I think a lot of people I know (and read my blog) need to tell themselves the same thing.

We spend time on a lot of things we say are valuable. But we need to also recognize that we, our individual selves, are JUST AS VALUABLE.

I have decided, for 2012, that I will absolutely not have any commitments to long term volunteer obligations. I have resigned from every single volunteer position I have. Except one, but my term ends in February, so that's not a big deal. Instead, I am spending the time evaluating my time. Can I help out at the school bake sale? Certainly, but that decision will only come after I've had time to evaluate it in relation to the time I have available and whether or not it fits in with my greater priorities.

I've heard it said in church that the need isn't necessarily the call. Unfortunately, I've often fallen victim to the plea of "but you're the only person who can do it." Or, "Please! We need you." That gets me every time. But my family needs me, my husband needs me, my God needs me, and, because I am important too, I need me. I've let the incessant whine of all these other things that need to get done interfere with getting done the things that matter to me. I'm not saying that those things aren't important. But they are getting in the way of the bigger picture.

Maybe this sounds crazy, or maybe this sounds like your life. But I'm so bogged down in all the other junk of life, that I've really lost sight of the things that matter to me. I do a lot of things without really knowing why I do them. So until I figure out what matters (beyond God, family, and me), I'm simply not doing it. As hard as it is for me to do, I'm going to say no unless I have a good reason to say yes.

What are you doing to create room in your time for you?

Simplifying my stuff

2012-01-05T00:04:00.003-07:00

Yesterday I talked about how our family has so much stuff. I'd prove it by taking a picture of my garage, but frankly, I'm too embarrassed.

I think it occurred to me that we have too much stuff when I helped my daughter clean her room and she couldn't get everything in her drawers. Her room was a disaster because I caught up on laundry and she had no place to put anything. My friend only lets her kids have 14 outfits each. At first, I thought it was horrible, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to me. That leaves the kids plenty of variety, and it's not overwhelming. I haven't convinced my kids to get on board with this yet, but we're working towards it.

I asked the kids to go through their rooms and put everything they didn't want anymore in a box for charity. And okay, I bribed them. For every 30 items, they get $5. So far, we're up to somewhere around 200 items. I think I should have gone with my gut and said every 50 items. Yikes! I'm going to be broke.

As I sorted through their discards, I counted somewhere around 20 toy horses. And that's just what they got rid of! Trust me, they have plenty more. (Before you think I spent tons of money on them, let me be clear and say I buy 95% of their things secondhand!) Still, though, that's money I spent. Each time, I was excited to find something my kids would love.

I'm learning, especially as I see just how MANY things my kids have, that it's really not a question of what they'll love... there's a lot of things they want, and almost nothing they NEED. My 7yo wants almost every toy in the toy department. She'd love most of them. But what am I giving them by giving them that toy? Especially when she's already overwhelmed by the mess of things she already has.

So now, before I take out my wallet to get my kids something new, I ask myself, what need does this item meet? I'm amazed at how easy it is to put the item back and move on.

Yesterday, I got rid of five pairs of shoes. One pair is really cute, but pinches my feet, and I hate wearing them. So why keep them? I'm giving them away, and someone better suited for those shoes can enjoy them. The others? Old tennis shoes I've kept around for when I need yucky shoes instead of my day to day shoes. One pair is a good idea, but FOUR?? I threw the others in the trash. Now all of my shoes fit in my closet.

I got rid of the pants I hope to wear again someday. If I'm ever that thin again, I think I deserve to celebrate by buying new ones! Ditto for the tight shirts, and every other outfit that no longer fits.

We still have a lot of junk we don't need. But as we continue this year and into the future, I am trying to look at everything I have with an eye as to what need that item meets. It's okay to have some things because you love them. But when I look at the things in my house, I don't want it (or my life) to be cluttered with things that don't add value to my family.

Do you have a plan for getting rid of the junk in your life?

Simplifying in the new year

2012-01-04T00:03:00.000-07:00

Well, I'd hoped to kick off the new year with a new blog, but I spent almost the entire month of December with one virus or another, so it's not quite ready yet. I'm hoping, though, that it will be soon, and worth the wait!

In the meantime, I'm here!

And, over the holidays, really, before the holiday, I've been thinking a lot about my focus for the coming year. For me, it's all about simplifying. My pre-holiday rant along with some of the things I've been reading over the past few months has me very convicted over how complicated and full my life is. My daughter can't keep her room clean because she has so many clothes that they don't all fit in her drawers. Which led me to asking myself, does she NEED that many clothes? A friend of mine mentioned that her children are only allowed 14 outfits each. Wow... When she first said that, I thought that there was no way I could get my kids to do that. And now, as I fight to get my kid to clean her room, I think maybe it wasn't so crazy after all. Which is why I'm working really hard to have all of us reduce the amount of STUFF we have in our home.

Then, there is my schedule and my commitments. Since I was in high school, probably even earlier, I have been the Queen of Overcommitment. And with everything going on in my life that I have no control over, I realized that it's time to say, "Enough." So I've been evaluating those... and cutting.

And what about our money? Again, I can't help but think of how all this extra stuff we have... we spent money on. I keep thinking about all of our financial goals and how they seem so far off, but what if I just didn't spend money on junk we don't need? Could the important things be more of a reality if I simplified?

So that's my plan for the year. Over the next few days, I'll talk more in detail about them, but that's the gist of where I'm heading this year, and into the future.

We wish you a Merry... what the heck is happening this month?

2011-12-08T19:03:00.001-07:00

I am not in the Christmas spirit this year. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total Grinch, and I'm not being a hater. But I'm just tired of all this fake cheer garbage. Someone I know on Facebook posted this long message about not being afraid to celebrate that Christmas is all about Christ's birth. Which, yes, it is, and I think it's wonderful that she would say so. But I also know that she gets into debt every year, spending way too much on presents her kids don't need. And, as much as I don't want to sound judgmental, she spends a great deal of time griping about Christians, and based on conversations I've had with her, has absolutely no relationship with Christ. So yeah, I guess it's nice to see her paying Christ lip service, but let's call a spade a spade. For her, Christmas is not about Christ's birth.

And if we're really honest with ourselves, and each other, how much time do we really spend each Christmas season focusing on Christ? Is it when we're rushing from holiday party to holiday party? Or maybe it's when we're yelling at our spouses trying to get the house cleaned for company. Is Jesus at the front of our minds when we're standing in a long checkout line with our carts loaded with presents? Don't get me wrong, I know a lot of people with great relationships with Christ who celebrate the season. But I just see a lot more lip service about the meaning of Christmas when our actions say otherwise. Which leads me to being weary of the whole thing. I don't want to celebrate Christmas, the holiday everyone is raving about. I feel like the little girl in the Grinch movie, just wanting to get back to what the holiday truly means.

So this year, I'm pulling back. Our family is participating in the Advent conspiracy, and we're doing less. I'm trying to think more about making this a meaningful time of year as opposed to filling it with stuff. I'd rather be filled with Jesus.

Where are you at with all the merrymaking of the season?

F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire written and illustrated by M. C. Pearson

2011-12-05T15:03:00.001-07:00

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author & illustrator is:

M. C. Pearson

and the book:

F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire

FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)

***Special thanks to M. C. Pearson of FIRST Wild Card Press for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

M. C. Pearson graduated from San Jose State University with a B. A. in art, served as a multi-media illustrator in the United States Army, earning the rank of sergeant, and spent four years as a house parent for at-risk youth. Now married over 20 years, she homeschools her two children, volunteers with her church youth group, and runs a book review blog alliance (FIRST Wild Card Tours) while writing and drawing. F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire is her first novel.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Unwittingly chosen to join an army of fairies, who fight for the Light of the One, a teenaged girl learns about spiritual warfare as she attends a military academy with fantastical beings.

FROM THE BACK COVER:

Here lies a most precious treasure,

Awaiting one Chosen to deliver.

Seek out the red cousins in the East,

For on this your greed mustn't feast.

The wealth of a species now in your hands,

Do with it as the light demands.

Give them your gift to unite,

For it is the darkness we all must fight.

MY REVIEW:
Very much an enjoyable read. I keep thinking that this is a great story my 11yo and her friends would love, but that means I have to give up my death grip on my e-reader. :) I had a hard time getting into the story at first, but as I continued reading, I realized that this book reminds me a lot of Madeleine L'Engle's work, and I loved that level of fantasy as a child. I'm excited to pass on this book to my children, and I might even have to let them use my precious e-reader. This is definitely an appealing storyline for any parent who is looking for something wholesome to read in an age when there are a lot of questionable fantasy novels out there.

EDITORIAL REVIEWS:

"Imagination runs wild in F.A.I.R.I.E.S. Pearson brings young readers through a looking glass and into a world bursting with adventure, heroism, and fascinating creatures. Readers will be inspired to be true to the One and left with anticipation of more to come."
--Jill Williamson, award-winning author of
By Darkness Hid, and other books

"Sprinkled with delightful illustrations, and brimming with a full bestiary of magical creatures, F.A.I.R.I.E.S. is a fun, clever romp through the alternate landscape of the most magical world of all, our own. Read, and take up the call: 'Defend and Emancipate!'"
-- D. Barkley Briggs, author of
The Book of Names, and other books

"F.A.I.R.I.E.S. will appeal to readers who love the interplay of fantasy and reality. A rich cast of eccentric characters and exotic settings make this a fun addition to the folklore of the battle between good and evil."
--Mike Hamel, author of
YA fantasy series: MATTERHORN THE BRAVE

"F.A.I.R.I.E.S. is one of those rare gems I want to tell everyone about. It's highly imaginative, packed with adventure, and full of hope. A must read for kids and for kids at heart. Even better than Narnia! I was thinking about Pearson's wonderfully memorable characters for days."
--C.J. Darlington, author of
Thicker than Blood

"Ms. Pearson's extravagant and imaginative F.A.I.R.I.E. kingdom will surely delight the young and the young-at-heart in this tale of good and evil, light vs. darkness. The fantasy-loving reader will not be disappointed!"
--Linore Rose Burkard, award winning author of
Before the Season Ends, and other books

Product Details:

List Price: $17.99
Paperback: 482 pages
Publisher: FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0615530222
ISBN-13: 978-0615530222

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Four thousand seasons shall pass while our swords grow rusty.

Where once one chose to divide, another shall be chosen to unite.

One changed the past, the other shall change the future.

One must emancipate the other to allow the light its dominion.

The realm, now torn, allows the shadow to abide, as humanity lies blind to its peril.

The bond of friendship must endure, for the army of shadows awaits another tear.

Dust off your swords.

Unite the realm.

Destroy the strongholds.

Foretelling of Didasko Gnome Digdeep

†

PART ONE

MANY ARE CALLED

BUT

FEW ARE CHOSEN

†

CHAPTER ONE

Off and Running

t was an accident!” Mellie yelled, not caring who heard or stared. Tears streaked her face as she fled down the Santa Cruz coastline, away from her family.

You don’t need them, a voice hissed in her ear, Escape. Run away.

Scorching sand burned at her feet and bitterness ate at her heart. Mellie pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her feet pounded with the rhythm of her emotions, beating a tempo with the crashing waves. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, quickening her step.

Why did I have to be the youngest? Only 12 years old. Never smart enough. Never athletic enough. I just wish they loved me.

Once, just once, she wanted to do something that would make her sisters see that she wasn’t the stupid, awkward, ugly, little baby sister.

As she ran, she wiped away some tears with the palm of her hand. Her fingers settled on her large nose, a gift from her dad’s Hungarian ancestry.

Chelsea got the ski-slope shaped nose. I had to get Half-Dome. It just isn’t fair.

Her hand dropped to her side and she pinched at her stomach. It still had some of its baby fat.

Ugh, why are my sisters so perfect? What happened to me?

Pushing her short bangs from her forehead in disgust, she mumbled, “Maybe I’ll find treasure. I’ll be the rich one, and then they’ll have to accept me.” But she knew better. California didn’t hold any more undiscovered treasures.

The sand, hot and coarse, cut at her feet. I wish I had remembered my shoes. She wore only a black, one-piece swimsuit and a San Jose Sharks sweatshirt tied tightly around her waist.

Breathing rapidly, she began to tire. She slowed her pace to a walk and looked back across the beach. The sand was so hot that waves of heat rose from it and blurred her view. A lone seagull screeched overhead.

Her sisters were nowhere in sight.

Man, I thought for sure that Chelsea was going to chase me down and kill me.

She had to admit that it was a little gratifying to see the sand fly from her foot, covering Chelsea’s sub-sandwich and freshly oiled stomach. Grinning slightly, the tears stopped flowing. She rubbed her eyes.

Mellie looked in the direction of her sisters. “You guys can never take a joke.” Flipping her golden hair, she turned her head back toward her chosen path. She no longer smiled as she stomped her feet in the cold surf, remembering the hateful words that had been said.

“Oh, waa waa, you stupid cry baby! Go tell mommy! Maybe she’ll feel sorry for her ugly, fat baby. Why don’t you grow up? We don’t want you near us. Can’t you understand English? You are so dumb. Look at her mouth open. Oh wait, here she goes…come on, baby…cry!”

Mellie knew she couldn’t go back. They would only ridicule and torment her further. Her mom would never believe it was Chelsea’s fault. No, the evidence was on Chelsea’s side. Who was the one with the sand all over her oily, coconut-smelling body? Who was the one who had a sandwich full of sand? Mellie walked on.

After her temper finally cooled, it occurred to her that she had never walked so far alone.

How far have I gone?

A shadow passed over her, and she looked up. Nothing was there. A cool breeze from the ocean created a stark contrast to the scalding sand. She shivered but kept walking, lost in her loneliness.

Not until she stubbed her toe on a large broken clamshell did she look at the beach. A chill snaked up her back. Nothing appeared familiar. The sounds of the surf were still there, yet something was decidedly different. She felt dizzy. Looking around, she could not quite pinpoint the change. Then it struck her.

No people.

Where did everybody go?

Even though she could see no one, Mellie could swear that she felt eyes staring at her.

She looked inland across the sand, saw movement near some eucalyptus trees, but decided that the wind must have caused it.

Trees? So close to the beach?

Something shook the trees again, causing goosebumps to stand out on Mellie’s arms. Alarmed, she checked the skyline. The sun was close to setting. She hoped that the police weren’t out looking for her.

Suddenly cold, she pulled at the arms of the sweatshirt still tied around her waist. It fell to the sand. Bending to pick it up, she once again saw a blur of movement, except this time it came from a rocky outcrop by the waves. She shook the sand out of the sweatshirt and hurriedly tugged it over her head.

“Okay, I’m seeing things.” Mellie yanked at her hair, pulling it out of the sweatshirt. She stared at the sinister rocks. “Hel-lo?” Her voice cracked as she spoke louder. “Is someone the-ere? Hello?” No answer. The shadowy rocks seemed to quiver with excitement, beckoning her closer.

Hmm…probably just a seagull.

Even if it was a bird, she did not want to see it.

There’s no way I’m going over there.

The wind picked up and blew her hair into her eyes. The sand spun with the wind.

Yes, definitely time to move. I need to find a road.

She turned back toward the sweet smelling, oddly placed trees.

Mellie arrived at the base of the first, colossal eucalyptus tree. Without warning, one of the branches fell in front of her, then seemed to get up from the ground and pose its bottom stems in a military-like stance.

Mellie screamed and jumped back. “Branches don’t stand.”

“They do if they are walking sticks.” The eucalyptus branch chuckled, stretching to its full height, considerably taller than Mellie’s meager five feet.
She gasped, grabbed the branch, and threw it like a javelin, as hard as she could.

As she took off running, she heard a bark and halted. Turning, she saw a golden retriever bounding toward her with the stick in his mouth. The dog dropped it at her feet. She watched the dog run into the grove of trees and disappear before she fearfully turned back to the possessed stick.

It had already gained its footing again and stood over her. Mellie was too frightened to move this time.

A face emerged from the skinny twig and took on the characteristics of a male human, but none like Mellie had ever seen. He had hair made up in rolls as if it were a powdered, green-silver wig, the same color as the leaves that grew all around his skinny body. His face was long and his forehead high. The twiggy man smiled and said in a distinctly British, albeit breezy, accent, “Do not worry, you are safe.”

Mellie couldn’t answer.

“Ahh…I love new recruits. They are so easily addled.”

Feeling more confused than threatened, Mellie found her voice. “What? What do you mean, new recruits?” She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. “Okay, I’m talking to a stick now. Yes, I have lost it. I have gone totally mental.”

“Oh, I say, am I to understand that I am the first to be revealed to you?” With round, leathery leaves, the branch resembled a toddler toy with rings stacked on one another.

She dropped open her mouth and nodded.

“Well, let me do this properly, then. Ahem. Mortal, made of clay, you have been Chosen to join the Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads.”

“What? What are you? You look like a stick…but you can talk.”

“Yes, child,” the stick replied with a sigh. “But, I think we are quite past that by now. Have you not heard me? You have been Chosen.”

Mellie opened her mouth wider, closed it, frowned, and opened it once more. “Chosen? For what?”

“You did wish to be different? To change who you were? ’Twas an especially strong desire, yes?” The branch crossed its arms and tapped its twiggy foot.

“Umm…”

“Dear me, this is highly unusual. You made a choice to run away from a miserable life and asked to be set free? Correct?”

“Well, I, ah…yeah. I guess so. What did you say about recruit for some squad?”

“Humph. I see that I was not understood. Yes? Let me elucidate. The Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads , or shall I say F.A.I.R.I.E.S.? have accepted you into their organization. You asked. You were answered.” The branch attempted a smile, but looked impatient instead.

“Fairies? I don’t believe in fairies.” Mellie winced, half expecting him to fall down and writhe in pain until she clapped her hands.

“Quite right. You are not supposed to. If humans truly believed we existed, we would never get anything accomplished.”

Mellie laughed and looked around for a hidden camera, thinking this must be a joke. “Right. Ah…heh…okay, bud, brilliant costume,” she said, imitating the branch’s accent. “Where’s the zipper?” She reached toward him and touched a soft leaf.

The branch slapped her hand away and stamped its foot with a loud cracking noise. “I beg your pardon. I have not been a bud for over 800 springs!” He paced, his leaves crumpling, mumbling to himself about humans and why, in the One’s name, did he listen to that confounded gnome who told him that he needed to stand gate duty. With his rank!

“I’m sorry I upset you. Please, I’m very confused. I’m lost, and I just want to go home.” Mellie bit her lip.

The branch stopped mid-pace. “Home? Earlier, did you not wish for a new life? And riches? I know you wished for treasure, hmm?”

“How do you know that?” Mellie furrowed her brow. “Have you been reading my mind?”

The twig man didn’t answer her questions, asking his own instead. “Ahh, so, you admit this, yes?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, but…well, this really isn’t what I had in mind.”

The branch threw up its twiggy fingers. “Oh, well, of course you did not have this in mind. After all, we are reasonably inconspicuous, especially to humans. How could you have this in mind? However, is it not superior of the One to think that this is what you would have chosen had you known about us? Anyway, ’tis irrevocable now. So, if you would just follow me, we shall get you signed in and enrolled for training.”

The branch marched off between the trunks of two large eucalyptus trees.

Mellie slid uncontrollably after the walking stick. She planted her feet firmly, refusing to budge, but she slid after him anyway. Grasping at branches of nearby trees, she panted heavily as she struggled to resist following the branch. Some kind of invisible tie connected her to him. He seemed to pull her along with his every step.

Mellie thought about her sisters and how mad they were at her. I’m dead meat if they find me. Mellie quickly gave up her battle and ran after the eucalyptus branch, barely keeping up with his stride.

†

The sand changed to coarse dirt, with pebbles and sticks. More and more trees filled Mellie’s vision. Bushes scraped against her bare legs and slapped her face as she moved deeper inside a forest of eucalyptus and redwood trees. She winced in pain as a razor-sharp rock sliced her foot. Stopping to nurse it, she wished once again for her forgotten shoes.

“Excuse me, sir?” Mellie looked around. She could not see the branch anywhere.

“Do not call me ‘sir’, I work for a living.” The branch peeked out from around one of the gigantic trees. “And please, try to keep up. We need to reach the gateway.”

Mellie limped up to him. “Sorry, sir…I mean…umm, what should I call you then?”

“Oh, well, we did skip that. Did we not? Yes, all right, an introduction then.” The branch man seemed to enjoy formal etiquette for he gave an elaborate wave and bowed. “My name is Regnans, family of Myrtaceae, born member of the F.A.I.R.I.E.S., Britannia Wing, rank of Master Nymph Dryad.”

“Nice to meet you, Reg…Reg?” Mellie chewed on the inside of her mouth. Never good at remembering names, she knew she would offend him with her lack of manners.

Sure enough, the dryad raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “Regnans.” He gave a hurt sniff, then drolly sneered. “If you find that a difficult name, you should meet the rest of my family, all seven-hundred thirty-four of them.”

“Sorry, I just…well, it is a lot to remember. It’s a nice name, though. My name is Maryellen Goodwin of Bret Harte Middle School, San Jose, California. But everyone calls me Mellie.” She stuck out her hand, intending to shake. Regnans stared at her.

“That is a strange curtsy. However, I guess ’twill do. We must get moving now. The shadows abound, you know.” Regnans made an about face and marched off faster than before.

Another hour passed, and still they strode along the forest floor. Mellie’s feet were now cut, blistered, and bleeding. She kept up as best she could with Regnans’s long stride. Whenever she tried to stop, he would pull her on with that invisible force of his.

Stupid, pompous, magical Star Wars freak.

She whimpered as she limped. Darkness and mist now covered the woods. As she was about to plead for a break, Regnans stopped. Except for her heavy gulps of air, all seemed quiet.

Regnans stiffened even more than usual. Nothing on him moved, apart from his eyes, which darted around quickly.

“All is safe, we may proceed.” He held up a twiggy finger to his woody mouth. “Please do not speak, and try not to breathe so abominably loud.”

Mellie nodded with a disgusted frown. Sweat dripped from her bangs. She tried to calm her breathing, even though her vision blurred, and her legs wobbled. Her blisters had popped by now and oozed wetness.

Regnans moved again, yet this time he took slow, deliberate steps, all the while scanning his surroundings. He walked up to a massive redwood tree and stroked its bark.

A breeze stirred up, rattling the leaves, sounding almost like spoken words. Mellie thought herself crazy again. However, the longer she stood there, the more she sensed that it really was the tree’s language, as if she had never listened to trees properly before. It said, “If you love, you will say the one true love that leads the way.”

Regnans whispered in a leaf rustling voice, “Ah-gaw-pay.”

A loud grumbling sound, as if someone awakened after a long sleep, shook the grove. The redwood tree opened two eyes, each the size of Mellie’s head, and blinked. A great fissure erupted below the eyes in the shape of a crescent, and redish-brown wooden teeth emerged. A long, knobby branch pushed its way out above the mouth and inhaled deeply.

The tree chuckled. Instead of the whispering leaves, a low, rumbling utterance of human speech came from the redwood tree. “Regnans? What brings you to my neck of the woods?” He blinked again. “And who is this? A new recruit? A human? A Chosen?”

Mellie knew she looked silly, standing there with her mouth in an ‘O’ shape, but she couldn’t move. This was simply impossible. There is no such thing as fairies!

“Yes, yes. Please open the gate, we must not dawdle here…they may be watching.” Regnans looked agitated.

A deep laugh resounded from the redwood. “Oh, Regnans. There are none who watch here.”

Regnans mumbled something about hamadryads and their pride, then proclaimed in a slightly louder voice to the tree, “We must be sober, be vigilant, because the shadow walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom it may devour.”

The hamadryad looked chagrined. “You speak true, dryad. Forgive me for acting like an arrogant seedling.” He glanced at Mellie, and with a lowered voice asked, “And what is your name, little human?”

Mellie managed to squeak out, “Mellie Goodwin.”

“Ah, ’tis always nice to have a Good Wind.” The hamadryad laughed heartily.

“Sorry to interrupt this lovely tete-a-tete,” Regnans said, “but would you please open the gate? I left Westside completely unguarded.”

An annoyed creak came from the base of the redwood, followed by a sigh. “Yes, Regnans. Agape you said, and agape it is. Go with the light, my friends.” The large, joyous eyes closed, and the hamadryad whispered in his leaf rustling voice, “Until we meet again, Good Wind.” His face disappeared, and his roots lifted and pulled apart, exposing a tunnel within his trunk.

Regnans grabbed Mellie’s hand with his rough, wooden one, and pulled her inside the opening. The tree closed itself abruptly and left them in total darkness.

Regnans cleared his throat and said, “Let there be light.”

A burst of dazzling brightness sparkled from the tunnel’s wall. Mellie glanced around and noticed a long, winding stairwell leading down into the ground.

“Shall we, then?” Not waiting for a reply, Regnans started down the steps.

Available at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com.

Truth and Dare Devotional by Ann-Margret Hovsepian

2011-11-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Ann-Margret Hovsepian

and the book:

Truth and Dare Devotional

David C. Cook (October 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Ann Margret Hovsepian is a published author, freelance writer and editor and amateur artist. She has published more than 210 articles for dozens of Canadian and U.S. print periodicals and has become a sought-after author of pre-teen girls’ devotional books. She has published Blossom: The Complete New Testament for Girls (Thomas Nelson, 2006) and The One Year Designer Genes Devo (Tyndale, 2007). She speaks at conferences and events and is actively involved on the board of Canadian Baptist Women of Ontario and Quebec, Canada. Hovsepian resides in Montreal, Canada.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Is your pre-teen daughter ready for more—more excitement, more adventure, more joy? Then dare her to discover the secret to a life that sparkles for God. Show her she’s got what it takes to make an impact on the world. Ann Margret Hovsepian’s newest book, Truth and Dare: One Year of Dynamic Devotions for Girls, is designed for girls 9 to 12 and filled with powerful wisdom on everything from godly friendships to worshipping God.

It can be easy for young girls to neglect their Bible reading. Perhaps they feel Scripture doesn’t directly relate to them. Maybe they may lack encouragement or accountability, or they may just have too many distractions in their everyday lives. This lack of spiritual food can stunt girls’ spiritual growth and make them vulnerable to the temptations and ungodly influences around them. It can also prevent them from developing a love for Scripture early in life, making it even harder to get into God’s Word when they get older.

Truth and Dare encourages tween girls to discover how exciting God’s Word can be. They will see it make a difference in their daily lives and experience the blessings that come from doing it and not just hearing it. Daily challenges (dares) based on Scripture (truth) will provide opportunities for them to make their faith come alive as they learn to serve others, build character and make a difference.

Scripture will be transformed from something learned to something lived. Girls will delight in discovering how God’s Word can become real in whole new ways as they learn to apply it with each day’s dare. It ideally suits anyone looking to inspire a young girl to boldly live out her faith. So encourage the tween girl in your life to take the dare and discover the truth! It’s her time to shine as a girl who knows what it means to live a fierce and fearless life of faith.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Reading level: Ages 9 and up
Paperback: 432 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook (October 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434702081
ISBN-13: 978-1434702081

MY REVIEW:
I really think this is going to be a great tool for my 11 year old daughter, who is getting bored with church lessons that appeal more to little kids rather than kids of her age. She likes the Bible stories, but is ready to dig deeper. It's easy to read and understand, but not too simple. I'm excited for my daughter to experience these lessons. This is definitely not your same old devotional, but has a number of different activities that change day by day and provide something interesting to keep the kids engaged. I've been looking for a tool like this for a long time!

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER (To enlarge, click on the images):

For those who have ever wanted to bite their husband's head off...

2011-10-31T13:07:00.001-06:00

Oh, yes I did...

My fellow soccer moms and I cackled with glee when I noticed the opportunity.

Cute team picture cake!

Look at my sweet hubby

Come on, you know you want to!

GRRR!!!

Thanksgiving Thursday: Glitches

2011-10-27T22:48:00.000-06:00

The unexpected can be beautiful

Usually when we think of glitches, we get upset that our plan has somehow gone awry. At least I do. I do not like things not going as planned. I need everything to be predictable and just as I expected. Which we know seldom happens in life. I've learned to go with the flow, but I still get irritated if it's not the flow I planned on.

So today, I had mega work stuff to catch up on. After Tuesday's bee sting incident knocked me out and I've spent the past couple of days on antihistamines that make me a little wacky, I really needed today to work solid. HOWEVER, the site I use was messed up, my boss wasn't around, and everything I tried to do couldn't be completed because of a glitch on someone else's end. GRRRRRR After doing everything I know to make things work, and failing miserably, I realized that I could instead use my time for something else.

And so I chose to do something I haven't done in a while. I spent the whole afternoon writing. Ah, bliss! The opportunity for unscheduled writing that got me a little farther ahead in this book I've been trying to finish for ages. Rather than being frustrated about my inability to get my work done, I was able to enjoy the freedom of working on a story that I absolutely love and wish I had more time to spend on.

Instead of resenting the glitches that prevented me from working, I was able to be thankful and enjoy the blessing of an unexpected afternoon to write. Of course now, I'll be up late catching up on work since the site's back online. But I don't mind. I had such a lovely afternoon that it's worth it.

How do you respond to the glitches in your plans?

Not as bad as I thought

2011-10-26T13:47:00.002-06:00

Nothing to "bee" afraid of!

I have a confession to make. I am terrified of bees. Bee stings, to be exact. Which is strange, because I'd never been stung by a bee. But I have gone to ridiculous lengths to avoid getting stung. Including going to a plant expert to find out how to minimize getting stung in my garden.

Which was why, as I was walking through the Denver Botanic Gardens on a field trip with my little one, I was completely surprised by a very painful stinging sensation on my neck. Yep. I'd been stung by a bee. My first thought was, "God, please don't let me die in front of this group of second graders I'm chaperoning. They'll be traumatized for life." My second thought was, "hey, I don't think I'm dying." We walked to the main visitor's center, and the lovely lady at the desk told me what to look for (in case I was allergic), and then gave me some stuff to put on it.

No big deal, right? Which led me to walking through the gardens, marveling at the beauty, and thinking about the things we fear. I had "bee sting" so far up on my fear list that when it happened, it was no big deal. I think about all the things I've missed out on because I've been so terrified of getting stung. Incredible flowers not in my garden because they attract bees.

What a waste!

I will admit that later, I did have a little worse reaction to the sting, and I called my doctor, who assured me that I would be fine, and that because of where I was stung, my symptoms made sense. But I have been miserable. Mostly because I'm allergic to Benadryl, the one thing that would make it sooo much better. Even this inconvenience isn't nearly as bad as what I feared. In fact, it really has opened my eyes to thinking about all the other things I fear. Sure, being stung by a bee isn't something I want to repeat. But it's also not so bad that I can't go through it again. Which means I can live my life in new freedom.

What are your irrational fears? How have you faced them?

Tuesday Tea Time: How I have missed thee, my beloved

2011-10-24T22:29:00.002-06:00

A surprising find- yummy tea at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse

I've been on this icky horrible nasty diet for the past couple of weeks, and one of the things I haven't been allowed to have is tea. Yes, my beloved tea. It was a horrible two weeks. And, in the spirit of honesty, I should admit that I did have tea twice. Once was herbal, and I think it was okay, but I'm not 100%, so I'll count it as a cheat. The other time, well, I had a tea date and I couldn't pass up real tea.

The thing I love about my tea love is that I can enjoy tea pretty much anywhere I go. Now there are teas that I don't like and would prefer not to have. But I'll drink it. And I'm usually surprised at what I find. Some teas have seductive flavor names that make you think you're getting a real treat but end up being real stinkers. Other teas aren't cleverly named, or are from a mass producer like Lipton or Tazo, and end up being absolutely delicious.

For me, tea is something I love that I can have no matter where I go. It's a simple pleasure that never fails to bring a smile. So to give it up for two horrible weeks, well... I may someday recover from the trauma. I think the point of giving up the tea was to give up the caffeine, but that's actually not what I love about tea. I usually drink decaf. I just love the warm drink and how it warms me everywhere.

Someday, I'll write an ode to my beloved tea, but for now this blog post will have to do.

Do you have a favorite food or drink that never fails to make you happy? What would you do if deprived of it?

Loving the body God gave me

2011-10-21T11:36:00.000-06:00

Oh previous french fry, I will never forsake thee

I finally got sick and tired of my weight. I don't talk about it a lot because there are still a lot of people who think I'm just fine, and I love you for that. But the reality is that my doctor wants me to lose 30ish pounds, and he's probably right. And yes, I know, compared to a lot of other people needing to lose weight, it's not a lot.

But it's still hard.

So here I am, on this diet recommended by a health care professional, and I'm miserable. I hate it. I got to thinking the other day that there is no way I can eat like this for the rest of my life. I'd rather die of having a fat-related illness than live like this. Which led to even more moaning and groaning about why it's so easy for everyone else, but not for me. I should also add that I don't eat bad to begin with. Part of why I went on the diet was that with exercise alone, I was gaining- both weight and inches. Yes, I know muscle weighs more than fat, but really? Inches too? My pants were getting tighter and I had to go up a pants size.

Then God had a little chat with me. He wanted to know how I would feel if this was my body forever. Would I still be able to love my body if I never became thin again?

Ouch. Because that's the question that I think so many of us never ask ourselves when we think about losing weight. Could we love our bodies as they are? Like God loves us? Sure, it would be better for our bodies to be healthier. Just like it would be better for our souls to be more spiritually healthy. But are we loving ourselves, our bodies, for what they are now, rather than the someday we hope they become?

I'm still on the diet. The good news is that I have a few more days before I can add back in some of the things I had to cut out. I'll do that a while longer, and then I get to add back in a few more things. There are things she says we should never eat, and you know what? She can bite me. I'm not going to completely take away the joy of yummy food. Will I do it in moderation? Yes. But I'm going to balance the ideal me with loving the me that I am. I have a few more curves than I'm supposed to, and I jiggle in places I'd rather not jiggle, but this is the body God gave me. And I'm going to love it for what it is.

Thanksgiving Thursday: Paying it forward

2011-10-20T17:36:00.000-06:00


My two workers!

Today I am thankful for the ability to pay it forward. That might sound strange, but for me, it's a really big deal. Several years ago, hubby was struggling to find work. We had two small children (one was a baby) and two teenagers, with no prospects in sight. Then hubby met this guy on one of his jobs who said, "are you ever interested in doing any side work?"

A beautiful partnership was born. Hubby did a lot of work for this guy and for a long time, those jobs kept us us in diapers. After a few jobs, however, they got stuck doing this house and the people were jerks, and long story short, hubby and his friend did a ton of work they never got paid for. Such is the life of a contractor. Fortunately, work for hubby had picked up, so he had a job to fall back on. The other guy ended up giving up his contracting business and getting a job.

Fast forward to now. We've stayed in touch with the guy, and the economy is hitting him hard. He's facing foreclosure, and work has really slowed down for him. One of hubby's side clients recently came to him with a big job- too big for hubby to handle on his own and still work the day job. So he called this guy, and now his friend has a little extra work. It's not a lot, but it's enough to make me feel absolutely blessed that in this economy, we're able to put someone to work and repay the favor he did for hubby all those years ago. Plus, because I still remember the difference those jobs made in our life, I know that even what I see as a small amount is probably huge to them.

Is there someone you're thankful for being able to help today?

I think they have the wrong idea...

2011-10-18T08:20:00.000-06:00

I seriously meant to go back to my Tuesday tea time blogs. I have the ideas in my head. But right now, I am so tired that the Skillet song, Comatose, is playing constantly in my head. For some reason, that song in my head is the signal to go to bed!

Instead of hearing about great tea, let's talk about something else that's yummy- ice cream!

My MSN messenger that I'm signed in to for work had this article pop up. A group of ultra-conservative Jews vandalized an ice cream shop for being lewd. Apparently, licking an ice cream cone in public is immodest.

Me, I would break into an ice cream shop. But it would be because I want some of that frozen deliciousness all for myself! As for vandalizing, I think I would only do it if they were out of my favorite flavor.

So... if you had the opportunity to break into an ice cream shop, or *gasp* vandalize it, why would you do so?

And, okay, I would never break into or vandalize an ice cream shop, but let's pretend...

Am I ready for this?

2011-10-17T21:31:00.001-06:00

Over the weekend, we had a birthday party for the 11yo- a house full of pre-teens and I survived! I think a deserve a medal for surviving all the craziness. Actually, it was a lot of fun.

However, it got me thinking about how my daughter is facing changes that I'm not sure I'm ready for. Out of the twelve kids we'd invited, TWO brought cell phones. Maybe I'm just not with the times, but I think 10 is a bit young to have a cell phone. I finally had to make the rule that the kids had to leave their phones on the counter during the party.

So tell me... am I just not with it? What is the right age to give a kid a cell phone?

The value of volunteering in schools

2011-10-14T11:50:00.000-06:00


You don't have to wait for field day!

Yesterday I blogged about helping out in my daughter's class briefly as I moved on to having lunch with my other daughter. But as I was blogging, I thought a lot about the value of volunteering in our kids' schools.

My older daughter's class has 30 students. That's a lot for one teacher, and certainly not ideal for learning. Years ago, my response would have been, "well, they need to hire more teachers." Ha! In this economy, there's just no money for more teachers. To which my response would have been, "well, they need to do a better job spending my tax dollars." However, after spending the past few years helping out in my children's classrooms, I know better. I watch as the teachers as careful about what they print, using both sides, and every scrap of paper. I have to hand it to our teachers- they're amazing about squeezing every penny out of every supply that goes into the classroom.

But economics aside, I've realized there's even greater value to being in the classroom than just helping the teacher. I'm establishing relationships with my children and their peers. For many children, they are finding one more safe adult to have in their lives. I know the kids who drive my kids nuts. I know the bullies. I know the popular kids. I know the kids who are starved for attention. I know the kids whose parents are really active in their lives. I learn so many things about their lives- like the kids who are upset about their parents' divorce, or the ones who feel like they don't fit in with their dozens of siblings. I can tell you who gets along with their siblings, and who thinks their siblings are pests. I wish you could see me chuckling here, because yesterday, I went into the library, and met a little girl for the first time. When I found out her name, I smiled and said, "oh, I know you! You're X's sister!" Of course, I knew that because I'd just had lunch with her and her friends complaining about what a pest she was. But boy, you should have seen how proud that little girl was to know that I knew her.

Why is all of this so important?

Because we live in a scary world where people do some crazy things that make it a really unsafe place for our kids to grow up. But by building relationships with the children around mine, I can make it safer. And, I can share values with those kids who may not realize that not all families have multiple marriages, parents who hate each other, parents who are too busy with their own lives to spend time with their kids, and that the ugliness they face at home does not have to be their story. I'm not talking about abuse here, that definitely belongs in the hands of authorities. But do you know how many kids in my kids' school feel like they don't matter? And I don't believe it's because they have bad parents. They just have parents who are really busy or are dealing with their own bad marriages, or bad situations, and they don't notice.

Parents, find a way to be involved in your kids' classrooms. This does not mean you become helicopter parents and smother your kids. But take the time to be there. Get to know the kids, and let them reveal themselves to you.

For those who don't think they have the time, make the time. I realize it's easier for me to be involved because I work from home and have a more flexible schedule. But I still do have a job. So the time I take to be in the classroom, I do make up later. One of the moms who always helps in our school works nights, so she takes her daytime sleep time to spend an hour a week at the school. Another mom uses her day off and takes one hour from that day to come in. I also know a mom who can't get a lot of time off, so she uses vacation days to go on field trips. Even those few special days mean a lot to the kids. So get creative! Your kids, and their peers, need you.

Thanksgiving Thursday: Lunch with little girls

2011-10-13T15:56:00.000-06:00


Who can resist that grin?

I volunteer in my older daughter's class on Thursdays. For an hour every week, I help a bunch of 5th grade students with their writing. I'm amazed at how these teachers are teaching the kids nowadays. So many cool things they're learning. If ever I had hope in our children's futures, it would be on the days when I get to sit in a classroom and edit their writing.

But that's not what I'm writing my thankful post about today.

You see, I usually also help in my little one's class, but her teacher hasn't set up a schedule yet. So... I haven't been in that classroom. My little one is quite bitter about this fact, and so today, when I was looking at their daily schedule, I realized that I finish in my older daughter's class right at the time my little one goes to lunch.

Today, I had lunch with a table full of second graders. When I walked into the cafeteria, one of my daughter's classmates recognized me immediately and informed me that she was still in the lunch line. So I went to the lunch line and got to surprise a little girl. I love that she immediately wrapped her arms around me, and smiled that goofy toothless smile common in second grade. We walked through the lunch line hand in hand, and the lunch lady tried to feed me, so I finally accepted a cup of sliced oranges. On the way to the table, my daughter informed me that another friend was saving her a spot.

I had no idea a table of little girls could be so crowded, yet still have room, but sure enough, when my daughter arrived, they scooted over to give her a spot. And the little girl charged with saving my daughter a spot cast me a mournful, apologetic look and told me she didn't save me a spot because she didn't know I was coming. So I squatted near the end of the table, and took in the noisy gaggle of girls while eating my orange slices. I realized, as they all chatted, that I know the little girls in my daughter's grade. I could look around the lunchroom and pick out the different cliques (yup, they exist in second grade), and I knew almost every kid in there. Well, the girls at least. And the cute boys they giggle about. And the bad boys they scorn.

And I was thankful.

Because there will come a time when she is too embarrassed to hug me in the hallway, walk with me hand in hand through the lunch line, or have me sit with her friends. As she gets older, I'll know the crowd she hangs with because I've been having lunch with them for years. Each time I have lunch with them, I learn a little more about them, from the kid who is involved in way too many activities, to the kid who is painfully shy but terribly sweet, and the innocent looking one who instigates most of the trouble. And okay, by the time she gets to high school, I won't know ALL of the kids she'll be hanging out with, but I've made a good start. I'm really thankful for that opportunity.

I should also mention, to all the moms and aunties and dads and uncles, that it really does mean a lot to the kids when you take the time to have lunch with the kids. They love showing you off to their friends, and their friends love it when you take an interest in them, not as a parent, but as a person. I know not everyone is lucky enough to work from home like I do, but if you can find a way, do it. Because every little girl at my daughter's table wished her mom or dad could have come to lunch.

What seemingly meaningless task can you be thankful for today?

Happy Birthday to the best little creature on the planet

2011-10-11T11:18:00.001-06:00

Last day as a Tenderfoot at Westernaires

Look Ma! I can ride bareback AND barefoot!

This is my little cowgirl birthday girl.

You'll forgive me if I'm a little weepy today, but wow... I can't believe how fast she's grown. I'd post baby pictures, but that would send me over the edge.

I have to say that I truly like my little girl. She's such a good person, with a good heart.

Part of me is more than willing to let her grow up, because I can't wait to see what kind of person she turns out to be. But part of me is enjoying her so much that I don't want her to grow up at all.
So for now, I'll just share my sweet girl. And enjoy each of these moments while they last.

Also, if you're so inclined, she's selling tickets to the Westernaires annual show. You can find details here. It's the annual fundraiser for the organization, which provides kids with the opportunity to ride and learn about horses at a very low cost. So it's great for my little horse lover who lives in the 'burbs and doesn't get to be around horses nearly as often as she'd like. They have shows on October 29 and October 30, but if you can't make it, you can also buy a donation ticket that will be used for someone less fortunate to attend the show. Tickets for all shows are $8. So if you're interested in buying a ticket to support this great organization, please let me know!

Tenderfoot graduation!

First day as a sophomore. Notice the permagrin.

Raising A Daughter After God's Own Heart by Elizabeth George

2011-09-29T09:00:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Elizabeth George

and the book:

Raising a Daughter After God's Own Heart

Harvest House Publishers (September 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Karri | Marketing Assistant of Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Elizabeth George, whose books have sold more than 6.5 million copies, is the author of A Woman After God’s Own Heart® (more than 1 million copies sold) and Breaking the Worry Habit Forever! She’s also a popular speaker at Christian women’s events. Elizabeth and her husband, Jim, are parents and grandparents, and have been active in ministry for more than 30 years.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Elizabeth George, bestselling author and mother of two daughters, provides biblical insight and guidance for every mom who wants to lead their daughter to a godly life through example, study, and prayer. Elizabeth includes questions to draw moms and daughter closer as together they pursue spiritual priorities and God’s heart.

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (September 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736917721
ISBN-13: 978-0736917728

MY REVIEW:
What a great book! I've already recommended it to several friends because it's such a great resource for those of us trying to raise daughters in this crazy world. Just before I received my copy, a friend and I were talking about how we wished we could find a guide for raising Godly daughters. And here it is! I highly recommend this book to mothers of daughters, and I'd even say, mothers of sons, because these would be great things to pray about for your future daughter in law.

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The Bell Sheep

Part 1 — Earning Your Bell

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.
And these words which I command you today
shall be in your heart.

— Deuteronomy 6:5

On a recent Christmas Sunday, my husband, Jim, and I and our family of 14 arrived at a church service extra early to make sure we didn’t end up in the “Standing Room Only” section for this special occasion. With my bulletin in hand and several minutes to spare before the service started, I opened my Bible and looked up the Scripture passage the pastor would focus on during his message. Then I read through some additional teaching notes and commentary in the margin of my Bible. One article was entitled “The Bell Sheep.”

The bell sheep? What in the world is that? I wondered. I read on. The article explained that when a shepherd noticed a sheep who willingly followed him and stayed near him, he hung a bell around the neck of that sheep so the flock would follow the bell sheep…who, in turn, was following the shepherd.

Knowing I would begin writing Raising a Daughter After God’s Own Heart as soon as the Christmas holiday was over, I almost jumped out of my seat when I read this. I was shouting out in my mind, “That’s it! That’s it! A mom should be the bell sheep for her daughter!”

And it’s true! When we as mothers stay close to Jesus—as close as close can be, and when we love Him with all our heart just the way Jesus said to, and when we willingly follow Him and His Word, guess what? We become His bell sheep for our daughters to follow. Our girls observe—and copy—our behavior. They can—and will—follow our example. We become their very own personal walking, living, real flesh and blood, visual example of what it means to be a child, girl, tween, teen, and woman after God’s own heart.

How to Be a Bell Sheep…in Three Verses

Finally Christmas was over, meaning it was D-Day for me—or more accurately, W-Day as in Writing Day. So I sat down to begin and wondered and prayed, “Where does Christian childrearing really begin? And what is Thing 1, Goal 1 for a mom?”

In a few seconds I had the answer! And it came from God’s Word. It was packaged in three verses I had discovered as a young mom, and also as a baby Christian. I flashed back on those early new-believer days of excitement, of newness, of need as I hungered to find out for the first time what God teaches about…everything! And especially “What in the world am I supposed to do with two little toddling girls?”

I’m so glad a wise woman had advised me to read in my new Bible every day. Well, the day arrived when I made it to the book of Deuteronomy. And there I hit gold when my eyes landed on Deuteronomy 6:5-7. I was stunned. Amazed. Thrilled! God was actually showing me His guidelines for raising my own little daughters, then only one-and-a-half and two-and-a-half years old. And in only three verses! How practical is that? Here’s what I read over and over again and finally memorized:

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.

I adore these verses because they are packed with clear communication to moms. God goes straight to the heart of the matter—the parent’s heart, the mom’s heart. He knows we become what we love. So He is utterly straightforward about where we are to place our love: We are to love Him supremely.

Two Questions to Ask Yourself

Believe me, I thought through this powerful passage—a lot! Then I took it apart word by word and thought by thought. And I came up with two questions I constantly asked my heart during those days with little girls, and still ask even today with two married daughters who are now raising their daughters. (After all, a mom is always a mom!)

Heart Question #1: What—and whom—do I love?

We “love” a lot of things for a lot of different reasons. But God prescribes perimeters and scope for our love. He tells us what not to love: “Do not love the world or the things in the world” (1 John 2:15). And He tells us what we are to love and where our love is to be focused—we are to “love the Lord” (Deuteronomy 6:5).

But hold on. The Lord goes a step further and demands all of our love. He wants us to love Him with every fiber of our being—every breath, every ounce of energy, every thought, every emotion and passion, every choice. He wants us to love Him. He wants us to think first of Him and to desire above all else to please Him. And He wants that love to be intense and total, “with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.” As writer Matthew Henry summarizes, “He that is our all demands our all.”

Matthew Henry continues on to point out that our love for God is to be a strong one that is lived out with great enthusiasm and fervency of affection. It is to be a love that burns like a sacred fire, a love that causes our every affection to flow toward Him.

Now, apply this information about the strength of this kind of love for God and think about the love you have for your daughter, for your children. I’m sure you’ve heard others say, “There is no love like a mother’s love.” And it’s true! From the split second we know a baby is on the way, all our thoughts, dreams, prayers, and goals are channeled toward that little one. We are completely consumed and preoccupied by this tiny being. As the baby grows within us, our love blossoms and our commitment to it grows right along with our expanding body.

Immediately we begin to prepare physically for his or her arrival by meticulously taking care of our health. Healthy mom equals healthy baby, we’re told. We also prepare physically by setting up a nursery area for the new little addition. A bassinet or crib. A blanket. A mobile. Clothes. Supplies. Loads of diapers! Sometimes we even paint or remodel a room.

Then we moms get to work preparing our schedule. Maybe we have to quit a job or arrange for a leave of absence. Oh, and we have to find a pediatrician, as well as make time for our own doctor appointments. And, if we’re smart, we begin to prepare by gathering wisdom and information from our own moms, other moms, and from classes, books, and the Internet.

But as much as we obsess and focus on an approaching child, God wants us to obsess and focus even more on Him. That’s because the more we love Him, the more we will know about love. And the more we know about love, the more we will know about how to love. And the more we know about how to love, the more we will love our baby, our child, our daughter. I like what C.S. Lewis wrote about his love for God and how it affected his relationship with his wife: “When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now.” Mom, your love for God will prepare you to love your child. The more you love the Lord, the better you shall love your earthly dearest daughter.

So…God’s first assignment to any and every mother is to love Him above all else. If you are a sold-out, on-fire, hot-hearted, committed-to-God woman, you will be infinitely further down the road to being the kind of mom who, by His grace, can raise a daughter after God’s own heart. Because all your love centers upon God, and because you follow Him with all your heart, you will qualify to lead your daughter to follow God too—to be…well…God’s bell sheep for her.

Heart Question #2: What’s in my heart?

I don’t know what’s in your heart, and I’m working on what’s in mine! But God tells both of us what is supposed to be there, what He wants to be there. Here it is: He says, “These words which I command you today shall be in your heart” (verse 6).

And here’s the scene surrounding these words: In Deuteronomy 6, Moses is in the final weeks of his life. It has been 40 years since God’s people left Egypt, 40 years of homeless wanderings in the desert. At last a new generation was poised to enter into the Promised Land. But before they move out, Moses restates the Law one more time to this new generation that had been born in the wilderness. Because this next generation had married and now had—and would have—children, he addresses their spiritual responsibility as parents. As Moses speaks, he doesn’t want these moms and dads to merely hear the words of the Law and the Ten Commandments. No, he wants more, way more! He wants the words of the Law to go beyond their ears and reside in their hearts.

You may want to look again at Deuteronomy 6:6, but it tells us that God’s Word, the Bible, is to be in our hearts. Other passages in the Bible send us this same message:

This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate in it day and night (Joshua 1:8).

Your word I have hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against you (Psalm 119:11).

My son, keep my words, and treasure my commands within you…bind them on your fingers; write them on the tablet of your heart (Proverbs 7:1,3).

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly (Colossians 3:16).

The message is repeated…and loud, isn’t it? And clear! God’s Word is to be in our heart. He asks this of you and me as moms. Why? Because when truth resides in your heart, then you have something to pass on to your daughter. She benefits! And you benefit too: As a mother you have something to guide you when you need help, strength, wisdom, and perseverance in your role as a mom, as a bell sheep. Don’t get me wrong—having and raising a child is perhaps the greatest earthly blessing you will ever enjoy. But, at the same time, it is the greatest challenge. But take heart, mom! God’s Word will always be there in you, with you, and for you as you guide your daughter in the ways of the Lord.

So…God’s second assignment for you as a mom is to be committed to His Word. You are to do whatever it takes to embed the teachings of the Bible in your heart, soul, and mind. As the saying goes, “You cannot impart what you do not possess.” The same is true of moms. To teach and guide, lead and raise a daughter after God’s own heart presupposes and requires that God’s truth be in your heart first. Then you possess something to impart. Then you have the most important thing to pass on to your precious daughter—the truth about God and the grace He extends through His Son, Jesus.

Becoming the Bell Sheep

I hope your heart is responding fervently to our initial glimpse at this primary role in the life of a mom after God’s own heart—that of being your daughter’s very own bell sheep. But maybe you are feeling like you need a little help. Well, read on to find out how to become the bell sheep. Practical help is on the way!

Part 2 — Ringing Your Bell

You shall teach them diligently to your children,

and shall talk of them when you sit in your house,

when you walk by the way, when you lie down,

and when you rise up.

— Deuteronomy 6:6-7

When my girls were young, I didn’t know about the bell sheep. But if I had, I would have wanted with all my heart to be one. And I would have been praying, “Oh, dear Father! You know how much I desire to be a bell sheep for my daughters. My greatest goal in life is to lead them to Jesus and teach them His ways.” I’m imagining this same heart-cry is being lifted heavenward from your soul’s core too.

As you’ve probably learned, knowing there is something God wants you to do is crucial. And wanting to do what God wants you to do is vital. But if you don’t know how to do what it is God wants you to do, you can become extremely frustrated.

So now we come to the big issue of how do I do this thing God wants—and expects—me to do? Well, here we go!

Yes, but How?

How does a mom help her daughter develop a heart for God? Deuteronomy 6:7 comes to the rescue and answers this question for you and me. God says, “You shall teach them diligently to your children” (verse 7). A mom who wholeheartedly loves the Lord and holds God’s words in her heart is to teach them to her sons and daughters.

— “To teach” There are two key ways to teach—by model and by mouth. And there are some basic practices you can follow for teaching effectively. I have a degree in education and have taught preschoolers, students from grades seven through twelve, and adults taking night school classes. Teaching was a job and I took it seriously. I developed my lesson plans for each day, week, month, semester, and school year. And I studied and prepared in advance for each day’s classes.

I also have a daughter who homeschools. I am in constant awe of her commitment. She plans out each year. She searches for materials for five children and their respective grade levels. She orders curriculum to arrive well before back-to-school day so she can preview it. Then she plans in advance the best way to teach, lead, and guide the five of them through each day of study.

Now picture this: I taught subjects that had nothing to do with God or with being a Christian, and so does my daughter. Imagine the effort we both put into teaching information and facts. And here in Deuteronomy 6:7, God is telling both of us—and all moms—to teach our children His Word, His ways, His truth. Now, this is life-changing stuff! The Bible is wisdom that will guide their lives and their choices. It is truth that will pierce a heart and bring a daughter to Christ. So be aware that every time you teach God’s Word you, the bell sheep, are ringing your bell! You are signaling to your daughter the priceless value of the treasure of the Scriptures.

This is exactly what happened in the New Testament to Timothy. As the apostle Paul said of Timothy, his trusted associate in ministry, “from childhood you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 3:15). God’s Word is dynamite! And Timothy’s mom and grandmom, a mother/daughter tag team after God’s own heart, were faithful to ring their bells! They were faithful to teach him the sacred truths of the Bible, which paved the way for Timothy’s salvation. Mom and grandmom did their part—they fulfilled their mission to teach God’s saving truth. And God certainly did His part!

Time out for a second. I’m thinking as we pause here, shouldn’t a mom after God’s own heart who wants to raise a daughter after God’s own heart take her teaching of Scripture seriously? If you are in this position, shouldn’t you be committed to…

…instructing your daughter in God’s ways?

…planning to some extent how you will accomplish this goal?

…scheduling a time each day for some kind of formal Bible time with her?

…encouraging her to have some time alone with God, a quiet time?

…coaching her in ways to have daily devotions?

…searching for age-appropriate materials and talking with other moms about how they teach their children biblical truth?

…praying daily about this mission from God, this teacher role He has personally given you?

— “To teach diligently” Next God tells us in verse 7 to “teach them diligently to your children.” The “them” is what you are to teach—God’s Word and His commands. And “diligently” is how you are to teach—being purposeful and conscientious in a task or duty.

Think about this for a minute: What are you diligent about? Some women diligently floss their teeth. Others are so diligent they would never miss their daily exercise or walk, or be late to work, or fail to pay a bill on time. I know women who are so serious about every bite of food they put into their mouths that they diligently record what they eat in a daily log. On and on goes the list of life instances in which women choose to be diligent instead of careless, or lazy, or negligent.

Now switch your thoughts to doing what God says, to being diligent to teach spiritual truth to your daughter…versus leaving this all-important assignment to someone else, such as a church leader or a Christian school or a grandparent. Don’t get me wrong! These are wonderful and needed resources. But they are to be your partners in imparting truth, not your substitutes. You as a mother are to be the bell sheep who rings the bell of truth like crazy! You, mom, are to be the primary model and teacher of truth to your daughter.

Well, thank the Lord He doesn’t leave moms on their own. This isn’t mission impossible. No, it’s mission possible. God knows most moms don’t have a degree in education or training in teaching. And, whew, God doesn’t expect this or demand it! Aren’t you glad? Instead, He tells us how to teach and what this teaching involves. He says, “You…shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up” (verse 7).

No matter who you are, or what you do or don’t know about teaching—or how busy you are!—God expects you to pour God’s Word out of your heart and into your daughter’s heart. All you have to do is:

Step 1, love the Lord with all your heart;

Step 2, have God’s Word in your heart; and now

Step 3, teach His truths diligently.

By…what? Talking?! You mean that’s all? That’s it? Yes, that’s it—by talking.

Now I ask you, you’re a woman. How hard can talking be? Why, we girls are the world’s experts when it comes to talking!

And note where all our mother-to-daughter talking and teaching is to take place—at home. Nothing could be easier or more natural or more convenient than home sweet home! You don’t need elaborate plans. You don’t need to dress up or go anywhere. You don’t need to start the car. And you don’t need to spend any money. No. God simply says that “when you sit in your house,” you are to talk about Him.

Whew again—this one’s easy! You sit to relax. You sit to eat. You sit to visit. You sit to read. You sit to work on a craft together. And you sit whenever you’re in the car together. No matter what your daughter’s age is, these natural, low-key, sitting instances provide prime opportunities to talk about the Lord and His love and His promises…and His Son.

And “when you walk by the way” you are to talk about the Lord. From babyhood, to toddler times, to little girl, to schoolgirl, you’ll be walking with your daughter. That’s your special time for talking about the Lord. So…

Got a newborn? You will walk…and walk…and walk each time you calm your crying, ill, or restless baby. And you’ll put in miles pushing her stroller. And you’ll find yourself talking baby talk to her. I laughed out loud when I read this true-to-motherhood quip: “Being a mom means talking to your baby all the time.” So go ahead and talk all you want. It will develop the habit in you—and tune your baby girl’s heart to your voice.

How about a school-age daughter? If you walk your young daughter to school or to and from the school bus stop, you get to talk about the Lord. Tell her how He will help her through her time at school, with her test or report, with making friends. If you walk to the mailbox down the road, take your daughter along and chat about the wonders of the Lord and what it means to know Him. Let her know how she can trust Him and talk to Him anytime, anywhere, and ask for His help. When you walk together through the grocery store or the mall, again, make that an opportunity to talk about God and His provision and blessings. If there’s a breathtaking sunrise, sunset, rainbow, or wonder of nature—a bird’s nest, blooming flowers, even something as small as a dandelion, go outside and marvel at God’s handiwork together. And while you’re at it, do as the psalmist did and “talk” of His doings. “Praise” the Lord for His mighty acts and His greatness. “Declare” His faithfulness.

And then come the teen years. Hopefully you and your daughter have developed the habit of talking to each other about any and every thing, and especially about the Lord. So during her teen years, when things can get a little weird, and she may even see you as a little weird, you can still talk because of your history of talking. Believe me, if you are available, and care, and give her your love and attention, she will spill all!

And if you haven’t developed this early habit of talking, don’t worry and don’t give up. Just be sure you start now. Start talking, even if your daughter doesn’t seem to be listening. She is hearing, and what you say in loving wisdom will be filed away in her mind and heart. And it won’t go away. She won’t be able to shake it or forget it. Draw your strength from the Lord and speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15). And if your daughter won’t talk to you, that’s okay. Just know before God that you talked, just like He asked you to do. You faithfully rang your bell. You shared truth from His Word. And take comfort in the fact that God promises His Word will not go forth in vain but will accomplish His purposes (Isaiah 55:11).

And to end each day and start the next, God tells you what to do in Deuteronomy 6:7: “When you lie down, and when you rise up,” talk! Talk about the Lord, and keep on talking about Him. You can help even your tiny young daughter start her days and end them with thoughts of God in her mind. You can greet your waking girl with, “This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24). Or you can call out, “There you are, my precious blessing from the Lord! Good morning!” And at night, prayer is the perfect way to put a little—and big!—girl to bed. It puts her day and all that happened to rest. It calms all sorrows and soothes every hurt from the day. And it quells her fears. Like David testified, “I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the Lord sustained me,” and “I will both lie down in peace and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety” (Psalm 3:5 and 4:8).

So…another of God’s assignments to any and every mom is to constantly be teaching and talking to your daughter about the Lord you love. Teaching and talking. And talking and teaching. Or put another way, ringing your bell! I hope you are grasping that being a Christian mom is more than taking your children to church. Home is a sort of church too. Home is the natural 24/7, morning-to-evening place to impress truth upon your daughter. Home is where she gets to see and hear every day how important the Lord is to you. Wherever and whenever the two of you are together is God’s opportunity for you to tell her about Him. So take advantage of the gift of such times. And if they are too few and far between, make it happen. Create the times together. In his book Shepherding a Child’s Heart, author Tedd Tripp gives this challenge to parents:

You shepherd your child in God’s behalf. The task God has given you is not one that can be conveniently scheduled. It is a pervasive task. Training and shepherding are going on whenever you are with your children. Whether waking, walking, talking or resting, you must be involved in helping your child to understand life, himself and his needs from a biblical perspective.

But What If…

I realize this ideal scenario does not happen in every mother/daughter relationship. Maybe the family you grew up in was not a Christian family. God knows that. He knows all about it—all about what you missed, and all about what you know and don’t know about being a Christian family and mom. So know that your mission is to begin where you are to follow the Lord. It’s never too late to receive Christ as Savior, to begin loving the Lord and growing in grace and in the knowledge of Him and His Word. You can choose any day—today, if you haven’t already—to begin diligently teaching the daughter you love, and talking to her about the God you love and who loves her. Point her to God. Encourage her in the Lord. Teach her what you know about Him from experience and from study. Pray for her with your every heartbeat. See her spiritual growth into a daughter after God’s own heart as your calling, your mission assignment from God. Commit to doing your part, and trust God to do His.

Perhaps you are thinking, This woman is crazy! Well, I wouldn’t blame you. But I will tell you I am crazy about God, crazy about my two daughters, and crazy about my four granddaughters. I will also tell you that I am passionate and passionately sold out to my role as a woman, mom, and grandmom after God’s own heart. It’s just so clear what God wants His moms to be and do. Your daughter has no other mother. You are the one He has chosen to teach her. And if you don’t, what if no one does?

Here’s a powerful description of what an all-out, all-or-nothing love for God and our daughters looks like. Let it encourage you today and in the decades of mothering to come:

…my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, diluted, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity…I won’t give up, shut up, let up, or slow up.

You Can Do It!

Each of the following suggestions is something you can do to contribute toward becoming the mom you dream of being. And each one betters your life…and your daughter’s too. Here we go:

Analyze your day.

Think through the rhythm of your day and pinpoint your discretionary time, the time when you have a choice about how it is used, when you can choose how it’s spent. There is always time to do what’s important to you. You’ll need to find the time to get to know God—to put first things first.

Design a quiet time.

Once you’ve carved out a special time to be with God, begin reading your Bible—even for just ten minutes. It’s been calculated that if you simply read your Bible for ten minutes a day, you will read through all of it in one year. That’s a doable task for you as a bell sheep whose life goal is leading your daughter to Jesus. There are scores of activities that fill your day. So steal ten minutes from a nonimportant activity like time on the Internet, time talking on the phone, time watching TV. Make a daily appointment with God and allow Him to speak to your heart from His Word.

Memorize Scripture.

Here’s a statistic for you: People remember about 40 percent of what they read. Wouldn’t it be nice to remember 100 percent? Well, you can if you memorize verses from the Bible. That’s what someone told me as a new Christian, and I followed their advice. As I shared earlier, as soon as I read Deuteronomy 6:5-7, I learned it by heart. I also picked out some verses that would help me with my daily life, including the daily challenge of being a mom after God’s own heart. Like “I can do all things [including be a mom!] through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). Once you store up some verses in your heart, you’ll find that wherever you are and whatever is happening, you can remember God’s words to you. And just think—as a bell sheep, you can draw your daughter to Jesus as you speak His words to her.

Read about parenting.

In my mentoring ministry, one of my assignments for the women I meet with and give my time to is that they read five minutes a day on a variety of topics. They can pick the topics and the books. They can buy them, borrow them, or check them out of the church library. I do this because I’ve been reading on my own topics for five minutes a day for decades! For instance, I’ve been reading five minutes a day on marriage and family for what seems like forever. The same goes for time and life management. And health.

If you do this too, you will amaze yourself as you become an expert on your subjects by merely reading five minutes a day on them. You will also be super motivated because the topic and your new knowledge is fresh in your mind. Instead of dreading something, you’ll look forward to approaching it differently and trying some new techniques or methods. Your reading will serve as a reminder and an instructor to pay attention to the areas of your life you targeted for growth. Pray, and then choose your subjects. Just be sure as a mom that childrearing is one of them.

Write a letter to God about your daughter.

Then read the letter to Him as a prayer. Prayer involves God. So now there are two of you taking on the challenge of raising a daughter after God’s own heart. It will seal your commitment to becoming God’s kind of mom so, Lord willing and by His grace, your daughter grows to be God’s kind of girl. File your “My Prayer to Be a Mom After God’s Own Heart” away where it is handy and can be prayed often, even daily. Your prayer is another good reminder each day to keep on keeping on in your goals as a mom and your goals for your daughter. And here’s an idea: Each year on your daughter’s birthday, slip a copy of your prayer into her birthday card. Be sure to tell her where you were and what you were feeling when you wrote it. What a gift!

Mom’s Think Pad

Before you move on to your next Mom Mission, take a minute or two to think about what you can do to track with God as a mom. Make some plans of your own to take a few small steps that make a big difference.

I’m awfully busy, but I want to be the mom God wants me to be! What are several things I can do—or not do—to create some time to get into God’s Word? I want to be a mom after God’s own heart!
I want to set a goal to memorize Deuteronomy 6:5-7. Here’s my checklist:
Write these verses on an index card and carry it with me.

Pick a daily five-minute time slot that works for my schedule, during which I can memorize these verses.

Write out each verse ten times.

Copy these verses on several more index cards and post them on the refrigerator door, bathroom mirror, computer, car dashboard.

Ask my daughter to help me memorize these verses, to listen to me recite them, to be my audience, my checker, my best helper!

What are some ways I can “teach” my daughter about God and His Word by “talking” about Him…
…when we are sitting together?

…when we are walking together?

…when she is going to bed or going down for her nap?

…when she gets up?

What are some ways I can be more faithful and “diligent” in passing on God’s truth to my daughter?
Do I need to be mentored in my own spiritual growth? Who could help me? Or is there a class I can take? A group I can join? A book I can read?

A happy when I'm grouchy

2011-09-19T22:03:00.001-06:00

I'm having a grouchy day. Lots of stuff went wrong and it made me grouchy. But... I have a happy! I finally have almost all of my inspirational fiction cataloged in my book database. Now, when I go to ACFW and buy books in the bookstore, I'll know what I have so I don't buy duplicates!

YAY!!

(Of course, I only have 3 of my 13 bookcases cataloged. We'll deal with those later, yes?)

So.... knowing the above statistic, how many books do you think are currently in my catalog? I'll give a book prize to whoever is closest.

Thanksgiving Thursday: A much awaited day

2011-09-15T08:49:00.001-06:00

Well, I'm not going to tell you exactly what I'm doing today, and those of you who do know, you can't tell!

I've been looking forward to today for a long time. It's a day for just me, and it's something I would have never done for myself had a dear friend not offered as a birthday gift.

So today, I am thankful for what's to come, and I'm sooo excited!!

Are you anticipating anything exciting in the near future?

Church Lessons from my 7yo

2011-09-14T17:22:00.000-06:00

As we have all figured out by now, my 7yo doesn't just dance to the beat of her own drummer, she's in a completely different band. Yesterday after church, as I was trying to converse with her about what she learned, I got to hear her interpretation of the lesson. It's very funny, and has no reflection on her teachers (I promise, Matt!)- she just processes differently.

Me: What'd you learn in church today?
Her: I don't know.
Me: Was there anything interesting in church today?
Her: Oh yeah. This girl was there talking.
Me: Which girl?
Her: The one who always wears boots. She's got dark hair and it's in a curly ponytail. I think her name is Chris or something.
Me: Do you mean Kristin?
Her: Yes.
(And, she's right. Kristin wears skinny jeans and boots a lot. She really knows how to rock them. So jealous of her fashion sense.)
Me: What did Kristin talk about?
Her: Well, she said a bunch of stuff. It was funny.
Me: What did she say?
Her: Well, she said blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Only she didn't say blah blah blah, blah blah blah. She actually used words.
Me: (Trying not to die laughing.) So what was so funny about what she said?
Her: She held up signs for us to laugh or clap or to (makes gasping sound) do that. I forget what that is.
Me: Gasp?
Her: Yes. Gasp.
Me: Do you remember what the story was about?
Her: Oh! It was about Jesus asking a guy to baptize him.
Me: Why did Jesus want to get baptized? (Note: We just did baptisms at church. I'm thinking we're about to enter into a deep, spiritual discussion about baptism.)
Her: (looooong sigh) Because when you get baptized it's like dying on the cross and then rising again. (I am thinking YES!!! She gets it!)
Her: (continuing) And Jesus is so sick of having to die on the cross every single year, and then having to rise again, and then having to be born again every Christmas. So now he's just going to get baptized so he doesn't have to keep doing it every single year.

(At which point, I am having to try REALLY hard not to die laughing, because she is truly indignant at how horrible it is for Jesus to have to die on the cross EVERY SINGLE YEAR. I mean really, he's sick of it, okay? So just stop making him do it already!)

This, my friends, is my world. Or her interpretation thereof.

Tuesday Tea Time: Good Companions

2011-09-13T21:50:00.001-06:00


It is a waste to drink blooming tea alone

Today I am exhaustimificated. Yes, it's a real word, I made it up myself. The Dog woke me up at an hour where those who know me know that it is simply not safe to bring me to any state of consciousness. The Man did not let him out when he went to work, and so The Dog made his displeasure known to me. The Man blames The Dog for not getting up, but we all know it is The Man's fault.

The point of this very very sad tale is that I've been so tired all day, and with a packed schedule because I'm back to crazy Tuesdays, I did not have time to think through today's post.

Which got me to thinking about one of the things I love about going to tea. Amazing companions who get it. I can assure you that my favorite tea companions understand that I am not human prior to about 9 am, 10 if I can help it. They understand that sigh of completeness upon taking that first important sniff of a long awaited cup of tea. They let you talk about the crazy things in your life. They don't try to have you committed for wondering what the best way to rob the bank across the street would be, or how a terrorist might attack the very place in which you sit. The perfect tea companion lets you knit while you sip. And the perfect tea companion understands that the correct answer to the question of scone is, "yes, please, with lots of clotted cream."

Who is your perfect tea companion?

Pomodoro Productivity

2011-09-12T17:11:00.001-06:00

I'm hard at work- REALLY!

A week or so ago, I was talking with Camy Tang about re-evaluating things on my plate and time management. She told me about the Pomodoro technique. She had read about it on Mary DeMuth's blog, and since I respect Mary as a fellow superwoman, and it was working for Camy, I checked it out.

Wowie Zowie!!

The first day I used it, I got all my regular work done, plus some writing, plus some chit chat with a good friend. I've been using it off and on for the better part of a week, and when I remember to use it, I'm finding that I'm getting a lot more done.

Now, since I don't have a handy dandy tomato timer, I've been using the microwave timer, which has been great for me, because it forces me to get up and turn off the timer, thus forcing me to stop work. Before, I'd look at the clock and think, "just a few more minutes," and keep going.

For those of you scratching your head about the technique, basically, what you do is take 25 minutes and spend it on one task, then when the time goes off, take a 5 minute break, then do it again. Each of these segments is called a Pomodoro. After four Pomodoros, you take a longer break.

Since I work at home, I've been using my breaks to straighten up the house, start dinner, do laundry, etc. I'm amazed at how much housework I get done during my breaks! Better yet, I don't feel as overwhelmed because I think, "only five minutes of putting laundry away. How much laundry can I get put away in five minutes?" And then, when my timer goes off, I leave my laundry where it is, and get back to work!

Today I crossed everything off my to-do list, including a couple of items I keep moving to another day because under my old haphazard method, I ran out of time. The only thing I didn't do is something I forgot to write down.

For me, the key is going to be remembering to actually use the system. My crossed off list proves that it works much better for me than anything else I've tried.

What time management system works for you?

Thanksgiving Thursday: Delayed Answers

2011-09-08T10:51:00.000-06:00

Today I am thankful for delayed answers. Which is kind of weird, because I'm the most impatient person I know. However... yesterday I had some wonderful quiet time in which God showed me the joy in the delayed answer to a prayer I prayed several years ago.

Rewind a few years. I was in a semi bad place, and I really needed someone to come alongside me. A really good friend knew someone in a similar place and tried to connect us. On the surface, this person and I had so much in common, and we really appeared to be a good fit. But time passed, and the connection never worked out. I prayed a lot about it, and I really prayed for this connection, because it seemed so perfect. I wondered why the only answer I received was silence.

Fast forward to recent months. Over the past few months I learned some things about this person that have made me realize that we would have had a very toxic and damaging relationship. I know that I would have taken a lot of it personally and having a relationship with this person would have really hurt me. I know this because of some things that happened to a friend of mine with this person.

My friend called me yesterday to apologize for saying bad things about this person, and as she apologized, I started to realize what a gift it had been. First off, my friend had nothing to apologize for- she had merely been talking about her experience with this person and trying to figure out the right thing to do. But secondly, as I saw the behaviors this other person exhibited, I realized how I would have been affected by them. It would not have been healthy for me. So I thanked my friend. Because her words gave me the clarity to an answer I'd been looking for about this person.

Why couldn't we connect?

I think God prevented us from connecting, because He knew that we would have connected, but ultimately, the differences in our personalities would have created a toxic relationship that would have been damaging to me, and maybe even both of us. I am learning that I don't always know my limits when it comes to people. I let in a lot of bad people and I don't have good enough boundaries to keep them from hurting me. I am learning to have better boundaries (but still need a lot of work), but back then, my difficulty in maintaining boundaries would have made the situation really bad.

I also realized that the reason God didn't just say, "no," is that back then, I would not have understood. I didn't know that I had a problem with boundaries, and I would have pushed myself to do what I thought was the right thing, even though it was the wrong thing. Please don't misunderstand and think that I think this person is a bad person or that I'm judging this person for what happened to my friend. I truly believe this person was doing what s/he thought best. I just saw a pattern of behavior and reactions that I know would have been a bad situation for me. I had observed these behaviors over the past several months without my friend's feedback, but my friend's words provided confirmation.

So I have been sitting here, sad for my friend and the hurt she is feeling, but also grateful that God protected me from what would have been worse hurt. I didn't understand my lack of answers years ago, but today, I get it. And it's helping me to think about all the other delayed answers, the longings in my heart that I don't understand why God hasn't clearly told me anything other than wait. I don't like the waiting, and I don't like the thought that perhaps in the end, the answer will be no. But I see how God has protected me in this situation, and I feel strengthened knowing that my other delayed answers may be more about my protection and growth than it is about God being a big meanie.

What about you? Are there answers you are waiting on? Is there something in that wait you can be thankful for?

My friend Robert

2011-09-07T09:00:00.000-06:00

When I was a little girl, my teacher gave me a poster that I loved. Something happened to it when we moved (I suspect my mom threw it out), and I've always missed it.

The poster was a picture of a beautiful forest, with Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken, printed within. It's still one of my favorite poems, and a couple of weeks ago, I saw a scene that reminded me again of the poem.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

and sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could

to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

and having perhaps the better claim

because it was grassy and wanted wear;

though as for that, the passing there

had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

in leaves no feet had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference

Actually, we didn't take the path less traveled by, as you can see from the pictures, it dead-ended, and there were a lot of signs telling people not to leave the paved path. But it was still a beautiful walk, and a beautiful day, and even though it was just me and my friend Tess, I'd like to think my friend Robert was with us too, and that he would have enjoyed the walk just as much as we did.

Tuesday Tea Time: When you want to run away screaming

2011-09-06T22:53:00.000-06:00

Um, yes, this happens to me frequently. Mostly because I am a super introverted mommy with a super extroverted high maintenance ~~terrorist~~ ~~diva~~ daughter and I find it best for all parties involved for mommy to go have a little tea time with her BFF. Said BFF also has a ~~terrorist~~ ~~diva~~ daughter (though hers is not as extreme as mine. Not that it's a competition. I'd gladly let someone else win.). On this particular day, however, we also wanted to run away screaming from the wonderful men we married.

YUM!

These are the days when the only thing that will do is being in an Asian restaurant (preferably Chinese) where the nice wait staff comes by with great frequency to refill your tea pot. Frankly, I don't care which kind of tea they give me, because most of the time, any good Chinese place will give you a pot of the house Jasmine and it's really quite good. Or maybe I'm desperate. Either way, I don't care. It's tea. When you ask me what keeps me from having to check into a loony bin, I'll tell you- tea. There is nothing a pot of tea won't cure. Sometimes it takes several pots, but it always works.

One of these is a tea menu.

Anyway, the last time I ran away, it was dinnertime, and since I could not cope with the idea of cooking AND dealing with my family, I told my BFF to pick a restaurant, and as long as I got my pots of Asian tea, I was good. She chose sushi. Now, I've never really braved the real stuff without my beloved Camy Tang, but that night, I was REALLY brave and did sashimi. I did not die. I didn't even gag. I would even say it was quite good. Which is saying a lot since I just looked up the place, and the reviews say it's not that great.

We ended up at Wasabi Sushi Bar. The patio seating was great, and I loved the ambiance. Nothing like drinking tea and watching the sunset. The service was a little slow, but since I ended up arriving an hour early (and getting some nice quiet time in), I am not complaining. They also had a tea menu, which impressed me, since most of these places have maybe two or three choices. I also had the plum wine. Best part of the whole night-

Tastes great with wine!

Me: "I'll have the plum wine and a pot of the decaf green papaya pineapple tea."
Waitress: "You want two drinks?"
Me: "Yes. A glass of plum wine and a pot of tea."
Waitress: "You want hot tea?"
Me: "Yes. I want hot tea."
Waitress: "So you want plum wine AND hot tea?"

It finally occurred to me that it is apparently weird to want a glass of wine and a pot of hot tea. This poor lady gave me the strangest look, and gave my friend the same look when she showed up and ordered the same thing (she got a different tea- the orange creamsicle tea, which was delish). For the record, the combination of a glass of wine and a pot of tea is nothing short of a miracle cure when you've had a horrible day.

So, when you want to run away screaming, even though the online reviews from people who are really into sushi aren't that great, I think you should try this place. The plum wine was excellent, the tea pretty good, and I liked the food. Plus, if you're there when it's nice enough to sit on the patio, the sunset is amazing. By the end of the night, you'll be empowered to go home, give that sweet little ~~terrorist~~ girl a big hug, then give your ~~ball and chain~~ great husband a big smooch and thank him for letting you have such a nice evening.

Thanksgiving Thursday: Mary

2011-09-01T08:00:00.001-06:00

One of my grandmas died yesterday. It makes me sad, because she lived in Florida, so I didn't get to see her very often. On one hand, I'm pretty lucky because I've got a lot of grandmas- marriages and divorces amongst grandparents and parents will do that for you. On the other hand, that's just one more special person to lose.

The last time I saw Mary, last summer. We're having lunch for my dad's birthday. She's the one on the end, on the right, next to me.

But instead of being sad about Mary's death, I want to be thankful for the time I had with her. Remembering the little things that I loved about her. One of the crazy things I hate about not living on the East Coast is that we don't have Dunkin Donuts. Not because they have the best donuts in the world (I know, because I had one on my last visit), but because of the memory of spending time at my dad's house, and some evenings, Mary and Pete would come by with a box of Dunkin Donuts and we'd sit and have coffee, eating our Dunkin Donuts. I always felt so special and grownup because we got to have coffee and donuts.

I also loved their old house in Bernardsville, NJ. It was one of my favorite places to go, and I loved all the wonderful times we had together there. I'd spend hours in the basement, making up songs on their piano, or upstairs in Laurie's room (who has also passed. I miss her) playing Barbies.

Of course, I also loved their house in Florida, and one of my most memorable times was having Thanksgiving with them in Florida. I loved that she had such a variety of food- traditional Thanksgiving fare, Italian food, and German food. YUM! They also passed around a liqueur, peach brandy, I think, and she let me have just a taste. Which made me feel ridiculously grown up, and I'll never forget that.

She also gave me a doll- I still have her, and her name is blue dot. I remember her laughing and saying what a ridiculous name it was, but the name stuck. Blue dot was one of my closest companions for a long time, and I always thought I'd give her to my girls someday, but so far, I've been afraid that they won't love her as much as I did, so she's still in my closet, waiting for the right time.

So today, I hope you think about the special people you're thankful for. And be thankful and blessed for the time you had with them.

The Liebster Blog Award

2011-08-31T12:54:00.000-06:00

My friend Megan gave me this award, and since I've been a blog slacker lately, I guess this is as good of a jump start as any to getting back to it.

Here's my problem, though. (Um, I'm a slacker?) All the blogs I like to follow and read have loads of followers, and since the whole point is to spread the love to someone who has less than 200 followers, I don't know who to give the award to. Soo...

If you have an interesting blog, and you'd like a Liebster, then let me know. I'll go read your blog, pass on the love, and then I'll tell my friends all about it.

If I have just awarded you The Liebster, here are the rules:

Thank the person who gave you the award, and link back to them.
Give The Liebster Award to five bloggers, and let them know in a comment on their blog.
Copy and paste the award to your blog.
Have faith your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.
Have blogging fun!

Thanksgiving Thursday

2011-08-18T12:22:00.000-06:00

Because I seem to be starting all kinds of new themes, well, okay, just my Tuesday Tea posts, I want to do something special on Thursdays as well. Our moms group at church just finished reading a book, which I won't mention, because I actually did not like the book. However, it, as well as a couple others I've been reading lately, have talked a lot about the importance of being thankful and expressing that thankfulness.

So I decided, rather than just doing it privately, which I am doing, I also want the public accountability on my blog where I can express my thankfulness and be reminded, even in the worst times, we can choose to be thankful.

Pretty ironic for this to be the inaugural blog, because today hasn't been a great day. Last night, just before bed, the dog decided to pee on the bed for no apparent reason. So we had to strip the bed and hunt for a spare set of sheets. Pretty crazy that we only have one set of sheets for our bed, but that's what we have. I wash them and put them on all in the same day. Anyway, it took forever, and every time I tried dozing off, I'd smell more dog pee, and find one more thing I needed to clean up. I finally got to sleep, and then WHAM! Hubby's phone rings at 3 a.m. There was an emergency at work and they needed him to come in. I tossed and turned until I gave up at 6, fighting a horrible headache that still lingers.

So here I am, in the midst of this pain fog, thinking about being thankful, and I realized all the things, even with this bad situation, I can be thankful for:
1. Being up so early, I was able to print my boarding pass for my girl's weekend and get a decent spot.
2. Hubby is looking at working a 14 hour day, bringing in much needed money, when he wasn't even sure he'd have more than a couple hours' worth of work today.
3. In the quiet before the kids woke up, I got a lot of laundry done.
4. Our bedding is now clean. And I love sleeping on clean sheets.
5. I got to sit on the patio and watch a butterfly flit by.
6. My little girls understand that mommy has a headache and are giving me the space I need.
7. I am almost completely packed for my trip, so I can go to bed early tonight.
8. My piles of laundry remind me of the abundance we have.
9. The crisp taste of my water with lime is so refreshing.
10. The birds chirping in my back yard are relaxing and peaceful.

What are you thankful for today?

Bumper Stickers

2011-08-17T12:09:00.000-06:00

I spent 30 minutes yesterday behind a car with what, in my opinion, was a very offensive bumper sticker. I've seen bumper stickers like it, and it got me to thinking about all of the bumper stickers I see out there. So many of them are geared toward offending or attacking someone else.

For example, the popular bumper sticker proclaiming that "My dog is smarter than your honor student."

My question is why. Why do people need to put down someone else's pride in their child? Why do we need to attack other people's religious views? Or political views? Will driving past someone with a "NObama" bumper stinker alter the way I vote? I've never read a bumper sticker that made me question my religion. Actually, the only thing a bumper sticker has made me question is the person who thought that putting on that bumper sticker was a good idea.

One of my friends, Lucille Zimmerman, is a counselor, and I've gotten to critique her book (which is fantastic, and I can't wait until she sells!). She is always asking a question that I've learned to ask in situations like this. "What does this tell me about the other person?"

So as I followed this couple with the offensive bumper stickers, I started to ask myself that question. What does those bumper stickers tell me about these people? First of all, one of them said something about how they weren't inconsiderate, they just didn't care. Wow. What a sad thing to say about oneself, don't you think? And then of course, there were the ignorant religion attacking bumper stickers. Again, as I thought about what it said about these people, I realized that they must not have any hope, and combined with their not caring, they probably didn't really have a whole lot of good in their lives. Instead of being angry, I kind of felt bad for them. And even though knowing it would have probably offended these people, I prayed for them.

Then there was the woman driving around with very sexually explicit bumper stickers. Again, I thought about what they said about her. Not just on the surface, but about what kind of deep wounds must she have that made her feel like she needed every human being who drove past to know exactly how much sex you like, and what thing you're willing to do. I was glad my kids didn't notice or ask me what those words meant, but I knew what those bumper stickers meant. The woman was a broken woman who felt that the only way to prove her strength was to shout out a lot of things that only proved how broken she was.

And sure, there are the positive bumper stickers, like the ones about our families, or how we love our favorite teams, or some of our favorite hobbies, or places to visit? But you know what? I'd rather sit down and have a conversation with you so that we can know these things about each other.

The problem with bumper stickers is that they are just one more piece of the passive aggressive communication prevalent in our society. I won't have a conversation with you about your religion, but I will denigrate it to anyone who drives by. I'm not willing to have an intelligent political discussion with you, but I will slander your favorite candidate. Sex? Well, I'm not going to take the time to get to know a member of the opposite gender and know them as person, instead, I'm going to tell the world how little I respect them. Probably because I'm too insecure to allow myself to be vulnerable in a real relationship.

I don't have a bumper sticker on my car. Although I do have a lovely Dora the Explorer sticker on one of my windows from when a disobedient little girl stuck it there. I can't find a way to get it off without damaging the coating. I imagine what that says about me is that I'm a mom, and just like every other mom, I have kids who don't always listen as they should. And that I don't have the money to take it in to a professional to fix it.

But what I really hope my lack of bumper stickers says about me is that I'd rather have a conversation with you. I'd like to get to know you. And I'd like you to get to know me.

What do your bumper stickers say about you?

Tuesday Tea Time: The Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse

2011-08-16T15:04:00.000-06:00

Two little BFFs in front of the teahouse

Finally! Back to Colorado. Seriously, if I could travel the world doing nothing but having tea, I would. Fortunately, Colorado has some wonderful tea places, and I get to share my favorites with you.

Today's teahouse is the Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse.

This amazing place was created out of a mission to better unite Boulder to its sister city in Tajikistan. The whole story can be found here on the teahouse's website. I love that this teahouse represents a culture that we Americans do not typically associate with tea. Yet, as you'll see by reading their website, tea is an important piece of the culture in Central Asia. So it makes me a little sad that most of our teahouses are British when so many of the cultures of the world have such important cultural ties to tea.

Which is why this place was so amazing.

I brought my BFF and our little girls, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the accommodations for kids to be very kid-friendly. Many times, tea places see little girls come bouncing in, and they give you the stern look of doom that makes you wonder why you'd dare bring children to cross their sacred threshold. Not so here. I found the children's menu to be very good (The chicken tenders are grilled, not fried!!) and they even had recommendations for teas that children would like. Except mine, of course, who have refined palates, and drink the good stuff.


Tea menu and regular menu

Teas... um.... yes. They have over 100 teas, and everything we had was quite good. The White Pear Tarte Green tea (which you can order on their website) was, in a word, um, no, you can't possibly give a word to describe how delicious it was. The little girls liked the Fairytale Dreams tea. I didn't have any because I am allergic to chamomile. My big girl, who loves the good stuff, had the Silver Dragon, because I wouldn't let her have her standby, Dragonwell. It was also delicious. We had another tea, but I didn't see it on the online menu, and I can't remember its name. It was also very good.

But the best part was the tea cocktails. Um, yes. Tea AND alcohol, and it was divine. I had some kind of tea mojito, and it was AMAZING. Sara had a gin and tea concoction, which was good, but strong. My word of warning here is that these drinks will knock you flat. We hung around longer than usual simply because I needed the time to be okay to drive home. And yes, I only had one. Plus lunch, plus a couple of pots of tea, plus water.

The food was also excellent. I loved the healthy choices for the kids. If your kids like the typical restaurant junky kids meal food, they will be disappointed. The other two kids had pizza, which looked homemade, and looked nothing like the flying disks you pull out of a freezer. The kids and I thought they were delicious. I had the lamb kubideh, which was really good. My kids also tried some and liked it. My BFF also thought her meal was great- she had the hummus plate and Russian beet salad. As a side note, some friends have been there for breakfast, and they thought the breakfast was excellent as well.

As far as going back, um, yes! We definitely want to go back, and for us, the only drawback is that it's about an hour away, so getting there takes some planning. If you are in the Denver/Boulder area and love tea, this is a place you won't want to miss!

Perfect cup of tea!

How can I resist?

2011-08-15T10:09:00.000-06:00

This is my little cowgirl. I'm not much on cow-anything, and I really hate the smell of being around horses, cows, and pretty much any barnyard animal. If you'd have told me that I'd be spending my days outside an arena, I'd have told you that you were nuts. But here I am. I still think the animals stink. I still need a ton of allergy medication to hang out in a barn. However...

Just look at that smile.

My sweet cowgirl loves horses. On riding day, she wakes up with a smile that doesn't quit until she goes to bed.

So even though this horse thing is definitely not my thing, I can't resist the joy of a little girl doing what she loves. I may not be a cowgirl, but I am a cowgirl's mama.

Books, happy places, and libraries

2011-08-12T09:00:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I shared my happy place- the library.

One of my earliest happy place memories is of going to the library. I loved going to the library more than anyplace else. For me, that magical place was the town library in Fruita, CO, which has since been moved at least twice to less romantic buildings than the tiny bit of heaven I used to love. Even now, I can still remember the old building smell combined with the old book smell.

I get into debates with people about keeping books. I am a book keeper. Even as a kid, I would put numbered masking tape stickers on my books (and yes, I still have some of them. My mom made me get rid of some, though, and I am still bitter about that. NEVER separate a book lover from her books!). My dream always has been to have a ginormous library.

I can't tell you why, because I honestly don't know. Maybe it's because I love books so much. Maybe it's because I've had so many happy times in libraries. For me, there is no greater thrill than digging through stacks of books until you find the perfect story to spend an afternoon with.

I'm sure there are probably deeper psychological reasons, like books do not judge you, and they can take you to all sorts of places you can never go otherwise.

But there is also something else, something I see in my daughters, and I try so hard not to squelch that. It's this curiosity, of wanting to know more, and of wanting to dig beyond the surface. I can't take my 7yo anywhere without her asking questions like, "mom, why do you think that man is riding a pink bike? Doesn't he know pink is a girl color?" And then listening to her go on for thirty minutes about all the reasons why this man might choose to ride a pink bike. I like knowing those things too. I like learning about other civilizations, people who lived in different times, and just about anything I never knew until I picked up a book.

So for me, being in a library filled with books is the ultimate dream come true. I am happiest surrounded by books, who are the most comforting of friends. Of course, it is also wonderful when I am joined by fellow book lovers. Nerdy as it seems, some of my most perfect days with human friends have been when we're all in the same room, lost in our own worlds, enjoying good books.

Another dangerous thing to have in my head...

2011-08-11T09:00:00.001-06:00

I give you Bookshelf P**n. Fill in the blanks yourself, because I don't want spammers bugging me. Even though they probably will anyway. Jerks. They really need new hobbies.

Anyway, it's really been a craptastical week. Started out amazing, but I just keep getting sucked under with a lot of ick. So, let's all go to my happy place, places filled with books! One day, I'll get to design my very own happy book place, and until then, let's use these for inspiration.

But because I am truly in a heinous mood and need to go to lots of happy places, here are some other inspirations for you:

Colorado Library Designer, Snowdon & Hopkins. I'd probably use these guys. I particularly like the first picture at the top.

Of course, my dream library is the library in the movie My Fair Lady (best movie of all time!). I couldn't find any specific pics of it, so if you have one, please send it to me. As a close second, if you read this blog post and scroll down, you can see the inspiration for it. Actually, that whole blog is really what I'd like to refer to as library crack, and much better than the site at the top of my blog post.

Now it's your turn- what's your dream library?

Resting her mouth

2011-08-10T11:26:00.000-06:00

Some days, my 7yo comes up with the funniest things, and because she's so sensitive, if I laugh in her presence, her feelings get really hurt, and it becomes a horrendous drama. So I'm sharing and laughing here, because it was so darn cute. Although... boy, with this girl's logic, I will so be in trouble when she gets older.

Last night's car ride home featured this gem, which included a great deal of sibling bickering, wailing from 7yo because I wasn't listening to her, and my personal favorite, 7yo being really mad at me for interrupting one of her soliloquys when I was talking myself through a really confusing construction zone, trying to figure out where I needed to be.

7yo: MOM! I was talking and you rudely interrupted. (Yes, we have been discussing that interrupting is rude.)

Me: Honey, I apologize for interrupting. We're in a dangerous construction zone that's not well marked, and I'm trying to figure out where we need to be. So until we are in a safe place, I need you to be quiet so I can concentrate.

7yo: Well, if you're talking, it's not quiet.

Me: Sometimes talking to myself helps me concentrate.

7yo: It's boring not to talk.

Me: Would you rather be bored or in a car accident because you've distracted me from seeing where we're supposed to be? (picture cars zooming past you, then cutting you off because they've realized that their lane no longer exists)

7yo: Fine. I'll be quiet. But only because I don't want to be in a car accident.

(Pause for 30 seconds)
7yo: Ramble, ramble, ramble.

Me: You've been talking nonstop since we left for church. Since we're almost home, do you think you could rest your mouth and be quiet for a while?

7yo: But I'm not done talking yet.

Me: Mommy's really tired and her ears hurt. Please can we have just a little bit of quiet?

7yo: Fine. (Turns and makes sotto voce comment to her sister)

10yo: Stop picking on me!

Me to 7yo: What did you say to her? Can't you be nice to your sister?

7yo: I'm not going to answer you, because you said that I need to rest my mouth.

And this is the moment when I nearly lost it, having to try not to laugh, and maneuver through traffic, AND keep her sister from laughing all at the same time. Because, of course, that sweet little girl managed to only be quiet for 30 seconds before launching into ANOTHER long tale, and it took the threat of no frozen yogurt to finally get her to be quiet.

Tuesday Tea Time: A tea for every occasion

2011-08-09T10:31:00.000-06:00


Tea at Junior's.

With all the fancy teas and tea places I've been highlighting, it's only fair that I also highlight the old standby. Yes, I am talking about Lipton. As a tea lover with an overflowing cabinet, I have my share of luxurious teas. But there's also a time and place for Lipton. I never want to be such a tea snob that I turn up my nose at the tea offered me, no matter where I go. The only tea I won't drink is anything with chamomile, because I'm allergic to chamomile.

While I was in New York, if I wasn't at a restaurant specializing in tea, this is what I was offered. Still delicious, still satisfying, and enough to make everything right in the world, even if for that moment. I think that's the beauty of tea- versatile, and no matter what your budget is, or what restaurant you're in, you can find something to please your palate.

The best and worst of people

2011-08-08T09:00:00.002-06:00

As I mentioned in my blog about Elitch's, one of the things that struck me about the whole horrible day was how I saw such a contrast in the best and worst of people.

First off, I did want to mention that I did hear back from the staff. They were nice about it and apologized for our experience, although they were also really defensive in how they did what they could. I guess I can understand that they'd want to defend their actions, but I do hope that they will do more in the future to prevent it.

But that brings me back to what I've been pondering since it all happened- why are we all so focused on our needs beyond everyone else's? It bugs me that we're in such a "me-first" world. People who were so intent on getting their tickets before everyone else, even though there were plenty to go around, had no problem pushing and in some cases, stepping on others to get there. I can still picture this one woman. So aggressive, and did everything she could to put herself and her two young sons ahead of everyone else. Despite multiple people talking to her, trying to be reasonable, her answer was, "too bad."

I saw her a number of times throughout the day. She must've been on my radar or something, because in that crowd, it would have been hard to find anyone. Each time, she seemed to be perfectly happy and having a great time. And I had to wonder, how does she do it? How does she live with herself, knowing she'd hurt others on the way to getting to a good time? I also wondered about what kind of people her sons would grow up to be. Because if this woman can act like that over a concert, where she would have gotten tickets anyway had she just waited her turn, where else does this aggressive, me-first attitude come out?

I want to contrast this, though, with some great people we met. We spent a couple of hours in line with them. Nice people. Once the pushing started, I chose to hang back, because I knew we'd get tickets anyway, and it wasn't worth fighting to keep our places. In the melee, these people ended up ahead of us. Not a big deal, and I honestly didn't care. But they did. They spotted us and said, "hey, you guys were in front of us. Get up here." I keep thinking about them, because it would be so easy to focus on the negative from the day, and the nasty people. This family was a reminder to me that not everyone is out for themselves. I watched them help others in line, giving assistance to one of the moms who'd come alone with her children, and one of her children had gotten hurt. So the mom from the nice family went and got the injured child a band-aid. She understood that there are more important things than having the right place in line.

It made me stop and think about the things I make a big deal over or try to push my way ahead on. And you know, so many times when we think that what we want is more important than someone else, it just isn't. So I've been trying to be more intentional about asking myself that question lately. Am I putting myself ahead of others, and is putting myself ahead worth it?

I keep thinking about Philippians 2:3-4 "3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not perfect at following Paul's command here. Okay, I fail a lot. But as I think about the time we spent in that crowd, of some of the situations I've dealt with lately, I've thought about how differently it would have turned out had that verse been the guiding principle. And I also wonder how different other situations in my life would look if I continue working on the same.

What about you? Are you good at putting others first? How do you balance putting others first and taking care of yourself?

But also happy moments

2011-08-05T09:00:00.001-06:00

Little girl BFFs (and one big girl)

Mommy BFFs!

I'd be remiss if I didn't also talk about the fact that in spite of the horrible experience we had at the park, the girls had a great time. I never imagined I'd be the cool mom who stood in line for hours to get her kids into a concert, but I did, and I hope that the good memories of the day will outweigh the bad. I made arrangements with my BFF to bring her daughter (my daughter's BFF) so that we could experience it together. I'm so glad I had her there with me. If I had to have a rough day, I'm glad I walked through it with her.

Horrible day at Elitch Gardens

2011-08-04T09:00:00.002-06:00

As I mentioned in a previous post, we had a really icky day at Elitch Gardens for the Big Time Rush concert. Instead of totally rehashing it, I'm just going to post the letter I sent to their management as well as the parent company. Basically, it was a horrible experience, and I do not recommend going to any of their concerts until they improve how they do things.

Dear Elitch Gardens Managers,

I am writing to express my extreme disappointment over the events that happened on the day of the Big Time Rush concert on Sunday, July 31^st.

Our family planned ahead, and when we called several days before the event, we were told that people begin lining up as early as 7am, and we were advised that if we wanted tickets, we should get there early. So we did. We arrived at 7:30 am and got in line with a number of other people. We didn't mind, and we hoped it would be a fun experience for our children to make that sacrifice to see their favorite band.

Shortly before the doors opened, the crowd became very pushy. Several of the parents had arguments with newcomers who tried cutting in line. These people were reported to security, who merely shrugged and said there was nothing they could do. The arguments increased, and I was appalled at my children having to witness both the behavior and language. Once the doors opened, there was a mad rush to get in- people cut in line and pushed ahead, including the latecomers who had been fighting with the waiting parents. Several small children were trampled and injured. While none of the injuries appeared to require medical attention, it was frustrating that this happened in front of security, and despite complaints from the parents who had been waiting all morning, nothing was done.

While my own children were unharmed, they were terrified. When we finally got into the park, it was absolute chaos. There were no clear directions, no clear signs, or any indication of how wristbands were distributed. We once again were at the mercy of the pushy crowds who again endangered our children, shoving them, stepping on them, and not caring that there were small children present. One child in this crowd fainted, which I witnessed, and one of the nearby parents said it was the second child so far. No security was present, and as far as any of us could observe, no park staff intervened or offered assistance.

Because the staff were located at random spots handing out wristbands, there was no clear direction on where to go or how to obtain them. Our family ended up literally stuck at the stage with nowhere else to go. We were shoved into a potted tree, and despite my asking the people around us to please be careful, our words were ignored. This happened in full view of staff members, though I realize they were busy handing out wristbands. While there were supposedly rules about each person only getting one wristband, the staff arbitrarily applied that rule- there were young girls next to us already wearing wristbands who would be given several more for their friends (who were not present). When my ten year old managed to get one, and asked for one for her family (who were standing right behind her), she was told no by the same person who had just given a fistful of wristbands to someone already wearing one.

The point is not that we were worried we were not going to get a wristband. One of the people handing out wristbands (a man named Chris, whose name I only remember because the young ladies who kept getting multiple wristbands from him kept flirting with him and calling out his name), reassured the crowd a number of times that everyone present would get a wristband. The problem was not the idea of getting one, but there was no organized method of distributing them. The crowd was pushy, disorganized, and had no concern for the safety of others. There was no security in place to keep anyone safe.

Once we obtained our wristbands, we went to the water park and got settled in. We noticed several people putting aside wristbands for people who would be arriving later. Some of those people didn't arrive until much later in the day. Which was a shame, considering several of our other friends, who arrived at 9:30 were told all the wristbands had been given out. So much for the rule that only one wristband per person would be given out.

The park was crowded, mostly with people who had hoped to get into the concert but arrived too late. Many of them were not aware that all of the wristbands had been given out until after they went to the stadium and asked. The crowds were unbearable, and in many cases, were a safety hazard, particularly in the wave pool and pirate ship pool. There were not enough lifeguards, and again, children were injured. Fortunately, nothing that appeared life threatening, but do children have to go to the hospital for safety to matter? The lines for the ladies' room were never shorter than about 20 people. There were not enough places for people to sit in the water park, and many resorted to stashing their things alongside the pools. Which again, presented a safety hazard for people tripping and injuring themselves. It was clear to many of the people in the water park especially that you were over capacity and had made no arrangements for dealing with this level of crowd. I would like to think that this was due to poor planning, rather than Elitch's caring more about profits than people's safety.

The food services staff was equally unprepared for the crowds. We visited at least 5 different food and beverage vendors throughout the day. Each one of them was out of something. It was very disappointing to not be able to have our first choice of food or drink all day long. One station did not have Dr. Pepper, another did not have hot dogs, one was out of the flavor of Dipping Dots my daughter wanted. We went to one place, and when I ordered a margarita (at 5pm), was told that they hadn't turned on the machine today and if we wanted one, we'd have to go to a place at the other end of the park. The last time we were at the park, we had hot dog and hamburger sliders with different toppings that were delicious. This time, there were no toppings, and the food was overcooked. The staff didn't seem to care, and acted as though it was normal to not have adequate food and beverages. They treated us as though it was an imposition to serve us. When my husband asked for a to go box so we could eat our dinner in line for the concert, we were given a large plastic bag, even though several others at the concert had to go boxes. One employee was observed, while wearing food prep gloves, picking up trash from the floor, then going to prepare food. In another food stand, an employee was trying to manage the crowd (a line of about 15 people) by herself while also having to go to another stand to get a customer a beer. She didn't look old enough to be serving alcohol, and was clearly stressed at having to deal with all of it alone. She did go get the beer, but it was at the expense of all the waiting customers. Based on what my friend observed, several health code violations existed, which didn't seem to be of any consequence to the employees. Our joke for the day became that the only requirement to work in the park was that the person was breathing.

Concert time was the first we saw security, other than when we first entered the park. I was pleased to see them directing people to the end of the line and they had created a makeshift but semi orderly system for getting people into the concert. Staff members were walking along the line to make sure everything was going smoothly and to answer questions. What a difference this would have made had this been in place that morning with park entrance and wristband distribution. We managed to talk to one woman, whose badge indicated she was some sort of marketing manager (I don't remember the name or specific title). My friend, who has an extensive retail event background, asked what the plan was for next time. The woman asked her what she meant. My friend explained about the crowds this morning. The woman's response was that there was nothing they could do.

Sadly, the “there's nothing we can do” response seems to be the way everyone in your park manages things. There was plenty that could have been done in the morning to have prevented the crowd issues- increased security, distinct lines, stanchions, clear directions and instructions, and more employees interacting with the guests. On the rides, there were signs stating that cutting in line would be grounds for ejection from the park and/or revocation of season passes. Surely acting in an unsafe manner, cutting in line, and pushing to get into the park would be grounds for not admitting people.

I hope, as you read this, that you will pass my letter on to other staff and supervisors so that they can make better arrangements for future concerts. Many of the people in the crowd stated their intention to attend the Miranda Cosgrove concert. Will your team be better prepared for that day?

Our family will not be attending the Miranda Cosgrove show, and we are considering not renewing our season passes for next year. I don't feel that entertainment should come at the expense of safety. I'm not willing to be forced to buy overpriced food (since we can't bring our own in) that is prepared without following health code and is not as advertised. It is my sincere hope that you use this as a learning tool and improve upon your service, as there is much room for improvement.

Sincerely,

How about a massage?

2011-08-03T16:41:00.000-06:00

The vet says he has a hurt back. At one point, the word massage got tossed into the conversation. Which would be a nice thing except I want to know where mine is!!

Tuesday Tea Time: The Palm Court at the Plaza Hotel

2011-08-02T00:14:00.000-06:00

Yes, darlings!! It is time!! To tell you all of the mah-velous time we had at the Plaza Hotel.


Left from bottom: Kate Hewitt, Caroline Godin, Winnie Griggs. Right from bottom: Laura Marie Altom, Margaret Daley, Camy Tang, Me.

Some of my wonderful, dearest friends (and some brand-new BFFs) planned this day because we love tea, and we love being fancy, and well, we also love being together. Seriously, there is no greater joy than being at a tea table with some of your very favorite people in the world. And it also helps to do it at the Plaza.

One of the first things we discovered, thanks to our uber-spotter, Laura Marie Altom, was that Kirstie Alley was having tea at a nearby table. We all agreed she looked great. Laura tweeted about it, and Kirstie tweeted back, so now we all can bask in our momentary brush with famousness. Actually, Kirstie should have been tweeting about her brush with famousness because we had so many famous authors at that table. It reminds me just how blessed I am. When I was a little girl, reading all those books, I never imagined I'd be lucky enough to meet one author, let alone have so many authors I call my friends. Maybe it's nerdy of me, but I still sometimes have to pinch myself. No offense to Kirstie, but I get more starstruck over meeting some of these amazing authors.

So... on to the tea... I decided to be brave and try new things, so I ordered The Classic, which was delicious and featured two delicacies I'd never tried before- Quail Egg Salad (it was okay, I didn't hate it, but I wouldn't do it again) and a sandwich with Sturgeon Caviar. I really liked the caviar. :) Actually, everything was delicious, though I would like to brag on myself a little and say that I like my homemade lemon curd better than theirs. The dessert was also great, and I was only sorry that I didn't have enough room for it all.

For their tea, I went with their Afternoon Tea. After all, you can't go to afternoon tea and not have the signature blend, right? And because it's so fancy, here's the description they gave: "Rich and moody off the nose, it opens with malty astringency and finishes with hints of oak cask and a dusting of delicate citrus." Um, I didn't get ALL that, but it was still good. Not good enough that I had to bring some home, mind you, but I'd drink it again.

Overall, it was a great experience. Definitely worth doing when you go to New York. One of the "must-experience" kind of things. Be sure to make a reservation, as I noticed when we were there, the hostess turned away people who didn't have one. As for the price, well, there's our receipt to show you... yeah, it was expensive. BUT, honestly, compared to the prices we paid for other meals in New York, I didn't think it outrageously so, and certainly, it was worth it.

The only sad thing about this wonderful tea excursion is that it was the very last one of our New York trip. You know, business stuff and all that taking precedence. The good news is that RWA is back at the same place in 2015, so if I don't make it back before then, you'll know where to find me July 2015. Ouch. That's a long time to wait for another New York tea adventure.

Crazy days

2011-08-01T11:35:00.000-06:00

Last week was nuts, and those of you who follow what I do for work know that we had a MAJOR (and very successful) event, so I was barely keeping my head above water. We won't discuss the emails I still must reply to. (If I owe you an email, I am very very sorry, I'm working on it today, promise!)

Yesterday, though, and what I really want to blog about, was INSANE. My BFF and I took our little girls to see a Big Time Rush concert. Never, in a million years did I think I'd be the cool mom who stands in line two hours early to get her kids in to see a show. But there we were, with some of the other cool moms and dads, and we had an interesting time... To use George Bush's much as of recently under-appreciated term, FUBAR does not come close to covering it. For the record, it was not Big Time Rush's fault. Elitch Gardens completely failed to plan properly for this event, and it showed. I'm going to be writing them a letter explaining exactly how and why they messed up, and then I'll post something here. Partially because I am sooo disappointed in a company that makes its money off of entertaining people (and did you get that I think they did a LOUSY job?), but also because I learned a lot of interesting things about people and human nature. In some ways, I experienced the absolute worst of people, but I also met some really neat people too.

So how's your week been?

Today's tea post

2011-07-26T09:57:00.001-06:00

Yesterday was a really bad day. The kind of day where everything that could possibly go wrong did, and left me feeling rather overwhelmed. And I could have either posted about tea, or gone to bed. I decided to go to bed because I had to wake up insanely early for today's day of fun.

Last night I went to bed feeling really low and forced myself to count my blessings. Today, I feel so blessed. I'm sitting at a beautiful hotel with a group of amazing friends after having a long drive with conversation that blessed my socks off. None of the hard circumstances from yesterday have changed. But I am so blessed that I am dealing with those circumstances surrounded by some wonderful people. I was thinking about how amazing it is because I didn't have enough room on my Twitter to list every single person here. Which is sooo cool and so wonderful.

So I'm not at a fancy tea place today. Not blogging about a cool place to go get tea, even though the Broadmoor is a very cool place to be. It's just me, with a mug from home and bag of the first tea I could grab, and really cool people. Because sometimes, the enjoyment of tea isn't about what kind of tea you're drinking, or where you're drinking it, but WHO you're drinking it with.

And I love that I can drink it with these friends.

Because I apparently have too much time on my hands...

2011-07-21T08:00:00.001-06:00

Look what I found!! An online tea community where I can track the tea I drink, have, and want... Steepster. This could either be a really good thing or a really bad thing. I think keeping track of my tea just may be as dangerous as trying to keep track of my books.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Or join me. ;)

My profile on Steepster.

Vegan(ish)?

2011-07-20T08:00:00.000-06:00

While at RWA, one of my friends was telling me about her decision to go mostly vegan. Which I found quite fascinating, because you tend to think of vegans as um, well, weirdos. Sorry to all you vegans. Anyway, my friend said that the idea came from a book she read, and I can't remember the name, but she said that the book claimed that if every family went vegan only for the meals they had at home, we would end world hunger. They could eat whatever they wanted eating out, but at home, they had to be vegan.

Now, if you know my family, you know that would never work. What am I saying? That would never work for me. I LIKE meat- sometimes.

But I can't stop thinking about this idea, because I am concerned about world hunger. And I readily admit that just changing my family's food habits isn't going to be enough to change the world. But it's something, right?

So now I'm thinking that maybe we'll do vegan one night a week. We can handle that, right?

But here's my issue: I hate tofu. It's completely a texture issue for me, and I don't care how many times I've tried it, I hate it. And my family doesn't like it, either. I'm also not fond of Indian food, which seems to be the majority of vegan recipes. I've been looking at different vegan recipes, and so far, I'm not finding anything my family will eat.

Should I just hang up the towel my great vegan idea? Or is there hope for a girl who wants to try it?

Tuesday Tea Time: Harney & Sons

2011-07-19T08:00:00.003-06:00

Me, Camy, Emily

On the Sunday we were in New York, Camy and I got to go to TWO tea places. Our afternoon stop was at Harney & Sons. Yes, it was a tea heaven kind of day. And let me tell you, a day at Harney & Sons is definitely tea heaven. One of my all-time favorite teas is their Hot Cinnamon Spice tea. So I was excited to find out from Emily Rodmell that they have a store in SoHo.

Since Emily is the one who told us about this wonderful place, we invited her to join us. Due to our earlier mishap in finding the church and needing to get poor Fiona back to the hotel safely with our confused directions, we ended up getting to the shop late, but fortunately in time to catch Emily. Note to future tea travelers: if you're meeting someone in a strange city, make sure you have a way to get in touch with them if you have navigational issues.

The Menu. All tea.

So... the most important thing you need to know about this wonderful place is the tea selection. WOW!! I was in love and had a really hard time trying to decide which one to get. I finally settled on the Lapsang Souchong. I'd heard from Deanna Raybourn that it's a great tea (not specifically Harney's, but just in general), and I'd never tried it. I decided that since I'd gone with an old faithful earlier, I tried it.

I learned that I'm not a fan of Lapsang Souchong. I personally don't like the smoky flavor, so I don't think I will do that one again. It's a flavor thing, not the fault of my good friend Mr. Harney. (Okay, so I don't know him. But I'd love to be his BFF.)

LOVED this cup. I want it!

I did buy some other tea to bring home. First, because you know I had to, I bought my favorite, Hot Cinnamon Spice, and then, since I am trying new things, I bought two others: Tower of London Blend, which is AMAZING and I am so sad that I didn't buy more; and Green Tea with Coconut & Ginger, which is also amazing and I highly recommend it iced. I have made several pitchers of the iced Green Tea with Coconut & Ginger- I even served it to company and they loved it.

Stop by in SoHo

As for the experience at the tea shop itself- the staff was lovely, and it was such a pleasant experience for us. Emily said that she goes there often with a friend, and you could tell it was one of those places where they know the regulars. Very friendly, and if I lived nearby, I would spend a lot of time there. It's definitely on my list of places to return to when I go back.

The best news about this tea review is that you can enjoy these teas without having to go to New York. (Though I highly recommend taking the trip.) Their teas are available on the website (Thank God, because I am already running low. My vulture children have been drinking it all. This is what happens when you teach your children to like good tea. They drink all of yours!)

And, if I may share the worst news, it is about the career I should have had, and wish somehow I could still have. Becoming a tea buyer. Wow!! You've got to check out the Harney travel blog. I seriously need that job. I have no idea how to do it, because at least in this case, your last name needs to be Harney, but wow, oh wow. I would sell my soul, er, well, how about my second born? to do this! Seriously, I now have on my travel goal list to go on some kind of tea tour and get up close and personal with tea like this. Super cool!

Giving myself a break

2011-07-18T12:40:00.000-06:00

I spent the weekend being incredibly self-indulgent. I wrote. And I wrote. And I wrote.

I did not do chores. I did not weed my garden. I did not work on my book cataloging project.

I wrote.

Which doesn't seem like a break, except that for me, writing tends to be something I do in snippets of stolen time, and I spend a lot of my other time wishing I could do it. And this weekend, I said, "phooey. Everything else can wait. I'm writing."

So I did. When I wanted to take a break from writing, I caught up on work, I watched TV, I played a few games. But mostly, I wrote.

Sunday evening, I had a mini crisis in character, because I thought that with all of my self-indulgence, I should really take the time off and have a Sabbath. But then I felt guilty, because even though some people would see writing as work, for me, it was my rest, my relaxation, and I'd been doing it all weekend. So I fired up my hyper drive, and got madly productive, catching up on projects that needed to be caught up on, and at 10pm on Sunday, I started looking for more things to do.

Which is when I smacked myself and said, "wait a second. I'm okay on all the have-tos. Yes, there are more, but there will always be more. They never end."

I could have gone to bed, but I wasn't really tired. Instead, I grabbed a book I've been wanting to read for a while now. Not a have-to book, not market research, not something for work. I usually want to read those too, but this time, I deliberately chose a book that I wanted to read only for the fact that I wanted to read it.

It was a great book, and today, I am feeling more refreshed than ever. Sometimes we feel guilty for ignoring the have-tos in favor of the want-tos, but my time of indulging my want-tos has made today's have-tos get done more quickly and more efficiently than ever.

So today, give yourself a break. Find a want-to and do it. Not because you have to, but because you want to. What's on your want-to list?

The almost not quite but still scary day

2011-07-15T11:12:00.002-06:00

We went to Water World yesterday. There are no pictures, something you should all be thankful for. No one wants to see me in a bathing suit. Except maybe hubby.

Hubby's cousin invited us to go with her- she doesn't have small children anymore, but she loves riding water slides. So she called me up and asked to take us. And of course, I said yes. A decision I regretted the moment she started talking about the crazy rides she planned on taking us on. *gulp* I am not the adventurous sort. At least in terms of going on scary rides, heights, things that spin, and pretty much anything you'd find at an amusement park. Let's put it this way- "It's a small world" is my favorite ride- EVER.

However, God gifted us with two little daredevils. An important rite of passage in our family has been when our girls are tall enough to ride rollercoasters. Me, I'm clinging to the fact that my littlest is still not tall enough (barely) to ride. Because she's my excuse not to go. You know, "sorry, I couldn't possibly, I need to stay with the little one." However, she's inching taller and each year, is able to ride scarier and scarier rides.

So I find myself doing more daring things, riding scary(ish) rides, and trying to encourage my girls to be brave where I am not.

Back to the water park. The kids wanted to start off with a scary, wedgie-inducing ride that I knew would have me completely freaking out, but I'd have to do it or else the little one couldn't go. Fortunately, our cousin decided that she wanted to see how well the kids did on less scary rides because she'd never seen them swim before. PHEW! That bullet dodged.

We rode a number of rides, all the while planning on when we'd do the scary ones. They laughed at my love for the lazy river, but after lunch, went on anyway. Which really meant I owed it to them to do the scary ones, right? We passed one I'd rode at another park about a year ago. Another ride I'd prefer not to do, but have done multiple times because the little one needed me with her. So even though I HATE this slide, I'd resigned myself to doing it and all the other scary slides. The kids talked about riding it, but then they saw THE BIG ONE. I'm talking death-defying, scary, I don't know why they have this stupid slide, and why millions of people haven't DIED on it, but I'm sure I will be the first. So we headed toward it.

Which was when the skies got dark, the clouds rolled in, and little raindrops began falling. We decided to let the little one ride a kiddie slide to see if the storm would blow over. We discovered that the kiddie pool is thousands of degrees warmer than the other pools, which made me and the little one want to stay there because it had gotten a lot colder all of a sudden. Our cousin and older daughter were still plotting about riding THE BIG ONE.

And then we saw it. Lightning streaking across the sky, which caused the lifeguard whistles to shriek the blessed sound- everyone out of the water.

We went back to our covered area to wait out the storm. An hour later, the storm had not subsided, they closed the park, and we went home bearing rain checks for another day of fun.

Bullet dodged.

I had a great day, despite being nervous about all the scary rides to come, and I didn't have to go on a single ride I didn't want to. That said, we have in our possession passes to go on another day. And knowing my kids, I'm not sure I'm going to get so lucky next time.

How do you deal with having kids who need you to do things that scare you?

Tuesday Tea Time: Tea & Sympathy

2011-07-12T23:36:00.001-06:00

I love tea! And in honor of my good friend Allie Pleiter, who has an amazing knitting blog called Destiknitions, featuring all of the cool knitting places she visits on her trips, I'm going to celebrate and highlight all the great tea shops I visit.

Tea & Sympathy

During my New York trip, I had an amazing time visiting all sorts of wonderful tea places. Today's tea place is a wonderful spot called Tea & Sympathy. Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't tell the story of how we actually found this little gem.


Danica, Fiona, Camy

I was with my dear friend, Camy Tang, another tea aficionado, and Fiona Harper, on our way to attend a friend's church. Yes, sometimes we go to church during writing conferences. Anyway, Camy had put the address into her iPhone wrong, so we ended up in the wrong part of town, and had to adjust. Our adjusted directions took us right past this tea shop and both Camy and I gushed over how cute it was. Since we were already late to church, it was tempting to stop, but I was determined to get to church because we had set that goal, and I do not miss goals. We made a vow to stop on the way back from church. And we did.

What was so great about going to this tea place is that Fiona is from England. She was so excited to be able to have a real taste of home- something she wasn't anticipating. I should add that she gave her thumbs up. :)

Note the bacon behind the sausage

As for me... all I have to say is how have I lived my life without eating the exquisite concoction known as bacon? Not the bacon we get here in the States, but real English bacon. I had a wonderful time in church, but man, oh man, the truly spiritual experience came from eating that bacon.


TEA!

The tea- I had the Earl Grey. Earl is one of the few boyfriends hubby approves of my having. In fact, he quite insists upon it. Earl is my standby whenever I don't know what to order or I'm overwhelmed, or I just need some comfort. In this case, I was absolutely parched and starving, and I didn't want to try anything new. Now, they say it's their special blend. Personally, I thought it was a little weak. I don't know if it was the blend or if they brew weaker tea. I like mine the way I like my men, burly, strong, and memorable. At least when I'm talking about my boyfriend the Earl. Camy and Fiona had the English Breakfast, and they enjoyed it.

Super tiny but cute!

That said, the food more than made up for it, and when I head back to the Big Apple, it's on my list of places to visit. I'll try a different blend of tea, because what I had wasn't bad, but I'm always eager to explore other varieties.

The decor was absolutely incredible, very quaint and tiny. Definitely a tight fit. But well worth it.

The outside of the church

Inside- photos don't do it justice

So if you're in the area, go! And, if you're there on a Sunday, visit Christ Church, which holds services only a few blocks away. They meet in a Seventh Day Adventist church, which is absolutely beautiful and has quite the history. I wish we could have spent more time just exploring the church building. Aside from the building, the teaching was wonderful, and the people were very friendly. Definitely the kind of church home I'd want if I lived in New York. Even if you don't live there, it's still a wonderful environment for visit.

I'm not sure which experience you'll find more spiritual, because both were quite excellent.

Peaceful patio day

2011-07-11T13:21:00.000-06:00

I'm working, really I am... But I'm so thoroughly enjoying myself that it doesn't feel like work.

Since the arrival of spring, I've been eagerly anticipating working on my back patio. The problem is that it's been a total mess. Over the winter, if hubby didn't know where to put something and needed to keep it dry, he stashed it on the patio. Which led to a very big mess. For whatever reason, I don't work well in a messy environment. So I've looked longingly at the patio, given hubby lots of not-so-subtle hints about wanting it cleaned off, and... waited.

Last week, I was talking with my FIL about having a family barbecue, which he wanted to do, but with all of his travel and his house being under construction, couldn't host. And so... I volunteered. Which meant, of course, that I had the perfect ~~excuse~~ reason for getting hubby to clean off our patio.

And so... here I am. Yesterday's barbecue was a success, and I am sitting at our patio table, listening to the fountain (that had been broken, but hubby fixed during the great patio cleanup), and am now happily working. I'm not bothered by the roll of thunder in the distance because it's a covered patio and we weathered the storm nicely yesterday. In fact, I'm looking forward to the soothing sound of the rain as I work in the fresh air. I'm so inspired that I know I'm going to get a lot done today.

What about you? What kind of working conditions do you need to feel productive?

Dude... where'd my month go

2011-07-05T12:34:00.000-06:00

Well, okay, I've never actually seen the whole movie, "Dude, where's my car," but I seriously feel as close to that way as I can about June. So here's the quick recap, then we'll be happily into July, and life will be good, yes?

I got a really bad summer cold, during which time I was very high on cold medicine. I didn't want to be sick for RWA, so I took EVERYTHING. But that left me floundering to do much more than work and sleep. The great thing about working from home is that I'd work for an hour, nap for an hour, work for an hour, and so on. But that left me unable to do half of what I'd hoped to accomplish before my trip, and now that I'm home, I have soooo much to do.

I got well just in time to go to RWA. I was really nervous about flying with a cold, but fortunately, I woke up the morning of my flight feeling great, and I haven't felt sick since. Yay me!

RWA... well, that is way too much for this blog post, so once I am caught up elsewhere, I will tell you all about it!

How do you prioritize? Tips would be greatly appreciated!

Meet me in St. Louis (again!)

2011-06-13T09:00:00.003-06:00

I know, I'm a dork, but I sing that song in my head every time St. Louis comes up. I can't help it. Meet Me in St. Louis is one of my all-time favorite movies. You've got to love anything featuring Judy Garland and The World's Fair. Plus, St. Louis is a great city, great place, and I loved going there for our ACFW spring(ish) board meeting to look at plans for this year's conference. As I have mentioned before, I am STILL bitter that there is no fair, BUT, with all the great conference stuff going on, I probably wouldn't have time. Okay, I know I wouldn't have time.

Speaking of not having time, there is one thing you MUST make time for. And that is to stop by the conference bookstore. This year, due to space restrictions and those silly people who write the fire code (yeah, okay, they only want us to be safe), we are not having a booksigning. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go to the bookstore. In fact, it means even more that you need to stop in and buy your favorite books. THEN, you can use it as an excuse to meet your favorite authors. If the book is in the bookstore, that means the author is at the conference.

Now, if you are like me and have a high degree of stranger anxiety and approaching a total stranger to sign a book makes you break out into hives, I've got a few tips for meeting your favorite authors (and getting your books signed!).

1. DON'T be afraid. Authors really are humans, just like you and me. In fact, a lot of them are just as shy and insecure as we are, and they love meeting someone face to face who has something nice to say about their books.

2. DO be respectful of their time. Many people at conference have very busy schedules, so they probably won't have an hour to spend with you. But if you don't catch them in the restroom (ICK!) or rushing to the meeting they were supposed to be at five minutes ago, they will probably have a minute or two to sign your book.

3. DON'T harbor unrealistic expectations. Just like with meeting editors and agents, an author you've just met isn't going to hook you up with an editor, publisher, give you an endorsement, or critique your book. Use the meeting for what it is- a chance to meet your favorite author. If the two of you are meant to be BFFs (it could happen), that relationship will build over time.

And here's a tip for the authors...

If you have a newbie approach you, hand shaking, and ask to sign your newest release, please be gracious, knowing that some of us are terrified of you. You may not think you have fangs, but many newbies believe that the only reason your fangs are not showing is that you take a secret author potion to hide your super-human abilities because you don't want us to know that you're really a sub-species of humans known as supercoolusauthorusterrificus. Yeah, I know, you wish... but that's what the underground is saying.

Another thing you don't want to miss, which also happens to be in the bookstore, is the Silent Auction. Every year, we hold this auction to raise money for the Scholarship Foundation to offer scholarships to members who can't otherwise attend conference. We always have lots of great items, so be sure to bid early and bid often. You will need cash or check to pay for the items if you win, so be prepared.

In conclusion- Go to St. Louis. Bypass the non-existent fair. Head to the ACFW bookstore. Buy books. Bid on items at the Silent Auction to raise money for the Scholarship Fund. Find your favorite authors and gush over their books, then get them to sign all the books you bought at the bookstore.

Sounds like a super fun time to me! (Almost as good as the fair!)

More on that kicking and screaming thing

2011-06-08T23:21:00.000-06:00

So picture, if you will, a romantic dinner at a fondue restaurant to celebrate our 12th anniversary. A wonderful meal, followed by a romantic walk. Then, since we had the babysitter a while longer, we decided to take a drive.

Next thing I know, we're heading toward this shopping center. I asked hubby why we were going there, and he said, "There's a Verizon store here."

And then I knew.

The man spent the evening wining and dining me to butter me up because he was going to make me face the inevitable. Yes, friends, I bought a new phone. The switch to hubby's phone was not successful. Compared to my older phone, it was an even bigger piece of crap. And hubby said I couldn't have my old phone back. So I got a new phone.

Behold...

My new phone. It has a case and a cover and all the stuff to protect it, but it's blue with a black case. I got the kind that slides so you can text easier. I figured if I'm going to be shoved into the information age, I might as well have something to make the information age easier.

I will say that it is very pretty. Much prettier than my old phone. I miss my old phone still. And, for those of you who are wondering, according to the Verizon guy, I got my last phone in July 2004. I think I traumatized the poor guy with my angst over a new phone. I told him that he really earned his pay with me today.

So there it is. How my husband romanced his way into making me get a new phone. I may or may not be happy about this. I had no idea how many difficult decisions were required of me in choosing this phone. Way too much stress for me.

Speaking of stress... my old ringtone is not available on the new phone. I don't like the ones that come on my new phone. So I visited the Verizon ringtone store and I am overwhelmed by my choices.

The change is going to kill me....

My Foolish Heart by Susan May Warren

2011-06-06T16:53:00.000-06:00

Unknown to her tiny town of Deep Haven, Isadora Presley spends her nights as Miss Foolish Heart, the star host of a syndicated talk radio show. Millions tune in to hear her advice on dating and falling in love, unaware that she’s never really done either. Issy’s ratings soar when it seems she’s falling in love on-air with a caller. A caller she doesn’t realize lives right next door.

Caleb Knight served a tour of duty in Iraq and paid a steep price. The last thing he wants is pity, so he hides his disability and moves to Deep Haven to land his dream job as the high school football coach. When his beautiful neighbor catches his eye, in a moment of desperation he seeks advice from My Foolish Heart, the show that airs before his favorite sports broadcast.

Before he knows it, Caleb finds himself drawn to the host—and more confused than ever. Is his perfect love the woman on the radio . . . or the one next door?

My Review:

Who doesn't like a book by Susan May Warren? Well, don't answer that, or else you may not like the results. :) This is definitely a book like what I've come to expect by Susie. It's fun, but also packs a great romance that makes for an enjoyable read. I remember listening to her talk while she was writing this book, and I love how she sprinkles so much truth into her stories without making you think you're getting a sermon. I really enjoyed this book a lot.

Susan May Warren is thrilled to announce the release of her latest Deep Haven book, My Foolish Heart!

Read what the reviewers are saying here.

To celebrate this charming novel about a dating expert who's never had a date, Susan has put together a romantic night on the town for one lucky couple. One grand prize winner will receive a Miss Foolish Heart prize package worth over $200!

The winner of the Romantic Night on the Town Prize Pack will receive:

* A $100 Visa Gift Card (For Dinner)

* A $100 Gift Certificate to a Hyatt/Marriott Hotel

* The entire Deep Haven series

To enter just click one of the icons below. But, hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on June 16th. The winner will be announced that evening during Susan’s Miss Foolish Heart Party on Facebook! Susan will be chatting with guests, hosting a book club chat about My Foolish Heart, testing your Deep Haven trivia skills, and giving away tons of great stuff! (Gift certificates, books, donuts, and more!) Don't miss the fun and BRING YOUR FRIENDS!

Day two of summer vacation: it just might kill me

2011-06-02T10:56:00.000-06:00

You know how Vacation Bible Schools have their silly summer themes? Well, I've got my own summer theme- it just might kill me.

I started with a plan. Because I work from home and my hours are inching closer to full-time, I don't have the luxury of being able to entertain my children all summer long. And frankly, at 7 and 10, I shouldn't have to. So, I created a chore chart. I thought it quite brilliant, because I have a whole list of items. Some are mandatory, and others optional, but each day, the 7 year old has to do 7, and the 10 year old has to do 10. Logical, yes??

On day one, the 10 year old started off like a rock star. She did all her chores, plus some extra, and was done by noon. The 7 year old, not so much. She's still cleaning her room from yesterday and didn't come close to doing her 7 for the day. (And many of the tasks are easy, like brushing teeth and hair- she did those.)

I was given the suggestion by a counselor, that since she's being so defiant about the whole thing, that this is an area where I should spank. Yes, I know, some people are against it, but this is a professional, and she did give me specific tips on how to do it appropriately. So... using her tips, last night, I spanked the 7yo once. I had to go to knitting group, and I usually get home after they've gone to bed, so I told her, "if your room is not clean when I get home, tomorrow, I will spank you again."

I got home after bedtime, and she was waiting up for me, crying. She didn't want to wait until morning to get her spanking, so she'd gone to get the spanking spoon and wanted her spanking now. For which hubby and I had to give her some credit. She didn't want to spend all night dreading the spanking, so she asked to get it over with. And we did.

Which brings us to this morning, and a new deadline. If she doesn't meet the deadline, she's getting another spanking. Fortunately for both of us, when I peeked in her room, she looked like she was going to meet the deadline. Of course, she should have been able to meet the last three, but this one, I think will happen.

The whole goal of my grand summer plan was to keep the kids occupied without relying on the electronic babysitter, so I can work. But I'm starting to think that instead of giving me more sanity, it may kill me.

All the people at the U2 concert

2011-05-26T22:57:00.000-06:00

Well, That Man took me to task for not posting last night. Sorry...

One of the other things I loved about the U2 concert was the variety of people. It was so interesting to see people of all ages- young boys sat with their parents in the row in front of us, and an older couple sat behind us. I also had to come to grips with the fact that we're no longer in the young, hip crowd. Well, okay, we were probably never in the hip crowd, but I am starting to realize that we're no longer as young as I'd like to think we are.

Still, it was funny to see the variety. And to be able to tell pretty quickly who the die-hard fans were. I told hubby that the guy sitting next to me probably hasn't heard any of their albums other than The Joshua Tree. This guy sat there drinking his beer and looking bored through everything but those songs. The kids seemed to only know the songs from the recent albums. And then, there were folks like us who knew and loved all the songs. I don't think there is a bad U2 song out there. Which was why the variety of songs U2 played was great. Other than, of course, The Great Disappointment. *sigh*

My one complaint about the people is that there were people near us smoking pot. Ugh. Now, I don't have anything against people who smoke pot. They can smoke it if they want to, just don't smoke it around me. This is the first concert I've been to where people were smoking it. I guess maybe I'm too sheltered or something, or maybe I just go to the wrong concerts. But YUCK!! Save that for The Grateful Dead or one of those other bands. It was pretty interesting, though, because some songs seemed to be the pot smoking songs. I wouldn't smell it for a while, and then U2 would start playing another song, and the pot smokers would light up. I asked hubby (who didn't know) how much of that it would take to get a contact high- I didn't feel any different, other than a little queasy because the smell of that stuff makes me sick. So, ew.

I think U2 is one of the few bands I can go see and notice a whole cross-section of people from all parts of society. I really appreciate that. We rode a train with an older successful-looking couple, a young couple with tattoos and piercings, a dad with his two pre-teen kids, a group of ladies who seemed to be out having a ladies' night out, and I think that's what made it so great. Everyone was there, and could be who they were, and it was all good. I love that.

U2 and sound...

2011-05-24T22:26:00.000-06:00

I was just telling someone at church tonight that I've had a hard time listening to U2 since the concert. Hubby pointed out that he read in the program that their songs were made to be played live (and I think I already mentioned), and it's definitely hitting home post-concert as I try to listen to my favorite songs. It just doesn't sound right.

Speaking of sounding right... big kudos to the U2 sound guys. I mean that, I really do. This is the first concert I've been to in a long time that I didn't need earplugs and my ears didn't hurt afterward. I think that says a lot to talent of the people behind the scenes. And okay, U2 probably can afford the best equipment out there that produces good quality sound without killing people's ears. But still, I know some sound guys, and they'll all tell you that it can still sound good and not be so loud that everyone goes deaf. Which U2 proved during their Denver show.

I haven't talked about The Fray, but since we're on the topic of sound quality, well... the vocals were really muffled at times. So I didn't enjoy them as much as I would have liked- I don't know their songs nearly as well as U2's, so when I couldn't understand the vocals, it was like listening to "blah blah blah." But you could tell the guys put their hearts into it, and they otherwise did a nice job.

Back to U2...

As I told my friend tonight, you really don't know U2 until you've been to one of their shows. There's something really beautiful and organic about their sound and the way the music flows that you just can't duplicate on an album. And, even though we do have a concert DVD from their LA show, the DVD doesn't capture the sound as well as being there. Being surrounded by the sound and the people creates a special symphony you can only experience live.

Oh, the ideas...

2011-05-23T22:16:00.000-06:00

The trouble with being a writer is that the ideas never stop. So there I was, at a U2 concert, surrounded by a million different people (okay, over 70,000), which means plenty of fodder for book ideas.

Because I don't want to get the attention of U2 security, or give any wackos ideas, I'll be non-specific about most of them. However, as I sat in a completely full stadium, I couldn't help but think of The Sum of All Fears. Great movie, great book, and super scary, because as I sat at Invesco Field, I realized how easy it would be. It wasn't like we went through metal detectors or anything like that. Security guys looked in our bags (but not very thoroughly, IMO), and then asked if our bottled water was factory sealed (it was). My point being, any number of the 70,000+ attendees could have been carrying weapons and completely gotten through, and... there we have The Sum of All Fears. OR, we could have had something like what we saw in The Event's finale... what if someone came to the concert with the intent of infecting concertgoers with a massive species-ending virus so that aliens could take over our planet? (Which would totally fit in with some of U2's space themes from the night.)

On top of that, it was supposedly Doomsday. From what I heard, there was supposed to be a massive earthquake to start off the end of the world. So as I sat in this big metal stadium, I wondered... what would happen if a massive earthquake hit right now? Is Invesco Field built to withstand an earthquake? What magnitude? What would a natural disaster look like with all those people trapped in that big bowl? It was a zoo trying to get out to light rail to get home, I can't imagine what a rescue response would have looked like trying to help that many people. But it would make for great fiction.

All right, so let's get beyond the massive incidents. What about seemingly benign things, like when I was in the restroom. A woman exited the stall, so the next lady went in to that stall, and called out to her, "Hey, you left your beer in here." The woman replied, "it was there when I got in." Wouldn't you know, I ended up in that stall, with that leftover beer? What if that beer had been spiked with something, and the woman who left it there was stashed in a closet somewhere, dead? What if that beer was the only clue to the woman's disappearance? Or maybe she was raptured... leaving behind her beer at a U2 concert?

Or... as was the problem at the concert (70K+ people, go figure), the restroom lines were ridiculous. I was behind about 50 people waiting my turn, when a woman came by and said, "hey, did you know there's a virtually empty restroom over there?" Of course, we all went to the place she indicated, but what if it had been a lure for more nefarious dealings?

Then there was the helicopter circling the place. First off, I want to know why they had to have a police helicopter circling a concert venue. Anyone know for real? Me, I kept thinking that at some point, it was going to shoot missiles into the place. And then, I saw a plane come dangerously close to the helicopter. Hubby and I thought for sure those two were going to crash into each other. Wouldn't that have been something? A plane crashing into a helicopter over a U2 concert. Not even Bono could have planned that.

The sad thing was, hubby thoroughly did not appreciate all of my great ideas and conspiracy theories. I kept thinking it would have been so much more fun to have a writer friend with me who would appreciate all of my great ideas. Instead, I had to wait to blog about it... and here we are.

Do these pictures give you any ideas....

Happy U2 Week!

2011-05-22T22:21:00.001-06:00

Last night, hubby and I finally used our anniversary gift to each other for last year's anniversary. Tickets to the U2 concert. Bono made a comment on stage about us all being two years older than when we bought our tickets. I turned and told hubby, "well, since it was an anniversary gift, I guess it's a good thing we didn't get divorced in that time." :) No, we weren't in danger of getting divorced. Which is why it was funny.

Sooo...

The concert was FANTASTIC!! Those boys from Ireland know how to do it right. It was such a great concert that I'll be blogging about it all week. By the end of the week, you'll either be sick to death of U2 or you'll be sure to make the next one.

That said, we must discuss my great disappointment. They did not play "40." "40" is my all-time favorite song, and it has been since I first heard it. There is no song on earth that can top "40." Please do not try to argue with me on this point. Therefore, I am extremely bitter that when creating their setlist, U2 did not consult me. Nevermind the fact that we are not BFFs and do not have each other's phone numbers. We are also ignoring the fact that "40" has not been played at any of the venues for the 360 tour. Yes, I checked. After The Great Disappointment. So, if I find out they play it at any of the other 360 shows, I will be even more bitter. I'm just saying.

However... other than The Great Disappointment, I LOVED IT!!!! And, as I have begun sorting out my thoughts, there's no way I can cover it all in one blog post. Why? Because it was that great.

Here's the thing about U2, and they may have said this somewhere or maybe in the program hubby bought- their music is designed to be played live. You can't fully appreciate even your favorite U2 song unless you've heard them do it live. There's something powerful about being a part of the music as they are making it. (And yes, I've heard "40" live- on the Vertigo tour. It was awesome.)

When you go to a U2 concert, you're not just going to hear music. You're going for an experience unlike anything you've ever experienced. I've been to tons of concerts in my life- some I'll admit to, and others I won't. :) There is nothing like U2 out there.

The end of a TV season and the return of some favorites

2011-05-19T12:41:00.000-06:00

Well, this week was the season finale of all the shows I like watching. *sniff* *sniff* Whatever will I do with my time?

Maybe attack my growing TBR pile? Which is a good thing, only I can't fold laundry and read, so I don't know how my laundry is going to get done over the next few months while I wait for my TV shows to come back.

Here's what's in my lineup and my rundown (May contain spoilers):

Chuck: Okay, technically, I still have to watch the season finale, because hubby and I have a rule that we have to watch it together. I'm sort of holding off, because then I really won't have anything to watch. But I've seen enough spoilers out there that I'm already eager for the next season. Chuck, my beloved, I will be waiting.

Castle: I can't believe they are making us wait until fall!!! That said, I do not believe for a second that Kate is dead. If you recall, they did a season finale with Kate being blown up in her apartment and she survived that, so my bet is that Kate was wearing a vest. If they'd really wanted to kill her, they'd have done what they did when they killed another beloved TV Kate in NCIS and put a bullet in her head. Speaking of, what self-respecting sniper goes for the chest? I'm telling you, Kate is alive.

The Event: Seriously???? You cancel the show with THAT ending? Insert lots and lots of bad words. At least when they axed Jericho, they gave it a semi-satisfying ending. This left it so wide open that we have no idea what happened. Just when they started opening up more cans of worms, like, "we were here first." Normally, I hate shows with aliens, but this one had me hooked. They had to know it was on the chopping block, so why didn't they wrap it up rather than open up new mysteries. Jerks.

The Good Wife: Meh. That didn't feel like a season finale. So they finally got together. Woohoo. I will say their first kiss was arguably the sexiest first kiss I've seen in looooong time. I'm hoping they do something to shake things up (which, shouldn't that have been in the season finale?) more. I'm over the whole Cary hates Alicia thing. Grow up, Cary. He's got a lot of potential as a really interesting character, so let's not put him in the game of being a pawn in the Peter/Alicia battle.

For my summer pleasure, I am excited about the following:

White Collar:
FINALLY!!! At least I only have to wait until the first week of June for that one. My family will finally have clean clothes.

Burn Notice:
Another FINALLY!! Still, I think it's rude to make me wait until June 23rd to find out what it's going to look like for Michael being back in and what his relationship with Fiona will look like now that they're coming to grips with their relationship. (Get married and have lots of babies!!!)

Royal Pains:
I think USA is purposely tormenting us by staggering these premieres because I have to wait until June 29th. Let's see what happens next in these new chapters of everyone's lives. Come on, Divya!

Warehouse 13:
I don't know if I want to keep watching. We'll see July 11. If Myka is really gone, then so am I. *sniff*

Fairly Legal:
This was supposed to be a summer one, but it says that they're delaying until 2012.

Now, I would completely have harsh words for USA over the delay of another great (but sadly unappreciated show), except I'd like to point out something from my list. Did you notice that out of all the shows I watch, USA has the majority?

Here's why, and here's why the other shows I watch keep me coming back: they all have an ongoing mystery thread not solved in each episode. And when one thread gets resolved, another opens. But the show isn't all about the mystery thread (which, sadly, is why The Event didn't do so well). All of these shows (except for The Event) have stand-alone episodes that feed into the ongoing mystery.

What's on your TV watching agenda?

The Lightkeeper’s Ball by Colleen Coble

2011-05-16T21:28:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Colleen Coble

and the book:

The Lightkeeper’s Ball

Thomas Nelson; 1 edition (April 19, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Colleen Coble’s thirty-five novels and novellas have won or finaled in awards ranging from the Romance Writers of America prestigious RITA, the Holt Medallion, the ACFW Book of the Year, the Daphne du Maurier, National Readers’ Choice, the Booksellers Best, and the 2009 Best Books of Indiana-Fiction award. She writes romantic mysteries because she loves to see justice prevail and love begin with a happy ending.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Olivia seems to have it all, but her heart yearns for more.

Olivia Stewart's family is one of the Four Hundred—the highest echelon of society in 1910. When her sister dies under mysterious circumstances, Olivia leaves their New York City home for Mercy Falls, California, to determine what befell Eleanor. She suspects Harrison Bennett, the man Eleanor planned to marry. But the more Olivia gets to know him, the more she doubts his guilt—and the more she is drawn to him herself.

When several attempts are made on her life, Olivia turns to Harrison for help. He takes her on a ride in his aeroplane, but then crashes, and they’re forced to spend two days alone together. With her reputation hanging by a thread, Harrison offers to marry her to make the situation right. As a charity ball to rebuild the Mercy Falls lighthouse draws near, she realizes she wants more than a sham engagement—she wants Harrison in her life forever. But her enemy plans to shatter the happiness she is ready to grasp. If Olivia dares to drop her masquerade, she just might see the path to true happiness.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson; 1 edition (April 19, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 159554268X
ISBN-13: 978-1595542687

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The New York brownstone was just half a block down from the Astor mansion on Fifth Avenue, the most prestigious address in the country. The carriage, monogrammed with the Stewart emblem, rattled through the iron gates and came to a halt in front of the ornate doors. Assisted by the doorman, Olivia Stewart descended and rushed for the steps of her home. She was late for tea, and her mother would be furious. Mrs. Astor herself had agreed to join them today.

    Olivia handed her hat to the maid, who opened the door. “They’re in the drawing room, Miss Olivia,” Goldia whispered. “Your mama is ready to pace the floor.”

    Olivia patted at her hair, straightened her shoulders, and pinned a smile in place as she forced her stride to a ladylike stroll to join the other women. Two women turned to face her as she entered: her mother and Mrs. Astor. They wore identical expressions of disapproval.

    “Olivia, there you are,” her mother said. “Sit down before your tea gets cold.”

    Olivia pulled off her gloves as she settled into the Queen Anne chair beside Mrs. Astor. “I apologize for my tardiness,” she said. “A lorry filled with tomatoes overturned in the street, and my driver couldn’t get around it.”

    Mrs. Astor’s face cleared. “Of course, my dear.” She sipped her tea from the delicate blue-and-white china. “Your dear mother and I were just discussing your prospects. It’s time you married.”

    Oh dear. She’d hoped to engage in light conversation that had nothing to do with the fact that she was twenty-five and still unmarried. Her unmarried state distressed her if she let it, but every man her father brought to her wanted only her status. She doubted any of them had ever looked into her soul. “I’m honored you would care about my marital status, Mrs. Astor,” Olivia said.

    “Mrs. Astor wants to hold a ball in your honor, Olivia,” her mother gushed. “She has a distant cousin coming to town whom she wants you to meet.”

    Mrs. Astor nodded. “I believe you and Matthew would suit. He owns property just down the street.”

    Olivia didn’t mistake the reference to the man’s money. Wealth would be sure to impact her mother. She opened her mouth to ask if the man was her age, then closed it at the warning glint in her mother’s eyes.

    “He’s been widowed for fifteen years and is long overdue for a suitable wife,” Mrs. Astor said.

    Olivia barely suppressed a sigh. So he was another of the decrepit gentlemen who showed up from time to time. “You’re very kind,” she said.

    “He’s most suitable,” her mother said. “Most suitable.”

    Olivia caught the implication. They spent the next half an hour discussing the date and the location. She tried to enter into the conversation with interest, but all she could do was imagine some gray-whiskered blue blood dancing her around the ballroom. She stifled a sigh of relief when Mrs. Astor took her leave and called for her carriage.

    “I’ll be happy when you’re settled, Olivia,” her mother said when they returned to the drawing room. “Mrs. Astor is most kind.”

    “She is indeed.” Olivia pleated her skirt with her fingers. “Do you ever wish you could go somewhere incognito, Mother? Where no one has expectations of you because you are a Stewart?”

    Her mother put down her saucer with a clatter. “Whatever are you babbling about, my dear?”

    “Haven’t you noticed that people look at us differently because we’re Stewarts? How is a man ever to love me for myself when all he sees is what my name can gain him? Men never see inside to the real me. They notice only that I’m a Stewart.”

    “Have you been reading those novels again?” Her mother sniffed and narrowed her gaze on Olivia. “Marriage is about making suitable connections. You owe it to your future children to consider the life you give them. Love comes from respect. I would find it quite difficult to respect someone who didn’t have the gumption to make his way in the world. Besides, we need you to marry well. You’re twenty-five years old and I’ve indulged your romantic notions long enough. Heaven knows your sister’s marriage isn’t what I had in mind, essential though it may be. Someone has to keep the family name in good standing.”

    Olivia knew what her duty demanded, but she didn’t have to like it. “Do all the suitable men have to be in their dotage?”

    Her mother’s eyes sparked fire but before she spoke, Goldia appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Bennett is here, Mrs. Stewart.”

    Olivia straightened in her chair. “Show him in. He’ll have news of Eleanor.”

    Bennett appeared in the doorway moments later. He shouldn’t have been imposing. He stood only five-foot-three in his shoes, which were always freshly polished. He was slim, nearly gaunt, with a patrician nose and obsidian eyes. He’d always reminded Olivia of a snake about to strike. His expression never betrayed any emotion, and today was no exception. She’d never understood why her father entertained an acquaintance with the man let alone desired their families to be joined.

    “Mr. Bennett.” She rose and extended her hand and tried not to flinch as he brushed his lips across it.

    “Miss Olivia,” he said, releasing her hand. He moved to her mother’s chair and bowed over her extended hand.

    Olivia sank back into her chair. “What do you hear of my sister? I have received no answer to any of my letters.”

    He took a seat, steepled his fingers, and leaned forward. “That’s the reason for our meeting today. I fear I have bad news to impart.”

    Her pulse thumped erratically against her ribcage. She wetted her lips and drew in a deep breath. “What news of Eleanor?” How bad could it be? Eleanor had gone to marry Harrison, a man she hardly knew. But she was in love with the idea of the Wild West, and therefore more than happy to marry the son of her father’s business partner.

    He never blinked. “I shall just have to blurt it out then. I’m sorry to inform you that Eleanor is dead.”

    Her mother moaned. Olivia stared at him. “I don’t believe it,” she said.

    “I know, it’s a shock.”

    There must have been some mistake. She searched his face for some clue that this was a jest. “What happened?”

    He didn’t hold her gaze. “She drowned.”

    “How?”

    “No one knows. I’m sorry.”

    Her mother stood and swayed. “What are you saying?” Her voice rose in a shriek. “Eleanor can’t be dead! Are you quite mad?”

    He stood and took her arm. “I suggest you lie down, Mrs. Stewart. You’re quite pale.”

    Her mother put her hands to her cheeks. “Tell me it isn’t true,” she begged. Then she keeled over in a dead faint.

#
    Harrison Bennett tugged on his tie, glanced at his shoes to make sure no speck of dirt marred their perfection, then disembarked from his motorcar in front of the mansion. The cab had rolled up Nob Hill much too quickly for him to gather his courage to face the party. Electric lights pushed back the darkness from the curving brick driveway to the porch with its impressive white pillars. Doormen flanked the double doors at the entry. Through the large windows, he saw the ballroom. Ladies in luxurious gowns and gentlemen in tuxedos danced under glittering chandeliers, and their laughter tinkled on the wind.

    His valet, Eugene, exited behind him. “I’ll wait in the kitchen, sir.”

    Harrison adjusted his hat and strode with all the confidence he could muster to the front door. “Mr. Harrison Bennett,” he said to the doorman.

    The man scanned the paper in his hand. “Welcome, Mr. Bennett. Mr. Rothschild is in the ballroom.”

    Harrison thanked him and stepped into the opulent hall papered in gold foil. He went in the direction of the voices with a sense of purpose. This night could change his future. He glanced around the enormous ballroom, and he recognized no one among the glittering gowns and expensive suits. In subtle ways, these nobs would try to keep him in his place. It would take all his gumption not to let them. It was a miracle he’d received an invitation. Only the very wealthy or titled were invited to the Rothschilds’ annual ball in San Francisco. Harrison was determined to do whatever was necessary to secure the contract inside his coat pocket.

    A young woman in an evening gown fluttered her lashes at him over the top of her fan. When she lowered it, she approached with a coaxing smile on her lips. “Mr. Bennett, I’d hoped to see you here tonight.”

    He struggled to remember her name. Miss Kessler. She’d made her interest in him known at Eleanor’s funeral. Hardly a suitable time. He took her gloved hand and bowed over it. “Miss Kessler. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

    “I came when I heard you were on the guest list.”

    He ignored her brazen remark. “It’s good to see you again. I have some business to attend to. Perhaps later?”

    Her eyes darkened and she withdrew her hand. “I shall watch for you,” she said.

    And he’d do the same, with the intent to avoid her. “If you’ll excuse me.” He didn’t wait for an answer but strolled through the crowd. He finally spied his host standing in front of a marble fireplace. A flame danced in the eight-foot hearth. Harrison stepped through the crowd to join the four men clustered around the wealthy Rothschild.

    The man closest to Harrison was in his fifties and had a curling mustache. “They’ll never get that amendment ratified,” he said. “An income tax! It’s quite ridiculous to expect us to pay something so outrageous.”

    A younger man in a gray suit shook his head. “If it means better roads, I’ll gladly write them a check. The potholes outside of town ruined my front axels.”

    “We can take care of our own roads,” Rothschild said. “I have no need of the government in my affairs. At least until we’re all using flying machines.” He snickered, then glanced at Harrison. “You look familiar, young man. Have we met?”

    Flying machines. Maybe this meeting was something God had arranged. Harrison thrust out his hand. “Harrison Bennett.”

    “Claude’s son?”’

    Was that distaste in the twist of Rothschild’s mouth? Harrison put confidence into his grip. “Yes, sir.”

    “How is your father?”

    “Quite well. He’s back in New York by now.”

    “I heard about your fiancée’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”

    Harrison managed not to wince. “Thank you.” He pushed away his memories of that terrible day, the day he’d seen Eleanor Stewart for what she really was.

    “Your father was most insistent I meet you. He seems to think you have a business proposition I might be interested in.”

    Harrison smiled and began to tell the men of the new diamond mines that Bennett and Bennett had found in Africa. A mere week after Mr. Stewart’s passing, Mr. Bennett had renamed the venture to include Harrison. An hour later, he had appointments set up with three of the men as possible investors. His father would be pleased.

    Harrison smiled and retraced his steps to toward the front door but was waylaid by four women in brightly colored silk. They swooped around him, and Miss Kessler took him by the hand and led him to a quiet corner.

    “Let’s not talk about anything boring like work,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Tell me what you love to do most.”

    He glanced at the other women clustered around. “I’m building an aeroplane. I’d like to have it in the air by the time Earth passes through the tail of Halley’s Comet.”

    She gasped. “Do you have a death wish, Mr. Bennett? You would be breathing the poisonous fumes directly. No one even knows if the Earth will survive this.”

    He’d heard this before. “The scientists I’ve discussed this with believe we shall be just fine,” Harrison said.

    “I assume you’ve purchased comet pills?” the blonde closest to him said.

    “I have no fear.”

    The brunette in red silk smiled. “If man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings. Or so I’ve heard the minister say.”

    He finally placed the brunette. Her uncle was Rothschild. No wonder she had such contempt for Harrison’s tone. All the nobs cared for were trains and ships. “It’s just a matter of perfecting the machine,” Harrison said. “Someday aeroplanes will be the main mode of transcontinental transportation.”

    The brunette laughed. “Transcontinental? My uncle would call it balderdash.”

    He glanced at his pocket watch without replying. “I fear I must leave you lovely ladies. Thank you for the conversation.”

    He found Eugene in the kitchen and beckoned to his valet.

    Eugene put down his coffee cup and followed. “You didn’t stay long, sir,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

    Harrison stalked out the door and toward the car. “Are there no visionaries left in the country?”

    Eugene followed a step behind. “You spoke of your flying machine?”

    “The world is changing, Eugene, right under their noses—and they don’t see it.”

    Eugene opened the door for Harrison. “You will show them the future, sir.”

    He set his jaw. “I shall indeed.”

    “I have a small savings set aside, Mr. Bennett. I’d like to invest in your company. With your permission, of course.”

    Eugene’s trust bolstered Harrison’s determination. “I’d be honored to partner with you, Eugene. We are going to change the world.”

My baby is 7

2011-05-12T09:15:00.000-06:00

And I'm sad... :( I can't believe how fast she's growing up.

My Lenten project with her worked out okay... I kept forgetting to blog about it mostly because for her, the computer is a competitor for my attention, and so I tried really hard not to be on the computer when I was with her. Which meant less time to get all my work done. So I didn't follow through as much on my blog.

I did learn a few important things by taking that extra time with her. And I'm learning to re-prioritize some things and let go of things I thought were important, but in the grand scheme of things just aren't... at least not compared to my sweet little *sob* seven year old.

So in honor of her birthday (and really, I should do this more), I want to tell you seven things I love about my seven year old:

1. She's very creative. Some days I am amazed at how interesting her ideas are- I have no idea where she comes up with them.

2. She's a very loving girl. She will love on just about everyone. Even when she's at her worst, the people around her can't help but love her.

3. She has a vibrancy for life... I can't explain it other than to say that when she's in a room (unless she's in a bad mood, then look out), everything just sparkles more.

4. She's very girly. I never wanted a girly girl. But I'm learning that having her encourages me in more feminine pursuits, which is weird, but it can be fun. So I'm really glad I got one anyway.

5. She's eager to be helpful. If she sees me doing something, she'll often ask if she can help or do it with me. She likes to be recognized as a "helper."

6. Her laugh is contagious.

7. Even on the worst of the worst days, we have stolen moments, when she snuggles up to me, and gives me the sweetest look, and I know that she is worth it. I just love her!

And, because I can't get enough of my little angel, here's an explanation of the picture- she's practicing piano (because she wants to be a singer on stage when she grows up), wearing her soccer shoes (because she just played soccer in the yard with the neighbors. Note the girly shoes and socks.), and her girly ballerina outfit (because she just got back from dance lessons.). I'd also be remiss if I didn't point out her hairdo- she's growing out her bangs because that's the style her friends are going for, and she likes to make them "pretty," so she's got this funky bang ponytail, which she loves.

Another step in my technological evolution

2011-05-10T09:00:00.003-06:00

I've already blogged about my Kindle, and how I'm being thrust into that next level of technological evolution.

Well, the time has come to take yet another step that I don't want to take.

Yes, friends, I am talking about getting a new cell phone. Please understand that I have purposely not upgraded my phone for um... well... I think we're nigh on seven years. I got the phone about the same time my almost 7yo graced us with her presence.

Everyone I know has a smart phone. I continue to resist the evils of being tethered to my email. You will not receive an email from me that has the "sent from my iphone" or "sent from my blackberry" message. I spend too much time online as it is, and I really don't want to be any more reachable than I already am. Plus, I don't want to learn a bunch more buttons or upgrade my calling plan.

I LIKE my phone. Over the past year or so, we've coaxed it into living a little longer, and every couple of months, hubby has to glue it back together. Well, he glued it last week, and it's already coming apart. So yesterday, he came to me in a very loving way, and said, "honey, we need to do something about your phone." I thought he meant gluing it again.

But no, he held up another phone and said, "I think we should talk about trying my old phone."

No, it's not a smartphone. It's a sleeker version of my poor old phone that he used until he upgraded to his current tough man-phone. I'm not sure I can handle this.

"Can we transfer all my stuff from my old phone to this one?" Like the cute video I have of my 2yo (now almost 7yo) daughter playing her toy piano and singing?

"Yes, dear."

"And if I don't like it, can I go back to my old phone?"

"Yes, dear."

Okay. I think I'm going to go for it. Why do I feel like a middle schooler being asked to give up my wubbie?

Dinner conversations at our house

2011-05-09T19:05:00.000-06:00

I've had a really bad stomachache all afternoon and evening. I don't feel sick, but my stomach really hurts. So I didn't eat much when we sat down to eat. The kids noticed and asked why, so I explained I had a tummy ache.

A little while later, I did the rude dinner thing no one likes to talk about. Yes, I farted. Loudly, I might add. Hubby looks at me and says, "feel better?"

I looked at him and said, "yep," thinking the matter was dropped.

A few minutes pass, and the 6yo says, "so that's why your tummy hurts! You had to fart!"

So I said yes, and she decided to continue the conversation. "Does your tummy still hurt?"

"Yes."

Then she picks up the bottle of barbecue sauce. "Is this made from beans?"

"No, why?"

"Well, beans make people fart, so if you drink the whole bottle, your tummy would feel better."

At which point, I started laughing so hard that it made my poor tummy hurt even worse. When you have a stomachache, laughter is NOT the best medicine. Though eventually, I'll enjoy the story without my poor tummy hurting.

My first purchased Kindle eBook

2011-05-04T14:05:00.000-06:00

ACK!!! I did it!!

I still don't know how I feel about it. I will readily admit to being a die-hard print book fan. I really don't like ebooks and I like the feel of paper. Sorry, that's just how it is.

However, I was given a Kindle for Christmas. And I thought, "gee, that's a nice gift, but what the heck am I going to do with it?"

Well, I've been getting the free Kindle downloads, which has given me plenty to read (and I haven't yet read most of them), and I will say that I LOVE my Kindle for travel. It's so nice not having to make the choice between doing without or lugging a whole bag of books, since I read so fast. And, it's been nice because my boss can now send me the e-versions of books she wants me to read.

Since then, I have not actually PURCHASED a Kindle book. I know, some of the authors with free Kindle books are cringing. But you know what? I still prefer purchasing print books. So if I like a book well enough to buy it, I buy it in print.

Until today.

I blog-stalk Deanna Raybourn. I recently described her writing as "literary crack." She's that good. Her books (print, tyvm) have an honored place on my shelves. Anyway, she always has the most interesting tidbits in her books, and if you read her blog, you'll see that she does some amazing research. So today, when she was talking about where to get one of her research books, she said the thing that enticed me to finally purchase my first Kindle book.

It's only available on Kindle. And so, addict that I am, I bought it. The history nerd in me could not resist, and I keep telling myself that it was only 2.99. Which is why I am the proud owner (I think) of Daily Life in Victorian England. I mean, really, does it get any better than that?

Still, I can't believe I actually paid money for something I can't touch.

Mixed feelings on Bin Laden's Death

2011-05-01T23:30:00.001-06:00

I had to shut off my Twitter and Facebook for a while, because while I understand the relief people are feeling at finally being able to close a painful chapter of our history, I'm not sure that this is a reason to celebrate.

Thousands of people have died in this endeavor. People whose names and faces are all but forgotten except for the ones who've lost them. For whom is this a victory? Just because Osama bin Laden is dead does not mean all the terrorists are going to hang up their guns and say, "oops, my bad." And, because of the structure of al-Qaeda, bin Laden's death changes nothing in terms of the terrorists' agenda. It may be too soon to tell, but this death could very well mean that terrorists now have a new martyr to justify their cause. And we've given them pictures of Americans celebrating in front of the White House just as we had the awful visions of them celebrating 9/11.

I think, for me, the worst was reading comments from people who wanted to rejoice in bin Laden burning in hell. Now I am not going to go all Rob Bell on you, at least I don't think, because I have not read his book, but I do want to know- who are we to say that bin Laden is in hell? And I do not believe for a minute that if bin Laden did arrive in hell, that God is rejoicing over it. I don't think He rejoices over anyone going to hell, no matter how much they deserve it.

Some of my friends from church shared some encouraging Scripture on Facebook, and right now, I'm sitting with it and just letting God's word soothe my soul.

Proverbs 24:17-18 - "Don't laugh when your enemy falls; don't crow over his collapse. God might see, and become very provoked, and then take pity on his plight."

Ezekiel 18:23 - "Do you think I take any pleasure in the death of wicked men and women? Isn't it my pleasure that they turn around, no longer living wrong but living right—really living?

I don't have any answers about bin Laden, I really don't. I am glad that some people have the closure they need to move on with their lives. I pray that this closure doesn't open up a whole new chapter of increased violence. For some reason, I am reminded of Israel, when they asked for a king, despite God saying they didn't need one. What price will we pay for the satisfaction of thinking we've received justice for the lives we've lost?

Discussion with my 10yo about crack

2011-04-28T17:35:00.000-06:00

Today, we had some great mother-daughter bonding time at the grocery store. I can't remember what she was doing, but it was some kind of stupid thing kids do in stores. Hence, the following conversation:

Me: "Are you smoking crack again?"
10yo: "No!" Long pause. "I don't even know what crack is."
Me: "Good. Keep it that way."
10yo: "Is it like pot?"
Me: "Yes."

We walk a little ways, and then she stops.
10yo: "Mom? What's pot?"

In Grandma's Attic.. Series by Arleta Richardson

2011-04-27T10:07:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Arleta Richardson

and the book:

In Grandma's Attic
AND
More Stories from Grandma's Attic

David C. Cook (April 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Karen Davis, Assistant Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Arleta Richardson grew up in a Chicago hotel under her grandmother’s care. As they sat overlooking the shores of Lake Michigan, her grandmother shared memories of her childhood on a Michigan farm. These treasured family stories became the basis for the Grandma’s Attic Series.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Remember when you were a child, when the entire world was new, and the smallest object a thing of wonder? Arleta Richardson remembered: the funny wearable wire contraption hidden in the dusty attic, the century-old schoolchild’s slate that belonged to Grandma, an ancient trunk filled with quilt pieces—each with its own special story—and the button basket, a miracle of mysteries. But best of all she remembered her remarkable grandmother who made magic of all she touched, bringing the past alive as only a born storyteller could.

So step inside the attic of Richardson’s grandmother. These stories will keep you laughing while teaching you valuable lessons. These marvelous tales faithfully recalled for the delight of young and old alike are a touchstone to another day when life was simpler, perhaps richer, and when the treasures of family life and love were passed from generation to generation by a child’s questions and the legends that followed enlarged our faith. These timeless stories were originally released in 1974 and then revised in 1999. They are being re-released with new artwork that will appeal to a new generation of girls.

Product Details:

In Grandma's Attic:

List Price: $6.99
Reading level: Ages 9-12
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook (April 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0781403790
ISBN-13: 978-0781403795

More Stories from Grandma's Attic:

List Price: $6.99
Reading level: Ages 9-12
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; 3 edition (April 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 9780781403801
ISBN-13: 978-0781403801
ASIN: 0781403804

MY REVIEW:
As with all books for children, I gave this one to my daughter to review as well, and she really enjoyed it. Sometimes I have a hard time finding good books for my 10 year old, so it was nice to find something I was comfortable giving her to read- that she wants to read! I think that can be the biggest challenge for parents- finding something the kids enjoy, but isn't inappropriate. The stories in these books were entertaining, and provided an interesting insight into the past. It's neat to be able to give kids glimpses into a time when they didn't have cell phones, computers, and cable TV to keep them occupied.

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

In Grandma’s Attic – Chapter 1

Pride Goes Before a Fall

“Grandma, what is this?”

Grandma looked up from her work. “Good lands, child, where did you find that?”

“In the attic,” I replied. “What is it, Grandma?”

Grandma chuckled and answered, “That’s a hoop. The kind that ladies wore under their skirts when I was a little girl.”

“Did you ever wear one, Grandma?” I asked.

Grandma laughed. “Indeed I did,” she said. “In fact, I wore that very one.”

Here, I decided, must be a story. I pulled up the footstool and prepared to listen. Grandma looked at the old hoop fondly.

“I only wore it once,” she began. “But I kept it to remind me how painful pride can be.”

I was about eight years old when that hoop came into my life. For months I had been begging Ma to let me have a hoopskirt like the big girls wore. Of course that was out of the question. What would a little girl, not even out of calicoes, be doing with a hoopskirt? Nevertheless, I could envision myself walking haughtily to school with the hoopskirt and all the girls watching enviously as I took my seat in the front of the room.

This dream was shared by my best friend and seatmate, Sarah Jane. Together we spent many hours picturing ourselves as fashionable young ladies in ruffles and petticoats. But try as we would, we could not come up with a single plan for getting a hoopskirt of our very own.

Finally, one day in early spring, Sarah Jane met me at the school grounds with exciting news. An older cousin had come to their house to visit, and she had two old hoops that she didn’t want any longer. Sarah Jane and I could have them to play with, she said. Play with, indeed! Little did that cousin know that we didn’t want to play with them. Here was the answer to our dreams. All day, under cover of our books, Sarah Jane and I planned how we would wear those hoops to church on Sunday.

There was a small problem: How would I get that hoop into the house without Ma knowing about it? And how could either of us get out of the house with them on without anyone seeing us? It was finally decided that I would stop by Sarah Jane’s house on Sunday morning. We would have some excuse for walking to church, and after her family had left, we would put on our hoops and prepare to make a grand entrance at the church.

“Be sure to wear your fullest skirt,” Sarah Jane reminded me. “And be here early. They’re all sure to look at us this Sunday!”

If we had only known how true that would be! But of course, we were happily unaware of the disaster that lay ahead.

Sunday morning came at last, and I astonished my family by the speed with which I finished my chores and was ready to leave for church.

“I’m going with Sarah Jane this morning,” I announced, and set out quickly before anyone could protest.

All went according to plan. Sarah Jane’s family went on in the buggy, cautioning us to hurry and not be late for service. We did have a bit of trouble fastening the hoops around our waists and getting our skirts pulled down to cover them. But when we were finally ready, we agreed that there could not be two finer-looking young ladies in the county than us.

Quickly we set out for church, our hoopskirts swinging as we walked. Everyone had gone in when we arrived, so we were assured the grand entry we desired. Proudly, with small noses tipped up, we sauntered to the front of the church and took our seats.

Alas! No one had ever told us the hazards of sitting down in a hoopskirt without careful practice! The gasps we heard were not of admiration as we had anticipated—far from it! For when we sat down, those dreadful hoops flew straight up in the air! Our skirts covered our faces, and the startled minister was treated to the sight of two pairs of white pantalets and flying petticoats.

Sarah Jane and I were too startled to know how to disentangle ourselves, but our mothers were not. Ma quickly snatched me from the seat and marched me out the door.

The trip home was a silent one. My dread grew with each step. What terrible punishment would I receive at the hands of an embarrassed and upset parent? Although I didn’t dare look at her, I knew she was upset because she was shaking. It was to be many years before I learned that Ma was shaking from laughter, and not from anger!

Nevertheless, punishment was in order. My Sunday afternoon was spent with the big Bible and Pa’s concordance. My task was to copy each verse I could find that had to do with being proud. That day I was a sorry little girl who learned a lesson about pride going before a fall.

“And you were never proud again, Grandma?” I asked after she finished the story.

Grandma thought soberly for a moment. “Yes,” she replied. “I was proud again. Many times. It was not until I was a young lady and the Lord saved me that I had the pride taken from my heart. But many times when I am tempted to be proud, I remember that horrid hoopskirt and decide that a proud heart is an abomination to the Lord!”

***************************************

More Stories From Grandma’s Attic

Chapter 1

The Nuisance in Ma’s Kitchen

When Grandma called from the backyard, I knew I was in for it. She was using her would-you-look-at-this voice, which usually meant I was responsible for something.

“What, Grandma?” I asked once I reached the spot where she was hanging up the washing.

“Would you look at this?” she asked. “I just went into the kitchen for more clothespins and came back out to find this.”

I looked where she was pointing. One of my kittens had crawled into the clothes basket and lay sound asleep on a clean sheet.

“If you’re going to have kittens around the house, you’ll have to keep an eye on them. Otherwise leave them in the barn where they belong. It’s hard enough to wash sheets once without doing them over again.”

Grandma headed toward the house with the soiled sheet, and I took the kitten back to the barn. But I didn’t agree that it belonged there. I would much rather have had the whole family of kittens in the house with me. Later I mentioned this to Grandma.

“I know,” she said. “I felt the same way when I was your age. If it had been up to me, I would have moved every animal on the place into the house every time it rained or snowed.”

“Didn’t your folks let any pets in the house?” I asked.

“Most of our animals weren’t pets,” Grandma admitted. “But there were a few times when they were allowed in. If an animal needed special care, it stayed in the kitchen. I really enjoyed those times, especially if it was one I could help with.”

“Tell me about one,” I said, encouraging her to tell me another story about her childhood.

“I remember one cold spring,” she began, “when Pa came in from the barn carrying a tiny goat.”

“I’m not sure we can save this one.” Pa held the baby goat up for us to see. “The nanny had twins last night, and she’ll only let one come near her. I’m afraid this one’s almost gone.”

Ma agreed and hurried to find an old blanket and a box for a bed. She opened the oven door, put the box on it, and gently took the little goat and laid it on the blanket. It didn’t move at all. It just lay there, barely breathing.

“Oh, Ma,” I said. “Do you think it will live? Shouldn’t we give it something to eat?”

“It’s too weak to eat right now,” Ma replied. “Let it rest and get warm. Then we’ll try to feed it.”

Fortunately it was Saturday, and I didn’t have to go to school. I sat on the floor next to the oven and watched the goat. Sometimes it seemed as though it had stopped breathing, and I would call Ma to look.

“It’s still alive,” she assured me. “It just isn’t strong enough to move yet. You wait there and watch if you want to, but don’t call me again unless it opens its eyes.”

When Pa and my brothers came in for dinner, Reuben stopped and looked down at the tiny animal. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?”

I burst into tears. “It does so!” I howled. “It looks just fine! Ma says it’s going to open its eyes. Don’t discourage it!”

Reuben backed off in surprise, and Pa came over to comfort me. “Now, Reuben wasn’t trying to harm that goat. He just meant that it doesn’t … look like a whole lot.”

I started to cry again, and Ma tried to soothe me. “Crying isn’t going to help that goat one bit,” she said. “When it gets stronger, it will want something to eat. I’ll put some milk on to heat while we have dinner.”

I couldn’t leave my post long enough to go to the table, so Ma let me hold my plate in my lap. I ate dinner watching the goat. Suddenly it quivered and opened its mouth. “It’s moving, Ma!” I shouted. “You’d better bring the milk!”

Ma soaked a rag in the milk, and I held it while the little goat sucked it greedily. By the time it had fallen asleep again, I was convinced that it would be just fine.

And it was! By evening the little goat was standing on its wobbly legs and began to baa loudly for more to eat. “Pa, maybe you’d better bring its box into my room,” I suggested at bedtime.

“Whatever for?” Pa asked. “It will keep warm right here by the stove. We’ll look after it during the night. Don’t worry.”

“And we aren’t bringing your bed out here,” Ma added, anticipating my next suggestion. “You’ll have enough to do, watching that goat during the day.”

Of course Ma was right. As the goat got stronger, he began to look for things to do. At first he was content to grab anything within reach and pull it. Dish towels, apron strings, and tablecloth corners all fascinated him. I kept busy trying to move things out of his way.

From the beginning the little goat took a special liking to Ma, but she was not flattered. “I can’t move six inches in this kitchen without stumbling over that animal,” she sputtered. “He can be sound asleep in his box one minute and sitting on my feet the next. I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate him in here.”

As it turned out, it wasn’t much longer. The next Monday, Ma prepared to do the washing in the washtub Pa had placed on two chairs near the woodpile. Ma always soaked the clothes in cold water first, then transferred them to the boiler on the stove.

I was in my room when I heard her shouting, “Now you put that down! Come back here!”

I ran to the kitchen door and watched as the goat circled the table with one of Pa’s shirts in his mouth. Ma was right behind him, but he managed to stay a few feet ahead of her.

“Step on the shirt, Ma!” I shouted as I ran into the room. “Then he’ll have to stop!”

I started around the table the other way, hoping to head him off. But the goat seemed to realize that he was outnumbered, for he suddenly turned and ran toward the chairs that held the washtub.

“Oh, no!” Ma cried. “Not that way!”

But it was too late! Tub, water, and clothes splashed to the floor. The goat danced stiff-legged through the soggy mess with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s enough!” Ma said. “I’ve had all I need of that goat. Take him out and tie him in the yard, Mabel. Then bring me the mop, please.”

I knew better than to say anything, but I was worried about what would happen to the goat. If he couldn’t come back in the kitchen, where would he sleep?

Pa had the answer to that. “He’ll go to the barn tonight.”

“But, Pa,” I protested, “he’s too little to sleep in the barn. Besides, he’ll think we don’t like him anymore!”

“He’ll think right,” Ma said. “He’s a menace, and he’s not staying in my kitchen another day.”

“But I like him,” I replied. “I feel sorry for him out there alone. If he has to sleep in the barn, let me go out and sleep with him!”

My two brothers looked at me in amazement.

“You?” Roy exclaimed. “You won’t even walk past the barn after dark, let alone go in!”

Everyone knew he was right. I had never been very brave about going outside after dark. But I was more concerned about the little goat than I was about myself.

“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “He’ll be scared out there, and he’s littler than I am.”

Ma didn’t say anything, probably because she thought I’d change my mind before dark. But I didn’t. When Pa started for the barn that evening, I was ready to go with him. Ma saw that I was determined, so she brought me a blanket.

“You’d better wrap up in this,” she said. “The hay is warm, but it’s pretty scratchy.”

I took the blanket and followed Pa and the goat out to the barn. The more I thought about the long, dark night, the less it seemed like a good idea, but I wasn’t going to give in or admit that I was afraid.

Pa found a good place for me to sleep. “This is nice and soft and out of the draft. You’ll be fine here.”

I rolled up in the blanket, hugging the goat close to me as I watched Pa check the animals. The light from the lantern cast long, scary shadows through the barn, and I thought about asking Pa if he would stay with me. I knew better, though, and all too soon he was ready to leave.

“Good night, Mabel. Sleep well,” he said as he closed the barn door behind him. I doubted that I would sleep at all. If it hadn’t been for the goat and my brothers who would laugh at me, I would have returned to the house at once. Instead I closed my eyes tightly and began to say my prayers. In a few moments the barn door opened, and Reuben’s voice called to me.

“Mabel,” he said, “it’s just me.” He came over to where I lay, and I saw that he had a blanket under his arm. “I thought I’d sleep out here tonight too. I haven’t slept in the barn for a long time. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Oh, no. That’s fine.” I turned over and fell asleep at once.

When I awoke in the morning, the goat and Reuben were both gone. Soon I found the goat curled up by his mother.

“Will you be sleeping in the barn again tonight?” Ma asked me at breakfast.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’ll take care of the goat during the day, but I guess his mother can watch him at night.”

Grandma laughed at the memory. “After I grew up, I told Reuben how grateful I was that he came out to stay with me. I wonder how my family ever put up with all my foolishness.”

Grandma went back into the house, and I wandered out to the barn to see the little kittens. I decided I wouldn’t be brave enough to spend the night there even if I had a big brother to keep me company!

Revise Us Again by Frank Viola

2011-04-21T16:36:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Frank Viola

and the book:

Rivise Us Again

David C. Cook; New edition (April 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Frank Viola is a frequent conference speaker and author of numerous books on the deeper Christian life and church restoration, including Reimagining Church, Finding Organic Church, Jesus Manifesto, (coauthored with Leonard Sweet), and the best-selling From Eternity to Here.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Revise what it means to live the Christian life. As believers, the Word of God gives us a script for experiencing life as God intended. Yet our environment, our culture, and our religious traditions often distort our scripts. We are all in constant need of revising the scripts that we live by.

Author Frank Viola believes we need to revisit and revise what it means to live the Christian life. Drawing from his rich background in ministry, Viola shares how believers can benefit from rescripting their lives in ten key areas. Written in a conversational tone and filled with practical insights, Revise Us Again is ideal for any reader who longs to follow God's original script for living.

Product Details:

List Price: $16.99
Hardcover: 176 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; New edition (April 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 9781434768650
ISBN-13: 978-1434768650
ASIN: 1434768651

MY REVIEW:
I'm really enjoying this book. I think it is a great reminder that we as believers need to strip away the church-isms we're taught, and often accept by rote, and really take a look at the character of who Jesus was, and who He wants us to be. Sometimes we follow a church blindly, and I don't think we look at how that applies in the Bible- we accept the word of the person on the pulpit without exploring our faith for ourselves. God gifted us with the ability to read (the Bible, yay!) and the ability to think and analyze. This book really reminds me that we need to dig deeper and keep seeking.

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

GOD’S THREE-FOLD SPEAKING

REVISING THE LORD’S VOICE

There’s a very obscure passage in the Old Testament that sheds light on how God communicates His mind to His people. It’s found in Jeremiah 18:18:

   The teaching of the law by the priest will not be lost, nor will counsel from the wise, nor the word from the prophets.

   The ancient Hebrews divided the Old Testament up into three sections. The first section is called the Torah, or the Law. It includes the first five books of the Bible. The steward of the Torah is the priest.

   The second section of the Old Testament is the Prophets. It includes the major and minor Prophets and the historical books. The steward of the Prophets is, of course, the prophet.

   The third division of the Old Testament is called the Wisdom literature or “the Writings.” It includes Psalms, Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, Job, and the Song of Solomon. The steward of the Wisdom literature is the sage, or wise man.

   These three sections of the Old Testament represent the three major ways in which God communicates His mind to His people.

Where We’ve Been

One of the greatest obstacles to laying hold of God’s mind is our religious background. Virtually every Christian has at some point been given a narrow lens through which they interpret Scripture, the Lord, and the Lord’s speaking.

   Therefore, it’s critical that we understand that we all have been given such a lens. The following list shows how incredibly powerful our religious backgrounds are in shaping these lens.1 The list is obviously tongue-in-cheek, but I believe the truth is not far off.

   Suppose that you are traveling to work and you come to a stop sign. What do you do? Well, that depends on your religious background. For example …

   1. A fundamentalist, taking the text very literally, stops at the stop sign and waits for it to tell him to go.

   2. A Christian who follows the traditions of his denomination does not bother to read the sign, but she will stop if the car in front of her does.

   3. A seminary-educated evangelical preacher might look up stop in his English lexicon and discover that it can mean: (1) something which prevents motion, or (2) a location where a train or bus lets off passengers. The main point of his sermon the following Sunday on this text is: When you see a stop sign, realize that it is a place where traffic is naturally clogged; therefore, it’s a good place to let off passengers from your car.

   4. A legalist does one of two things. She takes another route to work that does not have a stop sign so she doesn’t run the risk of disobeying the law. Or she may stop at the stop sign and pray, “Thank you, oh Lord, for your commandment to stop.” She waits three seconds according to her watch and then proceeds. She also keeps a condemning eye out to see if others run the stop sign.

   5. A New Testament scholar notices that there is no stop sign on Mark Street, but there is one on Matthew Street and Luke Street. He then concludes that the ones on Luke and Matthew Streets were copied from a sign on the street that no one has ever seen called “Q” Street.

   6. A prophetic preacher of end-time theology notices that the square root of the sum of the numeric representations of the letters S-T-O-P (which are sigma tau omicron pi in the Greek alphabet), multiplied by 40 (the number of testing), divided by 4 (the number of the earth) equals 666. Therefore, she concludes that stop signs are the dreaded mark of the beast, a harbinger of divine judgment, and must be avoided at all costs.

   7. A Charismatic/Pentecostal will stop only if he feels led of the Spirit and the sign is a rhema word and not a logos word.

   8. A prosperity preacher will stop at the sign, make a positive confession about stopping, and offer “the prayer of Jabez,” concluding that God must make her rich.

   9. An Arminian believes that if he runs the stop sign he will lose his salvation. So with fear and trembling he works hard at stopping at every stop sign.

   10. A Calvinist believes that God has predestinated her reaction to the sign. If she runs the stop sign, she was never saved to begin with. If she stops, she was elected before creation.

   11. A Southern Baptist believes that God wants him to stop at the sign, but he will still be saved if he does not. For if you once stopped, you have always stopped.

   12. Upon seeing the stop sign, a libertine begins to sing “Hallelujah, I’m free,” pushes her foot down on the pedal, and runs the stop sign at full throttle. She then gets run over by a Mack truck.

   13. A liberation theologian believes that stop signs should stop only those who are of the elitist, wealthy class. But the poor are free to run them whenever they wish.

   Silly, yes, but this list makes a point. We all have a lens that we inherited from our religious background. And we are conditioned to interpret the Scripture, the Lord, and His speaking through that lens.

How God Communicates His Mind

The Torah contains the foundations on which the community of God’s people are built. The Torah includes God’s enduring moral principles—the standards that spring from His very nature. These standards do not change nor can they be compromised. In the Old Testament economy, the priest was the person who taught the Torah.

   The Prophets section often seems to contradict the Torah. The prophet is the person who enters the community of God’s people and causes an abrasive, disruptive upheaval of what the community believes or practices.

   The prophet challenges the people’s response to the Torah, which is often a legalistic or libertine response.

   In reality though, the prophet really doesn’t contradict the Torah. He contradicts the people’s response to it. We are fallen creatures and sometimes turn the standards of God into dead rituals. At other times we misapply or disregard them altogether. The prophet is needed at such times.

   The Wisdom literature contains something that we Christians often do not have a great abundance of—wisdom. Wisdom is knowledge gained through experience. It also includes a predictive element.

   Because of his long experience, a wise person can detect patterns. He’s able to foresee outcomes (Luke 11:49; Prov. 22:3).

   A wise person may make a statement like this: “What you just said sounds really good, but it’s not going to work, and here’s why …”

   The instrument of the Wisdom literature is the sage, the wise old man with the gray head. The sage is sought after for his wisdom because he has the experience of life. As a result, he can peer into the future.

   The priest is authorized by the authority of the Torah that contains what God has previously spoken. The prophet is authorized by the present burden of the Lord that the Holy Spirit lays upon him. The sage is authorized by his experience and the fruit of his wisdom, which can be evaluated by the future outcome of his counsel (Luke 7:35).

   Put another way, the Torah looks to the past and asks, “Is this scriptural? Is this right?” The prophet looks to the present and asks, “What is God saying to us right now? What is His present leading?”

   The sage looks to the future and asks, “How will our present actions affect the future? Is this decision wise or foolish?”

   To put it in the language of the Bible: The priest asks, “What do these stones mean?” (Josh. 4:6). The prophet asks, “Is there any word from the LORD?” (Jer. 37:17). And the sage asks, “Where can wisdom be found?” (Job 28:12).

The Inherent Dangers of Each

Each form of God’s speaking has its own dangers if not attended to by the other forms. If a church is conditioned to recognize the Lord’s will through only the form of Torah, it will become ritualistic at best or judgmental, self-righteous, and legalistic at worst. It will need the prophetic word as well as the word of wisdom to balance it.

   A church that recognizes the Lord’s will via only the lens of the prophet will be unstable and erratic at best. At worst, it will be deceived. This is because a prophet’s revelation can be bogus. Thus, a prophetic word should be tested by its faithfulness to what God has already said (i.e., Torah) and by its future outcome (i.e., wisdom).

   If a Christian or a church recognizes the Lord’s will through only the lens of wisdom, it will be given over to human reasoning and empty philosophy. True wisdom will always be faithful to what God has already said (i.e., Torah), and it will be responsive to the in-breaking of an authentic prophetic word.

   Consequently, we should embrace all three forms because God provides guidance through each.

   Unfortunately, our religious backgrounds condition us to recognize the Lord’s will through only one form. Those who have a fundamentalist background tend to recognize the Lord speaking through only the Torah. Guidance must contain a standard or principle of God, which usually has a chapter and verse attached to it. But this narrow lens blinds them from recognizing God’s guidance through the other modes.

   Those who come from a Charismatic/Pentecostal background tend to recognize the Lord’s voice through only the prophetic word. It must be peppered with, “I sense the Lord saying” … “I have a word from God” … “The Lord showed me” … “Thus saith the Lord.” Appeals to Scripture or wisdom have very little registration.

   Those from mainline denominations tend to recognize God speaking through whatever sounds reasonable. Wisdom is their language. What God has said in the past often carries little weight. And prophetic revelation is suspect.

   Put differently, those who prefer Torah-speaking are thinkers. Those who prefer prophetic-speaking are feelers. And those who prefer wisdom-speaking are doers. Three temperaments, three denominations, and three forms of God’s speaking.

   It’s worth noting that our temperament is connected to our religious background. We are typically drawn to the denomination or movement that matches our temperament. Doers tend to gravitate toward denominations like Baptist. Feelers tend to gravitate toward the Charismatic/Pentecostal movement. And thinkers tend to gravitate toward fundamentalist denominations, Presbyterian, or Anglican churches. Parachurch organizations and many large movements usually combine two of these temperaments, typically thinkers and doers or feelers and doers. I admit these are generalizations; however, I believe they are very close to reality.

   Whether we realize it or not, our religious background is a major hurdle that stands in the way of laying hold of the mind of Christ individually and corporately.

   Accordingly, God in Christ by the Spirit discloses His will through all three modes.

The Mind of Christ

In 1 Corinthians 12:1–2 (NKJV), Paul writes:

Now concerning spiritual gifts, brethren, I do not want you to be ignorant. You know that you were Gentiles, carried away to these dumb idols, however you were led.

Notice that Paul mentions “dumb idols.” What exactly is a dumb idol? It’s not an idol with a low IQ. A dumb idol is an idol that doesn’t have the power of speech. It’s a mute idol.

   Before the Corinthian believers came to Christ, they were following pagan gods that didn’t possess the power of speech. These gods were mute. They were dumb. Paul goes on saying the following (this is my paraphrase of verses 3–6):

Remember how you served mute idols? Well, now you serve a God who speaks, and He speaks through you and your fellow members of the body of Christ. For example, when you say, “Jesus is Lord,” God’s own Spirit is speaking through you. There are varieties of spiritual gifts, but it’s the same Spirit. There are varieties of ministries, but it’s the same Lord. And there are varieties of effects, but it’s the same God who is working through them all. The one true God speaks through a variety of different ways via His one body.

   Notice that God communicates in a variety of ways, but it’s the same God who is doing all the speaking. And God does that speaking through His body, i.e., a local assembly.

   Consequently, the mind of God can be made known through only a corporate body of believers.

   Jesus Christ has the power of speech. He’s not a dumb idol. And when He speaks, He reveals the mind of God. But Christ never reveals His whole mind through an individual. It takes a body of believers to lay hold of His mind together.

   Hence, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 2:9–10:

However, as it is written: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him”—but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.

   Consider the following words:

Eye has not seen. He’s speaking of a single eye. A solo eye has not seen.

Ear has not heard. An individual ear has not heard.

And it has not entered into the heart of man. A single heart hasn’t received.

   Now listen to Paul in 1 Corinthians 2:16 (NKJV):

   For “who has known the mind of the LORD that he may instruct Him?”

   This is an absurd question. But notice the singular: “Who has known the mind of the Lord that he [singular] may instruct him?”

   The answer is obvious. No individual has God’s mind. But then Paul makes this remarkable statement: “But we [plural] have the mind of Christ.” We, corporately—as His body—possess the mind of Christ. Incredible.

   The mind of Christ is discoverable. Jesus Christ is not a dumb idol. He has the power of speech. He desires to speak and reveal His thoughts. But the mind of Christ is a corporate discovery. It’s a corporate pursuit. It’s not the property of any individual. It’s the property of the body of Christ working together to secure it.

   As a result, all three ways of God’s speaking in Christ (Torah, prophetic, and wisdom) should be held in tension. The reason? Jesus Christ incarnates all three modes.

Jesus Christ is the real Priest as well as the Torah itself.

Jesus Christ is the real Prophet as well as the prophetic word.

Jesus Christ is the real Sage as well as wisdom itself.

   Our Lord reveals His will to and through a local community of believers when they are seeking to lay hold of His mind together. The local assembly, which includes all the believers, is the vehicle through which God has chosen to disclose His mind. Through some believers, He speaks as Prophet. Through others, He speaks as Priest. Still through others, He speaks as Sage.

   The speaking may sound different, but it’s the same Christ working through each one.

   The Lord helps us to revise our ears so that we may learn to hear the voice of the Shepherd through each one of His sheep.

That's When I Talk to God by Dan and Ali Morrow and Illustrated by Cory Godbey

2011-04-20T10:10:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card authors are:

Dan and Ali Morrow

and Illustrated by

Cory Godbey

and the book:

That's When I Talk to God

David C. Cook (April 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

Dan and Ali Morrow are parents of two wonderful daughters. When they’re not writing children’s books, they like to go on adventures around their Colorado home. They are the authors of That’s Where God Is (2010), their first children’s release.

Visit the authors' website.

ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR:

Cory Godbey illustrates, animates, and writes for Portland Studios, a creative firm dedicated to telling great stories and pursuing excellence in art.

He has contributed to projects such as Zune Arts, Flight graphic novel anthologies, and has worked with many major publishers.

Recently, Cory was accepted in the acclaimed Society of Illustrators Annual.

Cory seeks to tell stories with his work.

He also likes drawing monsters.

Visit the illustrator'swebsite.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Targeted to children four to eight, That’s When I Talk to God mirrors the day of the typical child, creating an opportunity for readers to put the practices in the story to use in their own lives. Through beautiful illustrations and an engaging, familiar character, readers can relate to That’s When I Talk to God. Children will learn to go to God with their fears, their joys, their questions, and their desires. They will also learn the hows, whens, and whys of praying to the Lord in a way they can easily apply to their own experiences. And adults will be reminded to communicate the benefit, simplicity, and beauty of prayer.

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Reading level: Ages 4-8
Hardcover: 36 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook (April 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434700186
ISBN-13: 978-1434700186

MY REVIEW:
I had the opportunity to read this to my 6yo and her 6yo friend. It was fun seeing how the two little girls got into the story and enjoyed being read to. This was definitely not a book they would have been able to read on their own, but I'm glad for it, because it gives time for mom (or dad) and kiddos to interact. The girls really enjoyed the book, and it was so much fun being able to read together.

Oh, and a cute story to go along with this... my kids and I had met Ali and her kids once, and when I reminded my daughter that she'd met the lady who wrote the book, her eyes got wide, and she said, "wow! That nice lady can really write! Her kids are so lucky!" And I think, for moms who read this book, their kids will be lucky too.

AND NOW...THE FIRST FEW PAGES (Click on the pictures to enlarge them!):